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seokiloquy · 2 years

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Chocolate Croissants - Tendou Satori

Au: Bakery/ Regular (timeskip)

Tags/Warnings: GN! Reader, excessive swearing

Word Count: 2.6k+

Looking back on your accumulated experiences and knowledge, you couldn’t fathom why you had ever chosen to become a pastry chef. Sure the food tasted good, but having to do anything other than bake in the kitchen of your run-down home was proving to be a drag.

You’d spend mornings starting a 5am, hiding in the back of your first floor, staring at the cracking walls. At the same time, you worked on batches and batches of dough till your hands either felt like they were drowning in thick oil or were dried to the bone. Then, you’d get out of your kitchen while everything baked and wipe all the surfaces clean in case of chipping paint or falling chiprock that might have ruined your clean-up from the previous night.

Once the clock hit 8am, it was time to open your door, get all the freshly baked goods on display, and put on a brave face while customers waltzed in to grab their croissants and coffees before work. You’d get to breathe before and after lunch until 4pm. Then at 7pm, you cleaned the shop, closed the door, and worked on more dough that would wait in the fridge until the following day. You’d relax for a couple hours, sleep for five, then repeat it all again and hope that your building didn’t collapse with you inside of it.

But hey, you made excellent croissants.

Due to your hefty schedule, going out was impossible unless it was for essential purposes. However, most of your ingredients could be bought in bulk without worrying about them going bad for a while, and you had a couple lovely workers that would go buy you anything else you might need. You hadn’t even noticed that the store that had previously been next door had moved and been replaced until the owner of the new establishment came to knock on your bakery door a half-hour before opening.

You were wiping off some fallen pieces of wall from one of your tables when he appeared, body pressed against the glass door as he knocked and waved to get your attention. The sight of a shadow at your door made you jump.

“Eh! Asshole, don’t do that!” You cursed, rushing to the door, towel and spray bottle in hand. “Your stained the glass!”

As you pushed it open, the man sprung back, jumping high into the air before dropping down and continuing to hop about. His white unbuttoned jacket bounced with him, flopping about.

Wiping the glass, furiously trying to get rid of the smudges left behind.

“Good morning, neighbour.”

“Neighbour?” You glanced to the shop next door. “Since when?”

“I started moving in a couple weeks ago. Did Pierre not mention it?”

“That man never mentions anything.”

“Figured.” He kicked the paved road before jumping to follow you as you walked inside. You didn’t invite him, but before telling him to leave, he was already talking again. His hands fell on his hips as he stared at your crumbling wall. “I was hoping to ask you about this. There’s damage on my end as well. Do you know anything about it?”

You sighed, ripping off another piece of the wall to expose the wood beneath it. “Not a thing. I asked Pierre when I started, hoping he’d patch it up, but nothing came. The building is at least a hundred years old. Who knows what people have done to it over that time.”

“I’ll try asking him myself then.”

An alarm rang in the back of the room, making you grumble and turn to the red-haired man. “You do that. You should also return to your place, I have to open, and customers will be arriving soon.”

“Sure thing,” He spun dramatically on his heel, one leg in the air. He paused by the door, however, straightening up as though he released he’s forgotten something. “Oh, before I leave. What’s your name?”

By the time he turned, you were already out of sight.

“Sir, for the last time, we don’t make hot chocolate here. I’m not sure where you got that idea but go somewhere else. Stop harassing my employees with a ridiculous request.”

“But online—”

“Online says jack shit! This is a bakery, not a ski lodge. Take your tourist ass somewhere else!”

The bell on your door chimed, making all eyes in your shop turn in its direction.

“Sorry!” It was your red-headed neighbour. “But I couldn’t help but overhear.”

Overhear? You looked at the wall, cursing Pierre under your breath at the sight of a hole letting in light from the other side.

The lanky man with his toque blanche and now buttoned double-breasted white jacket blinked at the tourist before you with wide uncaring eyes. “Sir, we share a building but are two different establishments. If you come next door we offer hot chocolate there.”

The man refused to apologize as he walked out, nose high in the air. Once gone, the rest of your guests returned to their food and coffee as if the incident never occurred. You couldn’t dwell for long, though. Soon, the door shut behind the pair, and you were running in search of anything to fill the hole with.

You used a piece of styrofoam to fill it, but before you did, you caught a glimpse of the shop on the other side.

The base wasn’t different from your own. A light off-white covered the walls, the decorative pillars were the same, and the layout was symmetrical. But then there were dark brown treats, displayed around every edge of the place with a couple of tables in the centre.

The smell of chocolate filled your nose, washing into your mind and pulling out memories you didn’t remember. Back home with your parents as they gave you treats for the holidays, various gifts for valentines day, and chocolate-filled croissants your mother would make you for your birthday.

Oh, how the taste seems to linger in your mind. Sadly you never managed to make them yourself.

Taking one last breath, you shoved the styrofoam into the thin wall and returned to work.

Later that evening, one of your employees who worked at the counter came to you as her shift was about to end and handed you a note.

You took it with a cautious hand. “If this is your two-week notice, get out now and don’t come back.”

She laughed. “No, no, Satori dropped it off earlier.”

“Satori, who?”

“The chocolatier next door. Red hair? Came in to help with that one tourist?”

“He wrote me a note?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re the one he gave the note to!”

“He just said to give it to my ‘cute boss with an attitude doesn’t really give me much of an idea why he wrote you something!”

You glared at the envelope apprehensively before snapping it out of the girl’s hand. “Alright, go home. Don’t forget your tips. The idiot tourists were kind enough to leave them.”

“You got it, boss!”

The door to the kitchen swung shut behind her.

You couldn’t read the letter right away. Sadly, you had dough-making to do. But once you were upstairs in your home, out of a shower and about to relax, you noticed the letter sitting on your table, waiting to be opened.

Flopping onto the couch, you flicked the envelope open and slipped the letter out.

You flipped it over and scoffed at the wax seal. For a simple note, he surely was dramatic.

An invitation for chocolate tasting.

It was late at night, and most shops like your own were closed up. Despite this, the loud (usually) tourists didn’t seem to care for the sleep of others, insisting on keeping their day as lively as possible, even down the darkest streets.

The sound of people walking by and talking much louder than considered respectable set you on edge as you sat in your apartment upstairs. Why couldn’t they take a different street or maybe just speak quietly? You weren’t keen on hearing another story about someone’s abysmal love life —you had your own— and didn’t want to keep resisting the temptation to stick your head out the window and yell “dump him” to whatever angry pedestrian was stomping down your street.

Then again, maybe those fleeting encounters were preferred. It saved you the fear of the possibility of a break-in. You didn’t have anything people should really want to steal, nothing that would garner any monetary gain. But, some people would try to steal even the simplest of things, like a spoon, if they could. So you dealt with it, letting your night go by until you eventually fell asleep.

Sadly, you couldn’t sleep yet. You heard movement. Not the usual skidding of shoes on stone from outside your window, but a deep quake-like feeling from below.

Eyes open, you jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to your bakery, where the following thud came from.

The temptation to yell at passersby was easy to resist. An uninvited stranger in your locked home, however:

“You pig dick, stop snorting around my shop, or I’ll change my career and become a butcher!”

“Why are you up this late? You’re usually in bed by now, no?”

You screamed, feeling as though your skeleton jumped out of your skin. Satori Tendou poked his face through the blossoming hole in your shared wall.

“I’ll forget that you know my sleep schedule in exchange for you telling me what you’re doing.”

“Oh, just trying out some new chocolate mixes. Would you like to try some?”

You paused, glancing to the stairs you just ran down from and back to the face in the wall with a puzzled expression. “Have you been here this whole time, just making chocolate?”

“Well, I did drop a few things here and there, almost took a nasty fall, but ya, just chocolate.”

“And you heard nothing else. No sounds, no rummaging, no breaking in?”

“Nope, just me.”

“This building will be the death of me.”

“Only if it collapses on you.”

You looked at the cracks surrounding his head, spanning over the wall length, front to back.

“Tha might happen sooner than you think, Tendou.”

“Call me Satori,” He smiled, his cheeks pressed against the wall on either side of his head.

“Tendou, are you still offering to taste test that chocolate?”

“Sure, come over!”

The hole in the wall had gotten larger. A crack that had formed beneath it started to break apart, falling into larger chunks as the days passed. With a falling heart, you would watch the shop on the other side of the wall with an unobstructed view.

“How naive was I to believe I managed to find a good place with cheap rent?”

“Well, it is cheap,” one of your bakers said while he set fresh cookies on the display case.

“Sadly, not good. If with place continues to crumble, we may have to move shop.”

“But that would mean you must find a new place to live.”

“Some sacrifices must be made. I could sleep in the lounge.”

“And our pay would likely decrease due to rent increase.”

“That is harder to find a solution for.”

Hearing a crack, your head shot back to the crumbling wall. In it, a familiar man with shaved red hair straddled the lower end of the gap before lifting his other leg high in the air and tumbling through it. As he hit the ground, pieces of the wall covered him like powdered sugar on a cookie.

Your stomach sank, but before you could curse out the chocolatier for doing something so childish, a large chunk of wall, peeled off, hung by a tiny bit of paint, then dropped onto the man with a crack, breaking in two. People gasped on both sides of the wall.

Cursing —not at the man— you ran over.

“Ah, damn it. This fucking wall. Tendou! Why did you climb through it like some sort of spider? Are you looking to get smacked?”

“Hey, I told you to call me Satori!”

Grabbing his elbow, you heaved him up until his legs managed to get beneath him. He shook his body head to toe, making leftover dust fall to the floor.

The wall was crumbling, and with it, your sanity.

You could see everything in Tendou’s shop and everyone buying chocolate. They could see everything on your side as well. In a dramatic sense, it felt like you had woken up during surgery and watched the doctors look into your stomach. A bit self-consciously, you’d imagine them with ghastly expressions under their masks like they had found something from a horror film in their digging.

The more you think about it, maybe that would’ve been preferred.

“I’m going to call Pierre. This is too much to deal with.”

Pierre, for once, did something about it. But in doing something about it, he told you and Tendou to close up shop and leave the building for a couple days while repairs were made. Breaking your usual schedule made the days seem to go by much slower than they should have. Still, once you could leave your poor employee’s apartment and make it back to your home, you were ecstatic.

Until you found out what Pierre thought ‘fixing’ meant.

“I’m going to beat that old man into his grave and bury him in the Seine.”

The wall was gone. Front to back, the wall had been entirely torn down as if it wasn’t meant to be there in the first place.

“I give up!” you screeched, tossing your bag onto a table and falling to the floor. “This wasn’t meant to be. I’m going to quit and work at a fast-food restaurant that doesn’t even make good food.”

You lay there, face pressed into the freshly polished floor, arms spread wide like you were incorrectly making snow angles. But what else could you do?

“Are we gonna change the names and merge them? Our lounge space looks to be doubled, nice, nice! Ooh, we could use the middle space for some dancing! Eh, wouldn’t that be fun?”

Turning your head to press your cheek into the floor instead of your nose, you watched Tendou prance around the newly wide-open space with intrigued eyes. At your silence, he began humming a tune and moving tables around unprompted. Then he went to your side of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Re-orienting the space.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a great opportunity.”

“Tendou, this really—”

“Satori.”

“Satori, this really isn’t ideal.”

Setting one of your tables down, Tendou jogged over. Using your wrists for leverage, he turned you onto your back and stood over you, stepping on either side of your hips. You grunted as he pulled you up, head falling back to see your now shared counter space upside down.

“Come on. This is great!”

You eventually got to your feet, rubbing your cheeks while watching Tendou get behind the counters.

“Hey,” He called, “How do you feel about chocolate croissants?”

Your head tilted, hands falling from your face into your pockets. “My mom used to make them for me as a kid.”

Satori grinned, “How about we try and make some ourselves?”

This is not originally how I wanted to write this. But my brain just isn’t cooperating. The original idea was like a culinary school rivalry, so… sorry about that - Bacon

You could still write the culinary school rivalry *the emoji that are the eyes* - Kiwi

Posted: 03/07/2022

#tendou satori x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori #Haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #haikyu x reader #anime x reader #anime

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capesandshapes · 3 years

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All You Had to Do Was Stay (Post Reveal/ Pre Relationship) (1/4)

Thanks to LNC for the title!

Summary:

Three years ago, Marinette revealed her identity to him. Three years ago, he promised to wait in a hotel room for her. Three years ago, she opened the door to find it empty.

Now she's expected to play nice with him, since she's the maid of honor and he's unfortunately the best man. But old habits die hard, and old feelings die harder.

"This is a wedding, not a death march, Marinette."

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Things that need to be done before Alya Cesaire could marry Nino Lahiffe:

1. Designs combining both Martinique culture and Réunion style needed to be made for the whole wedding party. Everyone should get to have a say in what they wear.

2. The video of Alya dancing overenthusiastically to the cupid shuffle needed to be removed from Lila Rossi’s Instagram, lest Nino’s nana see and wonder what type of woman he’s marrying.

3. The cake tasting needed to be had. Marinette needed to make sure that her parents didn’t go overboard and keep the couple for the whole night. Even if Alya was practically their daughter. Even if they begged. Even if papa cried.

4. A totally unique and unreplicable combination Bachelor and Bachelorette party needed to be planned.

And, lastly… The most difficult of all:

5. Marinette somehow needed to be able to stand in a room with Nino’s best man, Adrien, and hold a conversation for more than five minutes. Even if, three years ago, he found out her identity, left Paris, and broke her heart.

“Easy,” Marinette groaned, sinking further into her barstool as she closed her notes app, her head touching the counter of the bar. She’d already crossed off the top two of the list items, and yet…

“I’m not asking for a miracle,” Alya began, obviously knowing what she was thinking about. She was the one to ask Marinette out that night, wanting to find out her progress… and also to check in on her wellbeing. It was obvious that she felt bad, she knew how things went between the two and how Marinette originally thought they would go. But she couldn’t just ask Nino not to have Adrien be his best man. “Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking. Just five minutes in a room together. You quickly plan the bachelorette party, since we know that you’re far too organized not to, give him the run down, and then leave. Back to your life, back to doing whatever it is you do now.”

“Sit at home. Alone,” Marinette supplied.

Alya grimaced. “It’s for the best that Luka got married, Marinette. You couldn’t keep playing that game. All that kiss and tell was gonna kill you some day.”

Marinette groaned, somehow sinking further into the wood of the bar. Anymore and she’d become part of the grain.

“Plus, Juleka’s in a better mood with you now,” Alya said, obviously looking at the other young woman as she undoubtedly danced on the floor with Rose. Marinette’s habit of coming back to Paris and making out with her brother had obviously put a strain on their relationship, even if Luka insisted that things weren’t committal and he was totally fine with only seeing her twice a year. “Who knows, maybe Nino will have a handsome cousin and you’ll fall madly in love.”

Marinette raised the side of her head to cast Alya a glare from one eye.

Alya didn’t falter. “So, he’s back. After spending three years in New York, Milan, Hong Kong, and Tokyo. I get it, it’s life changing, it’s world ending, it’s all the things you don’t want and more—especially after how things ended,” Marinette groaned, Alya carried on, “but, you know who else is back? Max, Rose, unfortunately Lila, and Kim. Good old Kim. All your friends, everyone who you’ve known for years, everyone who has missed you as you flitted in and out of Paris! Sure, you found out that Adrien was Chat Noir, went to his hotel room, thought you were finally going to get together, and then opened the door to find it empty—but you know, life happens! And when you least expect it, it keeps going on and on and on and on!”

Marinette turned her face back to the wood.

“I really did try to get Nino to change his mind,” Alya said flatly. “I begged.” Marinette doubted it, but…

“Why couldn’t he just stay in New York?” Marinette mumbled.

“Because Nino is his best friend.”

“Why couldn’t Nino go to New York,” Marinette said, “or Adrien done a zoom call for the wedding.”

Alya snorted. “Okay, that’s it,” she said, grabbing Marinette’s arm. “Adrien’s landing today, nothing’s going to stop it, you just have to clear your head and power on.” She leaned into Marinette’s view as her friend finally turned her head, insistently stating, “you were Ladybug for god’s sake. Even if no one else knows it, you do. I do. You gotta suit up, lovebug, and face the day, lest another evil butterfly come flying by.” Never mind the fact that there hadn’t been an Akuma in years.

Not since Gabriel Agreste was arrested.

Marinette rolled her eyes, finally lifting herself off the bar.

“There’s my girl,” Alya said. “Now, finish your dirty shirley, order another drink, and come do karaoke with me. I’m a hundred percent certain that I saw Say You’ll Be There on the song list, and you know that I’ve been singing Spice Girls since I was in diapers.”

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Marinette stumbled into her apartment at one am. Not drunk, she didn’t get drunk, not out in public at bars. In friends’ apartments, maybe. She was still a bit tipsy which was, in its own way, dangerous. But she could fight through it, maybe.

Kicking off her heels, she looked at it, the studio she called home and had once been so proud of a few years back, the same studio she’d lived in ever since she was a fashion design student. The same one in which she’d left Chat knocking on her balcony door when she struggled to stay asleep, and eventually relented to let him in time and time again before he knew who she was.

“Someday, I’m going to move,” she grumbled, beginning to pull the bobby pins from her hair. She wouldn’t, of course, not for a long time. Rent-controlled apartments were rare, and while she pretended that the history that practically stained her hardwood floors was something she would rather forget, she was a nostalgic young woman. She’d be there for at least another five years, or until she was finally well and truly over Chat.

Five years would probably come first.

She passed by the photos washi taped to her walls, the ones where fourteen-year-old kids gave toothy smiles and eighteen-year-old young women gave winks while leaning into blond young men. If she was so concerned about history, she’d have to get rid of those first.

She sighed, finally removing the last bobby pin from her hair and letting it fall down her back, placing the black pin in one of the many bowls around her apartment placed for that very reason. Adrien would be in Paris by then, she was sure. He was probably sound asleep in the Agreste mansion.

“Welcome home, kitty,” she said sarcastically, beginning to climb the steps to her lofted bedroom, a space that was not unlike her childhood room.

This wasn’t how she expected things to be.

Of course, this wasn’t how anyone expected things to be. If you asked anyone, they told you how the story ended. Ladybug and Chat Noir finally got together, they were hiding in Paris somewhere, they were in love. They probably had kids, a dog, a hamster—normal jobs and normal lives. That was what the people of Paris wanted. She thought that that was the ending they would get.

She thought that when she went to the hotel room that night, he would be there. She thought that he was happy to know who she was. She thought that he loved her.

She thought wrong.

Marinette always thought wrong.

She thought she could get over him. She thought making out with Luka was a solution, one that she could keep trying every time she went to Paris. She thought that she would miss Adrien more than Chat, the promise of love more than sitting in her bed and watching subtitled anime while he mouthed the English translations.

By now, she thought she’d be waking up to someone else. That maybe she’d have a steady life, someone to wrap their arms around her in the morning.

Adulthood hits hard.

“Adrien Agreste,” she said, flopping back in her bed and pulling open her phone. She wasn’t above social media stalking.

There he was. Gold hair, tanned skin, too many muscles to know what to do with. Landed in Paris four hours ago, his Instagram posted a picture of him with his arm around Nino. His eyes were still kind, his smile still flawless. Her heart still pounded.

“Jerk,” she muttered, letting her phone fall down beside her. “I didn’t need you anyway,” except for all those times she did. Like when she put the earrings back in the box and said goodbye to one of her closest friends. She could have used him then.

She could have used him a lot of times.

Her eyes stayed glued to the ceiling, her chest rising and falling with every breath. There was no sound, no doting kwami, no laughter from her parents, and no Alya playing with her hair. Just her.

“Now I’m going to see you and fall in love with you all over again,” she said, wishing she could steel herself against the inevitable.

#adrienette #lovesquare #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #post reveal pre relationship #post reveal #pre relationship #mlb fanfic #miraculous fanfiction #my fanfic

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

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Winner Takes All (Adrenaline Junkie Part 15)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: blood, the Warden (that thing needs it’s own warning), gore, violence, swearing, stitches, death (?)

Word count: 2,442

You crouched against the wall as the slow thundering footsteps got closer and closer to you. The footsteps came closer and closer, nearby puddles of water rippling in succession. Despite the swirling fear and anxiety threatening to take complete control of you, you felt overwhelming anger at the creature. This thing set your life back for years on end! It was a ruthless killing machine that deserved no mercy; there was no way of telling how many it killed. How many other lives it ruined.

You hovered a hand over the TNT launcher on your hip and anticipated the creature’s presence soon. You took out some flint and steel and placed it in your pocket in an impromptu Plan D: blow this place to smithereens when all else fails.

When the footsteps became louder, you took out the launcher and cocked it, the whirring of redstone waiting to fire sounded throughout the cave. The sculk blocks writhed and glowed, casting a green glow through the darkness. The footsteps grew faster and you fully extended your wings ready to take off in a moment’s notice. You took aim and your finger twitched on the trigger. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins and you languished in the feeling. It was what kept you on your feet and going.

The second the thing came into your line of sight, your finger pressed down onto the trigger. You slid backwards slightly at the recoil and watched as the TNT shot through the sky and exploded on impact. The creature stumbled backwards with a small grunt.

Oh dear Ender, this thing was massive. It was now (if you were to estimate it) at least twenty feet tall if not taller. If you were to stand next to it, you would barely be taller than it’s leg. The sculk stalks sprouting from it’s wide head were a foot or two shorter than your full wingspan with vines and moss drooping from the protrusions. If you thought this thing was terrifying when you died for the first time, then this thing was a being from your worst nightmares. It was like this thing wasn’t real; the sheer size of it alone was overwhelming.

The TNT did absolutely nothing to it. The stalks on its head twitched and the sculk blocks thrashed and glowed. You stayed absolutely still and held your breath praying that it wouldn’t notice you. When it started to unexpectedly run at you, you yelped and shot into the air flapping your wings as fast as they could go. You reached the ceiling by the time it got to you. You stayed there hovering for a moment trying to figure out how the hell it knew where you were. You panted as you hovered over the cave floor and watched it look up blindly at you, it’s stalks twitching.

You were completely still, you made sure of it! So how did it know your position? The only possible reason could be if it heard your heart beating out of your chest because you certainly did. Or the blood surging through your body and roaring in your ears. Maybe you were shaking? That doesn’t matter, it could always hear you no matter how quiet you think you’re being. It made sense; if this creature lacked eyes then it had to have an extraordinary sense of hearing and navigation system. If Plan A was destroyed before, then it was completely out of question now.

It stood unmoving under you as you hovered over it. The permanent gaping frown dripped with drool onto the floor endlessly, the bioluminescence disappearing after a bit of being on the ground. Your mind flashed back to what you read about it; the adults are more calculating while the juveniles are more brash. It knew you were too high for it to reach so it was saving its energy.

You could hear an endless stream of whispers from the spirits entrapped in it’s chest:

“Run while you still can”

“Wake up, we need to get you out of here”

“Don’t leave me”

“Free us”

They sounded like they were in agony. Their voices were very diverse ranging from masculine to feminine, young to old, familiar to unfamiliar (for some reason that you didn’t have time to ponder. You just chalked it up to your mind playing tricks on you). Hugh was in there somewhere. You were going to set his soul free. You were going to set all the souls free.

You set your jaw and reloaded the launcher. You pointed it and fired. The creature did nothing to move away from it, getting hit in the face and not reacting at all. This thing was seemingly unbeatable. You grit your teeth and kept firing at the creature. By the tenth time, it was still unscathed. The rage you felt at the creature overpowered all rational thought. You needed it dead and you were going to stop at nothing to achieve your goals.

By the time you fired at it for the fifteenth time, the back of your head smacked against something making your vision blur and dazing you. You stopped flying for a second with a gasp and wide eyes, feeling yourself start to fall. You heard it move quickly under you before you steadied yourself in the air once more and flew closer to the ceiling once more. If you looked behind you, a large stalactite met you. You quickly remembered that every single time you shot the launcher, the ricochet would’ve pushed you further and further upwards closer to the ceiling. This was something you mentally kicked yourself for. You needed to be more diligent.

