#oh there’s so many hopefully word will spread—reblog for your friends?
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PJO 100 Word Drabbles (#chb100!)
hi !! so in order to keep myself writing little bits whenever i feel like it, i wanted to write little 100 word drabbles, and i wanted to invite anyone who wants to to join me as well 🫶
what i plan to do is post a prompt, then a drabble with that prompt, and anyone can respond to the prompt with their own 100 word drabble.
rules:
• try to stick to exactly 100 words—if it’s 98 or 102 or whatnot that’s fine, but if you feel you want to go ahead and write a longer fic, do so outside of the tag please :-)
• there are no rules in regards to content or ships. it can be fluffy, angsty, smutty, canon, non-canon, healthy, toxic—i don’t care, be inspired to write whatever you want :-)
• the prompts go on for as long as you want. if you see a prompt from last week or last month, feel free to do it
• please use the tag #chb100 so i can see all the wonderful drabbles !!
this first prompt is gonna be simple: Kiss
that’s it, feel free to write whatever comes to mind, and I’ll post mine in just a second ! <3
#pjo#percy jackson#valdangelo#and all the other ships hold on let me thinkkkk#jasico#valgrace#percabeth#pipabeth#oh there’s so many hopefully word will spread—reblog for your friends?#chb100
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harmless (ix)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)
Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety
Word count: 3.9k
A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like for suggesting the backstory thing!
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
Additional Scene || Previous Part || Series Masterlist
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Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.
Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer.
He’s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already.
Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.
Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message!
Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦
Decline/Accept
He wants to strangle you.
______
“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you.
“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”
He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact.
He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.
“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.
“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”
His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.
He can hear your laughter even without the phone.
“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”
He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo.
“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”
“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.
“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.
“I know, you told me.”
Oh.
“Okay, what now?”
“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge.
“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.
You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.
You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.
His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing.
It never comes.
Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards.
“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”
Just like that, the show was ruined.
He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack.
“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement.
“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?”
He stares at you.
“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”
Pepper would not like that.
“That’s not even evil.”
“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”
You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.
He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long.
Fuck, he really had only one option.
He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.
He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.
“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him.
“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.
You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”
The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.
“Hey man, I-
“No.”
“You didn’t even let me finish.”
“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.
“I need your wings.”
“I was right. Bye.”
It was a long shot anyway.
“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”
“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference.
Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath.
“Yeah.”
“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”
“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”
He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition.
“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.
“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”
“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation.
He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.
He takes a seat on the ground and waits.
“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.
“I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.
“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”
“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.
“Do you not like your team?”
“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”
“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.
He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”
Although it was appreciated.
“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it.
“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?
“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”
“Building’s dark, red is good.”
“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”
“I don’t have anything against them.”
“Then why do you do this every week?”
This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it.
“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”
“No other reason?”
“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”
“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”
“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”
“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.
“My roommate.”
“I didn’t see him when I came over.”
“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”
Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.
“He hates superheroes?”
“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips.
“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by.
“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”
“Not even a tragic backstory?”
“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”
“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.
“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”
“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion.
“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”
“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects.
You stare at him. He stares at you.
“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”
“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.
“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”
“Gorilla.”
“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”
“Where?”
“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”
“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.
“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”
“What the fuc-”
“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”
Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.”
“Raw and uncut, baby.”
“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”
“Witch.”
“Huh?”
“She was a witch who stole my hair.”
“Wha-”
He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead.
Fucking finally.
He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.
Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.
“Buck,” Sam greets him.
“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place.
A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”
“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight.
“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”
Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam.
You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming.
“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him.
“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly.
What the shit.
Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.
“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you.
“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.
This is not what Bucky wanted.
“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”
“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.
“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious.
You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment.
“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.
“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”
“Very positively.”
Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”
You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”
“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying.
“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”
“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”
“Sam just get the damn-”
“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.
“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles.
“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”
Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.”
“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.
Showoff.
“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.
“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles.
“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.
“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”
“After the ‘A’?”
“After the ‘A’,” you confirm.
“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.”
“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified.
“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”
“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”
“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground.
“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.
“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”
“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below.
“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.
Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient.
“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”
“I like red.”
As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes.
“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.
“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.
You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.
“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.”
Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.
“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand.
“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.
You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”
“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally.
Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.
“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”
Bucky rolls his eyes.
��You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly.
“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling.
“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.
“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”
“Got the motorcycle.”
“See you there.” Sam nods.
“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.
“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”
“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.
“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure.
When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”
“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”
He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.
“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.
“Yeah.”
“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.
“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”
“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”
From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business.
Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that?
“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”
“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts.
“What?”
“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”
“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.
“Just don’t.”
“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”
“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”
“What about when you’re not?”
“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all.
“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”
He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”
“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”
“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.
“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”
“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”
Adorable? Adorable?
“I hate you.”
“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”
He wants to cry.
______
By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available.
Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.
He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.
“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.
“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly.
“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?”
“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.
“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued.
Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.
“She made this?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.
“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.
“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour.
“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”
“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.”
It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.
“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.
He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb.
Tony has an idea.
And that was generally bad news.
Next part
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#mcu fic#bucky fic#bucky barnes fic#bucky fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky angst#bucky barnes angst#harmless fic#winter soldier x reader#Winter Soldier#bucky barnes#bucky
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Now that the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020 has concluded, we know that a lot of readers will have more time to catch up on some of the amazing fics they may have missed over the past two months. We encourage everyone to check out the full collection and to scroll through this masterpost of the 70 incredible fics that were posted during this year’s fest.
Please be sure to give all of these fics love - offer kudos, leave comments, reblog their fic posts on Tumblr, and retweet the fic posts on Twitter to help spread the word about these fics. The fest ending does not mean that our appreciation and reading of these fics has to end too.
Thank you for following along with this fest! We appreciate every single one of you - and we’ll see you later this year for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2021. 😊💜
Rainbow Bloom
A fic by dandelionfairies on AO3 | @dandelionfairies on Tumblr | dandelionfairi1 on Twitter
22k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Louis is in denial. Louis has been in denial for far too long. Then Harry enters his life and everything changes.
Breakable Heaven
A fic by amomentoflove on AO3 | @daggerandrose on Tumblr | dagger_rosefics on Twitter
44k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“What do you think?” Louis gets captured by Harry’s green eyes, unable to look away or even take a breath.
“I think you’re the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met.”
“You must not have met many creatures then.”
Harry’s eyes glance downward to Louis’ lips and his tongue darts out to wet his own. “None like you.”
bang bang (my baby shot me down)
A fic by thepolourryexpress on AO3 | @thepolourryexpress on Tumblr | ZOUlSBUSONE on Twitter
16k | Not Rated | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“I walked in on them having sex again,” Niall says after a beat of hesitation.
Liam still looks confused. “Why’s this different from every other time we’ve seen them having sex?” Liam asks, and oh, Harry knows Liam really doesn’t want to know the answer to this one.
Niall’s gone silent then, and Harry almost thinks they’re in the clear. Liam is back to scrolling through his phone, and Zayn is whispering something to Louis that makes the older boy giggle. They’re going to get through this car ride without a murder.
But then Niall’s covering his face with his sweatshirt, taking in a breath and on his exhale, Harry hears him mutter, “Louis was wearing knickers.”
Liam’s phone clatters to the floor of the car.
Don't You Know That I'm a Moon in Daylight?
A fic by wildholly on AO3 | @bottomlwt on Tumblr | bottomloulou on Twitter
58k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Prompt 79. Louis and Harry fell in love in the 18th century, Louis wanted Harry to convert him into a vampire, but he ended up resenting Harry for it. Fast forward to our modern days, they haven’t seen each other since then, but one day they meet again through a mutual friend. Harry was bitter for a long time, but he accepted that being angry wouldn't erase the fact that Louis was the love of his life. He wanted to court and spoil Louis like in their original time period, but Louis avoided him every time Harry tried to reconnect. Happy ending!
practice in pencil, seal it in pen
A fic by loubellies on AO3 | @loubellies on Tumblr | loubellies on Twitter
16k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Prompt 174: AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending please
or Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.
tastes like summer, smiles like may
A fic by outropeace on AO3 | @outropeace on Tumblr | outropetals on Twitter
47k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“Is this true?” Harry grabbed the beta by the shoulders. “Bryce, where did you hear that?”
“There’s rumors going around the castle,” he smirked. “stories about his beauty and his cold attitude. They know he is an omega only because of his scent, but he has never had a heat.”
“Do you know what this means?”
Bryce smirk grew into a big smile. “He can’t give you an heir.”
A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.
blinded by the sparks
A fic by wallstracktwo on AO3 | @wallstracktwo on Tumblr
22k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
"You can’t even keep your lies straight. Mike has the memory of an elephant and can remember every single detail about every single person he’s ever met, so don’t stand there and tell me that he mixed you up with someone else.” He took back Harry’s cigarette. “I saw you exchanging lower chips for higher ones. I saw you counting the cards. There is no fucking way you won seven thousand dollars tonight honestly. And so I will repeat myself — I want in. Fifty-fifty.”
Harry was completely taken aback by the stunningly attractive man standing in front of him. He made several attempts to say something — opening and closing his mouth at least twice before he was finally able to string a few words together. “What? No. No way. No. Sorry, but I work alone.”
That was the truth too — he had never trusted anyone enough to let them get close, especially when it came to his scamming, so having a partner was completely, utterly out of the question.
“Don’t you think you need someone on the…” Louis’ tongue darted out, licking his lips as his eyes flickered to Harry’s mouth, one eyebrow cocking up. “...inside.”
Or - Harry is a scammer who drifts from casino to casino. Louis is the new waiter who wants in on the scam.
somewhere in between
A fic by soldouthaz on AO3 | @soldouthaz on Tumblr | soldouthaz on Twitter
42k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Louis wakes up early. He brushes his teeth and can only stomach a piece of toast for breakfast, dressing quickly and heading for the car. He pulls into the parking lot of the Department of Dominance and Submission just as they’re unlocking the doors. It takes him all of an hour in the uncomfortable chairs to fill out the paperwork to the best and most accurate of his ability, handing it over to the receptionist as soon as he’s finished and wiping his sweaty palms on his business trousers.
There’s a high chance that within ten to fifteen business days, Louis will be matched with a dominant.
Shit.
On My Mind All The Time, Say You're Mine
A fic by Safetypinprince on AO3 | @roselouis on Tumblr | femboyIouis on Twitter
9k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“Dude, we’re inside, and it’s night time. Those don’t look as cool as you think they do.” Louis could kick himself, he sounded so stupid, but it certainly got the guy’s attention.
It was at that unfortunate moment that he noticed several other things about this hot asshole, that he hadn’t noticed just staring from afar. First, when Louis spoke to him, his gaze was kind of unfocused behind his sunglasses, and secondly, that he had a red and white cane folded up under his arm.
“I’m… Blind,” the man chuckled, awkwardly.
Louis wanted to melt into a puddle out of pure embarrassment.
“I— am so sorry. I have to go.”
“Hey, wait, wait,” the man soothed, grabbing at Louis’ shoulders before he could get away.
“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated, looking down at his shoes.
“It’s alright,” He cackled. “I get it a lot. More than you know.”
Alternatively titled: and they were roommates.
A Silent Whisper (That's Left Unsaid)
A fic by MyEnglishRose on AO3 | @lwtisloved on Tumblr | darlinlou on Twitter
50k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“So… we’re doing this?”
Louis shrugs, suddenly acting disinterested.
“Your call, Curly.”
Instead of a verbal response, Harry suddenly takes Louis’ left hand in his. The black ring seems to nag him as the fire’s light reflects its polished edges. He ignores Louis’ curious gaze as he quickly takes off one of his own rings — the rose one —, sliding it on Louis’ middle finger. It is a little large and when he lets go of his hand, Louis has to curl it into a fist so the ring doesn’t immediately fall off.
“We’ll tell them it’s a promise ring, not an actual engagement,” Harry declares, trying to ignore how warm his cheeks feel. Hopefully, it can’t be seen as he is facing away from the fireplace.
“Right… could have gotten me a fitted ring though, my Harry ten years ago was more thoughtful.”
Louis’ tone is light and teasing again. It creates a small smile on Harry’s lips.
“Someday,” he whispers before he even registers it himself.
They both ignore it.
Or. A Fake Relationship & Exes to Lovers AU ft a failed proposal ten years ago, an oblivious Harry, an overworked Louis, Zayn as the protective best friend, a meddling aunt and a lot of talks about weddings and rings.
sweet like honey
A fic by falsegoodnight on AO3 | @falsegoodnight on Tumblr | falsegoodnight on Twitter
33k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath.
It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction.
Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame.
For a while, it’s enough.
-
Or, Harry and Louis need money and they find an unconventional solution in the form of PornHub. It’s not supposed to be a big deal.
Spoonful of Sugar
A fic by zanni_scaramouche on AO3 | @zanniscaramouche on Tumblr
42k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Harry Styles.
A name better suited for a myth than a man. Like the name of the devil, people either whisper it in fear or laugh it off as fable. Cut it open and this city’s heart doesn’t bleed red. It’s snowy white, and it pulses in the tight grip of Lucifer himself.
Louis Tomlinson cares for his family above all else, a fact that’s led him on a twisted path peddling drugs to support them. Just as he’s made the decision to jump ship, Louis gets snared between the two largest crime syndicates in the city. To keep his family safe he’s forced to trust the man that failed to keep his promise two years ago, the resident drug lord he’s unknowingly been working for, Harry Styles.
Let's Break the Internet
A fic by louizsv on AO3 | @ashleyjohnsonfanaccount on Tumblr | piccadillyplum on Twitter
9k | Explicit | Louis/OMC | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“I’ll tell you what,” Sam leans forward in his chair and steeples his fingers in front of his face, “If you actually make an account and sell nudie pics and porn for more than three months, I’ll believe you.”
Louis purses his lips, ignoring the returning blush on his cheeks at the thought of having to film himself in compromising positions or taking photos of himself without any clothes on. Raising his chin defiantly, Louis accepts the challenge.
“Fine,” he agrees, “But when I win, you have to make one too.”
Lips quirked, Sam nods and holds out a hand, “Deal.”
--
Or, the one where Louis is an Only Fans baby.
in a sea of mist
A fic by tomlinvelvet on AO3 | @tomlinvelvetfics on Tumblr
126k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
A Greek Mythology/Camp Half-Blood AU where Harry is lost, the road to peace is a wretched one, and somehow, through a mist of confusion and regrets, Louis seems to be the only thing that makes sense and everything Harry needs.
Across the Grey, Salty Sea
A fic by thecheshirepussycat on AO3 | @the-cheshire-pussy-cat on Tumblr | Bee_With_Mee on Twitter
19k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Prompt 212: Alex from Dunkirk and French escort/prostitute Louis who ends up in Alex’s quarters more nights than not. Alex gives him his dog tag to wear maybe just a lot of smut and dirty talk with Louis being a pretty princess.
When Our Worlds They Fall Apart
A fic by edensrose on AO3 | @holdingthornsandroses on Tumblr | thetrashpigeon on Twitter
42k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Harry put his hand over his heart as if Louis had wounded him. “You’re so harsh, my liege! Perhaps you need to relieve some tension…” He let his voice trail off suggestively.
“The day I ask YOU to relieve tension is the day I lose all my wits and join the Imperials,” Louis said. “It will never happen.”
Written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020- Prompt 325: Star Wars AU with Harry as Han Solo and Louis as Leia.
Thank you, five.
A fic by nouies on AO3 | @nouies on Tumblr | _nouies on Twitter
5k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“Harry?” He says as soon as he recognises the other man.
“Louis? Wh-what are you doing here?” Harry asks with a frown.
“Well, I’m here for rehearsal,” Louis announces with a proud smile.
There’s a flash of confusion on Harry’s face. “What do you mean rehearsal? I got the part, you didn’t.”
~
Prompt 195: Hamilton AU
Know I Think You're Awesome, Right?
A fic by princesshalo on AO3 | @princesshalo on Tumblr | tpwkorra on Twitter
60k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“Well, that’s not very Treat People With Kindness of you.”
“Neither is approaching someone with the sole intent of criticizing a cause they’re clearly passionate about, given the amount of time they’ve dedicated to advocating for it,” Louis snaps.
“Sure, but I’m not the one with the button,” Harry shrugs.
“So, is there actually something I can help you with, or did you just come to push me into pepper spraying you as well?” Louis is quickly growing impatient. Hell, he was impatient the moment that Harry made his grand entrance on campus yesterday.
“I’m just trying to assess the environment here,” Harry says, “Because if this is all you’ve got to offer trans people who just want to be able to use the bathroom in peace like the rest of us, then I’m not sure I fit in.”
“Allow me to save you the trouble, then: you don’t.”
~
Based on the prompt: a college AU where Louis is a hippie, very good vibes activist and Harry is a punk, anarchist that always gets involved in violent protests.
show you the stars in daylight
A fic by bruisedhoney on AO3 | @yvesaintlourent on Tumblr | bruisedhoney on Twitter
13k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Louis laughed, the sound loud and borderline obnoxious. Harry winced. “Are you kidding, Haz? I wouldn’t even look twice at someone that couldn’t pick me up.”
And, well. That was new information to Harry. It’s not like Louis had ever mentioned to him that he was his type in any way, shape, or form. Harry shifted closer into the space between Louis’s legs, even more intrigued than before. “Why not?” he asked curiously, all pink lips and big curls. Louis smiled.
“Tiny, innocent, little Harold. Need someone that can pick me up, don’t I? I like being tossed around a little. You know, pinned down and made to take it. Lifted up like I’m nothing,” Louis said it all with a confident smile, his sharp little teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he locked eyes with the jock across the kitchen. “Think he might come over here. Move over. I don’t want him to think we’re together.”
Or, the one where Louis has a type and at sixteen and scrawy, it's definitely not his best friend's little brother Harry...ten years later, he changes his mind.
Freeway of Love (In a Pink Cadillac)
A fic by MsHydeStylinson on AO3 | @mizzhydes on Tumblr | MsHydeStylinson on Twitter
33k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“Did you like them?” Louis asked in a seductive tone, propping his elbow against the armrest, chin resting against his fingers.
“I’m not going to answer that,” Harry informed, lips pressed in a hard line.
“I don’t think you have to,” Louis smirked nodding slightly towards his telltale bulge and watched as Harry reddened from his neck to his forehead in a flash.
”Please, I beg you to put that phone away,” Harry pleaded with a suffering expression plastered on his face.
“Please…” Harry whined.
Or,
Louis was on his way to Miami to visit an old friend. Harry was going there for a little R&R and take in the sights and sounds. A sudden upgrade in seating brought these polar opposites together. The universe works in mysterious ways and they are unknowingly about to embark on an adventure they will surely remember for a lifetime.
Prompt 107: Sugar daddy AU inspired by this tweet: “going to sit next to the richest looking middle aged man on my flight and scroll through my nudes for three hours straight” with rich daddy Harry and bratty baby Louis.
Won't Keep You My (Dirty Little) Secret
A fic by lovelykits on AO3 | @lovelykits on Tumblr
16k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“I got asked out today,” Louis comments.
“Okay,” Harry shifts.
“Did you hear me? I said I got asked out.”
"You always get asked out.”
“Yeah well this time they didn’t believe I had a boyfriend!”
Or Louis and Harry have been together since the end of last year and somehow no one knows about it.
A Place With Skeletons
A fic by whoknows on AO3 | @crazyupsetter on Tumblr
50k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“I would choose anyone other than you,” Louis says, picking up his train of thought again. He feels a lot more cornered and defensive when they’re in Harry’s house, for some reason. It doesn’t really make sense, considering that this time, Louis was the one who couldn’t hack it any longer. He broke first. There’s something about being in Harry’s space, though, the green and earthy feeling of it. It should feel like open space with all the plants, but Louis has never felt more claustrophobic than he does when he’s here.
Harry’s chest moves against his back, a sharp intake of air. Before he can open his mouth to defend himself, Louis keeps going, “If I had a choice in any of this, I would have been saved by that elderly security guard over you. I wouldn’t mind having to have the occasional cuddle with her.”
Pretty and Pink
A fic by LarryInPanties on AO3 | @larryinpantiess on Tumblr | babielouu on Twitter
12k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Louis points a finger at the man’s pec, “I’ll have you know Harry, anyone would be lucky to have me as a hitchhiker buddy. I’m nice, I don’t take up too much space, and I’m pretty.”
He’s not lying.
“Let me get this straight,” Harry gives Louis a look when he lets out a tiny laugh. “Ya’ want to take a ride with me but you don’t even know where ya’ wanna go yet?”
-
Harry never lets anyone come on the road with him.
Then, a cute hitchhiker, Louis comes around.
Cold As Ice And Everything Nice
A fic by harriblou on AO3 | @harriblou on Tumblr | harriblou on Twitter
40k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
A young boy about Harry’s age was zoomed into the camera, blushing a bright red and breathing heavily and as he bowed. The crowd was cheering for him loudly and every movement he made was bashful and flustered. He had on a very nice skate dress that was purple. His name, hometown, skate scores, and all sorts of information was in a banner on the bottom half of the screen. He was really young, especially compared to all the other competitors, which was the second thing he noticed.
The first was that the boy was easily the prettiest in the entire world, the prettiest boy Harry’s ever seen. He felt his asthma squeeze his throat and his heart beat faster and his hands get a little more clammy.
or in which Louis is a professional ice-skater and he meets Harry, who offers to clean the ice for him.
You'll wait for me only.
A fic by signofthetmies on AO3 | @tired-eyes-lou on Tumblr
9k | Teen & Up | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Harry nips at the bondmark on Louis’ neck, Louis’ hands go to his hips, grounding him. He allows himself this, knowing that his Omega needs it too. Harry pulls back, “Go on a date with me.” He rushes out, looking at Louis’ eyes.
Louis laughs and shakes his head. “No, Louis, I’m serious. We’ve bonded for life anyway, might as well try.” Louis looks at him, “You’ve been thinking about this a lot.” Louis points out, Harry nods. “Okay.” Louis says and walks out leaving Harry. “Okay what?!”
_______________________
Prompt 15: Omega Louis is a lawyer that worked on omega rights cases. Alpha Harry is a corporate lawyer. Louis and Harry used to be childhood archenemies, until Louis moved to another school and they never saw each other again. Now, they’re both adults that happen to work in the same place. They behave like children and still share a mutual dislike. Both travel to work together for a case. One night they both bond accidentally. Slowly but surely, they fall in love. Enemies to lovers!
through the wheatfields and the coastlines
A fic by thepolourryexpress on AO3 | @thepolourryexpress on Tumblr | ZOUlSBUSONE on Twitter
53k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“You’re not from around here, are ya?” Hot Cowboy asks, tracking his little lamb with his eyes. Louis frowns slightly, having thought he was doing pretty well at not sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s not like he’s not from around here — it’s not his first summer he’s spent at his grandparents'. But he supposes that the Manhattan city lifestyle that he’s used to is always going to shine through.
“I’m visiting family for the summer,” Louis explains, cheeks a little pink. “Trying to get some work done without distractions.”
Or, alternatively, the one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.
The Boy with the Tin Chest and a Glass Heart
A fic by louloubaby92 on AO3 | @louloubabys1992 on Tumblr
18k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Alpha Harry Styles, world-renowned author of fairy-tales, is being persuaded by the Beta, Liam Payne to hire a new illustrator. Since Harry’s own illustrations are too graphic for what is supposed to be children’s stories, Liam feels the need is dire. Omega Louis does not agree with Liam since he believes that Harry’s stories are fine just the way they are. Of course this has nothing to do with Louis being totally biased or totally head over heels for Harry. It certainly has nothing to do with being jealous of the mysterious omega illustrator Liam has in mind to team Harry up with.
Seriously, it has nothing to do with that at all. Nothing, absolutely nothing, zilch, nada.
Yeah...
This Glass House
A fic by BabyPowderLou on AO3 | @compactblue on Tumblr | princessbluelou on Twitter
42k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
While deployed, Alpha Harry gets injured by an IED explosion, leaving him to deal with severe injuries in its devastating aftermath. During his road to acceptance and recovery he learns with the help of Louis and their children just how important family can be for the mind, body, and soul.
singing your praises
A fic by loubellies on AO3 | @loubellies on Tumblr | loubellies on Twitter
6k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Prompt 86: Louis rides Harry while wearing his packer’s jersey/sweater and gets his ass ate.
made for lovin' you
A fic by cuddlerlouis on AO3 | @cuddlerlouis on Tumblr | burntromances on Twitter
52k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“I’m in,” is all Louis receives. He blinks a few times, making sure he’s reading this right.
