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starwarstbbfan · 9 months

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Cold - Echo one-shot

Trigger Warning: Brief mentions of wanting to end it all.

This is a Echo one-shot that goes along with my story THE RUNAWAY. Takes place when Echo is still new to the squad, even though that hasn't happened yet in my story.

I apologize for not updating for so long, life got pretty stressful and stupid mental health got bad. But I'm slowly working on the next chapter and hope to have it out soon!

For now, enjoy this little one shot that I'm actually quite proud of! I dedicate this to @violetjedisylveon for giving me the idea for this one-shot!!!!

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Echo woke with a start, expecting to be back inside the stasis chamber that had been his prison for the longest time.

He'd had another nightmare. It was one of those where waking up seemed impossible and filled with droids that poked and prodded while masked people watched, showing no emotion even when the clone cried out in distress and pain. They did nothing, and it seemed the torture would never end. And even if Echo appeared to be shouting, no noise came from him, which made everything all the more terrible.

Heart racing and body coated with sweat, Echo did his best to control his breathing and hoped beyond anything he hadn't made any noise during his tortured slumber that would alert his new teammates. Though blood pounded in his ears, Echo strained to listen from his hammock for any sounds of anyone else waking up.

Thankfully, no one seemed to be awake. Wrecker's thunderous snores most likely drowned out anything, and the raging storm outside that seemed to never stop could have as well. For once, Echo was glad for Kamino's tumultuous weather. But the gratefulness was short lived as a shiver wracked his body, the parts that were human at least.

Despite being covered in sweat, Echo was cold, but it wasn't the type that could be fixed with an extra blanket. No, unfortunately this type of cold was internal, and no amount of blankets or warm drinks could fix it. His nightmares reverted him back to when he was nothing more than a cold slab of meat inside that chamber. He didn't remember much during that time, but one thing he was able to was the freezing subzero temperature.

When he woke up from the nightmares, he'd feel that same coldness again, how that was possible Echo wasn't sure. Maybe the cold, unfeeling cybernetics attached to him played a part who knows. Right now he wanted to rip them off, only he didn't have the strength or will power to do so. It would only draw attention to himself and he didn't want to wake anyone up, or if any of them were awake and merciful to pretend to not notice Echo's distress he didn't want to cause serious concern.

His teammates weren't naive though and Echo unfortunately wasn't the only one with mental scars that would more often than not disrupt sleep. It came with the territory of being a soldier. Sure they were bred for war, but not even the Kaminoans with all their brilliant minds and technology could 100% prevent an organic being from not having some sort of side effect from the harsh battles fought.

The enhanced group of clones had an unspoken agreement amongst themselves. They never spoke of the nightmares. It was easier to pretend they never happened, and they were too stubborn to admit to any sort of weakness. But it was mostly due to the conditioning of the Kaminoans, and the fear of being decommissioned if they appeared to be unstable even if the slightest.

Whispers about what happened with a clone named Tup had eventually reached the Bad Batch's ears, and the prevailing opinion had been that he'd snapped from the stress. However unlikely it seemed, since clones were technically supposed to be immune from that, it still struck concern into every clone and the Bad Batch were no exception though they of course never spoke of it.

Right now, Echo feared more than the rest of them of unraveling and being deemed unfit for duty. Almost every night was filled with kriffing nightmares, being only just shy of four weeks since his rescue. He still wasn't used to his cybernetics and more than once caught himself trying to use his right hand for things before realizing that he didn't have that appendage anymore. It was equal parts frustrating and embarrassing.

Sometimes, deep down, Echo would fight the dark thoughts that wished he'd never awoken from his stasis. That at some point his body gave out from all the experimentation. Or better yet, he'd actually died in that fiery explosion at the Citadel.

Right now, engulfed in the darkness of and trapped in his own mind, Echo wanted nothing more than just some relief from all this. At the very least, he wished to feel warm- feel like a human being again. It could be in his own head but anytime he touched his skin it still felt cold to the touch.

He thought about taking a walk, but was paralyzed and couldn't bring himself to move. Right now, Echo felt, for lack of a better word, broken. Broken.... and cold.

Echo was so immersed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice a pair of sharp glowing eyes watching him from across the room, nor did he see when those eyes came over to the hammock hanging a few feet above the ground.

Echo couldn't help the startled noise that came from his throat when a furry presence suddenly appeared on his stomach. Somehow the tooka completely avoided landing on a part of his body that wasn't robotic thus not knocking the wind out of him - though it was probably on purpose now that he thought about it.

"Get off, Scruffy." Echo murmered crossly, not in the mood to deal with the cat that was definitely against regulations. It was a wonder how the Kaminoans let the squad keep him. Or perhaps they didn't know. Either way, Echo wasn't fond of animals, having dealt with more than enough wild, dangerous ones in the past.

His protest was ignored however, much to his annoyance. Little paws jabbed into his stomach, ribs, and chest as they made their way up Echo's body, and little grunts of pain escaped the clone's lips as a result.

Echo wanted to shove the tooka cat off, but feared being bitten or scratched in retaliation. Even if Scruffy was tiny, who says the cat couldn't cause severe damage? Echo blamed Rishi Moon for his fear of animals. Seeing his brothers get eaten by those Rishi eels still haunted him among everything else.

Imagine Echo’s confusion when Scruffy hopped onto his head. What was the little rat doing?

Echo winced as he felt Scruffy's claws on his bald head, and the cat seemed to be moving in circles for whatever reason. Eventually, the weight settled and Echo felt soft fur instead of paws. Next, he heard a strange sound that came from Scruffy and sent vibrations down Echo's skull. He'd heard this noise before, now that he thought about it. When one of the others would pet Scruffy, he'd make the same sounds. Calli simply had to look at the cat and he'd start doing it. Purring I think Tech called it.

Oddly enough, Echo somehow found it soothing. That, coupled with the heat radiating from the small animal, Echo's eyes started getting droopy once more. The warmth brought on by the tooka/ minature space heater was a foreign feeling.

Even after being rescued he was still surrounded by medical droids that took care of him, and somewhere along the way Echo began to see himself as one as well.

Turns out he needed the touch of another living thing to remind himself that he too was alive and human.

Maybe having this cat around wasn't such a bad thing after all.....

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Hope you liked this!!!! I liked exploring Echo's mind a little bit, and getting into the trauma he's suffered. Echo deserves all the love in the world!!!

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littlesniggy · 6 months

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Commission Dabi x Reader

Hello everyone. So I had another commission two months ago and this time it was about Dabi. I honestly find it quite difficult for him to write but I did my best. This is part one of two (not sure when / if I'll get the second part of the commission though). Hope you enjoy it and looking forward to your feedback! Warnings: playing mind games, Dabi being a little sh*t, stalking, paranoia, Dabi still has black hair and goes by the name Dabi Pairing: Dabi x female reader Word count: 5.8k

You wish you never opened your eyes. You wish you were still asleep, dreaming of God knows what. You would even prefer dreaming about being stuck in a crowded place, desperately waiting to get away; anything would be better than what you are currently staring at.

You pull your blanket closer to your face, your eyes wide open with fear and shock as a pair of piercing, ice blue eyes stare right back at you. Your heart is pounding inside your chest, threatening to burst right out of your ribcage and run as far away from this situation as possible, leaving you behind.

You don’t dare avert your gaze from his, afraid he’d do something the moment your attention wasn’t 100% focused on him. The longer you stare at him, the more your eyes get used to the darkness inside your room and the more you are able to make out more than just his eyes.

Your heartrate quickens (if that’s even possible) when realization hits you that you’ve met this person before. The shadow in the corner of your room seems to notice your realization as a lazy smile forms on his lips, his eyes hooded with satisfaction.

“Please don’t hurt me.” Your voice cracks and sounds higher than usual but that’s what fear does to your body. It paralyzes you to the point where you don’t even recognize yourself anymore. You know people react differently to fear and the prospect of death. It is commonly known as fight of flight mode. Your uncle once told you that he fought off an entire gang of villains (you still doubt it was a gang) because they threatened your aunt. He just acted on instinct and fended them off. You wish you had the same courage, to simply stand up to this person and fight. But that’s just not how you are; that’s not who you are.

He steps closer to your bed, his hands buried deep inside his pockets, his predatory eyes glinting with anticipation. It’s the same glint he had in his eyes the first (and only) time you met him a couple of weeks ago. He was charming but he made you feel uneasy; you’re not good with human interactions and when someone comes off too strong your brain just doesn’t know how to handle the situation. Back then, you discarded the uneasy feeling due to your lack of social skills. Why couldn’t you listen just once to your gut feeling?

He stops in front of your bed; he could grab your feet if he wanted to and instinctively you pull them closer to your body, pressing your legs against your chest.

The man chuckles and leans forward, his hands gripping the frame of your bed.

“That depends on you.”

His eyes follow random people walking by with as much interest as someone doing their taxes. None of them piques his interest, none of them would be potential candidates for the League of Villains (he still thinks it’s a stupid name but he’s not the leader nor does he particularly care). After the first meeting a couple of weeks ago with Shigaraki he’s been out looking for like-minded villains but he didn’t seem to find the right people. All of them have been a waste of time so far and he’s starting to get bored with his task. He needs some distraction.

Dabi walks past the shops of a not so busy street; the stares of the people not bothering him in the slightest. Let them stare, he’d think. They’ll stare even more once they know the truth about him.

You have to mentally prepare yourself to order this much-needed coffee you’ve been craving for the past two days. You had asked your mom to bring you one when she went grocery shopping but she told you to “get your lazy ass outside once in a while and get the coffee yourself”. So now, here you are, leaving the comfort of your cozy room just for some coffee.

“Next, please!” you take a deep breath and step forward, your face already feeling hot and you’re sure you must look like you’re in pain because the barista looks at you concerned.

“What can I get you?”

“Can I….can I get a lall….” You feel your face heat up more and more and you are certain the other people behind you are staring at you, judging your incompetence while ordering a simple coffee. The barista smiles at you encouraging but you know he is judging you as well! He thinks you’re pitiful and pathetic and he is right. He opens his mouth to inquire what you want when you take a deep breath and burst out your order.

“Canigetalargecoffewithextramilkandsugar!?” Everyone goes quiet around you and you want to sink into the ground and just disappear.

The barista looks at you wide eyed before he nods and repeats your order, just slower.

“One large coffee with extra milk and sugar. ‘s that correct?” he asks and you just nod. He types it in and asks you if you need anything else but you just mumble out a “no thank you”. He nods again and tells you the total.

You grab your purse and look for your wallet, praying to God that you didn’t leave it at home. Relief floods you when you feel it and pull it out. With shaky hands you draw your credit card and place it against the card reader. A quick beep informs you that your card has been approved and the barista tells you to please wait for your coffee.

It was sheer coincidence that Dabi waked past this coffee shop and just so happened to witness this bizarre interaction. He couldn’t help but stop and follow your struggle with his eyes. Sure, he didn’t hear what you were saying but he isn’t stupid; the reaction from the people around you told him everything he needed to know.

He watches you grab your coffee hurriedly and you seem to be looking for a seat inside the café but the only seats available are the once outside. He tries to guess whether you will sit outside or just leave but both options seem to be likely.

To his delight you choose to sit at one of the tables outside; the furthest away from everyone of course to have as few interactions as possible. You are small, almost fragile looking and your glasses make you look younger than you probably are. Oh, it’s been a while since Dabi found someone so…..timid, so…..not prepared for the real world. He’d go as far as to say that interacting with other people causes you some sort of mental pain but that’s just a hunch. He watches you take out your phone and headphones, brushing away your short hair to move them out of the way. “Forget it.” He mumbles to himself and strides over to where you’re sitting, his hands buried deep inside his pockets.

You notice a shadow but don’t look up, thinking it’s either just someone passing by or a beggar wanting some change. You are mistaken. With a dull thud someone drops down into the chair next to you, one arm leisurely resting on the backrest of your chair. Your whole body tenses and you don’t dare to look up but you feel the person next to you is eyeing you intently to the point where it’s way past being uncomfortable.

You slowly turn your head to your left; the first thing you see are a pair of thick black boots firmly placed on the ground. The coat he’s wearing almost touches the ground as well but not quite. His dark pants are held up by a grey belt and underneath this long coat he’s wearing a white shirt. You want to say something but every word that might have come out of your mouth his being silenced by the horrendous look that presents itself in front of you when you see his face.

Dark red, charred, patches of skin seem to be attached to the rest of his face by nothing but staples. Your mouth hangs open and you feel like you’re in some kind of horror movie. Is he a zombie.

“It’s rude to stare.” The man says in a monotone voice though you’re sure there is a glint of amusement in his hooded turquoise eyes. The three piercings in his nose twinkle in the sun light as well as the staples.

Out of the corner of your eyes you see his arm resting on your chair and you lean forward just a little bit in order not to touch him. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Whatcha drinkin’?” he asks nodding towards your coffee. You are completely overwhelmed by this situation and you sheepishly look around for help but everyone is ignoring you. Of course, the two freaks must know each other, you think angrily to yourself but this doesn’t get you out of this situation.

“C-coffee…” you mumble and Dabi has to lean forward in order to catch what you’re saying. You instinctively squirm away from him which makes him chuckle in return. “Relax. Not gonna hurt ya.” He says, his hand casually brushing against your arm which makes you squirm even more. “Just coffee? Or with some fancy flavor? Maybe you can give me some recommendation. First time coming to this part of town. This a good café?” being bombarded with questions makes your head spin for a moment. Which one should you reply to first? Is he being serious? You doubt it but like hell will you call him out on his bullshit!

“It’s a good place.” You mumble, lifting your hand up to your face and first scratching your neck out of discomfort and then you instinctively go over to nibbling at your fingers before straight out biting your nails. It’s a bad habit of yours which your mom has scolded you for time and time again but you can’t seem to stop it. Every time you look at your nails you are reminded of your inability to cope with stressful situations in a more healthy manner, which makes you more anxious in return.

Dabi huffs amused and leans in closer to you, his arm which is resting against your chair pulls you casually against him as well. You stiffen and a cold shudder runs down your spine. You don’t like it. The close proximity to this stranger makes you want to vomit but you hold it back. Why can’t he just leave?

To make things worse does his arm snake around you even more and he grabs your hand from your lips, his long, slender fingers holding yours in an almost iron grip. “Whoa, your nails look awful.” The taunting tone in his voice has you sinking into your chair, trying to pull your hand away from him. Shame and embarrassment flow through every vein of your body. It’s bad enough your mom keeps nagging you about it but now a stranger as well? He shows mercy though as his warm hand slowly loosens its grip around your soft fingers until your hand slips out of his.

Dabi leans back with a satisfied grin on his face. You want to retort something, you want to tell him that his whole appearance looks awful but even though he makes you uncomfortable, even though he keeps taunting and harassing you; you can’t bring yourself to criticize his looks when it’s obvious that the charred skin comes from a fire or something like that and you know the moment you open your mouth to mock him, you’d regret it.

“Why are you out here all by yourself anyway? Waitin’ for your friends? Maybe your boyfriend?” His voice drops an octave when insinuating a potential boyfriend. You know he can’t possibly think you have a boyfriend so you conclude that he is trying to find your weak spots (which you have plenty of) and it drives you crazy. Why does he keep taunting you? Why does he keep making fun of you? Is this some kind of sick game?

You shuffle uncomfortably in your seat, unsure how to answer his questions. Be honest? Or lie? Or just ignore it? You opt to go with option number one. You’re not a good liar and you have a feeling that he will keep pestering you.

“Here by myself.” You reply. Dabi leans back in his seat and examines your form for a moment, his turquoise eyes reflecting the sun from above, making them even more piercing. “Is that so.” He simply responds. You can see his brain working hard behind those eyes and you kind of wished you could hear his thoughts but there is nothing but silence.

Dabi retrieves his arm from your chair. You let out a sigh of relief in return, glad the uncomfortable human contact stopped. Now he just needs to-

“Can I try it?” he points at your drink but instead of waiting for your reply he simply grabs it and takes a big sip.

Out of the corners of his eyes he sees you opening and closing you mouth like a fish but no sound comes out. He knows you want to tell him to stop; to stop drinking your coffee, to stop intruding your personal space to just stop bothering you. But you don’t. You press you lips together tightly and avert your eyes, frustration mirroring in your surprisingly pretty eyes.

“Too much milk and sugar. Shoulda ordered it black.” He comments but keeps drinking your coffee until he empties it until the last drop and places it on the table in front of you again. You are simply flabbergasted by his behavior but instead if voicing your irritation you just shift in your seat once again, no sound coming from you.

A crooked grin appears on his lips at your reaction. “Was nice meeting you but I gotta go. See ya around.” He places his hands on his thighs before getting up, his eyes never leaving your flustered from. You don’t reply. You don’t even acknowledge him leaving. Your eyes just stare at the empty cup in front of you while his heavy footsteps slowly walk away.

Dabi doesn’t look back either but he’s feeling something exciting tingling in his stomach. He’s met a lot of people being uncomfortable around him but you’re on a whole ‘nother level. You’re not just awkward around him but around everyone. The way you squirmed in your seat when he sat down, let alone when he had his arm around you; priceless! He is not a power hungry man but he can’t deny the feeling of superiority he had around you and how willing you seemed to just accept your fate, even though you were visibly frustrated with him. You could be a fun pastime while the League of Villains is still looking for new recruits. He would just let the others do the scouting. After all, he would only burn possible allies to dust anyways.

You are an utter mess when you leave the café and at first you just walk aimlessly around, trying to gather your thoughts. As much as you’d like to deny it but this interaction has you scared. Why? You don’t know but just the way he behaved with this whole demeanor…it was too much for you. You’ve never met anyone with this much confidence or rather this much audacity like him. A quick thought passes through your mind that he might’ve been on drugs? But there were no indications for that and he didn’t really strike you as a junkie.

You stop at a corner and take a deep breath. It’s over, you will never see him again. This was a once and a lifetime interaction and it just reaffirms your conviction to leave the house as little as possible. You take a quick look at your phone for the time and note that it’s time to go back home. Enough time spent outside. You need to go back to the comfort of your own room.

It’s really just coincidence that he sees you again while you cross the street but it plays into his hands. He wouldn’t necessarily consider himself a stalker just because he starts following you, his hands buried inside his pockets and heavy boots making a dull thud against the concrete floor. The word “stalker” describes losers who can’t get the girl but he knows he could get you. He would much rather consider himself a predator who stalks his prey until he's cornered it, its wide fearful eyes looking up at him, waiting for him to strike. And you just happen to fit the description of the perfect prey.

You curse yourself for not taking the car but for some odd reason you thought walking all the way to town was a good idea to clear your head and also give your body some exercise on the way. And the way here was fine. The way back is the problem. When making the decision to walk you didn’t consider the fact that you might not want to walk all the way back as well. Your feet are tired and from all the exercise this day. For a moment you contemplate calling an Uber but you decide against it. As much as you don’t want to continue walking you still need to sort your thoughts and being in a car with yet another stranger won’t help you in the slightest.

You leave the city and the spaces between houses grow bigger and bigger with property lines stretching far back behind the houses yet big trees obstruct the view on the properties. Said trees also line up on either side of the street, their green crowns offering shade for the occasional pedestrian. But right now, the sun is about to set and a cool breeze hits your face and makes you burry your hands deeper into your sweatshirt pocket and pull up your shoulders. With fast footsteps you are getting closer and closer to your home; you know the way by heart ever since you were a little child walking to elementary school with your friends and could probably also walk the way with your eyes closed.

You think back to this strange man from the café; you simply can’t get those calculating turquoise eyes out of your mind. They were mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time. They burnt their way right into your mind and now keep following you with every step you take. You suddenly feel uneasy and without thinking turn your head to look behind you. I’m just too paranoid. I’m just not used to being outside. You keep telling yourself to calm down and that your mind is playing games with you but there is this nagging feeling that you are being watched.

Another cold breeze comes from behind; it feels colder than the previous one and more forceful. Your short hair tickles your ear as if it is trying to tell you something. You turn your head around once again, this time looking harder if you can see anyone. Some leaves dance across the street carried by the wind which seems to be picking up. There is light coming from a house across the street and an older looking man is leaning against the counter across the window, a bottle of beer in hand and absentmindedly looking out the window.

You cautiously walk a few steps, your eyes scanning the area one more time before you look ahead and keep walking. You pick up your pace, the uneasiness from before slowly but surely turning into straight paranoia as you constantly feel a pair of turquoise eyes watching you from behind. But there is nothing. You shake your head but the image has burnt itself into your brain and you can’t seem to shake it off, to get rid of it.

You spin around when you hear a rustling behind you, eyes wide open with panic, trying to find the source of the sudden noise. Your body is tense and your heart is racing. Another rustling. You take a step back, pulling your backpack in front of you for a false sense of security. But yet again, you see nothing. You need to get back home. ASAP.

Even if you look insane, you start running with your backpack pressed against your chest. Your lungs soon start burning from the lack of oxygen and the lack of prior exercise. You take a mental note to start jogging one day. Just for cases like this where you feel unsafe and need to get out of a situation.

You try to push yourself to run further but your body is not playing along and you need to stop. You heart is pounding in your chest and you are sure whoever is following you can hear it as well. You press your hands into your sides, letting your backpack drop to the ground in order to alleviate the pain.

Once you’ve caught your breath you pick up the backpack again while your head looks around. Nothing there. Due to the adrenaline rushing through your body your senses seem to pick up as well because you are certain you hear heavy footsteps somewhere in the distance behind you. The same sound this man’s footsteps made when he left. Slow but heavy, each step promising misery if you stand in his way.

You start walking purposefully (your lungs are still burning) and can finally see the unremarkable house on the left side of the street with the black mail box (your suggestion when you were younger). Relief replaces the adrenaline when you turn into the driveway, cross the lawn and hurry up the stairs to your front door. Your hand grabs the doorknob and turns it, the warm and familiar smell of home greeting you from the inside.

