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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 1 month

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Breaking the Class Ceiling Chapter 7-FINAL

This is set in early 1900s U.S.A., during the Edwardian era with some style changes into the upcoming Art Nouveau period. I've changed history a bit for this. Pretending that America didn't have a full Civil War and trying to create a more optimistic outcome for the purposes of the story. I've also tried to research what the rules for society/socializing were back then, and tweaked some of them.

Warnings for upcoming chapters: minor character death, some sexual harassment/assault (but nothing too graphic or traumatic), smut

They got another month with George before one morning he wasn’t found in his room by the nurse. She frantically told you and you ran to the only place you knew he’d be with Bucky hot on your heels. Sitting in the middle of the greenhouse in his wheelchair was George, his head slumped back against the seat, his eyes closed in everlasting sleep. Amir was sitting with him, holding his hand and reciting a prayer. When you all ran in he looked up with tears, shaking his head.

"He wanted to see them one last time,” he said, gesturing towards the plants. “It was peaceful.”

Bucky broke in that moment, falling to his knees as sobs wracked his body.

The funeral was beautiful and packed, just like when Winifred had passed. The community came to pay their respects and offer condolences. Bucky was numb, giving polite yet fake smiles and shaking hundreds of hands. You were trying to be strong for him, knowing his pain, and knowing that he needed the support you didn’t have when your parents died.

After George was buried next to Winifred and you were able to get Bucky back home he silently went to your room. You followed him, keeping yourself a few steps away but making sure he knew you were there. As he entered the room he began to strip from his funeral attire, carefully placing everything on the hangers and in drawers. When he was in his underwear he sat on the bed and stared at the wall. You quickly got yourself out of your clothes and into your nightgown, crawling across the bed so you could embrace him from behind. He didn’t react at first. You slowly began kissing along his back, neck and shoulders, massaging his muscles and trying to release the built up tension he’d been experiencing for the last two months. As you scratched your nails up into his hair he shivered, seeming to come back to himself.

"Y/N,” he whispered.

You kissed his neck again, “Yes my darling, I’m here.”

"Help me,” he whimpered, his shoulders sagging.

"I’m here Buck, what do you need?” You continued rubbing his shoulders.

"Help me feel something else,” he cried. “I just can’t keep feeling this. It feels like it’s eating me alive.”

You crawled around to his front, straddling his lap and cupping his face in your hands. You wiped his tears, although it was no use as he continued to cry. You massaged his temples and stretched and pulled at different parts of his face, smoothing out the creases that seemed deeper now than they were a few months ago. He sighed as you eased the tension in his face, his mouth dropping open. As you scratched your nails down his scalp and his hair you leaned in and kissed the side of his mouth like you used to tease him during your courtship. Something about that action snapped him out of his stupor and suddenly he was twisting around, pushing you onto your back on the bed, his lips smashing against yours.

This wasn’t your first time together and yet it felt like it was somehow. His hands reverently caressing every dip and rise in your body like he was memorizing it, his kisses getting more fervent and passionate as he tried to drown his grief in his lust.

As he worked you both up until you were both moaning and gasping for air, ridding you both from your clothing, he lined himself with your entrance and slowly pushed into you, his eyes focused on how you took him in inch by inch. You whimpered at the agonizing pace, wishing him to go faster or harder, but that wasn’t what he wanted or needed right now. He thrust into you deeply, his hands roughly switching from your breasts to hiking up your legs to kneading the cheeks of your ass. As he picked up the pace you whined, your fingers gouging into his back as you felt yourself tightening around him. He was suddenly desperate, angling a new position and pounding into you without warning as he dropped to his elbow above you, hooking that forearm under your neck and pressing his forehead to yours as your breaths intermingled, his mouth huffing out against your cheek. You could only try to remember to breathe as he took what he needed from you. Your hand went to the one wrapped around your shoulders under your neck, interlocking your fingers with his fingers as your other hand pulled the hair at the back of his neck, giving it a scratch to relieve the pressure then pulling again.

The sensations were all too much as your moans got louder and more high pitched. Bucky reached his free hand down to your pussy and began rubbing your clit with abandon, flicking it periodically as he thrust harder, slamming into you. The string that had wound tight in your lower abdomen suddenly snapped, making you scream as you came around him, your intertwined hands squeezing until you were white knuckled. Bucky began grunting and letting out a short whimper on each thrust, his face scrunched up in effort until his orgasm ripped through his veins, your name a prayer on his lips, spilling all he had into you.

As you both calmed down, you released your hand from his and lightly rubbed his back as you panted. “I love you Bucky,” you began whispering to him, not even fully aware of what you were saying. “I love you, darling. Love you so much. He was a good man, and gave me a good man. We’ll name our first son George just for him. You sweet man, my Bucky, my darling…darling…”

“I love you,” he answered back, his ocean colored eyes piercing into your soul. “My pretty doll, my everything.”

***

3 years later

The boat slowly sloshed to the side as it was pulled in. The river Seine was calm as you, Bucky and your children hopped off the boat, deck hands helping you not fall in as it docked. Little George tried to toddle off as you straightened out your dress.

“Georgie! You stop right there, young man!” you called out, jogging forward to catch his hand.

Georgie giggled as he tried to run faster on his little legs, unable to get far as he fell back on his behind. You reached him and helped him up, holding on to his tiny hand firmly. Bucky was loading your daughter, Florence, into the pram after it was taken off the boat. She was a dream baby while you traveled, fully content as trains barreled down tracks and boat horns blared. Bucky tucked her in a blanket and joined you down the ramp.

“Our runaway is ready for the Eiffel tower, I see,” he chuckled as Georgie pulled on your hand.

“Yes,” you sighed, “take your son,” you steered Georgie over to Bucky as you took hold of the pram. Somehow Bucky had won the lottery, both of the children looking like carbon copies of him with small contributions from your genes. Dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, dimpled chins and wide easy smiles. As much as you gave Bucky grief about it, you secretly loved that they looked just like him. You checked on Florence, seeing that she finally woke up.

“Oh hello, my little Flo,” you sang at her, making the baby smile and scrunch her face as she stretched. “I wish I could sleep like you do,” you teased her, tickling her cheek with your finger.

“Come ladies, I wanna see this big needle,” Bucky joked, the French deck hands behind him sneering at his irreverence. You smacked his arm as you approached him, looking back and apologizing in French.

“Bucky!” you admonished, giving him a harsh look. “Don’t insult the French in front of the French. They’re not always very nice, even to tourists,” you admonished him.

Bucky looked sheepishly at the men behind him, giving them a sorry gesture and waving. “For such a beautiful place it sure has…interesting people,” he mumbled back, picking up Georgie and walking away briskly.

The Eiffel tower was a hit with Bucky as he stared up at it in wonder. You had arranged for a lunch to be served nearby, then afterwards took a trolley to the Louvre. Georgie had fallen asleep and Bucky swapped Flo out of the pram and carried her as Georgie slept in it, his feet sticking out of the sides as they walked through, admiring the art and the sculptures. Flo was babbling quietly as you walked, a tour guide describing what each piece was and where it came from. When you all came upon the Winged Victory you cried, Bucky not quite understanding why but appreciating that it was a highly unique statue.

You had been taking your family on a world tour similar to what you had done after your parents died. You wanted to share the special places you’d been with Bucky, especially since he had not been able to travel before. He loved every minute of it, even while traveling with children. There had been the option to leave them at home with the nanny but you couldn’t bear to leave Flo behind while she was still so young, so you brought the nanny and some more trusted staff to help while also getting a chance to see the world themselves. The children didn’t seem to know or particularly care what was going on, just that they were along for the ride.

After an eventful day you all made it back to the hotel, shedding the layers of clothing and getting comfortable for the night. As the children fell asleep in one room, you and Bucky headed to the next and settled down.

Bucky sat back against the headboard of the large bed, spreading his legs and beckoning you to sit between them. You huffed a laugh as you crawled up and twisted yourself into a comfortable position in front of him, his arms winding around you when you leaned back against him. Outside the window was a view of the Eiffel tower as the sun sank below the horizon.

“What a great day,” Bucky mused, his eyes drooping and his hands mindlessly running up and down your stomach and chest, periodically squeezing your breast.

“Don’t start, Buck,” you teased, swatting his hands.

“I’m not, I’m not,” he yawned, his legs stretching next to you. “Just enjoying my pretty doll.”

“Sure, and we haven’t had two children within 3 years,” you deadpanned, looking up at him with an unimpressed look. Bucky snorted at your face, covering his laugh so as not to wake the children.

“Well it’s not my fault you’re delectable, pretty doll,” he said, tickling your sides. You squeaked and squirmed, pushing his hands away. He manhandled you until you were straddling his lap. “Besides, you make us such pretty babies.”

“Yeah because they come out looking like you!”

He smiled proudly, pushing your hair back and fixing your robe. He gazed at you for a few moments, making you tilt your head sideways.

“What’s on your mind, my darling?” you asked.

Bucky’s smile softened, his tired eyes drooping again as you scratched his beard. “I’m thinking of how wonderful my life has become since I met you. What you’ve given me, done for me, how you’ve loved me. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I’d do it a thousand times over again if it meant having you as mine forever.”

You smiled back at him, your fingers caressing his face. “My darling, my Bucky,” you whispered, “you deserve it all. My sweet, kind, funny, brave, good, loving husband,” you praised him.

“Thank you,” he said as he leaned in and kissed next to your mouth.

“Thank you,” you said, fully kissing his lips.

The end

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #smut

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deluweil · 3 years

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Re-watching 4x05, there were some things said in Maddie’s and Buck’s conversation in the beginning and then when kid Buck falls off the bike (by Margaret) that made me go and look for the risks in donating bone marrow.

Remember that Daniel died the first year after Buck was born, meaning that Evan was a baby when they used him as a donor.

So I pulled a Buck and went to research online: (According to healthline.com)

Anyone between 18 and 60 years old can register to be a donor.

People between 18 and 44 tend to produce more and higher quality cells than older individuals. Doctors choose donors in the 18 to 44 age group more than 95 percent of the time, according to Be The Match, a national marrow donor program.

You’ll need to provide a tissue sample. This is obtained by swabbing the inside of your cheek. You must also sign a consent form.

Besides donating your bone marrow, you’re donating your time. To be accepted, you’ll need to provide additional blood tests and have a physical examination. The total time commitment for the donation process is estimated to be 20 to 30 hours over four to six weeks

The most serious risks have to do with anesthesia:

People who fall into those categories may have an increased risk for:

postoperative confusion

pneumonia

stroke

heart attack

About 2.4 percent of donors have a serious complication from anesthesia or damage to bone, nerve, or muscle, according to Be The Match.

You’ll only lose a small amount of bone marrow, so it won’t weaken your own immune system. Your body will replace it within six weeks. - But this talks about adults doing the process, not a newborn, barely formed baby.

Some potential side effects from general anesthesia are:

sore throat due to the breathing tube

mild nausea

vomiting

Regional anesthesia can cause headache and a temporary drop in blood pressure.

Some side effects of marrow donation include:

bruising at the incision site

soreness and stiffness where the marrow was harvested

achiness or pain in the hip or back

trouble walking for a few days due to pain or stiffness

You might also feel fatigued for a few weeks. That should resolve as your body replaces the marrow.

While recovering, here are a few ways to ease common side effects:

Lightheadedness. Rise from a lying down or seated position slowly. Take things easy for a while.

Sleep disturbances. Eat smaller, lighter meals. Rest and go to bed earlier until you feel fully recovered.

Swelling at the surgery site. Avoid heavy lifting and strenuous activity for 7 to 10 days.

Swelling of the lower back. Use an ice pack periodically throughout the day.

Stiffness. Stretch or take a few short walks each day until you build up your strength and flexibility.

Fatigue. Rest assured that it’s temporary. Get plenty of rest until you feel like yourself again.

According to Be The Match, some donors find it more painful than they thought it would be. But others find it less painful than they expected.

Reading this got me even more mad at the Buckley parents, because baby Evan was expandable, they had him for the sole purpose of saving Daniel. It made me wonder if the graft worked but the baby died in the process if the grieving would have been as long as it is with Daniel.

I wonder if both survived, the treatment of baby to adult Evan would have been different - if he would have been considered the hero/savior by his parents.

I don’t wonder at Buck’s unbelievable tolerance for pain, and his habit to persevere despite everything.

I don’t wonder about Buck’s belief of how expandable he is (obviously he’s not), it’s because that’s how his parents made him feel, every day of his life for as long as he lived under their roof, and even outside of it.

Until the 118, bobby, and the Diazes, he really didn’t have a home.

And Chimney’s “Yes you were, by her.” (referring to Maddie wanting and loving him) does not makes a difference, because, yes she loves him and of course she wants him, always, but a sister’s love (even absent, for whatever reason) amazing as it is ( I have two, both younger) does not rival to the patterns of behavior and sense of self worth our parents can instill in us.

I know my parents love me, but they screwed me over pretty good. (My therapist is making good money off of me lol) I know my sisters love me and that they are always there when I need them, and vice versa, but that doesn’t make the damage our parents did, even inadvertently, any less harmful.

So Eddie’s very correct assumption (unlike the rest’s broken record - reckless) in Buck acting expandable is such an important observation that was finally made to Buck himself - and the fact that it was made by Eddie is even more important, because Eddie is the one that spend the most time with Buck, by choice, and actually sees him for who and what he really is.

Eddie doesn’t shy away from that conversation - and compared to Eddie of S3 and even S2 that is a hell of a character development, and a blessing in disguise because now they can both move on together. - Get better together.

I didn’t plan on making this about buddie - but the family Buck chose, choosing him back, in contrast to the family who brought him into this world out of necessity not out of choice is so highlighted in this case, it had to be adressed.

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comfortbucky · 3 years

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requests? did someone say requests??😌

fluffy headcanon, mafia boss!bucky comes home after being away for a week or so and it’s just a cute ass reunion between the reader & him with lots of kisses & hugs n shit

or(take your pick) :)

one shot, where john walker is really rude to reader(insults her & shit), but she stands up for herself. they(her & john) get into a fight & bucky finds out by surprisingly swinging by her apartment. of course bucky is pissed, but he tends to her wounds. then for some stupid reason, john shows up at readers apartment & bucky loses it. but it ends in bucky admitting his feelings to reader n some fluff 😩

hope you find motivation for at least one of these:😚

hi yes hehe i did say requests🙈

i’m a sucker for tfatws!bucky so- (and john walker is a rat bastard🤣 so lemme go off)

𝗶 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚ ⋆

pairing: tfatws!bucky x fem!avenger!reader

warnings: john walker (grr), violence! and descriptions of bloody injuries

A/N: also! i sort of changed the prompt i hope u don’t mind too much🥺 // this oneshot will not be taking place during the canon timeline btw but inspired by the events/themes of tfatws

word count: 1.5 k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N sighed, as she plopped onto the couch after a long day. She, Bucky, and Sam had spent the whole day researching the Flagsmashers to try and track them down. It took all day, partially because Bucky needed a little extra help with learning how to use his laptop. She chuckled at the memory, grabbing the remote to turn her TV on. Suddenly, a loud, aggressive, knock interrupted her thoughts. She sighed and leaned her head on the back of her couch, taking a moment to debate leaving her very comfortable spot, before getting up to answer the door. Y/N knew that she probably should have peeked through her peephole before answering, but she wanted to return to the comfort of her couch as soon as possible. She opened it to see none other than John Walker, greeting her with a smirk. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“What are you doing here, John? How the hell did you even get my address?”

“All government property has GPS tracking in it," he said, pointing to her laptop on the kitchen table behind her. She turned and frowned as he continued. "Look, you need us, me and Battlestar, to take down Karli.” She looked back at John, laughing at Lemar’s alias.

“No way I’m letting someone who goes by Battlestar help me out.” He glared at her comment. “Or you, a Captain America wannabe.”

John took an aggressive step closer, way too close for Y/N’s comfort, as he replied. “I am Captain America, whether you like it or not.”

"You'll never be Captain America," she snapped back. "You don't have what it takes." He glared at her and put his face right in front of hers.

"How would you know? You're a pathetic excuse for a soldier," he spat and Y/N grimaced at John's spit landing on her cheeks. He looked at her, his eyes examining her body. She hated every second of it, his stare making her feel grimy all over, like she immediately needed a shower. “Who’d you fuck to get into the Avengers anyways? Bet it was Steve.”

John’s comment was immediately followed by Y/N’s fist connecting with his cheek, forcing him to stagger back into the hall. She’d heard concerns about her abilities as an Avenger before, calling her weak, fragile, a bitch, etc. But she knew they almost always came from misogynistic men, and was able to shrug their comments off because she knew that she could easily beat all of them to a pulp, no problem. But thinking that she would sleep her way into becoming an Avenger crossed a line. Especially someone she respected and had admired as much as Steve.

