#God her trailing off at the end that ‘you’ll find me’ like I know this can mean so many things but ZACK DID FIND HER

[heavenlyascent]

I understand story-wise why he wasn't in the Lifestream crowd when Aerith sang No Promises to Keep but my God I could see her looking for Zack’s face somewhere. Especially if this IS after she found out from Tifa that he might have drowned five years before.

Making me wish he’d burst open the doors just to see the end of her song and be waiting in the crowd for her with lilies.

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: sweet baby boy drew whos willing to help u, nothing else rly

one | two | three | four | five

authors note: i wanted to give it a sort of “the proposal” / “anyone but you” type of feel !! this is obviously going to be a series so let me know if u want to be added to the tag list from now on so u dont miss an update ! <3

your body freezes in place when you’re asked about the wedding. crap, you forgot. but it isn’t like you received any invite.

“theo sent you an invite through the mail. you got it right?” your friend, leila, asks you. leila and her fiancé theo have been your friends for years now, ever since you met leila during a movie priemere and shared respect on each other's careers. she’s been your closest friend, so theo naturally had to come along too.

“what? yeah,” you lie right through your teeth, and guilt punches you in the face when you stare right into her bright eyes. you raise the cup of coffee. “was literally jumping for joy when i got it.”

leila sighs in relief. “thank god we got the right address,” she says and you question what she means by that before she continues, “we didn’t know whether to send it to your apartment or drew’s.”

your breath is caught and you pause before your drink reaches your lips.

“drew,” you repeat, and she nods.

“yeah, but we figured you’ll both see it either way so, sent it to his place ‘cause theo said it was closer,” leila says, and you raise your eyebrows in amusement. “but anyway! before the wedding, i wanted to stay with our inner circle so if it’s possible for a little two-week vacation? the venue is close to my mom and her boyfriend’s house so we’d just be staying there. i would’ve picked after the wedding if theo didn’t already have the honeymoon planned. he’s too excited.”

“wait, two weeks?” you inquire, “who’s coming?”

she shrugs, “you and drew, libby, gia . . .” she trails off as she thinks about it, and you swallow as you set your cup down. “i forgot who else. i know it’s one of theo’s coworkers but i forgot who. let me text him actually.”

your face lights up at the opportunity to get away, and you nod. “i need to call drew actually,” you say, and she smiles and nods as you stand from your seat and make your way to her living room. “need to remind him to take the . . . fish . . . out.”

“fish?”

“we’re having fish tonight, yeah.”

you turn away to scroll through your contacts until you find his, then click on it. you settle down on the couch as you wait anxiously for him to pick up, and just hope that he does.

just before the call goes to voicemail, the line clears. “yeah?”

“you are such a—!” you hiss quietly, careful not to let leila hear you. “why didn’t you tell me leila and theo sent you a wedding invite for us?”

“i literally just checked my mail, alright? i would’ve said something about it as soon as i saw it,” he tells you. “i just flew in two days ago, y/n. i’m at the . . . i’m not at my apartment right now but my mail’s all on my counter. i’ll look for it once i’m home and then send you pictures of it, okay?”

you know that your situation with drew is slightly complicated. you were together for five years before ending things just a year ago.

because of your careers, you aren’t surprised that people assume you’re still dating. even close friends like leila and theo. everything was kept private. a year into the relationship was when fans even found out about you two.

you both have been looking for a time to address the breakup, to friends first for sure, but with your conflicting schedules, the time’s just never come up, and sending a “by the way, we broke up” text to an imessage groupchat wasn’t totally ideal.

even with the wedding coming up, having to be around everyone while you celebrate your closest friends, how are you either of you supposed to bring it up now?

“okay,” you tell him. “just text me when you’re free. any time before 10, please.”

“okay,” drew’s voice is soft and understanding. the line goes dead and you pull your phone away from your ear, seeing that he’s hung up.

your expected text comes around 8pm. drew’s sent you four different attachments. all are photos of the elaborate and detailed wedding invitation. the designs must’ve been leila’s idea.

you’re surprised to see an incoming call on your laptop right after. you hover over the accept button, then click on it.

his face fills a rectangle of your screen. he’s on his phone—“do you see it?”

“yeah wait,” you mumble, clicking out of the facetime to open your messages with him, then click the first photo. “leila and theo; rsvp by september twenty-seventh.”

“the letter’s addressed to my place but they put our names on the envelope,” drew tells you, and it looks like he’s ruffling through something before he flips his camera to display his counter. on it is the envelope in question, which is addressed to his apartment, but for y/n and drew, it says.

you hum. “are you going?” you ask him.

“of course i’m going. what do you mean?”

you shake your head, “nothing.”

drew only knows of leila or theo because of you, because leila works with you. maybe he’s made friends with theo but it’s not something you’ve personally seen, so you’re just assuming that maybe since you’ve broken up, there’s no reason for him to go? especially when he’s filming soon?

you stare down at your keyboard as you speak again, “leila wants us to come on a two-week pre-stay with her and theo. and others.”

there’s a brief pause from drew, like he doesn’t understand.

you sense it immediately and continue. “like, before the wedding, she told me today about how her mom has his house she wants us to stay in, just a few of us for two weeks, then they have her wedding— i don’t know, i need to ask her more about it. i think she just wants to fly everyone out and spend more time with us before she’s on honeymoon and living the wife life.”

