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delimeful · 1 year

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in sickness and in health (5)

warnings: violence, murder attempt, non-graphic injury, PTSD, panic

Virgil yawned, rubbing tiredly at his eyes for the fourth time that hour.

It was late enough that even the twins had grown bored with trying to interpret the garbled readings from their strange machines, now lying sprawled across the carpet and bickering quietly over what to watch next.

Usually, the adrenaline of being out in the open would have kept him awake and alert no matter how late it was, especially when his erratic sleeping schedule was factored in, but tonight apparently just wasn’t his night. For some reason, he was drooping with exhaustion after barely a couple of hours. His eyelids felt heavy and sticky, and he struggled to pry them back open after each blink.

At this rate, he’d fall asleep before the humans did, and he wasn’t dumb enough to believe that he’d make it out unscathed if any one of them noticed the limp body of a miniature person passed out on the counter.

That settled it. He was going home, his paranoia about mysterious spy gadgets be damned.

He lifted his head from where he’d been pressing his forehead blearily against the cardboard of the shoebox in front of him, and felt the abrupt pressure of cool metal along the side of his neck.

“Well, well, well,” a low, borrower-sized voice murmured from close behind him. “It looks like this house wasn’t as unoccupied as we thought.”

Suddenly, Virgil felt very, very awake.

He tried to slowly turn his head, get a look at his assailant, but the metal– thin diameter, no edge, probably a sharpened needle or pin– pressed down firmer in a silent threat.

“Now, now, we certainly don’t want any trouble. So long as you cooperate, there’s no reason for anyone to get hurt.” The voice hardened slightly. “Disarm yourself, slowly.”

Virgil’s fists clenched, but at this distance, all the other borrower would have to do was pull back slightly and stab, and he’d be done for.

He carefully lifted his hands to the strap across his chest, lifting it over his head and setting his bag down beside him with care. His belt followed suit, both of his weapons still sheathed in it.

With each movement, his dread grew. Raiding a house like this, threatening other occupants right off the bat, that condescending, superior tone– it wasn’t typical borrower behavior. Not at all.

“Very good,” the voice crooned, “now let’s continue our chat back in the walls, shall we? It will take us a while to get familiar with the layout, but I’m sure you know the way.”

The pressure against his neck lightened slightly, and Virgil got to his feet and allowed himself to be maneuvered so that he was facing towards the kitchen, and by extension, the entrance he’d built there behind the toaster.

His thoughts were racing nearly as fast as his heart, his steps slightly unsteady as he unwillingly led the way across the countertops. Clearly, they didn’t want the confrontation happening out here, where a human could notice any lingering evidence of a fight. Raising suspicions was the last thing any borrower wanted to do, let alone a potential Monoxide member.

Obviously, then, he couldn’t let himself be shuffled into the walls, where his captor could spill his blood as they pleased without worry.

Virgil took a too-large step, the resulting stagger only half-faked, and the moment the needle wavered away for a moment to prevent accidentally stabbing him, he ducked and twisted under it, scurrying backwards to put space between him and his attacker while also getting a good look at them.

They were surprisingly short, with heavy burn scarring along one side of their face, and dressed in a style of clothing that seemed to mimic human formal wear. The sleeves of their white shirt were rolled up, and Virgil couldn’t help the way his eyes immediately flitted to the back of their forearms.

Nothing. One arm also had those same burn scars, but there wasn’t a trace of tattoo ink in sight.

He started to inhale a little deeper, the beginnings of a sigh of relief– and then nearly choked on that breath the moment his gaze caught on the other borrower’s neck.

The mark was simpler, more stylized than his own, but the two circles linked by a thick straight line were unmistakable. A visual representation of carbon monoxide, rumored to be ripped directly from a human textbook by the group’s founder, along with the real meaning behind the name: a silent, invisible killer.

“Oh?” The borrower’s lips curled into an unsurprised smirk. “See something you recognize?”

Virgil mentally cursed himself for staring so blatantly. He’d spent most of his childhood with his parents or their extended family, had associated that symbol with the back of the forearm, where he himself saw it every time he rolled his sleeves up. Like an idiot, he’d forgotten that the location of the mark varied, depending on which colony or bloodline one was from.

He’d always thought that if anyone was going to track down and punish a deserter like him, it’d be someone who’d already known him. His family, or someone from the colony they hailed from.

His mistake for assuming.

“What do you want from me?” he asked, just barely curbing the outright hatred in his tone. “You’re not welcome here.”

The other borrower jerked, just the slightest amount, their calculating eyes narrowing.

“Oh? Are you going to throw us out?” A considering pause. “Or perhaps there’s another Monoxide borrower here, and the victims of this home are already spoken for? After all, the only claim our organization respects is that of a fellow member.”

There was something testing in the way their gaze swept over both the humans and Virgil on the word ‘victims’, a double-edged meaningfulness that Virgil couldn’t quite parse.

He couldn’t waste any time trying to puzzle it out. His mind had already latched onto a new opportunity, one that the stranger had unwittingly dropped right into his lap.

“There are no other borrowers here,” he said firmly, straightening his shoulders and ignoring the nervous sweat prickling along his sides. “But this house is claimed nonetheless.”

He shoved his sleeve up in one harsh motion, displaying the mark that he swore he’d never affiliate himself with again.

To keep human-killers out of Patton’s home, he’d do a lot worse.

—

Janus barely managed to keep the hateful triumph off his face, staring down at the symbol of the cult that had made his life a living hell for so long.

For a moment there, faced with the wide, panicked eyes of a stranger, he’d doubted his judgment. He’d worried that this wasn’t a cruel and sadistic killer, but an unwilling accomplice pressed into service, perhaps even the one who’d tried to save Patton.

He couldn’t afford to drop the act, couldn’t let a misplaced sense of empathy drag his guard down when it was him and Logan both at risk.

Instead, he set up a trap, and the cultist fell for it without hesitation.

They’d offered up the proof that would seal their fate with laughably misplaced confidence, their chin raising up, shifting to that familiar arrogant posture that Monoxiders wore like a second skin.

Janus’s hand twitched with the urge to stab forward, again and again until there wasn’t even a ghost of a chance that the assassin before him could hurt anyone ever again.

Patience, patience. He’d gotten this far with relative ease, there was no point in taking any needless risks by engaging in direct combat. Not when backstabbing would serve him much better.

“What a surprise!” he exclaimed, raising his eyebrows dramatically. “I do apologize for my hastiness, I would never have threatened you if I’d known.”

The cultist grunted and shoved their sleeve down roughly, face still set in a stony mask. “Easy mistake. Now, I have a schedule to keep, so–,”

“Oh, come now,” Janus cut in, gesturing airily with the needle, “don’t be so hasty! You simply must show me what you’re using on your human, it’s been ages since I’ve run into a different branch and I’m exceedingly curious about how our poisons vary. You do have a garden, don’t you?”

A strange stiffness ran through the cultist for a moment, before they nodded jerkily. “Naturally. And it’s humans. All of them are under claim.”

The cold rush that swept through him was equal parts terror and rage. One night, and the serial murderer already had designs on the twins. Janus didn’t want to imagine what could have happened if he and Logan hadn’t put the pieces together in time.

“How… ambitious!” Janus smiled sharply to conceal the way he was forcing every word through clenched teeth. “I’m even more intrigued to see what you have in store for them. By all means, lead the way!”

He gestured to the entrance he’d left open, just barely visible from this angle, and the cultist’s face pinched for a moment before settling back into a frown.

“Sure. After I go grab my stuff.”

They began retracing their path across the countertop, and Janus felt his composure begin to fracture. He wasn’t willing to allow them to reclaim their weaponry, even if it meant stabbing them out in the open. A few blood stains here and there weren't out of place in a house Remus was in, anyways.

He kept his steps light and casual as he approached the cultist from behind, lining his strike up, hefting the needle back, and–

The moment he jabbed forward, the cultist threw themself to the side, twisting around quicker than Janus could follow and lunging with teeth bared.

The tackle took them both down, Janus’s head smacking against the marble counter hard enough that sharp pin pricks of white blinked in and out of his vision.

“I knew it,” the cultist snarled, taking advantage of the close quarters to grab Janus’s wrists and pin them down. The needle clattered free of his grip against his will, and Janus felt a rising surge of mindless panic threaten to overwhelm him entirely. "How many others? How did you find me?”

“As if it was hard. I saw the signs, the trail of evidence you left behind,” Janus snapped with a glare, ignoring the pain radiating through his skull and the way his eyesight blurred more with every blink. “You cultists all think you’re so clever, but your tricks are always the same.”

“What–?” their grip loosened slightly, and Janus managed to yank a hand free and swing it sloppily at the cultist’s face. Miraculously, the punch landed.

The cultist recoiled with a choked-off yelp, giving him just enough space to draw his legs up and kick viciously, driving them further back with surprising effectiveness.

“Wait, stop–,” they started, swerving away from Janus’s next strike. “What did you just–?”

“I’ll kill you,” Janus hissed, trying to find the silver glint of his needle as he scrambled unsteadily to his feet. “Whatever sick, twisted game you had in store for the humans, it ends now.”

His vision had to be getting worse; the cultist almost looked as though they were holding their hands up defensively, trying to back away.

“Hold on, so you– you’re not actually a member?” The voice sounded off-balance, unsteady. Kind of like the vertigo currently building up in Janus’s skull. “You said– Were we both pretending–?”

“I’m never going back,” Janus said, cutting off whatever inane nonsense the cultist was spouting. Each word felt clumsy in his mouth. “You don’t– don’t get to take anything else from me, ever. Not Logan, not the twins, not even Patton. I’ll kill you first. I’ll die first.”

He might be dying already, going by how horrible his head felt.

“Listen to me, okay, I’m not actually one of them,” the cultist was skirting around Janus like a circling hawk, flitting out of reach every time he managed to gain any ground. “I mean, okay, technically I was, but I left. I deserted.”

“Liar,” Janus accused. “You poisoned Patton!”

“Shhh! No I didn’t!” The cultist glanced over their shoulder, worry creasing their face. “Look, I promise I’m not going to hurt anyone, this was all just one big misunderstanding. Can we save this argument for when you’re a little less concussed?”

“I’m not concussed,” Janus informed them, completely truthfully and with no slurring to his words whatsoever. “I’m going to stab you to death.”

Wait, where had he put his needle?

“This is what I get for trying to be nice,” the cultist was muttering to themself. “This is the karmic retribution of not simply minding my business like usual.”

Admittedly, at the moment, they sounded a little too pathetic to be a Monoxide member. But that could be exactly what they wanted him to think!

Janus shook his head stubbornly (earning himself another jolt of agony) and then paused as he noticed a dull, rhythmic thumping, the kind that was heavy enough that it was more of a vibration than a sound.

The cultist went completely still for a heartbeat, and then there was a tense hand locked around his wrist.

“Run.”

Janus didn’t argue or try to pull away, a burst of adrenaline urging him onward as a long-ingrained reflex informed his pain-addled brain that this noise meant danger.

Despite his best efforts, it was far harder than usual to keep himself steady as he ran, his path wavering and occasionally bumping directly into the side of the cultist next to him.

Within moments, the wall entrance was within view, only a short sprint away–

A bright light flickered into existence above them, fluorescent bulbs humming audibly, and Janus couldn’t help but cry out as the pain in his head spiked to an unbearable intensity, his eyes squeezing shut automatically.

“Woah!” A nasally, too-large voice gasped.

“Move, move, movemovemove,” a much smaller voice demanded, accompanied by a string of muttered curses, yanking Janus back upright and pushing him until he stumbled blindly forward.

Another dozen harried steps, the sound of far too large movements growing far too close, and then firm pressure shoving against his back with enough force to propel him almost off his feet, right into the blessed relief of darkness.

Even between painful, narrow-eyed blinks, Janus could tell he was back within the protection of the walls, the air cooler and more tightly circulated amidst the narrow nooks and crannies. Heady relief swept through him; They’d made it.

“Gotcha!” A tangibly human voice crowed from alarmingly close.

They’d made it, hadn’t they?

There were no longer fingers wrapped around Janus’s wrist. Dread sank into him like a stone plummeting into a river. He reached out hopelessly, finding only empty air at his side, unable to block out the curious, awestruck exclamations of the nearby human.

He was the only one in the wall, despite the fact that the other borrower should have been able to outstrip him with ease.

There had been two hands against his back, pushing him clear at the last moment, when they had no reason at all to defend him.

It didn’t make any sense.

Janus buried his fingers in his hair, his head full of pain and misery and confusion alike. If he could just think for a moment, just remember what they’d said while he was half-delirious with pain…

Through the still-open entrance, Janus could see Remus peering down at his cupped hands with open fascination. His stomach twisted with nausea and guilt alike.

He’d set out to send a stranger to their death, and that’s exactly what he’d done.

Whether they’d deserved it or not.

#sanders sides fic #sanders sides g/t #ts virgil #ts janus #ts remus #isaih #in sickness and in health #my writing #writing

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lailuhhh · 8 months

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It appears to be Wednesday again

“I won’t lie to you, we don’t have any information on this, only that our boys across the whole damn desert have been getting hit. There’s no evidence that the techs can find that differentiate these IEDs from others. All reports are practically the same; groups go out, techs disarm, bomb goes off. Every place our boys are sent out to are searched thoroughly, none of the reports specify any sort of hostile activity. As of this moment, because of the extent of injuries received, some higher ups think it best for you boys to double up.”

“What are the extent of injuries, sir?”

“Most have landed our boys in med for weeks. The worst has been broken bones but nothing that have sent any home as of yet, and no deaths have occurred. As of this morning, we are temporarily offline until we receive new orders. You’ll all be informed when they come in. Dismissed.”

Every group that hadn’t run into any trouble besides the regular was given reports to look through, to study and see if they could pinpoint any common denominator between them. They were even sent copies from other bases to see if maybe those had anything similar, but none of them were out of the ordinary. The only similarities was the techs confirmed they’d disarmed the bomb before it supposedly got set off.

None of it made sense. Mac had requested to speak with a tech after reading a report of it being completely dismantled, and it still managed to somehow detonate.

“I dunno what to tell you man. I took stock of every little bit I took off it; wires, cover, power supply, distractor points— there was nothing that could’ve made it go off that I could see. There could’ve been another one around, but I scrubbed the entire area and had my scrambler on. One sec I was packing up, next I had a face full of dirt and my arm was ripped to ribbons. Don’t know where the explosion originated either. So unless it was something invisible with no way for me to detect it, I got nothing.”

And then another after that, where it was the overwatch that got it.

“Shit’s fucked right now bro. Me and Don switch off like every other week for who wants to be the tech, so we both know what to look for. His nest was clear; only said he might’ve heard something as I was just finishing up, then the fucking thing went off. He got trapped under some debris for a few hours but he’s healing. We couldn’t figure out where the explosion fucking originated, just took out the fucking building he was in. I don’t know what to tell you dude. Just be fucking careful.”

#this one isn’t anywhere near being finished #but just know Mac isnt having fun at all #neither is Jack #lailuh speaks #macgyver #macgyver 2016 #lailuh writes #macgyver fic #wip #wip wednesday

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anotheronechicagobog · 2 years

Note

Chenford HC where Lucy and Tim get held hostage together

Tim and Lucy had stopped for lunch when they got a call about a jewellery store robbery

So they toss their lunch into the nearest trash can and speed off

When they get there they go through the doors and find the owner sitting on the ground and there are four men in ski masks smashing open jewellery cases and grabbing what they can

They go through the door and do the whole "LAPD! Put your hands up!" thing and surprise, surprise, it doesn't work

It does, however, provide the owner with a distraction to run into the back office and activate a more aggressive security system than a silent alarm

Big metal shutters fall down and cover the door to the office, the front door, the employees only area, and the windows

So they are effectively trapped in a space the size of Lucy's living room with four armed gunman

fan-freaking-tastic

Yeah, they have vests, one glock and one taser each, but the robbers each have semi automatics

Chenford tries to engage in a firefight, but they're out gunned pretty quick

And then they've been completely disarmed by the robbers and have been handcuffed and seated across the store from each other, leaning on jewellery display cases

They'd called for backup before the owner had turned the place into fort Knox, but they knew that help was going to be delayed

Tim is just really fucking ticked and keeps looking for a way to get out of their situations

Lucy was playing to her strengths, trying to talk to the robbers turned captors who'd been huddled near the back wall whisper arguing, trying to figure out what to do next

"Hey, you guys haven't hurt anyone-"

"Yet." Lucy gave Tim a look for that unhelpful interruption

"You haven't hurt anyone. Let's talk, not make things worse."

"Shut up!"

"Look, all I'm trying to say is that you all-"

"Did you not hear me?! I said SHUT UP!"

The robber/captor, who appears to be the leader of the group starts to get in Lucy's face

Tim does NOT like that. At all.

"Hey, back up! Get away from her, she's just trying to help you!"

"Oh, well isn't that sweet. You're a little protective of her, huh?"

Damn, that condescending voice

Those words

Too much malicious intent

Too much like Rosalind

"Just stay the hell away from her and we won't have a problem."

Tim is well aware that Lucy can take care of herself, but that doesn't mean she has to survive alone or that she didn't need backup and the leader of the group had definitely set his sights on her

And, since we know Tim can get pretty protective over Lucy, he is very much NOT okay with that

So he makes himself bigger and badder

He makes himself a target

Because if they're going after him, they're not going after Lucy

"And what are you going to do about it?"

Head butt him. That is exactly what he's going to do about it.

It creates enough of a distraction that Lucy can jump up and disarm the guy closest to her and Tim can grab the gun from the leader

With two offenders down, it evens out the odds and it's 2v2

"Put your weapons down, don't make this any worse than it is!"

"Put your guns down, let's do what we can to resolve this peacefully."

(Guess who said what lol)

One of the other guys took aim at Lucy so Lucy and Tim shot him in the vest

That left one remaining offender who was yelling them to shut up before he blew their heads off

"It's two versus one, I don't see that going well for you. Dumbass."

But thankfully SWAT breaches before anymore gunfire could be exchanged

Tim and Lucy get checked out by the paramedics but (aside from some bruised egos) they're both fine

"You know, he was right. You can be pretty protective towards me."

"Am not. You're just my partner, partners look out for each other."

"Mhmm."

"*Sigh* Please don't make this a thing."

"Make what a thing, Sergaent Bradford."

"Ugggghh. Seriously stop."

"Alright, alright... But you do know that I can take care of myself, right?"

"Yeah, of course. But like I said, you're my partner... And partners look out for each other."

(Partners my foot)

(Insert Lopez teasing Tim here, he got locked in his cuffs and got all overprotective bf over Lucy, of course she's gonna tease him mercilessly)

Also, sorry this took forever, I've had to plan a lot of funerals and memorials lately.

