(A/N): I thought this request was so cute and I wish I could only do it justice
Request: Oh, I got a idea for a cute Scarlett Johansson x female reader imagine! It takes place where they’re co-stars working on the set for Captain America: Civil War movie (And they’re in a relationship. ;) ) and during the gag reels, they’re acting all cute and goofy while sharing playful kisses and in another scene where they were filming the reader’s character saving Nat from getting hurt, Scarlett playfully rolls back until she’s on top of the reader and starts tickling her with kisses?
“Nat,” You whisper, racking your brain for your next line. Scarlett looks at you, a look of confusion crossing her face, just as she had been told to do, whereas you couldn’t even remember your own line to save your life.
“What?” She asks, trying to help move the scene forward.
“Um-” You pause, trying not to smile as you try desperately to remember your lines. “Fuck me I forgot,” You mutter, chuckling as Scarlett breaks character at your statement. She laughs, resting her hands on her thighs to brace herself.
“I’d be glad too,” She states once she regains her composer, wiggling her eyebrows at you suggestively. You can’t help but laugh when Scarlett laughs again, finding herself more than amusing.
“Okay, Cut!” Joss calls, smirking to himself. “Let’s start the scene again,” You chuckle once more, biting your lip to regain your character before you slip back into your persona, speaking to Nat once again.
You and Scarlett stood a few inches apart, your elbow ‘pressed’ against her neck as the two of you filmed your fighting scene. She grunted and flailed, trying to escape your grip but she couldn’t mostly because she wasn’t even trying. She groans again, the sound coming out a bit stranger than anticipated. Both you and her freeze in your movements and as soon as you lock eyes you can’t help but giggle slightly. You bite your lip to keep your character up but as you made the mistake of looking directly at Scarlett’s slowly curving lips you couldn’t help but smile too.
“Oh my god,” You whisper, your lips nearly touching Scarlett’s with how close you were. “What was that noise?” Scarlett giggles just a bit as she takes a deep breath, trying to soothe her laughter.
“I think you actually choked me a bit,” You smile, letting your grip on her throat ease up just a bit.
“Remind me to never try that in the bedroom because god that was a horrid noise-” Scarlett laughs again, her entire face crinkling up in amusement and you swear she’s never looked more beautiful than when she laughs. Your laughter subsides, instead replaced with sheer love and adoration for the woman before you but before you even had a chance to kiss her or tell her how beautiful she looked Joss was telling you to start the scene again.
You and Scarlett are sitting in Stark tower, drinking as the two of you share your character’s deepest darkest secrets. Scarlett’s character, Natasha, was telling your character about her time in the red room, about all the pain and torture she had gone through.
“They trained me to be a weapon,” She murmurs as she takes a sip of the wine the two of you had been provided with. “Look at how well oiled their little machine is,” She chuckles dryly and you can’t help but notice the way her lips curl around the glass or the way her eyes glaze over as she talks. Her hair was curled in a sweet, innocent kind of way and you couldn’t help yourself when you found yourself leaning in, pressing your lips to hers. She smiles against your lips as she sets her drink down, using her free hand to cup your cheek as she kisses you.
It was unethical really, you knew that, but she had just looked so beautiful in that moment that you just had to kiss her before you got distracted.
“Sorry!” You yell to the camera crew before you tilt your head to look at Scarlett once more. “You just looked so beautiful I had to do something about it,” She smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips before pulling away.
“Damn right I do,’
“Nat!” You scream as you charge at Scarlett, tackling her to the ground just at the right time, just like the crew had told you to do. “Nat, oh my god-” You begin to fawn over her, just as instructed. “Are you okay? Did her hurt you-” You squeal when suddenly Scarlett had flipped the two of you over, with her menacingly staring at you as she sat upon your pelvis. “Nat, what are you-” You squeal once again when Scarlett leans down, ghosting her lips over your neck, a place she knew to be very ticklish. Her lips press a series of kisses along your neck and you can’t help your involuntary scream. “Scarlett! Stop! That tickles!” You thrash under her, trying to get her off but it proved to be fruitless, she had you trapped well and good. “Oh my god I’m gonna cry!” You scream, smacking at her stomach to get her off of you but she doesn’t relent, even when your tears are streaming down your face and you can’t even make any more noises she continues. Finally, after what feels like forever, she relents, slowly pulling away from your neck with a smirk.
“I think the better question is are you okay?” You look up at her breathlessly, panting a bit as you glare at her.
“You’re the worst,” You grumble, shifting below her to try and get free. She merely smirks as she presses a kiss to your lips, a more sweet and caring one compared to the torturous ones a few moments ago.
“You love me and you know it,”
“Not to totally interrupt you guys but we are trying to film a movie you two,” Joss smiles at the two of you, his words only half meaningful. “Hurry up and get on with whatever weird relationship stuff this is,” Scarlett looks down at you, smiling as she presses another kiss to your lips. “But just so you know,” Joss smirks, “This is totally going on the gag reel,”
You were undercover at the annual Ministry of Magic’s masked ball, on an assignment given to you by the Dark Lord himself. You usually enjoyed the more flashy, ‘direct attack’ approach, but tonight was different. Tonight you had to target a wizard that was a huge threat to Lord Voldemort, but whom he didn’t want dead (just yet, any way).
Your task was to get close enough to him in order to place him under the Imperius curse. The wizard in question was one Sirius Black. You glanced at the picture of him you had memorized earlier before tucking it back into your beaded purse. Your black lace mask covered your eyes elegantly, and you waltzed around the ballroom with ease, talking to one wizard after the next, searching for your target. You knew he was here, but it was more difficult than you thought it would be to find him.
You glided over to the bar and ordered a fire whiskey, before downing the entire tumbler filled with the amber liquid in one shot. “I admire a girl who can hold her liqueur” said a silky voice. You turned and saw a handsome man with dark features leaning against the bar. His mask was navy and covered half of his face.
