#but despite him STRAIGHT UP TELLING YOU all the horrific shit he's done | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gch1995 · 2 years

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Imo yoda has got to be one of the worst if not THE worst council member. Although I can understand the hate obi wan gets I can appreciate his character and think he can be redeemed to an extent. He shows sympathy and understanding at times and you can see he does care for anakin, but the cult he was in fucked him up; including his ability to empathise and understand others. Although he follows the council extensively he tries his best to make exceptions for those he cares about. (knowing about anakin and padme but choosing to ignore it because he knows anakin is happy like that, training anakin despite the council not wanting him to, yes I know it was qui gons dying wish but that is apart of it to an extent) the thing is being raised in the order took a massive toll on him and he seeks too much approval from them and doesn’t ever question their ways. He is a heavily flawed character but he does have redeeming qualities. Yoda on the other hand? None. Zero. Absolutely nothing. Nothing, not one thing about his character is redeemable. (Bit of a rant) This little green cunt is happily shown training a group of kids with lethal weapons in his fucked up cult. He is 500 fucking years old but never bothered to even attempt at learning how to speak normally, including when ordering the slave army he controlled. This fucker spent all his life supporting and feeding into the fuckery of the order whilst constantly telling himself it was the right thing. Arrogantly sitting in his little chair allowing slavery, making child soldiers and allowing god knows how much abuse to happen to others. This shit is responsible for approximately 700 years worth of abuse towards god knows how many others. This fucker straight up denies his responsibility for everything he’s done. And it’s not just the abuse. He’s caused billions to suffer because of his arrogance. The thing is, while I can find myself looking at a character like obi wan and thinking

“wow, this character is heavily flawed but has a lot of interesting aspects and I can sympathise with him at times. I like his character and the evolution of how he reacts and responds to situations although it’s sad considering his past and how those actions devolve into something horrific and unhealthy to the point where he becomes the abuser and carries on that line which is sad. Even though there are many things that he is responsible for there are times when it’s not his fault and I can empathise with that without excusing the ones he was responsible for even if they were heavily affected by the things he went through”

But when I look at yoda?

“I hope this cunt burns in hell for eternity for the things he’s done”

Legitimately cannot put into words just how much I hate him. He’s the one who’s heavily responsible for the way obi wan turned out and most of all:

He’s the one who tried to manipulate, gaslight and force Luke to kill his own mess of a father that he created.

I genuinely think he cannot be redeemed (for me, at least. I’ll never forgive that little shit) for everything thing he’s done. (Sorry for the long ask)

Definitely, agree with you! Within a Star Wars canon-divergent AU narrative that actually framed Obi-Wan’s bad choices and flaws as seriously bad ones in the story with stakes that he either learned from and self-improved upon before it was too late and/or didn’t learn from and suffered negative consequences for as a result. Yeah, he loses people he cares about, and, at least in regards to Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano, that is partially his own fault. However, while I do feel some sympathy for him and realize that he’s flawed, it’s difficult for me to get on board with his character in canon as he is written because he never actually learns from his mistakes on screen, nor are there any real stakes in him making seriously bad choices and not learning in comparison to Anakin and Luke. I don’t hate him, but it’s hard for me to get invested in a character who can always magically get the upper hand in his duels with his enemies or opponents suddenly getting baited, provoked, pushed into a corner, or dumbed down for him to be able to effortlessly defeat them. He also repeatedly gets away with being an asshole in many of the same ways that Luke and Anakin get framed as wrong for and/or suffer consequences for in the OT and PT movies when they don’t learn to be better. Yeah, Obi-Wan loses people he cares about, and at least in regards to Anakin and Ahsoka, that is partially his own fault, but there is no sort of humbling or meaningful development in canon for him.

Still, because, as you said, Obi-Wan also was a victim of Yoda’s cult who did genuinely grow to care for Qui Gonn, Anakin, and Ahsoka, in spite of being really bad at it, he does have a lot of potential to be a better character in canon-divergent/AU material that actually has him facing real stakes and learning to take real self-accountability for his bad choices before getting to earn the hero treatment in the narrative. Within canon and especially his fandom of diehard Kenobist fans, though, Obi-Wan is such a grossly overrated Gary Stu that I’ve genuinely began to find his character more annoying and boring than he was before.

Yoda, on the other hand, really doesn’t seem to have any sort of real conscience or significant guilt for being an asshole. Nor does he really feel like a person at all because the only things he cares about are avoiding the dark side and staying in power. He also has no real backstory, so I don’t understand why he’s become an unapologetically apathetic asshole, learned nothing throughout his life, and remained willfully in-denial for the past several centuries. I don’t understand why he was allowed to be in charge for so long. I don’t understand why he is the disaster of a person he is in the series because there is no development for his character. With Anakin, Obi-Wan, Padme, the rest Republic senate, and the other Jedi they may not be wholly innocent, but I can understand why.

#anti yoda #i agree that besides Palpatine Yoda is the worst #Yoda is the worst Star Wars character #yeah technically Palpatine is more evil but at least he is framed as a bad guy #yeah Anakin Obi-Wan Padme and many of the other members of the fallen Jedi and Republic have committed inexcusable atrocities too #but at least I can understand why they became terrible people in their fear of the unknown when operating under compromised agency #at least we know they were actually victims who were products of broken systems and there is genuine humanity beneath their asshole side #i really don’t like canon!obi-wan kenobi #because he’s a Gary Stu #it annoys me because in contrast Anakin and Luke are constantly hit with warnings and negative consequences when they’re assholes #and it shouldn’t be that easy for obi wan to not feel the temptation of going too far dark at all #because in many ways he has many of the same flaws that Anakin and Luke display and/or develop #but somehow we’re supposed to believe he’s so great at avoiding temptation #in spite of also having a hair trigger temper being vindictive towards enemies and fighting dirty all the time #Kenobi has potential in stories that give him more conflict and stakes for being an assholr #or have him actually grow #but within canon and especially his diehard fandom obi-WAN’s character annoys me #I’m critical of obi-wan for how he’s treated in the canon narrative and his fan base but he does have potential #he did care about the skywalker boys in spite of often treating them both badly particularly Anakin #and he does have occasional moments when he questions Yoda’s and the council’s bullshit #so in a canon-divergent/au or a story from his pov that doesn’t completely let him off the hook for being an asshole #and refuses to let him actually be a hero until he actually can admit he fucked up I could see potential

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astraltrickster · 2 years

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Along the lines of my previous post, and looking at other things currently going down in media ("which ones?" well this post was written on October 16 2022 if you REALLY want to be able to search up specifics, but until everything I've suggested in this post or something like it comes to pass, feel free to fill in from your own imagination because it's a recurrent issue, that's WHY I leave it vague)...I really want to see serious studies done on the psychological impact of repeatedly discovering that the people behind some of your favorite media, behind the stories and bits that helped you through some of the worst times in your life, are just...truly horrible people.

This is More than it ever has been - we're in the middle of the third "once-in-a-lifetime" economic crisis that most people really feeling these hits have lived through, which means that a lot of what we're finding out about is the horrific workplace abuse that's ALWAYS been rampant in the entertainment industry and in many ways is only getting worse under these conditions because the victims have fewer options to escape than ever before, and Twitter exists to let celebrities show their asses themselves, rather than the info having to come out as hard-to-corroborate rumors in gossip mags.

To be clear - I'm not saying it's Better if it happens and we just don't know about it. I'm saying that I want this study to happen as a first step to dismantling celebrity culture as we know it.

In fact, I also want studies on the flip side; just basic observation shows that it's become common for people to be - understandably - extremely guarded about public figures after finding out that a once-beloved children's author fell down a rabbit hole into becoming a political lobbyist for hate groups, or that the rapper they always enjoyed for his eccentricity ended up using that eccentricity to pass his descent into violent bigotry off as a Bit far longer than anyone should have let him get away with, or that the original dev behind their first favorite horror game would sell most of his audience out to fascists to save a buck now that he's rich, or that all along their favorite gamer funny guys were enacting all the toxicity and abusive bullshit of the dark side of both Bro Culture AND corporate entertainment culture behind the scenes, and used that "yeah we're all friends here~" vibe to excuse it and even make it WORSE than average (note: despite the timing, this is NOT vaguing a SINGULAR instance; I'm vaguing MULTIPLE, probably including a few that haven't happened yet); or that their favorite pop stars were patrons of a literal sex trafficking torture ring straight out of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo - ...the list goes on, and on, and on. So, what does it do to public figures - especially small-time ones, without PR people and social media managers - whose worst crimes are basic, common human flaws such as "was a shitty friend 15 years ago" or "thought they were lovingly roasting their friends in middle school, realized later it was actually just bullying" or "didn't do anything from it besides say some really stupid shit to an insignificantly small audience many years ago, but believed the bigoted misconceptions their parents/culture taught them until the vast amount of information and experiences shown on the internet taught them better", to have that understandable fear taken out on them?

Hint: as someone who has one foot in each side - as someone who's gotten attached to shit that turned out to be monstrous and that very much gives me a fear of getting attached to anything or anyone (on a healthy parasocial level [which does exist, this issue has just kinda skewed the definition of that word], or even personally), and as someone who's been an actor since age 6 - I can tell you that the answer is...Nothing Good. I have nightmares about getting involved in something with more reach than the community theater scene (which I do hope to do one day!), wording something poorly or even outright Being Incorrect about something, and suddenly having people out for my blood. I have nightmares about finding out that my best work friend secretly hates my guts, or is abusing people as soon as my back is turned. It keeps me up at night thinking about all the abuse in the entertainment industry AND the normalized abuse online born from the understandable concern that ANYONE could be the next example in the above paragraph and resulting fear of attachment.

It's...it's bad, guys. It's bad, and we need serious studies into just HOW bad, and we need to use those studies as a jumping off point to DO something about it.

#serious tag #mental health #media

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closhelby · 3 years

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On and off - Thomas Shelby smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Warnings: swearing & smut

Word count: 2.1K

AN: please give any feedback on smut and what you want to see next? Tried a different writing style...

he seemed to be the ex that you couldn’t get over. You couldn’t escape him as hard as you tried, so why were you surprised when he showed up on your doorstep, soaked from the lashing rain that was falling outside at two am.

“You said we were over,” you muttered as you rubbed your sleepy eyes. You were actually awake, feeling sorry for yourself because of how different you wanted your life to be. Somehow you still wanted your relationship to work, despite how much he continued to push you away. You were too good for him, too proper for him, and most of all, you were too nice for him.

These were just assumptions. No one had rarely seen you get wound up, never seen you break or pushed you to that point, because no one needed to. But it was certainly brewing.

“I just wanted to see you,” he slurred.

You sighed, “Ex’s shouldn’t want to see each other though Tommy.”

He pushed the door open slightly, suggesting he came in, and you let him. Gave in to him again. I mean, how couldn’t you?

“Y/n, I don’t want you to be upset.”

“Tommy, if you’ve came here to say the same thing I’ve already heard, then politely fuck off,” you were starting to get annoyed at the assumption you were too nice, because you weren’t. You just gave off that impression. You gave everyone their first chance, as you believed they should, but depending on that, you would give your side. You were caring, but wouldn’t dare to be crossed.

“I’ll always love you, bu-“

“But, I’m too nice. I couldn’t deal mentally with what you do. How you make your money. Well Tommy, you’ve got me very wrong. But that’s your choice, now please” You spoke quickly, “get out of my fucking house.”

You could see the defeat in his face. He meant well, but he was pushing it and you were coming close to breaking point at being nice anymore. He left quickly after that, muttered a bye then disappeared in the horrific night.

The next morning you were awoken with loud bangs coming from your front door. Sighing as you walked towards it, “Tommy, how many times have i to te- oh hi Ada.”

Ada pushed her and baby Karl straight past you, “get ready. It’s happening today, and I’ve got a point to make.”

“Bloody hell Ada. Some context.”

“Billy Kimber.”

“Funeral attire by the looks of it then.” You snorted, and Ada laughed, “yes, the point we are making.” following her into the bedroom.

“Understood,” you agreed, then making an effort to dress solely in black, just exactly how you would if it was their funeral. You and Ada had in fact been friends for a while, you were in Johns year at school and had gotten close to him therefor you were always at the Shelby household. No one expected that yourself and Mr Thomas Shelby would ever become anything, but circumstances change before the war. He promised the world to you in his letters. Always telling you that you both would be married and have children on his return, but deep down you knew that the war changed that outcome and his outlook on life in general.

You had barely gotten time to think before Ada had you storming up the road, in the distance up the empty street you could see a group of men. You and Ada split off as you reached them, both pushing through the men who you assumed were Billy Kimber’s.

“Ada,” Freddie seethed.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you woman doing,” Tommy shouted.

Ada continued to scream, rambling on about people having family’s at home. How they are all worried, and would be attending their funeral. But of course, Billy likes to mock, and made a fly away comment. You were stood at an angle to Billy’s men, so the gun that was in your hand was out of their sight, slightly tucked under your skirt.

Danny Wizz-bang had already lunged towards Billy on the back of his comment. Billy’s men shooting him dead, dropping to the ground instantly. Guns were now raised on both ends, Ada shouting for them to lower them, while Billy moved forward shooting into Tommy’s direction, managing to shoot him in the left shoulder.

Your eyes shot red, without the slightest hesitation, lifted the gun from your stockings, turning and shooting him straight in the head. You got there before anyone else did. The silence was loud as Tommy’s men couldn’t quite get their head around you, the nicest woman they had met, you had just shot someone dead without hesitation.

Billy’s men instantly raised their weapons in your direction, but didn’t shoot, “Tommy and Billy fought fairly. He didn’t win, end of story. Now fuck off” you ordered, turning and marching through the peaky lot before disappearing into the Shelby household.

Not even a few minutes later, the group followed and pulled in a wounded tommy. You didn’t even bat an eyelid, used to this shit, it was his shoulder. He would survive. But it still wasn’t nice seeing him in pain.

You sat in silence, while Jeremiah Jesus worked on trying to get the bullet out of Tommy’s pierced skin, downing whiskey after whiskey. No one seemed to talk to you, instead looked at you with worry. Their outlook on you had changed within the space of 20 minutes.

Tommy was now up, the bullet was now out of his skin and we were then all pushed into the room where Danny Wizz-bang’s body lay before us. You had rarely seen a dead body, infact everyone seemed to shield you from the violence but not today. You stood to the right of Tommy, it didn’t bother you in the slightest. He kept giving you an eye, full of concern, unsure how you were going to act.

You zoned out when Tommy spoke, you had never really spoke to Danny before. So this wasn’t much of a deal to you personally, you were awakened from your thoughts when Tommy was shoving a bottle infront if you, “Danny Wizz-bang,” you spoke, raising the bottle then downing a bit before passing it on to John for him to do the same. It went round the group that surrounded the table, before it got back to Tommy.

The place was lively, full of people drinking, and talking of heading to the Garrison. You couldn’t be arsed, sick of the sight of Tommy looking over at you constantly.

“Why do you keep looking at me?,” you spat. Having enough of him.

“You just killed an enemy of mine without even blinking an eyelid.”

“You all seem to think I’m so nice, eh. Not the right woman for Tommy, eh. Well I’m done being fucking nice.” The pause was loud, as you walked to the door, “and may I add, that did not bother me in the slightest. You all have just shielded me so much you didn’t know how much I could handle.” Slamming the door behind you, turning up to go back to your house.

“You’ve got to give her a chance Tommy. She’s tougher than you think.” Ada advised her older brother. Tommy nodding in response, knowing he was starting to realise what he really had.

You were in your house not only five minutes before he burst the door open, finding you sipping a whiskey on your couch, “I’m not going to keep doing this tommy. This is the second time in two months.”

He had done this before, and like you, couldn’t stay away. He couldn’t bare to walk past you in the street, perhaps you being with another man. It would tip him over the edge that he was already so very close to.

“We’re not going to keep doing it. I’ll give credit where it’s due.” He started to come closer to you, taking your hands in his, pulling you up to him, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

He took your hand placing it at the back of his neck, twisting his hair in between your fingers. You pulled him into you, pressing a kiss onto his lips. He pulled you in closer, hands holding your waist.

“I love you Tommy. When will you fucking realise that.” You whispered to him, your forehead touching his. He smiled, “I love you.”

He pulled your face into his, his fingers intertwined in your h/c hair. Their tongues intertwined with each other’s, as the kiss deepened. You started to unbuckle his trousers, dropping them revealing his already hard length. You pulled back from the kiss and dropped to your knees, not breaking eye contact as you took his erected length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. He let out a soft moan, carfullly moving your hair out of your face. You started to suck on it, bobbing your head up and down, satisfying him, as he threw his head back in pleasure.

He couldn’t wait any longer, he just longed to fuck you hard. He pulled you off your knees, taking your hand into his as he pulled you into the bedroom, pushing you back on the bed as he lifted up your dress over your head. He traced his fingers over your thigh, placing soft kisses as he went reaching your pussy he pulled down your black lace thongs off, you flicked them off your legs. He placed two fingers in between your slit, running up and down slowly, “wet eh?” Pushing his finger into you, slowly going in and out,

“Tommy.” You breathed. He smiled before pushing a second finger and going a more steady pace, pulling them out and sticking his thick shaft into you, thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You started to arch your back, gripping at his hands, and he started to increase his pace, beginning to thrust at a rapid pace.

You pulled back, and pushed him back onto the bed, sitting on top of his erect penis, slowly bouncing on the tip, every few bounces pushing it all the way in. He threw his head back, mouth just ever so slightly open, “y/n” he stuttered.

You instantly started to ride him, his body almost non existent, starting to twitch at how close he was becoming. “Make me cum,” he edged you on, “please.”

You give him a smirk, before increasing the pace, he gripped your thighs, rocking you as you took the lead. Bouncing on his cock, was making you very close, bouncing as you both came to the high, falling into his bare chest, both of you breathing heavily attempting to recover from the love that you both had made.

Following the weeks of the murder of Billy Kimber, you noticed a drastic change in how people treated you. People would always still mutter a hello, however would step out of your way, and you were close to being feared just about as much as Tommy himself.

You were walking Into the shop, placing your coat down as you went to make a cup of tea before starting the day. You noticed Polly staring at you, “what are you looking at pol?” You laughed slightly, turning to face her, cup of tea in hand.

“Come here,” she motioned towards you, cupping your left boob into her hand. You furrowed your brows, wondering what the fuck she was doing, “your pregnant. It’s a boy.”

You were in total disbelief, you stumbled back into a chair closest to you, “fuck sake.”

“Tommy’s?” She asked, and you gave her a look of disgust, “yes obviously it’s Tommy’s.”

“For fuck sake”, you moaned, just as Tommy himself walked into the shop. Placing a kiss on your cheek as he walked past into his office, you rolled your eyes at pol who raised her eyes brows in response. Sighing following him into the office, “morning.”

You sighed, “got something to tell ya.” He placed the bit of paper that was in his hands down, turning his full attention onto you. “eh, I’m pregnant”

His eyes went wide, “are ye really?” He smiled, quickly getting up and making his way over to you, taking your hands into his.

“Boy.” You could barely string a sentence together, you knew he would be happy but with how rocky everything was recently you were slightly unsure.

“Boy eh? Someone coming for my crown.” He repeated, “this is great news, now go home. No woman of mine will be working here while carrying my child”, he ordered.

He placed a kiss onto your lips, soft, sweet, “I love you so much, you have no idea,” he muttered to you.

“I love you too, and baby boy,”

“And baby boy,” he repeated, a wide smile spread across his face.

#tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby smut

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fruitcoops · 3 years

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Coops truth or drink but make the questions JUICY

You want spicy? I can do spicy ;) Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for many, many mentions of sex, as well as Marlene’s terrible alcohol

“Hey, everybody, welcome back to Truth or Drink!” Remus lifted the bottle of alcohol in a ‘cheers’ motion and Sirius snorted across from him. “I’m Remus Lupin.”

“And I’m Sirius Black.”

“And we’re about to answer some incredibly uncomfortable questions for the world to see.” Remus poured two shots and passed one to Sirius; they downed them together and both grimaced. “Jesus, Marlene, is this gasoline?”

Sirius smacked his lips. “Oh, that’s horrific.”

“It’s motivation to answer the questions instead of drinking,” Marlene called behind the camera. “Ready?”

“Nope.” Nevertheless, Sirius took a card off the top of the deck. “Starting off strong. If our sex life was a porn, what genre would it be?”

Remus thought for a moment. “Gay?”