You remembered what the book said about it’s weak points being the open chest and the heart. You needed to fly closer to it in order to aim for it’s achilles heel. It was the only way you had even the slightest chance at beating this thing.

You swooped downwards and fired at it’s chest, grinning in triumph when it grunted and almost fell over. It ran at you, but you were quick to maneuver your wings so that you swooped back upwards. It was working, it was doing more damage than previous attempts did.

You continued your dive bombing and it was quickly realizing your pattern, dodging things faster and getting dangerously close to setting off the TNT you planted. You need to lure it away so you don’t accidentally blow yourself up. You darted to standing forty feet away from it on the ground and started to run.

“COME AND GET SECONDS! GET EM WHILE THEY’RE HOT! LIMITED TIME OFFER!” You shouted over your shoulder and heard it run after you, catching up quickly with it’s long legs. You started to fly, tucking your legs in close to your body and darting parallel to the stone and dodging stalagmites that sprouted from the ground. You were about five feet off from the ground, these stalagmites were getting hard to dodge. You weaved through the protrusions, twisting and turning your body. You could hear them crumbling behind you as the Warden stepped on them, reducing them to nothing more than dust with very little effort.

When you glanced behind you, your mind flashed back to the moments before your first death; the Warden was chasing you with it’s clawed giant hand that was as big as your entire body was outstretched ready to grab you. This time it was more sure of it’s movements, not blindly flailing its arms around and now reaching out straight for you. Your body was jerked to the right as you turned around only to be face to face with a stalagmite racing towards your face at a fast pace. You shrieked and brought your arms up to protect your face before you collided with the stone.

When you did, you felt something crack in your forearm and grunted when you fell to the floor a few feet below you. You could hear the booming footsteps behind you get closer and closer. You quickly glanced at your metal wing. It was completely busted, bent in places where it should be straight and the metal feathers crumpled. So that leaves you with Plan D, there was no out running this thing on foot.

You pulled out the flint and steel and lit a spare torch before it finally got close to you. It’s hand wrapped around your lower body and it brought you up to its grotesque face. You threw the torch over to the nearest cluster of TNT and grinned wickedly at the sound of it starting to go off. It brought your head up to its mouth, but you didn’t struggle; your job was done here. You cackled and felt a tear escape your eye, “see you in hell, motherfu-” Just as it’s jaws snapped shut, an explosion sounded and everything went black.

...

“(Y…”

“(Y/n)...”

“(Y/n) please wa…”

You could hear a faint whispering? What the hell, you were on your last life, so why could you feel yourself breathing? Why did everything hurt? Your entire body was in agony. You split your eyes open and the sight of the cave ceiling met you? Just what was going on here?

Green and white flashed in your vision before you felt yourself being lifted up. You cried out weakly as you felt your ribs grind together. “I know, I know. We’ll have you out of here in no time. Don’t close your eyes.” Philza?

“Dad?” Your breathing came out in a series of rapid short, desperate attempts to get air in your lungs. It sounded awful; every breath you took was accompanied by a soft moaning sound coming from the back of your throat with the occasional mixture of a gurgling and rattling noise escaping you. You couldn’t imagine what it sounded like to Philza.

You whimpered when your body was jerked as he took flight. “Yes, I’m here. Don’t talk, focus on staying awake kiddo.”

“Warden… Run.”

“It isn’t around here right now. I-I don’t know where it is, but we’re leaving the cave. We’re gonna go home, patch you up, and you can show me what you’ve been working on with that TNT launcher.” You furrowed your brows and looked up at his concentrated expression. You had two of them, the portable one and the stationary one. Besides, he already knows everything about both of them. “Which one?”

He glanced down at you before his eyes flickered back up. “There’s… there’s only one and you’re not done with it yet.”

“No… that’s not right. There’s the portable and stationary ones. I have patents.” You said between wet breaths. He said nothing, only flying faster through the cave. You could feel something warm dripping endlessly from your back, a vast contrast to the coldness of your skin on different areas of your back. The entirety of the base of your nub felt uncomfortably hot. You reached around with your left hand and felt for your metal wing. It wasn’t there.

“Didja take my wing off?”

“No.”

“Metal can be fixed, just gotta blacksmith it. Go grab it, it was hard to make” You felt your eyes burn from forgetting to blink, so you closed your eyes for a bit before you were shook. “Keep your eyes open, we’re almost out.”

“Where’s Arthur? Did you leave him alone?” Your speech was growing more strained as you went on. It was getting harder to breathe.

“Stop talking.” You saw light enter your vision. The dull blue sky met your vision. It was half past midnight when you left, were you passed out for that long? Why didn’t the Warden kill you when it had a chance to?

You felt fresh air work it’s way around your body and through your hair. You hissed when air met with the wound on your back. Blood was dripping into your eyes and down the side of your head dripping down to the ground several feet below you. You reached up and wiped the blood out of your eyes before a cough shook your entire body. When you pulled your hand back, an alarming amount of blood was splattered on it. You could feel more drip out the corner of your mouth. You could feel Philza’s breathing pick up and watched as he glanced down at you. His eyes widened at your bloodied mouth and hand, “fuck. Stay awake. Just please,” his voice cracked, “stay awake.”

“Am I dying again?”

“You aren’t dying,” he set his jaw and his face hardened in determination, “you aren’t dying. You’re gonna live.”

“This isn’t what it felt like the last two times. I-I feel… at peace. More calm. Is this what losing your last life feels like?”

“We’re home, can you see the house?” He impossibly flew faster. Before you knew it, you were being carried inside and set on the dining room table on your side. You felt Philza put pressure on your back and cursed under his breath, muttering something about an infection. You shrieked in pain, the hoarse, ear splitting noise ripping itself from your throat. You could hear several footsteps thud on the ground before your three brothers appeared in your vision. They immediately paled at the sight of you lying broken on the table with gurgles and rattles coming with every painful shallow breath screaming in pain.

“Techno, healing potions and golden apple. Wilbur, needle and thread. Tommy, bandages and alcohol.” They did nothing but stare at you weakly writhing on the table. “NOW.” They sprung to action grabbing the necessary supplies. You screamed when you felt a sudden stinging hit your back and the edges of a wound being pushed together. Hands held you down as you felt a needle pierce your tender skin repeatedly. You begged and pleaded for them to stop, you were already dying. You looked up to see Wilbur and Tommy holding you down on the table.

Tommy was avoiding looking at your face, instead watching them stitch your back up. Wilbur was looking down at you with the most heartbroken expression you’ve ever seen on a person. His eyes were glassy behind his skewed glasses and his hair a mess. When he saw your eyes focus on him, he leaned down to put a soft kiss on the tip of your nose (which was probably the only place on your face that didn’t have blood on it). That was the last thing that you remembered seeing before you passed out from the pain when more alcohol was poured on your wound.

(A/N): tell me, what do you think?

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#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #tw: blood #tw: swearing #tw: injury #tw: gore #tw: death #tw: the warden #tw: violence #tw: stitches

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afandommultiverse · 3 years

Text

Enemies - Zora Ideale

word count - 2.5k

request - Z3ll0us

warnings - uhh none really, language probably, just some fluff

a/n - ya'll, my bad, I'm not dead just not creative, I somehow came up with this in the matter of like 5 months, and it's still shit I'm sorry guys, but I hope you all enjoy! Btw I'm going to be trying my best to come back!💕

~~~

It seemed no matter where he went, no matter what job it was if they were there, there was no chance for him. How many bounties had he lost? How many relics had they stolen right from under him for contracts? Zora was sick of it and made it a rule to himself that he would drop everything and turn the other way when he saw them, but what was even the point? Because no matter where he went, they were always there.

Even now, a member of the Black Bulls, he was having a hard time holding back from releasing magic spells. He wanted them gone, at least that is what he thought. Why else would he get this burning feeling looking at them to speak to Magna like they have been friends for years? But, of course, Zora could never tell them. However, he wanted them to talk to him like that, not like he was just some scum on the bottom of their shoes, but it is not like all he has done has exactly helped his relationship with them, which brought him to his current predicament.

"With who?" Zora could not believe his luck. Of course, he was going to be with them. What else would the fates do but trick and play with him? His suffering must be amusing. Yami puffed on his cigarette as he handed Zora a pack of mission information.

"You are with Y/n. Now go find them and get on; I forgot about that one under some stacks of papers, due dates in 3 days." Yami kicked Zora out of his office and left him there to stare at the door as he thought about how fucked the next four days would be for him.

~~~

It was a cave expedition. Some wild animals had been going in there and coming out with big mana. It was beginning to make it dangerous for the surrounding villages who hunted wild game to put dinner on the table. But, thank the gods, Yami had cleaned off his desk; if not, who knows what kind of trouble the guild would have been in the next few days.

Walking to their room, Zora had heavy feet, which seemed only to get more weighted and weighted as he got closer to their door. Then he heard their laugh vibrating through the walls and ringing out to the hall where he could listen, halting his step and his heartbeat. Zora swallowed a knot before bringing his hand up to the door and knocking heavily. He heard their steps before the door opened, and they stared at him, sitting into their hip and glaring.

"What?" They seethed, narrowing their eyes as if looking for a trick. He sighed and handed them the folder, not even bothering to mess with them right now; they will prove him wrong later anyways.

"Be ready in thirty minutes." And then he walked away.

Y/n P.O.V

I watched Zora skulk away, a different air around him, almost defeated. I frowned before closing the door and turning back to the guest.

"Who was that?" A friend of mine from hell, a tiny demoness who specialized in brews and potions. Aliza was her name, and she was a stout little thing with filled-out curves and gorgeous maroon skin that glowed. Her nails were sharp and black, seeming to glitter in the light as she lifted her cup, which was much more prominent in her little red hands. Red swirly horns curled around her ears before pointing up in effortless black points that seemed to drip back down her horns like minor oil spills. Most enticing were her pink eyes, slit-like a cat and equally as sharp.

"Zora, a team member." I settled back down in my seat in front of her and sipped my tea. Her tail swished around her curiously as she stared at me pointedly. Since she was so short, she had to stand on the table to see eye to eye; she looked adorable under the flowers in the vase sitting at the center of the table.

"Just a team member?" Her pink eyes seemed to glint in knowing, knowing what? I did not know. I eyed her suspiciously as I finished up my meal.

"Yeah. Just a team member who, by the way, gets on my nerves sometimes and is a huge asshole." I took the final sip from my tea and gathered the dishes before throwing them through a portal to hell. Aliza looked unimpressed as she watched me close the said portal. "What?"

"You cannot keep expecting Helltower to keep doing your dishes." I grinned, dusting off my hands and moving to change.

"Of course I can! He loves me! Plus, I always repay him with little trinkets from the middle world." I mused, throwing on my guild cape and walking out of the room, Aliza following me. Her heels clicked on the stone hall as she followed me, surprisingly keeping up for being so small.

"Where are you going?" She continued to drink her tea, which she had reheated with a small flame in her hand.

"Some mission, talk shit later, okay?" She laughed before slipping through a small red vortex in front of her effortlessly, and I continued to meet Zora.

It has been silent ever since we started walking, stale moods rising from both of us. Yami had mentioned that the mission would be within walking distance. What he had failed to mention was that he thought thirty-five miles was within walking distance, which brought us here, stumbling on the only trail that would lead us to the village in need. Wind around us blew softly, whistling through the trees and making the leaves above our heads shutter and shake. Orange and yellow leaves were falling overhead to frame our little journey. Now and then, deer or a rabbit would hop across a few feet ahead of us, some even stopping to stare at us with their beady eyes before walking off.

As silent as it was between us, the forest made up plenty of sounds, birds chirping tiny tunes to each other from the high treetops. We had even heard the roars of hogs fighting by a pond over a mate. We stopped to watch them for a second but continued a little after. Eventually, Zora let out an irritated sigh and walked over to a tall, thick tree, probably hundreds of old- and kicked it so hard, the roots ripped out from the ground, well, mostly. Before any dirt or rocks could hit us, Zora quickly set up a magic circle and reflected it all. I watched in astonishment and confusion. What the hell was he doing? Then, as dozens of birds flew away from the scene, scared of such commotion, he spoke.

"Cut this for me, dear?" I scoffed at the nickname, trying to ignore the sweet pound of my heart that followed after his raspy voice wrapped around that word in an unreasonable amount of attractiveness. Then I thought of a particular pair of pink cat eyes glinting at me. So I shuffled forward, opting instead of asking questions to pull an ax out of a small portal. "I always forget your weapons are double the size of Cap'n Yami." He muttered off to the side, watching as I walked up to the top of the tree and measured up the ax to swing. As I swung down on the trunk, cutting it just as it began to branch out, I heard a low whistle, and secondly, his footsteps walking along the tree trunk back to me.

"Clean shot, doll." He grinned down at me, then looked back at the severed trunks. "We'll take the long one for the rest of the ride, whaddya say?" He asked, reaching down to pull me up. What the hell is going on? As I gripped his hand, I was almost in a trance, confused and running through millions of thoughts. Setting my body on auto-pilot as I tried to figure out why the hell he was so lovely. Which, in the end, was a bad idea, or maybe a good one.

My foot slipped, and just when I thought I was going to eat shit, a specific pair of hands gripped me, pulling me up fast. We fell back, landing against the wood hard; well, Zora did at least.

"Fuck." He groaned, rubbing his head before looking up at me, his mischievous eyes and smile gone, there laid concern. "Are you okay?" He moved me off of him gently, surprisingly not making any inappropriate comments on our position.

"You saved me," I spoke, still flabbergasted with what happened and the events leading up to it.

"Yeah, it didn't look like it was gonna be a soft fall, sweetheart." He stood up, convinced that I was all right, and gave me a hand again, this time watching me intensely as if I would misstep again. After I was up, he walked away, going to the head of the tree to fill it with mana. Slowly, the trunk began to rise, higher and higher, until we were above the surrounding trees. Green leaves blocking the view of the forest floor we once stood on, and a soft sunset began in front of us. The trunk began to move forward, slowly speeding up before staying steady. The wind whipped my hair around, along with a few of my things, making me hold on to them tightly after tying up what I could of my hair. I walked up to Zora again, coming to sit beside him. The trunk was thick enough for us to sit side by side, but it was a tight fit nonetheless. So as I settled beside him, he moved slightly for me, but our legs stayed glued to each other.

"If you could just do this the entire time, why didn't you just leave me back there?" I laughed it off, so used to him being a pain in the ass, and it is not like it would not be the first time he screwed me over in some way. Our relationship was not one of the niceties or cordial words. So often, you would find us fighting or screaming to see the other because of something they did, which eventually leads to a fight. Zora did not look at me for a bit, but when he did, I wished he had never turned his head. His eyes were sullen, sad, and overthinking, foggy with millions of thoughts that looked to be running through his head. The evident frown that towed down his face bothered me, so used to the shit-eating grin he pranked me or others, or when after putting someone in their place.

"I guess I can be really mean sometimes, huh?" I did not know his voice could be so soft. Honestly, I was surprised I heard him at all, but I did and could not stop thinking about it. I did not feel it necessary to talk after that, instead finally shutting my trap and moving on to watch the sunset. Colors blurred and blended across the sky, framing the mountains and trees rising to kiss the sky. It was quite the sight with bright pinks, oranges, and even some purple painted across the blue sky. When we reached the village, the sun was long gone, replaced by the moon, just as bright and beautiful with specks of stars across the sky. At some point, I remember getting bored and searching for the different zodiacs and patterns defined by the stars. As soon as I had found my sign, the tree trunk began to descend.

The trees we once flew over surrounded us and shut us off from the sky once again as we settled on the forest floor. The tiny little path we had been following earlier continued beside us, looking as it had when we left it hours ago. Up ahead, I could see the village glowing lively. Its name is written proudly on a wooden sign almost overcome at the bottom in ivy. However, before we got there, I opened my big mouth again.

"I don't blame you for being so mean; I mean, I would be mean too if my guild partner beat me at everything." That is not how it was supposed to come out, I mean, I was genuinely trying to be nice, but I did not filter the words that left my mouth before. Zora's head turned to me, eyes gaunt and eerie, his brilliant smile no longer on display.

"You wanna run that by me again, Doll?" The venom that surrounded the once cheery nickname made my stomach drop. I felt backed against a corner with miles surrounding me to run off. Quickly I tried to explain what I meant.

"Wait, Zora, that's not what I meant- not how I-"

"No, I think I got it doll, you just think you're that much better than me, huh? So what, you got to some quests before me, stolen relics under my nose, and joined my guild, passing me up in less than four months. I don't care, Honey, 'cause ain't nobody better than me- 'cause ain't no one like me! I don't care how much mana you have, how many spells you cast, how skilled you are, or how fucking perfect you are! None of that is gonna change no matter how gorgeous you are!" Zora's eyes widen, and he clenched his mouth shut, turning away with a growl and turning to walk off toward the village ahead of us.

"You think I'm perfect?" I called out, watching him stop and turn back to look at me. Zora's face was blank as he spoke.

"Are you telling me that out of ALL that, that is the only thing that stuck?" He scoffed, and his eyes narrowed slightly, sharp jaws sent in a deep frown. I walked up to him and stopped a step ahead of him. I held out my hand slowly, making sure I held eye contact with him.

"Truce?" Zora looked at my hand, astonished, which slowly melted away and revealed mixed relief and annoyance. Then, finally, he moved to grip my hand and shake it firmly.

"Truce. Whoa-" I yanked Zora forward, pulling him close, catching his surprised blue eyes before closing my own and going in for a kiss. Fortunately, Zora fell into it almost too easily, slipping his arms around me tight and returning the kiss with a bottled fever. However, after a few seconds, he pushed back, letting me go.

"W-What was that for?" I stared at him, lips still buzzing slightly from the contact.

"I don't know; it felt like the right thing to do. I think you're perfect, handsome too."

#black clover #black clover zora #zora ideale #zora ideale x reader #black clover oneshots #request #x reader #im back bitches #fluff

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cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Oblivious

Request from anon: Hi, I really enjoy your writing, particularly your Zemo fics! I had an idea for one that basically follows the while y/n joining Sam, Bucky, and Zemo through Madirpoor and Riga. Only despite Zemo’s flirting, y/n doesn’t really do anything about it or even notice until y/n along with Sam and Bucky witness Walker (New Captian America) murder a flag smasher in the street. They all go back to the safe house and y/n is like, in shock. “Captian America just killed someone” is all y/n can really say. And Zemo is able to calm them down. Maybe the romance can start then?

Word count: 3.4k

Author’s note: This one-shot can be multiple parts, if you would like to see a sequel please say! If I do decide to write a sequel though it will take me a while as I’ve had a lot of requests, please check out my master list to see what I have coming up next and if requests are currently open or not

Masterlist

(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)

Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

Heels clicked along the pavement as you sashayed along the road, approaching the men before you, two of which you know fondly. The other one, however... not so much.

They all stood close together in a circle, obviously discussing something important but at hearing your voice call out their heads turn towards you, a smile appearing on Sam and Bucky’s faces as they see you. “Long time no see boys,” you say, stopping a few feet away from them to lean on a wall.

They both walk over to you, Bucky pulling you into and hug then followed by Sam hugging you tightly. “Thank you for agreeing to help us out y/n. I know things haven’t been easy for you,”

You fake a smile at Bucky, one you hoped he wouldn’t see past resting your arm around his shoulder. “Anything for my friends,”

He was right, though. These times haven’t been easy for you, especially after Steve Rodgers left. Captain America had always been your idol, ever since you were a little kid you aspired to be just like him. You collected all the Captain America merchandise along with your brother Phil, always arguing with him who owned which toy of his. Meeting Steve had been a dream come true for you. He was the person you were closest to. He helped you come to terms with your brother’s death and whenever you needed help; he was there. You two stuck together through the thick and thin. That’s was how you got to become good friends with Sam and Bucky. You and Steve have always had a complicated relationship, though. You two liked each other and tried to see if you could be something more, but it never seemed to work out. Then Thanos happened. You, along with half the universe, were dusted. For you it was as if you had simply blinked however for Steve it was five years without you. You barely got to see each other again before he went away for good. You couldn’t hate him for it, you understood why he did what he did. He was always telling you about the ’40s, about his childhood, about her. You just wished you weren’t so connected with him. Seeing him there, old, dying. It broke your heart. But times move on. You can’t live in the past as he did.

Your eyes focus on the man behind Sam and Bucky and you frown, pulling your arm away from Bucky. A man you never thought you would see again was staring right back at you.

He stood a few feet back, knowing he wasn’t welcomed in the warm reunion of friendship. He clasped his hands, unsure what exactly he should do right now, feeling awkward, but as he looked over at you his eyes twinkled with recognition. Now you had been interesting to him. You weren’t a super soldier like Steve and James. Yet you certainly could hold your own against them. He had seen when he had first activated James. No, your strength and fighting abilities were down to your own human powers and he admired that. You were one of the few avengers he might have had an inkling to like if the Sokovia attack never happened. Still, it wasn’t as if you were to blame for it. The people who were to blame had suffered for it. You were merely the pawn in the giant game of chess. Perhaps he could grow to like you, after all, he could admit you were certainly tempting to him, the way your body was shaped excited him, the way your neck was shaped made him want to brush his fingers along it and your piercing eyes felt like they could look into the darkest corners of his soul.

“Why is he out of prison?” you snap, bringing Zemo out of his trance

Sam turns to scowl at Bucky as you all turn to Zemo, who awkwardly smiles. “Bucky thinks we need him,” Sam mutters

“Why would we need him!” you exclaim, crossing your arms and shooting Bucky a glare.

“I am invaluable,” Zemo explains with his hands, his eyes unwavering from you as he answers for Bucky.

“He hates super-soldiers, therefore he will help us in getting to Karli,” Bucky says, stepping in front of your eyesight trying to explain himself.

“That also means he hates you, Buck,”

All of them freeze as you address the elephant in the room. Bucky grits his teeth and steps back, averting your gaze as you and Sam stare expectedly at him but he doesn’t respond so Zemo takes his opportunity to step closer to you, now only a few feet apart.

“I can assure you, getting rid of Karli and her super soldier friends is my priority. Not James,”

You clench your jaw in anger as you look at Zemo. He tilts his head, the side of his lip curling up slightly, hoping you’d take a chance on him. Sighing, you turn to shoot one more look at Bucky.

“Steve wouldn’t have liked this,”

Later you sat across from Zemo on his private jet. All of you sat in uncomfortable silence as you flew to Madripoor. Sam and Bucky did not seem as close as you were to both of them. They both just sat on their respective sides and looked out the window. Zemo had a book on him which he seemed very preoccupied reading, yet there were moments where you could feel his eyes settle upon you. Ignoring his inquisitive gaze, you choose to follow in Bucky and Sam’s lead of looking out the window and daydream the rest of the trip away.

Your mind trails back to Steve. You wondered just what Steve would have thought about you teaming up with Zemo. He would have understood, wouldn’t he? It was the best option you had. Ah, but he had always been such a stickler about the rules. Breaking a criminal out and helping him avoid the law wasn’t very patriotic of you. Yep, he would not have gone through with this plan, he would have found another way that worked. But none of the people here were him. He choose not to be here. You knew you had to let him go.

“Champagne?”

You pull your eyes away from the window, coming back to reality as you see a bottle of champagne in Zemo’s hand and an empty glass in his other hand. He already had another glass full beside him as he looked at you expectantly.

“No,”

“Sure?”

“What part of no do you not understand,” you snap harshly glaring at him then back out to the window

“My apologies,” he says, pursing his lips together as he looks down at the empty glass. He glances over to Sam and Bucky but they both shake their heads as well so he hands the glass and drinks back to his butler and sighs as he opens his book again.

The tension between all of you sticks around as you arrive at Madripoor. Zemo had provided you a tight-fitting dress to ‘appear the part’ of your allice, and it showed off a bit too much of your chest than you liked. It was too bright for you, golden and sparky, cutting off at your upper tight, and had a very low v cut. You try your best to pull it down to cover you some more but to no avail. Begrudgingly, you leave the plane to meet up with the rest of them.

“My my y/n, the dress suits you,” Zemo says, smirking as his eyes trail up and down your body as you walk past him taking a straight beeline towards Sam and Bucky.

“How long will this mission take?” you ask, already feeling the cold air nip at your skin.

