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plasticferal · 3 years

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chasing highs | rafe cameron.

summary: you’re his lover, and he’s your brother’s best friend. both the secrecy and his addiction cause tension in your hidden relationship.

authors note: 2.4k words. explicit language, mentions substance abuse, angst and weaponry.

soundtrack: sober, childish gambino.

you struggle to support the grocery bags that are filled to the brim, and tearing at the seams. you use your elbow to pry the door open with a struggle and quickly dump the brown bags on the counter. you groan at the sight, the house is in disarray. empty glasses, crushed cans and powder residue scatter across the wooden table. the smell of dry grass that’s been tracked along the floors and a contrasting clean linen fills the small space.

“at least he did the washing,” you run the back of your hand across your forehead, looking around with a fatigued sigh. you begin unpacking everything into cupboards. your arrangement is disturbed by a banging at the door that rattles the wall, it seems desperate. you turn around to pull the handle, revealing rafe. you roll your eyes, murmuring an acknowledgement before leaving the door open for him to let himself in. “country club,”

he steps inside, looking around and acting neurotic. “only barry calls me that,” he counters. “well barry’s not here, so,” you fade off the last part of your sentence, not entirely being interested in conversation. you strain your toes to place a cereal box on the top shelf. rafe silently stands behind you, his chest pressed to your shoulder as he takes it from your hand to put it away, being able to reach with ease. you feel his warm hand crawl around the side of your hip. you grip the edge of the counter that’s underneath you, feeling his breath trickle down your neck.

“i missed you, you know?” he spoke softly. he smelt like faded cologne and dirt, an overall musky scent. it was oddly comforting.

you shrug him off and turn back to pull vegetables from the bags, excusing his body to reach the fridge. he follows your every action.

“did i do something?” he looks confused by your dismissive nature, and sudden sharp tone.

“wanna tell me what you’re here for?” you place the packaged food in the cold drawers of the fridge, slamming them closed a little more dramatically than intended. you know his answer, you just need to reassure yourself.

“i just, i just need a little bit-” he speaks apprehensively. you quickly turn around to look at him, your eyes are heavy and filled with dejection. you lick your lips and bob your head with thought, letting out a bitter chuckle.

“he’s all out,” you look up at him, “house is empty.” and once again, you go back to the groceries. rafe stands still for a moment, rubbing his knuckles. you can hear the friction of his skin.

“i know he’s got something in here, y/n,” he looks around, and you can hear the shake in his vowels. his heavy steps take over the creaking floor, a cabinet slamming, making you jump slightly.

“did you not hear me, or are you not listening? there’s nothing in here,” you follow the noise to catch the sight of rafe rummaging through any door that opens. you to reach his shoulder to pull him away from a brown t.v unit, knowing he won’t give up until he’s been physically stopped. the moment you reach forward he pushes your hand away, grunting and bypassing you.

“are you fucking serious?” shock seeping through. he freezes, hands digging through his hair as he bounces back and forth between his feet. he releases air from his nose in frustration, taking a step closer to you.

“i’m sorry, i, i just need you to help me out,” he lends a hand forward in hopes of taking you into his arms, but you step back.

“help you feed the drug addiction that my brother started?”

“god, not right now,” he shakes his head, shutting his eyes tight and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“help you come to realisation that you have a problem?” you continue, knowing that it’s only getting to under his skin more.

“i don’t have a fucking problem!” he screams. not a yell. a scream with chest, an angry reaction. a reaction you could handle from your brother, arguments often occurring in the house. but not from rafe. not from the man you go out of your way to protect and love.

“get out.” your voice is stern and your eyes are stinging. his tension quickly diminishes.

“i didn’t mean- i didn’t mean to yell, alright?” he bites his words back, fighting that belligerent tone that previously lashed out.

“i’m not repeating myself,” you shake your head, looking to the door.

“sweetheart, i’m sorry. i’m sorry, okay? i’m just on edge,” he rambles on his justification but it only seems to dig himself a deeper hole.

“yeah, that’s the only reason you’re here,” you mumble to yourself, looking at your hands while you squeeze the tips of your fingers. a distraction.

“what’s wrong with you today? talk to me,” he progresses a step closer, careful not to approach too fast, knowing you’d turn away.

“rafe, i know you have a lot going on but god, i don’t want you to pretend to want me if you care more about chasing a high,” you finally spill how you feel, wanting to take it all back the second you do, not because you didn’t mean it, because you truly didn’t want the confrontation. you look up to see his face drop, mouth open a jar and eye’s grave.

“are you kidding me? you’re the only fucking person on this earth i care about,” he speaks with a bounce of a laugh, more out of shock and disbelief that he has to say it aloud.

“i know i have a problem, alright?” he hold his palms together and digs his fingers into his chest, the fixed intensity on his face. he licks his lips, rotating back and forth between his heels before pausing to take a deep breath. he tests the waters in stepping closer to you, and this time you let him. you allow him into your space, admittedly craving his touch. his hand cups around your upper arm, sliding down your skin before his index finger slips around the belt loop of your jeans. he pulls your lower half forward until you’re touching bodies, and his forehead rests against the crown of your head.

“i’m gonna try harder, i promise,” his voice is soft, and assertive. it’s difficult to feel indifferently about him. you want a reason to be mad, a reason to get him out of the house before you run into more trouble, but you know he’s being genuine. in that moment, there were no doubts or fears.

“okay,” your voice faint, letting yourself fully sink into his touch. you reach up to drape your hands over his shoulders, fingers playing with the dirty blond hair that falls messily past his ears.

“i love you, you know that right?” he speaks, mouth now hovering over your lips. you laugh sweetly, pecking the side of his face. “yeah, i do actually,” your arrogant response prompts a poke from him into your side and you push his bicep with a giggle.

“shit, i think i fell in love with you the first day we met,” he pulls your body back to him, swaying you both back and forth. he moves when the gears in his head are ticking, can never keep still. so you allow your body to dance around with him while he ponders.

“you’re lying” you roll your eyes, assuming he was over compensating from the heat you put on him a few minutes prior. “no, i’m not,” he breathes out a smile.

“do you remember that day?” you dip your eyebrow at him.

“of course i do,”

six months earlier.

you slip into that grey shirt that hangs barely past your thighs, causing the shorts underneath to disappear. the heat within the metal surrounded home was intensified by the midday sun, making you irritated and desperate for a cold drink. you grab a can of soda from a cooler, not being your preferred means of refreshment, but better than warm tap water.

as you wipe the corner of your mouth slightly, you simmer in the feeling of the icy feeling in your palm. your moment of serenity is quickly disturbed by the front door being pushed open harshly, making you freeze in your tracks. your first thought was that it would be barry, but upon realising it was a complete stranger, your next thought was to grab that gun barry keeps under the couch cushion.

“barry, i need-” the tall mystery man speaks with heavy breaths, not being aware of your presence.

“who the hell are you?” he sounds mad to be confused, and you’re almost amused by it. given you weren’t afraid of strangers coming and going from the place, it not being an unusual occurrence, typically they have courtesy to knock.

“who are you?” you respond, standing your ground comfortably. the tall male washes his gazes over your body slowly, but snaps out of it swiftly.

“ah, rafe, rafe cameron,” he speaks quick, almost as if he has something more important to say other than his name. you let it sink in for a while, being more than thrilled to waste the home invaders time as you sip your drink. the name sounded familiar, and judging from his attire, you put the pieces together.

“oh! country club, yeah i’ve heard a lot about you,” you chuckle to yourself, knowing barry and him have a love-hate relationship.

“what have you heard?” he probes, face now taut.

“that you have money. no wonder you hang around here so often,” you return that judgemental glance he pulled on you, noting the polo shirt, then back up to his face. his hair fell over it, and his features appeared almost too perfect. it was unnerving. “and yet i’ve never seen you here?” rafe responds, still lost at the interaction he’s enduring.

“you’re way better looking than i thought you’d be,” you try to mutter, but he’s engrossed in your exchange.

“pardon?” he nods his head forward. you smile densely, placing your drink down on the coffee table behind you then waving your hand toward the couch.

“i said take a seat, make yourself comfortable,” completely dismissing his question.

you’re seated on the sinking lounge, while he opts for the single armchair beside it. you’re able to see each other this way. he taps is fingers impatiently against the wooden armrests.

“are you like his girlfriend or something?” he strings together with scepticism. you bite your cheek with a chuckle.

“sister,” you assure. he nods slowly, giving a look that says, ‘my bad’ for getting that wrong.

“good to know,” the words were under his breath but you heard. and you’re sure he wanted you to.

“so did barry say he left something for me, or?” rafe rubs his thighs, shifting in his seat. it slipped your mind, his initial agenda for being there, but you quickly come back to earth. you huff, standing up silently to retrieve the bag that barry did in fact inform you was going to get picked up that day. you walk into the bedroom that has a curtain as a replacement for a door, reluctantly taking it into your hands.

re-entering the room, you throw it onto the table, falling back into your seat. rafe leaps toward it like it was his lifeline. you rolled your eyes, pulling your knees up to your body, hugging them.

“that shit’s gonna ruin your life,” you voice.

“yeah well,” he sniffs, tucking the white packet into his pocket.

“you can thank your brother when that happens,” he gives a hopeless response, with attitude. he stands from his seat, and you follow, making your way back over to the front door.

you wanted to respond, but you’d be getting yourself involved in a sensitive topic. rafe halts between the door frame, his tall figure blocking most of the natural sunlight. you stand in front of him, one hand on the handle prepared to close it behind him, and this time lock it. you’re gazing up at him, wondering why he’s blankly staring at you.

“what?” you question, toying with the handle, apprehensive of what he’ll respond with.

“you’re nothing like him, are you?” his voice is gentle, almost like he’s only speaking loud enough for himself to hear it. your eyes are locked and it’s becoming an overwhelming feeling. you break eye contact, looking past him. there’s a sense of sadness that takes over. having always been a juxtaposition to your sibling, but often being associated, mean’t that someone seeing past the stereotype was a pleasant change. you shake your head, indicating a clear no. he nods, understanding. the silence spoke volumes.

“good. you’re too pretty for that shit,” and with that, his back was turned and he was slipping a black helmet on, momentarily returning to a stranger.

present day.

"and i still believe that,” he brushes a loose strand of hair from your eye. “so pretty,”

you’re fascinated by him. by the way you can tell that stash he was losing himself over has left his thoughts, and for a moment you remember the connection you two have. how powerful it was when he was with you, entrenched in your company.

“i know you’re trying, rafe,” you whisper, and his grip tightens. how much you believed your own words was uncertain, but the hope seemed stronger than any doubt.

“you’re the only high i wanna chase,” he uses his thumb to lift your face to him before he trails his touch along your bottom lip, gently prying your mouth open. he leans down and attaches your lips, yourself pushing toward him to deepen the kiss. you feel him smile against your mouth before you cup his jaw lightly to seperate.

“if barry comes home and you’re all over me, he’s gonna put a bullet in your head,” you look into his eyes. they’re glistening and bright, a drastic difference to how dark they were when he first arrived.

“i’ll take my chances,” before wrapping his warm hand around the curve of your neck, pulling you into another kiss, lasting for what felt an eternity.

the body heat between you intensifies. rafe rolling his hips against you every now and then, urging a response from you, and though you’re aware of the risk of that front door flying open, you dig your nails into his shoulder blades. earning a desperate groan from rafe, you’re utterly intoxicated by his touch, becoming lost and unbothered by any risk or fear.

for a brief moment you understand what he feels when that substance runs through his veins and why he chases it. in your own way, you understand that high.

#who:#rafe cameron #drew starkey #tags:#obx #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #barry outer banks

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slasherrabbitmadness · 3 years

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Beach day with the Slashers

Female Reader -Bo- Gender-neutral -everyone else-

Bo- Fingering but no penetration. Dirty talk.

Angst and Fluff with Herbert and Dan (They pronouns used for Y/N) Fluff with Michael and Jason.

Michael Myers (1978 with the extra height of the 2018 one)

> Wants to visit the beach during the day. He’ll even have his mask off. Instead of enjoying the beautiful view of the sun hitting the blue ocean, you spend your day staring at your handsome boyfriend.

> Michael is just there to scan for new victims. He kills people who litter, hates seeing wrappers and cigarette butts littered across nature.

> You egg him on to go swimming, it takes a lot of coaxing. “Please, Michael, just for a little bit.” He points to your belongings on the towel, “They’ll be fine, who’s gonna want to steal some sandwiches and some towels?” He shook his head. You got down on your knees and gave him sad puppy dog eyes. He grumbled then lifted you onto his shoulder, you squealed as you placed your hands on his firm back, rubbing his taut muscles.

> When he got up to his pecs in the water he threw you in. You came up for air, “Mikey, what the hell!?”

> “What? You wanted in the water.” He gave a small smile.

> He made you swim in front of the beach while he just stood in the water and watched. He knew you’d be fine, it was your belongings he was worried for. You caught his eyes, his already dark blue eyes were now matching the deepest parts of the ocean. He barreled through the water, pushing you aside. You watched him as he made his way up onto the beach.

> Some fuck had the bright idea to do some stealing. He just happens to choose the one man’s belongings you don’t fuck with.

> Before that guy had time to react to a six-foot-three man, hauling ass like he is a tiger chasing after a deer, Michael clocked him so hard in the face the man immediately went down.

> People stood around Michael, some congratulating him for knocking out a thief, others gawked “My God he swung that punch so hard.” “Is the thief even breathing?” Michael stood over your belongings, and turned back towards you, just making your way out of the ocean. Michael was mad, but not as mad at what he saw next.

> Some random beach Chad made his way over to you, “Yo, that was wild huh?” You gave a quick, “Ya.” not caring to speak to him, just wanted to get back to your boyfriend. “He just knocked that guy out in one punch.” You made your way up the beach, he grabbed at you “Hey, be careful, probably want to stay aw-”

>The poor sap never stood a chance, Michael swung his fist so hard Chad went flying back into the water.

> “I’ve had enough, we're leaving.”

> You were gonna protest, but when you scanned the crowd, you realized that yeah, we’re gonna go home.

> Walking back home, Michael held your hand, tightly. “Mikey?” He grunts, “You don’t like people touching your belongings, huh?” You turned to look up at him and he caught you in a kiss. He snuck his tongue in, dominating yours, you moaned and he pulled away. You whined and he smiled.

> “what’s mine is mine.”

Jason Voorhees

> He’s the beach’s lifeguard, so if you wanna spend a beach day with Jason, you’ll have to do it after hours. You would, but Jason takes the evening shifts too.

> Everybody loved Jason. Kids loved him, he was always so nice to them after all. He gave them swimming lessons. He was always so patient with them, never getting mad if a kid was struggling to grasp the basics.

> Men and Women loved Jason. His stoic demeanor, his calming presence...his bulging muscles. Jason was oblivious to all kinds of flirting. “Your hands are like, so big!” said a bubbly tanned beach bunny. Jason just grunts. A muscle-bound beach bro asked, “Bet you lift a lot eh, what’s your macros?” Jason just looked at his large bicep, he shrugged.

> When you visit him at work he gives you small waves then his eyes go right back to the water, not wanting to miss anything. Dedicated <3

> He doesn’t take a proper lunch break, he’ll eat his food while watching the beach, scarfing down the food as fast as possible.

> After a long day, you’ll finally have Jason all to yourself.

> Night swimming!

> You and Jason have splash fights, that he often wins, his large palms create huge splashes that knock you back into the water.

> Keeps you incredibly close in the water, will bug you to wear a life jacket if you ever swam without him. He’s very protective.

> Holds you close to him the further out you go. He won’t let you go, so it’s the perfect time to smother him in kisses.

> Jason hums into your kisses, his large hands running up and down your back, the water and his hands feel perfect on your skin.

> Jason couldn’t be happier that you're together.

Herbert West + Dan Cain - Poly relationship or what Derrick Barry calls a ‘throuple’

> “Please Herbert, for me?” He grimaced at you. Don’t you know how busy he is? Perfect specimens don’t just end up dead you know? Someones gotta end a life! You sighed and brought out the big gun. “Well, Dan said-” The moment Dan left your lips, Herbert was pushing you and him out the door.

> You and Dan had a blast, building castles, collecting seashells, playing some beach volleyball with another friendly couple.

> Herbert sulked under the beach umbrella, nose in a large medical textbook.

> “If you come with us, Herbert, we’ll get you a grape freezie!” Dan coaxed but it did not affect Herbert. Herbert waved you both off as if you were two mosquitoes bugging him.

> You and Dan walked hand in hand, swinging them in between yourself on your way to the little concession stand. “You sure it was for the best we brought him, Dan?” Dan looked at you and frowned, your eyes were a little glossy. “He only came because you were coming.” You felt the tears rolling down your cheek.

> “fuck, Herbert, you little monster.” Dan cursed to under his breath. Dan knew Herbert gravitated more towards him. It’s not that Herbert didn’t like you, just Dan was there first. Dan never told you but he often caught Herbert staring at you, a softness in his eyes that Dan knew meant one thing…

> “I’m sorry…” You mumbled, quickly rubbing the back of your hand over your eyes. Dan shushed you and brought you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

> “Don’t be, Herbert should be. Some Vitamin D is much needed for his pale little body. I’ll talk to him, okay? In the meantime, focus on me!”

> Dan and you continued with the most fun day ever. You ate your freezies, swapping flavors halfway through. A little boy asked Dan to help with flying his kite, Dan’s height coming in handy.

> Herbert stewed in his spot under the umbrella, watching you and Dan have fun, “Hmph, wasting time.” He kept peeking from his book, eyes on you, how you smiled when you looked into Dan’s eyes, how you leaned in closer, head resting on his shoulder. How Dan wrapped his arm around your waist, lips on your ear whispering...God knows what, Herbert can only imagine.

> “They could just yank me away from this, make me spend time with them...not that I want to. But if they dragged me away from my book then I’d have no choice.”

> When it got late, You and Dan packed away everything into the bags, Herbert supervised. How helpful/s

> Dan had you drop a few of the smaller items at the car on your own, he made Herbert help with some of the heavier items. As your figure became smaller and smaller in the distance, Dan turned to Herbert, “You know, they wer-”

> “I can’t believe you two, frolicking about so openly.” Herbert had cut Dan off. Herbert fumbled with the bags while trying to push up his glasses. Dan fumed.

> “You mean act like a couple, which we are, which you're a part of. Or are you only a couple with me?”

> Herbert snapped “excuse me, you and Y/N are most certainly a couple, which I have no part of.”

> Dan scoffed and shook his head “They want to be with you too, Herbert, They do like you, They feel upset with how you treat them. Now I know deep down you adore them, you best start showing it.”

> Herbert stopped, he looked at Dan and then at you in the distance starting the car.

> Later that night, Herbert had asked if you’d help in the basement. As tired as you were, you went to help. Herbert scarcely looked at you, but he found ways to touch you. Hands ghosting over yours as you handed him some flasks. Grabbing your hips softly to move you out of the way.

> “Everything good, Herbert?” You asked. His eyes looked everywhere but you. He stepped a little closer to you, His face only a foot away.

> He smashed his lips onto yours and wrapped you up in his arms. His hands rubbing along your sides, pulling you in so tight you were surprised he was strong enough to bring pain that way.

> “Don’t cry over me. Okay?” Your face felt hot, you nodded. “You are mine too, not just Dan’s, okay?” You nodded again. “Good. Now kiss me.”

> The kiss started tender but that just wasn’t gonna cut it with all the tension between you two.

Bo Sinclair /Female reader/

> Lookin’ at all the pretty girls go by.

> Catches you catching him staring, flashes his baby blues at you, “C’mon darling, you know you're still the apple of mah eye.”

> Gets pissed when other guys check you out. Strolls on over and wraps an arm around you, sneering at the Chads and Kyles.

> “You just had to wear that sexy little number, didn’t ya?” He snarled in your face. You grabbed your tits in the cute red bikini and gave them a Lil shake.

> Bo yanked you away from the beach, you protested, hitting his large forearm, “Bo, what the hell? Oh come on, you act like a leech an-” He cut you off, his lips slammed onto yours, the kiss was teeth and a little tongue action.

> Bo had yanked you away to some run-down looking bathrooms, the paint was so old it looked like the original coat from the 1960s

> “Now, Darlin, looks like you’ve just been wanting to rial me up now, huh? Wanting those sons of bitches to fuck you?” He leaned in close to your ear, his heavy breathing making you shake with anticipation. He suckled on it, causing you to buckle at the knees.

> “Bo, no I didn’t wan-want ah, the- them to” You were panting as he made small circles on your clit over your bikini bottoms. His fingers were calloused but he could be surprisingly gentle.

> “Now, yah best be quiet so no one hears ya, understood, Doll?” You whimpered and Bo flashed you his pearly whites. “That’s a good girl.”

> You should make him jealous more often.

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dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

Of Starlight

A/N: Enjoy ❤️

Warnings: none that I’m aware of

Word Count: 2912

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Chapter 18: What Would Have Happened

It happened so quickly. One minute, Hazel had shown up to the mansion with the desire to help the family with the prevention of the apocalypse, then next minute, Five was watching Diego and Hazel fight before him for almost a full forty five seconds. Punches and kicks were thrown, blood was drawn, but Five decided to step in when Diego clamped his teeth down on Hazel’s ear. Setting his margarita down on the bar, Five blinked behind his brother with a glass vase before smashing it down on his head, the vigilante collapsing to the ground, unconscious. “I draw the line at biting.” He remarked as he made his way back over to the bar. He glanced over at Hazel, who was groaning and nursing his ear. “Hazel, whatever you came here to say, I suggest you make it quick, before he comes ‘round.”

