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wbellab · 2 months ago

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Busy Woman | J. Bucky Barnes

summary: You’ve always had a soft spot for Bucky Barnes. Shamelessly flirted just to see that annoyed look that made him look so good. He never gave you more than those quiet stares, jaw tight like he was holding something back. Fine by you. You had better things to do than wait around for a man stuck in the 40s. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

pairing: tfatws!bucky x fem!reader

cw: angst (i love writing that lol), red room widow reader, post endgame, mentally unstable reader, grumpy bucky, flirting, cocky reader, reader has no filter, sexual jokes, implied canon deaths, implied canon violence, several times, no use of y/n

3k words

inspo: busy woman by sabrina carpenter

It started of with occasional flirting. You’ve been told that James, Bucky as people called him, Barnes was an ex assassin, a super soldier with a body count larger than you would’ve suspected, a guy that had the power to literally crush you if you annoyed him too much. But you didn’t care.

You’ve always been too bold and shameless for your own being. Life is too short to worry about details as insignificant as his body count (his death toll—you didn’t care about his past experience with women, or men ?—the more the better…).

This being said, you did not ignore who he was. You obviously acknowledged what he had done before. But hey, you could still appreciate beauty for what it was. Because James Buchanan Barnes was truly a sight for sore eyes. You didn’t know where all this playful flirting started getting more real.

"You look good in black." You mentioned one day gesturing to his gear. You both were paired in a small check up mission, much to your delight and Bucky’s annoyance.

"I always wear black clothes." He huffed.

"Yeah, my point." You smiled.

Men look hot in black, that’s a universal law, so you didn’t think much when you gave that comment. You’ve always been like that, subtly flirting with anyone, giving genuine compliments, sometimes out of the blue. It came naturally, especially with Bucky. What you truly did not expect was seeing his face flushing. It was subtle, but your eyes noticed. And that’s how your one sided flirting with him truly began.

"Something’s off." Bucky muttered, looking at the tracking device in his hands.

"Probably my clothes." It took him a moment to grasp it. But when he did his eyes just widened, and he sighed, used to it already. "You have no sense of humour whatsoever it is alarming." You continued after observing his reaction.

"No because that is straight off the worst pick up line you could come up with. Is this what you call flirting ?"

"You’re so confident that Im flirting with you. That is also alarming."

You were in fact flirting with him, though subtly. But you still kept the upper hand, folding your arms across your chest in a way that was almost childish.

He matched your gesture, folding his arms against his chest, a playful smirk on his face. "Well I hope you’re not because rejecting you now would probably mess with our assignment discharge." It was subtle too. But it was his way of rejecting you, kind of. You didn’t flinch. You wouldn’t take it seriously until he said the words straight to your face.

"Oh…" you pouted, mock-hurt. "I didn’t want your old cranky ass anyway." The lie rolled off your tongue effortlessly. It wasn’t awkward—your smile stayed sharp, teasing, and his matched it. He probably thought you were joking. Maybe you were. "But hey although i’m busy, clothes are always optional if you ever need a favor."

He groaned. Yep, you absolutely loved teasing him.

Something resonated through him one day. It was right after Thanos erased half of the world population. To him the blip felt like just a second but to you, you aged five years. You were apart of the Time Heist mission. You saw your sister sacrifice herself, to save you and the world. And you felt awfully guilty.

Things had drastically changed, when people reappeared. Bucky found himself in a world that was once again moving on while he was freezing with time. But still he got pardoned for his former actions, he started seeing a therapist and right when he thought he would be able to get his life together, Steve left. But you, you were the same old person. Talking to him as if nothing changed, as if you didn’t age five years older while he still looked the same.

You were in his apartment on a random evening—the very same night he returned from a "date" with the girl from the sushi place. Not that he knew you’d stalked him.

When Bucky noticed his door was unlocked, a sinking feeling settled in his chest. He was sure he’d locked it. The key turned too easily. Then he saw you. A sigh left his lips, probably exasperation or relief. Maybe a bit of both. Still he didn’t have the energy to make you leave at that moment.

Great mistake.

"I mean a win is a win, it shrunk our age gap with five years." You shrugged to him when the subject of the blip came into the conversation. It was more you talking and him huffing and listening. Barely listening. "You know I missed you. It was kind of boring without you."

"I bet it was." He huffed. "Look why don’t you just–" he gestured to your figure laying on his couch a bag of crisps, that you stole from his pantry, in your hands. "Stop putting crumbs all around the apartment and just get out now."

"Woah, I see you’re still rude." You mumbled. "I just missed you during those five years you know ? And since all of my friends are either gone or dead I just feel… super, super lonely." You sighed, dramatically. Although it sounded like a joke, you meant everything you said.

Your life truly fell apart when half of the population disappeared, it was already crumbling before but now, it was much more worse. Things were different. If it wasn’t for Nat being with you before, you would’ve probably not made it past your twenties. But now that she died, sacrificing herself, you just felt like you were dying all over again.

"Don’t you feel lonely ?" You asked cutting the silence. He turned to you, a bit surprised by what you asked him. You were staring straight ahead without blinking and that’s when he noticed the flask in your hand.

"You’ve got to be kidding me…" He muttered under his breath, taking the flask away from you. "Have you seriously brought alcohol here ?"

"I told you I felt lonely." You tried to defend yourself, as if it was enough to justify your need to drink alcohol. "But you did not answer me."

He sighed slumping in the couch next to you. He stared at the bottle that he stole from you just seconds ago, and he brought it to his mouth before wincing.

"This thing is disgusting."

"Its just some cheap vodka. I don’t have money." You answered sadly, your eyes not leaving the point you were fixing on the ceiling. You were absolutely wasted, after just one sip. To be fair it was your first time drinking, your system was definitely not used to it, even with all the serum injected in your veins.

"Once you’re sober, you’re getting out of here."

"Why do you badly want me to go mmh ?" You asked turning your head towards him, a frown on your face. You were not about to cry. Yes definitely not in front of him. "I would’ve rather gone to Sam." You say bluntly, the alcohol loosening your thoughts. "But he’s visiting his family and I thought you would maybe appreciate some company."

"Well I clearly don’t so you have your answer now." He said more firmly. "I don’t want your company."

"You don’t want me ?" You pouted, although your face showed a hint of amusement. Your fingers lightly grazed his flesh arm, and Bucky flinched at the contact—until he noticed your gaze shift toward the flask in his left hand. With a reluctant sigh, he offered it to you. But you did not take it. Instead you reached for his metal wrist,guiding him until the rim of the flask touched your lips, forcing him to pour the drink in your mouth. He was too stunned to resist, his eyes widening as he let you. "What ?" You hiccuped, probably from the drinking. "It’s technically you making me drunk now so it gives me a reason to stay longer." You giggled. You genuinely though at that moment that it was the smartest thing you’ve ever done. And that’s something to say because you were an ex spy.

"Fine." He said standing up and pouring the rest of the alcohol in the sink. You quickly got up, trying to follow him. Your walk was wobbly.

"Do you even know how much this cost me ?" You rolled your eyes, trying your hardest to not completely crumble on the ground.

"Have you seen yourself right now ?"

"Do you care for me ?"

"Not even close."

"Okay fine if you don’t want me…" You feigned walking towards the door but before you reached the handle you turned toward him. "I’ll just deem you gay." You giggled so hard you lost your balance.

The sexual undertones were not unnoticed by Bucky and he simply decided to blame the alcohol for your behaviour– although you always acted this way, sober or not. He was empathetic enough to help you off the ground and lead you back to the couch. You arms were around his shoulders as he grabbed you from your waist. When he tried to pull away, you were still gripping him hard.

"I am so lonely James." you murmured, your voice barely audible against his chest. You felt the rapid thrum of his heart beneath your cheek. He must have great stamina, you thought unaware it was racing for an entirely different reason.

"I know me too." He admitted too. Knowing that you wouldn’t remember it the next day.

He left you sleeping on his couch, you were definitely not going back to your house in this state and he should do with it.

Bucky woke up the next morning to an unexpected sound: silence. No burning kitchen, no flooded bathroom. Everything was exactly as he’d left it. For a moment, he wondered if he’d imagined you being there at all—some kind of strange dream brought on by exhaustion and memory.

But then he saw the neatly folded plaid blanket on the couch. You’d been there. You just left before he woke up. No note, no text—just gone. And it was barely 7 a.m.

It’s fine, he told himself. Nothing happened. I asked her to leave.

Still, a faint, unwelcome flicker of disappointment crept in. You could’ve at least thanked him, right?

He did not have time to dwell on it anyway. He had a more important business to attend to.

…

Sam was glaring at Bucky from across the jet. The hum of the engines was the only sound between them, heavy silence stretching thin like thread ready to snap. After deciding to confront Sam about the shield this morning, Bucky found him heading to Munich for an operation and he decided to tag along. That is pretty much how they found themselves in this situation.

"So…who are we fighting ?" Your voice cut through the quinjet, and you appeared from the steering cabin. You wore a headset and a black gear, the one you usually wore when you went on missions.

