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watiamdoingwithmylife666 · 3 years

Note

Hello !! I saw your Headcanon for Aot and I thought about how they would react if the reader (their s/o) saved their life ! Like for once they are the one needed to be saved and you save the day and all ! thank youuu !

Hii, I did my best, i hope you like it!

Warning: grammar error / curse?

Eren

Knowing Eren as much as you do make you always looking after him. And it has been useful a lot of time. But this time even more. You were together wandering in the city during your day off. Everything was fine, both of you were enjoying the sunny day. But that's until a group of men jumps on you and tried to put Eren in the back of the cart that pulls over a little bit further. You quickly fight back and manage to overcome two of them. After that You rush by Eren's side who was struggling to fight back against three other guys, together you briefly knock those guys before escaping in a hurry.

When you finally get back to the survey corp, you go warn the captain about what happened in the city. It's only after that you could have some peaceful time with Eren to talk about what happened.

"Thanks... For... You know, what you did. Thank you."

Jean

It's not unusual that you save Jean, or Jean saves you. You two are always here to save the ass of the other. Always grateful, he mostly repays you with extra food or doing a chore that you really don't want to do. But on a particular expedition, when things were heat, you didn't saw Jean anywhere in the field. The stress took over you and your eyes are scanning the area for more information. That's when you finally get your eyes on him that your heart dropped. Jean was in a bad state, you did as fast as you could to get him and bring him to the infirmary. He did lose a lot of blood, but he wasn't in danger anymore.

You decided to stay by his side the whole afternoon, you needed to be sure he was okay. So when he woke up, you had a big smile on your face, and he smiled back at you. Jean wanted to talk but his mouth was dried, you had to make him drank some water before he could finally talk.

"Damn, if I knew they had a pretty nurse here I would have come more often" you laugh at his remark, he was always playing the tough guy, even when he was hurt. "Thank you. You saved me again, it's like what? 7 for you and ... 5 for me?" He laughs but he looked sad now. "Maybe I'm not made for the survey corps... You gonna get tired to save my life when I can't even do it by myself..."

Sasha

Not that much to say, she will be grateful would do the same for you anytime. The situation doesn't even matter, if you save her, her eyes gonna be quickly wet and she will cry saying thank you for what you did. But don't hope that she will give you any food as a gift.

"Thank you! thank you so much! I always knew you were the best here!"

Mikasa

Mikasa was surrounded by titans, I mean everybody was in a difficult situation. But when you saw Mikasa in danger your blood run cold and join her in the middle of her surrounding. She was yelling at you to go away, that she can totally handle it on her own. But there is no way you leave her side. Slicing Titan's naps, again and again, You probably never killed that many titans in so little time, but the fact that Mikasa was in danger made you turn in the best soldier mode. Finally, when the danger was away from the two of you, you didn't take time to talk, other comrades needed your help right now. It's only on your way back that you felt something off. Most of the time, if it's not every time; Mikasa asked you if you are okay, or if you had been hurt. But not this time. She's next to you on her horse, but she doesn't look at you not even a glance. She's looking straightforward and that's all.

That's only later that day, just after diner, that your silent treatment was ending. She sat on her bed and asked you to sit next to her. She finally talked

"What you did today... It scared me. I thought I'd lose you, but you need to understand! I can't lose you! If you had been hurt today, it would have been because of me, and I couldn't handle the fact that I failed to protect you."

Levi

He would be so pissed off. His ego would be the problem. But he will never show you that. He gonna keep to himself the fact that you had to save him because he was careless, and he gonna be even rougher on himself with the training because that means he fails his team.

The situation would have happened outside of the wall, in the forest, where everyone was separated, and when everything gets overwhelming for everyone including you and Levi. It's not that he never face that many enemies at the same time. It's mostly because he was far too much tired, this boy didn't sleep well for a long time plus he was fighting all day. He was pushing his luck too far, and that is why you kept an eye on him, in case of something dramatic happened you could be there for him. And you were right. Too many things happened at the same time. That's how Levi didn't saw a titan behind him and kept fighting until he catches a glance at you at full speed coming near him. The look that crosses his face the moment he realizes what you did. His heart stopped for a second.

"thank you."

But even after saying thank you, when you get back home at the SC, he would asked you if he can offer a cup of tea as a thank.

"Thank you again Y/N, you fought well."

Erwin

This bitch had the audacity to say that he can be replaced. So let take this scene. Erwin just gave the order to charge and save Eren, the titan bite his arm, and you immediately turn over to follow him telling everyone that you're going to save him. Following him, you can see that he managed to get away from the titan. He was now yelling at you that you disobey, that you put yourself in danger for him, and that it was stupid. But before he could finish, some titans approach the two of you real quick making Erwin fall. You put yourself between him and the threat just in time, cutting the naps of any titans coming nearby your commander. As soon as possible you help Erwin to get back on his horse and do the same; Calling for retreat You keep an eye on him the whole way back within the wall. You can clearly see he doesn't feel good. His face is vivid, his eyes grow tired. So you're going with Erwin on his horse. The commander is big and you have some difficulties keeping him straight, you can feel his body becoming heavier the more you advance. You talk to him, ask him to not fall asleep, and he swears he does his best, but the rush of adrenaline that kept him awake fades with time.

Later that week, when you can finally see him you rush to his room. Levi just left, leaving you and the commander alone. He doesn't say a word at first, but when he finally breaks the silence he breaks your heart with it.

"I had time to think in this state. A part of me wants to say thank you for what you did. You fought well, kept me in security, and even took care of bringing me back... But it was stupid. You put yourself in danger for me when I am nothing more than your commander. Eren was in danger, and our best chance for the future, he was the best option to save. Not me, not after leading so many peoples to their death."

Miche

He has been in a difficult situation, but this time he was wondering how he could possibly survive. His squad and he had been separated. He was now alone smelling like two or three titans coming right in his direction. And the cherry on top, he was on the verge to running of out of gas. He can't see any of his comrades anywhere, his brain shows every possibilities. But the best is still going away by horse and try to find other soldiers. And luckily on his way, he crosses your path and feels relief. A part of him was scared that something happened to you. But just when he sighed, an abnormal titan runs straight to you. Both of you are now ready to fight and when you engage it the titan grabs Miche's wire. With its other hand, the titan grabs Miche's body and brings it to its mouth. But just before the worst happens you slice the nape and catch Miche before he gets crushed by the titan's body.

"It was close... Thank you y/n... Without you, I would have probably not made it alive."

Hange

Oh, welcome to the club, Moblit is the president of the club. Hange is reckless inside the wall when they do their experiments. But outside it's a little bit different. They're more aware of their surrounding. Saving them would happen quite some times. But this time was out of the ordinary. During the first test of the thunder spear, Hange was dangerously close to the spear. Moblit was yelling, as usual, to put some distance with the explosive. But as expected Hange didn't listen. And the spear was just a prototype, at this time, explode. Thank god you were fast, jumping on Hange to take them further. Their eyes were wide open, their look fulls of guiltiness. Moblit joins the two of you quick, asking if any of you had been hurt.

"I am so sorry Y/N, really! I put you in unnecessary danger, I hope you are okay? did you get hurt? Let me take you to the infirmary just in case, please!"

Moblit

Oh sorry, you thought you could save him? This boy is not a titan nor an Ackerman. But he doesn't need that. He is the assistant of Hange, what are you expecting from him? He doesn't need "instinct" like Levi or Mikasa. He got Anxiety, that far better. Every worst scenario happens? He already had them in his mind. The only thing that gets him, it if HE decides to. (like sacrifice himself for hange)

But if you happen to save his ass. Damn he gonna be grateful.

"I am really sorry Y/N, I've been careless. I hope you are not mad at me. I'm so grateful you were here it could have been disastrous... Thank you so much."

Kenny

Kenny and you know each other, not even for illegal things, you just happened to meet him and be nice to him that you became some kind of ... Friends? I mean you don't know shit about his life but it's the same for him. So friends is probably a big word.

But the time you saved him... You didn't really do it on purpose. His squad was at Trost and yours too. He was chasing after a bad guy (how ironic) and you were chasing after a group of people that stole something from the SC. You were running on the roofs using your equipment to go faster. You did not notice on your peripheral vision another group of persons using ODM, no your mind thought it was your squad. So, when a guy appears on the other side pointing a gun in your direction, you didn't think twice. Firing your ODM hook in his leg, before kicking him in the face. But that when you realize. The people approaching weren't your squad. Those were complete strangers.

" Y/N ? What the Fuck are you doing here ?!" you knew this voice and you jump to see his face.

"what? I fucking saved your life, the least you can do is to say thank you! "

"YOU WHAT ? You didn't do shit!"

"This bullet was meant for YOU!"

"You can't prove that, i'm not saying thank you."

#aot headcanon #snk headcanon #eren jeager x reader #erwin smith x reader #levi ackerman x reader #moblit berner x reader #hange zoe x reader #miche zacharius x reader #sasha braus x reader #kenny ackerman x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #armin arlet x reader #jean kirschtein x reader

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iceeckos12 · 3 years

Text

A time travel au. angst and h/c. inspired by this post

Warnings: jon’s very low self-esteem

“What do you think of him?” Jon suddenly asks, staring blankly at the wall of the breakroom.

Tim pauses in the middle of chewing his sandwich to give him a long, considering look.

He’s mostly decided to suspend his disbelief until further notice, simply to keep from losing his mind. What else is one supposed to do when future versions of Jon and Martin, who are also apparently dating, tell you that your workplace is currently involved in a plot to end the world? Ideally he would’ve processed one big revelation at a time, but apparently they don’t have time for that, so goodbye grip on reality, it was nice knowing you. I’ll hit the restart button as soon as things start making sense again.

Tim wipes his hand across his mouth, swallows, and asks, “You mean Jon II?”

Jon rolls his eyes, like Tim’s being obtuse on purpose just to annoy him. “Yes, I mean...him. Me. Jon II.” Then his nose wrinkles amusingly, the same way it always does whenever he says the moniker. He’s hated it since the beginning, but it was a battle he quickly lost, what with all three of his assistants opposing him.

Normally, Tim wouldn’t have thought twice about shrugging and answering, but...Jon’s been uncharacteristically quiet lately. Oh sure, he’d blushed up a storm upon learning that his future self and Martin were dating, and he’d expressed his own misgivings at the beginning, but...since then he’s been eerily, silently watchful. In Tim’s experience, when presented with this sort of puzzle Jon generally buries himself in research, and doesn’t emerge until he’s good and ready to do so.

There’s something else on his mind.

So Tim puts down his sandwich and gives himself a moment to think carefully through his response. “I mean...he’s a lot like you, obviously. But he seems…” What’s a polite way to say, the trauma and the boyfriend seems to have made him a little more easygoing? He certainly smiles more freely than he ever has, which...honestly, makes Tim want to cry sometimes. How horrible, that so much abject cruelty had just made him more kind. “...tired. A little less high-strung?”

“I see,” Jon says, turning his mulish gaze to his curry, dragging his spoon through the thick sauce.

Tim waits a beat longer, but when nothing else seems forthcoming he prompts, “Why do you ask?”

Jon’s reaction is only to press his lips into a thin, tight line. Tim knows this mood; he’s weighing how insecure he’ll look if he says whatever’s actually bothering him out loud, versus how much he wants someone else to hear it. Pushing him now will only make him clam up, so Tim just waits.

Tim’s patience is rewarded when Jon blurts, “But you like him. You...you all do.”

“Yes,” Tim says slowly, because it’s true. Martin’s so enamoured with a Jon that actually likes him that he keeps bringing him tea just to get another glimpse of that gentle, thankful smile, just to strike up another conversation about nothing. Sasha has decided that he’s the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to her, and insists on consulting him whenever she reads a new true statement.

Tim’s personally a little unnerved by the awful, sad way future Jon looks at him sometimes, or the way he flinches back whenever someone tries to touch him without warning. But he’d taken Tim aside and quietly explained everything he knew about what happened to Danny, so.

Oh, Tim thinks, feeling like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. Jon may be an old hand at fooling others with his grumpy persona, but Tim knows that he’s just using it to hide his massive inferiority complex. “Wait, are you jealous?”

Jon ducks his head, and his ears darken. Gotcha, Tim thinks.

“Jon, you know that that’s still you, right?” he explains gently, quietly relieved that it’s not something more complicated. “We like him just as much as we like you, because you’re the same person.”

“But he’s not the same, is he?” Jon protests. “Look at the scars on his neck, on his hand. And he has panic attacks, and he flinches at loud noises, and, and—”

He breaks off, biting down hard on his lip, threading a hand through his hair.

Tim stares at him, feeling off-kilter, like he missed a step coming down the stairs. That doesn’t sound like jealousy. “...Jon?”

Jon shakes his head, his breath escaping him in thready, devastated gasps.

He can’t tell what’s going on in Jon’s head, and it’s starting to scare him. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Jon just sits there for a moment long, tugging at his hair, staring sightlessly at the middle distance. Tim gently untangles his fingers, giving him something a little more solid to hold onto.

“You all like him,” he says at last. “You all...he’s so kind, and he’s funny, and you like him, because someone hurt him first. He’s different—we’re different—because someone cut our throat and burned our hand, and you like him better.”

Tim’s horrified. “Jon—”

“Should I accept that?” he continues, the words flooding from him like a dam finally exploding in a shower of groaning wood and weathered stone. “Do I—how do I carry on knowing that I could be the person I want to become, if only I give myself to monstrosity, if only I let myself be hurt like that?”

“Of course we’re not going to let that happen to you!” Tim interrupts, voice higher and more frightened than he meant it to be. He’s applying duct tape to a raging river. He has no fucking idea how to fix this. “You don’t deserve—”

“Don’t I?” Jon demands, whirling on him, eyes flashing. “Don’t I deserve to be happy? Or am I unworthy of even this kind of improvement? Am I doomed to be like this forever?” Tears well in his eyes, spill over. “Don’t I deserve it?”

And then he slowly, inevitably, dissolves into tears, his slim shoulders shaking as he curls over and buries his face in his elbow. Tim drapes an arm across his back, angling his body so he can gently tuck Jon’s head against his shoulder. He doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to do. Even if Jon were in any shape to hear it, he has no idea how to fix this.

Tim could tell him that he and Martin and Sasha all think that he’s fine the way he is, and it’s the stress of an apparently eldritch job that’s causing him to push people away, but he doubts Jon would believe it. Words mean nothing when actions have been screaming something entirely different all this time, and Jon’s always been more observant than they give him credit for.

“Oh, Jon,” he whispers when the tears finally start to slow, dropping a kiss onto silver and black hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you felt that way.”

Jon pulls away and shrugs, averting his reddened eyes. Tim squeezes his elbow to prevent him from retreating entirely. They sit like that for a moment, Jon going very still and very tense under Tim’s hand, settling into the vulnerability like an open wound.

“I’m sorry,” Jon says finally, sniffing heavily. He’s aiming for his usual brusque, dry tone, but his voice is shaking, and he’s not fooling anyone. “That was unprofessional of me.”

Before Tim can stop himself, an incredulous laugh rips out of him. “Jon,” he says quickly, “We’re well beyond professional. You know that, right? You don’t have to hide from me.”

Jon flushes. “Yes, well—it was unfair for me to put this on you, as your fr—as…” His expression goes all fragile and uncertain, and Tim’s heart aches.

“It’s not unfair,” Tim corrects gently. “As your friend,” and here he pauses for emphasis, “I want to know when you’re feeling like this.”

“Oh,” Jon murmurs, then straightens and scrubs the teartracks from his cheeks. “Oh.”

Tim nods reassuringly, takes a deep breath, and makes an educated guess. “I know you’re scared, Jon. We all are. This place is...horrible, and seeing what you went through is...terrifying. I can’t imagine how that must be for you.” He lets his eyes flicker up. Jon’s still watching him, rapt, and good, good. I haven’t lost him. “I won’t deny that he’s getting along with Sasha and Martin quite well, but...but that’s not because of what he—you—went through. It’s because….right now, you’re pushing people away because you’re scared, but he’s already done that. He knows that pushing people away just means you end up alone. It doesn’t mean he’s a better person, just that he’s a little wiser.”

“But how can you be sure?” Jon asks, leaning forward, eyes big and desperate.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have become your friend if I didn’t like you,” Tim admits unashamedly.

His bold honesty is rewarded by Jon flushing and ducking his head.

“But even so,” he continues, sobering, “Even if you were the worst person on the planet—and you’re not—you wouldn’t deserve to be hurt like that, no matter what the outcome. Does that make sense?”

Jon looks thoughtful as he says, “I—yes. Yes, that makes sense.”

He can tell though, that Jon doesn’t quite believe him. That’s okay—honestly, it’s what he was expecting. Tim’s been running headfirst into the wall that is Jon’s terrible self-esteem for as long as they’ve been friends. This problem is going to take more than one half-assed pep talk.

That’s okay, though. Jon’s worth the effort.

#tma #my writing #iceeckos12 writes

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 111: Smile

"Auror Potter! Auror Potter!" the wizarding press started shouting the instant the doors to the Wizengamot opened following the trial, and Draco watched as Harry's shoulders stiffened. "Smile for the cameras!" one witch shouted.

"Tell us about the case, Auror Potter!"

"How did you catch Hollister?"

"What's the status on your relationship with Ginny Weasley?"

"Smile!"

He watched as Harry carefully put on a mask of indifference, making his face pleasant and amiable in the way that only someone who has spent years in the public eye is able to do.

Harry held up a hand, "Thank you for your interest in this case. We're asking that you respect the Griffiths Family's privacy as they go through the aftermath of this harrowing ordeal. Alden Hollister has been brought to justice; I will leave it to the court reporter to give you more of the details."

The reporters started in shouting at him once more, asking all sorts of questions both professional and personal.

"Sorry," he said, "If you'll excuse us please. Auror Malfoy and I have had a very difficult few days and we're long overdue for some rest," he added, chuckling amiably at them. "Thank you," he nodded. "Good night."

Without waiting for anything else, Draco reached out and grasped Harry's elbow and apparated them out of there and back to the apparition point just outside the Ministry. They had to apparate home separately, Merlin knew the press would have a field day if they knew the full truth about the nature of their relationship.