John held his hand to his cheek, where he’d been hit, and looked up to make eye contact with Y/N. He smiled and before stating in a condescending tone, “That was cute.” John kicked her in the stomach, launching her onto the floor of her apartment. As she groaned and started to get up, John chuckled and kicked her down before she got to her knees. He went to kick her again when she rolled away, dodging his kick and standing up quickly, panting as she responded.

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?”

She kicked her leg up to deliver a roundhouse kick to John’s face, spinning around to punch his nose. He stumbled a couple steps back, regaining his balance before swinging a punch towards Y/N. She caught his fist before it hit her and John took the opportunity to use his free hand to grab his shoulder and knee her in the stomach. She gasped, getting the wind knocked out of her. He then threw her into a shelf, shattering several photo frames on the ground. She landed on her stomach, attempting to get up by pushing her self up on her forearms. Y/N felt a warm liquid on her cheek and touched it, pulling it away from her face to see her fingertips covered in blood.

“Asshole,” she mumbled, before standing up to continue fighting.

Several moments ago, Bucky had made the decision to show up at Y/N’s apartment. He pressed some random keys on his computer, and now there was an error message that wouldn’t go away on his screen. Stubbornly, he tried to fix it on his own but ended up making it worse. He sighed in defeat, closing his laptop shut and tucking it under his arm before heading over towards her apartment. Bucky was just down the hall when he heard the sound of glass shattering, his leisurely stroll turning into a sprint to Y/N’s door.

Bucky arrived to see you pinned up against a wall with John’s hand around ur throat. Your hands were desperately clawing at John’s, attempting to free yourself from his grasp. Fear and terror consumed him before a wave of fury took over. Immediately, Bucky launched into action, dropping his laptop in the process. He ripped John away from you, tossing him on the ground. Bucky moved to hover over John, punching him repeatedly in the face. Y/N finally caught her breath and crawled over to Bucky, placing a hand on his shoulder, signaling him to stop. He kept his eyes on John’s bloody and bruised face, lowering his fist.

“Touch her again, and I’ll kill you,” he snarled, releasing John from his grasp.

John rolled over, took a moment to catch his breath. Bucky was standing, fists still clenched by his sides, as he watched John get up and exit Y/N’s apartment without another word.

He closed the door behind him and immediately spun around to see Y/N struggling to get up, attempting to push up from one of her knees. Bucky instantly rushed to her side, helping her to her feet. He grabbed one of her hands in his own and placed his other hand on the small of her back, as he guided her to the couch. He examined her and felt a pain in his chest, looking at her black eye, cut cheek, and her bruised neck outlined with John’s handprint. Without saying a word, he stood up and returned with a first-aid kit from her bathroom. He sat back down and immediately started to tend to her wounds. As Bucky started to disinfect the cut on her cheek, he spoke.

“That was stupid of you,” he mumbled, gently dabbing antiseptic ointment on her cut. It was a drastic contrast from his behavior only minutes ago, nearly ready to murder John. He took a bandaid from the kit and delicately placed it on her cheek. Bucky then moved his hand to assess her black eye, his thumb softly grazing a soft patch of skin under her eye. She frowned and lightly pushed his hand away.

“I would’ve been fine on my own, you know.”

“Sit still so I can take a look at your bruise.” He responded gruffly, lifting his hand and attempting to look at her bruised eye again. She shoved his hand away, this time more aggressively, and tried to stand up.

“Just leave me alone,” Y/N said, wincing and clutching her abdomen in pain, causing Bucky to grab her waist and slowly lower her back down onto the couch. Fucking John Walker.

“Y/N.”

She pulled his hands off her and reluctantly sat down to face him.

“You don’t need to defend me, Bucky,” she spoke, Bucky sensing anger in her voice. “I’m not some weak, helpless civilian. I’m a god damn Avenger for christ sake!” As Y/N shouted, her voice wavered and her eyes started to well up with tears.

Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and Bucky sat with his hands resting on his lap. Although she was speaking to Bucky, she felt like she was more-so trying to convince herself of what she was saying.

“I know,” he said calmly, but with a stern tone, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

“Okay, so leave me alone.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not!”

“Because I fuckin’ care about you!” Bucky shouted, causing Y/N’s face to immediately soften.

Her arms dropped to rest in her lap and she froze as Bucky softly raised his hand to cup her cheek, captivated by his touch. He cautiously moved, worried she would push his hand away again, but she didn’t. His thumb gently caressed her non-cut cheek and he pulled her face close to his. She felt his breaths fan her face as he spoke.

“I know you’re one of the strongest Avengers,” he started. “And I know you could kick John’s ass any day of the week. But I care so much about you and I need you to be okay.” Bucky’s lips hovered over Y/N’s, lightly brushing against hers.

“I need you, Y/N.”

She responded by crashing her lips onto his, moving her hands to hold his face closer to hers. The kiss was full of passion, love, and unspoken feelings. When they broke apart, gasping for air, Y/N smiled at him and ran a hand through his hair.

“I care about you too, Buck.”

Bucky had never seen such a bright light in his 106 years of living.

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diazactually · 3 years

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if you’re still doing the sleepover: buddie + first ‘i love you’

you know what i’m literally gonna write a little ficlet for you about that😌

it’s a mess, since i wrote this in like one sitting but it’s just for fun and the idea wouldn’t leave me alone🥰

buddie + first ‘i love you’

fluff, established relationship

He was standing in the kitchen by the sink, working his way through the dirty dishes which despite his best efforts kept sneakily piling up during the day. He didn’t understand when or why Christopher picked up the habit of using a new glass each time he wandered into the kitchen to drink during a quick break from playing video games with his friends, this was the fourth one and he literally did the dishes last night. He will have to have a conversation with his son about that. And on top of that, it wasn’t even his turn to do the dishes. Buck volunteered to do them after breakfast and then disappeared without a word, which, rude. It’s been over an hour.

Eddie was considering calling Sophia just to have some company until he’s done with his chore when he heard the front door suddenly open and close with probably a bit too much force. About time, he thought, as he quickly dried his hands with the kitchen cloth, turning around just in time to see Buck enter the kitchen with a wide grin on his face and two cups of coffee in a holder in his hand.

“Well, well, well. He lives! I thought I would have to sick Athena on you,” he said as he folded his arms over his chest, settling against the kitchen counter.

At that Buck stopped, taking in the situation. Eddie saw the exact moment he came to a conclusion after his eyes went from Eddie’s raised eyebrow to the half-done dishes in the sink and his expression turned sheepish.

“Sorry. I had to go and pick up something real quick.’ he said with an apologetic smile. ‘But! I come bearing beverage!” he added as he pulled out one of the takeaway cups from the holder and presented it to him with a bow, his smile turning teasing. This goof. “Black, just like your heathen self likes it,” Well.

“You cannot talk. You drink sugary milk with a tad bit of coffee,” he deadpanned but decided to take the coffee as a peace offering.

“Lies,” Buck replied while taking a sip of his own cup before setting it down on the counter. “Anyways! Let’s move on to more pressing topics! You and Chris are free tomorrow, right?” his boyfriend asked excitedly, eyes sparkling, giving the perfect imitation of a golden retriever puppy wagging it’s tail.

“Uh, yeah. I was thinking maybe we could set up the inflatable pool in the garden. Chris has been pestering me about it and it’s not really a one-man job,” It’s not like he can ever say no to Chris when he wants to try something and they bought the pool in the beginning of the pandemic but never got around to setting it up. The only person who might be even worse at denying Chris’s wishes is Buck so it’s not like they ever really stood a chance. Eddie can’t seem to feel bothered by it though.

“That’s great! But actually I was thinking something else,” Buck grinned, basically vibrating with excitement as he pulled something out from his pocket and trusted it in Eddie’s face who amusedly took one of the three somethings from his boyfriend so he could actually see what it is. And when he did he almost choked on his own spit.

“Are these—?”

“Tickets for the aquarium!” Buck exclaimed, doing a little hop he always does when he is overjoyed. “Chris has been talking about it nonstop saying how several new exhibitions had been added while it was closed for the pandemic. And you said how you wanted to take him to the reopening tomorrow since it’s much safer now but they were sold out of tickets in minutes.” He remembered the heartbroken look on his son face and how much he wanted to do anything to make it go away. “Both of you were so heartbroken about it that I couldn’t let it go and so I had an alert set for the websites people go on to sell their tickets if they decide not to use them. I didn’t have high hopes because the aquarium gave out such a limited amount of tickets but guess what! I managed to buy three tickets so we can all go tomorrow!”

“You did?” he asked softly looking up to take in his boyfriend.

“Yeah, but don’t tell Chris! It has to be a surprise! He deserves it, he’s got an A in most of his classes so this could be the perfect opportunity to celebrate,” Buck said as he began reading the text on the backside of one of the other tickets, starting on the research that inevitably will follow later.

Eddie barely even registered reaching a hand out to cup Buck’s face to turn it up so his boyfriend’s gaze met his, surprise painting his features. And for a second he only stared at him. The need to just pull him into Eddie’s arms and cherish him forever was overwhelming as he leaned in to softly press their lips together. He just stayed there for a moment, breathing in the sweet scent of Buck’s cologne, tasting the sinfully oversweetened coffee on his tongue, just taking it in, all his senses focusing on Buck, Buck, Buck, before he pulled away and leaned back to look the other man in his beautiful, stunnigly blue eyes.

“Gosh, I love you,” he said, sweeping the stray locks off Buck’s forehead, running his eyes over his features as the other man gave off a choked sound. He loved Buck. He thought of how this realisation sneaked up on him slowly, moment by moment as they spent time together. There wasn’t any other possible outcome, they were headed here all along. Every conversation they had where day by day the topics became deeper, every selfless act of service which they did for the other without having to be asked, ever since the beginning, every movie night which forged their little family unit of three.

He was brought out of his thoughts by smooth lips pressing to his and his face being cradled so gently. Seems like somebody caught up as well.

“You love me,” Buck breathed after they pulled away but only barely, their lips still brushing as they formed words. His voice barely a whisper, full of wonder.

“I do,” he said, moving his other hand up to tenderly slide his thumb over his boyfriend’s temple.

“You love me!” Buck said again giddily, sounding more sure now, understanding the words for what they are and letting them settle over him.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Eddie chuckled.

“You said it first.” God, he was such a dork. And Eddie couldn’t do anything but love him all the more for it. He was hopeless, but when he was with Buck that thought didn’t scare him, when he was with Buck he wasn’t filled with dread over being vulnerable because he knew that no matter what came, Buck would catch him.

He felt hands on his face, felt them pulling it backwards so he was forced to look into the eyes of the man he adored and he was met with a blinding smile and a softness in his boyfriend’s eyes that he knew his own reflected perfectly. “I love you too,” Buck said, giving Eddie’s lips a gentle peck, his fingers running through his hair. “So much.”

And they stayed there, holding each other while trading soft kisses and even softer words, as the dishes sat in the sink, long forgotten.

#asdgsadgsads i hope you like it #i’m sorry it’s all over the place lmao #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #buddie #buck x eddie #buddie fic #911 #911onfox #911 on fox #911 fic #diaz-buck #arah writes #tuserel

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a-froger-epic · 3 years

Text

Interview with a Queen “groupie”

Cross-posted to AO3. I encourage you to leave any comments you have there.

---

I compiled this interview following a long email exchange with J, a very sweet lady who went to Ealing Art School between 1972 and 1974. She knew all four members of Queen personally and was part of their larger circle of friends.

First off, you may find this hard to believe. I don’t blame you. But I assure you I’m not pulling your leg. As well as the pictures I share in this post, I have seen current pictures of J (which I will not share to protect her privacy). There is no indication as far as I am aware that she isn’t who she says she is.

Nastally, hold up. How exactly did you find this lady?

She found me. It turns out that she has been following my story Dawn of Aquarius for quite some time. The story is set in 1969. A lot of research about the era went into it, because I wanted to portray that time period - and Freddie’s and Roger’s surroundings - as accurately and realistically as I possibly could. That was what drew J in. She tells me it brought back a lot of memories for her. One of the reasons I love DoA so much is the nostalgia, she says, which genuinely means the world to me. Eventually, she talked to me in the comment section. Of course, I freaked out!

And then, I asked her for an interview, to which she replied: I will give it a go, but you must remember that I am 65 and there were great drugs in the 70s, and at 16, away from home, I had a lot!

And so...

Here’s what is IMPORTANT TO KEEP IN MIND when you read this interview.

These are one woman’s 50-year-old memories and subjective impressions. J has been incredibly kind to let me pick her brain, trying to recall everything as best as she can. In her own words:

Just remember that when I answer the questions, it is from a 16-year-old who is 9 years younger than Freddie and a little girl with no family and friends in a strange country trying to fit in. The only reason I was there, was because some hippie thought I had a unique art style.

---

J as a teenager.

[I have edited the interview together from our long, and somewhat messy at times, email exchange. Typos have been fixed and some punctuation added for clarity, but I have not changed anything J has written to me. Again, bear in mind these are personal opinions and impressions.]

So, J, how did you end up at Ealing Art School in 1972 and what was it like?

This was the painting done for the Australian school-leaving certificate.

It placed first and gave me a scholarship. I could pick France, the USA or England. As a dual citizen of the UK, the choice was easy. The scholarship paid for board and fees, so had to be and sell whatever for spending money.

This picture is from the dorm. We all had a 10pm curfew and a very thick rule book that, I am proud to say, I broke every one of them, one by one. The rooms were on the 1st and 2nd floor. We were on the first floor, rooms one side and admin staff the other end. We had two bathrooms for 18 girls. One of them had two baths. The walls were your standard half wall, so it was a given that if you had a bath you run the risk of having a bucket of cold water dropped on you. Downstairs was the kitchen and lounge room.

I want to ask you a few things about life in London in the early 70s, to get a picture of what it was really like. For example, was there alcohol at the music gigs you went to?

If it was a school, church or community hall, no. If it was a pub, yes.

Did you and your friends drink as much then as young people tend to drink now when you all went out?

No, we didn't. I think it had a lot to do with money. We didn't have the disposable income, and it was unheard of to still be living at home with the parents after the age of 20.

Was weed and LSD as big and easily accessible as depictions of the 60s and 70s would have us believe?

The drugs! Got to have drugs. Pot (weed) was easy to grow, very cheap. Used to smoke it in bongs rather than joints, more bang for your buck. Trips [LSD] were cheap, I think. About 2 pounds and you were on the high for over 24 hours with no sleep. My drug of choice was hash. Either the oil or the block. It was a nice high, but you could not function well. But if you listen to the music of the time it really does reflect what it was like, to have a group of friends over for a session. Having said all that the most outlandish and shocking drug I ever saw anyone use was the birth control pill. Didn't you have to hide that stuff away?!

Can you tell us some 70s slang that isn’t really in use anymore? What in the world does “ultra-blagging” mean? (As written in a letter penned by Freddie to his friend Celine in 1969.)

Abso-bloody-lootely!

Man, I thought I was the bees knees to be on a scholarship in London. But that didn't stop me from jigging or having a skive day. They were the days that I blagged my way into a pub, had too many lagers and ended up chundering in the gutter. That was how you knew your night was ace. I would get a right bollocking if anyone found out. It would be a bugger when all that you could find at a car boot sale was chavtastic, but sometimes you could be Jammy Dodger and tickety-boo you find something brilliant. Bob's your uncle. Anyways, I need to see a man about a dog.

[It seems to me that J uses a bit of Australian slang here, like chundering, which makes sense because she is, after all, Australian. She also provided the translation:]

Cheers

It would be my honour.

I felt very privileged to be given a scholarship that let me study in England. But being so young and having no family to guide me, it was often tempting to not turn up or give a false excuse for being sick. (I had a lot of food poisoning). These would often happen if the night before I had been drinking beer and ended up vomiting outside the pub. But in my young mind that was a good night. If any of the teachers found me drinking I would be in a lot of trouble. Often I would have to say I was holding it for someone else. Not having much clothes with me, I would buy them second hand from church jumble sales or other students and, yes, Kensington market (the market). Some of the stuff would not be very tasteful or in good condition. But sometimes you would find something that was cheap and in good condition. I will stop this text now as I must go to the toilet.

PS: Ultrablagging sounds very Freddie. Blagging was used, but not ultra, meaning to persuade someone to do something or act better than you are. They were always rock stars.

Sincerely

[It was at this point that I realised I was talking to an absolute legend. She also told me then that the majority of her old photographs had sadly been lost when her house was flooded in 1988, including most of the photographs from her stay in London. Noooo! :(]

When you went out to dance, did you have only live music? Were there DJs yet?