“My mind when directly to ‘sports’.”

“Is that a thing?” He looked back to the crew. “Does sports porn exist?”

“I think that’s just ESPN,” Sirius laughed, sliding the cards over. “Your turn.”

Remus cleared his throat. “If you could get rid of one of my friends, who would it be?”

“James Potter,” Sirius said without hesitation. “What a bastard.”

“It doesn’t matter that you’re the godfather of his child or anything.”

“Nah. He stole my cinnamon rolls last Saturday and I’ll never forgive him.” Remus shook his head as Sirius drew a new card. “What’s the most hurtful thing I’ve ever said to you?”

“I think it’s more the things you didn’t say, if I’m being honest.” Remus bit his lip. “You’re very careful with your words, so you haven’t said many awful things out loud.”

“What’s the most hurtful thing he’s ever done, then?” Marlene asked.

Remus hesitated. “It’s kind of a tie. Either leaving at the airport or not answering your phone afterward.” Wordlessly, Sirius reached across the table and took his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “We figured it out in the end, so I really don’t think about it much anymore.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too. What am I best at in bed, and where do I need improvement?”

Sirius took another shot. “I’ll tell you when we get home, don’t worry,” he said when Remus gave him an offended look. “Have you ever faked an orgasm with me?”

“God, no,” Remus scoffed. “Are you kidding? First of all, it’s kind of impossible, and second of all, why would I have to?” Sirius winked at the camera and Remus flicked him on the arm as he took a new card. “Have you ever thought about breaking up with me?”

Sirius frowned. “No, never. I was afraid I’d lose you after we were outed, but I never wanted to.”

“Ditto.”

“Would you ever consider an open relationship?”

Remus shook his head. “Nah. I totally respect people who do, but I think we’re good as a pair. Would you?”

“It’s not really my thing, either. I get to be selfish and have you all to myself.” He looked rather smug about that particular fact.

“What’s the most annoying thing about me?”

“Besides your terrible sock habits?” He took a second to think. “You’re really slow getting ready, but once you are, we have to leave immediately.”

“That’s fair.”

“If you could sleep with anyone in the world, who would you choose?”

��You.” Remus seemed surprised by the question. “No competition.”

“Really?” Marlene chimed in. “There’s no celebrity crush?”

He stared at her. “I’m sorry, have you seen my fiancé? You think I’m passing up a chance to tap that?”

“Or get tapped,” Sirius added, handing him a shot. They clinked them together and drank. “Merde.”

Remus set his glass down and took another card. “What part of my body would you change?”

Sirius set his elbows on the table, narrowing his eyes at Remus. “Nothing,” he said after a short pause. “You’re the handsomest man I’ve ever seen. Oh, this one should be fun. What do you think of my family?”

Remus’ blush faded and he coughed. “Regulus is great.”

“And the rest?”

“Regulus is really great. I’m so glad he’s your only relative on this earth.” With a serene smile, he pulled a new card; almost instantly, his jaw dropped. “The average duration of sex for most couples is ten minutes. How long do you think we last?” He put the card down and looked over incredulously. “Ten minutes?”

“Are straight people okay?” Sirius asked, mildly horrified. “Uh, we definitely last longer than ten minutes, holy shit. Have we ever not reached that mark?” Remus raised his eyebrows. “Oh, right. Usually, we go longer than ten minutes. Why do you love me?”

“Other than the fact that you’re the best person ever and I can’t wait to get married?” Remus rested his chin on his hand as Sirius flushed lightly. “Hmmm. How much time do we have?”

“Try and keep it to a couple sentences,” Marlene sighed.

“You are kind, and sweet, and funny, and you match my competitiveness perfectly. You love me for exactly who I am, despite everything we’ve been through, and you care so deeply for your friends. There, two sentences.” Remus smiled and Sirius leaned over the table to give him a chaste kiss, tracing his jaw with his thumb. “Alright, my turn. Should we have sex more or less often than we do?”

Sirius reached for the alcohol at the same time Remus offered his shot glass. He scrunched his nose up when he drank, but didn’t outwardly complain. “Whatever this is, it’s really starting to hit.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m definitely tipsy,” Remus laughed. “It’s a good thing we brought Lily with us.”

“Which one—aw, come on—which one of my friends are you most attracted to do not answer this—”

“James Potter,” Remus interrupted with a barely-hidden smirk. “What a man.”

“For the record, he’s joking,” Sirius said as he buried his face in his hands.

Remus quirked an eyebrow. “Am I? How do you know?”

“Lily, my fiancé is going to steal your husband,” Sirius called.

“Good for them!” Lily’ distant voice answered.

Remus kissed Sirius’ forehead. “You know you’re the only one for me. Oof, have you ever thought about cheating on me?”

“Nope,” Sirius said easily. “Never crossed my mind. What were you thinking about the last time we were having sex?”

“When was that?” Remus asked, frowning in concentration. “Because if it was at the rink, I was hoping we wouldn’t get caught, but—” He cut himself off with a stifled laugh and Sirius’ eyes widened. “—I have to admit, I was thinking about grocery shopping the other morning.”

“What?”

“We only had two containers of leftovers in the fridge and I was so hungry.” Sirius continued to pout. “Don’t worry, baby, it was a fleeting thought. Do I get to ask the last one?”

“Looks like it.”

Remus’ mischievous smile softened, and he set the card down to gaze at his fiancé. “Do you think we’ll last?”

“Yeah, I do.” Sirius returned the smile and kissed the side of his hand. “I want to spend my life with you, that’s for sure.”

It was Remus’ turn to kiss him, propping his elbows on the table for leverage. It was deeper than the previous one, but still appropriate for the cameras. “Love you,” he said against his lips.

“Love you more.”

“We’re playing that game, huh?”

“Do you want to sign us off?” Marlene asked before things could get out of hand.

“I’m Sirius Black.”

“I’m Remus Lupin.”

“And thanks for watching Lion Pride. Be sure to like and subscribe for more!”

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jinkicake · 4 years

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Periods Don’t Stop Nothing But A Sentence

Bokuto, Kuroo, Ushijima learn about the benefits of having sex while you’re on your period and offer their help.

Bokuto Koutarou x Reader

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

For you, lovely anon~~ I wrote a majority of this at like 5 am so maybe that’s why it may sound a little crazy, hehe. (･ω･)v Also to all my loves who also experience periods, allow me to offer a great investment! A heating pad, I’ve been using the same one for years and it’s so worth it like it helps sooo much with cramps and aches. I recommend!

