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scarlettriot · 3 years

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Mina Ashido Headcanons!

@jewel116 requested some headcanons of our Alien Queen and I am here to deliver!

Some of these also could be considered BakuSquad HCs, hope that's alright.

I also went ahead and included some Adult Mina and 18+ Mina Headcanons too. Both are below the cut and clearly stated. Warnings are posted at each header mark.

If anyone has any other requests, lemme know!

Basic Mina Headcanons

Warnings: It's as fluffy as her dang hair! (Swearing)

. Most definitely has ADHD! In class, she is constantly tapping her foot on bouncing her leg as a means of trying her best to keep focused.

. Has a collection of shirts that she has designated for sleep and loungewear because she's burned acid holes in them by accident. Sometimes she'll wear them to concerts and shows if the design is cool enough.

. Loves piggyback rides! Frequently will run and jump on the backs of the guys in the BakuSquad. Even Katsuki himself puts up with it after a while.

. While Katsuki is the 'mom' of the squad, Mina is the one everyone goes to when they need comfort. Denki will curl up in her lap after a long day, Eijiro frequently goes to her when his insecurities creep back in, Hanta shows up late at night and they talk in her room about nothing just because he doesn't want to be alone, and Katsuki, well, he shows up to her room, slams the door and complains for a solid half-hour after reading a particularly heartbreaking scene in a manga while she listens to every word and validates his feelings.

. Mina worries far more than people believe she does. Her bubbly, loud, personality usually masks it but she knows when people are lying to her about what's going on in their heads.

. Sitting properly in a chair physically bothers her. She'd much rather be hanging upside down off it.

. She lowkey likes that the boys get protective over her.

. Mina is the type of person who gets A LOT of random thoughts that pop up in her head and one of the few people who actually will engage with the sheer randomness of the ideas is Shoto. Not only does he engage, he comes up with his own! The two can talk for hours.

. Loves hosting 'spa parties' in the common area of the dorms, everyone is welcome to join.

. When road trips happen, she's making the playlists (technically, she and Kyoka switch off).

. Tries teaching Tenya, Izuku, and Shoto how to flirt. After a very embarrassing first hour, Shoto didn't learn a single thing, Izuku was only good at it when paired with Shoto and Tenya... Tenya had her SHOOK! Man has game and she made sure everyone knew!

. Has weekly meetings with Yuga where they drink tea and spill the tea.

. She is so damn ticklish. Hanta was teasing her one day, she warned him to stop, he received an elbow to the face for not listening.

. Tried to grow her hair out once but it didn't grow down... it grew OUT. Mina thought she rocked it, and she totally did but ended up having it cut back down so poor Tsyu could see in class.

. Wakes up early three days a week to practice her hand-to-hand combat with Eijiro. Mina wants to improve her technique and Eijiro needed to work on his mobility, it benefits them both.

. Just Dance is her favorite game, she dominates.

. Easily forms new interests.

. Won't admit it but she gets jealous super easily.

. Will be the first to attempt to throw hands for a friend! I HC she was picked on as a child for looking so different but it never really phased her too badly, she likes looking different but understands that not everyone thinks like she does. So, if someone were to say something about Mezo's facemask, she's stepping in to defend the guy without hesitation.

. Knows every TikTok dance EVER. If a new one comes out, she's mastered it by end of the day and her account is always up to date.

. (Popular idea but important to reinforce) Mina and Eijiro co-founded a club, Horn Buddies, specifically to make Eri feel more welcome. They take her on trips and group outings. The only horned person who's not allowed to join is Pony because she was rude as heck to Mezo.

. Mina gets extra competitive over board games.

. She can ice skate and roller skate like a champ.

. Mina is resilient, dedicated, and passionate. She has goals and the girl will achieve them.

Pro Hero - Adult Mina Headcanons

Warnings - Mentions of alcohol use and swearing

. Gets several tattoos and piercings.

. Starts a roller derby club with most of the girls from 1A.

. Loves going out to the hottest dance clubs just as much as she enjoys staying in and munching on take-out food with friends.

. The Horn Buddies club she formed with Eijiro has now expanded into regular society and both young heroes couldn't be more proud. Together they've formed a foundation that strives to help those with non-flashy, unconventional, or misunderstood quirks feel welcomed and loved.

. Does her best to shop small whenever she can. Mina wants to help her community in as many different ways as possible.

. Becomes a fashion icon for many small, just starting out, alternative clothing lines. They love her look and the standard she sets.

. Goes to fashion and runway shows with Momo on the regular. While Momo prefers buying right off the rack, Mina goes to thrift stores and buys items that are coming back into style.

. Does her best to stay in touch with her classmates. She really cherished the friendships she made and goes the extra mile to make sure everyone stays connected.

. Has told off Shoto's father. Sent the man an anonymous bag of flaming dog shit as well for making his son so damn stressed. Sorry, not sorry.

. As long as she isn't in the middle of a fight, Mina will always stop to take a photo with a fan or sign an autograph. In or out of costume, she doesn't care.

. In high school, Mina's room was always decked out for the holidays. She goes decoration crazy and it is always done well. But, now that she's an adult with that pro hero money and her own place, she's the best house on the block decorated for each and every holiday! Inside and out! Also throws holiday-themed parties.

. Got absolutely trashed with the BakuSquad one night and taught them all how to twerk. By the end of the lesson, she deemed Katsuki was the best of her students.

. Loves to drink. Is a lightweight. Katsuki and Eijiro have carried her home more times than they can count.

NSFW 18+ Mina HC Below - Minors DNI

Warnings: Drinking, rough sex, mentions of orgies, handcuffs, impact play, and praise kinks. Subtle sexual relations with BakuSquad, Jiro, Todoroki, and Ochaco.

. The Queen of stripteases and lap dances.

. If any of her friends are at a party or some event and they need a fake date, Mina is their go-to person. She's handsy. She's flirty. And has no problem with platonic make-outs.

. Always encourages kissing-themed games at parties. Seven Minutes in Heaven, Spin the Bottle, those sorts of games. Mina also loves to play cupid and has rigged a game or two to get people together.

. Has made out with every member of the BakuSquad at least once as well as Kyoka, Shoto, and Ochaco simply because she was curious.

. Has attempted to start an orgy with the BakuSquad before when intoxicated. Still mentions it in passing just in case they change their minds.

. Has gone further with Katsuki and Eijiro though. Maybe both at the same time once or twice or several times...

. Wonderfully filthy dirty talk. Can even make Katsuki blush.

. (A personal favorite of mine that was in a previous post) When they were first years, Eijiro asked innocently enough, to touch her horns. He was gentle but that didn't matter. Our poor girl was so damn flustered! Her face turned red bright, she felt hot, and she had to go take a very cold shower!

. Ei felt terrible about it. It took them both maturing for her to explain exactly why she reacted that way... and then asked him to do it again.

. Is likely to send NSFW texts and photos while people are indeed at work. She is a Pro Hero though so only certain people are allowed to have those photos. A scandal is the last thing she wants.

. Very good at communication and is not afraid to speak her mind about what she wants and needs out of a relationship and her sex life.

. Loud, very loud, very needy.

. Fuzzy handcuffs in every color she can think of and adores impact play.

. Let her know she's doing a good job, Mina responds well to praise.

. Big cuddler after sex. Wants to snuggle into you and more than likely take a nap.

#mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha #mina ashido #mina ashido headcanons #mina ashido fluff #bakusquad #bakusquad headcanons #mina ashido smut #katsuki bakugo smut #eijiro kirishima smut #kirishima #bakugo #denki kaminari #hanta sero #shoto todoroki #bakukirimina

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egcdeath · 3 years

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unwinding

summary: On Valentine’s Day, you receive a bit of a surprise.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2.2k

author’s note: valentine’s day came early this year. like... over a month early i’m actually pretty proud of this! i hope you all enjoy :)

p.s. this is part of @syntheticavenger‘s lyric challenge, my prompt was: So let me take away your pain, give me all of your emotions (Victoria Monet ‘Moment’)

warnings: so much fluff. before you read this, ask yourself (and your dentist) if you’re okay with getting a few cavities.

Being engaged to a fugitive from the law meant a few things.

For starters, your fiancé was almost never home, and when he was home, he wasn’t there for long. Whether it be a 3 AM knock on the door from Natasha, or soft and apologetic eyes bidding you farewell after a 4 day tryst, everything always seemed to end too soon.

The second being that you often had little to no warning when he was coming home, leaving you to go on a mad dash to put on something nice before your partner arrived at your front door. Between random messages from burner phones, and random deliveries of local goods to your door, you were often given short notice of when you’d be able to see Steve again.

Finally, despite his best efforts, Steve was frequently absent from holidays that you used to gleefully celebrate together.

As the soft clicks of the clock increased, and night drew nearer, you feared that your Valentine’s Day would end the same as the aforementioned days, yet, after hearing the chime of your doorbell reverberate through your home, you were filled with a semblance of hope.

You all but skipped down to your door to see what (or who) had arrived, and lit up with glee when you were handed a bouquet of yellow roses with a printed note attached to it.

You didn’t think I forgot about my best girl, did you? Happy Valentine’s Day, Dear. I’ll see you in an hour.

p.s. I just learned that yellow roses represent welcoming someone back, isn’t that nifty?

-S

You couldn’t help but to grin at the note, quickly thanking the delivery person, then bolting upstairs to prepare for Steve’s homecoming.

——

After debating with yourself about which candle scent Steve would enjoy smelling most, and filling up your oversized bathtub with a cocktail of soap, essential oils, and an overpriced bath bomb, you heard the door ring once again. This time, you had a good idea of who you’d be seeing. Upon opening the door, you were far from disappointed.

In the doorway stood your greek god of a fiancé, a lopsided grin on his face despite the scratches, bruises, and dried blood that seemed to litter his body. You immediately reached up to wrap him in a tight embrace and he gladly accepted it.

“Steve!” You cheered, burying your face into his chest, “I missed you so much.” Your words were muffled, and you felt tear stains begin to latch onto his suit. He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, before lightly pushing you further into the house.

“You have no idea of how much I missed you too,” said Steve in response. “I never wanna leave you again.”

At this, you somehow managed to squeeze him tighter, and he let out a soft grunt, screwing his face up. “Are you okay?” You asked before letting him go completely. “Take off the suit, let me take care of you.”

----

That’s how you ended up soaking in a bathtub with Steve, running your hands up and down his chest while he leaned his head back and rested his eyes. It became more and more apparent with every second that he was completely exhausted, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

Now usually, you liked to spoil your man when he came back home, but after seeing his pure exhaustion, you decided to go all out. If anyone deserved a few hours of pure relaxation, it was certainly Steve.

You stirred and sat up, sloshing around the purple water that had been dyed by the aforementioned bath bomb, and attempted to readjust yourself so that you could at least make eye contact with Steve, who had now opened his eyes from your sudden movement.

“What’s up?” He asked, breaking the prior comfortable silence, and running a large hand through your hair.

“How about we unwind. Like, really, really unwind. The whole nine yards. I completely meant it when I said I wanted to take care of you, and as much as I’m enjoying this, I don’t think that just a bath is gonna cut it,” you hummed while wrapping an arm around the back of his neck, attempting to bring your faces closer together.

“Hmm,” Steve attempted to look pensive, “Only if you insist.” At that, he gave you a toothy smile, then leaned in to close the gap between the two of you, and peck your lips.

Boy, was Steve in for it.

----

Sometime after the bath water eventually became unbearably cold, and your skin was so pruny that you swore it’d slip off, the two of you exited the bath.

The next task you set out to complete was a deep clean of your faces, which could only be accomplished with the help of a peel off face mask. You stood at your bathroom countertop and plugged in a facial steamer after filling the bottom opening.

“What’s that for?” Steve asked with a slight lisp, as he was currently flossing his pearly teeth.

“It’s a facial steaming thing. It’ll be good for your pores before the face mask, or some shit like that,” you stood back and allowed the small machine to make some strange noises as it started up.

Steve tossed the string into a trashcan before leaning over the counter and examining it, giving you the opportunity to press a button and turn the device on.

“What the hell was that?” He immediately recoiled at the sudden puff of steam, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I can’t believe thee Captain America, who fights aliens and takes down governments on the regular is afraid of a little steam machine.”

“Hey, everyone gets startled sometimes,” he turned his head to give you a little pout. “How ‘bout you do it first, and show me how it’s done,” Steve stepped aside at this.

You shrugged a bit and nodded, then took his place at the sink to demonstrate how exactly to steam your face. After observing you for a few minutes, Steve motioned for you to move, and as you did, he made sure to give you a little ass squeeze, gaining him a side eye from you as a response.

“Just put your head right…. there,” you gently pushed his head down, then once his head was in the proper position, you pressed the button that turned the machine on.

“This feels kinda weird. It’s like, tickling me,” he mumbled into the machine while you reached into your medicine cabinet to grab a peel off face mask. Steve began to move his face back, but you shook your head and tutted.

“I mean, that’s kind of the point. Your pores need this. So keep that head down, big boy,” you giggled, beginning to apply the charcoal goop to your face while examining yourself in the mirror.

“Do they, though?”

“Yes! Those poor cells have probably been through hell and back with all of that fighting and… avenging you do.”

“You’re lucky that I love you. But know that I expect something in return for this hard work.”

You lovingly scoffed at this, but were pleased that Steve had found a reason to finally stop complaining.

Once a decent amount of time passed, Steve lifted his face and used the back of his hand to attempt to wipe away some of the dampness.

“Here,” you said softly, grabbing a towel, and softly patting his face with it. “Now the fun part,” you began to apply the facemask to Steve’s face, and he seemed to have no complaints.

“Hey, this feels pretty nice!” He exclaimed.

“Unless you want me to get this all over your beard, I suggest you move your face a little less,” you commented while putting the last of the mask on his left cheek.

He opened his mouth to respond, but decided it wasn’t exactly worth the risk of getting a strange substance in his sensitive facial hair. You finished up putting on the mask, then rinsed your hands in the sink while Steve checked his face out. “Ooo, I can feel it exfoliating already. Are you tingling too?”

You smiled fondly at him, then shook your head and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go to the bedroom. Since you were such a good sport, I think you deserve a little treat.” You all but dragged him out of the ensuite, grabbing a fresh towel on your way out, and setting it down on the bed.

“Take your clothes off,” you demanded. “Then lay on the bed face down. Ass up. I’ll be back in a minute.” You winked suggestively at him, then went back into your bathroom to search for the lavender scented body oil hiding in a cabinet.

When you arrived back in the bedroom, you were not disappointed by the sight of Steve with his sculpted back and perky ass out. You allowed yourself a moment to check him out before you spoke. “Hey honey…” you drawled out in a faux sultry tone. “A little birdy told me that you’ve got some sore muscles from all that crime fighting you’re doing…” You ran your hand up and down Steve’s back, and you felt his back heave as he attempted to hold back his laughter.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” He asked, not even trying to hide his chortling.

“Shhh, don’t think. Just let me take away your pain, give me all of your emotions,” you poured a bit of the oil in your hands, warmed it up, then placed your hands on his back. Steve involuntarily let out a full body shudder, and you couldn’t help but to smile at yourself with satisfaction. “Seriously though, try to relax,” you began to knead his upper back.

Steve let out a shaky sigh, and relaxed into your soft mattress. Although the tone of the massage started as a joke, he was feeling more relaxed by the second. Then those seconds seemed to turn into minutes, then… hours? Maybe even days. The point is, Steve fell asleep. Then woke up to the familiar tone of a phone alarm, and a gentle shaking on his shoulder.

“Hey, you can sleep later. It’s time to take off our masks.” You reminded him. “Meet me in the bathroom, but get somewhat decent first.” You gave a little squeeze to his shoulder before walking off.

Once Steve met you in the bathroom, he made a beeline to the toilet and sat down on top of the lid. “Will you take it off for me? I’m too tired to do it myself.”

“Fine, but only ‘cause I love you,” you teased, referencing his words from earlier before you leaned down to his level. You picked at a piece of the mask on his forehead, and began to peel it back, watching Steve screw his face and squeeze his eyes shut.

“Ow, what the fuck, Y/N,” he whined, giving you a little pout.

“I’m sorry. Just think of how fresh your skin will be after this, though. You’ll look so dewy, people will think you just came out of the ice.” You moved to remove the piece on his nose, and gained a similar response.

“Ouch! Double ouch. That was way too soon. Why can’t you be nice to me while you’re peeling off my face?” Steve looked deep into your soul while you peeled around the rest of his face, and you couldn’t help but internally melt a little.

“I only tease because I care. And I’m pulling your skin off because I care even more,” you finished up pulling the last of the mask off, then pressed the back of your hand up to some red parts of his face. “All done. You look like a whole new man, Stevie.”

You stepped back so he could stand up and look at himself in the mirror, and he rotated his face back and forth so he could examine himself.

“You’re so right, Y/N. Stark and the government will never catch me when I look like this,” he teased.

“I’m just a miracle worker, I guess.”

“Well is this miracle worker ready to head to bed? All this self care has been fun and all, but…”

“Say less,” you grabbed Steve’s hand once again, and paraded him out to your bedroom, before flopping on the bed theatrically, and grinning when Steve followed suit.

You rolled on top of your starfished fiancé, and kissed him passionately, threading your fingers through his long, sandy hair and sighing contentedly. He turned his head slightly for breath, then began to speak again.

“What I was saying was,” he said breathlessly, “All of this self care has been fun and all, but now I think it’s time that I show you how I unwind.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #nomad!steve x reader #nomad!steve #steve rogers x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #steve rodgers x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #synth's lyric challenge #hey i wrote that lol

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ecto-american · 3 years

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The Other Side

Phic Phight Oneshot for Kiinotasha and KC: (AU) Born a halfa and raised in the Ghost Zone by his mother, Danny struggles with his human identity when a permanent man made portal appears in the Ghost Zone.

On AO3 and FFN

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Danny never questioned his life until that man made portal spawned. He never forgot when he first saw it six years ago while playing with Youngblood.

Naturally, they were playing aliens and spacemen, Danny's favorite. Earlier in the play session, they had found it, and it was deemed part of their spaceship. It was just a metal outline, an octagon. Thick enough that they could sit, and they pretended that the limited space was the entrance. Obviously on the left side was space, and the right side was their ship. Eventually their moms called them home, and during dinner when asked about his day, he told his mom about it.

She frowned, and she asked him for more details. Having played on it all day, he described it perfectly. His mom paled, and she forbid him from going there again, but she didn't expand on why.

He saw no reason to be afraid. It was just a metal shape. There were far more dangerous places in the Ghost Zone. So the next day, he told Youngblood about his mom's weird reaction. His mom had reacted the same, but didn't say why. His dad explained that it was dangerous, but not what about it was dangerous. Danny didn't have a dad, but he was sure that if he did, he probably would have said the same thing. But neither child could get it. What was dangerous about a shape?

So they just played with it again the next day, and they lied to their moms about what they did.

Two years later, another ghost had join to make them a trio. Her name was Box Lunch, and she was honestly a lot of fun. But she was still a girl, and they didn't tell her about their secret fun location until they were sure she didn't have cooties. When they showed her, she instantly knew what it was.

"That's a ghost portal!" she exclaimed. Youngblood and Danny thought she was stupid. Ghost portals didn't stay anywhere permanently. They opened and closed at random, when the human world and Ghost Zone would temporarily merge and allow for a rip to tear. But it always mended back together quickly.

"No it's not," Youngblood scowled. Box Lunch made a face at him.

"Yeah-huh!" she insisted. "My mommy and daddy get into the human world all the time! She said some people there have been trying to make a permanent portal to here!"

"Nu-uh!" Youngblood argued. "My dad said that humans wouldn't do that, they're more afraid of us than we are of them!"

"Yeah-huh!" Box Lunch said more forcefully. "My parents were human once, they said that people constantly wanna hunt us in the human world! And that they're coming here!"

"If they're afraid of us, then why come here?" Youngblood challenged.

"What else would it be?" Box Lunch asked, crossing her arms.

"It's a weirdo ghost's lair!"

And as they bickered back and forth, Danny had remained quiet. He didn't know how to feel about any of this. His friends often forgot that Danny wasn't just a ghost. He was also human.

Not that he was a ghost who was once human, that died. He was both, and he always had been. Born that way, according to his mom, because his dad was human. Danny didn't know too much about him, and he never really thought to ask.

He knew that his name was Jack, and how he looked like. His mom had hung a photo of him in his room so that he'd know; blue eyes, black hair, with a square jaw and in a distinctive orange jumpsuit. The orange suit always reminded him of the blue one his mom wore underneath a lab coat. She said he looked just like his dad when he was in his human form, and he could absolutely see it. Though as a ghost he had white hair that he seemingly inherited from nobody, with his mom's light blue skin and yellow-green eyes. As a ghost, he matched with a black jumpsuit, though as a human, he preferred regular clothes.

Most ghosts had learned of Danny's true nature early on as the news slowly spread when he was born. They loved him and accepted him as one of them. He could go out into the Zone as a human, but it always felt weird. So he was always a ghost.

That night, as he got tucked in for bed, he decided to bring the metallic object up again.

"Box Lunch said that the big metal shape is a permanent ghost portal," he blurted out. His mom stared at him with wide yellow eyes, and so he knew that Box Lunch was actually right. "Is it?"

She sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"I believe so," she confirmed. Danny sat up.

"Is that why you don't want me going near it?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. Danny cocked his head curiously.

"But if I'm also human, wouldn't they be okay with me?" he wondered. His mom paused for a long, long time. "I'm also one of them."

"I don't know, honey," she admitted. He could tell that she did know. She kissed his forehead. "I'll talk to you about it when you're a little bit older, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise. Now good night, sweetie."

It was four more years before it really became relevant again. He had essentially forgotten about the unoperational portal as homeschooling, other friends, and general undead life had continued on for him and his mom.

Youngblood didn't age, since he was once human and died, and so as Danny got older, they hung out less. While Box Lunch, a born ghost, grew, he became distant from her too for unrelated reasons. Danny wasn't alone, however. For a while, he hung out with other ghosts who had died young before he met his best friend. He was a bit older than him when he had died, sixteen to his fourteen, but Johnny 13 (and his shadow) and him had almost instantly become friends and hung out nearly every day. Often his girlfriend joined them too. His mom also allowed him to keep a newly dead dog that had followed him home, that alternated from a puppy to a large hulking beast of a monster dog. Danny named him Cujo.

Ghost Writer provided lessons in the arts on Tuesdays and Thursdays for him and a few other younger ghosts, which did include Johnny and Kitty. On the other days, his mom homeschooled him in her passion: the sciences. His favorite memories were of him and his mother in her lab, doing home experiments and building a wide variety of things.

She indulged in whatever nonsense he wanted to build, which included but wasn't limited to: rock cannon, small spaceships, figuring out how they could grow potatoes on the moon like the man in the martian book did, using ecto energy to cook poptarts.

Often her friend, Technus, but better known to Danny as Uncle Nico, came by to do more of the tech-based stuff. Danny believed that Uncle Nico could do anything with technology. He was one of the ghosts that often went through the natural portals, and whenever he came back, he had something for Danny. Typically game consoles and games, but sometimes fun little useless knick knacks that Danny treasured deeply. He fixed those game consoles many times, and also showed him how to download and install cheats and mods to make them more fun.

And after a morning full of science or the arts, Danny would eat lunch then rush off to play with his friends, Cujo always on his heels.

Looking back, he never did much as a human. He had to resort to his human side to rest, or would default to it if he fell asleep. It felt weird being in human form amongst ghosts, and so he was just always a ghost. He never thought much about it, and nobody ever asked him to be a human around them. It was just how things were.