You know, that is hard. We did not have a DJ. Sometimes there would be a band. Often we looked for places with a band or the jukebox. I think pubs closed at 10pm and some stayed open to 12 or 1, but public transport stopped at 9. So if you had not arranged a lift then you had to make the last bus. Most of the time we would be heading back to someone's place to get stoned and then crash there. In the morning you would have to work out where you were. When I got back to Australia, the discos were all the rage. They could have been in London too but it was not cool to like disco.

How many people would show up to Queen’s gigs when they played in pubs or at, for example, the Imperial College?

Depending on the location and the night: 10 to 1000!

So how did you first meet the Queen boys?

I was at the pub talking about a band we saw last week when Brian stuck his head into our booth telling us he knew a better one. Thinking about seeing them at the stall... Roger not often, Freddie quite a lot. Often on different stalls, I think that is why I can't remember the name. [The name of the stall. Other sources confirm that Freddie also worked at Alan Muir’s stall, for example, selling shoes.]

How well did you know them?

Just looking at your tumblr account. [she has had a look at my blog, where somebody asked if ‘groupie’ meant she had slept with the band] No, I never slept with the boys. I would not say I was a close friend, but I started at Ealing Art College in ‘72 and moved in the same circles. I loved the music and could be called one of the first groupies. I had to sneak into the pubs because I was 16. Roger always teased me for being so young. They all did seem to be one very large family, not just the band. It was a group of about twenty regulars, both male and female. Everyone knew that Fred was too gay to function. We were all at the gay rights march in London in 1972, had to run after the march. Lots of sharpies [Australian slang: youth gang, thugs] wanting to bash us. Back then I was in every protest that was going, student union rights, even the secretary protest. Just part of the times, stick it to Man or Woman. I left London in ‘74 for Australia, been here ever since and lost track of the boys but have never stopped being a fan.

What do you remember about them? How would you describe their personalities?

Don’t let the trolls hate me, but I did not like Brian. I found him to be rather full of himself. Space was a subject you never brought up around Brian or you would die of old age before he stopped talking. He was always the first to speak and start a conversation and then quickly passed you off to John, who was always tired and shy. Roger was also quite shy at times. He was very self-conscious of his looks, as he felt being pretty, nobody would take him seriously. Fred, well, he was not yet the big star, so I think he was working on his stage persona. When talking to groups at parties, he had the best stories of things that had happened to him or close friends. They were very funny and very descriptive. He was the life of the party. When he had a few to drink or was the centre of attention, he would take a cigarette out of the closest person’s hand and start smoking. Now remember this is the point of view of a 16-year-old girl that was a fish out of water, trying to fit in and not having much worldly experience.

It is said that Freddie and Roger were very stylish. How did they dress in everyday life?

Fred would do his hair and makeup to check the mail. Yes, he was always turned out, but so were a lot of people. Freddie did go over the top with hats, scarfs and jewellery. With Roger, it is a surprise he was able to have kids his jeans were that tight. And his shirts were always open unless he was in a jumper. I think it could have been so that you knew he was male, as it was the start of the unisex clothing. When I travelled out of London I realised it was a London thing. When I got back to Australia everyone thought I was a show-off.

There are some disagreements about how tall especially Freddie was. I know this is a difficult thing to try and remember accurately. But do you remember?

Freddie was taller than me but everyone was. Roger was shorter than Fred, but I never saw Roger in platform shoes. I did meet up with the band by chance at Sydney airport in 1984, said ‘hello’ but they did not remember me, or if they did then they did not say anything and I did not want to be a dork. At that time Fred was the same height as me (5ft 8in/1.72m), Roger was taller than me. It made me think at the time that he had a growth spurt! John was shorter than me and Brian has always been tall. [I have a feeling the platform shoes - or lack thereof - played a vital role here! Although 172cm for Freddie seems likely.]

You said everyone knew Freddie was “too gay to function”. Attitudes towards homosexuality have changed so much that it can be hard for us, now, to fathom what exactly people must have thought of him. Was it more of a joke that he was so camp? Was it something he would have been teased for? Also, he had a girlfriend. Did you ever meet Mary or the other girlfriends?

In 1972 a whole group of us - and I am pretty sure that Fred, Roger, Brian and Tim were there - were in a gay pride march. [Since then, J has found and showed me a picture of a boy she thought was Tim Staffel, and it wasn't, so Tim was most definitely not there. Whether Freddie, Roger and Brian really were there or if J is misremembering, who knows?] Us youth believed you could not choose who you fell in love with and if it was same sex, so what? However, if it was two girls then it was every guy’s duty to change her!

It was also a time that the gayer the guy was, the more the girls were interested. Also, if a guy was gay then you did not have to worry about him and he was a good person to take with you if you were going out drinking. However, the police, parents, teachers and anyone of authority were horrified and treated them badly. I did meet Mary a couple of times at pubs and once after a gig. This is just my opinion, but I found her a bitch. It could be that I was so young. It could be that I was very Australian. It could be that she felt threatened as my accent was a magnet to people around. And the boys (Queen) were no exception. Brian had a cousin in OZ and was always asking questions. I remember that my close group of friends thought that Mary made the perfect girlfriend for Fred as they were as fake as each other. Having said that about them, I often wonder if I would think the same now and if my perceptions were just because she would not give me the time of Day. Chrissy and Jo were a lot of fun.

This was before your time, but I read that Freddie's nickname at Ealing Art School was ‘Freddie Baby’. Any ideas how this came about? His showmanship or maybe personality traits?

I don't think so. There were an older crowd that would talk like that. I think the slang ‘baby’ was a 60’s thing, like groovy baby.

How long, roughly, did Roger and Freddie have their stall? I can't find anywhere when it closed down. What did it actually look like? Was it a sort of wooden stall type of thing? Or an actual room? What were some of the other things people sold at Kensington Market? Mostly clothes or all sorts?

The markets were little divided shops. The back was brick and the walls wood. I have been trying all day to remember the name. [Of the stall.] I think it was something hard to say. More often than not it would be Freddie's dad in the store. It was still open when I left. Roger and Freddie were both in the store on Saturdays and some Sundays. There was a girl, I think Jill, who was in the store more. And during the week it could be anyone. You name it and you could get it at the markets. Second hand or designer clothes, shoes, jewellery, pot and assortments. Hair cuts, food, bric-a-brac.

Wait, wait. What? Freddie’s dad? Really now?

Yeah, it was an older Indian man. so we just assumed it was his father. It was my understanding that he started the stall then the boys would work it as the whole markets were set up for younger people, but if needed he would work there. I don't think the boys would be able to pay the rent on their own. [I have since found out that the stall closed in late 1971, and Freddie continued to work at the Market until '74, for Alan Mair and possibly others. So the stall J witnessed wasn't their original stall - explaining all the different people she saw there - but she had no way of knowing that it wasn't.] They always had incense burning that was very big in the 70s. I still occasionally bring out the sticks, but it does not last like the candles and diffusers of today. If you could get in touch with Robert Daniels, he ran ChaChaDumDum it was the stall across from Freddie. He would know the dates.

[J says it’s this look, in a picture she happened across while looking at my tumblr] Yep, that is the one. It usually means that he does not believe or agree with something that was said and is working out how to respond, or he has lost the plot.

You mentioned Roger seemed shy to you at times. Was he also quite charming? We read a lot about what a chick magnet he was. Was this the impression you had?

My favorite subject! I had a thing for Roger. Everyone has a type and mine is the blue-eyed blond. Now, before you ask, was he brunet? No, he was a mouse/dirty blond. If it was summer he would have blond streaks mostly at the ends. He knew he was pretty and was always dressed in the latest fashion and had the current hairstyle. So, being my type I was constantly watching him. Everyone slept around during that time. I did not notice Roger doing it more or less. 80% of the time he was with Jo. Yes, he was a chick magnet, but he did not do the chasing. He was always very polite to everyone. If it ever looked like there would be any conflict he would be the first to leave it. It was not that he was a coward, just not into conflict. If he saw anyone that needed help he was right there, and often had to have Freddie's back. I never saw him in a fight. He could always talk his way out of things. He was also very patient and would listen for hours to other people talk. However, he would get this vacant look in his eyes at times.

And Freddie would either click his fingers, change the subject or just give up. I don’t think that Brian noticed, and it would be fair game for John, he would see how far he could push it. Roger liked to drink a fair bit and when drunk he would be hanging all over Jo. If she was not there then he missed Jo. If, however, he thought that he or his friends were not being respected, then look out! It was a verbal volcano heading your way. That is what happened to me one time. I was trying to talk with my friends close to where a drunken Roger was and I yelled at him to shut the hell up, you wannabe blond. We/I coped a mouthful back, all in the same sentence, that finished with: Sorry, I didn't realise you were on your rags (period)! I have to have the last word, so I told him the truth: I don’t get them yet! (I was a late starter.) He went so red in the face and called me JB [jail bait] from then.

You also mentioned Roger’s cat Ziggy having kittens. I read about this but never when exactly it was. Do you remember?

I think it was winter ‘73. I remember being cold when he was asking around the pub. [To find homes for the kittens, I gather.]

Is it quite strange reading fictional interpretations of real people you knew? When did you first find out there was Queen fanfic?

No, we used to make up stories about people all the time, a verbal fanfic. Was looking up Adam Lambert and came across the fanfics. Some had me in stitches! Others, like DoA, had me hooked.

Please, allow me to be a little self-indulgent at the end. What's one thing I got totally RIGHT in DoA?

All the Ibex stuff.

What's one thing I got totally WRONG in DoA?

Roger did not have a temper, and I don’t know what the go with his father was, but he would talk about him quite a bit and was always visiting his mum. [Absolutely fair, not only did I change the timeline of Roger’s parents divorce in DoA - for lack of information at the time - but also created a completely fictional narrative around it for the sake of storytelling.]

J, thank you so much for all this, sincerely. Can you tell me a little more about yourself? Are you still an artist?

I don't paint or draw any more. At the age of a 50 the doctors operated on an aneurysm or three, and now my eyesight is very bad, I have no fine motor skills and a tremor. I was married in January 1984 and have just celebrated our 37 year anniversary. I have one daughter who is 30 and two great, although tiring grandkids. A girl, 11, and one boy, 5. I have lived my life as the average middle class Australian with great memories. Talking with you has helped me a lot to remember a time when the world was mine for the taking. When I returned to OZ I started nursing, met my best friend, and we planned that once we graduated we would go back to London to study midwifery. But I fell in love instead.

J's wedding in 1984. As you can see, she found her own blue-eyed blond.

---

Upon request, J has shared some of her past and present artwork with me.

These are from her time at Ealing Art School:

These were done later, back in Australia:

J: Did this just before Christmas as you had inspired me. It did not require fine motor skills!

So there you have it! I hope you found this little glimpse through a 16-year-old girl’s eyes as much of a fascinating read as I did. I urge everybody one more time to remember that J did not have to share any of this, and I think we all owe her a big thank you for delving into her memories. She is likely to see the responses on AO3, so I have comment moderation enabled there as I will not let anybody harass this lovely lady. The tumblr she created is @since72, but she isn’t really an active user and also very new to it all. Again, I can only urge everybody to be respectful.

If you have other burning question for J, feel free to leave them in the comments on AO3. I will either pass them on, or she may want to reply to them herself directly.

#Queen band #Freddie Mercury #Roger Taylor #John Deacon #Brian May #interview #i am so excited about this #so much into #information #JB

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fluffywings13 · 3 years

Text

Throwing The Gauntlet

Keigo looks up from his phone when one of his gloves is thrown down into his lap, meeting his adopted son’s sparkling green eyes, and looks down at the glove in his lap. “Are you—”

“Yes.” The teen nods firmly. “Yes I am.”

He looks up at him sympathetically. “Bad day.”

“Yes.” The teen nods just as firmly. “Yes it was.”

“Understood.” The hero tosses his phone over his shoulder, quickly followed by his glove, and boosts himself up with his wings. “Same stakes?”

“Yes.” The teen nods just as firmly again. “Same stakes.”

…

“I don’t know why you think you can challenge me.” The hero smiles at the teen’s shrieking giggles as he scratches under his baby toe with the talon of his index finger, their match had been one for the record books, the teen had held his own for a good length of time, until he decided he’d had enough of being Mr. Nice Guy and went after his belly button, claiming victory over their well fought battle. “I always win, you know I do, I know I do, I know you know I know I do.” Keigo grins at his son’s squeals when he scratches his talon down the length of his sole. “How are you already losing it, I’m not even doing anything.”

Keigo is well aware of the fact that the boy is fourteen, but that will never stop him from being his adorable little cutie bird, the little cutie bird that used to follow him around his agency hidden under his wing, peeking out at everyone they stopped to talk with.

Izuku squeals and arches his back when two talons scratch over the arch of his foot, pressing his chin to his chest, fanning his toes out before clenching them tightly, jerking his captured foot around in an attempt to get away from the two talons. He shakes his head when a talon scratches at the ball of his foot, arching his back again, turning up onto his left side, feeling the grip around his ankle adjust itself to accommodate his change in position.

He likes it, he likes these moments, he likes being able to goof around with his dad, especially after a bad day or the man’s been extra busy and their schedules don’t line up so they can be together. Make no mistakes, his dad still takes the time out of busy days to make sure he knows he’s thinking about him, he’ll come home after a long day, deep into the night, and he’ll feel him pulling his blankets up over his shoulder, warm lips brushing over his temple as he drifts off to sleep. He likes these moments, he loves them, where his dad and him get to mess around, to bask in each other’s presence.

Izuku likes it.

The teen squeals when a talon strokes down the middle of his foot. “Just think, I got two feet to play with, and we haven’t even gotten to those toes yet.” He scratches under the teens toes with his talons and smiles when he squeals again, cackling madly, toes fanning out and wiggling frantically. “I know all about these toesies, yea I do, I know all there is to know about them.” Izuku screams with laughter when the hero holds his toes steady and scratches at the pad of his big toe lightly with his talon. “What’d ya say, should we play with these toes, have we waited long enough?” The greenette shakes his head frantically. “We haven’t, you want me to keep playing with your foot instead, those toes not ready yet?”

“Oh, I’m gettin’ me them toes.” Keigo scratches at the teen’s heel lightly. “And boy, am I gonna get them toes too.” He reaches over his shoulder. “I’m gonna take one of my feathers.” He plucks a small feather from his left wing. “I’m gonna put it just about here.” Izuku shakes his head when the hero threads it between his last two toes. “And, I’m gonna saw it just like this.” The teen squeals loudly when he starts brushing his feather back and forth, cackling loudly, his toes wiggling as he jerks his foot around. “Just like this, this is nice, I’m glad you threw down the gauntlet.”

The teen squeals and cackles, yanking on his foot, squealing when the feather moves to his next two toes. His dad chuckles softly, turning the feather over, and starts tracing shapes over his sole, and he shrieks shrilly, tugging on his foot desperately, especially when he finds a bad spot just above his heel, a spot he knew full well was there, and focused on it for a while longer. “How about we move on to that other foot, I can feel it wiggling around, it wants some attention too, doesn’t it?”

Izuku shakes his head frantically. “Nohohohho! Plehehhehehehease! Nohohohoho ihihihit dohohohohoesn’t! Dahahahahahahaad nohohohohoho!” (No! Please! No it doesn’t! Dad no!) He squeals when the quill of the feather starts scratching lightly at the ball of his foot. “Dahahahahahad! Dahahahahaaadddyyy! Nohohoot thehehehehheeere! Nohohohot thehehehehehere! Thahahahhaat’s nohohohohot nihihihiice! Yohhohohhou’re beheheheheeing meheheheheheean!” (Dad! Daddy! Not there! Not there! That’s not nice! You’re being mean!)

“No, I’m being very nice, me being mean would be doing this.” The hero grabs his other foot, holding both up by his ankles, and mentally threads feathers between his toes. “This is me being mean, kiddo.” He wills his feathers to move and the teen screams, kicking desperately, a feather between each toe, howling with laughter. “This is mean, don’t you think, was I being nice before?” Izuku can only nod, laughing too hard to form words, this was mean, this was dad being mean, he was being nice before, he regrets saying he was being mean now. “Hows about we just sit here for a few minutes before I pick another spot, how’s that sound, let’s say, five minutes, five minutes of feathers between your toesies, sound like a good plan?”

“NOHOHOHOHOHO NOHOHOHOHOHOO! IHIHIHIHIT DOHOOHOHOHOHOHOESN’T! MOHOHOHOHOVE MOHOHOHOHOVE PLEHEHEHEHEHEEASE! IHIHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAHAHAAN’T TAHAHAHAHAHHAAKE IHIHIHIHIT!” (No no! It doesn’t! Move move please! I can’t take it) The teen manages to scream between fits of uproarious laughter. “DAHAHAHAHAHAHAAD PLEHEHEHEHHEHEEEASE! GEEHEHEHEHEHEHET THEHEHEHEHEEM OUT! GEHEHEHEHEHET THEHEHEHEHHEEM OHOHOHOHOHOUT! PLEHEHEHEHEEASE! NOHOHOHOHOHOT FIHIHIHIHIVE MIHIHIHIHINUTES! PLEHEHEHEHEEASE!” (Dad please! Get them out! Get them out! Please! Not five minutes! Please!)

