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reds-skull · 5 months

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Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART]

I got a good streaks of one chapter a day, so why not keep it going lol (I'm just getting through the chapters I have a thorough plan of. The farther I go the less I know, so I'm sure chapters will slow down by then lmao)

Gaz has been jumping on the balls of his feet, hovering for a second too long to be natural, and falling back down for what feels like hours now. Ghost would’ve chained him to a boulder if Price didn’t read his mind and started staring daggers at him a couple of minutes ago.

They’ve been here long enough that inky, dark fingers started grasping at Ghost’s shoes. He steps on another pesky bastard while sighing.

The victims of Limbo enjoy fucking with him, as always.

Despite how annoyed he appears to be, Ghost too would’ve been jumping in excitement all over the tarmac if he didn’t have a reputation to uphold. Any minute now they will spot the helo carrying Sergeant Soap MacTavish, and Ghost will finally meet him again after 6 months, 3 weeks, and 4 days. Not that he’s been counting.

Price has cleared them of morning duties, to “properly welcome the Sergeant”, in his words. In a passing thought Ghost got a glimpse that the Captain has much more planned for today, but the old man wants to keep his secrets.

His train of thought swerves and crashes when he spots a helo closing in on the base. The Sergeant is here.

The moment the ramp lowers and Ghost locks eyes with Soap, something grabs at his heart and squeezes. Whatever it is doesn’t let up when the Sergeant’s face lights up, and he smiles so brightly, Ghost is momentarily blinded.

“Sergeant MacTavish”, Price greets out loud, “I hope the flight from Alaska wasn’t too long.”

Soap drags a hand through his messed warhawk, “Aye, nine hours well spent”, he chuckles.

“You’ve already met Lieutenant Ghost,” Price motions at him, “and this is Sergeant Garrick”, Gaz steps up to clap Soap’s left shoulder. Ghost notices he winces slightly and narrows his eyes.

“Glad to finally meet you mate”, Gaz grins.

“Likewise, I hope to be of use”, Soap replies.

Soap turns his head towards Ghost, and his features soften, “It’s good to see you Ghost. You’ve been doing well?”

Who cares how he’s been doing before? He grunts a vague affirmative before Price saves them from what he’s sure would’ve been a train wreck of a conversation. Talking for the sake of talking isn’t something Ghost prefers to practice.

“Now”, Price claps his hands, “we’ve got a busy day ahead of us, so”, he turns to Gaz, “I want you to show Soap to his room and around the base. Meet us at 1200 on the revenant training grounds.”

“Copy that, c’mon Soap”, Gaz wraps a hand around Soap’s shoulders and grabs his bag. Before Soap can protest, he shows him that it practically weighs nothing in his hands.

Already showing off his powers, as expected…

“Ghost”, Price’s voice echoes in his head. “We’re going to have a little demonstration of power for the Sergeant.” he side-eyes him, “I got clearance for you too.”

Ghost knows his surprise must be coming off in waves for Price. He hasn’t been able to use his powers since his last solo mission, and on base it might’ve been years since he’s been able to train.

He feels the familiar thrum of Limbo calling him. It would be redundant to call his powers a double-edged sword, but one of its many disadvantages is the fact he can’t train them consistently, in a controlled environment. There’s a reason he needs special clearance from the higher brass to use them, even on hostile grounds, if there’s a single extra person in his squad.

Ghost is sure the smile on his face would be unsettling, if his skull mask wasn’t in place.

The revenant training grounds are basically a glorified junkyard, in Ghost’s honest opinion. The few other revenants on base are in intelligence or medical, and so only the 141 members use it.

And by 141 members, he means only Gaz, since Price’s powers aren’t physical and Ghost’s are held by the tight leash of higher ups.

The grounds are filled with various shipment containers, wrecked cars and trucks, and concrete blocks. Ghost and Price are currently in the defunct watchtower that overlooks the grounds, watching the two Sergeants walk in.

Ghost keeps a close eye on Soap, but he doesn’t seem broken like that earlier reaction suggests. He does note that he hasn’t seen the Sergeant use his left arm at all.

“About time the muppets showed up”, Prices mutters next to him. Ghost huffs.

“Captain! Sorry for the delay, some recruits were interested in our new Sergeant!” Gaz shouts from across the field. Soap has the decency to look sheepish.

Sighing, Price tells Ghost “we’ll start with mine, get the lad used to the new voice in his head, eh?”

Ghost can tell Price is thrilled to introduce Soap to his powers.

“Alright Sergeants, we will start with a small demonstration of Gaz’s powers, then yours, and if you managed to not die again, Ghost will give you a small peek of his.”

Ghost has the urge to roll his eyes. Both of them know Ghost’s powers don’t manifest in “small peeks”.

He amusingly watches Soap turn around and search for the source of Price’s voice. He remembers how confusing it was at first, but soon enough Price’s voice became an almost comforting presence in his own mind. As comforting as it is infuriating.

Gaz laughs at Soap and appears to explain to the poor lad that he’s not losing his mind, before shoving him away to let him start his demonstration. Soap barely climbs into the watchtower before Gaz starts making vehicles lift into the sky like balloons.

Soap finds a spot near Ghost and gapes at the display of power. The several tons of mangled metal fall down soon enough, when Garrick moves on to the shipment containers strewn across the grounds.

Gaz’s original fate, of being crushed by the helicopter he fell out of when it got hit by an RPG, granted him the ability to essentially reverse the gravity on himself and anything he touches. His only limit is the required physical contact, otherwise he could lift an entire city if it was detached from the ground.

The Spiritulogists (idiots that try to explain their unexplainable powers), had theories that with enough concentration, Gaz could reverse the gravity of the entire planet, and possibly end all life known on planet earth. Ghost has doubts the Sergeant will ever have a change of heart big enough to want that, though.

Besides, Gaz doesn’t use his powers to kill. What is lethal about the man is his ability to snipe you from somewhere no one ever expects - the sky.

The floating Sergeant is now looking down at the destruction he created around him, and Price turns to Soap and asks, “Well? Think you could work with that?”

The Sergeant is lost in thought for a moment, and Price’s expression becomes intrigued by whatever he sees in his head. The two share a look, and Soap wordlessly starts climbing down to the training grounds.

“What did he say?” Ghost asks Price, unwilling to let the Captain leave him in the dark.

“Kid’s got a couple ideas, but I keep feeling… doubts from him.”

“About joining the taskforce?” is Soap regretting his transfer?

“No…” Price continues slowly, “about matching any of our powers…”

Soap’s uncertainty grew by each step he took around the grounds, Ghost didn’t need to read his mind to tell. He nervously looked around at the junk, flames glowing and ebbing between his fingertips.

Gaz Joined them a short while ago, sitting precariously on the railing.

Price mumbles “can’t read him anymore”, before shouting “you’re welcome to start Soap! Don’t hold back!”

As any of their powers have, Price’s disadvantage is range. The farther away a person, the less he can communicate with them. However, Price found that if he’s closer emotionally to someone, the range increases. Soap’s range must be shite.

Soap seemed to snap into the determined mindset Ghost observed back in their first helo flight together, and stepped towards a huge concrete block.

Starting heavy despite having doubts… Ghost respects that.

Soap lays his hand (right, Ghost notes to himself) and inhales. The flames on his fingertips burn bright white and Ghost find himself mesmerised-

The block gets blown back with immense force, ripping holes through shipping containers and trucks like they were made of paper.

There are not many moments that leave Ghost truly shocked anymore, not after what he’s done in life.

The dumbfounded expression on Price and Gaz’s face tells him they feel the same.

Ghost blinks a couple of times and forces his focus back on the Sergeant below, who's now flexing his hand while zeroing in on two stacked shipment containers. He walks over towards them and drives his arm down, and the containers pop up like popcorn in a hot pan.

Soap continues walking around, exploding everything he could get his hands on. As he kept going, he seemed to gain some confidence to run towards his fresh targets and blow them farther and farther each time.

He looked like a kid experimenting with a new toy. Ghost scans his memory for the date of Soap’s Reaping. 6 years ago.

Yet another question to add to the mountain, Ghost grimly thinks.

“Sergeant MacTavish!” Price eventually calls, and Ghost almost wants to stop him, to let Soap continue destroying the training grounds, to let Ghost continue watching him wield fire and flame like he would a knife.

But Soap startles and stops his hand from exploding yet another car, and he runs back to the tower. Price’s face twists when the Sergeant gets close enough to read. Before Ghost can ask, he relays to both him and Gaz “we’ll have to keep watch on this one, something’s odd about his behaviour”

As if Ghost hasn’t been doing that already…

When it comes time for Ghost to stretch his legs, Price ushers the Sergeants on a platform, and orders Garrick to lift it up. Soap has eased out his previous somber mood, and now flashes Ghost a big, excited grin. The look they share makes Ghost’s heart feel lighter. He hates it for a moment.

He hates what he can’t understand.

Walking towards the middle of the field, Ghost quiets down all other thoughts in preparation for Limbo. It is not the kind of power you can use absentmindedly.

After rising up several hundred feet to the sky, Price’s voice fills his mind, “Revenant powers authorized, Ghost. On your go.”

Ghost rolls his neck, finally…

He closes his eyes, seeing the dusty grounds, the bright blue sky, the small figures of his teammates, for one last time.

He snaps them open, and the world loses all color.

Instead, it is filled with dark figures, burdened by black ink, dragging themselves across the empty plains of Limbo.

Ghost watches the bright tendrils of his safe spot, his eye of the void-storm, lick his form before dissipating. Beyond it, mangled hands reach for him, broken soldiers direct their blank stares at him.

Here, he finds all of his past victims, trapped souls that wither in this place where nothing lives and nothing dies. He hears their calls, shouts in different languages, all towards him.

Those he understands, call his name, beg to be killed, curse him and his merciless Reaper, laugh at him.

He feels his control on Limbo slipping, and blinks.

In an instant, the world returns to its natural order, and the voices fade back, satisfied for now but never satiated.

He looks up at the taskforce, telling Price, “how was the show?” with an air of assurance.

“Terrifying as always, Lieutenant. Good work” he can hear Price’s smirk from here.

The moment Garrick lands the platform, Soap jumps down and jogs towards Ghost. He has a squirming curiosity to hear what he has to say, and if he’s honest with himself (and he’s not), slight worry.

He’s confident his powers are strong, and in his ability to protect himself from them. How they look to an outsider however…

The manic glint in Soap’s eye extinguishes those fears in an instant, “THAT’S what you’ve been hiding from me LT?!, Hell’s Bells, that was incredible!”

Ghost feels a smile form on his lips, “incredible is one way to describe it.”

He wants to ask how Limbo looked on the outside, but he remembers the one time Gaz saw it on the field. He didn’t look him in the eye for weeks.

Soap wouldn’t call Limbo “incredible” if he saw its effect on humans.

Price and Gaz join them, and Ghost is mildly pleased to find none of them look too shaken. Perhaps they simply accepted what Ghost truly is.

“Great work lads” Price tells the three soldiers, “we will explore your powers in a squad situation in the future, but for now take a moment to rest”. He glances at Soap, “and MacTavish?”

“Yes sir?” Soap perks up.

“Welcome to Taskforce 141.”

Before Gaz can steal Soap away, Ghost catches up to them and stops their conversation, “Sergeant? A word.”

He nods towards a quiet spot between two buildings and waits for Soap to say his goodbyes to Gaz.

Ghost walks towards a small roofed corner, that overlooks the fields beyond the base. Soap stops to lean against the opposing wall and tilts his head inquisitively.

“I’ve read your file after our mission” Ghost starts.

A few seconds of silence pass before Soap raises an eyebrow, “...and?”

A small spark of irritation rises in his voice, “your medical files”, as if it will shed more light on what he’s trying to get at.

Clearly, it didn’t. If anything, it made it worse. Soap crosses his arms and lowers his head, brows furrowed.

He sighs, “look, if you want to ask about any of the censored sections, I can’t tell ye-”

“How long does it take you to heal?” Ghost cut him off.

That seemed to surprise Soap out of his closed off pose, “huh?”

“You lose and regain limbs more quickly than people change wardrobes. They keep sending you out weeks, days later.” He walked forward to tower over the Sergeant, “How long does it take you to heal completely from that?”

Soap blinks up with confusion, “they send me out when I’m capable of preforming well on field”, he said like it was obvious.

Ghost exhales harshly, “that’s not what I asked.”

Soap frowns, opens his mouth, and closes it again.

“Well… depends on the wound. Limbs take the longest if they’re completely cut off, but usually it doesn’t get to that.”

He rolls his left sleeve up, “got this arm blown off by a grenade. Our squad was taking cover in a closed room when it rolled in, and I had to throw it away.” He huffs what Ghost hopes isn’t a laugh, “I was a wee too late, blew up in my hand.”

Ghost examines his arm, the faint burn scars wrapping around it are the only hint anything ever happened to the Sergeant.

“How long ago was that?”

Soap sighs and rubs at his left arm, “about three weeks ago.”

“And it’s still not fully healed?”

He shakes his head slightly, “it’s mostly intact, but the nerves aren’t fully connected yet. Can’t really feel it…”

Nerve damage, and yet they already sent him here… did they know Price isn’t gonna sent them to the field immediately? Were they just gonna let the Sergeant deal with it if he did?

Soap quickly hurried to add, “I won’t be a liability on the field, sir. I’ve worked with worse injuries before.”

Fucking hell.

Ghost returns his eyes to the Sergeant’s, “I’m not sending you on the field when you can’t feel your bloody arm, Soap”.

Soap then actually laughs a little, “good thing you’re not in charge of my next mission, sir”.

He’s about to unleash all his anger and frustration on the damned Scot before he stops. Soap’s right… Price did say there’s one condition to his arrival.

Oh, rage was an old friend’s of Ghost, and Soap is about to meet it.

He tries to expel some of it with a sigh. He doubts it works.

“Listen to me carefully, Sergeant.” He almost growls

“I don’t know how you’ve been operating before, but at one point all this, these injuries, the shit you’ve been piling under your rugs, it’s all gonna come back and explode in your face.”

Ghost takes a breath, and returns to his usual monotone voice.

“I know from experience. They think just because you died once, they can push and pull you like a puppet…”

He sees Soap’s pupils dilating.

“… Your strings are going to get tangled eventually.”

Ghost leaves the Sergeant staring at the wall, mindlessly feeling at his unfeeling arm.

Thank you all for reading as always :)

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pagemasters · 22 days

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Fantasies He…

BABY’S FIRST FIC!!!

Author’s notes: So after reading so many for years I thought maybe it’s my turn to take a crack at it. There’s I think 3 parts to this, with the first one having basically no smut and mostly platonic fluff between Az and Feyre, but part 3? Can’t say the same thing for the middle Archeron sister lmao

I swear this started out to be one part but the story told me otherwise, part 2 is fully drafted I’m just revising and editing

I’m a very visual person, so enjoy the floor plan of the nursery and a rough sketch of what I think her mural would be and the star! I am a painter if it wasn’t obvious so the whole portion on starfall stars is actually based on how Bob Ross paints his northern lights, just with modifications BUT I haven’t tried it myself for this specific purpose. Also the colour of Feyre and Rhys’s stars are the colours of the first ones that hit them during Starfall btw! I love the platonic relationships between the inner circle and we don’t get enough of it

If you enjoyed it I would love u forever if you let me know!! :)

Ps. Omg dialogue is so difficult to make realistic but also in character, none of that “hey big brother” etc. shit you see in tv shows where you’re like who tf says that to their sibling ?? Ps.ps. I haven’t taken an English writing class for 5 years so if punctuation was wrong let’s pretend it wasn’t LMAO

I CANT FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO AO3 LINK BUT IT’S ON THERE WITH THE SAME USERNAME LOL SORRY

Summary:

Azriel spends the day with Feyre, only to get caught in the rain on the way home. Good thing the townhouse is empty. Or is it…

CHAPTER ONE: DAYDREAMING

The rain finally decided to make its appearance as Azriel stepped out of the River house. Taking a deep breath, he let the soothing scent wash over him as he relaxed his wings.

The meeting with Rhys was short, just a weekly update on the goings around the other courts and allies, nothing that required the full inner circle to make an appearance. Something he knew after centuries of this work should be a good thing, but it doesn’t stop the pang in his chest at the missed opportunity of seeing her.

Not that he didn’t try to catch a glimpse of her. He did take a walk through the beautiful home his brother had built for his mate after seeing him, the smell of cedar and masonry long since faded from the construction days; replaced with flowers and candles and the dinner his shadows whispered Nuala and Cerridwen were working on. The scent of paint lingered though, and he discovered the reason why as he got to the residential wing. His High Lady wasn’t in her studio, but he found her nonetheless with a brush in her tattooed hand.

“I think you missed a spot.” Az said from the doorway, trying to repress his smile at her startled reaction. Even though Feyre and Rhys opted for doorways fashioned with wings in mind, he kept his drawn in tight, not wanting to risk smearing her paint as he stepped inside.

“Rhys won’t let me use the step ladder without him holding it. And me. And the bump.” Feyre twisted to look up from her spot on the floor and smiled in greeting before lowering the brush to pat her stomach in emphasis. She gave her mate’s antics an affectionate eye roll and shake of her head before releasing a heavy sigh, glancing back at her work.

“If I remember correctly,” Az teased, “you are prone to falling quite spectacularly.”

She let out an indignat squawk so loud he had to bite his lips to prevent laughing, her body spinning so fast to face him fully that paint ended up splattering from her brush to the white drop cloth.

Their flying lessons had ceased for the most part since the war, so watching her fly into a tree or eat rocks wasn’t as common an occurrence— but that’s not to say that still doesn’t happen. Knowledge he happens to be privy to not just as her flight teacher, but as the spymaster, something she’s very aware of if the narrowing of her eyes and mouth hanging open are any indication.

It’s hard not to notice the similarities between the sisters, when even with your eyes closed the cadence of their speech was also similar. But it was never so apparent between youngest and oldest Archeron as when Feyre’s eyes pinned him in place, the expression of mock outrage was so much like Nesta’s it was almost comical.

“Ruuuude,” she said, drawing the word out in a whine with pouted lips, no doubt remembering the amount of face plants he’d witnessed when she first began to fly. “I see how you treat your High Lady, Shadowsinger. Just wait, it’s not too late for me to paint a little something in your bedroom.”

“And here I thought pouting and grumbling was beneath royalty, at least you can say you’re a tree hugger.”

She gave him a gesture that was certainly beneath royalty, and he didn’t hold back his chuckle this time.

“What gave you that idea, have you even met Rhys?”

“Oh trust me, you should’ve seen him when we were kids.” He said, grabbing her hands to help her stand. “He discovered in a book that while bat wings look identical to ours, the anatomy of their wing is labeled similar to that of the hand. So for them, their talons are their thumbs. After that, he took it upon himself to hang upside down in silent protest whenever he was mad, but didn’t want his mother to wash his mouth out with soap for swearing.”

“He did not.”

“Mhmm, until his faced turned purple.”

“And where were you and Cass for all this?” Feyre said through her giggling, a wide grin of unrestrained joy plastered on her face.

“He couldn’t have done it alone, a thumbs down by yourself would look stupid.”

“Ah yes, because the three of you hanging upside down like overgrown bats isn’t ridiculous.” She cackled, “How long until he gave it up?”

“A few weeks. After Cassian passed out in the middle of camp and we all got broken capillaries on our faces. Still, a better alternative than the awful tasting soap in Illyria.”

“What, as opposed to other tasting soap?” He just shrugged, smiling.

Rhys’s mom’s reaction to warriors dragging them across the rocky ground home was as lively in his memory as she was when she berated them when her son fessed up. She was less thrilled to hear the real reason than Devlon was having passed out children strewn about the place, but she never did call them out on the lie they fed to Devlon about it being a dare when he came banging on their door. That night though when they were more lucid, she brought them on foot to one of the mountains surrounding their outpost and stood them at the opening of a cave. He still remembers the eyes he felt on them, the warning bells ringing from his shadows as she gestures her hands out and said, “If you want to act like bats, you can join them; or you can toughen up, learn how and when to pick battles and what hills are worth to dying on. Because there will be more people who will piss you off, but this is not an option when you’re leading armies. So,” her hazel eyes meeting each of theirs, “What will it be? Do you want to stay here or take the soap and fly right on home.” Needless to say they bolted home with the taste of pine tar suds coating their mouths like a film no amount of water could rid them of the taste. He could still feel the eyes of whatever was in that cave the entire way home, but thank the cauldron he could fly at that point. His heart ached at the memory of the female, the one he knew picked a low cave for him to make her point, just in case. The one his shadows caught a few times after that upside down on the couch after a rough day when she thought she was alone.

As Feyre’s amusement continued with eyes glazed over—no doubt having a silent conversation with Rhys—Az cleared his throat, his shadows pulling back as he gestured to their surroundings and asked, “So how’s the nursery coming along?”

“It’s going great,” she replied after a moment, her laughter subsiding as she surveyed the mural. “I know it’s not geographically correct, and that Starfall and the time when our courts insignia’s stars show don’t overlap, but I couldn’t not include them. I want him and any possible future child to see the night court as I did when I first fell in love with it and their dad.”

Indeed, while he knew Rhys was already in love with her, he got to watch Feyre love him back as much as he deserved in real time the longer she was here. And the way she captured the land they all loved so much here was… breathtaking.

On the wall that held the doorway he just stepped through lay the mountain with the moonstone palace atop it. The first place she saw here. They both knew where the doors to Hewn city rest below, but it was covered by the landscape. As if there were no room for nightmares in this room, even if it was a court this babe may one day rule.

“I have no idea how you made that mountain so realistic,” he said to her in awe, pointing to the painting adjacent to the wall they just looked at.

“The crib is going to go right below it when the rooms done. I want it to watch over him.” She replied almost reverently as she looked up.

The mountain was the tallest of the three she painted, and it looked just as it had on his trek up there with his brothers during the rite. Physically it was practically stone for stone, those three stars lines up overhead perfectly, but the energy differed. Instead of the cold and foreboding thing he remembered on the way up, it seemed almost… euphoric? As if the wild joy and love Rhysand, Cassian and he felt as they made their way to the top and won seeped its way onto the painting. Like the unyielding strength from that mountain and what it brought out of them would guide and protect him, just like it did for the three winged dots surrounding the monolith at the tip. How that was even possible was beyond him.

He could barely tear his gaze away, but snickered as he saw the tiny but recognizable building at the base of it to the right. “The cabin, huh?”

“Of course, gotta prep him for one day kicking all of your asses during your snowball fight.” She added, blushing. “I put few snowballs flying just for good luck.”

Though he knew the other reason the cabin was significant to Feyre and Rhys, the thought of his future nephew joining their game warmed him. But It did make trying not to focus on other non-winged and winged babies that could one day join in the snowball fight impossible. Children have always been an abstract idea, a figment he knew existed but besides Rhys’s sister, he wasn’t around. And after what happened to her… He thought for a long time he would never have one of his own, but that sentiment start to change in recent years. He could avoid it most days though, but being surrounded by the baby stuff made the hypothetical harder to ignore. The thoughts on if he’d have his own little ones propped on his hip and curled into his chest with their chubby cheeks and inquisitive eyes. If they would have his hazel or her golden brown ones, or something different if they adopted. Would their little hands or clothes or hair get caught in the scales of his armour just like hers did when he took her on her first flight to the town house from the House of Wind, when he held her for the first time. Would Elain… Az paused, stopping that train of thought before it just twisted the knife even further, seeing more things he can’t have.

His shadows began to circle him, and if Feyre noticed she politely didn’t comment on it before pointing out what she was working on when he interrupted her.

To the right of the cabin and right were she was sat Velaris, and it really did look like a city of starlight with how she painted the glowing nightscape. He could make out the four markets that were the heart of the city, with extra emphasis on where the town house sat along with the new residence they were currently in. Bisecting through it all, the Sidra River looked so realistic he could probably skip a rock across its surface. It flowed like a living thing, reflecting the lights from the buildings on its edge and even the stars above. Two of which weren’t normal stars.

Above the city proper and even the flat topped mountain that held the House of Wind was the beginnings of starfall.

“How-“Azriel could barely get out, “how is this even possible?”

“Perks of now being immortal; plenty of time to practice. And having a husband with wings who takes you to get aerial views.” She simply said gesturing to their city, as if she didn’t create magic with swipes of colours.

“The green one is mine, and the light blue one is Rhys’s. I’m planning to get everyone to add their own star to the wall.” Now looking him, she smirked. “Which means you came at a perfect time, Shadowsinger. Your turn.”

He gave her an unbelieving expression, shadows instantly vanishing. “You can’t be serious.”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief, “if I trust Cassian with a paintbrush, you’ll be fine. He’s coming by in a few days when he gets a free moment, Nesta and her two friends are keeping him busy with training.” Nesta is keeping him busy with more than just that, it’s a wonder he even has energy to train them.

But looking at Rhysand’s mate, Azriel saw her glow in a way different from her powers. Feyre radiated joy as her hand cradled her stomach despite barely showing, not caring about paint getting on her already splattered clothes. For his brother, for the friend beside him and his nephew in her womb, he removed his jacket and let out a resounding sigh in defeat. “What do you need me to do?”

So Feyre excitedly brought him over to her pile of paint tubes on the drop cloth. She grabbed the white and as he selected the colour phthalo blue she went off to prep the clean, dry brushes and a fresh palette for him.

“So pick the area of the sky you want your star to be, I’d like to keep the inner circle’s additions mostly above Velaris, but I’ll add tiny ones fading out once everyone is done. Amren and Mor are away, Cass is busy and who knows if or when Nesta would want to contribute. That means besides Rhys and I, you have the pick of the litter.”

“What about Elain?” He asked, trying to keep his voice and face as neutral as possible when she handed him a 3 inch brush already dipped in his blue.

“I’ll drag her in here after dinner when she gets in from the garden. The colour of the sky is already dry which is the important part, so there’s no time constraint on when everyone adds theirs besides my due date.” She gave him a knowing smile which he dutifully ignored, along with the disappointment in his chest as she confirmed Elain wasn’t in. “Now I want you to cover a large area of where you generally want the shape of the star to go, it doesn’t have to be perfect but cover much more than you think you’d need to.”

He hesitates, “won’t this cover up your sky? It’s a dark colour.”

“Just trust me.”

He followed her instructions, cringing as his brush made contact with her beautiful wall and went over the faint background stars she had already done, but relaxed when he saw they were still partially visible.

Az looked back at her, seeing his shadows lazily inspecting them, as if they wanted a part in the activity their master is occupied with. Feyre playfully eyed the curious one that grazed her hand as she took his current brush from his scarred hand to switch it. “Now with this fan brush, I want you to coat it in the white paint. And as you do so, get a feel for how the bristles bend and move.”

Doing as High Lady said, he got her guidance once he brought the loaded brush to the wall, being sure to dab, not swipe the white in a near full coverage circle followed by a line over the shade of blue he had no idea how to pronounce.

“So this is where the magic begins,” she stated when he finished and passed a third brush over, a flat paddle one identical to the first and this time a cloth. “You see that perfectly clean teardrop you made? You’re gonna ruin it.”

At the alarmed look he gave her, she just cackled. “I knew you’d make that face, Rhys did the exact same. I want you to very lightly swipe the brush starting at the largest end of the teardrop and out towards the tail of the star. That’s the only motion you’ll be doing. And after each swipe you can gently wipe off the brush before starting again. You can also practice the strokes around the mountain until you feel ready like Rhys did, the sky there is also dry.”

With a deep breath, he took a step away and tried it until he felt like he got the technique she wanted down. This was for his family, he reminded himself, he will not let his nephew down. And despite getting her nod of approval, he still felt like he was going in blind as he did what she said and his jaw dropped.

Well shit. Now he understood why she wanted him to put down the colour he chose first.

“The blue is actually transparent; so while it looks dark in the tube, it blends out much lighter. Especially with white under or overtop. You’re doing wet-on-wet blending.” What was once just a bright blob over blue so dark you couldn’t see it on her perfect walls, he could now see how the white faded. How the light and the dark mixed until they became one. So Az wiped the excess off his brush, and continued on and on until it looked similar enough to what she and Rhys created. They fell into a rhythm, Feyre handing him back the fan brush to brighten or a new one with bristles so impossibly soft as they worked as a team. She barely had to tell him what to do now, so with next to no pressure he feathered it out vertical rather than the almost horizontal strokes from before, until only a streak of blue light remained. They could’ve been at this for minutes or hours, he had no idea. He didn’t even question her instruction to use a densely bristled tool he could’ve sworn was a toothbrush to flick on watered down white paint for the star trail.

“This is incredible, Feyre.” He stated, stepping back at last.

“That wasn’t me, that was all you my friend.” She grinned at him. “Once everyone’s is dry, I’m adding a sheer shimmery paint to make them pop, but even without it you did a beautiful job.”

He felt heat rise to his face, and inclined his head in thanks without removing his eyes from the wall.

“You certainly have an eye for this, Az. Care to quit and become a painter? I could use an assistant.”

A chill went through him, and he started to turn in her direction before the window caught his attention. Dusk must have fallen along with the rain who knows how long ago. About to rub his temples, Feyre squeaked out a warning before he remembered the task at hand and looked down at himself. The plain black long sleeve shirt covered in splatters didn’t matter, he goes through them like water for work but the paint coating his skin made his stomach drop the same way her jest did. Much different than the red he was used to seeing there, all the blood he still couldn’t wash away.

