#Captain x Bombshell

[ghouljams]

Witch does some magic, Fae!Price remembers why witches are so dangerous

this is a longer one(1.4k words), dealing with a lot of spell work, and mostly OC stuff.

One of your friends is laying on your kitchen table. Arms folded to cushion their head, half asleep as you scrub their back with salt. You already washed the table down, chalked your largest circle on the floor, made sure your herbs were prepped. You really don’t know why you keep doing this to yourself. You let your eyes wander to look out your back door, peaking across your garden to your back gate.

“I can come back if you’re waiting on someone,” You friend mumbles, you shake your head. You grab a washcloth and dip it in the copper bowl of new moon water to rinse the salt off their back.

“You’re fine, I want to get this done today.” They hum, sitting up enough to finish their last swallow of tea before passing you the mug.

“You’re always so serious about this.”

“You pay me to be serious about it.” You step out of the circle to put their drained mug in the sink and finish your own. Hyssop tea isn’t your favorite but better safe than sorry. You grab another copper bowl and a small sachet from your cupboard. Another hum from your friend. “Where’d you get the baby ginger?” You ask, removing the small humanoid root from its sachet and placing it in the new bowl.

“Trade secret,” You try not to think too hard about it. There are a lot of things about your friend you try not to think too hard about. “Figure that should be enough to mix a few sessions worth of ash.”

You nod, casting another glance out your back door. You need it open for the sun, for the tie to summer to keep the room warm, but you also need your garden free of distractions. You twist open the jars you’d pulled. Morning Glory, Comfrey, Angelica, Marjoram, Ginger, fuck what are you missing?

“Ruda.” Your friend tells you, their eyes closed peacefully.

“You hate Ruda.” You leave the circle again to grab the herb. It feels like you’ve got everything but the kitchen sink in this bowl.

“The dragon’s blood will cover it,” You pause, at the edge of the circle, stomach twisting, “I can smell it.” Your fingers tighten on your jar, you hate when they do this, talk to you like they know what you’re thinking. Especially when they know better. You step over the chalk circle and deposit a few pieces of ruda in the bowl. You’re quick to strike a match and light the mixture, letting it burn down as you center yourself.

The sound of the wind rustling through the trees, the light herbal small of your garden, the warmth of summer, you do your best to keep your focus on the earth. Stable. Grounded. Your herbs crackle as they burn, the smoke finding its way out your back door, hardly bothering to be contained by your circle. Your house is silent, your fingers are warm and buzzing with potential.

Everything is easier after this, or faster. Magic always seems faster once you set it free to run. You mix the herbal ash with a little alcohol and some chips of dragon’s blood resin to make ink. You clean your needles and set your intention. You trace the patterns already on your friend’s skin and find the breaks that need to be mended, and snap on some gloves.

You poke new lines of honeycomb across their shoulder. Dip your needle in the ink and fix the pentacle on their spine, the salt, the concentric circles. Hyssop, lavender, parsley, you sink comfortably into your work tattooing herbs and wards. You mind is clear, present and gone at the same time. It’s comfortable here. Your friend sleeps as you work, not even twitching as you wipe at the ink. 

You don’t think of it as what it is. Blood magic. Magic you shouldn’t be doing, wouldn’t be doing if it was anyone but them. Magic made just for this singular person, just for their needs. You mumble to yourself as you work, watching the pentacles turn, the sword glint. The honeycomb drips onto the lavender making you wipe at it to check that your lines are all connected. It’s complicated magic, a spell you’ve been weaving and maintaining for years. You trace your fingers around the unbroken ring at the center, the dark abyssal black that fills it. The sink.

You pull back and inspect your work, roll your shoulders, check the time. You pat your friend’s shoulder to wake them up before spraying the fresh tattoo with green soap. They groan and stretch out over your table.

“Feels like a fucking rock on my back.” They grumble. You hum, cleaning your work station to give them room to sit up.

“Gotta charge it, that’s what the sun’s for.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.” You help them up, careful to avoid breaking the circle or knocking over any of your herbs. They wave you off as they exit your house to your garden, sinking onto the little stool you’d set out. You hover close by, just to be sure they don’t faint. It’s happened before. You glance at the gate when they do, feeling your stomach flip when you catch sight of Price watching you.

Your friend waves you off, shooing you towards your distraction. It’s good you didn’t notice him sooner, it might have broken your concentration. The last thing you need is for a spell this intricate to backfire.

“You have a client,” Price nods at your friend, you don’t bother looking back at them, sure they’re enjoying the sun.

“You haven’t been around in a while,” You counter. Wincing a little at yourself. Truth for a truth. Though one is more an embarrassing acknowledgement that you noticed his absence. Price smiles at that before covering his mouth, trying to spare a little of your pride.

“Did you miss me?”

“No.” You say quickly. He nods, it’s cute the way you lie to him. “Did you need something?”

“Just wanted to check up on you,” He tells you, you raise a brow, clearly not buying it. The “and” that should follow that statement hangs in the air between you. He’s not impolite enough to impose himself on your hospitality when you have another guest. Especially not when you’re working.

It’s strange though, if he hadn’t seen you bringing your client out, he might not have noticed them at all. They look human, but.

But they don’t smell like anything. They don’t have any presence at all. You smell like burnt herbs, ink, residual magic falls off of you and threads through his. It’s terribly distracting. You’re always distracting. Enough to keep his attention off of whatever is in your garden.

“Well, here I am. No need to drop by just to see me.” Price respectfully begs to differ. He has every reason to see you. Your sincerity in the statement doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I thought you didn’t deal with creditors.” Price leans away from the threshold as you turn to talk to your client. He hadn’t even registered their presence.

“Go wait in the house if you’re all charged,” You tell them quietly. Charged. Price knows that term, what were you charging? The whole person? Your client shrugs and turns back towards the house.

Price’s stomach rolls, and he has to stop himself from taking a step back. Fae trap. The blossoming tattoo on their back hums and moves, alive with captured and contained magic. A seal on the client’s presence, a ward, a living hex breaker, all wild fed magic channeled through your spell work. Not human, just disguised as one. He can feel the hooks spinning off of them now that he knows what to look for. The fae itself doesn’t seem too dangerous, but the spell on their back...

You look up at him so innocently. Sweet as can be, waiting for him to take his eyes off your retreating client. “It’s good, right?” You ask, and he knows exactly what you’re asking. Knows that you know exactly what you’ve created.

You laugh, and wave your hand, “Not a chance, too much upkeep. I’d burn through the ink faster than they do.”

“Bloody hell,” Price swears, unsure what else to say to dislodge the knot his stomach has twisted itself into, "So you let a hunter in but not me?

"Hunters are stupid," you look over your shoulder towards the house, "think with their stomachs, easier to guard against. You on the other hand..." You look back at him, it's clearly a compliment, not one you're willing to say aloud, but he'll take it.

“You don’t have one of those on you, do you?” Price asks, a mixture of pride and apprehension rising in his throat.

#oc: witch #warning do not do blood magic at home or on anyone else #this is a closed course with professionals #woah who is that walking (actual) bombshell? #Price doesnt stick around long since Witch has to finish with her friend #but hes also happy to get the hell out of there #captain john price #john price x reader #fae!Price #i was like do i wanna post this its a lot of OC work? but then i remembered its my blog and i can do what i want #also because this friend is important and i feel like they need a little preview #stupid hunters: ghost and König and lowkey Soap

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Sky High.

(pilot!harry x airhostess!yn)

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here x

in which, your an airhostess for british airways, and harry’s been a pilot for british airways for the last four years, and your both working on the same a380 to the big apple.

word count - 2.8k

"So, which lucky city are you off to today?"

Cabin crew had always been a passion of yours since you were a child.

When you were young, you used to adore gazing at the impeccably dressed flight attendants as they moved gracefully through the aisles of the plane. That longing to be among them, to embody the essence of professionalism and hospitality, never wavered, even as you grew older.

So when you turned eighteen, and were fresh out of college, you signed up for flight attendant school and not once have you looked back.

The course took ten weeks and they were the best of your life, because at the end of it, you gained your wings and was ready to fly.

That was when you met Samia, your bestest friend, the two of you were in the same cabin crew training classes and had practically been inseparable ever since, it was a friendship that was made to last.

You and Samia make your way through the bustling terminal of Manchester Airport, where families were executed to finally have a nice holiday that they had waited all year for and people who were solo-travellers ready to embark on a boring old work trip.

With a grin, you respond, "New York, simply feels like forever since I’ve been there.”

Samia feigns a dramatic sigh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ugh, why do you get all the fun flights? I'm just headed to Dublin."

You chuckle at her mock disappointment. "Hey, Dublin's pretty great too!”

She rolls her eyes playfully. "I guess you're right. But next time, I'm definitely snagging that New York flight!"

You nudge her teasingly. "Deal!

As you and Samia continue your leisurely stroll through the bustling terminal of Manchester Airport, she suddenly stops in her tracks, a perplexed expression crossing her face.

"Wait, did you say you're heading to New York?" she asks, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

You nod in confirmation, a smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I've got a three-day layover there before heading back. Why? What's up?"

Samia's eyes light up mischievously as she leans in closer. "You know who the pilot is, right?"

You shake your head, curious about her sudden intrigue. "No, who is it?"

With a smug look on her face, Samia leans back, relishing the moment before dropping the bombshell.

"Captain Styles," she says, her voice laced with amusement.

Just like that, your eyes widen.

The dim lights of the party cast a warm glow over the room as chatter and laughter filled the air. You stood at the bar, holding an almost empty drink, observing the festivities around you. It was a celebration for the graduating pilots and cabin crew, and the excitement was palpable.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the noise, and you turned to see a handsome young man approaching you. His brunette hair had a slight curl to it, and he wore an open t-shirt with only the bottom buttons done up, showcasing his tattoos along his chest and right arm. He flashed you a charming smile that set your heart racing.

"Hey," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "M’Harry. Can I get you another drink?"

His flirty demeanor caught you off guard, but you couldn't help but be intrigued by his confidence and his striking appearance.

With a smile, you accepted his offer. "Sure, that would be great. Thanks."

As he ordered the drinks, Harry leaned in closer, his playful banter making your heart flutter. "So, what brings you to this party? Celebrating y’graduation as well?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement at his attention. "Yeah, I just finished my cabin crew training. It's been quite the journey."

Harry nodded, his gaze lingering on you. "Well, congratulations. Y’must be excited to start flying high."

You chuckled at his pun, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his flirtatious remarks. "Thanks. And what about you? Are you one of the graduating pilots?"

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Guilty as charged. But tonight, M’more interested in getting to know you."

As the night wore on, the energy of the party only seemed to intensify, fueled by the pulsating rhythm of the music and the electric chemistry between you and Harry.

With each exchange, the attraction between you grew stronger, igniting a fiery passion that neither of you could ignore.

Before you knew it, the party had come to an end, and Harry suggested continuing the festivities at his place. Eager for more time together, you eagerly agreed, your heart racing with anticipation as you made your way to his doorstep.

As Harry fumbled with his keys, his lips found yours in a heated kiss, igniting a firestorm of desire that burned hotter with each passing second. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating embrace, the hunger for each other driving you forward.

Finally, the door swung open, and Harry pulled you inside, the heat between you reaching a fever pitch. With a sense of urgency, you stumbled into his apartment, the desire to be close to him consuming every fiber of your being.

And as the door closed behind you, the outside world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you entwined in a passionate embrace, lost in a whirlwind of desire and longing.

As you approach your gate, you come to a halt, a wave of anticipation washing over you. Turning to Samia, you give her a final hug, the warmth of her embrace a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

"I'll see you soon," you say, your voice tinged with both longing and determination.

Samia returns the hug with equal fervor, her support unwavering.

"Text me when you land, just so i know that you got there safely." she tells you you, her words a comforting reminder of your shared journey and the strength you draw from each other.

"Take care up there, and don't forget to enjoy New York," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of excitement. “You deserve it.”

During the embrace, your gaze drifts past Samia, and that's when you spot him. Captain Styles, striding confidently towards the gate, his navy blue pilot uniform impeccable, a pair of sunglasses shielding his eyes from the fluorescent airport lights.

The women around him stare in awe, admiration evident in their eyes as they admire his striking looks and commanding presence.

As Captain Styles catches your eye amidst the throng of admirers, a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallow harshly, feeling a sudden rush of nerves at his knowing gaze, his presence commanding attention even in the midst of the bustling airport terminal.

As you bid farewell to Samia and take a step towards the bridge leading to the plane, your heart pounds with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation.

Captain Styles stands nearby, engrossed in conversation with the gate control personnel, his commanding presence unmistakable even from a distance.

As you approach the bridge, you catch Captain Styles' eye, and he immediately breaks off his conversation, his gaze fixed on you as he strides towards you with purpose.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't m’favorite cabin crew member," he says with a playful grin, his tone laced with flirtation.

You can't help but return his smile, the familiar spark between you reigniting with each step closer.

Ever since that night you spent together four years ago, the two of you have sort of started an arrangement, when one of you needs the other your there and vice versa.

But your feelings grew above just meaningless hookups.

His as far as you were concerned didn’t.

"Captain Styles, always a pleasure," you reply, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

He falls into step beside you, his presence magnetic as he matches your stride.

"So, headed to the Big Apple, are we?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You nod, a surge of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of flying to New York with Captain Styles as your pilot.

"Yep, three days of layover in the city that never sleeps," you say, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

Captain Styles chuckles, his charm on full display as he leans in closer, his voice low and intimate.

"Well, if you need a tour guide while you're there, y’know where t’find me," he says with a wink, his flirtatious demeanor sending a thrill down your spine.

You play along, matching his flirtatious energy with a playful smirk of your own.

"I might just take you up on that offer," you tease, the familiarity between you sparking with every word exchanged.

As you reach the entrance to the bridge, Captain Styles stops, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of intensity and longing.

"Until we meet again, m’cloud member," he says, his voice husky with promise.

You meet his gaze, the unspoken understanding between you hanging heavy in the air.

"Until next time," you reply, your heart racing with anticipation as you step onto the bridge and make your way towards the plane.

