#a special tag for box to keep track of her posts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

staywhelmedbatfam · 3 years

Text

Reunited

~Damian Wayne/Reader~

Summary: You had thought things were going well between you two. That is until he up and left the city without a single word. When he suddenly appeared one night, you made it your mission to get answers.

Hello all! It's been a while since I've posted any fics. The spring semester was kicking my butt and my work is really lacking in employees (as I'm sure a lot of other places are) so I didn't really have time nor the energy to get a lot written. On top of that, I've got plenty of one shots started but no idea how to end them😅

I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to end this one, but I think it’s satisfactory. Enjoy!

***

“Damian?” you asked in a tone of disbelief as you stared at what you thought was his back. He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. A blade quickly found its way to your throat, dangerously close to breaking the skin.

“You will only address him as The Demon’s Head,” the blade wielder growled.

You kept your focus on the person unknown to you, watching from your peripherals, as Damian turned around. Many emotions overcame you now that his identity was confirmed. He raised his hand and made a gesture while walking forward. The blade lowered, the wielder taking a step back from you. With your life no longer in immediate danger, you shifted your gaze to Damian.

His eyes bored into yours as he got closer and finally came to a stop a foot in front of you. He briefly looked away while he spoke to his subordinate, “Leave us.” As they were leaving, Damian’s senses remained alert until he was sure they had exited the room. Now that the two of you were alone, his facial expression softened as his hands came up to hold your face.

“Dam–” you started, only to be cut off by lips meeting yours. Melting into the kiss, you squeezed your eyes shut and your hands found their way to his chest. Tears began to run down your cheeks.

He pulled away all too soon for your liking. Wiping the tears from your face with his thumbs, he continued to hold your face and you stared up at him. “(Y/N)… I apologize for leaving so suddenly. I should have told you. I’m so sorry, Beloved.”

“It’s been months, Damian. I thought something terrible had happened to you, but I never heard from your family. When I finally asked them, they told me you’d left. They never mentioned anything to me because they thought you had said something to me already,” you expressed, eyes shining with new, unshed tears. “And they didn’t get into specifics either. Then I see you and, suddenly, I have a knife to my throat. What in the world is going on?”

“I never imagined this would be how I tell you about any of this. Me leaving without a word was supposed to be the best way to protect you, but I ended up hurting us both instead.” He shut his eyes in anguish for a moment and let out a sigh before continuing. “My mother and grandfather were part of a group called The League of Assassins. I was raised in the League, training to become the perfect soldier and succeed my grandfather as leader. As you know, I went to live with my father at ten years old. The only reason I did was because of an attack on the League’s compound. Mother thought that was for the best at the time. Father never even knew I existed until we showed up in Gotham. While I lived with him, he showed me a better way than what the League had instilled in me. I ended up patrolling the city as Robin alongside him.

“When Mother came to take me back, I decided I would remain in Gotham. The first couple of years in Gotham were rocky, to say the least, but I eventually came to like it. Then you came along. I was instantly drawn to you, no matter how much I told myself I wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship – romantic or platonic. You lit up every room you walked into with that bright, gorgeous smile. I was in deep before I even realized it. You were the light I needed to counter all the darkness in my life. Then, a couple of months before I left, my mother insinuated that she would harm you if I didn’t return to the League. I tried to delay it as long as possible, but then I realized I was only hurting you more.”

Learning all of this new information at once and overcome with emotion, you stammered, “I–I would have come with you–”

“That’s precisely why I didn’t want to tell you. The League… it’s not a place for someone as generous and kind as you, Beloved. Had you come with me, there is no doubt in my mind that my mother would have done something to you anyway because you didn’t meet her standards. Regardless, I didn’t want you to waste the rest of your life being involved with a group of assassins when I know you are meant for so much more.” He leaned down, touching his forehead to yours, and closed his eyes. You shut your eyes too, relishing in the closeness.

Opening your eyes, you sighed before speaking, “So what happens now? I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I have to leave for now, but I promise you – this won’t be the last time you see me.” Damian lowered his voice as he continued, “It’s going to take some time, but I’m working on disbanding the League.”

“Just… be careful. Come back to me in one piece.”

“Your wish is my command.” He brought you in for another kiss, this one lasting a bit longer than the first. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Dami.”

***

After Damian told you about everything he had been keeping secret, you talked to his family. Since then, you’ve gone to the manor on occasion for dinner or even to help with their nighttime activities when they asked. At least the help you provided them never required you to leave the safety of the Batcave.

Even though you knew the details of Damian’s whereabouts now, you were still anxious. He had promised you that you would see each other again. That didn’t stop you from worrying or missing him. You felt empty without him beside you but pushed through each day with the thought that no news was good news.

As time passed, so did special occasions like birthdays, Valentine’s Day, and your anniversary. On the day of each occasion, you received a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Sometimes there was no occasion. You would cry every time, but the flowers weren’t the cause of your tears. No, it was the hand-written note that always came with the flowers. Just seeing Damian’s handwriting was enough to bring tears to your eyes. His words made you cry even harder.

After the first couple of notes, you bought a keepsake box and a journal. The notes got put in the box and you wrote a new entry in the journal after each one. Sometimes you would write an entry even when there was no letter – when you felt like you missed him more than usual.

Your coworkers tried to set you up with someone at one point until you told them you were in a long-distance relationship. They seemed to understand but were confused since you never talked about him. The longer this went on, the more skeptical they became. Questions were asked and you tried to answer them as best as you could without telling them anything they shouldn’t know.

“Seriously, it’s complicated. The circumstances we’re under don’t really allow me to share anything. I appreciate your concern though,” you told them right before leaving work for the day. They all watched you leave and gave each other worried glances.

When you returned to your apartment and unlocked the door, you set your purse and keys down on the entryway table then kicked off your shoes. Letting out a heavy sigh, you entered your bedroom and changed out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. That ended up being shorts and one of Damian’s sweatshirts that you took from his room a few months ago when you were at the manor. You tried not to wear it too often so his scent would last longer. Today, you just felt like you needed to be wrapped up in it.

Exiting your room, you headed for the couch to sit down and watch one of your weekly shows. You almost made it to the couch when a voice made your anxiety skyrocket and your heartbeat speed up.

“You always did look better in my clothes than I did.”

Whipping your head in the direction of your balcony, your eyes began to water. Damian stood inside your apartment, dressed as Robin. “I’m not dreaming, am I? It’s really you?”

“It’s really me, Beloved,” he replied with a serene expression on his face.

Running to him, you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest as the tears spilled down your cheeks. He hugged you tight and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” he whispered against your hair.

You shook your head against his chest. “You’re here. That’s all I care about.”

***

I was thinking about doing something extra with the notes and the journal. Is this something you guys would like to see? Let me know! I appreciate any comments!

Masterlist

Subscribe to Tag List

#damian wayne #older!damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #older!damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #robin #league of assassins

378 notes · View notes

ali-kitkat · 3 years

Text

Strangeness and Charm

MGI 2021 One-Year Anniversary Gift Exchange

hello, im back for a little post for @khneltea you are the recipient for enemies to lovers and by gods i hope you like this! romantic, or well its implied, daminette enemies to lovers! also tagging @issaxcharlie as per requested in the server!

fic is under the cut!

Marinette understood that the bat team was sent to Paris to help her; now that it was just herself against Papillon, but she really wanted to kick Robin’s teeth in. She couldn’t stand him. He was a self-centered, entitled, little shit. How dare he come into her city and tell her how to do her job?

The akuma attacks had been sporadic since she had revoked Chat Noir’s miraculous and the only attack that had occurred since Robin and the rest of the bats had arrived was Mister Pigeon. However, if she was being honest with herself that hardly counted as an attack in her or anyone’s books anymore.

It took all of her self control to not throttle him on the rooftop, after she had cast the miraculous cure, when he said “If this is what qualifies as an attack for you, I would hate to see how you would fare against even one of Gotham’s villains.” She was livid, he had based his opinions on akuma attacks by one attack and one attack only.

He had only been in Paris for a week and this is how he treated her, because of one little flare up by their resident akuma magnet? He had no idea what even counted as an attack in Paris nowadays.

Mister Pigeon? Definitely not.

Siren? Absolutely.

Due to him being close to her in age, she had constantly paired up with him during her nightly patrols and she hated it. She wondered if this was his team's way of trying to get him to socialize or work on his people skills. If so, they were doing an absolutely shit job of it.

At this point she really had debated whether or not being on Batman’s shit list would be worth dangling Robin from the Eiffel Tower by his ankles. She could do it. She knows she could, she had done it before in fact, to Chat before she took his miraculous away from him. In the end, she decided that it wouldn’t be worth the trouble it would cause her; but if she did accidentally hit him with her yo-yo while patrolling with him that night, no one would be the wiser.

She elected to ignore the muttered curses and detoured from her usual route in an attempt to get away from the miserable bastard. Of course, Robin then scolded her for running away and being an inferior hero. At that point she decided to put even more distance between them, only to prevent herself from injuring a potential ally. If he could even be called that with his constant berating and demeanor.

It was then that she heard a scream, an akuma. Kwami, she hoped it wasn’t Sandboy again, especially since his usual appearances were during the night.

She cast a quick glance at Robin and decided to leave him be. She took off in the direction of the scream, he was preoccupied by something on his gauntlet, if the blue light it was emitting was an indicator. Besides she had been fighting akumas for years now, the last thing she needed was Robin’s attitude and chiding rather than his help.

He didn’t need to see her nightmares either if it was in fact Sandboy who was akumatized as well. Sure, she wasn’t exactly the same thirteen year old girl she was when she first started battling akumas but Robin certainly didn’t need any more ammunition to use against her.

He didn’t need to see that her nightmares were of herself, whispering in her ear, telling her to give up. That she was a failure, that she should just let Papillon have the miraculous. It would all be over, it wasn’t like she would remember that she was Ladybug anyways. Whatever wish he would make would erase the current timeline out of existence. She hated seeing it.

When she touched down on the street, the first thing she noticed was that it was empty. There was no sign of any akuma, no destruction or frozen bodies. There wasn’t anything, it was too empty, as if the people had just up and disappeared. It was incredibly unnerving.

Casting another look around, she saw something dart into the shadows of an alleyway. She jumped to a neighboring rooftop and looked down. There it was, the akuma. They didn’t look like anything special, no obnoxious colours or outrageous outfits. Just someone in a simple, sleek suit in muted colours, their hair tied back in a dark braid and a drooping butterfly mask that looked like ruined eyeliner.

They looked up and made eye contact. She flung herself back on the rooftop. The akuma’s eyes looked empty, there was no emotion or life in them. It was disconcerting.

She looked back down into the alleyway to try to get another read on the akuma. They were gone. She rose to her feet and looked around again, just in case she missed something.

“Well, well, well. Look at what we have here,” a low, gravelly voice called out. It sounded as if they had gargled glass. Marinette quickly turned around to see the akuma at the other end of the rooftop. “A little ladybug all alone. Let us see what kind of memories you hold, heroine.”

Then suddenly the akuma was in front of her, arm outstretched and their hand was pressed against her forehead. She watched as her memories played out in real time before her and the akuma. She watched as her memories played side by side, all at once. It was headache inducing.

Marinette saw the first friend she made in almost a decade. She saw Lila threaten her and her friendships. She saw the day she had met Tikki, and the day she had received guardianship of the miracle box from Fu. She watched as flashes of her homelife flashed by, the few happy memories of her parents before the bakery’s popularity increased, before they began to neglect her. Before Lila’s honeyed words ruined what little she had left of them.

She watched as memories of previous akuma attacks played out. Of how Chat Noir acted away from the crowds and cameras, how treated her like an object to be won rather than a person. She watched as she had scrubbed herself raw in the shower after he had touched her, as she scrubbed her teeth after he forced a kiss on her.

She watched as the attacks ended and her reunions with her friends had turned into screaming fits. The shouts of how she was flakey and that if she was just going to hang out with them only to ditch them halfway through their time together that they were no longer going to be friends anymore, that they were better off without her. She watched as Lila smiled from across the room, where she comforted her former friend. As Lila’s promises came to fruition.

She watched as her nightmares flashed by just as quick of her looking in the mirror, looking at the scars that the miraculous cure hadn’t healed. As her reflection had started to speak. That she should give up, let Papillon have the miraculous. That she wasn’t worth it, that she was all alone. As the whispered words of her former friends had joined in. She watched as images of Chat had appeared telling her that she was his and no one else’s.

She watched as she was left to pick up the pieces of her life.

Suddenly she was wrenched back and someone was holding her against their person. She could see one of the bat-themed vigilantes fighting against the akuma, it looked to be Red Hood with the way the streetlight was glinting off his helmet. She could hear herself breathing heavily and could feel the tears streaming down her face as she was swung away from the akuma.

When the person holding her landed on a different rooftop, she wrenched herself out of their arms. She hit the rooftop with a thud and scrambled as far away from them as she could possibly get; then she buried her face in her knees. She covered her ears with her hands, hoping to block out the unrelenting images of her memories and nightmares. She didn’t want to see or hear anything. She certainly didn’t want to see anyone’s pitying looks or hear their scorn. She just wanted to forget, this akuma was most definitely Papillon’s newest masterpiece.

She flinched when a hand settled on her shoulder and tried to inch away from it, without removing her hands from her ears. Unfortunately, the hand remained, grounding her ever so slightly. Finally she gave in and looked up. Robin was watching her, but rather than disdain or pity, his face was pinched with concern. She huffed out a laugh, it was weak and made Robin flinch. She shrugged his hand off and stood; she held her head high and wiped her tears away. Ignoring his questioning looks, she tossed her yo-yo out.

“Ladybug,” he said softly.

“Don’t. Whatever you have to say, keep it to yourself. I don’t care,” she croaked. She didn’t want to hear anything he had to say, she just wanted to be done with this night and its horrors.

“Ladybug,” he repeated. “Regardless of whatever you might think or feel, you are not alone. There are plenty of other heroes who know exactly how you feel, who have been exactly where you are.”

That stopped her in her tracks. Of course Robin of all people had seen her memories, her nightmares and her fears. She turned and glared at him, though she imagined it wasn’t all that effective. What with her tear streaked face and red eyes.

“I know how you feel,” Robin sighed and she deflated. “That your best is not enough, that you, yourself are not good enough. I have been in your shoes. I have felt alone.”

“Well, you certainly don’t act like it,” she sniped bitterly, closing in on herself.

“I apologize,” Robin stated.

“What?”

“I am sorry,” he repeated. “I realize that I may have come off as too brusque and in doing so have diminished your accomplishments.”

“Why?” she asked. “Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to be sorry for. You were right, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just playing at being a hero. My villain just found out my identity and so did all of you and your team.”

“That being, it was not, nor is it, your fault,” he replied. “I made assumptions of which I am at fault for, and of which caused the predicament of which you have found yourself in. You cannot quit or give up because of several imbeciles, because if you do, you let them win. You do not strike me as a sore loser, Ladybug.”

Marinette let out a laugh and watched as Robin’s expression shifted. He no longer looked concerned, but was now smiling wryly at her. She returned the smile. “Thank you Robin.”

“You are welcome,” he said. “Now I believe you have an akuma to take care of? Would you care for some assistance?”

“I would,” she replied.

“I look forward to working with you more,” he said, “Marinette.”

Marinette nodded, feeling her face flush at the way Robin said her name. “I do too Robin. I do too.”

#maribat #daminette #mgi 1 year anniversary #ali-kitkat's writing #ali-kitkat writes #i live

90 notes · View notes

bellaireland1981 · 3 years

Text

Finding Home - Chapter 2

Finding Home: Chapter 2

Pairings: Chris x Fem. OFC Alaina (but basically named reader)

Summary: Alaina moves to Concord, MA for a fresh start. After a fateful run in at a local restaurant shortly after arriving to town, Alaina accepts a teaching job working with Carly and Shanna. The sisters are on a mission to play matchmaker between Alaina and Chris, but her family keeps trying to pull her home and to her childhood best friend Nick. Will Alaina find a new home and the fresh start she’s wanting?

Warnings: None–pure fluff. (Will update in each chapter)

Word count: 4,515 - it got away from me!

A/N- I do not give permission for my work to be copied, translated or posted on any site. Reblogs are always welcome!! I do not know Chris, this is purely fiction from my own imagination (and wishful thinking) THANK YOU SHANNON for grammar checking me!