“I could though.” The hero teases gently. “I won, that mean’s I get to do whatever I want to you, those are the stakes remember. You win, I’m your personal slave for the day, I win, I get to play with you for however long I want. I won. You’re stuck at my mercy. And I’m not feeling particularly merciful today.” The teen pants and giggles when he calls his feathers back to his wings and drops his feet. “But, because I love you so much, I’ll move on. Working my way from bottom to top. Where next?”

Izuku just giggles breathlessly, watching the hero climb up over him, laying himself over his legs. He shakes his head pleadingly when feathers curl around his wrists, and he struggles against them, when his arms are lifted above his head, watching in horror as his shirts pushed up over his belly.

Keigo pokes at his lower belly, and he bites his lip, twitching and swallowing giggles with every poke. “Now we’re on the tummy. This tummy’s really in for it, I know just how bad this tummy is, I’ve had years of research.” He pokes up to the sides of his belly button and pauses there. “Guess what’s gonna happen to this tummy, go on, give it your best guess.” The boy merely shakes his head. “Want me to tell you, just get it out in the open, pass the guessing altogether.” He wiggles his fingers slowly and those adorable giggles pick up just a tad bit more. “It’s gonna be tickle tortured.” The hero claws his two fingers in sharply and the teen bursts with a loud squeal, bucking his hips, kicking his legs as best as he can under the hero, against the feathers holding them in place. “Oh yea, right there, right there’s real good.”

The greenette squeals shrilly laughter, twisting and turning, rocking from side to side, trying to get out from under those two fingers. Just two, all he needs to break him is one or two, that’s it, no more then that. He throws his head back and arches his back, pressing into the fingers, which makes him drop back down, and curl inwards slightly. His squirming is so much that the hero curls his arms down around his hips as he continues wiggling his fingers on the sides of his belly button, humming under his breath as though he wasn’t holding down and torturing a howling and squealing cutie bird.

“I’m gonna be mean to this tummy, I’ve just decided, in return for saying I was mean to those toes, if you think I’m being a meanie, then I’ll be a meanie. And that means….” The hero pinches down the sides of his belly and at his hips, until he arches his back again, and snakes his arms underneath him, curling around him to keep him from moving too much. “Berries. Lots and lots of berries.”

Izuku begs, he begs between fits of squealing laughter, already lost and nothing was even happening, for him not to do berries, which only makes him want to do them more. “Pleheheheheheease! Dahahahahahad nohohohot thohohohohose! Eeeeeieaiiaiaiaaaahhahahahahahahahahaa!” (Please! Dad not those! *squeal*) He squeals when the hero’s head dips teasingly. “Plehehehehehease! Nohohohoot beheheheheheherries! Plehehehehheeeeiaiaiaaiaaahahahahhahahahaa!” (Please! Not berries! Ple--*squeal*) He squeals when the hero’s head dips again. Why is he squealing despite no raspberries being laid down, because they’re that bad, that’s why, even the thought of them makes him want to squeal, and the hero’s head dips. “Eeieaiiaaiaaahahhahahahahahahahaa nohohohoho! Eeieaiaieaaahahhahahahahahhahaa stohohohohop trihihihihicking mehehehehee!” (*Squeal* No! *Squeal* stop tricking me!) Keigo grins and dips his head again. “Eeieiaiaaahahahahahahhahaaa!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop tricking you.” The teen regrets his words when the man takes a deep breath and buries his face in his belly, blowing a long harsh raspberry out over his belly button, and he screams. “AAAAAHAHHHHAEEEAEAAEEAAIAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAA NOHHOHOHOO WAHAHAHAHAHAHAAIT EIEIAIEAIAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA AAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA DAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAD EIEIAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAA!” (No wait! Dad!) He squeals when his dad takes another deep breath and buries his face in the side of his belly before blowing another raspberry, and again when he takes another deep breath and blows a raspberry over on the other side of his belly, and screams when he takes a deeper breath and blows out a harsher raspberry over his belly button. “AAAHAHAHAHHEHHAHEHHEAAIEAIEAIAAIAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAA EIEIEIAIEAAIAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA AAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAEHEHAHAHEEAIEIAEIAIAIAAAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAAHAA DAHAHAHHAHAAD! STOHOHOHOHOHOP! STOHOHOHOP EIEIAIAEAIAAHAAHAHHAAHHAAHAAHAAA AHAHAHEHHEHHEAHAHEAIAIAIAAIAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! (Dad stop! Stop!)

Keigo does not stop, he continues blowing raspberries all around the teen’s belly, basking in his high pitched squealing laughter, he loved it, as someone who never got to do these kinds of things in his previous life, he admittedly took advantage of the fact that he did get to do them now.

He blows his last raspberry and pulls back, smiling at the panting giggling mess left in his wake, and gives him a few minutes to catch his breath, because he’s nice like that.

Before raising his hands, hovering them over the teen’s belly, and making him giggle again.

He dips his fingers, and the boy squeals softly, arching his back, right into his wiggling fingers, and Izuku shrieks, dropping himself back down rather quickly. “I’m gonna get you, nestling.” The teen shrieks softly, shaking his head, giggling harder when the hero’s fingers dip down again, they don’t touch, but it still makes him squeal softly. “I’m gonna get you.” He shrieks and squeals softly, arching his back, meeting those wiggling fingers again, and he shrieks once more, throwing himself back down. “It’s gonna tickle, isn’t it?” Keigo dips his fingers again and Izuku giggles harder, shrieking, trying to suck in his belly. “You love the claws, don’t you, they sure love you.” The teen shakes his head frantically, giggling wildly, watching his hands as though his life depended on it, and their distance above his bare belly. “This tummy is gonna get it. I know every little ticklish spot you’ve got. I know just how ticklish this tummy is, I’ve done plenty of research.” Izuku shrieks and shakes his head, trying to suck in his belly, and hold it there, no easy task with his belly shaking with the force of his giggles. “They’re almost there. I’m gonna get you. I’m gonna get you and it’s gonna tickle so much.” The hero smiles playfully. “So, so much.”

Izuku inhales when the fingers stop wiggling, hovering just over his belly, and shakes his head again, biting his lip harshly, just staring at those fingers hovering precariously. He screams when they finally dig in, clawing into his belly viciously, arching his back into the fingers as he presses his chin to his chest. “Coochie, coochie, coo, cutie bird.” The hero claws at the teen’s belly for at least a good three minutes, clawing around, fingers vibrating in, basking in his shrilly squealing laughter. “How about we go back to where we started, huh, back to that one real bad spot.”

Izuku shrieks and shakes his head, even as the hero leans over his belly button, index fingers touching just outside it, on either side. “Nohohoho! Nohohoho dahahahahad nohohohoo! Nohohohot thehehehehere!” (No! No dad no! Not there!)

“Not where?” He digs his fingers in and the teen screams as he bucks his hips, squirming and twisting side to side, kicking his legs again. “Not here?” He wiggles his fingers in on either side of his belly button. “Does my lil cutie bird have a ticklish tummy?” Once again, the hero curls his arms down around his hips to keep him in place. “He sure does, my lil cutie bird has a super ticklish tummy.”

Keigo hums and leans over, resting his chin on his palm, and waits for the teen’s wild giggles to calm down. “Of course, we can’t forget the best spot, the primo most tickly spot, can we?” The greenette giggles brightly when he circles a finger around his belly button, shaking his head wildly. “Oh yea, right here, this little button, best spot ever.” He stops twirling his finger around and smiles. “And, in it goes.” Izuku screeches when he dips his finger in and starts wiggling around, arching his back and throwing his hips from side to side, trying to suck in his belly, but losing the ability to do so when the hero twists his finger around and he screams and squeals. “Does this tickle, cutie bird?” He smiles when the boy nods frantically. “Does it tickle bad?”

“Yehehehehehees! Yehehehehehehes! Gehehehehehet ihihihiihit ohohohout! Pleheheheheease gehehehehehet ihihihihit ohhohohohohout!” (Yes! Yes! Get it out! Please get it out!)

The hero’s feeling a tad merciful, so he gives another three minutes of wiggling his finger in that special little belly button, before pulling back, and resting on his elbows. He just smiles. His smile makes the teen giggle.

Izuku squeals when he leans forward, arms resting along his sides, and dips his head toward his belly. “Eieieaiaieaiaahahahahahahhahahaa! Nohohohoho!” (No!) The hero leans over just an inch to the right and dips down again. “Eeeaiaiiaiaaaahahhahahahahaha dahahahhahaad! Nohohohoho!” (Dad! No!) His dad is suck a tease. “Eeieiaiaiaaahahhahahahaahaa stohohohohop! Stohohohop teheheheheasing meehehehehee!” (Stop! Stop teasing me!) Keigo grins and bows again and the teen squeals. “Eeieiaiaaahahahahhahahahahaha aahhahahahahahhahahaa dahahahahhaad!” (Dad!)

He grins mischievously and takes a deep breath, falling forward, he buries his face in the kid’s belly and blows a harsh raspberry into his belly button, Izuku squeals loudly. “EEEIAIAIAIAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA DAHAHAHAHHAHAAAD EIEIAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA AEEIEIAIEAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA AAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHO MOHOHOHORE! EEIEIAIAIAAIAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEEHERE!” (Dad no more! Not there!)

His enjoyment is at the kid’s expense of course.

He laughs into the boy’s belly when he somehow, no one is quite sure how, manages to worm his right hand out from his feathers and buries his fingers in his hair and tugs desperately.

That mean’s it’s time, and he blows on last long raspberry over the teen’s belly button and pulls back. Flopping back against a stack of pillows, he smiles fondly as the teen curls up, curling his arms around his belly as he giggles deliriously.

The winged man nudges him with his foot. “C’mere, nestling, I’ll rub your tummy. No sneak attacks. I swear.”

Izuku eyes him carefully, his dad’s well known for his sneak attacks. “Let me see your hands.” The hero laughs softly and raises his hands, no crossed fingers, no valid argument, so he pushes himself up, crawls over to the man, and turns, flopping down over his lap, humming in delight when a large warm hand rubs his tummy soothingly. “Thanks dad.”

The man hums. “Feel better?”

“Yea,” the teen yawns and nods. “I feel better.”

“Good.” Keigo rubs a small circle over the middle of his son’s tummy and smiles when the boy purrs softly. “Take a nap, little one, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

#my hero academia #fanfic #tickle fic #ticklish!midoriya #ticklish!deku #tickle monster hawks #parental hawks #my hero academia hawks #pro hero hawks #mha takami keigo #papa bird #adopted midoriya #lee!midoriya #lee!deku #ler!hawks #ler!takamikeigo #fluffy #mha fluff

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grey-water-colors · 3 years

Text

After All This Time (Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader) Part 2

I went ahead and wrote the second chapter, I was so excited. I did a lot of research on PTSD and the triggers. I may not have a full grasp on it, but I hope I at least got some of it right. I feel kinda iffy on writing the characters, but I did my best to stay true to who they are. I hope you like this chapter!

Summary: The real world is a scary place, even more so when you’re alone. You live alone in a apartment filed with the ghosts of your memories. You’ve both changed since you last met your fiancé, but can love mend the gap after all this time.

Pairing: Bucky X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of torture, violence, yelling. Talks about triggers and PTSD. Mentions of death and killing. If there are any that I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 2,492

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Steve, I don’t understand why you’re dragging me out here to this museum.”

“They told me that they made a new addition to the Captain America exhibit and I didn’t want to go alone.”

Bucky clenched his vibranium hand and continued to follow Steve. “Did they at least tell you what it’s about?”

Steve sighed, “No, they didn’t. I wish they had though, I hate going into these things blind. Who knows what they’ve dug up.

“Steve, did you find it?”

“Uh, yeah Buck. I don’t think you want to see it though. It’s something they had no business digging in”

“What is it Steve. And don’t even think of lying to me, I know you too well.”

Steve sighed and led Bucky to the new exhibit. A memorial just like Bucky’s, but it was dedicated to Y/N L/N.

Bucky scoffed but read it out loud anyways. “Y/N L/N was a childhood friend of both Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Y/N met the two in 1923 and they were close ever since. In 1941 record says that she became engaged to Sargent Barnes, but never married. Y/N was drafted as an Army Nurse but died in Germany in 1944.” A picture of her before the war and in a case were her dog tags, which was weird. If she hadn’t been found, how were her tags here.

Bucky trailed off, the rest just going on about what kind of person she was. They stood in silence for a while, both staring at her picture. Steve finally broke the silence, “How much of her do you remember?”

Bucky looked away and tried to remember the girl in front of him. Flashes of smiles, tears, and laughter floated through his head, but he could only focus on one memory.

“I don’t remember her before the war.” Steve’s head moved to look at Bucky so fast that his neck cracked.

“What do you mean before the war Buck.”

He looked at Steve and backed up until he could collapse on a bench. A deep breath then, “I remember seeing her when I was the Winter Soldier. I vaguely remember a mission, maybe a couple, and then an order. I couldn’t help myself. All I could do was watch as I choked her to death, them dragging her away after declaring her dead.”

He shook his head as if he could erase the memory, make it disappear to never see again.

“If you killed her-“ Steve paused, “If you went on missions with her then she didn’t die in 1944. She was captured by Hydra. Then there could be a possibility that she, well that she could still be alive. Could it be possible that it was staged? Buck is there any chance at all that she could still be alive?”

Bucky shook his head again and looked at his hands. “I felt it Steve, I felt her neck crush. There’s no way she survived that.”

He took a deep sigh and felt the world shift, his heart plummeted to the ground as he realized the full gravity of what happened. “Oh god. Oh god, I killed her. I killed my fiancé, Steve.”

Steve just sat down next to Bucky, still in shock. She had been a good friend to Steve. They had come from similar backgrounds, hell they had grown up together, she understood him in a way that Bucky never could have at the time. She had been there when needed and even when she wasn’t. A ray of sunshine in a dreary New York. He had taken a picture of them after Bucky had proposed. They were all so happy.

It shook Steve to his core that Hydra had gotten their hands on her. He couldn’t imagine the horrors that she had gone through, might still be going through much like his best friend. Was she as much of a shell as Bucky?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It felt good to walk into her apartment without having to break in. She had hassled every office and bank that had her name in its databases to get her back as a registered live, human being. And to get electricity and water going to her place.

She had already been living in the apartment, but now she could cook, light a fire, and make noise. With her accounts opened again, she bought a couple pairs of clothes to wear while she cleaned the place.

Starting with the kitchen she cleaned every surface, threw away all the canned food that had been left behind.

By the time she had finished cleaning, she was physically exhausted, but she couldn’t bring herself to sleep in the master bedroom. She had managed to turn off her emotions for the day. No tears had been spilled because there had been work to get done. But her new superpower didn’t work now that she had nothing to do. Y/N stood in the middle of the living room desperately trying to stuff her emotions back into the box they had been in, but they had seen their chance and taken it.

Tears filled her eyes and she took her first real look around the place she had once called home. It was like she had never left at all. A place for everything and everything in its place. She turned to face the worn leather wingback. The thick blanket draped over the back just like it always had. She shuffled over to the chair and sat down in it. The leather was cold but familiar with the smell of her life before the war. Ghosts of days past floated through the air around her. She curled up in the chair, thick blanket pulled over her.

Things had been so easy then, and it would be so easy now to just fall back into that time when everything was perfect. Except the person that had helped make it perfect wasn’t here. A tear fell from her cheek onto the leather, and she quickly brushed it off not wanting to ruin the chair.

As she was wallowing in self-pity, a fight broke out on the street below her window, voices piercing the air and pulling her back to a place she never wanted to go again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Project Cecilia had become a nightmare. A nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. The project was a testing ground of trial and error. They tested the trial serums, triggers, enforcers, and everything else to make sure that they wouldn’t damage whoever took the role of Winter Soldier. The project was named after the scientist who did most of the testing.

The serums were bad, it felt like lighting her blood on fire, like hell itself was inside her. But trigger testing was far worse. For every test or experiment, a trigger experiment came after. Is sound more effective than smell? Are words better than sounds? What kind of words work better than others?

Trial and error for over 30 different types of triggers until they settled on a list of words that would mean something to the Winter Soldier. Her mind was blocked off so carefully that she couldn’t remember anything before the last trigger.

Here she was, testing how much electricity a super soldier could take before things started to shut down. And then the doctor walked in. Constantine Cecilia was the man who haunted her dreams. She couldn’t ever quite remember who he was, but somehow she knew that when he arrived, things would be bad.

“How is our little rabbit doing today? I believe a congratulations are in order, you finished testing.”

