#I need Russian lit mutuals

[averagedostoevskyreader]

BRB reflecting on that time Nabokov wrote “the prison of time is spherical and without exits”

#speak memory #I need Russian lit mutuals

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

The School Trip: Ch 1- Bus Trip

Summary: Jason and yourself are teachers at a high school. This long weekend you are taking all the science kids in your class to Central City to visit Star Labs and the handsome lit teacher has come along as an extra chaperone.

ScienceTeacher!Reader x EnglishTeacher!Jason Todd.

WC: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Slowish burn, multiple parts. mutual pining, teenagers, swearing, NO CAPES, smutty books.

"Mason, you gotta put that under the bus." Jason says, as Mason attempts to carry his full duffle bag through the door of the bus.

"But it's got all my stuff in it?"

"Yeah, all our stuff is under there. It'll be fine." He sees the boy's arms stiffen around the bag, "And how's cherry going to sit next to you with your bags taking up the room?"

"Good point, sir." 

"Nice work," you smile, nudging Jason in the.arm, "thought we'd have to travel with his smelly socks for a second there."

"Unlucky for you, you gotta sit next to my stinky socks the whole way instead." Jason jokes, enjoying the way your nose crinkles at the thought. It’s a small thing, but fuck its cute. This is going to be a long ass weekend, hopefully he can get to know you a bit better. He’s tried over the last few months since you started at his school, but there was always something pulling him away, whether it be curious kids asking questions or the need to get out and get home as soon as possible, there was always something. But now he’s got 3 nights and nearly 4 whole days to get to know the cute science teacher who always seems so much cleverer than him. One thing he knows for certain, something you always seem open to talk about is your cats, Rex and Cody. He’s seen pictures of the Russian Blue and the Orange kitties on your desk and it was the second thing he ever knew about you. 

Zoning back into reality as you try to usher him further onto the bus, before trying to push past him, "how are the cats going to cope without you for a few days?" he asks, not wanting to get into his interrogation of all your interests too early on.

"They'll be good. I've got a friend staying with them."

"A boyfriend?" Jason's eyes stare at your feet as you hop on the bus in front of him. He wants to look at your ass, it looks so good in those fucking jeans, but this is a work trip and he's so thankful that there's 30 fucking kids between you to keep him distracted. He just wants to get to know you, he tells himself, to make a new friend. He had so few friends in the staff, it wouldn’t be appropriate at all.

"Nah, my bestie. She's really cool." You smile as you take your seat at the front of the bus, the loud noise of thirty mouths going at once clogging your ears, "I think you'd like her."

"If she's anything like you-" he's cut off by a loud f bomb called out from the back of the bus and Jason's curiosity dies as Mr Todd rises in his chest.

"Yo! Young people!" You call before Jason even has a chance to stand up, "Mr Todd here is an old soul, so how bout we keep the F bombs to a hushed whisper, yeah?" A quiet sigh of 'yes miss' spread through the seats. "Maybe give him the illusion that the science program isn't running a meth lab?"

"Don't tell him that miss," Keira calls from the middle.

"He'll want a cut of our profits," Jayda laughs.

"Don't cross her, she'll make us do essay's." Andrew sniggers crouched behind a seat.

When their quiet charter starts up again, you turn to sit back down noticing Jason talking to the driver behind you.

"We're ready to go." Jason taking his seat next to you, his legs bunched up, the small confines of the front seat not enough for his massive legs. You try not to think about sitting next to him, about his wide frame nudging you as you bounce along, the long highway towards Central City. You need a distraction, something else to think about and not how his arms look under that fucking cardigan.

"Awesome, can't wait to spend my weekend with these delinquents."

"You're really good with them, you know."

"It's not hard. They're good kids."

"Some of them," he peers around, catching Theo pulling something from his bag.

"Nah, all my kids are great."

The driver pulls from the curb and you push into your handbag, pulling out a book.

"Can I ask you something?" Jason leans over, whispering in your ear.

""You can."

"Are you really selling meth with the kids?"

"Why? You a narc?"

"No. I just- you just- you said and i-"

"Dude chill," you slap him playfully with your book, "you don't need to be so serious."

"So should I read this instead?" He jokes, taking in the risque cover of the book, over the dark fae and his barely dressed companion, "how does a Misty Door work?"

"Shhh." You hush him, snatching the book back, "they think I enjoy reading science journals, don't blow my cover."

"Your secret's safe with me."

4 hrs and 1 nap later.

"Ok, people. We're at our stops for the night. Dinner will be at 6 and Miss has your room keys. Don't wander too far and try not to light anything on fire."

"Try our best." Keira calls out, giving him a wave as the kids start to grab their things and pile from the bus.

"Watch this." You smile at him, your hand wrapping around his bicep as a reflex to get him to stop. But then he looks down at you and you feel your heart start to race, shit. You shouldn’t have touched him. Now he’s looking at you like he’s got a bug on his arm, “Sorry,” you pull your arm away and he ducks back under the bus, "Todd, you're missing it!" you turn from him, not wanting to miss the display yourself. You heard a thud behind you and turn to see him rubbing at a spot on his head, what the fuck was he doing?

He can feel his face heating up, his heart is racing and all you did was have a hand on him. What is going on with him today? Couldn't be the way you let out little snores when you fell on him as you passed through the forest or the delight at how dirty your books are. Calm, calm down, a friend, yeah. She's just being friendly, he convinced himself, but when you call him he can help but respond. Maybe a bit too quickly, "What? What did I miss?"

"Look." You tilt your head towards the crowd of girls, "look what they're doing." You raise your brows in the direction of the young women, trying to get him to notice.

"What are they doing?"

"Just watch."

The girls each walk into the grassy park area near the hotel, each one pulling out a notebook.

"What's in those bags?" Jason asks, noticing how they're laying them in front of them.

"Magic." you nudge him, gently, trying to keep to yourself after the way he reacted to your touch before. "they're doing-"

"Magic? Really? Are they going to turn us into worms?'

"You still wanna hang out with me if I was a worm?"

"Don't think I got much choice. You're the only other adult I know in this city."

"Not for long. We're about to meet the hotel clerk and grab everyone's room keys."

"Yeah, I'm sure she'd be a hoot to hang out with “ he gestures towards the older looking woman behind the counter, the light pink and blue cardigan wrapped over her shoulders and the long pearl string connected to her glasses.

"You never know. She might be a secret spy."

"Now that would be impressive.

“Wouldn't it? She'd look killer in a catsuit and heels.”

“OK, you ruined it.”

“Nah, I made it better.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I will, cheers. Now let's go sort this shit out.”

“Lead the way.”

Ch 2: Dinner

Taglist: @littleredwing89 @ilikw @bubbles-incorrect-yb @megumisbabymama @nutmeg030 @gone-batty-fics @lovelyrissa @igotanidea @parkjammys @princessbl0ss0m

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #jason todd fanfic #x reader #red hood fanfic #No Capes AU #School Trip Fic. #Teacher Au

[greycaelum]

Kaleidoscope Series—Covet Me: { Verdict }

—Mafia Gojo X Ex-Assassin Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

"I change my mind, I'm gonna wait inside. It's hot, I hate sunburn." Satoru hummed, removing his slippers and leaning against the headboard. His strong biceps flexed as he puts his hands behind his head, smirking at Akina.

Her eyes rolled and let him be, she doesn't have the energy to play with him early in the morning.

"The seagulls."

"Hmm? What about them?"

Akina walks to the connecting bathroom. "The breakfast in the deck."

Satoru cursed and leaps out of the bed and out of the room.

𑁍 Genre: domestic life, violence, dark themes, yandere tendencies

𑁍 CW/TW: (4.5k)— assassination, handling of guns, luxury life, violence, underground auction, mentions of killing, yandere gojo, mutual understanding

𑁍 A/N: Hi everyone, so I finally had a little time off after the first sem, and tomorrow is the start of our 2nd sem, before that starts here's a little something I've been working on, I'll see you on the next one~ —Grey,

"Target in sight," She uttered against the bluetooth headset while adjusting the scope of her M107 sniper rifle from the rooftop of the 57-floor building aiming the crossfire on the window of the hotel 1500 meters away from her spot. The night camouflaged her from the eyes of anyone daring to interrupt her job.

"I need him dead before midnight 1603," the person behind the other line spoke in a languid manner.

"Understood."

1603

She was raised in the institution, and most of them were children sold by their parents to the organization in exchange for a hefty sum of money.

From then on children like her lose their names and identity. In exchange for food, shelter, and clothes. They are children turned into pawns, forced to play soldiers. And all that matters is the orders of the organization.

As long as she follows the orders everything will be taken care of, for someone like her who have nothing but the organization, their orders are absolute.

The room-lit-up window drapes are pulled open granting her better access to the target's movement and position.

Dangerous index finger hovers over the trigger of the gun, waiting for the perfect timing, eyes, and mind in total concentration to keep her focused, after years of doing this she's already used to relying upon her instincts rather than calculations.

The head of the target peeks through the fabric oblivious of the impending bullet about to hit his skull.

Finger tug the trigger, the sound of the sniper silenced by the shattering of the glass, her job is done, she stood up from the floor and pack her sniper going down the building and took off her wig and black suit, stuffing the gun into the nearest waste segregation and hail a cab.

Someone will come and get her equipment all she needs is to throw off any possible lap dogs trailing behind her. Hopping from one taxi to taxi to the nearest marina, walking to the east wing there's a luxury yacht with Dullahan Head branded on the side-climbing aboard she's greeted by her manager showing the breaking news of the Russian diplomat assassinated just a few minutes ago.

"The Headmaster is waiting in Taiwan, be prepared for your next mission 10 days from now." The man disappeared in the shadow, leaving her in front of her designated cabin.

No suggestions or objections are permitted. There's just 'go' and 'yes' in every mission assigned whether they like it or not.

Entering her cabin she took a cold shower and let herself go on autopilot. Her body followed the rocking of the yacht, setting sail away from the harbor to who knows where.

Her life is already decided. Follow the instructions until you die, all for the organization. That's all, other things are unnecessary.

Drying her hair she looks out the porthole as they travel through the ocean.

"How does it feel to be wild and free?" Staring at the waves that seem no care as they continue to billow through the ocean, undisturbed and constantly. So peace yet drowning.

Closing her eyes she dozes into a dreamless slumber. Letting her head go into the clouds and fall deep into a dreamless sleep.

Even in her dreams, she has nothing but darkness.

"Your next assignment is Gojo Satoru's extermination."

In the dimly lit room, she stood in the center of the spacious room, on the far end is a person sitting hidden in the shadows.

"..."

Extermination...? Not assassination.

"The information about the mission will be sent to you along with the travel. You have 15 days."

That long? She blinks. The usual mission only has a 3-5 day deadline. This is the first time she ever received a 15-day assignment.

Was Gojo Satoru that hard to kill?

"Yes, Sir." Saluting, she accepted the file and left to finish another usual mission.

"Move or your skull explodes." The cold muzzle of the gun kisses the back of her head.

Her eyes darted down to the window where Gojo Satoru stood, his hand supporting his face and a palpable smile on his calm face.

No wonder the organization gave her 15 days to kill him, he easily tracked down and destroyed the plan which landed her at the mercy of the man holding the gun behind her, undoubtedly working for Gojo Satoru.

She'd rather die than betray her organization...

...

"Akina?"

Insistent knocking roused her from slumber. Her eyes opened and the low ceiling greeted her good morning, the gentle rocking of the floor followed by the sound of waves hitting a surface finally woke her from her dazed state.

"You awake? Breakfast is in the deck." The door opened and Gojo Satoru in a casual white sleeveless shirt and grey cotton shorts came in. "What's wrong?" Receiving no reply, Satoru's smiling face morphed into a worried frown, and sit by the edge of the bed. "Bad dreams?"

She nodded and drowsily rubbed her eyes. Clearing the blurriness of her eyes she turn to the side and saw the blue sea through the porthole.

"I went out of bed to make breakfast, next time I'll stay in bed with you 'til you wake up." Satoru's hands reach to smooth the wild tangled hair on Akina's head.

"I'm not a kid," a subtle pout formed on Akina's lips. Satoru chuckled and run the bridge of her nose with his finger. But it was swatted away with a glare.

"Go wash up, I'll wait for you outside. Shoko and Suguru will be here any moment."

"Mn," she nods and peels off the blanket from her lithe frame. "Out?" She turned to Satoru who is looking at her intently, then pointed to the door and repeated. "Out?"

"I change my mind, I'm gonna wait inside. It's hot, I hate sunburn." Satoru hummed, removing his slippers and leaning against the headboard. His strong biceps flexed as he puts his hands behind his head, smirking at Akina.

Her eyes rolled and let him be, she doesn't have the energy to play with him early in the morning.

"The seagulls."

"Hmm? What about them?"

Akina walks to the connecting bathroom. "The breakfast in the deck."

Satoru cursed and leaps out of the bed and out of the room.

Silly guy... She entered the bathroom and immediately cleans herself.

She has always thought that all her life she will be that 1603, an assassin of the organization. She'd rather die than betray her organization... But her organization doesn't think of the same. She was their soldier, a sacrificial pawn, no more no less. But here she is now, with her past target now turned benefactor.

Ironic how the people who fostered her can easily discard her like used paper to the trash can.

Never in her wildest dreams, she would've thought that the person she was bound to kill would covet her and change her life so much bringing her out of the hellhole she thought was her home. Life sure has strange tastes in playing the game.

"I heard the salted caramel fudge there tastes great, we should drop by before checking in the hotel."

Satoru pushes his aviators up to the bridge of his nose while licking off the sauce from his thumb.

"We're going there for a job, don't sidetrack."

Satoru's cheeks puffed out and pouted from the dismissive remark. This a rare display of childishness from the Mafia Don.

"Akina-channn~ don't be so uptight." He tutted, stealthily putting a little of this and a little of that on Akina's plate already filled with food.

Akina disregard the coquetry from the male and continued eating. The yacht is anchored in between who knows where of the ocean and the relatively serene waters along with the sumptuous breakfast in front of them bringing a sense of peacefulness.

"Speaking of job, after the job, where should we go?" Satoru hummed, retracing his hand back to his plate after satisfyingly filling a small hill of food on the lady's plate.