#the rookie #lucy chen #tim bradford #chenford #angela lopez

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the-firebird69 · 2 years

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We're ripping out all of the morlock cloning they're far too annoying

You want to put up with them feel like a damn disease keep coming back so going out there and ripping their clothing out now had the task force ready yet and it's going on in big way huge number of clones are gone giant fluent armies eating up and we're devouring them with new cage you and other and it was setting up nice and white satin too and we're going to go after the cloning and after the areas were going to wipe them out. And her father and mother said this you shouldn't wait because they might not all go it's just going to be this repeat thing and we don't need it and I agree and tons and tons of people agreed so we're decimating them and taking their areas and they're putting their heads out the door saying it's not me I'm not in here and saying it's rigged I only go in and scan find it disable it I'm just stick it to him and they blow up sometimes we take a bunch of them and walk them right into other people they're in hell too they know what's going on their faces are white their mouths are purse and hands are closed praying like the regular people and this is far too late for that act. They didn't say this would you do it to your friends how do you know if I'm not one of them and it said you're speaking the wrong way it's one way I'll just hit him others hit him real hard knock him down kick him and he's dead the bombs don't go off they're into the crowd and they go off they keep doing it over and over huge numbers gone that way which I can if the numbers I keep telling me telling people do not ring people so we're doing it over and over and they're saying you got to find his people and stuff they're trying to and they can't seem to do it we found about it of these idiots hey I'm marching then all out, it's in New York City and it's absolutely insane this way too many of them and they're all doing it so going in there with this massive armies of Cajun and invading all of their buildings without telling them it's a huge invasion huge they don't know anything about Kaiju.

When will be fine huddled together we said we're molok.. we're here to disarm everybody cuz we took the city over and so you can't remember how to do it so looking at it I love and tell us how it's built what I'm saying I don't think I should tell you took the button and tried pressing it it didn't work I always said I wonder what happened let me see we threw him out the window and the way down and exploded and I said that's not great but okay I started moving real fast just huge numbers I'm doing it all over the world and this is the kind of behavior that exhibit so it's raining to get out and to go to DC and they won't just drive off cuz they're kind of stupid I see them all getting into the cars and we say that's finally terrific the others with the bombs can stay behind so there's a whole bunch of noise going on they're leaving the bombs behind long enough timers too though so we're going in and grabbing all the stuff there's a ton of it they'll be seeing it after a while right now as is the East Coast huge numbers of them and it really stops at South Carolina and the girls North and all the way up to lake Michigan giant numbers it said that this one of those bases in New Hampshire so looking for it still I can't find it we said it's going there tonight it's a good we'll have something to keep us busy he says yeah there's a whole bunch of bunkers up there and stuff going to be missiles with and that's what we're doing they set meowing and stuff saying what pussies for that hitting them and then the border so we're hitting them now and they stopped meowing instantly because they are incinerated instantly.

We took what you said about our son seriously and it started hitting you and very fiercely you get following him around today after you signed up saying you're dead about stupid stuff so saying to you anyone shut your mouth and finally you worked out you wiped out on your moped you're going to ride on the sidewalk forget to yell at you so you can try a knife him. He knows the math on that one cuz if he kills you fully your people are going nuts trying to find us and the max would have something so good luck figuring it out cuz he wants to kill you and at some point he'll be able to and will give him a green light and will get tons of macs and you

Thor Freya

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chaostheoryy · 2 years

Text

The Illusion of Control [Alan Grant X GN!Reader]

Summary: Several years after escaping the nightmares of Isla Sorna, Alan Grant finds himself face to face with the one person he swore would be better off without him. Turns out there’s a lot more catching up that needs to be done than he thought.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: Here it is, the Alan Grant reader insert that no one but my subconscious asked for. This takes place somewhere between the events of Jurassic Park III and Jurassic World: Dominion so while the timeline in the story is vague, just know that this is definitely post-Isla Sorna. Also, no beta. We die like men.

“Dr. Grant?”

Alan pried himself away from the paperwork in front of him and turned around. His mouth had just begun to open and form around the question, “how can I help you”, when his jaw went slack and his heart stilled in his chest. His eyes widened.

“I’ll be damned…”

The last thing Alan Grant ever expected when he rolled out of bed to return to the dig that morning was to have you standing in the entryway of his work tent. And yet, there you were, body framed beautifully by the desert and a gentle smile painted across your face. It was so surreal, so unbelievable that, for the briefest moment, he considered the possibility that the blistering heat had finally gotten to him.

But the soft chuckle that came from your throat reassured him that this was no hallucination. The one person he had desperately tried to leave in the past without considering the damage it would inflict on his own heart had actually returned. The one that he let get away out of sheer doubt and fear had found their way back like salmon returning to their breeding grounds upstream.

“Surprised to see me?” You asked with a slight tilt of the head.

A huff of laughter escaped his throat. “Is it that obvious?”

“I’m sorry, I probably should have called or at least sent your team an email. Hell, I kind of just barged my way in here.”

“It’s fine, really. I just…”

He trailed off for a moment, soaking in the image and the sensation of seeing you standing before him again. It had been years since he last saw you and yet it looked as if time had barely grazed its fingers over your skin. You were just as gorgeous as the day he’d met you, your smile still as disarming as the first time he watched it grace your lips. If there was ever going to be a textbook image to accompany the phrase, “some things never change”, it would have to be you.

“I never thought I would be so lucky as to see you again,” he admitted.

Alan straightened as you crossed the space between you. Each step you took seemed to trigger a thrum in his chest. The closer you got, the harder his heart beat until suddenly your arms were around his torso and the silly little fist-sized organ behind his sternum ceased to function altogether. His breath caught in his throat.

“I’ve missed you too,” you murmured, breath tickling the skin above his collar.

His hands hovered behind your back for the briefest moment as he debated his right to touch. You were the most delicate and beloved thing in his life, more fragile and worthy of care than even the oldest of fossils. If he ever miscalculated the strength of his words or the placement of his hands and shattered the bone of your trust, he would never be able to forgive himself.

But this momentary embrace was something he couldn’t pass up just because he was afraid. He’d been thinking about you for years, wondering if he had done the wrong thing by swallowing his emotions and burying himself in his work. So much time had passed but still you lingered in his mind like the scent of a candle long since burnt down to the wick.

His hands found their place on your back, one between your shoulder blades and the other on the small of your back. With a soft exhale, he pulled you closer. Some nights he had dreamed of holding you and every single one of those dream had soothed the ache in his chest just enough to make it through another day. But this…this was so much more. This was like coming home.

***

That night, the two of you went out to dinner. Years of catch up were crammed into one evening and, by the end of the meal, it felt as if he had pieced together the entire puzzle that was the mystery of your life without him. And God was he proud of how far you’d come.

The last time he’d seen you, you were a bright eyed grad student determined to know everything there was to learn about theropods. You attended every one of his lectures at the local university, engaged in every discussion group he headed, and constantly made it a point to go out of your way to see him. Since then you had taken everything you learned from him and your studies and applied it to your own teaching. You were now a full-blown tenured professor teaching the ins and outs of theropod behaviors and biology just like your mentor had taught you. He had sworn back when you were exchanging theories in crowded college libraries that there was nothing that could make him adore you more. Hearing about your successes like this, however, he quickly realized he was dead wrong. You had only grown more perfect in your time apart.

“What’s that look for?”

Alan wasn’t even aware that he was staring until you spoke. He sat up tall in his chair, grip tightening around the beer bottle in his hand. He cleared his throat.

“What look?”

“The one where it seems like you have so much you want to say but you can’t find the words,” you replied. “Or maybe you just don’t want to find them.”

You could have stripped him down to his briefs and thrown him in the middle of Times Square on a Friday night and he would have felt less exposed than he did in that moment. Back then you always knew when something was off. You saw through his masks and forced him to admit when he was burnt out or struggling with the countless things on his plate. The fact that you still peered straight through the facade after all this time was both terrifying and impressive.

He lowered his head slightly, forcing a tight-lipped smile. “I’m that easy to read?”

“Only if you know which pages to flip to.”

A silence fell over the table. Part of him wanted to turn tail and run, to bury every last bit of his emotions in the sands he had been digging through for the last two weeks. It would be the safest choice. If he ran, he eliminated every risk of making the wrong move and crossing a line so thin it was barely legible.

But the other part of him that wanted to kick open the gate and roam free in the wilds of emotion roared just as loud. He knew better than to think he could just forget you or ignore the way you made him feel. That approach had already failed miserably. Why make the same mistake and push away the one person that made him feel so seen? Was the idea of being vulnerable really so terrifying?

Before the two beasts in his head could finish their battle, the waiter returned with the check and your focus was drawn away from his warring stare of mind. He sighed at the momentary relief but couldn’t bring himself to celebrate. Time never left any stone untouched.

***

After dinner, he drove you back to your hotel. You had taken time out of a busy convention schedule to take a taxi out to the bluffs and say hello; the least he could do was make sure you made it back to your temporary homestead safe and sound. And hey, if part of the reason he wanted to do so was because he just couldn’t say goodbye so quickly, how were you to know?

“I had a great time tonight,” you said with a smile when the two of you reached your room, “I almost didn’t make my way out to the site today but I’m so glad I did.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Why almost?”

For the first time that night, he watched you hesitate. He could see that you were calculating, debating not only what you wanted to say but the words you absolutely didn’t dare speak. Maybe he wasn’t the only one with a mind at war.

“I don’t know. I just… I guess I was afraid to get in your way. I know how important these digs are to you and how exhausting it is after spending hours upon hours in the sun just to find a femur the size of tv remote.” You let out a small laugh that made his heart do a sloppy cartwheel in his chest before you continued, “The last thing I wanted was to bother you. Especially after everything you’ve been through. You deserve peace.”

He blinked at the statement. It caught him completely off guard, forcing his brain to run through a thousand different scenarios and questions before he even really understood what he was feeling. Of course he was happy to have returned to a reserved life where dinosaurs were just fragments of old bone rather than frightening monsters dead set on eating him for lunch. But did you truly believe that a life of peace was impossible with you in it? Had he actually made you think that he was better off without you?

“You could never be a bother,” he said quietly, “Hell, you could wake me up in the middle of the night just to tell me you’d hidden my toolbox somewhere in the desert and I’d probably be just fine with it.”

Another laugh slipped from your lips, drawing a soft smile to his face. Oh how he’d missed that laugh. If he could bottle up one sound and keep it on his shelf ‘til the end of time, it would have been just that. Nothing made him feel more special than being the one to draw even the briefest chuckle out of you.

For a moment, the two of you lingered there, soaking in the carefree sensation of sharing a laugh with one another again. Slowly that sensation dissipated and gave way to something else entirely. Alan watched as your smile faded. The cogs in your head were turning again, your eyes shifting away from him as you weighed the pros and cons of whatever decision had been placed at your feet. Finally, a daunting question broke the silence.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded. “Certainly.”

The pause that followed only made the tension worsen. He was terrified just being alone with you again. Knowing whatever was clawing at the back of your mind was complicated enough to tangle the webs of your own decision making skills made him consider whether or not he should have even made it back from Isla Sorna.

The grip you had on the strap of your messenger bag tightened as you searched for the words you had lost in the muddle of your thoughts.

“Did I do something wrong? Back in grad school, I mean. You and I were so close and you always seemed so happy to be around me. But before you left, before Isla Sorna, you just…” You let out a pained exhale. “Something changed that made you want to stay away from me and I never understood why. To this day, I still don’t. If I did something to hurt you, I really want to know.”

Alan’s breath caught in his throat. The agony behind your words and the sheer innocence in your eyes stung like a knife. You were hurting because of him and God did that make him want to drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness.

“No, I promise you did nothing wrong. I…”

He hesitantly reached for you, fingers instinctively seeking the opportunity to touch you and bring you the reassurance you so desperately needed. But before they could even brush your arm, he forced his hand into the pocket of his jeans.

“I did what I thought was best for you and stepped away.”

“‘Stepped away?’ How could cutting me off possibly be what was best for me?” You shook your head. “Alan, you were the person I trusted most. I wanted nothing more than to be there for you. I started to believe in myself because you saw the best in me. Watching you fade out of my life only to disappear entirely and never look back…I got lucky that I could see that the version of myself you showed me was still there.”

“It’s difficult to explain but believe me, I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to stay.”

The response that came was so quick, so pointed that felt like he’d been shoved into a corner with a hunting rifle aimed at the space between his eyes. “Then tell me why you couldn’t.”

Alan’s heart was racing at this point. Fear and adrenaline were coursing through his veins like a dangerous drug. He had spent his entire life trying to stay in control of his emotions. But after pushing you away and spending years regretting the pain he had inflicted upon, it became increasingly clear that Ellie Sattler was right about control: control was just an illusion.

“I left because I wanted more,” he blurted before his brain could stop him from giving in to the illusion of control.

Something inside of him ruptured. The cracked, worn-down dam holding back his feelings finally gave way and every little sensation he had kept inside came gushing out in a great flood. He wanted to cry and scream and go quiet all at once.

Lowering his head, he continued, his voice barely above a murmur. “I was terrified of being around you because I didn’t want you to see through me. I thought that if you pulled back that curtain the way you always did and saw how I really felt, then you would want nothing to do with me anymore. There’s a reason that men like me don’t get to be with someone like you.”

The last thing he expected was for you to get closer. In fact, he had been anticipating something along the lines of a slap to the face or a disgusted scoff. But neither of those instances found their footing in his reality. Instead, he found himself being warmed by the proximity of your body and felt a soothing hand curl around the side of his neck.

He slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze. Up close once again, he got lost in the beauty of your eyes. Even when they were flooded with emotion, even when he was crippled by fear and doubt, he was drawn to them like moths to a flame. If it had been physically possible to drown himself in them, there was a good chance that’s how he’d choose to go out.

“And what kind of person do you think I am, Dr. Grant?”

Your voice was low, soft yet sultry. It danced across the space between you and slipped into his ear in a way that was so enticing he nearly shivered. Like a siren’s song, your words drew him back in from the violent waves of his emotions and he found himself focusing solely on the way your lips formed around each end every syllable in the sentence.

“The kind of person that, no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop thinking about them,” he murmured, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, “Someone so incredibly beautiful and inspiring that you’d do anything to make them see you…Someone you’d never stop loving until the day you were laid to rest…”

His words faded out completely as he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. Closing his eyes, he let himself melt into your touch. Words could never properly describe the way your kiss made him feel. It took his breath away and yet, at the same time, it was as if you were breathing life into his aching soul. He had spent so many years yearning for you and now that he had you in his grasp, he didn’t want to let go.

When he felt your mouth begin to move slowly against his, inviting him to go further and dig deeper into the hills of satisfaction, he brought one hand up to cup your cheek. The gentle movements of his mouth descended into something primal when your tongue brushed against his bottom lip. In an instant, his inhibitions broke free from their restraints and threw his body into a frenzy. He kissed you hard and deep, drawing a quiet moan from somewhere within your chest. The sound made his stomach twist with pleasure. What other noises could he procure from these lips? What ungodly sounds would he make himself if he continued to expel several years’ worth of yearning and regret?

“Alan…”

He swallowed his name like a starving animal and used his other hand to grapple at your waist and pull you in tighter. The weight and heat of your body pressed against his made him feel a sense of comfort he never thought possible. Here with you, he was safe. Here with you, he would never be afraid of the ancient demons that lurked in the forests of Isla Nublar and Isla Sorna. Here with you, he was home.

His hips instinctively ground against yours as he let himself drown in the taste of your lips. There was a desperation in his movements that he didn’t even know could exist. Too many years, too little touch. And now here you were giving him something he’d only ever dreamed of.

“Alan.”

The sternness of your voice drew him back to reality in an instant, his self-restraint kicking back into overdrive and forcing him to pull away. If his cheeks weren’t already flush from the heat of it all, there was no doubt that he was burning an embarrassing shade of red.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured breathlessly, “I shouldn’t have—“

You interjected immediately, hand holding his jaw in place so he couldn’t look away. “No. Don’t apologize. I want this. I want you,” you reassured him, “You really think I’d drive all the way out to the dunes just to see you if I didn’t want this?”

His brow raised slightly, eyes studying your face with the same scrutiny he placed into his work. When it came to fossils, he could read every crack and curve of bone like a book and piece together everything that ever happened to an animal that had died millions of years ago. If he could learn to read you the same way, he’d die a very happy man.

“I just don’t really need a hallway full of strangers to hear what we’re doing,” you added with a sheepish grin.

It was at that moment that his spacial awareness returned. While his enamored brain had convinced itself that the two of you were tucked away in your own little world, you were still standing outside the door to your hotel room with a seemingly endless line of identical doors stretching out in either direction.

“Oh.”

You chuckled and brought your other hand up to hold his scruffy jaw, pulling him down to give him a soft kiss. He accepted it without any hesitation.

“Will you stay with me tonight?”

The question reignited a spark in his stomach. His eyes scanned your face some more, almost hurriedly trying to verify that your expression coincided with the words he was hearing. Sure enough, the two pieces matched perfectly and any doubt he had of your intentions was wiped out by a meteor of certainty.

He nodded, ghosting his lips over yours again as he muttered, “Of course.”

Your hands fell from his face as you stepped back. While he had no trouble waiting patiently for you to find your key card and unlock the door, there was no way he could ignore the pounding in his chest. His heart was beating unbearably fast, hopped up on adrenaline and a whole concoction of other emotions he didn’t yet have the strength to unpack. There was still a tiny voice in his head trying to convince him that he didn’t deserve this. It wanted him to remember his fears, to consider the fact that the world was populated by millions of people who were better suited to stand at your side.

But when your fingers laced between his to pull you forward and he heard the hotel door click shut behind him, that tiny voice fell silent. From then on, the only thing he wanted to hear was you.

#This is actually based on a dream I had recently so yes this is 100% a self-indgent work #Hopefully this finds all the other Alan lovers out there and fills the void until we see that silver fox on screen again #Alan Grant #Dr. Grant #Alan Grant X Reader #Alan Grant Reader Insert #Jurassic Park Imagines #JP Imagines #Alan Grant Imagines #Jurassic Park Reader Insert #JP #My fic #Reader Insert #Jurassic Park #My Imagines

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 3 years

Text

Imagine seeing Ozai’s angels for the first time and being in awe

You’d joined the Avatar and his friends quite early on and had been with them ever since. They’d initially recruited you for protection as despite not being a bender you were a very skilled bodyguard and so you got roped into protecting the avatar. You usually took your job very seriously but sometimes things (or people) could distract you.