He can paint a picture with his knife, but nothing like Feyre’s ability of creation. Each slash he makes as delicate and precise a dance as any Nesta favours, but instead it’s to a symphony of screams. And unlike Elain… the only soil he sees is grave dirt. If the bodies make it that far.

His work is never meant to been seen by others, it’s means to and end, a way to protect his family and his court. Unlike their work, where it would be a crime to hide it from the world.

“Tempting offer, Cursebreaker,” Az murmured, swapping the dirty cloth for a damp one his shadows brought him. Paying close attention to his siphons and not his scars, he still didn’t feel clean enough no matter how hard he wiped the paint from his skin. “Sadly, I don’t think your mate would be too thrilled to have to hire someone else to feed the creatures in Hewn City.”

She snorted, making a lighthearted comment about at least no one had to feed Byraxis, for now… The forced tease in her voice didn’t fool him as she realized she must’ve hit a nerve, but he appreciated her effort anyway.

“I do have to head out, but I’ll pop by soon to see the progress when I drop off paperwork.” He told her, his lips pressed to the top of her head and shockingly made contact with her hair in a brief farewell. Rhys must’ve lessened the shield knowing Az was with her, but not by much considering both her and the babe’s scent was still concealed.

Feyre did invited him to stay for dinner which he politely declined. It wouldn’t be served for an hour, but he needed space and to fly to clear his head—still feeling like if he looked down he’d be dripping blood that didn’t belong to him as he made his was out. He did try not to rush out as he walk through the maze of supplies strewn about the covered floor, keeping his wings high even as his shadows tugged at him, but he had a feeling she knew his reason for leaving. Well, at least the other reason.

Lightning cracks through the sky, snapping Azriel out of his memories. Damn, He must be more tired than he thought. If breaking one of the cardinal rules of flying—also known as “PAY ATTENTION JACKASS!” by his brothers when they taught him—wasn’t enough, he’s not even going to the right place. Despite not living there for years, he’d been heading towards the town house and not the House of Wind.

The storm just seems to be picking up, but at least with the downpour he no longer felt the warm spray of blood coating him rather than the paint, he just felt nothing at all. Well, nothing besides wanting to get the fuck home. Az really didn’t have the energy to fly up a mountain or winnowing through this even if it wouldn’t be his first time. But considering how often lightning hits the rocks rather than the surrounding city, crashing at the town house is easiest. It’s for the best, with it sitting empty now. At least he’d be alone.

Az pauses mid-flight though, when he notices the lights already on inside. And the smoke rising from the chimney only to dissipate in the rain.

What the hell? Who would be dumb enough to break into their high lord and inner circle’s home? It’s not like it’s broadcasted who owns the house but it’s pretty common knowledge after this long.

At least storms can be a great tool for his field of work, it’s almost a blessing in disguise he plans to use to its full advantage. Landing atop the roof as gently as possible, he ensures his wing beat blends in with the rain like it has hundreds of times before. Using his siphons to unlock the door and slipping inside, the creak of the hinge merely just a gust of wind as he shuts it behind him.

That’s when the smell of jasmine and honey hits him so strongly he has to bite back his moan. But it seems like he was the only one who did.

Because mixed within that scent ingrained in his brain, is Elain’s arousal.

And she’s…

Oh fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

#elriel #sarah j maas #Baby’s first fic #Fluff #platonic love #bob Ross who?#There will be smut I promise #Az has baby fever?#elain archeron #feyre archeron #azriel

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underratedandoverit · 11 months

Note

oh god. first off, bless you for this. the feels are so much right now ;; as for the prompt, i was inspired by how clingy kip was lol. something that makes kip really happy happens (doing well in/winning a big match, finally get a win in his game after a long losing streak, etc) and the moment he sees oc, he jumps into his arms and clings to him all excited, wrapping his legs around him and kissing him. kip gets embarrassed at first when he realizes what he's doing, but oc won't let him go and kisses him back because he's just too damn cute when he's happy

~1,1k words orangekip (orange cassidy/kip sabian)

i tried to edit and proofread this, but keep in mind ive been awake for 24 hours so everything is a struggle lmao. i still think its cute tho, and i wanted to get this up before i crash for a nap, so hope you enjoy! 💜

boop at @stormbornpirate as well since you wanted to be tagged into everything ~

on ao3

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

Kip wasn’t sure how many times he had read the email over so far, but it had to be somewhere in the high tens at this point, maybe close to a hundred. And with every single reread, it was still sinking in for him that this was actually happening. The words on the phone screen seemed surreal, but after reading through them so many times Kip had managed to convince himself that they were actually real. This wasn’t just some kind of a cruel joke being played on him, this was real, and really happening.

His head snapped up and eyes shot away from the screen as Kip could hear lazy footsteps coming down the stairs, approaching the living room. Cassidy had been taking a nap for the past couple of hours while Kip had gotten the news, and as exciting as things had been, Kip just didn’t want to wake him up; Cassidy had been dealing with a rough weekly schedule and a long flight home the day prior, so Kip happily let him sleep for a while longer, while he was still taking in the news himself.

But now he was awake by the sound of it, prompting Kip to stand up from the couch just in time for the blond to appear in the living room doorway, Kip’s face lighting up immediately upon seeing the sleepy man standing there, running a hand through his hair as he yawned.

“Morni--”

Cassidy couldn’t finish the statement as Kip was already standing in front of him as he crossed the living room in just a handful of steps, grabbing a handful of his t-shirt as Kip pulled Cassidy closer, kissing him. Being half awake, it took Cassidy a moment to catch up to his speed, but eventually he laughed it off, replying back to the kiss, allowing it to deepen as Kip pressed himself tighter against him. Cassidy’s arms wrapped around his waist at first, but seeing as Kip was not going to let him go any time soon, he just went along with it, shifting his hands slightly and easily picking the other man into his arms. This turn of events was highly welcomed by Kip though, as he easily wrapped his legs around Cassidy’s midsection, restless hands running through his short hair as they were trying to find their place.

Cassidy wasn’t sure what brought this kind of behavior out of Kip all of a sudden. Not that he usually wasn’t needy or enjoyed their closeness, but he seemed more eager to be in his arms today than usual. Maybe it was the fact that they had been apart for an extra few days now and the time Cassidy had spent at home he had mostly been asleep so far, but even then usually Kip was at least laying in bed with him, just to be able to cuddle while Cassidy got the rest he needed.

It didn’t matter much though, he didn’t mind it. It was always very pleasant to have his boyfriend in his arms, not to mention to be able to kiss him, no matter the occasion or a lack thereof.

Kip finally broke the kiss apart, allowing both parties to catch their breath. It was almost as if only then he realized where he was, feeling Cassidy’s hands on the back of his thighs as he was firmly held in place in the air, his legs wrapped around the blond. An immediate shade of pink started to take over his face, Kip just trying to laugh the situation off awkwardly as his eyes looked away from Cassidy, clearly embarrassed over the situation his enthusiasm had put him into.

“Sorry, I-I got a little carried away.”

But Cassidy clearly wasn’t going to let him go, as he just leaned closer, pressing another kiss onto the side of Kip’s neck, trailing it up to his cheek, feeling the heat of it against his lips as Cassidy chuckled at him quietly.

“You’re never this eager for affection,” he teased Kip, watching the bashful look take over his entire face as Kip just looked around the two of them, finding everything else in the room clearly more interesting than Cassidy at the moment. “Did you miss me that much?”

Kip didn’t respond at first, but he could feel getting the control of his hands back, slowly starting to spin coils of Cassidy’s hair around his fingers as he was running his hands through it. “Well, ye-yeah that too.”

Cassidy tilted his head at him, offering the Brit a smile. Kip knew he was in this predicament until he would actually tell Cassidy the truth, the other man wasn’t going to let him down before that. And Cassidy had become really good at reading him, obviously knowing when he wasn’t telling the full story of something or otherwise lying, so there was really only one way out of this for him.

Kip finally looked back at him, his whole face twisting into a smile as soon as he laid eyes on the blond. “We’re going to Japan.”

Cassidy blinked at him, trying to process the message being relayed to him. “Japan?”

“Yeah!” He had heard Kip’s previous stories about his visits to the country in question, not being even a tiny bit surprised to hear his voice perk up in an excited tone. “I just got an email from Tony, they would love us to represent AEW over there for a few shows for DDT! You and I, wrestling in Japan – isn’t that amazing?”

Cassidy couldn’t hold Kip’s excitement against him, he knew from previous times spent there how much Kip loved not only the country, but also wrestling there. Clearly this was a big deal to him as Cassidy was fairly sure he had never seen Kip be this excited about sharing some news with him, going as far as basically jumping into his arms to deliver them.

“You’re gonna go with me, right?” Cassidy snapped back to reality from his tired, thoughtful state, immediately replying back with a nod. “Of course I will, you know you don’t even have to ask that.”

Beaming back at him, Kip gently pulled him closer by the back of his head, locking Cassidy into another excitement and passion filled kiss. Trying to keep track of his surroundings in the haze of his feelings in the moment, Cassidy carefully walked them up to the couch, slowly lowering Kip on it. As he could feel the legs unwrapping from around him, Cassidy sat down on his lap, making sure to never break the kiss as he did so, hands running through the other man’s bright colored hair to carefully pull him closer to himself again.

#fic #request #character: orange cassidy #character: kip sabian #ship: orangekip #aew fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction

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fablefics · 1 year

Text

My One and Only | Sebastian Sallow - Chapter Six

Word Count (Chapter): 1735

Spoiler Warning: like the whole game idk I make a lot of references so if you don’t want spoilers just don’t read this yet lmao

This is very slow-burn, it’s gonna be a long one, strap in.

A/N - Sorry for taking a little longer than expected to get this one up, it’s been a really shitty week. I’ve been reading more than I’ve been writing.

Fable had gone back to her cottage, and her beasts, to wait for an owl from Ominis. She felt very conflicted over what Ominis was asking her to do. She had no desire to return to Hogwarts, despite living in the shadow of the castle, she had never felt so far away from it. She had put all of the ancient magic business behind her, although not entirely by her own choice. She imagined what it would be like to go back, to live in the castle, eat the food cooked by the house elves, but instead of attending classes she would be helping to teach them. Helping Sebastian Sallow, of all people. She thought about the dream she had had the night before their reunion, and couldn’t deny that it was odd that she had dreamt of him right before seeing him again. The first time in five years that she had seen him.

Fable found herself daydreaming about her old friend when she heard the familiar cry of an owl. She looked to the window where a pure white barn owl was looking at her expectantly, framed by the rising sun behind it. The bird dropped a letter on the windowsill and took flight. She went to the window and watched it fly into the distance. She looked down at the envelope, it simply had her name written elegantly on the front and a wax seal on the back with the Gaunt family crest pressed into it. Fable thought it was odd that Ominis would continue to use his family’s crest despite not really having any connection to them. Perhaps it was just a way to show his importance, the Gaunt family was undeniably powerful.

Delicately, Fable opened the envelope and removed the letter.

Fable,

I spoke with Professor Weasley about our situation. She has agreed to allow you to join us for the term, however she cannot guarantee you will be allowed to stay for more than a single term, Professor Black is suspicious of the whole situation. I will come to collect you this evening.

O.G.

Fable took a deep breath, rereading the letter several times to make sure she was reading it correctly. She looked around her cottage, it was her home, but there was a part of her that knew it had never been her real home. She didn’t know if she had a real home anymore. She had lost touch with her family, and Hogwarts hadn’t felt like home in a long time. She decided that she would spend the rest of her day with the beasts. She wasn’t sure how often she’d be able to get away to see them, so she wanted to make the most of their time together before she left.

Time seemed to slip by too quickly for her liking as Fable sat in the vivarium watching the sun move across the sky. She had figured out a way to charm the ceiling to look like the sky outside, just so she knew how long she’d been in the vivarium. She knew that, given the chance, she would spend all day every day with her beasts. She was sitting on a simple stone bench watching the young thestral play with a niffler. She smiled as the two chased each other around a tree. Fable was content with this life, but she knew that it was her responsibility as a Keeper to protect the ancient magic, even if she had lost her connection to it. Finally, she decided it was time to leave. She said her goodbyes to as many beasts as she could find, and Highwing waited patiently for her near the door.

“My friend,” Fable stood by the hippogriff for a moment, stroking her soft white feathers, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, until then, you’re in charge.”

Fable wasn’t sure if the hippogriff could actually understand her, but it always seemed like she could. Sadly, Fable left the vivarium, magically sealing it behind her to keep the beasts safe, and promised herself she’d come back as soon as she could to check on them. She walked back across the yard to the cottage, but Ominis was already there, waiting patiently near the back door. He could hear her coming by the soft sound of her leather boots on the ground.

“I didn’t want to rush you,” Ominis smiled at her.

“I’m sorry, Ominis, I didn’t know you were already here,” Fable smiled back at him, “Let me gather my things and we can go.”

Ominis quietly followed her inside the cottage. He stood by the door, waiting for her to pack her things. Fable quickly grabbed her old trunk and started haphazardly tossing her clothes into it. The cottage was practically barren, she didn’t have much to pack. With how little time she spent in the cottage she wouldn’t be surprised if someone who stumbled across it assumed it was abandoned. There was a thin layer of dust that had settled on almost every inch of the home, besides her bed. She was grateful in that moment that Ominis couldn’t see the way she was living, she knew how it would seem to someone who didn’t know her life.

“Alright,” Fable finished tossing her clothes and supplies into the trunk and turned to face Ominis, “I guess I’m ready.”

“Well then,” Ominis held his hand out to the witch, “I guess it’s time to go.”

Fable took his hand at the two apparated to the castle grounds.

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

Fable stumbled a little when they reappeared, it had been years since she had apparated anywhere, and now, there was she was, standing before the castle that had been her home. She felt a shiver run down her spine, remembering what was buried below the castle and how close she had come to dying to protect it. Ominis could sense her anxiety, and he gently squeezed her hand, they hadn't released their grip just yet. Fable appreciated the small comfort from her old friend, but it did little to quell the nervous feeling that was boiling in her stomach.

“So,” Ominis finally released her hand, “I have to explain to you how this is going to work.”

“How what is going to work?” Fable tilted her head, even though Ominis couldn’t see it.

“Your job,” Ominis sighed, “Or at least, what Professor Weasley was willing to agree to. She told me that if I had asked to bring anyone else in to help with this, she would have said no, she made this exception for you, and you alone.”

Fable nodded, “I mean, I do have some first hand experience dealing with the ancient magic, so if something does happen, I’m the only one who knows what we’re up against.”

“Exactly, that’s why you’re here. But until something does happen, which we hope nothing does, your job is simple. You are going to help Sebastian prepare and teach his lessons, and when you are not doing that, you are to keep an eye on this student.”

“Okay so,” Fable laughed a little, “Exactly what we have already discussed?”

Ominis’ brow furrowed a little, remembering how frustrating Fable could be, she gave Sebastian a run for his money, “Yes.”

“What’s the student’s name?”

“Felix Price.”

Ominis didn’t say anything else, just walked ahead of Fable and opened the large doors into the castle. She felt the warmth rush over her as the two entered the stone corridors and began making their way towards the faculty tower. Fable felt strange, walking through the halls of the school. Everything felt exactly the same, like time had stopped in those halls for the past five years. It even smelled the same, Fable took a deep breath. Cinnamon and pumpkin. She paused as the two of them reached the door to the faculty tower. Fable had only been past this door a few times when she was at Hogwarts, the first at the request of Mr. Moon. She wondered if the old caretaker was still lurking around the grounds.

“The other professors have not been told about your joining us yet,” Ominis turned to her, “Your situation is unique, so they’ll likely be confused about why you are here. It may be best to keep the true reason to ourselves for now.”

Fable had heard something similar from Professor Fig, years ago, “So what should I say?”

“Tell them you are here to assist Sebastian with Defense Against the Dark Arts, and myself with preparations for the new student.”

“Won’t be the first time I’ve lied to most of them,” Fable sighed, times really had not changed since fifth year.

“It’s not too late yet, so you may run into some of them yet tonight, but I want to show you to your room before I leave.”

“Before you leave?” Fable was surprised, “You’re going somewhere?”

“I have meetings at the Ministry for the rest of the week, but I’ll return a few days before the year starts, don’t worry. I won’t leave you alone with Sebastian for too long,” Ominis smirked.

What’s that look for? Fable wondered.

Ominis opened the faculty tower door and led Fable to her room. It was on the first floor of the tower, and according to Ominis, it was right across from Sebastian’s room, so if she needed him, he wasn’t far. Fable couldn’t imagine what she would need him for, but appreciated that she wasn’t on her own in this situation. After settling into her room, Ominis’ said his goodbyes and mentioned that he wanted to speak with Professor Sharp before he left. Before she knew it, Fable was on her own, sitting in her room in the Hogwarts faculty tower. The room was completely plain. As far as Fable could tell, nobody had lived in this room for a while, it was probably a spare room for unique situations, like hers. She wondered if she’d every have a normal situation at Hogwarts.

As she sat on her bed, debating what to do with the rest of the night she found herself slipping in and out of consciousness. Before she knew it, she had slipped into the dark emptiness of sleep. Although it was early, she was exhausted, so much had happened in such a short span of time. As she slept she dreamt of Ranrok, ancient magic, and Sebastian.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian x mc #my one and only fablefics

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notcolleen · 2 years

Text

good morning this post is …not abt my eating disorder 😮

(it’s a coworker rant lol) (it got …..long 👀) (i started early this morning and am now finishing hrs later without changing times so sorry if some things don’t add up time wise) (not that ppl other than myself would know? but tumblr anons have me paranoid that everyone thinks im lying abt every little thing lmao)

[[MORE]]

anyway this has been a pretty solo trip for me, but im technically here with another woman from nj as well, whom i actually met last year working this same camp so we knew each other and have now spent over 3 weeks together total, not super long in the grand scheme of life but long enough to say we know each other

and i don’t dislike her at all, but this week it became a lot more clear that we are really different ppl, both professionally and just in life lol

and i kinda like that despite working at the same job/staying in the same hotel, we both quietly acknowledged that it could end there and we didn’t have to do things off the clock together. i didn’t see her at all outside of our work hours lol and that was fine.

but during work, she sat on her phone at a table away from the kids, and when she did need to “engage” with them, it was yelling. i heard her say “what is wrong with you??” or “why are you crying?” to 6 year olds too many times this week (1 time is too many times, 4 is ??? like why are you working in childcare) — and that is just what i heard, she ‘opened’ and i ‘closed’ so there were two hours each day where we were on our own and i dread thinking of how she spoke to them then 👀

on that note, she was supposed to clock in at 7am — get things set up, plan out the day a little, whatever. but every morning we would have an awkward moment where i would see her sitting in the hotel lobby eating breakfast as the time crept past 7 and she would still have to factor in the uber there and all i could think was what if i kid came early or if her uber didn’t get her there by 7:30 (when kids could arrive)??

but i would try to just drink my coffee and pretend i wasn’t aware of the time lol and i know she was annoyed that she had to wake up to open (bc she certainly lmk that) but i had to stay until the last kid got picked up (and parents were not always the most punctual coming from work ☠️) and then clean up so i was there until after my scheduled time each day, there were no early days that she kept telling me to ✨enjoy (also we are getting paid?? that’s why we’re here??)

but we are in the same role here — i am not her supervisor, i didnt feel comfortable correcting or redirecting her, i can’t give her training on how to speak to kids

….still, in the end, i did feel like i put a lot more work bc kids are smart and intuitive and are gonna go to whom they feel comfortable with — so even if i was trying to put stuff away or talk to a parent or whatever….even with her right there in front of them….they would ask/find me.

(i will say, it says something that by the end of the week they finally had learned my name and still didn’t even seem to know she was working there with me lol, or she was “the other teacher” ……like i don’t think im good at much, but i do know im good at interacting with / treating kids with the respect they deserve)

anyway i had started this post mostly to say that it’s also very telling that she clocked out of our last shift saying “ill see you when i see you” even though we took the same flight here, i booked our uber from the airport to the hotel together, and we have the same flight back — but just based on our endings vibes, i didn’t reach out to see if she wanted to share an uber there this morning**

i think she’s also upset with me bc we were both offered the opportunity to travel again with the company after this — and both told that it would be “either oklahoma or texas” — and both definitely preferred texas over oklahoma — and i made the mistake of telling her i emailed one of the higher ups voicing my discomfort with OK (mostly just thinking out loud before i sent the email) and even though i received this (wonderfully validating 👀) reply back:

it ended up that i was chosen to go to TX and she will be going to OK and i feel like she assumes the email played a role / that i used my discomfort as leverage. idk, i should have just waited it out but i was anxious abt it and when im anxious i tend to ramble/voice my inner dialogue and that’s what happened — it also lead to me basically coming out to her (if she hadn’t already figured that one out ☠️) and even before the decisions were made re: locations but after that, i felt a shift in our dynamic and overall it was just a mess after that day lol

**and now when i arrived at the airport, it turns out our original flight was delayed so much that we had to reschedule to guarantee making the connection……but she hadn’t checked in yet so idk what’s happening with hers……all i know is that our boss booked our flights so it’s all linked together and it wouldn’t show my boarding pass, only hers, so it kept trying to check her in when i just wanted it to register my boarding pass for pdx—>ord—->ewr instead of pdx—>den—>ewr and i was so anxious i was gonna miss my flight and so proud of myself for not crying when a very nice woman helped me out ……but then! 😔 i did cry bc when i mobile ordered a pumpkin load from starbucks…..waited 20 minutes for it…..told myself i could keep waiting bc i have done my time as a barista and know how annoying customers are……waited another 10 but then saw my ticket behind the screen so knew it had gotten lost in the shuffle and i would actually literally miss my flight if i didn’t ask the barista…..only to be told they were out, but would i be okay with a lemon loaf instead?…….no 🥴 not really 🥴 but am i anxious bc food still want to scratch my skin off when it’s not exactly what i want it to be? 🥴 yes 🥴

so i have to say that’s fine ! thank you so much ! have a good day ! 😌

anyway that’s when i took my lemon loaf and cried on the way to my plane

and here i sit

winning the secret competition for longest tumblr posts abt the most mundane things ever 😌 cya

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writingbywatson · 3 years

Text

Genshin Boys With A Dense Crush (Part 2)

Here is part 2~ so, the reason why I didn't include Bennett and Razor is the fact that I can never write for them, like IDK why but its just very hard for me. So yeah, sorry about that. Part 1 (Albedo, Childe and Diluc)

Chongyun

Dense + Dense = more dense

It was painfully obvious that Chongyun likes you but for some reason, he can’t quite figure that out for himself

But everyone around them knows

Xingqiu is actually on the road to writing a book about the two of you

Xiangling, Xinyan, Hu Tao, and Yan Fei are betting on how long until Chongyun realizes his feelings

Chongyun doesn’t know why he likes to see you every day, wants to have meals with you, and why he gets uncomfortable when he sees you with another person and smiling at them

Maybe it was the work of g-

“Oh I like them” -Chongyun one day when he woke up

He consulted his best friend Xingqiu about this and Xingqiu just placed his books down and said “dear archons finally, it was getting very painful to watch”

So the two started planning a cute little confession scenario

Somewhere Xinyan and Yan Fei are crying because they lost the best but Yan Fei is arguing that betting was illegal and has no ground in the law… Yan Fei, you betted with your conscience please stop

Anyway!

The pair of best friends decided to go with a simple type of confession because less is more in Xingqiu’s books

It was going so well, a cute dinner and all of that

“I like you Y/N, can we be more than that?”

Oh is that Xingqiu, Xiangling, Xinyan, Hu Tao, and Yan Fei spying on both of you from the bushes? Why, yes indeed.

“You want to be best friends Chongyun? But don’t you have Xingqiu as your best friend already?” - you with your ever so innocent voice and expression

Chongyun is frozen in place

Xingqiu, Xiangling, Xinyan, Hu Tao and Yan Fei are betting again this time how many times will Chongyun get a friendzone

Kaeya

Someone revive him

He can’t take your dense nature anymore

This is Kaeya after all everything he does allude to something so WHY WON'T YOU GET IT STILL

“Oh, Kaeya? You like someone!? Can you introduce me to them?” - you asking excitedly upon hearing his and Rosaria’s conversation

Kaeya was pretty sure he was describing you

Rosaria is holding back her laugh, she can't breathe… SOMEONE SAVE HER

“I love them but this dense attitude is too much!” - Kaeya as he slams his fist on top of Diluc’s bar

“Have you tried wooing them?” - Diluc as his wiping a glass down, he's so nonchalant about this situation LMAO

“HAVE I TRIED?” - Kaeya sounding very offended

“How about getting a white bed sheet and painting “will you marry me Y/N” on it?” - Rosaria

“Yeah, they leave me no ch-”

“Sit down, don’t embarrass yourself like a child” - Diluc pushing his brother down to sit

“HOW WILL I GET MY FEELINGS ACROSS THOUGH!”

“Just confess, normally… like… a normal person” - Diluc

Kaeya decided that in two days time he was going to confess to you, two days because he needed to make sure it was perfect

But the moment he saw you laughing with some random guy all the planning was thrown out the window

“Meet me in front of the church when the sun rises” - Kaeya to you when he passes by you at the corridor of the headquarters

When you arrived, he made you stand at the flight of stairs in front of the church while he went down

He kneeled with his right knee touching the ground and he pulled a very neatly folded white sheet from his pocket

He unraveled it and wrote, “WILL YOU MARRY ME Y/N?”

But even before you can react a thunderous shouting can be heard and a chuckle

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? I SAID CONFESS NORMALLY!” -Diluc

Thoma

I’m going to try but still little info on this new pyro husband

Thoma is a very understanding boy

He likes you so much that he's willing to wait

But damn has he been waiting long

He decided he was going to confess to you today as well!

“Y/N! I like you!” - Thoma

“I like you too! You are like my best friend!” - you

Every time this happens Thoma stress eats.

Ayaka is giggling because he has never seen her friend like this

He's trying his best for you to like him, he cooks for you, takes care of you, guards you, protects you…

WHAT IS HE DOING WRONG!?

“You know the festival is ongoing” -Ayato as he watches his sister’s friend mop around like a puppy who has been kicked. “Why don’t you try confessing properly and straight-forwardly there?”

That gave him an idea

He dragged to the talisman-wishing thing and told you that you two should make one

When the both of you were done, you should each other what you made and to your surprise, Thoma made a drawing of the both of you holding hands

“It’s not us being best friends forever” - he clarified

“It’s me hoping to spend many more years beside you as your lover.”

Venti

Barbatos aka Venti the Bard has been singing a lot of love songs lately

Especially when you were in the audience watching

He always likes your smile especially when you were watching him

So when the two of you were strolling around near the church of Monstad

He decided that he was going to confess today

Years of being alone and he finally get what Vanessa told him about meeting the right person

“Y/N, I love you-”

“Aww, Venti, I love you too!”

“Really?!” - Venti very excitedly

“Yeah! I love you as a friend! We’re like besties!”

Dvalin felt that

Andrius felt that

Hell even Vanessa felt that from Celestia

“Oh I got to go, bestie, I have something to do! See you tomorrow!”

Lately, the winds of Monstad have been depressing?

“I don’t understand! I thought they liked me back!” Venti his chugging his alcohol while Diluc looked at him in irritation

Diluc wants to kick him out but Venti is Monstad’s archon so he decided against it

“Venti! There you are!” - you

Venti hears your voice and because his drunk his happy instead of upset

He throws himself at you in an attempt of a sloppy hug

“Y/N! I love you~”

“I love you too, we are fr-”

“NO! I LOVE YOU LIKE A SIGNIFICANT OTHER I LOVE YOU! THAT TYPE OF LOVE THAT IF YOU ASK ME TO FIGHT MORAX I WOULD!”

Xiao

When Xiao first had these feelings he was confused

He lived a long life and this was the first time in his life where when he sees someone his chest becomes constricted and warm

“Xiao! Do you like traveler!?” - you excitedly

Xiao felt a tightening in his chest not that good type but am i being stab right now type of tightening

His answer would usually be along the lines of no and he can’t have relationships with mortals

He usually has a lot more patience with you compared to others but hearing you say that he looks good with someone else just made something in him snap

He didn’t mean to shout at you nor did he mean it when he said you should leave him alone

That’s why he's waiting for you at Wangshun Inn, his loneliness grew into worry when after 2 days you weren’t back yet

Upon eavesdropping around he also found out that no one has seen you and your last known location was Mt. Hulao and he immediately began to worry because that place was prohibited to humans

“Are you looking for someone?” - Mountain Sharper appeared behind Xiao as he reached the top of Mt. Hulao. “Are you looking for a mortal perhaps?”

“How did-”

“-That mortal is pretty noisy, they don’t stop talking and they know you.”

Oh, the warm feeling in his chest is back because they were talking about him which means that they weren’t angry at him!

“Where are they!?” Xiao would realize and I swear to you his ready to break every amber rock around Mt.Hulao

“Calm down, they are currently collecting Qingxin flowers”

Right on cue, “XIAO!? IS THAT YOU!?” he heard your voice from behind him, when he saw you, he immediately rushes to you and hugs you

“What are you doing here!?” Xiao would ask, his voice was raised only because of relief

“Oh, I got lost! And Moon Sharper here saw me, we ended up chatting and I guess I forgot the time, he shared so many stories about y- WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE THAT ARE YOU HURT!?”