Tags: @fluffymisha97 @waywardodysseys @denisemarieangelina@nickysurfer28 @crazylittlereader2474 @kelbabyblue@jennmurawski13 @patzammit @arabescapr @ronniemikaelson @thevelvetseries @learning-howto-be-myselfx3

Masterlist Chapter 1

You pulled into the parking lot, parking by the door closest to your classroom and pulled out a keyfob for the building. Before heading inside you grabbed a couple of boxes from the back, trying to minimize the trips you’ll have to take later. You set the bag with your breakfast on top and headed into the building.

Finding your classroom was fairly easy since you’d taken a tour with the principal a few days prior. Relieved to find the door already unlocked, you were easily able to open it and head inside. You carefully set the boxes on the nearest desk. You decided to eat first while your food was still warm, and then you’d start to set up. While eating, you looked around and planned out how you wanted the room set up.

Just as you were finishing your breakfast, someone knocked on the door and came in.

“Hi! You must be Alaina,” she said. “I’m Shanna!”

“Nice to meet you!” you replied. “Carly said you’re also in Special Ed.”

“Yup! My classroom is just a few down from you too, so if you ever need anything, just pop over.” she stated.

“Thank you!” you smiled, “You’ll probably regret that offer when I’m asking a million questions.”

“Not a chance.” she reassured you, “I was new once too. I get it. Carly told me to let you know that if you need help carrying stuff in, we are putting our brother to work today, so just let us know!”

You laughed, recalling your conversation with Chris that morning and his new revenge plot. “I will keep that in mind,” you informed her. “I don’t have anything that’s too heavy though, so I’ll probably be fine.”

“I’ll let you get started.” she remarked. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m looking forward to lunch and getting to know you!”

“Thank you, I’m really looking forward to it as well,” you replied, “just let me know whenever you all are ready. I’ll probably get working and lose all track of time.”

“Sounds good!” she said, heading out of the room.

You quickly immersed yourself in rearranging furniture before tackling bulletin boards. In between moving desks around and starting the boards, you pulled up a playlist on your phone to listen to music while working.

You lost track of time while turning your classroom into a warm and welcoming environment. The music helped with your creative flow as you decorated the room. Currently, you were standing on a table in order to reach the top of a bulletin board, where you were stapling a border, all the while dancing to the song playing from your phone. You were so lost in your own world, you didn’t hear the door open or aware you had an audience.

“Wow, I may have paid more attention if I’d had a teacher like you in high school.” Chris said, startling you. You let out a yelp of shock, spinning around, your hand over your racing heart.

“Holy shit!” you gasped, “Someone needs to put a bell on you. I think I may have just had a heart attack.”

Chris laughed, walking further into the room. “That may have been the first jump scare I didn’t intentionally cause.”

“Christopher!” Carly admonished her brother, walking in behind him. “You cannot kill off the new girl before the year even begins.”

“It’s not entirely his fault,” you acknowledged, “I was jamming out to my playlist and lost in the creative process of setting up this space.”

“It looks really good in here, Alaina.” Chris praised, looking around your almost complete classroom. There were still a few things you needed to bring in from your car but figured you’d do that after lunch.

“Thank you!” you beamed. “This is my favorite part of every school year, to be honest. Redoing bulletin boards, and making everything fresh for students, makes me pumped for the year.”

“I stand by my original statement.” He winked. “I’d have paid more attention with a teacher like you.”

“Ugh,” Shanna rolled her eyes, entering the room. “You’re such a meatball, Chris. He’s right about the room though, it looks amazing.”

“Thanks!” you replied, laughing at her teasing towards her brother.

“Ok, let’s go get some lunch!” Carly said. She then side-eyed Chris, “After my very cold breakfast, I need a nice hot lunch.”

You laughed, glancing at Chris, standing behind Carly. He cheekily grinned and raised his finger to his mouth to say “shh”.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s go feed Grumpy.”

The four of you headed out to the parking lot, Shanna and Carly leading the way.

“I’ll drive, there’s more room in the SUV than in a car.” Carly offered.

“Shotgun!” Shanna yelled quickly, causing everyone to chuckle.

“Guess you’re stuck in the back with me.” Chris said, smirking at you.

“Is it too late to reconsider lunch?” you joked.

“Wow!” he exclaimed, playfully stumbling and clutching his chest. “I’m hurt, Alaina.”

“Oh, we’re definitely keeping this one around!” Carly laughed, looking at Shanna. “I have a feeling she can go toe to toe with our meatball brother.”

“And that’s why you got a cold breakfast this morning.” he fired back, glancing conspiratorially towards you.

The four of you climbed into Carly’s SUV while the siblings discussed the best place to get lunch. Being new, you didn’t have a lot to add to the discussion.

“How about Rossini’s?” Shanna suggested. “We can do pizza or pasta… and it’s really good.”

“Sounds good to me.” Carly agreed. “What do you two think?”

“I never say no to Italian food.” you answered.

“Italian it is!” Chris proclaimed.

Carly drove towards the restaurant, chatting with Shanna about the fall production her drama students would be doing this year. You and Chris were left in the back to strike up a conversation together.

“So, given that you’re from Chicago, which Carly informed me of, I have to ask… are you a Bears fan?” Chris asked, smirking over at you.

“Umm, definitely not.” you replied immediately. “My parents are originally from Wisconsin, so I was raised in a Packer family.”

“I don’t even know if that’s better or worse,” Chris remarked, playfully cringing.

“Better. It’s definitely better.” you laughed.

“I suppose it’s ok,” he acquiesced. “If this is your new home though, you should consider a change in teams.”

“By that logic, my parents would both be Bears fans.” You pointed out, “And don’t you live part-time in LA? Shouldn’t you be a part-time Raiders fan?”

“Touché,” he replied. “You got me there.”

You arrived at the restaurant and everyone headed into the building. Chris, being a gentleman, held the door for the three of you to walk through. Carly and Shanna headed in first. When you passed by Chris, you felt his hand ghost over the middle of your back, guiding you in. The butterflies that had been dormant suddenly erupted in your belly at his touch. You can feel heat creeping over your face and pray nobody notices your reaction.

Chris smiles, noticing your reaction, yet tries to act normal. Lord knows his sisters are probably already planning on trying to pair the two of you up. It would work in his advantage though, he realized, as by their matchmaking, it would mean more time he’d get with you.

The waitress quickly sat you all, making sure to put you in a less busy section to lower the risk of your meal being interrupted. She quickly took your drink orders, then left you to look over the menu while she went to get them.

“The only problem with coming here is that I can never make up my mind on what I want to eat,” Shanna said, looking over her menu. You were seated at a rectangular table with Carly and Shanna on one side and you and Chris on the other. The seats were somewhat close together, causing your leg to occasionally brush against Chris’ leg.

“Everything looks really good.” you agreed.

“I think I’m going to order the grilled salmon.” Chris decided.

“Of course you are,” Carly said, rolling her eyes playfully. “How long are you going to keep the pescetarian diet up for?”

“I happen to like fish and seafood,” Chris said defensively. “I’ll maybe go back to eating other meat, but for now, this works.”

“I could live on seafood,” you stated. “Well, fish at least. If I eat shellfish, I would die. I’m happy to be close to fresh fish now.”

“Well there you go, another thing you two have in common,” Carly remarked, glancing back down at the menu, trying to hide her smile.

“What’s looking good to you, Alaina?” Chris inquired. “Those two are probably doing pizza.”

“I think the Pesto Chicken is winning today.” you replied. You made a mental note to come back sometime because there were several dishes that looked amazing.

“They have a good Pesto Mozzarella pizza too. You should try it sometime.” Shanna said.

The waitress came back, delivered your drinks, and took your orders.

Throughout the meal, the siblings took turns telling embarrassing stories from their childhood, keeping you laughing at their antics. Growing up, it’d just been you and Ryland, and he was several years older than you. You loved the closeness you saw between Carly, Shanna, and Chris.

“Is the fall play set yet, Carly?” Shanna asked, once you’d all finished eating. “I know we were talking about it earlier in the car but you didn’t mention what it is.”

“Yes! I forgot to tell you!” Carly exclaimed. “We got approval and are going to do The Addams Family this year!”

“Costumes for that will be so much fun!” Shanna replied, “And set designs!”

“I’m glad you think so, because I’m definitely recruiting you for that.” Carly declared, already knowing her sister would help regardless.

“Already put to work!” Chris laughed, “I like it though, I might need to check that one out.”

“That sounds like it’ll be a lot of fun for the kids too.” you chimed in with a smile. You’d always been involved in theater growing up. You’d been really shy when you were little so your parents encouraged you to try theater to bring you out of your shell.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of helping, Chris!” Carly said, “And Alaina, I’m always looking for teachers to help out, so if you’re willing I’d love your help too.”

“Oh, so she gets a choice, but I don’t?” Chris asked, feigning outrage. “Enjoy it now, Alaina, she’ll be bossing you around soon enough.”

“I’d love to help.” you expressed with a laugh. “I’m actually a theater nerd. I grew up doing theater, so I’d love the chance to get involved again.”

“Oh, now you’ve done it.” Chris chuckled, “You’re getting recruited for all of Carly’s productions, and as soon as she tells our Mom, you’ll be getting recruited to help with the Concord Youth Theater too.”

“I saw that in the visitor’s guide!” you said happily. “It’s on my list of things to check out. I am planning on catching one of the productions.”

“We’re all very involved in the CYT,” Shanna stated. “Chris is right though, you’re getting recruited.”

“I don’t mind.” You assured them with a curt nod, “I’m happy to help.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the day, you finished setting up your classroom. With Chris’ help, you’d manage to get everything out of your car and into your room a lot faster than if you had to do it on your own.

While helping you and going back and forth from your car to the building, Chris made sure to find opportunities to brush up against you, ghost his hand over the small of your back when holding a door and following you out, any chance really to be close to you. He was finding himself more and more attracted to you, the more time he spent with you.

You were feeling the same way. You’d already been a fan of his work and found him attractive prior to meeting him. The more time you spent with him, the more attracted to him you became. Not the characters he played or the version of himself he showed the public. There’s more to him than what he shows the world.

You were just finishing getting everything set up in your room, when Carly and Shanna walked in.

“That’s enough work for today!” Carly said. “Chris had to leave to do an ASP chat so we don’t have any more muscle for the heavy lifting.”

“I second that.” Shanna agreed. “The rest can wait until the actual school year begins.”

“I definitely need to come back in before the official start, but I agree it’s time to quit for the day.” you informed the two sisters.

“What are your plans this week?” Carly inquired, as you gathered your stuff to head out.

“I found a book on all of the hiking trails nearby, so I’m definitely planning on doing some exploring in nature.” you replied. “I also want to go into Boston and explore before I’m too busy working.”

Shanna beamed, “You should talk to Chris! He legit knows all of the hiking trails within a thirty mile radius and has been on them all.”

“That’s good to know!” you answered. “Probably better to ask someone who’s hiked them rather than just winging it from a book.”

“He’d be more than willing to go with you too and show you the trails.” Carly added, “He’s always going with Dodger.” She toothily smiled, “And you do have his number. So, you should give him a call.” She continued when she saw your look of confusion, “The group text from earlier today!”

Realization washed over you; you had completely forgotten. “Right, of course!” A slight panic settled over you as you became aware you’d have to reach out to him.

“And whenever you want to go into Boston, let us know! We can have a girls’ day and show you around!” Shanna exclaimed. “We’ll take our mom too. She’s fun to hang out with.”