He put on plastic gloves and his assistant walked up to them both. “She’s due for sound this time.”

The doctor smiled. “Good good.”

Things were going well; the set-up went smoothly. She was ready to receive the trigger, the thing her mind would take as a trauma to seal away all of the bad.

But then a fight broke out, and then people were yelling, screaming at each other. The trigger was set.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shuri had done her best at getting rid of the physical effect of the triggers, and by best, she was completely successful. Unfortunately, there was still an emotional effect that came with the triggers. Certain smells, sounds, colors, and even sometimes emotions would send her spiraling into a memory. Most were memories that terrified her, they brought her back to Hydra and their torture. Some were good, like remembering life before the war.

They happened less at home, surrounded by memories of a past that never hurt. The outside world was what tortured her. Going outside was like sentencing herself to relive the worst of her life.

And she remembered it all. Hydra had done such a good job of playing Tetris with her brain that every time that Shuri released a trigger, she remembered everything. Y/N bet that Dr. Cecilia was laughing in his grave at her tragedy.

Y/N fell asleep under the thick blanket on the chair of the man she had loved more than anything else in the whole world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N decided to visit the Veterans Center, hoping that they magically had the cure for what Shuri called PTSD. She walked inside and was met with the smell of burnt coffee and laughter down the hall. She followed the noise until she came to what looked like a break room, or a very poor excuse for a kitchen.

A tall man took notice of her and he excused himself to go talk to her.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“I, uhh, came here to talk to someone, hopefully.” Y/N cursed herself for feeling so small. She was a veteran after all. She just fought in a different war.

“Are you a vet?”

“Yes?”

He smiled, “Well then welcome. My name is Sam Wilson. I help run this place. Mostly I work with the people though. Business isn’t really my style.”

Y/N gave a weak smile.

Sam spoke up again, much to her relief. “Why don’t we go somewhere to talk so we aren’t standing in a door way.”

She merely nodded and followed Sam to a room with foldable chairs and a couple beat up sofas.

After they had sat down, and awkward silence filled the air. Sam cleared his throat, “So what’s your name?”

Y/N took a deep breath and “My name is Y/N”

Sam nodded. “What war did you serve in Y/N?”

She froze, of course she could just answer him. She heard there was a whole museum dedicated to the two oldest people on the planet, so why was it so hard?

“You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t comfortable with it. I’m not going to force you into anything here. It’s a safe place.” The genuinely caring smile on his face helped her relax.

“I fought in World War II.”

Sam looked startled for a second. “Excuse me?”

“I was a nurse with the Red Cross in World War II.”

She watched as Sam’s shoulders dropped. Y/N prepared to fight, to tell him that it was true, without going through the horrors that she had witnessed. She prepared to give him the riot act like she had for every person who hadn’t believed her at the bank and social security office.

Instead, he started laughing. “Man, I wonder how many more of you there are out there,” Sam said between breaths.

The look of confusion on her face must have put more puzzle pieces together for him at how lost she really was.

“You… You actually believe me?”

“Yeah I do! I work with the other two.”

She suddenly felt cold, like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. While Shuri had told her about James, or Bucky, and about Steve and how they both lived in New York in the Avengers Compound, it had never occurred to her that they were so close. So close, yet so far away. Her heart dropped.

“How exactly do you know them? You said you worked with them, so you must be an Avenger I suppose.”

“How much do you know about this time and place?”

She felt, for the first time since she left Wakanda, that someone understood. Only a fraction maybe, but an understanding all the same. Sam somehow knew that she didn’t know much about the present she found herself in. She didn’t really care to learn either though, the world was scary, and she had to face it alone for the first time in her life.

“Not much. I’ve only been off ice for about 9 and a half months now. Most of that was spent in Wakanda, while Shuri worked on getting rid of my triggers.” The more she talked the more Sam’s face filled with understanding and horror and that scared her.

“You were captured by Hydra weren’t you?”

All she could do was nod, her head held low.

“I won’t ask about that. I know better than that. I can’t even begin to imagine the horrors you’ve been through.

“Well, I’m the Falcon, I fly and I see things really well with my goggles. Other than that I’m just a human, no serum or anything.”

It was like all she could do was nod her head, she had been robbed of words.

“Would it be ok if I went home?”

“Of course! Nothing is keeping you here. I’m glad we met, and you’re more than welcome to come by anytime at all. We do close at 9 pm, but here’s my phone number if you need anything after those hours.”

More nodding. Y/N rushed home.

The first thing she did was climb into the chair, drape the blanket over her, and tell a ghost of what happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sam are you ok? You seem distracted today”

“Yeah. Yeah man I’m good.” Sam looked at Steve for a minute. “Say have you ever met someone named Y/N L/N? She came into the VA today and when I asked what war she fought in she said WWII. She was captured by Hydra. I didn’t press her on it, she got that same look that Bucky does when it gets brought up.”

Steve froze. “What was her name?”

“Y/N L/N, do you know her?”

“Are you sure about what you told me?”

“Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”

“What did she look like?”

“She had H/L hair and E/C eyes. She was about yay-tall” Sam held up a hand to about her height. “Again, do you know her?”

“I promise I’ll tell you later, but I gotta go.”

Steve took off running through the compound until he got to Bucky’s door. He hadn’t seen Bucky since the museum, but this was important. He pounded on the door, “Buck! Bucky! Open the door!”

A quiet mumbled “Go away Steve” came as a response.

“Bucky,” Steve pleaded. “She’s alive. Sam met her today.”

Silence.

Then the door opened. “Where?”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fic #mcu #x reader #x female reader #marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes au #reader insert #mcu imagine #marvel universe #the avengers

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colossal-fallout · 3 years

Note

Would you do a hanji x reader where the reader has come back after being missing beyond the walls and it’s all sub loud hanji or not dw if not xx

Oh, I love this ~ 🔥

Return to me...

GN reader X Hanji

Warnings: 18+ - slight angst- smut - fluff

Hanji's eyes opened slowly; her head against the desk where she'd, once again, crashed and burned into an exhausted slumber.

Her body ached and her limbs were heavy. But she didn't move. She kept her head stationed on the surface of the wood, no doubt having the scattered papers beneath stuck to her skin. She didn't want to move. Her flame had been totally extinguished. She tried to lie to herself and say it was because she was so tired.

But she knew.

Her body ached and her mind was hazy because she was hurting. Hurting because you hadn't returned from your mission and were officially declared missing.

She'd been in the Titan slaying business long enough now to know that "missing" just meant you're in a stomach. Maybe a limb here and there, if you were lucky enough to die between its teeth before being swallowed.

She was harsh on herself.

How dare she feel so defeated from this after everything she'd been through, after all she had already lost. Why was she so broken because one friend didn't return to her hopeful arms?

But you hadn't just been a friend. You were her lover.

With her view still horizontal, her beautiful chestnut eyes flickered over to the candle that was a little closer to her head than she liked.

Still, she didn't move.

Judging from the melting wax she'd been asleep for four hours, rendering it around 3am. The thought of another long night of swirling thoughts of despair made her eyes begin to water as if someone had just kicked her in the stomach. Hell, she'd rather have Levi kneeing her in the face over and over than feel this spiralling desperation she was becoming all too familiar with.

It was bitterly cruel that no one had noticed something was terribly a miss. Hanji often sealed herself away for days on end and neglecting to take care of herself. So the slim chance of her admitting she needed support was snuffed out entirely.

There was only one person who knew she was hurting and that was -

"Section Commander!"

She bolted up right as the door slammed open, confirming her worry that her papers were stuck to her face, probably smearing the ink.

"You're not going to believe this!" He barked loudly, his face serious and his hand clanched as adrenaline coursed through his veins. "Y/N's squad has returned!"

"...What?" She whispered, the papers floating down from her skin.

Her body was present in the room while you filed your reports of what happened out there, but her mind and heart were still adamant this was a dream.

You were unhamed. Alive. Breathing.

Levi, Erwin, Miche, Nanaba... The room was full but she only saw you.

"We were stuck in an abandoned building and were surrounded." You explained after you'd been checked over medically, fed and washed.

"We knew if we waited until after the sun sets we could move out. But thanks to Hanji's research, we knew that it would vary on the Titan how long it would take for them to become totally docile."

You flash her a gorgeous smile, your eyes filled with appreciation and longing. You hadn't really had time to become reunited just yet.

Dazed, Hanji returned to her office. You still had a lot to do and she was just glad you were still here on this cruel planet with her.

She began tidying the papers that were scattered all across the desk when her door opened - then shut again.

"I'm busy." She muttered not having the emotional strength to see anyone right now.

"Hanji..." Your smooth voice echos over to her.

Her eyes widen and she spins around, her heart beating doubletime.

Without a word, you strutted over to her, pulling your cloak to the floor with one swift movement, crashing your lips against hers.

A whimper left her lungs as she instantly crumbled at your touch, not just her body yearning for you, but her soul.

You didn't know if it was the second wave of life you've just experienced, the fact you had missed her or what - but you were starving for her.

You grab a fistful of her hair and firmly pull her head back, giving you access to her neck. You inhaled deeply as you devour her neck with your lips. God you missed her scent.

Her breathing rate was already hightened as your free hand relentlessly ran up and down her beautiful shape and onto her petite breast. Your hand then slithers in between a gap where you pull, ripping off her shirt resulting in buttons flying everywhere, clinking off the floor.

"Y/N..." She gasped, still not sure if this was a dream.

"Shh..." You soothe with a coy smile as you unhook her bra. "I'm here now, baby..."

A moan escapes her as you plant your mouth around her breast; sucking, flicking, biting, tasting...

You quickly become more urgent, having possibly had the chance to do this again snuffed out.

"Let me see that pretty mouth around me .." you pant, unzipping your trousers.

She instantly and happily obeyed, her head between your legs as she puts your most intimate area directly into her mouth and begins to work you.

You groan. "There's a good girl... God I missed fucking you."

You glance down, noticing tears streamed down her face from happiness and relief you were here with her once again. It was tragically beautiful. Her lashes fluttered as she went faster more than happy to relish this moment with you.

You grip her hair and buck your hips, her tongue had always been a wonder.

"Fuck, Hanji..." You breathe, your face warming. "You're such a good girl..."

Deciding you'd had enough you pick her up with ease and sit her onto the desk, pulling her trousers off along with her underwear.

You relish at the sight of her naked before you, her gorgeous pussy already gleaming with arousal, splayed on the surface for you like a freshly prepared meal.

Her face was reddening as she became desperate for your touch as you watched her, slowly stroking yourself.

"P-please, Y/N... Take me." She begged in a breathy whisper.

More than happy to oblige you dig your fingers into her thighs as you take your warm tongue and run it up her slit, her taste almost intoxicating.

She instantly let out a loud cry, one that was music to your ears and that you had missed. She had such a sensitive cunt and you knew all the right places to touch.

Her hands grabbed your hair as you lightly circled her clit with the tip of your tongue, painfully slowly. She clasped her thighs shut, trapping your head and she bucked her hips, whimpering loudly.

"So needy..." You smirk.

You spread her lips open with your fingers and you see her tight insides flexing, trying to grab onto any part of you it could.

She was already glistening with sweat.

"Oh princess. I'm just getting started." You frown before you plunge your two fingers inside of her, curling them and rocking her back and forth, her clit resubmerged in your mouth.

"Ah ~ !" She cried out loudly, her fingertips digging into your head. "Ah ~ ahh!"

Her face is totally flushed red. You liked to compare it to when she gets excited by Titans. The way her face goes crimson and her eyes widen and her breath staggers... That's exactly how she is now.

You vary the pressure in your fingers, her cries of passion echoing loudly around the room. Her vocals were desperate, hungry yet pleading all at the same time.

"That's right..." You groan into her. "Let everyone know who's back."

The authority in your voice hurled her right off the edge. She begins to writhe under your mercy.

"Y/N! I'm going... to..." Her thighs begin to quiver. "Please don't... Stop!"

Her head throws back, her eyes in the back of her head her gorgeous tits bouncing with each thrust of your arm. Her insides pull you in deeper and deeper, the loud squelching sounds like music to your ears as shes lost in her golden moment.

You hiss as small spurts of liquid shoot down your forearm, slowing to a stop and tasting your fingers as she floats back down to earth.

Without letting her recover, you slide your tongue down her throat letting her taste herself from you and you immediately return to circling her overstimulated clit.

She pulls at her hair, writhing, a total mess as white hot pleasure surges through her.

"That's it... Keep it going..." You coax her with encouragement. "Tell me who makes you feel good..."

"Ah! Y/N! Yes! Yes! Oh GOD, YES!" she sobs loudly. "Don't ever. .. stop!"

Your fingers return to her insides, her glistening body squirming beneath you as she cries out profanities; snaking her body around on the desk, back arching.

"You're a mess." You comment. "My mess."

"All... Yours...! P-please! Y/N!" She pleads with you as she's pushed through the delicious discomfort of over stimulation into another orgasm.

Her cry goes higher and higher in pitch as she cums again, until it's inaudible to human ears, her tongue lulls out of her mouth as more gushing liquid spurts down your arm.

"Good. Cum for me." You demand within your panting.

She's feral and spent at the same time after she's finished, pulling you down over her and kissing you deeply.

"I need you. Please, Y/N." Her gorgeous chocolate eyes are heavy lidded as you line up your sex with hers, waves of heat rolling out of her, engulfing you.

You thrust harshly, your desires now burning too brightly to take your time, grabbing her hips as the friction between you is slick with her cum.

Her groans are deeper now, unable to even lift her head as she just lets you carry her back into ecstasy with your movements.

Your primal desires are stripped bare, grabbing her head and hunching your back thrusting deeply and quickly, grunts passing your mouth. You needed to cum.

Your ears are stuffed with her loud cries, her nails clawing at your back greedily, pulling you as close as possible as you feel yourself losing it and edging into your own piece of heaven.

"Fuck!" You bark as you're taken away; her screams beneath you becoming muffled as you both swirl in the heavens together.

Collapsing onto her panting, she quakes and tremors under your body while you pepper her wet skin with kisses.

"I've missed you..." She whispers half dazed.

Two floors above Captain Levi is lying on his bed, eyes wide in almost horror.

No fuckin' wonder I can't get any sleep around here...

I hope you enjoyed this. My computer is still being fixed so it had to be done on my phone, hope it wasn't too terrible.

Gosh, Hanji is hot. 💦🔥

#snk #snk imagines #attack on titan #snk headcanons #attack on titan x you #snk fandom #snk season 4 #snk hange #hange zoe #smut rp #snk hanji #hange zoë #request #snk x reader #snkgraphic

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believeitseeitdoit · 3 years

Text

A Defiled Uniform

Steve x reader x Bucky , Steve Rogers x reader , Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: the boys find a particular garment in your stuff, and set out to fulfill an old fantasy in the bedroom

Rating: 18+, don’t touch this if you are under age please, and sweet Jesus wrap it up folks,

Warnings: CW brief discussion of religion and old style school punishments, SMUT, 3 some, if it isn’t your style, don’t read (I’ll be less offended if you ignore it than if you read it and get cranky), blowjobs, spanking, man on man kissing, dirty talk, language, teacher kink … let me clarify the reader is 100% of age and consenting to the scene!!!

The boys are helping you pack up your apartment so you can move to the compound up North with them. Natasha is helping you wrap dishes in the kitchen while Steve and Bucky tuck your clothes into suitcases from your closet. Classic rock plays throughout, windows open letting fresh air flow, and you can hear Sam bickering with the spiderling about what order to pack your furniture into the moving truck. Nat hands you another champagne flute from the top rack when you hear Bucky call your name.

“Y/N! When did you get all these shirts?! You literally wear 3! And since when do you wear so many shoes???” He yells from the closet, tossing your stuff at Steve, who patiently chuckles and sets them down in his organized fashion.

“It’s called variety, Buck, you’re not a woman on undercover missions. I need options!” You chirp back at him and set the wrapped plate into the box.

Bucky continues to mutter over your items and sighs happily when he can finally see the other side wall of the closet. Only 2 hangers left to go, he thinks gratefully. He grads an aged, faded green hoodie with your university logo and puts it to his nose so he can soak up your scent on it. Your choice fabric softener and hints of your favorite perfume, Black Opium, waft through and he thinks fondly of how much he loves those scents. Tossing the top to his best man, Bucky grabs at the last hanger. Huh, never seen this skirt before, he thinks while holding it up to the light.

“Hey Stevie, have you ever seen her wear this? Looks awful small for mission gear.” Bucky aims the skirt at Steve, giving it a gentle shake for dramatic effect.

“No, Buck, can’t say I have. You know what it reminds me of though? Those uniforms they used to wear at the all girls school across the road from the park back in Brooklyn.” Steve looks from the clothing to his boyfriend suggestively.