“Few hours at the least. I’m sorry that you have to do this, y/n”

“Hey, I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to help you two,” you mutter as you hear a car pulling up behind you

“Not exactly this though,” Bucky grumbles, glowering over at Zemo who motions to the car that had arrived. Zemo opens the door and waits for you to get in however you walk to the other side of the car and get in. Bucky chuckles at Zemo’s annoyed expression as he instead gets into the side, which Zemo held open.

During the mission, Zemo kept getting uncomfortably close to you. Occasionally his hand brushed against your back as he moved past you, or his hand would bump into yours slightly, lingering against yours longer than normal.

You knew why he was doing this. Because of Steve. He knew how close you and Steve were, everyone did. During the fight between Steve and Tony which Zemo had helped cause you stuck by Steve every second. Now that Steve was gone, Zemo was trying to rub that in. Trying to irritate you on purpose. You would not let him get to you.

During the meeting with Selby you stood off to the side with Sam and you were feeling pretty good about yourself that the mission was going well until Sam’s phone rang. You tried to keep cool while also giving Sam the wtf look as to why he didn’t put his phone on silent. You hung out hoping things would go okay, but today wasn’t your day.

Shelby got gunned down in front of you, and the mission was ruined. Running in heels wasn’t ideal, but you had to make do. You followed Sam and Bucky as Zemo split up from you, running off somewhere else. Eventually, you kicked off your heels, believing running barefoot would be better than dealing with the agony of heels.

Finally, meeting back up with Zemo, you were ready to have to fight your way out of this mess, but then someone you didn’t think you would ever see again appeared. Sharon Carter. You two weren’t exactly buddy buddies. You got along for Steve’s sake, but it always felt like a sort of rivalry between you two for his attention.

“Y/n,” she says, finally addressing you

“Sharon,” you say back, feeling the awkwardness seep back in. Sharon didn’t seem bothered however, she even kindly let you have some new clothes and shoes which were much more comfortable than the ones Zemo lent you and more your style.

Walking back into the main room you see Zemo sitting down, once again drinking, Bucky sitting down as far away from Zemo as he could get and Sam standing at the side. You choose to stand by Sam.

“Hey, y/n, you doing okay?” Sam asks as you walk over.

“Better than other days. What are we waiting around for?”

“For Sharon to lead us to a party where she can get the information we need,” Zemo answers for Sam, peeking over at you. You ignore him.

Sharon comes back in and tells all of you not to get in trouble while you are out at the party.

“Trouble,” Zemo jokes, and he once again glances over to you, raising a glass and winking at you as he downs it.

Following Sharon, you head into the party. It was to show off the art pieces she had got a hold of so you thought you might as well look at them as you were unlikely to see any of these genuine pieces again. You could see however Zemo following you. He tried to be sly by checking out the other artworks near you, never exactly where you were, but you could tell because every time you moved to a new place soon enough Zemo would suddenly appear there as well. He leaned into one of the artworks, pretending to study it closely, but the corner of his eyes would flick over to you.

Groaning in frustration at your new stalker, you decide you had to lose him in the crowds. Swaying your body, you enter the dancing crowd and jump along to the music, letting yourself go. You could feel your excitement growing with the crowd as you danced, but with one quick turn around there, you saw him.

Zemo had now entered the crowd and was dancing along to the music as well, pumping his hands in time to it. As you stared at him in disbelief, he notices and takes that as an innovation to dance over to you.

“Dancing is fun, right?” he asks as he claps his hand to the music

“Why are you doing this!” you exclaim glaring at him.

His eyebrows furrow as he looks at you, “I don’t understand what you mean?”

You huff in annoyance and storm away, going to find Sam and Bucky leaving Zemo alone on the dance floor. He watches you go and sighs, moving away from the dance floor. It had been a long time since he last got to socialize with anyone and he was trying with you; he wanted to know you more, but he didn’t want to push you too far either if you were uncomfortable with it.

The next few hours felt like a blur to everyone. Sharon found out where the doctor was and you found out a bit of information before Zemo choose to shoot him. Then the whole place exploded, and you had to fight for your life while Zemo hijacked and car to pick you up. Now you were standing outside the safe house.

Zemo opened up the doors, and with his arm motioned for you to go in first. You roll your eyes at his extravagance and storm in, looking around the place. It was simple, but you could still tell that it was all designer, expensive to Zemo’s tastes. You sit down on the sofa while Zemo instantly gravitates towards the liquor cupboard.

“If you drink so much you won’t have long left to live” you mutter as you watch him pour some whiskey. His head shoots up as he turns sidewards to look at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Concerned about my health now?”

“I’d rather have you not pass out during a mission, at least till you are no longer of use to us then you can drink yourself to death for all I care,”

“Ah concern for the mission, yes you avengers folks are all the same. The mission takes precedence before anything else,” Zemo says, grabbing his glass and walking over to take a seat on the sofa opposite you.

You give him a cold hard stare crossing your arms. “What do you mean by that” you hiss

He tilts his head, smirking as he sees how riled up you were getting. “I’m simply observing that you have to put your mission before human lives. I know from how much I studied Steve-”

“Don’t bring Steve into this!” you exclaim, leaning forward, baring your teeth at him.

Zemo pauses for a moment shocked, he pulls his head back to observe, his mouth slightly ajar as his eyebrows cast down but realization dawns across his face.

“Ah, you and Steve, you two were an item,”

“It wasn’t like that” you murmur, jumping up from the sofa and pacing around the room to try to alleviate the agitation you felt, your nails digging into your arms as you wrapped them around your body in comfort.

“But there was something,” Zemo replies, watching you pace around the room then looking into the glass bitterly, his grip on it tightening.

You turn your back to Zemo to stare at your reflection in the mirror, seeing the tears swell up in your eyes.

“Why are you bringing this up? Why do you keep trying to annoy me Zemo, what purpose are you getting from this apart from some sick sadistic pleasure?”

It was Zemo’s turn to jump up from the sofa, hurt you could ever think so lowly of him, his eyebrows furrowed as he speeds over to you. He stands beside you, getting a lot closer to you than you would like. You turned your head away so he couldn’t see the tears threatening to fall.

“Do you think that bad of me? Y/n we may not have had the best first impression but know that it is never my intention to irritate or upset you,” Zemo says, trying to move even closer to you, but he moves a step too far and you back away.

“Just leave me alone, Zemo” you whisper, then run out of the room to find a bathroom to let everything out.

Zemo watches your form leave, angrily clenching his jaw, knowing he pushed it too far. The vein in his neck twitches as he grabs an ornament by the side of the mirror. Holding it in his hand, he observes the glass figure, a dove, then chucks it into the ground in rage, feeling an inkling of satisfaction at seeing it smash into a thousand pieces. He grabs more ornaments, at that moment not caring how much they each cost, just enjoy the release of anger he felt every time he smashed one.

You could hear the blood in your brain roar through your ears, the feeling of your heart hitting your chest in shock as you stared down at Lemar’s dead body.

Your eyes flicker to John’s who knelt beside him, trying desperately to wake him up, but you knew it was hopeless. Lemar was gone. Your eyes flickered around the rest of the room, Karli and her friend realising how bad they have messed up were already running away from the room. Bucky and Sam looked at each other as if knowing what was to happen. Your eyes finally land on Zemo’s. John had tried to arrest him, but you were able to stop him. Zemo was still useful though you hated to admit it, it wasn’t long however till the Dora Milaje would find him.

You feel a hand brush against your shoulder and snap back into reality, “We need to leave, now,” Zemo whispered in your ear, pulling your arm to make you move.

Gathering your senses, you let Zemo lead you out of the building as you hear a crash from above. Running out into the road, you and Zemo catch up beside Sam and Bucky and watch the disaster unfold.

There was John, in Cap’s uniform, holding Cap’s shield above that man.

Steve.

Steve’s shield.

You feel a scream tear from your lips as you watch John Walker bring the shield down, penetrating the man’s chest, staining it in blood. Tears leak from your eyes as you attempt to rush forward, to try and stop it, but arms grasp onto you, pulling you back.

“NO” you repeatedly cried, trying to worm your way out of the grasp, but they gripped you, refusing to let go. Your knees gave out and you sink to the floor, collapsing in the arms of the person who held you, your head buried in the fur part of their coat as they held you to their chest.

You kept sobbing, shaking as the image replayed over and over in your mind.

“Captain America just killed someone,” you whispered, unable to say anything else. The arms which held you picked you up, quietly shushing you, and carried you down a road, back into the safe house.

They tried to put you on the sofa but you clung to their body, not believing you could survive without their support, so they settle on lying down beside you on the sofa.

They turned you to face their body as their arms draped around you, gently rubbing circles into your back. Burying your head into their chest again, you let the sobs wail out as your chest ached from breathing.

“Captain America just killed someone,” you whisper again to him.

“That wasn’t Steve, y/n, Steve would never do something like that,” he murmured, his accent soothing your nerves.

“But it was his shield Zemo. The very thing I had idolized for so long,”

“A shield which by now no longer belongs to him. He was never Captain America y/n, what we just saw proved that. They will give the shield to someone better,”

You sniff, trying to prevent the snot from coming out of your nose as your bloodshot eyes look up into his, “Really?”

He gently smiles at you, taking his hand off your back to push a strand of hair that was hanging over your eye away.

“Yes, they won’t make the same mistake twice,”

Zemo’s words brought more comfort than you could have ever imagined. His embrace brought you warmth and you could feel yourself slowly stop shaking as he held you. Looking away from Zemo in embarrassment, you instead choose to snuggle your head back into his chest, hearing the rapid beating of his heart which lulled you to sleep.

Tags: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @aloyssiac @hannahbal-the-fannibal @alainabooks143 @jokerprettyprincess @plumsandkiwis @latenightartist-author @e-barba @flutterskies @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean

#zemo x you #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo #i love zemo #zemo x y/n #zemo tag #zemo fluff #tfatws #daniel brühl #marvel #mcu

159 notes · View notes

sakiyo · 3 years

Text

━ # ONE A.M EYELINER | suna rintaro

+ pairings: suna rintaro/reader

+ tags: best friends 2 lovers, suna being a pretty mf, mutual pining, uni!au.

+ warnings: none

+ word count: 2.2k

+ summary: suna rintaro has never let you do his eyeliner, simply because he’s afraid to let you get too close.

+ listening to: FLESH by miguel & A Warm Touch of Light by Isabella LeVan

+ note: nothing but me rambling on about how pretty suna’s eyes are and how they’re pretty enough to deserve a whole fic dedicated to them. dedicated to my dom @kiyoomae i hope you enjoy babe because i finished this shitty fic for you <3.

“i could get hypothermia if i go out there, you know.”

working with suna always ended up the same way, there was no doubt about it. by the time that the clock plastered on your wall hit twelve-forty five a.m, the project was finished, but completely half assed as a result of neither of you paying enough attention during lectures to actually know what to do. yet, somehow, the same desultory assignment would always receive an undeserving ‘A-plus’. mostly because your professor never cared to actually observe the material, as long as it was in, it was good enough for him. [but you would grade it a solid 64 percent]

there's one variable that’s different today; it’s raining. it’s one a.m and it’s raining, and suna decided that it would be a sublime idea to walk to your apartment today, of all days. [as much as you encourage him to do so, he still never checks the weather]. the disruption in your routine was anything but an easy adjustment. and as much as you wanted to kick him out, the rain was growing heavier and heavier and—

“okay fine! you can crash for the night!”

he smiled, unaware of the fact that you would have said yes to him either way.

+++

you can’t help but notice that suna has pretty eyes.

honestly, you picked up on his bizarrely unique vulpine-like eyes years ago, when you had first met him. but now, as you sit on the couch that occupies the majority of your compact living room, you’re drawn back to them.

its an odd thought to think about your best friend at one in the morning.

but...he’s admittedly pretty.

you think back to a random fact you learned in the biology course you took in your third year of highschool; you grow into your eyes. never in your life did you believe that such a miniscule piece of information would find its way back into your mind two years later, and because of suna no less.

it’s one a.m and your legs are situated in his lap, his fingers deftly toying with the tip of the anklet he bought you for your sixteenth birthday [he doesn’t believe that you still wear it, even after all the passed time],

but you’re still fixated on his eyes.

if it was even possible, the creases accented them further, like each line was strategically placed to lure one’s undivided attention to them. it’s funny though, because suna was never fond of attention. [which was also why seven year old rin never took a liking to overly-exertive you.

you still share a laugh with him thinking back to your rock hard resolve as a child and his burning desire to stay away from you.

it’s funny how easily time changes things.]

you almost feel like you’re dreaming as you watch his eyelids ghost over, his glassy skin reflecting the coral tint of the cheap ceiling light. but you’re not dreaming, he’s right there, in all his ignorant glory. suna doesn’t notice your residual gaze, he’s fixated on the ‘NBA playoffs highlights’ video streaming on his instagram feed. yet you feel creepy, overanalyzing him like this.

but you allow your mind to wander, just a bit.

“hey, rintaro?” you lightly dig your heel into his thigh.

it’s merely a sporadic case of wishful thinking. you’ve known suna rintaro for many years, which was more than enough time to figure out his complex personality.

and if there’s one thing he never allowed you to do, it was his eyeliner.

six times.

you had asked to apply the liquid to his eyes six times, and each time you had received the same answer. a simple no. he doesn’t say ‘no’ with malice, though. no...the last thing he would want is you thinking that he just hated you enough to constantly reject your proposals.

suna hums quietly, shifting to meet your gaze. “yeah?”

he still thinks you haven’t caught on, but you picked up on his tendency to immediately drop his phone in a reflex to hearing your voice a while back— you like it.

“do you think,” you shift your legs from the comfort of his lap and move your body closer to him, “i could do your eyeliner?”

your question doesn’t register.

instead, suna’s hyper fixated on the inching proximity between you two— he doesn’t like it. it’s one a.m and you’re moving one couch cushion closer, your knee is brushing against his thigh, has your skin always been this cold? he can barely focus, but he still hears the droplets of rain assaulting the window and roofs, they’re getting louder and louder and—

“suna? did you hear me?” your voice is accompanied with slight confusion.

you narrow your eyes as he blinks out of his trance. you’re not shocked though— his tendencies to space out were never limited to lectures alone. “wha?”

your shoulder rests against his, and he swears he feels his heart cease its rhythmic palpitations for a fraction of a second.

[no you idiot, that’s just your regular heartbeat.]

there’s apprehension in your voice, “can i...do your eyeliner…?” suna is a relatively simple man, the worst he can say is no, but you want a yes this time around.

“i’ve already said—”

suna’s breath hitches, as if his words are lodged at the back of his throat. your fingers grip onto the peak of his broad shoulders. [you’d rather die than admit it, but you always loved when he’d roll them back and inconspicuously stretch his neck]

suna stares at you squarely in the face. he can feel the outline of your fingernails lightly tacking into his skin. shit, he’s dreaming. his eyes shift around the room, it’s still one a.m, and he can’t get any words out of his mouth.

speak, speak, SPEAK—

you beat him to it.

“before you say no!” your voice rises as you try to appeal. “i’m letting you crash at my place for the night, i deserve a payment.” your words come out as more of a jumbled mess than a proper sentence. subconsciously, you take your bottom lip between your thumb and index fingers, biting it every now and then. suna lifts a brow at your familiar mannerisms— he likes to think he knows you better than anyone else, and he knows that you toy with your bottom lip before taking a test, receiving a report card, or going in for a job interview.

are you nervous?

he sighs.

“fine…” he whispers softly. suna doesn’t exactly know if he should regret agreeing to your question, but he doesn’t miss the way your eyes visibly light up when he does.

you look pretty.

+++

he regrets it.

it’s one a.m and you’re situated on his lap, straddling him innocently as you dab the brush into the bottle of ebony ink. suna can’t help but feel like a putty in your hands, the same ones that gently grip his jaw to hold it in place.

he’s still not sure how old he was when your touches started to feel like fire.

suna feels trapped, he IS trapped. between your legs, between your soft body and the tender cushion, between the thin line of friendship and-

he should stop.

[he still can’t believe he’s doing this]

“would you like thin, or thick eyeliner, rin?”

has his name always rolled off your tongue so effortlessly?

“thin, like yours.”

you hum with content, looking him over with a small smile etched onto your face. he doesn’t understand how you can keep eye contact with him so easily, especially while you’re moving closer and closer to his chest.

he holds his breath as you exhale. he can still smell the lingering scent of peppermint from the gum you were chewing minutes before– usually he can’t stand it, but right now it feels like home. suna knows his eyes shouldn’t be trailing down to your cherry balm stained lips, and he knows that his chest shouldn’t swell at the sight of you wearing his old bleach stained t-shirt that stretched past your shorts.

suna knows that he’s not supposed to see his best friend in that light; so why is it all that he can think about?

“close your eyes for me please?”

he really doesn’t want to, afraid that if he opens them back up again, you’ll be gone and he’ll be in his bed [he still believes that he’s dreaming]. but he knows that he’d rather dance with the devil [the twins] than say no to you, so he complies.

you hum a light tune to yourself as you bring the fine-tipped brush to the edge of his eye. as the pen glides across his skin, suna can’t help but flinch at the intrusive feeling. instinctively, his hand darts up to hold your wrist, stopping you from drawing any further.

“that feels weird.” he can’t see, but he can feel the smile tugging at your lips.

“you’ll get used to it in a bit, rin.”

it’s weird, best friends don’t usually sit in each other’s lap with less than five inches of breathing room between each other. what if he were to do this with one of the twins–

that’s a disturbing thought. he immediately forgets about it. he shifts in discomfort mid-stroke, making your hand slip.

you groan in frustration; it’s at times like this that you can’t stand suna.

“stop moving! you made it smudge!” you lightly smack his chest [though, it’s just a pitiful excuse to touch him].

“sorry, sorry.” your giggles die down as you clean up the line, and suna quickly goes back to overthinking.

tik

the rain is still pouring.

tok

he counts that you breathe twice every ten seconds.

tik

you’re getting closer to his chest.

tok

he can still smell the leftover pizza on the coffee table from today’s takeout.

tik

the gel feels kind of nice now.

tok

its one a.m and suna’s falling in love with–

“earth to suna?” you huff as you lightly tap his shoulder, “don’t tell me that you’ve fallen asleep on me.” it’s quite funny to him when you say that; you’re actually what keeps him up at night.

you lean back as he opens his eyes, looking at the eyeliner from afar. you can’t help but get a bit jealous– even without trying, suna had always managed to look perfect.

you’re so caught up that you don’t notice yourself starting to slip.

“watch out.” his hand slips around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

it’s one a.m and your hands are back on his shoulders. you know that your eyes shouldn’t be on his slightly chapped lips, and you know that you shouldn’t want to throw the hoodie adorning his body somewhere across the room.

inhale

his hands are still around your waist.

exhale

you watch as his tongue ghosts over his lips to wet them.

inhale

you can smell the residual scent of the same cinnamon cologne you got him for a ‘secret santa’ event between your friend group.

exhale

sometimes, you forget that you’re just friends.

inhale

has suna always been this attractive?

exhale

the tipped over bottle of eyeliner is spilling onto your clothes.

inhale

how would his lips feel against–

“wanna kiss you.” the hesitation in suna’s voice is clear. he knows better than anyone that best friends shouldn’t want to kiss each other. his heart is racing. when your eyes widen in surprise he wants nothing more than to push you off of him and leave without saying goodbye– but he’s already said it.

“w-what?” you stutter out. you can’t help but wonder if you’re dreaming. you want to pinch yourself, but if it is a dream, the last thing you’d want is to wake up.

“i want to kiss you. will you let me?” he says, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

little does he know that you want more; to touch him, taste him, love him–

you take the easy way out instead, “yeah...alright.”

he moves a stray strand of hair away from your face, is he doing this right? You move in closer, eyes slowly fluttering shut, but suna’s gaze still lingers on you. he thinks you look even more beautiful than before [he didn’t think it was possible]. It’s one a.m and he’s about to kiss the person of his dreams.

shit. he should close his eyes.

the journey seems like forever, but you both finally feel each other.

no, his lips don’t ghost over yours.

they press together, full of pent up passion. it’s hot, too hot for even best friends.

can you even call each other that anymore?

not with the way his hands claw at the tip of your shirt in a futile attempt of pulling you closer to him, not with the way you gather tufts of his hair in your hands, and certainly not at the way you both feel at home like this. you both can taste every last inch of each other.

he swears that he hates peppermint, but he’s drunk on the taste of it on your tongue.

you’re meant to be nothing more than childhood best friends, but you want more and more and MORE.

this shouldn’t be happening, but he wants more and more and MORE–

you both break for air after an eternity, pulling away with heat-flushed faces, heaving chests, and swollen lips. he rests his forehead against yours, peppering ghost-kisses between breaths that tickle your skin.

“i’m not supposed to love you, but i do.”

it’s two a.m, and two best friends are melting into each other.

they’re unaware that the rain has stopped.

#ending lowkey did not turnout the way i wanted but it’s decent #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #.my works

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Fate in Narnia

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Female!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: A year after the Narnian Revolution, Y/N, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie are sent back to Narnia. This means the three have a chance to be King and Queens, but most importantly, it means Y/N and Caspian can see each other again.

Masterlist

I return home from my classes at the university with groceries for dinner. After a long day like today, I’m reminded that it’s just me left to take care of Edmund and Lucy. Peter and Susan joined Mother and Father in America six months ago. They write to us often, promising they’ll send for us too when it’s safer. Honestly, I’m not sure how much longer I can balance classes, work, and picking up the slack for Aunt Beatrice. Her son Eustace and her husband don’t do anything to help around the house. Sometimes it feels like I’m taking care of five people.

“Edmund! Lucy!” I holler up the stairs after I set the groceries down in the kitchen.

When I don’t hear a response, I jog up the steps. They should be back from school by now, it’s nearly time for dinner. I hear a commotion coming from my and Lucy’s room. If it’s Edmund and Eustace going at it again I might just scream and I’m supposed to be the more patient older sibling!

I swing open the door to find Eustace and Edmund fighting. However, my attention is stolen by Lucy standing in front of a picture frame spewing water.

“What have you three done?!” I rush into the room.

“It wasn’t us!” Lucy explains, grinning brightly.

I glance between my sister and the ocean painting frantically. “You mean-”

Narnia. Caspian.

Eustace and Edmund finally notice the water swallowing up the room. Edmund hurries over to us. Based on his grin, he’s thinking what we are too. Eustace screams and goes to rip the frame off the wall.

“I’m just going to smash it!” He threatens.

“No!” My siblings and I struggle with our cousin for the frame.

The ice-cold water fills the room in a matter of seconds. We each struggle to kick ourselves to the surface as the furniture of the room starts to float. I close my eyes, afraid of what may happen. I keep kicking to the surface, in the need of air. When I finally reach the top after what feels like an eternity, I take in a deep breath.

“Swim!” Lucy shouts. “Eustace swim!”

I snap open my eyes and a massive wooden ship is sailing toward us. I scream and Edmund grabs my arm to get me to start swimming. My brother and I swim like Olympians to get away from the path of the ship.

“It’s Caspian!” Lucy yells enthused. “Guys, It’s Caspian!��

Edmund and I halt immediately. Two men swim up and take each of us safely.

“Caspian,” I repeat breathlessly, searching the surface for him.

“You’re alright now,” the sailor assures me as he starts guiding me toward the ship.

“Are we in Narnia?” Edmund asks one of the sailors helping us.

“Yes, you’re in Narnia,” the man chuckles happily.

After Edmund and I are brought up on the side of the ship, one of the sailors offers me his hand to help me on. I step onto the deck and immediately start scanning the many faces for the one I want to see most.

“Y/N!”

I spin around on my heels and am met with the raven-haired prince I’ve been longing to see. A bright smile appears across my lips as I run across the short distance. He opens his arms to me and I leap into them. He laughs deeply, twirling me around playfully. His embrace is warm and strong, just as I remember. Oh, how I’ve missed him. He lowers me to the deck, but his hands remain on my waist.

“How long has it been for you?” He checks instantly.

“A year and you?!”

I can’t hide my worry that it’s been forever. Granted, he looks far too good for it to have been too long. He looks practically the same except for the facial hair.

