#if anyone else has any prompt requests from a list or their own brains send them my way!

[allylikethecat]

Just read your reply to an ask about a fix of matty singing them to sleep and the suggestion/idea of fictional Matty singing fictional George or vice versa to sleep has me wanting to eat my hand and sob (in a good way) 😭

The best way to deal with your self imposed stress of not finishing a fic by your self dictated deadline is obviously to work on a different one 😂 I felt really bad that I wasn't able to fill that one prompt request for that anon looking for a matty x reader blurb where he sung the reader to sleep (I don't see myself ever writing x reader fic i'm sorry!! there are so many wonderful talented people who do though! that's just not my writing niche unfortunately) ... but like was totally down to write one of him singing fictional!George to sleep, and then I saw that YOU lovely anon had sent this in in response to that ask, so obviously I had to jump it to the top of my massive list of prompt fill requests that I really do promise I will finish in 2024 lol

So, alas, here it is, Fictional!Matty sining Fictional!George to sleep. I hope you like it, if not let me know and I will attempt a take two! Thank you so much for sending this in though, and for reading, and being so lovely and supportive! I hope you have a very happy new year and a great rest of your week!

❤️Ally

Singing to sleep

George was sick, and George never got sick. Matty was at his wits end, he was the one with the shit immune system. He was the one who didn’t take care of himself and allowed his body to get run down, seeming to constantly be coming down with a perpetual case of the sniffles. George did yoga. George remembered to eat, and drank water, and got the recommended eight hours of sleep each night. He wasn’t supposed to be congested and running a fever, a trail of used tissues laid out like bread crumbs as if he would lose his way back to the bedroom without them. 

George wasn’t supposed to be arguing with Matty that he wasn’t sick when he clearly was. Shaking his head, his voice rough and nasally, insisting that he was fine even as he had to halt his argument every few minutes to cough. George was not supposed to be sick, and with a sinking realization, Matty was learning that George was an even worse patient than he was. 

“Please,” Matty begged, he knew he looked ridiculous wearing the frilly apron his Mum had gotten him as a joke when they had bought the new house and Matty had shown her the high end kitchen as if he was going to actually use it. The joke was on her, he was wearing the apron and currently trying to use the kitchen. “Please just go lay back down.” 

“I’m fine,” George rasped again before breaking off into another coughing fit, his arms wrapped around himself as he shivered. Matty glanced at the clock on the stove, it was still too soon for him to take another dose of paracetamol. 

“You are not fine!” Matty snapped, turning away from the stove and the soup that he hoped was simmering and not boiling, he wasn’t entirely sure of the difference. He waved his wooden spoon at George for dramatic effect. “You need to go lay down and get some fucking rest so you can get better!” 

George opened his mouth and Matty waved the spoon more aggressively, flicking his wrist at George. “No, no arguments, upstairs, now please, let’s go.” Matty said, nudging George’s shoulder so that he could guide him towards the staircase. 

George sighed, breaking off into another coughing fit, his shoulders shaking before doing as Matty said. He padded barefoot towards the stairs, Matty hot on his heels to make sure he actually got into bed instead of trying to snag his work laptop out of the office. The soup would be okay for a few minutes without him, Matty thought as they climbed the stairs. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to be watching for anyway, or what he was even supposed to do if it did do something. 

Realizing he was still holding the spoon, Matty sheepishly sat it down on the dresser, brushing past George to fluff up his pillows and blankets.

“Get in the bed,” he said, holding his arms out as if he was a briefcase girl on a game show.  

“You trying to take advantage of me?” George rasped, batting his eyelashes teasingly, the effect was lost though by the glassy sheen of his eyes and his dry red nose. 

“Always,” Matty deadpanned and George sighed, climbing back into bed and allowing Matty to rearrange the blankets around him while he pouted like a child.

“Now get some rest,” Matty said, leaning down one last time to press a kiss to George’s forehead, frowning when he realized just how hot it was. He turned away, planning on heading into the bathroom to get George a damp wash rag to try and cool him down some before returning to his soup when George caught his wrist. 

“Wait,” said George looking up at Matty, looking extra pathetic with his pale skin, red nose and shiny eyes. 

“I’ll be right back,” Matty assured him, his heart squeezing. “I’m just going to get you a cold rag.” 

“I’m fine,” George said again, his voice convincing absolutely no one. “But will you,” George flushed, and Matty wasn’t sure if it was from fever or embarrassment. George swallowed hard, his sore throat bobbing painfully. “Will you sing to me?”

Matty blinked, in confusion, not expecting the request. “What?” he asked dumbly and George’s blush deepened, embarrassment it is then, Matty thought fondly, his heart flipping at the request. 

“Will you sing me something?” George asked again, his eyes wide and earnest. “Please.” 

Matty exhaled slowly, he wanted to get George a cold wash rag for his forehead, and he needed to go check on his soup. But who was he to refuse George a song when he was poorly. 

“Yeah,” said Matty softly, feeling like his insides had turned to goo with just how much he loved George. “Yeah, I can sing you something.” 

His Gibson Hummingbird was leaning against a decorative chair where he had left it two days prior, and he winced, knowing he should have put it away properly but thankful for his laziness as he scooped it up, feeling silly as he quickly tuned it and sat down on the edge of the bed. 

He played the opening chord and George smiled, instantly recognizing the song. 

Tell me what you thought about

When you were gone and so alone

The worst is over

You can have the best of me

We got older but we're still young

We never grew out of this feeling that we won't give up

George was asleep, snoring softly, before Matty even finished the song. 

#allylikethecat #ask ally #anon ask #fanfiction #keep it kind #matty fic #gatty #prompt fill #prompt fills #OG requests #if anyone else has any prompt requests from a list or their own brains send them my way! #also i am still working on the sick fic prompts dont worry #they're just ending up a little longer and will probably end up on AO3

[reidyoulikeabook]

hi i saw that your requests are open for the night for that list and i feel like 15&35 with spencer might be all i need to survive

anyways i’m on anon bc i’m scared you’ll hate this request but just know your writing is my favorite i would read your grocery lists at this point

excuse me i love this request please do not disparage yourself ever again <3 that’s the loveliest thing anybody has ever said to me and i will now think of you and this compliment whenever i write a grocery list

Ship: GN! (wears a bra, no mention of gender other than this) Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical case things, pining, mild thievery.

Word count: 2.4k

Prompts: #15 - "You’ve just won one free pass to my bedroom.”

#35 - “Well fuck, didn’t expect to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning.”

A/N: This got so ungodly long I’m so sorry I don’t even know if I can call this a blurb at this point it’s a full fic but I loved this idea so much and it ran away from me.

PLEASE let me know what you think because I bashed this out in the span of an hour and I’m not sure if I love or hate it.

--

Rossi’s spitballing theories behind you. Your head lolls on the desk, feeling far too heavy to attempt lifting up at this time of night. The case was hard, you were sleeping in shifts, and somehow you, Rossi, and Reid had drawn the short straw. Your eyes are blearing a little too much to make out the exact time on the clock, it’s on the opposite side of the room and your eyes burn when you squint to look at the time; you’re fairly certain you’re somewhere on the wrong side of 3am.

23 hours awake.

Sighing, you push yourself up, looking around and only now noting that Spencer isn’t in the room. He must have made his exit while you were flicking through the files making notes, it was often easier to do that with your headphones in.

Thankfully, you'd set up shop in a conference room at the hotel, given the local PD was tiny and barely equipped to handle its own officers.

“What about the meat packing district?” Rossi muses.

It’s a rhetorical question but one you actually have an answer to, “I don’t think so. The busiest part of the city is between the meat packing district and where he’s dumping the bodies. Cops do random stop-and-searches sometimes, I don’t know if he’d risk it.”

“He could drive around.”

You frown, thinking, “He’d be crossing state lines. Hey, wait,” You stand up from your chair, walking to the board and starting drawing circles that illustrate your point, “Spencer thought there must be a pattern, right? But it died off here and we didn’t know about any more victims. If we expanded the search to outside of state lines it might connect here, here, and here,” You circle each here with a point, tapping the pen against the board triumphantly.

Rossi smiles, “Good thinking kid. I’ll call Garcia.”

Exhausted from your breakthrough, you flop back down into the chair. The clothes you’ve been wearing are icky, uncomfortable with sweat and flying and you’re strongly regretting your choice in underwear now too.

You hear the door swing open, looking up to see Spencer entering the room. Holding your go-bag. The one you’d left on the jet this morning. The jet that was a two hour drive from your current location.

“Where did you? When did you?” Your incoherency is related to both your tiredness, and his thoughtfulness.

He smiles, “It took some calling around but I found a cab driver willing to go and pick it up. It just got here.”

“Spencer I-,” You start, scrambling to your feet to accept the bag he’s offering to you, “Thank you. That’s so sweet of you. How much was the cab?”

“Don’t worry about it,” He says, handing it to you and heading over to the board, “What are these?”

Rossi - who was watching the exchange with some amusement - starts explaining the eureka moment you’d had. Spencer nods along, turning to smile at you when Rossi credits the thought to you. It’s something he does a lot, Rossi’s noticed. Not in a condescending way, Spencer knows more than anyone just how capable you are at your job. It’s as if he needs to channel his love for you somewhere, and chooses pride. It’s the easiest one to explain, after all, because who isn’t happy for their colleague making breakthroughs?

That’s how Spencer justifies it anyhow.

You leave the room, heading to the bathroom to change. You’re incredibly grateful to slip out of your dirty clothes and the bra that’s cutting into you, so much so that you decide to pop on a t-shirt under your blazer. The sports bra and t-shirt combo revitalises you more than you thought possible for this hour.

Digging through, you find an item that you didn’t pack. A pair of brown fluffy slippers. Attached to them, a note, ‘I thought the heels on your boots looked uncomfortable, and I didn’t want your feet to hurt. - Spencer.

He signed the note. Something about that, alongside the gift itself, sends a flush of warmth through you.

He gave you his slippers

So?

Is that something friends do?

Wracking your brain, you try to think up if he’d do this for anyone else. Hotch? The thought makes you laugh. Emily? Maybe, actually. If she didn’t make it so hard for others to take care of her. Penelope? Almost definitely.

Your heart sinks a little, and you distract yourself by fumbling to get your work boots off and the slippers on.

It doesn’t matter it isn’t romantic, it matters that he did it.

It matters to every other person you date

He sets an impossibly high bar

Thankfully, the late hour means that there aren’t many local PD still hanging around to see your interesting choice of shoe. You slip through to the conference room, where Spencer and Rossi are huddled over the phone talking to Garcia.

Spencer does a double-take. He knew the gift he’d given you, but he hadn’t expected to see you...wearing them? You look beautiful: hair mussed from fiddling with it, an old college t-shirt under your blazer, brown fluffy slippers on your feet. The mix of professional and homely attire does something to him that he can’t quite explain, and he has to clear his throat before making his next point to Garcia.

Did he just blush?

You try not to stare at him, try not to see if that’s a tinge of red creeping up under his turtleneck.

It is.

“Thanks Garcia,” Rossi clips, hanging up the phone, “I’m going to go and find some coffee. You two,” He points, looking knowingly between you, “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

No sooner has Rossi left the room, you both try speaking at once.

“You look-” He starts.

“Thank you so-” You start.

You both tinge with warmth.

“You go first,” He says, gnawing at his plump lower lip, finger turning oer the pen in his hand.

You laugh, a little breathless, “Well fuck, I wasn’t expecting to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning.”

His eyebrows quirk, is that...hope?

No. Wishful thinking

It’s probably confusion, and you’re a little embarassed, so you quickly clarify, “I mean Spencer Reid this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. I’m endebted to you forever, really.”

A look washes over him: disappointment? You can’t trust your eyes to see the clock, so you feel you can’t entrust them to analyse his micro-expressions right now either. Especially when you’re biased by personal desire.

“It’s no problem,” He says, voice cracking a little, “You look...” He trails off.

“Unprofessional?” You suggest, teasing.

He shakes his head, swallowing, “You look really nice.”

It’s your turn to swallow. You drop your gaze to the pen, feeling too flustered to continue looking your colleague in the eyes at this moment in time, “Thank you. Where did you get slippers at this time of night?”

He shifts, one hand settling over the wrist of the other and fingers nervously rubbing over the back of his hand, “They were uhm. They were mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah,” It comes out pitchy, a squeak, “I’m sorry, that’s probably weird I just thought-”

“No, Spence,” You say, looking up at him and giving him a genuine smile, “No, it’s really sweet. I’m really lucky to have you.”

He gives his signature tiny tight-lipped smile, the one he gives when he’s feeling awkward or suppressing something he wants to say but can’t.

Please let it be the latter.

You relinquish him of the obligation of responding, instead standing to join him at the board, “You think you’ve got enough to make a geographical profile out of this?”

He nods, tapping the board with his pen, “Your idea about crossing interstate lines was really smart.”

“I have my moments.”

He wants to tell you that everything you have is a moment. You want to step closer, to cup his face in your hands, to press a kiss to the lips that you swear are pouting, begging to be kissed. You don’t.

Namely, because Rossi chooses this moment to re-enter the room, clutching three cups of coffee, “A little help here?”

From the way you spring apart, despite not even being that close, he wishes he’d taken a little longer. Damn kids and their inability to express their feelings for one another.

***

It’s 4:30am when the alarm on your phone goes off. With the work of the four of you - Garcia sporadically included when she had genius updates - you’ve managed to uncover a pattern that arches across states. You’d called Hotch, who’d commended the good work and advised that you should head to bed at 4:30. The others would get up then, and start to head out to the different potential crime scenes. Local PD was already on it.

You’d been told under no uncertain terms that you were to rest until at least 10am. Unless there was a call from Hotch. You prayed there wouldn’t be.

Rossi’s off the minute the alarm rings, bustling out the door with a “See you later kids.”

You wait behind while Spencer packs his things into his satchel. Or rather, unpacks his things from his satchel, frantically tearing it apart.

“What are you looking for?” You ask.

“My key card,” He murmurs, “I swear it was in my wallet.”

“You were rooming with Morgan, right? Want me to call him?”

“Yes please,” He says, continuing to unearth the contents of his bag onto the desk, with an increasing degree of agitation every second that goes by.

You dial Morgan’s number, and he answers after two rings, “Hey kid.”

You put the phone on loudspeaker.

“Hey. I’m with Spencer, we’re about to head up to our rooms for the night, are you still here? He can’t find his keycard.”

He lets out a breath of air through his teeth, “Sorry, I’m already on my way to one of the crime scenes. Local PD found a body over the state line. Nobody’s at the hotel but you guys and Rossi.”

Spencer outwardly sighs.

“No problem, we’ll figure something out.”

“Alright, good work kid, get some rest.”

The phone line clicks. Spencer’s brow is pinched with frustration, and your heart breaks for him. You’ve all been awake well over 24 hours, and he looks exhausted. He’s more eyebag than man at this point.

“Do you want me to go to the front desk?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “Reception doesn’t open until 6am. I’ll just wait here until then.”

He starts packing the belongings back into his bag, a resigned look on his face. And you have an idea.

“Actually,” You say, pulling the keycard out of your pocket and sliding it across the table to him, “You’ve just won one free pass to my bedroom.”

He picks the card up, squinting in confusion.

“Me and Rossi both got put in single rooms. I mean, it might not be the most comfortable thing in the world, both of us in a single bed, but it’s better than nothing right?”

He opens his mouth to object, and you shake your head.

“Spence you look like you’re about to drop unconscious on the floor and I don’t want to be responsible for yet another injureid.”

You’re so tired that the pun seems hilarious to you, and it does elicit a small laugh from him.

“Come on, it’s either share a bed with me, share a bed with Rossi, or try to sleep in one of these chairs. And I’ll be honest, I’d be kind of offended if you’d rather either of the other two options.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” He says, obviously warming up to the offer but not wanting to push his luck. You can hear the hesitancy in his voice.

“You can. But you won’t,” You tell him, settling your go-bag on your shoulder, “And might I remind you that all this time you’re spending objecting are minutes we could be spending sleeping.”

That seems to win him over. He tucks everything back into his bag, zipping it up, “After you.”

“You have the keycard,” You smile, “After you.”

***

The bed is a single bed. It prompts another round of ‘No really, I can sleep on the floor’ from Spencer, your enquiries about if it’s too much for his germaphobia or issues with touching, and his blushy embarassed reassurance that he doesn’t mind if it’s you.

He doesn’t mind if it’s you.

Not as if you’ll spend the next year mulling over those words or anything.

When you get out of the bathroom from changing, Spencer is tucked up in bed. Well, you say tucked up, but he’s practically lay right on the edge. How he’s actually physically still being supported by the mattress at this point must be his physics magic.

“I thought I said I didn’t want you getting injured,” You say, crossing the room to him.

He opens his eyes, “I didn’t want to-”

“It’s okay Spence,” You tell him, huddling down into bed.

There’s about enough room for you both to fit in, with an inch between you, so you pull gently at his arms, urging him closer.

“There’s enough room for us both without you going flying in the night,” You tell him.

He nods, obviously still a little nervous. It’s odd, lying face to face with him, illuminated only by lamplight. He looks soft. He always does, but there’s something intimate about this. You can feel his breath fan across your cheek, can feel how heat radiates off his arms.

“Do you want me to turn the lamp off?” He asks.

It’s not your staring that implores him to ask, because he’s been staring at you too. The both of you, trapped in a perfect bubble of a moment. Lamplight a spotlight, highlighting all the features of the person you love most.

“Sure,” You whisper, breath catching in your throat.

He flicks it off, settling back down.

His breath brushes against your face when he asks, “Do you want me to turn around?”

“Do you want to?”

He hesitates for a moment, voice even softer when he answers, “No.”

It’s dark. You can hardly make out his outline. Yet somehow, you both just know. Shifting, infitismally closer. Breaching the tiniest gap between you somehow feels like crossing the Grand Canyon. Your heart thumps in your chest, and you can feel it in your fingers, the fingers that trace cautiously along his jaw.

His mouth finally, finally, slotting against yours in the most gentle of kisses. A blink and you’d miss it.

And yet, in the same blink, your life changes forever.

When Rossi makes a speech at your wedding, he admits to being the thief of the missing keycard, and intentional orchestrator of the greatest love story he’s ever known. His words.

---

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fluff #can't believe queue've done this

[thefanbasewhore]

“Are you drunk?”

Summary: [Number 50 from the prompt list: “Are you drunk?” “Not nearly enough.”] Contains season 2 spoilers. Din is having a hard time letting go of Grogu but reader is always there to help him. Din realizes just how much he needs a hug.

Warning/Content: Alcohol consumption, fluff, angst, drunk Din. Din is uncharacteristic and soft in this. Unestablished relationship but there are feelings there.

It’s been days since the child had been returned to the Jedi and Din has been gone for close to the same amount of time. While he vowed he’d be back, that he would never be able to part with you as well.. it was doubtful, every minute felt like an hour, with no communication it’s amazing you lasted this long already. It’s hard to blame the man for wanting to be alone, the first person he’s cared about in years is gone, and it weighs heavy but then again before you and Grogu all he knew was the lingering silence that came with it, so being alone wasn’t that bad.

Just the way he walked that day was different, feet move heavily not steady and silent, the helmet never goes back on, he feels restricted enough, Boba’s ship was filled with a silence that made everyone tense, no one dared speak. 