You take a step forward, your right foot crossing the threshold when your body freezes in place, a cold shiver creeping down your body and every single hair on your body seems to be standing straight as if you were being electrocuted.

Ever so slowly an almost hot hand is grabbing you by the neck. It’s featherily light, like a hot summer breeze but it’s pushing you down, intending to force you to give in and fall. Those turquoise eyes are now boring themselves into the back of your skull and it takes every bit of willpower you have to cross the threshold completely and close the door behind you. Instantly, the hand leaves your neck and you are met with your mom sticking out her head from the kitchen, a tired smile on her lips.

“Welcome back, honey. Hope you had a nice day.”

Dabi is delighted, to say the least. He is leaning against a tree, his eyes still glued to the closed door of your house. Through a window close to the door he can see you hurry up the stairs where he presumes your room is located.

Seeing you so distraught when you thought someone was following you gave him chills of excitement. So scared, so….breakable. Sure, he was following you but you didn’t know that so your paranoia was even more enticing.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. A quick look at the display has him click his tongue and he shoves the device back into his pocket. Shigaraki could wait. He has found a plaything he couldn’t possibly let out of his sight. Not after all the entertainment you’ve already provided.

To be honest, he thought it would be more fun watching you. It didn’t take long for him to figure out where your room was located and as luck would have it, it is right next to an enormous tree. While scouting the area at night he found the perfect branch to sit on. He is still covered by the leaves but has a good look inside.

You mostly play video games or read books, sometimes texting with what he assumes are your friends but other than that, nothing interesting. To put it simple: you are a hermit. This would explain your behavior at the café the other week. Secretly, he hoped you’d do something more…forbidden. But apart from being withdrawn from society you are also quite innocent. At least for now.

The first day he thought you were like Shigaraki but he disregards this thought just as fast. Shigaraki has been bothering him for the past couple of days; he keeps complaining over the lack of new recruits but at the same time doesn’t do anything himself, he pulls everybody down with his constant mood swings (not that Dabi is all sunshine himself but he would say that he enjoys life just a little bit more than this hand freak), and he is over all a pain in the ass. You, on the other hand, don’t piss him off. Your timidity is actually kind of cute.

Dabi listens up when he hears your mom talk to you. Your window is open and a gentle breeze rustles through the leaves.

“I met Tara and her boyfriend today while I was shopping and had a lovely chat with them. Her boyfriend seems to be so courteous!” your mother gushes and he can hear your eyes roll at this comment.

“She told me that she is going to a birthday party tonight and she told me that you were also invited. Why are you not going?”

You give your mom the side eye, then look back at the book you’re reading while sitting on your bed.

“I don’t really feel like going. There are so many people I don’t know and I feel like I wouldn’t be any fun to be around.” You truthfully say. “I just don’t wanna ruin everybody’s fun…” you add in a lower tone. Your mom steps closer and stems her hands into her hips like mothers do. “Well, have you tried having fun? You don’t need to stay there forever but it’d be good for you to at least socialize now and then. You can’t stay in your room forever, you can’t live here forever and you shouldn’t be alone forever! Maybe this would be a good opportunity to find a partner?” Your face turns hot; hot because of embarrassment, shame, sadness, and anger.

“Please stop bringing this topic up again.” You quietly ask but your mom is not having it. She never does.

“I’m just saying; all your friends from school are in relationships. I even heard that Carly is already engaged!”

“I know….”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve loved to congratulate her! I’ve known her since she was a child!”

“Didn’t think it was important…”

“And when will you introduce us to a young man? When will you give us grandkids? Please, go outside and do something. Go on dates and live your life.”

You are so tired of her speech. You’ve heard it so many times, you already know it by heart. You press your lips together tightly and closer your eyes. Your mother’s eyes keep staring at you, waiting for a response so you press out a “I’ll try” to satisfy her. She sighs, shakes her head and walks away, closing the door behind her.

The moment you hear the click tears start rolling down your cheeks. You don’t want to cry; you’ve told yourself that you would let your mother’s reproach go in one ear and out the other without thinking too much about it but you can’t just tune out the sadness you feel every time she brings up this topic. It’s exhausting and you wish she’d just leave you alone.

Dabi honestly didn’t think you’d take it so “well”. He imagined you crying in front of your mom but you kept it well together. You wipe away your tears with the sleeve of your hoodie, take a deep breath and put your book away. Instead, you grab the controller of your Play Station, turn on the TV screen and start playing a game, your back resting against the wall behind your bed.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. Dabi takes a mental note to get rid of this thing asap. On the screen it reads ‘Get over here now.’

It takes you a whole week to leave your home again and Dabi almost misses it because of Shigaraki. He’s surprised you are not taking the car after last time but maybe you figured how stupid you must’ve looked and that it was all just in your head. Silly you.

When you reach the store you look at the small piece of paper your mom gave you. Some groceries for dinner, trash bags, soap, and whatever you could possibly need. And, you do, indeed, need something. Before you forget it (because it’s not on the shopping list) you walk to the feminine hygiene section and grab two boxes of tampons, one for you and one for your mom. You know your period will visit you within the next two days and you don’t want to leave your room just because you ran out of tampons.

You take your time with the rest of the items. The store is not too crowded so you can actually take your time and enjoy being outside. You like grocery shopping. It’s just the people you don’t like. You like looking at new snacks, exotic fruit, weird looking fish, or whatever catches your eye. So, you range from isle to isle, grabbing the items your mom put on the list when you pass them but overall feel quite carefree…

…until you have this feeling again. You feel a tingling on your neck and the small hair stands up, giving you the chills. There it is again – those eyes. Your hands grab the handle of the basket tighter and you close your eyes, taking in a couple deep breaths before you open your eyes again, telling yourself it is just some unbased paranoia.

Nevertheless, you don’t feel like browsing the aisle anymore and instead grab the remaining things left on the list and hurry to the self-check-out. It doesn’t take long until you’re out of the store and immediately rain starts pouring down on you. You let out a frustrated groan, put your shopping bags down to fumble your small umbrella out of your purse. Of course, it has to start raining right now.

With your umbrella out and open, you grab the bags and make your way across the parking lot, passing other customers who are running for the store to escape the heavy rain. But you just want to get back home. The store didn’t feel safe and right now the open street doesn’t feel safe either. I should’ve taken the goddamn car. You curse yourself but it doesn’t help.

You thought that this unnerving feeling from before might disappear once you’re back outside but it’s still there. You know someone is watching you. You look around as discreetly as possible but you can’t see anyone suspicious. Just like last time. Maybe there is a villain watching you? You’ve read about maniacs who just kill anyone and everyone for fun. What if you were prey to such a villain? How would you act? Your quirk is not for fighting, let alone fighting a villain! You want to scold yourself for your thoughts but the more you scold yourself, the more prominent the fear becomes in your mind.

You don’t feel as awkward as last time when you start running regardless; after all, it’s raining right now and people will assume that you just want to get back home to avoid getting too wet.

Your heart is pounding inside your chest due to your paranoia and the physical exercise but adrenaline keeps you going. You also need to make sure the bags don’t rip open and scatter your groceries all over the ground.

A quick look down to confirm the stability of the bags has you stop in your tracks. Something is wrong. Something is missing. Tampons. To be more precise your mom’s tampons.

“Great.” You mumble to yourself. You turn around to see if they dropped somewhere along the way but you can’t see them anywhere near. Fuck it, I’m not going back. You think to yourself and keep running, your lungs are burning and your legs are heavy but you push yourself forward.

It stops raining as fast as it started and the sun comes back out, the light reflecting on the wet street is almost blinding so you have to squint your eyes. In your head you are mentally preparing for the argument that will indefinitely ensue with your mom over the “forgotten” tampons. She would scold you for buying yourself tampons but not her and you wouldn’t know how to defend yourself. Even if you told her that you must’ve dropped them along the way she would ask you why you didn’t take the car, especially since you knew it would rain sooner or later.

You turn left and walk across the driveway towards the front door, ready to accept your mother’s “wrath” when something catches your eyes. You stop and blink, thinking you’re hallucinating but you’re not. You take a few steps forward, climb the steps and stop in front of the door, your eyes glued to the small box in front if your door.

“Tampons.” You mumble confused but feel relieved. No argument, no scolding, no accusations, no-

-no way they got here by themselves.

You feel sick to your stomach and you think you have to throw up. How did this box of tampons get here before you did? There is only one logical explanation and you don’t dare to even think it. With a pounding heart, you bend down and grab the box (it was surprisingly not wet), not quite accepting the fact that someone must’ve left them here. Someone who knows that they are yours. Someone who knows who you are. Someone who knows where you live.

Dabi snickers as he watches you hurry inside and close the door. He wasn’t able to see your face upon the realization but your body language spoke volumes.

His turquoise eyes linger on the front door for a couple more seconds before he slowly makes his way back to the hideout. But he then and there decides that you need some more action in your life. After all, he shouldn’t be the only one to have fun. For today you are safe though.

He’d be back soon enough and have all the fun with you in the world.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi #todoroki touya #todoroki touya x reader #dabei x reader #stalking #commission #littlesniggy #mha #mha bakugou #female reader #dabei x female reader #touya todoroki #touya x reader #mha x reader #long time no see

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calehenituse-brainrot · 2 years

Note

Hi! I’ve recently joined the TCF fandom (about a month ago, and I’m currently reading the novel hehe) and I guess you could say that I’m a really huge simp for Cale SO ITS A BLESSING THAT I CAME ACROSS YOUR ACCOUNT THANK YOU SO MUCH I REALLY LOVE YOUR WRITING!!

I was wondering if it’s alright to request? Could you write on what would it be like if Cale is jealous bc reader isnt giving him any attention or smth?im curious on how youd interpret him if he does get jelly like is he possessive of reader or just petty to others or to reader? Or a mix of both?

It’s really alright if you won’t accept this request, have a good daayyy!!

HELLOOO BABEYYY im about to go to sleep so let's talk about this for my late night scenarios

I hope it's okay for me to just write about what I think instead of a drabble🥲 also my first time working with bullet points yikes

there's a spoiler in here so please pay attention to the red letters! im putting a warning inside so u can skip the spoilers.

SO LETS TALK ABOUT JEALOUS CALE

i've had this rant before in my voice memos but i'll share my thoughts with the world

my man Cale is such a chill person so i think it's a bit hard(?) for him to get jealous

not that he doesnt care, he just trusts his significant other

i usually associate jealousy with insecurity so im pretty sure he's gonna be fineee

he's really confident with his looks and wealth and isnt the slightest bit insecure

(honestly? remembering the life he led before this one, im pretty sure he's grateful of what he has now)

hes also pretty sure you're not as close to other people than him

(let's be honest here, if you manage to steal this guy's heart, chances are you're spending nearly a 100% of your time with him and sharing the most deepest and vulnerable parts of your life with him)

he might not be all jealous but i have a feeling that he's territorial (im using the term as loosely as possible)

it's important for other people to know that you're a part of his family and know that they shouldn't bother you with nonsense

this would actually result in you walking around with a certain item that basically screams CALE HENITUSE'S PEOPLE, PROCEED WITH CAUTION

possessive? i dont think he's one to get possessive.

UHMM SPOILER ALERT FOR LATER CHAPTERS OF THE NOVEL

i forgot in what chapter but when the half-blood dragon mentioned about raon being "cale's dragon", cale immediately shuts him down

"Why is he my dragon? He is Raon Miru. Just Raon." or smth along those lines.

that really made me believe that Cale isn't the type to get possessive with people

OKAY END OF SPOILER, CONTINUE READING

Cale has always been someone who preaches about "being alive is the best" so if he were to be possessive, it would just be really,,, out of character ig💀

let's not talk about the priest smut i got in here

he had always talk about how people (especially his kids) are allowed to do whatever they want so yeah, him being possessive doesnt really fit him imo

(okay whee this got kinda long)

REGARDING IF HIS S/O ISNT PAYING ATTENTION TO HIM THOUGH??

everyone stand back, I have HCs about needy!Cale

the most annoying motherfucker on earth istg

you're just trying to look over reports

and hes staring at you with a frown on his face bcs??

this is snack time, [name]. SNACK TIME

why are you working???

why are you not enjoying your break with HIM?

do you know that tendency cats have when they see glass on the table?

where they just swoop on the fucking thing while staring at you dead in the eye as the sound of breaking glass fills the room?

he does that but with more consideration

basically he WILL make you stop working

he'll start with asking you questions and you'll answer him without looking up

"how was your day?"

"mhm, it was fine"

okay thats a bit...

cale doesnt like the fact that you're not looking at him and telling him about your day because what the heck?

he loves listening to ur voice and how your day went.

how dare u rob him of that pleasure?

"what's that?"

you waved the papers a bit but still doesnt look up, "work. you know, the usual."

"right..." cale stared at the papers in your hands. "what's it about?"

at this point, he's desperate to make you talk to him

"it's boring stuff," you told him, flipping a paper to check for something. "you'll fall asleep on your chair if i start explaining it."

okay WOW that's so not true!!

that paperwork shit is really boring tho, he cant make any promises💀

okay so cale failed his first attempt of getting you to pay attention

next attempt is by bothering you with another method

he's placing his hand on yours to get you to look at him, but even that was futile

you pulled your hand back because you needed to write smth

he's shuffling closer to you and you barely reacted because "yeah thats normal behavior for cale"

okay WOW, how long are you gonna keep this up?

you know how cats just slithers into your lap when you're doing smth?

he does that

he just laid his head down on your lap and while you're startled, he takes the paperwork away from your hand and placed it on the table

"cale... i need to work," you'd say with a frown.

"you can work later," he told you, grabbing your hand and giving it a light kiss. "you're supposed to be spending time with me."

"still—"

"you've been paying attention to your paperwork ever since you entered my room," he cuts you off with a small frown. "and didnt i say my bedroom is a free work zone?"

you raised an eyebrow. "i thought that only applies to you?"

"well, now it applies to you, too. so stop working."

honestly, what are you going to do with this man?

#yikes sorry if it ended a bit weird #i was in a rush because it's bedtime #yes i have a bedtime #it keeps me sane #cale henituse #cale henituse x reader #x reader #trash of the count's family #totcf #tcf cale #lout of the count’s family #cale henituse headcanons #tcf headcanons

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cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Perfectly Exasperating - Chapter 3

Synopsis: While you have been unknowingly kidnapped Zemo is determined to make the time he spends with you the best that he can

Word count: 5.4k

Author’s note: Hey all! This is sorta a one-month celebration of my account and for all the love you guys have shown this series and my other series 'A Freudian Slip' I can't thank you enough! My editing program decided to screw me over though so if you can see a difference grammatically in the first half and the second half that's why

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

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Your eyes slowly flutter open as the warmth from the sun shining through the curtains touching your skin waking you up. Yawning and stretching, feeling the soft duvet move on top of you, you sighed in content, closing your eyes again as you embraced the happiness which had been foreign to you for so long. You reach out to seize the end of the duvet and gradually slide out of the bed; you feel the slight chill of the morning breeze brush against your exposed legs. Crossing over to the wardrobe your hand reaches out to flick through the many dresses, shirts, trousers that hung in there, all belonging to shops such as Gucci, Prada, Valentino. There were clothes appropriate for any event, but today you choose comfortably as you pull out a maroon knitted sweater and dark blue jeans. Though appearing to be rather cheap clothes, you knew Zemo would never have spent less than $100 on them.

When Zemo said he would take care of you, he meant it in every aspect. It was a culture shock going from the relatively poor life you lived, surviving off the small amount of money they paid you for being an Avenger to being treated like royalty by Zemo. Not that you were complaining. It was a guilty pleasure of yours enjoying this luxury, a part of you hoping it would never end. If you had told yourself just a few weeks ago, you would have enjoyed living with Zemo you would have laughed in your face but that man had certainly turned on the charm and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest big thankful for him for everything he has done for you.

You finally leave the confines of your room, something you had only been allowed to do a few times until today. You convinced Zemo yesterday that you weren’t concussed from when John had hit you with the shield and that you would be fine getting up and walking around. He was still hesitant but knew he couldn’t keep you confined in your bed forever.

You close your eyes as you inhale the sweet smell of cooking pancakes, making your stomach grumble greedily. Following the scent, you work your way down through the interior design living room into the lavish kitchen where Zemo currently had his back turned to you as he attempted to flip the pancake he had in the frying pan. His purple turtleneck sleeves were pulled up, exposing his forearms as they tensed, trying to get the timing right to flip the pancake. He does so with perfect accuracy, the golden brownness of the pancake soaring up into the air and landing back down in the frying pan, sizzling.

Zemo giggles to himself, celebrating his minor achievement as he waves the frying pan, his body swaying along slightly with it.

“That smells heavenly,”

Zemo whips around at hearing your voice pierce the air. “Ah y/n! Please, take a seat while I make breakfast,”

His eyes follow you as you take a seat down at the table he had prepared for this morning, then focus back on the breakfast at hand. You pour out some orange juice Zemo had left on the table, then your gaze flickers back to him as he finishes cooking. He stacks the pancakes onto two plates and grabs some sugar, maple syrup, and lemons out of the shelves, giving you a choice of toppings.

You scoff as he turns around, seeing on the apron he had tied around himself the words ‘kiss the chef’ on it.

“Really?” you ask, raising the glass to your lips as you watch him glance down to his apron and then back up to you offended.

“You don’t like?”

“It’s embarrassing to look at!” you exclaim as he places the plates down on the table and sits down opposite you.

Zemo’s eyebrows twitch as he scoffs back at you, “I think it suits me, plus a kiss is expected after I worked so hard on breakfast” he says, tapping his cheek with his finger.

You raise an eyebrow, letting a breath out as you laugh, “Yeah, in your dreams,”

You two settle into a comfortable silence as you readily eat the breakfast he made. The pancakes were soft but delicious, sickeningly sweet but you have always had a sweet tooth and so it seems, does Zemo.

“I thought you would have one of your staff make breakfast, you never struck me as the person to do something yourself when you can make others do it,” you say breaking the silence as you finish the last of your pancakes.

Zemo glances up to you, tilting his head, “Why do you think that? Because I grew up rich?”

You nod, not attempting to make yourself sound nicer, “Yes. It’s common knowledge the rich are always spoilt”

His lips twitch up into a smile at your bluntness. He sighs, leaning back in his chair, crossing his legs as he addresses you.

“You’re right. Even though Sokovia was a rather small country, I grew up with more riches than most people could dream of. But at least I acknowledge my privilege. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”

“Depending on what you use your privilege for. Blowing up the UN isn’t exactly putting it to good use now stop avoiding my original question,”

Zemo bites the inside of his mouth as you see through his attempts at trying to dodge the question. His admiration for you however outweighed any annoyance he might have felt at being called out for it. Leaning forward again to rest his arms on the table he says,

“It’s only me, you and my Butler who occasionally comes in. After I was arrested, there was no work for my staff so they all left and I can’t exactly hire anyone else,”

You nod, satisfied, then dab the napkin that Zemo has set out beside you, on your lips to get rid of any leftover sugar. You place your hands on the table and push yourself up from it.

“Well, thank you for breakfast, and thank you for looking after me this last week… that was nice of you, but I better be going. Do you know where my phone is?”

Zemo’s eyes furrow and he immediately stands up as you walk away from the table. He rushes past you, stepping in front of you to stop you from walking.

“You can’t leave y/n,”

Your head jilts back in confusion, “Why not?”

“We ruined Karli’s plans, so she is trying to find us. That’s why Sam and James are out hiding and why we must remain here,”

“I can handle Karli,” you tell Zemo, trying to step past him, but his hand reaches out and grasps your arm firmly.

“Not a super-soldier y/n. It’s too dangerous, especially after your recovery. James and Sam will reach out to me once it is clear to leave, but for now, we stay.”

You huff in frustration, shaking Zemo’s hand off your arm as you cross them. “Well, at least get me a phone so I can keep in contact with them too,”

“I’m afraid I can’t get you a phone currently, but you are welcomed to use mine. Alas, James and Sam have my number but I don’t have theirs’s so unless you remember their numbers we have to wait till they message first to reach out to them,”

You let out a melodramatic sigh, rolling your head looking to the side of the room then back to Zemo.

“So what the hell am I to do to keep occupied?”

Zemo tilts his head, his eyes flicker to the side in thought as he opens his mouth wordlessly and his eyes move back to yours, his eyebrows raising as he frowns thinking over the idea that has just entered his head.

With his fingers, Zemo, gazing at you eagerly, beckoned you down the corridor, towards a giant door that was at the end.

“I’m not a dog Zemo” you complain as you follow him

“Have you ever heard of dramatic effect?”

Zemo had taken off his apron and replaced it with that coat he loved to wear so much. You firmly believed it gave him a power complex. He strutted to the end of the hallway and placed his hands on the door. His face turns to you smirking, enjoying this dramatic pause as you roll your eyes at him. He pushes the door open and stands to the side, sweeping his arm across the space to let you in.

You walk past him and your eyes widen in amazement as you walk into the most magnificent library you had ever seen. The room itself stretched out almost further than you could see, seeming to go on and on. The shelves looked like they reached up to the sky, each one stacked with thousands of beautiful hardback books. The design of it looked like you had just stepped into heaven, with white and gold being the main colour scheme. On the ceiling was a painted sky with the gods on, looking down at you. On the pillars separating the shelves were little cherubs, their bows positioned to pierce your heart. Everything about this library was beautiful. It felt like a library that should belong to a museum not kept in this private mansion.

“You see why the dramatic effect was necessary?” Zemo says stepping up beside you, looking out at the shelves before you.

“Zemo this is… this is beautiful,”

His eyes flicker to you then back to the library, a smile appearing on his lips, “Yes, I suppose it is. When I was younger, I had always taken things like this for granted, but after my time in prison I believe it’s made me more humble,”

You walk over to the nearest bookshelf, letting your fingers brush over the colourful hardbacks. You pull one book out, stroking the golden platted side. “You must have every practically every book in existence here”

“I have more books than I could ever get round to reading. You can find anything you want to read here,”

After ten minutes you had gathered a rather sizable book pile you were determined to read, full of fictional and non-fictional books, some of your favorites and some you had never read before.