“Oh yeah! Those nuns sure kept the girls in line, remember the stories Dot and Molly would tell us about the rulers and paddles? Shit today that’s corporal punishment!” Bucky pulls the skirt off the hanger and folds it, placing the garment in your overnight bag rather than the suitcase.

“You gonna do something with that?” Steve nods to the new addition to your bag.

“Just gonna ask a question later is all Stevie.” Bucky winks at his partner and smiles.

Later that evening, the apartment is signed away and no longer your monster to manage, and the three of you are celebrating the next step in your relationship and life with your men. Lounging on the couch between them, your back against Steve and your legs curled up on top of Bucky’s, sipping a whiskey coke. Steve reaches to your chin and tips it up to place a chaste kiss on your lips, while Bucky rubs up and down your calves softly. You return his peck by sliding your tongue across his teeth, asking for permission to deepen the kiss. As he obliges, he lets his hands drift around your waist to rub your breasts and knead at the full flesh.

In your lustful haze, you hear Bucky speak up. “So where in hell did a good Catholic student learn how to kiss like that? I’m pretty sure they didn’t teach you how to moan like that in school princess.” His eyes are dark with desire and he rests his hands on your knees, locking them in place. You turn your eyes away from one man to the other, bewildered and slightly warm.

“What do you mean Bucky?” You ask with genuine uncertainty. Regardless of the commentary, your arousal grows with the ministrations from both your lovers.

“Well see doll, we did a little research today while you were unpacking. Shield likes to keep full files, and boy was it satisfying to learn that our sweet girl was an innocent little catholic school student. Went to church twice a week and everything.”

Steve whispers in your ear while rubbing a nipple between his fingers.

“And what better detail to find than your old uniform hanging in the closet. Blue is really our favorite color princess.” Bucky adds while snaking his vibranium hand up the inside of your thigh. He ghosts a finger across the seam of your panties, and gives them a quick snapping tug.

You turn to hide your head in the couch cushions, an attempt to cover the blush spreading across your cheeks. They weren’t supposed to find it! How could you slip up with that , as a SHIELD agent??! That fantasy was to remain deeply hidden.

“Don’t hide princess, we want to see that face when Steve tells you what happens next.” Bucky continues working your mound with his metal arm while he previews the future of the evening.

“Now sweet girl, you are going to go upstairs and open your overnight bag. You are to strip out of these clothes, put on the items in there, NOTHING else. Understand me?” Steve’s voice drops an octave as his mind shifts toward his dominant state.

“When you’re ready, I want you to sit at the desk, ready for the bell to ring.” Bucky adds his request as you nodded toward the blonde.

You swing your legs off the couch, palms sweaty with the anticipation of fulfilling the fantasy of defilling such a symbol of purity and innocence. As you turn away from your boyfriends and head to complete your task, each man takes a palm to your ass and smiles. You yelp, and scurry to the bedroom to find your drag bag placed at the foot of the bed. With shaking hands you peel the zipper apart to pull out your wardrobe. A white button down blouse, white ankle socks, the soon to be defamed plaid skirt, and the most ridiculously padded fire engine red bra you’d ever seen. With a chuckle, you peel off one layer of clothes and begin re dressing with the second. Not knowing how much time you have until the “class” begins, you hastily throw your hair into a ponytail and slap a little lip stain on before sliding into the large desk chair and crossing your ankles.

Moments later, you hear heavy boots scuff the floor and the stairs creak under the weight of two super soldiers. Your thoughts drift to dirty places and you imagine seeing bucky’s vibranium hand slide under the skirt while Steve massages your flushed and heavy tits through the top half of your given uniform. A shrill school bell pierces your thoughts and a heavy thud from the door forces your eyes up.

“Now who do we have here? Looks like Miss Y/L/N was sent in for a dress code violation. Mr. Rogers, would you please identify the specifics on why you have sent this young lady to my office?” Bucky looks you up and down as if he were stalking his prey.

Steve looks over his reading glasses and gives you a once over. “Well Mr. Barnes, this young lady clearly has no respect for the rules. I guarantee that skirt is far too short, bet you can see her backside if she stands up.” He begins to circle you as well, and pulls at your blouse. “This shirt is practically transparent, I’d say that’s a bra redder than a sunburn on the Fourth of July.” He grabs a strap and allows it to snap sharply back against your shoulder.

Bucky reaches out to you, asking for your hand. “Now young lady, I am a pretty lenient man, but disrespecting the code of conduct is an inexcusable offense. Mr.Rogers didn’t even mention that lipstick you have on. I happen to know for a fact your lips are not that shade of plum.” He swipes a thumb across your lips to smear the stain. “I think we should allow him to assist in your punishment since he had to leave his duties to discuss this with us.”

“I haven’t used a ruler on this one yet, will that suffice Mr.. Barnes ? She looks a bit delicate for much else.” Steve comes up behind you and begins to caress your thighs, not yet going past the skirt.

“I think a palm should get the point across rather eloquently, perhaps 10?.” Bucky keeps hold of your hand and reaches for your other to pull you close to him.

Steve releases your legs and allows Bucky to take you away. With his vibranium hand, Bucky pulls you to the opposite side of the desk, and leans you across it bringing your chest flush against the mahogany. As he releases your hands he whispers in your ear. “Now princess, I want you to count them and just maybe this will be your punishment for not telling us about your dreams sooner.”

Your thighs clench as a wave of wetness rushes through you, and your breath comes in pants as you hear the pair of them come to face each other over you. Bucky grabs your hands again, and brings them together in front of you so he can hold you down, while Steve runs a hand up your legs and slots one of his between your knees.

“I knew this tight ass couldn’t hide under that skirt, such a bad girl princess,” Steve says as he pushes the skirt over the globes and gives each one a squeeze. “Damn Bucky, can you tell how turned on she is? Dripping all over the place, ready to cum still all dressed up.” He continues kneading your backside while ignoring your moans and wiggling frame.

“Wait til you’ve finished her punishment, bet she’ll be ripe and sweet like a peach for us to taste Stevie.” Bucky growls as he pushes you back down onto the table.

Distracted by Bucky’s words and touch, you nearly miss the sound of air moving as Steve’s palm cuts through it toward your ass. You Yelp again, and whimper at the prospect of not sitting for a week. Bucky taps on your shoulder, reminding you of your duty. “What did I ask you to do princess? Are you going to be a good girl and count for us?”

“Yes, One Sergeant.” You groan out the count.

Another smack comes down to the same spot, right above the crest of your cheek. You gasp into the desk and suck in a breath from the sting. “Two Sergeant.”

Steve continues doling out your punishment to your backside, by the time he hits nine tears are welling in your eyes from the sting and pleasure building in you. Your legs are shaking with effort from standing and your voice is wrecked from garbled use.

“Ten, Sergeant. Thank you Sir.” You whisper after Steve finishes his smacks and begins to rub the marks in soothing circles.

“Good job princess, you did that so well, now it’s time for your reward.” Bucky releases your arms and Steve pulls you up from the desk, the pair of them sandwiching you between them as you all move toward the bed. Your blouse is pulled over your head between frantic kisses with Steve, while Bucky strips his clothes. As they switch positions, you go to unzip the skirt and wrap your legs around Bucky, but he catches your hand and yanks it behind your back.

“Who said you were allowed to take that off? Class is in session, and you must be ready to learn.” His eyes glow with desire as he leans in to kiss you.

Once Steve has rid himself of his clothes, he returns to the bed and comes to lay behind you as Bucky sits you up. “Today’s lesson princess, is the art of how to keep sucking while you cum.” Steve is stroking his member while watching your eyes roll shut with want as he explains the plan to you. Bucky houses you forward into Steve’s chest and pulls your backside to him.

“Damn Stevie, those handprints won’t be gone for a week. She’ll have to find a softer surface to sit on.” He admires his boyfriend’s handiwork while getting his girl set. With your head down and ass up, Bucky slides his flesh hand between your thighs and begins to run two fingers along the outside of your slit. Using your arousal to coat his fingers, Bucky pushes two inside you and begins to work them slowly. He picks up speed as you begin moaning and looks up at his partners nodding to Steve to fill you from the other end.

As Bucky’s fingers move against your walls with vigor, you moan and writhe seeking out more friction on your clit. Steve takes the opportunity to place his hard cock against your open lips, and waits for you to begin sucking. No motivation needed, you lean into his groin and take him in one swallow. Moving your head back and forth, you swirl your tongue against the shaft, and as Bucky adds a third finger to your pussy, you let a moan vibrate through your body, sending a secondary shiver through Steve as well. You relax your jaw and allow Steve to begin fucking into your mouth as his own release builds, the sounds of skin slapping and your muffled moans driving him wild with want. Bucky withdraws his fingers and reaches under you to lift you higher onto your knees. With this motion, Steve lifts into a kneel of his own and makes eye contact with his boyfriend. You pay them no mind as greedily sucking down your boyfriend's dick takes precedence and the prospect of getting fucked by the other makes you giddy with anticipation.

Bucky grabs a fistful of your skirt and slams your ass into his hips, setting your pussy ablaze with the slide of his thick curved cock against your walls. You groan against Steve’s painfully hard member, and before you can take him all he grabs your ponytail and pulls you off. Bucky’s brutally fast and deep pace has you close to the crest and Steve wants you to remember the rule of the scene.

“What did we say about today princess, you need to be able to keep sucking my cock while Bucky makes you come. Don’t stop, go it?” He wraps his hand in the ponytail and as you nod he allows you to take him in your mouth again.

Bucky’s thrusts are getting frantic as he chases everyone's peaks, and he reaches his vibranium hand to your clit while grabbing Steve with his opposite hand to pull him in for a hard kiss. Both men are panting as they pound into you from both sides, a hand touching each body as your body grows tight with the desire to orgasm. Bucky pinches your pearl and he tells you to come, giving a final hard thrust as he feels your walls clench around him. Like a rubber band, you snap into oblivion, no longer aware of what occurs beyond the throbbing in your pussy and the perfect fullness that surrounds you. You feel the waves of pleasure crash through you, and still both men continue their chase. Hypersensitive and fuzzy, you relax your jaw again and take Steve all the way to the hilt, and you bob your head quickly, sealing your lips around his large base trying to finish him off. Bucky’s thrusts have gone shallow as your walls have him locked like a vice, but you feel him begin to shatter as well. With a final thrust from both men, they spill into you with heavy grunts.

Bucky pulls out of you and Steve lifts you off his softened member, laying you onto the pillows.

“Did we properly defile the uniform, princess?” Steve kisses your forehead as Bucky pulls the garment off you with a smile.

“Yes Sergeant. Thank you Sir.” You nod sleepily, thank each man, and curl into their frames as Bucky climbs under the sheets. “If I had had either of you for teachers, it would have been a shameful garment way sooner,” you chuckle as they share a kiss above you.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel #stevebucky #steve rogers #steve x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes #stucky #smut

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thatphatoven · 3 years

Text

The Little Mechanic

Childe x female mechanic reader

Prologue

A mechanic from Snezhnaya reunites with a childhood friend.

AN; The prologue is a bit confusing since two stories were told at the same time; I did that to make it more interesting and wanted a flashback with your fellow companion. Also, this is my first story that I'm playing around with, so some parts might change, but that really depends.

word count; 1,328

Unedited

The cold misty morning nipped your skin as the sound of chirping played their familiar melody. Huffing, you leaned forward, gripping the straps of the hefty leather backpack. On the right side of your hip, dangling proud, was the purple electro vision swaying back and forth with your steps. Liyue ruins were bizarrely calm at this hour, with the lack of destruction from the Fatui or the abyss order itching to kill whoever was there. Only nature at its finest reclaiming territory. Grinning, you leaped the last couple of steps; to be greeted by the vast land of mountains as the wind dance around you.

Liyue was definitely different from Snezhnaya.

Instead of the endless snow from Tsaritsa, Rex Lapis gifted Liyue with beautiful forms of rocks, along with historical battles hidden deep in these ruin lands. Anyone greedy for riches only dares to explore these areas, but not you. The badge of a hammer stitched on your newspaper cap tells a different story. You were just a nameless mechanic shooting your shot in a bustling nation. Though not everything comes cheap. Living accommodations were hard enough to pay, but haggling for overpriced supplies was another finance. Besides, why waste time on that when the remains of an old society are available for you to seize.

"Must we walk all this way?" Wheezing, a little blue mage pushed himself to the last step. Leaning forward, the wand in his hand carried half of his weight as he pants in exhaustion. "Sorry, but you know how badly I want to see the view," you spoke. Unclasping your bag from your back, you handed him a bottle of water. "stay hydrated, midget" "I can't have you dying on me now, or I'll have to drag you back to the inn. "

"I hate you."

You smiled at his words as he chugged the remaining drops of water. Meeting Gever was an accidental blessing. Aside from being a full-time mechanic, once in a while, you did some odd commissions from the adventures guild to earn a quick buck, like Lan's request to locate the unseen razor or typically clear out a hilichurl camp. After a yet failed attempt searching for the sword, you witness a hoard of abyss mages hovering over a chest. Doing their usual chants, and rituals one particular was chanting away from the group. How odd.

What was more abnormal was that it didn't have a shield to protect itself. His steps were also off from everyone else; somehow, though, he manages to keep up. Deciding it was time to leave, a blonde-headed girl trek towards them while catching their attention. Startled, they all pointed their wands in her direction, preparing her demise. Throwing shards of ice and water at her, she began her attacks with boulders of rocks as her protection. That abnormal abyss mage watched from its spot. Its body trembles at the sight of its comrades meeting their faith. Suddenly he ran, his little legs pushed forward to your direction, not knowing another human was there, instantly slamming into you.

"Stay back, or I'll hurt you" it pointed the end of its wand at you.

"Hey, greasy! You lost your hearing?" snapping out of your daze; you looked at your companion approaching. "Seriously though, it would be better leaving me back in the inn so that I can be safe from everyone," Gever complained. "If I did, then who else can help me carry all of the chaos circuits?" "Maybe that Guhan nerd?" he grumbled, kicking a pebble out of annoyance.

"He'll bother me with questions and bring that exorcist with him; I can't add more baggage when you fill the entire bag." "And beside the inn will probably send me to the millelith for hosting a little fugitive." "Let's just get this over and done with." sighing, he trek ahead of you, with his shoulder sagging. You followed behind, shaking your head at his actions.

"Hurt me?" crossing your arms; you stared at the abyss mage with boredom. "Don't take this as a joke, you-you stubborn weakling!!!" the mage stomped his feet on the ground, gripping tightly on the staff. "If I remember correctly? I'm not the one who ran away from battle" "Well, uh, because I'm not prepared to fight" "Alright."

You shrugged and turned around from the harmless being and began your journey back to Liyue. "W-wait!" he cried. Dropping on his knees, he wailed, "I know I shouldn't trust a stranger, but also a human. I'm just weak and extremely terrified of being alone." "If you can tell, I can't create a shield, and my chants are weak against a slime nevertheless a magicless civilian." staring back at the field of destruction, the young adventurer stood triumph looting the chest the mages possessively guarded. The fight was an exciting show, especially how a visionless traveler was able to use the power of Geo, but it was the way she played with bladed caught your attention. It wasn't the skill she controls that scared you. Instead, it was the locked-up memories from the past that resurfaced.

The afternoon fell on you and Gever, and the entire time, the little mage complained.

"My feet hurt" "I'm not carrying you."

"Can we take a five-minute break?" "We had one a minute ago."

"Just to let you know, I can't use any cool spells to protect us" "Yes, you told me this before we left."

Shaded under a sunsettia tree, both of you were sitting outside the abandoned laboratory munching on the fruit. The ruins in front of you were notorious for their scrapes and the abandoned research lab for the eleventh harbinger Dottore. The fluid of a sunsettia landed on your blue overalls as you stared at the entrance. Something wasn't right. Signs of other lives indicated you and Gever wouldn't be exploring alone. The path had fresh shoe prints of not only two adults but also a child. If you also look close to the doorway, it was slightly ajar.

"let's go," adjusting the backpack on your shoulders. You helped Gever on his feet as he started his new list of complaints. "Are you sure I should go in? What if a ruin guard squishes me?" "Then I'll replace you with Xingqui" "You are a cruel mechanic." He stuck to your legs as you entered the domain. Whoever was here definitely assist you in lighting the area. Vines covered the walls, with the occasional branches hampering your path. Sounds of the machinery moved in beat, stopping every second only to start again. Once in a while, you pause to loot crates digging for good resources. It was the sound of laughter that made you froze. "We're gonna die!!" Gever, he exclaimed in a whisper. His grasp on your leg tightens much more, frantically searching for the source. "Ignore that; maybe it's just a ruin guard oil that needs to be replaced." You went back to your mini raid. More on edge, the little mage closed his eyes and began his count to ten.

"Teucer!"