Meeting Number One: Ty lee

You’d all arrived at Omashu to see if King Bumi could be Aang’s earthbender teacher only to find the whole city had fallen to the fire nation. In your attempt to free all the citizens a fire nation baby had been separated from his parents and Aang arranged a trade. Bumi for the baby. You had your weapons within your grasp and were toying with them as you waited to see who you would be dealing with in this trade. You heard someone approaching and turned to see three beautiful women. You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting but this was certainly not it. The three walked up in formation and you just stared "wow". "What?" Sokka asked from beside you and you shrugged "nothing....just do you think all fire nation girls look like that?”. Sokka shrugged “I guess?”. “I really need to visit the fire nation then” you whistled and Sokka shook his head at you. Aang started talking and you eagerly watched hoping to find out more about this interesting trio. You soon found out the one on the right was a princess and the one in the middle was called Mai but the other one didn’t have a name yet. You thought they were all pretty cool and then when you saw them fight...you were speechless. The princess Azula went for Aang leaving you and Katara with Mai and the other girl. Katara called she’d deal with Mai and so you got the nameless pink lady. She sprang into action and you were very impressed at how quick and flexible she was. “Wow you’re amazing” you cried as she vaulted over you. The girl smiled slightly “thanks”. You blocked her attack but didn’t bother retaliating, you just wanted to see what she could do. She didn’t disappoint. Soon the girl gave you no other option but to react. You defended yourself keeping out of her way and soon found the pattern she fought in. Sensing the fight was rounding to a close you decided to find out more about her while you could. “So you got a name?” you asked. “Ty lee” she replied and you nodded “figures, pretty name for a pretty girl”. The girl smirked at you and you both jumped to hear Katara yell. Mai had successfully pinned her and was watching you two. “Ty lee what are you doing! Get her”. “I’m trying but she’s...interesting”. You smiled at the compliment and Mai sighed “fine i’ll do it”. You grinned as now both the girls fixed their attention on you before realising that was actually a bad thing. Mai raised her knives and you contemplated your life choices when suddenly Appa appeared and knocked them away from you. You rushed to free Katara and then hopped onto Appa’s back, leaving the trio of cool women behind you.

You managed to find Aang and escape but the trio had certainly left an impression. “Still want to move to the fire nation?” Sokka asked you and you nodded “without a doubt, they were the most interesting women i’ve ever seen!”. Katara turned at the pure excitement in your voice and raised an eyebrow “You’re not serious?”. In reply you just shrugged “hey don’t blame me! Angry powerful women are my weakness” you cried. Sokka nodded “that is true, remember in that fight against June? She was useless”. You smiled at the memory “she was so cool....” you stared off into space and the others all rolled their eyes. “Well be that as it may, you have to find a way to stay strong and ignore them, can you do that?” Katara asked. You nodded “yep, totally” but you weren’t sure.

Meeting Number Two: Azula

A few weeks later you’d recruited an earth bender to teach Aang and everything was going great...then a giant tank began chasing you. You were very fed up at the metal tank following you until it opened up and three women exited. “It’s Mai, Ty lee and Azula!” you cried and Katara looked at you “you know you could try to sound less excited when you say their names, they are trying to kill us”. You smirked “sorry?”. “Who?” Toph asked. “Mai, Ty lee and Azula” you grinned “okay so i’ll start with Ty lee, basically she’s this insanely beautiful acrobat who...”. “Maybe save this for later y/n” Sokka called and you nodded “yep good idea” and fled with the others.

The girls continued to pursue you and even you were losing your excitement at the idea. So when Aang decided to end it by confronting them you agreed. You accompanied Aang to an abandoned town to wait for them but they were taking a while. So, bored, you wandered onto the outskirts kicking rocks to pass the time.

You felt Azula before you saw her. You turned and locked eyes with the princess of the fire nation. “The princess Azula” you smiled “do I bow or is that too formal?”. “It wouldn’t hurt?” she shrugged before sending fire at your head. You dodged it with a laugh “not a talker huh?”. “Why would I waste my breath on the likes of you? A petty thief with no home or money, I do my research and you’re worthless”. Your smile didn’t even waver “awww you’re just saying that because we didn’t get to spend much time together last time...you’ll love me once you get to know me. Ty lee warmed up to me”. “I’m not like Ty lee” she replied and carried on attacking you. You had to agree, Azula was not like Ty lee, she was a lot rougher. Whilst Ty lee had been aiming to immobilise you Azula was aiming to seriously injure you at best. “Certainly not as friendly as Ty lee” you agreed “but that’s okay”. “Where is the avatar?” Azula called. “I’d rather talk about you” you replied “princess of the fire nation, that must be fun, it suits you”. “I know, now tell me where the avatar is or I will kill you” the princess retorted. “No you won’t, if you killed me then you’d never know where he is” you grinned. Azula groaned in frustration and threw a large wave of fire at you, knocking you over. She rushed after it and pinned you down on the floor “still not worried I’ll kill you?” she asked. You looked from the fire she’d conjured in her palm back to her face and smiled “damn those fire nation genes are good...I thought your brother was hot but you’re even better”. For just a second, Azula faltered and you used that second to break out of her grip. You threw Azula off you and scrambled up into a run. She was close behind you when you ran around the corner straight into a fight between Aang and Zuko. “Y/n where have you been?” Aang called while Zuko stared “Azula?”. “Brother” she replied. “Sorry Azula and I were spending some quality time together” you said loudly “but we’re here now”. Azula’s eye twitched and she attacked.

You and Aang only managed to get out of the encounter with the help of Sokka, Toph and Katara who all showed up to help. Then the tables turned and you had Azula outnumbered. You couldn’t believe the princess of the fire nation had been out-smarted but of course she hadn’t really. She used a distraction and then ran from the scene. You spotted her fleeing down a back street and smiled, the princess of the fire nation was immaculate and you expected nothing less.

Meeting Number Three: Mai

The next time you came into contact with Ozai’s angels was when they infiltrated Ba Sing Sei by dressing up as the Kyoshi warriors. Aang got a vision Katara was in danger and when you approached the earth king to tell him, the fake kyoshi warriors attack but something was familiar about them.

Toph took one of the warriors and you took the other. While you were sparring with your warrior you kept staring at her...something about the girl was very familiar, but you couldn’t place her. "You look really familiar...have we met before?" you asked. "Good eye" the girl grinned before she threw a knife at you. The minute you saw the knife it clicked and you grinned "you’re Mai the hot knife girl!" before realising you’d said that out loud "ow...". Mai raised an eyebrow and carried on attacking you. Mai was just as impressive as Azula and Ty lee but a lot cooler with a drier sense of humour. You admired her choice of weapon the most and found the way she fought with it strangely captivating, so much so you didn’t fight to immobilise her, honestly you didn’t even try as you just wanted to watch her. Toph had won her fight with Ty lee and rushed to help you, mistakenly figuring you were losing. Toph looked for an opening but as both your choices of fight were close combat she couldn’t attack without possibly hitting you. You and Mai dodged around one another but you knew this couldn’t last forever. "I’m sorry but i have to say it, you’re really good with knives" you grinned as you disarmed her. Mai glared "you literally just disarmed me". "Yeah but you’re seriously the closest a person has ever come to stabbing me!". Mai raised an eyebrow "i imagine a lot of people try to stab you?". You laughed in agreement and Toph and Sokka stared. "What are you doing y/n stop flirting and fight her!" Sokka yelled. "Ow right" you smirked getting back into a fighting stance when Azula appeared "this is over”. You dropped your hands as she held a flame to the earth king’s throat and Sokka and Toph followed suit. “Grab them” Azula called. Mai stepped to you as you were closest and grabbed your arms tightly twisting them behind your back. You blushed as she gripped you roughly and looked away. "Seriously y/n?" Sokka asked and Mai noticed rolling her eyes. "Shut up Sokka you’re embarrassing me" you spat when Mai chimed in “actually you’re doing that all on your own”. “Ow come on, you enjoyed that fight too admit it”. Mai paused and you grinned “knew it” and she yanked your arms tighter “quit talking and walk”. “Whatever you say Mai” you grinned and complied.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Mai in your cell and you shook your head in disbelief “they have to be the coolest trio that’s ever existed! Every single one of them is amazing”. Sokka sighed “y/n could you please try to not be in love with our captors?”. “I can’t help it!” you cried “Ty lee was sweet but powerful, Azula was deadly and impressive and Mai was cool and funny, they’re all knockouts”. “Well great how about we try and get their numbers on the way out?” Toph asked metal bending the door down and you grinned “I mean I wouldn’t say no”.

You, Sokka, Toph and the earth king escaped from your cells and looked for Bosco. You found him in the throne room with Mai and Ty lee and paused. Toph took out Ty lee with earth bending and you locked eyes on Mai. No matter your feelings you had to do this so you got into a fighting stance when Mai rolled her eyes. "Just take the bear" she said annoyed and you smirked "thanks Mai!". The earth king ran to Bosco and your group headed for the door but you paused looking at Ty lee trapped in such an uncomfortable position. “Will Ty lee be okay like that?” you asked and Mai nodded “i’ll get her out”. “Y/n” Sokka yelled and you nodded. “Well bye, hope you get out of that soon Ty lee and tell Azula I said goodbye, she gets jealous when I leave her out. Glad I got to finally meet you Mai” you smiled and with a wink you ran away. You heard Mai groan but Ty lee just giggled. “Bye y/n” you heard Ty lee call and the smile was still on your face when you caught up with the others. “Having fun?” Sokka asked and you nodded “I cannot wait until we see them again!”.

You successfully managed to get Katara and Aang out safely and you laid back on Appa contemplating everything. You knew you were on opposite sides but each of the girls was intriguing and redeemable, even Azula who had almost killed Aang was still only a daughter trying to prove herself to her abusive parents. You could sense there were so many layers to each of them and smiled as you leant back on your arms. Hopefully you’d seen them again soon and who knows...maybe when this was all over things could be different.

____

So this is basically my literal reaction to seeing Ozai’s angels for the first time. I remember watching them all fight and just fell helplessly in love with all 3 of them. Then I read the Kyoshi novels and realised I just have a thing for fire nation women (Rangi is amazing I love her so much and I’d write for her if she and Kyoshi weren’t the best couple ever, I can’t break them up even fictionally).

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griffintail · 3 years

Note

hey, i love your storys and i was wondering is we could get a part 2 to Dad!Sam X Child!Reader. thanks.

Thank you!

In Training

Pairings: Parental! Awesamdude x Teenager! GN! Reader

Warnings: Mild Violence, Non-Descriptive Wound Mention, Past Manipulation by the Egg, Mentions of Kidnapping

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/N) whirled around as their sword struck the training dummy, Fran barking in excitement. (Y/N) chuckled at the dog’s excitement before continuing their own imposed strict training.

Sam had been at the prison for days recently but, (Y/N) while sad, didn’t falter. They tried to improve! Sam said he’d around more if he had help but trust was a hard thing to get in the SMP, and Sam had to really trust someone to help guard the SMP’s only prisoner. It was taking longer than Sam and (Y/N) would have liked but Sam had to be sure and (Y/N) understood.

Striking hard against the dummy, (Y/N) paused when instead of excited barks they heard Fran growl. Looking around as they carefully lowered their sword. Fran smelled something foreign to their area.

“Fran, protect.” (Y/N) muttered and started to move forward as casually as they could, Fran on their heels.

Trying not to alert the foreign intruders, (Y/N) tried to be casual as they picked up their shield and went towards the house. Fran was still softly growling as she followed orders from the teen while looking around. Halfway to the house was when Fran started to bark furiously. (Y/N) followed Fran’s locked gaze at the two figures approaching entering their clearing. One in white and black robes and the other a hybrid with startling red eyes.

“Hello!” The one in white robes spread their arms. “You must be Sam’s child, right?”

“Yeah.” (Y/N) said slowly. “You seem to know me, but I’m afraid I don’t know you gentlemen, and my father has taught me not to talk to strangers.”

Fran was still barking and (Y/N) made no move to calm the dog.

“Sam hasn’t talked about us? We’re good friends of his! I’m Bad and this is my friend Ant!” Bad introduced themselves. “And now we’re not strangers!”

“Afraid that’s also not how it works. If you’re looking for dad, he’s currently feeling a bit under the weather and not taking visitors. So, if you don’t mind…” (Y/N) said going to move to the house again.

“We actually wanted to meet you!” Ant quickly said. “Sam talks about you so much.”

(Y/N) stopped, gripping onto their sword. “What does he say about me?”

“Oh, a lot of wonderful things! Like how much he loves you and cares about you, how good you are at sword fighting, how well you can build, and how much he trusts you to be home alone.”

“Damn.” (Y/N) whispered as they looked at Bad.

“Language,” Bad said but grinned.

They’d caught (Y/N)’s lie but (Y/N) also could hear the underlying threat.

“What do you want?” They growled quietly.

“We wanted to talk about the Egg!”

“Don’t care. Good day.” (Y/N) huffed.

“Now!” Ant stepped forward, making (Y/N) take a step back as Fran stepped in front of them. “The Egg has a lot to offer you. And Sam! We can talk about it if you can just calm down the dog and we just sit.”

“What makes you think I want anything? I’m pretty happy.”

“Even with Sam gone so much?” Bad threw out, making (Y/N) frown. “You must be alone so often.”

“You think that’s going to help convince me? That just makes me want to get farther from you.” (Y/N) laughed.

“Come now, let’s just try and talk.” Bad spread his arms.

“No. Now, get off my property.” (Y/N) held gripped their sword tightly to make a point.

Bad sighed. “We tried to do it calmly.”

Quick as a flash, Ant pulled a bow and shot at the teen. (Y/N) was luckily just as quick to block with their shield, growling.

“Fran, attack.” (Y/N) ordered before getting low to the ground as they raced behind the dog bolting for the two intruders.

Bad pulled a sword as Ant fired at Fran first, the dog managing to change direction out of the way. Bad yelped as (Y/N)’s sword rang against his with the strong force before his face went hard and he started to fight against (Y/N). The teen could pretty easily hold their own though, they had been training. Swords scrapped against each other and (Y/N)’s shield as not far away, Fran was taking bolder and bolder snaps at the cat hybrid, keeping him occupied.

(Y/N) doubled down against Bad before managing to disarm him and knock him over before putting a point of the sword to his neck.

“Fran! Heel!” (Y/N) commanded and Fran growled at Ant but moved no further as Ant watched the teen. “I suggest…you put that down.”

Ant looked at Bad then (Y/N) going to put the bow down before smirking as (Y/N) felt a hit on the back of their head. They fell to the ground, trying to get the world to stop spinning as they heard Fran give a pained yelp but then they felt another hit and they blacked out.

“Thank you.” Bad took Hannah’s hand. “Let’s get them to the Egg. Sam can’t deny us if the Egg shows his child the path.”

…

Sam struggled slightly as he ran with his little creeper in his arms to Church Prime with his wounded side as potions did so but damn it, he’d make it there. Fran ran beside him as they made their journey. Sam hated himself for all of this. It was all his fault.

He had been guard duty for weeks. He had no one to take over for him. Ender knew how long (Y/N) was with the Egg! If he had been there instead of only finding out from Tommy!!

He’d fix it now though and he wouldn’t screw up again.

“We’re almost there Fran and (Y/N),” Sam muttered as his side, burned but he saw the tower of the church and he’d make it.

Sam looked over (Y/N) again as he sprinted down the prime path. Their usual clothes were now a deep red but the vine-like lines that had been around their eyes were now gone. He’d reverse the damage.

He stood on the edge of the holy ground a few minutes later and went over, (Y/N) finally giving their first sight of movement as they winced as they went over the line. But it was good, (Y/N) was on the grounds. Rushing inside the church, Sam put them on the edge of the pool before using an empty potion bottle to scoop up the water.

“Alright. (Y/N). (Y/N), wake up for me little creeper.” Sam muttered as he shook the teen.

It took a bit of trying as (Y/N) had passed out earlier but he managed and (Y/N) blinked awake slowly.

“D-Dad?” They muttered, disoriented.

“Yeah, here, drink this quickly.” Sam quickly propped them up.

(Y/N) couldn’t think straight yet and took the bottle without question and took a drink before wincing. Holding their head, Sam quickly hugged them.

“It’s ok, you’re ok. It’s just trying to fight against the cleanse.”

“C-Cleanse?” (Y/N) questioned as they winced at the pain.

“Drink, just drink.”

(Y/N) looked at the blurry room around them as they didn’t want to drink. They didn’t want to feel more pain.

“Come on, drink kiddo.” Sam pleaded.

(Y/N) whimpered before chugging the drink to get it over with. Dropping the bottle when it was gone, they held their head with both of their hands. Sam hugged them tightly, whispering comforting words with Fran’s head in their lap, as he waited for the Egg to leave his child. Slowly, the deep red on their clothes disappeared, and ever so slowly, the pain subsided.

When the pain was gone, (Y/N) waited a few moments before looking at Sam, who smiled so happily as he held their face.

“There’s my little creeper.” He said.

“What-What happened?” (Y/N) muttered as they looked around at the church around them.

“What…do you remember?” Sam asked carefully.

“I…There…Those men!” (Y/N) sat up straight. “They-They attacked Fran and I!”

“Who were they?” Sam clenched a hand.

“I-Bad and Ant. And—” They put a hand on the back of their head, wincing. “There was a third. They hit me from behind.”

“I-I don’t know what happened after that,” Sam admitted. “But, you’re alright now. Let’s get you home and we’ll figure this out later.”

Sam stood up and took their hand, helping them up and letting them lean on him as they started the slow walk back home.

“I…I fought them off for as long as I could.” (Y/N) told him.

“You fought them?” Sam looked at them surprised.

“Yeah, but not well…I didn’t even know there was someone else and Fran helped me.” They muttered, the dog wagging her tail.

“Still. That’s really good, Bad and Ant aren’t weak fighters.” Sam mumbled, planning a long “chat” with the Eggpire.

“Not good enough to be a guard.” (Y/N) said under their breath but Sam caught it.

“What? A guard?”

(Y/N) flushed as they looked away from the father, Sam stopping their walk.

“(Y/N), I…I know haven’t been around a lot, what’s going on?”

“That was kind of the point.” (Y/N) shrugged. “I-I know you have a lot of work to do on your own with the prison and you don’t have help! So…I’ve been training to try and help you at the prison and then we can also be together more.”

Sam’s heart melted as he gently hugged his child. “(Y/N)…Ender, you have such a big heart. I love that you tried to get better so you can help me and we can be together more often, but I don’t want you in the prison. It’s a bad and dangerous place but I promise, I’ll get guards to help me.”

(Y/N) hugged Sam back tightly, tearing up slightly. “I just…I miss you so much and I just want to help.”

“And I’m so happy to hear that you want to help and I’m so, so, so sorry I’m not home more often, but I will be. I’ll find guards and I’ll be home. I love you so much little creeper and I’ve missed you too.”

He wouldn’t let something like this happen again. He wouldn’t screw up again…

#mcyt reader insert #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #awesamedude x reader #dreamsmp x reader

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imaginethebeautifulworld · 3 years

Note

Let’s say England has a long-term girlfriend he knows isn’t the biggest fan of marriage bc her family had been really really pushy (before she got the heck out of dodge) about her marrying + reproducing ASAP. How might he react if she came to him and said she was kinda starting to like the general concept of marrying him — that is, the whole ‘together forever’ bit. Thanks!