Zemo chuckled as you tried to hold all of them in your grasp. As you picked one up, the book on the very top of your pile slipped and fell to the floor. Panic surged in you, worried you would damage something so expensive, but Zemo’s hand appears and catches it before it could hit the ground.

Straightening up, he gave you an amused smile, “Maybe you should let me help carry them”

Accepting his help, he takes half the book pile off you and guides you over to a place deep in the library where you two could read. There were two light green armchairs facing each other, with a fireplace just behind them. To the side of the chairs were small tables which contained bookmarks, a goblet, and an ashtray, and to the side of one chair was a globe which could be opened, and inside it held a decanter full of whiskey.

Zemo places the books in his arms on the table then walks over to one shelf, browsing till he finally finds the book he was looking for. He returns to find you getting comfortable in your chair, opening the first book.

“Whisky?” he asks, opening up the globe beside him.

A few days ago you would have said ‘no, no way,’ but today you smile and nod your head, reaching out with the glass beside you to gracefully accept the drink.

The next couple of days were spent similarly with you and Zemo spending much of your time reading in the library together. Occasionally you two would even read to each other as he had first done with you when you had woken up here. Though you would never admit it to him, his smokey voice made you very comfortable. If he tried, he could lull you to sleep with that accent of his.

You couldn’t help but try to separate the Zemo you know now as the one you used to hate. Yes, he had torn apart your family, but he had all the reason for what happened to Sokovia, what happened to his family. Plus, this Zemo seemed to try hard to make it up to you. Almost too hard. He was trying everything to keep you entertained while you were stuck here, make your life as comfortable as he could. It was nice.

You strolled into the kitchen hearing the quiet buzz of the radio playing the latest top hits and the sound of someone humming along to the music. In there you find Zemo by the counter, fixated on the bowl he held in his arm and the spoon in his hand as he delicately tries to put the mixture into the cupcake trays before him. You had offered to make food, feeling like he always did too much for you but every day he insisted he would, even on days where it Butler would come around.

“Need help?” you ask, walking over to stand beside him.

He glances at you, then back to the tray he has laid out before him. “I’ve got a handle on this,” he replies just as he spills some mixtures onto the counter, making him swear under his breath.

“Uh-huh, sure,” you say, looking down at the spilled mixture. You turn to face him, letting out a chuff as you place a hand on his arm, “Zemo stop being so prideful and let me help”

As soon as your hand comes in contact with his arm, he freezes. He glances down at the ground, swallowing then his eyes flicker to yours and he smiles gently, his usual arrogance disappearing. “Okay,”

You grab a spoon from the draw and help Zemo scrap off what he puts into his spoon into the cake tray with accuracy. You two stand together, your shoulders brushing up against each other till you finish and put it into the oven.

“We have 30 minutes until we need to get them out. Why don’t you read for a bit while I clean up,”

“I can help clean up,” You tell him already going over to the sink to turn the water on, “You’re not my servant Zemo,”

“Helmut” he suddenly says

You turn back to look at him, confused at the seriousness of his face, “Please y/n, call me Helmut,”

Your mouth moves wordlessly for a moment, then you say, “Helmut,” trying the name out on your tongue. You were so used to calling him Zemo, you had forgotten that that wasn’t his first name.

“Thank you” he whispers, glancing away from you bashfully.

He takes a towel off the side of the rail and dries up everything you washed as you two settled into a peculiar silence.

Attempting to liven the atmosphere again, you put a cup just at the right angle of the running tap that the water splashed into Zemo’s coat. He steps back shocked, glancing down at his coat then back to you. He lets out a laugh, his mouth open in surprise that you would do that. “Oh, if that is how it is”

Zemo quickly grabs a mug, running it under the following water. Realizing what he was going to do you let out a squeal and rush for the door but you don’t get far enough till you feel the water hit your back, soaking your t-shirt.

“Helmut!” you gasp as he chuckles at you. You run forward to grab the nearest thing in front of you to chuck it at him, a piece of bread in this case but he ducks as it flies over him. He fills the cup up again and runs towards you but you get to the table and hide on the other side till you were both poised opposite each other waiting for one of you to make the first move.

“This isn’t fair!” you whine, feeling the coldness of your t-shirt cling to your back. “Who said anything about fairness!” Zemo shouted back, grinning at you.

Eventually, you two called a truce when the oven chimes letting you two know the cupcakes were finished baking. After that day, Zemo always asked if you wanted to help him make meals.

“Is the popcorn ready?” you shout as you jump up from the floor where you were placing the DVD into the DVD player.

“Almost done” Zemo calls out.

While waiting, you settle yourself down on the middle of the red sofa, twisting your back to get that perfect spot as you stared up at the giant screen in front of you.

Zemo emerges from the kitchen holding the popcorn and places the bowl onto the table in front of you. He settles down beside you, instantly positioning his arms on the top of the sofa, resting behind your head.

He leans forward to pick up some of the popcorn, tossing it in his mouth as he asks you what you have chosen to watch tonight.

“Beauty and the Beast,” you say excitingly and Zemo coughs, leaning forward as he accidentally inhaled the popcorn in his mouth.

He wipes the tear from his eye as he leans back and you give him a confused look, “Do you not like the film?”

“No-no, it’s not that. W-why do you want to watch the film?”

“It’s my favorite Disney film,”

He nods his head slightly looking down at the popcorn, “I see…” he then glances back to you, looking you in the eyes, “Why is it your favorite Disney film?”

You lean back sighing as you think the movie over, “Well, I’ve loved it since I was a kid. I always wanted to be like Bell and I found the beast so sweet and gentle”

“Even though he imprisoned her?”

“He let her go in the end, and she came back to him”

Zemo opened his mouth wanting to say more, but you sushed him as the movie started, wanting to concentrate only on it.

Zemo turned down the lights to make the experience feel as cinematic as he could of you. Grabbing the bowel he offered you some of the popcorn and you smiled at him in thanks. He tried to enjoy the movie, but his eyes kept wandering back to you, watching your expressions as you watched the movie. His heart skipped a beat every time you laughed at it when that gorgeous smile would grace your face, even in the sad moments where it looked like you were about to cry. He loved seeing how you reacted to everything. There were so many things he had taken for granted, and it felt like he was discovering them all over again with you. It fascinated him to find out the beauty and the beast was your favorite film. It was almost ironic given your current situation, one of which you remained painfully unaware of. He knew he couldn’t keep you in the dark forever. Sam and James were bound to discover where you two were eventually, which is why he wanted to enjoy every moment he had with you to the fullest before it was over.

As the movie went on, Zemo could feel your body moving closer and closer to him. The heat that radiated from your body made him want to wrap his arms around you, but he didn’t know if that would go too far. Roughly by the end of the movie, your head rested against his chest, moving slightly up and down as he breathed. He could tell by your shallow breathing you had entered the realm of dreams.

Looking down at you, he couldn’t help but admire how peaceful you looked. When on the mission with Sam and James you had always appeared tense, prepared to fight your way out of a situation as soon as possible, but at this moment you were relaxed and it made his heart flutter. He could look at you forever like this and never tire of it.

He had found himself in the past comparing you to his wife. He felt conflicted feeling this way about another woman, but how he felt about you differed from how he felt about his wife. It was new, exciting, addicting. Slowly raising his hand, he brushes a piece of hair that had fallen over your face while you slept. Your skin was smooth against his fingers and so soft. His fingers lingered on your skin before finally, he let his arm rest around your body, holding you close as you slept against his chest.

Your arms were raised, feeling the walls on either side of you as you tried to figure out if you were going and if you were about to bump into anything while Zemo’s hands were clasped around your eyes tightly.

“Don’t you trust me y/n” he whispers in your year, snickering.

“Do you want a pleasant lie or the harsh truth?” you ask, turning your head slightly but Zemo tuts and moves your head back with his hands

“Not long now, just a few more steps,”

“Till what!” you whine

“Be patient y/n!”

Zemo lifts one hand of your eyes telling you to keep them close and you hear the creak of a door open ahead of you. His hand returns to your face and with slightly pushing his body against yours, he urges you forward into this new room.

“Can I finally look now?”

Zemo removes his hands and steps back from you, “Okay y/n, open your eyes”

Opening them you gasped in shock seeing what was before you. On a stand was a replica of Belle’s dress in Beauty and the Beast. Its honey yellow colour shone out, the top of it tightly clung to the mannequin it was on while the bottom poofed out, it hung with no shoulder straps and came with yellow gloves. Everything about it was perfect.

“Helmut I- I’m, stunned,”

“You like it?” he asks anxiously

You turn to him grinning, “Of course I do!”

You hug him tightly, ecstatic, then rushed over to the dress, brushing your fingers along it. “It’s beautiful” you whisper.

“I think I got the sizes right,” Zemo says coming up beside you, a pink tinge to his cheeks, “There’s only one way to know for you,” he adds on, turning to you giving you a gentle smile

He helps you take the dress off and chuckles as he watches you rush off with it to get changed, then leaves to get changed himself.

The dress fitted perfectly on you. Everything from the bust down to the waist. Even the gloves fitted perfectly. When you entered the bathroom, you found Zemo had even found some make-up in case you wanted to use any. He thought of everything.

Finally looking at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. You truly felt like a Disney princess. Slowly you walked back down the stairs and enter the room Zemo had to lead you in, to begin with. As you walked in, let out a merry laugh as you saw Zemo, dressed up in a blue jacket, embroidered with yellow roses on the sleeves, just like the beast. He was standing by a record player, putting a disk in as you walked in. He turns to look at you, his mouth opening in wonder.

“Y/n… you look glorious,”

His sincere comment makes your cheeks heat up and you hold your arms out to him, squeezing your hands letting him know you want to hold his hands.

He turns the record on and your favorite song from Beauty and the Beast floats out, making your cells light up with excitement.

“Helmut” you start to say as he walks over to you, holding his hand out, “Why are you doing this?”

He gently takes your gloved hand, bending over to kiss it. “I know it isn’t easy being stuck in here all the time and you said you loved ‘Beauty and the Beast’ so I thought it would make a pleasant treat,”

His arms hesitantly touch your waist as he looks into your eyes as if asking it was okay. You nod and step closer to him, taking his hand in yours holding it up. Getting into the waltz position you two start to move along the dance floor, swaying to the music.

You two slide along the ballroom floor, picking up speed. As you look up to him, he breathes out smiling back down at you happily. His hand on his waist spins your around as your dress flutters out. You squeal in delight as you grasp back onto his hand as you felt dizzy.

You two turn around the floor looking each other deep in the eyes. You could feel his breath on your face as you two were barely inches apart from each other. Zemo pulls you in even closer as your arm goes around his neck, your body pulled into his. He dips you as you cling to him tightly for dear life as the music fades.

He holds you into that position, panting as he looks at you, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. You could feel that pull towards him, your eyes starting to flutter shut. He leans towards you but suddenly you feel your fingers slip and you almost let go of him. His other hand quickly wraps around making sure you don’t fall to the floor.

He helps you back on your feet and you two steps apart. You look away feeling your cheeks burn up again.

“Helmut, thank you. Thank you so much” you tell him earnestly

He looks deep into your eyes, smiling in bliss, “Anything for you y/n”

“Y/n, are you awake?”

You groan as you hear Zemo whisper beside you, waking you from your sleep.

“Ugh, Helmut what time is it,” you moan turning over with your eyes are closed.

“It’s 8, time to wake up”

“Nooooo” you whine screwing up your eyelids.

You hear him chuckle and then you feel something push against your lips. You open your eyes confused to see Zemo beside you, holding a strawberry to your lips.

You smile and take a bite out of it, moaning in delight as you taste its sweetness as you sit up. He sits up beside you and holds out some melted chocolate for you to dip the strawberry in.

“Helmut, you spoil me”

“Not enough,” he whispers back as he puts the chocolate-covered strawberry to your lips letting you take another bite.

“I’m not even surprised anymore to see you in my bed when I wake up,” you tell him

“Technically this is my bed”

“You know what I mean!”

He chuckles as he pushes his head back into the headboard, “I thought it would be a nice way for you to wake up,”

“Consider me impressed,” you tell him, looking over at him smiling. He glances back to you, his lips twitching up. You lean into his side, not caring at the moment you were in a simple nightdress. You close your eyes inhaling his cologne and picking up a strawberry to feed to him.

“I could get used to this,” you whisper to him

You scan the piano music book before looking back down to the notes before you. It had been a while since you had last played so you thought you might as well pick it up while you were stuck in Zemo’s mansion.

You press the notes but every time you tried to play one of the chords you always missed one. You were trying to play your favorite song 'Comptine d'un autre été' but to no avail.

“You need to flow with the music and not worry about hitting the right notes”

You turn around and smile as you see Zemo approach you from behind. “Isn’t the whole point of music to play the right notes?” you say sarcastically

Zemo lets out a huff chuckling, “Well yes but you’ll hit the notes when you stop trying so hard. Now try again”

You turn back around and attempt the music again but hit the wrong notes making you slam the piano in annoyance.

“Don’t damage the piano”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, “I should give up,”

“No don’t do that” Zemo says, brushing his fingers over your waist, “Here let me help you”

He puts his hands on top of yours guiding them, “Let’s try again,”

You look to the music then back down to your hands which had Zemo’s resting on and attempt to start playing again. His hands moved in time with yours as they guided along with the piano, pressing down on your fingers when you needed to. You got every note. Well, Zemo got every note.

“See, easy,” he says as he pulls back from you. “Now try again”

You attempt to play again but feeling his eyes stare into your back you couldn’t concentrate and messed up the notes again.

“We just went through this!”

“It’s hard to concentrate with you staring at me!” you exclaim turning around to him. Your eyes widen as what you just said as he tilts his head, a smug smile appearing on his lips.

“Oh, I make it hard for you to concentrate do I?”

You groan at his cockiness, looking away from him so he doesn’t see your glistening red cheeks.

He walks up behind you again, his fingers grazing your jawline, stopping at your chin as he raises your head to look up at him. Seeing him look down at you made a knot in your stomach tighten.

“You are awfully red y/n”

“Shut up”

He chuckles and leans down, placing a kiss on your forehead, “I like it when you blush”

The breath gets caught in your lungs as you feel his lips on your forehead, their softness cooling your burning skin.

For the first time in your life, you were rendered speechless, by Helmut Zemo no less.

His teeth flash in his smile as he looks down at you, “Come let’s practice this again” he says, leaning over as his back pressed into yours, putting his hands back on top of yours.

“Zemo do you mind if I borrow your phone briefly to see if that new video has been released?” you call out picking up Zemo’s phone that he had left on your seat.

“Go ahead! Just don’t check anything else on there” he yells back

“Worried I will find your nudes?” you call out as you unlock the phone. Pressing onto the youtube app you sigh in annoyance seeing no new video and so you were about to put the phone back down when a message appeared from a contact simply labeled ‘S’

It read, ‘S: Look just tell us where you have taken her. Whatever you are doing with her it isn’t worth it”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at what the hell could that message mean. You click onto the message stream just to see a ton of messages from this ‘S’ contact but with no reply from Zemo.

You hesitate for a moment, knowing Zemo wouldn’t want you to do what you were about to do, but your curiosity got the best of you and you pressed the call button.

It rang for a few seconds and then the line picked up.

“Zemo” Sam’s voice rang out through the phone

“Sam?” you ask back

“W-what, YN/!? Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Woah Woah Sam, calm down, I’m fine! I’m with Helmut-Sam what is going on?”

“What has he done to you?”

“What do you mean he's done nothing, Sam I thought me and Helmut were hiding out here till Karli was done with her plan?”

You hear a sigh down the phone and then the muffled voices of what you could make out as Bucky and Sharon down the line.

Sam picked the phone back up and spoke directly, “Y/n you need to get out of there now. Zemo, he's kidnapped you”

The phone slips from your hand and lands on the floor with a loud crash.

Tag list: @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 @loonylunalovegood77 @lieutenantn @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean @arianalilyblack @mandowhatnow @scullys-alienpussy @felicityofbakerstreet @babayaga67 @spookycereal-s

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

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gavin-plz-call-me · 3 years

Note

i saw you did an nsfw alphabet for wannabe challenge so i was wondering if you could do one for tears of themis? i'd love to see one for artem

Hell yeah, alphabets are the only nsfw stuff I'm good at writing

AO3

Artem NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

-Stills inside/beside you for a moment while you both catch your breath, then he’s combing through your hair, peppering your body with loving kisses.

-Has wet wipes/tissues to help clean you up at arm's length, so if let’s be honest, when you whine about not wanting to leave his side just yet, he can help you clean up.

-If you’re still clingy after a while, this man will carry you to the bathroom to get the rest of the way cleaned up.

-If you find yourself in a more dominant role in the bedroom sub Artem? It’s more likely than you think be prepared to pepper that man with so much love and care.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

-His favorite body part of himself is his eyes. They’re a nice color, but I don’t think he thinks about his appearance too much.

-As for you, would it be cliche to say your brain?

-While your beauty was what attracted him first, your mind is what really sealed the deal.

-Your mouth is a close second, because it helps you voice your thoughts in that beautiful voice of yours and, I mean, if you wanted to give him a blow job too he wouldn’t be complaining…

-Is an ass man.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

-Is hesitant on deciding where to cum.

-He thinks cumming anywhere in/on you would not be a very pleasant experience for you.

-But in the heat of the moment, he’ll probably end up cumming inside you if he’s wearing protection, or on your thighs/ass if he’s not.

-When he cums, whether it be in you or on you, he’s grabbing you a tissue when he comes down from his high to clean you up.

-If you swallow his cum he’ll be a little disgusted, but a lot turned on.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

-Has masturbated in his office after you’ve left on multiple occasions.

-Sometimes the perfume you were wearing was extra enticing, sometimes what you were wearing made you look extra hot, and sometimes your presence alone is enough to get him hot and excited.

-Is mostly ashamed about the times he did it before you two were dating because it felt like an intrusion of your privacy.

-Once Celestine came to his office right after he finished and he was so mortified that she’d somehow be able to tell that he did something. She knew something was up because of how much he was blushing, but she didn’t know what exactly

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

-Big old virgin

-I’m not even saying that to be mean plus being a virgin isn’t bad it’s just true.

-Sure, his lack of experience may be a bit of a hindrance at first, but he’s a clean slate.

-He’s not gonna be doing some weird thing with your clit because a girl he was with before liked that.

-Train him to perfectly pleasure you, and, trust me, he’s a fast learner.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

-Your first few times together he only did missionary, because, while he knew there were other options, he didn’t know how to initiate them.

-As he got more experience, however, he grew to absolutely love doggy style.

-Loves your ass, so it’s an obvious choice. Plus, if he’s extra flustered, he can easily hide it.

-Grips your ass extra hard while kissing your neck and back. If he’s feeling extra brave, expect a few whispers about how good you feel.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

-He has his goofy moments, but most of the time he’s 100% serious.

-Whether it be because he’s concentrating on learning how to pleasure you correctly, or, when he’s gained a bit of experience, just concentrating on both of your pleasure.

-I feel like as you guys get closer, however, an awkward moment may turn into a brief bout of giggles shared between the two of you before continuing.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

-Shaved himself completely when you two started dating.

-Was convinced you’d be disgusted by any hair down there. My poor insecure baby

-When he gets more comfortable around you, he’ll let it grow out, but he still trims it to keep it neat.

-Carpets match the drapes.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

-Is a whore for a sexy, romantic atmosphere.

-I’m talking rose petals, candles, and a couple of glasses of non-alcoholic wine.

-Wanna have the most romantic love-making session imaginable? Set all of that up for him instead of the other way around.

-He’ll be so in love with you at that moment he’ll have no choice but to give you the best orgasms you’ve ever had.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

-Before meeting you, he jacked off maybe once or twice a week, and it was more of something he had to do than something he wanted to do.

-When he met you, he thought you were the most attractive person he’d ever seen, so his sex drive and, naturally, his masturbation sessions increased.

-Increased to every other day, maybe every day. He tried to not think of you during these times as he felt it was an invasion of privacy emphasis on tried.

-After finally getting together with you, his sessions have decreased back down to once or twice a week.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

-Likes having sex in his office, but that’s the most public space he’ll do it in.

-Also loves it when you’re slightly dominant on him.

-Doesn’t want to do any of the more kinky stuff, tying him or you, depending on his mood with a tie is about as far as he’ll go.

-But just take charge, he loves it.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

-Can’t go wrong with the good old fucking in bed. It’s easy, comfortable, and you guys can take as long as you want.

-Get him riled up at work by wearing something that beautifully shows of your ass, or make sure he knows you’re wearing that pair of panties you know he loves or, fuck it, no panties at all he’ll polietly ask you into his office so he can fuck your brains out.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

-Loves when you assert yourself, especially at work.

-Get all confident during a trial because you know you’re going to win? That’s all the motivation he needs.

-Does not help his productivity at all, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

-Expect to fuck after a trial, extra hard if you won.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

-No threesomes/group sex.

-It’s not even because he’ll get jealous okay maybe a bit of that but you were his first and only. Everything he’s learned about sex has been about specifically pleasuring you, he wouldn’t know where to begin when having sex with other people.

-He’s more than content with you being his one and only.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

-Not skilled at the beginning like all things sexual, but he’s a fast learner.

-Good communication is key here, as it is in all aspects of sex with Artem. Guide him to where you want to be pleasured, praise him when you really like what he’s doing, and give him some delicious moans and he’ll be a pro at fucking you with his tounge alone in no time.

-Is too shy to ask for you to go down on him, and will insist you don’t have to when you try to initiate it.

-Ignore him and do it, the noises you draw from him are absolutely worth it.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

-Starts off at a weird middle ground sort of pace, not fast and not slow.