“For real?” he asks, just to be a hundred percent sure.
“Yes,” pops up. “How do you wanna pursue?” The alpha adds, like he’s on a special mission or something.
“I’m gonna call us a cab to go to mine. Once I know it’s here, I’ll leave and join you there,” Louis explains. “I’ll text you to go around five minutes before it arrives, so it doesn’t look suspicious, and our friends don’t notice us leaving together.”
“Noted.”
So Louis does, and ten minutes later, he’s sat in the backseat of a cab, next to Harry Styles, the person he hates the most but unfortunately still finds attractive. They’re on their way to fuck in Louis’ flat.
Splendid.
-
Or the one where a quick, horny decision ruins Louis’ summer plans, but may also lead to unexpected discoveries. Featuring the road trip of dreams, misunderstandings, and a bit of fate.
Stuck On You
A fic by WritewhatIwant on AO3
34k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Louis’ life revolves around his stickers. Harry’s life revolves around his job. The universe has decided their worlds should revolve around each other.
On the Edge
A fic by zanni_scaramouche on AO3 | @zanniscaramouche on Tumblr
47k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Figure skating is as vital to Louis’ identity as his DNA, so when his skates go missing right before the last Olympics of his career there may be a meltdown only vanilla bath salts can fix. Well, that and the stupidly charming hockey player he met on the plane.
Harry’s too old to be the wonder kid and too young to be taken seriously in the NHL. As an alternate thrown in at the last second, he fights to prove himself on the national team at the largest sporting event known to man. Or he will, once he gets off this flight and can focus on something other than the fussy figure skater and his stunningly blue eyes.
A baggage mix-up skews both of their perfectly laid plans for gold, forcing the two to work together as the clock clicks towards the minute they’re expected to shine on centre ice.
Be a Good Girl For Me
A fic by wannabebestseller on AO3 | @sincetheywere16and18 on Tumblr
9k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Based on this prompt: “AU where Harry is Louis’ older brother’s best friend. He catches Louis dancing around his room in panties and blackmails him, saying that Louis has to do anything he says or else he’ll tell Louis’ family that he wears girly underwear. Secretly soft for him, Harry gives him easy tasks and uses the whole thing to spend more time with Louis. Eventually, the orders begin to escalate and Harry teases Lou about his secret, making Louis shy and embarrassed. Louis loves the attention though, and forms a crush on his brother’s best friend. Lots of feminization, secret relationship, and enemies to lovers. Thank you!”
dripping like spider milk
A fic by raspberryoats on AO3 | @raspberryoatss on Tumblr | raspberryoatss on Twitter
64k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
When he sees the alpha, his brown hair curling around the top of his neck and his broad back that’s filled out over the past couple of years, Louis freezes for a moment. The alpha turns around, Louis’ surprised expression mirrored on his own for a fraction of a second before he schools it into a big, yet shy grin and a wave of his huge hand. With his nostrils flared, Louis knows that he can smell him, too.
They never hired alphas, except for—
“Harry.”
or prompt 110: Louis is a retired porn star and he gets invited back to test a new line of sex products the company he worked for is releasing (would include photoshoots and videos of Louis sampling certain toys). Harry is there to photograph, film, and intimately help him along the way (preferably in a private setting).
But It's Useless
A fic by thinlines on AO3 | @thinlinez on Tumblr
26k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“Hey.”
Louis was even hallucinating now. He closed his eyes.
“Hey, you.”
He chuckled wetly, head still leaning against the door.
“Can you get out of the way? You're blocking the door.”
He exhaled sharply before slowly turning around. His eyes fixed onto muddy Nike trainers before it traveled up to impossibly short jogging shorts. The yellow color was atrocious, simply ghastly.
“What happened to being polite, Harold?”
OR Omega Louis would never guess that he would be trying to hack into Alpha Harry's Wifi. That is until everything changes when he tries to get to know his enemy.
Yours To Lose
A fic by loulicate on AO3 | loulicaterecs on Twitter
26k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“I think I know the person that matches your descriptions of your dream alpha.”
“Who? And oh not my dream alpha, god you’re making me sound like a teenage school girl. I’m a mum, H.” They laugh as they watch kids gather in front of the verandah, getting ready to go back to the orphanage.
“Well, you’re gonna have to find out.” Harry winks before standing up to start cleaning their spot.
-
Or Louis always gets distracted with his mummy duty and he eventually catches Harry's attention.
Sweet Scary Creatures
A fic by Specklesock on AO3 | @specklelouis on Tumblr | specklelouiie on Twitter
13k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
They stare into each other's eyes for a while until Louis remembers this is too intimate and looks at Harry’s hands on his thigh. It spans a big portion of his thigh and Louis has always been insecure about how thick he is, so he loves that Harry has huge, dustbin hands that hold him and makes him feel smaller, safer.
We Are But Dust and Shadows
A fic by louisbarnes on AO3 | @tomlinsonbarnes on Tumblr | dreamersdiving on Twitter
51k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“Um, okay. I’m going to…” Harry gestured over his shoulder and gave the two of them an awkward smile.
“Wait! You got a letter.” Zayn held out the letter and Harry’s face dropped. He took the letter from Zayn, gaze locked on it like it was a bomb ready to explode. “What is it?”
“Probably just from the New York Institute,” Harry muttered. He hurried away, ripping the envelope open as he went.
“Remember when you said you didn’t want to fuck him?” Zayn broke the silence and Louis scoffed.
“Quite clearly, actually.”
Zayn grinned. “Your eye twitches when you lie.”
“Fuck off.”
Or: Louis is part of a well respected Shadowhunter family, and Harry is the Mundane turned Shadowhunter who just can’t seem to get it right.
it's hard to fight naked
A fic by bluestarwitch on AO3 | @loustarlight on Tumblr | IwtstarIight on Twitter
11k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Prompt 6: Louis and Harry are roommates, but they cannot stand each other. When Harry heard Louis moan his name while Louis was riding a dildo in Harry’s room (Louis thought he was alone at home), Harry couldn’t stop himself and so he ended up fucking Louis against the mattress. Happy ending!
or where Louis leaves dirty socks on the couch, Zayn does assignments while he's high, and Harry is hopelessly crushing on his roommate.
social cues
A fic by outropeace on AO3 | @outropeace on Tumblr | outropetals on Twitter
56k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
To Harry, Louis was becoming as tangible and essential as music in his life. He still was a mystery but at the same time, he was one of the most real things Harry had. He just hoped he could live up to the image Louis probably had in his mind of him.
He could play the part, after all, what was published of him wasn’t as detached from reality. He didn’t think of himself as a rockstar cliche, although he couldn't deny he did sleep around, partied a lot, and did some drugs. But then again, wasn’t that what the majority of his friends back in his hometown were doing at college?
Harry wanted to impress Louis, he didn’t want to disappoint or leave his expectations unfulfilled, so he’d give him the full rockstar experience.
It was a very simple plan, what could possibly go wrong?
hereafter
A fic by larryent on AO3 | @larryent on Tumblr | oflarryent on Twitter
13k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
"A legacy is every life you’ve touched. And you’ve touched mine twice."
On the coast of San Franciso in 2024 is when Harry falls in love all over again.
OR
“This thing upon me is not death
but it’s as real,
....
this thing upon me
like a flower a feast,
believe me
is not death and is not glory.”
— Charles Bukowski, old man, dead in a room
smoke between your teeth
A fic by soldouthaz on AO3 | @soldouthaz on Tumblr | soldouthaz on Twitter
37k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“Alright, fine. What is it, then?" Louis asks. "Give me the best you’ve got. What’s this big reason why I smoke?"
Harry’s head lolls backward on the back of the sofa, a dopey grin on his face even though his eyes are already halfway closed - that look he gives Louis when he’s about to spout some incoherent bout of psychological bullshit.
“Oral fixation,” Harry mutters as delightfully as he can muster, his tone suggesting that it should be obvious.
--
Louis tries to stop his addiction to cigarettes and discovers he's been addicted to Harry for much, much longer.
calm me down (before i sleep)
A fic by leeanndarling on AO3 | @erodiansunflower on Tumblr | leeann_darling on Twitter
6k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Prompt 24: Harry is a sex shop owner that has a crush on Louis, the shy customer who flirts with him while buying cute buttplugs, lace panties, and collars. One day, Louis asked Harry to help him put on a corset (they end up fucking in the dressing room). Things escalate quickly from there, so they start seeing each other seriously while trying other sex stuff.
This World’s Ashes
A fic by sunshineandthemoonlight on AO3 | @sunshineandthemoonlight on Tumblr
34k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
The man stares at him, and all Harry can hear is his own heartbeat, racing.
Then the stranger turns away. He walks a few paces and bends down, picking up a large knife from the ground and shoving it into a pouch attached to his belt.
“I won’t hurt you, you know.”
Harry’s eyes snap up to the man’s face. He’s looking at Harry sincerely, palms held up as though in surrender. There’s still a knife in his right hand, though, so Harry is only slightly reassured.
Harry swallows to combat the dryness of his throat, and then says, “I won’t hurt you either.”
A post-apocalypse AU where Harry, battling his past as he survives in the woods, has learnt not to trust anyone except his dog. Then Louis crashes into his life, with his bright spirit and soft lips, pulling Harry from the depths of a loneliness he hadn’t realised he was drowning in. But there is danger lurking, and Harry’s not the only one wrestling with his past.
A Springtime's Wilt, an Autumn's Bloom
A fic by snowcaplou on AO3 | snowcaplou on Twitter
20k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“What about you Harry? Maybe you should apply for the position,” she teases.
“Oi! You better not be trying to get rid of my best driver-- I can’t go looking for a replacement, I’m too busy!” Louis says with a playful slap to Savannah’s shoulder. It's jestful, like the rest of their conversation, but there is a possessive bite to his words-- my best driver-- the words bounce through Harry’s ears until he can just hear the words my and mine. It falls deaf on Savannah’s beta senses, but for a minute Harry thinks he can sense the same words zooming through Louis’ thoughts.
My, mine.
My alpha.
And woah, Harry’s taking it too far. At least, he thinks he’s taking it too far, but when he looks back up from his plate, Louis’ eyes are heavy on his, and for a fleeting second, Harry can pretend he heard Louis say it.
OR
Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.
Starlight’s Crossing
A fic by smittenwithlouis on AO3 | @smittenwithlouis on Tumblr | smittenwlouis on Twitter
30k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
He can picture it so clearly, as he holds onto Louis’ sleeping body. How they’d go exploring every inch of the galaxy without a care in the world. He builds a fairytale future in his mind, one that includes marriage, kids, and growing old together. Even after such a short time together, Harry knows that he’d say yes to anything and everything this man ever asked for. He’d follow him to the ends of the galaxy if that’s what Louis wanted.
And that thought terrifies Harry.
Or: All it takes is one night for Harry and Louis' life to change forever. Fast-forward four years, and they embark on an adventure of a lifetime across the universe.
Floating
A fic by littleLouve on AO3 | @larents on Tumblr | louvees on Twitter
10k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
The one where Louis has control over water in every form but he doesn't know what to do with it. Harry is here to guide him.
don't want no other shade of blue
A fic by padfootyoudog on AO3 | @louisisworthit on Tumblr
43k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“I know you’re putting on an act,” says Harry after a moment, and Louis scowls when he realises the prince is actually amused.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Louis.
“All I’ve heard over the past couple of years are rumours of Prince Louis’ kindness, and generosity, and oh, he’s so handsome I can barely pour his tea without shaking!” says Harry, putting on a silly, high-pitched voice for the last bit. Louis’ scowl deepens. “I would already know if you were just another selfish, bratty omega prince. You can’t fool me, darling, but I admire your efforts.”
“As you said,” Louis grits out, “those are only rumours. I assure you, I’m a terrible person.”
—
prompt 339: it was foretold that Alpha Prince Harry would be mated to a beautiful male omega with eyes that could rival the stone amethyst, but Omega Prince Louis refuses to believe it.
Loving You's the Antidote
A fic by neverheartbroken on AO3 | @neverheartbroken on Tumblr
5k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Prompt 302: Alpha Harry & Omega Louis are divorced but still spend each other’s heat/rut together because they only really trust each other but things get complicated when Louis (or Harry, author’s choice) spend it with someone else. Cue angst with a happy ending. (Prompt Inspiration: Prompt 98 from the 2019 BLFF)
dirty laundry looks good on you
A fic by tomlinvelvet on AO3 | @tomlinvelvetfics on Tumblr
50k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).
OR; the utility room is a great place to fall in love.
no good unless it's real
A fic by fackinglouis on AO3 | @fackinglouis on Tumblr
17k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“Here,” Harry says, pulling a strap off his shoulder so he can dig his phone out of his bag. “We can get each other’s numbers.”
Louis shakes his head. “I have the practice’s number already,” he tells him. “And my number is definitely on file somewhere.”
Harry pauses, smile quirking a bit as he stares at Louis. The sun is still in his eyes, though, with his sunglasses pushed up onto his head still, so Louis credits his funny face to that.
“I’m trying to give you my number, Louis,” Harry explains around a breathy laugh.
“Oh,” Louis blinks, processing that. He scratches his temple, moves a piece of longer fringe back behind his ear, and then nods. “Okay.”
Or: Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.
Since the Future
A fic by bluestarwitch on AO3 | @loustarlight on Tumblr | IwtstarIight on Twitter
49k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
"It's done."
The words were barely above a whisper when they left Harry's mouth, but they hit Louis with the force of a freight train. It was done. Holy fuck. They had created a time machine. And tomorrow, they were travelling to the future.
To Love without Reason
A fic by MuggleMirror on AO3 | @mugglemirror on Tumblr | mugglemirror on Twitter
8k | Not Rated | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.
Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.
“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”
Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.
Sedative Duty.
A fic by daddyharrie on AO3 | @daddyharrie on Tumblr | daddyharrie on Twitter
46k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Pop-star of the moment Louis Tomlinson is on his third-world tour. He decides to hire renowned professional dominant Harry Styles to unwind while on the road. In an effort not to raise suspicion by the crew, fans, and press, Harry pretends to be his bodyguard. He ends up being far more than that.
You and I 'till the day we die
A fic by Allmylovelarrie on AO3 | flightlesslarri on Twitter
10k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Prompt 124: A fic inspired by Groupie Love by Lana Del Rey, where Harry is a Rockstar and Louis is his cute little boyfriend who tries to hide himself in the middle of the crowd. (Preferably set in the 80s)
Give So Much (Not Enough)
A fic by skinsuk on AO3 | @wifeylouis on Tumblr
24k | Mature | Louis/Harry, Louis/Alex, Harry/Tess | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“For my little lion,” Louis slid the smoothie bowl in front of Oscar, letting him dig in with his little hands. “And for daddy.”
He didn’t process the bowl in front of him, the push across the table causing a raspberry to roll off and fall on his lap, because Louis calling himself mummy may make him feel all sorts of mushy emotions, but Louis addressing Harry as daddy was suddenly having a very different effect on him. Since when did Louis saying daddy out loud render him speechless?
“Daddy’s still sleepy, but we’re up bright and early right Ossie?” Louis’ cooing shook him out of his daze. The man coughed, picking the raspberry off his lap and swallowing it with unintentional, and very unnecessary, eye contact with Louis. “Well, is it better than your protein smoothies and why?”
Harry chuckled, spooning another heap of the strawberry banana goodness into his mouth, “Way better sweetheart.”
A friends to lovers au with tons of mama Louis and domesticity.
New York's Beauty
A fic by nocontrol_lou on AO3 | @saxophone17 on Tumblr | nocontrol_louis on Twitter
5k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Prompt 104: AU where Harry is an alpha wolf and Louis is a hybrid kitten. They were roommates. While they were arguing about something stupid, Harry wanted to bend Louis over the kitchen table and knot him right there. He slowly accepted his feelings and extreme desire for Louis, so he started to tease the hybrid until he would beg Harry to fuck him. They fall in love. Louis needs to feel comfortable with the camera so Harry fucks him until he is blushing and calm and gentle.
feeling borrowed, always blue
A fic by falsegoodnight on AO3 | @falsegoodnight on Tumblr | falsegoodnight on Twitter
67k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Louis’ own heartbeat picks up, eyes widening right as Dr. Zoyansky hits a button and the unsteady pattern of thumps echoes into the room. His breathing hitches, eyes watering as the rhythm seeps into his insides and reverberates in his mind. A heartbeat.
He doesn’t register the tears at first, eyes fixed to the screen and vision blurring.
The situation seems insane. Here he is, twenty-four years old, sitting in the examination chair and listening to the heartbeat of his future child, clutching the worn material of his changing gown with pale fingers, one of which is weighed down by a gaudy engagement ring.
And most noticeably - he’s entirely alone. It’s just him in the room with his doctor, experiencing one of the most groundbreaking, life-changing moments of his entire life and he’s all alone.
-
Or, Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected that it was going to happen like this.
Hamartia
A fic by tomlinvelvet on AO3 | @tomlinvelvetfics on Tumblr
66k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Eight years is a long time for Louis to mend his heart back and erase every lingering, stubborn memory of his ex-lover, Harry Styles. But when news of the war being over spreads across the world like wildfire, and he stumbles upon the alpha he vowed himself to never see ever again, he realises that not even a lifetime will be enough for him to pick up the scattered, broken parts of his soul. He's far from expecting the alpha he loved to struggle the same way.
All the ointments in the world might never soothe the pain out, but it doesn't take long for both of them to come to the conclusion that, maybe, the only medicine to their heartbreaks are what caused them in the first place.
moonlit sky over gentle waters
A fic by stardustx on AO3 | stardxstlwt on Twitter
11k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
"The King of the Pirates! Captain Harry Styles! The one who conquered the seven seas!" Louis boasts, sarcasm drips from his tone, mocking him.
The bar is clean, but he still scrubs just as fervently, his brows furrows and a small pout forms on those pink lips Harry desperately wants to kiss. He looks down, dubiously, at the address in his hand.
“Every lass and lad dreams of bedding a pirate like you.” Louis huffs, gazes up at him with a despondant look that reminds him of a grumpy kitten.
Silence fills the space as Harry mulls over his words. He finally looks up at Louis, blinking slowly. “Do they really?”
"You're an idiot."
-
OR Harry left his hometown to sail the seven seas and returns seven years later, yearning for something — or rather, someone — that he isn't sure he can have.
Short and Sweet
A fic by 5ft9 on AO3 | cinnamouroll on Twitter
29k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Louis is a shy university student in a world scarce of male omegas. He's always dreamt of having an alpha despite his sheltered upbringing, fantasizing about being loved and cared for. He's immediately smitten by the mysterious alpha with curly hair, broad shoulders, and the addictive coffee scent.
under thorn and bramble
A fic by thedeathchamber on AO3 | @louehvolution on Tumblr
32k | Explicit | Louis/OMC | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Prompt 445: A historical AU where Louis is working as a servant on a farm. The family that owns the farm is exceedingly cruel to him and he is often exhausted and in pain from his work. A mysterious stranger boards at the farm and is very intrigued by Louis, but Louis doubts his interest in genuine. Any pairing fine.
Late night devil put your hands on me (and never, never, never ever let go)
A fic by summerandsunshine on AO3 | sunshine_Iou on Twitter
12k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Harry is a demon that feeds off of people’s nightmares. He finds his next meal in Louis’ dreams where he changes and molds them to become scary nightmares. Soon harry learns Louis is a lucid dreamer- he can act on his own in his dreams. They interact in the real world and have sex in the dream world. when Louis catches feelings the devil, Harry promises to come back to earth once and for all.
No Easy Choice, But You’re Mine
A fic by alltheselights on AO3 | @alltheselights on Tumblr | alltheselightts on Twitter
45k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Louis’ feet pound on the pavement as he runs, and the echo reverberates through the alley behind him. He drops the gun near a trash bin as he passes, his gloved fingers ensuring that it will never be traced back to him.
He’s panting, his thighs ache, and there’s a cramp forming beneath his ribs on the right side, but all of that is nothing compared to the exhaustion clouding his brain.
I can’t do this anymore, Louis thinks.
Or: Louis is an omega hitman with one last job that goes a little sideways. Harry is the alpha bartender that looks a little too closely and cares a little too much.
Joker Is Wild
A fic by Typosmyown on AO3 | @palosquared on Tumblr
19k | Explicit | Louis/Harry, Louis/Various | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Prompt 390: A reality show AU where Louis, Harry, Liam, Zayn and Niall are selected to stay at confined in a luxury mansion for 1 month, where they are required to have explicit, graphic sex at all times, like a porn Big Brother kind of show. Every week there are several different sexual tasks and trials that they must overcome together, which all ends in orgasms for all of them. When the boys all discover Louis is strictly a bottom, and a slutty one at that, they all can’t wait to get their hands on him. Bonus if other hot celebs are there too, like Shawn Mendes, for example. Includes lots of hard gay sex, rimming, blowjobs, gang bangs, ass worshipping (Louis ass, of course) and double penetration.
The Pirate and The Piper
A fic by jacaranda_bloom on AO3 | @jacaranda-bloom on Tumblr | jacaranda_bloom on Twitter
38k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
Banished from Neverland by Captain Hook and the evil Siren Minerva, Louis is forced to live in the Other World. He makes a life for himself, resigned to the fact he’s never going to see his beloved home and Lost Boys again. Five years later he’s kidnapped and returned to Neverland, only to discover a far worse fate awaits him. But with an unlikely ally by his side, can he overcome those who seek his demise and restore freedom to his homeland?
Or the one where Harry is Hook, Louis is Pan, and nothing is what it seems.
Coeur de Pirate
A fic by louizsv on AO3 | @ashleyjohnsonfanaccount on Tumblr | piccadillyplum on Twitter
34k | Explicit | Louis/Harry, Louis/OMC, Louis/Harry/OMC | Tumblr post | Twitter post
He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.
Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”
if you're feeling lonely
A fic by ifthat on AO3 | @lovehl on Tumblr | omegalouis on Twitter
12k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
The guest list is on the desk. Louis runs through it and stops a third of the way down when a familiar name catches his breath.
Harry Styles.
All he has to do is verify whether Harry Styles is the same Alpha whose scent beckoned him closer.
it's a game we play in the sheets
A fic by loubabyworship on AO3 | @strawbabyloucake on Tumblr | pillouprincess on Twitter
9k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
“Louis is… He’s a boy I’ve been talking to.” He bit his lip, grin evident. “After I watched one of his videos during a Harry Reacts a few weeks ago I messaged him and…”
His sentence was cut short by the sound of a timid little “Hi” being whispered into his ears.
Harry closed his eyes for a second, pausing to take in the online presence of the real-life fairy, before he opened them and smiled. “Hey Lou. Ready to play with me?”
Mind Over Matter (You Under Me)
A fic by youreyesonlarry on AO3 | @youreyesonlarry on Tumblr | youreyesonlarry on Twitter
73k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post
It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day.
--------
Prompt 21: Harry stopped playing hockey (after 10 years of a professional career) because of a severe injury. The dream he worked so hard for vanished in the blink of an eye. His family insisted that he had to go to physical therapy, even if it only helped his health. Cue to personal assistant Louis, the most efficient and kind PA one could hire.
--
View the 2020 BLFF collection here.
View the 2019 BLFF collection here.
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Feisty
Pairing: Racetrack Higgins x Reader
Request: “race or spot x feisty reader/oc + prompt #84 (sarcasm) from list 2 could be really fun! if it's not a bother, tysm ���”
Prompt: “I can’t date him! He hates sarcasm! That’s like my second language!”
Word Count: Approx. 1.7k
~~~
“Wait up,” Race called as you ran down the steps of the newsies boarding house. Although you felt bad, you didn’t stop. You had barely had time to get dressed before you heard the morning bell. The papes were already being sold and you had just left the house. Race being late was his own problem, not yours.
As you finally reached the distribution center for the papers you sighed with relief. Fortunately for you, they hadn’t completely sold out. However, that meant the headline wasn’t an easy seller, so you’d be in for a long day. Race caught up with you at the selling window.
“Hey, why didn’t’ya wait up?” he asked.
“Because it’d be great if we were both late,” you said, rolling your eyes.
He looked confused for a moment and then sighed with exasperation. “Oh, youse is bein’ sarcastic again. You know I hate when you do that.”
“Sorry Race,” you laughed. “But you know I can’t be late. ‘M already almost behind on my payments for the lodging.”
Race nodded in understanding. It was the same story for a lot of newsies, not being able to scrape together the money for lodging and then being out on the streets. “Why don’t we’s sell together today? I already has enough for my rent this month, so you can take some of my extra papes.”