“could be fun,” drew says. “i mean, i can’t even remember the last time i was out with theo or leila. it might be good for us.”

you furrow your eyebrows at him through the screen, and you try to read him to see if he’s joking. “there is no more ‘us’, remember? and by the way, neither leila or theo or anybody else knows that.”

drew hesitates as if he’s trying to justify your situation.

you rub your eye before resting the side of your head against your fist, “they addressed the invitation to both of us, drew. i feel like we should at least tell them the truth so that when we get there, they know.”

drew hesitates, his eyes moving around as if searching for the right words. “yeah, i know. it’s just . . . complicated.”

“complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you say, feeling frustration build up. “it just feels dishonest. they think we’re still together, and if they find out at the wedding, it’ll look like we’re hiding things.”

“we are hiding things,” he reminds you. “we’ve been avoiding the topic. do you really want to drop this bomb on them right before their wedding?”

you go silent as you think about it, because if telling them isn’t a good option then . . .

“what if we just kept up the appearance that we’re still together?” drew suggests. it draws your attention as you look up at your laptop. “for the wedding and the pre.”

you blink, taken aback. “what do you mean?”

“i mean,” drew continues, “what if we act like we’re still together while we’re there? it might make things easier for everyone. seeing us apart will just create tension. people will feel like they’ll need to walk on eggshells around us.”

you give him a skeptical look. “acting like a couple isn’t the same as actually being one. i’m not sure i can just pull it off without it feeling fake.”

“we’re not faking,” drew says gently. “we’re just playing a part for a bit. we’re professionals. it’s literally our job. we can do this for a few days.”

you pause, considering his words. “but what if it just makes things worse? what if pretending just complicates everything?”

drew’s expression softens, and he speaks more earnestly. “look, we’ve been in tough spots before. there’s been so many times on set with you and i before that we’ve had to navigate headfirst. this is no different. think of it as a role we have to play for a short time. it doesn’t change what’s real.”

you sit back, processing his suggestion. “so we fake it for now and deal with the truth later?”

he hums. “it’s not ideal, but it could save a lot of awkwardness and stress. we can be civil and supportive for their sake, and then handle everything after.”

you let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the decision. “it just feels like a lot of work to keep up a pretense. but i guess if we’re going to do this, we need to at least figure out how to make it believable.”

“we’ll figure it out,” drew says, his voice a little more hopeful. “it’s not about being perfect. it’s just about getting through the weeks without making things worse.”

you nod slowly, still feeling uneasy but recognizing the practicality of his idea. “okay. pretend for leila and theo, and then deal with the fallout afterwards.”

there’s a faint smile on his face as he nods at you. “just two weeks, remember? we can do that,” he says. “i’m gonna head to bed. i’ll talk to you tomorrow about it, alright?”

“okay,” you murmur, and drew hangs up on you.

the facetime window closes and displays your last app that’s been open, your messages. you’re face-to-face with the photos of the invitations once more, and a part of you is overwhelmed with emotions—fear, excitement, guilt.

two weeks. that’s all it is. just two weeks with your ex-boyfriend. you can survive that . . .

right?

[californ1asnow]

Needy

Mike Schmidt x reader

blurb, smut without any satisfaction. MxF (F receiving). Thigh riding?? 18+

send in requests for anything similar

word count: 694

Mike Schmidt has a thing for making you flustered.

He’s not sure when or how it happened but all he knows is that he’s got to be careful whenever you’re both in public, in case things might get too out of hand.

Like right now.

It’s Halloween night and Abby is staying over with her friend, which meant you and Mike were able to go out and party. A rare occasion considering the fact that the two of you were always watching her.

You were invited by a mutual acquaintance and had convinced Mike the day before to come with you, beckoning him with a night off and free alcohol. What he didn’t realize was how revealing your outfit would be, and how turned on it would make him.

You’re wearing a black jumpsuit with a low cut V-neck, purple cape, and heels tall enough that accentuated the long curves of your legs. Your hips are robust in comparison to the tight suit, giving your figure a nice look. And by god is Mike all but crumbling at the sight of you.

Maybe it’s the outfit or maybe it’s all the alcohol he’s consumed, either way he doesn’t care, he knows he needs you tonight. Right now.

That’s how you’ve ended up flush against the wall of a random stranger’s bedroom. Hands digging aggressively into the flesh of your hips, his lips are pressed hot against yours. You grasp wildly at the buckle of his jeans, pleading for them to come off.

He mumbles into your ear about something unimportant, most likely suggesting the two of you should get home. A shaky breath escapes him after you pull his hips closer into your own.

“Can’t,” you whisper back, voice deep with lust, “I can’t wait until then.”

“Fuck it,” he says, voice stern. Hot, calloused hands travel down the length of your back, tracing the curve of your ass, before pulling you up and around his waist. Without breaking contact with your swollen lips, he moves to make his way to the nearby bed.

Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every touch he makes. The rapid rise and fall of your chest with each excited breath causes you to shiver. Mike’s lips trail down the side of your jaw, peppering wet, open mouthed kisses across your skin.

Your jumpsuit and his shirt sit forgotten together in a pile on the floor. Only your underwear and his jeans separating both bodies.

You grind your hips as deeply as you can against his clothed boner, enticing a moan out of the both of you. He’s attached to your neck, sucking hard enough to surely leave a dark bruise for the next day. The whimper that escapes your throat is breathy, a sign of how needy you are for his touch.

“Shh baby girl,” he hushes, “no one can know we’re in here.” He mumbles against your skin, a low groan following as he presses you further into his hips.

Your clothed folds rub sickeningly slowly against him, causing you to whine for more friction. Mike takes note of the needy sound, and strips you free from the fabric. His hands grab at the sides of your waist, gently rocking you to a steady rhythm against him.

The rigid feeling of denim against your sensitive clit is enough to drive you crazy. Your stomach twists with the budding sensation of your first orgasim. The pleasure starts to wrack your body, but before you’re able to fully relish in it someone knocks at the door.

Mike hurriedly, but gently, pushes you off of him and collects his shirt. You find a spot to hide and he opens the door, greeting the person standing behind it. He hopes the person is too intoxicated to notice the wet spot you left on his thigh from your near orgasim. They exchange a few words before Mike convinces them to leave, and soon he’s back by your side.

“‘M sorry princess,” he mumbles against your lips, “let me make it up to you.”

You’ll realize the next day how hoarse your voice would be from moaning his name all night.

[houseofripley]

HII

Could you write a rhea x fem!reader where they are at a scare house with a bunch of friends and reader is a big scaredy-cat and clings onto rhea the whole time and all of them end up in a maze but rhea and reader get lost and separated from the group and reader is terrified so rhea tried to cheer her up with some make-out time and hugging and reassurance(maybe some smut there or when they get back home🤷‍♀️)

Scared?

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, Publix Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Mommy Kink

WORD COUNT: 1,613

A/N: I AM ALIVE SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING!!!! im on spring back so hopefully i'll actually have some freetime now

“No wait, I don’t think I can do it,” you jittered, your anxieties shaking through your body as you stood next in line to enter a dingy barn that was quite literally in the middle of nowhere.

After weeks of begging your partner Rhea to be the hugh hefner to your playboy bunny she agreed under one condition; that you’d go to the scare attraction she had been talking about non-stop. At first you were ready to scrap your matching costume idea altogether but after some reassurance from Rhea that your friends would be there you reluctantly agreed. 

“You are not backing out on us now!” Your friends started throwing playful teases at you.

“Don’t be a wimp, it won’t even be that bad,” 

Rhea wrapped her arm around your waist as she added to the taunts, “My little scaredy-cat,”

“I am not a scaredy-cat! I just don’t like having clowns chase me with machetes,” you attempted to defend yourself.

“That’s totally something a scaredy-cat would say,”

The attendant at the entrance signaled for your group to enter the building. You let a few of your friends enter before hesitantly entering, making sure you were in the middle of the group. Stepping inside a thick layer of faux fog clouded your vision while strobe lights beamed through the hazed air. “I wanna go home,” you raised your voice so your group could hear you over the loud ambiance and scream of others further down the path. 

You braced your hands in front of you in self-defense as you made your way through a flashing corridor. Rounding the corner you were immediately jumpscared by a bloodied woman hopping through a curtain, making you back up into Rhea as you let out a scream. 

Rhea let out a laugh as one of her hands took grip of your waist, giving the skin a light squeeze. “I got you,” Rhea chuckled as she spoke just loud enough for you to hear her. 

Your group of friends continued through the scenes of the attraction with plenty of jumpscares and many more screams before eventually being chased out of the building into the second half of the attraction, a haunted corn maze. 

You hesitantly followed your bunch of friends on the paths, your hand clinging to Rhea’s. It wasn’t long until your crowd was deep into the maze. By the time your eyes had hardly adjusted to the darkness you were soon caught off guard by a group of actors emerging from the corn stalks, causing you to dart further into the field.

“Oh my god I can’t see anything,” you yelled, too focused on running away from the bloodied men, you and Rhea wound up split from your group getting lost along the trail.

-

It had been fifteen minutes since the two of you last saw your friends and ten minutes since a scare actor popped up, your nerves were growing by the second knowing it was only a matter of time before another actor would find you. The grip you had on Rhea’s hand had to have been cutting off her circulation at that point. 

“Look at me, pretty girl,” Rhea spoke, her tone of voice was soft, “you’ll always be safe with me, you know that I’d never let anyone touch you,” she assured. You couldn’t help but look up at her with a soft smile, her reassurance sending ease to your foggy mind.

Rhea’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug before she dropped her lips against yours. You melted into her embrace as you squeezed your hands around her stiffened biceps. 

“As much as I’d love to kiss you forever, I’d love to get out of this damn maze as soon as possible,” you giggled, pulling back from her lips after a moment before continuing your way through the trails.