S M U T </3

WC- 1,974

~~~

Bokuto Koutarou

Bokuto would not be afraid to bring this up, he wants to do whatever he can to help you~

He would never talk about having sex on your period in a gross degrading way or any way that makes you uncomfortable because Bokuto respects women

It would be so casual, like when he sees you hurting because of your cramps he would offer you an orgasm, ugh how sweet right?

And even though, who would want an orgasm during their period when they are feeling so gross and sick…. But who could say no?

Bokuto would plan this out and do it exactly the way you want to achieve the orgasm, making sure you are well-situated the entire time

Again, Bokuto would only do this if you were okay with it like poor thing just wants to make you feel better

Since he does not understand the pain and horrific feeling that comes with having a period, Bokuto wants to help you however he can and in the best way

He is such a sweet boy, please

Sex is sex, I don’t think you being on your period would make it any different for him

Expect the sweetest cuddles and shit afterward ~~~

Bokuto’s hands grip your hips gently, his thumbs caress your sides as he stares down at you. His golden eyes are full of concern and he watches your every reaction as he drags his clothed cock over your center. The simple motion has you weak, despite the layers of clothes between the two of you, you feel everything. The pleasure is immense, the tip of his cock rubs your clit in just the right way to make you close your eyes in relief.

“A-are you okay?” Bokuto whispers, not wanting to disrupt your moment. He lowers his lips to kiss your temple, the soft action is drastically different from the way his hips are moving. It’s almost sinful.

“Don’t stop,” You pant into his neck as your back arches into his chest. Your hips rise and you start to grind into him. It should be illegal, how he feels as you clutch his back. You can feel every muscle rippling under your touch, he is so warm, so hard that it makes the overall experience ten times better. His large arms make you feel so protected, so cared for, that you just want to hear him cum already. Your hands slide up his back to his hair and you fist the grey strands between your fingers. Bokuto keeps knocking his hips into yours and tries to silence his grunts, but you won’t have it. “let me hear you Koutarou.”

You tug roughly on his hair and moan loudly when he ruts against you, Bokuto leans down closer to you and braces himself on one of his elbows beside your head.

“Ah, baby you can’t just do that,” Bokuto warns and you ignore him, instead you focus on his hand that is cupping your breast. His large palm gently works the soft flesh and is sure not to be too rough with your sensitive nipples. You tilt your chin up and press your lips to Bokuto’s, moaning when he kisses you back. It’s almost as if any restraint inside your boyfriend snaps and he is straight into fucking you like he normally would. The hand on your hip holds you still as his cock grinds into your clothed core, over and over his hips continue to move. As your mouth falls open at the moans slipping past your lips, the ones that Bokuto is selfishly taking as his own, your boyfriend wastes no time in sticking his tongue in your mouth. It almost works as a gag, silencing any noises you make even as you cum in your panties.

Kuroo Tetsurou

PLS KUROO WOULD SO BE INTO IT

“Periods don’t stop nothing but a sentence babygirl” -Kuroo Tetsurou

This information would probably always be in the back of his mind every time you got your period,,,,

Kuroo would only bring it up if you brought it up because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, like push anything on you

Yeah, Kuroo would not care if you are on your period, if you’re horny and he’s horny like?? What is the issue, what is stopping you two?

As long as you’re okay with it and want it, of course, he will do whatever you desire~

Sidebar. Wait, isn’t Kuroo like in med school? Or he’s studying biology or something….. so even if he did not find it appetizing he wouldn’t care and would still do it. Biology students have seen worse already….

He supports the natural pain reliever that is solely giving you orgasms

Would he make period jokes? Lol yeah he would, but all in good fun, just to cheer you up and make you laugh~

In the end, Kuroo just wants you to be comfortable. If you feel more comfortable doing it in the shower or wherever, he would follow. He’ll treat you so delicately like he will take such good care of you~~

The warm water completely soaks you, feeling amazing against your skin as it takes away some of the aches you are facing. You’re leaning back against Kuroo’s chest as he washes your hair, his long fingers massage your scalp and the heat against your lower back almost makes you quiver.

“Tetsurou,” You call and give in to each of his touches, pressing your thighs together subconsciously.

“Hmm, what is it kitten?” Kuroo coos into your ear, lightly kissing up to your neck while massaging the shampoo throughout the bottom of your hair.

“Please fuck me.” You beg, your voice coming out breathy and you feel your boyfriend halt his fingers in your hair.

“Are you sure baby? That’s okay with you?” He asks, placing his hands on your shoulders to turn you around so he can look into your eyes. When you nod, you saw something flash in his eyes, a cocky smile lights up his face.

“Rinse your hair out, I’ll be right back,” Kuroo promises and kisses the corner of your lip before stepping out of the shower. As you stand under the showerhead, you listen as your boyfriend rummages through the cabinets. No doubt, setting up towels for after you’re all done and getting you clothes that you had forgotten to. When he comes back in front of you, you can’t help but frown at the condom he has on but your core jolts nonetheless. “how do you want it kitten?”

You back into one of the walls, hissing at the cool temperature against your shoulders. Kuroo stands on top of you and you can’t help but spread your legs as you look up at him.

“I’m just going to go for it, okay?” He checks with you once more and you nod, closing your eyes when you feel one of his arms wrap around your waist. “Look at me.” His tone is more demanding this time and you whine before opening your eyes. Kuroo is staring down at you, his lips hovering over your own and as soon as he presses them together, he slides into you.

His moans are muffled against your lips, the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly nearly breaks him out into a sweat. Kuroo continues to work your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth to rub against your own.

You can already feel most of the pain diminishing as he thrusts into you, the pleasure being the only thing you can focus on.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

This sweet baby, ugh, he would find out the whole ‘benefits from having sex while on your period’ after he deeply searched the internet on ways to help you

Ushijima hates seeing his sweet love in pain, okay? He was very worried and decided to do research, mentally noting that heat can help relieve your cramps the moment he found it out

He’d bluntly bring it up, like if you’re curled on the bed in a ball, Ushijima would just sit down beside you and recite everything he remembered

“Orgasms might relieve your cramps and headaches” “Having sex can shorten your period” “It’ll help you relax and soothe your moody mind”

It might be awkward at first, like why is he bringing this up? Does he really want to have sex while you’re on your period? You’d just have to smile and nod

“I want to help you, if you’ll allow me” Ushijima would offer whatever he can to help you feel better

Personally, I don’t think he would care at all that you’re on your period. It’s just sex to him, or a means to help relieve the pain you’re facing.

He’d take full control, you don’t even have to lift a finger. Ushijima is all about YOU!

Yes, he would look up and do extensive research on what he can do to make you most comfortable and of course he would communicate with you to see what you want

Ushijima is just such a big sweetheart and would take so much care of you, even if it would be so hard for him to take it slow, hehe

“You can take one more,” Ushijima tells you as he brings the vibrator back down to your clit. “Right, my love?” He pushes when you don’t respond and even though he has the small device hovering over your clit, you can still feel the vibrations. You manage to give him a weak nod through your post-orgasm clouded mind. “No, use your words.” Ushijima continues to run one of his hands alongside your inner thigh, massaging the soft skin.

“Yes, I can. Please Wakatoshi.” You beg and Ushijima glances up at your eyes before back down at your clothed core. He nods and presses the vibrating toy against your clit, gently circling it before resting it once more.

“Orgasms can help your period become shorter.” He tells you and you furrow your brows in confusion, but still nodding at the fact. “Your cramps may lessen too, it can help you relax.”

“Umm, thanks for letting me know?” You hum and try to once again focus on his light touches along your thigh. Ushijima goes to open his mouth again but you shoot him a pointed look. “It isn’t really the best dirty talk, honey.” You smile softly and he closes his mouth, nodding in thought as he continues to hold the vibrator to your clit. You watch as his head lowers to kiss your hip, mouthing at the skin before moving his lips to your stomach, you get a vision full of brown hair. “Wakatoshi~” You breathe and your boyfriend quietly moans against your skin. He runs his nose along your hipbone before pushing one of your legs up. Ushijima stretches the other leg straight out while the other bends up with your knee facing the ceiling.

“Tell me if it gets too much.” His words fall numb on your ears because all you can focus on is the deeper stimulation on your clit. As Ushijima continues to hold the device, that looks quite tiny in his hands, he moves to rest between your thighs. Behind the vibration, you can see the way he is holding the back of your thigh and kissing along the inside of it. The sight alone nearly made you come undone.

“T-talk me through it.” You can feel it creeping but you need more, you need Ushijima so badly.

“You’re doing so good, my beautiful love.” He starts lightly, pushing the vibrator and gently applying more pressure with each of his words. “I can’t wait to eat you out until your legs are numb and then fuck you until you can’t speak. Wouldn’t you like that? I know how badly you want it but you have to be patient.” His voice is so low, rumbling deep from his chest like he is barley holding back from doing just as he described. Sadly you know he can’t, at least not for a few days.

#bokuto kotarou x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #bokuto x reader #kuroo x reader #ushijima x reader #bokuto smut #kuroo smut #ushijima smut #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

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rrickgrrimes8 · 3 years

Note

Can I get rick grimes x gender neutral reader

The reader was an elite solider in the U.S army when the virus happened. They been traveling the South for five ½ years alone. So now they landed in Georgia when the Saviors and Rick Group are at war. One day Rick is attacked by the Saviors, but the reader saves Rick from the Saviors with a rifle but escapes before Rick ever notices. Days later the reader meets Rick (like how Jesus met Rick.) But Rick captures the reader and interrogates him. In the end Reader reveals how he saved Rick. Rick then forces the reader work/live with the group even though the real.

A Soldier ~ Rick Grimes imagine

hey sorry for the delay ive been super busy coz i just started school back after isolating and i’ve been doing exams all week

also for anyone else who requested i’ll try and complete them soon really sorry please remember i haven’t forgotten about yall i’m just busy

anyways @iawaythrown hope you like this thank you for requesting

let me know if there’s any mistakes so i can fix it thank you x

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

The sun had set hours earlier but that didn’t stop you. Unrelenting you continued through the heat and the exhaustion. You couldn’t stop. Not now. Not after everything you had gone through. Even before this, you wouldn’t allow yourself to stop. Being one of America’s pride and joys serving as a respected sergeant. You had served 10 years before the world went to shit and it made you laugh now. You always thought that the meaning of your life - the purpose - was to protect and serve against threats to the U.S.A. If only you knew that your greatest threat was against the dead now living. You were grateful, more than anything. You had a lot more in this world than others did. And now 5 1/2 years later you were still going. Never stopping. Not for anything.

Except... when you caught wind of a certain curly-haired man. He was being attacked and was substantially outmanned. You thought the best use of your time was to protect people just like you had in your previous life. The man was cornered now by the time you’d made the decision to help him. Three men dressed in leather charged him with any weapon they could find. He fought against them - to the best of his ability. Which seemed to be skilled at least. You gripped your trusty rifle, aimed the scope and without hesitation fired.

One man fell.

Then the next.

And then the last.

The blue-eyed man scoured the area for you, curious about the location of the shots. You, however, were smarter than that. You didn’t know this man. You didn’t know if he deserved what those men would’ve done to him but you did know trust is to be earned in this world not given carelessly. You ducked away out of his vision. But you never strayed far from the man.

You could say curiosity got the better of you. Naturally and from a very young age, you’d always pester, investigate, fight for answers when they really weren’t warranted. Your mom used to tell you how curiosity killed the cat but you preferred to say it saved the cat. Being curious never hurt anyone and it certainly came as an advantage to you. When meeting people you knew how to hide, how to watch. And yes it may be creepy but it was necessary. You weren’t stupid, far from it, so why stop your ways now?

The man didn’t return back to a camp after the attack - one that you knew he had due to his clean and well-presented appearance. He continued through the area, meeting up with a tall brooding man accompanied with a crossbow. The two seemed close. Although despite how few words conversed between them, you knew they were. If either of them fell into some trouble the other protected. They were family - maybe not blood - but no doubt in your mind we’re they like brothers.

It had been days now and these men were still on their run. By this time you were even doubting if this was worth it but you shook off the thoughts and continued. It wasn’t your intention to draw attention to yourself. Hell, it was something you were taught against. But it happened. You, rather carelessly, stumbled across them. It all happened so fast. You saw someone in the woods - walker maybe. But at that moment you decided against your inner workings and ran. Stupidly you ran straight into this man.

“Watch it,” He growled pushing you back slightly. They glared at you threateningly, guns were drawn.

“Wha’ ta hell ya doin’?” The crossbowman snapped. His deep southern accent growing darker through his words. He was on edge. It being clear that interactions like this hadn’t always been a blessing.

“Was just passing through. Calm yourself, alrigh’?”

Unimpressed he looked to the blue-eyed man who was fixed on your stance. “You looked in a hurry. Trouble heading this way?” The man inquired warily.

“Nah not really,” You paused looking back to the area, “Well maybe I'm not sure.”

“Not sure? What's back there?” He looked at you suspiciously hand still grasped around his colt python. You didn't say anything to them as a sound overcame the atmosphere. It sounded like a twig, perhaps just a wondering dead but they didn't see the rational side. "Who are you? Who are you with?" The blue-eyed man barked edging the pistol closer to your face.

"Hey, chill man. My names y/n, alright? And I'm not with anyone. I'm on my own, okay?" The men shared a look before turning back to you unbelievingly. You opened your mouth to justify your case but was interrupted by a smack to the side of your head. You fell to the ground, gazing at the two men still.

And then... nothing.

Hours later your eyes snapped open. Alert, you searched through the room. It was a cell. A traditional one with an iron gate. One you knew from past experience weren't the easiest to break out of. Especially after spotting a man floating around the exit. "Hello?" Your head burned as you spoke likely due to a concussion but you powered through it. The man stopped pacing and glared at you. He was a dark-skinned man, holding what looked like a stick. But the main thing was that he was clean. You had noticed earlier how the two men didn't look as ragged and dirty as you did. Telling you they had a home. Now seeing him proved it.

"Hello," He said back, "Names Morgan, yours?" Your rational side shut your mouth for you. You didn't know these people. Hell, they kidnapped you. They didn't deserve your name. And you resented how you caved earlier and told those people. "Not much of a speaker, huh?" Again silence, "You didn't have to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you."

Begrudgingly you responded, "I'm not afraid of you." "Your not?" "No, I'm not. Not of you. Not of those men who brought me here. Not of anyone," Morgan almost laughed at your response.

"You're quite brave, aren’t you?" You shrugged etching a smile on his face, "you'll fit right in here."

"Who says I want to stay?" You countered. "I have a feeling," He smirked before another person entered the room.

"They awake?" Morgan nodded and exited.

The blue-eyed man from earlier entered your view. No words were exchanged between the two of you. You understood he still perceived you as a threat, which you knew you very well could be. You'd do what you have to. That's what you told yourself. After years of service to the army that swam around your mind like a mantra. You'd done some horrific things for your country now and before but you didn't let it rot you to the core like your comrades. You did what you had to. There was never an exception. So if these people decided to try something you'd do what you have to.

"Who are you?" He interrogated swiftly. Telling you that this wasn't his first rodeo. He was a cop or maybe even in the army like you.

"I already told you," Coldly you returned.

"Yeah well, I don't believe you," He persisted.

"I don't entirely know what you want me to do with that," you scoffed, "I can't force you to believe me. But I know my name. I know I'm alone. I know I don't mean to bring harm to your people unless I have to."

The man grunted. He hated how he began to believe you slightly. "Why were you running then?"

You sighed, "I was following you."

"You were following us?" He growled, "Why?"

"You were attacked. Those men I killed them," You revealed, "I was curious. So I followed you. I saw a walker or maybe it was a person... I don't know. I ran and bumped into you. That's all. I have no ulterior motive."

"Just because you tell me you have no ulterior motive doesn't make me inclined to believe you," He let out a harsh breath.

"What more do you want, huh? Want me to do a polygraph?"

He chuckled, "No. Of course not. But I don't trust you."

"So let me go," You promoted.

"I can't do that," he shook his head erratically.

"Why not?"

"You're valuable. If what you say is true that you did save me. Then I... we can't let that go, alright?"

You gaped at his confession, "So you're gonna force me to stay here?"

"Not exactly... we'd prefer if you did from your own will but if we have to," He quirked his eyebrow at you, "What do you say?"

Sarcastically you laughed at his proposition, "You're crazy."

"No, I'm Rick. Rick Grimes. And this," Rick gestured to your surroundings, "is Alexandria. Hopefully your new home."

"How do you know I'm not gonna kill you all in your sleep?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his naivety.

"I have faith that you won't. I searched you when you were out," He went into his pocket pulling out a medal you had gotten for serving in Iraq, "A soldier? I was a sheriffs deputy myself and I know I wouldn't have it in me to kill all the people in here - the children. I know you wouldn't either."

"You're right I wouldn't but... but we're not the same, Rick. We never will be," Rick tilted his head.

"I know," He spoke honestly, "But I feel like we're similar. You'd do a lot to save someone you'd never met. That's someone we'd like in Alexandria. Y/n you saved me. And I know you can save a lot more. So what do you say?"

You sighed moving closer to the cell door, "Okay."

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x gender neutral reader #rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes twd #the walking dead #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead request #the walking dead x reader

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sup-hoes-its-me · 4 years

Text

A Hero (Shinsou x Reader)

A/N: okay so shinsou is such a cool character, kinda relatable tbh, so here we go. Friends to lovers, lots of fluff, cuteness. It took a lot of strength to take a break from writing my fav bakugo lol.

tw: you almost get assaulted

word count: 4400

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three

So technically, Y/N wasn’t related to the Bakugos at all. She was the orphaned child of a family friend, who died a horrific hero’s death when she was only a couple years old. Without any other relatives in the area to adopt her, Y/N’s mother’s best friend took in the two year old, despite the trouble of raising two toddlers being quite daunting. Yet, her quirk wasn’t very dangerous nor special like Katsuki, so she wasn’t hard to manage in that area. Just a shy little girl, confused at the transition after the loss of her parents.

Y/N was never very strong willed like her new family. She was passive, the perfect representation of type B personality. Dependent, reliant, and fearful of adversity. The only reason she was never mercilessly bullied in her primary days was a result of her “brother’s” unrelenting defensiveness. He was an asshole, very much so, but he never let anyone pick fun at the girl. Not only did he kinda, sorta love her unconditionally as a silbing should, but his mother would murder him for not standing up for her.

But when they both got into U.A, suddenly the two weren’t equals anymore, nor would he always be by her side to watch out for her. Y/N was left behind in class C, while he soared into the top hero course. Y/N was support for the soon-to-be pros, not that she minded. The girl knew how weak she was, and unless she had a change of heart and decided to work harder on her quirk, she would never be able to succeed. She wasn’t motivated like those in Class A. Y/N never wanted the responsibility of being so good people relied on her, civilians putting all their faith into her. It was nerve wracking.

On the first day of class, Y/n said goodbye to her parents and walked to class with her brother. He carried both their bags, one on each shoulder, eyes staring straight ahead, brows furrowed with irritation as per usual. She kept her hands clasped behind her back, wandering slowly next to him, head hung.

She was scared, admittedly. This school was huge and so prestigious. How could she ever compare to the others there? It was impossible.

“Stop being such a baby.”

“Katsuki-”

“You’re gonna be fine, and you know it. You’re more powerful than those losers anyway, if only you tried,” he grunted, turning the corner to see dozens of other students in their uniforms walking around and entering the school. She bit her lip and sighed, wringing her fingers out of nervousness. “Seriously, don’t make yourself out to be a weakling. People will target you if you do.”

She paused, not taking another step as she confessed, “I know what I should do, it’s just putting that ideal into practice that gets me everytime.”

Time was running close to class starting, and he rolled his eyes down to her slightly quivering form. Handing her her bag, he told her calmly, “Listen, if anyone bothers you, I’m two doors down anyway. Just call me right after class if something happens, got it?” With a nod, he patted her on the head and walked away to the main entrance.

Her eyes drew up the high building, taking in all the shiny windows and the huge shape of an H made out of the numerous floors. This place was bigger than she had ever imagined, and that only scared her more. Yeah, it was bigger because it housed a lot of students who needed room to exercise their quirks, plus they were a very wealthy institution.

She had to tell herself that just because the building was scary certainly did not mean that the people inside were just as bad.

So she held her head a bit higher and walked through the crowds of students. She tried to remember where the counselor told her her classroom was, so she didn’t embarrass herself by getting lost on her first day.

Yet, that was exactly what she did. The school was just too big, and she was too anxious about her first day to think properly. So, with tears gathering in her eyes, she watched at the time ticked by on the clock. Her nightmares were filled with this scenario. Showing up late on her first day and everyone in the class laughing at her.

“Are you lost?” a voice deep and smooth spoke up behind her, and she jumped a couple inches in the air, placing a hand over her heart after it started to rapidly beat with shock.

She turned her head, brushing her loose hairs from her eyes. He stared down at her with an almost bored expression, just as his voice had sounded. He was tall, and very purple. Dark undereyes, wild violet hair in every direction. She didn’t really know what to think of him other than he was unique, dare she even say attractive in a strange way. He looked older than her, probably 16 or 17 even, based off his height and old soul aura he radiated. One thing she did notice about him though, was he felt gentle, passive and even a bit dismissive. It wasn’t the least bit intimidating, and she relaxed.

“Yeah…” she mumbled, a bit embarrassed.

He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seems we’re in the same boat.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Class 1-C,” he hummed, beginning to walk forward again. She told him meekly that she was going to the same class, and he raised a brow. “Really? What’s your quirk?”

“My quirk is kinda lame.”

A small smile crept at the edge of his lip, her embarrassment and shy attitude amusing him. “And what would that be?”

“Well, it’s kinda weird so don’t make fun of it. I can um- well, my blood is highly basic and burns any skin issue it touches,” the girl mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. Her cheeks burned so much she felt like she had a fever. This is why she never liked to talk about her quirk. It was just plain absurd and kinda disgusting. Every time she used her quirk she had to slice her skin and sprinkle blood everywhere. “But, like, it does so much damage to me to lose blood that often I can rarely use my quirk.”

He nodded. “That’s definitely strange, you’re right,” he stated bluntly, and her heart stopped beating for a moment. “But useful. Really don’t know why you’d be embarrassed about it. Just because you don’t have endurance doesn’t mean strategy and technique can’t make up for that.”

Y/N caught up to him, walking at his side now although his strides were longer and harder to keep up with. She looked up to him, feeling a bit at ease seeing as he wasn’t rude about her quirk. “What’s your quirk?”

He didn’t miss a beat, his gruff voice sounding bitter and angry with his next words, “Something I’d rather not talk about. Don’t want you to spread rumors and lies about me.”

She had never heard someone so visceral about their own quirk. It couldn’t be that terrible, not to mention she wasn’t rude like the people he must have encountered before. She felt a pang in her chest, knowing that this reaction was no doubt from prior experience being hurt.

With a short shake of her head, she replied, “It’s okay, if you don’t tell me, but I wouldn’t judge you for your quirk, and definitely not gossip about it. I don’t have the social skills to do that kind of thing.” She laughed awkwardly. The bell rang overhead, signalling the beginning of the first period. They were officially late. “Oh, crap. We better hurry.”

“For what? We’re already late, doesn’t matter if it’s by a minute or ten.”

“I-I don’t know about that one.”

As they entered the stairwell to head up the stairs, he turned to her and paused, staring into her eyes deeply. She blinked, seeing so much purple looking in her direction. Quickly, she averted her gaze, and tucked her hands behind her back out of nervous habit.

“I’ll tell you about my quirk if you promise me one thing.”

She opened her mouth to agree but then shook her head. Don’t just make promises to strangers, Y/N, so stupid. “Um, depends on the promise.”

He took a deep breath, never taking his eyes off of her own averted ones. Waves of pain radiated from his form, hitting her square in the chest. “Just don’t call me a monster or shit like that.” And that was the moment she felt her entire heart crumble in her chest for this boy she had just met. He expected her to think of him like a monster for something as silly as his quirk? She wanted to cry for him, being as sensitive as she was.

“I promise.”

He started walking up the stairs again, done with his intense observation of her face, except it felt to her like he was examining a portion of her soul, her compassion. It seems he saw something he liked in her.

“My quirk is brainwashing, or mind control, if you want to call it that.”

Her eyes widened at the words, not believing that someone so powerful was right beside her, in the same class as her even. “Like, what do you do?’

“If a person verbally responds to me, I then have complete control over anything they do.”

“That is so sick,” she whispered under her breath, but he still heard her. His brows quirked up, and he gazed down at her.”Sorry, I just think that’s a really amazing quirk.” She smiled sheepishly, her eyes reaching his. He almost had to look away once he saw the sparkle of excitement and admiration in her gaze. Those emotions were directed towards him…

As they walked past a classroom, a loud voice called from inside the room. “Bakugo Y/N and Shinsou Hitoshi. I believe you’re late to my class.”

She rushed into the classroom in front of him and he followed. They conveniently were directed to the back of the classroom, two seats directly next to each other. She took a seat in hers and he slumped down in his, rolling his eyes at the glare the teacher had given him.

He looked over at the girl beside him, who he now knew as Bakugo Y/N. She peeked over at him, and a small smile grew on her soft lips, the bit of sparkle still present in her gaze towards him. He smothered down the urge to smile back, just lifted the corner of his lip in return.

Shinsou wasn’t exactly interested in making friends. He didn’t need them. This girl, though, he wouldn’t mind if she stuck around.

______________________________________

“So, uh, Y/N, do you need someone to walk you home?” Shinsou asked as they shuffled out of the nearly empty classroom save for a few stragglers. “Not that you aren’t capable of walking yourself home, it’s just that-”

“It’s fine. And actually someone already walks home with me, so no.”

He cringed, feeling awkward now. He shouldn’t have been so forward with this impending friendship. They had just met, she probably didn’t want some weirdo knowing where she lived either. “Oh, gotcha.”

“In fact, there he is,” she smiled, waving to a particularly angry blond walking down the hall with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his sagging pants. Shinsou cringed even harder at this point, not expecting her to already have a guy walking her home. She probably didn’t have much room for another good guy friend in her life, he thought, obviously overthinking things. “Katsuki! How was class?”

He frowned, shaking his head. “Deku made a fool of himself as usual, but it wasn’t awful,” the boy replied as his eyes slid from his sister to the daunting guy beside her. “Who’s this?”

“This is my new friend, Shinsou. He helped me find the classroom this morning since we’re in the same class.” Katsuki blinked in surprise, definitely not expecting his shy little sister to already have made a friend. It took her years of middle school just to have a few close acquaintances.

“I gotta get going. My mom is expecting me home soon,” Shinsou told the girl, even if he was lying. He could go home at any time he wanted, he just didn’t want to feel awkward anymore. This guy was obviously close to her, and was giving him the evil eye for a minute now. Possessive much?

“Wait, before you go, let me introduce you to my brother.”

“Brother?’ he asked aloud. They didn’t look alike, like, at all. Nor did their personalities seem to resemble each other in any way.

“This is my brother Katsuki. He’s a class 1-A hot shot.” A pang of relief turned his stomach.

“Yeah, uh, nice to meet you.”

The blond rolled his eyes, gruffly brushing off the purple haired boy’s greeting.“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Y/N, are you ready to go?”

Y/N sighed, waving softly to Shinsou, a smile ever present on her lips when she looked at him. She mouthed as she walked away, ‘sorry’, and he just waved.

Maybe he was a creep for watching her as she left, waiting for her to turn a corner before he let out a breath of air. All he knew was that he felt as if he was sucked in a trance. His heart felt heavy in his chest, as if it were about to explode. The feelings were so foreign but pleasant, some of the best he had ever experienced.

It just felt so good to see someone’s warm smile directed at him, not an ounce of malice behind a guise.

Yeah…He really, really liked her.