"Home," Akina replied.

Satoru froze. Satoru has one home, the hidden mansion by the mountain. Akina however grew up in the facility of her organization which couldn't even pass up to be called a domicile. More like a slaughterhouse. And that sniper has long been 'dead' in the paper. There's only his Akina. If there's 'home' for her it would only mean one place. Satoru's lips smiled softly and stare at the lady's untroubled countenance.

"Alright. Home it is."

Their breakfast was interrupted by the sound of a chopper, slowing down as it was near their yacht and maneuvering to land on the helipad.

From the corner of the stairs, Suguru and Shoko descended with bags in their hand.

"The auction is starting tomorrow evening. We should dock in the marina tomorrow morning." Suguru greeted you and pulled a chair beside Satoru for himself. Shoko followed and sat beside you.

"Why not later evening?" Shoko frowned.

"Higher possibility of ambush." Akina supplied. "Also lesser chances of being traced if we arrive late."

Satoru snaps his fingers and reaches for the long case that Suguru is holding.

"I got something for you." He turned to Akina and extended the long black case. "You don't need it now, but just in case you should be prepared."

Akina accepted the case and carefully laid it on the yacht's flooring. Unlocking the safety hatches, her fingers raise the flap open. Behind her, Satoru's smile grew wider, a trace of pride and joy as Akina's blank face morphed into astonishment to awe to a gentle smile. Her fingers caress the shiny raven metal with delicate care.

"I had it fixed. Since I also broke it. I hope you like it." Satoru chuckled.

Suguru ears flared a tint of pink and conspicuously cleared his throat. Technically it was he who destroyed the sniper rifle, under Satoru's orders of course.

"I... appreciate it." She nod and lifted the gun. Testing the waters, she checked if it was loaded and aimed at the open sea.

"Try this." Satoru threw an apple into the air and Akina pulled the trigger.

The hole pierced through the fruit, smoking with a thin screen before it fell into the waters.

Suguru threw a banana and it was followed by two 'bangs' and fell to the waters.

"Two shots?" And it all hit. Suguru stared at the lady, checking the scope of the gun.

"Check this one," Satoru threw a blueberry and Akina pulled the trigger, hitting the thumb-size berry with ease.

"Put a silencer, you're hurting my ears," Shoko mumbled. The three of them continued playing around, shooting targets until the sun rose high and they went inside the yacht's cabin to cool down the heat.

Contrary to their plan, Akina and Shoko was left to roam around the city while Satoru and Suguru went to the auction.

Akina fiddled with the black card in her hand. Satoru gave her several cards under her name but she's never used any of them. It's not like she's used going to shopping. Satoru in their free time would drag her to go down the mountain to the city and stroll around the luxury boutiques and establishment that screams 'not for peasants', aside from that nothing more. She doesn't have many wants, and whatever she essentially needs is provided in the mansion. There's nothing much to buy.

Satoru on the other hand... Has a bad habit of indecisiveness during shopping. When he says he's just buying eyeglasses, but when he comes out of that store, he has two to three more purchases.

"Is there something bothering you Akina?" Shoko waved her hand before the dazed lady.

"I was thinking what time will the auction end."

"They'll probably be back tomorrow. Rozen Croix Auction can last for a week. It depends on what day the item will be presented." Shoko puffed out a cloud of smoke and drop the ashes of her cigarette on the tray.

"Do you think they'll get what they want by today?"

"I also don't know. But don't worry too much. They can handle it."

Rozen Croix... An underground auction hosted by an anonymous organization that sells anything. She has attended it once. And it didn't end as planned. She lost people before she could secure what the organization wanted to get. Really... It fits its name. A cross of roses.

"Should we get something to eat?" Shoko pointed to the ice cream rolls and tug her from the ominous memories trying to surface.

A day passed and neither Satoru nor Suguru came back. Y/n's foreboding thoughts are starting to gnaw at her, leaving her jumpy and restless. Shoko who has been watching over her tried to blow the grey clouds on her head but to no avail.

"Where are you going? It's already late at night." The door opened, and Shoko lean over the door, watching Y/n tighten her holsters and tie off her combat shoes.

"I'm going out. I can't sleep." The case of her sniper has never felt this heavy as she pulled on the adjustment.

Would Shoko stop her? She likes the doctor who has been like an older sister to her. But she would still get out of here by hook or by crook.

They stared for a few seconds and Shoko throw a black pouch at her.

"At least bring first aid. I'm sleepy, so I couldn't notice even if someone sneaks away from the door." Faking a yawn, Shoko leaves and went to her room.

"..." Thank you...

Rozen Croix has a villa designed in a cross surrounded by roses. Bloody red ones filled with thorns. But this is where most newcomers die.

The lights of the mansion are lit, and the auction still going on. When Y/n peeks through the scope of her sniper, there were only eight people doing the bidding.

And one of them has striking white hair, sitting with his legs and arms crossed. A sigh of relief flooded her heart.

The auction seemed to be ending as one by one the people left the room. Satoru however stayed behind. His head turned to the side almost as if he could see through the tall wall of grass Y/n is hiding behind.

Her heart drummed in her throat. Would he get angry if he knew she sneaked away and followed them?

Suguru appeared and seemed to have said something urgent that made Satoru tear away his eyes and quickly left the auction room with a dark look on his face. Only then did Y/n feel it was safe to breathe.

Three days became her routine. Sleep in the morning and sneak away at night. Today is the last day of the auction and the hall is full of famous entities in the underground business. She could hardly spot Satoru until he arrived in his all-white suit contrary to the black suits of the attendees.

What the hell is he planning to buy here? It's been three days and not once did he bid on anything.

"Today's event will be the last. Allow me to present the first item... The background information of Mr. Al-Farssi"

And just like that, what use to be an orderly auction started getting rowdy, with countless fingers, doubling and tripling the previous bid.

How could she forget... The highlight of Rozen Croix. Information bidding. You wouldn't want your dirty laundry to be aired and used against you. The host is a sly one, selling information from birth to the present day and selling it against the person's consent making it easier for his enemies to find cracks in his weakness.

Who could Satoru want?

" For our next item, 1603... An assassin most of you might be familiar with."

What? Curses flew out of Y/n's mouth. Why the fuck is her name there? She's supposed to be dead.

The room went silent. As expected, no one really knew her.

"5 million." A woman raised her five fingers. "US dollars."

Okay... Now that's gotta be some sick joke. She probably killed that woman's husband or son. Great. Fucking great. Y/n blew a frustrated sigh. Did Rozen Croix know she's still alive? Or it's just a blunder on the host's side for not thoroughly checking her status

"5 million, and one dollar." Satoru, for the first time since day one, raised his hand and drawled.

"6 million." The lady raised, shooting a glare in the albino's direction. Back off.

"6 million and a dollar," Satoru smirked. Not a chance.

The room is starting to fill with small chuckles, looking at Satoru and the lady back and forth. The woman however gritted her teeth and raised it again.

"6 million and 10 dollars." Fine, I'll play your damned game. Fuck you.

You sighed. Satoru never fails to piss people off.

"20 million." Satoru shrugged and the room fell silent. Raising a brow at the woman who was seething in her seat. Loser.

"Anyone else?" The ringman look around and seeing no one else raising a hand, held the gavel.

"25 million." The woman regained her posture and clenched her fist.

The room once again started getting louder, in amusement at this strange event.

"25 million and 25 dollars." Satoru rolled his eyes, starting to get bored. His eyes slanted to the outside of the window. His Little Flower seems to be preoccupied to notice his eyes, boring into her sniper scope. She must be getting bored. I need to finish this up quickly.

"30 million." The woman up.

Getting tired of this. Who is this woman? Satoru needs to secure this deal than let his Akina's information fall into the wrong hands.

"50 million."

The gavel rang and the word 'sold' rang out of the room. Satoru bagging the deal away. He needs to get out of here and go back home.

"I got the case. Are we leaving now?" Suguru came back holding a black attache case.

"Find the identity of that woman. I'm picking someone up, wait for me in the car."

He turned to her position but she wasn't there anymore.

"You. Hold it." The cold voice stopped Satoru from crossing the door of the villa.

"What is it? Angry your toy got stolen, Missy?" Satoru slips his hands in his pockets and turns around.

A woman with long blackish-purple hair that extends down her back, with some strands tied behind her head, thin eyebrows, brown eyes, and a scar on the right side of her face that crosses the bridge of her nose. She is slender and of average height.

"How much do you want in exchange for the case?"

For her to be this persistent, this woman must know his Little Flower a lot. Say... a past comrade? Just the thought of it irks Satoru. After they have abandoned her, what else do they want? Take his Little Flower away from him? Not a chance in hell.

"Even if you sell me your soul, I won't give it to you Missy."

Satoru doesn't believe in love. But she shed light on his life. She keeps his heart in peace. Cliche as it could be, but she makes him happy.

His Flower never asked him for anything and it irks him how could she be so contented with complacent life after what she'd been through. He wants to give her everything, anything of her desire. But no... She would simply shrug off and continue playing with the flowers she's arranging in the vase for his office.

It's her simplicity, the calmness in her draws the chaos inside him to a tranquil state.

Only her

"Then I'll take it by force."

The woman lunges forward toward him. Throwing knives slid down her hand and flung them in his direction. She's agile, her body is able to follow Satoru who has practiced mixed martial arts. Not to mention that lying idea behind Satoru that the blade she's using is laced with poison.

A faint sound made Satoru back off and a shell of ammo parted the two of them. His Little Flower walked out of the shadow, holding a pistol, aimed at the two of them.

It takes Satoru back to the day she was finally caught in his trap. It's the same as this, her gun is pointed at his head. It's just that, now, it's pointed at someone else's head.

"You..." Realization dawns on your face.

"Akina, you know this one?" Satoru relaxes his stance and walks towards her. He's right then... He hates people connected to her past life, it invokes the cruel side of him to selfishly keep her by his side at any cost.

It's fine. He tries to reassure himself, even as his heart breaks seeing her fierce face fall down to recognition.

"She use to be my captain and senior. Utahime."

"Oh?" A spark of selfish anger ignited in his guts. His vision is overtaken by the green monster clouding his better judgment.

"Y/n you're alive. Let me look at you." Tears gathered in the eyes of that woman. "Everyone thought you died. Why did you hide it for this long?"

Satoru is more than tempted to cut the arms that tried to reach for his Akina. But her reaction was more than enough to calm the green monster inside him.

She jerked her arms away, stepping back much to the woman's pain and disappointment.

"Did the organization have you retrieve my information?" The wavering in her eyes was replaced with hardness.

"Y/n, come home with me now. I was going to find you after looking into your information. Everyone has been worried sick about you. Remember Paris? The child has been crying for you."

Ah, the oldest trick in the book. Evoking familial emotion and pity.

Akina has her back against Satoru so she cannot see the darkness in his eyes boring into her soul. No matter where you go, I will have you by my side. It's an obsession, something embedded and resounding in his veins. No matter what she chooses, in the end, she'll end up with him and only him. It's like a curse he has never stopped chanting in his darkest dreams.

"The organization abandoned me first. Why should I go back? Wouldn't that make me a fool?"

Good. Very good. It pleases Satoru. The coldness of her voice, the hatred behind her words. Inflict them pain the pain you endured, and pay them back tenfold.

The woman's face crumpled in sadness.

Satoru held a hand over his Flower's shoulder but the sting of her swat threw it off. Dead seriousness is engraved in her eyes.

"Move, I need to talk to her. Alone."

And he leaves. Satoru leaves, because no matter what she says, he'll listen only to her alone.

"Y/n you're coming back with me, right? You're just vying for your time to kill him, right?" Utahime look at her with renewed hope as Satoru went in the waiting car, several meters away.

She use to look up to her. She patched her wounds, sneaked in food, and fed her, keeping her from ultimately falling into the darkness of their work. She looks up to her as a sister would.

"Did you know the organization abandoned me?" She feared this question almost all her life.

"That's not true, the organization needed to fool Satoru, or else he'll use you against us." Utahime pleaded, how much Akina wanted to believe her words. That the people who fostered her never meant to abandon her, that they cared for her, even just a drop, for the sake of her loyalty and effort through the years.

"I... want to believe you." Akina looks at Utahime. She doesn't want to doubt her senior, after all the years of being together. "But this isn't a matter of believing or not. The fact they left me on the brink of my death is enough."

I've had enough of it. That kind of life, taking and taking lives like breathing. Akina lowered her gun.

"The organization never really cared about me. They care about what I knew. In the end, people like me are disposable pawns for them. People like us. The next day they abandoned me, I'm sure there's another kid being trained to replace me. I'm not ignorant. I've paid my due for working all my life for them until now. If the Headmaster is wary I'll speak about the organization, please tell him, I won't. Even if it's Satoru or you, I won't spill a word about what I have done for them. That is the last thing I will do in exchange for the years of feeding me until I could properly shoot a gun." She turned her back on the defeated Utahime, walking to the waiting car.

"He's just using you. How do you know he won't torture you to get information out of you?" Utahime cried, her voice cracking.

"I know. Aren't we all? Just using each other for our own satisfaction. It's up to us how to use each other. It's just that this time, I'm given a choice, and I chose him."

Akina continued walking but stopped before she could reach the car.

"Senior... Please don't look for me ever again. This will be the last time you meet me as that kid in the white room. The next time you try to hurt him, I will kill you."

Since they went home she's been awfully quiet. It doesn't help that it's been raining in the mountains for week-long straight setting the mood as grey as it could be.

On days that he has to handle business in town, he leaves with her staring out of the window and comes back home with her still sitting on that window, accompanied by his two tigers whose big bodies are sleeping on her feet. It takes him back to the first day she stayed here. Bleak and empty.

He tried to divert her attention with conversations but her reply to them was as curt as possible and Satoru can't help but despise that woman for influencing his Flower's thoughts like this. It makes him miserable seeing her in a gloomy mood. If only she knew how many of his subordinates suffered from his irritableness, even Suguru has to reign him down from snapping.

"The hydrangeas are in full bloom today." The first full sentence she has spoken since they went home.

It's drizzling the whole afternoon. Satoru quietly held the umbrella as she walk on the stone path at a slow pace, admiring the blooming varied hydrangeas. The two tigers—Karma and Eros—lounge on the open terrace, despiteful of the rain.