I confess darling that I have been trying to finish this prompt for well over a year, and I offer my sincerest apologies that it’s taken me this long to finish it. Still, despite my tardiness, I hope you enjoy, and I thank you for your patience with me.

You had never intended to fall in love, not with the constant push of your relatives to fall in line like a perfect child.

First, marriage to someone they deemed acceptable, raising the perfect 2.5 children, followed by quietly settling into parenthood and complaisant contentment until the day you last drew breath.

Truth of the matter was, you had avoided all chances of romance for the first few years after you moved away from home, carefully slipping away from anyone who seemed remotely interested in you.

You knew your folks would have disproved such behaviour had they learnt the truth, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You had your own dreams to pursue, your own story to tell, your own life to live; you didn't need someone by your side to feel complete.

You were happy as you were, finding enjoyment in your work and figuring out your place in the world.

You didn’t need, or frankly want, anything more than that.

That was of course until you met him.

Falling in love with Arthur Kirkland had been a complete accident. He slipped past all of your defenses and took up residence in your heart as if he had always belonged there.

It started out slow enough; at first you simply knew him as a familiar face from the cafe in Waterstones, steaming cup of Darjeeling and a chocolate croissant sitting forgotten on the table in front of him, always too focused on his reading to pay any attention to the outside world. After one particularly crowded Sunday afternoon, he began to transition into your favorite dining companion, the two of you often taking turns paying for each other’s food. Slowly but surely, you began forgetting about your books, too wrapped up in conversation, and before you knew it-

You had come to love every part of him- the gentleman that you begrudgingly introduced to your parents, the rebellious and passionate activist, the cocky and playful little shit who had long ago memorised all the best ways to disarm you, and the ancient soul who cared so deeply, who still stretched himself thin most days in effort to protect each of his loved ones.

You fell in love with his voice, whispering sonnets and sonatas and sweet nothings in your ear while his arms cradled you from behind.

You fell in love with his eyes, still losing your footing sometimes when the light caught them just right, dreaming momentarily of summer forests and grassy glades and the misty dews of spring.

You fell in love with his smiles, from the satisfied grin at stirring up Peter’s ire to the breathless wonder each time you kissed or complimented him, to the bright, beautiful, blinding smile he wore when he was incandescently happy, his entire countenance iridescent from his joy.

You loved him completely- for his devotion, for his sweet gestures, for his damned impishness, for his wit, his sass, and the soft spoken affection.

You loved him: for his patience, for his recklessness, for his resilience, for his possessive pride that was somehow more charming than alarming.

He was unique, an enigma that, even after having lived together for years and dating even longer, kept you on your toes, his energy and random spouts of spontaneity proving to you that, even if you spent one hundred lifetimes with him, he would always remain a puzzle you would never fully solve.

And by God did you want to.

Arthur had stolen your heart away from you before you had even noticed he was close enough to take it, offering his own in its stead.

You had remained reluctant, confided in him your fears about settling down, how much you dreaded becoming trapped in a monotonous rut of tedium. He was quick to reassure you, showing through words and actions far more impassioned and teasing than he had ever shown prior, that an eternity with him could never be boring.

Even on quiet days, like today, with a steady drizzle painting the world in greys, Arthur humming quietly while adding another patch to his denim vest, and no other disturbance apart from the cat’s chittering at the robins playing in a puddle by the iron fence- Even now, you weren’t so much bored as you were pensive.

You had been thinking about a future with him a lot in the past few days, some irrelevant ad on your mobile about wedding venues catching your attention and slithering into the back of your mind.

What kind of wedding would he like? Would Arthur prefer something small and intimate, or would his hubris crave a larger venue, giving him yet another chance to prove to the world that he belonged at your side, no one else? You couldn’t help but wonder if he would wear his uniform or a suit, if he would leave the rats' nest he called a hairstyle untouched, or if he would perhaps slick it back in that way that somehow made the normal rakishness disappear, a confident, refined cavalier standing in his place.

You knew of course that none of this mattered unless you actually talked to him first; as far as you were aware, he was content with the current arrangement, and he respected your views of marriage.

He had known, for a long time, just where the grim outlook stemmed from, and he never breached the subject again.

But now-

You had thought it was enough to hold his love, his faith, his vulnerabilities. But life was so fleeting, and now those few things were no longer enough.

You wanted to wake up every morning next to him, wanted the cheesy partners’ towel and flip flop sets. You wanted the physical reminder that you held his heart, the comforting reminder that he completely possessed your own. You wanted to be by his side forever, holding his hand through the good and the ill, facing new worlds and challenges and the uncertain future together.

You knew the risks, of course.

Marriage to a Nation carried an even heavier burden than the simple oath of “till death do us part.”

No, marrying Arthur would mean weaving your entire lives together, binding you on a spiritual level far surpassing mortality; it would mean sacrificing your chance to ever grow old, to eternally give yourself away: heart, mind, body, and soul.

But this was Arthur, who sang showtunes in the shower, who spent hours making silly faces at the cat, who was ridiculously competitive about Halloween costumes, the man who sat down and memorised the entirety of The Tempest in one night just for the bragging rights.

He already owned your heart, constantly invaded your thoughts and daydreams, and God knew he had long, long ago claimed your body, making certain not a single millimeter of his new territory went unexplored.

Would it really be so bad to give him your soul, too?

Glancing back up, seeing his eyes narrowed in concentration, his fingers handling the needle with expert precision, lips slightly parted, reading glasses fallen halfway down his nose-

You knew your answer.

It was always going to be Arthur for you, only Arthur.

Forever, should he have you.

But now you faced the challenge of telling him that.

It should be simple enough; you really held no more secrets from him, and he no longer bothered trying to hide anything from you. You loved how open you were with one another, cherished the honesty that served as the very foundation to your relationship.

But the truth was that you were terrified.

It had been so long since either of you had spoken of marriage, since the topic was even a thought in your minds, and-

What if he didn't want you anymore?

What if he-

"I can see the steam coming outta your ears."

The unexpected presence of Arthur's voice startled you, eyes darting back over to the very man who was unwittingly tormenting you.

He had barely moved from his earlier position, though his glasses had been pushed up into his hair and he was studying you curiously, if not bemusedly.

"You good there?"

By default, you nearly responded with an affirmative, some playful, lighthearted thing that would have dismissed his concern immediately. You cut yourself off mid-start, then, while shifting to sit properly in the armchair, you decided to push forward. "Can we talk?"

You watched as his expression shifted, revealing his concern as he tied off his thread, setting aside the patchwork and gestured for you to join him on the sofa.

There were a few awkward moments where you took up your favourite positions, Arthur tossing an afghan across the pair of you despite your insistence that you didn't need one, the flicker of a grin as you begrudgingly thanked him, and then shifting around as you both got comfortable, but soon enough-

"Alright, now; talketh at-eth me."

It was impossible to fight the smile his choice of words triggered, a reference to an inside joke so old now that you could scarcely recall its origin. Seeming to deem it a success, his own soft, reassuring smile greeted you.

"Seriously though, luv-" His hand came to rest atop your own, his fingers gently tapping a familiar rhythm against your skin. "What's troubling you?"

You were half-tempted to offer something short of sincerity, something innocuous and mundane that you could both laugh over and forget again within a few hours. Yet, you knew that if you didn't tell him now, didn't ask him now, you would never find the courage again.

"I've been thinking-"

"Ah. A scary premise in its own right."

"Oh, shut up," you retorted to his tease, smacking his arm for his troubles. He rewarded you with a grin, all fondness and mischief. Opting to ignore him, you pressed on, eyes downcast to avoid whatever judgement he may offer.

"As I was trying to say earlier, before I was so rudely interrupted-" The teasing fell off, and the worry crept back in. "I've been thinking. About us."

"O-oh?"

Were you not so consumed by your own anxieties, you would have noticed his stutter, would have seen the sudden tension in his posture, the fear in his eyes. As it was, you were completely oblivious to all of it, and made yourself continue at his prompting.

"I- I think I'm ready."

He mimed the word "ready" to himself, parroting it with utter befuddlement. "For wha-"

"I mean, I know I wasn't for such a long time, and-" Suddenly, you were off, half unhinged. Now that you had admitted the truth aloud, it was all rushing out of you, everything you had come to love about him, everything that-

A finger pressing firmly against your lips stopped you mid-tangent, and when you glanced up to find piercing, blazing emerald focused on you as if you were the very center of the universe, whatever remained of your ramblings disappeared entirely.

"What are you trying to say?"

A simple question, so easy to answer, yet it carried with it the weight of Infinities, demanding nothing save the truth, in its most basic state.

You were lost in his gravity, half-drowning in whatever this new feeling was. It was addicting, another riddle to be solved.

"Marry me."

Time stood still, the words weighing heavily in the space between you, now seemingly insurmountable despite being no more than mere decimeters.

Arthur showed no reaction, revealed no indication that he had even heard your plea, your query, your command, your request, and yet it echoed over and over in your own mind, the tone, the weight, the untimeliness-

Every facet- from your inflection to chosen tempo- crescandoed as an accusation, a mocking symphony that he would reject you, that you would be left with only the haunting strains of your ill-conceived proposal.

And yet-

There was a hesitation in his eyes, the face of a man who wanted wholeheartedly to believe what he had heard, but had been burned far too often in the past to dare allow himself hope.

"You-" His eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed as he studied you once more, only for the suspicion to disappear again almost immediately, disbelief swiftly taking its place. "You're serious?"

It was then that you finally read his nervousness, understood the strange emotion reflecting in his eyes.

You had lead him to a precipice, the vast Unknown before you both, and-

And he was just as fragile as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.

You gave his hand a light squeeze, hoping to ground you both, and offered him a nod. “If you’ll have me, anyway.”

His eyes flickered between your own, darting back-and-forth so quickly in search of a lie, of any doubts, of any hint that you were less than certain- yet you knew he would find none of that.

“What about your family?”

The question took you by surprise; in the moment, you had completely forgotten anyone else even existed.

You weighed his question carefully. Marrying Arthur would give your family leave to gloat in self-satisfaction, and you knew with absolutely certainty that they would hold it over your head for the next three decades. But looking into the eyes of the man before you, remembering all that you had already seen and done together, you found that others' opinions no longer mattered, really hadn't mattered in a long, long time.

“I couldn’t care less about them. Arth-”

Whatever you were going to say was forgotten as he closed the remaining distance between you, moving so swiftly that you scarcely had a moment to steady yourself before he captured you in a searing kiss, one of his most passionate by far.

Somehow, despite the suddenness of it all, the initial force, the intensity-

He was being incredibly gentle, and moving slowly enough to almost be more a torment than a treat. Almost.

You found yourself lost in a daze when he finally pulled away, just enough for each of you to catch your breaths, just far enough that he could study you with rapt attention. You could have drowned in his eyes, endless greens magnetizing in their intensity. His hands were still cradling your cheeks, still holding you firmly in place, a not completely foreign expression creasing his features.

You couldn't quite place it, even as your memories shifted desperately in search of its mate.

"'If I'd have you?'" His words, a rhetorical refrain of your own mere moments earlier, were scarcely a shared breath between you, murmured in timbre so low it summoned a shiver. There was the smallest twitch of his lip, his head tilting ever so slightly as more of that damned deviousness made its presence known. "I fully intend to have you regardless, luv. But the formality of it all certainly adds a particular je ne sais quoi, wouldn't you agree?"

You'd be damned if he knew just how that made your heart flutter, if he knew just how much weight that reassurance had lifted from your shoulders.

Carefree, content, you offered a playful smile. "Till death do us part then?"

Arthur no longer bothered trying to restrain his smile, soft and sincere in a way that left you breathless. "I'll love you till even the stars go cold, my dear."

Thanks for reading~

#england x reader #aph england #arthur kirkland x reader #hello lovelies~!#hws england #hetalia england #aph arthur kirkland #hetalia arthur kirkland #hws arthur kirkland #reader insert #hetalia x reader #hello lovelies!#readerfic #thanks for reading!#aph england x reader #hetalia england x reader #hws england x reader

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whitexwingedxdoves · 3 years

Text

Foxtails and Rabbit trails | Part 2

A/N: This is part 2 to my collab with @starlessea i’ve had such a fun time working on this with Yaz and I hope you all love it as much as we do 🐰 Read Part One Here Summary: Daryl Dixon was a good hunter, but there were still some things that he struggled to find. Such as the patience to deal with you. You wore a rabbit’s foot keyring, but Daryl thought you were the furthest thing from lucky. After all, you ended up stuck with him, too.

- Lying back on the grass, staring up at the cloudless sky, you thought that the world had never looked so pretty.

The foxtails tickled your cheeks, and you could feel the fresh dew on the leaves as they gathered up beneath your fingers. You tried to focus on their texture, and how you could hear them crunch brittley before they scattered to the ground like autumn confetti.

You really did try to focus on the good.

But the pain was blinding.

“Hol’ still, ‘m gonna get ya outta there,” Daryl whispered, but you picked up on the way his voice stuttered over the words.

He got to work on disabling the trap, every little movement translating into a jolt of searing pain which made you cry out for him to stop. Though, the look in his eyes was no better. Even through your tears, you could understand that this was hurting him just as much as it hurt you - maybe even more.

If only you hadn’t been so fucking careless.

You reached out your hand for your satchel, fumbling in the grass until your fingertips brushed up against the soft fur of your rabbit’s foot. It was supposed to be lucky.

What a joke, you laughed, and grit your teeth through the pain.

Daryl disarmed the trap, making you whimper hoarsely once more as the metal jaws dislodged from your ankle. Your knuckles had turned white over that rabbit’s foot - almost matching its snowy pelt.

The man retrieved the rag from his back pocket - that same one you’d joked about not so long ago - and used it to bind your leg to stop the bleeding.

Maybe that ratty cloth was handy, after all.

You tried to look down to catch a glimpse of the injury, and assess the damage. Except, Daryl didn’t let you.

“Eyes on me,” he instructed, gesturing to himself with his free hand.

You nodded, before letting your head fall back onto the damp grass. You glanced off to the side, noticing the mounds of dirt that crumbled near you.

“Hey, Daryl,” you murmured, “look at all of the burrows.”

The man didn’t look up from what he was doing - tending to you - but he still nodded his head anyway.

“Yeah,” he replied, tightening the makeshift bandage, “see if ya can spot any rabbits.”

And with that, Daryl carried you back to Alexandria - quickly and carefully, looking down at his feet the entire time.

Once you reached the infirmary, the man placed you on one of the beds whilst Denise got to work. She tried her hardest to be gentle with you, but even the softest touch made your skin crawl. Painkillers were given - only dulling the sensation ever so slightly - but they seemed to be enough for the doctor to stitch up your wounds, and replace Daryl’s old red rag with a clean bandage.

“I thought you hunters were supposed to be mindful of your surroundings,” Denise quipped, sending one of her sneaky looks your way as she finished her work.

You rolled her eyes and shuffled ever so slightly in the bed, trying to get a glimpse.

“Yeah well, it was pretty well hidden,” you hit back.

Daryl cleared his throat from the corner of the room; he’d been so quiet that you almost forgot he was there.

“Nah, ya got too distracted by the damn rabbits,” he grumbled.

More like too distracted by damn Daryl Dixon.

A glare was exchanged between you and the archer, but your smile got wider the longer you stared.

“Either way, it got you pretty good. You need to stay off that leg.”

With a stern tone, Denise broke your gaze.

You shook your head. “That doesn’t work for me,” you argued, “I’ve got people to feed!”

In response, you tried to shuffle off the bed - but a searing pain clambered up your leg and stunted your movements.

“I’m sure Daryl wouldn’t mind taking over for a while. Just until you’re better,” Denise reassured you.

The young doctor peered over her glasses at the archer, only for him to reply with a grunt.

“Now rest,” she told you, pressing your shoulder back down into the mattress. “Doctor’s orders!”

That first night at the clinic had been quiet - far too quiet. It made you mull over your mistake until it was old in your mind, and heavy on your conscience.

That is, until Daryl returned to bring you dandelions.

Denise had insisted that you stay where she could keep an eye on you, until the morning at least. But, you missed the comforts of your own room - where it was familiar. The walls of the infirmary were too white and barren, as opposed to your house which was decorated with pressed flowers and furs and much too many books.

Your foot twitched occasionally, and every time you closed your eyes you could hear the snapping of those metal jaws as they clamped shut.

Sleep would probably elude you tonight.

Your nerves were made even worse when you were startled by knuckles rapping on the window. Reaching for the lamp, you illuminated the figure behind the glass - who also seemed spooked at having been caught.

Daryl stood there, motioning for you to open the latch on the window.

You did, and the man lifted the pane, letting in the cool night’s breeze.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” you whispered, peering around the infirmary.

Daryl scowled, and muttered something below his breath that you couldn’t quite make out. The lampshade cast long shadows on his face, and you could only see the whites of his eyes poking out from between the strands of hair hanging over them.

“I ain’t,” he rasped back, gesturing to where he stood. “Technically.”

You raised an eyebrow at the man, not expecting that dry humour to come from him. He shook you off, and continued.

“Not stoppin’ long,” he dismissed, lifting up his backpack and fumbling around in it. “Went back out there an’ couldn’t see no more traps.”

He smirked - faint and dim in the artificial light. But you still caught it.

“Ya must’ve sprung the only fuckin’ one.”

You laughed a little too loudly.

“Just my luck,” you shot back.

Daryl pulled something out from his bag - something you immediately recognised. It was a pelt blanket of soft, tawny fur. You’d made it yourself.

“Olivia tol’ me to give ya this,” he explained, feeding the material through the open window until you could reach it. “She went to get it from yer room.”

The feeling between your fingers instantly brought you comfort, and you ran the blanket along your cheek absentmindedly.

Before you could reply, Daryl fished something else out from the rucksack and placed it on the windowsill.

It was a glass bottle of dandelions.

It was a soda bottle, to be exact - probably snuck out of the pantry when no one was looking. You also recognised the flowers; you’d seen them out hunting once and noted just how much you liked the colour.

They looked like sunshine.

“Those from Olivia, too?” you whispered, gently stroking over the petals with your fingertips.

Daryl zipped up his bag and shook his head.

“Nah,” he mumbled, gesturing for you to close the window behind him. “These are from me.”

That was when you realised that perhaps Daryl Dixon wasn’t such a hard ass after all.

Though, your favourite memory from back then had to be the time he brought you bluebells. You’d practically chewed his ear off on one of your earlier trips, telling him all about how pretty they were - but you never thought he was listening.

You’d been sitting in your front room, pressing the previous bunch of flowers between one of your bigger books, when Daryl entered your home that day. Denise still hadn’t given you the all clear to go back out and hunt, and your movements were still pretty limited.

Hence, the constant appearances by the other hunter.

At this point, it had just become a part of the routine. Daryl would visit the house, walk straight to the empty vase on your bedside, and fill it with a new set of flowers.

Though, today was a little different.

