Your Storm (Some pirates and a chest pt. 5)
Relationship: 10th Doctor x reader
Summary: there's a pirate ship with a peculiar chest on board. Something powerful lays sleeping in it, but what happens when it's opened? (Established relationship)
The grand finale - you calm another storm (this one's a banger)
Author's notes: this is the one where the reader has powers (like, all of them. I went crazy.). The reader first appears in the second chapter and the Doctor first appears in the last.
It was the day after she had saved their lives. The sun was shining, reflected in the waves, and the sky was clearer than they had ever seen it. Even the air itself seemed purer, lifting their spirits with every breath, and the wind was in their favour. With sails full they flew forward, cutting the sea closer and closer to Ys. This was freedom.
The breeze rushed past Tir's ears as he steered the ship. Such a day was the reason why he had chosen piracy - no barriers, no obstacles, just the open horizon.
Fala and Y/N stood in front of him, a little to the side by the handrail. They were engrossed in a discussion about the sea myths of Paloma and Tir could see the excited smiles on the-
There was a blinding flash of light, as if lightning had struck the deck in broad daylight. There was one, no, two men stood in its place. The taller man, dressed in a brown trenchcoat and a blue tinged suit stepped forward. The captain's blood ran cold.
The man looked larger than life as his presence filled the deck. He drew every eye towards himself with an irresistable pull, with a power akin to gravity. The space around him seemed to warp, to shiver at the infinite fury in his form. He was scowling, teeth bared, and his eyes- oh, his eyes.
They were dark, thunderous and endless. Tir was standing far away, but he trembled before the man's gaze. He had seen battle, seen death and devastation but he wanted to hide, wanted to never let those hellish
eyes reach him. Everything in the captain screamed Danger! at the sight of the man, because this was not a man. This was a storm in a mortal body.
The storm's coat billowed in the wind as he brought his hand up. He was holding a metal, oblonged thing, but Tir knew it was deadly by the way he pointed it at the crew.
"Where is she?" the storm growled into the silence. The words rang in the air, seemed to stay after they had been spoken.
Tir was terrified, for her and for himself. This entity was asking for Y/N, and they could not protect her from it.
She was standing by the railing, hands on its wood. But she was smiling (What?), pure joy shining in her eyes, her skin glowing softer than the stars had. It was as if the ache she had carried had leeked out of her, leaving only relief and content in its place. She looked like everything she had ever wished for had come true.
"Doctor," her soft voice called to the storm in a sigh. (Oh.)
His head whipped up to look at her with wide eyes as his face went slack. His hand fell and the metal thing rolled across the deck. "Y/N," he breathed her name like a plea, so softly it was a miracle he'd been heard. He seemed smaller now and so lost. His eyes reached out to her, drank her in like she would disappear.
Y/N broke the connection of their gazes as she turned and dashed to the stairs, started to descend them in a rush by two at a time.
That seemed to wake him up. He stumbled forward and then suddenly he was running in a breakneck sprint, hair and coat flying in the wind. She reached the bottom and ran just as fast, the same desparation in both their faces. The hurried thumps their footsteps made seemed even louder in the silence, with just the wind to join them.
Tir was lost as he watched the pair give everything, everything to reach the other now. Something in him called out, go, run, faster.
They neared each other, closer and closer and then-
You surged around the Doctor's neck as you practically slammed into him, breathless. He stumbled back from the force of it with you in his arms.
He's here, the Doctor is here he's-here-he's-here-he's-here, rang in your mind as you relished his hands clutching your middle. He sobbed into your shoulder then, you could feel his chest heave against you. His tears wetted your shirt and it hurt. What happened to him when he was alone?
He was curled around you tightly, every inch of you touching. He clung to you with such desparation it was uncomfortable, but you didn't care. Your eyes closed as you pulled him closer and gasped for breath. His cloak brushed your legs. He whimpered between sobs and fisted the back of your shirt in his trembling grip. You would do anything to mend his hurt.
The scent of him, his touch and his hair and he's-here-he's-here-he's-here and you were on the verge of tears.
"Y/N" he sobbed into your shoulder, broken. Your eyes flew open as his pain cut into your heart
"Y/N," he begged again as his voice broke, call even more desparate.
"I'm here," you assured him, voice raw. "Doctor, l'm here. You've got me," you rubbed his back with one hand and caressed the nape of his neck with the other. You closed your eyes again as you rubbed your cheek against his collar. He was still sobbing.
His knees slowly gave out, from relief or exhaustion you didn't know. He still held onto you, but he couldn't support his weight anymore. You slowly brought both of you down to kneel on the deck.
"I've got you, Doctor," you told him gently, tears in your voice but determination too. "I've got you, and you've got me and it's alright. It's alright now."
He gripped you even tighter and nuzzled his cheek into your shoulder. "Y/N," he breathed, now more relieved than broken.
"Yes," you answered. "I'm here. I'm here."
"Y/N," calm spread through him, but now his vast tiredness began to show too.
"Doctor," you answered in a whisper and simply held him. You both held each other as the wind blew and the sea murmured.
Jack put his blaster on the ground and slowly walked around you two, towards the stunned people who appeared to be the crew.
He smiled when he reached them and then offered the first person his hand, "Captain Jack Harkness."
They appeared to be a white tiger, a Tirrenian. "Naaska En8sy," he introduced himself as he shook his hand with his leathery paw. Jack's mind went, Oh, yes.
"Nice to meet you, Naaska," he grinned, full of charm, and then turned to the others.
"I suggest we wait over here. This," he nodded his head at you and the Doctor hugging, "will probably take a while."
The people looked at the two of you and then back at him.
"Alright then," a voice was heard from the stairs. The human who appeared to be the captain descended with relief in his eyes. "Do as he says."
After what felt like an eternity, the Doctor's desparate grip began to ease. You wouldn't have minded holding him longer, but he must have been exhausted from searching for you. He didn't exactly have a record of taking good care of himself, so time for you to move. You pulled away enough to look at him more closely and worry immediately spread through you like shards of ice.
His eyes were half lidded, as if he couldn't keep them open, and his skin was pale with an ashen tone to it. His shoulders bowed, and you realized he was holding onto you to stay upright, as much as to assure himself you were really there. He looks as if he hasn't slept, hasn't rested since l was taken. His cheeks were sunken, skin pulled tight over his cheekbones. You noticed how frail he felt in your arms. He hasn't been eating enough. There were new lines on his forehead too and around his eyes, which held more time than before, as if he had aged a lifetime in your absence.
That broke you out of your thoughts. "How long?" your rasped out.
"How long have l been gone?" There was sorrow already in your voice, you had to know but didn't want to.
He took a shaky breath as he looked at your collar and gathered himself. His face contorted in pain, as if even thinking about this hurt him.
"Two months," he whispered as he looked back up at you and then went on before you could say anything. "Two months, fourteen days, seventeen hours, twenty three minutes and fifty-two seconds." His voice was tight but soft, as if speaking louder would break him. The horror in you had spread with his every word, you didn't know what to say. He simply held onto you, looking at you as if that was all he wanted to do for the rest of time.
Then slowly, something started to replace the desparation in the Doctor's eyes, a light that hadn't been there before. During that silence his left hand carefully came up and he traced a single, feather-light finger over your cheek in awe.
"You're here," he sighed, as if finally believing it. You could feel his breath on your face. "You're really here." A smile bloomed on his lips and bright joy lit up his face as he looked at you, glowing with it. You couldn't help but join him.
He cupped your cheek and slowly put his forehead to yours, that bright smile still on his lips. "You're really here," he whispered like a joyful secret with tenderness in his look; the look that was reserved just for you.
You wanted to cry, wanted to laugh, to gather the stars and put them in his hand because you loved him. You loved him and he was there and he loved you too.
You brought your hand up and gently cupped his cheek, mirroring him. It felt so good to touch him.
You caressed his cheek with your thumb and, "I love you," the emotion spilled softly from your lips, there was so much of it you couldn't contain. He smiled even brighter if that were possible.
"I love you so, so much Doctor, l can't even say. I can't-" You lightly shook your head against his, at a loss for words.
He just kept smiling for a moment, as lost in emotion as you. Then, "I love you too," he answered softly, brown eyes bright, and you could fly. "I love you, Y/N Y/S."
Now both of you were grinning like idiots. A giggle escaped your lips, and then you started laughing, because all this joy in you had nowhere else to go. He joined you and it was like the sun was suddenly glowing in your chest.
You pulled him into a hug again then, both of you cackling still.
“My Favorite Flower” - Part 1
Bucky Barnes x florist!Reader
Word Count: 1.2k+
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Requests are open! | My Ko-Fi
Summary: Based off this concept I made: Bucky goes to your floral shop to get flowers for all the unsuccessful dates he’s been on. Soon, he only goes to buy flowers for an excuse to see you.
A/N: So as I was writing this I accidentally closed the tab without saving and I lost a few hundred words, @bemine-bucky can attest to my absolute distraught. Thankfully I was able to rember pretty much everything I wrote down. This has not been proof-read so don’t fucking come for me ok?
Divider by @firefly-graphics , gif not mine
Warnings: mentions of death, fluff
“Flowers from Dot, this is Y/N, how can I help you?”
You quickly wedge the phone between your ear and your shoulder, quickly snipping of the roses’ thorns with quick precision. You’ve had to have trimmed thorns over a thousand times, learning the best way to do it without pricking your fingers. Your grandmother always had a huge box of bandaids underneath the register, always prepared to patch you up whenever you clumsily poked your skin as a child. She would always treat the smallest of wounds with the most loving care, giving you a sweet kiss to your forehead every single time. That box hadn’t been opened in a long time, and you really don’t need them there anymore, but just the memory of your grandmother taking care of you has them sitting in the exact same spot from the last time she patched you up.
You had been droning on a boring conversation over shipments, expecting a very large amount of lilac sprays. It was for one of the multitude of wedding arrangements you had been planning. There was never a time you weren’t making arrangements for weddings. Sometimes you would hate how basic the couples were, always wanting open rose buds, or the simplest of peonies. But you never hated the job, you’ve wanted this job ever since you stepped foot in it the first time.
“Granny, which one is your favorite flower?” You asked excitedly, pulling on the hem of your grandmothers mod dress. It was covered in an indistinguishable, floral pattern. Your grandmother was probably the quintessential florist, always having some sort of floral inspired part of her everyday wardrobe. She pointed to the glass door you walked through, specifically to the painted daisy that your grandfather had painted.
“I always loved daisies, for many reasons. My mother loved to plant them in our garden, and your grandfather gave them to me on our first date,” She says with a wistful stare, her eyes never leaving the painted daisy. You could see the backwards writing of “Flowers from Dot” surrounding the flower, along with the business hours that had remained the same for years.
“So is that why mom’s name is Daisy?” You guessed, and Dot looks into your innocent orbs with her misty ones. You see her wipe away a stray tear.
“Yes dear, she was my favorite flower, but now I think you may have taken her place,” She chuckled when you gasped in surprise, “But don’t tell her I ever said that, it’s our little secret, okay?” she links your pinky with hers. You nod enthusiastically,
You finally hung up the phone, readjusting the small daisy earrings you had on. Before you could reminded further, you heard the familiar tinkling of the bell hung above the door, and you look up to see probably one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in your life, walking into your flower shop. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and a short haired brunette. You nearly drop dead when your eyes meet his baby blues.
“Hi, welcome to Flowers from Dot!” you greet him, knowing full well he wasn’t a regular. You would remember a face like that. You see him nervously look around your small business, room nearly filled to the brim with flora. You see the permanent crease between his eyebrows, you wish you cough smooth it out with your lips—what? You see him open his mouth but he hesitates, so you continue,
“Something I can help you with?” You say with a small encouraging smile. He swallows a bit of air before trying to give you a forced smile,
“Uh yeah, actually, I have a first date tonight, and I haven’t been on one in a while. I’m not really sure what flowers women like these days,” he shyly chuckles, as he approaches. Your heart slightly falters. Oh, of course, someone that gorgeous wouldn’t be single for long now would he? You scan his figure as he nears the counter you’re standing behind. You spot the black leather gloves before he shoves them into his jacket. Why is he wearing gloves when it’s the middle of spring? Oh, whatever. He’s too gorgeous for you to care.
“And I’m guessing you don’t want some boring old dozen roses?” You imply, waving the bouquet of roses i your hand before you place them and the scissors you were holding on the table behind you. You hear him let out a small chuckle and it makes you smile immediately. You spot his teeth slightly breaking out of his smile. He should definitely smile more.
“Well, I just had these new camellia’s ship in yesterday that I think you might like, or uh- your date might like, if you’d like me to show you?” You offer him with the most confident smile you could muster.
“Great! They’re in the back so I’ll be right back!” You say, rushing into the back room. You have to take a few deep breaths before grabbing the things you needed before you walked back out. You spot the man glancing around the shop.
“Alright, I grabbed some baby’s breath that I think would look lovely with these, what do you think?” You ask excitedly. You always got some amped whenever you got to have free reign over any floral arrangement. The man looks at the flowers in your hands, blinking for a moments before making eye contact with you again.
“Oh, I think they’re perfect,”
“Okay, I’ll get started on that bouquet for you,” you chirp, quickly grabbing white tissue paper before cutting off a long strip with ease. After a moment of silence he speaks once more,
“So I’m assuming you’re Dot?”
“Oh no, I’m Y/N, Dot is my grandmother’s name.”
“But you run the shop?” The man quirks an eyebrow at you.
“She passed the business to me a few years ago before she passed,”
“Oh I’m sorry”
“No it’s fine, it’s was about time she joined mom,” You say without even thinking, and you glance up at the man, who takes in a sharp breath. Your eyes widen,
“Oh don’t worry, that was a long time ago,” You try to reason, but you wanted to literally crawl into a whole for dum;in this heavy information on this complete stranger. He thankfully saves you from your spiraling.
“Well, I think you seem to be running it quite well, Y/N. See people walking in here all the time.” He gives you a small twitch of his mouth resembling a smile.
“Thank you..” You start before you realize you never caught his name.
“Bucky,” he says, finally giving you a full smile. Bucky. You’ve heard that name somewhere.
“Thank you Bucky, I try my best,” You say bashfully, quickly tying the ribbon of the bouquet. He goes to reach for his wallet but you shake your head.
“It’s on the house, didn’t mean to give you my sob story, for beings first time customer and all.” You assured. He takes a moment before letting a smirk fall on his lips,
“I think you meant to say, ‘on the greenhouse’” he jokes and you let out a small laugh.
“Don’t make me change my mind,” you say mid laugh, handing him the bouquet. You notice the glove is very cold, but you hide the slight shiver down you back well enough so he doesn’t notice.
“Thanks, they look lovely,” He thanks you, beginning to walk out the door.
“Hope your date goes well!” You call after him, and he throws you a small wave over his shoulder in response.
You really hoped it didn’t go well.
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Where accused villain!reader is brought in for questioning regarding her 'connection' with the LOV. Pro Hero Dynamite walks in and attaches a lie detector test on said reader.
"What the hell is this thing?" You ask, holding up your wrist where there is a band around it and wires attached to it, connecting to the small machine box.
"It's a lie detector test. Whenever you lie, it makes a sound." Dynamite scans through the papers on his clipboard. You raise a brow, still not understanding how it works. "Like how?" You ask.