(Read more below the cut)

Members of the press were waiting by that apparation point as well, Draco watched a tremor of unease sluice up Harry's back. He was sure that he wouldn't have suspected a thing if not for how long he had been watching Harry Potter. Sometimes he wondered if he knew Harry better than Harry knew himself.

Harry held up a hand but Draco beat him to the punch this time. "Move," he snapped, pushing his way through the press but keeping Harry half a step ahead of him so they couldn't suck him in. "Auror Potter's already given an interview to your insipid colleagues. The DMLE and the Wizengamot will be issuing official statements within the hour, I suggest you wait for them."

They were followed into the lobby but fortunately the reporters couldn't come any further and within a few moments they were ensconced in the relative safety of the elevator.

Once they got inside, Harry leaned back against the back wall and let his head fall foward while Draco hit the button to their floor before joining him.

"Thanks," Harry murmured.

"Don't mention it," Draco replied, reaching across the gap between them and hooking their pinkies together.

He released his finger the floor before theirs and stepped away, "What do you still have to do?" he asked.

"You're submitting the report, right?"

Draco nodded, "It's just about done. I'll need a few minutes to finish."

"I just have to straighten up my desk, then. I'll head home first."

The elevator dinged and the door opened onto their floor, Draco gave Harry a little nod and they stepped out.

Harry was done straightening his desk and putting things away in ten minutes and he stood and stretched before patting Draco congenially on the shoulder. "Nice work, Malfoy," he said. "I'll see you in two days. Enjoy your couple of days of recovery," he added.

"Thanks, Potter," he replied. "You, too."

He didn't let himself watch Harry leave, didn't let himself look at his retreating form to analyze what he was feeling and thinking. No, he went back to finishing his report and after another fifteen minutes he was done as well. He dropped the report in Robbard's mailbox and headed for the apparition point, knowing that Harry would have used the floo network to avoid as many reporters as possible.

Fortunately, the reporters left him alone for the most part and he reached the apparation point without incident. A heartbeat later he was standing in their entry way, breathing in the comforting scent of home, the warmth seeping into his bones and washing away all of the tension and stress.

He kicked off his shoes, tucked his bag into the closet, and hung up his cloak before turning and heading into the kitchen. Harry was standing over the hob, cooking chicken tikka masala by the smell of it, and that told Draco everything his needed to know about how draining this case had been on Harry.

Harry only cooked after a case when he was especially frustrated, when he was desperate to care for someone, to fix the hurts he was able to, to heal. He ached with how much he loved the other man.

"Hey," he murmured as he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and hooked his chin over his shoulder. "Smells good."

Harry leaned into him, "Good," he replied, setting the wooden spoon down and turning his head to press a quick kiss to Draco's lips. "How are you?" he asked softly.

"Tired," Draco replied honestly.

Harry hummed and turned back to his rice, pulling down the jar of jasmine and adding some. "Me too."

"I'm going to open a bottle of wine," he said, pressing a kiss to Harry's shoulder. "White okay?"

"Sure," the other man replied, giving him a worn, weary smile.

Draco opened the wine and set the table, getting everything ready while Harry finished preparing the food.

"Dinner's ready," Harry said, bringing over the rice and chicken tikka masala, and a batch of naan that he'd had under stasis for a moment like this.

"Thanks," Draco replied and the first part of dinner was quiet, companionable, like it always was.

Then, once Harry was almost done with his first helping he started to talk. "Godric, I hate those vultures," he grumbled before taking a sip of his wine. "Can you imagine how heartless you have to be to stand outside of a court to ambush someone after the kind of case we just finished?"

"They're awful," Draco agreed.

"I always wish I could tell them to fuck off," he added, shaking his head.

"What a sight that would be," he said with a laugh. "I'd give my entire vault at Gringotts to see it. Can you imagine their faces?"

Harry laughed too, "It sure would be something." But then after a moment he said, "What's happened to me?"

"What?" Draco asked, panic spearing through his chest. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head, "No, nothing like that," he said, soothingly. "Sorry. It's just," he paused as though he was trying to put his thoughts in order. "When I was seventeen I would have told them to piss off in an instant. I would have told them that they were heartless, soulless leeches without hesitation."

"You've just learned to be more diplomatic," Draco replied, tearing off another piece of naan to soak up more of the tikka masala.

"But why?" Harry asked. "I'm sick of it. It's exhausting."

Draco nodded, "I don't doubt it. But I'm sure even you would get in trouble for telling off the press like that. You are the Ministry's Golden Boy, after all. You've got quite an image to uphold."

"Why do we do this job, Draco?" he asked suddenly.

Draco blinked, their conversations after a case usually centered around the case itself and Harry's guilt for not being fast enough, clever enough, etc. "Well, when we started, you wanted to catch bad guys, save people, the works. And I wanted to redeem myself, do some good for once, and piss off my father."

Harry swallowed down the remainder of his glass of wine, "I hate it."

"What?"

"Being an Auror," he said. "The only time I'm ever happy is when I'm with you, the only time I feel like I'm actually me is when I'm with you." He shook his head, "I don't know how I became this person. How I became someone who could put on a fake smile and be polite to people who are such arse holes."

"What are you saying?"

He blew out a breath, "I want to stop." Running his fingers through his hair he said, "I don't want to do this anymore."

"Alright," Draco said, covering Harry's hand with his own. "We'll quit tomorrow."

"We?" he asked.

He nodded, "Ninety percent of the reason that I am still an auror is to keep an eye on you."

Harry leaned in to kiss him, both of them smiling so widely that it made kissing rather difficult. "What'll we do?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged, "Let's not rush into anything."

"Alright," Harry agreed, bringing Draco's hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to his wrist. "I'm sure whatever we decide on will be good, as long as we're together."

"I love you," Draco murmured.

Harry smiled and squeezed his hand, "I love you, too."

And even though he didn't quite know what tomorrow would bring, he knew that everything would be okay.

---------

Day 110: Rough | Day 112: Intimacy

#100 Drarry Drabbles in 100 Days #established relationship #auror partners #love #drarry #drarry ficlet #drarry drabbles #fluff #my writing #secret relationship

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stufftippywrote · 3 years

Text

not an astronaut

This is based off a personal experience. Tw for fat-shaming, homophobia, and general assholery from an asshole kid.

The bell rings cheerfully as Bitty steps through the doorway. This was one of his favorite places when he was younger. The eclectic curios, every shape and size and color, packing the shelves were an endless source of fascination for young Eric Bittle, and the owners were friends of the family, so they knew Bitty well and didn't freak out when he picked up a ceramic pepper shaker or glass figurine and held it in his hands like an ancient treasure.

He walks through the store with that same sense of wonder now, 30 years later, and brushes his hand reverently over the shelves. They’re not looking for anything in particular today, but Bitty has told Jack about this place so many times, he simply couldn’t help but visit. Besides, you never know when you might find the perfect accent piece for the new home.

Chicken-shaped serving bowls, a porcelain figurine of a girl dancing, a set of silverware in a dusty wooden case. Bitty is spoiled for choice. As he browses, there’s a movement at the back of the store, and he catches a glimpse of someone hauling boxes through a door. He wonders who runs the place now. The sign still says Thompson’s Antiques, but he knows Mrs. Thompson passed and Mr. Thompson is getting on in years. Could it be that…

A prickle of fear runs through him.

The figure in the back drags the box to a nearby aisle and starts unpacking it, placing items on a low shelf. Bitty’s curiosity overflows. He moseys into that aisle and begins to speak, but the man raises his head before he can get a word out. He has to catch his breath all over again.

The man’s face goes slack. “I know you,” he blurts.

Eric puts his hands on his hips and gives a bright smile. “Davey Thompson. So you’re here after all!”

~~~

“Davey, this is Eric. Eric, this is our little boy Davey.” Mrs. Thompson’s smile is bright as she urges her son forward. “Why don’t you two go play at the playground while Mommy and her friend talk?”

The kid is tough-looking, with ruddy cheeks and a thick build. Eric reaches out his hand to lead Davey along the way. The minute they’re out of earshot, Davey snatches his hand back like he’s just touched a hot stove. Eric turns, surprised.

“You’re fat,” Davey says.

Eric blinks.

“You look dumb,” Davey adds on. And thus a quote-unquote “friendship” was born.

~~~

Davey stands up. He still has the same tinted cheeks and stocky build that Bitty remembers, but his face is sunken somehow, and he’s built up muscle where baby fat used to linger on his arms and shoulders. He’s got a tattoo on one arm – a Japanese koi fish, mid-splash.

“Nice ink,” Bitty comments.

And Davey Thompson, for possibly the first time in his life, smiles at Bitty. “Thanks.”

“The shop looks nice,” Bitty says, surveying the shelf like it’s his domain. “Hasn’t changed much since I used to come here.”

“You’re – you’re Eric Bittle, right?” Davey says, sounding almost scared of the answer. “From school?”

“From way before school,” Bitty responds. “You’re looking good.”

“Uh. Thanks. Same to you.” Davey looks uncertain, almost sheepish. There’s a moment of awkward silence. Davey tries to break it. “Um. So. What are you –”

He doesn’t seem to have the strength, or the will, to come up with the rest of the sentence. Bitty picks it up. “I’m a pastry chef,” he says. “I have a bakery and I cater, and I’ve put out three cookbooks. Can you imagine that?”

Davey looks kind of stunned. “Wow,” he says slowly. “Good for you. Where’s the bakery?”

“Up in New England. Providence, Rhode Island, to be exact.”

Davey snaps his fingers. “That’s right, you went to college up there. For hockey, wasn’t it?”

~~~

Bitty takes a swing at the ball. He misses, and it goes tumbling behind him into the net.

“Hah, you’re the worst goalie,” Davey says.

Somehow, Bitty finds the courage to say, “Let me play forward.” But his words are swallowed by the passing of a car on the cross street.

“What?”

“You be goalie.” Bitty gives the phrase all the menace he’s got in an eight-year-old body.

Davey laughs, a cruel laugh that sounds like ripping paper in Bitty’s ears. “Why? I can score on you all I want. That’s why we made you goalie.”

Resentment simmers like a low sun in Bitty’s gut. He wants to challenge Davey to play him on actual ice. He knows Davey can’t skate. As bad as he is, Bitty can’t possibly lose to him there. But the words stay stuck inside, plastered to the inside of his stomach, making him feel sick.

“Worst goalie ever,” Kevin chimes in.

“The worst, the wooooorst,” all four of them sing to him.

Bitty crouches low and is glad they can’t see much through the oversized goalie mask. Someday, he thinks, someday I’m gonna get them.

~~~

“Something like that,” Bitty answers easily. “And you’ve been here running the store?”

“Pretty much.” He doesn’t look very proud of that fact.

“I remember you used to say you were going to be an astronaut.”

“Ah, well –” The rose tint on Davey’s cheeks grows a shade deeper. “We were kids. I figure I missed my shot to make something of myself.”

All of Bitty’s nurturing instincts come alive. “Don’t say that. You’re doing well. Doing good, honest work. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Nah, man. It was just the easiest thing to do, once Mom got sick. I had to be here for her, and I … just stayed.”

Bitty gazes at him. This isn’t the attitude he expected from Davey Thompson, not in the slightest. He seems so defeated, as though Bitty’s arrival has reminded him of everything he isn’t. Bitty doesn’t want to be that for him, but he doesn’t think he has a choice in the matter. He quashes the small, self-satisfied demon that’s cackling in the back of his head. He’s not that kid anymore, either.

Just then, the chimes jingle at the front of the store. The babbling voice of a young child brightens the room. “Ah,” Bitty says, “there they are. He had to keep them outside a while before they calmed down. Little kids just work themselves up into a dither sometimes.” He offers an apologetic smile to Davey and retreats down the aisle toward the front of the store.

Suze is quiet, but it’s clear she was crying her eyes out earlier. She hangs on to her Papa with a fierce fist. Robby’s eyes are bugging out at the sight of the store. “What’s that?” he keeps asking, tugging on Jack’s slacks. Jack himself looks a little the worse for wear, but happy. That kind of tired-happy that they see in each other’s faces every night once the kids are in bed.

“Come on, Rob,” Bitty says, holding out his hands. “Want to see Daddy’s favorite store?”

Robby holds out his hands to be picked up. Bitty obliges, despite the warning creak of his back. He turns to take Robby further into the store and sees Davey standing there, staring them down.

He points. “I know you, too.”

“Ah, here we go,” Bitty says with a laugh.

“Were you in school with us? I don’t think that’s right, but—”

Jack holds out his hand for a shake. “Jack Zimmermann,” he says. “And you are?”

“My old friend Davey,” Bitty fills in. He can’t help but put a pointed emphasis on the friend part.

Davey clasps Jack’s hand but doesn’t seem to want to let go. “You’re Jack Zimmermann? The hockey player?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

Davey pumps Jack’s hand about four more times before finally letting go. “It’s – it’s good to meet you.” He looks at Suze, still curled up in Jack’s other arm. “And these are your kids? Or—” He turns to Bitty, face contorted in confusion. “Are they your kids?”

“Both,” Bitty answers cheerily. “Davey, meet my husband.”

Davey Thompson very nearly has a coronary right there.

~~~

“Hah, you’re just small all over, aren’t you?” Davey says with a pointed glance at Bitty’s crotch.

“You can’t help how you’re born,” Bitty retorts, but he pulls up his boxers right quick.

“Yeah, some people are just born stupid,” Davey agrees. Bitty instantly regrets replying at all.

Kyle whispers something in Davey’s ear. They both laugh.

“You’re right,” Davey says. He turns back to Bitty. “He’s right. They do say things about you.”

Bitty’s heart drops to his stomach. “W-what things?”

“You know! That you’re—” Davey flaps his wrist.

He doesn’t seem to have the nerve to say the word, but he doesn’t have to say it. The others in the locker room laugh.

For not the first time, Bitty is tempted to just ask, “So what if I am?” But he can’t. Not to these people. This isn’t how he wants his coming out to happen. So he just turns away and pulls on his sweatpants, ignoring the rills of laughter that echo against the lockers, and feels small. Small all over.

~~~

Davey recovers from his shock and nods his head rapidly. “Oh, I get it. Uh, congratulations. Uh, Bittle, could I talk to you a sec?”

He has that sheepish look again. Bitty watches as he retreats into one of the side aisles. “Gimme a sec,” he tells Jack, setting Robby down, and follows Davey.

When they're isolated, Davey turns to him sorrowfully. “I, uh—” Davey looks at the floor. “I was pretty mean to you in school.”

It isn’t what Bitty expected, not at all. To be honest, demons in the back of his head aside, this sort of thing doesn’t bother him so much anymore. Why should it? He’s married with two kids and a brand new home. He doesn’t spare a lot of time thinking about the distant past. “Um,” he starts, suddenly terribly embarrassed.

“No, let me—” Davey raises a hand. “Just let me. I said a lot of nasty things to you back then. I’m really sorry about it. I think about it a lot, and I’m just – I’m really sorry.”

There is a piece of Bitty that’s happy, even smug, at hearing this apology. But mostly he just pities Davey at this point. What a thing to carry around your whole life. “We were kids,” Bitty says. “Kids say dumb things. It’s all water under the bridge.”

“Still.” Davey says.

“I can’t say it didn’t hurt me,” Bitty goes on. “But I turned out okay, don’t you think?”

Davey laughs grimly “Yeah, look at you … and look at me.” He shrugs.

“You seem to be doing all right,” Bitty says charitably.

“I’m not an astronaut,” Davey says.

Bitty laughs. “Neither am I. We’re all good.” He pats Davey on the shoulder. A moment passes between them, silent, as they both listen to the sound of the past giving way to a new, kinder present.

After the moment passes, Bitty grins “Come on, I’m going to introduce you to my kids. Do you have kids?”

Davey flushes. “Yeah, I got a teenager. A real smartass. I wonder where he learned it.”

“Pictures!” Bitty declares. “Get that phone out, I demand pictures.”

Davey struggles to pull his phone out of his jeans pocket. This time, he flushes with pride. He narrates the story of each photo as they walk back toward the front.

#i hate writing endings: a novel #check please #omgcp #omgcp fic #omgcp ficlet #zimbits #but more really about bitty himself #stuff tippy wrote

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aenaxes · 3 years

Text

memories of a shooting star

[fives x f!reader] what answers can a falling star offer you when it dips into the atmosphere and calls you home?

warnings: none

w/c: 1.4k

a/n: for my sweet @murdertoothpick, “i am an aries, afab, my favourite time of the day is that time between 7-8pm (is that weirdly specific? maybe), i’m an introvert but i hc myself as an extrovert (don’t ask, or do; okay maybe i’m actually an ambivert), and i have no preference of n/sfw *lip bite*” i match you with (best boy) fives! i feel like he'd admire your energy, quiet as it may oftentimes be, and he'd have a knack for picking up on your comfort levels and knowing the right time to tug you close or nudge you further.

Sometimes, you allow yourself the luxury of letting your mind wander in the pressurized stillness between silent dogfights in space. When the brothers have gone to sleep and the generals take perch in high places in the turret towers, you sit over your flimsy army-issue blankets and summon the courage to wonder about breaking every regulation humanly possible.

What would a shotgun wedding look like in neutral space? What would it be like to tap Fives awake in the dead hours of night and hotwire an escape pod? What would it be like to look war in the face and, instead of bowing your head low and slowly breaking bone after bone under its weight, what if you simply refused?

If you squinted into the galaxy, could you see the dregs of another lost battle memorialized in light speed?

What would it be like to live?

How did it end up this way? You wanted to see the stars, those little specks in the night sky, so small you thought you might be able to scoop them into your palm if you reached out far enough. When did joining the war machine become a part of that dream?

They’re big questions.

So you start small, chasing the shadows of uncertainty with a grin as you lift a lighter to the smuggled sparkler stick pinched between Fives’s teeth.

Funny, how it was up to regulation to sleep against a plasma torpedo with enough firepower to knock a small moon out of orbit. But a thin stick of old-fashioned gunpowder and crude metals warranted something a little harder than a slap on the wrist.

But you see Fives grin around the wooden end of the sparkler he’d paid a merchant nearly triple for when he’d tugged you from the waterfront to the night market vendors. But you see him nearly drop the sparkler when he smothers down his laugh at your struggling attempts to get the stick to actually catch; you see him nearly drop it again when, finally, it begins to fizzle and pop soft yellow sparks between you. But you see familiar lights begin to dot the shoreline behind him; you hear Dogma yelp, Echo laughs, Jesse and Hardcase whoop over the fuzzy wavesound.