Usually, he’d drop off some of the meat he’d managed to catch, and then leave. But, today he took a seat on the sofa opposite yours and fumbled with a tangled up cord.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” you giggled, sitting further back into your cushion.

“Been trying to fix ya stupid traps out there. Can’t get the knot right,” he mumbled, his patience wearing as thin as that rope in his hands.

You couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh at his words.

The irony tasted so sweet.

Daryl shot you a look which instantly made you cover your mouth. “Come here, I’ll help you,” you managed to say, whilst beckoning him over.

He did as instructed, but not without grumbling.

You took the cord from his hands and effortlessly untangled it. Daryl muttered something under his breath - but instead of prying, you took the victory and proceeded with your demonstration.

“Loop the rope around your hand like this and tie it.”

Before finishing the action, you handed it over to Daryl so that he could do it by himself.

“Then you fold the loop over to make ears, just like a rabbit!” you announced proudly, leaning over the man to show him exactly how it should look.

He scoffed. “What is it with you and the damn rabbits?”

You rolled your eyes at the archer, and nudged him in the side for not paying attention - to which he carried on following your directions.

“Then you thread the rope through,” you instructed, your hand hovering over his as you watched for any mistakes.

You hadn’t realised how close you were to him until he had finished the knot. You pulled away, and cleared your throat before refocusing on the cord - not daring to dwell on the tension.

“Then you add this end to the spring and leave the other end hanging.”

Daryl nodded silently, inspecting your work like he was trying to recreate it in his mind.

“Thanks,” he eventually whispered, chewing at the corner of his lip.

It didn’t take the man long to spring to his feet and murmur a goodbye before leaving.

Thinking back on it, you could only laugh at how naive you both had been.

Those bluebells were the last flowers ever left in that glass vase, but they hadn’t been the last you’d seen during your time at Alexandria. To this day, you still had an old, leather-bound book tucked away somewhere on a shelf - containing all of those pressed flowers with their dried up petals and stems. But, they weren’t the most memorable.

No. The ones you could remember the best, despite not having them laid flat atop a page, were the foxtail lilies.

“You good?” the man asked, guiding you through the long grass.

You followed him slowly, weaving through the wildflowers - being careful not to trod on them.

Your leg had mostly healed, but your confidence still hadn’t made a full recovery. It was your first time hunting since the accident, and you couldn’t help but keep your eyes locked on your feet the entire time - despite Daryl having reassured you that he’d checked the area three times over.

“Yeah, just feels weird,” you replied, rolling your ankle. “But it’s good to be out again, thanks for taking over for me.”

Despite being out of commission for a few weeks, the people of Alexandria definitely hadn’t starved - that’s for damn sure.

Daryl shook his head, and continued to step through the foxtail lilies. He was leading you back to that new area - to explore it properly this time.

“Nah, ain’t nothin’,” he shrugged, not even sparing you a backwards glance.

You followed his trail, where his boots had flattened the grass and made it easier for you to navigate.

You sighed. “Can’t just say ‘you’re welcome’, can you?”

Something sprung in the distance, and you immediately flinched. It took you a few seconds to figure it out - but you soon realised that you recognised that sound.

You turned to the other hunter, only to find that he was already looking at you.

“Daryl Dixon,” you breathed, a smile already wide on your face. “Did you set a twitch-up snare?”

The man shook his head, before pointing into the distance - at the dozens of burrows you hadn’t gotten the chance to show him that day.

“Not jus’ one,” he announced, as you glanced around the field, counting the traps.

No wonder Alexandria hadn’t gone hungry.

Another one sprung, and made you jump. You couldn’t help it, you slapped Daryl over the back and laughed too loudly - probably making the remaining rabbits scurry back into their burrows.

“Be still my beating heart!” you joked. “I knew you’d come around.”

The lilies tickled your legs as they blew in the breeze, and made you laugh even more. But for once, the man didn’t scold you for scaring away the game.

“Yer welcome,” he replied, and smirked straight back.

Daryl thought of that memory, as he and Judith made their way through the darkened forest, back to the house.

You had definitely changed him since then - in more ways than how he set up his traps.

Daryl hung behind the young girl, watching her feet as she navigated the thick overgrowth, and stepped over tree roots - her fox tail charm swinging from her jeans.

It had been his, once. He’d caught that red fox himself in the dead of winter, and kept the brush just like you’d told him to do. Though, Judith Grimes had taken a liking to it as a baby - always reaching for the soft fur with her small hands, and sneezing when Daryl used it to tickle her nose.

It was hers now; it had been since that day.

As if feeling his stare, Judith turned back and called out to Daryl for him to hurry up - unless he wanted dinner to be cold. He let out a grunt and picked up the pace.

He was too damn old for this.

The two of them returned to the cabin before the sun had set, but Daryl could already smell the scent of cooked meat from the pathway, a few minutes back. The lights were on inside, flickering warmly behind the glass windows - as though calling the both of them home.

Judith reached the door first, and rapped on the wood, tapping out their signature knock. As soon as it creaked open, the young girl burst through - nearly knocking you over as she trudged through the house with a wide smile and muddy boots.

Then, you disappeared behind the frame after her - yelling something about how animals were meant to be on a plate, and not seated at the dinner table.

Daryl couldn’t help but laugh at that one; you always did have a good sense of humour.

But for that reason, the hunter made sure to wash his hands as soon as he stepped through the door - before even attempting to put them on you, and pull you in close.

But once he did, you beckoned him over.

Daryl felt the warmth of your skin as you pressed your forehead to his.

“‘M home,” he murmured, offering out the bunch of wildflowers he’d picked for you on the way back.

They were slightly crushed from his grip - the stalks bent and the petals flaking off - but you still smiled at him in such a way that it made his breath catch.

Yeah, he thought, you hadn’t changed one bit.

“My favourites,” you replied, and placed those foxtails in fresh water at the centre of the dinner table.

tags: @browneyes528 @phoenixblack89 @srhxpci @jodiereedus22 @witch-of-letters @deadthewalking

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic

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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

Happy Fucking New Year!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 5071

Summary: You and Bucky spend New Year’s Eve together in Paris!

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (F receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, anal play, cum eating), explicit descriptions of violence, minor character death, SMUT, 18+ only!!!

A/N: Well, my grandma ass passed out while literally writing this fic last night at like 10PM so sorry it’s late! But it’s still New Year’s Day so whatever. It’s kinda fun, I definitely enjoy having Bucky and Sam be complete idiots while our poor reader is the only one with common sense, so you may be seeing a lot of those two fucking things up in this series. Join my taglist here if you’re inclined and a Happy New Year to all you lovely hoes!

“Damn, Barnes. Look at your ass in that tux.”

He choked on his champagne when you snuck up behind him, grabbing one ass cheek and giving it a squeeze before he had a chance to turn around.

He didn’t know how you always managed to catch him off guard. He was used to being able to pick up on any threat immediately, but you were always able to slip under his defenses.

The expression that came over his face when he finally saw you was priceless. You loved surprising him with shockingly revealing outfits, offending those sweet old man sensibilities he pretended to have in public. But you knew exactly what he was thinking as his eyes drank you in.

The gown you had picked was a deep blue velvet that hugged your curves. While the skirt was tight against your legs, it still could’ve possibly been considered modest. The top though…. The v of the neck wasn’t as deep as your usual style, but the back dipped so low he wondered how you could possibly be wearing panties. All he could think of was snapping those thin straps with his vibranium hand and watching the fabric slide over your soft skin before it pooled around your ankles.

He couldn’t believe the two of you were spending New Year’s Eve in Paris. You’d barely had a chance to speak to each other after your tryst in Stockholm, and now you were together in the city of lights on one of the most romantic nights of the year.

“Hey, Barnes, you still in there?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He grinned at you as he watched you take a sip of champagne. “Just wondering where you’re hiding your knives in that dress?”

“Mmm, if this night goes according to plan, maybe I’ll let you look for them later.” You teased him, giving him a wink as you walked your fingers across his chest.

“Alright, that’s enough. You two promised to cool it with the kinky shit over comms.”

The two of you turned to shrug apologetically at Sam, who was glaring murderously at you from across the foyer.

“Sorry Sammy.” You whispered, tittering to yourself.

“Yeah, sorry Sammy.” Bucky gave him a stupid grin as the three of you started slowly moving to one the hallways leading to the main building.

“You don’t get to call me that, Barnes. You keep getting me into these fucking stupid situations, and your poor girlfriend always has to get us out. We were almost home, man, and you just had to follow that shady fucker at the airport.”

“No, he was following me. And anyways, I was right about him. I told you HYDRA had various goon squads lurking around.”

“You guessed.”

“I guessed right.”

“So, you admit it, you guessed!”

“Hey, boys!” You furrowed your brow as you turned to glare at the two of them, a little annoyed at the bickering. “Isn’t there supposed to be a door here?”

They finally shut up and followed your line of sight to where all the intelligence indicated the access door to the arsenal should be located.

Bucky let out a deep sigh and clenched his jaw, his eyes moving up the wall until they found the tiny hatch in the corner, fifteen feet off the floor. He turned his head to Sam and growled.

“You were in charge of reconnaissance. Do you not know the difference between a door and a hatch? Do your little robot minions not know how to take measurements?”

“Hey, don’t blame the robots man! This was based on human intelligence, which I’m pretty sure is your responsibility.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You ground your teeth together as you listened to the two of them, not sure how you were able to put up with this shit. You took in your surroundings, trying to figure out a way through this situation.

“Well one of us has to get up there.” You murmured to yourself.

“I nominate robot boy.”

“Ok, ya know what, they’re not robots. I might’ve been able to let it go but, heh, I can’t. They’re drones. And if you think me buzzing one of those through the party out there is inconspicuous…”

“Oh, not one of your robots, you. What if I throw you at the hatch?”

One glance at him let you know he was seriously considering throwing your friend at the hatch. You rolled your eyes as you slipped out of your pumps.

“Ok, now you’re trying to piss me off, I just told you they were drones. And you are not throwing me at that tiny door. It’s not even open.”

“Well, if I throw you hard enough, that won’t matter.”

“It’s a solid steel door, dumbass. And I’m pretty sure it opens outward. I vote we come back later with some tools.”

“We’re on a timetable. I say we settle this with some old-fashioned rock, paper, scissors.”

“Um, no, you cheat.”

“How can you cheat at rock, paper, scissors?”

You did your best to tune them out as you stretched, sighing as you gathered your dress up over your thighs and grumbling to yourself about ruining another outfit.

“I don’t know, but you do. Ok, if you use your normal hand, maybe that’ll work.”

“Whatever, I’ll still win.”

You walked back down the hall, then turned and sprinted past the two of them, vaulting off one leg when you reached the corner and using your momentum to spring yourself off the wall until you were able to brace yourself in the tiny alcove next to the hatch.

“Could one of you toss me the laser driver from my clutch?” You called down to them, now that they had finally stopped their incessant arguing.

Sam grinned up at you as he picked your clutch off the ground, tossing the driver to you when he found it.

“Man, every time.” He shook his head at Bucky as you started working on dismantling the door. “I don’t know how your dumbass has survived this long without us, Barnes. You can’t just punch your way through everything.”

“I’m sorry, ‘us’? Seems like she’s doing all the work while you’re just bossy.”

“Can you two just give it a rest? I’m in.” You pulled the hatch open and slid through it, hanging over the edge by your fingertips for just a second before softly dropping on the balls of your feet on the other side. “Fuck, that’s a lot of bombs.”

“What kinds of bombs?” Sam asked over the comms, all business now.

“Well, I’m not an expert, but this sure looks like tesseract related tech to me.”

“Shit.” Bucky hissed. “Any way to disarm?”

“Well, probably, sweetie, but there’s at least 100 of these fuckers, and I don’t really feel like spending all of New Year’s Eve playing ‘which wire?’”

“Alright, just give us a second.”

You heard a yelp from outside and all of a sudden Sam’s torso came flying through the open hatch, his hips catching on the edge.

“Did he just throw you?” You asked, not bothering to hide the grin that spread over you face as Sam looked for something to swing down with. You dragged over an empty shelf and he pulled himself through, climbing down gingerly to come stand beside you.

“Your boyfriend is a fucking menace.” He grumbled, brushing some debris off his shoulders. He whistled through his teeth when he got a good look at the stockpile you had uncovered. “Shit.”

“Fuck me.” Bucky murmured, suddenly behind the two of you, making Sam jump.

“Goddamn it Barnes, why you gotta always be so stealthy?”

“Maybe you just need to pay better attention, what if I’d been a goon?”

“You are a goon.”

“Oh my god, I cannot do another round of this. Sam, can you call this in please? Maybe Sharon will have some idea of what to do about the massive pile of shit we just stepped in.”

“Fine, Y/N. I’ll call the boss.”

You went to examine the bombs more closely. They all seemed to have remote triggers, but you didn’t want to take the chance that they were volatile, so you resisted the urge to pick one up.

“Yeah, this is definitely tesseract tech.” Bucky muttered, and your heart jumped into your throat when you turned to see him tossing one of the bombs into the air and catching it again in his vibranium hand.

“Motherfucker put that down you idiot! What if there had been a pressure sensor?”

Bucky stared at you for a second, then back at the bomb in his hand. “Right, whoops.” He placed it back on the pile gingerly and gave you a sheepish grin.

“I swear to god, the two of you are going to end up getting me killed.”

“Ok, boss said they have a remote drone about one minute out that should have the ability to disarm these. She just wanted us to open the skylight for it.”

“The what?” You hissed at him.

“Uh….”

“There’s a fucking skylight?” You looked up and scoffed, seeing a very large window right there in the ceiling.

“Nice, Wilson.” Bucky just shook his head at him.

“Fuck you, Barnes! You didn’t know about it either.”

“No more! One of you morons get up there and open it!” You were seething. “You’re lucky I like the two of you or I swear to god, I would stab the both of you right now.”

“Alright, rock, paper, scissors?”

“No!! Bucky, just fucking do it.” You screwed your eyes shut and pressed your fingers into the peaks of your eyebrows.

“You got it, beautiful. You’re so cute when you’re mad… shit.”

He had to scramble up one of the shelves as you tried to charge at him, but Sam was able to hold you back at the last second.

“Ok, let’s all just take some deep breaths. It’s all good. The drones on the way. We didn’t have to fight anyone. And there’s still 25 minutes until midnight, so we’ll all get to toast the new year.”

Right as he uttered that last word, a large door on the opposite end of the room opened, and three goons carrying large guns entered.

“Goddamn it, Wilson, you jinxed us. And look, another fucking door!”

“Yeah, they do seem to be popping up everywhere.” He muttered under his breath. “Hey, fellas, we were just…. god, y’know what, I’m too tired to come up with something. Should we just fight?”

You sneered at him before hefting one of the bombs and chucking at the head of one of the guards, hitting him right between the eyes and knocking him out.

“OOHH! What if that had gone off?” Sam yelled at you as you charged the two standing goons who were still standing, diving at the last second to roll one of them over your shoulder.

“Oh, so only you and grandpa are allowed to make stupid decisions, then?” You said, pulling out a knife from under your skirt and trying to stab the guard who was still standing. You were just a little too slow and he dodged you, making you hiss. “Do you mind giving me a hand?”

“Shit, right.” He found a metal pipe leaning against the corner and walked over to where the first guard was starting to come to his senses, bringing it around in an arc to crash against his chin, knocking him out again.

“Drone’s here! Aww man, you guys started a fight without me?” Bucky had climbed back down to find the two of you grappling with your respective opponents.

He walked over and punched the asshole that had Sam in a chokehold in the face with his vibranium fist, feeling a satisfying crunch as he went down. Bucky started to stride over to give you a hand as Sam tried to catch his breath when you suddenly drove your knife up under your opponent’s ribs, giving it a twist before you withdrew it.

“Y’know,” He murmured as he watched you bend over to clean off the blade on the dead man’s jacket. “I’m a little mad at you now. I was looking forward to looking for that later tonight.” He grinned at you, nodding at the knife in your hand as you drew up your skirt to return it to the sheath on your thigh.

“Don’t worry sweetie, there’s plenty hiding under here for you to discover.” You teased him as he pulled you to him, pressing a deep kiss to your lips and moaning against your mouth. He always got so worked up after watching you fight.

“Ugh, I’m still here, you freaks!”

“Shit, sorry Sam!” You flashed an apologetic grin at your friend as he glared at you. Bucky was pulling at the front of his pants and screwing his eyes closed as he tried to fight his obvious erection.

“There’s something wrong with you two.” He muttered under his breath as he started climbing the shelves to leave through the skylight.

The drone had done its job. All the indicator lights on the bombs were off, showing there were no longer armed. You gave a small sigh of satisfaction before looking up at the skylight.

“Gimme a boost, Buck.”

“Yep.” He hooked his hands under one of your heels and grinned to himself as he brought his arms up a little faster than you had intended, flinging you up to the roof in one swift motion and making you yelp.

“You’re such a dick!” You shouted down to him as he started to climb out after you, making him laugh. “What time is it Sam?”

“Hey, we’ve still got 10 minutes to midnight!” He said, giving you a grin.

“Ooh, think we can make it back?”

“Yeah, it’s just a couple rooftops over! Barnes, move your ass!”

Bucky was just climbing onto the roof as you and Sam started jogging towards the adjacent building and cursed under his breath as he clambered to follow you.

Sam let out a whoop as he leaped between the buildings, one of his drones catching him halfway and carrying him to the other side.

“Oh my god was that waiting out here the whole time?” You scolded him as he swooped back to lift you across the gap, depositing you softly on the next roof.

“Yeah, why are you surprised?”

You just gave him a laugh as Bucky flung himself over the space between the structures, rolling in his landing and scowling at the two of you when he regained his feet.

“No thanks, I don’t need any help.” He growled at Sam, voice dripping with sarcasm as he brushed some pebbles off the shoulder of his tux jacket.

“You’re fine.” Sam waved a dismissive hand as the three of you walked to the next edge, which led to your hotel.

You dropped down first to the ledge that was 10 feet below, landing on the balls of your feet and twisting just a bit to gain your balance before you started gliding towards the window to your room.

“You good, Y/N?” Sam called as they watched you crouch as much as you could when you reached the end of the ledge.

“She’s got it.” Bucky muttered as you uncurled your body like a whip, shooting across the gap between the two buildings, latching onto the buttress above your window as you stretched down, your toes reaching for the lower sill. You found your purchase and released one hand to draw the window open, then slipped inside easily. “See?” He gave Sam a grin as he moved to follow you.

It only took the two of them a minute to join you, and you met them with champagne and a pleased smile on your face.

“Hello boys, just in time for the countdown!”

You passed out the drinks and took one for yourself before the three of you headed out to the small balcony that was around the corner from the window you had entered through.

“And 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Happy New Year!” The three of you shouted.

You heard the city erupt in cheers and fireworks started exploding over the Eiffel tower. Bucky set his champagne flute down and drew you into his arms, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You sighed as you opened up to him, welcoming the crisp taste of champagne on his tongue as he curled it against yours.