-

“We’re never making it out of here alive,” you pouted, throwing your head back realizing you were caught in yet another dead end. You were caught off guard by the feeling of a set of hands grabbing you from behind and pulling you back against their body, causing a shriek to leave your mouth..

“You’re so sexy when you’re scared, all tensed up,” Rhea quietly chuckled into your ear. “plus that little outfit making you all vulnerable isn’t helping your case,” she added, her teeth nipping at your earlobe while her arms pulling your back further against her chest.

“Not funny Rhe’,” you whined. Although your body relaxed knowing you were in the safety of Rhea’s arms, your heartbeat was still stuck in your throat, the thrill of Rhea’s sudden instigating had already begun forming a puddle in between your legs.

Rhea let out a breathy chuckle as she placed a kiss below your ear, “did you really think I’d be able to control myself when you look like that?” she murmured, her hands trailed to the bust of your strapless bodysuit.

“Mm- no but I assumed you’d have enough self control to wait till we got home,” your giggle soon turned into a quiet gasp as Rhea quickly flipped the bust of your outfit down, revealing your chest to the brisk air. Her hands glided to cup your breasts as her lips connected to the crook of your neck. Her fingers took hold of your nipple, rolling the flesh between her digits causing a hitched curse to leave your mouth. 

Rhea soon guided your body face hers, a satisfied smirk painted across her lips as she bent down and took your nipple into her mouth. Her knee found itself separating your legs causing a whimper to escape your mouth as her knee pushed up against your needy heat.

“Rhe’, we might get caught,” you whispered, your hands reaching to grab Rhea’s face, a grin creeping onto her lips as you pulled her face up to yours.

“Oh baby,” Rhea murmured, trailing her hand down the length of your bodysuit, “that’s the fun part,” she added before quickly yanking the fabric covering your core to the side. You sucked in a harsh breath, a shiver running through your body as the bitter autumn air hit your slicked heat.

“No panties? Naughty girl,” Rhea clicked her tongue as her finger slipped across your wetness, gathering your juices on her finger, “look at you, all soaked for Mami,” she hummed before taking her finger into her mouth, sucking your juices from her skin.

Rhea brought herself to her knees before you, her cobalt eyes twinkling in the moonlight as they trailed up your body, silently asking for permission. Although a quickie in a corn maze was definitely not in your Halloween plans, Rhea's mouth was nearly always impossible to resist. Once you nodded your head in approval she began peppering soft kisses to your inner thighs, leaving you whining at the sensation of her warm lips against your chilled flesh.

“Such a brave girl for me,” Rhea quietly praised, tossing one of your legs onto her shoulder, “I think you deserve a treat,” locking eyes with you she flattened her tongue against your cunt. She licked a wide stripe up your wetness, humming at the taste of your arousal. Your hand found itself tangled in her hair, pulling at the jet-black strands as her pierced tongue began rounding your clit. 

You chewed at the insides of your cheeks, hoping to stifle your whines when Rhea’s tongue sank into your heat. Quiet hums of approval escaped from Rhea as her tongue prodded with your entrance, her nose pressed against your clit. 

Rhea’s mouth returned to lapping circles around your bundle of nerves while her pointer finger snuck into your hole. Your abdomen tensed in reaction to her finger rhythmically pumping into your tightness. Faint whines echoed from the back of your throat as Rhea’s tongue worked alongside her finger that toyed with your aching core.

It wasn’t long until a second finger dipped inside of you, resulting in a whined “Fuck,” to escape your throat. Rhea’s tongue stayed focused on tracing shapes over your clit, her eyes still gazing up at you, clearly enjoying the sight of you losing control over her touch.

The adrenaline of knowing there was a possibility of someone rounding the corner and catching the two of you only fueled Rhea’s gestures. Your eyelids squeezed shut at the sensation of her fastened pace, 

“Mami,” you threw your free hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your moans, “oh- fuck Mami,” you whimpered, bucking your hips against Rhea’s face, your climax rapidly approaching.

The curling of Rhea’s digits as they pumped into you initiated your orgasm. Muffled moans left your mouth as your climax washed over you, releasing all the tension that sat inside your stomach onto Rhea’s fingers. 

Rhea assisted you in riding out your peak before retracing her fingers from your insides. She brought herself back to her feet, licking her fingers clean, the remnants of your slick coating her chin. “Better than any Halloween candy I’ve had,” she praised under her breath.

“How sweet, but please get me out of here,” you giggled out of breath, playfully rolling your eyes as you adjusted your costume.

You hopped onto Rhea’s back after gladly accepting a piggyback ride from her. Rhea successfully guided the both of you through the rest of the maze, thankfully making it out with minimal scares.

“Jesus, what took you guys so long?” a friend questioned as Rhea carried you to your group of friends who were sat at a bench waiting for the pair of you to show up.

“It's a maze! We got lost!” you threw your hands up in self defense.

[writing-for-marvel]

Short of Breath

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 1 | Series Masterlist | PART 3 > >

Summary: You hear rumours about Bucky’s reputation within the hospital just prior to him taking you on a first date you’ll never forget.