“Is that so?” You moved closer to him, your lips curving into a smile. “Then I would suggest you buy me another”. You spent the next half hour flirting with the man, your head becoming lighter and your thoughts drifting from your assignment. He was exceptionally funny and made you laugh easily. At one point you noticed his eyes were the same shape and colour of Black’s, and your mind jolted back to reality.
“Are you -?” You began to ask him his name, when another man appeared next to him and swung his arm around his neck. “Pads, there you are, been looking for you” The man glanced at you and straightened up. You raised one of your elegant eyebrows and looked him over. His messy black hair and thin face didn’t meet Black’s appearance, and apparently neither did the other man. Pads? Must be short for Patrick, you thought. You smiled at the handsome stranger as he spoke to his friend, tearing yourself reluctantly away from him. You had to find Black and this man was a distraction.
As the night wore on, the crowd became less reserved. People started dancing more wildly, kissing openly and drinking freely. It was the result of the war. People were afraid of what tomorrow held, so they lived as much as they could in the present. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t find Black. You knew the Dark Lord would not be pleased if you showed up without success, so you continued your search outside in the gardens. Each time you glanced over your shoulder you saw the stranger from the bar. Was he following you?
You walked towards the maze as a few couples went running into its labyrinth, intoxicated with recklessness and lust. You saw the man again, and this time you knew he was watching you. He leaned against the side wall and flashed you a cocky smile. You grinned back and walked deliberately into the maze. You kicked your high heels off and started to walk faster, glancing ever so often to the back of you.
He was there. Chasing you. Hunting you.
You became excited and forgot about your task from your Master entirely. You ran through the maze, your dark dress billowing out behind you. You hid behind a statue as the man came running down the path. You jumped out at him, laughing as he tried to grab you. You ran back up the path and took a right. You were giggling and felt like a kid again - carefree and happy. You turned left then right again and suddenly came to a dead end. You spun around in anticipation and the stranger was right behind you. He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you down to the ground. You were both laughing and rolling on the floor, your dress and his robes becoming entangled until he ended up on top of you.
You were breathless and smiling at him, his lips inches away from yours. He softly kissed you, pushing your mask over your face, and you closed your eyes, relishing at his touch as his strong hands moved up your body. You missed this. Your kisses became more heated and his mask started bothering you. You snatched it off his face and started kissed him again. You felt his hand trailing down your thigh and towards your -
“Give me back my wand” you said, breaking free from the kiss. You looked into his face properly and saw with a skip in your heart who he was.Sirius Black.
“Y/N Y/L/N” he said, slowly standing up and pointing his wand at you. “I don’t want to hurt you”
“How do you know my name, Black?”
“How do you know mine?”
You glared at him as you opened your purse slowly and withdrew his picture, holding it up to show him. To your surprise he smiled that goddamn sexy grin of his. From an inner pocket in his robes he withdrew a photo too - a photo of you.
“It seems we were set up from the start to hunt each other. Listen love, I like you… there’s something about you that I trust and I think we can help you…” You frowned and something unfamiliar stirred in your mind.
“You can’t help me. And if I don’t curse you tonight, I’m good as dead.” Black’s grey eyes darkened at this.
“I don’t like that idea, for either of us. I’m going to give back your wand - ”
“That’s a stupid idea - ”
“Like I said,” he shrugged “ there’s something I trust about you… and if that makes me stupid -”
“- then I suppose I’m less of a genius than I thought” he grinned and threw your wand to you.
You caught it with one hand and pointed it at him. Your eyes locked with his, and your heart whispered to you. You couldn’t hex him. You lowered your wand and so did he. Black walked towards you, slowly taking your hand.
“You’re better than this. You can join me. Let’s go and enjoy the rest of the party… then we can figure the rest of this mess out”. You picked your masks back up and put yours back on as Black pulled his over his face. “Let’s go, then.” You walked back to the ball, the both of you strutting for opposite sides of the war, arms linked and minds racing. You had a feeling you would see him again after tonight.
In anticipation for Stranger Things 2, a little sketch dump of my favorite character, Jim Hopper! I can not wait for more adventures with the gang, and to see my boy Hopper punch more baddies in the face! :)
Mino had had enough of your teasing. He knew that this was something that you were extremely good at. Considering he was the first man that has ever touched you he knew that teasing was the only type of freaky thing you had experience in. For months he would watch you casually flirt with his friends. You would throw your hair over your shoulder and lean forward slightly revealing just a tiny bit of cleavage. He would watch you walk away when his friends would try to come on to you. He’d admire the way your hips swung slightly as you walked away in your six inch high heels. He’d always admired your ability to make the men around you dangle and drool over you without having to take your clothes off.
But he didn’t admire that when your teasing was directed at him. He hated when you did suggestive things but acted as if you had no idea of your effect on him. He hated when you bit your lip and when you wore your necklace low so that the pendant was hovering over your chest. He hated when you wore tight clothes and low v cuts. He hated when you made him horny and walked away like you weren’t just grinding on him a second ago. He hated it.
You had just been straddling his hips. Mino looked up at you a tiny bit surprised at your sudden dominance- usually he was the one that started. He was always the one that cupped your face and brought your lips together. He was always the one that put his hand on your thigh and squeezed letting you know he was in the mood. It was different that you had started it this time considering you were still a bit shy towards him. But there you were on top of him grinding on him. You had both palms flat on his broad chest as you gently pressed kisses on his clenched jaw. Mino groaned at the feeling and felt himself harden beneath you.
As soon as you felt his hard on beneath you, you smirked and stood up. Or at least tried to. Mino’s arms shot up and grabbed you by the hips, forcefully pulling you back down on to him. You looked into his eyes in surprise and noticed that his brown orbs have darkened with lust and fury.