On the day he'd never forget, it was just him and Johnny. His girlfriend had opted not to come. Danny couldn't remember the original topic, but it made him remember the portal. As soon as he told Johnny about it, the two idly scratching Cujo as the dog slept in between them in puppy form, the ghost's eyes lit up excitedly.

"Dude! We have to check it out!" Johnny insisted.

"I dunno," Danny hesitated. "My mom said that I should stay away."

"Come on, it'll be sick! I've always wanted to go back to the human world," Johnny begged. "And you've never even been there, despite being half-human!"

Danny paused. Well, when you put it like that...

"Okay!" he agreed. He floated up from his seat a bit so he could untangle his legs to stand. Cujo immediately got up from his spot laying near them, tail wagging excitedly. "Let's go! I think I still know where it is!"

It had changed since he last saw it. It now had huge yellow and black doors in place of the previous blank space, and it seemed somehow bigger than he remembered it years ago. But it was unmistakably the man made portal.

Even now, he didn't get what would be too scary about it that his mom would encourage him to stay far away. It was just a door.

"This is so fucking cool," Johnny whispered as he touched the door. "Imagine...no more trying to hunt down a portal. We can just come and go as we please...seeing our lost loved ones...seeing my mom again…It's been so long...I dunno if she'd even remember me..."

Danny didn't say anything, but he did begin to think and truly wonder for the first time what his dad was like. His mom never talked about him, and he never really asked. He and his mom were happy, and he also had Uncle Nico. Was his dad kind? Did he also like science? Why wasn't he here? Did his dad even know about him?

"Do you think we can open it?" Danny asked. Cujo licked his fingers, and Danny scratched his head. Johnny glanced over his shoulder at him.

"I dunno," he admitted. His hand turned into a fist and he knocked on the door. "It seems really solid. I don't think we can just break it or something."

"Hm. Lemme see," Danny mused. He came closer, and he put his hand on the door. It was cold, and Johnny was right; it was metallic, just like the outer edge he used to play on, and it would not break easily. His finger traced the middle line of the two doors. "Hm. Maybe we can pry the door open."

"The humans made this," Johnny spoke. Danny stared at him. No shit. "No, no, I mean. Maybe you should do something to it as a human." Danny thought on this, and he shrugged. Couldn't hurt.

His transformation rings came and went, leaving him in his human state. He was just in a t-shirt and jeans today, and he stayed floating near the portal.

His hand had barely touched the portal when it opened for him.

Danny gasped in shock, jerking his hand back as it opened. Johnny had also jumped, going backwards a bit, and Cujo's fur went up as he barked. It fully opened, and he couldn't see anything but the green ooze. This wasn't anything like Uncle Nico had mentioned natural portals being like. They normally acted like a window you could see through. But it was an unnatural portal made by man.

"Maybe this isn't such a-" Johnny began, but Danny had already stepped through.

There was a weird in between area that shined bright blue that he never heard Uncle Nico describe. But in this in between, he could see exactly what the ghost had mentioned. He knew he was still in the Zone, but he could look out the portal into the human world like a window.

A man in an orange jumpsuit, with black hair that was graying, was sitting in a room that reminded him very much of his mom's lab. He was staring at the portal in confusion, likely because it had randomly opened, and Danny instantly knew who it was. He had no idea if his dad could see him, but he found himself rushing backwards, and back into the Zone.

The second he returned, he became a ghost again, and he silently began to fly away as he tried to process. Johnny asked no questions, only following, Cujo following them both.

That night, at dinner, he finally asked.

"What was dad like?"

His mom stared at him for a moment.

"Well, he was very sweet," she said slowly. "Very bubbly personality. Always went out of his way to help his friends." She smiled softly as she talked about him. "Adored fudge."

"Did he like science?" Danny wondered. His mom gave a short laugh.

"Oh boy he adored it. Not the best at it, but he had a lot of enthusiasm," he replied. "We used to do experiments together all the time."

Danny stared down at his food as he thought. He looked up to her, and he could tell that she already knew what he was going to ask.

"How come I never met him?" he wondered. She sighed.

"...He doesn't like ghosts," she replied. "Aspiring ghost hunter when I met him, actually. I was alive then. Had the same ambitions." At his shocked look, she laughed again. "I know, ironic. We had dated for about two years officially. But then...I died. It was winter, and I was driving late at night during a snowstorm. My car slid off the road, and into a river. And I died from my injuries. I found that I could disguise myself as human, and I was in denial. So I just...continued on."

"...Why?" he asked. His mom shrugged in defeat.

"I guess I just didn't want to admit that it was over. I hadn't done everything I wanted to do yet. I was still in college, and I felt like my life had been forcibly finished before it had even truly started," she admitted. "Jack had proposed, but I had declined. I was too afraid to tell him. He began pursuing ghost hunting more seriously as a profession and building weapons and portals. I found out I was having you, and he was so excited to be a dad. I began getting scared. I didn't know how long I could continue the lie. I didn't know how it all would affect you. Then the police found my car and body, and I knew I couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer. So I left. I had no clue how to face him, or even how safe you might be if we talked. Especially after you were born, and I realized that you were half ghost."

The more she talked, she more somber she became. By the end, she was sniffling a little. Guilt began to wash over him.

"Have you ever talked to him again? Like after I was born?" he wondered. She shook her head no. "How come you've never taken me to the human world?"

"I had considered it. But it's too dangerous," she explained. "Humans aren't like ghosts. If they knew that you were also ghost...you wouldn't wanna find out what happens."

"...Do you regret any of it?" Do you regret me?

She smiled softly despite the conversation.

"You were the best thing to ever happen to me," she told him. "I may have been very anxious about being alone, and how you may turn out despite it all. But you were born healthy and perfect in every way. You're absolutely the light of my afterlife."

Danny smiled back, feeling some reassurance. His mom stood up, leaning over to peck his forehead before picking up her plate. He heard Cujo scramble out from under the table, ears up in excitement.

"I think I'll finish this later," she told him. "I'm not too hungry tonight." She glanced down at the dog. "This isn't for you."

Cujo whined, following her as she put her plate in the microwave. Danny nodded, sparing a small smile to Cujo and ushering for him to come over. He slipped him a piece of chicken as his mom left.

Later that night, Danny couldn't sleep. He was too busy sorting out his rushing thoughts. He was of course still him. Nothing really changed, but there was this new growing emptiness. Danny was still Danny, but there was a whole other side to him that knew nothing about. It began to eat at him more and more. Who was this human side besides just human Danny who lived in the Ghost Zone? He didn't know.

He now wished that his mom had taken him to the human world before so that he could know. She did say that there was a risk in the humans knowing he was also a ghost, which he didn't get. The ghosts accepted him as one of their own, so why wouldn't the humans? He didn't get humans at all. And he needed to know more about them. He was one of them.

By breakfast, his mind was made up.

After an unusually boring lesson with Ghost Writer together, Danny immediately went to Johnny once their small class of sorts were dismissed.

"I have to go back." Danny couldn't breath for a moment. "I have to see what it's like. Like you said, I'm also human, and I've never been there. All my unlife, I've been a ghost, here, in the Ghost Zone. My dad's in the human world. And I need to know what it's like to be human. What it means. So I can maybe meet him one day."

Johnny nodded.

"I think I get it," he said slowly. "I'll come with you. Keep you company. I think I could pass for human pretty well, even if I have to say that I have some kind of sickly disease that keeps me pale."

Danny grinned.

"Thanks," he replied. "Come on."

It took no time at all to find the portal. Danny stared up at it, his breath once more stolen as he tried to think of a reason why he shouldn't go through it.

Nothing came to mind.

"It's okay if you don't wanna," Johnny said. Danny shook his head no.

"I have to do this," he replied. "I need to do this."

Johnny patted his back, and that was all the subconscious encouragement Danny needed to turn human and press his hand to the door. Once more, it opened. The fact that he's even able to open it made him know that this was something he was meant to do. He once again stepped through with Johnny right behind him.

#phic phight #the other side #my phics #phics #danny fenton #danny phantom #maddie fenton #johnny 13

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tavern-aa · 4 years

Text

Haikyuu Captains as Boyfreinds

Includes: Daichi, Kuroo, Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima

Warnings: slight cursing, bokuto emo-mode, slight nsfw

A/N: Leviathan reporting!! This is the first headcannons/anything we’ve got up so if you want to make requests, go for it. <3<3<3

Male! Reader

Daichi Sawamura

When you first got together, he was extremely awkward. It wasn’t his first relationship, but it was his first time dating a guy.

He was very shy about pda.

You started going out in the middle of your second year in highschool

Now, nearing the end of your third year he is a lot more confident is your relationship.

He loves to show off whenever you’re at his games. Whether it be flexing or literally throwing himself across the court for a receive, this man is doing it for you and only you.

Third year comes around and you are so proud to be dating the captain. He won't say it often but he PREENS when you call him by his title.

If he wins a game, you better believe he’s waiting anxiously for you to appear before him so he can squeeze the life out of you with a bear hug. He’s so happy and he loves that you’re here with him to share in the happiness.

If he loses he doesn’t have to wait. You’re down by the court already, running over to him to console him after his loss. He’s the captain, his team can’t see him cry, but you know better and as soon as everyone is settled you sweep him away and hold him close, brushing away the small tears that might fall down his face.

On a regular school day, being in different classes makes it slightly difficult to see each other, but lunch time is always a blessing for the two of you. You’ll sit with him, Sugawara and Asahi and have the time of your life.

He likes to buy small presents for you whenever he can. If he sees something and it reminds him of you, he buys it.

Whenever you come over, he likes to cuddle with you, whether it be on the couch, on the floor, or on either of your beds. He just loves feeling you wrapped up in his arms. And you love it too, it makes you feel safe and secure.

In public, he keeps the pda to a minimum, but he loves to place his hand on the small of your back or have your hands intertwined together to signal that you are in fact, together.

If someone decides to stare at you two or make rude comments about being two men, he’ll immediately pull you away to somewhere else, but he’ll definitely make a mental note of how this person looked so he could hunt them down later on.

He doesn’t really mind your being friends with the other volleyball club third years, but as soon as the second years come into the mix, he has his hesitations. He just doesn’t want his little bird to be influenced by the ruffians Tanaka and Nishinoya.

At the end of the day, this man is the most loving and caring boyfriend you could ask for. He’s understanding and even if you end up fighting he’s going to be the one to apologize first. He loves you too much for him to allow you to stay mad at him.

This man loves you with all his heart and even if your being a man drives away all the people in his life due to their bigoted opinions, he will stay by your side and love you forever.

Tetsurou Kuroo

Okay so, this guy, mmph.

I love him so much.

As a boyfriend though, he’s kinda silly.

This man is a big volleyball nut as we all know, but sometimes he finds it hard to separate volleyball from his personal life.

The way you started dating was strange. You confessed to him, which is normal, but he didn’t really respond, he just kissed you out of nowhere, pulled back and made a face as if he were mulling over how it was. He then shrugged and said okay to your confession.

He’s not exactly romantic but he tries his best, he really does.

When you come to his games, he is already showing off, knowing you’re watching him.

He likes to tease you a lot, if you’re shorter than him he’ll rest his elbow on your head and lean on you, usually in the middle of conversation with other people. If you’re taller than him, he likes to call you silly names like “beanpole” or “giant”.

If the teasing ever gets to you, he isn’t very empathetic. He’ll just scoff and say he was playing and not really take your feelings into account. He knows he’s being mean and that his response is wrong, but he doesn’t care, he’s trying to think about next weeks game.

You’ve known each other since you were kids so that also plays a big role in your relationship. You and Kenma are best friends and whenever Kuroo upsets you, he’s the first person you’re going to.

Kuroo doesn’t like to admit that he’s the jealous type, but whenever he sees you crying to Kenma instead of him it pisses him off. Like, he’s the one you confessed to so why aren’t you crying to him? Boy doesn’t realize that you’re crying about him.

This is how it is goes for most of your high school dating years.

After highschool he calms down a lot and he starts to realize how he’s been treating you. One day, once you both have started college, he sits you down and just starts apologizing for how he's been treating you and all the things he’s said and done to you and not taken into account your feelings.

He’s much better now and he definitely likes to show you off to his friends. When you met Bokuto for the first time, Kuroo was immediately very protective of you. He knew Bokuto was a good guy but he was very touchy with his friends and new people and Kuroo just didn’t want him touching you.

Kuroo likes to give you small gifts and treat you to dinner whenever he can because he really does love you, he just has a hard time expressing it.

You two share a dorm during college, one of the lucky things with you both being guys.

The room is almost always messy because of Kuroo’s inability to keep things clean but you live with it...mostly. You make him clean and even if he whines you pay him with kisses for doing little things like picking up his clothes, or throwing the instant ramen cups away.

You only use one of the beds in the room because of his constant need for cuddles and affection.

He wasn’t a good boyfriend in highschool but in college he is truly trying to make up for it. He’s showing you how much you mean to him and treating you like a king, no, like a god. He worships you.

Koutarou Bokuto

He’s a big cuddle bug btw, his beefy arms make great pillows if you ever want to hug him.

He loves to hold you in his arms, no matter where or when or what the situation he is in.

You are in different classes, but that does not stop this man from spending as much time with you as possible.

He’s actually the one who confessed to you which shocked his entire team, especially when he introduced you to them and they didn’t see a small petite girl but a full fledged dude.

Akaashi and you get along well enough to the point where when you hang out with him it makes the captain slightly jealous.

“Y/N-chan, do you not love me anymore? Do you like Akaaaaashi better than me?”

Big cry baby if he doesn’t get his daily kisses and hugs from his cute little boyfriend. “It’s kissy time Y/N-chan~.”

He constantly needs help fixing his hair and he always asks for your help because now he has you to depend on.

He isn’t really one to buy small gifts for you by himself, but if you want something he will either immediately buy it for you or will later go back to the shop by himself and purchase whatever it is you wanted.

Big food nut, so if you know how to cook, he will love you forever (not that he doesn’t already).

When he introduced you to his parents, he was very nervous because not only were you a guy, but you were also the first person he had ever introduced to his family. His parents were a little skeptical at first but once they got to know you they treat you like their own son and constantly invite you over for dinner.

He’s bad with numbers so don’t expect him to remember important dates like anniversaries, but he remembers birthdays really well. In fact, he likes to go all out with a surprise party and gifts galore just to spoil his baby.

Whenever he goes into his emo-mode during games, the team will tell him that you’re in the stands watching him and cheering him on. He’ll immediately perk up and search for you knowing you’re always in the front row for him and lock eyes with you. Give him a little wave and a loud cheer and he’ll give his signature “HEY HEY HEY” and win the game just for you.

Tooru Oikawa

Tooru is another one of those guys who has a hard time separating their personal life from volleyball and that puts a huge strain on your relationship.

He is a big volleyball nut but fun fact, so are you!! being on the team together at first seemed like a great idea, but as soon as you realized that this man’s life seriously revolves around volleyball day and night, the actual romantic portion of your relationship started to lack.

Whenever you made plans to meet up or go on a date, he would spontaneously either forget or something would “come up”. Truth be told, this nerd seriously lost track of time with practice.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves you to the moon and back, but it’s hard to maintain a relationship with him because of his inability to change.

You have gone through many breaks with him but each time he comes back swearing that he’ll change and that he will try to be better and hang out with you more.

That doesn’t last very long. He always falls back onto his bad habits.

He especially does NOT like it when you worry about him over working himself and over working his knee. You see him during practice every day, sometimes struggling only a little, and other times struggling a lot. It’s difficult to watch him destroy himself for such an unforgiving sport.

When he IS able to make time for you, it’s usually later at night. He likes to take you to the park or by the river and lay on the grass to stargaze with you *cough* alien watch *cough*.

Even though he has his quirks, everyone does and he loves that you accept him for who he is with all his flaws. He might not be the best boyfriend all the time, and it might seem like he is neglecting you, but he really is trying his best to be good for you.

Volleyball matches are a trip with Tooru. He wants to make sure before every match that you know he loves you by giving you a bone crushing hug. He’ll shout during the drills that he loves you, even at the price of Iwaizumi giving him a hit to the head. It’s worth it every time.

He loves when he’s on the sidelines and he gets to watch you play, no matter what position you play.

He also loves to show you off to your team, like he loves PDA at practice. If the opportunity arises, he will be hugging you, kissing you, or touching you in some way shape or form.

Wakatoshi Ushijima

Ushiwaka is an enigma honestly. How anyone is able to date him is a mystery, one of the great wonders of the world.

Not that he’s a bad boyfriend, it’s just surprising he agreed to date anyone when he’s so focused on volleyball and school.

He’s a very stoic person so sometimes it’s hard to know what he’s thinking and even if you ask him, he sounds so monotone that you aren’t sure if he means what he’s saying.

His expressions are hard to read and that makes understanding him that much harder.

He’s not big on PDA in public or in private but if you really want to, when you two are hanging out in either of your rooms, he’ll let you sit in his lap and cuddle with him.

He likes it when you pet his hair while cuddling together. It calms his thoughts and soothes his muscles. You are a big stress reliever for him.

Your size difference is one of Ushi’s favorite things about you. Whenever you put your head on his chest, he makes this face of absolute bliss, though it’s not actually noticeable unless you’re someone extremely close to him.

Ushi likes to attempt to teach you how to play volleyball, if you are a slow learned he takes his time teaching you how to do things. He’s very patient with you and makes you feel good about yourself by constantly reassuring you. If you’re a fast learner or already know how to play he likes to make things a little competitive between the two of you by making bets and saying things like, “If you can manage to receive my serve, I’ll buy you bread for a week,” or “if I can block your spike, then you have to give me 100 kisses.”

He’s a lot softer than people really expect of him, especially for his baby boy. When it’s just the two of you, he will talk to you in a soft, gentle voice that truly sends shivers up your spine. It’s so soothing.

Satori can be kind of a cockblock sometimes when it comes to things getting even remotely intimate between the two of you. He randomly will come into the room at the worst times.

Ushi seems like a stoic machine but he is human just like everyone else and he loves you so damn much. You are his baby, his cinnamon apple, the love of his life, even if he not great at expressing himself. You light up his day by just existing, his baby boy.

#haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu captiains #haikyuu!! x male reader #ushijima #daichi #oikawa #kuroo #bokuto #ushijima x male reader #daichi x male reader #oikawa x male reader #kuroo x male reader #bokuto x male reader

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skylarmoon71 · 3 years

Text

Bumblebee x Reader (Transformers)- Chapter 4

“Did I oversleep again?”

You squint, raising your head from your pillow. You almost jumped at the sight of the Autobot sitting in your room.

“B-Bee!”

You covered your mouth when you realized how loudly you said that. Running to the door, you locked it before turning back to him.

“W-What are you doing, how did you even get in with no one seeing.”

Looking out the open window, you realized it was still pretty dark. You just sighed. He was sitting with his legs pulled to a side. Because of his size, and the lack of room, there wasn’t much space for him to spread out.

“I missed you sport.” you couldn't be mad after he said that. It was only a weekend and he was already lonely.

“I’m surprised Sam never notices when you sneak away. Then again he’s probably used to it by now.”

Bumblebee was just sitting attentively, looking at you with those curious blue eyes. Now that he was just staring at you, it made you a little self conscious. You hadn’t exactly prepared for his arrival. All you had on was a tank top and a pair of shorts. You tugged at the shirt, looking down at your feet nervously.

“(Y/N).” you looked up at the sound of his call. He held out his hand for you. Stepping forward a bit hesitant, you took his hand. He guided you to the spot right between his legs, and you followed, sitting down. With your back to his chest, you tried to keep your eyes forward. Your nerves were on end.

“Bee you...when did you get your voice fixed?” you needed to make some type of conversation to keep your mind occupied, that seemed like the best topic. He sounded so different when he said your name, with no help from the radio it appeared.

“Ratchet has been helping me, do you like it?” you nod, turning slightly to look up at him.

“Mhmm, it suits you.” He sounded like a regular teenager. Yet still slightly mature.

“I’ve been learning a lot of things while you’ve been away (Y/N).” you raised a brow.

“Really, like what ?”

“Like the way humans interpret things compared to us. On cybertron we form bonds through our spark. It connects us. “ He pointed to his chest.

“Physically, we don’t have a heart, so there are still a few parts that I’m trying to understand. Like pain, pleasure..” you swallowed. Was it just you or did he say that part pretty seductively.

“O-Oh, well that’s r-really cool Bee.”

Why were you getting so worked up, you were imagining things. There’s no way that Bumblebee was trying to come unto you. That was ridiculous.

“Can I ask you a question (Y/N)?”

“Yeah sure, hit me.”

“Can I touch you?” you almost choked.

“T-T-Touch me!”

His hand came down, metal fingers resting on your knee. You were so small compared to him. The thought of him touching your body didn’t scare you, more like it excited you. That’s what sort of scared you.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“N-No of course not, it’s just that I-I...well I..” you stammered, not sure how to phrase it.

“You’ve never been touched by anyone.” your cheeks burned. You weren’t sure how to deal with your embarrassment, so you just buried your face into his chest plates, nodding slowly. A deep chuckle echoed throughout the room, and hell it was definitely the sexist thing you’d ever heard.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m kind of relieved. Lately just being with you doesn't seem like enough. I can't stop thinking about you. Your eyes, hair, lips..” His tone sends you into a small stir. It's so entrancing.

“Bee..”

Where did this side of him come from?

“Yes.” you gripped at his arm. Closing your eyes.

“Y-You can.”

“I can, what?” He was obviously teasing.

“Touch me. I want you to touch me Bee..” His engine reeved slightly.

The hand that reached down and slid between your thighs had your head spinning. Your fingers were digging into the metal of his hand as you tried to remain calm. You whimpered slightly. With your already lacking clothing, you could feel everything. His fingers were cold, but the moment it touched your most sensitive area, your entire body set aflame. Bumblebee was watching, studying every little sound you made, quick breath you took. He was getting pretty heated himself. Your breathless expression was so arousing. He wanted more, needed more. His free hand groped your chest softly and you moaned out his name.

“This is incredible.” He whispers. You were shaking in pleasure with every stroke of his hand to your core. You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle your moans.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to keep it in (Y/N), I want to hear you. Does it feel good?”

It felt amazing. If only you could put that into words. You settle for a half nod.

“I love you like this (Y/N), you’re so submissive it’s adorable.”

Another helpless whimper left your lips as you bucked.

“Bee...Bee..Bee!”

You gasped, rolling unto the floor with a thud.

Looking up, your eyes were wide.

“N-No way…” you did not just do that.

“Oh shit.”

You had a wet dream, about Bumblebee.

“I’m screwed. “

That you were.

~~~~~

Waking up the next morning was a struggle. You twisted and turned in bed, and at the end, you only managed to get two hours of sleep. The blaring alarm clock on your dresser made you groan, rolling over.

“I really hate school.” This was the worst way to start Monday morning. Standing up begrudgingly, you started your morning routine, dreading what was about to await you.

~~~~

“What’s got you so cranky.” you turned to your friend, opening your eyes a bit wider and she just started laughing. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks, what happened?”

“Had a weird dream.” There was no way you were going to tell her you had a sexual dream about your alien robot friend who you were hopelessly crushing on.

“Stop watching those crime shows before you go to sleep. I keep telling you but you never listen."

If only she knew.

With a long sigh, you gripped your bag, pulling it over your shoulder. At least school was over. You barely made it through the first period. If not for the nap you took at lunch, you would have been out the rest of the day. Walking in step with your friend, your eyes drifted to the yellow vehicle parked outside your school.