Bucky’s head snapped toward you, his expression tightening the second his eyes landed on your face. He grumbled something under his breath—he was definitely cursing you. The corner of your mouth tugged upward despite yourself. You always did have that effect on him.

"Did you plan this ?" His question was raised towards Sam.

"Why would I plan this ? You were the one who forced yourself into this plane" Sam retorted, he then turned to you a bit surprised. "What are you doing here ?"

"I happen to be training to become a pilot here and well it also happens to be the exact plane you guys are in so…" you lingered a bit. "I guess we’re working together." You flashed a wide smile.

"We’re absolutely not." Bucky said.

"I did not ask." You shrugged going to sit right next to Sam, which gave you a great sight of Bucky in front of you. This man looks so good when he’s annoyed. "I think Sam would rather work with me than with your little bitch ass anyway."

"Couldn’t have said it better." Sam muttered, and you extended your hand high-fiving him.

"Do you have something with my ass ? ‘Cause you’ve been talking a lot about it lately ."

"Wouldn’t you want to know." You winked at him. You hunched forward, elbows on your knees and hands supporting your face. Without breaking the eye contact. You stayed like this for a full minute.

Bucky felt… off. Unsettled. You were talking to him like nothing had happened—as if just the night before, you hadn’t shown up at his apartment, drunk and messy and vulnerable. As if you hadn’t buried your face in his chest and confessed that you were lonely. As if you hadn’t fallen asleep right there against him.

And now? You were smirking, teasing him like it meant nothing. Like he meant nothing.

Maybe you didn’t remember. Maybe it had been one of those hazy, half-lost nights for you. Or maybe—maybe that kind of moment was just something you could toss aside without blinking.

But for Bucky, it lingered. It was etched into the quiet corners of his mind.

And now you were laughing at him. Flirting like the night hadn’t happened.

He clenched his jaw and broke the eye contact, not trusting himself to speak. Because the truth—the one he hadn’t said out loud—was that it hadn’t been nothing for him.

"Haha you lost !" You cheered, turning to Sam. "See that, I just fixed his staring problem."

Sam caught the brief exchange and couldn’t help the amused grin that spread across his face. This mission wouldn’t be that bad now with you joining them.

"I don’t think you fixed anything. You just made freeky magoo over there very flustered."

Bucky rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Before he could answer anything, Torres appeared from the cockpit.

"One minute till drop off, Sam."

"Y’all did not answer me." You huffed standing up and grabbing an earpiece of you own.

"Flag smashers." Sam briefly answered. "You probably heard of them."

"Thirty seconds !" You heard Torres yell.

"Enjoy your ride Buck." Sam

"Oh no you can’t call me that."

"Why not ? That’s what Steve called you."

"Steve knew me longer and Steve had a plan."

"I have a plan." Sam turned to you. "You coming ?"

"Yep." You got up and Sam extended his hand for you to take. The plane was extremely low so you couldn’t use a chute.

"Fifteen seconds."

Sam gripped your waist.

"Oh yeah, what’s your plan ? Her ?" Bucky called, but Sam ignored him and jumped out of the plane with you in his arms.

"How’s he coming down ?" You asked Sam once you both were in the air flying towards the the outbuilding where your targets were located.

"He’ll manage."

"I had all of that on camera you know that." Sam said from beside you. You were watching Bucky from Redwing’s camera. He was lying on the ground where he fell a few seconds earlier from the plane.

"The whining looks good on you Barnes."

"Get out of my face or you’ll experience what real whining sounds like."

"Kinky." You muttered

"That’s a fucking threat."

The mission had gone sideways—again.

Smoke still lingered in the air, the convoy you were meant to intercept now far gone in the horizon. The intel had been wrong. Again. Too many hostiles, too many surprises, and no backup. Well except for Captain American wannabe and his acolyte.

And somewhere in the brutal fight, Bucky had done what he thought was best.

He had tossed you out of the moving truck.

Literally.

You were still brushing gravel off your jacket as you stormed down the dirt path beside him, your hair wild, your boots stomping with each step. You were limping, pretty sure you had twisted your ankle.

"You threw me off of a fucking truck, Barnes!"

"I saved your life." Bucky snapped, not even looking at you.

Sam trailed just a few steps behind, looking like he was trying not to laugh. Or interfere. Or get involved in the very obvious mess brewing between you two.

You turned on Bucky, not even acknowledging your hobbling stride, walking backward just to glare at him properly. "You couldn’t have just said ‘jump’? But no? You had to manhandle me and yeet me into a ditch like a rag doll?"

"You weren’t listening!" Bucky growled. "You were about to get blown up, and I didn’t have time to argue!"

"So your solution was throwing me out of a moving vehicle?!"

"You’re fine, aren’t you?" he snapped back, finally meeting your glare. "Little bruised ego, that’s all."

Sam finally sighed, raising his hands. "Alright, alright. Can we not kill each other while we’re in the middle of nowhere? I don’t feel like dying because you two decided now was the time to have a full-blown breakup fight—without even dating."

You both turned to glare at him in perfect unison.

Sam just shrugged. "I’m just saying what we’re all thinking."

"She shouldn’t have come." He deadpanned, he wasn’t even addressing to you and this made your blood boil.

Your eyes narrowed dangerously. "You don’t get to decide what I can handle. I’m not some helpless bitch."

"Oh really ?" He let out a dry laugh. "Could’ve fooled me." he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

When Bucky stared at your eyes, there was no longer that usual warmth that you always had when you talked to him. Gone was the usual glint of mischief, that effortless warmth you always carried when you tossed a smirk his way or teased him like he didn’t terrify most people. Your gaze now was colder—steeled, unreadable. You weren’t joking anymore.

"Nothing," Bucky gritted out, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "I’m just done cleaning up after someone who treats everything like a joke and never thinks about anyone but herself."

The words hung in the air like a slap. You froze mid-step.

He wasn’t just talking about the mission anymore. You knew it.

You stared at him, stunned for a second, before your voice dropped, sharp and cold. “Say what you really want to say, Barnes. Stop dancing around it.”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at you.

That silence? It cut deeper than his words.

You shook your head with a bitter smile. “Right. That’s what I thought.” You turned and kept walking.

And maybe for the first time, he realized you were genuinely hurt.

part 2

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for sooo long. There will be a part 2 I just need to edit it, although i’m highly contemplating turning this into a fanfic

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infictionalwonderland · 1 year ago

Note

I NEED PART TWO OF THE MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N L/N!

. . . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT! (part2)

part 1 / part 3

You cackled to yourself after sending the message into your groupchat, quickly returning to the video and beginning to play it again, occasional bursts of giggles slipping through your lips.

Resuming your place in the video—the first clip that began playing was actually from not that long ago at all. It was You, Kat Dennings, Elizabeth Olsen and Zendaya at Taylor Swifts Eras Tour (an experience you would genuinely never forget). Taylor was playing Lover and, in the clip, Kat had your face in one hand and the other wrapped around your waist, bringing you close to her body.

“Lover, can I go where you go—“ Kat sang with Taylor, singing all the lyrics to you and grinning at you, faces inches away from each other. “—Can we always be this close.” She punctuated this lyric with giving you an eskimo kiss.

You smiled sincerely at the memory.

The next clip began up, it was you and Chris Evans doing Playground Insults with BBC Radio 1: the two of you were sat opposite each other, knees touching, Chris was grinning goofily at you, giddy laughs escaping him as you tried to remain straight faced.

“—we’re here with Chris Evans and Y/N Y/L/N.” The presenters introduced.

“And we’re about to play Playground Insults . . Now Chris and Y/N are sat opposite each other,” the camera cut to you and Chris, him smiling largely and you looking away to contain your own, “the atmosphere is very tense.”

“We’ve done this quite a few times now but im thinking.. this is the biggest movie of the year, let’s make this the biggest playground insults we’ve ever done.”

“Yep.” Chris nodded, trying not to laugh.

“Chris, hun. . you’re ugly. Like, plain ugly.” You nodded seriously, immediately setting off as you feigned a pained wince to the words. “Everyone’s been talking about it. . just, you’re so atrocious to look at. Honestly, I almost feel arse over tits in horror when I saw you.”

Chris opened his mouth to say something but then faltered and pouted, “no matter how good of an actor I am, I could never even get those words out my mouth about you and make them sound genuine. Seriously.”

The third clip started—it was Chris Hemsworth on a carpet, a bold colourful question at the bottom said ‘WHO HAS THE MOST FANS?’. Chris immediately said, “Y/n.” In that deep Australian accent of his. “Not that I blame the people from choosing her to be the people’s queen, she is truly one of a kind. You’ll only ever meet one Y/n in your lifetime, cherish it. The fans have the right idea.”

It changed to Scarlett with the same colourful question at screen and at the same carpet event: “Oh, Yeah. Y/n, one hundred percent.” She chuckled huskily. “That woman has fans upon fans and seriously, I’m one of them. She is something else.” She grinned, winking at the camera.

