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#i kept with the angel mission one but i hate all of the men in this show theyre annoying me to no end and its not as.... fulfilling as
thegirlisuedtobe · 1 year
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ah I realised why I like shin hye sun so much, she reminds me of park ji yeon 💖💖💞💞💞
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ladyelissarose · 1 year
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‘I Want Him’ 
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Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x pre-established relationship reader - callsign ‘Angel’
Summary: After saving an orphaned baby from a hostage situation, you realize how much of your heart had fallen in love with him. You really want to keep him as your own, but what will Ghost say?
Warnings: mentions of hostage situations, mentions of horrible past, an argument between Ghost and Reader ‘Angel’, FLUFF in the end!
5 weeks had passed ever sense the 141 Task Force had emerged into a mission and came out successful. Laswell had sent them to rescue hostages that were being kept hidden by the Cartels. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley and his partner Y/n ‘Angel’ Y/l/n were the first to run inside the abandoned building, they had been tight partners for the past 2 years, and did everything together, one another’s shadow. Though the pair weren’t married or gave their ‘relationship’ a name, everyone knew that they were for one another and no one else, their actions towards each other spoke enough about the untold and undeniable love they had. Simon always made sure Angel was in sight, not because he didn’t trust her (for he trusted her wholly and had told and showed her many things he had never done with another soul) but he didn’t trust the world that revolved around her. Angel was a gentle person at heart, and still had a lot of good in her, and Simon feared that the dark world that couldn’t penetrate her light, might want to take it instead. He was the one that chose to shield her burning light, as she warmed and brightened up his cold and dark heart. But though they loved each other and respected one another’s wishes, sometimes they had their disagreements, like when Simon had seen Angel grow close to a baby boy they had rescued along with the other hostages, he didn’t like that. Not because he didn’t like seeing Angel happy, cause boy you better believe that he lived off her smile and rare giggles, but he thought that keeping the little baby wouldn’t be a good idea, concerning the lives they lived. The little baby named Noah was the only one left behind, for no one claimed him as their own, hence leaving him to stay with the 141 Task Force until someone could pick him up. And it had been 5 weeks and still no one got him, but Angel was the first to welcome Noah and get him used to be around all the men that were rowdy and loud, she always fed him and kept him company. But Simon didn’t like how much she enjoyed being with Noah, he could already imagine the never ending fountain of tears she’d cry when Noah had to go. And the last thing he hated seeing on Angel, was blood and tears. So right now little Noah was laying asleep in a quiet room, while Simon and Angel argued with one another after he caught her for the 6th time in the day carrying him and playing with him, after Simon warned her to stop because he didn’t want the baby to grow close to her, and her to him. 
 Angel held onto Noah’s blue baby blanket as she sat on the floor surrounded by handmade puppets she created out of Simon’s socks, crying as Simon explained to her for the 100th time it seemed,
  “Angel, love.. I told you I didn’t want you with him, he’s fine on his own, alone. Yet here you are making a mess for him.”
  Angel picked up the puppets as she sniffed,
  “I wasn’t making a mess, I was trying to make him happy-“
 “But that’s not your job, you’re job is to be looking for a family-“
  Standing up abruptly with a growing anger Angel shouted,
 “And I’ve done everything I can!!”
Simon bit back how he wanted to yell back at her, but he knew it wouldn’t make the situation better, so instead he calmly said,
 “I don’t think so Angel... its been 5 weeks-“
Angel huffed,
 “5 weeks of looking and I haven’t found a home for him-“
 Simon ended her rant when he asked a serious question, knowing Angel’s answer damn well,
 “Because you want to keep him right?”
 Angel’s face dropped, she was caught. Yes, she had been looking for a home for Noah, or a safer place for him to stay. But deep, deep down she really hoped that she could have one more day with him, to see his little smile and hear his cheerful giggles. Simon read Angel’s quiet expression, and only grew more upset as he realized he was right. Sighing with disappointment he crossed his arms,
“You know our lives don’t promise anything good or safe for him!!”
 Clutching the soft, baby blue blanket closer to her chest, Angel began to cry,
 “And if we leave him out there, or-or anywhere else he won’t be safe either!! Please! He’s just a baby Simon!!”
  A heavy sob left Angel’s pink lips as her eyes grew swollen from the painful tears that continued to fall from her beautiful eyes. Ghost looked down at his feet and held his face in his large hand, unwilling to face Angel’s teary face and expression of hurt. It pained his heart to see her like this and to know he might make it worse, because he didn’t want to keep little Noah. Not because he didn’t love him or like him, (for his heart swooned for the beautiful baby boy) but Simon felt that he’d be totally incapable of being a father and protecting him as much as he should be present. Simon’s father was never there for him, and when he was on the few occasions, he left Simon wounded and scarred for life. After living through all the hurt his father put him through, Simon promised himself he’d be a better father than his own, but right now, he feared that he was no where ready to complete that promise. Simon turned to walk out of the room to clear his head, from the haunting flashbacks he was beginning to see at the thought of his own father. He didn’t want Angel to face him when he was going through them, sometimes he would worry that he might lash out on her without meaning it, so instead he’d keep distance until he was calm. But in the moment, Angel wasn’t ready for him to walk away, and leave her in the mess of her own heart that had fallen for a motherless baby. She reached out and grabbed his arm unexpectedly before he could walk out of the room, and whimpered,
  “Simon please just listen to me-“
Although it was one simple sentence, in the world of Simons mind that raced through millions of haunting things, that one thing was enough for him to snap. Yanking his arm away from her harshly, Simon then practically screamed in her face with a pointing finger,
“I SAID NO!! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND??”
 Angel gasped and jumped back at his actions, cowering from his screams, not intentionally wanting to show him that he had definitely scared her, for this was a first. At seeing this, Simon froze in place, with his hand in mid air, slowly taking into count how he had just unintentionally scared Angel, finally doing what he had feared most, lashing his anger on her for things he couldn’t stop thinking about and couldn’t control. Simon immediately dropped his hand when he saw her stand up fully, looking like she was about to walk away from him, another nightmare he never wanted to come true. All bad thoughts and angered feelings left him when it was replaced with guilt and fear as he called out worriedly with panicked eyes,
  “Please don’t go, I’m so sorry love, I swear-“
 Angel took in his tone and words, and stood still for a couple of seconds with growing tears in her eyes, then walked up to him with purpose and raised her hand towards his face. Simon could only figure that she might either slap him or something along that line, but was so wrong when she instead grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down into a hug as she wrapped her both arms around his neck, grasping tightly. Simon gasped under his breath, then let out a sigh of relief to know that she’d never leave him, no matter how many times his mind told him that she would because he believed that he didn’t deserve her. Simon quickly wrapped his strong arms around her tiny form and pushed her impossibly closer to his chest, cradling his face into her neck, inhaling what smelled like comfort and home on Angel’s body. 
 Angel ran a hand through his short hair as she cried to him in between sniffles and little escaping sobs,
  “I’m sorry for pushing you about this baby, I should’ve considered how you felt first. I know you’re childhood wasn’t easy, and your father didn’t make it better. I’m so sorry my love.”
 Simon squeezed her sides warmly, it was his way of saying that he forgave her. But even though Simon wasn’t a man of a lot of words, he couldn’t let this slip by without his share of words, so he then kissed Angel’s neck as he softly said,
  “It’s not your fault, my life and everything that is involved in it, isn’t your fault. I’m sorry for lashing out on you, no matter what’s going on between us, you should never fear me hurting you, and if I ever do, you pick up my personal gun and shoot me clean, understood?”
  Angel let out a sweet chuckle at his dramatics, but she knew that he was dead serious, so she nodded, 
  “I understand love, and I also... though it stings like a bitch... I know letting Noah go is ours and his safest bet.”
 After confessing such, she let a heart wrecking sob escape her lips, letting him know that making this decision was tough for her, but she held onto him tighter and kissed his head, showing him that she’d be ok with it, as long as she had him by her side. Simon pulled away and gently held onto Angel’s face before planting a sweet kiss to her lips, ignoring how they were wet and tasted salty from her tears. Angel clutched onto his strong arms as Simon promised her comfortingly,
  “One day, when we are settled down, and are no longer a part of this life, I’ll let you have as many kids as you desire, I’ll give you the big family you want.”
  Angel pouted adorably as she asked innocently,
  “Can we have 12 babies?”
 Simon’s eyes grew a little wide at the double digits, but nonetheless he nodded with a smile,
  “Of course, you can have your 12 babies.”
  “All girls?”
Chuckling softly at the thought of having 12 little Angels running around in little dresses made him smile,
  “All girls is perfect for me.”
Angel beamed at him lovingly before tiptoeing to kiss his pointed nose then lips,
  “Thank you my love... now I need to go, and get Price to help me find a place for the little one.”
 With a kiss to her forehead Simon let her go,
  “Alrighty then, let me know if you need anything, I promise I’ll be right here.”
 “ok..”
Angel then walked away, opening the door and stepping out of the room after sending him a sweet smile and a wave goodbye.
A couple of hours had passed when Simon realized that Angel hadn’t returned,
 ‘Perhaps she’s quiet busy.. maybe I’ll get a small dinner started for her.’
Ghost slipped on his balaclava and left his infamous Skull behind, believing that he’d be just fine without it. He walked out of their shared room and went down the hall to head down to the kitchen to grab some dinner for themselves. Until a soft baby cry made him stop in his tracks, right in front of a closed door. Simon didn’t move again, thinking to himself that maybe he heard wrong, but the silence made the baby’s next cry sound even louder and more clearer. Hesitant to engage and help the baby, fearing he might scare it or might not be able to know how to help him, Simon then decided to go look for Angel after all. But a soft, adorable whimper from the baby’s mouth made its way to Simon’s ears, which guided him to him sudden move, which was to open the door and walk in. There the baby stood in his makeshift crib in the dark, only a little light shone from a flashlight that was taped on the wall of the crib, which was built by Gaz and Soap, so you can imagine how terrible it looked, but it was durable. His little pouty lips and round teary eyes made Simon’s heart melt immediately, and even more when his mini chubby hands did grabby signs towards him as the whimpers continued to leave his toothless little mouth. Simon was more than ready to back off, but a subtle flash came across him, he saw his little sled reaching for his father, who only walked away and never came back, after he wounded his wife brutally. Simon shook the painful thought off, and sighed to himself as he walked closer to little Noah, debating whether or not he should walk out and find Angel, or just pick up the little baby. Simon chose the latter, and used his large, calloused hands to grab onto the sides of Noah, and lifted him carefully out of the crib. Once he had picked him up fully, Simon held him up and stretched out,  taking into view his little features and large clothing. Simon recognized the long, red shirt the baby wore, it was Angels, that fit largely on little Noah, but Simon heartily believed he looked adorable. The baby silenced it cries and look deeply into Simon’s eyes, trying to see his face through the thick, black balaclava he wore, but Noah didn’t show signs of fear, he was actually more curious than anything when he started to stretch his hands to towards it, wanting to touch it. Simon caught onto Noah’s intentions immediately and slowly brought him closer to his face as he cooed softly, worried again that he might he scare him with his tough and deep accent, 
 “Hey little one.. you like my balaclava?”
Noah cooed back and sent him a bright smile when he heard Simon’s voice, letting out a little shriek once his soft hands touch Simon’s covered cheeks. Through the balaclava Simon was still able to smell how sweet and fresh Noah was, also a little bit of vanilla hit his nose from Angels shirt that was worn on Noah. Simon could feel his heart pound and beat with a growing, warm feeling. Simon’s observant eyes caught onto how perfect Noah was, his beautiful ocean blue eyes, his little button nose, his toothless but adorable smile, even the baby noises of excitement that left his pink tiny lips. Noah’s hands still traveled up and down Simon’s face, liking the way the balaclava felt against his mini fingers and tiny palms. Simon then felt a pinch in his heart, realizing he was liking this a little too much, but before he could pull Noah away, Noah threw himself onto Simon’s face, and hugged it tightly with his baby arms. The baby was so small, he practically covered Simon’s entire face, his little tummy was against Simon’s nose, as he laid chubby face on Simon’s head, cuddling closer than before. Standing completely still from shock, Simon thought for a moment, as he felt Noah’s tummy moving as he took in his little breaths,
 ‘What an adorable little one... no wonder Angel wanted him so badly... he’s so loving.. even in a world that has given him nothing.’
 And suddenly a wave of emotion hit Simon, making him clutch the baby tighter, feeling his innocent love pour into his heart that didn’t always know how to love in the bad times. Angel had been the one to bring that back in Simon, sense the first day he saw her, it was like an electric shock sparked in him the minute she laid her eyes on him, giving him a chance to open up to her, no matter how scared and hard he was at first. Soon Simon felt that he couldn’t breathe without her, needing to always be by her side, which caused him to express his feelings and desperation for her. He didn’t use words though, no... he wrote a meaningful letter and sat in front of Angel as she read it to herself. Angel let him in when she tucked the folded letter into her shirt, and opened her arms for him to receive, and sense that day, he had learned to love and was inseparable from her. But now, as he felt Noah’s little fingers move as he patted his covered head, Simon felt a new kind of love seep into his heart, a love of an innocent child. He never felt that he could ever feel such, but Noah made all the difference, the minute he was in Simon’s arms. In that moment, a missing puzzle piece connected itself in Simon’s heart, and that when he knew what he wanted,
  ‘I want him..’
Simon immediately but gently pulled Noah away from his face as he said,
  “Little one... I want you. I really do, son. I just don’t know if I can keep you now, but I don’t want to ever let you go.”
 Noah didn’t understand what Simon was saying, so he just smiled happily and babbled incoherent words, expressing how he was liking Simon and his soothing voice, still trying to reach out and touch his balaclava again. Simon then moved Noah into one arm, and securely held him before walking out, leaning his head down a little so Noah’s reaching hands could still touch the bottom of his balaclava. Soap was the first to catch Simon with Noah as he walked down the hall, with a raised brow he asked confused while pointing at Noah,
  “Ay LT... What is this?”
Simon turned to Soap as he bounced Noah a little,
  “This is Noah... meet your Uncle Soap, little one.”
 Soap approached the pair and brushed the back of his hand gently against Noah’s soft hair while looking at Simon,
  “LT will they let you keep him?”
Noah leaned into Soap’s touch but still clung tightly onto Simon’s black shirt,
“They have to... I don’t want him to go.. he’ll be safe here with us. He has a bunch of badass Uncles and a strong mother.”
 Soap stepped away and smiled at Simon approvingly, it was quite a new look on him, strong and huge in every way, holding onto a tiny bundle of joy that only sported sweet smiles. 
  “They ya better get ya ass to Price, they were still looking for a place to take him in.” 
  Walking away Simon replied while cooing at Noah,
 “I know.. but you’re not going any where now. Huh little one? I know right?”
 Once Simon was out of sight, Soap chuckled to himself and thought it was hilarious to see the big, bad, murder machine Ghost swooning over a baby, he even pitched his voice as he communicated with him, while to the rest he barked loudly and meanly. But deep down Soap was happy to see Ghost this way, at times it did hurt him to see his pal Simon so closed off and cold, but now, he knew things would take a turn, for his little one. Angel sat on Price’s office crisscrossed as she laid a phone book in front of her, calling every number possible that could probably take in Noah. But every person on the other line said that they didn’t have room, or that they couldn’t take babies, hence leaving Angel very frustrated as she took in her next call and argued with the secretary on the line,
 “Listen, he’s just one baby, you have to have room.... what do you mean no?!..... No, Please I’ve tried everywhere else and all of them have used the same excuse!!..... You know what, I hope you rot in hell! There’s a child in need of a home and you’re being impossible! Thank you for being a bitch!!”
 Slamming the telephone on the desk Angel then covered her face and sighed loudly, trying to keep herself together so she could make the next call. And just then she heard the office door open behind her, right away Angel thought it was Price as she began to explain,
 “Believe me Price, I’ve tried for the last 2 and a half hours and NO ONE wants to take him in!! It’s not fair!”
 She expected Price’s gruffly voice to come through, but instead she was met with a sweet noise, a little coo that made her whip her head around so quick she was surprised her head had not snapped.
  “Noah?- Simon? Oh Simon I’m so sorry was he crying?!”
Angel jumped off the desk and was ready to get Noah out of Simon’s hands, worried that Noah might of irritated him with his cries which is why he brought him to her, but Simon only held onto Noah tighter as he put forth,
  “He’s ok... I think he likes me.”
Angel’s face dropped as she took in Simon’s words, not ever expecting to hear those words come from him. But she was able to see how happy Simon was, his eyes glistened brighter. Walking up to Simon she looked at Noah who was happily chewing on his fingers, she then felt a large warm hand grab onto hers, which made her look up at Simon who was already looking down at her with love,
  “I want him...”
Angel awed in sympathy as she cupped Simon’s cheek,
“Aww sweetheart. I want him too... but I don’t know if-“
Placing his finger on Angel’s lips Simon insisted,
 “Shh shh... we’ll keep him. No buts, he’s not going anywhere. We have a strong fortress here, a good family. I can’t imagine him anywhere else in this world that isn’t in my sight.”
 Tears welled up in Angel’s eyes as she placed her hand on Noah’s head as she ran her delicate fingers through his hair,
 “Are you serious? You really want to do this Simon?”
 Simon nodded,
 “Only if you do.”
“Of course! I really do!!”
 Angel placed a kiss on Simon’s lips over the balaclava before cooing at Noah excitedly,
  “Did you get that Noah? You’re staying!!-“
 “What in the bloody hell is going on?”
Now that was Price, who stood at his door with a face of confusion, looking at his 6’4 giant coldblooded soldier clutching a happy baby to his chest, along with his other less coldblooded soldier who was holding onto little Noah’s hands. Angel stepped away as she clear her throat,
 “Umm Price... I think you know what’s going on.”
 Price stayed utterly silent, only looking at Noah as he watched him now entertain himself with Simon’s fingers. Simon grew internally worried that Price might say no and have them give up Noah, but was wrong when Price lifted a small smile, as he told Angel,
  “I told ya he would break, of course we can keep him here with us, and he can be yours.”
 Simon let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and sighed as he lifted Noah in the air,
  “My little one... I guess Uncle Price took a liking to you too eh?”
Angel ran to Price and gave him an appreciative but unexpected hug, squeezing him tightly as she thanked him,
  “Thank you Price, means everything to me.”
 Price returned the hug as he kissed Angel’s head,
  “You’re welcome, I’ve prepared a safe place for you to be at, for your family. A good home.”
 Simon’s ears perked up at that,
  “But what about work? I’ll still be showing up no?”
Chuckling at Simon’s usual loyalty to his job no matter what, Price settled the issue as he said,
  “Of course, you’ll be in your regular schedule, but instead of coming back here, you go to your safe house to be with your boy and wife. And as for Angel, things will be different for you, you’ll help me run the mechanics for me, along with the technical parts. You’ll still be a big help, you’re one of our better technicians for the military equipment.”
 Angel nodded approvingly,
 “Thank you Captain.”
Price sent Angel a warm smile before walking out,
 “No problem, get your things and go home.”
A few hours later, Simon and Angel were settled in their new safe house. It was small but incredibly cozy, a cute little nursery was built in their shared room, it had a nice living area and a kitchen. On the outside it looked like a little cottage in the woods. But it was hidden deep in the woods where no one could find it. The cottage faced a small lake and some mountain sides, giving the perfect view for a sunrise. Simon sat on the loveseat that was in front of the fireplace that was lit up by him. He had discarded his balaclava and shirt, hence only leaving him in his cargo pants and boots while sitting on the chair. With little Noah resting on his bare, muscled chest as Simon patted his back gently. Noah let out calm breaths as he slept away, sooth by Simon’s chest moving up and down slowly, and by the warmth of his skin. Noah only wore his little diaper, that came from a box of things for him that Price and Laswell had put together for him. Small footsteps could be heard as Angel walked into the living room in Simon’s long socks and black long sleeved shirt, she patted towards where he sat and awed at the adorable sight. Simon looked up from where he had his eyes on Noah, and locked his loving gaze on Angel as she grabbed his hand with a small pout,
  “He stole my spot.”
Simon’s chest rumbled with a light chuckle, but he nonetheless moved Noah carefully up his chest and more to his right side, then patted his lap as he offered,
  “There’s still room, take my lap, c’mon love.”