Dynamite sighs, leaning onto the other side of the table. "Want me to give you an example?" He asks, taking your silence as his cue to continue. "Who do you think is a better pro hero? Me or Deku?"
You scoff, rolling your eyes. "Definitely Deku."
The lie detector beeps.
Your smug smirk falls off of your face. "Wait, that thing is definitely broken. I don't think you're-"
"I heard Pro Hero Shoto is the number one most handsome hero out there. I think the polls are rigged. How about you? What's your take on it?"
"I think it's stupid." You roll your eyes at him, "Hey can I get a new hero in here? I'm loving my time with angry pomeranian here." Despite your obviously sarcastic tone, the lie detector doesn't make a single sound.
Dynamite chuckle, smug expression lacing his features. "Are you interested in me, villain?"
You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. "Hell to the no. I'd throat a cactus before I'd even-"
The lie detector beeps.
"Oh my god will you just shut up?!" You yell, the chains to your handcuffs rattling as you pull on them, huffing when you can't reach the lie detector.
Dynamite chuckles, clearly amused. "Well, now that I've demonstrated how the machine works, I have a question for you. Two, depending on your answer."
You nod at him, motioning for him to continue.
"What kind of connection do you have with the League?"
You sigh, tired of how they're making it seem like you're some rated S-type villain just because of a connection you have with the league.
"The only connection I have with that gang of weirdos is with Himiko Toga. She was a classmate of mine back in elementary. Hell, I can't even remember talking to her back then." You frown.
Dynamite nods his head, flipping through the pages attached on his clip board before putting it down. "Okay, second question."
He rounds the table, leaning over at you. His face stops inches away from yours as you sit frozen on your seat, unable to move. The scent of sweet burnt caramel enters your nostrils and you feel your mind growing hazy by the second.
"Would you like to go on a date with me, villain?" He asks, voice much deeper, lower than before. You swallow nervously. "I'd absolutely loathe that idea."
The lie detector beeps.
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Hi! I'm not quite sure if you're taking requests right now but if you are - can you please write Ymir x female reader modern high school AU where basically the reader is seen just for her looks and Ymir notices that and actually gets to know her and you know then falls in love with her? I hope that makes sense! Thank you if you write this! I really like your writing, it's amazing! Have a nice day:)
A/n: Heyaaa! So love the whole concept so much! High-School AUs are like some of my top-fave AUs to read and write! Also thank you so much for the compliments ^///^ whenever anyone says something like that I feel so much joy! Thank you for requesting love <3
Ymir x Reader One-Shot
Ymir took her earbud out and paused the music she was listening to, groaning as she checked the time. The bell would ring any minute now and she was in no mood for classes to begin.
Opening her locker, Ymir pulled the few books she needed for her first two periods when she heard whistling from a few feet beside her. She peaked around the locker's door to find two jocks cat-calling a girl from her class.
It took her a second before she recognised it was you and she narrowed her eyes as she watched you flush in embarrassment, quickly walking away from them. Ymir had to admit you were pretty cute but she didn't know you personally to judge you.
She noticed how some other girls glared at you from their own lockers; she guessed it was because of all the attention you gained. You seemed like the type of person who didn't want to be the centre of the spotlight yet had it because of your appearance.
Ymir chewed on her bottom lip in thought before shrugging and closing her locker, leaving for her first class of the day.
Everyone groaned at the teacher's announcement of a project but they perked up at the aspect of it being a group one.
"I'll be picking the teams this time, however. I do not want a repeat of last time's slack," she wiped the smiles off the students' faces instantly.
You fiddled with your fingers, chewing your lip in worry. Perhaps you could ask her not to put you in a group? You would prefer if you just did it by yourself. It's not like anyone else ever participated in the work. It'd be less of a hassle if you did it alone anyway.
Before you knew it your name was called out and you slowly lifted your head to look at your teacher expectedly. "You'll be paired with Ymir."
Ymir? You turned a little in your seat to spot her a few desks behind and she lifted her chin as if to greet you. With a small wave in return, you sat straight again.
You didn't really know her that well, but you were aware that she handed in every assignment for this class so maybe...
Maybe you'd be alright.
"Nice place," Ymir hummed and you smiled shyly at her, taking your shoes off at the entrance. Ymir mimicked your actions and you felt grateful; you didn't want your mother to start yelling because of a dirty floor.
"Do you want something to drink? A snack?" You offered kindly, wanting to be a good host despite feeling your nerves eat away at you. She shrugged, following you into the kitchen.
"Some water would be fine," she sat down on one of the stools at the counter and you nodded, filling a glass with some water. "Want to begin here or in my bedroom?" You asked and she shrugged once again. "Wherever."
She seemed really chilled back and that eased your anxiety. You pointed up the stairs. "It'll be quieter in my room. We'll be able to focus better."
And with that you climbed up the stairs and sat in your room, preparing your computer to start on your research. Before you even managed to mutter any other word, Ymir poked at your cheek with her pen. "You're pretty quiet aren't you?" She asked, to which you blinked owlishly.
"Huh?" You wondered. "What do you mean?"
"Thought you'd be a lot more talkative," she leaned back in your desk chair, resting her head on her bent arms. Seeing as you still couldn't follow, she sighed, "I've heard people talk."
Your eyes widened slightly at that and you lowered your head. A sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you. "Well... not everything they say is true," you whispered under your breath but to your surprise, Ymir chuckled softly.
"I don't believe a single shit they've muttered. Besides..." She stretched her back and gave you a side-glance. "I prefer seeing things for myself."
Your lips parted and you couldn't help but smile.
"Didn't expect to finish it in only four sessions," you smiled, saving your word document and PowerPoint presentation before shutting your laptop at last. "I mean, we both hella smart," Ymir twirled her pen lazily, her head resting against the pillow on your bed.
"No... I meant to say that," you bit the inside of your cheek, gently chewing on it. "Well, not everyone I've worked with has really done the work before."
Ymir stopped playing around, fixing you a focused stare. "What are you talking about?"
A shrug came as your response as you twirled in your spinny chair. "Well... people either don't want to work with me because for some reason they loath me or..." Your face began to heat up uncomfortably. "Or they just try to... hook up with me."
Her eyebrow arch caused you to panic and you shook your head in denial. "I'm not saying that I am a hot b-babe or something that everyone wants! Oh God no! It's just that... I don't know how to explain it okay!"
Ymir chuckled lightly at how flustered and defensive you suddenly got, motioning for you to sit on the bed with her. "I've noticed that behaviour too. You're not thinking narcissistically or whatever."
You side-glanced her, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them close to your chest. "You've noticed?"
She hummed, sipping from her glass of water on the floor. "Hell yeah. I doubt it hasn't been seen by most people. You're literally a walking target for jealous pubescent teenagers and stupid stuck-up jocks."
You reached out to the plate with oreos your mother had brought up for you two and began to pick on one. "I hate it... the way they treat me. Like I don't have feelings. Like I'm just something to be looked at."
Ymir watched you as you rested your head on your knees, sighing from exhaustion. "No one makes the effort to get to know me. If it wasn't for this project you probably wouldn't have either."
There was truth in your words and Ymir knew you were right. Had it not been for this assignment, she would have never talked to you. However, she is glad to have gotten the chance to know you. You were... you were quite something else.
She honestly felt bad for you. You weren't a snob like most would think. Neither a stupid little thing. Ymir played with her lower lip, thinking intensely.
"Your situation is..." Ymir looked around for a second before her brain lit up and she grinned, a small gleam shining in her eye. "It's just like this oreo okay?" She held the oreo in between her fingers and made you concentrate your eyes on it.
"What really counts is the inside. Not everyone likes the outside; most of us even dip it in milk so it tastes better," with a twist of her wrists the cookie parted into two equal halves. "The cream is what everyone wants. It's the tastiest, most enjoyable part of the oreo."
"But what if not everyone likes the cream?" You suddenly felt very insecure and you only noticed by how quiet you sounded while asking your question. Ymir wasn't deterred by it.
In contrast, she lifted the oreo to her mouth and bit on it.
"100%!" You grinned, showing the grade at Ymir. In return she just smirked, taking the paper and folding it before pushing it in her pocket. "Did you expect something lower? Of course, we got a perfect grade."
"Thanks for being such a great partner!" You wrapped your arms around her, hugging her in appreciation and Ymir patted your head. "I mean, I needed a good grade too. Couldn't trust in you completely."
With a roll of your eyes, you giggled when she took a hold of your hand in her own. "Now let's go, I'm hungry!" Ymir pulled you along to the school's cafeteria, smirking mischievously at all the eyes on the both of you.
She could care less of what they thought of you both. Kissing your forehead in front of the other kids, you became a flustered mess; something Ymir rather enjoyed seeing.
She kept her arm around you protectively and sent the jocks she had last heard talking about you a warning look.
'She's taken bitches!'
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Mine for a Long Time Part 5
*gif not mine*
Warnings- Ghosts, weapons, swearing, blood, yearning for someone who you aren’t dating
Word Count- 1.5k
A/N Hey guys! So sorry for the late update! Enjoy the chapter!!!
Walking towards Sam and Jo I move my feet carefully so as to not step over the lines of salt Jo had just placed down. As I mindlessly brush my fingers over the gun holstered to my waist my mind goes to Y/N. The memory of her just moments before fills my thoughts, the way she leaned into my touch and the way a tint of red found its way onto her soft cheeks when I smiled down at her. The strongest emotion that clouded my body at the moment though is the feeling of guilt I felt in my chest. I get this feeling every time I notice the beat of my heart quicken when I find myself thinking of Y/N longer than friends are supposed to think about one another.
The feeling only strengthens when I see Jo look up at me when she notices me coming around the corner of the house. I try to shake the emotion out of my way. Knowing damn well feelings like that, feelings that cloud up your thinking, during a hunt can end up with someone getting hurt. And the one that would get hurt would be Y/N. And I’d rather go back to hell, than have her get hurt, or worse, because of me.
I love Jo. I do. I love her. She’s the one I want to be with.
I almost laugh bitterly at the way my gut twists in my stomach, as if it knows what I’m telling myself is a lie.
“Dean, are you just going to stand there or are you going to help?” Jo’s voice breaks my thought. I nod as I walk over to Sam and Jo who are finishing off the rest of the sand bags. I grab the last one and finish the circle.
“She’ll be fine Sam, Y/N’s a big girl she can handle herself.” Jo said to Sam as we stand behind the house as we hear the door close to the house, meaning Y/N has gotten herself inside. I feel as if my chest is clenching in on itself as we wait for any noise from the house. After a moment we hear nothing until the sound of something falling pulls me into high alert and Y/N’s screams make me start to bolt towards the front of the house.
“Y/N, you good?” I hear Sam call. Which I would’ve rolled my eyes at if I didn’t feel my heart beating out of my chest. Obviously if she was ok she wouldn’t have screamed.
I stop in my tracks when I hear Y/N call back and say it was a false alarm and I allow myself to roll my eyes this time. Jesus Christ this girl will be the death of me.
I hear Jo let out a small laugh and a frown finds itself onto my face. My heart clenches at the emotion her laugh gives me, or lack of I would say. When I first was with Jo in the beginning of our relationship 4 months ago her laugh would make me feel content, which was a good feeling. Now though, that feeling is gone and replaced with dread. The dread caused by the reason why I don’t feel content anymore. The reason I’m not ready to say out loud yet.
I walk back to Sam and Jo and wait for Y/N to call out the signal.
Time seems to pass painfully slow as Jo, Sam and I wait for Y/N. It’s quiet until a loud noise comes from the house.
“Y/N!” Sam yells standing upright from his position next to me. I quickly wrap my hand around my gun as I find myself next to him waiting for Y/N to answer.
“It was probably just a false alarm, guys.” Jo tries to reason with us which earns a glare from my brother. I’m about to say something when I hear Y/N’s screams.
“Sounds like a false alarm to you?” I hear am say to Jo as I’m already running for the front of the house, I can hear Sam behind me yelling something to me but everything seems to blur together as I hear another anguished scream come from the house and my legs almost give out at the thought that I won’t make it in time. I make it to the stairs and try to open the door only to find it bolted shut. I shove my shoulder against it repeatedly, but nothing.
“Fucking hell.” I try again. Nothing. Sam comes up behind me.
“What happened?” I spare him a glance as I keep trying the door.
“Door won’t fucking budge.” Another scream comes from the other side of the door. Sam shoves me out of the way. I turn to glare at him when I see him back up and bolt towards the door, shoving all of his weight into it. I thank whatever angel is watching over me this time as the door bursts open and I run past Sam and make my way into the house and stop dead in my tracks when I see the ghost of a man on top of Y/N with a knife in his hand. He glances at me and sends a sickening smirk and my confusion turns to fear as I see the knife in his hand. I start to run to Y/N but freeze in my tracks as I watch the knife implant itself into her stomach. I have to swallow the bile rising into my mouth as the man retracks the knife and blood spurts from the wound. The world seems to slow as I see Sm run past me and shoot the man with rock salt making him disappear. I watch as he takes off his flannel and bunches it up and presses it to Y/N’s wound.
“Dean. Dean!” Sam’s voice seems to break me from my trance and I find myself running to Y/N.
“We need to get her to the hospital now dude, there’s too much blood.” I don’t waste another moment as I grab Y/N from Sam and pick her up bridal style. Running out the door as Jo watches from the entrance.
“Jo get in the car, Sam you’re driving.” I yell at both of them but am cut off by Jo.
“But what about the job?” She questions to which I return with the biggest scoff I think I’ve ever let out.
“Does it look like I give a shit about the job right now?” I shake my head as Jump into the back of the Impala with Y/N in my arms. Her breathing is getting heavier by the minute. Sam and Jo jump into the car and Sam flooring it out of the driveway without another word.
“How far away are we?” I question as it seems we have been driving for far too long. And Y/N’s breath is getting shallower by the minute. I have to distract myself because the feeling of her blood on my hands is going to make me spiral.
“Map says 5 minutes.” Jo says from the front seat where she holds the paper map in her lap.
“That’s too long. Sam hurry up.” Sam shoots a glare in the back view mirror which slowly turns into a frown as his eyes catch Y/N’s figure.
“Well try harder.” I mutter as my attention goes to Y/N.
“Come on doll I need you to stay with me ok,” Y/N’s eyes flutter, but close as fast as they open.
I let out a sigh as I pressed her closer to my chest, not giving a damn about the looks I might get from Jo or Sam. With Y/N’s face pressed to my chest I bring my voice down to a whisper as I start talking.
“You’re not going to die. You know why,” I wait a moment as if I’m going to get an answer but start again when I get nothing, “You’re not going to die because if you did there would be no one to call me out on my shit, there would be no one to eat pie with. Well I’m sure I could find somebody, but no one as good as you. And I’d have no one to make me watch shitty nerd movies that you make me watch, because as much as I hate them, I put up with them because I love hearing your stupid monologues during them about how the main characters are always idiots and how you wouldn’t make the mistakes that they did. So I need you to not be an idiot like them Y/N and stay alive for me. It may be selfish but I really couldn’t give a damn. I need you to live for me because if you die I don’t see a point in living a life without you.