“That sounds amazing,” you agreed, thankful neither of the other two women noticed your inclination of uneasiness about reaching out to Chris instead of vice versa. With each passing day, you were convinced that moving to Massachusetts was the best decision you’d ever made.

~~~~~~

Once you got home you changed and grabbed a drink before deciding to look over the book you’d found on hiking trails, trying to decide which one you wanted to explore first tomorrow. There were several you had already marked as interesting, but you couldn’t decide which one to tackle first.

While contemplating your first hike, your mind starts to wander back over the day and to Chris. Before you could get too caught up in your head, your phone rang. Glancing down, you saw it was Nick calling and immediately picked up.

“Hey, Nick!” you exclaimed, finally able to speak with your best friend.

“Hey, Laney.” he replied, amusement in his voice. “How’s life on the East Coast?”

“Great!” You gushed, “I’ve already made a few friends, and really enjoying my new town. I know I made the right choice.”

“Right for you.” he grumbled under his breath. His tone changed instantly to one of joy, “I’m glad you’re loving it, and happy if you’re happy. I just miss my best friend.”

“I miss you too,” you replied. “It just means you’ll have to come visit.”

“I am working on that,” he retorted. “Your mom keeps dropping hints when I see her about following you out East.”

“Ugh!” you groaned in frustration. “I have tried talking to her about that. I’m sorry, Nick.”

“It’s fine,” he assured you by laughing, “it’s not like she hasn’t been pushing us together since we were kids.”

“True, but it’s still obnoxious.” you agreed. “But it would be cool if you were out here too.”

“Well, I’m looking into some opportunities in New York. So, I’d be in the same time zone and on the same coast.” he stated firmly, and wistfully.

“Nick! That’s exciting!” you declared happily. “I would love to have my best friend closer!”

“Don’t get your hopes up Laney,” he remarked, “I have to audition, and we all know how that goes.”

“Stop Nick, that was one time and you’ve got more experience now.” you affirmed.

“We’ll see,” he said, brushing it off. “So, tell me about these new friends.”

“Holy shit! Nick, you will never guess who I met!” you gushed, happy at long last to tell him everything.

“No clue… help me out here,” he laughed.

“CHRIS EVANS!” you exclaimed. “I met his family first, when I was at Kelly’s for breakfast, remind me to take you there when you come to visit. Anyway, his mom and older sister were there and overheard me talking to Kelly about having just moved here. They struck up a conversation with me about where I was from. When I said I was deciding between two teaching jobs, his sister, Carly, said she worked at LSHS and that it was a great place so that’s the position I accepted.” you paused, taking a breath.

“Wow, been holding that in huh?” he teased. “I’m glad she was able to help you decide on jobs. How exactly did that lead to meeting Chris?”

“He came into the Kelly’s as I was ordering so I saw him there first, then later that day I ran into him, almost literally at Karma, another place I need to take you, and actually exchanged words. Then today I ran into him at Kelly’s again while I was getting breakfast before going to work in my classroom and he was there getting breakfast to take to his sisters. Carly texted us all in a group chat to discuss lunch plans because we're all going to be there working on our classes, and Chris was helping them. Carly says I’m at Kelly’s and Chris turns to me and we introduce ourselves.”

“You were able to talk to him like a normal person, without freaking out?” Nick asked, laughing.

“I may have freaked out on the inside, but that’s my normal, meeting someone new anxiety, not me fangirling.” you defended yourself. “I also kept cool while we were in the back of Carly’s SUV on the way to lunch and when our legs kept brushing against one another while we were eating.”

“Wow, I’m impressed, Laney!” he said. “I take it he’s a nice guy, not overly cocky or the Hollywood type?”

“He’s so down to earth, and easy to be around,” you stated. “I can actually see myself falling for him if I spend more time with him. That kinda scares me.” You frowned at the admission. You had been so wrapped up in telling Nick the story you had pushed aside what you felt until now.

“Spending time with him or falling for him?” Nick asked. He released a sigh, “Would it be so bad falling for him?”

“I definitely want to spend more time with him.” you admitted. “Carly said I should call and ask him about trails to hike. But I’m completely afraid of falling for him. It would be bad, Nick. He’s Chris freaking Evans, and I’m just Alaina from Chicago… a plain, run of the mill Special Education Teacher that tends to be a giant nerd.” You were aware of how rabid people could be when Chris was involved with a woman. You had been put at ease with talking to Nick but now, you were unsure of yourself again. Maybe you shouldn’t bother getting involved with the man. At all.

“I agree with Carly. Call him.” Nick said. “As for the rest of it… you always sell yourself short, Laney. You are worth so much more than you think. He’d be damn lucky to have Alaina from Chicago, nothing plain or run of the mill about her, a Special Education teacher that is definitely a giant nerd, but cute.”

“Thank you, Nick.” you replied, laughing. He knew how to reel you back in. “You might be a bit biased though...being my best friend and all.”

“Nope.” He argued, “I’m the best one to tell you these things because I am your best friend. And as your best friend, I am ordering you to get off the phone with me right now and call him. Or at least text him, since knowing you, you’ll probably hyperventilate at the idea of calling him.”

“We can never not be friends, Nick,” you laughed. “You know too much.”

“This is true,” he agreed. “Now I love you. I will call you tomorrow night and expect full details.”

“Ok, ok, I will.” You assured him, “I love you too. And please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not tell my mom about this.”

“I promise, I won’t say a word.” he replied. “Text him now. Bye, Laney.”

“Ok!” you laughed. “Bye, Nick.”

After hanging up, you set your phone down and took a deep breath. Despite promising to text Chris immediately, you needed a moment to compose yourself. Your phone dinged, notifying you to a new text message. You picked up your phone to read the message, laughing when you see it’s from Nick.

Nick: Alaina, stop procrastinating and text him!

You: How do you know I already haven’t texted him?

Nick: Have you?

You: Umm… well no…. But I COULD have!

Nick: Text him now and send proof or I’m calling your mom.

You: You suck! Ok Ok… I’ll text now.

You closed out of the text with Nick and went to the group chat from this morning. You found the message he sent about breakfast and saved the number to your phone.

Before you lost your nerve and Nick followed through on his threat, you typed out a quick text to Chris.

You: Hey, Chris…it’s Alaina. I’m planning on hiking tomorrow and Carly told me to reach out to you about trails.

You hit send and had a mini freak out, just as Nick had predicted. You sent the screenshot of your text to Nick though, you did not need him telling your mom about this.

He quickly texted back, saying he was proud of you and to keep him posted on the outcome. The uneasiness from earlier today settled over you rampantly. Rather than wait for your phone to alert you to a new message, you got up and busied yourself in the kitchen making a salad for dinner.

You’d just finished putting everything together when your phone rang. You wiped your hands off on the towel and picked it up off the counter, looking at the caller ID. Apparently he prefers calls, you thought as you took a deep breath before accepting the call.

“Hello.” you answered, proud that your voice actually sounded normal, despite your racing heart.

“Hey! I figured calling was easier than texting.” Chris replied. “Unless, you’re busy...we can go back to texting.”

“No, it’s fine!” You reassured him, “I’m not busy.”

“Ok, so you’re planning on hiking tomorrow, huh?” He asked, “How challenging of a trail are you wanting?”

“I’m up for pretty much anything. I’m not new to hiking.” you replied. Most people assumed Chicago lacked those types of activities, but there were many options for hiking and camping around Illinois and Indiana, so you were pretty experienced.

“Ok, Walden Pond has some nice trails, or there’s Chamberlin Woods, Camp Acton…,” he suggested. He then released a chuckle, “There are trails in pretty much any direction around here.”

“I was thinking local, to start.” you replied. “Eventually, I do want to get brave and explore other parts of New England as a whole, but I want to get to know my immediate surroundings.”

“Are you opposed to having company tomorrow?” he inquired. “Or are you wanting to hike alone?”

“I’m definitely not opposed to having company.” you replied then immediately asked, “Think Carly or Shanna wants to hike with me?”

“Wow.” Chris laughed, “I see how it is. I was thinking Dodger and I could join you, but if you’d rather spend the day with my sisters, who aren’t fans of hiking by the way, I guess Dodger and I will just find something else to do.”

“Just kidding!” you teased with a genuine laugh. “I’d love to hike with you and Dodger tomorrow. I’ll have to really work at not fangirling around Dodger. That would be really embarrassing. I’m a big fan of his!”

“You’re killing me, Alaina.” he chuckled, “It’s fair though. I think if I created a Dodger instagram account I’d lose all my followers to him. The boy has more game than I do.”

“Maybe not all of your followers… at least half… but not all.” you assured him. “The other half would leave if you created a sweater Instagram account though...so maybe don’t do that.”

“Good call.” he agreed, laughing. “Ok, Miss sassy pants, do you want to go in the morning or afternoon?”

“Morning is probably better, depending on the trail and length.” you answered.

“Let’s start in the morning, and we can wander around some of the closer trails.” he informed you. “Then if you’re interested, I can show you around some more.”

“That sounds like fun.” you agreed. “My own personal tour guide.”

“At your service.” he laughed. “Text me your address and I’ll pick you up in the morning. Does eight work? I can have Kelly’s coffee on hand if that helps.”

“Eight is fine, and I will never say no to Kelly’s coffee.” you affirmed.

“I will see you in the morning then. Coffee in hand.”

You couldn't help but smile brightly as your heart fluttered. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Spending time alone with him was something you were looking forward to. Maybe it would help you decide if you could indeed fall for him because it seemed your heart was leading you in that direction.

After hanging up, you sent him a text with your address. Then sent one to Nick letting him know how the conversation went.

You ate your salad, then went and laid out clothes for your hike in the morning. You hoped you’d be able to sleep that night, or you’d really need the coffee Chris was bringing to stay awake on the hike.

As you were getting ready for bed later that evening, your phone alerted you to new text messages. You had one from Nick and one from Chris.

Nick: Don’t overthink or get stuck in your head. Enjoy tomorrow, be in the moment.

You replied back to Nick, telling him you’d do your best and would call him tomorrow. Then opened the message from Chris.

Chris: Dodger and I are looking forward to tomorrow. Sweet Dreams. :)

He’d attached a picture of him and Dodger lounging on the couch.

You: Aww! He’s so cute! I can’t wait to meet him. Looking forward to tomorrow as well. Sleep well! <3

#chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x ofc

55 notes · View notes

canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 154

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

I was able to get the Master Post cleaned up this morning. I know there is a reblog going around with some of the links missing... I put that one up originally as a place holder so I could update my page links in chapters 101 through this one. I did NOT anticipate it would get immediately reblogged, which made me squeak in pleasant surprise. I’ll reblog the full post so everyone has the right one.

Also, thanks to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog for keeping me going and all your help beta-reading and checking my links. You three are the real heroes here!

“The quiet rooms are done,” Hannah yawned the next morning. “It’s a good thing we decided to make them available immediately, because the first one had people scheduling time before we finished the second one.”

“How many did we end up with?” I asked, pushing down my own urge to yawn. I had always prided myself on being able to resist the urge to yawn when others did, and I wasn’t letting that stop now.

The model of the Ark came up on the table emitter, and Hannah zoomed in on the highlighted areas. “Right now, we have twelve, just like you set up for the second Food Festival. But I’ll be honest, they rooms are already booked for the foreseeable future, and I don’t think that’s tenable.”

“Agreed. I’ll talk to the rest of the Council, but at this point, we need to see about setting all available spaces for quiet rooms.” I nodded and added that note to my agenda. “Moving on, food vendors being allowed in BioLab2. Any updates?”

Parvati flicked the data to everyone. “Grey isn’t thrilled with the possibility that the food will contaminate the aquatics, but is willing to allow vendors in ‘The Fairy Circle’?” She gave me a questioning look. “They said you would know what that meant.”

I just smiled and shook my head. “It’s where I go camping. Conor managed to pull off a prank that fooled even Charly and made a Faerie circle. It’s a good choice, though: ten, eleven feet across, accessible, and far enough from the water that there wouldn’t be any risk.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Credit to Conor on that one. But, Grey was very enthusiastic about the idea of setting up some picnic tables throughout the woods and letting people bring picnics.”

“I already have some vendors on board, there,” I breathed in relief. “Especially the ones who specialize in the type of foods that lend themselves well to being portable.”

Hannah’s face lit up. “Do we get to taste test some of these? I’m really getting some bento box and pasty vibes from what you just said, and I’m not sure which I’m more excited about.”

“I think I can get that to happen,” I laughed. “I wouldn’t mind trying some of the options myself, but I can at least already confirm that all bases are covered for dietary requirements. Next up, where are we on the holiday date?”

“Still working with the other departments to finalize a date where all projects can be completed, paused, or at least at a point where they don’t require direct observation. Everyone is on board, though.”

“That’s the biggest hurdle,” I confirmed. “Means we can proceed with at least putting the rest of the events together in preparation for the final date. I trust you two in handling the party aspect of it, and Charly is already working Bash on another Kink Night event at the Undine - minimal planning needed there. So, let’s figure out who is coordinating the paint-tag fight, and we can loop back to the plans for the party.”

“While I am entirely sure Charly can handle planning for both the paint tag and the other - seeing as both were her ideas - it doesn’t feel fair to leave them both entirely on her shoulders,” Hannah agreed. “It says here that you already had Conor confirm we missed Holi?

“By about six months,” I confessed. “So we’re pretty much both too late and too early.”

“I do believe the arrows would be frowned upon, in any event,” Parvati joked. “I still have her paint formulas - flavors are not listed, but there is a distinct lack of both black and yellow.”

“Those were… scotch bonnet for the black, I know that one. I think the yellow was gochujang, which would still hurt if you got it in your eyes,” I recalled.

She flicked her hands, bracelets chiming. “I will ask for a new formula for yellow, but I think we can live without black paint. The yellow was lovely, though.”

“Ask nicely, and she’ll probably give you the glitter formula colors, which I think are different flavors from the regular palette,” I suggested. “And the glitter is ultra-violet reactive, so that’ll be fun.”

Emphatic stabbing at her datapad ensued - impressive, because it wasn’t even physically there, just emitted from the band on her wrist. “Once I have those, I believe Hannah and I can coordinate that along with the party. There is no food component, it is only for one day, so the scope is far smaller than the Festival was.”

“And besides,” Hannah added with a shrug, “whip up some paints and some spongy balls to soak it up, set boundaries, invite anyone who wants to attend. Planning done.” She dusted her hands off for emphasis, but she had a point.

“I’ve got the care packages well underway, so we’re solid there. The party. What’s the plan there?”

Parvati dismissed the schematic from the table emitter and sent a different image to it. This one was practically the opposite of what I had expected: where I had anticipated Food Festival 2: Pyrotechnic Boogaloo, I was instead looking at a park that I was reasonably certain only existed in dreams.

Soft green grass that my toes wiggled to touch spanned a rolling, looping thoroughfare. Trees arched overhead like an arbor, and were either woven with lights are absolutely covered in fireflies. Between breaks in the canopy, a night sky filled with more stars than I had seen in my living memory. Here and there small braziers burned brightly with fire, resting on sturdy rugs and dotted around with cushions.

“Vati,” I whispered hoarsely. “We can’t use BioLab2 for this, can we? Will Grey allow it?”

“We can, and they are.” Her smile was the feral one that usually preceded a coup de grace of event planning. “This, however, is not BioLab2. This is the corridors of levels twelve through fourteen, leading into the lab.”

My first urge was to guess what she was planning, but my mind came up blank. I circled around my desk to stand closer to the table. “Okay, talk to me. Make it make sense.”

She nodded. “The grass is real, laid down like sod. The terraforming teams have agreed to let us use it, provided we allow them to collect data on how it holds up to so much foot traffic and include a post-event question regarding the tactile feel on bare feet. So, bare feet they shall have.” She winked when I realized she and Hannah were going to make it part of the theme. “The trees are an illusion, simple light emitters against the corridor walls, combined with the existing texture of the surface.”

When she moved the image to mimic walking further down the path, Hannah picked up. “The larger spaces are actually where the corridors are longer between quiet rooms. Rather than trying to pull off the tree illusion, we’re going to create a night sky with shooting stars, comets, the works. Like a dream.”

“I like it. It’s not what I was expecting, but I’m even more impressed for that.”

“We couldn’t compete with Charly,” Parvati confessed. “She is already going to have our base desires covered. Anything we tried to do would look like a pale imitation. So, we went the other direction: What else do we do to feel alive?”

“We dream,” I laughed. “It’s all a fairy tale dream, isn’t it?”

“That’s the goal,” Hannah confirmed. “A beautiful dream. One day and one night where you can live out your humanity however you want, without having to compromise. If someone wants to throw paint with childish abandon, then stroll and dance through a dream, and finish the night at the Undine trying something they never dared to do before, they can do that.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds decadent.”

“I was going for hedonistic, over all, but you’re on the right track,” Parvati laughed. “Hannah and I agreed that everyone on the Ark needed one perfect day. And since perfect is different for everyone…” She shrugged. “We just decided to give them all the options. The quiet rooms will be open if their perfect includes a botanical garden, or a cloud… the mess halls will be open if it means a feast, or even just decadent hors d'oeuvres they could never make an excuse to try. It’s literally all on the table.”