You didn’t want to accept help from anybody, least of all Race. Part of you was worried he would resent you if you held him back, and for some reason that terrified you. “Are ya’ sure? I’ll be fine on my own as always, really.”
He shook his head, “Just because youse is ‘fine’ doesn’t mean that you should have to be all alone.”
Looking down, you nodded in appreciation. “Thank you, Race.” You prayed to whoever was listening that he didn’t notice the blush spreading across your cheeks. “We’d best buy some papes and start selling then, huh?”
You handed your money to Weasel, who was standing at the window counting the day’s profit. “I’ll take 50 papes, as usual.”
“Are you sure you can sell that many?” Oscar Delancey taunted. “It’s not a great headline, and you ain’t exactly the top seller anyways.”
Race shot him a glare but you already had a scathing response prepared. “Oscar, I know it’s difficult for youse to understand, but sales ain’t based wholly on the headline. Stunning good looks also factor in, which must explain why you and your brother never made it as newsies.”
“You’d better watch it,” Oscar threatened, balling his hand into a fist. He narrowed his eyes and you could tell he was getting irritated.
As soon as Race bought his papers you were off. Although you weren’t opposed to punching a Delancey, you would hate to get all mussed up. After all, you had to at least look a little bit respectable, that way you could sell in the wealthier areas without attracting any trouble.
You turned to Race with a grin, “So, where to first?”
He shook his head, “Youse is gonna get in trouble for talking back one of these days, you’re too feisty for your own good. But I found a great selling spot in upper Manhattan. People there give great tips too.”
“Perfect,” you said with a light laugh. “And I thinks I can take care of myself, thank you very much. Those Delanceys won’t even know what hit ‘em.”
Race simply rolled his eyes in response. “I certainly hope so,” he laughed. “Let’s head out before everyone in this city already has a pape.”
It was a fairly quick walk, but the brisk morning air made it seem longer than it was. Race looked over at you, noting that you had been strangely silent for most of the trip. When he saw you silently shivering he smiled to himself. Of course you were too proud to even mention it.
“Are you alright?” he asked. He already knew what your answer would be, but he decided to ask anyway. At least then it would seem like he hadn’t already made up his mind on what he was about to do.
Just like he predicted, you answered with a simple, “Yes, why?” However a visible shiver passed over you as you answered, giving away your lie.
“Because you seem cold,” he said, trying his best to sound exasperated and not concerned. He knew if he seemed worried you’d refuse his offer, not wanting to seem weak. “Here, take my coat, I don’t need it.”
“Race, no,” you shook your head. “You do need it.”
“Not as much as you do,” he countered. Despite your protests he shrugged off his jacket and placed it around your shoulders. “Don’t even try to give it back ‘til we’s done selling.”
You sighed and nodded, “Fine.” To be honest, it really helped against the chill. Although you knew Race didn’t need it as much, it still pained you to take it from him. There was no way he would take it back, though. He could be as stubborn as you when he wanted to be.
When you finally reached the neighborhood you breathed a sigh of relief. There were no other newsies in sight, which meant you were probably the first ones there. Or, you thought, the others had already sold everyone a paper and you wouldn’t make any sales. Hopefully it wasn’t the latter.
Once you began calling out headlines, both real and slightly made-up, you realized your initial impression was correct. Your papers sold fairly quickly and you received a few nice tips too. The whole time you weren’t selling you spent talking to Race about anything and everything.
Before you knew it the day was winding to a close and you had sold all your papes. Night was falling quickly and you had to hurry back to the lodging house. There was hardly any light on the streets and you became turned around.
As you tried to navigate on the darkened street you realized you had become separated from Race. You called out to him, “Race? Where are you?” Someone grabbed your hand and you jumped. Your heartbeat calmed, however, when you saw it was just him. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” you scolded, “I could’ve had a heart attack.”
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I was jus’ worried ‘cause it’s easy to get lost here. Since I know the way I thought this’d be a safer way of heading back.” He motioned to his hand, still linked with yours. You nodded silently, thankful he wouldn’t notice your blush in the dark.
The trip back to the lodging house seemed to drag on for eternity as your heart raced in your chest. While you had always considered Race a friend, you had secretly wondered if there was any chance of something more. After the day’s events you realized how much you wanted the chance to be real.
When you finally returned to the lodging house you quickly said goodnight to Race before rushing to your room. On the way, however, you were stopped by Jack, who was looking at you confusedly.
“Are you wearing Racetrack’s jacket?” he asked you.
Shit. You had entirely forgotten to give it back in your haste to get to your room. “Oh, yeah, he lent it to me for sellin’ today. It was chilly so…” you trailed off, praying Jack wouldn’t ask anymore questions. While he had always been like an older brother to you that also meant he teased you like an older brother would. Which, unfortunately, included joking with you when he thought you liked someone.
Somehow Jack had figured out that you had a tiny crush on Race and was determined to set you two up, and tonight was no exception. “Well I didn’t know youse was sellin’ together,” he said with a smirk.
You answered quickly, “It was just for today, no big deal.”
“Well, if youse ever does get together don’t say I didn’t call it.”
Rolling your eyes, you began to grow defensive, “I can’t date him! He hates sarcasm! That’s like my second language!” Even as you said it you knew it was a bad excuse.
Jack chuckled lightly, “Sounds like something someone makin’ up excuses would say.” Damn it, he knew you too well. “Maybe you should go give him his jacket back and, I dunno, talk to him a bit.”
He was right as always. There was no way you could keep living like this, you had to confront how you felt, which meant confessing to Race. “I think I will,” you said softly. “G’night Kelly.”
You slowly made your way to the front of the lodging house. Somehow you knew Race hadn’t gone to bed yet. When you stepped out into the cold night air, you knew you were right. The faint smell of cigar smoke wafted up the steps from where Race was sitting.
“Hey Race,” you said quietly. “I realized I never gave you your coat back and,” you shrugged, holding it out to him.
He took it silently and you sat down next to him. “Thank you, by the way. For helping me sell my papes today, and for lending me your jacket and, everything, really.”
Race smiled, “Of course. It was nice having someone to sell with.” You could tell something was on his mind, he seemed distant.
“I’m glad you came out here,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Lately I’ve been thinking, and well,” he paused before continuing, “what if we went out sometime? If you don’t want to that’s fine,” he said quickly, “but I was thinking we could go on a date or something.”
Before you could second-guess yourself you leaned and pressed your lips to his. Your heart was pounding in your chest and after a split-second he returned the kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft, and unsurprisingly, the kiss tasted of cigar smoke and something sweet that you couldn’t quite place. When you finally pulled away you were breathless.
He grinned, putting an arm around your waist, “So, is that a yes?”
You laughed as you rested your head on his shoulder, “It’s a yes.”
~~~
Requested By: anon
Why do my newsies fics always end up longer than I originally plan? Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist and as always likes and reblogs are appreciated! Love you all! <3
#racetrack x reader#racetrack higgins x reader#race x reader#racetrack x y/n#racetrack x you#newsies x reader#jack kelly x reader#spot conlon x reader#newsies#newsies live#newsies 1992#newsies fic#ben tyler cook#newsies imagine#newsies drabble#racetrack imagine#racetrack drabble#anthony higgins#racetrack newsies#race newsies#jack kelly#racetrack higgins#ben cool#racetrack imagines#newsies headcannons#newsies fanfiction
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The Beginning of the End
Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Word Count: 1,041
Summary: Harry doesn’t know how to get Y/N to realize that he doesn’t hate her. Thankfully, Mitch has the perfect idea.
Warning(s): Some swearing, plotting and planning, Harry being a complete lovesick fool, Y/N isn’t present in this, it’s a hitch friendship moment.
A/N: This is technically part of the The View From Both Sides of The Mirror universe! (If you haven’t read the fic it’s based upon, you can always read that here) Anyways, I am completely in love and entirely invested in their story, so this is just one of the many blurbs that I have planned (as of right now there are two or three others that I’m thinking about writing!!)
As always, positive feedback is appreciated! If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all, and make sure to reblog to share with your friends if you enjoy it!
Masterlist
Add yourself to my taglist here
Request anything you want here but be sure to read my guidelines first!!
*
~Approximately two weeks before the beginning of The View From Both Sides of The Mirror.~
Harry audibly groans, drawing the attention of the other man in the room, causing him to snap his attention towards the sound. His long brown hair is almost down to his shoulders again, so the strands sway for a moment after his attention has been trained on the, obviously upset, young man.
“What’s wrong this time, H?” Mitch asks, his soft-spoken manner a stark contrast of the outburst that just wracked through Harry’s body.
“She hates me, man.” He groans, the chestnut curls atop his head falling slightly out of place as he drops his head to his hands. He uses his palms to begin massaging his eyes and his fingertips to knead at the sensitive skin of his temples, trying to soothe the headache that had been plaguing him for the majority of the day.
“Who?” Mitch, of course, already knows the answer to his query, the only thing that the young star had been talking about for the past few weeks was Y/N.
“Oh, shut it, Mitch. You know who I’m talking about.” Harry grumbles. The older man can’t help but chuckle. He doesn’t understand how Harry can be so adamant on making Y/N think that he hates her when he’s actually head over heels for her.
“Why don’t you just cut the act already?” Harry scowls at the suggestion, already having a thousand reasons why that just won’t work. “The worst she can do is continue to hate you. There won’t be much of a change.”
Harry heaves the throw pillow that he was clutching, almost hitting Mitch square in the face.Thankfully, the guitarist has quick instincts, so he catches the pillow just before it makes contact.
“Shut the fuck up.” Harry grumbles. Mitch didn’t know what he was talking about. Harry couldn’t just all of a sudden change how he’s been acting about her. That would look too suspicious. And it’s not like he was up for the rejection.
“Just stop being a little bitch and talk to her.” MItch pitches the pillow back at harry, who easily catches it before hugging it back to his chest. “What’s so different about her? What’s so different from the other girls, the ones that you seem to have no trouble talking to?”
“I don’t know.” Harry sighs, rearranging himself until he’s spread across the couch. “She’s just so pretty. And even when she’s arguing with me and hurling nasty comments, she’s still so sweet about it somehow.” To Mitch, this makes absolutely no sense, but he’s going to continue to let Harry ramble, knowing that he’ll feel better after he just talks it out. “And she lights up every space that she enters. God, I don’t know how she does it, but she can make the cloudy thunder storming days seem like it’s sunny outside.” Harry nuzzles his face into the pillow he’s still holding onto. “And the way she looks at me, bloody hell, it’s a privilege to be looked at by her. Her eyes are so fucking beautiful, and the way that she seems to look at who you really are, even for just a moment, makes my heart squeeze.
“I feel like I can’t breathe around her, but in the best way possible.” Mitch is just staring at him now, no more smirks or snide remarks running through his head. The only thing that he can piece together while listening to Harry gush on and on about this girl is, wow, he’s got it bad. Of course, he’ll never say that to him, knowing that he’d immediately brush it off. Harry isn’t the best with emotions, and he’s even worse when it comes to commitment. “And, lord, Mitch, when she brushes past me and her skin touches mine? I feel like every one of my nerve endings are on fire.
“She makes me feel things that I never thought I’d feel again. I thought for a long time that I was unlovable, that I was the problem.” Harry’s throat begins to get closed up, the words sounding more and more forced, but he continues. “And I’ve just started to think that maybe I’m worth it, you know?” Mitch nods, although he knows that Harry won’t bother looking over at him. “And there’s just something about her that makes me want to risk it all.”
“Then do it. If she’s worth it, then go for it.” Mitch can sense his hesitance, so he quickly elaborates on his thought. “You can take it slowly. Try to find ways to be nicer to her. I know you’ll still come off as a dick because you’re used to doing so by now, but just try to ease into it.” Mitch stops for a moment, trying to gauge Harry’s reaction. All he gets is a wave of Harry’s hand, signaling for him to continue. “Just start to find ways to let her know that you care. Don’t rush either of you into it.”
“Yeah, maybe I could do that.” Harry conceded, knowing that Mitch is a lot wiser than him. And if his relationship with Sarah has anything to say for him, he’s a lot better at relationships as well. “I just don’t know when we’ll spend enough time together for me to do anything.”
Mitch is quiet for a moment, thinking it over. “Aren’t you going on that vacation with Sam and Lexi?” Harry just nods, not understanding what that has to do with anything. “And you said there was room for one more person?” He gives yet another nod, still not comprehending what Mitch is trying to say. “Make sure that she goes. Regardless of what it takes, make sure that she is on the flight.”
The realization finally washes over Harry, and he doesn’t think that he’s ever had someone give him such a great idea.
‘Yeah, I think I can do that.” He assures Mitch, who just nods.
And at that exact moment, Harry decides that this trip will be the week that changes the way Y/N perceives him. It will be the end of them as enemies, and hopefully be the beginning of them as lovers.
*
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The Guilty Consequences
My second-ever fanfiction! I tried to approach this using an angsty/hurt/comfort angle. Hopefully it’s satisfactory. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated 💚
Summary: Kuvira has achieved everything she's ever dreamed of. The Avatar and her fiancé are gone, Republic City has fallen, the Earth Empire is fully united, and there's nothing obstructing her goals anymore. But why does she feel the guilty consequences of her actions gnawing at her psyche?
Rating: Mature for foul language and mentions of death and violence.
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Kuvira
Word count: ~3,950 words
To read on fanfiction.net, click here.
To read on AO3, click here.
“Great Uniter?”
Your gentle voice draws Kuvira’s attention away from the cockpit’s windows of her enormous mecha suit, which is currently situated over the rubble of what used to be President Raiko’s office. After successfully stopping Team Avatar from meddling in Kuvira’s efforts to conquer Republic City, the rest of the United Republic of Nations fell neatly into the hands of the Earth Empire. Korra and her friends were clever enough to believe that kidnapping Kuvira’s so-called fiancé and using him as a bargaining chip would convince her to give up the assault on Republic City. Little did they know, Kuvira was ecstatic to seize the opportunity to rid herself of the engagement and wipe out Team Avatar for the good of the empire. One simple blast of her mecha’s spirit cannon directed towards Future Industry’s factory killed two birds with one stone. Of course, Kuvira still had to worry about Korra’s reincarnation when the new earthbending Avatar came of age, but seeing as how they would be reborn into the Earth Empire, the Great Uniter was not concerned about the future Avatar’s actions for now. She would worry about that problem on another day. For now, the aftermath of Republic City’s defeat was a more pressing matter.
The corner of Kuvira’s lip twitches upward in a faint smile when she turns to meet your gaze. You stride towards her and wrap an arm around her waist before planting a quick kiss on the beauty mark underneath her eye. A noise of contentment emanates somewhere deep in her throat as she leans into your touch. “You know you don’t have to call me Great Uniter, Y/N. Especially not when we’re alone.”
“Oh trust me, I know,” you retorted. “I just thought it would be fitting to use your official title to commemorate you on a job well done. The Earth Empire is completely unified now thanks to you.”
Kuvira’s eyes flicker back to surveying the remnants of Republic City. “You flatter me, Y/N. I hardly completed the effort on my own. There were my soldiers, my engineers, and don’t forget the radio technician that triangulated Team Avatar and Baatar’s location in Future Industry’s factory. We’d still be at war with Republic City if it weren’t for their intel. I owe my success to my loyal followers, and especially to you. I don’t regret appointing you to draft annexation treaties for the states that yielded peacefully.” She chuckled softly. “I would’ve never gotten to know you so intimately if I hadn’t done that, much less had the privilege to call you mine.” She presses an innocent kiss to the corner of your mouth.
You scoffed playfully and pulled back from Kuvira’s waist. “You give yourself too little credit! Not many people would’ve had the mental fortitude to take out your strongest opposition using the spirit cannon. The Earth Empire exists because of you.” You lower your voice and snuggle back to Kuvira’s side. “You know… I’m kinda glad that you did it, even if it sounds awful. It’s unfortunate that Korra and Baatar are gone, but at least we don’t have to worry about the Avatar for another sixteen-something years. We don’t have to hide our relationship from everyone anymore, and you don’t have to pretend to be attracted to some gross guy. We can be authentically together in peace while you build your nation. That’s what matters.” A twinge of guilt spreads through your chest when you dare to defile Korra and Baatar, but you ignore it as best as possible. This is for the best, you repeat to yourself. Funnily enough, that phrase has become a personal mantra for both you and your lover.
You felt Kuvira’s muscles stiffen almost imperceptibly when she heard the words “Avatar” and her ex-fiancé’s name on your lips. Surely she must feel relieved that she doesn’t have to fake being in love with a man as a cheap cover-up for her true sexuality, even if he was taken out of the picture a tad bit brusquely, to say the least. She also doesn’t have Korra breathing down her neck anymore, so what gives? Kuvira’s eyes are glued to the windows offering a panoramic view of the leagues and leagues of wreckage. She remains uncomfortably quiet.
Unsure of whether or not Kuvira wants you to remain clinging onto her, you start pulling away when she shows no sign of breaking the silence. You’ve been romantically involved with Kuvira for three years now, and you know that when she clams up, there’s no use trying to pry her open until she’s ready. During the first few months of your relationship, she would often have trouble separating her outwardly ambitious and cunning persona from her inwardly vulnerable and tender true self. On days where her reunification efforts fell behind schedule or the Avatar knocked her carefully calculated plans awry, Kuvira’s sour mood leaked into your personal lives. At times, she would inadvertently lapse into Great Uniter-mode while you were trying to relax together after a long day’s work. It wasn’t until you gently coaxed her out of her tension that she began to share what was weighing heavily on her mind. You supported her as best as you could, but when it came to more delicate topics, such as her childhood, her relationship with her adoptive family, or her innermost feelings, Kuvira shut down. She would come clean to you when she was prepared to talk. All would reveal itself in due time.
You murmured something vague about seeing her later as you padded quietly towards the door. Just as you were about to leave the mecha’s cockpit, a feeble voice called out for you to wait. Stopping in your tracks, you spun on your toes to look at Kuvira. The orange sunset filtered in through the windows and outlined her body in a shimmering glow, which seemed to have a softening effect on her unusually tense body language. Her entire frame was as rigid as a steel beam, legs shoulder-width apart, arms poised behind her back. Her brow was furrowed ever-so-slightly and the corner of her eyes were pinched, as if she was lost in thought or fighting off a headache.
“Y/N,” she ventured. She inhaled sharply before continuing. “I thought reuniting the Earth Empire and conquering the United Republic of Nations would be… different. Ever since Suyin refused to stabilize Ba Sing Se and share Zaofu’s progressiveness, I believed I was the only person competent enough to take initiative. I stepped up to the plate and accomplished my goals. The Earth Empire is stronger than ever. I’m finally in the position to launch industrialization and modernization campaigns in villages neglected by that archaic monarchy everyone despised. I restored order where there was anarchy. I stopped lawless bandits stealing from the poor. I gave resources to the needy when we annexed states, yet…” her eyes flutter closed for a moment as she pauses to collect her thoughts. When she reopens her eyes, her jade colored eyes plead silently at you. Even when you’re standing across the cockpit from each other, you notice that her shoulders are trembling ever-so-slightly.
You’re astonished at Kuvira’s rare moment of vulnerability. Usually it takes her a few hours, maybe a day or two, for her to open up about a touchy subject. Even then, she’s not one to show emotion so openly on her countenance, not unless she’s severely distressed and totally certain that you and her are alone together. You took a few hesitant steps towards her.
“You thought winning would be different, huh?” Unsure of how to proceed, you decided to try your hand at a bit of light-hearted banter to see if it might have an effect on your lover. “Well, yeah winning was going to be different! You made your plans based on the assumption that Korra would always be a pain in the ass even after we annexed the United Republic and started our projects, but now you don’t have to worry about her anymore! What about the wedding? You don’t have to marry a guy you don’t love, and we don’t have to worry about hiding our relationship from everyone. Isn’t that a weight off your shoulders?” Despite your confession, you knew the loss of life was a tragedy. You convinced yourself that it was for the greater good, and you knew Kuvira shared your sentiment. This is for the best, you recited. You shimmied towards her and reached out to hold her gloved hands in your own. Icy fingers of anxiety began to spider its way throughout your chest when you looked into her eyes plagued by fear. “Kuvira… is everything alright?” You squeezed her quivering hands for emphasis.
Kuvira’s eyes flitted to a spot right over your shoulder. “That’s not what I meant, Y/N. I meant I thought winning would be better than this.”
“Better?”
“Yes. Better.” It appears Kuvira is becoming irritated at you.
“Kuvira, I won’t understand what you’re trying to say if you keep beating around the bush like that. Why isn’t this better?”
Kuvira lets out an exasperated groan and yanks her hands away from you. “Don’t pretend to be stupid, Y/N. You know what I’m talking about. There’s more good in the Earth Empire than bad. At least, that’s what I keep trying to convince myself. This is for the best, we would always say. I made more progress than what I took away from people. The price I paid— no, the price other people paid— for my progress was justified. Isn’t it?” Kuvira’s voice falters on the last two words tumbling out of her lips. “What good is ruling the Earth Empire if all I have to show for it is a pile of rubble? Just look at this! How am I supposed to uplift my people if this is what I have to work with?” Her voice steadily rose in volume the more she spoke, until she was practically yelling when she swept her arm to the window showcasing Republic City’s destroyed buildings.
The adrenaline rushing through your body begins to drown out all hopes of rational thought and speech. You find yourself raising your voice to match your lover’s anger. “Kuvira, I thought this is what you wanted. You wanted to tear out the old and bring in the new. That’s all you ever talked about when we were campaigning. Why are you changing your mind now?”
“For fuck’s sake, don’t you see? You even said it yourself! It’s a tragedy that the Avatar and my ex-fiancé and all these other people are gone.” Kuvira’s eyes flash dangerously with seething rage. “Why did I make other people pay for my hopes and dreams for the Earth Empire? I dethroned Prince Wu and ridiculed him in front of the whole world, I threatened to let people die if they didn’t join me, I forced Varrick to build a weapon of mass destruction, I destroyed the most spiritual and sacred tree in the Foggy Swamp for the sake of violence, I didn’t hesitate to put dissenters in reeducation camps to be brainwashed and dehumanized.” She takes a ragged breath before bellowing “I murdered people with my spirit cannon. Why didn’t you fucking stop me, Y/N?”
Your voice reaches a shrill pitch as you hurl back your rebuttal. “I didn’t stop you because this is what you wanted,” pointing an accusing finger towards Kuvira to accentuate your points. “You’re charismatic enough to make other people agree with you. You convinced yourself you were doing this for everyone else’s good, and you convinced me, too. Don’t you remember? This is for the best. No one stopped you because you locked yourself in an echo chamber filled with people that agreed with your plans. And when someone did have the courage to speak up, you sent them to reeducation camps, threatened their lives, or outright killed them.”
“So you think this is my fault?” Kuvira takes an intimidating step towards you and looks down upon you threateningly. Her voice drops to a dangerously low growl. “Me? This is all me?”
“Now it’s your turn to stop being dense, Kuvira. You just admitted that you thought winning would be different and you just gave a guilt-ridden speech about making other people pay for your mistakes. Open your damn eyes!”
Kuvira abruptly pivots her body away from you and takes several steps back. “You are dismissed, soldier,” she whispered in a cold voice as unyielding as steel. She resumed looking out the window with her arms behind her back.
“Seriously, Kuvira?” you moan. “You can’t just push me away like that when you’re so close to realizing the truth. Why don’t you listen to me? Why don’t you listen to yourself?” You cautiously take a step closer before she whips around and metalbends a fragment of her shoulder plate in your general direction which misses your face by a mere hairsbreadth. Your body freezes as your mind races to comprehend that Kuvira would dare threaten your safety.
“Leave me, Y/N.” Kuvira refuses to look at you.
You stand motionless for a moment that stretches on for an eternity as your eyes overflow with bitter tears. The cockpit’s door slams loud enough to reverberate throughout the mecha suit as you plod your way down to the nearest exit and catch a ferry to Kuvira’s base of operations on Air Temple Island, knowing she would meet you there when she was ready to be calm and civilized. The whole time you spent traveling from the giant mecha to Republic City’s docks, throngs of weary-eyed refugees peeking behind piles of rubble plagued your sights. Thankfully, the two bodyguards escorting you to the personal quarters you shared with Kuvira kept the masses at bay, but the stark reality of so many war-torn people suffering from the conflict infected your guilty conscience. You roughly dismissed your bodyguards once you set foot on the Island and wasted no time briskly marching to your shared bedroom. You hoped the evening’s darkness masked the silent tears flowing down your cheeks.