“Three years,” he smiles and relief rushes over me.

“Thank heavens it wasn’t over a thousand again,” I sigh, laughing lightly.

“You still are older though...” he sucks in air sharply between his teeth.

“Oh stop it!” I swat his arm playfully.

“Beautiful as ever I might add,” he compliments and leans in to plant a kiss on my forehead.

“Caspian!” Ed interrupts joyfully.

“Edmund!”

Caspian and Edmund embrace and Lucy comes to join us. Our attention is stolen when Eustace lands on deck failing.

“Get this rat off of me!” He screams.

A mouse comes leaping off Eustace and bouncing over to us.

“Reepicheep!” Lucy gleams.

“Good to see you again, Rep,” Ed greets.

The mouse bows to the three of us. “Your Majesties, always a pleasure.”

Caspian comes up behind me and drapes a blanket over my shoulders. I thank him quietly and wrap the fabric around myself. His hands remain on my shoulders as we watch my cousin go mad.

“Where in the blazes am I?!” Eustace fusses.

“You’re on the Dawn Treader! The greatest ship in all of Narnia!” A minotaur announces to Eustace.

The boy faints instantly, making everyone on the crew laugh, including Caspian and Edmund. Lucy ridicules them.

“Was it something I said?” The minotaur asks us.

“No, don’t take it personally. He’s just never been to Narnia,” I explain kindly. “In our world, there aren’t any minotaur.”

“Oh, interesting,” the creature replies with a shrug.

Caspian slips his arm around my waist and appears at my side. “See to him will you?” He asks of the sailor.

“Right away, Your Majesty,” the minotaur bows.

Caspian then jogs off to the stairs leading up to the helm of the ship.

“Gentlemen!” Caspian gathers everyone’s attention. “Behold our castaways! Edmund the Just, Lucy the Valiant, and Y/N the Gracious! High King and Queens of Narnia!”

Each of the sailors gets down on one knee and bow their heads. My brother, sister, and I can’t help but smile.

Caspian hurries back down and takes my hand to guide all of us inside. “Come! Let’s get you changed and I can show around!” _________________________________________ As the sun starts to set on the horizon, I watch over the side of the ship as the waves hit against the wood. Dolphins play in them, dancing along with the white foam. It reminds me of when I would watch them at sunrise when we lived in Cair Paravel.

A pair of arms snake around my torso and bring me into their chest. I rest my head back against Caspian and slip my arms over his. He plants a kiss to my temple gently. For a year I’ve missed this. The last time we were in Narnia, Caspian and I hardly had any time after the revolution to settle. It came as a shock when Peter announced we would be returning home. I wasn’t ready to go and Caspian wasn’t ready to say goodbye. It took every ounce of willpower to leave.

“I have a surprise for you,” Caspian whispers in my ear.

“Oh do you?” I snicker.

“Close your eyes,” he instructs with a nod.

Reluctantly, I close my eyes and hold out my hands. I feel a familiar leather sheath and strap brush against my palm as Caspian lowers the object into my hands slowly.

“Okay, open!” Caspian gleams.

My eyes flicker open and sure enough, it’s my old weapon gear. “My dual-swords!”

“I’ve kept them safe since you’ve been gone!” Caspian tells me.

Over the moon, I spin on my heels and pull him into a hug. I can’t believe he’s kept them with him after all this time and even took the liberty of taking them on the voyage. His arms linger around me and I ponder the feeling.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers against my shoulder.

“Me too,” I mutter solely, resting my cheek against his chest.

Caspian tightens his embrace upon hearing my words. Three years have gone by for him. A year was long enough to feel like a lifetime to me.

“So Caspian-” Edmund voices, making Caspian and I part. I place my weapons down on a barrel and lean against the rail behind me. Edmund doesn’t notice my glaring at him for interrupting. “-have you managed to find yourself a queen in the three years we’ve been away?” Edmund asks, amused.

“Oh uh...” Caspian stammers nervously.

My lips part as I stare at my brother dumbfounded. “Ed-”

“No, none to compare to your sister,” Caspian answers to my surprise.

“Ew,” Edmund grimaces in disgust and cowers off somewhere.

I turn to Caspian in awe. “Do you really mean that?”

“Every word,” he whispers, reaching up and caressing my cheek.

I lean into his touch as my eyes fall shut with immense peace. A sense of peace I haven’t felt in over a year.

“I’ve counted the days, waiting for your return. I knew there was a chance it may never happen, but I couldn’t give up hope. I still love you, Y/N,” he confesses and I open my eyes. “If not more than I did when you left.”

I step forward, leaning into my press my lips to his softly. The sensation is exactly as I remember, if not better than before. I part from him for a second, resting my forehead against his. Our eyes meet, my Y/E/C ones, and his jet black ones that I adore so much. The eyes I’ve dreamt about each night for the past year.

“I love you too, Caspian,” I whisper.

He smiles, releasing a breathless laugh of joy and takes a step back. His hands take both of mine and he rubs them with his thumbs softly. “I... I know you’ve never had a choice and I know I’m asking a lot of you but... will you stay here in Narnia... with me?”

My eyes search his face at a rapid rate. Is he truly asking me this? I take a moment to consider what he’s really asking me. I would be leaving behind my world forever. I may never see my family again. After all, this could be the last time we ever come back to Narnia.

“And I know that would mean asking you another question,” he continues. “I have something else for you.” He steps back and lowers himself to one knee.

My lips part as I start to comprehend what’s happening. The crew takes notices and starts to gather, along with Edmund and Lucy.

Caspian reaches into his pocket and a reveals a gold floral engraved ring in his palm. “It was my mother’s. I’ve kept it with me, waiting for you to return. I don’t wish to bombard you. I know I’m asking you to make an impossible decision and-”

“Yes,” I answer.

“Yes?!” He repeats, rising from his position.

I laugh, “Yes! Yes, Caspian I will marry you!”

He wraps his arms around me and lifts me off the deck. “Oh, I love you so much, Y/N!” Above him, I lower my head and bring my lips to his.

Instantly in my heart, I can feel that my fate was always meant to be forever with Caspian in Narnia.

Masterlist

#narnia #narinia imagine #prince caspian #prince capsian x reader #lucy pevensie #edmund pevensie #imagine #fanfic #ben barnes

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irelanddesires · 3 years

Text

Ny Början- Chapter 1

Pairing: André Burakovsky x reader

Warnings: Fluff, eventual smut, hockey violence, domestic violence (in the beginning), idk probs more.

Summary: With the help of a group of unsuspecting heroes you are saved from a toxic relationship. One of your saviors goes above and beyond anything you could ask for. A friendship is forged and after awhile feelings happen. Could ths be your happy ending?

A/N: Hi I’m trash and this idea has rolled around in my head for w e e k s. I’ve played hockey for a really long time and the Avs are my team... Burky happens to be my hockey crush so I figured I would share this. IDK what it is but this challenged me a lot and I can’t write a guys perspective to save my life ffs. Dialogue is hard my doods. Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think!

Going to the club was the last thing you wanted to do. Between working two jobs and trying to stay on top of your classes it didn’t leave much free time and you didn’t want to spend that sparse time dealing with drunk people and loud music. Your boyfriend, Matthew, had insisted that this was exactly what you needed after the week you had. At this point you both had been there long enough to see friends call it a night and you were pretty sure that Matthew was one drink away from making a fool out of himself.

“Matt, can we please go?” you asked, hoping that he would finally agree.

“Loosen up! We never get to spend time together. Let’s enjoy this!” he practically yelled.

“We’ve been here long enough. It’s late and I have an early shift tomorrow.” you urged. At this point you wanted to go home, get out of this dress and crawl into bed. Nothing at this bar held your attention. Matt’s had grabbed your arm, his face inches from yours.

“I said no. We’re not going anywhere. I’m not finished here.” he ground out.

The look on his face left little room for argument and was quite scary. Matt was usually a nice guy, the perfect boyfriend, but after drinking he could become a totally different person. Matt had never hit you but the emotional toll it took on you could be just as painful as a physical blow. After the week you’ve had of working 12-14 hour days just to come home and clean before passing out just to do it all over again made you throw all caution to the wind. You wanted to go home for fucks sake, not be here.

You snached your arm from his grip, looking him in the eyes, “I’m tired, I’m going home. You can stay if you want but I’m not.”

Before he could say anything you spun on your heels and marched out the side door that led to a less busy street. You hoped this would give you some peace and quiet as you ordered your Uber. Just as you tapped the app to get an Uber the door behind you swung open. Matt stumbled through the doorway and onto the sidewalk with you.

“You can’t leave me,” he said.

“Matt, I’m going home to sleep. I don’t care what you do.”

“I said no!” he roared. Before you could comprehend what was happening your head snapped back and you were pushed against the outside wall of the bar. The brick dug into your skin as you tried to struggle against the hands holding you there.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me you bitch.” he said as his fingers dug into your throat, “If I tell you to do something you fucking do it!”

Panic seized your chest as his hands circled around your throat. The throbbing in your head forgotten about as your fight or flight instincts kicked in. You tried to kick him as hard as you could but it seemed like he wasn’t phased at all by it. Your hands grabbed onto his, your fingernails digging into his skin trying to get any distance between his hands and your throat. Just as spots began to dance around your vision the same door you both had exited from swung open and a group of people spilled out.

Before you could try and scream for help one of them turned around and spotted you. His face went from relaxed and playful to murderous in seconds. You didn’t have time to gather your thoughts before he was charging both of you, shoving Matt off of you. You fell to the ground in a pile, your muscles felt like jello but your brain screamed at you to run. Looking up at the situation happening in front of you all you could see was the back of the stranger that had come to your rescue. His friends had caught on quick and made it over to stand around you too, like shields between you and Matt, as you gathered yourself.

“Is there a problem?” One of them said, the voice sounded like it came from the one that had charged Matt but your brain couldn’t comprehend everything that was happening.

Matt stumbled to his feet before looking at the mystery men. “Mind your business” he slurred.

“I don’t think so. You want to get to her, you have to go through us.” a voice called out.

For a moment it looked like Matt was considering it. His eyes scanned each guy before landing on you.

“This isn’t over you fucking bitch!” he yelled before turning around and making his way back into the bar.

The door didn’t have time to shut all the way before one of your saviors crouched down in front of you. His hazel eyes searched your face, “ Are you okay?” he asked

As much as you wanted to tell him your entire body felt weighed down, you bit back your weakness,

“I’m fine.” you said as you began to try and stand. It took a couple tries to get your feet under you. You tried to use what energy you had to stand, you were nearly there when your legs went to give out. Hands caught you around your waist and pulled you the rest of the way up.

“You don’t look fine” the mystery man said and he held onto you, carrying the majority of your weight. “Look, let me get you somewhere safe and I can take you home”

You looked at him, searching his face for dishonesty. At this point you figured that someone, or a group of people, that came to your rescue surely couldn’t be bad people. You silently agreed for his help with a nod of your head.

The rest of the time you spent with the group of them went by in a blur. They all talked amongst themselves in whispers, every now and then you caught words. At one point you caught the name “André” and you assumed this was the name of the guy holding you up. Before long a car pulled to the curb and your stranger opened the door for you before helping you inside. None of the other guys followed so you assumed they were getting their own Uber.

The ride was silent for a few moments before his voice broke through, “I’m André by the way”

“Y/N”

“I didn’t know where you would want to go so I figured you could come to my place and then decide what you want to do,” he said.

You looked at him and nodded, whispering a “thank you” as you settled into the seat. You shouldn’t feel comfortable about going home with a guy you just met outside a bar but for some reason you felt safe with him. He gave off a genuine arua of concern and wanting to help. Before you could think about it too much your world faded to black and you let your exhausted and battered body rest.

_______________________________

Having a night off from hockey was rare. What was even more rare was being able to have a guys night with some of the team. Most of the time when games weren’t being played or practice were being held, everyone would go their own ways. Some would spend time with their significant other, some would spend time alone or some would visit family if the break was long enough.

Tonight a few of us had decided to let loose and bar hop across Denver. Usually this time of year the weather was starting to get cooler which made bar hopping more of a chore. Tonight however, the weather was perfect which gave us plenty of reason to have some fun.

The first bar we went to was picked by Miko. He said this was the best bar in Denver with the hottest chicks so more than a few in our group were eager to get there.

The outside of the building was modern with sleek black walls and the walls that weren’t stone were see-through glass. Through the windows we could see people dancing with lights strobing through the air.

We quickly made our way inside and were ushered to a VIP section, one of the many perks of playing professional sports was getting recognized when out since it usually led to getting a more private area. The captain of the team was with us so of course we were bound to be recognized.

We all bounced around from group to group chatting and drinking. Some of the guys had found partners to dance with while the rest of us just hung out. Time passed and we all were eventually some level of intoxicated, some more than others. Nate brought up the idea of heading to the Pur, a rooftop bar with a chill atmosphere. A group of us thought that was a great plan. The constant bass and flashing lights got old as the night wore on.

The five of us; Gabe, Nate, Miko, Gru and myself headed toward the back door. We hoped we could escape quietly and back doors were usually best for doing that.

The heavy door swung shut behind us as we spilled into the cool Denver night. A noise caught my attention, turning my head to see who else was out here, I was met with a scene I wasn’t expecting. A man had a woman pinned to the side of the building. Her feet dangled off of the ground and her hands gripped his that were circling around her throat. Time seemed to stop and instinct took over as I rushed to them. Before I could comprehend what I was doing my fist was sailing through the air, connecting with the man's face before he fell to the ground. The girl slumped to the side of the building in a heap. Concern for her swam through my body but I knew this guy had to leave before I could help her.

The man stumbled to his feet. By now the guys had joined me, putting ourselves between the pair.

“Is there a problem?” Gave asked

“Mind your business” the man mumbled.

Rage burned through my body and it took everything in me to not pummel this guy.

“I don’t think so.” I called out.

The man took a moment. His eyes scanned each one of us. He must have eventually decided he was outnumbered and didn’t want to take his chances.

“This isn’t over you fucking bitch!” He yelled before stumbling through the door we had just come out of. Relief flooded me now that we didn’t have a fight on our hands. A whimper from behind me had me turning and dropping to my knees.

“Are you okay?” I asked. My eyes scanned over her checking for major injuries. Her breathing hitched as she tried to push herself up to stand. Halfway up her legs seemed to give way. Before she could tumble to the ground I grabbed her, hauling her to her feet and holding as much of her weight as I could.

Her hands tangled in my shirt holding on for dear life. There’s no way she would be able to make it home and I didn’t trust leaving her like this with a stranger. Looking around the group of guys, Gabe was the first to speak up.

“What’s your plan? Get an Uber?” He asked.

“Yeah, I think I will take her to my place. I have a spare room she can sleep in and she can figure out something in the morning”

The guys nodded in agreement. No one wanted to leave her alone right now. Especially not with her angry boyfriend, or ex boyfriend I hope, on the loose.

“I’ll get you guys an Uber,” Gru piped up.

“Thanks” I muttered, turning my attention back to the girl clinging on to me.

The rest of the wait was quiet. No one talked about going anywhere else for the night. I’m sure at this point everyone wanted to go home and decompress from what had happened. Before long the Uber pulled up and I shuffled us around to open the door. With some adjustments I was able to sit her down and close the door before nodding to the guys and making my way around the car to climb in beside her.

The driver took off immediately, glancing in the rear view mirror between the two of us. We didn’t make it far before i turned to her,

“I’m André by the way”

Her sad eyes met mine and for a moment I didn’t think she would say anything until I heard a whisper.

“Y/N”

Her voice sounded awful and the emotion behind her eyes told me how exhausted she really was.

“I didn’t know where you would want to go so I figured you could come to my place and then decide what you want to do,” I told her.

She looked at me again before croaking out a “thank you”. The rest of the ride was quiet. Once we arrived at my place I figured out why it was quite. At some point during the drive Y/N must had fallen asleep, her head was leaning against the window and her body was curled right around herself.

I climbed out of the car and went to her side. Carefully I opened the door, catching her head when it went to fall. Surprisingly she didn’t wake so I slid my arms under her lifting her out of the car and pulling her against my chest.

Unlocking the door and navigating through my apartment while carrying another person was harder than I would have imagined. I made it to my guest room and laid her on the bed. Not wanting her to wake up uncomfortable I took her shoes off before covering her with blankets and shutting the door on my way out.

I settled on the couch with a beer from the fridge before releasing the breath that seemed stuck in my chest. The last thing I thought about before drifting off was the broken girl sleeping in the other room.

#andre burakovsky x reader #andre burakovsky #nhl #hockey #colorado avs #colorado avalanche #gabe landeskog #gabriel landeskog #nathan mckinnon #philipp grubauer

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Through Hoods, Through Lace, Through Hearts--We'll Find Our Healing PT.1

Jason Todd x Reader Story (Arkhamverse)

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I started playing Arkham Knight again and got inspired. Who woulda thought?? Enjoy! -Thorne

Gotham wasn’t exactly safe since Batman—or Bruce Wayne—had died. All things considered, it wasn’t as bad as it used to be now that Red Hood had moved in and started tackling the criminals Batman had left behind—permanently. Killer Moth had been the first and Roman Sionis was the second to go, and while Red Hood hadn’t outright claimed it, the leftover crew that hadn’t been pumped full of lead, had said that they saw the vigilante leaving, so it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. And it didn’t stop there.

Red Hood had started in on Penguin’s gang too. Now that Batman wasn’t around to stop the weapons and drug smuggling, it’d given the infamous gang leader a free ticket into Gotham. There were some reports about the neighboring vigilante Nightwing coming over from Blüdhaven to stop him. Rumor had it that someone said they even saw him and the Red Hood working together at one point, but it didn’t seem all to believable as the latter didn’t seem to be the partnering type.

That being said, with no one to stop him from killing all the criminals he wanted, a lot of the small-time fish got out of the business, not wanting to be met at the end of Red Hood’s handguns—it’s the exact reason she got out of the game. The money was good, and she was a damn good thief, but no amount of payout was worth her life. But somehow, trouble always managed to find her again.

***

Her file might’ve gotten deleted from GCPD’s database, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take the easy way down the street and risk an officer recognizing her. She stuck to the back alleys like usual, ignoring the catcalls and sleazy comments about her outfit, but still keeping her brass knuckles around her hand—could never be too careful in Gotham.

Working an honest job sucked in her opinion, and the only thing more humiliating than working at Super-Babes was the number of tips she was getting at the end of her shift. Maybe if she smiled and flirted a bit more, they’d give her a tenner instead of a fiver. She’d half a mind to shove that five down the asshole’s throat after he ran his hand up the back of her thigh, but she was lucky that Tony had been working the kitchen shift—watching him throw the guy out on his ass was payment enough.

Even if she was managing to scrape by, working a restaurant job was kicking her ass, and something deep inside her itched for one more heist, but with the Red Hood stalking the city, there was no way in hell that she was going to risk it. The man had a reputation for leaving bodies and shell cases, and she wasn’t going to be the former. No, she was working towards a better future, getting back on track, and even if she was waitress, she was doing a lot better than most of the old crew. Most of them had either joined up with Black Mask, in hindsight, a horrible error on their part, or gotten thrown back into lockup. She was lucky—she got out during the recovery of Gotham after the whole Scarecrow and Arkham Knight deal. But that didn’t stop them from sending her the occasional request of her skills. All they received was a big ‘fuck no and fuck you’.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N). Finally tracked you down.” Speak of the devil.

“Alex,” she sighed heavily as she turned halfway, catching sight of her old partner—and old flame, but that wasn’t important. “Figured you would at some point.” Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

Alex chuckled and leaned against the wall. “No need to be so touchy. I just wanted to talk.”

(Y/N) shook her head and hiked her purse higher onto her shoulder, fingers tightening around the brass knuckles in her pocket.

“If it’s not about my next shift at Super-Babes, I don’t give a rat’s ass what it is,” she countered, glaring at him.

“That’s where you’ve been working?” he questioned, but his tone gave way to the knowingness in his gaze. “Really?”

“Not like there’s anywhere else for ex-thieves to apply, Alex,” (Y/N) grumbled. “Employers are pretty meticulous when it comes to criminal records.”

“I’m not.”

She glowered at him. “I’m not interested in whatever you want me to do for you.”

“Even if you’ll get paid?” he suggested.

“I can’t believe I’m going to ask,” she sighed, eyes narrowing at the grin that split across his face. “What are you doing?”

Alex pulled out a file and walked up to her. “I knew you couldn’t resist a big payout.”

“Fuck you,” she grunted, swiping the manilla folder from him. “Shine a light for me.”

He pulled out his phone and flicked his flashlight on, watching as she read the papers, occasionally flipping the sheets.

All at once, she paused and gaped at him. “Wayne Manor?” She blinked. “You wanna `excavate Wayne Manor?”

Alex nodded and turned the flashlight off, stowing the phone back into his pocket. “Good plan, isn’t it?”

(Y/N) breathed in shock and lowered the folder. “Are you insane?”

“I’m failing to see your issue with this.”

“You want to excavate the home of a dead man. You really can’t see the issue with it?”

“That he’s dead?” Alex offered. “Technically that’s not graverobbing. He’s been dead for like a year and a half.”

(Y/N) turned and took a step. “That’s not the issue Alex!” She spun back around and hissed, “Bruce Wayne was Batman.”

“Keyword was. Not anymore.”

“I don’t give a shit. If Bruce Wayne was Batman, then there’s a very strong chance that there’s still defenses laid around the grounds.”

“In that pile of rubble? Not likely, but that’s why I need you to help me.”

“No,” (Y/N) declared. “I’m not going anywhere near that place.”

Alex let out a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. “And why not? You never really liked Batman. Didn’t he put you in jail once or twice?”

“Bruce Wayne was a good man that did his best to help this city whether he was dressed as Batman or not.” She affirmed. “He saved people, gave them jobs, helped them turn their lives around. No,” she shook her head. “I don’t want any part of this job, Alex. Now, later, or forever. I’m trying to do better, and you should too.”

Alex scoffed. “Oh please, getting tips for dressing like slutty Wonder Woman isn’t doing better (Y/N), and you know it.”

She ignored the insult and shrugged. “Maybe not, but I go to sleep at night knowing that I’m not going to get shot by Red Hood or some greedy gangbanger.”

At that, Alex paused and stared at her. “Are you really afraid of that prick?”

(Y/N) scowled. “That pricktook out Black Mask and his entire operation within twenty-four hoursthen immediately turned his attention on the rest of the scumbags in this city.” Taking a step towards him, she added, “He doesn’t break bones and leave you lying in pain like Batman did, Alex. He makes sure you don’t get up again. Ever. I’m not risking my neck for anything that’s stuck in Wayne’s basement.”

The man across from her was silent for a moment, then sighed. “I can’t sway you in any way?”

She yanked her hand out of her jacket pocket and flashed the knuckles around her hand. “I’d stop swaying and start running instead.”

Alex opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was, “Oh fuck!” then he spun around and hauled off like his ass was on fire.

(Y/N) stood there dumbfounded. Sure, she could be intimidating, but there was no way she was that scary. Instead of questioning it, she shrugged and shoved the folder into her skirt, then turned sharply on her heel to start on her way back to her apartment. Until she walked straight into someone’s chest.

She gasped as she stumbled backwards, knowing she was going to fall on her ass when strong hands grasped her upper arms, keeping her upright. (Y/N) looked up and met the very man she’d been talking about. Suddenly, Alex’s explicative and escape made perfect sense.

“Oh fuck!” she blurted out, and impulsively swung her knuckled fist at the jaw of his helmet. He caught her hand with an ease and spun her around, pressing her front up against the brick wall.

“Fuck me. Oh, fuck me,” she hissed, cursing herself for not telling Alex to stick it where the sun didn’t shine the second he found her. Now here she was about to get murdered by a trigger-happy vigilante with a grudge.

“Really? Right here? But someone could see us?” The humor in his tone drew a startled laugh from her and she pressed her cheek against the wall, so she could see him.

“I swear to God I don’t have anything to do with him. Fuck, I’ll tell you whatever you want about him and his plan if you don’t kill me.” (Y/N) sucked in a breath. “Please don’t kill me. I swear I stopped pulling heists after Halloween last year. I work a decent job. I keep my nose clean. I don’t get involved in that shit anymore. Please, God, don’t—”

“Will you stop talking for like ten seconds?” Red Hood griped, one hand leaving the grasp he had on her arms behind her back to feel around her middle.