The stars don’t seem so far away anymore.

Fives reaches up to pluck the sparkler from his lips, offering it to you with a giddy triumph that trembles over his smile. You grin back, and you wonder if Fives sees the sparks in your eyes the same way you do his.

“That was in your mouth!” you laugh and twist your lips into your most convincing display of disgust as you shoo him away. “I thought that was going to be yours!”

“Baby, yesterday you literally asked me to spit in your—”

“Nah-ah-ah!” you cut him off. Briny air fills your open-mouthed grin, and you wonder if this is what the sparkler trail of a shooting star tastes like, warm with the retreating rays of twin suns sinking beneath the horizon, warm with Fives’s easy joy reflected over the gentle waves. “I’m not going to let you sneak an indirect kiss in while the boys are here.”

“Oh, baby girl, they know we do more than indirect kissing—” Fives starts.

“Ah-ah!” you tut, laughing as he reaches the sparkler towards your free hand.

You skirt his touch with a giddy shriek when you feel his knuckles brush over yours. It’s playground flirtation, it’s tag as Fives lopes after you, but the wind feels like you could call this little planet home when the war ends, when the Jedi step back, when you can look up and see the stars unobstructed by the shadow of a cruiser crusher overhead. For all that keeps you up at night, tonight, there is a warm breeze and Fives and the promise that if you turn your head, you will find family in the brothers lighting the shoreline with fizzling dots of light.

So you throw your head back. Your hair catches in your mouth and brushes over your nose as you backpedal over the sand. And when Fives, backlit by the late glow of the sunset, reaches for you, though you might be pretending to run from him, you reach back and close your fingers around gilded rays of light.

It had been a funny question to ask when you were younger: what does a star feel like, cradled in your palm? Would it consume you in its orbit? Would it be so hot it felt like you were freezing? Would it be nothing at all, just asteroid dust and the memories left behind?

It still feels a bit strange to ask, but now you have your answer.

The starlight is calloused and rough. It is young in light and yet ancient with memory. It is tired. It wakes up at 0400 to run bed checks and steel itself for another day in an ocean with no shore.

But it’s soft, too. It is the quiet, forgiving love of the dawn that crests over the waves without fail. It kisses your cheeks with honeyed warmth and lets you tug it back into bed for five more minutes. It opens itself to you and invites you to hold it close, starstreaks finally in your grasp and so, so warm in your palm as you lace your fingers with Fives’s and let him swing you up into his arms and close against his chest.

Fives brings his arms around your neck, wrangling you into a hug as you laugh and wriggle in his embrace. The sparkler crackles a few centimetres away from your cheek and showers you with cool embers as Fives dips his head low and nuzzles his beard against your cheek. Far behind you, Rex’s laughter crests with Tup’s and dips into wavesound.

By the time your laughter dies down, you realize you’ve chased each other to wobble ankle-deep in the warm ocean waters. Seafoam laps at the edges of the rolled hems of your pants, and it just feels right to wiggle your arms around Fives’s waist.

Your star skims the atmosphere and grazes close over the water’s edge, wrapping its iridescent tail around your shoulders and offering you a half-spent sparkler stick. And when you still your heart to look your shooting star in the eye, you find deep brown eyes and a boyish grin mellowing, softening with the steady burn of the sparkler’s waning lights.

Without thinking, you rise up to your toes. Sand slips over your feet, and the wind cools over your skin as you squeeze your hands over the small of Fives’s back and press your lips against his. You distantly register Jesse shooting a low whistle your way, followed by more laughter. But the warmth that spreads from the base of your ribs to the top of your head in the glow of the sparkler beside you is far from embarrassment.

“I thought you said no kissing?” Fives teases with a wry smile after you pull away and settle your heels back into the sand.

You shake your head, and you aren’t sure if you’re grinning because of the warmth in your chest or if the swell between your ribs makes it impossible to hide from his light. You squeeze your arms at his side and crane your head to peck over his beard.

“No indirect kissing,” you correct.

Fives rolls his eyes, but his teasing facade breaks with a yelp as the sparkler flame grazes over his thumb. The stick drops into the shallow waters and rocks in place where the waves lap around your ankles. Dogma yells something about littering before he dissolves into laughter with his brothers.

Reaching around into his pocket, you pull a fresh stick from its little bundle and tap it against Fives’s nose. His expression scrunches, but it doesn’t hold. Fives acquiesces with a soft huff and completes your exchange by tugging the lighter from the loose curl of your fist.

The stars are still in the sky tonight. But maybe one has pitched its orbit planetside and grazed closer than before. Maybe you make peace with the questions and the rules and everything you may never know. Maybe you reach a little further this time.

You close your hand over Fives’s as he lifts the lighter to your sparkler. Golden light spills between your chests. And when you hold a star in your palm, it glows.

#im laughing ur description was so cute anna #don't u kevin nguyen lipbite me miss #fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #clone trooper x reader #the clone wars x reader #yaej.writes

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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

Text

I Carry Your Heart With Me (Part One)

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Summary: Spencer and the reader are reunited for the first time in fifteen years.

A/N: Very excited to get the ball rolling on this one. I hope you all enjoy it! Message me if you would like to be added to the taglist.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 4.5k

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Damien mutters from the passenger seat, his icy blue eyes wide with fright. He pulls his gaze away just long enough to point at a lone cow grazing to the left of the road. “Look! That cow is just like… standing there. No fence around him or anything. What’s stopping him from stampeding into us the second we get out of this car?”

Damien sounds so genuinely horrified that you almost feel bad for laughing. Almost.

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Dee. Besides, that cow didn’t even look up when we drove past. We’re not even on its radar.”

“Oh, yeah? Ever heard of a little thing called mad cow disease?” Damien persists, in typical dramatic flair. You roll your eyes at him and he curses underneath his breath. “You know, when I agreed to go with you to this wedding, I pictured something more akin to a five-star resort with a minibar and a heated pool. Not rogue livestock and shitty cellphone reception.”

“You didn’t agree to anything – you practically begged me to take you with me.”

Damien waves his hand, dismissive, his eyes still roaming over the pasture. “Because I wanted an excuse to take a week off work. This is not the controlled environment I expected.”

“If you don’t quit complaining, I won’t hesitate to push you out of the car and leave you here with the cow,” you retort. In your periphery you’re able to make out Damien raising his middle finger to you. Rude.

You chuckle and fix your attention back on the dirt road. You’re driving almost painfully slowly, because the very idea of having to pay extra for damages to this already astronomically expensive rental car makes you feel nauseated. Despite your efforts, the car is covered entirely in dust. Its once pristine, white paint job has transformed into a muddy color.

There goes my deposit.

You shake your head at the thought. You had more pressing matters to concern yourself with; i.e., the fact that you were approximately five minutes away from coming face to face with the one person you swore you’d never speak to again. Two months seemed like ample time to prepare yourself in theory, but now that it is no longer some far-off thing, you know that your attempts at preparing yourself were in vain. With each day you crossed off the calendar leading to your departure date, your anxiety grew and grew until you worried your poor heart would give out under the stress. Getting onto the plane bound for Montana felt like the proverbial nail in the coffin, and a hefty dose of Dramamine was the only thing that kept you from spiraling as the plane ascended into the air. You slept through the entirety of the trip and, much to Damien’s chagrin, there is a sizeable puddle of drool on his left shoulder to prove it.

The lengthy nap helped. The tight band constricting your chest had loosened, and you pulled out onto the highway feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. You had Damien by your side and five vacation days to enjoy. Your best friend was getting married to the love of her life, and you were hellbent on standing by her side through it all. Spencer Reid can kiss your ass, as far as you are concerned. No way is he going to ruin this for you.

You are still very much clinging your take-no-shit mentality when you breach a hill and the ranch comes into view, effectively expelling every single positive thought from your head. Aforementioned anxiety reappears in full-force and you stomp down on the breaks.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can do this,” you squeak out, casting a look at Damien, whose eyes are trained on the sprawling expanse of the house ahead of you. “We can still turn around – no, we should turn around. There is no version of this that won’t end in me getting embarrassingly drunk and crying in front of everyone. I’m turning around.”

Damien’s hand on yours, strong and steady, is the only thing that keeps you from whipping the car around and retreating with your tail between your legs. His fingers pry your white knuckled grip off of the wheel slowly, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles across your skin. Its sweet and so overwhelmingly gentle that you’re a bit stunned. You glance at him in a silent question, as if to ask who are you, and what have you done with my friend?

He gets the message loud and clear, because of course he does. Damien fixes you with a smile, grip tightening on your hand.

“I’ve seen you hold your own against some of the biggest names in journalism on an almost daily basis – looking damn sexy while you do it, might I add,” Damien chuckles, and you can’t help but give a weak laugh of your own. Damien’s smile grows at this, and he continues, “If you can handle your business against those conniving pricks, I’ve no doubt that you can tough it out for this. You’re not the type of woman that lets some guy dictate what she does or doesn’t do. And you sure as hell aren’t the type of woman that would let some guy rob her of the opportunity to stand by her best friend on the most important day of her life. As the person who probably knows you better than anyone else on the planet, my opinion of you is pretty rock-solid, if I do say so myself. So, unless I’ve completely overestimated the extent of your badassery, I suggest you rethink that plan. What do you say?”

You avert your eyes and swallow against the lump in your throat.

“Spencer’s not just some guy. For a long time, I was convinced that he was the guy,” you whisper. The car is silent, save for the quiet crooning voice of George Michael flowing through the speakers. Damien squeezes your hand, prompting you to continue. You blink up at him with wet lashes, lips pulled into a sad smile. “Have you ever been in love?”

Damien shakes his head and rubs his thumb along the top of your hand. “I can’t say that I have, babe. Haven’t been that lucky.”

You let out a shaky breath and bring your other hand up to wipe at your eyes.

“Maybe you’re better off. I’ve only been in love once,” you gesture to your pitiful appearance and choke out a wet laugh. “Look where that got me. He fucking crushed me, and fifteen years later I’m still broken up about it. It’s pathetic.”

Damien frowns and shifts in his seat so that he’s fully facing you.

“I don’t want to hear you say that self-deprecating shit again. You were hurt by someone you gave your heart to, and I can only imagine how devastating that must feel. Being upset about seeing him again does not make you pathetic. The fact that you’re here, about to spend a week with the guy just so you can be there for Cassidy, is pretty damn admirable as far as I’m concerned.” Damien ends his monologue by pulling you into a tight hug, and you couldn’t be more thankful that he’d come with you. Not only was he a secret sweetheart, he also gave the very best hugs.

By the time he releases you, the tension in your chest has eased significantly. You nod once, and Damien’s rewards you with a smile.

“I am pretty cool, aren’t I?”

Damien snorts rather unattractively and rolls his eyes.

“I take back everything. You suck, and I don’t know why I bother with you, you narcissist.”

Now that the mood has lifted significantly, you reluctantly press your foot against the gas pedal.

“Too late. No takesies backsies,” you singsong. “You think I’m sexy and badass, and I’m never going to let you forget it.”

Damien mutters something undoubtably snarky underneath his breath, but it’s drowned out by the sound of gravel crunching underneath the tires. That, and the sound of your blood roaring in your ears as you inch further down the driveway.

The house, a beautiful log cabin with stone accents along the underside, is massive. Standing at two stories tall with a large wraparound porch and more than a dozen large windows, it’s a far cry from the modest little cabin in the mountains that Cassidy had made it out to be. Even Damien is slack jawed at the sight of it, sitting pretty against a back drop of rolling mountains, and you can’t help but feel a little smug.

“Still want to complain about that five-star resort?”

Damien shakes his head dazedly, “I retract my earlier complaint.”

All too soon, you roll to a stop and put the car in park. Several other cars are parked haphazardly in the grass around you, and that annoying voice inside your head wonders which one belongs to Spencer. It’s not that you care – you totally don’t – it’s just that you are kind of hoping that he hasn’t arrived yet. A few hours to acclimate to the environment before having to deal with him would be nice.

“You’ve got this, babe,” Damien murmurs. “And I’ll be with you the whole time, just in case you need a reminder.”

You flash Damien a nervous smile.

“You’re a really good friend, Dee. I’m really glad that you’re here,” you say, before narrowing your eyes at him. “If you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”

Damien snorts and pushes open the door.

“Get your sassy ass out of the car. I’m ready to mingle.”

As soon as you set foot on the porch, the front door flies open and a flash of curly red hair precedes a collision that nearly sends you flying back into the railing. Ecstatic squeals rip through the otherwise serene evening air and two boney arms envelop you into a tight hug.

“I cannot believe you’re actually here,” Cassidy laughs as she squeezes you tight. Her enthusiasm has you joining in, the two of you laughing happily and pulling back to examine one another. Cassidy places a sloppy kiss to both of your cheeks before throwing an arm over your shoulder. “I fully expected you to just blow off the whole thing, if I’m being honest.”

You cast at Damien, who’s watching on with an amused grin on his face.

“Believe me, she tried.”

Cassidy turns her attention to Damien and extends her free hand.

“I take it you’re the infamous Damien that I’ve been trading emails with?”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, “Wait, what? The two of you have been emailing?”

Damien accepts Cassidy’s hand and gives it a firm shake, all while smiling smugly.

“Yep. Me and Ms. Cassidy go way back.”

“I mean, that’s cool, I guess, but why?”

Cassidy and Damien share a look, both of them shrugging.

“Mainly to talk about you,” Cassidy admits, not even bothering to look apologetic. When you frown up at her she waves her hand dismissively at you. “All good things, I promise. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Cassidy punctuates her words with a patronizing pat on your shoulder.

“I knew letting you two meet was a bad idea,” you grumble.

Cassidy simply drops her arms from its place on your shoulder in favor of tugging on your hand.

“Come on, sour puss. I want you to meet my husband. He’s a real sweetie – you’re gonna love him.”

A flash of white-hot panic shoots down your spine and you dig your heels into the floor.

“Wait,” you squeak out, eyes wide. “Is… Is he here yet?”

Cassidy’s eyes shine mischievously, briefly flitting up to Damien before returning to you.

“He is. And you’ll be happy to know that pictures do not do the Good Doctor any justice.”

Salt, meet wound.

“Don’t know why you’re telling me that,” you mutter.

“Denial is not just a river in Egypt, my friend,” Cassidy singsongs as she begins tugging you forward. For someone so tiny, she makes easy work of forcing you through the threshold.

The foyer is just as impressive as you expect it to be – beautiful cedar walls and a grand staircase that leads to the second floor. If you weren’t horribly on edge at the current moment, you would definitely comment on the fact that the foyer alone is probably larger than your entire apartment, but you’re too busy scanning the immediate area for tall skinny white guys with stupidly curly brown hair to comment on the grandiosity.

Cassidy leads the two of you to double doors to the right, and just as she’s about to push them open, the shrill ring of your cellphone offers you an out.

You slip your hand from Cassidy’s grip and give her a faux apologetic look.

“I should probably take this – it might be work.”

Damien narrows his eyes at you. “I thought you left your work phone at home.”

You ignore him and begin taking a few steps backwards, “Is there somewhere private I can go?”

An indiscernible look flashes across Cassidy’s face and then her lips pull up into a sugary sweet smile. “Follow the hallway to the very end. Leads to the back porch,” she says. “No need to rush. Take all the time you need!”

Okay, weird, you think to yourself, but the idea of putting off the inevitable for a few extra moments is too tempting to pass up, so you continue your retreat. You make it to the back door in record time and let out a relieved breath as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hi, mom.”

“Hi, baby. I was just calling to make sure the two of you got there safely.”

You push open the back door and the breathtaking view of the ranch prompts you to take pause; sprawling fields and rolling hills as far as the eye can see, grazing livestock congregating near a lazy stream at the far end of the property, and several horses running across the expanse of the left field. It was wonderfully serene and vastly different from the bustling rat-race that was New York.

You smile to yourself when a loud moo rips through the otherwise quiet ranch. I could get used to this.

“Yeah, we made it,” you murmur into the receiver. “You would love this place, Mom. It’s probably the prettiest place I’ve ever been. I’ll send you a picture when I hang up.”

“How’s Cassidy? Still a little spit-fire, I assume?”

You lean against the railing and let out a snort, “Oh, absolutely. Don’t think that’ll ever change.”

“I’d hope not,” your mother hums. “How does Damien like the ranch?”

“He’s not exactly a fan of the livestock,” you chuckle. “Damien’s never even seen a real cow before. City boy through and through, that one.”

You and your mother share a laugh that dissolves into a comfortable silence. Comfortable, until the telltale clearing of your mother’s throat warns you of the impending inquisition.

“So,” your mother begins. “Are you going to tell me how it went, or are you going to leave an old woman wondering? “

You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “Fortunately, I have yet to run into him. I may or may not be hiding out on the back porch as we speak in an attempt to avoid just that.”

“Y/N,” your mother chastises. “Prolonging the inevitable isn’t going to make this any easier.”

“I know, I know. I’ll go in there soon. It’s just a lot, you know? I needed to take a breather, first.” Just until my hands stop shaking. Or until Cassidy comes hunting for me. Whichever comes first.

“I know, baby,” your mother coos. “I’m proud of you for trying. Just don’t drag things out, okay? You’ll only make yourself sick with nerves.” Unfortunately, that ship has sailed. The rolling in your stomach can attest to that.

You laugh a humorless laugh, “I don’t know, Mom. You always like to remind me how stubborn I am. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can just avoid him for the entire week.”

A tiny movement at the very corner of your vision and a loud creak makes you whip your head around, and what you see has your heart falling to your ass.

Spencer Reid, looking absolutely stunning in a pair of khaki dress pants and a white cable-knit sweater, sits in a porch swing with wide eyes and a book clutched tightly in his hands. Soft, caramel-colored curls frame his face and a five o’clock shadow runs the length of his jaw, adding a bit of grown-up flare to his otherwise boyish features.

He looks every bit as beautiful as he did on the day he broke your heart.

Spencer knows that he should have spoken up as soon as you walked onto the porch. It was immediately obvious that you hadn’t seen him, and he swears he’s one second away from clearing his throat and launching into the introduction he’d been planning for the last sixty days. But the words die on his tongue as he drinks in the sight of you.