“I’m alright… I just… I m-miss…”

Moon Sharper is just looking at this scene and he knows he's about to spill the hottest tea next time the adeptus (idk plural form okay) have a dinner party

Xingqiu

At first glance, it might look like that he isn’t affected at all

But internal his boiling

WHY WERE YOU SO DENSE

IF IT WEREN’T FOR HIS CLAN'S TEACHING AND WHAT NOT HIS PROBABLY ABOUT TO ASK YOU FOR A FIGHT

“You’ll make a great husband someday Xingqiu, I know it! Your future wife would be so happy!”

“I want you to be my wife though”

“What was that?”

“NOTHING!”

He knows he needs to move so he can win your heart but how can he when you were dodging every advance he makes

What is more frustrating is that YOU ARE NOT EVEN DOING IT ON PURPOSE

As an author he wants to experience romance first hand, so he tries to be romantic about it but this was frustrating

He decided to pull his last technique from his sleeves

He lent you a very romantic book and between one of the pages he inserted a paper that read “I wish for you to be my muse.”

If that doesn’t work Xingqiu is going to ask you to fight him

Zhongli

Zhongli, Rex Lapis aka Morax has lived thousands of years

Yet this is the first time he encountered someone so dense at first he taught you were just kidding and pretending but when he described what he likes in someone which was pertaining to you

You simply said “WOW THEY SOUND WONDERFUL AND YOU MUST REALLY LIKE THEM BECAUSE YOU SOUND SO IN LOVE” at his face with genuine awe, there was no sign of you being flustered and whatnot

Hu Tao was there to witness this and the younger female had a good laugh when she witnessed this

Zhongli is now praying to Guizhong for help and patience

He first wondered if the reason for such behavior was because you dislike him but it wasn’t the case because you would always smile when you see him

Which makes his knees very weak

In heaven, all the dead gods are laughing at him

He has lived for so many years and yet he doesn’t know what to do because he wants to spend years with you

But a part of him says this isn’t right because his an immortal and you were a mortal, someday him being a former god would drive an enigma in the future

That’s why he was also hesitating on his part

“Zhongli, look-look! A merchant from Monstad gave me a Cecilia!” - you snapping him from his thought, he's a tall man so you had to tip-toe to put the flower in his hair

“There you look even prettier now!” - you smiling up to him

As you were withdrawing your hand, Zhongli grabs it and places it in front of his lips

“I love you Y/N”

222 notes · View notes

stargirlfics · 4 years

Text

Waiting Game

Henry Cavill x Black Female Reader

Summary: You end up quarantined with Henry just months into dating and now you’re both left to deal with your growing connection as well as the rising sexual tension

Warnings: 18+, smut: masturbation, slight voyeurism, general filth, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, nothing too rough or crazy in this one (i know i’m shocked myself lmao)

Word Count: 5.4k

——————————————————————————

Waking up to Henry every day now made you feel like you were living in a dream, only that it was very much reality. Nothing could compare to the feeling of his arms draped over your body or his face buried in your neck while the sun slowly made its ascent.

Each of these mornings in your new normal was spent tangled in each other’s embrace, all soft touches and hushed sighs and whispers of content because you were here and he was here and this felt like heaven in a time where panic and stress were high.

It had actually been Henry’s suggestion that you stay with him for however long quarantine would be in effect and as much as you insisted that you didn’t want to intrude, you also couldn’t deny that the idea appealed to you a great deal.

Things were still rather new since you’d only been together for a few months and the idea of staying with him for what was looking like an open-ended amount of time was scary yet exciting. It would allow you endless amounts of time with him but you also worried it would eventually drive you apart somehow like your relationship wasn’t ready for this quite yet.

“I just don’t want you to worry about trying to catch a flight and then being at the airport with so many people around. I think it’s just that I’d worry way too much to be comfortable and then end up annoying you every hour asking how you are.”

Henry sighed beside you the day you brought up the topic, hints of frustration in his voice as you ruffled his hair, combing it back with your fingers, the two of you gazing at the TV screen, unfolding world events settling a blanket of unease over your lives.

Smiling to yourself you let your fingers slip down over his jaw to tilt his head so he’d look at you, “You sure you aren’t also worried that if I do go back you’d miss me too much to bear? Cause as much as I don’t want to overstay your invitation here, I don’t know how I’d cope with not knowing when I can actually see you next.”

His eyes softened and a smile curled over his lips at your words. There was truth to them he couldn’t deny that.

“That’s definitely a part of it, yes. You also wouldn’t be overstaying any invitation, baby. I want you here, consider my place a second home for you. I know we’re taking things slow, but I also want you to know that I want you around.”

It made your heart melt all over again and you didn’t hesitate to clamber into his lap to hug him close, pressing a million kisses over his cheeks and nose.

“You’re the best, you know. I’d be happy to stay with you. It’s like a test run for actually moving in together.”

Now it was your turn to receive his kisses which shortly turned into you trying to squirm away from the way his stubble tickled your skin.

“Exactly. Now let’s get that suitcase of yours unpacked again.”

---

Some of the nervous energy around the new living situation seemed to dissipate as the weeks passed and you and Henry established routines with each other, a balance had been found.

Moving around each other within the same space felt easy, you became so in touch with how he liked to keep his house, his habits, everything down to the smallest of things.

It felt peaceful despite the chaos and worry everywhere else, you felt like you were in your own private haven with him, like he was keeping you grounded and sane.

Evenings were spent cooking dinner together over a bottle of wine and Kal pattering about at your feet, Henry bantering about a new game he’d been playing and then just about anything and everything in between that. There were hours where you would each be doing separate things and it felt great to do your respective hobbies, only made that much better because you knew the other was just a room away.

Time seemed to meld together in a strange way, becoming a culmination of taking walks with Henry, watching Kal chase squirrels in the yard, sitting in Henry’s lap as you watched the sunset together, taking naps, cuddling on the couch as a movie played and cleaning up the house together when needed, and though there were a few small ridiculous arguments, everything about being cooped up with each other was fun, a new adventure every day, building your relationship piece by piece.

There was something under the surface of all that bonding that went rather unsaid, however, and it was slowly occupying your mind. The physicality of everything.

No matter how hard you tried to keep it at bay, there were so many times throughout the day you’d catch yourself daydreaming about being more physical, more intimate with Henry, and what it would be like and it didn’t help that he looked how he did either.

It’s not like Henry didn’t notice too, as slick as you thought you were being. He could see your eyes lingering on him at times, or the way you’d sneak glances at him, especially when he was changing or just in a towel after showering or getting a workout in.

It was funny to him how you tried to cover it up, always just skirting around the edges of the topic. He knew he didn’t make it easy for you either because he was truly trying to get you flustered and turned on.

Truthfully, there hadn’t been much happening past heavy makeout sessions, part of the whole taking it slow thing. It had been a mutual decision so it wasn’t that big of a deal but Henry could sense the tension building and he knew you were thinking of it, knew you were wanting more too.

He wasn’t sure to what extent your desire held but he wanted to be a gentleman and give you space to feel comfortable enough to approach him about it when you were ready so for now, he stuck to his game of subtle teasing.

That was all subject change, however, when he heard you talking to your friends on a Skype call one afternoon.

You thought he wouldn’t be back from his run for another hour so you weren’t really paying attention to much else besides what your friends were talking about.

It felt good to catch up with them and though it wasn’t the same as hanging out in real life, seeing their faces made you happy. Along with the very raunchy and chaotic conversations taking place.

“Ok but wait, it’s been a whole month of being stuck together and you guys aren’t fucking like rabbits yet? Girl, I don’t know how you two do it, no hate but get on that dick sis!”

You couldn’t help but pause and burst into laughter at that statement which was then echoed by the rest of the girls on the call, leaving you trying to hide your face because well...they were really calling you out.

“We both agreed to take things slow! I feel like I’m more nervous than he is about it but honestly I think it might happen soon, or at least I want it to.”

“I don’t blame you, his dick probably literally shoots diamonds when he cums,” one of your friends chimed in again, sending everyone into another fit of laughter.

She was probably right in all honesty.

“Exactly, he’s just so...arousing, even when he’s not trying to be or doing anything sexual. Half the time he’ll just be sitting on the couch or walking around and I’ll be staring at him thinking, please just break me…”

“You know he wants some of that chocolate!”

“It’s what you deserve, babe!”

“Like, I could go on for hours about how amazing he treats me and how respectful and considerate he is and how he’s just so kind and gentle with me, it’s a dream finally being treated that way but then I’m also like please make my pussy sore, make me cry, rearrange all my organs and realign my damn pelvis before I go crazy,” you were giggling like schoolgirls now, your cheeks burning as you realized that you’d actually said that out loud.

It was the truth, though.

“I..yeah that’s really a mood, and we all know he’s more than capable and I’m sure it’s gonna happen for you, just start initiating stuff, tell him you wanna go a little further and before you know it you’re gonna need a new bed frame or something.”

You took all their advice into consideration, trying to boost your confidence enough to broach the subject with him. It’s not that you were worried he’d say no or anything it’s just that he had this ability to get you so worked up without even trying and voicing your desires was hard sometimes when your mind felt all foggy like your brain was emitting little heart emojis constantly, blocking your ability to think clearly.

The group was laughing so loud, you along with them that you hadn’t realized Henry had come back and just in time to catch a lot of what you had said.

A grin stayed plastered on his face as he tried to tiptoe around and remake his entry so you weren’t suspicious that he’d heard anything, but god were your words heavy on his mind.

It made his pants tight below the belt to know you wanted him to “rearrange your organs” cause that’s exactly what he dreamed of doing. You had no idea of the things running through his head about you half the time, how he wanted to bend your legs back and watch you as he fingered you, how he wanted to taste you, be buried inside you so deep the feeling stayed with you for days.

Every time cuddling with Henry turned into kissing, turned into making out, turned into dry humping each other a little, he wanted nothing more than to keep going and make you feel good, make you scream and cum over and over, and it seemed like you were just as eager for the same thing.

The only thing Henry was torn between was letting you come to him first or if he should bring it up instead, he knew how he could have some fun with both, there was always room for some mischief but for now, Henry thought to let you sleep on it, draw out your desperation a little more just to test you.

---

A few days later and your desire was creeping up to a steady high, your body and mind restless with need since speaking to your friends about it.

You woke to an empty bed that morning, your body instantly gravitating towards Henry’s side, still warm and indented from where his body had been. Footsteps and cabinets being opened could be heard downstairs and you gathered that he’d gotten up to feed Kal and probably start breakfast.

At the thought of breakfast your stomach rumbled but you were far too content with your face buried in Henry’s pillow to want to move and then there was also the ache between your thighs that didn’t help matters.

A thought popped into your head, sending a thrill through your body before your hand was acting on its own, snaking down to slip under your panties, finding that sensitive spot you had been depriving yourself of touching for a while now.

You figured Henry would call your name or you’d hear him coming up the steps once breakfast was ready so that gave you some time to rub one out and sate yourself for a bit. It felt so naughty to be touching yourself in his bed, his in house when he was just a few feet away from finding out but you couldn’t stop yourself.

Your mind wandered to the last time things got a little hot and heavy, your free hand mimicking how Henry’s own hands had been on your body as you kissed fervently. Little moans and gasps fell from your lips as much as you tried to keep quiet as you spread your legs a little more, positioning your body how you liked, your fingers now slick and rubbing at your clit slowly, building up pressure and speed.

The covers were pushed back by your feet as you began to buck your hips up, grinding them against your hand, chasing that high you were on right to the edge. You were just so lost in what you were feeling and doing that you hadn’t noticed things go rather quiet downstairs.

Henry had just let Kal back in the house and was on his way back upstairs to ask you what you wanted for breakfast when he stopped at the first step, a certain noise piquing his interest.

It sounded like a whine, familiar to the ones he’d often here when he was busy kissing your neck. He was just beginning to think he hadn’t heard what he thought after all when it happened again, only much louder, followed by the breathy moan of his name, making his heart beat just a little faster.

Taking the stairs as carefully and quietly as possible, Henry made his way to the bedroom, biting his lip when your moans got clearer and more distinct. He could only imagine what you would look like touching yourself but wasn’t at all prepared for the reality of it when he discreetly peeked his head through the doorway, catching you in the act, in his bed, whimpering his name.

His jaw dropped slightly as he took your form in, eyes fixating on every part of you, trying to commit it all to memory because it was everything, it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, to watch you like this completely unaware, just you in the moment, getting yourself off. He desperately wanted to know what you were imagining because if that conversation he overhead showed him anything is that you had a slew of dirty fantasies about him.

Your hips rolled and he had to stop himself from disturbing you to give you a hand, he didn’t want to startle you and embarrass you, he knew you’d feel that way about it. But fuck, it was hot watching you, his breath hitching every time you’d spread your legs just a little wider, giving him a glimpse of how slick and pretty your pussy was. He wanted nothing more than to get his hands and his mouth and his cock all over it.

The sound you made when you reached the peak, a strangled cry muffled by you biting his pillow was something he wanted to hear over and over again and Henry was dead set on getting that out of you, to see if he could bring you just as much pleasure if not more.

He stuck around to watch you come down from the high, your eyes still closed and legs trembling as fought to catch your breath. As much as he wanted to stay, his eyes glued to you, he had better plans for how he wanted to initiate things later so he reluctantly and carefully backed away, returning to the kitchen to make you something extra special for breakfast.

---

Later that night, after dinner, you were nestled against Henry’s side, your leg draped over him as you continued binge-watching something on Netflix you’d started the other day.

Your body was acutely aware of how close you were to him and how his hand was playing with the waistband of your leggings, distracting you, making your mind wander to that dirty place again. Was he doing this on purpose or did he really not know how enticing he was? You decided that he had to be doing all this intentionally.

Without putting too much thought into it and letting yourself overthink, you pushed your ass out and up a little, making his hand brush over it, something you knew he noticed judging by the way his breathing deepened slightly.

The characters on screen were talking but the tension was so thick you swore all you could hear was each other breathing, both your hearts clashing in your chests. You were starting to wonder if you’d made the wrong move when he spoke.

“I see your little private party this morning wasn’t enough to satisfy you all the way.” he took a deep breath, shifting you just slightly in his arms so you were closer, his hand returning to play with your leggings.

No, there was no way he was talking about what you thought but the more his words sank in the more you couldn’t deny that he had somehow heard you touching yourself this morning and you were almost frozen in place, refusing to lift your head from his chest to look at him, you couldn’t.

Your vision bobbed as he chuckled, the deep timbre of his voice stirring your desires even more. Gosh, he was impossible, he knew exactly how to get in your head.

“Don’t be embarrassed, love. I enjoyed watching, that was the hottest thing ever, watching you get off thinking of me,” Henry was grinning at how your head shot up and you turned to look at him.

“You saw me too? Henry!” you had to look away from his eyes, fearing you wouldn’t be able to find a way out of them if you stared too long, heat flooding your cheeks again only this time spreading throughout your body.

“Shh, it’s ok. I didn’t wanna startle you but really, don’t be embarrassed because that was amazing. Can you look at me?” his voice still held hunger but was considerably softer now, that alone letting you know he was being genuine.

You sighed, chewing at your bottom lip as you slowly looked back at him, eyes fluttering when his hand came out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

Henry gazed at you, licking his lips slow, taking his time admiring the richness of your skin tone against the dim lighting, then down to how your chest heaved slightly, how your hands trembled just a little, how you were clenching your thighs together too. Nothing went unnoticed. Henry saw you for you, every part of you, and accepted and cherished and wanted every part too.

The tv had faded to the background as you sat there quietly, just looking at each other, almost like you were both trying to decide who was to move first. The tension hung heavy, the energy flowing between you almost overwhelming but you pushed through it, forcing yourself to confront Henry’s gaze.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, just say the word and it all stops.”

Henry’s eyes were hooded and darker now, his hand still cupping your cheek as if to let you know it was ok. He was giving you an opportunity and you felt ready, you felt wanted and desired and had the same exact same feelings to give too, you weren’t gonna hold yourself back anymore.

“I want it. I want you, Henry.”

It came out shakier than you had planned but it was all the confirmation he needed, your body surging forward as his arms came around your middle, lifting you with ease and settling you back down in his lap.

Your body moved and did before your mind had time to really register anything but you didn’t care, Henry’s lips were on yours again and his hands were gripping your body, tugging at your clothes, his hips pressing up into you just slightly, testing out the waters, earning you a laugh when you pushed back against him, grinding your core against his lap, searching for any friction you could get.

“So greedy, already huh.”

“That’s all your fault, really. Please, Hen just…” you trailed off, catching your breath as he continued to trail kisses down your neck, spending time on your shoulders and collarbone.

“Just what? Have to tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

The nerve of him. But it’s not like you wouldn’t do anything he asked either.

“W-want you to touch me, please.”

“I am, love,” he grunted before swatting your ass.

“Henry! Please, it’s not fair! I want you to touch me, really touch me.”

You whined and bounced in his lap a little, giving him puppy eyes and whining because he was being such a tease and you were this close to losing it.

“Alright, alright. I know, I’ve toyed with you enough. C’mere.”

Settling back in his embrace, your lips reconnected, the world going black behind your eyelids as you focused on him underneath you.

His hands were gentle but with an unmistakable urgency to them as he worked to rid you of your top, tugging at your leggings too, just needing your bare skin on his. He was so strong and built that you felt completely surrounded despite being on top.

Your hands came to rest on his shoulders, your fingers re-familiarizing themselves with the thick corded muscles there, your body shuddering as you felt the power underneath every movement he made.

Being in his lap was your favorite place and it was even better now that you were practically grinding against his thigh, whimpers and pleas catching in your throat as he kept his lips on your body, intent on kissing every part of you.

As much as you both wanted to take your time, you just couldn’t wait, there would be plenty of time to go slow, elaborate on everything but tonight the fire was at its peak and neither of you could stop yourselves.

Henry moved so that you were laying back against the couch now, one of his knees balanced on the cushion next to you as he stripped you down, tossing your clothes and along with his shirt across the room.

You felt so exposed to him, your body instinctively curling up to hide a little, playing coy by crossing your legs, to which his hands stopped swiftly, coaxing your legs apart.

He held eye contact with you as his hands moved up your calves, kneading the skin of your thighs before finally, his fingers slid up your folds to settle on your clit where he began to rub.

“Already so wet for me, look at you. How’s that feel, darling?”

You could barely speak as your eyes went back and forth between where his hand was and his face, your mouth agape, tiny squeaks and whimpers filling the air as he applying a little more pressure and sped up his movements, going back down to collect some of your arousal on his fingers again.

“Oh-oh, baby it feels so good, please!”

Henry couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, completely mesmerized by your naked form, by how soft and warm you were, how badly he wanted to taste you too. You were beyond beautiful to him.

Your hips moved up against his hand, chasing that pressure that was already building in your core, you wanted to keep your eyes open but what Henry was doing was making it so hard and then he slipped a finger inside, and then another once he found how eagerly you took it, your whimpers turning into louder and louder moans.

“Just breathe, baby. Good girl, I know my fingers are so much bigger than yours.” Henry smirked, getting closer to you, pressing chaste kisses to your thigh as he worked his fingers into you, curling them up once he found the spot he was looking for, making you gasp as he began to pull his arm back and forth, stimulating you there.

It was so much better, so much more intense than your own fingers, you felt so full you never wanted him to stop. It was crazy how Henry has such an effect on you, he was already breaking you down with just his fingers and the way he was speaking to you, making you feel so small compared to him in every regard and you only craved more.

He pulled you back against his chest, allowing you to get more comfortable while he fingered you nice and slow, giving you just a little taste, his mouth occupied with other parts of your body. Henry loved seeing you this way, surrendering yourself to what you were feeling, and to know it was him making you moan and claw at his arms.

You nearly cried when he pulled his fingers away eventually, already missing the feeling but your frustration was soon replaced with a newfound speechlessness as you watched Henry bring his soaked fingers up to his lips to taste, audibly moaning.

He was so dirty and you wanted every part of it.

You didn’t give much protest when he reached for you again, lifting you up into his arms and whisking you away, taking that time to do some teasing of your own, leaving kisses and pretty purple marks along his shoulders as he carried you upstairs to bed.

When he set you down on the bed you reached for his waist, surprised at your confidence when you tugged at his jeans, your hand gently palming over the very obvious bulge there. You gasped when you realized just how big he was even through the material, your eyes darting up to meet his again, feeling empowered by what you saw.

He helped you discard his jeans, guiding your hands with his own in touching him. He was thick and heavy in your hands and it made you ache even more thinking of him fucking into you and how full you would feel and he knew exactly what you were thinking too, he could see it in the way you pouted and licked your lips, marveling at him as he twitched in your hands.

“Can I…” you hesitated for a moment, wanting to do so much but not sure of where to even start.

“You can do whatever you like, love. You’re so beautiful like this.”

Nobody before him could compare, his body, his cock, his words, everything about him was exquisite and yours, all yours and you didn’t waste time.

Henry inhaled sharply when your wet tongue darted out to lick over his tip, and that soon turned to a groan when you wrapped your lips around it. It was incredibly hot watching you drool over his length, getting it nice and wet before adding your hands at the base, twisting up and down while your mouth took more and more of him in.

“Christ, sweetheart!”

Henry’s head fell back as more breathy moans and grunts came from his throat and that spurred you on even more, your tongue sliding down and up over the ridges of his shaft. You marveled at the way he stretched your mouth wide, your eyes fluttering at how big he really was, and how much you wanted him to wreck your shit.

You slurped and moaned eagerly, wanting to show him that you could be just as dirty as he was, that this was always on your mind.

And to him you were doing a damn good job, nothing could compare to the way your hands and mouth felt on him, he’d dreamed about this for nights and now you were in front of him and he just wanted to give you the world for treating him so well.

As much as Henry wanted you to stay exactly like that, gagging on his dick, his desire to actually fuck you outweighed anything else and you weren’t going to complain as he pulled you off him, gently laying you on your back against the sheets.

You were so wet you could feel your inner thighs slick with it and you knew Henry could too, your legs spreading on their own now to wrap around his torso, keeping him close to you.

His body felt so massive hovering over you and you took a moment to let your fingertips ghost up over his arms, his biceps, down over the hair on his chest, lower to his abdomen where he shuddered, and even lower still, holding his shaft gently as you moved your hips up, coating him in your juices.

“You’re gonna kill me, angel. I meant it, earlier, say the word and we can stop if you need.”

“I know and I appreciate you making sure it’s ok but I really want this, please. I might cry if you don’t fuck me into this bed right now, I wanna be ruined by the morning.”

“Noted,” he chuckled and leaned in to brush his nose against yours, giving you a kiss before pressing his forehead against yours, “I’ll take it slow.”

One slow deep breath and you were gasping as he lined himself up and slowly pushed into you, both of you groaning.

His hands were braced on either side of you, the gravity and weight of his body keeping you in place as he gave you time to adjust, smiling in between grunts as he gave in to your walls, cursing into the shell of your ear.

“F-fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

“More please, baby I need more!”

You gazed up at him, thankful he was so close because you needed something to anchor yourself to and the strength of his body was perfect for it.

Henry listened to your pleas, moving with caution but giving you what you wanted at the same time, bottoming out inside you, pressing kisses to your neck as you both took a second to feel it out, the fullness, the way your bodies were so connected and tangled in each other.

And then he really began to fuck you, pulling his hips back slightly before moving back in, hitting so many spots inside you, you could barely breathe.

“That’s it, that’s the spot huh, good girl. Just breathe, look at me,” Henry nipped at your earlobe before moving his head back to gaze upon your face, admiring how fucked out you looked already, your eyes glazed over, brows knitted together and your mouth fallen open in that pretty shape.

His voice was giving a command, gentle and coaxing of course but a command nonetheless and even in the haze of things you followed, expelling the breath you’d been holding in and looking him in the eyes, every part of you surrendering to him.

You trusted him, he could see it, feel it in the way you relaxed your body, wrapped your arms around his neck and hung onto him, giving him the go-ahead to pound into you.

Henry pushed his knees up a little more, making yours fall back further to your chest, almost over his shoulders, but he kept them where they were, deciding you weren’t quite ready for that yet.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he snapped his hips forward, lewd sounds of your flesh against his, and both your moans reverberated through the room, neither of you caring about anything but each other and how amazing every tiny movement felt.

Henry buried his face in your neck, growling in your ear when you tugged at his hair, his body slamming into you, filling you up deep and hard exactly like you’d been needing for so long. You couldn’t get enough and you begged him not to stop, to which he only went harder, eliciting screams and curses from you that he was thrilled to hear.

You’d both been waiting for so long, holding out on each other and now every pent up desire and frustration was spilling out and you didn’t care if he fucked you all night, just as long as this feeling, this connection never stopped.

Henry couldn’t wait to explore this side of you more in the days to come and neither could you, you had a feeling you weren’t going to be leaving this bed for quite some time and you were more than happy to see where this would lead.

No more waiting, it was just you and Henry and the unspoken agreement to let your desires and feelings flow freely.

---

A/N: Ahhh this man makes me feral I stg, someone make him pay for emotional distress! I hope this was good tho and didn’t feel rushed or anything and that you enjoyed it!!

Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think, thirst with me!!

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echos-newlegs · 3 years

Note

Hi there lovely! Can we see 46 with crosshair x fem! Reader? ❤️

Got you

Bro oh my goodness yes 😳 deadass the moment I read this I had gotten done sighting one of my deer rifles and I got an idea from it and this prompt allows me to use that idea so thank you 😎 I wasn’t doing anything illegal. It was all safe and I was at a shooting range lmao. I just had an idea from it 💀

Tbh I thought this would be better but then I decided to write at midnight.

Ner Sarad: My Flower

Crosshair x Reader: “Isn’t this illegal?” “I mean, probably?”

Warnings: reader is using a gun. Bit detailed on shooting because yes. No one is injured besides Your guys egos and a door. There is swearing and kissing/making out ig.

There wasn't many times that you actually caught some proper rest. You were normally always kept up by nightmares or the noises in the room or outside. Whether it be lying in your bunk on Kamino, or the one on the Marauder.

Though, whenever you did catch a break. It seemed like you were always awoken by one of the boys. For no reason most the time.

You groaned, eyes snapping open. You nearly punched whoever it was throwing stuff at you. Looking down to your legs to see your boots and your blacks. "C'mon." You heard Crosshairs voice. He had been ignoring you for the past month. You figured it was just his mood swings, you did something, or it was the fact Hunter demanded Crosshair taught you how to use the rifle.

You didn't really want to if he wasn't up for teaching you. Though it would be neat. You were never a fan of being in the middle of the war field like the rest of them, and Hunter caught on. Which is why he figured having two people on rifle wouldn't hurt.

"What are you doing? Where are we going?" You asked and Crosshair looked back. Though you were moving out of the bunk with your clothes in arm. Making way for the fresher. "We're target practicing, now hurry before I change my mind." He scoffed and you nearly ran into the fresher with a grin.

Not only was Cross taking time out of his 'busy' schedule to hang out with you, but he would be target practicing with you.

You exited the fresher in your customized blacks the Bad Batch got for you. Tech figured it would be good, being you had your own armor. Some that matched their design.

You sat back on the bed, strapping on your leg pieces and crotch piece only. Since that's all Crosshair had on.

When you left the room and entered the main room of the Marauder you reached for your blaster on a shelf, but he stopped you. Shoving your hand away from it. Putting his rifle in your hand instead. "Here," he gruffed, and your eyes widened. Fingers curling around the forestock.

"You trust me enough to let me use your own gun?" You asked with a small smile, brows raised. He only shrugged and sighed. Walking past you to the door. You took that as a yes. Him handing you a container of ammo and motioning with his head for you to follow.

You had a slight pep in your step. Hands carefully holding the gun. The stock pressed against your shoulder. Barrel pointing down.

When the two of you left the ship you were both squinting. The rising sun hitting your eyes. Both of you letting out a slight hiss. "Should of brought our helmets," you commented, and he grunted. "Can't aim with a visor like yours." You sighed, that wasn't what you meant. There was no use arguing and pissing him off though.

Your boots crunched against the ground. A mix of loose rocks, grass, sticks, and other plants. "Where we heading," he motioned forward. Not saying where though. Typical.

The planet you were on was for a mission. You had all completed the mission but were all too exhausted to leave. It didn't pose a threat since it was a simple find and retrieve mission. Some weird crystals and lost items for a senator. 'We went from guard dogs to kriffing pets playing fetch,' you had commented the day before. All of them, even Crosshair agreed with you. It was boring, to say the least. The search wore you all out though.

Your legs were beginning to sting a bit. The walking wasn't something you weren't used to. It was the injury you had from the previous mission. Though you did your best to keep up with the long legged man. "Gunna have to get used to keeping up, Ner sarad." You rolled your eyes and sighed. “You better not be calling names, you know I can’t understand Mando’a.” You added with a sliver of a whine laced in your voice.

He smirked at your comment, thankful you were somewhat behind him so you couldn’t see. “That’s the point,” you shook your head. Catching up beside him finally. Though he did slow down just a hair. He wouldn’t admit it. “Turn,” he shoved you a bit and you glared. Turning where he told you to, then he took the lead again.

The turn led to an abandoned building. A flight of stairs connected to the outside. Cross pausing in front of it, then looking to you. “Waiting for Hunter to wake up or you scared?” Cross spoke and you snickered. “Making me go first and you’re calling me scared, typical.” He sneered a bit at that as you purposely ran into his shoulder on your way to the stairs. Keeping the gun up from the steps as you made your way up.