“HEY!” she shouted, thrashing wildly. “GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!”

He pressed her harder to the wall. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when you get your fucking hands out of my skirt your fucking pervert!” (Y/N) spat, leaning on one leg to kick at him with the other.

“All I want is what’s in your skirt,” he sighed and pressed one of his thighs against the one kicking him. “Christ,you’re a handful.”

“And you’re a fucking sicko!” she retorted indignantly. “Is this how you get your rocks off? Assaulting innocent women? You’re so fucking disgu—”

“Got it,” Red Hood declared, and yanked out the file she’d shoved in the side of her skirt. (Y/N) fell silent when he held it beside her head. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

She could tell he was smirking behind the red helmet and she scowled at him. “You’re fucked up, buddy.”

Shrugging, he flipped open the file and started reading. “Would’ve been easier if you hadn’t tried to run on me.”

“Well excuse me for thinking I was about to get murdered and having the initial instinct to haul ass.”

Red Hood chuckled at that, and despite how wrong the entire situation was, the low drawl made shivers go down her spine.

“Wanna tell me about your friend?” he coaxed and (Y/N) froze.

“He’s not my friend,” she suddenly protested. “I haven’t been around Alex since last year.”

“Really? You two seem fairly chummy.”

(Y/N) craned her neck to look at him. “We used to fuck when we worked together.”

“Mhm,” he hummed knowingly. “Lover’s spat then?”

Barking a laugh, she countered, “Like you wouldn’t believe.” She stared at him. “I got out when you started putting people down. Didn’t want to be a casualty.”

“That’ll do it,” he snickered. “So, you don’t know what Alex’s been up to since last year?”

“No, and I want it to stay that way, but he thinks that if he waves enough heists in my face, I’ll cave and run back to the money.” (Y/N) groaned and rested her head against the wall. “Look, I don’t know what he’s planning, and I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with whatever that plan it. Honest to God.”

She gazed at him, feeling something akin to tears gathering in her vision, and pled, “Take the file. Hell, take all the money I’ve got in my purse if you want, just don’t kill me.” A single tear ran down her cheek. “Please, I’m begging you. I don’t wanna die now.”

Red Hood’s weight disappeared from her back and he murmured, “I’m not going to hurt you. I want the opposite in fact.” The honesty in his words made her body feel weak and her knees started to go out beneath her. “And there she goes.” He caught her before she fell.

Gently lowering her to the ground, he helped her sit against the wall. (Y/N) leaned her head back and let out a long sigh.

“Oh, thank God.”

He laughed. “Life flashing before your eyes?”

She gave a half-hearted smile. “You’ve got no idea.”

This time when he laughed, it was dark, and it made her stomach churn. “Actually, I do.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, then he knelt in front of her, handing her purse back to her.

“Here.”

(Y/N) took it with a nod and stared at him. “So, what happens now?”

He was quiet for a moment, then he waved the file. “I go stop your friends from digging around Batman’s home.”

“Good luck,” she replied, starting to her feet when he tutted.

“Ah-ah-ah.” He motioned for her to sit back down. “We’re not done yet.”

She grunted at him. “What do you want?”

“Information on your friends.”

(Y/N) felt her brows furrow. “Can’t you find that out yourself?”

Red Hood shrugged. “I could, but I’m always looking to make my job easier.” He observed her for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of hundred-dollar bills.

Waving it in front of her, he said, “You tell me what you used to do for them and what all they’ve got going on, and you can have this.”

(Y/N)’s jaw went tight as she stared at the roll. That could pay rent and bills for at least two months. She needed the money. Her eyes darted to the mask and she swiped for the roll, but he raised it out of her reach.

“Nope,” he ribbed. “Info first.”

“Ass,” she grumbled, but conceded with a sigh. “Fine. Have it your way.” (Y/N) clambered to her feet and dusted off her tacky skirt, watching as he did the same.

“Follow me to my apartment.” Before he could say a word, she thrust a finger into his chest. “And do it from the rooftops so people don’t see you.” Her face set in a glare. “I don’t need any unwanted guests trying to get in because they saw you following me.”

She started off when Red Hood grabbed her forearm, not harshly, but firm enough to make her stop and stare at him questioningly.

“What’s your name?”

She blinked, not expecting that. “It’s (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).”

He nodded. “And what did they call you when you worked as a thief?”

(Y/N) huffed. “Not everyone has an alias, Red Hood.”

Chuckling, he retorted, “Yeah, but someone as pretty as you no doubt had one.”

She felt her stomach flutter at his flirt and her cheeks warmed as she looked away and replied, “They used to call me, ‘The Lady in Lace’.”

“The Lady in Lace?” he repeated, then stood next to her and pulled out a grappling gun. “Have a matching outfit, Lady Lace?”

(Y/N) shoved him in the side. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I think I’d rather see,” Red Hood flirted and pressed the button, shooting off towards the roof of the building.

It was gonna be a long night.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x reader imagines #red hood x reader imagine #dc comics #dc imagine #dc imagines #batman arkham knight #arkham knight #arkhamverse

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duskandstarlight · 3 years

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Embers & Light (Chapter 9, Cassian POV)

Notes: I had a lovely anon this morning ask for a POV from Cassian’s POV in E&L when he rubbed salve onto Nesta’s back. So, here you go, folks. As usual, apologies for any typos etc etc.

And for those needing a reminder of what happened in chapter 9, you can read it here.

Waiting outside of Nesta’s bedroom door was torture. Not just because Cassian would soon be touching Nesta’s bare skin, but because he knew she was trying to relinquish control by making him wait. And Cassian had been waiting for a long time now. Much longer than was necessary for Nesta to remove her nightgown and wrap herself in a towel.

Cassian bit back the snarl that wanted to emit itself from his throat, because rising to the deliberate wait would give Nesta too much satisfaction. And this was the game they played; continually trying to get one up on the other, riling and prodding and poking until they hissed and snarled and flames sparked between them.

So, Cassian waited patiently. He scented the chamomile salve wafting under the door and—Nesta. More intense than before. Jasmine and vanilla and her. Intoxicating and fiery and steely at the same time, as if she were forged from something entirely different from anyone else in the world.

It was addictive and exhilarating. It woke Cassian up, as if he had only been slumbering before. Nearly five hundred and fifty years of floating through life until Nesta Archeron came along and disrupted the course of things, like a knife thrust through the heart.

Footsteps sounded across the carpet and Cassian straightened, before he decided that a relaxed posture against the doorframe would irritate her more. He only just had time to arrange his expression into one of bored disinterest before the door opened.

Cassian cocked a lazy eyebrow as if to ask what took so long, but Nesta only turned immediately on her heel. He trailed after her into the cold room, trying not to stare at the creamy expanse of her back that peaked beneath her loose golden brown hair—the wings of her shoulder blades and the three freckles which dotted down the far too prominent nodules of her spine where they met her neck.

When Nesta turned back to face him, her pewter eyes were brimming with challenge, daring Cassian to comment on her lack of clothing. But he only twirled a finger—a silent order.

For a moment, Cassian thought she’d deny him, but then she obeyed—for once.

“All over?” he asked, making his voice deliberately practical rather than playful.

Slowly, Nesta dipped her chin. A long pause followed, as if she had forgotten that she had to relinquish the towel. But Cassian did not taunt her. Remained silent and patient, until she seemed to realise it for herself.

When she pulled the towel around to her front, that scent intensified. And when Nesta pulled her hair around her shoulder to expose her neck, Cassian’s nostrils flared.

Fucking hell, sometimes Cassian wondered how he controlled himself around her. Even his blood thrummed beneath his skin, pushing towards her, to the name that beat and chanted on the wind and in the back of his mind, always: Nesta, Nesta, Nesta.

His eyes snagged on that column of skin, and the temptation to bow his head and sink his teeth into her flesh was suddenly so overwhelming that Cassian almost took a step backwards.

But then a glimmer of apprehension fluttered down the bond and that urge vanished, as if it had never existed at all.

“Let me,” Cassian murmured, stepping towards Nesta so he could help to move the remaining tendrils of hair that tumbled down her back over her shoulder.

He ignored the electric sparks that shot through him as he swept his calloused fingers over her bare skin. And when that unblemished skin pebbled under his touch, Cassian realised just how freezing the room was—he wouldn’t have been surprised if his breath misted in front of him.

“Sorry,” he said softly. “I'll be quick, I know it's cold.”

“Just get it over with,” Nesta replied. Beneath his hands, her body was ramrod straight—so preternaturally still it was unnatural even to Fae.

So, Cassian tried his best to set Nesta at ease as he rubbed the salve between his palms, warming it before he dared touch it to her skin. “This stuff is good,” he said conversationally. “I use it a lot. I know humans usually have the worst muscle pain on their second and third day, but Fae bodies recover more quickly. You’ll be sore tomorrow, but it shouldn't last much longer than that.”

Beneath his hands, he felt every inch of her skeleton. Nesta’s body was so thin it felt as if her skin was like paper—as if the bone might pierce through if his touch was too firm.

The knowledge made his stomach clench so fiercely he wanted to smash his fist into the wall. He had let this happen. He had let—

“Good,” Nesta clipped in response, but the sound was coarse, pushed through gritted teeth as his hands skated over what he had guessed earlier to be a sore spot between her shoulder blades.

“You need to start eating right, too,” Cassian dared to say, as his hands traversed down her lower back. He wasn’t sure where the confidence came to comment on her weight, not after she had spat at him when he had pleaded for her to eat at breakfast the other day. “And lots to gain back the weight. I can tell—”

Hot, sharp anger stabbed through him so fiercely that suddenly Cassian couldn’t breathe. Because across the lower curve of Nesta’s back was four silvery scars—claw marks made by ragged nails that raked their way underneath the nightgown pooled at her hips.

The air between them shuddered.

Free of siphons, Cassian’s Killing Power was untamed and unchecked. And that trembling… that was what happened when Cassian was furious enough for his magic to tumble out of him before he could stifle it.

He could not remember the last time it had happened. Not for four hundred years, at least.

“How old is that scar?”

His words were low and fucking dangerous, he knew that. His hands had stilled on her skin, but as he spoke, his left hand moved on instinct rather than logic.

Nesta stilled when he brushed his fingers over what must have been deep gauges. Gently, he traced the path of each cruel line—

“What scar?”

Cassian paused at the thick quality to Nesta’s voice, as if she had wrangled the words out of her throat lest they become lodged there.

That fury spiked again and the windows rattled. “Nesta, is that scar new or is it from that human?”

The way he spoke was too forceful and too commanding. He knew that before the mist started to spark from her fingertips. Before his magic began to roar in his veins at the sight of her power.

The way in which Nesta whirled on the spot was so fast that Cassian thought he’d blinked and missed it. “You said you would do this quickly.”

Despite the hiss, Nesta could not conceal the vulnerability that flickered in her eyes. It was that rare glimpse into that normally closed off tunnel that allowed Cassian’s roiling anger to still for long enough for rationality to kick in.

Slowly, Cassian loosed a long breath and dragged the back of his hand over his forehead in an attempt to smooth away his twisted expression. “I’m sorry Nesta, ok? Just… let me do this. Turn around.”

Those mercury eyes stared him down but Cassian did not balk. Instead, he scoured that beautiful, steely face. Never had Cassian witnessed Nesta smile, but even without it she was perfection. The Cauldron could not have Made someone more stunning and deadly. Even as a human, Nesta had been more breathtaking than any Fae Cassian had ever set his eyes on—would ever set his eyes on.

Nesta must have found something in Cassian’s expression, because slowly—with a final, deathly glare—she turned her back to him.

It was a sign of trust and one Cassian did not take lightly.

Scooping up some more salve, Cassian silently continued his task, gliding his hands over those taut, sore muscles. When he reached those scars again, his hands ghosted over them in a way that was too tender. The skin was ridged and Cassian dared to run a a calloused thumb over the raised bumps.

To his surprise, Nesta did not bat him away or set him alight.

“I’ll kill him for you, if that’s what you want,” he murmured darkly.

That haughty chin tilted upwards. “Why should I let you? It would take the joy out of knowing I can do it myself whenever the mood strikes.”

A low laugh skittered out of him. “Whilst that is a good point, the offer still stands. Or perhaps I can come with you, when you do decide to pay him a visit."

Screwing the lid back on the salve, Cassian placed it on the dresser, averting his eyes as Nesta quickly pulled her nightgown back up. Her skin was covered in goosebumps from being exposed to the cold air, and Cassian glanced towards the open, unlit hearth stacked neatly with pine logs. “I’ll get a log burner installed for your room this week.”

Nesta’s head snapped to look at him. She had been staring longingly at the heaps of blanket on her bed.

It was obvious she was desperate for him to leave.

“I —“ she started, but then she broke off. For a moment, silence fell, and Cassian knew she did not know how to concede—to say thank you.

So, he shot her a crooked grin and said, “I’ll see you bright and early for round two. Don’t be late.”

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#embersandlightfic #acotarfanfiction #nessianfic #nessian #nesta x cassian #nestaarcheron #cassian #acosf #acofas #acomaf #acowar

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solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

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45.06°N, 1.656°E

Summary: Rouge deserves more cool.

Word count: about 4200 words

Author’s Note: Hopefully my writing abilities haven’t deteriorated too much over the hiatus- but either way, please enjoy! (Side note: this is technically set after Scars You Can’t See, but it isn’t vital to read that if you haven’t already)

...

It was truly a beautiful day outside in Empire City. Puffy clouds drifted across a rich blue sky, a light breeze pushing them along as the sun shone down brightly- just enough to bring the temperature up to a comfortable range. Its rays shimmered upon one of the many tall, silvery buildings that this city was known for, threatening to leave a temporary mark on the vision of anyone who looked at it for too long. This particular building advertised itself as an insurance company’s headquarters, and it looked perfectly in place amongst all the other skyscrapers in the city.

The activities going on inside, however, were anything but ‘in place’.

Near the very top of the towering structure, a bat sat in front of a wall-sized computer screen, her black-gloved fingers flying across the keyboard. Firewalls and security systems fell like sandcastles swept out by the tide- no corner of this building was safe when she was in control. Identity checks meant nothing to her, passwords were a breeze, and two-factor authentication? A joke.

Rouge smiled in satisfaction, taking a break to stretch out her fingers now that she was successfully through the various measures designed to keep hackers like her out of these computers. With a click of the mouse and a few keys tapped, the various sums of money the people who worked here had stolen began to make their way back to their rightful owners’ bank accounts.

After all, this building didn’t actually house an insurance company. That was just a cover story for the real business here- draining the cash out of innocent people’s funds. Rouge had been determined to stop this as soon as she’d learned about it before any more people got hurt (when she stole it was usually from rich people who could afford to have one of many diamonds go missing- this was just cruel!), and now she’d successfully completed about half the job. Just returning the money wasn’t quite enough, of course- this scheme had been running for over a year now, and it was about time someone put a stop to it for good.

That was where her friends came in.

While she manned the cameras, Shadow and Omega were grabbing plenty of physical evidence from the various offices throughout the building- more than enough to incriminate everyone who worked here. Rouge’s job was mostly to ensure that they could get what they needed without any serious trouble. It might be a difficult task, considering that Omega was set on blowing up most of the tech stored here...but she was prepared to deal with that.

The bat leaned back in her chair, catching a quick glimpse of herself in the window as she did so. Ever since they’d left G.U.N., a great perk (in addition to the lack of association with a corrupt military organization, obviously) was that they could wear whatever they wanted on the job. Before, Rouge had really been pushing it on ‘formality’ with her jumpsuit alone, and even then she hadn’t been allowed to wear anything else while on the job for the sake of ‘consistency’.

Now, in a drastic change from her usual style, she wore a tight black leather jumpsuit over a purple shirt, complete with white gloves and high-heeled boots. The latter two had neon blue accents, too, providing a burst of color as well as an actual light source to see by- perfect for dark missions.

Shadow and Omega hadn’t been allowed any personal effects re: clothing before due to the fact that a few too many supervisors saw them as weapons and not people. Rouge had of course argued against this, but there was only so much one person could do.

Now, though, the bat had insisted that both of her friends get more clothing- ‘if nothing else then to stick it to them’ were her exact words- and they had both taken to it quite well after an initial period of hesitancy. Omega in particular had been quite devastated (and then promptly offended) upon discovering that no leather jackets were currently produced in his specific size. Eventually, however, he was placated with the offer of a fedora, claiming it made him look ‘VERY MYSTERIOUS’. He had now taken to collecting hats as well as weaponry.

Shadow could fit into a leather jacket, on the other hand, and consequently owned about five of them, three of which he’d bought within the same week. Today he wore one with red stitching, and while he hadn’t had anything to say about it, Rouge had caught him admiring it in the mirror before the mission (at which point he scowled, blushed green to his ears, and teleported away).

Right now, though, he and Omega were quietly discussing which documents to take and which ones to leave behind. It would raise suspicions far too quickly if the criminals inhabiting this building came back to discover a completely bare office, after all, so they only took several receipts of major transactions as well as a list of the bank account numbers that had been hacked- and some future targets as well.

(Was this whole thing illegal? Kind of. Did anyone really mind so long as they were helping others? Not really. After all, Tails was totally not old enough to fly a plane, but at this point the government had basically thrown up their hands and said ‘whatever I guess’, so it was fine.)

“ROUGE.” Omega said suddenly, making the bat stop her musing and drop her feet from the desk. “THIS IS IMPORTANT.”

“Yeah, hon? What is it?” she asked, ready to deal with any problems that might arise.

“MY HAT KEEPS FALLING OFF. I REQUIRE SOME SORT OF METHOD TO KEEP IT ON.”

The bat sighed and gave a relieved laugh as Shadow hissed, “Omega! This is a serious mission!”

“It’s alright, Shadow. Omega, we’ll find some double-sided tape or something when we get home, alright?”

The robot paused for a moment, thinking. “THIS IS ACCEPTABLE.”

As Rouge watched, they gathered up the rest of the items and began to move towards the lobby. Today was an off day for the ‘business’, so most of the hallways would be empty. The secretary out front would take his usual break to go get lunch in two minutes as well, giving them a clear chance to escape.

And of course that was when everything went wrong.

It turned out that leaving G.U.N. (while the right idea) wasn’t without its occasional disadvantages. If they’d still been part of the military organization, then they would’ve had the resources to figure out that these criminals were more than a little paranoid, so their security system ran diagnostics every hour on the dot. When it discovered the hacking, it locked Rouge’s access to any other computer terminal and then restricted every single application on that one computer.

These people weren’t exactly beginners when it came to computers, after all.

The bat jumped out of her chair the second her computer glitched and froze, panicked. “Guys. Guys, get out of here right now.” she said urgently into her microphone. “I can bust out a window but you two have to go right now-”

She froze as, on the screen, multiple armed guards and two gigantic mechs dropped down onto the ground level and pointed their guns at Shadow and Omega. The robot moved to cover the hybrid’s back as Shadow pulled his favorite katana sword out of its scabbard.

Rouge refused to sit and watch another minute, kicking the door off its hinges hard enough to slam it against the opposite wall and tearing down the hallway to save her teammates.

Shadow and Omega fought well in the meantime, managing to take out one of the mechs and several guards too. Occasionally, Shadow even curled up and was promptly fired out of his friend’s cannon at top speed, turning into a deadly projectile all by himself.

Eventually, though, one of the guards got too smart and pulled out a stun gun, shocking Omega long enough to put the robot temporarily out of commission. Shadow spun around to defend his friend, using the Chaos Emerald he’d brought along to deliver a devastating blow- but he had nobody to watch his back now, and it barely took a minute before the mech found an opening to slam him into the wall as he dealt with the guards.

Shadow dropped to the ground weakly, temporarily unconscious. Omega was still struggling to get his systems back online.

Rouge, meanwhile, was furious.

The bat rushed to the balcony overlooking the lobby from the third floor, her teeth bared as she watched the mech move into position, prepared to bring its giant fist down on Shadow’s unmoving body. Flipping over the railing, she free-fell the three stories to the ground, slamming both heels into the marble and leaving a long crack across the floor. She snatched up the Emerald from the tile where it had fallen out of Shadow’s quills, holding it tightly in her hand.

“Leave him alone. Now.” she snarled.

When the mech pilot gave her nothing more than a cursory glance, raising the steel fist higher, Rouge charged.

An ultrasonic shriek exploded from her lungs, making every other human in the room double over and clutch their ears. At the exact same time, the glass in the extra-tall windows of the lobby vibrated, cracked, and then shattered into hundreds of pieces.

Rouge didn’t see any of that. Rouge didn’t care about any of that. All she could see was the hedgehog she’d come to care about so much about to be crushed by someone who barely even knew his name.

She jumped up and whirled around in the air, the power of her wings suddenly (strangely) strong enough to send the mech swaying backwards slightly, before lashing out with a kick that dented the chestplate of the thing and hit it hard enough to-

-and Rouge’s eyes widened-

-to send it flying through the shattered windows and down the street that the building faced, so far that it became nothing more than a speck in the horizon.

This was, incidentally, a mech that weighed over two tons.

Omega, near the other end of the room, silently thanked every inventor that had ever lived (aside from Eggman) that he had powered back on in time to see this.

Rouge, however, didn’t spare more than a second to think about it, instead dropping to her knees to check on Shadow. The moment she pressed the Chaos Emerald back into his hand, the hybrid’s eyes began to open slowly.

“Ugh….what happened…?”

“That moron of a pilot smacked you into a wall, hon. Are you gonna be okay?” Rouge asked, scanning his face for any sign of a concussion.

Shadow blinked twice, then suddenly sat bolt upright, his eyes wide. “...Rouge? Are you sure you’re alright?”

The bat frowned, confused, looking over herself. “Yeah, hon, I’m….”

She froze.

While Rouge had seen many strange things in her time, the sight of her lower legs and feet glowing bright purple was certainly a first.

As she jumped back from Shadow in surprise, she let go of the Chaos Emerald in his hand, making the aura surrounding her fade. “What...what was that?”

“YOU WERE SO COOL. THAT IS WHAT THAT WAS.” Omega declared, hauling himself to his feet and walking over. “YOU BEGAN TO GLOW AND KICKED THAT INFERIOR CREATION SEVERAL MILES AWAY. THE ONLY REGRET IN THIS SCENARIO IS THAT YOU WERE UNABLE TO CONTINUE DESTROYING YOUR ENEMIES, AS THERE WAS ONLY ONE OF THEM.”

Shadow looked up at her in surprise and- was that a little bit of awe? “I should have known you’d be able to use Chaos powers!” he said, shaking his head as he got to his feet. “Incredible...it’s no wonder you’re so resilient in battle.”

Rouge pointedly ignored the light flush on her face from all of this praise. “Well, we’ve got what we came for, so there. We’ll leave all of this evidence-” and clearly she wasn’t just talking about the papers- “for that new organization the government’s setting up. What’s it called again?”

Omega shrugged- an odd motion with his bulky shoulders. “THEY’RE STILL DECIDING. HOPEFULLY IT TURNS OUT TO BE SOMETHING COOL.”

“Well, whatever their name is, it’s their job now to deal with all this.” Rouge said, gesturing around at the general mess.

At that moment, the secretary returned with his food, only to stop dead in his tracks and stare at the three members of Team Dark amongst the wreckage of two gigantic robots and a lot of broken glass.

The bat ‘s face split into a wide, wicked grin, pointing directly at him. “And you’ll be the one to explain it to them!”

(It took one extremely short chase to retrieve the man- who foolishly thought he could lose Shadow and Rouge in the alleyways- before he was tied to one of the disgustingly ostentatious pillars by Omega. The team then went home and spent the next two hours watching Rouge glow and then break things…mostly things she meant to hit.)

…

Several days later, her team and Sonic's crew (plus Amy Rose) were in a different city, dealing with the usual biweekly Eggman attack. This one seemed, unfortunately, to not have most of the weak spots that usually came into play when fighting one of his giant robots, as both the power source and the mad scientist in question were heavily guarded.