“I know you were not about to just do that,” Mino hissed angrily.
You cocked your head to the side, “Do what?” you asked innocently.
The clash ofmetal on metal mixed with helpless whimpering reverberates throughout the
chamber. She doesn’t even flinch as the
woman in the cage next to her violently yanks at the bars holding her captive.
She must be new. Anyone who’s been here long enough has inevitably given up on
the notion that their power of will could set them free. At this point it would
be nothing short of divine intervention to be liberated.
please stop doing that,” she grumbles irritably, side-eyeing the woman caged
“How can you
just sit there like a goddamn invalid while these people hang us upside down
and bleed us dry,” the woman hisses venomously.
“How can you
wrench at the bars and growl like a goddamn savage when it’s clearly a futile
attempt?” she counters calmly.
“I am not the
enemy,” the woman barks with resentment.
“No, but you are
giving me a massive headache.”
The woman lets
out an indignant scoff, falling back against the crisscross of metal in
dejectedly, shifting her weight as if she could rise above the point of
kneeling. This isn’t living. This isn’t even surviving. This is watching death
from a front row seat until it inevitably beckons to you with a boney finger
signaling that your time is up. You are no longer a spectator watching on with
disgust and horror, now you’re a participant whose last act of defiance is a
weak effort to strike out at the man dragging you towards the grim reaper. It’s
the live-action transformation from purgatory to hell.
shushing travels from cage to cage as the occasional whisper of “Shut up!”
“Don’t move!” or “Look weak!” fills in the gaps. She lets her weight pull her
forwards as her head leans up against the door, the lock right above her left
eye. She doesn’t have to ‘look weak’ she is
weak. She’s lost count of the times she’s been strung up like an animal. She’s
lost count of the times she wordlessly begged for death to take her. But yet
there’s still something in her that just can’t let go. There’s something in her
that fights to stay alive against her own conscious desires.
Her eyes flutter
shut as the sound of hurried footsteps gets closer. Soon the sound ceases
entirely as someone flicks the lock on her cage, causing a sharp ting to ring
in her ears. Her eyes snap open against her better judgment, but instead of
meeting the gaze of a man sent to do the devil’s work, she sees a man with a
kind expression and worried eyes.
“I’m not gonna
hurt you,” his whispers softly, his deep voice soothing the cracks in her that
exist not in the physical sense.
“Why not? That’s
your job isn’t it?” she pushes herself back to look at him more clearly.
“I’m not one
them,” he explains.
“Sky boy?” she
arches an eyebrow in realization. Her people would never speak with such
concern and caring. That is not their way.
He nods in
affirmation. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he says sincerely,
letting his fingers rest in the square spaces.
“You are not my
ally,” she lets her eyes drop from his gaze. False hope is dangerous. False
hope might actually kill her.
“Yes I am,” he
“The last I
remember my people were sending soldiers to massacre your makeshift village.”
awhile since then. Things have changed,” he offers a half-hearted smile and she
can’t help but notice the subtlest flicker of pain in his expression. There’s
more to the story on the part of the sky people. There’s loss and suffering. A
tragedy she knows all too well.
Despite the grim
circumstances she can’t help but let a ghost of a smile transform her lips as
“I’m sorry for
the grievances you have suffered at the hands of my people.”
“You are not responsible
for the actions of the group you belong to. You are only responsible for your
own, personal actions.”
“A simple ‘I
accept your apology’ would have sufficed,” she jokes in good nature.
nothing to apologize for,” he insists whilst laughing lightly.
understanding that he won’t let her think she has the obligation to apologize
from other cages causes both of them to jump. The grounders have predictably
become restless after sensing that this man is no threat to them.
name? And what exactly are you doing here?” she asks quickly, before he gets
the chance to run off.
when the time comes, I’m going to let you all out,” he announces.
“Such a hero,”
“Not even close,”
he shakes his head, “What’s your name?”
hums, “Tell ya what, when we’re both free from this hell-hole and the sun can
shine down on us or the rain can soak us to our core or whatever, then I’ll
tell you my name.”
going to leave me hanging in suspense, huh?” he chuckles.
“Think of it as
keep you alive? I don’t need an incentive for that,” he assures.
“An incentive to
keep yourself alive. You seem like the martyr type,” she shrugs.
his mouth to reply but the sound of a door opening and closing causes him to
avert his attention to that general direction. His fingers slip out of the
empty squares as a real guard sizes up the hostages. He turns to her and
mouths, “I’ll come back for you. I promise”
before running off in the opposite direction.
Please don’t get yourself killed,” she whispers far too late for him to have
been able to hear her.
For the first
time in what feels like a timeless millennium, hope is a viable concept to
cling to. The problem is that this concept is directly linked to a fragile
human being she’s only known for a few short minutes. If he dies so does that
delicate promise. And if that promise dies she will surely follow.
One of the most
irritating, and possibly trivial, parts of residing in a windowless cellar is
that there is no definite way to determine what time of day it is. It drives
her insane not knowing whether it is the sun or the moon that is looking down
on those fortunate enough to be outside. But she can infer that it is nighttime
since everyone else has settled into a fitful slumber.
The creaking of
a door disrupts the otherwise quiet room. She crawls to the front of her cage,
curious as to who would be meandering about when the rest of the mountain is
presumably asleep. Wavy black hair covered by a lame looking hat is the first
thing that comes into her line of vision. She grins excitedly in anticipation. Bellamy.
she says quietly as he comes to a stop in front of her and slips his fingers
into the square openings.
“Hey,” he smiles
at her warmly, “Sorry I haven’t been by in a few days. It’s gonna take some
“You holding up
alright?” concern furrows his brows.
“Yeah, I mean,
as well as can be expected. What about you?” she inquires.
“As well as can
be expected,” he echoes, “I’ll be fine when my friends are safe and when you
guys are free.”