He was close behind you, almost too close, actually. So when you stopped at the top he nearly ran into your back. Making you smirk as you looked back to him. Not saying anything. “What?” He snapped, and you shook your head. “Oh nothing.” “Sure, go over there.” He motioned vaguely with his hand as he walked off into the other direction.

You could only assume he meant near the little ledge near the end of the roof. Standing there a bit awkwardly until he returned with some pieces of shrapnel and pots. Varying in sizes. “A’ight, Sarad, you know how to use a rifle, right?” He asked, and you nodded. “Yeah,” “load it for me then.” That was no problem. Taking some of the bullets from the container he brought. You popped open the magazine, slipped a few bullets in, then slipped it back into the gun. Pulling back the lever then pushing it forward again with a click.

He nodded, standing behind you now. “Y’ever shot one?” He asked, helping you bring it to your shoulder. You could barely process the question. Your heart was racing. You could almost feel his back up against yours. His hands holding yours to help you bring the gun up. Repositioning your hands. Then letting go of you to see if your would falter. Though you kept the position.

“Not for a long while, I used to with my brother, when we were kids,” you spoke. Grunting when he kicked your feet apart, then went back to standing by your side. He only hummed, looking around in front of you two. Then pointed. “See that door,” you nodded. “Shoot at the white square in the middle.” He twirled his toothpick in between his teeth and you sighed.

“Isn’t this illegal?” You asked, aiming the weapon. Closing your left eye as you peered through the scope. Poking your tongue out of your mouth in concentration. “I mean, probably.” He murmured. Watching you with folded arms.

You barely heard what he said. Inhaling, then holding your breath as you aimed. Once you had the spot, you exhaled slowly. Finger squeezing the trigger.

When the weapon fired your grip loosened. Shoulder jerking back with the gun. Causing the scope to smack around your eye. You winced, letting out a sharp hiss. Heart racing and ears ringing from the loud bang.

Crosshair was too focused on where you were aiming to even notice you just scoped yourself. “Nice,” he approved. Then looked back over to you.

You leant back a bit, back against the wall. Fingers feeling under your eye and he instantly knew what you did. “Thought you knew how to shoot.” His voice was sour, and it stung. “I told you I haven’t shot in a while,” you spat back. Bringing your fingers from your face. Wondering if it was bruised. It felt wet, but there was no blood on your fingers. So you assumed it was a mix of the tears that sprung to your eyes and the sweat on your hands.

You were too focused on the ringing in your ears and the stinging of your face to even notice Crosshair approach you. He took the gun, leaning it against the wall. Then grabbed your wrists, making you flinch. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he was trying to reassure you, but his voice was still hard and sour. “Let me look.”

You looked up to him, lips pressed in a line. He brought a hand to your cheek. Finger pressing lightly against the skin under your eye. Making you flinch and tears threaten to spill. “Kriff, don’t do that,” you snapped and he smirked a bit. “Should have at least told me to keep the gun hugged to my shoulder.” You protested. Eyes darting to the side. Avoiding his gaze the best you could.

He pulled the toothpick from out between his lips. “Probably still woulda done it. If you haven’t shot for years.” His hand was still on your cheek. You were sure he could feel it heating up. Letting out a sharp exhale through your nose. “Are we still gunna shoot or just stand around like a bunch of morons?” You asked, looking back to him. Catching the short glimpse of shock on his face.

“You still wanna shoot?” He asked. Dropping his hands to his sides. Nodding. “Yeah, so what I got scoped, least I have proof you actually took me shooting.” You smirked. Making him chuckle. Lips tugging up, just shy of a smile. “And if I don’t let you?” “I ask hunter what Ner Sarad means and I tell everyone you gave me the black eye I’m most likely going to have.” You threatened. Jabbing your finger at his chest. Making him roll his eyes and sigh.

“Fine.”

The shooting went on great. You were a better aim than he expected. Which made you feel a bit proud of yourself. Especially since Crosshair was praising you in some way. You still needed work on flying targets, but you were sure you’d get the hang of it.

Once the container of bullets he brought was empty, that was when you guys decided on leaving.

“So what does it mean?” You asked. Cross now holding the gun, you holding the empty container. Arms more sore than they’ve ever been. You honestly weren’t sure how he did it. “What’s what mean?” He asked, looking over to you. You nodded your head up a bit. “Ner Sarad.” The words rolled off your tongue, slightly mimicking his gruff voice.

He scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t sound like that..” “oh, you’re right, it’s more a Ner Saraaad.” You made the voice worse sounding, making you giggle. Cross smiling just a bit, then looking away. As if he showed you he was enjoying this moment his everything would crash and burn. “Guess.” You groaned, throwing your head back. “No, you know I hate guessing games, they kriffing suck.” He shrugged. That was it, a shrug. “Fine.” He smirked at that.

You thought for a moment or two. Fingers tapping the side of the container. Biting on your bottom lip a bit. “Hmm. Idiot,” “no,” “bitch,” “no,” “smart ass?” He sighed and you raised a brow. “Warm or cold?” He looked over to you, a look of unamusement written all over his face. “You’re on Hoth at this point.” His words made you want to give up more.

“Can I have a hint?” He nodded, stopping in his tracks. “Wait here,” he spoke. Then wandered off the trail you were both following. What could it be? Was he finding something? “Are you calling me a loser? Loner? Oh! You’re calling me a jackass.” You hollered, hearing a grumble follow your spew. Making you snicker.

When he returned he had a small purple flower in between his fingers. You stared at it with knitted brows. “A flower?” You spoke, dumbfounded. You looked up to his face. His jaw was clenched, eyes darting around. Cheeks red. “You’re calling me a flower? No, you ass you’re calling me a weed aren’t you?” You asked, folding your arms over your chest. The last thing you expected was the nickname to be something nice.

He sighed, looking at you with an ‘are you serious.’ Look. “What?” “You really are an idiot, sometimes,” you blinked, and then raised a brow. “You’re a stubborn shit, sometimes, too.” You told him, and he still held the flower in his hand. The two of you staring at one another for a moment. “Can you just tell me?” You spoke, “please?”

He sighed, looking up at the sky for a moment. Then back down to meet your eyes. “Ner Sarad, it means..” he trailed off. Swallowing thickly. He could lie, say it meant something else, but then the flower would make no sense, and you were smart. You would figure it out some way or another. “My flower.” He murmured. You could barely hear him. But you did. “Your what-“ “I’m not repeating myself, Makers sake.” He spat, and began walking again. Dropping the flower as he stormed off.

You were left standing there in disbelief. Shaking your head, you reached down to pick up the flower, then ran after him. “Cross, wait!” You shouted, yielding when he stopped. “What?” He snarled. Turning to look at you over his shoulder. You backed up a bit. Watching as his face softened a bit when you looked back to him. “Why a flower?” You asked, and his eyes looked down to the flower in between your fingers now. Sarting his tongue out to lick his lips.

He let out a sigh, thinking. He wasn’t sure what to say. He was horrible with words, let alone explaining things. “You remind me of them,” was all he said. “Why though?” You pressed, walking towards him. “If you don’t mind me asking..” you added, catching that he did look a bit anxious. Watching as he leaned his rifle against a tree. “They’re hum.. Maker..” he breathed out. Reaching up to pull the toothpick from his lips. Flicking it onto the ground. He reached out, grabbing you by the side of your face and pulled you in for a kiss.

His lips pressed against yours. Eyes squeezed shut. He knew he’d regret this right after, but he was better with actions than words anyways. You tensed up, hands rushing to his chest. Dropping the container and the flower in the process.

He pulled back. Taking a step back in the process. Hands brought back to himself, and it left you standing there staring. He hated you. How you smelt so good, how you intoxicated his every thought. How you could get him to talk more than even his brothers could. How your smile made his stomach feel light and fluttery. He despised you for everything you did to him. No other persons ever made him feel this way and he hated it. He felt to vulnerable, and that was something he shouldn’t feel. He was a clone, a defective one for that matter. This shouldn’t be a thing that was happening.

You could tell his mind was running a mile a minute when you said his name and he just stared at you with a blank stare. He was overthinking this, and you began panicking a bit internally. “Cross, hey, look at me, come back to me, Cross.” You spoke, voice soft and quiet. You made a move to reach up and cup his face, but his hands fled to your wrists. Looking down at you and to your eyes. Scanning you for something. “Why aren’t you mad?” He spoke, voice stinging into your skin.

You frowned, pushing forward from his grasp to cup his face. His hands still holding your wrists. You saw him relax for a second at your touch. “I’m not mad,” “but why? I just kissed you..” he spoke. Once now laced with distress. His walls were beginning to crack. Chip away and crumble all from your touch. “Crosshair, I understand, I know how you are with words. You fucking suck with em.” He frowned a bit at that, and you smiled. “Actions have always been your forte, and who’s to say I didn’t enjoy it?” You asked, your own nerves calming a bit as you attempted to reassure the lanky man.

He looked down at you with furrowed brows. “You’re just saying that.” You tittered, leaning up a bit. “You’re just stubborn.” He watched you for a moment. Your hands removing themselves from his face. Crosshairs fingers fell from your wrists. Falling to his side, but you weren’t done. “You gunna give up over a little rushed kiss, or you wanna try again?” You murmured, hands reaching for his. Fingers interlacing with one another.

“Thought you told me once you’ve kissed plenty of girls,” you teased. “It’s been a while.” Standing on your tip toes to lean in closer. “Then how bout we practice?” You asked, closing the gap between the two of you.

It was smoother than the last. You led it this time. Your hands leaving one another’s so your hands could wander his body. Tips of your fingers running up his stomach. Then running your hands over his chest to rest on his shoulders.

He had one hand on your lower back, the other moving to trace the skin of your throat. Long fingers running over your collar bone, then sliding up the back of your neck to place firmly against the back of your head.

Once the feeling was set he took over. The two of you pulling from the kiss for once a second, then his lips were back on yours. It wasn’t long before he was walking you back against a tree. Pressing you up against it which make you grunt. His tongue darting out to run over your lips. Then pry your lips open. A small hum escaping your chest. Making him smirk.

His hand on your lower back mover to cup your ass. Eyes parting a bit to see him open his eyes at the same time. You were too dazed to complain though. His tongue exploring your mouth. Then pulling back. A sting of saliva connecting your mouths.

The both of you were panting. Trying to catch your breathes after that little ordeal. “Practiced enough?” You managed, and he looked down a bit. Making your face heat up even more. If that were even possible. “No,” he deadpanned. Lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss. Then trailed down your jaw.

Once his lips met the skin of your neck it was all hunting ground to him. His teeth grazing your skin. Biting here and there. Sucking, leaving marks. He wanted the others to know that something went on. He wanted the regs at 79’s tonight to know that you were now his. Or at least in your eyes you were. His flower, his everything.

You both let out a groan when you heard Crosshairs comm go off. “Cross answer it,” you spoke in a near moan as he sucked on a sensitive patch of skin. Making him pull off with a grunt. His hands releasing you, letting you slump against the tree. “Crosshair, where are you and y/n?” He heard Tech on the other end. “We were shooting the rifle, we’ll be back in a bit,” “Cross-“ he shut off the com link. Turning back to face you with a small smirk as he looked you over. You were still a bit disheveled as you attempted to fix your shirt and your hair. Then leant over to pick up the container. Crosshair picking up the flower. “Hm?” You hummed as he reached over. Tucking it behind your ear. “There, Ner Sarad.”

You couldn’t help but smile, looking up to him with a loving gaze. “I hate you, sometimes,” you murmured. Giving him a quick kiss, then began walking for the marauder again. “Right back at you, y/n.”

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captainsimagines · 3 years

Text

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Nine

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 9 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: strong language; use of a derogatory slur/racist language (not said by any main character); mentions of blood and injuries; angst!

Word Count: 11,200+

A/N: One more chapter after this - I should really stop labeling this as a mini-series considering it’s already over 100,000 total words lmao. Thank you for staying with me this long! I love you guys soooo much!!!

Utah Merry Hotel, January 2025, 2:09pm

“I’m being an ol’ sport, why can’t you?” You whine, stomping your feet as you trudged up the stairs to the hotel roof. “It’s our first serious stakeout in forever! I’m pretty sure Wanda shaved her legs for this.”

Steve shoots a flustered and unsettled look over his shoulder. He’s lugging the rifles and extra equipment on both his shoulders so you know he’s truly baffled because to even attempt a look over… well, that required real effort. He doesn’t answer, however; he continues upward.

Bucky and Clint are following close behind. They’re tired, huffing every few steps and grunting while doing so. Finally, Bucky whines and throws himself against the wall dramatically. “Remind me why we couldn’t just get Wanda and Sam to lift us up there?”

Steve readjusts one of the rifle straps while he replies, “Buck, I told you not to skip leg day.”

“I skip ‘everything’ day. I’m just now employed as a superhero, thank you very much. The serum should be enough.”

“Are we even close?” Clint asks and passes Bucky on a few steps. Bucky takes that as a challenge though and hoists himself more steps before giving up again.

You just watch in pure amusement. Makes you really proud that your thighs are stronger than theirs. “Just a few more flights.”

They both groan in unison. Steve has already rounded the next flight, no longer waiting on the three of you. It takes several more minutes until you kick open the roof door Steve had left slightly ajar. It’s cold outside, wind howling with icy droplets whipping through your hair. It’s only fifty stories up but it’s pretty high - you can see the tops of the trees, or branches really. It’s winter in Utah and most of the trees are naked and covered in snow. You hope Bucky and Clint, the dynamic duo no one saw coming, still have good aim in this wind after a year of vacation.

“Alright. Buck - Clint, set up over there. Y/N, you’re over there.”

“Aye Aye, Captain.”

You set up where Steve instructed. You’ve got a simple magnifier and some binoculars - you won’t have to do any shooting today, thank the Gods. Clint’s got his arrows and Bucky’s got his sniper. Steve’s waiting for a signal from Sam if need be - he won’t need to shoot today either.

“Wanda and Sam will let us know when the cars pass the barrier. The tech cannot, under any circumstances, pass through the gate right over there.” Steve points to the giant, black coated metal gate. There’s no one on duty. You made sure to evacuate the area and any staff before. The tech these goons are bringing in is all stolen Stark Tech. And according to Happy, strict instructions are to ‘blow it to Hell’.

“And if it does?” Bucky asks, grinning mischievously at Steve’s pointed look.

“What’d I just say?”

Bucky laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. “Damn, Stevie. Calm thyne tits.” He goes back to fiddling with his rifle. “Blow the tires before they reach the gates but after they pass the barrier. Got it.”

“Peter, you in position?” Steve asks and adjusts his earpiece.

You can hear Peter over your own mic. “Seatbelts look easy enough to break. I’m in position, I can easily pull them from the trucks.”

“Five minutes then.”

You all settle in. The cold has passed through the leather of your boots and your toes are paying the price. It makes you miss the rain of spring and the sprinkles of fall, when everything is drenched rather than frozen and your toes still have mobility. Your jacket is big enough but it scratches your neck every time you lean down to look through the magnifier. As the minutes tick by, you brave the cold and take it off. You’d rather conduct your part efficiently and without the constant distraction.

“It’s almost forty degrees out,” Steve mumbles beside you. He’s looking over the roof balcony and into the trees. He’s squints and refuses your offer of binoculars.

“So I get a sore throat.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Tony put a heater in all our suits. You should have worn yours.”

“My suit is half nano. It’s excessive for a stakeout.”

He huffs but you ignore him, choosing to look through the rejected binoculars instead. He shuffles, and then there’s a warm weight enveloping your shoulders. It’s his sweater, cotton and baby blue, and he lifts the hood to cover your cheeks and ears. Your stomach flip-flops.

“Uh, thank you,” you say and zip it closed.

Steve shrugs lightly, “Don’t mention it.”

So you don’t. He doesn’t look cold besides or he’s just really good at masking it. It’s quiet now; you can’t really hear the quiet mutters of Clint and Bucky enough to join in and to not mention the jacket is eating at you. You opt for a casual conversation instead while you wait.

“Soooo… how’d your date go last week?”

Steve clears his throat and turns to you, a forced grin on his face. “They, uh, they were sweet.”

“Sweet,” you repeat, nodding at nothing and cursing yourself for creating such an awkward moment. “Going on a second one?”

He sighs and his expression actually turns truthful. “No, don’t see that happening.”

For a second, you’re appalled. Who wouldn’t give Steve a second date? He’s an absolute catch and being a famous superhero wasn’t exactly a dealbreaker for many. Or maybe it was and Steve was blaming his alias once again for no fairytale ending. “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t want you?”

The words leave your mouth too quickly to reel them back in. Steve’s cheeks turn pinker, both from your words and the chill, and he ducks his head low as he answers. “It’s my fault, really. They were sweet but I wasn’t paying much attention.”

“Mm, on your phone? Daydreaming? Were they a bore?”

Steve chuckles, “I pulled out my phone, like, once to answer a text but I was a proper gentleman!”

The tension is slowly melting and there’s a soft twinkle in his eye as he laughs. It’s been so long since he’s looked at you this way: on his own accord and not on order. “Bucky said they were, and I quote,” you lower your voice and look over at Bucky to make sure he’s distracted. “‘Cute as hell’.”

Steve gives Bucky a warm look. “Eh, it’s fine. Wasn’t the one.”

“The one,” you mock in a deep voice. “Who texted you that it was so important to ignore someone cute as hell?”

Steve hesitates and looks over the balcony as if wishing for an interruption. But the trucks aren’t near yet and Sam hasn’t given the signal. “Uh, it was Peter.”

“Oh, don’t tell him that. He’ll feel incredibly guilty if he ruined your chances at getting laid.”

Steve shoves your shoulder a bit harder than he intended and it makes you stumble back. He quickly catches you by the arm and holds you still, a sheepish smile painting his pink face. He mumbles a quick ‘sorry’, and goes back to lean over the railing. “It’s cool, he knew.”

You fake a surprised gasp, “Even worse!”

“He needed me to stop by the compound and I did. Really, it’s okay,” Steve assures and he’s speaking a little quicker. He fidgets with his thumbs and it looks like he wants to wrap up that portion of the conversation. But he looks over at you and sighs deeply, and he rolls his eyes as his upper lip tilts upward. “Ask.”

“What’d he want?” It makes your belly all warm to know he expects this enthusiasm from you.

“Wanted me around. Buck and Wanda were out getting dinner.”

“Yeah, but like, what for?”

He gives you a knowing smile, like you walked right into that trap. “You made dinner but Peter was too nice to say he didn’t enjoy it, so he texted me knowing I would like it. Knowing I had it before. He didn’t want there to be leftovers because then you’d be sad.”

You step back and shake your head like there’s a fly swarming around. It startles you. “You left your date… during dinner… to come to the compound to eat the dinner I made instead?”

“Don’t think too much about it.”

“How not?”

It’s five minutes when Sam calls it in. You groan in frustration and give Steve a look that says the conversation isn’t over.

There are four armored vehicles and the magnifier illuminates three bodies per car. The targets will be hit starting from the last to keep the explosions out of each driver’s line of sight.

“Target acquired,” Bucky mumbles and clicks off his safety. He closes one eye and settles comfortably as he awaits Steve’s signal.

Clint tugs back an arrow, “Same here, Cap.”

“Wanda, you ready?” Steve’s voice is lower when he’s focused. He looks over at you, your hand up with an index finger raised, and waits. Wanda answers that she’s ready and Sam counts it down. The first truck crosses the barrier, then the next, next, and finally the fourth and you drop your hand in a fast swipe.

“Fire! Go Parker!”

Bucky shoots the back tires of all four vehicles and Clint shoots his arrows to penetrate through the passenger doors. Peter works fast, webs slinging from side to side grabbing one passenger right after the other. Once the trucks are empty, Clint activates the arrows and you all prepare for the explosions. The fourth car catches flame first and Wanda contains the explosion perfectly, balling it up into a weak bundle of light and string. She does the same to the third and second, bundles extinguishing just as quickly as they burst. But the first car swings out of control on manual and the explosion is delayed.

“Clint?”

Clint leans over the balcony and squints, as if it would help. “I don’t know. It’s not going off.” He’s clicking the detonator repeatedly, holding it up for all of you to see.

“Wanda, the truck! The truck! Sam!” You scream as the truck crashes through the gate and hurls closer to the hotel. The commotion is enough for Bucky to pop out from his cover and the four of you watch in horror as the truck still doesn’t stop. Clint has stopped clicking the button, but it’s no use. The truck finally explodes in an outbreak of debris and electricity. The Stark Tech reacts poorly to the strain, electric gusts of smoke fire left and right and rattle the building. It feels like an earthquake, shaking the already weak foundations and old brick. Wanda catches the bottom to better contain it and tries desperately to smother it. But the shaking doesn’t stop and the corners of the roof are collapsing.

Steve leaps to grab and pull you away and just as quickly to catch Clint’s leg before he falls over the edge. Clint is thrown back rather harshly but Steve isn’t thinking about the abuse of strength right now - no, not while Bucky slips and hangs on to a rogue pipe. Steve crawls and latches onto his hand before the pipe gives way. He yells as he tugs Bucky up with only one arm, the other having to hold onto undisturbed brick. He won't let Bucky fall. Not again.

Bucky throws his leg up and over solid ground, and you go to help Steve pull him up. Bucky’s heavy and his metal hand pinches your skin bad but he’s safe. Wanda struggles to contain the electricity but she’s succeeding. The rumbling slows until nothing moves anymore. You collapse back in exhaustion.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned,” Bucky gasps as he rubs his face.

“Is Wanda okay?” You mumble more to yourself and struggle to pull yourself back up. But the sudden weight of your body proves too much for the edge and in a horrible wave, you’re falling through. You practically file your nails as you try to latch onto falling brick.

“No!” You feel the scratch of someone’s fingers along your forearm and soon they’re digging into your skin, and it hurts but you figure it’s better than splitting your skull open. Pebbles of concrete are falling down onto your face and the smoke from the explosion is clogging your nostrils. You hang for a few seconds, like the person can’t believe they actually caught you. Then they begin pulling you up, lifting you to safety, and you claw the rest of the way only to tumble into Steve’s chest, shaking.

He pulls you into his arms but they’re restless, roaming over your shoulders and through your knotted hair clumsily. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His voice wavers and he’s on the verge of tears, it seems. His waterline is glossy and his lips are quivering. “Answer me.”

“I’m fine, hey. Steve? I’m good.”

He pulls away and his hands hover you like he doesn’t know what else to do with them. “I’m sorry. I should have kept you close. I-” His voice cracks and he swallows hard. “You sure you’re okay?”

Disregarding his words is difficult, especially when you feel a second meaning to them, but you force yourself to do so. It’s been such a long time since you’ve seen him like this. And each time you have, it was never because of anything good. “Y-yeah. I’m good, Rogers.”

Bucky and Clint look at each other, they look at Steve, to you, and back to each other. Finally, Clint breaks the silence and huffs a light chuckle. “Are we really THAT rusty?”

Present Day, 2025, 11:45pm

The Montana skies are clear and free of passenger planes, allowing the Quinjet to swift easily on autopilot. You could never drive this thing and the building anxiety of that reality bubbles each time it makes an unsteady bounce.

Steve’s laying in the makeshift medical wing and though it’s against protocol, he’s on a secure line with Dr. Cho. She takes her time, albeit working as fast as possible too, and her light voice is fairly calm. It settles you to hear her speak this way.

‘I need you to use this disinfectant, Captain Rogers. Do not pour it on all at once… Good, now dig through gently and make sure the pliers are sanitized.’

Steve digs out the bullets himself and bites down on a clean towel. He’s biting down hard enough that his teeth make a squeaking sound against it. It takes every ounce of your willpower to not do it for him. The Montana skies are beautiful, at least. It’s a good distraction.

Steve gives a rather painful yell as he finally plucks the second bullet, cursing as a stream of blood drips onto the table. He’s got such tough skin - miracle or serum - that the bullets didn’t pass all the way through. Dr. Cho moves on to how to properly bandage the wound but Steve begins to tune her out.

Two years mucking through mud and bodies and getting patched up every other day has prepared him for whatever life may throw during this new century. Not much has changed, it seems.

When the line disconnects, Steve can finally just relax. He focuses on the soft rumble of the engine and your steady breaths.

You hold your breath as you settle the Quinjet on the open field, only half of you actually trusting automatic tech. Steve coaches you the whole time too, the little shit, and promises you’ll never be doing that again.

Steve stumbles and teeters and falls on the porch steps with a low groan. You let him fall because you know you’d only fall with him. He catches himself with the hand he’s been pressing over the bandage while the other still holds on to you. You fight the urge to crash down with him and bite your lip as you look up to the night sky.

“C’mon, Rogers,” you swallow down the increasing worry, “We’re almost inside.”

Steve huffs a pained laugh and nods. He grabs your arm again and with his remaining strength, pulls himself up,

The inside of the cabin looks comfier than the outside. You help Steve to the couch closest to the unlit fireplace before going out back to turn on the power. There’s a thin layer of ice in the grass so just in case, you scope out the garage and make sure there are snow supplies. Not that you really know what the hell snow supplies actually look like, but there’s a shovel and you figure that’s as much as your brain is going to piece together.

When you get back inside, Steve’s fumbling with the coffee maker and leaving tiny fingerprints of blood over every surface he touches. You don’t comment on them, just step back and discreetly wipe the counters each time he passes.

“Figured you’d like a pot,” Steve says.

It damn near breaks your heart how small his voice sounds. The fact he’s stumbling around the cabin making sure you’ve got your coffee fix while he’s nursing two bullet wounds damn near snaps it in two.

“Thank you,” you respond and go to lead him back to the couch. He moans quietly when he sits and again as you lay him down. “I hope you don’t think I’m sleeping here,” Steve laughs and tries to hide his wince due the uncomfortable rumble.

You smile and touch your hand to his hot cheek. His body is working overtime fighting off infection and regenerating tissue. His cheeks are a lovely scarlet red and so is the beautiful bulb of his crooked nose. He’s a little shiny, like varnish over light paint strokes, and taking the fever like a champ. “I’ll help you to the bed in a little bit. Let’s get that fever down first.”

Steve sighs, defeated, but nods. He lays his head back on the pillow and once he shuts his eyes, you get to work. The bathroom is stocked with the simple necessities: aloe vera, vapor rub, heating and cold pads, dozens of towels, and painkillers. You pop two painkillers yourself before gathering everything and dropping it on a nearby table in the kitchen. The coffee is about done brewing so you fill up a mug with bottled water and set it in the microwave for two minutes. You dip a chamomile tea bag a few times once the water is heated. There’s no teapot - you’ll apologize to Steve later.

Once Steve’s happily sipping his tea, you start on the medicine. You wet the small towels and lay them over his forehead and bare chest. You rub aloe vera on the other cuts he obtained from hand-to-hand and finally rub the vapor rub in the dip of his neck and just below his nose. Steve gives you this funny smile as you do so, scrunching his nose and wiggling it back and forth.

“Vicks,” you say as you show him the small container. “Heal you right up.”

“I bet,” he laughs. “Stuff smells like what I think liquid morphine would taste.” A laugh bursts from your chest, your first real instance of calm during these last few hours. You ignore his protests and smother more across his chest.

Steve settles deeper into the couch and returns to his tea. He’s got less sweat on his skin now but he’s still red. You go to pour yourself that coffee and return to his side. The nanotech is growing stiffer and scratching your skin but you refuse to get comfortable until Steve’s fever breaks. You’re still covered in Ernesto’s blood, the red now a hellish brown, and you try not to move your face much for risk of feeling the dry pull of it.

“Steve,” you try, but Steve shakes his head and makes sure to meet your gaze before he speaks.

“No. The less I know the better.”

It surprises you, makes you feel more guilty, but you understand. Not telling him the full truth would be beneficial in the long run. Still, your hands hug the mug closer to your chest. “Do you think I did something bad?”

His upper lip tugs upward, “Do you think you did something bad?”

You don’t think for long. There’s not much need to. “No.”

He nods, “But you care what I think?”

“Of course I do. You’re not just my Captain anymore - you’re my friend. I care even when I’m asking you if my eggs need more salt.”

“You trust me enough to correct your cooking?” He teases, but it’s a question disguised as another.

“I trust you enough to tell me if I need more salt. You’re not correcting it.” He laughs and dips deeper into the couch. The bandage is bleeding through, only slightly, so you move to find the first-aid kit.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’ll stop bleeding soon.”

You hum your disagreement. “I’m gonna keep it clean until you’re strong enough to shower.”

“You can always help me shower,” he mumbles into his tea.

Rolling your eyes, you gently nudge his shoulder as you sit back down with the kit. “If you fall, I can’t catch you, you big lug. We’d have to tell everyone we screwed in there because you falling on top of me, injured, is somehow more embarrassing.”

He allows you to remove the soiled bandage and dab around the healing wounds. He’s bruising around the sides, multiple shades of green and yellow already, and the holes are stitched rather poorly. It makes you feel a little better about your own criss-cross work - even Steve sucks at it.

“I’m sorry I had to go and get myself shot,” Steve apologizes and sucks in a deep breath when the towel drags a little too roughly.

“Yeah, what the hell happened there?”