"Sorry about being  so gloomy, I've just had things to think."

"What were you thinking about?"

Leaving him? He stops, turning to face you with a complex look dawning on him at your aching silence. The side of his mouth clenched, and his eyes were dark, dark enough that they were electric blue, a minuscule image of your face inside his gaze. 

His hand moves to hold your cheek halts in its tracks, the warmth of his fingers barely brushing your skin as you turn to him in question. "I can't tell you, and I made up my mind anyway. Nothing can change my mind now." You repeat softly, turning away from him.

You inhaled and point to the vacant spot in the garden. "I think looking out the window would be more fun if we have a lotus pond here."

"I can't do it alone." Satoru sanguine look bore into you.

"No, you're not." Your hand search for his rough palm and tug him to continue walking in the faint afternoon showers.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more.

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned image(s) and song(s) used, belong to their respective owner(s).

General Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @tender-rosiey

#kaleidoscope series #covet me chapters #jjk mafia au #mafia gojo yandere #jjk mafia gojo x assassin reader #mafia gojo x reader #jjk mafia #mafia gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #greycaelum #mafia gojo #jjk gojo x reader

[evanpitars]

Hi!! I was wondering if I could please get an evan peters ship too?

Physical description - I'm 5'9 and I have long and curly dark brown hair and brown eyes. I have a fair skin tone, I'm slim and I've got full lips and fairly large eyes. I also have these dimples that I really like!

Hobbies- I love reading, my favorite genres are poetry, Russian lit, and mysteries! I love learning about new things and knowing a little bit of everything. I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching films very much! I really enjoy dressing up and playing around with makeup.

Personality - It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious; I love being the best at everything I do, but I'm deathly afraid of failure and disappointing the people I love. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I adore big and small romantic gestures and I love domesticity sm!! I also daydream a lot and I can get lost in my own world for hours. I can be quite dramatic and stubborn and I tend to be withdrawn and distant at times. I get frustrated easily and I'm quietly competitive. My love languages are acts of service and quality time. I'm a ravenclaw, my mbti is infp and my enneagram is 4w3!

Thank you very much! I hope you have a wonderful day ahead ❤️

Hello my love! How are you? I think we are the same person because our personalities are similar hahha

As I read your request, I started to realize who would be perfect for you and that someone would be...

* drum sound * 🥁🥁🥁

TATE LANGDON

We could also think about James or even Kyle Spencer, but I will explain the reason for my decision. You seem to be a very deep person, who feels things to the surface and sometimes I feel like Tate is like that. Because of his mommy/daddy issues he would vent to you, find an escape from his problems and the comfort he always needed. Like you, he is a profound person and you would have long conversations, lying in bed, until the early hours of the morning talking about various topics related to life. Our existence, purpose and who we are for sure.

He would admire your intelligence, but as you are afraid of failing and he always felt like a failure, because of Constance who "forces" him to be the perfect son, he would help you understand that in life we cannot be good in all.

You would have a very calm relationship, without secrets and with a lot of mutual trust.

He would try to show his love for you with unexpected acts of service, like reading a book you talked to him about and then coming up to you and surprising you because he finished reading the book too, just because you were interested.

Even though he doesn't seem like a person who likes the outdoors and would prefer to stay at home, he would go for a walk with you, even though he would throw a tantrum about not going.

You would have your own little world with him <3

#ahs coven #ahs fandom #american horror story #kyle spencer #ahs cult #ahs hotel #ahs murder house #evan peters #kai anderson #james march #tate langdon #violet harmon #shipping #matchups

[astradis]

Hi!! I love your matchups so much, I was really happy to see them open again! I was wondering if I could please get one? My name is Ari, I'm 20 and I'd prefer an 18+ match! I use she/her and I'm a straight female.

Personality description - It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people, but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious; I love being the best at everything I do. I sometimes struggle with the hardwork and conviction needed to get there though, I'm also deathly afraid of failure and disappointing the people I love. I'd like to think of myself as funny and witty? I enjoy making people, especially my mother, laugh. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I also daydream a lot and I can get lost in my own world for hours. I can be quite dramatic and stubborn and I tend to be very withdrawn and closed off at times. I get frustrated easily and I'm quietly competitive. My love languages are acts of service and words of affirmation.

Physical description - I'm 5'9 and I have long and curly dark brown hair and brown eyes. I have a fair skin tone, I'm slim and I've got full lips and slight dark circles under my eyes. I wear glasses and I have broad shoulders. I dress mostly in relaxed suits, blazers and coats and I love the occasional dress or sweaters layered over a white button down!

Hobbies/likes - I love reading, my favorite genres are poetry, Russian lit, and mysteries! I also love true crime very much. I love learning about new things and knowing a little bit of everything, I'm very interested in psychology, history, mythology and folklore, and fashion! I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching psychological thrillers and romcoms.

Thank you very much!! I'm sorry if this got too long. Have a great day ❤️

hi ari! thank you so much for your patience, here’s your lover!

STEVE HARRINGTON

you and steve would be quite the happy pair. you’re both very cute- like, i feel like before you two even get together or realize your feelings you both unintentionally express love and admiration for one another. you’d be more verbal about it, like complimenting little things about him throughout the day. telling him his hair looks especially good today, or maybe that his cologne scent is new from the last and you really like it. trust me, it flusters him and he might brush it off at first, but he is absolutely infatuated with you and your little words. steve is more of the type to show it than say it, he would be more vocal when you two both know the feeling is mutual, but beforehand expect him to drive you to work when you feel too lazy to. or maybe even make you some soup when you’re sick and deliver it straight to your window. why can’t he just use the door? he’s too used to climbing.

—

“Hey Steve… Yes, I’m doing fine, this is the fifth time you’ve called me and it’s only twelve… No, I don’t need you to- Steve, you have a job, go do that!… Ugh, fine. Just make sure you’re on a break before you come here… Okay. Okay, thanks… No, it’s- okay, sure. Love you too, see you.”

You hung up the phone in front of you as you rested your elbows against the front desk. You recently picked up a new job from your neighbor who owns a shop not too far into town. He offered you the job after the Starcourt fire and you couldn’t say no. As much as you wished you could work alongside Steve and Robin, you knew professionalism was much more important than personal interest.

The funny thing is, Family Video was right across from you. Why Steve decided to call you each time he wanted to hear from you was a hard question to answer, but the most logical one is that it’s the closest he can get without actually leaving the store. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t take breaks as often as possible to go visit you.

You watched him jog over with a bag in hand, logo reading your favorite fast food restaurant. His goofy smile told you everything you needed to hear, and you smiled back, excited to have both of your favorite things with you at once.

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #st steve harrington

[josiebelladonna]

i’m omnivorous, mostly out of obligation because i’ve had anorexia nervosa which has scarred my digestive system out of sporadic deprivation. if i never had it, i would have gone vegetarian, no question about it.

i’m a fucking artist and writer with extensive background in earth science, nuclear science, and mechanics. my dad’s dad (my grandpa) had two doctorates, one in nuclear science and the other in mathematics—he and i were really close when i was a kid so naturally i picked all that shit up. in terms of math, though, i got as far as vector calculus and i tanked it.

i was an engineering student before i became an artist. hated it hated it hated it, such that it quite literally almost killed me. (it was a combination of being hastily whisked away to school so soon after my parents split, almost dying in a fire, being almost homeless and surrounded by resentful family who would’ve let me starve to death if they had their way, my high school doing fuck all to prepare me, just not being respected, and gen ed classes constantly getting in the way).

i’m a chick who can weld. and solder. and play with wood—as in timber.

i built a formula car from the ground up.

i got on tv when i was 9–my dad and i built a trebuchet for the science fair one year but we didn’t win because we couldn’t showcase what it actually did. the night of, we did, though, and we lit up the whole gym. after… 15 or so minutes, this young woman and a boy with a tv camera came over to me for an interview for a children’s science show on pbs kids (back when they had that).

i’m a singer: got my start singing to myself out in the yard, and then i took choir when i was in elementary school. i started again when i was a teenager and i was in drama club but i was singing to more rock n roll and metal than show tunes, though, because i’m a contralto (not a lot of those in theatre—everyone is either a soprano or a mezzo) and i literally hate my voice, like… who would want to hear me singing? i feel like i can’t carry a tune and i’m not cut out to be on stage. anyway, my biggest influences for singing are chris cornell, billie joe armstrong, trent reznor, eddie vedder, and amy winehouse.

i was born during the waco crisis—i remember that, the oklahoma city bombing, and columbine like how anyone born from 1997 - 2000 remembers 9/11.

i wrote my first short story when i was 6 years old, my first novella when i was 13, my first comic at 14, my first novel at 23, my first novel trilogy (with illustrations) at 26, my first full-length comic at 27, and a million word work at 28.

been reading since i was a toddler.

i can speak nine languages (english, french, german, italian, spanish, latin, danish, russian, and some japanese—i’m teaching myself portuguese right now).

i started making my stupid, butchered-manga, who-would-want-these-in-their-house cartoons when i was 13 while i was bored in class during finals week, the wednesday before christmas break.

i’m into fashion but i’m also a minimalist: jeans and a t-shirt is sometimes all you need.

i’m the first woman in my family to have a background in stem, and the first person to have that plus a background in art as well as having written a book (my grandpa came close to this: i don’t think he’s written a book, at least not from what i remember).

i’m a hockey player, and a baseball player. never broke a bone in my life, though.

i’ve fired a gun—even a shotgun.

i don’t drive, though. at least not legally. i can drive, and probably could in a pinch, but i would run the risk of getting pulled over.

i like watching formula one, cycling, baseball, football, tennis, and swimming.

i’m 41% french and belgian, 32% scottish (you would never guess it, though: i grew up thinking i was native american), 16% irish, 10% scandinavian, 2% portuguese, and 1% baltic.

i’m a blood donor—became a member of the gallon club before i turned 21.

i met and partied with tool when i was 5 years old. i met tony stewart when i was 6. i was mutuals with chris cornell the last three years of his life—he followed me on my now-defunct twitter account before my 22nd birthday. joey belladonna talked about me a couple of days before my 27th birthday. alex skolnick told me he loved me a couple of weeks before my 28th birthday (and the week before my stepdad passed; the night before is when i called alex handsome and it made him blush—for valentines day last year, i made him the cartoon that started it all wouldn’t you know). the trouble twins- i, i mean, eric peterson and steve di giorgio shared art from me this past winter when this whole house literally felt like a freezer.

i don’t have a “real” job, and, on one hand, i do not get the fascination with it—especially since i associate said fascination with apathy of the worst kind—but i also do because you aren’t seen as some freaky, freeloading, panhandling, incompetent dolt, a bump on a log, and a complete waste of space, and you’re taken 1000x more seriously when you do have one.

someone please explain to me what “being proud of your differences” means because i don’t. i’ve never had a popular fic (or popular anything). i’ve never had a “tribe” (pretty sure that’s just a bullshit myth). i’ve entered my art in contests and have gotten more rubbernecking and wide-eyed “are you sure you wanna do this???!!” from assholes in the art world than actually winning or even being acknowledged. i’ve talked about my hopes and dreams, things i want to do, only to have someone chime in with “well, honey, you need money first” or talking me out of it in some way. i’m just really uncomfortable thinking about all of this, too, like why do i have to gravitate towards all of this. and i don’t feel special or interesting for any of it, either, like it’s all just… things that have happened to me. nothing to write home about, like i don’t understand how being unique is a good thing in my eye. i genuinely want someone to explain to me what “being proud of your differences” means because i just find it completely baffling.  i’m supposed to be proud and confident? how?

#text

[helenekuragina]

i shouldve never become mutuals w/ cool ppl who like russian lit now i need to buy eugene onegin and the brothers karamazov

#🪵.txt

[casspurrjoybell-18]

Mutual Desire - Chapter 35a

*Warning - Adult Content*

“Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom," Damien Clark mumbled abruptly.

Damien didn't give Alexander Nabokov time to stop him. 

He quickly set his computer on the table, got up and went to the bathroom. 

He entered and closed the door behind him. 

Instinctively, he stared at the bathroom as a whole, looking for an exit door to escape loosely. 

Unluckily, he found none. 

If this luxurious bathroom had been built with this door leading to the exit, Damien would've sent flowers to the architects and be greatly grateful to them. 

Nothing in the world made him want to go back to where Nabokov was. 

He couldn't and he had to find a way to get out of here. 

He had accomplished the task for which he had come here to do and now that it was done, he had to leave as fast as he could before... 

Before what? 

Damien himself didn't want to guess the possibilities of what would happen if he stayed a minute longer with Nabokov. 

He opened the tap, washed his sweaty hands with soap and took a last look at the big mirror. 

He then took a deep breath, letting a few seconds pass, his hand almost shaking on the door handle before opening it and exiting the bathroom. 

He spotted Nabokov's head who was still in the same position in front of the fireplace. 

Damien walked slowly towards him, like a killer in a movie. 

He wanted to just leave, without having to face Nabokov for the last time but he nonetheless continued to walk towards the billionaire, although everything in him encouraged him to leave. 

Damien walked around the sofa to face Nabokov. 

He was in a position he hated, standing in front of the Russian man, uncovered. 

And Nabokov seemed to greatly benefited from this new position, undressing Damien with his fierce eyes from head to toe and causing Damien to feel self-conscious.

“Uh, I'm leaving now. Thanks for... uh, for this second try," Damien mumbled, his irritation replaced by anxiety.

Nabokov continued scrutinizing Damien intensely, as if he were trying to read him. 

Damien was uncomfortable to say the least.

He had the impression that Nabokov was scanning him all the way to his inside.

“Why don't you stay a little?" Nabokov whispered tenderly.

Why?

Several reasons quickly infiltrated Damien's head. 

One in particular that he was trying to eject from his thoughts.

“I don't want to," Damien deigned to answer.

Nabokov leaned back, stretching out his hand on the top of the couch.

His relaxed posture revealed his entire splendor.

“Is this your way of thanking me for this... second try?"

Damien crossed his arms, feeling a little of his confidence come back. 

The fact that Nabokov expected some sort of reward after blackmailing him was outright insulting. 