Standing at the entrance of the plane, you greet passengers with a warm smile as they board, checking their tickets with practiced efficiency.

Beside you stands Suzie, a petite blonde cabin crew member from France, her cheerful demeanor adding to the welcoming atmosphere of the aircraft.

"Bonjour! Welcome aboard," Suzie chirps in her melodious French accent, her eyes sparkling with genuine hospitality as she assists passengers with their carry-on luggage.

You nod in agreement, echoing her sentiments with a friendly greeting of your own.

"Welcome aboard, ladies and gentlemen. If you could please have your tickets ready, we'll get you settled in no time," you say, your voice projecting confidence and professionalism.

As passengers file past, you and Suzie work in tandem, ensuring a smooth and efficient boarding process. You exchange glances and quick smiles as you assist travelers with finding their seats and stowing their belongings in the overhead compartments.

"Next please," you say, gesturing for the next passenger to approach, your attention fully focused on providing top-notch service to everyone boarding the aircraft.

Suzie chimes in, her cheerful demeanor infectious as she assists an elderly couple with finding their seats.

"Right this way, monsieur et madame. Allow me to help you with your bags," she says, her gentle touch earning her grateful smiles from the passengers.

As the last few passengers board the plane, you and Suzie share a brief moment of camaraderie, a silent acknowledgment of a job well done.

As the final passengers settle into their seats and fasten their seatbelts, you and the rest of the cabin crew begin to make your way down the aisle, ensuring that everyone is safely secured for takeoff. With practiced ease, you exchange reassuring smiles and nods with passengers as you pass, checking seatbelts and offering assistance where needed.

Once you confirm that all passengers are securely strapped in, you make your way to the front of the cabin, ready to perform the mandatory safety demonstration. Standing in the aisle, you and the other cabin crew members demonstrate the proper use of seatbelts, oxygen masks, and life vests, your movements fluid and precise as you emphasize the importance of safety during the flight.

As the plane taxis towards the runway, you continue the safety demonstration, pointing out the locations of emergency exits and demonstrating the brace position in case of an emergency landing. Your voice is calm and reassuring, your demeanor projecting confidence and competence to the passengers seated before you.

Three hours into the flight, you find yourself in the crew mess area, diligently preparing warm nuts for the passengers as part of the in-flight service. The gentle hum of the aircraft fills the air, a comforting backdrop to the routine tasks at hand.

Suddenly, the sound of the call button interrupts the steady rhythm, prompting you to glance up from your task.

With a quick exchange of glances with your fellow cabin crew members, you make your way towards the source of the signal, ready to assist the passenger in need.

Approaching the row where the call button was activated, you find a mother and her little girl, the child looking pale and visibly uncomfortable.

Concern washes over you as you inquire, "Is everything okay? How can I assist you?"

The mother looks relieved at your arrival, her voice tinged with urgency. "My daughter isn't feeling well. Do you have a sick bag?"

You nod empathetically, understanding the urgency of the situation.

"Of course, let me grab one for you right away," you assure her, before swiftly making your way back to the crew mess to retrieve a sick bag.

Returning to the passenger's row with the sick bag in hand, you offer it to the mother with a sympathetic smile.

"Here you go. I hope this helps. Is there anything else I can do to assist you and your daughter?"

The mother gratefully accepts the sick bag, her expression conveying a mix of relief and gratitude.

"Thank you so much. This should do the trick. We'll let you know if we need anything else," she says, her voice soft with appreciation.

You nod, reassuring her that you're available should they require any further assistance.

Just under four hours into the flight, you find yourself tasked with delivering the pre-ordered meals to the cockpit crew. Carrying a tray with their dinner selections, you make your way to the front of the aircraft, where the cockpit door awaits.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you knock lightly on the door before pushing it open, revealing the familiar sight of Captain Harry and First Officer Max at the controls.

"Dinner delivery," you announce with a smile, stepping into the cockpit.

Harry looks up from the control panel, his eyes lighting up as he sees you. "Ah, if it isn’t the queen of the clouds herself," he says, his tone playful yet subtly flirtatious.

Suppressing a smile, you approach him with the tray, presenting him with his sushi and a glass of apple juice.

"Here you go, Captain Styles. Enjoy your meal," you say, your voice steady despite the flutter of excitement in your chest.

You bend down in front of the captain, knowing that it will simply drive him crazy, and because we’ll….your a little tease, your skirt isn’t that short, because it’s not aloud to be but it certainly does the trick, because you softly hear him take a small intake of breath which has you trying to surpress your smile.

You then stand back to a normal height and give the first officer his choice of food for the night.

Max looks up from his own console, offering you a polite nod of acknowledgment.

"Thank you," he says, his tone professional as he accepts his lasagna and a glass of milk.

You return his nod with a polite smile, acknowledging his presence before turning your attention back to Harry.

"Is there anything else I can assist you with, Captain?" you inquire, trying to keep the conversation light and professional despite the underlying tension between you.

Harry's gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I don’t think there is no." he replies, his tone teasing yet filled with underlying sincerity.

As you turn to leave the cockpit, you catch Harry's gaze and offer a sheepish smile.

"I should probably go wash my hands," you say, feeling a sudden need to break the tension in the air.

Harry chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

"Of course, can't have our cabin crew getting their hands dirty," he teases, his tone light yet tinged with a hint of flirtation.

You laugh along with him, grateful for the playful banter that eases the atmosphere.

"Exactly," you reply, eager to retreat from the intimate confines of the cockpit before things become too heated.

You make your way towards the bathroom as you had initially intended. Pushing open the door, you step inside, grateful for the momentary solitude the confined space offers.

Turning on the tap, you let the water flow over your hands, the cool sensation refreshing as you lather them with soap. With practiced efficiency, you scrub your hands clean, ensuring every trace of dirt and germs is washed away.

Once satisfied with the cleanliness of your hands, you rinse off the soap and reach for a paper towel to dry them.

As you pat your hands dry, you take a moment to glance at your reflection in the mirror, adjusting your uniform and smoothing down any stray hairs that may have escaped your notice.

As you are preparing to leave the bathroom, the sound of the door opening behind you catches your attention, causing a slight flutter of nerves to rise in your stomach.

Without turning around, you sense someone entering the small space, their presence filling the air with an unspoken tension.

Gulping nervously, you finally muster the courage to turn and make eye contact with the newcomer.

The sight of the familiar uniform and the commanding aura that surrounds them leaves you momentarily speechless, your heart pounding in your chest.

You swallow heavily.

“Hello, Captain.”

#musicforastylesrestaurant #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fake ig #harry styles headcanon #pilot!harry #harry styles x oc #harrystylesdrabble #harry styles fake social media #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harrystylesxreader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #harry’s house #harrystylesxyn #dad!harry #dadrry

[ode2rin]

your tequila lips is my idea of luxury

pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader

genre. fluff & university/college rom :D 

warnings/content. 4.1k+ wc | soccer team captain!reo (giggles) | mentions of alcohol, drinking, and drunken state | public kissing (don’t ask) | minimal proofread | me and my poor attempt of banter

in which: last night left you with three hazy memories — a dare, a kiss, and the name reo mikage

If college has managed to drill one thing into your head, it’s the gospel of abstaining from weekday drinking. After all, who in their right mind willingly marches to class with a pounding headache? Certainly not you.

But if there’s also one thing college didn't prepare you for, that is ignoring that one advice it drilled into you, and the golden rule of never, ever going against your own wisdom. 

If it did, then maybe you wouldn’t find yourself seated at the table of your kitchen dorm, your elbows resting heavily on its surface and your hands cradling your throbbing head, with your fingers pressed against your temples in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pounding sensation that is making you feel like it’s your last day on earth.

And to add a splash of more chaos to the mix, you feel like your headache intensified by tenfold at the absurdity of what your roommate just told you.

“I did fucking what now?”

“You kissed Reo at the party last night! Reo freaking Mikage!”

Yup, it’s definitely your last day on earth.

“ —and we squealed so loud! We never thought you had it in you to pull shit like that!” 

Well, you didn’t either.

“Hold on, talk slowly! I kissed him?!” 

Furrowing your brows, you attempt to process the bombshell your roommate just dropped on you. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot what happened last night!”

To say that your roommate did a poor job of filling you in on what atrocity happened last night is an understatement. The only thing you managed to register from the weirdly sequenced story were two things: kiss and Reo. 

And from there, the memories of last night came rushing back to you. 

Fucking hell.

You are damned, no doubt. Of all people, it had to be Reo Mikage. Are you even allowed to say that name so casually, even in your mind? That name drips gold and glory in every letter. He’s probably the richest guy on campus, the most famous (for sure), and on top of that, he’s the captain of the goddamn soccer team. Talk about a boring and plain college life he’s living. 

And to kiss that said man in a party for a dare? You’re doomed. You’re done for. You did the worst thing imaginable. 

You should’ve known better that nothing good comes out of college parties and dumb drinking games.

You made a lot of questionable decisions in your life, that you admit. But this one probably takes the top spot.

And it all started innocently enough – with a dare. 

The kind of dare that only seems like a great idea after a few too many shots. You had been the reigning champion of beer pong for as long as you could remember, and your friends decided it was high time to knock you down a peg. The stakes were set: a dare for a dare, and you were handed the ultimatum. Win the game or face the consequences.

But as fate would have it, your well-practiced skills crumbled under the pressure, and you found yourself facing the ultimate punishment—eight shots of tequila, back-to-back, in quick succession. 

Under typical circumstances, you could easily handle that quantity, but regular situations don't account for having a crucial presentation the following day. Eight shots? It's a nightmare, considering you've reached your limit.

And so, you found yourself stumbling through the crowd with only one goal in mind: redemption.

Or maybe it was the tequila that whispered that goal into your ear, urging you to prove yourself. It was hard to tell. 

And in that hazy state, your eyes had locked onto a figure that seemed to glow amidst the dim lights of the party. Reo Mikage, a name that resonated through campus like a melody, stood there, his presence magnetic and his smile dangerously alluring.

Without much thought, you approached the poseur table he was located at.

“Are you single?” you asked him the second you got close enough for him to hear. Fortunately, he wasn't surrounded by his usual crowd.

Now, what happened to ‘hello’? To ‘are you having fun?’ That question is too straightforward for a conversation starter, isn't it? 

“Yeah? Yes, I mean.” Reo replied, confusion evident in his tone.

“Okay good, listen.” Stepping closer, you caught him off guard, and he instinctively took a step back. His movement prompted a questioning look from you, tinged with a hint of concern because it was one step, yet he backed away for three. Little did you know, your proximity was affecting him more than the alcohol he'd consumed.

Undeterred and tequila-fueled, you continued. “I really don't want to drink those abominations in liquid form my friends dared me, so may you find it in your good heart to let me kiss the shit out of you so I’m saved.”

What the hell did he just hear? “Kiss the shit out of me…?”

“Yeah.” So, he heard you right. He’s not making it up. Good, he thinks.

“What do I get in return?”

“Lunch? My treat.” 

Did you just offer a multimillionaire heir a lunch and promise it's on you? At this point, you're not drunk — you're certifiably crazy.

“Hmm, sounds good. Alright, please do show me how the shit out of me can be kissed by you.”

In the face of his agreement, you rolled your eyes at his mocking tone. But there was no time for second-guessing; this was your moment.

Grasping the front of his shirt, you tugged him closer. You saw how his eyes widened at what you did before it broke out to a boyish grin. A breath passed, and then — the two of you collided.

In the electrified space between heartbeats, your lips found each other hungrily. His breath mingled with yours, a shared exchange of anticipation as your mouths moved in sync, exploring each other with an urgency that defied logic.

The taste of tequila still lingered, a faint reminder of the daring choice that had led you here. But it was the heat, the fervor, that consumed you both. Your bodies pressed together, the proximity sparking flames of need that danced through your veins.

His fingers found purchase at your waist, the touch igniting a trail of sensation that sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and a moan rose out of your throat as he drew your bottom lip between his teeth, a delicious tug that blurred the lines between who was kissing whom.

You pulled back from the kiss first, and a protest almost climbed Reo’s throat. But he knew better than to step in unwarranted, instead, he settled with savoring the image of your flushed state. Even in these neon blaring lights, Reo could discern your state with your heavy panting. Was it because of the alcohol? Or him? He hopes it’s the latter.

“That was… fuck. Thank your friends for the dare for me, yeah?”

And that’s how it all ended — with a kiss far from innocent.

Now here you are, nursing a splitting headache as you trudged across campus, textbooks clutched to your chest, trying to shake off the remnants of last night's debauchery. The taste of regret was heavy on your tongue—not just from the hangover, but from the events that led up to it.

In your slightly inebriated mind, the plan made sense. Kiss the hottest guy at the party, and you'd show your friends that you were up to the challenge. It was akin to hitting two birds with one stone: escaping the impending liquor onslaught and salvaging your pride. 

At the time, it sounded good – sounded like a winning strategy. But now? You want to bang your head against the wall for even thinking it made sense. And you’d do it if it weren’t for your phone buzzing in your pocket interrupting your self-loathing.

Last night for Reo was enchanting, to say the least. 

It was like a spark in the darkness, an unexpected surge of joy that he found himself smirking at the memory, reliving the sensation of your lips in his.

Last night might have been the spark, but it wasn't where it all began for Reo. 

Before you approached him at the party, he remembered you from freshman year. It was hard not to—especially when he recalled the exact moment. He perfectly remembers how you looked him dead in the eye and quipped,“Why waste your time on that sport if your aim is as off as a blindfolded archer? The goal's over there, genius. Not me.” after his supposed goal went astray and hit you in the back.

Well, he took that personally— word for word. And within a year, he had risen to become the best player on the team.

Now add that memory to the daring kiss you shared last night? There was no way Reo would be forgetting you anytime soon. He was now on a mission to make sure that you remembered him as vividly as he remembered you.

Good thing you owe him lunch, and an even better thing that he spotted you just now on a bench near the field he was on. He chuckled to himself at the coincidence, he wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. 