“Consider it signed off on.” I still couldn’t take my eyes off that grass, toes wiggling happily. “Just let me know the date when we have one, I need a pedicure to enjoy this completely.”

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

60 notes · View notes

justanotherblonde23 · 3 years

Text

An Unexpected Surprise - A Marcus Moreno Story

Author’s Note: So with some encouraging from my friends, I decided to post my writing! I know that technically we don’t know anything about Marcus Moreno, but that superhero dad has been taking up space in my mind rent free all week. I tagged people that I know wanted to read this and a few that I thought might enjoy it. Please let me know what you think! -Kat

Content Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), P in V

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog @dindjarindiaries @frannyzooey @zeldasayer @hdlynnslibrary @jollyrancher87 @bisexual-space-slut @woakiees @scribbledghost @softpedropascal @catfishingmorales

Marcus trudged into the house, it was at least 2 in the morning, and he was absolutely exhausted. He was always exhausted these days; his age was catching up to him. He may be a part of the Heroics, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t getting older. He was balancing heroism, kids, a spouse, and trying to give them some semblance of a normal life. He was ready to retire, be involved in every aspect of the kids’ lives, and see his wife in more than just the middle of the night and before leaving for work. He had given enough of his life to the service of the world; now, it was about time to provide all of himself to his family. Missy, his eldest, was already 11 and getting older every single day. Jules, the baby of the family, was about to turn 5, just about to leave the toddler years behind her. He felt as if he had missed so much of their lives; he didn’t want to miss anymore.

Most of the house lights had been turned off, signaling that most of the inhabitants were fast asleep. He hoped that at least he could get a kiss or two from the woman he loved. Maybe she would still be awake. He made his way up the stairs, checking the kids’ rooms. He planted soft kisses on their foreheads, smiling at their serene expressions. What beautiful little girls he had, he was the luckiest father in the world.

He frowned, opening the door to the master bedroom; the soft glow of artificial light bathed the room in a yellow haze. There she was, his love, sitting in the middle of the bed, clearly wide awake, wearing her glasses and frowning at the hologram in front of her. Someone was working even later than Marcus himself. He took in her form; she still hadn’t noticed him quite yet. She was wearing a silky nightie that hit her upper thigh and a matching robe loosely tied around her. His cock stirred in his pants. Even as spent as he was from the day, the view in front of him made him want to take her to bed and fuck her senseless.

“Dr. Moreno, hard at work, I see,” he teased.

Her eyes shot up, smirking at him. I’m not quite Dr. Moreno yet, Marcus. You’d have to marry me first,” she teased.

“We had a ceremony-” he started.

“And someone still hasn’t mailed the marriage certificate, even though it’s been two months. All you gotta do is bring it to the post office, baby. I’d do it myself, but somebody insisted that he’d be the one to do it.”

Marcus groaned, falling onto the bed beside his wife (that’s what she was to him, even if he didn’t mail the marriage certificate yet). He heard some shuffling and a command for her AI system to file the holograms working on for the night. He’d lived with her for four years now, and he still hadn’t gotten used to all her tech. If he was a hero in name, she was the genius behind every piece of technology in his arsenal, as well as all of the other members of the Heroics. Her superpower was her mind, that gorgeous, intricate, genius mind of hers. Her ability to retain information, learn, critically think, and create was almost impossible to fathom truly. At 33, she had twelve doctorates in various fields, including engineering, physics, nanotechnology, and art history. Her thirst for knowledge and eagerness to invent was unparalleled, even among other enhanced individuals. He would never stop singing her praises; she was a wonder.

“Marcus, baby, do you wanna shower and go to bed? It’s late.”

He sighed, starting to relax into the feeling of her fingers carding through his hair. “Baby, if you keep that up, I’m gonna fall asleep right here and now. I took a shower at HQ before I left, so I’m good.” He opened his eyes when her fingers stilled, looking up at the beautiful woman with the soft smile leaning over him.

“Do you think you can stay up for a little bit longer, honey? I have a surprise for you.”

He sat up, scooting up against the headboard, kicking off his shoes. He felt wide awake now. His wife wasn’t typically one for surprises on any old day. He wracked his mind, trying to make sure that he hadn’t missed her birthday, their dating anniversary, or any other consequential, momentous occasion.

“I didn’t forget a special day, did I? Fuck, amor. I’m so sorry if I did. I’ve been spread so damn thin since the wedding; I’ve been running around like a madman.”

She placed a tiny cream-colored box in his hands, his wife sitting right in front of him, eyes sparkling with excitement. “You didn’t miss anything, Marcus, just open the box. You’ll like it, I promise.”

He nodded, pulling at the perfect bow holding the box closed, carefully opening the lid. For a minute, he just stared at the contents of the box, his eyes wide with shock. Ever so slowly, he picked up a pair of teeny baby booties, placing them in his large palm. He took the second item out, a pregnancy test that digitally read, PREGNANT. His hands began to shake; tears began to overflow, tracking down his cheeks. He looked up, his gaze locked on the woman in front of him.

“Sweetheart, are we-? Are you-? We’re- we’re having a baby?” he managed to choke out.

There was one more item in the box, at the bottom, an ultrasound labeled Baby Moreno. He studied the picture intently, his thumb moving over the little blob on the paper. That was his baby, their baby. They were having a baby.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, “we’re having a baby!”

A giggle made him raise his eyes once again. “That’s what I said, too. I’m about ten weeks along now. You’re going to be a daddy of three, Marcus Moreno.”

He scooped up everything in his lap, dumping it on the nightstand. He quickly grabbed his wife, flipping her so that she was under him. He covered her face in kisses, whispering how beautiful she was, how she was so loved, so treasured, so cherished. How their baby was made of nothing but love, how they were precious cargo, and how he would protect both of them every single day of his life. He kissed down her jaw, down her neck, eliciting breathy moans from the woman underneath him. His kisses went lower and lower until he reached her belly, pulling her nightie up around her waist so that he could get to her bare stomach. He planted dozens of kisses all over her belly, in awe of the life growing in there.

“Hey baby, it’s your daddy,” he cooed softly. “Your mommy and I already love you, little one, and you’ll have two big sisters that I just know will love you too. I can’t wait for you to be here, little baby. I promise I’ll be here for you.”

He looked adoringly at the mother of his youngest child, grinning as if his world had been made complete, and in all honesty, it had been. This baby, this tiny little one growing inside of the woman that he loved most, filled a hole in his heart that he hadn’t even been aware of.

He bit down on his lower lip, smirking while ever so slowly pulling off her panties. He would lavish the woman he loved with every ounce of devotion, adoration, and love he had to offer. A breathless Oh please, Marcus was all he needed to motivate him to continue. He opened her legs up, giving him access to her slit, wet and wanting. He groaned, the sight making his mouth water. If he had it his way, Marcus could spend hours between her thighs. Two fingers lightly toyed with her slit, moving up and down, collecting her slick.

“Look at you, baby, so wet for me, and I’ve barely touched you. If this is what pregnancy does to you, amor, I might have to start keeping better work hours so I can spend my time between your thighs.”

He could see her hips try to follow his fingers, desperate for more than he was giving her. “Marcus, don’t tease, please,” she whined. He chuckled, easily giving in to her pleas. He couldn’t say no to her, not tonight.

He buried his head between her legs, tongue coming out to lick a broad strip all the way to the top of her slit, his nose nudging her clit. She tasted like heaven, making him moan into her core, sending pleasurable shivers up her spine. He speared his tongue into her, getting as deep as he could, fucking her pussy with his tongue while her fingers tangled themselves in his curls. He kept exploring her folds with his tongue, hitting all the spots he knew would make her see stars.

He easily pushed in two fingers, causing her to buck her hips up, matching his pace. He focused his tongue on her clit, alternating between drawing lazy circles and sucking her into his mouth. His fingers hit that sweet spot inside her with every thrust, bringing her closer and closer to her release. Before he knew it, she was cumming around his fingers, squeezing him tight and pulling him deeper. His mouth flooded with the taste that was uniquely hers, prompting him to moan. He could feel himself rock hard in his pants, leaking with his arousal.

He crawled off the bed, swiftly ridding himself of his clothes, placing his glasses safely on the nightstand. He grabbed her glasses as well, placing them next to his own. She had shrugged off her robe and nightie, languidly watching him, her eyes blown wide with desire.

“Marcus, I need you inside of me,” she begged. His large cock rested heavy against his stomach, tip red and leaking. The thought of him inside of her was almost too much. She needed him, and she needed him right now.

He settled over her, catching her lips in a deep, earth-shattering kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, letting her taste herself. Marcus was intoxicating, enthralling, and all she wanted was more. Finally, they broke apart, panting slightly.

“Dr. Moreno, my lovely wife, mother of my child, let me make love to you. Let me show you how happy you make me, sweetheart. I want to make you touch the sky,” he whispered into her ear.

She beamed at him, cradling his cheek gently. “Yes, baby, I’m all yours.” He leaned back in, catching her into another searing kiss. He worked his length up and down her slit, coating himself in her slick, bumping her clit a few times in the process. At last, he began to leisurely enter her, inch by inch. They both groaned when he bottomed out, fully seated inside of her.

“Fuck honey, you’re just so tight, so wet, so warm for me,” he whimpered, moving inside her with slow, deep strokes. He wanted to make this last, to draw out her pleasure. With every thrust, he told her how good she felt, how beautiful she looked underneath him, how her pussy was made for him, how perfect she was. He could’ve gone like that for quite some time, slowly bringing her closer and closer to her high. Only her pleas of more, faster, harder made him speed up.

He grabbed one of her legs, placing it higher on his hip, allowing him to hit deeper inside her. Her hips moved in unison with his own, meeting each thrust into her. He would never get tired of the pretty sounds she made for him when he was fucking her. Those breathy moans she let out, the babbling it all spurred him on. He could tell she was close. She always got so fucking wet and even tighter right before she came. He dropped a hand between them, rubbing hard, tight circles around her clit. Not even a half dozen thrusts later, and she was wailing in ecstasy, clamping down on him like a vice. He wasn’t far behind, spilling himself deep within her, muttering her name over and over like a prayer.

He rolled off of her, panting, taking a minute to catch his breath as he gazed at her blissed-out form. Hair a mess, chest heaving, lips swollen from his kisses to Marcus, she was stunning. He couldn’t think of a moment when she was more gorgeous than right then and there. He could look at her forever, just like this.

Eventually, he got up and grabbed a warm cloth, gently cleaning her off. Turning off the light, he climbed back into bed, pulling her body to his, cradling her close. He let his hand wander, rubbing soothing circles over her belly.

“You’re gonna look so stunning, honey, all round with our baby. I promise I’ll take such good care of you. I’ll do whatever you need.”

He could feel his wife sigh, completely relaxed in his arms. He held her close, basking in her warmth and the love between them. He let his mind wander, thinking of the future, thinking of this baby.

“I’m gonna cut back at work, move more into an advisory role in the Heroics. As your pregnancy progresses, I’ll be able to work from home and take a solid chunk of paternity leave when the baby comes. I’ve given enough of myself to the world. It’s time for me to give everything I can to my family, to you, to the girls, to this baby. I’ll go drop off the marriage certificate tomorrow before I go into HQ to talk about restructuring my job. That way, you’ll officially be Dr. Moreno, even though you’ve already been that to me for a long time.”

She answered him with a happy sigh and kisses to his hand that entwined with hers. “I’d like that, Marcus. It might be selfish, but I want you here, with us. We love you so much; it’s nice when you’re here. It makes our family complete.”

They spent a few more minutes talking about the future, drifting off into deep, dreamless sleep. The thought of tomorrow was full of bright promises, just waiting to be embraced.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x y/n #we can be heroes #pedro pascal

335 notes · View notes

box-likes-minecraft · 3 months

Text

even though i really want joel and skizz on hermitcraft like many people want, and despite all my posts about hermitcraft s10, it is important to remember that if one of them or they both don’t join, we should still be really happy for whoever does because their content is probably also very good and this is an exciting opportunity for them!

people can still hope for joel, skizz, lizzie, or anyone else of course, just don’t be mad if they don’t get on the sever!

#life series #minecraft #a special tag for box to keep track of her posts #hermitcraft #joel smallishbeans #lizzie ldshadowlady #skizzleman #hermitcraft season 10 #hermitcraft s10

251 notes · View notes

winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

intellectual guesswork.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: another ajf update that requires absolutely no context to enjoy! i love you all so much. send some extra love to your favorite writers this week :)

one quick thing - if you’re on my taglist, please consider dropping a reply or a reblog! i love to see what you all think, and it encourages me to keep going :) it’s also getting a bit long, and i want to make sure my mutuals and people who engage are seeing everything - tumblr sometimes has a hard time with a lot of mentions.

words: 1.6k warnings: none!

summary: “ignorance of the law excuses no man - from practicing it.” - addison mizner. au!may 2008

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next? edited: january 12th, 2021

You all settle into one row. Aaron’s on the end beside you, looking very sharp in a crisp black suit, his favorite Rolex, and a settled kind of confidence you’ve only seen in him a few times. It’s like he’s in his natural habitat.

Aaron’s record as a federal prosecutor speaks for itself, of course, but you’ve never seen him in action. As often as they can, the bureau’s leadership sends him in as an expert witness. This time, the case happens to be one of yours. The judge hasn’t required a sequestration for Aaron, so you get the treat of sitting together in the courtroom.

He’s scoffed and mumbled snide remarks under his breath all morning. You’re just itching to see him get up on the stand and give this joker an education.

Emily leans over, whispering in your ear. “I promise you’ve never seen anything like this before. Hotch is going to rip this clown to shreds.”

You stifle a laugh and look over at Aaron. He heard her. Leaning toward you, he murmurs, “All my JD does is collect dust. When I use it, I’d like to enjoy it.”

“Your Honor, the prosecution would like to call our expert witness, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, to the stand.”

He takes a breath and rises, buttoning his suit jacket and crossing the courtroom. His presence commands respect and everyone in the courtroom seems to shrink before him.

The prosecution’s questions go over smoothly, and the defense attorney stands with an unreasonable amount of confidence.

Emily leans over. “He thinks he can get Hotch with at least one of these questions, and he might. But just watch.”

You nod, taking everything in.

“So you’ve stated that it was your profile of the killer that led you and the police to my clients door that night.”

“Behavioral analysis was a factor in our investigation, yes.”

Without hesitation, the attorney follows up. “And was behavioral analysis also a factor in the Olympic Park bombings case in Atlanta?”

“Yes, it was.” Aaron’s eyes and tone never waver, no hint of arrogance or cheek.

“And was that suspect you identified,” the attorney asks, far too aggressively, “Richard Jewell, ever convicted of the bombings?”

The prosecution objects, and you watch Aaron. Every part of him observes the proceedings with an outwardly detached interest, but his eyes are alive - strategizing and anticipating. It’s like you can see the wheels turning as the lawyers bicker.

The judge ends the squabble. “I’ll allow it.”

Aaron, now with permission, answers simply, “No, he was not convicted.”

“Because he was innocent. Your profile led you to the wrong man.”

Oh, give me a break. It takes everything in you not to scoff and you can feel Emily’s eye roll.

“Jewell was not the perpetrator, but if you look at the real Olympic Park Bomber, Eric Rudolph, you’ll see that our profile was dead-on.”

Dead-on indeed, Aaron.

“Well, how about we look at the Baton Rouge Killer? Your unit said that he was white and living in the city. He was Black and from the suburbs.”

Aaron’s eyes narrow and you feel Spencer shift beside you. Emily shakes her head. “Don’t worry,” she whispers. “He always recovers, never in the way you’d expect.”

“How do you know?”

Emily’s face pulls into a little smile. “I’ve read the transcripts. Hotch is terribly clever.”

“You said that Dennis Rader, the B.T.K. Killer,” the attorney continues, “was divorced and impotent. He turned out to be married with two kids.”

JJ huffs, and you hear her whisper to Spencer, “Can we quit with the sermon?”

His lips turn up. “Just wait.”

Dave leans over and stares them down over Derek. Stop talking.

All of you look down at your hands like chastised children, but your gaze floats back to Aaron right away.

The prosecution objects again, this time on the grounds of preaching. The judge forces a question, and the attorney turns back on Aaron.

“Having been wrong on those cases, isn’t it possible that you were wrong about Brian Matloff?”

“No.” Your chest squeezes. He’s completely firm in his denial.

How does he do that?

“Fact is,” the attorney continues like Aaron didn’t speak at all, “behavioral analysis is really just intellectual guesswork. You probably couldn’t tell me the color of my socks with any greater accuracy than a carnival psychic.”

“Objection!”

Her outburst is unnecessary. Aaron has a plan. His eyes track to you as if to check in. Are you paying attention?

If you weren’t watching before, you’re certainly watching now. Always.

“Withdrawn.”

“Charcoal grey.” His flat assertion makes you gasp and you immediately cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the sound.

The attorney turns around. “Well, look at that,” he exposes his socks to the court, and they are, in fact, charcoal grey. “He got one right.”

Aaron’s not finished. “You match them to the color of your suit to appear taller. You also wear lifts and you’ve had the soles of your shoes replaced. One might think you’re frugal, but in fact, you’re having financial difficulties.”