“Ooookay, that is my cue to leave.” Sam said, downing the rest of his drink and avoiding making eye contact with either of you as he made his exit.

“Mmm, Happy New Year, Sammy!” You called after him. Bucky just waved a hand at him as his mouth moved down to your neck, his lips trailing over your throat as his other hand pressed against the small of your back.

“Just, remember to take out your comms, I’m begging you.” Sam said before shutting the door behind him.

“Fuck, right.” You plucked yours out of your ear and set it next to your glass as Bucky drew you back into the room, sucking on the curve of your shoulder softly. He released you for just a second to remove his own comm and closed the door to the balcony before turning back to you.

“Oh, that fucking dress.” He growled as he took you in, his eyes dark with desire. “You know, I’ve been wanting to peel you out of that thing all night, you damn cock tease.”

You stepped into him and pressed your hand against the bulge in his pants as you nipped at his bottom lip. “Mmm, your always so good to me when I tease you though, baby. I can’t help it.” You moved your hands up to start undoing his tie. “Besides, I don’t know how you can blame me for teasing you when you’re walking around in this tux. I’ve been wet all night.” You whipped the tie off and started working on the buttons of his shirt as you took his earlobe between your lips and sucked on it.

His hands moved to your ass and squeezed as he ground his hips against you, making you gasp. “Don’t tell me that unless you want me to do something about it. Fuck, are you even wearing anything under here?”

You slid his jacket off his shoulders and followed it with his shirt, running your fingers over his bare torso before starting to undo his belt. “Why don’t you get it off me and find out?” You purred, gazing up at him through your lashes as you drew the belt through the loops and moved to unbutton his fly.

He leered at you and brought his hands up to your shoulders, running the thin straps of your gown through his fingers before snapping them easily. He sighed as he watched the material slither over your curves and pool at your feet. “I fucking knew it.”

You were completely bare under his gaze, aside from the two knife belts you had around your thighs, each of which contained 2 blades.

“Damn it, Barnes.” You scolded him.

“What?”

“Could we have one night where you don’t end up ruining at least one expensive item of clothing?” You sighed, bending over to pick up the dress and shooting him a soft look of reproval.

“Shit, baby. I’m sorry. I get too excited.” He did feel a little bad, but every time you wore something like that, all he could think of was ripping it off you.

“Well, now you’ll just have to make it up to me.” You teased, tossing the dress aside and drawing him closer.

“Yes, ma’am.” He murmured as his fingers moved to start undoing the belts around your thighs. He brushed his lips against the small hollow beneath your ear as he worked, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin there as his fingers brushed over your legs, making your pussy clench around nothing. “You want me to show you how sorry I am with my tongue?” He set aside the two belts and moved a hand to cup your sex, groaning at how warm and wet he found you.

“God, just fucking do it.” You hissed as he teased a finger between your folds, barely brushing against your heat before withdrawing again.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” He picked you up and carried you a few feet to lay you on the dining room table, kicking the chairs out of the way with a clatter.

He gave you a searing kiss, taking your breath with him when he withdrew to kneel between your thighs. His stubble tickled at your skin as he moved his lips and tongue up your inner thigh at an agonizing pace, moving to the other thigh when he had almost reached your cunt and making you whine.

“I’m so sorry I ruined your dress, pretty girl.” He finally dragged his tongue over your slit and you let out a low moan, your fingers burying themselves in his hair as he repeated the motion. “Wish I could promise it won’t happen again, but this pussy does things to me.”

He pressed the flat of his tongue against you and drew it over your entrance heavily, slurping up all the evidence of your arousal with an obscene sound before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. The whimper you let out made his cock twitch as your thighs clenched around his shoulders, drawing him into you even further.

“God, Bucky, right there.” You murmured as he increased the pressure on your bundle of nerves and inserted two fingers into your cunt, moaning at the feeling of your satiny walls clenching around him. He curled them just a bit and you wailed, arching your back into him as you started whispering “please” over and over like a prayer.

He grinned against you as he shook his head slightly, pressing himself even further into your heat and lapping up the juices that leaked from you as he fucked you with his fingers.

He added a third finger and crooked his wrist just slightly and that was it. Every muscle in your body went rigid as you came against his face, soaking him in your release as you clamped down on his fingers and sobbed with pleasure. You released him slightly, only to spasm again from the aftershocks as your muscles quivered around him. He finally managed to draw himself away and stood between your legs, grinning down as he watched you come down from your orgasm, shivering occasionally as a random jolt of pleasure shot through you.

“You think you can forgive me?” He asked wickedly as he finished undoing his slacks and slid them over his hips, followed by his boxer briefs. He drew his hand over his length as he waited for you to answer, nudging the tip of his cock against your folds and making you yelp.

“Fuck, yes. God Bucky.” You sat up and wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing his face to yours violently. You ground your hips against him, groaning as you felt his shaft slide through your slick easily. He started to lift you to bring you to the bedroom and you shook your head a bit before releasing him. “No, I need it now.”

He grinned at you as he teased his head against your clit, making you whine. “You want me to fuck you right here on the table?”

“God, yes please. Gimme that cock. I need you inside me.” It was driving you crazy. You brought a hand between the two of you and wrapped it around him, making him hiss as you lined him up. “I want you to split me open then fuck me until I can’t breathe.”

He let out a low growl from deep in his chest. He loved when you talked like this. He pushed into slowly with a groan until he was sheathed to the hilt, relishing in the feel of you clenching around him. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. So tight and warm. What else you want me to do to you?” He started moving his hips slowly, grinding them against you each time he was bottomed out.

“Shit,” You were panting with need as he moved inside you, his cock dragging against your g-spot over and over and making it hard to think. “I want your mouth on my tits. God, just like that.” He was following your instructions beautifully, dragging his tongue over the inner slope of your breast as his hips kept up their slow pace. “Fuck, baby, suck on my nipples now.”

He did as you asked, swirling his tongue over the sensitive buds as his lips closed around them, sucking softly and making you whine. He’d always been good at following orders.

“Mmm, move faster.” You commanded, wrapping your fingers in his hair as he continued lavishing attention on your breasts.

He obliged easily, picking up the pace until he was slamming into you, knocking the breath out of you. You met each of his thrusts with your own, mewling as you felt a coil starting to knot in your abdomen.

“God, I’m gonna cum.” You whined.

One more drive of his hips and the coil broke, making you scream. Your fingernails dug into his scalp as you went stiff for just a beat before everything released. He smiled into your neck as you vibrated against him, panting heavily as you came down.

He kept fucking into you like a man possessed. He brought his mouth back up to yours and kissed you softly as he felt you relax a bit. “Did I do good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, baby, you did great.” You laughed into his mouth as he kept moving.

“You’re in charge, pretty girl. What do you want now?”

“God, work my clit. Fuck, just like that.” You were having trouble focusing as he did what you asked. “I need your mouth on my neck. Hngh, Bucky! That’s so good.”

“What else, beautiful?” he grinned against your throat, loving how easily you were coming apart around him. He picked up the pace with his hips a little more and felt you flutter around him.

“Shit, stick your thumb up my ass.”

He was not prepared for that and his hips faltered for a bit. He whipped his head up to stare at you as he regained his composure.

“What?”

“Ahh, fuck.” You were just a little embarrassed. You usually liked to ramp up to this type of thing, and especially with Bucky, you had wanted go really slow with this particular kink. You didn’t know how much of a thing anal play had been in the 40s. “Um, you can forget I said that.”

To your surprise, he broke out into an absolutely sinful grin and gave you a savage kiss as he laid you back on the table, stilling his hips but keeping himself sheathed in you as he drew your knees up to your shoulders.

“I’ve been dreaming about this ass, baby.” He said as he started moving his hips again, dragging his thumb through the slick that was leaking out around his cock and moving it down until it was pressing against your pretty hole, making you gasp.

“Bucky, don’t tease me.”

“Thinking about this tight little hole wrapped around my cock, I was worried you’d never let me in.” You moaned as he pressed himself through the tight ring of muscle and your eyes rolled up into your skull as you arched yourself into him. “But here you are, giving me a fucking invitation.”

He gave a groan when both your holes clenched around him, and he felt his cock moving in your cunt with his thumb through the thin lining between your passages. He drew himself out halfway and slammed back into violently, the tip of him barely kissing your cervix and making you whine.

His fingers on your clit pressed down hard and you flew apart around him, your orgasm ripping through you with abandon. The scream you let out was otherworldly as you creamed all over his cock.

The sight of you writhing beneath him sent him over his own edge and he shouted your name as his cum spurted inside of you, coating your walls and his dick as he collapsed on top of you.

You were still trembling as aftershocks rippled through your body. He kissed your neck and pulled out of you gently. You barely noticed, you were so fucked out.

“Shit sweetheart.” He muttered as he drew himself up. “This body treats me so fucking good. Damn, look at that.” He drew your knees apart and stared appreciatively at you pussy, still clenching as you came down. His cum was slowly leaking out of you and dribbling over your puckered hole. “Let’s clean you up.”

You had expected him to go get a towel, but he knelt down and dragged his tongue over first your asshole, then your slit, making you sob as he lapped up the mixture of your releases. When he drew his tongue over your clit, you came again immediately, it was so overstimulated.

“Fuck, you ok, Y/N?” He hadn’t expected you to be that sensitive and was worried he might have overdone it. He brought himself back up to look you in the eyes, cupping one cheek in the palm of his hand as he studied your face with concern.

“God, Bucky, I’m fucking great.” You gave him a sloppy grin as you stared up at him, turning your head to press a kiss into the palm of his hand. “I don’t think I can walk though.” Your legs were jelly.

He just laughed and scooped you into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom and laying on the bed. He covered you with the sheets and pressed a soft kiss to your temple before heading into the bathroom to clean himself up. He was only gone for a minute before he was sliding behind you and wrapping you in his arms.

“Happy New Year, beautiful.” He whispered into your hair as you drifted off to sleep, drowsy now that you were surrounded with his warmth.

“Happy fucking New Year, Bucky.” You murmured before you dozed off, blissfully satisfied.

Permanent Tags:

@drabblewithfrannybarnes @starlightcrystalline @stargazingfangirl18 @buckysnumberonegirl

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #seb stan #bucky barnes smut #smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #eighteen plus

610 notes · View notes

poguesofthebau · 3 years

Text

paranoia

summary: meeting dylan einstein, a genius forensic scientist from indianapolis, musters up some unknown insecurities about your relationship with reid. however, morgan-- and reid, once he figures it out-- isn’t willing to let you think that way. warnings: mentions of bombings (as pertaining to the case)

word count: 3k pairing: spencer reid x female!bau!reader

a/n: set in season 10, episode 14, this one was requested by @koc-help! as per usual, it took me forever to write, so i hope you can forgive me for that and enjoy what i came up with!!

bombing cases were stressful. it always seemed harder for you; figuring out a motive, pushing down the overwhelming sympathy for the victims, convincing yourself that all of your team members were safe. because of your unshakable paranoia in the wake of those cases, you were already on edge by the time the team was boarding the jet to indianapolis. and, of course, spencer caught on to the way you were feeling almost immediately.

with the limited information the team had at that point, conversation about the case was reasonably brief. the file was reviewed and discussed, and hotch delegated a role for everyone to take when the jet landed. when the conversation came to a lull, you slid out of your seat, tossing the manilla folder onto the leather before moving to the back of the jet to make a cup of coffee. jj and derek’s voices were audible as they continued to spitball off of each other, masking the sound of spencer approaching where you stood. “hey,” he called to you as he neared. having been enveloped in the chatter your other friends were creating, you jumped at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. when you looked up at him, his eyebrows were raised in concern at your reaction, immediately making you recoil into yourself. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you breathed, pulling the coffee pot out of its place to pour the liquid into your empty cup. “i’m fine.”

“that’s not very convincing, you know.” you turned to face him then, sighing and internally shaking the dread away. “what is it?”

“i’m not a huge fan of bombings,” you said sarcastically. spencer scoffed a laugh at that, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as you continued with a bit more seriousness. “just a little worried. it’s nothing, spence.”

“i’m not used to seeing you worried in this way. are you sure you’re okay? i mean, do you want to talk about it?”

the soft-spoken concern in spencer’s tone along with the expression he was looking at you with warmed your heart. if there was one thing that could take your mind off of a murderous bomber, it was spencer. your eyes flickered over to the rest of the team, making sure no one was paying any attention to you and your boyfriend huddled up in the back of the jet, before you leaned up and pressed your mouth to spencer’s. the kiss was quick, but it was also just the reassurance that you both needed. “i promise, i’ll tell you if i need to talk. for now, i just want to get this son of a bitch and go back home.”

being present for the disarming of the second bomb only worsened your initial paranoia. the thought of an explosive device made you anxious enough; having to stand your ground and comfort an intended victim while a bomb was armed less than a foot from you was a whole new feeling. you trusted morgan to clip a wire without killing you, but the adrenaline in the heat of the moment was hard to shake. it had been a few hours since the scene had unfolded, but you still felt like your heart could possibly jump out of your chest at any moment the morning after the disarming. despite the underlying terror running through your veins, you were critically analyzing everything going on around you. your focus was completely dedicated to the case unfolding around you, because the sooner you cracked it, the sooner your thinly veiled fear would dissipate.

you were digging around in the bed of the pickup truck while einstein, the local forensic scientist, examined the bomb itself. out of your peripherals you saw reid and morgan approaching, but the bulk of your energy was going into analyzing the scene as best you could. your boyfriend’s eyes lingered on you for a few seconds as he neared, immediately gauging the nerves you were trying so hard to conceal. reid made a mental note to address that as soon as he could get you alone, but fought the urge to do so right then. spencer knew you well enough to know that, no matter how freaked out you currently were, your mind was concentrating on the scene before you, and anything else would simply be considered a distraction. he swallowed down the lump in his throat that formed at the thought of not being able to help you before tuning in to the comment einstein began to make. “he really went for a bigger boom this time.”

the short conversation that ensued between the two following that comment was something that shouldn’t have bothered you. you knew it meant nothing; reid wasn’t the only genius in the world who memorized excerpts from anarchy cookbooks or mathematical theories. just because some young, brilliant, beautiful girl knew the same book as spencer didn’t mean you had anything to worry about.

nonetheless, you became very worried about it.

you strolled around to the passenger side of the truck, sliding into the empty seat with a quizzical look on your face. “you know, it’s a wonder that he even realized he triggered the bomb.”

opening the driver’s side door as he spoke, reid slid into the truck next to you. “maybe he heard something when he stepped on the pedal.”

“and knew not to move? i mean, what’s this guy got, an ex-paramilitary background we don’t know about?”

the back and forth continued a few more times, and within a minute you and reid had developed the idea that allen archer, the bomb’s target, could potentially be your unsub. upon this conclusion, einstein spoke up again. “that’s what you guys do. you just talk a lot.” her voice was joking as the words left her lips, and a bright smile graced her face as she spoke. regardless of the playful tone you immediately identified, the words triggered something in you.

“well, there’s also a lot of kicking down doors involved,” morgan interjected from outside the passenger door, shaking you out of your internally-mortified state. you watched as einstein announced her departure then, mustering up a measly close-lipped smile in return to the courteous and friendly glance she offered you before leaving.

as she walked away, her words repeated in your mind. it was so simple for her to summarize; you just talk a lot. a woman so young and so intelligent had just condensed your entire career into a five-word sentence so simple that you couldn’t even disagree. was that truly all you were capable of? talking? bouncing ideas off of your coworkers’ ideas and hoping you’d end up catching the killer that way?

you spent the rest of the day arguing with yourself. in all honesty, your own inner monologue was starting to get on your nerves. despite your most sincere attempts to focus on the case in front of you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that einstein was right. and maybe she was-- maybe your job was nothing compared to hers, and maybe she was a better match for spencer than you could ever dream of being.

this new uncertainty of your career and relationship definitely didn’t help to settle your previously established fear of being blown up at any given moment.

given the circumstances, it was only a matter of time until someone on your team noticed how uneasy you were steadily growing. they knew you. you were y/n-- sometimes stubborn, oftentimes overprotective, and always capable. sure, you had off days at work, just like everyone else. you weren’t always the one to solve the case, but you were always present and attentive, engaged in the investigation with your mind and body. however, right now, your mind was in two places at once. for that reason, you weren’t surprised in the slightest when morgan approached you at the station.

as you walked toward the conference room to find hotch, you were stopped by the familiar voice calling out. “hey, hold on little lady.”

“what’s up, morgan?”

morgan shook his head at that, a knowing look crossing his features as he began to speak. “nuh-uh. what up with you, y/l/n?” you threw him a falsely quizzical look, trying (and failing) to get him off your back by playing dumb. sadly for you, morgan was too good of a profiler and friend to fall for it. “don’t play with me, girl. i know cases like this always get to you a little, but i also know how badass you are. normally you would’ve bounced back from our brush with death by now, so what’s the problem?”

you squinted at him as your face morphed into dismay. of course you couldn’t fool morgan. your mind flickered to penelope, suddenly relating to one of her more commonly made complaints: damn profilers. “my first problem is that you might know me a little too well.” derek scoffed at that, waiting for you to continue. “my second problem? well, my second problem might be that i’m not smart enough, or maybe that spencer is too good for me, or maybe that our job is too easy, or maybe--”

“woah, woah, woah. slow your roll, little missy. ‘spencer is too good for me?’ where’s that coming from?” you blinked slowly in response, not quite willing to give up any more information than you already had. “fine-- i’ll figure it out myself. let’s see: you’ve been acting weird since we got this case, but that’s not what this is about. i’ve seen you on bombing cases before, and this ain’t that. so... oh, i know. is this about a forensic scientist, maybe? maybe one who has the same name as a very smart, very famous--”

“okay, morgan. i get it. you’re a great profiler, and you know my thoughts better than i do. that doesn’t really change the way i’m feeling right now.” your tone was a little sharp, but the look in your eyes was a mixture of sadness and contempt. “and, in case you needed me to put it simply, i’m feeling like shit.”

a look of pity overtook morgan for a moment. he knew what you were going through. sure, he wasn’t dating a genius with an iq of 187, but he knew how it felt to doubt yourself, and especially how it felt to feel belittled for your work. “y/n,” he said, placing his hands on your shoulders and crouching a little to get on eye-level with you. “don’t do that to yourself, kid. don’t forget how hard what we do is, and how important it is. you save lives every day. no matter how you do it, or how much brainpower it takes, there are people all around this world who are alive because of your work. whether they admit it or not, everyone has respect for that. especially our resident pretty boy.”

“i know, morgan,” you sighed. his hands slid from your shoulders as you finally gave in, looking him straight in the eye as you spoke. “sometimes it just feels like he deserves better.”