He almost mimics you in the way he shrugs his shoulders and lifts his arms in that ‘well, fuck if I know’ position, pursing his lips and expelling a chuckle. “Had my gun trained on Ernesto. Ernesto had his own on Ramirez. Then Seda came in and Ernesto ordered Ramirez to hand his over to Seda. Played right into Seda’s hands.”

You process the explanation slowly and dab his wound a few more times before unwrapping the clean bandage. “And the damn shield?”

Steve’s embarrassed by that small detail, he’ll admit it, because he truly was blindsided by Seda’s appearance. You were supposed to be holding him down after all. “In my defense! When it’s shrunk down and in your pocket rather than latched onto one’s arm, it’s easily forgettable.”

You clean around the wound softly before placing and taping the new bandage. The conversation settles and you’re both quiet for a long, long minute. He thanks you for cleaning him up by rubbing sweet circles into the knuckles of your right hand. Finally, you can’t take it anymore. It’s like a wave of irrefutable worry and rage, all bunched together with each emotion trying to outweigh the other. That goddamn riptide, sucking you in and keeping your head below water just for the hell of it. Breathing in harshly, you fail to keep yourself from stuttering over your words. “I’m sorry.”

Steve bites back a groan of pain as he leans over to take your cheeks in his palms. The brush of his fingertips lets you know that you’ve already started crying. You don’t much care about the facade anymore. “Doll, listen to me. Listen.”

“I never meant to leave you alone.”

“You never did.”

You bark out a wet laugh, sarcastic. “I should have run faster. I should have killed him all those years ago. I should have never brought you into this.”

“You did what you had to do,” he says, fiercely. He forgets his own strength for a second, only slightly diminished from the healing process, and loosens his tight grip against your cheeks. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

“I wanted to hate you,” you admit. Your bottom lip is trembling and your hands clench together over your thighs. “I wanted to hate you so much. If I did, then you getting hurt or killed on this mission wouldn’t hurt so bad. I hated you for what you did. Because it made me realize that I could never hate you at all.”

“Hey,” he tries, hands now lowering to clutch at your own. “Stop apologizing for having a heart. Stop thinking you’re not worthy of even having one.”

Your face crumbles and Steve realizes for the first time in a long time just how much you’ve been holding in. “Why didn’t you use the stones?”

Steve’s heart clenches at the sound of the crack in your voice. He hasn’t heard that crack since Clint fell to his knees without Natasha by his side. He holds onto you tighter and prepares himself for an admission he never thought he would ever have to give. “Because Peggy told me not to.”

Something confusing happens in the middle of your chest. It clenches with anger but understanding. The answer to your question was always this simple but it looks like it’s tearing Steve apart from the inside-out.

She’s as beautiful as the day he went into the ice. All he has to do is whisper her name so sweetly, delicately, and she turns her head like she’s answering the prayer. First her knees buckle, eyes watering and blotching her vision, and she collapses on the soft grass of her backyard. Steve’s holding her the very next second, repeating that he’s real, he’s here.

“Steve,” Peggy gasps, hands shaking as she brings them to his wet cheeks. She grips and pokes and does everything so comically that Steve laughs a wet laugh when she starts smacking him. “What is going on?”

And he tells her. Everything he can remember: the good, the bad, the wretched. He spills everything, and he spills the most delicate information of their time: he’s alive, just frozen; Bucky’s alive, just hurt; the world is saved, just broken. Whether she believes it or not Steve’s not sure, but he’s so goddamn happy to see her again that he chokes every other word.

“And you? You’re happy?”

His eyebrows come together and he looks at Peggy like she’s speaking another language. She’s got the same red lipstick, same curl in her hair even if it’s longer now, and she’s filling out her dresses more. “Pegs, don’t ask me that.”

She detaches herself slowly from his arms, pausing their dance as she speaks. “Why not? You can’t expect me to accept that you stopped by to see me all willy-nilly after saving the universe.” Her lips twitch into a knowing smile and Steve melts. Her voice is sending him into a spiral, a world he never thought he would see again, and he realizes just how much he loves accents on women - especially this woman.

“I just,” he chokes out, and brushes his index finger down her cheek. “I had to see you again.”

“I get that,” Peggy says and pays no mind that the record player has stopped; she still sways gently with Steve. “But you’ve just mentioned a whole other world you’ve been a part of. You’ve got your best guy back, that Wilson fellow sounds like the life of the party, and this Agent Y/N certainly sounds like she’s been by your side through it all.”

Steve stutters in his step and holds her closer. Her stomach presses against his, and he stops abruptly. He looks down between them and runs his hand from her shoulder, down, to lay across her growing belly. “Pegs.”

She gives him the same wide and proud smile she gave him when he returned with the 107th. She lays her hand over his. “I know.” She laughs and tilts her head lovingly. “I’m happy, too.”

Steve bites his lip to keep from sobbing. He was so stupid for coming to this timeline, for ruining Peggy’s chance at happiness, for interrupting the life he already knew she created for herself. He inputted the wrong year, he suddenly realizes, and steps back arms-length from her. “I’m sorry, I was stupid to come here. I just wanted to see you and then I did, and I… I still love you, Pegs.”

“Oh,” Peggy gasps, bottom lip trembling. “Darling, do not mistake yourself, even for a second, into thinking that I do not love you too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing for having a heart.”

He wants to argue, say he’s stupid a million more times, but he finds himself listening to her gentle words. It’s Peggy, Steve thinks. She’s always been right.

“In this world you live in, you have James?” He nods. She continues, “In this world you live in, you just lost two of your most loved friends?” He nods again. He wipes his face from forehead to chin. “In this world you live in, you have met a woman who has the same stubbornness as you; has the same self-sacrificing streak, who has your heart in such shambles that you dare call her one of your best friends?”

Steve thinks of you and how broken your smile was as you waved him goodbye, hand clenching Sam’s as Steve gathered the stones and Mjolnir. He thinks of the times you’d leap onto his back and demand a ride; the times he’s saved your ass in a firefight; how his sleep has definitely improved ever since he started calming you from nightmares - he hasn’t slept so well since before the war. He nods again.

Her eyes go soft. “Steve,” she starts and Steve knows. He doesn’t want to know. “Don’t abandon the world you’ve built for yourself. Surround yourself with the people you love. Do this for me.”

“There’s so much hate and blood waiting for me when I get back, Pegs. I don’t want to-”

“There is a difference between you not wanting to and you having to.” He drops his head and focuses on the floor. Peggy isn’t done grilling him, however, and he looks back up to grant her the respect. “You must not abandon the world you helped create. I’m not saying this to be mean. I’m saying this because I know you don’t want to.”

“Pegs.”

“I see right through you, Steve. We marched together through mud and blood before. We’ve got two years of fighting side by side under our belts. I’ve seen you at your worst, and you I. I know that face anywhere.”

“I missed you, Pegs,” Steve breathes. She cups his face with her hands and draws their foreheads together.

“The stars weren’t written in our favor. But to know that you’re alive, and that you make it, and that you actually get to live,” she bites back a sob. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“It isn’t my world to begin with.”

“No, you’re a man out of time. But so is James. You won’t abandon him now, will you?”

He chuckles low and their noses touch. “Stop making me feel guilty for wanting to find you, Peggy.”

She presses a soft kiss to the side of his mouth and finally breaks away. “And you won’t abandon that sweet girl who has put up with your nonsense for the last five years, you say?”

Steve shakes his head and meets Peggy’s gaze. “I’m just tired.”

“They are too, I bet.” He turns to the door and to Peggy, and she figures it’s almost time for him to leave. “You have been the archer and the brave, Steve. I’m absolutely certain you’ve been more. You will be more.”

Steve says his final goodbyes and stops to remember the fine details of Peggy’s face. The fifties are treating her well. Steve expected nothing less. Bright lights flash around him and he’s back to the world he wanted to leave, to hide from, and he sees you - and your mouth parts in shock.

“And you listened to her?” you ask.

Steve smiles, although it’s hard for him to remember that conversation. “I came back. I didn’t listen to her when she said to surround myself with people who love me, and who I love in return.”

“No, you made damn sure of that.”

“Hey,” Steve chuckles. “Don’t take smacks at me when you’re down.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Sorry, it’s just too easy sometimes.” Laughing about the two years of missed chances and spoiled friendship was not on your bingo card for this week.

“I don’t know how this is going to play out,” you admit. Steve looks so young with a somber expression: his eyebrow creases gently without wrinkling the rest of his forehead, the side of his mouth tilts downward, and his eyelashes kiss the pink of cheeks. “I decided in the moment. So I’m fuck all out of ideas on how to proceed.”

He nods in understanding. “Guess we just have to look over our shoulders three times instead of two now.”

“Simple like that?” You scrub a hand over your face and curse inwardly when you smudge your lipstick down to your chin. You ignore it. “I know we’re Avengers, but.”

“No buts,” Steve says and moves to sit up. You help him by pushing his shoulders and he accepts your help as you struggle to the bathroom. “You helped the guy and his daughter. I’m sure he’s going to be watching our backs from now on.”

You help Steve strip from his dress pants and shoes and finally remove your suit as well. The graze on your arm is covered in brown, dried blood but the wound isn’t deep. It’ll sting like a sunburn, you know that, but it’s better than being shot through. You watch Steve enter the shower and leave the curtain drawn. His bandage is soaked again but thankfully it’s from the water and not more blood. You grab a spare towel and soak it with water and soap, and rub it across your lips and chin.

“Let me do that,” Steve calls. You strip bare and bring the towel with you into the shower. Steve takes it and scrubs over your face, gently but more rough as he gets to your eyes. It’s an innocent moment of ‘ouch, scrub softer!’ and ‘surprised I didn’t take all your lashes off’. He helps clean your wound as well and once you’re both clean, he bandages you up and you him.

The master bedroom is the only room without electricity so you gather some candles. It’s like the two of you won’t admit you’re currently afraid of the dark or what may lie in it. They illuminate the room in a delicate orange and it’s such a peaceful color to briefly see before falling asleep, head tucked into Steve’s chest and his heartbeat thrumming gently with your breath.

It’s a wonder what a night’s sleep can do. Steve’s wounds are sealed and his fever is gone, but there’s a signature left behind. A pink and white patch of skin as tender as a newborn’s, a memory. Steve pours your coffee and his tea while you trace your fingers over it.

Two hours after eating a small breakfast and securing the perimeter, a soft ding startles you from the random book you’re reading. Steve’s phone shines with a message from Sam. It simply reads: ‘Clear’. Grabbing the phone and walking out onto the porch, you find Steve sitting on one of the steps he tripped over just yesterday. He’s sketching the sky and the trees, taking his time on the lines of the branches, the strokes of the leaves, and the frost over them. He looks up, studies his surroundings, and looks back down to add a detail he previously missed. He sniffs, rubs his nose, and finally notices you leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he says, soft. “Any news?”

You hold up his phone and nod. “Sam says we’re clear to fly in.”

Steve looks back to his drawing. You hesitate before speaking, knowing damn well an all clear means get your ass back as soon as possible. “Finish your drawing. I’ll pack whatever we need to.” Steve’s mouth parts but he shuts it just as quickly. Slowly, he nods.

There isn’t much to pack since you brought nothing but the clothes on your backs. Everything at the hotel was collected before the wedding and should have flown back with Scott and the others. It feels awkward stealing bottled water and processed foods to hoard on the quinjet, but it’s a necessity. Steve meets you at the quinjet doors, shows you his drawing, and volunteers to take the wheel.

“You’re not volunteering. You’re ordering.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “No license, no drive.”

“What are you? A cop?”

“Don’t think for one second I won’t actually hand the wheels over and happily crash while screaming ‘I told you so’.”

Steve steers for the duration of your flight. The next few hours are spent just enjoying each other’s company, speaking of all things and simply catching up. It’s amazing how much you two missed from one another’s lives those two years.

The landing base is clear and it’s Sam who’s waiting for you as the Quinjet manually lands itself. He shoots you a gap-toothed smile and extends his arms, pulling the two of you in at the same time for a strong hug. He’s talking a mile a minute about how successful the mission was, how Fury is over the moon that it’s finally over, how the DEA is thinking of congratulating everyone one by one. It’s enough to distract Steve, who’s just happy to see his best friend again, but it isn’t enough for you. The large metal doors sealing the storage facility from the rest of the compound are thrown open. Bucky stumbles through and practically sprints over to the three of you.

“Get back on the jet,” he orders, already pulling you by the arm. You all look at one another like he’s gone mad but that’s impossible. Bucky’s paranoia isn’t something to take lightly; he’s right nine out of ten times.

“Buck, what-?”

“Rhodes couldn’t hold them. They have warrants, Steve.”

Steve hauls Sam onto the jet as well. “Warrants for who?”

“Get down from the jet without a fight and this will all go smoothly.”

There are about twenty uniformed officers surrounding the jet. They spread out in case anyone decides to run but it seems pointless to even try. Secretary Ross points his gun directly at you, proud and tall and looking just the same as you remember him. Last time you saw him was at Tony’s funeral.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you bite, and raise your hands in cooperation. Ross shakes his head and his expression contorts into one of disgust. There are red beams coming from each gun but your friends are clean - the beams are only pointed at you.

“Agent Y/N Y/LN, you’re under arrest for multiple charges of drug smuggling, trafficking of illegal goods, the murder of Ernesto Vega and Daniel Seda, aiding and abetting drug-lord Omar Ramirez, and for conspiracy against the United States of America. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a federal court of law...”

You drone out half way through. Ross finishes up the speech but no one is listening. Sam is already yelling over your Miranda Rights and Bucky’s frozen in place. Steve’s fighting his way through to Ross, pushing through the muscle until he’s face to face with him. But Ross isn’t fazed. There’s nothing left to do but exit the jet.

Immediately there are handcuffs slapped to your wrists. Two men drag you over to the containment car that’s enforced with so much indestructible material it’s almost insulting. You weren’t enhanced - they were doing this for fun.

“You’ve got it all wrong! Y/N! Y/N!”

You don’t fight. Conspiracy… you’re surprised they didn’t just shoot you dead. Steve’s still yelling, begging to be heard, but you try to block him out. It’s not your first time being arrested but it is your first time being charged with something you didn’t do. As funny as that sounds, it’s terrifying.

“Steve,” you say, and Steve breaks through some more hired muscle so he’s within earshot. “It’s okay.”

His face pulls up in pain, “No, you didn’t do this! They’re not listening!”

One of the officers pushes your head down roughly and tries to shove you in the backseat. You’re still looking at Steve. And those eyes, wounded and vulnerable, haunt him even after the door shuts and the car drives away.

There’s a privilege attached to the mantle of Captain America. Perhaps he was too blind to see it during the war or just too proud he was finally being heard and respected, but now he sees it for what it really is. It’s a mantle this country has never truly associated with the person but with the purpose. Steve was manufactured to help protect this country under government orders and when he defied that purpose, he disgraced the mantle. Seems like some people idolize the role a little too much.

But he’s still Captain America. This reality has continued to clear his name from stunts he pulls and laws he breaks. And once Steve is able to walk away without so much as a scratch, he leaves bodies behind.

Sharon. Sam. Bucky. Wanda. And now you. All people who fought his fight and weren’t granted the quick privilege of that perceived pureness and holiness. He was always ready for combat, he was built for it, but he didn’t really want it.

Did he?

Ripping that star off his chest was one thing. Accepting his new shield cemented his continual legacy as the Star-Spangled Man. He deserved to be in that cell with you. But if he learned anything about how the world works, it’s that cruelty doesn’t just win in the movies. All of his enemies started out friends and if he had to bet, he’d bet the reason they’re labeled as such is partially because of him.

So he sits and listens to everyone’s ideas and plans, vetoing and dismissing one right after the other, his mind doing jumping jacks. He’s both there and not, drowning in the fact that he made it home and you didn’t. He doesn’t know how to sleep without the sound of your snoring anymore.

He sits and listens.

The cell isn’t one you would expect for someone who has been charged for betraying her country. It’s modestly furnished: a black cot in the far right corner with a mini table beside it, a desk with some paper, and a door that leads to the private bathroom. All in all, the room’s size is that of a child’s bedroom; there’s no actual pens and pencils for risk of violent behavior and there’s a bulb camera that moves when you move.

You’ve been trapped in worse.

Countless detectives and investigators have visited already. They all ask the same questions: Why did you do it? Did Captain Rogers know? Who are you, really?

You give the same answers: I didn’t do it. Of course, every single person knows. Who do you think I am?

Every time they leave more discouraged than the one before them, refusing to compare notes with one another in case they were in possession of gold. They all ignore you when you try to ask for Steve and his wellbeing. Their faces contort, they whisper to their partners, and they shake their heads in disappointment. One even goes as far as to threaten you, warning you to keep Captain Roger’s name out of your wetback mouth or else, until he’s escorted from the cell. Not that it really matters - the manipulated ideals of these people will always blur their search for the truth. And when the truth fails to satisfy such greedy manipulations, they choose to create their own.

There is one agent who peaks your interest. He offers you gum when he settles in the chair near the door. His name badge reads ‘Kavert’; it glares in the bright lights overhead and he makes no other attempt at small talk once he gets comfortable and opens his little notepad.

That goddamn notepad, you think. Every single person before has prided themselves over it, scribbling little notes about your tone of voice, body movement, and vague answers. You never give much, Natasha had taught you better, so they always end up writing less than two bullet points before giving up.

But Agent Kavert surprises you by opening up to a blank page, spitting his chewed gum in the middle, and then he shuts it closed. He offers you a real smile, one that doesn’t look practiced or forced. It lets you study him without being so guarded or uncomfortable. He seems young, not really a rookie but it’s obvious he’s spent more time behind a desk than out in the field. His dark hair is short, sprinkled grays near his temples, and his attire screams upper level. His build is lean, his gun is in the holster on his right hip, and a part of you knows he’d put up a hell of a fight if you tried to escape.

“I was gonna comment on what lovely weather we’re having, but I don’t think you get out much.”

You’re startled into a real laugh. Satisfaction washes over his face.

“I think you’re wasting your time, Agent Kavert.”

He grins and moves to proudly pull at his jacket and present his badge. He sets the notebook to the side and leans forward to cup his hands together on his knees.

You squint at him. There’s nothing interesting about you right now: back against the wall as you sit criss-crossed on the cot, sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, hair brushed but a little greasy. Your last shower was two days ago and you figure they’ll let you have one tonight.

“Yeah, you’re right. There’s no point in hoping you’ll tell me anything you haven’t shared yet.”

“Nope.”

He hums low in his throat and tilts his head to the left. Now, he squints at you. “I just don’t get it. How did you do it? Not show up on our radar, I mean?”

It doesn’t seem like he’s calling you guilty or innocent. Already he’s one-hundred percent different from the other agents. “I wasn’t exactly hiding.”

He sits up to lean back in the chair, “Different last name, government and Avenger protection, covering your tracks so carefully even the DEA missed you.”

“You’ve done your homework.”

“Yes, but,” he starts. He acts like he’s having a normal conversation on his front porch. “It still doesn’t make sense. How could Nick Fury miss this? Tony Stark? After the whole Obadiah situation, I expected him to-”

“It’s simple, really. Do you want to know or do you want to keep making assumptions?”

He’s watched the other agents leave by this point. Some couldn’t even make you talk. So he shuts up and waves his hand for you to continue.

“Cool,” you breathe out. “First of all, I’m literally only telling you this because I’ve already been refused a lawyer or some crap like that and I highly doubt this is going to actual court. The publicity would be horrible.”

He bites his lip but you catch the little smile forming. You continue, “And I have nothing to hide. I’m sure my Captain, my teammates, and Fury himself have given their sides. Am I right?”

Agent Kavert adjusts himself in the seat and nods in response. He doesn’t dare interrupt you now.

“Good, then I’ll keep it sweet. They knew who I was. I was recruited to be an inside source, a double agent, and this wedding was the perfect chance to corner those men,” you declare, turning your hands palm up and shrugging your shoulders. “There, happy?”

“Double agent.” Agent Kavert chews over the words, rolling them around on his tongue a few more times. He’s squinting harder and you can see his brain working. The next sound to leave his lips is a heavy sigh and a feeling of immense irritation washes over you. It wasn’t enough. “Are we going to be truthful yet, Agent?”

Chuckling lightly, you rest the back of your skull on the wall. It was wrong to assume he’d be any different from the others. “Of course you don’t believe me. You want more, they all do. I don’t suppose I have anything better to do.”

He claps his hands on his thighs and leans forward again, loud and restless. “Then let’s get started, really: Did you or did you not let Omar Ramirez, Mexican drug-lord involved with Ernesto Vega, your father... imagine that, run away from a crime scene, evade arrest, and possibly leave the country?”

“You expect me to follow all those questions?”

“It’s not the time to be funny.”

“You were enjoying it just a second ago,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows, still waiting for an answer. “Then let me put it simply: no, I did not.”

“Did you or did you not assassinate Ernesto Vega?”

“I would have remembered such a brilliant kill if it came from my gun.”

“So that’s a no… Daniel Seda?”

“His gun was pointed at my Captain. Yes.”

“Against orders, then?”

Confusion is written all over your face and you make sure the camera knows it too. There are only so many times you can repeat yourself. “Don’t you have Steve’s report? Scott’s?”

“We have to hear the story from you, Agent.”

“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? You don’t believe me.”

He shrugs and quickly scans you up and down. Even if he doesn’t have the tangible notepad in his hands, he’s getting away with making mental notes. “The story just isn’t piecing together the way it should be. Why would Daniel Seda murder his greatest ally and friend?”

“Our mics have already transcribed that answer for you, sir. I’m sure of it. And I’ve got sources outside of the DEA and Avengers-”

“Like Maribel Rodrigo? Another smuggler who has operated inside the cartel, HYDRA, Madripoor…”

You cut him off, angry. “Not the full story.”

Tone of voice: defensive.

“Then that leads me to my next question.”

“Oh, fun.”

Tone of voice: sarcastic.

He speaks with a tinge of astonishment hidden in every syllable. “Why didn’t you do it? Kill Ernesto, I mean.”

“I was disarmed at the time. The Captain and I both were,” you answer, growing more impatient by the second.

He uses his hands to speak now, finger pointing along an invisible timeline detailing the order of events. “So you admit you were going to kill him if you had your weapon.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Body movement: rigid.

“Or maybe you weren’t. Maybe my boss is right, maybe the FBI is right in thinking that you are a double agent leaning more towards your roots than our boys in blue.” He says this like its scripture; like it’s some holy conspiracy he’s just found evidence for. He wants you to plant words in your mouth and in this discussion so he can pluck the evidence from the ground and water it with fire.

You scoff hard, “I hardly ever wear blue when doing your job for you.”

“Was letting Omar Ramirez escape our job or just yours?”

Telling him the truth would mean losing all credibility, all titles, all trust in your work. You know what you’ve done and you don’t regret it. Ramirez was never the biggest fish and if you spun this right, then he was simply a fish who got his meal and promptly swam away. “You assume I let him go. What evidence tells you that?”

He ignores the question and instead asks another of his. “Why were your relations kept hidden from SHIELD and the FBI?”

“That’s a question for you know who.”

He shakes his head in disappointment. “You’re in a lot of trouble.”

“I bet I am. But this is not some precinct where you can get my team to turn on me so easily. And this is not a situation in which they’re lying for me. I trust that whatever the Captain has said is the answer to all your questions.”

“We’re gonna unravel this case. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

You’re suddenly overcome with a wave of sleepiness. These past two weeks have been exhausting even if you haven’t moved more than five feet from wall to wall. Having to repeat yourself to people who have already written the story for themselves is tiring. “I don’t know why you guys can’t just believe the words of myself and everyone vouching for me. We got you all the evidence. We have given you more names and connections that you’ll ever know what to do with. You don’t need to unravel anything; it’s all there! But because we weren’t able to arrest the one person you wanted, that being Ernesto, you go after me. You have White but I guess he’s not talking. And you’ll believe what you want to believe.”

“I trust my gut.”

“As simple as that, huh?” You sigh deeply and cross your arms over your chest. “You know, there’s a saying the late Agent Carter used to tell all SHIELD agents when they first started out and when they came back from missions. When she retired, it was Fury who then eased our minds.”

Agent Kavert has a harsh line creasing through the middle of his forehead and he looks deeply interested.

“There are three sides to every story,” you recite. “Your side, my side, and the truth.” A gentle shrug of the shoulders feels like all you’re allowed to give him. “I’m not lying to you but I’m not telling you the full truth either. Just my side.”

Agent Kavert shuts his eyes and bounces his left leg. He looks conflicted and unable to formulate a response at all. He’s shaking like he’s at war with himself or with the suits on the other side of the door, but no one has come knocking yet. “Let’s say I believe you. Just for a second.”

You nod.

“Daniel Seda murders Vega at his own daughter’s wedding. We managed to catch Marcus White and because of fault entirely, Omar Ramirez gets away. Because from what I heard, Ramirez was working with you.” He paints the picture rather mundane, but you shoot him a smile that tells him he’s on the right track. “And you and all the other Avengers were blindsided by Ramirez. You gathered all the evidence you were told to gather, worked together and played your cards right, infiltrated one of the most secure estates in the country, and fucked up so badly that you managed to let two of your biggest giants die?”

“I really think you got it spot on.”

He laughs dryly, “But it still doesn’t make sense. Once Vega was gone and Seda survived, where would you have fallen in this tree?”

He wants to retract his question the moment he sees your face fall with such a sincerity he wasn’t ready for. “That’s just it, Agent Kavert. I would have fallen.”

“And the other two? How would business work? Would Daniel Seda have been the head of it now?”

“Your answers are in the evidence we gathered. I know you guys aren’t touching it because you think I’m compromised.”

He stands from the chair and dusts off his jacket. “Your side, my side, and the truth,” he repeats. He goes to open the door but you speak quickly before he can leave.

“They think I infiltrated SHIELD, the Avengers, and am in bed with HYDRA because they’ve been helping Ernesto’s vision all along.” Agent Kavert stops and turns back to you. “I am a double agent whose identity was kept secret to aid this country and not raise suspicions from your part. I have seen a lot of things, have done things I’m not proud of, but I’ve done it all for a reason.”

Agent Kavert looks almost ashamed. Tone of voice: sincere.

“Me and my Captain saved lives, our own as well, and we stopped three of the most notorious drug-lords who have been at large since the eighties. We got your giants for you. And the truth is, I have discovered: through all my pain and experience... that it’s excellent to have a giant’s strength; but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant.”

Agent Kavert doesn’t know if you’re talking about Ernesto, the U.S Government, yourself, or him. His eyebrows pinch together and he slowly moves to leave the room.

It’s another week before you’re visited by someone who isn’t bringing you food or extra toilet paper. You’re picking at your cuticles when the vents above your cell begin rattling with the obvious weight of a human being. You sit dumbly on the bed, straining your ears and trying hard not to laugh as each rattle is returned with a muffled curse. The vent on the ceiling right outside your cell drops to the concrete floor.

Ernesto’s men wouldn’t go through all that trouble to kill you James Bond style. They would have just bribed a guard. So it’s a treat when the door swings open quickly and in comes a staggering Clint, keys in one hand and his phone in the other. The screen is illuminated, showcasing what looks to be blueprints. He’s got a bandaid over his left eyebrow and dust all over his clothes.

Your upper lip twitches into a silly smile. “You’re ridiculous if you thought you wouldn’t be heard in those damn vents.”

Clint makes a noise that sounds like he’s saying ‘maaaf’ and he plops down beside you on the cot. It’s absolutely hilarious he traveled in the vents and that the team approved this when in reality, they could have just sent Scott. “Just had to get past the first line of security. Plus, the blueprints said they were wider... I figure we’ve got a good three minutes before they check the cameras.”

It’s not the first time you sit in a cell with a time crunch.

The Raft is nothing special. They have you all separated by rank, meaning you were in the same vicinity as Clint, Sam, and Scott. Wanda was moved to a more secure location and you haven’t seen her since they brought you in.

There isn’t much to do in a place like this. You tried counting how many strands of hair you had but gave up once you counted two hundred; you tried seeing if the others could hear you when you yelled out to them but the cells were soundproof; you even tried filing your nails against the uneven paint on the wall. It’s like they made life in these cells purposefully horrible - like you didn’t save the world a couple times over, c’mon.

The camera fidgets over your head where you’re laying down and after a few seconds, it stops. The red light slowly fades and turns a bright yellow. You move to stand on the bed and reach for it, but a voice startles you from doing so.

“Don’t mess with my magic!”

You topple over the single pillow you were given and fall flat on the bed, scrambling to shield yourself from whoever intruded. “Jesus!”

“Oh, I met him. Strange lad, didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

There’s a moment where you think you must be dreaming. His hair is longer and hits his shoulders and he’s added some blue and yellow to his usual attire. But other than that, he’s alive. Truly, brilliantly, really alive.

“Loki, what the fuck?”

“Right!” Loki claps his hands and extends them outwards, smiling. “Ta-da!”

A few beats pass. You blink a few times just in case you’re hallucinating. Barely a week in containment…

“I’m sorry… I’m still trying to process the fact that you’re still alive!”

He scoffs low and goes to sit at the edge of the bed. “A God never truly dies, darling.”

“Well in Greek mythology-”

“Greek mythology and I have this unsettled beef that’s been going on for about five hundred years. Do not mention Greek mythology to me.”

“Excuse me, right, I should have known that was a sensitive topic.”