Warnings: strictly 18+ only, oral (fem receiving), mentioned unprotected vaginal sex, some light angst (I mean it’s me, what do you expect?), Bucky having a reputation as a heartbreaker, but also him being super sweet and planning a very cute date, additional warning for my terrible flirty dialogue

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: square filled for @sebastianstanbingo ‘picnic date’ (shhh that’s meant to be a surprise), banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

‘Does 6:30 sound good? I’ll pick you up from the hospital lobby.’

Your stomach flutters with butterflies as your phone vibrates with a new message, the name Bucky bookended with blue hearts flashing in your notifications. An inexorable smile overcomes your features as you instantly message him back confirming your availability.

Gosh, when was the last time you were both this excited and nervous to go on a date?

“Well don’t you look smitten.” A friendly voice mentions from beside you. Wanda, a fellow resident and currently just about your only friend in your new workplace, leans against the lockers next to yours, gazing at you with raised brows, as if to silently ask why you’re so enamoured with whoever your messaging.

“I’ve got a date tomorrow night with an absolute beefcake.”

“Oh, is it that attending who’s been giving you all the good cases?” You stare down at your phone when it buzzes yet again, smiling when you notice Bucky has reacted to your message with a heart.

“No, it’s not Odinson.” A chuckle leaves your lips as Wanda frowns, almost looking disappointed it’s not a Thor you’re going out with.

“I always thought he was sexy, you know in a chiselled like a god with a gentle heart sort of way.” There’s a dreamy quality to her voice which makes you suspect she’s thought about having unethical relations in this hospital with him before. “Who is it then?”

“He’s a paramedic. I met him the other day when the train derailed. His name’s Bucky.” The joy you could perceive in Wanda’s eyes changes to something closer to dismay.

“Oh sweetie, you poor naive young thing.” You’re unsure why her voice is now filled with consolation, but it makes your chest tighten and the bottom of your stomach drop.

“What are you talking about?”

“Bucky Barnes has earned a bit of a reputation around this hospital.” You can sense in her voice she’s hesitant of revealing too much, trying to break the news gently to spare your feelings.

You aren’t an idiot, Bucky was quite clearly a natural flirt, that was evident from your interaction in the ER the other day, but by no means does that make him a bad person or someone to stay away from.

“He loves the chase. But that all ends the moment you sleep with him.” Wanda continues, discerning that she hasn’t provided enough information to convince you. “He’ll wine and dine you, and take you back to your place if you’re willing to put out on the first date. Then the only time you’ll see him again is across the room when he’s bringing patients into the ER.”

Your heart sinks below your stomach. You don’t want to believe petty rumours about someone you barely know, but it’s hard to look past the fact that someone as gorgeous and charming as Bucky isn’t already taken. Wanda also has no reason to lie to you, in fact, she’s likely the only person in the hospital you’d trust in this position.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience…” Your voice trails off, eyes trailing to the floor and out of the corner of your eye you see Wanda slump in response.

“Not me personally, but I’ve heard first hand stories from other doctors and nurses.” Her hand finds your shoulder in a reassuring touch. You must not be doing a good job of hiding the disappointment drowning your lungs. “Still go - at a minimum you’ll get laid. Just don’t get your hopes up that there will be anything beyond that. There is nothing wrong with you sweetie, no one gets a second date with Bucky Barnes.”

You shut your locker slowly, feeling completely demoralised compared to the swelling hope and joyful mood you had arrived at the hospital with.

Maybe you could be the one who changed him? Was that a foolish fantasy destined to end in heartbreak?

Determined to not let this piece of news ruin the rest of your day, you hold your head high as you start your rounds, heading firstly to see Sasha and her mom. Just because Bucky didn’t want more than a one night stand with some other hospital employees doesn’t mean it will be the same with you.

There was no denying you both felt something as you were patching him up earlier in the week. You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to figure out if that something is just attraction, or destined for so much more.

* * *

Fiddling with the ends of your dress, you stand waiting for Bucky in the hospital lobby, feeling more nervous than excited after your conversation with Wanda the previous day. Unsure about what Bucky had planned for the night, you chose to wear something you shined with confidence in, guessing that’s something the self assured Bucky Barnes would appreciate.

Trying to push any anxious thoughts to the back of your mind, you instead choose to remind yourself Bucky was the one who gave you his phone number, he’s the one who asked you on this date. He wants you.

Just prior to 6:30, before you’ve even had the chance to glance at your phone, anxious about if Bucky is actually going to show, you hear your name called across the foyer. Looking up, you find the most handsome, staggeringly beautiful man walking towards you and you swear your heart skips a beat.

The first thing you notice about Bucky's appearance is that trademark smirk you’d found yourself missing the past few days. That same grin which had your cheeks heating and butterflies fluttering in your stomach in the emergency room, elicits the same reaction now as he strides towards you in a blue button up which makes his eyes shine like sapphires.

“You clean up nice.” You comment, seizing the opportunity to take all of him in, to appreciate just how broad and strong he is, even in civilian clothes.

“Not as nice as you do.” Grabbing your hands out wide, he makes a show of looking you up and down as you had done with him, but instead much more conspicuously, and in a way that has confidence soaring in your chest. “You’re breathtaking.” This motherfucker knows exactly what he’s doing, you think as a bashful smile overtakes you’re features.