Reo, with his pragmatic and business-oriented mindset, was perhaps one of the last people on earth to put faith in notions like fate. But maybe he can make an exception to that philosophy if it’s you. 

Because right now, this whole thing felt like a mischievous wink from the cosmos, giving Reo a shot at something he had only dared to imagine. Wasting no more chances, he pulled out his phone.

[Today, 8:32 AM]

Is this Y/N?  This is Reo, by the way.

From his vantage point, he saw you reach for your phone immediately after he hit send. The widening of your eyes and the hint of surprise as you read his message didn't go unnoticed.

Cute. Peering down to his phone, he snorted with laughter at your response.

y/n: No. You’ve got the wrong number. [8:33 AM] Your friend confirmed it’s yours, though :P [8:33 AM] Also, I can see you typing. [8:34 AM]

Your eyes immediately scanned the whole field in search of the possible source of your college life’s impending doom. After a few seconds of looking with furrowed brows and a crinkled nose, there – you saw him, with his head slightly cocked to the side and his arms crossed over his chest, grinning at your display of reaction to his messages.

Your searching eyes transformed into bewilderment the instant he stood up, making his way toward you. Realizing that the two of you couldn’t be seen together under any circumstances to avoid igniting unnecessary gossip, your fingers danced over the screen of your phone, rapidly firing off messages that inundated his notifications.

y/n: what do you need are you trying to approach me stop right there stop walking!!!! everyone's looking i swear to god [8:37 AM]

Your frantic typing, however, seemed to make no impact. As if on a mission, Reo continued walking closer to you with the most annoyingly confident grin on his lips. His gaze was locked onto you, unwavering and undeterred.

Even from the distance that separates you two, you could make out what he was wearing. And you were damn sure, it was the sluttiest piece of clothing a man could wear.

The divine must really have its favorites, it seems. Because while you looked like hell had taken up residence on your head from last night’s festivities, he looked too sinful for a sunny morning in his compression shirt. 

No one should look that damn good at 8 AM—it's practically criminal and a slap in the face to regular college students like you.

As Reo closed the distance between you, you could practically feel the weight of all those curious eyes fixated on the scene. Were they looking at him? You? Or both? The thought alone made you want to sink into the ground and disappear.

“Hi.” 

Hi? You’re hyperventilating from the attention the two of you are getting and he quips a hi? 

“What do you need?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice steady amid the prying gazes of onlookers.

Reo's grin remained stubbornly intact, seemingly oblivious to the audience around you. “I’m here to collect a favor you owe me!” he declared with an enthusiasm that felt almost out of place in this surreal moment.

He can’t be seriously asking you to buy him lunch, right? What does he even eat? A5 Wagyu steak? There’s no way your student budget can afford that.

“I don’t remember owing you anything.”

“Really? I’ll remind you then, you offered to buy me lunch last night before you grabbed my collar and kissed m–”

“Finish that sentence, and lunch is not the only thing you’ll get from me.”

Your threat hung heavy in the air, your words loaded with a blend of annoyance and embarrassment that had settled on your cheeks.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” and yet, ever undeterred from your hostility, Reo's voice took on a smug, teasing tone that matched the twinkle in his eye.

This guy. “You're a bit annoying, don’t you think?”

“No, I don't think I am,” he countered, “And I also don't think that's how you should speak to someone who, and I quote, found it in their good heart to kiss you and save you from eight shots of tequila, though.”

Reo was on a mission, that much was clear. And quoting your exact words from last night seemed to be one of his tactics to ensure you remembered him and that kiss you shared. 

And lucky him, it looks like it’s working like a charm in which the telltale warmth in your cheeks revealed. Unfortunately for you, your simmering frustration combined with a throbbing headache could either launch you into a one-way ticket to expulsion or earn you a potential criminal record.

May the universe and all the saints grant you patience, because the overwhelming urge to wipe that damn grin off his face is slowly overtaking your senses.

You glanced at your watch, calculating whether you had enough time to wrap up your presentation before considering lunch. “Fine. Text me the location,” you conceded, your tone reluctantly agreeable. “I have a presentation to do first. I'll meet you there before noon.”

It might turn out to be a questionable financial decision to let him choose the lunch spot, but you were sticking to your word. You still owed him, after all.

“Sure. Good luck on your presentation. I’m sure you’ll devour the shit out of it.” 

His playful tone, quoting your own words again back at you, made your eyes roll in a mix of annoyance and flustered embarrassment.

Reo, on the other hand, seems like he’s having the time of his life with your reactions.

Someone can’t wait for lunch time, it seems. And clearly, that’s not you but a certain purple-haired.

If anyone were to observe Reo in this moment, they might easily mistake his fidgeting for the anxious prelude to a first Tinder meet up. Of course, that would be utterly absurd, considering he was simply awaiting someone's arrival, who happened to owe him a wholesome meal.

The little bell above the restaurant's entrance jingled, drawing Reo's attention like a magnet. 

His heart skipped a beat when he saw you walk in, much to his surprise. Seemingly fresh and put-together now, you appeared quite different from the disarrayed figure he had spotted on the field earlier. 

Your smile, which now adorned your face as you exchanged pleasantries with the hostess, seemed to hint that your presentation had gone well, and perhaps the remnants of last night’s headache were subsiding.

Casually dressed yet carrying an air of understated confidence, you navigated the room with ease. His eyes followed you as you moved, taking in the subtle sway of your hair, the way your lips curved into polite smiles for familiar faces. He observed this scene unfolding before him, almost as if he were watching a scene from one of those romcom movies.

When your gaze finally settled on him, Reo could feel the heat making its way to his neck that he hoped his collar was hiding well.

The moment you settled into your seat, you wasted no time in addressing the metaphorical elephant in the room. “I’m sorry I put you in that position last night,” you blurted out.

Conversation starters were not your strong suit, Reo noted with an inward chuckle. Last night's shameless question was understandable, given the influence of alcohol, but in the clear light of day, your choice of conversation openers left much to be desired.

“It’s fine,” he replied with a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a faint smile of reassurance. He raised his left hand to catch the waiter's attention, subtly signaling for the menu. “Glad it was me, actually,” he mumbled more to himself than to you, his own unfiltered thought taking him by surprise.

“What?”

“What?”

Before you could even attempt to untangle the verbal knot, the waiter arrived with the menus, saving Reo from any further explanations. He observed as the waiter acknowledged you, a smile exchanged between you two. It seemed you were a regular here, and he found himself intrigued by yet another layer of your personality.

“You know him?” Reo inquired, nodding toward the departing waiter.

“Oh, I'm a regular here. It's my favorite place,” you explained with a hint of fondness.

“What are the chances? It's mine too.” 

Your eyes narrowed in playful disbelief, seemingly not buying the idea of someone like Reo enjoying a meal at a diner like this. “You?”

You admit you were surprised when he texted you of this place being his choice of dining. You were totally gearing up for him to suggest some fancy French or Italian joint where you'd need to take out a loan just to cover the bill. After all, people like him should be dining on caviar and foie gras. But then he texted you this choice, and maybe he's more down-to-earth than you thought. Or maybe he just knows where the good food is. It's hard to believe either, though.

Challenged, Reo insisted, “Yes. Me.”

“Alright, what are you having then? I’m ordering their famous pesto pasta—surely you know what that is, right?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips. 

“Of course, I do.” Reo was basically lying through his teeth, at this point. But he couldn’t back down from his claim. And what? Admit that it's his first time here and the only reason he chose this was because he often sees you eating here? Not a chance.

“Why don’t you order for us then?”

With no turning back, he quipped, “Sure thing,” before signaling for a server. He sensed your amused gaze on him, and a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

“We’ll have two orders of your pesto pasta, please.”

“Uhm sir, we don’t serve pasta here.”

You let out a laugh, and Reo swears he could almost hear the birds chirping in the background.

Maybe a bit of embarrassment was a fair trade for that sound, he mused.

Lunch, for you, was not so bad and not quite the disaster you initially imagined.

Not until, out of nowhere, Reo brought up your embarrassing escapade from last night, “Was it because of that incident in freshman year that you approached me last night?”

“Freshman year?” you echoed, momentarily thrown off track. “Did we ever have a class together? Because I genuinely can't picture myself willingly signing up for economics or any finance-related course.”

“No, we didn't share any classes. And what's wrong with those courses? They're actually quite enjoyable.”

Yeah, if your idea of fun is spending hours deciphering graphs and balancing budgets. Enjoyable if you think that analyzing the stock market is the pinnacle of excitement.

“I don’t remember you from freshman year, though.” you admitted.

Reo's disbelief was palpable as he leaned back in his chair, a smug grin settling in. “You told me I suck at soccer a couple of years ago. Ring any bells? It was on the field.”

“I did fucking what now again?” You briefly questioned your past choices – or the lack of recollection thereof. Were you perpetually in a tipsy daze during your time at university? How could you miss every brash choice you made? Your brazen mouth could indeed get you into unforeseen trouble one day, that much is very clear.

“And here I was, thinking you kissed me on that dare as payback for me accidentally hitting you with a soccer ball.” Reo chuckled at your surprise, leaning back further.

“No,” you retorted, shaking your head slightly. “I did it because the dare was to kiss someone we found hot at the party.”

Oh. “So you think I’m hot?”

“My drunk self sure did.”

“Well, and what does your sober self think now?”

Clearly, this banter was a game both of you were more than willing to play. With a pointed gaze, you focused on Reo, a slow grin tugging at your lips. The effect on Reo was almost instantaneous—his throat cleared awkwardly, and his confident grin faltering.

“My sober self thinks my drunk self is absolutely right.” 

You infused the word ‘absolutely’ with a nonchalant drawl, noting the flush creeping up Reo’s cheeks. His composure seemed to waver, and he hastily reached for his drink, downing it within seconds. 

Satisfied that you managed to wipe his confident grin, you pressed on, “Are you blushing?”

“No,” Reo responded a bit too quickly, his voice a tad higher than usual. “It’s a bit hot in here.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” You chuckled at his flimsy excuse, your eyes catching the telltale shade of red tinting his ears and neck. Reo is easy to fluster as it is for him to do so, you noted. “Let’s get out of here, let me just pay.” 

Just as you were about to signal a waiter, Reo halted you with his words, “It’s done.”

“Done?”

“I gave them my card before you arrived.”

What the fuck. “But the favor…”

Reo's smirk reappeared, a gleam of triumph in those amethyst orbs. “Looks like you still owe me a date.”

“A lunch,” you corrected him, but Reo shrugged nonchalantly, a playful ‘same thing’ expression on his face.

“Sure, whatever you say,” he mimicked your tone, “Let me walk you to your next class.” He offered, rising from his seat as you did.

“Thank you, but absolutely no.”

“Why not?” 

Reo must be really oblivious to his fame, it seems. “Just because. Also, don’t you have practice?”

“I do, but ten more minutes with you sounds better.” 

You rolled your eyes at his attempt to charm you. “Are you slacking off, captain? Looks like my freshman self was right about your soccer skills after all.”

“I’m not slacking off, I just know my priorities.” and there it was again, that grin and that stare. Whether it was the tequila or just him, Reo really had a way of pulling you into his orbit.

Bashful, and at a loss for better retorts, you looked away. “Next time.”

“So there’s a next time, then?” he innocently asks, clearly fishing for another affirmation.

“Next time, I’m paying.” 

“Got that.” Reo mindlessly agreed. He’s just happy there’s a next time, honestly. “Let me walk you out, at least.”

Both of you left the restaurant, walking side by side in companionable silence. After a few moments, you decided to break the quietude that had settled between you.

“I guess we're parting ways here,” you remarked, your voice carrying a hint of finality.

Reo’s disappointment was evident, though he tried to mask it. “Sure. Thank you for the meal.”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “What are you thanking me for? You paid for it.”

“Let me rephrase it then, thank you for introducing me to this place. I’ve clearly been missing out,” he beams.

“You're welcome, Mr. Fine Dining.”

As you walked a few steps ahead of Reo, you turned your head to look back at him, seemingly remembering something to tell him. “Oh, by the way,” you start, a teasing smile making its way to your lips, “I’m glad it was you too.”

With that, you took one last glance at his starstruck expression before parting ways, leaving him with a lingering smile.

Maybe something good does come out of stupid college parties and dumb drinking games – in the form of someone with enchanting smiles and magnetic purple eyes, that is.

And now, for sure, with or without the tequila haze, there’s not a single chance you’re forgetting Reo Mikage anytime soon. 

note. he makes me ill ( i love him very much and this is purely self-indulgent because i need him like air).

#☁️ my ode to you #mikage reo #reo mikage #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo fluff #mikage reo x y/n #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff

[taizi]

Ooh would you write a sequel to the one where Luffy tells the crew about Sabo and paints their flag, then Robin goes and calls Sabo to come n visit them??? 💕

sequel to this

x

Luffy is holding his hand so hard it’s beginning to hurt, but it doesn’t even cross Usopp’s mind to let go. 

The man who boards them looks nothing like Luffy, or even Usopp’s memories of Ace. He’s very pale and fair-haired, with a graceful, willowy sort of frame that Usopp’s storyteller mind leaps to associate with princes and castles. 

The man looks extremely nervous. He holds himself absolutely still with picture-perfect posture, like it was something drilled into him at a young age. Once his eyes find Luffy, they don’t look anywhere else. 

He came alone. The solitary figure he strikes on the opposite side of the deck tugs at Usopp’s heart. 

Robin makes a disapproving sound under her breath when he stays rooted where he’s at and strides across the grass to meet him. 

“Sabo,” she greets him, holding out her hands. He seizes them with equal parts gratitude and desperation but he still doesn’t look at her.

Next to him, clustered as close as they are together, Usopp feels the jolt go through Luffy like a surge of electricity. 

It was the name, Usopp thinks. None of them have said it out loud since that shocking conversation with Robin, which Luffy had absorbed without speaking for four very long minutes before bolting from the room to hide with Sunny on the figurehead for the rest of the afternoon. 

Usopp tries to imagine being told his mother was alive, after growing up and apart from her for half his life. He tries to imagine the shock and disbelief, and how it would fold slowly into reluctant hope, and how much it would hurt to claw open a wound that’s ten years healed and how ready he would be to do exactly that if there was even a chance he might see her again. 