_____________________________

The pair were friends. Honestly, Y/N was the only person you could get him to admit, albeit begrudgingly, that she was his friend. They trained together, and he assisted her a lot with her quirk. There were times when they were training alone and she lost too much blood that she would pass out and he would carry her to the infirmary. Time and time again though, teachers told him in private to monitor her. It was unhealthy to constantly lose pints of blood, and she wouldn’t be able to do it on the daily even if she wanted to. Since he and her brother were the only people she truly listened to and appreciated advice from, Shinsou recognized it as a sort of duty to take care of her.

Yet, with a bit more encouragement at the new school from dozens of teachers and other students, she actually improved on her quirk quite a lot. It wasn’t as if she had a useless quirk; it was very powerful in fact. She could burn directly through someone’s skin and the bone if enough blood was spilled. Therefore, the quirk could only be exercised in moderation.

For the first time in his life, someone actually trusted him. Not once did he consider using his quirk on her. Not only was she perfect on her own, but if he betrayed her trust like that, he might lose his closest friend. She was kind, but he wasn’t sure where her limits lied.

“Are you sure you’re okay walking home alone?” he asked his friend, who sat beside him packing up her books. Katsuki was out for the day with the flu, so she would be walking back home alone. He was kinda worried about her. She never walked by herself, always having the protection of her brother.

But she was a strong girl. There was nothing to worry about. He had seen her fight and she was definitely capable. It was just overthinking that sent his anxiety through the roof.

“Yes, I’m totally fine,” she laughed, finding his concern humorous. “You live in the opposite direction. I’m not gonna make you walk me 20 blocks out of your way.”

Although he nodded in understanding, he definitely did not agree. He would walk all over the city for her if she needed him to. Still, when it came time to part ways on the sidewalk, they waved and went in opposite directions. It was only after five excruciatingly long minutes that the lanky boy turned and started walking in the direction of her home. Even though he shouldn’t have, and easily could have texted her, he wanted to make sure she made it home. He knew the general direction of her house, and if he walked moderately fast, he could catch up to her.

So what if she didn’t want him walking an extra 30 minutes? If that made her annoyed, so be it.

Y/N walked slowly down the street as she usually did, her feet tapping lightly against the sidewalk. If she were being honest, she was a bit disappointed in herself for refusing Shinsou’s offer to walk her home. They would have a lot more time to talk in person before the weekend, and she never wanted to miss a beat with him.

Maybe it was stupid of her to be so attached but she thought of him as her best friend, practically the only true one she ever had. Dozens of people came and went from her life, but this friendship felt so special. It would last a long time she thought, and hopefully she was right.

Unfortunately, she was too lost in her own dreamy thoughts to notice someone standing right at the edge of the alley she walked by in a particularly deserted area of town. A hand reached and snatched up her arm swiftly, yanking her into the darkness of the alley and covering her mouth with his other grimey hand before she could make a sound.

Her back hit the cold wall behind her, feeling the rough bricks scratch her shoulder blades through her uniform. Her wrist felt like it was on fire, burning from the harsh grip of the snatcher. Using his knee, he pinned her other hand to the wall at her side, completely immobilizing her. She could have used her quirk, if she was able to produce some sort of blood-pouring injury, only she was trapped.

“Don’t fucking scream, you hear me?”

He removed his hand from her mouth for a moment to reach for his pocket, and as he did so, she let out the loudest scream she possibly could. Just as the sound came from her mouth, a cold object pressed against her throat and her heart stopped beating in her chest from sheer terror.

To think she was a hero in training at U.A., and she couldn’t even defend herself from a quirkless criminal on the street. She felt like crying, feeling a knife against her throat, wrists held down. If only she was just a little smarter or a little stronger; anything to get her out his mess. The air was tense and heavy, and she could barely get a breath in without feeling the bitterness of the blade against her skin.

She prayed, closing her eyes and letting the hot tears drip down her cheeks. If only someone would come and help. All Might was always there to help people, wasn’t he? Where was he? She couldn’t hope for her brother to back her up as he was sick at home, and she definitely couldn’t text Shinsou to come get her. Her phone was tucked safely in her backpack where she couldn’t dream of reaching.

God, she was hopeless.

The thug opened his mouth to say something else no doubt cruel or vulgar, but just as the first syllable fell from his chapped lips, a shocked voice echoed down the alleyway.

“Y/N?”

Her eyes widened at the voice, relief running throughout her entire body.

“Dumb punk, kid, just run off now.”

“No.”

“You don’t want to mess with-”

That reply was all it took for Shinsou to take control. The thug felt all control of his body lost in the air and a sort of tenseness to take over. “Drop the knife,” the student commanded, and the man indeed dropped the rusty knife to the ground, a metallic clang rang out in the darkness. “Now back away.” And so he did.

Tha man sputtered, not knowing what was happening to his body or why he was doing these things. His face turned a bright shade of red and he threw a dirty glare at Shinsou Hitoshi, hating him with every sense of the word for making him look this pathetic.

“Now stand still right there like the piece of shit you are. Move, and I will kill you,” he said calmly. Before turning to Y/N. “I’ll be right back with someone to help. I saw an officer go into the coffee shop across the street.”

When he left, she inched away from the man, watching as he couldn’t do more than just stand there and look completely bewildered. A mind control quirk definitely wasn’t something you see everyday. Plus, he probably was facing the realization that he would be arrested and sent to jail to get his ass kicked by quirk users there.

He came back with a couple officers and pointed out the situation, explaining what he saw when he came to the alley. They asked Y/N for a quick statement and she just reaffirmed what Shinsou had told them and added how she was walking home alone and he grabbed her when no one was looking. And so they took him away, thanking the kids for helping catch the guy, who apparently had tried to assault and rob other women in the area recently.

That was a close call, the closest one she’d ever encountered actually.

As they exited the alleyway, she felt sick to her stomach from what had happened, stress filling up her chest and threatening to burst out in the form of tears, only she composed herself the best she could to be strong. There really was no need to be strong. Shinsou was her friend. He was kind and brave and very intelligent, but most importantly he was kind to her. If she cried, he wouldn’t shame her. But she still felt the pressure to keep them from falling. “Shinsou-”

“I’m so glad I turned around to follow you. I swear, it’s almost like I knew something bad was going to happen, I just knew it,” he mumbled more to himself than her, really. He looked down at her finally, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress. She looked terribly shaken up, but no tears were falling. “Are you okay? Did that guy hurt you or anything?”

“No, nothing else happened,” she told him. “I-I can’t believe you came to save me. I’m so grateful, I don’t even know what to say. I felt so helpless back there without my quirk at disposal.”

“It’s okay. It’s over now, and you’re alright. That’s all I could really hope for.” He looked down the street and then back to her, flashing a weak grin. “You wouldn’t mind if I walked you home from here, would you?” he asked, to which she silently shook her head. So, he began walking and she followed very closely behind, so close that he could feel her arm brushing against his. He figured she was scared enough, a little bit of friendly comfort was going to help her out. She obviously didn’t want to speak, too shocked to say anything much.

After a minute or two of walking, he felt her hand slip its way sneakily into his own, tightly grabbing on as if he was going to yank it away from her. Although he could feel how shaky her hand was, it was so warm and soft against his cold and rough hands. Her fingers fit perfectly between his own. It was sappy of him to think, but jeez, it felt like those hands were meant to interlock. It just felt so fucking good.

He shoved down those selfish feelings. Y/N was just attacked, and he was thinking about how he felt. He shook his head subconsciously, knowing that he was being rude. She was holding his hand because she desperately needed to feel safe and comfortable, not because it necessarily felt nice. She would probably hold the hand of any random dude that saved her like that. Jesus, Shinsou, so dumb. Get a damn grip, you sap.

He squeezed her hand back reassuringly. He wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but he hoped he was helping.

Her house was relatively close to the spot she was grabbed, so it was a short walk. Part of him wished it had been longer so he could have spent more time with her hand held in his. As they stopped at her doorstep, she dropped his hand and went to grab the strap of her bookbag anxiously, eyes hidden from his view.

“Shinsou, thank you for stepping in back there. I really can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate that.”

With a wave of his hand absentmindedly, he brushed off her praise and thanks. “Don’t thank me. Anyone would have done the same, you know.” he didn’t feel like he deserves any thanks. He barely did shit back there except say a few words, and she was thanking him. Anyone would have done the same. He wasn’t special. He wouldn’t be special with the quirk he possessed.

But god, the way she looked at him in that way, adoration and admiration staring into his eyes, completely entranced with him; it made him feel invincible, like he was on top of the world for a lifetime. He would never forget the shine in her beautiful e/c eyes in that moment, he swore it. That was a memory he’d hate to lose.

“I-I know- It’s just that…well…” Her words trailed off into silence before he felt her reach up abruptly to wrap her arms around his shoulders, falling to rest against him. He caught his balance last second, not expecting that of all things. Her head rested snuggly in the meet of his shoulder and neck, hot breath tickling his skin there. He tensed at the sudden embrace, but nevertheless wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her closer. He could feel her shaking once again, and her rapid heartbeat pounded against his quickening one.

“Hitoshi,” she whispered, “You are my hero.”

Shivers ran down his spine at those simple five words, laced together by the most angelic voice he’d heard before.

That took his breath right from his lungs. He was her hero. A real hero. That was all he wanted in his life, to show people that he could be someone’s savior. The feeling of the one person he cared for more than anything saying those words to him. The feeling was unbelievable.

She pulled away after a silent moment, and waved to him gently, taking a step up to the entrance of her house. “I’ll see you on Monday, okay?” she said sheepishly, feeling something weird herself after that hug. Her skin felt all warm and gooey, like she was going to fall apart at any moment or her knees would collapse beneath her.

“Y/N, if you need anything, you know you can call me night or day, I don’t care,” he called after her. “I swear, anything for you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Shinsou-kun.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye.”

“You’ll call me sometime, right? So I can make sure you’re feeling better?”

“If you want.”

“Of course.”

“Okay. I promise I’ll call.”

“Yeah, well, bye then.”

“Yeah, bye-bye.”

She shut the door finally, catching the eye of her brother immediately.

Katsuki stood in the living room of their home, sipping some soup with a spoon, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He raised a brow when she peered over at him, obviously having seen what happened outside through the front window. “What was that about, Y/N? Care to explain why that boy was all over you?”

“Shut up, Katsuki.”

He grunted, rolling his eyes at her reply. “Hey, I’m just worried for you. You can’t trust teenage boys. Take it from me since I am one. ”His voice was quite hoarse from the sore throat he had that morning, and he sounded like a frog whenever he spoke. How could she possibly take him seriously?

“He’s just my friend. You really don’t have to lecture me on anything,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Sure, sure.”

She waved off how annoying he was, and walked down the hall to her room. When she shut the door behind her, she finally felt herself heat up with embarrassment. Shinsou Hitoshi held her hand the whole way home. He saved her like the glorious hero he always wanted to be. The feeling of relief she felt when she heard him enter the alleyway and call for her, it made her heart melt. She would definitely take up his offer and call him over the weekend, just to hear his soothing voice in her ear. Just hearing him, or even thinking about him made a smile grow on her cheeks.

She wasn’t sure what she felt for him. If it was simply a friendship or if her attachments were growing into something more.

Y/N just really, really liked him.

_____________

Part two coming later this week. Should it be angst or fluff? I’m torn

#bnha shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero #my hero academia #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha oneshot #bnha imagines #mha imagine #mha oneshot #shinsou oneshot #shinsou hitoshi x you #reader insert #x reader

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

Harringrove April Day 16- Nostalgia

On just about every flat surface in their mansion, Steve’s mother had put out some fancy Tiffany light fixture.

Steve’s room was the only place in the whole house he got to have any day in the interior design, and his lamp, well it didn’t quite have a stained glass shade, or ornate detailing to fancy up the mansion, his happens to be an old nursery lamp from when he was six and still had a themed bedroom.

At the peak of his too cool for school teenager bullshit, he’d attempted to throw it out, sent it away to the curb with a bag of stuffed animals he claimed he didn’t need anymore, but the very same night he started having nightmares again, so he scrambled to get it back before the raccoons found it first.

That dusty old lamp had saved him from countless nights spent awake and terrified, and he wasn’t one to say he was ashamed of that.

Except, now Billy Hargrove, the pinnacle of badass, is in his room, and there it is, still plugged in on the nightstand.

Of all things too, it couldn’t have just been a generic race car lamp or something he could play off as not really being for kids, it had to be stupid Bambi.

There’s a story behind it, that when he was a toddler, his first venture out of Indiana was to go see his gramma over in Maryland, and, after one look at his big brown eyes and his fluffy brown hair, she immediately nicknamed him Bambi.

After that the name just sort of stuck with him, his parents using it when they wanted on his good side, to make up for forgetting his birthday, or as an apology for leaving him alone so long the babysitter left, so of course his mom thought it would be adorable if his bedroom was themed around it.

Somewhere in a dusty corner of the attic, he still had the curtains and the quilt and the wall hangings, and under his bed was a pillow embroidered with his name and a picture of the clumsy cartoon deer made by his gramma. And of course, there was the brightly shining lamp.

He would never admit that he kept them there for when he was at his most frightened, clutching the pillow to his chest during a nightmare, or wrapping the soft material of the tiny old quilt around his shoulders when he felt an imaginary pair of eyes watching him.

Because Steve had seen some shit, he felt that after witnessing a ten-foot tall faceless monster come through the ceiling and try to kill him, and having a herd of baby versions of that same monster charge at him with nothing but a baseball bat to protect himself and a group of defenseless children, he had earned the right to use a damn nursery lamp in his bedroom.

But, that ass-backwards swell of pride at still using his childhood comfort items at 19 years old is definitely crushed by the fact that, after being in his room for a grand total of five minutes, that’s immediately what Billy drifts to.

A drunken apology at a New Year’s party might have made up for the concussion and proved he was probably not going to beat his face in again, but it didn’t change the fact that he was in Steve’s bedroom with the edge of the printed lampshade pinched between his fingers, and a contemplative look on his face.

It was a little while after their truce was reached, that Billy just started showing up at the Harringtons’ door unannounced. Sometimes it was to borrow Steve’s first aid kit. Sometimes he’d steal some of his weed. Once he’d come over just to watch something on Steve’s TV. Whatever his reason, Steve had let him in every time.

In this particular instance, it had been Steve who had called Billy, because he had a math project and an essay due first thing tomorrow morning, and Nancy was too busy to help him.

At first he’d considered just not getting the work done, but he decided Billy would do. He was smart enough that the co-ed teacher in the math class they shared had begged him to switch to the advanced classes, so Steve figured his help wouldn’t be so bad.

But his desk where all of his school stuff is is upstairs in his bedroom, where he’s left out the dumb baby lamp, and of course that would be exactly what Billy goes straight for. Steve feels himself start to panic a little, unsure if he could trust Billy’s reaction, and convincing himself that Billy might beat his ass for being a fragile little fairy or something.

It never comes, Billy just sits down all casual on the bed next to Steve, pulling one of his legs up so he could cross it over his knee, and nods over at the lamp again. “Wish I still had something from when I was little.”

The weight of the entire universe is lifted from Steve’s chest, knowing that Billy isn’t going to tear his head off. He lets out a sharp breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “Yeah?”

Billy nods and looks down, fidgeting with the pendant he always wore around his neck. “My dad threw everything out. All I have is one little picture of my mom.”

Steve knew he lived with his step-mom, but had never even thought about what happened to Billy’s real mother. He realizes the pendant was probably a locket, the very one that holds the aforementioned picture, and asks “Can I see it?”

It looks like Billy has to think about it, as he keeps twisting the locket between his fingers, before he nods and opens it. Steve leans towards him, putting his hand up under it and holding it in his palm, straining to see the tiny, aged picture.

Even though he’s never seen this woman, it makes Steve incredibly sad, seeing her little face all worn out in that locket around her son's neck. He wonders if she was dead, or if maybe she’d lost custody for some reason, or if maybe she had just left, but whatever happened, when his eyes flicker back up to Billy’s face, the tears shining in his eyes and the way he avoids his gaze, he knows better than to ask.

Steve lets the locket fall and watches Billy snap it shut quickly, and he realizes he has no idea what the right thing to say is.

What he wants to say is that he’s sorry, for him losing his mother and having nothing but one yellowed and tear stained picture to remember her by, but that seems too much like prying, somehow not really appropriate.

Instead, he remembers what Billy said about his dad throwing his stuff out and says, “Your dad must be a real asshole, huh?”

Billy scoffs and blinks away the last of the tears in his eyes. “You’ve got no idea, Harrington.” There’s a long awkward pause, until Billy asks, “You know how I’m always coming over here with like, all kinds of shit wrong with me?”

Steve thinks he knows where this was going. “Sure.”

Chewing on the corner of his nail, Billy takes a moment to get his thoughts together, his eyes flitting nervously across the room, focusing on pretty much anything but Steve, mostly the picture frame behind him. “I lied. It’s not, like, fights or whatever I say. At least not with other kids.”

Steve himself was no stranger to conversations like these, he himself had to confess something of a similar calibre to Nancy, when they were still dating, because his father had come home from a business trip pissed off about something, and slapped him across the face just a little too hard. The sturdy silver ring that he wore on his middle finger had split the skin on Steve’s cheek, and he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to cover his tracks.

Admitting to it out loud was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, so he decides he won’t make Billy say it. Maybe they weren’t on the best of terms, only here to do homework or whatever, but if he was going to open up about this, he definitely wasn’t going to make him experience that same humiliation he had.

“Is it your dad? That does that to you?” Nancy hadn’t been kind enough to spare him, forcing him to tell her once that the scar he so proudly sported wasn’t actually from a fist fight with Tommy like he said, and he wouldn’t do the same to Billy.

In lieu of a response though, Billy sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his hands starting to shake ever so subtly, and Steve knows he’s got to keep pressing. “Do you need help? I can call the chief-“

“No.” Billy shakes his head and makes eye contact with Steve for the first time since he started talking. “Cops only make it worse.”

Steve could understand that, had tried once when he was about eight or so, with the assistance of one of the housekeepers, to call the police when his father twisted his arm so far behind his back his shoulder popped out of place, but they wouldn’t dare arrest a public figure like his father, especially not for a little corporal punishment. The first thing they’d asked was what Steve had done wrong, not why his father had felt it fitting to beat on his eight year old for a tiny mistake. He never asked for help again.

“Well is there anything I can do?” Despite their differences and the fact that he only called him here to cheat on his homework, he truly did want to help Billy. Something about repeatedly surviving horrific monster attacks made him a lot more protective of those around him, and now that they were over their dumb pissing contest, Billy was included in that too.

“Think you’ve done enough letting me into your mansion, unless that’s not good enough for your hero complex.” It was a pathetic jab, there was no bite behind his broken tone, and Steve would almost rather have him at his worst than see him so vulnerable and sad.

Steve tries to reason with him softly, “You know it’s not like that, Billy.”

“Do I?” Walls had been put up as Billy made his last ditch efforts to protect himself from being weak in front of Steve. “Cause where I’m sitting, it seems like you get off on charity cases like mine. You tryin to swoop in and save me, King Steve? Feed your ego so you can feel like the savior you were always meant to be?”

He was baiting him, trying to pick a fight so he’d push him away, Steve had seen it all before in himself and wouldn’t fall for it. “Listen. I just want to help you.”

Everything about Billy suddenly seemed to make a whole lot more sense. That whole part animal, tough guy thing was just an act, and Steve knew because he had done essentially the same thing.

Before Nancy Wheeler had taught him to be better, he and Billy really weren’t so different. He’d let high school bullshit bother him, beat up the nerds and fucked all the cheerleaders and mocked anyone lower than him on the social ladder like he was supposed to, but it always made him feel off.

In the end, it had been so easy to get him to the other side, to show him what to do instead, he supposed all he needed was a little push to help him actualize what he already believed.

And then it hits him, in that moment, that this was Billy’s push in the right direction. That he was Billy’s Nancy.

“I don’t expect you to tell me everything and I’m not doing this for me, just,” It became extremely important to him to not set Billy off, to say just the right thing to keep him on the right track. “my door is always open, Billy.”

At first, it seemed to have worked, Billy sat staring at the floor, his lip quivering as he mulled over Steve’s words, but, when he stood abruptly and snatched his leather jacket from where it was draped over the back of Steve’s desk chair, Steve knows he messed up.

“Where are you going?” He stands up fast enough to give himself a head rush while Billy shrugs his jacket back on and yanks the door open.

“Need a smoke.” That’s all he gets before the door slammed in his face, and he hears Billy's heavy boots stomping down the stairs and the sound of him slamming his front door.

He waits with bated breath and tears pricking the corners of his eyes for the sound of Billy’s car starting and tearing out of his driveway, but it never comes.

Still, he feels immensely guilty and selfish and stupid as all hell for not just biting his tongue. He should’ve just fought back, argued with him like was expecting him to instead of trying to be comforting like he was his fucking therapist or something.

Because this was Billy fucking Hargrove, stereotypical meat head bully. Why he even felt the need to help him, other than their similar upbringings and coping mechanisms, or the fact that Billy had obviously been reaching out, hoping for someone to care, was beyond him. Or maybe it really wasn’t, he knew exactly why, he just felt weak and stupid for trying, and especially so for failing.

Apparently he’d been so caught up in his little pity party that he missed the sound of the door opening back up, and didn’t notice Billy had come back until his bedroom door was open.

Steve was so relieved that Billy came back, that he hadn’t pushed him too far or fucked everything up, even if he reeked of too strong cigarettes, and growled at him when he came in, “Don’t we got fucking work to do, Harrington?”

They don’t end up finishing the essay. Steve was hopeless with numbers, and they were too busy goofing off, so the math project didn't get done very quickly. It was okay though, Billy wasn’t much help at all when it came to English anyways.

Steve walks him outside when he has to go, beating a curfew of midnight. He stops on the porch, immediately crossing his arms against the frigid cold of the night air. Billy stops too at his car, his fingers through the handle, and turns around, calling across the yard. “Hey Harrington?”

He hardly waits for Steve’s response, a quick “Yeah?” to tell him, “Thank you.”

There isn’t time for Steve to respond before Billy’s yanking open the door of his Camaro and backing out of the driveway, but he knows he’d still made astronomical progress tonight.

It makes him feel incredibly dumb, laying in his bed that night, illuminated by the warm light of that very same Bambi lamp and trying to put his thoughts of Billy to rest like he was some cheesy teenage girl, but he’s just happy to have found a friend, to have made a difference in somebody’s life, and he knows that on the other side of town, laying in own bed with his locket left open on the pillow beside him, Billy feels the same way.

#harringrove #harringroveapril #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #ej writer #story by ej!#love how I had something completely different planned but ran out of time and had to dig in my drafts for this fic #and it still took me forever to edit it

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bro-strider-hate-blog · 3 years

Note

YOUR TAGS ON MY SIS POST??? IMMACULATE

I will include my tags again but only because i cant get enough of myself and not to sound like im tooting my own kazoo but this is the one time in my entire life that ive been objectively correct in every way

Lengthy and unrelated thing under the cut:

Let me talk about canon bro for a second 😌 even though its barely and tangentially related to this and you dont have to read it <3, in fact i would encourage you not to read it i just wanna run my mouth. People love to use him as a cheap villain in their dave angst fics which is like... hilarious to me. Like i get it, since hes abusive he must also be misogynistic and homophobic and transphobic and also genuinely hates dave and revels in his suffering right? Lmeow no, hes just some guy and despite everything he is in fact trying his best. Hes naturally intense and aggressive and this doesnt translate well to child rearing, especially since his one goal is to make dave strong enough (physically and mentally) to Survive whats coming. The random sneak attacks ? The traps littered around the house ? To keep dave on his toes and buff his spatial awareness. The cameras ? To monitor his progress (if hes not up to standard then we’ll just up the “training”) and / or film some puppet snuff (puff ? Snupp?) so he can keep running his dumb website and like provide for them or some shit , or ig to buy random crap and throw it around the house. Who cares if the kid sees the porn anyway its just puppets, plus hes seen way worse at that age and turned out fine (no he didnt). Dave has to be resourceful , he has to be creative and think on his feet , lets have impromptu rap battles and scrabble games. He has to know numbers like the back of his hand (idk why this is even a phrase do any of you memorise what the back of your hands looks like) to effectively utilise his sylladex.... actually nobody even uses that shit idk why bro was so insistent on it. Dave is his protege, his charge, dave is NOT his friend and hes not gonna let him forget that. He teaches him all he knows, in the way he knows. Making comics, mixing music, ironic jokes, being cool and getting shit done. Actually its GOOD that the kid is terrified of him, if hes the scariest thing in the room then dave wont fear anything else. Lets spar then, if dave wins then hes trained him well. If dave loses then hell become resilient. Either way he has to be strong or else hell die, training is necessary. Its either this or failure and failure equals death. Do your own laundry, ration your own food, become independent as fast as possible because i wont be around to take care of you forever

Nothing bro does is without reason, neither is it “sadism”, its all very logical to him despite being horrific to any sane person because his only friend is the mansplain-manipulate-manspread puppet that raised him and he has awful coping mechanisms that barely stretch past beating himself 1. up 2. off. Like he kept his baby alive to the point where it could keep itself alive (kind of alive) and thats a win to him.

That was my thesis on why bro is not a bigot like ,, he makes porn of fucking smuppets, that gives him zero chance to fetishize The Ladies. I doubt he has porno mags littered around the house its just endless plushie dicks and asses (and the two puppets handcuffed together were legit kinda funny like Why). So why would dave have internalised homophobia if it did not stem from his brother ??? Acting as if his only friends werent exuding anti gay vibes, like christ, john “im not a homosexual” egbert, him and rose’s competitive flirting gag (before they found out they were related >.>), just generally the three of them accusing each other of being gay, yknow, as kids do (jade is exempt from the argument we love jade here). Things were just more homophobic back then and its not like bro and dave had a sincere talk about gender and sexuality in the 13 or so years they lived in the same house like why would you even come out to your younger sibling if you could just not !!! Lol !!! I could be getting all this info wrong lol so correct me if im wrong but bro has this cute comic artstyle and it was about someones charge (? Sibling?) straight up dying and the saw guy makes an appearance the end , like there was no sex or gore or whatever but if you look at sbahj the second page literally has an incest sex joke like where does dave even get his material from , which online sites has he been trawling , well haha its not bros job to monitor his kids search history lets ignore it and move on if the kid wants to be gross and make dumb jokes who is he to judge , spread your problematic wings and soar into the cancel clouds little guy

Anyway heres a disclaimer: if youre gonna clown on this post and tell me im an abuse apologist or some shit just understand that i have a lot of free time and love being a huge asshole when provoked but like youre so welcome to add to the discussion i love bullying my favourite character bro strider by steamrolling him we’ve talked about trans rights for too long now is the time for trans wrongs

#//1 #sorry for airing my grieviances on your ask addie Q_Q i hope you do not mind </3 #Bro strider #sometimes i do want bastard trans rep like we cant all be purrfect #Heres more bastard trans guys in homestuck: eridan cronus sollux karkat equius gamzee caliborn hal

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

Note

The guys from Death Mark reacting to their SO getting cursed (make it as angsty as you want have fun)

Ahh, let’s see, let’s see...I will have Yashiki, Mashita, Daimon and Shou, I guess x