“I left my partner, quit the Commission, came to volunteer.”

“For what?” Five returned to his seat at the bar, picking up his drink.

“To help stop the apocalypse.” Hazel swiped glass off of his shoulder. The man earned a chuckle from the boy as he sipped on his drink. Hazel frowned. “What on earth could be so funny to you right now?”

“Before I answer that, why do you wanna help us?”

Hazel took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in a doughnut shop.” Whatever that meant. Five smiled as he took his straw out of his mouth.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, pal, but you’re a day late and a dollar short. The fact that you’re here right now means, without a shadow of a doubt, the apocalypse is over.”

“Really? How do you know?”

“The mark is dead. Found him this morning,” Five inhaled as he thought over (Y/N)’s words of suspicion. “You were the last known unknown left in the equation.”

Hazel let out an airy chuckle, slightly shaking his head. “Shit… Really?”

“Mmhm,” Five nodded and turned around in his seat. “And if you’re out, then Hellrider ain’t riding.”

Throwing his head back, Hazel inhaled deeply, raising his fists in the air. “Oh! Alright!” He grinned. Letting out a relieved laugh, he stepped away from Diego and joined Five at the bar. Picking up the blender, he gulped down what was left of the margarita, Five chuckling and turning his head forward. When Hazel emptied the blender, he set it back in place, exhaling in content. “So now what?”

“You know, to be honest, I don’t know. I’ve been chasing this thing for so long, I…,” He and Hazel turned to each other. “I never really thought about the day after… I don’t know. What about you?”

“I’m done with all of this madness,” Hazel shook his head. “Time to start over. You should do the same.”

“That’s easier said than done…”

“It doesn’t have to be hard. I mean, think about it like this. If you never time traveled, you never got caught up with The Handler, what would have happened?”

Five glanced over his shoulder, at the unconscious Diego, before turning back to Hazel. “I guess I would have grown up to be an emotionally stunted man-child like everybody else around here,” He nodded, Hazel softly chuckling. “But after that… I guess I would have married the love of my life.”

Hazel raised his brows and leaned back a bit. “Really? I would’ve never guessed a cold-hearted killer would have a soft spot. Especially for a girl.”

“Yeah, well… neither did I. But there’s nothing else I’d rather do right now…”

“Well, there you go. Now you can grow up and get married,” Rising from his seat, Hazel nodded at the boy. “Good luck.” As he began to leave, Five glanced over at Delores. This was the time to make things right. The boy called out to Hazel as he turned toward him.

“One more thing before you go.”

“Shoot.”

“Which one of you was the triggerman for Detective Patch?”

“Triggerwoman.” Hazel blinked. Five sighed through his nose.

“Huh. That’s too bad… That gun could’ve cleared my brother’s name.”

Hazel inhaled as he reached into his pockets. “Well, today’s your lucky day, amigo,” He took out two guns and walked up to Five, setting them down on the bar. “Take ‘em both. I’m done with this life.”

Five gave him a ghost of a smile of gratitude as he watched him leave the parlor. And with that, another weight had been lifted from his child-like shoulders. Turning back to Delores, Five deeply sighed. “Now it’s… Now it’s figuring out what (Y/N) wants…”

“Diego?!” As if on cue, the girl’s voice rang throughout the room. He looked over his shoulder to see her crouching beside their brother, placing a hand on his head, (e/c) eyes full of concern.

“He’s fine.” Five spoke up. Her head snapped up to him.

“He is?”

“I just knocked him out. Did what I had to do.”

“Oh, well, then…” She stood with a shrug, moving to his side. Sitting down in the seat Hazel once occupied, she placed a hand on his back. “How’re you doing, bub?”

The nickname sent a rush of heat to Five’s face and ears. He hoped to god it wasn’t noticeable. “Honestly, I’m a little lost, Starlight… I didn’t have a plan after this.”

“Well, then, what do you wanna do?” She held his free hand in hers, raising it to her lips. “Now that you’ve got loads of freetime.”

“I was hoping you’d help me with that,” He leaned closer, gently touching foreheads with her. “Now that I have no idea what the future holds for us… I just want to have one with you.”

“I’ve cried enough these past eight days, Five,” (Y/N) sniffled with a grin on her face. “Don’t make me do it again.” They both chuckled quietly, hands tightly clasped together. They knew this wasn’t a life or death situation, but they’d been so used to losing each other that every moment of peace felt like nothing but the calm before the horrible, horrible storm. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around her love in a warm hug. Not even hesitating, he returned it, gently rubbing her shoulder. “You mean it? You want a future with me?”

“I mean it with every pubescent bone in my body.”

“Ew…” She laughed, the sound alone tugging at his heart. He then felt the warmth of her lips pressed against the corner of his mouth. He swore his heart exploded right then and there. When she pulled away, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t formulate a single sentence in his mind. It hadn’t even been a real kiss and yet it had rendered him speechless, nonetheless. She smirked in amusement at his current state. “Five, you’re staring.”

“I’m well aware.” He breathed. She giggled and circled around him to leave the room, their eyes never breaking contact as their fingers lingered against each other. When they had finally let go, both their hands twitched, itching for that contact again. (Y/N) placed her fingers against her lips as she turned away and left the parlor to head upstairs. She had planned to go check on her children again. It had felt like months since she’d last seen them. Now that the end of all life on earth had been stopped, she knew she had to make things right and explain everything to them. No matter how crazy she sounded. She owed them that much.

She passed by Allison’s room, but stopped when she saw movement from the small crack in the door. Slowly opening the door wider, she gasped at the sight of Allison, now in different clothing, walking around her room. The woman turned towards the door, a tearful smile stretching across her face. “You’re awake…” The girl teared up as the two ran to each other, engulfing one another in a hug. Allison sniffled and kissed the top of her sister’s head. “Oh, god, you’re okay, Ally, you’re okay…” She repeated, more to herself than to Allison. When they pulled away, they sat themselves on the bed. The Rumor reached over to her notepad and began to write something down. (Y/N) leaned over and rested her elbows on her knees, waiting patiently for her sister with a small smile on her face. The smile faltered when Allison turned the notepad to her.

VANYA KNOWS

“She knows?” (Y/N) frowned. “She knows what?” Her gaze followed Allison’s writing.

WHAT WE DID

“Allison, I’m not understanding.” She shook her head. Allison sighed in frustration and hastily scribbled down her response.

THE RUMOR

“The rumor? Like… when we were little?” She asked, Allison nodding. “Is that why she did this? She found out about… but I don’t understand. What did the…”

“I heard a rumor… you think you’re just ordinary.”

“Number Eight, summon a clone. Tell it to make sure Number Seven does not leave her room. No matter what.”

Her face formed into horrified shock. “So, Vanya has powers,” The nod of confirmation from Allison had the girl running her hands down her face. “Jesus Christ… and we were both in on it…” The two sat in silence. Both in fear. Both in shame. Shameful of the pain they’d caused their sister, of blindly following through with their father’s plans without a single word of protest. (Y/N) turned her attention to the sound of the marker against the paper.

ITS MY FAU-

“No,” (Y/N) held Allison’s wrist, forcing her to halt her writing. “It’s my fault as much as it is yours. We were both there… I take this blame with you. Okay, Ally? You don’t have to make yourself feel like shit all the time,” The scoff she got from Allison made (Y/N) frown. “Allison, tell me one good thing you think you’ve done.” Silence followed. Allison stared down at her knees for what seemed like forever before shaking her head with a shrug.

“Well, I’ve got a list. Let’s see… You promote my work in your interviews… You gave birth to my favorite niece,” The woman silently giggled at that. “You were my maid of honor… You stay so fucking strong despite the shit thrown at you constantly,” She reached over and held her sister’s hand. “You’re learning, Ally. We all are. No one said we had to be perfect… We do shitty things and then we learn from them. Yes, part of the process is feeling like shit, but it isn’t the end. I just want you to know… you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me. If you ever feel like a piece-of-shit-sister… know that I think otherwise. Vanya doesn’t hate you… I’m sure after we properly apologize, she’ll understand, right? She just found out that everything she was ever told was a lie… and the source of it. She’s learning, too. We just need to be patient with her. No one really ever was…”

Allison smiled down at her notepad and scribbled something down before holding it up.

PRETTY SMART FOR A KID

“Piss off, Allison.” (Y/N) laughed.

-------------------------------------------------

After leaving Allison to her own devices, (Y/N) slipped into her bedroom and swiped her car keys off her bedside table. She whistled a tune and spun the keys on her finger as she walked towards the stairs. Hearing rustling, she halted when she saw Five in his own room. She walked inside and gently knocked on the door. He looked up from the duffle bag he had just unzipped and smiled tightly. “Hey, Starlight.”

“Hey, bub,” She watched him with a raised brow. “What’re you doing?”

“Uh, well… I figured if I’m going to move on and live as much of a normal life as I can… I’ve gotta let go of the past.” He motioned towards Delores, who sat in her usual chair. (Y/N)’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Seriously? Five, you’re returning Delores?”

“It won’t be easy, I admit,” He grunted. “But I… I have to do this.”

“Make things right,” She nodded, Five staring at her in slight confusion. “You could say I’m on my own journey with that…”

“We all might as well be,” He slowly picked up Delores, his green eyes holding so much care and fondness for the mannequin. He hesitated as he so very gently placed her in the duffle bag. Sighing, he turned his head to (Y/N). “Would you like to say any last words to her, (Y/N)?”

“Oh, uh… Sure,” The girl cleared her throat and slowly walked to Five’s side. He stepped back a little to give her space. Her eyes darted around the room. From Five, to his posters, to the window, before finally landing on Delores. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Delores… um, well, we didn’t talk all that much, but… I think if Five likes you so much, you must be pretty great. I, uh… actually wanna thank you… for taking care of him. He went through hell and my worst fear was that he’d do it alone… but you came in and did what I couldn’t. And I’ll be eternally grateful for that. I wish you luck in life, Delores.” Standing up straight, she turned to Five, who nodded in satisfaction.

“Beautifully said. Now,” He walked closer and zipped up the duffle bag. “I’ll only be a little while.”

“Oh, wait,” (Y/N) gently pressed her hand to his chest to stop him. “I can drive you there.”

-------------------------------------------------

(Y/N)’s car parked in front of the department store Five had directed her to. Very slowly, the boy removed his seatbelt and turned to the backseat, where the duffle bag sat. He let out a breath and slowly reached back for it. “I don’t know, Starlight… If I can…”

“I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want, Five… But if you truly want to move on and have… that future… This is kinda necessary. I know you can do this, bub. You have more than just Delores now. You’ve got our siblings, you’ve got me.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Five hummed and grabbed hold of the duffle bag, dragging it into his lap. His finger gently ran over the fabric as he shut his eyes.

“I know…”

Seeing the somber look in his eyes once they opened, she tilted her head and smiled. “Make sure they get her a new outfit. She’d look beautiful in red.”

Five chuckled and shook his head, opening his door to leave. “I’ll be back.” He whispered.

“And I’ll be right here.” She smiled. He returned the expression before getting out and closing the door, swinging the bag onto his back as he strode inside the store. (Y/N) leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, a distant vision she’d had years ago resurfacing her memories.

-------------------------------------------------

The clone stood a few feet away from Five, who sat on the hood of an abandoned car with Delores by his side. The boy sighed and stared up at the star-painted sky. He threw his arm around the mannequin’s “shoulder” and leaned into her. “These stars remind me of (Y/N)... Who is she? Oh, just… a girl…” The clone stalked closer to the car in silence. “What? No, Delores, she’s… Well, she’s dead now. I just called her Starlight because… that’s what she was to me. In an endless sea of darkness, she shone in all her glory. She didn’t make the darkness go away, but she sure made it more bearable to live with… Yeah,” He bitterly chuckled. “Yeah, I was in love with her… But it doesn’t matter. She’s… She’s gone now,” He turned his head to face Delores, his eyes softening. “But at least I have you…”

The clone’s foot came into contact with a nearby scrap of metal, the screeching of it sliding against the ground alerting Five. He jumped up and turned to the clone in anger. “Go away!” He tried waving it off. When it didn’t respond, he hopped off the car and stormed up to it. “I said go away! All you ever do is stand there and look like her! You don’t talk like her or smile like her o-or laugh like her! You just sit there and take up space! Just get the hell away from me!” He shouted, not daring to get any closer, for he knew he’d only get shoved back. The clone only squinted its eyes at Five, the boy sighing in exasperation and stomping back to the car. It watched as he sat atop the hood, burying his face into his hands.

“What the hell am I gonna do with it, Delores…?”

-------------------------------------------------

The girl snapped her eyes open when she heard the car door opening. Turning to her right, she was greeted with the sight of Five. Alone. As he climbed into his seat and shut the door, she grinned brightly at him. She reached her hand over and placed it over his. “I’m so proud of you…” She whispered. The boy only nodded, eyes trained on his knees. (Y/N) tilted her head and hummed in a soothing manner. She considered her next decision for about a solid two minutes before starting the car up again.

“Do you want to meet Michael and Jada?”

—————————————

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#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #tua #tua fanfic #tua x reader #tua five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #number five #number five x reader #five x reader #of starlight

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Hot-shot, Hot-head | Clint Barton

Hey lovelies! Here's another one for Dinner at Dizzy's! I actually really like this one. Clint Barton is super close to my heart. I remember watching the avengers for the first time when it first came out (and Thor before that) and just falling in love lol. Treat him well lovelies and please do enjoy.

Appetizers (Tags): Fluff / Angst (more so fluff)

Entres (Pairing): Clint Barton x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 7: “Teach me.”

Notes: None, requested by an anon

Word Count: 2.9k (lol I don't even have an excuse anymore)

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

“God damnit!” She hisses as the bow string snaps back against her fingers, the sting making her fumble the bow.

She catches it— like she always does— but not without another curse. She resists the urge to slam the hunk of metal against the grass, her muscles squeezing so tight she could scream. He makes it look so fucking easy. It’s not— it’s impossible. She wants her pistol back and glass of water. Water or wine. Same thing. Screw Barton and how ridiculously nimble he is— she thought she was supposed to be the agile one.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. She bites back a groan when she hears footsteps sound from behind her, rolling her eyes before spinning on the brunette, scowling at the gleeful squint of his bright blue eyes. He’s always so smug. In all of her years of knowing him that has never changed.

“Told you it’s not as simple as it looks.” He simpers, his smile so wide she wants to throw him to the ground right here, right now, and slap it off.

Slap, kiss— same thing.

“If you came out here to mock me, Barton, feel free to not.” She scrunches her nose— it’s the only thing she can do to keep the smile off her face.

Why does his grin always have to be so infectious? She wants to be annoyed still— she was annoyed before she turned around so why can’t she still be annoyed now? It’s infuriating and awful and so damn endearing. God, if she could go back to training and strangle Fury she honestly just might. What was he thinking, pairing her for fucking life with Clint Barton. She glances at the man and the smirk in his eyes and she presses her lips together.

He notices— of course he notices, they trained together, their reflexes are the same. It’s what makes them such good partners— they were created to be a team. Fucking Fury. Well, a team in one sense at least. The other not so much. She shoves the thought to the back of her head, finally letting the smile break out on her face.

“Someone has to, hot-shot.” He settles against the tree behind him, muscled arms crossing over his chest, puppy dog smile still just as wide.

God where the fuck is she supposed to look? There’s nowhere left— not the corded veins along his arms, not the golden skin peeking out of the collar of his t-shirt, not the the glint in his icy eyes that she can’t tell whether it’s from the sun or is just always there— she’s being attacked on all sides and all she has is this stupid bow— his stupid bow.

She drops her shoulders, rolling her eyes again and caving to his larkish voice— she always does. “I guess it’s fair. Shouldn’t rag on you so much for your terrible shot—”

“I don’t have a terrible—” He begins to protest, pushing from the tree and stepping closer to her.

She presses her fingers to his chest when he gets a few inches away, trying to keep her breathing in check. “With a pistol. Ten years later and he still interrupts. Good to know some things never change, hot-head.”

She beams up at him, palms flat against his broad chest, forcing herself to ignore the heat seeping from the thin material. It feels like at any moment he’s going to burn her, much too hot for his own good. Being this close to him she can smell his woodsy, citrus scent— like the damn sun— and she takes a step back. Co-workers. Partners. Best friends.

Nothing more.

“Ten years later and she still does everything in her power to make me interrupt. Terrible shot. Who taught you to fight so dirty, huh?” He peers down at her as he pushes past her, fingers flicking at her jaw, and she bites her tongue because it’s starting to feel like he’s asking her to say something she’ll regret.

“Uhm you? You did— weren’t you the one who kicked my knees in on the first day of training?”

He’s a good few feet in front of her now— stupid long legs— and she sucks in a breath of fresh air, her skin tingling as her body cycles him out of her blood. There’s no point, he’ll be back in a moment. He’s always back— always annoying and around and warm.

He glances back over his shoulder— “You mean right after you broke my nose, right darlin’?”

She lets her gaze flick to his nose and the faint bump on the ridge where she had jutted her palm into it all those years ago. The academy nurses are good— she can only see the blemish when she’s looking for it. Too bad her jab is better. It suits him at least— everything does.

“I did do that, didn’t I?” She hums, meeting him once more and standing on her tiptoes to get a better look. He leans down, staring at her from over the crook. “Maybe I was marking you Barton— I made ya’ pretty.”

He hands her the arrows, fingers clasping over her own for a moment, encasing her in that warmth again. “Couldn’t have found any other way, huh?”

She has to force herself to meet his banter, suddenly breathless and woozy, still wobbling on her tiptoes. “Thought you liked the violence— you did back then.”

He holds her gaze, fingers tightening so minutely that she’s sure if she were anyone else she wouldn’t have noticed. She wouldn’t notice how his eyes skim over her face before flicking over her head quickly, how his shoulders square defensively, how even when there’s no one around he’s always watching her back. But she isn’t anyone else— she’s her and she notices everything he does.

He meets her gaze again, muscles easing slightly, and her lungs scream at her because all she can taste is lemons and juniper.“Oh I love the violence.”

She tugs the arrows— and by default her hand— from his hold, searching desperately for an escape in the open air in front of her. The targets taunt her from across the field, the little pin prick holes in the middle of the red bullseye leering. She wants to throw the bow again— where the fuck is her gun?

“Why am I doing this again?” She groans and he laughs, his hand curling around her neck, thumb digging into the knots in her shoulder blade.

“‘Cause one day you won’t have bullets.” He supplies, voice too close to her ear for her to make much sense of the words. They’re like honey— too sweet, too slow.

Still she shrugs. “Won’t I have you, though? You planning on ditching me, Barton?”

Beyond the teasing she can hear the insecurity laced in her words and she wants to slap herself for potentially ruining the sunny afternoon. She can practically feel the switch in the atmosphere. The lighthearted banter fading into cold seriousness. She swallows, closing her eyes. Even after ten years she’s still terrified that one day she’s going to wake up and he won’t be in the kitchen pouring the sugar into her coffee and burning the toast. Joining the academy was her chance— at freedom, at family— and Clint was— is— the payoff of those hard years. She would be utterly lost if one day he just wasn’t there.

His hand stills, thumb still pressing into her skin, chest tensing where it just barely brushes her back. For a moment they just stand there, the only noise being the soft thud of the bow landing in the grass. A few seconds later the arrows join. She doesn’t drop them on purpose— she would never carelessly throw his things around— she just can’t feel her hands anymore. When she brings them together, wringing them together, she isn’t surprised to find them trembling. She can feel him start to shake his head, hair brushing against her temple before the words are even out of his mouth.

“Don’t even say that. Don’t. Or think about it. Ever again— you hear me? I thought I was the dumb one.” He tries to say it like a joke— she can hear him forcing his tone to stay light— but his voice is too gravelly, his words spiking too low.

She presses her lips together again, nodding. “Sorry—” she mumbles, pressing the heel of her palm to her forehead, sinking back slightly to knock her shoulder into his chest— “was just— just over thinking, I guess. Stressed myself out.”

He wraps his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her against his chest. She tips her head back, putting her weight on him. It’s not unusual— it would be more unusual if she didn’t cuddle into him. That’s why she does it despite how terribly she wants to pull away. She can’t stay in his citrus arms— in this fever dream. She needs to break the spell. Maybe spend some days in the woods soon, alone, resetting her brain. She’s had to do that a few times.

“Not going anywhere.” He mumbles, hands closing around her arms, his jaw— scratchy and rough from stubble— rubbing against her shoulder. “You know that. Not now, definitely not in a fuckin’ appocalypse—” she laughs at that and he rocks on his heels, letting out a soft hum— “We’re in this together. Where the hell would I even go?”

He whispers that last part, probably hoping she wouldn’t hear, but his mouth is right there and she’s tuned into everything him. She can hear the worry, feel the rumble against her back. Shit. They’re both spiraling now and she’ll be damned if she brings her down with him. She has to do something.

“Teach me.”

He freezes behind her, hands softening their grip. When he speaks his voice is a little tighter than normal— hesitant, maybe. “What was that, darlin’?”

She goes to pull out of his arms again, bending to retrieve the bow, but she only ends up pulling him with her, the giant man curling around her easily. Too easily. She clenches her jaw, fighting the sudden urge to whirl around and push him to the ground.

Push him to the ground and climb on top of him.

“Teach me how to use this stupid thing, Barton. Can’t do it— you were right.”

Apparently she doesn’t have whirl around— he does it for her, spinning her so quickly that the heavy metal almost whacks him. He pries it gently from her fingers, releasing it back onto the grass. She almost protests— what the hell was she so afraid of dropping it for when he practically just threw it? — but before she can he’s pulling her off her toes and spinning her around.