 Angel sent him a beaming smile before carefully situating herself onto his lap, cuddling into his embrace as he used his free hand to hold her against him. Angel planted a soft kiss on his lips before laying her head on his chest, facing Noah who was still sleeping peacefully, she ran her fingers through his hair gently, smoothing it out, then laying her hand over Simon’s chest. Simon hummed to himself, leaning his head down to kiss Angels head, feeling happy and protective as he held two of the most precious treasures of the world. Outside of his house he’d still be himself, cold killer and always serving in the most crucial missions, but here in his home, in the safety of his family, he could be free, and he could be himself, a best friend, husband, a father, and overall... happy.
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moriartyluver · 1 year
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Hey<3 may I request Liam from mtp when his noblewoman wife gets badly injured when they’re on one of their missions?<3
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A/N: thank you for your request! For everyone who has sent in requests but haven’t seen them get answered, please know that I’m currently in like the busiest year of my highschool career so even trying to post one request a week is hard for me but you can still send in requests! Just remember it may take a while to get a response. I’m trying to finish the ones that were shorter or sent in earlier but I still have a few requests from like Christmas so yeah, it’ll take some time.
Characters: William James Moriarty x fem!reader
Prompt: How would William react to his noble! Wife getting injured on a mission?
Format: Oneshot
Genre: angst to fluff
Warnings: descriptions of violence and injury, reader is female, reader is William’s wife, established relationship, mentions of death, descriptions of blood &bleeding but it’s all worth it for the end because it gets quite cute.
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And with one final swing of your dual swords, which you slid back into the scabbards that were clasped around your thighs, the last enemies were dead.
Although William feared you getting hurt and would much rather you stay at home, he was well persuaded by you to let you come with him on various missions. To you, they were quite fun. You admired William’s planning and he respected your skill too. This particular mission involved a lot of deaths and was a lot less subtle than usual.
“It seems that those were the last of them, darling,” you told your husband who has wiping his face of blood and then turned to look at you with a smile.
“Well done, Angel,” William kissed your forehead as he pulled your hood over your head. “I suppose we should be leaving now, hm?”
You nodded and held his hand in yours as you both fled the scene. You failed to notice the gash on your thigh that had been created by a knife that one of the men charged at William with but you had kept in to protect him last second. You thought that you had disarmed him before he could even get to either of you, but alas, you were wrong.
As you began approaching the allocated point for you to be picked up in a carriage by Fred, you noticed that you were beginning to feel faint, and it was quite obvious to William too.
“(Name), are you alright?” He queried looking you up and down to see if there was anything wrong.
“I think I’m feeling a bit faint,” your speech had become slightly slurred as you felt your peripheral vision darken. “I’ll just need a glass of water when we get back. I’m sure I’ll be fine, my dear.”
William wasn’t convinced. This hadn’t been the first time you had lied about your health for his sake. You hated people being overly worried for you because you never felt as though you were worth worrying for and merely a distraction.
“Have you checked yourself for any injuries?” You could occasionally be quite reckless so after every mission, this would be routine. You shook your head hesitantly while your husband narrowed his eyes. He had you sit down on a nearby tree stump and patted you down to check for any possible cuts and wounds, until eventually he found something a lot worse than he had hoped.
Right on your left thigh was a deep wound with a length of at least 10-15 centimetres and blood was leaving it at a fast rate. The skin around it had gotten pale due to blood loss and upon looking closely at your face, he could tell you were trying to stay awake. Could you have just been ignoring this?
“(Name),” he called out to you but you were starting to fade out of consciousness “(name)! Please stay awake! Just listen to the sound of my voice and repeat back if you can.” He said loud enough to grab your attention.
He took his tie off from around his neck and tied it around your thigh, the pressure slowed down the rate of blood loss. William held you in his arms and began walking towards the carriage which had just turned up and tried to remain calm.
Once he had opened the door, he place you in gently and explained the situation to Fred, who noticed he was beginning to lose his calm composure. As the carriage drove to the manor, William cradled your head in his arms and eventually noticed your eyes were fully shut and you had finally passed out. He couldn’t help but panic. No tears. No sobs.
He was just stunned. He couldn’t lose you. If anything, he was to leave this world before you and let you live a long and happy life without him. He could let you die for his sake, while you were protecting him. How useless could he get…? He was unable to protect you and here you lay, limp in his arms and dying of blood loss.
He ran a hand through your matted locs. There was dried blood in your hair but he couldn’t help but find you beautiful all the same. Too beautiful for him. You were beyond him in every way, and now he had ruined it all by being weak and unable to protect himself.
Thankfully, there isn’t usually much traffic late at night and in the middle of nowhere, so it didn’t take too long for you to get home and treated by William who had the help of Louis aswell, seeing as he was frightened he might not be able to see you wake up. The house was dead silent the entire morning after that. Nobody knew what to do without your presence to fill the room and william shut the door to your room and stayed by your side, just in case you woke up frightened, and needed comfort.
A few hours of pacing around his room in silence later, william had came to your bedside, on the verge of tears for the umpteenth time, only to see that your heartbeat had steadied and you were now shuffling around in your shared bed. You were alive and well.
The tears had slowly began to roll down his cheeks as he watched you stir and eventually stretch awake. Your eyelashes fluttered open and you turned to see william at you side, watching you in awe. You were somewhat confused. Last time you checked, you didn’t sleep together the night before and you knew this because you both still had your clothes on, so why was he looking at you as if your were the most beautiful being he had ever laid his eyes on.
You sat up in bed and let your tired legs dangle over the bed. You winced in pain as you felt a stinging in your thigh and it all came back to you. You didn’t remember much before you passed out apart from having William wrap your thigh in his tie and maybe a bit before.
Neither of you said a word until you finally spoke up a minute later and placed your hand on the head of the man who was currently kneeling down before you.
“Are you alright?” You whispered. With your other hand, you wiped away a tear escaping his eye with your thumb and then placed a kiss to the top of his head.
“I think I should be the one asking you that,” he leaned into your touch “if you’re fine, then so am I.”
“Well then I think I’m doing wonderfully, despite the pain in my leg and slight drowsiness.” You smiled softly “that means you must be feeling something similar.”
“That’s good to hear,” he rose up to meet your eyes with his own, then gave you a peck on the lips. Your smile widened and you thought ‘well why not take advantage of this opportunity?’
“You wouldn’t mind staying by my side, would you?” You asked him, holding him by the wrist “ how much sleep did you get last night anyways?”
“I didn’t,” he avoided your gaze out of guilt. How could you be thinking of him when you were the one who nearly died last night? “I’ll take you up on that offer. Just let me notify the others of your status.”
You pouted “I don’t want them to worry for me but I’d much rather be with you, even for a few minutes,” he couldn’t deny you such a simple thing. The others would find out later anyways. He kissed you again and agreed to your requests, climbing into bed beside you and letting you lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat while he wrapped his legs around your waist, wanting to be closer to you.
“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you whispered into his chest “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“If it were for you, I’d let myself cry so much, even the worlds largest oceans couldn’t contain my tears.”
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lingering-42-long · 8 months
Text
I’ll be home for Christmas
Soap x f! reader
I don’t know what happened, but the original one either got accidentally deleted or I just never posted it! This is the first of the series. I’ll be home for Christmas. Enjoy
Warnings: none
John winced when he got the call from headquarters saying he would need to leave for duty on Tuesday, witch meant be on a flight to the shitty hell-hole of a place tomorrow. He hated being called at last moment. Being left out of the loop irked him to no end.
Soap looked over at the clock and noticed that his girlfriend would be home soon. She worked at a local pub by night in Sterling and her shift was nearing the end. Just as he was thinking about her his phone buzzed with a text. It was from (y/n). ‘Hey Johnny, I’ll be home in a bit on my way.’
John texted back ‘ok love. See you here.:)’ He noticed she called him Johnny not hunny or babe. She must be tired. He thought to himself as he got up to finish dinner. He hated having to leave her behind in such short notice.
The Cock-a-Leekie soup was almost finished when John heard keys outside jingle and the lock opening. (Y/n) came in on this chilly night.
“Brrrr. It’s cold out there” she shivered and hung her jacket on the peg by the door and was in the process of taking her wet shoes and socks off, when two arms snaked around her waist. “Aye mo leannan (yes my sweetheart). You’re cold aren’t ya?” His thick Scottish accent rolled off his tongue as he kissed her neck. A giggle could be heard from her lips “Already trying to flirt with me this late? “Lass if I was try’n to flirt with ya, I would’ve put more effort into it.” He gave a little nibble to her earlobe. (Y/n) smiled as she slipped on a pair of house slippers. “Something smells amazing. Are you making what I think your making?”
“Aye ghràdh (love).” Soap smiled as he dished out two plates.
“You really didn’t have to do that. It’s so late…” It was true. It was around 1:45am, but John didn’t matter. He knew he did not have much time with his Beloved. “No I don’t mind,” he smiled then his face dropped, “Also I got to tell you something.”
A frown formed on (y/n)’s face. “Let’s talk about it after dinner, ok?” John gave a quick nod and touched her cheek gently “tha gaol agam ort (I love you).”
A light blush formed over (y/n)’s face “I love you too”
Dinner was amazing and the two of them talked about (y/n)’s job and who was at the pub that night. John gave a slight snort when she was telling him about the idiot who kept flirting with her. “Did ye tell ‘em yur with meh?”
“Of course I did but you know how men are, he saw that as a challenge”
“Next time I’ll show him a real challenge” he huffed.
“No need. I took care of it quick.” She chuckled. “I got Bruce to start waiting on him.” The man Bruce, she was referring too, was a big hulking of a man and could scare anyone into submission if it came to one of his colleagues getting uneasy with a drunken idiot.
“Well at least he has been delt with.” John nodded. He was very happy that she could stand up in a fight. That’s one of the many things he loved about her.
“So…. What’s this bad news you have to dump on me?” (Y/n) asked already figuring it out but waiting for the confirmation.
“Lass I got called in for a mission… I know it’s bad timing.” So close to Christmas. It was both there favorite time of the year. It was going to be tough on them.
“Yeah really bad timing.” She bit her bottom lip trying not to let her tears fall. “I had made plans and everything too…oh well”
“Hey now mo aingeal milis (my sweet angel). Yer can still do those things, and the plan is to be home for Christmas… if all goes to plan tha’ is.” A simple touch to the shoulder almost sent (y/n) crying. She was a tough-ie but things that were very important to her still got to her. “I know…I just worry if you will be ok…if you will make it…”
“Aye Bonnie I promise ye I will com back home in one piece yeah?”
“Alive?” She asked
“Alive and well.” He chuckled. “Now go get ready fer bed. I’ll clean up and be there in a bit.”
She shook her head “I want to help…”
“Your tired. You’ve been working all night. Let me do this fer ya.”
“Fine.” (Y/n) trudged upstairs to their room and washroom were she took off her makeup and jewelry. She had worn the necklace and matching earrings that John had given her last year as an anniversary gift on Valentine’s Day.
She looked at herself in the mirror, tears still threatening to spill, a long night and now this? Pull yourself together girl. (Y/n) told herself but to no avail. When she made it to the bedroom to get changed for the evening, the thought of her boyfriend leaving her made the waterworks start as she burst out crying into her pillow, sobbing away. Perfect timing for Soap to walk in, catching sight of his overtired, crying girlfriend.
“Hey hey hey! What’s this Love?” Gently kneeling beside her side of the bed and placing a hand on her back.
“I’m sorry I must be tired, but the thought of you leaving for the holidays…” (Y/n)’s voice broke again as she tried to regain her composure.
“No don’t apologize, ghràdh (love). I wished I could have told you sooner.” He kissed her head gently. “I know this will be h’rd on both of us but we can work this out, yeah?” John got up and walked to his dresser to get on a pair of pants. He liked to sleep shirtless.
As soon as Soap opened the covers to get in, his girlfriend clung onto him. “Aye lass I got ye.” He chuckled and stroked her head. “I’ll wake ye up when I leave ok?” No reply just a nod into his chest. Softly, as if she would shatter in his arms, he hummed an old song and gently rubbed her back. This made (Y/n) break down and cry again. “I got ye let it out. Shhhhhh.” John murmured, now his own eyes betraying him as they stung with salty water threatening to hit his pillow and his girlfriend. He held (y/n) tightly, letting her cry to sleep, knowing that would be the best for her. Soon he was following in that pattern.
It was 6:30am when John began walking to the door with his sleepy girlfriend in tow, holding his arm. Soap opened the door, with his duffel bags in hand gave his (y/n) a kiss. “I’ll be back in a few weeks, you’ll see”
(y/n) nodded sadly. “Be safe out here ok? Kick there asses.”
He gave a small smile “I always do.”
John turned around to head for his car don’t turn back, dont fucking turn back. But he did and saw (y/n) standing there “fuck” he muttered a small choke. He dropped his bags and swiftly dashed back to her.
“Oh lass I am going to miss ye so so so much!” He was shaking. Trying to hold it in, trying to be the big tough Sargent he needed to be.
“It’s ok. You told me last night we got this, it’s not like we haven’t been in this same boat before. If we did it 100 times before we can do it one more time. I’ll be waiting here for you when you get back ok?” A smile laced with sadness stretched over (y/n)’s face.
He pulled himself up and nodded. She was right. With a final lasting kiss he went back to grab his bags once more and this time made it to the car without look back. Setting his stuff in the back seat, he then got into the front, starting the engine, and slowly driving out from the driveway. He could see her silhouette in the dim light coming from the living room as she stood outside watching him. Soap drove down the road towards the airport with one thought on his mind.
When I get back love, I’m going to ask you a question… I hope you say yes.
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thaoilations · 1 year
Text
Coruscant was weird.
Weird fashion, weird social conventions, weird buildings, weird transportation and weird fucking furniture. Why was this table so long and skinny? Why were the chairs pointy? The room was too loud for Thao, people were doing that fake laugh you do with your colleagues and cutlery kept clanging together. The red headed Jedi was starting to get a headache. Not only had she been sent on some pointless mission in the outer rim earlier in the day that totally wasted her time, but now she was sat in a room with obnoxious senators— having accompanied Mimi as her Jedi guard for the evening.
It was so boring. She couldn’t even engage in the conversations, not that they were of any interest anyways. She just had to stand there, listening, watching and enduring. She thought Mimi looked beautiful that evening, wearing a blue dress that accentuated her shape and she loved Mimi in blue, but it seemed that everyone loved her in blue— so now Thao hated the dress. There was no reason for anyone else to look at it. Especially not the chair of the finance committee who couldn’t stop ogling her, sat directly opposite her across the table. Hell, there was even a candle between them— they may aswell have been on a date.
Thao crossed her arms, posted at the wall out of the light where she was watching over her secret lover like a scorned guardian angel. Mimi was doing the polite thing of course, smiling, nodding, laughing at his jokes and conversing— gently trying to steer the conversation away from anything flirty. Thao trusted Mimi, so she didn’t care too much. That was until he really started pushing his luck, calling the service droid over to refill her wine glass, assumably to lower her inhibitions. His gaze got more greedy, and his words got more sleazy despite it being obvious the young senator was uncomfortable. Thao was about to jump in, when a bang beneath the table sounded, Mimi looked shocked as she jumped in her seat. The man had grabbed her thigh beneath the table, causing her to knock her knee, attracting disapproving glares around her.
The Jedi stepped forward, about to act but Mimi sent her a sharp look— silently telling her that she could handle it. She didn’t hear what was said but she excused herself, heading to the bathroom— visibly uncomfortable but handling it. She took her job very seriously, spite of everything. She couldn’t make a scene.
The party section of the evening kicked in, the servers collecting the plates and the guests moving to the lobby of the skyscraper. Live music played as the senators continued swirling about with their wine glasses and their fake laughs and Mimi returned, working the room like the man had never laid his hands on her. Thao prowled the outskirts of the room watching her, watching for the slightest sign of discomfort. One downturn of her lips and she was willing to whisk her out of there, and fast. She passed near her guard, Thao nodding to get her attention.
“That man bother you?”
Mimi averted her gaze, like she wasn’t telling her something — the way she so often did when she doesn’t want the hot headed Jedi to worry.
“I’m okay. Used to his antics.”
So this wasn’t the first time. Thao said nothing, but her heart pound angrily in her chest.
An hour or so past, and hallelujah— Mimi was ready to leave. She did her rounds, before telling T to meet her in the foyer to take her home. The Jedi agreed, telling her she’d be five minutes. Mimi disappeared in a swish of blue and Thao passed by the group of men, all friends with the chair of the finance committee who stood at the centre of them, smirking and adjusting his belt over his large belly.
“Thats why I like the young ones. Girls like Senator Corsby, they don’t know what they like yet. I’m thinking I could be her mentor, if you know what I mean. I can be a very hands on teacher.” He wiggled his eyebrows causing the men to jeer and comment on her. She clenched her fist, glancing around the room before she watched him excuse himself, wanting to retrieve his death sticks from his coat pocket. If I wasn’t about to be late to meet you downstairs to bring you home, I’d beat this guy bloody for the way he spoke about you— she thought, head tilting ever so slightly as she channelled her anger to dissipate to the best of her ability, the way she was taught as a Jedi.
He exit the function room and walked down the hallway, dark and narrow as he searched for the cloak room. Thao didn’t realise she was following him until she heard her own boots padding across the carpeted floor, staring at his back. How he didn’t hear her, she didn’t know. Perhaps he was drunk, which somehow only irritated her more.
She stood in the doorway of the cloak room, watching the pudgy man digging in the pockets of his long black coat. He coughed, and T scrunched up her nose. It was a disgusting, phlegmy cough. He spluttered, and then gasped and coughed some more. Thao’s hand was outstretched slightly at her side, curling and tensing her fingers into a C shape. She was doing it, she was causing the cough. She was choking him.
His body thumped heavily on the floor and she looked around, sticking her head out the door checking that no one was looking for him. She didn’t even feel bad. He deserved it and… and what if he was going to hurt Mimi? Make her uncomfortable again? Make that scared look reappear on her face? Not on Thao’s watch. She willed herself out of the trance she’d put herself under. Could it be she had some inclination to the dark side? She never wanted to give up being a Jedi and she was definitely anti sith, but for her lover she’d do anything.
With the strength of a Jedi, she stuffed him into the garbage shoot— listening to his body crack and break as he tumbled down hundreds of floors, the heavy sound of his limbs smacking against the metal walls growing quieter and quieter until he was no longer audible. Thao dusted off her hands, and swallowed the lump in her throat. She feared not for being caught, but more so for the fact she didn’t feel any type of way. What would Mimi think?
Thao flew the young senator home in their shuttle, and never spoke of it. She didn’t miss the flicker of a smile behind Mimis eyes at the next meeting, when it was announced the man had died due to unforeseen circumstances.
Four months passed, and it was the annual life day celebration at the temple. Jedi, members of the senate, and clones alike came together to party. Food, fireworks, an entire building of fun. It was far more relaxed than the other soirée, thanks to the boyish, untamed behaviour of the clones and the flowing alcohol. Mimi had arrived separately, having spent the day in the office and smoothed down her dress. She knew Thao would be here and this excite her, loving the secrecy of meeting up at a party — finding eachother, sneaking off to dark hallways for secret kisses and subtle touches and flirting hidden in plain sight. It felt like foreplay, and after a long day at her office Mimi was looking forward to having fun with her Jedi.
As she took a champagne flute off the tray held politely out to her by a service droid, her eyes landed on the girl. Carelessly sprawled out in a booth with her favourite clones playing some kind of card game— laughing and downing their drinks. It was nice to see her let go, having to usually appear stoic to appear professional and command respect. Mimi took a sip of her drink and took one last look down at her pearlescent coloured gown before swishing through the room, avoiding eye contact with anyone so they wouldn’t stop her in her path to greet the Jedi.
Thao noticed her presence and was quick to jump up to greet the girl, squeezing out the booth — but was interrupted in her path when a girl — a senate spokesperson squealed in delight, bouncing her way infront of her and grabbing the red head Jedi into a hug. Mimi paused her stride, detouring to the snack table, pretending to browse it as she observed the girl she hadn’t seen before. She had red hair too, but it cascaded down her back— the peak of a floral vine tattoo down her spine displayed by her backless lilac dress with gold accents. The dress barely covered her larger bust, and she seemed to pull her neckline even lower as she pulled back from the generous bear hug she’d given Thao.
Mimi couldn’t hear the conversation, it was far too loud— music, gleeful singing and clones hollering. She kept a close eye on the woman, watching her body language. It appeared Thao was friendly with the mysterious red head, laughing and nodding along to what she was telling her. Personally, Mimi felt she could have taken a step back or two. Or ten.