The words taste
like acid coming out of her mouth. An admission of fear is weakness and
weakness is death. But god does it feel good to be honest for once in her harsh
life. Grounders are taught to be ruthless warriors from the moment they can
comprehend what that means. There’s no crying. There’s nothing but strength, or
faux strength. There is no honesty of emotion.
“Do you want to
hear a story?” Bellamy asks.
her interest is piqued.
There’s this dog with three heads. It’s pretty cool,” he grins brightly.
“Sure, sky boy.
Tell me about the three headed dog,” she smiles weakly, leaning up against the
there’s this guy named Hades, and he’s a God not ‘a guy’ and he presides over
hell with his three headed dog named Cerberus…” Bellamy tells, his voice
raising an octave in excitement as he tells the tale of Hades and Cerberus- Persephone
making a guest appearance.
these become the norm over the next few weeks. The first few nights he
enlightened her with tales of Greek Mythology. The next week few nights she
told him about her family, or the family she used to have before her father was
killed by the mountain men and her brother was turned into a reaper. The most
horrifying part of the story was when she watched the Trigedakru slit her
brother’s throat in self-defense in a reaper raiding of their village. There was nothing we could do. He was too far-gone.
He couldn’t be saved. Okay.
Bellamy told her
about his life on what he called ‘the Ark’. About his sister, Octavia, who was
the driving force behind most of his actions. He swears up and down that it was
Octavia who made him selfless. From the moment she was born she was the most
important thing in his life. She was his responsibility. It seems he has
adopted the same kind of attitude with the 44 also being held prisoner. They
were his responsibility. They were his to save. He would do anything to spare
their lives. Anything.
On the 15th
night she noticed that he always slipped his fingers into the square openings
of her cage whenever he talked to her. She began to wonder if it was his own
way of communicating with her without having to say anything at all. I’m here. You are not alone. You have me.
And I will protect you. I will protect you with everything I have. You’re okay.
On the 16th
night she slipped her own fingers into the square openings his fingers
preoccupied, curling hers around his, letting their palms touch despite the
metal digging into their flesh preventing them from being purely skin-to-skin.
On the 17th
night she realized how attached to him she had grown when he began to walk
away, leaving her to rest for the night. She wanted to call for him to stay
just a few moments more because there was no time for them that was guaranteed.
Every time he walked away from her that might be last. The last time she might
ever see the boy with freckles splattered across his tan, bruised skin. The boy
who convinced her to breath when she didn’t even know she was holding her
breath. The boy who was her last hope.
On the 18th
night he didn’t show. She waited until sleep took her unwillingly, but he never
chambers are complete and utter chaos. There’s screaming and yelling from every
direction. The shaking of metal pierces the air as the shouting continues. She
has no idea what’s going on, but she does know that this is either very good or
She grips the
bars of her own cage, desperate to crane her neck out and see beyond her
limited viewing point. A mess of black, wavy hair catches her eye and her heart
begins to pound against her chest cavity.
eyes with her and runs over to the cage, his fingers fiddling with the key in
“I told you I’d
get you out of here,” he smiles as he unlocks the lock.
The door swings
open with a laborious creaking noise. Bellamy holds his hand out to her and she
awkwardly crawls out of her little prison. It feels so odd to be standing upright and it takes all of her strength to hold
“Hey, hey look
at me,” Bellamy grips her shoulders tightly, “I have to go, but you need to
help Echo get the rest of your people out. When my people are safe and your
people are free I will see you again, okay?”
luck, sky boy,” she squeezes his arm comfortingly.
grounder girl,” he pulls her into a hug, his lips brushing her forehead.
They part and he
retreats in the opposite direction. She can’t help but feel a painful twisting
in the pit of her stomach. At some point, whenever he walked away, there was
something she wanted to do, but was restrained from doing so. She has the
feeling that although this is not the opportune moment to do so, it might be
her only chance. After all, nothing is guaranteed in war.
chases after him.
He turns around
at the sound of his name as she crashes into him ungracefully, his arms
wrapping around her to stabilize them.
he asks in genuine confusion.
“Nothing… I… I
just,” she stops short, pressing her lips against his instead of finishing her
in surprise but he responds the way she had hoped he would. She’s kissing him.
And he’s kissing her back. Her lips say all the words her mouth can’t do
justice. Thank you. I owe you my life.
You aren’t just a means to an end. You are so important to me. While his
are saying, You’re welcome. You don’t owe
me anything. You aren’t just another nameless prisoner. You are so important to
Bellamy clears his throat, “Our people need us.”
She smiles up at
him, a subtle blush staining her cheeks, “May we meet again,” she pecks his
lips once more before returning to aid Echo.
Cold air hits
her face like a sharp slap across her cheekbone. Her breath comes out in
fitful, uncontrolled puffs. This is not what she had imagined freedom to feel
like. The coldness seeps into her bones, making her shake uncontrollably. This
was not supposed to happen. It was not supposed to be like this.
you’d be a little happier considering we’re not condemned to death anymore,”
the woman from the cage next to her bumps her shoulder.
expecting it to happen like this,” she mumbles, her cheeks feeling slick. She
didn’t realize she was crying.
“Oh, I get it,
it’s because your friend wasn’t part
of the deal.”
“He was trying
to save our lives,” she snaps.
walking to face the exterior of the prison she had been a part of for so long.
It looks weird from this perspective. It looks like any other mountain. Its
internal horrors are completely disguised.
“Come on, we
have to keep moving,” Echo appears at her side.
inside. He’d understand. There’s nothing you can do for him now. This is war
and there are casualties,” Echo frowns, tugging at her arm.
“So I should
just be thankful that the casualties aren’t Trigedakru?”
“You didn’t even
know they were our allies before he told you. And after the deal the commander
made, they’re no longer our allies. Nothing has changed,” Echo states
unconvincingly, starting off without her, leaving her to stare up at the
Everything has changed.