“Clint what are you doing—”

“Ten years— it’s taken ten years for you to say those words.” He laughs and she swats the nape of his neck, rolling her eyes, feet dangling off the ground. It’s all she can do to not curl them around his hips. “And you tell me my ego is big.”

She scrunches her nose at the man, eyes dipping over his crinkled eyes and triumphant smile, once again fighting the curve of her own lips. “You’ve been waiting for me to ask for help?”

He snorts, dropping her on her toes before slumping onto the grass, sprawling out on his back— clearly not about to actually do as she asked. “No— if you wanted to learn that badly you would have by now. You’re not stupid, just stubborn.”

Clint leans up, warm hand curling around her ankle and yanking, pulling her feet out from under her and sending her flying. Before she has time to scream— hell, to even think about screaming— his arm is hooking around her stomach, catching her midair and lowering her easily to his chest. Ten years and she’s still never ready for that. She goes to drive her elbow back against his ribs but he catches her, grabbing her arm and instead pulling her to rest across his stomach.

She grumbles but turns anyway, cheek pressing against hard, warm muscle, meeting his gaze from where his head rests on his folded arms. “Then what?”

He flashes her another toothy grin— that can’t be good. “Was waiting for you to tell me I was right about something. Took you long enough.”

She scowls. “Shut up, will you?”

“Awe, is someone angry that I won?” He teases, his voice warmer than the sunshine on the bits of her exposed face.

“Barton, I said shut up.”

His laugh is too easy. Too musical. It rumbles against the parts of her that are pressed against him and makes the rest of her ache, wanting to be pressed against him as well.

“Geez, someone’s touchy today.”

As if to enhance his point he runs a gentle finger over the top of her spine, right where her tank top stops, and she has to clench her jaw against the heat that pools in the pit of her stomach and the shiver that races down her back. It’s the final straw. Ten years is a lot of straws— maybe she’s a hoarder of said straws— but finally her last one has broken. She can’t take it anymore. She bolts upright.

“Shit—” he mutters lowly, probably not intending for it to reach her ears, before speaking louder— “c’mon darlin’ I was just messing with you—”

She swings her leg over his stomach, knees caging him underneath her, thighs spreading deliciously over his warm abdomen, and his mouth snaps shut. He’s up on his elbows, no doubt because he had been worried and was on his way up to check on her, but now it only serves to bring them closer together. For a moment all she does is look at him, chest heaving, palms pressed against his chest and anticipation laced in every muscle. Each breath he takes tortures her— what’s he thinking?

She’s never thought Clint Barton to be a mind reader but maybe anything is possible at this point because as soon as she thinks it his crystal eyes narrow, his pink lips quirking up. “Are you going to make the first move or do I have to?”

Butterflies erupt in her stomach— wait, no, that’s just her gut twisting as he flips her over so fast that she doesn’t have time to blink. Dammit he’s quick. She’s quick too, though, legs finally curling around his hips to keep her back from crashing against the ground. She doesn’t remember wrapping her arms around his shoulders but when her head stops spinning she can feel her fingers digging at his arms. Her back eases against the ground, one of his arms slipping under her head, his other hooking around her thigh and pressing her that much closer to him.

His nose bumps against hers, breath hot on her lips, and she doesn’t try to fight the smile this time. “You didn’t give me a chance.”

His lips brush against hers, just a wisp— a promise— of what’s to come, and she squeezes her thighs tighter, pulling a raspy groan from his mouth. “Gave you ten years, didn’t I?”

She hums, lips pressing against the corner of his mouth. “You did— what on earth is wrong with you Barton?”

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “You’re really something, you know that?”

She kisses the other corner, just barely brushing her mouth against his as she passes, reveling in the way his hips push her harder into the grass. “Someone’s touchy today—”

The rest of her words are cut off— they’re swallowed— by two warmer-than-sin lips. He tastes like candy. Like red licorice and lemon drops. That’s all it takes for her to kiss him back, hands slipping into his hair and yanking— maybe she should be gentler but she can’t help it. She’s been patient, she’s paid her dues. Besides, if the moan that rips from his lungs and passes over her tongue— all needy and wild and lemon tinted— is anything to go by then she would say he doesn’t mind it. His tongue slips into her mouth, caressing hers, and she returns his moan with one of her own.

“Why— he mumbles into her open mouth, pausing momentarily to tug her bottom lip between his teeth and groan— “why didn’t we do this earlier? Like—” his lips skim over her cheek, up to her ear, tugging on her earlobe next— “like ten-years-ago sooner?”

She turns her face towards him, following him as he moves down her neck, lips pressing against his cheek. She doesn’t want to detach from him now. She doesn’t think she’ll ever want to. Her mouth slants against him, teeth nipping at his jaw, and he hikes her higher up his body. Her fingers are still tangled in his silky hair, raking through the strands and trying to memorize the feeling.

“I don’t know.” she mumbles against him— she can’t bring herself to find a witty remark, she just wants more.

He pulls back, ducking his head, lips swollen and eyes sparkling. “That was passive of you, hot-shot.”

“Barton.”

For once he doesn’t need to be told twice, leaning back down, nose bumping against her with another brain melting chuckle. She arches up, impatient for his touch. Before his lips skim hers he says something else, though. It’s like he can’t help but annoy her every chance he gets.

“Maybe you’re the hot-head after all.”

#Clint Barton #hawkeye x y/n #hawkeye x reader #clint barton x y/n #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #clint barton fic #hawkeye fic #clint barton imagine #hawkeye imagine #clint barton fluff #clint barton angst #hawkeye fluff #hawkeye angst #mcu fic #mcu #marvel cinematic universe fic #marvel cinematic univers #Dinner at Dizzy's

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passivenovember · 3 years

Text

You Look Stupid When You’re Sad.

Steve Harrington smelled of sour patch kids and unbaked cookie dough.

Billy didn't think it was a bad smell, exactly, just weird; intense, heady, and stuck to the walls of his brain. Doughy when the sunlight couldn't dry the track marks of Steve's sweat before nap time, heady when it got into Billy's system and stuck with him like the thrum of his heartbeat.

Wherever Billy went Steve Harrington was there. Like a shadow. A noisy, scrawny, wire-frame glasses wearing shadow that elbowed its way into the chair across from Billy's during lunch and followed him around at recess; three feet behind and always pretending to spot interesting shapes in the clouds when he thought Billy wasn't looking, but.

Billy was always looking.

It was so weird.

Steve was so weird. The way he made bright, happy noises when he was paired with Billy for station time, how he always drug his mat over from the other side of the room to sleep next to Billy when it was time to zonk out after second recess despite knowing that the spot was saved for Barbara, Billy's actual best friend.

She got nightmares and Billy liked to be there to hold her hand while she dreamed but every afternoon, without fail, Steve came wondering over with his lip stuck out in a question.

It was confusing.

Steve was so confusing. The way he hugged his mat to his chest, chin quivering with a little, "Okay. Sorry, Bills." Every time Billy slapped his hand on the carpet and growled that the spot was taken. Occupation, not reserved for pasty-kneed dorks with wire frame glasses, and.

Billy didn't want to make the kid cry, or anything, but he always managed to do just that. Paint himself as a bad guy.

Billy rubbed his forehead as Barb settled in on his left hand side one afternoon after such an altercation, smiling so big her lips disappeared behind the plastic frames of her glasses.

"What's wrong, Stevie?" She asked, and.

Billy tried not to be jealous.

Steve hiccupped, cheeks growing redder by the second. "I wanna nap with you guys but Billy won't let me."

"Hey, that's not--"

"You can sleep with us if you want to. Billy has a really big blanket, maybe he can share with both of us." Barbara looked at him expectantly, like. "Right Billy?"

And it was dumb.

It was so dumb, that they were staring at him with hopeful eyes and Steve's chin was still quivering and Billy didn't want to be the bad guy; he wasn't Mesogog and he didn't want to hurt the kid's feelings, but.

Steve Harrington got under his skin. With his soft hair and big brown eyes, always following Billy around and begging for the space to be made. Billy got clumsy and nervous when Bambi was nearby, and.

The idea of sharing space. Sleeping next to Steve with his chirpy little noises and warm soft hands, it.

Made Billy feel like he was breaking out in itchy red bumps.

No.

He would stick to his guns; the blanket just wasn't big enough for three people. But then, Billy's grumpy brain supplied, Steve could steal Barbara and keep her as his own best friend if Billy didn't let him stay, so. It was time to cut his losses.

"God, you look stupid when you're sad." Billy muttered.

Steve started crying again.

Billy really wished he'd stop that.

"I'm sorry, Billy. I know I'm dumb but I don't mean to be." Steve whimpered. He tucked his mat under his arm and made to get up.

And leave.

As if Billy would let Steve make him look bad in front of everyone, especially Barbara.

"Lay down, dork." Billy grumbled, tugging the blanket up around his shoulders and peeling it back for Steve reluctantly.

Harrington's smile was so bright it could've melted crayons when he settled in close, chirping happily as Billy pulled the blanket around them and tucked in on impulse. The room went dark, Mr. Talamantez reminding them to count butterflies if sleep wouldn't come.

It didn't.

Steve smelled too much like cream and sugar for Billy to get any rest at all.

"Whatcha making, Billy?" Steve asked, pink tongue poking out in concentration as he peered over Billy's arm at his art project.

A stack of pink and red construction paper was Billy's favorite thing in the world because it meant endless possibilities. Pink was soft and sweet, red was passionate and cool. Like hot wheels and firetrucks and hearts full of warm oven mitts, so.

He pulled the leaflets from his backpack during circle time and got busy, carefully folding the delicate paper hamburger style and then tracing swirly, dramatic lines for each heart on the page.

Valentines was Billy's most favorite day of the year.

Even more than Christmas, even more than his birthday, and only a little bit more than Halloween because on Valentines? The whole universe was covered in flowers and little tin wrapped chocolates and love hearts were the best thing for a kid to make with scissors.

Billy ignored Steve's tongue, turning his shoulders to the room. "I'm making love hearts."

"For who?"

"None of your beeswax."

"Okay," Steve said happily, grabbing a handful of markers and re-situating himself much closer than Billy would've liked. Steve's Nike's tapped the itsy-bitsy-spider on the rug as he declared, "I'm drawing batman on a surfboard!"

And Billy tossed aside his first ruined Valentine. "Oh cool, I don't remember asking."

"That's okay," Steve giggled. "Sometimes I get motor mouth. My Daddy says it's 'cause I'm a fruit."

"My daddy called me that sometimes before he got sick." Billy turned to glare at him. "That's not a good thing."

"It is to me!" Steve giggled again. He was always doing that. "I like Kiwis. My mommy packed some for lunch and I had them for breakfast. They're yummy in geek yogurt. They make me smile because they have beards!"

Steve cackled like kiwi's having beards was the funniest thing on earth and Billy wondered what there was to be so happy about.

He tried not to smile at Steve's dumb face. "I think you mean Greek yogurt."

"Yeah, probably. If I'm like a kiwi, that's alright, I think." Steve's tongue poked out again. "Surfboards make me think of you." He declared, and.

Steve smelled like toasted chocolate on s'mores, his hands somehow kicking up more of his sugary sweet odor each time he reached for a new piece of paper. Billy didn't know how he was supposed to get anything done when his circle buddy smelled like a chocolate birthday cake.

It was kinda gross.

Billy pulled out a sliver marker and traced Stinky Butt Max on one of the smaller Valentines, remembering to fold down the corners so the sensitive skin on her palms wouldn't get hurt when she inevitably started smacking him it.

The pink Valentine looked more like a chewed up Starburst gummy this way, but. Max wouldn't know the difference.

Steve peered over his shoulder again, cooing softly. Like a baby dove. "That ones pretty, Bills! Is Max your Valentine?"

"Ew," Billy wrinkled his nose like he sometimes did when Max needed a diaper change. "She's my baby sister, don't be an Ick Monster."

"What's an Ick Monster?"

"Somebody who makes weird jokes and says weird things, so." Billy shrugged, scrawling his mothers name on a second love heart. He poked Steve's tummy with his marker. "That's you, I think."

Steve giggled before slapping Billy's hand away, and. Watching him work.

After a while Steve inched closer. "So you don't have a Valentine?" He wondered, and.

Billy didn't understand the question. "Mr. Talamantez said we're all each other's Valentines so nobody feels sad."

"Yeah, but. Everybody has someone they want to smooch on Valentines." Steve started playing with his hair, fingers twisting waves in a sea of brown, like they sometimes did when he was nervous. "Someone they like best-best. Better than all the other kids."

Now it was Billy's turn to giggle. "That's icky."

"Smooching?" Steve's eyes sparkled. "It's fun sometimes."

"Like you've ever kissed anyone."

Steve looked offended. "Have too."

"Have not."

"Have too," Steve pouted, crossing his arms.

Billy began work on a third Valentine. "Who did you kiss?"

"Nancy Wheeler."

Billy snorted, not sure if he wanted to imagine Steve kissing Nancy Wheeler, or. Kissing at all.

Steve's chin started quivering. "You don't believe me?"

"No." Billy said lightly, capping the marker with a sniff.

Kissing was not fun. It was wet and violent and looked like it maybe hurt a little bit, the way he'd seen his mom and Susan kiss when he got up to go potty at night. Billy regarded Steve through easy, narrowed eyes; Steve wasn't the kind of boy who kissed like that.

"How come you're so weird?" Billy wondered.

"I like being weird." Steve said, reaching for a green marker to color in his surfboard. Steve nodded at the small pile of Valentine's strewn on the carpet between them. "You should put the love hearts on foam when you're done."

"I was already gonna do that, genius."

Billy wasn't already going to do that, but he'd eat a centipede before he let Harrington know he came up with a good idea.

"They could be superhero colors!" Steve hollered suddenly. He was so loud all the time. "That way your mommy and sissy can know that you love them because they're cool. Like Aqua-man."

Billy frowned, watching Steve fold his Batman drawing over and over again until it all but disappeared from sight. He leaned back against the wall with an eye roll, shocked out how much Harrington lacked any concept of taste, or.

Shame.

"Aqua-man isn't cool," Billy said. Because Aqua-man wasn't, he was like. The lamest of them all. "His only power is making the bad guys drown, at least the other heroes can punch really hard."

"Punching isn't always the best, though." Steve tucked Batman into the front pocket of his shirt, leaning into Billy's space. "Sometimes punching just makes the bad guys stronger. Like Wilson Fisk."

Billy frowned. "Punching works for Spiderman."

Steve considered this fact, pink tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth again. He thought really hard for a long time, as if Steve didn't have Spiderman socks on everyday at recess when he removed his Nike's to fill them with rocks.

Such a weird guy.

Finally, Steve smiled. "I like water, though. Your eyes are like water. From the fountain in the hallway, and like the lake at camp." Steve pushed his way into Billy's space, frowning with his head cocked to the side like there was more thinking to cross of the list. "You're very pretty, Billy. Like a cloud."

And.

Billy didn't have the words to articulate the way Steve's smell went a little crazy after that, like a bag of powdered sugar had caught fire from a signal light once he realized what he'd said. Billy waited for Steve to take it back, because.

Boys calling other boys pretty wasn't allowed in Mr. Talamantez' classroom, or. Anywhere else.

Steve didn't take it back.

"You wouldn't like Aqua-Man's water, 'cause you'd drown." Billy said, getting back to work on his Valentines if only for a distraction from the way Steve was watching him. "He doesn't control his power very well and sometimes the mean guys get hurt real bad."

Steve kept right on talking. "I wouldn't be a mean guy though," He reasoned, sliding impossibly closer on the alphabet rug. "I'd help him fight crimes. Like Captain Underpants!"

And.

Billy had nothing to say to that, sucked in and drowning by the way Steve's eyes were glittering.

"You're a weird guy, you know?" Billy breathed.

Steve's giggle went right to Billy's tummy, teaching it to do backflips, somehow.

"That's okay." Steve said, reaching back for a fresh piece of paper. "You'll remember me better and maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine."

Steve's hair fell across his eyes, head bopping along to whatever song he was singing to himself today. His lips glittered like a frosted donut. Like he'd been eating a strawberry ice cream cone instead of confusing all the boys around him.

Maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine.

Huh.

Billy started work on a new love heart and pretended not to notice.

On Tuesday morning Billy woke to the smell of pancakes and fresh squeezed orange juice.

Maxine was already up.

Her long red hair was piled on top of her head in two Princess Leia buns. Susan had put in little heart clips and the pink dress Billy's mommy had made special was already covered in mashed banana and something that looked like magic marker.

She was all ready for Valentines day.

Billy didn't understand why they bothered trying to make her look dainty when Max was more interested in destroying Billy's favorite toys and starting fires.

She sat on the floor of the room they shared together, sucking her thumb and playing with Billy's favorite race car. Her wet, chubby fingers made the blue Camaro shine brightly with spit and Billy felt like his face was burning up.

"Hey," He said, rubbing at his eyes. "Hey, you're getting spit all over my--"

"Race car!"

Max held it out to him triumphantly. Billy frowned, moving to grab it from her chubby little fist. "I know that's my race--"

"It's a blue car," Max said thoughtfully. She looked at him, like, "Blue cars are my favorite."

"It's my favorite too--"

"Can we share?" Max wondered, putting the little wheels on Billy's knee and letting the car zoom back and forth. He imagined that Evel Knievel was in the drivers seat wondering why his car wasn't first in the race.

She looked happy, like always, to be playing with Billy's toys.

He sighed. "Yeah, I guess we can share. It's Valentine's Day."

Max seemed to enjoy that. "I like today!"

"You do?"

"Yup," She said happily, little chubby fingers tangling in Billy's hair because he hadn't brushed it yet. "Candy and sour gummy worms and kisses from cute boys!"

Billy glared. "You're kissing cute boys?"

"Uh-huh!" Max hollered. "Lucas gave me a dandelion."

Billy thought long and hard.

About Valentines Day and all the things that came with it. The pink shirt that hung pressed in his closet, fresh cupcakes with plastic rings, a bag of Scooby-doo Valentines Susan had picked up at the market for all his classmates, homemade love hearts at the bottom of his backpack. Three with red foam, one with a delicate lace doily, and.

Kisses.

Max was getting flowers and kisses from a boy.

From someone special.

Billy took the race car from Max's hand and drove it around, thinking about boys with brown eyes and soft hands.

Maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine.

"Wanna eat some breakfast, Max?"

"I had 'nanas." She said with a smirk.

Billy hummed, standing to get dressed. "Mama probably made chocolate chip pancakes, you don't wanna eat something special?"

Max's little red eyebrows pinched together. "I can have yours?"

And.

Billy didn't know what was so necessary to her about taking everything that was his. Playing with his toys, sleeping in his pj's, eating his breakfast, it was like Max didn't know how take something and make it her own.

Billy pulled the pink shirt over his head, feeling every bit like a turtle when Max did the same with the collar of her dress.

"You can have my pancakes." Billy concluded, puffing out his chest. "If you'll be my Valentine."

"You don't have a boy to kiss?"

"I might," Billy picked the race car off the ground with a smile. "This is practice for when I see him at school. So, will you be my Valentine?"

She thought about it.

Long and hard, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, before nodding with her entire body. "I think he will."

Billy sighed. "Really?"

"If you give him sour gummy worms and smooch his forehead he will," Max said.

And.

Maybe things would turn out okay. Billy nodded, grabbing the race car and driving it across Max's forehead, careful that the little plastic wheels didn't get stuck in her hair.

From the stucco ceiling of the classroom beautiful strands of silver and gold hearts painted a mirage of stars.

All the desks had a rose and a cardboard mailbox intended for the delivery of Valentines and at the center of the room a table filled with cupcakes and strawberry Capri-sun packets. Preparation for the party this afternoon, and.

Mr. Talamantez had turned their space into a glittering, perfect fairytale.

Billy hugged his basket of Valentines close to his chest and tried not to search for Steve before dropping his backpack at the cubby station.

He was right in the middle of tugging his special sweater down over his head when Barbara scooted in next to him, pretty in a little pink jumpsuit.

She handed him a tiny, delicate giftbag full of chocolate hearts and dinosaur erasers, smiling from ear to ear as Billy hugged her nice and tight before handing off something he had made special. A tiny paper crane his mommy helped him fold, and a bunch of rainbow goldfish sat nestled in a basket of paper Mache.

They were her favorite snack in the whole world and Barbara was Billy's favorite person, so it seemed fitting.

She hugged him and Billy smiled, peering around the room for a head of wavy brown hair. "We could share our presents with Steve," He muttered, like. It wasn't a big deal or anything. Billy tugged on the sleeves of his red sweater and tried to stay cool. "Where is he?"

Barbara pointed to the book shelves.

Steve was sat under a string of twinkly lights, shoulders tucked against the pillows Mr. Talamantez set aside for circle time. His face was buried in the crook of his elbow, and.

He was crying.

Of course he was crying.

Billy felt the Valentine in his pocket grow heavy.

Barbara said, "Steve broke his glasses, maybe you could make him smile?"

And.

Billy wanted to do that. Longed to make Steve giggle and chirp with happiness like the annoying little Meadowlark he seemed be. It would be so easy to. Walk over there, tap Steve's shoulder, and say the words.

Pose the question.

Will you be my Valentine?

Steve was making huffy, nervous little noises when Billy came to a stop beside him.

"Hey Harrington, playing with all your friends?" Billy sneered, confident that Steve would giggle like he was did, but.

When he finally turned around his face was red and puffy. As if he'd been crying all morning and all night, too.

"What do you want, Billy?" Steve whispered.

He sounded sleepy. Spread thin, like the last spoonful of jam on burned toast.

"What's wrong?" Billy asked carefully. "What happened?"