You’re so close to him for the first time in years and it’s more than a little bit dizzying. And yeah, he’s used his very limited knowledge of how the internet works to Google you on more than one occasion, but the version of you leaning against the porch railing is a far cry from the pixelized one. A light breeze rolling through the air lifts your hair away from your face, and Spencer’s breath catches in his throat as he surveys every perfect inch, from the curl of your lashes to the smattering of freckles on your nose. He indulges himself, eyes settling on your cherry red lips, fascinated by the way they move as you talk on the phone. Spencer is intimately familiar with those lips – can recall the way they felt pressed against his own. The years spent apart have done nothing to dull the memories. He’s not entirely sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.

It amazes him how you’ve somehow managed to change a lot, but also not at all. You stand before him as an oxymoron personified, and it’s a lot for Spencer’s poor heart to take in. Your hair is a bit lighter than he remembers, as well as a little longer, but it still looks just as soft and he can recall with startling clarity how it felt when he used to run his fingers through it. You have a few more laugh lines than you did, as well as a scar on your left elbow that hadn’t been there before, but everything else about you is so painfully familiar that Spencer could almost pretend that no time had passed – that he still knows your body as well as he once did.

Spencer knows this isn’t true. Every seven years, the body resets; old cells destroyed and replaced with new ones. You’ve both spent enough time apart that your bodies have reset twice over. You’re as much of a stranger to him as he is to you.

Spencer positively abhors the thought.

The sound of your laughter pulls him from the depths of his mind, and while the laugh isn’t warm or inviting in the slightest, he relishes it. What was once one of his favorite sounds has existed in his head as only a memory for far too long. Hearing it in person is jarring in the best of ways.

The euphoria he feels dies a horrible death when you speak again.

“I don’t know, Mom. You always like to remind me how stubborn I am. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can just avoid him for the entire week.”

Fucking ouch.

Spencer cringes hard, too hard, because the porch swing screeches out an angry creak and you whip around and holy shit, have your eyes always been that entrancing?

He watches as your entire body goes rigid, tensed as if you’re about to bolt. You blink hard, eyebrows drawn together to form an adorably bewildered expression as you assess him. Spencer hopes he doesn’t look too disheveled. He hadn’t even thought to freshen up after his trip, an oversight that he’s regretting terribly as your eyes flit over him.

Spencer isn’t sure why, but he stands up. Maybe it has something to do with feeling vulnerable. Maybe he just wants to close the distance. The two steps he takes towards you support the latter. He’s thankful that you don’t move away, but the blank expression on your face worries him.

The two of you stand five feet apart, but you feel worlds away. Spencer refrains from speaking for as long as he can stand, which is only about thirty seconds.

“Hi.”

Your lips part, and Spencer holds his breath.

“Hi.”

More silence. Spencer gulps.

“It’s good to see you,” he says, cautious. The last thing he wants to do is fuck up within the first five minutes. Unfortunately, his brain and his mouth seem to have some sort of disconnect, and Spencer continues against his better judgment. “It’s been a while.”

It’s been a while? That’s seriously the best I can come up with?

Spencer contemplates drowning himself in the nearby stream.

“It certainly has.”

“Five-thousand, five-hundred and seventeen days.” And roughly thirty-six and a half hours, but who’s counting?

Muted noises flow out of your phone speaker and you pull your eyes away from Spencer. He’s both relieved and devastated.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. I just ran into someone. I’ll call you back later, okay?”

Spencer agonizes over the fact that he’s been reduced to someone while you and your mother exchange goodbyes. You’re smiling when you look up at him again, but Spencer’s seen what a genuine smile of yours looks like, and this isn’t it.

“I didn’t see you sitting there. My apologies.” Your formality makes the situation all the more excruciating.

Spencer lets out a nervous laugh, “I suppose avoiding me is out of the question now, huh?”

It’s hard to tell who’s more horrified by the words that tumble from his mouth, you or Spencer. A fierce flush spreads across your cheeks. It’s the first crack in your otherwise calm and collected exterior thus far and Spencer relishes in it. Maybe you’re not as unaffected by him as you seem.

“I… I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you stammer, blinking up at him with guilty eyes. “That wasn’t very kind of me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t say that I’m undeserving of your anger,” Spencer whispers so quietly that he worries you don’t hear him over the gentle flow of the stream. The hardness that returns to your eyes lets him know that you heard every word.

You clear your throat, signaling your unwillingness to discuss that particularly painful topic. “You’re still partial to Cummings, I see.” You gesture to the book clutched tightly against his chest.

Now, it’s Spencer’s turn to blush. The book in his hands, tattered and worn from years of use, is incriminating. The two of you both know what lies just beneath the binding. The fact that Spencer has it with him now makes him think that he might as well be wearing a t-shirt that reads, I’M STILL NOT OVER YOU.

Spencer raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. Old habits die hard, I guess.” His eyes scour your face for a sign of anything that might clue him in to you feeling the same way. A flicker of something dances across your face, but it’s gone so quickly that he can’t be sure if he imagined it. He forces a nervous smile. “If I remember correctly, he was your favorite.” It’s a shitty attempt at a joke.

You exhale a shaky breath and to his absolute horror, your lower lip begins to wobble. He wishes he could reach up and pluck his words from where they hang heavy in the air.

“Not anymore,” you murmur, and fuck if that doesn’t absolutely wreck him.

Spencer shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help himself. “Oh. Why not?”

He holds his breath, anxiously anticipating your next words. You seem to be battling with yourself, mouth opening and closing several times. Spencer is content to wait as long as it takes for you to answer, but the universe is much more impatient than he.

The door leading onto the porch swings open and out walks an honest to God Abercrombie and Fitch model. Or at least, a man who meets the qualifications and then some. Long, flowing blonde hair and a crisp white dress shirt makes Spencer’s unruly brown mop and dumpy sweater look pitiful in comparison. Spencer frowns.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been out here for like ten minutes,” the man chastises as he closes the distance between you and him. Spencer watches him wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you to him like someone might watch a car wreck happen; with equal parts horror and morbid curiosity. “You can’t hide out forever.”

All traces of rigidity leave your body and you melt into the man’s side. It happens in such a way that screams familiarity, as if the pet name hadn’t already driven that point home. The awful, gut-wrenching realization slams home and Spencer has to fight to keep his knees from buckling.

“Uh, sorry,” you mumble, before nodding your head in Spencer’s direction. “Damien, this is Spencer Reid.”

The man’s – Damien’s - eyes go almost comically wide as they settle on Spencer’s dejected frame, before schooling into a cool indifference. He offers him a polite smile that’s a little tight around the edges, but doesn’t outstretch his hand.

“Ah, Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Spencer swallows hard to keep himself from barking out a crazed laugh. He’s heard of me! That’s certainly something, considering the fact that no one thought it necessary to tell Spencer that you have a –

Spencer’s eyes dart down to your left hand. Thankfully, mercifully, your ring finger is bare.

“Uh, y-yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” The words burn as they roll off his tongue.

Damien nods at him before turning back to you. There’s an unmistakable fondness in the way he looks at you as he speaks. “Cassidy wants everyone back inside. They’re about to serve dinner.”

You smile up at him, not even casting a parting glance at Spencer before Damien leads you back inside. Spencer stands there long after the door closes behind the two of you.

The book feels heavy in his hands.

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #fanfiction #icyhwm #my writing #spencer #reid

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hihellogoodbyebruh · 3 years

Text

Stingy

Pairing: Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes x Black!OC

Summary: EZ has a problem sharing and his girl, Monique is quite over it.

Warning(s): Some angst with a fluff ending

Word count: 2,552

AN: Ahhhh my first EZ fic. Based on a request I received from the lovely @ly--canthrope with an assist coming from Ginuwine’s Stingy. Thank YOU so much for your patience and encouraging words. I hope you enjoy this xo

You can say I'm tripping but I'm stingy And I can't hide it Wanna keep you all to me I'm selfish, why try to fight it?

An abandoned episode of Girlfriends played on the tv in the background as a woman sat straddling EZ’s lap as the two made out. His hands were rubbing up and down her sides under her shirt and her hands were gripping his face. One of her favorite things to do was kiss her boyfriend. She loved that they could just get lost in each other and it was the perfect opener for the mindblowing sex that was coming.

The familiar ringtone and buzz from her phone’s vibration echoed against the coffee table as she received a text message. She pulled away from the kiss and turned her head, trying to see if she could read the message from her position. She felt EZ stiffen, his hands moving down her hips to grip her thigh.

“I swear to God, Monique.” EZ began, feeling himself become annoyed. He can’t even enjoy her company at home without being interrupted. He’s tried so hard to be understanding, but that selfish part of him was fed up. The opening of Galindo’s company really put into perspective how often he misses time with her.

As Miguel’s assistant she had a very big hand in putting the opening celebration together. She’d been Miguel’s assistant for a couple years now. Her mother was a close confidante to Dita before she passed away. Dita wanted to keep an eye on her so she asked Miguel to give her a job. She was fantastic at keeping things organized and she already knew about the other side of business.

Working for Miguel was great because though some would hate being an assistant, he actually gave her a lot of responsibility. She was often put in charge of events while making sure everything in his life runs smoothly, at least on the legal side of things.She was so proud of her work tonight but she hardly had time to celebrate until she saw her man walking through the door.

She’d been with EZ, Ezekiel as she liked to call him because she loved his full name, for a little over a year. It was the best relationship she’d ever been in. He was kind, honest, caring, and oh so very fine.

She ended her current conversation before strutting over to Ezekiel, her arms immediately going around his neck. “Hi baby. I’m so happy you’re here.” She kissed his lips.

EZ loved seeing his girl in her element. She was very much out of his league in his mind and he felt lucky every day he woke up to her. “Hey beautiful.” He greeted her, hands resting on her lower back and pulling her close to him. “I see all your hard work has paid off.”

“It really has. Things couldn’t be going better. Especially now that you’re here.” She grinned at him.

“Oh yeah? You’re happy to see me?” He teased, smiling back so she kissed him again.

The two of them engaged in some conversation and heavy flirting before they were interrupted by her boss.

“Monique, I need you for a second…�� Miguel announced, no time for pleasantries. He was always about his business. She could respect it but it was also annoying because he could have greeted Ezekiel

“Oh hi Miguel. We weren’t having a conversation or anything.” She sarcastically replied, giving her boss a look.

“Reyes..” Miguel acknowledged her boyfriend with a barely noticeable head nod before bringing his attention back to her. “You’ve put in the most face time with the Castillos and the lovely matriarch has requested your presence. We don’t want to keep them waiting, verdant?”

EZ rolled his eyes at Miguel but didn’t say anything. He was used to Miguel’s shit and honestly he didn’t like him either so the less they communicated the better.

The Castillos were a very important family that have entered into an arrangement with Galindo enterprises both on the legitimate and illegitimate side of business. It was already fragile so she wanted to keep everything on the up and up.

She retreated from EZ’s arms without a second thought. “Is everything alright? When we went over the final documents she didn’t bring anything up.” She began walking alongside Miguel but stopped in her tracks.

“I’ll be right back.” She walked back over to EZ and planted a distracted kiss on his cheek.

He mustered up a slight smile and then she was gone.

She didn’t come back until the end of the night.

She sighed, pushing her way out of his lap and snatching up her phone once she stood up. “He’s my boss, Ezekiel. You have got to let this thing with Miguel go. Enough is enough.”

“He just does this to piss me off.” And it worked. He wanted to have her all to himself, but he couldn’t do that with Galindo constantly texting her and having her work long hours. At this point it felt she was the one singlehandedly keeping his businesses afloat.

“So stop letting it piss you off.” She replied, like it was the easiest thing and to her it was.

He shot up from his seat and exasperatedly asked, “Why do you always defend him?”

“Because you’re being ridiculous. You knew who I worked for when we started dating.” She was annoyed they were even having this argument. Her attention was focused on her phone as she replied to Miguel with the information he needed.

EZ grew even more irritated that even in an argument he couldn’t have her whole attention. “What could he possibly need from you at 2 in the morning? Hm?” He snatched the phone from her hand.

“Are you out of your mind? Give me my phone back!” She gasped, shocked at his audacity. She and Ezekiel had been together for awhile now and he’s never acted this way. He’s never lost his temper with her. “Things happen. Emergencies. I never say anything when you have an emergency with the MC.”

“Bishop doesn’t text all hours of the night. Bishop doesn’t hate you and try to disrespect our relationship at every turn. And quite frankly, Bishop isn’t a woman so it’s not the same at all.” Ez snapped, his voice getting louder.

“And just what the fuck are you implying, EZ?” There was a clear warning in her tone of voice as she matched his volume. Now they both were yelling at each other. She never called him EZ either. Always preferring to call him Ezekiel.

He knew he should have backed down and cooled off but he was beyond tired of this shit. The angry words slipped outta his mouth before he could stop them. “I’m just wondering what all the late nights are really about. If I’m dating Miguel’s side piece just tell me!”

That was a mistake. Yelling was a mistake. Saying those words was a mistake. He knew it the moment he saw tears form in her eyes.

“Excuse me?” She whispered, voice slightly cracking. How dare he call her a cheater! He officially has lost his mind.

Ezekiel felt his heart drop into his stomach when he heard the hurt in her voice. It went too far. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, mariposa.” He started to walk closer to her, but she stepped back from him.

“This has nothing to do with me. Or us. This is you and Miguel continuing to have a dick measuring contest. Th-this all goes back to Emily.” The name rolled off her tongue with mild resentment. The two never had a bad run in with each other, but all the stories about Emily and EZ’s past relationship and how she was the love of his life always made Monique get defensive.

“That’s not true.” EZ refuted, but she interrupted him before he could further explain.

“Yes it is! And if somehow it’s not then we got some serious problems baby.” She just shook her head at him before demanding, “Get out.”

You're the only one, you're the only love That's strong enough to claim me So please forgive me I'm just stingy But how can you blame me?

It’s been two weeks since the fight with Ezekiel and Monique was really missing him. She was mad that he would be such a dumbass, but she still just wanted to be laying back on the couch with him watching tv.

Miguel watched as she pushed her salad around her plate, clearly not hungry. “Todo bien hermanita?” He asked, watching as she finally brought her eyes up to meet his. This was the quietest lunch the two ever had. Usually she was talking a mile a minute.

She smiled a little at the nickname. He only called her that when he was concerned or when he really wanted something. Truth is, the two had a sibling kind of relationship. She just wished EZ had seen and understood it. “I’m fine. Not really hungry.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, taking a sip of his drink. “Nestor and I had a meeting with the Mayans yesterday. Saw your novio and he looked like shit.” Miguel casually mentions and she tries to act nonchalant even as her heart races at the mention of a certain biker. “Imagine my surprise when he asked to pull me aside for a chat.”

“What!” She gasped loudly, jaw dropping.

“I’m sure you could guess what we spoke about.”

“Miguel…” She was ready to apologize to him for whatever accusations were thrown his way.

“I know I’m very demanding. It’s part of who I am. I demand a lot from myself and from those around me, especially those closest to me. That includes you, hermanita. But I don’t want to be the reason for your unhappiness. Even if it is with Reyes..” There was only mild disgust in his tone and she took that as an improvement.

“It’s not your fault he doesn’t trust me, hermano.” She sighed.

“He is crazy about you, you know that right?”

Monique went to answer, but Miguel stood up from his seat. He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the chair and walked over to her, pushing down gently on her shoulders to keep her from getting up. He leans down and whispers “If in the end, you don’t want him and he won’t take the hint you let me know. He can visit my pew.”

She jerked her head back to give him a stern look, hating when he brought up that damn pew. He just kissed her head and walked away. She sat there dumbfounded for a second. “Wait, what-” She turned her head to call out to Miguel but her voice caught in her throat as she spotted Ezekiel right behind her. He walked over and took the seat Miguel was just in.

It was silent before she decided to break it. “You and Miguel working together? Hell must have frozen over.”

He cracks a grin at that. “Ha. Guess you could say we’ve called a truce. At least when it comes to a certain beautiful woman.”

“Calling a truce with my ‘side piece’? I’m sure Emily appreciates it.” She sarcastically replied, making him sigh in reply.

“I never should have said that. I was pissed off and being a sarcastic asshole. This never had anything to do with Emily. Yes we have history, but I don’t think about that anymore. I haven’t for a long time.” Monique looked down, wanting to believe him but having a hard time doing it. “I think about you. I think about you when we’re apart, I think about when I’ll see you again, I think about our future when you’re in my arms. You’re never not on my mind.”

His words make her want to smile, but she wasn’t done. “Then what’s been going on with us lately? Anytime I answer a call or text from Miguel you’re huffing and puffing. You sit there literally pouting like a 3 year old every time I have to do something for work. What’s the problem?”

“First, I don’t pout.” She started to disagree but he loudly continued, earning a playful glare from her. “SECONDLY, I know you’re an independent woman out here making it on your own and shit. I know it’s just been you and your job for a long time. But now you got me, mariposa. I’m here by your side and I like spending time with you. I like the quiet moments at home and our nights out. I want more of them. You work so much and you forget about everything else. Me included.”

“What do you mean I forget you? I don’t forget you.”

“Galindo Enterprises.”

“What are...Oh-” Her face completely dropped as she remembered the night. She got pulled away by Miguel and never went back to Ezekiel. She didn’t mean to, but she ended up checking on other things with the party and even though it hurts to admit she did forget about him. “Oh baby…” She held one of his hands that was on the table between both of hers.

“I’ve never been the one to cling and I don’t like to be needy but you’ve changed me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I love being in your presence. Maybe I am kind of a baby, but I think wanting your attention is a good sign for a relationship. I’m not asking you to quit your job, but some boundaries would be nice. ”

She felt so bad. He was absolutely right. She had been alone for a long time. She wasn’t used to sharing her life with someone else. An adjustment was obviously needed. “I never meant to make you feel like I wanted anyone or anything more than you. Or that I cared about those things more. I promise that I will work on communicating more with you and not just doing what I want with no consideration for you.”

He nodded his head, but she had to add one more thing. “You do need to know that sometimes just like you can’t help getting called away the same goes for me. But I’ll talk with Miguel and we’ll work out something that works for us all. I can’t believe I didn’t realize. I’m so-”

Ezekiel cut her off before she could begin criticizing herself. “So amazing, captivating, elevating,” after every word, EZ placed a kiss on the palm of her hand. “Anyway you put it I’m happy to be your man.”