However, after a particularly well-timed attack from Omega, Amy, and Knuckles all at once, Rouge spotted a panel that was currently rather dented and bent open with some wiring spilling out, and knew exactly what to do.

“Shadow! Omega! Cover me!” she shouted, leaping into the air and soaring towards the robot.

Immediately, she saw several smaller robots explode in her periphery, having fallen victim to the deadly lasers and Chaos Spears that her friends used. Her focus was on one thing and one thing only, though- making it up to that panel.

The moment Rouge latched on, she pulled open the panel the rest of the way and began to rewire the machine at an impressive pace. While she might not be the same kind of tech expert as Tails, who built devices and wrote code most people with a PhD couldn’t understand if they tried, one thing she certainly knew was how to make computers do what she wanted.

Eventually, though, Eggman caught on to what she was doing and tried to swat her off his mech with its two giant metal fists. “What do you think you’re doing down there with my robot?” he shouted, swinging at her wildly.

Suddenly, one of the fists in question promptly vanished, replaced by a smoking hole and a bunch of wires where a functioning steel hand was supposed to be. Rouge, startled, looked around for what could possibly have caused this- and promptly relaxed upon seeing Omega retracting his biggest laser cannon (which was glowing red-hot) back into his chassis with a glare up at his creator.

Thankfully, he’d also provided just the distraction she needed to rewire the last few parts, at which point she jumped off just as the robot began to spin wildly...and then its entire midsection exploded, launching the command center with Eggman still inside a good fifty feet into the air.

The bat landed on the ground to cheers from her friends and took a dramatic bow. Omega clapped a hand on her shoulder in a friendly way (which meant he only knocked the wind out of her and didn’t shove her several feet deep into the asphalt) as Shadow looked on with his arms folded, but still clearly proud.

“Wow, Rouge!” Tails exclaimed, his eyes wide and smile wider. “I didn’t realize you knew your way around that kind of tech that well- you should totally stop by my lab sometime!”

The bat shrugged. “It comes with the job, that’s all.” she insisted, but internally she was more than a little surprised- it still didn’t quite come naturally to her to consider that people would be impressed by what she did. All G.U.N. had ever told her was that she’d done ‘as well as was expected’, which made it seem like her skills were just average. Seeing someone who she’d mostly considered an acquaintance telling her how incredible her skills were when to her it was just ‘something I can do’ was...pretty nice, actually.

Rouge offered him a quick grin as the other three heroes came rushing up to her in varying states of surprise and excitement. “I just might take you up on that offer sometime.”

…

A week after that, Team Dark was spending time at the Station Square mall together- a common occurrence for them. It had good clothes, tolerable food, and most importantly lots of jewelry stores. They were here today because Rouge’s favorite was having a sale, and she refused to miss out on any opportunity to shop for gems.

After about an hour of looking around in the store (most of which was spent attempting to prevent Rouge from emptying said store and/or sneaking things out from inside locked cases), the three finally left with about four tiny bags of jewelry, which Omega wore hooked over his fingers. “THIS SEEMS WASTEFUL, BUT ALSO AMUSING.” he’d commented, at which point the bat riding on his shoulder gasped in mock outrage and began to vehemently defend the store’s choices.

They hadn’t gone more than a few steps, though, before she heard some gasps and squeals somewhere off to the left. She sighed. Some people seemed to have this odd hero-worship thing around Shadow, but the attention only made him feel awkward, so it looked like she’d have to play guard as usual here. Drifting down from her perch as the three young women approached, she said, “Alright, ladies, what are you here for?”

The bravest of the three moved forward, clutching something in her hands. “Uh…”

Rouge prepared herself to say no on behalf of her friend, to hear complaints like ‘why can’t we talk to Shadow?? You suck”, but then-

“...can you sign this poster, please?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t— wait, what?”

The bat stared at the poster, her eyes wide. A picture of herself looked right back at her, a smirk spread across her printed self’s face as jewels dripped from the hand not resting on her hip.

The photo was rather outdated now, having been taken not long after the ARK disaster. Post-crisis, Sonic had insisted that everyone (except for Eggman, since he’d caused that whole mess in the first place) get recognition for trying to save the planet together...and that included her.

Rouge and Sonic had both been wearing Shadow’s inhibitor rings during that photo shoot. It was their way of making sure that even though he wasn’t with them any longer, even though nobody would really remember who he was, he’d still live on in some little way without a big announcement.

She took the poster quickly, shaking off old memories, and gave them a genuine smile- rare for strangers. “Of course, hon!” she said, taking the offered pen and signing her name with a flourish and a little heart.

The one who’d asked promptly squealed and clutched at the poster, a big grin on her face. “Oh wow, thank you sooo much!” she gushed. “You know, you’re, like, my hero, right? Everyone always just, like, says that you can’t look good and be a real hero at the same time, you’re either a sell-out or too serious...but, you’re, like, both?? And that’s just so, y’know, empowering? To see someone looking fabulous and being a hero, but like not taking any nasty comments about it?”

Both her friends agreed eagerly, and Rouge found herself blushing just a little at all this praise. “If either of you have anything else, I could write something on those too,” she offered, still feeling a little bit bewildered at the moment.

This earned her two simultaneous squeals of “Really?!” followed by a lot of frantic searching for paper. Rouge was more than happy to sign her name there too, even adding a little message to each of them- and to the poster for good measure. As the three fans cheered, snapped a quick selfie with her (which was something she so wasn’t used to either), and then rushed off with a “thank you so much!!” Rouge found herself still smiling as she turned to walk back to her friends.

Shadow and Omega had moved a little ways away during all of the fuss, and now they were sporting similarly pleased expressions with more than a little bit of smugness mixed in. “SEE?” Omega asked, and Rouge could tell he’d be smirking if he were able to do so. “WE HAVE TOLD YOU OVER AND OVER AGAIN THAT YOU ARE EXCEPTIONALLY COOL. YOU DIDN’T BELIEVE US THEN, THOUGH….DO YOU NOW?” He stopped there and somehow promptly assumed an even stronger I-told-you-so air than before.

“Maybe you’ll even get your own fanclub before long...oh, wait. Look what I just found.” Shadow added, tossing his phone over to her. Only the faintest of smirks was visible on his face (they were in public, after all) as Rouge stared at the screen proclaiming the current website to be “The Official Rouge Fansite (anyone feel free to join!!)”.

The bat found herself blushing to her ears, flattered and surprised by all of the support she hadn’t known existed until now.

Omega picked her up and set her on his shoulder, turning his head to look up at his friend. “COOL PEOPLE LIKE YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TO WALK PLACES.”

“And-” Shadow added, slinging the bags she’d acquired at the store over her shoulder. “-cool people like you shouldn’t have to carry anything either.”

Rouge wondered briefly if her grin might strain her face if it grew much wider. Leaping down for a moment, she hovered in the air just long enough to ruffle the quills on top of Shadow’s head before perching back on Omega’s shoulder and patting the robot fondly. “You two dorks are the best.” she said warmly.

Shadow huffed and began to walk on ahead, clearly embarrassed. “DORK.” Omega called after the hedgehog, his eyes brightening by about fifteen percent in good humor.

“She called you one too, you know.” Shadow replied without looking back.

“YES, BUT YOUR DORKINESS IS MORE OBVIOUS.” Omega declared, by now shouting across several stores as Rouge tried to stifle a laugh.

“If you don’t catch up and stop talking I’ll hide all the hats in your favorite store and you’ll never find them.” the hybrid growled.

Rouge promptly discovered that Omega, despite weighing a thousand pounds, could in fact move quite quickly when threatened with the loss of a chance to add to his new clothing collection. The robot fired all of his boosters at once, sending them flying down that particular wing of the mall and nearly slamming into a wall in the process.

After a spirited chase that lasted over five minutes (along with lots of shouts of “get him, Omega!” and jumping off balconies and general taunting), the group was promptly escorted out of the mall without a chance to enjoy the store they’d started the ‘fight’ over in the first place.

Rouge watched her two friends sulk for a minute before smirking suddenly.

“Guess what?” she asked, stepping back to look at both of them.

When she had their attention, she pulled out a nice new summer outfit with a laugh…from that same place.

“You didn’t.” Shadow said, staring at the clothing.

“OH, SHE DID.”

Rouge then proceeded to pull both a cool hat in all gold and a nice blue bomber jacket out from behind her back as well, her smile widening even more. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten you two at all. Or forgotten to pay, either.” she added quickly with a sigh. She soon shifted to watching with delight, though, as Shadow’s eyes widened considerably and Omega’s head whirled to fixate on her hand.

“HAND IT OVER.” he ordered, holding out his clawed, metallic fingers insistently.

“Well...since you asked so rudely...no.” Rouge replied, before leaping into the sky with a grin.

“What?” Shadow gasped.

The robot’s eyes narrowed. “DON’T YOU DARE.”

Rouge flew higher at that. “Oh, but I do dare.” She wheeled around and began to fly off at top speed, snickering at the sound of indignant shouts behind her. Soon enough, she heard the swish-swish of Shadow’s skates and the clanking of Omega not far behind.

They might be able to catch her eventually, she mused, soaring through a gap between buildings- she wasn’t that fast, really. It wouldn’t be easy for them at all, though.

After all, Rouge was just as powerful as they were, in her own way.

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #45.06°N 1.656°E #the title is based on rouge's theme from the mad space level in sa2!#i thought the title and the song were cool so why not #also if you want to *follow* the coordinates...you might find a surprise #hehe #by the way! as you might have notice i tried writing omega's dialogue in all caps this time #*noticed #is that better or worse? feel free to let me know!#and yes in the first scene rouge is wearing her 'elite agent' outfit from sonic forces speed battle :)#the fedora idea is from khi's fanart for sycs because i love that art SO MUCH #yes there are lots of clothes in this but honestly team dark seems like the type to be stylish i think #it's rouge's influence #(also how do people end fics well i need advice)#(it just never works quite right...)#anyway! as always thanks for reading!#:D #sol's fanfiction

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sprnklersplashes · 3 years

Text

jdronica+I kissed you in front of my ex (also on ao3)

The 7-Eleven is hardly much warmer than it is outside, but at least it’s drier. Veronica shakes the rain out of her hair as she steps in, shaking her head like a dog and sprinkling tiny droplets over the tiles. September announced its arrival in Sherwood with grey skies and bucket loads of rain, and three days in, the downpour shows no sign of stopping. It put a little bit of a damper to show up on the first day of her senior year soaking wet (pun intended because puns should always be intended), and there’s a growing sense of anxiety among students about whether or not the rain will let up in time for football practice to start.

But, where the rain might mess with first-day plans and be a pain for football fanatics, it’s the ideal weather for movie nights. The kind that involves piles of blankets, hot cocoa, and a combination of new releases and old favourites. The kind that, funnily enough, Veronica and Martha had planned for the weekend and scheduled when the sun was still out.

Maybe the weather was on their side.

“Okay, you grab the JiffyPop and drinks; I’ll raid the candy aisle,” Veronica instructs. “I’ll meet you at the counter.”

“Don’t go crazy on the candy,” Martha warns her. “Orange soda or blue?”

“Orange, and I will go completely crazy on the candy.” Martha raises her eyebrow, a fond shake of her head, but there’s little she can do when there’s a five-dollar bill burning in Veronica’s pocket. Veronica shoots little finger guns at Martha before bouncing down the candy aisle, taking stock of all the treats on offer.

She grabs a packet of Milk Duds because they go great with popcorn and a sharing bag of red vines too. She grabs a packet of the little watermelons (Martha’s personal favourite) and chuckles as she picks up a sharing bar of Hershey’s (private joke). She drops her candy stash into her basket and is in the middle of a debate between the packets of Sour Patch Kids and the packets of chips on sale when something, or rather someone, appears behind her.

“Want a Slurpee with that?”

She only jumps a tiny bit, and she’s glad because it doesn’t show how the stranger scared the pants off her. Mostly because she was lost in her head, but still, what was the asshole expecting, coming behind her like that? She turns around, her basket still on her arm, and she has an entire rant about convenience store etiquette ready, but it dies when she sees who it is.

Jason Dean, or as he prefers to be known, JD. New kids are something of a rarity in Sherwood, Ohio, which means he’s front-page news at school. Branded The New Kid, and he’ll probably still be that at graduation. People have done their best to Make Him Feel Welcome, as Ms. Fleming brightly suggested (demanded) they do, and despite some pleasantries, no one’s quite managed to get him to their lunch table. Most of the time, he’s alone, always with a different book. He’s gone from Baudelaire to Dickens to Orwell.

Not that she’s paying attention.

“Well, hello, Jason Dean.” She leans up against the counter and gestures to the cup in his hand. “Not my thing, but if you play your cards right, you can buy me a Big Gulp.”

“Blasphemy, little miss. Slurpee is the signature dish of the house. Did you say cherry or lime?”

“I said Big Gulp.” She lets the smile linger on her lips, feels it grow wider as he turns around. He laughs it off, and she takes note of the dimples in his cheeks, the way his hair falls forward into his eyes in a way that may or may not make her heart pick up.

“You’re Veronica, right?” he asks. “Veronica Sawyer.” He holds his free hand up. “Not stalking. I just sit two rows behind you in English.”

“I remember,” she replies. “Yes, it’s Veronica Sawyer.” She crosses her arms over her chest and chews thoughtfully on her lower lip. “So… may I ask what brings you to Sherwood, Ohio?”

His smile falters then, the spark dimming in his eyes, and his free hand slides into his pocket. She kicks herself immediately, her with her stupid attempts at flirting and her stupid nose poking into other people’s business. This is why she only sticks to Martha and occasionally Heather Mac, and if the universe wanted to remind her, it could have done it less painfully.

“Uh, new foster placement,” he tells her after a minute. “My old group home got too crowded, and it turns out the only other place that would take a teenager with insane daddy issues was all the way across the state.”

“Oh,” is all she can find to say, for all her teachers praising her for her brains. One word, one syllable. “Well, that’s….” Cool? Nice? Fun? Interesting? Nothing is appropriate here, no matter what direction she turns in.

But then Jason Dean taps her arm, wearing a smile that’s equal parts charming and apologetic, and the smoke in her brain begins to clear.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve been a bit more tactful there,” he says. “I know it’s a bit of a wild thing to drop on someone. My tragic hero backstory and all that.”

“Well, if it means you end up leading a life of crime-fighting and protecting our town, it all works out.”

“Maybe. Not sure if I can pull off the tights and leotard.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got the legs for it,” she replies, and when he bursts out laughing, so does she. It feels weird, almost familiar. Like she’s known him for far longer than three days. She shuffles closer to him, pulled forward by her curiosity.

He eyes her basket and opens his mouth to say something else, but then the little bell rings at the shop door, and Veronica lets out a soft curse when she sees who it is.

What exactly her ex-girlfriend is doing at the 7-Eleven, she can’t fathom. This was on her list of places she could most definitely keep going to regularly after they broke up, and that list is depressingly small. This is meant to be the part of town Heather Duke, or any of the Heathers don’t grace with their presence, not even Macnamara. If they divided up the assets after breaking up last month, the 7-Eleven was definitely in her pile.

Or maybe not, she thinks as she watches Heather cross the floor in her heels, loose change in her hand.

The universe just will not let her be.

Duke notices her after she does, dark eyes widening at the sight of her. Veronica’s at a loss for what to do, whether to wave at her, flip her off, or just ignore her completely. She needs to think of something soon because Heather is moving closer towards her, and the last thing she needs is a not-so-subtle reminder of how she’s doing so much better than she is.

Her brain turns off, her body going into autopilot.

Instinct says to grab the closest thing to her, and the closest thing happens to be JD.

She whispers, “I’m sorry,” just loud enough so he can hear a second before her lips touch his, and by that point, she can’t exactly back out.

She doesn’t know what’s crazier; her kissing JD or the fact he kisses her back.

His hand is flat against her back, his other one cupping her cheek. She doesn’t know how experienced he is in these matters, but damn, he’s not bad. She’d even call him good. Maybe great. He tilts his head slightly but still lets her keep control, and his lips are soft and slightly cold from the Slurpee. It’s just slow enough to make it interesting, and he doesn’t pull away when she kisses him again.

When she does pull away, Heather is far past them, her pace too quick to be calm, and Veronica smugly counts it as a victory.

That is until she realises her hands are still balled up in JD’s shirt.

“I am… so sorry,” she begins. “I just… I know I shouldn’t have, but I just needed to do something to-”

“Woah, woah, woah, Ronnie,” he says. She only blushes slightly at the nickname. “Just answer me one question.” She nods, words catching in her throat, and he points up to where Heather is. “Ex?”

“Yup,” is her meek response, and to her shock, he laughs.

“Okay, Veronica Sawyer,” he tells her. “No hard feelings.” She untangles herself from him and retrieves her basket from where she dropped it on the floor. She looks behind and finds his Slurpee sitting on the shelf, standing out amongst the candies.

She’s tempted by the Slurpee offer, after all. She needs something to stop her cheeks from burning.

“I should go,” she says. “My friend, she’ll be wondering where I am.” She backs up, her eyes unable to leave his grinning face. “Um, thank you very much. For being so understanding about… that. All of that. Uh, see you around maybe. Yeah.”

She manages to turn herself around and takes the opportunity to stop hiding and let out a silent scream. She moves to go, to run and pay for her candy, and start plan to avoid him as much as humanly possible-or change her name and flee the state, that could work-but then he calls after her, and she stops in her tracks,

“Hey!” he says. She turns to face him again, and while he keeps a respectable distance, she can still see the smile on his face, all soft angles and laugh lines, and the telltale butterflies begin in her stomach.

“You’re busy this weekend,” he says. “What about next?”

That’s the story of Veronica Sawyer and Jason Dean’s first kiss.

For those who want to know, their second involves her pinning up against the wall of a McDonald’s bathroom and him breathlessly whispering her name against her lips.

#heathers the musical #heathers fanfic #jdronica #pure au jdronica #veronica sawyer #jason dean #i wrote this over teh course of an hour and just posted it so yeahhhhhh.....#i miss heathers

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brandstifter-sys · 3 years

Text

Carry On

Five Times Remus Swept Virgil Off His Feet (and One Time Virgil Returned the Favor)

That's a FOB title if I ever saw one

Word Count: 2927 (Ao3)

Characters: all sides

Pairing: Dukexiety

Rating: T

Warnings: self-doubt, sex mention, swearing, mild gore mention, undertale references, dc comics references, charlie the unicorn references

inspired by @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes‘ post linked here

One…

Sans. Virgil truly hated this battle, but he was set on finishing this run to get to the true ending the next time around. Too bad he was getting his ass handed to him by a punny pile of bones!

He growled to himself as his fingers frantically danced over the keys. He didn't care if anyone came into the common area while he was there, he couldn't afford the stress from his room and everyone knew to stay away from him or else.

Remus was not one of those sides who did what he was supposed to do all the time. So when he popped up in the common area, he didn't think twice about lounging on the couch next to his favorite emo.

"Oh come on!" Virgil snapped at his computer as he lost again. He clawed at his hair and let out a long, agonized groan before flopping back on the couch. His hands were shaking and his heart was racing. He was one more loss away from committing murder.

"Uh oh!" Remus giggled and got up. He closed the laptop and grinned at Virgil as the emo tried to murder him with his eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Me? Well I have to make a delivery to the Grand Duke of the Imagination! And you have what I need!" Remus hummed and wiggled his shoulders. Virgil scowled and crossed his arms.

"What are you talking about?" he huffed, ignoring the mischievous twinkle in Remus' eyes. That was a mistake!

Remus swooped down and scooped him up bridal style, laughing at Virgil flailing in his arms and squawking like a gull. He would never drop him out of nowhere! Silly emo could trust him!

"I'm taking you to the Grand Duke so he can spoil you and cheer you up! By any means necessary!" Remus purred and winked, bringing a delightful blush to Virgil's face.

"What the hell?"

"You are my damsel in distress and I don't even have to slay a monster to make sure you're okay—unless you want me to, there's definitely a monster I want to see, in your—"

"No. I am so done with monsters today. Don't even make that joke. Just do what you were planning," Virgil huffed and averted his gaze, no longer squirming to get away. Remus could live with that as long as he could keep holding this tall drink of water!

Two…

Remus was just polishing his morning star when he decided it was a good time to harass his brother and talk about the only thing they seemed to agree on: butts!

He appeared in the common area to the sound of a Disney movie, it would have been perfect, but Roman was not alone on the couch. Oh no, he could clearly distinguish a mop of purple hair next to the prince’s own preened locks. Neither one seemed to notice the duke looming behind them, which was good. Surprising Roman was way too much fun!

“How can you claim this isn’t romantic and charming?!” Roman grumbled as Prince Philip and Briar Rose began to dance and sing in the forest. Virgil snorted and shook his head.

“There’s nothing more romantic than a total stranger in his 20s swooping in and interrupting a 16 year old girl’s furry fantasy without an introduction or asking,” Virgil droned sarcastically. He snickered at the offended gasp that came out of the prince’s mouth and shifted in his seat.

“You wanna pause this and grab some popcorn? My leg fell asleep.”

Before Roman could move Remus struck.

“Hello there! The angel from my nightmares, the shadow in the background of the morgue!” he sang and scooped Virgil into his arms, twirling around with the brightest grin imaginable. Virgil squeaked and clung to him, more out of surprise than fear. He should have seen it coming.

“I think my point stands,” Roman teased, smirking at the pair like a cheshire cat. Virgil shot him a death glare, daring him to say anything more while Remus giggled impishly between verses.

“Perhaps you should take care of that leg and we can continue later. I would hate to rob you of a moment like this!” the prince continued, making Virgil flush and plot his end. Remus laughed and brushed Roman off.

“Looks like I’m the dashing heroic prince today! Better luck next time Hoe-man!” he sang and sunk out for some much needed cuddles. Roman rolled his eyes, ignoring the sleight in favor of appreciating how cute those two could be. Plus he could rewatch his movie without critique!

Three…

Virgil was exhausted. After a long study session for the next video, making sure that Logan knew his lines and keeping Janus from making them take a break, all he wanted to do was fall into a coma. But he was still in the common area and he would have company if he didn't move, but that meant moving. He drooped, letting his limbs hang off the couch, wishing he had the energy.

That was a mistake, and he knew that he would regret it. Especially when something slimy glided up the back of his hand.

"Gross," he grumbled, not bothering to look at the culprit. Remus giggled and licked his hand again before kissing it. He got off the floor and on one knee, smiling at his emo.

"You know you love me!" he teased and brought Virgil's hand to his lips again, "You're like my personal damsel in distress and I just love saving you and making you feel like a princess!"

"I'm not a damsel, just tired. Can I take a nap in peace?"

"Not out here, Scare Bear! You know it gets crazy with the others around!" Remus giggled and scooped him up without any struggle.

"If you take me to your dungeon to do horrible things to me in my sleep, make sure I have both kidneys intact."

"No promises, Charlie!" Remus teased and resituated Virgil so he could rest his head on his shoulder, "But I can promise you a comfy bed and the best snuggle buddy ever!"

"You're bringing Winary? Hellhounds don't make for great cuddles. They stink of brimstone," Virgil mumbled against his neck.

"Nope! You get to cuddle with a stinky dukey!" Remus countered and walked towards his room with his precious cargo.

"I'd rather cuddle with you," Virge mumbled and curled into Remus' chest.

"But I am a stinky dukey!" he said, fighting back the urge to squeal. Virgil huffed and wrapped his arms around Remus.

"I like your scent. It's comforting, like a puppy that likes mud."

"You Sir are exhausted!" Remus declared, "And you are taking a long nap with me so you can get that snark back!"

"You better be there when I wake up," Virge answered, barely able to keep his eyes open. Remus was happy and he was sure to be there the whole time.

Four...

"Virgil, you can't just call Remus every time something mildly inconvenient happens. He's not your footman," Janus huffed as Virgil curled into himself. He was going to summon Remus for a good reason. It wasn't his fault that the duke showed up every time he stubbed his toe!

"I know that, Snake-face," he huffed, "I don't actually summon him when they happen. He just knows."

"And you do nothing to stop him. It's not good for you to be dependent on him for everything. There's a fine line between self-care and sinking into bad habits."