Luffy lost Ace two years ago. It happened right in front of him. It happened in the worst, most traumatizing way it possibly could have. And it happened when his crew had been forced apart and flung to the far corners of the world and he was left to bear that impossible grief all alone. 

Take care of him for me, Ace had said, smiling with his teeth beneath an unrelenting desert sun, all reds and golds and warmth. 

Usopp holds Luffy’s hand tighter, the rubber skin and bones compressing in a familiar way beneath the unrelenting grip of his fingers. 

The morning after The Conversation With Robin, all of them packed around a breakfast table laden with hearty biscuits and gravy, strip steak and eggs, and cinnamon rolls the size of their heads—Sanji’s unspoken spoiling of their captain after the previous afternoon’s bombshell; he even let Luffy try his coffee, which never fucking happens. They were all poised to do and say and be exactly what their captain needed, if he’d only give them a cue. 

Luffy, for his part, breezed into the galley bright and early, like it was any other day, and he hadn't spent all of last night all by himself. He called out cheerful greetings, tussled playfully with Zoro, fought with Franky over the spicy potato hash, filled his plate, and then, in the red flag of all red flags, ate exactly zero bites of food before turning to Robin. 

“Hey, Robin,” he said, “why didn’t Sabo come find me?”

The only sound in the kitchen was the unobtrusive steaming from the medley of pans on the stovetop and the sharp clunk of the glass Nami accidentally set down too hard.

Robin smiled at Luffy, the special way she smiled that was reserved solely for him. She grew an extra hand and nudged his plate towards him.

“I told you, captain,” she said. “He had amnesia. The only thing he remembered from his childhood was his desperation not to return to Goa Kingdom.”

“Retrograde amnesia is a medical condition,” Chopper piped up, desperate to be helpful. He’d been on the edge of his seat all morning, ready to fly to Luffy at the first tiniest indication that he should. “Several different things can cause it, like disease or injury, but it sounds like S—like his memory loss was probably caused by trauma.”

“Yeah,” Luffy said easily, accepting what they told him without question. He scooted food around on his otherwise untouched plate, expression giving nothing away. “But after that. Robin said that seeing Ace in the newspaper made him remember. That was two years ago.”

Dread sank in Usopp’s stomach like a stone. He glanced quickly around the table and found his friends’ faces mirroring what his own probably looked like. 

“He didn’t come find me,” Luffy said. “Does he hate me?”

“No,” Zoro said at once, his tone a guarantee that it would be the last thing Sabo ever did if it was true.

“Why would you think that?” Sanji forced out between gritted teeth. 

“Because I let Ace die,” their captain said frankly. “He was right in front of me and I couldn't save him. Now Sabo doesn’t want to see me.”

Everyone started talking at once, and Chopper upset his apple juice in his scramble to finally fling himself into Luffy’s arms, and Usopp decided that getting his ass beat by Mr. 4 and Miss Christmas hurt a hell of a lot less than this. 

Robin rose gracefully and rounded the table. An extra arm bloomed out of the table to grip the back of Luffy’s chair and wrench it around, facing it towards her.

She kneeled and took his hands, and then her wrists grew hands so that she could hold Chopper’s little hooves too. But her eyes were all for Luffy when she said, “He loves you. He’s making a better world for you.”

Luffy stared back at her and finally his blank expression cracked. His mouth twisted a little, brows furrowing above shiny brown eyes. 

“Then why didn’t he come?” 

“Because despite your separation, you two are more alike than anyone could have guessed,” Robin said warmly. “And he’s afraid you hate him, too.”

And now they’re both here, standing beneath the cloudy sky, and Luffy—wild, relentless, unassuming Luffy—doesn’t seem to know what to do. He’s always the one who makes the first move, who barrels right in with a noisy laugh, but instead he just clutches at Usopp’s hand and presses his opposite shoulder into Zoro’s and drinks in the sight of the man across the deck. 

Studying him, Usopp realizes. Recognizing him.  

Then Luffy blinks, and the wetness in his eyes falls down his cheeks, and the blond man jerks like he’s been punched in the gut. 

“I, um,” he says, digging hastily into one of his inner coat pockets, “I brought you something.” 

He tosses the gift over and Luffy lets go of Usopp’s hand to catch it. It turns out to be an old brass monocular telescope, shining dully in Luffy’s hands. Worn and scuffed in quite a few places, easily decades old. Luffy studies it very quietly. 

“All of my things were lost when my ship was shot down,” the man says. “Nothing could be salvaged. But that was in my pocket. It must have been important if it was the only thing I was carrying with me, so I kept it all these years.”

He tries on a smile. It pulls at the side of his face discolored and puckered by burn scars. It seems like a miracle he’s standing there and smiling at all. 

“You wanted a telescope when we were kids, remember? I finally brought you one. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“Sabo took forever,” Luffy says. He sounds young. 

It’s the way he sounded in Alabasta, when Ace showed up and interjected himself in the chase between the Straw Hats and Smoker’s men—like it was his body’s natural response to plant itself like a tree between Luffy and whatever danger was behind him. Luffy ran away laughing, bright and untroubled and certain of his safety. 

Peak little sibling energy, Usopp had later thought wryly. It explained so much of who his captain was as a person to know he was the baby of his family of monsters and mad men. 

Luffy sounds that way now, his face all screwed up, blotchy and streaked with tears. 

“He took forever,” he says again, emphatic and bewildered and hurt. “I missed him so much and he was too busy being stupid to come tell me he’s alive. I thought—”

Robin steps out of the way in time to avoid being trampled when their guest moves the way a missile shot from a cannon moves. Luffy lurches forward, too, but he doesn’t have time to make it a single step before he’s being snatched up in bigger arms and hauled into an embrace that looks like it might leave a bruise. One gloved hand on the back of Luffy’s head cradles it against a broad shoulder and the other grips the back of Luffy’s jacket hard enough it starts to tear. 

“Robin told me,” the man gasps, like he’s not getting enough air. “I don’t hate you, how could I hate you? You’re my brother. I’m so—I’m so grateful you survived, Lu. I don’t know what I would have done if you—if—” 

He can’t say it, can’t speak the words into existence, as if the world would be a dark, unlivable place if Luffy weren’t in it. In that instant, Usopp understands this stranger completely. 

Sabo pulls back, but only so he can hold Luffy’s head in his hands. Luffy goes on tiptoe to knock their foreheads together, a gesture Usopp has seen him do with his nakama, and always chalked up to Luffy’s weird feral energy. It’s a gesture that makes Sabo’s next breath sound like a sob. Or maybe a laugh. 

Luffy laughs with him, wet and choked. Neither of them are self-conscious about the state of themselves. They sit right there, a graceless collapse into the warm grass, somewhat on top of each other like clumsy, half-grown wolf cubs. 

Usopp feels a weight lifted. He thinks he must be smiling like an absolute idiot and his own eyes are definitely damp, but he’s unselfconscious, too. A person learns a thing or two about what appearances actually matter, sailing with this crew. And tears come easily when you live honestly, the way Luffy always has. 

He’s rattling at a million words a minute now, speaking in an Eastern language Usopp is unfamiliar with—probably a regional dialect from the island he grew up on.

Sabo follows along effortlessly, interjecting now and then in the same language, but content, for the most part, just to listen to his little brother talk.

He absorbs every second of Luffy’s presence the same needy way plants unfurl to soak up sunlight. 

#one piece #opfic #asl brothers #revolutionary sabo #monkey d luffy #god usopp #op #my writing #prompt #anonymous #asl bros #after this sabo sees the ASL flag in the galley and starts crying again #franky makes him one to take home

[sofasoap]

Little secret.

Pairing: John Price x f!Reader + 141 boys.

Summary: When Soap and Gaz found out something their captain been keeping a secret for a long time. and Ghost is amused. This is part of the "Mini" MacTavish universe, but the reader isn't " Mini".

Warning: M rated, swearing. Before anyone starts the debate, the age gap between Reader and Price is not huge. All consenting adults here. Also the flash back event was from quite a few years ago. So don't come argue with me thanks. You are responsible for your own media consumption , minors DNI.

A/N: This is what I call, when you can't find food, you create your own food. There's so many angsty Price fics out there I want this man to be happy.....

Character of Mini MacTavish is from @saltofmercury fic “ “The Favorite MacTavish” ” which she graciously let me borrow and write bit more expanded universe. Please go read her wonderful story to get bit of background

 “masterlist” for more stories to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

" You met her before."

Soap and Gaz's mouth dropped open.

"When????"

"... At my wedding. His son was there too."

" OH WOW HOLD UP there's too much information to process here." Gaz push his seat back and holding both hands up.

Ghost, Soap and Gaz sitting in Price's office, waiting for him to come back for mission briefing. When the topic somehow turns to Price's love life.

" I never seen Price mention or seen anyone that he is interested in before." Soap mentioned

" .. You know he is married right?" Simon cuts in and drop the bombshell news.

" Not only at my wedding, you two seen her around the base few times too."

" WAIT WHAT??? how is that possible??"

The office door opens and Price came in with documents in his hand. Soap jump to the opportunity attacking Price with questions,

" HOW COME YOU NEVER TOLD US!?"

" Told you what?"

" That you are already married! and.. and have a child as well!"

Price throw the file onto his desk, eyeing Ghost silently, why did you tell them. Ghost just shrugged his shoulder and sip on his tea.

"I don't have to tell you every bits and pieces about my private life do I?" Price sigh.

" But.. "

" Shut up and let's start the meeting."

Price thought back to the day you two first met. Well, technically you seen him around the base few times, and when he comes into the infirmary, but you were never the ones to treat him, nor have you two ever interacted.

But secretly you always have eyes on him.

You were a rookie medic at that stage, and Price was already a big presence in SAS, you heard a lot of stories and his deeds on battlefield. People gossip about him, how he is still single is beyond everyone's believe.

"Bravo 6 to Watcher 1, I been compromised, taking fire."

" Roger, meet at the rendezvous point. Go!"

Price started running through the street, trying to throw off his chasers. Suddenly a pair of hand pulled him into the alley way and yank his head down into a kiss.

While still in shock he can faintly hear running footsteps getting closer.

"Don't turn around, They are heading the other way now but still too close." you whispered after breaking the kiss and quickly taking your scarf off and wrapping around his neck and remove his beanies.

".. Who are you." Price asked as he buried his face into the crook of neck. You shivered a bit when you feel his beard grazing against your skin.

" A rookie medic on holiday here."

" How do you know I am in danger."

" I saw Laswell before around the street, and you sitting in the cafe, put two and two together there must be a mission." You let out a breath. " They are gone now." You push him away a little. But he still kept his hold on you.

You were telling the truth. You are on your holiday in Amsterdam, visiting your high school friend who moved to Netherland after getting married. Today as your friend had something else on, you took the chance to do a bit of sightseeing yourself by strolling around the city. That's when you saw Laswell, trying to conceal herself by the street corner. She look at you and by instinct you knew she is here on business, not to compromise the mission you just kept walking.

Feeling cold, you saw a cafe further down the canal. Deciding to get a take away coffee so you can make yourself bit warmer, you spotted Price sitting just in the corner, turning his face away. You walked past him, order a cafe and went on your way.

A while later further down the street you vaguely hear the gunshot being fired, and Price running towards your direction. Without thinking you pulled him into the alley way and kissed him. You don't know why you did that.

" Bravo 6, do you copy."

" Watcher 1, I got extra package. Heading to rendezvous point now. "

" Sorry." You apologised.

Price sighed. " Let's get moving."

You got through the rest of your holiday without anymore drama. After you got back to the base, you couldn't forget the way he look at you after Laswell dropped you off in a safe spot before leaving. Price quietly thank you for your help, you can sense he wanted to say more, but stopped himself short.

You tell yourself he thinks nothing more of you other than a fellow soldier that helped him during the mission by pure chance.

.. Until he comes into the infirmary one day, with a dislocated shoulder.

You were the only one on duty. He wasn't surprised to see you, but you were. Bit flustered you ask him to sit down and check his injury.

"What were you doing??"

" Sparring with the new recruits."

" You should be more careful. Looks like an old recurrent injury too. You know how to pop it back yourself right?"

Price didn't respond. Even when you pop his shoulder back into the socket.

" .. Thank you." He quietly thanked your help again. just like he did in the car.

You wave him off. " Alright, don't do anything too strenuous for next few days. If any problem, come back to the med bay. "

Afterwards you often find him coming in with all sorts of injuries. very minor ones too. Your fellow medic starting to tease you;

"Our lovely Captain Price must have a crush on you. You should see his face last time when he came in while you were on leave. He look so disappointed that I was the one to treat him." They laughed.

" Don't be ridiculous." you scoffed. Price will never have feelings for you, a little rookie medic that isn't great on the battlefield and really contributes nothing on the grand scale, unlike them, heading out on counter terrorism missions, taking down cartels. But you do think it's odd he kept coming in for little things, as before he hardly turns up unless it's one of his fellow teammate escorting a.k.a force him to have some major injuries to be looked at.

One late evening, you were on night duty, while everyone else was either in bed or off on dates for Valentines day, you heard a knock on the door.

" Come in."

Price pop his head in , with two cups of coffee in hand.

" Oh. Um, Captain, what can I do for you? Are you hurt?"

" I am not disturbing you am I?" " No, I am just finish writing clinical notes from this morning. Come in. " He closed the door gently with his foot and approach the desk.

Putting the coffee down on the desk, he took a seat.

"Is that for me?" he nod his head once.

" Oh . thank you." You took a sip. Vienna style coffee. Just the way you like it.

He must have seen the surprise on your face. "... I asked your friend."

No wonder. You knew something was up when they begged you to swap the shift tonight. " Please... I got a date to go to! It's Valentines day.. and You got no plans that night right? sorry not trying to insult you. I promise I will return the favour next time if you need someone to change your shift...". Damn them , you cursed.

Face burning, you quietly sipping on the coffee.

"... are you free next weekend." He suddenly asked.

Raising eyebrow, " I can be.. Why?"