It hurts though, the Mandalorian has always been at your finger tips, so close but so far. It’s back and forth, while he would love nothing more then to admit he can’t live without you. Grogu has always been the first priority, there was never time to fully act on such feelings. There were shaky moments of meaningful touches, almost kisses but something seemed to always get in the way and now it seemed like your biggest regret. Fearing the worst that something had happened, you’d never feel those lips against your own or worse..

Your eyes never seem to leave the beskar staff as it still leans against the unused chair of the kitchen table… He wouldn’t leave it right? Like forever and leave you here without a word? 

His blaster which was thrown almost as simultaneously as he walked through the door mumbling he would be back still in the same spot. That was almost three days ago and now you felt your lip quiver, seriously doubting his return. But then again the Mandalorian has no promise to you, while he had admitted the harboring admiration he holds, it was never talked about, it’s too touchy, there’s always more important things to do. The Mandalorian didn’t do feelings, actually avoided them at all costs. 

The planet Boba had brought you to per Din’s request is peaceful, it’s beautiful and filled with deep forest and clear waters but it’s loud, parties parade the streets every night, drinking, laughing, bright lights that make it almost impossible to sleep as they move to the beat of the music. It’s the total opposite of what Din is, he’s quiet, calculating, hates big crowds but maybe it’s the change he was looking for, somewhere in all this chaos would hold the answers to all his questions. Somehow he felt safe enough here to keep you in the Inn by yourself for days, leaving more than enough credits for food and pretty much anything your heart would desire.

During the first day of his disappearance you decided to go shopping, there’s a small marketplace during the day when the town is peaceful, so lovely it’s almost impossible to believe that it turns into one giant rave at night. The beautiful satin dresses that lined with varies of shapes and lines, and bright strange colors that match the planet so well.

You’re wearing one now, it’s a little uncharacteristic of you. Not typically a fan of them mostly because they’re not very practical when it comes from hiding a baby from the empire especially with all the running and blaster fights but this one fits well. It’s dips into your chest, the tops of breast swells pressed against the tight fabric, thin straps across your collar bones reveal the smooth, sun-kissed skin (the beautiful land irritates your skin just a little but it’s a good sting), it shapes your curves in all the right ways, the dress ends mid thigh but the right leg has a small slit that just goes a little more further giving the illusion of beautiful, endless legs. Truthfully, you probably were never going to wear it but found yourself running out of clothes, everything you ever owned was destroyed along with the crest. 

The ending of the dress is nice though, just enough fabric for your fingers to reach and fiddle nervously while you try and read the pages of the book in front of you but you just can’t seem to concentrate, looking from words to the door with hopes today will be the day he finally makes his return. The chair is uncomfortable, unforgiving as it digs into the center of your back but it gives the perfect sight of the door, you can’t find it in your heart to move.. just in case. 

It seems as if the Maker himself has heard you as the clicking of the door lock makes you stiffen, fingers tightening around the binding of the book as you hear pounds inside your ears. The Mandalorian stumbles through the door way, movements slow and shaky as his fingers yank the helmet from his head to release his untamed, greasy hair, eye blotched with dark circles clearly exhausted but it’s the lost look as he looks at the floor confused as he really, really concentrates on walking straight, one foot in front of the other flat hands reach out to steady himself but still manages to still trip but then there’s a giggle, a small, joyful sound that makes your jaw almost drop. Never in all the months spend in the closed, tight quarters have you heard that sound.

“Are you drunk?” The words leave your lips immediately, shock written all over your features. While you never heard a giggle, there were moments close to it but never, ever did you think the Mandalorian would drink… It’s normal for anyone else but him. The small divests that form at the end of his smile, sinking in his cheeks makes it hard to breath, so handsome and he doesn’t even know it.

“Not nearly enough.” The dimpled smile points towards the floor trying to concentrate on his next step as you can’t help but think how he managed to come back to you like this. He’s distracted, hasn’t even had a few extra moments to steal a glance in your direction but when he does he almost doesn’t notice at first, looking back down but his head almost snaps back at you, eyes soften almost immediately.

He stands only a few feet away now, not hiding the way eyes shift from the softness of your thighs, up the fabric that just fits so nicely against unrevealed skin as the skirt of the dress hikes higher and higher up soft skin until it reaches the perkiness of breasts. The imagine alone is now going to be forever stained to his brain, mouth drying as you blush under his lingering gaze. “Mesh'la.”

Even through his own drunk haze he can see the confusion against the soft curve of your face as fingers reach out to your flexed knee, limp against the chair as fingers grasp it. His fingers tingle with the feeling of the smooth skin up until they reach to cup the outside of your thigh right where the dress ends, fiddling the silk of the fabric with gentle tugs.  The messy curls are now inches from your face, swollen lips from being wrapped around the rim of an open bottle for days, you try to hide the way the close proximity makes your nose wrinkle from smell of booze. Eyes lower as you mutter, “Are you alright Din?”

He chooses to ignore the words only now sinking to his knees in front of you, using his body weight to spread legs for he can fit inside them, rest his head against your lap, unsure eyes meet your own, nerves coat his throat. Lips move under your knee, a small kiss that makes your chest stop momentarily breathing, he’s never done that before.. kiss you. “It means beautiful.. I love this dress, you look pretty.”

It catches you off guard, freezes any movements except rubbing his chin against the fat of your inner thigh. It’s not sexual, anything but he’s looking for comfort,  seeking it in the warmth of your skin that molds so perfectly against his own. “Pretty girl, you always look so, so  pretty.”

The words send your skin into an absolute fit of heat but you don’t get much time to think about it before he’s turning from you, still between the warmth of your legs but now his back touches the chair as fingers nimbly pull at the chest plate of beskar letting it fall to the ground with a clatter but he doesn’t seem to care to much as he’s pulling at the laces of his boots but failing with an audible groan of annoyance. “Do you need help Din?”

“Yes pretty girl.” The nickname sticks, makes it almost impossible to meet his eyes due to the shyness that hazes over you. Standing up to move sends him back into the chair with small thump but grumbles as he sits up to watch you sit in front of him, pulling the string of the laces loosely. Skin feels hot under his gaze, never leaving the soft curve of your nose, frustration that wrinkles your forehead, the corner of his lips turning expanding across his cheeks at how cute you are?

Even though It’s been almost a week since he’s broke the creed and a long ride to take in the hard brown eyes, the cute bump on the bridge of his nose that slightly wrinkles when he smiles, like the one that touches his cheeks now. “You need to sober up Din.” 

“Mmmmmm.” He presses a finger against his temple like his brain is working extra hard to think as a goofy grin meets your gaze. “No.”

You can’t help but feel the small grin tug at your lips, eyes peering up to meet his. It hangs in the air, the lingering unspoken situation that has your own chest feeling heavy, the only reason he’s so intoxicated. Yours is heavy but his feels absolutely crushing, makes it hard to breath, to feel anything but deep numbing pain that makes his lips quiver, eyes welt with tears. Emotions were..difficult for Din, almost every day was a fighting battle to keep them at fingertips length but the quiet moments in between soft glances from you throughout the whole ride to this planet filled the gaps, snapping something inside him, suddenly he felt everything.

The loss of his son had hit him like a ton of bricks but only opened how he felt for you, it all hit him so suddenly he could barely breath, think straight, he had to get away to clear his head but his heart just hurt too much. 

“You know you can talk to me? I’m always here for you.” The words stop him for a second as he takes in the sights of you, pulling at his boots to free his aching feet. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to remember the pain the alcohol numbs, he just wanted you. Despite how much his finger twitch to touch your cheeks, pull you close against his body he’s confused, frustrated maybe? 

It makes him embarrassed, cheeks tingle pink at the thought of touching you but his hands were stained red it would taint your innocence to press them to the soft skin of your collarbones, run them over the smooth bony prominence, touch your cheeks no matter how much he wanted to. 

Sighing you lean forward, closer to his face at his silence. The internal fight is not hidden from his features, his brows creasing with thought, lip tucking into his bottom lip while unsure eyes meet his trembling hands. It’s instant, not giving yourself a second to think about it as you lean over, warmth spreads throughout his whole body as you sit on his lap, arms wrapping around his trunk until they lace together against his back, forehead resting against his neck with a sigh. “I’m here Din.”

With those three words he feels his eyes sting, chest moving faster and faster as nerves pinch his face but there’s a sudden warmth that fills his chest, makes his heart thump extra loud against ears. The crushing feeling temporarily lifted as finds himself leaning closer and closer to you until his cheek presses against your hair. Long arms closing any distance between the pair, trapping you between strong arms. It’s a soft cry one that makes you want look up to tell him everything is going to be okay but decide it’s probably best to press a small kiss against the thick tunic, right over his heart. Din Djarin has never hugged another person since he was a child but with you, all his problems seems to disappear, your smell calming nerves, your hair against his face reminding him that you’ve always been here, will never leave no matter how hard he tries to push you away. Din never realized how much he missed hugs until now. 

Soft tears drip off pink cheeks, forming in the small dips of where your clavicle and shoulder meet, the chest underneath you stutters and heaves but you can’t miss the words as they move so freely past his lips. “I haven’t hugged someone since I was a child, I’m glad it’s you pretty girl. Thank you..”

Tag list: (on my masterlist as pinned post if you would like to join) @victias​@altarsw, @coonflix​ @mudhornchronicles​ @buckysalefty​ @capsheadquarters @godohammers​ @ilikemymendarkandfictional​ @rogertaylorsfalsetogivesmehives @maileecabudol​ @fangirlmendes @mermaidbrina​ @nikkixostan​ @moonlightnumbsthepainifeel

#din djarin #din dijarin x reader #din djarin fan fiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #the mandolorian imagine #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian

[despairingly-hopeful-imagines]

hey! might be weirdly specific but could i get kazuichi and a reader he has a crush on in the killing game together, and one night the reader asks to spend the night in his cottage because she's feeling really anxious?

i knOW I SAID I WOULDN’T WRITE FOR KAZUICHI BUT LIKE. i saw this request in our inbox and my brain went haywire. kazuichi is now off of my hit list.... for now.

*rolls up sleeves* this is my first writing post on this blog, so i certainly hope you enjoy, my dear, and don’t be too worried about being specific! narrowing down prompts like that helps a lot!

spoilers for sdr2 up ahead uwu ‎‎

— mod sakura.

‎‎ When Kazuichi first laid eyes on you when you entered the classroom, he swore with all his heart that he has seen you before. It was a weird feeling of déjà vu that he couldn’t quite place his finger on no matter how hard he tried (and boy did he try), and it wasn’t until you approached him to politely ask him to stop staring at you that he realized he had been looking a little too long at you.

“S-Sorry,” he had stammered, face aflame as he scratched the back of his neck, but you had only chuckled, brushing it off.

“It’s okay. I always seem to have that effect on people.” You had replied earnestly with a swat of your hand.

Kazuichi had raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

The corners of your eyes crinkled when you smiled as you gave your reply. “For some odd reason, people seem to think I’m some sort of otherworldly alien, so they stare a lot. But I promise you that I’m perfectly ordinary.”

But Kazuichi didn’t seem to believe that you were as ordinary as you said you were (Ultimate students weren’t ordinary to begin with, and you fell under that umbrella), especially in the days that followed your introduction. You two would hang out and talk more, and every time Kazuichi looked into your eyes, he would be met with something familiar yet so obscure, which only added onto your oddness. You had stopped reprimanding him for staring for too long, as by now it felt relatively normal.

Then the first murder happened.

While you had not been too much of a fan of Byakuya’s attitude, you did appreciate the effort he put through to protect every one of you, even if it eventually led to his downfall. When the lights came back on and Byakuya was deemed missing, you immediately grew paranoid. It was just the day before when Monokuma appeared and decided that you all would be killing each other, and every minute that passed since then only caused your worry to grow and grow. Had somebody killed Byakuya?! You immediately thought the worst, and it was confirmed when Akane sniffed out blood coming from under one of the cabin’s tables. Hajime had lifted the tablecloth and... You nearly gagged. Byakuya’s body was laying there in a puddle of his own blood.

You refused to look in the body’s direction; You had never been good at handling death properly, and you felt lightheaded, your vision swaying somewhat. You placed your hand on the wall and took a deep breath.

“Th-This... It’s impossible...!” You heard Kazuichi say, panic obvious in his tone of voice. “Don’t mess with me! This must be some sort of mistake!”

You blinked slowly, inhaling and exhaling deeply once again.

Someone called your name and you tilted your head to the side. It was Sonia, and she was giving you a concerned look. She repeated your name again, followed by a, “Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?”

When she spoke, Kazuichi’s head immediately turned in your direction. “What?!” Disregarding the body for the moment, Kazuichi made his way towards you and placed a hand on your arm (albeit hesitantly. He didn’t want to make things worse for you.). He said your name in a frenzied fashion, “Are you okay?! You’re pale as hell!” You looked him right in eyes, lips parting, and then your legs gave out beneath you. Kazuichi was quick to catch you before you hit the ground and, while this wasn’t exactly the right time for it, blushed fervently at your close proximity. His heart was beating so fast, and he panicked at what he should be doing.

His head raised and he looked around. Isn’t Mikan the Ultimate Nurse? He thought to himself as he eyed his classmate. “M-Mikan!” He shouted, catching the female’s attention. “Can you come over here?”

Mikan nervously made her way over, hands fidgeting. “Y-Yes...?”

It was like she didn’t even see you just lying there in his arms! He mentioned your name and looked down at you, adjusting his position. “You’re the Ultimate Nurse, right? Help her, please! She just dropped!” He moved your body so that Mikan could examine you. The mechanic’s arms shook as she placed the back of her hand against your forehead, and after a few moments, she pulled away.

“U-Um, there’s nothing to be worried about...! She’s... She’s just f-fainted, most likely from seeing B-Byakuya’s body...” The girl glanced at Kazuichi’s face and quickly added, “It’s n-nothing serious I swear! I’m s-sorry for not doing enough...!”

“H-Hey, hey! There’s no reason to be like that.” Kazuichi huffed, but he was relieved to see that you were alright. There was no telling when you’d wake up, so for now, he would wait.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎

You had been forcibly woken up before the trial by Monokuma, but the trial itself  was a blur for you. You really didn’t know much about the entire situation— aside from the fact that... That someone had... died... —, unlike Hajime, so you couldn’t really contribute, which was fine with you. The fact that you fainted ruled out any possibility of you committing the murder, because if you could barely handle viewing the body, then how could you have done it in the first place?

You felt uneasy throughout the entirety of the trial. Your podium area was situated to Akane’s left, and you gripped the wood of the stand so hard that your knuckles turned white. You caught Kazuichi sending you several concerned glances from across the circle, but they were ignored. Nagito’s spiel about hope and whatnot did nothing to calm your nerves, and after Teruteru was executed, you left Monokuma Rock feeling jittery and lightheaded.

Kazuichi was right beside you the entire elevator ride up, and he was here with you now even though everybody was already heading back to their respective cabins. He was comforting; You had never thought that you would be able to warm up to a stranger so easily, but you had, and you didn’t regret it in the slightest. He was just what you needed in this time of despair.

“Let’s head back.” You said once you were fully collected. Kazuichi still looked worried, though.

“A-Are you sure you’re alright?” He questioned before quickly continuing. “Can you walk alright? Do you need me to carry you?” His hands were shaking, but you didn’t know if it was because of leftover nerves from what had just transpired or from excitement towards the prospect of carrying you.

“I think I’ll be okay.” Physically, but not emotionally or mentally, that’s for sure. You patted the pink-haired boy on the shoulder and smiled at him, which in turn caused his face to erupt into rosy hues. “But thank you for offering.”

“Of course! Anything... Anything for you.”

You’re smile softened a little, and you only nodded, not quite knowing how to respond to a statement like that. You started moving forward and gestured for the lanky male to follow you.

However, each and every step towards the miniature resort only increased the feelings of dread that were harboring in your stomach. A murder had happened nearly a day after Monokuma appeared, so how would you know when the next one was going to happen? You didn’t think Teruteru would kill anyone, nor did you even consider the possibility of Nagito committing a murder (But now that seemed entirely possible, given his psychotic awakening that occurred not too long ago), but the trial you just returned from only proved you wrong. It didn’t matter how nice or how cruel someone was because they still were capable of ending another’s life.

You glanced at Kazuichi out of the corner of your eye as the two of you crossed the bridge that connected the two islands together. What if... You thought nervously. What if Kazuichi’s planning to kill me? Your hands shook at your sides. No, he couldn’t possibly be planning to murder you. You two had become friends before the Killing Game ensued, and Kazuichi was always upfront and honest with you, so you figured that he was bad at lying. If he was going to kill you then it would’ve been obvious from the start. You exhaled slowly. You were certain that you could trust Kazuichi.

But you didn’t know if you could trust anyone else.

You and the mechanic soon approached the wooden platforms where the cottages were, and when you realized that this would be where you two part ways for the night, you began to panic.

“Well, good night!” Kazuichi said to you, but before he could completely turn away, you grabbed his arm. He looked back at you, perplexed. “Do you need anythin’ else?”

“Can I...” Your mouth seemed to be moving faster than your brain. “Can I stay with you in your cottage for tonight?”

“W-What?!” Now he was panicking, but for a reason that was much different than yours.

“I’m scared.” You explained quickly, impulsively. “I don’t want to die.”

Kazuichi’s heart was beating a million miles per minute. If the others found out he spent the night alone with a girl, they’d surely freak out and call him a pervert, but you looked so desperate right there in front of him. He wasn’t a knight in shining armor, but he could certainly try to be one for you in this very moment.

Shoulders still tense from nerves, Kazuichi exhaled. “O-Of course! You can stay with me for as long as you’d like!”

“Thank you.” And you were truly grateful.

Kazuichi began to lead you over to where his cottage was, but all you could think about was how warm you felt in that very moment. Maybe... 

Maybe this is what safety feels like.

#mod sakura #danganronpa #kazuichi soda #kazuichi #kazuichi x reader #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 #sdr2 kazuichi #super danganronpa 2 #goodbye despair #danganronpa goodbye despair #x reader #fluff #;)

[mrvltwimagines]

Hidden Love

EMILY PRENTISS X READER

SUMMARY: You were relatively good at hiding your feelings, until the one you were hiding your feelings from gets in a sticky situation.

WARNINGS: Season 3, Episode 2 spoilers, but nothing triggering!

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

PROMPT: Can I get a Prentiss x reader where Prentiss is in danger and reader like pushes her out of the way or something without thinking and gets hurt and then angst ensues ending with a feelings reveal and fluff I guess?

The team was growing desperate during this case. The unsub had managed to already kill four women, and we knew as much that he already had a new victim. Your brains wracked trying to figure out the connection between the victims, seeing if you could figure out where he’s grabbing them from. A policeman walked into the room we were in, letting us know that another lady had been taken.

“What do we know?” Derek asks him.

“Her name was Claire Thompson. Her husband tried to reach her on the cell phone, and when she didn’t pick up, he drove to the department store. Her car’s in the parking lot, but she’s not inside,” The policeman filled you all in, letting us know that the husband was in the other room. Spencer grabbed J.J. and the two of them left the room, going to talk with the husband to see if they can figure anything out with what he knows.

“I had the department store uplink the security footage to you analyst in Quantico,” He finished. Hotch nodded at him, dismissing him before we all turned to each other, knowing we’re one step closer to figuring things out. Derek quickly called up Garcia, hoping she had found something on the tape that would be useful.