You do your best to school your expression and remove your hand from your mouth. Checking down the row, you see six smirks watching the witness box.

“You wear a fake Rolex…”

And you’d know.

“...because you pawned the real one to pay your debts. My guess would be to a bookie.”

Is he smiling?

“I took this case pro bono.” There’s tension in Mr. Charcoal Grey’s voice. You can hear it behind the false confidence and it pulls a smile from you. “I am one of the most successful criminal attorneys in the state.”

Hotch continues, completely bypassing him. “Your vice is horses.” There’s definitely a little smile on his face now. “Your Blackberry’s been buzzing on the table every twenty minutes, which happens to be the average time between posts from Colonial Downs. You’re getting race results.” Your smile gets wider, and Emily grabs your hand.

“Just watch.”

“And every time you do, it affects your mood in court, and you’re not having a very good day.” There’s something that looks almost like concern on Aaron’s face, but you know it’s nothing if not facetious. He’s ripping this poor man to shreds without changing a single thing about his presentation.

I love -

Don’t finish that thought.

Why not?

Remember how he’s freshly divorced?

I know, but have you seen him?

“That’s because you pick horses the same way you practice law -”

You lean forward and Emily follows, her thumbnail between her teeth.

The final blow.

“- by always taking the long shot.”

If this was any other setting, you’re sure the entire team would be on their feet, shouting and jeering. But alas, you’re in court, so you settle for a wide smile and a suppressed laugh. Amused brown eyes meet yours from across the room and you shake your head just the tiniest bit. I can’t believe you.

His lips twitch.

“Well, you spin a very good yarn, Agent, but as usual, you’ve proven nothing.” He’s just trying to recover something, anything left of his dignity. He fails, miserably.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Aaron says, his eyebrows raised just a little, “the results from the fifth race should be coming through any minute.”

Just then, his Blackberry buzzes on the defense table. “Why don’t you tell us if your luck has changed?”

You raise your hands to your face to cool the rising heat in your cheeks.

“Your honor, this is - “

The judge takes matters into his own hands. “What do you want me to do? Either show us your Blackberry or cut him loose, counselor.”

Hotch and the defense attorney share a loaded look. It’s a battle of wills.

Aaron wins.

“Nothing further.”

+++

When you all leave the courthouse, you practically latch onto Aaron’s arm, completely floored.

“How did you do that?”

He laughs and Derek jumps up beside him, shaking his shoulders. “Come on, Hotch. That was incredible.”

“Why have a law degree if you aren’t going to use it?”

+++

He offers you a ride home later that evening and you take him up on it. You’re both still in the car, idling in front of your house.

“That really was impressive today,” you admit, your eyes on your hands.

You can feel his soft smile rather than see it. “Thanks. I know it didn’t quite go the way we wanted as far as the case itself, but there’s more to come.”

“It’s never as bad as it looks in the first couple of days.”

“Exactly.” He sighs. “Thanks again for being there today. It’s…” his lips twist as he thinks, “nice to have the team around.”

You reach out, squeezing his forearm before immediately letting him go. “Of course. We’ll always be there for you. Plus, there’s nothing better than watching you tear blowhard lawyers to shreds in a court of law.”

“I’m not sure that’s exactly how it went.”

“You’re kidding!” You laugh. “That’s just what happened. The man left without half his soul! You absolutely tore it from his body.”

The pair of you quiet, and you move to get out of the car. He stops you with a hand over yours as you unclip your seatbelt. “Really. Thanks for being there today.”

“I can’t emphasize this enough - it was my pleasure.”

Enough of a pleasure as it was, his smile in the dark of the car is the best part of your day.

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @writerxinthedark @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @garcia-reid-lovechild @cevanswhre @colbyskoalas @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

611 notes · View notes

tteenagepetulance · 3 years

Photo

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝓷𝓮𝔀𝓵𝔂 𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓼

𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝓋𝒾𝓃𝓎𝓁 𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

wonderstruck & dancing all alone (left) every night with us is like a dream (right) + a collectable lithograph to match !

𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈

she breezed past the threshold of betty’s rose garden, turned left at the hedges, and went deep, deeper, deeply.... back into the folklorian woods, where a magnificent tree reached ancient branches up towards nearly perpetual lavender skies; some called it a wonder, some called it a miracle, others called it a warning. that didn’t stop her from reaching out two fingertips & opening up the tiny hidden door, painted in swirls of teals and bright pinks, beckoning her towards a pandora’s box named freedom... and with a tumble, she promptly fell right down the rabbit hole.

she found wonderland & this time, she wasn’t getting lost in it.

welcome to fae land’s mistywood high, home of the bullfrogs! once dilapidated school buildings brought back to life by thickets and weeds, swathed in a new coat of pastel pollen paint; teeming with life through vines and ivy, wisteria and lavender and baby breath filling every crack along concrete hallways. plums of roots, shoots, and flowers blooming out of lockers as birds chitter and crickets sing, binders labeled in floral washitape: Large Wing Anatomy Vol.156, ALCHEMY OF RARE GEMSTONES, the encyclopedia of rules and ramifications of ingesting fae food. sneaking out into the mushroom fields and having your first kiss over bioluminescent fungi, all your love immersed in neon blue. a world of neverending youth, dizzy drunk with nectar juice and the splendor of puppy love, each one as intoxicating as the one before. the cafeteria is teeming with political warfare, lines drawn along cliques and conformity. the maddening spin of petals and popularity, crying tears of mascara in the bathrooms... oh honey, life is just a classroom.

how exciting it can be, to dream up new worlds & wonders as the taylor’s version remasters release, and sparse them across new chapter eps, to revel in the majesty and whimsy of our hopelessly romantic inner youth. i hand picked these songs because i think they embody the whirlwind rush of high school, exacerbated under the conditions of nearly endless youth for my fickle fairy friends.

collaboration continues as my good friend, jack antonoff, returns to my side once again to help with production, this time with his iconic indie-pop sound from bleachers alongside him. every song is remastered under his touch, and you might hear the fluttering beat of fairy wings, the twinkle of their magic, the cry of the bullfrog, the chorus of the crickets, and the endless wistfulness i feel when i think back to this journey we started on. lover, state of grace, and daylight got special attention from the both of us, as i wanted to recreate vibes and aesthetics of mistywood to the deepest of my heart’s desires, and as always, jack thoroughly delivered. also joining me again is hozier, who took complete creative liberty with his remaster, which will bring you to your knees with wonderment and hope. maren morris also joins this chapter for a feature, lending her gentle vocals to create an echoing, beautiful rendition that’ll haunt as much as it hopes. when i started this project, i knew i needed troye sivan to join me on at least one track, and he helped spin a gossamer-light tale of sparkling first infatuation, and helped elevate the track with the original demo lyrics from my days at nineteen. brendon urie rejoined my side for a heart-stopping, strings & piano only rerecord of ME!, a titular pop track from the past two years that’s been passed over by many, so i decided to present it in an incandescent, softer light. lastly, the wonderful kacey musgraves lends her voice and songwriting talent to help combine two iconic songs to create a whole new story - you belong with // betty finally brings the james/august/betty love triangle to fruition, after inez accuses august of actually having feelings for betty, and the titular night of prom that changes everything.

this album is a love letter to love itself. // these songs are open letters. // no matter what love throws at you, you have to believe in it. you have to believe in love stories & prince charmings & happily every after. that’s why i write these songs. because i think love is fearless. // fearless is walking into your freshman year of high school almost immortally at fifteen. // an endless seventeen-year-old standing on a porch, learning to apologize. lovestruck kids wandering up and down the evergreen High Line. // the purple-pink skies of the soccer field on the walk home; the dazzle of opal necklaces i couldn’t afford gleaming from a department store jewelry case. // crowds of loving, vibrant people in the bleachers, watching acorn lacrosse. // daydreaming on parchment and mused about who might ask who to the dance or how nervous i was singing the anthem at the local fairyball game. // // they are the moments you saw sparks that weren’t really there, felt stars aligning without having any proof, saw your future before it happened, and then saw it slip away without any warning. // a single thread that, for better or for worse, ties you to your fate. // wonderment. intrigue. romance. i noticed things and decided they were romantic, and so they were. // creaks in the floorboards and ultraviolet morning light. // we crave romance. we long for those rare, enchanting moments when things just fall into place. above all else, we really, really want our lives to be filled with love. // love, wonder, and whimsy they deserve // being young and needing someone so badly, you jump in head first without looking. // real love shines golden like starlight, and doesn’t fade or spontaneously combust. // opening the curtains to see the clearest, brightest daylight after the darkest night. // their secret admirer looks at them and sees an elaborate sunset of brilliant color and dimension and spirit and pricelessness. // all the angles of the kaleidoscope that is you. // i don’t think you should wait. i think you should speak now.

𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

enchanted

ivy

i know places

wonderland

daylight - whimsical world version

out of the woods (hozier remaster)

invisible string

new romantics (bleachers remaster)

ours (remaster ft. maren morris)

state of grace - twinkling fireflies version

you need to calm down

we are never ever getting back together

shake it off

blank space

stay stay stay

the way i loved you

i wish you would

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

lover - midsommar night version

𝒷𝑜𝓃𝓊𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓈

you belong with // betty (kacey musgraves remix)

ME! piano remix by kitty committee studio (ft. brendon urie)

sparks fly (original demo lyrics ft. troye sivan)

op notes: hello & welcome to mistywood! thank you so much for everybody’s interest in this!!!! in my mind, all of these “chapter eps” occur after the release of all of taylor’s versions. this was a very self indulgent project, as you can see, and i can guarantee the rest will be as well!! as you can probably tell, the first two portions of liner notes were written by yours truly, while the last paragraph is a scouring off all of taylor’s to thoroughly ~capture~ the prologues she always provides. please enjoy! i take zero criticism lmao too busy being absolutely unhinged!!!

please remember that likes are appreciated, but reblogs beat the tumblr algorithm! support content creators!

keep an eye out for next week’s creation, forever & always are the sweetest con (chapter two) - just as a sneak peek, they’re gay, they’re cowboys, they’re werewolves, and i’m thrumming with excitement over getting started!! i’m aiming at having them posted by next weekend :)

tag list: @tscreators, @networkthirteen, just ask to be added to the next one! credit: coloring (@maxiresources #1, @suunflowerx foodie, @bbyhyuck summer’98), vinyl mockup purchased

#tsedit #ts edit #taylurking #taylornation #networkthirteen #tscreators #taylor swift #taylor swift edit #taylorswiftedit #myedit #taylors version

69 notes · View notes

luke-patterson-owns-my-soul · 4 years

Text

The Interview: Part One

Title: The Interview - A Luke x Reader One Shot

Words: 3,177

Summary: Y/N gets to interview Sunset Curve when they finally go on tour near where she lives.

TW: None

Author’s notes: Ok… the interview part is kind of inspired by a glorious evening when myself and a friend got to interview our favourite band just before a gig. I was much clumsier that Y/N and made a complete fool of myself on more than one occasion, but it seemed to have worked because they loved the interview – or so they told us.

I hope you like it. I’m not 100% with it, but didn’t want to drag it out for the hell of it. This is set in the UK, so spellings may be a little different.

(credit @nikascott)

The first time you heard Now or Never, you knew there was something special about Sunset Curve. Their lyrics and the beats of their pop rock tracks made you feel amazing and you couldn’t help but dance every time you heard them.

You spent all your time online anyway, so you decided to set up a Sunset Curve fan account. You didn’t expect much to come out of it due to bein in the UK while they were based in the US. But you religiously shared photos of the guys, wrote funny articles about them after speaking to people who’d been to their shows. Shared credited photos from gigs which soon got you respect from the fans and you began to build up a following.

You managed to fit running the account single handed, fitting it in between being at university studying for your degree in media and working part time. You’re not in it for the recognition, you just want to show your appreciation for a band you love.

Your best friend, Carrie, doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand how you can spend so much time expelling energy on four guys you’re never going to meet, but she indulges you because you also run one for her band, Dirty Candi. Your friend and the rest of her group are insanely talented, and even though they’re not a genre you tend to listen to, you support them because that’s what friends do.

It’s been a year since you’d first heard Now or Never and since you set up the account. You’ve amassed over ten thousand followers, most of whom are also in the UK, when you get your first band member follow. Bobby Wilson, the rhythm guitarist likes a post you shared about him and promptly follows you. You get constant likes from him and sometimes the odd comment. Your followers go insane but you manage to keep calm, ish.

The second follow is Alex, the drummer. This time you do go a bit crazy, because he’s adorable and you can’t help be a little in love with him.

It takes less than a day after Alex’s follow before the bassist, Reggie to follow you and send your notifications into overdrive by commenting on a ton of posts. You scream into a pillow on your bed because it’s 2 a.m. and you don’t want to wake Carrie up.

The one follow you’re waiting for doesn’t come. Luke Patterson, the lead singer and your favourite member hasn’t joined his bandmates, and while you never expected it, you’re more than a little upset by the fact.

“Honey, he’s like a Rockstar. He’s got more important things to do than follow fan accounts online.” Carrie was right, but it still stung a bit.

“I know, but…”

“Y/N, sweetie. I adore you, but you need to let it go. I don’t want you working yourself up over this, please. Why don’t we have a girlie night, just the two of us? We’ll watch cheesy films, eat junk food, and sing bad karaoke. No phones.”

“I love you, do you know that?” I told her.

“How could you not?” She flicked her pastel pink hair over her shoulder with a laugh before going to prepare snacks while I got the lounge ready for an evening of lazing around.

:: ::

Halfway through The Greatest Showman, Carrie falls asleep, so after you cover her over with a blanket, you pull your phone out of the box she hid it in and scroll through social media.

|Hey, @SunsetCurveFansUK did you see this??

Included in the message is a link to the official Sunset Curve account. You click on it and there’s a note from the band. Announcing a UK tour. You begin to hyperventilate as you try and prevent yourself from screaming out loud, but it doesn’t work and you let out a loud squeak, waking Carrie up.

“What’s wrong? Y/N, are you okay?” She sounds worried, so you shove your phone at her, unable to speak. “Oh, wow. This is cool. Start saving because I know you’re gonna want to go to every show.”

“Yes, yes I will.” Getting to your feet, you do a crazy dance around the small lounge of your apartment, making Carrie laugh. You only realise at the last minute that she’s recording you. “Don’t you dare post that online.” You warn her.

“Too late, sweetie. It’s already on my story and I tagged the band.”

“I hate you. Worst friend ever, I think I’ll advertise for a new one.” You grumble, making her laugh as you settle down on the couch to catch up on everything you’ve missed online.

:: ::

When tickets go on sale, you’re disappointed they guys are only doing four dates in the UK, but you buy yourself a ticket to all of them. Sadly, they don’t offer up any VIP tickets because they’re running contests for fans to win them for each show. Their tour manager, Trevor – who also happens to Bobby’s dad – has messaged your account asking if you’d like the opportunity to interview the band as a thank you for all the work you’d put into promoting them.

“Oh my God, Y/N. You’re gonna meet the band, your favourite band.” Carrie is grinning, happy for you as you stare at the message on your phone screen in disbelief. “Are you going to reply?”

“I… er… what is going on?” You stare over at your best friend who’s grinning widely at you. “This is a joke, right? Someone’s pulling the ultimate prank on me, aren’t they?”

“Y/N, look. For over a year, you’ve been pimping out those guys like crazy. You’ve increased their fan base here, which has made them want to tour here, and now they’re offering you this amazing opportunity. Take it and run with it, You deserve it.”

At her words, you reopen the message and reply to Trevor, saying you’d be honoured to do the interview. Then you freak out.

:: ::

The night of the first show and you’re hovering outside the venue waiting for Trevor to come and meet you once the guys finish their sound check. You can faintly hear the strains of Now or Never, and you get goosebumps. Thankful you’re nowhere near where the queue to get in is growing longer and longer, you start to pace outside the door. It suddenly opens outwards, making you jump, and Trevor’s head appears before behind it.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, hi.” You hold out a hand for him to shake, surprising him and yourself with how composed your voice sounds. He shakes your hand and then motions for you to enter the venue.

“Great to meet you. The guys all love your account.”

“That’s amazing to hear.” You make conversation as you follow Trevor through a maze of narrow corridors.

“Are you ready?” He asks as you approach a closed door. You can’t help but hesitate, making him look back at you in worry. “Hey, are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, it’s all just a bit… overwhelming.”

“Look, they’re great guys, as normal as they come. There’s no need to feel nervous around them.” He smiles at you and pushes open the door, gesturing for you to enter. “Guys, this is Y/N from the UK fan account. Go easy on her, okay?” Once you’re fully inside the room, Trevor leaves and closes the door behind you.

“Hey,” Reggie speaks first as they all stand up. You shake hands and instantly feel at ease. “We all love your account, it’s very honest.” He’s clearly referring to your review of their last album where you openly said you weren’t a huge fan of a couple of the songs. It was an integrity you were determined to have on the account. You didn’t want to be seen as the type to blow smoke up their asses just because you were a fan.