It was fine. Mimi decided that once the woman was done throwing herself at her girlfriend, she’d swoop in and ask about her. However, she was like a leech. She wouldn’t appear to leave, sticking herself to the Jedi’s side as different groups approached to mingle. Mimi wanted to interject, and she could have — it wouldn’t have looked at all suspicious. But she wanted to watch, her heart twinging in anger and jealousy, her palms hot and cheeks pink. Thao, overwhelmed by the social interactions around her didn’t look at the girl once only worsening things. Who was she?
The girls laugh rung over any noise in the room, placing a hand on Thaos arm as she did so. Thao was funny, let’s not mince words. But whatever she said couldn’t have been that funny. What made Mimi approach, walking with a heavier foot than intended, was when a clone stood in the group with them glanced at the girl, and then at Thao and wiggled his eyebrows. You know, the look that says — what’s going on with these two? The look that usually was given regarding Mimi instead, a nod to their chemistry that was undeniable to those unaware of their secret affairs. That look was for Mimi, and Mimi only.
The problem, was that when she stormed over she hadn’t quite planned what she was going to say. She pushed through into the group and everyone turned to her as she blinked in surprise before smiling politely.
“Senator Corsby, I’m happy to see you again.” Thao opened her arms for a polite hug, the type you give a colleague and where the brunette would usually keep up the act with a side hug or a pat on the back, she snaked her arms around the girls neck pressing herself against her in a close hug. She shared a glance with the maroon haired stranger, who watched with an indifferent expression.
“I was looking for you everywhere my Jedi knight, but it appears you were otherwise occupied. Always the social butterfly.” What sounded like polite banter made Thaos eyebrows raise at the girls strange behaviour.
“Well, you know how these things are.” Thao chuckled casually, collecting herself as she stepped back and Mimi greeted everyone else, paying no mind to the stranger girl. Mimis advance didn’t seem to effect her, and she continued to touch on Thao, laughing and speaking over the noise in her ear as the Jedi politely responded. She wasn’t reciprocating her energy of course, but she wasn’t rejecting her hard enough in Mimi’s eyes, who dug her manicured nails so hard into her palm she nearly drew blood. She’d never felt like this before.
Having enough of feeling shoved to the side by this unfamiliar seductress, apparently who went by the name Sela, Mimi excused herself to take a walk around to cool off. She couldn’t trust what she might say infront of other people if she continues to stay there. The group dispersed shortly after Thao traipsed after her, finding her leaning against a wall in a hallway alone with her drink, taking deep breaths.
“Mimi.” She tilted her head, light hearted but disapproving as she approached the lone brunette.
“What.” She sulked.
“You’re not being very subtle.” The Jedi crossed her arms.
“I don’t care. I don’t know where that Sela girl came from, but she needs to return. Why are you letting her be all over you?” Mimi turned to her in frustration.
“Her father is very powerful. I’m being polite because I don’t want you to get in trouble, when we first started seeing each other I told you I wasn’t interested in getting in the way of your job.” Thao scolded slightly.
“What’s that got to do with you?” The senator shrugged, barely being able to keep her eyes on the girl, all over the place as she felt she couldn’t think straight.
“I’m sure Sela can work it out, if I start aggressively rejecting her whilst letting you be all over me. I mean it Mimi, you’re not getting in trouble tonight.”
“I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care about trouble I want her to go away.” The brunette practically barked at her counter part, eyes wide and teary and breathing ragged. She looked partly animalistic, a state so different from her usual graceful demeanour. Thaos eyebrows shot up and she stepped closer, looking around for any eyes.
“Sweetheart.” She was firm, but kind which convinced Mimis eyes to stay on hers, blinking back her emotions. “I don’t want anyone else but you, I don’t care what she does. She’s fucking annoying. I’m just saving face. Be good for me, yeah?” She placed a hand on her cheek and she calmed instantly, still panting slightly but the look in her eyes had dimmed to a mere dwindle of madness — pupils that were once blacking out her whole eye shrinking down to regular size. She said nothing, but willed herself to nod slightly. “Alright.” Thao nodded, not going to force her to speak if she was frazzled, emotional and a little out of it. She knew the girl was sensitive, and she’d become a pro at being the only person to handle her. “I’m gonna get you a water. I don’t think you should drink any more of this okay?” She pried the champagne glass out of Mimi’s hand and stepped back. “I’ll be back. Breathe.” She sent her a look and Mimi exhaled, long and hard when she was out of sight.
Not wanting to actually be far from her for the rest of the evening she walked a little in her footsteps, passing rooms and areas of the building left unattended. As she passed a doorway, a breeze and a flash of purple caught her eye and she stopped, backing up a little. Sela stood on a balcony, fur coat wrapped tightly around her as she dragged on a death stick, staring out over the clouds and faint cityscape. Mimi’s eye twitched as she watched the girl, head tilting slightly to the side without realising. Smoking’s an ugly habit, she thought smugly, before anger rose back in her chest at the image of her bonding over the lit up sticks with her Jedi girlfriend who’s as the exception to this who also smoked, huddled together in the cold laughing and smoking together whilst Mimi was off on her own work call, none the wiser. Her own delusions made her anger kick back in, like a punch in the chest.
Sela turned and noted Mimis presence, unbothered. She took a drag before she spoke.
“Are you not cold?” She conversed and Mimi broke out of her trance to gaze down at herself, arms broken out into goosebumps at the winter weather— wind freezing her so high up in Coruscant.
“No. I… needed to cool off, actually.” Mimi stepped further onto the balcony, eyeing the girl carefully. She hummed in disinterest, continuing to stare off over the horizon in deep thought.
“You know what the worst thing is about being here, Mimi?” Sela thought aloud. Mimi didn’t respond and she didn’t wait for a response. “I’m not like anyone here. You see, I like boys and girls. Anyone really. I’m really well travelled you see, I’ve walked all paths of life so I have such a different view to everyone. Not black and white like the other senators, no offence of course.” She glanced at Mimi unapologetically, who was already staring at her back trying to work out what creatures fur she wore.
“I see.” Mimi urged her to go on. This bitch had no clue.
Thao carried the swishing glass of water, cursing when some spilled over the top — having ditched the champagne. Attempting to find the brunette who was missing from her spot, she popped her head into each room in the hallway before spotting the back of her on the balcony with Sela. Thao froze, guilt gnawing at her chest when she stepped back out of view into the dark hallway, curious to know how they’d interact without her presence — her ego interested in what would be said about her.
“And there is just something about the Jedi here at the temple. They’re my weakness, so strong and humble and protective. The men, not so great. They’re too boring, you know. So serious about their job.” She mused, a reminiscent smile on her face as she paused to take another drag. Mimi couldn’t move, hooked on her every word.
“I’m surprised, I thought you’d be quite the match with Fisto.” Mimi responded, as if trying to divert her from where she knew this was going. The girl turned to glance at her once more with a snigger, a look on her face that bothered Mimi. It read ‘you have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Like the look you give a child when they try and speak on adult matters. Mimi grit her teeth.
“Please. He’d be a good sugardaddy, I’m sure. I’m saying the women Jedi have caught my eye. You probably wouldn’t understand, you seem like the type to have a neat and tidy boyfriend that’s good to you and has met your parents. I’m different, I’m telling you. I want what I shouldn’t have. The worst part is I always get what I want.” She shrugged, so smug — like she didn’t even care that she were bragging and Mimi’s eye twitched again. She stepped further along the balcony.
“Well who are you after?” It was getting hard to conceal the tremble in Mimi’s tone, however she decided it could easily be passed on to the violent chill in the air.
“As if it isn’t obvious. I’d like to say I kind of have a thing going on with Thao, you know the Jedi with the red hair like mine. She’s serious about her job, don’t get me wrong— but I think if anyone could crack her it’s me. I’m dying to add a Jedi to my roster, and God our sexual chemistry is insane. Like. Everyone noticed.” Sela sounded set in her ways and Mimi felt like she’d had the wind knocked out of her. Her words were so convincing, persuasive and the brunette felt five years old again, sat in the sandbox in Naboo having her doll snatched from her hand. She couldn’t use her voice, all she could do is watch the other girl run off with it.
“Jedi’s aren’t meant to form attachments, so I don’t think that would quite work out.” Mimi bit back at her, stepping up close behind the girl which would appear threatening if she was even facing her. Sela didn’t seem to notice her tone, or even care, too caught up in her own ego. She laughed at Mimi again, this time shaking her head. Mimi pursed her lips, eyes zeroed in at the back of her sleek red head.
“Bless your heart, you really think everyone just follows the rules. Don’t worry, you’ll learn the ins and outs soon enough. Plus, I don’t think Thao is the type to follow rules. I think she’d break the rules, but only for me. She’s — oof!” The sentence was cut short, Mimi shoving Sela with such a force that she slammed forward, folding over the balcony ledge with a horrified scream.
Thao gasped, nearly dropped the glass of water as she watched the girl disappear over the side as Mimi watched, unmoving spite the ragged pant burdened at her chest. Selas scream was cut short when she smacked against a pillar on her way down, smashing her head knocking her out as she continued to fall through the clouds and out of sight limply. Mimi had no clue where she might have landed, or when. She heard no thud, they were simply too high up.
She tried to calm her shaking breath, verging on a panic attack as she looked down at her outstretched hands— red and white from being tensed for so long. She was no longer cold, cheeks pink and body feeling flushed even in the frozen weather. Thao stepped onto the balcony as Mimi turned around to flee the scene and she gasped, tears rolling down her cheeks at being caught.
Thao calmed her expression and stepped up to her quickly, cupping her face as the girl wordlessly cried, unable to explain herself.
“She just fell.” Thao whispered, to Mimis surprise who stared up at her hazily. She drew closer. “She fell.” She repeated before wiping the girls tears and kissing her, despite her sob. They were more alike than she thought.
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wellfine · 3 years
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✨ One Piece Timeskip Redesigns! ✨
My last art of 2020 went off with a bang! I’ve been working on these for a while and they’re finally ready to share. I thought it might be fun to concept designs for the crew with more influence from the islands they were sent to! They ended up a lil costume-y, but I like that too.
Read below for flavour text/design notes or just enjoy the art!
LUFFY: I wanted him to have “King of the Pirates” vibes! His hooded cape/mantle is inspired by the coats Shanks and Roger wore, but less cumbersome, mixed with the Kuja’s capes. The design on the back is Ace’s comedy/tragedy drama masks in the shape of Sabo’s goggles, inside angel wings. He can store things inside the sash. The golden snakes around his ankles can expand with him (the tail comes out of the mouth, like a bangle). The Kuja women made his clothes for him!
ZORO: Not a whole lot to say here except he forgot how normal people dressed while he was on Kuraigana LOL. His design is a mix of European and East Asian vampire lore and he just keeps... losin limbs lmao. With all his prominent scars he really does look undead!! This was the first design I came up with and it’s what made me want to do all the others!
NAMI: She’s a Weather Witch! The old men on Weatheria were scandalised by her short hair and tattoos so she... got shorter hair, and another tattoo. Her second tattoo is a four-pointed star inside a ship’s wheel/compass, to represent where she’s going, because her old tattoo represents where she came from. Her hair is also obviously inspired by Bellemere! Her suit is a swimsuit so she’s ready for any weather, and her hood opens up into a giant witch/rain hat. The moons on her shoes are skate-model wavers and can retract up around her ankles when she’s not using them. Combined with her (canon) “milky road” abilities, she can use them with her Clima-Tact to “fly” across clouds!
USOPP: He basically leveled-up in running away, so he kinda fights parkour-style now. His gloves and shoes are made by dipping his hands/feet in natural tree rubber sap so they give him excellent grip. He has little bands between his index & middle fingers he can use as slingshots in a pinch. He KEPT HIS ORIGINAL GOGGLES BECAUSE WHY WOULD HE ABANDON THEM, ODA?? even though he ahd to repair them a few times. The multiple watches keep track of the island’s time cycles and vibrate to alert him rather than make any sound. His coat of leaves provides camouflage, and he can also inflate it along with a birdcall whistle to look like a giant owl and scare off predators!
SANJI: What if Sanji went to Gender Island and realised all masculinity is performative so he came back a drag king I wanted to lean harder into his “waiter > chef” pre-TS design elements. His vest is backless and has more heart shapes at the back lmao. He leaves heart-shaped stamps on people when he kicks them
CHOPPER: Chopper was hard because I think his post-TS design is perfect already BUT! He got the little capelet and the feather from the people/birds of Torino kingdom. The swirls are from Hiluluk’s coat lapels! His doctor bag is actually a little backpack.
ROBIN: ............... ma’am She’s a fantasy/video-game-archeologist mixed with a sleek, modern super spy. She uses the harnesses to lift/hoist herself around by her own hands, using her devil fruit power instead of ropes, Mission Impossible style. She uses throwing knives even though her accuracy isn’t that great because she’s basically just gonna pick them up with one of her flower hands and stab the target close-range anyway.
FRANKY: I actually like that he’s a big messed up robo post-TS LMAO I just think he would love Vegapunk’s chimera designs. He’s sort of a griffon/manticore fusion with obvious inspiration from the Sunny, which he can probably mecha-fuse with somehow now. The paw pads can pop out of the gloves and act like smaller hands for more delicate stuff, just like his canon design. Robin is a big fan of squishing them. Gas from his cola chamber fuels powerful hydraulic attacks! (He can still do the nipple beam :/)
BROOK: Brook was hardest because I couldn’t change that much about his original design, but I lke the result! His skull cracked all the way through (probably excited groupies) so he welded it back together with gold (kintsugi). It can actually swing open like a purse, though, so he can store stuff in it, and his two gold teeth act as the clasp. His collar is an inverted violin, and his outfit is themed around ghost ships. The soles of his shoes are sabaody technology that make his foosteps silent. His cane-sword is now also a mic!
THAT’S IT! PHEW! If you have any questions I’d be happy to try and answer, but in the meantime, thank you for reading/looking! ♥
I can’t tag because Tumblr hates any links, even within Tumblr, but I was inspired to make these redesigns by Bridget’s lovely redesigns which you can find on her Tumblr elekilokal!
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wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years
Text
Babysitting Duty
Summary: while Scott and Clint are away on a mission, you and Wanda are stuck with babysitting duty
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Warnings: some harsh language
Word Count: 5,117
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"Your asses had better not leave the yard, got it?"
"Please don't swear at the kids."
"They're being little shits!" You insisted.
Wanda glared at you from where she was sat on the couch, cradling two-year-old Nathaniel, who had fallen asleep in her arms a few minutes ago. You scowled back at her as you moved to the other seat, closer to the open window, so that you could see and hear Lila and Cassie running around in the backyard. Lila ducked into the shed for a moment, re-emerging with a soccer ball. She kicked it toward Cassie.
Clint and Scott had taken up an offer to go on a mission with Natasha across the country. You didn't pry as to why she needed them specifically. Laura was in Los Angeles visiting some family, meanwhile Maggie and Jim were taking a vacation in the tropics. That had left Scott and Clint in need of a babysitter, and you'd been volunteered for the job. Now, you and Wanda were stuck at Clint's farmhouse for a few days until Laura got back. You were only in charge of Cassie, Lila, and Nathaniel, with Cooper having gone to stay with a friend while his parents were out of town.
"Why don't you go put him down?" You suggested to Wanda, the scowl on your face replaced by a soft smile.
Wanda shook her head. She didn't even bother to stand, instead simply laying him down on the couch they were sitting on. He whined a little as he left her arms, but after she'd stroked his head a couple times, he settled as soundly as he had been. She stood and crossed the room, sitting down next to you. Your arm moved around her waist and she leaned against you, legs curling up to her chest. You kissed the side of her head as you glanced out the window quickly to check up on the girls.
"What do you think about what Tony said?" She asked quietly.
You turned to stare at her. Her light green eyes flickered up to meet your gaze. It put a smile on her face. Her hand reached for yours, taking it and intertwining your fingers. You played with her hand.
"One day."
After getting the babysitting gig, you hadn't exactly been ecstatic. You were an Avenger, not a babysitter. Anytime Clint and Scott weren't around to hear, you'd repeat those words to whoever was close enough to listen. Most of them got that. They thought the same. It's why everyone had tried so hard to avoid the two men for those few days. When you'd gotten stuck with it, Natasha had even gone so far as to laugh at you.
You were good at avoiding. You'd practiced it all your anti-social life. So, it wasn't your fault that you'd be assigned babysitter. It was Wanda's. Clint had managed to corner her one day. Their relationship was a strange one. He'd cared for Pietro, and Pietro had cared enough for Clint to give up his life for him. Now, the surviving Maximoff and the archer had some sort of bond. That bond had made it impossible for her to say no to babysitting the toddler that was named after her brother.
Stuck with two kids anyway, you figured you might as well take care of Cassie at this point. Once you'd been nominated babysitter, though, Tony had taken it upon yourself to never leave you alone. It seemed, for those few days after you'd agreed to take care of the kids, Tony was around every single corner. You wouldn't have been surprised to learn he had been using the security cameras to keep track of you, because no matter how hard you tried to hide from him, he was there.
He was teasing you relentlessly about your having to babysit. Unlike the rest of them, Tony wasn't teasing you because you, an Avenger, were stuck with a 16-year-old high schooler's job. He was teasing you because you were stuck at a nice little home in the country with three kids and your girlfriend. He insisted, every time he saw you, that this was going to be good practice for your future. Wanda had blushed furiously the first time he'd said it. You'd shooed him away.
As much as you hated dealing with the billionaire and his stupid smirk when he'd approach you to tease you about practicing for your own kids, you would deal with it. Wanda would always turn away with a tomato-red blush burning on her cheeks, and so you would always find a way to give her an escape to stick around and take Tony's taunting yourself. Mostly you just ignored him, but he was persistent if nothing else.
Tony had driven you absolutely mad with his stupid suggestive tone and heckling comments. That was undeniable. Sometimes, you even wanted to take him down to the ring just for a reason to drive your fist into his gut. But after a long day of work and having to hear him go on and on, you'd climb into your bed, or sometimes Wanda's, fall asleep for the night, and dream up the pictures that he'd painted into your head.
There were two or three kids. One of them was always a boy. You were just getting home from somewhere, and Wanda was in the backyard of your house, watching the children play. The boy would be with one of the other kids, but when you approached Wanda and slid an arm around her waist, he'd run up to you. You'd ruffle a hand in his hair, and he'd giggle, light green eyes casting up to look at you. He had Wanda's eyes. You'd reach down and pick him up, kissing his cheek as he continued to laugh.
"Hi, Momma," he'd say.
"Hello, Pietro," you would reply every time. "Were you good for your mom today?"
Then he would nod and squirm a little, desperate to get back to his brothers or sisters. You'd set him down on his feet and he'd dash back to the others. You would lean into Wanda, then, kissing her softly. She would kiss you back, just as gently and lovingly as she did in your waking life. No words would be exchanged as you guided her to the bench swing, pulling her close and smiling as you both turned to watch your children laugh and play together.
It was just a dream, and it was entirely Tony's fault, you were sure. He'd put the idea of a family into your head and now you couldn't get it out. You'd always known you wanted kids and, even though you might not have known her all too long, you knew it was Wanda you wanted them with. She was your everything and you wouldn't want anything without her. Your future didn't exist without Wanda Maximoff.
"I've seen those dreams you've been having."
That honestly didn't surprise you too much. She'd seen your dreams on occasion. You'd learned that when you'd woken up absolutely drenched in sweat one night after a particularly inappropriate dream involving a particular witch. She'd watched your eyes open and immediately straddled your waist, promising to make your dream come true. You hadn't gone back to sleep that night, and it was clear as day that she had seen every single detail of that dream.
She was a mind reader. It wasn't hard for her to see just what was going on in your head; conscious or not. So, as you slept, she was able to see those images of you and she with your cozy little house and little Pietro smiling up at the both of you. It didn't surprise you, but it did make you a little nervous to know she'd seen them. You didn't want to seem like you were rushing into things at a pace that she wasn't ready for. You would wait forever for her.
You'd talked about it with her before. It was nothing too serious. It had been a simple conversation, the two of you discussing where you thought you might be five or ten years down the road. When you'd talked about it, the two of you hadn't been dating yet. You'd just been friends, both wanting to be more. It had been a quiet night, and you'd wanted to take her mind off Pietro, who had died only four months earlier.
Wanda pictured her future as a quieter life. She wanted a nice home on a quaint little street where she wanted a family, someone to love and maybe a couple of kids down the road. She'd told you she wasn't sure yet, if she wanted to continue being an Avenger. She hadn't always been fond of the sort of action you guys saw, but she knew she had the power to help people. Her heart was good. She couldn't just ignore that fact.