"I'm not sinking into bad habits, Janus. I'm fine with being toted around if it makes him feel like he's being heroic instead of a villain."

Janus sighed and shook his head. Virgil had a point, Remus needed to feel wanted and needed. And who better to provide that for him than Virgil? Remus adored him!

"And I want him to show up right now," Virgil mumbled and hugged his knees. His skin was crawling and he was freezing. Was it too selfish for him to want to have Remus hold him and keep him close? Was he taking advantage of Remus wanting to be someone's hero? Was he even good enough to get that kind of attention from the duke?

"Remus!" Janus called out, rather than sit by and watch Virgil spiral. He sank out at the same time Remus appeared.

Remus got one look at Virgil and immediately pulled him into his arms. Virgil melted into him and let out a contented sigh.

"Scare Bear!" Remus cheered and spun on his heels, "My spider sense was tingling! What's wrong, Bitter Sweetie?"

"I just need some creature contact," Virgil grumbled, "and you're the most comfortable creature I know."

"So no slaying your demons or disemboweling anyone?" Remus giggled and dropped Virgil on the couch before flopping on him. Virgil shifted and wrapped his arms around Remus' waist.

"Nah, just don't leave. I need a Cuddlefish."

"And you got me for as long you want!" Remus giggled and nestled his head under Virgil's chin.

"You're gonna be here for a while," Virge hummed and soaked in the warmth Remus provided.

"I don't mind," Remus said, "I like it here!" And that was an understatement.

Five…

Remus was just going to the kitchen for a snack—he had some prairie oysters with his name on them! But he paused in the middle of the hallway when he saw Virgil on a step ladder, painting a wrought iron fence mural over his door. He was so focused, so pretty, Remus had to stare.

"You know, creeping on someone who's on a ladder is considered a bad idea."

"Do I look like the guy who has good ideas?"

"No, I should know better, you like me."

"No talking bad about yourself!" Remus growled and loomed closer.

"Oh, that's not what I meant. I mean you like the one guy who can kick your ass and you keep calling him a damsel. Last I checked, I saved you from the Dragon Witch twice this week alone."

"It was hot!" Remus agreed as Virge bent over to get more paint on his brush, carefully holding onto the wall, "But that doesn't mean you can't be a damsel too! You're like Dick Grayson—perfectly capable of kicking ass, but also very much in need of some saving every so often! Plus I think you'd make those shorts look good! Almost as good as I'd look getting into them!" Virgil jolted away from Remus as he was getting up again and lost his balance.

It felt like forever, falling backwards with nothing to grab onto. He was sure the impact would be annoying, but not terrible. If he were any higher up his instincts could have easily taken over and he wouldn't land on his back. But that impact never came. Instead he landed in a pair of strong arms.

"I knew you'd fall for me and my feral mojo!" Remus giggled down at him. Virgil stared at him for a second before swiping his paintbrush over Remus' nose.

"Sure, Puppy, you tell yourself that," Virgil said with a smirk, "It's not at all because you had the audacity to call me Dick Grayson when I'm more of a Jason Todd."

"You're more of a hottie who needs to snuggle with me after that kind of fall!"

"You really need to consider just asking like a normal person," Virgil jeered and kissed his cheek.

"Why would you ever consider that? Boring! You need some excitement in your life and that's where I come in!"

"I thought you came in—"

"Dirty jokes are my job!"

"I thought you came in like Peter Parker on a wrecking ball. Chaotically trying to save me from every mild inconvenience," Virge reiterated and wrapped his arms around Remus' shoulders before kissing his cheek again. Remus was a happy boy.

And then...

It was just perfect! Remus was so excited to finally have a gift for Patton that he would like! He appeared in the common area in the kitchen, just out of sight of the duo watching Looney Toons. Patton and Virgil were in for a treat!

He set Fluffy on the floor and motioned towards the couch. The little thing sprinted off in a pale pink blur and Remus waited for the cooing and squealing from Patton.

His heart shattered when all he heard were horrified screams coming from the father figure. He sank out to his room and fought the urge to cry. Fluffy would be able to get back to the Imagination without him.

Virgil paused the show and watched Patton scoop up the hairless cat with tears in his eyes.

"Look Virgil!" he cheered and held up the cat like she was Simba, "A kitty I can pet!" Virgil blinked twice, confused as to how a cat found her way into the commons. That's when he spotted the green collar around her neck and the silver tag hanging from it.

"Can I keep her Virge?" Patton pleaded as Virgil checked the tag. He had a hunch that Fluffy was meant to be with Patton.

"You're asking me?" he jeered and got up, "Let's find the guy who made her and ask him. I'm pretty sure Remus set her loose to find you."

"Remus? He made this little angel?" Patton gasped and cuddled her to his chest. She purred and kneaded his hoodie, getting him to squeal again.

"I'll go get him, and let you two get to know each other," Virgil said with a half-smile. Patton beamed and him and sat on the couch, cuddling his new best friend. Virgil sank out before the cuteness became sickening.

But any mushy feelings faded when he appeared in Remus' room. Amid the weapon racks and canopic jars, Remus was curled up on his bed, hiding his head between his knees.

"Octopuppy?" Virgil asked softly and sat next to Remus. The duke looked up at him with his makeup running down his cheeks.

"Scare Bear?"

"What's wrong?" he asked and brushed a stray piece of hair from Remus' face. Remus shook his head and let out a ragged sigh.

"I can't make anything good."

"Your dog is not gonna be happy to hear that."

"She's a hellhound with three heads. She's not good or normal. But she's a good girl," Remus grumbled and wiped his eyes. He was not about to cry again. Virgil coaxed Remus into his lap and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"What makes you think you can't make anything good?"

"I made a cat for Daddykins and I really tried to make her perfect for him. But he screamed at the sight of her. You know, you were there," he pouted and hid his face in Virgil's hoodie. Virgil pouted and held him closer.

"Can I show you something?" he whispered, "Something that can prove you can make something good."

Remus nodded and clung to Virgil as he stood. The emo cradled him to his chest and smiled down at him.

"Looks like you're my damsel this time," he teased and sank out, adoring the blush that crossed Remus' face.

They appeared in the common area kitchen to the sounds of giggles and cooing. Remus looked to Virgil for answers only to get a smirk in return.

"Hey Pat!" Virgil called out and carried Remus into the next room. Patton was curled up in his hoodie, using the string to play with Fluffy. Remus had never seen him so genuinely happy.

"Virge!" he cheered, only to coo at the sight of the gruesome twosome.

"I found Remus, so go ahead and ask."

"Remus, can I keep Fluffy? Please? I'll take good care of her! I promise!"

"I made her for you, so yeah, of course you can," Remus answered, completely stunned. Virgil knew that tone all too well. He had only a matter of seconds before a tsunami of feelings crashed over the duke. He would need cuddles.

"Thank you so much Remus!" Patton squealed and hugged Fluffy, "I'm gonna show her my room!" He sank out, leaving the pair to claim the couch.

"You good, Pup?" Virgil asked and hugged the duke, leaning into the cushions. Remus nodded and nuzzled into his chest.

"Good, because right now you're stuck cuddling with me until my legs fall asleep," Virgil mused and kissed his head. Remus shuddered and his breathing hitched.

"I did good," he whimpered, "I finally did a good and made a good thing."

"Finally? Remus, you make a good thing every day—you make me feel loved. You're my knight in slimy armor."

"That's just cuz I love you."

"I love you too, and I think it's only fair that I get to be your dark knight for a while. Because it's okay to need a little help, even if you don't think you deserve it."

"Who taught you that psychiatry crap?" Remus pouted and hid his face in Virgil's hoodie so no one would see him crying.

"You might know him, he's a wily little imp with a lot of passion, a flair for the dramatic, and macabre tastes. He's a handsome sweetheart and don't even get me started on his butt."

"He sounds like a pain in the neck!" Remus giggled.

"Only if he bites," Virgil snickered, "and he's my hero. So don't you dare try to talk shit about the Grand Duke of the Imagination."

Remus giggled and clung to him. He couldn't ask for a better boyfriend and he was pretty sure he didn't want to either.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #dukexiety #patton sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #sex menton tw #gore mention tw #sandyscribed #what is editing? idk fam

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ldouble · 3 years

Text

Helluva Party | Steve Rogers x Reader

summary: As a former employee of S.H.I.E.L.D (on the very front lines), you're somehow pulled into attending a notorious Tony Stark party. That’s where you meet Steve Rogers, officially, and the two of you weirdly click. Two people - trying to make a new life, who keep getting sucked into their old ways.

characters: steve rogers x reader

The elevator effortlessly glides up, but your stomach feels like you’re on the twistiest and turniest roller coaster. You have to put a hand to your torso, repeat the words you tell patients when they feel sick for no reason, remind yourself it’s nothing.

Therapy is one thing to talk someone down from. When you’re calming someone down, its because they’re about to do some major self discovery, scientifically aided, and healed if not completely cured.

They have no reason to worry.

And neither do you.

But Stark Tower is intimidating. Especially when it hosts everything you’ve been trying to forget.

You got a fresh start last year. S.H.I.E.L.D fell. Your work dried up. There was no where else you were needed. Enough had been accidentally cut on your watch with your knife throwing skills. So you did what you always wanted, before your deathly hobby turned into a career. You were now working as a psychiatrist. You got out of your own head to get into others.

Now, you were suddenly crawling back into the brains that you had almost become.

The stop of the elevator had you poised to hit the close door button, ready to make your way back down to the lobby to grab a cab home to your apartment. But your psychologist mind took over, the practice what you preach mentality overtaking, and your finger fell.

By the time the doors opened with a ding, your chin was up and head held somewhat high. It was the quickest reset you had ever performed. If only you had your notorious notebook to jot down how it had worked so well.

You had just remembered the old receipt in your clutch (dated with the last time you dressed up which was ages ago) that you could write on when someone yelled your name. At the sight of Natasha Romanoff, the idea of writing down your findings flew out the window.

“Nat!” You smile, accepting the Russian’s hug.

She reciprocates the action, asking more questions than you usually got out in an hour session with a routine client.

By the time you had make it to the bar you are filled in on all she had been up to, the details of the latest mission in retrieving of Loki’s scepter and all things Bruce.

Natasha gulps at you look once she finished retelling the doctor’s recent findings with the tesseract. She was already shaking her head at your silent implications when you placed a gentle hand over hers.

“As a doctor myself,” Natasha rolls her eyes at the mention of your new job. “No one talks that much about me unless they like me way more than a doctor.”

Natasha bites her lip, mumbling something about how you outfit was too nice to kick me. You laughed, a hearty laugh you hadn’t felt in ages. Upon seeing her recognize the newfound happiness you shooed her behind the bar in ask for a drink.

She waltzes away giving you just enough time to collect yourself once again. You hate to admit it (acceptance was always the hardest step of grief) but you missed her. You missed the days of fighting, working, living and saving.

It was harder to see the goals you met in your new line of work. It took years to build a client base, see your patients make progress, feel like you’re helping people when all you can do is listen.

It never felt good to kill someone. The sound of a blade whipping through the air was satisfying but nothing felt better than knowing there was less person doing the opposite of helping. Hurting. Hunting. Killing.

So why did you feel like you were doing something similar not being in the field?

You blink the thoughts away, turning to wave Nat down for something a little stronger than a beer when you saw her chatting it up with none other than Dr. Banner. You shake your head, your eyes moving back down the bar.

Your focus is caught by a brooding blonde. A literal God, named Thor. But its his neighbor that makes you freeze. Tony Stark never really had that effect on women (it was his money that enticed them not his looks) but the mere sight of him makes you gasp.

Your last conversation hadn’t been the most pleasant. You had refused a job at Stark Industries, believing you needed a clean break. He had pressed you to the point of pure anguish. The last thing you remember saying to him was something along the lines of, ��You can’t ask me to stay to help you sort out whatever that is.” With a point at his head.

You quickly turn around, not wanting a repeat when he already had a glass of champagne in his hand. Sober Tony was obnoxious. Intoxicated Tony was a whole other level of big headedness.

You make your way through the party, ignoring the likes of anyone who looks remotely familiar. The few who had stayed loyal to the real S.H.I.E.L.D rather than turn in favor for HYDRA had come over, just like Tony asked you to. It was unclear who was worse to be trapped into a conversation with - someone who knew why you were no longer involved or those who didn’t.

You find your way up to a second floor hallway, one side looking out onto the party while the other faced the skyline. Uninterested in people watching (a reason that sounded much more mature than not wanting to be recognized) you face the large windows out onto the city.

You spin on your heel, your eyes traveling from the lights outside to inside when your eyes glaze over the very face of the Avengers.

But it isn’t Captain America’s face that caught your attention, rather the conversation his friend was spitting.

“Avenging is your world.” Sam Wilson, The Falcon, shakes his head into space, before turning to face the party just across the aisle. “Your world is crazy.”

It was your turn to shake your head, biting your lip in a weird resonation of his words. His next words, be it ever so humble, about the entire situation.

He was right. You know it, too. This world of fighting was hectic. Chaos. It really shouldn’t exist. But then you’d look out over some fancy party and it’s be easy to grasp. It wasn’t the alcohol or glamour, it was the aura that it had.

“You find a place in Brooklyn yet?”

The Super Soldier held back his own chuckle. “I don’t think I can afford a place in Brooklyn.”

It was hard to believe but easy to understand. It was an expensive burrow. Still, you found yourself laughing under your breathe.

Sam said something about home being home, which you also understood, but only between a laugh. Your breathy sound ends just as Tony’s favorite team member looked back at you.

The next thing out of your mouth was a gasp for air, followed quickly by a cough you tried to cover up. You face the window, trying your best to play it off. The sudden eye contact scares you. First it was the fear of being recognized. That outrageous thought was quickly thrown out.

The thing is, you hadn’t exactly...met him. It felt wrong to even think of him as Steve Rogers when you’d never been introduced. Anytime Nat mentioned him you couldn’t believe the first name basis they had. You weren’t starstruck - not by a lot. You’d spent time in labs with Iron Man and the Hulk. You grabbed coffee with Black Widow. Thor had given you a freaking birthday gift.

No super soldier named Captain America scared you.

Except the one sidling up next to you now.

“Hi, there.” He says, bending down to grab your attention.

And right then, after feeling immense anxiety and worry of coming face to face with anyone who worked for the thing you had left behind, you felt perfectly comfortable in front of their very leader.

You’d been listening to Tony too much, through Nat. Captain America was the elected leader. Tony just made everybody look good.

“Hi.” You say, bringing yourself out of your head.

His blue sparkled, a lopsided smile reaching his lips as his hand reaches out to you. “Have we met?”

“Almost.” You say automatically, the word being more of a thought you wanted to keep than share. You shake your head, correcting yourself. “No.”

“Steve.” He says after learning your name. You can tell the way he locks it away, his eyes slightly closed as if grabbing the word from your mouth and putting it in storage. “I’m sorry, were you almost put in ice too or did you see me through a subway door closing?”

You can’t help the smile on your face, his humor and charm exactly what you expected. “No.” A hand find your hair and you watches the way his eye tracked the small scar on your finger. It was from when you were five. You cut yourself with a knife, a knife you weren’t supposed to be holding. From that point on your swore you’d never hold a knife again if you didn’t know how to use it. You thought that meant culinary school. Not becoming a dagger throwing agent.

Your other hand traces the mark, that runs from the tip of your left pointer finger to the center of your knuckles.

“I used to be in a similar business.”

You watch Steve accept the answer, silently deciphering your words. To relieve him you continued, now having a better thought to go off of. “I save people. From themselves.”

“I’m a psychiatrist.” You conclude, wanting to put him out of his misery. You crack a smile, earning one from him. He bobs his head, looking out into the city, thinking. You could tell, again, facial cues. You did a lot of listening and watching now. A few years ago you would’ve thrown a blade to trap his shirt against a wall while another went to his throat to demand a response.

You sort of like watching him form his words.

A question, expertly designed, was on the tip of his tongue when a booming voice yells his name. Thor waved from below enthusiastically. You quickly turn, not wanting to start a conversation with the God of Thunder. He always seemed to get you into existential conversation. In the old English, and it being so late, you couldn’t handle it.

“Don’t leave him waiting or else he’ll send Mjollnir up here.” You say, already backing away.

Steve looks up at you, a playful smile hinted at his lips. But it didn’t reach the surface, curiosity and confusion at your sudden departure the priority.

You want to stay. But the thought of explaining...of answering...even the oh so amazing Captain America, has you wanting to run back to the elevator.

The only reason you exit the conversation rather than the entire building...is the slight beat of your heart and reddening of your cheeks at the idea of talking with him again. Unlike Thor, you could even get into all the existential stuff with him.

Exactly what the super soldier would deem too out of the box is on your mind when you run into the one person you don’t want to see. The host himself.

Tony takes you under his wing, literally, walking you around the party. Surprisingly enough, not once does he convince you to come back to work. He asks questions and wants to know all about you.

You oblige, enlightening him with tiny details. Your lack of confidence in the authenticity isn’t from lack of trust, but because you spend more time inquiring about him. Wordlessly, that is your psych perception takes over as you study him. You conclusion: he’s only asking about lowly you because he’s sitting high and dry. Which isn’t a new thing for Tony Stark, tech mogul and THE Iron Man. But something tells you his latest win isn’t one just shared with the public yet. Too good to be true, even to the optimist that is Tony.

He leaves you, letting you walk around for the rest of the party. Hours pass, partygoers dwindling both from the penthouse and your data set to people watch. Numbers low on who to analyze, you turn around in a circle, sure you couldn’t have taken in every person in attendance. A full 180 and you come face to face with the man with a target on your back.

He makes sure of your hunch, that he’s had it out for you, with the sly comment, “You ditch a Brooklyn boy for some Staten Islander?”

You look over your shoulder, playing along. “I was actually waiting for this guy from Manhattan to fetch me a drink.” You look back at him, his head titled in focus. You stumble for a moment, not used to the attention being on you. To the floor you say, “I don’t think city guys are good at service.”

“it’s a damn good thing you’re with a soldier.” He smiles, offering his arm as he steps beside you.

You hesitate, your knowledge on attraction and how one simple touch can lead to a million mistakes and miscommunications. You let your head take over your heart this time, walking ahead of him. “Last I checked, Captains don’t fetch anything for someone else.”

Accepting the (slight) rejection, Steve joins into step with you, his hands stuffing into his pockets. “You make me sound like Stark.”

“We all sound a little like him after too much time together.” You shrug. Catching Steve’s curious eye, clearly wondering how and when you worked with Tony, you saddle up behind the bar to distract yourself. “It’s called mirroring behavior. Say, I grab a beer you have a higher chance of doing the same just because of me.”

Steve smiles at you over the counter, watching as you open the bottle and take a swig. “But what if I just like beer?”

You roll your eyes, bringing the cider to your lips. “Or so you say.”

“You’re good at your job. Tony help you with that?”

You nearly choke on your drink. Why? It’s a toss up for the unexpected question or the tone of jealousy you think you detect in his voice. Upon looking at him you can’t see if your suspicion is correct. He’s casual, leaning an elbow on the table and gazing around the room without a care.

When his eyes find yours again you can’t help but trust him. You deem it the authority he has within his role, rather than something like the way he looks at you or how cute he is, before answering. “He wishes my career took me here. But after the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D,” It’s Steve’s turn to look at you to ensure trust, your words an unspoken truth among so many secret keepers. “I found my way into a new line of work.”

You turn to your left, finding a spec on the marble to transfix on. When he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even chastise you for so openly talking about the failure of his former employer, you look up at him. Only for your eyes to track his, to none other than your hand.

You hadn’t even realized you were still holding the can opener. it was a wine/bottle mix and you had the corkscrew raised and the entire contraption being spun in your hand like....like a knife.

Mirroring. In a room of superheroes and fighters, you resort back to your own ways. You remind yourself this is exactly why you weren’t supposed to come when Steve speaks.

“Reading people?” He asks, genuine interest in his voice. You see his eyes barely flit back to your hand, forcing you to set the church key down, but ignore it, just like he is choosing to do. You nod. “Can you read them?”

You follow his finger, stifling a laugh when it lands on Nat and Bruce, clearly flirting just down the bar.

“Reading, not pointing.” You reprimand with sarcasm, quickly covering his hand. Heat travels up your elbow, your hand flying back to the cold corkscrew for comfort as you clear your throat. Steve’s eyes wanders away and for a second you think he felt it too when you shake your head. There are patients. No time to dilly dally.

After a moment you say,“From a psychiatric point of view, I’d say the male is exerting immense amount of dopamine, just getting by the stressors and paraysmpathic nervous system. Whereas the female’s self esteem is battling her body’s immediate release of cortisol.”

Steve looks up at you, his mouth hung open. As dryly as you can, you say, “He likes her and she likes him.”

It sparks a laugh from both of you, a long one that doesn’t end till he puts his hand over yours in an effort to stop. You let it rest, liking the feeling of the cold marble and his warm hand more than any old corkscrew.

“So how you going to diagnose them?” He asks, clearing his throat and suddenly removing his hand.

You tilt your head toward the pair - an assassin and a man who can’t control his killing - and take a second to think. That second is when Nat decides to leave, gliding past you effortlessly. As she walks by you say to Steve, more so to yourself, “It’s hard for people to hear the truth.”

Steve is looking over to Bruce when you tip your head back to him. You can see the question on the tip of his tongue and you want to stop him but he’s too quick.

Don’t play cupid, is the second most common thing you say to clients. Right after the ‘truth is hard to hear’ piece.

You can’t help but put your head in your hands when he outrightly says Bruce and Romanoff “is nice”. It’s a psychologists worst nightmare. Not the one you thought you’d see play out but it’s happening, so you can’t help but listen.

It’s the way Bruce stumbles in reply that sends you walking down the bar. You throw Steve nothing but a “watch yourself’ look before listening from your new spot.

You clink your nearly empty beer bottle on the counter when Bruce comes up with an excuse. It does more than you plan it too, as it grabs Steve’s attention and has him going for another one and making his way over to you. You can’t help but notice the way he smiles sincerely at his friend when announcing himself a leading authority in waiting too long. The statement makes you pause, but not long enough to miss Bruce asking about exactly how close Steve was to Nat’s flirting..

“Pointing works.” He says when he arrives in front of you, the unopened bottle extended (if not pointed) directly at you.

You accept, clinking off the cap with the opener still in your hand. “Yeah, yeah.”

He watches you take a sip, his eyes once again telling more than he thinks they do.

Your hand, once again holding the opener in the knife-life way is his next question. For once, you want to keep the conversation about work.

“My job is to listen. What you just did was talk.”

Steve mulls it over, taking the beer form your hand and tipping it back. He holds it out you, in offering. “OK. You talk. I’ll listen.”

You bite your lip. Knowing this could be bad. There’s a reason you listen. Talking...it’s like any pointy object for you. Someone always ends up stabbed.

Then again, how seriously injured could Captain America get? You already have one scar. A “Star Spangled Man with a Plan” shaped wound could be your next story.

A new blemish never arises. You don’t even feel so much as a pinch of pain. Talking to Steve, for hours, makes you feel about as painless as you been ever since you left the line of work.

Then again, your old career never makes an appearance in conversation. He did ask about your current career so that’s what you talk about. Psychology. Which leads to music. TV. His favorite food and how its Apple Pie. He doesn’t listen when you insist Pumpkin is better.

Your love of Chinese food is perfectly timed to the late night order, scoring you a seat and a plate at the after-party, so to speak.

That’s where you find yourself, on the couch with a small cluster of people. Most of which are the ones you had planned to ignore. Rhodey, Tony, Clint, Maria Hill, and Nat don’t as much as eye you suspiciously, thankfully. Besides, you mostly people watch, only talking when Steve wants some insight on whether or not Thor is really spiking his drink or giving him something watered down.

You share a look with Thor, encouraging the addition of it into Steve’s next beer, when Clint questions the God’s almighty hammer. You laugh when Clint looks at the thing bewildered at his inability in to lift it.

Steve joins you in softened laughter at Stark’s attempts. His head finds your shoulder when Rhodey and him quarrel about representing in their effort to pull the hammer off the table. But he refuses to make so much as a peep when Banner tries to “Hulk” it up, saying he doesn’t want to hurt the guy’s chances with Nat.