“Hey baby girl, tell me something I want to hear,” he speaks, getting a small chuckle out of me and a weird look from the chief of police we were working with. She clearly said something flirty back by Derek’s reaction, before he got a bit more serious.

“Did you locate the missing girl on the security footage?” he asks. Within seconds, footage was pulled up on the computer in front of us. We all studied what was going on within it, looking for any minor things that would help us get closer to finding the unsub.

“She doesn’t seem to be on anyone’s radar,” Spencer inputs.

“Look,” Derek speaks up, “Who’s the kid?” We watch as a kid approaches her, concluding that the lady only has a two-year-old daughter and not what looks to be a ten-year-old boy. The boy looked to be lost and asking her for help.

“Garcia, this all you got?” Derek asks into the speaker phone.

“That’s it, and then they turned down a hallway without any security cameras and we lose them.”

While the chief of police thought maybe the kid was genuinely a missing kid, Hotch was quick to jump in saying he believed that the kid was not a missing child, and instead a kid that’s doing whatever necessary to please his father.

“All the abductions and disposals have been timed around school. I thought the unsub might work in the system, but what if this guy is actually using his own son to lure his victims?” he questioned. We were all silent after that, letting the information sit in. It would make sense and with the physical footage of it happening, it sort of put the pieces together. 

After figuring out the abduction and dumping grounds, on top of what kind of vehicle the unsub might be driving, the team set out different ways to try and catch this guy. You’d noticed Emily hadn’t been too vocal throughout any of this, and all you wanted to do was ask if she was alright but you knew now wasn’t the time. 

“Alright, tell me if I’m in the wrong here, but we’re not getting anywhere focusing on the unsub, maybe we should try focusing on the son?” J.J. inputted, “If he really is using his son, wouldn’t the trauma manifest more clearly on the boy?” 

You were quick to call up Garcia after bringing up to the team that you may need a list of all the children in area that we’re targeting.

“Talk dirty to me,” she answers, and for some reason you couldn’t help the flush that ran through your face. Emily smirked at your red exterior, everyone else finding it just as funny.

“Garcia, I need a list of every grade school in the third ward and Wauwatosa,” you requested. You could hear her typing in the background while telling you all that the third ward has one public grade school, but four private schools that draw from that area. In Wauwatosa, there were nine public schools and 3,200 students.

“Can you also get me a list of every guidance counselor that deals directly with the student body in that area?” She agreed, saying she would send it over as soon as possible, both of you hanging up your phones, “We need to present these counselors with the profile of the troubled kid,” you determined. You all split up after that. Hotch and Derek went with each other, J.J and Spencer went with each other, leaving you and Emily to be partners in literal crime.

“You know you’re really cute when you blush,” she compliments you out of nowhere as you walked from your car to the current elementary school that you were at. You couldn’t help but blush again at the compliment, making her laugh a bit as she held the door open for you to walk in. You thanked her, not knowing whether you were thanking her for the compliment or for holding the door open.

You both quickly made your way to the guidance counselors office, flashing your badges at her and quickly beginning the question process.

As soon as you got back to the police station, it was made aware to everyone that there was a lot more work to do, considering the amount of kids that fit our profile. As much as your mind wanted to be fully on the case, it was also running wild at how closely you and Emily were sitting to each other. You’ve been trying to harbor a crush for her that formed just a few months into beginning to work with the BAU which was just over a year ago. You’d done well, not making any noticeable efforts or moves that would throw suspicion to anyone on the team that you were growing more and more in love with her. It was hard, to say the least. Every time she got hurt or would need to miss a case due to her own issues, you wanted to bail and only focus on her, but you couldn’t. Relationships were deeply frowned upon between coworkers, for obvious reasons. Almost like she could feel your constant gaze flashing between her and the case files in front of you, she turned her head and looked you in the eyes, sending you a questioning gaze.

“Are you alright?” she whispered out, leaning even closer to you to try and keep your conversation private. You nodded quickly, your cheeks burning at have been caught, insisting that you were just thinking.

“Claire Thompson has been found dead,” a policeman announced while peaking his head into the conference room we were in. All of your shoulders fell, feeling a bit defeated that you hadn’t figured the unsub out before he was able to kill her. He dumped her in an abandoned alley surrounded by trash and overgrown weeds, her heart carved out like the rest of the victims.

“This is a different area than the dumpsites of the other victims, isn’t it?” Emily questioned.

“He’s getting smart. He knows where all our manpower will be so he’s changing locations.” Spencer offers up.

“Well how long before he changes when and where he abducts them?” Morgan comments, obviously asking a rhetorical question that none of you would be able to answer.

You all quickly made your way back to the station as Spencer began to map out all the abductions and dumpsites. It was determined that where the bodies had ended up, the unsub needed to know the area pretty well, because they sure as hell didn’t end up where they did by accident.

“So we go back to the schools, we eliminate the third ward, and we target problem kids whose fathers have held blue-collar jobs over the last ten years,” Hotch spoke up. Spencer was quick to cut in, letting you know what he was thinking.

“What if it’s not a problem child? Sometimes when a parent is unstable, especially if the other ones out of the picture, you’ll do anything to be the perfect child.”

“Like help your father abduct women?” Emily asked with a frown on her face.

“They’re never late for school. Even with the abductions, the disposals of the bodies, it’s always timed perfectly so the kid will be on time to school. I don’t think the killer would care, I think the kid would.” You thought about what he was saying. It was true that someone as out of control as our unsub was, he wouldn’t care about schedules, but if the kid was trying to please his parent in any way, he sure as hell would care. You instinctually looked at Emily to see what she was thinking, just to find her already looking your way. You nodded at each other, understanding that you were thinking the same thing.

Before you knew it, you and Emily were at one of the Elementary schools that the unsubs child could be attending, and you were back sitting in the counselor’s office.

“He’s a kid that’s a model student,” You start off the profile to the lady.

“Not just straight A’s, though. It’s someone who tries to please in a way that teachers have probably talked about.” Emily offered up.

After a bit more profile description you were given one name, David Smith. A kid with just his dad in the picture due to his mom leaving after the dad was diagnosed with a terminal illness. It explained the anger the father might hold, and the need for David to feel he needs to prove himself to please his dad. You both quickly thanked her, calling the team and filling them in before calling Garcia and asking for an address. You were close to their house already, and didn’t hesitate to make your way over there. The team were, if anything, only ten to fifteen minutes away from you so back up was on its way.

“We need to go in right away. You stay back and I’ll go in, okay?” Emily ordered off. You stumbled on your words, hating her plan. She was willingly going to go in the house by herself when you both know just how angry and temperamental the dad is?

“Are you crazy, Em? I’m not letting you go in there by yourself.” You bark back. You couldn’t help but hold your breath at the feeling of one of her hands caressing your face, thrown off a bit at the feeling of her skin on yours.

“I’ll be fine, I have a plan, and we know he already has a victim so he’ll be distracted. Please trust me on this.” You nodded, not even thinking about what you just agreed to, only being able to focus on the feeling of her hand on your face and the coldness that swept over your cheek once it was gone. 

“I’ll give you a signal the second I have probable cause for you and the rest of the team to enter the house, but until then I need you to just keep the perimeter secured,” she ordered. The feeling in your gut made a wave of nausea float throughout your body, but you hid it and simply nodded, “I’ll be fine, y/n.”

Before you knew it, Emily was knocking on the unsubs front door and you saw the boy in the security footage answer it. You both knew that the father and his current victim were most likely in a secluded room where none of the neighbors would be able to hear any screaming or calls out. Your heart rate sped up as the door closed behind Emily, and you couldn’t help yourself from getting closer to the house to look through the windows, keeping an eye on her no matter what. 

The team still wasn’t here and your nerves were going crazy. The second you lost sight of her as she walked down a different hallway, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You quietly made it to the front door, opening it and closing it behind you. You saw the boy sitting in one of the living room chairs, watching tv. You snuck behind him and followed the hallway that you last saw Emily walking down. There was only one door slightly open, and peeking through you could see her sneaking down the staircase. You could also see the wide eyes of the victim as she shook her head no at Emily, like she knew something neither of you did. You quickly stormed in behind her, just in time to see the unsub leap at her. Without thinking, you threw yourself on him, both of you toppling onto the concrete. The feeling knocked the wind out of you, and he gained control, able to land a hard hit to your face. Emily quickly got control of the situation before anything more could happen, and your unsub was in handcuffs with a shot to the foot quicker than you had time to fully gain your breath back. With Emily’s focus being on the unsub, you finally gained the strength to stand up and begin to untie the victim. You still felt a bit dizzy, but knowing you had saved Emily from a harsh attack made you feel better.

The rest of the team barged through the door just then, relieved to see both you and Emily were fine, grabbing the unsub and pulling him outside. You let yourself fully grasp the situation that just happened as Spencer consoled the victim and lead her outside too.

“y/n, what the fuck was that?” Emily asked, clearly distraught, “You were supposed to stay outside and wait for backup!” 

“Em, he was about to attack you!” you exclaimed, upset that she was mad at you, “what would have happened then if I hadn’t have come inside? You would’ve been on your own and hurt with a distraught murderer!” just the thought made you wince. Things could’ve turned out way worse than they did. Instead of Emily being harshly attacked, you were just left with a bruise on your cheek and a small backache.

“I hate that you did that. I hate that you didn’t follow my instructions,” she expressed, coming up to you and gently tracing the redness on your cheek from the punch.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt, Em,” you whispered out, “I’ve already had to watch for close to a year, a fair share of times where you’ve gotten hurt and every single time it’s like a chunk of my soul chips away. I hate seeing you hurt, especially if there’s something I could’ve done to prevent it,” you admitted. By the look on her face, you could tell she was still upset, but taking your words to heart. Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned forward a bit, kissing her quickly before backing away and instantly regretting your actions. She was surprised to say the least, but your heart was beating out of your chest. Why did you do that? It was almost like your body fully acted out without consoling your mind. It was truly a heart over mind situation.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Em,” you whispered, quickly backing away and heading back out to the SUV you both came in. The team had tried to ask you questions, but you couldn’t fathom talking to anyone at the moment. By the look on your face and your ability to walk past them without acknowledging your questions, they could obviously tell something was wrong. You looked back towards the front door of the house just in time from Emily to walk out, her face staying neutral as she answered all the questions that you were probably asked to begin with. 

Your heart ached thinking about how she looked after you kissed her. She didn’t necessarily look upset, but more surprised and distraught. Have you ruined everything now? Is she mad at you? Is this going to make things awkward now? It was ten minutes later when the drivers’ door opened, and you fully expected it to be one of the other team members, but sucked in a breath at the sight of her settling into the seat and closing the door. 

“Are we going to talk about what happened?” she asked, not even a tremor in her voice.

“I’m sorry, Em. My emotions just got ahold of me and I acted without thinking,” you admitted, your eyes filling up with tears as you thought of the repercussions you could face. You jumped a bit at the feeling of her hand on your thigh, getting your attention to turn back to her as she looked at you with soft eyes.

“I like you, y/n. Believe me when I say that. I have liked you for months now, and I’m nowhere near upset that you kissed me, I was just surprised,” she said. Your eyes grew wide at the confession, your heart doing a happy skip as you took in her words.

“Really?” you asked, still unable to believe that any of this was actually happening. A small smile crossed her face as she took the lead this time, leaning in and kissing you, but with more intention this time. You separated and could feel the blood rush to your face for the thousandth time today, a small smile gracing both of your faces. 

“So what does this mean?” you asked, the worry growing a bit when you thought of the grand plan of how your relationship would work.

“I may have had to tell the team what happened due to them seeing you as distraught as you were,” she whispered, still gently holding your face in place so you wouldn’t look away. You scrunched your face up at the sound of that, “Hotch said it took us long enough to realize we both liked each other.”

Your eyes grew wide as a laugh escaped her mouth. They had known? You thought you did such a good job at hiding your feelings!

“I say we can talk about details later, maybe over dinner?” she asks. This time you couldn’t hold the large smile from forming on your face as you frantically nodded your head.

“I’d love that,” you whispered out. You regretted wasting all the months not telling her how you felt, but now that you know it’s mutual and there’s a large potential of being in the relationship that you’ve wanted so badly, you’re thankful that you hadn’t listened to Emily’s orders earlier or you wouldn’t have all of this. You were finally able to express your feelings and having her express hers back was a surreal thing. Your mind settled, along with your body as you both buckled up and she began to drive back to the station so you could grab your things and head back to the jet to get home. You smiled the whole way, excited for what was about to happen. You were finally going on a long-awaited date with the woman you loved, and you couldn’t be any happier.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss x reader angst #emily prentiss x reader fluff #emily prentiss angst #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff

[anthonyed]

buckytony for “it’s cold, you should wear my jacket”? only if you’re still taking prompts !

Thank you for requesting, Ava! I hope you like this:) (from this list)

-//-

Bucky Barnes loves people.

He genuinely loves them; the way they interact, the way they act and react and all of their emotions especially their unsurmountable passion – Witnessing that in itself can be electrifying.

Secretly, Bucky wishes he could taste that much passion at least once. 

Subconsciously, he seeks them out in people he’s around – Hoping even if it’s not his own, at least, someone would be kind enough to share theirs.

-

When he first tries to acclimatize to the ecosystem in the Avengers tower, he sticks a lot with Bruce because Bruce oozes tranquillity.

Bruce has weekly tea dates with Natasha, whom Bucky kinda remembers but also kinda doesn't. But since he's leaving all those memories behind and moving on, he doesn't wallow into that part of his past too much. 

He joins them on their tea dates. Natasha later invites him for Yoga sessions and once Bucky is confident enough to be alone with her, he joins her.

They practice various poses for hours and at the end of each session, Bruce will pop in to lead them through meditation. Which is all good; a reliable system in the building if you ask for Bucky’s opinion.

But Natasha occasionally goes on missions and Bruce on some personal trips; sometimes both of their trips coincide and Bucky's left fending for himself.

These are the times when he pops out of his room, feet padding in the direction of boisterous laughter which comes from Sam Wilson and Clint Barton; resident's children.

They teach him how to play video games and curse in 21st century slang. He learns slurs and cuss words which he then practices on Steve for personal entertainment.

There's also Miss Potts who flutters in and out of their life like a hummingbird.

Bucky first meets her on an early Monday morning; sitting alone at the communal kitchen table talking to herself (which he later learns was to an earpiece).

She's thoughtful in a way that nobody else is.

She loudly complains about Tony Stark while jabbing at the coffee machine pointedly, making sure Bucky could see what she is doing - And he realises half-way through that she is teaching him how to operate the machinery without being obvious about it.

She's lovely; Bucky likes her very much.

He also likes Jim Rhodes, who is worse than Miss Hummingbird. 

Who visits during the Memorial Day, gets stupid drunk trying to out drink Stevie then uses Bucky as his beanpole for the entire afternoon recounting all of his favourite military tales until he passes out.

Bucky doesn't mind; Colonel Rhodes smells nice under all the alcohol and he makes very funny jokes. 

There’s also the fact that Tony Stark loves him very loudly and proudly.

Like Stevie, he thinks; Tony Stark is Colonel Rhodes’ Stevie (Or maybe it’s the other way around, Bucky needs more time to figure that one out.)

Harold 'Happy' Hogan catches Bucky stepping out of the tower one night and offers to drive him in one of Stark's long weiner cars. When Bucky says no thanks, he crooks a finger and shows him where the motorbikes are.

"Are you sure...?"

"As long as you don't crash," Happy tosses a set of keys and Bucky accepts it, reluctantly.

But the ride he gets that evening is both soul-shifting and addictive, and he feels more reluctant returning the key when it ends.

“Never mind,” Happy tells him, “These are accessible any time, just ask JARVIS for them.”

And Bucky thinks Happy is cool that way. So, when he's coming home from long rides then on, Bucky makes sure to grab burgers with extra fries for him. Happy likes them curly; Bucky remembers that too for him,

Bucky meets Tony Stark on the battle-field for the first time. Static, machine-modulated voice tells him to watch his "sexy six" and Bucky blushes three shades darker under the afternoon Sun.

Later, after long countless observations, Bucky learns Tony Stark flirts like he breathes; no intentions what-so-ever beneath his wicked tongue.

But Bucky's got a heart too tender just blooming out of ash like baby phoenix and he couldn't help but get deeply affected by each one of those passes Tony throws at him.

He blushes like a red rose in July; warm and pretty and everyone notices the weakened state of his knees.

From Bruce to Natasha to Stevie, Sam and Clint. Hell, even Happy and Miss Potts could see past his breastbone where his heart flutters out of control when Tony Stark is around.

Come Halloween, Colonel Rhodes passes through; staying for one night and in the span of less than five hours he's been around, he corners Bucky in the kitchen and asks him what his intentions are.

Bucky stutters through his response; even apologizes for his over-reaction to Tony Stark's meaningless flirtation.

But Jim Rhodes cocks his head right and squeezes his arm. He says if there is anyone he'd trust to make his Tony happy, then it would be: "You, Sergeant Barnes"

Colonel Rhodes flies early on November 1st, but his words stick long and hard in Bucky's brain for weeks on end.

Then one day, an idea strikes him.

He rolls out of the bed with a sense of urgency; sending texts to both Bruce and Tasha, apologizing for not being able to make it to today's tea session and he hops into the elevator; pulling his shoes on, one after another.

"The workshop please, Mister JARVIS," he requests.

He knows Tony's in. Heard him talking to Miss Potts this morning about clearing out his schedule and Bucky hopes with all of his beating heart that his plan wouldn't face any rejection from Tony.

Stepping into the shop, breathless from all the emotions boiling in his chest, Bucky blurts out: "Come out with me."

Tony stark; stunned behind his protective eyewear, arms bare through his singlet, drops the welding torch he's been manning with a loud clang.

"Now?" he asks.

Not 'Are you kidding me?' or 'No fucking way'; but, 'Now?' he asks while wiping his fingers on a cloth, looking ready to follow like he’s been waiting for Bucky to come around since ages ago.

Bucky grins at him. "Yeah," he nods, "It’s cold, you should wear my jacket." He tosses the extra pair he'd grabbed from his closet and Tony catches it with an ease and an amused grin.

“Your jacket, Sergeant? I could swoon.”

“Good,” Bucky says, watching him pull it on. “I was hoping you would.”

Ten minutes later, they're speeding on the freeway on one of Tony's bikes; late Autumn breeze licking where their skins are uncovered, and it's freezing cold. But Bucky could only taste the warmth from Tony’s body plastered against him; his arms, tight and securely locked around his midriff. Like bursts of sunlight in a snow-storm.

They stop for dinner at one of the diners Bucky had been to twice before - could vouch for their food - and he's more than glad when Tony wipes his plate clean with the last fry.

When he packs for Happy like he usually does, Tony watches him with a curious kind of softness in his brown eyes; so, Bucky shares their little story with him.

On their way back home, they pull over at the side of the freeway that’s shaving the top of a small hill overlooking a neighbourhood and it’s guarded by a long silver railing which Tony hops over; waits for Bucky to follow with his hand out-reached for taking.

Bucky grabs it; clutches onto like a lifeline, at the same time, a fragile china, and they shuffle down the grassy slope; mouths split in wide grins, chuckles bursting out of seams and when Tony comes to a stop somewhere in the middle, Bucky does too.