-Is fond of slow and sensual when he grows more experienced, but will occasionally get rough with you.

-That usually happens when he gets a bit too jealous of a guy who got a bit too close to you for your liking.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

- doesn’t really have a choice in the matter at the beginning, mr. 30 seconds (sorry Artem)

-For real, he prefers longer love-making sessions, but if you’re teasing him in the office a quickie will ensue.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

-Grows more confident the more the two of you have sex.

-He does like fucking in his office, so he likes a bit of risk, but there being too many people in the office, or the chance of Celestine walking in at anytime, Artem would much rather feign working on a case and take you home.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

-At first, like most virgin boys, his stamina is basically nonexistent.

-Let him take his time, he’ll get to fucking you until the sun rises in no time at all.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

-Has never thought about getting one for himself when his hand does the job well enough.

-Is very open to using toys on you in the bedroom, especially when he’s feeling insecure about his ability to please you which happens often, scream his name and make him forget those insecurities.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

-Not a teaser in the slightest.

-You want something specific in the bedroom? He’s already doing it, you barely have to ask.

-On the flip side, sort of loves it when you’re unfair to him.

-Just barely touch him and stop at the brink of his orgasm, he gets a sick sort of pleasure from that.

-It also helps him gain more control over himself in the bedroom, so it’s a win-win.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

-May try to stay quiet, after all, in all the porn he’s watched which isn’t a lot because I feel like watching it makes him feel uncomfortable the man is always basically silent.

-That does not work out for him, though. He gets so overwhelmed with pleasure that he can’t control what his vocal cords are doing.

-Gains a bit more control over it over time, but he realizes you like his moans, so he stops trying to keep them at bay.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

-Is a total switch.

-Can be pretty dominant at some times see his atmospheric card

-But I can totally see him wanting you to dom him sometimes. Loves seeing you dominate the court, if you bring that energy to bed, oh boy is he like putty in your hands.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

-He’s of average girth and slightly above average length. Has a nice, thick vein that runs the length of his penis.

-Uncut.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

-Has a very active imagination how else would he become such a great lawyer?

-And while that helps him out in his work, anything about you can really set him off.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

-Is out like a light

-Especially the first few times, his body doesn’t know what hit him.

-But even after a while, he works so hard that the moment he has the chance to fall asleep, his body is taking that chance.

-Make sures to stay up long enough to get cleaned off and help you clean yourself up.

#Tears of themis #tears of themis artem #artem wing #tears of themis headcanon #tears of themis headcanons #tears of themis fic #tears of themis fanfic #nsft #tears of themis nsft

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writing-on-the-wahl · 3 years

Note

Part two to boys and butter? (I know I already requested something but still)

Ok here goes! Hope you enjoy!

Part 1 here. (based off a prompt by @nuttynutcycle)

*special thanks to @im-a-wonderling for the beta read, edits, and fantastic ideas!!*

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

Villain was washing her hair, for the fourth time, cursing stupid heroes for forcing her to get her hair wet. In water. For the fourth time that day.

A loud pounding interrupted her ranting and her shampooing.

Who would dare?

“Uh Villain?”

She lifted her head out of the sink and turned off the water.

“What!?!”

“Um well, Sidekick is here.”

“And?”

“Well, he uh, he says he wants to talk?”

She growled and reached for a towel.

Henchman leapt back as she wrenched open the door, spraying water droplets in every direction. “So you just let him in?”

How did he even know where her lair was?

“No!! He’s standing outside the front door.”

Might as well post a billboard saying ‘Villain lives here!’

“Get him inside, now!”

“Where—?”

“I don’t care! The entryway! Just get him off the street!”

Henchman scrambled away as Villain took the towel to her hair before pulling up the hood of her jacket.

She should probably have her people send Sidekick away, vulnerable as she was at the moment, but this didn’t feel like a trap. At least not the dangerous kind. More of the buttery kind.

She stomped through the upstairs, her henchmen darting out of her way. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she paused. Her mask was still upstairs covered in nasty butter, and even if Sidekick knew where she lived, she didn’t need him seeing her face as well.

“Hit the lights!” she shouted.

Every single light in the house went out. At least her people were efficient.

She tugged her hood down further as she rounded the corner to the entryway, clinging to the shadows.

Sidekick stood framed in the light shining through the window on the front door, his hands raised unthreateningly to the sides.

“Why didn’t you just turn off the lights with your powers?” It was a curious question rather than a judgmental one, and so quiet she wondered if he’d meant to say it out loud.

Before she could answer, he shook his head. “Right sorry!” He muttered. “Not my business. That’s not why I came...” It was clear now he was in fact talking to himself, and hadn’t yet noticed her come in. His hand darted up to his glasses, pushing them back up the bridge of his nose, before the cocking of her henchmen’s guns sent his hand back away from his body. “Sorry! Sorry! Nervous habit!”

Villain couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on her lips.

“Have you ever dropped a blow dryer in water?”

He jerked around, scanning the shadows until he spotted her. “I-um-no? But that sounds rather dangerous.... electrical currents in water can lead to...”

“Exactly.”

His face was half in shadow, but the adorable confusion was easy to see.

“I was washing my hair.”

His face, or what she could see of it, flushed red.

“I’m sorry-I didn’t... I don’t...”

Oh this was too fun.

But she decided to put him out of his misery.

“In the sink. My hair is wet...Wet hair, electrical current...” she waved her hands in an explosive gesture and didn’t have to wait long for him to piece it together. It was a rather unfortunate twist of her powers that she could essentially summon lightning, but if she was the slightest bit wet, all that energy went into her rather than her intended target.

“So you can’t use your powers when you’re wet?”

Oh no.

She’d been so distracted by his utterly innocent flustering that she hadn’t thought about the ramifications of telling a member of Hero Agency her biggest weakness.

Should she just kill him now?

But he was so cute...

Sidekick had noticed her silence. He groaned. “Listen. This isn’t why I’m here. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Then why are you here?”

He reached for his pocket, but froze as her henchmen advanced.

“Sorry! Sorry! I just need to get something out of my pocket.” He looked at her, or rather, in her direction, since she was still obscured by the darkness.

Villain dipped her head. “It’s alright. Just move very slowly.”

He took her words to heart, moving with painstaking slowness as he pulled a small paper from his front pocket. He gingerly unfolded it before extending it out to her.

“Other Henchman?”

Other Henchman stepped forward, gun aimed at Sidekick’s chest, and took the paper. He backed up until he was out of arms reach, then turned and delivered her the paper. She squinted at the writing, fingered the thick paper. It wasn’t a note, it was a $100 bill.

“What is this?”

“It’s $100.”

“I know that.” He flinched at the venom in her voice, and she mentally reminded herself to be gentle.

“Why are you handing me money, Sidekick?”

“It’s a bribe.”

“A what?”

“Or a payment. I mean however you want to look at it. And I can’t explain, so please don’t ask me any questions, but I will give you $100 if you let me borrow your mask for an hour.”

Hero blinked, several times, thinking back on the strange events of the day. First the heroes... now Sidekick.

“Are you making a game of me?” The quiet question hung in the air for the briefest moment before—

“NO!!” The outburst from the timid Sidekick made her jump.

He ran his fingers through his curly hair, but this time her people didn’t bother to protest his sudden movement. They could tell, as she could, that he wasn’t a threat.

“I’m not trying to mock you, but I can’t explain right now. But... please?”

Villain couldn’t doubt his sincerity.

“So you’re wanting to… what? Rent my mask for an hour?”

“Yes.” He squeaked out.

“And what’s to guarantee you’ll bring it back?”

He paused. “I give you my word.”

Villain laughed. “You’ll have to forgive me for doubting the word of a sworn enemy.”

Sidekick shifted from foot to foot.

“Well, what else do you have?” Sidekick’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you willing to offer as collateral?”

“I--” He reached into his pockets. Keys, wallet, phone. Nothing she was interested in.

“What’s that around your neck?”

Sidekick’s hand flew to the chain peeking out of the collar of his shirt. “Nothing!” he replied too quickly.

“Hmmmm. Well I think I’ve made my decision. You can leave whatever it is that’s hanging around your neck here with me until you return my mask, or you can leave now, before I decide to keep you here, indefinitely.” She wasn’t actually into the whole kidnapping scene, but she couldn’t resist teasing him.

“I..It’s… you wouldn’t want it.”

“Oh?”

He pulled the chain out of his shirt, revealing a small blue shell. She knew he had some sort of water affinity, but had avoided him. The whole ‘get wet and your powers backfire thing’ really stole the appeal of being close enough to see his powers in action.

Villain raised her eyebrows. “Explain.”

“Well, I have water powers.”

“And? Hurry up, little hero. Before my offer expires.”

He sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “Igetmypowersfromtheshell.”

It took her a moment to process his jumbled words, then Villain blinked. Twice.

“I- well..” She’d been expecting some sentimental ‘I remember the day I found this shell’ drivel, but… his powers came from a shell? The look on his face told her he wasn’t lying. She didn’t want to be anywhere near some mystical shell-thing, but she’d already made her offer.

“The shell as collateral for my mask. Take it or leave it.” She waved the $100 bill. “Oh and either way, I’m keeping this.”

Sidekick closed his eyes and nodded once.

“Henchman,” she signaled him to draw closer. He listened to her instructions before darting up the stairs.

When he came back down, he held out his hand, but she waved him off, pointing at Sidekick.

Sidekick stiffened at Henchman’s approach, but relaxed when he saw the object Henchman held pinched between two fingers. He reluctantly pulled the chain over his head and dropped it into Henchman’s open palm before taking the mask Henchman now extended to him.

“Careful it’s-"

“What in the world?”

Villain covered her eyes. She really should have cleaned her mask first.

“Don’t ask.”

Sidekick nodded. “Ok then. I guess I’ll just be going?”

He took a hesitant step back, and when no one stopped him, he gradually turned and grasped the handle of the door.

“Sidekick?”

He froze.

“60 minutes. Starting... now.”

He vanished out the door.

Villain sniffed her hair and gagged. Then she went back upstairs to wash it for the fifth time. She should have been plotting revenge against Other Hero, but instead she was puzzling over a endearingly curious curly-headed, glasses-wearing sidekick and the tiny blue shell that now hung around her neck.

#hero x villain #heroes and villains #hero #villain #boys and butter #villain x sidekick #snippet #my writing #write #writeblr #sidekick

152 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 3 years

Note

umm maybe this is me projecting bc i am messaging you during my break but for a drabble request, yoongi in a retail setting???? 😐😐😐😐 oc could either be a co-worker or a regular customer who asks too many questions 😔😌

retail-type beat

drabble week: day three

drabble week masterlist

pairing: customer!yoongi x retail worker!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second. anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

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the last time you checked, work doesn’t start until nine

you kNEW it doesn’t start until 9 in the morning, so clearly that’s why you’re just wearing slides instead of your sneakers

the company uniform is either black or purple (it has to be from what the store is selling though so you can get to choose) with of course!!!! a lanyard!!!!

and you know this, because you’re still wearing your slides from home because it isn’t opening time yet

“goddamn it, i forgot to bring my slippers,” jin moans the moment he walks to see you, looking down on your feet that only reminds him he’d be stuck in his cool yet painfully uncomfy sneakers

he’s probably the only co-worker that you’re truly close with, not feeling the urge to sell him just to get a free day

“i told you to get the sneakers that nurses use!!”

hands-down one of the best purchases you’ve ever made

retail’s hard and it’s not exactly the best-paying job!!! thankfully the franchise owner is a bit more generous so that’s why you get slightly-higher hourly pay

“i would if they looked a little more seasoned,” jin snorts and stubbornly crosses his arms, “i might sacrifice my pride and buy some compression socks.”

OOOOOH THOSE ARE GOOD TOO

makes you feel like ur walking on air

but lol no seokjin isn’t ready to buy those just yet

he’ll settle on some blisters and putting salonpas patches because they look cooler that way, thank u very much <3

jin yawns, talking about finding a steam iron somewhere to replace a blowdryer so he could break in his shoes

“you wipe the glass this time.”

oh right he absolutely hates wiping down the glass — even before opening!!! even when there aren’t any grubby kids that would soil it instantly with their equally as grubby hands

you don’t mind it honestly

you might honestly like it

you prefer wiping the glass a hundred times over than steaming clothes

there is nOT a single thought in your head when you spray on the solution to the glass, rag and squeegee tucked between your fingers when-

maybe you should’ve hOLY FUCKING SHIT

it’s not opening!!!! it is nOT nine o’clock in the morning!!!!

you know that the shop you’re working in is pretty fucking famous and it’s located on one of the most populated streets ever BUT THERE’S ALREADY SOMEONE

although the bucket hat seems familiar from a distance and-

oh it’s just yoongi

yoongi?

yoongi’s already here????

yoongi, the guy in question, is an always customer!!

no, not a regular customer — an always customer

he comes every week and maybe even twice within that period

he’s a nice talkative customer who likes asking questions and even occasionally guides the other customers on what to buy and where to find it

he’s yoongi!!! of course that’s expected of him

he’s been going here long since you ever started working here, and jin keeps iNSISTING that he’s been here more frequently since you started like a year ago

but doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?

“woah, yoongi’s already here? — doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?”

?!!?!!

“i was just thinking the exact same thing.”

jin bangs the glass with his fist and you automatically wince and frown

you dO like cleaning the glass panes!! you didn’t say you liked cleaning them a second time :(

“YOONGI!”

“YES??”

you push jin’s fist away to wipe at the smudge his hand left

“IT’S NOT OPENING YET!”

“I KNOW!!”

wow they’re uh

they’re really loud

sometimes you forget how seokjin could be since it’s been awhile since you heard him yell

lol no one’s been shoplifting recently so you haven’t been hearing him

a mind-blowing idea is for jin to come outside and talk to him in a normal talking voice, so your ears would stop ringing

“HEY! WHAT IF YOU JUST ENTER EARLY IN?”

“REALLY? IS THAT EVEN ALLOWED??”

"YOONGI, EVERYONE ON THE FLOOR KNOWS YOUR NAME. NAMJOON EVEN GAVE YOU A CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFT, AND WE DON'T GIVE CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFTS TO ANY OTHER CUSTOMER!!"

namjoon, who technically should be called mr. kim because no one really thinks to call the franchise owner with their government first name, is actually pretty cool

but he's too busy these days and haven't been visiting because he's too busy tending to his newly-opened coffee shop

as if the money he earns from opening his franchise in a day alone isn’t enough :0

"IF YOU SAY SO?"

you’re the one who hikes up the roll-up door in the slightest, enough for only yoongi to enter and not encourage anyone else to nOT enter when it’s still not opening time!!!!

he only has to crouch a little but he still has to dust his thousand-dollar pants as if he crawled through mud

his cream-colored slacks with a large black hoodie that has a giant bear embroidered on the middle of it and mules

... you don't hate his outfits

pretty cute, actually

it's yoongi!!

you'd never catch him lacking!!!

you don't even have to envision him rocking the shit out a paper bag

one time, he came in the store wearing the WRINKLIEST brown linen jumpsuit that no iron could possibly fix and he still pulled it off

toon-teen-ten!

oh god that’s the sound of the intercom

and the sound of the intercom equates to jungkook

... as in jeon jungkook who’s the floor manager and his constant top one goal for every month is to endearingly annoy seokjin

he’s young and mischievous!! but if you were to ask him, only you and jungkook are the people in this floor he’d actually get drinks with outside the shop

“seokjin come to the lingerie department right now, please.”

you see the thing is :D

“now this is just funny

there’s walkie-talkies for everyone here!! jungkook likes intercoms, and seokjin like yelling!!

“WHY ME AGAIN?? I’VE ALREADY FOLDED-“

“there’s a literal rat and i need yOU to catch it!! you know that i hate rodents!!”

him and jungkook are forever gonna be on this eldest-youngest brother dynamic and while jungkook pouts and shared the extras that he gets, jin is the one who kills the bugs :D

10/10 totally fair

fine then!! he’ll catch that goddamn rat

that leaves you and yoongi. alone.

“why did you come so early this time?”

you ask out of courtesy, genuinely baffled too because you know that yoongi’s a creature of habit

yoongi’s eyes pop out, head fervently shaking no

“i’m typically not the type to do that, no.”

???

is he-

are you-

are you both talking about the same thing

yoongi’s face flushes in embarrassment, his mind just then registering what you were actually saying

“o-oh! it’s because last night, i dreamt of the sweater i saw here last week!!"

oh right

typical :D

"need me to find it for you or do you already know the aisle?"

you align the folded shirts by the corners as you pass, looking at yoongi briefly while he trails behind yoh

“not unless you pulled it out already."

he's hoping that dear god you haven't

the black sweater with the moon aND buildings on it and when you turn on the flash, the windows of said building reflect it right back???

he SHUDDERS just by thinking about it

it’s gonna go with everything!!! an instant boost of serotonin every time he sees it

"for you, yoongi?" you shake your head, a small smile on your face that he only sees every once in a while, "i'd comb through the entire stock room."

wait

that’s sweet :((

“i’ll hold you to that.”

you know what??? you're less cranky when it's only him, and a couple of hundred people less

your smiles aren't for customer-service and you don't have misplaced clothes hanging from your shoulders and your walkie-talkie isn't talking in latin

or when no one’s asking you to reach something from the top shelf

or when you’re on the way to the intercom because a kid got separated from their mother

or when someone’s approaching for a refund for a shirt who has a stain that’s 100% no doubt customer error

his feet immediately move on its own because he’s memorized the outline of this too many times

there it is!!!

the sweater he’s dreamt about is already on his hands, only a handful few left

the piece is considerably more expensive than majority of the items here, so that’s why they’re all spaced-out instead of being clustered altogether

yoongi rarely goes to the dressing room, regardless if it's a full-house or not!!

he could just look at an item and immediately tell that it’s made for him ta know

he's beyond sure that this sweater fits him perfectly, but he may want to be here a little longer

yoongi may have say inside one of the fitting rooms and spent a little time in it just to sit on the chair inside, not fitting the sweater at all

he's gotten his item SO quick and he wished he could've just walked slower or pretended to not know where it was!!!

he wants to spend a little more time here

you don't hate yoongi!!! but sometimes he could just be... yoongi

he's quite talkative and strikes it whenever, making you unguarded

he could be overbearing but like an overbearing kind of nice

yoongi’s nice!! he’s the type to ask a lot of questions sure, but he’s also the type that would point the other customers what to buy and where to find it

he’s the type to find an obvious faulty stitch on a shirt, but he’d just quietly exchange it instead of asking for the manager

he’s the type you wouldn’t want to stand behind in line because it would take a long time for him to finish, but he’s also the same one who buys giftcards with generous amounts for family and friends

yoongi’s kind of cool and that’s cemented on your mind

"what do you got for me?"

he materializes out of nowhere, spooked because you thought he already ringed up and was out of the store already

it just happens to be ten minutes before opening and you’re doing last-minute arrangements on a new spread

well, yoongi most certainly is still here and his attention’s piqued

“we have... a new collection."

you clear your theory, awkwardly gesturing because you’re more than aware that yoongi hasn’t seen this either

“yeah, i know that. but like, what's going on??" he gestures to the displays and racks, squinting his eyes, "what's the theme? what's the material?"

uhm you haven't read the brief about this

you aren't even sURE if there is one!!

doesn't everyone make up something on the spot in retail

or atleast that’s what seokjin tells you

“the theme," you clear your throat, scratching your temple before gesturing towards the full rack, "is everything."

“everything?

yoongi’s eyebrow is raised, not expecting that answer at all

you look back to the new feature, and nOW that you think about it,, there's no cohesion at all

“y-yes. the shop was going for the theme of uhm, everything... all at once — yeah, that's it. everything all at once."

it’s a nice way to put it when not one bit of the new collection goes together

“hmmmm. i like it,” yoongi nods solemnly and tilts his head, “and the material?"

"the material?"

you repeat, eyesight not the best so you can’t really tell anything off the bat or uh aNYTHING really

"t-the material is shirt."

they're all shirts!!! that’s it

yoongi grimaces in disgust, the first time you’ve seen of it

“what?? you can't say that.”

he outsretches his hand to the nearest article, holding it up by the hanger

"this, right here, is satin. see how it shines like silk, but doesn't feel like silk?"

uhm yes

you have a gist of what he’s saying but yes

yoongi picks up a pink button shirt this time, flipping it inside out

"this, is silk charmeuse. look at the inside, is it smooth?"

okay where is he going with this

he urges you to put your hand on the fabric and uhhh you didn't sign up for this???

it looks smooth, sure!! end of discussion

"yea-..."

“it's not. it's rough. it is smooth, but it's dull. silk charmeuse is still silk, but the backing it has is different from the lustrous part."

okay yoongi

you’re starting to feel uncomfortable and it has to do something with the tone he’s using on you

“can't believe you didn't know that!! how about this," he plucks out a shirt with a tiny print at the middle of it, "cotton or polyester and rayon?"

"i don't-"

there’s an itch in your neck that you want to scratch, a tell-tale sign that you just wANT to remove yourself from this situation

“come on!! it's a dead giveaway!!"

:((

why is he being like this?

toon-teen-ten!