“Hey (Y/N)!”

The window rolled down, and Sam grinned at you. Mikaela was in the passenger seat, wearing a smile of her own.

“Hey guys what’s up?”

The both of you went to different high schools, so it wasn’t unusual for him to stop by every now and then.

“Bee was getting a bit impatient, so I decided to just come pick you up.” Your heart skipped. Your friend nudge your hand with a smile, in which you returned with an eye roll.

“See you later (Y/N)~” She really did remind you of your mother sometimes. You waved her off, opening the door as you slid into the seat. The door closed and Sam pulled off. The conversation was light, you added in a word every now and then just to let them know you were invested, but your mind was elsewhere. You slumped a little in the seat. Just staying awake in class was a challenge. You were exhausted.

“Can I touch you (Y/N)..”

Your eyes flew open. You couldn’t even close your eyes anymore. You folded your hands on your lap, trying to steady your breath.

“Don’t make a scene, calm down, calm down.”

“You alright back there?” Sam watched you from the rear view mirror. Mikaela turned, and you were positive she noticed the flush in your cheeks. “I...I..” you couldn’t even speak properly.

“It's a girl problem isn’t it?” Mikaela interrupted. You were confused for a second, but the look she sent you, you knew she understood what was happening somehow.

“Y-Yeah, these cramps are torture.” Sam grimaced. “Enough said. Bee, step on it.” He didn’t even question it. You smiled at Mikaela appreciatively, mouthing your thanks.

The ride went by faster, and when you stepped out of the car, Mikaela followed. “I’m gonna help (Y/N) Sam.” He nodded. “Do what you gotta do.” You could tell he just didn’t want the details. It was funny how childish he was when it came to that stuff. She kissed him goodbye.

“B-Bye Bee.” you mumbled.

“Later.” you didn’t need to be a genius to know he was disappointed. He was obviously looking forward to spending the evening with you. All that was running through your mind, there was no chance that would happen. You could barely survive a car ride, you weren’t sure you could sit through a conversation with him without those images flashing in your head. Opening your front door, you headed straight for your room, Mikaela behind you trailing silently. Inside your room felt like your own little safe space, and the moment you dropped your bag, she was watching you with a smirk.

“Okay spill, tell me everything.”

“W-What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, you were blushing in the car, and I’m one hundred percent sure it wasn’t because of Sam. “

So she did realize. You were honestly praying she would assume you were crushing on Sam.

“Would you believe me if I said he’s kind of cute?”

She looked unimpressed. “Nice try, now spill. “

You fell backwards on the bed covering your face.

Mikaela’s face lit up. “Oh my goodness you have a thing for Bumblebee!”

“Shhh not so loudly!” you almost fell off the bed for the second time that day.

“You have to tell him, I can tell him if you want.”

“No! No one’s saying anything especially after that dream I had.”

Shit.

“Oh..my goodness.” Mikaela mouthed. You groaned.

“You had a dirty dream about him!!”

“AHHH!! Would you keep your voice down woman!!”

There was a whole lot of talking after that. The biggest reason behind your fear of anyone finding out was more because you thought they would judge you. Bumblebee was a robot, yet to you he just felt so human like that you barely paid mind to the rough exterior. He didn’t even have a beating heart, but he held the power to make yours go into overdrive with just a look. You were hopelessly in love with him.

How would you hide that?

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doctenwho · 4 years

Text

Exhilarating

Hello! Thank you so much, you’re far too kind! I’m glad you, and everyone else, seem to be liking what I make! Now, as for the prompt, I really wasn’t sure how to go about it, or how to write a make out session but I tried my best! I hope it was what you were looking for!

Warnings: Attempted make out session (kinda)?

Word Count: 3,103

Summary: Read the prompt! :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to the creator!)

You didn’t really understand how danger seemed to follow the Doctor around—or, well, you could understand, he was a hundreds of years old Time-Lord who regenerated instead of dying, but still, how much trouble could one Time-Lord get into?

It seemed that almost everywhere he went (except earth, who had fan clubs about him), someone, or something, or even sometimes the whole planet, had some kind of grudge against him. It was hard to wrap your mind around. He seemed like a perfectly nice guy; how could he piss off so many people almost effortlessly?

It didn’t really matter where he put the TARDIS, someone was always upset, or out for blood when it came to the Doctor. It would almost be funny how many people disliked him, if it weren’t his, and your, by extension, life on the line.

You’d gotten used to that though, you had on your first few adventures with the man. You’d gotten used to exploring and then running for your life, or exploring, getting caught and then escaping custody. Or even sometimes stepping out of the TARDIS after landing to a ring of armed aliens surrounding you.

It wasn’t always like this, of course, the Doctor was an amazing guy who was really just trying to do right by everyone—he just didn’t usually think ahead of what his actions to save one specific person would mean after the fact. To really think about what would be waiting for him after a stupid stunt, or calling attention to himself in order to save someone else.

He really was just trying to save people who needed it, or to change outcomes (that weren’t fixed in time). You knew he really tried to be the superhero no one knew they needed.

He’d been your superhero too at one point. And he still was, but there wasn’t the same savior aspect to it anymore, not after you’d been traveling with him for ages and had seen him being a regular guy reading books in his spaceship instead of being a super amazing alien who’d saved your life.

It seemed the man had no regard for his life, not when there was something more interesting, or something he decided was worth more than his own life. Maybe being over hundreds of years old did that to you. Took away your own need to survive and save yourself.

And there was really nothing you could do when he was like that. Not when it was usually you, he was putting before himself, you and your safety. No one could say the Doctor wasn’t a kind and loyal man. There had been more times than you could count where the Doctor would step in front of you to shield you, or direct attention onto himself so you could escape.

He was just the best person you’d ever met.

But...

That didn’t mean he wasn’t an idiot.

You weren’t sure where you were. Which planet, nor which part of the galaxy.

It was cold, compared to most places you’d been with the man. You were further away from sun, but you were almost certain you weren’t still in your galaxy.

The whole place was like a giant labyrinth, dead ends and twists and turns. The Doctor had grinned ear to ear as he led you into the giant maze by a firm grip on your hand. The walls were tall, taller than you could see. When looking up there was just a small little sliver of light at the top.

The walls were almost stone-like, words and symbols of a language the TARDIS didn’t translate carved into almost every stone. The Doctor had studied them, but made no indication of whether he understood them or not.

You were on your own now, having split from the Doctor at the first sign of danger. It wasn’t that you had wanted too (well, not entirely at least) but it was that the Doctor had demanded you turn on your heels and run, while he distracted whatever beast was after you.

He warned you that whatever was hidden behind these walls would be after him, and not you necessarily. He said something about his blood, as the two you snuck down the halls, backs pressed against the wall. His Time-Lord blood, he’d kept saying, and the regenerating ability. Whatever that creature was, it wanted him, and you were just collateral damage.

You’d barely gotten a glance at the beast. It was large, furry to cope with the chill on this planet. You’d been in the maze for a while, the Doctor promising that the two of you weren’t lost countless times. It had only been towards the end that the two of you started hearing noises, groans and growls, and then suddenly it was getting close, just as you were to it.

The creature’s eyes were black, soulless, and the only thing it seemed to be able to focus on was the Doctor. The Doctor, like he always did, seemed to notice this, as he slowly side-stepped away from you. “Run,” he’d muttered under his breath without really moving his lips, then again, a bit louder, “turn around slowly and run, (Y/N).”

You couldn’t do more than follow orders, not with your heart beating a mile a minute, and your limbs numb with fear. You turned slowly, not drawing the creature’s attention away from the Doctor, and then you were running. Sprinting away. You chanced a glance back to see the Doctor dodging around the creature and running in the opposite direction—the way the beast had come.

You tried your best to stay as straight as you could, dropping articles of clothing in whichever direction you went when the labyrinth offered a fork in the road.

You were so glad that the Doctor had insisted you wear warm cloths beyond your jacket. Your hat had been the first thing dropped, followed by your scarf, and your two mittens. There had only been a lucky four turns you’d made before hitting a dead-end, where you decided was safe enough to wait for the Doctor.

Last thing you needed was to get lost in a labyrinth without the Doctor. You’d surely die out here if the Doctor didn’t find you. You hoped he’d follow the trail you’d left.

There was nothing else you could do besides wait and hope the Doctor made it back to you before you froze to death. You knew it was a lost cause to try and make it to the TARDIS alone—not that you’d ever leave the Doctor for real. There was a difference between running a bit from danger, and leaving him alone on a planet and disappearing into the TARDIS.

You waited for a while, back against the cold stony wall. You were tucked into your coat, hood up and hands stuffed in your pockets to try and keep warm without the rest of your warm gear.

Then, suddenly you could hear running. Shoes slapping on the stone ground and claws grinding into the rocks too as the creature ran. The Doctor was coming, and the beast was chasing him. The Doctor was leading the creature down your dead end.

You were both surely dead now.

The Doctor turned the corner, but before you could be angry at him, he was pushing up against you and holding you against the wall with his body almost completely blocking yours in. His hand had slotted behind your head, so when you were pushed back, you head didn’t knock against the stone.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, which the Doctor trapped between the wall and your body as he pressed close. He didn’t seem bothered though, and it allowed him to press closer to you.

He let his chin fall to your shoulder and he was nuzzling your neck and pressing small kisses to it.

It felt nice, but there was a dangerous creature following behind him, so you really couldn’t enjoy it.

You’d pegged the Doctor for a bit of a crazy guy, had since that first day, but he was clearly completely nuts or something as the beast turned the corner behind him. Blocking the two of you in.

The Doctor slowly moved his head up so he was looking at you, kissing your chin, and the corner of your mouth before finally kissing your lips. He was getting really into it too, which was very unusual for the Doctor, and any other time you’d be thrilled and returning every gesture given the opportunity, but you couldn’t manage to return the kiss with your literally death standing a few feet behind you, sniffing the air.

“Doc-”

“Shh,” he hummed, trailing his kisses back down to your neck. “It’ll know we’re here if it hears you.” The man had whispered that against your skin, pressing open mouthed kisses across your neck slowly as he spoke. The vibrations made you shiver, the along with his warm breath on your cool skin.

You snapped your mouth shut, nearly wincing at the noise it had made, but the Doctor didn’t seem bothered. If he wasn’t bothered, you shouldn’t be either, right?

“Clever girl,” the Doctor continued on almost inaudibly as the beast took a step closer, sniffing getting louder as if searching for a scent it couldn’t seem to pick up. You couldn’t look at it, not when your eyes were squeezed tight as the Doctor nuzzled into the skin under your ear before pressing a kiss there as well, “a trail of clothing, very smart, my dear.”

You had half a mind to push the Doctor away and take your chances running past the beast, but you really didn’t want to. Not when the Doctor was being so affectionate. How dangerous could it really be if the Doctor was trying to tempt you into making out here with a creature with the intention to kill you stepping closer by the second.

And even if death was coming, was this the worst way to die? With the Doctor pressing soft kisses along your skin? It was almost pleasant, well, minus the upcoming death part.

The Doctor froze swiftly with his lips pressed to the side of your jaw as the beast stepped so it was right behind the Doctor. You froze as well, stiffening as the beast sniffed the two of you deeply, eyes wide and unseeing. It gave a second deep sniff, and then a third before it was lifting its head.

Then, almost as if it were a miracle, the beast turned abruptly, leaving the two of you alone and stalking out of the dead end you’d put yourself in. You gaped widely as you watched the retreating creature walk away, its tail disappearing around the corner behind it, and then it was gone from sight.

The Doctor pulled away for a second to grin at you before pressing another, lingering kiss to the side of your mouth. “Brilliant, (Y/N), completely brilliant,” he praised as he finally stepped away.

In his hand the had been wrapped around your waist was all the clothing you’d dropped as a way to lead the Doctor to you. He handed them back, wrapping the scarf around your neck as you slipped your icy fingers back into the gloves.

“That thing was going to kill us,” you said in reply, eyes wide. “We almost died and you wanted to make out.”

“It was,” the Doctor grinned, “exhilarating, wasn’t it?”

“Are you insane?” you couldn’t help but huff out in annoyance, “we almost died.”

“There was such a small chance it was going to kill us. There was at least a ninety-five percent chance we were going to make it out alive.” The man pulled your hood up over the hat you’d slipped onto your head, then grinned down at you.

“What about the other five?” you frowned, not really liking the odds, even thought they were in your favor. That didn’t seem reasonable enough for the Doctor to jump you like he had. Cocky bastard.

“Well, the other five would’ve been it sniffing through my disguise. It had been following me from sound alone, since I’d left it’s den at the center of the labyrinth.” He paused, patting whatever was in his pocket before grinning at you, “I got what I came for anyways. I knew the dangers, and I came prepared, you really weren’t in any danger here.”

“What about the other five percent?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes at him, and crossing your arms across your chest.

“Well, I was ninety-five percent sure you weren’t in any danger.” You opened you mouth to growl a reply, “and,” he cut you off before you could even start, “and, the other five percent I would’ve thought of something to get us out safely had it come down to that five percent. I wouldn’t’ve put you in harm's way if I didn’t think I could get you out.”

“Why are we here anyways?” You frowned again, leaning against the Doctor’s side. The sheer fear you’d felt really drained the energy out of you, “and what was that thing?”

“This used to be training ground of sorts, back when Gallifrey still...” He left it hanging, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He cleared his throat before glancing down at you and continuing, “I came here when I was very young, it was a long journey from Gallifrey. The beasts in the labyrinth were the obstacles, Time-Lords, a fine delicacy for them. They can smell a Time-Lord's blood from miles away. I really wasn’t sure they’d survive without the Time-Lords interfering, but clearly I’d been wrong.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you said nothing at all.

“I suppose I probably should’ve guessed that they would’ve survived given that they had before Time-Lords intervened.” The man gave a laugh as he started leading you through the turns of the maze with practiced ease, “there was a highly sought-after prize in the creature’s lair. The center of the labyrinth. Few came close, others lost their lives trying. The creatures are savages, brutal and when given the opportunity will go for the kill.”

“But...” you couldn’t help but mumble. The beast had been so close to the two of you. Had sniffed the Doctor and walked away with nothing. It didn’t go for any kill.

“I told you,” the Doctor grinned, “I was disguised.”

The Doctor lifted his hand up, showing a ring on his finger. It was small, but the patterns decorating the outside of the ring were familiar. “It’s a Chameleon Arch,” the man explained, “Time-Lord technology that was used to place the prize in the creature’s lair when one had been collected. I’m sure you’ve seen the fob-watch Chameleon Arch?”

“Yeah,” you gave a nod. You remember the Doctor showing you one, explaining it, and how he’d had to use it with one of his earlier companions to hide himself from something. “But you didn’t forget.”

“No,” the man agreed, “I’ve been modifying this ring for hundreds of years. Time-Lord technology is a pain to mess around with, even if you know what you’re doing. I had to decrease the components, but also make sure it worked in disguising my genetic code perfectly. To that creature, I was nothing but a human, and humans aren’t as easily tracked, unless you’re bleeding. It can’t smell you the same way it can smell me.”

“So, it couldn’t smell you?”

“Right,” the Doctor grinned, “the creature is basically blind. It relies on its sense of smell, and it’s hearing. Humans smell like nothing. And its hearing is hardly as good as its nose. So, it didn’t hear, smell or see us in the dead end, therefore, we couldn’t be there.”

That actually explained a bunch. Maybe the Doctor had a right to be a cocky bastard. “You knew the ring would work? If the creatures were still alive, you knew the ring would hide your Time-Lord DNA?”

“Eh,” the Doctor hesitated, flashing a grin, “I had few doubts.”

“Few doubts,” you mocked with a glare. “And what was so important you’d risk a run in with whatever that creature was for it?”

The Doctor flashed a bright grin before reaching down and digging through his pockets. When he withdrew his hand there was a box that you had no idea how the Doctor fit in his pocket. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small by any means either.

It looked a bit like a coffin if you were honest. But the Doctor looked incredibly proud of it.

“This is a Hand of Omega,” The Doctor informed with a pleased grin, “it’s a bit smaller than the originals, and not nearly as powerful, but this small device is able to turn regular stars into supernovas, which can fuel the TARDIS in time travel should we ever need it.”

“Really?” you tilted your head to look at the device in the man’s hand. It didn’t look nearly as cool as it sounded.

“Really,” he nodded. “I’ve only really read about them, they were scarce. This trial, the labyrinth trial, was the toughest and few Gallifreyans returned, let alone came back victorious. I never managed to finish back then, but I have now. This is quite possibly one of the last Hand of Omega left in existence.”

The Doctor almost sounded giddy, excited and giddy. “This is quite the accomplishment, (Y/N).”

“Well,” you bit your bottom lip before glancing at the Doctor and watching him slip the device back into his pocket for safe keeping until the two of you were back at the TARDIS, “I’m proud of you then.”

The man grinned once more, pausing in his steps to pull you into another kiss, this one, no doubt a victory kiss. “I’m sorry to kiss you when you were frightened,” the man whispered against your lips. You were happy to return the kiss now, “I was just so excited, I couldn’t resist.”

“It’s alright,” you smiled against his lips, “I liked it, I think.”

“Oh, you did,” the Doctor pulled away grinning, “your heart was fluttering like mad, I was afraid the beast was going to hear it.”

You blushed brightly, making the Doctor laugh before he was pushing into your space once more like he had back at the dead end. He pressed a series of kisses on your neck, just above your scarf before whispering a husky, “you can’t tell me that wasn’t utterly exhilarating, (Y/N).”

“Okay fine,” you relented with a breathy huff, “maybe it was a bit exhilarating...”

<><><><>

As always, you’re welcome to prompt again if it’s not what you’re looking for, but hopefully it is! Thank you for the prompt, it was fun to write, even if I had no idea what I was doing, or where it was going! Sorry it’s a bit short, but I couldn’t think of anything else to make it longer.

The labyrinth, if I didn’t describe it well enough, is based off the Zelda: Breath of the Wild labyrinths, and the Hand of Omega was just a cool Gallifrey invention I tweaked to fit the story! Hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!

#Tenth Doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you #doctor who #doctor who 2005 #reader insert #writing prompt #prompt #TARDIS

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insomniamamma · 3 years

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Liminal: Ezra and Cee

A/N: Contemporary AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's caretaker after an automobile accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Same AU as "Ferris wheels are for old people." No reader insert character, just Ezra and Cee on the road. Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog ‘s Writer’s Wednesday.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma/injury. Drug references in a song. Some language. I tried to research body powered transhumeral prosthetics to get some idea of how Ezra's prosthetic arm might work, but then I fell into an overthinking morass, any inaccuracies are mine.

"Willin'" is written by Lowell George. The version referenced in the story is recorded by Linda Ronstadt.

lim·i·nal /ˈlimənl/

adjective: liminal

1.relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process. 2.occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

--"Willin'"--

"’... been warped by the rain, driven by the snow,’" Cee sings along with the music rattling through the truck's speakers, "I'm drunk and dirty, don't you know. But I'm still willin'..."

The road stretches long and straight in front of them, harsh, rust-colored land dotted with scrub under the arc of an impossibly blue sky. Ezra asked Cee to compile the playlist. You are my co-pilot for this mission, he'd told her, and as such your duties include, but are not limited to, navigator, snack supervisor and DJ. DJ? Really? Make us a playlist, Little Bird, every adventure needs some good road music. And she had really delivered. "’...Out on the road late last night, I'd see my pretty Alice in every headlight, Alice, Dallas Alice...’" Ezra'd expected hours of auto-tuned pop or loud screamy music where he couldn't understand the words, and while there was some of that, Cee had taken her duties as DJ very seriously, creating a huge genre-bending list that all worked together.

He knew a lot of it. When he was still weird Uncle Ezra and not Legal Guardian Ezra, Cee made a habit of pawing through his vinyl collection when she and Damon would visit, picking a record to play and then peppering him with questions about it. Still, some of the tracks she picked surprised him, like this one, Linda Ronstadt's version of "Willin'" a road trip anthem if there ever was one, but something he didn't expect Cee to be familiar with. On their first go through the playlist, he'd asked her, where'd you hear this one, Birdie? You remember that movie, The Abyss? It's in that movie, the director's cut though, not the theatrical cut, the theatrical cut is bullshit--and he'd just listened to her go off about all the things wrong with the theatrical cut, the movie itself he barely remembered, something about divers finding aliens underwater, he'd listened and grinned, Cee could go so quiet sometimes. It was always a relief to hear her sound alive and interested, especially after-- "’And I've been from Tucson to Tucumcari," Cee sings and Ezra joins her, "Tehachapi to Tonopah...’" Cee's voice is sweet. Ezra's voice is not, but that's never stopped him. They've got the windows down. The AC started smelling funny a couple days ago, and, in this part of the world, a breeze to evaporate the sweat is just as good as AC. Cee's hair makes a flyaway halo as they sing-- "’Driven every kind of rig that's ever been made, Driven the backroads so I wouldn't get weighed. And if you give me...’" Ezra and Cee smile at each other, suck in deep breaths for the big chorus, "’...Weed, whites and wine, and you show me a sign...And I'll be willin' to be movin'"

--Petroglyph--

The rust colored forms on pale stone walls peer out at them. Some loom large in the foreground, others recede into the background as if the weathered rock is a portal a window into some other place that lives just below the skin of the world. The back of Ezra's neck prickles. Sometimes the world is thin. Sometimes he feels as if there is a larger world moving and shifting beneath the surface of this one. Sometimes he feels like things are happening out of order, reality stripping and skipping like a loose bicycle chain-- Cee's warm hand creeps into his, "They're a little scary, aren't they?" She says. "Indeed they are," says Ezra, "One has to wonder what they were thinking. What they were trying to say. Are these gods in these pictures? Or just regular men?" "Does it matter?" Asks Cee, and he jerks his head to look at her. She is utterly entranced by the red figures and sigils. "Of course it does," he says, "You don't think so?" "I mean, it matters, I guess, but what matters more is that people made these," she says, "People like us. People with hands. Not that Ancient Aliens bullshit." Ezra laughs. Cee squeezes his hand. "C'mon," she says, "let's see more."

--Rest Stop--

"Hey MOM!," a child's voice snaps Ezra out of his reverie. Cee is in the truck stop, using the restroom and restocking their snack supply. At these stops he fuels up and then gives her some cash and sets her loose inside. And then they stretch their legs and sit outside for a spell. Ezra sits at a picnic bench letting the sun hit his closed eyelids, "MOM! That guy's got a ROBOT ARM! Like WINTER SOLDIER!" Ezra opens his eyes to a little boy, maybe four with a bunch of curly hair and big eyes, pointing at him. "Daniel!" His mother hisses, and pinches at his arm, "That's rude. I'm so sorry. Danny, what did I tell you about staring--" "Ma'am? It's quite alright, Ma'am," says Ezra, and hunkers down so he's eye level with the little boy. "Hi there," he says, "Daniel, is it? I'm Ezra." He offers his right arm, the double hook at the end open, titanium alloy padded with silicone. Daniel solemnly grips the hooks and shakes. "You've got stickers!" Says Daniel, and for a second Ezra is confused, and then he grins, looking down at the bedecked black plastic of his prosthesis. He stands. "My girl decided that I must have a sticker for every state we stop in," says Ezra, he stands and smiles at Daniel's mom, "Like an old steamer trunk. I'm afraid I didn't catch your name--" Cee steps out of the air-conditioned cavern of the truck stop, slits her eyes against the brightness of midday sun glittering up from the concrete, plastic bags full of crap-snacks and energy drinks threaded over her arms. Ezra handed her a couple twenties and told her to go nuts. Re-supply runs have turned into their own sort of game. She always grabs the usual stuff, chips and Snickers bars and Paydays (Ezra has an absolute weakness for Paydays. They don't taste like they used to, he'd griped, but that didn't stop him from eating them), but somewhere along the line, Cee decided to turn this into a battle of the wills. Her unspoken mission is to find something so utterly weird at one of these stops that Ezra won't eat it. So far, she has been unsuccessful. The closest thing was an aloe juice and cucumber drink that smelled amazing, but felt like swallowing cold snot. That one was a draw. She has high hopes for the dill pickle-sriracha gummy worms nestled in the bottom of the bag. The packaging looked like Christmas in hell. More important than the snacks is the plain, flat paper bag she holds. Ezra's near the picnic benches chattering at some lady with a kid. Menace, she thinks, but smiles. Ezra was always the extrovert before, and it's good to him smiling so big and open in the sunshine, making friends with random people at a truck stop. She sees an echo of her and him before, when she and Dad would visit when she was small and he'd tell her some outrageous tale and she'd say Uncle Ezra, you're so weird, and he'd scoop her up and swing her around, planting a prickly kiss on her cheek and saying oh, little bird, you have no idea, and this always made Dad laugh.