~~~~

Yashiki Kazuo

Oh, no no no, not again! Not you, out of all people, not YOU!

Yashiki has terrible PTSD from all the ghosts he encountered, all the anxiety and adrenaline he had surging through his veins, and all the terribly heart-breaking stories that he had the misfortune to find out, so you randomly getting the Mark will affect him the most.

He will be absolutely heart broken seeing the mark on your body, and the desperate fright pooling in your eyes, he would have done anything to swap places and have that mark on himself, and you to be safe and sound.

Yashiki would be a chaotic mess and would call all of the people he helped, to help him back, so you would definitely live, without any ounce of doubt.

He knew very well the hopelessness of accidentally destroying a ghost, instead of purifying it, and thus, having someone die before his very eyes, but you will be the exception.

No matter what, he will NOT let you die.

He will go to the ends of the world, getting himself in life-threatening danger, against both real people, and the supernatural, just to ensure your safety above all else.

He won’t rest even for a second until the ghost is done for, and when it disappears, he will run to you, rapidly taking away the piece of clothing covering your Death Mark, only to pull you into a crushing hug and will start sobbing, finally relieved that you are okay.

After this whole ordeal is all over, he will get overprotective over you and will, subtly or not, check out every inch of your skin to make sure you don’t get the Mark again, and he isn’t there to save you.

Not to mention, he will have nightmares again, and will wake up in a cold sweat because of it, and the only thing that would sooth him would be hugging you, and having the lights on.

Mashita Satoru

You are kidding, right?

You must be kidding.

There’s no way in hell you’d have the Death Mark, that shit is long gone, and there’s no way you would have it too.

But...The way you drew the design on your skin...So perfectly...And it wouldn’t come out...

What kind of stupid sorcery is this?!

He will be in a bit of a denial at first, only to get violent and punch a hole into a wall ( if it’s a false wall, obviously ) , then will go out on the balcony and smoke a whole pack of cigarettes in one go to get himself in check, before going back to you and pulling you into a tight hug, one hand on the back of your head, the other on your back, and telling you that everything will be okay.

He already went again so many ghosts, what’s one more? And with the help of Yashiki, he’s unstoppable.

He couldn’t protect his mentor from being killed by the Cult, but he won’t make the same mistake again - He will protect you, even if it costs him his life.

Mashita knows he’s absolute shit at expressing himself and his feelings verbally, but at least through actions, he will make sure you know damn well he loves you to the moon and back, and nothing can stay between you and him.

He won’t even remember that he’s afraid of ghosts a little bit, or that could easily kill him any time - He’s just focused on saving you.

But gosh, he’d be a nightmare, especially with Yashiki - He’ll order him around, be more verbally aggressive, and will find any way to vent out his anger and frustrations if even the tiniest thing doesn’t go according to his plan.

By the end of it all, he will almost suggest the two of you get Yashiki to move in so he will make sure at least one person is there with you at all times...But he quickly dismisses that thought anyway, and will want to be the only knight in white-...Well, maybe more like a non-conventional Sherlock Holmes surrounded in an aura of cigarette smoke, but he will still protect you just as well, nonetheless.

“The thing you do with your own hands are the ones best done” is his motto.

For the first time since you’ve known him, he will decide to confess everything that’s happened in his life, and why he’s always so bitter towards the world, and how you are the only light in his life and would rather off himself than knowing you fell prey to those stupid ghosts.

You almost thought you dreamt it, but better remember what you witnessed that night, it will be the only night of vulnerability you will see from him.

Daimon Shuuji

Internally panics so hard that you thought his brain had a short circuit...Or he died on his feet.

His eyes look dead, straight into your eyes, but he doesn’t sketch any emotions...Nor does he move a muscle...Not even a single twitch.

You’d wave your hand in front of his face trying to catch any ocular movement, and even got the flashlight, and nothing.

Is he really not dead, though?

You started gradually worrying more and more, until you hear a faint, but really pained, “Fuck”, which shocked you beyond belief, since Daimon NEVER cursed around you.

He won’t even realise he said that, and would grab you and would start staring at your mark with a frown, having flashbacks of what happened when it happened to him.

Terrible time, would not recommend, 0/10 review.

Sighing, he took out his phone and contacted the Masquerade Squad, Yashiki, Mashita and Hiroo to help him out with this mess, since he knows very well he can’t do it all alone, but at least he’s thankful he can help sooth your worries and make sure you’re alright until they properly solve the ghostly mystery.

You know very well that his sickly predisposition usually makes him lethargic and cranky, enough to get a terrible reputation for the way he delivers news to his patients, but now, it’s like he’s a completely different person - So tender and gentle, only words of comfort and reassurance.

Daimon would cling on you like a baby sloth to his mother, as a way to keep you around him and make sure you don’t somehow disappear from him, just like how Hiroo got possessed while being alone, back at the Love Hotel, and then was set into a coma until those two purified the ghost.

After you’re all set and done, he will call his hospital and tell them that he needs a 1 month vacation, then talk to your employer for the same thing, and will get you to some nice resort, to relax and forget that such a horrific event ever happened in your life.

He will have a period of time during the beginning of your holiday when he’ll outright deny the existence of your Mark and that you virtually almost died, but then he saw that it was affecting you negatively, and decided to open up his heart and have a proper talk to you and explain everything that happened, why it happened, how he met everyone, his ghostly encounters.

He will admit to being scared out of his wits’ end and the fear of losing you kinda messed him up a bit.

Daimon knows very well that his health is failing, and if you were to die before him, it would crush him without fail, and there would be no remedy to mend his broken heart.

Nagashima Shou

Outright panic mode intensified by 100.

Would shriek and fall on the ground seeing the Mark on your skin.

What did you do? Where did you go? How did it happen? Do you still have all your memories intact? Do you remember who he is? Do you remember who you are?

Will pace in a circle around you, pulling at his hair and cursing constantly, forgetting that you are there for a second, before taking you by the shoulders and shaking you, his eyes glistering with tears as he desperately says that he won’t let you die, and will make sure the best ghost hunters will solve this issue, and -

- And will completely neglect to explain to you what the hell is going on, and really, you’re just super confused at everything going on and don’t understand the gravity of the situation, but will let him do as he pleases, even letting him take you with him on his motorbike to this big and ominous Mansion where a bunch of people were ready to help with this issue, but they all failed to explain what is going on.

In the end, you just kept treating it like some silly game, despite seeing the fright emanating from Shou, so you’d hold his hand and reassure him that everything will go fine.

You never believed in ghost, but shit, when you saw the monstruosity in front of you, all you could do was stare at it with your jaw dropped to the floor, shock and horror overwhelming the previous confusion, as you clinged on his jacket and tried to keep your composure.

When one of the detectives yelled at you to run away, he picked you up and breezed out of the haunted place, far away, until he got to the car, which is when he started panting and hugging you tightly, muttering “You will be alright” over and over again, almost as if to convince himself that.

All the time until Yashiki and Mashita came out of the haunted house, Shou held you tightly, almost to the point of depriving you of the much needed oxygen your lungs needed, and as soon as he spots them, he takes a look at your Mark, only to see it gone, then he clashes his lips on yours, so relieved that you were finally okay and all the drama was over for good.

When you return home, you make him a cup of hot chocolate and sit him down so he would finally explain to you properly - What the hell just happened - And it was only then that he realised he never told you about his own adventure with the Death Mark, nor did he explain that you were on the verge of death just now, so he feels really stupid, but laughs it off and says he was just too worried.

Shou will become just a bit more grateful to have you in his life, realising how short life can be, and how things work in weird ways, which will make him cherish and treasure you even more than he already did, if that’s even possible.

#death mark #death mark imagine #death mark x reader #yashiki kazuo #mashita satoru #daimon shuuji #nagashima shou #yashiki kazuo x reader #yashiki kazuo imagine #mashita satoru x reader #mashita satoru imagine #daimon shuuji x reader #daimon shuuji imagine #nagashima shou x reader #nagashima shou imagine #death mark yashiki #death mark mashita #death mark daimon #death mark shou

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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years

Text

One step forward, two steps back (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! OPEN HEART IS BACK! CAN YOU HEAR ME CRYING. That chapter killed me and filled me with so much ideas and will to write that... damn, PB, well done. It's the first diamond scene with a bit (a lot) of changes and it's from Ethan's perspective cause that's what I do I guess.

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22992799

Tag list: @paleweasels , @lilyofchoices , @hopelessromantic1352, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @cassiusownsmyass, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h Enjoy! <3

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He could list about five reasons for which he went to Donahue’s that night. All of which were irrelevant, and he knew it damn well. He just came back, he should be sleeping, he should be home with his dog. He should be staying away from Edenbrook.

He should be staying away from her.

Lying would get him nowhere. If he didn’t believe himself, why should anyone else? People that didn’t know him thought it was very noble of him to sacrifice two months of his life to help people in the Amazon, and he would only nod slightly to avoid talking, because he knew that the second he opened his mouth, truth would fly out. Deep down, in the middle of the night when he was alone with himself and his thoughts, he knew that the only reason he went away, the only reason he decided to help all those people, as bad as it sounded, was to put as much distance between Claire and himself as he could. It wasn’t noble. It wasn’t admirable. It was cowardice that led him to his decision, and he felt ashamed.

Reggie looked surprised only for a split second upon seeing him walking through the door, but that was substituted with a wide grin as he greeted his old friend. Ethan couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something unusually smug in the way his friend was smiling at him. Like he knew something Ethan didn’t and he was impossibly proud of that.

“You have that weird glint in your eye and I’m pretty sure you’re up to something.” He searched Reggie’s face for any crack that would reveal what was happening, but he gave away nothing.

“You’ve been away from civilization for too long and you’re seeing things, Ramsey.” He cackled, slapping his hand against Ethan’s shoulder blade, then went back behind the bar. “The weather is nice, you should sit outside.”

He followed the advice, sinking back into his own mind. He did that quite often lately, an escape from the horrific images that would haunt him for years to come. The only problem was, the second he closed his eyes to take a deep breath and ground himself with something, she was there. He ran away to forget about the feelings that swelled in his chest, that threatened to overflow and drown him, and yet every time he paid attention to his thoughts, she came right back to him. He got better at ignoring her over the weeks, and now, he only thought of her a couple of times during the day, save it for the countless nights with her as the main character in his dreams.

He wondered, from time to time, if he would ever get over her. If he would ever leave behind the pull that he felt every time he so much as thought of her. If he would ever forget the feeling of her lips against his. Forget the feeling of her body pressed against him, wrapped around him, moving against him. Her laugh rang in his ears, her voice followed him wherever he went, and he was ready for the torture to be over and not able to get enough of her at the same time.

It was late in the night, and the bar wasn’t as packed as he expected. People talked, music flew from the speakers and the air was significantly colder than he remembered it to be before he left Boston. The moment he took a step outside into the beer garden, he knew why Reggie was so smug. The reason was right there.

He heard her. He saw her.

Hushed voices flew in the air and suddenly five pairs of eyes were locked on him, observing him with curiosity in most cases. Only one pair of eyes was different. The green filled with surprise, confusion and underlying pain that he knew damn well he caused and that stung him more than he expected.

He knew this would happen eventually. Sooner or later, he would come face to face with her and would have to see how much his plan worked. In an ideal world, he would be cured of her and would be able to work with her like two colleagues that they were. But this wasn’t a perfect world, and they were only people.

And he still gave a damn about her.

The only way to the other side of the bar was to pass by their table, and he knew he had to at least greet her, even if only to keep appearances up. Nothing was amiss, nothing was wrong, just a bunch of Doctors that had a free evening and ran into each other.

Which was very obviously a lie and everyone, including Ethan, knew that. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

Their eyes meet for the first time in two months and he knows, right in that moment, that he’s still a goner. He’s still so tangled with her, so lost in her that the chances of saving him were slim and getting smaller every moment that passed. He could feel his throat closing, breathing got hard and the back of his eyes stung when he realized that he might as well fall apart right there, in front of everybody. He had to get this over with and get away from people. Try to get away from her.

Again.

Clearing his throat to at least try to regain some control over his voice, he hesitated before speaking. “… Rookie.”

Her eyes flash with familiarity and her lips curl into the smile that knows so well. His heartbeat accelerated like it always did, and, like always, it drove him mad. “It’s good to have you back, Dr. Ramsey.”

She probably didn’t mean to poke him with his title, to remind him what their situation was. She definitely wasn’t aware of why he went away, and why he dreaded coming back almost as much as he anticipated seeing her again, despite how much he tried to deny it. Her face didn’t give anything away, but he knew her well enough to notice a shadow pass her eyes, revealing that she caught onto something in him that didn’t add up.

“Yeah… good to be back.” He muttered, his gaze still locked with hers, even though he knew he should severe the eye contact before it gets suspicious. Hesitation takes over his mind as he argues with himself. Finally, he shakes his head slightly, blinks twice and breathes deeply. “Doctors. Enjoy your night.”

Leaving the group behind, leaving Claire behind, he walked back to Reggie, his expression fixed into a careful scowl. He saw him and as soon as he connected the dots, he started laughing. Ethan fell into the seat by the bar, his fingers drumming against the flat surface restlessly.

“She really got you, that Claire of yours.” Reggie mused, stating the fact rather than asking, and one look at his friend confirmed it.

“She’s not my Claire… she’s not mine.” he clarified, and it nearly broke him. His friend nodded, then grinned at him again.

“Oh, I know. But wouldn’t you like her to be.”

“I-“ he trailed off, nursing the drink that Reggie placed in front of him, opting for talking with him instead. There was too much to unpack, too much to explain when it came to Claire, so the prospect of a simple, not complicated conversation seemed like heaven to him.

Further down the bar, he saw Dr. Thorne. He saw enough to know that the man was a scumbag that didn’t deserve to be touched with a stick, but he was a good doctor, and while he didn’t agree with him outside of the hospital, in the work environment, he had to endure his presence. It seemed as though he found himself a new victim that night, because the girl he was talking to looked uncomfortable and, if he had to guess, was getting angry with every word that Garrett spoke and that Ethan couldn’t hear. His hand touched her back and suddenly she grabbed it and slammed it onto the bar, the crack resounding in the air. A scream followed and the plastic surgeon shoved her onto the ground, the sound of the glass breaking reaching his ears. Ethan shot up to go help the girl, when a blonde woman stepped between them, holding her hands up to shield herself from any incoming punches.

“Hey! Easy!” she spoke up, loud and clear, her voice steady. Claire looked at Dr. Thorne like she was about to murder that man on the spot, and Ethan didn’t like how his mind reacted when he realized how close to getting punched she got. He started walking towards the commotion, more and more words reaching his ears.

“… charges! Do you know how much I’m going to sue that bitch for?” he exclaimed, waving his good hand around.

“Garrett. That’s enough.” He heard his own voice, seething with anger, dangerously low. Claire’s eyes shot straight to him, surprise flashing in them, followed by a tender sliver that warmed the green of her irises. He turned away from her and scowled at their colleague, his hands curling into fists. “You still got one good hand, don’t you? Put it to good use and call yourself a cab.”

“I don’t give a shit what you think, Ramsey. You think you can tell me what to do? You get lost, come back and think you call the shots around here?” Garrett sneered, spiting the words in Ethan’s face. He had to stop his hand that itched to punch some sense into his thick skull. In his peripheral vision he could see Claire grabbing grain alcohol and a clean rag, then running out the door to chase the girl.

“If you think you can be an asshole cause you have lines of people that give their faces into your hands, think again. I don’t care what goes on in that stuck-up head of yours, you acting like a scumbag doesn’t do right by me.” Ethan kept his voice low, fully aware of all the other doctors that they both worked with, now having their attention focused on the two of them. “Get your things and call yourself a cab before I decide I no longer care and take care of you myself.”

“I’m so scared of you I’m about to cry. As I said, I don’t give a shit what you say. You can boss around that bitch of yours but I’m not your lapdog, Ramsey.” Garrett sneered, a cruel smirk crossing his features. Ethan felt his blood boil as he heard him disrespect Claire and it took all his self-control not to beat him till he was black and blue. He did the next right thing, grabbing him by the lapel of his jacket and dragging him outside. He waved down a cab, his grip on the man vicelike.

“You’re so disgusting, I’m not even going to dignify you with a response. You treat women like trash, you’ll be lucky if no one presses charges.” He opened the door of the car, threw him in and sent him off with a look of disgust. “Get your shit together.”

He slammed the door, putting a barrier between him and Garrett, and finally taking a breath. He never liked the man, and now all he felt when he looked at him was utter disgust. He walked back in and saw Claire already inside, explaining the situation to her friends. His gaze lingered on her for only a moment before he walked to the bar and took a seat. He could very dimly hear Reggie calling out to his customers that he was about to close and that they needed to leave.

“What? Last call doesn’t apply to you?” he heard her voice, calling out to him from the other side of the bar. He let the silence ring between them for a split second before answering, keeping his eyes on the glass in his hand.

“Reggie and I go way back. We have an arrangement.”

“An arrangement? Is that what you call a friendship?” her voice was filled with warmth and he didn’t have to look at her to know that she was smiling. He allowed himself to smile too.

“I don’t have friends. But…” he didn’t think his next words through. “… I wouldn’t mind you joining me if you were so inclined.”

He definitely didn’t think this through.

He let his guard down and he was sure that there would be hell to pay. What was he even thinking? He should be staying away from her, not drawing her in.

She told her friends she would stay behind and talk to him about tomorrow. And he was sure she meant that, just not in a way that was safe for both of them. It sounded simple, and yet it had danger written all over it, because there was no way of knowing how much his self-control could take before he breaks again. He felt her more than he saw her, sitting down in a seat next to him by the bar.

“Rook- er, Claire. Sorry. Force of habit.” He bit his tongue, the nickname lighting a familiar warmth in his chest before he realized that she’s not a Rookie anymore. She’s a resident now. His colleague. And he is her boss.

They were so screwed.

She ran her eyes along the lines of his body, taking in his new clothes, nodding her head towards the jacket. “We’ve got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey.”

“This jacket’s been through a lot with me.” he mused, running his thumb along the seam of his sleeve.

“I have to say, that jacket is nice. It’s good to see a more laid-back side of you. You seem more… relaxed. You can mix it up with that sweater of yours. I liked it, it was soft to touch…” she trailed off, biting her lip as she looked down, the meaning obvious and clear. He cleared his throat, shaking his head.

“Duly noted. And the beard?” he probed her for answers, subconsciously trying to find out what she preferred. He realized what he was doing only after he asked the second question, and he could hope that she didn’t catch onto that, but her smirk was enough to tell him that she knew. And she enjoyed it.

“It’s a bit too long, but I like it.” she mused, her fingers flying to his jaw and tracing the line of it with the tips of her fingers. Her nails scraped against his skin slightly and the shiver that ran all over his body almost ended him, right then and there.

“I’ve gotten used to it. I can trim it, I suppose.” He wondered out loud and she grinned, her cheeks rising. They watched as the last of people left the bar, leaving only them and Reggie. Ethan looked around them, and then turned to her with an idea.

“Why don’t we move outside? It’ll be winter before we know it. Might as well enjoy the weather while we can. Want something to drink?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” She nodded towards his glass and he grinned, the situation bringing back the memories.

He reached over the bar, grabbing the half-drunk bottle of scotch. Ethan called out to Reggie to let him know that they’re borrowing it. He knew his friend long enough to know that he wouldn’t mind.

Claire walked alongside him, both of them silent, taking in the peace and tranquility of the beer garden. He sat down by the fire pit, ensuring they were both warm, looking at the flames, climbing up in the air. She took a place next to him, their bodies pressed against one another slightly, just enough for them to feel each other’s heat. His breath caught in his throat, his pupils dilating as he felt the soft scent of her perfume.

“I can see why you like it here.” She muttered, watching the lights flicker above them. He grinned, knowing that his prediction was right and that she liked it too.

“Because nobody’s annoying me?”

“More or less. It’s peaceful.”

Silence covered them like a thick blanket, and maybe in the past he would find some comfort in it, but now, it felt suffocating. There once was a time when he was so comfortable with her that nothing else had ever felt this easy. Those times were behind them, but damn him, how he wanted to go back in time.