After Scarlett, Paul Rudd came onto your screen in the very same clip. “Oh! The legend herself, Y/N Y/L/N.” Paul answered brightly, smiling. “The amount of fans she has is unbelievable—well, it’s definitely believable for someone like her, so, not really unbelievable..”

The forth clip began—it was you all playing Family Feud with Jimmy Kimmel, on his live show. Sebastian and RDJ were currently facing off; Jimmy posed the question “what, other than the sun, are some of the hottest things to exist?”

Sebastian got to the buzzer faster than Robert managed to and didn’t even falter or hesitate as he answered straight away, “Y/N Y/L/N.”

The audience immediately screamed laughed and shrieked in delight, RDJ just nodded his head in understanding and appreciation, clapping his hands. Chris Evans, Mark and Anthony on the other side all looked amused but ultimately accepting (Chris was nodding along almost subconsciously). You were on the other team, looking heavenward with a faint exasperated grin and Scarlet wrapped her arm around your waist, Chris Hemsworth smirking at you both.

The fifth clip started up: it was a behind the scenes shot from Endgame, the big final battle. You were currently in the middle of doing your own stunt, green screen behind you and harnesses strapped to you as you dangled at a halfway point in the air. Your arms and hands were positioned in such a way to show your character manipulating her powers—the position also very much enhanced your chest, with the added help of your superhero attire. You looked hot, even you could admit.

The camera mirthfully panned to some of the rest of the cast who all stood aside while you filmed your scene—said cast being Chris Evans, Tom Holland, Gwyneth Paltrow, RDJ, Elizabeth Olsen and Tessa Thompson. All of their eyes were fixated on you, Robert was the only one grinning in amusement (and awe) while all the others stared at you as though you hung the sun yourself.

“Boobies.” Lizzie giggled faintly, her eyes stuck. The rest of the cast watching dumbly nodded while the crew cracked up behind the cameras.

And if you screenshotted their dumbfounded faces looking ip at on screen you. . well that was your business.

The clip changed. It was now Karen Gillan being interviewed on some carpet event, looking genuinely breathtaking. The interviewer was asking, “—obviously, your friend and co-star Y/N Y/L/N has been in lots of iconic movies. . what is your favourite scene of hers in The Wolf of Wall Street?”

Karen paused with a cheeky little smile, giving the interviewer a a jokingly incredulous look. “Come on.” She simply said. “It’s a bloody no brainer, I’m certain it was Leonardo’s favourite scene too. . I hope it is anyway otherwise he’s a silly, silly man.”

At the same carpet event with the same interviewer, Chris Hemsworth was being interviewed—his wife, Elsa, on his arm and looking half ready to battle off any rude interviewers (queen).

“—what is your favourite scene of hers in Ocean’s 8?”

“All of them!” Elsa answered eagerly, grinning. “Her outfits really accentuated her personality and I enjoyed them very much so. Particularly her outfit for the gala. . the amount of accentuated personality, by gosh, it had me speechless.”

Chris turned her head, obviously trying not to laugh at his wife.

“Nunca he estado más celoso y agradecido por la ropa en mi vida.” Elsa hummed.

You blinked.

The clip changed to you, Sebastian, Lizzie, Paul, Jeremy and Jimmy all on his Tonight Show playing Musical Beers. The slightly unnerving music/beat played in the background while you all stalked around the circle, Paul and Jeremy already out—leaving you, Seb, Lizzie and Jimmy.

As you were all racing around the circular table, Lizzie very obviously swatted your ass and you were impressed with your own body as you watched that impact: the audience erupted into laughs and shrieks, Jimmy playfully covering his eyes as Seb smirked. You thought that would be the end of the clip, but no.

The very disco-esk tune briefly cut out and past time you thought that meant it stopped completely and you’d already reached for the red cup in front of you and chugged it’s contents, only to pause as the music began back up.

“Spit it back! Spit it back!”

You did just that—but when the music actually stopped and Seb was left standing in front of the cup with your (let’s not go there) in it, your mouth popped open in shock. Jeremy gladly backed away from the table in hysterics, Lizzie and Jimmy equally as amused.

“Oh my god, I am—“

Sebastian quickly downed the cup with. . those contents, not even looking all that perturbed.

“So sorry.” You finished, mouth agape.

You vaguely remembered a conversation you’d had with him after the show, sincerely and repeatedly apologising and he was just very, very amused with you. He didn’t seem to mind at all—what an odd man.

“It’s all good.” Sebastian chuckled lowly, wrapping the mortified looking past you in a one armed shoulder hug and squeezing you to him. Lizzie seemed to be trying to trade a very obvious eye message with you—the audience shrieked and screamed in the background.

Another clip began: its was you and Scarlett Johansson doing a trust fall thing, you thought (correctly).

“Scarlett I swear. .” You giggled, looking over your shoulder at the woman behind you—she grinned back at you amusedly, her eyes twinkling.

“Calm down.” She laughed herself. “I’ll catch you don’t worry, gorgeous.”

Still slightly overcome with nervous giggles, you turned and let out a breath as you shut your eyes before holding at your arms and falling back.

And catch you she definitely did—although her hands didn’t exactly land in a PG-13 area, you cackled as you watched her hands grope at your chest to pull you up. In the video, you were also wheezing as were the crew and Scarlett had a cheeky little smirk as she laughed.

When you were finally standing, she gave one last squeeze before finally letting go—on screen you was breathless with giggles.

“Always wanted to do that.” She shrugged simply with a large amused smile.

The next clip began—it was Zendaya and Tom Holland on LADBible, playing that how much do you agree or not game. The statement said was ‘Y/N Y/L/N is everyone‘s celebrity crush’.

Instantly, Tom and Zendaya moved their cups to strongly agree, both of them nodding in solid agreement with the statement: presently, you awed at your friends, ego very much boosted. Well. To be fair, all of this video was massively boosting your ego.

“I mean, come on.” Zendaya made a ‘duh’ face and shrugged her shoulders.

“It’s Y/N.” Tom smiled crookedly, adding onto her comment.

“I am so happy I get to now say that she’s one of my closest friends.” Zendaya beamed genuinely. “She’s—one of those people whose beauty isn’t just an external thing, she’s so lovely man.” She pouted, in awe of you.

Watching the video, you beamed back at her.

The clip changed: Mark Ruffalo was on the Graham Norton show, next to Nicki Minaj and an actor you couldn’t place.

“Who would you say your favourite co-star has ever been, Mark?” Graham inquired.

“I—i would probably have to go with Y/N—“ The crowd instantly erupted into cheers and yells and Nicki smiled next to him, stating that she loved you under the sound of cheering. Mark grinned back at her, mumbling ‘me too’.

“Yeah, she’s a hell of an actress, that one. So easy to work with. Funny as f—hell, she’s just—an extremely genuine and kind person, and she really brings the energy on set.” Mark grinned. “..she’s also the only free pass my wife has ever given me. Which I won’t be using! Because I don’t believe in cheating, it’s scummy! Even though she’s gorgeous—anyone would be lucky!” He had to rise to a shout at the end as the audience erupted.

Nicki giggled next to him, “me personally, I would use that pass.”

You gasped in laughter as you watched the screen, screen-recording it all so you could go back and watch it. Saving it to your folder titled PISSING MY PANTS HRLP

The clip changed yet again, showing a scene from the Winter Solider BTS. You and Sebastian were filming a scene where he had to shoot your character—you watched the ‘Winter Solider’ shoot your character multiple times making you go down with an agonised yell, crawling away from him.

As soon as CUT was yelled, Sebastian’s face dropped from his stone cold (wintery) expression and he raced to you, crouching next to you. He practically tugged you into his lap on the floor, holding you.

“Oh my fuck that—that just felt so real, Y/n. You know I would never hurt you right?” He asked, blinking repeatedly before a small smirk fell on his lips. “You’re way too pretty to injure doll. Can’t ruin your perfect face.”

On screen you huffed in mock anger, hiding an amused grin as you shoved at him—he still held you close to him though, so both of you fell backwards and burst into giggles.

You literally thought ‘I ship them’ as you watched the clip of Sebastian and yourself, forgetting that was you for a moment.

Another clip started up—another behind the scenes. It was you and Tom Hiddleston in Thor : Ragnarok. In the scene Loki was tied down to the chair and your character was meant to intimidate him—you watched yourself take out your character’s daggers and lean forward into his space. One leg leaned up on top of the arm of the chair, sliding one dagger just a hair above the skin of his neck while using the over the move his chin up to be angled to you as you mockingly smiled down at him.

You said your line as your character but Tom remained silent, mouth parted and eyes widened as he gazed up at you—speech failing him. (You knew that they actually decided to include this awestruck look in the movie—the amount of fucking edits you’d seen was unreal).

Eyebrows crinkling you nudged your knee into his chest and he snapped out of it, grabbing your knee in a gentle grip. “Sorry darling, words sometimes seem to fail me in your presence.” He muttered rather hoarsely, still staring up at you.

“I don’t fucking blame him.” Tessa Thompson murmured from behind you both, and the camera moved to show her staring at you in a similar awe.