“I’m still salty at you insinuating I was sleeping with Miguel.” She declared, causing him to nod with a sad look on his face.

“How can I make it up to you, mariposa?”

“Hmm…” She pretended to think when she already knew what she wanted. She leaned forward and beckoned him closer with a wiggle of her finger. She whispered in his ear, “I wanna ride you with only your kutte on until you lose your mind.” She lightly bit his ear lobe.

She busted out laughing at how fast he scrambled out of his seat and took her hand, pulling her behind him as he hustled out of the restaurant.

#ez reyes #black!reader #black!oc #ezekiel reyes #hhgbyebruh fics #ez reyes x black!reader #stingy

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axwalker · 3 years

Text

Bad Timing: Kismet

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC)

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is escaping a terrible past. After months of running she settles in Cordonia where she meets Drake at the bar where she works and they spend a passionate night together.

What happens when a one-night-stand turns into unexpected parenthood?

This chapter

MASTERLIST

WORDS: 3,890 🙊

POV: Dual

TRIGGER WARNINGS: None for this chapter. In the future, mentions of domestic violence, and explicit sex scenes.

ALL MY FICS ARE +18

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors.

I switch between Drake’s and Alexis’ POV several time in this chapter. I hope it’ll be clear enough!

PRESENT TIME Alexis

After a one-hour bus ride and a 20-minutes walk, I finally find the correct address. When I reach the massive iron gates, I punch in the code Mr. Beaumont’s assistant gave me on the phone and gape as the extensive estate comes into view when I walk through. Acres and acres of super green grass littered with pines surround the massive house in the distance. The closer I get, the more I feel like a foreigner. This might have been my world once, but my new reality couldn’t be further apart from all this luxury. I have fifty dollars left in my wallet, an eviction notice back in my 200 square foot studio, and to top it all, the worst freaking headache I’ve had in my life. Talk about a bad streak. Ironically, I’m happier than I’ve been in years. My life belongs to me; I don’t have to live in constant fear and –most importantly, I’m free. Unattached. I want to do a lot of things with my life, and no one will stop me. That’s worth the worst headache in the world or a few money problems.

I ring the bell, and a gorgeous woman opens the door. Her deep blue eyes scowl at me when I smile at her.

“Who are you looking for?” She doesn’t ask as much as she barks the question.

“Eh,” I haven’t been called shy a single day of my life, but her attitude it’s messing with the positive vibes I had coming up here. “I’m looking for Mr. Bertrand Beaumont from Beaumont Caterings.”

“This door is for house guests only. The help,” she says the word as if it tastes bad in her mouth, “must go around the house and ring the bell back there.” She’s about to close the door right in my face when two hot guys come to the door. Seriously, what do people eat in this country?

“Penelope, what are you doing answering the door like a simple maid? Where is Jessa?”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “She had to leave early. She said she asked you for the afternoon off.”

The older man nods as, the younger one grins at me. “We can discuss Jessa’s schedule later, Bertie. Please, come in, Ms.?” He asks me, still smiling.

“Ortiz. Alexis Ortiz.” I grin back, instantly liking the man with the kind blue eyes. “I’m here for the catering job.”

“I’m Maxwell Beaumont. This is my brother Bertrand—the owner and Penelope Brim, one of our party planners.”

I follow them to a huge office and give Bertrand the resumé I printed at the internet place next to my building.

“Is this all true?” He asks after a quick read.

I nod my head.

“Are you sure, Ms. Ortiz? It says here that you were working as a bartender, a barista, and a waitress in a very exclusive French restaurant, all at the same time.”

Penelope gives me a dismissive glare. “She’s obviously lying. That isn’t even possible. Unless she’s iniquitous.”

I know better than to interrupt a potential employer, even worse if it’s to correct them, but this woman is grating on my nerves. Plus, I had a lifetime of keeping my head down with Matt, and I just don’t have the patience for this kind of crap anymore. And she called me a liar. Hell no.

“No, Ms. Brim, I’m not ubiquitous.” Maxwell snorts, and I swear the other guy, Bertrand, smiles behind my CV. I refrain from telling her what iniquitous actually means because I do need this job. “I worked as a barista in a Starbucks from 5 to 11 am. Then as a waitress at “Clair de Lune” from 12 to 6 pm. Finally, as a bartender in an Irish pub from 7 to midnight or 2 am, depending on the day. You can call any of those places and see I’m not lying.” Just please, God, don’t ask for my papers.

Maxwell reads the resumé when Bertrand gives it to him. “Do you speak French and Spanish as well?”

I shrug. “I love languages, and I grew up in a house where my mom and grandmother only spoke Spanish. I learned French in school. I had an amazing teacher.”

Maxwell and Bertrand look at each other. The older brother, a younger, sterner version of Hugh Jackman, clears his throat. “I’ll be honest with you, Ms. Ortiz. Two of our waiters are absent, and tomorrow we’ll be catering to one of the most important events of the year. If everything in your resume is true, you can start training today --paid of course, and start working tomorrow.”

Paid training? Despite my throbbing head, I want to scream with happiness. “Everything is true.”

“That’s settled then. Penelope, please, darling, show Ms. Ortiz the kitchens and the ballroom. You can ask Naomi to train her for tonight. You know Regina, and she’ll want everything to go as smooth as possible.”

“Right.” Penelope turned at me with an uptight smile. “Come with me.”

I turn and beam at Maxwell, who’s giving me a thumbs up. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

Bertrand shakes his head. “Don’t thank me yet, Ms. Ortiz. Just do an impeccable job.” He glances at my Vans. “And for the love of God, only heels tomorrow.”

I nod and follow Penelope down the hallway.

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

DRAKE

“This is why you ditch your friends who get hitched to a relationship,” I grumble, sitting in my chair.

“He’s five minutes late,” Liam says.

Leo shakes his head. “Well, I want a goddamn drink. How come I can’t order one until he gets here?”

Liam pinches the bridge of his nose. “You two are acting like children. You can wait five minutes.”

“Maybe, but I need something, and fast.”

“Ah, there they are,” Max exclaims, hands clasped together, staring at us. “My boys.” Jesus Christ. Liam is scooped into a hug and then set back in his chair.

From over Liam’s head, Max points at me and shakes his finger. “Come here; you handsome Walker bastard.”

I hold up my hand. “I’m good.”

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “You don’t get to pass up Max’s snuggles.” Before I can move, he swoops to his knees, pulls me into a hug. . . and nuzzles.

“What the fuck are you doing, Beaumont?” I ask, my voice strong as I try to push him away.

“You smell like heaven,” he says, chuckling. No one likes to fuck with me as much as Maxwell Beaumont does. Unfortunately for me, he’s one of my best friends, and the bastard is well aware of it.

“Get out of here.” I palm his face and push him away.

Leo laughs. “Come on, man, you know Walker is a sour bastard.”

With another laugh, Maxwell retreats to his seat, unbuttons his jacket, and sits down. Hands-on the table, he looks between us and declares, “I’m in love.”

Christ. “We know,” Liam and I say at the same time, irritation heavy in our voices. Leo just rolls his eyes as he looks for a waiter.

Maxwell has only been dating Rashad for a few weeks, so it’s no surprise he’s like this—a hopeful idiot with a relentless smile. Hell, he’s been in love with the man for years. It took him a really, really long time to finally make a move. He adjusts his tie as he says, “You don’t have to be rude about it. I’m just sharing. Isn’t that what this is all about? Sharing?”

“Sharing? I thought this was about drinking as much as possible and hooking up with a hot waitress,” Leo says, flagging down our waiter.

When he arrives, I talk above the guys and quickly say, “Macallan, neat.”

“Dalmore, on the rocks, please,” Liam says, and Leo orders the same.

When the waiter turns to Max, he rubs his stomach and says, “You know, a hot cocoa would be perfect right now.”

What the actual fuck? “No.” I step in. “He’ll have an Old Fashion. Thanks.” A little confused and probably slightly disturbed, he takes off as Max complains.

“Hey, I really wanted a hot cocoa.”

“Not happening. First, because they don’t serve hot cocoas here and second because we’re supposed to be out drinking, Beaumont. And you fucking love Old Fashions. You order one every damn time. Stop complaining.”

“Sheesh.” Maxwell unfolds his napkin and sets it on his lap. “What’s up your ass?”

“Nothing.” I push my hand through my hair.

“It’s a girl.” Leo smirks, causing Liam and Max to practically jump out of their seats.

“A girl?” Liam cocks his eyebrow. “Surely not Drake --permanent bachelor, Walker. My fucking heart can’t take it.”

Fucking Leo. “It’s not what Leo is making it out to be.”

“He met her two months ago, and he’s been thinking about her ever since. Magical pussy right there.”

“I swear, Leo; I don’t care for how long we’ve been friends, next time you talk about her like that, I’ll personally break that shit-eat grin off your face”

The clown raises his arms. “I rest my case.”

“What?” Max’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. “Drake Walker doesn’t get attached, and he doesn’t duel his friends for a girl.”

Jesus. Thankfully the waiter brings our drinks at that moment, so I have a second to compose myself.

“You slept with her?” Liam asks after a swig of Dalmore. He’s been in a stable relationship with Hanna Lee for a year now. Once the most popular guy on school, he now spends his Friday nights curled up with her watching Netflix. I can’t even remember the last time he went out with us.

“I don’t want to talk about it. The only reason this fuckhead is bringing it up it’s because I went looking for her, and he saw it.” There I said it. Better me than Leo fucking Rys.

Max and Liam exchange a look, but Max seems too stunned to talk, so Liam asks. “You did what?”

I chug my whiskey and ask for another one. “I don’t know why. I just …” Tired of this fucking conversation, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “We had a great time. That’s all.”

“How come Leo knows about this girl, and I don’t?” Liam complains.

Max complains too. “Dude, you know I’m the romantic one. Leo over here has a brick for a heart, and Li is too busy. You need to discuss these things with me.”

“I don’t have a brick for a heart,” Leo says, surprisingly offended.

“No, you’re just still hung up on Maddie,” I say with a smirk. He shifts in his chair but doesn’t say anything. What does it feel, Rys?

“So . . . who is the girl?” Maxwell asks.

For fuck’s sake. I might as well get it over with. “I’m going to say one last time that I’m not interested in her anymore, so before your little hearts starts beating wildly for playing cupid, it’s not going to happen.”

In a snarky tone, Leo replies, “Well, of course, it’s not. She left the country. Are you that bad, Walker? Because I can give you a tip or two.” He’s so fucking annoying.

“Oh.” Max sighs, disappointed.

Leo elbows his brother and says, “He hasn’t slept with anyone since.”

And there it is. The real reason why Leo is worried about this. He lost his wingman. “I’m not an animal, Leo. It’s not the first time in my life that I go two months without fucking. I’m not you. Anyway, all this is pointless. She’s gone.”

My friends grew up with me, so they know when it’s time to stop pushing. Max interrupts the silence that follows because nothing makes little Beaumont more uncomfortable than a gap in the conversation. “Everything is ready for the party tomorrow night. The thirtieth anniversary of Rys Corporation will be a success.”

Liam nods. “Regina talked with Hana this morning. It’s the first anniversary since I took over as CEO. I need everything to be perfect.”

“What about the staff, Max?” Leo asks, smiling. Having sex at every anniversary party is a personal challenge of his.

“We actually hired someone today. She’s gorgeous.” He turns his head at Leo. “But she’s off-limits.” Leo smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. “I mean it, dude. Bertrand said he’s tired of looking for new waitresses. Two quit yesterday morning when they found out that the event was for Rys corporation.”

“Hey, I never lie. It’s not my fault if they think I’ll call them anyway.”

“Whatever, just don’t mess with her. Plus, I got to talk to her after her training today. She’s super nice. She’s Am--. Wait.” He says when his phone chimes up. “Sorry, boys. It was a text from Penelope. Apparently, the Chablis hasn’t been delivered yet. I have to call Joelle before I lose my big brother over a wine crisis. See you all tomorrow.” He finishes his cocktail and stands up.

Liam stands up too. “I should go home too. Han arrived today from Hong Kong.”

Leo checks his phone. “Wait, Li. I’ll go with you. I have a date with this girl I met last night at Kismet. Do you want to come, man?” He asks me. “I’m sure she has a friend she can introduce you.”

I shake my head. “I’ll finish my whiskey and head home. See you all tomorrow.”

It was only one fucking night. Why can’t I get her out of my head?

It’s maddening. Or maybe it is a blessing. If I’m still thinking about her after one night, imagine how bad I’d have it after several. It’s best that she stays far the fuck away from me. I’m not interested in long-term attachments of any kind. I don’t want to think about Lexie Ortiz, but she’s infected my brain. The sound of her teasing laugh haunts me.

And I can’t deny it; it was one hell of a night.

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

ALEXIS

“This is a single girl’s paradise.”

“No,” I grimace, trying to clean the spilled tomato sauce from my shirt. “Paradise would be a tropical beach with a hot cabana boy giving us free massages... and an endless supply of piñas Coladas.” Naomi laughs, the sound almost lost in the chaos of the kitchen. Chefs shouting orders, Penelope and Bertrand panicking, plates being dropped—the world of catering is a noisy business.

“Cabana boys may have hot smoking bodies and virility, Lex, but they lack two essential qualities: prestige and money.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you’d prefer an old limp dick over a young hard one? Interesting,” I answer, teasing her.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, smart ass. I’m saying I’d take a solid bank account over a solid dick. Think about it—with all that money, he could never fuck me at all, and I couldn’t care less. And I’d be treated properly. Rich guys know how to treat a lady.”

“Trust me on this, Naomi. Money has absolutely nothing to do with how a man treats a woman.” I should know. “In any case,” I retort, grabbing another tray of drinks, “if you’re looking for old rich guys, there are tons of opportunities out there.” I laugh at the dreamy look on her face, partly because it’s hilarious and partly because I know she’s kidding. After my training last night, she invited me to her house, where I met Theo, her little boy. He’s eight years old and the absolute love of her life.

“Speaking of fucking,” she says, her eyes sparkling, “did you see the Rys brothers? One of them is taken, but the other two are single and oh so yummy. Especially the tall and brooding one. I’ll kill for those smoldering brown eyes looking right at my soul”

I snort. “You really should stop reading romance novels, Nao. And yes. I served one of them and his girlfriend champagne earlier, but he was blond and didn’t have smoldering, brooding eyes. I thought they were only two brothers, though.”

“Well, technically, yes. But Constantine Rys --the super-rich owner of Rys Corporation-- adopted two other kids. A boy and a girl. They all grew up together.” She uncorks several champagne bottles as she speaks.

Now that my uniform is clean, I grab one of the Veuve Clicquot bottles and help her pouring the cold liquid into the glasses on our trays. “How do you know all of that?”

“I’m Cordonian, girl. The Rys siblings are almost royalty in this country. The one that is not an actual Rys is the one with the smoldering eyes. He doesn’t work for the company, though. He’s a … a vet, I think.”

A veterinarian like Drake. My stupid heart flutters when I think about him.

“Do we pay you to work or to gossip, ladies?” Penelope screams from the kitchen door.

Naomi and I roll our eyes and grab our refilled trays.

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

DRAKE

“This is a huge night for Liam,” Regina says behind her champagne glass. Constantine has been telling everyone, especially her, that he’s ready and happy to retire, but she knows him better than anyone. Leaving Rys Corporation and pass the torch to Liam is much more difficult for Constantine than he cares to admit.

“It’ll be all right, Regina. Don’t worry. Liam is more than ready to handle the responsibility.”

She throws a glance at Liam, who’s standing a few feet behind me next to his dad. “I just hope he doesn’t forget that his personal life is equally important. He and Hana work too hard.”

I’m about to answer when one of the waitresses distracts me. Her back is turned to me, so I can’t see her face, but there is something incredibly familiar about the way she moves. She’s passing drinks amongst Regina’s friends. I want to go and see who she is, but Liam catches my eyes across the room. We exchange a look, one that we’ve exchanged several times over our lives. It was Liam and me when we were younger, walking into his father’s office after getting into a fight at school. It was the two of us when we came home late, and his parents were waiting in the living room as we walked in, drunk. It was the two of us when we wrecked Leo’s new Porsche when we were sixteen, and right now, I know he needs me. Constantine is a great father, but he has too many expectations for his younger son. Liam needs a break.

Regina sees the exchange and smiles. “Liam’s very lucky to have you, Drake.” She is not our biological mother, but she loves all of us as if she was. And she’s more my mother than Bianca Walker will never be.

A couple of men look at me, and I try to remember if I should know them from somewhere. I think they’re both on the board of directors at RC. As much as I love the Rys, I will never get used to this shit. Socializing and pretending to like a bunch of people that annoy the fuck out of me. Ignoring them, I make my way to my best friend. Liam is standing with his hands in his pockets, looking serious and put together like the CEO of the largest company in Cordonia should.

“I think it’s going well,” he says as I approach. “Father was driving me crazy with all his advice.”

“It’s not only the anniversary of the company, Li. It’s also his first one as the former CEO. It’s normal he feels out of place.”

Liam nods. “I know. I just wish he’ll trust me more.”

“He does, Liam. He’s just nervous.”

I’m cut short by Liam’s grin. His gaze slides right behind me and lights up.

“Would either of you like a glass of champagne?” a female, very familiar voice nearly whispers behind me.

“I’m good,” Liam answers, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “How about you, Drake?”

I turn around, and my heart skips a beat. Soft curves, tanned skin, and a few freckles across the bridge of her nose. The brightest, most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen. Alexis Ortiz tucks a strand of her rich brown hair behind her ear and takes a deep breath. Her eyes widen, and I see she recognizes me but doesn’t mention it. Instead, a faint smile ghosts her luscious lips, and she lifts her chin like she has a secret she won’t tell. A secret we share. Her gaze remains on Liam, almost like she’s afraid to look my way. Finally, she turns to me, and when she does, an adorable blush color her cheeks.

“Would you, uh, sir?” she asks, taking half a step backward.

“Would I what?” I press, enjoying too much the way her cheeks turn even pinker.

“Would you like a drink?” The words leave her lips fast like she wants to pronounce them and run away. I take a step towards her, remembering the night she spent in my arms and how damn perfect she felt. I know I make her nervous because I see little goosebumps erupting on her soft skin. I smirk at her. “That depends on what you’re offering.”