"Oh, Ez-ra," Cee calls, and when he turns, he sees her devilish grin, holding a small brown paper bag up beside her face like it's contraband, "Look what I found." "So I get to witness the sacred stickering?" Asks Ezra's new friend. "Indeed you do," says Ezra, "This is Cee. Cee, meet Jody, and that little man playing in the dirt there is Daniel." "Nice to meet you," says Cee, "Stick your arm out, old man." "Don't you want to document this momentous occasion?" "Oh, right," Cee pulls out her phone, "Hey, uh, miss Jody? Can you take some video? I got it all set up." "Cee is documenting our adventures for posterity," says Ezra. He extends his prosthetic, already covered in overlapping ovoids, enough that they are starting to resemble dragon scales, "What do you think?" Cee and Daniel circle round. "How bout here?" asks Daniel, tapping just above the articulated elbow. "That's a good spot," says Cee and peels the sticker from it's backing with a flourish. She smiles up at her phone recording in a stranger's hand, "We have now infiltrated the state of Nevada," she grins, "Evil-doers beware." "Yeah!" Says the little boy, pudgy hands planted on his hips for the benefit of the camera, "Or Winter Soldier will KICK YOUR ASS!" "Daniel!"

--Stars--

Cee wakes in the dead of night, disoriented, a darkness so thick that for a moment she's not sure where she is, and then she hears Ezra's rhythmic snoring off to her side, reaches out and brushes fabric of the tent and lays back, puzzled, muscles pleasantly sore from a day spent scrabbling up and down eroded granite boulders that looked like they belonged on Mars or Tatooine, walking trails and marveling at the strange ecology of the high-desert, so unlike back home. Bad dream? She wonders, probably. She feels her eyes getting heavy, feels herself lulled by Ezra's sleep sounds, snores punctuated by mumbles. Sometimes full sentences, his side of whatever dream-conversation he's having. Probably has no idea he does it-- Cee sits bolt upright, hands clutched in fists against her chest, a high-pitched wail cuts the cold night, a sound like a woman screaming, and another wail threads through the first, so loud it could be right outside the tent, and then a sound like gruesome laughter. The back of her neck prickles and her heart pounds in her throat. She tells herself that it's just some wild animal making noise, some desert bird maybe, but wasn't the California desert the last known home of the Manson family? Maybe not this desert, but still-- "Ezra," she hisses, and he mumbles something incoherent, "Ezra, wake up!" She reaches and pokes him hard, "Ezra!" "Whazzit birdie?" "Listen!" The screams rise and fall again like something from a horror movie. "s'just coyotes," says Ezra, "probly next county over. They don't hurt people, they're just loud." "You sure?" "Go back to sleep, Cee."

"Ezra," He's dreaming, some place with Joshua trees the size of skyscrapers, spiked limbs under a red sky. Cee's with him somewhere in the bloodlight but he can't see her, just hears her calling-- "Ezra!" He blinks awake, the red sky receding. Cee is shaking him. "Yuh. M'awake birdie," "I gotta pee," she says. "You know where the outhouses are, just right down the trail," "I'm not going by myself! Not with those things out there!" Ezra pushes himself up and shakes his head, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He can just make out Cee's form against the faint light of the sky leaking through the tent. "Alright, just gimme a second," he says. "I'll get the light," "We don't need it," he says. "Ez-" "We got night eyes now," he says, "No light pollution out here. You'll see."

Ezra stands transfixed in the chill dark, head cocked upward. The more he looks, the more he can see. More stars than he's ever seen in his life spread across the vast inverted bowl of the sky, no summer haze out here, no light-wash from streetlights. He is dizzy with it, the vast sweep of the sky, and as he stares and his eyes adjust further, he can see the arm of the Milky Way angled across the black, can actually see the dark band of dust threaded through the silver-blue light. He doesn't hear the outhouse door shutting, doesn't notice Cee beside him until she folds his hand into hers. "Look up, Little Bird," he breathes and it feels like a prayer, his heart suddenly full, squeezing in his chest, Cee small and warm next to him. "Oh, wow," she says, barely a whisper, "That's the Milky Way isn't it?" Tears blur the stars and fall hot against his cheeks. "It is." He looks at her, her face upturned, cheeks and hair frosted in star shine, limning her eyes, her smile. They've lost so much, him and Cee, but they've gained each other, and that's not nothing is it? "We're so small," says Cee, "Us. People. This whole planet. All of us. We're just a little dot." Ezra smiles in the dark, even as tears dry in his lashes. He squeezes her fingers in his. "C'mon, let's get back in the tent before we freeze."

--Hoodoo--

Cee sleeps in the passenger's seat. She'd helped break camp and pack everything up even though it was early for her. They had spent an extra night in Joshua Tree and now had to make up the difference. It's time to go home. There are things he wants to do before Cee goes back to school, things they need to take care of. So he woke them early, promising Cee that she could sleep in the car as long as she needed. She'd helped him get ready, half-peeling a couple candy bars and putting them were he could easily reach. "You want the playlist?" She asked, "I can get it going." "Not right now. I want some quiet." “'Kay," and Cee was asleep before they were to the next mile marker.

Hoodoos rise on either side of the highway, striated red cliffs against the slowly lightening sky, cut into improbable formations by long gone rivers, thin spires topped with boulders, first glints of sun hitting the higher cliffs while everything else still exists in that liminal space between day and night. Ezra glances over at Cee, hair in a messy halo, face slack in sleep, cheeks sun-reddened and newly freckled, closed eyes moving, dreaming. Ezra thinks of those first days, wracked with pain and trying to navigate the new, dark-shrowded territory of her and him, each of them crippled by loss, each willing to lash out at the other. Ezra thinks of how far they've come since then, uncurling like relaxing fists and learning to be with each other. They drive into the dawn and the first bit of light touches her hair, turning it to fire. She shifts in her sleep, turning away from that first hint of sun. He doesn't know if she's awake or not. "I love you, Cee." "Love you to, Ez," she murmurs and settles back into sleep. Ezra looks out over hoodoo country spread red tinged and stark against the rising light, the miles of road ahead. We're gonna be ok, he thinks and means it.

#writer wednesday #ezra prospect #cee prospect #contemporary AU #ezra and cee

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early2000smovieimagines · 3 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Merrill Hess

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You and Merrill met when you took up a room with him and his family.

- You quickly became a part of the family, growing close to each one of them as you helped out around the farm and shared meals together. Along with the platonic love you shared with the children and Graham, there were also more ...romantic feelings bubbling between you and Merrill.

- In the beginning, there’s probably more sexual tension than anything. You and Merrill are the same age, single, around each other constantly and both of you are; admittedly, easy on the eyes. It’s only a matter of time before something happens.

- The two of you remain; flirtatious, “friends” for a long while before the tension between you becomes too much to bear. It’s after Graham takes the kids into town that things finally come to a head and you wind up sharing a heated kiss; and a whole lot more, between the stalks of corn.

- You hear Graham’s car pull up and quickly throw your clothes on, fussing with your hair before meeting the family in front of the house.

- A million thoughts race through your head during the rest of the day but they’re quelled when you’re left washing dishes with Merrill and he momentarily grabs your soapy hand, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

- You go into town the next day and share a meal at a local diner together, and, well, the rest is history.

- Merrill lives with his preacher brother and two kids in a god fearing town, he’d feel weird being even remotely sexual with you or too lovey dovey.

- He likes to keep his arm around you, usually when you’re sitting together on the couch or standing side by side.

- Tight hugs; especially after you manage to worry him in some way.

- Slow kisses.

- Hand kisses.

- Head kisses. He’ll usually pull you in under his arm and press one into your hair.

- Heated makeouts.

- Having the kids “ewww” at you when they catch you kissing. He’ll usually prolong his innocent pecks just to tease them.

- Going into the cornfields to get a little privacy every once in a while.

- Occasionally getting surprise bouquets of flowers after he comes back from town.

- He tends to call you honey more than anything. He thinks it suits you and it’s just what naturally falls out of his mouth when he thinks to address you.

- Hair petting; he’ll usually do it while trying to comfort you but occasionally he’ll just do it without having any genuine reason behind it.

- Bridal carrying, piggyback rides, etc. Getting picked up is a common occurrence in your life after the two of you start dating.

- Merrill's a pretty big fan of cuddling; he’s a fairly touchy person in general but he usually saves it for when you’re behind closed doors which means cuddling with you is perfect for him. He’ll usually either be the big spoon or basically just have you lay on top of him while he wraps his arms around you.

- Falling asleep on each other in front of the television; especially while the whole invaders from mars thing is going on.

- Merrill has a habit of isolating himself when he’s feeling low so you’ll occasionally have to pull him into a hug and just let him know that you’re there and want to help.

- It feels strange trying to describe this but you know that position where the girl is standing between the guys legs and he’s got his arms wrapped around her thighs and she’s cradling his face to her chest. No? Well that's the two of you whether you understood any of that or not.

- Going to your towns events. I have a feeling they probably have some kind of swing dancing nights and things like that.

- Country fairs.

- Spending days at the lake and going fishing, usually with the rest of the family.

- Play wrestling on the couch when the kids and Graham arent home.

- Patching him up when he clumsily cuts himself or bangs into something while doing his chores.

- Hose/water fights when you’re working outside together or washing the dogs.

- Spending days out in the sun.

- Going into town with him. You don’t do it too often but it’s certainly nice to get away from the farm for a while and get some quality time alone with your boyfriend.

- Running errands together. He likes being able to do menial things with you, it relaxes him; keeps him sane.

- Laying out on a blanket together and looking out at the nighttime sky. He tries to remember constellations to point out but he’ll usually just start to jokingly make ones up when he can’t spot or think of any.

- Checking up on him; or staying with him, when he makes himself “cozy” under the stairs.

- Being interrupted by the kids.

- Babysitting Bo and Morgan with him.

- Watching him play with and take care of the kids. You can’t help but find it adorable whenever little Bo immediately runs to her uncle to tell him what happened during her school day or when Morgan convinces him to help him build/teach him something.

- Every now and again, he’ll talk to Graham about you or the kids will ask if he wants to marry you which he always shyly agrees to.

- Making dinner together. Little Bo will usually come in and try to help; she usually just ends up watching her uncle like he’s the greatest thing in the world …or she’ll cling to your skirt and watch what you’re doing with interest.

- Family dinners.

- Barbecues.

- Comforting and trying to keep him calm when things start to get strange.

- Letting him and Morgan rant to you about aliens, even if you don’t quite believe that that’s what’s going on; at least at first.

- Sarcasm. All you have to do is raise an eyebrow at him and he’ll pretty much immediately give you a shy apology.

- Merrill’s had a lot of practice when it comes to comforting people so he always seems to know what to do or say when something happens/upsets you.

- Sometimes he’ll look at you and just say “god you’re beautiful” in the most husky, earnest voice you’ve ever heard. You won’t be able to stop thinking about it for at least an hour afterwards.

- You're never allowed to feel insecure around him because he will legitimately borderline threaten you for feeling that way about yourself. He’ll tell you not to say “that” about yourself ever again without a twinge of humor in his voice before he makes sure to tell you just how amazing you are.

- It depends on the situation but Merrill can get pretty damn jealous over you. You’re his woman and people should understand that, and if they don’t, he has no problem making them.

- Somewhat overprotective; especially after everything that’s happened. He always makes sure that you stay behind when he’s going to check something out and insists that he do whatever; sort of, dangerous thing you were planning on doing. When something happens to you, he’s at your side in an instant, making sure you’re okay.

- The two of you have a fair amount of arguments but Merrill’s inability to not apologize when he’s done something rude makes it hard for small arguments to evolve into full blown fights. He’ll be sarcastic, snap a little and things can get a bit heated but he’ll always feel bad when he realizes how shitty he’s being.

- He always apologizes pretty quickly unless, of course, you were the one who started the trouble and did something wrong. He might be a little petty and ignore you for a bit but he comes around and forgives you easy enough.

- He tells you that he loves you a regular amount; he certainly isn’t hesitant when saying it. He knows he loves you so why shouldn’t he?

- Merrill’s pretty traditional so he’s going to want to marry you, and he likes kids so I’m sure he’ll want a family too. He really just has that white picket fence dream in mind.

#2000s movie headcanon #2000s movie headcanons #2000s movie imagine #early 2000s movie headcanon #early 2000s movie headcanons #early 2000s movie imagine #signs imagine #signs imagines #signs headcanons #signs headcanon #Merrill Hess imagine #Merrill Hess headcanons #Merrill Hess headcanon #Merrill Hess imagines

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dameronology · 4 years

Text

the one that got away {poe x reader}

summary: based on the song the one that got away by katy perry

this song has been my jam since i was about 11 and i’m now closer to being 20 than i am to being 11 and that’s making me panic! everywhere and not just exclusively at the disco but it made me produce this

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of smut

enjoy,

- jazz

Poe Dameron had always believed in true love.

He saw it not only within his parents’ relationship but everywhere he looked: in the couple who lived next door to his childhood home, in the bar where he worked during his time at the academy, in couples walking down the street. It was everywhere and nowhere; the kind of thing that you could feel in your soul but never physically grasp - or, at least that had been his initial understanding of it.

Then Poe met you.

That was how he realised that love was very much something he could physically feel. Not only could he feel it, he could see it and he could hear it and he could finally understand it. You were the answer to every question he’d ever had.

He could feel it whenever you held his hand and he could hear it whenever you laughed at one of his terrible jokes. Whenever he simply looked at you - whether it was under the blinding morning light or simply the outline of your and against his chest in the dark - it was there. What had started as a stupid fling in the academy had turned into something more. You were his whole world, his everything.

Poe was your soulmate; your best friend and your partner-in-crime (or as you had affectionally dubbed him, your poetner-in-crime). You were always on the same wavelength, emitting the same chaotic energy and terrible jokes. You had each other’s backs to no end, the kind of bond that spanned the galaxy and back ten times over. The love between was the kind that very few people were lucky enough to experience.

‘Poe, quick!’

You were tearing down the corridor, fingers intertwined. Almost tripping over each other, you skidded around a corner and into a dark classroom, slamming the door behind you. You fell back against the door, Poe’s arms on either side of you as he leant against you, body shaking with laughter.

‘His face!’ The pilot could barely control his laughter. ‘Maker, I’ve never seen the guy so angry.’

‘That’ll teach him to fuck with us again.’ You smiled.

‘Us.’ Poe repeated your words back to you.

‘Yeah?’ You grin grew wider. You pushed a few strewn, dark curls back off his face. ‘Me too.’

‘I love you.’ His hand ghosted your cheekbone, resting on your face for a moment.

‘I love you too.’ You leant up to kiss him, revelling in the feeling of his lips against yours. It was the feeling of home; warm and soft and welcoming all at once.

‘Forever?’

‘Forever.’

Nothing could come between you - until it did.

The war.

The beginning of another civil war were in the making. People who had lived through the first one had the same sense of unease they did the first time around; the appearance of more TIE fighters in the sky, more recruits coming to the academy, training increasing tenfold. There was discontent across the galaxy and nobody knew what was coming.

Poe left first. He was a few years ahead of you in terms of training, having been piloting since he was a kid. That, paired with his admirable recklessness and natural leadership, made him perfect for the Resistance. You were his whole damn world but he had to fight for the galaxy; a galaxy in which you could both have a future.

‘I guess this is it.’

You were stood in front of Poe’s X-Wing, hands shakily intertwined as you tried your hardest not to digest what was happening. If you did, he would probably try to say. Or worse, you would try to go with him before you were ready.

‘It’s only a few months.’ Poe’s voice was wobbly, and he gripped your hands tighter. ‘A year at most, and then you’ll come out and join me. Right?’

‘Right.’ You nodded, a tear splashing down your cheek. ‘And we’ll talk all the time. Beebs always knows where to find me.’

‘I love you.’ He pressed his forehead to yours, lips momentarily brushing together as he trembled. ‘I love you so much.’

‘I love you too.’ You murmured. ‘If this is it, I’m always going-’

‘- we literally just said.’ Poe almost reeled back. ‘We’re going to see each other again.’

‘But if we don’t-’

‘- say it.’ Poe’s voice was firm, his grip on your hands inhumanly tight. ‘Say that we’ll see each other again. Promise me.’

You sighed, trying to calm yourself for a moment. You wanted to be hopeful, to think of a future where two could find your way back to each other - but you had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the case. The galaxy was getting darker and darker by the day and the light at the end of the tunnel seemed impossibly far away.

‘I promise.’ The words were barely a whisper.

‘Take this.’ Poe reached up to the chain around his neck, pulling the ring off.

‘Poe, I can’t ask that of you-’

‘- you’re not asking. I’m telling.’ He shook his head. Taking your hand in his, he slipped his mother’s ring across your middle finger. ‘Forever, right?’

‘Forever.’

You would both come to learn that forever was a long time - almost as long as the months you spent apart.

At first, you would talk every day. You would talk to him via the holo-link in your droids, sharing stories about your day and talking about what you were going to do when you saw each other again. It felt like you were hopelessly clinging onto a distant dream, desperately wishing that the promises you were making could ever be fulfilled. You spoke about where you were going to live (Coruscant, probably) and what you were going to name your kids (Leo for a boy, Shara for a girl).

But then your calls became less and less regular. Poe was being taken all over the galaxy on his missions and you were busy trying to finish your training. What had been a daily thing turned into one of a weekly nature, and before you knew it, it was a two-or-three-times a month affair.

You were tired whenever you spoke, and Poe was grumpy. You’d been worn down with your training and his body had been torn through eleven different timezones in a week. The hope that you’d both once had was almost completely faded, replaced with concern for the war. All your energy was going into fighting - sometimes for the Resistance, sometimes with each other.

Then the calls stopped.

You couldn’t exactly recall when you realised it was over but some part of you just knew; there was no conversation, no closure. It was over, just like that. You didn’t even have time to think about it or to cry about it. The fact that you’d lost Poe Dameron was just a reality of life - a painful one, but a reality nonetheless.

You took the ring off, putting it in a safe space to give back to him should you ever cross paths again. You wouldn’t - not for a few years.

Almost a year to the day that Poe left, Leia Organa recruited you into the Resistance. It was a different base to your former love, systems away in the Outer Rim. Your work was focused mostly on communications and collecting data for building new bases. It felt good to finally be doing your part for the cause but you couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.

(It was Poe. Poe was the thing that was missing).

Time flew by. You were jumping between planets, having a few near misses and experiencing your first real sense of loss; not only for your flyboy, but for your team-mates who didn’t make it back. You were haunted with thoughts of the same thing happening to Poe, of the idea that he could have already left for his last mission without knowing it.

So, you started wearing the ring again. Even when you met somebody new - Perry, a six-foot-tall blonde gunner with a kind smile and a moderate sense of humour - you kept it on. You wore it when you kissed Perry for the first time and you wore it when he declared his love for you.

He wasn’t Poe. He didn’t hold your hand the way Poe did or kiss you in the way that Poe did. He didn’t make you laugh like him or smile like him or feel like him. He wasn’t the same. Nobody could ever compare but you weren’t going to find the love of your life twice. It was like you’d won the lottery on your first ticket. Nobody won the jackpot twice.

‘This is the bar that Leia said most of the other guys went to.’

You and Perry were stood outside a cantina; it was dark on Ajan Kloss, the sky lit in a low navy colour by the yellow of the moon. The signs of the establishment flashed before you, a welcome invitation away from the cold night. The air inside was stuffy in comparison, smelling of stale beer and filled with the sound of other Resistance pilots chortling and chatting.

You were on a two-day lay over at another base. The whole squad needed a drink, given how rough the mission had been - whilst they sat down, you ditched your jacket and headed to the bar up front.

Falling against the wooden counter, you let out a small oof! as somebody dropped against the bar next to you, He was too busy talking to someone, but you could have recognised him from anywhere.

Poe Dameron had a warm presence; there was an aura about him, something welcoming and sweet. He still wore the same after shave and laughed with his whole body - that’s how you knew it was him.

‘Poe.’ Your words weren’t really there, but he still managed to hear you.

‘Yeah?’ He spun around, doing a double take when he saw you. ‘Oh, shit.’

He looked tired; his hair was still dark and curly, but littered with more greys than it had been five years ago. His warm brown eyes were decorated with dark circles and he had a five-o-clock shadow on his chin. Still, he looked good.

‘I - wow.’ You couldn’t find the words. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’ A small smile fell onto Poe’s lips. ‘Hi.’

A moment later, he had dropped his drink and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. He hadn’t held you since the day he’d left all those years ago; a day that felt so alien to you both. Your immediate feeling was one of relief - Poe Dameron was alive, drinking in a bar and doing exactly what he said he’d always would (saving the galaxy).

‘You’re...’ You trailed off, pulling back to stare at him. ‘You’re alive.’

‘Just about.’ Poe smiled at you. ‘And so are you - and you’re a Lieutenant.’

‘You’re a commander.’ Your eyes fell to the markings on his jacket. ‘That’s amazing, Poe.’

You were both thinking the same thing: we should have done it together.

You should have been there to witness him rising through the ranks and he should have been there to welcome you to the Resistance with open arms. But life could be a bitch and she’d dealt you both the worst cards. The galaxy had done everything within its power to tear you apart.

‘It’s so good to see you.’ Poe bit his lip, brown eyes refusing to move from holding your gaze. ‘I know that we said-’

‘- don’t mention it.’ You shook your head. ‘We were pretty fucking naive, right?’

‘Right.’ He breathily laughed, nodding. ‘I still think about you, though.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ He smiled. ‘I think about the academy, and the day I left and - is that my mum’s ring?’

Poe’s eyes had fallen to your hand, where the metallic band still sat on your middle finger. You’d always promised yourself to give it back if you ever had the chance. After all, it was supposed to be a symbol of commitment, of your love for one another. It was a promise you’d made to each other before either of you knew what shit life was going to throw your way.

‘Oh, yeah.’ You went to pull it off.

‘No.’ Poe moved his hand to cover yours. ‘Keep it.’

‘Poe, it’s yours.’ You reminded him.

‘And I gave it to you.’ He replied. ‘I know...I know things didn’t go the way we wanted but I still mean everything I said.’

You smiled, nodding. ‘Thank you. Me too.’

‘Are you around later?’ Poe asked. ‘We should catch up. There’s a lot to talk about, right?’