"It's not always you get to see stars," Tony says, fingers tangled with Bucky’s like he wants to be and he's beautiful; eyes cast skyward, wonder glimmering in their warmth, lips curved in a soft angle -

He looks like the star itself has descended to earth; burning bright before Bucky's eyes and - Jesus Roosevelt Christ. What kind of heaven is that? Bestowed on Bucky, like a blessing beyond any worth and he doesn't know what to do with himself right then. 

You leave me breathless: he longs to say. You make me feel blessed beyond what I deserve, make me feel more than I know I ever could and it would be my goddamn honour to love you, I swear - Would be my Goddamn fucking honour to love you, sweetheart.

 But he doesn't say all that; would have choked on his tongue before he could even manage half of them out, so he swallows his spit and watches Tony watch the stars until his swollen heart explodes into confetti rain in its cage and -

And then, Bucky breathes; inhales lungs full of cold air prickling like icicles throughout his chest – shuddering, and when Tony looks down from the night sky at him, Bucky cups his jaw with trembling fingers and strokes his cheek with a thumb.

"You drive me insane," he tells him. "But you also keep me sane.”

“You’re like Bruce with his tea and Tasha with her Yoga. You’re what Sam and Clint describe how they feel when they play video games, or how Stevie says drawing makes him feel. You make my heart hop a mile like a bunny rabbit but also soothe me like balm, and if that’s how it feels to be passionate in life, then you’re my reason why.”

The stars blink up in the sky, the sound of the traffic along with the bone chilling November breeze witness Bucky empty his soul for Tony to take in the middle of a hill slope, somewhere upstate. 

But Tony, he's silent; for the first time since Bucky had known him, he's holding his tongue. And Bucky wishes he doesn't. 

Wishes, he would say something; anything at all. Or he would smile, or grin, and let Bucky taste passion for the first time from his tongue - One that is his own for a change, not someone else's. 

But neither happens; nothing happens. 

Tony doesn't say a word or show any signs of either acceptance or rejection; even if his breath catches in a sharp inhale exactly one time and he presses his hand over Bucky’s on his face. 

But neither could count in the face of how violently Bucky had cleaved his gut open for Tony that night.

They get on the road again soon after and Bucky's skin starts to itch from growing worries; wondering if he’d crossed a fine line between them because Tony's silence is eating him alive.

He stays pressed close to Bucky’s back for their entire ride home; hands locked tight over Bucky’s midriff and somewhere in the middle, Bucky feels the heat of Tony's cheek through his leather jacket; pressed between his shoulder blades, injecting trickles of hope into his spine.

When they reach the city and later the tower; when Bucky pulls into the garage and turns off the engine, neither of them gets off the bike.

For Bucky, he pretends the journey's still not over so he could savour the warmth plastered onto his back just a little while longer.

As for Tony, Bucky finds out why he’s staying when the locked arms around his waist breaks and one of the hands wander upwards; coming to rest over where Bucky’s heart trips and races; the prickling sensation along his nape doubling and he stops breathing all at once.

When he does inhale, his spine bones shudder from the forceful way he sucks in a breath. Evidently feeling the tremor, Tony chuckles close to his ear and tells him to, “Take it easy, James. I’m trying to feel if you’ve told me the truth, or made up a beautiful lie.”

A giddy exhale escapes Bucky’s chest in a soft puff air. Feeling suddenly bold just from that statement, he leans back into Tony’s hold and presses his own hand on top of his.

And he savours the silence along with the sweet scent of Tony tinged with metal and grease, and Bucky could swear, he feels Tony’s heartbeat through the layers of their clothes. From behind their ribs and flesh and through their lungs, and it feels like the meat of their hearts have merged into one; singing to the same symphony in the womb of their home.

Later, once the tune has sunk into his marrow, Bucky quietly asks, “What’s the verdict, sweetheart?”

Their hands still lay, combined over Bucky’s chest and it’s heaven to be this close with someone you ache for – Bucky knows. He never forgets to count his blessings these days; he just hopes that this one never finds its end at all.

If he could whisper a wish into the air, he’d ask God to let them stay this way forever. But this goes both ways, and Bucky may be selfish but he’s not entirely cruel; he wouldn’t subject Tony to what he doesn’t want.

So, he gives him another out; prods, “Am I a liar or am I not?”, when Tony doesn’t answer him the first time around.

But Tony seems to desire what Bucky wants – Which. What a miracle is that?

He says, “Shh, James Barnes. Let’s just stay like this longer,” and Bucky’s poor heart, in all of its new born tenderness; speckles of ash still present from when it was reborn like a phoenix  - Finally, finds its wings and soars high. 

#buckytony #winteriron #mine #*fingers crossed* i hope you like this #thank you for the help may #prompts

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Comfortember Day 5: Father’s Cuddles

Summary: Written for Comfortember Day 5. Set during my Httyd child OC AU/my Tiny AU. Hiccup is called home from Chiefing when his son falls ill.

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Fishlegs (mentioned), Astrid (mentioned)

Pairing: OT6

Words: 1 603

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Cuddling”

Whumpee: Httyd child oc (Tiny)

Author’s Notes: I have a Httyd child OC and I saw the Comfortember prompts and I had the mighty need to combine the two. If I don't write purely self-indulgent stuff, then what even is the point of writing fanfiction?

Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this one.

Here is my son. And pure fluff with a side of whump!

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

Ao3

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It is with a hurry that Hiccup returns home early from a day of chiefing the village of Berk. It's only in the afternoon, but already he's finished up what he can with the knowledge that Astrid will take care of the rest. Eret is there to help her out if she needs a second pair of hands.

With a quick pace, he jogs up the steps towards his house with Toothless following close behind. He opens the front door to let himself in and a wave of warmth from the fire washes over him as he kicks the snow off his boot and prosthetic.

"Hey, little man, it's okay." Snotlout talks with a soft tone to someone small sitting on his lap and crying into his chest.

That someone is a young boy of only one and a half. Gone is the red hair and the blue eyes he was born with, instead replaced by the brown hair and green eyes he has now. Because of this, he looks even more like Hiccup than he already did.

Vigi, as he's called, is in Snotlout's arms as he cries, but his words of comfort don't quite comfort the boy. Ruffnut is there with them and so is Tuffnut, who's holding a cup of water.

"Oh hey, look who's here, Tiny!" Ruffnut calls him by the nickname the Riders have chosen for him as she points to Hiccup upon his entrance. Tiny lifts his head from Snotlout's chest and turns his tear-stained face towards the door.

"I'm here! I'm here." Hiccup says and closes the front entrance to keep the cold out while the fire in the pit keeps the warmth inside.

"Daddy!" Tiny cries and reaches for Hiccup, who picks him up from Snotlout's lap as he's handed over and holds him. Tiny's short arms wrap around his father's neck with a tight grip.

"Hey, Buddy, what's wrong?" Hiccup asks, but Vigi doesn't respond, instead sniffing on his shoulder and staining his chest piece with tears and snot like he'd stained Snotlout. At least he's already calming down from whatever has made him cry.

Toothless pads over to behind Hiccup and stands up on his two hind legs to coo at the boy.

Tiny gazes at the dragon with his sad face, but doesn't say anything to him.

"Can someone tell me what's wrong with him?" Hiccup asks and looks to the three Riders with him for an answer.

Hiccup knows his son has been off all day. He woke up too early, has barely eaten any breakfast, and isn't as energetic as he usually is. So when someone had been sent to come get him after he'd left these three to look after him, Hiccup wasn't surprised.

"I think his throat hurts, he's been drinking a lot and he can't sleep. Don't think he has a fever yet, though." Snotlout informs him. Astrid may still be a little iffy towards the three, but they do a good job with their son, despite popular opinion.

"Yeah, the poor little guy hasn't had his nap at all! He's been crying for the past ten minutes." Ruffnut tells Hiccup and approaches to rub Vigi's cheek. He's quiet now that he's in Hiccup's arms with the occasional sniff, but with how tightly he holds on, he's still far from being comforted.

"Okay," Hiccup mutters and presses his cheek against his son's forehead, hoping to get a feeling on his temperature. It's hotter than it should be. "Did someone send for Gothi?"

"Fishlegs did." Tuffnut answers.

So Fishlegs was home at some point to check up on the little guy, too. Which is understandable as he must be worried, if one of the six Riders knows, they all know. Astrid, too, has come by throughout the day.

"Okay, that's good. I'm going upstairs to bed with him, come get me when Gothi is here. Do it quietly, just in case I can get him to fall asleep." Hiccup tells them and the three nod before he turns to ascend the stairs to their loft. Naturally, Toothless follows them up.

Tiny is still wearing his nightwear, nobody dressed him for the day because they expected him to fall ill, so there's no need to change him before bed.

They reach the upper floor and Hiccup puts Tiny on his bed, the boy almost not letting go.

"It's okay, I'm just removing my boot and leg." Hiccup assures him when he sees him pull an expression like he's about to cry again.

Hiccup sits down on the edge next to him to do as he says and removes them. He removes his armor, too, leaving just his tunic and his trousers. Moving further up the bed, he sits with his back against the headboard, a pillow behind him.

"Come here, Vigi" Hiccup tells his son, arms out, and the boy doesn't waste a second before he crawls up onto his lap. With Hiccup wrapping his arms around him again, Tiny buries himself in his father's hold.

Toothless climbs up on the bed and settles at the foot end, tail hanging off the side and lying on the floor. Even now he rarely leaves Hiccup's side and that includes whenever he needs to retreat to somewhere quiet and peaceful with a sick child.

Though still upset and hurting, Tiny takes comfort in this embrace and listens to Hiccup's heartbeat. It's hard to miss with his ear against his parent's chest.

"Gothi will be here soon and when she does, she can tell us what's wrong and we can make the pain go away. You want to hear a story while we wait?" Those were two long sentences for someone Tiny's age, but he recognizes enough words to pick up on what Hiccup asks him and he nods quietly.

"You want to hear a story about your grandpa Stoick? I still have plenty of those, won't run out for at least the foreseeable future." Hiccup suggests and Tiny quietly nods again, hearing "story" and "grandpa" in the same sentence. His face is barely visible in Hiccup's hold.

Toothless watches his Rider expectantly. He's still wearing his saddle and prosthetic when it is clear he and Hiccup won't be taking to the sky today, but someone else can remove it for him later.

"Okay, let me think." Hiccup mutters as he racks his brain over a tale he can tell and sinks a little against the headboard, allowing Vigi to lie a little, so he won't need to sit up.

"I think I've got one. It's about your grandfather and how he met a dragon named Thornado." Hiccup doesn't plan on making the story too detailed or hard to follow, but what truly matters is that he keeps his son entertained until Gothi comes.

Toothless purrs approvingly. As much as he was on the receiving end of Stoick's sudden desire to have a dragon of his own, it is still a good tale to tell.

Barely five minutes pass and Hiccup stops as he gets to the part where the Thunderdrum is officially revealed. Soft snoring comes from the child lying on his chest, who has a stuffed nose.

After a few hours of struggling to sleep, he has finally dozed off and it's part of the reason why Snotlout, Ruff, and Tuff sent for him. It's simply because Vigi has an easier time falling asleep with Hiccup than anyone else on Berk, sometimes even Toothless. And that while the boy's first word after "ma!" was arguably "Oofess!"

Now all that remains is to wait for the village healer and then they can help the poor child treat his ailment.

There is creaking on the stairs and Hiccup looks over to find the three Riders who are still here.

"Is he sleeping?" Snotlout asks, whispering just in case, and Hiccup nods. It's a good thing, that means he can be a little rested before Gothi comes as she will surely have to examine him, something no child or adult really likes.

"Okay, good. We'll be downstairs if you need us." Snotlout tells him and passes the Thorston twins on the way down, minding the noise. Tiny has finally fallen asleep, it's better that they don't wake him up. Babies and toddlers sometimes have sharper ears than you'd expect.

"Bye, Teeny!"

"Bye, Tiny!" Tuff and Ruff each whisper softly and wave before they go down. They don't expect the toddler to return it, but you never know.

Hiccup shakes his head in amusement once they're out of sight.

And now all that is left for him to do is wait. Wait until Gothi comes with Fishlegs and quite possibly Astrid as well. That is, if she doesn't have a list of patients she needs to get through first before she can come to the Haddock Household. The weather is getting colder, which means many Berkians of all ages are bound to get sick.

That means Gothi could quite possibly take a few hours and that Hiccup will be here a little while with a sleeping toddler on his chest that he can't move.

"Hey Bud, can you grab me a book?" Hiccup requests and the Night Fury obliges, getting off the bed to grab the one. He doesn't need to struggle, there's one lying on top of a low bookshelf, which he knows Hiccup has been reading as of late, so he grabs that one.

Hiccup, meanwhile, turns his attention down at the snoring boy. He places a kiss on top of his head, right in that messy head of hair of his.

#comfortember #comfortember2020 #no.5 #cuddling #httyd #how to train your dragon #fanfics #hiccup haddock #httyd oc #httyd child oc #vigi tiny haddock #ot6 #toothless #hictooth #dragon bros #snotlout jorgenson #ruffnut thorston #tuffnut thorston #oc whump #httyd oc whump #oc #original characters #my fanfics #father's cuddles

[kiritella]

4 on the prompt list for Loki?

This one was so long because apparently, I can’t write anything short XD.  I don’t even know why I had the beginning, it just felt right.  Thanks for the request and I hope you like it!

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Words: 2.5k

#4: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

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How you had gotten separated, you had no idea, but one moment Loki was beside you, fighting off the people swarming out of the base, and the next, he was missing.   You looked around, trees up to the skies surrounding you, the wet dirt beneath your feet telling of the last rain, and the ants finding food to bring back home. A heavy breath settled in your chest, the humidity of the air making everything hotter than it already was and you tilted your head to look at the sky.  Your hypersensitivity was one of the reasons you were on this mission. You saw things most people would see too late, but unfortunately, it also meant you could lose sight of where you are going when you were caught up in the moment.  The scene around you only told that truth because you knew you were a good way from the base you had originally attacked.  

You shook your head, and turned around, leaving behind about six bodies sprawled out on the forest floor.  They were still breathing, but you’re pretty sure their ego was long dead.  As you began to jog back to the base, the eerie sensations of being watched crawled up your arms and slithered down your spine. It sank into your thoughts until you heard a branch crack and you stopped dead in your tracks, feet skidding into the dirt to push you to a halt.  The sound of faint breathing reached your ears, a light footstep just a little closer, then the smell hit you.  Musty, exhaustion, the combination of sweat and dirt, the faint scent of an expensive cologne, and salt, it was a bitter taste on your tongue swirling in a gnarly mixture in your brain.  Someone was definitely following you.  You spun on your heels as a voice began to speak.  It was heavy, gravely, and controlled despite the breathlessness of following you.

“You know, you’re one of the hardest people of your little gang to keep up with, I have to applaud you,” he said, stepping out from behind a tree nearly thrice his width. His steps were calculated, firm, a knife in his hand skillfully in place.  Trained.  Blood trickled from his lip, a little more from his arm, nothing that looked serious, but clearly he had been in a scuffle with one of your teammates and made it out. Skilled.

“I accept your kind words, but I really must be going, so can we hurry this up a little, TurtleButt?” You snapped and grinned as his face twisted, setting your feet into a proper stance.  You had run out of bullets a while ago and your knives weren’t exactly in the place to come out just yet, so until you had an opening, hand to hand it was.

“You have really lame insults,” he sneered, and you shrugged.

“I know, but I honestly don’t care,” you said, and he rolled his eyes.

He groaned, “Alright, let’s get this over with, I’d like to get home for dinner.”

You smiled as he came at you, bracing yourself and began to dodge his advances, jumping back as he swung the knife at your chest, “What are you having for dinner?”

“Chicken Risotto,” he grunted before grabbing your arm, releasing it as you jabbed your palm into his nose.

“Sounds good. Any sides?”

He shrugged, “My wife usually makes it with mushrooms and rice, so…” he said and shook his shoulders, placing his stance as you jumped at him.  You had his arm twisted behind his back before he shifted and knocked your feet from under you, sending your body colliding onto the ground.  You scrambled to get to your feet, but he kicked you to the side.

“Oh! Mushroom Rice sounds really good right now,” you said before a sudden searing pain shot through your shoulder, and your eyes snapped open in shock.  The man was steady over you, his hand wrapped around the hilt of the knife now buried in your shoulder, but he wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t even cheerful for his blow or the evident shock on your face, he just looked tired.  The kind of tired that isn’t cured by sleep but keeps you up in the dead of night wondering what the hell you are doing and how much longer you will choose to live.

“Do you always talk this much when you’re fighting?” he asked, and you laid your head back on the ground and his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Why do you do all this?” you asked, and he nearly laughed.

“You have a knife buried in your shoulder and you’re asking me the reason for my life choices,” he contorted in disbelief.

“Isn’t that what I just asked you, TurtleButt?” you chuckled but groaned at the pain.  At this point the man was just hovering over you with his hand on the knife, neither of you moving.

He chuckled, “You’re insane.”

“Oh, I already knew that, but that’s not the question.”

“I have mouths to feed, and when you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, you choose the option you know will put food on the table.”

You nodded, “Do you believe in what they teach you here?”

The man shook his head, “How anyone can agree with half the things they do still throws me for a loop.”

“You ever consider joining Shield?”

The man laughed, outright and you could see his humanity, something that gets lost in the work you do.  Humanity seems to be forgotten when you focus too much. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Hundred Percent,” you said, and the man quit laughing, just looked at you in confusion, “As for how much I think it is a good idea, I’d say I’m only about 70% sure.”

The man laughed and got off you, leaving the knife buried in your flesh, “I’m too far gone, girlie.”

You scrunched up your nose as you sat up, “Okay, not a fan of the nickname, but it’s never too late to do the right thing.  You have a choice; everyone always has a choice.  It doesn’t make it easy, and it definitely isn’t without its struggles, but the choice is always there.”

“They will lock me up the second they can.”

“Not if you choose to help instead of, y’know, going all stabby-stabby on us.”

“I still don’t see how you are able to talk with a knife in your shoulder.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been stabbed.  Especially when training with Loki.  He’s an ass sometimes.  Well, he used to be, now he’s all soft and mushy for me,” you said and after a moment of silence, “So…should we keep fighting or are you gonna come and help me get the flash drive?  The team is waiting for me and as much as I love talking with you, I can’t let them down.”

The man shook his head, “I can’t let my family down.  They need me, and I can’t do much from prison.”

“What if I could promise you a chance?  You’ll start at the very beginning, Shield recruit.  Hell, I’ll even offer to train you myself.”

He hesitated, a million possibilities crossed his mind and you watched as just an ounce of hope revived in his chest, “Okay.”

You smiled, “Great, now do me a favor and take the knife out of my shoulder.”

“What?  No, you need a doctor for that.”

“Either you do it, or I do it.  It’s not that deep and didn’t hit any important blood vessels.  The only damage is some muscle and my pride.”

“How do you know it didn’t hit anything serious?”

“The limited amount of blood and the fact my brain is tuned in to practically everything 100x more than anyone else, especially my own body.”