Her head is
pounding and she wants to scream. What was the point? What was the point of all
those late night conversations if they would never amount to anything? Now
they’re just a bandage to protect her from the terror of the mountain men that
has been ripped off; leaving her to bleed from the wound caused from the
absence of it.
turns away; trudging back to the home she doesn’t feel a part of anymore. She
can’t shake the sinking feeling in her stomach as the branches of trees brush
against her bare skin. Tears silently well up in her eyes as she tries to
forget about Bellamy.
In my experience—and this is a very awkward way to put it, since I don’t really know what the word experience means—the strangest people in one’s life are the people one has known and loved, still know and will always love. Here, both I and the vocabulary are in trouble, for strangest does not imply stranger. A stranger is a stranger is a stranger, simply, and you watch the stranger to anticipate his next move. But the people who elicit from you a depth of attention and wonder which we helplessly call love are perpetually making moves which cannot possibly be anticipated. Eventually, you realize that it never occurred to you to anticipate their next move, not only because you couldn’t but because you didn’t have to: it was not a question of moving on to the next move, but simply, of being present. Danger, true, you try to anticipate it and you prepare yourself, without knowing it, to stand in the way of death. For the strangest people in the world are those people recognized, beneath one’s senses, by one’s soul—the people utterly indispensable for one’s journey.
There is no order to this list whatsoever just some of my favourite fics written by some awesome storytellers. Stories that have made me laugh, cry or grin like a lunatic. I think I’m probably missing a few more recent fics that I have enjoyed, but I will have to have a search another day. There aren’t any ot3 fics here. I need to write a separate list for that. Anyway on with the recs.
Okay, she thinks, in a zen-like state of calm: given a chump assignment, she not only managed to fall in a well, she somehow dragged Captain America—living legend, supersoldier, level 7 SHIELD consultant, and Avenger—down with her.
This means two things:
1) Captain America knows who she is now, and thinks she’s a dumbass, and 2) SHIELD is probably going to make her disappear as punishment (likely by throwing her in another, deeper well and pretending she never existed).
“Don’t mind me,” she says faintly. “I’m just gonna drown myself now.”
Steve Rogers and Darcy Lewis are friends. Really, that’s all they are. Friends who have sex occasiona…frequently. But that’s it.
Denial’s not just a river in Egypt, however, and some people – especially busy people who work hard saving the world with a bright shield or coffee and snacks to keep their boss from going over into mad scientist territory – can’t quite see what’s right in front of them. They’ll get it eventually.
Darcy Lewis believes that every moment can be a new beginning, about how some things never really end, and how you can find these things in the most unexpected of places. Of course, even she’s freaked out when she starts seeing the soldier from her dreams larger than life and walking down the streets of Brooklyn.
Darcy Lewis decides somewhere between Dallas and Austin, as her beat up old Ford truck speeds down a two-lane back country road, that she’s made for road trips…until her truck breaks down and she learns quickly there’s no cell service in BFE.
A Fighter by his Trade by Imogen_Penn: Everybody’s got a past, something they’re running from. It might take a while to figure it out, but the real question is where you’re running to.
It’s just a laugh from a dark haired girl on the street, but it trips off a set of events that no one could expect or anticipate. Truth is stranger than fiction, but when your whole life is fiction, who’s to say what strange really is?
The path to self-discovery, including becoming Coulson’s assistant-slash-liaison-slash-bff, Captain America’s lady love, and rating fourth on the SHIELD BAMF scale, was like the yellow brick road; it was chaos and confusion around every bend.
New to New York, Darcy was just trying to adapt and find her place when a stalker sends her right into the seat across from Steve Rogers, a stranger struggling with his own journey in life. In each other, they find both friendship and so much more.
Some days he hated the shield and the costume, hated pretending to be perfectly polite and a shining example of the best and the brightest. Some days he just wanted to be a man. Some days he just wanted.
After Steve is photographed at a publicity event with a woman who is ‘almost’ wearing a dress, Fury demands that Coulson fix it. Rather than shutting down the entire tabloid magazine industry (which really is outside SHIELD’s parameters), Coulson takes a different approach and decides to find a girlfriend for the Captain.
Tony’s not surprised Cap is the only one of them who had gotten a dose of the red stuff—he’d been in the middle of everything, as per usual—saving civilians and agents and kicking robot ass for the Free World. He’s a little more surprised to discover that Darcy had been one of those agents. And by the time they’re all stuck in the elevator together—Steve and Darcy pressed together in one corner, everybody else in the other—it doesn’t take long to figure out why the stupid villain they’d been fighting had stopped to fondle one of his bots.
Darcy perused the site during her lunches sometimes and on a Friday, found possibly the funniest profile she’d yet read. The guy, kilroy_was_here, didn’t have a picture, which she usually required, but he was twenty-six, charming, funny, and seemed pretty sweet. She tilted her head at her phone and decided to message him. She’d show kilroy to Jane later, and maybe to Natasha whenever she got back from Istanbul.
40. Your muse covers mine with a blanket after they fall asleep
Techie had been assigned to show the Lieutenant exactly where the malfunction in the system had been - but why he couldn’t have just fixed it as usual and had been left alone was beyond his understanding. When the Lieutenant arrived it was anxiety-inducing, anticipating a stranger entering his space and then having to show someone who isn’t as ‘tech-savvy’ as him how to fix a bug in their system.
Techie had decided to take as much time as he could, trying to show Mitaka step-by-step so that he wouldn’t have to come and see him again (he wasn’t exactly fond of strange visitors), and at the end of the process he had tired himself out to the point of falling asleep on the pile of blankets and cushions stacked on the floor.
He briefly woke up when he felt a weight being pressed on him, and for a brief moment he panicked, thinking that the Lieutenant might have had ill intentions, only to find that he was being covered in one of the blankets.