Present time, you could barely hide your smirk. Literally the biggest ego boost. Of all time.

Again, the clip changed and it was now Natalie Portman looking gorgeous on a carpet event, being interviewed—“if you could have Jane explore another romance than Thor, who would it be and why?”

“Y/N!” Natalia enthused immediately. “Well—her character, but like. Both. Either. One for me, one for Jane. That—would be great. And why? Come on! She’s an absolutely beautiful woman, inside and out. She has this outward glow that you literally cannot and don’t want to look away from and that reflects so much in her personality—once you’ve interacted with her one time, you never want to stop. Ever. I’m not kidding.” She giggled.

Another clip started up quickly—a blooper of you and Chris Evans. In this scene, your characters were meant to kiss after an angsty, angry argument. You stormed into the frame, into the bedroom, completely in character—an angry expression on and ready to go at Steve.

Before you could even let out a single syllable to begin your lines, Chris immediately surged forward and took your face in his hands, kissing the living daylights out of you.

You both pulled back after a bit and you just started at him, questioningly (that kiss was probably one of your best ever, let it be known, Chris Evans was a fantastic kisser).

“I—I thought It’d be good for the scene. .” Chris trailed off bashfully, scratching the base of his neck, literally pulling the excuse out of his arse. In actuality, he hadn’t wanted to spare a moment of the scene where he could be kissing you, well, not doing so.

“Bull!” Scarlett exclaimed as she materialised in the doorway. “He just wanted to kiss you.” She told you, pointedly looking at the man.

“Yeah—i—“ He huffed a defeated sigh, pink-cheeked. “I’ve got nothing. She’s right.”

In hindsight, you thought to yourself, you should probably stop being so shocked when the fanbase starts shipping you with your costars.

The clip changed: now it was you, Elizabeth and Aaron on a carpet event together—all being interviewed at the same time.

“So, Y/n, how does it feel to be in a Maximoff twin sandwich right now?” The interviewer giggled happily, smiling.

Before you could open you’re mouth—“we’re really enjoying it.” Lizzie and Aaron replied at the same time.

The interview gaped and you simply rolled your eyes as the two smirked at either side of you, they’d been talking in sync ever since you’d first met them at the table reading.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t why?” Aaron grinned crookedly. “A beautiful, lovely woman in between us. Honestly, love, there’s not a thought in my head besides you.” He joked, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“I completely support that.” Lizzie chirped in, “ever since I’ve met this gorgeous lady who i now acknowledge as my partner in everything—she’s taken up all of the room in my brain, and I couldn’t be happier.” She giggled, putting her arm around your waist.

In the middle of them both, with an arm over your shoulder and one around your waist—you simply sighed, sparing the giddy interviewer an exaggerated suffering expression.

Again, the clip switched—it was now another blooper of you in the Iron Man movie, the scene where you handed Tony’s arse to him in the boxing ring. Instead of acting as scripted, Gwen Paltrow got up from her seat and strode over to the boxing ring, stepping inside gracefully and planting one right on your lips.

Presently, you giggled as you thought back to this moment. Gwen was your impulsive queen. Your idol.

From the floor, RDJ squawked in shock, exclaiming about being cheated and betrayed and Gwen flung her stiletto off her foot at him without moving from your lips.

When she finally did, she simply smiled at you kindly, “you just looked so good that I couldn’t not kiss you, sweets.” She shrugged and you, on screen, laughed at her as you leaned back in to kiss her cheek.

(Unfortunately the scene was not included in the movie—but Gwen never wasted an opportunity to talk about it, and you, if the chance arose).

The clip moved onto another one—back to the Thor : Ragnarok movie, you and Heimdall were fighting together, however you missed a step in your stunt and ended up stumbling. Idris immediately caught you with a steady arm around your waist, full you to him so you could stabilise yourself.

You smiled up at him thankfully, squeezing his arm in gratitude (totally not because you’d just wanted to feel his bicep).

You watched as your on screen self get distracted again and Idris murmured to Tom who’d now appeared next to him, “I feel like it’s dishonourable how much I want her to fall so I can catch her again now.”

“Mate, trust me,” Tom laughed, “I completely understand. But she doesn’t need the rescuing.”

“That she does not.” Both men smiled fondly as they watched you.

Presently, you were actively refusing to blush.

A different clip started up—Florence Pugh was being interviewed, looking breathtaking in her green dress. “—did you take anything from set?” The interviewer was asking, smiling at Florence.

“Um—not much, just Y/n’s heart.” Florence immediately cracked up at her own joke, smiling widely. “And her underwear too.” She added.

The interviewer opened her mouth to say something more, giggling at Florence as she continued speaking: “and before you ask, no. I wouldn’t be selling, for any price. Finders keepers and all that shite—plus, she’s my girl, so. That rule applies even more so. No one else can take her heart. Or her pants.”

Watching your friend, you giggled at her cheesy smile at her words before getting distracted by your group chat, where multiple of your friends and co-starts had seen your message and were now responding. Your laughter increased tenfold as you opened the thread.

#marvel cast x reader #marvel cast #avengers #the avengers imagine #avengers x reader #famous reader #chris evans x reader #sebastian stan imagine #chris evans imagine #sebastian stan x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland #chris evans #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #actress reader

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rafecameronssl4t · 1 year ago

Text

What’s good, John B? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: After finding out John B poached the Camerons' scuba gear and telling Rafe about it, you forget just how crazy he can be.

Warnings: swearing, slight mention of sex, dark!rafe, possesisve/toxic!rafe, mention of gun, reader is abit of a bitch oops.

Word count: 932

A/n: based on s1 rafe + s1 scenes, idk if I like this one tbh, it was just fun to write. PLS SEND ME REQUESTS IM DESPERATE.

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

With scuba diving gear in hand, John B quietly shuts the door behind him. As he turns, he’s momentarily startled by your presence—the island’s kook princess, Rafe Cameron’s girl—“Oh, hey," you greet him, casually lifting your sunglasses onto your head while John B steals a glance behind you.

“Are you stalking us? Plotting your revenge, huh?” You lean your elbows against the railing, a sarcastic smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, you know what, why don’t you just go tell your boyfriend’s daddy I blew up the bilge on Druthers?” Your annoyance is palpable as a scoff escapes your lips.

You observe as he stows the scuba gear in his boat. “Everything’s good to go. Just toppin’ off these tanks,” he says with an awkward smile, raising your suspicions. “You know-“ before you can continue, a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, causing you to cut your sentence short.

As Rafe’s familiar scent envelops you, you instinctively intertwine your fingers with his, savoring the warmth and familiarity of his touch. His lips leave a delicate trail of kisses along your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Meanwhile, John B lingers awkwardly nearby.

Feeling the tension in the air, John B clears his throat, breaking the silence. “What’s good, John B?” Rafe’s voice cuts through the quiet, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of amusement as he finally lifts his head, his mischievous grin adorning his face, contrasting with the seriousness of the situation.

“What are you- uh- doin’ here? On my boat?” Rafe questions, gesturing around as if to emphasize his point. “Isn’t this your daddy’s boat?” John B tilts his head, while Rafe’s grip around your waist tightens. “What the hell are you doing here, Pogue?” Rafe’s words slice through the tension, his patience fraying at the edges.

“Uh I don’t know if you’ve forgotten Rafe, but I work here. Yep.” John B says, climbing into his boat as Rafe rolls his eyes. “I still don’t know why Dad hired him,” Rafe mutters under his breath, his words carrying a mix of annoyance and confusion. Despite his attempt to keep it quiet, his comment is just audible enough for you to catch, eliciting a smile from you at the subtle jab. “I’m just filling up these tanks,” John B points at the scuba gear. Rafe nods slowly in acknowledgment.

“Uh-huh. Well, move along then,” Rafe waves him off with a dismissive gesture, his expression tinged with annoyance, before he gently tugs you by the hand, leading you back towards the house. As he guides you, his fingers instinctively intertwine with yours, his touch both possessive and protective.

“I don’t want to see you talking to him ever again, got it?” Rafe’s voice rumbles against your hair, his warm breath tickling your skin as he leans in closer, his grip on you tightening with each step.

Feeling the dryness in your throat, you quietly rise from the bed, careful not to disturb your sleeping boyfriend. Glancing around, you spot Rafe’s shirt haphazardly discarded on the floor from the previous night. You pick it up and slip it onto your body, its fabric enveloping you with a comforting familiarity. Moving silently, you leave the room and make your way to the kitchen.

As you open the fridge, the creak of the rolling doors draws your attention. Your movements halt abruptly as you come face to face with John B. His surprise is evident; he's frozen in place, caught between the two doors with scuba gear in hand, staring at you.

A sudden realization hits you—you’re only wearing Rafe’s shirt. Embarrassed, you tug it down, trying to cover yourself more adequately. "What are you doing here?" you ask, your voice a mix of confusion and curiosity.

"Uh- I'm just dropping off the scuba gear." He awkwardly steps inside, his eyes darting around as if he's unsure where to look. "What are- what are you doing... here?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, incredulous. Was he being serious? "It's my boyfriend's boat," you say pointedly, your tone making it clear just how obvious the answer should have been. John B's face flushes with embarrassment.