Your nightmares consisted of petrified throngs of innocent people fleeing Kuvira’s army. Exhausted bodies toiling away in reeducation camps. The terror etched upon soldiers’ faces as Kuvira intimidated them with violence. And finally, a vision of what you imagined Baatar’s, Korra’s, and the rest of Team Avatar’s last moments on earth must’ve been like before an overpowering purple light burned their bodies out of existence.
You jolted upright in bed drenched in a cold sweat and gasping for air. “Fuck,” you stammered under your breath over and over. “Fucking fuckity fuck. Kuvira really did convince me that everything was for the best, didn’t she?” You didn’t want to believe it at first, but the nagging voice lingering somewhere in your head relentlessly reminded you that this destruction wasn’t worth thousands upon thousands of ruined lives.
Your only job in the Earth Empire’s army was to help expedite the political and legal process of unifying a country. If your position was relatively peaceful and bloodless, you couldn’t begin to imagine Kuvira’s guilt about orchestrating this three year long operation. How am I supposed to convince Kuvira to see the light? you pondered. She was so close to realizing it before she snapped at me. Maybe I can talk to her again and—
An abrupt knocking shook you out of your thoughts. I thought I told those guards to leave me alone. You shuffled to the door and slid it open, half expecting for it to be another diplomat’s messenger begging for you to revise this oh-so-important legal paperwork that couldn’t possibly wait until morning, until you looked up and saw Kuvira slouched against the doorframe. Her chocolate-colored hair cascaded about her shoulders, and her uniform was rumpled from head to toe. You could count on one hand the number of times Kuvira allowed herself to look this haggard, and frankly, the fact that she looked this way hours after your fight in the cockpit led you to believe that maybe she had taken your advice seriously.
“Kuvira?” you gasped.
“Y/N,” she mumbled feebly. “I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to see me after how I reacted, but I don’t know where else to go.” Her voice quavered. “I don’t have anyone else who I can trust with these feelings that are eating me up inside, and I thought maybe you could…” her sentence trailed off unfinished. “Before you left, you mentioned that you knew all of this,” she gestured vaguely at the surrounding area, “was wrong, but I convinced you that it was okay, and I convinced myself that it was okay too, but now I realize that it’s wrong and for fuck’s sake I don’t know what to do about it now.” The last of her strength escaped her body and she crumpled to the floor in a heap of unrestrained sobbing.
Swooping down to the floor alongside her, you promptly wrapped your arms around her shoulders and nestled her into your embrace. Whatever animosity you felt because of how she shooed you out of the cockpit had dissipated. Your fingers threaded themselves into the locks of her hair as you whispered soothing words.
“I’m so sorry I pulled the entire world down with me. I’m so sorry I ruined nearly everyone’s life.” The full force of her words bubbled out of her mouth uninhibited by her previous attempts of restraint. She couldn’t stop talking now if she tried. “I saw how hopeless my nation was after it descended into lawlessness. I was willing to pay the ultimate price to nurture it into something stronger than ever before, but I didn’t realize I had no authority to take away other people’s autonomy. I had no right to take lives, no right to let people suffer when I didn’t get what I wanted, no right to let people starve on the streets if a state didn’t join the Empire, no right to usurp power, no right to throw the entire world out of balance by murdering the Avatar just to achieve my vision.” She buries her face into your nightshirt before choking out her final sentences. “I’m so sorry I pulled you down with me, Y/N. I especially didn’t want to threaten you the way I did earlier. You’re the last person I ever want to hurt.”
You feel that Kuvira’s sorrow is rather misplaced. She shouldn’t be entirely apologizing to you, but rather to the whole world and everyone whom’s lives she changed for the worse. But now is not the time to object to her apology. For now, you let her weep into your chest for several minutes until her tears subside and her body stops trembling.
After her emotions have stabilized somewhat, you help your lover stand on her feet and guide her to the edge of the mattress. You gently work out the knots in her hair using your fingers and begin to strip the layers of her uniform off her body. She tries protesting by claiming that she’s perfectly capable of doing it herself, but you discourage her by pressing a finger to her lips and muttering “you’ve had a rough day in more ways than one. Let me help you get ready for bed.” Once you’ve helped her don her nightclothes, you stretched yourself out on the bedsheets and gently pulled her into your protective embrace once more.
Several minutes of silence pass like this, Kuvira curled up flush against your body, before you felt it was safe to express your thoughts about her confession. “Kuvira, I appreciate you apologizing to me, but I’m not the only person you should be apologizing to. Telling me you’re sorry isn’t going to absolve all of your guilt.”
“I know,” she said. “I know I have a long journey ahead of me, but you were the first person I felt I needed to apologize to before I kept going.”
“I say this with love, but I think you owe an apology to the entire world. You can’t keep living in guilt like this.”
Kuvira pauses briefly before saying “I don’t think I could live with myself if I keep being the Great Uniter. The position I created for myself carries too much blood and suffering.”
“Does that mean you’re going to stop being the Great Uniter?”
“I think I’m going to convene with all the major world leaders. Raiko is still around somewhere, and so is Prince Wu, Tenzin, the Beifongs, Fire Lord Izumi. I still want the country to be modernized like the rest of the world, but I think it’s best if they take the reins. I don’t think they’d appreciate me doing the work after how I’ve hurt everyone. I’ll arrange a speech announcing my decision to permanently step down. And then,” she takes a shaky breath, “I’ll happily walk into a courtroom and accept whatever punishment the law deems fit.”
“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to take such a drastic decision so quickly, but I’m glad you did. I’m not blameless either, Kuvira. I’m sorry for enabling you. I hope I can make up for it by being with you every step of the way.”
An unamused grin creeps upon Kuvira’s face. “Even if it means we’ll go to prison together?”
“Especially if it means we go to prison together,” you chided. “How else would I keep you company? I wouldn’t leave you all by yourself. Maybe we can be cellmates.” Her face is still marred red-rimmed eyes and a slight scowl. If you dared to tickle her, she might crack a genuine smile for the first time since Republic City fell.
You dig your fingers into Kuvira’s side, eliciting a sharp yelp from her before she’s overcome by a fit of giggles. The sound of Kuvira’s mirth is a treat she rarely shares with anyone, especially since she shouldered this massive enterprise. Who knows when you’d ever get to hear or see her happy like this?
A fraction of the tension in her body has melted away after her laughter subsides. “Thank you sincerely. Your support is priceless, and so is your humor.” She snuggles closer into your body before murmuring “I love you, Y/N” into your shoulder.
“I love you too,” you whispered before you both drifted off to sleep. The peace between you and Kuvira would be radically different, if not uncertain, by the time she calls upon the world leaders and steps down. For at least this one silent night, you can cherish your last few moments of freedom together with her.
#legend of korra#the legend of korra#lok#tlok#kuvira#the great uniter#great uniter#Kuvira x reader#reader x Kuvria#Kuvira x fem!reader#fem!reader x Kuvira#fanfic#fanfiction#lok kuvira#tlok kuvira#kuvira lok#kuvira tlok
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The best (& the worst) argument against Harmione that any anti-harmione shipper says:
"Harry and Hermione were siblings."
Okokok I don't even know where to start and I don't even want to start because I know I won't be able to finish until I type for over 30 minutes. Btw, caps lock words aren't meant to be me yelling, but more like, me highlighting.
So, the anti-hhr army ALWAYS uses that one scene from DH as an argument against Harmione and, let me tell you, it makes no sense and shouldn't be considered as a valid point.
"She's like my sister. I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It's always been like that, I thought you knew."
I have to start this with one simple question. WHAT ELSE DID YOU EXPECT HARRY TO SAY? At this point, we KNEW H/Hr wasn't going to be canon. Did you expect him to say - "oh, I'm sorry, Ron, but I'm in love with Hermione, but you can have her" - ??? Because if you did, then you should've been sure Harry and Hermione were going to be canon. But at that point, we ALL knew it wasn't. So if you had any common sense, you wouldn't be expecting that.
Now, if you were expecting him to say they were "just friends", and not "just siblings", what's the difference? In this case, there isn't really that much of a difference. And it should be very obvious to you that Harry didn't say "just friends" to Ron, because he knew that wouldn't reassure him enough - as it clearly didn't before - so he had to say something different that could completely assure Ron that Harry and Hermione didn't fancy each other. That was one of the reasons for saying "siblings" instead of "friends."
And this point should get a chance to make anti-hhr army think about their argument differently. Since they were "just like siblings", HOW IN THE WORLD IS THAT A BAD THING?
This is something I GENUINELY don't understand. If they were biologically siblings, the ship would've been gross, but they weren't. Listen, HARRY AND HERMIONE WEREN'T BIOLOGICALLY SIBLINGS. And, the most shocking thing is, being as close as siblings is an AMAZING thing, and yet the anti-hhr army still somehow turn it against harmione! Harry and Hermione were as close as siblings, they trusted each other like SIBLINGS, they cared about each other like siblings, they loved each other like siblings, they shared a special bond stronger than any other, they were so comfortable with each other and so close that they were like siblings!! PLEASE EXPLAIN HOW THIS IS NEGATIVE TO THE SHIP BECAUSE IT ONLY P R O V E S THE STRENGTHS OF THE SHIP!
HEAR ME OUT, whoever was the first one to use this against Harmione was a complete dumbhead and didn't even think what he/she was saying nor what he/she was trying to prove! Seriously, what DO you want to prove? How is being as close as siblings affecting the ship negatively? If Harry and Hermione loved each other like siblings, there was an even stronger chance they'd end up falling in love with each other due to their extraordinary bond! Having a sibling-like bond is NOWHERE NEAR BAD for the ship. If you think that loving each other like siblings would stop them from loving each other romantically, YOU'RE WRONG, because the only thing their sibling-like love brings them, is an even more powerful bond and stronger trust & care!
PLEASE think twice before you say something, because you can make yourself look like a complete idiot. Don't randomly repeat other people's points just because you WANT to agree with them. You need to be rational and actually think about the positives & the negatives about ships (and everything else in life tbh) before you share your opinion about it!
For example, I ship Romione, and I see so many flaws in the ship, and I won't deny their relationship wasn't absolutely perfect. That's what makes me a true shipper and not a fake one just screaming "Romione is flawless" without thinking.
I DON'T ship Dr*mione, because it's toxic, abusive, etc, I won't go into details. I do see that the shippers are trying to be "creative, outside-the-box-thinkers" and think they could have great chances if Draco changed, but the negativity of the ship completely overshadows the positive fantasies of it. And that is what makes me the opposite of a nine-year-old hater who just screams "DR*MIONE IS POOP" without thinking nor using logical arguments.
And about Harmione, my OTP, I can also see the positives and negatives. Like, when Harry didn't expect Hermione to look so gorgeous at the ball and even his jaws dropped(Although that was a mix of Harry's shock of the surprise AND Hermione's beauty too)! But the positives of h/hr are SO MUCH stronger than those teeny lil negative details of the ship that there's almost no chance you can use the little details against them.
So, if you have a 100% positive/negative opinion on a ship, PLEASE think twice because there's ALWAYS flaws and greatness.
And, if you're going to state a point against any ship, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE P L E A S E think before you say it, because often you can be proven very wrong (like in this paragraph). If there's many arguments against your point, reconsider stating it, because it will only make you look like an idiot, and you may even become the leader of the army who states opinions without thinking. Just like the person who first thought it was a good idea to use Harmione's WONDERFUL, even SIBLING-LIKE, bond against them.
Thank you for reading this paragraph. If you are a fellow defender of Harmione, then you're welcome for having your eyes & brain blessed! Please, reblog it to spread the word and hopefully convince others to ship Harry and Hermione!
If you're a part of the anti-harmione army, then I really hope I managed to at least make you think about this topic, if not convince you to abandon it.
And, once again, thank you for reading! Follow for more similar posts with opinions including logical points & arguments! :)
#harmione#harmony#harry and hermione#hermione and harry#harry x hermione#hermione x harry#hermione granger#harry potter#harry potter ships#anti harmione#anti harmony#anti draco malfoy#anti dramione#dramione
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Pseudo Princess Pt.27
Beaten and Lost
03/24/2020
Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 5,109
Warnings: language, canon level violence, injuries, wounds, blood, smidge of angst
A/N: So...I should really edit this more but I’m tired and I’m sure you all want this more than you want my edits. lol I’m pretty satisfied with it. Hopefully y’all like it too. If you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work! xoxo
PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY STORIES. Reblogs are appreciated!
“No! Clint! Get to those citizens. I’ll handle James.”
“Oh, you’ll handle him? Much like you handled those bandits in Bosset?”
“I did handle them.” Nat argues, ducking as another flaming ball of tar goes soaring over their heads. “We got out of there, didn’t we?”
Shielded for the moment behind an overturned vendor’s stall, she and Clint find themselves catching their breath as chaos reigns around them.
Nat can see Peter flying across rooftops, shooting his web at Hydra soldier after Hydra soldier. Incapacitating them by grabbing them and knocking them out or suspending them from the streetlamps and balconies.
She can’t see, but she can hear the whoosh of wind as Sam flies overhead, aided by his specialized wing suit.
“Barely.” Clint nods. “It’s all over after today, you know that, right? Everyone in the kingdom…in all the kingdoms will know who you all are now.”
“It was bound to come out.” Nat shrugs. “It was Steve and Tony that wanted to keep things quiet, for their families’ sake.”
“I can relate.” Clint sighs.
“I’m sorry, Clint. I didn’t mean to drag you back into this.” Nat assesses her old friend, dirty blonde hair, handsome features only slightly aged and looking more exasperated than tired.
Time with his family has done him good.
“It was inevitable.” He nods. “Alright, on the count of three.”
Nat nods, reaching down to take hold of a long metal rod that has broken off from a carriage in place of her usual adamantium daggers.
“Is that really a good idea?” Clint asks, eyeing her sheathed daggers now out and visible with her lack of cloak.
“I love him, Clint.” Nat shakes her head. “I’m going to marry him. I won’t kill him.”
“You might have to.” Clint insists.
Nat only meets his gaze, defiance written all over her scratched up and dirty face.
“One…Two…Thr-” As Clint and Nat make to rise, the weight of their temporary shield falls out from behind them and they have to scramble up onto their knees as they watch the stall levitate up into the air.
“What the-?” Clint begins and they both watch as it rises higher and higher, a strange red energy lifting it into the air.
It swirls around the stall like smoke, vibrant in spots where it pulsates with power.
“Looks like we aren’t alone anymore.” Nat says, bringing Clint’s eyes to her.
He sees her watching the road in front of them and follows her gaze to a young girl, no more than twenty with her hands in the air, clearly directed towards the stall that had just been ripped away from them.
She’s wearing a form fitting red leather tunic and jacket over a pair of dark gray pants. Inexpensive clothing that looks as if it were once new, but now tattered and torn.
Nat at least wears a collection of torn up skirts woven together around her hips making it look as if she were wearing a skirt while leaving the front of her legs exposed so that she can reach her weapons.
This girl is wearing just the pants. No weapons, nothing but the strange red energy.
Her hair is also red, but duller than Natasha’s, and waist length. Left to do as it pleases, it floats around her body as the red magics that she is clearly manipulating dances about her.
With eyes like scarlet fire, she suddenly brings her hands down and both Nat and Clint scramble up just in time, diving out of the way as the stall crashes into the cobbled road and explodes into splinters.
As she approaches, they get to their feet only to feel the strange rush of air and force along their fronts and get knocked to the ground again.
“Do you see-?” Clint begins.
“No.” Nat replies.
They rise again, attempting to get to their feet only to feel the same rush of air and force against their back.
They’re shoved forward and fall onto their hands and knees, landing roughly so that the frozen stones beneath their hands draw a little blood.
Annoyed, Nat glares.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
“The girl is a witch. Could she be doing this?” Clint wonders.
“No, I don’t think so.” Nat sighs and makes to stand again only to get pushed hard in the stomach. It sends her soaring backwards into the air a few feet until she makes impact with something large and hard.
It catches her under the arms and the heat suddenly makes sense as she’s helped to her feet.
“It seems you’re having a bit of trouble, Lady Widow, shall I help?”
“Thor!” Nat gasps, grateful to be up on her feet, but she frowns at him all the same. “How many times must I tell you? It’s Black Widow.”
Thor smiles at her. “It seems you’ve found yourself a bit of a nuisance.”
“Indeed.” Nat nods.
“Hey, how about a little assistance, your Majesty?” Clint gestures at the girl whose stopped advancing at the sight of Thor.
“That girl is not your problem.” Thor says, pointing at the girl and watching her with a furrowed brow.
“Then what is it?” Natasha asks.
“It’s the boy.”
“Boy?” Clint pushes himself up onto his knees and looks around, confused. “What boy?”
Without warning Thor draws his arm back, calling into it his hammer which very nearly reaches him when the body of a man wearing head to toe silver appears with his hand around the handle midflight.
As it reaches Thor, dragging the boy along with it, Thor quickly grabs him and slams him into the ground only to place his hammer on his chest.
“This boy.” Thor smiles down at him.
Nat’s mouth is slightly agape as she stares down at Thor’s catch, Clint then rises and moves over to look down at the lad as he struggles and grunts against the weight of Mjolnir and attempts to push it off.
“Why couldn’t we see him?” Clint wonders.
“He was moving too quickly for your eyes to see.” Thor explains. “He didn’t know that he wouldn’t be able to lift my hammer.”
“Not so quick now, are you?” Clint taunts.
“I think Hawkeye and I can handle the girl.” Thor says, turning to Nat with a look of stern approval. “Barnes and Hydra are regrouping in the town square. You’d best head there and help the Spiderling, Pigeon, and Stark.”
“Spiderman and Falcon.” Nat corrects, but she’s already backing away from them. “Clint?”
“Go. I’ve got a God on my side.” He watches as Nat turns to run, then looks to the girl whose fingers are still dancing with red waves. “How are we going to handle this one?”
“You could never handle my sister.” Says the boy still struggling, glaring at both Thor and Clint. “The Scarlet Witch will warp you into your darkest nightmares. She will tear your mind apart piece by piece until you are nothing more than a sobbing, whimpering fool.”
“You promise?” Clint asks, then turns to give him a smug smile.
~~~~~~~~~~
She can hear it before it hits. She can feel the heat against her skin before she can even form the plea for Tony to stay his hand.
“James, please.” She begs, holding his arm back behind him with as much strength as she can muster.
Behind her the Falcon has lost a wing as is fighting hand to hand against a mob of Hydra foot soldiers.
Peter is with him, attempting to help as much as he can while also pulling the occasional bystander away from the fight.
Nat has been able to hold Bucky off for only a few minutes. Seven? Eight minutes? Maybe ten.
They feel like hours. Every punch avoided, ever kick expertly maneuvered feels like another thorn in Nat’s heart.
“Please, my love.” She whispers into his ear as he grunts and with a surge of strength pulls his arm from her hold behind his back.
He turns around and grabs her by the neck, squeezing with his flesh arm so tight that her eyes grow red as her hands hesitantly travel down to the blades along her thighs. As her fingers make contact with the cool metal, she realizes that she can’t do it. Nat can’t hurt him.
She mouths his name, a haggard whisper through the constriction of her throat, and brings her hands up to hold the one choking her to death.
Nat thinks she sees a shift in his eyes, a return of warmth, but if it was real it came and went too quickly for her to be sure it wasn’t just her oxygen deprived mind wishing he’d remember that he loves her. That he asked her to marry him.
She wishes that she could have a chance to tell him yes. That she’ll marry him. That even if she can’t give him the life he deserves, if he will have her, she will happily live out the rest of her days by his side.
He flips her, then slams her down against the cobble road. Nat gasps in as much air as she can as the darkness in her vision begins to clear. Her head is pounding, she can feel blood pooling along her scalp.
Wheezing, she forces her body to move, to shift. She wants to see him.
Bucky has turned and is moving towards Tony who has somehow found one of his gauntlets. At the center of his palm is the gleaming blue shine of his blaster. The magic and lightning that he seams to have weaved into his suit and tamed it to use at will.
He raises his glove, holds it up towards the approaching threat.
Nat pushes herself up and throws her and out towards Tony, almost mimicking his movement as the blue light grows brighter faster.
“Tony, n-!” She tries, but he fires, and it hits Bucky square in the chest.
He’s sent flying back into a heap on top of a pile of wooden crates.
Nat falls onto her side, staring at him in relief that he’s down, but she knows it isn’t over. She moves as quickly as she can to subdue him and manages to get onto her feet.
Racing to his side, she reaches for his arm, but he throws it up towards her and she’s sent flying back into one of the now broken lampposts.
She hits it hard and crumples with a pained groan around the base. Somehow, she manages to refocus, pulling herself back up onto her feet with the assistance of the broken post.
By the time she’s up, searching for Bucky, she finds him charging at Tony who has found the rest of his suit probably kept safe in his carriage. Hidden, like Steve’s shield had been. Like all of their tools.
Bucky races at full speed at Tony, not stopping as Tony sends shot after shot towards him. He dodges each blast of energy. He even grabs Tony’s wrists and points his hands up at the sky rending his shots useless.
Tony counters with a kick to his chest, sending Bucky skidding back only to readjust his footing and dive at his target.
Tony punches and kicks, avoiding Bucky’s metal arm as best he can while also trying to blast him with his hands.
It takes only a minute for Bucky to get Tony down on the ground. On his back, Tony is at a disadvantage.
Nat begins to race for them as Bucky brings his metal fingers down around the blinding circle at the center of Tony’s chest.
With his swollen cheek, cut lip, bloody nose, Bucky huffs with the strength he uses to pry his fingers in around the orb.
Nat can hear Tony’s own wounded grunt, one hand pulling at Bucky’s normal arm to pry it away from his neck and the other squeezing and tugging at the metal one around his power source.
“Don’t make me do this Barnes.” Tony gasps.
“Don’t!” Nat cries, still too far away.
The orb within Tony’s chest begins to glow brighter, more blinding, more chaotic in its pulsing energy.
“Tony, don’t!” Nat pleads, pushing her leg to run through her limp.
“I’m sorry.” Tony whispers, and the light in his chest explodes shooting up into the air with a twenty-foot beam.
Nat is thrown back by the force of the blast, but she recovers quickly, forcing herself to scramble up towards them.
Bucky lays motionless a few feet away from Tony’s gasping form his metal arm gone. Severed by Tony’s energy beam at the shoulder. Shards of sharp metal protrude from the wound.
“James!” Nat calls, falling to her knees at his side. “James, please.”
But he’s so still.
For one breathless minute, Nat watches the love of her life lay before her, not breathing.
But then his chest moves, and she’s saved the grief of mourning her one true love.
Turning to Tony, she finds him sitting up, one leg bent with his arm resting over it as he watches her and Bucky.
“Are you alright?” She asks him, ignoring the rage she feels towards him because she knows it was necessary.
“Alright?” Tony gets to his feet. Groaning and grunting as his body protests the movement. “I’m a king. I am…perfection. Urghhh…”
“Perfection my ass.” Nat mutters, turning her gaze back to Bucky.
“Is it my turn?” A shaking elderly voice suddenly speaks.
“By all means, old woman. Assist away.” Tony waves her over, walking with her as she exits one of the shops where she’d been hiding watching the entire fight.
Agatha stops beside Nat and gives her head a quick inspection.
“Get this bandaged up right away, unless you’d like to lay unconscious beside your lover.” She orders.
Nat frowns but tears a piece of fabric from her open skirt and begins to wrap the strip around the worst part of her wound. She doesn’t have time to do it justice.
Agatha drops down beside Bucky and begins to look him over. She opens his eyes and they look as normal as ever.
“Well?” Tony asks, impatient.
“He’s out. It also appears as if whatever spell he was under, it has been broken. His injuries are extensive. He will not wake.” She assures them. “Perhaps ever.”
“What?!” Nat demands, voice panicked.
“This wound.” She suddenly rips Bucky’s tunic open then unbuttons his shirt to show a massive amount of black bruising along the left side of his body. “This will not heal easy. We need to get him somewhere safe. The quicker the better.”
“Tony…” Nat begins, turning to him, but Tony is watching the crowd in the distance.
“We can’t just leave them. There are still too many Hydra soldiers running around the city.” He frowns, his mind also jumping to you and Steve.
Are the two of you alright?
“You won’t.” Thor says from above before he lands with a small earth-shaking boom beside them. “I will stay along with the Pigeon, the Spiderling, and the Hawk. The two of you should take Barnes and the other prisoners back to your castle.
“Someone also needs to begin the search for Steve and the little bird. From what Peter said, Steve was gravely wounded. And Y/N is pregnant. I need to know she’s safe.”
“Prisoners? What prisoners?” Tony wonders.
“Don’t worry.” Thor assures them. “They too will not wake before you reach the castle. Go, my friends. I will provide what assistance I can here.”