This man was completely delirious.

“You've spent almost an hour in my company. Isn't that enough?" Damien snapped back.

A weak grin ended on Nabokov's lips.

“That's exactly it. It isn't enough for me," the Russian man affirmed by nodding slightly.

Damien didn't flinch, keeping a confident face.

“I can't help you with that."

Nabokov raised an eyebrow.

“Of course you can. Just stay."

Damien didn't move, stiffening his features to show his dissatisfaction to Nabokov.

“Please, sit down," Alexander Nabokov claimed with an almost pleading voice.

Damien relaxed the severe expression on his face. 

Nabokov's voice tone had managed to have unwanted effects on his body. 

He found himself wanting to hear this supplicating voice again.

“I really don't want to, Alexander."

Damien didn't intend on giving up so easily. 

For once, he wanted to stand up against the intimidated man and resist his demands.

"Then, what is it that you want?" Nabokov asked, the intensity of his eyes getting stronger.

Damien's Adam's apple went up and down with difficulty. 

This discussion was beginning to suffocate him. 

He didn't like the flaming glow that lit up Nabokov's eyes.

 He let a few seconds pass, fixing Nabokov with a certain assurance, before replying him.

“Nothing that you can give me," he finally replied, challenging the billionaire with a defying stare.

An amused pout crossed Nabokov's lips.

“How did you come to this conclusion when we hardly know each other?”

A rough, almost stifled laugh came out of Damien's mouth.

“That's the problem, isn't it, Alexander ? We don't know each other," Damien said with a certain disappointment that didn't hide the hardness of his tone.

“It was for this very reason that we met up last night. To get to know each other," Nabokov reminded him.

Not knowing what to say, Damien shifted his head to the side, looking into the void to avert the Russian's hypnotizing gaze. 

A few seconds flew away in silence, before Nabokov disturb it.

“What are you afraid of, Damien?"

Damien turned his head to confront Nabokov. 

A confused expression appeared on his face. 

Nothing seemed to explain why Nabokov was conveying this notion of fear into their conversation. 

Damien had no idea what gestures he had made or words he had uttered that had given Nabokov the impression that he was frightened of something. 

Admittedly, Nabokov was undoubtedly a powerful man, able to achieve and obtain all he desires at a snap of a finger. 

Though a dangerous vibe emanated from him, it didn't necessarily equal a feeling of fear or cause Damien to be afraid of the man.

“Afraid?"

Nabokov pushed his chest forward, his back no longer leaning and his arms on his legs. 

His body language showed he had become quite interested in the conversation that was going on between him and Damien.

“Yes, tell me," Nabokov said, encouraging Damien to open up.

“It has nothing to do with being afraid," Damien contradicted him.

Once again, Damien regretted the words he was using because he had just implied another reason existed but that had no connection with fear.

“So, what is it then?" Nabokov questioned Damien, asking him the question he was apprehending.

Damien laughed softly and nervously. 

Nabokov always succeeded in ambushing him with a question to which he had neither the answer nor the desire to respond to it.

“You don't give up, huh."

“Only the weak give up," Nabokov replied unhesitatingly.

Damien blinked, not knowing what his next move or word would be. 

What could he possibly reply to this? 

Damien's lack of comeback reinforced the silence between the two men. 

Nabokov only stared at Damien with an indistinct expression for several seconds. 

Damien would've much preferred a response than this silence and oppressive eyes that he was experimenting.

Nothing could explain why he remained nailed to the ground, undergoing Nabokov's penetrating gaze which was piercing him from everywhere, when he could simply evacuate the place. 

Damien couldn't say how many seconds passed before Nabokov finally decided to break this painful silence.

“Damien, in the next few seconds I want to see you take a seat on this sofa next to me," the Russian man ordered, his voice sounding as low as a whisper.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

WandaNat x Reader : Falling For You

Summary: You finally get everything you ever could’ve wanted.

Covers the “Campfire/Fireplace” square for fall bingo. 

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2,169

* * * * * * 

This was a terrible idea. One you knew you would come to regret agreeing to, but at the moment you were asked to participate, you couldn’t possibly say no.

With the two pairs of gorgeous green eyes staring at you coupled with an annoyingly knowing smirk and an adorable pout, there was no way you could deny their request. 

That’s how you find yourself hiking a trail over fallen leaves, shivers rolling over your body as your two best friends chat away at your side. 

They keep their voices at a low whisper, not allowing you to hear or be a part of their conversation. While you would normally feel some kind of way about it, you’re far too cold to sulk about it.

You furiously run your uncovered hands up and down your arms, hoping the friction of your jacket would warm you up and combat the cold surrounding you. 

Apparently neither of them remembered to check the weather for the day. When you asked Natasha said it was fall and shrugged. 

So you dressed accordingly, jeans, boots, a sweater and a jacket. It isn’t enough. It’s much colder than a normal fall day, instead it feels like the beginning of winter. 

You look down at your feet. The crunch of the leaves beneath your boots is a little louder than usual since the morning dew had frozen, adding a small layer of ice over the dead foliage. 

A huff falls from your lips and you drop your hands, shoving them into your pockets instead. It’s not like your rubbing was doing anything. 

“How much further is this secret destination?” You ask.

Both women look over at you, small frowns on their faces at your tone of voice. You hadn’t meant to snap at them but cold was starting to affect your mood. 

You smile apologetically and Natasha rolls her eyes and chuckles. Wanda knocks her elbow against Natasha’s arm, then moves to your other side.

She wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you close,“ it won’t be much longer detka.” 

“Yeah,” Natasha pulls your hand from your pocket and laces your fingers with hers,“ we’re almost there dorogoy.” 

Detka, dorogoy, lyubov. You have no idea what those words mean but she and Natasha were always calling you them. Sly little smiles would form on their lips when they did and you’d wish you knew why. All they would tell you is that it’s Russian and not a bad thing.

When Natasha squeezes your hand, Wanda lays her head on your shoulder, and you sigh. 

It was things like this that made your friendship with them hard. 

The two of them have been dating since before you even met. You first ran into them at the coffee shop you worked at. They came in and took a seat at a table in the corner and you approached them, almost instantly commenting on how cute they were together. 

Your one comment led to a friendship you couldn’t imagine you’d find with anyone else. Which also led to feelings developing that you fought tooth and nail to reject. 

They first came for Wanda, the younger woman being the first to hangout with you one on one. Her sweet and empathetic behavior and words drew you in like a moth to a flame. 

Then you started spending time with Natasha. Your first hangout was awkward to say the least. You aren’t the most outgoing and Natasha was closed off, it caused very little conversation and very long silences. 

Both of you were tempted to not hangout again without Wanda, but decided to give it one more go. Which is exactly what you needed. You can’t recall how the day started but it ended with you two having a blast at a cat cafe. Your mutual love for the soft purring animal made you close. 

Every second you spent with them made you fall faster. Rejecting your feelings stopped being an option once they’d gotten so strong. Now you try your best to ignore it, though that doesn’t work much either.

Especially not when they’re so affectionate with you like this. 

“Look look, we’re here.” Wanda says, squeezing you excitedly. 

Natasha smiles and shakes her head at her girlfriend’s excitement and as you all turn the curve, your destination now in sight, she looks at you. 

Her smile widens as she watches your eyes brighten. 

To anyone else, a cabin in the woods might not mean much but both women know that to you it's much more than that. A tradition to put it quite plainly.

Your parents made it a point to take you to a cabin when the season changed, wanting you to experience nature and such. 

You hated it at first but it grew to mean so much to you. Not just growing to appreciate nature but also loving every moment spent with your parents, loving the memories you made with them. 

“Wait,” your eyes move from the cabin to Wanda then Nat,“ are we staying here?” 

Pink lips form into the perfect smile and she nods.“ We know you haven’t been in a long time.”

The passing of your parents was rough, without them you never found the will to come to a cabin again even though you’d considered it. When you were finally ready, you didn’t have the time.

Of course you’d shared these thoughts with your best friends and you knew they were listening, but you didn’t think they’d do something about what you told them.

While you were lost in thought, the women were worried. You weren’t saying anything and they couldn’t help but wonder if they’d overstepped. 

Their plan would completely go up in flames if you were uncomfortable with this. 

Swallowing, Wanda unhooks her arm from yours and steps in front of you.“ Y/n, detka, we don’t want you to be uncomfortable so if you don’t want to stay we won’t.”

Her words pull you from your thoughts and you register what she said, which makes you immediately protest. 

“No, no,” you gently grab her hand, squeezing hers and Natasha’s.“ I want to stay I just, was thinking. This is really sweet of you two, thank you.” 

They share a smile, then Wanda excitedly tugs on your hand.“ You haven’t seen the inside yet, come on.” 

With more excitement than you and Natasha combined, Wanda pulls you both to the cabin. She shows you around as if this isn’t her first time being here. You notice she doesn’t mention the bedroom situation but you chalk that up to her excitement and figure there are two bedrooms. 

“This place is beautiful,” you all stop in the living room where you plop down on one of the cozy chairs.“ but I can’t stay. I don’t even have clothes.”

“Oh we took care of that.” Natasha waves you off as she moves off to the side in search of something. 

Wanda answers your confusion.“ What did you think I was doing when I went to your bedroom?”

You nod in understanding, recalling how she stayed behind you and Natasha the whole way down to the car and dipped away to the trunk before you pulled off. 

“Always thinkin of everything huh?” You joke, slouching in your seat. 

Frowning, Wanda comes over to you and reaches down to grab your hands,“ don’t get comfortable here, we’re gonna go sit by the lake and watch the sunset.” She adds a pout and pulls on your hands.

“But it’s so cold out.” You whine, dropping your weight back to make it harder for her to pull you up. 

She doesn’t give up though, continuing and struggling to pull you up. 

A sudden presence appears behind you, the redhead whom you love lowers herself, her mouth right beside your ear.“ Come on dorogoy, we’ll start a fire. Keep you nice and toasty.” Her hand gently rubs your arm and all you can do is nod, seemingly put in a trance by her sultry voice flowing straight into your ear.

Letting up, you allow Wanda to pull you up and you follow the two outside. 

The younger woman laces her fingers with yours as you walk down to the lake. It’s across the trail through a small stretch of trees. 

It’s a welcome sight, seeing the expanse of trees on the other side of the lake and the rocks and logs surrounding a makeshift fire pit. 

You and Wanda sit on a log, taking in the scenery while Natasha set up the fire. The instant you shiver Wanda wraps her arm around you, pulling you into her side and rubbing your arm. You resist the urge to sigh this time, especially when you look over and see the happy smile on her lips. 

The second the fire is lit you feel its warmth added to the body heat coming from Wanda. It knocks the initial chills away, but it’s not until Natasha comes to sit at your other side, that you start to warm up internally. 

She takes your hand, squeezing it as she speaks,“ Y/n there’s another reason we brought you out here.” With a small frown of curiosity you look over at her. Taking a deep breath, she meets your eyes and continues,“ f-for a while now, myself and Wanda have been wondering um,” she stops to collect her words and you’re left utterly shocked.

In the year of you knowing her, not once had you ever seen the redhead look so nervous and be at a loss for words. She is the most badass person you’d ever met and right now a red blush is rising on her cheeks.

“Wondering what?” You decide to turn your attention to Wanda, figuring that Nat could calm down if she weren’t the only center of attention, only to find the brunette is also blushing.“ What is it Wan?” 

Her soft green eyes rise to look into yours and she swallows.“ Well, we figured out that um, we started to feel differently towards you. Like, the feelings we had for each other became feelings that we both had for you.” 

It takes everything in you not to freeze up at her confession. A number of emotions swirl through you and you open your mouth to say something, only to register one particular word.

“Had?”

Wanda’s eyes widen but Natasha answers.“ Have. We currently feel this way about you and we were wondering if you would be interested in being with us?” 

Your face suddenly splits into a grin, one that both women immediately adore seeing.“ Are you being serious?” You ask and they both nod.

All this time you’d been falling for them and it turns out they’d fallen for you too. 

A quiet snicker escapes your lips and you shake your head, earning slightly confused looks from the women.“ You know, if I didn’t have feelings for you two this would’ve been a terrible plan.” 

While you can’t possibly imagine not loving them, you could picture and laugh at the awkwardness that would’ve ensued had you said no and the three of you were stuck up here together. 

“Well I don’t think it would’ve been that bad. We’re still best friends so a little awkwardness maybe but-”

“Nat,” Wanda cuts the redhead off, gaining her attention.“ You’re focusing on the wrong things lyubov.”

It’s then that Natasha addresses the beginning of your statement.“ Wait so you’ll go out with us?” 

Smiling, you nod.“ Yes I will. I’ve never done the whole poly thing but, I’m more than willing to try for you.” You turn your smile to Wanda,“ both of you.” 

They look past you to look at each other, bright smiles exchanged between them. Suddenly Wanda lunges towards you, wrapping you up in a big hug and peppering kiss over your face. 

A snort of a laugh leaves you as she kisses you and you hug her back with one arm, your other still occupied with your hand in Natasha’s. 

“Okay okay Maximoff. I love you too.” You say with another soft laugh.

She pulls back, smiling even brighter. Then a finger curls under your chin and your head is gently turned, eyes meeting another pair of gorgeous green eyes. 

“We love you too detka.” 

Ever so slowly she leans in and kisses you softly. You melt into the kiss, a quiet sigh of content at finally finally being able to do this. And when she pulls away, quickly pecking your lips again, you’re pulled into a kiss with Wanda. 

Her lips are a little softer than Natasha’s and she kisses you with a little more restraint.  

A quiet smack parts your lips and you lean back against Natasha.“ I think I could definitely get used to that.” 

Both women chuckle softly, Wanda leaning back against you and Natasha wrapping both arms around you and the brunette. 

Right there, sandwiched between the two women you love as the heat of the campfire warms you, you’re happy. 