Steve sat and rubbed at his eyes, chin wobbling as more tears spilled over. "My daddy broke my glasses." He whispered.

And Billy hated it.

He always hated when Steve cried but today. Right now, he.

Felt like he had to do something about it.

Billy took the love heart from his pocket and sat down next to Steve, cuddling back into the pillows until their shoulders were touching. It took all of five seconds for Steve to settle in next to him. Roll his head back against the wall until he was looking at Billy with a question in his eyes.

Steve looked at Billy's shoulder and back up at his face, like.

"Can I--"

"Come here, stupid." Billy grumbled, Pulling Steve in until they were cuddling on the pillows.

Steve chirped. It wasn't his usual sound, light and airy, it was.

Thick.

And heavy.

Like a blanket sopped with rain water. Steve buried his face in Billy's neck. "I don't have any Valentines to give this year."

"That's okay."

"I made something special for you," Steve whispered, pulling back to study Billy's face. "I know Mr. Talamantez said we weren't supposed to, but--"

"Will you be my Valentine?" Billy's stupid mouth said.

Steve blinked at him, and.

Billy wanted to hide in the bathroom for thousand years.

Steve pulled away to sit crisscross-applesauce. Facing Billy, like this was something important. "Huh?"

Billy mirrored him, tucking his hands away so they wouldn't shake when he held out the love heart.

It was pink. Big and bright and outlined with a white doily that Susan helped him glue around the edges. Billy had dug through Max's box of stickers for the one with Winne the Pooh, the one he'd been saving for someone special. Winnie was covered in tiny valentines, eating right out of a jar of honey with a butterfly sitting on his nose, and.

Billy had thought it was perfect.

He worked for hours on the font. The saying that made his mommy laugh when he read it to her; you're bear-y sweet. Be my Valentine.

Steve took the love heart in his hands, and.

Didn't say anything.

Billy frowned. "I just. Remember you asked me to be your Valentine, or. For you to be mine. And--" His hands were shaking again. "It's stupid. God, this is--"

Steve leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

It was gentle. Like the brush of butterfly wings, barely there and then gone before Billy had a chance to really register the movement, or. Think about what it could mean.

Steve wasn't crying anymore when he said, "I'll be your Valentine."

Billy's brain took a minute to catch up. "Huh?"

"I'll be your Valentine, Billy." Steve giggled, staring down at the love heart once more. "This is so cute. I loved Winnie the Pooh when I was a baby. My mom always put me in footie pajamas that had Eeyore on them. And tinker bell too, sometimes. You could've put the Red power ranger on there instead. He's my favorite--"

Billy sat back against the pillows.

He was learning that Steve Harrington was weird.

Like a puzzle with one piece missing, or. An empty tube of bubble mix. Steve was colorful and loud and all over the place with opinions. He shined bright and loved hard, and.

Sometimes it was best to sit back and listen.

Happy Valentines Day!!

I really just sat down and wrote this. Wow. Anyway--thank you for reading and supporting my work. Your comments and endless kindness keep me going when I don't always feel like trucking on, and I wanted to do something to remind you that if this was an elementary school classroom I would give you so many lollipops.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #valentines day #first kiss #kidfic #soft billy hargrove #I know I'm late #but I love ya #and I will everyday #so really #everyday is valentines #not to be a fucking sap #but it;s true

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tooweirdforyou · 3 years

Text

Chapter One » Target

A/N : obviously my starting out isn’t going to go well but I’m sure it’ll get better, hopefully. Let’s just hope! And enjoy!

and I know I mentioned who would be included in here, but I’d like to know your thoughts if there are any characters you wish to have as love interests! :> it’s so I can confirm and get an idea.

Masterlist | Chapter Two

MULTI-BILLIONAIRE CEO PASSES ON — [LASTNAME] INC. TO FALL?

“[Name] [LastName]? I heard her father passed away last week.”

“No way, the [LastName] corporation is bound to fall without their CEO, what’s going to happen now? Is she going to take over?”

“She’s so young, I doubt they’ll hand everything to her. She doesn’t have the backbone to handle it.”

Walking past the gossiping pair, you tilt your head to the side and after a minute of walking, your shoulders relax and you heave a sigh.

“People don’t have anything better to do but gossip.” You thought, expression holding a look of disinterest, as you glance down at your necklace.

The only memory you had of your mother.

It was a simple, small and cylinder-like key, silver and hooked onto a thin silver chain. As if it was some sort of screw, in other words. Too bad you never found out what the key actually led to or unlocked.

Not like you actually looked around though.

If it wasn’t the last thing you had of your mother, you probably would’ve thrown it away by now.

Tucking the necklace inside your shirt, you make it to an ice cream stand on the street and stop in front of it, standing behind a tall ravenette.

It seems like it’ll be a while before the male would choose something though. You purse your lips and look to the side. ‘Maybe I should just go..’

“Oh, my apologies, miss. You can go on ahead, I’m actually waiting for a friend, I’m not in line.”

You look back to the male and found the freckled face smiling at you kindly. Blinking, you glance at where he was standing and where the vendor was, and felt a blush creeping up onto your cheeks. “Oh..”

‘So i’m just stupid.. idiot.’ You internally curse yourself before nodding at the tall male. “Er.. sorry. Thanks.”

He merely chuckles and waves it off, returning to his phone that was in his hand as you move ahead to the vendor behind the stand.

“What can I get ya?”

You ponder for a few seconds before stating what you wanted from the ice cream vendor. Once the salesman gets your desired ice cream, you hand the cash over to him and take the ice cream.

Gripping the fabric of your mask, you pull it down to your chin to reveal your face and lift the ice cream to your lips.

Thanking the man, you walk away and just as you proceed to take a bite, a sudden loud crash interrupts your process. ‘Gunshots?’

Screams erupt from people around, some quick to start running away, others freeze still in fear at the sight.

Before you could even do a thing, shouts are heard and running figures chasing after a speeding bike.

“Ace, it’s time to go!”

Amidst the shouts and screams, the motorbike pulls up near you and the freckled man from before is quick to hop onto the back, behind the one driving. “Marco? What happened?!”

“I’ll explain later, just get on!”

“Hey! Stop right there!”

“Don’t shoot, you can hurt the civilians!”

The blonde behind the drivers seat, his hair a little messy and half-lidded eyes, held a cigarette between his teeth clicks his tongue and revs up the gas. “Shit.. hold on!”

Just before they drove off, you made direct eye contact with the blonde for a brief second before he broke it.

With that, the bike begins to drive off with speed, the men in white-clad police uniforms with guns strapped on their backs continue to chase them before stopping in defeat once the motorcycle was out of sight.

“Damn it! We were so close to capturing one of the Whitebeard members!”

“Forget about it, we need to get back to headquarters. Let’s go.”

The men began to retreat back, you just standing still in shock at the event that just occurred and ended in like five minutes.

‘What the hell?’

Slowly biting your ice cream that was melting in your mouth and a bit on your hand, you look back at where the bike had disappeared to.

Your mind wanders back to the blonde from before. “What was with that look?.. Did he recognize me?..”

Muttering to yourself, you continue to eat your dessert, deciding to make way back to your place, before your father’s assistant could lecture you.

‘This is why I don’t leave the house.’

“Miss [Lastname], you’re back early this time.”

You plop yourself onto the couch of your living room once you made it and laid down, heaving a heavy sigh. “Yeah.”

Pulling off the black mask around your ears, you laid it on your chest and shut your eyes.

“Any particular reason?” The raspy, deep voice asks from the hall, coming into the living room and standing at the entrance, his eyes taking a look at your sprawled form on the couch.

Sitting up slightly to get a better look at the assistant, you watch him stare just as intensely back at you with his sharp dark eyes.

Axel.

The male was dressed in dress shoes, black slacks and a ironed white button up, with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. He had rounded, silver thin framed glasses that rest just above the bridge of his nose. His tousled black hair brushed over his eyes a bit, and if you didn’t know better, you would’ve assumed Axel was a CEO owner himself.

But he was nothing but an assistant to one. Or, formerly was. You were surprised he still stuck around after your father passed.

Keeping the eye contact for a few more seconds, you shut your eyes and turn onto your side, facing the backrest of the couch. “No, just didn’t feel like receiving a lecture from you.”

The scoff that escapes his lips is heard as his footsteps come towards you.

“You deserve my lectures, you always seem to forget them.” He says, picking up the mess of magazines on the coffee table and stacking them neatly together.

“I can’t forget something I don’t bother remembering, so— ACK!”

Axel is quick to roll up one of the magazines and whack the back of your head without hesitance, a slight scowl on his lips. “Perhaps you should start remembering then!”

You sent a glare to the older male and rub your head to soothe the pain, keeping shut to prevent yourself from possibly getting even more hurt.

“Now, come on. Get dressed so we can get going to meet the lawyers.”

Furrowing your brows, you look at him in confusion, watching him place the magazines away onto the shelf. “Lawyers, what for?”

He tilts his head behind him to glance at your expression. “Your father’s will. To confirm your inheritance of his belongings so you can be given all his things.”

“Ah....” You then lay back down with force and groan out. “No way! I don’t want to handle all that! Why don’t you just take it?”

“Take everything that the owner of the [Lastname] company owns? No, thank you.” Axel mutters, pushing up his glasses with his index finger from the side.

“You don’t want it?”

“I don’t think I’m capable of handling something like that, much less when I’m not supposed to in the first place. Besides, my hands are full with taking care of a helpless, troublesome, lazy-ass toddler.”

“Oh? Who?” You smugly feign innocence whilst turning away, causing Axel to roll his eyes as he brushes a gloved hand into his black locks of hair.

“Funny. Now, if you don’t get your ass up, Miss [Lastname],” he clears his throat loudly. “We’ll be late to discuss your father’s will with the lawyers.”

“You’re so mean sometimes.. what kind of assistant are you?”

Ignoring your sulking, Axel proceeds to walk away to start the car, but not before releasing a soft sigh at the female.

“What am I going to do with you?..”

- meanwhile

With the Straw Hats Crew «

“What do you think, Luffy?”

The navigator looks to their captain on the end of the dining table, rolling up the newspaper in her hand after reading the headlines aloud.

The male was busy shoveling meat into his mouth to listen but merely nods. “Sure! *omn nom* Sounds like an adventure!”

“God, you’re hopeless...”

The archaeologist lets out a little giggle. “He never ceases to amuse.”

“If we get our hands on that treasure, we can have everything?” The long-nosed questions, crossing his arms and the taller, Afro-wearing man laughs. “Yohoho~ how exciting!”

With the Heart Crew «

“The chance to have everything you could desire..”

“Wealth, power, love..”

The big polar bear in an orange-clad jumpsuit hums. “Should we try to acquire it, Captain? It won’t be easy.”

The doctor / leader of the group leaned against the wall silently, arms crossed as he thought about it, the newspaper headlines laid across the table.

“We’ll have to come up some plans to get it, considering we’ll have to make contact with her somehow.”

With the Kid Crew «

“To get the chance to have all power and money in the world, huh?” The red-head smirks dangerously as he listens to his right hand discuss the newspaper article.

“Think this through, Kid. Won’t be easy to capture the girl, and I’m sure we aren’t the only ones looking to get this treasure.” The masked blonde warns, but the red-head wasn’t listening.

“How unfortunate for her to have to experience such a thing, but I will get my hands on her and that treasure, no matter what it takes.”

With the Whitebeard Crew «

“I see..”

The tall, older, white haired man comments as he sits in his chair, hands resting in his lap.

“We actually drove by her on our way here after the run-in with the police. Eating ice cream.” The blonde says, shifting his weight and resting a hand on his hip.

“And you’re positive it was her?” A tall orange-haired male questions, wearing a yellow foulard.

The freckled man nods, smiling a bit. “I’m sure. She stood behind me in line, thinking it was to get ice cream.” He laughs lightly at the memory.

Another voice chimes in, belonging to a rather beautiful man with a sexy deep voice. “Well, if it truly is her, I guess we won’t have to look far. Question is, how we’ll get in touch with her again.”

The older, bigger man in front merely laughs. “Not a problem, my sons. Leave it to me.”

With the Police «

“It’s a danger to have that so carelessly around, if it lands into the wrong hands, we can have a tragedy.” The rice-cracker eating leader states, arms crossed as he stares hard at the picture of the female under the headlines.

“So you intend to confront her about her father’s belongings, then?” The old man on the couch of his office asks, picking his nose with disinterest.

“E-Excuse me, sir.. but would it be in the wrong hands.. if Miss [LastName] is supposed to inherit her father’s things?..” the pink-haired male shyly asks, sweating a little bit in fear of having interrupt the two.

“We don’t know for sure, that is why I insist we should hold her here for questioning and her intentions!”

With the Revolutionaries «

“It’ll be interesting, to say the least.” The blonde with goggles around his top hat hums, a smile present on his lips as he leans back in his chair.

The brunette female with a bright smile just sighs. “Thats for sure. No doubt that everyone will be having their eyes on that one of a kind opportunity. What should we do?”

“My, my, imagine being able to wield such power! No wonder her bounty is so high in the black market! Going for over a billion beli’s!” The extravagant purple haired man exclaims. “I must meet her face to face!”

“Ah— Achoo!”

Sniffling, you rub your nose and let out a sigh, groaning slightly.

“Oi, you better not be sick, Miss [Lastname]. We don’t need you to be catching a cold at this time. I’m not going to be taking care of you.” Axel warns, eyes lingering on you and you huff in annoyance.

“Shut up, Axel..”

taglist : @deputy-videogamer

a/n : hi! I’d love to know what you think of this so far and what you think of Axel! I might post this on Quotev as well but I can’t say for sure.

So it’s not great, but not horrible, but regardless, I hope you enjoyed it! :>

not proofread-

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op #one piece writing #Target #syd’s fic

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tv-fanfic-archive · 3 years

Text

Meet Cute

Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader | Masterlist | Ao3

Reader meets a man in a bar, takes him back to her hotel room, sex ensures, and then love?? Maybe. Fem Reader, no y/n, no body descriptions

Word Count: 3105

Rating: Explicit

Tags/Warnings: ABO, omegaverse, smut, feral Bucky (for a bit), creampie, aftercare, alpha bucky, omega reader, scent blockers, soulmates, AFAB reader

The smokey interior of the bar was cloying your mind with the mulled scent of old wood and booze. It was dark, the only light in the room came from dim yellow light bulbs in dingy fixtures along the paneled walls. You sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey and eyeing the options of the bar. At 11 PM everyone who was gonna be here was here already. You resigned yourself to the greasy guy shooting looks over to you every couple minutes when a cold draft blew in from the door. A newcomer was tromping over to the bar. His shoulders were hunched and he had the hood of a grey denim jacket pulled up to hide his face. Your well-trained eye saw right through that jacket; he was jacked, you knew it from the way he walked. Your attention instantly dropped away from the greasy guy and laser-focused on this newcomer (his scent was all straight alcohol anyways, disgusting). As he sidled up to the bar you turned your seat away to show off the side of your legs, crossing one leg over the other, letting your dress slip up a bit to expose the top of your stockings. He glazed over at your movement but turned back to the bartender. He pulled off his hood and ordered.

“Johnny Walker Black, neat.” His voice was reedy, low, and utterly perfect. He took a seat two stools over from you and rested his elbows on the bartop. Before he had a chance to get his drink and leave, you hopped over the two stools separating you and set your own glass down with a clink on the bar next to him.

“Hey there, handsome.” the drinks you’d been nursing since 9 were flowing steadily through you, instilling you with false confidence. His eyes slid up your body until they reached your eyes, a bored look firmly in place there. He looked away. Hard to get? You could almost purr at the challenge he presented.

Now that you were closer to him you could see his face better. Good lord, he was beautiful, but in a tired sort of way where you knew he’d fought with life and barely came through kicking. His eyes were the blue of an ocean after a storm and just as deep. Short brown hair in messy tufts from the hood. He brushed a hand over it to smooth it down and you noticed that his left hand was made of shiny metal. Your eyes followed it back down, then dragged your eyes up his body. He had to be strong under all those layers. Dark jeans and his thick denim jacket were attempting to hide his muscles but the way the fabric of his jeans stretched against his thighs let you know all you needed to. With the proximity, you also caught a whiff of his scent, leather, coffee, and something unfamiliar, gunpowder maybe, but you couldn’t quite tell, but his scent was entirely too muted. It was hard to get a good read on him through smell; you couldn't even tell his designation. Maybe he was playing the same game as you, you thought. A new product marketed to hide designations just hit the stores recently and you’d be practically bathing in the stuff every night you went out to avoid overzealous alphas trying to get you home without a fight just cause you were an omega.

“Let me buy your drink.” Putting your arms up to rest on the bartop, leaning over a bit, giving the bartender, and hopefully your prey, a better look at your breasts. The bartender set his glass next to yours. You looked up to him through your eyelashes and told him to put it on your tab then return your full attention to your prey. He picked up the glass and slid his gaze to you once more.

“Thank you,” he grunted

“So what brings you here?” You slipped your finger around the lip of your glass, keeping eye contact.

“Drinks.” One word kinda guy you guessed

“Nothing else?” Your pointed look was met with a quirked eyebrow and a chuckle

“Not originally, but things can change.” He sipped his whiskey, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

“Why don't we up the chances, huh?” With that, you knocked back the dregs of your own whiskey and motioned to the barman.

“Two zombies, please.” Then you said to the man “So what’s your name?”

“Call me Bucky.” He knocked back his own drink. You told him your name. The bartender sets two novelty skull-shaped cups in front of you. The tangy smell of pineapple and rum hits your nose as you bury your face in the cup. You were gunning for a fast buzz and you got it with this drink.

Soon Bucky was leaning closer to you as you chatted to him. Another round and his hand was on your thigh, squeezing on and off as you continued talking. Your two swivel stools had you facing each other now. Your legs were tucked between his, his hand moved to your knee and your faces were close as if he couldn't hear you. You made a motion for another round but the bartender cut you off and asked for payment for your tab.

“I guess that's the sign to get out of here, huh?” You slid your card over the bar and leaned heavily into Bucky. He got off the stool and you followed with only a small stumble. He caught your waist and kept his arm around you as you pocketed your card. The two of you left the bar only to be confronted by an icy wind. You shivered in your thinner dress. When you’d left the hotel room today it was warm; you hadn't expected this. It seems Bucky had, however, as he shed his denim jacket and draped it over your shoulders. His muted scent hit you at almost the normal strength. Your cloudy mind wondered at that for a moment before moving on.

“Such a gentleman,” You laughed

“Guilty as charged.” he smiled and put out his arm for you to take “Where we going, sweetheart?”

“My hotel room.” Leaning heavily into his arm, you led him down the street to your hotel.

----

At the door to your room, you fumbled with the keys in your cold hands. Bucky was pressed up against your back, mouthing over your neck, not helping your fight with the keys in the slightest. His lips dragged across the side of your neck, just barely grazing your gland, making you whine and close your eyes.

“I can't get the door open if you keep doing that, Bucky.” But there was no fight in your voice, with lips like those you’d let him do anything he wanted right now. But he left your neck and you were able to slide the key into the lock and open the door. Soon as the door shut behind you, Bucky pressed you up against it. Your mouths locked together in a down and dirty open mouth kiss. His metal hand was splayed out on your stomach while his other forearm pressed against the wood next to your head. You leaned back opening your mouth more to let his tongue stroke along your own. Separating for a moment, you panted, chest heaving. You dropped the jacket off your shoulders and pushed Bucky back. The room was so small that he stumbled back a few paced and hit the back of his knees on the bed, falling to sit on it. You walked up to him and turned around with your back facing him.

“Unzip me?” You felt his hands, one cold, one warm, on the skin of your back as he eased the zipper down to the small of your back. You shrugged off the dress and kicked it away, leaving you in your stockings and bra-panty set. Turning back around you straddled his thighs and ran your hands up into his hair, mussing it and pressing your mouth back to his. Your hands traveled down to his shoulders then scratched down his chest. He hissed at the tickle of your nails through his shirt. You grasped the bottom of his shirt and undershirt together and dragged them up, tossing both behind you. Oh yeah, your guess was dead on, he was jacked. Again you raked your nails over his chest, leaving red lines from his pecs to his defined v-line. You smashed your mouth back on his and pushed him down flat on your bed. He let out a huff as he bounced a bit before your arms caged his head in and he was locked back on your mouth. He brought his hands to your ass and pressed you down onto him. You moaned into his mouth and ground down to meet him, leaving a wet patch on the bulge of his black jeans. Slick was coating your thighs in response to all the action. In a moment of separation, Bucky scented the air and growled deep in his chest. You could feel it rumble against your chest, pressed so close against him as you were. Suddenly he rolled the two of you over so he was on top. He pushed you up the bed to hit your back against the pillows. His face met your stomach and he nuzzled up into your breasts. Quickly you fumbled at your bra strap, trying to get it off as quickly as possible. You shucked the bra and grabbed Bucky’s hair. He moved a hand up to cup one of your tits., rolling the flesh around in his hand and squeezing.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He groaned, his Brooklyn twang strong in those few words before his mouth was busied nipping at the flesh of your breasts, leaving little dark marks littered across your skin. Your head fell back and you whined. Your hands scratched at Bucky’s scalp, giving you his own hum of enjoyment at the feeling. Soon his mouth trailed down the valley of your breasts to the top of your panties. His metal hand picked at the elastic band and let it snap against your skin causing you to jolt at the sting.

“Can I get these off you, doll?