Loki swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and expels a laugh. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your restraint is gone and you lunge forward to envelope him in the tightest hug you’ve ever given anyone. He returns it, sighing into your shoulder and holding you close. You pull away just to stare at him, watching his features as they move ever so slightly. It’s really him.

“I-” Loki tries but stutters. He’s studying you too and he almost looks sad. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Does Thor know?” Loki shakes his head at your question and winces when you smack his shoulder. “Loki, Thor has been grieving you for months!”

“I’m planning on it!” You don’t believe him. He goes to rub his shoulder. “Gods, I forgot you had excellent aim.”

You look back at the camera and find that the yellow light is still glowing, dim. Loki’s magic is blocking footage out or putting footage in, you really don’t know. But it’s allowing you a few moments with the man you thought you’d never see again. “Spontaneous reincarnation aside, what are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?”

“I’m on this planet for five-FIVE minutes, and the television has all these reports about you and everyone fighting each other?”

“Mm, right, right.”

Loki stares at you, amused. “... Care to explain?”

Your face contorts into a hundred different expressions until you finally settle on one of gentle guilt. “The person we were after was a friend of a friend. I made a judgement call and let him go.”

“You went against orders?”

“I went against the law.”

“Even better.”

With an eyebrow cocked, you give him a judging look. “Loki.”

His eyes crinkle from the intensity of his smile and you’ve missed him, you missed him so much. “That’s what I love about you. Barely starting out as an Avenger and you’re already realizing you can do more good in your own way.”

You groan quietly and rest your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you closer. “I mainly did it for Steve. Wasn’t like it was a big ‘fuck you’ to one-hundred and seventeen nations for the hell of it.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No.”

“Spoken like a true anti-hero.”

“You comparing me to yourself?”

Loki chuckles and runs his fingers through the strands of hair closest to your cheek. “Darling, I’m a God. No one comes close.” He sighs, serious again. “All I’m saying is that it’s refreshing to see the young break the rules.”

“I missed you,” you softly say. You can feel the nudge of his cheek turning upward against your head.

“Always nice to hear.”

Rolling your eyes, you move to meet his gaze. “So, no reason why you came to visit me specifically?”

Loki takes one cautious look at the camera, to outside your cell, and back to you. “I too do things for your lovely Captain.” His smile grows wider.

“What?”

He winks and tilts his head over to the giant metal doors that are starting to pry open. “See you in a minute.”

The alarms begin blazing; there is fog filling the room, and Steve emerges from that fog with a winning smirk.

You look over at Clint, half selfishly wishing he was Loki on another one of his midnight visits, and quickly do away with the thought. “So how’s life without me?”

“Oh, it’s great! The flowers are in bloom, the kitchen isn’t always a mess, and my bow and arrow aren’t misplaced because you wanted to have some fun with it,” he jokes, stretching far enough that his feet dig into your thigh like he’s trying to make more room for himself.

“Not like it’s your only bow and arrow.”

He chuckles and sits up. He does a once over of the room and adjusts the frequency on his hearing aid. “They read you your rights at least?”

You wait to respond until he finishes fixing it. You speak and sign the words slowly, “I don’t think any lawyer in America will want to take this case anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s a career killer.”

Trying to refrain from smiling around Clint was nearly impossible. You look to the door quickly, “Two minutes?”

He shoots up straighter as he watches your hands, “Right! So we’re currently tracking down your sister-”

“My sister?”

“Steve thinks she’s our only hope at clearing your name.”

“Why is that? I told her to get as far away as possible.”

Clint sighs and scratches the skin just above the bandaid. “She stayed in Mexico all those years you were gone. By all accounts, Ernesto adored her. Because of that, her influence might clear your name.”

“But she stayed. All the more reason to believe she was involved as well,” you say, shaking your head.

“She’s barely out of her teens. Everything that happened, happened when she was a minor. She has a first hand account of the abuse Ernesto caused you. And Steve thinks that the Julian fellow might even come clean and admit to the arranged marriage. Shows a pattern of abuse by Ernesto to his own children. Could spin it to make it seem like you had no other choice but to follow his orders.”

You follow his hands slowly, some signs difficult to read but you latch onto the gist of his argument. You groan and lean your head back on the wall with a small thump. “They go against Ernesto and they have targets on their backs. Even my other siblings who are still involved with all of this won’t let it go.”

“Y/N… Ernesto’s dead. You know that.”

“His influence isn’t.”

There’s minimal commotion a few doors down. Clint realizes it’s time to leave. “It might never be. But we don’t get to live in the future.” He stands with another small groan and stretches as he prepares to lift himself back into the vent. “We’re living now, and it’s all any of us can do.”

“Clint?” You also stand and have to wave in his peripheral to get his attention. He turns and knows what you’re about to say even without the hand gestures. “They won’t answer me when I ask.”

His lips pull into a perceptive smile, “He’s okay. Doing what he does best - blaming himself.”

“Oh, okay, good.”

He’s had enough practice reading your lips to notice the sarcasm that drips from them. He hurries to lift himself up. “We’ve got about a million tricks up our sleeve. If Jackeline’s word or the evidence isn’t enough, we’ve always got Fury and his blackmail.”

“Yeah, half the guys who interviewed me look like they cheat on their wives, so.”

He genuinely laughs and jumps high, muttering more to himself than to you. “Up we go…”

The team locates Jackeline just a few days after your run-in with Clint. The building saw a triple rise in security but even then it didn’t prevent undercover agents passing all the checkpoints and sliding notes with your meals. They’d leave the tray, tip their hats, and smile like they knew the cameras wouldn’t suspect a thing.

The first note is from Bucky, with the simple message of ‘I watched a few episodes of The Crown without you… I’m sorry.’

The second comes on the same day at dinner time, this one from Wanda. ‘I think Peter is trying to flirt with your sister.’

The third isn’t slipped through with any meal, but rather through the tiny opening beneath the door. ‘Surprised we did this the legal way this time! See you soon! - Rhodey’

The final one is actually hand delivered when several guards come in to tell you you’re free to go. They’re mumbling amongst themselves, cursing the system and the privileges Avengers always get, when the smallest of the five turns to you and hands you the note. ‘I owe you one. You owe me one. Who’s counting anymore? - Joaquin’

Jackeline had been able to track down Maribel and the two of them, with such accuracy in their stories and their timelines, constructed your defense perfectly. They showed them phone records, all of the recordings from that week, had proof that you never signed a thing, and made several special deals. Jackeline promised to reveal where bodies were buried, where business was dealt with, who else was involved with Ernesto and Seda. Maribel managed to get a message to them from Ramirez, which basically cleared you from the crime they were trying to stick. Ramirez was a damn good liar, you’ll give him that, and it made you the tiniest bit sad that you’d probably never see him again.

The tipping point was when Steve turned himself in. There was no evidence that you did anything, never signed anything, never conspired behind your teammates backs. Fury made sure not to keep a paper or electronic trail. But there was evidence that implicated Steve - the contract. No matter how badly the FBI and CIA tried to make it go away, to absolve Steve from it, he didn’t back down. It was like the story they originally wanted toppled in on itself and it was actually Steve who forced you into all of this - playing your connections and forcing your hand. The contract hadn’t been voided, still hasn’t, and they really couldn’t risk another SHIELD fiasco. So it was destroyed to protect the Stars and Stripes, and in return they promised to let you go if you didn’t tell a soul. The image you’d come to despise, that tacky red, white and blue, is starting to grow on you.

‘Let me think about that and get back to you,’ you had joked. You think they let you go sooner because they feared the truth in your joke.

But there wasn’t anything to think about, ever, still isn’t. Steve pulled another sacrifice play and you wanted to get out as soon as possible to kick his ass.

You leave the prison with the same clothes you had on when you entered. They smell washed and you’re thankful they allowed you to shower before you left. You ignore the looks guards and prisoners aim at you, each trying to somehow get their hits in without actually pulling their punches. This would be a media disaster either way, didn’t matter the outcome of a supposed trial, and PR was most likely struggling to prepare their defense.

You resist the embarrassing urge to run into his arms. He’s standing right outside the gates, leaning back on the passenger side of his rusty old blue pickup, positively glowing underneath the blazing sun. You’re blinded by it, skin thanking the dangerous rays for its first touch in weeks, but it only takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. He still hasn’t shaved and his hair is getting longer, and instead of his usual tucked-in dress shirt, he’s wearing a brown leather jacket over a faded graphic tee that reads AC/DC. It was Tony’s.

You’ve only got the broken burner phone and a hair tie in your possession; it’s what was on you when you were arrested. You drop the burner in a nearby trashcan and head on over to the truck. Steve’s wide smile buckles your knees and it damn near breaks your heart. Even when the two of you weren’t on speaking terms, you still saw each other at least twice a week. Going two weeks without seeing him feels like a lifetime.

Once you're a few feet away, you stop in front of him. There are no immediate words you know to say, so you simply shrug your shoulders and give him a look that asks ‘What now?’

“Home.”

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress

#captainsimagines #captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel masterlist #marvel fanfiction #mob fanfic #reader insert #trigger warnings listed #you x steve rogers

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musclesandhammering · 3 years

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Non-Controversial Loki Headcanons for These Trying Times

1.) Loki has had dozens of Midgard-based aliases over the years, for no other reason than the fact that he was bored and it was funny. DB Cooper was one of them. Hank Williams was another. He may or may not have even pretended to be a vampire at some point.

2.) Loki can definitely sing. Not just in a funny ironic way, but like.. he actually enjoys singing. It shouldn’t even come as a surprise considering he’s such a fine arts nerd, but yeah. He plays the guitar too. Surprisingly folksy.

3.) Loki’s rooms in Asgard literally look like a witch’s lair. I mean straight up spooky. All dark earth tones, spellbooks strewn everywhere, runes drawn on the walls to keep certain big brothers from messing with things they have no business messing with, vials of poisonous stuff sitting on every available surface, shelves full of strange little trinkets and talismans, a dramatic ass medieval-looking bed, a whole ass cauldron… and then in the corner on a stand there’s his Hank Williams Guitar aasdfghhjkl-

4.) When people call Loki a witch, they’re not joking. He’s. Like. An actual stereotypical, like.. witch. He doesn’t just do finger wavy magic- he mixes potions, he does rune work, he recites spells, he has a cauldron.

5.) He also used to dress super witchy. Used to. Past tense. I’m talking black nail polish, lots of necklaces, rings, eyes makeup (ok maybe I wouldn’t go that far, but Loki in eyeliner would be pretty hot, right?), clothes that were like.. 15% scarier yet more fashionable than the ones he wears in canon. The only reason he toned it down was because someone whose opinion he cared about (it was Thor) made a joking comment about his appearance looking “wicked” or “evil” and it made him feel self conscious, so he changed how he dressed. :(

6.) He was rocking the whole short hair look years before Thor in Ragnarok. In fact, by pre-canon Loki’s standards, his hair in Thor 1 was even a bit too long. He did this because a.) he hates how his natural curls soften him and will do anything to get rid of them and b.) in Asgard short hair wasn’t really worn by noblemen because it symbolised servitude, so this was Loki’s subtle way of being defiant and deviating from the norm.

7.) As Frigga said in Endgame, Loki is very good at sneaking. Even when he’s not trying to. There have been many-an-accident in the Palace of Asgard because he unintentionally almost gave Thor a heart attack.

8.) Loki and Thor weren’t always at each other’s throats. They actually got along pretty well up until Odin started planning for the coronation. Loki was still jealous of the way Thor was treated compared to the way he was treated, but he knew that wasn’t Thor’s fault- not really. And Thor was still arrogant and entitled, but that was mostly directed at other people and not his own family, so while Loki knew about Thor’s character flaws, it didn’t really effect him personally. When the planning started, though, Thor gradually became even more superior and insufferable than normal, and Loki became even more bitter and unsettled, and their relationship just kind of went downhill from there.

9.) Loki absolutely joined the Mile High Club with that flight attendant from the first episode of the show. Her name was Florence and she was adorable, Loki thought so too.

10.) Loki’s the only person on Asgard who can beat Volstagg at an eating competition. He has a giant’s metabolism, after all. And, contrary to his elegant and refined tastes in most other areas, he’s actually a straight-up carnivore. I mean he eats other foods too, obviously, but meats are by far his favourites. Boar, fish, poultry, steak. Just meats. He doesn’t know it, but this is because frost giants are mostly carnivorous.

11.) His relationship with the Warriors 4 was always split down the middle. He and Sif always hated each other. Hogun never trusted him and Loki never had any interest in spending time with Hogun. Fandral and Volstagg, on the other hand, were always much nicer and Loki always sort of considered them his friends as well as Thor’s. This is why they were more reluctant to believe that he’d let the frost giants in in Thor 1.

12.) I refuse to believe Loki doesn’t have at least one tattoo somewhere. Probably more. Probably of a snake. The only parts of his body we didn’t see naked in Episode 1 were his thighs, lower back, knee area, pelvic region, and the back of his neck. So it’s gotta be in one of those places. (Might I suggest: snake thigh tattoo, tiny nape tat, goth tramp stamp lol, rune tat behind his ear, Norse mythos leg tat, badass above-dick tattoo).

13.) Loki’s prickly and insecure and has layers like an onion, but once you get to the point of actually being friends with him, he’s a total sweetheart. I mean a literal smol dork. A bit hyperactive and excitable, but still very very soft. It’s because he’s had so few actual friends in his life.

14.) Sometimes Loki only goes a few days before his gender changes, sometimes he stays one gender for years at a time. And he tends to shapeshift his body to match. That being said, one of his biggest pet peeves is how his other-gendered clothes get all dusty and musty when they have to stay in the closet for long stretches of time. So he’s taken to wearing luxurious gowns around the house when he’s in his male form. You know, just to air them out.

15.) Loki hates sleeping with people. Sex is fine, but he’s just so solitary and paranoid that he’s never been comfortable sleeping in a bed with another person. This may or may not have gotten him in trouble a few times when his partners woke up and found him gone lol.

16.) Laufey is actually incredibly similar to Loki, the way Odin is very similar to Thor. He prefers smaller blades (ice daggers), he’s very analytical and calculating, he’s very calm and non-confrontational even when he’s in a stressful situation, and tbh he seems like a better king than Odin- much like Loki probably would’ve been a better kind than Thor. (Whoopsie this one’s a bit controversial)

17.) Loki adores animals! …But he’s also a bit obsessive about keeping his environment clean. Not organised, per se, just clean. And animals tend to be hairy and slobbery and feathery and slimy and poopy and dirty, so he’s never been able to have a pet. He just takes a lot of nature walks to compensate :)

18.) All jotuns are naturally intersex, including Loki. This is a bit unusual for Asgardians, but because Loki is genderfluid and a natural-born shapeshifter- and has always had a tendency to change his body parts around as his gender changes (male, female, both, neither)- he’s never had a reason to find it very odd. In hindsight, that was one of the many eccentricities that should have made him realise something was a little fishy with his “asgardian” genetics.

19.) The snake + stabbing story from Ragnarok was nowhere near as nefarious as Thor made it seem. What actually happened was: Someone accidentally mixed a real knife in with the blunted practice knives. Thor and Loki didn’t know this, of course, and when they were playing a battle game, Loki ended up with the real knife. When Loki “won” and went to “vanquish his enemy” he ended up actually stabbing Thor for real. They were both hysterical and it took longer to calm Loki down than his brother. It ended up just being a flesh wound, though, so everything turned out fine.

20.) A lot of people think Loki discovered his “secret passageways between worlds” from TDW through some sort of inter-realm questing or magical study or something, but in reality, he discovered them when he was like 16 and desperately trying to find a way to sneak out of Asgard without Heimdall telling his parents.

Tagging @natures-marvel & @little-s-creampuff for expressing interest. Thx for listening to my mad ravings lmao <3

#I have so many more of these it’s unreal #my musings #loki headcanons #loki laufeyson #frosty bby #long post #loki series #Thor ragnarok #thor the dark world #thor 2011 #Thor #language tw

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hotdogct · 3 years

Text

as dreamers do ||| n.jm

pairing: na jaemin x reader genre: fluff words: 2.2k a/n: hello!!! this is my first piece of writing in a very long time, so apologies if its all over the place/makes no sense!!! obviously this is all a work of fiction, disclaimer, blablabla, idk what i’m doing i just wanted to write drabbles about nct lmao, so with that being said!!!! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Do you trust me?”

You roll your eyes in the direction of your coworker, Jaemin, who was sitting across from you in the fluorescent lit break room located just behind Splash Mountain’s gift shop and exit. The two of you were part of the massive workforce of college aged youth that Disney recruited every year to staff their theme parks and resorts. While you weren’t initially thrilled with your role as a custodian, you learned to appreciate its quirks - and that included the unique cast of characters otherwise known as your coworkers. From the full-timers that did their best to ignore your presence, knowing another semester would just bring a fresh wave of new faces, to your fellow program cohorts - Jaemin being one of them.

Assuming he was just quoting Aladdin at you, you offer no response to Jaemin’s initial query and continue scrolling through your phone, shoveling the few remaining cheese crackers from the nearby vending machine down your throat, intending on savoring the remaining minutes of your last break for the evening.

Your thoughts wandered back to your fellow cast members. There was Daehwi, sheltered and away from home for the first time, affectionately nicknamed ‘baby’ by everyone he befriended. Wendy, with her melodic voice and cheerful disposition, eager to break into song at a moments notice. Lucas, who might’ve come to Florida to party first, but worked equally hard. Hani, who arrived a few weeks after you, always the first to come help when you radio that your restroom has overflowed, again. Even Jinho, who had initially fooled you with his youthful looks before revealing this was his third time through the program, had somehow wormed his way into your heart. But nobody had been as captivating as Jaemin. When you first met him in passing in the cramped break room, you were convinced casting had made a mistake, that he was lost on his way to costuming for entertainment. He certainly looked like a prince - perfectly straight teeth, boyishly handsome good looks. A few days later he was assigned to clean the same bathrooms as you - “bathroom buddies” as everyone affectionately would call the practice. There, in the shared stockrooms, you learned who Jaemin was beyond his beautiful face - how his friends back home called him Nana, that he was studying photography in college, that he was an only child, a helluva flirt. Even your music tastes were similar, a fact you discovered on one of the many cramped, late night bus rides back to program housing where the two of you stood packed shoulder to shoulder, like sardines in a can. Jaemin interacted with guests both young and young at heart with an effortless charm and grace. Your managers loved him immediately, and before you knew it, you found yourself incredibly enamored with him too.

It wasn’t until his hand suddenly broke through your field of vision, blocking sight of your phone, that you realized Jaemin had stood up and was now standing directly in front of you. His head covered the harshest of the overhead lights, casting a soft halo glow around his black, messy hair and broad shoulders. He smiles down at you, innocently, and you feel your heartbeat accelerate when your eyes meet his own.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, again. This time, without thought, you place your hand firmly in his.

******

Jaemin leads you out of the blinding light of the break room silently, into the dark of the early winter evening. Eyes still adjusting, you follow behind him, thankful that your corner of the park was mostly deserted - Splash Mountain still closed for the season, only a few stragglers were coming and going to use the restroom in the area. You vaguely remember that Jaemin had been assigned a nearby zone to clean that evening - which was it again…?

He leads you up a flight up stairs, then, and that’s when it hits you. Train Zone. The Frontierland Railroad Station. It was an easy zone to clean, as the railroad shut down early each night before the fireworks display. Gathering the trash in an empty zone like this was a godsend, especially when compared to the other ride queues you had to clean, oftentimes fighting constant guest traffic like a fish swimming upstream.

Lost in your thoughts, you follow behind Jaemin as he completes his task diligently, making sure each trash can within the train station is empty and re-bagged for the next morning. It had been a few days since the two of you had worked in neighboring areas, and you often found yourself tongue tied when around him. The background music loop of Frontierland was noticeably absent, the speakers within the station shut off for the night. This led to Jaemin singing nonsense songs while tying up trash bags and wiping down surfaces, dancing lightly on his feet.

Turkey leg-g-g

At the train

D-d-d-driving me insane~

All you could do was laugh at his antics, and before you knew it, the nearby banana boat parked at the exit ramp was full of trash bags. Satisfied with the results of your hard work, you were about to begin the walk to backstage, where the dumpsters were located, when Jaemin turned about face, walking instead towards the train station.

“What are you doing?!” you hiss, not wanting to shout but needing to stress your confusion at his actions. Jaemin stops at the gate, unlatches it, before turning around, beckoning you over with a smile.

“I asked you if you trusted me, didn’t I?” his voice low in your ear upon your arrival at his side, banana boat now parked safely out of any guest traffic. Jaemin unlocks the gate for you, both of you falling silent on your walk back up into the depths of the train station - no more cute, silly songs spilling from his lips.

“Are you sure we aren’t going to get caught?” your voice carries louder than intended across the empty room as you go through the turnstile, and you wince.

Jaemin’s boisterous laugh took you by surprise, followed a moment later by his hand ruffling the top of your head, messing up your hair. As if to say, foolish.

“Getting the trash from up here is technically our responsibility. So what if it took us a little long?”

He was right - the best part of your job was the agency it provided. Sure, you were cleaning up garbage and bathrooms and vomit, but you could walk around freely. Explore hidden corners and crevices of the park. You knew all too well the allures of the shared hallway between the Frontierland restrooms, the stock closet next to the Veranda breezeway, the dumpster behind the Haunted Mansion - places the rest of your desperately horny coworkers had used to hook up in weeks prior. As you follow Jaemin around a corner towards the front of the station, through an open passageway, you wonder if that’s what he has in mind. That is, until you see the view in front of you.

Jaemin had led you to a small balcony that overlooked the whole expanse of Frontierland. From above you could spot guests walking about the park to and fro, the Rivers of America flowing gently behind them in the distance. Bits and pieces of Cinderella’s Castle were visible through the tree line, shining bright in multicolor as the nightly projection show proceeded to play.

“Jaem, it’s….”

“Nice, isn’t it?” He finishes your thought for you, his hand brushing over the staged decorations of fake barrels and crates against the wall of the balcony that seemed perfect to sit upon. Moments later, Jaemin plops down with a satisfied smile on his face and pats the space beside him, silently asking you to join him.

“Nice is an understatement” you offer in reply. A small laugh leaves his lips, a breeze rolls through. For just a moment, it is quiet and still.

“I’ve been wanting to show you this place for a while, but the stars just never aligned right until tonight.”

“You mean, the computer system that automates scheduling and staffing didn’t randomly place us in neighboring areas of the park until to-” Jaemin’s stiff elbow into your side lets you know to drop the wit. That you could do, but a question lingered in your mind, still, and you did have to voice your sole concern.

“How do you not get caught up here?”

Jaemin turns around, points to the solitary light on the balcony, and it’s then that you notice the bulb is off. You might feel exposed looking down upon everyone, but quickly realize that nobody is looking up at the closed train station - let alone looking for two cast members in white uniforms in the dark, goofing off on a weeknight.

Fooling around…

You were thankful for the cover of darkness in that moment, as you felt your cheeks turn crimson at the thought. Being alone, with Jaemin, this close, in the dark...This all seemed very sudden, despite everyone knowing about your big crush on Nana - he had to know too?

“So,” Jaemin’s voice cuts through your ever-racing thoughts, and your chest goes cold. “A little birdie told me there’s something you really, really like…”

If jumping off the balcony was a safe option, in that moment, you would’ve taken it. A confirmation of your worst fears - that Jaemin was aware of your ridiculous, schoolgirl like crush on him. You are speechless, sunken, pulse racing, and terrified.

Without the usual cue of area music, caught up in the last hour, you had missed your usual clues. A loud boom caused you to jump in your seat, out of your brain, head immediately turning towards Jaemin - only to make eye contact with him, bright lights reflecting off the surface, who smiles and motions for you to turn around. Of course.

If you were known for one thing amongst your cohorts, it was that you loved fireworks. Even on the most hectic of nights you found a way to make sure you were outside during the nightly display, never taking for granted that you were being paid to watch the sky light up in time to music. You had your favorite spots to watch from, but had never once considered the train station. From the corner of Frontierland, it felt like the fireworks were almost on top of you - cascading down upon Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, the expanse of empty night sky providing the perfect canvas. As the speakers above you were silent, there was no accompanying soundtrack, but it didn’t matter - you knew the whole show by heart. You were unaware of how long your mouth had been hanging open in blissful, childlike wonder, only noticing when Jaemin gently pressed his finger up against your chin, closing the space between your upper and lower lip through simple momentum. Moments later, his hand brushed over yours, testing the waters, and finding no complaint, interlocked his fingers with yours, and gravity pulls your head to his shoulder. A soft, steady hum leaves his lips, as you settle into this newfound bliss.

The rest of the fireworks show plays out in front of the two of you - two white ghosts in a dark shadow, illuminated by glowing streaks and bursts of color from the night sky. You’re working at the most magical place on earth, sure, but this felt like the most magical moment of your life.

Before you know it, the sky calms again, signaling the end of the show. You remain frozen for a moment, not wanting to leave. When you finally stand back up, awkwardly untangling yourself from Jaemin’s frame in a rushed manner, you can almost feel yourself floating back down to the ground, back to reality. Jaemin, your co-worker, Jaemin the flirt. He brought you up here just to watch the fireworks after all. Had you been a bit more outgoing, a bit less awkward, maybe...

Taking a few steps towards the entryway, a sudden hand on your wrist pulls you against the wall - thankfully, out of sight of any guests, but now engulfing your entire body in shadow. And it’s here in the darkness that Jaemin’s hand releases itself from your wrist, finds its way up to your cheek. Here, he leans in and kisses you - pressing his chapped lips against yours gently, but with enough intent and purpose that you swear you were seeing stars after a few moments. It doesn’t last long, as all fairytales would tell you. When you part, Jaemin rests his forehead against yours, both slightly damp from the Florida humidity, and you can feel him smile against you, somehow breathless, letting out a low chuckle, before asking,

“Did you think I was talking about the fireworks?”

#na jaemin #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream #nct fluff #jaemin #nct scenarios #na jaemin fluff #na jaemin fic #jaemin fic #jaemin fluff #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream fluff

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imagineredwood · 4 years

Text

“Are you up?”

Summary: You and Angel have broken up and while it was somewhat mutual, you miss each other desperately. He does his best to stay away, feeling that you deserve better, but when you send him a needy late night text, he’s on his way to remind you what you’re missing.

Pairing: Angel Reyes x reader

Warnings: Sexual content, Oral sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk mild praise kink, you name it honestly lol

Word count: 3k

***Here’s another story that I decided to write from an idea that’s plagued me for literal months lmao. Not requested.***

You sighed as you laid in bed, filthy thoughts consuming your mind. You were needy, not having been touched in over a month. You and Angel had broken up and you had been trying to move on from that. It had been somewhat mutual, though it fell more on your side for both the idea and the execution. He had gotten more and more busy with the club, which meant less and less time for you. As a result, you had become more needy, and Angel had become more frustrated. It had come to a head when you had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him to get back from his run, only to find out the next day that he gone straight to the clubhouse with the boys and gotten drunk without even thinking to send you a text or call.

You had made up your mind then, deciding that even though it was going to hurt to throw away the last year of your life with the man that you so desperately loved, you needed to split. And Angel had agreed, though it had torn his heart out to do so. Truth was, he was scared. He was falling more and more in love with you each passing day and he had gotten scared. What if he wasn’t good enough for you to stay? What if you found someone better? What if you came to the realization that you deserved better? And so, he had tried to protect himself. To shield himself from the pain o rejection and abandonment which he had become so familiar with. At the time he had felt that the best way to do that was to put distance. To create a wedge where at least he was the one in control. He had pushed you to the edge and when you had finally had enough, he tried to convince himself that he was better off.

Slowly it dawned on him that not only was that not true, he had sabotaged probably the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had found someone that loved him, supported him, looked after, and took care of him. Yet he threw it all away in the name of misguided self-preservation.

And it did not take long for the realization to kick in.

He had been a ghost since. He wasn’t as bright as he was when he was with you. He had bags under his eyes, surviving off of booze and cigarettes. It had taken a scolding from Taza and Bishop for him to finally sit down and have a balanced meal.

You hadn’t been much better. Angel had at least been able to shed some his pain in the arms of the club girls though, while you had not been with anyone. You wanted to; to go out and receive some attention and affection even if it was only for the night. Yet you could never manage. Angel had been your first. He was the only man you had ever known intimately. So you had chickened out at last minute on taking home the tattooed man you had been flirting with tonight.

But now you were alone, aching for the touch of a man. For the feeling of being covered by a body as they did what they wanted with you. The feeling of being filled and loved on.

You were aching for the feeling of Angel.

How his lips felt on your neck. How his ringed fingers felt when they pumped inside of you. How heavy his cock felt when it was filling you to the point of seeing stars. How far he stretched you. How empty you felt when he finally pulled out to go to sleep. You were aching for that.

Plainly, you were aching for Angel.

With a sigh, you sat up grabbing your phone. It was late, but not late enough for him to be asleep. Typing swiftly, you sent him a quick text.

‘Are you up?’

You were honestly not even expecting a response. Yet not only did he respond, his answer came back before you could even put the phone down.

‘Yeah. You ok?’

At the clubhouse, Angel was quickly sitting up straighter, his heart picking up speed as he worried something had happened to you. He stared at the screen for a few more agonizing seconds, waiting to see your response.

‘I’m fine. You busy?’

‘Nope.’

‘Do you wanna come over?’