"It's also the only place with air conditioning, so Rafe and I are staying here," you add, but before you can finish, John B rudely cuts you off. "Rafe is here?" His tone is sharp, almost accusatory.

You purse your lips, irritated by the interruption. "Yeah. And I don't think he'll be too happy seeing you here again." You cross your arms, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

Deciding to change the topic, your eyes flicker down to the scuba tanks in his hands. "Did you top up the tanks?" you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral but firm. John B's eyes widen slightly before he averts his gaze. "Uh... no. The power's down, so the compressors were off." He clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

"So, you're sneaking onto our boat at 5 a.m. with empty tanks?" you retort, tilting your head to the side and nibbling on your bottom lip. Your piercing stare makes him even more nervous. He fumbles for words, glancing around as if looking for an escape. "I'll... I'll make sure to tell Ward," you add, your voice laced with an unspoken threat.

You give him a tight-lipped smile, then turn back around to get a cup, signaling the end of the conversation. Your movements are deliberate, each one emphasizing your displeasure as you busy yourself, leaving John B to contemplate his next move in silence.

"Okay, okay. Cool. Cool," his voice trails off, a nervous edge betraying his attempt at nonchalance. "Just drop these off," he adds hastily, the clattering of the tanks echoing in the confined space. "Yeah, yeah, the middle of the room is fine," you retort, your tone laced with sarcasm as you shoot him a disapproving look.

"Yeah, this is pretty much what he told me to do," he offers weakly, his gaze shifting uncomfortably under your scrutiny. "Bye!" you dismiss him, turning away to retreat back to your room. But just as you begin to leave, John B interrupts again.

"Actually, you know, what- what exactly were you gonna tell Ward?" His laughter sounds forced, a feeble attempt to mask his anxiety. You feign innocence, shrugging casually. "Nothing much. Just that you poached their scuba gear," you reply, your words dripping with casual indifference.

John B's panic is palpable, his eyes widening in alarm. "Calm down, John B. Don't get your knickers all tied up in a knot. I'll tell them what really happened," you reassure him with a sly smile. "The compressors were down, right?" Without waiting for his response, you pivot on your heels and make your way back to Rafe.

"What took you so long?" Rafe's voice is muffled against the pillow as he reaches out for you, his eyes still heavy with sleep. You gently slide into bed beside him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "John B was here," you respond quietly.

At the mention of John B's name, Rafe perks up, his expression shifting from drowsy to alert in an instant. "John B was here? What the fuck was he doing here?" He throws the blankets off of him, the sudden motion jolting him awake as he hurriedly begins to dress.

"Rafe," you try to interject, but he doesn't seem to hear you over his rising agitation. "Rafe!" you raise your voice slightly, finally catching his attention. "He's gone now," you reassure him, though the tension in the air remains palpable.

"Well, what was he doing on my boat this early in the morning and- and what did I fucking tell you about not talking to that pogue, hmm?" Rafe's voice is sharp, his grip on your forearm tight as he confronts you, his frustration evident.

"He poached your scuba gear, Rafe. And he was trying to sneak them back without anyone noticing," you explain calmly, meeting his gaze evenly as you observe the conflicting emotions playing across his features.

"Shit. Wait until dad hears about this," Rafe mutters, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite his anger, a familiar gleam of mischief in his eyes.

Walking out to the backyard to retrieve your sunglasses, the warm sunlight filtering through the trees, you feel a sudden grip on your arm. Startled, you turn to see John B standing there, his expression tense with anger.

"What-" you begin, but he cuts you off sharply. "I just got fired because of you, and I know you can't imagine that, but some people need jobs so that they can eat," he accuses, his voice dripping with resentment. In his frustration, he slaps away the sunglasses you were holding, the clatter as they hit the ground echoing in the quiet backyard.

Before you can respond, the tension is shattered by the sound of Rafe's voice. "What the fuck do you think you're doin', man?" His tone is menacing as he strides over to where the two of you are standing, his demeanor radiating fury.

Rafe's sudden appearance catches John B off guard, but he stands his ground, his jaw clenched in defiance. "Y/n, get your ass inside," Rafe commands without even sparing you a glance, his attention solely focused on John B.

"But-" you attempt to protest, but Rafe's next words cut you off sharply. "Now!" His voice is commanding, sending a shiver down your spine. With a timid nod, you obey, hurrying back into the comforting embrace of Tannyhill.

Around 10 minutes later, Rafe strides back into his room, his footsteps heavy with a mix of frustration and determination. As soon as you see him, you jump up from the bed and wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace. He's slightly taken aback by the sudden gesture but responds by pulling you closer, his embrace firm and reassuring, his hand gently stroking your hair.

"Are you okay? What happened?" you ask, concern evident in your voice as you pull back to look at him. It's only then that you notice the bruise forming around his eye, and your worry deepens.

"Yeah, don't worry about me. That pogue will soon find out he fucked up," Rafe says, his voice edged with a quiet resolve as he gazes off into the distance, his thoughts elsewhere.

"What- Rafe-" you begin, but he brushes past you and opens his drawers, pulling out a gun. Your heart drops at the sight, fear coursing through your veins. "Rafe," you whisper, your voice trembling with apprehension. "Please don't do anything stupid, please."

He turns to face you, the gun in his hand, but his expression softens into a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, sweetheart. He won't be bothering us anymore very soon," he reassures you, his tone calm yet filled with a chilling determination that sends a shiver down your spine.

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dissociativewriter · 9 days ago

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Unnatural Affinity- Part 11

Isekai!Reader x Love and Deepspace

wc: 2.3k

cw: angst, questioning of worth, feeling empty, fluff, maybe comfort?

Synopsis: Returning to Linkon for a brief visit, you get help from Nero and talk with Xavier about recent developments. Back in Skyhaven, Em and Caleb are grappling with your absence.

author’s note: writing xavier for this was kinda tough because im not super familiar with him and i know he’s really nuanced but omg i think im in love with him now >_< anyways y’all its two am right now so im gonna go to sleep now and hate myself in the morning <3 im really proud of this part though so its alright (this isn’t proofread btw so if there’s typos no there isn’t)

taglist: @animegamerfox @ixloom819 @magennta09 @an-ever-angry-bi @corvid007 @vigtore @ph1lo-s0ph1a @ameili @babyx91 @sadsaidthesadthing @bidisasterforevermore @liz9898 @iconoclastoc @elegantdeerlady @lifumi @auraficial @plzdonutpercieveme @dolledbunnytail @junebuggz @mangooes @anatherone @skulzooka @yuhuahuaaa @nm4565natty @feikyuu @lunia-likes-pomegranet @xfangirl-trashx @glitterykingdomangel @eialovescats @mimiu3usoft @alyssac9 @000rpheus @novaisbebita @coffeedragonhobbyist @udejoenrlddo @lanxianschoenheit @paper--angel @xyzbeloved @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @myheartfollower @nightmarewasteland @feralwolfkat @junni-berry @chiikasevennn @lethalasylum @loudpiratepirate @sweetnightowl @rafaissance @white-wolves-and-golden-sunrises @iunse @asilaydead

Series Masterlist

The black leather and tinted windows of Sylus’s car drew shadows and visions out from the corner of your eye. You shifted to the middle, leaning forward so you were between the driver and passenger’s seats, where Luke and Kieran argued over the best route to take.

“You guys really don’t have to do this,” you interrupted. “I could get back to Linkon myself.”

“Actually, we do have to do this, Little Boss,” Kieran said sheepishly. “Boss-man’s orders.”

“Seriously?” you groaned, falling back against the seat with a soft thud.

“Yep,” Luke confirmed. “Boss said we had to take you to Linkon safely, then watch in the car from a safe distance so that his ‘little dove’ wouldn’t notice and get mad.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why do you have to watch me in the first place?”

“Boss-man said it’s to make sure the hunter doesn’t get any ideas.” He shrugged.

“It’s a left here, right?” Kieran asked, quickly glancing towards Luke.

Luke turned around, looking back towards the road. “I thought you kept going straight… I don’t know, I don’t even remember what the Hunter’s Association looks like anymore!”

You pulled your hand down your face. “I’m going to die in this car,” you muttered.

The Hunter’s Association was sterile. Clean. Efficient. Hunters rushing to respond to alerts, researchers rushing to make their lunch break.

You eyed the Hunters’ desks as you pushed forward into the research department. Em’s desks was just as she’d left it that night you both prepared for this mission. Plushies still in place, old reports forgotten and discarded.

The research department contrasted the rest of the Association, just like the researchers contrasted the hunters. There were those that stayed comfortably behind the scenes, and those that claimed all the glory.

Simple. That was the best word to describe it. Simple, but not barren. Simple, in the way the chicken noodle soup was when your mother made for you that day you were a sick little six year old. Simple, in the way that life used to be.

Simple, in the way you wished it still was.