".... Can I take you out for dinner." he mumbled while hiding his face with the cup. You choked. IS he asking you out?

And the rest is history.

"So Captain , where does your.. wife work in the base?"

" None of your business."

" She's a medic in the infirmary." Ghost replied.

Price shot another death glance at Ghost.

" OHH, I must ask about her next time I go in. "

" Stay away from her you two. That's why I didn't want to tell people" he growled.

Ghost is secretly a shit stirrer. Mini gave him a gag gift one year that says " keep calm drink tea " for his ability to shit stir and watch the chaos unfold as he drinks tea.

Thank you for reading!!!

#captain price #captain john price #john price x you #john price x reader #john price x y/n #john price imagine #task force 141 #captain price x reader #price x reader

[charliemwrites]

My Oc! Her name is Cassandra ‘Cass’ Valentine! She’s a captain in the United States marines, call sign ‘Sweetheart’ Used ironically!- A military brat with a long legacy of enlisted family members. She’s whom I usually picture whenever I read CoD x reader!

Her specialty is interrogation! With a familiarity with *most* fire arms. I drew this piece special!

You don’t have to post this- I just wanted to show you! :)

No no I need to post her because she's an absolute Bombshell. And I love her little glare in the second picture.

[gazs-blue-hat]

Gaz’s Blue Hat  Masterlists and introduction! (Please Read Me!)

Hello! I’m Val, or “the hat”. I love the CoD universe and have watched play throughs of most of the games. At the moment, I’m only writing for 141 and possibly other main characters throughout the story.

If you do not have your age in your bio, you’re getting blocked. I’m sorry but this is an 18+ blog. I don’t feel comfortable with minors interacting with my things.

Another thing. I will write rough topics. I’ve struggled with Suicide, Self Harm, Sexual Abuse, Addiction and many other vices. I feel like there (rightfully) is a lot of hesitation to write these topics. However, I find comfort in stories. Of course I’ll put trigger warnings on every piece I do, but I want to let you know that you’re seen and you’re heard. Final thing and I'll stop my rambling, I promise. I won't tolerate hate here. I do my best to stay educated on things and thus, this is a safe place for people to ask questions and learn about things they might not know about. Be kind folks.

Key: 

💖-Fluff

🪄 -Silly

🩸-Whump

☠️-Angst

❤️‍🔥-Smut

Series

-Fair Winds and Following Seas- Simon Riley x Reader (Tempest) 

Read on Ao3: Here!

Chapter 1: Pilot

Chapter 2: The Winding Road of Introductions

Chapter 3: The Calm Before the Storm

Chapter 4: Speed of Sound (Wip)

Glacial Tides- King!Johnny MacTavish X Siren!Reader

Masterlist Found Here!

--------------------------------------- Small Town UA- Hiatus

-Sunflowers and Shotguns (Small Town UA)- Soap x Reader (Lamb) 💖🩸

Welcome

Southern Hospitality

Around the Fences

Air Pressure

Tornado Sirens (Wip)

Toxemia (wip)

-Injections and Ivermectin (Small Town UA)- Ghost X Reader (Tens)💖

Moos Malady 

Like Little Railroads

Riley and Riley (Wip)

Concussion (Wip)

CPR (Wip)

Fireplace (Wip)

-Books and Bombshells (Small Town UA)- Gaz x Reader (Keys)

Books Bring Us Together

WPM (Wip)

Dewy Decimal System (Wip)

Movie night (Wip)

Kickstarter (Wip)

Dog-earing (Wip)

-Waves and Warfare (Small Town UA)- Price X Reader (Skip)

Captain to Captain

Come a little closer (Wip)

Kate Kate Kate (Wip)

High Seas (Wip)

Depth Charge (Wip)

Songs of the Deep (Wip)

-TF141 and the WSM- (Small town UA blurbs)

Wear the hat, ride the cowboy 🪄

Beware the Wave Soaked Maidens (Wip)

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

Dungeons and Dragons AU (All characters have three parts)

Seeing isn’t everything (Kyle “Gaz” Garrick X F!Reader) (Medusa)

Pt. 1

Pt. 2

Pt. 3

Songs across Seafoam (Johnny “Soap” MacTavish X F!Reader) (Siren) (Wip) 💖🩸❤️‍🔥

Pt. 1

Pt. 2

Pt. 3

Shapes in the Mists (Simon “Ghost” Riley X F!Reader) (Changeling) (Wip) 💖☠️❤️‍🔥

Pt.1

Pt.2

Pt.3

Curls of Smoke and Embers (Captain John Price X F!Reader) (Dragon) (Wip) 💖☠️🩸❤️‍🔥

Pt.1

Pt.2

Pt.3

--------------------------------------- One Shots

Captain John Price 

Left Behind ( Wip) 💖🩸

Yours to command ❤️‍🔥

Wedding ring (blurb)❤️‍🔥

Cherry stem (blurb) mild❤️‍🔥

Bad day (blurb) 💖

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Potent Poisons and Precious Passions (Fem!Reader) 💖❤️‍🔥

Loving Something So Broken (Gn!Reader)☠️💖

Forged in Blood, Bonded by Steel (wip) 💖❤️‍🔥

Hearts Do Mend ☠️💖 (Slight❤️‍🔥)

Cherry Stem (blurb) mild❤️‍🔥

Tags (Blurb) ❤️‍🔥

Bad day (Blurb) 💖

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish 

Whispers in the Night (Wip) 💖❤️‍🔥

Domestic Bliss (wip) ❤️‍🔥💖

Cherry Stem (blurb) mild❤️‍🔥

Desperate (Blurb) ❤️‍🔥

Bad Day (Blurb) 💖

Talking you Through it (Blurb) (Capt. MacTavish) ❤️‍🔥

Headboard (Blurb) (Capt. MacTavish) ❤️‍🔥

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Passing Notes 💖

Cherry Stem (blurb) mild❤️‍🔥

Natural Remedy (Blurb) ❤️‍🔥

Bad Day (Blurb)

Paperwork Shmaperwork 💖

Alex Keller

K.I.A to C.I.A (Wip)💖❤️‍🔥

Konig

Love on the Battlefield (WIP)💖❤️‍🔥

Keegan P. Russ

Rupert’s Drop (WIP) 💀🩸

No Nut November (Blurb) ❤️‍🔥

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

Blurbs

No Pairings, just brainrot

What really happened at the end of MWIII

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

🩸Whumptober🩸

Intro (Please Read)

Character taking care of Reader Whumptober list

Reader taking care of Character Whumptober list

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

Reblogged Masterlists

These will be complete lists of everything I have ever reblogged about these characters. I don't like the Tumblr Tagging system to look through my stuff so I made my own list like this. I'll be going backwards from present day to the very start of this blog (June)

(11/5/2023 update): I'm working hard on linking and sorting everything I have reblogged. I have organized up to October. Everything that has yet to be linked will have the tag 'To Be Linked' on it. Feel free to rummage through the bins while I get my books on a shelf. Thank you for your support!

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

John Price

All Others /Multiple

#masterlist

[nilsavatar]

MY MASTERLIST

Request a fic - Avatober

Avatar: The Way of Water

PHOENIX (On going) - Neteyam x Na'vi!Reader Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 Also on AO3

During the battle with the SeaDragon, gunfire struck Neteyam’s heart. A mortal wound that heals itself under the astonished eyes of his brother, as if the Great Mother still did not want him with her. She has other plans for Toruk Makto's eldest son.  Nevertheless, his body is weak, and he falls into a slumber from which he can no longer wake up. His vital signs are stable, yet Neteyam is slowly slipping away. He is waiting. Waiting for the girl who has been appearing in his dreams since he went into a coma.

Attack on Titan

Hange's Lab (2/3) - Levi x Fem!Reader Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (in proofreading fase) On AO3

The woman reached for her wallet inside the small purse hanging from her wrist, but with a wave of his hand the captain stopped her, 'On the house'. This did amaze her. "I suffered from insomnia for years, I know how that feels," he clarified. "Do you still suffer from it?" Levi nodded. "I guess we can't run from our demons," she replied mournfully, and for the first time the raven-haired man noticed a shadow veiling her usually cheerful amber eyes.

Never with a Military (1/2) - Erwin x Fem!Reader Chapter 1, Chapter 2 On AO3

"I, on the other hand, suspect it is all done on purpose. Think about it. The only single friends paired up to be their witnesses, sitting next to each other at the table. They encouraged us to dance together and then instructed us to set up the bride and groom's room for the wedding night. To me, it all seems done ad hoc to spark something between us." "I feared they were trying to do something like this. You didn't see Hange's eyes, when I dropped the bombshell at the tailor's I was single again after seven years," I took my face in my hands, sitting on the edge of the bed with the back bent, [...], I huffed contritely, "This is so humiliating. I'm so sorry you had to go through that." "Not me." "Huh?" He knelt in front of me, "Actually, they did me a favor." Nora had never liked the military, she had a totally stereotypical view on the subject, and never wanted one at her side. But that conviction was forced to change the day she met a blond commander at a wedding. "I guess I have Hange to thank for being a busybody," I chuckled. "And Levi for reading between the lines."

Unspoken (On going) - Eremin Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (in proofreading fase), Chapter 4 On AO3

Armin is in his final year of his master's degree, his studies are going swimmingly, but a wrong done to him by Eren brings up old grudges, envy, jealousy and unspoken words. On a rainy morning, the handsome blond meets Erin, a three-year student who works part-time at the university cafeteria; there is an immediate spark between them, an unexpected and overwhelming attraction, one that will clash with his introspection, instilling in him not a few doubts about the outcome of their acquaintance. And if Armin himself isn't already hesitant enough, Eren will step in. Something about the girl gives rise to mixed feelings in the brunette who finally manages to understand what drove him to continually hurt his best friend: he is in love with him and really doesn't like others buzzing around him. However, it is one thing to understand it, another to admit it, and yet another to voice it and confess. The fear of losing Armin is great, but with his actions he is pushing him further and further away. Other stories will intertwine in the background: one mature but secret, one born on tiptoe, one passionate and angry.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar the way of water #neteyam x oc #sully family #avatar x reader #avatar fanfiction #sully x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x you #loak sully #lo'ak fluff #jake sully #atwow #attack on titan #erwin attack on titan #levi x hange #reader x levi #levi x hanji #eren jaeger x armin arlert #eren jaeger #eren yeager #armin arlert #armin x reader #erwin smut #erwin x oc #erwin x reader

[angelasscribbles]

Run Away: A Bad Romance One-Shot and a Choices Prompt Story

Series: Bad Romance Continues

Original Series: Bad Romance

This is a @choicesprompt story, find this prompt here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairings for series: Riley x Liam x Max, Riley x Drake, Riley x Rashad

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Rashad

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language, mature themes

Word Count:  3,390

A/N: I haven't written a Riley and Rashad chapter in a while and I missed their dynamic so here you are!

The original Bad Romance chapter referenced in here is chapter 20: Full Disclosure. Chronologically this follows the one shot Interview.

subspace is explained here (it is simply mentioned, there is no NSFW scene in this piece)

My other stuff: Master List.

“Grab your coat, leave a note, and run away with me.”

“What?” Riley stopped what she was doing and turned to face the man standing across from her in astonishment, “Did you not hear what I just said about how insane this day has been?”          

“I heard every word you said, ya amar,” Rashad answered, “That’s why you need a break. Come on, grab your coat, and let’s go!”

Riley stared at him in consternation for a long moment as she considered his words.

Riley was having a hell of a week.

The Royal Council was being a royal pain in her ass. They hadn’t approved the budget she’d spent the last two months working on and they were pushing for her to consider marriage alliances for her daughter.

Like hell.

Drake was off on his annual deep-sea fishing trip with Bastien, which usually left Marco in charge but not this week. No, this week Marco had the fucking flu so Bruno was running point on everything and he wasn’t good at it.

The schedule kept getting fucked up. Either she had too many guards or not enough. She’d never even seen the kid that was posted outside her door that morning. He was far too young, far too nervous, and far too fucking excited for her to deal with at six a.m.

Crown Princess Eleanor was being extra and two of the part-time nannies had quit in the last week.

Kiara was back in town. Riley had run into her at a high-profile charity event and had to pretend to be nice to her.

Madeleine had just started her job as royal communications director and was running roughshod over her inherited staff. The HR complaints were stacking up but Riley couldn’t deny the countess was excellent at her job. She wasn’t inclined to fire her, but she was tired of fielding complaints about a hostile work environment. The countess had exacting standards. The queen could not argue with her results. Maybe it was time for some restructuring anyway.

Liam was out of town on business leaving her to deal with everything. Fucking Liam. He was the whole reason she was even queen to begin with. She had never wanted it. Not for herself anyway.

She didn’t even have Max to fall back on because thanks to the nanny issue, he’d had to stay home with Ellie.

She had been about ready to break down when a knock sounded on the door and her new office manager stuck her head in to announce Rashad’s arrival.

Martha was the seventh office manager she’d had in the three years since she’d become queen.

The first hadn’t worked out because he had been extremely hot and Liam had gotten extremely jealous.

The second had turned out to be dumber than a rock and Riley was forced to admit she had hired him for his abs.

The third time she hired a woman, but she had been extremely hot and extremely interested in Drake. She had lasted a day.

“Wow!” Miranda breathed as she watched Drake from across the room, “The captain of the Queen’s Guard is hotter than all nine circles of hell!”

“What?” A hugely pregnant Riley snapped.

“Captain Walker, the head of-“

“I know who the head of my Queen’s Guard is!” Riley slammed the file cabinet shut, “He’s in a relationship!”

“Who cares?” the bombshell brunette with a perfectly flat stomach tittered, “I’ll bet I can get him into bed in less than a week!”

“You’re fired,” Riley thrust the hiring paperwork back into her hands.

“What? Why?” Miranda’s head swiveled around in confusion.

“Come on,” Max gestured toward the door, “I’ll get you over to HR to process your termination paperwork.”    

The fourth one had actually been pretty good at the job, but after a year she had married one of the guardsmen that were always in and out of the office, gotten pregnant, and quit to be a stay at home mom.