“Thor…” Nat begins, desperate to thank him.
“Natasha…” Thor cuts her off, turning a serious and suddenly terrified gaze on her. “Find her. Find Steve. Make sure they’re alright.”
Nat agrees, knowing that she too will not rest well until she knows that you’re home safe and that your little prince is hopefully, unharmed.
You’re exhausted, trudging through overgrown fronds and grass as you struggle to weave your way through densely packed sycamore trees.
The forest is old, the canopy all but obscures the night sky above.
In the darkness, you cling to Steve’s hand as he leads you through the trees. Every now and then the late winter wind blows and scatters the branches overhead to give you a stunning view of the clear sky. A jeweled sky dazzles you, then retreats behind the leaves once again.
Your arm is yanked forward, and you gasp tripping over your dress which you quickly yank up with your free hand to keep from falling.
Steve’s cloak, still around you to stave off the frigid air, nearly does you in with a second trip but you managed to find your balance.
“Steve…” You begin, a warning in your voice because he’s your guide. He can see better than you can apparently and you’re relying on him to keep you upright with your little prince at stake.
What you find is Steve slumped against a tree, still somehow standing, but clearly weak and unable to stand upright. He drops his shield where it falls with a muted clunk.
“Steve!” You gasp, releasing his hand which he was still holding onto tightly, and rush to his side.
Getting in close is the only way that you can see his face, so you get right up against him. His nose only a few inches away.
He has both eyes closed, one swollen and black, bruised so darkly you shudder to think what that might look like under proper light.
His lips are slightly blue and that gives you such fright. You throw the cloak off of your shoulders and quickly wrap it around him.
With a split bleeding lip, now crusted in the corners where he allowed the crimson to dribble and pool, he protests.
“No.” He says, still managing some volume and a stern tone despite the exhaustion he’s clearly feeling and the pain his body is fighting.
The longer he stands there pressed against the tree, the lower slides along the thick trunk.
“Keep it on. It’s c-cold.” He shudders and you frown at him.
“You need it more than I do.” You assert and clasp the cloak at around his neck then draw the rest closed to help him keep what little heat he has.
“But our baby.” He sighs, finally reaching the base of the tree where he sits with his legs bent but weakly splayed out as you make sure his cloak is secure.
“Our little one is warm and safe in my belly.” You give him a smile but begin to notice the way his shield arm is resting at an odd angle. “Steve, your arm…”
“It’s nothing.” He tries.
“Don’t lie to me Steven.” You frown.
“It’s dislocated.” He relents quickly not missing a beat, knowing the tone you’re using well from the night you found Sharon in his bed.
“Shit.” You bite your lip but move to position yourself beside him. “Steve, why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“We had to get away.” He shakes his head but meets your eyes. “I needed you safe.”
“I am safe. But what will I do if you pass out here, in the middle of the forest? You should have told me. We should have stopped when I asked hours ago.” Your worry is outweighing your anger, and he seems to see that because he smiles weakly.
“Is this really the time to rub it in how right you are all the time?” He teases.
“Steve…” You fuss.
“I’m alright, my flower. Truly.” He lies.
You growl and move around the base of the tree sticking close to the ground. You move all the way around it, circling until you come up on Steve’s other side.
“What are you doing?” He wonders, curious but also wary.
“Looking for something. Do you still have your dagger?” You reopen his cloak and begin to feel around his waist.
He shifts for you, shoving his hips out a little and arching his back which makes him grunt with pain.
“Center of my waist. On the back.” He instructs.
Quickly you reach for it and pull it out before you pull his cloak shut again then turn around and begin to crawl away from him.
A tug on your skirts stops you and with his dagger in hand you turn to look back at him.
“Where are you going?” He frets, brow furrowed.
“Don’t worry, I won’t go far.” You promise, reach back, and pull his hand away from your skirts.
You crawl around for maybe ten minutes, picking up every stone and pebble that your fingers blindly encounter. At one point you swear you feel a silky scaled body slither past your outstretched digits but you ignore it and swallow down the panic as you convince yourself that it was probably more afraid of you than you are of it.
At last, several trees away and just out of Steve’s sight, you find what you’re looking for. You reach around for the long thin branch that you’d felt earlier. With the knife, stone, and branch, you crawl back to Steve to find him sitting up, craning his neck for sight of you.
Upon it, he sits back and releases a long-held breath.
His legs are a little more relaxed, stretched out but still wide open in his fatigue. You settle between them, scooching as close as you can but turn back forward as you sit up as straight as you can.
“Can you undo my bodice?” You ask, with your collection of tools placed before you, you move your hair out of his waist.
“You can’t take off your clothes.” Steve says, not understanding what you’re trying to do.
“Steve…just do it. Open my dress and once you see my corset strings, open it and then rip the driest part of my underdress. As much of it as you can.
“Y/N…” Steve begins, defiant.
“Please.” You beg, but you make it clear it isn’t an option.
After a moment of hesitation, he huffs out a gust of air before he gets to work on your dress.
It takes him five minutes to undo it and your corset, then another three to find and rip as large a piece of your underthings as he can.
“Is that dry enough?” He checks, holding out for you a strip long enough to wrap your arm several times.
“That’s perfect, my love.” You gush, taking the strip to feel how damp it might be.
Your skirts would have been too wet, trudging through snow all night.
Steve does your dress up as best as he can or attempts to before you’re up on your feet moving away from him.
“Wait…” He complains but you don’t stop and instead begin to feel around the large trunks you pass.
“You can dress me again in just a moment.” You tell him, but he growls.
“You’re going to catch your death with your back open like that!” He fumes.
You ignore him in favor of your search and after only two minutes this time, you find what you’re looking for. A knothole almost just out of reach.
Licking your lips, you push yourself up onto your toes and with trembling fingers search the space within.
You shut your eyes and refuse to think about what animals you may be disturbing.
Luckily, you find none, and instead find what you’re looking for.
With your stick and fabric in hand you scoop out as much dead and dried foliage as you can into the fabric with your stick placed in the middle of it all. The knothole is abundant in material, so you take as much as you need before you wrap it up around one end of the stick.
You cut a few small holes into the fabric to give the twigs and leaves and dried grass some air before you move back towards where you can hear Steve groaning in pain.
As he hears you near, he makes sure to stop.
Because he needs it more than you do at the moment, you find your spot between his legs again and turn around for him.
Quickly he begins to do your dress up, fighting the pain of his dislocated shoulder.
He’s pushing himself too hard and you know that he will pay for it. You hate that!
By the time he laces up your bodice, the spark from his steel dagger on your flint rock strikes a spark and your torch comes to life, blazing bright in what was only a second again pitch dark.
It’s blinding and you blink against the light before you grab it and turn to look at your husband.
He’s impressed, his face full of it, but what a face it is all beaten, black and blue.
“Oh, Steve.” You cry, your heart breaking.
“I’m okay.” He promises, reaching up with his good hand to stroke your cheek.
“No, you’re not!” You smack his hand away and shove the end of your torch into the ground to free up your hands.
With his cloak already open from him dressing you, you reach for his shoulder and feel for the shift.
Giving him time to fight you on this is not an option so you quickly force him back against the tree.
“Stay still.” You order, and without waiting for him to acknowledge what you’re saying, you begin to pull his shoulder up in small smooth circles.
“No, Y/N, wait.” He groans.
“Shh.” You frown but continue to lift his arm up.
“Y/N…” He repeats, his voice fighting the agony.
“Shush!” You insist, then finally feel the shift as his arm pops back into place.
“AH!” Steve cries, his breathing hard and his eyes shut tight.
You guide his arm across his chest and push it towards him to make sure he knows to keep it there while you tear more fabric from the thick layers of your skirts.
With his arm in a sling, Steve seems a bit more relaxed.
“Where did you learn to do that?” Steve wonders as you get up and fix your dress before you reach over for the torch.
His eyes are glued to your face, full of admiration and adoration, bloody lips curled slightly in a smile.
“I grew up alone, remember? I had to take care of myself.” You move to his good arm and hook your own through them. “Come on, your Majesty. On your feet.”
He groans and grunts as you pull him back onto his feet and tired legs. While he gets used to the sensation again, you hand him the torch and lean him against the tree. Then you move to grab his shield and with a long spare piece of your skirts available, you tie the disc to your back where you know it will be safe.
“You look good in my insignia.” Steve flirts.
“Of course, I do. I’m your wife.”
Steve huffs a small laugh.
“Come on, King Flirt. Lean on me.”
He wraps his good arm around your shoulders and leans as much weight against you as he’s willing which gladly is enough that the two of you can get moving again. And with the torch now out to show you the forest, you gasp as you realize just where you are.
“What is it?” Steve asks, sensing your glee.
“I know where we are!” You smile. “Come on. If we make good time, we’ll get there before the sun rises.”
It takes two more hours of you pulling Steve forward, forcing him to move faster just as he’d first forced you away from danger. You’re starting to feel the bite of the cold, but you don’t dare take the cloak from him. Only now are his lips beginning to show a bit of color. His cheeks aren’t so pale. His eyes are a little brighter.
You’re at the top of a hill when you finally stop and you’re breathing hard as your eyes take in the sight you’d thought you’d lost forever.
If not forever, then at least for a long time.
Below you both, nestled into the hillside is the Village of Bright Rise. A dozen and a half thatched roofed buildings that were once the only home you thought you’d ever know.
The church is on one end of the square, old and crumbling but still made with materials far better than the village houses that look to be in the midst of repairs.
The mill to the farms is on the right, and the old manor home—long since abandoned by the lord that had settled Bright Rise way before your parents had been born—sits derelict and half destroyed about a mile away from the village.
Still, despite the poverty you see before you, there is beauty in the large trees and the flower fields that you can only remember from your memories now with winter having taken the blooms. The small pond is frozen, and the roads are blanketed with fresh snow from earlier in the night when the sky had filled with clouds before being whisked away by winter winds.
“Where are we?” Steve wonders, staring at the little village below.
“We’re in Bright Rise.” You declare. “This is Bright Rise, Steve. This is where I was born. This is where my parents died and where I grew up. Just outside of the village, just before you reach that abandoned manor, you see that main road?”
Steve follows where your gaze to the spot you mean and nods.
“I see it.”
“That’s where my life changed. That’s where I found Grandmother fallen over in the mud. Where I searched, elbow deep in a bog for her purse. That’s where Father found me. Took me. Changed me.
“That’s where my destiny to be your wife manifested. This…this was my home.” You turn to him, watch as his face changes and devours every inch of the small place he sees below him.
“Do you see that small cottage over by the farms? To the right of the mill? With its crumbling walls and overgrown vine?” You ask, watching him.
“I see it.” He says, “Is that-?”
“That was where I lived. We’ll be safe there for a bit.” You whisper, suddenly nervous about him seeing your home. “Will you stay?”
Steve hears the insecurity in your voice, the fear of what your old home might say about who you were. Who you are. Because even if you are no longer that same girl that was taken at the side of the road, she is still within you. She’s your core. The base of who you have become.
“Anywhere.” Steve says. “So long as I’m with you.”
#king!steve x reader#king!steve x reader fanfiction#medieval fantasy au#royalty au#marvel au#steve rogers x reader#steve x reader#king!steve x you#steve x you#captain america x reader#avengers x reader#pseudo princess#pseudo princess pt27
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The Rights Of A Nindroid
Chapter Twenty-Six
(Previous Chapter Here)
Yeah okay this took forever,,,, have fun with it! (;
Also it was too long for one post again so I’ll reblog this with the rest-
Cryptor struggles to find the solution to the latest puzzle they gave him, doing his best not to let frustration show on his face as he ignores Kyle and Martha talking in the background.
He hates this. He just… he wishes that there was some way out, some way to be free, some way to be okay again.
But there’s not. He’s stuck here, and there’s nothing he can do about it.
He feels tired. So tired. Nothing even seems to make sense anymore, so his only real choice is to just… keep going. Even if the only way he can do that is to follow their orders.
Exhausted, he takes a moment’s pause from the puzzle, absent-mindedly listening in on part of the conversation going on behind him.
Martha is the one speaking. “- and when Sentry is here, we’ll be able to-“
Hold on. Did he just hear what he thinks he did? Did she just- Sentry? She’s going to bring Sentry here?!
He whips around, turning to face them. “What did you just say?!” He demands, ignoring the voice screaming at him to just do what he’s told. He can’t sit there and do nothing, not while his friend is on the line!
Kyle seems to wince some, but Martha glares. “It’s nothing you need to be concerned with, General.” She snaps. “Do not speak out of turn again, and go back to your task.”
He completely disregards the order, only staring at the two of them. They- they’re going to bring him here?! No, no, Cryptor’s been behaving, he’s been following orders, why would they-
“General, calm down.” Kyle interrupts his train of thought. “You knew it would come to this eventually, right?”
Cryptor can only stare in sheer horror as he struggles to come to terms with the implications of what they’re saying. “I- no. No, I didn’t- I-“ He abruptly stands up, pushing the small bench he’s on backwards as the metal screeches, but he ignores the loud sound, barely even able to hear it over his racing thoughts.
“No!” He shakes his head rapidly, struggling to figure out what to say. “You- you can’t-“
“Sit down, General.” Martha orders, her expression one of annoyance.
Fear and anger take over him, leaving him trembling. “You can’t hurt him!” He shouts, trying to come up with something, anything he could do to stop this.
“General! There's nothing you can do about it!” Kyle snaps, an aura of almost unease around him. “Calm down or you'll get hurt yourself!”
Okay, there’s something going on here, usually he doesn’t get so many warnings, why would-
Oh, who cares about what’s going on with that?! Sentry is at stake here!
His words showcase his fear and anger, his voice trembling as he snarls the words out. “I- I can’t just sit here and follow orders when- when you’re going to-“
Martha’s voice is dark as she narrows her eyes at him. “That’s enough, General.” There’s a clear threat to her tone, and just that is enough to make him start shaking…
For a few moments, all he can do is stand there, fighting against the urge to cave, to do what she says, to hopefully avoid punishment-
It’s a struggle, but he manages to hold his ground. “No.” He gets out, making himself hold her gaze. “No, I can’t. It’s not.”
He forces the words out even as he feels his power source kicking into overdrive- he’d rather have it ripped out than let them do what they’ve done to him to the innocent nindroid back at Borg Tower.
Shifting on his feet, Kyle seems to want to say something- but after a moment, he minutely shakes his head, looking over at Martha- likely for instructions.
Every gear and wire inside him feels abuzz with the mechanical equivalent of adrenaline, but he can’t think of what to do or say. His mind is running so fast that he can’t catch up, leaving him only able to stand and stare as the fear floods through him.
“Take it to the training room.” Martha turns to some guards as she speaks, still seeming annoyed. “It appears it needs to relearn an old lesson.”
The words send their own kind of fear through him, the thought of a punishment leaving him shaking even more. But he does his best to shove the feeling down, letting himself be escorted back to the training room and tied down once again.
There still seems to be something off about the blond as he dismisses the guards, but in all honesty, he doesn’t have enough processing power to even try and think about what it might mean.
Kyle sighs, but it doesn’t seem to be out of annoyance. “Okay, use the usual method. Just shocks for an hour.”
Wait- what? That’s it? Well, he- he doesn’t want to be punished more, but usually he gets in more trouble for this kind of thing.
He starts to voice his confusion out loud, but the shock he gets serves as a reality check, reminding him of his situation.
He’s not allowed to speak unless spoken to.
There’s silence, for a while. Which is surprising in its own way- Kyle usually gives him a lecture about what he did wrong while he’s being punished, but this time he’s… oddly quiet.
After all this time, you’d think that Cryptor would have grown numb to the pain. With everything he’s gone through, some shocks are hardly the worst thing in the world.
But somehow, he never seems to be able to quite adjust to it. Every blast of pain is just as bad as the one before it- and sometimes worse, when they start accumulating.
Breathing deeply, he looks down at the floor, struggling to hide how much it hurts. It’s- it’s not really real, anyway. It’s just… just a digital reaction designed to warn him that his circuits might be in danger. But he’s not in any real life-threatening danger, so all it does is-
A particularly painful shock jolts him from his train of thought, and he grinds his teeth as he struggles to push the pain from his mind.
In all honesty, he’s lucky that he’s had the life he did. With all the abuse he suffered from before the facility, he had actually gotten the chance to learn how to cope with this kind of thing.
But Sentry, on the other hand…
No. No, he can’t think about that. He can’t- there’s nothing he can do at the moment, he just needs to keep breathing, needs to not think about it, needs to not imagine what Sentry’s screams would sound like, needs to not picture the way he would curl in on himself as he struggled to cope, needs to not even consider what he might look like after going through even half of what he and Zane had-
He’s pulled from his downward spiral by Kyle, the blond suddenly speaking- and loudly, at that.
“OKAY! Okay, that's enough! An hour is way too long for that small of a mistake, I- Stop!”
When the shocks die down, Cryptor still can’t figure out what’s going on. Something is going on here, but Cryptor honestly doesn’t have the energy to piece together what.
He knows that he’s shaking like a leaf, and it makes his gut churn thinking about how damn weak he is, but he doesn’t dare lift his gaze.
It takes a moment for him to remember what he’s supposed to do. Right, they finished a punishment, he- he needs to confirm that he learned from it.
“ ‘m sorry, Master.”
The words are choked out and pathetic, and just hearing his own voice like that makes him want to cringe.
For some reason, Kyle seems to look uncomfortable, almost regretful in a way. “It's okay, it's- here. Let me-“
He trails off in favor of taking off Cryptor’s restraints- and after he does, he turns away, looking at the far wall.
For a second, the door tempts him. No one is watching, it would be so easy to-
No. No, he can’t do that. He has to stay, to follow orders. He gets hurt if he doesn’t follow orders. And while this punishment wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, that just means that the next one will probably be worse.
A hand comes to clutch at where one of the chains had been pulled a little bit too tight- with the shocks, he actually hadn’t even noticed the way they were digging into his plating until now.
Once again, he remembers what he’s supposed to do. Kyle let him go- and early, at that. He’s supposed to acknowledge that.
There’s no pride left for him to ignore as he speaks. “Th- thank you, Master.”
Kyle doesn’t react, looking almost lost in thought. He brings a hand up to his face, and if Cryptor didn’t know any better, he’d say the blond was trembling.
Alright, something is definitely up here, but Cryptor isn’t going to risk getting punished again for asking. Whatever it is doesn’t seem to be causing any immediate harm, so he’d be better off leaving it alone.
With no orders or distractions, his mind begins to drift. And unfortunately, his stupid processer takes him back to Sentry.
He really, really doesn’t want him to get hurt, but no matter what he does, it won’t make a difference. They’ve proven time and time again that he’s too pathetic to stand a chance, and… it’s hopeless.
Well, he- he could try to, at the very least, minimize his suffering. There has to be something he can do for that, right?
He could try taking punishments for him, but they’d catch on pretty quick, and then they’d just start hurting Sentry to get to him more. He could do something worse after every mistake Sentry makes to make them put it in kind of perspective, but that would just prolong it.
He- he could… help them. Help them- help them break him. If Sentry’s not really there anymore, then he won’t be suffering. He-
A feeling of disgust wells up inside of him as he realizes what he was even considering. No, he can’t do that, he can’t do anything like that! He can’t help them do that to him, he- he just-
Cryptor forces himself to keep breathing, trying to get his shaking under control. He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to Sentry, but if push really does come to shove…
He’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.
There’s an almost numb feeling spreading through him, but he’s thankfully given something else to focus on when he hears Kyle’s quiet murmur.
The blond’s voice is strained, even breaking a little as he talks. “...'m sorry, Gav…”
He seems to be trying to shove the feeling down as he clears his throat, and Cryptor could almost swear that he’s near tears.
“I'll t-take you back to your locker. You'll say you- you'll say you learned your lesson if anyone asks. This is a one-time thing, okay?” His eyes narrow as he finishes, but with how he looks, he’s hardly threatening.
The words he’s saying aren’t making any sense, but Cryptor isn’t going to turn down a break when it’s offered.
“Y- yes, Master,” he nods. The confusion is eating away at his processor, but he forces himself not to show it. If he does, he’ll be dragged right back into the training room.
Kyle starts to take him back to his locker, and Cryptor keeps his gaze on the floor as they walk, trying to keep his mind away from Sentry and what might happen to him.
He’s shaking, trembling, and he shouldn’t be- showing emotion this much isn’t a good idea, but for some reason, he’s still just being taken away from the training room.
Stepping inside the small cell, he still can’t wrench his mind away. All this time, all this sacrifice to protect Sentry…
“... all of this to protect you, and it didn’t make a difference…”
Crying.
It’s something he hated before. A sign of weakness, of something that could get in the way of a task.
But now?
Cryptor wishes he was allowed to cry.
The door is abruptly slammed shut in front of him, Kyle using much more force than necessary. There’s clearly something going on with the blond…
His confusion intensifies some, but in the end, does it really matter? Kyle was right. There is nothing he can do. Sentry is going to be brought here and broken whether he likes it or not.
He can only hope that he breaks before he has to watch the one he loves do the same.
{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }
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— @futurewriter2000
My dumpling, my best friend you’re one of the most amazing people I’ve had the chance to meet and know and words fail me at just how much I love and adore you. I see you work so damn hard and I cannot ever be prouder. Now that the year is ending, I can’t even remember a time I didn’t know you. You’re smart and a total badass and deserve so so many good things in life. I hope you never quite lose the sight of who you are, remember just how gorgeous and charming of a person you’ve always been and no matter what people throw at you, you come back stronger than ever. I hope you find what you’re looking for.
— @im-a-writer-right
Ria, Ria, Ria. You’re an absolute pleasure to know and be around and please never ever think otherwise. I don’t know what prompted us to start talking but I’m glad for whatever it was. Our talks are so damn precious, I can’t even capture each and everyone even if I tried to. You’re talented, smart and hella capable and I’m so damn proud of you bby. So damn proud just for existing. I know exactly how difficult it is to do just that sometimes. I just want you to remember that wherever you are or might be doing at whatever point; that I am rooting for you, so many people are. We’re rooting for you to have your best life ever.
— @haracelovestruck
Harace, my sexy baby koala, you’re a wonderful wonderful person. I love love love talking to you, you absolutely make my day. Something I adore about you is that you aren’t scared to put forward your thoughts and opinions and oh it is such a refreshing perspective. I love making you slip for words over Remus- fuck fucl FUCK. I really hope you find your Remus, hopefully after you’re away from Korea. The fact that we’ve never not texted each other every single day for months on end warms my heart and I don’t intend on breaking our record anytime soon. You’re so very talented work hard day in and day out, I wish you all the success in your life. I look forward to you being your own boss in whatever you choose to do.
— @blisfvll
Jen, my favorite egg, my soulmate let me tell you just how much of a brilliant person you are. You’re talented, ambitious, crazy, beautiful, funny and awesome. I know we met recently but goddamn we click. I love our conversations no matter how weird they become after a point. And yearning! OH MY GOD the yearning. We can kill each other over ten times with it and I don’t think either of us will even complain. I just want to say that you should believe a lot more in yourself, cause you deserve that. I really hope you get to travel the world and find your Regulus and settle down in a cottage with all your friends. I love you, and look forward to some crazy scenario where we do end up meeting each other.
— @thebookwormslytherin
Muskan! You absolute gem, I love you so much! You are an amazing amazing friend and I’m so glad to have met you. You’re smart, you’re talented, you’re extremely sweet and drop-dead gorgeous. You deserve all good things in life and more. I hope people see just how precious you are and admire you because you’re just that lovely. Thank you so much for always having my back and for all the conversations we have.
— @approved-by-dentists
Clarissa, you talented sweet bean! You’re funny, smart and an absolute pleasure to talk to. You have a way to look at things differently and I admire you for being just the way you are. You have an amazing sense of humor, your memes are A+ and I’m so happy to see you and your blog grow! You deserve all the love and appreciation irl and here. I hope people know just how precious you are and you achieve all that you aspire for, I look forward to you living the life you want.
— @mango-pickle
Tanvi, mango you’re extremely talented, smart and a wholesome human bean. I love your puns and you take care of so many people around and spread positivity that just brightens my dash every single day. I wish you a whole lot of happiness and love!
— @pregnant-piggy
We haven’t talked in a long long time but I just want you to know that I love you very much and you’re an adorable goofball who just lightens my day. Your comments, reblogs, every smol conversation we have just warms my heart so much. I hope you have a great great day everyday cause you deserve it honey!
— @just-a-belgian-girl
Shayna! You’re an adorkable person and always a pleasure to converse with! Thank you for checking up on me occasionally and making my day a lil brighter. I hope you have days full of happiness and bliss, ily!