“just because it feels that way doesn’t mean it’s true. and i can promise you, reid has never felt that way. not about you.” after giving a comforting pat on the arm to go along with his final words, morgan was walking away.

damn profilers, you thought again. why are we always right?

before you got the chance to speak with reid, the team was off again. instead of splitting up this time, you were simply spreading out; hotch and rossi were scouring the crowd of civilians and news crews at the staged ceremony for allen archer, and the rest of you were divided into two suvs with morgan and kate in one and you, jj, and spencer in the other. your talk with morgan had lifted your spirits a bit, but there was still a tightness in the air as you sat beside your seemingly clueless boyfriend.

unbeknownst to you, spencer wasn’t all that clueless. not only had he caught on to your behavior long before anyone else on the team, but he’d also spotted you and morgan’s secretive moment from across the police station. (and, yes, morgan may have whispered “check on your girl” to spencer when you weren’t paying attention. he just wanted to help.) so, while you thought he was in the dark about your current insecurities, reid was very much aware of what was going on in your head. as much as he hated it, though, he was hesitant to acknowledge it with jj in the backseat and the rest of the team on comms. so, like the considerate boyfriend he was, he waited.

it wasn’t until you got back to the police station that spencer got the chance to catch you alone. everyone else was busy preparing to leave for the jet, the bustle of having solved yet another case causing an uplifting distraction for the team. while your friends were distracted, spencer grabbed you by the hand and pulled you into a nearby empty conference room. the surprise on your face was evident when he looked at you, and he couldn’t help but smile. you laughed nervously at his expression, not completely sure what he had taken you aside for. “hi, spence. you okay?”

“i was actually going to ask you the same thing,” he admitted. “except, i already asked you that once during this case, and you weren’t very willing to share, so i was going to approach it in a more insistent way.” although you were amused by this mysterious behavior of his, you were still confused about what exactly spencer was implying that he knew. “did you really think i wouldn’t notice that you were upset?”

“no,” you said unconvincingly.

“y/n, why won’t you just talk to me?” the desperation in his voice almost shattered your heart. the whole time that you’d been in your own head, spencer had been in his. all because you were scared to talk to the one person you trusted more than anyone in the world.

“i’m sorry,” you breathed, taking a step toward him. spencer’s right hand slid around your waist once you got close enough, and your forehead dropped onto his chest as you sighed. when you looked back up to him, spencer was already anticipating eye contact. “i’m sorry i didn’t say anything. i just didn’t want to worry you, or to make you feel like you’d done anything wrong, because it’s not your fault, i just-- i don’t ever want to feel like i’m holding you back.”

“holding me back from what? you could never hold me back.”

“i could, though! you’re this amazingly brilliant genius, and there are so many people out there who are so much smarter than me, and i--”

“is that what this is about? you think you’re not smart?” you felt his hand tense from its place on your lower back, his disbelief clear in his voice.

“no, no-- i mean, i know i’m smart enough. but sometimes when we have cases like this we meet some really, really smart people, and i can’t help but wonder if you would be better off with someone on your intellectual level. someone like einstein.”

“y/n,” spencer seemed stunned at this revelation, and you realized then that morgan had been right. the idea of you not being enough had never crossed spencer’s mind. “you are the person that i’m better off with. you. i don’t-- i’ve never even thought of anyone else as a possibility since i met you. there isn’t anyone else. i mean, before i knew you, i wasn’t even sure that i believed in love at all. the only reason that i know it’s real now is because of you. i can’t think of any statistics of mathematical theories or scientific discoveries to explain or defend it, but i have always known that there isn’t anything for me aside from you. i mean that. no matter how smart anyone else is, or how cool anyone else is, or how compatible anyone else’s intellect is with mine. i love you, y/n.”

and, just like that, your fears were gone. your inner monologue went silent, and the serenity that spencer’s words brought you washed over your entire body. spencer’s arm tightened around your waist, pulling you closer into him. his free hand moved to the side of your face, brushing back your hair as he waited for you to reply. the anticipation on his face sent another rush of absolute love through you, and you quickly closed the gap between you. as your mouth met his, your hands found their way to the sides of his neck, slowly wrapping around until they were laced together behind his head. for what could’ve been an hour, you stood there, melting into spencer as his words of reassurance replaced the chants of uncertainty that had filled your head hours prior. you were forced to pull back from him eventually, but even then your hands remained around his neck and the distance between your faces was minimal as you reopened your eyes. “i love you.”

a knock on the door suddenly interrupted the moment, causing you to release each other as a third party entered the room: morgan. “hey, lovebirds,” he grinned. “nice to see that you’re back to normal. it’s time to head home.” you smiled knowingly at the man, lacing your fingers through reid’s as you followed morgan out of the room. grabbing your belongings on the way out, the three of you headed toward your designated suv, where jj was waiting patiently in the driver’s seat. “so, you finally confessed, huh?”

“of course i did,” you laughed. “no secrets in this relationship.”

“yeah, and i would’ve figured it out eventually anyway.” at spencer’s interjection, it was morgan’s turn to laugh.

“oh, yeah, 187?”

“he is a genius, you know,” you added smugly.

“well, apparently so am i, because i figured it out before he did. oh, and by the way, pretty girl, i told you.” and with that, morgan was jogging off (in a fit of giggles) to the suv, hopping in the passenger seat before you had a chance to jokingly scold him.

damn profilers.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #paranoia

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urimaginespimp · 3 years

Text

Untouchable (This Love pt 8)

Bucky x reader (elemental witch)

Set during TFATWS mainly episodes 4-5

Note: Little references on You All Over Me

Previous Part: Happiness

--------

“I’m letting you go, Bucky.”

It felt like he watched a part of himself die as soon as those words left your lips. How could he have been so late to realize that he’s in love with you? And in the worst possible time ever; When you finally look like you’re in peace and ready to open yourself once more to the world.

“I’d really like to be friends with you again someday. Maybe as you’ve said before, I will thank you.” You genuinely smiled at him and he almost wanted to yell at you to take it back. To say that you still want to be together.

But that would be so cruel of him. So he merely returned a smile, hoping that it came off genuine.

“You go alert Sam. I’m gonna try my best to stall Ayo and the other women. Though I doubt I could buy you more than a few seconds once the eighth hour rolls around.” you grinned and turned to go find where the Dora Milaje were waiting.

--------

Eight hours have passed and you were now taking the Dora Milaje to where Sam, Bucky, and Zemo would be.

Only when you were outside the door, you could hear an unfamiliar man’s voice almost threatening Sam into a fight.

“He’d die before he thinks he can hurt a friend to the throne.” Ayo commented, and before you knew it, one of them have thrown their spear before the man who you now can assume as discount Captain America could even raise a fist to Sam.

You walked in beside Ayo and based on Bucky’s expression, their business with Zemo wasn’t even close to done yet.

“Even if he is a means to your end, time’s up.” Ayo declared out loud in the room. “Release him to us now.”

“Hi. John Walker. Captain America.” The man interrupted. You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing. This didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky however, who was mentally kicking himself because now was not the time to be reminded that he knows how those felt against his. The little taste of heaven he got.

“You were like a little sister to Steve Rogers, right?” He turned his attention to you with a cheery voice. “Happy to finally meet your new big brother?” He jested.

“Sorry. That positions been long taken over ever since the potty mouth racoon started exchanging memes with me.” you retort with a shrug, which made Sam cough to hide his chuckles, and Zemo to look at you as if that was the craziest thing he’s ever heard.

“Well, let’s uh, put down the pointy sticks and we can walk this through, huh?” Walker tried to gain control over the room’s atmosphere.

“Hey, John. Take it easy.” Sam butted in. “You might wanna fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje. Or even worse, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I think I can take some water or rocks being thrown at me.” He smirked at you, making the side of your lip twitch.

“Careful, Walker, I’m almost twitching to blend that bloodstream of yours. I can control you like a puppet and I wouldn’t even have to move an inch from where I’m standing.” You smiled at him almost eerily, and Bucky was sporting a proud look on his face.

But of course, you weren’t gonna do it. You’ve long vowed to put puppeting the living off the table unless it was a life and death situation.

Walker gulped before turning once again to Ayo. “The Dora Milaje don’t have jurisdiction here.”

“The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.” You could almost see steam coming out of Ayo’s ears as she spoke. She could also feel that something didn’t feel right with this man.

Looking at his companion, you could see that unlike Walker, he was getting nervous.

“Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Walker played it off, before he layed his hand on Ayo.

Then all hell broke loose.

--------

Ayo literally disarmed Bucky. Both of you shared the same shocked expression.

Walker was catching his breath after they handed his ass to him, and was failing miserably to remove the spear that held the shield up on the table.

Ayo opened the doors to where Zemo had last gone into, only to find it empty.

One of the women took the spear off effortlessly and picked up the shield as Walker was now on the ground looking defeated.

“He is gone. Leave it.” Ayo told her.

Picking his Vibranium arm off the ground, Bucky was still trying to wrap his head around what just happened.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked, just getting up from the floor.

“Guessing from his reaction, no.” You commented as he attached it back and tested it. “Are you alright?” you approached him. His arm worked just fine. Relief flooded him.

“Yeah. How about you? You still got cuts and bruises from Madripoor.” He reaches out and holds a side of your jaw to turn your head as if to assess the minor damages on your face, causing your breath to hitch.

This was the first time he got to touch you again after all the distancing and avoiding you’ve been doing before. He smiled at you sweetly, making you confused. Sam was also giving Bucky a questioning look.

“I think I’m gonna help them look for Zemo. You guys gonna be alright?” you stepped back away from him and turned to Sam, and he nodded before giving you a hug and told you to be safe.

You gave Bucky a smile before leaving to catch up with the Dora Milaje. As soon as you were out of earshot, Sam turned to him with a smug expression.

“Have something to share, Bucky?” He asked playfully, already having a hunch why Bucky was acting all weird.

“Sam, I’m in love with her.” He replied, still staring at the direction where you just exited.

“Yeah, I figured.” he snorted in reply. It was about damn time.

“But just when it hit me, she then says she’s letting me go. Now I’m the one caught up in her.”

“Well that’s some angsty shit right there, man. Let’s grab something to eat first and talk about how your cyborg brain finally named the feelings you’ve had all this time.” Sam pats his shoulder before muttering that he was gonna need food for this discussion.

--------

You had an inkling that Zemo was heading to Sokovia. And it seemed that Bucky had the same though as he caught up on you and the Dora Milaje on your way there.

The moment you saw him, the dried blood on his face raised your concerns, and he was trying to hide the fact that he was enjoying your attention when you insisted on patching him up, and you were oblivious to the Dora Milaje’s teasing glances thrown his way, and even when one of them mouthed the word simps to him.

He made a mental note to look up what that means later.

I thought you’d be here sooner.” Zemo spoke as he got nearer. “Don’t worry, I’ve decided I’m not going to kill you.”

“Imagine my relief.” Bucky replied, clicking the gun on his side.

“The girl has been radicalized beyond salvation. I warned Sam, but he didn’t listen to me. He’s as stubborn as Steve Rogers before him. But you... they literally programmed you to kill. James, do what needs to be done. Karli has people everywhere, and there’s only one way to make sure she cannot continue her mission.” Zemo rationalized.

“I appreciate the advice. But we’re gonna do it our own way.”

Zemo chuckled softly. “Yeah. I was afraid you would say that.”

Raising the gun to his head, there was no once of fear in Zemo’s eyes, rather it looked like he was ready to be reunited with his family. This was further shown when he actually nodded at Bucky.

Only that nothing happened as he pulled the trigger. Instead, he raised his left fist, and as he opened it, the bullets fell off, clanking on the ground.

Just then, three of the Dora Milajes marched up behind him, ready to take him away this time.

“Ladies...” he acknowledged them before turning back to him. “I took the liberty of crossing my name in your book. I hold no grudges for what you thought you had to do.” Bucky nodded, appreciating the gesture.

“Parting words of advice...” Zemo spoke again, this time lower as he knew you might be somewhere nearer and might hear what he’s about to say next.

“Like every other dollar in our pockets, you can’t change where it’s been, James. Much the same goes for you. But Y/N... She loves you nonetheless. And if my eyes don’t deceive me, I’d say you feel the same but she’s doesn’t know that.” he smiles at him

“I’d only realized it myself recently.” He confesses, only then realizing that the three women were listening and now had their brows raised in surprise.

“Don’t be too late.” Zemo grinned in satisfaction of his confession.

“I’m gonna work on that, thank you.” He returned the smile.

“Goodbye, James.”

As you saw them lead Zemo to the ship, you took that as your cue to finally approach them. You’d witness the entire thing, except that it was all inaudible from where you’ve been standing.

“It would be prudent to make yourself scare in Wakanda for the time being, White Wolf.” You heard Ayo advise him as you were finally in earshot’s way.

“Fair enough.” he replies in understanding.

Ayo nodded at you as you came closer to where they were, and she shot you a teasing wink, confusing you while Bucky cleared his throat in embarrassment.

“We’ll wait for you in the ship.” she told you.

“I didn’t know you could be so theatrical, Bucky.” You grinned teasingly at him.

“Had to give you a little inkling to what was happening since you were so far away.” He gave you a boyish smile.

“You’re gonna pick those up later, right?” you gestured at the bullets still on the ground.

“Yeah, just after all of you are gone. Don’t wanna ruin the magic of that scene.” He replied scratching the back of his head, making you laugh.

"You’re going back to Wakanda with them?” Because if you are, then the universe was definitely punishing him since he can’t really go there right now as he pleases.

“Yeah, I’m long overdue for a visit.” You answered. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything to them. You’d be in their good graces again in no time.” you assured.

As you spoke, the sun was just starting to set behind you, creating a golden outline of you. The sight was making his heart pound. To him you were burning brighter than the sun.

Yep, the universe is definitely fucking me. He thought to himself.

And as you stepped closer, he felt like he was coming undone when you hesitantly pulled him in for a small hug.

“Take care of yourself, James.” you whispered.

James. She called me James. Heat was rising up in him.

Breaking off from the hug, you were blushing. “It’s alright if I call you that too, right? I mean I know I said that’s what I called 1940s you when we were testing the time portal, but it’s still you, you know, and-”

“You can call me whatever you want, sweetheart.” He cut off your rambling, smiling at you. “Just not Barnes again.” He added.

“Why?”

“Well, you were mad at me the whole time you did so.”

“Okay, dipshit.”

“Y/N.” he feigned offense.

You laughed at his expense. “I’ll let either one of you know if I’m back in New Asgard.”

“We’ll have a lot of catching up to do by then.” He smiled, and you turned to head to the ship where unbeknownst to you, the women and Zemo have been watching the two of you interacting.

“Hey Y/N?” Bucky called out to you at the last second.

“Yeah?”

He was contemplating whether he’d just tell you right then and there about his feelings. It was starting to eat him up, but then he shook it off, knowing that he and Sam still had a mission to finish first.

“I... I may have another favor to ask Wakanda.”

--------

When he got to Sam’s hometown, he saw that there was a community of people helping repair a boat. It reminded him of his time working with in the docs.

He’s now offered his services to help Sam repair their family boat. He’s also met his sister Sara, nad he was surprised that when he made an attempt to be charming, it actually kind of worked.

They were now enjoying a drink together after a day’s worth of fixing.

“Talked to Y/N, yet?” Sam asked him, taking a swing of the bottle.

“She’s a lot more friendly to me now which is both a good and bad sign for me. But I haven’t told her yet. Not really a good time.” he answered in dep thought.

“You know before we got ourselves tangled into this mess, like way before Walker happened and you decided to show up, we were in constant communication.” Sam shared.

“Yeah?” he failed to hide the jealousy in his voice, causing Sam to crack up.

“Don’t get your metal panties in a twist, man. We were mostly talking about you." he clarified. “She knew you didn’t want to see her - which I beg to differ by the way – but she was somehow hoping you would at least be talking to me.”

“I’m sorry for ignoring your calls and text.” He says to Sam, which the man assured him was fine. “There were instances at night where I couldn’t sleep and my thoughts would be plagued with her. That I wish I hadn’t been so rash with making the decision to be alone and leave her the way I did.” this was the first time he talked about it to someone. His own therapist didn’t know a thing about it.

“Let me ask you something. Where do you want to stand in her life after all of this is over?” Sam knew this wasn’t what co-workers would be talking about but he knew that this was for the good of you both.

“I want to spend the rest of my years making it up to her. To let her know that while it took me long to realize it, we were actually always in the same page.” He found himself replying with no hesitation. Sam was satisfied with this answer.

“And how are you gonna convince her to give you a chance?”

He shrugged. He didn’t know just yet.

“Tell you what. The younger people around here know their stuff when it comes to matters of the heart. I’ll have them make a manuscript you could read, or a video tutorial.” He chuckles. He had no idea Sam was being serious.

“Well...” Bucky got up and clinked their bottles together. “Gotta catch my flight tomorrow. Get a hotel for the night. Crash, you know?”

“You’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?” Sam grinned, shaking his head.

“Well I don’t wanna make it weird for your family.” He shrugged.

“Just stay here. The people in this town are the most welcoming people in the world. They don’t care if you wear small T-shirts, or if you have six toes, or if your mom’s your aunt, or that I work with a reformed cyborg that’s in love with a witch that’s practically an avatar, who apparently single-handedly secured her adoptive father’s kingdom’s economy-” Bucky chuckled at Sam’s ramblings.

“Okay, I get it. I mean, you know, the people are nice.” he concedes.

“But don’t displace your feelings for Y/n by flirting with my sister.” Sam pointed at him. “Cause if you do, I’ll have Carlos cut you up, feed half of you to the fish, and send the other half to New Asgard so they could to feed you to their fish.”

“Okay.”

--------

He was gazing up at the stars, feeling the soft grass underneath his lying figure. The comfort and peace it gave him was almost nostalgic.

“How is it possible that this place also has the best set of stars for us to look at?” A voice spoke next to him. Turning his head to where it came from, his heart fluttered as he welcomed the sight of you lying next to him, looking up the sky with such wander in your eyes.

He recognizes this scenario. He had just woken up once again from a nightmare, and couldn’t fall back asleep despite your presence. So, you proposed you’d both get some fresh air and just lay out on the field while the rest of Wakanda was fast asleep.

At first he was hesitant, not wanting to keep you up any longer, but you insisted that you haven’t been able to sleep a wink before he woke up from his nightmare. That’s how he groggily got up and took the hand you offered up to him as you lead him out of your shared hut, and into the wide field before you.

“Ayo said you’re having progress.” you turned your head to look at him. This time, he was the one stuck looking up the sky. He merely let out a small grunt as a response.

“I’m proud of you, Buck.” He could almost hear the smile from your tone. The genuineness of it all made the side of his lip twitch.

Getting up halfway to face him, you were supporting yourself up with your elbow. “We could celebrate if you want.” you suggested.

“I’m not even fully recovered yet.” he replied.

“So? Every milestone to recovery should be celebrated.” you shrugged. “C’mon old man, it doesn’t have to be grand. Any piece of treat you have in mind?”

“I’ve been meaning to try sushi.” He muttered shyly.