I shouldn’t be toying with her, but I can’t help it. I want to keep her talking, to watch her reactions, to see that sweet smile again.

“I don’t have much to offer,” she says, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Unless you like champagne, sir.” She emphasizes the last word.

“I like all sorts of things.” I keep my gaze heavy against hers, not allowing her to look away. She fidgets with her tray and swallows hard but never takes her eyes off mine, too rebellious to look away. The longer our eyes match, the hotter my body becomes. She bits her delicious bottom lip slowly, her dark gaze boring into mine.

“Is that so?” Liam laughs beside me, and I watch her jump like she forgot he was there. Alexis clears her throat and glances around the room. She turns back to us again, this time a practiced smile on her face. The easy grin and soft laugh are both gone. She wants to get away from me, I can feel it, and I understand. She’s working; it wouldn’t be professional. This is not the time or the place to reconnect. Unfortunately for her, I have other plans.

“Gentlemen ...” With a nod, Alexis walks away as fast as possible. She doesn’t look back, but I watch her until she’s out of sight.

“What was that?” Liam snickers, loosening his gray silk tie. “I thought you were going to jump on her.”

I rub my thumb over my lip, still surprised as hell.

“That was Alexis, the girl I met a couple of months ago. Now, if you excuse me, Li, I need to go talk to Bertrand.”

@mskaneko @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @kat-tia801 @no-one-u-know @thegreentwin @twinkle-320 @forallthatitsworth @kingliam2019 @marshmallowsandfire @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @princessleac1 @twinkleallnight @tinkie1973 @drakexwillow @moneyfordiamonds

@yukinagato2012 @alyssalauren

#drake x alexis #drake walker #drake walker fanfic #drake x mc #tw domestic violence

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hockeyisit · 3 years

Text

It'll Be Okay.

Summary: Auston and Amelia talk to their son.

A.N: It’s at the end of the story.

Word Count: 2,472

Masterlist

Auston and I were curled up on the couch as we watched a rerun of That 70s Show. His arm was wrapped around me with his feet stretched out on the coffee table. I leaned into his side turning my head to rest my chin on his chest.

“Are you ready to go up for bed?” I asked, feeling myself growing more tired by the minute. He looked away from the tv to look down at me. His expression softened as he took in my sleepy form.

“Yeah sure. You head up and I’ll be there in a minute,” he said pushing me gently to sit up. I pouted slightly upset he wasn't coming up yet but decided against saying anything. I leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips before making my way upstairs. I walked over to Kais bedroom first and knocked. I waited a moment for an answer but after none I knocked again.

“Kai I’m coming in,” I said pushing the door open, only once I was in his room he was nowhere to be found. Maybe he’s in Noah’s room I thought as I walked out of his room to Noah’s. I knocked before announcing that I was coming in. As I pushed the door open Noah was sitting at his desk working on homework.

“Where's your brother?” I asked once I noticed he was alone. Noah looked up from his textbook with an eyebrow raised.

“In his room,”

“Uh no he's not. Try again,” I said, putting my hand on my hip. He glanced at me, his expression radiating annoyance.

“Did you check the bathroom?” he sassed before holding his hands up defensively when I gave him a stern look.

“He’s not in the bathroom, the door was open,” I walked further into the room.

“Do you know where he is?” I asked again. Kai was never one to sneak out of the house; it was something we expected from Noah but never Kai. Noah nervously reached up to rub at the back of his neck.

“He didn’t tell me where he was going,” he finally answered. I ran my hand through my hair frustrated.

“But he isn’t here?” I asked for clarification. He nodded looking back down at his text book. I sighed as I turned to walk out of his room.

“Tell me if he texts you,” I called out softly as I closed his door. I peeked into Brody and Elsa’s room before heading to mine. I pushed the door open to see Auston sitting on the bed facing the wall.

“Kai snuck out,” I said, causing his head to snap to me.

“Are you serious?” He asked standing up and walking over to me. I sighed as I nodded pulling my phone out. I had made both of the boys share their location with me as part of a deal that they could have a later curfew after Noah's sneaking out got to be too much.

“He turned his location off,” I groaned, turning my phone to show Auston. He took it from my hand and looked at it before closing out of the app to pull up Kai’s contact. He hit call and put it on speaker. It dialled for a few moments before going to voicemail. He hit end call and tried again. When he didn’t answer on the second call I pulled my phone from Auston’s grip and sent him a text.

Where are you

Answer now!

“Does Noah know where he is?” he asked, running his hand through his hair. I shook my head no. Auston glanced at me before marching his way out of our room and over to Noah’s. I followed hot on his heels. He pushed Noah’s door open without knocking causing him to jump at his desk.

“Dude,” Noah whined looking at us. Auston gave him a look that shut him up quickly.

“Give me your phone,” Auston asked holding his hand out. Noah looked at him in disbelief as he held it.

“Why?” he asked.

“Noah,” Auston warned, his hand still held out. Noah reluctantly handed it over.

“What's your password?” he asked, Noah reached out and turned it to face him causing it to unlock.

“What are you doing?” he asked. I looked over Auston’s shoulder as he pulled up Kai’s contact and hit call putting it on speaker. He didn’t answer so Auston repeated the action thankfully on the second call his voice finally came through.

“Dude what do you want?” Kai’s voice rang through the phone breathless.

“Dude you're so grounded,” Auston responded. It was silent for a moment before he silently cursed.

“Get home now,” Auston said sternly, he ended the call and handed Noah his phone back before storming out of the room. The two of us watched as he left Noah looking at me concerned.

“Get some rest alright,” I said tapping his shoulder and then leaving him alone.

“Auston,” I called after his retreating figure. He stopped rather abruptly causing me to slightly run into him. His arms quickly reached out to steady us as he turned to face me.

“I’m just going to wait downstairs for him to get home,” he mumbled as he wrapped me up in a hug. I leaned my head against his chest as I hugged him back tightly.

“I’ll wait with you,” I pulled away and leaned up to peck his lips. I then pulled away completely and ran into our bedroom to grab a blanket before following Auston down the stairs.

“Okay are we playing good cop bad cop? Or are we going to just straight up ask if everythings alright? Is he grounded or?” I questioned once we were both cuddled up on the couch. Auston’s hand reached out to cover my mouth causing me to shut up and stare at him with innocent eyes.

“Shh babe, will just ask him why he needed to sneak out,” he said like it was as simple as that. I raised an eyebrow, which made him take his hand off my mouth quickly and send me an innocent smile of his own.

Around ten minutes later Kai walked into the house looking extremely nervous. He slipped his shoes off before turning around to face the two of us. Auston and I stared at him as he awkwardly stared back.

“Have a seat bud,” Auston finally said, breaking the silence. Kai made his way over and sat on the couch next to us.

“Am I in trouble?” he asked hesitantly.

“I guess that depends on if you can tell us where you were,” Auston responded, moving his arm that was wrapped around me.

“I can't tell you,” he responded looking away towards the ceiling. I held my breath as I turned my attention away from Kai to Auston. It wasn't like him to keep secrets from us.

“And why not? Was it anything illegal?” Auston asked impatiently. A panicked look crossed Kai’s face before he relaxed.

“It wasn't anything bad, I was just with a friend,” he said trying to reassure us.

“Who?” I asked leaning further into Auston. He glanced at me before turning back to Kai. We all sat in silence for another minute before Kai let out another long deep sign.

“I can't tell you,” he whispered, his right leg started shaking causing the couch to shake. I turned to give Auston a questioning look before turning back to Kai.

“And why not?” Auston asked confused.

“I’m bisexual,” he whispered after another few minutes of silence. My head snapped up to face Kia as I took in his words. I turned to Aston with a shocked expression. Out of all the things I thought Kai would say that was the furthest from what I actually thought he would say.

“What?” I asked leaning forward and out of Auston’s touch.

“I I uh, I’m Bi and I’m seeing a guy right now,” he stuttered out rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at his lap. Auston’s grip had tightened around me but had slowly loosened as Kai talked to us.

“Oh my god,” I said as I covered my mouth in shock. Kai and Auston both turned to me looking nervous.

“What?” Kai asked leaning forward on the couch.

“Did we just force you to come out?” I asked, latching onto Auston’s leg in guilt. Kai looked at us in shock for a moment before shaking his head.

“No mom. I just haven’t really needed to tell you guys,” he admitted shrugging his shoulders. I glanced over to Auston hoping that I could get some type of reaction from him. He looked more shocked then I did but other than that he seemed fine.

“But now?” I asked.

“Now I do,” he glanced away from me to Auston, who had been quiet the whole time.

“I’ve been talking to someone and I really like them,” he looked down at his feet. “I can’t tell you who it is because they aren't out but,” he shrugged.

“I’m sorry I snuck out,” he finished. Auston burst out laughing causing the two of us to look at him in shock.

“Dude,” I said, elbowing him harshly. Kai looked like he was seconds away from making a dash for it. Auston sobered up quickly as he rubbed his side.

“Sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I promise. Kai no matter who you like or fuck your mother and I are going to support you,” Auston said causing me to gasp loudly as I elbowed him again. Although I agreed with his words I wish he had been a little less vulgar.

“But kid sneak out again and you're grounded for the rest of your life. Also if you're willing to come out and he’s not then he’s not worth your time,” Auston told him gently.

“It’s complicated,” Kai said looking away. I stood up and made my way over to him so I could pull him into a hug.

“Have you told Noah?” I asked, leaving my arm around him. He shook his head no.

“Nobody knows,” he glanced between the two of us.

“I do think you should consider telling Noah because he seemed pretty hurt that you snuck out without telling him,” Auston teased. I laughed lightly as I rubbed my arm up and down his back.

“I do want to tell people I’m just worried I guess,” he glanced down at his hands as he nervously fiddled with his bracelet.

“If I come out and if I make it to the MLB I’d be like the only out player. It would draw so much attention to me and I don’t really want to be known as the gay player. I also don’t want it to negatively affect Noah. If he gets interviewed theyll ask about what it's like-'' he ranted as he fiddled. Auston reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Kai, you're overthinking it. Yeah it might be scary to be one of the only out players but it’s scarier to live in fear. It’s important for you to be yourself and we live in a time where people are more accepting. I get that the lockerooms can still be rough,-” Auston griminaced slightly as he thought back to all the gay slur’s he had heard or laughed at back in the day.

“Be who you are. Your mother and I will unconditionally love you no matter what,” he trailed off. Kai’s eyes filled with tears slightly, he tried to hide it by looking away. I reached out for his other hand.

“Papi’s right,” I squeezed his hand.

“I know that the locker rooms can be really bad sometimes but the leagues are all truly more accepting and we live in a generation now that is trying to change. I’m sorry if coming out to us was scary for you. I truly hope Papi and I haven't ever said anything to make you feel scared to tell us.”

“No mom it wasn't anything like that I promise,” he glanced up at me trying to reassure me. As I went to say more we heard the sound of the stairs creaking. Noah casually making his way down the stairs only to stop abruptly when he saw the scene in front of him. I shared a quick look with Kai and he gave us a nod. I dropped his hand and stood up Auston doing the same. Kai stood up as well.

“Alright will talk more tomorrow. You boys get to bed soon you have school in the morning,” I warned them. They both nodded

“Love you guys,” I told them and pulled Kai into a quick hug before doing the same with Noah. Auston and I quickly made our escape upstairs. I pushed our bedroom door open and Auston closed it behind him. He reached out for me and pulled me into a tight hug. I let out a soft sigh as I wrapped my arms around him.

“What a night,” I laughed lightly as I pulled away to look at his face. Auston sent me a small smirk as he nodded.

“Yeah for real,” he looked like he was in deep thought so I pulled away to go brush my teeth and get ready for bed.

“Do you think I should make like a big breakfast or something tomorrow?” I asked after the silence went on for a little too long. Auston looked up from his phone with a small frown.

“No,” he mumbled. I frowned as I made my way over to him. He was being more moody than usual.

“What’s wrong?” I sat next to him on the bed causing him to lock his phone.

“I feel like I should have known and I didn’t mean to laugh,” he mumbled as he laid down on the bed. He moved his arm to rest over his face as he thought back to just a few moments ago. His shirt rode up slightly. I reached out and placed my hand on his chest as I leaned closer. I knew that if I didn't say anything it would force Auston to keep talking.

“He looked two seconds away from bursting into tears when I started laughing and I feel really bad,” he continued.

“Babe he was just shocked. You said all the right things and he knows that you are supportive. He knows we love him,” I schooced closer so I could rest my head on his chest causing him to move his arm from his face to around me.

“I’ll make breakfast in the morning,” Auston mumbled. I grinned up at him as he leaned forward to connect our lips.

“Yay,” I said softly as I started to doze off in his arms.

“Love you.”

A.N Hello! Here's just a quick little glimpse into the future of Auston and Amelia! Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. Another thing I want to say is that I myself am bisexual and for a really long time I wanted to make Amelia bisexual because of that but I was never to sure what to do with that because I know a lot of my readers may not be bisexual themselves. So I came up with the idea of one of the twins being bi almost immediately. Anyway I hope it was something yall enjoyed reading. I love hearing your feedback and questions so don't be afraid to send them in! Also thank you so much for all the support I have received in these past few months you guys have really helped me through a really hard semester.

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews fanfic #auston matthews fic #auston matthews x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fanfic #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl writing #nhl x reader

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honeygingergemini · 4 years

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Now I'm thirsty for your writing! Can you write one where reader or steve wants to make a sex tape? Thank you😘😘

Hello my dear :) Thank you for being patient with me. I had writers block and just thought everything I was writing sucked so I kept deleting it and starting over. I hope you like it @donutloverxo

p.s. I was today years old when I found out tumblr doesn’t send you a notification when someone answers your ask (I’ve only ever asked on anon bc my main blog is something different so let me know if I am wrong lol) I tagged you just incase <3 IGNORE TYPOS :)

pairing: Steve rogers x fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: camera sex, dirty talk, oral male receiving mentions of face fucking (light), unprotected sex, cream pies and descriptions of it, light spanking, and praise kink for stevie :)

On Camera

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. My heart is racing and we haven’t even done anything but set up the camera. We’ve only been dating for five months and four days, so imagine the graveling I had to do to get America’s golden boy to agree to fuck me on camera. I begged Steve for so long and now I'm the shy one. We’re supposed to be making a sex tape yet we are on opposite ends of the bed.

Steve’s bare back is against the headboard while his long legs are spread out before him. He keeps looking everywhere but the camera. His eyes bounce from the walls to the sofa in the corner of the room but once he looks at me, he looks at the camera and he retreats further into his shell. His hand keeps running over his shorts and now I'm starting to feel bad.

He agreed to this for me but I know he’s nervous. Maybe he doesn’t want to actually do this? Maybe I don’t want to do this?

Nothing will happen if I get up and turn the camera off now, nothing will happen except me being deathly embarrassed. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I know I want this, I thought about it for a long time before and after bringing it up to Steve. It was my bright idea and now I'm sitting here twiddling my thumbs like a dummy.

You’ve had sex with Steve countless times, this is no different don’t let the camera scare you. Just relax, he’s your boyfriend, the one you’ve slept with numerous times. Just kiss him.

I take a deep breath looking at Steve whose skin is slightly flushed. I lean over to his side of the bed and reach for him taking in his warmth. His skin is damp with a light coating of sweat. Steve’s eyes shoot over to mine with the unexpected contact.

“Hi.” I smile at Steve hoping to relax him. As well as myself.

“Hi.” He looks at me but then quickly looks at the camera. I follow suit doing the same.

We need a distraction from the boxed recording device. I lean over more to capture Steve’s lips in a demure kiss. I kiss him slowly trying to memorize every detail of his mouth. My tongue rolls over his teeth before dipping further into his mouth pulling a deep groan from him, but after his groan he tense and pulls away.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah... i’m still not...” comfortable. he didn’t have to say it for me to know what he meant. I lift my body over his straddling him as I trace my fingers over his body knowing the simple act calms him. It works because this time Steve initiates the kiss. It’s more firm than the last but pleasing just the same. Our tongues waltz in a sinful manner pulling soft calls from me. Forced breaths exit my nostrils as I grind my hips slowly into his. His large hands grip my hips and he pulls me down harder.

“Uh Steve.” I moan out. “More please.” He’s now attacking my neck leaving open mouth kisses across my jugular. His hips push up to meet mine once then twice then it’s a repeated action that leaves me breathless.

His eyes snap open to meet mine but instead they meet the camera and his arms drop to his side. Deep sighs are released from the both of us

“I’m sorry princess... I'm just trying to get used to this.” I know he’s turned on right now. I can feel how turned on he is.

“Do you want to stop?” He looks at me but doesn’t answer. I peck his lips quickly before removing myself from his thighs. My fingers are at the rim of his shorts very close to pulling them down before Steve sits up to stop me.

“What are you doing?” it comes out mumbled together almost as one complete word.

“Let me help you relax.'' I push his chest back down softly and continue my plan. I pull his shorts down just enough to free his erection. It bounces back and hits Steve's stomach. I take him into my hands and slowly stroke him. I bend over Steve's thigh arching my back while bringing my spit slick lips to his tip and leave a wet kiss. Steve shudders whispering profanity under his breath. My tongue joins the fun, slipping out to run around the tip in slow semi circles. I continue my teasing until Steve's hips jut forward and his hand is on the base of my neck.

“Suck it right.” He grunts voice hoarse “Stop playing with me.”

“Yes sir.” The last words I say before I take him fully into my mouth. I push down until my nose is met by the coarse curls of his base. One of my hands grip Steve’s thigh while the other is holding on to the side of his abdomen subconsciously giving the camera a perfect view. Steve's grip on my neck is unwavering; he's holding my head down.

“Fuck... breathe through your nose doll.” He grunts with a rasp I’ve never heard from him before. I take in sloppy breaths trying to calm down. “You gonna let me fuck your face? hmm princess?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer; he begins pushing his hips up into me slowly speeding up with each thrust until he’s assaulting the back of my throat. The action pulls strangled noises from me. My sounds only serve as encouragement for Steve. I think he’s completely forgotten about the camera.

Steve juts his hips in a way that knocks the wind out of me. I gag around him getting a deep groan in return.