“Tha-Thank you,” Techie whispered, pulling the blanket higher over his neck as he watched the the other move.
Can U do a fanfic of EITML when the mc is dying and the guys can't save her but she could only live by turning her into a ayakashi like them? Yea it's weird.. Haha 😳
It’s not weird, I totally dig this one. Okay anonymous-chan! Enjoy!
He looked down at your bloodied body as he gripped your hand firmly. Your eyelids struggling to stay open as you whispered your final goodbyes to him.
He clutched your hand harder, “I’m not letting you die Ashley.” He called out.
Although he only knew one way to save you now, and wanted anything but to change you.
He leaned down the mark of you agreement, pulling back your shirt and placing his lips to it. “I’m sorry.” He muttered as he bit down, releasing his Akayshi power and sending it coursing through your veins.
You cried out in pain as the transformation into an Akayshi wasn’t a easy one. Already gripping his shoulder tightly and panting even harder than before, you were sure you were dead when you passed out.
“Ashley.” He called out, nudging you out of your sleep.
When you opened your eyes you felt energized, nothing like moments before. Not realizing the changes you looked around for an answer.
As your eyes locked with Miyabi’s, he explained how you managed to pull through. Shocked you reached up to find a pair of ears and down to find a bushy tail, twitching when you touched them for they were extremely sensitive.
“Are you upset?” He asked, worry washing over his face. You paused and thought about the new you.
“Well this means I live as long as you, so no.” You smiled at him. You reached out for his hand and he pulled you close, savoring the sweet aroma you gave off.
He began to nibble on your kitsune ears, “But I bet your sensitive to the changes huh?” He whispered seductively, “And you’ll have more stamina now.”
You flushed bright red, awaiting the night with you loved one.
You fell deathly ill and were lying in your room, taken out of the hospital because there was no hope for your survival. Chikage was in the Mononoke Village most of the time, looking for a way to cure you and your strange illness.
He came bursting through the door, where you and the other Akayshi were watching you in what they felt were your final moments.
“I can save her.” He said, rushing past the others and ignoring their confused looks, he came to your side and knelt down, brushing the hair out of your face.
“Ashley.” He said, his voice calm, put you at ease.
You lazily opened your eyes and looked into his cool ones.
“If I could save you, regardless how, would you let me?” Even now he asked if you wanted whatever he was about to give you. You slowly reached out for his hand and gripped it, telling him that you would.
He pulled out a yellow liquid. “If you drink this, you will turn into an tengu.” He said, already popping off the lid.
“Woah, is that safe?” Shinra called out.
“I’ve heard about this medicine, looks like your the first to perfect it though.” Samon said.
Chikage paid them no mind while he brought the liquid to your lips, letting you drink its contents, before a wave of sleepiness came over you.
“Ashley?” A voice called out to you. Your eyes flew open, scanning the room. They landed in Chikage. He looked tired and worn out, probably not sleeping until you woke up.
“Chikage?” You called out, sitting up and feeling a tremendous weight in your back. You started to fall back when he caught you and pulled you towards him.
“Your an Akayshi now. A tengu.” He said, playing with the soft feathers on your wings.
You twitched and tried to wiggle out of his grasp.
“That feels weird.” You said as you looked into the mirror. Any traces of sickness were gone but instead you were given a pair of huge wings.
“How do you feel?” He asked, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He rested his forehead on your head and sighed.
“Hehe I think your more exhausted than me. Thank you.” You said turning around to push him down on the bed and cuddling up next to him. “Now sleep.” You said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Chikage nuzzled up against your chest as you wrapped your arms around his head, keeping him close.
You were laying in the bed at your room in the Mononoke Village. You decided that you wanted your last moments to be here, because you had no family back in the human world.
A month ago, you were constantly getting sick, and not getting better. Your immune system failed, and there was no curing you. You waited in agony for the day you would take your last breath.
Shinra always took you where ever you wanted to go, wanting your final moments to be happy ones.
Although when you were asleep, he would read hundreds of books to see if there was a cure for you. He knew the human world well enough to understand they could not help you. He even begged the other clan heads to use their resources to aid in your survival, something they did with little complaint.
You were in and out of consciousness, only wanting Shinra to be there in your final moments, but he was no where to be found. “Is this…how it will end?” You said, hoping someone would deny the words you spoke, but no attendants or clan heads were with you to do so. Tears streamed down your face as you started to fall back asleep, knowing this time you wouldn’t wake up.
The last sound you heard was the door banging open.
“Ashley!” Someone called out as your eyes started to flutter open. You opened them to be meet by Shinra’s eyes, so full of worry and anticipation.
Stranger enough you felt energized, like you could take on the world. The feeling was so different to the one only moments ago. “Shinra?” You asked, wondering how on Earth you were alive.
“It’s ok,” He said giving you a soft smile, “You alive, but you did change.” He said, looking past the top of your head. Confused you tried to look up but saw nothing. He reached out and placed his hands on the horns protruding from your head.
“Huh!?” You gasped, making your way to a mirror to see the changes.
“I gave you some of my blood so you would become a oni, it was the only way you could survive.” He said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug. “I’m so sorry if you didn’t want this. I couldn’t lose you now, I was selfish.” He said, sounding so full of regret.
“No Shinra. Thank you.” You said, looking up into his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to live without you either. Plus, this means we can be together longer.”
He smiled, locking his lips with yours. “I worked so hard to figure out how to keep you alive, I’m glad it payed off.” He said resting his forehead against yours.
It hurt him more than the actual pain that should have inflicted him.
He watched your body, fall almost lifeless, as you took the blow from another akayshi.
Anger consumed him, as he extinguished the life that once was the enemy, running to your side to pick you up, only to find a very faint pulse.
He ran as fast as he could to bring you to the clan doctors. Trying to hold whatever he could to your wound to prevent even more blood loss.