* * * * * *

Taglist: @natasha-danvers @owloftheshadows @yumusak-yastik @blackxwidowsxwife @b-5by5 @fayhar @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout @ecruzsalez 

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat x reader #reader insert #request #storiesofsvufallbingo

[pink-apollo]

💕Nikto showing his face to his S/o💕 | Headcanons |

I honestly didn’t expect my other post to be shared by two of my favorite fanfic writers and my heart was just💕💕💕💕 Like seeing this after work made my over all day just freaking amazing. Please keep up the great work you lovely people🥺🖤

(Originally on my wattpad, figured tumblr could use some more Nikto content. )

Warnings: None, too fluffy for me, I apologize if he is ooc I don’t have him unlocked yet

————————————————————

💜Nikto is a very private person. Let's be honest shall we? He picks and chooses people who he wants to be close with and form a bond with that said person/s.

💜He was never keen on showing his face at all in fear of not only judgment, but that the only thing people know him for. He doesn't want to be known for the things he has endured but rather for his morals and personality.

💜Nikto takes his time with the person he is interested in. Doesn't rush them, he waits patiently, throwing around the idea that he is interested in them and waits for their reaction.

💜Even though his s/o only sees his eyes, they swear that they are the most beautiful thing they have ever seen which makes Nikto all warm and fuzzy on the inside. He's very appreciative of his s/o but fears that maybe they will back away and never want to se him again.

💜Even though he doesn't say it, he is flattered that you enjoy being around him and adore his eyes. It spurs him on a bit to open up but yet fear takes over.

💜It'll probably be when he feels the most calm and at ease that he removes his mask. The fact that you have waited so patiently for him to be comfortable and that he can always rely on you is such a joy.

💜 You can tell by the way he's shifting ever so slightly and eyes frantically looking everywhere but you, that there's something eating at him, making him act unusual from how he normally is which is very calm and collective

💜 The Russian is unsure as he sits on the bed looking down. He hears you call his name and looks up, eyes in a daze as he watches you come closer to him, sitting yourself in front of him legs crossed.

💜How you say his name makes his heart skip a beat as his head perks up from your soft voice.

💜The room is dimly lit, curtains are closed, a lamp on the side of the bed is on but the yellow light looks like it'll burn out soon the longer it stays on.

💜He feels you take his hand into yours as you gently rub his knuckles to ease the tension that was beginning to build up in his hands that were once clenched but now lay limp.

💜With one hand he begins to undo the mask, bit by bit until until he finally takes of the last piece. His hair was short, the lamp giving it a sandy colored look.

💜He felt your hand leave his and flinched for a sec as he saw you reach for his face. He knows you would never hurt him but he can't help but think of the thoughts floating through that pretty little head of yours.

💜He felt the tip of your thumb trace the long scar that was against his cheek, and ever so softly place a gentle kiss. He heard you giggle as you stared at the the stained limp print that was left from you.

💜His head tilted as he was unsure and his eyebrows furrowed at the scene unfolding in front of him

💜It took him a moment before he realized you weren't laughing at him, but at the lipstick stain that he saw in the mirror that was sitting behind you. A sigh of relief came from him as he felt you cup both sides of his face and place a kiss on his scarred lips.

💜Nikito sat there bewildered at the affection you were giving him and was baffled. Nobody has ever seen his face since he was tortured and it hurt to look at it even some days. He felt as if this was too good to be true and maybe even a dream as you sat there, stroking his face with your fingers, tracing every scar, eyes filled up with so much love.

💜Nothing was said as it was a mutual understanding between the both of you. No words were needed to be said. Actions was all that was needed. And that was okay.

💜The wall that was built began to crumble down as he realized that it was okay. He was still a hardy and stubborn person, but moments like this was such a rare feeling. A sigh of content drew from him as he pulled you into his lap as he laid against the headboard of the bed, the pillows supporting his back as you sat in his arms adoring him.

#Call of duty #cod #x reader #modern warfare #nikito x reader

[dreadlockholiday]

Stucky Fic Rec List #2

by @dreadlockholiday

Another Rec List, source: my bookmarks.

Note: the FICS ARE ALL COMPLETE, while the SERIES CONTAINS SOME WIPS.

📖 Next Chapter by NachoDiablo - [Explicit; 15k words]

[Modern AU; Actor!Steve x Writer!Bucky; Tumblr Meet-Cute; Identity Porn; Bottom!Bucky]

Bucky’s life is at a bit of a standstill these days as he commits to embracing his inner hermit, brewing the perfect pour-over, and writing popular fanfic for the Avengers movie franchise. When he strikes up a friendship with Steve, the snarky yet earnest fan of his latest fic, he finds himself opening up for the first time in years. Things get more complicated, however, when Bucky realizes that Steve’s more than just an everyday fan of the Avengers. As he and Steve grow closer, Bucky will have to decide whether or not he’s ready to start moving forward again.

🥀 Just Like Before by romanticallyinept - [Explicit; 3,7k words]

[Canon Divergence; Dom!Steve x Sub!Bucky; Misunderstandings; Explicit Sexual Content; Angst with a Happy Ending]

It wasn’t ever something they talked about. Bucky never said, “I gotta let go sometimes,” and Steve never said he’d always be willing to take the reins. But they knew what worked for them, even without the conversations that Steve has read about, the ones that he knows, now, are so damn important.

He tries not to blame himself too much.

✨ Whenever You're Ready by @maddiewritesstucky - [Explicit; 5k words]

[Modern AU; Exes to Lovers; Getting Back Together; Emotional Sex; Love Confessions; Angst With a Happy Ending]

“Oh...”

It’s so soft, the sound Bucky makes. One tiny word, more breath than anything else, yet it somehow holds all the sentiment of 'of course' and 'how have I lived without this', and Steve is ruined for it.

He’s sixteen again, realising that want begins and ends with Bucky Barnes.

He is seventeen, discovering that the only thing better than getting his hands on Bucky, is getting his mouth on him.

He is eighteen, and nineteen, and twenty; bone-deep certain that for him, there will only ever be Bucky.

“Stevie,” Bucky sighs. He reaches gentle fingertips to brush the hair back off Steve’s forehead; traces the stretch of Steve’s lips around him with all the tender wonder of their youth.

...Steve is thirty-nine, and he will never come back from this.

☀️ For the Summer by steebadore, CoraRochester, art by @fadefilter - [Explicit; 44,2k words]

[Modern AU; Rich!Bucky x Carpenter!Steve; Exes to Lovers; Getting Back Together; Bottom!Bucky; Angst With a Happy Ending]

Fifteen years ago, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes had been two teenagers in love, spending sweltering summers in Eagle Inlet, Steve's sleepy lakeside hometown way up in the Adirondacks. Sure, Bucky's rich family only came up in summertime, but they were off to college soon and they'd be together forever, right?

Not quite.

These days, Bucky's back in town for the summer and it turns out, some hurts—and firsts—are hard to get over.

🏆 Inspecting my bruises (I got them trying to save the world) by Dancey96, art by @deisderium - [Explicit; 34,7k words]

[Modern AU; PR Agent!Bucky x Martial Artist!Steve; Enemies to Lovers; Queer Awakening; Bottom!Bucky; Happy Ending]

In the world of mixed martial arts, the Avengers Combat Tournament is the next level of competition where the athletes are the best of the best and the fighting style is almost superhuman. With hopes to succeed in the sport, Steve Rogers is struggling to garner the attention he needs from the press. Enter Bucky Barnes, a public relations agent with no interest in ACT whatsoever, but with a growing fascination for Steve.

💌 14 Valentines by jehans - [Explicit; 18,9k words]

[Shrunkyclunks; Delivery Guy!Bucky; Amputee Bucky; PTSD; Valentine's Day; Love at First Sight; Sub!Bucky; Bottom!Bucky; Rough Sex]

Someone is trying to woo Steve.

Every day in February leading up to Valentine's Day, Steve is sent an expensive, if a bit impersonal, gift from a secret admirer. And while he's less than impressed by this covert attempt to win his heart, he's very impressed by the sweet, funny, and deeply attractive delivery driver who brings these gifts to his door every day.

Bucky is amazing, and Steve is falling for him hard and fast, but each day that goes by is another day closer to Valentine's Day, and the expected end of his secret admirer's gifts. Steve had better figure out soon if Bucky's clear flirtation with him is serious, or if he's just in it for the chase. Because if he's serious, there are Things Steve would like to do...

🍁 On the nights you feel outnumbered, baby, I'll be out there somewhere by JJK - [Explicit; 12k words]

[Canon Divergence; Nomad!Steve x WW2!Bucky x Planet Hulk!Steve; Threesome M/M/M; Bottom!Bucky; Double Penetration]

“One of me’s not enough for you?” Rogers arched an eyebrow to match.

“Well, when there’s two on offer…” Bucky grinned.

=

or, a Nomad Steve / TFA Bucky / Planet Hulk Steve threesome fic

🐺 The Heart of My Own (burn it down low) by @minka-g - [Mature; 16k words]

[Fantasy AU; Shapeshifters; Russian Mythology and Folklore; Mythical Creatures; Mild Horror; Soulmates; Happy Ending]

As a boy of seven, Bucky sat at his babushka’s feet, listening to her croaky old voice talk of fairy tales and prophesies while her lips curled around a lit Laika, the smoke trickling from her nostrils like a tsmok from one of her stories.

His babushka was horror, and she was memory; a lingering link between a world Bucky’s mother hated and one he saw as fantastical and magical. She was the storyteller, the soothsayer and the bringer of Bucky’s dreams.

She also heralded his nightmares.

----

In a deep, dark forest, a city-weary delivery man finds more than he bargained for.

🌱 Into the Sky by Ellessey - [Teen; 3,9k words]

[Canon Divergence; Recovering!Bucky; Hurt/Comfort; Plants; Romantic Fluff]

"Maybe they were just duds," Steve says, his thumb moving gently over Bucky's hand. "We can get some more."

They were magic beans, that's what the package called them. They were supposed to sprout within a week. They were intended for ages five to ninety-five.

Maybe Bucky's just too goddamn old.

--

Bucky has precious little patience with himself (and even less for his horticultural endeavors), but Steve has more than enough to go around.

+ Bonus Series

🔪 Kinktober 2020 by @wayward-lives - [Explicit; 80,2k words]

Prompts filled: Handjob; Eating Out; Thigh Riding; Choking/Spanking; Daddy Kink; Blinfolded; Blowjob; Voyeurism; Accidental Stimulation; Knife Kink; Restraints; Fingering; Public Sex; Sixty-Nine; Size Difference; Toys; Begging; In the Kitchen; Double Penetration; Edging; Phone Sex; In the Shower/Tub; First Time; BDSM/Rough Sex; Caught Masturbating; Overstimulation; Orgy; Praise Kink; Dirty Talk; Mutual Masturbation; Dressed Up.

#stucky fic rec #stucky fanfic #fic rec #rec list #dready's fic recs #q

[levi-lover]

New Light Part: 1

College Levi x Reader(Modern AU)

W/C: 2.5

T/W: Pretentious Hipster Levi lol 

A/N: Levi is a moody English major who spends his free time reading at the local cafe and yes, I think that is sexy as hell. This is a slowburn piece kinda  inspired by the Hulu show Normal People! I love that show but I could never watch it again bc it breaks my heart too much lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! (Part Two will be up soon! & this picture is from Pinterest)

I’ve put all the parts in one list here:  New Light Masterlist

“I just don’t get it.” You huffed and leaned back into your chair. 

“Don’t worry, this stuff takes time to learn!” Hange looked at you earnestly.

The two of you had been studying at Maria’s Coffee for a few hours. Your genetics midterm was in a few days and you were completely lost. You met Hange on your first week, you anxiously walked into the lecture hall thinking this would be an easy pass to fulfill your science credit. Oh boy, were you wrong. Immediately, you were thrown into the depths of mitosis and chromosomes. The only good thing that came out of it was your new friendship with Hange. On your first day, Hange complimented your sweater and asked if they could sit with you. Hange was a genetics major so this class was easy, hell, it was fun for them. They offered to tutor you so you bought them coffee during your study sessions in return.

“Yeah, you’re right but still,” You said in between sips of your coffee. “How do you like this stuff?” 

“Oh, it’s fascinating to me, it’s crazy how we’re made up of tiny cells and in those cells is our human history but we can’t even see it. It’s like the world’s smallest yet most important puzzle.” Hange’s eyes lit up as they continued speaking. 

You listened and continued to drink your coffee. It was late but the cafe was still busy with college students hurrying to type their papers and study for tests. The lamps left soft yellow shadows on the cream colored walls. The cafe was homey and it felt like it was a cottage pulled straight out of a forest. From the back of the cafe, you could see the entrance. It was raining and people ran across the sidewalk with their jackets over their heads. You laughed through your nose.

“Hey! Are you listening?” Hange questioned. 

“What? Of course, I am. Science is the answer to everything, right?” You quipped. 

Hange rolled their eyes and went back to their textbook. You kept your eyes on the front door. It had been a few days since you had seen your coffee shop friend. The word friend was a loose term for your relationship with the dark-haired boy. Your relationship started one day when you were sitting in the spot you are now, it was late, close to 1 am and after downing two cups of coffee you needed to pee. Across from you was a small man holding a used copy of Slaughterhouse Five, he was dressed in all black and was munching on a muffin. You asked him to watch your stuff, he nodded and pushed his hair away from his gray eyes. From that point on, you developed a friendship founded on your mutual respect for privacy yet concern over each other’s well-being. It became an unspoken rule that this was the only place you would meet. Your attention returned to your work, if he wasn’t going to show up then whatever, he was just another stranger. 

“Hange, I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

“What?! Why?! We haven’t even gotten to the good part, wait until you hear about what happens to the amino acids during replication.” The same familiar look of excitement washed over Hange’s face. 

“Look as exciting as it all sounds, I’m gonna have to pass.” You began to gather your things when the front door opened. You looked up and saw the dark-haired boy. He looked as pretty as always with a beige tote bag draped across his shoulder, droplets of rain hung onto his dark strands. Next to him stood a tall, handsome blonde man who was looking around the cafe. His eyes stopped when he reached your table and he lifted a hand and waved at you. You looked at him confused. 

“LEVIIII!! ERWIIIN!!” Hange yelled and waved their arms. People looked up at them with annoyance. 

“Wait, you know them?” You asked.

“Who, those idiots? Yeah. I forgot to tell you I invited them to study with us. Levi promised to help me write a paper,” Hange said nonchalantly. “Shit! I should have asked you if that’s okay. Is it?” 