“Yes, please, just do it.” You breathed, your voice quiet and rough. He slid your panties down and off and buried his nose between your lips. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of his tongue slipping down to tease your hole. After circling for a moment, he zeroed in on your clit and sucked, leaving a little nip on it. Your hands shot down to grip white-knuckled at the roots of his hair. Bucky lifted his head from your center enough to speak, “You smell so good,” then dived back down, doubling his efforts and making your insides twist into knots. You could hardly feel your stomach at this point, it was a mess of taught, burning muscles that only one thing could defuse. Bucky’s metal arm came up around your thigh to part your lips, opening them up to an unfiltered onslaught by Bucky’s tongue. The metal was cold on your leg and you shivered. You brought a hand up to bite, desperately trying to ground yourself to something tangible while Bucky was blowing you out of this world. A few more seconds and the white-hot feeling in your stomach burst and your entire body went limp, a long whine escaped your throat and you shuddered uncontrollably. Your other hand pressed Bucky’s face to your pussy and you felt him run his tongue around your hole. Your grip released his head and he pushed himself up over your exhausted body. He caught your lips in his again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. When he pulled back you found yourself leaning forward, almost trying to follow his lips as he sat back on on the bed.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Of course I am.” you panted, still not having caught your breath from the back-to-back orgasm and heart-stopping kiss. “Are you okay?” your eyes wandered down to where he strained his jeans.

“Course I am” He lied down next to you. When you caught your breath and you moved to get on top of him again. The skin of your thighs was sensitive against denim. You reached up and raked a hand through his hair, connecting your lips together once again, reaching down with the other hand, you popped the button on his jeans. He sighed against your lips. #Working his jeans down off his thick thighs, he lifted his hips to help. Now just in his boxer briefs, you could clearly see the main prize of the night. Making quick work of his underwear, you freed his member. He kicked off both garments and raised his hands to grip your hips, canting them towards the head of his dick. You dropped your hips in turn and rolled them, slipping the shaft between your lips. He groaned, falling back out of your reach. His abs clenched. Finally, torturously slowly you dropped down, impaling yourself on Bucky’s thick dick. At the same time both, you hissed at the stretch and another low growl resonated from Bucky’s chest. He shot up from his back as he bottomed out, cradling your back and holding you down. He snarled, nosing at your neck and thrusting sharply up at a nearly frantic pace. With the breath knocked out of you, your hands scrambled for purchase on his back. Nails dug in in long lines leaving welts up the length of his toned back.

“Buckyyy” You whined “I can’t-” Before you could finish he pushed you down onto your back and hoisted a leg high over his hip,

“You can.” He growled, steadying himself on his knees before driving into you with short, quick thrusts designed to reach the finish line as fast as possible. With every thrust, you felt the spark being reignited, but from Bucky’s every movement you could tell he’d reach it before you did until he reached his metal arm down to the wet mess of your front, rubbing decisively up and down. You threw your arms up around his neck, yanking him down to your face and smothering him in a furious kiss. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting all the rum you’d shared before.

Bucky’s thrusts got slower, but deeper, harder, shaking your body in his arms and striking up against your deepest parts. A dull ache rose to mingle with the tightness of your pelvis. He released your mouth and buried his face in your neck, licking and nipping at your skin. His hand on your clit quickened, the tightness reaching breaking point as he took one last deep thrust into you before stilling, releasing his cum as deep as he could within you. A sharp bite on your shoulder sent you spiraling into your own release. Soft kisses over the bite mark brought you down slowly from your high. The feeling of him pulling out brought you sharply back to reality. It felt like what you imagined a bottle of honey felt like when drizzled over a nice stack of pancakes. Bucky sat back on his heels to watch his cum ooze out of you. You just lied back, catching your breath and watching him watch you.

After a bit, the afterglow was fading and leaving you feeling sticky and decidedly ready for at least a washcloth if not a full bath. You rose from the bed and, with Bucky trailing behind you, started up the hot water in the shower.

From either the drinks or the sex, the two of you were too tired to do anything more than rinse off the sweat and any other fluids accumulated before collapsing into bed and falling asleep.

#break

Sometime before the sun rose, you woke up. As you came to, you tried to extract yourself from Bucky’s arms that had wrapped you up in their tight embrace sometime while you slept. Still, in a haze of exhaustion, you decided waking him up wouldn't be worth the trouble; he’d roll over eventually and you get up and leave to catch your flight. But just as you’d vowed to stay awake, Bucky’s warm chest pressed up against your back rising and falling with his slow breaths lulled you back to sleep.

When you awoke again it was with your face pressed against Bucky’s chest. His arms were around your back now and his hands were rubbing smoothly against your skin. He was awake. Fuck. You’d meant to sneak out before he woke up so you wouldn't have to deal with the morning after talk. But as soon as you really shook the fog of sleep from your mind and took a good breath you realized, his scent blockers had faded to nothing. A flood of his scent washed over you. Still strongly coffee and leather based, but without the blockers you could pick out the more subtle notes of it, vanilla and a splash of some flower you couldn't place, but the most damming and important facet of it all was the unmistakable scent of Alpha, but not just any alpha, no there was something different there you’d never smelled before, something you’d heard of. It was intoxicating and indescribable. You took a deep breath, pressing your nose hard against his neck on instinct. Mate. That had to be it, nothing else could be as captivating, as perfect. You withdrew from his neck and cast your eyes up to his, a shaft of light from the window falling perfectly over his face, lighting up his eyes from within.

“D’you smell it?” he all but whispered, pushing you up his body to bring you to eye level.

“We’re…” You trailed off

“Yeah.”

“I was supposed to go to Japan this morning.” His face fell, eyebrows furrowing. His arms lifted off your back and he moved away from you until you pressed your lips hard against the spot right at the junction of his neck and shoulder, where a mating mark would go. A groan ripped from his throat and his hands returned to clutch at your hips.

“I’m gonna have to cancel it. D’you have a place in the city we can go?” You nipped at the spot

“Course. Got a place downtown. You can stay as long as you want, princess…”

“Mmm that sounds perfect” One last kiss to his gland and you pulled off. “We better get going then.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction #omegaverse

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vanillann · 4 years

Text

aphrodite and her son cupid (spencer reid x f.reader)

thank you for the request!!

word count: 2.1k

“What do you mean you broke down?”

JJ ran around the corner from her office, her stride larger than normal as she stepped to the center of the bullpen.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

JJ hung up the phone, a sigh falling past her lips as she tilted her head back to watch the ceiling closely.

“What’s wrong?”

Spencer and Emily had now walked up to standing on either side of the blonde, Emily placing a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder.

“Will was going to pick up Henry when his truck broke down, I would get him but I have so much paperwork that I have to have done by 6.”

“I’ll go get them.”

Spencer slowly raised his hand, almost like he was a shy kid in the back of the class.

“I don't want you-”

“I finished all my paperwork 1 hour and 6 minutes ago.”

JJ smiled, running back to her office quickly before returning with her keys held tightly in her hand.

“Thank you Spence”

Spencer smiled as he jogged out the glass doors of the BAU.

“Thank you for doing this again.”

A thick Southern accent filled the car as they pulled up to the last available parking spot at the school. Both adults stepped from the car, making sure to stand tall enough for Henry to spot them.

“I’m happy to help, plus it's part of my job as god-father.”

Will smiled, clapping a hand on Spencer's shoulder that caused him to fall forward slightly.

The sound of loud footsteps and yelling suddenly filled the field before them, kids running to their car or sitting in the grand waiting for their own.

Suddenly a small tuft of blonde hair emerged from the coward of kids, a woman holding his hand walking beside him.

The long skirt and multi-color headband reminded Spencer of a picture he had once seen of his mom from when she was a teen.

“Ms. (L/N),” Will pushed off the car and moved to the woman, giving her a bear hug.

“Will.”

Both pulled back from each other, Ms. (L/N) looking over Will shoulder to wave at Spencer.

“You must be Uncle Spencer.”

Spencer would never say it out loud, he was a humble guy, but he was proud that Henry's teacher knew who he was because that meant Henry talked about him a lot.

“Yes, I’m Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“(Y/N) (L/N), but try to use Ms. (L/N) around Henry. The entire first week of school he called me Agent (L/N).”

A giggle fell past Spencer's lips, causing him to look between the two with knowing eyes.

He might not be a profiler but he sure wasn't stupid.

“Sorry, he probably got a little too used to that.”

Henry stood beside Ms. (L/N) jumping off the balls of his feet.

“Uncle Spencer, did you know I have the highest reading level in class?”

There was that pride from earlier bubbling in his stomach, but it quickly left when he realized that Henry was still standing beside his teacher.

Henry always ran to Spencer to give him a hug.

“Uncle Spencer, today was national hug day.”

Will smirk to himself, he knew he raised his kid right.

“Really?”

Of course Spencer knew it was national hug day but he wasn't going to spoil the kids day.

“Ms. (L/N) said she was going to get as many hugs as possible, would you like to help her?”

“Henry,” Ms. (L/N) pulled on Henry slightly with a stern look.

God, it almost could beat Hotch.

“No it’s fine, I can never say no to him anyways.”

Without another word Henry was dragging Ms. (L/N) closer to Spencer, standing beside the two with eyes of awe.

Spencer looked back at Ms. (L/N), slowly raising his arm like he was about to waltz and arm stiff.

“You look scared, come here.”

Ms. (L/N) grabbed the arm of his blazer, slowly dragging him closer to her before he was closer enough to wrap her arms around his middle.

Spencer felt his body light on fire, the feeling of her fingers laid across his back had his mind racing at rapid speed.

Will stood against the car, the smirk gracing his lips as Spencer hand fell onto her shoulders softly.

Will squatted next to his son, holding his fist out.

Henry bumped his own fist against his dad’s, jumping up and down as he watched his Uncle Spencer smile.

Henry liked it when Uncle Spencer smiled because of something he did.

“I’m so sorry about today,” JJ sat next to Will on her brown leather couch, a glass of wine in her hand.

“Oh don't worry doll, it was good talking to Reid anyways.”

Will attempted to hide the smirk behind his beer bottle, looking at his wife with raised eyebrows.

“Spencer enjoyed meeting Ms. (L/N).”

JJ coughed the wine she was drinking back into her glass.

“No way, Ms. (L/N) doesn't seem like his type.”

Will shrugged, taking the last bit of beer and placing the drink on the coaster.

“He hugged her.”

JJ turned her head, watching her husband with wild eyes.

“He hugged her? Did he have a gun to his head!”

“Nope, your son was playing cupid.”

JJ smirk to herself this time, that sounded like Henry.

“Ms. (L/N) is way too adventurous for Spence, she jumped off a cliff once just so she could tell people she was the friend that jumps off the bridge.”

Will rolled his eyes, a smile on his lips as he watched the fireplace burn with passion.

“He could use the adventure in his life, the most excited thing that happens to that kid is getting PhDs and getting shot.”

JJ didn't mean to, she really didn't, but she snorted.

“That’s not funny.”

“Then why'd you laugh doll.”

JJ circled the corner from her office, walking into the bullpen with her nose in her phone.

“JJ!”

She looked up at the call of her name, the text from her mom would have to wait a minute.

“Spence?”

Spencer jogged from his desk, his long legs bringing him over to her quickly.

“I saw you had more files on your desk and I was wondering if you needed me to pick Henry up again. Sunday you mention Will works on Wednesday so,”

Spencer trailed off, suddenly breaking eye contact with JJ.

Oh my, he broke eye contact!

“Um- that's really sweet-”

“I'll leave now.”

Without another thought Spencer grabbed a set of keys from his desk, running out the glass doors of the bullpen.

JJ turned around, the shock written across her face as she watched Spencer back walk into the elevator.

“What’s going on?”

Emily's strong voice echoed beside JJ, the mug of coffee could be seen out the side of her eye.

“I think Spence has a crush on Henry teacher.”

“Afternoon Doc.”

(Y/N) leaned on the open window of Spencer beetle, a smile on her lips. Spencer heard the back door of his car open but didn't pay much mind to it.

“Ms. (L/N).”

“The past month you've been picking Henry up, did JJ and Will die?”

Spencer let out a giggle, now that had Henry falling into a fit in the backseat.

“No just Will has been having more work than normal and JJ is helping our tech analyst with finding cases.”

Ok so maybe at this very moment Will was definitely at home and JJ was laughing with Emily at her desk, but that definitely wasn't the point.

“Well I’m glad to see your back from the last case, Henry did not enjoy taking the bus Monday,” Ms. (L/N) tapped the side of the car and stood up to her full height.

“Ms. (L/N)!)

She slowly leaned back down, looking back at Henry who was jumping in their seat.

“For Parent Day, can I bring mommy friends!”

Shit, I’m one of mommy’s friends.

“If they can all make it there they are welcome, I’ll set them up a booth and every Henry.”

Henry was jumping up and down in his seat, a wicked smile across his face showing off his missing front tooth.

“Thank you Ms. (L/N), you're the best.”

She smiled and stood back up her full height, watching as Spencer quickly back out his parking spot and jumped on the bypass.

“Uncle Spencer, can I call mommy from your phone?”

“Of course Henry, look in the side pocket of my bag.”

Henry grabbed the bag that sat beside him, pulling out his godfather phone and finding his mom's contact.

He rang a few times before his mother's soft voice echoed through.

“Spence?”

“Hi mommy!”

He heard her laugh to herself, in the background sounded a lot like Aunt Emily, but there were much more important things right now.

“I did it mommy, I did!”

“That’s my boy.”

“Hotch, we need to be home this Friday.”

JJ stood in the middle of Hotch office, pleading eyes as she begged him to stay here and come to the school.

“I can't promise-”

“It’s just an hour or two, I really need this.”

Hotch looked up at the blonde through his eyelashes, looking at the stack of papers in front of him.

“I’ll see what I can do, but if it's serious we have to go.”

JJ smiled, blowing a kiss to Hotch as she left his office. Rossi stood outside the door, a smile large across his face.

“So-”

“Get ready for Operation Schoolyard.”

“Wow, do you have a gun?”

Hotch let a smile grace his lips, smiling at the kid who was asking Hotch a new question ever second.

“I do.”

“Come on guys, my family is over here.”

The team looked up to see little Henry dragging four kids over to the booth, pointing at the members of the team with a wiggling finger.

“Meet my mommy and my aunts and my uncles,” Henry said as he pulled on the skirt Ms. (L/N) wore.

“I know JJ and Doc-”

Doc?

So they had nicknames, this was more serious than they planned.

“- but it's wonderful to meet the rest of you.”

“You too, Pretty Boy here talks about you so much I knew we had to meet,” Morgan slapped a hand on Reid's shoulder, pushing him slightly from the spot he stood in.

“Awh, I’m honored to be a topic of conversation.”

JJ looked over her shoulder, Rossi giving a big thumbs up before looking at the kids.

“Wanna learn how to profile?”

Each kid nodded their head, Henry crossing his arm and looking up at his Uncle Rossi.

“I already know how Uncle Rossi.”

“I know kid, but we gotta teach your friends.”

Rossi turned back to the group of small children, each looking at each member with wide eyes.

“How about we use my friends Doctor Spencer Reid as an example.”

Spencer's eyes bugged out his head, turning to his co-worker with an expression of horror.

“Doctor Reid posture was the slightest bit hunched before Ms. (L/N) came over here, which means he feels the need to hold a nice image around her.”

Loud coughing came tumbling out of Spencer's mouth and Rossi would have felt horrible if he wasn't doing this for the greater good.

“Also Doctor Reid was talking louder before as well but now he is peeking quieter which shows he is nervous.”

Emily stood beside Rossi watching Ms. (L/N), she was shuffling her feet and wasn't making eye contact anymore.

“Wow, that's so cool,” one kid spoke before his eyes started wandering.

“Look it’s a dog.”

The fire department dog was bought through the doors of the gym, all five keys jumping from their spot and running as fast as they could.

Spencer's eyes stayed on his Ms. (L/N) as her hands dropped into one of her pockets.

“I’m sorry about that, first graders love dogs.”

“I was more a cat person,” Emily spoke before turning to look at the sweet teacher before her.

“I don't think I could keep something like that alive, maybe a fish?”

“I have a fish!”

Spencer's voice was high and his teammates tried to hide the smile, but that was something they had a hard time with at these times.

“Really?”

Spencer just nodded his head, his eyes blew and his shoe tapped against the gym floor.

“Well I’ve been looking into getting one-”

Her hand reached over, grabbing Spencers and placing a piece of paper in the middle of his hand.

“and maybe you could set it up.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bouncing as he nodded his head. She smiled at him and began walking to the group of kids who have surrounded the dog.

“Spencer, you don't have a fish,” Penelope spoke out for the first time in a while, standing in the back with a huge smirk.

“I’ll get one.”

cm tag list:

@itsarayofsunshine @m-n-m @aquarius-pisces-rose @victomizedbyreginageorge @avaxreid @erinxneil

#spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #bau #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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halfway-happyyy · 3 years

Text

She’s My Kind Of Girl

AN: this started as an idea of the lovely @bskarsgardlove92‘s and i kind of just rolled with it! i hope you enjoy, and as always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated!

synopsis: Alex dresses in drag to attend a costume party with his girl, as one half of Swedish superband, ABBA! Absolute fluff ensues!

“Though you may hail from a long and distinguished line of inexplicably talented thespians, I know you well enough by now to recognize when you're not telling me something.”

Alexander passed a serviette over the front of his mouth and swallowed back a bite of salmon, cocking an eyebrow in amusement. “I beg your pardon?”

She sipped deeply from her glass of chilled wine, and cocked her head to the side, eyeing him. “Don’t play coy with me, Alex. You were on the line with Eija when I came into the kitchen. That glint in your eyes says so much and then nothing at all in equal measure.”

“One could almost say that you know me too well, kid.”

"Almost," She grinned around the delicate rim of her glass. “Now spill it, Skarsgård.”

Alexander leaned back against the oak chair, dangling a long arm over the back of it. “Dad’s seventieth birthday is next month. Eija’s hosting a party back home for him, and she wants us to be there.”

She thought fondly of Alexander’s father often; he had been one of the first faces of his family that she’d had the privilege of meeting when her and Alexander had started taking things a little more seriously. Where her own father figure had been virtually non-existent most of the time, she was blessed to have such a wonderful father-in-law in Stellan. He was such an integral part of their lives that the thought of not returning home to Sweden to celebrate him was almost too much to bear.

“I’ll look into flights tomorrow morning. What kind of get together is it? I would imagine knowing Eija as I do, that she's got something wonderful up her sleeve?”

Alexander's lips curved up into a devilish smirk and he cocked his head to the side.

“She's hosting a costume party.”

There it was…

“God, I can only imagine the ideas that beautiful mind of yours has already dreamed up.”

Alexander tipped the rest of his wine into his mouth, his blue eyes glittering mischievously in the low light from the dining room lamp. “Hm, you know how much dad loves ABBA…”

It was the precise tone of his voice that she reckoned prepared her for what was coming next. “Oh boy,” She giggled under her breath.

“Well, I propose that we go as Björn and Agnetha.”

She mulled the thought of it over in her head, and then an idea swam into her mind's eye that caused a smirk similar to her other half's to tug the edges of her lips skyward. “I'll do it on one condition, my love.”

His eyebrow lifted in intrigue. “I'm all ears.”

“I will do it if I can be the Björn to your Agnetha.”

His laughter- utterly loud and booming, filled every square space of their home with a warm and joyous sound. When it subsided, he leveled his gaze with hers and she noticed immediately, the blush that had risen to the apples his cheeks. After a moment, he nodded his head finitely. “You've got yourself a deal, kid.”

She glanced at the watch face beneath the bell sleeve of her silver, sequined blouse, and sighed heavily. “C'mon dancing queen, we haven’t got all night…” Alexander emerged from the bathroom door a moment later, a blonde, perfectly styled wig fell below the cups of a filled-out bra.

“I must say,” He reached toward her to tousle the brunette wig atop of her head, a smirk in place on his features. “Silver and forest green sequins do wonders for you, kid. Or should I say- Björn.”

“Oh hush,” She giggled. “I can hardly imagine the outfit you’ve conjured up for this evening." They gazed at each other in silence for a moment before she gestured to her vanity. "Shall I do your makeup?”

Alexander shifted from foot to foot. “If you wouldn't mind,” He murmured.

She stood on tiptoes to twirl strands of blonde hair around her finger. “It would be an honour, Agnetha.”

She followed Alexander to the vanity next to their bay window and turned on the lamp so that it illuminated his face perfectly. Pulling up a photo of Agnetha on her phone for reference, she set to work. “She sometimes likes to wear bold colours on her eyes, so that’s the look we’re going for this evening.” She started the process by moisturizing and priming his face, opting out of a foundation, and using a tinted moisturizer instead. “Alright, close your eyes for me, my love.” He did as he was told, and she allowed herself a moment to admire how breathtaking he truly was. After a couple of seconds of searching, she found a palette that was made up of different shades of purple and applied a muted lavender hue over both of his lids. Wanting to go a little darker, she blended a violet shade into his creases and stood back to admire her handiwork. Nearly done, she decided to go dramatic on the eyeliner, but when she reached for her favourite tube of mascara, Alexander faltered.

“I don’t need… falsies?”

She blanched. “Alex, I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but your natural eyelashes are beautiful,” She took his face in her hands and gently turned it to the side, gesturing to his left eye. “Look how long and healthy they are. I think I have some cheap lashes lying around somewhere if you really want them, but I think a few coats of mascara will do wonderfully.”

He reached up to press his lips to the underside of her jaw, shaking his head. “No, I trust you.”

She kissed the tip of his nose and got back to work. “You’ve done magnificent so far. I’m just about finished…” She glanced around for her mauve pink lipstick, held a hand beneath his chin and applied the colour to his lips. “Alright, rub your lips together for me please.” She watched him do as she asked. “Now pat them together, as if you were smacking them.” She waited. “Alright, for the finishing touch,” She reached for her bottle of setting spray, told him to close his eyes, and let the mist settle over his face. “You my love, are finished and ready for the evening.