‘Of course.’ You took a sip of your drink. ‘I’m staying in-’

‘- babe!’ Perry’s voice suddenly cut between the two of you. Your boyfriend appeared beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist. ‘What’s taking so long?’

Oh, yeah. Him.

Maybe you weren’t around tonight.

Five minutes with Poe Dameron had been enough to make you forget two years with your current boyfriend. He’d made you feel more in that brief conversation that Perry had in your whole relationship.

You didn’t mean to compare them, truly. It was just that there was no coming back from Poe Dameron; he was your soulmate then and you had a feeling he was your soulmate now. In fact, it wasn’t just a feeling; it was a certainty.

That was what you told yourself when you snuck out of bed that night to see Poe.

It was what you told yourself when he kissed you for the first time in five years.

It was what you told yourself when you made love for the first time in five years.

But repeating it over and over in your head wasn’t enough to make you stay the next morning. Even when you woke up in his arms, pressed against his bare chest with scratches on your back and bruises on your thighs, finally feeling like you were at home for the first time in five years, you couldn’t convince yourself to stay. You couldn’t fall back to him; you couldn’t let yourself get hurt all over again.

Perry didn’t ask where you went that night - and you never told him.

You didn’t confess when he found you the next day and he confessed his love for you. You didn’t confess when he asked you to marry him six months later.

There was now another ring sat next to Poe’s; shiny and expensive and far too big for your hands. It was where his ring should have been; instead, Shara Bey’s ring stayed on your middle finger, a constant reminder of what could have been - of what should have been.

You were glad for that night with Poe. It felt like a goodbye for you both; like you’d finally got closure. At the same time, you didn’t want your time with Poe to reach a conclusion - you still wanted to hold out hope that the promises you’d made as a twenty-something would come true. You were engaged to marry another man but for some reason, you couldn’t see a future with anyone else.

Then there came a point where you couldn’t see a future at all.

The First Order was closing in; the war was getting rougher and rougher. There were losses left right and centre. Missions were becoming longer and darker. The bags under your eyes were getting darker and each day, you strayed further and further from the light. It was hard to hold on, hard to see past the dark forces at play.

That’s when you’d think back to another time; six or seven years prior, when it was just you and Poe against the world. You’d let your mind wander back to the times that you would stay up late, laughing and crying together. You remembered all the pacts and promises you’d made. How did you get here?

Before you knew it, you were back on Ajon Kloss. Everyone had gathered to begin making preparations for the final battle. Nobody was calling it that - final was too scary of a word, after all - but everybody knew it. You were powering up your jet for what felt like the last time.

‘Trident Squad, you’ll be behind Dagger. You know your orders.’

You were hardly listening to your commander, hands shaking as you played with the straps of your helmet. You were leaning against your X-Wing, trying to calm your breaths with clammy hands and a pounding chest.

‘Hey.’

You looked up, eyes meeting Poe’s. Despite everything, you smiled. ‘Hey.’

‘You got engaged?’ His words were breathless. There was no greeting, no question of how you were. There was just the hurt in his words; the disbelief and the grief.

‘I got engaged.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Fuck?’

‘Fuck.’

‘Yeah, you’re right.’ You nodded. ‘Fuck.’

Dropping your helmet to the ground, you met Poe half-way across the gap between you. He took you in his arms, lifting you off the ground for a moment as your bodies collided. He held you in his arms, a sad imitation of the last time you’d been stood together in front of an X-Wing.

‘Do you...’ your words were muffled by his shoulder. ‘Are you sure you don’t want your ring back?’

‘That’s what I was trying to say last time I saw you.’ Poe put you back down; his hands stayed on your waist. ‘My mum told me to give it to whoever I wanted to spend my life with.’

‘Poe-’

‘- I know.’ He cut you off. ‘You promised to marry Pete-’

‘- Perry-’

‘- whatever.’ You couldn’t help but laugh at his flippancy. ‘Just because I can’t spend my life with you doesn’t mean I can’t want to.’

‘That makes no sense.’

‘None of this makes sense.’ Poe corrected you. ‘Normally I’m more than happy to respect the boundaries of another guys relationship but...but it’s you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I gotta ask.’ He have your hips a light squeeze. ‘If we make it out alive, there’s no chance at all that you and I can finally be together?’

‘Poe, I-’

‘- Captain!’ The sound of your commander’s voice came from around the corner. ‘We’re heading out now! Power up!’

‘I have to go.’ You took a step backwards, but he still clung onto your hands.

‘I love you.’ Poe gave you a watery smile.

‘I know.’

‘Forever?’

‘Forever.’

tags: @blacksquadron-rougetwo @drinksomecoco @obi-wankenobae

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron angst #poe x reader #poe imagine #poe x you #poe x y/n #poe angst #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars angst #star wars fanfic #star wars imagines

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readerficsbyhyaku · 4 years

Text

Our hidden ways (DJSS x Reader SMUT)

summary

What is now considered a normal part of Vinyl City wasn't always there, and you were part of the generation that saw object heads come to life.

With every new thing comes the possibility of fear and rejection, and you were caught right into it.

You never had the guts to come out as an OH lover, complacently hiding under a facade, until he made a move. But still then... will you tell him ?

author’s note

Hi there ! There is dubious consent, slight OOC-ness for DJ (in my opinion), and a whole lot of feelings. Hope you enjoy ! Also double the smut because i'm a SIMP.

Art by me

Vinyl City wasn’t always the cosmopolitan metropolis of music you knew. When you were younger, there was a time where all the strange and stranger people you paid no mind to now were a novelty. And with difference came fear.

You were in high school when new faces started attending classes, and one of them struck you more than others. Well, because he didn’t have a face per se. A giant by human standards, he had wide shoulders, immense hands and a globe floating above his neck.

And that’s when you started noticing what was wrong with the world.

You were part of a group of friends, and the guy – nicknamed DJ – had no trouble making himself a place in it. He was passionate, quite a good talker and student, maybe a little “too much” sometimes but it wasn’t a big deal. What became a big deal was when your friends talked about it – what a lot of hormone-frenzied teenagers talk about – sex.

Pictures, videos… you’d seen a few here and there, and thought nothing special of them until then. See, the arrival of “OH” citizens, standing for “object head”, had led this particular market to span a new arm, leg, whatever you wanted to call it. Object heads were becoming a kink, something out of the norm, akin to interracial but on some bizarre, alien-esque level.

And when your friends started to talk about it in this very way, you realized maybe your attraction wasn’t as straightforward for everybody as you thought it would be, and thus it made it very difficult to admit it to anyone. In an effort to stick with the group, you laughed at your friends’ jokes and manifested interest in what they’d call “regular sex”.

Despite DJ being quite integrated in your little clique, it was when these conversations started that you felt him drift away, maybe isolating himself to not get hurt. And that’s also when it hurt the most to lie to your friends, the words and laughs tasting so bitter in your mouth you’d want to retch. Your heart was screaming to go for him, to tell your friends that you didn’t find OH weird, or repulsing, but then reason toned everything down with fear. Fear of rejection, of losing your friends, of being laughed at, of being different. It was a lonely road to walk, and you didn’t have the courage to take that path just yet.

As weeks and weeks went by, your conflicting feelings only grew in intensity as you kept them hidden. At last, it was the end of your last year and the start of something new, called adult life. Not that you or any of your friends knew what it really meant, and those concerns were pushed back for another day as they suggested you went to a karaoke to celebrate your graduation.

So you and your friends stuffed yourselves in the tiny karaoke room, ordering more drinks and food that could fit onto the table, and proceeded to sing until your voice cracked. At least, most of your friends did. You, on the other hand, drank your beer while chatting with the people next to you. And lucky you were, because DJ was right next to you, looking comically big in the small room.

You were starting to get a bit tipsy, not handling alcohol as well as you’d hoped… But then again, you were feeling more daring than usual. You had scooted over a bit more towards DJ, your knees touching and you almost didn’t care if your friends saw you getting all intimate with an OH.

You were lost into staring at his orb when you caught a glimpse of the conversation in front of you. Your friends were discussing the latest news – a music star that openly stated she went out with an OH – and that had caused quite a bit of ruckus. The guy didn’t have a face – that was the whole point of object heads – and had a big television screen instead. Couldn’t blame her for falling for his looks, right ?

“How can they even kiss ??? I wouldn’t consider dating someone I can’t kiss, y’know ?” you heard one of your friends slur from the other side of the table.

“Dude, what about going down on someone ? They’re missing out big time !” a girl continued, making some obscene gestures with her hands.

This made you more pissed off and bold you’d ever felt.

“Hey guys, watch me !” you shot at them.

As their gazes went towards you, you pushed DJ’s chest and made him fall onto the couch. You promptly climbed onto him, grabbed his face and kissed him.

You didn’t expect anything other than proving to your dumb friends how it could be done, but you were surprised to feel something.

A tingle on your lips, spreading from the contact point where they met the smooth sphere. A tugging feeling when you backed away, as if he didn’t want you to let go, yet. Things you didn’t get enough time to dwell on as you pulled away and looked at your friends quite triumphantly.

“See ? Easy peasy !”

“Girllll you’re crazy !!! Going and kissing DJ out of nowhere !!” they laughed, and started telling your adventure to the people who were singing and missed on the action.

You slipped a glance at DJ, who just sat back up and didn’t utter a thing, a big smooch mark visible on his orb and for some reason, this made need flare in your gut. Just play it cool, you’re drunk, a kiss is nothing – you kept saying that to yourself. And downed more beers to hide how embarrassed you were.

At the end of the night, the group disbanded and your drunk self was left to get back home alone. Until strong hands helped you walk straight, and as you raised your head you saw DJ next to you.

“What are you doinnng ?” you slurred, tongue feeling numb inside your mouth.

“You’re too drunk to walk all the way home” he simply stated.

“My home’s closer, I’ll bring you there for the night” he then said, maybe a little lower.

“Righhhht !” you said enthusiastically “Where is it ?”

“Cast Tech District” he muttered in a breath.

That was the same district as the karaoke bar you were, so it would indeed be a closer walk than your place. Not that you had enough brainpower to process that at the moment.

As you stumbled inside his place, he helped you sit on his couch and closed the door.

You slumped down and closed your eyes, trying to get the dizziness out of your system, but to no avail.

“…’re …..y ..n. …”

“What ?” you mumbled, unable to make out words from what he said, cracking your eyes open again as if it would help you hear better.

“You’re really drunk, aren’t you ?”

DJ was sitting next to you and as soon as the words were out in the air, he dived in and kissed you.

His large hands on your cheeks, keeping your face steady as his orb pressed onto your lips, sending the tingling sensation all over them. You couldn’t figure out what was happening, so you just sat there. He broke the embrace time and time again, the feeling like he was sucking at your lips, only to kiss you again an instant later. There was a fog in your mind that you couldn’t hope to get rid of anytime soon.

“Wha—” you started

“Is this why you kissed me ? To feel what an OH would be like ?”

There was no way you could answer that. This whole time you had been lying to everybody, maintaining a facade… And in front of the person you wanted to tell the most, you just couldn’t.

“Hehe, it actually feels pretty good y’know ??” you said with a laugh as DJ hoisted you from the couch and walked towards his room. He was so tall you almost had vertigo when you looked down from where he was holding you.

“An OH isn’t too bad— oof!” you were dropped onto his huge bed into the soft, deep purple covers.

You rested your head on the plush material, eyes wanting to close, until you felt hands grabbing at your waistband.

“Hey, what are you doin’ ?” you mumbled while sitting up as best you could.

DJ’s thick fingers were nimbly unbuttoning your pants, he yanked them down and tossed them away. Sleep was promptly pushed to the back of your mind as you scrambled to try and cover yourself, but to no avail. Your body wasn’t responding correctly, and all he had to do was swat your weak hands away.

“Let me show you how we object head do things”

This cut into your heart more than anything else you’d heard. There was so much bitterness in his tone, barely hidden.

And that’s when your panties went off.

DJ grabbed your butt with his hands and pulled you to the edge of the bed where he was kneeling, and boy had you dreamed of seeing him like this under you. He was still towering over you and that made your gut twist in expectation.

He slowly pried your clamped thighs open and you hid your face behind your arm, unable to look at him while your core was fully exposed to his view. Maybe you felt a breath, maybe you felt a slight tingle, but it could have all been your imagination, your expectation of him.

When he touched you, down there, you couldn’t repress the moan that slipped through your lips.

It was like nothing you’d ever experienced, like a soft buzzing and tingling coming from the contact point between his orb and your clit, and the sucking… Each stroke of his, or whatever it was called, dragged a cry out of you as you writhed on the bed. It was just too intense, too good, the fire in your belly reaching higher and higher.

DJ kept your hips still with a bruising grip as he ate you out, your back arching desperately into his touch. At some point, you felt one of his huge fingers spread your lips apart and dip slightly into you. The stretch was almost too much, but it felt so good.

How many times had you fantasized about him doing all of this to you ? You wished you could tell him, but only venom came out of your mouth.

“Wow, I guess I can see a perk to having an OH partner now, hah” you were breathless, but you couldn’t help trying to keep that wall up, to have the lie go on just a bit longer.

Pathetic. You were pathetic and you wanted to cry as your words assuredly carved even deeper gouges into DJ’s heart.

But he didn’t stop and soon enough you cried out as you came around his finger, hand fisting the sheets and body tensing as you rode out your orgasm, until the stimulation from his orb became too much.

“Fuck…” you breathed out as he dropped you down onto the mattress, unable to move a limb.

That had been absolutely intense and you felt thoroughly spent.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw DJ looming over you, his cock in one hand and spreading your legs apart with the other. His shadow covered your naked, sweaty body and the light coming from behind him gave him an ethereal aspect, rays making his slick-covered orb glint in the darkness.

“If you don’t tell me to stop, you’re about to get fucked by an OH”

And there was no way you could tell him to stop.

He pushed the head of his cock inside of you and it was so much bigger than what you expected. His finger already felt like an average dick, so what did you think his actual cock would be like ? He was stretching you open, inch by inch, as you laid beneath him.

It hurt like hell, but it was also everything you wanted and you couldn’t push him away. Tears were spilling out from your eyes, under your arm you covered your face with, as you hid the sobs and spasms wrecking your body. When he was finally fully sheathed inside of you, you heard him say

“Are you okay ?”

…

“You should’ve told me to stop…”

…

“Or maybe are you pitying me ?”

You couldn’t say a thing as he drew his conclusions for himself.

“I’ll start to move, alright ?” his tone was soft, fragile even. You hated it, you wanted to tell him you liked this, that you liked him, but you lacked the resolve.

And he did move, slowly, gently, his huge cock pulling out of you and pushing back in again in a rhythmic manner. While it did hurt at first, heat was now coiling in your gut at each of his movements and obscene sounds were coming from where you were joined.

You still couldn’t look at him, even though he was buried deep inside of you, warmth flaring from the unique contact point between your bodies.

He continued going slowly for you, even as you could feel his arms tremble from the self-restraint and his discrete, contained moans.

You wanted to tell him to go all out, that you were enjoying this, but how could you after lying your way there ? Once again, your words turned sour on your tongue.

“You can go harder you know, I’m not gonna break” you said with a dopey smile, hoping he could cast that upon your drunkenness.

He paused for a bit, and you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. You could almost come from that alone, along with his shortness of breath and the weight of his arms digging into the mattress all around you. He was so fucking huge after all, and that was what you liked. Call it a kink or whatever, but you had no problem with object heads and that’s what got you into that situation.

And you came right when he pulled back and slammed into you. Your body arched and tensed under him as he continued plowing inside of you, riding out your orgasm, crossing the threshold of sensitivity and getting you ready for yet another high.

You wanted to hold him, to call his name, but you couldn’t. So you pressed your arm against your eyes harder and grabbed the sheets until your knuckles turned white, and came again before he even did once.

As you tightened around him, you heard him strangle a grunt and felt something hot spill inside of you, through the condom. You almost wished he didn’t wear one, so he could mark you as his and maybe, maybe then you’d have the courage of admitting your feelings to him.

You were coming down from you third climax when he pulled out and removed the rubber, tying it in a knot to prevent its content from going everywhere.

How beautiful you looked, spread out on his bed and looking absolutely worn and sated, he thought, something akin to melancholy reflecting into his orb.

“Hey, are you alright ?” he started, but you feigned being asleep to avoid the conversation. You weren’t brave enough, after all.

So you laid still and awkward as he gently cleaned you up, muttering excuses as he was doing so. He dressed you up carefully with a shirt of his, shimmied you inside some boxers and tucked you in his own bed.

And while you were waiting for true sleep to come, DJ’s sniffling and sobbing coming from the couch went on for what felt like an eternity.

The next morning, you woke up and dressed at best you could, trying to ignore all that had happened the previous night. Your legs felt weak and there was a dull ache in your core that reminded you of what had transpired a few hours ago.

“Oh, hi, you’re up” a deep voice resounded in your back, making you jump.

“Oh, DJ !! Hi !! Didn’t see you there !” you forced out with a smile, a laugh, anything to mask the dread and awkwardness lurking inside of you.

He began to say something, but you cut him off with an excuse and bolted out the door, making up something about having an important lunch with your mom.

“But, about last night…” he persisted

“Last night ? What happened ?? I don’t remember a thing, sorry haha ! Must’ve been too drunk !” you replied probably too quickly for it to seem sincere, but panic was getting to you.

“I’ll call you when I get home, ok ?” you said as you were getting farther away from him, the ache in your chest growing stronger as all you wanted was to hold him close and tell him that everything was a lie. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

And when the evening came, you wanted to send him a message, to tell him you were sorry, that you wanted to spend time with him… That was when you realized how cruel you had been. How pained he must have been when you pretended you didn’t remember a thing. How he muttered that he meant last night under his breath as you were busy fleeing. How he stood there, struck and hurt, uttering an ultimate “I’m sorry” just loud enough for you to hear.

A few years later, progress had been made concerning the acceptance of object heads, and you were finally making your coming-out as an OH-lover. If that’s what going to an OH bar for the first time meant, at least.

You were facing the door, still pondering if it was a good idea, and you were about to go back home when the bar opened and someone dragged you inside.

“Hiii sweetheart, don’t be shy !” a robot with a weird hairdo said as he brought you up to the bar.

A tall man with a screen for a face and a fur-collared coat was cleaning a glass.

“What would you like to drink, ma’am ?”

“Uhh… I can’t really hold my liquor, so something soft” you responded, feeling uneasy.

“You know this is a bar, right ?” another robot chimed in, with a different accent color and hairstyle.

“Stop bothering her, TenTen” this time, it was a girl with orange skin and a big grin that sat next to you.

“So, why are you here for ?”

“Uhh, well, I…” why was it so hard to say, still ?

“You’re here for the OH ?” a green robot interrupted.

“For the object heads ?” a red one continued.

“For the weirdos like us ?” a white robot perpetuated.

“TenTen, stop it” the barman grumbled out, exasperation palpable in his voice.

The five robots saluted immediately and went to bother other patrons.

“Wait, didn’t you call the yellow one TenTen too ?” you asked the girl next to you, a bit puzzled.

“Oh yeah, they’re all TenTen” she grinned.

“They’re… all… TenTen ???” you repeated dumbly.

“Yup, you get one, you get the five of them. Like a group discount or something. Definitely not a match for everyone” she sighed.

This comforted you a bit. If a group of five male robots could look for a partner, maybe you wouldn’t look so out of place either.

“So ya didn’t tell me, what’re you looking for here ?”

You told this girl your story, as well as the ever silent barman that lent an ear to it whenever he wasn’t preparing drinks. At the end, she was almost crying and you had to stop her from hugging you in a bone-crushing embrace.

“And you didn’t tell him ??? That’s so saaaaaaaaad” she bawled as you sipped on your drink.

“Yeah… that’s… what happened…” you felt awkward, but it was so liberating to tell it to someone. Even though you definitely were the one at fault there.

“So you’re looking for a big guy, right ?” a voice on your other side asked, and as you turned around you saw a huge figure bent over the bar, its head hidden by the hood of a sweater.

“Oh, yeah, I guess…” you said hesitantly.

“How about I make you forget about that guy from your story tonight ?” the deep voice continued, sending shivers through you. Why did it felt like you knew this voice, this way of speaking ?

“Thank you but… I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. I still have feeling for that guy and—” tears started welling up so you stopped talking and wiped them away. Why did you always want to cry when talking about him ? It was already a few years ago, so why was the pain still ever present…

“Hmm ? I didn’t hear that quite right” the man next to you said, and as you turned to look at him, he took off his hood and revealed his head – a smooth orb holding a galaxy inside of it.

“Could you repeat it ?”

You could hear the grin in his voice and your breath caught in your throat because, by the stars, that was DJ. Looming over you from his impossible height and resting his head on one of his huge hands, he was staring at you as you had inadvertently confessed to him after all those years.

Your face flushed red and you babbled an excuse as you hid your face and turned away from him, but he caught you in his embrace and next thing you knew, the whole bar was cheering for you, the orange girl being the loudest.

What a coincidence it was that, after being a closeted OH-lover for so many years, you found your high school crush in a bar and that he would still harbor some feelings for you.

He now went by the name “DJ Subatomic Supernova”, and that night you also went back to his place a bit drunk, a bit giddy, something hot twirling in your heart and burning in your gut.

You couldn’t keep your hands off from each other as soon as you passed the threshold to his apartment. It was dark and you kept stumbling onto things, but he held you, grabbed you, pressed you onto his chest, closer.

Your lips met his orb and after a few heated kisses, he went down your neck, leaving what felt like hickeys as his hands stroked your sides gently, slowly. You grabbed his jacket and ushered him out of it as he slipped his hands under your top, dancing around your belly and leaving embers in his wake. The garment was discarded on the floor and so was your shirt, revealing yet another undergarment.

It was promptly added to the mess on the floor and then you felt DJ’s hands fondling your breasts, that felt so, so tiny in comparison to his fingers. He could probably wrap his hands around your torso and lift you up like a doll if he wanted, and the thought only sparked more want inside of you.

Step after step, he guided you inside his place until the back of your knees hit his bed and you fell onto it, staring at the giant above you. If the fall hadn’t already knocked most of the air out of your lungs, you would have been breathless because of how good DJ looked. His ceiling was covered in dim stars, casting a timid light upon him and accentuating his height, the changing colors of his orb, the details of his hands.

You stared at him for a bit as he stood there, also drinking your half-naked sight splayed out onto his bed, then scooted back on the mattress to give him some space. As he didn’t seem to come, you held out your arms towards him, enticing him towards you, and he did.

The bed dipped as he laid a knee on it, his huge arms on each side of your head as he grew closer to you, then sat back up as he removed his shirt. He wrapped his arms around his waist and tugged the tight garment up, up, putting on a delicious show for you to watch.

You had never seen him shirtless, and boy was that a thing to look at. His skin was deep and dark, purple like the night skies with only a few tinges of stars here and there, like adorable moles. The dim light suggested more than showed his firm pecs and broad shoulders, and you could feel heat pooling between your legs already.

You scrambled to your feet and unfastened his pants, yanking them down to reveal a big bulge inside of his boxers.

“You’re okay with that ?” he asked softly, seemingly hesitant.

“I’ve always wanted to do this”

And that was the truth. Ever since your first encounter, you had wanted to reciprocate the attention, the affection.

While you were palming him through his briefs, you felt his nimble fingers work your own pants out of the way. You sensed his hesitation though, when he went about the waistband of your panties, circling his thumb around your hipbone.