Number five turned out to be an aspiring novelist looking for dirt on the royal family.

Number six caused a whole ass scandal by running away with the very married Count of Wickshire.

She’d finally relented and let Max do the advertising, interviewing, and hiring for the position like he’d asked to do in the first place. Max had brought all his organizational skills to the task. He had made flow charts and administered personality tests to candidates.

He’d found Martha who turned out to be a Godsend.

She wasn’t a hot guy for Liam to be jealous of, and she was old enough not to have any interest in Drake. She was also happily married, past childbearing age, and not a reporter. She was smart. And insanely good at the job.

Riley couldn’t have picked anyone better. Clearly, she couldn’t even pick anyone half as good judging by her track record. She had been abysmal at it.

But she had to admit, Max had knocked it out of the park with Martha. In the few short weeks she’d been there she had imposed order. The office now ran like a well-oiled machine.

And most importantly, to Max anyway, she ran things to his exact specifications.

Which was fine with Riley, she could give a crap less about how or where things were filed, who answered the phones, what information was placed in tabbed dividers vs filing cabinets, or which color marker was used to denote in-person meetings vs teleconferences vs conference calls.

She just wanted her agenda placed in front of her every morning, and whatever documents she asked for in her hand as quickly as they could get there.

Max had her agenda waiting for her on the breakfast table every morning and Martha did the rest.

Martha produced whatever she asked for, sometimes before she even asked for it. Her hot chai tea was on her desk every morning when she walked in the door and her messages came to her organized by priority and type.

If she ever threatened to quit Riley was giving her a raise. However much it took. A good office manager was worth their weight in gold.

Martha looked a little uncertain as she told the queen, “I’m sorry to bother you, Your Majesty, your attorney is here requesting a meeting with you, but he doesn’t have an appointment and Lord Beaumont was very specific about-“

“It’s ok, send him in! And Martha?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“He never needs an appointment and I’m always to be alerted immediately when he shows up, especially if it’s unexpected.”

“I’ll add him to the shortlist!”

The one that included the king, the head of her Queen’s Guard, and her personal assistant. Otherwise known as her husband and her two lovers. Lord Faheem was her lawyer. Was he more than that? Martha wondered, but it wasn’t her position to judge.

That was the other thing that made her a good office manager. Her extreme discretion.

“Thank you. Reschedule my next appointment and hold all my calls, unless it’s Liam, Drake, or Max.”

Martha disappeared and shortly thereafter Rashad appeared in her office.

All the stress drained right out of her body at the sight of him. “Ya helo! What are you doing here?” She sprang out of her chair, her face almost hurting from the width of the smile lighting it. She rounded the desk with purpose.

He moved toward her just as quickly, catching her in his arms. He buried his nose in her hair, his eyes falling shut as he inhaled deeply. Her scent sent sparks of joy and relief flooding through him.

He was content with the mostly solitary life he led but there was a coiled tension inside him that only released in her presence.

His queen. His lover. His best friend.

If he had a soulmate, she was it.

She relaxed into his arms and before she knew it, poured out the week’s frustration to him.

“I’m sorry,” she pulled away sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to just dump all that on you. Why are you here?”

“Ostensibly? I have those papers drawn up for you to bring a motion to change the succession laws.” Specifically, the part about having to be married to ascend the throne. It was utter bullshit and she and Liam had agreed that Ellie shouldn’t be subjected to it.

Riley raised an eyebrow, “Ostensibly, huh? What’s the real reason then?”

He could have had the papers couriered over and they both knew it.

“Because I haven’t seen you in months! Your voice on the other end of the phone wasn’t cutting it. I needed to touch you,” he confessed.

She had missed him too and now he was standing in front of her asking her to run away with him and it was oh so tempting.

“Just for the rest of the day,” he wheedled, “I’ll have you home in time to tuck Eleanor into bed!”

“I don’t want Max to worry-“

“That’s why I said leave a note. Or text him. Come on,” Rashad walked to the door and pulled her coat off the hook next to it, “let’s go.”

Riley mentally ran through her looming deadlines. There was nothing that couldn’t be done tomorrow, and Ellie was safe and happy at home with Max.

The council wanted to discuss a betrothal for the princess further, but the council could kiss her ass.

She could use a break.

“Okay,” she agreed as she joined him at the door and slipped into the coat he was holding open for her, “but whatever else we do, I need this to end somewhere no one can find us, or disturb us, preferably someplace with a fireplace, a huge bathtub and hot chocolate on tap!”

“I know just the place,” he assured her as he pulled the door open, “I’ll even throw in a foot rub, but first we’re going to get your favorite lunch.”

“Ohhh! The Lune Bleue?” It was her favorite bistro.

“Who else makes the world’s best Monte Cristo?”

“You do know me well,” she gave him her first smile of the day, then to Martha as they passed through the outer office, “Cancel everything for the rest of the day.”

She slipped her arm through his and smiled up at him, the stress from the day already draining from her body as he pulled the door open and ushered her through it, “Thank you for making time for me today. I intend to make sure you don’t regret it.”

Her fingers pressed into his arm, “And I intend to hold you to that.”

Rashad helped her into the back of a nondescript SUV then turned and quickly gave orders to her guards before climbing in behind her. His own vehicle would stay in the palace garages until they returned. The Jaguar XE SV Project 8 was his pride and joy, but it was not equipped with bulletproof glass and Liam had drawn a hard line about the vehicles that his queen rode in. Not that Rashad minded, he found it understandable, though it did rankle a little that she was able to ride in Drake’s Devore GT.

Perhaps he’d look into having bulletproof glass installed.

They both typed into their phones as they drove. Him, to give instructions to the restaurant ahead of their arrival. Her, to let Max and Liam know where she was. Her fingers hovered over Drake’s contact for a moment. There was no need to update him. He was in the middle of the ocean, and she’d be home before he would anyway.

Drake didn’t need to know she was playing hooky with Rashad.

The Lune Bleue Bistro was Riley’s favorite spot for lunch. So much so that the restaurant had added a private dining area reserved exclusively for her use so that they were always ready for a royal visit at a moment’s notice. The expenditure was easily recouped by the hordes of customers that flocked to their doors when they learned it was the queen’s luncheon spot of choice.

The SUV pulled around to the back of the establishment so Riley and Rashad could enter undetected through a private, back door. They waited until her driver got the all-clear from the head of the team that had arrived ahead of them to sweep and secure the area.

They entered the small, but elegant private dining room to find the food already on the table. Rashad pulled her chair out as he told her, “I called ahead and told them to have your usual order ready. I hope that’s satisfactory.”

“It’s more than satisfactory, thank you, this is just what I needed.”

The man and woman that sat across from each other at the table both occupied high-powered, high-stress jobs. They both spent all day, every day making decisions that had far-reaching consequences.

Rashad enjoyed the pressure, he thrived under it. He was excruciatingly detailed oriented, having exacting standards for both himself and others. He enjoyed and needed control over almost every aspect of his life, it energized him, but it could be hard to turn it off and everyone needed downtime once in a while. The one place he could let go of all that and truly relax was the bedroom, but only with her. It was shocking how quickly he always slipped into subspace with her. She was where he found peace, solace, and a quieting of his ever-spinning mind.

In direct opposition to Rashad’s need to micro-manage every aspect of his life, Riley would have been happy to chuck all the responsibilities of ruling and live her life as a vagabond, a free spirit, going wherever and wherever the mood struck her.

She did the job she did for Liam. He had needed a queen and he had insisted it be her and despite all her protestations in the beginning, she did love him.

Max and Martha did the micro-managing for her so she could focus on the big picture. She was great at thinking outside the box, coming up with not always obvious solutions and innovations. But then she liked to hand them off to someone else to implement. She didn’t like to be bothered with the details.

She enjoyed being in control in the bedroom, but outside of it, she got tired of the constant bombardment of decisions and responsibilities so far from being annoyed by what some women might see as heavy-handedness, she quite enjoyed it when Rashad took over the small, mundane choices so she didn’t have to.

Issuing orders to her guards, choosing the restaurant, picking the food…these were small acts of love as far as she was concerned. And he was good at it because he knew her preferences. It was perhaps the one thing he had in common with Drake.

They took their time with lunch, lingering over dessert, and catching up with each other. Riley showed him recent photos and videos of Ellie and he reciprocated with photos of his nieces and nephews.

“I have a surprise for you,” he told her as they prepared to leave, “something I’d like your input on.”

“Color me intrigued! What is it?”

He smiled indulgently, “You’ll have to wait until we get there!”

***

The crown-issued SUV turned off the main highway a few miles outside of the capital and wound its way down several smaller roads before turning onto a private drive. Riley sat up and looked around curiously. It looked very familiar. The driveway was long and windy, but as they pulled around the last curve and the house came into view, Riley drew in a surprised gasp, “Rashad! What is this? Why are we here?”

“Well, it recently came on the market, and I put an offer on it.”

A delighted laugh escaped her as the SUV rolled to a stop in front of the estate. “But why?”

He gave her a hesitant smile as he opened the door and climbed out. Hopping to the ground, he turned back and offered her his hand, “I remembered how much you said you liked it when I rented it for you and Max that time.”

She took his hand and climbed out of the vehicle, “Wait…you bought it for…me?”

“Us,” he felt heat creep up his neck as he explained, “I love our trips abroad, but I’d like to see you more often when we’re both home in Cordonia. This is close enough to Stormholt City to be a quick, easy drive, but secluded enough to give us all the privacy we could want.”

The press watched his penthouse like hawks because of those stupid most eligible bachelor in Cordonia articles and the palace presented its own set of impediments, mainly Drake’s disapproval. They could only be seen together so much in public in the capital outside of business meetings or luncheons.

“Are the peacocks still here?” she asked curiously, glancing around as they made their way to the entryway.

“Yes, but put up in heated pens for the winter,” he pulled the door open for her.

She stepped out of the sharp cold and into the soft warmth of the interior, “And it doesn’t bother you that Max and I used it for a rendezvous?”

“No. Does it bother you?” He closed the door and turned to face her, pulling his coat off then reaching for hers. He hung them both up as he asked, “Do you consider it a special place for the two of you?”

“No,” she shook her head, “We were only here the one time.” She and Max had their own special places, but this wasn’t one of them.

“Okay, good,” he let out a sigh of relief as he followed her down the entryway, “So what do you think?”

“About what, exactly?”

“As I said, I put in an offer, and they accepted it, all I have to do is sign off on it to finalize the sale. I took early possession because I wanted your input first.” The sale could still be voided if she didn’t like it.

He was nervous. He had sent women flowers before, jewelry upon occasion, and he’d never second-guessed his choices for either. What he had never done before was buy an entire estate for a woman. He’d also never cared so much about her response.

She stopped in her tracks as they entered the living room. There was a fire already roaring in the fireplace, “How-“

“I texted ahead and had the caretaker start the fire. I also had him stock the kitchen with all the necessary supplies for hot chocolate. Now, I know I can’t make it like Hana can but-“

She spun around and threw her arms around him, cutting him off with a kiss. He drew her closer in his embrace as he responded to the kiss in kind.

When the kiss finally broke, he leaned his forehead against hers, both of them grinning from ear to ear, “So, you like it?”

She traced a finger along his lower lip, “I love it, ya helo, sign the papers.”

“I’ll call the realtor while I make the hot chocolate. Why don’t you go take a bath? You remember where the master bedroom is?”

“Of course but I need-“

“All of your favorite personal hygiene items are already in there. The dresser and closet have been stocked with clothing in your size.”

“Now I know you didn’t get all that accomplished over lunch!”

“No,” he admitted, “Those items were delivered this morning. I had my personal assistant purchase them. I wanted to be prepared just in case.”

“Hm,” she pushed away from him, “Well you did deliver on everything I asked for today, and then some, so what do you say we wait on the hot chocolate, and you join me for that bath?”

“I say I’ll submit to whatever you command, my queen.”

A shiver of desire slid down her spine as she laced her fingers through his, “Come on then, let’s go christen this bitch!”

She led him up the stairs, giddiness swirling through her. She couldn’t and didn’t try to suppress the smile that lit up her face at the turn the afternoon had taken. She was so happy she had decided to run away with him, if only for the day.

#bad romance #choicesprompts #trr au #trr poly #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #angelasscribbles #why choose

[xinxiaogato]

— live to tell the tail

summary. you unfortunately lived in a universe where general gorou had found out ms. hina was… himself. and just your luck: gorou’s first impression of you was a crazed devotee of the ms. hina fan club, but you had only been in the wrong place at the wrong time. will you live to tell the tail?

love interests. gn!reader x a watatsumi general, an inazuman vagrant, the balladeer, and the kreideprinz.

warnings. infinite pet puns, referenced character death, weapons, swearing, blood, alcohol, harassment, and mentions of war.

word count. 2,252

chapter fourteen ⌇ the leash i can do

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you could still recall the bewilderment you felt from meeting the traveler for the first time that fateful day, and there had been so much you wanted to say to them. so much you wanted to thank them for.

but as the muscle in the traveler's jaw went taut when shigeru’s zest came seeping out, you knew it wasn’t worth piling stuff onto their plate.

“homesick?”

gorou had noticed you ogling at the enthusiasm practically radiating off the recruits, which pulled you out of your woolgathering. you whispered in surprise, “how did you know, sir?”

“just a guess,” he intuited.

the general unceremoniously plopped down on a wooden crate and heaved a sigh that deflated his whole body. you were meaning to ask him if you did an okay job today, but unsure of the right timing, you timidly took a seat on the barrel beside him.

“my life wasn’t so hectic as it is now,” gorou said after a long silence, the strain in his voice quite palpable. “i was a regular soldier from a small village, like those people you just trained.”

your eyes followed his line of sight to the men in question, who were more or less goofing around and brawling with each other in the dirt. picturing gorou as one of them—blithe and carefree—was a bit heartrending, as he was probably reminiscing about the same thing.