The soft lighting caressed you, unlike the harsh, bright lights in the training grounds. The smell of tea permeated the air, creating a warmth that settled deep in your chest. Stacks of papers, rows of books, all dotted around the department, created such an atmosphere. Always something to do, never terrible pressure to do it. It was calm, comforting, to be surrounded by so much knowledge and feel that you had all the time in the world to pursue it.

You found Nero at his desk, scribbling something down with a steaming cup of tea next to him. He didn’t look up as you approached, continuing to wield his pen as if it were the only thing keeping him alive. He started when you cleared your throat, nearly knocking his tea off the desk.

“Oh, hey! It’s you.” Nero breathed a sigh of relief before furrowing his brows. “You’re back early. Did something happen?” His eyes immediately dropped to your bandaged hands, fighting the urge to pry so you could tell him on your own terms.

Following his gaze, you raised a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. Really. Just a… a stupid mistake.”

“If you say so,” Nero said hesitantly. “Have you already seen the medic? I can call them, if you want.” You stopped his hand already reaching for the phone. His gaze snapped to yours.

“I’m fine, Nero. It’s just a couple scratches.” He nodded, lowering his hand onto the table, yours still resting on top. “Could you do me a favor?” you asked.

“Of course! What do you need? I’ll help any way I can,” he replied immediately.

“Well, first things first, Em is probably going to come around asking about me,” you began. “When she does, I want you to tell her you haven’t seen me, alright?”

Nero nodded slowly. “Sure, but why? Did you two have a falling out?”

“Something like that,” you sighed. “This next thing might be a bit complicated.” You leaned in a bit closer. “Is that alright?”

Nero nodded again, vigorously this time. “That’s alright! I just want to help you as best I can.” He leaned in, too, his voice lowering as a flush painted his cheeks. “To be honest, you’re probably my only real friend here. I get the feeling the other guys don’t really listen. So, I want to help you as much as you helped me.”

Feeling your chest swell with his quiet confession, you pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek, watching with soft laughter as the red across it darkened with blush. “Thanks, Nero,” you whispered.

“Um, any— anytime,” he stuttered. “What did you need me to do?”

In the quiet of the research department, you carefully explained your request.

Caleb’s apartment hadn’t been filled with a calm quiet in days.

There was quiet, sure. But none peaceful.

There was the quiet of plotting, the quiet of sulking, the quiet of anger, the quiet of regret, no matter how briefly lived.

It echoed in Caleb’s apartment, reaching the farthest corners and leaving neither one of its occupants untouched. Caleb had succumbed to the quiet days ago. An acceptance that this was how it was going to be from now on. Things would never be the same.

He was foolish to think they would be.

Em seemed to deny the quiet. She wanted to act like it hadn’t consumed her, even as it chipped away at her halved soul. The quiet invaded her eyes, replacing the complete emptiness, the desolation, with an acknowledged lacking. The awareness that something was missing, even if there was no certainty as to what that was.

Caleb watched as she crumbled, watched her increasing defiance towards the decay. He could recount just when the fall began, down to the minute.

The apartment was quiet when they’d returned. The kind of quiet that leaves a sickness pooling in the pit of your stomach, a feeling that tells you something was wrong.

But nothing was out of place. Caleb made sure of it. He moved from the kitchen to the bedrooms, checking every nook and cranny for anything that was even slightly off.

Nothing.

He halted in front of your bedroom. Should he knock, did he have the right to? You had so little peace left, he knew, so who was he to disturb that?

He walked past with a deep sigh.

Em practically fell into the living room, uniform disheveled and hair a mess. She collapsed onto the couch, pulling an apple pillow into her arms. “Caleb, do you ever feel... less than whole?”

Caleb looked up, eyeing her from the opposite side of the room. He closed the distance in a few quick strides, stopping just an arm’s reach away from her. “Are you feelin’ that way, pip-squeak?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, it just—” a sharp exhale “—just something I read somewhere.” She stood abruptly, dropping the pillow as she move with purpose. “I’m going to check…” she trailed off.

The walk down the hallway felt too long, allowing Em’s thoughts to consume her as she approached your door. Would you still be mad, she wondered? Would you yell? Would you be crying? Or would you be accepting, finally seeing her point of view?

She gave a soft knock on the door. A warning. She opened it quietly, wary of your possible reactions. When met with silence, she pushed further in.

Abandoned. That’s what it was. Empty. No sign of you. No lingering warmth, no comforting scent of shampoo, no gentle caress of breath.

Just cold.

Em’s legs moved before her mind fully comprehended it. She searched frantically, watched with a quiet detachment as her hands pulled apart curtains and blankets, hoping, wishing, that you were just hiding.

That you weren’t really gone.

“Caleb!” she called, voice mixing into something foreign. It broke slightly as she called again, the grief cracking through.

Caleb came running, like he always did. He slowed as he walked in, taking in the strewn pillows and blankets, the curtains torn from their rods, the woman standing in the middle of the chaos looking so small, like that kid in the lab that didn’t quite understand what was going on, why this was happening to them.

“Gone,” she whispered. “I don’t know—” Her voice caught. “How? When?”

Caleb’s arms surrounded her, snaking around her in a firm grip, ensuring she couldn’t slip away, away into her mind or away into the world. “I don’t know, pips,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t now how it could have happened.”

“Someone helped,” she said, voice hardening. “Someone had to. And I think I have an idea as to who would.”

Em pulled herself away from Caleb’s grip, leaving him empty, reaching for something that wouldn’t stay. He watched as the fire returned to her eyes, briefly, the flame quickly igniting before the downpour of grief snuffed it out.

Something was missing now. Something she now needed.

Caleb realized with that quiet horror that she truly wanted it, needed it back.

That quiet horror consumed, it seemed, melding and mixing with every barely changing mood.

The quiet persevered.

The training grounds were loud, almost overwhelmingly so. Despite the twilight and approaching dusk, hunters still dueled and trained as if chasing the sun’s departure.

“Xavier!” you called out.

The hunter paused, his light blade freezing mid-strike as he met your gaze. He dropped it to his side, letting it fade away in a soft, slow burst of light.

You raised a hand, motioning for him to come closer. He came forward, face hiding any doubts he had though confusion was littered in the sea of his eyes. He raised a hand to wipe the sheen of sweat from his forehead, taking the brief moment of pause to observe you.

“Did you need something?” he asked hesitantly.

“I actually have something important to tell you,” you said sheepishly. “Is it alright if we talk someplace private?”

Stiffening slightly, Xavier only offered a nod. You lightly took his hand, leading him away from the training grounds and through the Association. The setting sun cast an orange glow through the spacious windows, painting an otherworldly glow on Xavier’s figure.

You finally stopped in an empty courtyard outside the Association. Flower arrangements, trees, and topiaries dotted the space, along with the occasional wooden picnic table. Leading Xavier to one in the far corner, you sat down on the table top, resting your feet on the bench. You patted the space next to you.

Xavier took it without hesitation, situating himself so he could face you. He tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

You let a few beats of silence fill the space between you.

“I don’t know how to tell you this…” You took a deep breath. “I’m not from here. From this world, universe, whatever.” You shook your head as if to shake away the confusion.

Saccharine blue eyes bore into yours, the depths of the galaxy and all its secrets hidden within them.

“I think you might understand it,” you explained slowly, “because you’re similar. You’re not from this time.”

Xavier’s body went rigid. Something changed in his eyes. They were hard. Protective. Powerful.

“How do you know that?” The softness seemed to melt away from his voice, giving way to something that demanded respect.

“The way I know that goes in hand with what I have to tell you,” you said quickly. “In my world, there was an… awareness of this one. But, it wasn’t really another world. It was— sort of a—”

“Stop beating around the bush and tell me.” You nearly flinched from the coldness in his tone, the way the trust lingering between you had seemingly disappeared. His shoulders slumped as he watched you draw back. “Continue, please,” he said quietly.

With a shaky breath, you obliged. “Where I’m from, this world was all a game.”

“A game?” Xavier’s gaze snapped to yours, brow furrowing slightly.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “It was a romance game. There was this Main Character that the player could sort of self insert into, and five Love Interests.”

Xavier nodded along with you. “This was all a game… and you know about me from this game?”

You carefully explained everything you could to Xavier. The plots, the Love Interests, all the past loves fated to be doomed. You were cautious when explaining the existence of the other men, but Xavier handled it better than you’d expected after glimpsing his jealousy.

“I sort of knew she had others, but,” he gave you a soft smile, “even if it was a game, that means that somehow, someplace, I succeeded. We were able to be together. That’s enough for me, I think.”

You swallowed, blinking back tears you felt forming. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” you whispered. “To find out it was all a game, I don’t think I’d handle it as well as you are.”

Xavier took your hand in his, soft and firm. “There’s not much for me to do about it, I’ve realized. You can only live with what you are given, and what you find. If this is what I’m given, I’ll take it. My love with her may have been made for a story, but it’s real to me.” He leaned back, angling his head up towards the sky. “If it’s all fake, then it’s a beautiful fantasy to live in. The stars alone are enough.”