Your vision had been a little different. You were absolutely sure that you wanted to continue being an Avenger. You were a hero through and through. You couldn't imagine a life where you weren't doing what you did now: keeping people safe. You wanted to stay in New York, but maybe moving out into the suburbs in the outskirts of the city. You, too, wanted to start a family someday. Avenging could be a day job, you'd assured.
Then you'd gotten together. You'd admitted your feelings, you'd gone on some dates, and quickly, you'd fallen deeply in love with her. That dream of a future was still one you had: An Avenger by day and a wife and mother by night. At some point, though, that woman you saw yourself having that family with had become Wanda. Suddenly, you couldn't see it any other way. For a long time, you'd kept that from her. Now, though, she knew, and you were glad she did.
"What do you think of it? The dream," you asked carefully.
Wanda didn't answer right away. Her eyes had cast out the window to watch Cassie and Lila run through the yard, passing the ball between each other before Cassie turned and kicked it into the net. They both cheered loudly, raising their arms in the air, smiling widely, and high fiving. Their excitement made Wanda smile too. Her gaze turned back away from the yard and back to you, searching your face carefully. You let her study every detail of your eyes.
"I think it's beautiful."
Any life with her would have been beautiful. Anything with her was beautiful. You were absolutely sure Wanda Maximoff was the most beautiful thing in the world and there was nothing that could have changed your mind. The Avengers teased you sometimes. Natasha had teased one day, that you looked at your girlfriend as if she were the most exquisite piece in an art museum. You'd only assured her that no piece of art ever held a candle to the Sokovian.
"Would you..." You trailed off and took a breath, trying to figure out just what you were asking. "Would you consider it one day?"
Wanda didn't hesitate a millisecond. "I don't have to consider it. One day, Sweetheart."
That warmed you to your very soul. You put your hands on your cheeks and turned her face toward yours. You pressed your lips together, the feeling never failing to make your eyes flutter shut. You savoured the so familiar taste of her against your lips as you let your hands slide; one moved to the back of her neck to hold her close, and the other came to rest on her thigh. It wasn't a long kiss. It didn't need to be. It only took a few seconds to convey to her something words never could.
"How many?" She asked.
You laughed. "Two or three? What do you think, Baby?"
"Three," she hummed softly.
You couldn't believe that Tony was fucking right. Here you were with the woman you loved so dearly, babysitting your coworkers’ kids, and imagining having ones of your own someday. You had to admit, you did like it. They were a bit of a handful, that much was for sure, but you loved it. You loved watching their smiles, watching them play and laugh, and joining them in their fun and games. You loved seeing how Wanda would sit with them, cradle Nathaniel close, and read the girls bedtime stories. The thought of having this with her made your heart swell.
"Alright, where would we live?" You asked with a soft laugh.
"We'll stay near New York," she assured. "My big strong Avenger."
You laughed when she teasingly squeezed one of your biceps. You flexed a little, pressing the muscles against her hand. At this, the touches to your arm weren't so teasing. Her fingers traced the lines of the defined muscles that lay beneath your skin. You breathed out a quiet laugh, grabbing her hand and gently kissing against her knuckles. Her hand hesitated at your mouth as she ran the pad of her thumb across your bottom lip.
"Port Washington?" You offered. "Maybe a little way outside the city or in northern Jersey? I know you want to raise a family in a small town and New York City isn't exactly that."
She pressed her lips against your neck for a moment. "I love you."
You breathed out. "I love you, too."
She pulled away, moving to touch your knee instead. You put a hand over top of hers, turning to check on Cassie and Lila again. They'd taken to sitting in the grass, leaning against a tree trunk, and talking quietly. You weren't sure what about, but you were just glad that they seemed to still be having a good time. You slid Wanda's hand off your knee so that you could stand up.
"I'm just going to grab a snack for the girls," you kissed her cheek. "When I'm back, you can let me know if you've got any more ideas for this life of ours, huh?"
Wanda nodded.
You moved into the kitchen, opening up the pantry and putting together a couple of PB and Js, cutting them in half and setting them on the counter. You then mixed a few glasses of lemonade, put everything on a tray, and headed briefly back to the living room to hand one glass to Wanda, before heading out the back door. You whistled merrily, catching the girls' attention. They both smiled at your approach, and you settled into the grass beside them.
"For you."
They thanked you repeatedly, taking a plate and a glass each. You took your own glass, sitting back and sipping it as the cool breeze blew through your hair. You crossed your legs, watching their girls bite into their sandwiches. You tried to think back to what you'd been talking about at their age. You'd been in grade school and had often been in the schoolyard with your friends talking about boys. Well... they'd talk about boys and you would hesitate and make something up because you didn't know who the hell you liked.
"So, what are we talking about today, girls?"
"Lila was just telling me about a boy named Sam."
"Cassie!"
"What?" Cassie defended. "She's not gonna tell!"
You nodded. "Cassie is right, kid. I'm the best secret keeper probably ever."
Lila seemed to ponder this for a moment. It was a blatant lie, though. Every secret that was told to you was also told to Wanda, but it didn't go past there. You couldn't keep things from her. It was like she could pull anything from you with just a simple gaze from those light eyes. Even if you didn't tell her, she was a mind reader. Either she'd hear it from your lips, or she'd hear it running through your brain at one point or another.
Lila seemed to be contemplating this. "Okay. Well, there's this boy in my class. His name is Sam. I really like him."
"Oh, yeah?" You asked, sipping your lemonade. "So why don't you tell him that?"
"No! I can't tell him."
"Why not?" You scoffed. "What's the worst that could happen, Li? He either likes you back or he doesn't."
You'd always had trouble with your own advice. If you admitted your feelings to someone and they told you they didn't feel that same way, you felt awkward for months after that. But you were an adult. Lila was eleven. Even if kids these days were growing up way faster than you did, you knew that things were a lot more complex when you were a little more grown up. In a year or two, then she'd start realizing that.
"What about you, Cas? Any boys in your class you've got an eye on?" You winked.
Cassie didn't seem to find this very amusing though. Suddenly, it seemed, her sandwich wasn't very appetizing, and the lemonade had lost its sweetness. Her gaze moved to somewhere no one could meet it, locking to the ground as her fingers began playing absentmindedly with the grass. You tilted your head to the side curiously. You glanced over at Lila, but she didn't seem to know the reason for this either.
"Lila, could you give us a minute?" You asked the older of the girls. "Why don't you go see what Wanda is up to?"
Lila nodded and scampered off. She ran to the house and in the back door, and you watched in the window as she appeared beside Wanda. You saw her explaining something to the Sokovian, likely just trying to express that her friend was upset. You turned your focus to Cassie, who was busying herself by pulling a few blades of grass out of the ground. You didn't try to stop her, the fidgeting obviously calming her anxiety.
"What if..." She took a deep breath as she trailed off. "What if I think I like like a girl?"
Cassie Lang was ten years old. That's around the same age you started wondering what the other girls saw in boys. You hadn't realized as young as she did that you'd liked girls, but you knew something about you was different. At that age, you'd thought maybe something was wrong with you. It had taken you a few years to realize you weren't broken, just different. It had taken you even longer to realize that was okay.
You knew Cassie probably felt more comfortable asking one of her babysitters this question than anyone else. She trusted her parents and her stepdad, and she loved them, that much was clear. With them, though, she watched a man love a woman. With you, she watched you love Wanda the same way Scott loved Hope. She watched you do something she was feeling in herself. It made everything seem a little more normal and a little more okay. You knew that much from experience.
"Cas, look at me, Sweetheart," you said gently. Cassie looked up at you. "You can like whoever you want to like, and you can be whoever you want to be."
"But at school, all the girls like boys and I don't. Why don't I? I just want to be the same."
"Because not everyone is the same, and that's okay. You don't think there's anything wrong with me, do you?"
"No."
"No. And I love a girl. Isn't that okay?"
"Yeah."
Maybe it was a bit of a guilt trip, but it got Cassie to look up. You watched as her eyes travelled from you, to Wanda, and back. There was no longer any trace of nerves or anxiety on the young girl. It had instead been replaced by curiosity. It seemed your little pep talk had actually worked. She seemed more at ease after assurance that she didn't need to be normal. You knew that wasn't it for those nerves, you even got them yourself once in a while, but you were glad to have put her at ease for a while.
"Kiddo, are you going to talk to your mom or dad about this?"
As honoured as you were that you'd felt to be a safe person to come out to, you weren't really the person that she should be going to for support. Her mother and father would give her that. You didn't know Maggie well, but you knew Scott. He would be unconditionally supportive and wouldn't hesitate to reassure her if she ever felt like this again and if there were someone who didn't, he'd make sure to immediately remove that person from their life.
"I think I'm gonna talk to my dad when he gets home. Can you talk to him for me?"
"I can give him a little heads up, but you're going to have to be the one to actually talk to him."
She took a deep breath but nodded. "Okay."
You smiled proudly.
You sat with Cassie for a little while longer in that spot. Following your conversation, she seemed to be feeling better. She was eating and drinking again as she told you a little about this girl she was sweet on. You didn't comment too much, smiling and nodding along as she told you stories about the schoolyard. Soon enough you were once again trading places with Lila. The two girls resumed their gossiping in the grass, and you moved back to sit with your girlfriend once more.
When you sat down next to Wanda, glancing at a still sleeping Nathaniel as you moved, you immediately turned to the window. The two preteens had already regained that same calm expression they had been sporting earlier. Satisfied that they were both alright, now, you turned back to Wanda. She was watching you carefully, eyes flickering down to peek at the smile on your lips. You beckoned her to come back against you like she had been before you left.
"You and Cassie seemed to have quite the heart-to-heart," she hummed quietly as she leaned back against your side and your arm snaked around her.
"She confessed she might have a crush on a girl."
Wanda raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Well, I see why you were a safe person to confess that to."
You chuckled and kissed the side of her head. "Yeah, I do, too. I gave her a little bit of reassurance before telling her she should really talk to Scott or Maggie."
Wanda nodded in agreement. She reached out to the table to grab the glass of lemonade you'd made for her, sipping it quietly. The cool glass pressed against your arm when she lowered it, sending a shiver throughout your body. She seemed to notice this, as she laughed, moving the cold cup up to your cheek. The condensation that coated it transferred onto your skin and you frowned, pushing her hand away. She laughed a little harder.
"So, what did you come up with?" You asked her. "I seem to remember asking you to come up with some more details."
"You did. So, I wondered what Pietro's siblings' names might be?"
You froze. That was from your dream. You knew she'd been seeing it, but you still got a little curious when she brought up the more minor details. You turned to look at her, curiosity burning in your chest. Pietro was her brother, not yours. You wondered briefly if she even wanted to name any children she might have in the future after the brother she'd lost.
"Pietro," you repeated softly. "Is that okay?"
"Fuck, Honey."
Wanda rarely swore, so when she did, you knew she was feeling something strong. You were assured it was a good feeling, though, when she grabbed you and pulled you toward herself roughly. Your lips connected and you felt the intensity in her kiss. You didn't dare be the one to pull away from this, letting her show you how she was feeling through the intimate touch. When she finally did, her hands were immediately in yours.
"Thank you. He meant the world to me and you mean so, so much to me, too and... thank you, Honey."
"You don't have to thank me, Baby. He deserves it," you assured, a hand on her cheek. "But did you have other ideas too?"
She nodded. "I did. We'll obviously discuss more when the occasion arises, right?"
"Right," you agreed with a laugh. "So?"
"I like the name Tommy. It's cute, don't you think?"
"I do think so," you hummed.
You don't know what it was, but something had you so drawn to her in this moment. You wanted to pull her close and never let her go. Granted, you wanted that most of the time. Right now, though, the thought of releasing her from where you had her flush against your side, her head resting so softly on your shoulder, made your heart feel a little weaker. As if she could feed that absolute need radiating off of you, she kissed your shoulder and put her hand into yours, squeezing tight.
"Any girls' names you like?"
Wanda stopped to ponder. "Violet."
"That's cute too," you smiled at the thought of your family. "You're pretty good at this, my dear," you paused for a moment. "So, Pietro, Tommy, and Violet Maximoff?"
She hesitated at hearing that. Her head moved off your shoulder, and you immediately missed the lack of pressure. You had to suppress a quiet whine as you glanced over at the curious eyes that were peering at you. You cocked your head to the side, in the movement, willing her to tell you what was going on inside her head. You felt as though her eyes could see into your very soul with the way she was watching you.
"Maximoff," she finally said.
"Yeah. I like it," you told her. "And doesn't my name sound so good with your last?"
You didn't even have to say the name aloud. Just hearing it in her own mind had a shiver running through her body- something you felt it against your own. She didn't have to say aloud, either, that she loved the idea. You knew she did. You both did. It was something that made you entirely hers. You were entirely hers. You belonged to Wanda Maximoff and her last name attached to your first would prove that to anyone.
"One day," Wanda said, repeating the words you'd spoken earlier. "One day you'll be my Mrs. Maximoff."
It was your turn to hesitate at those words. You were both talking about this as if it were inevitable. As far as you were concerned, it was. You couldn't even picture a life that didn't have Wanda in it. You didn't want to. You wanted to be her wife and live in a small house in the suburbs and raise children with her. You wanted all of it so bad you could hardly fathom it. You turned to her, making sure to catch her eyes.
"Did we just get engaged?" You teased.
You hadn't, but you had. All engagement was, was a promise to be each other's and to get married. There was no time limit on that. In the last little while, you'd promised that to each other. You had both promised each other this entire life that you could see laid out before you. Neither of you had been discussing it as if it were a possibility, but more as an inevitability. That sure sounded like a promise to you.
"I don't know," Wanda admitted. "We agreed we'd get married one day."
"Yeah," you agreed. "We definitely did."
Then you decided to make it less of a question as to what had or had not happened. You slid away from her and stood up off the couch. You took a knee on the floor, bringing her hand into yours. Your heart was thumping so loud in your chest that you had to wonder whether or not she could hear it from where she sat. Judging by the way her eyes widened, though, you thought that maybe her own heartbeat was drowning it out.
You didn't think this was how you'd do this. Sure, you'd many times thought about how you'd one day propose to Wanda. In none of those scenarios was she sitting on the couch in Clint's living room whilst Nathaniel slept ten feet away with Lila and Cassie's giggles floating in through the window. They were usually a lot more romantic than this. You couldn't find it in yourself to care. This was the moment. You could feel it.
"So let me clear up the confusion," you offered, eyes not leaving hers. "Wanda Maximoff, I cannot picture my life without this little suburban house and these sweet little kids and you, my love. I will walk to the ends of the Earth and back for you. I'd give you my heart and my soul in an instant if you wanted me to. Will you marry me?"
Wanda didn't seem to be able to find her voice. Her expression was one of shock. Her jaw had dropped a little, and her eyes were wide, watering a little. You wanted more than anything to reach out and wipe those tears away and to kiss her cheeks, even if they weren't tears of sorrow. But your knee was glued to the floor until she gave you an answer. She seemed to collect herself, then. Her hands wiped at her eyes, her lips curled into a smile, and then, finally, she nodded.
"Yes. Of course, yes."
She pulled you back onto the couch. It might have been a little far, with your knees on either side of her waist. The two girls could have walked in at any moment. But you were so completely happy that there was absolutely nothing that would have stopped you from resting your arms on her shoulders, linking your hands behind her neck, and kissing her like you needed her more than you needed oxygen in your lungs. You supposed you might have. She finally pushed you away.
"I love you."
"I love you, too, beautiful fiancée of mine," you teased. "I guess Tony was right then, huh? The babysitting gig was good for us."
She laughed and then buried herself in your embrace. You held her there, not a single care in the world, knowing she was yours and you were hers. One day you would have a life a little like this one. You and she together with a family of your own and so much love around you.
It was all thanks to the stupid, stupid babysitting gig.
583 notes · View notes
ohheyitsokay · 3 years
Text
trials
this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe
pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader
wordcount: 2.1k
warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship, domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, angst with a happy ending
summary: this one is a Santi story - he tries to bring another girl into the relationship, and learns instead how much he loves you
it wont be everyone's cup of tea but I felt like it was an important part of the story
note: don’t hate Santi! I think this is a pretty normal, and the best sunsets come after rain
>>
Santi was the first to branch out. He didn’t mean to – hated himself for it a little, but he did.
This – whatever this is, it’s a ticking time bomb, he told Will. One of has to do something before it breaks all of our hearts.
It was a lie.
They both knew it. But he had the money and the looks and the confidence and he was just hurt enough by the sight of you asleep in Ben’s lap one afternoon that he just… let it get to him.
Brooded and boiled until he was overcome with false righteousness and pure selfishness.
He didn’t look you in the eyes when he told you he was going to try to get another girl. It wasn’t that he was leaving what you all had, just that he deserved a chance at whatever he called balance. His gaze in the other men’s eyes was too bold – the look of a desperate man, terrified of being hurt so causing it on his own terms.
You nodded numbly, shocked in spite of yourself, scolding and scathing voices in your mind telling you not to be selfish. Not to be greedy.
He deserves more than sharing.
Tucking yourself into Frankie’s arms, you tried not to glare or cry and only failed at the latter. Because it’s not the dating another girl that hurt, really it’s not. Polyamory is hard, and it was always an open option. What hurts is his blatant choice to ignore the relationship his has with you, specifically, that he’s ignoring everything you and him have worked for, built with love and time and care.
Rubbing gentle hands over your skin, Will and Frankie and Ben shared looks as Santi stalks away.
Frankie corners him in the garage the next morning. You had slept between him and Will the night before, but they had all felt you toss and turn, all spent a fair amount of time staring at the ceiling themselves. His dark eyes are an insecure that shoots into Frankie’s core – it’s a look he knows, has spent months overcoming. He swallows hard, his words dying in his throat, and he simply shakes his head.
It almost breaks Santi in two, the first moment one of his loves betrays the damage he’s done, but he tells himself there’s no going back.
“Better now than later, when our parents hate her or –”
Frankie’s look stops him and he flinches away.
Will is at the bar he chooses without an invite, knowing where he’d be without having to even ask and they both try not to think of you at home with Ben, probably dripping flames. Santi wonders if it hurts more to watch him flirt, or to do it, but neither of them say a word to each other. In spite of it all, the respect his judgement, respect his choice, and that hurts too.
It feels strange to have others looking him up and down and to look back, smile with lust void of love and soak in the attention.
Before he succumbs to it, Santi wishes Will would come over, slide his hand around his neck and… stop respecting him so much. It would pull him back, but since he doesn’t, the thought dies under the burn of cheap alcohol.
-
She’s lovely, really, graceful like a cat.
Santi has kept her from you all for a few weeks now, keeping his dignity with distance. But now she’s here, in your home, and you should be jealous but instead you just smile sadly at her, and slip off to the kitchen.
He likes… coffee, dark roast, with just a clump of raw sugar. You’re stirring it when you realize they followed you, hovering at the door. The ache of it is less than it was before and they’re happy together, so for his sake, you sit down across from her.
She’s kind, friendly. Knows the gist of the situation, tells you she’ll go at your pace.
And it crashes into you, how he’s pinned you at a time when know one else is home, offering her up to you like a plea, a child who used the superglue to make a gift, never mind the fact that his hands are both stuck to it and burning.
It feels reasonable to have another woman around, to make the numbers less absurd, to – to help you. Her smile is a little shy and she takes you hand and she looks at Santi with such adoration that a knot loosens in your chest involuntarily.
She doesn’t joke about it, any of it, and you almost wish she would. It would be so much easier to hate her if she was shallow, or stupid, or something but she’s not, and when she smiles you almost think you could be friends. You wonder if you could make it work, like they do for you.
Ben and Will come home early, stepping in like the angels they are, planting themselves solid at your side like trees with roots deeper than they are tall. When Frankie comes home, he takes the spot of the two of them as their eyes draw Santi into another room.
“What the fuck, Garcia,” Benny is as hurt as you are by it all, maybe more.
“Shut up Miller.” He’s glaring, filled with venomous satisfaction at how well the two of you have been talking.
“Cant you see it’s for the better?”
There’s silence – neither of them agree, too confused by him to respond.
“Don’t you ever wonder,” Santi tries again, knowing they’re listening because they love him too.
“No.” They spoke in unison, which makes Will roll his eyes. Neither of them hesitate, and something in Santi cracks.
-
You poke holes in the bottom of a styrofoam container with a plastic fork. She’s long gone now, but the date still lingers as you poke at your leftovers and try to unwind each moment of the date like strings of spaghetti.
On the surface it had gone well, you had thought you had fun until you felt a burn of tears under your eyelids.
Closing them you sigh, breathing like you practiced, gentle tides of love and logic washing over a feelings you tell yourself are selfish.