He leaned forward to inspect her handiwork closely, and a large smile grew on his face. “You’ve done a wonderful job, kid.”

She nodded towards the washroom door. “Go on then, Chiquitita. The party awaits.”

“You and your ABBA puns, huh?” Alexander smirked, before closing the door behind him.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Just wait until your brothers get a hold of us.” She snickered. While she waited for Alexander to wrap up, she began lacing up the white platform boots she had found weeks ago. They added an extra four inches to her height, and she fought back a giggle as she sipped the last remnants of her pre-game cocktail.

Ten minutes elapsed, and she began to feel the familiar tug of inebriation deep in her belly. Suddenly, Alexander cleared his throat. “I’m coming out. Are you ready?”

“I’ve literally never been more ready in my life.” She deadpanned.

Alexander emerged from the washroom, and all she could do was gape at his figure as he stood poised in the doorway. Lord knows where, but he had managed to find a hot pink jumpsuit with a silver-sequined trim around the neckline and a heart-shaped cutout that showed off his adorable, trim bellybutton perfectly. He donned glossy, white boots on his feet that only added to his seemingly immense height. “Well, what do you think?” He asked, dubiously.

She swallowed hard. “I have lots of feelings about it actually… but our car is here, and your father awaits.” She held her arm out for him to take. “Shall we go, my beautiful Agnetha?”

Alexander accepted her arm gratefully and bent down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Lead the way, Björn.”

“What are your brothers going as?” She asked, as they slid into the backseat of the sedan.

“Uh, I think Bill and his family said that they were going as Disney characters. Gustaf and Valter are going as Top Gun’s Maverick and Goose, respectively,” He paused so that they could share a laugh at that. “And I’m not sure yet what Sam and his family are doing.”

She scratched contemptuously at the back of her head. “I hate this wig already.”

Alexander snorted into his drink. “But it looks so good on you… the way it kind of frames your face in that ‘the 70’s called and they want their hair back’ kind of way…”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s the heart-shaped bellybutton window for me.”

Alexander guffawed loudly. “Oh really? We're playing that game? Well then, it’s the extra four or five inches that you’re wearing but you still don’t reach past my sternum, for me.”

They rounded the corner to Stellan’s street, and laughter bubbled up out of her mouth like a song. “It’s the fact that you look better than most women I know, for me.” This sent Alexander into such a frenzy that she paid the driver herself. “Alright, Agnetha, I have a dream and it involves you exiting this vehicle tonight,” She nudged his back to get him out of the open car door. “Let's go, girlfriend.” They ambled up the pathway hand-in-hand and stood giggling in front of Stellan’s door. Roaring laughter and bits and pieces of broken Swedish and English conversation could be heard from inside as her finger hovered above the doorbell. “You ready?”

Alexander nodded, finitely. “Go on then,”

She rang the bell and waited for what felt like years, before the door flung open and Eija greeted them in a demure, feline costume. Her face was disbelieving at first, but then her painted-on whiskers twitched; she cracked and laughter roared from her belly in happy waves. When she could speak again, she shook her head gleefully. “Come in, come in you two. What an honour to have one half of the world’s greatest band with us!” She ushered them into Stellan’s lively home, the scent of a freshly-cooked feast hung tantalizing in the air, and made her mouth water hungrily. “Just wait until papa sees you!” She clapped her hands merrily, pulling them into the adjacent living room.

Their entrance caused mass hysteria; pure laugher on a level that was hard to fathom. Gustaf approached them first, a pair of sunglasses sat perched atop his head, and he was sporting a mustache. Clad in a pair of army-green coveralls, the badge on his chest simply read, ‘Gus.’ “I have to say that when Alex first told me what the two of you were planning, this was not what I had in mind…” He scratched absentmindedly at the bridge of his nose, his smile wry. “But you two absolutely knocked it out of the park. Well done, brother.” He belly laughed, and wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulders, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I can’t wait until dad sees you.”

Valter appeared before them next, clad in the exact same costume as Gustaf accept that his badge read, ‘Maverick’, and he had on over his blue eyes, a pair of mirrored Rayban aviators. “Mamma Mia, Agnetha! Such lovely bosoms you have!”

A hand appeared out of the abyss and sneaked its way toward Alexander’s ample breasts, but the younger Skarsgård's plan was foiled before he could get there with Alexander slapping it away just in the nick of time. “Touch them and die, Valter.” He beamed, devilishly.

Valter's grin was sheepish. “My apologies Agnetha- Björn.”

She tossed a wink his way. “Turns out she can take care of herself just fine.”

“Alright, alright, where are they?” Stellan’s achingly familiar voice- unmistakable anywhere, boomed throughout the room. When he caught sight of them, he stood stock-still and tilted his head back, his rolling laughter loud and genuine. It caused pleasant goosebumps to rise in waves over her arms, and she couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “This is it,” He announced. “I couldn’t dare to ask for another thing after this. My eldest boy and his love coming in drag as Agnetha and Björn? This is seventy, folks!” He closed the distance between them to wrap them both in a crushing bear hug. When he pulled away, his eyes were glittering brightly beneath the low light of the many lamps scattered around the living room. “How unbelievably wonderful it is to see you both here.” He kissed both of their cheeks over again, his smile wide and utterly contagious. “On a totally unrelated note- that you and Björn here have similar situations happening… ehm, up top, is really quite miraculous, isn’t it?”

Alexander rolled his azure eyes, laughing loudly at that. “Happy birthday, dad.”

“And what a wonderful birthday it turned out to be. Come, come. We have much to discuss.”

The night carried on in much the same fashion; drinks were had (and spilt), laughter was shared, pictures were taken- and all the while, she just felt unimaginably blessed to be a part of it all. Closer towards the evening’s finish, she felt Alexander’s hand tighten around her own, and she knew then, without a shadow of a doubt that this was her family. This was where she belonged.

#literal ICONS #who doesn't love little ABBA??#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard oneshot #alexander skarsgard drabble #drabble #writing #fluff #alex sstuff

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chil2de · 3 years

Note

Hi just wondering if you’d ever consider writing for chuuya from bungo stray dogs and nishinoya from haikyuu. I love them both so much and you’re my favourite author and I’d really love to see how you’d write for them if you’re up for it

sorry @ all my other fandoms it’s literally the way i dropped everything to write this LMFAO

hiya!! i’m sosos happy this came through i remember a while back a lovely anon requested dazai from bsd and i completely forgot about it so aaaa!! so sorry if you’re reading this that anon! but nevertheless! i really, really adore chuuya and this is in fact my first time writing for bsd and chuuya for that matter. i’m so flattered anonie, thank you <3 i hope i done him justice :) p.s: i got a little bit carried away and was planning to post nishinoya in this one too but.. yeah. be sure to look out for him cause i’ll post a separate piece for yuu! enjoy.

nsfw content below! if you’re new here, please read my disclaimer here before proceeding. thank you!

a note: logically, this fanfic makes no sense because chuuya doesn’t wear his sexy vest + hat outfit until after dazai has left the port mafia so... don’t think about logic, k? (i think so anyway? it’s been a while)

there’s a clink of ice dragging against glass that chimes through the air. inside the glass seems to be a transparent liquid of sorts, leading anyone of the ordinary to believe that it may at least be vodka. in actuality, it’s just lemon flavoured water with some ice. it’s not like anyone would pick up his drink to take a sip anyway-

“oh? it’s not vodka? ehhhhh, are you trying to look cool, chuuya?” dazai takes a bold swig of the beverage before setting it back down onto the coaster. he bears a large grin that stretches from ear to ear, eyes lightly fluttered shut as he hums sardonically. there’s a spring in his step as he traverses beside chuuya and hops himself up onto the window, legs dangling and ankles fluttering.

“what the hell do you want?” chuuya barks, eyebrows creasing in disgust.

“what do i want? hm. like right now? you know.. i could probably go for some coffee right now! a cappucino? no- maybe latte? oh, wait, what about a flat white-“

“dazai.” chuuya hisses, spinning around from his chair to face him.

“seriously. cut the bullshit. why are you here, huh? i’m not having a tea party with you, so if you’re here to waste my time, leave.”

“ugh, you’re always so to the point. a little smalltalk and banter never killed anyone.”

“it killed my brain cells. spit it out.”

“chuuuyaaa~ you’re so meaaaan!”

there’s a scowl that chuuya pierces through dazai so heavily to the point where the latter is forced to drop his foxy act.

“we’re taking a woman in for questioning. she refuses to stay anywhere that’s not a proper bedroom, said that she’s more than willing to comply otherwise.”

“pffft, what a fucking stuck-up princess. so what? you’re sticking me with her?”

“believe me, you’ll thank me. i can’t take her. i’m out on a job in a few.”

“i’d never thank you but alright. i just have to keep an eye on her until tomorrow?”

“even you won’t be able to screw this up.” dazai remarks as he slides off the window, straightening himself before beelining towards the door.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean? you tryna say something?”

“uh-huh. anyways! see you later.”

as dazai heads outside, he takes one last glance at chuuya from over his shoulder.

“alsooo, can you keep the noise down to a minimum? everyone knows your name here already-“

“shut up!”

“yeah, okay~”

the door quietly shuts with a thud and chuuya leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling for a while.

within a couple of moments, he notices the shuffling of footsteps outside his room. instead of looking like a moron who fell asleep with his eyes open, he swings around to his desk and continues to gloss over the details of his next job.

an unfamiliar feminine voice rings out from behind him, causing his interest to peak.

“oh, um, thank you!” you awkwardly bow to the guards? the uh, big scary people with guns? (probably guards) who escorted you up to the room. you take a step inside and let out a small squeak before the door behind you shuts.

and locks.

“eh?”

“what’s with the ‘eh?’” chuuya snorts, not making the effort to turn to face you just yet. he goes to take a sip of his drink and wrinkles his face in disdain when he realises the being that tarnished it beforehand. using his right hand, he crosses over his left and effortlessly pours the beverage out the window. you only gawk at him with utter confusion. couldn’t he have just gotten up to go to the kitchen or something? do they even have a kitchen?

you conclude that standing around stiffly and eyeing the man at the desk isn’t a good look on you, so you move towards the bed. sure you said you wanted an actual room, but, you didn’t think it would be someone else’s.

“may i?” you motion towards the bed. chuuya briefly flickers his attention to you in his peripherals.

“sure.”

you scoot onto his bed, making yourself comfortable. you slide your back up against the wall, leaning yourself into the wall on your right as well. you decide to glance out the window, counting by the different coloured cars in hopes for either time to pass or the mafioso man to offer you some form of entertainment. maybe a book? oh, shit, uno cards? can you even imagine playing uno with him? this guy would flip his desk before the first round’s finished.

you laugh to yourself, and within a split second, you immediately lament your existence.

“what’s so funny?” chuuya implores, setting his pen down. you haven’t even turned yet and you can feel his gaze burning holes into you.

“nothing.” you blurt out.

his sigh fills the room as he picks up his chair before setting it down beside you. chuuya slumps down with his legs spread apart, torso cradling the back of his chair.

his slender and bony hand reaches out, ice cold fingertips from his beverage send you into a state of alarm as he clasps your chin before yanking your head to face him.

“i don’t tolerate bullshit. quite frankly, i won’t repeat myself to you.”

“the least you can do after strolling in here like a prestigious brat is listen to me. i don’t know what shit you pulled to get involved with the port mafia but-“

chuuya grazes his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down. he peers down at your teeth and the beginning of the pink in your mouth.

“what were you snorting about?“

there’s a desire that fuels your extremities and every nerve in your body. you don’t know why, but fuck, this man makes you wanna act like an intolerant brat. and you think, what’s the harm? if you’re gonna get picked apart by the port mafia, you might as well start early.

and bonus points? he’s hot as shit.

“that’s none of your business, is it?” you grin over his finger, valiantly lapping and curling your tongue before circling the muscle over the tip of his thumb.

chuuya screws his face at you. his eyebrows furrow in turmoil at the blatant disrespect and the corners of his lips crinkle in distaste. your eyes lock with his deep blue orbs and you smirk at the arousal that glosses over them.

chuuya uncurls his hand from your chin before easily kicking aside his chair. it goes clattering halfway across the room.

“down on your knees.” chuuya snaps, tone deep and laced with danger. you oblige, scooting off the bed as fast as humanly possible before settling down onto your knees.

you eye chuuya as he grabs ahold of his belt. he’s extremely short, for one, so you can see why he’d ask you to sit like this. he’s slender, but not underweight. there’s obvious implications of built muscles along his body, especially his thighs and arms. there’s something about the black fingerless gloves that rock against his smooth and pale skin that makes your stomach stir.

“what are you staring at?” he hisses before tossing aside his belt.

“isn’t that obvious?” you remark, licking your lips.

chuuya flashes you a smirk before zipping his fly open. using his gloved dominant hand, he decorates your face by slapping his thick dick against your cheek. his cock is piping hot against your face. you swallow with anxiety when his size is made apparent to you. he’s got a girth that’s wider than average, with a length of around 7 inches. maybe 8? you’re not exactly sure. you lick your lips at the deep red tones that flush his pretty cock.

“i’ll wipe that shitty attitude clean off your face. you’re reminding me of that dumbass clown.”

“eh? an ex or something? you’re bisexual? that’s freaking amazing! happy pride mont-“

“shut the fuck up. you spew way too much.” chuuya barks before shoving his cock down your throat mid-sentence. you gag and sputter around his length, fuelling his ego.

he grabs ahold a fistful from the back of your head, using your strands to roughly pick you up and back onto his cock. your wrists scramble to his hips and you try to push him back, to whimper that it’s too much and too sudden for you.

“where’s that cocky big girl attitude gone now? you can’t suck a dick? almost makes me feel bad for you.”

you whine and spill muffled complaints but it only fuels him further. it sets chuuya’s veins ablaze, controlling you like this.

you weren’t even sure it would be possible, but he manages to brush his tip against the back of your throat. your vision blurs, tears streaming out from your gag reflex. your nose runs and you can only sniffle constantly. drool and saliva envelopes the underside of his shaft, leaving your chin and some of your neck soaked. you wrinkle and wince your nose at the small stubble that’s slowly beginning to grow back near his base. through your tear stained lashes, you look up at chuuya like the good girl you are, lips wrapped around his dick and all.

“oh you god damn kinky bitch” he hisses out through a whine, features melting in compassion.

in that moment, recollection flashes in his eyes. he slides himself out, and a loud wet slurp fills the room. through your blurry vision and fit of coughing, chuuya grabs the long abandoned chair, spinning the back support until it lands the right way. he takes a seat, cock painfully erect and glistening in the deep orange sunset light.

his slender and pretty long fingers curl in a “come here” motion. his other hand leans into his jaw and he bears a smug grin. the harsh lighting from outside pours in so that only half of his face is visible, even then, you can still make out the fact that he’s about to absolutely fucking ruin you.

“ride me.”

#fun fact: today i found out i share the same personality type as okkotsu yuta #it’s a sign for marriage😔🤚#hsbdhfs i hope i wrote him well <3 thanks anon for the request!#bsd #bsd chuuya #bsd imagines #bsd headcanons #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #chuuya fluff #chuuyabsd #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Four)

Summary: Jack finally comes to the conclusion that he needs some help with his off-the-books investigation. Unfortunately, the only person who can help him is Agent (Y/L/N), the woman who hates his guts.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Four Stark Mansion, Los Angeles (Previous Chapter)

Just once, it would be nice for something to work out in my favor, a frustrated Jack thought to himself, just once. After weeks of searching through countless Los Angeles telephone books, he’d finally made contact with an old Navy buddy from the war that could help him with his ongoing off-the-books investigation. Unfortunately, the man turned out to be absolutely useless; though he’d been an assistant codebreaker on a battleship for several years, Seaman Luther Pulver hadn’t a single clue as to what sort of code was written in Peggy’s ‘uncovered’ file, the file that chronicled her supposed war crimes and the one that had been gifted to him by Vernon Masters. And to add to Jack’s growing annoyance, Pulver had innocently suggested he get into contact with a Bletchley Park codebreaker for assistance, unaware that the Chief of the New York SSR worked not twenty feet away from one and that she hated his guts with a fiery passion.

Since their contentious confrontation outside the bank a month earlier, Agent (Y/N) (Y/L/N) had avoided Jack like the plague and flat-out refused to utter a single word to him or even acknowledge his presence; if she for some reason had to directly address him, then it was with an icy demeanor that even Dottie Underwood couldn’t match. He’d never say it out loud, but (Y/N) intimidated him just as much as she annoyed him, and the thought of having to grovel to her to continue his investigation caused his stomach to twinge unpleasantly.

“Chief Thompson! I didn’t realize that you were still awake…” Jack glanced up from his scotch to see Edwin Jarvis standing in the doorway, dressed in red tartan pajamas with a glass of milk in his hand. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, I was just going over some case files.” Jack downed the rest of his scotch and contemplated the butler. “Working for Stark, you must have a lot of experience dealing with dames. Do you mind if I ask you for a little advice?”

Jarvis’ eyebrows rose almost comically. “I feel I must remind you, Chief Thompson, that I have been most happily and faithfully married to Ana for nearly five years, and-”

“Keep your pants on, Jarvis, that’s not the kind of advice I’m looking for.” Jack chuckled at the flustered expression on the butler’s face. “I need this one dame’s help with something at work, but she’s not exactly my biggest fan at the moment; how do I get her to help me without pissing her off even more?”

“Well, I may not know all the facts of this situation, Chief Thompson, but the first thing I suggest you do is refrain from calling this young lady a ‘dame.’” Giving Jack a reproachful look, Jarvis walked across the sitting room lowered himself into an armchair across from him. “And with that in mind, I would ask her politely for her help while simultaneously pointing out that she’s the only person on the face of the earth who can possibly help you. Now, I observed during our dealings with Mr. Stark’s stolen inventions last year and the Zero Matter business several weeks back that you fancy yourself a hardened detective. I also observed that you have a quick temper and foul disposition whenever you’re slighted or wronged.” Jack opened his mouth to argue, but Jarvis merely held up his hand as he continued. “If you really require this young lady’s assistance, then the only piece of advice I can truly give you is to be anything but your usual, ah, charming self.”

Rolling his eyes, Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You done insulting me, Jarvis, or you got a few more jabs saved up for emergencies?”

A coy smile played on Jarvis’ lips as he stood. “Working for Mr. Stark has taught me the importance of stockpiling ammunition; I believe the same could be said for witticisms. If you excuse me, I’ll be off to bed now, Ana will be missing her glass of milk.” With a tiny inclination of his head, Jarvis walked out of the room, but not before calling out over his shoulder, “I wouldn’t underestimate Miss (Y/L/N) if I were you, Chief Thompson, she’s as fierce as she is intelligent.”

Listening to the butler’s retreating footsteps, Jack couldn’t help but smirk at Jarvis’ words; when he was released from the hospital, Jack was extended an invitation from Howard Stark to stay at his Los Angeles mansion with the Jarvises and seeing no other option, he’d reluctantly accepted the offer. But the unusual couple had inexplicably grown on him; Jarvis was full of stories about his adventures as Stark’s butler and Ana cooked with the skill of a world-renowned chef. Things could’ve been a lot worse, Jack thought to himself, I could be shacking up with Sousa and his god-awful snoring.

But Jarvis had been correct about one thing: if Jack wanted to move forward with his investigation, he needed to try and win the SSR’s top codebreaker over to his side, even if that meant changing his entire attitude towards her and her profession.

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

“This better work, Thompson.” Jack muttered to himself before entering Lou’s Diner; the restaurant was moderately empty, save for a handful of occupied booths, and Jack was pleased to spot the back of Agent (Y/L/N)’s head near the end of the diner. Squaring his shoulders, Jack made his way over to her booth and spoke as he lowered himself into the seat across from her. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Agent (Y/L/N), but Sousa was yakkin’ my ear off back there. So, what’s good here?”

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed dangerously, but Jack kept his seat and pleasant mood. “I’m here on assignment, Chief Thompson, so why don’t you go take a long walk off a short pier?”

Jack nodded in understanding, ignoring her snarky jab and the swell of irritation that followed. “Your informant’s name is Jonathan Grant Williams, right?” (Y/N) blinked in surprise. “You see, my cousin’s name is Jonathan, my middle name is Grant and Williams was the name of my commanding officer in the Navy; I guess you’ve never read my file, huh?” He grabbed a menu off the table and began flicking through it; try as he might, he couldn’t deny that he was enjoying pissing off the codebreaker. “I haven’t had a good corned beef sandwich since before the war. The ham and cheese sounds good, too…”

“So, you lured me here under false pretenses. That’s interesting.” Jack was a little relieved to see that she appeared calm, but that feeling quickly dissipated when he heard the unmistakable click of a pistol’s hammer being pulled back. “I’ll give you one minute to explain yourself, Flyboy, so you’d better start talking.”

Goddammit, Jarvis was right about her, Jack thought before quickly launching into an explanation. “You know all about the whole Zero Matter situation, right? Well, I kept that fake file Vernon Masters gave me to discredit Peggy and hid a copy of it at the SSR before I prepared to leave L.A.; lucky I did, too, ‘cause when I was shot, my would-be killer stole the original file from my suitcase and left me on the floor of that hotel room to die.”

The fingers of her free hand began to impatiently drum against the top of the table. “Thirty seconds, Flyboy…”

“That file’s somehow connected to my shooting.” He insisted. “Someone knew I had it and didn’t want me investigating it, so they tried to have me killed. I wanna find out who’s behind all this, but I need you and your codebreaking skills to decode parts of the file for me.” Jack pulled the file in question out of his briefcase and placed it on the table before sliding it over to her, along with a small black light. “Here it is, if you don’t believe me.”