The chaos circuit once in your hand fell, now laid on the ground. Your eyes widen at that voice; it held so much mischief and love—Ocen blue eyes. Yes, those innocent pupils that carry the world just for you and him. Shuddering, you grabbed Gever arm and pulled him back to your arrival. If he was here, then more pain will emerge. The mage appeared to be more relieved at your sudden decision. Why was he here? The Fatui long gone don't roam this area mainly for there are way too many active ruin guards alive. The entrance was close, bits of lights shone beneath the door.

"Big sister (Y/N)!"

A cheerful tone paralyzed you. Suddenly more footsteps joined the young boy, a small gasp escape the male behind his brother. Turning around, your eyes met with the same baby blue eyes from all those childhood years ago.

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not-close-to-straight · 3 years

Text

Lost (Spideypool)

(Guess which story this is a sequel to??)

The archeological dig site was more impressive than the kid thought it would, though still no where near the level of comfort of the high rise penthouse apartment he’d left behind in Manhattan.

It didn’t seem possible for there to be so much mud in one damn place, and he groaned as his bright white sneakers sank into the ooze and stuck. The sun was bright, there was at least a billion mosquitos in the air, it was hot and humid and everything smelled like the nearby river and the stink of research assistants gone too long with out a shower.

It was terrible.

Despite the well constructed living quarters, clearly labeled kitchen facilities, ventilated artifact collection sites and what looked like impressively modern shower rooms towards the tree line, the dig was still... rustic....if rustic was the right word to describe the actual complete opposite of what he’d hoped his summer plans would include.

From Peter: Remind me again how digging for pottery is going to help me build character? Just because Grandpa Howard made you do this doesn’t mean I should have to. There was nothing wrong with my plans to go to Cancun, alright? I would have brushed up on my Spanish, spent all summer swimming... how is playing in the mud better?

From Dad: Buck up, Kiddo. I survived and so will you

From Peter: You survived because Pops literally carried you out of here on his back after you messed up your designer suit

From Dad: I resent that. Ask your Pops about the slingshot grenades. Pretty sure I saved his giant ass.

“Christ.” Peter put his phone away and dragged both hands through his hair. “Could’a gone to Cancun. Could definitely not be here getting malaria cos my Dad’s met and fell in love in some psycho turn of events.”

“Hey!” a sharp whistle from the runway, and Peter tried his best to turn in the thick mud to see what the person wanted. “You just gonna stand there all day or are you gonna get that perky ass in gear and unload these boxes? I got places to be!”

“Oh I don’t--” Peter shook his head quickly. “I don’t work here--”

“If you’re standing here, you work here.” The guy was wearing fatigues in the same sort of pattern that Uncle Bucky’s employees wore, but Peter was less focused on that and more focused on how the guy was balancing a heavy box on each shoulder, biceps straining around the weight and big hands splayed wide to keep his grip.

...wow.

“Hey!” another sharp whistle and Peter jumped. “Stop staring at my guns and go get a box! I’ve got half an hour to get this shit refueled and gone again, let’s go sweet cheeks!”

“Yeah, I don’t really haul boxes?” Peter hesitated. “I don’t know if you know who I am but my Dad’s sort of own this place and I’m just here to learn a little bit.”

“Uh huh, why don’t you start by learning some manual labor.” Up close the guy was even bigger, but Peter’s attention was caught by the faint lines of scars up and down the soldier’s arms and criss crossing up his neck. “You’re Stark’s boy?”

“Stark-Rogers.” Peter corrected immediately. “Yes, and how did you--”

--he stopped when the ground shifted beneath their feet and a low rumble came from the hills behind the camp.

“What the hell was that?” he asked slowly. “There’s hardly ever recorded seismic activity on this side of the continent, everything earthquake related stays towards the coast on the Pacific.”

“Yeah, you’re Stark’s kid alright. All big eyes and quoting facts nobody needs to know.” the soldier looked Peter over again, something unreadable glimmering in his hazel eyes. “What you just felt is the result of unregulated mining attempts in the hills out here. They’re blasting down deep trying to find something valuable and it’s upsetting the stability of the entire region.”

“The dig site--”

“--is sinking as the ground gets more unstable.” he confirmed. “That’s why we’re rushing trying to save everything. Buck tells me they’ve been working this place for thirty years now and still haven’t collected it all, but they’re running out of time.”

“My Dad’s sent me to a sinking archeological dig site to die of malaria and earthquakes?!” Peter shouted. “What the fuck!? What are we supposed to do?!”

“Take ten to twenty percent off the top there, bud.” came the dry answer. “We’re supposed to load and unload these planes just as fast as we can manage before the mountain over there collapses in on itself and buries us under a few hundred tons of mud and rocks and washes this all out to the river. Get to work.”

“I--”

“Get to work.”

“Fine.” Peter swallowed, unstuck his no longer bright white shoes from the mud and followed the guy back to the plane. “I’m Peter by the way. Peter Stark-Rogers.”

“Wade Wilson. “ the soldier grunted. “I work for the Bronco’s unit. Security, assassinations and now apparently babysitting.”

“Babysitting?”

“Your ‘Uncle Bucky’ reassigned me from a cushy job overseas and planted my ass here to make sure nothing happened to his nephew.” Wade tossed Peter a duffel bag that weighed almost as much as he did. “I’ve been here a month waiting for you to show up. Everyone’s gettin’ real restless with the mining going on and the risk of losing everything they’ve dug up. There’s been a few attacks on the mining camps, some retaliation-- nobody’s happy about the situation and me and a few others have been trying to keep the peace.”

The ground rumbled again and the muscle in Wade’s jaw ticked as he ground his teeth together. “A month ago I felt one of those a week, now it’s multiple times a day. It’s not good.”

“Are we--” Peter held the bag tight and wet his lips anxiously. “Are we safe?”

“Safe enough.” Wade nodded. “Your Dad’s been fully funding this place for years now, he wouldn’t send you out here if there was any real danger. Don’t worry about it, kid. At least not yet.”

“I’m not a kid, I’m twenty two.”

“Fuckin’ Mazel Tov, bro.”

Peter narrowed his eyes but followed Wade back towards the camp, huffing and puffing as he lugged the huge bag, eyes wide as he tried to take in everything about the archeological dig that had brought his parents together.

Our love was never buried too deep to find. His Pops liked to say, all smooshy and smarmy and gross as he rubbed at the gold ring Tony still wore every day. Maybe you get out there and find an adventure of your own, son. Build some character, get some sun, come home a changed man.

“A changed man.” Peter grumbled when he stepped in something that was most likely not mud judging by the baleful look a nearby horse gave him. “Gonna get lost out here in the goddamn jungle, got a goddamn mine trying to collapse and wash everything down the mountain into the water, got a goddamn soldier calling himself my babysitter--ooph!”

Unexpectedly running into Wade was like unexpectedly running into a brick wall and Peter stumbled backwards and splatted right into the muck.

“Damn it!” he shouted and Wade-- damn him-- definitely cracked a grin before kneeling down in the mud too. “What are you doing? Help me up!”

“Listen here, kid.” Rough fingers grasped Peter’s jaw and he went very very still. “My job is too look out for you, but I’ve got a whole camp full of people to look out for too. If you’re gonna fuss and complain all summer, why don’t you take that cute ass of yours and sit it right back on the plane, cos I don’t have time for this shit.”

“I-- I--”

“If you feel like settling down and doing some good, then get up off the ground and get back to work.” Peter might have imagined the brush of a thumb over his cheek, but he definitely didn’t imagine the way Wade’s gaze dropped to his mouth and lingered. “And if you’re gonna stay, maybe you wear real shoes not pretty city shoes and real pants not whatever this jegging shit is making your legs look all distracting.”

“....are my legs distracting you?” Peter breathed and Wade’s throat worked as he swallowed. “Cos I brought shorts if those would be less distracting.”

“Pretty sure you’d be distracting even in a nun outfit.” The soldier jerked away and stood abruptly. “Get up and get going, honey bunches. We’ve got a lot to do before I even give you a tour of the camp and introduce you to the researchers. Back to the plane for more gear, c’mon.”

“Sure, sure.” Peter scrambled to his feet and made a half hearted attempt to wipe the dirt from his clothes. “So. Wade. Why did you call my Uncle Bucky the Bronco?”

“Oh ho ho that is not a conversation we are having, small fry. Absolute not. Move past the question.”

“But--”

“Move past the question!”

#spideypool #stony

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

Opposition of the Stars || (Ezra x Reader) || [smut] || {Moonbeams}

Title: Opposition of the Stars Rating: Explicit Length: 2,700 Warnings: Smut (blowjob) and mild angst Reader Details: To the best of my knowledge, there are no references to Reader’s physical details, beyond being a bisexual woman. I tried my best to keep it as vague as possible. Notes: Oops, cliffhanger! Part six of the Moonbeams series.

Taglist: @princessbatears @djarin-junk @absurdthirst @hdlynn @legally-a-bastard @opheliaelysia @heather-lynn @sabinemorans @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @pedrospunk @maybege @chews-erotically @katlikeme @lose-eels @youmeanmybrain @theindiealto @irishleesh93 @seawhisperer @hdlynn @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @theindiealto @grapemama @roxypeanut @kochamcie @kiwi-the-first @hellomothermoon @soft-fanfics @spacegayofficial @storiesofthefandomlovers @kindablackenedsuperhero @goblinqueen95 @nominalnebula @wheresthewater @letmybabysleep @hayley-the-comet Hopefully I got everyone!

“I recognize this name,” Ezra announced as he thrust the datapad back in your direction. “Proctor. There’s a young woman with the... the pack.” Ezra scratched at his jaw as he stared at you. “She’s one of the younger ones.”

Your brows furrowed as you stared at the datapad, “He would’ve been here for the first time perhaps sixteen years ago?”

Ezra hummed, “She looks about sixteen.”

“So this Proctor might have a child here?” You questioned, dragging his fingers through his hair. “Is she like you?”

He tilted his head, “Yes.” Ezra’s eyes flickered from your face to your stomach and you felt it roil with nerves in response.

“I have the stim.” You reminded him, touching the slightly raised spot on your arm. “We are still two years out before its due for replacement.”

Ezra worked his jaw slowly, “I hadn’t even considered the possibility. I assumed the curse would make it an incompatible match.” He let out an exhausted sigh. “And he’s dead?”

“Quinn was able to track down some information from the mining corp.” You explained, giving Ezra a sideways look as he slid his arm around your back, grabbing tightly at your hip in response to Quinn’s name being mentioned. “It appears that Proctor was part of a venture to study the resource potential of Lykaois and Arcadia. But he failed to comply with his contract and used the corp money to fund his…” Your brows furrowed. “I guess, to come see his child.”

Ezra pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he stared at the datapad in your hands. “Did they terminate his contract?”

You nodded. “Quinn loaded in his death certificate.” You swept through the files on the data pad, “Failure to comply.” You read, zooming in on the image of the certificate.

His hand tightened at your hip, “My heart breaks for them. When Proctor left, I’m certain that they believed he would return, just as he had for cycles before. Not knowing if you were safe...” Ezra sighed heavily through his nose. “That’s such a long time to have someone in your life… But such a short time given the constraints here.”

You reached down to curl your hand around his at your hip. “Some people are willing to do anything for the people they care about.”

Ezra turned and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there. “What else did your friend Quinn find for us?”

“So jealous,” You nudged him in the ribs, reaching up to ruffle your fingers through his hair. “And for the record, I don’t know if I told you this before…” You met his gaze. “I dropped out of the program. I know — I know.”

“It will take you three years to reapply.” Ezra said flatly. “And even then, you’ll be at the bottom of the ladder.”

You shrugged. “It seemed worth it.”

“I’m glad you’re not beholden to their coin, but what will you do if something happens, little lamb?”

“Make do.”

He shook his head slowly. “When?”

“After my second trip here.” You admitted, looking down at the datapad. ��I think that decision was part of the reason Shiva thought I had lost my mind. I had just entered the second tier — but it didn’t really matter after Lykaois.” You smiled to yourself. “After you.”

Ezra rested his chin on your shoulder, his warm breath dancing against your neck. “I believe that’s a special kind of madness, little lamb.”

You hummed, before laughing softly. “It is.” You swept your thumb over the screen. “How often do you use the lunaxium?”

“It depends.” He tapped his thumb against your hip. “I use a decent quantity of it — crushed — following the full moon. It helps calm the unease.”

“Allegedly, Arcadia has traces of lunaxium deposits. Perhaps you could travel off world to Arcadia.”

You could feel Ezra’s eyes on you.

“Arcadia has an ocean. Did you know that?”

“Don’t tempt me, cruel mistress.”

You rolled your eyes. “Now that we know the beast won’t maul me to death—“

“It was one time—“

“— we should try visiting Arcadia.”

Ezra grumbled, brushing his lips against the crook of your neck. “I would not sacrifice you for the sea.”

“I’ll continue my research when I go back to the Block.”

“Ezra,” You whispered as you nuzzled your nose against a spot just beneath his ear, your lips brushing against his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

He let out a shaky breath, tilting his face towards you, “You don’t have to, little lamb.” Ezra drawled out, brushing his knuckles against your cheek.

You closed the distance between your faces with a kiss, shifting a little closer to him as you trace your fingers down his chest.

There’s a greedy man beneath this careful façade he’s erected. He tries to come off as unphased, he cloaks his own desires and focuses on yours, and he tries to maintain control. But you’ve seen him slip.

You cupped his cheek, stroking your thumb over his scar, as you drew back with an impish grin. “I want your cock in my mouth.”

Ezra groaned, surging forward to kiss you again. His tongue invaded your mouth, sweeping over the roof of your mouth. You slid your fingers into his hair, tugging at the strands as they slid between your fingers.

“Please,” You breathed out as you broke away from the kiss, pressing open mouthed kisses down his throat. “You’ve taken such good care of me.” You kissed the hollow of his throat, pressing your palms to his chest to roll him over onto his back.

His jaw went to slack as he stared up at you, his hands encircling your hips as you moved to straddle him. “You can do whatever you want with me, moonbeam. I am at your mercy.”

“I plan to take full advantage.” You grinned, taking his hands off your hips and interlacing your fingers with them as you leaned forward and pinned them to the bed above his head.

Ezra tilted his head to gaze at your breasts, a crooked smirk forming at his lips. “I must admit, I am rather fond of this view.”

You laughed softly, giving his hands a squeeze as you stayed in that position, “And what view is that?” You questioned.

Your breath caught in the back of your throat as his mouth brushed over the swell of your breast, his artful tongue sweeping over your taut nipple.

“An hundred years should go to praise thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze. Two hundred to adore each breast, but thirty thousand to the rest.” Ezra drawled out, his breath warm against your skin as he trailed his mouth over the valley of your breasts.

“Marvell?”

Ezra hummed the affirmative against your throat, squeezing your hands back in return. “For, lady, you deserve this state, nor would I love at lower rate.”

You released your hold on his hands, pressing your hand to the mattress beside his shoulder as you pushed yourself down his body.

He was just quoting a line of poetry and yet, your heart was pounding in your chest. Love. Quinn had asked you if you loved him. Shiva had asked too.

Did he love you? Or was it just a beautiful line of poetry that suited the moment?

Instead of dwelling on it, you focused your attention on kissing a line down his chest, nipping at the soft flesh of his stomach beside his belly button.

Ezra’s fingers rested at the back of your head. A groan escaped him as you kissed lower, your thumbs dragging over the lines of his hip bones.

You settled yourself between his legs, running your hands along his inner thighs as you looked up at him. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this.” You told him, loosely curling your fingers around his length.

He jerked beneath your touch, his stomach muscles clenching as his eyes focused on your face. “Are you going to show me how badly you’ve wanted my cock in your mouth, little lamb?”

You felt your cheeks warm as you held his gaze. “You know I am.” You murmured, trailing your lips down the length of his cock, your tongue sweeping out over the soft skin of his sac.

You watched his expression as you dragged your hand over the length of his cock, your thumb sweeping over the bead of moisture that had formed at the tip. “Ezra,” You whispered, catching his eyes as you made a show of licking your thumb.

He groaned out your name.

You smirked as you curled your fingers around the base of his cock and swept your tongue up the length of his erection.

Ezra took such good care of your needs. You had lost count of the number of times he’d buried his face between your thighs or had awoken you with wandering touches.

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, teasing the tip of your tongue over the head.

His hips bucked upwards and he muttered a weak apology seconds after, his fingers grasping at the sheets beneath him.

You moaned as you took the length of his cock into your mouth, taking him in until he hit the back of your throat. You pulled back until just the tip was between your lips, looking up at him through your lashes.

His hand grabbed at your shoulder, his fingers fanning out over your back as you descended back onto his cock. His hips bucked upwards again, driving the length of his cock into your mouth.