— @the-moon-and-the-book
Phoebe, you absolute sweetheart! Your enthusiasm is really endearing and you’re always a pleasure to be around! I wish you a whole lot of love and appreciation because you’re a gem.
— @leahstypewriter
It has been so long since we conversed! You’re an amazing amazing person, talented, smart and always amazing to talk to! You work so damn hard, I really hope you achieve all that you aspire for!
— @hollands-weasley
MY SIMPING BUDDY! I miss our conversations! You always have a way about things and you’re extremely talented and so very sweet. I hope the exam pressure doesn’t kill you a lot. Moreover, I know you’re gonna do great. Believe in yourself. I’m here for you whenever you need me. I wish you a whole lot of happiness and love.
— @emcchi
Em, my flower girl! I know I haven’t talked to you a lot recently but I just want to say that I love you and that you’re an adorable human bean who deserves all the love the world has to give!
— @angelinathebook
Lena! I know we don’t talk much, but I’d love to get to know you more. You’re so amazing, always willing to help others around you. I hope you realize that you deserve all the love and good things life has to offer and look forward to see you achieve all your goals!
— @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon
BLUE! It's been so very long since we conversed but I just wanna say that you're an amazing person and that your flirt asks have always brought me great amount of joy. I hope you know that you're beautiful in every way and I wish you all the happiness and love for the next and every coming year!
— @calltothewild
You've always kind of reminded me of my sister and you still do. You're an amazing, lighthearted person and have a thing about you that makes you an extremely sweet lil bean. I hope that the upcoming years are not hard on you and am currently sending all the love at your way!
— @nadseas
Nadia. You're an absolute queen and a bad-ass. You spread so much love around and you're truly truly precious. Ily and I hope you have a great next and all coming years!
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2020-thank-you-tag
Tag 5 or more people that you are thankful were in your 2020, that you’re thankful exists in a world that’s hard to live in. Whether that be through random reblogs on your posts, or people you have had full blown conversations with. Whether it’s just seeing them on your dash, or interacting with them.
Please spread this love. 2020 has been hard for so SO many of us.
I was tagged by @saecookie a while ago and you know, with holidays rn and the year ending there's a lot on my mind. There's a lot of people I'd like to thank even for just being there and popping up in my notifs. You all have been kind to me this year and I could not be more greatful.
So first off! Sae! My dearest! You popped up in my dms and I couldn't be happier. I dunno what it is but each time we talk, it feels as if I was catching up and getting excited with my old friend 💜and you're such a lovely person too💜 Thank you so much💖
@cultivated-man oh me oh my. How do I even say thank you to you. You're one of the best things that happened to me this year and no, I'm not exaggerating. The fact that I could write you letters and confide in you and you always make me feel comforted and like I'm not alone. Even though you live so far away, you feel so close to me. I don't know what I did to deserve you but I'm greatful. I love you 💜
@wir-ro we've known each other for a long time now and I don't tell you this enough, I'm afraid, but you're such a good person and such a good friend. I can't imagine not talking to you, it's become a habit, one that would be hard to get rid of. I love you and value you so much, you don't even know. I'm gonna dramatic-movie-hug you when we meet, I promise 🥺🙏
@smallkore Dasha! Thank you so much for noticing me first and foremost, I'm so happy I could bring some joy to your experience on this platform. You're a lovely person too, hopefully you can enjoy your time here more and have lovely holidays💕
@mfshirtballs even though we haven't been talking for a while! I enjoy getting excited and discussing fandom stuff with you so thank you so much for reaching out to me💖
@typestharns @onstoryladders @sceneric @mortallydeliciouschaos @gunsatthaphan @lostinbl @seekingstarlightinthecity @thehuns-bubble-tea @teh-ohaew @tao-moonb @nakyngs @zaintseeme @zeejade88 @bakugou-klancey-lance @iiasha @xuseokgyu @creepywitchy @soonhoonsol @cherry-magic @the-word-huntress @cynical-ravenclaw @annapanman @sonnets-of-beauty @vmn11 @yourletters @i-preen-for-oikawa @dragalafly @aarafox Thank you folks for making my tumblr experience so much fun! Whether it’s you showing in my notifs or me seeing your posts and reblogs on my dash, it always brightens my day ;u; Your blogs look lovely and I enjoy what you post so much, I want you to know that I appreciate it a lot! Thank you!✨ Hope you stay safe, drink water and have a beautiful holiday season ❤️
To anyone else that might have ended up reading this, I hope you can have safe and happy holidays. 2020 has been harsh and I'm glad it's ending but in a way I also think it was revolutionary. Hopefully we can all take good parts from this experience and enter 2021 with a positive mindset and new energy!
And once again thank you all so much for making this year a lot more bearable for me 💖✨✨
#tagged!#tag#tag game#have happy holidays!#merry christmas to all that celebrate it#stay safe#stay hydrated as always 💜#and once again#thank you#💖💖💖
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Title: Kismet {4}
Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor
Warning: Plot Heavy, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Flirtation, LOTS OF DIALOUGE
Words: 4k
Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?
If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘 As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️
***Loosely Edited/Proofread***
***Interactive***
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 |
-Aliya-
You were groggy, and you knew why. Once you got in from your impromptu date, you were so aroused you had to immediately jump into the shower. You’d hoped the water would have helped alleviate the situation, but your multi rainfall showerheads only made your body more sensitive and hungry. So after as much resisting as humanly possible (two minutes), you decided to take care of it yourself. The only problem was once wasn’t enough, twice barely took the edge off, and by the time you made it to your fourth attempt, you were minimally appeased and still thinking about the man with the captivatingly blue eyes that were as deep as the ocean itself.
Sleep was not even an option, so you snuggled in bed wrapped in his sweater that cocooned you with his scent—a scent that you already loved. When you went through your phone, you nearly rolled out of your bed when you saw the four additions he’d added to your gallery. The four selfies were perfection. The lighting was on point, and each and every one of the photos showed how gorgeous he was. He had no bad angles, the sun loved him, the night loved him, and you were sure the rain, snow, sleet, and wind would too. No man should have that amount of gorgeousness. It wasn’t fair.
After spending way too much time gawking at his pictures, you found the pictures he’d had most likely have seen. When you looked through them, you wanted to die. The pictures definitely didn’t leave much to the imagination. You wondered what he’d thought when he saw them or even if he had to do a little self-gratification when he saw them or even when he got home. For some reason, you’d wanted him to have been overcome with desire for you, even though you weren’t sure just what the hell you were doing.
As you sat at your table with your friends for brunch, you tried to ignore the flashes of cameras from the tables within sight of yours. It wasn’t something anyone ever got used to. You always felt like you had to be “on.”
“It feels like it’s been years since we talked,” Amaya whined out as she gripped yours and Alicia’s hand. She was the dramatic one.
“I know. It’s crazy how dependent we are on our cellphones,” you added.
“Leece filled me in and told me everything,” Amaya began. She dropped her jaw and bugged her eyes for emphasis.
“Everything?”
“Yep, now for you to continue,” Amaya steered.
You groaned and exaggeratedly rolled your eyes. “I’m too hungry for this,” you whined as you flipped through the menu. You were starving enough to eat the entire menu.
“Welcome to Blue Café. My name is Will. What can I get you guys?”
The waiter in a blue apron had a great smile and an even better head of curls. He definitely could have been a model.
“I want something heavy. I drank a lot last night. Hmm, the split pea soup to begin, a cheeseburger with the works except for onions and mushrooms. Very well done, please and to drink ummm, a strawberry and mint lemonade,” you listed.
“All right, and you, ladies?”
Your friends ordered as you checked your phone to find Henry calling. It was at this moment you realized he’d programmed himself into your phone even with an ID pic. He’d really gotten comfortable with it. The amusement of his boldness had you smiling to yourself.
“So?”
Amaya’s voice had you putting your phone down after dimming the screen to give them your attention.
“We had dinner,” you blandly announced.
“So, you actually stayed.”
Nodding to Alicia’s inquiry, you continued. “I did. He said if after drinks and appetizers I couldn’t stand him, then I could go.”
“I guess you could stand him,” Amaya sarcastically slid in. You knew just what she was implying.
“Guess so.”
“How’d he look?”
Your smile spread before you could stop it. “Amazing, gorgeous. I have no words for how beautiful this man is,” you practically screeched as you tried to wipe the stupid grin off your face. It was too late to, though, they’d already seen it, and you knew they were judging.
“He’s not a piece of meat, Liya,” Alicia sarcastically chastised.
“Uggh, are you sure because I’d say he’s prime grade A man steak,” you said. As soon as the words were out, your friends laughed loudly, bringing the attention of those around you. Even though you tried not to, you had to laugh as well.
“He is fine. I’ve seen his movies. God him in spandex for Superman did it for me,” Amaya confessed.
You didn’t blame her, that man in spandex would do it for any woman.
“How was the conversation?”
Practicing some etiquette, you cleared your throat and sat back. “Good. Flowing, no awkward pauses except the stares and dirty thoughts that had me sweating like a horny teenager.”
Amaya snorted then fanned herself. “It would happen to me too.”
“How was he?”
Alicia always knew how to ask the right questions. You were convinced it was her superpower. You thought back to Henry’s smile and demeanor last night, and that had you smiling. “Eh-em, he was the perfect gentleman. He opened doors, pulled out chairs, was respectful to the servers, courteous, mannerable—he was good.”
The two of them exchanged looks that said this questioning wasn’t anywhere close to finished.
“What happened after dinner?
“We went for drinks.”
“Ooh, an extended first date,” Amaya sing songed.
“Eh, this wasn't a date. It was an exchange of phones,” you clarified.
“Did you get your phone?”
“I did, after the bar. Turns out, he looked through it and saw my semi-nude,” you announced.
“Which one?”
After showing them the picture, they giggled. “Oh, the suggestive nude, nude,” Alicia joked as she rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, now I’m weirded out. Not because I was pretty much naked but because he saw me pretty much naked and--.”
“—There is nothing between you now, and that makes it much harder to ignore because you want to rip his clothes off,” Alicia filled in like the mind-reading Aliya whisperer she was.
You rapidly nodded with your eyes widened; she got it. your laugh slipped out, and it made you feel like a raving lunatic. “Oh my god, this man has invaded me.”
“Sounds sexy,” Amaya said.
“It’s not,” you flatly corrected.
“It can be if you let it,” Alicia suggested.
You rolled your eyes again and fiddled with your phone. “Guys, he’s juggling two women.”
“You don’t know that,” Amya blurted out, the first to come to his defense.
“Explain two women blowing up his phone daily for a week and a half. Explain that. As a woman, I am not going to blowing up any man’s phone like that unless I’m sleeping with him.”
You looked between them and watched as they both came up with their defenses.
“That could be anything. Sisters,” Amaya suggested.
“He has no sisters, four brothers.”
“Brother’s wives?”
You narrowed your eyes and gave them the “do I look stupid” look, but they continued.
“Assistants, he is an actor,” Amaya added.
After kissing your teeth in the loudest way possible, you rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”
“Ask him,” Alicia advised.
“For what? There is no reason to. We are nothing to each other,” you concluded.
The two of them sat there quietly, looking at you as if you were a bold face liar. You didn’t care. It was your truth.
“When you got home, did you touch yourself?”
Your jaw dropped as you gaped at her. “Shut up!”
“Oh my god!” Amaya’s loud ass mouth brought all the eyes. You had to cover your face as they obnoxiously laughed at you.
“Enough. We’re done rehashing this,” you grumbled.
“Wait, one last thing. During dinner, did you ever get the impression that he couldn’t wait for it to be over or that this may be all about a conquest?”
You knew what she was doing. Amaya was not as slick as she thought she was. You rolled your eyes again and sighed before you answered. “No.”
“Okay.”
That was all she came back with as if her hypothesis needed no further defense. They always ganged up on you, and it was clear where they stood in this new situation, and it wasn’t with you.
Shopping followed your brunch, but that was cut short by the paparazzi hounding you after the third store you emerged from. Someone must have dropped the tip to bring them. It was a madhouse and an immediate good time killer. The three of you had to alternate your plan for a day of fun and finished it out with a drive to Santa Monica to enjoy the boardwalk. All in all, it turned out to be a really chill day, one that you’d needed more than you knew.
By the time you got back to your house, it was nearing six. Once in front of your door, your jaw dropped seeing a jaw-dropping floral arrangement sitting there. You didn’t know who it was from, but you had your suspicions. It took some strength, but you managed to get it inside to your kitchen. With it on the counter, you just stared at it. Under the light, it was even more beautiful than outside. After admiring the display for a few moments, you pulled the card from between the leaves and petals then read it.
-Aliya,
I hope this finds you well. I had a great time last night, and it was because you trusted me enough to give me time to prove why I deserve your time. Hopefully, this is just the first of many dates.
-Henry-
What started as a straight face turned to a small smile, which led to a full-on elated, goofy grin. He was unpredictable for sure and so damn polite. Damn the British; you thought as you buried your nose in the bouquet. You moaned and inhaled the aroma of flowers that looked like they’d cost a pretty penny. He was definitely working overtime, that was for sure. The question you had now was what exactly did he want.
Sighing, you took out your phone and opened up your messages prepared to shoot him a quick thank you text. With your finger hovering over one of the letters in your keyboard, you sighed again, feeling the overwhelming urge to call instead. After putting it on speaker, you sat in the barstool and waited two rings until Henry’s deep voice filled your kitchen.
“Hello?”
Your belly did backflips.
“Hi,” you whispered.
“Hi. How are you?”
“Good.”
You were desperately trying to recover from the unexpected reaction his voice had.
“Glad to hear it. I called you earlier.”
“Uh—I must have missed it. I was catching up with some friends.”
“Okay,” he replied.
Silence fell between you as each of you waited for the other to speak.
“Um, I wanted to call and thank you,” you began.
“For what?”
“The flowers I’m looking at. They’re incredibly beautiful.”
“Do you like them? The florist said the day after flowers should be subtle and sincere rather than flashy or extravagant,” Henry explained.
You smiled wider as you checked the mental box for him being considerate.
“Well, the florist knows what she’s talking about. They are perfect; you chose well.”
“Good. I’m glad you like them.” He sounded like he was smiling as widely as you were.
“How do you know where I live?”
He paused for a few moments before he spoke. “I had your phone for twelve days. I probably know more about you than most of the world.”
Those could have been the creepiest words you’d heard in a long time, and it was like your head was trying to figure out if you should take it as a red flag or laugh.
“Have I freaked you out?”
The way he said it sounded like he was finding amusement in it. You snorted and shook your head.
“Why would you say that? Just because you went through my phone and figured out where I lived to send flowers? No, isn’t that what normal men do?”
Henry’s laugh followed your words, and it drastically did away with any awkward tension that was in the air.
“With you saying it out loud, I can see how you’d be freaked.”
“To be honest, my initial reaction was shock, and then, strangely enough, it went away like this was everyday life,” you explained.
“I’m really not trying to freak you out; I promise,” Henry pressed.
“Then what are you trying to do exactly?”
The silence returned, and you wondered if he would even answer the question.
“Right now—I’m trying to ask you to have dinner with me tonight.”
You put your head on the cold granite of your counter and sighed out.
“We just had dinner last night.”
“I’m told, based on human physiology, we actually have to eat three or more meals a day in order to sustain,” Henry explained.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Don’t shoot the messenger.”
You smiled again and rested your chin in your palms.
“Don’t you have things to do?”
“I might, but I don’t care. I’d like to have dinner with you instead.” His conviction was so damn sexy. He wasn’t shy about professing his wants.
“What if I have work to do and can’t shrug it off like you, Superman?”
“I’m sure you can if you want to. Guess that’s the question. Do you want to? I take it you’re a woman who does what she wants when she wants no matter what. I doubt scheduling conflicts could keep you away from a dinner with someone you wanted to be at dinner with. Do you want to?”
He probably did well in school with debate. He spoke beautifully and had a way with words.
“I’m going to be at Taylor’s Steakhouse in Koreatown at nine tonight. I’ll wait until nine-thirty. Hopefully, I see you there,” Henry said before he hung up.
Pressing your fingertips to your eyes, you groaned loudly. “Oh my god!”
You stared at the flowers again and toyed with the petal of one of the blush-colored roses. The debate of the night wasn’t if you wanted to go or not. It was if you should or not.
By the time you were dressed, it was close to eight forty-five. You were sitting in your closet in front of the mirror, still trying to convince yourself to go.
“It’s no big deal, Aliya. It’s food, drinks, nothing more.”
Your words sounded sure, but your face looked anything but.
“Then why did you put so much effort in if it’s no big deal?”
You sat there going back and forth with yourself like a crazy person. For every pro, you had you quickly came up with a con. It was endless. When your phone rang, you expected it to be Henry but were relieved when you saw it was your grandmother.
“Oh my goodness, Gramaw. How did you know I needed you?”
“I felt your distress. What’s wrong?”
“I have a date, but I don’t know if I should go,” you blurted out.
“Date with who?”
She sounded shocked, and you didn’t blame her. It had been years since you’d spoken to anyone about a man, let alone a date. You spent the next ten or so minutes explaining everything to her, not leaving out one bit of information. You needed her to understand the situation now and give you the best advice.
“Wow,” she uttered.
“Yep.”
“Why exactly are you debating going? It sounds like this has been decided for you.”
“Uggh! Fate. I hate fate.”
Your Gramaw laughed at you. She was one of those old souls who firmly believed in fate, destiny, and all the hoopla around it. You, on the other hand, had been disenchanted by it all.
“Why do you hate fate?”
“It’s always been hanging around me,” you whined. Again she laughed.
“Oh honey, this is the first time fate has been anywhere near you. Other times has been sheer coincidence.”
“So, you think this is fate.” You’d be lying if you said the thought hadn’t flashed across your mind. It had, but you would never admit that out loud.
“It’s not for me to say. What do you think?”
“I think this is very unwelcomed. I think I don’t have the time or the energy for this. I think I don’t want these feelings. I think—I’ve never felt anything like this. I think--e’s beautiful,” you finished with a sigh.
“What is it that you want to do?”
You groaned because if you knew the answer to that, you wouldn’t have been calling her. You cursed and dropped back onto the floor to lay there until you’d gotten your shit together.
By the time you got to Taylor’s, you were late. You were always late. The time on your phone said he would be leaving in fifteen minutes if he hadn’t just gotten fed up and left already.
“Welcome to Taylor’s I’m Kimmie. Do you have a reservation?”
“Um—well, I’m meeting someone here.”
“Okay. What’s the party’s name?”
You looked around, making sure no one was watching then leaned closer. “Henry,” you whispered.
“Ha, yes, he did mention he was expecting someone. I should have put two and two together. He’s a celebrity, and you’re a celebrity. Duh,” she rambled. You didn’t know if she was anxious, nervous, or if it was her normal thing. She cleared her throat and spoke again.
“Right this way.”
It was like she was a completely different person. You followed her through the restaurant taking note of the exits. She lead you through a set of double wooden doors that led to a whole separate side of the restaurant. This area had its lights dimmed a little lower and looked more secluded. As you approached the table, you saw him sitting near a window sipping a drink. He looked nervous; it was adorable. You couldn’t help but smile. It was then he looked your way, and the moment it sank in, you saw him release a breath as if he’d been holding it the whole time.
“Enjoy your evening,” Kimmie muttered. It was then you realized you’d been standing in front of him, not saying one word.
“You came.” He sounded surprised.
“I’m sorry, I’m late. My Gramaw called, and I got caught up in conversation.” It wasn’t a lie per se. You didn’t need to tell him she had to talk you off the ledge.
Henry stood and walked to the seat diagonal from him. “It’s okay,” Henry began pulling out the seat for you. You sat and allowed him to push it in for you. “Truth be told, I would have waited past nine-thirty,” He whispered into your ear, giving you a hint of his cologne and what he was drinking in that glass. Bourbon. As he walked back to his seat, you tried to keep your thirst under control.
“Thank you.”
“You look very fetching,” Henry added.
“Fetching? Oh, the English gentleman is shining through tonight I see.”
Henry smiled widely, showing off his perfect teeth. “I’m always a gentleman.”
“Thank you. You look very striking,” you countered. He began blushing, and that blush had a shiver rushing through you.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Got a chill did you?” You could hear the cocky in his voice. The man had every reason to be.
“Sure did. This is pretty impressive,” you said, motioning to your surroundings.
“You’ve never been?”
“No. I don’t venture out a lot. I find four or five restaurants I like and stick with them.”
“So not so adventurous, huh,” Henry surmised.
“I’m too busy really.”
“Ah, the life of a mogul,” Henry teased.
“I am no mogul.”
“I think you are, someone important,” Henry concluded.
“Oh, I think there is more to the definition than that.”
“Maybe you’re right. What do you call yourself?”
“Aliya,” you joked.
“Cute.”
“Thanks for noticing, you teased. “I don’t think of myself the way others seem to think of me.”
“Welcome to Taylor’s. I’m Sam. I’ll be your waiter. Can I start you guys off with drinks?”
“I’m ahead of you by one, catch up,” Henry said, raising his glass.
“Um, how about a Negroni?”
“Coming up,” Sam said before he walked away.
“Another Guinness?”
“No, Bourbon,” Henry corrected. The way he said it sound so prime and proper. He sounded better than James Bond himself.
“Oh, Bourbon man too?”
“Tell me,” Henry urged as he sat back in his seat.
“Bourbon dry, hmmm. Only rich men drink it like that. Or men who come from money. They say the ice ruins the flavor of it, so they prefer to have it the way it’s intended. You’re sophisticated, fun, intelligent, and you value honesty and things right between the eyes. You don’t like games, and always know what you want. You might even be difficult and used to getting your own way and don’t know what to do when someone goes against it.”
His smile was so telling. You’d gotten it completely right.
“I do like getting my way,” he confirmed.
“I know.”
“What about you?”
“I usually get what I want. I’ve never had anyone not give me what I want,” you said. Henry laughed loudly.
“I bet.”
“What does that mean?”
“Sadly, men do not know how to go against a pretty face,” Henry clarified.
You stifled your laugh, letting out only a snort. “So that’s all you see when you look at me? A pretty face?”
The waiter came back just in time with your drinks. Henry looked speechless. He asked if you guys were ready to place your orders, but neither of you had even looked at the menu. When he left promising to be back in a little while, Henry spoke.
“I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to.”
“I’m not offended,” you said before you sipped your drink and moaned as the flavors filled your mouth. “This is good.”
“When I look at you, I don’t see a pretty face.”
“Oh no? So my face is ugly?”
“No!” He cleared his throat, then began again. “You’re very beautiful.”
“So just a pretty face then.”
He looked so flustered you wanted to bust out laughing. The longer you continued this teasing, you knew you’d end up laughing in his face. It was cute how panicked he looked.
“Aliya, you are drop-dead gorgeous. There is no lie about that, no mistaking it or looking past it. When I look at you, I see something I’m drawn to. There is something about you, this aura. I get the sense that you’re down to Earth, kind, smarter than anyone knows and deeply a good person.”
As you sipped your drink again, you smiled on the glass. He had a way with words for sure.
“You are good under pressure.”
“Was that a test?”
You shrugged with a smile on your face. “ If it was, you passed.”
Again Henry laughed and shook his head; he didn’t look angry though.
Throughout dinner, the conversation never stopped. You talked about everything from his family to acting and the experiences you both had in the industry. The longer you talked, the more you realized you had plenty of things in common. You laughed at all his jokes, but not because you felt like you had to, he was genuinely funny. Every time he spoke, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of his mouth, which led you to look at his neck and the peeks of hair on his chest. Your fingers tingled from the want to touch. You could listen to him talk all night. It was an exciting revelation, and you were interested in what other revelations you’d have before the night was through.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Hounded [1]
1. Pilot
Pairings: Bellamy x OC // Kane x daughter!OC
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: violence, series spoilers
Summary: After being locked away for eight months, Athena Kane alongside 99 other criminals is sent to the ground to find out if it's survivable. The ground was the dream, but who knew it would turn out to be a nightmare?
Author’s Note: Hii, this is the repost of my series Hounded! I’ve decided to have each chapter represent an episode. I just personally like the look of it way more and find it easier for me to follow along with while writing (and hopefully you find it easier to follow along while reading it). Please remember to note and reblog! It really helps me see interest and therefore update the story more often. Thank you! PS. If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please send me an ask with your @ and I will add you to my list!
previous chapter // series masterlist
The cement floor of my cell was cold against my legs, the sensation searing through the fabric of my jeans. I had sat here many times over the last few months, visualizing myself being blasted into space. It was a morbid thought, but one I could never seem to shake.