With a look of skepticism, (Y/N) put on her reading glasses, opened the file and began scanning its contents, using the black light to illuminate the redacted words and sentences; he was relieved to see that the longer she read, the less angered she appeared to be.

“Hey, Specs, you weren’t really gonna shoot me just now, were you?” The codebreaker didn’t answer, too engrossed by the file she was examining, and he exhaled loudly in obvious exasperation. “Well, that’s two women now who’ve threatened to shoot me this year…”

“Oh, really? I can’t imagine why; you have such a charming personality, after all.” She mumbled sarcastically under her breath. “Relax, the gun wasn’t even loaded. Whoever wrote these codes…they must be a genius.” Her eyes met his, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I’ve worked with some of the most highly skilled coders and codebreakers in Europe, but I’ve never seen anything like these before.”

Jack’s frown deepened. “But you can crack ‘em, right?”

“It’ll take time, of course, but I think I could.” She sighed and furrowed her brow as her eyes continued to scan the file. “These war crimes, though…Peggy could never have done these things to another person. Torture, dismemberment, mass execution of civilians…it’s deplorable. Besides, we were working alongside the Howling Commandos during the summer of ‘44 and we were nowhere near where these incidents occurred.”

He only half-listened to her words, far too excited that his investigation was finally taking off. His elation quickly turned to confusion when she stared back up at him with a horror-struck expression. “What? What is it?”

(Y/N) pointed at the top of the file. “This file’s about an ‘M. Carter.’”

“Yeah, pretty sure I already said this is a fake file about Marge. You know, Specs, you really need to work on your listening skills-”

“Would you just shut up and listen to me, Thompson?” She glanced around the diner and lowered her voice. “In 1940, Peggy’s older brother was reported missing in action and to this day, they’ve never recovered his body. His name…his name was Michael. Michael Carter. If this file is as real as you say it is, then Peggy’s brother not only survived the war but committed war crimes against Allied soldiers and innocent civilians for over five years.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Son of a bitch.”

His secret investigation had suddenly become even more complex than he could’ve possibly imagined.

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

A/N: Wow, what a twist! Thank you so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Five

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular @mads-weasley

#jack thompson x reader #agent carter #jack thompson #edwin jarvis #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve

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heximagines · 3 years

Text

Ambrose | Choose Your Own Adventure | 1B

{INTRO}

YOU LEFT THE GUN

As you retreat back into your cab to grab a pair of boots and pull them on over your bare feet you eye your gun. Part of you wants to keep it close by just in case but you’d scared the poor guy enough already. After a moment you decide to leave the gun, you think he can be trusted. You grab your backpack and shove your phone, charger, and a fresh bag of jerky in there. You think you’re all set so you grab your keys and begin to lock up the truck but just as you’re about to leave one last item catches your eye. You grab it and shove it into your bag before slamming the door shut and jogging up to the strange man’s truck. When you climb in he seemed relieved that you’re unarmed. “It should only take about 10 er 15 minutes to get there.” You give him a shy smile and nod. “Okay sounds good. I’m y/n by the way. Sorry I usually make it a habit to introduce myself before ya know, pointing a gun at someone.” He chuckles at that and smiles back at you. “I’m Lester. You don’t worry about it none. I’m sure you weren’t expecting to be woken up like that.” “Well it’s nice to meet you Lester, I appreciate your help.” Lester throws the truck in drive and sets off back up the road you’d been going down earlier. Your eyes peer out into the dark of the surrounding woods and you struggle to see anything past the tree line. Meanwhile Lester chews his lip nervously and begins to fiddle with the radio trying to get a signal to come in, finally the staticky signal clears up just enough to hear the twang of a country artist. “Oh!” Lester cranked it up. “Ya like Hank Williams Jr?” You laugh and nod. “Of course I do! Hey good lookin’, whatcha got cookin’? How’s about cookin’ somethin’ up with me,” you sing along to the muffled voice on the radio. “Yeah! That’s it!” Lester bangs his hand against the steering wheel to the beat before joining along. “I’m free and ready, so we can go steady, how’s about savin’ all your time for me?” You and Lester sing along to the radio up until the signal cuts out completely. As it does the glimmer of a street light lit up the road making you sit up in your seat. As the truck passes under it the cab is illuminated for just a moment and you turned to look at Lester. He still sports a little smile on his face and you’re thankful for the good company. It seemed like no time had passed when you roll past a big sign. ‘Welcome to Ambrose, Visit Trudy’s World Famous House of Wax!’ “World famous House of Wax huh?” Lester shifts uncomfortably and he gets an odd look on his face. “Yeah, nothin’ too special.” You giggle to yourself. “Not too special? It’s world famous!” Lester cracked a smile and laughed. “Well, I suppose you got me there.”

Once you drive a bit into town you’re greeted by a small gas station with a garage attached. Lester puts the truck in park before checking the time on the truck stereo. It’s 4:30am. You had a nice ride and aren’t looking forward to going back to sleep in your own truck, but it looks like that’s going to be the plan until the station opens. You both climb out and Lester goes about lowering your truck off of the tow. You wrap your arms around yourself as you watch, trying to keep the now early morning chill from your skin when suddenly you’re startled by a loud voice just behind you. “Lester! What do ya think yer doin’ lettin’ yer friend freeze out here without a jacket?” Lester’s head shoots up and his eyes are blown wide. You turn around to see a handsome tall man approaching. He’s dressed casually in jeans, a T-shirt, and a thick flannel. “Oh, hey Bo. I wasn’t expectin’ ya to be up this early.” The man, Bo, pays Lester no mind as he approaches you, taking off his flannel he holds it out to you. “Oh, no I’m okay really. I have a hoodie in my truck. Thank you though.” “Now, now no need to be shy. Go on.” He presses the shirt into your hands as Lester approaches. His eyes are darting between the two of you and if you were paying more attention you would have noticed the panic in them. Finally you slip the warm material over your shoulders and pul it around yourself. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Bo nods before looking to Lester. “What’s the problem?” A slight frown twists your lips and you have to bite your tongue. “Uh,” Lester looked back down at you “You said it was yer starter right?” You simply nod, deciding not to butt in despite it being your truck. “Well that shouldn’t be no big deal. C’mon sweetheart. Let’s get you inside and I’ll fix your truck up.” The mechanic turns his back to you and starts walking towards the station, expecting you to follow.

Lester gives you a wavering smile and grabs your bag from the ground, handing it off to you. “Do you, uh, you want me to stay?” You take your bag and sling it over your shoulder before shaking your head. “You’ve done so much for me already. I’ll be all good and on the road soon thanks to you.” You lean in to wrap your arms around Lester’s slim torso in a tight hug. The smell of his sweat stained shirt makes you want to wrinkle your nose but you brush it aside. Lester seems to hesitate for a moment before hugging back, giving your shoulder an awkward pat. “You really don’t gotta thank me...” You slowly pull away and beam up at him. “Don’t be silly. Have a good morning Lester.” Finally you turn to the station and jog to catch up with the mechanic who’s holding the door open with a mildly annoyed expression. Lester exhales through his nose as he get back into the truck. Before he pulls off he looked back to watch you disappear into the station and for the first time in a long time guilt settles heavily in his chest. Lester throws the truck into drive and takes off. You turn your head just in time to watch him drive off in the direction you’d come from.

Your fingers fiddle with your backpack straps as you entered the shop. It’s cleaner than you’d expected. Almost as if it’s been mostly untouched. Bo closes the glass door and turns the lock. The click makes you jump a bit and you turn back to look at him. “Still closed technically, if I don’t lock up people will just barge in expectin’ service. Ya know?” You snort and roll your eyes. “Yeah people sure do like to make demands.” Bo flashes you a grin, “Exactly. Here how about you come to the garage with me and I’ll find ya a place to sit while I get to work.” Your back is sore from being tossed around your cab and the thought of sitting down and resting sounds very enticing. “That’d be great.” With a kind smile Bo gestures to a door. As you follow behind him into the dark garage you feel your anxiety spike, causing a tightness in your chest. However the feeling eases once he flips on the lights to reveal a perfectly average looking workspace. A little nervous laugh bubbles up past your lips and Bo arches a brow. “What’s so funny?” You cover your mouth with your hand and shrug. “I-I don’t know. I just had kind of a long night.” “Well then,” Bo smirks “how about you just relax.” He pulls up a comfortable enough looking chair, placing it right by the door to the shop. Gladly you drop your bag to your feet and collapse into the chair with a sigh. “Thank you.” “No problem.”

You didn’t know when you dozed off but when you open your eyes your surroundings are different. You gasp and sit up straight, head whipping around the room to take in as much as you can. The edges of your vision blur and your head swims with panic. Where the fuck are you? You jump from your seat and stumble just barely catching yourself on the arm of the chair, or rather contraption. You turn and back away slowly to take it in. It was like something you’d see in a prison or asylum. A metal chair, cushioned with cracked leather and straps designed to hold down your arms and legs. You’re just glad you hadn’t been strapped down. You have to get out of here. Not daring to pause and take in any more detail you dash for the nearest door. When you rip it open you’re met with a set of stairs. You take a moment to calm your breathing before getting down on your hands and knees. Cautiously you crawl up the wooden stairs stopping short of the top. You peek through the posts of the railing and you can see Bo on the opposite side of the garage, tearing through shelves like he was looking for something. You need to get to your truck and grab your gun. “God fucking damn it!” Bo slams his hands against the shelf, making it rock. You jump but quickly seize the opportunity to make a little noise. Scrambling up the steps you make a break for your truck, but as you run you realize in horror your keys are no longer in your pocket. But you’re in luck, you’d forgotten to lock the door last night. You grab for the handle and tear the door open before diving inside. “Hey!” Bo’s voice cuts the air like a whip. You watch as he launches himself over a bench and comes running for you. You slam down the driver’s side lock just as Bo is reaching for the handle, then scramble backwards to grab the passenger side as well. Bo retreats and you take the opportunity to grab your shotgun in shaky hands. When you look back up Bo is returning with a heavy looking wrench in hand. With all the force he can muster he slammed the tool into the driver’s side window, a large crack appearing in the center. You steady your hands to aim your gun at the man’s head. “I’ll fucking kill you! I swear I’ll fucking kill you!” Bo hesitates and you scoot back until you’re pressed against the passenger side door. Through the cracked glass you can see the look of pure rage written over his features, but he doesn’t move. You unlock the door and step out carefully. Bo’s gaze is so intense it takes everything in you to not look away. Aim still steady, you walk backwards towards the door where your bag sat waiting for you. You pause for only a moment before leaning down to grab it. The second you do you hear Bo’s rapid footsteps as he runs at you. You grab your bag and make a break for the door but he’s hot on your heels. When you exit out into the shop you’re already prepared for what you have to do. You aim your gun and shoot at the door, once cracks the glass, twice breaks through. You jump through the opening you made and the sharp edges of the glass catch at your limbs but you don’t dare stop. You run without looking back and when you reach the road you pick a direction.

GO LEFT

Towards town to find help

GO RIGHT

The same way Lester drove off

#ambrose cyoa #house of wax #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #slasher imagines #slasher x reader

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athenamikaelson · 3 years

Text

Mine for a Long Time Pt. 4

Warnings- Dean being moody again, swearing, a mouse, and blood and torture

Word Count- 2.1k

Staring up at the rickety house in front of me I grimaced. The smell of rust dampening the clean air and making my throat dry up. I lean against the Impala as Dean and Sam discuss the plans with each other to the side of me. I glance down at the dark rubble at my toes and start kicking rocks in boredom. No longer having Jo to keep me company as she had gone to look at the perimeter for where they would place the salt circle. I pick up the tiny rock that I had been kicking and stare down at it. My gaze slowly went up to the house. I feel a small smirk grace my lips as I take the rock in my right hand and throw it at the previous window. The rock pings off the glass and I see Dean whip around to me out of the corner of my eye. I rolled my eyes, already sick of his attitude today. Him barely saying anything to me since we parked other than, “stay put.” Dick. Of course I’m going to stay put, I just want to get back to the bunker and continue watching Criminal Minds with Cas. I’m going to be royally pissed if he started the next episode without me while I’m out here risking my freaking life.

“Are you trying to piss off the spirit?” Dean asked me with an annoyed edge to his voice. I fought the urge to pick up another rock and throw it at him this time.

“Yes, actually. That’s exactly what I was planning on doing. I obviously don’t know your guy’s plan because you let me in on your little chit-chat. So I had to come up with my own. ” I glance back at Sam and he throws me an apologetic smile. My eyes softened to let him know he wasn’t the one I was truly annoyed with.

Dean let out a low huff as he rubbed his hands over his face. After a moment of whatever he was doing he glanced back up at me. His expression no longer filled with annoyance, but with worry.

“Are you sure you’re up to this, Y/N? If not I’m sure Jo would be perfectly fine with taking over.” Even though I could hear the sincerity in his voice, it almost made me even more mad. Did he not think that I could do this? And even better, that Jo could do it better? My eyebrows furrow as I stalk closer to him. Dean’s back visibly straightening out.

“Tell me the plan.”

“And when you have him distracted Dean and I will drop the salt circle around the house. But it’s going to be risky, Y/n. As soon as the ghost realizes he’s trapped he’s going to become erratic. So you have to get out of the house as fast as you can. Alright?” Sam finished up the end of the plan and I let out a low breath and nodded my head in agreement.

“Alright let’s get this over with then.” Sam walked up to me and passed me a salt rifle. He was about to walk off but turned around and pressed a small kiss to my forehead. “Be careful Ernie.” As he pulls back I send him a dazzling smile.

“Aren’t I always, Bert?” He just rolls his eyes as he squeezes my shoulder as he walks to the side of the house where the bags of sand were placed.

“You promise if anything goes south, you worry about yourself first and get out of there. Fuck the job, you just get out of there alright?” I turn around to look at Dean as he asks me. My heart tightens in my chest at the look on his face. His words rang in my ears. His eyes pierced my own. The green illuminated in the moonlight, making Dean look even more breathtaking. As if that was possible. Jo was a lucky girl. The luckiest.

“Y/N?” Dean asks again, as I realized I’d just been staring at him again. I send him a small smile and walk up to him. I punch his shoulder.

“Obviously man. You really think I’d let a ghost mess up this,” I bring my hand up to gesture to my face, “I’m too pretty to die.”

Dean looks down at me, his eyes lost on my face, a small smile on his lips. The cold demeanor from earlier is nowhere to be seen. Dean brings his hand up and brushes some hair that had fallen in my face away. I don’t know if I had voluntarily held my breath, or I just couldn’t breathe as Dean looked at me. As Dean toys with the end of my hair, something changes in his faces as he drops my hair and stands back. I’m shocked by the change so I take a step back as well. The close proximity we were once in. Along with my ability to think straight. Dean looks behind me at something and I turn around to see Jo staring at Dean with a small grimace on her face. But as she sees me turn around the cold smile is gone and she looks over to me and puts on a toothy smile.

“Just coming to see where my Deany was,” She looks over to Dean as do I but he won’t meet my eyes, “Are you coming? I need help with the salt. And Y/N should probably be heading in.” Dean lets out a breath before nodding his head. Jo claps her hands together and smiles.

“Good luck Y/n” She says as she walks off. I watch as she walks behind the house. Her blond hair swung from the ponytail it was in.

I turn back to look at Dean, but he’s already walking off. Following behind her. I start to head to the front door, as it seems that everyone else is already ready. But stop when I don’t hear movement come from Dean anymore. I turn around to see him already staring at me.

“You’re right you know.” He says his voice monotone. My eyebrows scrunch in question. Sending him a look of confusion. He sends a small smile my way.

“You’re too pretty to die.” He turns around and heads to the back of the house, leaving me standing on the half broken porch with my mouth half hanging open.

“What the actual fuck.” I stand there for another moment before shaking my head. Realizing he’s just saying that because he thinks it’ll calm my nerves. Which have skyrocketed, I’ve realized as I turn to the broken down front door. My hands shake as I push open the door, I take a deep breath as I walk in and am met with the overwhelming smell of mold and the stench of what could only be death itself.

I watch my steps as I step over broken piles of glass of the shattered windows around me. I glance around and realize I’m in what must’ve been the living room. The yellowed stained couches are mounted in dust. Other than the overwhelming stench of death and shit, I could imagine what this place looked like in its prime. And my heart hurts to think of the wasted potential of the house.

I go to search for the basement, as it has been the hot spot for our little friend. As he for some reason finds the basement the right place to drag women down and rip out their hearts. Very Chainsaw Massacre if you ask me. But who am I to judge. I’m about to walk to the door in which I think is for the basement when I hear a cabinet behind me start to open. The small scratching sound made my back recoil. I cocked the salt gun and my hands and whipped around, shooting the salt bullet. The recoil makes my arms stiffen from the pressure. I look up to see if the ghost appeared but am met with a small mouse staring at me. It’s eyes almost mocking me.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I go to reload my gun as I hear Sam yelling from the back.

“Are you OK Y/N?” I freeze as I look at the mouse. It’s beady little eyes stare back at me.

“Um, yep. All good. False alarm.” I wait a moment for a response but get nothing. I turn back to the basement door but look over my shoulder at the mouse before I open it. I glare at the little creature and move two of my fingers from my eyes to its own to let it know I’m watching it. I shake my head though after realizing I’m threatening an actually fucking mouse.

“Good God, let's get this over with.” I say as I make my descent down the dark stairway into the basement. The stairs creaking under my feet at every step. I bring the gun up so I have it ready at my disposal. All I’ve got to do is make sure the ghost is in my line of sight and then Sam and Dean will drop the salt border and lock this bitch in.

I stand on the cool cement flooring and look around the air cooling my neck and cheeks, causing me to breath out. I see my breath become quite visible and physically feel the temperature drop and I cock my gun.

“My, my, my what have we got here.” A grainy voice comes from behind me. I whip around to see the ghost of an older man with grey hair falling over his face, wearing a ripped up grey suit. He tries to smile at me but with the blackened teeth in his mouth it makes me take a step back. But he comes closer. With every step I take back he takes one forward until we’re at the very edge of the basement.

“Oh come on Missy, You don’t have to walk away from me into the dampened part of this room.” He reaches out a wrinkling hand, but little does he know he’s right where I want him.

“Have you ever thought of using moisturizer?” I say with a smirk as he scrunches up his face in anger. He goes to say something but I yell before he can.

“Sam, Dean. DO IT!” The ghost looks around as the surrounding windows are covered with the salt. Rage appears on the ghost face as he yells.

“NO! NO!” He quickly whips around to look at me, but I already have my gun at his face and shoot as I go to get around him. But as the salt hits his face the only thing it does is burn him. His figure is still physically trapped here. With me.

“Shit.” I mutter as he lets out a sickening laugh and starts towards me. But I quickly make my way to the stairs. I climb as fast as I can before I feel his hand grab my ankle and yank it back. I fall forward and hear my nose crack as it makes contact with the stairs. I let out a yelp of pain as the ghost grabbed my leg harder.

“I’ll have fun ripping out your little heart the most.” He says as he tries to reach for my hair. But I quickly use my free foot and kick the man in the face. His body tumbling to the bottom of the stairs.

“Yeah sorry buddy, have fun trying to find a heart. All my exes say I don’t have one.” I would’ve laughed at my own joke but the blood gushing out of my nose goes down into my mouth making me gag on it in disgust. I push myself off the stairs as I see him get back up. I push open the door and burst through the living room. The front door in my sight. But as soon as I enter the entryway I feel something hard hit the back of my head knocking me down. My vision gets blurry as I try to crawl to the front door, but am stopped when a hand wraps itself around my hair and yanks me on my back. With a scream I look up to see the man with a sickening look on his face. But the truly horrifying thing was the knife he had raised over my chest.

“DEAN!” I yell, but am cut off as I feel the knife place itself into my stomach. Blood making its way up my throat. Cutting off any other noise. My vision goes in and out and the last thing I see is the man with the sickening grin.

But the last thing I hear is the front door swing open and the sound of my name yelled off someone's lips.

Taglist- @akshi8278 @brilovesdeanwinchester @my-proof-is-you @andrearosales

#author #supernatural reader insert #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural rp #supernaturaledit #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #castiel #athenamikaelson #writeblr

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Christmas Punch & Kisses

A Haytham Kenway x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2,320 Warnings: Explicit Language, Minor Mentions Of Violence

Author’s Note: DAY 3 OF CHRISTMAS FICS. HERE. WE. GO. ENJOY! -Thorne

With the yearly Christmas party in full swing, half of the Templars were drunk off their rockers and the other half were stuffing their faces with food—well on their way to becoming drunker than skunks. (Y/N) sat between Haytham and Shay, an amused expression on her face as she listened to Shay’s rather embellished tale of the sea battle between the Morrigan and the Storm Fortress.

The Irishman curled an arm around her neck, ignoring how she grunted when his tug caused her to spill the rum. “—And the lass jumped up, grabbed the wheel and yelled for the crew to drop the port side anchor.” The group stared in at her like she had three heads, but it didn’t stop Shay. “We hit hard at port, the Morrigan spun and showed starboard and she just screamed, ‘Fire!’” He beamed with pride. “And we blew half the Storm Fortress to kingdom come.”

(Y/N) shrugged off his arm and set her drink down on the table. “Well, someone had to take charge and sink the ship.” The Templars around her let out ‘ooo’s’ and she grinned. “You were too busy passing out.”

Shay pressed a hand to his chest. “My own best friend wounding my pride like this. How could she?”