“Let me show you something” you said as you stood up on the bed, not even being taller than him on his knees.

You bent and slowly pulled your panties off, strings of slick connected to the garment, as you showed him how much you wanted him in the dim, dark light of his apartment. The soft glow of the stars reflected off your thighs as you stood there, fully naked, in front of DJ. You felt like some sort of goddess with him kneeling reverently in front of you, his member straining the fabric of his underwear.

But soon the fleeting moment was over as passion took the reins again.

DJ all but ripped away his boxers and grabbed your hips, making you straddle him. From there, you could see closely how big his cock was, hard and throbbing and leaking a bit. It rested heavily onto your belly and you craned your neck to look at DJ.

His fingers dug into your soft thighs as he rested his orb against your forehead.

“You think you can do without foreplay ? I don’t think I can hold on much longer” he said breathlessly, his deep voice echoing through his chest.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting this too” you answered unceremoniously, all concerns out of the window as you lifted your hips to match his tip to your entrance.

He helped you position yourself, and as you were about to sink onto him, he held your hips still.

“Wait. Rubber.”

“Don’t care” you breathed out, grabbing his neck and pulling him in for a kiss as you finally, finally felt him push inside of you.

God he was big, even more so without any prep on your side, but feeling him slowly impale you on his cock was exhilarating. You lost yourself in his kisses as he pushed your body steadily down, down on him, until your hips met and you sucked in a much needed breath.

You rested for a bit, both panting and grabbing at each other like an anchor in the storm, craving more contact and friction than ever.

DJ wrapped his hands around you and began moving slowly, ever so slowly, turning your insides to hot mush with every stroke of his dick.

“DJ… DJ…” you moaned out, unable to form any coherent thought already.

“What is it, starshine ?” he rumbled out, still keeping at his torturing slow pace.

You could feel every detail of his shaft going through you, the way your walls grabbed onto him as he pulled out and gave in when he pushed back inside. How slick was pouring out of your stuffed hole and onto your thighs and his, how obscene sounds echoed in between pants and soft cries as your hips met again and again.

“Please, go harder” you begged.

The heat in your gut was unbearable, steadily rising but not enough for you. You would’ve loved to drag this out but you needed him, all of him, at once.

“How about you show me, then ?” he grinned as he laid down onto the bed, his hands resting on your thighs but his hips slowing down to a halt.

You repressed a whimper and started moving yourself, thighs trembling at each up and down, hands grabbing at the covers for purchase.

It wasn’t that fast at first, but soon you picked up speed as he helped lift you up from his cock. He hit you deep every time and your moans grew louder as the slap of skin on skin increased rhythmically. You could feel you were both getting close, your muscles tightening and trembling, his hands gripping you a bit harder, leaving dents in your flesh.

You were teetering on the edge, breath short and sweat making your bodies slick and sticky, when he grabbed you in a tight embrace, nuzzling his head into your neck and leaving a few kisses there.

“What—” you didn’t finish.

His hips rolled into yours and you felt him rock you on his cock, his pubes giving your engorged clit just the right amount of friction to send you over the edge. You tightened around him, nails raking down his back as he continued rocking through your climax, one time, two times, three times and it was his turn to spill.

He sucked on your neck harder, strangling a moan as you felt his hot cum pour inside of you, filling you up and dripping out of you. A shudder coursed through you as you saw the mess you were, white onto dark, fluids leaking all over and his girth still buried inside of you.

You felt him shift a bit after a while, still not separating your joint bodies.

“Again ?” you asked timidly, not sure how he would take it.

“The night is still young, I suppose I could do that” he said while slowly pushing your back into the mattress, spreading your numb thighs once more.

And while it was still dark out, you did it time and time again until the Milky Way was etched onto his purple bedsheets and your body was deliciously marked all over by DJ.

#dj subatomic supernova #dj ss nsr #no straight roads #fanfiction #smut #romance #object head #a bit of angst #reader insert #x reader

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benji-writes · 4 years

Text

The Laundry Room

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3416

Summary: Bucky is soft. He finds love in the laundry room of his apartment building.

He wasn’t sure what it was like to be in love. He had loved people, sure – his ma, his sister, Steve. But he didn’t really know what it was like to truly love a woman, and to be loved by her in return. He thought it must be beautiful.

It wasn’t what he’d wanted in the forties. He was so young – handsome. Girls wanted to be around him all the time, looking up at him wide eyed and lashes fluttering. He’d take them dancing, because that’s what they wanted, and he’d walk them home. He’d get a kiss on the cheek from the girls who were looking for a boyfriend, and a kiss on the lips from the girls who were looking for a good time, and he’d walk home alone.

It was never more than that though. No one ever made it past a few dates, and then came the war, and the dark, and the cold, and suddenly his hair was long. When his hair was short, and his body whole, he was someone else. He didn’t know who that was anymore, angry that he would never get him back. Girls didn’t look at him anymore. No wide eyed women he could call “doll.” No one who’s eyelashes would flutter. And if girls wouldn’t look at him, what did the rest of his life look like?

Back then, he thought he’d eventually find someone to settle down with. He dreamed about the end of the war, soldiers coming home to the ones they’d left behind. He dreamed he’d meet a girl. One he could write letters to while he was away. One he could come home to. The war would end, and he’d have long since asked her father for his blessing. He’d get down on one knee. In a house of his own, with his wife and a baby. A big backyard where the kids could run around in the grass. If anyone had known how much he thought about it, he never would have lived it down. But the world was different now. He was different now. And how could he let himself dream of a life where all those old wishes came true? He would just be disappointed in the end.

You met Bucky in the laundry room of your apartment building. You lived in a pretty nice place. Not so nice that you had a doorman or security, but you needed a code to get in the first door, and a special key to get in the second. A nice enough place for there to be a laundry room in your building so the tenants wouldn’t need to block out the hours in a day to go and sit at the laundromat.

You did your laundry every time your hamper was full, and you had two hampers. One for your clothes, and the other for cloths and towels. This meant that you washed your clothes every Saturday. Every other Wednesday, you did your towels. You liked the regularity that came with this schedule. The routine nature of it comforted you, and so unless there was some terrible emergency, absolutely nothing was going to disrupt your laundry schedule.

You loved your laundry time, in part due to how much you loved the laundry room itself. When you got off the elevator and walked down the hall to the laundry room, you saw the machines lined against the back wall. They stacked one on top of the other, and there were four washer/dryer sets. There was a big soft couch in the laundry room, with a big purple plush chair and a coffee table. There was also the long table in the middle of the room where you could fold your clothes, or put down your detergent or dryer sheets. The walls were a soft green, and it felt like a safe space, and no one was ever there when you went.

You always did your laundry fairly late at night. For the most part, midnight would roll around, and you’d transfer your clothes from the hamper to the laundry basket and putter your way downstairs. No one in the building ever did their clothes at this hour, and that meant for the hour and forty five minutes while your clothes cycled through the machines, the laundry room was yours. Sometimes you’d just sit on the couch. You’d read romances or watch tv shows on your phone. Sometimes you sang, and sang, and spun around the room to the Tangled soundtrack. When everything was too much, you would sit on top of the long table and watch the laundry spin.

The night you met him, you’d fallen asleep on the long table. He’d just moved into a new building, enjoying the quiet that came with being slightly farther away from the city. It was a nice enough place, and it felt good to be on his own again. To open the windows as wide as he wanted, or keep the tv on the Food Network channel all day. He never had to wear shoes, and he could take his arm off without worrying about anybody looking. A spider plant he’d bought at the farmers market sat on his window sill. He’d named it Dave. There was a laundry room in the basement, and he could buy the Gain detergent (because it smelled better than the Tide they used at the compound) and the Snuggle dryer sheets and fold his own clothes again. He liked it better this way. On his own where he could choose.

It was about a week after he’d moved in. His arm was off, and it was time to do his laundry. Unwilling to risk the possibility of running into neighbors in the hallway or the laundry room, he waited till night. After all, who did their laundry after midnight on a Saturday? In a white t-shirt and blue fleece pajama pants he made his way downstairs. Holding the laundry basket against his hip, he walked off the elevator and down the hall to the laundry room. What Bucky had not factored into his night, was a beautiful woman snoring softly on top of the table in the middle of the room. Bucky stood there for a moment, not quite sure if what he was seeing was actually real or not. He walked backwards out of the room, waited a moment, then closed his eyes and shook his head back and forth a few times, as if to erase the image like nothing more than powder in an etch a sketch. He opened his eyes and walked back into the room hoping it would be empty, but there you still were. Sleeping. Your clothes from the wash now done, just waiting for you to wake up and move them to the dryer.

Bucky didn’t know what to do. Just standing in the doorway, he couldn’t help but stare at you. You’d sprawled out, limbs hanging off the side, with your phone laying on the ground where it had clearly fallen out of your hand. You wore a big shirt with a picture of an alien on the front that said “Humans aren’t real,” and a pair of boxers as pajama shorts. One of your flip flops had fallen off your foot, and he noticed your fingers and toes were painted a matching shade of periwinkle. He couldn’t stop looking at you, which he realized was perhaps kinda creepy, but there was just something about you. He wanted to look at you, and to keep looking at you. He wanted you to wake up, and to look at him too.

He wasn’t sure what he should do. Should he turn around and come back another time? Should he just put his stuff in the laundry and leave? Should he wake you up? Why were you on the table when there was a couch not five feet away? Should he try and coax you up and gently over to the couch? But if he did that why wouldn’t you just go back to your own apartment? He wasn’t even wearing his prosthetic. Fuck. Okay. Here’s the plan – pick the phone up from the floor, put the phone on the table, quietly put the clothes in the washing machine, and leave.

With his mind made up, he put his basket down in front of the machine. He picked your phone up and placed it by you on the table. He opened the wash, which made a very loud clicking sound as it opened. He threw his clothes in, filled the machine with detergent, and shut the door to start the cycle. Naturally, echoing through the silence, the door made the same loud clicking as it closed, and an even louder click as the machine locked. Taking a deep breath, and feeling like he’d just run a god damn marathon, he turned to leave only to make eye contact with the woman. Fuck.

You had woken up, probably from the loud click of the machine, and Bucky imagined what he must’ve looked like to you. A one armed man you’d never seen before standing in the laundry room at almost one in the morning. He was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he was not wearing shoes, and that his big toe stuck out of the hole in his left sock.

Uncertain of what to do, Bucky just stood there. Looking at you, as you looked at him. Two people frozen at the threshold of something nameless. A liminal moment in time.

You reached your hand up to wipe the sleep out of your eyes and said, “Good mornin’.”

Rolling with it he said, “Mornin’.”

After a big yawn you said, “You the guy who just moved in 4B?”

He nodded, almost solemnly.

“I’m in 4A.”

He was quiet after that, as if taking in the information. You weren’t sure what else to say, and neither was he really, but he still stood there.

After a moment you said, “Sorry I was asleep. That was probably pretty weird.”

He shrugged his shoulders, not particularly worried about it. It took a second, but then he spoke up again and said, “Your laundry is done.”

You let out a big sigh, and hopped off the table, sliding your shoe back on once your foot hit the ground. Wordlessly you started to change your stuff over. Bucky, uncertain of what to do, simply watched you for a bit. When you turned back to look at him, he was gone. If it weren’t for the laundry basket sat in front of his machine, the clothes inside spinning around, you’d have sworn you dreamt the whole thing. You imagined what you must’ve looked like to him. He looked like a sculpture of Adonis and you’d been drooling, asleep on top of a public table. Thinking too much about it was going to give you a headache.

When he came back downstairs to move his clothes into the dryer, you were sat on the couch like a normal person. When you glanced over at him, you noticed he’d changed into a long sleeved hoodie, and looked like he had two regular arms. Before common sense or any semblance of decorum could stop you, the words tumbled out, “Was I dreaming or did you only have one arm half an hour ago.”

The second you said it, you smacked you hand over your mouth. He turned to look at you, since he’d just finished moving his things and closed the dryer door. He stared at you, though not unkindly, and as if desperate to make up for asking you rushed out all at once, “I am so sorry you do not have to answer that question. That was so not the right thing to say, I am so sorry. Oh my god, I’m so so sorry. Please don’t hate me forever, I promise I’m not normally this rude.”

You could see the corner of his mouth turn up, “It’s alright. I put my prosthetic back on.”

You sat there looking at him, and nodded earnestly. You were too embarrassed to say anything else, and suddenly overwhelmed, you couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“Have a good night, doll.”

You threw your head back and groaned once he was gone. What an embarrassment.

—

The next time you saw him was a week later. Saturday night, laundry time. You were wide awake that night, and playing solitaire on the coffee table when he walked in. “Dancing in the Moonlight” played on your phone in the background, and he gave you a soft smile when he walked in. You wanted him to smile at you again, so you just smiled back. He went about his business, you went about yours, and from there on out, that was how it was. He came back every Saturday after that. Normally you two didn’t say anything, the first few Saturdays especially. In those days, there was no more than passing smiles, glances stolen when the other was looking away. Back then, you only knew what his voice sounded like in a sleepy memory at the back of your mind.

But the weeks went on, and suddenly he would linger for longer in the laundry room, rather than going upstairs right after he’d put his stuff in the machines. Before you knew it, he took up residence in the faded purple chair, that you’d now come to think of as his, while you sat on the couch, or sometimes on the long table.

One day, seated criss cross on the table, you finally heard him speak again, “What are you doing when you sit up there?”

You turned back to look at him, and you met those curious blue eyes, looking at you like they could figure you all out if he just looked long enough.

“Well,” you said. “I watch the laundry spin.”

He contemplated that for a moment. Eventually he just said, “Why?”

Not quite sure how to articulate it out loud, you told him, “Why don’t you come try it and figure that out for yourself.”

Physically unable to resist the pull, he got up from his chair, put down his book and walked over to you. You moved over a little bit, and patted the spot next to you, and he sat with his legs hanging off the side. The two of you, in the dim quiet of Saturday night, watched the laundry spin. It hadn’t made sense to him before, but sitting there with you, he felt like he was beginning to understand. It was peaceful. Watching the colors go round, and the water splash against the door. Bubbles of detergent rolled gently, and there was an ease that blanketed across him. He couldn’t describe it, that same nameless thing, but in that moment, Bucky was certain that he would be okay. That everything, in the end, would be alright. He wasn’t sure if it was you, or the laundry, or the way your knee lay lightly against his thigh, but he could feel it. The threshold of something. He looked over at you, only for a moment. Your eyes, trained on the gentle spin of the washer, he thought he’d never seen anything more beautiful than you. And in that instant he allowed himself to dream the dreams of his youth. Those hopes of a woman who’d love him someday. A girl he’d get down on one knee for. The house, with the backyard big enough for a swing set. A baby he’d rock to sleep. This time, he imagined a laundry room. One with a big warm couch sat right in front of the machines. They could cover themselves in blankets, listen to that easy hum, and watch as bursts of color went by. He imagined one hamper, where both of their clothes went. A washer mixed with his and hers. Right then, Bucky Barnes knew he would marry you, and by God, he still did not even know your name. You looked at him, only to find he was already looking at you. You gave him a thousand watt smile and he couldn’t help but give you one right back.

Soon enough you were both folding your clothes downstairs rather than taking your baskets up to fold them in your separate apartments, and before you even realized, you were doing towels on Saturday nights too. The time spent downstairs growing longer and longer. You didn’t always talk, but sometimes he’d ask what song you were listening to and you’d spend hours showing him songs you thought he might like, the ones you loved the most. He’d show you the ones he listened to as a kid, and he’d spin you around the laundry room to Vera Lynn. You’d sway back and forth, and he’d place his head gently on top of your. You’d ask if he was down for a game of cards, and suddenly four hours had gone by and you were getting your ass handed to you at gin rummy. He once apologized for taking his prosthetic off in front of you, and you smacked him across the chest and told him not to talk stupid. You saw him without it a lot more after that night. You sat together on the couch. You set up your laptop and watched The Wizard of Oz and the Fast and the Furious movies.You’d bring drinks and snacks and share them freely. Those walls were yours, and Saturday nights together became the most sacred of practices.

It was early one morning when there was an erratic knocking from the front hall. They were pounding on your door, and it was six am on Sunday morning. You had only left the laundry room an hour and a half before. Rolling out of bed with an angry groan, you opened your door, and there he was. Half dressed, prosthetic off, he looked to be in such distress it woke you right up. Before you could ask what was wrong, he said, “I have something very important I need to ask you, and I keep thinking about it, and I just need you to give me an answer okay?”

“Of course,” you said without a trace of hesitation.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down, “What is your name?”

You blinked at him for a moment, and maybe it was the seriousness on his face, or the lack of sleep, or maybe it was just him, but you burst out laughing. A bottomless belly laugh, that you felt flutter in your chest. Had you not laughed so hard you began coughing, you wonder if you ever would have stopped. He still stood there, deadly serious, and noticing this you breathed deep and settled.

“Will you tell me, please?” He whispered it so tenderly, that you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching up to cup his cheek with your hand.

“My name is Y/N.”

He closed his eyes, “Y/N.”

He repeated it once, then twice. It sounded like reverence. Fell from his lips like a prayer. And when he opened his eyes you whispered, “Will you tell me yours?”

The corner of his mouth turned up, “My name is James. But, most people call me Bucky.”

You closed your eyes, much like he had, and almost on accident you breathed out, “James.”

Before you could open your eyes, you felt his lips on yours. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as he possibly could. For the first time, he knew what it was like to love a woman, and to be loved by her in return.

You slept beside him that morning – shared blankets and body heat. You watched him sleep, the sound of the rain hitting the roof and the windows. For just a moment you imagined a ring on your finger. A house, with a laundry room of your own. Walls that kept the two of you safe and warm. You could see the first time you held your baby. You’d look into their little eyes and they’d be his exact shade of blue. You moved closer to him, and on instinct, in his sleep, he adjusted to you. He pulled you to him, and bleary-eyed you snuggled as far into his warmth as you could, closed your eyes, and fell asleep.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky x you

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blu-eh · 3 years

Text

quaranteens

[AO3]

Or: a day in the life of the quarantined high school spider-kid.

Cindy Moon thinks she knows weird.

New York has always been a little strange on its own—there’s a reason it’s so well known despite the general vastness that is the entirety of America. Still, the rise of superheroes and supervillains when she was a little girl had been a punch in the face. Aliens had been more of a straight-up knockout at the time. The Avengers formed and, yeah, that has been somewhat of a wild ride because now there is always something happening in New York. Still, those somethings are usually handled by at least one of the wayward superheroes who now live in the city she calls home.

Until they weren’t. Like half the population of the universe, she just up and died for about five years before they were suddenly resurrected and thrown into a world that they didn’t really belong to anymore. If aliens were a knock-out, she's not quite sure how she'd describe the previous months of absolute anarchy.

It’s alright, though, because eventually everything calmed down and life is back to its normal amount of weird. Social media is currently bopping because she (like half the population) had missed five years’ worth of memes and are desperate to learn. Even now, eight months later, she still hasn’t caught up totally. She still goes to school in the morning. She says hello to the friends that were blipped with her (and says goodbye to the ones that weren't). There are other happier things, too, like that time she caught Spider-Man on the rooftop singing some offbeat pop song. He spent the better part of an hour desperately trying to get her to delete the shaky video she took while trying not to laugh.

(She posted it anyway. It had almost half a million views by the time the week was over.)

So, yeah, Cindy is pretty confident she knows weird.

You can imagine her reaction when the quarantine started.

No one is quite sure what caused it, exactly. Cindy had spent late nights on google like any other reasonable person trying to find an answer for why all of New York and most of the east coast has to be locked up in their homes for the foreseeable future. There no certified answer, really, but Cindy can pretty safely assume it’s probably something supervillain-related. That, or it’s aliens again.

(She really, really hopes it’s not aliens.)

The reason doesn’t change the outcome. Work and schools close. No one is allowed to leave their homes or apartments. Teachers spend exactly a week setting up online classes, and Cindy very much enjoys that break, before she’s forced to attend first-period chemistry at exactly seven-thirty in the morning online. If that isn’t enough to certify a horrifying start to her day, then the mandatory ‘video cameras on at all times’ rule certainly would.

But that’s all fine. It’s whatever. Video cameras on at seven-thirty for online classes might really suck, but there are some exciting things about it too. Mainly, Cindy can now confirm her theory about how Suzan hasn’t outgrown her middle school horse girl phase given the number of horse pictures still hanging up on her furthest wall. Or there’s that fact that Flash’s apartment is always strangely empty and startlingly clean despite being so absurdly big and nice. Or that Abe’s bunsen burner collection next to his bed makes him a nerd with a capital N.

So, it’s not all bad. She’s known her classmates (or, at least, she's known half of her classmates) since they were all young, but even she has never really interacted with them in a situation like this. Being stuck in quarantine with everyone else lets her see just a little bit closer into everyone’s lives.

This all leads back to the most crucial point—Cindy Moon knows weird. And Peter Parker? Yeah, Peter Parker is weird.

Peter’s life is no mystery to most of Midtown School of Science and Technology. Especially not to Cindy, who’s known him since they were both toddlers in the same preschool. He’s not exactly subtle in any way, either. She knows about how he lives with his aunt in Queens, and, subsequently, his uncle’s untimely and incredibly devastating death. She knows how he’s a nerd that likes school, how he wears science pun t-shirts every other day, and how he’s just about as close to a teacher’s pet as you can get while being the school’s greatest genius slacker.

She also knows that he mysteriously got jacked their freshman year of high school, and no one could ever explain why. Something happened, then, because he quit a lot of their shared activities. Robotics club had been the first causality, but it doesn't stop there. He started getting into furious whispered conversations with Ned more frequently in the hallways when they both thought no one was there. He started skipping decathlon practice not long after, which was perhaps the most startling given how dedicated he had been to decathlon previously. Sometimes he comes in with a limp or sloppily done makeup to cover up a bruise, only for it to disappear the next day. Cindy is also pretty certain she isn’t making up the time, right before the blip, that Peter had seemingly disappeared off a moving bus right as the aliens started attacking.

Peter Park is weird. This isn’t new.

However, what really ties this all together is that Cindy might not know everything about Peter Parker, but even she’s fairly convinced his little apartment in Queens is not supposed to look like a log cabin disguised as a mansion. Yet, every morning when she logs onto Zoom for their shared seven-thirty chemistry class, Cindy can definitely make out the beautiful finishes of a massive kitchen with beautifully crafted wood cabinets and a stunning view of the lake through the kitchen window. If Cindy’s paying attention enough, sometimes she catches the blurry image of a toddler running around at seemingly random intervals.

Flash is convinced he’s using a background filter to make himself seem cooler. Cindy is not so sure.

It takes another week of Zoom University, but the reality of the situation comes crashing down in perhaps the most spectacular fashion. Cindy’s seen a lot of soap operas and medical dramas recently, but absolutely nothing compares to the glorious spectacle that is Peter Parker’s life.

Like most of this weird form of a quarantine adventure, it starts in the regular seven-thirty AM Zoom chemistry class. There’s nothing specifically remarkable about this chemistry period—the most interesting thing so far is how fast the majority of the class had forgone any sense of getting ready in the morning. Even Brad Davis, who has been trying to impress MJ for the better part of the year, did nothing more than roll over and turn on his camera when asked. Cindy herself barely makes it to her desk in her PJs in time for class to start. It’s only MJ, who somehow manages to get up at the ass crack of dawn every morning and still manages to look perfect in time for class, and Peter, who’s still sitting in that picaresque kitchen, that even try to look like they’re ready for the day.