You looked down and felt your face redden, “no worries, it’s not a problem.” 

“I’ll introduce you to them, they’re buttheads but they don’t bite.”

You sat back down and looked at your notebook as the dark-haired boy and the tall blonde walked towards you. A bundle of nerves planted themselves in your stomach but you couldn’t understand why. You’ve known this man for a couple of months now, slowly building a friendship at your own pace. It was nice to have control over something in your life for once but life always has a different plan for you; it was time to properly meet the dark-haired boy. All rules are eventually broken.

You ruffled the papers in front of you and took another sip of your drink but it was empty. Shit, you thought. The two men were standing in front of you and Hange at this point. The dark-haired boy looked at you, his brows furrowed.

“Hey, you’re House Coffee,” he said in a monotonous tone.

The blonde man and Hange looked at him confused, “wait, you know her?” Hange asked.

You shook your head, “nope.”

The dark-haired boy looked at you confused.

“Well, kinda, actually,” You muttered.

“Huh, that’s cool!” Hange announced. “Levi’s a little bitch but you probably already knew that.”

“Shut up, Four Eyes,” Levi retorted.

The blonde man laughed, “my name is Erwin. I’m a Political Science and History double major.” He gave you a dashing smile and lifted his hand.

Levi rolled his eyes, “humble much?”

Erwin gave him a glare before returning his clear blue eyes to you. You chuckled and raised your hand to his. It was a firm handshake.

“My name is (Y/N), it’s very nice to meet you, Erwin. And it’s Levi, right?” Your head turned to the dark-haired boy and he blushed slightly. Hange and Erwin exchanged a look.

Hange raised their hands slightly and asked, “I’m confused.”

“When aren’t you.” Levi remarked.  

“Oh, shut it you. I thought you two already knew each other.”

You placed your hands around the empty mug, hoping it would stabilize your nerves. “Know might be a strong word, I guess we’ve seen each other here before?“ You shrugged and looked at Levi.

He nodded, “I agree, we sometimes look after each other’s stuff and talk about books.”

“Good to know. I’m glad Levi has someone else to talk to,” Erwin declared.

They pulled out two chairs and placed them around the table. Erwin pulled out his laptop and his binders, everything was color-coordinated down to the tabs and pens. Levi pulled out a yellow notepad and a beat up copy of On the Road and single black pen. He tried his best to act natural but was unsure how to act around you and his friends. He wasn’t prepared for his two worlds to crash, it wasn’t that he was ashamed to know you. He enjoyed your company but it was something that was special to him. He didn’t want to share those precious late night hours with anyone else but you.

“I’m going to go buy a tea, (Y/N) do you want anything?” Erwin said pointing at your empty cup.

“Uh no-” You were about to say before Levi interrupted you.

“12 oz house coffee, splash of soy,” He stated.

Hange raised their eyebrows, in all their years of friendship he had never bothered to learn their coffee order. Erwin was equally as surprised. You stared at Levi, unsure what to say.

“Alright, you got it,” Erwin said before grabbing your empty mug.

Levi and Erwin got up and walked to the front counter. Hange grabbed your arm and you looked at them surprised.

“How long have you known Levi?” They whispered.

“Uh, like I said, ‘know’ is a strong word but a couple of months. We just sit near each other and sometimes talk. It’s not a big deal.”

“I can’t believe Levi didn’t tell me he knew you,” Hange said in disbelief.

“Did you tell him about me?” You retorted

“No but still. If I knew my two friends knew each other, I would have set this study party together a long ass time ago.”

You shrugged and went back to looking at your notes. By this time, Levi and Erwin were walking back to the table. Erwin was holding a mug of tea and your coffee, Levi was holding a mug of tea in one hand and an apple muffin in another. Erwin handed you your coffee and you thanked him. He sat in front of you and Levi opposite of him. Erwin cleared his throat and asked, “how do you guys know each other?”

“We met in genetics class,” You responded.

“You’re a science major, too?”Erwin asked.

“No, I’m a humanities major but I still need my science requirement so I’m taking this class and majorly regretting it.”

“Hey, it’s not all bad. We’re friends now,” Hange nugged their elbow at you, you gave them a smile and nodded.

“What a reward,” Levi muttered.

You held back a laugh which made Levi smile, he hid it behind his book.

“How do the three of you know each other?” You pointed to the trio.

Hange shot up from their text book and exclaimed,“oh, (Y/N) you’re going to love this so it all started four years ago…”

It was their freshman year, Levi’s uncle had just dropped him off at the dorms and left him alone to unpack. Levi didn’t have much except for a suitcase of clothes, a bed sheet set and a small box of books. He started to put his clothes away in the drawers when the door opened and a lean, tall blonde boy and his father walked in, pulling a cart of the boy’s belongings.

“Hi, you must be my roommate. My name is Erwin,” he stood at the doorway awkwardly waving at Levi.

“Levi.”

“Hello, I’m Erwin’s dad, nice to meet you.”

Levi gave him a small smile and continued to organize his side of the room, it took about fifteen minutes in total. After Erwin’s dad left, Levi and Erwin sat on their respectives beds in silence. It took them awhile but eventually they bonded over their mutual love of Russian poetry. Over the next few weeks, they built a symbiotic relationship filled with chore charts and late night study hangs. Levi genuinely enjoyed Erwin’s presence, he was his first friend outside of his hometown. Erwin felt the same way too. He never had a huge opportunity to meet people since he was homeschooled until his final two years of high school. They had found a companion in each other.

The week before Thanksgiving break, Erwin convinced Levi to host a small gathering in their dorm. Levi hesitantly agreed and Erwin managed to get his hands on a weed brownie. They invited a few of their floormates and shared the goods and drank a single Mike’s Hard Lemonade that Hange brought. They sat on the concrete floor and waited for the weed to hit after thirty minutes, no one was high. One of their floormates, Zeke, took a whiff of the brownie and laughed.

“Erwin, this is a fucking regular brownie,” he glanced at Erwin who was tenderly sipping out of the bottle. Zeke’s roommate, Porco laughed.

“No, it can’t be,” Erwin responded. Hange looked around nervously and Levi glared at Zeke.

“Ha, whatever. This kickback is lame anyways. Let’s go,” Zeke and the others left.

Hange, Erwin, and Levi stayed in silence for a few minutes until Hange spoke, “I thought it was a good brownie.”

Erwin gave them a half-hearted smile and looked down at the bottle. Levi sighed and walked to his closet.

“Now that those fucktards are gone, let’s have a real party,” Levi said as he pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

Erwin looked at Levi, shocked. “How long have you had that?”

“My uncle gave it to me when he dropped me off. As a going away present.” Levi shrugged it off.

The rest of the night was spent taking shots of whiskey and playing cards games, it was the first night of many.

“Wait, really? Erwin you bought a dud brownie.” You held your side as you laughed.

Erwin looked sheepishly at his drink. Levi had a smirk on his face.

“Yeah! Looking back at it now, it’s the funniest thing ever. But those other guys were jerks. I don’t remember their names now or anything but I hope they’re living horrible lives,” Hange proclaimed.

“I believe it and I hope so too.” You wiped a tear from your face and felt Levi’s gaze on you.

Levi had never seen you laugh that hard, he liked this side of you. He went back to notating his book but he couldn’t deny the feeling of warmth in his chest. The four of you remained in comfortable silence for a while. The coffee shop began to slow down as the clock ticked further into the night.

“This has been a lot of fun but I think I’m going to call it,” Erwin’s deep voice broke the silence of the table.

The three of you nodded in agreement and began to pack your bags. You watched Levi’s slender fingers gently put his belongings into his tote bag. His dark hair was getting long, it brushed against his cheek as he moved his body. You looked away quickly, you knew nothing could happen between the two of you but watching him interact with his friends casted a new light on him. Levi, what a name, you thought. For the past couple months, he was your secret friend, someone you could talk to without feeling judged because he was so removed from your everyday life but now, it was different. You both shared a mutual connection and of course, you shared the countless hours spent in this cafe.

The four of you made casual conversation as you exited the cafe. The cold air whipped your face and you tugged your scarf tighter around your neck.

“Hey, do you need a ride? I’m parked a block away,” Erwin asked you.

“Don’t worry, hot stuff. I’ll walk her home.” Hange winked at Erwin, Levi rolled his eyes.

“I live a few blocks away but thank you. It was really nice to meet you Erwin and Levi it’s nice to finally know your name.”

Levi looked down at the ground and a pink glow appeared on his face, “yeah, this was nice.”

You watched them turn around and walk in the opposite direction for a moment before turning to Hange. The air was cool and the clouds had parted, leaving open an endless sky peaking through the buildings and the trees. It had become a ritual for the two of you to walk home after study sessions since you lived a few blocks away from each other. Hange made casual conversation on your walk home but you hardly paid attention. You kept on thinking about Levi and wishing you never learned his name.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi art #aot #levi ackerman x reader fluff #modern levi ackerman #levi aot #aot fic #levi ackerman fic #levi lover fic #attack on titan fic #snk fic #college levi ackerman #new light

[moral-turpitudes]

Russian Roulette

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Guns, Mutual Pining?, Swearing.

Word Count: 1,598

Characters: Tatiana Petrovna x Thomas Shelby

Summary: Tatiana lures Tommy into one of her many games after getting low-balled at a jewelry deal, only further making him regret ever taking a liking to her, or so he thought. 

A/N: I saw this gif on my dash by @justanothershelby​ and immediately had this idea for a lil oneshot loosely inspired by the scene in the show. It was just as chaotic to write out as it was thinking about it so I hope I did them justice lol.

After a drunken, wild night after a jewelry appraisal with the Russians, Tatiana walked towards him, a maniacal grin spreading across her red lips, her eyes looking up at the staircase where the paintings were hanging precariously. She laughed and shook her head at the painting of Grace that was glaring at them as she spoke.

“You needed something more Mr. Shelby. Someone...more. I know that about you. Always wanting something more, but never being quite able to get it...” she said leaning closer to him, her words almost a whisper as she leaned in to kiss him quickly before running down the hallway.

Tommy ran a hand through his hair furiously before yelling after her.

“Tatiana! Put the fucking gun down! Now!” He yelled, running through his dimly lit house.

She ducked behind a wall in Tommy’s study, laughing and inspecting the gun in her hands.

“Tommy I’m bored...Let’s play a game.” She said loud enough for him to hear. He whipped his head around in all directions looking for her, his vision slightly blurred as the alcohol flowed through his system from earlier that night.

“I’m not interested in games now c’mon Tatiana let’s get to bed.” He said, walking to his study.

She hid behind the door and made her breathing shallow, not wanting to blow her little cover she had going. Once he walked in and shut the door she launched herself at his back, gripping onto him like a koala clinging to a tree, and then putting him on the ground in a couple of swift maneuvers despite her tipsy-ness.

“I’ve got you. Now...like I said. I want to play a game.” She said staring into his defeated eyes, too tired to care.

He slid his hands up her thighs, his rough hands grazing the fabric of her dress as he put his hands on her hips.

Straddling him, she brought the gun to her head as she bent down and kissed him.

“You’re a madwoman you know that?” He said as she got up from him and sighed, he stood up as she walked over near his desk, taking the gun away from her head and checking the bullets.

She emptied the barrel except for one bullet, and smirked while raising the gun into the air.

“What’s the point of this life Tommy?” She asked, as he walked closer to her before she pointed the gun at him, making him stop in his tracks.

“To not get shot by a crazy woman.” He said.

“Please for fucks sake put the gun down, love.” He said after a moment, motioning with his hands as she laughed and brought it to her head. The cool metal grazed her temple as she flirted with death and her new love-interest all at once.

“Wrong answer.” She said, pulling the trigger as she closed her eyes. Tommy shouted as the gun clicked, but nothing came firing out.

She looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath before her teary eyes landed on his.

“You see Tommy....the point of this life is to take risks. I know you’re a man of many of them. Sometimes you have to look death in the eye so you can appreciate life...” she said pointing the gun at him. He stared blankly as she moved closer to him, his heart racing as she sulked forward, placing her hand on his chest as she shoved the gun to his temple.

“I’ve seen death. It doesn’t scare me. What about you aye? You spend your days with your family, your jewels, and your fancy houses, you don’t know death...-“ He chuckled mid-sentence. “-you don’t know death like I do.” He said looking into her dark hazel eyes, they flickered like the flames of a wildfire.

She laughed and drew the gun back, firing a blank round at the ceiling as she danced around, her dress swaying as she drunkenly waltzed over to Tommy. He had ducked on the ground, covering his head with a thick book that was nearby just in case it came flying down.

Once she stopped moving around, he lifted the book from his head and looked at her, getting up slowly and quietly as she danced in her own little world.

“Why are you doing this? Aye? Can’t we just fuck or something?” He asked walking towards her.

He grabbed her hand lightly, bringing it to his chest.

She stopped dancing and she pulled her hand away, aiming the gun at him silently.

“If playing your little game will get you to put that fucking gun down then I guess that’s a risk I’m willing to take. Now, why are you doing this?” He asked.

“One question per shot. I have 4 left.” She said giggling.

“You think I slept with you and met with you earlier because I was ordered to.” She said staring into him.

He nodded in response, his eyes wandering to her hand still clutching the gun.

She raised it up and shot at the ceiling, another blank going off.

“You didn’t flinch this time my Mr. Shelby. Good. Maybe you’re finally catching on.” She said, bringing him into a kiss.

“Do you want to kill me?” He asked as she pulled away.

She laughed and shook her head.

“No....At first? Yes...but only because you had your little jewelry appraiser come in to lowball us...” she said. She put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger again, his breathing faltering for a moment as the pin clicked in the gun. He looked at her with no emotion, but his heart sped up after he escaped the guns blow once again.

“Your heart is racing yet you remain so calm. I’m impressed Mr. Shelby.” She said walking away and out towards the staircase.

“Why me? Out of all people...why didn’t you and your family go after someone else?” He asked.

She fired blankly at a nearby vase and then raised the gun at Grace’s portrait.

Tommy saw this and quickly ran over to her before she could shoot, trying to wrestle the gun out of her hand, causing it to go off and blasting a hole in the ceiling.