“F-fuck princess.” His hand finds your ass with conviction. Steve suddenly becomes fixated on your bottom. His burly hands run from your ass and down your thighs repeatedly. I wiggle my lower half as a silent plea for him to spank you again and he complies.

“You like it when Captain spanks you?” Slap. “You like the pain?” Slap. “I asked you something, doll.” you were presented with two slaps this time. I nod ferociously around Steve’s cock. The super soldier rubs the area he’s abused before dipping his fingers into your core.

“Shit princess.” he continues toying around with your pussy. He pulls your head from his dick not wanting to end his fun prematurely. His tongue meets yours in a grimy kiss. “I can’t wait to watch that back.” Steve mumbles around your lips as you simultaneously squeeze the finger within you.

“Oh? You like that?” Steve adds his middle finger to his index and presses into your warm sex deeply. I cry out enjoying the sweet burn of Steve’s fingers. “You like the thought of me watching this while i’m away?”

You absolutely loved the thought of Steve watching you pleasure him when he’s away. An image of Steve hunched over dick in hand pumping himself into oblivion leaves you dripping.

“Take your dress off.” Steve demands his voice carrying power. I begin stripping myself for him when he quickly stops me. “Nuh uh, not for me, for the camera.”

I turn to the camera as a shiver runs down my spine. My slip dress easily falls off my body leaving me with only black lace panties as covering. Not that I want to be covered in this moment.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve’s thickset hands wrap around me from behind covering my breast giving them a pleasure filled squeeze. “Such a pretty sight.” Steve brings his body to mold into mine from behind. His left hand trails it’s way down back to my clothed opening.

“Can i touch you?” I nod yes at Steve's ridiculous question. Why would you ever deny him? Your response must be good enough because he’s pressing down over the fabric just the way you like. It doesn’t take long for his self restraint to be overcome and he’s dipping his fingers under your panties. He dips into your liquid arousal and coats your sex with it.

“You’re dripping princess.” He shudders to himself. He says it every time you two are intimate but you never get tired of hearing it. “So wet.”

“Always for you.” My words flow out breathlessly “Only for you.” You’re unsure of when steve removed his shorts but he’s aligning himself with your entrance. He’s bare. There’s no protective barrier between the two of you. He’s never done this before. You’ve never done this before. His tip is barely grazing your lips, Steve surprises you.

“Are you okay with this?” He asks for your permission and of course you accept. How could you turn down your favorite super soldier? So now you’re face down into the mattress dripping at the idea of getting to feel your Steve in a new way. A more personal way. Steve pushes into you slowly, only his tip. An exasperated moan leaves you as your suspicion is confirmed. You feel every detail of Steve's mushroom tip. Your vice like grip cups him into your squelching center holding him there. You absentmindedly hear Steve express his approval of the pleasure your body is providing him. Steve pulls out his tip just as slow as he entered. A suctioning click echos in the room showing just how wet you are.

“Fuck.” Steve whispers “You feel like a dream doll.”

He hasn’t fully delved into your sweetness and he’s on cloud nine. Not wanting to waste anymore time Steve dips into your bottoming out quickly and stays there. Labored breaths from both of you fill the room. It feels like Steve sits there forever unwavering. He takes in every detail of your squishy walls as you commit every vein, dip, and curve of Steve’s dick to memory.

“Stevie baby,” You can barely breathe but you need him to move. “Move… please… for me.”

Steve takes in one deep breath before he’s pounding into with great intensity. He doesn’t work your way up to his speed. He just slams into you, repeatedly. Hips clashing into your ass causing a jiggle that Steve adores. His hands strike your bottom giving added stimulation you didn’t know you needed. Steve pulls your head off of the bed bringing your body to lay flush against his. He dips his hips just a little bit lower and his tip sweeps the sweet spot located deep in your center only he can reach. You choke out a cry, his name being the only thing on your mind. Your cries encourage him to duplicate the action.

“It feel good, doll?” You nod so fast you feel the contents of your mind scramble.

“Say it, tell the camera how much you like it.” Steve turns your head to the recording device in front of you. Something you forgot was even present in the room with you. “Tell the camera” With each word his body collides with yours making sure you feel him as well as his words deep. “ Tell ‘em how much you like Captain stretching this pussy out.”

“Tell them.” Steve’s stern grunts are accompanied by passionate strikes to your outer thigh.

“Captain…” You whine, The pleasure is starting to feel overwhelming. “You feel so good, so different.” You want to catch your breath but you always want to please Steve. Captain has a praise kink.

“I can feel all of you.” You reach behind yourself to cup Steve's head. “It’s so deep.” You sigh when his fingers find your clit. The tingle of your orgasm begins at your toes and travels up your body. You’re so close.

“You’re the only one that can make me feel this way.” Steve grunts in approval of your expression pressing harder into your clit. He likes control but only because you give it to him so when you praise him, he feels like he’s on fire.

“I love when you touch me like that.” Another grunt from Steve. I teeter close to saying something important, something so permanent that once I say it, it can't be taken back. Steve’s chest puffs with need. A need for you to express the feeling you both have swirling within your chest growing with each passing day. A small smack is applied to your clit before Steve flips you over so you’re on your back.

“Tell me what I want to hear.” His voice is as rough as his pace. You don’t respond. It’s only been a couple months. Way Too soon to say it.

“Don’t wanna say it?” Steve is plowing into making sure no air is left in your lungs. “But I thought I was doing so good?” His thrusts are unabated.

“Thought I was the only one that could make you feel this way? hmm? Thought only I could make you feel good?” Long drawn out moans escape you. One right after the other each one more melodic than the last.

“Be my good little baby and say it.” His thumb flicks around your bundle of nerves with sharp short strokes. “Say it princess.”

“I love you.” You think you say it. You hope you say it. You’re unsure, your words are completely slurred and your mind is only filled with white noise. Your body is levitating as your orgasm washes over you. You’re feeling everything all at once. Steve doesn’t stop. He doesn’t give you a moment to catch your breath.

“I know you do baby,” Steve chuckles, pleased with his work. “I love you so much more.” Each word is followed by a sweet kiss. Too sweet for what’s taking place. Your understanding of time becomes weary but soon enough Steve meets you at the peak.

“F-Fuucck doll.” His body tenses as he releases deep inside you. “Fuck.” Once he collects himself he’s off of you. You whine at the loss of heat from the super soldier. You didn’t realize it but Steve has grabbed the camera bringing its focus to your filled cunt.

“You look so pretty like this doll.” His finger dip into your overstimulated sex. He pushes the proof of his orgasm around before pulling some of it out to spread it across your lower lips.

You lay still trying, trying to breathe, trying to not pass out, trying to not look as fucked out as you feel. You hear steve mention how this was fun in the background but you don’t have the strength to respond. Soft kisses to your inner thighs, stomach, then lips lull you further into your euphoric state.

“You okay?”

“Mmhmm i’m perfect.” You sling a leg over the super soldier. “So you love me?” Steve’s soft chuckle is the last thing you grasp before falling into much needed slumber.

#smut writing #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #smut #steve rogers x you #nomad steve rogers fic #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x black!reader #chris evans black!reader #chris evans x black reader #honeygingergemini #ask ginger

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that-damn-girl · 4 years

Text

(8) Bucky and The Bed

Completed

Chapter 7

Bucky and The Bed Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (cis)fem!reader

Words: 3100+

Summary: You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an ‘electronic blackout’ during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky has become your personal heater and there’s only one bed.

Chapter type: Fluff.

Chapter/Trigger warning: Language? Like teensy weensy bit of angst?

A/N: Thank you for continuing to read this series still. After the end, which I will start on a Bucky x Rogers!reader miniseries. I am particularly excited to write the next two chapters. Hope you like this part!

Bucky looked at it. Kept looking at it. And looked at it some more.

The metal armed man was sure he couldn't ever get tired of the sight in front of him. It was simple and yet so complex he felt he could get lost into it and never regret a second. It might not be much, but it was enough for him to lose himself. He didn't know how to describe the sense of serenity it brought him.

Peeking through the light fluffy clouds, the setting sun cast warm golden rays that gave every snowy surface around you a honey like glaze. As the time gradually passed, various colours in the most brilliant of their shades blended beautifully to embellish the never-ending sky. As the slanting rays of the sun flitted through the clouds, the yellow filter in the sky gave way to a graceful braid of pink and orange before shrouding everything is it's vermilion hue.

In the handful of days you had taken refuge in the cabin, not one day had the sun been kind enough to grace you with its presence. When today it finally did, you and Bucky realised it was too good an opportunity to miss the sunset view these mountains offered. Without any further ado, a bonfire was created outside the cabin with dry leaves and firewood arranged meticulously.

The splendid view of nature in its finest forms was exploited to its full content. You and Bucky sat around the bonfire, taking in the furiously blushing sky and the snow covered peaks shining golden in the distance as the clouds traversed through them.

Bucky was taken aback by the raw beauty in front of his eyes. It reminded him of the sunsets in Wakanda. Sure it wasn't comparable to those in the futuristic and fascinating country, but it was a close second. He only grew more in awe of the view the more he looked at it. Majestic was one word for the sight in front of him. It wasn't the sky though.

It was you.

A small, unconscious smile took a hold of his lips as he took in your face, peacefully resting on his shoulder. Your arms were tightly curled around his vibranium one, your body leaning its weight on him. A shared blanket was thrown over your backs, trapping in the heat the fire provided.

For Bucky, it was majestic, really. How could it not have been, looking at your face, at the blend of the colours from the setting sun and the fire casting a beautiful glow to your already beautiful self? Your serene features were highlighted by the natural light and the dancing flames. You looked elegant and exquisite, more so than anyone he had ever known. As bewildering as it sounded, Bucky had met a god but the warm colours grazing your skin truly made you more divine than any other celestial being.

Bucky was utterly whipped.

Sensing his gaze on you, you tilted your head to look at him. Bucky had always had an intense face, even when he was relaxed or didn't mean to do it. You had encountered it many a times and dealt with the increase in your heart rate it brought, but you could never get used to his soft smile and gentle eyes looking at you with such adoration, such love, such trust, as if you had hung the stars and the moon for him. It overwhelmed you, always, but in the best of the ways. Especially since you had discovered a couple days ago that it wasn't just in your head.

Unable to stifle your own giddy smile, you reached up to kiss his lips. It was only meant to be a peck, but he drew you in even before you had the chance to pull back, always eager to taste you, to have you, to kiss you, to cherish you. You galdly gave into the kiss. It was soft and sweet, the way his lips molded around yours, moving in sync. The kiss slowly grew intense, but not heated. It was only filled with love and care, making him unable to put in the conscious effort of letting you go if you were okay with it.

Instead his strong arms wound around you and brought you to him lap so that you were straddling his thick thighs. His lips moved slow but firm, just taking the time to worship your lips as they deserved to be. One hand tightened around your middle, keeping you secure in his hold while the other drifted down to your butt, his large hands kneading your cheeks gently with utmost care and fondness. You slid your arms up his broad chest and around his neck, holding him close. Smiling in between the kisses, neither of you were able to let go, clinging to each other as none could get enough of the other.

When you finally did let go to breathe in lung fulls of the crisp, cold air, you moved to relieve him of your weight. His arms tightened around you in a slight moment of panic, refusing to dismiss the comfort you brought him just by your touch, your closeness. "Stay, please?" He softly pleaded.

You looked down at the heavy log of wood Bucky sat upon. It was broad enough to sit, but not enough to be comfortable if he kept your weight on himself for long. "Your legs are going to hurt, Bucky"

"Y/N, I don't know the true limit of the powers the serum gave me, but I think it's enough to stop a helicopter from taking off. I think I can hold my precious girl without hurting myself." He smiled at you with the boyish charm and the innocence of a first grader announcing that he got A+ in an assignment.

"Show off," You chuckled, booping his nose with yours. "But an adorable show off."

"What?" Bucky quietly, softly muttered, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "I like holding you, hugging you, having you close. That's all." Your heart fluttered in your chest, swelling with emotions. The simplicity, the vulnerability with which he admitted favouring your presence made you wonder just how much open and comfortable he was with you. You knew he liked you, trusted you, but it never ceased you from being overwhelmed everytime he expressed it.

Heart brimming with affection for the man in front of you, you didn't trust yourself not to confess then and there how deeply in love you were with him. Instead you said the only thing you could think of to draw the attention away from your racing heart. "You also like my butt."

The metal hand tenderly kneading your butt cheek stilled. Hesitance crept in every being of Bucky. He cursed himself, worried he had offended you or made you uncomfortable somehow. What he heard was unassuming, but he didn't want to take any chances if you didn't like it.

Bucky realised that since the day you had agreed to be his girl, he had given an awful amount of attention to your butt. He'd always rest his hands there while cuddling or gently knead the soft muscles as he was doing then. He would never deny that your behind was alluring to him, but his touch wasn't meant to be demeaning or enticing, at least not until you partook in sexy times. He'd only ever meant for his actions to treasure you, admire you, but he would not do it at the cost of your comfort.

You caught onto what must have been going inside his head. Bucky meant to draw his hand back and apologise, but you stopped him and quickly added, "I love the attention, honestly."

"You're not... offended by it?" Pulling back to look at you, he asked unsurely, making himself look as small as possible.

"Should I be?"

Bucky shook his head, "I like you and I respect you, a lot. You know that, right? I only do it, because...well, what's there not to like about your butt?" He emphasised it by giving a small squeeze to your soft muscles.

"I believe you," You chuckled, giving his plump lips a sweet peck."And I meant it, I love the attention you give it. But why do you like it so much? My ass is so-"

"It's perfect." Bucky finished your sentence before you could add in any negative comment about yourself. "You're perfect, doll."

"You're such a charmer." You mumbled, going for his lips with a wide smile.

"Only for you." Bucky replied, happy to taste you, feel you. When he pulled back, he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

With the fiery flames warming your back and Bucky's heated body pressed to your front, you snuggled into him further. Head resting on his broad shoulder, eyes closed, you basked in the comforting embrace, in the heat seeping into your bones. It was your own little heaven.

Feeling the sun on his skin after so many days had felt great. Although he was used to staying in the dark before he was rescued, he didn't like it one but. It felt good, immensely so. But with you at his side, with him, enveloped in his arms, your touch calming him, anchoring him, everything was better than never before.

It didn't take long for Bucky to realise that you had dozed off on his shoulder, your chest tranquilly rising and falling against him. Chuckling, he gripped both the ends of the blanket and curled his arms around you again, the pair of you now cocooned in the heat of the blanket.

He rested his chin on your shoulder, his head leaning against your, and looked at the dwindling flames in the darkening sky. Nightfall loomed at the corners, impatiently waiting for the sun to complete its descent before it could take over. The lowering temperature was palpable in the chilling air. He knew he would need to carry you inside soon, but he waited for the soothing heat of the fire to die down before he would be forced to retreat inside.

Looking at the sky in the far distance, Bucky took in the myriad of changing colours with time. He couldn't help but think about Steve. What Steve would have done if he would have been there. There was no doubt in Bucky's mind that Steve would have ran inside to look for a pencil and paper with the speed of a cheetah.

He would have taken down the various shades on the trees and the mountains and the clouds floating above their heads with the monochromatic beauty of grey and created a masterpiece. Bucky smiled, thinking about the concentrated look Steve would have had in his face, brows furrowed as his eyes would have shifted like at a ping pong game between the sky and the paper. He remembered his days in the military camps with his pal, when the newly bulky man still testing his strength would sketch in any free time he got to deal with the stress he felt.

Bucky...missed his childhood friend very much. He didn't realise when his eyes had moistened when his vision grew blurry.

Not that Sam and you weren't few of the greatest friends he had had, but Steve was... something else. Steve Grant Rogers was his brother, truly so.

Everytime Bucky thought about his pal, his Steve, limitless emotions flew through him, all different for different reasons. One of the most lasting ones though was that gratification. Bucky firmly believed he owed his life to Steve for saving him from the torture he had suffered from the hands of HYDRA. Not once, but twice, in Austria and in D.C., when that fool had nearly died instead of fighting him. Steve had also saved him from the governments of the entire freaking world, trusted in him when nobody else did. Steve had fought with his friends of the twenty first century, his only family, for him. The Golden Boy of America preferred his name being dragged through the mud and being counted in the ranks of the criminals he put behind the bars over losing Bucky. Though he knew it wasn't just for him, Steve had helped resurrect him and all the others when Thanos had snapped them dead. He didn't know how he could ever repay Steve for all that he had done, for all the sacrifices he had made for Bucky.

Out of all those plethora of emotions, one of the few which weighted heavily on him was that of regret. For a man who had lived for over a hundred years, Bucky didn't have the chance to do as many things as he would have liked. Maybe it was because he hadn't lived as much as he had survived, but he didn't let that be the base of his excuses. He had meant to do many things right.

Bucky never thanked his Ma for the man she had raised him to be. He was never there for his sisters when he had promised them he would be. He never properly thanked Steve for saving him time and again. He never thanked Howard for helping Steve save him when he was captured in Austria or for keeping Steve company when he couldn't. He never got to thank Tony for reversing the snap or apologise to him for all that he had done to his parents, Bucky's own friends, while in evil's control.

Bucky had always thought that he would have time; time which he lost partially because he had taken everything for granted, partially because fate had been cruel to him with a vengeance. Life of an Avenger was... unpredictable at the very best. They could be overly cautious, but never fully prepared. Many a times they had to deal with hostage situations or - Bucky still couldn't get used to believing it - alien invasions without a moment's notice.

Bucky had learnt never to take things for granted the hard way. Now that he thought about it, lady luck had never been on his side for long. Everything even remotely good had been taken from him when he thought he had time to enjoy them and bask in their glory.

He didn't want it anymore. Bucky didn't want the guilt weighing him down, knowing he could have done something or said something but didn't, because he thought fate would be kind enough to give him some time.

He didn't want to take chances anymore.

Glancing down, Bucky saw you napping peacefully on his shoulders, really making him a human pillow. Hot puffs of air fell on his neck through your open lips. His heart fluttered in his chest, mentally cooing at how adorable you looked.

He couldn't help but think back to the time he had first met you as himself. His metal arm was trapped in a hydraulic press in some abandoned factory. Both Sam and you had pure disbelief on your faces when Steve trusted Bucky enough to believe his every word...just because he could recall Sarah and how Steve wore his shoes. But then you had gotten to know each other, slowly but surely.