Before you can tell him Bruce could do no wrong in the red head’s eyes, it’s Steve’s turn. The way he rolls up his sleeves, making it clear he’s taking it seriously, has you silent. You can tell a lot by a person in the way they go about a challenge. it doesn’t surprise you at all, despite the short time you two have talked, that Steve goes for it.

It’s no shock at all that your attention switches to Thor. The look of panic, which you’re sure only you are watching, astounds you. Never once had the God been this nervous. But here he was, holding his tongue as Steve nudged the alien club up.

Steve comes back to you in defeat. You offer him a supportive pat on the back, having his eyes for all but a moment until everyone’s eyes land on you. Recognizing Nat just turned down the offer you shake your head. “Lift with your brain, not your weak bones.”

Steve gives you an impressed look, opening his mouth to call you out when Hill remarks the use of bad language.

“I had a feeling you’d be a stickler for that.” You theorize aloud.

Steve looks at you over his shoulder, raising a brow. “Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” You reiterate.

Thor proves you all wrong, effortlessly lifting his weapon of choice, declaring no one worthy.

The group laughter is cheerful and it warms your heart. Something about comfort between all of these people who live so dangerously, intrigues you. Your mouth opens to ask Steve how he’s come to trust them when a high pitched noise floods the space and has you covering your ears.

Your breath catches at the sight of a botched bot, standing in the shadows. Its robotic voice, oddly human, has you biting on your lip. It’s been a while since you’ve been faced with anything worse than a crying client.

Something tells you this won’t end in tissues and a hug.

Steve, who stood upon the unaccounted for noise, says Tony’s name with more frustration that you could ever imagine coming out of the man. You look up to him in surprise, only to look back at the way his hand is flexed in front of you. It’s a poor job at guarding you but something tells you that if he had his shield within reach he’d have grabbed it already.

The bot piques yours interest, his mumbled statements about his own sleep like unscnoius state making you nervous. The way he’s so...real...takes forefront over Tony’s own whispering. But even without your focus directly on him, something tells you he’s unsure. It’s never a good sign when the host is surpised.

You slowly stand as the intruder fumbles with himself. You’re studying him so discreetly you actually wave away Steve’s warning hand.

“You killed someone?”

“No he didn’t.” You murmur, only loud enough for Steve to hear. He gazes back at you for a moment and you shake your head, confirming your suspicion. The...thing in front of you is no real killer. Not yet.

When Tony’s voice rings out from the bot the tension rises in the room. You couldn’t cut it with a knife it’s so thick...which takes a lot for someone with the throwing capabilities of yourself.

You don’t mind it, knowing the pressing threat stands in front of you rather than beside. The wise words erupting from the in flesh Ultron has you racking your brain...about nothing less than the brain in front of you. Computers have never outsmarted you. Then again, it’s been a while since you’ve been around Tony.

His building - in tone and message- signals something much more violent is about to begin. No sane person builds a mountain of words not to stand on it later. Maria Hill cocks her gun as you take in your surroundings. You believe a chopstick to be your best option for a weapon, at least one you can throw, when the crash of walls begins the battle you were really hoping not to get into tonight.

It’s like Steve senses your lack of protection, taking it upon himself to upchuck the table for cover. Instinctively, you crowd down in front of the couch, just missing the hit that Steve takes with the attempted cover.

A big part of you wants to make sure he’s OK, scream his name and chase after him, but it’s not the time. People come to you to recover with your help. Steve isn’t one of those people.

So, you go into survival mode.

You army crawl across the room, watching every disappear from the main level. They’re smart enough to find cover and/or a weapon. You, out of practice and way out shape, head across the room...you know, to the empty space ensuring no safety.

Catching sight of Nat, now armed, you duck down knowing there has to be a gun stashed somewhere. It’s not your first weapon of choice, having never trusted a bullet as much as a blade but something is better than nothing.

And nothing is what you find.

You graze every table you can, certain it hasn’t been long enough for you to forget what a gun feels like, when spot Nat and Bruce flying up the stairs.

Sure Nat has already pleaded with the doctor not to turn green you avert your eyes to Stark, flailing on the back of a bot with what appears to be a fondue fork. You’d kill for a fondue fork right now.

What catches your eye instead is something much less picking. It’s perfect timing too as you spot Dr. Cho crowding behind the piano, face to face with a waist up robot, hand glimmering and all.

In a split second your hand grasps around the candlestick and you toss it through the air. Despite the noise you hear its whistle and while it’s really not the time, you relish the sound that you missed so much.

It hits the neck, chopping off its head just as Steve clambers on top of it, chucking git to Thor to smash, to ensure it’s no chicken working with its head cut off.

A shield wizzes past your head, slicing another member of Ultron’s army seconds later.

Its lonely leader speaks next, chilling the charged air.

Before you know it you’re flinging the other candlestick (it is a set) at Ultron, stabbing his arm. It earns the tines looks of him before a dry chuckle. You don’t take your eyes off of him despite the stare you know you’re getting.

His next words are directed at you. “You just didn’t think it through.” His knowledge of what feels like the entire world makes you believe that while his idenity is still a mystery, yours is not to him.

Your presumption is all but proved when his crumbled form sings the infamous Pinocchio song. Not once was it sung at the party. Everything his at his finger tips. Yourself included.

The blue of his eyes fade but he surely doesn’t leave the room. Tony sighs, clutching himself on the stairs. Thor breathes heavily hwile Nat looks worridely at Bruce, who appears on the edge of vomitting up all the food he didn’t eat a the party. Cho looks terrfiied. Hill and Rhodey on the lower level.

That leaves Steve. Watching you.

In four steps he’s at your side, his hands on your arms as he checks you out. Not like that. You remind, tell, yourself its not like that as you meet his eyes.

“Im’ fine.”

"That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Guess you’re better at reading people then.” Humor has always been your go-to. There’s not anything much heavier than blood and blades. The least you could do is quip something light.

Steve steps forward, his voice dropping just for you to hear. “I was going to say you’re a damn good throw.”

The End

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america fanfic #marvel #age of ultron #tony stark #natasha romanoff #thor #bruce banner #x reader

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jungshookz · 4 years

Note

ok anyway build-a-bear employee!jin who meets y/n bc she comes in to make a new friend after a breakup and he teases her for being an adult by herself in the store and after she starts tEARING UP he’s like okok no!!!! and helps her make the cutest lil guy and records a cute message to put inside

➺ pairing; kim seokjin x reader

➺ genre; employee!jin, i brought you to build-a-bear so obviously this is going to be very floofy (sfw!!)

➺ wordcount: 4k

➺ what to expect; “…turning twenty-two soon and you’re buying yourself a teddy bear?”

➺ note; when i told u guys that jin always gets the cutest drabble requests i wasn’t LYING!!! i have my own bear from build-a-bear named blu (he’s dark blue with white stars!! at the age of eight i was not very good at coming up with creative names) so obviously i had to write something for him and his homies

»»————-　🧸————-««

jin has a love-hate relationship with his job

you would think that working at build-a-bear would be pretty fun - and it can be, sometimes! - but jin can confirm right here right now that it’s not aLL that great

on one hand, he loves the dramatics of build-a-bear because he’s given the chance to act like the whole store is whimsical and that the tiny little heart that he stuffs inside of the bear is full of magic and hope and happiness (he majored in acting in university so his degree is surprisingly very useful here)

but on the other hand… he works at build-a-bear.

this isn’t where he thought he’d be!!! not at all!!!

he’s basically almost thirty and he works at a frickin build-a-bear

this wasn’t part of his plan!!!

his plan was to graduate from university, get famous from acting in a small commercial because of his devilishly handsome face, and then immediately get signed onto some fancy hollywood acting deal and become internationally known

but, no!

he graduated from university, didn’t get any roles in any small commercials, and had to find a way to make money so had no choice but to find work at his local mall

and to make things worse, his boss is literally five years younger than him

he has this bratty little twenty-two year old constantly up his ass and he haTES it

“you forgot the whipped cream on my frappuccino.” jungkook looks up at jin from where he’s sitting behind the counter before raising his drink, “am i blind or are you just bad at listening to instructions? where is the whipped cream, seokjin? WHERE?”

jin clenches his jaw before leaning forward, “they were busy, i guess they just forgot. and i’m not your slave. i only got you that drink so you’d give me a day off tomorrow.”

“well, since there’s no whipped cream on it, you don’t get a day off.” jungkook kisses his teeth before shrugging

“wha-“ jin resists the urge to reach down and wrap his hands around jungkook’s neck, “are you kidding me right now?? i spent forty-five minutes out of my fifty minute lunch break lining up at starbucks to get that for you! forty-five minutes!!!”

“i don’t know what to tell you,” jungkook hums as he kicks his legs up onto the counter and leans back against his chair, “now get back to work. and remember to smile! after all, build-a-bear is where best friends are made-“

“the new slogan is ‘the most fun you’ll ever make’.” jin raises a brow, “you don’t even know our slogan! how did you become the manager?”

jungkook takes a slow sip of his drink while maintaining direct eye contact with jin

sChLuuUuRrRRRr

jesus christ

his life sucks

jin rolls his eyes before turning on his heel and heading back to the main area of the shop

today’s saturday, so the store is a little busier than it usually is - which is great, because jin works off commission and he thinks he’s pretty good at selling teddy bears

on his best day he managed to sell thirty-eight bears in one day

he also convinced most of the kids that their brand new furry friends needed new clothes and a personalised recorded message in place of the usual little red cloth heart

he doesn’t like looking at the parents whenever he’s egging their kids on to buy even more things because they always look at him like they’re going to kill him

anyways

he could’ve ordered like forty frappuccino’s from the money he made on that day

before he left for lunch today he sold eight which really isn’t that impressive

but, to be fair, the mall usually gets busy after lunch, so now is the prime time to make some sales

jin lets out a breath as he scans the store for any newcomers or anyone who’s noT already being bombarded by his co-workers

he can’t help but snicker to himself when he notices yoongi at the stuffing station conducting a heart ceremony

“-and now you can go ahead and give your heart a little kiss-“

he looks up for a split second and jin takes the chance to blows a sweet little kiss at him

he snorts to himself when yoongi’s eye twitches

yoongi hates giving heart ceremonies but he’s actually pretty good at it!

he’s good with children whether he wants to admit it or not

alright, enough making fun of yoongi >:-)

time to hunt down a new customer…

jin sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he walks around the store slowly

ooh, a little boy and his family just walked i- aaand they’ve been swept up by jimin

okay, no problem!

how about those twin gir- nope, too late, taehyung’s approaching them

damn

that would’ve been a good sale, too

it’s fine

he’ll get someone!

oh, wow

build-a-bear has really upped their game since the last time you were here

to be fair, the last time you were here was like more than ten years ago, so you’d hope that they make some changes to the store

…are those star wars themed teddy bears??

that is most definitely a princess leia teddy bear

and she even gets her own little light sabre!

wow

this is a whole new world

“excuse me, sorry…” you manoeuvre your way through the crowd as you continue looking through your options

is it weird that you’re in here by yourself?

the thought of trailing behind a random child in order to blend in with everyone else crosses your mind for a split second

although… a grown woman creeping behind a child they don’t know probably isn’t going to sound good to the judge when you’re standing in court, so maybe you shouldn’t do that

okay

you know what

it’s fine

it’s totally fine that you’re in here by yourself!

stuffed plushies are for people of all ages!!

it’s not just a kiddie thing

you’re FINE

and you have a perfectly legitimate reason to be in here

the only reason why you’re even in here is because…

well, the short and sweet version is that you got dumped two weeks ago.

which means that you’ve been cooped up in your apartment for the last fourteen days

which means your bedroom was starting to smell a little ripe so you thought it’d be good to air out the place and give your poor bed a break

(also, please, for the love of god, remember to wash your sheets when you get back home later today.)

anyways

you thought that a trip to the mall for some retail therapy would make you feel better!

so far you’ve only been the food court but you helped yourself to a cheeseburger, some onion rings, and a vanilla milkshake

food always makes you feel better

you could honestly go for another round of onion rings right now

there’s nothing quite like the pain of having your heart broken nudge you towards the direction of binge-eating the pain away, is there?

you were about to head into a victoria’s secret to splurge on pretty panties (that no one but yourself will be seeing for a long time) but this build-a-bear caught your eye

a cuddle buddy you could ugly-cry into for the simple price of $35?

obviOUSLY you had to come in

the only issue now is that there are way too many options to choose from

who do you want to take home??

pawlette the bunny?

toothless from how to train your dragon?

you could even take pikachu home if you wanted to

“timeless teddy…” you mutter to yourself as you dig out a teddy bear skin (also, it’s very unsettling that they’re called ‘skins’. like, you know that’s what they technically are, but the phrase ‘i’ve picked out my skin!’ just makes your skin crawl.)

you lean forward a little to read the label on the wall

teddy bears are a timeless way to share love with every hug! timeless teddy is a classic teddy bear with shaggy brown fur and an adorable smile. personalize this classic teddy bear with outfits, sounds and accessories for a huggable gift they'll cherish forever!

perfect!

a classic teddy bear sounds perfect

there’s nothing wrong with going back to basics

also, you’re assuming the ‘they’ll’ they’re referring to here is a child

…

you are doing this

you will buy this teddy bear!

your other option was to go and adopt a cat from the shelter but you can barely take care of yourself right now so that wouldn’t be a good idea

“hello!” you jump three feet into the air when you’re suddenly being greeted by one of the bright-eyed workers, “can i help you find anything?”

you turn around quickly while clutching your teddy’s skin (gag) to your chest with wide eyes, “h-hello!”

hello indeed

you feel your heart drop a little when you realise that you probably look disgusting right now

you weren’t expecting to bump into a veRY attractive super handsome boy today!!!

very attractive super handsome boy with sweet brown eyes and soft-looking hair and the poutiest lips you think you’ve ever seen in your entire life-

thank god you decided to wear the sweatshirt that doesn’t have any stains on it, right?

the one thing you remember from your previous build a bear experience (once again, 10+ years ago) is that the workers here are usually overly perky sixteen year old girls

this guy is not an overly perky sixteen year old girl

well

maybe he’s the perky part

but everything else??

wowie

he smiles brightly at you before tilting his head, “hello. i’m jin!” he points at his name tag, “i’d love to help you out today. were you looking for anything in particular?”

“hi! hello, jin. i’m, um, i’m y/n. i was, uh-“ you clear your throat, “i was actually just browsing, so…”

“oh, perfect!” jin claps his hands together, “let me tell you all about our collections. there’s the summer fun collection, the rainbow friends, the promise pets, the heartables, the classic build-a-bear collection-“

yeah okay

he’s definitely nailed the perky part of the job

“-DC comics, dr. suess, marvel, my little pony, how to train your drag-“

“you know, i-“ you smile sheepishly after interrupting jin, “thank you so much, but i’ve actually already made my decision, if that’s alright.” you hold your teddy’s limp, hollow carcass up before pressing your lips together

“of course that’s alright!” jin takes the skin from you before shrugging lightly, “i figured i’d just let you know of all the other options in case your younger sibling wanted something more extravagant than just our timeless teddy. follow me to the sound station!”

you don’t get a chance to say anything before jin spins around swiftly to head to the back of the store

he thinks this bear is for your younger sibling

okay, you can work with that!

you can pretend like you’re in here for your non-existent younger sibling and certainly not for yourself

“you can choose a pre-made sound from here,” jin gestures to the bins of plastic hearts (there’s a sound option for an ‘into the unknown’ snippet from frozen 2 which is insane), “or we can go ahead and record a personalised message. what’s your sibling’s name?”

you look up at him immediately

“wha- um, why… why do you need to know my sibling’s name?”

“oh! i was just asking so i could give you an example.” jin hums as he tosses the skin over his shoulder and places his hands on his hips, “like, you could say, hey there… sibling’s name, it’s me, your big sister! i love you! or something like that.”

“ah, right!” you nod to yourself, “that makes sense! my sibling’s name is totally normal information that i have no problem giving to you.”

jin raises a brow when he notices you continuing to ramble about how your sibling’s name is something that you will be telling him soon because you definitely know the name of your younger sibling whomst’ve this bear is for

you’re cute but you’re a little odd

“-my younger sibling’s name is… paulette!” you catch a glimpse of a pink pawlette bunny being stuffed before looking back over at jin, “yep. that’s her name. sweet, sweet paulette. sweet little angel.”

“hey, our iconic bunny is named pawlette!” jin beams, “wouldn’t you want to get paulette her own pawlette? instead of a bear?”

the smile immediately drops from your face

oh god

you’ve never been very good at lying

one time in middle school when you wanted to get out of PE you told the teacher that you were in pain and that’s why you couldn’t do anything on that day

and when he asked you what hurt, all you said was ‘…bleeding out of my butt?’

you don’t even know why you said that!!

you could’ve told him you had a headache or something but nO

you told your teacher your asshole was BLEEDING and that’s why you couldn’t participate in baseball

so yeah

lying has never been your forte

but you don’t want pawlette!!

you want this bear!!!

although, it would make sense to get paulette her own pawlette because that’d be an adorable coincidence…

what are you-

what are you even sAYING

PAULETTE DOES NOT EXIST

“okay, you got me!” you raise your hands in defence and jin’s eyes widen in surprise, “paulette isn’t a real person. i don’t have a younger sibling. i’m in here for me. the bear is for me. the timeless teddy is mine.”

“oh…!” jin purses his lips before nodding slowly, “alright! totally get it. the bear is for you.”

why has everyone he’s ever been attracted to turned out to be a little cuckoo?

the expected demographic of build-a-bear are children aged 3-10 (a child aged below three isn’t interested in stuffed teddies because they don’t really do anything but sit there and a child aged over ten isn’t interested in stuffed teddies because… they don’t really do anything but sit there.)

and you… well, unless you’ve experienced some kind of insane growth spurt, you certainly don’t look like someone aged 3-10 years old

“phew! it feels good getting that off my chest.” you breathe out as you lean over and place your hands on your knees, “there was a lot of pressure there to keep lying to you but-“

“how, um, how old are you, by the way?”

jin doesn’t mean to sound like a judgy bitch

he’s just genuinely curious as to why a 21-23 year old would willingly go into a physical build-a-bear store to buy themselves a stuffed plushie

you could’ve purchased one off the online website

also, aren’t there better things to spend your money on?

like… literally anything besides a stuffed plushie??

“turning twenty-two soon!” you get back up onto your feet, “why do you ask?”

“…turning twenty-two soon and you’re buying yourself a teddy bear?” jin snorts before raising a brow, “i mean, really? didn’t you graduate this year?”

“ah, well…” you reach up to scratch the back of your neck as you feel the tips of your ears beginning to heat up, “i mean, yeah, but like…”

“i’m not judging! some people go on grad trips to party and get wasted after they graduate, and other people go to the mall to build themselves a $35 teddy bear-“ jin laughs to himself before turning around to plop the skin down on little counter attached to the stuffing machine, “anyways, were you thinking about choosing a sound or recording something?”

he spins back around and his eyes widen when he notices that your eyes have gotten red and are starting to water

uh oh

what’s going on?

what’s happening??

are you…

are you crying??

why are you crying??

he was totally kidding!!!

that wasn’t supposed to be mean!!

that was supposed to be playful banter!!!

“oh- oh, god no- wait-“ jin immediately walks over so that he’s standing in front of you and jungkook won’T be able to see that he just upset a customer, “don’t cry!! i was kidding!! i have, like, ten plushies on my bed! i’m twenty-seven and i work at a build-a-bear, if anything, i should be the one crying-”

“i just-“ you reach up to wipe at your eyes as you begin to blubber, “my boyfriend of one year b-broke up with me two weeks ago and i- i just th-thought that a teddy bear would make good company because god knows i’m not in the right mental state to be taking care of a real animal-!”

jin winces when you let out a particularly loud sob and he quickly drags you over so that the two of you are behind the stuffing machine and out of sighT from everyone

crap

he doesn’t even have any tissues on him!!!!

maybe he can pull some fluff out from the machine and you can dab at your tears with that

actually, the cotton might stick to your cheeks if you try wiping your tears away with a fistful of stuffing, so maybe not

“i-i know it’s stupid and humiliating for a grown-up to be in here buying a stupid teddy bear for herself but there’s so much in my life that’s just out of my control right now a-and making this teddy bear seemed like the only thing i could control and i just-“

“y-yes, of course!” jin pulls you into a tight hug (your sobbing is getting a little loud and people are starting to notice so this is the only way he can think to muffle your crying) and strokes the back of your head comfortingly, “i’m so sorry, i had no idea! that makes total sense, of course you can get this teddy bear for yourself…”

he continues to hold you until your sobs reduce to little hiccups and gives a warning look when yoongi mouths whether or not they should call mall security on your ass

when you pull away your eyes are a little puffy and the tip of your nose is red

if jungkook asks, maybe jin can get away with saying that your allergies acted up in the middle of the store

you don’t look like that because he made you burst into tears

not at all!!

“how about we… record a special message for your new friend?” jin digs through the tub to pull out an electronic heart

“i-“ you hiccup, “i don’t really h-have anything i want to say…”

jin purses his lips in thought

stuffing the bear with a heartbeat heart seems way too basic

this is an important bear!

ah!

“why don’t you let me take care of it, okay?” he reaches over and rubs your shoulder gently, “you wait here and i’ll take care of everything. for his stuffing, would you like a soft cuddle bear or a plump one?”

your bottom lip starts to quiver again and you let out a light laugh, “a soft cuddle bear sounds really sweet.”

“then a soft cuddle bear it is.”

“and this is for you.” jin hands you the box over the counter and you take it from him with a grin, “thank you for your purchase! and… sorry about making you cry-“

“oh, god no-“ you snort, “i’m sorry for bursting into tears and loading all of that on you-“

“it’s totally fine!” jin shakes his head, “you’re definitely not the first person to start crying in a build-a-bear, so there’s absolutely nothing to feel bad about.”

“right! right, of course.” you nod and press your lips together, “anyways, thanks for helping me out today, jin.”

“of course! it was a pleasure.” jin clears his throat

it’s pretty clear that the two of you want to continue talking to each other, but…

jin doesn’t usually practice his flirting skills when he’s at build-a-bear, so pardon him for being a little rusty

“so… see you around!” you chirp, “i’m just gonna-“

“wait, uh-“ jin wipes his hands down on the back of his pants, “i… i don’t know if maybe this is a little too soon for you or… and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, but… maybe i can treat you to an apology corndog or something sometime? i don’t know. this mall doesn’t really offer fine dining, so a corndog is really all i can-“

“yeah, i would love that!” you nod enthusiastically, “an apology corndog with you sounds great. i mean, a regular corndog would be fine too, but- d-do you… want my number?”

also

this isn’t you rebounding or anything

this is the first time in two weeks where your mind hasn’t been clouded with thoughts of your ex-boyfriend

this is the first time in two weeks that you’re actually happy

jin seems genuinely sweet and you wouldn’t mind getting to know him :-))

also you’re glad that hE was the one who asked

because if you were the one who asked, it’d probably make you look that much more pathetic

and you’ve already made a fool of yourself once today!!

you sigh happily as you slam the car door shut

you’re about to shove the key into the ignition when suddenly you remember that your bear has a personalised message inside of him

“oh, right!” you reach over to open up the cardboard house that he’s been shoVed into

!!!

you wonder what soundbyte jin picked out for you!!!

you pull him out and smile fondly at the sight of his chubby arms dangling over your hands

cute :-))

this was money well spent for sure

okay, now how do you activate the sound…

there’s a bit of squeezing and poking but you manage to find the little heart inside of him

you perk up when you hear a muffled crackle

“hi, y/n! it’s me, your furry friend… uh… jin bear! if you’re listening to this, it probably means you’re super sad… cry into my stomach to muffle the sound of your violent sobs! …oh, god, probably shouldn’t have said that- anyways, um, i hope you feel better soon! and remember to give me plenty of cuddles - i promise it’ll make you feel better!”

that was actually a pretty good message

(you hope jin texts u soon)

“okay, jin bear.” you murmur quietly as you buckle him into the passenger seat, “time to take you home.”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

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