“Shit.” He hissed out, his voice hoarse as he spoke, “Moonbeam, let me fuck you. I know you’re ready for me.”

You pressed your palm against his lower stomach, keeping him right where you wanted him as you pulled off his cock, a strand of spit connecting your mouth to him. You met his eyes as you ran your tongue over your bottom lip. “Not until you come for me.”

Ezra swore under his breath, his head falling back against the pillow as he stared up at the ceiling above him. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He admitted, stroking his fingers down the back of your neck.

“I’m not worried about that.” You assured him, curling your hands around his hips to keep him steady. It was only an allusion of control, Ezra was unnaturally strong and your grip wouldn’t control him.

Rather than waiting for another weak protest from him, you parted your lips and took him into your mouth again, swirling your tongue around him. You found a rhythm as you started to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks to create just the right amount of pressure.

Ezra slid his hand down to grab at your hand, groaning out your name again. “My sweet, little lamb—“ His voice cracked.

You looked upwards, watching the pleasure wash over his face as he reached his peak. He squeezed your hand tight, his hips rocking upwards as you worked your lips over his length still.

A soft moan rose up the back of your throat as you swallowed every last drop of him, holding his gaze as you slowly drew back. You smirked at him as you swept your tongue over the head of his cock.

“Come here.” Ezra mumbled, tugging at your hand.

You crawled up the length of his body, straddling his stomach as you leaned over him. “Did you want something?”

Ezra ran his hands down your sides, grinning up at you, “You look like the cat that ate the canary, moonbeam.” He drawled out.

“Are you a canary?” You questioned, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose.

“Perhaps.” He whispered, drawing you in for a needy kiss, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip.

You drew back, brushing your fingers down his cheek as you met his gaze. “Ezra.” You wondered if he could feel how rapidly your heart was beating.

“What is it?”

“My favorite Marvell…” You couldn’t believe this was how you were going to tell him. “It ends with, is the conjunction of the mind and opposition of the stars.”

Ezra blinked slowly, his brow furrowing as he studied you. “The Definition of Love?”

You bit down on your bottom lip and nodded, “I know it’s so soon… but I feel—“

“I feel it too, moonbeam.” Ezra cupped your jaw and drew you back in for another kiss. “I feel it too.”

“I’m afraid to admit that I make for a poor attempt at a mechanic.” Ezra remarked as he wiped his grease covered fingers onto his well-worn fatigues.

“Me too.” You wrinkled your nose as rested your hand on his shoulder and peered down at his work. “I’m going to go check on the external wiring.” You told him, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. “Try not to set anything on fire while I’m gone.”

“It was one spark,” He retorted, catching ahold of your hand before you could slip away. He rubbed his thumb over your palm. “I’m looking forward to setting this up.”

“I can’t wait to talk to you when we’re apart.” You smiled at him, before pulling free of his grip. You grabbed his jacket off the hook on the wall, bundling yourself up before venturing out into the snowy tundra.

The wind was blistering cold as it whipped across your cheeks and you weren’t looking forward to the trek back to your own transport.

You knocked your knuckles against the hull of the vessel as you crouched down to slide under to access the communications antenna. It was outdated, just like you assumed it would be — but not too outdated to serve its purpose.

“Green to yellow.” You reminded yourself, fishing the transponder mod out of your pants pocket. “Yellow to Orange.” You flipped a toggle, releasing the wiring from the panel so you could slot the mod in to boost the output. It wasn’t a perfect patch — but it would work.

You pried the wires out, fingers shaking from the cold as you rerouted the power to the appropriate inputs.

The sound of snow crunching underfoot made you jump a little, but it didn’t deter you from your work. “Don’t distract me.” You hissed out, brows furrowed as the wire slipped out of the port. “You have a steady hand—“ You glanced back and frowned when you didn’t see anyone standing where you thought Ezra would be.

Weird.

You turned your attention back to the dangling set of wires, fishing out a blade from your pocket to peel back the protective covering on the wire.

Something cracked behind you, causing you to jerk and jab the tip of the blade into the center of your palm.

You swore loudly, flipping the knife closed and pocketing it as you watched red blood drip into the brilliant white snow beneath you. It was a shallow cut, but it hurt like a bitch.

A gust of wind blew harshly through the clearing, causing loose snow to whip up off the ground as you turned towards the snow. The snow spun upwards, momentarily blinding you as you squinted into the wind’s path.

Your heart skipped a beat as you spotted a figure looming at the treeline. Cautiously, you started inching towards the front of the transport — trying not to draw attention to you.

All you had to do was get inside and shut the door. Ezra wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

You crept around the side of the vessel, freezing in place as your eyes fell to a fearsome looking wolf crouching near the door. It snarled, teeth bared but it didn’t growl at you.

You took a step backwards, tensing as you felt a presence standing behind you. The hairs at the back of your neck stood on end as you turned around and came face-to-face with a towering stranger.

Your lips parted, prepared to scream, but the man reached out and clamped his hand over your mouth.

You grabbed at his wrist, trying in vain to pull his hand away — but the sweet scent of his gloved hand quickly lulled you unconscious.

#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal ezra #ezra (prospect) x reader

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candychronicles · 4 years

Text

mind control // e. kirishima

A/N: My take on the apocalypse au! this one was so so so fun to write and i hope you all enjoy!!

CHARACTER PAIRING: Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,580

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, semi-public sex, kinda angsty

SYNOPSIS: when the world turns into chaos, you’re there, fighting on the front lines to find a cure. what happens when things go right for once?

Want to read more smutty goodness? Click here !

the world changed on a mild Tuesday afternoon. there had been experiments going around regarding mind control, mind alteration, but things backfired, heavily. test subjects became irate, violent, crazed, and the serum mutated rapidly in the bloodstream. after only a few short weeks, the serum became its own disease, allowing it to rapidly be spread through bite wounds. people hallucinated, overcome by their primal desires to mate and reproduce, to fight and wreak havoc sometimes forgetting to eat or sleep, constantly wired.

the disease spread slowly, people initially thinking that it was just a few loose cannons going off around the world, that nothing was happening. it should’ve been a relatively simple disease to ward off, containing those that were mad until they slowly succumbed to their own desires, but it didn’t happen like that. more and more people were getting bit, and slowly, small outbreaks were popping up around the world. large groups of infected people congregated to fuck and fight, causing rampages in large cities. they had no care for their own wellbeing, not understanding pain, only wanting to destroy and conquer.

police, national guards, militaries and other protective personnel rushed to combat the diseased, ordered to shoot to kill, but in some places there were just too many of them, and they were quickly run down, joining the ranks of the mindless, crazed humans who just wanted to do anything to feel once again and quell the madness in their brains.

you were one of the brightest and best scientists in the country, working hard to cure this strange disease that was man made and yet had a mind of its own alongside Kirishima Eijirou, a disease specialist. together, you tracked the path of the sickness, how the world slowly succumbed to madness in just a few short months as more and more cases popped up and the numbers became overwhelming.

you were one of the lucky few, finding solace in a well protected and well isolated research lab. things were stringent, with blood work, head scans, and other tests to make sure that you were not somehow catching the disease, despite knowing how it worked. after all, they couldn’t afford to have their best researchers getting sick, not when they were working hard and fast on finding some sort of cure or preventative.

breaking down the dna of the disease was the first step in understanding how it was made and how it mutated, followed by what genes were affected, how the disease altered the brain chemistry, and most importantly, how to create a cure. it was long, tedious work, but after months of replicating the dna, breaking down the genomes and isolating the variables, you were finally able to locate what areas of the genes were mutating.

“Eijirou, do you know what this means? we’re one step closer to finding a cure! this is huge, we have to tell the rest of the team right away!”

with your eyes alight with happiness, pearly whites displayed proudly in the form of a wide grin, you had never looked prettier. Kirishima had liked you for a long, long time. how could he not? you were extremely intelligent, could hold your own against anyone, passionate, hard working and undeniably attractive.

in the heat of the moment, with excitement buzzing in the area, he did the one thing he always dreamed of doing: kissed you. at first, you were confused, hands still raised in a cheer, body stiff as a board, but as he began pulling away, you reached forward to wrap your arms around his body, pulling him closer. for a few moments, you two moved back and forth, mouths mashing together in pure ecstasy, high off your success and the feeling of warm lips on your own.

when you went to pull away, his head chased you, high off the feeling of you.

“we shouldn’t be doing this. not here anyways,” you reasoned weakly, putting your hands on his chest in an attempt to both anchor and distance yourself from the man who was grinning like he had won a million bucks.

“why not? no one else is in here besides us. no one even comes in to disturb us, knowing how busy we’ve been working. why can’t we take a few minutes to celebrate our victory, and then bring our results to the doc?”

before you had a chance to respond, his lips were attached to your neck, licking, sucking, biting on your pulse point, eliciting a moan from deep within your chest. you stopped fighting your instincts, instead allowing yourself to enjoy the way his mouth felt on your skin.

Kirishima gripped the back of your thighs tightly before hoisting you up on the lab table, pushing away various instruments and lab samples to make room for your body. your teeth gnashed together in a pure desire to feel one another, hands gripping tightly on your hips, moving up to unclasp your bra, sliding off your lab coat in the process. you were quick to follow suit, allowing the white fabric to rustle at his ankles, gripping his face in your hands to bring him impossibly closer to you.

“i need you,” he breathed out, breaking away for a moment to pull your shirt over your head and bra down your arms, immediately latching his mouth to your right nipple, his large, toasty hand fondling your left, pinching your nipple between two meaty fingers, grunting in appreciation when you let out breathless whines.

when you didn’t respond, he repeated his words once again, more forcefully this time, you nodding your head, whispering “yes” over and over again. your pants were unbuttoned and slid down your legs, one arm holding your body up to pull the fabric out from under you. his own pants followed suit, hastily shoved down his ankles, not even bothering to step out of the cloth before he was attaching himself to your lips again.

his thick fingers found their way to your clit, rubbing harsh yet precise circles into the nub, making your head spin from the contact, throwing your head back in bliss.

“please, Eijirou, I need you,” you called out, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“have to get you ready to take my cock sweetheart. don’t worry, i’ll take care of you,” he promised, spreading your legs out in the process, inserting one finger into your wanting hole.

“so wet for me already, huh. i’ve barely even touched you. such a fucking needy bitch,” he tutted, pumping his finger in and out of you, curling to hit every inch of you.

you rocked your hips against his hand as he added another finger, you reveling in the feeling of the delicious stretch and him in pure awe of the situation. his thumb came back to rub harsh circles once again on your aching clit. you continued rolling your body into his fingers, chasing your high, gripping his hand for support.

you were so close, so deliciously close to a mind blowing orgasm, when Kirishima removed his fingers from your body, languidly bringing them up to his mouth and licking the juices off his fingers, making eye contact with you.

he pulled your body to the edge of the table, hands gripping your ass tightly as he gave the top of one a harsh smack, the sound resonating loudly in the once sterile room. he removed one hand and brought it down to his dick, giving it an experimental tug, rubbing the precum over the tip of his dick. you watched with a lolled head, enamored by the sheer thickness, wondering how it would feel stretching you out.

you didn’t have to wait long to find out as Kirishima positioned himself right at your entrance, spitting onto his cock for good measure before he deliberately pushed the tip of himself into your sopping cunt, you gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the plush skin, though he never even noticed.

he continued to gently pump his tip in and out of your cunt, collecting the sticky liquid before he began inserting his whole cock into your body, you shuddering at the feeling of him inside of you.

once he was fully sheathed, he waited a few moments, pulling you in for another searing kiss as he began surging his dick in and out of your body, gripping your hips in an iron hold, keeping you steady on the wobbly table.

you threw your head forward, gripping onto his arms for dear life, biting down into his shoulder to keep the moans muffled, listening to the grunts and groans of Kirishima breathily in your ear.

“fuck you feel so tight. i’m going to stuff this pussy full of cum. you’re going to be my little cum dumpster, aren’t you?” he cooed in your ear.

you could only nod back in response, crying out at the feeling of him stretching you to your limits, the burning only heightening your experience as you felt that coil once again build up.

it seemed as if he was chasing his own high as well, snapping his hips into you so harshly, grabbing your hips so tightly, marking you up and making you his with his fingertips imprinted into your skin in the form of pretty little purple marks.

“god, Eijirou, i’m so close,” you panted out, attempting to move your hips despite the harsh grip, wanting more friction.

he seemed to understand what you wanted, removing one of his hands to rub your clit, whispering praises and encouragement in your ear. you responded with a loud cry of your own, the dam finally breaking as your orgasm washed over you, Kirishima continuing to pound into you through your orgasm.

when you came down from your high, you were a blubbering mess, feeling another orgasm already building as he continued to fuck you senseless.

“come on baby, you have one more in you,” he encouraged, picking up the speed to ruthlessly drill into you.

“Kiri, please, i can’t,” you cried, weakly attempting to push him away, feeling so sensitive.

just as you were going to ask him to stop, you felt your second orgasm hit you like a freight train, frighteningly fast. your pussy pulsed around his cock, encouraging him to cum, to milk his cock dry.

Kirishima snapped soon after you, the way your walls were clenching around him sending him over the edge, grunting “fuck” over and over again as he slowed down his pace, riding out his own high.

you two hovered there, allowing yourselves to catch your breath and come down from the mind blowing highs you were experiencing. when you finally were able to think, you began tediously unsticking yourself from the now warm metal table, scooching off to stand up, immediately feeling light headed.

“whoa, are you okay?” Kirishima asked worriedly as he steadied you on your feet.

“yeah, that was amazing. plus, i don’t think i’ve eaten today. just too caught up in work, i think,” you admitted, resting your head on his chest.

“well, lets get you cleaned up, get these lab results to the doc, and then go to the cafeteria for something to eat, yeah?”

you nodded in response, still wobbly on your legs, as you followed him to grab some paper towels, allowing him to softly clean the now dripping liquid from your legs and aching cunt.

once you were cleaned up, you allowed him to help you dress, fixing your hair and straightening out your lab coat, before the two of you made your way to the head doctor’s office located across the building.

his door was left slightly ajar when you arrived, and after a few polite knocks, you impatiently entered, wanting to tell them the news right away.

“they’re not here,” you sighed with a frown, disappointment lacing your voice.

you were about to drop the documents and leave when a bright green folder labeled “test subjects” caught your eye. you slapped your paperwork into Kirishima’s arms before moving over to the folder, opening it without a care in the world, curious as to why there would be a folder labeled that in their office.

in it documented the tales of two test subjects who had been exposed to the sickness on purpose and then given drugs to attempt to cure or mitigate the effects of the disease.

the two test subjects, a and b, are still unaware that they were given the disease at the day of arrival. they began exhibiting symptoms right away, like hallucinations and violent behaviors, but after days of injections, things are starting to slow down. they are starting to come to, but with some weird twists. they don’t remember being infected at all.

you furrowed your brows, motioning Kirishima over to have him read the documents himself, before you continued reading:

they knew basic motor functions, how to survive as a human for the most part, but needed to have things suggested to them, need to have some purpose in life in order to not go crazy. this was what we wanted all along: for a self sustaining human to listen to all suggestive behaviors while continuing to go about their day. there are some kinks that still need worked out. for example, they need to occasionally be reminded to eat, sleep, drink water, like they are still under the control of the disease, but those are issues that can be worked out. for now, things are going to plan.

“what does this mean?” you heard Kirishima ask, before continuing, “does this mean they’ve had a cure, or a version of the cure all along? then why have we been working tirelessly for months on this?”

“i’m not sure, let’s keep reading,” you urged, utterly confused on the situation and wanting to find answers.

the longevity of the treatment is currently being tested. they were set out on a task months ago, and are still diligently working on the issue at hand. they may actually come up with something useful at a much faster rate than the comparable test subjects without the virus, teaching themselves, learning and growing and changing at an exponential rate. for now, we continue to monitor their well being with frequent tests such as blood work and head ct’s. while they still have a bit of brain damage from the disease, they are functioning overall well and should be great successes.

“Kirishima, this is crazy. they are breaking all sorts of violations here. testing on unknowing subjects. we need to expose this. i don’t care if their experiment is working. they’re creating and working on a mind altering drug here, the same type of drug that started this whole issue in the first place. this is just a mess,” you rambled, not paying attention to the terrified look on Kirishima’s face.

once you caught onto him not listening, you followed his gaze, back down to the page, reading the last of the written material before looking back at him with tears rolling down your cheeks. you collapsed into his arms, sinking down to the floor together, finally realizing what was going on.

in highlighted lettering, right at the bottom of the page, you found your truth:

the test subjects at hand, Kirishima Eijirou (a) and (l/n) (y/n) (b) are still woefully unaware of the situation at hand, and we will do anything, and i mean anything, to keep it that way.

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#kirishima x reader #Kirishima Eijirou #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #apocalypse

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