Bucky then pulls you in for a quick, friendly hug before leading you out to the carpark with the promise of taking you to a place you probably aren’t expecting to go for a first date.

He stops by a motorbike and offers you a helmet and his leather jacket, and for a split second you have to hold back laughter, thinking he is joking.

“You’re a paramedic, surely you know better than anyone how dangerous these things are!” You comment as Bucky straddles what you assume he refers to as his prize possession. You must admit it is a gorgeous motorcycle - polished to perfection, and Bucky somehow looks even more attractive with his thick thighs spread around the heavy bike.

“I promise to drive safely as long as you promise to hold on tight.” Bucky quips as you take the helmet and jacket. You’re going to be able to shamelessly feel more of him a lot earlier on in this date than you were expecting, but you’re certainly not mad about it.

You straddle the bike behind him, and though there is ample space for you to both fit, you snuggle close to his back, hands finding his hips to steady yourself as he starts the ignition. Once Bucky drives onto the main highway, you’re clinging tightly to his firm middle, fearful about the lack of a barrier between you and the unforgiving asphalt surface of the road.

Your anxiety is short lived as Bucky soon takes a turn to a part of town you’ve not been to before, and soon pulls over to a quiet, non-distinct park which you have to admit you aren’t expecting.

“This place is a hidden gem of this city, I love to come here to clear my head.” Bucky comments as he guides you past the trees and once you step foot into the clearing beyond, you can understand why he’s brought you here.

The riverbank overlooks the city skyline, with a perfect view of where the sun will be setting and the light warm orange and pink hues painting the night sky. Bucky gazes at you with a sweet smile, as you take in the scene, leading you over to a red and white chequered picnic blanket already set up to seat two, with a bottle of sparkling water and a basket of finger food ready to be consumed.

Damn, he really is going to a lot of effort for you.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?” You take a seat on the blanket, looking around to notice that you’re completely on your own. You’re unsure whether this fact should surprise you, if Bucky had a hand in ensuring that you’d have your privacy for your first date, or if it’s purely a happy coincidence.

“Well I am trying to impress you.”

“Eh, I think you could do better.” You jest, when in fact you admire how much effort he’s gone to for you. He loves the chase, Wanda’s words echo in your mind, and a small, hollow void in your chest feels jealous that the gorgeous Bucky Barnes has treated any number of other women to a comparable date.

“Well I haven’t kissed you yet, just you wait, you'll be putty in my hands.” He says with a pure faith which compels you to believe him, though also makes you wonder just how many other girls he’s kissed merely by using that same line.

“Confident, are we?”

“Once you kiss me, you won’t want to kiss anyone else, I promise you.” You’re positive that even just a single kiss from Bucky Barnes will have you addicted, if you aren’t already, which is why you take a sip of your sparkling water instead of leaning closer than your faces are already. Perhaps you’re a cynic, maybe you don’t want to open your heart to the prospect of being hurt, but you’re not going to just give into his charms within the first five minutes of this date because he’s cute and has a way with words.

“You’ll have to earn a kiss from me first, James.” You say but are met with a cheeky grin. He loves the chase, and you’re pretty sure this challenge is only adding more fuel to the fire of his motivation.

Conversation flows easily, the only silence between the two of you comfortable as you tried the diversity of foods Bucky had packed. Amid the shameless flirting, he asked you about your home, and what prompted your change of cities. He told you all about his childhood best friend Steve, who you could have mistaken for his brother with the pure love he spoke about him with.

The only question he wasn’t forthcoming with an answer was when you asked about why he became a paramedic. Though, you understand there are sensitive matters Bucky wouldn’t want to discuss with someone on a first date, so you don’t push the subject, choosing to instead change the topic to something where you know will bring out his contagious smile you’re quickly falling for.

As the sun sets, an ombré of vibrant oranges, reds and pinks decorates the sky, and you have the perfect view sitting on the riverbank opposite the city centre. You feel content, happy, and though the sight is gorgeous, you know it mostly has to do with the man sitting next to you.

“I can see why you like it here, this is beautiful.” You comment, eyes soaking in the stunning scene, noting this moment in the part of your brain that stores influential moments, those that you want to remember for a lifetime. However, you can sense Bucky’s attention beside you isn’t focussed where yours is as he speaks.

“I think I’ve got a better view right here.” You turn back to find Bucky looking at you with an affection you wouldn’t typically associate with someone sharing a first date, yet the undeniable fondness is there nonetheless. The softness and earnestness in his voice could fool you into thinking he truly does mean the sentiment, and it’s not just a pickup line.

“That’s so cheesy, Barnes. You take all your girls here at sunset and pull that line on them?” You immediately regret your choice of words - even if he had, you don’t want to know if he’s done all this for someone else, this moment between you feels special, magical, and you’d rather believe the tale that you’re the only one he’s shared this with.

“Nope, not a single one.” His voice is low and honest, with a level of desperation to make you believe him. “And even if I had, I’d have never meant it more.” His hand tenderly cups your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek, as you lean into him. The warmth his touch provides welcome in the cooling night.