When you open your eyes, your Santi is standing behind her chair, and you almost cant breathe.
He went away for two weeks to help with a mission, and he’s here, one side of his mouth higher than the other. You want to kiss it, but you smile instead, and say, “You missed her by a couple minutes, sorry,” and actually mean it.
“I caught her in the parking lot,” he sits slowly, carefully, and when he reaches for your hands it’s almost tentative. It makes you blink again, how his eyebrows are bending. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t understand what it means, cant predict at all what he says next.
“I broke it off,” his eyes are in yours.
“I don’t understand,” you hear yourself say.
Santi searches for the words, like he had them but cant make them come out of his mouth.
“She’s not you,” he says. “I want you.”
You realize with a start that his hand is trembling, and he says your name in a way you’ve never heard before – like he’s terrified. That’s how badly he wants this, wants.. you. There’s no question in your mind, your eyes answer him.
It’s messy, not like a movie, the way he tugs you up and up and into his arms, the shudder of his broad shoulders and he buries himself into you as much as he can.
Like a hazy, blurry dream, your arms find their way around him, holding him like he’s fragile, another first.
He doesn’t say You’re enough for me, or You deserve the world, or anything dramatic.
Instead he says, “Can I buy you dinner?” And, “I’m sorry,” and “It’s been too long.”
And he says “I love you.”
-
He already asked the others, calling them each on his drive to you. Asked like he was young, if it was okay. Santi knew none of them had fallen in love with her, because even he hadn’t. But he had to ask for their permission as much as yours, to try to win you back.
They were more guarded than you, wary of his passion.
It takes time, and work.
He stays up later than he should talking with Benny about everything and nothing, hands nervously putting together snacks. When the younger man holds you, Santi teaches himself to join, to be held and hold you both. It feels good, which feels like guilt.
He works on that, too.
Frankie and him never talk about it. For weeks he thought his oldest friend had understood, more of less forgiven him without a word. One day they’re out for lunch, and his eyes flicker at the waitress, tucking her hair behind her ear. When he returns his gaze to the man across him, his blood runs cold. It’s been years since he’s seen furious determination brewing in Frankie’s dark, caring eyes, but it’s there now and he hates it. It takes discipline, to watch how he’s perceived as closely as he watched his intentions, but he does it.
It was easier than winning Will back.
“How long has your logic been shit?” Has your heart been in the wrong place this whole damn time?
“I just got on the wrong path, Ironhead.”
“Like hell you did,” his eyes were ice. “You let that happen.”
It would’ve been easier if he punched him. This wasn’t a kiss and make up moment either. The work ended up being long talks while you forced them to drive to pick you up when your car broke down the town over. Forcing words out being so honest it hurt, until has heart and throat felt raw. Making Will understand it was out of his own fears. Showing him how he was fixing it.
And weeks of letting with watch him again, eyes not missing a single touch or flinch or moment between you all. Actions to reinforce his words.
It hurt, but infinitely less than feeling distant from you all to begin with.
-
Will and your Catfish bring it up with you, one sunday afternoon as you tuck yourself between them and let their hands trace your skin.
“How are you doing?”
“I don’t know, Will. Better, I think. I missed him.”
Frankie places a row of warm kisses down the side of your neck.
“He missed you too. It’s Pope, he’s... he’s scared, love.”
“I don’t know if I believe that, yet.”
Ironhead grumbles at your confession, his big fingers squeezing the meat of your thigh.
“You gave him another chance, but you’re holding back. What does your gut say?”
“Unreliable - I’m in love with him.”
His head pops up and he kisses you before half-smiling. Frankie’s hand finds one of his, and they share a look.
“Can we tell you, querida? What we’ve seen.”
“Some objective evidence,” Will kisses you again.
“He loves us.” Another kiss. 
“You.”
-
It’s quiet as Santi flips through his latest files. The evening air is cool, and he should be getting ready for bed but you’re not home yet, and they’re all milling about waiting. You texted them how tired you were, what an awful evening you had.
“It should just be another couple of minutes,” Will says, and Frankie checks his watch. Ben wanders to the kitchen and they can hear him mixing hot chocolate.
When you walk through the front door, they fold you in their arms. Santi holds back, doubt still nagging at his mind. You let him back in, let him take you don't dates, but you didn’t fit together any more. He was running out of ways to communicate with you.
But you slump over, gently pushing aside his files and placing his laptop away before replacing it with yourself. Molding into him you sigh, and almost instantly fall asleep.
You’re small and vulnerable in his arms and the weight on his legs feels like trust.
The air in the room shifts, lighter, more breathable than it’s been in months. Adoring, proud eyes watch, and he wants to cry.
For the first time maybe ever, he’s sure that everything is going to be okay.
-
The bar was mercifully quite that evening, and if made it easy for you to find your love. A small, familiar feeling tugged in your gut as you made your way over to him, eyes on the waitress who was leaning over him with unwholesome intentions.
Then the feeling settled, and was replace with a warmer feeling. She was putting down a tray that had your order on it, and Santi was thanking her, distracted checking your message on his phone.
“Hey, handsome,” you said, the warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. “Can we actually get out of here?”
His brown eyes were big, dark lashes catching the low lights as he stared at you. Somewhere in his mind, he thought too protest because your drink just got there, but the words stuck on his tongue. 
“Yeah... yeah of course, baby,” He signaled for the check before standing to draw you in his arms. Saying no to you had never really been an option. 
The two of you barely made it to his truck before your hands were all over each other. You liked the feel of him, pinning you against the metal frame, the desperate way he kissed you.
Pope was saying something about how you looked so fucking sexy, needing him so badly you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t concentrate on them. 
“Pope,” you said against his skin, sliding your hands under his shirt. In response, he only made a soft groaning noise and increases his urgency.
"Santi," you tried again, before your own gasp cut you off.
"Santi - fuck - Santiago!"
The look he gave you was that of a dog, when you held the treat just out of reach.
"I'm yours," you said, pulling his head in to press against your forehead. "And you," you kissed him, hard, fingers gripping his beautiful curls. "Are mine."
"Fuck," you could feel his heartbeat, his pulse, he was pressing into you so hard, like he wanted to blur where he ended and you began. You knew he understood.
"I am," he said into your skin again and again that evening. Not selfish position, a promise and a proclamation: "I'm yours."
"I'm yours."
<<
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hihellogoodbyebruh · 3 years
Text
I Know What You’re Thinking, You’re On My Mind (You’re Right)
Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Plus Size!Reader
Summary: Y/N and Angel are in love and these are different moments in the span of their relationship.
Warning(s): Just a lot of fluffy goodness....okay some angst (it’s me lol) but mostly fluff
Word count: 2,526
AN: This is kind of a songfic, but also not really? I think of it as a bunch of drabbles loosely connected by random parts of a song. Song title and inspo from Come Close by Common ft. Mary J. Blige. The sweetest little fic I’ve ever written. Fat Black girls deserve to be loved loudly. This is for us. As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcomed. Happy reading lovelies! xo
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Smile, happiness, you could model it And when you feel opposite I just want you to know Your whole, being is beautiful I'ma do the best I can do Cause I'm my best when I'm with you
The sound of a domino being slammed on the table caused several other park goers to turn their heads and see a striking woman jumping out of her seat.
“That’s domino bitches! Y’all really thought you could beat me in dominoes? Shoulda checked my credentials mofos!” Y/N shouted, a huge smile on her face as she talked shit.
The guys around the table all groaned and huffed as she celebrated her win. Coco swore up and down that he would be the winner and Gilly was just as sure that he would be the one. EZ just wanted to play and Angel kept his mouth shut knowing his girl had been playing dominoes with her father and uncles practically all her life.
“Whatever, Y/N. You not seeing me in poker.” Coco grumbled, though he was fighting to keep a smile off his face. He was impressed.
“Well this aint poker is it? Run me my money.” She replied, rubbing her fingers together before holding out her hand.
The men all pulled out their wallets and placed the correct amount of money into Y/N’s hands. She grinned as she fanned herself with the money before draping her body across the smirking Angel’s lap.
“Oh hey there sexy. If you’re nice I might buy you something with this considerable fortune I just won.” Y/N winked.
“You my sugar mama now?” Angel teasingly asked.
“I do taste sweet so I think I fit the description.”
“Damn right you do.” He smirked, before leaning down to kiss Y/N’s lips.
Santo Padre’s mayor, Antonia Pena, had put together a community fair to help raise money for the town and uplift spirits. It was also a great way for local businesses to showcase what they have to offer. Services and items were put into a raffle that everyone who attended the event got entered into. Y/N even managed to convince Felipe to have a little booth to show off his fine cuts of meat and how they could best be used in meals.
Angel was so in awe of her. She managed to pull even his grumpy ass father out of the house and she was constantly a source of light in his life. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but he knew he never wanted to let her go. He loved her more than anything and he knew she felt the same about him. She never doubted him or made him feel inadequate. She understood even the ugly parts of him. Didn’t excuse or condone his behavior, but she understood it and always reassured him that she knew he could do better.
“Whatchu staring at?” She asked, after the kiss ended and he kept his intense gaze on her.
“My whole world.” He answered honestly and she felt herself get a little emotional.
“If you make me cry in public, I will hurt you.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He replied, nipping at her shoulder and making her grin.
I know in the past, love Has been sort of hard on you But I see the God in you I just want to nurture it Though this love may hurt a bit
Neither of them had the best track record when it came to relationships. Angel had an awful habit of doing things without thinking about the consequences of his actions. Impulsive isn’t a strong enough word to describe how he is. He runs on emotion a lot of the time. It frustrates Y/N to no end. She doesn’t operate like that. She rarely if ever acts on impulse. She thinks too much. Worries too much about how people will react to her and her actions. Her hesitance to engage in things before she’s run every possible scenario through her head makes Angel want to pull his hair out. He hates seeing her unsure of herself. He makes it his mission to help her just get lost in the moment sometimes. And she tries her hardest to slow him down and make him think more on things before he acts.
His lifestyle also guaranteed their love won’t always be sunshine and roses. The first time Angel got hurt Y/N thought she was going to pass out. The level of panic and fear she felt almost took her down. When she finally got to see him in the hospital bed, she burst into tears. Once he was healed, she tried to pull away from him but he wouldn’t let her. The one time Y/N was verbally and physically accosted in front of Angel, he almost shot someone right in front of her. The need to protect her almost overrode his need to keep her away from the more violent side of himself.
The silence was deafening. Neither one was ready to take the first step and speak. The whole ride back home, Y/N never said a word. Not when Angel was getting chewed out by Bishop or when several people practically gawked at her even as they tried to make it seem like they weren’t. She was silent as she went through her nightly routine and prepared for bed.
It was as she sat on the edge of the bed, preparing to slide under the covers that Angel finally snapped.
“You’re really not gonna fucking say anything?” He practically growled at her, glaring at her from where he stood at the foot of the bed. He had on his usual sleepwear of a tank top and sweats.
She sighed, “What do you want me to say Angel?”
“Anything. Cuss me out, kiss me, or I don’t know, maybe thank me?” He suggested, sarcasm in his voice at the last part because he was clearly exasperated.
She cut her eyes at him fiercely. “Thank you? You want me to thank you?”
“Yes.” He stubbornly confirmed.
She shot up from the bed and spun to face him full on. She had never been so mad at him. “Thank you Angel for causing a bigger scene. Thank you Angel for almost igniting a war between two gangs over one stupid joke. Thank you for putting yourself in harm's way and almost giving me a heart attack. Thank you so much Angel.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. It wasn’t just a stupid joke. You think I care so little about you that I wouldn’t fuck someone up for you?”
“I’ve heard way worse..” She argued, so used to minimizing her pain. Her dismissal of the incident as something trivial made him even more pissed.
“I don’t give a damn what you heard. Aint nobody gonna disrespect you in front of me and think I’m just gonna let that shit slide.”
“You could have killed him.”
“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK.” He exploded, making her freeze and stare at him with her mouth slightly open. “You’re mine. I don’t know what kinda cowards you been dealing with before, but I don’t play that shit. There is no joking when it comes to you. Not from some hijo de puta who has the audacity to put his hands on you. He’s lucky the only thing I did was bust him in the head with my pistol.”
“Angel…..” She sighed, her eyes closing as she took in his words. She understood his point but was still uncomfortable with the methods.
He walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her forehead before resting his head on hers. He spoke only after she opened her eyes, “You can be mad. I already know you are, but I’m not apologizing for protecting you.”
She had to get used to being loved and protected so adamantly by someone. So often left to comfort herself and bury her hurt, it took her a while to accept Angel’s form of protection. A part of her kept her guard up waiting for him to turn it against her, but that day never came. Any violent outbursts he had in her presence were never directed at her and so she found herself trusting him whole-heartedly. Her love for him deepened as time moved forward.
You helped me to discover me I just want you to put trust in me
Y/N loved Pops and she enjoyed the family dinners with him and EZ, but she knew he was not the perfect father. He made mistakes and Angel still hasn’t completely dealt with the issues the mistakes left him with. Everything just got buried. She knew when he was starting to feel inadequate or like he didn’t deserve her because he would become even more clingy. He was already very affectionate with her, always having a hand on her back and kissing her head. She loved how open he was, but when he was going through it the touches would have a desperate edge to them. Like he was trying to prove something.
A new episode of Joseline’s Cabaret played on the tv showing off the Puerto Rican Princess’ latest antics. Y/N had on sweats and a tank top as she laid on your back and giggled at the fight on her screen. She doesn't know why she watches that show, but it was entertaining.
Her front door opened and in walked the man she’d been seeing for a year now.
“What did I tell you about leaving this door unlocked?”
“I knew you were coming over so why would I lock it?” She argued, tilting her head back to watch Angel toe off his shoes and take off his kutte.
“You’re so hard headed.” He slapped the outside of her thigh and leaned in for a kiss before lying in between her legs. His head rested on her stomach and her hands immediately began running through his hair. His hands ran over her thighs as he buried his face in her belly and just breathed her in.
“You walked right in so obviously I was right.” Her hands moved from his hair to slide down his back, feeling for any new bruises. “How was your day? Do I gotta kick someone’s ass for messing with my man?” She asked, a teasing tone to her words even though she was kinda being serious.
“I’m all good, mi dulce.” He responded, already knowing her touches were to comfort him but also give herself some peace of mind that he was with her and he was still whole.
It was quiet for a moment before Angel propped his chin on her belly and looked at her. She brought her attention from the television to him. There was a gentle look in his eyes, full of love but also a vulnerability that made her heart clench.
“You love me right?” He gripped her hips tightly as he searched her eyes for the truth in her words.
Her eyes widened at his question. “Of cour-”
He interrupted her. “Because I love you so damn much, querida. I know I’m not easy, but I try to be better for you.”
“Angel…” Her hand gently caressed his cheek as she softly smiled at him. “You are my favorite person in this whole world. You love me like no other and I’ll always love you. Never forget that. And when you do, I’ll be here to remind you.” She leaned forward to kiss his lips and felt his grip on her hips loosen.
The two shared loving kisses for several minutes before he pulled away and kissed her stomach before laying his head back down. His attention finally focused on the television. “What the fuck are you watching?”
She was unable to contain her giggles.
I kind of laugh when you cuss at me The aftermath is you touching me
“Oh, is that funny? Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Not at all gorgeous.” His words and his facial expression did not match.
“Then why are you smirking? I’m as serious as a heart attack. If you miss the ceremony where I’m awarded for my work, we’re gonna have some big problems Reyes.” She threatened, not letting that smirk get to her as it usually did. The club pulled him away a lot but some things she just needed him present for.
“Mmhm…how big?” He asked, still joking around.
“Angel!” She admonished, striking out to punch him in the stomach and making him grunt.
“You know I love when you scream my name. Sexy as fuck.” He growled, before playfully tackling her to the bed. She finally laughed as he kissed and nipped at her neck. He pulled back to look down in her eyes. “Hey, come hell or high water Imma be there. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
The smile she flashed him was bright enough to light the darkest of nights.
I'm tired of the fast lane I want you to have my last name
Dabbing her eyes with a napkin, Y/N smiled as Angel and EZ shared a heartfelt hug after the best man speech. She knew EZ’s speech would be beautiful and she thanked him for his kind words.
“You’re my sister for real now.” He responded, making her wanna cry again but she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before Angel pulled her into a side hug.
“First dance time.” He whispered in her ear, taking her hand and leading her out to the dance floor.
“How does it feel to be Y/N Reyes?” Angel asked, his eyes taking her in. She looked so magnificent in her wedding dress. He wanted to rip it off, but also he couldn’t take his eyes off how good she looked in it. If he shed some tears when she walked down that aisle, who could blame him?
“It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m so beyond honored to be Mrs. Angel Reyes.” She responded, her eyes filling with happy tears but she refused to let them fall. She just felt so overwhelmed with happiness. Even though he’d long gotten rid of the jacket, she loved that he actually wore a suit. He hardly ever wore one and it was a damn shame. He looked so delicious she couldn’t wait for them to get back home.
Y/N found herself really taking the moment in. Their family and friends watched them with huge smiles on their faces. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Angel for long as he held her in his arms, his hands always making her feel safe. This was her life and he was her future.
Her eyes twinkled as she asked him, “Ready for forever?”
Come close to me, baby (Yeah, love) Let your love hold you (Let me hold you tonight, babe) I know this world is crazy (It gets crazy, but I'll be right here) What's it without you? (We gon' make it, I love you, I love you, I love you)
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xo-cuteplosion-xo · 3 years
Note
Yayy! Requests from one of my fave writers are open💕💕💕
Soo, I’ve had this fic idea for quite some time in my mind and it could be interesting. I would love to see a Dazai x Fem!Reader where the reader is a new member of the agency and have been work partners for quite some time with Dazai. The reader feels insecure because Dazai doesn't do his usual flirty stuff to her, but that's only because Dazai doesn't know how to deal with the feeling of real love, and one day, they have a painful talk about it (which starts with the reader confronting him about this when he asks what’s wrong, maybe?)- I would love for this to go from angst to fluff, thank you so much 💔💕
Awwww! I'm a favorite writer of yours! Thank you for such a generous compliment!
My belladonna |Dazai x Female Reader|
Warnings: dazai’s typical thoughts, long fic
Words: 2,385
I worked hard on this one, so I hope you like it. The fluff does take a bit but I assure you the fluff at the end is worth the angst!
Love, a humane concept many never give a second thought towards. What is love exactly? Is it the feeling of being happy which is caused by another? Then what separates love from a deep underlying friendship? Is it the fluttering tightness in your chest? Could it be the sweat and discomfort that forms near somebody you supposedly love? Was love only something a sane person who understands the meaning behind being human can feel and understand? Love raises so many questions it’s better to ignore all contact, to avoid anything that could lead to falling deeper. 
Dazai had never put so much of his mind's capabilities onto a feeling before. He’d never wondered what love meant. His eyes stared off beyond the clouds as he thought about his recent missions with her. She was always so different from the other women he knew or had met over the years. The way she made her presence known in the room, or how her body seemed to be the last thing he noticed. That was important, at least when looking at Dazai. Dazai was not a man of the gentlemen variety. He actually rather impolite, some could say disgusting. He was, after all, a womanizer. It was no unknown fact he slept around, flirted, and even treated women with disrespect. Yet here she was, the newest member of the agency, his current partner. He could hardly glance her way without being star-struck. His eyes would nearly reflect the look of a teenage boy lost in a fantasy. He imagined what her voice would sound like, saying I love you, thank you, you're welcome. He imagined what goodbye embraces and welcome back embraces would feel like. Imagined her kindness, pointed and focused on him. All of this made him confused, he’d never been here before. Nobody in all his miserable years had ever strayed his thoughts to such territory. To avoid confronting the feelings that may or may not spook him, he ignored her. He treated her like he would any other co-worker. He never once asked her his questions of the suicidal manor. He never once flirted with her, he hardly talked to her.
You grew to notice these things over time. The way he avoided you; like you were some disaster waiting to happen. The way he flirted with almost every other woman besides you. Every time you worked by his side, the pain only increased. The thud of your own heart kept you from falling over the pain. Every time he glanced another's way, felt like another dagger stabbed to your side. Thoughts of what if’s eventually circled within your head. Asking yourself if you had done something to insult him. Even his coworkers couldn’t give you a solid answer to Dazai’s behavior. No matter what you did for him, he never seemed to show an ounce of care in your direction. He didn’t touch the gifts you gave him, no matter what they were. Even if they were tips on his little obsession with suicide, he ignored them. He couldn’t face you in person either. Unless you worked together, he hardly spoke to you. 