“So. This Dr. Thorne guy. Should I be worried about him?” she asked, leaning onto the table to while looking at him. He knew why she asked. After the trial she went through last year, he expected her to be cautious. She learned her lesson the hard way, but then again, so did he. They were the same, in that and many more ways. That’s why he restrained himself from punching Thorne. Nash was a problem enough, and Garrett was the same type of an asshole. No matter how much he wanted to beat him up for what he said and did, he knew that he shouldn’t.

“He has some influence. Just stay out of his way for a couple of weeks and he’ll entirely forget who you are.” He advised, mirroring the way she rested her head on her palm, making their eyes meet.

“But not who you are. Should you be worried?” she sounded almost like she was worried about him, and almost immediately he knew that she most likely thought it was her fault he had to get involved.

“I’ve worked too hard to get where I am to give a damn what someone like him thinks.” He scoffed, his blood boiling as he recalled what happened just thirty minutes ago. Knowing she had no way of knowing what went down, he moved on. “Don’t think twice about that asshole. What you did back there, helping that girl? You did the right thing. That’s all that matters.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“Hrm. Well, it should be.” He stated, then felt a wave of pensiveness washed over him, making his entire body ache. “You’re too young to be a cynic like me.”

“I’m not being cynical. I just learned my lesson. You saw what happened last year. I almost lost my license for breaking the rules to help Mrs. Martinez.” Pain twisted her features, she curled her fingers inwards, digging her nails into her palms. He saw her do it multiple times in the past, but never saw it from up close, and now that he had her hands only inches from his own eyes, he could see crescent marks in a line across her palms. His hands itched to reach out to her, to run his fingers along her skin, to kiss her scars away, knowing painfully well that he couldn’t.

“The lesson there is that if you put patients first, you’ll always be vindicated in the end. That’s the lesson. What you did just now was brave. You’ve always been brave in the face of the disaster and death, of course…” he trailed off, thinking back to how much death and pain she had to see and how much of a toll it took on her. “But it’s different when you’re facing down a superior. To stand up to them for what’s right.”

She smiled brightly, nudging him with her hand slightly. “It’s not as brave as venturing into the depths of the Amazon to fight an epidemic, that’s for sure.”

That felt like a knife, pushed into his chest up to the hilt, and when she smiled at him again, the knife got twisted. He knew damn well why he left, and it had nothing to do with bravery. She probably admired him for it, and he was about to shatter that image of himself in her eyes. Looking back down at his drink, he managed to choke out. “… That wasn’t bravery.”

Surrounded by the air that was getting colder by the minute and the country tune that flowed slowly from the jukebox, he could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she tried to decipher what he meant by that.

“Ethan…” she breathed shakily, sitting up straighter, trying to seem like she had it all together. She didn’t, he could see right through her. He recognized all the symptoms of falling apart, and he knew them so well because he’s been through it all. Actually, that was a lie.

For the past two months, his life has been nothing but a series of symptoms of longing and pain.

“Why didn’t you keep in touch?” she only needed to ask one question, and he was no longer able to survive what was about to happen. She was hurt, she felt abandoned, and she wanted answers. Hoping she wouldn’t ask was stupid of him, he should have thought this through, should have thought about what to tell her, but maybe it was for the best. She deserved the truth, and truth was what she was going to get.

“No word from you at all for two months? After everything that happened between us?” her voice got smaller and smaller until it was nothing but a whisper. She was at her most vulnerable, scared to be hurt, even though she knew what was coming. They both did.

“Everything that happened between us is exactly why I didn’t contact you.” he admitted, trying to keep himself as steady as he could, but failed. His façade crumbled into a million pieces and it was futile to try and pick them up. “Claire, if we’re going to work together on the diagnostics team, we need a fresh start. Your professional development is too important to jeopardize it whatever…” his voice caught in his throat, his jaw impossibly tense. “… whatever it was that we had.”

“’Had’, past tense.”

“Yes. And the past is where it has to remain.” Ethan’s resolve was a sliver away from breaking and he was grasping at the strings, trying desperately to not let himself fall. To not pull her along with him. telling her that they couldn’t be together hurt him beyond belief, more than he ever thought could be possible. They were looking at each other, seeing right into each other’s souls, the moment stretching into eternity.

It seemed to him like it was a split-second decision when she dove forward and pressed her lips to his. Softly, gently, perfectly.

He felt the air being pushed out of his lungs, his body burning with flames so hot he felt like dying. And maybe he was. His muscles tensed, his whole form stiffed, and yet he tingled from his feet to the top of his head. Feeling him not reacting, she began leaning away, when he woke up, broke free from the confinements and reached for her like a drowning man.

His hands caught her waist gently, barely touching her as though he was afraid she would break if he squeezed too tightly. Afraid to come closer, but afraid to let her go. Scared to push her away, wanting to pull her in. His lips moved against hers slowly, his eyes falling shut once more. He couldn’t count how many times he dreamed of kissing her, of having her in his arms, and now that he did, he was torn.

She’s the one to lean away, looking into his eyes for any indication of what he wanted. He poured all the want, longing and pain into his gaze, seeing it reflected back at him in her green irises. “Dammit, Claire…”

He’s said that to her before, in a situation much like this one. He pulled her back to him then, kissed her like he wanted nothing more in the world than her. He still did. But their situation was more complicated now.

“If you don’t want to kiss me again, then just tell me-“ he never wanted anything more. He probably never will.

“It has nothing to do with ‘want’. I can’t. And if I give a damn about you, I won’t. How am I supposed to push you to be everything you can be if I…”

There it was. Again. He didn’t know what he meant by that back in Miami, but he was a different man now. She was a different woman. They were a different couple. Now he knew, even if only deeply inside.

If I care for you.

“If you what?” she asks, much like she did back on that night, and he still couldn’t bring himself to give her the answer. That much hasn’t changed. He knew that the moment he tells her she’s in his head and in his heart, she would never leave, and they couldn’t allow themselves that much freedom. Freedom to live, freedom to feel, freedom to love.

He looked at her as though he could pass his thoughts to her through their eyes. How easy that would be, if he could just let her into his minds and let her see all that she was to him. His teeth gnaw at the corner of his lip, fighting with himself, struggling to look away from her until he succeeds. Hanging his head low, he burns his stare into his drink, praying that she understands.

“Okay, I get it. Goodnight, Dr. Ramsey.” She whispered, then turned to go. He watched her, gritting his teeth, pushing himself down into his seat, anchoring himself so he doesn’t jump and run after her. Once she disappears behind the door, he takes a swig of his drink, shaking his head somberly.

“You really are an idiot.” Reggie’s voice rang behind his back, his hand falling heavily onto his shoulder.

“I know.”

“You really should go after her.”

He didn’t say anything. He wanted to, god, he wanted to. “After all that I told her, she would push me away. And I wouldn’t blame her.”

“She won’t push you away. You didn’t see her face when she walked out of the bar. Follow her.”

Ethan’s eyes locked with Reggie’s and he knew he was right. It was cold, knowing her she walked home and it was late. Against his better judgement, against what he decided and what he knew was right, he shot to his feet, threw a ‘goodbye’ to Reggie and ran, faster than ever before in his life.

He busted out of the bar onto the street, looking around to try and find her. Not that surprised that she was nowhere to be seen, he set off in the direction of her apartment, and eventually, he saw her, walking slowly. He called out for her and she stopped dead in her tracks, turning towards him slowly.

“Ethan? Is everything okay? You’re out of breath… you’re not being chased by a murderer, are you?” she ran her eyes over him, taking in his condition, the way his hair was swept to the back, the way his jacket was crooked and his chest moved up and down rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath.

“I’m… okay… I just...” he panted, taking a deep breath before looking at her again. “… I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

Her eyebrow shot up in surprise, then melted gently into a sweet smile. “I’m fine… you can walk with me if you want to make sure I’m okay, though.”

He knew he shouldn’t, he knew he should just turn around and walk away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He almost reached out and took her hand, but instead opted for a smile that he could only hope came out as friendly. Her laugh rang in his ears.

“You’re still terrible at pretending.”

They walked and he asked questions. About the life at the hospital when he was gone. About Naveen’s recovery, which she supervised along with Harper while he was away. About his patients, some of which she had under her care.

“Mr. Dursi laughed when he saw me walk into his room. He just woke up and he was convinced that I was you. Kept muttering how he could swear that you were a man, but he didn’t really mind. It took me solid twenty minutes and a photo of you to convince him.” Claire recalled, laughing until she cried, drying her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“You must have had a hard time finding a photo of me.”

“Not really. I mean, I have a couple on my phone-“ she shrugged, then cut off in the middle of the sentence, knowing fully well that she had no way of going back on her words. “I- uh…”

“It’s okay, I have some photos of you too.” Ethan’s confession hung between them, settling into her mind. He would never admit that when his loneliness in the Amazon got too much for him and he was breaking, he looked at her. Despite what he tried to tell himself, despite how much he tried to extinguish his feelings for her, it seemed as though it was impossible.

A chilly breeze blew around them, biting into his flesh. He looked over to her, just in time to see her shiver. On instinct, he took his jacket off and stopped her, turning her towards him.

“Give me your hands.” He nudged her arms, pointing to his jacket. She shook her head, beginning to protest. “I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, Claire. You’re cold, I’ll be damned if I let you be cold.”

She held his stare, trying to determine if he was bluffing, but she knew he was serious. His look of certainty and resolve told her that if she didn’t allow him to help her put his jacket on, he would wrap her in it. With a heavy sigh, she put her arms through the sleeves and snuggled into the material, still warm from the heat of his body. Still smelling like him.

Ethan tried to make it seem like the sight of his clothes on her didn’t make him come undone, but the truth was, if he could, he would forbid her from wearing anything but his clothes. It felt good, it felt right, and the thought of them maybe never having the comfort of being that close to each other again hurt his mind, body and soul.

Her apartment building came into the view much sooner than he would have liked. They could be just Claire and Ethan while their walk lasted, but the moment they say goodbye and he lets her go, they go back to square one. The only difference is, he already knows how it feels to have her, and it’s going to be a million times more difficult to pretend like he doesn’t. Their walk slowed to a stop and she turned to him, somber look on her face.

“That’s it I guess.” She muttered, looking up at the window of her apartment. Her friends must have been back already, they all had an early morning the following day. His eyes traced the lines of her face gently and he took a step towards her, placing his hand on her shoulder gently.

“It seems like it.”

Claire turned her body towards him and right into his unexpecting arms. Her grip on him began as a soothing breeze and gained intensity as seconds ticked by. He gathered her into his embrace, holding her closer than he had in months, and he felt his body relax. She was like a drug to him, and he was addicted. Her scent that he missed, that he familiarized with a sense of safety and home, her voice that could stop the biggest tempest in his mind. Her touch that lit up a fire in his veins, made him fell invincible. Just like he felt right now.

He took a step forward, she took a step back. And another. And another, until they reached the side of the building, hidden away from the street in an alleyway, lit only by a dim light. Her head rose slightly to look at him, their eyes met and not even a fracture of a second later, their lips were back on each other.

Claire took a deep breath upon the feel of the kiss, her knees suddenly too weak to hold her up. She gripped his shoulders, her nails scraping the skin at the base of his neck, making him tremble. The kiss was different from the one they shared earlier that evening. That one was cautious, almost empty, lacking the fire that he longed to feel again, that he wanted to get burned by.

This one was everything. It had the drive, it had the power, it had the intensity of a thousand lightnings, striking him at the same time. The hunger he felt could only be satiated by her, by her kisses, by her lingering touches, by the way she held him close. His hands slipped under the jacket that hung loosely from her shoulders, his fingers curling around her waist and pulling her impossibly closer.

She trailed her hand up his neck, tangling into his neck and pulling on the strands, eliciting a low growl in the back of his throat. His body pushed on hers, pressing her against the wall, letting his lips leave hers so he could assault the skin of her neck. She breathed heavily, pushing her other hand downwards and grasping the thin material of his shirt, her grasp so tight she could tear the fabric apart.

Ethan nipped at her collarbone, causing her to arch her back against him with a moan. “Go inside.” He breathed against her skin, his shoulders moving heavily beneath her persistent touch. Coming back to her lips, he kissed her again, harder, faster, the intensity kicking the air out of his lungs.

“What?” she panted, pulling him right back to her, her hands snaking down his back and digging into the back pockets of his jeans, pushing him onto her. He groaned helplessly, grabbing her face with his hands and pulling their faces as close as humanly possible.

“Go inside.” He bit her lower lip, pulling on it and then soothing it with his tongue, growling impatiently. She squeezed his backside with her hands, causing his breath to falter and his grip to loosen for a moment before he adjusted his hold on her.

“Why?” He dug his fingers into her back, a cry falling from her lips, both of them definitely louder than they should be. Leaning back to make their eyes meet, he let her see the desire, the lust that threatened to consume him at any moment.

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to rip your clothes off your body and take you, right here and right now.” he looked at her seriously, taking a moment to catch his breath. His body dove forward before stopping, barely inches away from her, his eyes dropping to her lips, watching them eagerly. “And god, don’t I want to.”

“I want that too.” Claire confessed, retreating her hands back up his body and placing them along the sides of his face, mirroring his hold on her. The heat was gone, only tenderness and softness left. They caressed each other, eyes glossy and filled to the brim with emotions.

“I know. But we can’t. So, get inside.” It hurt him even more than the first time when he had to say that to her, and he could see her breaking a bit more with every breath she took. Unable to stop himself, he kissed her delicately, holding onto the moment for as long as he could before, at last, letting her go and taking a step back. She kept his gaze for just one moment more, then nodded and went back out onto the street, leaving Ethan alone in the darkness.

#ethan ramsey #open heart #choices #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #mc x ethan ramsey #dr ethan x mc #ethan x mc #mc x ethan #playchoices #open heart fanfiction #fanfiction #fic

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amythedvdhoarder · 4 years

Text

The Plan

Pairing: Bucky x reader, Sneaky Sam

For the Flex Your Muscles Writing Challenge set up by @captain-rogers-beard

17th of June prompt: Sultry

Word count: 1.8K

Summary: Sam has a plan but will you and Bucky fall for it?

Warnings: Swearing, jealousy and fluff

Authors notes: GIF not mine. Todays is a little bit longer but hope you enjoy it. Thanks to everyone reading and commenting etc. Please let me know what you think, feedback is always welcome x

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“This is definitely going to work” said Sam excitedly. “He is absolutely mad about her” Nat interrupted “She is crazy about him too” They grinned at each other. “They both just don’t realise it yet. But they will” Sam chuckled. It had taken some planning but with a little help from everyone on the team, they were going to make it happen.

Sam walked into your room just as you checked over your appearance in the full-length mirror. “Holy shit Y/N, you look gorgeous.” You turned around and frowned at him. The black satin dress that Nat had forced you to wear made you feel a little exposed. It had a modest neckline, but the barely there feel of the material and the dangerously high split up your left leg made you feel like you were wearing a nightdress. It’s not as if you hid your figure, but leggings and a hoodie were more your thing. Wearing such a flimsy dress in front of the hundreds of people Tony had invited didn’t seem appealing right now. “Do you not think this is a bit much?” you gestured, waving your hands down your body. Wanda had styled your hair in a half up half down manner, it was elegant but paired with the makeup it made you feel too on show. You had drawn the line at the lash extensions only just accepting the dark eyeliner and the red lipstick she had insisted on. “Y/N, I mean it there isn’t a man in there that will be able to take their eyes off you.” You closed your eyes briefly at the horrific thought. You didn’t care about all the men, just one.

“Can you help me do my tie up?” Sam had moved closer to you brandishing the burgundy garment at you. You reached out the for the fabric and lifted his collar, just as you were beginning to do it up a voice distracted you. “Hey” Sam placed his hands gently on your hips and leaned around you to look at the voice from the door, you turned to look over your shoulder; Sam’s tie still in your hands and your bodies in close proximity. There was a flash of a camera and a giggle. Wanda grinned and sent a wink in your direction but was gone before you could even say anything. You turned back to Sam as he arms fell back to his sides. “What was all that about?” you asked, very confused at what had just happened. Sam shrugged, and looked up trying to hide his smirk. This was definitely going to work.

Sam wondered off after you had done up his tie and told you he would catch you at the party. He went straight to Wanda’s room. “How’s it look?” Wanda held up her phone and showed Same the sultry snap of the pair of you. “That’s perfect. Send it over now.” Sam’s phone pinged as the message arrived, he quickly unlocked his phone and set to work. “If this doesn’t make Bucky realise how he feels then nothing will.” Sam had formed a close bond with Bucky, despite their constant arguing, they both looked out for each other and secretly enjoyed each other’s company. Sam had realised when Bucky stopped going out on dates all the time that he must have found someone he liked. It didn’t take him long to figure out it was you. Sam saw the way Bucky looked at you when he thought no one was watching, the way that he smiled every time you laughed at something. Hell, Bucky had started getting you to sit near him at dinner, movie nights and even on the way to missions. But Bucky hadn’t told you how he felt. According to Nat and Wanda you were just has head over heels as Bucky but neither of you seemed willing to make the first move. Enter Sam and the rest of the team.

Bucky was stood at the bar, not that he could get drunk but it was a place to stay out of the way. He hated these things, the noise, the amount of people and the fact that this party was happening instead of movie night. That had become his favourite night of the week because he could be close to you without people getting suspicious. He would always sit next to you and steal glances at your reactions during the film and sometimes, when you were scared, you would bury your face in his chest. It was the exact reason that all his recent picks had been horror films, he wasn’t particularly bothered about watching the film but just used them as an excuse to hold you close to him when you were frightened. “Hey man” Sam interrupted Bucky’s thoughts. His phone was on the top of the bar as Sam helped himself to a drink. Just as Bucky was about to greet his friend, the screen flashed up with a text from Nat. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. Sam’s lock screen was the photo that Wanda had taken of you. Bucky felt the jealousy flood through his body. Bucky looked at the way the dress you were wearing hugged your figure, your eyes the picture of innocence. The photo would have been perfect if one thing was changed. If he was the one with his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. Not Sam. Bucky slammed his drink down on the counter and skulked towards where Steve was. Sam picked up his phone and slipped it into his pocket. Step 1 complete.

Step 2 started when you arrived with Wanda and Nat. Your eyes began to search the room for one particular set of blue eyes, when you found them they were already focussed on you. You smiled at Bucky from across the room and noticed his jaw clench before he turned away from you. What an earth was wrong with Bucky? You headed to the bar in search of a drink. Nat left you and Wanda and headed over to where the boys were chatting. She placed her arm around Bucky’s shoulders and giggled at whatever story he was telling. You gulped down your drink in a hope to smother the jealousy stirring within you. Bucky glanced up at you again and this time it was your turn to look away. You needed a distraction. It wasn’t difficult to find one. Sam had been right about one thing, you were definitely attracting a lot of attention. Your feet were hurting from dancing so much, you weren’t really enjoying yourself. Neither was Bucky for that matter, he didn’t know why Nat was being so clingy. But what was really getting to him was you, or rather not having you. He hadn’t told Sam about his feeling for you but through he had made his interest in you obvious enough. But that photo, what did it mean? He had to find out. Just as he had plucked up the courage to ask you for the next dance, Sam approached you and Bucky grabbed at his drink in an attempt to calm down.

The music was slow and you had your arms linked around Sam’s neck and his hands were on your waist as you swayed in time to the music. Sam leaned closer to your and started to whisper something, but then a glass smashed in the distance. You pulled away from Sam quickly and saw that Bucky was glaring at the two of you, crushed glass at his feet and his metal hand dripping with whatever had been in his glass. Nat quickly started fussing over him. “I need some air” you murmured quietly at Sam and headed out for the terrace.

“Buck what the hell?” Steve walked towards his friend. “Nothing” Bucky growled in response. “I think he’s jealous” Sam sauntered over with an amused twinkle in his eyes, Step 3 now executed. Sam ignored the murderous look from Bucky and carried on “You know man, you should just ask her out.” Bucky’s jaw fell open. “But I thought you and Y/N? The photo?” he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “All part of the plan” Sam chuckled. Bucky closed his eyes and thought through the night. Nat had been all over him which wasn’t like her and Sam had been all over you. They were trying to make you both jealous. They had set you up.