Mr. Cobbwell commented on it the first couple of days to get them a little more motivated to be presentable. Now, even he looks like he’s barely holding it all together. It’s truly remarkable how a single Zoom class can expose man's fallacies in such a blatant and brutal manner.

So life continues on. The first part of the class is normal—Cindy's not quite sure what they're learning about but she'll probably figure it out by the time the second test rolls around. Then the toddler runs behind Peter Parker’s screen.

That in itself isn’t wholly unusual. Cindy’s not quite sure where Peter is, exactly, but the toddler isn’t anything she hasn’t seen before. In fact, the toddler has made quite a few (adorable) appearances over the last two weeks. The most notable one being the time she ran screaming behind Peter while Peter had been asking a question and Peter never once batted an eye.

This time, it’s the man that comes running in after her that gives Cindy pause. He scoops her up and says something that Cindy can’t hear due to the mandatory mute rule that Mr. Cobbwell had imposed on them last week after someone’s parents got into a screaming match (swearing and all) halfway through the lecture. He holds her on his hip, kisses her forehead, and almost immediately zeroes in on Peter's computer screen.

This man isn’t someone Cindy recognizes right away despite the ringing familiarity in her head. She squints, trying to figure out where she’s seen this man and his toddler before and why Peter is in this man’s house and/or why this man is in Peter’s house.

The man turns around to face the camera—arm full of toddler and everything—and Cindy finally makes out the fashionable goatee, oil-stained t-shirt, and actual arc reactor in his chest before she makes the connection and bites one her tongue to keep from shouting in surprise.

No way.

She’s not the only one who’s noticed, either. Mr. Cobbwell (bless his soul) is still droning on about moles or something equally unimportant. The rest of the class, though? Yeah, the rest of the class has noticed if the wide-eyed looks and subtle glances in the direction of Peter’s screen are anything to go by. The tension on the Zoom call is almost palpable.

Peter himself remains blissfully unaware of the entire situation. Cindy wants to scream.

Absolutely no fucking way.

The man—Cindy doesn’t want to call him who she thinks he really is because it makes absolutely no sense for that man to be in Peter Parker’s home—doesn’t stay for very long. He ends up wandering out of the camera’s sight not thirty seconds later—she’s not quite sure, but she thinks he might’ve winked before he left too. More than half the class has definitely taken a screenshot by this point. Herself included in this list.

It’s almost agonizing, having to sit in her uncomfortable desk chair and not say a word. It’s not like she can unmute herself and start what will definitely be the wildest Zoom class fight of the twenty-first century. Mr. Cobbwell probably wouldn’t appreciate her interrupting his stoichiometry equations, the mystery of the Tony Stark lookalike or not.

She doesn’t have to wait for long, though. Whatever stars are smiling down upon her, Mr. Cobbwell ends up being forced to take an emergency phone call. Cindy bides her time until the exact moment that Mr. Cobbwell had muted himself and walked away off-screen before she furiously unmutes herself.

“Peter fucking Parker,” she says. Peter’s head snaps up so fast that it almost looks inhuman. “Did Tony Stark just waltz in and pick up his child in the background of your Zoom call?”

Peter freezes. Wide-eyed, with ‘guilty’ written on his forehead in 72, bold, Times New Roman font. It takes a solid thirty seconds before he can put himself together enough to click the unmute button.

“I—no?” Peter says. His voice is startlingly high pitched, and his expression is nothing short of horrified.

Damn, if that isn’t anything but a confession.

There’s a voice in the background that’s too garbled to make out, but Peter quickly mutes himself and turns his camera off despite the mandatory camera-on rule that had been in place for the entirety of the founding of Zoom university. Two messages come through the Zoom chat before Cindy has the chance to wrap her head around the entire transpired interaction.

[Peter Parker]: Sorry, Mr. Cobbwell. My mic and video aren’t working.

[Peter Parker]: I think I have a bad connection.

Cindy’s not the only one who finds this bullshit if the look on Flash’s face, in particular, is anything to go by. The rest of the class simply watches this entire interaction with wide eyes. Considering this is the most interesting thing to happen to most of them in the last two weeks, Cindy can’t really bring it in herself to blame them.

“Peter,” Cindy says, loudly. “Just because you muted yourself doesn’t mean you can’t hear me. What the hell was that?”

There’s no answer. Not even a chat message comes through.

Cindy’s about to rip into him again, peanut gallery and all, when Mr. Cobbwell decides to make the most inopportune appearance in the history of teachers walking into classrooms at bad times. Truthfully, this one would go right up there on the top of a compilation of worst teacher entries.

“What happened to Peter?” Mr. Cobbwell says. He reads the messages in the class Zoom chat. “Oh, that’s unfortunate. Peter, let me know if you need any help or continue having trouble before the next class.”

[Peter Parker]: I will. Thanks!

Cindy doesn’t get the chance to wring more answers out of Peter before the class period ends. He’s the first one to leave, lack of camera appearance and all. Cindy logs into her next class confused, and frustrated, and oddly excited all at once.

---

The next morning, Cindy is the first person to log onto the Zoom call for first-period chemistry.

She’s not the only one who has this idea. By the time seven am rolls around—a full thirty minutes before class is even set to begin—over half the class is in the Zoom call. It’s no secret that Peter liked to join Zoom calls early, and everyone’s more than a little curious after the events of yesterday morning.

Like clockwork, Peter joins with his camera working at exactly seven-fifteen. He takes one look at the almost-full meeting, does a double take, and scrambles for something on his computer.

Cindy narrows her eyes. “Peter, if you leave this Zoom call, I’ll have MJ eject you from the decathlon team.”

“MJ wouldn’t do that,” Peter says but he doesn’t sound so sure.

“That all depends on how convincing her argument is,” MJ says. Her camera isn’t even on.

The look Peter gives her is so full of betrayal that Cindy almost wonders why he isn’t on the acting team.

(Then she remembers that Peter has commitment issues on a good day and, well, acting has never really been his thing. He can’t even lie with a straight face, and considering most of what comes out of his mouth this day and age is a lie, it's probably for the best that the idea is never considered again.)

“Why are we even here? It’s a background,” Flash insists. “He just coded it or something for attention.”

“Flash, shut up,” Suzan says.

“Yeah, okay, Flash. Why are you even here if you think it’s a background?” Cindy shoots right back, full of adrenaline from the Tony Stark-shaped mystery that’s being hung above all of their heads.

“No, no, no. Flash is right,” Peter says immediately. “It’s a background. I had Ned help me code it and everything.”

Ned’s in the meeting, but his camera is off, and his mic is muted. Cindy gives Ned a moment to speak up and confirm but there’s not even a twitch. Cindy turns her pointed look back to Peter.

“I said,” Peter says louder. He subtly glances in the direction of the list of names currently in the meeting, “That I coded that background with Ned!”

Ned doesn’t come on to confirm or deny. If the look Peter is sending the Zoom call is any indication, he knows that there will be no help from that corner of the room. Either Ned is watching this all go down with popcorn in his hand like the rest of the class, or Ned is AWOL and won’t be returning in time to save his best friend from getting his ass absolutely grilled.

“Right,” Cindy says dryly. “Peter, you are the worst liar in this entire class.”

“It’s a coded background,” Peter insists. “That’s all it is. It’s a coded background.”

---

It’s not a coded background.

Peter doesn’t log on early the next day. In fact, he logs on a full five minutes late and gets a snide remark from Mr. Cobbwell for his efforts. His camera is on, at least, and Cindy knows he sees her glare if his paling face is anything to go by.

I will find out, she mouths at him.

She’s pretty sure he doesn’t understand the exact words she said, but her vibes are not hard to guess. He gives her a wide-eyed stare and shakes his head in defiance.

Well. No one can say that Cindy never liked a challenge.

This time, though, she doesn’t even have to wait until the end of the class period to get more information. Peter does that all for her.

Peter’s unmuted. He had just finished giving Mr. Cobbwell a (correct) answer to the latest chemistry question when there is a thunk sound from his side of the line. Peter glances up, seeing something that isn’t in the camera’s line of sight, and his expression drops so fast that Cindy’s not convinced he’s seen a ghost.

“Who is that?” a voice says. It sounds strikingly familiar. “Peter, are you chatting with your school friends?”

“No,” Peter whispers in poorly disguised horror.

“Well, well, well,” the voice says and, oh god, it’s so familiar. “What do we have here?”

Peter lunges for his computer. He turns off his camera and mutes himself before Cindy can even think of a proper response. There’s silence in the Zoom call. Even Mr. Cobbwell can’t find it in himself to reign in the class and break the absolute grappling stillness that is currently holding the entire first-period chemistry class.

It’s all of thirty seconds before Peter’s camera flicks back on. This time, he isn’t alone.

Cindy might have thought about it, and she’s reasonably convinced that she’s right about the entire situation, but truthfully nothing could prepare her for the emotional whiplash upon seeing The Anthony Edward Stark pulling up a chair at the beautifully carved wooden table and plopping in a seat directly next to a red-faced Peter Parker. Tony Stark takes it all in—the leftover Zoom chats from those kids that don’t want to unmute themselves to ask a question, the half-finished equations written on Mr. Cobbwell’s shared screen, and the twenty-something high school kids staring at him with a combination of confusion and awe.

“Good morning to Peter’s class and friends,” The Tony Stark says. Peter’s face seems to get redder and redder. “What a wonderful day to continue the education of the youths.”

Ned turns on his camera and unmutes his mic. “Hi, Mr. Stark, sir!

“Hi, Ted,” Mr. Stark says. “Good to see you again.”

“OhmygodMr.Starkalmostknowsmyname—"

Peter buries his head and lets out the world's most pathetic whining noise.

“I—,” Mr. Cobbwell stutters out. “Mr. Stark, what are you doing…here?”

It’s a very eloquent way of asking why the hell are you in the house of one of my students? Cindy has to give him props for not being a stuttering mess. She’s not quite sure she could form actual words currently, even if she tries.

“I love disrupting important conversations,” Mr. Stark says. Cindy’s pretty convinced that he’s purposefully playing ignorant. “And I was curious to see what Peter here was doing at so early in the morning. So, what’s on the lesson plan today?”

“Well,” Mr. Cobbwell says. What’s he going to do, tell the Tony Stark to leave? No sane person would even try. “Today, we are working on balancing equations.”

“Basic stoichiometry,” Mr. Stark says. He’s ignoring Peter very obviously pushing on his shoulder. “I would say I’m rather adept at that, right, Peter?”

“Not really,” Peter says.

The Zoom chat starts blowing up. No one wants to verbally get in the middle of what is possibly the most interesting thing to ever happen to them. This is including the time where half the population died for five years.

[Abe Brown]: can someone PLEASE explain whats going on

[Zach Cooper]: honestly dude if any of us knew i think we would tell you

“Right,” Mr. Stark says. He stands up and lets himself be pushed a little further away by Peter. “I have to do other things right now—very important work things that pertain to the safety of the universe and whatnot—"

“Mr. Stark, you’re retired,” Peter says.

“And you’re in class,” Mr. Stark says. “But feel free to send me an email if you ever want a guest lecturer. Well, send Peter an email and I’ll respond through that. Probably.”

[Betty Brant]: does this mean peter was telling the truth about the internship?

[Sally Avril]: whos gonna tell flash

[Flash Thompson]: shut up. i can read

[Sue Lorman]: what are your current feeling, flash?

[Sue Lorman]: ….flash you there?

[Sue Lorman]: you know we can see you camera on right

[Sue Lorman]: ope he turned if off lmao

Mr. Cobbwell gaps, unable to come up with a proper response. Peter’s looking somewhere off-camera with desperation bleeding into his expression.

“Mrs. Potts,” Peter says. His voice pitched upwards, almost as if he were whining to Pepper Potts, which of course, Cindy thought of as ridiculous. After all, common sense dictates that no one would ever whine to the Pepper Potts.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” a voice says off-screen and, yeah, Cindy has seen enough of the #1 woman CEO’s interviews to be able to recognize her voice. “But you and I both know that it was only a matter of time before he made an appearance.”

Peter puts his head back in his hands and looks like the picture perfect definition of someone how has tried to fight with the logic of the universe and lost spectacularly. Ms. Potts steps into the view of the camera for the firt time, just as beautiful and as striking as every interview Cindy has managed to get her grubby hands on.

“Tony,” Ms. Potts says. “Why don’t you go get Morgan some breakfast?”

It’s not a suggestion. Mr. Stark doesn’t take it as a suggestion either. He gets up so quickly that it’s almost like he had never been there to begin with.

“I’ll sort this out,” Ms. Potts tells Peter. Then, to the rest of the class, “I’m incredibly sorry for my husband’s disruption. I’ll make sure he doesn’t interrupt further so you can finish your class.”

Class had ended almost ten minutes ago and almost everyone will be late for next period, but no one tells her this.

She leaves them after that—Peter still hasn’t removed his head from his hands, and he doesn’t look like he’s about to join the world of the living any time soon. Cindy takes this as the perfect opportunity to maybe-finally figure out the mystery that is Peter Parker and Tony Stark.

(Because as much as she loves being right—and, oh man, this is definitely going on her resume under ‘amateur detective'—this entire situation only leads to more questions than it does answers. Mainly how the fuck does Peter Parker even know Tony Stark? Why is he spending quarantine in that house? How does someone like Peter Parker even get there in the first place?)

[Cindy Moon]: alright which of you has peter’s contact info because We Need To Chat

[Peter Parker]: we really don’t

[Ned Leeds]: i have it

[Peter Parker]: ned.

[Peter Parker]: ned don’t you dare

[Sue Lorman]: guys this is the class zoom chat

[Sue Lorman]: everyone can see these messages

She almost forgets Mr. Cobbwell is still in the meeting, so you can imagine her surprise when she looks up to see him reading the Zoom chat.

“I think,” Mr. Cobbwell says. “That we will end the lesson there for today.”

[Cindy Moon]: sweet

[Cindy Moon]: hmu if you want to be added to this new

[Cindy Moon]: hmmmm

[Cindy Moon]: lets call it a study group that im making

Half the class joins within fifteen minutes of Cindy making it. She’s never been so proud in her life.

---

Cindy Moon has added Peter Parker to Explanation Station

[Peter Parker]: oh no

Peter Parker has left Explanation Station

[Cindy Moon]: no you dont

Cindy Moon has added Peter Parker to Explanation Station

[Peter Parker]: please dont do this to me

[Cindy Moon]: you brought this upon yourself

[Michelle Jones]: spill, parker

[Peter Parker]: mj you literally already know

[Michelle Jones]: i mean, yeah, but i really like watching you squirm

[Peter Parker]: why are you and i friends again

[Michelle Jones]: i don’t know, loser. why are we?

[Ned Leeds]: because peter thinks youre really cool

[Peter Parker]: ned i love you but i am actually going to toss you into the hudson river one of these days

[Ned Leeds]: :(

[Flash Thompson]: this is literally disgusting

[Michelle Jones]: Then Leave

[Peter Parker]: you know for a sec i completely forgot about this entire chat

[Peter Parker]: so im just gonna,,,,

Peter Parker has left Explanation Station

Cindy Moon has added Peter Parker to Explanation Station

[Cindy Moon]: bro.

Peter Parker has left Explanation Station

Cindy Moon has added Peter Parker to Explanation Station

[Cindy Moon]: PETER

Peter Parker has left Explanation Station

[Abe Brown]: honestly i don’t know why i expected anything different

---

The next day, Cindy is yet again the first person in the Zoom meeting. Yet again, Peter doesn’t show up until some five minutes or so after the 'tardy' bell rings.

Unfortunately for Peter, Mr. Cobbwell is also running late that day so he gets the full brunt of a curious class of twenty or so students who accidentally saw Iron Man on a Zoom call and not once got an answer as to why. Only about a third have their cameras turned on, likely because it’s seven-thirty in the morning and no one actually wants to be here but curiously is a dangerous thing. However, very, very few are muted. It’s as if they’re predicting the argument that is undoubtedly going to take place and are just waiting to jump in like the hungry pack of drama-feeding sharks that they all are.

Peter takes all of ten seconds to notice the silent tension. He yet again freezes on the spot. “…Where is Mr. Cobbwell?”

“He’s late,” Suzan says. “Like you are.”

“Oh, great. Uh, I guess I'll be taking my leave—"

“—Oh, no, Peter. You are going to sit your little white boy butt down and explain why Tony Stark and Pepper Potts are in your house,” Cindy pauses and then, “Or are you in their house? Do you even own a house? This is confusing.”

“Why would I own a house?” Peter says because of course that’s the part he gets fixated on. “I live right in the middle of Queens.”

“Well, obviously not right now,” Abe Brown says.

Peter bites his lip and goes silent. Cindy wishes they had class in person so she could wring the answers from him personally.

“Peter,” she says slowly. “The quicker we get an explanation, the quicker we stop harassing you.”

“You could just stop harassing me to begin with and forget about it,” Peter offers helpfully. Some of the class boos. Peter ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck.

“That's not happening and you know it.”

“I—ugh, fine,” Peter says. He doesn’t meet their eyes and instead chooses to fiddle with his notebooks in front of him. Cindy knows this is a lie before it even comes out of his mouth. “I’m, uh, I’m here for my internship?”

It comes out more of a question than an actual answer. He still doesn’t meet their eyes. Cindy sends him a look that’s so unimpressed that she can see the exact moment that Peter’s eyes flicker towards the 'leave Zoom meeting' button.

“Peter,” she says. “Stark Industries is currently shut down, like the rest of New York, because we are in quarantine. Also, internships don’t usually constitute internees going to their mentor's houses to attend online school. So if you are going to lie, at least make it believable.”

Peter gives her a look of utter horror and turns off his camera.

“Peter!” she hollers. “You can’t run forever! I know you can still hear me!”

“I knew it,” Suzan Yang says, quietly. There’s something like muffled laugher that comes from MJ’s computer.

Peter is saved by some ungodly force of nature because Mr. Cobbwell takes that exact moment to log into the meeting. Cindy puts on her perfected look of an innocent high schooler and greets her chemistry teacher at ass o’clock in the morning just as she does every day.

(If she sends a particularly vicious look towards the black square labeled 'Peter Parker' at the top of the screen, well, no one can really blame her.)

Peter never once turns his camera back on.

---

[Jason Ionello]: anyone want to take bets on why peter parker knows tony stark or

[Flash Thompson]: i still say its fake

[Betty Brant]: flash the only one youre fooling is yourself

[Betty Brant]: peter did say he had an internship

[Cindy Moon]: weve already debunked the internship theory

[Betty Brant]: hm. damn i got nothing then

[Suzan Yang]: i have a theory

[Cindy Moon]: you have said your theory many times in person and i honestly don’t want to think about it at all, ever, so im going to say debunked

[Suzan Yang]: your loss then

[Zach Cooper]: five bucks on the secret love child theory

[Brad Davis]: bet

[Kenneth Lim]: theres no waayyyy lmao could u even imagine

[Sue Lorman]: no, no kenneth shut up i want to hear more about this theory

[Zach Cooper]: its really quite simple and im sure you can understand it if you read the name ‘secret lovechild theory’

[Michelle Jones]: im screenshotting these to send to peter

[Cindy Moon]: oh right peter said you already knew the reason

[Cindy Moon]: mj spill challenge

[Michelle Jones]: no thanks its more fun watching you guys guess

[Cindy Moon]: hm alright i guess we need an answer from the source

Cindy Moon has added Peter Parker to Explanation Station

[Cindy Moon]: confirm or deny above theory

[Peter Parker]: oh my god

Peter Parker has left Explanation Station

[Abe Brown]: yet again i am not quite sure why i expected something different

---

Perhaps the most surprising outcome of the entire clusterfuck of a situation is that they do get something out of it. Of course, it’s not from Peter because Peter is like a steel trap and everything he says only leads to more questions and no answers. Cindy has been trying this for almost a week now. She knows how this goes.

She isn’t expecting to log on for first-period chemistry like always, only to see The Tony Stark already on the meeting.

She’s not early this time—she stopped that some three days ago when Peter made it incredibly clear that he wouldn’t show up early anymore either. Instead of wasting thirty minutes of precious sleep, Cindy decides to put her drive towards more obtainable goals like trying to get out of bed instead of trying to grill a person who doesn’t even show up half the time.

Mr. Cobbwell is already on too. He seems ecstatic for incredibly obvious reasons. Not many teachers can say that they had Tony Stark guest lecture, after all, even if it is just through Zoom.

He’s got a little label with 'Tony Stark' and everything. Cindy doesn’t know why she’s surprised that the previous CEO and Iron Man does, in fact, have a Zoom account.

“—I’m sure the student will enjoy whatever you have planned,” Mr. Cobbwell is saying. He checks the timer and startles. “Oh! We’re about ready to start. We’re missing a couple students, I think, so we might have a few that log on late, but you can start whenever you’re ready, Mr. Stark.”

Mr. Stark looks at his screen intensely. Then, he stands up from his kitchen table (the same one that Peter has been sitting at. Go figure) and says, “Hold on just a moment.”

Mr. Stark wanders off-camera just as there’s a crash in the background.

“Peter, you’re supposed to be in class,” Mr. Stark says. It’s muffled, almost impossible to understand, but Cindy’s listening in so intensely that she’s determined to understand every word. “C’mon, kid, Pepper is going to kill me if you skip.”

“I’m not skipping! I’m just—I’m sick! I’m so sick, Mr. Stark,” Peter’s voice comes through. It’s even more muffled than Mr. Stark’s is. “I’m sorry but I don’t think I can make class today. I’m gonna throw up or something. I’ll just be going back up to my room—"

There’s a sigh. Mr. Stark wanders back into camera view and addresses Mr. Cobbwell and the entire class, “Yeah, I’m going to need another moment. Teenagers and all that. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course, of course,” Mr. Cobbwell rushes to assure. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thanks,” Mr. Stark says. He turns off his camera and mutes his microphone.

It doesn’t take long—Cindy’s not counting the time despite being incredibly invested. However, Peter does log on almost five minutes after the bell should’ve sounded looking distinctly not-sick and incredibly disgruntled. He shoots someone off-screen a look just as Mr. Stark turns his own account’s camera and microphone back on.

“Now then,” Mr. Stark says. “How about we start this lovely little lesson? High school chemistry is one of my favorite subjects, after all."

(Cindy can’t be certain because Peter’s muted, but she’s pretty sure that he gives a little groan when he buries his face in his hands and looks like death personally came to pick him up.)

The lecture starts. Unfortunately for Cindy and the rest of the class, chemistry isn’t suddenly exciting even when you have a superhero to teach it. It’s still seven-thirty in the morning, they’re still playing the part of innocent Zoom University students, and chemistry itself just really sucks, if she’s completely honest.

Time passes. The class is about to end. Cindy does manage to learn something even if that something is the fact Peter is not below a couple backhanded comments directed at The Tony Stark. She can’t hear them very well because Peter’s mic is muted but, y’know, Tony Stark is sitting right next to him and his mic definitely isn’t muted so she gets to hear a couple of gems with the rest of the class. That alone makes this entire thing worth it.

“I would appreciate it if you would all keep this on the down low,” Mr. Stark says right after he had finished his guest lecture on the applications of modern chemistry. It’s possibly the most excited Cindy has seen Peter all week. “PR and all that. I’m sure Pepper could explain more if you wanted her to.”

“Mr. Cobbwell, are we done?” Peter says suddenly. “I have another class to get to and I’m sure Mr. Stark is really incredibly busy—”

“I do have a toddler now,” Mr. Stark says with a nod. “And an ungrateful teenager, apparently.”