She smirked and kissed him fervently as the debris fell in shards in the distance, dragging him to the wall where the paintings were, leaving the empty gun abandoned on the floor.

“The game is over Tatiana. Tell me why you’re here or I’m going to put a bullet between your eyes.” He said sternly, the alcohols effects wearing off.

“As much as you think I care about them...my family that is...I’m planning to undermine them. I may not know death like you do, but I die slowly in that mansion all day and night, knowing I can be doing something more. Knowing I can be with someone more....I’m here to get you on my side. I want the jewels and a new start. What do you want Tommy? You must want something since you’ve slept with me and have endured me for this long, no? She asked.

He stared at her, his mind trying to wrap around her words while her hypnotic eyes bore into his.

“You want to be happy. You want to feel alive. Right?” She asked draping her hands around his neck as he pulled her closer.

“Join me. Help me take them down and join me. You deserve someone who can make you feel alive again...” She said kissing him. His mind protested the thought, he couldn’t leave his family. He couldn’t leave the company, and he most certainly couldn’t leave Graces memory behind. Her memory lived in their son, in the dark spaces of his mind, and in every breath he took. Her memory would only die out when he did and no one seemed to understand that, not even Tatiana.

“You can’t move on can you? No matter what I do, she’ll still be there.” She said.

“Yes. Yes she will. I can’t help you Tatiana...whatever we had, we had because of business. But I can’t join you.” He said sternly.

Her eyes fell and she struggled out of his embrace, walking up the stairs to grab her things. When she came back down, she went over to the painting and looked at it.

“Such a shame...You’d rather fall in love with the ghost of her rather than a real person. Do you ever think of the people who are right in front of you?” She asked, walking over and standing before him. Taking his hand in hers before heading out the door, leaving in it a small gold ring that fit on his middle finger.

Tommy sighed as he took in her words. Watching her get into her car and leaving towards town, accepting the fact that he’d never see the likes of her chaotic beauty ever again.

The next morning at the shops, he looked like hell. Having stayed up most of the night racking his brain and drinking after her departure.

“Bloody hell! Did Tatiana’s meeting go on all night? You look like shit.” Ada said crossing her arms as she sat down.

“What happened?” She asked.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what happened, the whole night popping up in his mind as a frantic blur. She may as well be a memory, just like Grace. But he smiled slightly, looking down at the golden ring he had put on his middle finger. A chaotic reminder about taking new risks.

“Russian Roulette.” He said, before lighting a cigarette and staring off out the window.

Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma

#idk what this is but I kinda like it? #peaky blinders #katiesfics #katiesWIPlist #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tatiana petrovna #tatiana x tommy #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders oneshots #katiestaglist

[dotaccountant]

(LOVIE SIMONE, 23, FEMALE, SHE/HER) ⮕ Hey, isn’t that [DOROTHEA “DOT” HARTLEY]? I heard that they were a part of the crew. According to the wiki it says they’re the [ACCOUNTANT] of the group. Avid fans say that they’re [PRAGMATIC], but that they can also be [MOODY]. Maybe that’s because they’re a [CAPRICORN]. This gossip forum says they joined the group because [SHE NEEDS THE MONEY]. I wonder if that’s true. I also heard they [DO NOT] believe in ghosts. I wonder if their time in arcane inc will change that. (peyton, 23, est.)

mun info.

hey girly! just wanted to let you know i literally cannot handle this right now :)

uhh okay!! my name is peyton, i’m 23, i’m a college senior, i’m a libra, i’ve been rping for [redacted] years. i managed to escape for like two years until quarantine hit so here i am, like a dog going back to its’ vomit. i’m an illiterate roman roy enthusiast lesbian who is just excited to be here. my discord is ilyinichna#9370 (not me outing myself as a russian lit nerd. disgusting). please feel free to add me!!!

some cheeky stats.

full name: dorothea eloise hartley nicknames: dot by the crew, dottie exclusively by her mother, lame ass nerd by me birthdate: december 31st, 1997 occupation: accountant for arcane inc. nationality: american

orientation: bisexual moral alignment: lawful good myers-briggs: infp temperament: melancholic

about.

it snowed the day dot was born, her mother would say fondly as she reminisced of better times for the two. edna hartley always made it a point to say no matter what she was conceived out of love and for awhile, dot believed that. her parents met when her mother was touring europe and she fell for a charming french aspiring writer, louis, who said all of the right things. not long after their summer romance, edna found out she was pregnant and at first louis was thrilled. he proposed on the spot. edna had dreams of becoming a stage actress so the two flew out to a shoebox apartment in new york to start their little family.

except edna never got her big break and louis never even started the next great novel and the bills were piling up. they were getting money from edna’s family, but louis’s pride wouldn’t accept it any longer. he took two jobs while edna stayed home with baby dot. 

she loved dot and dot herself never doubted it, but she was certainly not ready to be a mother. she was immature and treated her only daughter more like a best friend than her child. taking care of a child all day with no escape took a strain on edna and eventually took a strain on her marriage. what started as harsh whispers would soon turn into screaming matches that dot could hear through the thin walls. it was that way for years and dot looked at her parents differently. she had resentment for her father and the feeling was mutual, he blamed them for the fact he never achieved his dream. the older dot grew she soon was the one taking care of edna, who some days couldn’t even get out of bed.

dot comes home from school at fifteen to see her and edna’s bags packed. she says the two of them are going to california and dot goes with her without any hesitation. a new start was what they needed, they could look out for each other.

except it wasn’t. edna and dot both work odd jobs to make ends meet and when dot isn’t at school she’s accompanying her mother to auditions that she doesn’t get called back for. she scores a few commercials which is enough to keep them afloat for a brief amount of time. much of dot’s teen years are spent apartment hopping, couch surfing, and sleeping in motels throughout LA. if she was younger she might have been charmed by their vagabond lifestyle, but dot knew they couldn’t live that way forever.

if anything, dot learned a lot about how money worked when she was young. she always had a knack for numbers and after crunching the numbers to figure out if you could pay your electric bill for the month really gives you an advantage. she learned how to budget because no one else was going to. 

she’s working a job doing data entry when she first hears of arcane inc. one of her coworkers wouldn’t stop talking about them. dot isn’t interested as she’s never though much about the supernatural, chalking up companies like arcane to exploit people’s fears. no thanks. her mother believed in spirits enough for the both of them. (besides if karma was real, she would’ve seen a check from louis for the book deal he got over a year ago).

dot does go down a rabbit hole though when she realizes just how big of a following aracane has. people will really believe anything. the moment she sees that they’re hiring, she sees it as an opportunity. a company with millions of followers has to give their employees a reasonable salary. she didn’t have any real work experience outside of her office job but she was damn good with numbers and she was already used to traveling.

she’s been at arcane inc. for about a year now and still doesn’t really get what all the hype is about but that doesn’t matter. dot makes enough to send money to edna and she’s even started to put money aside to go to college. dot’s never been one to dream big, look at what it did to her parents, so she’s planned out every step without reaching out too far for the stars.

headcanons.

yeah her mom’s a failed theater actress but dot has a really secret love for musicals. you won’t find her ever talking about it though and if anyone found out she’d kill them. not joking don’t text.

her social media presence is little to none. not that she thinks she’s above it but she’s just genuinely bad at keeping up and she doesn’t love being in front of a camera. (her instagram posts are all blurry with bad filters and weird angles, bless her heart).

she’s probably the most stubborn person you will ever meet. i blame it on her being an earth sign i’m just saying a ghost could be right in front of her and she’d go and?

dot’s a really good listener (years of practice) and will take secrets to the grave but she’s pretty bad at giving advice. she doesn’t really know what to do when someone starts crying except give them an awkward pat.

her intuition is pretty good though. she’s good at reading situations she just doesn’t know how to react sometimes.

tw abuse: so while her father was never physically abusive, there was an incident from when she was twelve. he had been drinking and dot got out of bed to get water from the kitchen. he yells at her, as he often did, and throws an empty beer bottle at her. she threw up her arms to defend herself and there are still a few scars from the glass shards.

the way to her heart? anything peppermint which i know is arguably the worst dessert flavor but she can’t get enough of it.

tends to chew on things when she’s working. no pen cap is safe. she usually has candies on her so she has something to munch on.

connection ideas.

i prefer chemistry over anything else!! these are just some ideas to get the ball rolling. (also i am so bad at coming up with connections.)

friends. i mean....yeah jsfdkljfd. as basic as that is she just never had many of those growing up! dot’s kept a few people close but for the first time in her life she’s out of reach from her mother so it’s a good chance to socialize.

more specifically? a best friend. in the same vein but dot would really put this person above everyone else. she’s really loyal and it’d be nice to have such a close bond with someone.

a childhood friend or two too!! she’s moved around quite a bit but she stayed in new york (and she considers when she first moved to la still part of her childhood) for quite a bit, definitely long enough to make a connection!

someone she’s pulling out of trouble maybe. while dot’s not a maternal figure (leave that to the nurturer) she does have a compulsive need to help people out. it’s very frustrating but she can’t stop.

negative nancy. she can be so pessimistic and annoying so she’d appreciate having someone she could just vent to.

exes. it has to be a past relationship because dot is not a hook up person like AT ALL, but she’s human and she likes companionship (sometimes). 

honestly whatever you can think of! cousins, pen pals, unrequited crush (either way), friend crush, enemies, people she avoids, shared interest buddies, good/bad influence!

#( *about. ) #( *ooc. ) #arcaneintro

[writings-in-ebony]

The Black Dahlia - Stucky x Black!Reader

Summary: You just wanted to board your plane but the two men following you have other plans. This is an AU based off of the show Carmen Sandiego, where you also play a female thief who escapes a corrupted organization of thieves. 

Author’s note: Wow! Two submissions in less than 24 hours! Yeah but this might be a one-shot, it might be a series. Who knows. It’s up to you guys. I love the show Carmen Sandiego and wanted to add this concept to the Marvel Universe. As always, likes and reblogs are well received and I love comments and asks! Thanks again, everyone!

Word Count: 1704

Warnings: Bad language

The Black Dahlia

The airport was not too crowded today, mostly because it was a Sunday and the holidays had just recently ended. You were currently standing in line waiting for your luggage to get checked in, looking over the recent data Tony had sent to you that morning. It was a long list of things, but the flight would give you enough time to look over and analyze everything that you needed. Then, you could plan your next steps.

You moved up within the line and noticed something out the corner of your eye. There was a man, a thickly built blonde wearing a Yankees baseball cap and a tightly fitting t-shirt, standing over by the suitcase return. He stood with his hands in his pockets and the way he angled his face, you could decipher that his eyes were aimed straight at you under his thickly tinted sunglasses.

Wow, such an amateur move, you thought to yourself as you pretended not to notice him. The suitcase return hasn’t been activated recently which means he was standing there for nothing. Add that to the fact he was wearing sunglasses in a dimly lit portion of an airport. He told on himself and you had found him.

“Tasha?” you casually asked to the hidden earpiece in your ear?

“Yes, boss?” came a silky Russian accent.

“I’ve got eyes on a blonde over by the suitcase return. Very built and very noticeable,” you provided, stepping up yet again. You were next in line and you rolled your suitcase in front of you.

“Ah, I see.” There was a small pause. “He is definitely here for you. Can’t take his eyes off you. Is he one of your previous friends?” You did a small sweep of your eyes and smiled at the fact you couldn’t even spot Natasha. However, wherever she was, she saw everything. She was very good at her job and stealth was one of her strongest skills. It’s mainly why you hired her.

“Not to break up this chat, but uh…you have a second admirer too. Nine o’clock position,” came Clint’s voice. You darted your eyes to the left and searched. This one was harder to find, but you saw him. He was standing by the information desk, leafing through the travel brochures and informational pamphlets. He, too, was built, but slightly smaller than the blonde. It also didn’t help that he had on the same dark sunglasses. They really, and you meant really, needed to retire those.

You were called to the front by one of the attendants, a friendly-looking elderly woman. “How may I help you, Miss?” You placed your suitcase on the scale and smiled at her, making small conversation and asking the woman how her day was. All the while, the men in the background didn’t shift and watched your every move. It was funny how intensely they stared, yet you knew their efforts would be fruitless.

“All done dearie. Here’s your suitcase number to make sure you can keep track of it. Have a nice flight!” And with that, she tossed your suitcase on the conveyor behind her and you eased away from the counter. Now, you just had to get to your gate. But first, you had to lose Thing 1 and Thing 2.

“Tony,” you said into the earpiece.

“Yes, my lovely Dahlia?” You rolled your eyes. He was such a cornball, but he got the job done.

“Is there a way you can bypass the airport’s security measures and make a few changes for me?”

“What changes you need, babe?”

“I need you to look within the cameras and spot the two men tailing me. One’s blonde and wearing a tight blue shirt and the other is brunette with a large green jacket on. Can’t miss them,” you provided as you weaved through the thick crowd.

“Gotcha.” Furious typing could be heard, and Tony made a sound of triumph as he locked in on the two. “Oh, yeah, they’re definitely following you.”

“Great. I want you to use the airport’s new identification system to lock on these two men and expose them as threats. Make it seem like the police is searching for them. Once you do, airport security will immediately lock on them and we’ll be able to board our plane with no hassle. Got it?”

“Ooooh, petty. I love it,” Tony giggled maniacally.

You looked at your phone once again and looked up the airport’s emergency hotline. Immediately dialing the number, it took two rings before a woman’s voice piped up saying, “Airport Emergency, how may we be of assistance?”

You quickened your breathing, simulating panic and heightened the tone of your voice. “Oh, thank God. Hi. Um, I know this might seem like a pointless call, but I feel as though there are two men who have been following me throughout the entire airport. It’s really freaking me out and I just want to make sure they’re not going to harm me.”

The woman on the other line jumped into action and asked for their descriptions. “Um, one’s a blonde, very muscular, and has on a tight blue shirt. The other one is scarier with shoulder-length brown hair, a stubble, and a thick green jacket. Is that description okay?” You were really selling it and you could hear Clint’s snorting through the earpiece.

“Of course, ma’am. Let me look.” It only took a few seconds before the woman gasped. “Oh my.”

“What is it?!”

“These two men have search warrants out for them. The police are looking to question them on allegations regarding sex trafficking, coercion of a minor, and battery! Ma’am, please hang tight. We are deploying security right now.”