“Thanks. I love running it. It keeps me busy and out of trouble, apparently.” You laugh as you pull a fold-up tripod out of your bag and set it up to record the guys for your account. “Do you mind if I film the interview?”

“Go ahead.” Alex waves his hand for you to continue. Once you’re set up, you pull out your journal with your questions written in.

“Hey, Luke. That looks like your journal.” Bobby comments, making the lead singer smile. So far, he hasn’t said much and it’s putting you on edge. Especially as he’s the only band member who hasn’t followed your account. Maybe he hates what you’ve done online. Trying to ignore the doubt, you press record on the video and start to ask the questions.

“My final two questions were submitted as part of a contest I put out to my followers. First up from Ellie is ‘if you could give the others a tattoo, what would it be and where?” As you’d hoped, the response to this question is all four of them bursting into laughter as Reggie’s face lights up.

“I pick Luke and would definitely get my face across his back.” You laugh at his enthusiasm. “Maybe if I get him drunk enough, I could at least get my name somewhere.

“Dude, there is no way I will ever have your name, any of your names, tattooed on me.” Luke grinned at them. “I’d probably get Bobby a dick, on his forehead. Just because it would be hilarious.”

You know Bobby is known as a bit of a womaniser and you’ve heard rumblings in the fandom that he’s slept with fans after shows, but you keep quiet as the guys laugh. Bobby picks a rainbow for Alex and Alex picks a cowboy hat for Reggie.

“Okay, the final question is from Sarah and her son Henry. ‘If the zombie apocalypse hit, who would be the first to die.”

“Reggie.” Three out of the four spoke in unison making the bassist pout and you laugh.

“But, we’d try our best to save him.” Alex pipes up, smiling at his friend. “We’d at least try to stick together, but if it’s a choice between me and them, I’m picking me every time.”

“That’s me finished,” you stop the recording. “Thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to sit with me. I really appreciate it.”

All four guys reassure you it’s been their pleasure and that they enjoyed the interview which pleases you as it took you almost six weeks to think of questions that they hadn’t been asked hundreds of times before.

“I’ll leave you guys to get ready for the show. I need a drink.” You stand after packing everything away and move toward the door to leave.

“Hey, Y/N.” Reggie’s voice calling your name makes you turn back to face them. “We put together a little goodie bag of merch for you as a thank you for all the work you’ve done in helping promote us here in the UK.”

“Oh, you didn’t need to do that.” You’re blown away and speechless. “I do it because I enjoy it.”

“And it keeps you out of trouble?” Bobby winks at you. Unsure how to react, you smile a little, positive it looks more like a grimace. You take the overflowing bag and clutch it in your hand.

“Hey, we need a selfie.” Alex says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You suddenly find yourself between him and Luke, Alex’s arm slung over your shoulder and Luke’s hand resting on your waist. All you can feel is the head from his hand as you look at the camera Alex is holding out in front of you. Once he’s done, you take a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of Luke before stepping away.

Another round of thank yous and you leave the room and close the door behind you. Then realise you have no idea which way to go.

“Hey, you okay?” Luke’s voice makes you jump.

“Yeah, I just can’t remember the way out.” You’re embarrassed to admit, but you have to meet up with Carrie in the queue. She’d finally agreed to come to at least one of the shows with you, but only one.

“It’s a bit of a maze, here’ I’ll show you the way.” Luke falls into step beside you, his shoulder brushing yours in the narrow space.

“Thanks, you don’t need to do that.”

“It’s no problem, I’m on a drink run for the guys anyway, and the bar’s this way.” He shrugged, his shoulder once again brushing against yours.

“Well, thanks again. And for doing the interview, I hope it wasn’t too much of a chore.”

“Nah, it was fun. I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure what it was gonna be like at first, but you had some great questions.”

Silence fell and you start to feel awkward walking through the venue with a guy you’d crushed on from afar for well over a year. Eventually, the maze of corridors opened out into an area you recognised.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later, at the show I mean.” You feel like a complete idiot.

“Yeah, it should be a great show.” You give Luke a small wave and make your way towards the door where a member of the security gets ready to let you out.

“Y/N?” Luke calls out. You turn to look at him. “Do you want a drink?”

Stunned, you kind of freeze to the spot you’re standing in. After a moment, Luke mumbles something and turns to walk away.

“That would be great.” You call out, knowing Carrie would kill you if you said no. You return to Luke’s side and follow him into the space that would soon be filled with fans. The stage was set up with their instruments and you can’t help the shiver of excitement that goes through you.

“Are you cold?” Luke asks.

“No, I just had a chill.” Before you finish speaking, he’s pulled off the flannel shirt he’s wearing and handing it to you. “Honestly, there’s no need. I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N, take the damn shirt. It’s cold in here and you’re in a tank top.” He insists with a laugh.

“God, you’re pushy.” You snap at him playfully as you take the shirt and slide it on. It’s still warm from him wearing it and you resist the urge to bury your nose in it.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Just a beer is fine.” You pull some money out of your purse, but he waves it away as he hands over a card to the bartender.

As you take a sip of cold beer, your phone chirps with Carrie’s ringtone.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” You pull your phone out as Luke asks the bar tender to take three of the bottles to the rest of the band. “Hello?”

“Where are you? The doors are opening soon.” Carrie’s voice is almost drown out by the noise around her.

“I’m just finishing up, I’ll be out soon.”

“Was Luke as dreamy as-”

“I’ll be out as soon as I can. Bye.” You cut her off, worried Luke will hear her question and shove your phone away again. “Sorry, my friend’s in the queue. I really should get out there.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” You go to put your almost full bottle of beer on the bar. “Take that with you. You can’t waste good beer.” You laugh and slide the bottle into the sleeve of Luke’s shirt to hide it from the security staff as the two of you walk over to the door. “Hey, it was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.” The two of you lock eyes for a few minutes before you remember Carrie. “I… I better go. Break a leg tonight.”

Before he can answer, you’re outside with the door slamming closed behind you. You take a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart as you walk around the building to find Carrie.

:: ::

“Where did that come from?” She asks, pointing to the shirt, as soon as you join her. You look around to make sure no one’s listening. You don’t want to be overheard.

“It’s Luke’s.” You whisper, laughing as her eyes widen in shock. Even more when you pull the bottle of beer out from the sleeve and take a long drink from it.

“When we get inside, you are telling me everything. But especially how you came out of an interview with the lead singer’s clothes on.”

Before you can answer, a cheer goes up near the front of the queue as the doors open and security begin letting the fans in.

Slowly, as tickets are checked, the queue moves forward and you’re finally at the front. The security guy recognises you and gives you a smile as he lets you and Carrie inside.

The first stop is the cloakroom so you can check in your bag and the goodie bag the guys gave you after the interview. Then Carrie drags you to the bar and starts pumping you for answers.

“How did the interview go? What took so long? Why did you come out wearing Luke’s shirt and carrying a beer?”

“Woah, slow down.” You order a couple of shots for the two of you from the bartender who served Luke earlier. He waves away your money, explaining you’ve been added to the bar tab the guys have running to your surprise and Carrie’s giggles. “The interview went really well. The guys responded so well to my questions and I took a selfie with them. Oh, shit. The photo’s on Alex’s phone.”

“Oh, really?” Carrie raises an eyebrow at you.

“Do you want me to tell you or not?” You move away from the bar so no one can overhear you. When you’re certain you have some privacy, you fill her in on what happened after the interview ended.

“Holy shit, Y/N/ I think you’re in with a chance there.”

“Carrie, no. He’s a bonafide Rockstar, who lives like thousands of miles away. I’m a student from London. Don’t get carried away. He was just being friendly.”

“Oh, sure. Because all rockstars offer their shirts to fans and buy them a beer.” She looks at you, a weird look in her eye as she orders another round of drinks. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Trevor the tour manager walking toward you.

“Hey, Y/N. I was asked to give you this.” He hands you a slip of paper before melting away through the crowd toward the stage.

“What is it?” Carrie askes as you unfold it. Written in the hardest writing you’ve ever had to decipher is,

Meet me backstage after the show? Luke.

You don’t know what to think, but Carrie crows like a damn rooster, attracting attention from other fans around you.

“Just being friendly, huh?” She hip bumps you, “I’m coming with you to the other shows, I need to see this unfold with my very own eyes.

Read Part Two here

#jatp #jatp fic #luke patterson #Luke x Reader #one shot #fanfiction #orginal character #bobby #reggie #ales #carrie #Mich writes fic

132 notes · View notes

winterhawkwonderland · 3 years

Text

2020 Exchange Round up!

It’s here!!! An easy to find complete list of works from our 2020 Winterhawk Wonderland Exchange event. It is listed by title of work and author or artist, and includes rating, summary, and word count (if applicable). Our event excluded any of the AO3 Big Four warnings, but please do check tags and warnings on each work before diving in, just in case you find something there that squicks or triggers you!

Once again, thank you all so much for participating and making this a great event! Love the Winterhawk fandom!

If you do not see your work listed, please contact the Mods and we will update the post - all works were pulled from the AO3 Collection, but it’s possible we overlooked something or made a mistake! Additionally - Tumblr (in true Tumblr fashion) would not let us tag some creators - their names are on the list but the hyperlink doesn’t work. We apologize for the technical difficulty, but have no way of fixing broken Tumblr links. Please know that no offense was intended.

The 300 Club by @fosterthefuture for @gwhell. Rated T, 10,109 words “Me here?” Bucky asks, a little hysterically. “What do you expect me to do, be the one to haul your frozen body in from the snow bank you inevitably fall into and die in?”Clint chuckles, as though what Bucky’s asked is completely illogical, which it decidedly is not. “Nah, you can suit up if you want to come along to make sure I stay on track, but I’ll make it back just fine. I really just need you to be here to make sure the door stays open, help me get my boots off and into those blankets when I get back.”“Clint,” Bucky asks, eyes now closed. “Please tell me you wouldn’t do this if you were completely alone.”The silence that emanates from the sauna is telling.“Well,” Clint finally says, “I’m trying to not get into the habit of lying to you, Barnes.”

40k misunderstandings by @verdantbogmoth for @flawsinthevoodoo. Not Rated, 3,280 words. “Are they real?” Bucky gasps. “Who keeps bags of real rose petals just lying on hand?”“Tony, for special random events and for us to steal to have fun with,” Clint supplies helpfully. “Where do they go?”“Everywhere,” Bucky decides. “The couch, the table, the fucking tv stand.” Clint pops the bag and they spend several minutes turning Bucky’s living area into a very perfumed, petal draped nightmare. “Oh, my god.” Bucky says gleefully. “It looks like a porno,” Clint claps. “A serial killer porno!” Bucky amends. “This is fantastic. Why aren’t rose petals everywhere, always. Why don’t more people just throw them around for any old event?”

[ART] Christmas fluff by @elynehil for @chekov-in-a-dress. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift :)

[ART] Cooking By The Book by @not-the-blue for @thegrowingwordsmith. Rated G. Clint attempts a holiday recipe from Bucky's childhood. He... might need a second attempt.

[art] i (heart) hawkeye by @gwhells for @lantaniel. Rated G. Art for lantaniel for the Winterhawk wonderland gift exchange!

[ART] i still feel this way when light catches your face by @quicksillver for @sevdrag. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift! :)

An Affinity for Elf Culture by @bella-dahlia for @trekchik. Rated T. 8,501 words. When Bucky Barnes was told he would be doing press and community outreach as part of his prosthetic program, no one mentioned to him it would involve dressing up like an Elf from the North Pole.The hella cute blonde elf in head to toe purple hadn't been brought up either.Hiding in his hoodie wasn't going to be an option, was it?

All I Want for the Holidays Is You by @merelypassingtime for @flowerparrish. Rated G. 7,205 words. Clint obligingly took the last name in the hat. Unfolding it he read the name, Bucky. Crap. What was he supposed to do with that? When Clint draws Bucky’s name for the Avengers holiday gift exchange, he struggles to find the perfect gift.

as long as it’s with you by @theproblemwithstardust for @theonlyceeceej. Rated T. 2,651 words. Clint didn’t know when the thing between him and Bucky became an actual thing. At some point the banter had evolved from a fun and engaging way to pass the time into a weirdly competitive game of flirting chicken.

A bad day turned good by @gabrielsammysangel for @misterknife. Rated G. 1,115 words. Clint Barton was having a bad day, one kiss to take it all away. Aka how a full bad day can be wipped away when you have a good boyfriend.

Bandages and Soot by @fanbinbun for @hawkguyandthewinterdude. Rated T. 2,358 words. “Oh, you’re new. Hi! I’m Clint. I come here often.” “I have been warned.” Bucky said with amusement curling his lips. “Got a name, or should I just give in and start calling you ‘hot nurse’?”

Because of Coffee and a Chocolate Doughnut. by @jazzrose343 for @loonyloopylisa. Rated M. 5,257 words. Bucky is an Actor. Clint is stunt actor and coordinator. Shenanigans Happen

Better Than Fine by @vexbatch for @theproblemwithstardust. Rated T. 4,439 words. Clint promised Kate he'd bring a plus one to her engagement party, but now he needs to find one. Maybe Bucky will do him a favor? Maybe Clint's crush on Bucky won't be a problem for said favor?

[ART] The Cat doesn't agree by @misterknife for @Inktastic1711. Rated G. 5 words. Clint was determined to get the best family photo this year. Except now he's pretty sure that fighting alien hoards or doombot armies might actually be easier than wrangling a cat into a sweater.Bucky says that Alpine's sorry.Clint thinks she might kill him in his sleep.

cause it's just what you must do by @sevdrag for yamyamyam. Rated T. 3,399 words. Clint ducks away at Tony's holiday party for a breather. Little does he know this closet is occupied.

Christmas With the Barnes's by @jstabe for @claraxbarton. Rated T. 3,163 words. He knows Clint is nervous. If he’s honest, he is a little too. He and Clint have been dating just shy of two years but with their hectic work schedules, it’s rare for them to have full days off together so Clint isn’t used to large family gatherings.

The Common Room by @trekchik for @nana-evans. Rated E. 1094 words. No one knows they're together. Right?

Communication is key by @averyrogers83writes for @harishe-art. Rated G. 3,434 words. Bucky screws up and pisses Clint off possibly ruining any chance of having more than a working relationship with the archer.

[ART] Cookies For Two by madnerding for @hopelessly-me. Rated G. 29 words. My prompt was for cookie decorating and I hope I delivered. Enjoy!

Coping Mechanisms by @mariana-oconnor for @feathers-and-cigarettes. Rated E. 4,321 words. After the events of Freefall, Clint Barton is exhausted, bruised and on everyone's Most Wanted list. Luckily, or unluckily, it's Bucky Barnes who ends up finding him.

Cover Me by @downwarddnaspiral for @feedmecookiesnow. Rated M. 8,618 words. Clint and Bucky end up off the grid and in close quarters. Featuring the world’s crappiest safehouse, a semi-retired spy, and an assassin with strong opinions about the cold.

Delicate, hand wash only by @mollynoble for @pherryt. Rated E. 6,074 words. “Hey, Buck, what do you need?” Clint moved closer, he wanted to reach out but he resisted the urge, that could be a bad idea right now. “What can I do to help?” He pitched his voice low and soothing. There was a pause, then Bucky's eyes focused on him. “Right now all I want is a bath and then sleep.”

Draw Me Like One of Your Frenchmen by @alchemistdoctor for @thwip. Rated M. 1,410 words. This is written for andthwip in the winterhawk wonderland exchange, who requested sexting during inappropriate times, date night ends in trying a new kink, or getting off in the field. I managed the first two!

Fate or Natasha by bear_shark for @kidd-you-not. Rated G. 1,663 words. How it ended: Bucky watched the rise and fall of Clint’s chest while he slept. Every few minutes, he would snuffle and rub his face against Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s phone pinged, and he carefully checked his texts. Natasha: How did your date with Clint go? Bucky sat up quickly, jostling Clint. “What the hell?”

The Fight Before Christmas by @theonlyceeceej for @jstabe. Rated E. 4,040 words. Now, don’t let it be said that Bucky couldn’t take a joke. He could. Really. But sometimes it was just too much. Clint was just too much. Clint is the epitome of a schoolboy with a crush; Pulling pigtails, calling names, the lot! Ok, maybe it was more than a crush, judging by the many thoughts about being thrown around by the Winter Soldier. He just needed to get his attention... But will it work?

For This by @endof-theline for @elynehil. Rated G. 5,652 words. Bucky and Clint are moving in together and it's not just the boys we have to worry about, because Lucky and Alpine are moving too!

Getaway Car by @feedmecookiesnow for @genderfluid-and-confuzled. Rated G. 4,405 words. The guy regains his balance and starts running again. He slips one more time, slides a little more, and then suddenly he’s right next to the car, fumbling at the handle of the passenger side door. A blast of cold wind comes as he yanks it open, practically falling into the seat in a swirl of snowflakes. “Go, go!” he yells, and Clint goes. He doesn’t even question it, just slams the car into drive and shoots out into the street, skidding a little on the ice.

Guardian Angel by @chrissihr for @spacetimeconundrum. Rated T. 3,469 words. Clint attracts strays like moths to flame. All he wanted to do was bring home a puppy he found in a box marked ‘free’ in crayon. It was just sitting out in the rain under the awning in front of his neighborhood pizza place.He couldn't just leave it there ... right?

Hit Me With Your Best Shots by @thegrowingwordsmith for @fosterthefuture. Rated G. 2,185 words. As a barista, Bucky has witnessed a lot of crazy customers and their creations. He has made drinks with so much syrup that there was barely room for coffee, and gotten orders with so many modifications that it had to print on multiple stickers. None, however, even came close to the strangeness of Too Much Caffeine guy.

[ART] How do you like them apples? by @lantaniel for @vexbatch. Rated G. Because Clint is incapable of 1.doing a calm activity, and 2.not climbing a tree.