The man nodded weakly before placing his hand on the blade, and without notice, yanking it cleanly from your shoulder.  A stifled scream escaped your lips, but you breathed heavily and stood.  The man helped you to your feet and you both began jogging back to the base.  You weren’t too concerned about the others considering you could hear them through the comms, they had most of it handled.  

“Oh, I should tell you.  We should probably keep the fact that you stabbed me on the down-low until I can explain. Loki might try and kill you.”

“Why Loki?”

“He’s kinda like my boyfriend.”

The man rolled his eyes, “Why does that make so much sense?”

You shrugged and just as you were about to ask his name, you arrived at the base and were thrown into battle mode.  You were only gone about 15 minutes, but the battlefield was littered with brick and mortar, half the building exploded and burst open.  Sam flew overhead as you saw Bucky enter the base, Hulk was taking out the cannons on the roof while it appeared Scott was working on the leftover agents on the outside.  At least, that’s what it looked like considering people were flipping and falling and tripping for no apparent reason.

“What are you guys looking for?” The man asked and you made a mental note to ask his name later.

“Biochemical weapon.  The kind that melts your face and turns you into gut-soup,” you said and picked up one of the fallen agent’s guns, checking it’s clip before walking into the base.

The man nodded and directed you through the halls before stumbling across a lab.  Bucky was already hunched over one of the computers, a thumb-drive downloading the content and he looked up at your entry, his gun suddenly poised at the man beside you.

“Chill, Bucky, he’s a friend,” you said quickly and ran over to the locked cabinet-fridge and busting open the glass carefully.

“Another one, really?” Bucky asked as he set his gun down and refocused on the computer, “How do you even find these people?”

“Gut feeling,” you said, taking the proper cylinder from the fridge along with a couple of vials, tucking them in the case on your belt, “How long?”

“Five minutes before this place is cleared out,” Bucky answered and looked up to you, “Oh, and Loki is pissed at you.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.”

“You probably should have stayed by him; you know how he gets.”

“A mission is a mission, and I will get it done.  I’ll take care of him later, he’s comes off angry but we all know he’s just worried.”

“Yes, and if you lovely ass had stayed where it was supposed to, there would be no need for me to worry,” a new voice said and you smiled, turning around to see Loki walking up to you, “Who is this guy?”

“Don’t worry about him, he’s a new recruit and absolutely lovely.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Bucky said, pulling the thumb-drive from the computer, and you all followed him out of the base.  Loki remained beside you, hovering, protective, and your eyes soften.  He always cared more than he let on.  Once all of you were on the jet, you went your separate ways.  People gave looks to the new guy as he climbed in, but one look from you and everyone cleared the way.  

“I can’t believe you found another one,” Tony started, slipping out of his Iron Man suit and Natasha nodded in agreement.

“What does that make this month, four?”

You shrugged, “I don’t keep count,” you said and stood straight.  Your uniform kept the blood from your shoulder hidden, and you would really like to make it at least to the base before Loki started on a lecture, so you went below deck.  The new guy was settling in with introductions to the team as you slipped away, taking the stairs down to the bunks, and grabbing a set of clothes from your duffle bag. The showers were minimal, especially considering this jet wasn’t meant to be too long-term, just maybe for a three-week mission, but it helped a lot.  You were able to get the grime off your body, the blood and sweat that filled your senses on the double.  The wound in your shoulder wasn’t too bad, absolutely painful now that the adrenaline was wearing off, but not too bad, nonetheless.

Once you got out of the shower and entered the barracks, or whatever you wanted to call them, Loki stood up from one of the beds, his face much softer than it was at the base, but the second his eyes honed in on the fresh wound, his gaze hardened all over again.

He marched over to you, gripping your good shoulder as he prodded around your injury, “Why didn’t you tell me?” he practically growled, a green haze dancing around his eyes.  His shoulders relaxed as you placed a hand around his neck, guiding him to look at you instead of your injury.

“I’m alright, Love,” you whispered, and his eyes closed, his hand falling to your waist to pull you close, tucking you under his chin.  His hold was delicate, careful, and you melted into his warmth, holding the lapels of his green and black coat, “I promise it isn’t that bad.”

“Darling, you should have stayed beside me.”

“I know you get worried, but I can handle myself.”

“I know that you can, but I fear your demise, and should it ever come, I will not be the man I am today.  You keep me grounded, my love.”

Your heart ached for him, the minute shake and crack of his voice was enough to tell of his truth, and you tilted your head, and kissed his jaw.  He leaned down just enough to press his forehead to yours, his nose bumping against yours and you cupped his cheek.

“Everything will be alright,” you promised, and he nodded softly, letting you capture his lips in a kiss, taking his worry from his thoughts, but never enough to steal it from his bones.  Nothing could ever make him lose his worry for your safety.  He kissed you passionately, and as you parted, his thumb traced across your lips.

“Let me take care of you,” he asked, and you knew it was more for his sanity than anything, his need to be sure you were telling the truth, so you nodded, backing away to sit on one of the bunks as he pulled out the medkit.  He knelt before you, an ironic scheme considering his past, and you smiled.

“Who would have thought I would be the one to make you kneel?”

Loki laughed, a green haze wrapping around the needle and thread as he delicately cleaned and smeared lidocaine cream around your injury, “You say that as if you aren’t the most powerful enchantress in his realm.”

“I am no enchantress.”

“How else would you have bewitched me?” he asked with a sly grin as he peered up at you and you smiled, leaning down to peck his lips.

“Maybe you’re just softer than you pretend to be.”

Loki chuckled as he began to stitch your injury, “Nonsense, Love.  Absolute rubbish.”

“If you say so,” you said and when he finished wrapping your shoulder, he helped you stand, “But it doesn’t matter, because either way, I still got the God of Mischief wrapped around my little finger.”

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

Forever Tags: [Open]

@snarky--starky @thelovelydreamer17 @bugsbucky

#500 follower celebration #loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x hurt!reader #loki x reader hurt #worried!loki #worried loki #x reader #cute loki #cute!loki

[galactic-magick]

Kiss Me: Logan x Reader

Request: Hmmm. So from the prompt list, maybe number 7 (“If you don’t kiss me right this second I swear I’ll strangle you”) with childhood best friends to lovers logan x reader? Thank you!

Summary: You have a summer party with the sides and come to terms with your feelings for Logan.

Words: 2100+                                        

Warnings: swears, some kissy kissy

Author’s Notes: I got a little carried away with this one XD This is probably the longest one shot I’ve ever written lol, hope y’all like it!

Taglist: @luluwinchester​ @nerve-ous-love​ @zarieslayer​ @amayaisokay​

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“Food’s ready everyone!” Patton calls, sliding the last burger onto the serving plate. He’s always been fantastic on the grill, and today he made pretty much everything he knows how. He made burgers, veggie burgers, hot dogs, kabobs, and everything in between.

It’s been a while since you’ve had a fun gathering with the sides, so when he suggested having a summer party in the backyard you all were ecstatic. You’ve all been friends for years, but sadly life gets in the way sometimes and you don’t get to hang out as much anymore.

As much as you’re happy to see everyone there, you can’t help but be extra excited to see Logan. He’s your best friend, and has been through thick and thin. He’s always the first to check in on you and help you out whenever you need it and you truly feel like you can be yourself around him. He lifts you up yet isn’t afraid to be honest with you. He balances you out perfectly.

“Hey guys!” you wave.

“Y/N! So glad you could make it!” Patton runs over and gives you a hug.

Virgil and Janus wave back and Roman and Remus greet you as well.

“Hello,” Logan nods with a smile.

You skip to him as your grin brightens, “Hello,”

“It’s very nice to see you,”

“Of course it is,” you laugh. “It’s nice to see you too. How’ve you been?”

“Very well. Everything appears to be working smoothly. You?”

“I’ve been alright,”

If you’re not mistaken, he’s gotten even more handsome since the last time you saw him. Is that possible?

Wait, what are you thinking?

No, no, it’s fine. It’s totally normal to find your friends attractive, right? You’re sure he’d say the same about you, and it wouldn’t be weird at all.

But damn does his smile make your heart flutter, and the way his slightly grown out bangs fall around his forehead gives you an irresistible urge to touch it. As you grab your food together his hand brushes against yours just for a moment, but it sends shivers down your spine for several more. He makes you laugh whether or not he’s trying to and fascinates you with his extensive knowledge on various topics. He makes you happier than anyone on the planet.

But of course none of that really means anything, right? Never mind the fact that since seeing him today you haven’t been able to get the thought of kissing him out of your head, how badly you want to just whisk him away to the side of the house, grab his shirt and make out with him ‘til you can’t breathe.

Alright, maybe that’s not normal.

It’s not like it would ever happen anyway, you’re sure he sees you as just a friend and you’re honestly fine with that. You’d never want to lose your best friend simply because you caught feelings.

As everyone finishes up their meal, you notice Remus running to the porch and shuffling around in a trash bag.

You turn to Logan, “What’s he doing?”

“I’ve found it’s best not to wonder,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s probably nothing of importance…NO WAIT WATCH OUT!”

Before you know it, you’re completely soaked head to toe and swivel around to see Remus pointing a huge water gun directly at you.

“WATER FIGHT!!” he screeches, pulling out more guns from the bag and tossing them to everyone.

Logan got a bit wet too, but not nearly as much as you, “Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry, allow me to grab you some towels-“

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just water,” you glare at Remus. “Hopefully,”

“Neither the color or smell indicate that it’s not,”

You chuckle, grabbing a squirter from the ground, “Come on, help me get back at him,”

“I really shouldn’t, I would prefer to stay as dry as possible,”

“Come on,” you grab his hand and pull him up. “Please?”

He stares at you helplessly, searching for an excuse but unable to resist, “Alright,”

You smile, grabbing him another gun and racing across the yard.

Patton starts filling up some water balloons while Roman flings them around, no one can tell whose side he’s on because he’s barely hitting anything. Janus is taking advantage of his extra arms by having a super soaker in each and aiming at literally everyone. Virgil has teamed up with you and Logan and focuses everything he’s got on Remus.

“Roman I must say, your aim is absolutely preposterous,” Logan comments.

“Oh, would you like to try it? I highly doubt you could do any better,”

“Actually, yes,” he grins, taking a water balloon and throwing it directly at Remus’s face.

Everyone’s mouth falls open.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Roman gasps, completely baffled.

“It’s not too difficult, just a few physics calculations and some practice,”

“Can you show me?” you ask, taking another balloon and squinting your eye towards Remus.

“Of course,” he places his hands on your shoulders and straightens out your stance. You desperately hope he doesn’t notice you stiffening and holding your breath from his touch. “The key is to have your arm in line with your eyesight. Even when you pull it back, if you’re not focused the follow through won’t work,”

You nod, gulping a bit and trying not to shake.

“Okay, now try it. It’s alright if you don’t hit him immediately,” his palm stays on your back as you throw it, hitting Remus’s leg.

“I hit him!” you squeal.

“Wonderful! Now we just have to work on aiming a bit higher-“ he steps in front of you as Remus darts a balloon back in your direction. His shirt gets drenched and Remus cackles.

“Oh no, Logan-“

His expression isn’t angry surprisingly. Instead, there’s a fire in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, the face of someone genuinely having fun.

He smirks at you, the way he always does when the gears are turning in his brain.

“Patton, can I see that?” he points towards the hose he’s been using to fill the balloons. Patton nods and Logan gets to work, using all your water guns to build a big canon and positioning it towards Remus. He turns it up to the highest pressure possible and blasts him.

It doesn’t hurt him of course, and even if it did he probably wouldn’t care. He merely falls back laughing, rolling around on the ground and covering himself with dirt and grass.

“Wow,” you sigh, eyes wide.

“You did ask me to help you get back at him, did you not?”

“I most certainly did,”

“Well,” he sets everything down. “I hope I delivered,”

“You did…” your gaze is locked on him. Who knew such a silly water war could make you so much more in love with him, especially with the way his wet shirt clings to him and the droplets on his glasses-

“Are you quite alright?” Logan inquires, concerned.

“Mhmmm,”

“Who wants to make some s’mores?” Patton calls, snatching some firewood. Everyone agrees so he gets it started, wanting to give it time to turn into hot coals. He grabs some crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows from inside and some sticks.

Logan gets towels for everyone and tenderly wraps one around your shoulders. The dampness is still cold, but the sweet gesture warms you up a bit.

Would it be crazy if you told him how you’ve been feeling tonight? Would it be completely irresponsible to flirt with him a bit? It feels wrong, but it feels more right than wrong. You just know he’s the one you’re meant to be with. You can’t imagine yourself with anyone else. He’s your best friend after all, and you’re sure any future partner you could ever have would be threatened by how close you are anyway. If you simply dated each other that wouldn’t be a problem.

But you’re terrified. You can feel your heart pulsing through your fingertips as you hold the marshmallow over the coals. The hot flames make your face burn and you can’t tell the difference between your sweat and the water covering you from earlier. You grow quiet, and Logan notices.

“Is there something wrong?”

Thankfully the other sides are engaged in their own conversation, so they don’t put any attention on you.

“I’m fine, just a bit tired,” you say, pulling your marshmallow away and squishing it between your graham crackers and chocolate.

“Did I mention that you look exquisite today?”

You almost choke on your sandwich, “What?”

“And I assure you our little water detour didn’t change that,”

“Oh, um,” you wipe your mouth with a napkin. “Thank you. You look really good too,”

“I hope that’s alright for me to say, please forgive me if I’ve crossed a line,”

“No!” you shake your head a bit too hard. “I mean, it’s fine. You can say that as much as you want, if that is what you want. Of course you don’t have to,”

Shit.

A smile tugs at his lips, as if he’s actually charmed by your bumbling, “Would you care to go inside? I believe Patton has quite a few card and board games if you’re interested,”

You nod. It’s getting a bit chilly outside anyway, and maybe being alone with him will settle your nerves a bit. Your newly discovered feelings for him aside, he’s always the one person who makes you most comfortable.

He grabs the checkers and sets it up on the table next to the couch, “You can go first,”

You move your first piece and the game begins. He doesn’t hold back of course, he’s not the type to let anyone win on purpose, but he doesn’t rub it in your face either. He makes you smile the entire time and you almost forget how anxious you were before.

That is, until the game finishes and it all comes rushing back. He won, and he looks absolutely adorable. Your stomach is in knots and you just want to look at him this satisfied forever.

“Hey, Logan?”

“Yes?”

“Do you ever wonder if we’d work well in a relationship? Like a romantic one?”

“I…” he considers it, his cheeks flushing a deep pink. “I can’t say I’ve never contemplated the idea. Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering,” you shrug it off, assuming he’ll want to move on from the topic.

“I think we would,” he says confidently, yet still not able to meet your eyes. “If I’m being completely honest, which I assure you I am, I’ve thought about it many times,”

Your heart pounds in your chest.

“You’re wonderful, Y/N. I admire everything about you. You’re everything I want and value in both a friend and a partner, and I daresay even more. If you ever wanted to escalate our relationship to a deeper level, I would oblige immediately. I truly would,”

You don’t really know what to say. He just confessed his affections for you better than you ever could’ve, and quite frankly you don’t think you could top it. It feels like your heart is beating faster and slower at the same time, the relief of knowing and the panic of what happens next. Obviously he wants you to say yes, right?

But all you can think about is how much you want his lips on yours.

You meet his gaze, “If you don’t kiss me right this second I swear I’ll strangle you,”

“I’m sorry?”

“I love you. It took me a long time to realize, but I know it now. I love you,” you release all the nervous energy. “Now please just kiss me,”

“I…I love you too,” his eyes dart around your face and his grin lights up. It’s as if he can’t take you all in not matter how hard he tries. Nothing in the universe could ever compare to you or what he feels for you.

He kisses you gently at first, resting his hand on your neck. His lips taste like chocolate from the s’mores and they’re perfectly warm.

He pulls away, “Is this okay? Is this what you want?”

“Oh my gosh yes please don’t stop,” you pull him back to you, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him harder. He becomes more self-assured as you go, running his fingers through your hair and holding your waist to bring you closer.

He apologizes when his glasses hit you, but you don’t care. All you can focus on is the fact that his body is on yours and you’re finally kissing the love of your life.

After a while you fall back on the cushions breathless. Logan props himself up on his elbows and grasps your hands, holding them to his cheeks. You smile up at him, giggling a bit.

“I can’t believe we waited so long to do this,” he says, kissing your palm.

You smirk, “Well let’s not wait to do it again,”

#logan sanders x reader #sanders sides x reader #logan sanders #sanders sides #ts logan

[snarkwrites]

-- about my writing --

I’m currently taking requests / asks for headcanons [ can be either NSFW or just in general or a specific idea ] or fluff/filth Alphabet letters. These are the only requests I plan on taking. If you send me prompts / one shot ideas.. I won’t do them, sorry.

To see what the questions are for the fluff / filth alphabet, see [this post]

[ To my thots anon whomst I love with every cell in my body... Your thots are all going to fall under NSFW headcanons so please.. By all means.. Feel free to send me all the thots you want because I really really really really really enjoy writing them!!! Also, you can find the thots you’ve sent me on my nsfw masterlist, they’re not going anywhere. They were so good I had to add them to a masterlist somehow, I couldn’t resist. At everyone else out there, the same applies to you guys.]

So.. Here’s the thing.. I’ve decided that I’m going to be taking 3 kinds of requests. Those are as follows: Headcanons { filthy, fluffy or themed specifically at your choosing }, fluffy alphabet and filthy alphabet letters. These are the only kinds of request I answer so don’t send me prompts / one shot requests or ideas unless I specifically say otherwise.

Bearing the above in mind, I have some guidelines.

I’m only accepting headcanons (nsfw / fluff / specific theme &/or reader), fluffy or filthy alphabet letters. If you send me one shot ideas or prompts, I’m going to delete them because I don’t do one-shots.

One character per ask. I don’t care how many asks you send. But I ask that you only send one character per ask because that makes things a lot more simple for me.

You can send up to 4 letters in each ask if you’re asking for either version of the alphabet. Be sure to let me know whether you want filth or fluff or a mix of both. IE, you could send me something like this; character name - a, b {filth} & j v {fluff}. I’m not saying your ask has to look exactly like this but it does need to clearly state which version you’re asking for. The format I just did above was just the easiest way that came to mind for me.

The more precise you are with the headcanon requests you send, the better I can tailor them to you. If you just want an overall NSFW headcanon or overall fluff, that’s totally fine. But if you want a specific scenario ( friends to lovers, date night, weddings, the sky is the limit here) you need to tell me that. The same goes for if you want a specific reader (POC, plus size, sick, shy, virgin, imprint, etc) then I need to know that. It’s like I said.. The more specifics you give me, that’s more I have to work from.

As far as headcanons go, the things I won’t write are rape, incest / huge age gaps between reader / character. I’ll only write abuse if someone is getting their just desserts at the hands of character on readers behalf. Any asks containing rape / incest / huge age gaps are going to be deleted.

All asks must come to my inbox. I don’t take requests through DM or in comments on a post. If it helps, my anon is on, so you can request to your hearts content.

If the ask box is closed, this means I’m currently not taking headcanon or fluff/filth alphabet requests. This will also be noted on my blog bio and possibly a post stating why/for how long. Anything sent in after the ask box is closed will either be gotten to the next go around or it’ll be deleted, depending on the situation.