“Oh my God! Thank you! My flight leaves in about ten minutes, so I’ll just sit at my gate.”

“Okay. If you need anything, please call us again.” You thanked the woman profusely and hung up, a smirk crossing your face.

“Wow, Tony. Way to up the criminal offenses.”

“I had to make sure they were quick about it. You know how slow law enforcement is.”

You were about to reply when you felt a large hand grab your elbow. Trained to not react, you calmly looked up at the imposing figure beside you. It was the brunette, his face set in a grim expression as he looked down at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Why, hello, Bucky,” you smiled.

“Don’t ‘Hello, Bucky’ me. It’s the Winter Soldier and you know it,” he growled, hand squeezing the upper part of your elbow. “We’ve been tailing you for some time now and you really think you’re about to hop on that plane and elude us again. Well, you’re not Black Dahlia. You’re not going anywhere but back to the compound.” You didn’t answer and instead turned to the left to look at the blonde who was standing very close to you.

“Hello, Steve. Still wearing that same lame disguise?” His jaw tensed at the comment, but he didn’t reply.

The hand on your elbow pulled you to the side, away from an incoming cart, but it kept its same grip. “You’re not getting away easily. We’re going to go straight out this airport and down to the car, with no problems. If you cause any, we’ll make sure you arrive back to the island with some difficulty walking,” Bucky threatened.

“No, you won’t,” you challenged.

“And why won’t I?” Bucky’s eyes widened at you, wondering if you had lost your goddamn mind. But you didn’t waver.

“Because you and Steve love me.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed and you could hear Steve intake a breath. “No, you don’t get to say that. You stopped loving us when you left us there. When you decided to go your own selfish way and leave us to fend for ourselves! So yeah, we did love you, but you made your choice and proved to us that we were disposable!” His voice rose above a growl, his anger clear as day on his face.

“I never stopped loving you,” you shot back. “I never stopped loving either of you, but I’m not going to give away my life to…to crime and hurting innocent people. That’s not me and I’d rather live without you both than subject myself to that moral torture!” You aimed a glare at Bucky, then composed yourself. It would do no good arguing in the middle of a crowded airport. Too much attention.

You eyed a passing clock, realizing you had five minutes before your flight took off. You also saw that men dressed in thick police gear were approaching from both sides. Now’s the time for your escape. “And while I would love to keep confessing our mutual dislike for each other, I really must catch my flight. And you and Steve must try to leave this airport without getting caught by the police and airport security. I think I heard from a little birdy that you both have arrest warrants for sex trafficking, coercion of a minor and battery.” The men stopped and looked at you, bewildered, then aimed their confused stares at the incoming police. “So, ta-ta boys and I’ll see you at a future date? If you make it out of here, that is.” And with that, you pinched a nerve in Bucky’s arm, causing him to cry out and escaped his grasp, disappearing into the crowd with ease. If they were smart, they wouldn’t follow you and by the looks of it, they didn’t.

You passed the armed men and headed straight for your gate where the flight attendants were preparing to close the doors. Making it just in time and quickly scanning your ticket, you boarded the airplane with ease and went to your first-class seat. Natasha and Clint occupied the two seats behind yours, giving you respectable smirks and a thumbs-up for your cunningness.

As the plane was beginning to roll itself away from the airport, you looked out the window and spotted two figures standing on the roof of the airport, staring at your plane. It was too late, and they knew it. They had failed again and would keep failing. The Black Dahlia never got caught.

#stucky x reader #stucky x black!reader #black!reader #Steve Rogers #bucky barnes #steve x bucky #poc!reader #bucky x reader

[driftwork]

on a small island having useless thoughts in summer

Some things are in our power,others are not in our power. In our power are opinion, sentiment, aversion... (E...)

The world was smaller and the borders were liberatory when we were more active.  But we are decades after those years.. I think the diameter of this small small island is about five or ten  miles at most. A narrow coast road runs alI the way round it, often with sheer drops into the sea off the steep cliffs to the south. But mostly it runs level along the coastline to the north and east. With slopes down to the beaches which alternate between sandy coves and shingle beaches. Occasionally I have stopped and explored these lovely beaches.  On the western end of the island there are concrete groynes  placed to slow the inevitable  erosion of the island. On the south concrete tetrapods are placed to protect the cliffs, gradually becoming a reef as the sea level rises. There are three or four towns, two of which have harbours for small boats and the regular ferries  from the mainland which is five to ten  kilometres to the north.  And its on one of these beaches that I am sitting eating an ice cream, with a cappucino in a takeaway cup, speaking to you.  I am speaking quietly to you because you are lying in the  sunlight, the sea and the sound of the wind on the yachts moored out to sea has made you close your eyes. You are beside me , your body is rising and falling with the rhythm of a sleeping person,  to the rhythmanalysis of a sleeping person. I don't want to wake you so I talk to you quietly about the place. Spacetime perhaps.  your soft brown leather bag is beneath your head. A violent pillow.   Some writers we know would be entranced by this island,  with its seagulls, terns, cormorants, crows, songbirds, trees, hills and rare  insects. The photographs of the bunker archaeology  collated by the council. Perhaps its the island he told us about over cocktails in the snow, before he died, killed by the leviathan. We exist in the net, captured by its almost visible lines, drawn out in the... I can hear you laugh "no no stop this is a lovely day, forget these things just now..." But when I look down I see you are still asleep, I sip coffee and wonder what time it is.  I am phoneless and watchless on this beach. Only you a pen and a notebook, Children run into the water... splash splash splash. I watch.

I found out by chance that he is still alive. The bookseller in the allay behind the town hall, next door to the hairdressers and adjacent  to the ice cream parlour, who likes to pretend that he is still ukrainian even  though he was born on the mainland 80 kilometres up the coast. Do you speak russian well I asked him.  Not at all, hardly at all he replied. A ukrainian  russian newspaper is delivered to the shop a few days after publication, perhaps he reads it? most likely he simply wraps up the books he must post in the pages.   Once a week, once a month in the newspaper, they run a provincial section  of news of the place where he was  born, before his parents took him, that is you  to america.  I remember when you, she and I went there for a  week, staying at the ramshackle dacha that you had inherited and still owned.  I remember the treelined roads, that we rode along on the bikes,  and the open top german car... and sometimes as we drove down the long intricate road into the river valley we would drive through the shadows of the cork oaks. In the village, mostly emptied of people who had deserted this place for the cities and a better  life. And there looking up at me from the opened out pages, on which a book rests which is about to be wrapped for posting, I can see a picture of your smiling face. The face of a man who supposedly died on the other side of the world,  but is now looking at me, not looking at me, as I look at him from a two day old newspaper. It's the same smile I remember from the hospital club, and  the hotel off wardour street from your last trip to london. "Bye S...  see you next year in april" you'd said. Before dying they said in A...  But there you are.  Big, alive, unable to avoid the photograph in a local paper  that ended up here on this small island. This invisible island.

Here we are later,  I wonder if it's him she said, again. What should we do if it is ?  Nothing she said.  It's nearly sunset the sun is setting in the west, the east.  The cypress  trees are lit by the deep yellow of the setting sun.  They were  deep green earlier, now they are yellow and black.  Down the hill on the plauteax leading to the beach there is a cafe,  the smell of Greek food. We walk down the slope. There is a row of houses facing the sea, northwards,  just down the road. The end house,  a short distance away was once Susan Kant's house, she'd landed there from Germany and spent a decade praying they would never find her,  they didn't. Only she was left there, here.  Her husband and mother had never returned even years after the nightmare ended. She never knew what camp they had ended up in, and now was still trying not to talk about them, survivors guilt perhaps.  But we left Susan in peace, we would visit her tomorrow we said,  and went  down to eat moussaka and to drink cheap retsina,  though we ended up drinking Chablis.  Thinking about how he was still alive, how his being alive threatened us, how he'd escaped from the south, travelled across the world to hide out there, there of all places... Was there a trail of bodies and ruined lives behind him enbaling his escape? she wondered quietly between mouthfuls of food.  Probably, I said. Thinking of the monsters he'd spent too much time with,  hiding in plain sight.  THINKing that he could hide  in their culture, traditions and earn money supplying them with the tools of oppression that...  but no it all disappeared.  He (must have) thought, i'll go in, take what's needed, supply them, be valuable,  I will become them,  I'll go when...   as if the monsters he served were harmless. Then they began to come for you.  for you.

I hope he has forgiven me for the way we spoke at the end. If I'd been more reasonable perhaps he'd be here rather than there or dead,  after these few years. I sighed and poured more wine. I wonder what he is called now. She said, tapping the table. How should you address  the man you loved who said see you in April and who vanished half a year later, presumed dead and yet has now appeared in a monochrome image in an un-understandable newspaper... Was he loved down there in exile? Is he loved now? floating down the lines in the liquid modern.   Were you with a man, a lover or friend, perhaps betrayed by them with the inevitable quick exit or was it a slow exit, the run across the face of the earth.  Or was it just furtive moments for the gratification of the body.  Were you mostly alone at night,  in your bed alone. Did anyone say "my love" in the way of the  liquid modern , holding you in their arms.  Did you remember the first night of your escape in Lyon? in the small hotel, the small room with its paisley cloth wallpaper, that was the first night in the run away from Italy. You unable to sleep from fear,  me and the other carriers still awake in the adrenaline rush of the drive north, eventually sleeping in the chair or sofa. How did it feel for you as we paused in our northward trajectory?  From Lyon we dispersed northwards, you by train with a courier who took you to London and your new identity.  Me to Amsterdam, then Belgium and the yacht across the channel and southwards along the coast.  We were never innocent, just smugglers of people.

So seeing the picture of you again,  all the time and memories I had suppressed returned again.  The years returned, tectonic plates shifted. The long recovery into this stable place after the final disastrous runs across europe, losing people on the way, time falling away as the police searched for the few who escaped, me hiding in the alps. Meeting her in the mountains and then in late summer traveling north with her by train, leaving the car in Avignon. A few photographs and unreliable memories are all that remain of that summer.  How did they find us? I spent the summer wondering.    The photograph of her is beautiful,  she is young, recovering from her divorce, a picture of her in profile, reading a book outside a building, a cafe or school perhaps, I don't remember.  There is a second photograph, the book laying open on your stomach, half asleep in the sun, eyes closed, relaxed. Weeks passed.  She took me out of my life,  took me home with her.  I thought she was saving me but really it was mutual.  We changed trains at Lyon, traveling on the fast trains north, in first class, looking like the young couple that we were becoming.  "Come with me, to my house" she said, "In case he is there..."  Her flat was empty,  half the furniture, books, music, all his clothes gone.  I never left.  Time passed. Eventually we left together.  We were both surprised that we stayed together.  Then later after I felt safe to go to my old flat again, to collect some belongings. The shock on your face when you saw me loading hastily packed suitcases, a few books.  "How are you here? " You said,   the look of betrayal on your face.  I shrugged and said i escaped.  And so the photograph reminded me of the betrayal that was the cost of your building a life.  I understood your life and knew you would never understand mine. "How did you have a life?" is the question you never asked me. Did you also betray them ?  The subtext of the utterance. One that I never answered as I never told you about the alps, about how she and i met as I hid waiting for the police to arrive.  The fear I suppressed as we boarded the train and traveled north.  How could you understand a life that wasn't founded on the betrayal of your rescuers ? Did you ever understand why I never spoke of it. Looking at the photograph I got the idea that this time someone had tried to  betray you.  You were building systems you told me, us.  That do what?  I asked.  It was clear that you couldn't tell me, us. Perhaps you thought that it was a step too far, to tell us about your relations to the leviathan. Did you think we were about to take some form of vengeance on you ?

It's a little later,  we are in Y.  A small town or village on the island.  It's not particularly beautiful but in the summer its always full of happy people. The section of the port that you can see from the  dockside is full of pleasure craft, yachts and motorboats,  behind you is a street of restaurants that leads to the square and other shops, tourists and working people pass through, a few fishermen,  sailors,  laborers travelers,  upper class figures imagining... Perhaps its still beautiful because we can be scarcely visible here.  And that's what we did, changed my name to hers.  Adopted new numbers, identities. Pretended I only spoke english.  Becoming english,  learnt how to be monocultural. More interestingly we became monosexual only facing each other.  From the small house we are staying in you can see the sea and further on you can see the hills that run along the centre of the island before sloping down to become cliffs to the south. We spent days and nights looking out to sea. So since we are about to leave this place and travel  back to our home north of london we look at the hills for the last time. The walls of the house are covered with tongue and groove planking,  painted a pale blue colour.  The bedroom had a painting of yachts on the light blue sea.  There was a wardrobe to the right of the bed, in which we had kept clothes and pillows. One of the sliding doors had a long dressing mirror hanging off it. On the walls of the living room,  small paintings and photographs hang.  Two small sofas and an easy chair are lined up together, a bookcase with a a flat screen monitor standing on the top.  This is where I am sitting, waiting for her to return from the local cooperative with food for the night, and a full tank of petrol.  I thought of you in your flat in Shoreditch with your parrot, cats and guilt.  And for the first time since you vanished I thought that something  needed to be done about you, to prevent you from acting again.  What is the point of this life if we don't stop you this time ?  We are catching the last ferry from the island, driving north for three or four hours, she will sleep in the passenger seat. I will be contacting my old friends in the group...  So whilst I wait, i write this note to you.  We know your location and your address will be found soon.  There will be no more trips for you, no more waiting at airports to fly to moscow, madrid or dayton. No more boarding of ships, yachts or driving across the  country searching for a broken down byzantium church. No more betrayed bodies. The mirror of your old age is approaching. The newspaper that brought you back to me, says you may travel to brussels soon. It is a tribute to your life that they admire you, describing you as a man of peace and progress. This letter which is in your hands now, either in brussels or wherever,  is timed   to arrive in your post box the day before the woman from shanghai delivers the heart attack, arriving to see you off, will you see her approaching you? [...] Before this decision is finalized we are on the beach, I drink more coffee. She moves in the sun, her head tilted to one side to get the sun out of her eyes. she mutters something in her sleep. I put my hand on her warm shoulder. She sighs contentedly.

#series 2 #island story #nonfiction