Like any sane person, you couldn’t handle it anymore. A confrontation was called for.
~
Beneath the moonlight, as the hours of the agency closed and Dazai stayed behind, you fell back to have privacy with him. Even as the others left and bid you good luck with confronting him, you stayed put. It wasn’t that Dazai stayed late to work, he stayed late to make sure everything was alright with the agency, and to grab any leftover coffee/food from the day. He hadn’t expected to run into you as he attempted to leave with a few bags of collected things, stolen things. The moonlight glimmered against your reflection, illuminating your every feature. His eyes instantly darted from you to the door. Unsure how to respond, he let the atmosphere settle in, despite the awkwardness. “We need to talk.” Your voice despite the slight aggravation was more than angelic to him.
Putting on a smile, he raised a brow to play off the thudding pound of his heart. “Oh? We do, did something come up?” he sounded almost nervous, but he masked it enough to hide it from you.
Another silence folded over the two. With every moment, Dazai became less and less comfortable. Being in her presence was enough to send his mind whirling with confusing thoughts again. Her own nerves were starting to act up. Having to hold her hands behind her back as she fidgeted. Within the dimly lit room, illuminated by a few lights and the moon, they stood. Neither of them spoke, afraid of what came after the silence.
That was until your voice picked up from the silence. Shattering it with a soft echo. Speaking with a meek voice, you asked Dazai about his recent behavior with you. “Do you hate me?” The words slipped with ease, but hurt to speak. Afraid, he'll choke on his answer and tell you that you had done something to harm his ego, or that he didn’t find you interesting.
Dazai’s hands slid into his pockets, clenching together tightly. “No, why would you think I hate you?” he spoke clearly with no hint of nervous hesitation or lies. Yet, you could not believe him. Within his body language, the lack of eye contact, the unsure tilt of the head, the slip of his hands to his pockets, it all told you he was hiding something. 
Exhaling as calmly as you could to calm your nervous chatter, you spoke up again. “Look at me then.” You hissed the words, your own eyes darting to look away from him.
Dazai froze before his head slowly shook. “I can’t,” he mumbled. His voice losing the usual confident, cocky tone as he spoke. There was no childish intent, no cocky extent, no humor to his voice. It was bland with nervous fear.
“Because you don’t like me.” Saying the words out loud made the knives that struck through turn into poisonous bullets. Each word, each realization had the initial sting of a bullet, but left a thudding emptiness, the poison.
“I don't,” he whispered. Though his voice cracked in a waiver. His breathing unsteady to match your own rapid breaths. His heart pounded with a fear he’d never felt before. His heart, his mind, it was still too confusing. He didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend this feeling.
“Yes, you do! You treat every other woman the same! I wouldn’t mind if you just… if you just didn’t flirt, but you… you won’t even look at me!” with every pause and stutter, the pain grew. With every pause, your voice picked up. The ocean of emotion you had left untouched and sealed, starting to unravel and make sense. 
“... I…” Dazai had no reply to your words. His head screamed at him to reach out and grab hold of you. To drop down and do as he always did. Another half of him told him to pull something else. To pull out a gift and woo you with flowers and soft praises. He didn’t understand how to truly appreciate this feeling or how to acknowledge it. He wants so much revolving around you, but he didn’t know what to do. Not even his words could form a snarky comeback or an excuse. He couldn’t pull the usual words like, you’re just too stunning to look at. 
Watching his silence, and the only word he spit be a single vowel, you shook your head. The emotional fire within your chest letting go. You turned towards the door rather dramatically. Your hand grasping the handle in a swift motion. “You’re a selfish bastard Dazai. You’re a selfish bastard. Letting women fall in love only to rip their hearts from their chests. I knew you were one of those men, yet I still… I still gave it to you.” Dropping the anger and the loudness of your voice you spoke softly. With slight drips of venom being used to cover the pain consuming you.
He watched her pull the door open in one single movement. His eyes traced her movements as the door slammed. The words she spoke took what felt like millennia to make sense. He kept trying to make sense of her words, he didn’t understand any of them. He couldn’t until he took into thought his own heart. He stopped trying to make sense, and rather let his heart make sense of it. Understanding human emotions, understanding what made humans… Well, humans, was never his forte. Not a second later, his eyes shot wide and his lips parted with shock. A new thought he’d never understand crossing his restless mind. “Why, why would she love me?” he shook away the thought, reaching for the handle of the door and flinging it open. Never in his life had he been the one doing the chase, yet here he was doing just that. His feet carried him down the stairs and out of the building. The slow patter of the rain provides a dramatic splatter when his feet hit the cold cement. His breaths formed white puffs of air as he skidded to a stop. Thinking back to missions, recalling the sentences he’d tried to ignore. The things about her he tried to ignore. The invitations to walk. The way she came up behind him, trying to interact while he ignored her. Without having to recall much, his feet swerved to the left and ran. His feet slid here and there over the slippery gravel, the mud, and sharp turns. His gut led him instead of his mind. For once, he was trusting his instincts. The park his heart shouted. The first time he’d truly fallen for her, the smile she gave him on her first day. It was love at first sight. Love, admitting it was really such a humane feeling was terrifying. Yes, he’d always wanted to understand humanity, but starting with something that could end in flames or bliss... was no more terrifying than standing over the ledge of a cliff. 
As your feet came to a sudden halt, you found yourself at the park. Remembering the way he looked and acted when you first joined brought more water to gather along with the rain. Slipping down onto the bench, covered with the sky's tears, you curled your legs into your chest. Burying your face into your knees, you swore to yourself this wouldn’t happen again. You had been a fool, hadn't you? A fool to love a man like Dazai. Somebody obsessed with suicide and willing to flirt with every woman his eyes caught. Slowly, the rain began to pick up its pace. The moon reflected in puddles where the mud could no longer soak up its water.
He searched the area for a while despite the quickening pace of the rain. As his eyes settled against your drenched form, the way you cuddled against yourself, his heart cracked. His arms slipped from his jacket despite it being somewhat wet. While he was nervous, he snuck up behind you and rested his coat on your shoulders. He took a seat at the other end of the bench. Pulling his knees to his chest, he decided to finally share why he’d been so distant and a jerk towards you. “I was scared. I ignored, avoided, and pretended to not notice you because I was afraid.” Your glance was doubtful, after all, when was he ever scared of something? “Doubting me? I get why, I'm never scared, that's what you think right?" there was a small nod from your head, but it caused him to sigh. “I do get scared, emotions scare me. Feeling human, it’s what I want, I want to understand what it is to be human, but starting out with this… it’s terrifying.” Watching as you didn’t respond but look away, he let out a frustrated groan.
“Just, leave me alone Dazai.” Your whispers hurt. The pain reflected in your words hurt more than any wound he’d ever found himself inflicted with. He hated pain and suffering, and that’s what this was.
“I can’t, I won’t not anymore. I… fuck, I don’t understand it. I don’t… it’s hard to admit things like this belladonna… I fell in love. I don’t know how to deal with whatever this is!” His words came rushed and panicked. His hands found their way into his hair, tangling with the drenched locks. Thunder thudded softly in the sky as lightning crackled. 
Your hand reached your eyes as you shook your head. “Please, please stop it. Don’t call me that! You don’t mean it. Stop trying to just make yourself feel better.” You whispered the words again until he forcefully brought your head to meet his chest. He held you tightly, running his hand over your back as he rocked back and forth. 
“I’m not lying, not playing games. You’re amazing in every way possible. I still can’t understand why you'd like me.” Dazai whispered the words next to your ear. Holding you within the rain until your body stopped its trembles. What you did next shocked him more than any action that went outside his predictions did. Your lips planted themselves on his. At first, it seemed you were unsure about this. He didn’t kiss back at first, when he made his mind up, it was too late. You had pulled away ready to collect excuses. Before your lips could part with said excuses, his hands moved and cupped your face. His lips came crashing down on yours. He’d never felt this before, a spark, a real feeling in a kiss. When the two of you needed air, he moved away with a slight smile. “We should… get out of the rain before we both catch a cold.”
Blushing you tugged on the fabric of his clothes, telling him to lift you. “Yeah, we should, Kunikida would kill us both if we get sick.” You chuckled lightly, sniffling as Dazai lifted you into his arms. 
“Remind me where your place is again?” with a snicker, you told him the address and allowed yourself to drift off to sleep while he carried you. “I love you, belladonna.”
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awkwxrdapple · 3 years
Text
Fallen Angel (Part 2) - Peter Parker x reader
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PART 1
Request reminder: Hi! I love your writing! I was hoping you could do a peter x reader where the reader gets badly hurt and captured and it takes a long time for the avengers and peter to find her and once they do, she is scared half to death, jumpy, nervous, and stays by Peter’s side during pretty much everything. They are living in the avengers tower with everyone and since they are the youngest, Peter is particularly protective of her during her recovery. Thank you!
Word count: 1.5k
WARNINGS: mentions of anxiety, light torture, injury, trauma (after reading if you think I should include any others please let me know thank you)
Part 2
The hours that had passed felt like months. Soon you had lost track of how long you thought you had been strapped to a chair in that room, and with every physical injury you felt your resolve falter more and more. 
You would never give them what they wanted - that you were sure of. So unfortunately for you, whoever was holding you was getting more impatient and frustrated, taking it out on you even more to try and get what they wanted. You hoped maybe they would give up after it was obvious you wouldn't crack, but they didn't seem to think so. 
They could see they were breaking you on the outside. Little did they know you were not utterly terrified. Every sound in the room made you jump, and every touch made you flinch so hard the ropes holding you cut into your skin. You were a mess, both inside and out. But you still wouldn't give them what they wanted. 
Dropping down in front of you like he had done before the beating began, the first man who spoke to you sighed and held your chin to force you to look at him. 
"Y/N I hate to keep asking but you really give me no choice."
He used the back of his hand to slap you harshly across the cheek. Any other day that wouldn't have phased you that much, but due to the already existing wounds put there by either him or one of his other men, it stung and brought more tears to your eyes. 
"N-no." You wept. You were now openly crying but you didn't care. All that mattered is that they didn't get what they wanted. You wouldn't give them any information about the Avengers. 
The man's annoyance was growing even more that before. It terrified you. You knew they needed you alive but they could still do many things to you before you died. 
You thought about Peter, about your best friend, and somehow that gave you more strength to hang on. Would he be out there looking for you? Would they even have any way to find you? You hoped with every fibre of your broken body that Peter was on his way to help you. You even hated being apart from him for this long. 
"I really do hate doing this to you Y/N…"
You hated that he kept using your first name like you were old friends.
No you don't. You thought, before a punch was directed at your gut. 
+  +  +
Once Peter had suited up he paced nervously waiting for Tony to get into the Iron Man armour. Nat had caught onto the situation and was joining the both of them on your rescue mission. Nobody knew why or who had wanted to kidnap you. They hadn't received a message requesting a ransom for your return, so it was clear a more sinister plot was at play. 
Upon arriving at the old warehouse that your phone signal was coming from, the trio split up to try and cover more ground. If you were inside the building, it would then be a faster process to find you and get you out. Alive. 
Peter was the one to find you. 
You became worried when you heard shouting and loud thumps from outside the door. The noises started to make you shake with fear and soon you were crying softly again. 
There was a few moments of complete silence before the door was kicked in, flying completely off its hinges and into the room narrowly missing you. 
It was almost as if your luck had completely changed and you sobbed audibly upon seeing him.
There was one other man in the room with you who went for his gun as soon as he spotted the red and blue, but Peter was quicker. He disarmed the man swiftly and carefully and sent an elbow to his face cleanly knocking him out. 
"Y/N!" Peter's astonishment at your appearance was coupled with relief and something else you couldn't quite place. For a moment you thought it was anger. Was he angry at you? Had you caused so much disruption that he was angry at you? 
"Tony, Nat!" Peter also called out through his comms unit and soon the two Avengers ran into the room too. 
Tony cut and removed your bonds and let Peter move in closer to you so your body could fall into his. He used a spare hand to rip his mask off so you could look at him properly. His soft brown eyes were full of concern. You sagged into him further as you had no more energy left to hold yourself up.
"Hey Y/N stay with me, ok baby. Stay with me." 
Baby. 
The endearment was lost on you as you were falling in and out of consciousness. The darkness of the room wasn't helping your extreme fatigue and shock. Even though you were being rescued, you were still terrified. 
In the corner of your eye you could see another man in black come into the room but Nat dealt with him. For a second you felt a shriek of fear nearly come out of you but as you saw his limp body fall to the ground it was lost.
Peter's strong but gentle arms were wrapped around your body as he lifted to you up swiftly to his chest. You could hear sobs, which after a few seconds you realised were your own. Hearing these, Peter hugged you even closer to him and you instinctively moved closer into his embrace. This was the closest feeling to being safe that you had felt since you had been taken. 
He was warm, and smelt of home. Quickly your sobs turned from fear to relief. 
"Ok, let's get her out of here." Peter commanded. 
Tony and Nat went in front of Peter and led the way through the also dimly lit corridors. When you reached the door that let into outside, you had to squint from the brightness and turn your face further into Peter. There was noise outside too, too much of it. Cars were bustling up and down the street. 
"Did you find out anything about them?" Nat asked Tony, slightly out of breath from running. 
"No, all of their software was encrypted so well that even I couldn't hack it." 
Nat sighed. Your safety and wellbeing was a bigger concern at the moment though. They needed to get you back to the Tower as soon as they could and get you checked over. Just one quick glance at you would make any one aware of your fragile state. 
Peter was still whispering encouragement to you as you gripped onto him. 
“You're safe now Y/N."
"I've got you."
"Stay with me, we're going home." 
"You are so strong Y/N."
Soon though, you couldn't hold onto consciousness, and you fell asleep exhausted in Peter's arms. 
+  +  +
A steady beeping woke you up.
You could tell you were back in the Tower, everything was cleaner, whiter, lighter. Your head hurt, everywhere hurt if you thought about it long enough, but you also felt strangely numb. There was an IV drip linked to your left arm, and two other nodes tapped into your chest to measure your heart rate. 
Even though you knew you were safe, there was still that lingering adrenaline. Something that still had you on edge. You knew you weren't held captive for very long, regardless of however long it felt, but it didn't matter. The damage had been done. 
Starting to feel yourself panicking again, remembering all of the physical abuse you had been put through, the beeping quickly became closer together, seeming louder. This in turn created more panic as the noise fed your anxiety. 
In the next moment Tony and Peter rushed into the room. In your panic you were struggling to breathe. You were having a panic attack. 
You tried to sit up and reach for Peter who had moved to you. This movement pulled the IV from your arm. 
"Help me!" You managed to get out. You couldn't even tell him what you needed physical help from. You were safe now. But you couldn't get out of your head everything that had happened to you. 
"Y/N, I promise you that you are safe." Peter took hold of your hands and let you squeeze as hard as you needed to. 
Peter and Tony shared a look because of your distress. There was no way Tony would be able to get the IV back into you as you were now shaking uncontrollably. 
"Don't worry Y/N this will allow you to sleep." Tony said gently. 
You felt yourself nodding, before once again, drifting off. 
Tag list: @unmistakablyunknown​ @oxodianaoxo​ @tazishereforu @lovely-blackinnon​ @bibliophilewednesday​ @fuckingalohomora-bitch​ 
If you would like to be in the tag list for part 3 or any of my other Peter Parker imagines please let me know!
Masterlist
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zuluc · 3 years
Text
@clyeste​ requested: Your writing is absolutely amazing! Can I request bulleted head cannons for a male reader x Kaeya. Specifically I want the good stuff, a love hate relationship where Reader is really snarky and teasing with Kaeya, but with everyone else is just super nice and charismatic (borderline flirty.) Bonus points if it's because reader doesn't understand how to express that they like Kaeya so that's how they are trying to seperate him from the others <3
pairing: kaeya alberich x male!reader
style & genre: bulleted; fluff
warnings: none
notes: i was very excited to write this one haha i think i got a little carried away tho
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to outsiders, it seemed that you both could not stand each other
the comments and remarks would make a passerby question your intentions, but it only entices a much more interesting conversation between you two
now, you were well known in Mondstadt as one of the most wanted bachelors
next to diluc and kaeya that is
ever since you walked through the entrance, both men and women flocked about you once you opened your mouth, entranced by how nice you sounded when you talked and how you presented yourself
even the cavalry captain himself was interested
kaeya would catch wind of your escapades: visiting the tavern late at night to have a drink with the townspeople or walking around the city with the ladies
you would offer helping out others in their daily tasks and they would stutter over their words when you flash them a smile
you even received a few suitors and suitresses as well considering how kind and caring you were to everyone
everyone except him anyways
your usual interactions would consist of mostly one-sided flirty and snarky comebacks
kaeya always takes the initiative to graze his fingers along your waist when you are both near each other, enjoying the flush coming to your face before you push him off and turn away with a huff
he openly flirts with you and enjoys when you return his advances
days you say you’re in a good mood, otherwise you completely ignore him
“how is the most handsome man in all of tevyat?”
“I don’t know, how are you, Captain Kaeya?”
kaeya doesn’t blush but with you, he will at least try to weakly deny it
along with responding to some of the flirting, you quite obviously steer away from indicating romance of any sorts with him
it confuses him
jean places the both of you on missions frequently during which you have small fights about the little things
on one mission he gets hit by an abyss mage and you have to drag him to a nearby cave to wrap his wound
he’s obviously in pain but you can see that he’s trying to not worry you too much
“you actually care about me, darling? i’m touched”
you roll your eyes and never respond to him
for months you both are having his push and pull in your relationship, him being tired of the confusion your actions give him
truth be told, you just didn’t know how to act around him
he was kaeya after all, and you believed he’s been playing around with your feelings, thus your decision of steeling your growing feelings with a different persona
you never liked someone before and you were unsure how to go about it
sure you were used to confession on the daily and you wouldn’t change a thing about your personality since you were helping others and showing genuine care, but when it came to the point where you weren’t on the receiving end...
now that was terrifying
when you are having a drink at angel’s share one night, a woman comes up to you and asks you for a moment of your time
her hands are shaking slightly and you can tell that she is preparing to confess to you
kaeya, at his seat near the door, hears this and it peaks his curiosity so he follows you both after making sure you aren’t aware
he overhears the woman and jealousy bubbles in his chest when he sees your soft smile
when he moves to turn away, he freezes when he hears what you have to say
“i’m sorry, but i cannot return your feelings” you pause
“i am actually interested in someone”
the woman apologizes for wasting your time but you wave at her saying that it is no big deal at all and you appreciate her telling you and her courage to do what she did
when she leaves you laugh to yourself and place your head in your hands, laughing at the irony of your own words
“and the bachelor breaks another heart, how does it feel?”
you glare at kaeya when he comes into view, but what he says hurts you for some reason
he looks so smug, as if he doesn’t do the same
“what’s it to you?”
“nothing, i’m just surprised. the new heartthrob is so kind but rejects all those who grow fond of him. i wonder who it is that stole your heart”
he’s much closer to you know and you were unaware how he got to you so fast
he smirks at you, his hand beside your face to make you look at him with his thumb stroking your cheek
but he must be playing you
you are fuming at the thought and smack his hand away to which he is taken aback by, stepping back to create space
in the midst of it all, you end up spilling everything that you kept in, fed up with his actions that could potentially mean nothing at all
you had nothing to lose anyways
“i like you but i wasn’t sure how to go about it. you might be toying with me for all i know!”
kaeya is surprised and moves to reach for you but you keep backing away from him
“wait!”
you have frustrated tears pooling in your eyes but he now has both hands cupping your face
he repeatedly swears that he has genuine feelings for you and makes sure that you have it in your head that it is all true
once you see the look in his eyes you press your forehead to his chest and sigh, finally realizing how close you are to him that you catch a whiff of his last beverage
“by no means is what i am saying untrue. i enjoy our little banters and how you react”
he will make it obvious to everyone that you both are official after getting together he asks you that night and even places a quick kiss to your lips, walking away from your shocked state
while your previous pursuers are upset, they can’t deny that the captain was the best match for you
you still treat everyone with the same kindness and care as you usually do but now they see your other side, the side that is apparent whenever kaeya is around
it is pretty amusing seeing you composed while sweet-talking a vendor then turn red in the face when kaeya’s arm slips around your waist
“whatcha talking about?”
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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years
Text
Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Seventeen)
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Summary: (Y/N) and Jack follow up on a new lead and make a startling new discovery.
Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader
Word Count: 3k
Warnings/Disclaimers: None
A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!
Chapter Seventeen Kent, England (Previous Chapter)
“Now I remember why I enjoy living in Los Angeles.” (Y/N) grumbled, switching on the windshield wipers and squinting through the down-pouring of rain. “Don’t you just hate the rain sometimes?”