Bucky turned his back on the others and wandered out to the terrace to find you, his heart racing. He stepped out into the cool night air and saw you looking out over the city, your back turned towards him. Bucky ran his hands through his hair cleared his throat. You turned to face him immediately. “Bucky, what you doing out here? I thought you would be with Nat.” He noticed the sadness in your voice. He stepped closer. “No, I wanted to find you.” Bucky was now so close that you could feel the heat radiating off him. His thumb ran across your lower lip and his fingers tilted your chin up so that your eyes were now locked with his. “Y/N the team seem to think that I have feelings for you and you have feelings for me. Is that true? Do you have feelings for me?” You broke away from his gaze and nodded, his hand still resting on your face. “Doll, look at me.” The moment your eyes met his, he lowered his mouth to yours and captured you lips in a tender kiss. “I love you Y/N” he whispered against your lips. The kiss deepened then, the months of longing and desire consumed you both. When you finally pulled apart you were out of breath. “Bucky, I love you too.”

Neither of you had wanted to go inside yet, you didn’t want this moment to end. You shivered involuntarily and Bucky draped his jacket over your shoulders and then pulled you closer to him. He ran through what they others had done during the party. It all made sense now, Sam asking you to do his tie, Wanda’s photo, Nat hanging around Bucky and of course Sam dancing with you. You placed you head against Bucky’s shoulder and he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your head. “Urghh get a room” Sam had appeared on the terrace. Bucky growled and threw a small pebble at him. Sam took the hint and scarpered away quickly. “You have to admit it, their plan worked Buck. Maybe we shouldn’t be too mad?” His took your hand in his, lacing his fingers with yours. “You’re right. But let’s not tell them that just yet.” He said pulling you into another kiss.

Taglist is open so let me know if you want in

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18, @buckys-plums3, @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht

#flex your writing muscles challenge #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky fluff #marvel fanfics #marvel #avengers #writing challenge #sam wilson #natasha romanoff

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

secret keeper (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: secret keeper Rating: PG Length: 2220 Warnings: Fluff Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. This is just some family fluff, no warnings! Summary: Javier is not very good at keeping secrets.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow@hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501@fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04

“You’re in a good mood today,” Javier remarked as he loosened his tie and moved to greet you at the stove. He rested his hand against your still-flat stomach, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

You were in a good mood — mostly because it was mid-December and you hadn’t experienced any of the horrific nausea you had with Josie. The smell of tamales cooking didn’t even make you grimace like it used to when you were pregnant before.

But you were also in a good mood, just so you could lull Javier into a false sense of security, because you had words to have with him.

“I got a nap in mid-day and I kept down everything I ate.” You told him as you pulled the tamales out of the stockpot, laying them out on the towel by the stove.

You had even made one of his favorite dishes.

“Can I help?” Javier questioned, resting his hands on your shoulders and giving them three little squeezes.

“Can you get the applesauce out of the fridge for her?” You questioned, peeling each tamales out of the corn husk. You had finally perfected your recipe, the masa pulled away from the husk just perfectly.

“You don’t think she’ll want to try the tamales?” Javi questioned as he grabbed the applesauce for you. As you walked away from the stove, he grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the pan of chicken nuggets out.

“If the option is between tamales and chicken, which do you think she’s going to want?”

“We should’ve bought stock in chicken.” Javier rolled his eyes and shook his head, moving to grab a plate to fix for Josie.

He must’ve known you were annoyed with him because he was being too helpful. Sure, he pulled his weight around the condo, but he was being too pointed about it tonight.

“How was work?”

“Good.” Javier answered, picking up a piece of masa that was stuck to a husk and popping it into his mouth. “I’ve got a mountain of papers to grade this weekend. Remind me again why I assigned an 8-page paper to a class of sixty.”

“I can help.” You offered with an easy smile. “I happen to know a thing or two about the subject.”

“You’d do that for me, baby?” You nodded as he gave your ass a playful swat, “I’m gonna get the kid.” He pressed a quick kiss to your temple, before vanishing down the hallway.

He knew exactly what he’d done, but he was definitely going to make you bring it up. Bastard.

Josie broke her daddy’s heart by refusing to even try the tamales. She was far more content with applesauce and chicken nuggets, despite Javi’s repeated attempts to lure her into trying a tamale. Every time she’d turn her nose up and tell him that he was being silly.

You waited until Javier had gotten Josie to sleep and you were both comfortably curled up on the sofa watching a rerun of NYPD Blue to finally spring your annoyance onto him.

“Javi.” You said quietly, turning to look at him.

“Yeah, baby?” He questioned as he curled his arm around your waist and stroked his hand over your stomach.

“I know what you did.”

Javier blinked. “What?”

“You told Steve.”

“Now, wait a minute—“

“I told you we were going to wait.” You widened your eyes dramatically at him.

Javier dragged his hand over his face and sighed. “I fucking knew this was coming. You were being too sweet.”

“I’m always sweet.”

“As sweet as a lemon.” Javier countered and gave you a look. “In my defense he guessed.”

“Did he?”

“He did.” He tilted his head forward to rest against your shoulder. “I told him not to tell anyone.”

“He told Connie.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Javier sighed, “And they wonder why we told no one about Joise.” He pulled you into his side, “I’m sorry baby. I really am.”

“I’m just scared.” You admitted, covering his hand with your own as he smoothed his fingers over your stomach. “I want to tell everyone, but I want to be in the clear.”

He kissed the top of your head and sighed, “I know.” Javier shifted back so he could look at you. “I really didn’t mean to let it slip out,” He rocked his jaw. “He asked how things were going. They knew we were trying. My fucking face betrayed me.”

You reached up and cupped his cheek, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. You traced your thumb along the curve of his jaw, where scruff was starting to grow in, “You also told the Dean of Sociology.”

Javier groaned, “He wanted to know why I cancelled class. How the fuck—“

“He sent a congratulations card.” You told him, lifting his arm so you could get off the sofa. You had tucked the card into the TV Guide by the television. You pulled it out, brandishing it like evidence. “I can’t even be mad. But who else have you told?”

Javier rubbed the back of his neck and sank back on the sofa. “Steve, the Dean, the barista on campus, some science professor at a meeting, my class…”

“Javi!”

“I’m excited!” He laughed, grinning at you. “Do you see now how hard it was for me with Josie?”

“I’m truly shocked you’ve ever kept a secret.” You quipped as you shook your head. “I just don’t want to jinx this.” You rested your hand on your stomach, brows furrowed. “Everything’s going so well so far and I just worry that something will go wrong.”

“Maybe we’ve just lucked out.” Javier patted the sofa beside him, “Maybe after all the struggle with Josie we get to just enjoy a nice smooth pregnancy.”

You settled back down beside him, stretching your feet out in front of you and resting them on the coffee table.

Javier reached over and peeled the hem of your shirt up, resting his hand against your bare skin. “I think you’re starting to show, just a little.” He stated as he stared at your stomach. It was a faint change, the subtlest curve.

“They’re about the size of a kidney bean,” You told him, resting your hand over his. “It’s so different this time.”

“It is,” Javier drew soft circles with his fingers as he shifted closer to you. “I’m sorry I told people.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m just so fucking excited.”

“I know you are.” You smiled at him, turning your face so you could kiss him, your lips brushing against his. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He bumped his nose against yours, before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach. “And I love you, little bean.”

You laughed, pushing your fingers through his hair as he showered your stomach with kisses. “Is that what we’re going to call them?”

“You said they’re the size of a kidney bean.” He pointed out, sitting back against the sofa. “I think little bean is a good nickname.”

“Your daddy wants to call you little legume.” You teased as you rested your hand on your stomach, grinning at Javier.

“Mommy?”

Shit.

You pulled your shirt down and sat up straight, “Hey babydoll, what’s wrong?”

“I had a nightmare.” Josie pouted as she climbed over the side of the sofa and Javier was quick to sweep her into his arms before she had the chance to climb over your stomach.

“C’mere princessa.” Javier pressed a kiss to the top of her curly head, pulling her into his chest. “You want to stay out here with us?” He questioned, giving you a look over the top of her head.

“Do you want some hot chocolate, sweetie?” You questioned, reaching over to give her little hand a squeeze. “It’ll chase all your bad dream monsters away.”

Josie nodded and smiled at you, before she quietly spoke. “Mommy, do you have a baby in your tummy?”

You had wanted to wait — just a little longer — to have this conversation with her. After all the months of trying, you were so hesitant to get attached to this. Just in case. But she had heard you and Javier talking clearly, and you weren’t a fan of lying to her.

“Well,” You swallowed thickly and met Javier’s eyes, “Yes, sweetheart. There is a baby in my tummy.” Your hand went to your stomach and you sighed softly. “But it’s really tiny right now.”

“But it's growing?” She questioned, curling her hand around Javier’s fingers as she leaned against his chest.

Javier rested his chin on the top of her head. “It is, sweetheart. You might get to become a big sister for your birthday next year.”

“Wow!” She pulled away from Javier and moved towards you. “Hot chocolate, mama?”

You laughed, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “Of course.” You gave Javier a look as you started to get up.

“You’ve gotta love where her priorities are.”

“Well, she is your daughter.” You quipped with a chuckle. “You’re pretty motivated by food yourself.” You had learned that about him pretty early on. “I guess we can start telling people.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You nodded as you moved around the kitchen to fix her hot chocolate. “I’m sure Lisa and Tripp would like to hear that we’ve had success.” You sprinkled a little cinnamon into the hot cocoa mix, before you poured the warm milk into the sippy cup. “But let’s avoid Tracy and Jeff for as long as possible.”

“I might’ve already casually mentioned it to Tripp.”

“Javier!” You turned around and stared at him as he peaked over the back of the sofa. “You are a terrible secret keeper!” You laughed, shaking your head. “How did you ever keep your mouth shut with her?”

“A man can be easily motivated by the fear of losing the woman he loves.” Javier answered and your heart clenched. With each passing year it was getting harder to remember just how difficult things had been back then. The delicate balance of feigning disinterest and keeping distance. The way you lived for moments where your hands brushed while exchanging files or you rode the elevator with him. You took for granted the fact that he was in your bed every night now, forgetting the days you’d lay awake wishing he’d be there beside you. That he’d been there the first time Josie kicked.

“You wouldn’t have lost me, Javi. I probably would’ve been pissed for a minute, but… I love you and I have for a long time.” You told him as you walked back over to the sofa to give Josie her sippy cup of hot chocolate. “You are so sleepy, aren’t you?”

Josie pursed her lips and nodded dramatically as she took the cup from you and sank back against Javi as she sipped at it. “I stay up with you?”

Javier’s brows rose upwards, looking to you for the answer. You knew his answer would be that she could stay up and do whatever she wanted. But her sleepy little pout was just as hard to say no to for you as it was for him.

“Of course, sweetheart. But how about we go to bed?” You smiled at her. “The big bed is much more comfortable.”

Josie clung to Javier as he picked her up and carried her back to your bedroom. You shut off the TV and turned off the lights before following after them.

“Let’s not spill that in bed, princessa” Javier warned her as she tossed her sippy cup aside and he carefully sat it on the bedside table. She flopped back onto the bed, right in the middle — wiggling around like a little girl who was fighting off sleep.

You pulled back the covers and laid down on your side of the bed, laughing as Josie did a full roll so she could get closer to you. “Hi, baby.” You laughed, pushing her hair off her face as she giggled. “You’re being silly, aren’t you?”

“No! You’re silly!” She reached up and tickled your chin. Josie squinted, scrunching up her little face as she sat up and peered at the underside of your jaw.

“What are you doing, Josie?” Javier questioned as he rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow.

“Looking for butter.”

You laughed, “Butter?”

Josie nodded emphatically. “You don’t like butter.”

“Baby, she’s talking about the buttercups.”

“Oh!” You caught Josie’s hand and kissed her palms. “You were so little then.”

She giggled, poking at your face. “Does daddy like butter?” She questioned.

“We’re not going to be able to know until we find us some buttercups.” You told her, grinning at Javier. “We can go to the park tomorrow and look for some.” Even though you knew there weren’t any in bloom right now, she’d atleast enjoy the promise of an adventure. “Think you can spare an hour or two from grading, Professor?”

Javi rolled his eyes. “For my girls? Always.”

You gestured to your stomach, “Hey, this one might not be a girl.”

Javier snorted, shaking his head. “For my family then.”

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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chickensarentcheap · 3 years

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 19

Title: Control

Warnings: profanity

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip, @miss-smutty, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007

“What the fuck is she doing here?”

They converse in harsh whispers as they seek refuge in the pantry. Using the excuse of wanting to prepare food and drink for their unwanted and unwelcome guests and then leaving them in the living room. They’ve been bickering back and forth for half an hour; arguing about the Sarge’s appreciation and approval of chosen furniture and decor and Michelle’s distaste of the ‘mix mash’ of colours and themes on the Christmas tree. Her voice is enough to drive Tyler over the edge. The way it picks up in both pitch and volume when she’s vehemently defending even the most pointless or ridiculous of things, the Midwestern twang that becomes stronger and more noticeable the more annoyed she becomes, the constant tinge of self righteousness and condescension. She’s the classic narcissistic; infamous for her staggering gift of gaslighting and her ability to make herself seem like the victim despite being the quintessential bully and walking definition of ‘mommy dearest’. Through the five years they’d spent in Colorado, he’d tried his best to ‘mend fences’; extending the olive branch a handful of times in hopes of helping to both repair the relationship between mother and daughter, and create a bond between Michelle and her grandchildren.

They HAD reached a somewhat peaceful agreement; she’d attempt to tone down her hatred towards him and at least try and treat her daughter like a fully functioning adult instead of a hopeless, hapless child. But it had lasted all of three weeks; his involvement with Michael McMann and the subsequent threats against his family only caused the woman’s spite and hatred for him to grow. After that, she’d vowed to never forgive him for putting her daughter and grandkids in danger, and double downed on her belief that he ‘stole’ Esme away and somehow bullied and intimidated her into not only marrying him and giving him children, but returning to Australia. She refused to accept any responsibility for either her daughter’s struggles with mental illness or her horrible self esteem, and placed the blame solely on Esme’s shoulders; calling her weak and pathetic and insisting that she had married a horrifically abusive man and was simply too scared to leave him. He WAS a mercenary after all; he brutalized and killed people for a living. He was an alcoholic and drug addict; his brain unstable and volatile. His involvement in the job immediately made him a threat; he was strong and big and capable of tremendous and painful bloodshed. What would stop him from inflicting damage -or even death- on her?

“How the hell would I know? I’m just as shocked as you are. Not to mention totally embarrassed. My mother and step father know what we were up to; before you answered the door. I didn’t have any pants on! Just your shirt! They heard me talking about how you destroyed my underwear! Not to mention you’re not wearing a shirt and your back and ribs are clawed to shit and you’ve got the whole ‘just got fucked’ messy hair going on. Do you know humiliating this is?”

“I’m pretty sure they know we have sex. We have seven kids. I don’t think they’re going to be surprised that we fuck. For fun. Not just for procreating.”

“It’s one thing for them to know we have it, but it’s another thing for them to know we JUST had it. How the hell am I supposed to keep a straight face around them? When they know I just got done getting railed?”

“Imagine if they knew you got railed TWICE. And besides, us fucking? Them knowing it? That’s the least of our problems. Your mother...who I fucking hate more than I have ever hated anyone OTHER than my old man...just showed up on our goddamn doorstep. And she’s planning on staying.”

“Well, Sarge did say they’re staying at a hotel.”

Tyler’s eyes narrow. “That’s not what I fucking meant and you know it. But you know what? They’re damn lucky they DID get one. Because there was no way in hell I’d let them stay here. I’d pay for the hotel myself. What the hell, Esme? Why are they here? Did you know they were going to do this?”

“I never would have invited them here. And even if they HAD mentioned they were coming, I would have told you. I don’t want them here anymore than you do. I’m not the one blame for this.”

“I told you to call her back. Or text her. When it became clear that she wasn’t satisfied with your ‘thank you’ email and started messaging you and calling you, THAT was your chance. You should have got some fucking balls about you and talked to her. Did I not tell you? To get in contact with her? To avoid her escalating? Did I NOT say that?”

“You did,” she admits. “You DID say that. And I should have listened to you. I WAS going to call her.”

“After Christmas. When we got home. You should have done it days ago; when she started calling at all hours of the goddamn day. Did you really think she’d stop? That she WOULDN’T escalate? You know her. You know how fucked up she is. What did you think was going to happen when you kept avoiding her?”

“Not this!” She wildly gestures with both arms in the direction of the living room. “I didn’t know she’d just show up! There’s no way I could have known that. She always has a big thing at Christmas. It’s her chance to look perfect and come across as the most amazing mother and hostess ever. I didn’t think she’d ever give up the opportunity to do THAT. And why are you mad at me? This isn’t my fault!”

“You know what? It is. Because I told you to call her. So she’d stop her shit and leave us alone. And now look! She’s sitting in our fucking living room. On Christmas Eve. And how the hell did she even know our address? How did she know where we live? You can’t look it up on the internet; I made sure of that. So some asshole wanting a piece of me wouldn’t come after my family.”

“I don’t know how she found out. Someone must have given it to her.”

“Who would know? Riley? Riley would tell her to go fuck herself.”

“Maybe Riley told her dad and he let it slip somehow. I don’t know, Tyler. I don’t know HOW she found out. And yeah, maybe I should have grown a set and talked to her. My bad. But you being pissed at me is NOT helping. We need to be in this together. Not fighting and tearing each other apart.”

“I’m about five minutes away from totally losing my shit. You know what the last two days have been like. How I’ve been struggling. And now she’s here? If she ever wanted to give me a psychotic break, this would be her perfect chance. Just watch the son in law completely snap; prove to everyone just how big of a fuck up he really is.”

“You are NOT a fuck up. You never have been! And I know you’re struggling. I’m the one going through it WITH you. Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I want her here? That is the last thing I want! But she IS here. And there’s nothing we can do about it other than suck it up and get through this together! And you snapping on me is NOT helping! I’m not the enemy, Tyler!”

“I never said you were. I’m just saying that…”

His words trail off as his attempts at damage control are ignored. Her petite frame intentionally bumping into him as she steps away; frowning when he tries to grab hold of her wrist and she aggressively yanks her hand away. He chooses 'peace keeping' in favour of escalation; giving them both of a chance to cool down. And he leans against the back of the pantry door, arms crossed over his chest as he watches her furtive search for something to feed their surprise visitors. The shelves are packed; extremely well stocked and organized. And while they bear a wide assortment of goods, she hastily rummages through things as if there’s nothing suitable; tears welling in her eyes and her entire body tense and her hands shaking. And suddenly he no longer sees a grown woman in front of him; the love of his life, his spouse, the mother of his children. She’s been replaced by a desperate and broken little girl so hell bent on trying to impress her mother; driving herself to the brink of panic and anxiety trying to prove herself worthy to a woman that would rather she’d never been born. And it’s far more painful than any of his own issues; an ache that claws at his heart and forms a deep, empty pit in his stomach.

“I’m sorry." Stepping behind her, he lays his hands on her shoulders and presses a kiss to the back of her head. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I KNOW you’re not the enemy. And I sure as hell don’t ever want you to feel like I see you that way.”

“I know you’re going through a hard time and I know her being here is going to put you even more on edge. But I also know what will happen if we even attempt to kick them out.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t kick them out. It’s not like I’d say ‘get the fuck out and never come back’. I’d be a little more...tactful.”

“You think THIS is her escalating? Do you know what will happen if we even try to explain our way through things? Why it’s not a good time for her to be here? Do you really want to get into that with her? Considering all the things she’s already said about you? How she feels about you?”

“I don’t give a fuck what she says about me. Or how she feels about me. I don’t…”

“But I do!” She slams a jar down with even force to shake the other items on the metal shelf. Both her body and her voice tremble, and her chin and her lower lip quiver as she tries to hold back a threatening flood of tears. “I care what she says about you! I’ve always cared! Because it hurts! You’re my husband and the father of my children and you deserve so much better than that. And it fucking hurts when she says that shit about you!”

“Alright...easy now." Running his palms along her upper arms, he leans down to press a kiss to her temple; lips against the side of her head as both forearms come to rest along her collarbone. “Just breathe, Esme..." he draws her against him, squeezing as tight as her little body will allow. “...it’s okay…”

“I care what she says because I love you. Because I know what kind of man you are. Because I know what kind of heart you have and how much you love me and our kids. Because you’ve almost died for me. TWICE. Because she doesn’t know you like I do and she won't even give you a chance. And THAT hurts. To hear those kinds of things about the person you love more than you love yourself. Who SAVED you.”