Howl by @drgrlfriend for @mariana-oconnor. Rated T. 9,729 words. Excerpt: Bucky gets that uncomfortable feeling again, like he missed something. Lost time maybe. It’s been happening less and less, but it still happens. “I don’t know what you mean.” The man runs a broad hand up the back of his neck, mouth pulling to the side as he seems to consider his words. “Skin feels too tight sometimes? Feels like you gotta keep moving, but no place feels right? Got an ache deep in your bones that you just can’t seem to get rid of?” “What —” Bucky swallows, the rest of the sentence jagged in his throat. He knows there are Avengers who are witches, or telepaths, or whatever, but he’d never heard of Hawkeye being one of them. “How are you — are you in my head? —”

[ART] I got you by @vexedbeverage for @gabrielsammysangel. Rated T. 100 words. I decided I wanted to do some art but then my writing brain told me I couldn't stop there. I've never done a drabble before so I thought I'd give it a try!

I Love How Your Soul is A Mix of Chaos and Art by @flawsinthevoodoo for @merelypassingtime. Rated T. 5,745 words. This is basically a 5+1 where Clint "Borrows" a great many hoodies as a coping mechanism and Bucky decides Clint needs to be a part of his life, not just his laundry.

if these wings could fly by @flowerparrish for @hawksonfire. Rated M. 4,018 words. He waits a few moments, pretty sure he’s going to have to start knocking again, when the door swings open. There’s Bucky, shirtless, disheveled, wings spread out behind him like some kind of tragic painting of an angel. Not that Clint knows much about art, but with the dark colors and dim lights he thinks this could totally have been something one of those old dudes dreamed up.

It Must be Winter in my Heart by @harishe-art for @jazzrose343. Rated G. 3,055 words. It's the holiday season and for some reason Clint and Bucky keep getting mistaken as a couple. They hadn't even planned to meet up most of them time. Why does this keep happening to them?

It was Only a Winter's Tale by @harishe-art for @averyrogers83. Rated G. 1,628 words. Clint and Bucky prepare to celebrate their first winter holiday together when Bucky has a realization during an argument.

it was peace by @loonyloopylisa for @drgrlfriend. Rated G. 1,932 words. “Um, hi, I’m Bucky?” he said, hating himself for the way it came out like a question. “Hi Bucky,” the man answered, a wide smile on his tan face, “I’m Clint. What can I do for you?” Inwardly thankful for this therapist for making him practice he said, “I was wondering if you had any volunteer opportunities?” Clint gave him a considering look, bright blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Bucky was sure he was assessing him and finding him lacking, taking in the missing arm and coming up with a reason Bucky wouldn’t fit in. He was bracing himself for the rejection when Clint said, “sure.”

A Kind of Magic by @sian1359 for bear_shark. Rated G. 7.034 words. Bucky has some help adapting from being Hydra's Winter Soldier to becoming the Avenger's Winter Soldier

Lilac you a lot by @hawkguyandthewinterdude for @harishe-art. Rated T. 6,490 words. It starts with one purple sock and just escalates from there.

Lost Time by @lissadiane for @vexedbeverage. Rated T. 10,029 words. Clint’s always known the universe doesn’t like him all that much. But all he knows now, as his heart beats out a rhythm and there isn’t a heartbeat to harmonize with it, is that he’s found his soulmate -- and he’s been dead for over 70 years. It’s ironic. It burns. It shouldn’t surprise him. Barney won’t be surprised. Barney’s been saying the universe has it out for them for Clint’s whole life. And this is just further proof. In which soulmates exist but Clint's parents are proof that sometimes, they go terribly wrong.

The Maybe To Your Story by @kangofu-cb for @mollynoble. Rated E. 5,162 words. Bucky walked out of the shared bathroom whistling under his breath, happily ignoring Steve’s groan as he whipped off the towel around his waist to half-assedly swipe at the water droplets on his shoulders. “Oh, you’re still here?” he asked blithely, toweling at his hair. “Might want to shake a leg before you get an eyeful of something you want to see even less than my dick.” “I’m going, I’m going,” Steve grumbled. “Fuck. Can’t believe I’m getting sexiled for the third time this week. For Barton.” Or, instead of talking about their feelings, Clint and Bucky decide to fuck about it.

my hands no longer an afterthought by @shatteredhourglass for @quicksillver. Rated T. 2,922 words. Bucky's moving on with his life. Shaking off the Soldier. There's still that one nagging, blond idiot-shaped regret, though.

Nowhere to go but with you by Lacerta for @sian1359. Rated G. 5,905 words. Clint fights the urge to cross his arms, keeping them hanging loosely by his sides instead, and forces himself to relax his shoulders. It’s just a small precaution in case he needs to react fast but, god, he hopes it doesn’t come to that. He doubts any precaution that doesn’t include a loaded weapon would help him last more than a minute. He watches the man sitting across the kitchen table from him, curled in on himself under Clint’s warmest blanket with his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, and tries to wrap his head around the very unusual, very alarming situation he has gotten himself into.

On The Fifth Day of Christmas, The Winter Soldier Stole For Me..... by @ch3ls3ara3 for @alchemistdoctor. Rated T. 8,178 words. “Are these pears? Why the hell is there a pear tree in my apartment?” he asked Lucky who was now sitting patiently, staring up at the bird with his tongue hanging out and tail wagging. “What is happening?” Clint Barton knew he was a disaster, it never really shocked him anymore when he ended up in strange situations. These twelve days leading up to Christmas, though? Those days he would have never seen coming.

the one where Clint hates christmas horror by @thwip for @bella-dahlia. Rated M. 2,898 words. “We take turns, Clint. This week is Nat’s turn, next week is yours,” Tony quips, sipping from his own mug. “We can watch The Holiday, for the third year in a row, then.” Clint opens his mouth and starts to protest Tony’s eye roll because The Holiday is a cinematic masterpiece and Kate Winslet may give her best performance yet, Tony! Not to mention Cameron Diaz! Singing Mr Brightside! It’s a great film, when the front door opens and Bucky and Steve walk in, laughing about something. Clint's mouth snaps shut and his eyes immediately flicking towards Bucky, admiring the way the navy fabric of his henley clings to the thick biceps that are almost bursting out of it.

Operation Snowbound by RedTeamShark for @heartonfirewrites. Rated G. 4,048 words. The mission is a simple job: tag a convoy as it drives through the pass and then skedaddle back down the mountain. Easy enough that Clint could do it in his sleep. And he doesn’t even have to pull the trigger, that’s what Bucky’s there for. Until an unexpected weather event leaves the two of them stranded on a mountainside in a blizzard, battling the cold, Clint’s taste in coffee, and Bucky’s idea of idle conversation.

Outside the World by @pherryt for @verdantbogmoth. Rated G. 4,767 words. Bucky doesn't really remember who he is, and what little he does remember is impossible. All his therapists have said so. There's no way he can be who he thinks he is - a character from a children's book.And yet, the world around him just doesn't *feel* right - its too dark, too colorless and doesn't match the vibrancy of his dreams. Dreams he tries to capture both on paper and on his walls.Bucky doesn't have any answers he can count on, just the hat he's kept all these years, but that guy that started following him - as vibrant and eye-catching as the pieces of Bucky's dreams -Well, he just might.

The Prince's "Delivery Boy" by allyouneedissleep for @endof-theline. Rated T. 4,917 words. He wouldn’t have any issues at all with the secrecy rules stating that only people in confirmed legal marriages could tell their significant other about their job if he was planning to marry anyone except the Prince who was first in line to take over as King of Brooklyn after his marriage went through. Clint was about to effectively become Queen of Brooklyn and he couldn’t even tell his fiance what he did for a living. As far as Bucky knew, he was a delivery boy. A DELIVERY BOY.

[ART] Snow Way Out! by @inktastic1711 for @fanbinbun. Rated G. 24 words. Prompt: While on a mission, Clint and Bucky end up on an impromptu sledding trip down the snowy hill/mountain to escape the bad guys. Bonus points if the sled isn't actually a sled.

Snowed In by @chekov-in-a-dress for @ch3ls3ara3. Rated T. 4,332 words. Secret Santa Story for CarafeOfColdBrew! Dad Bucky and his daughter Nat are on their way to Bentonsport where Bucky is supposed to check out a possible site to build a resort when they get overwhelmed by a snowstorm. How lucky that they get pointed to a bed and breakfast owned by a certain handsome dork.

So much to say (I just can't speak) by @hopelessly-me for Allyouneedissleep. Rated T. 3,260 words. Bucky has never considered himself the jealous type. But when Steve and Clint start hanging out more and more, Bucky starts pulling back to protect his own feelings.

Some Luck by @claraxbarton for @not-the-blue. Rated T. 3,558 words. “Cowboys?” he asked. Judith smiled at him. “I love to give my darlings what they want.”

a storm is comin' in by @heartonfirewrites for @chrissihr. Rated T. 9,686 words. Sasquatches don’t exist. Clint is sure of it. So what’s that fuckin' bigass yeti doing outside Tony’s upstate cabin in the middle of a nor’easter, looming ominously and ruining Clint’s plans for a quiet Christmas alone with Lucky?

Time and Time Again by @pherryt for @shatteredhourglass. Rated E. 6,497 words. The past has a way of catching up to people and Clint knows that better than most. Despite that ingrained life lesson, he still doesn't expect it when a part of Steve's past turns out to also be part of Clint’s. He's... not sure where to go from here.

too cold to feel (but i know you're there) by @hawksonfire for @trashcanakin. Rated T. 1,983 words. Clint’s been cold his whole life. He doesn’t mind, really, has learned to always keep a pair of gloves on him, even in the summer. He gets weird looks for it, but he stopped caring what people thought of him a long time ago. His apartment has always got spare blankets laying around, and his dresser is jam packed with thick pairs of socks.

[ART] A Walk in the Woods by @spacetimeconundrum for @downwarddnaspiral. Rated T. One finds the strangest things in the woods...

What's a Guy Like You Doing in a Place Like This by @sevdrag for @kangofu-cb. Rated T. 8,091 words. A 5+1 fic for Winterhawk Wonderland: Five Times It Wasn't A Date, and One Time It Actually Was.

Word Search by yamyamyam for RedTeamShark. Rated T. 3,858 words. Bucky doesn't understand why he should have to see a doctor about a measly little bullet wound. Steve doesn't understand why that would be optional, Jesus Christ, Buck, we can have nice things now. Clint doesn't understand why he can't visit Bucky in the super-secure lockdown ward. The NYFD doesn't understand why Clint can't get out of a baby swing without the jaws of life. Natasha doesn't understand why she puts up with any of these idiots.

[ART] You Come Here Often? by @trashcanakin for Madnerding. Rated G. winterHawk in the vents.

You had me at Loathing by @kidd-you-not for Lacerta. Rated T. 5,715 words. "What?" he asks absolutely no one, completely baffled. Movement to his left catches his eye and he twists around, still hanging from the balcony railing by his legs, and gapes. There, right there on the adjourning apartment building, is a man. A man clad all in black, with chestnut brown hair falling to his chin and a mask covering the lower part of his face. Holding a sniper rifle in his right hand and giving Clint a mocking little salute with the left. "Motherfucker!" Clint screams. Hawkeye and the Winter Soldier work for competing companies. Unfortunately for everyone involved, they cross paths on more jobs than either of their handlers can endure.

Honorable Mention:

The Opposite of Love by @teeelsie-posts for @loonyloopylisa. Rated E. 10,000 words. You know that social media post where the guy says he’s a felon and he’ll come terrorize your family for Thanksgiving in exchange for a free meal? Yeah, that’s what this is. Except that Clint is Clint, and Bucky is Bucky, and they’re both Avengers, but Clint’s family is a bunch of assholes and Bucky decides to help him out with that. Oh, and it’s Christmas, not Thanksgiving. Mod Note: This fic was begun for last year’s exchange then discarded for another idea, but Teeelsie finished it unexpectedly and asked permission to include it in this year’s collection and we were happy to allow that. Please enjoy!

#winterhawk #winterhawk wonderland exchange 2020 #event round up #masterpost #master post #NOW WITH TAGS

64 notes · View notes

lordoffiction · 4 years

Text

Two Souls, One Fate: chapter one.

☞: After spending two days trying to post this, here it is! Hooray!

I really hope you all enjoy this whilst I finish writing the fifth chapter for T.L, because god knows I spent too much time on this. I haven’t wrote in a few months, so please excuse any mistakes I made in this and if it’s shitty! It’ll get better, promise.

Please give me feedback and let me know if you would like to get tagged in this series!

Anyways, enjoy!

WORD COUNT: 5,069

WARNINGS: swearing, mild violence, mentions of suicide.

gif isn’t mine, all credits to the owner.

—————————

Your fingers combed through your hair, bundling it up into an untidy ponytail, pulling the long strands to make sure it was secure and tight enough. You had had long hair for around ten years, it's your pride and joy.

Growing up in an all-male family had made you that way, you grew up a tomboy with your five older brothers and always saw yourself as one of them.

But then that magical moment came when you were ripped from your carefree childhood and brutally slammed into the harsh society and expectations of women, you had begun to hate the idea of acting like a boy. People told you to act more like a “lady”. So you had put away the mud pies, the sword fights, and the wrestling. You began doing make-up, having long hair, and wearing pretty clothes.

But throughout everything, no matter what anyone said, society and snotty people couldn’t take this one thing from you.

Archery.

Your father had taught you from a young age, a sport that made you better even on your worst days. Something that not even the most powerful being in existence could take from you. The thrill of letting go of that arrow, watching it glide through the air before striking its target. It was something you would never get bored of.

You dressed in your normal sportswear, sliding on protective gloves made specially to stop your hands from getting sores as you held the arrow.

Where you lived was a small village, everybody knew everybody. News and gossip spread like wildfire here, so you only imagine that half the village had already heard about your date later tonight.

Reaching over to your bow and your arrow hanging pot, slinging it over your shoulder, you left your small apartment and headed towards the forest. You had a set up shooting range for archery at the corner of it, your dad would make targets for you and set you challenges every day when you were younger. Like swinging targets or shooting whilst you're running.

“G’ morning, dear. Going out to the woods again?”

Your eyes turned to see your elderly neighbour smiling at you, her eyes crinkled at the corners. Her walking stick barely keeping her up properly and her woven hat kept the sunlight out of her eyes.

“Mrs. Genkins,” You smiled at her small frame. Such a fragile woman. “Don’t I spend all my time in those damn woods?”

“Just you be careful, you wouldn’t want to hurt yourself before your date tonight.” Mrs. Genkins waved her walking stick at you slightly in a teasing manner, barely putting it back in time before she loses her balance.

The comment made your eyes roll internally. Of course, people already knew about your date tonight.

“I see news hasn’t lost its way around this place.” Your hand automatically reaching out to her in case she falls, which she brushed away with her wrinkled hands. Though she may be pushing ninety, she sure is one tough little lady when it comes to receiving any help.

“You know people around here, other people's lives are their entertainment. Just make sure this one can handle you, you can’t be single forever, you know?” Mrs. Genkins squinted her eyes at you teasing you from the last man you had dated that went sour once he had realized how unfeminine you are.

“Is he really worth my time is he can’t handle a tough girl like me?” You teased back, giving her a small wink as she cackled at your comment.

“Well, I better be going if I want to miss the morning rush at the morning market. You be safe, dear. And be careful.”

You nodded at her, smiling as you waved her down the road and out of sight. You let your head fall back slightly, closing your eyes with an exasperating sigh. You really need to move somewhere where there isn’t anyone you know or where no-one knows you.

You set off towards the woods, it wasn’t a far walk, only about five minutes from your apartment complex.

You dug your earphones out from your pocket, plugging them into your phone, and playing your latest playlist you had made for when you go do your archery. You began stretching your arms on the way, hooking one arm around the other, and pulling on it to receive a satisfying 'pop'.

Just as you entered the woods, you began to hear faint drumming noises. You brushed it off, perhaps it was something for the song you were listening to, though you never remembered this when you last listened to it yesterday.

Your brows knotted together in confusion as the drumming began to get louder and louder as you went deeper into the forest. The noise became so loud that you ripped your earphones out of your ears, your eyes widening. It wasn’t coming from the music.

It was coming from around you.

As soon as you realised, a small chanting sound echoed with the drumming, syncing with the beat of it.

A cult? You thought.

Your E/C hues quickly began searching around you to see who was doing it but found no one else in the woods with you.

Your fight or flight reflex suddenly kicked in, making you break out into a full-blown sprint into the woods, you tried to fumble with your bow, reaching for one of your arrows in it’s hanging pot behind your back, panting as your fingertips brushed the tip of it.

“C’mon!” You yelled at yourself in frustration.

Suddenly, you began to fall sideways, your ankle giving way beneath you in a twisted mess. The world began to spiral around you as you rolled into the ditch near the pathway you were once walking on.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You felt yourself being thrashed around for a few seconds downhill before finally landing on the flat ground again. You gasped for air, the collision causing you to land onto your back, knocking all the air out of your lungs.

You laid there for a minute, breathing in deeply. Did you really just fucking fall?

Rolling onto your side and going onto your hands and knees once you regained your breath, you looked up at the large hill you just fell from, realising the only way you can get back to the track is if you climb back up again.

“Shit.” You grumbled under your breath, using the nearest tree to pull yourself up to your feet again. Your arrows were scattered around you from the fall, leaning down to pick them up one by one and placing them back in your hanging pot.

As you reached for the last one, but your eyes were caught on a small box under the root of a large tree, surely the largest tree you had seen in these woods before and in your entire life.

It must have been thousands of years old, you could wrap yourself around it at least six or seven times.

“Oh, my...” You gawked the tree up and down, taking it all in before looking back to the box that was intertwined with its roots.

“What’s this?” You wondered aloud, going onto your knees and tracing your fingers on the corners of the box that you could touch. It was covered in dirt and moss but your curiosity ate you alive, reaching for one of your arrows, you began to jab at the root to loosen it with the end of your arrow.

After a few moments of trying, you finally loosened the root enough to yank the box out from it with a hard tug, causing you to fall backward.

You brushed it with your fingers but the dirt and grime were so thickly coated on it for god knows how long.