First of all... My content is meant strictly for adults. I do write some things that people underage can safely  read, but that is not always the case. I realize that I can’t stop minors from reading my work, but I can tell you outright that I’d rather you skip over it if you’re underage and it clearly states that it’s not written for anyone underage. Again.. I can’t do anything to stop minors from reading my NSFW content beyond just choosing never to post writing on the internet. And I don’t plan on stopping, so.. yeah.

I put warnings on everything. Reading those will definitely save you time and upset. If you keep reading something I’ve written and it upsets you in any way, I’m sorry but I can’t help. I warned you. You chose to take the risk -and most likely, you chose to skip the warning I gave before the post even started... It’s strictly on you now. It’s out of my hands. Any complaints or things of that nature are gonna be laughed at and deleted out of my inbox because I’m not here to argue or censor myself. I’m not your parents, just a peer. If you as a minor choose to look at me, an adult adjacent person, as an authority figure of any sort... First of all, why? Ya’ll.. no.. please don’t. I’m a hot mess, okay? To look at me like any trust worthy authority figure is... A huge error on your own part. Secondly, please don’t. I’m here to enjoy my favorite fandoms / post content for them. I’m not here to please people / censor myself and my content to make everyone else happy... Let me repeat. I put warnings on everything I post. If you keep reading and you read something you’re not supposed to this is now solely your own problem. Sorry, I guess?

I’ve seen other adults saying that they block minors on here. While I’m not gonna do that.. I will not tag minors in my NSFW content knowingly. If I find out you’re a minor and I’m posting something NSFW for a fandom you’ve asked to be tagged in, I will not be tagging you. Sorry. As much as I say I’m not here to parent you and I’m just your peer and you need to think of me like that instead, I’m also not willing to risk anything, either. I’m truly sorry in advance.

While I’m talking about tagging people / my taglist...If you want me to tag you in my writing, you need to be on my taglist. The taglist can be found [ here ] or you can dm / send an ask telling me you want to be added and I will be more than happy to do so. Don’t be afraid to ask me. I don’t mind at all! 

Every now and then, I’ll tag my friends in things I write. If I tag you in something and you don’t want me to, let me know. I won’t do it anymore. I’m not here to overwhelm or annoy anyone and I don’t want to come off as pushy, either. SO.. if you’re getting tagged or whatever and you want me to stop tagging you, all you have to do is let me know.

If you’re not on my tag list (or I don’t know you well enough to know whether you’d potentially want to read something) I will not be tagging you. If you’re a minor and I know for sure/think  you are and it’s smut, I will definitely not be tagging you.

Content I’m not willing to write or  you probably won’t find here: Incest and Rape. Those are my hard no’s. Just the thought of writing something like that makes me feel gross. I’m also not going to be writing huge age gaps in romantic stories either. (the closest I’ll come is like.. 18/19 and up to 24...) I mean absolutely no offense against people who can and do write things like this, I just can’t? 

American Horror Story; tate langdon, ben harmon, kit walker, kyle, dandy mott, jimmy darling, james patrick march, michael langdon, xavier plympton and night stalker.

Arrowverse; oliver queen, john diggle, slade wilson/deathstsroke, barry allen, cisco ramon, ray palmer, mick rory.

Bands / Celebrities; ask before sending because I haven’t done many of these and I’m still adjusting… Off the top of my head I’ve written for / feel comfortable with Nick Groff (ghost adventures), Jon Bernthal.. There are lots of others but alas, I’d stretch this out so badly if I added too many more names.

Boondock Saints movie; Connor Macmanus Murphy Macmanus & Rocco.

Breakfast Club movie; John Bender.

Castle Rock tv series; Dennis Zalewski, The Kid.

Criminal Minds; Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Hotch, Tobias Hankel & Adam/Amanda.

Crybaby Movie; wade walker.

CSI tv series; Greg Sanders, Nick Stokes, Warrick Brown, Gil Grissom, Tim Speedle, Ryan Wolfe, Eric Delko, Danny Messer, Don Flack, Mack Taylor.

Dazed & Confused movie; Randal Pink Floyd, Mike Newhouse, Ron Slater, Fred O’Bannion and Kevin Pickford.

DC Cinematic; Digger Harkness.

Detroit Rock City movie; Tripp, Lex, Hawk and Jam.

Fast & The Furious series; Dom Toretto, Han.

Four Brothers movie; Angel, Jack or Bobby Mercer

Friday Night Lights tv series; Tim Riggins, ,Matt Saracen, Landry Clarke, Bobby Riggins, Vince.

General Hospital tv series; Sonny Corinthos, Jason Morgan, Johnny Zacarra, Dante Falconeri, several other of the guys on here…

Ghostbusters 80′s version movie; Ray Stantz, Egon Spengler , Peter Venkman, Winston Zeddemore.

Gotham tv series; Jerome Valeska, Jim Gordon, Joker, Riddler.

Harry Potter movies; Sirius Black, Severus Snape, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Neville Longbottom.

Horror movies various; Billy Loomis/Scream, Charlie Walker/Scre4m, Wade/ House of Wax, Tom Hanninger/My Bloody Valentine + others. Trust me, there are... So many others. I just didn’t have the brain power to think of them all at the moment.

Law & Order tv series; Barba, Carisi, Stabler.

Lucifer tv series; Lucifer Morningstar.

Luke Cage; Luke Cage, Shades Alvarez.

Marvel Cinematic; Bruce Banner/hulk, Captain america/steve rogers, bucky barnes/winter soldier, eric killmonger, hawkeye/clintbarton, thor, loki, pietro maximoff, venom/eddie brock, starlord/peter quill, ironman/tony stark, wolverine.. I’m a marvel ho.

Mayans MC tv series; Angel Reyes and Ez Reyes.

NCIS tv series; Anthony Dinozzo, Timothy McGee, Marty Deeks, Greg Callen.

On My Block tv series; Spooky Diaz.

Punisher tv series; Billy Russo, Frank Castle.

Riverdale tv series; Jughead Jones, FP Jones, Reggie Mantle, Sweetpea, Archie Andrews.

Shameless tv series; Lip Gallagher.

Sons of Anarchy tv series; Jax Teller, Chibs Telford, Clay Morrow, Juice Ortiz, Opie Winston.

Stranger Things tv series; Jonathan Byers, Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Jim Hopper.

Star Wars movie series; Han Solo, Kylo Ren, Ben Solo, Poe Dameron, Finn.

Supernatural tv series; Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Crowley, Benny Lafitte, Kevin Tran.

Teen Wolf tv series; Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Derek Hale.

The Crow movie series; Eric Draven and Jimmy Quervo/Wicked Prayer.

The Lost Boys movie series; Edgar Frog, Allen Frog, David, Michael Emmerson, Sam Emmerson.

The Outsiders book/movie; Two Bit Matthews, Dally Winston, Darry Curtis, Soda Pop Curtis, Johnny Cade, Steve Randle.

The Walking Dead tv series; Daryl Dixon, Shane walsh, Rick Grimes, Negan, Glenn Rhee.

The Vampire Diaries tv series; Klaus Mikaelson, Kai Parker, Kol Mikaelson, Jeremy Gilbert, Damon Salvatore.

Twelve Rounds 3 movie; Detective John Shaw.

Twilight movies/books; Jasper Hale, Emmett Cullen, Jacob Black, Paul Lahote, Embry Call.

I’m gonna be honest here. I post on my own time, at my own pace. Some days I post constantly, sometimes it’s days or even weeks, and occasionally, a month before I post anything. So.. Now ya know.

If I’m not on and posting, odds are I’m busy, taking a break or whatever. But I’ll come back! I always do. 

Basically, what I’m saying here is I have no set posting schedule. At all. I post what I want when I’m in the mood to do so. Just something to keep in mind when you’re asking for headcanons / nsfw alphabet letters with characters.

#about the writer #psa #multifandom writer #multifandom about page

[izzy-b-hands]

Hard Waves At Dawn

A random snapshot with the reader from You Send Me and Freddie. Blame me listening to the album Goths by The Mountain Goats for the first time tonight for this one. I try and save certain albums until the right moment, and it seems this was the right one for it. Listen to it, in order, to get the vibe of this fic. Title comes from the song on there titled ‘Wear Black.’

Ngl, very deep in my own mind and thoughts of the future as I wrote this. It probably shows, but that’s par the course for my writing now I fear lol. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“I won’t make you come home.” 

The rain poured, and you jumped at the loudness of the thunder. “You shouldn’t have to.” 

Freddie shrugged, and scooted closer to you on the stone bench. The park was empty except for the two of you; everyone else had run home as soon as the rain had started to come down fast enough to hurt. 

“That’s it?” 

He nodded. “I know that, and you know it. What more is there to say about it?” 

“Maybe not more to say about that,” you replied. “But what about everything else?” 

You let his arm slip around you and pull you close. “I think you need to talk about that. Or you wouldn’t have gone running out here before I was even awake.” 

You had left the flat you shared with Freddie at five in the morning, in a daze. You weren’t sure exactly what had set it off this time, and it was an impulse you usually ignored or were able to repress. The one that made you panic for the future, left you pacing the flat over things that were arguably not worth worrying about as much as you did, made you feel like taking night walks that never ended, not caring where you might end up or if you’d make your way back home again.

You were in clothes that normally never left the house, clothes that were Lounge About the House and Do Nothing category. You didn’t look wildly out of place to anyone else, but you knew it was a sign to Freddie.

He didn’t indulge these moments, exactly. He accepted them, and rode them out with you, and occasionally gave advice or distractions if you requested or seemed to need it. But most of the time, it was this. Finally prompting that vat of nonsense and fear and pain and sadness that had settled into some sort of aching black hole in  your chest before you could recall knowing what depression even was, to spill.

“It’s stupid,” you muttered, and he chuckled. 

“Good start.” 

“It is though,” you protested. “This is what I’ve wanted. Stability. I’ve worked towards it since I was like...fourteen. And never had it, never had it, couldn’t reach it, wasn’t qualified for it, couldn’t afford it, all that. And now here it is, and it’s fine, and my dumb fucking head is still like this.” 

He didn’t speak, but took your hand in his, rubbing gently at it with his thumb. 

“What am I waiting for? Why do I feel like the other shoe is going to drop? The shoes are on and tied and I’m waiting to trip. And for what? Why? Why can’t I just be happy all the time? It isn’t always like this, it recedes like the tide but when it comes back I-” 

The rain washes the tears off your face as fast as they can fall. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Freddie asked. “I think a lot of us are doing that, in one way or another.” 

“But it’s like I’m doubting this good thing I have, from you to my job to everything-” 

“Not on purpose,” he interrupted. “The mind clicks along, and doubt is a track it falls on from time to time. I know you don’t seriously doubt us, or your job with the band. Do you know how I know that?” 

You shook your head.

“Because you don’t leap for things that feel like too big of a risk unless you see enough security available in the thing you’re leaping towards. You would never have so much as kept looking my way, or stayed on with us, if you didn’t feel secure despite any little doubts or fears that any rational person might have from time to time.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but he shushed you softly. 

“Y/N. You turned down an ice cream yesterday because you were afraid it might have something you were allergic to in it. We had a full list of ingredients, but because the shop couldn’t verify how current it was, you left without anything. If you can turn away from something that simple, don’t you think you would have been long gone by now, if you had true doubts about anything else in your life right now?” 

“...you make a good point,” you acknowledged. 

“Every now and again,” he smiled, the small shy smile that came around only when he was being vulnerable. He looked even more gorgeous than usual when he wore it. “And you know what?” 

“You have doubts too?” 

“All the fucking time,” he sighed. “The work on the next album alone! You’ve heard me, hell you’ve worked me through some of those fits-” 

“Not fits, exactly,” you interrupted.

“Tantrums?” he asked with a grin.

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you said with a smile. “Or I’ll have to kiss you and replace them with something else.” 

He kissed you anyway, and the scent of his usual cologne mixed with the rain smelled like the home you had always wanted, dreamed of, yearned for, worked so damn hard to get that you couldn’t believe you’d let your mind trap you into any worries about it. 

You leaned into his embrace, wincing only a little as the rain somehow fell harder. “I’m sorry I left without leaving a note or anything. I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“Out of everyone,” Freddie said. “You are one of the few people I don’t worry about leaving me out of the blue. And I could tell last night you were feeling a bit...how to put it? Twitchy isn’t the right word-” 

“Like there was an itch in my brain I couldn’t scratch,” you filled in. 

“Exactly,” Freddie said, pushing his wet hair away from where it just barely touched his forehead. “Were we due for a storm?” 

“Maybe,” you replied. “I certainly was, apparently.” 

“It had been a couple of months,” Freddie nodded. 

“God, you’ve got my depression cycle mapped. We’re domestic,” you laughed. “I love it, though I don’t love that I have something like that you have to keep track of.” 

“Don’t have to keep track of it,” he said. “I do it because I want to make sure you’ve got support whenever it hits. How long did you deal with it alone, or with minimal support? You’ve got me, and the boys, and so many others now. It would be more than a shame, it would be a crime, to care about you and not be mindful of this.” 

He held a hand up before you could speak. “And before you go on with that ‘but I can’t expect others to take care of me all the time’ talk, I know. That’s not our goal, and I think you know that. But I also think you’re afraid of it sometimes, because you’ve not had anything like it before. Support, not to hold you up 24/7, but to help carry you when you need it, and you do the same in return. Equal give and take.” 

You nodded. “You are an exceptionally wise man, you know that?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I try, same as anyone else.” 

“You underestimate yourself with things like this,” you said. “You don’t do it with anything else. The rest of the persona the confidence flows, but you sell yourself short here. You shouldn’t.” 

“You do the same thing,” he said with a smirk. “Can’t argue that anymore than I can, can you?” 

“No wonder we get on so well,” you said. “Perfectly capable until we’re vulnerable in the rain, and then it all melts away.” 

He nods. “It’s nice though, isn’t it? To have someone to let the mask down around so severely. No need to hang onto it, in case someone walks in the room that would make you bring it back up.” 

“It really is,” you sighed. “I think it’s hailing a bit.” 

He brushed a hand through his dampened curls, and melting pea-sized pebbles of ice shook out. “It is definitely hailing.” 

“We should almost definitely go home,” you murmured. “I haven’t seen any lightening, but probably not safe all the same.” 

“You can’t tell me that you’ve never wanted to be out in a storm like this, in one of these moments of yours,” Freddie said. “Why not give it five more minutes?” 

“And if lightening shows up, and hits us?” 

“Then I hope they leave the burned outline of our corpses here on this bench as a memorial,” Freddie said with a cheeky grin. 

“Me too,” you said. “I wouldn’t mind a death and a memorial like that.” 

“Better than some, and certainly as good as some others,” Freddie nodded. “You know you’re going to be fighting a cold off after this, right?” 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “You’ve already bought me cans of my favorite soup, haven’t you?” 

“Two days ago, had Brian pick them up and bring them by,” Freddie replied. “He asked how I could possibly know.” 

“And you told him not to worry about it, and that he’d get it some day?” 

“Bless, you’ve got my most cryptic answers down to a T,” he said. “That was exactly it. Bet you can’t guess the rest of my master plan though.” 

“To make me soup for the next three days, and keep me sat resting on the couch, except for when we’re napping together in the bed?” 

“Almost all of it,” he said. “You missed the bit where I make sure we get a walk outside in. The sun will help, and I know you won’t go out without me.” 

“Thank you,” you said, jumping at an even louder clap of thunder. “There has got to be lightening nearby.” 

“Maybe,” he agreed. “And for what? The soup? That was nothing, really.” 

“All of this,” you said, pressing your face into the wet material of his jacket near his neck. “Taking care of me. Being with me. Loving me despite this stupid shit my brain does, that I can’t always rein in as well as I’d like.” 

“It’s good work,” he said. “Work I like. Because you do the same work for me. It’s steady, and it all evens out, even when everything else is...decidedly less so.” 

 “The ebb and flow of the tide, and the two of us as the typhoon,” you murmured. 

“You should do something with that,” he said. “I like it.” 

“You know I don’t write like that anymore.” 

“But you could. Write it down when we get home, just in case. You never know what you’ll find to do on the side in between tours, after all,” he said, and stood slowly, only to duck down as larger hail started to drop hard and fast, as if someone in the sky had overturned a huge bucket of it. “Shall we go now, before you forget it?” 

“I think better we leave so we don’t end up with bruises,” you laughed, taking his hand as you stood. “I’m ready to go home.” 

#text post #LeeH writes #queen band fic #freddie mercury x reader #freddie mercury x male reader

[bucky-iss-bae]

Late night Cocoa (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

A/N: Wow 10 years later and I finally post some new content. How shocking!!! I want to be more active, but wow since finishing university, my brain is tireeeddd but I want to have so many ideas, so please send in any requests. I just want to write more and more, and organise all my writing, and just get my ideas out there, fix my writing, so much talking, I’m so sorry, here's the one-shot. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Fandom: MCU/Marvel 

Prompts: Bucky x Fem!Reader Fluff/Angst Prompts: ‘Hey, hey, calm down they can’t hurt you anymore’ – ‘You have my word’ – ‘Go back to sleep’  

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping and torture - Some Angst I guess

Word count: 1500ish

I want to hopefully write more shit like this to just gain confidence and get better so hope you all enjoy xoxo

Masterlist Fandom list

Everyone knew that being with an Avenger had its negatives. Sure you got on perfectly well with the team, they were all your family. They protected you like their own. But for the outside world seeing this, others saw you as a weakness and took advantage of that. They saw how you are as a family with the team, yet you lived your own life with your own job. You never expected this to be something that would get you caught out, being used as leverage to lure the Avengers in if not all of the Avengers. At least your partner, Bucky Barnes.

You were kidnapped from outside your workplace, taken by ex-hydra agents that wanted to lure The Winter Soldier in, to extract information from him on past hydra missions, information that went up when Hydra got exposed.

They tortured you, they manipulated you, but they all ended up dead. Getting nothing from you, and their plan backfired when The Winter Soldier killed them all with the help of the other Avengers.

None of the Avengers let you out of their sight after this, whilst recovering you were moved into the compound, both you and Bucky sharing his designated room there. Your days consisted of watching others train, making sure their doctors had you all healed up, and Bucky making sure that you were safe.

Being back at work was sometimes proven a bit difficult, someone constantly checking up on you, but you soon got used to it, it wasn’t long after this that you and Bucky moved back to your shared apartment, despite still visiting the compound a lot, your apartment was home. But also where you felt most vulnerable.

In the relationship, you were once the one who helped Bucky through his nightmares. Despite them being rare, you were always there for him, making sure he was alright at night, hugging him when needed, and being the emotional support he often needed after a bad nightmare. They soon lessened and lessened, until he rarely had nightmares. Instead, it was his turn to comfort you, to be there for you.

You woke up in a cold sweat, it was better than the screams, but some nights you still woke up, reminders of what happened on the day they took you in your nightmares. You took a moment to catch your breath feeling restless, scared to see what would happen if you went back to sleep. You looked across at Bucky hoping you didn’t wake up and saw him sound asleep.

You took a moment and smiled, grateful to have him in your life, after all he’s been through, the few hours you were taken must’ve only felt like minutes compared to what he went through. Yet he was able to get through it stronger on the other side.

You were careful not to wake up when you quietly crawled out of bed, grabbing your robe and putting on your slippers you walked through to your kitchen and started on making some hot chocolate for yourself. Once you added the final few marshmallows you went to sit on your window ledge, looking across at the city, you could hear how busy the streets still were. You breathed in the fresh air, it felt nice against your skin, despite your hot chocolate warming you up, it was more comforting.