Peter very distinctly ignores that. “—I’m not sure I’ll have enough time to make it to my next class if I don’t leave now. So can I please leave?”

Mr. Cobbwell gives him a look but Peter doesn’t back down. Eventually, he says, “Alright. Everyone say thank you to Mr. Stark for so generously spending his morning being here with us—”

A couple students unmute just to say “Thank you, Mr. Stark,” while even more post thank yous in the chat. Mr. Stark gives them an award winning Iron Man smile and, yeah, he definitely just gave them finger guns as well. Cindy’s not quite sure if that makes him cooler or not, honestly.

“—And with that, class dismissed,” Mr. Cobbwell finishes.

Peter is the first one to leave the meeting.

---

Cindy Moon has added Peter Parker to Explanation Station

[Peter Parker]: cindy its almost 3am

Peter Parker has left Explanation Station

Cindy Moon has added Peter Parker to Explanation Station

[Peter Parker]: It Is Almost Three In The Morning

[Cindy Moon]: throw us a bone, peter

[Cindy Moon]: peter???

[Cindy Moon]: peter you there???

[Peter Parker]: listen.

[Peter Parker]: yes, okay, i know mr stark

[Peter Parker]: and he promised to stay out of my calls originally so No One Else Would Know This but you all saw how well that went

[Kenneth Lim]: guys its three am

[Sue Lorman]: no shut up peters about to let something slip something i can feel it

[Jason Ionello]: oh my god why is my phone going off at 3am

[Zach Cooper]: everyone shut up let peter type!!!!

[Peter Parker]: you guys are really invested in this huh

[Zach Cooper]: dude u know The Tony Stark

[Peter Parker]: i guess that’s fair

[Peter Parker]: mr stark heard that he was caught on video the other day and. well.

[Peter Parker]: he decided to make it worse

[Sue Lorman]: you mean better

[Peter Parker]: no i definitely mean worse

[Peter Parker]: im pretty sure hes making you sign NDAs though

[Cindy Moon]: hes making us do what

[Sue Lorman]: what

[Jason Ionello]: oh damn

[Zach Cooper]: can someone tell me what an NDA is

[Peter Parker]: i mean. he’ll pay for your college

[Cindy Moon]: nm my lips are sealed

[Jason Ionello]: same

[Betty Brant]: yeah u know what. thats fair

[Peter Parker]: ok! cool now that’s all sorted out

[Peter Parker]: uhhhhhhhhhhh

Peter Parker has left Explanation Station

---

Just a day later, a mysterious envelope shows up at her door with a return address already stamped. Cindy wishes she could say she’s surprised at the bolded 'Non-Disclosure Agreement' stamped at that top but, really, that would be a lie.

She does end up reading through the entire thing, mostly because she has a big fat tendency to run her mouth and doesn’t really want to get sued by a man who could buy a team of lawyers just to have them over for breakfast. Seeing the very eloquently written ‘if you keep your mouth shut, we’ll pay for your entire college and graduate program if you want’ clause is very nice to read.

She signs it without hesitation.

Mr. Stark doesn’t really make many more appearances after that, mostly because quarantine comes to an end and they’re all back in normal school by the end of the month. When she sees Peter Parker in person for the first time, surrounded by both MJ and Ned, they only meet eyes for a second before Peter is hurriedly packing up his backs and heading to his next class.

They don’t say anything about what happened during those quarantine weeks. In fact, no one does.

Cindy doesn’t really ever get an answer as to why Peter Parker is at Tony Stark’s house, of all places. She doesn’t ever really get an answer to why Peter Parker knows Tony Stark in the first place. There are theories, of course, but there had been theories long before The Reveal happened and there will be theories long after. It’s just yet another thing to add to the mystery that is Peter Parker.

However, with the prospect of a fully paid college tuition and the many hours of engineering and business tutoring from Mr. Tony Stark and Mrs. Pepper Potts themselves, she finds that she doesn’t quite mind letting sleeping dogs lie. And, yeah, Cindy Moon is pretty sure she knows what weird looks like now.

#my fics #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fics #spider-man #marvel

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helpinghanikan · 4 years

Text

Carol Danvers A-Z

NSFW A-Z head-cannons

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

She’s like a kitten who just found a scratching post. Sliding up against your back, scratching and kneading without rhyme or reason. Not even your hair was safe; nuzzling her nose into your hair and humming deeply.

With absolute control over her powers her hands are warm, just below hot. It’s like a hot stone massage that can press harder and sharper into areas. Really anywhere that Carol can reach, is warm.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you: your ears. She’s a nuzzler. At any given chance she’ll lean into your neck, nipping under your ears before lightly biting at a lobe. Even sitting side by side with her arm over you shoulders she toys without thinking. Lightly running over the shell of your ear, tucking hair behind it.

On herself: her breasts. They’re an assent constantly strapped or tied down for missions and traveling. Having just a second without a restraint, or even a regular bra, is one of the small treasures in her life. Your hands cupping them, massaging them, even holding them while in sleep was an entire experience all together.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

The first time you were together Carol almost burned you alive. You could feel her heat growing and growing during the entire thing. It was watching a kaleidoscope being created right before your eyes.

This is the closest you’ll ever get to seeing a star close up. Her throwing back with a loose open mouth. Blonde hair now a mix of red, blue and yellow filling the dark room with light. It was so beautiful that you didn’t notice your hands were red and starting to blister.

Her face snapped back to reality after reaching her peak. The colors disappearing like they were never there to begin with. In her defense, it had been awhile.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Although she hasn’t needed one for a while; but the idea of making love (not fucking, making love) in the pilot’s seat of an old school jet has always been on the top list.

If it were regular fucking then it would have just been revenge on those who looked down her before. But gong slow, making it last, in that jet would be a connection between her past and present. Coming together in your beautiful groans and kisses.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

For the last several years Carol’s experience came from the species on Hala. The Alien species and humans are close enough that her experience could be transferred onto you. Although there have been times when she would forget you were human. Her fingers becoming little spears inside of you.

F = Favorite Position

Her strength is something you should never question, but at first glance this is not the case. She likes having you above her. No matter how many times she encourages you up, there is a little game of seduction she has to do. It was part of the fun from being with you, like getting through the wrapping of a present.

“Come here, come here, baby. I want you; I want you here.” She whispers, a hand holding yours while the other lightly patted her thighs. Or she’d pull back until she lying flat, gently pulling you forward.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

There’s a whole other side of Carol that comes out when alone with you. The smiley, giggly side that rubs your noses together after kissing. Tickling you when there was a lull and even lifting your weight up and over her shoulder.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

All of her hair is as blonde as the top of her head. As she usually wears pants (even shorts are a rarity) trimming down there has never been a focus. Only when it seems to get in the way does she bother with it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

When the tickling and giggling is over Carol looks down at you. A gentle hand running through your hair, and a slight smile on her face. These quiet, passionate moments last only seconds before continuing on. Jokingly biting your neck or taking you into a deep kiss.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Finishing herself off is the safer option. Although Carol can mostly control her powers when cumming there’s still a danger to you. Like holding the bottom of burning paper, feeling the fire getting closer and closer until it burns.

That being said, she’d rather be with you. Just having to use half of her brain to control the powers, while the other is focused on you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

A little stroll through tags gave you this idea. Stepping up behind Carol at a desk. Wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her cheek. She leans back into you without thinking, a hand coming up to caress your head.

“Hey, Mommy,” You whispered in her ear.

At first she had laughed it off. But it had stuck with her after that. The next time she was pressed against your back, hands just happening to hold your breasts, she whispered in your ear. “Will you be good for Mommy?”

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

The best location was anywhere that had sturdy walls and no obstructions. More than once someone saw the lights in the windows and became curious. Only to be blinded by the hateful glare of a protective woman.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Flying, whether in a ship or from her own powers, nothing gets her going like the skies. The feeling of her stomach dropping with gravity, and the almost high she gets when reaching a limit normal humans could never.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Threesomes. So many jokes have been made by douches about “joining you ladies” that it’s put a poor taste in her mouth.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Out of fear for your safety she has only gone down on you.

As her last few partners were alien there have been awkward moments. Watching down between your legs while she seems to try her best. Only for the both of you to start laughing when she realizes. “Right, you don’t have that.” She says, finding the right area, turning the laughs into almost cries of pleasure.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

When focused on you she goes slowly. Toying and teasing you with a kind of vigor that can only be made by her one minded goal of your pleasure.

When focused on herself it’s always after your done. Going quickly, almost too fast, to reach a point that send her head back and hair everywhere. Her groans coming from a place of pleasure and frustration as she couldn’t full let go.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Usually happening after she flies, a battle or otherwise. Although she would prefer to have proper sex a firm grip on your hand, and the nearest dark area in the hanger, would have to do.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Fucking Captain Marvel is a risk all on its own. But she’s always willing to mix it up a little. Most of the experimenting was something she could do with her own hands. Holding you down or lifting you right off her feet without a second thought or blink.

When you suggest something she sits back and smiles that smile. As if challenging you to be the restrainer in the relationship. But she will let you try. Wiggling her fingers when you handcuffed her hands to the bed. The metal melting as she giggled at your expression.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

She has the strength and stamina to last for literal hours. Although she can only last one round herself before her eyes start to droop she can handle herself. Long enough to make sure that you don’t.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Although her fingers are the first choice, a small red vibrator has been added to your lovemaking. Restraints were sometimes used but they usually end up breaking. Carol wanting to show off her strength on the poor, fragile, fuzzy handcuffs.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Both the best and worst thing you’ve ever done was teach Carol about texting. At first it was just a way to communicate, now it was an almost constant stream of texts about what Carol wants to (and will) do to you.

When it came down to the deed she was just as bad. Touching and toying with you before any clothes were removed. It’s only you start to beg that she goes any further.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

A select few are privileged enough to hear the sounds Carol makes in the moment. Surprisingly high-pitched sounds that are brought out with the heat her body exudes.

Sometimes her lips are cut or swollen from biting down on them. This was how you could get revenge for the teasing. Just lightly bite your own lip while making eye-contact and she suppresses a smile, shaking her head away from you.

W = Wild Card (Get a random head-canon for the character of your choice)

Jealousy is something that she has to work on. Protection is in her nature, and aggressive protection has been pounded into her head from year and years of training a living.

Men or women are all a threat to her. Whether it’s an arm around your shoulders or someone pressing against you to reach something (obviously they had to completely press their hips into yours, obviously) there’s a low burn within her.

Although this has saved you from several (reaching guy has learned to reach) it has also become a slight annoyance. What’s worse than a white knight? A white knight that you’re dating.

X = X-Ray

When the focus is almost entirely on you there’s little chance when that you get to touch her. When you do she’s always warm and receptive to your touches. Sometimes covering her mouth like a high school girl and looking away from you.

It’s the few times you can feel powerful against her. Something that she is sure to take back by tenfold.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Unless there was a battle or a particularly exciting flight she isn’t always on the lookout for open moments. She’s a busy woman, getting it on once every few days is good enough for her.

It’s only when she’s away from you for a long amount of time that her drive is pushed into high gear. Able to keep it cool until she gets you alone.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She goes down like a rock after finishing. From suppressing her powers, being overwhelmed from feeling, and just the sex itself is like a sedative right to her core.

She lays down next to you. Blinking slowly as she tries to stay awake long enough to make sure you’re good. She tries to stay awake longer then you, but always fails.

#reader insert #Carol Danvers #carol danvers x reader #A-Z #A-Z headcannons #carol danvers imagine #captain marvel imagine #captain marvel #Carol needs more love

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shadowess · 3 years

Text

It’s Alright It’s Ok

I jump out of my bones as my father's angry yell erupts from the house like a slamming door. Instantly my heart feels the frost of fear glaze over the surface of my beating organ. Swallowing thickly I get off my bed and hide my computer under my bedsheets, closing it's lid to hide it's light. Silently slipping out of my bedroom I move into the hallway and walk past the laundry basket, heading into the kitchen where my parents argue, the tension that has been building for two weeks finally bursting open like a damn. I would give it a day, maybe two, before their bedroom door be locked while my father hurt my mother. Then it would take either myself or my sister bursting into tears to get them to stop fighting for another few months. Swallowing thickly, I kept my eyes down as I moved into the battle zone, Shadow, my cat, rubbed around my legs, demanding biscuits. He didn't care about the chaos, he was probably use to it by now. Opening the cabinet under the sink I got his food out as my father and mother screamed at each other.

"Shut up Carol!" The man yelled, his eyes bulging and veins pulsing in his neck. He was in my mother's face, screaming at her. The woman who had for ages from my childhood had mostly cried and screamed at this man to get off her, had began to fight back. She did that often. It only increased the fighting.

"You Shut Up!" She screamed back. I patted Shadow's back as he ate. He was a big black cat. Strong and in his youth. Going to the fridge I took a certain of milk and poured myself a glass, downing it quickly. The sound of the tv came from the lounge room. Going into the room I looked at my little sister who was watching one of my favorite cartoons. Kid vs Kat. Managing a smile, I took my place beside her. I always rooted for the cat. I don't know why, perhaps I just loved cats. Plus I could relate the mischievous chaoticness of the character. Or at least that's how I wanted to be. My mother's form entered the room just as the boy and the alien cat jumped into a cloud of dust meant to depict fighting.

"Ingrid, have you done your homework?" I sighed; couldn't she see I was trying to watch something?

"Yeah." I lied. I should have said I didn't have homework.

"Ok, well, let me have a look?" Although I appreciated my mother's involvement in school, as anyone who was anyone knew that my autistic brain couldn't understand anything the teachers gave me on paper. I also wished she wasn't as involved. I just wanted some space. I was sick of homework.

Begrudgingly I got up and went to my room, dragging my books out of my school bag and dumping them on the desk. I went and got a slice of left over pizza from the fridge and poured myself a cup of coke to try and calm my racing heart.

"Ingrid you have homework. Why did you lie?" I rolled my eyes, why did she think? I wished I had headphones like all the other kids at school. I just wanted to shut her out as she started to lecture me. Casting a blank wall around my brain I sat down at the table and started on the maths homework. My worst subject. Contrary to popular belief depicted in movies, not all autistic people are good at maths. I myself am a better at English than this. I had finished a six inch novel in a week. And I was the best story writer in class. But this doesn't matter much to the adults.

After being left alone to my own devices, I sat and stared at the first math question for about ten minutes before attempting to answer it. I know I am highly likely getting the answer wrong, but I just want to finish this and escape to my room. I wanna do this without my parents coming to help. Before I know it, it's seven in the evening. I've by now attracted the attention of my father who started by trying to help, has now ended up yelling after I have proved once again useless at math.

"Are you stupid!" he screamed at me as I sat with unwavering tenseness, staring at the page and refusing to move my gaze from the sheet. My chest was shaking. There was no other way to describe it. Outwards, I was calm. But inside my chest shook like a autumn leaf. I could feel everything building up inside me. I tried to level myself. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't start crying. I repeated in my head.

"For God's Sake Ingrid! This is easy stuff! A Year 1 could do this!" He hollered and slapped my arm with a ruler. I didn't so much as flinch. I didn't want to give him that satisfaction.

"Do you even go to school!!??" I felt the first hiccup as I clenched my eyes shut and my sobs burst from my chest.

"Oh, great. Now your gonna cry." He muttered seethingly as though my melt down was a inconvenience. Mother was already serving out dinner wordlessly. This was a regular occurrence in our house. Homework that should only take five minutes, took three hours. Trying desperately to numb myself I packed up my homework to continue with tomorrow and wiped my eyes on my sleeve, trying to stop crying so I could eat dinner.

It's four in the morning when I sneak out of the house, dressed in my black hoody and trousers and my school bag on my shoulders as I lock the door behind me, take a breath, and take off running down the street. My runners pound on the side walk as I breath in the cold air of the early spring chill. I need this. Cold air, freshness, darkness just before the sun rises. Cars that pass through the street don't bother with the site of a teen girl running through the streetlights as though she were being chased. Even when my legs ache and I feel like my lungs are about to burst I don't stop. The sun's rays are barely kissing the trees by the time I reach the cultural center of my town. My throat crack a bit as a I swallow, having been dried out from my panting breaths. Rubbing sweat off my forehead I straighten up and stare at the sky. For a moment I want to disappear into the purple abyss above me. That'd be nice. Perhaps it'd be like in my stories. Just.... A life worth living perhaps. That'd be nice.

"Language!!" comes a shrieking yell from across the street. Snapping back to reality I look over to the collection of shops opening for the morning. I smile, feeling a familiar sense of warmness fill my numbed core as Bad is laughed at by his best friend, Skeppy, as the demon boy opens the shop door, peering at me with friendly white eyes. "Marr?" he calls. My smile softens as he uses my preferred name. I approach, shoving my hands into my pockets as a show of nonchalance. "Hey Bad." I raise a brow with amusement. Though he isn't fooled. He never is. I find myself pulled into a hug before I can even protest. Closing my eyes I hug him back, savoring the physical contact. That is until there is a photo snap and the blue haired boy snaps a picture. I frown and pull away.

"Skeppy! Delete that right now." I grumble, folding my arms with a frown.

"Nah. I think I'll add a few heart emojis." He teases as I fluster and puff up my cheeks. The demon beside me frowns, though his smile shows, he can never be mad at his friend. Rolling his white orbs he looks down at me gently.

"Breakfast. On the house." Bad and Skeppy were the only people I trusted. They didn't ask questions. Or offer to call anyone. They just let me hang out with them before work hours if I didn't want to be at home.

Nodding my head, I entered the café and sat down in a booth. Bad squeezed my shoulder and started the coffee brewer as Skeppy set up the tables and chairs for the day. Folding my arms to keep my fingers warm after I had pulled some of my hair out of my hood, I looked up slightly. Trying to think of a good way to start conversation.

"Did you guys sleep ok?" is it alright to ask that to people you don't live with?

Our words went back and forth in friendly small talk. Occasionally Skeppy would swear and get playfully told off by his friend. I would just laugh. Everyone in life is super serious. So it feels nice sometimes to just be around two goofs. I was given an expresso and hot pie. I savored the warm gravy taste, I wasn't even stressed but it was hard to not scoff it. A few people were starting to come in now. People on their way to work, stopping for a coffee and picking up take away. I wondered if it was nice. Living in a steady sense of movement. Where everything was the same and you knew what to do. Instead of struggling to hold together a toothpick structure simply cause nothing makes sense. I've missed opportunities for jobs simply because they've been offered while I was in the middle of a shut down. Same goes for friendships, or dates with boys, because I will just stare at them with a dumb panicked expression for a good five minutes while I try and figure out how to respond. In the end I am mistook for either rude or stupid. I am neither—Well ok I can be rude sometimes. But I'm definitely not stupid.

Feeling my anxiety levels raise I scull the rest of my coffee. Bad's tail stands on end in alarm as steam comes out of my mouth. "Careful you Muffinhead! You'll burn your tongue!" I shrugged with a smirking grin. "Hey look. I'm a dragon." I blow more steam out of my mouth. Skeppy busts up laughing from the kitchen as the demon sighs, rolling his eyes he ruffles my head. "Muffinhead." He mutters with a smirk. I hold up the cup. "Re-fill?" my hoody sleeve falls down slightly and the movement. Bad's smile slips and his eyes widen. "Holy shit what happened to your arm?" Skeppy chokes on a cackle. "Bad!?" finding it hysterical that the normally passive demon actually swore. I blinked and checked over my arm briefly, ah. Right. Pulling my sleeve down to cover the red marks from the ruler I shrugged. "Nothing. I'm fine." The demon stares for a moment before sighing in defeat. "At least let me get you some ice." Seeing the opportunity, I snicker, "But it's freezing!" Bad rolls his eyes, "For your arm, you Muffinhead." I poked out my tongue playfully.

With a cloth full of ice resting on my arm and a fresh cup of steaming coffee in front of me, I watch the pair work. Skeppy's diamonds are starting to sprout out of his arm. I do wonder how that doesn't hurt. But I'm just glad I'm not that kind of hybrid. Not that I'm any kind of hybrid. Considering how much the world changed after the Rifting, it's surprising that I'm not physically different as I am mentally. Even my sister is a Hybrid, despite my parents being human. She's a dog, by the fur coloring I'd say she's a kelpie. A car pulls up in the parking lot. It looks old, but the good kind of old. Kind of vintage, but not fancy. Just old. Through the windscreen three boys fight and seem to be bickering amongst each other. A tired looking man gets out. I recognize him. That's Philza, he shows up at school every now and then whenever Techno gets into a fight, or Tommy's pranks go horribly wrong, or Wilbur sasses out the teacher one to many times. He's a hybrid, either that or an angel. It's hard to tell. But he enters the coffee shop and walks to the counter. Huge black wings folded against his back.

"Bad, morning." He greet cheerfully and tips his weird stripped hat he always wears. I never liked that hat. It made me dizzy. He reads out a bunch of orders from a piece of paper, something about one flat-white, a mocha, a caramel latte, and a decaf frappe for Tommy. Bad nods his head and asks Skeppy to handle the order. I frown and tilt my head a bit. The strangely serious demon comes out from behind the counter and takes Philza by the arm, talking softly with him. I blink in surprise when they both look subtly towards me. I look down at the welt on my arm, pulling down the sleeve I bring my hand to my mouth and start to chew on my thumb knuckle. It seems I have over estimated the level of trust I should have given Bad. Rocking back and forth a bit I pick up my coffee cup to down it in one go. Don't trust grown ups. I'm about to pull my hood up when Philza comes over to my table, smiling down at me softly. I stare up at him with confusion. Fiddling with my fingers nervously.

"Hello, your Marr, right?" He raises a brow, his green eyes glinting with humor. My face heats up, and I avoid his eyes. "Uh.. yeah.. I think so..." he chuckles at this and puts his hand on the chair on the other side of the table. "Can I sit hear?" I blink in surprise, teachers and my parents never asked permission before they did things. Atleast my mum never did when she went through my school bag. Nor my did my dad when he turned down the music on my computer. I nod my head, continuing to rock back and forth. Sitting down he took off his hat, putting it in his lap. I stared at his blond hair that hung down to his shoulders. A crooked smile came upon his face, before it faded slowly. "Are you ok?" I started to scratch my arm. "I'm fine." This was my default response to most questions. He nodded his head as if this was a appropriate answer, he didn't pry. "How do you plan on getting to school, do you take a bus?" I shake my head, shrugging. I normally walk. Which is why I'm always late. He chuckles and takes his hat, putting it back on. "Well mate, if you'd like I can give you a ride, no strings." He winks good-naturedly. I look down, thinking for a bit. I don't trust strangers, even people with kids my age are dangerous. I look at Bad, chewing my lip. The demon smiles warmly and nods. Ok, I guess I'll give it a shot. I nod, "Yeah.. ok."

The hybrid gets to his feet quickly, "Great!" just in time for his order to be declared ready. With crow like laugh he takes the tray. "Welp, come on! The boys'll kill each other otherwise." he chuckles and heads out the door. After a moment of hesitation I follow him. The boys seem surprised when they spot me. Through a open window Philza hands the tray to Techno, a piglin hyrbid. I try not to stare at his tusks, it's rude. "Wilbur scoot over." Philza instructs his eldest son, opening the door for me. Tommy and his brother exchange a look before Wilbur undoes his seatbelt of shuffle over. I feel awkward as I get in, doing up my seatbelt and doing my best to avoid looking at the boys. As Philza turns on the engine there is a awkward, surprised silence. Until there isn't. "Who's the woman!?" Tommy inquires loudly. I wince.

#dream smp #dadza minecraft #wilbur soot #tommy innit

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