“You really are something else, aren’t you James?” There’s a flicker in his features when you refer to him by his first name, an indication that you're not joking as you do when you use his last name or sometimes the adorable childhood nickname he’s known to everyone else by, rather, he knows you’re being authentic.

“I think that’s you, darling.” Bucky murmurs, brushing his thumb this time over your bottom lip. You close your eyes, savouring the sensation of his long awaited touch after craving it sitting across from him throughout the night. “Never met anyone like you. Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week.”

He makes it too damn hard to resist him, and instead of spending energy enduring the space between you, you decide it’s time to surrender to what your body wants.

Bucky watches intently as you move the picnic basket, which was dividing the blanket in half, and move over to his side, which seems much more limited for space with his large frame.

“So I recall you mentioning something about a kiss…” You lean forward, expecting Bucky to meet you halfway, but to your surprise and disappointment he tilts further away from you.

“You sure I’ve earned it yet?” He teases, not even able to keep his own small chuckle from leaving his lips. Your stomach flips as you anticipate what’s about to happen next.

“Why don’t you come here and find out?”

Without missing another beat, Bucky grabs either side of your face and crashes his lips onto yours. You can feel the blood rushing through your ears with how nervous and excited you are to be finally giving in to what you have been yearning to do since seeing him carry Sasha into the ER.

As his tongue sweeps into your mouth, his dominant hands move down to your thighs and lift you from your place next to him to straddling his stocky thighs.

You hate to admit it, but he was right.

You are putty in his hands.

And the longer the kiss lasts, the more certain you are that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is the only man you ever want to kiss again.

Bucky smiles into the kiss, the jerk somehow knowing exactly what thoughts are running through your mind and the overwhelming effect he has on you. But you’re determined to prove it’s not just him that can elicit a lustful reaction. From your vantage on his upper thighs, you rock your hips deliberately slowly, drawing a whimper from Bucky’s lips.

Just as his large hands slip under the hem of your dress, brushing the bare skin of your back and pulling you even closer into him, you feel a spot of rain on your cheek. Then another. And before you’re even able to untangle yourself from Bucky’s embrace, the rain is pouring down on you both.

Neglecting the picnic blanket and basket, you both run to the cover of a nearby tree, Bucky covering you with his large leather jacket. Though the act is sweet, it ends up being fruitless as the water comes in at such a harsh angle you end up saturated anyway.

“I’m soaking!” You laugh, more at the inconvenience and your vexation at the timing of Mother Nature, than actually finding the situation funny. Bucky cups your face with a smile on his own, that same fondness still brimming in his eyes which makes you come undone.

“I’m sure there’s a joke about you being wet in there somewhere.” He’s not wrong, you were dripping before the rain started, but you’re not letting him onto that, at least not yet.

You laugh genuinely at his stupid wisecrack before pulling him back into a passionate kiss, not caring enough about how you look when absolutely drenched while Bucky gazes at you like you’re still the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on.

You're not sure how long you spend kissing under the tree, but the rain is still pouring down when you both come up for air. Bucky looks at you expectantly, gentle hands still maintaining contact on your hips, and you know in this moment you’re deciding if you want to be one of the girls Wanta told you about that Bucky Barnes fucks on the first date.

“Take me home, Buck.”

The ride back to your place is longer than the earlier drive, stretched out by your need for Bucky not being fulfilled while the only contact possible is your arms around his solid waist.

Once Bucky’s parked his bike, you rush to your front door to get out of the rain, though it is a futile exercise as you're already completely sodden from the drive.

He presses you up against your door, in full view of any of your neighbours who might happen to be passing by, and remedies the situation of your mouth missing his tongue. His kiss is fervent, lips and tongue hungry, tasting all that you give him access to. Your hands find their way to his hair, his own slipping beneath the hem of your dress, his calloused hands brushing over the backs of your thighs before moving higher to find your ass, squeezing.

When you pull away you’re out of breath, but by the smug look in Bucky eyes, he seems proud of that feat.

“Would you like to come inside?” You ask breathlessly, already presuming his answer, your chest heating and your heart palpitating under his stare - if you didn’t know how aroused you were from Bucky’s kiss alone, you might actually be concerned for your health.

Bucky cocks his head to the side, and you just know something cheeky is going to come out of his mouth.

“You want me to cum inside?” You have to refrain from rolling your eyes, because as shameless and forward as Bucky’s being, your more than happy to follow through with his inference.

“Yes, I certainly want you to cum inside.”

Bucky’s hands never leave contact with your hips as you grab your keys to unlock your door, and once you’ve made your way inside, he takes complete control. Your back hits the door with a thud, but it’s excitement that tingles up your spine as Bucky leans his weight on you, lifting your thigh to curl your leg around his waist which allows you to pull his pelvis flush with yours.

You let out a small gasp when you feel Bucky’s clothed thick, hardening length press against your core. His signature, disarmingly charming smirk curves at the corners of his mouth as he leans down closer to you, piercing eyes never leaving yours.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, darling.” He promises in a low voice, before closing the remaining meagre space between you, lips capturing yours in a greedy kiss.