“y/n, panty section please. jin almost got bit by a mouse and he needs comforting. two minutes until opening, people!!"

jungkook speaks at the right moment, and jin’s little incident is enough of a reason for you to bolt

yoongi's still looking at you but you can't afford to embarrass yourself further

“bye. happy shopping."

huh?

yoongi’s face falls when you leave as cold as that!! typically when you were going to show him out (when it’s regular shop hours), there’d be a smile :((

there's not even a customer service smile :(((

yoongi goes to the only cashier that's open so far and it happens to be far away from you and a teary seokjin

seokjin's fine he didn't even get bit!! that much he could say

but are you okay? uhhh you kinda went cold on him by the end and he thought he started on a good note

yoongi doesn't visit for another week and you don't find yourself counting the days until you meet him again

you did not have a devil wears prada moment where anne hathaway has an epiphany for fashion knowledge

you just felt belittled at a job that isn’t exactly what you wanted anyways

needed, yes. but wanted? not exactly

you know that basic knowledge about clothes is required in a retail job like this and you have it!! you do!!!!

you’d know more if only there were actual available resources for employees to know!!! nobody besides yoongi asks anyways

you’d know if you have time to yourself and aren’t working two jobs trying to make ends meet and tHEN you could pull up a book or something!!!

you’d know if your life is as lax as yoongi’s and could have the budget to buy new things for yourself every single week

“jin, i need to ask you something.”

he hums as called, looking at you briefly until you get on with it

“do you know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse?"

he shrugs casually while you're sitting inside one of the closed-off fitting rooms to catch a break, sharing a burger because the store’s packed-packed

why did you ask him? it’s too easy

“one's made by worms, and the other's a pokémon."

that,.,., could not possibly be righti* it brings you a laugh and you honestly don’t even try to correct him

it’s 11:15 and you kNOW it’s time to resume your shift, straightening your shirt because atleast one (1) person would hound you when they see a familiar red lanyard

oh you’re hounded alright

“hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second.”

yoongi????

you haven’t seen him for a week and you don’t know what to feel in all honesty

"anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

wow

you're quite speechless as he holds up the item

really?

this thing all over again???

why are you even surprised

the only thing that yoongi gets your customer service smile, fishing your hand from inside the sweater to show him

“70% wool."

that's it???

NO GOOD MORNING????

you're mad at him, aren't you?

he knew it :((

he knew something was wrong but he just didn’t know what

he’s gonna fix this!! he will

which is why the very next day, he takes the day off from his work and comes to the store at a time he knows you’d surely be there

you're on cashier duty and you like it actually :D

you have an option to sit and the way you’re just gonna scan pricetags (and occasionally enter the code if it doesn’t work) is really appealing

“good morning!"

you’re about to grab the items from the basket laid on the counter and your eyes could only see the very familiar hand

the same one you’ve seen go through racks and racks

yoongi??

he sets his items one by one, buying himself more time

the first one is the same exact sweater he came to wait for before opening

“you already bought this."

you tell him even before you could hold it back, looking back at him briefly before you scan the tag

“i know. i just wanted to see you."

yoongi threw a bunch of other items (individually) so it would be a longer talk, but you scan each item quickly that he’s grabbing things from the counter

hand sanitizer!!! hair ties!!! keychains!!!! yeah he needs them

“i'm sorry that i tend to spring shit on you most of the time. you don't need to know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse."

you only chuckle then, a meek smile on your face

"it's okay, yoongi.”

“it's not."

... it’s not?

yoongi fidgets, opening and closing his mouth like he’s nervous!!! he’s never had his credit card cancelled but he could only feel that this type of jitterness is more than the former

“can i make it up to you? no lanyards, no baskets, no customer service?? i don't wanna fuck things up with you."

“don't feel obligated-"

“i know i could be a condescending ass who expects people to automatically know fabric and whatnot, but i wanna make it up to you."

alright yoongi’s a really good apology-maker

you mIGHT be even flustered a little

“you're holding the line, yoongi.”

“i cleared my schedule."

“i haven’t!!!!!” - guy in the back

“dinner at my place at 8. i-i promise to make your hard-earned break after your shift worthwhile!!!"

hmmm

maybe that wouldn’t hurt

“okay. just because you're holding the line."

“fine by me."

:))

yoongi transfers all the items he bought, all but one, to his tote bag

he hands back the paper bag to you, scribbling his address on the back of the receipt before he does

he lingers a little while at the counter, the people behind him ALREADY switching lanes to the one seokjin’s just opened beside you

it's the sweater that he has too

yoongi scratches the back of his head, this time being the meek one

“what? m-matching sweaters for our first date. s'cute."

#drabble week #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi imagines #yoongi oneshots #yoongi oneshot #yoongi drabble #yoongi drabbles #yoongi au #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi oneshot #min yoongi scenarios #yoongi headcanon #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

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shirophantomvox · 3 years

Text

“Exhausted” Hisoka x Female Reader

Hello anon! Thank you for this request! If you all did not know, I am celebrating my 100 follower goal! Click this link to view the prompts and rules. If you are interested, send me an ask and please note that this event will end on July 15th. Again, thank you for the feedback and awesome support. Let’s get into the story! I know I said I was going to start on Monday, but since I had some free time, I began today! FYI, the tumblr app needs to be updated. I cannot stand it that you cannot title your posts on the mobile app. Please fix this immediately, Tumblr.

Word Count: 1385

♠ ♣ ♠ ♣

“I wonder if I can make it to the doorstep without falling out…”

Waves of invisible heat floated in front and above your windshield as the radiation from the sun made it worse. To your luck, the air condition on your car had gone out and because of the horrific car insurance rates in Yorknew, it was almost impossible to get it fixed. The heat worked but the A/C did not. How stupid, right? The world has been engineered that to make a stable living you have to work for nearly 40-50 years and then retire but with how the country is right now, you may not see retirement. All of these intrusive thoughts caused your brows to press angrily against your eyes as the heat made you sweat more and more. Droplets of water dripped from your forehead while your underarms smelt like the insides of a man’s underwear. Life was beginning to drag. Mr. (m/n), your manager, had assigned you to interview several people in and outside of your neighborhood about switching to your car company and applying for discounted insurance. That’s odd. Why can’t you, the worker, have discounted insurance for the company you work for?

Working for 48 hours non-stop almost drove you insane. As you approached a familiar street, your eyelids began to close.

“Maybe if I close my eyes for a second, I will be able to make it inside…”

For a brief second, the thought of your incredible, quirky husband popped into your mind. His “Kiss the Cook” apron was tied firmly against his bare waist. Cooking without a shirt on was quite idiotic but he felt as if it freed him from being restricted. One time he surprised you on a night with just the apron on, exposing his bare behind. His red wavy hair would fall behind his ear and down the back of his neck. His bangs were slightly curled in front of his face. Without making a single sound, he’d scoop you into his arms, make growling noises, and playfully throw you in the bed. A slight blush was painted on his freckled cheeks. This was his idea of being passionate, as every man has their own definition of the word. The sound of his deep, soothing voice made you smile indescribably.

“Ah, y/n! How was work, my dear-♠?”

There have been several instances where you have been exhausted but burdening your husband was something you didn’t want to partake in but still he wouldn’t mind if you had to vent for an hour or two. A loud blaring horn tore you from your 1 second day dream. A turning car was almost hit as you reached the intersection.

“Watch it, asshole!”

Well, now it's time to speed home.

It felt like the gray cloud over your head would not ever disappear until you pulled into your driveway. The grass had been freshly cut, flowers were being watered by the sprinkler, and the arch way of the front door had been painted. The sight of your wonderful lawn placed a large smile on your face. Taking a break from such a terrible week from work was needed and to see that you didn’t have to do any work around the house made you feel better. Before you could touch the front of the door, it flew open and you fell. Thank God you were caught by a pair of long, freckled arms because if you hadn’t, the tiles would have left many nasty marks on your face.

Your face was smothered in between his pecs. This was a normal occurrence. Since no one was in the house, he’d often walk around in his boxers cleaning, planting, or whatever he felt like doing. He placed his rather large hands under your arms and lifted you straight up so you could look him in the eye. His left thumb gently gripped your chin, his index finger underneath it.

“Welcome home, kitten. You seem to be tired-♠.”

Your eyelids began to flutter again as sleep was the only thing on your mind. Breaking away from his grasp, you placed your laptop bag on the couch and proceeded to the kitchen. Hisoka was silent for a second, puzzled as to why you did not give him a kiss. That was very unusual for you. He came running behind you like a lost puppy with his hands out ready to grab your shoulder.

“Is something the matter, y/n-♠?”

Slowly turning around, you sigh and fake a smile. Your eyes were still closed and the gray cloud seemed to reappear. Hisoka began to walk forward and sat down on your shared bed. Hiding your true feelings is a luxury you could not afford. Prepared or not, it was time Hisoka knew how you truly felt. At times he could be as stubborn as a mule but there were times where he was more endearing and understanding. Hisoka, again, placed his left thumb on your chin, a few inches from your lips, and looked deep into your weary eyes.

“Honestly, I am very tired. I’m exhausted. I think I am going to sleep for the rest of the day if you don’t mind.”

Hisoka smiled somberly. He had planned on going to the city's carnival with you but he’d have to miss out this time around. He didn’t want to go alone because he did not want to deal with fangirls and boys screaming and worshipping his godly figure. Although it fed his ego, he rather not deal with people who couldn’t take a hint.

The sweat from your face ruined your makeup. The mascara began to drip, you could see patches of your natural skin tone look much different than your foundation, and your lipstick was a little misplaced. Noticing Hisoka’s sad smile, you frowned.

“You see? I’ve made him sad,” you thought.

“Hisoka, I’m sorry for upsetting you with my troubles.”

Hisoka scoffed at your reaching assumption. He was a man that went through much worse pain than a little complaint nonetheless from the woman he loved.

“I’m not upset. Not in the slightest.-♠”

“Well, why do you look so disappointed?”

Hisoka smiled his usual smile while turning his head slightly to the left. He chuckled at your obliviousness. He took his right hand and placed it behind your neck. His piercing golden eyes nearly tore a hole in your soul. With the combination of his beautiful eyes, extended pecs, shaped torso, and smooth voice, you were destined to melt into your bed finally being able to sleep next to this hunk of a man. His long eyelashes batted a few times as he began to answer your question.

“How could you walk in here without giving me some sugar-♠?” His voice sent chills down your spine, causing you to voice a shiver involuntarily.

Your eyelids shot open and nearly squirmed when your eyes met his. For some reason, you stumbled to answer but managed to eventually mutter out a response.

“I-I’m sorry. I am so tired and I almost got into a c—-“

Hisoka’s lips crashed against yours. His moist lips positioned themselves in a way that if you kept yours straight, it would fit in perfectly. His right hand was placed on your lower cheek and jaw lifting your head just a tad more. His nose brushed against yours, causing you to smile just a little. Then again, Hisoka was so concerned about kissing you that he didn’t bother with asking what made you so tired and unhappy. He always thought physical contact would take your mind off of what was bothering you and it did temporarily but not entirely. Venting is what you needed and then maybe a kissing session would end the night off better. Breaking away, he looked into your eyes one more time before standing you up and proceeding to the kitchen.

“Now I have a question for you. What has been bothering you? I have all the time in the world-♠.”

-Fin

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orangeskiesandshinyeyes · 3 years

Text

Skz reaction to you being a little too loud during sex

Bangchan

Thrusting into you from behind he'd momentarily slow down to do a double take.

Mmm. You good there? He asks a little hint of a chuckle in his voice.

When you try your best to reply he'd slowly knead your ass to get you to quiet down so the others don't wake up and things get awkward the next day.

That won't help at all though and you'd end up moaning even louder causing him to grab your torso and pull you up with him.

Moving his hand in front of you to cover your mouth, he'd hush into your ear.

Baby, quiet down. You're gonna wake them up at this rate.

Nodding at this he'd resume his pace only quicker to help you reach your high faster since he knows you're too blissed out to be quiet. So why not help you reach there faster? Also not to mention he's going to reach his high any second now thanks to your cries.

Leeknow

Groaning and grunting into your ears, he'd be just as much of a mess as you. It was 12pm on an off day and some of the boys were still around in the dorm. Does he care though? Not in the slightest. As long as it weren't the youngest ones he wouldn't mind.

The afternoon light filtering into the bedroom highlighting each and every feature on the two of you would make it impossible to prevent the moans that were coming out.

One particularly loud moan from him would cause you to let out the most pornographic moan you could manage and that would make him laugh at you snapping him out of his sex daze momentarily. Wouldn't take long for him to climax after that. Once you're there too, he'd leave the room to get some snack to energise you again.

And seeing Changbin smirk at him when he steps out, he'd smirk right back and even give him a wink.

Changbin

He'd rarely do it in the dorm to be honest. And if you do end up doing it there he'd go above and beyond to make sure nobody hears what's supposed to be reaching only his ears. Maybe bring a speaker in and play a loud movie to hide any sounds of pleasure leaving the room. The boys would see right through it though.

But if it were just the two of you in your comfort space, things would get much more intense if you were a bit louder than usual. He'd smirk smile at this and grab you closer pushing his face into your neck and kissing it. You'd definitely have a hickey to remind you of the moment you let your control go so you could look at it and remember later.

Hyunjin

He'd be a moaning mess too. High pitched whines leaving his lips eveytime he felt a certain way while moving in and out of you. Wouldn't want anybody hearing you though. And chances are he'd end up moaning louder to hide your moans which wouldn't even be that loud in the first place. But God forbid anybody hears his precious little lady's cries of pleasure. Doesn't matter if they hear his fake porn moans though.

And when you slap his arm to laugh at him he'd look down at you seriously and say 'I'm sure nobody heard that' and you'd continue.

But the weird laugh Jisung lets out when you leave the room would be confirmation enough for him that he was infact heard. He might be shy about it for a second before going for another round when you came back into the room.

He'd also be the type to keep begging you to be louder. If you guys were alone, that is. He'd almost beg in your ears to scream his name.

'Please baby, let me hear more. Are you gonna scream my name? Hmm?' He desperately wants to hear you absolutely wrecked underneath him so he can have the pride of being the one doing the wrecking. And your moans and cries do wonders on him and he knows it. So everytime you guys are alone and things reach the point of sex, he'd make you feel so good that you'd end up crying and screaming his name.

Jisung

He wouldn't be able to prevent himself from being too loud while having sex so he would try to be in a comfortable setting if you guys were to do it.

He loves seeing how you react to him. He can get lost in the feeling once it gets too heated but when he still has his sanity, he loves and absolutely relishes in the ways you react to him.

And if you were to be loud for him and you naturally aren't on the loud side, he would be a grinning mess. He'd hide his face in your neck to prevent you from feeling awkward but you can feel him smile into your neck. And he would definitely do whatever it was he did to make you moan a thousand times again to hear more of you.

Felix

Felix does not give two shits what you do. When it comes to you, you are his queen and he absolutely loves whatever you do. If you moan out loud during sex, he'd praise you. If you whine, he'd kiss you. He'd let himself get lost in the feeling eventually. He'd be focused on making you feel insanely good but he'd also start slipping once things get very intense. And when you get loud he'd subconsciously mirror whatever noise you made as he starts slipping more and more into his high.

Seungmin

Dandy boy on the outside, dandy boy on the inside.

He'd be the shy type. Especially if you're older than him. He'd treat you with a lot of respect but he wouldn't be the type to let it get in the way of your relationship. Would never ever ever do it with people around so even if you were loud, he'd never have to worry about it. Seungmin has a lot of self control so he would 100% be focused on every single noise and movement you made to see and imprint everything into his brain. He has control but he's still a guy with hormones so he would slip up eventually. And if it were one of the days where he's letting himself go then, Oh My God.

He'd be far gone without even realising it that when you accidentally scream his name out at some point he would be taken back at this. He'd jerk into you so hard that the both of you would climax right then and there and you'd be panting for breath for a good hour after that.

Not writing for the baby

#skz smut #stray kids #straykids smut #straykids imagines #straykids reactions #kpop smut #han smut #seungmin smut #lee know #chan smut #felix smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut

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emwritesstuff · 3 years

Text

as the world caves in | ch. 9 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes: thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter. I'm dropping this lil shortie so we can get the story moving. Let's go! (warnings: lil' fluff, lil' angst) (word count: 3K) nine: records

Bucky knocked on your door a few weeks later.

It was late, and you were snug in your pajamas, winding down after a long day. With your identity no longer a secret, the government was in the midst of transferring you to something more… hands-on, and definitely less diplomatic, you were assuming; so much for retirement, but you figured 30 years of it had been more time than you could’ve anticipated.

You almost didn’t hear the soft rapping on wood over Vera Lynn’s mellow singing.

When you finally opened it, you found him standing there, wearing tired eyes and a dark coat. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I started walking and I—"

“When I said you’re welcome anytime, Bucky Barnes, I meant any time.”

A tiny fraction of a smile was offered your way, and you grasped it tight against your heart at the same time you do his hand, pulling him inside.

His fingers lingered on yours, but before you could start thinking about it he pulled away, taking a seat at the edge of your couch. “I finished it. The book.”

Bucky answered your question before you could ask it. “I just came from there. The last one– the last name.”

“Well. Are you alright?” You sat next to him, your knee knocking against his, and his gaze went from the floor, to the spot where your legs touched, and then to you. He knitted his eyebrows, seeming a little incredulous you were even asking.

“I will be.” His hands intertwined on the space between his knees, and you placed a hand ton his shoulder, getting him to look at you again.

“Yes, you will. Do you want to talk about it?”

One corner of Bucky’s lip raised up, and he shook his head. “Is that Vera Lynn?”

You smiled, turning to look at your record player as if Vera herself was sitting next to it. “It is. Takes me back, I guess.”

“It’s all we’d listen to at the front.”

Nodding, you wondered for a second if Bucky remembered dancing to We’ll Meet Again the night before he was shipped off. Even if you weren’t the only girl he had danced with then, you still asked yourself if that memory was burned on his mind as it was on yours.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when. A short-term promise, made back then by hopeful lovers, friends, family members; you had no idea that those lyrics would prove themselves so literal when you and Bucky mouthed them at each other in the middle of a dancefloor.

You let out a breathy chuckle, standing up and beckoning him to where you kept the rest of your vinyl. “Come on. Vera’s starting to feel a little too nostalgic to me.”

Your record collection was pretty extensive, ranging from things of the good ol’ days from the special editions that were still being released nowadays. Bucky joined you on the floor, and together you started to make your way through decades eternized in discs.

“Marvin Gaye.”

You look up from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, finding Bucky making a face at the album he was holding. “It’s really good. Do you want to—”

“No. No more Marvin Gaye.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t like him?”

“I like Marvin Gaye! Jesus. Marvin is good—Marvin’s jus’ fine,” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and you finally understood.

“Sam’s been preaching you the word of R&B to you too, huh?”

You giggled at the tired look he gave you and silently took Trouble Man out of his hands, stuffing it back with the rest of the 1970’s.

Years ago, Bucky would be delighted to dive headfirst in the new – your trips to countless science fairs and expositions were enough proof of that – but looking at him now, knowing him as you were starting to once again, you figured that just a dip of the toes was more than enough.

You pulled Frank Sinatra from the 1950’s section.

“I know Sinatra.”

“Do you now?”

You put the record on your player, and Vera Lynn’s longing gave way to Sinatra’s swagger and jazz.

“Do you?” Bucky teased, frowning at the most recent items in your collection. As soon as Frank’s voice filled the silence, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

“I do know him! Or did. Met ‘im in 1962.” You plopped next to Bucky, who was shaking his head. “What?”

“Show off.”

“No, just been around. Met people on the way. And, you asked.” Your smirk grew into a grin as Bucky mouthed your words back at you. Then his face fell for a second, and your amusement was quickly replaced by worry. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I guess – I guess I just missed a lot.” The same way one of the corners of his lips tug on his cheek again in his attempt of a smile, melancholy tugs at your heartstrings. “I missed out on everything. And I missed out on you.”

Bucky’s head was low as he spoke and you could see the tremble of his hands, even though he clutched one of your records tightly. Nina Simone, 1960’s.

“M’not going anywhere, you know.”

“You still lived an entire lifetime—”

“I did, yes, thank you for constantly reminding me that I’m over 100 years old.” You shook your head at him, sighing softly when he chuckled.

You couldn’t blame him, for clinging to every bit of past he’d missed while he was in HYDRA’s clutches – you knew that was inevitable, but you wished that such sorrow wasn’t so related to you.

“What are you doin’?” He asked as you summoned a small stool from the side of your shelf and stepped on it.

“I want to show you somethin’.” The thing you were looking for was stored at the very top: a heavy, brown leather suitcase that almost made you lose your balance when you pulled it from the spot it had been sitting in for—honestly, years, many of them.

The contents of the suitcase rattled as you climbed down and sat next to Bucky again. Sinatra still playing, telling his lover I've got you under my skin, I've got you, deep in the heart of me;

You almost laughed from the truth and irony of it.

I'd tried so, not to give in

I said to myself this affair never will go so well

You unlocked the suitcase, revealing the gathered memories inside. Pictures, movie tickets, theater playbooks, receipts, trinkets. All souvenirs of the 80 something years of your life Bucky hadn’t been there to see.

Not organized in the slightest, the keepsakes of your life were tossed together and out of order just as in your memory: photographs of you in uniform, and sometimes in party dresses; of when you bought your house; of the few times you had pets. Posing next to famous people and other important ones whose names weren’t as well known by the world.

As you and Bucky went through each of them, you added a story or an explanation, sometimes both, to fill him in on the details of your life events. He laughed at some, frowned at a lot, stared at you intently for all of them.

“Is this Berlin?”

You hummed, nodding. “1989. That party was great.”

“Party?” Bucky knitted his eyebrows in surprise.

“The city was unified, the wall was being taken down, and everyone was celebrating. I’ve never seen that many bottles of vodka in one place.” You laughed, taking a good look at yourself in the picture.

The 80’s were definitely not your best decade, looks wise. You had tried a perm the year before, and the poodle look was only then starting to dial down. The beginnings of a bruise were starting to creep on your left eye, from the mission you had completed just a few hours before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk.”

Bucky’s surprise intensified, his eyes wide. “We can’t get drunk.”

“Yes we can.”

“No, no we can’t.”

“We can, in fact. It’s all a matter of quantity and, well, speed.” You giggled as Bucky’s mouth gaped more.

“And the hangover?”

“Horrible. Like getting shot on the forehead. Comes quickly, too.”

He grimaced, and with one last look – certainly to register your peculiar appearance on his mind – gently put the picture back inside the suitcase. A stack of papers seemed to call out to him and he picked it up, releasing them from the band that held them together carefully.