Getting up front the table, you and Xavier fell back against the grass, hand in hand. The earth cradled your bodies as the soft blades of grass caressed your bare skin. Stars painted the night sky, swirls of blues and purples highlighting the soft glow of distant plants and constellations.

“If you’re the only real thing I’ve known,” Xavier said slowly, reverently, “I think I can accept that. Knowing the real you is honor enough, even in a world that’s only a facade. Your presence is the only reality I need.”

You laughed softly, and he closed his eyes, seeming to bask in the sound. “I’m honored to know you, Xavier. Knowing you, really knowing you, is better than I imagined.” You sighed wistfully. “You’re so certain, so quietly confident. I feel so lost, but it seems you always know your way.”

“The best way to find direction is by the North Star,” he whispered. “Sometimes, you can find that in another person. I think I’ve found my North Star in you.”

comments and reblogs appreciated and asks open! <3

masterlist

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sqgeism · 17 days ago

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WAIT HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE ONES WHERE LIKE THE CHILD(REN) LIKE DISRESPECT (?) THE MOTHER (READER) IN FRONT OF THE FATHER ???? LIKE JUST TO SEE THE REACTION

THAT WITH PHAINON!!!!! (and whoever else you like)

(I'm so sorry for spamming phainon reqs 💀)

love mail — 🍒 ⨾ this crashed mid posting and i had to re edit EVERYTHING. dont pmo.. just a collection of blurbs for phainon in my inbox so they're all done LOL hi if youre the person/people who requested this i was too lazy to make individual posts im saurrey o(T◇T o)

(fem reader)

if you and phainon had a child—and they disrespected you—he probably wouldn't take it all that seriously. especially if he can tell if it's just to get a reaction out of him.

aits the little one down, one to one talk. tries to act tough but is so gentle with his scolding that it's funny, "don't ever say that stuff to your mama, alright?" while ruffling their hair. "if you do, i'll have no choice but to take away your cereal. yep, AND the building blocks too. no one talks to my wife that way, not even you."

although in a hypothetical situation where his child genuinely DOES respect angel, he's much firmer, strict. his sweet tone is gone and is playing NO games. ❌️ "you think cause you're big now, means you have the right to treat your mom like that? no way. absolutely not. better sort yourself out before i have to do it myself." he will NEVER have a child that holds any disrespect for their parents. he's locked in

phainon would LOVE it if you were gentle. like on everybodys soul. he'd kill to just be able to fall into your arms and be cared for and pampered for the rest of thw day. his killer combo is the "you okay, baby?", while resting on your lap, and your hands in his hair. BOOM. he's dead.

the next 6 hours are for you and phainon ONLY, mainly with him whining about how even if he's literally pressed up against you that he can never truly be close enough. he wants all of you, every inch and every part. he just wants to be all over you i fear </3

and shy? oh he loves it. totally a tease, going back to what i said earlier, he wants to be aaalll over you. probably likes to squeeze your waist just to feel you jump against him, it's his favorite reaction. and he doesn't mind the fact that he probably leads most of the conversation, but he loves to hear you speak. there's this air of grace yet humility to it that he can't get enough of.

absolutely smitten, i say. every and any version of his angel.

clumsy in the more hurtful type, phainon's probably the same. he likes to joke that it makes you two interlinked, 'sharing the pain' he says. but he also makes a great effort to stop you from bumping into things, keeping his hand on your head when you go underneath tables, pulling you away if you're about to run into something, all of that. he's probably just more cautious, and definitely makes sure to leave the big *sword he carries around at home when he's visiting.

'healing kisses' are also a pretty big thing he does, but it's really just an excuse to kiss you. he'll bandage you up and kiss the wounded area a couple of times to 'heal' you, and you play along with his little antics because you love him and it's cute. and what other reasons do you need when it comes to phainon?

(the wording kind of confused me 💔? sorry anon!)

he laughs, but not mockingly, as it's mostly in awe. he thinks you look great! not much of a difference, so he wonders why you make your life intentionally harder by not wearing them. makes sure to reassure you that you look perfect no matter what you choose to wear, but definitely suggests going back to using your glasses. he doesn't really care either way LMAO but please wear your glasses 💔

yeah, he probably would. flops ontop of you when hes exhausted and falls asleep a lot. probably wouldnt flirt with a blahaj, even if it was you, but he isn't leaving you to fend for yourself so i guess that's something!

i could see phainon being a kid with horrible acne, just the worst when he was a teenager. so if you're insecure about yours, he totally understands that. he offers a skincare routine that will hopefully help, ease the pain, stuff like that. but also he just thinks you're beautiful regardless to how your skin makes you feel. and when you don't love yourself, that just means phainon has to love you harder. which he reaaaally doesn't struggle in doing.

he is also very careful with touch! making sure to always have clean hands to hopefully not worsen the acne or anything like that, always trying to help you feel confident.

#ㅤ 𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ㅤnew flower bloomed ! :ೃ࿔𔓘 #sigh #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #phainon hsr x reader #phainon x reader #phainon x you

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jjkamochoso · 5 months ago

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hii im so glad your requests are open, ive had this idea for a while and couldnt wait until you opened them

since you wrote about both jjk men and reader describing their type my idea is that maybe before reader and jjk men got together reader had to describe their type and reader described something totally different from jjk men lol (maybe it was before they even became friends) and men find out and get insecure so reader has to comfort them

Oh my gosh I love this!!! Thanks for sending this request in, I had an awesome time writing it!! I hope you enjoy🫶❤️

JJK Men When Your Type Was Something Totally Different From Them

Very Light Angst, Fluff

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

You and your boyfriend were sitting at a table in a cafe one day, enjoying drinks and each other’s company, when all of a sudden the serene atmosphere was shattered.

“Oh my god! Y/n, it’s been so long!”

A friend you hadn’t seen in a few years greeted you excitedly as you invited them to sit at your table.

“I can’t stay long, I have an appointment to get to,” they said as they eyed your boyfriend and smirked. “Who’s this?”

You introduced your friend to your boyfriend and they exchanged pleasantries. You and your friend then caught up for a bit until they checked the time on their phone.

“Seriously, two look really cute together,” your friend said, giving you a tight hug goodbye as they readied to take their leave. “Although, y/n, isn’t it funny how your type changed? I remember you told me awhile ago, when you were single, that you were into…”

Yuji:

“…super tall guys with black hair. Real dark, mysterious types.”

After your friend had left the cafe, Yuji was sporting a frown where a smile usually rested.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he replied, pushing the food around his plate with his spoon.

“You’re not very convincing, Itadori,” you teased, poking his arm softly.

“Do you think I’m cute?” he blurted out, taking you by surprise.

“Of course I do,” you responded, dumbfounded. “Why would you think otherwise?”

“Your friend,” he said, “they said your type is the total opposite of me.”

“Yuji, the last time I talked to them was three years ago. I hadn’t met you yet.”

Yuji looked up from his food, his face immediately brightened. “Really? Does that mean you’ve changed your mind since then? Because of me?”

“Yep, the only type I have is my fun loving, big hearted boyfriend Yuji Itadori, I promise,” you told him, leaving a kiss on his grinning cheek.

Megumi:

“…carefree boys with light colored hair and eyes.”

When your friend had gone and it was just you and Megumi again at your table, you noticed a change in his mood.

"Is something bothering you?"

"No," Megumi replied sharply, causing your extending hand to retreat back to your side of the table, not wanting to bother him. He sighed. "I just... why are you with me?"

Your eyebrows raised in shock. "Why would you ask that?"

"I'm not affectionate, I don't know what I'm doing in a relationship. I'm not even your type." He whispered the last sentence, his eyes burning a hole through his coffee mug.

"Oh Megumi, ignore my friend. The last time I've brought up anything with them that had to do with crushes or "types" was years ago, long before I laid eyes on you. I love you because you're you and I wouldn't want you any other way."

"I guess I could try being more carefree if you want," he mumbled, his cheeks turning a pale pink.

"I could sooner see you bleaching your hair," you replied, laughing softly as Megumi sent an annoyed look your way.

Yuta:

“…overly confident boys with blonde hair."

"Geez, I guess I'm not your type at all, then, huh?" Yuta wondered when your friend was out of sight, anxiously picking at his jacket sleeve.

"You weren't my type three years ago when I talked to my friend last, no," you replied, not wanting to lie to him, "but that doesn't matter. You're absolutely my type now. I don't think there's a boy more handsome or perfect for me than you are."

Yuta's face sported a red tint from him blushing at your words. "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do, my love," you said, leaning over the table and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, leaving him more flustered still.

Inumaki:

“…guys who were super talkative and tall.”

Right as your friend left your table, you watched as Toge pulled his phone out.

"Let me stop you right there," you said, gently guiding the phone from his hands to the table, spying the dreaded, "I'm sorry I can't talk to you, you deserve more" note you knew he had already started typing. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me and I don't want you to ever forget that. What my friend said, that was my type years ago, way before I knew a guy like you existed. I couldn't ask for a better boyfriend than you."

Toge blinked slowly at you before picking his phone back up.