Hastily he made his way in, set you down on the bed and doctors quickly tending to you. You were so focused on her that you disregarded the blood that stuck to your fingers, hands and clothes.
“How is she doing?” Yuki asked quietly, as he appeared next to you. Looking around, all the other clan heads were there, equally worried for Ashley.
You looked at her, growing paler, weaker, more lifeless by the second.
“Kyoga.” The clan doctor called out. You looked at him to see a conflicted expression on his face.
“Well out with it.” He demanded.
The words hit you like a sack of bricks. You felt like vomiting, trying to reach out for anything to support you before you would fall. Shinra quickly grabbed your arm as you were leaning forward, pulling you back.
“However, we may be able to bring her back.” He called out, giving you hope.
You ears twitched at the news. But looking back at the doctor, you still saw his conflicted expression. “How!?”
“We can turn her into an akayshi.” He said.
“Has that even been done before?” Samon asked.
“It will today.” Kyoga stated without hesitation.
You felt your eyes start to flutter open when warm hands shook your shoulders. “Ashley.”
You responded with a bolt, sitting up straight and looking around the room. “Why am I here?” You asked, looking to see Kyoga’s relieved face.
“Thank god.” He sighed, pulling you into a hug. “You died a half hour ago.” He said.
The realization of his words brought back those final moments. “Wh-than how am I here now?” You asked.
Kyoga slowly reached up to your head, and fondled something protruding from the top. You twitched, feeling uneasy at the sudden touch. “What?” You asked, not understanding what he was getting at.
“Your an akayshi now.” He said, pulling on your tail to prove it.
You head wiped around to reveal a tail, wagging behind you. Astonished, you looked back at Kyoga. “Is this real?” You said, playing with the puffy tail that was behind you.
“What is that smell?” You asked, thinking of other things already as you darted around the room.
“It might take a while to get used to the sense of smell Ashley.” He said, trying to hold back his laughter at watching you run around the room.
You stopped at the candles burning in the room, “Oh, I do not like that smell.” You said, holding your nose. Kyoga couldn’t stop himself and started laughing.
“Hahaha, Ashley, your to good.” He said, wrapping his arms from behind you, “I’m glad your still here with me.” He finished, placing kisses on your neck from behind you.
He never thought he would lose her, or close to it.
Since she was the first human to open his heart again, he swore he would treasure you. So why did he let you go alone to the store? Something so trivial, getting him ice cream, turned into your last moments, being attacked on the way back and near death when he found you.
He carried you back to the shrine. “Samon!” Yukinojo called out, laying you on the bed of your room. All the akayshi came in to see the scene. You were covered in your own blood, barely holding on to the little life you had. Yuki held your hand with his own bloody ones, “Common Ashley look at me.” He kept repeating, but your eyes wouldn’t open.
Samon came rushing in with talismans and other medicines, trying his hardest to help you, while the other akayshi watched in anticipation for the news to come.
“I’m not sure…” Samon finally said, “I think she has a few minutes left.” He stood up, pain taking over his face.
Yuki knelt down by Ashley’s side. She was breathing heavy, trying to hold on. He wanted her to fight as well, but part of him wanted to tell her to stop, because the sight of her fighting so hard for seconds, minutes even, hurt him to much.
Yuki only had one option.
“I can’t lose her.” He said out loud. Everyone thought he was stating the obvious until he went on, “Even if she hates me for this.”
Looks of realization washed over everyone’s face as Yuki formed some ice into a sharp edge and drew blood. Taking some into his mouth, he pressed his lips to yours, causing the blood to flow down your throat.
“C-c-cold.” You finally muttered after a couple of seconds. His ice cold blood coursed through your veins as you slowly started to come back to life, yet you felt like death.
“I-I’m so col-d.” You muttered, trying to wrap your arms around yourself to warm you up.
“It’s part of the transformation Ashley.” Yuki said. You looked at him with confusion when he continued, “I turned you into a yukibito to save you.” He finished, pushing your bangs out of your face.
You nodded meekly and closed your eyes, trying to forget about the cold washing over you. With two yukibito’s now in the cramped room, the temperature dropped fifty degrees.
“Shi- I’m out of here.” Shinra called out. Everyone else followed, not being able to stand the cold that Yuki, and you, were used to.
“The positive side of this is now you live as long as I do.” Yuki said, trying to convince himself he did the right thing. You smiled and grabbed his hand. “Thats great.” You said, smiling, as you squeezed his back.
Already apologizing for Yuki, because I never read his route. *bows* *bows*
the bruise will stop by later.
For now, the pain pauses in its round,
notes the time of day, the patient’s temperature,
leaves a memo for the surrogate: What the hell
did you think you were doing? I mean …
Oh well, less said the better, they all say.
I’ll post this at the desk.
Hi guys! So I’m really sorry that this is so rushed, but I had some really important stuff to do today, and I still wanted to get this out because I really like it. Thank you to @rainelily who (again) read through to make sure everything was alright with it. I hope you enjoy THE SNOWMAN WAR.
Jack loved snow. He
loved the crunch of it, loved the way it could be easily shaped into whatever
he wanted but also completely destroyed on a whim. He loved fresh snow, undisturbed and thick
beneath his feet.
While walking through the park that day, he kicked at it as
he walked, making it spray everywhere in shimmering clouds.
Sighing, he stopped, looking around at the peace of the
afternoon. The park was mostly deserted
when he walked home, so he wasn’t surprised to find only a single woman sitting
on a bench several feet away, probably waiting for someone.
He shifted his gaze to his right where a large portion of
the snowy ground lie undisturbed. He had
the uncontrollable urge to fuck it up, to see the pristine beauty turned into
Ignoring the woman on the bench who was giving him strange
looks, he trudged into the open area. He
bent to scoop up a chunk of snow. Packing
it into a ball, he decided that it would be the perfect start to building a
An hour later, Jack took a step back to examine his
handiwork. His snowman had ridiculously
short arms and his eyes and mouth were made of acorns because he couldn’t find
anything else lying around, but he was quite proud of the little thing.