Angel sat still in disbelief. Was this a test? Angel had thought that he had ruined his chance with you forever. That there was no way you would ever settle for him again. Yet you were inviting him over? He wasn’t sure what for, but he was not about to complain. The phone buzzed in his hand and he read your newest message five times over.

‘I need you’

He was up and out of his seat then, rushing out of the clubhouse in a hurry, the others looking at him in confusion.

“Where you going, homie?”

He didn’t answer them, typing his reply out.

‘On my way.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

The sound of Angel’s Harley pulling up into your driveway was something you thought you would never hear again. It made butterflies take flight in your tummy, your heart starting to speed up, your thighs rubbing together in anticipation.

Unlocking the door and pulling it open, you watched as Angel walked up to you, his eyes glued to yours. He stopped when he was in front of you, his hands holding onto the sides of his kutte. Little did you know it was because he was trying desperately not to reach out and touch you.

“Hey, querida.”

“Hey.”

You pulled the door open further for him to walk inside. Locking up behind him, you turned to find him standing there, eyes on you. Neither of you spoke as you walked up to him slowly. Angel looked you over, his throat bobbing as he looked at your attire of a shirt and panties. He looked closer, feeling his heart clench as he saw at what shirt you wore. It was the old one you’d had for years that he had sprayed with his cologne for you to have while he was on a run. After you had broken up, he figured you would have thrown it away, burned it maybe. Yet there you were wearing it. You caught his gaze and then looked down to follow it.

“I…I was missing you.”

Angel had planned to keep his hands to himself, let you initiate, but your words broke his self-restraint. He took another step forward, sliding his right arm around your waist while his left hand came up to hold your chin softly. His voice was soft and quiet, yet husky.

“I’m right here.”

You nodded, your own hands coming up to hold his waist. Leaning toward him, you pressed your lips against his, both of you closing your eyes as you relished in the familiar act. Your hands slid up his body, coming to rest on his chest. Angel placed his hands over yours, growling at how they engulfed yours. You continued to kiss, both your mouths and hands growing more and more needy. You clutched at his kutte, missing the sound of the leather as it rubbed in your grasp. Angel on the other hand was grasping at your ass, his hands running over your hips, lower back, and thighs.

He had been with club girls after the breakup, and while they were all gorgeous and worthwhile, they just weren’t you. They didn’t rile him up the way you did, and he knew now that it was because of the love he had for you. Love that went deeper than just having a girl on his arm. That knowledge had scared him at first, but now it only made him hard.

He let you pull his kutte off his shoulders, tossing it over onto your couch. His hands continued to roam over you, both of you making out as you stumbled to your bedroom, shedding clothing along the way. By the time you were standing at your bed, you were entirely naked, Angel finally shedding his boxers. You both stood there bare, chests heaving from the lack of air. He was reaching to cradle your face then, his eyes honest as they look at you.

“What do you want me to do? I’ll do whatever you want.”

You nodded gently, reaching up to his face as well. You dragged your index finger along his bottom lip, watching as it pulled down before bouncing back into place. He always did have a sinfully good mouth.

“I want your mouth on me. Please.”

The please was not really necessary. Angel would have done it no matter how you asked him. He nodded and placed his hands on your hips, turning you. You assumed the position you had been in so many times before, crawling onto the bed on your hands and knees, letting your cheek rest against the sheets with your ass propped up high. Angel did not skip a beat, climbing up behind you, his mouth kissing along the backs of your thighs. His hands came up, grasping your ass and massaging it. Part of him wanted to tease, but the majority of him just wanted to give you everything. To give you his all until you were a wet, trembling mess. He wanted to make you feel how sorry he was for letting you go and hopefully get you back.

Angel slid his hands down, his thumbs pressing to either side of your pussy before pulling outward and spreading you. He cursed as he looked at your opening, your wetness sticky and slick as it coated you.

“You always did have such a pretty little hole.”

Your breathing was already picking up speed before he had really even touched you and it made Angel feel good to know that you needed him as much as he needed you. He kept you spread open, leaning closer to lick into you. He groaned at the taste of you, not realizing just how much he had missed it.

“You taste so good mami, fuck.”

Your whimper paired with feeling your pussy clench around his tongue made him smile. You always did like him giving you dirty praise. Scooting even closer to you, he reached up and placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing it gently as he kept working his mouth on you. His beard added to the sensation as he buried his face into you. Your hips began to swivel on their own, pushing back onto his face and earning a moan from him that made a shiver run through you.

“There you go, good girl. Use my mouth, baby.”

And so you did, softly pushing back on him, your eyes closed, and your bottom lip caught between your teeth and you rubbed yourself against his mouth. He kept doing his own thing though, strengthening his tongue so he could bury it in you. It did not take long for your thighs to begin shaking, your moans low and drawn out as you called his name.

“God, Angel, don’t stop. Please.”

Angel kept at it, slipping two thick ringed fingers into you until you were clenching and squeezing, slowly collapsing flat onto the bed. Angel kissed along your back and sides, working his way up your body slowly, letting you catch your breath. He stopped at your shoulders, speaking into your ear.

“You still on the pill?”

“Mhmm.”

Angel nodded and then sat up some, looking down at you.

“Do you want it like this?”

Turning your head, you laid it sideways so you could look at him over your shoulder, giving a nod. That was all Angel needed, sitting back up to kneel behind you. He grabbed himself and ran the tip through your lips, gathering your wetness before he placed himself at your entrance. He pushed in slowly, placing his hands down onto the mattress beside your head, holding himself up as he sunk into you. He shuddered as he stayed still, trying not to cum right there from how warm you were. You felt like home and he wanted to make sure you knew that.

“You feel so fucking good, mi dulce. So perfect.”

He began thrusting then, slow deep strokes. He pulled out nearly all the way before sinking back into you fully once again. The slow pace was not was you needed though.

“I need you to fuck me hard, Angel.”

“Ok, baby.”

With that, he sat back up, staying on his knees, and grabbing your hips to arch you. He tugged you back, your body at an angle as he had your pelvis on his lap. He pushed back into you then and started a bruising pace, your ass jiggling from the force. He looked down between your bodies where you were connected, watching as your pussy gripped him. How his thickness stretched you. How you lifted off just a little whenever he bottomed out, that last inch just a little too deep. Your whines and pants were music to his ears and his mouth started on a roll.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, mi vida. You always look so good taking my cock.”

Angel’s hips slapped against your ass as he pounded you, your brows knitted in pure ecstasy. Reaching underneath you, your fingers danced on your clit, Angel growling as you got tighter around him from the added stimulation. He reached down and pulled you up, not wanting you to have to do anything. He wanted you to just enjoy it while he ruined you, making it a point to remind you of what you were missing in hopes that you would forgive him for his stupidity and take him back.

With you both kneeling straight up now, Angel wrapped his left arm around your shoulders, holding you upright to him while his right slid down between your legs. He rubbed at your clit firmly, his mouth on your neck as he stroked the sensitive little pearl. You whimpered, the metal from his rings cold and shocking on the sensitive flesh. He could fill you at a different angle this way and fucked you hard, staring at your face with adoration as your mouth dropped open, feeling another orgasm approaching fast.

“There you go. There’s my baby. Come on me again. I know you can, mami. Let me feel you. Good girl.”

Your moans devolved into a sob as you came for the second time, Angel hissing as your pussy squeezed around him almost as tightly as your hands squeezed his forearm. He slowed his thrusts, pushing into you languidly as he let you come down some. Your whimpers were high pitched and whiny, signs that you were already feeling slightly overstimulated. Angel was not done with you just yet though. He slowed his pace down some but kept the depth, his mouth to your ear as he continued to fill you, his hand leaving your clit and coming up to press against your abdomen.

“You feel me? Right here deep in your tummy, mi amor? That’s where I belong. Right here.”

He caressed the soft flesh above your mound as you reached behind you to hold the back of his head. You didn’t respond verbally, too fucked out to put together a sentence. You simply nodded and whispered his name like a prayer, your eyes full of love and longing as you looked at him. He went for you clit one last time, rubbing you softly not to hurt you. You came once more without much effort, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes when you did. It did not take much more of that to make him cum as well, his warmth spreading through you as he filled you up to the brim.

He laid you down then, falling to lay spooning behind you as you both tried to catch your breath. You were both spent, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Angel groaned quietly as he felt the small aftershocks run through your walls, milking him for everything he had.

You both stayed laying there until your breathing had returned to normal, Angel starting to pull out slowly. The sensation forced a hiss from him, his cock sensitive. Your tiny whimper told him that you were in the same boat. He took a deep breath, brushing back the hair that had fallen into his face from the exertion. He sat up, looking down at your body, seeing the white streak of his cum dripping out of you and he reached over to run his fingers down your spine.

“Let me help you get cleaned up.”

Sitting up yourself, Angel looked at you, swallowing nervously.

“I uh, I know this is really not the best time but I just gotta get this shit off my chest.”

Your nod was unsure as you looked at him.

“I know I fucked us up. I got scared and I ruined something good. I don’t deserve you and I get scared that you’re gonna realize that one day, so I pushed you away. You deserve someone better than my ass, but I really want you back, if you want me.”

Locking your eyes with his, you saw all the emotions he had worked so hard to keep you from seeing in your relationship.

The fear.

The worry.

The insecurity.

He was being open with you. Letting down his walls and being vulnerable, which was all that you had really ever wanted. With a sigh, you stood on shaky legs, Angel standing with you quickly to steady you. You traced his tattooed chest with your finger before looking up at him, finding his face looking like that of a scared child.

“I have to know that you’re not gonna run when shit gets bad.”

The Mayan nodded quickly, grabbing your hand, and bringing it up to his mouth to kiss your fingers.

“I swear I’ll never do it again.”

You continued to look at him for a few seconds more before nodding.

“Okay.”

Angel’s head nodded as well, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.

“Okay.”

General taglist @piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @elcococruz @fanaticfangurl21 @ifoundmyhappythought @encounterthepast @iambabyharry @svintsandghosts

Mayans taglist @dazzledamazon @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @angelreyesgirl @wrcn9fvlcver

#angel reyes #angel x reader #Mayans MC #imagines #mayans fx #angel reyes imagine #mayans imagine

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nikkoliferous · 3 years

Text

Phase One: Avengers (Part Two)

Apparently I had so much to comment on this crappy book that I had to break this up into two parts (you can read part one here). No, I have nothing to say for myself. Lol

Let’s continue.

Clint Barton and Loki’s hand-picked strike team were in a stolen Quinjet with a faked S.H.I.E.L.D. call sign, 26-Bravo. That got them close enough that by the time the air-traffic officer on the Helicarrier knew something was wrong, it was already too late.

Whoa whoa whoa. I thought you said Loki didn’t care about the details. I thought you said such things were beneath him. Make up your mind.

With a last heave and twist, she freed herself from the fallen beam and ran. At that moment, the Hulk turned and saw her. She vaulted up a stairway and onto the next level. The Hulk swiped at the stairway and shredded it into scrap metal. Loki had gotten what he wanted. He must have been trying to time it so he could manipulate Bruce into becoming the Hulk right as his soldiers came to attack the Helicarrier. The Hulk would do at least as much damage from the inside as the rogue Quinjet could do from the outside.

Yes. Yes, he did. Lol

Natasha kept running, and the Hulk came right behind her. For a moment, she thought she’d lost him, but then he came at her out of the shadows, roaring. He was like walking rage, a single-minded engine of destruction. She shot a hole in the pipe over his head. Steam shot out of it into the Hulk’s eyes, stopping him for just the moment she needed to get a head start. She ran as fast as she could, but she knew she wasn’t going to stay away from him for long. He came after her, smashing through bulkheads and doorways like they weren’t even there and roaring the whole time.

Mood, though.

Steve got to the edge of the turbine mount about the same time as Tony. “I’m here!” he called out.

“Good,” Tony said, dropping into view and hovering in the Iron Man armor to survey the wreckage. He had the suit on, and Steve could hear his voice through the earbud microphone all S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel wore. At least that channel was still intact; if they lost communications, they’d be done for.

Convenient. Clint would absolutely know this, which means either 1) he's incompetent, 2) he's not as mind-controlled as we think, or 3) Loki allowed/arranged for his own team's semi-failure.Take your pick.

“What’s it look like in there?” Tony asked.

“It seems to run on some form of electricity,” Steve said.

Tony was shoving loose huge pieces of debris that prevented the turbine blades from rotating. “Well, you’re not wrong,” he said.

Steve fumed. He wasn’t here for technical support. But that was all he could do at the moment.

Ironic for Steve to call out Tony for being useless without his suit when Steve is apparently useless at anything other than beating people up. Lol

Tony stood inside the turbine housing, looking at the blades. He’d cleared most of the debris jamming the rotors. “Even if I clear the rotors,” he said, “this thing won’t reengage without a jump. I’m going to have to get in there and push.”

“If that thing gets up to speed, you’ll get shredded,” Steve said.

Hey hey hey now, I thought Tony wasn't the type of guy to sacrifice himself??

The Hulk stomped around the flight deck, roaring. He saw Thor and swung a fist twice the size of Thor’s head. Thor caught it in both hands, straining to hold both the Hulk’s arm and his attention. “We are not your enemies, Banner,” he grunted. “Try to think!”

Now, where have I heard that before...?

In answer, the Hulk punched him through the wall.

Jealous.

Thor got up and watched the Hulk coming after him. Now this was a fight! He held out a hand, waiting for Mjolnir to return to him. Mjolnir smashed through another wall and reached Thor’s hand just as the charging Hulk came within striking distance.

What's a little bloodlust between friends, amirite?

The Hulk caught the hammer, and a fierce grin spread over his face… then he toppled backward and Mjolnir pinned him to the floor of the hangar.

None but I can lift Mjolnir, Thor thought. Not even this giant.

Yes, yes. You're very special, Thor. We're all super impressed, promise.

“You like this?” Coulson asked, meaning the gun. “We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don’t know what it does.” He powered it up, and rings along its barrel glowed bright orange. “Want to find out?”

But Loki wasn’t there in front of him. Thor saw it too late to do anything. That Loki was an illusion… and the real Loki was behind Coulson.

Lokiception.

“You lack conviction,” Coulson said. He did not move from where he sat against the wall. Blood trickled at the corner of his mouth, and the enormous gun lay uselessly across his lap.

Of all the things Coulson might have said, this was perhaps the one Loki expected least. I have moved worlds out of conviction, he thought. Made bargains with beings who snuff out planets as an afterthought. “I don’t think I…”

"bargains"

“Tasha,” he said. “How many agents did I—?”

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t do that to yourself, Clint. This is Loki. This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for.” Better than maybe anyone on the Helicarrier, Natasha Romanoff knew you couldn’t blame yourself for things you did while you were brainwashed. All you could do was try to heal and get things right the next time.

OH? DO TELL.

“Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction, I’ll give you that one,” Tony said. “But let’s do a head count here. Your brother the demigod, a Super-Soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend, a man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins… and you, big fella, you’ve managed to piss off every single one of them.”

“That was the plan,” Loki said with a grin.

“Not a great plan,” Tony said.

YOU'RE RIGHT, TONY. IT'S AN OBJECTIVELY TERRIBLE PLAN. NOW ASK YOURSELF WHY HE WOULD DO THAT ON PURPOSE.

“You’re missing the point!” he said, and his tone got sharper. “There’s no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it’s too much for us… but it’s all on you. Because if we can’t protect the Earth, you can be sure we’ll avenge it.”

Weeeeeell...

With those last words, he tapped Tony on the chest with his scepter, just has he had Hawkeye and Dr. Selvig. Nothing happened. The Arc Reactor in Tony’s chest countered the scepter’s effect.

Loki tried it again. “This usually works.…”

“Well,” Tony said, “best-laid plans. You know the saying.”

Uncomfortable with mild swear words and dick jokes, I see. Lol

Look at this!” Thor shouted, holding Loki and forcing him to gaze out over the destruction in the city. “You think this madness will end with your rule?”

“It’s too late,” Loki said. Thor thought he was beginning to understand what he had done. “It’s too late to stop it.”

“No,” Thor said. “We can. Together.”

Loki looked him in the eye… and then betrayed Thor again, stabbing him in the side with a knife hidden in his sleeve. Thor dropped to the ground, clutching the wound. “Sentiment,” Loki said mockingly.

OH MY GOD. HE'S MOCKING HIMSELF, YOU ABSOLUTE KNUCKLEHEAD. I swear to god, this author sat down and went, "Hmm. How can I systematically erase any and all complexity this character possesses so he's as generic a villain as possible?"

CASE IN POINT:

On a bridge, Cap huddled behind a destroyed car with the Black Widow and Hawkeye. “Lots of civilians trapped up there,” Hawkeye said, indicating the nearby buildings. A flight of Chitauri went over, and Cap noticed something different about one of them.

“Loki,” he said. He was shooting at the civilians fleeing through the streets. “They’re fish in a barrel down there.”

It can be admittedly hard to tell because most shots of the Chitauri vehicles firing on people are from too far away to tell who's piloting... but I checked the clips from the Battle of NY and the only person Loki can definitively be seen firing at is Natasha. On another Chitauri whatever-you-call-them. Not even aiming for the street.

Thor was still watching the Chitauri zipping overhead. “I have unfinished business with Loki.”

“Yeah?” Hawkeye said. “Get in line.”

“Save it,” Steve said. “Loki’s going to keep this fight focused on us, and that’s what we need. Otherwise those things could run wild. We’ve got Stark up on top—”

Almost as if... according to plan...

Look, I have historically not bought into the full "Loki formed the Avengers so he could lose on purpose" theory because I feel that it contradicts the canon explanation that he was being influenced by the sceptre. But... you'd have to be an absolute moron to think he wasn't sabotaging himself, whether accidentally or on purpose. I suppose one could argue that just because it was amplifying his negative emotions, that doesn't necessarily mean it prevented him from working against his "allies". But if it wasn't affecting his actions at all, I don't know why they'd bother to confirm the theory as canon.

Also, like... according to this book, Loki is somehow targeting civilians and not targeting civilians at the same time ?? lmao

“Dr. Banner,” Steve said. “Now might be a really good time for you to get angry.”

Bruce was already walking toward the Leviathan. “That’s my secret, Captain,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m always angry.”

Same, tbh.

Thor reached the top of the Empire State Building and lifted Mjolnir. Storm clouds gathered and lightning struck down, hundreds of bolts reaching for Mjolnir. Thor turned the Empire State Building’s iconic spire into a lightning rod, gathering the force of the elements into it. Then he thrust Mjolnir in the direction of the portal. All the energy he had built up blazed out in a single forking bolt. It struck and destroyed every single Chitauri between the Empire State Building and the portal itself. Hundreds of them exploded and tumbled from the sky at once, including several of the Leviathans that tumbled down to smash into buildings below.

...so why didn't Thor just keep doing this for the rest of the battle? Too draining, or not exciting enough? Lol

Satisfied, Thor nodded and glanced over at the Hulk. Perhaps the scales were evened from their last fight against each other on the Helicarrier—

The Hulk shot out his left fist and smashed Thor all the way across the block-long gallery. Then it was his turn to look satisfied.

Jealous. Again.

Maybe that was just Loki, but Steve was starting to feel like the Chitauri were going to absorb every punch the Avengers could throw. They had to close that portal, or nothing was going to stop the invasion.

Well then. It sure is fortunate that Loki allowed Selvig to install a failsafe, huh?

Fury stood and listened to the World Security Council explain that they had decided to take the operation out of his hands. They were going to use a nuclear missile to destroy the Tesseract and close the portal—but at the cost of untold civilian lives. Fury protested as strongly as he could and one of the councilors cut him off. “Director Fury. The Council has made a decision.”

These crazy motherfuckers would have killed so many more people than Loki it's not even funny.

...and tbh, it probably wouldn't even have destroyed the Tesseract, so they would have killed them for literally no reason too.

The Hulk paused, confused.

“You are, all of you, beneath me!” Loki raged.

Not yet, sir, but I would very much like to be. 😏

She knelt next to him and said, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

Selvig digested this for a moment and then said, “Actually I think I did. I built in a safety to cut the power source.”

Of note and as alluded to previously:

1) The mind control over Barton and Selvig was not absolute either; therefore, if they are not responsible for their actions over the course of this movie, Loki is not responsible for his either.

2) If The Other could hear everything Loki was up to, it's very likely that Loki could hear everything Barton and Selvig were up to as well. Meaning that, at a minimum, he knew about the failsafe and did nothing about it.

The missile had a lot of momentum built up, and Tony’s Mark 7 suit was not operating at full capacity after the amount of energy he’d expended in the battle already. It was no easy task to get the missile angled up sharply enough to clear the tallest buildings in Midtown—especially Stark Tower. That was where the missile seemed to want to go. So, Tony thought, the World Security Council is jealous of me, too.

Look, I get that he's mostly just being witty, but seriously... this dude is out here accusing Loki of being an egomaniac? Lol

He got underneath the missile and angled it upward, straining against its stabilizers, which tried to keep it on course. But slowly he forced it up, and once he got its warhead pointed at an angle, pushing it into a steeper climb got easier. A little.

Steve Rogers’s voice broke his concentration. “Stark, you know that’s a one-way trip?”

So... you're admitting you were wrong, then? 🙃

The Avengers looked up. On the roof of Stark Tower, Natasha said, “Come on, Stark.”

They saw the explosion through the portal, brilliant as a new sun. There was no way Tony could have survived that.

I was wrong about him, Steve thought. When the time came, he did make the sacrificial play.

Thanks, Steve. That's really all I wanted.

Loki had just gotten himself put back together enough to get out of the hole in the floor. Painfully he dragged himself toward the door. Never had a mortal damaged him as much as that green monster. He would be healing for a long time.

He's literally in better shape now than when he came through the portal. And the author made zero mention of his health there.

But heal he would, and then he would have his revenge. Even though the portal had collapsed and he had lost the Tesseract. Even though his Chitauri army was destroyed. Loki would show the so-called Avengers they never should have opposed him.

Raise your hand if you watched Avengers and thought Loki was thinking about revenge right after getting Hulk-smashed. Why aren't any of you raising your hands??

Seriously, there are two emotions I felt from Loki at the end of Avengers Assemble: relief and anxiety. I have no idea why Alex Irvine is so intent on turning him into a boring, one-dimensional villain, but it made this book absolutely insufferable to read.

Anyway, that's it! I hope you all found this as entertaining and cathartic as I did. Lol

↩️ Back to Part One

#loki meta #loki #thor #tony stark #steve rogers #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #clint barton #avengers assemble #mcu #phase one: avengers

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eddiecabotsmile · 3 years

Note

heey! can you please do reader, dogs and eddie (gosh why do i always giggle at "the dogs aNd EdDiE skskksls okay nvm) flying on vacation after ✨successful heist✨? like not fic but this stuff • • • • for each of them dating reader? lmao my explanation skills📉📉

my understanding skills 📈📈 it is kinda funny, now i’ll read it in the same way haha! this is very cute aw. ALSO SORRY THIS IS LIKE 5 PAGES LONGGG LOL - love daisy

hc: the dogs taking you on vacation

pink

pink never gets out much other than.. well he doesn’t get out

and to combat the high heat and high intensity of the heist, you travel to canada

pink turned his head to you, “canada?” he repeated

basically it took forever to convince him because he’s stubborn

“baby no, move, i’m not going anywhere where there’s snow”

mr pink snowboarding is cute asf

but giving him puppy eyes and he caves :))

you covered your mouth in attempt to stop from laughing out loud — he did not appreciate that

you surprise him with a snowboarding class

teaching mr pink to snowboard is so cute, he’s like a baby deer with his long legs

eventually him getting the hang of it and racing you down the baby hill

“you know, this wasn’t that bad” he said with a slight smile

you two head back to the cabin and get ready for bed

just then you remembered you had booked an extra special surprise for him, pink looked back at you as you grabbed his hand

“hey, come outside i have something to show you” you led him outside to reveal the hot tub

hot tub time !!!

pink would do anything you asked in that moment,,, he’s so in love with you

mr pink grabbing, and dipping you into a breath taking kiss that left you a bit dizzy

his eyes darted over your body as you revealed your swimming suit — he couldn’t wait to get his hands over you

“ah ah” you tutted, moving his hands “you can touch me in the pool, cmon”

maybe him having one cigarette — “hey! i thought we were celebrating here. you know i quit”

allowing him to have only ONE cigarette

and as expected he didn’t want to leave and you have to draggg him out of bed

“let’s go lazy bones, we’re gonna miss our flight” he throws a pillow at your head and misses “who cares, everything here is way nicer”

orange

freddy probably books you two just in time for comic con !!

dressing up as spider man and spider gwen,, and being the cutest couple there

most of your time is spent there, buying comics and taking pictures

when you’re not having the time of your nerd lives,, you’re eating !!

hitting up almost every restaurant you can find then some ice cream to finish it off

right around the corner from the building there’s a little ice cream shop you two visit

trying almost every flavor on the menu available, and the sweet old man working there is more than happy to supply

freddy never ceases to amaze the man by how much ice cream he can consume

seriously, freddy is an ice cream freak

you two grab a seat outside on the benches and stop to talk about what all you did there

freddy still in his spider-man costume, and you in your spider-gwen

“oh man, did you see that heimdall costume? the sword was huge, i swear it was this close to my face” freddy said excitedly, he got super close to your face

only getting close demonstrate of course, and kiss you

his cold lips moved against yours hungrily, before slipping his wet tongue inside of your mouth

“mmh you taste sweet” you teased, “yeah? is that so..”

you two probably get brain freeze so hard

if there’s anything he loves it’s taking pictures!!

freddy fills up like 2 whole disposable cameras

don’t blame him, he loves the memoriessss

best trip ever :)

blonde

there’s not many places vic likes to go other than the bar, and home to you

but he does love new york, him and eddie went for a little bit back when they were younger

vic knows his way around new york like the back of his hand

and he has really big hands ;)

at first you’re like, “vic this isn’t a vacation spot” to which he rolls his eyes, “hush doll face, daddy knows what he’s doing”

you two get to stay in a realllyyyyy nice penthouse (courtesy of cabots)

this is the first time you’ve really seen vic so childlike

everyday you two went out to a different part of new york

he even took you to see hamlet on broadway, one of your favorite things you had done

but of course acting like a bit of a brat because you’ve been spoiled so much this whole trip

vic speaking to you in that hushed gravelly voice of his, “if you keep acting like a brat, i’m gonna fuck you like one”

ohh man, vic is so happy he can cross theater sex off of his list

taking you shopping of course — “yes baby, anywhere you’d like”

maybe getting him a few new items too

vic pushed the curtain to the side dramatically, and waltz out of the dressing room

gaining attention from everyone in the store with how hard you were laughing

vic had tried on a pair of cowboy boots and didn’t know how to act

“howdy little lady, you know where a cowboy can get a drink around here? or a dance?” he said in his best country accent

but it failed and he ended up laughing too

the last night of vacation vic took you to times square at night, he swore it was magical. and he was so right :)

the lights of the billboards, screens, cars and other lights illuminated the expression of love on vics face

he was truly happy in these moments

vic pulled you into a deep kiss in the middle of times square

white

larry’s been planning this surprise for a while now

probably takes you somewhere tropical like hawaii

where he can wear all the hawaiian shirts

seriously, he packed hawaiian shirts and hawaiian shirts only

“eh, what do you think? too flowery or no?” — you’re like “baby they’re the same shirt”

and the whole time you two are there he can’t keep his hands to himself

larry placing a flower behind your ear which makes you blush so hard

he’s all like “what? a pretty flower for my pretty girl”

the lovely locals letting larry and you help prepare food for the luau

which larry gets so excited for because he loves to cook eat

taking pics of larry holding the pig roast,, his face is so smiley and happy

booking hula dancing because you know he can’t dance,, but he’s got the spirit !!

you watched as larry moved his hips stiffly to the beat, he was trying so hard

he looked over at you with an awkward expression which made you laugh

walking the beach at sunset with your fingers interlaced, carelessly swinging your arms

nothing was said, just the sound of the waves washing up and down the shore, warm winds blowing, and occasionally a seagull

the orange sun casted a warm glow on your skin that made him go crazy, and clearly he couldn’t resist

larry grabbed you right under your butt and lifted you into the air making you laugh

“i love you more than anything, sweetheart”

nothing could beat this, and larry had to agree

the warm tropical air brushed past you, slightly raising your skirt

larry noticed, now feeling hot himself as he leaned to whisper in your ear

“let’s get back to our room, eh? i’m feeling like doing a different type of dance”

brown

i imagine mr brown whisks you away somewhere far away

he kept the location a secret the whole week, which was hard for him considering, well lol he’s mr brown

the moment you stepped off the plane you knew where you were

the hotel where they filmed the shining. typical.