She snorted and elbowed him in the side. “Hey, I saved our asses and sunk one of the fiercest ships on the seven seas.” (Y/N) curled an arm around his neck and gave him a noogie. “I think I’m allowed to wound some Captain’s pride.” The group laughed at the two, and Haytham, who’d been watching them with mild amusement set his wine glass down.

“I wasn’t aware you could sail, (Y/N). How’d a young woman become skilled enough to take down a Man O’War?” he inquired, catching her eye.

She nodded. “Shay’s dad used to dress me up as a boy in order to take me on the ship with them as a kid. I caught on quick.” Sharing a look with Shay, she remarked, “He’s also been lenient enough with the wheel to let me sail around the North Atlantic a few times.”

“Lenient?” Shay scoffed. “You kicked me in the gonads and took the wheel from me.” (Y/N) tipped her head back and cackled.

When she calmed, she leaned her head on his shoulder. “I asked politely, and you declined. What was I supposed to do?”

“Not kick me in the crotch! That’s what!”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Little bitch.”

“Harlot!” he retorted and the two glowered at each other, much to the delight of the group.

Haytham chuckled. “Given their bravery and skill, I think one of them should get the Christmas bonus this year.” That caught their attention and they stared at him.

“The Christmas what?” she repeated.

Shay nodded excitedly. “Aye, what’s that?”

The Grandmaster regarded the two of them, dark brows furrowed as he asked, “Gist didn’t mention it to either of you?”

With that they looked at the frontiersman who grinned sheepishly. “I believe it slipped my mind.”

Their glower made him sink his neck into his shoulders and Haytham huffed. “Then I shall explain.” He said. “The Christmas bonus is a minor increase in pay that one special member gets at the end of the year for their work in the Order.”

“How much is ‘minor’?” she questioned.

“Fifteen hundred pounds.”

Their jaws dropped and (Y/N) shoved her hand against the side of Shay’s face, blurting out, “I sunk the Storm Fortress!”

He spluttered, yanking her hand down. “I took over New York!”

She spun on him and glared. “I helped!”

“Oh please! You didn’t do a damn thing!”

“Excuse you! I was the one who conquered the headquarters in Waterfront and East Village while you were nursing a head cold!”

The templars snorted and Shay flushed. “I was running a high fever! It was strategic to retreat and get better!”

“How the hell did your ass even manage to make it this far in life to make strategic retreats?!”

“Probably the way your ass managed to make it this far by brown-nosing!”

(Y/N) recoiled, dramatically gasping. “How. Dare. You.” She pointed at him. “Take that back.”

Shay glared and grabbed her rum. He chugged the entire thing and slammed the tankard down. “Over. My. Dead. Body.”

“That can be arranged.” She hissed.

But before she could even jump his way, they heard, “Enough.” It was humored, but it was firm, and they reacted like unruly children, sulking in their seats. Their gazes snapped to Haytham. “You two argue like siblings.”

They shared a look, then smiles grew on their faces, and she said, “Hell, we’ve been conjoined at the hip since we were kids.”

Shay nodded. “Couldn’t imagine life without you, lass.”

The group awwed and Haytham said, “Since it’s clear the two of you are willing to go to war over the bonus,” he paused, taking in their grins. “How about one of you gets the bonus and the other can take a request.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow. “A request? Like a request to move, or?”

Haytham shrugged. “A request for anything you’d like. Whatever’s been on your mind or in your wildest dreams.” She opened her mouth and he added, “Within reason, of course. No asking for the Royal Throne.”

The Irishman snorted. “Looks like your plans are gone, (Y/N).”

She let out a ‘pfft’ and nodded. “Shay can have the bonus. I’ll take the request.”

“But what if I have a req—”

He started to complain, but she turned and grabbed the front of his shirt, bunching it in her fist. (Y/N) pulled them nose to nose and hissed, “Take the goddamn pay raise or I swear to God I’ll flay you alive.”

His coffee eyes went wide, and he nodded rapidly, looking to Haytham. “(Y/N) can have the request. I’ll take the pay raise, sir.”

Haytham snorted and turned his attention to her as she was releasing her friend. “So, (Y/N), what request are you so adamantly wanting?”

She narrowed her gaze and queried, “I can ask for anything so long as it’s within reason?”

He nodded. “Absolutely. If I can grant it, I will.”

Suspicions entered her tone. “You’re not lying to me? You won’t back out if I ask for something peculiar? I won’t get punished if I ask for perhaps,” her eyes drifted to Charles. “to knee him in the groin?”

Sighing heavily, he nodded. “On my honor, I won’t back out nor punish you.” Charles squealed in shock.

(Y/N) slapped the table. “Done.” She stood and pointed at Haytham. “I want to punch you in the face.”

The entire table went silent, evidently not expecting that, save for Shay who buried his face in his hands, laughing hysterically. “Dear god, (Y/N).” he guffawed.

She ignored him and stared straight at the Grandmaster.

He blinked at her, repeating, “You…want to punch…me?”

She nodded. “You’re damn right I want to punch you. Right now. One good time. In the jaw. As hard as I possibly can.”

With his face pinching in confusion, Haytham’s mouth opened and closed until all he could ask was, “Why?”

(Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest. “Because I have suffered three years of the antagonism and arrogance and,” she took a deep breath, “nothing would make me happier than taking out all of my pent up, infernal, ungodly rage in the form of punching you.”

She nodded at him. “So get up, because it’s happening right now.”

“But—”

Pointing at him, she said, “Nuh-uh. You said on your honor you won’t back out.” Cracking her knuckles, she quipped, “Grow a backbone and take my request like a man, Grandmaster.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and (Y/N) could see fury swimming in them, but she simply grinned and stared back. Finally, Haytham let out a sigh and removed his tricorn, placing it on the table.

“Let’s get this over with then.”

An unnatural smile spread across her face and she shifted until they stood a couple feet apart.

Haytham gazed at her. “I can’t believe this is the request you wanted.”

(Y/N) shrugged, testing out the angle of her swing. “I’ve spent the last three years listening to your Holier-Than-Thou-I-Have-My-Head-Shoved-Up-My-Ass-Because-I-Believe-I’m-Superior-To-Everyone-Attitude.” She motioned to him. “Don’t get me wrong, you are superior in skill, but you’re annoying as hell about it and I have dreamed about this moment like Shay dreams about getting laid.”

“HEY!” Shay shouted, but she disregarded him.

“And now, my dream gets to come true and I’m not gonna get punished for it?” She flashed a pearly white smile. “What better request could I ask for?”

Haytham didn’t respond, but the set of his jaw made her giggle. “Good on you for locking your jaw.” She clenched her fist. “‘Cause this is gonna hurt.”

(Y/N) cocked her arm back and swung as hard as she could possibly manage and when she connected with Haytham’s jaw, she knew it was going to leave a mark. The blow sent Haytham staggering backwards and he dropped to a knee, reaching up to grab his face.

His head tilted upwards and though she kept it hidden, mild surprise bled through her when she saw the split in his lip.

She threw her hands in the air in victory. “YES! YES! YES!” (Y/N) pointed at Shay. “KISS MY ASS, YOU IRISH BASTARD!”

Shay recoiled. “Why are you badgering me?!”

(Y/N) grabbed his beer tankard and downed it before slamming it on the table. “Alright! I’m out of here!”

“Where are you going?!” Shay yelled.

She waved a hand. “I doubt I’m overly welcome right now so I’m going to find some cheap beer to drink and find some Christmas carolers to egg!” (Y/N) turned and made finger guns at them before exiting into the hallway.

***

She lay on her back at the edge of the docks, eyes directed to the stars above. They twinkled like millions of little candles and it made her smile, thinking about the stories Shay’s dad used to tell the two of them when they were kids. Her fingers curled around the bottle of rum, but she forwent drinking from it anymore, simply letting herself enjoy the mild haze clouding her mind.

The sound of boots against the dock caught her attention and she tipped her head back, catching sight of Haytham coming her way. She grinned. “Come to punish me in secret?”

He scoffed and took a seat beside her. “That really hurt.”

Even by the moonlight she could see the dark crimson bruise spreading across his lower jaw and chin. The worst of it was at the left corner of his lip where she’d split it. He’d successfully stopped the bleeding but if it didn’t scar, it’d certainly take a while to heal.

“Good,” she said. “I meant for it to.”

His steel eyes dropped down to her and she grunted as she heaved herself up and maneuvered until her head was resting on his thigh.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to use me as a pillow, (Y/N).”

She cocked an eyebrow, countering, “Well if having a woman on your lap is so perturbing to you, feel free to move me.”

Haytham huffed, but conceded, choosing instead to rest his arm across her chest, his fingers twirling the ring on the necklace she wore.

“This is a unique design,” he commented. “I’ve never seen such a thing.”

(Y/N) tipped her chin down to look at it, her lips brushing the tips of his fingers. “It’s called a Witch’s Heart.” She stared at the rubies set in the gold, ten around a bigger one in the middle, positioned slightly pointing to the right. “Belonged to my great-great aunt.”

“Was she a witch?” Haytham inquired.

“That’s not what the ring symbolizes, but to answer anyway, she might’ve been, might’ve not been. I’ll never know though.” (Y/N) murmured.

“Salem witch trials?” he guessed.

“She was a widow who owned a great deal of land.” Her eyes hardened. “There wasn’t anyone to defend on her behalf and they hung her in a make-believe trial.”

“Father or mother’s side?”

“Father’s.”

He was quiet a moment, then asked, “May I ask you a question, (Y/N)?”

“Other than that one?” she quipped, but his narrowed gaze had her rolling her eyes. “Knock yourself out.”

“Do you hate me?”

Haytham’s question was quiet, as if he were unsure of himself and she met his eyes.

“Why would you think—oh, that, right.” She directed her gaze sideways, looking to where the sea met the sky. “Nah, you just irritate the piss out of me sometimes. If I really hated you, I wouldn’t ever come into contact with you and let Shay do it for me.” (Y/N) hummed. “Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity.”

“Fuck off.”

“Excuse me?”

She winced, giggling as she said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.” (Y/N) cleared her throat. “What I meant was, ‘you’re lying’.”

“Not many have ever accused me of lying.”

“I guess that means I’m the rarity.”

Haytham smiled. “You are.”

(Y/N) peered at his face. “So, what’s the real reason you’re asking? Are you afraid of being subject to my hate?”

His eyes searched hers and he admitted, “I am.” Her eyes widened. “You are one of the few I wouldn’t want to be hated by.”

She didn’t say anything for a few moments, then she murmured, “Can I ask for another request?”

“You’re not punching me again.” He said firmly.

“Not what I want, Haytham.”

He sighed. “If you must.”

(Y/N) reached up and gently prodded his lower lip, smiling when he hissed slightly. “I request a Christmas kiss…think you’re up for it?”

Haytham’s free hand grabbed hers and he pressed a kiss to her fingertips before bending down. “I think I can work something out.”

#haytham kenway x reader #haytham kenway x reader imagine #haytham kenway x reader imagines #haytham kenway imagine #haytham kenway imagines #haytham kenway #ac rogue #ac rogue imagine #ac rogue imagines #assassins creed rogue #assassins creed rogue imagine #assassins creed rogue imagines #ac imagines #ac imagine #assassins creed imagine #assassins creed imagines #shay cormac #christopher gist

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thisisawonderfulusername · 3 years

Text

carry me

diego hargreeves x reader

requested: anon

summary: diego has been dating the person who teaches karate down the street for a while. after meeting the family at reginald’s funeral, they end up helping to stop the end of the world... twice.

trigger warnings: cursing, unedited

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i’m so sorry to anon that this took so long to come out, i’ve been in and out of writing and i was busy so it was sitting in my drafts, half finished for a while lmao. but here it is! i hope it was worth the wait. i wasn’t able to fit everything that you wanted in, but i got the basics lol.

you take slow steps around the room, watching as your most advanced students spar, taking hits from their opponents that land on the padded gear they wore with loud thuds. this was something you watched every day, but these students were your favorite because they were never afraid to give or take a packed punch.

there’s a tap at the window that forms the wall to your left, but you ignore it, assuming it to be a bird or something that hit the glass. when it returns, this time much more insistent on getting someone’s attention, you turn your head to look and you see diego standing outside of the dojo. sighing softly, you look towards your assistant, “i have to attend to something, take over for a few.”

as the slightly younger man nods, you exit the room and make your way out of the building after slipping your shoes on, rounding to where your boyfriend waits. “i hope this is important.” you tell him with a small grin, “i don’t leave my students for just anything, you know.” he doesn’t smile or anything, his face set into hard stone, and your eyebrows furrow. “is everything okay?”

“my dad died.” he tells you simply, and your lips part in surprise, stepping towards him, ready to comfort him, but he shakes his head. “i don’t care about him. it’s the funeral that i care about. i’m only going to see pogo and grace, but my family will be there and i don’t know if i can tolerate them alone.”

you glance through the window at your students, “are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

he nods, “if what you’re thinking is that i want you to come with me, then yes, i am.”

you purse your lips, taking a deep breath as you think it over for a moment. “when?” you question, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

“uh... now?”

you’re too surprised to think for a moment, just gaping at him at the suddenness of it all. after a few seconds, you regain yourself, shaking your head, “right now? you’re serious?”

diego gives another slow nod, looking at you like a lost puppy. you sigh heavily, looking away from him into the dojo, before running your fingers through your hair. “alright.” he smiles at that, and you hold a finger up, “let me send out a few emails. i can’t just dip out without an explanation.”

when you met his family, they loved you, much to his annoyance. that week was a crazy one, and you ended up having to help save the world- which didn’t work at all.

and then you landed in dallas, texas, in the year 1963, only a few weeks after diego did. when you found the newspaper that told you where you were, it also gave you some very interesting information on what your boyfriend had been up to when he landed before you.

that’s how you ended up at the mental institution that he was being held, watching as he was escorted into the small visiting room. the smile on his face when he saw you was contagious, though you tried to hold yours back.

“hargreeves, what the hell did you do?” you question with a chuckle as the guards moved to stand nearby, ready to step in if anything happened. too bad they wouldn’t be able to stop what you had planned. there were only two of them. really, a mistake on their part.

taking your hands as he sat down, the man leaned forward onto the table. his hair had grown out a lot since he had gotten here, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t think that he looked good. “i missed you.” he doesn’t answer your question, and you roll your eyes, raising your eyebrow to get him to tell you. “okay, i’m going to save the president. and you’re going to help.”

your lips part for a second, and when you have fully processed what he said, you let out a bewildered laugh. “no,” you tell him, “no i’m not. you’re not going to do that.”

his eyebrows furrow in confusion and you can tell that he had gone a little crazy in his time here. “why not?”

shaking your head, you run your thumb over his knuckles. “because, that’s just a stupid idea.” you grin as you watch him deflate slightly, “do you have any idea how that would change the timeline? it’s going to change everything, and if five ever finds us, he’ll kill you for it.”

when he doesn’t say anything, almost seeming like a toddler with how he looked at you, you sigh, leaning forward slightly. “but i’ll tell you what we are doing,” you start, the volume of your voice dropping, “we’re getting you out of here.”

the smile comes back, and he leans towards you, sneaking in a quick kiss. “i’ll get the one at the door.” he whispers, and you nod, already bracing yourself for the fight ahead of you. “on three.”

“one... two... three!” with the raise in your voice, you jump up from where you sit, and so does diego, jumping the guard at the door before he can even realize what’s going on.

you managed to barrel over the table and get your guard, landing a kick right in his chest that knocks him back into the wall behind him. the impact doesn’t allow him to recover in enough time to fight back, and with a punch to the face (one that had definitely broken his nose), he was out like a light, slumping to the ground.

turning, you see that diego had no trouble getting the other guy, and just as you were about to leave the room, you’re surprised by the sudden appearance of a red light that flashes in time with the alarm ringing through the place.

“let’s get the hell out of here before we’re both stuck in here.” you grab his arm, beginning to run down the hall towards what you hope is an exit, and not a dead end that lead to guard detaining you.

as you run, diego keeps a good hold on your hand. “you know,” he breathes, looking behind the two of you to be sure nobody was following, “it’s hot when you fight like that.”

you can’t help but laugh, but shake your head. “we don’t have time for your flirting, diego.” you tell him, taking a sharp turn down another hall. you suddenly stop when you come face to face with another woman, diego nearly bumping into your back but stopping just in time.

“i knew you were crazy enough to plot an escape.” the woman chuckles, and you’re surprised that she knows him.

you look to him in silent question, and he lets out a breath. “no time. we’re still in a pit of guards, if you’ve forgotten.” he’s already beginning to move forward, “let’s go!”

with his shout, you’re running again, the woman right beside you. you’re not sure who she is, but introductions can be made later, when you’re not in danger of being locked up.

you had really thought that she was an okay person. diego seemed to like her enough to keep her around, and she seemed harmless (other than her knowledge in combat).

yet there she was, standing in the middle of the empty field ahead of you, the handler at her side. five and diego had gone out to meet them and see what they wanted while you, klaus, allison, and luther stood near the barn in the snow, squinting to try and get a peek at what was happening.

you didn’t get much time to wonder, however, because with blue flashes- literally everywhere- people started popping up all around them, equipped with briefcases and a gun.

“oh, my god.” you hear luther breathe out from next to you, the four of you looking out as they continue to pop up. they filled the field behind lila and the handler, and you began to realize what this was.

“this can’t be good.” you mumble, your heart beginning to race.

sure, you could fight. you had trained in karate since you were seven, but that didn’t seem to be of much importance right now, when they were all pointing guns at you and you had nothing to protect yourself with.

in the distance, you see the woman pulling something out of the pocket of her jacket as the two boys begin to turn and run, causing the rest of you to do the same.

the next thing you know, you can hear the pounding of hundreds of feet against the frosted ground, too caught up in trying to save your ass to look back and see everything. you just hoped that diego was okay.

then, the gun shots begin. all around you, bullets crashed into the ground as you ran for cover, and just as you were about to dive behind carts of hay with the other three, you feel the sharp stinging pain in your leg. you fall to the ground just behind the hay, and when you look down to see what the pain was, the snow is stained with your blood.

breath becoming shallow, your eyes widen at the sight. “fuck,” you breathe shakily, hands waving wildly in the air as you try to think of what to do, “what the fuck.”

you’re too busy worrying about the blood pouring out of your thigh to see what everyone else sees- vanya floating in the air, a white glow surrounding her- until the fire raining down on you ceases.

you look up from the red snow, shifting your body to look past the side of the cart while the others stood to look, seeing lila beginning to do the same as vanya had done.

allison, klaus, and luther begin to run- apparently not taking notice of your situation- just as the force from the power begins to move over the field, and you try to push away from it before it can get to you, but you’re too late. the cart is knocked over by the force, trapping you under it as you hit your head against the ground, effectively being knocked out.

“where’s y/n?” diego questions the moment he’s on his feet, looking around at all of his siblings who had helped him get out from under the tractor that had trapped his leg.

the three that had been with you look to each other, silently asking if you had been with them, and when nobody seems to say anything about it, klaus looks to the cart that they had left you at. “last time i saw her...” he says, pointing towards where you were trapped.

the man’s eyebrows furrow as he immediately turns on his heel to run to the cart, seeing the blood when he gets to it and quickly dropping to the ground beside your unconscious body. everyone else had followed and when they saw the sight, luther jumped to lift the hay that trapped you as diego pulled you out.

“god, no!” he pants, looking to your leg that had slowed down a bit in it’s bleeding, his eyes widening as he quickly checks for your pulse. he lets out a relieved sigh when you’re alive, looking to the others. “i’ll take care of her,” he tells them with a nod, “go find five, get rid of lila.”

they all split away from the two of you with the command, going to defeat the enemy that is the crazy lady you had met at the asylum.

she had been dealt with. mostly. the handler was dead and lila had disappeared with the suitcase she arrived with, off to who knows where to do who knows what.

you shoot up from the ground when you wake up, groaning from the pain the shot up your leg. “ah, shit!”

diego quickly looks up when he hears you, “oh, thank god you’re up.” he lets out a huff of breath, shaking his head. “how did this happen?” he questions, motioning to your thigh, where a piece of your shirt had been wrapped around the wound, already bleeding through.

“well, i got shot.” you state the obvious, picking at the shirt and gritting your teeth as you feel the pain.

he breathes in sharply, “okay, you’ll be okay.” he nods, and you think he may be telling that to himself rather than you. “we took care of lila and the handler-”

“i really thought she would be an alright person,” you shake your head as you prepare yourself to stand up, but diego quickly stops you.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea.” he warns, his hand held up to keep you from doing it, “i’ll just... carry you.”

you grin at the proposition. “a real knight in shining armor.” you chuckle, “i guess i’ll allow it.”

“yeah, yeah.” he smiles as he loops his arm under your knees, careful to not move your thigh too much to avoid pain, before putting the other on your back. you put an arm around his shoulder, and he lifts you slowly, trying his hardest not to hurt you.

you squeeze your eyes shut at the pain that courses through your leg, but you try to tough it out. “did five find a way to get back home?” you question, opening your eyes to look up at him.

“yeah,” he tells you, “we had an array of briefcases to choose from.” he chuckles, bringing you around the front of the house. “grace will be able to fix you up.”

“oh, thank god.” you giggle, “i thought i’d need you to carry me around everywhere.” you joke, curling a piece of his hair around your finger. “i wouldn’t mind it, though.”

“neither would i.”

taglists

main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever

tua: @rasberrymay @noodlextrash @atomicpillar @malfovs

diego hargreeves: none yet

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #tua #diego hargreeves #diego #number two #the umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy x reader #tua x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #diego x reader #number two x reader

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