TRAITOR - b. barnes
Gif is not mine!!!
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader, husband!Bucky x reader
Warnings: angst, cheating, divorce, relationship/marriage problems, pregnancy, childbirth, swearing, mentions of sex, babies!!!
A/N: OMG, I am so overwhelmed from the love I received on the first part. It was literally written in like 30 minutes because I was listening to Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo. I never expected that. Also, because of the first part of the story, I reached more than 120 followers. Thank you, thank you soooo much. I love you all and I hope you'll stick around for another stories. Another thing...there will be third and last part of Traitor because I'm planing some kind of confrontation between Alison and reader. So, enjoy and let me know what you think.
TRAITOR (part 1)
Requests are open
It was safe to say, I didn’t hold up to my own resolutions as much as I tried and didn't manage to be "strong". I knew I had to leave the safety of Natasha’s room in the compound because it would be easy for Bucky to find me, and that was the last thing I wanted. I knew we would have to eventually talk, but I swore it’s only going to be in the presence of my lawyer during our divorce. Right now, I needed to be ready for the upcoming, very important event. The birth of my child.
Natasha took me away after two days I spent in the compound when Bucky stormed in, and FRIDAY locked the doors to Natasha’s room before he could get in. There was a lot of yelling from Natasha and Wanda, but also Bucky and of course Steve who had his homeboy’s back. As always.
For the last three weeks, my new home was a property of SHIELD, no longer used as a safe house. And this whole time, Natasha and Wanda stuck to me like glue, even though I told them they can return to the compound and continue with their work. When they both dramatically turned off their phones and put them deep in a drawer, I knew that was their final decision. They won’t leave me, and I was so thankful that somebody was in my corner during this hard time. Even if it wasn’t the father of my child.
The last three days, my mood swings were going crazy. Crazier than ever before. I couldn’t sleep, I was in the bathroom, peeing constantly, my feet were swollen, and I looked and felt as if I was going to burst any second. Which was the truth. I was always sad, heartbroken, sometimes angry, cursing Bucky either in my head or out loud. It was a tough time. I should have been happy, but he took that away from me.
It was another sleepless night for me. I was frustrated, not able to find a good position when the belly was in my way constantly. My eyes were swollen and wet from the tears and my cheeks pink from the bottled-up anger. I wanted to scream at someone. Preferably Bucky, to tell him how much he hurt me, I want him to always remember that.
In a single moment of weakness, I reached for my phone, and after more than three weeks, turned the device on. Messages from Bucky, Steve, Sam, and even Tony popped up immediately. And then the ridiculous amount of missed phone calls. I should never turn it on, forgetting that the person whose calls you missed gets a notification that you're available. And Bucky took that opportunity, ringing my phone before I even had a chance to read or delete a single message.
My first thought was to not pick up. Obviously. But then, the other part won. I wanted closure. Wanted to tell him what I felt, and I wanted him to know that I’m suffering because of his reckless, heartless actions. So, I picked it up and waited. “Doll,” his voice was quiet, raspy and it sounded as if he was crying. “You don’t…you don’t have to say anything, just listen. I want to tell you everything. I want you to know everything,” I still waited without a sound, knowing my throat was tightly squeezed by anxiety. “When you told me, that we are going to be parents, I was the happiest man on the earth. That’s exactly what I wanted, what we wanted, even though it was a surprise. I wanted a child with you, only with you. But the doubts that came, after I processed the information, were fucking up my mind. I was doing it to myself, mocking myself, laughing at myself. How can I think for a split second that I could be a father? How could I even think that I could give something good to our child? I was spiralling so fast, so low and as much as you always stood by me, I knew I couldn’t lay this on you. Not when you were in such a fragile state. I bottled it up for weeks, then I went to a bar after a mission. Alone, I just wanted to think. It was the end of January. Alison worked behind a bar, and we had a conversation. Very vague, just like she probably had with any other customer. I should have left, but I am an asshole. Dumb asshole. I stayed for way too long. I was the only one there, the last customer and she was there, and my fucked-up mind told me to sabotage everything I had. Everything I love. Everything I fought for all this time. And then, I came home, and you were there, smiling at me, being so perfect and I was never more disgusted with myself,” although I tried to be quiet, I knew he heard the tiny sob that escaped my lips.
He sighed but continued with a broken, shaky voice. “I saw you and you were so good, so unaware of what I just did to you, to us, to our marriage, to our baby. I saw you and then I saw myself and I couldn’t make myself even touch you or kiss you. I felt too dirty for it. I was scared I would taint you. Your perfect heart. I was…so disgusted with myself like never before because I can’t find an excuse. This was me. This was all on me. And I was bottling it up, making everything worse because I saw how sad you were, how you thought that it was your fault I was so distant,” he stopped because his voice suddenly broke. I heard a sniffle and then he continued. “It was never your fault, baby. Nothing is your fault, you are perfect. It’s all on me, and I will never forgive myself for doing it and what more, I will never forgive myself for leaving you when you needed me the most. I should have known I would only destroy you.”
I took a deep breath and finally got the courage to use my voice. “Did you sleep with her after that?” I asked.
“I'm sorry. I was...I was getting to it. It was March, and I was so done with everything. I was seeing you everywhere, but at the same time, I was missing you like never before. I wanted to be with you, but I knew I was not worth it. And I wanted to tell you so many times, but you were pregnant, and I just couldn’t…” he got quiet after that for a little while. “I went to that damned bar again. I don’t know why. And I just talked to her. And I would come often after that, always talking about what a waste of space, what a good for nothing husband I was, and she’d listen. I needed to get it off my chest, but I had nobody to talk to. Sam and Steve would kill me and told you immediately. I just needed to at least pretend somebody else knows. Even if it was just her,” this time, I cut him off.
“Do you love her? Do you feel anything to her?” I asked, scared of the answer.
“No, no, absolutely not. I don’t feel a thing to her. There’s nothing from me. I don’t…I don’t even see her as a friend. Those were not a friendly conversation. She was basically my shrink at that point,” he said immediately.
“You said that from you there’s nothing. Does she feel something?”
Yet again, his lack of answer told me everything. Some woman fell in love with my husband. “She says she does. But I don’t. Nothing at all.”
“So what else happened between you two?” I asked and closed my eyes preparing for the worst.
“We…we had sex again, for the second and also last time. It was almost two months ago and when it happened, I knew I can’t go on like this. I refused to return. I never wanted to see that woman again. She found out my phone number. Or maybe I gave it to her. I don’t know. I don't remember. All those times in that bar are so hazy. She wanted to talk about us, but for me, there was no us, when I finally decided that I will tell you everything and hope you will forgive me one day. And then you found out in a way I didn’t want you to."
I was quiet, trying to process what he told me. Trying to think of a scenario when I would ever do something like this to Bucky with another man. But I wouldn't, because no matter what I always thought he was my endgame. I couldn't imagine myself with another man. “I just…I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, whipping away the tears.
“You don’t have to say anything. Thank you for listening. It’s more than I deserve,” his raspy voice sent shivers down my spine, but I really couldn’t tell if in a good or bad way. My emotions were so affected by my hormones, I myself, couldn’t tell what I was feeling. The only thing I knew was, that I just can’t forgive Bucky right now.
“It’s a lot to take in and if I’m being honest, it’s really complicated for me right now, with all the hormones and everything. You hurt me, Bucky. You hurt me like no one else, ever. But they say, the person you love the most will always hurt you the most,” I wasn’t going to sugarcoat the truth for him. I wanted, needed, him to know how I feel. “I thought, I've always thought you would never do something like this. All I can think about these past weeks is you with another woman. And the fact that you put that woman before your wife and your child. I can't erase it from my mind.”
“I would never put anyone above you, you need to…” he started to defend himself, but I harshly cut him off.
“But you did, though. At some point, you did, even if you don’t want to admit it. Because you were fucking her in some bar, while I was waiting for you at home,” I would be surprised if the ever so vigilant Natasha didn’t hear my outburst. “And I just can’t get that image of you two out of my memory. It was supposed to be just you and me. Just like always. That’s what we promised. But you brought a third person between us, to ruin it.”
“I’m so sorry,” I could say he knew his sorry wasn’t enough, but he had nothing else to say.
“I will be honest with you, Bucky. Right now, this baby is my priority, then perhaps we can talk in person. But I’m not going to lie, I don’t know if things can back to the way they used to be before all of this. I don’t know.”
“I know. I wasn’t expecting you to. I don’t deserve it. I just wanted to give you the truth, just like I was supposed to do so long ago. You were right. I wasn’t there for you. I disrespected you in the worst way. And you are the last person who deserves that. But I also want you to know that…I will never, ever turn my back on you again. I want to be there, for you, for our child. Please, we can be separated, you don’t have to talk to me, but please, I want our child to know me. Please,” his pleading was desperate, and if he was in front of me, he would be already begging on his knees.
“I would never take the baby’s father away. Never,” I said vehemently, and his breath of relief told me that he was happy with the answer. Maybe, just maybe, during our separation, I had vindictive thoughts about Bucky never seeing our child. But in the end, it would just bite me in the ass. I couldn’t do that to my baby, and I couldn’t let myself get so low and hateful. It wouldn't solve anything.
After that, I had to end our call abruptly, before he could hear the hysterical cries coming out of my mouth. It was just too much. One part of me wanted to save what was left of our marriage. Either for me or for the baby to be raised in a whole family. The other part had a lot of questions and no answers.
Would I be able to look at Bucky the same way?
Could I ever get past this?
Would I be able to forgive him?
Would I ever trust him again?
Would I be able to trust anyone ever again, when the only person I trusted unconditionally, betrayed me like this?
I couldn't find the right answers to any of these questions. And I didn't even have much time to speculate about them, because one day after my call with Bucky, the baby decided to come out to the world. My water broke in the kitchen and Wanda and Natasha were both next to me in a second. It was funny really because I had to soothe the two frantic, panicking women and explain to them, that it was pointless to go to the hospital right away. They won’t take me yet. The next few hours were excruciating but somehow funny at the same time. Like when I taught Natasha how to properly breathe because the famous Russian ex-assassin was almost ready to faint.
Then, when we were ready to go to the hospital, Wanda called Bucky to let him know and he was at the hospital before us. Whatever happened between us. However complicated things are, we were the future parents and we had to stick together during this time. As a grown people, we needed to throw away any hard feelings, any hurt feelings and be ready to welcome our child into this world. That’s the priority.
“It’s just a matter of minutes and we will start. You’re almost ready, mom,” said the smiling nurse and left my room again.
“You’re doing so great,” whispered Bucky, who was standing next to my bed with his flesh arm on my pillow. I knew he wanted more contact but was too afraid to ask for it. I wanted to answer something, but the next contraction hit me like a brick to the head.
“Oh my god, I’m so ready for the baby to be out,” I whimpered and mentally prepared for the pain that was yet to come.
“Soon. And he or she will be in your arms,” his hand was in my hair, but right now, I didn’t mind. It was comfort and I would take it, no matter what.
The pain was, at some points, unbearable. I was sure that I heard Bucky’s fingers crack when I crushed them more and more with each push. I couldn’t breathe and my vision was all fuzzy. It may have seemed like it took hours before the screaming baby was out, but in reality, the real birth took only a couple of minutes. And before I could even blink, or finally take a deep breath, the nurse was handing me a small baby in a white cloth.
“Congratulations, you have a strong, healthy girl,” she smiled at me, and I slowly pushed the blanket away to look at her small, wrinkly, yet beautiful face. She didn’t like the fact that she was kicked out of her mom’s safe nest. That much was evident with the grumpy look on her face. Or maybe it was genetic and she took after her father. Grumpy before she can even open her eyes. She had definitely his thick, dark hair.
“My God, she’s beautiful,” said Bucky in a whisper, when he leaned over us.
“Isn’t she?” I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. So tiny, yet a whole human being who came out of me just seconds ago, who was also the outcome of my and Bucky’s relationship. A human being who was completely mine and Bucky’s. “She’s ours,” I smiled and looked up at him.
He nodded his head. “Yes, she is.”
“Dad? Would you like to cut the umbilical cord?” asked the nurse, after she apologized for taking away our daughter again. Bucky looked at me as if asking for permission and I nodded.
After that, she was finally just ours. Finally, in the piece of my room, we could look at her, count her fingers and toes over and over again. When Bucky held her on his chest, I wished I never saw the message from Alison. Ignorance is bliss, right? But I knew and right now, at this moment, he is just the father of my daughter. My baby daddy. Perhaps future ex-husband.
I wish I could kiss him. I wish he would hold me and tell me he loved me. I wish I could still see him as my husband instead of seeing him as a man who’s no longer mine. That thought hurt me more than I cared to admit. But right now, when he was smiling with our daughter in his arms, I decided to leave it be for the future.
“I’m so proud of you,” the gentle tone in his voice made me snap my head to him. I may have been tired, but I saw the look in his eyes. I saw it many times before. For the first time in months, I saw he still cared. “Thank you. For everything. And for her. She’s truly a…gift,” he looked down at the baby curled up on his chest and smiled.
This had to be enough. For me and Bucky. I wasn’t ready to forgive, forget and move on. The wounds were too raw and the pain too fresh. But us being good parents for our daughter was enough.
PART 3 (coming soon)
@stolenxkissess @quinnmaddie @chipilerendi @lovely-geek @sunrisebarnes @snuggleducky @capmanranger @sunara-luna @coffeebooksandfandom
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I was writing a fic and i closed out before saving so i just lost a few hundred words an i want to cry.
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“ I wanna be just like you”
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Do you ever like a plastic bag drifting through the wind? 💥 🎆
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Good night, Mr Cavill
Part 7 - Save your breath
Pairing: teacher!Henry Cavill x plus-size teacher!reader (3rd person)
Word Count: 1,703
Warnings: rpf, Mr Cavill imagining cardio with Miss Y/L/N quite vividly, body issues, talk of body shaming
Summary: Mr Cavill learns about Mr Mosley's reasons for sending Miss Y/L/N on the class trip with him.
A/N: Today is graduation day at my school which marks a happy but also a sad day for me. I'm so proud of my students for making it this far, but my heart is also a bit heavy from seeing them leave. So, as some of them actually inspired the students that are depicted in this story, I'm going to celebrate them by posting another chapter (which actually doesn't have any students in it, but anyway... 🤣).
Picture by Jessica Ruscello via Unsplash
If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.
Finally the heat of the day seemed to have decided that it had tortured the world enough for now as the glowing ball of fire had begun its descent. And still he was sweating profusely, salty beads gathering on his skin to form small rivulets that cascaded down his face and back. His laboured breath came out in harsh puffs and he wished that he could skip forward in time and be on his way back to the hostel already. But he had only just reached the beach to set out on his evening run and he was too disciplined not to finish what he had started.
He had to admit though that he wasn’t very fond of doing cardio. At least not like this. Not if there were so many better ways of working up a sweat he could think of. He couldn’t help a rapt smile from pulling the corners of his mouth upwards as he allowed himself to imagine the kind of cardio he would rather like to be engaged in right now.