Jack shrugged beside her, his nose buried in a large map as he replied, “Yeah, I guess so. This rain’s pretty tame compared to the stuff we got in the Pacific, though; that was like takin’ a hot shower in the middle of a humid summer. Definitely not something I missed when I shipped back home.”
She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “You’re right, that sounds a whole lot worse. How much farther until the turnoff?”
“It should be coming up in less than a mile-urgh, sorry, kilometer, and it should be somewhere on your left.”
They continued driving through the rain, the comfortable silence between them only permeated by the sounds of the rental car’s radio signal cutting in and out. Their visit to the SFC had been more fruitful than either of them predicted it would; for one, they managed to steal an entire classified file detailing Michael Carter’s undercover mission within Hydra and for another, that file contained not one but two hidden messages. One was in the form of a code while the other had been written in invisible ink; as it turned out, the final code from ‘M. Carter’s’ file that had stumped (Y/N) for so long was actually a cypher for the code on their newly-acquired file. It had taken (Y/N) nearly a week of staring at various number and letter sequences to crack it, only to be left with straightforward coordinates that led directly to Gravesend, Kent.
Unfortunately, the invisible message hadn’t been quite as useful to them; (Y/N) and a slightly-disgusted Jack had used a candle to heat the urine-covered page and reveal a paragraph of code but no matter what she tried, she couldn’t decode it. She and Jack had poured over all her translation journals and brainstormed every possible style of code but it looked like nothing she’d ever seen before; the code didn’t even resemble any of the ones Michael had invented to conceal his intel. Maybe Peggy and I can work on it together once we return to the States, she thought with an inward sigh, frustrated that she couldn’t use the skills she’d spent years honing and perfecting to help further their case.
“You’re kinda quiet over there, Specs. Everything okay?”
Glancing over at the man beside her, (Y/N) nodded and gave him a fleeting smile before turning her attention back to the road, feeling her face beginning to warm at his concerned tone. “Just lost in thought, that’s all.”
Something had shifted between her and Jack after she’d confided in him about Freddie’s death; he’d been more considerate and thoughtful whenever they spoke, a far cry from the smug and self-assured man she’d first met all those months ago, and for nearly a week now they’d slept together in the same bed. They’d often joke that it was because their hotel suite was too drafty but (Y/N) knew that it was really because sharing a bed had resulted in the best sleep either of them had experienced in a long while. When their unspoken arrangement had first begun, she’d warned herself not to get used to it but she’d failed spectacularly in that regard; as much as she wanted to solve the case for Peggy’s sake, she was dreading the day when Jack would inevitably return to his old life as Chief of the New York SSR and she’d be left alone once again.
“You sure you’re okay? You’ve got that little line between your eyebrows that you only get whenever you’re worried ‘bout something.” (Y/N) looked over at him in surprise and he merely shrugged. “It’s another one of your tells, Specs, along with fidgeting your hands.”
“Geez, remind me never to play poker with you.” She chuckled to herself before looking back at the road. “I was just thinking about these coordinates. Why would Michael bother coding the coordinates of a small town like Gravesend?
Her partner shrugged beside her. “I’ve got no idea, but that’s why we’ve come prepared for anything.” He patted the shoulder holster that was hidden underneath his navy-colored raincoat; her own gun was tucked into her clutch, alongside her various lock-picking tools, her tube of 103-Forget Me Not lipstick and the camera-pen Howard had lent her before they’d left Los Angeles.
In no time, they reached the small town of Gravesend and the heavy rain had thankfully lightened to a faint drizzle as she parked the car. There weren’t many people outside but just to be on the safe side, (Y/N) and Jack walked arm-in-arm down the sidewalk, looking every part the happily married couple; their cover allowed them to easily observe and investigate the town without drawing suspicion, and to keep up appearances, they engaged in small talk as they walked but their focus was entirely on their reconnaissance…well, almost entirely.
“I’m serious, Flyboy, I think it’s very sweet that you call your grandmother ‘Gam-Gam!’” (Y/N) insisted, watching as her partner’s blush deepened. The nickname had slipped out when he’d made an offhand comment about one of the houses looking like his grandmother’s, much to his embarrassment and her amusement. “Listen, would it make you feel better if you knew that I have a special nickname for my grandmother? If I tell you what it is, though, you’d better not blabber to anyone else in the office about it…”
Jack raised a challenging brow at her. “Okay, then. What do you call your grandmother?”
“I call her ‘Ram’, because when I was little I couldn’t pronounce certain letters very well.” Her own face flushed as Jack’s azure eyes twinkled with amusement. “There, are you happy now?”
“Yeah, pretty much. I just…” He trailed off, his expression growing serious as he nodded his head towards something in the distance. “I think we just found out why these coordinates are important, Specs.”
Furrowing her brow in confusion, (Y/N) followed his line of sight and nearly gasped aloud at what she saw; at the end of the street stood a sign that read ‘Attwell Airfield’ and an arrow pointing towards the right. “Well, I’ll be damned…” She looked up at Jack and quirked her brow. “How do you feel about a little snooping around?”
“You took the words right outta my mouth.”
When they were sure that no one was looking their way, (Y/N) and Jack made their way down the end of the road and turned right; they walked down the road for several meters before they came across a small path that led off into a line of trees and bushes. Exchanging a look, they followed the path and slowly made their way through the vegetation towards the direction of the airfield.
“Strange that an airfield was never mentioned in any of the files we got on Thomas Attwell,” Jack commented, his eyes scanning their surroundings for any signs of trouble. “You think it’s new?”
“It’s possible. If I were heading the new Secret Empire, I’d certainly want a private means of traveling.” Shrugging, (Y/N) ducked underneath a low-hanging tree branch and glanced over at her partner walking beside her. “It’s also possible that it’s been around for a while now. Thomas Attwell’s brother was an R.A.F. pilot during the war, remember? It could be family-owned, like the orangery back in Los Angeles.”
They continued their trek through the forest of trees, soon reaching the edge of the vegetation; careful to conceal themselves behind the trunk of a wide tree, they examined the airfield; it was on the small side, similar to descriptions she’d heard of the one Howard owned in New Jersey. The airfield’s hangar was only a few dozen meters away from the tree line but from their spot, it was impossible to see if any planes were situated inside of it.
Just as (Y/N) opened her mouth to suggest they get a closer look, two men dressed in tactical gear and holding rifles rounded both corners of the hangar; they passed by each other right in front of the building’s back door and disappeared around each corner. When she looked over at Jack, he was alternating between looking down at his wristwatch and back up at the corners the two guards had appeared from; without glancing away from his task, her partner quietly asked, “How fast can you pick a lock?”
“Between two and five minutes, depending on the type of lock.”
He nodded. “That’ll have to do. When I give the signal, follow my lead.”
The two of them waited with bated breath until finally, the guards appeared around the corners again. They remained still as the two guards disappeared from view, only moving when Jack motioned with his hand to go; they quietly hurried to the hangar’s back door, and (Y/N) knelt down in front of it to determine which tools she’d need while Jack kept watch beside her with his gun at the ready. It was a sturdier lock than the one she’d picked at Fieldman Family Orangery – obviously she’d need to use something better than a hairpin – but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Hurriedly rifling through her crowded purse, she selected the appropriate tools and quickly went about picking the lock, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. After a tense minute or two, the door unlocked with a faint click; since she knew that their time was running out, she jumped to her feet and followed Jack through the doorway, careful to close the door shut behind them.
“Storage room,” Jack lowly stated, his gun at the ready as they crept between rows of plane components and mechanic’s tools; careful not to make any noise, (Y/N) pulled her gun and camera pen out of her clutch before cramming it into her raincoat’s pocket. “This way.”
He led them through the storage room and through an open doorway into a larger, less cluttered space; the cavernous room was nearly empty save for a row of large wooden crates, the sides of which were stamped with the familiar horse-and-vine symbol of the new Secret Empire. Once they made their way over to the crates, Jack holstered his gun and carefully pried the lid off of one of them.
“Looks like we’ve finally found all that stolen gold.” (Y/N) glanced up from the stacked and marked gold bars, meeting her partner’s gaze with a raised brow; he nodded and watched as she used the camera pen to take several pictures, replacing the lid while she tucked the camera pen into her other pocket.
The sound of approaching footsteps forced the two of them to hastily drop behind the crate, and they both held their breaths as a man called out, “Okay, this is the last of it; you guys go grab the others while I let the boss know we’re about done loading the plane.”
“C’mon, let’s move.” Jack quietly spoke as the voices and footsteps faded away, and they both hurried across the large room to a set of metal stairs; since they couldn’t go the same way the voices were coming from, they immediately climbed the stairs and ducked into the room behind the windowed door. When it was clear that they were alone, they lowered their guns and took in their surroundings; the room was on the smaller side, with a desk pushed against one wall laden with various radio equipment and papers, and across from it was a massive window. “All clear; looks like a radio room.”
Already reaching into her pocket for her camera pen, (Y/N) tiptoed to the desk and examined the papers strewn across its surface; there were several telegrams and documents but what instantly drew her attention was a marked map, the edges of which were filled in with sequences of random numbers.
“They’re loading it into a cargo plane,” She looked over to where Jack stood by the windows and met his concerned gaze. “All that gold’s gonna be headed somewhere real soon and I’d bet anything it’s going to Leviathan. We need to find out exactly where that plane’s going, fast.”
Careful not to disturb any of the papers too much, (Y/N) began snapping photographs of them with the camera pen. She was in the middle of taking a photograph of the unusual map when all of a sudden, the sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the hangar and was soon punctuated by the shattering of the radio room’s window, causing her entire body to freeze up in shock.
“Get down!” Jack shouted out and before she could even think to move, he tackled her to the floor and covered her body with his own as more gunshots rang out and glass rained down on them. Raising his head a few inches, her partner’s eyes frantically searched hers and his free hand shot up to shield her face from more shattering glass. “Are you hit?”
“I’m fine, but we need to go!” They both crawled over to the window once he rolled off of her, mindful of the glass while they both clutched their guns in their hands. Their backs were pressed against the wall and gunshots continued to ring out as (Y/N) got an idea. “You go back around to the hangar while I draw their fire!”
Jack didn’t look too happy about it but since there was no time to argue he nodded, keeping low to the ground as he made his way to the radio room’s door. She moved so that she stood beside the broken window and waited until Jack left the room to peek around the window’s edge and opening fire, managing to hit two guards before she was forced to duck for cover.
“Dammit, these guys just don’t quit.” (Y/N) grumbled to herself, darting around to fire off a couple more shots and moving back just in time to avoid the fresh barrage of bullets. She didn’t dare look, but she heard the sounds of a scuffle breaking out in the hangar below and assumed that it was Jack taking care of the guards. He certainly took his time there, she thought as she finally released the breath she’d been holding.
“Well, you’re certainly not who I expected to see.” Whirling around, (Y/N) raised her gun at the smirking dark-haired woman standing in the open doorway; the woman’s brow rose, seemingly unperturbed by the gun pointed directly at her chest. “That’s too bad, I’d hoped that Peggy and I would get a chance to catch up.”
A chill went down (Y/N)’s spine at her words and her fingers tightened around the handle of her gun. “Dottie Underwood. So, it’s true, you’ve begun working for the Secret Empire.”
Dottie smirked. “Begun? Oh, honey, we’ve been friendly for quite a while now, ever since they commissioned me to steal from a New York bank’s safety deposit box.”
“The Arena Club pin? The Secret Empire was behind that?”
The Russian spy rolled her eyes in obvious exasperation. “Yes, that’s what I just said. You SSR types are pretty dense, aren’t you?”
“Not dense, just very thorough.” (Y/N) held her gun higher. “Dorothy Underwood, you’re under arrest.” With a quirk of her brow, Dottie took a step forward. “If you take another step, I won’t hesitate to shoot you.”
“Do you wanna hear a secret, Agent (Y/L/N)? You’re all out of bullets.”
Squeezing the trigger of her gun, (Y/N)’s eyes widened in surprise when it only made a faint click. Dottie took full advantage of her shock, kicking the gun out of her hand and striking her hard in the stomach with her heeled shoe; (Y/N) flew backwards and landed hard on her back, and she scrambled to her feet as the Russian assassin moved in for another attack. (Y/N) blocked her punch and yanked her down before kneeing her in the torso. Recovering quickly, Dottie backhanded her face and grabbed her arm, flipping her over her shoulder and onto her back once again.
The wind was instantly knocked out of (Y/N)’s lungs and while she laid their coughing, Dottie stood over her with a taunting smirk on her face. “You’re too easy; Peggy would’ve at least made it a challenge.”
“We’ve got Thompson, Underwood, time to go!”
(Y/N)’s eyes darted over to the radio from where the familiar voice of Thomas Attwell had emitted, fear clutching at her chest as Dottie sighed in disappointment. “It’s been swell, Agent (Y/L/N), but I have a plane to catch.”
With a swift kick to (Y/N)’s side, the Russian assassin snatched up the papers on the desk and quickly fled the room; (Y/N) struggled to get to her feet and once she finally managed it, she clutched her stomach and limped over to the radio room’s broken window. There was a large cargo plane at the opposite end of the hangar, and she watched as Dottie strode up its extended ramp beside Attwell, who was carrying an unconscious Jack Thompson over his shoulder.
“No!”
Ignoring the pain of her injuries, (Y/N) hurried out of the radio room and down the metal stairs, stopping for a brief moment to grab one of the dead guard’s rifles before staggering into the hangar. The plane’s ramp had closed and it was already taxing down the runway; she aimed the rifle at one of the plane’s wheels and fired, cursing when the shot missed. In desperation, (Y/N) ran through the hangar as fast as she could but she was too late, for the plane had already taken off by the time she reached the hangar’s opening.
“Jack…Jack…” (Y/N) gasped out, her vision blurring with tears as she watched the plane disappear into the clouds; she felt something brush her foot and when she looked down, she recognized it as Jack’s fedora. Reaching down, she gently picked it up and after staring at it for several moments, she finally allowed herself to cry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: That ending though...wow. I’m sorry for the cliffhanger but I had to! Thank you guys so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter.
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW
Chapter Eighteen
“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist
Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent​ @momc95​ @brooke0297​ @kinda-c0nfused​ @outoftheregular  @mads-weasley​
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lingering-42-long · 1 year
Text
I’ll be home for Christmas
John ‘Soap’ Mactavish x reader
Warnings: sfw, a little angst, maybe make a pt 2, might be ooc, crazy Scottish Gaelic thrown in there, misspellings are dialect. 
My first SOAP opera. Lol puns aside I was in a Christmas mood, listening to Christmas music, at night, and feeling a little moody. I wanted to give this “Christmas” themed short a try. Let me know if I should do a Pt 2 on this. ALSO Gaelic in there, I tried to be as accurate as I could don’t kill me plz 😓.
John winced when he got the call from headquarters saying he would need to leave for duty on Tuesday, witch meant be on a flight to the shitty hell-hole of a place tomorrow. He hated being called at last moment. Being left out of the loop irked him to no end.
Soap looked over at the clock and noticed that his girlfriend would be home soon. She worked at a local pub by night in Sterling and her shift was nearing the end. Just as he was thinking about her his phone buzzed with a text. It was from (y/n). ‘Hey Johnny, I’ll be home in a bit on my way.’
John texted back ‘ok love. See you here.:)’ He noticed she called him Johnny not hunny or babe. She must be tired. He thought to himself as he got up to finish dinner. He hated having to leave her behind in such short notice.
The Cock-a-Leekie soup was almost finished when John heard keys outside jingle and the lock opening. (Y/n) came in on this chilly night.
“Brrrr. It’s cold out there” she shivered and hung her jacket on the peg by the door and was in the process of taking her wet shoes and socks off, when two arms snaked around her waist. “Aye mo leannan (yes my sweetheart). You’re cold aren’t ya?�� His thick Scottish accent rolled off his tongue as he kissed her neck. A giggle could be heard from her lips “Already trying to flirt with me this late? “Lass if I was try’n to flirt with ya, I would’ve put more effort into it.” He gave a little nibble to her earlobe. (Y/n) smiled as she slipped on a pair of house slippers. “Something smells amazing. Are you making what I think your making?”
“Aye ghràdh (love).” Soap smiled as he dished out two plates.
“You really didn’t have to do that. It’s so late…” It was true. It was around 1:45am, but John didn’t matter. He knew he did not have much time with his Beloved. “No I don’t mind,” he smiled then his face dropped, “Also I got to tell you something.”
A frown formed on (y/n)’s face. “Let’s talk about it after dinner, ok?” John gave a quick nod and touched her cheek gently “tha gaol agam ort (I love you).”
A light blush formed over (y/n)’s face “I love you too”
Dinner was amazing and the two of them talked about (y/n)’s job and who was at the pub that night. John gave a slight snort when she was telling him about the idiot who kept flirting with her. “Did ye tell ‘em yur with meh?”
“Of course I did but you know how men are, he saw that as a challenge”
“Next time I’ll show him a real challenge” he huffed.
“No need. I took care of it quick.” She chuckled. “I got Bruce to start waiting on him.” The man Bruce, she was referring too, was a big hulking of a man and could scare anyone into submission if it came to one of his colleagues getting uneasy with a drunken idiot.
“Well at least he has been delt with.” John nodded. He was very happy that she could stand up in a fight. That’s one of the many things he loved about her.
“So…. What’s this bad news you have to dump on me?” (Y/n) asked already figuring it out but waiting for the confirmation.
“Lass I got called in for a mission… I know it’s bad timing.” So close to Christmas. It was both there favorite time of the year. It was going to be tough on them.
“Yeah really bad timing.” She bit her bottom lip trying not to let her tears fall. “I had made plans and everything too…oh well”
“Hey now mo aingeal milis (my sweet angel). Yer can still do those things, and the plan is to be home for Christmas… if all goes to plan tha’ is.” A simple touch to the shoulder almost sent (y/n) crying. She was a tough-ie but things that were very important to her still got to her. “I know…I just worry if you will be ok…if you will make it…”
“Aye Bonnie I promise ye I will com back home in one piece yeah?”
“Alive?” She asked
“Alive and well.” He chuckled. “Now go get ready fer bed. I’ll clean up and be there in a bit.”
She shook her head “I want to help…”
“Your tired. You’ve been working all night. Let me do this fer ya.”
“Fine.” (Y/n) trudged upstairs to their room and washroom were she took off her makeup and jewelry. She had worn the necklace and matching earrings that John had given her last year as an anniversary gift on Valentine’s Day.
She looked at herself in the mirror, tears still threatening to spill, a long night and now this? Pull yourself together girl. (Y/n) told herself but to no avail. When she made it to the bedroom to get changed for the evening, the thought of her boyfriend leaving her made the waterworks start as she burst out crying into her pillow, sobbing away. Perfect timing for Soap to walk in, catching sight of his overtired, crying girlfriend.
“Hey hey hey! What’s this Love?” Gently kneeling beside her side of the bed and placing a hand on her back.
“I’m sorry I must be tired, but the thought of you leaving for the holidays…” (Y/n)’s voice broke again as she tried to regain her composure.
“No don’t apologize, ghràdh (love). I wished I could have told you sooner.” He kissed her head gently. “I know this will be h’rd on both of us but we can work this out, yeah?” John got up and walked to his dresser to get on a pair of pants. He liked to sleep shirtless.
As soon as Soap opened the covers to get in, his girlfriend clung onto him. “Aye lass I got ye.” He chuckled and stroked her head. “I’ll wake ye up when I leave ok?” No reply just a nod into his chest. Softly, as if she would shatter in his arms, he hummed an old song and gently rubbed her back. This made (Y/n) break down and cry again. “I got ye let it out. Shhhhhh.” John murmured, now his own eyes betraying him as they stung with salty water threatening to hit his pillow and his girlfriend. He held (y/n) tightly, letting her cry to sleep, knowing that would be the best for her. Soon he was following in that pattern.
It was 6:30am when John began walking to the door with his sleepy girlfriend in tow, holding his arm. Soap opened the door, with his duffel bags in hand gave his (y/n) a kiss. “I’ll be back in a few weeks, you’ll see”
(y/n) nodded sadly. “Be safe out here ok? Kick there asses.”
He gave a small smile “I always do.”
John turned around to head for his car don’t turn back, dont fucking turn back. But he did and saw (y/n) standing there “fuck” he muttered a small choke. He dropped his bags and swiftly dashed back to her.
“Oh lass I am going to miss ye so so so much!” He was shaking. Trying to hold it in, trying to be the big tough Sargent he needed to be.