“Curious cat, aren’t you?” You spoke to yourself, standing up again and forgetting completely about your training. “This could be a murder weapon or something and you want to take it home with you.” You tusked, tucking the box into your hanging pot.

The journey back home was filled with many emotions, the main one being self-pity for yourself on how you fell down the hill. The second was about the drums that caused you to fall.

—————————

You ringed your hair out as you stepped out of the shower, letting it fall down your back, the water droplets dripping down your skin, and pooling around your feet.

You dried yourself off as you danced to the music playing from your speaker in your small apartment, grabbing the clothes you planned to wear to your date tonight.

What a weird day, huh. You thought back to the drumming and chanting.

You had chosen a pair of black jeans and a cute black top you had recently bought as a treat, the neckline dripping to show your cleavage. The outfit suited your figure beautifully, staring at yourself in the mirror as you tugged on your black, leather heeled Chelsea boots.

You’d only done concealer and mascara for your make-up. Nothing too fancy for a little date.

“Not bad, Y/N. Not bad at all.” You smiled at yourself. You had curled your long hair, tucking one side behind your ear.

You looked behind you, seeing the small box you discovered sitting on your kitchen counter. You glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing you still had some time to kill before your date got here.

After a few minutes of running around your apartment and gathering things like a toothbrush, washing up liquid, a small paintbrush, and paper towels; you set up your little workspace on the counter to clean the box.

You dipped the toothbrush in the soapy water, gently scrubbing the dirt from the box, using the paintbrush to brush any specks of dirt off it.

Some time had passed, and you could finally see the beauty beneath the dirt.

“What are these?” You mumbled to yourself, looking at the strange engraved marks on the box. The box looked silver, but you couldn’t be sure.

Carefully prying the box open with your fingertips, you revealed inside a stranger kind of necklace.

Your head tilted to the side and your brows furrowed together as the small spiral pendant looked almost familiar. Like you had owned one before but forgot about it. A very distant memory.

It was silver, in the shape of an upside-down hammer. The leather cord that was with it had deteriorated, falling apart as soon as you picked up the pendant.

You cleaned off the pendant in the soapy water, patting it dry with a paper towel. Quickly going back to your room and grabbing one of your necklaces, you took the chain from it. Going back to the kitchen where you carefully hooped the pendant onto the silver chain.

Should I...

You pondered for a moment, staring at the pendant in your hand. You raised the chain around your neck, clasping it together at the hooks as it hung on your chest. You stilled for a moment, almost expecting something to happen when you put it on.

“Idiot,” You laughed at yourself, going over to where a mirror was to see how it looked on. But as soon as you took a step forwards, it felt like you began falling. You could hear the chants again from the woods, the drums pounding around you, almost deafeningly loud. Your eyes widened in terror as you couldn’t move your body as you fell back, the floor of your apartment swallowing you in a rabbit hole.

Lights surrounded you in all different colors, seeing silhouettes in the corner of your eye. Were they the ones chanting?

Oh god, oh fuck, oh shit.

Your breathing became labored, struggling to get air as you tried desperately to move your limbs.

The drumming and chanting only growing louder the deeper you fell into this rabbit hole.

Silence.

Suddenly the chanting and drums stopped, looking up to see the disfigured sky. You attempted to move your limbs again, gasping when you found you could move.

You kicked your way up to the sky, gasping for air once you broke through.

The sound of lapping waves and squalling seagulls invaded your ears, a sudden chill going over your body.

You looked around you with wide eyes, astonished by your surroundings. You were in the fucking ocean.

“What the fuck?!” You shrieked out, panic set over you as you tried to stay afloat, legs kicking under the water furiously.

“You’re dreaming. You must have gotten a concussion,” you repeated to yourself. “Yeah, yeah. You’re concussed.”

“You there!”

You snapped your head to see a wooden boat sailing towards you, numerous men aboard it as they all peered down at you. One man, in particular, stood at the arch of the boat, big and with a long braided bear. He was bald, tattoos around his head in strange patterns.

“Did you get lost, woman?” He belly laughed, the other men joining in. You were too much in shock to try and even say anything back. “Frode, throw the poor woman a rope.”

One of the men, skinner than the one barking orders, threw a thick rope towards you, splashing into the water in front of you, the water spraying on your face.

You grabbed the rope, unsure whether or not being on a boat with strangers or being in the ocean alone was better. The men heaved you up to the boat, letting your body hit the deck of it like a wet fish.

You panted slightly, trying to calm your thundering heart before it jumped out your throat.

You weren’t facing the men, your eyes locked onto your hands that dug into the wooden deck, trying to desperately grasp onto some kind of reality.

“Holy fuck.” You gasped out.

“Someone get her something to cover herself with!” The bald, bearded man ordered. Someone came over and wrapped some kind of cloak on you, you quickly tied it on your neck, trying to get warm.

“What kind of clothing is she wearing?” Another man spoke.

“A whore, perhaps?” Another replied.

“Whore!?” You repeated, turning to look at the men for the first time. “Who do you think you're calling a whore?”

The expressions on the men’s faces changed as soon as you looked up at them. The sudden change in mood made you want to cower away. Are these cosplayers? Re-enactors? Why did they dress that way?

“Freyja.” The bald one spoke, barely a whisper.

“Freyja?” You repeated. Who?

You’d never heard such a name before, were they calling you that? The men exchanged a look, communicating with their eyes before turning back to you.

“What’s your name?” The bald one asks, his tone in voice changing.

“Y/N,” you reply, beginning to stand up. “Where is this? Where are we right now?”

“Kattegat.” Someone spoke, earning a quick shove by the person next to him.

Your brows frowned together. Kattegat? Maybe you should have paid more attention in geography class when you were in school.

“Tie her up. We must show the Princes, this is an imposter of Freyja.” The bald one spoke again before walking away, his face unreadable.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, looking around as the men closed in on you, starting to grab you. “Get your fucking hands off of me!”

You elbowed the man who grabbed your from behind, hearing a grunt from him as he doubled over, making you flick your long hair out of your face.

“If anyone touches me, I’ll rip your fucking limbs off.” You warned, getting into a fighting stance with your balled fists in the air. You were outnumbered, by many. Before you could even say another word, one of the men quickly backhanded you across the face, knocking you down to the floor where they all cornered you.

—————————

The bald man, whose name you had learned was Magnus, threw you onto the ground with force, causing you to land on your shoulder. A groan left your lips as pain tingled down your arm.

“Don’t fucking throw me, you bald bastard!” You shouted at him, your hands restrained behind your back and your ankles tied together also, restraining you of trying to run off. Your hair had fallen across your face, limiting your view of your surroundings.

The whole hall of people turned to look at you, hearing small whispers about your clothing. The music had stopped playing and the cheers.

Who the fuck were these people?

You could barely make out four men sitting at a large table in front of you, maybe a few feet away, two with fair hair and two with dark.

“What’s the meaning of this, Magnus?” You heard one of them say, his accent making your ears perk up. “Did any of you ask for a thrall for the night?” He directed his question to the men beside him.

“My apologies, Prince Ubbe, but...” The bald man suddenly seemed nervous, unsure of what exactly to say. It made you scoff. A big guy like him was scared of these guys? “We found her in the sea--”

“Spit it out, before I rip your tongue out.” Another man at the table spoke, the threat taking you off guard. His accent was the same.

“We believe she’s an imposter and a volva.”

“An imposter and a volva?” another one of the men at the table snickered. “Sound’s interesting, Ubbe.”

“Who are you calling an imposter?” You sneered at the men. “I don’t even know you.”

“Watch your mouth, whore!” You heard, gasping as one of the men who tied you kicked you in your side.

“Enough.” You heard the first man say, hearing the chair he was sitting in move across the floor. “I asked you what the meaning of this was? You’re spoiling our celebration.”

The bald man grabbed the back of your head, gripping onto your hair as he roughly pulled you onto your knees, making you wince. Your hair moved from your face in the process and you could finally see around you. At the table sat the four men, the Princes, you had gathered.

All handsome— wait. Not the right time.

Their faces were twisted in an expression you had never seen before on someone as soon as they looked at you. The whole of the hall went deathly quiet as eyes were on you.

One of the men at the table stood up abruptly, his hands on the table. He had four twisted braids in his dark hair, his eyes a piercing blue as they stared at you. They were the bluest eyes you had ever seen.

Those eyes. You’d seen them before.

“Freyja.” He said to you. Again with the name.

Your head was tugged back, knocking you out of your trance and filling your chest with rage. Ripping your eye contact from him, you turned your attention to the man behind you.

“Get your hands off me before I break them.” You growled out.

Whispers broke out around you, you scowled at them all. What were they all wearing? Are these Vikings?

Your E/C eyes find their way to the blue ones again, he seemed to tense when you looked at him, his breath catching in his throat. It was like he was a statue.

The one with long brown hair with two braids going into one and green eyes stood up.

“Everybody leave.” Was all he said for everyone to leave the room. “You men can also leave. Get out.”

The men behind you began to leave, Magnus let your hair suddenly go from his grip, letting you land onto your face.

“Fuck.” You whimpered out, a tingling pain going up your nose. The only people left in the large hall were you and the four strange men, you strangely began to feel small.

The blonde man who was at the head of the table began to make his way towards you, his footsteps stopping once in front of you. Was this the one they called Ubbe?

“You,” He kneeled on one knee as he grabbed your jaw with his index finger and thumb. “What is your name?”

You hold your tongue, refusing to tell him. But this only made his grip on your jaw tighten.

“If you want to keep your tongue, I suggest you answer when spoken to.” He said lowly, his eyes just as blue as the man behind him. Were they brothers?

You stare into his eyes, trying to stare him down like a dog but his eyes never faltered. His stare was incredibly intimidating.

You gave an exasperating huff of breath, rolling your eyes to yourself.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

He kept staring at you, his eyes studying your face. His eyes looked sad as if pained as he looked at you. His jaw clenched and unclenched before he spoke again. “Why were you in the sea?”

“I don’t know, one moment I was in my home and the next I was in the water.” You knew this had to do with the necklace and the drumming in the woods. It all has to link up somehow. You went to reach up to grab it but remembered your hands were tied.

His eyes moved from yours as he removed his hand from your jaw, turning to the other men at the table. Your eyes followed. Both the one with blue eyes and the blonde one with fluffy hair were frozen in place still. It’s like they’ve seen a ghost.

The one kneeling in front of you raised his eyebrows at the one with the braids as if asking him what to do. He walked over to the both of you, gawking down at you with his green eyes.

“It’s as if she’d risen from the dead, but how can that be? We saw her body that day.” He said, staring down at you.

“Can someone just explain to me what’s going on?” You pipped up. A loud bang caused you to jump, looking towards the cause of the noise. The blue-eyed man had gotten up, his chair fallen behind him and his hands pressed against the surface of the table. His chest was heaving under his leather armor. His face was twisted with anger and hurt, barely looking at you as he grabbed his crutch.

“I don’t care what you do with her," he looked over to you with eyes so intense, your lips parted as your breath hitched in your throat. You felt your heart dip into your stomach.

Holy shit. Those eyes... Where have you seen them before?

"She's not Freyja." He walked out the hall and passed you, his crutch stabbing into the wood beneath him in anger, he looked as if he was almost snarling as he walked through the doors.

“Ivar--” The one with the green eyes called after him, going to walk after him but the one who was knelt suddenly stood up, holding a hand against his chest.

“Leave him, this must be a shocking sight for him. He needs time.”

“Can you untie me so I can leave?” You cut in, the rope irritating the skin off your wrists. The men ignored you, the blonde fluffy-haired one finally speaking up after this whole time.

“You can’t let her leave.”

—————————

You sat awkwardly in the chair, fiddling with your fingers on your lap as the three men stared at you. The fluffy-haired one had untied you but sat you in the chair at the large table, the green-eyed one threatening that if you tried anything then you’d regret it.

Scary.

They spoke as if you weren’t even there too.

“What kind of clothes is she wearing? She's dressed like a prostitute.” The one with the two braids spoke, cutting an apple slowly with a knife before placing it in his mouth.

Your gaze turned to him, anger rising in your chest. What was with these guys? Do they have no respect?

“Say that again,” You pointed your finger towards him. “and I’ll spoon your eyes out. How can you say anything about what I'm wearing when you’re dressed like a rodent in all those furs?”

The man stared at you for a moment before smirking. Who are you smiling at, you bastard--

“With a mouth like hers, she certainly isn’t Freyja. She wouldn’t dare speak like that.” He said. "Even if she is identical to her."

“That’s because I’m not Freyja. And you do know that this is kidnapping, right? You can get put into jail because of this.”

The brothers exchanged a look.

“And where would you find one of those?” Asked the one with the long braid, Ubbe, you remembered. “We’re the sons of Ragnar, nobody can tell us what we can or cannot do.”

Your eyebrows frowned, looking at them sideways at you felt dumbfounded.

Who is Ragnar?

“As if I know, or care, who Ragnar is. Let me go.” You huffed, folding your arms over your chest. Shit, it was cold here. Even this cloak did nothing to help with your soaking clothes.

Their expressions only looked more confused, as if they were more confused than you are and couldn't understand how you didn't know who Ragnar is.

“Where are you from?” The one eating asked.

“Tell me your names and then I’ll tell you what you want to know.” You cocked an eyebrow at them. If they were stupid enough, they’d tell you so you can report them to the police once you find a way out of here.

God, the air here smells like constant shit. You want to go home already, to your scented candles to cleanse your nose of this stench.

“Curious thing, aren’t you? I’m Hvitserk,” Hvitserk pointed to the other men with the end of his knife. “these are my brothers, Ubbe and Sigurd.”

Ubbe smiled at you as Sigurd only stood still, unsure of what to say to you.

“And the blue-eyed one who walked out?” You asked.

“That was Ivar, our youngest brother.”

“What was his problem?” You quizzed again. Shut up, Y/N. This curiosity is the reason why you’re here in the first place.

Ubbe and Hvitserk looked at you before exchanging a look between them, Sigurd shifting on his feet as he cleared his throat. You noticed his jaw clench and his fists tighten at his sides.

“Well?” You repeated, waiting for an answer from one of them.

“The woman you resemble—” Ubbe began, getting cut off by a nudge from Hvitserk.

“Is it wise to tell her?” He asked his brother lowly, his green eyes looking at you.

“You do not think she deserves to know?”

“She could be deceiving us, a volva like the men said,” Hvitserk warned his brother.

You could only roll your eyes at them as you shifted in the chair, crossing your legs over.

“I don’t know what that is, but I can assure you I'm not deceiving you. I just want to know what’s going on.” You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“You resemble a woman called ‘Freyja’,” Sigurd spoke suddenly, looking into the bright flame that burned in the hall. His brothers turned to look at him with you. “No, you don’t resemble her. You are her.”

“Who is Freyja?” You asked.

“She was my first love.” He turned to look at you. “And Ivar's.”

Hvitserk and Ubbe sat back in the chairs, staying deadly quiet as their brother spoke to you. Their first love?

“What happened to her?” The question made your heart sink, taking you off guard. Why do you care?

“She died protecting us all. She was the most beautiful and loved woman in Kattegat, every man wanted her hand in marriage. Including all of us,” Sigurd suggested to his brothers, making Ubbe take a sip out of his cup and Hvitserk turn his gaze.

“A king came one day, wanting to trade. But once his eyes set on Freyja, demanding to marry her or risk causing a war between us. We all agreed to go to war, prepared, made an army. She refused to cause a war over her, Freyja had always hated violence.”

Sigurd took a shaky breath, his hands trembling in the light of the fire. The sight was enough to let you know how much he was affected by this.

“She... she was in love with Ivar. The thought of either losing him in battle or by marrying herself off was too much for her to ever bare. The day of the battle, Freyja stood between armies, in the middle of the battle field,” His eyes looked at yours, something flashing over them. “She drove a sword through herself in front of everyone. She did it for her love.”

The words made your breath hitch in your throat.

She killed herself... for him?

Your eyes tore away from Sigurd’s figure, looking anywhere but at the brothers.

No wonder Ivar left, you thought. Imagine seeing the woman you loved kill herself in front of you and then seeing her alive again...

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly, staring at your lap. “But I just want to go home. I have a family there, friends. They’re probably searching for me.”

“It’s dark out now,” Ubbe spoke, clearing his throat as he stood. “You should rest here for the night and begin searching for your way back in the morning. We'll help you.”

You nodded a 'thank you', standing from your chair. Hvitserk looked at your soaking clothes, turning to Sigurd.

"Tell one of the thralls to prepare some clothes for Y/N. She can't sleep in those."

Sigurd nodded, walking down a passageway and out of sight. You could see a grateful look on his face towards his brother for getting him out the room.

"You still haven't told me where you're from." Hvitserk turned his attention to you, leaning back against the table.

"Honestly, I don't think any of you will know where I'm from. But I can tell you I'm not from here. I come from a different time." You uttered, holding the necklace under your cloak, your thumb grazing the lines in it. "Someone or something brought me here, I want to know why."

#vikings #ivar the boneless #reader #ivar x reader #sigurd lothbrok #sigurd x reader #Ubbe Lothbrok #ubbe x reader #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk x reader #ivar lothbrok #ragnarssons #hvitserk smut #ubbe smut #ivar smut #sigurd snake in the eye

169 notes · View notes