My cellmate Octavia let out a heavy sigh, pulling me from my thoughts. I examined her, lying across her cot on her stomach, her feet swaying back and forth in the air as she reread one of the few books she had for the hundredth time.
As I watched Octavia, an alarm began to sound within Skybox, causing Octavia to close her book and sit on the edge of her cot.
“What’s going on out there?”
I stood from my place on the ground, making my way over to our cell door. Peeking through the bars, I noticed guards piling in the main doors, opening cells and dragging people out of them.
“The guards, they’re removing people,” I spoke, my voice shaking.
Octavia stood up. “Moving people? Moving them where?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea.”
We both watched the guards remove more and more people before finally, two reached our cell. Octavia and I stepped back, allowing the guards to enter. The first guard to enter carried a case with him.
“Prisoners 395 and 530, stand facing the wall.” One of the guards said.
Octavia and I complied, as the other guard asked us to extend our dominant hands. Octavia extended her right arm, while I extended my left. The guards reached into the case, pulling out large metal wristbands and placing them around our wrists.
“What’s going on? Neither of us is eighteen yet.”
Eighteen. That was when we’d be up for reevaluation, the council deciding whether or not we’d be floated.
“No questions.” One of the guards responded, pulling me away from the wall. “Let’s go, both of you.”
Octavia and I exited our cell, the place we’d called home for nearly a year now, entering the chaos that was Skybox. There were long lines of teenagers, most younger than myself, on each side, on all levels. We followed the line all the way out of Skybox, into a long corridor.
“I want to speak with my father,” I said, turning to face the guard behind me. “Marcus Kane, he’s on the council.”
The guard stared at me, his face expressionless. “Keep moving.”
“No,” I spoke, a glare appearing across my face. “Where is my father?”
The guard pulled out his shock baton, extending it. “I said, keep moving.”
Not wanting to go through being shocked again, I took a deep breath, turning back around and continuing to follow the line. Eventually, the guards who had taken Octavia and I disappeared, more guards lining the path to wherever we were going.
The further I get down the line, I finally see it. One of the Ark’s guards were scanning identification cards before ushering them onto… a dropship?
A dropship.
“Holy shit,” I mumbled to myself. “They’re sending us to the ground.”
…
“Prisoners of The Ark, hear me now.” I listened on as Chancellor Jaha appeared on several screens within the dropship.
Octavia and I had been separated, sent to different levels of the dropship. Looking around, I didn’t recognize many faces, only a few from Earth Skills.
“You've been given a second chance, and as your Chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us, indeed for mankind itself.” He continued. “We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would've sent others. Frankly, we're sending you because your crimes have made you expendable.”
The sound of booing filled the dropship.
“The drop site has been chosen carefully. Before the last war, Mount Weather was a military base built within a mountain. It was to be stocked with enough non-perishables to sustain three hundred people for up to two years. If you survive this mission, your crimes will be forgiven, your records wiped clean.”
Chancellor Jaha continued on, though I began to tune it out. All I could think about was my father. Did he know about this? He had to have known, him being one of the Chancellor’s closet allies on the Ark.
As the thought of my father’s involvement drifted from my mind, the dropship jolted, sending my head forward, then back against the seat with brutal force. The dropship continued to shake, as screams filled the air.
“What’s happening?” A girl called out.
I had the same question.
The shaking lasted several minutes before finally, the dropship crashed. Everyone remained silent, unsure if we’d actually landed. After a few moments, people began unbuckling themselves, rushing towards the dropship doors.
I was one of the last to unbuckle myself, wanting to avoid the rush. By the time I had arrived, nearly everyone within the dropship was surrounding the door. As I peeked through the crowd, I spotted Octavia standing by the door, next to a taller boy I’d never seen before.
“Where’s your wristband?” I knew that voice.
Octavia spun around to face someone out of my view. “Do you mind? I haven’t seen my brother in over a year.”
While sharing a cell with Octavia, she’d told me many stories about her brother Bellamy. I almost wouldn’t have believed she even had one, if she didn’t bring him up so often. It was sweet though. I’d always wished I could’ve had a sibling.
That was against the law on the Ark.
“No one has a brother,” someone spoke.
“That’s Octavia Blake, the girl they found hidden under the floor!”
I watched as Octavia lunged forward, Bellamy grabbing her arm. “Octavia, no. Let’s give them something else to remember you by.”
By now, I’d pushed my way further through the crowd.
“Yeah?” Octavia asked, looking back at her brother. “Like what?”
Bellamy smirked. “Like being the first person on the ground in a hundred years.”
With those words, Bellamy reached over and grabbed the dropship door’s handle, pulling it down. There was a faint bang before the door slowly began lowering, creating a platform that led to the ground.
It was beautiful, more so than I ever could’ve imagined. The ground was covered in grass, just like I’d seen in books on the Ark. Trees surrounded us, nearly covering the clear blue sky above us entirely.
I watched as Octavia slowly made her way down the platform, looking back at her brother. He gave her a reassuring nod, and Octavia in turn took a deep breath before jumping off of the platform, her feet colliding with the ground.
We all watched her as she looked around, silent for a few moments. Finally, Octavia threw her hands in the air.
“We’re back, bitches!”
Cheers erupted through the dropship, delinquents spilling out around Octavia and running through the forest surrounding us. I slowly made my way down the platform, bracing myself as if I expected to burst into flames the second I touched the ground.
Octavia looked back at me, smiling. “What are you waiting for?”
I jumped from the platform, my boots meeting the hard ground. “Oh my god… We’re really here.”
Octavia squealed, pulling me in for a hug. “No more tiny cells and uncomfortable beds for us.”
“Well, I imagine uncomfortable beds aren’t quite out of the picture yet.” I laughed.
“You’re probably right.” Octavia shrugged with a giggle.
Octavia rushed off to catch up with Bellamy, while I stood in place, taking everything in. As I looked around, my eyes fell upon the girl whose voice I recognized earlier; Clarke Griffin, my childhood best friend.
Clarke stood by the edge of a cliff, staring down at the map in her hands. A tall boy with medium-length brown hair stood next to her. Based on the look upon her face, I figured I should head over there.
“Clarke?”
Clarke turned around, her eyes widening. “Athena?”
I couldn’t help but smile. It had been a year since I’d spoken to Clarke, and she looked exactly the same today as she did then. I remembered hearing stories of Clarke being arrested, the reasons often varying, but I never actually thought those rumours were true.
“What’s with the map?” I finally asked.
Clarke took a deep breath. “Do you two see that peak over there?”
Both I and the boy nodded.
“Mount Weather,” Clarke said. “There’s a radiation-soaked forest between us and our next meal. They dropped us on the wrong damn mountain.”
“Please tell me you’re joking?”
Clarke shook her head. “I wish I was.”
“We’ve got problems-” Wells Jaha, the son the Chancellor, spoke as he reached our little group. He stopped as his eyes landed on me. “Athena?”
I blinked, confusion setting over me. “Wells? What the hell did you do to get sent down here?”
“Don’t ask.” Wells shook his head, before continuing. “We’ve got problems. The communication system is dead. I went to the roof. A dozen panels are missing. Heat fried the wires.”
“Well, all that matters right now is getting to Mount Weather,” Clarke responded, marching closer to the dropship. She spread her map out on one of the wings. “See? This is us.” Clarke pointed to a spot on the map. “This is where we need to get to if we want to survive.” She moved her finger across the map.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” Wells asked.
Clarke’s face turned pale as she looked away.
Wells sighed. “Your father.”
The two remained silent, as another boy with a pair of goggles strapped to his head approached. He leaned over Clarke’s shoulder, surveying the map.
“Cool, a map.” He spoke, looking Clarke up and down. “They got a bar in this town? I’ll buy you a beer.”
Wells lightly pushed the boy back. “Do you mind?”
“Woah.” The boy spoke, holding his hands up.
“Hey, hands off of him.” I turned to see a group of boys approaching. “He’s with us.” The rest of the delinquents were also gathered around us.
“Relax,” Wells spoke, stepping back. “We’re just trying to find out where we are.”
“We’re on the ground,” Bellamy spoke. “Is that not good enough for you?”
“We need to find Mount Weather. You heard my father’s message. That has to be our first priority.”
“Screw your father,” Octavia called out. “What, you think you’re in charge here? You and your little princess?” She was staring at Clarke.
Clarke shook her head. “Do you think we care who's in charge? We need to get to Mount Weather not because the Chancellor said so, but because the longer we wait, the hungrier we'll get and the harder it’ll be. How long do you think we'll last without those supplies? We're looking at a twenty-mile trek. So if we want to get there before dark, we need to leave now.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Bellamy responded. “You two go, find it for us. Let the privileged do the hard work for a change.”
Everyone around us cheered.
“You’re not listening, we all need to go!” Wells urged. “Athena?”
Before I could respond, another boy spoke. “Athena Kane? You’re Marcus Kane’s daughter!”
“Your father floated my mother!”
“And my father!”
“Mine too!”
I looked at Wells, narrowing my eyes.
Wells shook it off. “We have to go, now.”
“Look at this everybody,” A boy stepped forward. “The Chancellor of Earth.”
“You think that’s funny?” Wells asked.
“No,” The boy responded, kicking Wells in the leg and watching him fall to the ground. “But that sure was.”
Cheers erupted through the forest, people begging them to fight.
“Come on, Wells.” The boy egged him on.
Wells stood up, getting into a fighting stance. Before any swings could be thrown, the medium-length haired boy jumped from the top of the dropship, landing between them.
“The kids got one leg.” He spoke to the boy. “Why don’t you wait until it’s a fair fight?”
“Hey, spacewalker!” Octavia called out. “Rescue me next.”
People began to laugh, the crowd dispersing. Bellamy grabbed Octavia’s arm, pulling her away.
“Uh,” The boy spoke to Clarke. “So, Mount Weather? When do we leave?”
“Right now,” Clarke replied, looking at Wells. “Finn and I will be back tomorrow with food.”
“How are the two of you going to carry enough food for a hundred people?”
Finn looked around, grabbing goggles boy and another. “Four of us.”
“Sounds like a party!” Octavia had rejoined the group. “Count me in.”
“What are you doing?” Bellamy asked.
Octavia rolled her eyes. “Going for a walk.”
Clarke suddenly reached for Finn’s hand. “Were you trying to take this off?”
The wristband.
“Yeah, so?”
“Well, I don't know. Do you want the people you love to think you're dead? Do you want them to follow you down here in two months? Because they won't if they think we're dying.”
Finn nodded. “Okay.”
“Now, let’s go.”
“Wait,” I spoke up. “I’m coming with you.”
Clarke grabbed my hand, leading me away slightly. “I need you to stay here.”
“Why?”
“Wells can hardly walk and I need someone to help him keep an eye on things here. I know it’s been forever since we’ve talked, but I trust you a hell of a lot more than anyone else here.” Clarke spoke, her eyes shifting to Wells for a moment.
I smiled. “I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment.”
She smiled back. “You got this?”
I nodded. “Be safe.”
Clarke and I made our way back to the group. She grabbed a bag before looking at Wells, who sat on the ground leaning against the dropship. “You really shouldn’t have come here, Wells.”
With that, Clarke headed off into the forest alongside Finn, Octavia, and the two other boys I’d yet to meet.
I looked at Wells, frowning. “Let’s get you into the dropship so you can rest your foot in peace.”
…
A few hours later, I found myself returning to camp after going on a water run, my efforts having been futile. Just as I was about to reach the camp, I spotted Wells gathering sticks. He had also been searching for water the last I’d seen him.
“No luck?”
Wells looked up, startled. “No, you?”
I shook my head. “There’s gotta be water somewhere.”
“Just not anywhere near us,” Wells sighed. “Want to give me a hand with these?”
I picked up a pile of sticks, following Wells towards the dropship. We began dropping them in an already started pile when footsteps came up behind us.
“Find any water yet?” It was the same boy who had tried to fight Wells earlier. I recently learned his name was John Murphy. He stood beside another boy, also named John.
“No, not yet-” Wells paused, his face going pale before he quickly pulled himself back together. “I’m going back out if you want to come.”
I followed Wells’ gaze, spotting something carved into the dropship: first son, first to dye.
“You know, my father begged for mercy in the airlock chamber before your father floated him,” Murphy spoke, his eyes narrowed in on Wells.
Wells shook his head, pushing past the pair. “You spelt die wrong, geniuses.”
I attempted to follow Wells, though both boys blocked my way. “Where do you think you’re going? Don’t think we haven’t forgotten about what your father did.”
Shaking my head, I took a step back. “That was my father’s doing, not mine. The same goes for Wells. Feel free to take it up with them when they come down here though. I’ll be the last to stop you.”
Murphy looked me up and down for a moment before a smirk crept across his face. He didn’t say anything, simply stepping out of my way. I took it as an opportunity to join Wells, who still stood just a few paces behind them.
“We’re not safe here, Athena,” Wells whispered.
“No, we’re not,” I agreed. “There’s nothing you or I can do about it, not until Clarke and the others get back. We just have to lay low, watch each other’s backs, like the good old days.”
Wells smiled. “I’d give anything to go back there right now.”
I let out a small, shaking breath. “You and me both.”
…
Wells and I spent the rest of the afternoon searching for water, with no luck. As we came closer to the camp, I stopped. Noticing my absence from beside him, Wells also stopped, turning around to face me.
“Can I ask you something?” Wells nodded. “What happened with Clarke? I heard stories in lockup but never from anyone who had actually been there.”
Wells was quiet for a moment, kicking his feet around in the dirt. “Her father discovered a flaw in the Ark. That they’re running out of air. He wanted to go public with it.”
“But he didn’t?”
“Clarke found out and told me, and a few days later her father was arrested.”
My heart sank into my stomach. “You told your father, didn’t you?”
Wells shook his head. “It wasn’t me, but Clarke thinks it was.”
“So he was floated?” I was having a hard time processing all of this.
“Yeah,” Wells responded. “Clarke saw it happen, and then she was arrested too.”
I shook my head. “I had no idea…”
“That was kinda the point,” Wells mumbled.
I frowned. “You haven’t told Clarke it wasn’t you, have you?”
“I can’t tell her, Athena,” Wells said, not able to look me in the eye.
“Why not?”
Wells once again fell silent. “It was her mother.”
My eyes grew wide. “You’re sure?”
“It wasn’t me and I’m the only one Clarke told. Do you really think she’d expect her mother to turn her father in?” Wells asked. “I can’t tell her. It would break her, especially now.”
“So you let her hate you…”
Wells frowned. “Better than her hating her mother.”
I smiled softly. “You’re a really good friend, you know that?”
Before Wells could respond, the sound of screams filled the air. They were coming from the camp. Both of us looked at each other before hurrying our way back. By the time we arrived, there was a large crowd surrounding the campfire.
We both pushed our way through the crowd, spotting Murphy prying off a girl named Fox’s wristband. She winced as the wristband popped off, and Murphy tossed it into the fire.
“Who’s next?” Bellamy asked.
“What the hell are you doing?” Wells asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
Bellamy smirked. “We’re liberating ourselves. What does it look like?”
“It looks like you’re trying to kill us all.” I hissed.
“The communication system is dead. These wristbands are all we got. Take them off, and the Ark will think we're dying, that it's not safe for them to follow.” Wells added.
“That’s the point, Chancellor,” Bellamy replied. “We can take care of ourselves, can’t we?”
Everyone around them cheered.
“Do you think this is a game? Those aren't just our friends and our parents up there. They're our farmers, our doctors, our engineers.” Wells shouted, looking around the crowd. “I don't care what he tells you. We won't survive here on our own, and besides, if it really is safe, how could you not want the rest of our people to come down?”
“My people are already down here,” Bellamy replied. “Those people locked my people up. Those people killed my mother for the crime of having a second child. Your father did that.”
Wells shook his head. “My father didn’t write the laws.”
“No, he enforced them, but not anymore, not here. Here there are no laws. Here, we do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want. Now, you two don't have to like it. You can even try to stop it or change it, kill me even. You know why?” Bellamy’s smirk only grew wider. “Whatever the hell we want.”
“Whatever the hell we want!” Murphy cheered.
Everyone began chanting around us, repeating those five words over and over again. I couldn’t believe it. How could they all be so stupid? So selfish? They were going to get all of us killed.
Suddenly, I felt a speck of water hit my bare arm. Then another, and another. Then, water began falling from the sky rapidly.
“It’s rain,” A girl called out. “Real rain!”
The cheering began once again, as I lifted my head to stare at the sky, letting the rain wash over my face. It was as if all of my previous worries washed away for a few moments.
“We need to collect this,” Wells spoke up, yanking me from my bliss.
Bellamy smiled. “Whatever the hell you want.”
~
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Behind Closed Doors Chapter 1
Word Count: 2176
Story Summary: After a drunken night together Emma and Regina seem to fall into a hidden relationship. Dinners that aren't quite dates, nights together that they pretend never happened. No one knows, and it's perfect. Though it seems somewhere along the line Regina started to feel more than she ever imagined she would.What will happen to this relationship, as well as their friendship when Emma brushes it off as casual and begins to date Killian? A heartbroken Regina and an oblivious Emma attempt to fix it. What if people find out what happens behind the closed doors of Regina's home? Can Regina win back Emma's heart?
Characters For This Chapter: Regina x Emma, Belle, Ruby x Dorothy, Ashley, Snow White
Warnings For Story: Angst, Smut, Heartbreak, Swearing, Alcohol use
A/N: This is the start of my new Swan Queen fic! This is the first OUAT full-length fic that I've written in a very long time but I'm excited to work on it! The next chapter will have a lot of Swan Queen content and will fill in that bit of missing time. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!
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Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.
Taglist is open!
"Are you sure that's what you want to wear Emma?" Ruby asked her head falling to the side as she looked Emma up and down and fully took in the outfit she was planning on wearing.
They were upstairs in the loft and Emma was standing in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. Ruby had settled herself on Emma's bed with her arms spread out behind her and her legs dangling off the edge. She had arrived early, already dressed in one of her signature little red dresses and a pair of heels that Emma was certain she would never be able to walk in. She had insisted that Emma would more than likely need help to get ready and clearly she was starting to think she was right.
"What? What's wrong with my outfit?" Emma asked defensively, she glanced down at herself before looking back up to meet Ruby's gaze. She didn't see anything wrong with what she was wearing, sure it wasn't as nice or as flashy as Ruby's but Emma hadn't exactly had the time to go out shopping for dresses since she had come to Storybrooke.
"It's just-" Ruby paused and let out a sigh. "It's what you've been wearing all day, you know to work. I don't think a white t-shirt and jeans exactly screams girls night out."
"I mean, I might have a nicer shirt." Emma shrugged as she tugged at her top trying to think of what she had in her wardrobe.
Before Ruby could say anything on the subject they heard the front door open downstairs. Ruby sat up and eagerly looked down over the barrier to the bottom floor. Belle had walked in and was now pulling the door closed behind her. She looked around the apartment before Emma's voice rang down the stairs.
"Up here, Belle."
Belle looked up and smiled when she spotted Emma at the top of the stairs. She made her way up and dropped down onto the bed next to Ruby, tucking her legs up underneath herself.
"Belle please tell Emma she needs to change into something more appropriate for a night out," Ruby said gesturing to Emma's outfit as she turned to face Belle.
"I mean, maybe something different wouldn't hurt." She smiled politely. Belle herself was wearing a pale yellow dress that hung just below her knees. Emma couldn't help but think that it fitted her personality perfectly.
"Okay, okay fine. I'll go find that shirt." Emma rolled her eyes throwing her wardrobe open.
She dug through what little clothes she had brought with her from Boston until she found what she had been looking for. It was a silky blue shirt she had only worn once. It was different than her usual style and had been pushed to the back of the wardrobe. A strange warmth swelled up in her chest as she stared down at the shirt but shook her head and shoved the feeling down. She pulled it off its hanger and held it up in front of her, turning to show it off to the others.
"Better?"
"Wow, that's actually really nice." Ruby sounded surprised as she nodded, reaching out to run a hand along the shirt and feel the soft material.
"Where did you get that?" Belle asked.
"Oh um," Emma stopped to clear her throat. "Regina actually."
"Oh." Belle and Ruby exchanged a questioning look and seemed to both have the same idea in their minds.
"She gave it to me after an incident with a cup of hot cocoa." Emma quickly explained before they could get any more ideas.
"Well put it on so we can leave. The others are waiting for us at the bar."
Emma quickly threw off her t-shirt and slipped the shirt over her head. It was surprisingly comfortable and Emma was starting to wonder why she hadn't worn it again before today. Part of her knew exactly why she hadn't. Once she was ready she grabbed her phone and wallet, putting them both into her jean pockets.
"Let's go then."
~~~
Emma stepped out of the Bug onto the footpath outside The Rabbit Hole. The air outside was bitter and she was starting to wish that she had taken her jacket with her. She could feel goosebumps pricking up across her skin and she shivered. The shirt was pretty but the material did very little to fight off the wind. Ruby moved around the car, Belle's hand clasped tightly in her hand as she pulled her behind her. She slipped her arm through Emma's and lead them both towards the main entrance.
"Someone's eager." Emma laughed.
"I'm going to make a wild guess and say someone invited Dorothy tonight." Belle chuckled.
"What? No. I mean yes. I mean she's just a friend." Ruby came to a sudden stop still not letting go of either of them and stumbled over her words. Even in the dark Emma could see the blush creeping up across Ruby's cheeks.
"Oh of course. Never suggested anything else."
Emma wasn't surprised at the crowd inside the bar, she had been to the Rabbit Hole plenty of times on a Saturday night and it was always the same. The heavy bass of the music, the constant flow of talking and the clattering sound of the pool tables filling the building. Crowds of people were standing all around, groups huddled at the bar waiting for their drinks while others danced throughout the room seemingly not caring who was watching.
"Guys over here!" A voice cutting through the crowd caught their attention.
Emma spotted Ashley waving them over to the table her and Dorothy had managed to secure in the middle of the bar. They pushed their way through the crowd and Ashley stood to greet them. She threw her arms around Emma and she happily returned the hug. Ashley's skin was warm to the touch and Emma caught the faint scent of alcohol when she moved past her to hug the others. Already there were empty glasses on the table and Emma guessed Ashley was already tipsy.
"Hello, guys." Dorothy nodded at them. Dorothy was the newest addition to the group and it seemed she was still adjusting to her new world. Emma liked her but she was still unsure about most people in the town, though she had taken quite a shine to Ruby, and Ruby had certainly taken an interest in her. She quickly hopped up onto the barstool next to Dorothy and immediately they fell into a conversation with Ruby leaning in as close to her as she could.
Emma took a seat next to where Ashley had been sitting and examined the glasses on the table. Cocktail glasses that still had a faint trace of the golden liquid that had been in them. She tried that particular cocktail in here before but the sickly sweet honey flavour hadn't been to her taste.
"A round of cocktails or shots to start us off?" Ashley asked the group taking back her seat.
"Seems like you've already started." Emma laughed. "But I think shots."
Everyone else at the table nodded in agreement and Belle managed to catch the attention of the waitress to order the round. She nodded and turned back towards the bar to get their order.
"I'm so glad you organised this Ruby, I've barely left the house since Alexandra was born and I really needed this," Ashley admitted.
"Always happy to help." Ruby hummed. "Especially when it comes to nights out."
"Here you go." The waitress returned and set the tray of shots down on the table in front of them. "Enjoy."
"Thank you," Dorothy said reaching forward to grab one of the glasses.
Once everyone had taken their glasses Belle raised hers up in the air.
"Here's to girls night."
"And hopefully many more," Ruby added.
~~~
"I'm going to get another drink," Emma announced pushing herself down from her chair with only some difficultly. "Can I get anyone else anything?"
It was nearing midnight now and their table had slowly been filling up with empty glasses to the point that the table was now cluttered. Ruby and Dorothy had slipped away from the group and were now playing pool on the opposite side of the bar. Emma was willing to admit that she might have had one too many, the warm, fuzzy feeling clouding her mind. It had been a while since she had gone out drinking with anyone and the night out was fun.
"I really shouldn't," Belle said shaking her head.
"Same here." Ashley agreed pushing the now empty glass of her last drink away from her.
Emma nodded before making her way through the crowd to the bar. It was still as busy as it had been when they arrived but people had now stopped arriving and she was sure it would start to quieten down soon enough. She could feel herself swaying in place as she stood at the counter and decided to take a seat on one of the stools while she waited for her order.
"Are you really sure another bottle is a smart idea, Miss Swan?"
The familiar voice broke Emma out of her daze and she spun around almost slipping from her seat. Her heart stopped for a moment at the smirk that met her when she turned. She could feel the dark brown eyes raking up and down her outfit and suddenly she was glad she had changed after all.