“but when the captain of my unit fell during a special operation, i had no other choice but to step forward as the new leader,” gorou went on, a myriad of emotions displayed on his face. “i’m now the general of the army, and it’s my calling in life to give others strength…

“but i sometimes just want to be a little kid curled up in my mom’s lap as she berates my siblings for being too loud again.” gorou threw a sheepish smile your way. “things are peaceful now though, so i can’t be too nostalgic.”

you wondered why this young man had chosen to confide in you. was he encouraging you to open up about how you were feeling?

“...i’m actually from mondstadt, so i miss seeing my family, too.”

the last word came out croaky. you thought about what your father must have gone through under the possession of the fatui and whether you could have done more to help him.

in actuality, if your father hadn’t persisted on moving with you to inazuma for your dream job, he would be alive and well.

but the longer you dwelled on this fact, the sicker your stomach felt. you decided to bury your forebodings for now.

“mondstadt?” gorou parroted like you just dropped a bombshell on him. “since when did you arrive here?”

“...hmm, it’s been about a year,” you weighed up, picking at the fraying ends of your haori overcoat. “i unfortunately got to inazuma right after the sakoku decree was implemented.”

walking through the streets of ritou, which teemed with people from all walks of life, had made it clear to gorou that the citizens from mondstadt, liyue, fontaine, sumeru—they embellished pride within their hearts for their hometowns and wore the clothes crafted by tailors from their respective regions. merchants from the land of commerce arrayed themselves in traditional tangzhuang, and researchers from sumeru academia donned shawls made of pashmina.

however, his eyes swept over your kimono, which showed no signs of your alleged place of origin.

not wanting this conversation with you to grow stale, gorou blundered out, “reader… um, is there a reason you opted to wear inazuman attire?”

your fingers paused on the loose threads you had been toying with. 

“...i still wonder that as well,” you replied. “a year ago, i arrived at the port in a dirndl, which is a folk-style dress from my hometown. at first, i didn’t feel scared to be in a new place since i spotted some adventurers from the guild’s mondstadt branch. y’know, in their super bright green clothes…

“...but their stares were just as cold as the officers’ from the tri-commission. i guess the tension between foreigners and the shogunate was already on the rise. the sakoku decree was executed by the raiden shogun right after, and settling down in inazuma got way harder for me. because of my clothes…”

because of your clothes, they were telltale signs that made you the elephant in the room—getting called names, having others ignore you more times than you could count, being the butt of every joke…

and all the nonnatives were financially struggling because of the mandate. shop owners would leer at you and ask if you even had enough money to buy their goods.

so although the storm barrier around the nation was officially quelled by raiden ei, its strength was no match for the resentment you felt while the decree was enacted. the inazumans’ perception of outlanders stuck knives into your heart, yet all you could do was seethe quietly every day, wishing for a better tomorrow.

but whilst dredging up the past now, you didn’t really feel as angry as before.

finally, you told gorou, “because of my clothes, i was not treated very well, and although i wanted to be a proud mondstadter… someone reasoned with me that it would be better off borrowing their sister’s wardrobe.”

that someone was hotaru, who could no longer tolerate how people were conducting themselves in your presence. his last straw was when a shogunate officer dropped their fisherman’s toast on your shoes near shimura’s restaurant and told you to clean it up because they assumed you were a maid on your way to work.

gorou’s tail was thumping against the crate he was sitting on with fluctuating intensity throughout your lamentation. now, it was incredibly still. his whole body was incredibly still.

yet he felt like he was going to implode any second.

you couldn’t tell what thoughts were streaming through gorou’s head, however, because his face was stoic.

you swatted at the air like you were getting rid of an annoying pest. “sorry, i didn’t mean to dampen the mood, but let’s let bygones be bygones.” nowadays, you were a super glamorous and successful celebrity person with fans on their hands and knees asking for your hotaru's autograph.

gorou, however, did not share your sentiments about these bygones and simply said what was on his mind—a trademark habit of his that kazuha had pointed out to him before. “reader, i think you should wear your dirndl again.”

…

…

…

“what, do i not look good in a kimono…?” you asked in magnified alarm, hand over your heart.

gorou violently shook his head. “h-huh? hang on, i didn’t mean that!”

although you had only been joking, the pink hue glowing in the general’s cheeks made your eyes twinkle like mad. you couldn’t help but bend toward gorou and tease his heart—partially as payback for what he did to your heart last night. “or are you excited to see me in my dirndl?”

“you’re wrong!” gorou cried out. 

“oh, so you aren’t excited…”

“no, reader, i think you would look great in anything!”

he did not mean to say that.

“wait… d-don’t take that the wrong way! i… what i meant was…!” gorou’s eyebrows meshed together. has the spirit of lady yae possessed you!? “reader, i deeply apologize! it wasn’t my intention to speak out of line. you can…”

his ears drooped in defeat. “y-you can file a report to the tenryou commission…” he murmured.

you spontaneously cracked up to put an end to the farce, which seriously threw gorou for a loop. “i’m kidding, general! it was just funny to see a different side of you.”

scarlet blooming on his cheeks and arms folding across his chest, gorou let out a small “hmph!” with a voice laced in contempt before collecting himself. “in any case… i can’t fathom the shogunate’s audacity to act that way toward you. those officers shouldn’t even be employed right now if they are capable of such indecency. if i find those people…! grrr…”

this man did not just growl.

“...people can change,” you reasoned. “after all, those officers were only complying with the raiden shogun’s decree.”

“i know, but…” gorou shifted on the crate to directly lock eyes with you. “that doesn’t justify how they must have made you feel… you deserve to wear whatever you like. speak however you like. be whoever you like. even if you’re registered here as an ‘outlander’, you’re equally as human as the next person.”

…preach, sister hina.

you didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to see that he truly befitted the nation’s beloved advice columnist. the fondness you felt for gorou’s visceral yet genuine reaction was second to none, but you noticed his antagonism of the officers was stark in contrast to how thoma had viewed them.

months ago, the kamisato clan’s housekeeper resolved an issue between you and an officer, who kept pestering you for an i.d. card because the guy swore he had never seen your face before. to return the favor, you carried boxes of gunpowder and mortar tubes to naganohara fireworks with thoma and learned that he hailed from the free city as well. 

but in spite of thoma’s highly esteemed standing as the “fixer” of inazuma, the yashiro commission representatives tittle-tattled about him whenever they thought he wasn’t nearby. 

“we have people like that to thank for the decline of the samurai spirit in this day and age.”

“i heard he’s mondstadt born and bred… just saying.”

“what do you think miss kamisato even sees in that guy?”

you had asked thoma what he did to ward them off, which had him replying with a light shrug, “i don’t mind their words. if you let their negativity get under your skin, it gets harder to remember all the good people who have helped you in the past, and i think they are what is most important in life. i really only care about how my close friends and i view me.”

those parting words of wisdom left no doubt in your mind that the kamisato clan was in good hands. yes, you still regularly wore the traditional clothes of inazuma to appease your overprotective boss, but thoma’s advice had genuinely struck a chord with you.

afraid that gorou may hunt down some unknowing officials, you planned to relay to him that you didn’t really give two boba balls about what the shogunate thought now, but gorou was suddenly up on his feet.

“reader, you deserve a proper welcome,” he emphatically declared, one hand outstretched toward you. “after your training is over, i want to invite you to my hometown on watatsumi island. the people there will love you; i’m sure of it!"

your eyes darted from his face to his hand and then back to his face in sheer astonishment. “s-sir, that’s so kind of you…!”

you tentatively curl your fingers around his and stand up from the barrel, feeling a bit jittery on the inside. words almost completely eluded you until you managed to pull yourself together. “um… so you like mountaineering, right? since the sakoku decree has been annulled and all, we should travel to dragonspine someday! it's the mountain range near the city of mondstadt, and the summits there are suuuper high…! oh, wait.”

quickly, you fell into deep thought while still holding his hand, and gorou cocked his head expectantly. 

“it is super cold though,” you brought into consideration. “it’s not going to be so easy for us to live, laugh, love in those conditions. does the fur on your ears and tail help keep you warm?” 

your other hand subconsciously lifted to touch the fluffy ears atop the general’s head. gorou felt his body waver between reeling back from your touch and yielding to it.

his free hand shot up to capture your wrist, but as soon as your fingers interlaced with his silky fur, a shiver ran down his spine.

“wow, so soft…” you mumbled.

“w-wait, reader…!”

across the field were a few lingering novices, their minds completely enraptured by the idea of becoming full-fledged watatsumi soldiers. the one with a taper fade as his hairstyle noticed you gleefully ruffling the fluffy ear of the general, who was (strangely) not backing off.

taper fade chortled, “reader must have caught wind of the rumor. do you think the general would let us rub his ears for good luck, too?”

“hey, who is reader by the way?” asked long fringe bangs. “i thought general gorou would be training us, not him training reader to train us…”

“not so sure,” taper fade contemplated. “judging by the way gorou kept secretly looking at reader during yesterday’s meeting, i thought they were his significant other, but i overheard a senior say that reader is here ‘undercover’ for her excellency. whatever that means.”

“undercover?” disconnected undercut scoffed while spinning an arrow around his middle finger. “who would’ve thought? they really do look so... normal though. i guess that’s why madam kokomi chose them.”

his eyes flitted away and latched onto the training dummy near you and gorou. a lightbulb flicked on above his head.

“hey, you two wanna make a bet with me?”

the last thing you were expecting to see past gorou’s head was disconnected undercut aiming his bow straight at the canine general himself.

“get down!”

“huh?”

without a second guess, you shoved gorou to the side, and a profusion of pain exploded in your right shoulder.

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#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #gorou x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #albedo x reader #fluff #crack #comfort #angst #stella writes — ! #live to tell the tail

[jimblejamblewritings]

not a soldat | part 7.

Summary: Y/N L/N is not a superhero. No serums, no agencies. Just a civilian from a long line of family that’s served in the military. Y/N’s a history buff and bit of a spy in her own special way. This somehow lands her in trouble she never saw coming and straight into the hands of Falcon, Captain America, and Black Widow… if she doesn’t get caught in the unbreakable grasp of the Winter Soldier first.

Warning for the Series: violence, angst, slow burn

Pairing: Bucky x black!reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

They wouldn’t let you see Bucky. Ross didn’t care what deals they had made with you. After you had heard he and Steve landed in the water from a helicopter crash that Steve caused, they wouldn’t let you see him. And unfortunately the Avengers seemed to agree because of your lack of any sort of super power— even Nick.

“The minute we know he’s not the Winter Soldier, we let you in to see him. Okay?”

You were surprised the Secretary of State was on your side. You had really freaked him and the rest of the UN out, now they wanted to do whatever stayed on your good side. And it seemed that your good side had everything to do with Barnes— even after they were sure he almost killed you. It started with them getting the press to clear Bucky’s name. Albeit, that process was going very slow.

Maybe it wasn’t fair, potentially even selfish, but Steve went inside the room to see Bucky first before you. You felt a bit of betrayal as he took Sam with him. Nat put a hand on your shoulder in an attempt for comfort. You watched as Bucky rattled off facts about him, things you couldn’t find in a museum. Things only Steve and Bucky knew— and you from transcribing his journal.

“And just like that we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam asked.

“What did I do?” Bucky asked, eyes pleading.

“Enough,” Steve responded.

“Oh, God, I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there and all he had to do was say some bullshit words.”

“Who was he?”

“I don’t know.”

“People died for this man to get ten minutes with you. We need better than that, Buck.”

“He wanted to know about Siberia,” Bucky tried to recall. In Winter Soldier mode, he blacked out mostly. “Where I was kept, exactly where.”

“Why would he need to know that?”

“Because he’s not the only Winter Soldier,” you whispered at the same time Bucky said it.

The hand Nat had on your shoulder clenched up. They all looked around at each other. Steve and Sam looked back at the two way mirror. If Bucky wasn’t the only one, the world was screwed. It was something you had just finished uncovering in a waterlogged HYDRA file that came your way. Ross, Nick, and the secretary turned to you.

“If you hadn’t attacked I would’ve been able to send you that information.”

Ross went in and kicked Steve and Sam out. Sam and Steve walked back into the room, communicating to the rest of the Avengers team with just nods.

“Where is she?” Bucky asked.

“What the hell do you know about the other soldiers? We need to know this, Barnes.”

“Where is she? Is she okay?”

Ross looked around, exasperated, before turning to face the mirror. “Send (Y/N) in.”

Ross watched as you walked in. You held out a hand and after a defiant look he settled and gave you the key before leaving. Bucky watched you step further into the room, finally in a different dress.

“This a smart idea?” the secretary asked Ross.

For once everyone agreed, the Avengers were concerned about you. They watched as you unlocked Bucky’s cuffs. He didn’t move, they weren’t even sure if he was breathing as you stepped near him.

“No,” Ross said. “He makes a move to kill her and we’re screwed.”

“Barnes trusts her. He was alone in Romania but opened up to her. I don’t think he would do that,” Nat said.

“He stopped attacking her. She said he recognized her even as the Winter Soldier.”

Nick and Ross looked at Steve. He had dropped a bombshell and everyone knew it. This wasn’t the first time Bucky seemed to have a moment of clarity while in Soldier mode— and not the first time with you.

“So he’s the only one he’ll speak to,” Ross said.

“Even if he knows the rest of us are behind this glass?” Nick questioned.

They watched you sit on the floor, tucking your dress into your lap to keep everything hidden and protected. Everyone collectively relaxed as Bucky slowly sunk to the floor and sat cross-legged across from you.

“Do you have it?” he asked.

You nodded and took the knife from the thigh strap. Bucky nodded as he saw it.

“Don’t put it up,” he said as you went to place it back into its place.

“You won’t hurt me, Bucky.”

“I did hurt you.”

“Bucky didn’t hurt me, whatever that man did to you hurt me. The Winter Soldier hurt me.”

Bucky swallowed and looked down. He pulled down the long sleeve of his shirt to hide the metal arm as best as he could when you subconsciously rubbed at your neck.

“Soldat stopped him.”

Bucky looked up again.

“I’m okay, so please don’t beat yourself up, Bucky.”

“But I…”  

Everyone on the other side of the mirror froze as you slid the knife over to Bucky. Sam had one hand on the door ready to race in.

“Then hurt me, Bucky… no? You didn’t and you won’t. Stand up, please.”