It didn’t take long until the images inside his mind developed a life of their own. He could feel her now, her lush body pressed to his, their sweat mixing in all the spots his skin touched hers. She was moving in sync with his thrusts, moaning her appreciation into his ear while her fingers dug into his back to release some of the agonising bliss he caused her. Her legs wrapped around his hips, she pulled him deeper, and he picked up the faint flutter of her walls that held him in a tight grip. “Henry,” his name fell from her lips like a desperate plea and he knew she was close. “Henry,” she begged again, but suddenly her voice seemed to come from a distance, his daydream slowly slipping through his fingers.
“Henry!” His eyes flew open upon her warning tone, but it was too late, and he could already feel the cold water of the surf soaking his shoes when he finally came to a stop.
“What are you doing?” Her voice came closer now rapidly and among all the worry he could also make out a hint of amusement.
He sighed before he turned around to face her. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Yeah,” the worry was now gone completely and she practically beamed at his dumbfounded face. “I kind of got that when you left your straight line and drifted relentlessly towards the sea.”
From one second to the next his face was set on fire as he imagined how ridiculous he must have looked and he didn’t need a mirror to know that he was blushing like a peony.
“You know when you said something about enjoying your afternoon off while the little monsters are blowing their pocket money in town, I didn’t think you would take this morning’s experience a step further and go for a run at the beach blindly.”
“Haha, very funny,” he retorted while he stepped out of the water. “And may I remind you that it was you who couldn’t even walk across a bridge properly.”
“Well, thanks for mentioning it.” She rolled her eyes, but still she couldn’t stop the small smile that was forming on her lips. “I had almost managed to cross that moment of embarrassment from my mind.”
But he hadn’t. And he probably never would. Especially not the short eternity she had allowed him to hold her in his arms, her trembling slowly easing away underneath his tender touch. God, he wished she would have never pulled away.
“Come sit with me for a while, will you?” He followed her outstretched arm that pointed towards a towel a few feet up the beach from where she had most likely watched his silly run. “I mean, unless you want to continue your run in a pair of wet shoes.”
What a ludicrous thought. As if he would prefer running to sitting next to her on the beach during sundown. And so he found himself facing the ocean, bare feet buried deep into the warm sand, while a contented silence had settled between him and the woman to his right.
Quietly he watched the waves lap at the beach, their soft sloshing and the cries of some seagulls the only sounds that reached his ears. The last beams of sunlight covered his skin like a warm blanket, slowly lulling him in and for a moment he allowed himself to close his eyes and feel one with his surroundings.
“Aaah, fuck,” she suddenly hissed, her pained voice pulling him from his meditation instantly. His head whipped around to find her holding her elbow while her nose was scrunched up in agony.
“It’s nothing. Just my stupid brain forgetting about my elbow and trying to lean back into the sand.”
“May I?” he asked carefully, his hands held out to take hold of her arm to examine her injury.
Holding his gaze, she nodded quietly, granting him permission to touch her.
“Ooooh,” his nose scrunched up as well as he felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach, “that really is a nasty bruise.” The mark covered her whole elbow, shaded in deep purple, and he wished he could have done anything to ease her pain.
Looking up at her face, he had at least wanted to shoot her a sympathetic smile when he suddenly found himself silenced by the view in front of him. The sunlight reflected on her skin, tinting her gorgeous face in a golden hue that brought out her features magnificently. The reflection in her eyes created the illusion of a fire that was burning inside of them, and he found himself wanting to believe that it was burning only for him. And before he new what he was doing he heard himself confess, “You look so beautiful in this light.”
But as soon as the words had left his mouth, her eyes told him that he had screwed up again. He was such an idiot. He had actually wanted to listen to the advice he had gotten and stop complementing her looks as it so obviously made her uncomfortable, but here he was, overpowered by her beauty once more.
“As compared to every other kind of light?” she snapped as she tore her arm out of his hands.
“What? No, that’s not - “
“Save your breath, Henry,” she cut him off, “I know I’m not pretty. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”
“Whatever is that supposed to mean?” Still trying to fathom why on earth she would say something as nonsensical as that, he didn’t notice that she was scooting away from him a little.
“Well, it’s simple really. When Mosley called me into his office the day I helped you with your copies, he told me that I was the perfect yin to your yang when it comes to sexual appeal and that he wanted me to go on this trip with you because I was the least tempting woman on the whole staff, so there would be no risk of any inappropriate actions happening between us.”
Henry found himself unable to say anything for a while until he had organised the flood of reactions her account had stirred up inside of him.
“Please tell me you’re kidding. Although it wouldn’t be a very funny joke. He didn’t actually say that, did he?” He found it hard to keep his composure. This was outrageous. And so wrong on so many levels.
“Oh, believe me, he did.” Her voice sounded bitter now and he hated everything about it, but it were her next words that really broke his heart. “And I get it. It’s fine. After all, he just had the courage to say what everybody is thinking anyway.”
“No, it’s not fine at all. How can you even think it is?” He had almost started to shout by now and he had to take a deep breath to keep his anger at bay. “Nobody has the right to talk to you like that, especially not him. And it’s also not true that everybody is thinking of you like that.”
She scoffed and he realised that his words had done nothing to convince her of the truth. Maybe words just weren’t enough to make her see what he saw. Maybe he needed to -
And before he could even finish the thought, his hand darted out to cup her cheek and hold her in place until his lips had overcome the distance between them. Pointedly his mouth moved with hers, trying to make her feel all the affection he held for her. And after a moment of shock, he could feel her give in to him. She moaned deliciously as her lips fell open to welcome him inside, making a bolt of lightning shoot to his groin. Her taste was heavenly, sweet and tempting, and he was sure his lips had never tasted anything as wonderful as her. He could have kissed her forever, enjoyed the feeling of being this close to her, but without a warning, she pulled away, staring at him with wide eyes.
“I…um…I think I’m gonna finish my stroll now,” she mumbled while her fingers had shot up to her mouth where she could probably still feel the touch of his lips. And without letting him out of her sight, she got up to gather her belongings as fast as she could without looking at what she was doing and walked a few steps backwards. “I see you at our bedtime walkabout.”
He watched her turn and hurry down the beach into the direction of their hostel and he only snapped out of his shellshocked state when she had vanished from his view completely. With a desperate groan he let himself fall back into the sand, covering his eyes in frustration while he fought the strong urge to punch himself in the face, hard. And as he still tried to hold on to the feeble hope that he hadn’t messed it up for good with his impulsive behaviour, he finally took the advice he had been given this morning and prayed for a miracle.
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Word Count: 2,778 - not accurate as of rn -
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x BlackFem!Reader
Warning: Swearing, arguing.
Summary: Y/N rides along with Sam, Zemo and Bucky to Madripoor.
A/N: I know this episode is over used but I been wrote this and I just wanted to give you guys something after been absent for so long. My birthday is next week and I’m excited. Enjoy this one-shot.
They followed Zemo to his personal jet. A older man stood at the end of stairs waiting on their arrival.
"So all this time you've been rich?" Sam asked looking at the jet. Y/N walked between him and Bucky behind Zemo. She haven't really been talking to Bucky because of their argument.
It was basically about how he disappeared on her. He left without warning. Only reason the previous couple is around each other now because Y/N was there when Sam gave up the shield and decided to stay by his side through the journey. That’s how she ended up here on a plane with someone that broke her heart.
The reason why Bucky left because he’s scared to love. He’s scared that’s she was going to leave him because of his past since it was to much for her. So Bucky left and still haven’t told her the reason why he did.
"I'm a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country." Zemo replied then spoke to the older gentleman in Russian. After the men greet each other the trio followed Zemo into the jet.
Bucky placed a hand on Y/N’s lower back to help her up the stairs, but she pushed his hand off. She had every right to be mad at him. Y/N really love Bucky but he can't just leave her whenever he get the chance.
Y/N sat in the chair in front of Zemo with Sam beside him and Bucky beside her. She nervously looked out the window, Y/N isn’t a big fan of heights.
"The fridge is out. But I will see if there is some good food in the galley." The man said to Zemo who replied in Sokovian. My nerves were getting really bad, She starts to fumble with her fingers.
"Y/N you okay?" Sam’s voice laced with concern. She turn to see them staring at her like a worried parent. Y/N gave them a small smile trying to ease their worries.
"Just checking Y/N. Why don't you tell us about where we are going Zemo?" Sam asked looking at Zemo for answers.
Zemo opened a book, "I'm sorry, I was just fascinated by this. I don't know what to call it but this part seems to be important." He pulled a little book that was inside the bigger book holding it up.
"Who is Nakajima?"
Bucky swiftly gets up wrapping his gloved hand around his neck. Y/N’d eyes widened from seeing how worked up he got up from that. All the nervousness about flying left her body.
"What the hell James??"
"If you touch that again, I'll kill you." Bucky seethed then unwrapped his hand from around Zemo's neck sitting back down. Y/N rolled her eyes at how dramatic he was. Deep down she wished it was her he was putting into place but no one needs to know that. (Our little secret.)
"I understand that list of names. People you've wronged as the Winter Soldier." Zemo said obviously not phased from what just happened.
"Don't push it." Bucky warned glacing at him then towards Sam.
"I've seen that book. It was Steve's when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What'd you think?" Sam amused but Bucky kept a straight face.
"I like '40s music, so..."
" '40s music? You definitely need to put me on some good music then." Y/N said engaging in their conversation. She thought it was kinda cute that he held on to the book Steve had. Bucky gave her a small smile.
"Whenever I get the chance, I will. Just for you."
Y/N bit her lip to keep from smiling to keep up the ‘I’m mad at him act.’ But it wasn’t working.
"You didn't like it?" Sam asked shocked.
"I liked it." Bucky said giving him the face of 'duh i liked it.'
"It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience." Zemo said in the most formal way possible. Y/N gave a humorous smile nodding her head.
"That was one of the best way to explain it."
"He's out of line, but he's right. It's great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye" Sam agreed as if Bucky didn't agree. Y/N laughed at what he was doing.
"Sam why are you still going on about it? James literally agreed."
"I like Marvin Gaye." Bucky continues looking at him.
"Steve adored Marvin Gaye." Sam said bringing up another memory of Steve.
"I have to go to the bathroom. Excuse me." Y/N held up the finger going to the mini bathroom. She struggled so damn hard in that small ass bathroom trying not to fall on her ass. Y/N soon came out to hear them talking about Madripoor.
"What's up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it's Skull Island." Sam questioned looking between the two used to be villains.
"It's an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a private sanctuary back in the 1800s." Bucky start while Zemo finished telling them the information.
"It's kept it's lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone."
Y/N glanced at Bucky who tensed up at those words. I knew it was going to be hard on him. Sitting back down her seat, She moved the hair that was in her face.
"So who do I go as?"
"Miss Sapphire, one of the richest lady there. She models for every company you can think of." Zemo said showing Y/N a picture of a woman looked exactly like her.
"Ooo I think I'm going to like this." Y/N smirked looking at the outfit that she was going to have to put on. She knew Bucky wasn't going to like it but oh well, it apart of the job.
Y/N was beside Sam as they walked down this empty bridge. She kept sneaking glances at Bucky because he looked so good with his new arm. Y/N didn’t know she staring to long when his eyes linked with hers. She quickly looked away, face turning really hot.
"We have to fix this. I'm the only one who looks like a pimp." Sam complained touching his suit. Y/N rolled her eyes, her feet were starting to hurt from walking for so long.
"Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp." Zemo said. Y/N’s walk began to turn into limping which made her fall behind a little.
A little "Ow." came from her mouth, grabbing Bucky's attention. He slowed down walking beside Y/N.
"No you're not. You just said 'Ow'. What's wrong?"
"None of your business James. I'm okay."
"So you’re calling me James now? And I know your feet is hurting Y/N. Let me help."
Y/N decided to be stubborn even though she wanted to get off her feet so badly. "It's always been James. I'm able to handle myself, I can take pain."
Bucky rolled his eyes, in the matter of seconds Y/N was in his arms bridal style. Not in the mood to argue, Y/N ooked everywhere but him.
"And it's Bucky to you. It's always and forever going to be that to you."
"Before you left, it was Bucky. Now it's James. You know what, I can walk myself." She moved but his grip tightened not wanting her to get out his arms.
"No, I'm going to continue to carry you." Bucky said but Y/N didn't respond which made it quiet between them. She fought the urge to look at him since she was mad.
"I saw you looking at me and my arm."
She looked up at him fulfilling her urge and they made eye contact. Y/N quickly looked away nervously "Um, no I wasn't."
Bucky let out a laugh,"You indeed was."
"Guys! for the love of god, shut up!"Sam scolded from in front of them.
"He started it!" Y/N eplied back like a little kid. Bucky laughed a little then sigh.
"Y/N, you've barely said a word to me today. Did I do something?"
She scoff getting irritated from that dumb ass question. "DiD I dO sOmEtHiNg?? Huh? Bucky stop talking to me before I say something I might regret."
"What? Y/N I just asked a question." Bucky said in defense. She huff rolling her eyes, 'a dumb ass question at that'
"No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depends on it. There's no margin for error." Zemo explained as the car came into view on the bridge. Bucky placed her down on her feet when they neared it, opening the door for Y/N who climbed in the middle seat.
"Here we are."
Walking into into the bar you could feel the intense stares they were getting. Bucky glared at anyone that looked my direction. Y/N had to fight off any instinct to grab his hand. It wasn’t the appropriate time to do it.
You could hear the whispers of the crowd looking at them. "Is that the Winter Soldier?" . Zemo guided them directly to the bar. A tall dark skin man walked over to the trio so they could order.
"Hello lady and gentlemen. Wasn't expecting to see you, Sapphire and Smiling Tiger."
"His plans changed." Zemo nodded towards Sam. "We have business to do with Selby."
The bartender looked at Sam,"The usual? Anything for you Ms Sapphire?"
Sam nodded his head while Y/N replied, "No, Thank you." The bartender turned around grabbing a dead snake out of a glass jar. She covered up her mouth to keep from gagging. Y/N turn to Bucky shaking her head no.
"Ah, Smiling Tiger, your favorite." I heard Zemo say from behind Y/N. She would’ve laughed but Y/N wanted to puke at the moment. She knew Sam had drunk it when Bucky looked the other way to keep from I guess laughing.
Y/N moved to the side of Bucky when a man walked up to Zemo from behind. "I got word from on high. You ain't welcome here."
"I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me." Zemo then pointed towards Bucky.
"New haircut?" The man asked but Bucky just stared.
"Or bring Selby for a chat." Zemo continued his deal. The man walked away not even giving a answer.
"A Power Broker? Really?" Bucky finally spoke up.
"Every kingdom needs its king. Let's just pray we stay under his radar." Zemo explained.
"Do you know him?" Sam whispered not wanting to give himself away.
"Only by reputation." Zemo replied. "In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner."
Y/N leaned against the bar with my back facing the crowd. She felt a hand being placed on her lower back. The other hand moved Y/N’s hair from the side to show her neck.
"Sapphire, baby, we didn't get to finish from last night. Let's get out of here."
Y/N prepared to punch him but stopped myself when I heard Zemo say "Зимний Солдат, Атака" ( Winter Soldier, Attack.)
Y/N turn around to see it was a different man this time. He had smirk on face, as his index finger touched her bottom lip slowly then used the rest of his fingers running down her exposed chest.
Y/N had never felt so disgusted in her life. His fingers stopped on her boob when Bucky's metal hand swiftly grabbed it, crushing his hand.