A few moments later you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, you leaned back into Bucky, feeling his chin rest on your head,

“I’m offended Sugar, you made some hot cocoa, and you didn’t even make me some. Instead, you take how many, 4 marshmallows. Wow, three of them are pink, really offended”

A small smile made its way onto your lips, “Actually it was 5 marshmallow, I couldn’t help myself.”

He felt his chest vibrate against your back, “Wow, ok, I see how it is. 5 marshmallows. And there’s still no inviting me”

“I didn’t want to wake you” You mumbled, “But I’m more than happy to share,” You said holding the mug up,

He took some and had a few sips which led to him nearly burning his tongue,

“Warning would’ve been nice”

You looked down and smiled at that, “Sorry Buck. But what are you doing up?”

“What are you doing up?” He retaliated,

You shifted your body to turn and look at him, “I... I had another nightmare. I woke up and couldn’t sleep” You admitted,

He nodded, “You know, I’m here for you right? Especially when you have nightmares. I know what it’s like, and I know what it’s like feeling alone, you’ve got me here whenever you need me. Even if I am asleep, just wake me up”

“I know but I feel so stupid and weak Bucky. I hate it. If it was anyone else, anyone they would’ve somehow been fine and fought their way out. But instead I couldn’t even walk out of there myself, and I just... I’m scared”

“Shhhh... Hey, Hey they can’t hurt you anymore. No one can” he mumbled against your head before kissing it, “You’re not weak. You’re not weak Y/N. It’s not something you could’ve controlled, you aren’t trained like anyone else, and maybe that’s a good thing because you’re the purest person out there, you don’t have any... any red in your ledger. Instead, you’ve got a whole load of people who would do anything for you. So don’t feel weak, or stupid because what happened was inevitable. They went after the most important person to me to try and get to me”

You couldn’t help but smile slightly at that, although his reminders were consistent, the feeling in your chest sometimes made you wonder whether he would want someone like you, someone whos not an Avenger, someone who’s not as capable as everyone else in his life is.

“I know that I’m weak Buck. I know compared to you and everyone else I’m a... a liability”

He scoffed at that, “You’re definitely not a liability. Don’t ever think like that Y/N. You’re too pure for your own good. Sometimes I wonder how someone as good as you, has ended up with someone like me. But then you reminded me day in, day out why I was worthy. So let me remind you, each and every day”

The two of you rarely spoke about the times where you helped him, and his low points, how you were his backbone. There was constant underlining of it, especially as you helped him. The two of you supported one another, helped one another grow, and right now he made you feel like you were worth it all.

“You promise? You’re not just saying this”

“I promise, every day I’ll remind you.”

“Thank you, Buck” You whispered, leaning your head into his arm, “I love you”

“I love you too Sugar” He whispered, “I mean, I’m willing to forgive you for not inviting me out here for hot cocoa so that’s a lot of forgiving”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that and took a sip, it was slightly cooler than before, the marshmallows nicely gooey.

“You want me to make you some?” You whispered,  

“Nah” He murmured, “Nah, if I want some I’ll just take yours,” He said reaching around to grab your mug,

Both you and Bucky gelled well together, it was something you never thought you would get, someone so supportive, and someone who loved you just as much as you loved them.  

The two of you sat in silence for a while, enjoying one another's company before it started to get a bit chilly.

“You ready to go back to sleep?” he asked you,

You nodded, “Yeah, sorry Bucky”

“Why you apologising for?” he asked a small smile on his face,

You shrugged, “For keeping you up”

He shook his head, “Don’t let me start getting all romantic on you doll, I’ll start spouting out about how as long as I’ve got you by my side, I don’t care where I am, what I’m doing, or how tired I am, I’ll be happy to have you there with me.”

You laughed a little at that and he took your hand helping you back in, you dropped the empty mug in the kitchen sink, he grabbed a pink marshmallow and popped it into his mouth before the both of you went back to your room. When you got into bed you could feel yourself starting o overthink again, but instead, he pulled you in, his metal arm wrapping around your waist. You smiled because this surprisingly gave you more comfort than anything, you cuddled further into him and felt him kiss the back of your head once more,

“Go to sleep Doll. Wake me if you need me”

With that being said you drifted off into a seamless night’s sleep knowing you were safe.

A/N: Still working on improving, and hella fics pending. Planning a series based on our main man barnes, so hopefully, that and another will be starting soonnnn xoxo 

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #The Winter Soldier x Reader #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #Bucky Barnes Imagine #Bucky Barnes Drabble #Barnes x Reader #MCU #marvel cinematic universe #Fluff #Angst

[emospritelet]

second list prompt : 31) “Life is not a fairytale. If you lose your shoe at midnight, you’re drunk.”

Last time, Belle managed to tell Gold she was pregnant, and Gold managed to say the wrong thing.

Please send me a prompt from this list or this list if you want me to hurt the babies :)

[Ch 1] [AO3]

Belle ignored the phone when Gold called her back, sitting on the couch with her knees pressed together as she glared at his number flashing up at her. It gave her a strange sense of power to be the one sitting in cold silence when he was desperate to speak to her, and she told herself it was fair payment for all the nights she had cried alone after their break-up. Nights in which she suspected he had not lost a wink of sleep over her heartbreak. Eventually he appeared to give up on calling, the phone letting out a chime to indicate that she had a new message. She glanced at it, curling her lip at his curt request for a call, but opened up her contact list and entered his number. It wasn’t as though she could avoid speaking to him forever, and someone else might have to call him when she had the baby, so she needed his contact details to hand rather than simply burned into her brain along with the sound of his voice and the memory of his lips on her skin. Saving his number under the name Grade A. Arsehole gave her a certain petty satisfaction.

She dropped the phone into her bag, sitting back with a sigh and running a hand over the curve of her belly.

“Well,” she said. “That was your dad. Here’s hoping you don’t inherit his nature.”

She wiped the last few tears from her cheeks, taking a few calming breaths, and was surprised to find that she felt better for having spoken to him, however briefly. Odd, that it was his comment about the baby’s parentage that stopped her crying. Perhaps it had made her too angry to remember how scared she was. Perhaps rage was the best way to get through their interactions. She shook her head, slumping back against the cushions. No. It wasn’t good for her to hold so much anger. Heartbreak was more than enough to cope with.

Glancing at her watch, she sighed and pushed to her feet. A study session in the library awaited, and it would likely be a late one. She regretted not taking her friend Emma up on the offer of dinner beforehand, but she had decided that she couldn’t put off telling Gold any longer, and knowing what she had to do had stolen her appetite. Her belly still griped, but she knew she had to eat for the baby’s sake, and so she made a cheese and tomato sandwich, wrapping it in a paper napkin to eat on the way to the library.

She had not been two months into her Master’s degree in library science when she found out she was pregnant. Coincidentally, that had also been the day she met Emma, who had offered comfort when she found Belle weeping in the university toilets. Emma was twenty-seven, blonde-haired and pretty, and had an eight-year old son with her husband Neal. The three of them were crammed into a small two-bed apartment, but they were a happy little family, and Belle considered herself lucky to have them as friends. Emma was a mine of information on pregnancy and childbirth, and had already given Belle a lot of Henry’s old things, including a crib and stroller that Belle would never have been able to afford. She also made Belle think that perhaps raising a child alone wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world; Neal had been in prison when Emma gave birth, and had missed the first eighteen months of Henry’s life, a fact that he had regretted ever since. It had been Neal that had encouraged Belle to call Gold and tell him that he had a child on the way. Belle still wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing in that regard, but it was too late to back out now.

When she reached the library, Emma was sheltering by the entrance, a beanie hat pulled down over her blonde curls and a padded coat keeping the bitter wind from her.

“Oh good, you’re here, I was freezing my ass off,” she said, and tilted her head to the side. “You okay? Did you do it?”

“Yeah,” said Belle tiredly.

“And?”

“Well, I told him.”

“What did he say?”

Belle sighed.

“He asked me if I was sure it was his,” she said dryly. “So I hung up on him.”

Emma winced.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

Belle pushed at the double doors, and Emma followed her in.

“Did he call back?”

“Yeah, several times.”

“You ignored him, right?”

“How’d you guess?”

“It’s what I’d do.”

Their footsteps echoed in the corridor, several students sweeping past them with books in their arms, and Belle turned into the main library area, where tables were pushed together and quiet group study was allowed. Stacks of books reached up towards the ceiling, carpets cushioning their steps, and she and Emma found an empty table, shrugging off coats and getting out books.

“So, how did you guys leave things?” asked Emma quietly, as she opened up her laptop. Belle pulled a face.

“We didn’t,” she said. “I was too angry to speak to him after that, so I - I guess I’m gonna have to call him tomorrow, or something. I needed time to think. Hearing his voice was…”

She shrugged uncomfortably, and Emma nodded.

“Still hurts, huh?”

“Yeah,” said Belle quietly. “Does it ever stop?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” Emma wrinkled her nose. “It would help if you weren’t still in love with the guy.”

“I am not!” protested Belle, making some nearby students frown. She lowered her voice, leaning towards Emma, who was grinning. “I’m not, but - well, I guess it just brought it all back, that’s all. Back to when I thought we might have something. It’s - it’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid,” said Emma gently. “If he’s too much of an asshole to see how amazing you are, he doesn’t deserve you anyway.”

“He doesn’t want me,” said Belle, feeling a stab of pain. “But that’s beside the point. It’s not about what he deserves. It’s about our child.”

“What do you think he’ll do?”

“I don’t know.” She slumped on the desk, chin resting on her folded arms. “I thought I knew him, right up until he ripped my heart out. Now, though…”

She shrugged, and Emma gave her a sympathetic look.

“You still think he’ll try to take the baby from you, huh?” she said knowingly.

“I - I worry about it, yeah,” admitted Belle. “I don’t exactly have my life together right now, do I?”

“You have your own place—”

“I have a one-bed on the third floor in a building where the elevator doesn’t work.”

“—and you’re studying for a Master’s degree!” went on Emma. “You have your life way more together than I did when I had Henry!”

“Yeah, well.” Belle sat up, pulling a face. “We’ll see if that’s good enough.”

“When are you gonna call him?”

“I don’t know.” She ran her hands over her face. “I kind of like the fact that he doesn’t know where I am and has to wait for me to call him. Is that petty?”

“Petty as hell, but I think you’re entitled.” said Emma. “Guy was an asshat.”

“Yeah,” sighed Belle. “Yeah, he absolutely was.”

Emma put her head to the side, rolling a pencil between her fingers.

“You think he’s seeing anyone else?”

Belle felt a sharp stab of jealousy at the thought, and told herself not to be an idiot.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t care, either.”

“Uh-huh.” Emma sounded unconvinced. “You might want to practice that one in front of the mirror before you say it to his face, honey.”

“I mean it!”

“Sure you do.”

Belle stuck out her tongue, and Emma bopped her on the nose with the end of the pencil, grinning.

“Anyway, I have more important things on my mind than worrying about who Alex might be dating,” said Belle glumly. “Like the fact that I’ll be giving birth in a couple of months. I can’t believe how fast the time goes. This time last year I was happy. I was in love, I had my whole future ahead of me. And now—”

“Now you have a different future,” acknowledged Emma. “But it’ll be awesome in different ways. Believe me.”

“I guess.” Belle folded her arms, leaning on the table again. “Maybe I was naive, thinking my first love would be some sort of - of - fairytale romance with a happy ever after.”

“Life is not a fairytale,” said Emma bluntly, waving the pencil at her. “If you lose your shoe at midnight, you’re drunk.”

Belle giggled.

“Can’t remember what that’s like,” she said, and Emma sniffed.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I got you covered. As soon as you’re up for it after the baby’s born, it’s girls’ night, okay? You, me, and enough booze to choke a horse. We’ll leave Neal looking after the kids.”

Belle laughed harder, and opened up her laptop.

“Okay,” she said. “You’re on.”

x

Gold had slept poorly, rising early and putting on a pot of coffee. He drank it seated on his back porch while he thought over his plans for the day. Belle had not called back, and he was moving back and forth between anxious concern and seething anger. He needed to find her. He needed to go to Boston. Which meant that he needed her address, and the one person he thought might have it was the last man he wanted to speak to.

Moe French had been surprisingly punctual with his rent payments since Belle had left town, which meant that Gold rarely had to interact with him. He prepared himself for the occasion by donning his three-piece armour, fine black pinstriped wool with a charcoal grey shirt and a tie in silk the colour of gunmetal. The two men had detested one another long before Moe had discovered Gold was sleeping with his daughter, and the manner of their break-up had only strengthened that dislike. Gold rubbed a hand over his freshly-shaven chin, remembering the punch Moe had given him the night before Belle had left town for good. It had hurt, but not as much as Belle’s final words, or the knowledge that he had pushed her away forever. He had deserved every bit of pain.

Shoving the memories away with a ruthless thrust, he took a final look in the mirror, straightening the knot in his tie as he shook back his hair, and drew on his overcoat before looping a cashmere scarf around his neck to cut the wind. The morning was fine, if bitter, so he slipped on a pair of dark glasses before heading out into the cold air of early spring.

When he reached the town, Granny’s Diner was already busy with customers drinking cups of the strong, bitter coffee and wolfing down fried eggs and bacon. The florist’s shop was open, Moe French setting out buckets of roses and carnations in a stand outside, red and yellow blooms tumbling together in a riot of cheerful colour. His eyes narrowed as Gold approached.

“Rent’s not due until next week,” he said curtly, and Gold showed his teeth.

“Oh, I’m not here for the rent.”

“Then we’ve got nothing to say to one another, have we?”

Moe stomped into the shop, and Gold followed, cane tapping against the floor. The interior smelled pleasant, of green plants and fragrant flowers, and he took his time, his stride almost a swagger by the time he reached the cash register. Moe was glowering at him from behind it, baseball cap pulled down over his cropped hair, thick fingers twitching on the counter, as though he wanted to put them around Gold’s throat. He was a tall, somewhat thickset man, with the baggy-eyed look of one who drank too much and had an aversion to green vegetables and exercise. Gold folded his hands over the cane handle, allowing himself a tiny smirk for no other reason than it would annoy Moe, and was rewarded with a scowl.

“What do you want?” asked Moe aggressively.

“I was wondering if you’d heard from your daughter,” said Gold.

He kept his tone careless, but watched sharply from behind the glasses. Moe’s nostrils flared, his jaw protruding a little.

“What’s it to you?” he snapped. “I told you to stay away from her!”

“Yes, well, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” said Gold quietly. “You see, I believe she left town with something of mine. Something very valuable. I’d like it back.”

Moe’s expression changed from angry to cautious.

“She didn’t say anything to me,” he said gruffly. “Last I heard she was heading out of town on some trip with her boyfriend. New York, I think.”

“Right.” Gold nodded slowly. “In that case, I’ll trouble you for her address. You know, for when she gets back from her - trip.”

Moe gave him an unpleasant smile.

“If you’re so sure she has something of yours, Gold, how about you call her and ask for it yourself?” he said. “I’m not being your bloody lackey. And I’m definitely not telling you where she lives!”

Gold shook his head slowly, tutting under his breath.

“You remember how unpleasant I can be when crossed, Mr French, I’m sure,” he said, and Moe curled his lip.

“You’re unpleasant every fucking time I see you,” he said. “Hit me with that bloody cane all you want, but the best decision my daughter ever made was leaving town, and I’m not gonna help you find her, okay?”

“You think you can keep me from what’s rightfully mine, do you?” snapped Gold, and Moe snorted.

“Seems to me you take whatever the hell you want, and screw the consequences,” he said. “Why don’t you just let her go? She’s moved on with her life, and you’re here, stuck in the past, doing what you always do. Slithering around town like a fucking parasite waiting for a host to latch onto.”

Gold gave him a twisted smile.

“I suppose you’d know all about that.”

“Insult me all you like,” said Moe. “Won’t make me give you what you want. You don’t change. You’re just a selfish piece of shit, Gold, like you’ve always been.”

“And you’re what?” drawled Gold. “Father of the Year? Must have escaped my notice.”

“Believe it or not I’ve only ever wanted what was best for her,” said Moe roughly. “For all the bloody thanks I got.”

“As much as it may pain you to hear it, that’s what I wanted too,” said Gold coldly, and Moe let out a hollow laugh.

“Bullshit!” he snapped. ”You’re not interested in anything that doesn’t turn a profit! If Belle’s dumb enough to let you back in, that’s her problem. I’m not being a party to it, is all. Now either buy something, or get the hell out.”

Gold wanted to grind his teeth, but instead he nodded curtly, turning on his heel and striding swiftly from the shop. There were other ways to find Belle.

Stepping out into the sunlight, he headed for his shop, feeling a strange sort of relief as he closed the door behind him and headed through to the dark quiet of the back room. He pulled off the glasses, slipping them into the pocket of his overcoat, and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that stood next to the painted silk screen he had never managed to sell. Eyes flashing with anger, jaw tight, hair hanging around his face, streaks of silver at his temples. Exactly how Belle had left him, when she had walked out of his life and dragged his shattered heart behind her on the road. He had tried to go on as though it had never happened, as though they had never happened. Perhaps Moe French was right. Perhaps he would never change.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, checking to see if Belle had called before dialling her number again. This time it went straight to voicemail without ringing, and he growled under his breath. She was avoiding him. So be it. He called his associate Mr Dove instead, asking him to work his usual magic with the few details he had on Belle and her whereabouts. As he hung up, he glanced at his reflection again, his mouth twisting. Belle had moved on, had gone on with her life just as he had wanted her to. Perhaps it was time for him to make some changes of his own.

Nodding to himself, he tugged the overcoat around himself again and left the shop, heading up the road past the diner before turning off into one of the side streets. Rapunzel’s was his regular hair salon, and if his favourite stylist Ivy was there, he would see if she could fit him in. Perhaps a new look could give him a fresh perspective. A new start. A new life. It was time to stop dwelling on the past

x

Belle’s day had not gone well.

It had started with her waking late due to forgetting to set an alarm, and in her panic burning the toast she was making for a quick breakfast. Swearing under her breath, she had thrown the burnt toast away and gulped down some tea before hurrying to the bathroom to brush her teeth. It was then that she had found a leak coming from her toilet, a pool of water slowly spreading outward around the base and soaking into the mat she had laid over the linoleum flooring. She had called the landlord, who promised to send someone out to fix it, and she had run back into the bedroom to get dressed. Her belly seemed to have grown in the night, and she needed to do laundry, so the only thing that fitted was a pair of denim dungarees. Muttering curses at everything she could think of, she pulled them on over a white T-shirt before quickly dragging a brush through her hair and twisting it up into a knot. There was no time for make-up, but by that point she had been past caring, and so she had rushed out of the apartment.

Lack of breakfast made it hard to concentrate on her studies, and she was snappy and exhausted even before discovering that she had forgotten to bring the lunch she had left in the fridge the night before. It meant that she would have to dip into her meagre supply of money to buy something from the cafeteria. It was tempting to slink back home, crawl into bed and pretend the day was over, but the paper that was due wouldn’t write itself, and so she trudged to the library, trying to concentrate while worrying over whether her apartment had flooded.