Postcards of the places you’ve been: a small note to James Barnes and Steve Rogers on the back of each one.

Bucky’s voice faltered. He let out an anguished little sound, probably something that was supposed to be an Oh, or a What, but had no strength to crawl up his throat.

You brought your knees to your chest as you waited for him.

“You—you wrote to us?”

“I did. You can keep those, they’re addressed to you.”

After all this time, you could barely remember the words you wrote in those postcards; all you knew was that some had longer messages, others a simple Wish you were here.

“After we met in Baltimore, I thought that— that you’d have moved on from us.”

From me.

As if that was possible.

“Well, I stopped writing by 2003, give or take. But really,” You sighed. “It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve always been expecting them to come back to you.”

Bucky flipped the postcard from Rome, read the writing and smiled wistfully at it. “And, I did.”

“You did. And staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but—”

“But you’re annoyingly stubborn.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed when he smirked. “I mean, I get it – If the roles were reversed, I’d leave you rebuild your life without me like a self-sacrificing idiot too.”

Alright. That was fair.

Shaking your head, you watched as he slipped the postcards in his pocket, an amused expression on his face.

“That was… a big mistake. Something a self-sacrificing idiot would do,” You screwed your eyes shut in shame, opening them when Bucky chuckled. “but now, I’m right here. And so are you.”

His stubble scratched the soft skin of your palm when you reached for him, and you continued. “We’re a little out of place in this century, that much is true, but if I’m being honest… I’m getting tired of yearning for the past, Buck.”

Good old times – sometimes really good, sometimes bad, every one of them old – tucked away in your heart like your records were tucked in neatly in their shelf, organized by year. As you went through the decades, your enhanced body eternizing you like marble, your heart seemingly stayed at that army camp overseas. Or maybe Sergeant Bucky Barnes had taken it with him, only for them to be frozen together, leaving you with an empty hole in your chest.

You lived your life longing for that missing piece, the one with blue eyes and the dashing smile and the skilled feet.

The one that in many other stories was the one that got away, the one who now believed he was somebody else, but had brought your heart back with him all the same.

The very heart that nearly leapt out of your chest when Bucky rested his forehead against yours.

You’ve never been this close – there isn’t an ounce of past in the gesture. His eyes being tightly closed kept him from seeing the surprise on your eyes and then how they fell to his lips for a millisecond. Then, those lips brushed against yours in a featherlike touch.

I would sacrifice anything, come what might

For the sake of having you near

He pried himself off you when you exhaled, as if your very breath had electrocuted him.

“M’sorry. I—I didn’t—” He said as you stared at the back of his neck, and the shock gives way to disappointment.

I didn’t mean to. Or maybe: I didn’t want to.

“That’s—it’s okay.” You clapped your hands on your knees, still feeling the prickle of his facial hair on them, and got up to change the music.

There was no doubt Bucky was touch starved, and that he probably craved the closeness that comes with a lover. He sought that for a fleeting second in Sam’s sister, and now in you. No point in dwelling on what it might have meant.

Right?

Looking at Bucky, his expression was overcast, furrowed eyebrows as he watched you from his spot on the floor. You offered him a gentle smile, and the crease on his forehead eased up slightly.

Right.

Don't you know little fool, you never can win

The record player made a scratching sound as you replaced Frank Sinatra with your go-to jazz compilation. Instrumental.

No lyrics.

There was one thing you’ve always been good at, regarding the infatuation with Bucky Barnes that has taken over your heart for almost a century now: locking the feelings away and stepping into the shoes of the best friend.

Besides, you’ve said it yourself: no more yearning for the past. Hopefully you and Bucky would be able to do that soon enough.

At that moment, however, you needed to feel the burn of whiskey down your throat and pretend it’ll heal the calcinating rejection spreading through your chest.

The guilt you found in Bucky’s eyes as he watched you sweep around your hardwood floors made you pour a glass for him.

He took it gratefully, frowning when you bottomed the whole thing up.

“There’s a lot in here.” He tapped the edge of the suitcase, skillfully steering the conversation in the direction of the more palatable, calm territory it was in before.

The sight of your autobiographical collection made you smile.

“An entire lifetime,” You said, fishing your dog tags from the bottom. “I suppose that’s where it started. Or at least, where thisstarted.”

Bucky took them reverentially, running his thumb over the imprint of your name and numbers.

He reached for his neck, producing from under his Henley the same type of metal chain he was holding in his hands. The fact that he still wore his like that sent a sharp blow to your lungs, almost knocking the air out of you.

His face softened, a smile so beautiful spreading across his lips, so much that your chest clenched in protest because it was simply not fair, how he still had you entirely.

He deposited both of your dog tags in your hands, and that’s when you saw it, and remembered it.

“Won’t we get in trouble for this?”

“Do you care?”

“Well…No.” You sighed, already resigned. And a little excited.

Bucky knew you well: it had been too long of being a good little soldier when all you were used to was the rush of being a hellion.

“And that is why, sugar, that I’m doing this with you, and not with Steve.”

The words made your heart soar, but you were sure to recapture it before it could fly away too high, still too attached to the sensation of the take-off to clip its wings.

You liked flying.

“And because Steve hasn’t been successful in his enlisting efforts. Yet.”

Bucky looked at you from behind his eyebrows, a reprimand hiding in his eyes, but he decided to shove his uniform hat on your head instead. You grumbled, calling him a jerk under your breath.

It was the night before Bucky was drafted to England. He looked handsome in his uniform, a shining, polished star, brighter than the sun even under the dim streetlight you two stood under.

After bringing his and Steve’s dates home (yours was lost to another boxing match along the way – not that you were crying about that) Bucky had decided he was going to stay up all night, because, in his words, he could sleep when the war was over. Or, more realistically, in the ship on the way to England.

So there you two were, illuminated by street lamps and moonlight, visiting the façades and front windows of your favorite places in Brooklyn like drifters in the night.

Bucky still concentrated on his task, his shoulder hunched slightly to block your sight.

“Let me see! Bucky!”

“ ’Sposed to be a surprise! I’m almost done.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like I haven’t seen ‘em before.”

“You gotta be more patient. Here.”

He dropped your dog tags on your hand. You displayed the small steel plates on your palm, scanning your eyes over the two. One of them, of course, had your name, number, blood type, next of kin – an aunt you’ve never met – and address.

The other had Bucky’s.

James B Barnes. 32557038.

He slipped his own chain over his head, the plate with your name clinking against his.

You brought the tips of your fingers to your lips, feeling a smile begin to form onto them.

“I forgot we did this. I haven’t looked at these in so long.”

You had stopped wearing your dog tags the day the war had ended – Bucky was gone then, Steve too, and the weight of his dog tags slamming against your chest was too much to bear – your heart was already heavy with its own engraving of their memories.

“Steve had a lecture prepared when he gave mine back.” Bucky chuckled when you looked up at him, incredulous.

You shook your head, half exasperated and half amused. “Good grief, Steve.”

“Y’know how he is. Was,” He trailed, lips twitching as they formed a thin line.

You reached for him, your hand hovering in the space between you for a second before Bucky took it, lacing your fingers. Scooting closer, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder.

“He’d be glad we’re reunited.” You said, raising your head to peek at him and the newfound upwards curl of his lip. “And mortified we’re still bickering.”

Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Old people. Old habits.”

Laughter bubbled out of your chest, and you realized a few things.

In that moment, it didn’t matter – the heartache, the unrequited side of your love. It was just a fact, a fact of life, of your life, that you a lot of the times loved him as more than your best friend. You loved him. And that was the core of it, the most important fact.

And you knew he loved you – you had each other – in this big, ever-changing, modern world, you had Bucky and Bucky had you.

You sat in comfortable, familiar silence until your eyelids grew heavy and you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.

“You dozin’ on me, sugar?”

“It’s been a long day.” You said with your eyes still closed, feeling him chuckle beside you.

“Tell me about it. I can go—”

“You know damn well you should stay.” You patted his arm and hoisted yourself up from the floor. “I’ll get the pull-up ready for you.”

As you sauntered towards the office, ignoring his pleads and protests that he’s got it, he doesn’t need sheets or anything, you put your dog tags back on.

They jingled lightly against your heart.

Maybe you didn’t have to leave all of the past behind to start building something good and new, after all.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes imagine

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burntmcnuggies · 3 years

Text

My Sweet Love

Dabi x Sweet Reader

Request: Hey!💗Сan I, please, have a girlfriend for Dabi who likes sweets? Candy, cakes, berries, stuff like that. And she always leaves some sweets for Dabi, because she knows that he will come to her apartment, even if she is not at home. And basically she leaves quite a lot of food for him. Thank you💗

warnings: none, just a fluffy story with a bit of angst at the end inspired by the latest manga chapters! Also my apologies for making it a bit angsty, I was in a mood haha

Word Count: 2.8K

There they were again.

The endless amount of sweets stacked upon the kitchen table for the flame-quirked villain.

Why you left so many sweets out for him was beyond his own comprehension. He couldn't even understand why you weren't a human cupcake by now with how many sweets you’d been leaving him lately. He's seen those videos you’ve shown him of 'is it cake?' and sadly watched people stab each other with forks or some other stupid shit. He's warned you before that if you ever approached him with a fork, he would burn you to a crisp. A sigh escaped his soft and wrinkly lips once he noticed there wasn't any real food around for him. The ebony-haired villain approached the pile of sweets for him, carefully picking up the small little note beside it, cringing at the silly nickname he loved but hated at the same time.

'Hey dabeebee! I left you some sweets because you are the sweetest thing in my life! :3 I know you'll probably complain looking for real food, I have hidden all of it outside just for you! If you want soba I left a pot out on the stove for you to use and put some water in it.

I love you so much dabeebee! <3

~(Y/N) : )

"Cheesy little shit..." He mumbled, searching around for some cheap booze. Of course, you had none in your possession, judging by you were only 21 and an innocent cautious adult. He sighed and finally stumbled upon a pack of instant ramen, forgetting the pot for soba on the stove deeming it too much work. He put it in the microwave and heated it up, watching the little plastic cup spin around. He took it out and slurped the noodles in the cup, savoring the flavor in his mouth. The heated food made his whole body slump in relaxation. Working for the league was tiring, and he’d lazily complained multiple times to you about it. He’d groan Shigaraki was being a spoiled little child, and get angry when he was forced to work with Geten. Ever since he came to you after their first battle, he had despised the ice-user.

Winter was when he became the most sensitive. Emotionally.

For whatever reason the villain would come visit you more often in the winter, struggling to concentrate whenever he was with you. It was like his mind was somewhere else, somewhere that made him sad. Hot cocoa always cheered him up in the slightest, something warm to melt the ice slowly starting to grow around his heart. Every time he saw you though, it all melted already, your soft voice and gentle touches taking away his pain. You were too sweet. “Stupid idiot...” He mumbled and finished his little cup of instant ramen. He strolled lazily up the stairs, a blank look on his face as he approached the door to your room. He stopped in front of the door and looked inside, pleased with the sight of you sleeping peacefully, unaware of his presence.

He stared at blankly, not a single thought running through his head as he began to shed his blemished jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Next came his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal more of the scarred flesh everyone always claimed to be disgusting. He easily removed his boots and pants, only left in his boxers. Pulling the covers back slightly, he eased himself into bed beside you, turquoise eyes burning holes into your slumbering form. His hand reached out towards your face, gently caressing it with what little was left of his humanity instead of scarred dead skin. “I hate you.” He whispered, not even bothering to speak the words he knew you already knew. A smile graced your lips feeling his touch, instantly knowing it was your lover due to the warmth radiating off of him.

His unspoken words lingered in the air as he pulled you closer towards him, refusing to let you go.

‘I hate you, because I love you so much.’

——

When you woke up and found Dabi in your bed, you couldn’t help but smile ear to ear seeing your handsome boyfriend snuggled against you. He barely got any good sleep, so you wanted him to sleep as long as he could. He was a light sleeper, like extremely light. He briefly mentioned something in his past always kept him alert and on edge, having problems with insomnia and pain. You weren’t stupid. You knew the aspect of Dabi’s powerful quirk, and how much spreads through his body when he over uses his terrifying flames. Carefully easing yourself out of bed, kissing his head very very softly, you tip-toed down to the kitchen to see if Dabi had eaten any of your little experiments.

They were all sadly still there.

“Damnit! If he doesn’t eat something then I won’t know what to get him for his birthday... it’s in a couple days...” You announced to yourself, sighing heavily. It was true, putting the candy out was to get Dabi to reveal what kind of candy he liked, or flavor of cake, anything to give you the slightest hint on what he would enjoy! That was why you hid the food, you were hoping he would settle and eat what he wanted to. That wasn’t the case. “Tonight I’ll put some cake slices out and label them... maybe then! Maybe then he’ll choose one!” A sweet smile spread across your lips, putting all the candy away and putting all the normal food back. All the while unaware of a pair of ears that had been listening the whole time.

——

Dabi left early that morning, going off to do some villainous work before he approached your house in the middle of the night. It was around at least 2am when he arrived. His body ached, skin burning and smoking. Today had been especially rough, but the cool air that gently blew against his hot skin made him feel better. But the aching in his heart made him feel all the more hot with rage and anger. His memories plagued his mind briefly before he remembered what laid waiting for him at your house. That’s right. It was his birthday in a couple days. And the extremeness of your efforts was to figure out once and for all what his favorite sweet was. He just wasn’t a fan of sweets and preferred spicy foods.

“That idiot. Always such a hassle. Possibly worse than that crusty bastard.” He mumbled to himself, rubbing his scarred up neck gently. He didn’t understand himself how he could love someone who’s blood was probably 100% sugar and had a personality sweeter than that. He found your spare key easily, slipping the key into the lock and letting himself inside. As per usual, there were sweets on the table, cake to be exact. There were 5 different slices laid out, each labeled. He approached the neatly cut slices, bright pink flowery post it notes under them.

Vanilla! :D

Chocolate! :D

Red Velvet! :D

Lemon! :D

Cheesecake! :D

‘Good morning Dabeebee! :3

I’m sure it’s like past 1am or 2 or something, so good morning! I hope your day was okay <3 I missed you! I didn’t hide the food this time because you still found it last time! >:( But please try these cake slices! I made them all myself! I loooooove you! >///<

~(Y/N) :)

The dark haired villain rolled his eyes, sighing heavily as he shrugged off his heavy navy coat. He hung it up lazily so he wouldn’t make a mess or wake you and crossed his arms staring at the slices. His turquoise eyes observed each slice, lips set in a firm line as he thought about the textures and icing. His calloused hands grabbed onto the metal of a fork, hoping it wouldn’t melt at the heat his body was still emitting from his hard “work” of the day. A bite of each would be sure to satisfy you right? He dove the fork into the first slice, chocolate, and carefully placed the spongy sweet into his mouth. He recoiled. ‘It’s too sweet.’

As Dabi continued trying the sweets, the vanilla/yellow cake was probably his favorite, but he still didn’t want a cake. He didn’t really want anything for his birthday. Well, maybe to be dead, but that seemed unrealistic now. He sat down on the couch, mind now becoming hazy and foggy with depressing thoughts. His hands clasped together, blunt nails slowly digging into the top parts of his hands that weren’t scarred. The stables began to burn, almost like the first time they were in. His hands grew shaky, eyes blankly staring at the ground in a horrific daze. He didn’t even notice the way his breathing had turned unstable. The scars increased in heat, even though there were no more flames there to hurt him. His hazy eyes cast upwards and his whole entire world almost shattered.

The villain shot up and punched the TV in front of him as hard as he could, beating the screen senseless, panicking as he tried to rid his brain of the reflection that glared back at him. The mere sight and thought of red flames coming near him made his stomach sick with anxiety and fear, especially in the safety of your home. His eyes began to burn with tears, but sadly his tear ducts burned almost with his sanity a long time ago. His fists became bloody and bruised, body becoming numb to the sound of his name being called loudly. As soon as a hand made contact with his arm, he jerked around and swung at whatever had touched him, fearing the worst. That was when his heart shattered, eyes wide in fear once he realized he had just knocked you down to the floor.

“(Y/N)? Ah, shit.” He quickly kneeled down beside you and raised his shaky hands, scared to even touch you. There was a large mark on the side of your cheek, tears already built up in your eyes. Dabi’s chest heaved in and out heavily, eyes burning hard as blood leaked from under his stapled skin. Choked and held in sobs racked through his body like thunder. It hurt so much, it hurt that he couldn’t cry, it hurt to have a constant reminder of his past, reminders of his failure, and it hurt to know that he was unwanted and incapable of being loved by another human being. People saw him as a monster, a freak with no heart.

“You’ve failed me as a son, it’d been better if you weren’t even born.”

He let out a loud cry for help, even though the words never came from his mouth, the simple scream of pain was enough to convey his silent plea. His heart, his eyes, his skin, his stomach, his head, his chest, his lungs, everything hurt, a pain he couldn’t handle by himself. “FUCK!!” He shouted, blood dripping onto the floor with the crack of his broken voice. His whole body recoiled and flinched once he felt your soft hands gently caressing his scarred forearm. Why weren’t you leaving? Why weren’t you yelling at him? Why didn’t you hit him back? Why did you take his small abuse so quietly just like he did? Why were you just silently comforting him in the smallest way? “(Y/N)-“

“Shh, it’s okay now Dabi.” He flinched at your voice, firm yet soft, unwavering, no fear or disgust present at all. Just a loving tone for your significant other. Your hands gently pushed his forearms away from him, and you pulled him Into a tight hug, head buried into his neck. “There’s no need to cry, or fear anything... I’m here, Dabi... it’s okay... I’ve got you, honey.” His eyes widened at your sugary words, comforting him even though he’d just hit you. He inhaled your scent, shaking hands slowly resting against your back, squeezing you close with blood still dripping from his scarred cheeks. “Shh... there, there sweetheart, I’ve got you, and I’m never going to let you go okay...? I love you, Dabeebee.”

Love.

Such a big word you throw around so carelessly with him. Hearing such words always made him feel warm and happy inside. Something he missed out on, and had never experienced until he met you. Your poor excuse to cheer him up worked only a little, when he mumbled out an insult. “You’re so fuckin’ stupid you know that? I’m honestly shocked you’re still alive and I haven’t incinerated you yet...” His meaningless insults warmed your heart, your Dabi was slowly coming back. You ignored the harsh stinging of your cheek and focused solely on Dabi, and making him feel better. His breathing was slowly calming down, sniffling and wiping the blood that leaked from his abused burnt up tear ducts. “Do you feel better, Dabeebee?”

“What a stupid question to ask.” He mumbled and pulled away, composing himself briefly before he stared at you longingly. His beautiful turquoise eyes linger to your cheek stained red and he felt his heart break all over again. “Fuck, I’m... fuck I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” Now that was a rare sight to see, the Dabi apologizing to you? The man who swore to take out the super human society, the man who taunts heroes and kills, apologizing to you? A lowly civilian with a mediocre quirk not good enough to be recognized by society. “This isn’t like you, Dabi... what’s wrong my love? Does it have something to do with your birthday?” He didn’t reply, turquoise eyes just staring down at the floor with a dull gleam. It answered your question as you continued. “I’m sorry... you should’ve told me.”

“Shut up you sweet-loving psycho. It happens every year... this year’s just especially worse.” The villain lowly mumbled as he embraced you. The house was silent for a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the wind rustling outside and the heater turning back and forth. He finally spoke up after his racing heart had calmed. “...I promise, I’ll tell you everything one day. Now isn’t the right time.” That sent a small pang to your heart, after 2 years of dating and he still didn’t open up to you about his past. But god did you still love him with all of your heart. He slowly pulled his blood soaked face away from you, touching the streaks of irony red that flowed from his patchy purple scars. The next thing you knew his eyes were locked with yours, staring intently as if you were the only thing in the world to him. “Just know I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll burn them alive and see them in hell to kick their ass again. You’re... the first person to ever see me this vulnerable. Be lucky.”

You smiled. “That’s my Dabi...” Once your lips locked gently with his, the night faded away. Dabi held you tightly in his arms, not wanting to let you go, not wanting to let you slip through his fingers. His heart was still eating him alive at what he had done to you. He had never loved anyone more than he loved you. No one else would’ve accepted him, stayed with him, appreciated his company, love the way he looked even though he hated himself, and loved him for who he was. You didn’t see the evil in his heart, only the pain and rage that wouldn’t stop surfacing.

He hated doing this to you.

The city was in a panic, all evacuated from the Dangerous parts that villains had raided. Dabi had made sure you were somewhere where no one could hurt you. He’d told you to visit your parents a bit farther in Japan, promising he’d return. Of course your protested with a pout, you always did. He loved that too, always wanting to spend time with him. The inky black drops of dye fell off his naturally red hair stained white. His turquoise eyes burned with rage and excitement as he stared down at the man who’d ruined his life. He thought back to you, how you were witnessing his confession, his pain in the television, learning his identity. It hurt to not be there to comfort you, but he needed to do this. He was just happy he’d told you before he ended everything. To finally have closure in his heart.

His staples burned again, blood slowly falling from his scared skin.

*static*

“Now that you all know the truth...” His eyes locked with the camera. “I love you (Y/N). My Sweet Lover.” A pure loving smile. “Ill see you again.”

*static*

#dabi x reader #dabi fluff #touya todoroki #dabi is touya #dabi angst #my hero academia #slight spoilers #dabi #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi bnha #boku no hero x reader

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

VAUNNA I LURK A LOT HI BUT I JUST WATCHED IMPULSE'S FINAL YHIRD LIFE EPISODE MY HEART IS BROKEN AND I NEED M O R E P A I N

(coherently: impulse angst please i beg of you. i grovel at your feet. alternatively villain impulse. just take my heart out and stomp on it. thanks <3 also sorry for the caps i just have a lot of feelings rn)

ahh Villainpulse is such good material! i decided to make this a sequel to this one so go read it first :)

cw: fire, murder (just in case, cuz this one is kinda dark)

…

Impulse returns to the wool castle late the next night and collapses onto his bed, exhausted and a little frustrated. Etho’s confrontation with Bdubs didn’t quite go as planned. The closest they came to a fight breaking out was when Cleo started snapping about how she didn’t trust Etho. No angry words were exchanged between Etho and Bdubs at all. It seems Impulse has overestimated their rivalry.