You could tell that Bucky was so angry for him even getting close to Y/N. The man grunt out in pain as both of them walked away from her while Bucky still clutched on his hand.
The pair shared a quick look. The way he eased back into his Winter Soldier character bothered her a bit. Maybe he had it like a switch?
Y/N winced not really wanting to see none of the combat taking place so she turned around with her back facing the crowd.
She didn’t want him to feel he can protect her all the time. Y/N didn’t want to seem so dependent on him especially if he isn’t going to always be in the picture. When Y/N needed him, he wasn't there. Getting out of her thoughts when Bucky slammed the man that touched Y/N on top of bar holding on to his neck, eyes never leaving his face.
Everyone around them start to take their gun off safety. Y/N’s heart start to pound as she looked around. Zemo placed a hand on Bucky's arm whispering.
"Stay in character or the whole bar turn on us."
Zemo says something else in russian which make Bucky let go of the man. "Selby will see you now." The bartender announced.
"Thank you." Zemo said then walked off.
"You good?" Sam asked Bucky concerned. He looked at me but Y/N quickly glanced at them then followed behind Zemo not uttering a word.
Turns out Y/N wasn’t the one she want to talk too since she was just some famous model . She had to stand in the hallway and wait on them. Y/N was so uncomfortable, especially with what she had on.
Y/N heard a gunshot which makes her kick in the door. Both Bucky and Sam aimed the gun at her then lowered it.
"What the hell happened in here?!" Y/N asked seeing the bodies on the floor.
"We'll explain later , let's go." Bucky said grabbing her hand and they all walked out of the building. They walked through the streets hearing surrounding people phones going off
"This is not good." Zemo said looking around at the people who looked on their phones. They near the end of the street when bullets aimed for us. Bucky pulled Y/N to him as they ran in one direction.
"I can't run in these heels!" Sam yelled while he ran.
"You better learn today!" Y/N yelled back holding on to Bucky's hand since it was in the heat of the moment, not wanting to let go.
Sharon help killed off the bounty hunters they had on us. At the moment Y/N was in the bathroom getting ready for the party she was having. Finished with getting dressed, she walked out the bathroom running into a hard chest.
"It's okay doll."
Y/N gave him a small smile then began to walk to room where everyone else wad until Bucky grabbed her hand.
"Why didn’t answer my question from earlier? What did I do?"
"You know what you did Bucky. Is there I need to say?"
"I think I know what I did? I don’t know Y/N. Just talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
"To answer your dumb ass question, you did do something wrong. You act like everything's okay between us, when it's not! Bucky, you left me. Like disappeared on me without explaining why!"
"I knew telling you that I was leaving would crush you. I didn't want you to be hurt over the fact that I left." Bucky rubbed his hand over his mouth.
"Leaving you was the best way to protect you. I'm feared by many but that still doesn't mean you aren't going to be a target to hurt me."
"Best way to protect me?! You leaving hurted me way more then what you think it did. You're worried about protection but not focusing on my feels. You said you love me but you left like it wasn't nothing." I groan flustrated raising my voice. He couldn’t look at Y/N and it raised her suspicion.
“You’re lying Bucky? What is it? What is the truth.”
“Bucky tell me!”
"I was scared Y/N! Scared that you were already planning to leave because of my past. I know I shouldn’t have left when you needed me but I didn’t know what to do. You deserve better then me Y/N.” Bucky confessed as his head dropped. I placed my hand under his chin so he could look me in the eyes.
“Bucky I could’ve told me. You leaving hurt me more then what you think it did. I love you and that means that I’ll understand anything you’re going through. I don’t deserve better, and I don’t wan better. I want you Bucky. You’re not alone in this baby I swear.”
Bucky pulled Y/N to his chest, as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m so sorry baby. I love you too Y/N so much.” He kissed Y/N’s forehead.
“Oh and I wanted to kill him so bad but I knew you wasn't going to like that so I stopped."
"You know me so well."
Bucky apologized again, “I’ve missed you so much. I can’t wait to make up.” He began to kiss on her neck making Y/N tilt her head to the side so he could have more access.
"Hm, I'll accept it if you dance on the dance floor with me."
"No! God no. I'll do anything but that. You know I don't like dancing." Bucky pulled back groaning but she gave him the puppy eyes.
"Please? Or I'm going to stay mad at you."
Bucky rubbed his hand over his face, "Fine."
Y/N smiled jumping in his arms and they rested under her butt to keep her held up.
"Yayyy!! This is going to be fun."
"I’m only doing this for you baby.”
“That’s the best part.”
This took a long ass time to edit but I hope you guys like. Like I said earlier I know this episode is overused but I had wrote this when tfatws was still airing so yeah.
I’m posting something since I haven’t posted in so long.
If this one-shot don’t make sense let me know cause it’s almost 3 am while I’m trying to edit and add stuff to this and I’m so sleepy 😂
Thank you for reading!
Stay slutty my friendsss 💕
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[START] [ABOUT AND WARNINGS] [FAQ]
Steve/ Don’t find out. Gender is a social construct and you want to make your decisions without it coloring everything.
You shake your head. “I don’t want to know,” you say. “I want it to be a surprise, but I also don’t want everyone just buying us pink or blue. I don’t want gender norms being pushed on them before they’re even here.”
Steve raises an eyebrow but stays silent for a moment like he’s contemplating what you’ve said. “You have a point. You know, pink wasn’t even considered a girl’s color when I was a kid.”
You laugh and shake your head. “Sometimes I forget how old you are and then you say things like that.”
Steve starts laughing, which sets the tech off too. “So we’re not finding out then?”
“I guess not,” you answer and look up at Steve feeling just that little bit more in love than you were before. “Thank you, Steve.”
Steve smiles and shakes his head. “At the risk of sounding old again - back in my day, we couldn’t even find out. So I can wait.”
The tech finishes up and you wipe the gel from your stomach and get up. The two of you head out to get lunch together.
Steve lets you sit as he goes and places the order at the deli counter. “So,” he says as he takes a seat opposite you. “Seeing as we’re not finding out the sex, what shall we do for names?”
You pop the cap off your bottle and take a long drink, relishing the cool on such a warm day. “Well,” you say, putting the now half-empty bottle on the table. “We could either just make lists of boy’s and girl’s names and be ready to pick one when we meet them. But if I’m honest, I’d love to go with something more gender-neutral for their first name. Try and let them figure out who they outside of their sex organs. I know that’s a little idealistic, but I just want them to be whoever they are, not the box they’re supposed to fit in. Maybe a gender-neutral name will help with that. Or maybe it won’t… I don’t know.”
Steve seems to consider this for a moment and gives a nod. “You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”
“I mean, I could also be full of shit, and this won’t mean anything in the end, but gendering stuff is kind of bullshit anyway,” you say.
“Alright, let’s do it your way,” Steve says.
Your pregnancy progresses well, and Steve is attentive as ever. There is still Avenging that keeps him away at times, but he is there for all the doctor’s appointment, and you know that if he’s in town and you have a craving for pickles and ice cream, he’d be there with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s and a huge jar of kosher pickles.
The ‘L’ word hasn't been uttered by either of you and the fact it hasn’t seems to be preventing the two of you from really moving forward properly. Despite the fact there is a baby on the way there has never been any talk about moving in with each other, and since the initial offer of marriage, it hasn’t been brought up again. Besides a toothbrush, neither of you even keep anything at each other’s place.
You want to move into that comfortable relaxed phase of a relationship, where you are okay with silence and know that you can sleep at the other’s place even if they aren’t there. But the longer it goes before saying the words, the further you seem to move away from it.
A lot of free time that you both share is just preparing for a baby. You find a name that you’re both happy with. You go shopping for baby clothes and diapers. When it’s time to buy furniture you realize how far away you both are from ever getting there. Steve buys two of everything. One for your home and one for his. It also adds a slightly guilty and jealous feeling about being a parent. Steve selects everything for his place based on color schemes and quality, whereas you have to pick based on what will actually fit in your tiny place and you can already tell which parent your child will like most, and it’s not you.
When he finally lets you see the nursery, you can see how completely invested in parenthood he is.
You have had to just find a space in your room for her crib and changer table/bath combo. Steve, on the other hand, has a complete and rather elaborate nursery. The crib is a dark timber sleigh crib and has a mobile featuring planets and stars hanging over it. There is a matching change table and chest of drawers, and in the corner is a comfortable-looking sofa chair in pale yellow, with a green throw pillow on it. Next to it is a small bookshelf in the same dark wood as the other furniture and among the books, you can already see a copy of The Wizard of Oz and Alice in Wonderland. A rug featuring a top-down view of the street lies in the middle of the cream carpet and there’s a toy box already stuffed with toys that looks like two alphabet stacking cubes sitting side by side.
The walls are what really draw your attention though. A large mural is painted on two sides, starting with a large rainbow that ends on the yellow brick road where Dorothy, Toto, Scarecrow, the Tin Woodsman, and the Cowardly Lion are all walking arm in arm in the direction of the emerald city. A field of poppies lies between them and the beautiful green city.
“Wow,” you say, looking around the room in awe. “This is amazing.”
“I just… I never want them to feel like they were an accident,” Steve says. “Or that they’re an inconvenience.”
“They are going to love growing up here,” you say, and let out a breath. “I bet they’ll hate being in my little shoebox with me. You’ll be the cool parent.”
Steve wraps his arms around you and draws you close. “That’s not true - in any way shape or form. I can get Sam to tell you right now, I’m never going to be the cool anything, let alone dad. I bet they love you most.”
You start laughing and nuzzle into his neck. “Maybe they’ll love us the same. You never know.”
Steve chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “We could get lucky.” He pulls back and looks into your eyes, his thumb caressing your jaw. “I love you, you know?”
For a second your heart stops beating and it feels like time pauses. You swallow thinking about how you really feel about him and what you want for not just the two of you as a couple but as a family too.
Tell him you love him
Don’t return the sentiment
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lessons in living (keigo takami / hawks x reader, angst and fluff) | MONDAY, APRIL 5TH, 2021 - 11:17PM // next | tw: cursing, description of someone getting a piercing
MONDAY, APRIL 5TH, 2021 - 11:17PM
You both love and hate the lull of a Monday night at work. You always inwardly curse your boss, the owner of the well known tattoo shop you worked at as a piercer, for insisting that you remain open until midnight on Mondays, even though you usually see your last client at around 8:30pm. Today, however, has been unusually, painfully slow. You attribute it to the gloomy weather -- dark clouds hang in the sky, bringing sporadic spurts of rain with them. Not many people want to come in for body modifications on dreary days like this.
The highlight of your eight hour shift today thus far was when someone came in for a vertical labret. Not many people come in for those, most patrons opting for a simple helix or lobe piercing. You pounced on the opportunity to do something interesting, leaving your fellow piercer to pout at the front desk. You didn’t really feel bad about this, since it wasn’t her turn to pierce anyway. Normally, your darling coworker, Suki, helps open the shop at noon, works by herself until you arrive at 4 o’clock, and leaves you as the rush ends at 8. Tonight, you convinced her to go home early. After seeing absolutely no piercing clients for two hours, despite it being peak rush hour, you told her that there was no point in staying here, unless she really enjoyed sulking in an uncomfortable wheely chair. She tried to protest, but you wouldn’t have any of it. She left you at around 6, meaning you’ve been doing busy work all by your lonesome for around 5 hours at this point. Usually, there’s little time to do the menial tasks you found yourself performing tonight. Though you’re bored, you try to be thankful for the opportunity to prepare ample supplies for the remainder of the week. The faint sound of alternative music and the buzzing of tattoo guns from your tattoo artist cohorts lulls you into a rhythm as you prepare jewelry to be sanitized. This task in particular isn’t too bad, in your opinion. The repetitive nature of placing jewelry in pouches causes time to pass along more quickly somehow.
Your carefully cultivated rhythm is interrupted by the chime of the door opening. Even though you’re sure that this customer is here for a tattoo, as is standard for this time of night, you greet them as you finish packaging your current piece of jewelry.
“Hi, welcome in! How can I--”
You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you look up from your work. Even though he’s trying to disguise himself by wearing civilian clothes and dark sunglasses, you know those vermillion wings anywhere. Hell, anyone with half a brain cell would. For some reason, one of the most prestigious heroes in Japan found himself in your shop. A pang erupts in your chest at the thought of the word ‘hero’, as it always does.
You know he wouldn’t want to be pestered. He isn’t in his hero uniform. Is it his day off? You blink hard and continue your greeting as he saunters up to the counter.
“How can I help you?”
“I’m here to get a piercing,” he responds, an unsure lilt to his voice.
This was rich! The Hawks, standing in your shop, flustered about the notion of getting pierced. By you, no less. The circumstances of this situation are laughable. You’re the only one who realizes that you two share something in common. Well, shared. You shake the weight of that internalized comment and force yourself to think of something else. Anything else. Your brain offers solace in the form of your coworker. You just know that she will be pissed about not being here in Hawks’ presence. You smile through the urge to curse at fate, undeservingly putting you in this situation. After all you’ve been through, you try to forget that heroes even exist. Suki, on the other hand, adores these figureheads. She should be here, not you.
“Sure thing, darling,” you drawl, voice dripping with forced hospitality, “What are you thinking?”
He pauses for a moment, removing his sunglasses to reveal wide amber eyes darting between each of the piercings decorating your face and ears. As you duck your head to avoid his gaze, you start to wonder whether or not he had decided what he wanted before coming in here. Finally, he chooses.
“I like the hoop on your nose… I think I’ll get that.”
You find yourself smiling at the innocence of this interaction. It’s almost cute how completely and utterly lost he is. He returns the smile lightly and then begins scanning the room.
“Okie doke! You got any ID?”
It’s amazing how this routine that you follow several times each shift has become so difficult.
“Oh, uh… yeah,” he mutters, fishing his wallet from the left front pocket of his jeans.
He opens the simple leather bifold and retrieves his driver’s license. You take it gingerly from him, wondering to yourself why he has a driver’s license in the first place. Doesn’t he just fly everywhere? You pull out the registration paperwork and fill in his information. You take note of his birthday, December 28th, 1997. You knew he was young, but you didn’t think he was only a year your junior.
“Capricorn, eh?” you chime, attempting to ease both his nerves and your own.
You peer up to gauge his reaction. He brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck, pink spreading across his freckled cheeks. He laughs nervously.
“Uh, yeah, I am. I don’t even fully know what that means, if I’m being truthful.”
You chuckle at his honesty.
“It means you’re the type of person who decides to waltz into my shop at 11 o’clock at night, not even knowing what you want… at least, that’s what I’m gathering now that I’ve met a Capricorn for the first time,” you tease.
“Ouch!” he feigns offense.
You scribble the finishing touches of the paperwork you need to complete and hand him the remainder on a clipboard, along with his ID.
“You gotta save that for when I stick a needle through your nose, bud.”
He sighs as he takes the clipboard and grabs a pen from the cup on the desk.
“I don’t know why I’m doing this…” he mumbles.
You know exactly why he’s so hesitant. The commission might kill him. You decide to feign ignorance.
“Why not? You’re young, live a little!”
“You’re, like, sixteen! Why are you saying that like you’re seventy five?”