“nope i wanna go back” “baby wai-” “nope, i’m leaving” he whines, “come back i promise”

brown’s hand held yours, now making your way to the room where you would be staying

giving him the silent treatment pretty much all day

as much as you loved him, you wanted to have an escape from everything, even kubrick

plus, this place was creepy as hell

he left for an hour or two, leaving you alone in one of his sweaters, curled up on the bed

he came in to the room with two mugs of hot chocolate and a blanket

brown placed them on the nightstand and crawled up the bed towards you, planting kisses up your feet to your calves

once he reached your face he gave you a sorry look — “baby, i wanna show you something. to say, i’m sorry, because i really am”

mr brown helping you get dressed, even zipping up your jacket and kissing your nose

walking around the garden at night, gazing at the snowy sky

mr brown wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side — this was perfect

“oh, look over there” “look at what?” and when you turn back he’s taking off towards the hotel

you both laugh now, racing each other to the hotel room

he slows down just enough that you can catch up to him

mr brown’s cute little cheeks are red from running so fast

he pants, “i almost, i almost out ran you back there” “yeah i know, asshole”

he’s all like who you callin asshole, and you reach down and throw some freshly fallen snow on his face — oh it’s on now, snowball fight!!

the rest of the trip is laid back, with tours of the grounds, more hot cocoa, oh and mr brown claiming “i swear i saw jack torrance! honey wait!”

eddie

the heist was really stressful on both you and eddie, and he felt really bad :(

eddie joined you on the couch, scooping you up in his cuddly arms, carefully not to hurt you

he pressed a kiss to your head, “you want to head to daddy’s vacation house, i promise it’ll help take your mind off of things”

you start packing your bags and leave that night

of course the cabots have a private jet,, of course

you’re sat next to eddie on the jet when he starts to unbuckle

“where are you going?” and eddie just laughs and grabs your hand, “cmon let’s pass the time”

sex on the private jet 😎

when you finally arrive the house is beautiful !!

it’s way bigger than your shared house with eddie

the first think you two do is get into the pool,, before unpacking, settling in, and all that good stuff

because you’re both impatient asf and deserve a break

eddie has his hands around your waist, bending down to kiss and nip your neck

“eddie, i need to put sunscreen on you stop moving” you giggle

“ah! sunscreen later, pool now, baby”

he slung you over his shoulder and headed straight for the pool despite your protests

splashing each other in the water — “i think you need a big strong man to come save you” then he gets water in his eyes and complains

he looks like a wet golden retriever tbh it’s adorable

that night he pops a bottle of champagne and you two toast, “here’s to a job well done, and an even better partner in crime”

sitting on the balcony wrapped in white fluffy robes cuddling up to each other

nothing but love and adoration between you and eddie — and you can see it in the way he looks at you

oh, and sex in the white fluffy robes 😎

#reservoir dogs headcanons #reservoir dogs x reader #mr pink headcanon #mr pink x reader #mr orange headcanon #mr orange x reader #mr blonde headcanon #mr blonde x reader #mr white headcanon #mr white x reader #mr brown headcanon #mr brown x reader #nice guy eddie headcanon #eddie cabot headcanon

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xbaepsae · 4 years

Text

5280 feet (m)

“Never in your life have you met such a cocky, yet still strangely attractive, person. His words really struck a chord in you, and now you really can’t stop imagining your legs wrapped around him…or his cock in your mouth.”

[jimin x flight attendant!reader]

genre: mile high club!au, smut, slight pwp, some humor, some fluff (if you squint)

word count: 5.8k

rating: mature

warnings: uhhhh unprotected airplane sex lmao, fingering, oral, cum shot, more unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of alcohol, language

a/n: please tell me i’m not the only one who fantasizes about being a member of the mile high club?? LOL. i planned this fic a while ago, but forgot about it until yesterday. and surprisingly, all 5k+ came pretty naturally; of course, i never intended it to be 5k lol. the plot just kept continuing. xoxo

“I think one of these days, I’m just going to collapse and die,” you say, taking a sip of your coffee. It tasted dark and bitter—much like your mood right now.

“Oh, you’re being dramatic,” Seokjin rolls his eyes, “you love this job.”

He was right—you did love being a flight attendant. It was probably the best decision you’ve ever made, and you’ve made a lot of bad ones. Instead of completing the standard four years of college, you managed one measly semester and decided school just wasn’t for you. The only reason you applied was for your mother’s sanity anyway; you promised you’d try, and try you did. Obviously, your mother freaked because your life was doomed—a fucking college dropout; what good could come from it?

Well, five years later, you’d consider your life pretty successful. Not only have you traveled all over the world, but you’ve met some interesting people. The only downside to this career was the demanding, god-forsaken hours.

Take your predicament right now as an example; you woke up this morning at around four o’clock, dazed and confused, before remembering that you spent another night at a hotel in an unfamiliar city. You’ve never really been a morning person, so you’ve yet to master the early morning calls.

After an entire day of flying, along with an array of rude and needy passengers, you are on the last flight of the day—the flight that is going to take you home to your bed.

Pulling your suitcases behind you, you and Seokjin make it to the gate of your final assignment for the day and greet the pilot. He lets you know that the flight is going to be over two hours and you’re completely okay with that.

“Whatever will get me home tonight, Yoongi,” you smile tiredly, realizing that your coffee is already finished.

“It shouldn’t be a terribly full flight, so I think we’ll manage.”

Yoongi boards the plane first, along with his co-pilot, to make sure everything is working properly, and lets you and Seokjin know that you two can board in ten minutes. In the time you still have to wait, people begin arriving at the gate. You hope Yoongi is right, and that the flight isn’t packed, because you honestly aren’t in the mood to deal with the audacious demands of people right now.

Quickly excusing yourself to the restroom, you freshen up a little and give yourself a little prep talk, “You can do this, y/n—just one more flight and then you have the rest of the week off.”

You are so looking forward to your break. Rarely do you ever get so many days off in-between your schedule, so you’re beyond excited. It was finally time for you and your bed to become reacquainted with one another.

When you get back to the gate, Seokjin offers you a smile. “Looking better.”

“I feel much better; maybe the caffeine is kicking in after all.” Some of your favorite workdays were the days you and Seokjin got to work together. It wasn’t often since your airline has multiple crewmembers, but these last rotation days have been fun—minus today since you’re in a rush to go home. “Got any plans when you get home?”

“I think my wife just misses me, so we’ll probably just be staying at home,” he laughs, and you wistfully sigh at the thought of marriage.

At that moment, you both get a notice to board the plane and you excitedly hand one of the desk attendants your boarding pass. As you both walk through the boarding gate, you can’t help but muse, “Must be nice to have someone to return home to.”

“Weren’t you seeing that one guy…?”

“Oh, Namjoon?” you ask, and Seokjin nods. “Yeah…I was; unfortunately, that didn’t work out.”

“What happened?” he asks.

Shrugging, you say, “I guess it was because I was busy? Being a flight attendant means I’m not always home, and Namjoon wanted someone who could always be around.”

“Are you doing alright though?”

“Oh yeah,” you nod, “I’m fine. Our relationship wasn’t that serious anyway and if I’m being honest, I really didn’t like Namjoon that much.”

Boarding the plane, you and Seokjin stow your bags away and begin preparing the necessities for the flight. After so many years in the business, all of this prep feels like second nature to you. Within minutes, you have almost everything prepped just in time for the passengers arriving on the plane.

As people begin boarding, you wear your best smile and greet them. One by one, you watch the different people boarding—you see everything from families to singles. Although you’re smiling at everyone, you’re not one hundred percent paying attention, that is until you catch the persistent gaze of one passenger.

You aren’t even actively looking at him; but you know that feeling of someone watching you? Well, for some reason, he was staring you down, so you had to look at him. And when you do, an immediate wave of heat rolls over your body. The moment he passes by you, towering a few inches above you in your modest heels, you catch a whiff of his cologne that sends a pulse down to your core.

Good thing you’ve perfected at least your poker face because hot damn that was that a fine piece of man in front of you. You’ve encountered hot passengers on other flights but never has someone affected you like this. Perhaps it was the swagger in his walk or the confidence that permeated the recycled air, but it was intoxicating.

From your peripheral, you notice that he found a seat early on the plane—meaning he was seated in first-class. You didn’t even pay attention to what he was wearing. Was he a businessman? Those are the types that always sit in first-class.

Soon, the doors of the plane shut, and you have to begin with the plane briefing and safety protocols.

“Y/n, for the safety demonstration, I’ll take the back half of the plane and you stay here in first-class, okay?” Seokjin asks from somewhere, but you can’t even focus. You absentmindedly nod before realizing that you’ll be in close proximity with that man from earlier. You’re about to protest when your friend suddenly speaks up again. “Actually, can you stay in first-class and the front of economy today? I’d rather be in the back of the plane.”

Oh, great. “Uh…sure. That’s fine, I guess.”

Beginning the safety instructions, you once again feel the same heated gaze from earlier and wonder if it’s because you look like a mess? Was there something on your uniform? You’ll be the first to admit that flight attending uniforms weren’t the cutest things in the world, but it was the standard, so you have no choice.

After you finish the safety instructions, you move onto the pre-flight service in first-class. You peaked and noticed that mystery man is sitting in the last row of first-class, so you don’t have to immediately talk to him. Even as you bring glasses of champagne and various other cups of liquor to the other passengers in first-class, the feeling of being watched never fully goes away. And eventually, you find yourself in front of him.

“Good evening sir, is there anything I can get you before we take off?” you try not to directly look at him.

“Yes, I’ll have a glass of your best red wine and you,” he says so smoothly, you almost don’t catch the bit at the end.

When you do, your eyes flutter to his. “Excuse me?”

“I wanted you to look at me, doll,” he smiles, and you feel your heart explode. This man was unbelievably attractive. You momentarily glance at his clothing and he is indeed wearing a suit. But he wears it in such a way that isn’t overly stuffy. Underneath his blazer is a simple white button-up, but the top two buttons are open and leave little to the imagination.

“Anything else besides the wine, sir?” you ignore the comment made about you.

“How about your name?” he asks, leaning towards you. Was he flirting with you?

You offer a passive smile, “I don’t think that’s on the menu.”

“Are you sure you’re not on the menu? Because,” he licks his lower lip, “I would love to have those long legs wrapped around me or maybe your sweet lips wrapped around my cock.”

If people could turn into puddles, you’d be a total melted mess right now. Instinctively, your thighs snap together, and you release a shaky breath. You nervously look around and hope no one thinks anything suspicious is happening right now. Quickly, you excuse yourself and air out the top of your uniform. It is too damn hot in here.

Walking back with a glass of red wine, you hand it to the extremely forward stranger. “Here you so, sir. I hope you enjoy.”

“I’m sorry if I was being too forward a moment ago,” he takes a sip of the wine and you watch as he licks a drop off his lips. “But you’re too beautiful and I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“No, it’s…attractive,” you admit, which not only surprises him but surprises you too.

He gives you another mega-watt smile. “The name’s Jimin.”

“Y/n,” you finally relent just as Yoongi announces that the plane is ready for takeoff. Leaving Jimin with a last look, you go and take your seat as the plane lifts into the air.

***

Once the plane reaches a certain altitude and seat belts can be unbuckled, you begin the process off offering refreshments to the other passengers. You and Seokjin tag team this feat and Yoongi was right, there aren’t as many people on this flight; this makes the whole process much easier. Even though you’re occupied with offering cups of ginger ale and sprite to passengers, you can’t stop thinking about Jimin.

You blame the fact that you haven’t had a proper orgasm in a few days. Mix that with your awful day, and you’re dying for a sweet release. For the last half hour, Jimin has had you all hot and bothered. Never in your life have you met such a cocky, yet still strangely attractive, person. His words really struck a chord in you, and now you really can’t stop imagining your legs wrapped around him…or his cock in your mouth.

“Are you okay, y/n?”

You blink at Seokjin, “Fine—just tired.”

Putting the refreshment carts away in the back, you both do one round of garbage collection before Seokjin excuses himself to the makeshift lounge. On this plane, since it is a bit bigger, there is a little lounge for the crew. However, it only fits one person usually. Pouting, you make your way back to the front of the plane and double check with a few passengers.

As you’re about to pass first-class, you feel your core tighten from the thought of being in close proximity to Jimin again. Even though you feel his eyes on you once again, you ignore the sensation and focus on the other first-class passengers.

“Can I have another glass of champagne?” one woman asks, and you promptly bring her another cold glass.

You continue catering to everyone’s needs before you find yourself in front of Jimin again. Never have you been more thankful for the bit of privacy first-class offers because the pure and unadulterated desire that seeps from Jimin almost has you on your knees. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”

“Are you still off the menu, y/n?” he asks, and the way your name rolls off his tongue makes you weak. Your expression only seems to fuel his desire though. “I’ll have another glass on red wine.”

You practically run to get the wine. As you pour his drink, you honestly aren’t sure if you’ll make it the whole flight feeling this tense. There is still at least another hour and a half of the flight, but your self-control is wearing thin. Maybe if you just quickly slipped into the lavatory…your face heats at the thought. In all of your years as a flight attendant, you’ve never even once considered doing something like that.

As someone working in the airplane industry, you’ve heard of the so-called mile high club—people who have sex on planes. You will admit that the thought has always intrigued you, but to actually participate? Not only would you be jeopardizing your job, but also your reputation.

During your first year as a flight attendant, you heard a rumor about a girl who worked on a different airline that got fired for getting caught having sex on the job. You don’t remember the details of what exactly happened, but all you need to remember is that she ended up jobless and you don’t want that to be your reality.

Walking back to Jimin, you catch him staring at you again and tension once again radiates throughout your body.

“Here you go,” you hand him the glass of wine. Just as you’re about to walk away, his hands move to wrap around your wrist.

“Tell me about yourself,” he prompts, taking you by surprise. “What? Thought that I just wanted to fuck you?”

Your mouth drops at his boldness, and Jimin comments something that sounds like you’re cute.

“I mean, I do want to do that too,” he continues, hand wrapped underneath his jaw. “But I am curious to know more about you.”

“I’m twenty-three and I’ve been a flight attendant for almost five years,” you offer, unsure if that’s the kind of information he wants to know. “I love my job and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”

Jimin takes a sip of his wine before saying, “I’m twenty-six and I work in a multi-million-dollar business. I love-hate my job but couldn’t imagine doing anything else either.”

“Is that where you’re headed today?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he unbuttons another button from his shirt and proceeds to take off his jacket. Although you try to be discreet, Jimin catches your nervous swallow. “I do these business trips every month. I have a huge meeting tomorrow morning, which is why I took a flight tonight.”

“Well, if you have a chance, the city is beautiful and you should go sightseeing,” you tell him, surprised that you both are having a normal conversation.

“You’ve been?” he asks.

You laugh in response. “I live there.”

Jimin’s eyebrows perk up. “Oh, really? I wasn’t sure since I know flight attendants spend a certain number of days working prior to flying home.”

“This is my last flight of this particular schedule,” you don’t know why you feel the need to tell him this, but the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Interesting,” Jimin nods. “Don’t you think we should celebrate?”

At his question, your brows furrow. You don’t understand what he means. “Celebrate what?”

“This being your last flight.”

“How?”

Despite the setting sun casting the cabin in golden hour, Jimin’s eyes appear to darken in the light. Something mischievous glints in them and all he says is, “Three taps.”

***

You have no idea what three taps means.

After that comment from Jimin, you walked back to your seat to contemplate his words. There is no possible way anything can happen—there is less than an hour before they land now. What kind of celebration was he even talking about?

Mulling over his words, you do a walk through all the cabins with Seokjin and snicker when you see his bedhead. “Have a good nap?”

“Even though it was only twenty minutes, I needed that,” he smiles sheepishly

“No wonder you wanted to sit in the back.”

You pick up some trash from the passengers and throw it into the trash bag that Seokjin holds. “You can have a quick nap if you want.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” you shake your head. “The flight’s almost over anyway.”

Checking your watch, there should only be about thirty minutes left of the flight. On your way back to your seat, you slip into the lavatory and splash some water on your face. You are still feeling a bit hot and bothered, but your house was within reach. And being home meant you could use all of your delicious toys tucked away in your side drawer.

Just as you wipe the water off your face, you hear a knock on the door. You yell out that it’s occupied, and even double check to make sure you locked the door. You did. So, who knocked? Throwing the paper towel away, there’s another knock on the door…and then another. Your stomach tightens when you realize there were three consecutive knocks—three taps.

You mouth runs dry at the thought of who might be on the other side of the door. There is also a jolt of electricity that runs up your spine at the thought of what’s going to happen, and even more so at the fact that you could get caught. Earlier, you were worried about getting caught and potentially losing your job; however, now, the risk thrilled you.

So, you decide to say fuck it and unlock the door.

Immediately, Jimin enters the lavatory and swiftly locks it behind him. You open your mouth to say something to him but before you can, he steps forward and pushes you back against the sink. Grabbing your face in his hands, his lips crash onto yours. You moan at the sheer force of his kiss. His lips move over yours as if he’s kissed your lips a thousand times. Like he knows exactly how to set you off.

You don’t know how, but clothes start coming off and you find yourself on your knees in front of him. Your breast are already on full display and he leans down to pinch your nipples before moving to cup your face.

“Suck my cock, baby girl,” Jimin coos, rubbing his thumb over your lips.

Unbuckling his pants, you reach into his briefs and pull out his cock. There’s already precum smeared over the tip and hard shaft, and you wonder just how long he’s been like this.

“I’ve been hard since the flight started,” he seems to read your mind. “The moment I saw that tight ass in that skirt…fuck.”

You take Jimin into your mouth without warning, marveling at his size and how you’re already dripping through your panties. You’re no prude, but you’ve never been this turned on in your life.

As you suck on the tip and work the rest with your hands, the sounds that come from Jimin’s mouth feed your desire. He’s surprisingly vocal—his moans high pitched and needy. “Yes…just like that, baby. You suck cock so well, huh?”

You hum in response, and Jimin’s hands weave their way into your hair. He guides you closer to his groin, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You choke at the sensation, but it’s worth the pleasure that Jimin seems to feel. He begins fucking your mouth; body shaking slightly at the feeling of lips around his cock.

Eventually, he pulls away and lifts you off the ground. Unexpectedly, he brings you close for another kiss—the sloppy, messy kind that moves from your lips to your jaw, and curves to your neck and collarbone. As he sucks bruises into the delicate skin of your shoulder, he raises you up on the sink and pulls your panties to the side.

The moment his thumb presses against your clit, you’re done for. You jerk at the way he works your little nub, nearly crying because you’ve wanted nothing more than release. “Oh my god, Jimin.”

It doesn’t take you long to feel the steady build of your orgasm coming. It really has been so long since you’ve felt this good; and when Jimin inserts two fingers inside of you, finding that g-spot, you come undone instantly.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” you arch back against the mirror and Jimin can’t help but stare at your expression in wonder.

“That’s right, baby,” he continues to rub your sensitive clit, helping you ride out your orgasm. “Keep coming for me, and then I’m going to fuck you so good.”

The second you come down from your high, Jimin pushes his cock into you and you let out the loudest moan. He fucks you hard and fast, hips slamming against your pelvis rhythmically. For a second, you wonder if he dances because there was no way normal hips should move that way. But that thought fades when Jimin pulls your closer to the edge of the sink, and somehow manages to get an even deeper angle.

“F-Feels so good, Jimin.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sweat starting to bead at his brow.

You nod in response and look down to see the way his cock looks entering your wet cunt. The sight alone would’ve been enough to send you over the edge again, but you held it in. More than anything, you wanted Jimin to come too. Wrapping your legs even tighter around him, you begin to meet him thrust for thrust. Soon, his hip movements become jerky and you know he’s close.

“I don’t know how much longer I-I can…” Jimin groans, slowing down. “Are you close?”

“Mhmm,” you moan. “I’m almost there….”

With a few more hard thrusts, and a thumb pressed to your clit, you shut your eyes as your second orgasm rolls over you. The way your walls clench around him have Jimin gasping as he pulls out and shoots his load all over your stomach. You watch the milky white ropes mark your skin, and even lift a bit into your mouth.

“You know, I would’ve swallowed,” you muse, loving the way Jimin’s expression darkens once again.

“I guess we’ll just have to do that next time,” he smirks, causing you to become speechless.

You both clean up in silence, and you try to make yourself look pre-coital. Jimin laughs at the way you attempt to straighten your wrinkled skirt, but you just pout because he looks amazing even with the just-fucked look. “No fair.”

“You look hot,” Jimin swears, pinching your butt a little and making you jump.

Jimin sneaks back out of the lavatory first and you follow behind a moment later, walking as casually as you can to your seat. Thankfully, you arrive just in time because Yoongi announces over the intercom that you’re descending soon, which means everyone needs to buckle up.

As the plane lands in the city, the sky is a gorgeous shade of purple dusk. Immediately, you feel reenergized from being home, and also because you just had the best sex of your life…in an airplane lavatory. You blush again at the thought of Jimin’s thick cock inside of you, and then sigh when you realize you’ll probably never see him again. What a tragedy.

The moment the plane pulls up to the gate, and Yoongi turns the engine off, everyone begins filing out of the plane. You bid each passenger goodbye and wonder why you haven’t seen Jimin yet—after all, he was sitting in first-class. Eventually, you realize he’s the last person to leave and when he stands in front of you, he sticks his hand out.

Instinctively, though confused, you shake it and he leaves without another word. You watch him step off the plane and feel…sad? Although you barely know the man, you were definitely intrigued and wanted to see him again. When you move to grab your bags, you realize that there is a slip of paper in your hand. Wait; did Jimin put it there? Quickly opening the note, you read it and a wide smile stretches across your face.

He gave you his number.

***

After you say goodbye to Seokjin and Yoongi, you waste no time texting Jimin.

9:01 PM | You: hi…this is y/n

9:01 PM | Jimin: y/n. didn’t think you’d actually text back lol

You can’t help but laugh a little at his response. Why wouldn’t you text back? Right now, the only thing you can think about is him.

9:02 PM | You: of course. I want to see you again

You send your next text without even fully thinking it through. It was impulsive and a bit unlike you to be so frank, that was clearly Jimin’s forte, but what was there to lose? If Jimin hadn’t secretly given you his number, there would have been no way you’d see him again.

By the time you make it to your car, Jimin hasn’t said anything back. Doubt and worry fills you—was he tired of you already? Maybe you were bad at sex? No, then why would he have bothered with the number anyway? Your mind swirls through terrible scenarios before you receive another message

9:06 PM | Jimin: me too, doll. Meet me at my hotel?

9:06 PM | Jimin: I would’ve waited but my ride was already here waiting for me, and I didn’t know if you…

Your body pulsates at the thought of seeing him now. Earlier today, all you wanted was to go home; now, the idea of warming Jimin’s hotel bed seemed too tempting to pass up.

9:07 PM | You: okay

***

You pull up to the hotel that Jimin sent the address to and gawk at the posh exterior. There are a number of ritzy hotels in your city, and you figured Jimin would be staying at a nicer one, but it was still shocking to experience.

As your mouth stays parted, someone gently taps at your window. You jump a little and see a man standing there. Rolling down your window, you take in his uniform and are about to ask where you can park.

“I can valet park for you, ma’am,” he says, cutting you off. “You’re with Mr. Park, correct?”

Who is Mr. Park? Before you have a chance to answer, your phone vibrates with a text message. Looking down, you see that Jimin’s texted you.

9:30 PM | Jimin: let the valet take your car

“Umm, okay,” you tell the man and step out of the car. Walking around to grab your luggage from the back, you see that another man has already fetched it for you. Is this what it’s like to have money? You quickly thank them both and make your way inside of the hotel.

As you reach the front desk, the receptionist offers you a smile. “Mr. Park is in the Presidential Suite. It’s on the very top floor, ma’am.”

Your mouth drops again, and you wonder if maybe you had the wrong perception of Jimin. When he mentioned on the plane that he worked for a big business, you figured he was just a normal employee. Yeah, every business has its perks, so you figured that was just the case. However, maybe Jimin is higher up the business food chain than you thought. Also, how did she know you were the person Jimin was supposed to meet?

After thanking the receptionist, you walk in the direction of the elevators. Getting in one, you press the highest number on the elevator and begin to go up. Once you make it to the top floor, you walk out of the elevator and realize there is only one door. You laugh a little; guess there’s no way you can get lost then.

Standing in front of the door, you knock three times and wait for Jimin to answer. Within seconds, he does, and you realize he only has a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is damp, and you marvel at the droplets that cascade down his body. He laughs at your reaction and ushers you to come inside.

But the second you’re through the threshold, your luggage tips over as Jimin pushes you against a wall.

“Hey, doll,” his breath fans across your face.

“Hey, Mr. Park,” you smirk a little. “So, tell me, just how rich are you?”

Jimin chuckles and begins to pepper kisses along your face and jawline. “I was hoping you wouldn’t figure that out. Tends to make people want to stay, if you know what I mean.”

Grabbing his face into your hands, you tell him, “Jimin, I don’t care that you have money.”

His expression softens at your words.

“And how could I not figure that out when you’re staying in a fucking Presidential Suite?” you continue, pressing a kiss on his chin. “Kind of a dead giveaway.”

“Fuck my money,” he rolls his eyes. “I just want to properly bury my face in your pussy.”

Fire ignites in your core as Jimin pulls you away from the doorway and past the main area. You barely have time to admire the ceiling to floor glass windows or the modern layout of furniture because he drags you into the bedroom. Jimin throws himself onto his bed, and you don’t miss the way his towel barely clings to his body. “Strip for me.”

You are still in your flight attendant outfit; however, you oblige and begin peeling the same clothes Jimin tore off your body earlier. You delight in the way Jimin watches your every move. It’s like he can’t get enough of you. Once you slip out of your panties, fully exposed to him, he pulls you on top of his lap for a kiss.

On his lips, you can still taste the remnants of the red wine he had on the plane. But unlike the rushed kisses in the lavatory, Jimin kisses you passionately now. His tongue dances with your own, and he gently nips at your lips before pushing you onto your back.

Above you, he works a trail down your body; sucking your already hard nipples into his mouth. You let out a shuddering moan when he reaches the sensitive skin above your cunt. He licks the skin there, and then dives into your core.

“A-Ah!” your back arches at the feeling of Jimin’s tongue fucking you.

“Your pussy tastes so fucking sweet, baby girl,” he groans.

Jimin replaces his tongue with one finger, and you’re about to whine at the loss of his mouth when his mouth moves to your clit and doubles the sensation. “Fuck.”

“Just like that, baby,” he coos, inserting another finger. “Are you going to come for me?”

You helplessly nod at his ministrations. He continues to suck on your little nub, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. When he inserts a third finger inside your wetness, it sends you past the point of no return and you cry out your climax.

“Beautiful,” he hums, lapping up your release and you’ve never seen anything hotter. Sitting up, he watches you with a smug grin and starts pumping his hardening cock in front of you. “Get on your side.”

Although your legs already feel like jelly, you do as he says and lay on your side. Jimin moves behind you, and the feeling of your back pressed against his chest sends a shiver down your pack. Gently, Jimin lifts one of your legs over his and slides inside of you.

Just a few hours ago, he was inside of you, but the stretch still feels amazing now. His pace is slow, and he presses chaste kisses along your shoulder. After a few shallow thrusts, he hits you with a particularly hard one and you let out a low moan.

“What do you want me to do?” he whispers into your ear, arm reaching over to fondle your breasts.

“I want you to fuck me, Mr. Park.”

Jimin nips at your ear, “What was that, doll? Couldn’t hear you.”

You repeat you statement louder, and he lets out a satisfied grunt. Jimin’s hips pick up their pace and the forearm holding you up falls at the force of his thrusts. The lewd noises coming out of your mouth are loud and brazen, but the dirty sweet nothings that left Jimin’s lips are enough to make you orgasm a second time—well, fourth if you count the two from earlier today.

“Ohmygod, Jimin.”

“Yes, fuck, doll—you feel so fucking good on my cock.” Clutching the bedsheets through your high, Jimin breathes heavily behind you, “Fuck. Where do you want me to cum, baby girl?”

Even though you just came, you still can’t help the moans that leave your mouth. “Anywhere. I-I don’t c-care.”

“Can I come inside of you?”

The thought of Jimin filling you up with his cum is so fucking hot, you nod and feel him explode inside of you. He leans against your shoulder as he coats your inner walls. When he finally pulls out, you fall back onto your elbows and examine the mess he made.

“Has anyone ever told you that your pussy is a wonderland?” Jimin asks, walking towards you with a wet cloth. You’re about to take it from him to clean yourself, but he ends up doing it for you.

You blush at the action. “Uh…I don’t think so.”

“Well, it is,” he meets your gaze. You feel yourself blush even harder.

Jimin discards the wet cloth and you realize this is the awkward part. At least on the plane, you could just go back to your seat. Here, what are you supposed to do? Getting up from the bed, you slip your panties back on and cringe at how wet they are.

“Where are you going?”

You stop in your tracks. “Leaving?”

Jimin pulls back the covers of the bed and slips inside, beckoning you. “Stay.”

“Don’t you have that huge meeting early tomorrow?”

“So?” he asks, and you slip into bed right beside him—sans clothing. “Besides, I want to fuck you again.”

You roll your eyes as he pulls you closer, “Isn’t twice enough?”

“I think I might be addicted,” he admits, which makes your heart stutter.

You’re about to tell him the same, but you yawn instead. Suddenly, you remember that you’ve been up since four this morning and that you’ve been running on god knows how many shots of espresso.

“Tired?” Jimin takes the words right out of your mouth.

Nodding, you mutter unintelligently. You probably should shower and brush your teeth, but you honestly can’t be bothered since Jimin feels so good beside you. His body is warm and comfortable; before you can say another word to him, you’re already drifting into dreamland.

As you sleep tangled in his arms, Jimin grazes his fingers over your face and thinks about how beautiful you look even like this. He wasn’t lying when he said he might be addicted to you. He only met you today and already had you twice, but the desire to have more of you is insatiable.

You are definitely going to be his ruin.

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