A knock at the door. “Impulse?”

He gives a sigh but quickly rolls onto his side and calls, “Come in.”

The door opens and Etho’s face peers in. “Hey, do you have a minute to talk?”

“Yeah, sure.” Impulse forces a smile. “What’s up?”

“I’m worried,” Etho admits. “Cleo REALLY seems to think I murdered Tango, and I’m a little concerned that she’s going to turn Bdubs against me.”

“Really?” Impulse responds. “That wouldn’t be good, since she was talking about making an alliance with the desert people earlier.”

“Exactly. If we’re not careful, the server will end up splitting into war. I know you’re on better terms with Bdubs than I am; would you consider going over to talk to him tomorrow?”

Impulse nods. “Sure thing. I’m sure I can work something out.”

“Thanks.” Etho gives a grateful smile. “Anyway, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, man.”

Impulse lies back on his bed, even more disgruntled than he was before. The war he’s slowly been cultivating is so close to being brought to fruition, but the slightest wrong move might destroy all his hard work. Bdubs and Etho will be the catalysts. They’ve got the right animosity and the right allies behind them to spark the war, but he just needs the right fuel to set it off.

It’s time for drastic action.

…

Under the cover of night, Impulse makes his way out to the crastle, armed with a sword and a flint and steel. With his intricate knowledge of the crastle’s defences, he makes it to the inner wall undetected and sets up a ladder against it. Climbing up, he creeps in through a very specific window.

As expected, Cleo is fast asleep in her bed. Impulse hesitates for only a moment. This is neither fair nor right, but Impulse doesn’t really care at the moment. He’s come way too far to fall now.

So, with a cold and emotionless expression, he stabs Cleo through the chest, in such a way that will severely injure her but not kill her immediately. She lets out a weak cry, but her eyes don’t open.

When he’s sure she hasn’t woken up, Impulse sets the fire near her bed, before escaping back out the window and shimmying down the ladder he set up. He can see smoke starting to pour out of Cleo’s window.

So he turns and flees.

He’s just made it back to the wool castle when the notification comes up on his communicator.

ZombieCleo went up in flames

Impulse settles himself back into bed.

And he smiles.

…

The next morning, Etho isn’t around, so Impulse goes straight to the crastle. He can see noticable fire damage around Cleo’s window; clearly, Bdubs had managed to put out the fire in time to save the crastle but not in time to save Cleo.

He knocks on the door.

It takes a full minute for the door to open but when it does, it reveals a red-eyed Bdubs, who’s clearly been crying.

“I’m so sorry,” Impulse murmurs, pulling his friend into a hug. “I saw in chat. What happened?”

Bdubs sniffles. “Th-There was a fire. In C-Cleo’s room. I woke up in the middle of the n-night and smelt smoke so I r-rushed down to her room and put out the f-fire but it was too late for her.”

“Oh, I-I’m so sorry…”

Impulse opens his mouth to speak again, but Bdubs quickly draws him inside the crastle and shuts the door behind him. A haunted look has appeared in his eyes. “Impulse… I-I think Etho murdered Cleo.”

Impulse’s eyes widen. This isn’t quite an act; he’s genuinely shocked that Bdubs came to the conclusion Impulse wanted him to come to this quickly, and all on his own. “Wait, what?! Y-You mean the fire wasn’t accidental?”

“No, it was deliberate. She…” Bdubs suppresses a sob. “She was stabbed in the chest first. The fire was to cover the tracks of whoever killed her, to make sure their name wouldn’t show up in chat.”

“Oh no…!” Impulse gasps. “B-But what makes you think it was Etho?”

“I don’t know for sure, but wh-when we talked yesterday, Etho mentioned something about how easy it would be to sneak into the crastle with just a few ladders and… this morning, I found a ladder outside the wall. I know it’s far from conclusive evidence, I just… I can’t shake the horrible feeling that he did this because Cleo said she suspected he killed Tango. Maybe he realised he had to take her out before she discovered any evidence he left behind.”

“N-No, I… That can’t be…! Etho would never do something like that!”

“I want to believe that,” says Bdubs sadly. “But I-I just can’t. I’m gonna avenge Cleo, Impulse. No matter what it takes.”

After a moment, Impulse nods. “I understand. Are you gonna talk to him?”

“Later. First, I’m gonna finish making that alliance with Scott and Grian’s group. Etho’s got Dogwarts on his side, so I’m gonna need the other guys on mine.”

“Got it. And I’ll help too; I’m on your side 100%, remember?”

Bdubs nods gratefully. “Yeah, thanks. Let me know if Etho does anything suspicious.”

“I will.”

…

When Impulse gets back, he finds Etho waiting for him. “Hey,” he says. “You went to the crastle, right? How’s Bdubs doing?”

“Not good,” Impulse responds sadly. “He seems to have got it in his head that you murdered Cleo.”

“What?!” Etho gasps, sounding genuinely shocked and taken by surprise. “Why would he think that?!”

Impulse shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know, dude. But he’s pretty convinced. And he’s going over to the desert right now to ally with Grian and Scott so he can rally them against you.”

Etho’s gaze darkens. “Okay, he’s gone too far. First he tries to pin Tango’s murder on me, now Cleo’s? We gotta do something about him, Impulse. Are you in?”

“Absolutely. I’m on your side 100%.”

“Good.” Etho gratefully places his hand on Impulse’s shoulder. “Thanks. We’ll rally the rest of Dogwarts and see if we can get to Scott and Jimmy before they do. If it’s a war Bdubs wants, it’s a war he’ll get.”

Impulse smiles. He can sense no distrust in Etho’s voice or expression whatsoever, just like Bdubs. Neither of them suspect him of anything.

Oh, he’ll get it all right.

You both will.

#3rdlifesmp #3rd life smp #impulsesv #etho #bdubs #zombiecleo #vaunna’s requests

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mask-of-anubis · 3 years

Note

1 with Nina and Jerome 🙌

This took me so long to get to but here it is! (other asks are coming soon, I promise!)

“Nina asks Jerome to do something ‘no questions asked’ and Jerome fears the worst.”

____________________________________________

Anubis House, 9pm.

As a matter of principle, Jerome liked to stay as far away from Nina Martin and her trail of bad luck as much as possible. He learned that lesson early on, but that didn’t mean he stuck to it. He always seemed to get involved with her Scooby gang eventually, even if he didn’t mean to. They were nothing but trouble, and he had more than enough of his own.

So when his phone rang at 9pm one night and he saw her contact name, he almost chucked his phone under his bed. Against his better judgement though, he answered it.

“Is this a butt dial?” he asked, hoping to quickly communicate that a call at this time of night (when she was right upstairs, mind you) was not welcome.

“I’m cashing in my favor,” she said, cutting right to the chase.

“I’m sorry?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I need you to do something for me ‘no questions asked,’” she said.

Jerome stopped. “Absolutely not...” he started to say, but she cut him off.

“You owe me a ‘no questions asked,’” she said.

“I do not…” Jerome scoffed, but she once again interrupted.

“Valentine’s Day, last year,” she said. “Need I remind you?”

“Okay! Okay, I remember,” he said quickly. Ugh. Why the hell did he ask her of all people to help? He had hoped she would forget and never cash in, but apparently today was the day.

He couldn’t believe he was on the hook for a girl who had even more enemies and sketchy night activities than he did. It was equally likely she would ask him to help her find a nerdy signed book as a present for Fabian as it was that she would ask for help burying a body. He hoped for the former.

There was nothing he could do. A “no questions asked” was binding at Anubis. He was indebted and it was time to cash in.

He sighed. “Fine, what do I need to do?”

“Meet me in the Frobisher Library, 11pm. Bring your noise-cancelling headphones, a headlamp, and a trowel,” Nina said. The second she was done talking, she hung up.

“God dammit…” said Jerome.

____________________________________________

Frobisher Library, 11pm.

“We better not be burying a body, Martin,” said Jerome three hours later when he walked into the library and found her sitting in the dark with a heavy looking satchel over her shoulder.

“I’m surprised you actually came,” said Nina.

“Despite what you might’ve heard, I pay my debts,” he said.

He gestured to his equipment. “What’s all this for then?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I meant what I said: no questions. Let’s go.”

She walked over the bookshelf and pressed the button to make it swing open. Great, Jerome thought. He didn’t know what he expected when she asked him to meet there of all places, but he had hoped going down into the tunnels wasn’t on the agenda.

There was still time to escape. But at what cost? If he ran now, Nina would undoubtedly spill the details of his humiliating Valentine’s “no questions asked.” He really couldn’t live with that. He sucked it up and followed her inside.

____________________________________________

The Tunnels, 11:15pm.

Down in the tunnels, it was worse than Jerome remembered. Granted, the only time he’d ever been down there was when he was running for his life, so he hadn’t taken his time to peruse.

It was also freezing. He rubbed his arms as he trailed behind Nina, wondering how she wasn’t shivering.

It was true what everyone said about her; she really was unphased by stuff like this: subterranean tunnels, deadly tasks, et cetera. She’d changed since last year. She was always a bit of a daredevil, but he remembered her in the history classroom, shaking with fear, tearful at the thought of their teachers tipping the scales.

Now though, she walked past chilling stone rooms haunted by the ghosts of deadly tasks completely steady, jaded even. Speaking of ghosts, from the rumours Jerome heard, Nina spoke to spirits regularly, like it was normal. She kind of terrified him.

He was really scared of whatever she was leading him to. After all, they didn’t have the best track record in their relationship. He’d betrayed her when her life was at stake, not once, but two times. Granted, both times he didn’t know her life was at stake, but it didn’t make it any better really. Plus, Nina notoriously held grudges. He just hoped she wasn’t leading him to his doom.

“Okay, here it is,” she said finally.

She stopped in front of a dusty trap door. It looked like an ancient air vent. Jerome looked around; this couldn’t be what she meant.

She opened the hatch door and crouched down. Jerome peaked inside. It was pitch dark. He switched on the headlamp and shined it inside.

“Oh god…” he said. Behind the door was a long, dark, dusty tunnel that, for all he knew, led straight to the depths of hell. In the quiet between each of their breaths, he could hear a distant, dull roar coming from inside.

Nina tied her hair up into a ponytail. “Okay, I need the stuff you brought,” she said, holding out her hand. She strapped the headlamp to her forehead, tucked the trowel into her back pocket, and put the headphones around her neck.

“If you hear me screaming, don’t panic,” she said – easily the most alarming thing anyone had ever said to him. “I won’t really be in danger. The only time you’re allowed to come in and help me, is if you see the walls collapsing.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jerome said. “This is insane! What the hell are you doing in there?”

“You’re on a strictly need-to-know basis,” Nina said. He dropped it. He knew no amount of questioning would make her budge.

He also knew something else: if he left right now and refused to help, she would 100% do whatever it is she’s doing on her own. That was how they were the same; they were both stubborn, sometimes to the point of self-destruction. The least he could do was stay there and make sure she didn’t self-destruct.

“Fine,” he said. He had so many bad feelings about this — about why they were here in the dead of night, about why she asked him of all people, about what was in that tunnel, and about what the hell she had in that satchel.

As she steeled herself to enter, he got his answer to the last question. The flap of her bag shifted and Jerome spotted an unmistakable flash of gold. The Cup of Ankh.

His eyes went wide. Before he could say anything, she put on the headphones and disappeared into the tunnel.

____________________________________________

The Tunnels, 11:30pm.

It was agonizing waiting for Nina to reappear. He only brought one headlamp, so he sat in the dark of the tunnels, listening to the wind pass through and rustle the dead ivy twigs and leaves on the ground.

He didn’t hear anything in the tunnel once Nina entered. He watched her crawl in, the headlamp casting eerie, moving shadows on the dirt of the cave. But eventually, Nina and her light disappeared.

His ears had never been more peeled as he listened for any sign of struggle or danger. He had no idea what she meant when she said he might hear her scream. Did she mean in pain? In fear? It didn’t even matter because she told him to stay put anyway. He didn’t know if he could do that.

For now, he listened for signs of rubble falling. What would he do if it collapsed? If she was buried alive? He shuddered. Being buried alive sounded almost as bad as his worst fear. Almost.

Thinking about it made his skin crawl. He got up to pace and walk it off.

He looked to his left and saw a long stone beam stretched over a dark pit. Light streamed in from the moon through a grate in the ceiling. He peered into the pit, but it descended into darkness. He kicked a pebble into it. He didn’t hear a sound until nearly a minute later.

“What the hell is this place?” Jerome whispered. Not only was it architecturally impossible, but it was also clearly full of horrors and death traps. No wonder the Scooby gang wasn’t afraid of his ghost stories anymore.

He kicked another rock into the pit, but while he was waiting for the drop, he heard a noise from in the tunnel. It was a distant whimper — Nina. He paused, listening for another noise.

“Ahhhh!!” Nina shrieked.

Jerome ran to the tunnel. “Nina?” he shouted. “Hello!” She didn’t answer. She didn’t scream again.

He knew what she told him. Stay there, don’t react, it’s fine. He knew something else though: she was stupidly reckless. His heart was pounding. For all he knew, she could be dying in there, all alone, and he was doing nothing.

It was normally his M.O. to stand by, let other people deal with their problems while he dealt with his. He did that all year. He saw his friends sneaking out at night, jumping at the slightest noise, clutching burning brand marks, turning pale at the dinner table — and he ignored it. Not this time.

He pushed up his sleeves, steeled himself, and crawled into the darkness.

He couldn’t see anything at all, it was totally dark, but he crawled forward. “Nina!” he called. “I’m coming to find you. And this is the worst ‘no questions asked’ ever!”

She didn’t respond. He listened hard, but he couldn’t hear her screaming. He couldn’t even hear her telling him off for coming in. Instead, he heard dripping. He crawled forward.

Drip. Drip. Drip. He followed the noise. It was all he had to go off of. He still couldn’t see Nina or her headlamp.

The drip sped up to a steady stream. He heard a babble, like the sound of a tiny stream. Where the hell is water coming from, he thought.

“Nina?” he shouted. “What the hell!” Jerome’s hand sunk into a puddle. When he pulled it out, it was covered in slippery mud. He wished he could see. He kept crawling against his better judgment, but then he felt it: water rising.

All around him, he felt freezing water seep out of the ground. A moment later, he felt a drip from above. “What…” He stopped in his tracks. The water was rising. Panic set in.

He was petrified. He didn’t know whether to turn around or find Nina. The water started to pour in heavy streams from the top of the tunnel. It soaked his hair and his clothes. It was freezing cold.

“Nina!” he shouted desperately. Please let this be a dream, he thought. “Nina!”

He pushed his hair out of his eyes but it did nothing because he couldn’t even see. His pulse pounded in his ears. He remembered when this fear started — the day at the beach, his first time at the coast. He nearly died. Alone. This time he wouldn’t be lucky enough to catch the current to shore.

He spit out water and coughed. He sat back onto his heels. The water was at his waist. “Nina!!”

Then he heard her, her voice like a dual-edged sword: sharp on one side and terrified on the other. “Jerome! What are you doing? I told you to stay —” She was cut off by a rush of water from the ceiling. It splashed into their faces.

He couldn’t see her at all, but when the water drained from his ears, he could hear her choke and cough.

“We have to get out!” she yelled. Another rush of water descended on them. Jerome tilted his chin toward the ceiling. He couldn’t stand to put his face underwater. It terrified him.

A horrible rumble moved through the tunnel. All of a sudden, Nina’s headlamp glitched back to life. She was right beside him, soaking wet and squinting in the light. The water was murky brown and nearly a meter deep. Jerome was petrified.

Nina, however, shouted, “Let’s go!” She started paddling toward the entrance. Jerome couldn’t. He couldn’t do it.

“Wait!” he shouted, but before he could do anything, he heard the rumble again and a huge wave of water descended on him from the back of the cave.

It was so powerful that it pushed him and Nina back. He knocked into the walls of the cave and flipped onto his back as the wave shoved him. He was completely disoriented, flipping back and forth, hitting the floor, suffocating from the lack of oxygen, until finally the wave dumped them out in a heap onto the cold concrete floor of the tunnels. Water flooded out in waves behind them.

Jerome kneeled on the ground, choking and gasping. His heart pounded. His skin was frozen.

“What the hell?” he shouted when he caught his breath. His vocal cords were wrecked.

He looked up at Nina. She kneeled in a heap on the ground, coughing up water. “I’m sorry,” she exclaimed. “You weren’t supposed to go in there,” she said.

Jerome laid down on the cold floor. He heard the roar of crashing waves, all in his memories.

____________________________________________

The Grounds, 11:50pm.

They walked back to Anubis in silence. With every step, their shoes squeaked and squelched with water. Jerome was freezing. He looked over at Nina; she was shaking. It reminded him of that night in the history classroom. He noticed her satchel was now empty.

“Answers, now,” Jerome said.

Nina sighed, but she didn’t argue. “I had to bury something down there,” she said.

“The Cup,” he said. Nina stared at him. “I saw it in your bag.” He didn’t ask how it survived the furnace.

“Then you can understand why it needed to be hidden somewhere no one would ever go looking for it,” she said. “The tunnel was part of the tasks. It shows you your worst fear.”

“No kidding,” Jerome scoffed. He looked at her, but she stared off into the distance. He couldn’t help it; he wondered what the hell she saw in there. He didn’t ask.

“I asked you to come because no one in Sibuna would have let me do what I just did.”

“For once I agree with them,” he said.

“Well, I had it handled,” she said. “I’d done it before, so I knew what I was getting into.”

“Yeah, until we almost drowned,” he stressed. Just saying the word struck fear in his heart. His skin froze all over again.

“That’s why I said to stay where you were,” she said. “I never wanted you to get mixed up in that.” She ran a hand through her soaked hair and sighed. “I’m sorry I got you into that mess.”

Jerome nodded, his version of accepting an apology.

Nina half-grinned. “Trust me, I really thought you’d be the one person on earth who would actually mind your business when I told you to,” she joked.

He cracked a smile. “Trust me, normally I would have.” But when he thought about it, he’d stuck his neck out for her kind of a lot. He realized with a shock that she had done the same for him, and she probably would again if given the choice.

“Well, Martin, after tonight I believe you owe me at least three ‘no questions asked,’” he said. She probably owed him a couple hundred actually, but he was feeling generous.

She sighed. “That’s fair,” she said.

They reached Anubis finally. They ditched their soaking shoes and socks outside and snuck in the house. Jerome shuffled off to his room, eager to rid himself of his soaking clothes and the memory of this night forever, but Nina stopped him.

“Jerome,” she whispered. He squinted at her through the darkness. “Thanks.”

“You live a weird life, Martin,” he said, his way of saying “you’re welcome.” She was the most reckless person he has ever met, but he had to admit, she had guts.

That was how Jerome learned to never request a favor from Nina Martin ever again, no matter how many embarrassing things he did on Valentine’s Day.

____________________________________________

Valentine’s Day, 2011 (one year ago).

Nina knocked on Mara and Patricia’s bedroom door, staring at the text she got from Jerome.

A second later, Jerome opened the door and stepped outside, looking panicked.

“What the hell is a ‘no questions asked?’” she asked.

“No questions!” he whisper-shouted. He grabbed her wrist and tugged her into the room.

The room was covered in pink frills, plush stuffed animals, glitter, and red hearts. A string quartet sat on Patricia’s bed. When they saw Nina, they readied their instruments and started to play.

“NO!” Jerome shouted, more desperate than angry. “It’s not her.” He turned to Nina, “Help me get rid of it!” he pleaded.

Nina’s jaw was on the floor. “What the…”

“No. Questions. Asked,” Jerome hissed.

#lol sorry for the angst in there #that always happens #i wasnt sure i wanted jerome to go in the tunnel but i really wanted to explore my hc for his phobia #sorry to this man #he should know better than to get mixed up with nina #especially after 10pm #those are her feral hours #jerome clarke #nina martin #house of anubis #hoa ask #thanks for the ask!#hoa fanfic

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lalainajanes · 3 years

Text

For klarosummer bingo, this completes my first row! The prompt was “swimsuit model.”

Fortune Favors

“Bekah, these are amazing,” Caroline gushes. She 100% means it, but she’s laying it on a little thick. She’s seen pictures, mock-ups, and was fitted with prototypes. Now, with the line entirely constructed, all the details finished, Caroline’s impressed.

Rebekah, however, seems frazzled, her usual rock-solid confidence nowhere to be found.

Totally understandable. It’s a big day for her.

Rebekah’s working on launching a swimwear line, is funding a big chunk of it herself. Caroline would have agreed to help out even if she didn’t owe Rebekah a favor. Caroline continues flipping through the garments until she finds the tag with her name on it.

She pulls the first hanger off the rack to look at the suit more closely. It’s a white one-piece with a deep-v neck, a belt slim black belt, and ruffled straps. Rebekah fidgets, “We’re styling this one with red lips and heels, a big hat. We’re going to try to shoot this one on the rocks.”

“Sounds good to me.” The shoot seems far more professional from the ones they’d managed to pull together for school projects. They’d done the best they could with the facilities available to students, but the house they’re using today is by far the nicest one Caroline’s ever been inside of. It backs onto a private beach which seems unnecessary considering the freaking gorgeous pool in the backyard. “Who’s the photographer?”

Rebekah grins, clearly pleased with herself. “I managed to convince my brother to donate his services.”

Well. Now Caroline’s nervous. “Your brother Klaus?” she asks, kind of hoping she’s wrong. Klaus Mikaelson is a big deal. He’s shot major covers, A-list celebrities, million-dollar international campaigns.