It is both comforting and painful that he really has no earthly idea who you are. No one really does anymore. Time did a remarkably wonderful job of erasing you from the public’s radar; you had done a remarkably good job of erasing you from the public’s radar. Even your old friends from the hero circle hardly acknowledge your existence these days. It’s not like you were in the limelight long enough to make a significant impression, anyhow. You take a deep breath, doing your best to keep the playful nature of your conversation alive.
“For your information, I’m twenty four, and I happen to think that I’m qualified to encourage you to live a little. Have you seen me? I’m a living canvas.”
He lifts his eyes from his paperwork to look at you after your prompt. He really drinks all of you in for the first time, his sudden intensity making you slightly uncomfortable. You tremble at your idiocy, assured that after all these years, your cover is blown. You knew better than to draw his full attention to you. His keen observational skills will surely see right through your facade. Instead of your face however, his eyes are thankfully drawn to your tattoos. Even though you were covered by an oversized jacket, the sleeves were rolled up, partially revealing your pride and joy: your patchwork sleeves.The scars that cover your scars. You had taken a lot of care into choosing the exact placement of each piece, making a somewhat cohesive flow. You weren’t anywhere near done, but you had made enough progress to be proud of what you had to display. Right now, though, each of your pieces burn under his gaze. He smirks as he looks back down at his clipboard.
“Yeah, you’re clearly more qualified to tell me to ‘live a little’. You have a bunch of really cool tattoos and piercings, and I’m just the number two hero,” he taunts, sarcasm oozing from his honey voice.
“You should be nicer to the woman who’s about to put a hole in your face.”
“You’re just gonna glaze over the fact that I just told you who I am?”
“I already knew who you are, Hawks. You really think I’m that stupid?”
He hands you the clipboard, the smile you see in his TV appearances plastered across his face. You check over the form to make sure everything was in order. You pause at what he lists as his legal name: Hawks. Technically, this is correct, as hero titles are legally binding. You wish that you had looked a bit closer at his identification so you can call him something other than that. You raise from your desk chair and stretch, warming up the muscles that had been inactive for so long. You shrug off your jacket and smile at him.
“I’m gonna go set up for you. Hang tight.”
As you retreat to a room off to the right of the front desk, Hawks follows you with his eyes. This was the most genuine conversation he’d had in months. Every day, his interactions consisted of his stuffy hero colleagues, scummy news reporters, and obsessive fans. He didn’t have any friends, not really. His upbringing didn’t really breed close friendships with people his age. Now that he’d reached god-tier fame, people regarded him as an idol, not a person. He’d never had the opportunity to make a friend. This existence was achingly lonely, and none of the methods he used to rely on soothed it anymore. But here you are, knowing his status but regarding him as just another customer. A human being. The emptiness from years of acquaintanceships, the hunger for a real relationship, begins to be satiated from the kindness that you’ve shown him tonight. Maybe it’s premature, but he is overjoyed.
He thanks his years of media training for his casual outward appearance in this moment. He’s able to manage the radiating waves of desperation for now.
You peek your head out from the piercing room, calling out to him.
He flashes his signature award-winning smile and nods, trying to contain himself from skipping all the way over to you. He enters the cozy little room, taking in the surroundings. Little plastic bins and drawers covered the counters and walls. In the scarce spare space, posters were tacked into the wall. He can tell a lot about you just from the way you’ve injected yourself into every square inch of the space. Most notably, he can tell that you have a lot more depth than you might want others to think.
You sit in your wheeling stool, metal tray adorned with various needles and tools next to you. You gesture to the bed, and Hawks sits.
“Alright, Hawks! My name is Sagi. I’m pleased to meet you, and even more pleased to poke you.”
You’ve rehearsed this greeting every day for the past three years that you’ve worked as a piercer. At first, it was difficult to use the pseudonym that the HSPC gave you. Even though you personally hated the name, you couldn’t come up with anything better. You also couldn’t help but agree with the organization when they told you that, if you wished to remain anonymous, you’d have to go by something different. As you introduced yourself to more and more strangers, you grew to appreciate and become familiar with your new moniker. Now, you’re more Sagi than you are (Y/N).
“Go ahead and lay on your back for me, big guy,” you instruct.
“I’ll have to stretch out a little to do that,” he warns, thumb pointing to his wings.
You nod, just now realizing how small he was forcing himself to be since the moment he walked in. His wings are tucked into themselves, resting on his back. You reason that laying on that bundle of bones and nerves would be incredibly uncomfortable. You’re adaptable, though.
“Scratch that, stay sitting. All I need you to do is face me,” you compromise, smiling.
He nods, shifting towards you, lightly bumping his knee against yours in the process. The unexpected touch startles you slightly, causing you to scoot your chair backwards. As you process the change in routine, you realize that you’re gonna have to do this standing up. No way you’d get a good position with his height advantage. You slowly stand and step closer to your client, analyzing his face.
“What side do you want the hoop on?” you ask.
He considers this for a moment, then responds, “Right.”
You nod, reaching your gloved hand for your ink-dipped toothpick. You regard his button nose, dotted with freckles. Like you did every day, you tapped into your quirk. Unfailing accuracy is extremely useful in this field. Something about doing it in front of Hawks though set you on edge. You don’t know enough about his avian quirk to assure yourself that his heightened senses can tell if you’re activating your power. There’s a nagging fear in the back of your head that tells you your nerves will cause your quirk to fail. You remind yourself that you mark your spot for a reason other than projecting quirklessness.
You easily find the center of the divot in his nose, lightly poking it with your toothpick. You retrieve your handheld mirror and hand it to him.
He stares hard at the spot you marked, carefully considering it before it becomes a hole in his face. A smile creeps onto his face as he answers.
“Perfect, couldn’t have done better myself!”
If he only knew.
“Well, I mean, I am the professional here.”
He rolls his eyes and drops the mirror into your extended hand. You involuntarily giggle at this, and Hawks’ wings flutter at the sound. You didn’t realize how loud his wings could be. The movement he made was so slight, but clearly audible. Not in a bad way; quite the opposite, actually. The softness, the playfulness of the noise fills your chest with light. A smile toys at your lips as you unwrap your tools.
“Alright,” you begin, “I promise you, this isn’t gonna hurt as bad as you think it’s going to. You might tear up because of how close your nose is to your eyes, but I won’t judge you.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not worried about the pain,” he scoffs, “I am worried about the crying though… that’s a bad look for a pro hero.”
“So is having a nose piercing. I bet the public is gonna be pissed.”
“The public can suck it up.”
You relate to this sentiment. You felt it for so long.
You position the needle over your mark, hovering just above his eyes. You pause for a moment, realizing how close you are to one of the world’s strongest heroes. He smells like cinnamon and vanilla. His windblown, sandy hair looks so soft. His amber eyes, looking up at you with curiosity, melt your insides. Someone with his sheer power could flay you alive. You’ve witnessed this, up close and personal. Instead of fear, however, you just feel warm. He isn’t scary, not in the slightest. He’s beautiful. You blink several times to focus yourself on your task.
“Okay, deep breath in…” you instruct.
He obeys, inhaling deeply from his nose. He closes his eyes in anticipation.
“... aaand now breathe out.”
As you say this, you pass the needle through his nose. His eyebrows knit together briefly, but then immediately relax. He handles the pinch like a charm.
“Great job. I’m putting in the jewelry now.”
You attach the hoop to the end of the needle and pass that through. As you separate the needle from the hoop, Hawks opens his eyes. Your eyes flick over to his, noticing that he has tears pricking them.
“I’m not crying,” he insists.
He chuckles as you close the hoop. You quickly clean him up, removing the dots of blood and lingering remnants of your mark. When you’re satisfied with your work, you back up, admiring it and him.
“All done! Take a good look,” you announce, pointing toward the mirror on your wall.
He hoists himself up to observe your work, dabbing at his wet eyes as he goes. First, he looks in the mirror head on, then turns his head to the side. A smile spreads across his face, different from the ones you’d seen from him thus far. This one reached his eyes, millions of amber flecks dancing around his pupils. He finds you in the mirror, sharing his happiness with you for a moment. He spins to face you, still smiling.
“This is fucking sick, dude. Thank you,” he praises.
You can’t help but grin at his infectious joy.
“No problem, my friend,” you laugh.
His eyes break contact with yours and meet the floor, his hand reaching for the back of his neck again. That pinkness spreads across his cheeks once more. You fawn at how completely and utterly adorable he is. You then immediately scold yourself for your vulnerability.
You both make your way back to the desk; you reclaim your seat and Hawks stands on the other side of the counter. You turn to the computer and punch in his purchase as he pulls out his wallet. Before you can even tell him the total, he pulls out thirty thousand yen.
“Woah, it was only, like, five thousand,” you protest.
“It’s a tip!”
“That’s way too much! I can’t possibly--”
“Just take it.”
You swallow your pride and accept his generous gift. Though you feel like you’re taking advantage of him, you admit to yourself that this will definitely help you out. To him, this is chump change.
He continues standing in front of the desk, hands clenched at his sides. He looks like he’s waiting for something. Before you can pipe up to ask if he needs anything else, he pulls an old receipt from his wallet and snatches a pen from the cup on the desk. He scribbles something on it, folds it until it’s a small rectangle, and hands it to you. He gives you another wide smile, his eyes doing that same happy dance, and turns to leave. As he goes, you notice that his wings, though they’re still tucked away, are shifting and ruffling. You hope that that’s a good sign. You can’t wait to open his little note, but you want to watch him leave first. As he closes the glass door behind him, he finally expands his wings, stretching them out and warming them up. You were aware that they were big -- they had to be in order to support a grown man -- but you’re still awestruck seeing them in their full glory. They were just like him, so overwhelmingly, distractingly beautiful. You watch them flap, slowly at first, barely lifting the man off of the ground. Then, with one powerful swoop, he’s launched in the air. Gone. You feel sick.
You turn your attention to the paper rectangle in your hand, opening and opening it, until you find his message:
(a/n): i have been sitting on this one for a WHILE, lemme tell u,,, but i finally feel confident enough to post it. it's gonna be long as hell, but bare with me pls!! this one is just gonna be a normal one, as opposed to the choose your own adventure style one that i just posted for aot. that one's an experiment, but i'm definitely gonna keep up with this one! for now, i'm gonna update this on tuesdays, so expect the next one on 6/30/21 :)
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I Can’t Lose You Too - Levi Ackerman
AN: This started as a enemies to lovers, but it became more sad and depressing then hot and smutty like I wanted. I’ve edited the shit out of this to make it smutty, but it kept going in the sad direction. So I just left it. I guess it was meant to be like that. Plus, you all like my sad shit anyways. Which works out for me because I am a sad shit myself. 😂￼￼￼￼￼
You stormed out of Commander Erwin's office. You were beyond mad and upset with Levi. You barely kept it together during the debriefing with Erwin. Levi went first, then you after him. You couldn’t even look in his direction as the two of you passed by the doorway of Erwin's office. Erwin was aware the two of you didn't get along and that both of you in fact hated each other, but he also knew the two of you were one of his best, so on occasions the two of you would have to work together.
As you left Commander Erwin's office you saw Levi leaning against the wall across from you. You glared at him, all the anger you had suppressed and shoved down quickly arose in you again. You gritted your teeth, turned on your heels, and speed walked away down the other side of the hall. You wanted to get away from that son of a bitch, and be left alone for the rest of the day. Yet, he didn't seem to get the hint.
Levi ran after you and grabbed your wrist in his slender hand, spinning you around to face him. "Can we talk?" He asked you, his eyes looked down at you with the same bored expression he basically lived in. You were only a few inches shorter then him, but that made you hate him even more. You wished you were taller then him so he couldn’t give you that arrogant look he always gave you.
"I have nothing to talk about." You snapped at him, yanking your hand free from his grasp. You rubbed your wrist with your other hand, trying to get his touch off your skin.
"Well, I have something to talk to you about. So, can we please be adults and have an adult discussion here?" He asked you, his voice as monotone as his face looked. You laughed at his words, anger boiling over in you now.
"Now you're calling me a child." You stepped towards Levi and pushed him away from you. "After today you're about to now call me a damn child!" You started to raise your voice, unable to hold the red hot anger inside of you. "Says the man who is child sized!" You were yelling now, shoving Levi again, getting joy from seeing him stumble backwards as you shoved him away.
Levi suddenly pushed your against the stone wall. He grabbed your wrists with one of his hands, pinning them above your head, using the other hand to grip your chin in his hand, his fingernails dug into the skin there.
"Don't fucking call me a child. You have no goddamn idea what I've been threw to get to this point, brat." Levi's voice was so low and monotone it came across as threatening. And it didn't scare you. What scared you were the look in his heavy lidded gray eyes. That look alone could instill fear into even the most fearless person. You remained silent, not sure what to say to that. You tried to get free from his grasp, but he was a boulder, unmovable. You sighed, giving in.
"Are you done?" Levi asked you. His face seemed to have gotten closer to you as time went on, and it scared you because it made your heart race. He smelled like lavender and soap. You yanked away from him again, but this time he let you go. You made your hands into fists at your side, gritting your teeth, wishing to punch his smug face so hard that the skin of your knuckles would crack and possibly break his perfect nose.
Levi sighed at you and started to walk down the hall. When he noticed you weren’t following him he turned his head over his shoulder and said to you, "You coming or not, brat?"
"Call me that again, and let's see what happens, Levi." You threatened him. Levi raised an eyebrow and looked down at you. If he was capable of smiling you'd think he'd be doing it right now.
The two of you walked the hall, and ended up in Levi's private quarters. You'd never been there before due to the fact he was an anal clean freak. You doubt even Erwin was allowed in there without recently having taken a bath. Levi opened the door and let you inside. As you stepped in it looked as you'd imagine it to look. Barely anything personal in there, and it looked like a show room it was so spotless and bare.
As you looked around his room Levi approached you and stood in front of you, his head coming a few inches above where yours did. He had a more serious look then normal in his heavy lidded gray eyes as his eyes meet yours.
"What happened today?" He asked you right out of the gate. Levi always got to the point, and you hated that about him.
"Why don't you tell me what happened today, Captain." You said Captain in a snippy tone of voice.
"I'm asking you what happened. You're obviously upset, so what happened from your perspective?" Levi asked again.
"My perspective? You don't see it the same way I do, and you never will. So why should I tell-" Levi didn't let you finished. He grabbed your hips and shoved you against a wall, both his hands pressed against the wall by your head. He glared down at you, anger filling his usually blank expression. He stood there, pinning you to the wall, silent for a long moment. His chest heaving he was so angry. He never broke the silence, so you did because him being this close to you made your heart race and your palms sweaty.
"I had that titan at the end. I know it was gonna be close, but I had it. And instead of letting me finish it off, you had to swoop in and get the glory of killing the last titan. Because you can't let me be good as well, Levi. You always have to be better then me." You finally admitted to him. Your sweaty palms were in fists at the fact you hated yourself for feeling this way around him, and for him making you talk about this when you clearly didn't want to.
"That wasn't the last titan." Levi told you in his deep monotone voice.
"What do you mean?" You asked, confused.
"There was one more titan. One was running towards you as you went for what you thought was the last titan. I killed that titan seconds before it got to you, and the other titan you had was about to swing his arm at you. It would have crushed you into a mangled mess, and would had killed you if I hadn't pushed you away." Levi told you.