It hadn't been all rainbows and sunshine. The trio of you had had your asses kicked by the spider kid, a literal teenager. You and Sam had been imprisoned in the Raft and had to live a couple years as criminals because you had helped Steve in rescuing him. After Thanos happened, Steve had decided to go on his own journey, leaving Bucky with those who didn't really know him and neither did he know them.

But efforts were made on both the sides. You and Sam had welcomed him into the Avengers like your own. Sure he had been more open and closer to Sam first, but that hadn't deterred from trying to befriend him.

Much like Sam, you had helped him through his night terrors. Been awake with him at odd hours of the night because he couldn't sleep. Helped him discover himself again. Listened to him when he needed an out without any judgement, or talked for the two of you when he wanted to communicate but couldn't. Trusted in him when he didn't even trust himself. Helped him believe in himself and forgive himself. You had helped him recover.

You were with him at the darkest times to guide him to the light, and celebrated with him when he did find his light. There were relapses, but you were with him to help him get back on track.

You had trusted him enough to let him see your vulnerable spots, to confide in him, to let him take care of you, to let him help you just like you had helped him. You had trusted him enough to let him see you, the real you.

But most important of all, you had been a friend before anything else. A friend whom he had needed had needed more than anything else.

Feelings had developed along the way, which he was glad for being reciprocated on both sides. The journey to where you and him were now had been a long one. It had never been easy, but it hadn't affected either of you.

Bucky never wanted to lose you. He couldn't ever possibly lose you. You meant too much to him. He also knew he couldn't dare to think he'd have much time before something akin to Thanos happened again. Being an Avenger guaranteed that nothing was ever guaranteed. Most of all time, in Bucky's case at least.

Looking at you, Bucky realised he couldn't not let you know how he truly felt. No matter what your decision might be afterwards, he had to let you know. He wanted to be his own man, making his own decisions. And he wanted to love you, so goddamn much, if you allowed him. His heart beat faster in realisation when he realised what that would mean. It made him nervous, but he was ready.

The risque wasn't lost on him. He was very well aware that you could run away in the opposite direction, thinking he was going too fast. You could break it off and your friendship wouldn't be the same again. If you wouldn't want to speak to him again, you would respect your wishes.

But if there was even the slightest chance that you felt the same, he needed to do it. Because the bliss of having you, being with you and loving you was worth every risk in the world.

The divider is made by @writeyourmindaway

Chapter 9

Blog’s Main Masterlist || Taglists

Thank you for reading!

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #soft!bucky barnes #soft!bucky barnes x reader #soft!bucky #soft!bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader

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hela-avenger · 4 years

Text

To the Stars Who Listen- Part 4

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1863

Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader

A/N: Since I am surprisingly very ahead in my writing schedule I will be updating Tuesday and Thursdays for the rest of the month! I hope you enjoy this part! Tags are open! (Send me an ask/message/response.)

TTSWL Masterlist

“How do you have your powers?” you ask the moment you find Loki walking the hallways. He makes a sharp turn but you manage to keep up with him. “I thought the ankle monitor was supposed to prevent you from using them so how did you use them yesterday?”

Loki’s pace quickens and you huff in annoyance. His long legs allowed long strides which left you at a disadvantage. You made up for the increasing distance by practically jogging to remain by his side.

“Come on tell me.”

You grab a hold of his wrist forcing Loki to look at you. Something ignites within you as you stared into his eyes. You could feel the answer to your question at the tip of your tongue. It was brushing against your mind in a teasing manner.

Loki takes immediate notice of the manic glint in your eyes and is quick to tear himself away from your trance.

“Stop that,” he snaps. “Do you have any idea of what you’re doing?”

That seems to really break you as you shake your head from the haze it was pulled into. You frown and take a step back.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”

You stumble back from him blind to the mail cart that was coming your way. Loki barely manages to see it when it hits you right on your hip sending you crashing down to the ground.

“Y/N!”

The distracted intern is quick to pull their headphones out muttering a string of apologies. You don’t pay them any mind as you felt an intensity start to grow throughout your body.

“I’m so sorry Agent Y/N. I didn’t see you cause I was strolling Instagram on my phone because this job gets so boring sometimes. I am really sorry though! I really need the money so please, please, please don’t report me to…”

The intern helps you up and you find yourself lured by the confessions that are falling from their lips.

“Keep going,” you tell them. “Tell me everything.”

“Not another word,” Loki exclaims at the intern before pulling you away. “Now go!”

Loki then turns to you.

“Stop and gain control of yourself.”

“I want to hear the truth and you have eagerly taken their place.”

You pull all that power inside you and haul it into your hands. You take up the lapels of his suit and slam him into the nearby wall.

“Speak the truth.”

Loki is rightfully surprised by the sudden strength you displayed at the moment.

“Your powers have certainly grown since last night.”

The words manage to stir you but not enough to gain full control.

“Why am I-” you scowl as you notice the position you’re in. You feel like your brain is made of cotton as you tried to make sense of the last few minutes. “Ugh, I can feel it everywhere. It’s pulsing through my mind pulling me deeper inside.”

Loki can feel your hands shake but they did not release him.

“Nat told me everything. You promised to train me. You promised to teach me control because if I didn’t… I could die.”

You look up pleading at him for help.

“Please, do something,” you whisper. “I can feel it burning.”

Loki takes a hold of your wrists not needing to pull on his seidr to look for yours. It was pulsing lively right at the tips of your fingers.

“You want to know how I unlocked your handcuffs with a snap of my fingers?” Loki asks. “You want to know how I got an ounce of my power back?”

Eager to know the truth, you nod.

“Like this.”

You watch as his hands begin to feel warm on your skin.

“I’m siphoning a bit of your power to myself,” Loki explains. “I can’t take much because of the monitor, but it is enough to be able to do trivial things like unlock doors and handcuffs.”

He releases you but you can still feel it pulsing through your veins.

“It’s still too much.”

No confession of any kind could sate the power within you. The power had grown enough to desire a physical outlet.

“Hit me,” Loki offers.

“What?” you exclaim in surprise.

“Hit me.”

Your hands are now itching for the violence but Loki didn’t deserve it. Even if he was asking for it.

“I am the God of Lies,” Loki continues. “They call me Silvertongue for the way I can spin stories that will make you even doubt the truth you just told. I am everything you despise. So… hit me.”

The burning in your veins intensifies and you are quick to release him just so you could slam your hands to the wall beside him. Loki is trapped between you and the wall but he’s well aware of the damage you’ve inflicted.

The wall cracks and splinters reaching the ceiling which then causes some flakes of plaster to snow down onto you both.

You feel light.

You can breathe freely now and your thoughts are clear and concise.

Loki watches as you return to yourself. The power quickly retreating after having its needs met. You look defeated as you warily look up at him.

“I’m really dangerous, aren’t I?”

Loki simply pulls your hands away from the wall holding them in his own.

“You were always dangerous,” Loki states. “We all are.”

“But I could really hurt someone now,” you argue. “Just look at the wall!”

Loki doesn’t need to because he felt the strong pulse himself.

“I thought we had a few more days but your powers have grown exponentially since I last saw you. For that misconception, I apologize.”

“So what do we do now?”

The answer to your questions comes from an unexpected source.

“Stark will like to see you both in the conference room.”

Tony, Steve, and Thor are the ones waiting for you in the conference room. They all shared a grim expression which did nothing to ease your nerves. You look up at the screen that Tony has up that displayed the image of you, Loki, and the cracked wall.

Loki casually takes a seat at the table but you can’t bother to do the same.

“So you know.”

“FRIDAY made me aware of the situation,” Tony states as he waves the screen away. “You lost control.”

“Yeah, well I’ll pay for the damages,” you answer. “And I should probably apologize to the intern…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony interrupts. “I’ll handle everything.”

Tony looks over at Steve and nods for him to jump in.

“We’ve all discussed it and thought it would be best for you to be relocated to the uptown Avengers Facility. You’ll be safe and have ample space to practice and gain control of your powers.”

“I’ll also be away from everyone,” you point out.

“For your safety,” Steve reassures.

“And for theirs,” you state with a heavy sigh. “Ok, that’s… that’s a smart decision.”

Loki rolls his eyes at your submissiveness. He raises his hand to warrant their attention which he’s quick to receive.

“What does that mean for me?” he asks. “I am meant to train her.”

“We know,” Thor steps in. “And it has been decided that you will be moved alongside with Y/N to continue her training. You will be restrained with the same rules but you will be free to move anywhere around the property there. I think you will enjoy it, brother.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Loki mutters as he leans back in his chair. “When do we leave?”

“Tonight,” Steve answers.

“And just before you get any ideas,” Tony asserts with a glare in Loki’s direction. “The standby Avengers are currently residing there and they are well aware to keep an eye on you. So if you step out of line, you’ll be sent back here and locked into your room and your room alone.”

“The threats are completely unnecessary,” Loki chuckles. “I already gave my word I would help.”

“He’s right,” Thor agrees after his brother. “As long as it benefits him, Loki will do as told.”

Steve nods believing him while Tony remains suspicious. He glared at Loki waiting for the fallen prince to break.

Loki didn’t.

“As entertaining this staring match is, can I please have the room?” you ask them. “I just… I just need to clear my head of some things.”

“Of course,” Steve nods. “Be ready by 7. I’ll fly you guys out there.”

“Lovely,” Loki comments as he starts to rise from his seat. You’re quick to grab a hold of him and motion for him to remain in his spot.

“Stay,” you ask him. “I have some questions for you.”

You ignore the shared look of concern between your teammates as you focused on Loki alone. They filter out of the room with hesitation but don’t offer a comment. The moment they leave the room you take the seat next to Loki and speak.

“I know we’re not friends, I know you don’t owe me anything, and I also know you’re only doing this to gain your freedom from that ankle monitor but can you please be honest with me?”

Loki notes how tired you look now. It was something he had never seen in you before which was making him act in a similar manner, promising something he rarely does.

“I’ll be honest.”

Sensing that he spoke true, you ask the question that has been bothering you since this whole thing began.

“Why me?” you ask. “Why do I have this power? Why am I cursed with it? It makes me cruel and vindictive and I hate it. Why me?”

“I don’t know why it chose you,” Loki answers. “But it only further confirms that you are truly special if it didn’t kill you. As for your supposed curse, this power is simply trying to protect itself. You’ve been attacked twice now which is when this cruel alter ego of yours arises. The moment you gain control these incidents will no longer occur.”

You run your hand through your hair unhappy with his answer.

“So how are you going to teach me control?” I ask him. “You said it yourself. You’re the God of Lies. What do you know about the power of Truth?”

“I, out of everyone, should know the extent power of the Truth,” Loki states. “If I didn’t, then how would I comprehend my own gift of lies.”

You seem displeased at his response.

“Without the truth, lies wouldn’t exist,” he continues. “We are two very necessary sides needed for balance.”

“I’m just human and you’re a God,” you remind him. “This delicate balance is off.”

Loki reaches for your hand surprising himself with the act. He wonders if this was your doing again. Your power making him act on his empathetic emotions that he rarely paid attention to.

“You will gain control of your powers,” Loki states. “And when you do, it won’t matter if you’re human and I’m a God because you might find yourself even stronger than I.”

You find yourself surprised when you notice that the words he’s spoken are completely true.

TTSWL Tag: @catsladen @is-it-madness @manyfandoms-marvel @mejusttryintogetby @illogicalfangirl @ariel-snow-tmnt @islinglivesinshire @musicconversedance @missmadwoman @smaranshakthi @adaydreamingdragon @poetic-fiasco @like-a-wildfire @jasminecalia @ha-tep @charbokbok @setsuna-meiou31 @ms-blvck @country-cowgirl-101 @bepo-is-sorry

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-nightshade @aoirohi @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @just-a-donut-who-reads @day-dreaming-fox

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @ariel-snow-tmnt @badhollandfluff @what-a-flammable-heart

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

Note

oooo can i request a drabble for that one post you made about the captured hero and the malicious villain because i want that if you have the time or inspiration. thanks :D

I ended up writing this one twice because I wasn't satisfied with the first, but here we are! Thanks for the request anon!

Add. tag: (@whatwhumpcomments )

Heed tags! Nothing too serious but just to be safe <3

******

Heels. Hero hated the sound of heels. Usually, he could tell what mood Villainess was in by how loud and precise the steps were. This time was different.

The steps were sharper, which typically meant she was determined, but this sound was different. It sounds...hollow. What did that mean? He didn't know, and there wasn't anything he could do to find out, seeing as he was shackled against the wall, except wait until she opened the door- which she did.

White light flooded into the room, and Hero had the sense to close his eyes immediately after he heard the lock of the door click. He let his vision adjust beneath his eyelids before opening them. Not without a couple of claws digging around in his stomach.

It happened- his body's discomfort- every time he acknowledged Villainess was in the same building as him. And when she was in the same room as him- when Hero could see her- his throat swelled like it was trying to keep down the stomach acid he knew his body was trying to toss.

Watching her step in now, Hero had to suppress the whine in his throat. He felt so pathetic, felt like a puppy dog begging for attention. Only, attention was the last thing Hero wanted- because attention was a code word for pain.

Villainess hummed. "What say you we do today?"

Hero only swallowed and screwed his eyes shut. The mere image of Villainess sent him into flurries of panic, and oftentimes begging. Instead, he hyper-focused on any amount of wrath he felt. Hero thoughts of his friends- his team. He wanted to return to them so badly, but his wishful thinking didn't last.

"Come on. Pipe up!" Villainess screeched. "I'm in a good mood today!"

Which is exactly why I'm not. The thought wasn't quipy, not at all. Hero imagined his voice being dreadfully tired; it's how he felt.

"You haven't asked why I'm dressed up."

Hero had noticed the stilettos, and even acknowledged that that was why Villainess' steps had been so much more piercing than usual. Most times she wore clacky boots. Not today.

"I have a banquet to attend to. I'm hostess, actually."

The hero groaned, waiting and waiting for Villainous to do something, anything. The anticipation was worse than the torture itself- so he liked to think.

"Bored, are you? Then how about you tell me what we're doing today?"

He shook his head, eyes still closed. Why did she always try to make him choose how she would torment him? It was cruel, and entirely undeserved. "May-maybe you should just- should get ready for your-"

"What do you think I'm doing now?" Hero looked up, only to see Villainess' mouth lift at either corner.

Don't tell me-

"You are going to the banquet, too. Only," She gripped his pretty chin, tilting it to either side. Villainess hummed. "Did you ever watch Beauty and the Beast?" She waited, but when Hero delivered a continued silence, she demanded an answer, to which he nodded. "Good. Then my little rose will be familiar with his glass cage."

Hero swallowed, tried to pull his head away from her hand, but she followed him in whatever limited space he had. "Is that it then? I'm just going to be on display?" His voice was hopeful, but still shaky. Hero doubted it would be that easy. And he was right.

Villainess' hand finally slid away from her captive's chin, but slid to his shoulder. She picked an invisible fleck off the shoulder of his tattered shirt. "I wish I could mend clothes like I did your skin." Hero shuddered at his too many memories of sliced skin. Villainess was a healer. Any prick, scratch, or mortal wound could be repaired to extraordinary health in a snap. Or she could take her time. It depended on her mood most days.

"But maybe not. I do like your skin. It'd be a shame to always have it covered in cloth." Villainess ran her hand across the holes of Hero's shirt. Her eyes lit up as she saw the goosebumps riddling his flesh. "You know what I'll do?" She took several steps backwards, eyeing Hero like he was bait. Villainess giggled. "I'll write the names of your friends on your arms after I rip the sleeves off."

Hero squinted at his tormentor. "You'll write them?" He tried not to think of what their names meant, or rather what Villainess would intend for them to mean. Instead of seeing their names and thinking of himself as a failure for being caught, he would see himself as- as a distraction. Yeah, that was it. Hero was a distraction. Because as long as Villainess was focused on him, she wouldn't bother trying to find the others.

"Not with ink, silly."

How many times had Hero swallowed since Villainess stepped in today? "With wha- how are you-"

"Well first I'll need a cutting tool. How do you feel about scalpels? I find them to be very convenient." Villainess sighed and let her hand fall from the hero's body. "So much work, so little time. You know your one friend has an eleven letter name? Ridiculous. I'm not even sure I can pronounce it."

Hero grunted. He didn't know if he could handle another day of torture. Every day was the same. Every day, Villainess came in and scraped him down to the bone, or raggedly cut patches of his hair off- oftentimes ticking off pieces of his scalp, or any other amount of physical tortures. "I don't- Please. I can't-"

Villainess stopped, faced her precious prize again. "Well, go on, then."

The worst thing about the villainess having the ability to heal was that nearly everything about her was perfect. If anything became askew- like a broken nose- she could fix it. Even worse, she could make it straighter than it ever was before.

Her ability meant that her teeth, as wolfish as they were, were perfectly straight, perfectly polished, and perfectly spine-chilling.

"If you can't handle it, then try to escape."

For the first time since he'd been captured, Hero snarled. And he did yank at his restraints. The metal holding him to the wall bit against his wrists. His elbows were thrown forward, but otherwise, he hardly moved at all.

He spat, "They'll come for me. They'll come, and they'll kill you before freeing me." Hero hated the way his stomach twisted further as Villainess' smile fell into a straight line. No doubt she was still amused, but whatever was about to happen, it was serious, and Hero didn't know how to prepare for it.

Villainess began the tiny trek back to her captive, eventually leaning into Hero and placing her elbows on his arms- keeping them pinned to the wall. She chuckled, pressing a finger against his lips. Surprised he wasn't biting, she told him in a delicate whisper, "They are dead. Just like I am myself in your dreams." Villainess didn't give him time to bite. She moved her hand from Hero's lips to his chin, grasping it between her slender, witchy fingers, and then throwing his head to the side. Villainess put her weight on a single heel before spinning her back to Hero and walking out, hollering before she shut the door, "I'll be back with my equipment in just a moment, love."

The door shut, and all Hero could do was listen as her footsteps retreated, only to hear them come back again. It couldn't be true, could it? That his team was dead? But then why else would Villainess keep him alive?

She wants a trophy to present. And if the rest of the heroes were dead, Hero was the only thing left to show. Villainess would keep him forever just to remind him- and everyone else- that she'd won.

******

If you liked this, consider buying me a coffee? :D

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