“I never saved…”

“You did!” she interjects. “You saved me in every way a person can be saved. And you’ve been willing to die for me. Right from the start. And all she can do is hate you and talk shit about you and you have no idea what it does to me. What it does to my heart.”

“I’m sorry…” his lips brush her cheek, then settle against her ear. “...I never thought of it that way. I never thought about it hurting you like that.”

“I hate that she won’t even give you a chance. I hate that she looks at you like you’re some kind of horrible, evil person. That she treats our kids like garbage. I don’t care what she says about me. Or how she treats me. But when she does that to you? Or our kids? That shit kills me inside.”

“You’ve got to let it just roll off you, Me. Stop letting her have this power over you. Stop giving her that kind of control. It’s what she wants. It’s probably why she’s here. See how far she can push you. Try to break you. And I know you usually tell me not to react and keep the peace, but I don’t think I can. I won’t let her disrespect you. I don’t let ANYONE do that. So I can’t promise you that I won’t snap on her. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

She closes her eyes as she leans her head back against his chest; tips of her fingertips repeatedly gliding along his forearms. “I’m at the point where I honestly wish you would. I mean, maybe not go BATSHIT on her. I don’t want her calling the cops or child protective services. But I would seriously enjoy you going off on her within reason.”

“Baby, I will protect you from anyone or anything. I will stand up for you no matter what. You want me to flip my shit on her? I’ll do it. Want me to toss her ass out into the street? I’ll do that too. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. And I AM sorry,” he presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, followed by her cheek and then her temple. “I didn’t mean to snap on you. That wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m an asshole.”

“You can be,” she admits, and he loosens his hold on her when she turns around to face him. Hands falling to her hips and then sliding around to the small of her back, fingers laced together. “But it’s rare. That you’re like that with me. And I know you’re on edge. I know you’re going through some real bullshit. And believe me, I would give anything to take that away. To make everything better for you.”

“I know you would,” he presses his lips to her forehead. “And I’m serious; I’d do anything to protect you. Against anyone or anything.”

“I know. I’ve always known you would. Right from day one. Even then you were pretty intense. When it came to the whole watching over me thing.”

“Well technically it WAS my job.”

“You were getting some good benefits on that job.”

“They were pretty damn stellar, I gotta admit. Who needs dental or prescriptions covered? I’ll take the five days of hot sex.”

“You were very well compensated for your hard work. Actually, I think you were pretty spoiled. I think you STILL are.”

“I am not going to deny that.”

“I’m sorry too. I SHOULD have got a hold of her. I shouldn’t have waited. This is just a huge mess. But I honestly didn’t think she’d do something like this. I know she’s crazy, but THIS crazy? What are we going to do? We have our things that we do. With the kids. We have our own traditions for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We can’t just forget about it all. It’s what they’re used to. It makes them happy. And to be honest? It makes ME happy.”

“And we’ll keep everything the same. I’m letting her fuck things up. For the kids or you. We’ll just go on with it. Do what we’re used to. If she doesn’t like it, fuck her.”

“You just know the kids aren’t going to be happy. The boys and Millie are old enough to remember how awful she was to them. Millie still talks about the time grandma said she was a mistake because mommy and daddy weren’t married when she was made. And Tanner? Tanner had nightmares for three years about you going to hell because you got me pregnant out of wedlock.”

“Well in all honesty, I was probably already going there because of other things.”

She stares up at him pointedly.

“I’m kidding. That was a joke. Not a very well timed one, but…”

“And what if she gets on Nugget about being antisocial? About needing sensory breaks? About needing his safe place and his safe person? I can guarantee she doesn’t give a shit about Autism and won’t bother learning about it. I bet she’s even in denial about. That she’ll say something like ‘there’s nothing wrong with him other than your parenting.’.”

“She says something like that? I WILL toss her ass out onto the street. Literally. Talk shit about my kid AND my wife? That’s not happening in my house.”

“Then we have Declan. A bull in a china shop. You know she’ll get on his ass about being too loud and too hyper and too active.”

“He’s a kid. He’s eight. And he’s got red hair. Of course he’s wild.”

“What about Brooklyn? She looks cute, but she is all daddy and she’s a savage. She will pick up on my mother’s bad vibes and she’ll open her mouth and all hell will break loose.”

“Babe…” he unlocks his fingers and moves his hands to her hips; squeezing tightly and softly massaging. “...you are working yourself up even more and that’s the last thing either of us need right now. Take a breath. It’s going to be okay.”

“And then there’s Takota. Who is crazy shy and super sensitive and I already know he’ll hate her.”

“He’s in good company then. We ALL hate her.”

“You get her and all seven of them together? It’s a recipe for disaster. Especially the Tanner thing. Because TJ will go the fuck off if she even steps out of line with Tanner.”

“So what do you want me to do? Sneak the kids out of the house and replace them with imposters? Get the real ones back once your mom leaves?”

She sighs in exasperation. “You are NOT helping.”

“I think you need to calm down and just let shit take its course. Whatever happens, happens. We can’t predict what’s going to go down and stop it before it does. And you know what else we can’t do? Stay in here for the rest of the day. We went to look for food to make. We’ve been in here for half an hour. She probably thinks we’re in here having sex.”

“We SHOULD have sex. Really piss her off.”

“While I’d normally be right into it, I don’t think even I can get it up under these kinds of conditions. Your mother is kind of a mood killer. Remember how we barely had sex when we lived at her place? And then totally made up for it when we moved into the farmhouse?”

“I always thought you were saying no for other reasons. You always told me you were worried about ‘hurting the baby’.”

“You actually believed that?”

“You were very convincing. I thought maybe you were just super paranoid that something would happen to Millie. And that you suddenly got over it. You should have just told me.”

“The whole ‘honey, your mother’s voice makes me impotent’ wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. So while I love you and I’d love to be able to bang the shit out of you right now and have you making the kinds of noises I know you’re capable of, it’s not going to happen. We need to get our shit together and deal with this.”

“You know what I was thinking? Never mind getting the kids out of the house. WE can sneak out.”

“And leave the kids with your mother? I know I hate her, but I love my kids and I would not do that to them. Now…” placing his hands on her cheeks, he gently turns his face up towards him. . “...we need to get out there before she comes and breaks the door down. You gonna be alright?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

“I got you, Me. I always do. We’ll get through this like we do with everything else,” he presses a kiss to her brow, then to her lips. “Together.”

*****

They make awkward small talk; brief snippets of conversation in between sips coffee and tea and nibbles of the assortment of finger foods Esme had prepared and laid out on the coffee table. There’s a lot that SHOULD be said; grievances waiting to be aired, hurt feelings dying to be brought to the surface, demands for both forgiveness and apology. But for the time being it’s nothing more than comments on the weather; the differences between the dry Colorado chill and the dampness that plagues the Eastern Seaboard. Five years have passed and no attempts have been made to heal both old and fresh wounds; Esme’s mother either in denial of her shortcomings and her responsibility in pushing her daughter out of her life, or simply refusing to accept blame or apologize for all the damage she’d caused over the years. For the most part she stays silent. Leaving it up to her husband to ask about the kids and life in Australia while she ignores the conversation entirely; spending her time glancing around at their belongings with a look of pure disdain. He even sees the way her entire body stiffens whenever he so as much shows Esme even the slightest bit of attention or affection; eyes narrowing and lips tightly pursing together if he gives her a reassuring smile or wraps an arm around her shoulders or presses a kiss to the side of her head. He knows the mother in law can’t stand it; any form of physical interaction between them or the way they’re so in tune with each other’s body language and facial expressions. Able to easily and effortlessly read each other’s awkwardness or nervousness and then doing their best to provide comfort and support.

He’s been hated since the very beginning. Viewed as the enemy who’d ‘stolen’ Esme from her family and somehow convinced her to give up her old life in favour of a new one with him; keeping her trapped by repeatedly getting her pregnant and intimidating and terrorizing her into staying with him. And while they HAVE had their issues and stumbling blocks, he’s never been THAT bad; refusing to follow in his father’s legacy as a domestic abuser and all around asshole. Even at his worst he’s always adored her; respecting her as the love of his life and the mother of his children. Any logical and rational parent would want that for their kid; someone who worships them and busts their ass to provide for them, who has proven time and time again that they’d willingly sacrifice their own life for theirs. But it’s never been enough. All the good going ignored yet all the bad being thrown in his face and used against him. And while he’s the first to admit he’s not perfect, he also knows that he’s not the monster even his own brain often makes him out to be.

“Do you still do what you do?” The mother in law addresses him, refusing to make even the smallest amount of eye contact.

“Not as much anymore. Now I have employees I send to kill people.”

Beside him, Esme clears her throat noisily and then reaches for a mug of tea that sits on edge of the coffee table. She’s been on edge since the moment she’d finally sat down beside him; nervously bouncing her leg up and down or swinging it from side, or chewing on her bottom lip or thumbnail. He’s done his best to step up and be her rock; tucking her into his side or taking her hand or running a palm over her hair. Little things that let her know that she’s safe. That he’s more than ready, willing, and able to protect her. And it gives him something else to concentrate on other than his own issues; caring for her forcing the dark and dire thoughts plaguing his brain to take a back seat.

Michelle tucks her chin into her chest and stares at him pointedly. “YOU have employees?”

“I own my own business,” he says, then wraps an arm around Esme’s shoulders and gives her arm a squeeze. “WE own our own business. We have for almost six years now.”

“A mercenary business?”

He nods. “A successful one too. Very successful, actually.”

“Tyler’s good at what he does,” Esme says, as she lays a hand on his knee and lightly squeezes; the smile she gives him one of love and pride. “VERY good at what he does. He already had quite the reputation before starting his own company. Now that he has? He’s extremely well known and extremely well respected and sought after. His guys are the best of the best. Second to no one. You won’t find people like that anywhere else.”

Her mother stares at her; a mixture of disbelief and disgust. “And you’re perfectly fine with that? Him having THAT kind of business? Making money by killing people? Or having others do it for him?”

“There’s more to it than that, Michelle,” he husband grumbles. “Way more to it.”

“That’s not all it entails,” Esme informs her. “It’s not just about killing. It’s about helping people. It’s about protecting them and defending them. It’s about doing what’s right. Just because you don’t understand it…”

“You’re right. I don’t. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand it now and I didn’t understand it twelve and a half years ago when you willingly ran off with a man that kills people for a living. That has so much blood and God knows what else on his hands.”

“That’s not all he did, mom. He didn’t just kill people. He’s saved a lot more than he’s hurt, believe me. But you can’t seem to grasp that because you’re too busy hating him for stupid reasons. I didn’t care that he was a mercenary. I was just as much as involved as he was. So stop making him out to be some kind of monster because you have some bullshit vendetta against him. Stop…”

“Let’s just try and calm down, okay?” Tyler suggests, his hand on the top of her arm as he pulls her into him; lips pressing against her temple, then her ear. “Just breathe, babe. No need to get worked up.”

“It’s typical of her, isn’t it,” Michelle snorts. “She’s always been over dramatic. Always blowing things way out proportion. How you’ve managed to put up with her for this long, I’ll never know. I’ll give you credit for THAT; being strong enough to hang in there. Mark sure wasn’t.”

“Don’t,” Esme warns. “Don’t you dare bring him up. Don’t you come into my house and sit here across from my husband and bring that piece of shit up.”

“He was a good man, Esme. You just couldn’t see that. You were too busy finding faults. It’s what you do. You get bored of people easily. Which is why it's extra shocking that you’ve made it this far. Twelve and a half years, seven children. Normally you would have pushed him away by now. I don’t understand the appeal, but you seem to. I guess whatever works for you…”

“You know what, it DOES work. WE work. And I know you hate that. I know you hate that I’m happy. That I got away. That I found someone that loves me. Someone that won’t let you control me and manipulate me and abuse me. That’s what it is, isn’t it. That’s why you don’t like Tyler. He doesn’t let you get away with your shit.”

Laying a hand on the side of her head, Tyler draws her even tighter into him, lips against her hair as he speaks. “I think you need to calm down, Me. Just try and relax, okay?”

“You really ARE brainwashed,” Michelle says. “You will defend him no matter what he does. No matter how much he drinks or how many pills he pops or how many times he puts you and those children on the back burner. You will always defend him.”

“I will. And you know why? Because he’s a good man, mom. He’s a good man and he’s a great husband and he’s an even better father. Only you don’t see that side of him. You’ve never been able to. You REFUSE to see it. You refuse to see how much he loves me and his kids. How he’d do anything to protect us. How he’s so willing to lay down his life for mine. You don’t see any of that. Because you don’t want to.”

“Why don’t you get some air?” Tyler suggests. “You’re getting a little worked up, babe. Just go and take a few minutes and…”

“I WILL defend him,” Esme continues. “I will ALWAYS defend him. I will defend him until my last breath. And you know why? Because he would do the same for me. He HAS done the same for me. No questions asked. So don’t you care come into my house and disrespect my husband like this. I spent years letting you walk all over me. And I refuse to let you try that shit now.”

Wrapping his fingers around her upper arm, Tyler gets to his feet; pushing into the soft flesh as a silent request for her to follow. “We’re going to go and step outside for a bit. Neither of us do very well when people just show up on the doorstep. And she’s a little on edge; Christmas always stresses her out.”

“It’s not Christmas,” his wife argues. “It’s her! It’s always her! And she just keeps pushing me and pushing me…”

His hand moves to the back of her neck, effectively steering her towards the front hallway. “Let’s go and get some air. You’ll feel better if you do.”

“Only thing that’s going to make me feel better is that bitch out of my house,” Esme mutters, as she shoves her feet into her beloved -and hated, by him and the kids- Crocs as he opens the front door and gently pushes her outside. Smirking when he hears The Sarge laying into the mother in law; accusing her of being insensitive and intentionally ‘stirring the pot’ and to stop acting like the victim when she’s the one that’s ‘doling out the bullshit’.

Stepping out onto the porch, he allows the door to shut behind him, then lays his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “You need to calm down.”

“I can’t do this.” She shivers in the cold; arms folded across her body and her hands aggressively rubbing her biceps. “I thought I could. I thought I could keep my shit together; get through the next couple of days. I can’t even last two hours! Here I was worried that you’d be the one to lose it! Yet I’m ready to throw her out the front window!”

“I need you to take a breath and calm down. Don’t let her do this. This is what she wants. She wants to get under your skin and she wants to ruin things for you. Don’t give her that satisfaction, Me. You just give her power when you do that.”

“I can’t help it. She just gets under my skin and she keeps digging away and digging away. Until I can’t take it anymore. And she knows exactly what buttons to push! She knows the more she shit talks you, the angrier and more defensive I get. She knows that’s my weakness. In the same way that shitty people know yours is me and the kids. It’s why she does it; to see me squirm and get worked up and eventually snap.”

“Which is why you need to settle the fuck down.” He runs his palms along her arms, vigorously rubbing against the chilled skin. “Don’t let her do this. Don’t let her screw things up for you. For US. That's what she wants. She spent five years trying to tear us apart. She tried ruining what we had every chance she got when we were in Colorado. And if you let her get under your skin like that? You let her do that? You give her all the power. That’s what she wants. That control. Don’t fucking let her win.”

“I can’t stand when she talks about you like that. I know you have thick skin. I know you can take it. You don’t let it bother you. But think about what it feels like when someone talks shit about me. Or disrespects me. Think about how that makes YOU feel.”

“I hate it. It hurts. Makes me want to hurt them right back. Physically, usually.”

“You know what it feels like to have your heart ripped out of your chest and stomped on. Well that’s what it's like for me, too. When she starts in on you. It hurts. Because I know who you are and I know much you love me and our kids and the lengths you’ll go to take care of us. To protect us. I’ve seen you on death’s door. TWICE. Because of me. Because you’ve always been so willing to sacrifice yourself for me. So when she starts on her bullshit…”

“She’s never going to see me the way you do. Hell, I don’t even see myself the way you do. But she’s another story altogether. You KNOW what she’s like. You know the hate she has for me and why she has it. So why do you let it bother you THAT bad? Just let it go in one ear and out the other, Me. Take it from the source.”

“I’m not like you, Tyler. I can’t just turn my feelings off like that. I’ve never been able to.”

“I don’t turn my feelings off. If I could, do you really think I would have busted my ass twelve and half years to get you out of Dhaka? If I was able to turn them off, I would have left you and Ovi behind and I would have saved myself. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have gone through what I did FIVE years ago. I don’t turn my feelings off and you know that. I take it from the source, babe. And her? She’s not worth my time. I don’t give a fuck what she says about me. She’s doing it to be petty. She wants power. She wants control. I won’t give it to her. And you shouldn’t either.”

“I don’t think I can do this. Just let her walk all over me. Say shit about my husband. About my kids! I can’t just sit back and listen to that shit. I just can’t.”

“So stay your distance from her. As much as you can. Avoid being alone with her. Try not to get cornered into that kind of conversation with her. I will have your back no matter what. You know that. Tell me you know that.”

“I do. I DO know that. In the same way I have YOURS.”

“I don’t need you to defend me. Or protect me. Not against her. I've gone up against bigger and better and I’ve lived to tell about it. But fuck with family? Disrespect my wife? That’s not going to happen. And you need to trust me to be the one to handle things IF they get out of control. Can you do that? Trust me?”

“I always trust you. I always HAVE. With my life. With our kids’ lives.”

“It’s going to be alright.” He rubs his hands against her upper arms, then tucks her hair behind her ears and cradles her face in his palms. “I need to get your shit together, okay? I need you. To be my wingman. Or woman. I can NOT deal with your mother and eight kids all my own. There is no way I can survive that. So you think it can keep it together? For my sake?”

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “I think so.”

“Because those kids are going to be home soon and your mom being here is going to throw them off and who knows what kind of shit show is going to go down. Don’t bail on me, Esme. I need you. In more ways than one. In EVERY way, actually.”

“Finally admitting it, huh?” She chides. “Only took you twelve and a half years.”

“I know you’re going to try and argue with me, but I need you a lot more than you need me.”

“I don’t think…”

“Nope." He pecks her lips to silence her. "Not gonna listen. Not even going to give you the chance to finish that sentence. Because you know I’m right. You always talk about how brave and strong I am? Me, you’re the bravest and strongest person I know. That I’ve EVER known. The things I’ve seen you go through? Willingly? The things I've seen you deal with in the past twelve and a half years? The things you've done? Especially for me? There is no one on this earth that’s stronger than you, believe me. And you have no idea how much I really do love you. How much I actually do worship you and respect you."

“It’s only Christmas Eve and you’re already going to make me cry. Don’t you usually hold off until Christmas Day? When you do something so incredibly sweet and romantic and amazing?”

“I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve,” he grins, then tangles his fingers in her hair and gently tugs her head back; lips softly pressing against his forehead. “Just stick with me, kiddo. You’ll be alright.”

“I remember you saying those exact words to me. At Gaspar’s house. In the guest room. After we…”

“It wasn’t RIGHT after. And I was being an asshole. Because you made fun of me because you said I had gray hair in my beard.”

“I didn’t make fun of you. I said it was sexy. That it would look distinguished if the whole thing went gray.”

“Old. You said I’d look old.”

“Well I MEANT distinguished.”

“Sure you did.”

“And look, twelve and a half years later, and you still have the same amount of gray in your beard. A little more in your hair, mind you.”

“All those gray hairs? They all have your name on them.”

“You can complain all you want. You can bitch and moan that I’m stubborn and I’m difficult and that I’m a huge pain in your ass. But you’d miss me if I was gone.”

He hates the feeling of dread that creeps in at those last three words; so simple and said in a light and playful way, but sending a chill that seems to borrow through his bones and travel right to his very soul. It’s his worst nightmare; facing a future without her and struggling to stay on the straight and narrow for the benefit of his kids. His old vices would return with a vengeance; the booze and the pain meds and suicidal tendencies. And then he’d lose any and all remaining links to her; his children torn from him because his demons and weaknesses would somehow overpower his love for them. But he manages a smile for her sake; never wanting her to realize just how much losing her WOULD actually destroy him.

“I don’t even like thinking about that.” His hands slip from her hair; sliding down her spine and resting at the small of her back . “Never mind talking about it.”

The smile broadens, and she perches her on tiptoes in order to wrap her arms around his neck. “I knew it,” she says, eyes sparkling playfully up as her body leans into his. “I AM your favourite. You do love me, Tyler Rake.”

“I do,” he confirms, and he lightly slaps his palms against the cheeks of her ass; lightly squeezing before drawing her into him and pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. “And you have no idea how much.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

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