You stood there, your throat felt dry. You broke eye contact and stared at the floor, ashamed and upset with yourself. Now that Levi said that to you you remembered that hand coming for you, but you thought you'd make it, not giving it a second thought. Plus, you weren't even aware of that second titan. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. But instead you were still pinned against a wall under Captain Levi.
You couldn't take it anymore. It was too much. This new information and how Levi was actually protecting you this whole time when you thought he was just always taking your glory was too much. But you were arrogant and afraid to admit maybe Levi is the better Scout then you. And that he'd make it to the end of time when you wouldn't make it more then a few more years. You pushed Levi away from you, walking to the other side of the room, your back to him as you crossed your arms and stared at his spotless floor. Levi let you out of his grasp, letting you have your moment.
"Is that how you think of me, y/n?" Levi asked you. "Do you just think I'm there to take your moment and to show you that I'm better then you?" You didn’t respond, which told Levi all he needed. "I don't care about any of that. We are all here for one others best interests."
"Shut up." You mumbled under your voice. You didn't want to hear it anymore.
"I'm not gonna let you die, y/n. I'm gonna protect you in situations like that." Levi continued to talk.
"Shut up, Levi." You warned him as you begun to raise your voice.
"What is your problem, brat?"
"Just shut up!" You screamed as you spun around and shoved Levi away from you. "Why do you care so much!? I'm gonna die anyway! We all do eventually in this world!" You contained to scream, shoving Levi harder and harder as you pushed him away from you.
Levi suddenly grabbed you and threw you on the bed, he was on top of you in seconds, pinning all your extremities down. He was so fast you didn’t even see him move it happened so quick. You screamed to thrashed trying to break free of his hold.
"Because I can't, y/n! Okay!" Levi yelled at you. "I can't let you die because I can't lose anymore people that I care about!" You stopped screaming once those words left Levi's lips. You froze, staring up into the man’s gray eyes. His chest was heaving again, his eyes stared intensely down at you. “So stop making it so fucking hard!” Levi screamed at you, his grip so tight on your wrists his nails bit into your skin.
Suddenly, out of no where Levi leaned down and crashed his lips against yours. You stiffened underneath him, not expecting him of all people to be kissing you right now. Plus, you’d never been kissed before. This world didn’t make it easy to have relationships. His lips moved hungrily against yours, as if desperate. You tried kissing him back, unsure of yourself and not sure why you weren’t screaming and shoving him off of you. You had stopped thinking and just let yourself be in the moment. Levi softly moaned against your mouth as you parted your mouth and he let his tongue graze your teeth. He stopped kissing you so hard and messily, now he was kissing you at a slow pace, letting his lips linger. He was breathing hard threw his nose, his warm breath brushing over your face. You felt his grip lessen against your wrists as both of you started to calm down a little. He pulled away from you, but kept his forehead pressed against yours. You opened your eyes and looked up at him. He still had his eyes closed, his breathing started to even out. You wanted to hold him, he looked so fragile and broken in that moment, but he still had your hands pinned under his.
"I can't lose you too, y/n." Levi spoke to you in a low voice, his gray eyes suddenly opened, filled with such pain that it broke your heart. Even with the few words he just spoke it spoke volumes to you, and in that moment you knew he meant it and had always meant it. And that he had lost more people then you thought.
You knew nothing about the Captain. No one did. All you knew is he was from the underground, which that alone was a hard early life to live, and that Erwin found him and convinced him to join the scouts. That’s it. There had been many myths and rumors about the man, but he never confirmed or denied any of those tales.
Levi eventually sat back using your hips as a seat for him to sit on, his legs straddling your sides. He hands pressed against his knees, his eyes trained on yours. His eyes looked at you now with a tenderness you'd never seen in that mans eyes before. You could feel the heat that radiated off of him, and his soap and lavender sent is all that filled your sense. Your hands were in fists above your head where Levi had just pinned you down. You felt anger for him making you feel like this, and that he wasn’t stopping anytime soon. You hated him, so why were you feeling this way?
"Levi," you started to ask, "Do you genuinely care about me?"
"I promised myself I never would care about another human when I joined the Scouts. And you broke that rule for me." Levi admitted to you in his odd way. He cared about you, that was now the undeniable fact now.
"For how long?" You asked. You hated laying on his bed as he sat above you, but if you sat up you’d be pressed up against him, and you chose to stay on the bed, afraid if you were close to him again you’d lose all sense of logic like you had just done.
"Since you joined the Scouts." Levi informed you.
You took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling, not sure what you were feeling, and unable to process what Levi just told you. You felt Levi pressed his slender hand against your side, a gentle touch you’d never think the Captain was capable of. You meet his gray eyes again, his eyes watching you.
“You don’t have to feel the same, y/n. I know you hate me. And that’s okay. But do not ask me to not protect you. That I won’t ever agree too.” Levi told you. You shook your head and pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes, exhaling hard.
“What are you thinking?” Levi asked you.
“I have no idea. I have no idea what to think.” You snapped at him, sitting up now, your chest pressed against him you were so close to him. “I hate you, Levi. But I don’t know. Fuck.” You look at the bed, away from his eyes, breathing hard, the stress of everything getting to you.
Levi wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed his open palm against the small of your back. “You don’t need to have any answers, or to know how you feel. We live in this disgusting world, and I’ve lost so many before. I watched my own mother die as a starving child and stayed in her room with her rotting corpse so days on end. So, we don’t have to be in a relationship, we don’t have to love each other. All I know is I care about you so much I’d burn the world for you. If you like it when I touch you, when I kiss you, if you even feel remotely the same as I do for you, that’s all that matters. Nothing else.” Levi reassured you. You took a deep breath to try to calm down, which just pressed your chest harder against Levi’s firm chest. You nodded, pressing your forehead against his, holding his angular face in your hands.
“I like when you touch me.” You told Levi as you closed your eyes, taking another deep breath, his clean lavender sent filled your senses. He wrapped both his arms around your waist, his hands gripped your sides as if afraid of losing you.
“I’m afraid I’ll regret this.” Levi admitted to you.
“Because I’m terrified of losing another person I care about.” The pain was so evident in his voice it hurt your heart.
“I’m not going anywhere, Levi.”
“You better not, brat.”
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OMG! I just hit 392 followers and I realized I have to figure out what to do when I hit 400! I had a lot of fun with my last sleepover so I was thinking maybe I’d do another one of those but I was also thinking maybe I could do another prompt list because I haven’t done one since I hit 50 followers. Any ideas/ suggestions?
Character: Childe, gn!reader
Word Count: 2,581
Premise: In which there is an argument and the reader disappears.
Author’s Note: Childe my favorite character, how I love to torture you.
But genuinely I really like how this one came out.
Childe craned his neck to stare at the clock on the wall behind him. Sighing at the lateness of the afternoon he turned back towards the papers in his lap, trying desperately to focus, to not let his thoughts drift off to the argument that had taken place in the morning.
It had started out simple enough. Childe had informed you that he might be gone for some time, as the Tsaritsa had requested a high-level reconnaissance mission, and Childe was to be the one to lead it. He thought that you react much the way that you always had, assurances of his success, light-hearted reminders to stay safe, and a goodbye kiss as you two settled back into a normal routine before the day of departure. Instead however, your lips had slanted into a frown, and you stopped making your breakfast to turn and face your partner.
“Childe, I wish you wouldn’t always take things on yourself.”
“What do you mean darling?” Childe felt a wave of surprise wash over him. After all, what else was he supposed to do?
“I mean that you’re being entirely too reckless Childe. You know that you have too high a profile to be doing stuff like this. I… I would like you to sit this one out. Just this one.”
Childe couldn’t help but laugh, whether out of irritation or genuine amusement he wasn’t sure of. “As much as I appreciate the concern, I can’t do that. No leader worth their salt would send their underlings off alone, even if they are some of the weakest underlings in the world. No one’s been able to pull the wool over me yet darling, it’ll be perfectly alright.”
“You’re not listening to me,” your voice picked up in intensity. “Childe I really try, I try to remind myself that you’re a Harbinger and able to take care of yourself; but sometimes it’s just too much. This is too much.”
“You’re being silly,” Childe said, trying to keep his tone light. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I can’t disobey the Tsaritsa. She wishes me to do this so I will. It’s as simple as that.”
“The Tsaritsa is far away, she has hundreds, thousands under her command. She won’t bat an eye at your safety.”
“Like you said, I can take care of myself.”
“But what if one day you can’t? What if, what if one day you don’t come back. Please, just this once; just this once don’t go.”
“I know that the length of time is upsetting, but you can’t react like this every time I have to go away for a while. I promise that you’ll have me all to yourself afterwards.”
“It’s not about that Childe! Please, please listen to me. I’m worried about your safety. I’m worried one of these days you’re going to end up in a fight too big even for you. What will you do then? What will your underlings do? What will I do? Please, tell the Tsaritsa you have to stay and make sure the Bank stays out of trouble, or that nothing happens in Liyue. Please, don’t go this time.”
“You’re being irrational.” By now Childe was definitely irritated.
“No, I’m being realistic. You don’t take care of yourself enough.”
“You’re just underestimating me. Besides, I’m a better fighter than you’ll ever be. It’s not like you can protect me even if I stayed here.”
“It’s not like staying in Liyue would be any safer, better to face things head on. For the Tsaritsa, for Snezhnaya, that is the most important thing. If you can’t see that, you’re just being stupid.”
Although Childe regretted the words almost immediately after they left his mouth he could see that saying that would’ve had no effect. So instead he watched silently as your face clouded over and you stormed out the door, not bothering to grab your food as you slung your pack around you back and walked out. A part of him wanted to call after you, but he knew that even if he did you probably wouldn’t listen. Even if you did, what could he say? After all, he had simply spoken the truth; even if you couldn’t accept it as such.
Now Childe sat on the couch, eyes glazing voer as he stared at all the paperwork that needed to be done before his mission. He had already spent a hectic, uneasy day at the bank. Though he knew that none of his underlings would be foolish enough to try to pull something while he was gone, Andrei would make sure of that and Childe would make sure of Andrei, it was still tedious, boring work. This was in no way helped by the lingering ill will from his fight with you earlier. Though Childe ultimately forgot fights relatively quickly the time right after was always an uneasy one, filled with sudden flashes of irritation replaced suddenly by the wish for it all to have never happened.
He had hoped that you might be home by the time he arrived, but your absence wasn’t truly much of a surprise. Besides the fact that you were still probably angry with him, something Childe couldn’t really fault, you had recently been involved with some project near the Chasm, and it was hardly surprising that something that big caused you late hours. Still he couldn’t deny the fact that he was somewhat disappointed, or maybe disheartened was a better way to put it. He hated fighting with you, especially fights that lasted. Even if he was irritated with you, even if he thought that you had demanded something impossible, he still regretted snapping at you. He just wanted you to come home now, that way he could apologize and explain the situation better. That way he wouldn’t leave with any ill will behind him.
The clock was excruciatingly slow, but the insult of that wasn’t registered until Childe dozed off. Waking up in the middle of the night he was surprised at your continued absence. Though he had expected that sleeping on the couch might’ve happened, your total disappearance was certainly something that threw him for a loop. Making his way to the bedroom and flopping down on the bed Childe closed his eyes, pushing away the anxiety that clustered at the edge of his thoughts.
Perhaps you’d ended up staying with Hu Tao, or maybe you’d gone back home to your family. He had been awfully mean after all, and you were never the kind of person to take his insults sitting down. Still, if that were true why hadn’t you packed more, or come back to collect your things? It didn’t make any sense. Questions and half baked reasonings floated through Childe head as he tried to delay the inevitable pull of sleep. The last conscious thought he could remember was the knowledge that at least you would be back tomorrow.
You were not, in fact, home tomorrow. The Harbinger’s time spent at the Northland Bank was almost completely useless, the meeting with the people he’d be going on his mission with even more so. Though Childe wasn’t necessarily the most attentive listener, often letting his mind wander when his fellow Fatui members fell into arguing about the most insipid things, he knew that paying attention to a plan as a whole was critical to its success. Even so he couldn’t bring his mind to focus on the maps and profiles that sat in front of him. Where were you? It seemed like such a silly question, but the longer it floated in Childe’s head the colder he felt.
Finally the meetings and the menial tasks ended and Childe could go home. Sprinting down the winding streets of Liyue, not bothering to hide the fact he was in a hurry, Childe burst into the apartment. His heart sank as he was met with the same image he’d seen when he’d left that morning.
Afterwards Childe wandered around the docks of Liyue, trying to keep the quickly fragmenting pieces of his mind together. He knew that he was probably overreacting, knew that you were simply staying away because of what he said, knew that it wouldn’t be forever – you would have definitely told him if that were the case. Still he couldn’t help but feel dread crawling over him, saturating the cracks of his brain as he wondered how he’d managed to fuck everything up so much. He had underestimate how much his words must have affected you, and that only made him feel worse. Finally exhausting his walk along the pier Childe set off towards the edges of the city and into the vast wilderness of Liyue. He needed to find something to fight.
The nightmare continued on into the next day, then into the day after that. Childe could barely remember what he did during those days, walking around as if possessed, unable to concentrate on anything for more than a few moments before his thoughts inevitably found their way back to you. Mostly Childe ended up sleeping, dozing off at his desk or on the couch, papers fluttering from his hands onto the floor. Mostly Childe dreamed of you.
They weren’t dreams of any particular note, their contents incredibly mundane. Not that it matter to Childe; within those dreams he felt nothing but happy domesticity, a calm that washed over him as he walked with you to the market or lay next to you under the stars. Always you would appear in his dreams suddenly, and always he would throw his arms around you, clinging to you as if even an embrace wasn’t enough. Always he woke up with a sense of desolation so vast it threatened to consume him.
Finally on the fifth day Childe couldn’t take it anymore. Waking up at almost the crack of dawn the Harbinger rushed to the Bank. He wouldn’t stay long, only enough to inform Andrei that he’d be out for the day. Then he’d go to the Guild and check and make sure everything was okay. Then, well he’d figure out what to do then. It seemed pathetic to chase after you, not to mention gross. He wouldn’t become a stalker, wouldn’t let himself fall into such pathetic behavior. Still, he had to make sure you were at least okay. As long as he did that, well, the rest could come later.
Striding into the Bank Childe was met with a surprising sight. Normally Ekaterina stayed firmly tucked inside her receptionist cubby, even more antisocial than the likes of the Balladeer or the Fatui that guarded Dragonspine. Now however she stood at the front of the booth, wringing her hands this way and that as she stared at a piece of paper in front of her. Feeling a sudden sense of dread Childe walked up to her.
“Oh!” Ekaterina whirled around, look on her face one of utter anxiety. “My lord, I was horrified to hear of the news, tell me, do you know if they’re almost free?”
“What are you talking about?” Childe narrowed his eyes.
“Why, your partner. I only heard today from Nadia; no wonder you’ve been so distant recently, if it’s not too much for me to say so. I only hope that they’ll soon be rescued, I’m sure you know about the situation better than I do though.”
“Ekaterina, what in the Tsaritsa’s name are you talking about?”