"You better be erasing that original message because you know I don't care that you can't really speak," you said sternly, earning a meek thumbs up from the boy sitting across from you. When he passed his phone back over to you, you couldn't help the laugh that escaped your throat as you read what he wrote.

While we're out, should I buy a pair of high heels?

Noritoshi:

“…extremely tall, tan, and muscular men.”

“Great. That sounds just like Todo,” grumbled Noritoshi after your friend left, taking a sip of his tea.

“I didn’t even know him back then,” you replied, ignoring the urge to roll your eyes at his jealousy. “Sure, I had a type, but that doesn’t mean I have to stick with it. You’re the most handsome man I know and you look nothing like that.”

“Do you promise I look nothing like Todo?” questioned Noritoshi, stifling a laugh.

“I swear.”

He gave you a gentle squeeze of your hand. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Todo:

“…skinny, short, pale guys.”

"That's definitely not what you said when I asked your type," Aoi said, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"I can't believe my friend brought that up," you groaned. "Back then, yeah, I was into super thin guys, but that all changed a few years later, right before I met you."

"Are you sure all my muscles don't bother you?" he teased, flexing his arm as he reached across the table to caress your cheek.

Your face warmed at his gesture. "I'm sure," you choked out, "but I wouldn't be opposed to you showing off your arms more often just so I can be 100% positive."

Aoi let out a hearty laugh as you sank further into your seat, flustered by your handsome boyfriend.

Ino:

“…super buff guys with dark hair.”

Ino kept his focus on his drink for a long time after your friend had spilled those details about you, obviously bothered that he looked nothing like that.

"Hey," you said after agonizing minutes of silence, "please don't take that to heart, that was my type a long time ago."

Ino looked up at you with an expression akin to a kicked puppy. "But has it changed? If I'm not your type... why would you want to be with me?"

"Ino," you said, standing up from your side of the booth and sliding into his, "I wouldn't date you if I didn't find you handsome. You are so kind and loving, and I think you're the absolute hottest guy on the planet. Maybe even the universe."

He dramatically pulled his beanie over his face as he dropped his head into his hands. "Now I have to compete with dark haired, shredded aliens?!"

Consoling him took much longer than anticipated!

Gojo:

“…quiet, short guys with facial hair.”

Satoru couldn't hold back his reaction when he heard that.

"That's your type?" he asked, shaking with laughter. "What the hell are you doing with me, then?"

"Satoru, stop," you pleaded, clearly embarrassed. "The last time I saw that friend was years ago. I was a whole different person."

"Do you not find me pretty?" he pouted, jutting out his bottom lip and batting his eyelashes.

"You're the prettiest man I've ever had the privilege to meet," you responded, playfully tapping his nose with your finger. "It would be interesting to see you with a mustache or something though."

You both got quiet, imagining what Satoru would look like with facial hair.

"Sorry I ever brought that up," you said.

"Blegh!" he replied, sticking his tongue out. "You owe me another pastry later because I lost my appetite picturing that."

Geto:

“…men with light hair and soft facial features.”

Your friend had walked away, leaving Suguru to mull over their words.

"Am I too... sharp for you, darling?" he asked, trying to joke but was clearly affected.

"That was my type forever ago, Suguru," you told him, earnestly taking hold of his hand that was resting on the tabletop. "You've been the only man for me ever since I met you. No one can compare to your beauty."

"Hmm," he mused, taking a slow sip of his drink, "I must say I enjoy hearing you praise me in such a way. All is forgiven."

"Good. I will love only you for the rest of my days, no matter how many round faced, blonde haired men try to whisk me away."

You witnessed his fingers tighten around the tea cup in his grasp. "I'd like to see them try."

Nanami:

“…men with long, dark hair and blue eyes.”

You paid no mind to your friend's words, knowing they were just reminiscing over something silly before they left. Kento, on the other hand, was busy spiraling as he ate his croissant.

"Everything okay?" you asked him, noticing the faraway look in his eyes.

“Do you not… find me attractive?”

You almost spit out your drink in shock. "I'm sorry?"

He wore a sheepish expression. "Your friend said that your type was men with long, dark hair and blue eyes. I don't fit that description at all."

"My "type" that they brought up was from many, many years ago," you said, rubbing your thumb against his hand to console him. "The only thing I find attractive now, after having met you, is a certain Kento Nanami. Brown eyes, short blonde hair, and all."

"I'm sorry for getting worked up over nothing," he said.

"You don't have to apologize for that," you told him, "it just shows how much you truly care. I love you for that."

You gave him a small peck on the lips before you two went back to savoring your time together.

Choso:

“…super preppy guys with blonde hair and green eyes.”

The only thing that ran through Choso's mind was confusion.

"I don't look anything like that," he uttered suddenly, tilting his head.

"I know, I was into those kinds of guys years ago," you confessed.

"But not anymore?" he asked with a hopeful lilt in his tone.

"Not anymore," you confirmed, sending him a small smile to ease his nerves that were noticeably running rampant at the thought that you didn't find him attractive. "My type now is guys with dark hair in two buns and an adorable black mark across their nose."

Choso let out a relieved sigh as you giggled and continued eating your food.

Toji:

“…short men with long blonde hair.”

As soon as your friend got up from the table, Toji had a disgruntled expression on his face. "Care to add anything to that?"

"I liked guys who looked like that when I talked to my friend last, which was, admittedly, a very long time ago," you explained, getting a grunt of displeasure in response. "And then I met you and I realized what my actual type was."

"And what's that?" he asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

You leaned in over the table, getting as close as you could to your handsome boyfriend.

"A real man," you all but whispered, eyeing him playfully. Toji's eyes widened ever so slightly before falling back into place, his lips transforming to a smirk.

"Sounds like your friend had it all wrong, then," he replied, winking at you.

#yuji itadori x reader #megumi x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #inumaki x reader #noritoshi kamo x reader #aoi todo x reader #takuma ino x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x gn!reader #jjk x y/n

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guppybibi · 13 days ago

Text

In honor of father's day (i speedran this i gove ip this is so bad so im gonna curl up and go back to a depressive state)

TF141 Family Shenanigans

John Price

When he notices that his darling dove wasn't next to him when he woke up, a confused frown appears on his face. The sense of familiarity in this routine he had with you made him forget what day it even was.

He gets himself ready, brushing his teeth and deciding his scruffy beard looked presentable enough. Heading downstairs, he could hear the commotion his twin sons were making.

The little tykes were stressing their mother out, weren't they? The thought of it made him smile, he wasn't getting tired of them anytime soon.

“Happy Father's Day!” You and your sons greet, surprising John with slightly burnt pancakes. “Made some breakfast for you. Me and the little tykes already ate.” You tell, placing a kiss on his cheek before his gaze falls onto his kids, faces smeared with syrup and smushed blueberries.

Yep, they definitely ate already.

“Thank you, luvie.” He tells, letting you guide him and the tykes towards the kitchen. The cheeky monkeys were getting quicker on their feet by the day.

Breakfast goes smoothly, except John feels like a piece of pancake got stuck in his throat when you lean closer to his ear and whisper.

“The kids are gonna go stay at their Nan’s.”

Oh, this was going to be a great day.

Kyle Garrick

“Stay for a while longer, hun..” Kyle mumbles, pulling you closer to him by your waist. Everything was peaceful this morning, a perfect start to Father's Day. No baby girl crying, just the sound of birds chirping outside.

“Our poppet is still out like a light, we can sleep in..” He tried to convince you further, and it was working. What? You were just giving the dad what he wanted on a special day.

“Mmph…Fine.” You grumble, acting like you were all bothered about it. Kyle only chuckles, still chasing sleep. Until a wailing cry pierces both your ears, it looks like sleeping in wasn't an actual option.

“Little rascal reminding me I’m a dad, isn't it?”

Simon Riley

“Good morning, Si..Happy Father's Day.” You mumble sleepily, eyes barely open while you try to rub the sleep out of them.

You roll over to his side of the bed, only to realize he wasn't there at all. He must've gotten up early, as always..You really gotta up your game.

When you get yourself ready and walk through the door, you could already hear the father daughter duo rumbling about something.

You head down the stairs silently, peeking and listening in to their conversation.

“You really like those berries, don't you, sweetheart?” Simon asks, nodding while his daughter munches on the mixed pile of mushed on her plate.

Unfortunately for you, Simon has the senses of a hawk so you couldn't eavesdrop for any while longer.

“Happy Father's Day, Si.” You squeak, snapping out of your mind when you realize he was just staring back at you with a smile. He simply shook his head, waving it off dismissively.

“Wouldn't have been a father if it weren't for you, don't need all that celebration nonsense.”

Johnny MacTavish

“You can do anything you want for Father's Day—”

“I wanna give our bairn a mohawk.”

He answers, no hesitation in his eyes. Seriously? Out of everything he could've gotten on his special day?

“What? Johnny you are not giving our child a mohawk, it looks like a goddamn handle bar on someone's head.” You try to refuse, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“But you said anything—” Then he goes on for the next few minutes about the supposed advantages and benefits of getting a mohawk.

Okay, you give up.

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