It was after six when she was done, and she packed up her things with a sigh, desperately tired, hungry, and wanting to burst into tears. The baby had been kicking, which usually made her smile, but which was only reminding her that she still had to deal with its father. She had kept her phone on silent, but Gold had called half a dozen times or more already, and she knew she would have to speak to him eventually. Holding a conversation with him while tired, stressed and hungry didn’t seem to be the best course of action, and so she decided to leave it until the following day. She made her way back to the apartment, swearing when she saw that the elevator was still broken, and trudged up three flights of stairs to her floor.

When she entered the apartment, it was very obvious that the plumber the landlord had promised to send had not been there, and Belle growled under her breath as she threw her bag of books onto the couch. The laundry hamper was overflowing, so she needed to deal with that. She also needed to take a shower, as she had not had time that morning. At least dinner was a no-brainer; she could eat the lunch she had prepared. She decided to ignore the laundry until she felt able to cope with it, and so she went into the bathroom, frowning at the leak that was still spreading outwards from the toilet, and turning on the water. There was a dull, ominous clunk from the pipes, and Belle squealed as a jet of water sprayed out from one of the joints, soaking her. She scrabbled at the mixer tap, turning it off.

“Fucking thing!”

She was drenched, the entire front of her dungarees and the T-shirt beneath soaked through. Wet cotton was sticking to her skin and making her shiver, and she wiped water from her face, wanting to scream. First the toilet and now the shower? This day sucks! A knock at the door made her glance around, and she almost sagged with relief. The plumber! Thank God, he can deal with this bloody thing too!

Wiping wet hands on her dungarees, she hurried to the door, quickly peeking through the spy hole. She could see the back of a man’s head, greying hair cropped short above a black coat, and so she unlocked the door, wrenching it open.

“Oh good, you’re here!” she gasped. “I’m kind of having a situation—”

She cut off as the man swivelled on the toes of black, shining shoes to face her, the gleaming shaft of a cane coming to rest between his feet. Belle’s eyes travelled up from his toes, taking in the all-too-familiar three-piece suit and overcoat. He had cut his hair, silvery wisps just brushing the tips of his slightly-pointed ears, his eyes dark brown beads boring into her. Gold’s mouth was set in a grim line, and she felt her heart thump painfully in her chest.

“Miss French,” he said quietly. “It seems we need to have a conversation.”

#fic: twisted fate #rumbelle fic #my fic #rumbelle #ripperblackstaff

[babbushka]

Babbushka’s FAQ

Frequently Asked Questions

Hello everyone!

I thought it might be helpful for you all to see my answers to some frequently asked questions that I receive.

PLEASE CHECK MY BLOG DESCRIPTION TO SEE WHEN I AM ACCEPTING REQUESTS!

1.The Basics

Hello! I’m Babbushka, I’m a fanfic writer for the ADEU (Adam Driver Extended Universe). You can find my fics in my Masterlist, or on my AO3. I have a personal AU/self ship with Flip Zimmerman, which you can hear about or avoid, using the tag ‘personal au’. I am very anti-reylo.  

2. What do you write?

I write reader insert fanfiction for the Adam Driver Character Extended Universe. The characters I write for are:

Kylo Ren in a variety of AUs

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren (Any ‘canon’ Kylo Ren content is from a Canon Divergent!AU that I have, where Kylo has crushed the Resistance and reigns as Supreme Leader with his Empress (You))

Mob!Au

Medieval!AU

Edwardian AU aka BB!Kylo 

Biker Gang!AU

Ancient Emperor!AU 

Bond Villain!AU

Criminal Prosecutor!AU 

Flip Zimmerman 

Pale (from Burn This on Broadway), 

Clyde Logan 

Charlie Barber 

Paterson &, and/or Paul Sevier 

Sevier Twins AU

Various Saturday Night Live characters (like Cameron Bissel lol)

If a character isn’t listed, like Adam Sackler, Matt the Radar Tech, Jude, etc., that means I don’t write for them. Please do not ask me to write a character that is not listed here. 

3. What will you not write?

I will not write reylo, nor do i want any of my writing to be associated with reylo. Please don’t tag my fics as reylo if you reblog them, and please please please don’t insert Rey into the reader, it just makes me so incredibly uncomfortable and the ship fully disgusts me. I also will not write “””bendemption”””, any fics about “””Ben Solo”””, or any fics set in the D/LF canon of TROS. 

I will not write heavy angst (such as breakups or divorce between reader and the character, infidelity/cheating where the character is cheating on reader or vice versa, torture or violence against the reader, MCD/reader death, hurt-no-comfort, dub-con, non-con). I also won’t write ddlg/daddy kink, breeding kink, monster aus, or a/b/o.

4. WHEN IS [INSERT FIC HERE] UPDATING???

Whenever it’s ready to be updated. Please stop asking me this question you guys lol I do this in my free time for fun, I have a lot of factors that affect the timeliness of fic/chapter updates. I am so grateful that people like my writing but I am just one girl who is doing her best. I really appreciate everyone’s patience!

5. Can we send in prompt requests/submissions for Sinday?

YES – please check my description for when I am accepting prompts. Please don’t ask me if I’m accepting prompts if the description says I’m not. I keep it updated, I promise.

While I am always accepting prompt requests or submissions, I reserve the right to deny or delete any prompts I don’t want to write. I will usually always respond to the ask saying that I won’t write it, so you don’t have to wait around for something that never comes, because I do believe in being courteous.

Any prompts that request themes, tropes, kinks, or characters/ships that I have listed above will be deleted and you will be blocked. Please give me the respect of reading through my guidelines, if you wish for me to make content for you.

6. I’m confused about some of the terms you use and events you have on the blog. What’s sinday? Is it different than After Hours or Sleepover? What’s the difference between requests, headcanons, and thots?

Sinday = On the first Sunday of every month I open up prompt submissions. I always make an announcement post when sinday has arrived, and now with the new pin feature i’ll be keeping those announcement posts pinned to the top of the blog when it’s the appropriate day.  If you’re ever unsure, the description at the top of my blod says either “prompts are open!” or “prompts are closed”. When in doubt, just check there and you’ll know if I’m accepting submissions! 

Zannah After Hours = This is usually a part of Sinday, where later in the evening I post the nsfw/smutty content. This means prompts that people have sent in, oneshots that i’ve written of my own accord, and any art i’ve made that I want to share. But Zannah After Hours can happen any day of the week lol, especially during sleepovers. 

Sleepover = A chance for us all to hang out! I reblog a bunch of ask lists and ask games, people send in questions, or they send in asking for advice, or telling us about their day, or anything else they’d like to share. We talk about all sorts of things, it’s a great way for us as a community to just hang out and spend an evening together. I often will like put on a face mask and get snacks or something, or have a movie on in the background to help make it feel like we’re all sleeping over at my house and giggling together! 

Prompt Submissions (also called Imagines) = These are scenarios that you guys send in to me, that you want me to write. It’s usually only a sentence, an idea you guys have, and then I get inspired by that and write out anywhere from like 500-1k words based around the idea. These can be sweet, silly, angsty, or smutty! For example: “what would happen if Flip heard someone catcalling you?”

Headcanon requests = These are topics you guys send in that you’d like for me to go into some detail on in a casual way. It’s not fully fleshed out prose writing, but is instead a series of bullet points listing how I think the characters would respond to a scenario, or how they feel about a topic. For example: In what ways does Pale show he loves you?

Thots/General Shenanigans = These are just opinions that you guys have that you want to share with the world! It’s not expecting writing from me, it’s just you guys shouting out into the void and us all shouting back! For example: Clyde Logan is so thicc and I want to climb him like a tree.

7. Do you have a taglist for when you upload new writing?

Yes! Please see the link in my description, which will take you to a google form. You can select which characters you’d like to be notified for, as well as what type of writing (chapter fics/oneshots/prompt fills). 

8. Can you help me develop ideas for my fic?

While I am very flattered that you would consider me, I’m going to have to respectfully decline. I spend so much time developing ideas for my own professional writing and my hobby fanfic, that my brain tends to be fried and I’m of no help to anyone lol

9. Will you be my beta author?

Again, while I am very flattered, I will have to decline. Editing takes up most of my own free time, and I’m afraid I’m fried by the time I would be able to edit your stories.

10. Do you do RP threads?

Generally speaking, no.

11. Can I send you writing that I’ve done through the inbox/submissions box?

No. While I am flattered that you’d like to share writing with me, I really prefer to be tagged in a post you’ve made yourself, rather than posting your writing for you. You can tag my directly via the @ function, or you can use any of the following in the # section of the post:

for babbushka

userbabbushka

babstracks

I track these tags so if you include any of them, it’ll show up on my feed :)

Please understand that just because you tag me in something, doesn’t mean I’ll automatically share it. I only reblog writing I really enjoy, because I’m not really willing to compromise my personal standards lol. That’s not to say that if I don’t share your writing that it’s bad!! It’s just not for me, and that’s okay :)  

12. Do you have a masterlist?

Yes! I have compiled an ultimate masterlist that has links to my individual character masterlist posts. You can find those here, or via the link in my description if you’re on mobile, or via the link on my blog if you’re on desktop! 

13. I’m not sure if you’ve written this before but -- 

Please, please, please check the masterlists before sending in something if you’re unsure. Chances are, I’ve written it and you can read it right away, rather than wait for me to tell you it’s already been posted 6 months ago lol <333

#faq #frequently asked questions #babbushka's faq #updated faq

[katiekat1321]

She is a Stark, after all...

Bucky Barnes X Stark! Reader

2203 words

A/N: My brain has finally allowed me to actually finish a fic idea, so here it is! I hope you enjoy it! I’ll also be finding a prompt list to reblog and you can send requests in because my brain isn’t liking the ideas I had originally thought up so if you have an idea send it to me and I’ll see what I can do!

The team was split up all across the world this week. Nick Fury had gotten a major lead on Hydra bases in Europe and Asia that they had been entirely unaware of until now. They wanted to move fast so they sent small teams to different bases. Nat, Sam, Steve, and Thor were somewhere in Asia; Meanwhile, Wanda, Vision, Rhodey, and your dad, Tony were in Europe.

You and Bucky were both stuck in New York City and not allowed to go on away missions. Bucky was grounded because he still was worried he wasn’t mentally stable enough to handle a Hydra mission and you were grounded because your father was still not ready send you out onto the battlefield. You had been training in hand to hand combat for years with Nat and you had weaponry specially made for you, but still he was worried.

Not that you minded being stuck alone together. The two have you had started a secret relationship that only Steve and Nat knew anything about. You knew your dad would flip out because even after accepting Bucky into the team to smooth things over after the “civil war” he still referred to Bucky as a murderer in private.  This didn’t mean you were sitting around enjoying each other’s company though. You two had arguably one of the most important jobs out of everyone. You two were guarding the ex-Hydra whistle-blower. Fury wasn’t sure who to trust in S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore and the Avengers compound would have been an obvious target. He had set the woman up at a hotel and booked rooms for you and Bucky to stay there as well. You were to protect her if anything happened and keep people from suspecting her location. You knew Peter was somewhere in the city as well,but he was busy with a group project for one of his NYU courses and was only to be bothered if it was an emergency.

“Hey Y/n… I think we have a situation…” Bucky announce ominously as he looked out the window at the sea of reporters and cameramen outside. You came up behind him and rested your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his waist, to see what he was talking about.

“Oh no,” you said calmly and kissed him on the cheek. “That’s all part of the plan.”

Bucky didn’t even care what ‘the plan’ was, he just put his face in his hands and muttered, “What did you do now, Doll?”

“Well I figured the best way to keep Hydra from expecting we were keeping their little runaway here was to turn this hotel into a Stark media spectacle,” you explained, to which Bucky just sighed deeply. “No, no, no. Hear me out on this. I got a friend of mine to ‘accidentally’,” you air quoted, “leak that I was staying at a hotel in the area because of a personal problem. Now they are all here and keeping tabs on the place unknowingly. Hotel security is being beefed up as we speak to handle them, which makes out job slightly easier. Plus it gives us a cover as to why we are here in case someone recognizes me or catches a glimpse of your shiny arm. And I doubt Hydra would think we are dumb enough to keep someone they’d want in the center of some crazy family drama”

“And yet, here we are. I don’t even know where to begin with you right now.” Bucky said with an exasperated laugh. “You’ve got this place surrounded by random people, making it even easier for Hydra to sneak in without anyone noticing.”

“That is where you are wrong. Hotels in New York City are filled with random people from all over the world all the time. But now, the lobby and sidewalks are filled with faces of paparazzi and journalists I saw more of than my own father when I was growing up. I’ve made it easier for H.E.L.E.N. to spot an unknown face because I’ve surrounded us with people that the system knows. And I hacked into the hotel’s system and got the names and faces of everyone else that are booked while we are here. If there is a face H.E.L.E.N. doesn’t recognize it will be easier to handle”

“Well, what are you going to tell them? All those people down there? You’ve got to keep them here for a while, since it is too late to undo your plan.” Bucky asked.

“I’m gonna go down there in something casual and if they notice me I’m gonna put on a show. And then later tonight or maybe tomorrow morning you will come down with me and it’ll make the whole thing an even bigger news story. Y/n Stark dating the man that killed her grandparents. That is gonna be huge in the tabloids!”

“So, this is how you want to tell Tony about us being… together?” Bucky asked.

“No! He’s gonna think it was a genius play by his genius daughter.” You replied, “ He won’t think it was real once I explain the rest of the set up. He’ll think it is all for work, it’ll be fine. You trust me on this, right, babe?”

Bucky just nodded while you got changed. It seemed your idea of a casual outfit was a red, velvet turtleneck and high-rise jeans, a flowy, black cardigan, and a hat that said ‘superhero disguise’ on it. You wore a pair of comfortable sneakers and your glasses that your AI assistant H.E.L.E.N. was connected to so she could keep an eye on the crowds. You could see Bucky from the corner of your eye, holding back a laugh as he shook his head.

As soon as you step out of the elevator in the lobby a few of the news channel reporters are by your side as you walk. They are asking you question after question before you stop and wipe away a fake tear. “It’ll be easier to just stop and take your questions huh?” you asked as you scanned the room carefully, allowing H.E.L.E.N. to verify the identities of every person in the building. “My dad, the ‘great’ Mr. Tony Stark kicked me out today and is threatening to completely disown me.”

You immediately have the herd’s undivided attention as they ask ‘why?’ and ‘what happened?’ before pushing the microphones back in your face. “A recent… romantic development of mine seems to have taken him by surprise and deeply upset him. So both of us have been forced to find another accommodations for the time being, so we chose one of my favorite hotels in the city.” Before you can finish talking they are all asking for the name of your secret lover.

There are a few very amusing guesses, such as Wanda and Nat. The media would just love to make Tony Stark out as a homophobe. That would be quite a story, but it’s so far from the truth you at least feel the need to add, “My boyfriend and I haven’t quite discussed making our relationship public, so I won’t be naming any names. Now if you’ll excuse me, I just came down to pick us up something to snack on,” you say as you step away from the cameras and head to the small gift shop to buy some random bags of chips, protein bars, and drinks.

After you paid, you hurried back to the elevator with your head down. The plan had gone perfectly, you even managed to plant a micro-camera by the elevators to let H.E.L.E.N. keep watch of who entered and exited your floor. By the time you got back to your room Bucky was sitting on the couch watching reporters talk about the stunt you just pulled and making guesses on who your mystery man was.

“I’ll admit, your plan seems to be working better than I expected.” Bucky said as you sat down next to him and tossed him a protein bar.

“Told ya. I wonder who they think I’m dating,” you said as you pulled out your phone and saw there was already a Buzzfeed article titled ‘Which Avenger Hunk is Y/n Stark with?’ “They seem to be leaning towards Rhodey, which is gross because he is basically my uncle. Or Steve because that would apparently be a low blow after the civil war. A couple of odd votes for Clint, guess I’m a homewrecker,” you snorted. “Not a lot of people are betting on you, Buck. There’s even more people who would want to see me and Sam together.”

Bucky laughed, “As if.” He tried to sound indifferent but you could hear the annoyance in his voice. Rather than saying anything you rolled your eyes and pecked him on the lips.

After waiting a few more hours and a receiving a call from Steve, who said things were going really well and their group had taken care of one hydra base so they were heading to meet up with the others to help them out, you decided it was time to drag Bucky down to the lobby with you to keep the press looking alive.

You placed an order for Chinese food to be delivered and by the time it arrived Bucky had put on his most casual, under the radar, outfit and followed you down the elevator to the lobby. Once again, the moment you were seen the press was all over you. But as soon as they saw Bucky all hell broke loose as reporters called for their cameramen to get back in place. Bucky waved over the awe-struck delivery boy and paid him while you handled the press.

“Bucky Barnes, the ex-Winter Soldier, is the Avenger you’re seeing?” One man from channel 15 called out.

“Yes, you’re very observant,” you joked. “He’s had a change of heart and we both decided that keeping our love a secret wasn’t going to change my father’s decision.” Bucky returned to your side with the bag of food in his metal hand and his flesh one slipping into yours. You rubbed the back of his hand soothingly to keep him calm.

“But he killed your grandparents!” A different woman called out.

“Well as all of should you know, that was before I was born. I never knew my grandparents, Howard and Maria Stark. But regardless, that was not my Bucky. That was a result of brainwashing and torture, not the man I love.” You pulled Bucky in for a short kiss before wishing everyone a good night and returning to your room.

“I love you, doll,” Bucky said with a smile, “But I think the kiss might have been overkill”

“Oh please,” you said as you pulled out a take out box of sweet and sour pork. “You know you kind of loved it. Plus H.E.L.E.N. swept the lobby again, all clear still. People like Hydra agents want to lay low and a media circus is no place to do that. They don’t want their faces in the background of photos to be discovered later.”

Before Bucky could respond, you heard a beeping come from your computer and H.E.L.E.N. warned you “Miss, It’s your father”.

You hurried over to the computer to see your dad video calling you from inside his suit, he seemed to have just finished a tough fight. “What the hell are you up to?” He demanded.

“Hello to you too pops,” you said.

“Don’t ‘pops’ me. F.R.I.D.A.Y. just alerted me that you and Barnes are both trending online and media outlets are putting out article after article. What did you do?” Tony repeated.

“It’s a distraction technique to keep eyes off our ex-Hydra friend.” That didn’t seem to impress Tony, so you continued your explanation, “Basically I said you kicked us out because we are in love and it pissed you off. Don’t worry about it, I’ll explain more later. If you could just put out a statement that you have indeed thrown me and Bucky out on the streets because you cannot stand for our relationship, that would be really helpful!”

Tony rolled his eyes, but agreed, telling F.R.I.D.A.Y. to mock up a statement immediately. “Well, we are basically done here. Fury will be moving our informant into a proper safe-house, but I guess you two will have to stay at the hotel a bit longer thanks to your little set up. I don’t know where you get these half-baked,insane ideas from, kiddo.”

“I mean, she is a Stark after all,” Bucky muttered from beside you.

You playfully elbowed him in the ribs before wishing your dad a goodnight and closing your laptop. “On the bright side, he’s right. You and I are forced to spend at least a few more days alone in this big hotel room, with that comfy bed… Whatever are we gonna do, Buck?”

“I’m sure I can think of a few things, doll…”

#bucky x reader #stark!reader #Bucky x Stark!reader #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fic #bucky barnes #Bucky x you #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #reader insert