A shadow passed over Ekaterina’s face, a look of utter dread. Swallowing slightly she stared at a spot in the wall right to the side of Childe. “You partner, my lord, I’ve been informed that they have become trapped in one of the caverns of the Chasm. I thought that you knew about it, it’s been five days after a–”
Childe didn’t hear the rest of what Ekaterina had to say. Whirling around the Harbinger slammed his way out of the bank, aiming towards the nearest waypoint. Cold dread washed over him and with it desperate determination. He’d rescue you. If he had to tear apart the entire Chasm and raze all the mountains in Liyue to the ground so be it.
Approaching the Chasm Childe felt a rush of adrenaline wash over him. He was terrified. By the Seven, he was utterly terrified. Images of you flashed in his mind, images of you cowering in the dark, stuck at the bottom of an endless pit, lying on the ground with no air or food or life in you. How could he have let this happen? How could he have not known of this before? Anger burned within Childe, anger at himself. He should have never let you walk out of your apartment without apologizing first. He should have enquired after you after the first night you didn’t show up. He should’ve been the first person there for you, instead of the last person to know. He was so utterly stupid.
Approaching what must’ve been the site of the accident Childe felt his stomach drop to his feet at the sight of you. You were covered in dirt, cuts spread across your arms and legs as you slumped against a Guild member, dragging your feet in an awkward shuffle towards the stretcher that must’ve been meant to bring you to the apothecary. There were a variety of Guild members flocking around you, along with one of the doctors of Liyue, who was scribbling notes down furiously. Your expression was utterly dazed, as if you weren’t exactly sure of what was going on, something that tore Childe apart.
Stepping towards you Childe called out your name. At the sound your head jerked up, and you gave a hoarse sort of cry before turning to make your way towards him. Sprinting towards you Childe stepped backwards as you fell awkwardly into him. Steadying you for a moment before wrapping his arms around you Childe felt all his emotions crashing over him, so intense that he couldn’t control them anymore. Ignoring the tears that tracked their way down his cheeks the Harbinger let out a shudder.
“Thank the Seven, thank the Seven you’re safe. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. You don’t have to forgive me, alright? You don’t have to forgive me, but by the gods I’m so sorry.”
“I wish you had been there,” you mumbled softly. “It was so dark, I couldn’t see anything. I thought, I thought that I might never see you again.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I said all those things to you, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“It’s not fine. You should’ve fold so easily you know, you should be really, really angry at me.”
“I don’t want to be angry at you though, I just want you to stay.”
“Then I will,” Childe tightened his embrace around you. “I promise I will.”
Having apparently said everything that had to be said you let Childe sling you onto his back, refusing to be carried to the hospital in the stretcher. As you appeared to doze off on his back Childe made a promise to himself. Even if he couldn’t disobey the Tsaritsa, even if he couldn’t change who he was, he would never leave you when you needed him to be there.
You would never find yourself needing him to be there without the chance of your need being met. That he promised you.
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BISEXUAL COLORS AND BISEXUAL LOKI
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workaholic (tattooartist!jean x reader, angst, fluff and smut (??) eventually, choose your own adventure fic) | midnight snack // next | tw: cursing
You pride yourself on being a hard worker. While this is a recent development, it’s become a core part of who you are. It’s not that you didn’t care about working before, it’s that you care more about it now than you ever have. Now that you have sights on your dream job, you make it a point to stand out amongst the rest of your coworkers. You want your superiors to know that, out of every other intern at your film studio, you are the one destined to become a part of the elite. You are the one who is going to make history as a director.
At least, that’s what you tell yourself.
In reality, the reason you work so hard is bi-fold. Yes, you want to make your presence known at your job, but you also desperately need a distraction from your depressing personal life.
When you started at your company, everything was going really well for you! You were on track to graduate with honors at your university, your relationship with your friends was better than it ever had been before, and your relationship with your boyfriend, Eren, was even better. Then, the Wednesday of your first week of your internship, everything went to shit.
You started that day by waking up to a message from a number you’d never seen before. The person in the message, who blocked you immediately after sending it, admitted to sleeping with your darling boyfriend. As if that wasn’t a punch in the gut, they included photographic evidence. Perhaps a bit too much photographic evidence, if you’re being honest. So, of course, you immediately called Eren to give him a piece of your mind. The call went straight to voicemail. To this day, you haven’t heard a word from him since the night before this anonymous message. So, you called your boss instead to tell him that you’ll be a bit late for work today, making up some excuse about your car battery dying. As you hauled yourself out of bed, shaking and crying the whole way, you opened Snapchat to shoot a message in the groupchat you shared with your college friends. You were hoping for a bit of sympathy, but instead you found that the chat had disappeared entirely. You thought that maybe this was a glitch, so you attempted to make a new one, only to discover that every single person in the chat blocked you overnight. Again, you haven’t heard anything from them since the night before the end of your social life.
So, here you are, on a Friday night, laying in your bed and staring at the ceiling. No friends, no love life, no fun to speak of.
This is the way things go nowadays. At first, it was difficult to adjust to. Now, you’re six months into your new weekend routine. Sometimes, you like to spice it up by going to the bookstore by yourself on Sunday mornings. Usually, you just make midnight trips to the gas station two blocks from your apartment to buy junk food and cigarettes. Both of these, much like your commitment to your job, are tools to fill the void left by your ex-boyfriend and ex-friends.
You know that you’re capable of making connections. Even though you seem like a workaholic introvert to the few people that remain in your life, you’re actually pretty far from it. At least, you used to be. You just can’t even attempt to go through the process of meeting new people nowadays. You’ve become too comfortable in your new identity as a hermit to allow that.
You take a break from studying the texture of your ceiling to glance at your phone. It’s 11:43pm -- just about time to head to the 7-11 down the street. This habit is the highlight of your weekends. The closest thing you have resembling a friend is the attendant that works the overnight shift on the weekends, Raul. You enjoy his small talk, but more importantly, you enjoy the fact that he never pries. There have been many occasions where you walked in to buy your usual bag of chips and pack of Camel Crushes after a very cathartic, very obvious cry session. Every single time, he pretends as though he can’t see it.
As you grab your ratty hoodie, you consider your options for your Friday night snack. Last Friday, you opted for a bag of Takis. This week, you’re craving something different, something bold, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. You typically try to spend as little time in the gas station as possible, but you can’t help but feel like you’re going to be spending a lot of time gawking at the chip aisle this evening.
You grab your wallet and slip out of your first floor apartment, locking the door behind you. The walk to the 7-11 is short and uneventful, as always. As you enter the annoyingly bright store, Raul waves to you. Your eyes flick over to him and you offer a weak smile. You beeline for the chip aisle to begin the process of choosing your “different”, “bold” snack for tonight.
Just as you’ve narrowed the selection down to three different choices, you hear the door chime, signaling the arrival of another patron. Dread settles down into the pit of your stomach as you hurriedly grab a bag of Cheetos Popcorn. You practically sprint toward the counter to purchase it and a new pack of cigarettes.
“Hey, Raul,” you greet.
Your voice is scratchy from hours of inactivity, to your surprise.
“Hey, (Y/N), having a good night tonight?”
“Yeah,” you scoff, “living the dream.”
“Tell me about it,” Raul sighs.
Another thing you love about Raul is his unwavering pessimism. It’s oddly comforting to you.
“Let me guess, a pack of Camel Crushes?” he asks, sarcasm edging into his normally flat affect.
“You know me so well.”
As he turns to retrieve the cigarettes, you suddenly feel a tingling sensation in your back, announcing the presence of someone behind you. Not only that, but your gut tells you that they’re staring directly at you. You can feel the sweat starting to stain the pits of your t-shirt. You thank the stars that you decided to put on your hoodie before leaving the house.
“Those are bad for you, you know,” a familiar voice drawls behind you.
Your hands clench into fists at your sides, so hard that your fingernails leave crescent shapes in your palm. Your breath catches in your throat as you turn to face the source of this comment.
Jean looks about the same as he did the last time you saw him, save for a sparse goatee and another half an inch added to the length of his “y’allternative” mullet, as he so affectionately dubbed it. You also notice an addition or two to his extensive collection of tattoos. This doesn’t surprise you, however, since he seemed to have a new one every time you saw him in the past. While this is not the worst case scenario, he is not very high on the list of people you’d want to run into while looking like you crawled out of the nearest dumpster.
“Hey, Jean,” you squeak, “Good to see you.”
Jean’s serious face cracks into a smile as soon as you speak. Whether it’s because he’s genuinely happy to see you or if the state of you is amusing to him is unclear to you. You assume it’s the latter.
“Calm down, Jaeger isn’t with me,” he chuckles.
You hadn’t even considered the possibility until he said something. In the six months since your breakup, you’d gotten pretty decent at erasing the existence of Eren Jaeger from your memory (until the clock strikes 3AM).
While Jean and Eren knew each other, no one would describe their relationship as exactly “friendly”. They share a group of friends from their hometown, but the two have always been at each other’s throats from what you hear. A huge responsibility of Armin, one of Eren’s best friends, is keeping the peace whenever Jean and Eren find themselves in the same room. You always felt bad for Armin, and Jean for that matter. Even though you never expressed this, you didn’t understand why Jean made Eren so angry. And, because of Eren’s possessive nature, you never got to find out.
“I--I didn’t think he was,” you manage to choke out.
Jean’s cheeky smile falters a bit as your eyes meet the floor.
“Listen,” he says, his voice now quiet and solemn, “I know it probably doesn’t mean a lot coming from me, but I think what he did was a dick move. You always seemed really nice, and… I can see that it really messed you up.”
You can feel tears start to brim your eyes. After months of no comforting words from anyone, Jean’s sincerity is overwhelming. Necessary, gratifying, but overwhelming.
“Thanks, Jean,” you whisper after a moment of silence.
As you turn to finish your purchase, using the sleeve of your most well-loved jacket to wipe your eyes, Jean speaks once more.
“Hey, um, I’m actually on my way home right now. I was just gonna watch some T.V or something. If you want, you could swing by.”
(a/n): so while i was writing this today i had an idea... what if we made this a choose your own adventure type thing?? this is absolutely a trial run, and we're just gonna see where this goes. i'm including the link to a google form below. it's timed -- it'll stop accepting responses this friday night/saturday morning (6/25-26/21) at midnight central time. based on the responses, i'll write the next part. i plan to have that up by next tuesday, 6/30/21 :)
do you go with jean to his place?
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Loki in a turtleneck yessir
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Late Morning Lattes
pairing • fred weasley x reader
prompts • coffee shop, “I missed something, didn’t I?”
warnings • it mostly just fluff
word count • 1k
a/n • just let me lead you on for a moment. I could have made it longer but I think it’s sweet this way.
The summer months had been much kinder to Y/n than she thought they would be. She spent most of her days exploring. Enjoying the fleeting moments of freedom before she’d have to start a career. Her parents were kind enough to pay her way as she did so. In return she often found herself keeping an eye on her younger brother when she was home.
He was starting his second year at Hogwarts, still soaking in the magical place. Umbridge had put a damper on his first impression but he was determined to make the second one worthwhile. Because of this, he never failed to drag his sister to the Weasley’s shop almost every chance he got. Y/n would be lying if she said she hated it though. Afterall, the place was impressive to say the least. That and she got to see Fred.
When they walked in Fred was always quick to approach, ready to gush about any new products. As soon as her brother would wander off Weasley would flirt shamelessly just to catch her blushing. It never failed. Despite his confidence, it took him a while to work up the nerve to ask her out. Fred almost pinched himself when she said yes, sure it was a dream. The pair had been friends throughout the years but nothing had ever happened. Fred always knew she was serious about academics which he admired. Yet that was exactly why he never pursued her, sure that she’d brush him off.
The following morning Y/n rushed to the tiny coffee shop in Diagon Alley. She couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off her face as she walked through the crowded street. The tiny bell above the door gave her away as she stepped inside.
Fred stood from his spot almost instantly, nearly knocking his chair over. The commotion drew a few pairs of eyes but he failed to notice. “Good morning!” He beamed, straightening out the fabric of his button up as she joined him.
“Morning!” Y/n mused, slipping into his arms for a brief hug. Her skin tingling from such a simple touch.
A thousand thoughts seemed to railroad their way through his mind as he soaked her in. Like the way her hair fell so effortlessly on her shoulders. Or how innocent her pastel sundress seemed yet, it clung to her body in all the right places.
“Go ahead and sit, I’ll go order. What’s your pick?” Fred asked, pulling her chair out for her.
She tucked her dress as she sat, a small hum leaving her lips. “A small chai latte, and uh- a blueberry muffin.” She answered, flashing him a thankful smile. He offered her a small nod and left her.
Y/n watched as he stood in line with his hands tucked in the pockets of his slacks. She pondered to herself if he knew how good he looked even when he wasn’t trying, surely he had to. His sleeves were rolled carefully to reveal his muscular forearms. Even his hair was quaffed in a perfect mess. Every bit of him fit together to make such a beautiful man before her.
A blush rushed across her face as he glanced over at her with a wink. She quickly looked down at her hands, squirming in her seat. After a few moments he sauntered back to her with their drinks. As he sat them down he noticed a pause in her reaction. “I missed something, didn’t I?” He asked with a chuckle.
“Muffin.” They both spoke in unison as realization hit him. The two laughed at the jinx and he rushed back to get it. In a matter of seconds he was back, sitting it carefully in front of her. “Thank you, Freddie.” Y/n said sheepishly, earning a classic grin from the twin in response.
It was a name many had used for him yet it felt even more special hearing it fall from her lips. “Of course, Love. How is it?” Fred asked. He watched her with genuine interest as she took a bite.
“Delicious.” She noted. Y/n broke a piece from the opposite side for him which he gladly accepted. A small moan left him as he tasted it. Again, messing with her sanity without even noticing. She simply chuckled and shook her head.
Fred sat back in his chair with an exaggerated look of confusion. “What!? What did I do?” He exclaimed, with a chuckle.
Y/n sat up straight in response to the question. She dragged her cup to her lips and sipped slowly through a smile. “Nothing.” She settled, not ready to reveal the truth.
He raised his brows and waited, knowing she’d break. She squinted her eyes challengingly at him before giggling. “I don’t know. You just.. you make me nervous.” She admitted with a soft sigh.
“Good.” Fred grinned, leaning forward onto his elbows. “That means we’re even then.” He continued.
Y/n knitted her brows together. “Wait, you mean I make The Fred Weasley nervous?” She asked. A feeling of pride washed over her and apparently it was fairly noticeable.
Fred chucked a crumb at her playfully. “Don’t go around telling people. I have a reputation to protect.” He warned jokingingly.
From then on out the conversation seemed to roll effortlessly. Y/n spoke about her travels which seemed to enamor Fred. He gushed about the likelihood of opening a new store soon. They bonded over their sibling’s quirks and the oddities of their respective families. Even a few competitive arguments about the changes on the quidditch teams.
Hours had passed without their knowledge, smiles never leaving each other’s faces. Once the pair resurfaced in reality, a wave of sadness washed over Y/n. There wasn’t enough time in the day to spend with someone like him. He was everything she had hoped.
Fred was quick to ask for a second date, their first one barely over. He was convinced she was gonna be a love worth fighting for. Nothing excited him more.
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