He smiled and patted the snowman’s head before dusting his
clothes off and stepping back onto the path.
He had a bounce in his step as he continued on his way home, but
continued to kick snow into the air.
Jack took a different route home than he did to work, mainly
because he liked to take his time and relax as he was walking home. He generally chose to take a detour through
the park in the afternoons and it was because of this that he did not see what
had become of his snowman that morning.
Strolling through the park again, Jack came across the same
woman that had occupied the bench the day before. He decided to be polite and smile at her and
she returned that smile with a grin of her own.
When he turned from the woman to look at his snowman, Jack froze in his
tracks. Irritation immediately surging
through his chest.
The head of his snowman had been removed and placed at the
base of a larger snowman someone had built right next to it. The larger snowman had been formed with a
scowl on its face and beside the head of Jack’s snowman was a cardboard sign
with the words “Your snowman sucks, mine is better” scribbled in horrid
Jack couldn’t believe his eyes. How could someone be so childish as to
destroy a stranger’s snowman?
He looked over at the woman, “Did you do this?”
She looked offended “Sir, I don’t have time for such
childish things.” She sniffed and turned her head, set on ignoring Jack as he
crossed his arms and looked back over at his destroyed work.
Huffing, Jack stomped over to the pile of snow shit and set
about kicking holes into it. He then
wrote “RIP, Fucker” on the back of the cardboard the stranger had used with a
pen he kept in his back pocket before propping it up where it had previously
Making sure the snowman was completely destroyed, he set
about carefully dismantling his own and making three new ones. He didn’t have another piece of cardboard or
anything, so he gathered up as many sticks as he possibly could and broke them
into tiny pieces.
Each of his new snowmen would hold two words on the middle
sections. The first one held the words “EAT
A” the second one “BIG BAG” and the third he finished off with “OF DICKS.”
Satisfied with his work and the appalled look on the woman’s
face, he set off toward home again. How
dare someone fuck with his snowman?
He was almost eager to return to the park after work the
next day. He had come prepared with a
sharpie and piece of cardboard to scribble crude writing across it if the need
Jack wasn’t surprised to find that the stranger had gone to
the trouble of actually splashing red liquid over the destroyed snow to make it
look like an actual massacre. He was on
Jack’s mental child level, apparently.
Off to the side of the scene a bit was an arrow made out of
some of the sticks he used the day before, guiding him away from the snowman
battles to another area in which there were already four tiny snowmen set into
a line. The stranger decided to use the
foreheads of the tiny snowmen to convey the message this time. Each snowman held one word, “YOU WANNA GO
Jack kicked the face of each snowman off and set about
building his own. He created two, the
one on the left contained a crude drawing of a hand flipping off the four
fallen snowmen and the other held the cardboard sign with the words “COME AT ME
SCRUBLORD, I’M RIPPED.”
Smiling and laughing at his own work, Jack walked away,
happily anticipating what the stranger would do next.
The following day, Jack skipped to the spot of the war, but
his shoulders slumped at the sight of only a single, simple snowman standing in
the spot he had set his snowmen up yesterday.
Where had all of this guy’s creativity gone? Obviously, the fun was over.
Despite the guy being an ass, he had enjoyed the back and
forth banter that he and this random person had been doing. It brightened up his dull days.
At the base of the snowman was the cardboard that Jack had
written on, but it was flipped to the other side. The words “LET’S SETTLE THIS LIKE MEN” were scribbled
in chicken scratch across the top with an address and time at the bottom.
Jack nodded and headed in the direction of the address. The asshole
wanted to meet him? Fine. Jack would
just have to find entertainment elsewhere on his walks home.
The note had given the address to Jack’s favorite coffee
shop. The shop wasn’t his favorite
because of the hot guy behind the counter, it just had amazing coffee and he
would keep telling himself that until the day he was put into his grave.
When he pushed the doors open, he closed his eyes and
inhaled deeply, causing the hot barista and the one other customer in the shop
to give him odd looks. Jack didn’t care,
coffee sounded splendid at the moment.
He headed for his usual table, the one in the back behind
the unnecessarily high-backed chair. If
he sat directly behind it, Jack could happily prop his feet up on the chair
beside him and lean his back against the window behind him. No one would even know he was there.
As he was sitting down, he expecting the hot guy to come and
take his order like he usually did, but he didn’t and he happened to notice
that the guy kept looking between him, the door, and the clock on the wall as
he distractedly bustled about cleaning the counter.
Eventually, he tore the apron off of himself, calling out to
his coworker, “Dan! Time for shift
change! I gotta go, man. Bye!” Grinning, he threw the apron at the
face of his unsuspecting coworker who had come out of the back room at his
Jack sees him hesitate for a moment, obviously debating,
before walking over to his table and bluntly asking, “Are you the snowman guy?”
In a bit of shock, Jack could only nod dumbly as the barista
smiled at him and sat across from him in the chair that wasn’t occupied by Jack’s
“I knew you would be hot.” He commented, inspecting Jack, “My
name’s Mark and I destroyed your snowman because it sucked.”
“Jack, and I destroyed your snowman because you’re an ass.”
He was blushing so furiously that he could feel a tingle in his ears.
“Look, I know we’ve been flirting back and forth for three
days, but can I apologize profusely for being a dick by taking you out on a
Jack shook his head to clear it but eventually found himself
accepting the offer, “You realize you’re going to have to take me on a lot of
dates for destroying all of my hard work?”
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take. How about I start my apologies by teaching
you how to make the best snowman ever?
We can make it together.”
Jack rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. Asshole.
“Throw in some coffee and you’ve got yourself a deal.”