He wouldn’t move until you picked up the knife. You put it back in the thigh strap but it was good enough for him. Bucky followed where you directed him, getting almost uncomfortably close to the mirror making the secretary back up even though he wasn’t in the room. No one on the other side knew what you were doing as you walked behind Bucky. He wouldn’t talk and you knew it.

You knew he was aware of all of them on the other side— if he didn’t before, the rotating door of people before you that came in was definitely a big clue. You needed Bucky to be comfortable and to open up again. Everyone on the other side of the glass looked in mild surprise at the sight in front of them.

“Did he just crack a smile?” Tony asked.

Bucky couldn’t help it as he felt your heavy head when your forehead landed on his back. You breathed out a large sigh.

“I’m cold.”

“It’s an interrogation room, printesa.”

“When are you going to teach me Romanian?”

“I’ll start tomorrow. Heard Sam call you Caliber. That nickname related to what I think it is?”

“Only arrows and a twenty-two.”

“How good?”

“Eight rounds to the head, seven to the chest.”

“Moving target?”

“Can hit a kill zone if I really tried.”

“Why haven’t we bought you a gun yet instead of just the knife.”

You chuckled slightly before getting serious now that Bucky was warmed up.

“Will you tell me about the others?”

They watched Bucky stiffen slightly before relaxing. He turned his head slightly to try and look at you. You slipped your hand into his flesh one, another sight that surprised them all. Bucky faced forward again but wouldn’t let go of your hand. Ross and Sharon took notes as Bucky spoke, your mumbles and noises to let him know you were listening spurred him to continue talking. Notebooks didn’t do justice to what Bucky remembered. You tapped his hand in the same pattern that you would knock on his door, twice and then once, as he talked about the training he put the others through.

“But they were unstable at times. However, HYDRA’s most elite death squad was too good for them to kill the programs. My kills look like nothing in comparison to them and that was before the serum.”

“Are they all like you?”

“Worse. They speak thirty languages, can hide in plain sight, destabilize. You can take down a whole country with the documents you have but that would still take months… they need one night.”

“And would the doctor be able to control them?”

“Enough.”

“And they all used your trigger words, everyone’s under the same control?”

“To activate them, yes. To turn it off, we’re all on different triggers.”

“Thank you for telling me, Bucky… I’m still cold.”

He huffed out something the others could compare to a laugh. You tapped Bucky’s hand in the pattern once more before removing your hand from his.

“What is about her?” Nick asked. “She gets everyone to open up.”

The secretary looked at where you had peeked out from behind Bucky. “When this is all over, I want her moved up from just the historian.”

“Sir, (Y/N) has no training,” Sharon said. “There’s a reason she didn’t join the military like the rest of her family. Are we about to throw her into a life that she stayed away from. For what? Interrogations and decoding?”

“She stopped being a civilian the minute HYDRA had a target on her. The whole goddamn UN knows her name, so we train her but she clearly can’t go back to normal… if we’re going after the other Winter Soldiers, we need more than just you guys.”

“The Accords haven’t been redone.”

“Congrats, Captain Rogers. This is your last off-grid mission, round up anyone else you can and stop them. I’ll get the UN on the phone, schedule a hearing in a few days for when you get back.”

They shut up when you and Bucky entered. Any potential crack of emotion they saw from Bucky through the mirror was gone the minute he stepped into the room with anyone that wasn’t you or Steve. Ross eyed him.

“You know we need him. If we’re going to stop the others, he’s the best lead we have.”

“Absolutely not,” Steve said.

“With all due respect, I wasn’t asking. (Y/N) has to come too. She would stay on the quinjet,” Ross quickly said before the protests could leave their mouths. “But if she’s the only one who can crack through Barnes even a little bit, she stays as close to him as possible.”

Everyone nodded and started planning how to get home and find any other superheroes they knew, as well as getting Wanda, Clint, and Vision from the compound. T’Challa approached you and Bucky.

“I would like to give my sincere apologies to you both. If you ever need anything, do not hesitate to find me.”

“You won’t fight?”

“I think I need to be with my people currently.”

~~

You were in a hotel room next to Bucky’s. Since they were headed to Moscow it was agreed that you and Bucky would stay in Berlin while the others gathered who they could. Bucky hesitantly knocked on your door. You opened without hesitation, he still wasn’t sure around you after what happened. Bucky looked at the attire you were given, pants for once but still not dressed down.

“Should we order room service?” you asked.

“Whatever you want.”

You flipped through the menu, ordering for both of you before hanging up. It was silent until the food came but not the good silent that was usually between the two of you.

“I don’t like whatever Bucky this is.”

“Why did you trust me? The only person still trying is Steve but I knew him before. Why you? Your first memory of me was a headlock.”

“And my second memory was you dropping Steve at my feet, checking that he was still breathing before handing me a knife to protect myself. Whatever made you remember Steve told you that you could trust me. And then in Romania. Bucky you’ve never once done anything outside of a mind control situation that made me scared of you.”

“But if I can’t stop. Those words.”

“We’ll stop them all then.”

Bucky laughed at your tenacity. He watched you clear the plates and take the tray to place outside the door. When you sat back on the bed, you weren’t expecting Bucky to shove something in your hand. You looked to see his tags.

“Bucky.”

“I know that there’s a chance I snap at any moment. As long as someone out there knows those words then I’m not safe. No one is with the Winter Soldier still out of my control. Keep it, I want someone to remember James Buchanan Barnes. I trust you with my life.”

“You know you’re technically active duty right?” you tried to joke.

“Avengers ain’t the military, printesa. I’m a vet from that. Never looking back.”

You put the chain on and tucked the tags under your shirt. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at that, most people if given tags would wear them out but you tucked them in like they were your own.

~~

The quinjet made you nervous no matter how much bulletproof stuff they put on you. It didn’t help that Tony discovered the doctor who interviewed Bucky wasn’t the actual doctor— the real man was found dead in his hotel bathtub. Whoever interviewed Bucky was named Zemo, a man that lost his family in Sokovia. A man that blamed the Avengers and wanted to destroy them from within and almost succeeded. But since there was a breakthrough, his only other option was to release Winter Soldiers on the world. It was either bring the fight to him or let the soldiers out— he wasn’t going to stop until the Avengers were over.

You were equipped with a comm and placed in between several Avengers. The quinjet couldn’t stay on the snowy peak so you had to exit with them but they left you in a hidden corridor and gave you a comm to hear everything. Bucky shoved a small handgun in your hand before disappearing with the others.

You listened over the comm to the monologuing and then the sounds of fighting. You couldn’t tell who was winning but considering every Avengers’ breath could be heard in your ear, you knew they were all alive— not without injury, you had heard the crash of Rhodey hit the floor when a soldier took out his legs. And then it got quiet for a moment.

“No,” you heard Tony whisper.

What you couldn’t see was that despite being engaged in a fight with the other Winter Soldiers, the Avengers couldn’t currently get to Zemo who was in a safe bunker watching the action. Zemo played a video. You heard the constant apologies of Bucky and the quiet sobs of Tony. And then even Tony’s sobs stopped as you heard the first word of Russian come from Zemo’s mouth.

“Longing.”

(Part 8)...

#bucky x reader #avengers fic #marvel fic

[cassteph]

— Roleplay Call !

For the roleplay server I run with my friends, we have a lot of characters we would love to see join. The general plot is Marvel's Earth-616 and DC's Prime Earth exist side by side, and the heroes (and villains) are meeting each other. If there's someone not on the list that you're curious about, don't be afraid to reach out to ask.

(Marvel lists, then DC).

We would love to see...

Avengers Members such as Janet van Dyne, Wonder Man, Hercules, Hellcat, Tigra, Spectrum, War Machine, Squirrel Girl, Jack of Hearts

Fantastic Four members such as Sue Storm, Johnny Storm, and Ben Grimm.

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. such as Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Alphonso Mackenzie, Elena "Yo-Yo" Rodriguez, Mike Peterson/Deathlok, The Koenigs,

Young Avengers characters such as Wiccan/Billy Kaplan, America Chavez, Stature/Cassie Lang, Patriot/Eli Bradley, Hulking/Teddy Altman, Iron Lad/Nathaniel Richards, Jonas/Vision, David Alleyne/Prodigy.

Champions such as Viv, Nova, Nadia Van Dyne, Ironheart, Rayshaun Lucas, Starling, Bombshell, Brawn, the Locust, Pinpoint, Power Man, Snowguard.

X-Men & Associates such as Beast, Professor X, Storm, Colossus, Jubilee, Dazzler, Banshee, Thunderbird, Psylocke, Bishop, Cable, Emma Frost, Moonstar, Mystique, Pixie, Armor, Magma, Moira MacTaggert, Multiple Man, Siryn, Dust.

Justice League Members such as Plastic Man, Hal Jordan, the Flash, Cyborg, Vixen, Hawkman, Booster Gold, Atom, Elongated Man, Firestorm, Mister Miracle, Fire, Captain Atom, Ice, Animal Man, Doctor Fate, Big Barda, Black Lightning, Stargirl, Doctor Light, Adam Strange.

Green Lanterns such as Simon Baz, previously mentioned Hal Jordan, Kyle Rayner, John Stewart, Kilowog, Arisia.

Green Arrow Family & Associates such as Emiko Queen, John Diggle, and Connor Hawke.

More Information on the Server

#roleplay call #dc #marvel #comics #crossover rp #dc rp #marvel rp #roleplay server #rp #dc comics #marvel comics #justice league #avengers #fantastic four #x-men #champions #young avengers #young justice #titans #teen titans #green arrow #lantern corps #Superman #batman #captain America #iron man #marvel 616 #dc prime earth

[rotten-hearts-sharp-teeth]

10 inspired their creation

sabine

besides being for xcanons where do her specific inspirations lie

10. What inspired this character's creation?

Creating Sabine was a journey! It really started with me wondering why the manga version of the Captain looked so sad and unhappy. Me being the romantic (heh) that I am, I started to think up a story involving lost love. Originally I was going to do an x reader, but talking with you about it I decided to make a character.

So then I had to figure out what would draw his attention. I settled on the second voice theory and decided the OC needed to be a singer. The time frame set up a chance for me to use the 50s lounge singer aesthetic and I went for it.

Basically, Sabine's inspo's were:

Cabaret with Liza Minnelli (specifically the song Maybe this Time)

this hottie from ghost ship

And the bombshell performer aesthetic in general. Everything else about Sabine has just kind of developed naturally

#thanks for the ask! #sabine #hellsing #hellsing oc

[peacelovengranola]

💍Engaged💍

-From that B99 quote

#stony #stevetony #steve x tony #superhusbands #tony stark #steve rogers #captain america #iron man #mcu #marvel #stony fanart #lasting thought #my headcannon is that #Steve starts to ask philosophical questions #only 3 year olds and geriatric blond bombshells can sincerely ask #and Tony decides to follow the sacred advice of Beyoncé and but a ring on it #fanart #otp #my art

[fangzeronos]

I think I got a Funko Pop Problem....

We got:

Arrowverse Firestorm Arrowverse Green Arrow Arrowverse White Canary Assassin's Creed Aguilar ATLA Avatar Korra Back To The Future Doc Brown Bombshells Batgirl Bombshells Duela Dent Bombshells Harley Quinn Bombshells Hawkgirl Bombshells Wonder Woman Borderlands Claptrap Borderlands Female Psycho Borderlands Lilith Borderlands Maya Borderlands Moxxi DC Freddy Shazam DC Joker (Imposter Batman) DC Kid Flash Destiny Cayde-6 Destiny Hawthorne Destiny Ikora Rey Destiny Lord Shaxx Destiny Osiris Destiny Sweeper-Bot Destiny Zavala FNAF Funtime Foxy Fullmetal Alchemist King Bradley Marvel Black Widow (Civil War) Marvel Groot (Guardians of the Galaxy) Marvel Mr. Sinister Marvel Nick Fury (Captain Marvel) Marvel Yon-Rog (Captain Marvel) Mass Effect Sara Ryder N7 Megaman Megaman Mortal Kombat Raiden Overwatch Ana Overwatch Brigitte Overwatch D.Va Overwatch Doomfist Overwatch Genji Overwatch Hanzo Overwatch Junkrat Overwatch Lucio Overwatch McCree (Summer Games) Overwatch Mercy Overwatch Orisa (6 inch Super Sized) Overwatch Reaper Overwatch Soldier: 76 (Summer Games) Overwatch Sombra Overwatch Symmetra Overwatch Torbjorn Overwatch Tracer (Punk Variant) Overwatch Widowmaker (White Variant) Overwatch Zarya Power Rangers Blue Ranger Power Rangers Kimberly (Helmetless) Power Rangers Red Ranger Power Rangers White Tigerzord (6 inch Super Sized) Power Rangers Yellow Ranger Power Rangers Zack (Helmetless) Spider-Verse Gwen Stacy Star Wars Han Solo (Snow Gear) Ultraman Ultraman Jack Yu-Gi-Oh! Yami Yugi

#Power Rangers #Arrowverse #Legends of Tomorrow #DC Bombshells #Overwatch #Avatar The Last Airbender #Legend of Korra #Borderlands #Marvel Cinematic Universe #X-Men #Guardians of the Galaxy #Captain America Civil War #Young Justice #Mortal Kombat #Into The Spider-Verse #Ultraman #Megaman #Five Nights at Freddys #Star Wars #Assassins Creed #Back to the Future #Shazam #Mass Effect Andromeda #Yu-Gi-Oh! #DC Comics #Captain Marvel #Destiny #Batman

[nicolereallyhot]

Vanessa is the best choni fan ever lol

Btw I will love to see something like that 😈

#choni #choni au #choni fanfic #riverdale choni #choniedit #chonidale #riverdale #cheryl blossom #cheryl x toni #cheryl bombshell #toni topaz #lesbian #lesbian denvers #supercorp #wayhaught #cophine #clexa #sylena #captain swan #captain marvel #fuck the prom #vanessa morgan #madelaine petsch #madenessa #gay #caroldanvers #gay shit #gay lord #meme choni #lesbianshit