“It’s ok. You told me last night we got this, it’s not like we haven’t been in this same boat before. If we did it 100 times before we can do it one more time. I’ll be waiting here for you when you get back ok?” A smile laced with sadness stretched over (y/n)’s face.
He pulled himself up and nodded. She was right. With a final lasting kiss he went back to grab his bags once more and this time made it to the car without look back. Setting his stuff in the back seat, he then got into the front, starting the engine, and slowly driving out from the driveway. He could see her silhouette in the dim light coming from the living room as she stood outside watching him. Soap drove down the road towards the airport with one thought on his mind.
When I get back love, I’m going to ask you a question… I hope you say yes.
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nanasparadise · 3 years
Note
Please~ yandere la squadra with a darling that heals them after a battle? Angel 👼 anon but Christmas inspired~
Hi anon! I hope you had a beautiful Christmas! <3 I know I’m super late (T-T), but I hope you still enjoy the headcannons! Where I live, it’s still freezing cold, so the Christmas spirit still lingers a bit in the air.
!!!!! TW: mentions of blood and wounds, implied stalking, implied NSFW, toxic relationship, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY !!!!!
I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.
Yan! La Squadra x gender-neutral Stand user reader who heals them during a battle (Christmas edition)
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Yan! Risotto
Risotto hates to go to you for help: he likes to appear strong in front of you.
But the battle has been tough and his wounds are quite deep.
You rush immediately to the hitman, inspecting the severity of the wounds.
With your Stand, you’re able to heal him pretty fast and effectively.
Risotto keeps staring at you throughout the whole healing process, red eyes boring intensely into yours.
It does make you quite uncomfortable.
But you push that thought away and instead sigh: why did Risotto have to get into trouble on Christmas?
After you’ve patched him up, you try to look out for the other hitmen in case they need your help as well.
But the silver-haired man puts his calloused hands on your wrists under a tight grip and keeps fixating you.
You are surprised by his action, but he simply states that he needs you in this moment and that you shouldn’t worry about the others.
For Risotto, this admittance of weakness bothers the Italian. But he’d rather like you only for himself. The capo can’t help the feeling of jealousy and possessiveness rising up in him like bile whenever he sees you with the other team members – or anyone that isn’t him, for a fact.
You want to escape his grasp, but something in his gaze – something dangerous that you shouldn’t unleash – makes you remain by his side.
The capo bores again his intense eyes into yours. You feel as though he pierces right through your soul. For you, the quiet feels unbearable. On the other hand, for Risotto, this moment of calmness feels like bliss, like the perfect Christmas present, as he’s got everything he needs right next to him now.
“Good God, Risotto!” “It’s fine, it’s not as bad as it seems.”
“Risotto, could you please let me go? I need to look after the others.” “They’re fine. I need you more by my side.”
Yan! Illuso
Illuso comes back with blood covering his clothes. He weakly breaks down on the nearest chair, too exhausted from the battle and the wounds.
You immediately notice the deep cut on his torso. Rapidly, you hurry to his side.
Illuso’s face is adorned with his typical smug smile as you approach him, despite his injury and severe blood loss.
Swiftly, his wounds are healed with your Stand. During the process, the hitman goes on confidently about how he beat the enemy to a bloody pulp. Though you quickly notice his boasting is just to distract himself from the pain.
After you’ve helped him with his injuries, you’re about to see the other hitmen, but Illuso quickly stops you.
The Italian shoots you again one of his self-assured grins and asks you to come sit next to him. With a sigh, you do as he told you.
Illuso mentions how you shouldn’t waste your time with the other members of the team, especially not on Christmas. After all, he could give you a much better time and already has a gift for you…
After all, Illuso knows exactly what you want for presents. He took his time observing you through your mirror to find out everything he needs to know about you.
You feel highly uncomfortable by his comment. So you decide to stand up and leave.
But before you could truly escape the situation, Illuso takes your arm with an iron grip. He discreetly nods at the mirror in the room.
You understand immediately the underlying threat. Not wanting to be dragged into the mirror world, you simply swallow the lump in your throat and sit down again. Internally, you curse your Stand, knowing that it is practically useless in a fight…
Illuso smiles at your compliance, a dark spark glimmering in his red eyes.
The brunette babbles about how he’s gonna make this Christmas perfect for you.
“Of course he was no match for Man in the Mirror. You should have seen how I disfigured his face.” “Sure, Illuso…”
“Why don’t you stay a bit? These men don’t deserve your attention. I can make this Christmas so much better for you, tesoro.”
Yan! Formaggio
Unlike the other members of the team, Formaggio comes with a crooked grin and cracking jokes when he perceives your form. Even though his bloody and bullet-ridden body was nothing to make fun of, you thought.
The Italian groans from time to time when you heal him,  but he secretly also relishes the fact that you touch him so freely.
He keeps on talking about how he can’t wait for the holidays to be over so that the football season can start again. You simply roll your eyes and smile mindlessly at his comment.
Though the young man must admit that he likes the thought of you curled up in your arms while watching a cheesy holiday film.
You nervously chuckle, hoping this was just another one of his jokes.
But the green eyes that stare intensely back at you do make it hard to believe so.
You utter an apology, saying you should see the other hitmen, but your movement is halted by Formaggio’s hand on your upper arm.
The Italian flashes you another grin, though it appears much more sinister this time.
He suggest to stay, having already found the perfect film to watch for you two. You are well aware of the fact that it’s a threat, recognising the menacing edge in his voice.
You aren’t sure how to react: should you risk it and leave or should you just stay?
In the end, much to Formaggio’s satisfaction, you decide to remain with him. After all, this couldn’t be so bad. You two are friends, this doesn’t lead to something more, right?
Meanwhile, the hitman already plans the next intimate moments between you, not taking in account whether you want this or not.
“Well, look at that Y/N, I do give my name much honour with these holes in my body!” “Please Formaggio, don’t joke about that! You could have died.”
“C’mon babe, it’s just a nice evening between us! It’s Christmas, share the spirit, be kind and stay with me.”
Yan! Prosciutto
If it wasn’t for the trail of blood, you wouldn’t have noticed that Prosciutto is injured.
As usual, the blond hides his pain by putting on a perfect stoic face.
You heal him with your Stand, Prosciutto being silent during the treatment. You are shocked to see that his wounds are so deep.
After the process, you ask him about the battle. The assassin quickly gives you all the important information about the enemy, though he reassures you that they are dead now.
Prosciutto has a hard time keeping his professional façade up around you: he can’t help but feel touched by your sincere worry.
Wanting to share the information with the rest of La Squadra, you intend to leave the room. Though Prosciutto’s voice cutting through the air, that leaves no room for disobedience, stops you from doing so.
The Italian confidently asks you out for dinner, wanting to indulge you with his favourite Christmas recipe.
You raise an eyebrow at that invitation, shooting a questioning look at your colleague.
Prosciutto is fully aware of his out of character action, but you made him react untypically more often then you knew: when he kept thinking about you instead of concentrating on his mission, when he kept photos of you in his room, when he imagined your lips on his…
You politely decline his kind offer, pretending you don’t want to bother him. But it’s more the fact that your gut feeling says that something is wrong about the hitman’s sombre gaze.
Prosciutto clicks his tongue at your reaction. He simply takes ungently your hand and drags you out of the room.
You try as best to fight against him, but your resistance turns out to be futile.
The blond is visibly annoyed by your fighting. With The Grateful Dead, he ages your soft hand, leaving it all wrinkled.
You stare at your hand in distraught. You’re smart enough to see the threat behind his action. So you let him drag you out, too scared to act up again.
“Prosciutto, are you alright? You never say when you’re hurt.” “Showing weakness would put a bad example, now wouldn’t it?”
“Why must you always be so stubborn? I just want to take you out for dinner, it’s not too much asked for.”
Yan! Pesci
Pesci groans when he enters the room. He hates to see you worried because of him, but the battle left him in an excruciating pain.
You patch the hitman up as fast as you can, using your Stand efficiently.
During the healing process, the Italian’s dark eyes glisten with something you recognise as affection. You feel uncomfortable under his stare and don’t know how to react. You simply shove it off as him being an emotional friend and man in general.
Though his following words make it clear that he thinks of you more than just a colleague or friend.
Pesci gathers up all his courage. Shyly, he asks you if you would like to spend the remainder of the evening by his side. You could maybe bake some Christmas biscuits, if you like!
Immediately, pity blooms in your chest. You don’t want to hurt his feelings, knowing that he already suffers enough under the sneers of your teammates.
Still, you decline his offer. After all, you don’t want to falsely lead him on… To make it alright, you offer him to do something together with the team instead.
Already being emotional, Pesci’s eyes start to water. He insists spending time with you alone, nearly begging you.
The Italian goes on then about how he can never spend time with you alone… He just wants to participate for once and not being able to watch you doing activities with other people.
Majorly distressed by what he’s just told you, you don’t hesitate a second to leave the room, all sympathy for him gone.
The assassin doesn’t follow you, lucky for you.
Again, Pesci is all by himself, without your presence. It’s going to be a lonely Christmas for him.
“Thank you so much for healing me, Y/N! You’re really like an angel.” “Oh stop it, you’re exaggerating…”
“Please, I’m begging you to stay! It’s going to be fun, I promise! I just want you all for myself, just for once.”
Yan! Melone
It’s untypical for Melone to actively engage in a battle. So when he comes back from the mission, being wounded severely, you are more than surprised.
Even though you tend to avoid the rather lecherous man for his inappropriate comments towards you, you don’t hesitate to heal him. After all, he’s still your teammate.
Seeing you so willingly tending his injuries seems like an open invitation for the assassin to continue his usual dirty talk with you (which of course it isn’t).
He bathes into your warm touch on his cool, naked skin, caused by the cold temperature outside.
You wrinkle your nose at his rather disgusting remarks, threatening him to just let him bleed out the next time, to which the Italian only laughs.
After you’ve fully healed him, you intend to immediately rush out of the room, desperate to create some space between you and Melone.
Your escape appears to be fruitless though as a gloved hand grips tightly on your upper arm. The hitman has surprisingly lots of strength for his slim build.
With eyes of a predator, Melone lets his gaze wander over your body, lust and darkness swirling in his blue eyes.
You are unaware of how much he has longed for a moment with you. He’s grown tired of you avoiding him. You’re his perfect match: the compatible birth charts, the messages from the tarot cards, all of it let to you being his. Or so it should be, in his mind.
You are repulsed by him and do your best to get off from his grasp on you.
Melone doesn’t mind your resistance, perceiving it only as an encouragement for his advances.
He rambles about how he’s got some fun Christmas games prepared for you. Though you definitely don’t want anything about the nature of these supposed games…
With one final push, you finally manage to get out of his hold, a scowl adorning your face. Throwing a rude comment at him, you eventually leave Melone and his creepy tendencies.
The Italian watches you storming off, a smirk on his face. He doesn’t worry about this incidence. He will get you afterwards, he’s made sure off it.
“You should touch me more often like that, amore.” “You’re disgusting Melone, next time I’ll leave you out to die.”
“I’ve got some special games for you prepared. And if you behave well, I make sure to give you a gift.” You get sick to your stomach at his words.
Yan! Ghiaccio
Ghiaccio seethes with anger as he stumbles through the door. Why did he have to get attacked this bad by the enemy? Though he’s more than proud to have annihilated them.
As you see the man clutching his wounded side enter, you make your way to him to heal him, earning a scornful look by the prideful Italian.
What you don’t know is that his ego is only that big because he wants, like Risotto, appear strong in front of you.
During the healing process, a string of insults escape the assassin’s mouth. You roll your eyes at the dramatic behaviour.
Ghiaccio has a hard time to express his affection for you. At first, he has been annoyed by you infiltrating his mind, but now he has grown tender to it. He wishes he could be more soft with you, but having his feelings under control has never been his strong suit. Though he wants to try it today, because what day could be better than Christmas?
You grow uncomfortable by the hitman’s intense gaze. Tentatively, you ask him if everything’s alright.
Ghiaccio snaps out of his thoughts. Impulsively, he just blurts out if you wanna spend Christmas with him.
He keeps on going, saying that he usually hates the cheesiness that comes with the holiday, but he would like to make it a nice experience for you, with him by your side…
You interrupt his rambling by saying that you already spend the holidays with your family off-base.
Hearing your answer, the assassin’s hot anger returns. He’s making an effort for you, could you not see that? Why would you decline his offer then?
You are about to leave him as suddenly ice hits your feet and legs and you are frozen to the floor, giving you no choice as to remain in the room.
Ghiaccio didn’t mean to use White Album on you, but he can’t help it if you act so stubborn and ungrateful. Now you would spend Christmas with him for sure.
“This little son of a-“ “Ghiaccio please, calm down.”
“Spend Christmas with me. I know, I hate this corny shit, but with you, it will be more bearable.”
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bluebellwriting · 3 years
Text
Love Me Tender part 1
An Alastor x Chubby!Reader in which you are Angel Dust’s older sister
You were in the middle of baking a cake when your little brother and the two girls dead-set on helping him walked into the hotel. It was supposed to be a celebratory-post-interview cake/congratulations-on-Angel-being-clean-for-two-days cake, but after you heard the interview from the little radio you had set up in the kitchen, it was now a condolences cake. Also Angel was no longer receiving any cake, which would probably be the only thing to motivate him to stay clean for a few days. 
You love your little brother with all your heart, as you do with all of your siblings, but you had to all but force him to come to this hotel because you were sick of watching him kill himself for shits and giggles... well, not “kill” himself, but you get it. And he just wasn’t taking this seriously. It’s not like you wanted him redeemed, even if you did believe in it. The best part about being in Hell was that you were finally reunited with your siblings and dad. But if these girls could at least get him to stop putting himself in precarious situations and therefore cause you a little less grief, you would be eternally grateful. So you stayed at the hotel with him, just to keep him in check and also to take break from the drama that was Hell’s respective mafias. Charlie had also begged you to stay because you were an excellent cook and baker from years of making meals for your hopeless siblings.
You poke your head out of the kitchen door to see Charlie sulking and Vaggie scolding your brother. Sighing, you return to your cake, deciding to have a little chat with Angel afterwards. You couldn’t handle any arguing right now. You had just had a rather annoying conversation with your other brother regarding Angel’s progress, how you should give up on him and just come back to work with him and your dad:
“He’s a lost cause, (Y/N),” Arackniss had groaned.
“He’s our baby brother, you prick. Besides, I’m getting a little sick of mob-business. I need a break.”
“Dad’s not gonna like that. You’re his favorite.”
“Just tell dad I say hi and that I’ll see him for family dinner.” You slammed the phone down.
So yeah, you really just wanted to shove your face in the bitter dark chocolate confection as soon as possible. Now that they were all home and somewhat safe, you took this moment to turn the volume up on your radio, letting some Ella Fitzgerald and Doris Day drown out the arguments. You also apparently drowned out the arrival of a red-clad overlord. 
“So tell me, what do you have here in way of a staff?” Alastor scans the lobby of the hotel, quite unimpressed with the choice in decor and the dust. Honestly, there was dust everywhere, it was disgusting.
“Well...” Charlie motions towards the glowering moth demon and he shakes his head. How did the young princess expect to get this place off the ground with a less than welcoming manager and a debauched patron? Speaking of...
Alastor makes his way over to the lounging spider and gives him a curious smile. 
“And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”
“I can suck your dick.” Oh dear Lord, who raised this creature? It takes everything within Alastor not to cringe and to keep his smile up.
“Ha! No.” Angel shrugs then points a finger towards the closed kitchen door.
“There’s also my sister.” Alastor’s ears perk up and he strolls over to the door. As he nears, his sensitive ears pick up the sound of Ella Fistgerald, the distinct sound of radio static, and another feminine voice singing quietly along. Alastor’s grin widens as he slowly opens the door so as not to make a sound. Revealing you, an incredibly small and ample young lady making frosting. He leans against the doorframe, watching your fluffy (h/c) hair bounce around and your ample hips swaying to the melody of “Dream A Little Dream of Me,” a song from before his time but not too much later. He takes a whiff and smells the familiar bitterness of dark chocolate, the only sweet thing he can remotely bear. Well, this establishment is just full of surprises, isn’t it?
He’s not quite sure how much time passes, in all honesty he’s perfectly content watching you shimmy your way around the kitchen, which is strange for him. He can count on one hand the number of people he enjoys spending more than ten minutes with. Well, maybe he’ll just have to add you to the list, if your taste in music is anything to go by at least.
“Hey sis! Ya got a secret admirer!” The shrill voice of Angel rings in his ears and causes you to whip around and brace yourself against the counter. You wrap both sets of arms around yourself like a shield and frown at him briefly. Alastor freezes at the hard glare, even if it’s only on your face for an instant before it softens to a confused stare. 
You recognized the Radio Demon immediately because, unlike your brother you actually kept up with politics. You made it your business to know who was worth knowing and who was dangerous enough to avoid, and thankfully up until this point you were able to avoid his path of carnage. But the man before you isn’t smiling wickedly like you had always imagined. There isn’t blood in his teeth nor is he invading your space with the intention to strike. No, this man is just standing idly in the doorway with a wide, friendly smile. And he’s tall, like really tall. And way too thin. Goodness, when was the last time he ate?
“Um... hello,” you say quietly, still keeping your arms around you, a habit when you’re around strange men. He lurches forward and you flinch, not just because you’re scared of him specifically (you are a bit though), but because you have a... complicated history with men rushing you. 
He leans down slightly but makes sure to tower over you still, and grabs one of your hands before you even know what’s going on.
“Alastor, darling. A pleasure.” His voice is oozing static and glee, but he’s not as loud as you thought he would be. He leans down and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman, something you haven’t experienced since you were a young girl.
“And who might you be, darling?” You catch your brother passing by the doorway, snickering at you and you realize that he still hasn’t released your hand. You tug it away from him and give him a polite but small smile.
“(Y/N). Very nice to meet you, sir.”
“Sir! Why I haven’t been called that since, well, since the last time I had a wretched soul cowering before me!” He laughs hysterically and you shiver at the thought. 
The smell of cooked chocolate invades your nostrils, and you briefly wonder if saving your cake is worth turning your back to this man. He seems to decide for you.
“Why that smells delicious, dearie.” He strolls over to the oven in only two steps and plucks your cakes out of the oven with a bare hand. You gawk at him, because he seems completely unbothered by the scorching metal in his hands. He crosses the kitchen back to you and places the pans down on the counter, flashing you a proud smile like he’s showing off.
“Can’t say I’m a huge fan of sweets, though. But this smells so good, I’ll just have to try.” He goes to snag some of the cake from a pan and your older-sister instincts take over before you can even stop yourself. You smack his hand. You smack the Radio Demon’s hand. His neck snaps towards you at a painful angle at an inhuman speed. His eyes turn into radio dials and his smile is just vicious. But you don’t seem to care in this moment and just shoot him a stern glare.
“You can’t have any yet. It’s hot and I still need to frost it. You can have some when it’s ready with everyone else,” you tell him simply and bump his rigid body to the side with your hip to begin frosting.
Alastor is stunned. Because he hates being touched when he doesn’t expect it or initiate it. Because years of being an overlord means that you have to keep your guard up for any sort of attack but he doesn’t seem to mind when it comes from you. Because you weren’t actually attacking him you were just... protecting your cake? Because you didn’t seem to really care who he was in that moment and he kind of liked that, that you weren’t afraid to defend what was yours, even if it was a cake. Because you weren’t just a shy little spider anymore. You were spunky.
He wills his eyes to return to normal and smirks at you. He reaches on long arm over your shoulder and attempts to steal some frosting but one of your arms smacks his hand away again. He continues, his attempted assault on your cake and each time one of your arms smacks him away while the others focus on frosting the cake expertly. You’re quite annoyed by his mocking. Alastor is the most entertained he’s been in years. He loves the way your eyebrows crease together as you concentrate on piping, and the wrinkling of your nose when he gets too close to ruining said piping. 
When you’re finally done you whip around and glare at him.
“Are you done?” you ask. He just gives you an innocent smile in return and shrugs his shoulders. You roll your eyes and push past him to carry the cake out into the lobby for everyone to enjoy. He stays in the kitchen a moment longer, watching you march away and taking in the tingling felt on the spot where your small form brushed against him. He’s shocked, completely and utterly shocked at how much he wants to hold on to that tingling feeling. 
The radio continues to play as the song finishes
Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Alastor decided then and there that he was going to make it his mission to get you more comfortable around him, if it meant he’d get to see more of the spirited young lady with excellent music taste. 
Dream a little dream of me
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