"Well, I didn't take this as your usual spot." Emma teased returning her smirk.
~~~
Regina finally gave in to the assault on her front door that had woken her only moments ago. She threw back the duvet and stood up, cursing whoever it was that had woken her when she felt the cold bite to the air. She flicked her wrist and watched a purple cloud envelope her. Once it had faded away she was fully dressed. She took a quick moment to examine the dark blue dress in the mirror before slipping out of the room towards the front door.
Once she reached the hallway she peered out of the window with a direct line of sight to the porch. She gritted her teeth when she saw who it was. Why was she even surprised any more?
She reached for the door handle and flung it open.
"If it's another sleeping curse you're begging for I'm very close to being happy to oblige."
Snow's face was flushed and she had a wild look on her face. She completely ignored Regina's comment and immediately started talking.
"Emma never came home last night." The words seemed to all come out in one breath and Regina could hear the worry lacing her frantic tone.
"And that's my problem how exactly? I'm the Mayor, not the Sheriff if you want to file a missing persons report call your husband." Regina snapped.
She moved to close the door but Snow quickly caught it and pushed it open again. Regina rolled her eyes but decided not to fight it further knowing she wouldn't get much further.
"Look Regina she went out with Belle and Ruby last night, they said she was really drunk and then suddenly she had just left. We haven't heard from her at all."
"So what you're telling me is, you woke me up at this god awful hour because your daughter got drunk and probably stumbled home with someone? She's a thirty-year-old woman Snow, give her an hour or two to sober up and I'm sure she'll find her way home."
"Just please Regina, if you see her tell her to call me. We're worried." Snow pleaded.
"Yes. Fine. Whatever. Can I go back to bed now? Or is there some more useless information you want to burden me with?" She questioned.
"No, I'm sorry to disturb you, Regina."
"Wonderful."
Regina let the door slam shut and gave a sigh of relief when she heard Snow's steps retreating across the porch. If Snow White had been insufferable as a child she didn't have words for what she was now. She honestly believed that anyone that judged her for becoming the Evil Queen simply hadn't spent time with Snow.
Ever since Emma had come to Storybrook and the curse had been broken both her and Charming had gotten worse. It seemed since they missed out on the first 28 years of Emma's life they were trying to make up for it now. It had made them the worlds worst helicopter parents to a thirty-year-old woman. It now apparently also included treating Emma like a teenage when she more than likely just stumbled home with a stranger. Or someone closer to home.
Regina turned around to see Emma descending the stairs, Regina's silk black dressing gown wrapped tightly around her. Her blonde her falling around her shoulders in loose curls was a hard contrast to the dark colour but it suited her.
"Thank you. For not telling her I was here."
Taglist: @thewaywardimpala @waknatious @sapphiccyanide
#once upon a time#once upon a time fanfic#once upon a time fandom#once upon a time fanfiction#ouat#ouat fanfiction#ouat ff#ouat fandom#swan queen#swan queen fanfic#swan queen fandom#swan queen fanfiction
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The BH 90210 Rewrite. 1x15: Palm Springs (AKA A Fling in Palm Springs)
Rewrite Masterlist
Read the previous chapter here!
Chapter Summary: The gang heads to Palm Springs for President’s day weekend.
Warnings: swearing probably, lots of fluffy feelings, mentions of sex.
Words: 2,900
My work is not to be reposted and/or edited without my expressed written consent. (Reblogging is fine and encouraged!!!)
Feedback is incredibly appreciated!
A/N: Hope everyone enjoys this week’s episode! We are going to be skipping the next one but Laverne the gum-chomping waitress WILL make an appearance at some point in the series, so don’t worry. Next week the reader moves out with Brenda and deals with Class President election!
-
“You’re really gonna stay and work all weekend?” You launch yourself backwards onto the kitchen counter, the cold marble against your legs, “Kelly says anybody who’s anybody goes to Palm Springs.”
“You’re talking to Kelly again?” Your brother cocks an eyebrow at you as he cuts himself a brownie, stuffing half of it into his mouth.
“Well, no… Kelly told Brenda who told me— but what does it matter?” You steal the brownie pan from his other hand, and place it out of his reach, “Just because it’s from a secondary source doesn’t mean it’s not true. It’s a ritual. Like the geese flying south or something.”
“How do you expect to get there? It’s not like you have a car, or a bike, or can afford a plane ticket.” You stay silent for a moment, then give him a pleading, rosy smile. “Oh, no. No! You’re not taking Duke to Palm Springs.” Duke was Eric’s beloved cherry red ‘48 Ferrari. It was given to him on his eighteenth birthday, previously loved and adored by your father, and his father before that and blah blah blah.
“Please? I always take good care of it!” You beg, “I’ll even fill up the tank when I get back! What is it, a dollar per gallon?”
“Sorry. No way. You’ll have to ask Brenda,” he shrugs stubbornly, reaching around you and swiping the pan while you're preoccupied with the argument.
“I can’t! She’s riding with Kelly!”
“Then ask Brandon— look, this isn’t my problem, Y/N/N. Either find another ride or don’t go.”
-
“It has the original interior, the original grille work. It’s gorgeous,” Brandon enthuses, slipping his hand under your shirt and to your sides as you both lie in the backseat of Mondale, mid make-out session. Well, you were making out. Until he decided to stop it to talk about that car he wanted. Like guys often do. “and it’s only twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“Twenty-five thousand? Brandon! No wonder your dad won’t buy you that thing. Dads are cheapskates, It’s just a fact of life.”
“Dylan‘s dad bought him a Porsche.”
“Babe, Dylan’s dad is facing a grand jury indictment,” you stifle a giggle as you pop a button off of his shirt.
“But my dad knows how hard I work,” Brandon grumbles, “And to top it all off, last night Nat told me that I can’t go to Palm Springs this weekend with you, and all of my friends because his sister is sick and now I have to work all weekend. But hey, you don’t hear me complaining, do ya?”
“Yes. Yes I do.”
-
“Hey there!” You’re greeted almost immediately by Brandon upon entering the Peach Pit, who’s over at the far end of the counter with a little blond boy. “What a nice surprise. I thought you’d be in packing mode for your trip… but knowing you, you packed early, didn’t you?”
“Always do,” you nod, taking the seat in front of him. You hand Brandon a modest wad of cash and kiss his cheek, making him smile. He mumbles a thanks as he stuffs it into his pocket and hands you a menu.
“Hey… do you ever get the feeling that the entire world is flying in first class, and you’re stuck with a folding chair in the baggage compartment?” He takes your hand in his, leaning over the counter.
“Never,” you deadpan. He studies your face, causing you to giggle into his shoulder.
“Liar!” He laughs genuinely, his eyes crinkling at the edges,“you total liar!” He straightens himself out, “This is Curtis.” He gestures to the adorable little boy beside you, “the hangout king of Beverly Hills.”
“It’s a free country, I can hang out if I want!” The little boy whines.
“Hey, hey, relax, sport. No one said you couldn’t… but does your mom know how much time you spend here?”
“She’s the one that brung me! I told her the food’s not that good," Curtis criticizes, mowing down a plate of greasy french fries.
“See what I have to put up with to make a buck?” Brandon teases, grabbing a plate of food from the kitchen and dashing off to deliver it to a table. Once he’s gone, Curtis turns his stool to you.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
“Oh! Well, uh… no. But he’s… not not my boyfriend,” you waffle. Curtis narrows his eyes, confused. “Look, it’s complicated, kid."
“You give him that friendship bracelet he’s wearing?”
“Yeah, actually… he told you about that?”
The kid dodges your question, chewing on the straw of his drink, “Why aren’t you wearing one?”
“It's a long story, Curtis. Certainly one you don't have time for, okay?"
"I got plenty of time."
-
You couldn’t ride with your brother, you couldn’t ride with Brandon, there’s no way in hell you’re riding with Steve… that left one option. Brenda, Kelly, and Donna.
“Donna,” Kelly giggles, “we’re not going to Europe. You don’t need three bags!”
“Kelly, I have to dress according to the guys we meet. I mean— high school guys, college guys, grad school guys, dropout guys— you cannot dress the same for all guys. No,” Donna shakes her head disapprovingly, like she just dropped a fashion truth-bomb on all three of you. To be honest, though, she kind of did.
“I guess she has a point,” you laugh, propping yourself up against a locker, “Bring everything.”
Then Steve saunters over, in his usual confusingly patterned button-down, an agitated look spread across his face. He nods down to the innumerable bags on the floor.
“What, are we going to France?” He scoffs, only taking a moment before continuing, “Will you guys come on? There’s gonna be a lot of traffic on the roads." Gee, wonder what’s making him so delightful this afternoon.
“Hey gang!” Oh no. David Silver? What was he doing here? “Are we going to have a blast or what? Huh?” We?
The rest of the group is just as lost as you are, exchanging silent looks of terror to the person next to them. Steve takes note of this and clears his throat.
“There’s been a uh, slight change in plans.”
-
“It’s weird, I mean I want to be with Dylan and everything, but part of me just wants to get it over with. Like I’m the last person that hasn’t done it yet." Brenda confides uneasily as you all stand against Kelly’s convertible, waiting as the tank fills up.
“Brenda… you are,” Kelly replies.
“No you’re not!" You assure her, "Look, Bren, you’re really gonna like it… I think." Ha. Like you know any more than she does. Donna nods in agreement.
“Yeah, totally… probably. Maybe? I—“
Kelly cuts Donna off, “Listen, who would you rather be with? Dylan McKay or David Silver?”
“Bren, Dylan’s a wonderful guy. You’re gonna have a great time! And you brought protection, so there’s nothing to be worried about!” You place a soothing hand on her arm.
“Right!” Brenda smiles, “I mean, I care about him, he cares about me, it’s gonna be great, right?”
-
“My grandparents collect anything they can get their hands on,” David guides the four of you, sans Brenda plus Steve, as you wander his grandparents' house. It’s definitely nice, definitely big… kinda smells like patchouli and sunscreen in the best way. “When I was younger I used to travel with them but my dad’s mad at them about something so I don’t see ‘em much anymore.”
“What’s he mad about?” Donna asks.
“Well, my grandparents like my mom and think it’s, y’know, bad he wants to divorce her... Come on,” he waves you all over to him as he escapes through the back door, “I saved the best for last.” You reluctantly follow behind him, your shoes clacking down the concrete steps and into the depths of his backyard. It was gorgeous— a huge pool, palm trees, brick-lined lounging areas. You could get used to this.
“Dude, we are definitely styling out here in this little desert oasis,” Steve grins, “David, I always knew you had potential.” No you didn’t.
“Thanks, Steve,” David begins to venture further back, “but you ain’t seen nothin’ yet! Look, if anyone gets in the mood, you climb up this little terrace here to this hidden nook and nobody will bother you.” You step up another flight of brick-lined concrete stairs and through a small patch of greenery, to be met with a cute little private hot tub… with people in it.
“David?” The old woman gasps, clutching her small champagne flute.
“Grandma?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” The senior man, presumably (and hopefully) his grandfather groans.
-
“It was an amaaaazing trip!” David’s grandmother raves, pouring pretzels into a glass bowl as the group is gathered around the kitchen island.
“It was indescribable,” his grandfather agrees excitedly, “we would dance every night under the stars.” He pulls Kelly from her stool, picking her up and spinning her around as if they were about to tango.
“Ooh! Can somebody pull the ice cream?” His grandma asks.
“Yeah, sure,” Donna smiles.
“Triple. Chocolate. Chip. I mean, If we’re gonna do it, we should do it right.” Steve chuckles politely at the woman, though he looks like he wants to put a gun to his head.
“Well, I’ve never seen so many old fogies on one boat in my whole life. I mean, a floating rest home is what it was!” His grandpa laughs heartily, getting ice cream bowls from the cupboard,
“Oh, Henry, that’s not so. But hey, one day we woke up on the boat and we both said ‘Let’s go home!’” Funny. That’s exactly what you were thinking. “I mean, we missed our little house in the desert.”
“We sure did,” Henry smiles happily, grabbing his wife’s jaw gently and planting a big smooch on her. “And lucky for us, we would have missed you if we didn’t cut our trip short!”
“Uh, well you guys must be really tired. Huh?” David chuckles awkwardly.
“Oh, we’re exhausted!” The woman nods, “but hey, who cares? I am so excited to see you! And to finally meet some of your friends! Hey! Why don’t we all stay up late, chow down on the snacks, and get to know each other?” Oh, joy.
-
“This way ladies,” David’s grandma guides the three of you upstairs, her hand on your shoulder. “You’re gonna go up these stairs, down the hall, first door on your right, and you are gonna love it.” You hop up the steps with Kelly and Donna, bags in hand.
“Did you guys hear her?” Kelly starts, opening the door to the room and throwing her bags on an empty bed. Hey, she acknowledged you. That’s a start. “She said she was gonna invite all the cute guys from the neighborhood over to the pool tomorrow!”
“Steve is not gonna like that,” Donna
“Oh, who cares?” Kelly snickers, “I wonder how Brenda’s doing.”
“‘Oh! Dylan, what beautiful eyes you have!’” You joke, throwing your hand to your forehead and bowing backwards.
“‘Oh, Brenda, you are so exquisite!’” Donna joins in, giggling.
“Barf.”
-
You splash your feet in the Silver's pool, crowds of people surrounding it. Overwhelmed by the vast amount of new people, you're off by yourself, kicking the water around, staring at your feet.
"You know, there's room on this raft for two." You look up to Steve, lying back on a giant inflatable alligator. Ugh, if only it was a real one.
"Why don't you ask your new girlfriends?" You point behind you to the two girls, who you could only think to describe as biker babes, lounging together. Porcelain white skin, spiked black bikinis, way more makeup than you need for a pool party. "They look pretty interested."
"Can you imagine what it would be like if you were interested? You know, me instead of Brandon?" You feign a gag, shaking your head.
"I don't really want to, Steve," you cringe dramatically as he chuckles, "but thanks for getting that thought haunting my dreams forever. Really appreciate it."
"Remember—" He wags his pointer finger at your face, eyes narrowing lightheartedly, "I saw you first." He puts his foot flat against the concrete wall of the pool, kicking off, but as soon as he's far enough— he guffaws. Of course he laughs at his own jokes.
-
"Dylan, hi!" You practically leap over to him in the foyer, your damp feet leaving faint footprints on the cold floor. "So?"
He shakes his head, brows furrowed ever so slightly, "So?"
"How'd it go?" You raise your eyebrows excitedly.
"How'd what go?"
"With Brenda!" He groans at that.
"Don't ask."
"Well, it's too late, I already did."
"What's with you girls?" Oh, this should be good. "You see a guy with another girl and you immediately think they're sleeping with her?! What is that?! I mean, every time a female customer goes into the Pit-- do you lose it at Brandon?"
"Can't say I do. They usually want him. But thankfully it's not the other way around… look, if this is about the other Walsh-- and McKay, it better be, or else I have questions-- just talk to her about it. Have an adult conversation."
"Easy for you to say, you're dating the king of good family values. The kid's a Hartley House episode."
-
You open the fridge in the kitchen, helping David’s grandparents scoop out ice cream. You fidget with the scoop in your hands before setting it down. After a devastating loss of Charades, you had to comfort your friends with ice cream. It was the only option, really.
“How do you guys do it?” They both look up from the bowls to stare at you. “The whole long-term relationship thing,” you clarify. “It’s just so… scary.”
“You’re right,” Henry nods, “It’s very scary. Trusting someone, with your heart, your intimate feelings. I mean, before we got married, Adele broke up with me seven different times. Running for the hills was our solution to every problem. Giving yourself to that person— trusting that they’re going to cherish you, to value you and every intimate part of yourself— that is the hardest thing.”
Adele jumps in, “And you have to accept each other for who you are. For every flaw and every perfection, you have to let the other person be who they are. But when you do find the person you can really be yourself with, who you can have fun with, and fully trust… it is the greatest feeling in the world.” She takes the scoop from in front of you and begins scooping. “Who is he? It’s not David, is it?”
You giggle, “No. No, it’s not David. His name’s Brandon, he’s—“ you can’t stop a grin from slowly breaking out on your face, “He’s great. He’s kind, and considerate, and totally crazy about me... but it’s still scary, y’know? My last relationship didn’t exactly end on great terms. And if I barely even liked the other guy but I was still totally obliterated by it ending… I can’t imagine how I’d feel with Brandon. I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life. I guess you can imagine how much of a major scare that is, huh?”
“Seven break-ups, sweetheart. I can imagine.”
-
"He even set up a meal plan for the kid! I can show you the security cameras if you want to see them," Nat indulges. You never thought you’d say this, but you were thrilled to be back in Beverly Hills. You missed your own bed, the Peach Pit… the cute waiter at the Peach Pit. And you’re thrilled to be eating something that isn’t ice cream.
"Oh, don't you dare! I cannot handle any more of that guy being good with kids or else he's gonna get me to procreate with him-- and nobody wants a bunch of little Walshes running around here," you snort, stirring your water mindlessly with the straw. Nat shrugs as he picks up an order.
“I could use the extra help!” As per usual, he booms out in laughter, walking away with the plate of food.
“What’s he so happy about?” You twist your head to the kitchen and you’re faced with your overtly-paternal and charitable lover.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just you fathering a sweet little homeless boy for the weekend,” you have to halt yourself from fawning over him. He’s probably the only teenage boy that would tolerate a little kid, let alone help them out like he did.
“He told you about that?”
“You mean how you not only befriended the little boy, but fed him for free, and made sure that his whole family would stay fed until they got back on their feet? Yeah, he might’ve. I mean I laughed, I cried— it was the feel-good story of the year, B.” He smiles at his feet as he ties his apron around his waist.
“I really missed you this weekend, Y/N/N.”
“Well, I’m here to stay now,” you smile as he kisses the top of your head.
“I’m a real lucky guy, you know that?”
“That’s funny. I was about to say the same thing.”
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Taglist: @be-patient-be-good @mpmarypoppins @bevelyhills90210 @blueoz @harleylilo88 @princess-ghost-alien @hueycat2004 @l4life @keepcalm-and-beyou @palefiregiver @bitch-imma-head-out
#beverly hills 90210#90210#bh90210#bh 90210#rewrite#brandon walsh x reader#brandon walsh#brenda walsh#shannen doherty#luke perry#dylan mckay#beverly hills 90210 imagine#beverly hills 90210 x reader#brandon walsh imagine#kelly taylor#david silver#donna martin#jason priestley
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Idiot Friends and Interrupted Kisses - Part 8: Thunder and Rain
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: We are not scared of Thor. Just not overly fond of what comes ahead of him.
Squares Filled: Picnic for @goodthingshappenbingo and This entire series covers slow burn for @marvelfluffbingo
Word Count: 1300ish
A/N: This series is written for @barnesrogersvstheworld 3k challenge - I hope you enjoy it Attie. - This isn’t the end. We still got an epilogue to go guys :D
Betaed by: @sebs-potato - thank you so much, Ida.
***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***
IFaIK Masterlist
Bucky wanted perfect. You deserved perfect. He knew that he would never be that, but he could make sure the moment of your first kiss was. He wanted it to be something that you’d both be able to look back on with fond memories. Bucky didn’t have very many of those but a big part of the newer ones he did have, you were a part of.
Most of Bucky’s other friends still, to an extent, felt like they were his friends because he was Steve’s friend. Steve had been the only one he felt had chosen him and that choice had happened so long ago, he sometimes wondered if Steve felt a little stuck with the guy that had taken the old Bucky’s place.
You never knew the old Bucky, and you didn’t even have a deep connection to Steve. Bucky knew you admired him and saw him as a friend, but something about you was different. You seemed to have chosen Bucky before Steve. You were his friend first and that made you different from all the other team members. You were special to him. Even more so now. He wanted you to feel that.
Which was why he had spent the entire day visiting local little stores he knew you loved. He had been to the farmer’s market for fresh fruit and a selection of cheese. He has been to the bakery for cake and bread and he had even broken into Tony’s storage again for another bottle of wine. He knew that one was going to bite him in the ass eventually but he also felt as if Tony owed the two of you that much after interrupting the last date Bucky had planned for the two of you.
He had packed everything up in a basket and raided the common room of the compound for blankets before he knocked on your door. Bucky had sent you a text earlier to make sure you didn’t wander off with Wanda and Nat as you sometimes did on Saturdays. So when he knocked you opened the door wearing a flowery summer dress and a huge smile, completely taking Bucky’s breath away.
“Hi,” you greeted, laughing with Bucky’s very unsubtle and very unintelligent reply.
“Wow.” Bucky pulled a face, internally scolding himself. Of all the things he could have said and that’s what he went with.
“Thanks, Buck.” You smiled, taking his free hand, “you look pretty damn good yourself.”
Bucky smiled, blushing slightly when you threw him a little wink. Had it been anyone else giving a compliment like that he would have been sure they had been lying, but he knew you. He knew you’d never lie to him about anything. You had been brutally honest with him about anything under the sun. If you said you thought he looked good, you meant it. Which was also the reason he had worn his hair in the half updo, you had complimented the other night as well as a shirt Natasha had helped him pick out earlier.
“Where are we going Bucky?” you asked, giving his hand a squeeze, clearly trying to prevent him from getting too far into his own head. You read him like a book which was one of the things he loved about you. You always seemed to know just what he needed and you never hesitated in stepping up.
“Just outside… Over the ridge, by the trees, I was thinking?” Bucky managed to get out, walking a little taller when you squeezed his hand again.
“That sounds great. It’s a beautiful day out” You sounded so happy and Bucky’s heart skipped a beat when he looked down into your eyes, shining up at him.
“Yeah. And hopefully idiot free,” Bucky grinned, holding the door open for you, making you laugh.
“Yeah. Let’s hope.”
Bucky led you through the field and over the ridge outside the compound, to the trees where he often found you reading in the summertime. This was your favorite place. Bucky knew that he just never knew why. So he asked you, after spreading out the blanket, unpacking the basket and sitting down across from you.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I can look down and see the compound and people working and training outside, but it’s hard for them to see me. It’s peaceful, but I still feel connected.”
Bucky suddenly felt bad, that he had followed you up here last summer and he lowered his head. He didn’t get to say anything through before you reached out giving his arm a squeeze.
“I feel at peace with you here too, Buck. I don’t mind sharing this spot with you. It’s nice to have a special place with you.” Your smile was so warm when Bucky looked up it felt as if he was being hit by the sun and he blushed a little again, causing you to giggle.
“I love this food. You really went all out,” you praised moving to lean against his side as you enjoyed one of the small cakes.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, holding you close.
“I feel at peace with you,” Bucky silently admitted, making you look up at him. He didn’t meet your eyes though. It was hard to look directly at you when he confessed things like this. “Not just up here. But everywhere. I don’t feel that often, but I do when I’m with you.”
“Oh, Bucky.” You reached up gently caressing his jaw and he finally looked down at you. It wasn’t pity in your eyes as he so often expected. Just love and adoration.
He slowly leaned down, rubbing his nose against yours. You giggled and he smiled widely as he kept looking into your eyes. He cupped your jaw, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb and he heard your heartbeat speed up. His was already racing as he leaned in and a loud crack of thunder suddenly sounded and it started pouring.
You squealed in surprise and the two of you pulled apart looking to the sky that had been clear and blue seconds ago. Lightning filled the sky and you started laughing, holding out your hands as your eyes stayed fixated on the sky.
“Looks like Thor stopped by for a visit,” you laughed.
Bucky couldn't take his eyes off you. The joy illuminated from you as you felt the fresh cool water on your skin. You were beyond perfect and suddenly Steve’s words rang through Bucky’s mind.
Maybe you shouldn’t look for the perfect moment. Maybe it being you and him is perfect enough.
“Screw it,” Bucky mumbled, before leaning closer to you again. He cupped your cheek with his hand, gently making you look at him.
“Buck…” you started, but before you could say anything else his lips were on yours. Kissing you sweetly. It took a second for you to catch up, but as soon as you did, you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer. You didn’t hesitate in letting him in when his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, silently asking for access.
The kiss went from sweet and hesitant to hot and passionate in seconds and you were both heaving for breath when you pulled back for air.
“Wow,” you muttered making Bucky laugh and he tenderly tucked your wet hair behind your ear.
“Maybe we should head home?” Bucky suggested and a mischievous smile spread across your face, making his heart skip yet again.
“Only if we can keep doing this.” You grinned before leaning in, kissing him again.
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Bucky Barnes Tag Team
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@nerd-without-a-cause @kimmiestrawberrykiwi
IFaIK tag team
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#mcu imagine#mcu fanfiction#ifaik
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