He’s used to models who know what they’re doing, and Caroline’s definitely an amateur.

“Yes, Klaus. I’ve forbidden Kol from coming within a five-mile radius. Can’t have him harassing the models. And Elijah’s been a gem, but his expertise lies more in negotiating with suppliers and nagging me to mind the expenses.”

Caroline takes a deep breath, tells herself it’ll be fine.

She studies her next look, a sleek black bikini and a sheer black robe covered in floral details. “Love the appliqués. Did you bead this yourself?”

“Till my fingers were bloody. But I think it’ll photograph well.”

Caroline hums in agreement. “Is this one on the beach too?”

“No, by the pool. Chaise lounge, martini glass, one of the male models in the background. Think rich divorcee seducing the help.”

Caroline hopes it’s a real martini. She might need it.

She flips to the next hanger and has to bite back a distressed groan. Rebekah’s concept leans retro, so the yellow polka dot bikini in her hand is skimpier than Caroline had anticipated.

“Probably should have skipped breakfast,” she mutters.

Rebekah scoffs, “None of that. You’ll look smashing in it. I have impeccable taste.”

Caroline’s distracted by male laughter, a new person slipping into the tent. “So you’ve insisted your whole life. I distinctly recall you sneaking into the family albums and burning most of the photographic evidence of the unfortunate style choices you made in years 7 through 9.”

Ordinarily, Caroline would exploit the opportunity to get a little dirt on Rebekah, but she’s annoyingly tongue-tied and intimidated. She’s pasted on a polite smile, more out of habit than anything.

She may have google stalked Rebekah once upon a time, way back when they’d been rivals at school. And if during Caroline’s research, she’d read several articles and poured over dozens of pictures of Rebekah’s very talented and successful fashion photographer brother, that was her business.

Know thy enemy and all that, she couldn’t have known that rivalry would shift to friendly competition, then to actual friendship.

She’d noted he was attractive, of course, as anyone with eyes and sense would have. Most people don’t manage to live up to photos taken by professionals.

Klaus Mikaelson does, and it’s not helping her insecurities.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Nik.”

He walks further in, offering Caroline his hand. “You must be Caroline. It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Klaus Mikaelson.

She swallows, is relieved when her voice sounds normal. “You too. I’m excited for today. I love your work.”

He nods, appearing pleased. “It’s been ages since I’ve done this kind of shoot, but you must know how Rebekah can be. Wouldn’t stop haranguing me until I agreed.”

Rebekah glares, piqued, and Caroline presses her lips together to hold in a laugh that threatens, knowing it would not be appreciated. “I can’t blame her for doing what needed to be done to ensure the desired outcome. It’s only good business.”

Rebekah nods firmly, “Exactly. Thank you, Caroline. At least someone here appreciates me.” She picks up the last hanger that had been in Caroline’s section and hands it over. “This one’s first since the set-up is the simplest. Bonnie should arrive while you’re shooting. We’ll do her first look while you go back into beauty, then rotate throughout the day. Put this on. I’ll send hair in first.”

She knocks into Klaus’ shoulder when she leaves, hard enough to have him swaying. “That’s why you’re not allowed in my house!” he calls to her retreating form. “Just had the floor redone,” he tells Caroline. “Can’t have her stomping all over them if she has a tantrum.”

“She’s stressed. You might want to be nicer.” Caroline regrets the words immediately, glances away under the pretense of studying the bikini in her hand. He’s donating his time and apparently his house. Their family squabbles really aren’t her business.

But Klaus isn’t offended, “Perhaps you have a point, though Rebekah’s never more productive than she is when she’s angry. Failure’s not an option when she’s fueled by spite.”

Hmm. Caroline has similar ideals. Maybe that’s why she and Rebekah came to understand each other.

She realizes she’s been twisting the bikini top’s strap, hurriedly straightens it out. “I feel like I should warn you, my modeling experience is limited to pitching in with other student’s shoots at school. So, I’m far from a professional.”

He shrugs. “You have nothing to be worried about.”

That startles a laugh from her. “You only say that because you don’t know me. I am a world-class worrier.”

He takes the suit away from her, setting it aside. His knees bend, until their eyes are level. “Caroline. You’re beautiful. Rebekah’s created lovely things. I’m very good at my job. I have every confidence the final product will be spectacular, and I’ll be able to enjoy reminding Rebekah that she owes me a favor down the line.”

Caroline blinks at him in surprise, some of her nerves having drifted away when faced with his absolute and unwavering confidence. “That’s… actually very reassuring.”

“Was it? I confess that’s not a strength of mine.”

She’s not sure if he’s joking or not, but she picks up her first outfit again. It’s another bikini, a tropical print on a pink background with a halter top and a high waisted bottom. “I should change,” she says. “Something tells me Rebekah won’t appreciate it if we fall behind schedule.”

Klaus nods, rocking back a step. “Of course. I just wanted to introduce myself. Please feel free to let me know if you need or want anything at all.”

She thanks him again, and he lets himself out of the tent.

Caroline takes one more deep breath and then ducks behind the screen in the corner and strips out of her sundress.

Once she’s dressed in Rebekah’s design, she begins to feel like everything might just go okay. The suit fits like a dream, propping up her breasts and perfectly hugging the curve of her hips. By the time hair and makeup work their magic, leaving her curls full and her lips slicked bubblegum pink, she feels freaking fantastic.

When she steps out onto the set, Klaus’ eyes widen when he spots her, lingering in a way that’s slightly unprofessional but not at all unwelcome.

He walks over, paying not the slightest bit of attention to anyone on the crew, even when an assistant tries to wave him over. Klaus offers his arm to help steady her as she steps into the matching pink pumps, leans in close, and tells her she looks incredible, his lips brushing her ear and sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

She might be in trouble.

Will Rebekah kill Caroline if she flirts with Klaus? Probably.

Caroline thinks she’s willing to risk it.

#klarosummerbingo #klaroline #klaroline fanfiction

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imaginationintowords · 3 years

Text

Folklore [song series]

invisible strings

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

Word count: 3401

[ a/n: thank you so much for all the love and support. We’re almost done with this series! If I forgot to tag you please let me know! Also the ending is a bit lackluster but decided to save the best one for something special for the last chapter]

Age: 21

Year: June/July 2015

Location: CA & NY

"Thank-you all for coming and christening our new place," Thor thanks everyone, as he and Loki stood up at the dining table in their lit up backyard.

"Now there's one person I want to thank, my love," Thor said, reaching his hand out to Wanda who was sat to his left, Loki took his seat back down, "My love, I just want to thank-you for being by my side these last two years. I have never been as happy as I am with anyone else. Now I'm not very good with my words, but what I do know is how I feel about you. The love I have for you exceeds anything else."

"So, I just need to ask you this one question," he says, bending down on one knee, holding Wanda's left hand, while holding the ring box in the other, "Will you, Wanda Maximoff marry me?

"Yes," she cried out, throwing her arms around Thor's neck.

Everyone got up to cheer the newly engaged couple.

Steve and Elizabeth laid naked in her bed, comfortably in each other's presence after the night's activities.

"I can't believe Wanda and Thor are engaged," Elizabeth said, as Steve rubbed her arm as she laid on his chest.

"He's been talking about it for the last year," Steve tells her, "Said he didn't want to scare her off."

"Guess I'm going to have to find a new roommate," she jokes.

"Well actually, I was thinking."

"You better not be proposing to me post sex, while we're naked in bed," Elizabeth playfully jabbed his chest, looking up at him from his chest.

"No, no," Steve lets out a hearty laugh, "Not yet. We still have time for that."

"I was actually thinking, why don't we get a place together. After graduation," Steve suggests.

"What about your job?"

"I can commute," he says, "I'll be done with school in May. You still have law school after graduation, and I have no doubt Stanford is going to accept you into their law program, so you don't have to move."

"What if I don't get accepted?"

"I highly doubt you won't, but if you don't, I'm sure Columbia will snatch you up. And I'd follow you, wherever you go."

"Really?" Elizabeth asked, surprised he would even say that.

"Yeah. There's a lot of architect firms out there, and I'm sure my boss will give me a nice recommendation."

"I couldn't ask that of you Steve," Elizabeth said, getting off of his chest to sit up, grabbing the blanket to cover her chest.

"Which is why I'm offering. I want to do that Liz. This right here," he sits up, and gestures to the both, "This is all I want. So please, if it comes time for that, just let me."

"Okay. Promise you won't resent me?" She asks, feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

"Never," he seriously says, pulling her in for a kiss, and back into his arms.

As they laid in bed, Steve notices Liz is lost in her thoughts.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"Us, and everything that's lead us to this moment. Like there were some invisible strings leading me to you," she tells him.

"Yeah, you're correct," he ponders.

"Like everything that's happened, happened for a reason. We weren't supposed to be with each other then otherwise we probably wouldn't have made it out of high school."

"You don't think?" Steve asked.

"No, because we wouldn't have been the people we are now. Let's be real here Steve, you and I are not Bucky or Peggy. We're dreamers. Full on happy ending believing people who happened to be with realists at the time. We would've been so naive about the world outside of Brooklyn," Elizabeth says.

"We had never truly experienced pain in the way that we did. If we didn't go through senior year the way that we did, we wouldn't be here. Not specifically together or in California. But we would be stuck in a life where we forced ourselves to be happy. Where we didn't have room to grow. Room to experience a different way of life. We would've been who we were as 16 year olds. And don't get me wrong but that's no way to be."

"I'm glad this happened when it did," she says tilting her head to look at Steve's face.

"Me too," he smiled kissing the top of her head.

"Wow, my arm is so tired from lugging this ring around," Wanda announces walking into Elizabeth's room where she was packing things into a suitcase.

"Must be so exhausting," Liz teases as Wanda takes a seat on her bed.

"Incredibly," Wanda smiled, "How's the packing going?"

"Good, I have everything I'll need for the next two weeks," Liz tells her, "You guys are flying in two days before Steve's birthday right?"

"Yup! Thor seems to be more excited about Steve turning 21 than he is," Wanda laughs, "Next up will be you next month. Vegas won't be ready for us."

"Thor really is going out for all of our 21st birthdays, is he."

"He's excited we're all legally allowed to drink," Wanda says.

"So," Wanda shifted in her seat, "Are you guys going to the baby shower?"

"Yeah we are," Liz nodded her head, "Things have been better, and Steve really wants to be there for Bucky, and so do I."

"How are you feeling about it all?"

"Honestly, if Bucky is happy then so am I."

"It doesn't bother you even the slightest that he's having a baby with the woman he cheated on you with?"

"No," Liz shakes her head, "We've both moved on and grew from our situation. I'm happy with Steve, truly 100% happy. I know in my heart that Steve is the one."

"Whoa, wait, back that up," Wanda immediately shot up from her spot on the bed, "He's the one?"

"Yeah," Liz bascule smiles, her cheeks turning a slight pink.

"I mean, I knew that you loved him, but I don't think you've ever said out loud that he was the one."

Elizabeth shrugs her shoulders trying to fight off the huge grin that wants to spread across her face, "Well he is."

"Wow, umm this is great news," Wanda says looking around the room.

"What's wrong?" Liz asks taking in Wanda's sudden mood change.

"I just," Wanda coughed, trying to fight back the ball in her throat, her eyes tearing up, "I'm so happy for you. God this ring is making me incredibly emotional."

"Aw Wands," Elizabeth pulled her into a hug.

"You just deserve to be with someone who truly thinks the world of you and would move those worlds for you," Wanda cries in Liz's shoulder, "I just remember you telling me all about the shit you went through with Bucky in high school, and then the crap he put you through freshman year. You were just so over the idea of love. Even with steve you were so cautious, so just to hear you say that he's the one. I'm just so incredibly happy."

Elizabeth hugged Wanda tightly, tears streaming down her face. It meant the world to her to hear Wanda say those things. She felts so incredibly lucky to have a friends like her in her life.

"I better be your maid of honor," Wanda teased pulling away and wiping her tears, "Because you already know you're mine."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"We still need to get a baby shower gift for tomorrow," Elizabeth told Steve as they lounged around his childhood bedroom. Steve was sat at his desk sketching, while Elizabeth laid in his bed reading a book.

"I can do that if you want," Steve offered, not wanting to make Elizabeth uncomfortable no matter how many times she's told him she was fine.

"Somehow I don't think I can trust you getting the correct gift," Elizabeth teased.

"Babies like legos right?" He teased back, getting up to join her on the bed, laying his head down on her stomach.

"We can go together, I still need to get a few things for the party next weekend," she said playing with his hair.

Steve hummed in response, feeling himself getting tired, "A quick little nap and we'll go."

"Sounds good," she smiled at the man snuggled up on her.

The next day the couple were walking into the Barnes' backyard, hand-in-hand with a gift bag.

They were both instantly greeted by Bucky's mother Winnie.

"Oh you two made it!" She enthusiastically greeted them, pulling them both into a hug.

"Of course. We wouldn't have missed it," Steve smiled at her.

"Thank-you," she turned to Liz and grabbed her hand, "both of you. James really appreciates it. We all do. Especially with everything that has happened, he's going to need his best friends."

"You don't have to thank us," Liz says, "We'll always be there for Bucky. No matter what happens."

"Well thank-you," she smiles, and then turns to Steve, "Steve the men have been sent inside, so you can see your way inside."

"Already getting pushed aside," he jokes.

He placed a kiss on Elizabeth's cheek, "I'll be inside if you need me."

She nodded her head, then glanced around the yard and caught eye contact with an old high school classmate, Natasha's friend, rolling her eyes at the couple.

She cleared her throat, "Where do the gifts go?"

"Over at that table where Rebecca is at," Winnie smiled, and pointed to the table to the right where Rebecca was organizing all the gifts. Liz thanked her and made her way over.

Liz couldn't help but start to feel a bit uncomfortable. She hadn't planned for she and Steve to be separated for the entire party. She didn't really know anyone here, aside from Bucky's family, where things were still a bit awkward after last summer.

Even though things were good between Steve, Bucky, and her, it was still awkward. She and Natasha don't have the best history, they still haven't talked everything out, clear the air. Not that Nat owed Elizabeth a conversation, she just thought that now that things were okay, maybe them two can work on their relationship, for the sake of Bucky. But whenever Liz tried to reach out Nat would just say that she was busy, so she didn't push it. Not with Natasha being pregnant, plus she figured now that she was in town for two weeks that maybe they could get together for a quick chat.

"Hey Liz," Rebecca greeted her, a sigh of relief to see a friendly face.

"Hey Bec," she smiled, hugging the teen.

"God, I'm so glad to see you," Rebecca said pulling back from the hug, "Some of these girls are real bitches."

Liz was taken back for a second hearing Rebecca swear, it's sometimes hard to believe that tiny little toddler is now this young lady about to enter her senior year of high school.

"I'm sure they're not so bad," Liz said trying to give them the benefit of the doubt.

"Really? Because they're looking at you like you just murdered their entire family," Rebecca said.

Elizabeth turned around to see Natasha's friends huddled in a semi-circle around Natasha, all whispering and glaring at her. She turned back around to Rebecca and gave her a force smile.

Rebecca felt bad at bringing that to Liz's attention. Liz was always so nice to her, and even continues to keep in contact with her especially when Rebecca needs any help or advice.

"I can take that," she said trying to change the subject.

"Thank-you," she quietly said, handing over the gift bag to Rebecca.

"They're just jealous," Rebecca tells her, "Even with having my brother's child, Natasha still can't find it in her cold hearted heart to be nice to you."

"She doesn't owe me anything."

"Now that's not true. She owes you a lot, and the least she can do is be nice, especially with my mother throwing her this baby shower and allowing her to live with us until she and Bucky find a place."

"She's living here?" Elizabeth asked, surprised to hear that. Bucky never mentioned Nat living with them, they did know that they were looking at places closer to his job and school.

"Yeah, she moved in probably two months ago, when she really started to show," Rebecca tells her, "Apparently she hadn't told her dad, and once she started showing she had to confess. He kicked her out. Said she was ruining her life."

"That's intense," Elizabeth said.

"Yup. So my mom and Keith are letting her stay until they find a place of their own," Rebecca says, "And as much as I love my brother I can't wait til she's gone. He's an idiot for knocking her up."

"She can't be that bad," Liz said trying to give Nat the benefit of the doubt.

"Trust me Liz, she is. Being pregnant has made her a complete devil," Rebecca stresses, "My mom is way too nice to have that be the mother of her first grandchild."

Before Liz could respond to that, someone came up behind her.

"Oh Becky, I wanted the gifts to be color coordinated," Natasha remarked, with her hand on her belly.

"My mom told me to do it by size," Rebecca rolled her eyes, "And my name's Rebecca."

"But Becky is so cute."

"No it's not," Rebecca argued.

"Hi Natasha," Elizabeth awkwardly greeted, breaking up the conversation.

"Oh hi Elizabeth," Natasha stiffly said, forcing a smile on her face as she rubs her belly, "Didn't think you would show up."

"Oh, well Steve told Bucky we were coming," she explains.

"Of course he did."

"You look pretty," Elizabeth complimented her to try and break the tension.

"I know. I'm absolutely glowing carrying Bucky's child," she replied with a snarky tone.

"I'm really happy for you both."

"Sure you are," she rolled her eyes.

"No, I truly am. That's why I actually wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering if maybe we can get together sometime this next week, to talk," Liz suggests.

"There's no need," Nat tells her, "I get what you're doing. You think that getting on my good graces will put you in Bucky's good graces, but I hate to break it to you, that's not going to happen. I'm trying my best here to be polite to you, but once this baby is born, I'll make sure Bucky no longer makes time for you and Steve. I am his life now, and we don't have space in it for you both."

"Nat-"

"Thanks for the gift, hopefully the gift receipt is in the bag," Natasha fake smiled, "Enjoy the party."

"Fix the gifts Becky," she turned to Rebecca enunciating 'Becky', before walking away to go back to her friends.

"Told you she was the devil," Rebecca commented, ignoring Natasha's request.

"Yeah, you weren't lying," Elizabeth turned to look at Nat who was laughing with her friends.

Steve and Elizabeth said their final goodbyes a couple of hours later, and walked back to their rental car.

"That went well, don't you think?" Steve commented on as he started the car.

"Yeah it did," she lied.

Elizabeth decided it was probably best not to bring it up to Steve. He and Bucky just fixed their relationship, that she was afraid if she told Steve that Bucky wouldn't believe them. She would just have to hope that Bucky wouldn't allow their friendship to take another hit. She had faith that their friendship was stronger than that.

"Do you mind if we made a stop somewhere?" Steve asks her as he pulls away from the curb.

"No, of course not."

"Perfect. We just have to make one quick pit stop before," he says a few minutes later, parking in a parking lot of a cafe.

Steve walked back out of the cafe with a picnic basket.

"What's that for?" She asked smiling as he got in, putting the basket in the backseat.

"Just wait and see," he winked.

15 minutes later they were pulling up to a park.

"A park?"

"Thought we could have an impromptu picnic date," he smiles, "Wait here."

He got out of the car and grabbed the basket from the backseat. She heard him close and open the trunk. He then opened her door.

"Mi lady," he held his hand open for her to take.

"Oh why thank-you kind sir," she giggled taking his hand.

He led her to a nice spot on top of a hill, overlooking the park.

"Can you hold this for me real quick," he asked, holding out the picnic basket for her.

She took it from him as he laid out the blanket. Steve took the basket back and started to unpack the contents and laid them out on the blanket for them.

"A little dinner at sunset," he offered his hand so she can sit down next to him on the blanket.

"This was perfect Steve," she kissed his cheek, as they finished off their little dinner.

"Just thought I'd thank-you for coming with me today," he says wrapping his arm around her, as she leaned into him.

"You don't have to thank me."

"I know I don't, but I want to. I know you say you were fine with today, and I completely believe you, but I also know that even if you're okay with it, it's still can be uncomfortable," he says, "So I just want to show you how appreciative I am of you."

"I love you," she leans her head up to capture his lips with her's.

Age: 27

Year: 2021

Location: Brooklyn, NY

"Steve whats with the blind fold," Elizabeth giggled in the passenger seat of their rental car.

"It's a surprise," he laughed, "Now just be patient, we're almost there."

"Steve, come on you know I hate surprises."

"You liked the last surprise I gave you," he teased.

"It was a kitten, that's different," she smiled.

"You still loved it," he said, "Plus we're here already."

"Oh that was quick," she said reaching to take her blindfold off.

"Don't," he warned her, "Not yet."

Steve helped her out of the car, and linked their arms together as he led her to the surprise.

"Okay, we're here," he nervously said, he took her blindfold off.

Liz adjusted her eyes after being in the dark for the past 30 minutes. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted with a lantern lit up picnic on top of the hill at the park.

"Surprise," Steve said behind her.

Liz turned around to find Steve down on one knee, with an opened ring box.

"Steve," she gasped.

He took her left hand into his own.

"Elizabeth Carolina Sanchez, words can't even explain how much I am in love with you, but I'm going to try. I don't think i can remember back to a time where you weren't a part of my life, and honestly i don't want to. You've made me so incredibly happy these last almost seven years, and no matter how much I say I'm appreciate of you, i don't think it's ever going to be enough. Getting to wake up to you every day to you smiling at me, honestly i don't think there's a greater thing in the world. I'd give the entire world, if it meant that I got to see you smile every day of my life. I don't ever want to imagine a life without you. You've made me the best person I could ever want to be. There's not a day that doesn't go by where you don't continuously tell me how proud you are of me, and the endless amount of support and love you've given me. There's no one I'd rather spend my entire life with. Start a family with. Be a family with. So, Elizabeth, will you do me the greatest honor of marrying me?"

"Yes," Elizabeth choked out, as the tears streamed down her face. She lunged herself into Steve's arms and kissed him.

"I love you so much," she cried.

"I love you too," he said, pulling her into another kiss.

They pulled away, and Steve placed the ring on her finger.

"I love you," she said again.

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