“Consider it done.” you beamed at him, laying back down.

There it was again. The tingly feeling he had in his stomach, which only ever occurred every time you were near. Maybe this was the feeling of gratitude. You’ve never been less than nice to him.

Yeah, that explains it. He thinks to himself.

“Why are you so fine with spending your days here anyway? Don’t you have someone waiting on you out of Wakanda? Steve said you’re more social than him.” He found himself asking.

Still looking up, you were sporting a gentle smile on your face. “I spent a great deal reading up classic romance novels when I was just learning the Midgardian ways. And I’m still in love with the whole chivalry, slow-burn romance thing. Imagine my disappointment when the first civilian man I found inherently cute outright asked me if he could have some in the bathroom.” you pursed your lips, making Bucky crack a soft laugh.

“My ma would’ve had my head if I ever said that to a lady.” he replied smiling, his eye crinkling at the thought. “...is that why you said you find me incredibly attractive?” he found himself asking, surprising both of you.

Even underneath the stars, he could see the heat rising up your cheeks. “Oh, you remember that?” you chuckled awkwardly.

“It’s not every day a girl would say that to the world’s deadliest assassin whose just been accused of a bombing incident.” he was mentally kicking himself for even opening up the topic.

“It’s Steve’s fault. He wouldn’t shut up about how charming and a gentleman you are. And it didn’t help that you’re annoyingly handsome.”

He shifted in his position. “Bet you’re disappointed now.” he said in a low voice.

“Not really.” you argued. “If anything, you’ve added the words hot and strong to the list.” you teased, poking him on the arm. He shook his head at how casual you were being.

“Sooner or later Buck, it won’t be just me crushing on you. Maybe you’d even find yourself falling for a civilian.” There was a hint of sadness behind your smiling eyes. Everybody in the kingdom knew of her allegedly having a crush on you, curtesy of Steve’s blabbering mouth, but this was the first time she actually admitted it.

He didn’t say it, but the thought of what you just said didn’t appeal to him. It felt almost wrong to imagine himself casually being open and carefree with someone else.

Carefree. This was what your conversation now felt like. You managed to somehow make him talk, far from his usual quiet and grunting self during daytime.

He opened his mouth trying to think if a reply when you cut him off.

“Don’t respond to that. You’ve already managed to make my drowsy self, confess having a crush on you.” he turned his head to look your way again, only to find that you now had your eyes closed, a small smile playing on your lips.

Letting you finally get some sleep; he turned his attention back to the sky.

And it's like the million little stars above him were spelling out your name.

Just then he wakes up from the dream, as the little whispers by the doorway caught his attention. Sam’s nephews were playing with the shield.

“Hey!” he raised his hand to greet them while still lying down on the couch.

“Put it back.” one of them said to the other. “Hurry, hurry.” and they both took off.

Alone once more, his thought went back to the dream of a memory he had with you.

He found himself smiling.

--------

Y/N: Thanks for all the love! We're one chapter away. I'm just waiting for the last episode (brb crying) to decided where we go from here.

@eternalharry @iheartsebandchris @lizzarooni @the-ayo-lit @tanyaherondale @eliwinchester-barnes @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul @ebxny27 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @fadingdreamersportsmaker

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crazy-sevens · 3 years

Text

Writing Snippet #22

Well that was fast

Part one here

***

The villain sat at the restaurant, waiting. They knew the hero well enough by now to know that she usually lost track of time. It was okay. Now the villain had time to figure out how the whole night was going to go.

The restaurant was expensive. Expensive enough to put the hero on edge. They both would talk for a while, the villain learning as much as they could about the hero, and then he would make the big reveal. He felt the detonator at his side. Just a little insurance that the hero wouldn’t cause any trouble.

The villain smiled. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face. Of course the surprise all hinged on making sure she didn’t recognize him first. He would have to be careful.

It was a decent plan. Which of course meant that it wasn’t going to go like he thought it was. He knew that as soon as the hero walked in.

She looked . . . stunning. Her red dress perfectly accented her figure and highlighted her eyes. And her face. He wouldn’t have thought she would’ve looked that . . .

He didn’t really know how to finish that thought.

And despite what he had previously thought, she looked perfectly comfortable in this setting. She was confident. Of course the villain knew that. She was confident to the point of almost being cocky. But he had assumed that was an act for him.

Obviously not.

The villain realized that his mouth was hanging open. He snapped it shut. He couldn’t get distracted. Not now. He had to make sure she didn’t find out yet. He steeled himself as she walked over to his table.

***

The hero had known it was the villain the second she had seen his picture on the website a week previously. She could hardly believe it. The villain was on a dating website. All of these fights and mind games and one accident had given away his secret identity just like that. Of course it could be a fake name, but she had a face now. She could finally put him away for good. She could’ve just found him and stormed his house, but the plan that had formed in her mind was just too good to pass up. It seemed that some of the villain’s dramatic flair was wearing off on her.

The hero would show the villain the picture pretending to have no idea they were the same person. It was pretty funny watching the villain stare in disbelief. Knowing the villain, he wouldn’t pass up this opportunity either. He would let the hero believe it was someone else, all the while manipulating her to go on a date with him.

Of course the villain could know that she knew it was him, but he always underestimated her. And she could read the villain like a book. He didn’t know that she knew. He believed that he had the upper hand.

She was waiting outside the restaurant watching him. Getting everything in place. He had already escaped from when she had thrown him in jail a couple days ago. And when she had thrown him in jail a couple weeks ago. The police weren't reliable. She had her colleagues from her hero work to help her. She considered letting them just storm the place and taking him, but she wanted to go in herself. She would be giving up her secret identity, but it didn’t matter much. He wouldn’t be bothering her anymore.

She would have to be careful. She didn’t know what kind of plan he had set up yet. But she couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when she told him that she knew.

She walked in.

***

Her eyes wondered for a bit until they fell on the villain. She broke into a wide grin and walked over. She stuck out her hand. “You must be James.”

“You must be Cassy.” Instead of shaking her hand like she probably expected, he pressed it to his lips with a soft kiss. “You look beautiful.”

She raised an eyebrow, a blush coloring her cheeks. “A little old fashioned aren’t we?”

The villain shrugged, smiling. He could tell, despite her comment, that she enjoyed it. He had never seen her like that before. It was nice.

And it proved that his plan was working. She had no idea.

***

She knew exactly what he was doing. But she was at loathe to admit that the gesture had caught her off guard. She had blushed for real.

Damn him.

Always the charmer. She was a sucker for things like that.

“You look nice too,” she said.

Despite knowing immediately it was him from the picture, she still couldn’t quite believe she was looking at the same person. He had an innocent charm about him. His eyes and crooked smile were mischievous and almost boyish. He was . . . handsome.

She wondered if he actually thought she was beautiful.

Focus.

This was all fake. That smile was fake, those entrancing eyes were fake, and that complement was fake. All a part of his mind games.

She watched as he pulled her chair out for her. She laughed, glancing around. “You know this place might be a little too fancy for me.”

“You blend right in.” She took her seat and he took his. He smiled. “Gad I wasn’t catfished.”

“Same here.”

Yup, they had both gotten what they were expecting. Even if it was all teeming with deceit.

“So,” he started. “What do you like to do for fun?”

The hero shrugged, keeping her voice light. “I like to paint, but I have a . . . demanding job.”

And whose fault is that I wonder?

***

The villain resisted the urge to laugh at the irony of that statement, shoving down a pang of guilt he felt in his stomach. “Why is your job so demanding?”

The hero shrugged again. “It’s a complicated job. Everybody seems to need me to help them.”

Her answer was very vague. But he didn’t expect anything less, knowing how dangerous for her it would be if anyone found out who she was.

More irony.

She smiled, continuing on. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“I can play the guitar.” He paused, waiting for her reaction.

She raised a brow, her eyes glittering with her trademark teasing humor. “Is that supposed to impress me.”

“I’ve heard that it impresses girls.”

She laughed. “Well it’s going to take a little bit more to impress me.”

He matched her raised eyebrow. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Can you juggle?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“No, but your reaction was pretty funny.”

They were interrupted by the waiter asking for their orders. The villain usually ate light so he didn’t order much, the hero, however, was quite the opposite.

As soon as the waiter left, the villain raised his brows at her. “You sure do eat a lot.”

***

The hero held back a laugh. It must have been a while since the villain went out with someone. “You really know how to flatter a girl, don’t you?”

The villain blushed. The hero felt a little surge of victory. Now they were even.

In actuality, the hero didn’t eat that much, but she might as well take a little advantage of her position. Call it payment for the villain always trying to kill her.

Their food came and the villain finished fairly quickly. Then after watching the hero eat all her food with wide, almost impressed, eyes, the villain sat in silence, his gaze thoughtful.

She was surprised she had let it go for this long. What was she waiting for? She felt her phone buzz at her side. It was probably her co-workers asking for the signal to move in.

What was he waiting for?

He probably had this whole speech planned, telling her it had been him all along. Was he just waiting to learn more about her? And why was every time she looked at him so disarming?

“So, besides guitar, what else do you do?” she asked.

“My job takes up most of my time too.” He gave his classic crooked smile. “We have a lot in common.”

The hero gave an uneasy chuckle. “One thing in common.”

The villain raised an incredulous eyebrow, but didn’t say anything more about it. His eyes fell on her arms.

“Where did you get those?”

Her eyes followed his gaze. Her scars.

***

The villain had hidden his. He had to. If the hero had seen that his cover would have been blown. But the hero displayed hers like a badge of honor. She didn’t hide.

But he knew this!

Why was he surprised when she was displaying traits he already knew? Maybe it was because when she was the hero those traits always annoyed him. They were always used against him. But now . . . Now it was different. Now he was starting to like appreciate those traits.

The comment had just sort of slipped out. He knew that it was impolite, but he was curious what kind of story she would make up about them.

“I’m a world renowned knife juggler.”

***

Well, it was better than the truth.

The truth that they both already knew. But if she was going to play the part she would have to lie about where she got them.

And it was the first thing she thought of.

He stared at her for a moment, then he just laughed. She fought back a smile. “What, you don’t believe me?”

His laugh died down. “I’m going to need a little proof.”

“How?”

“Why don’t you show me on our next date?”

***

He couldn’t spill the secret now. He had barely learned anything about her. No, he had to go on a couple more dates.

For leverage purposes.

He watched her eyes, searching for an answer. She hesitated for a moment, but then she broke into a wide grin. “Yeah, why not? Maybe you can play me a song too.”

***

It was probably a trick. Most likely a trick. But while he was tricking her, she would be tricking him.

Trick inception.

She needed more information. She couldn’t give up her best card now. Just a couple more dates.

Then he was going down.

Part three here

#part two #they are both so similar its hilarious #they have no clue #villain x hero #hero x villain #villain and hero #hero and villain #this was a fast one #couldn't resist #not a prompt #creative writing #writing snippet

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five-rivers · 3 years

Note

Secret Saturday prompt? Van Rook ties up and gags Zak then stuffs him into a satchel.

Zak was skilled. He was knowledgeable. He was powerful.

He was also twelve, and, despite his best efforts, not terribly tall.

As such, it wasn’t terribly difficult for Van Rook to knock him out. Now, separating him from his family and getting the drop on him? That was difficult. Whatever other cryptid abilities the kid had, enhanced senses had to be one of them. Or perhaps some form of ESP.

Anyway, one dart to the shoulder, and Zak was out. Van Rook, with skills honed over a lifetime, soon had him disarmed, securely tied, gagged, and in the bag. He put the boy’s weapons into a separate bag. He wasn’t like his ridiculous ex-apprentice, who’d leave the potentially valuable magic weapon in the bag with the magic cryptid child.

Feh.

Now. Delivery. Most amateurs would expect this to be the safe easy part. Not so. In fact delivery, particularly to first-time clients, was the most dangerous part of the job. Van Rook couldn't count the times a client tried to kill him to get out of paying for bounties or services rendered.

He couldn't suppress a smile at the memory of the last man who tried to backstab him in that particular way.

He set the plane down lightly, next to the ruins. Well, if this client didn't pay up, there were plenty of other people who would. This particular guy just happened to sit at the sweet crossroads of 'good pay' and 'no apocalypse.'

There was a faint squeak from the bag strapped into the seat next to him. He raised an eyebrow. Kid should have been asleep for another half an hour.

He might have to add resistance to drugs to the list of freaky things about the kid.

He reached over and pulled the zipper down slightly. A pair of faintly glittering amber eyes stared up at him from a flushed face. The kid tried to mutter something around the gag, but failed to produce anything intelligible. Van Rook pulled the zipper back up. This was met with a muffled shout and thrashing.

No skin off Van Rook's back if the kid decided to exhaust himself.

Calmly, he went through his post-flight check before unstrapping the bag and making his way off the small plane.

His client was already standing there, on the grass, sweating and mopping his forehead with his sleeve despite the relatively cool weather, flanked by bodyguards. His face lit up when he saw Van Rook, and even more when he saw the bag.

"You have it, then," he said, excited.

"Of course," said Van Rook.

"Well, hand it over, then," he said, reaching.

Van Rook held up his hand. His client stopped with an affronted look on his face. "First," said Van Rook. "Money. Second, I have, maybe, one, two scruples. You say you need him to control this cryptid? Show me the cryptid."

"Scruples?" said the man, taken aback. "You were advertised-"

"Yes, yes, I know, everyone thinks they want this, this man with no scruples. But they don't. They trick themselves, see? A man with no scruples... a man with no scruples, is a man who wouldn't think twice about just taking the money any way he could. You see?"

The bodyguards had their hands on their weapons. Posers. Van Rook had never taken his off.

"... and, the other scruple?"

Van Rook smiled, nastily. "What do you think? I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. You tell me to sell you a twelve year old. What am I supposed to think?"

The client had gone very red in the face. "I assure you-"

"Assure me with money. And the cryptid," said Van Rook. "Words can't buy me dinner."

"Very well, then."

The man turned and waddled into the ruins. Electric lights had been strung up to illuminate the darker areas, and there was a significant amount of digging equipment. Someone had been excavating. Most likely less than legally. Van Rook wondered how long it would take the other Saturdays to find this place and mount a rescue. Not that it mattered. The hell family would cease to be his problem as soon as he was paid and away. The client got to deal with them then.

He noted the kid had gone still. Worn himself out, maybe? Or perhaps the conversation with the client had spooked him. Kid might face off against the likes of Argost, but he was still only twelve.

They climbed down several flights of stairs that ultimately terminated in a large, only half-lit cavern. However, the ligting was good enough for Van Rook to see both the massive pile of treasure and the gnarled giant that guarded it.

"A spriggan," said the client, whispering. "All this way, and we can't make the damn thing move." Then he laughed. "There's your payment, for you," he said, waving at the treasure mound.

You know what? thought Van Rook. Screw this guy.

On the other hand, this had been hard work, and he did very much want to get paid. He had expenses.

Van Rook set the bag down and unzipped it, dodging a sloppy attempt at a kick from the kid. He had to give him credit for guts and even getting into position while tied up.

Van Rook hauled him into a sitting position. The client reached down to grab his chin. And forced him to look up.

"My, his eyes really are yellow, aren't they? Except for those, he almost looks human."

The kid growled, deep in his throat. It might have been one of the few sounds available to him around the gag, but it didn't help his case. The client laughed nervously. "Of course, the disposition... haha."

Van Rook rolled his eyes. It wasn't like the client would see behind his visor.

"Now, uh, make the monster go away."

The kid continued to glare.

"I think you'll have to be more specific."

"The spriggan. The giant. Make it leave. Make it go far away."

Still nothing. No magic spooky nonsense, no glowing eyes, no screaming cryptids, nothing.

"Let me, sir," said one of the bodyguards. He leaned down and whispered something lengthy in the kids ear, one hand gripping his shoulder. As he spoke, the kid's breath grew ragged and his skin took on a sickly cast. He tried to pull away from the bodyguard (towards Van Rook, for incomprehensible reasons), but despite the man's shortcomings in the bodyguard department, he could restrain a bound preteen who was probably still recovering from a dose of knockout drugs.

When the man let go, the kid was shaking. Although, that could easily be explained by their surroundings. He'd picked the kid up in Bermuda, and he'd been dressed for it. Now, they were in Cornwall. Much colder.

"Well? Go on, then," ordered the bodyguard.

The kid tried to say something around the gag and was promptly backhanded.

"Hey, hey," Van Rook said grabbing the bodyguard's wrist when he went in for another strike. "Let's hear what he has to say, huh?"

He untied the gag and tugged it from the kid's mouth, only allowing himself a second to be disturbed by how the cloth tore against his teeth. The boy worked his jaw up and down a few times and licked his lips before he tried to speak again.

"I can't actually do what you want me to do," he said, scowling.

The client's face turned thunderous. "Excuse me?"

"Well, to begin with, I'm out of range, and even if I wasn't, my powers are pretty limited without the Claw." He looked at Van Rook with ill-disguised hope.

"I'm not giving you your magic weapon, but nice try."

The kid's face fell back into a scowl. "Beyond that, I don't know who told you my powers were mind control, but they're not." He didn't elaborate. "I can't make that spriggan leave."

"But," said the client, hands fluttering, "magic-"

The boy pulled his lips back in a snarl, revealing too-white, too-sharp teeth. "Just because it's magic doesn't mean it doesn't have rules, idiot."

The list of things Van Rook was truly scared of was short and topped by his own empty wallet and whatever was going on with Argost. Zak Saturday didn't come close. But in ten years... Well. Van Rook would be retired by then, one way or another.

And, to be frank, the kid being stubborn right now wasn't his problem either. "So," he drawled. "I brought you the kid. Where's my money?"

The client's furious expression turned meek in a heartbeat. "Well, you can see-"

"Either pay me now, or I'm leaving with my merchandise."

"But-"

"Not my problem. Pay. Me."

"Well, I-"

Across the cavern, the giant roared something that almost sounded like language.

"He'll pay you," said the kid.

"What?" chorused the adults.

"He'll pay you. The spriggan. The spiggan will pay you, if you can get these guys to go away leave him alone. Double."

Van Rook looked at the kid, then the cryptid, then the massive pile of treasure the cryptid was sitting on. He shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

"You can't be serious!"

"I'm always very serious about getting paid."

Zak sat next to the spriggan, arms around his knees, and tried not to breathe too deeply. Van Rook had left a while ago.

"Thanks for letting me wait here with you," he said. He meant it, and the cavern really was much more pleasant once the spriggan cleaned up Van Rook's work. "Mom and Dad should pick me up any time now." He glanced at the entryway and shuddered. It wasn't like he'd never seen blood before, and it wasn't like he'd never been kidnapped before, but...

The spriggan dropped an ancient, ratty fur coat around his shoulders. He looked up with a weak smile.

"Thanks."

#the secret saturdays #ask #answer #prompt #prompt fill #slowly clearing out my drafts #this has been three paragraphs done for six months im sorry

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