His hands locate the end of your dress again, sourcing your soaking entrance, his touch light not enough to satisfy your desperate need for him. Bucky smiles as he pulls away from your lips, bunching the end of your wet dress in his hands as he drops to his knees.

Fuck, he looks so damn perfect kneeling between your parted legs, licking his lips like he’s ready to devour you like a man starving. When was the last time a man fell to his knees for you? Have they ever?

Your train of thought comes to an abrupt stop when Bucky hooks your leg over his shoulder and places a kiss on your clothed pussy, you feel the flood of wetness pool at his teasing touch.

“Don’t you dare tease, Bucky.”

“But that’s what I’m best at.” He quips, placing a few delicate kisses to the soft inside of your thigh, each time closer to your centre than the last. Though he soon enough adheres to your warning by pulling your panties to the side and using those cheeky lips of his for good use by sucking on your clit.

Pleasure tingles up your spine as Bucky continues to eat you out, his strong arms keeping you upright as the sensation of his warm, wet tongue licking up your dripping arousal overwhelms all your senses.

“Mmm so sweet.” He hums against your folds, the reverberations sending jolts of ecstasy through your body.

“Fuck, Bucky, right there.” You manage to articulate between the stream of moans and whimpers his frenetic motions pull from the back of your throat, the sounds of which only spur Bucky on.

As he laps up all the wetness he himself is responsible for, you hurtle ever quicker towards the edge of bliss, the band in your stomach straining to an almost painful tension. You shift the angle of your hips ever so slightly, and when Bucky’s lips attach once more to your clit, you’re coming undone for him.

Your all consuming orgasm knocks the breath from your lungs, fingers grasping tightly to the strands of Bucky’s long hair to keep you grounded to Earth and stop you from floating away on a cloud of pure euphoria. Bucky slows his motions as he helps you ride out your high, hands maintaining a strong grip on your hips to keep you upright, determined to pull every ounce of pleasure from your body as possible.

When he figures he has, Bucky rises to his feet, locking lips in a bruising kiss in which you can taste yourself. He kisses you until you are short of breath and disoriented in your own home, hypnotised by how his hands tenderly caress your body, which contrasts to the vigorous assault his tongue just performed on your clit.

“This time, I’m going to watch as you fall apart on my cock.” Bucky commands as he starts unzipping his pants.

Based on his first performance, you’re positive you’re in for the time of your life tonight. Now all you have to do is let him ruin you.

* * *

Your head lays on Bucky’s bare chest feeling the steady rise and fall with each breath. It’s only your first date, and yet you’ve not felt as tranquil nor euphoric since you moved to this new city as you do right here in his arms.

It’s been hours since you arrived home, already having christened your front entry, couch and bed, twice, with the filthy things Bucky has done to you, and in what you have to deem the most successful first date you’ve ever been on.

Being with Bucky feels like you’ve found your new home in this isolating city. The final piece to the puzzle which makes moving here feel complete, purposeful, and in hindsight, like you’ve absolutely made the right call.

Just as you snuggle closer to his side, his head leaning to rest on your own, he sighs and starts to speak. “I should head home, I’ve got an early shift tomorrow- well, actually technically today.” He chuckles looking over at the alarm clock on your nightstand. “Need to have a shower and change.”

Anxiety, maybe even something closer to panic, rises in your chest. This is it. The one night Wanda promised you’d get together before he inevitably exits your life for good is over.

But not if you can help it.

“If you stay over, you could wake up with my mouth around you and be having the most world shattering blowjob of your life.” You place a delicate hand on his bare, hairy chest, keeping him securely in bed with you, whispering the words smooth like honey into his ear. “But I guess if you want to spend the night alone…”

“God, you’re making it so hard-”

“I make you so hard, do I?” It’s you this time who is wearing a cheeky smirk, and Bucky chuckles in response.

“Not quite where I was going, but yes, yes you do.” It’s difficult, nay impossible, to believe that someone who you just shared a night filled with pure ecstasy, multiple orgasms, and who is currently gazing at you with more warmth than the hottest summer day, is going to ghost you.

Bucky places a sweet kiss to your lips before climbing out of bed, leaving the space beside you vacant, cold, and making the bed feel far too big for just one person.

“I’m gonna call you.” He says, as if sensing you need reassurance from the tension in the still night air between you. Once he tugs up his pants, quickly buttoning and zipping his fly, he strides over to you and places a lingering kiss to your lips. Your hands snake around his neck in an attempt to pull him back into bed with you, but he’s quite literally a ball of muscle and you find you don’t have the strength to make him budge. “I’ll call you.” He reiterates, and though there is minimal light in the room, his blue eyes shine with sincerity.

“You promise?” You ask as he searches for his shirt which was thrown somewhere earlier in the night, your heart clenching when he finds it, knowing even your naked presence in a soft bed isn’t enough to make him stay.

“I promise.” He pledges as looks back at you one last time, his hand reaching for the door handle when some quality about you prevents him from opening it. He returns to your side and kisses you again, ardently, urgently, and for a moment you’ll think he actually will stay.

But you’ve never been that lucky.

“You think I’m passing up on an opportunity to do this again with you? I promise I’m going to call.” He repeats assuredly, placing one final, earnest kiss to your lips that leaves you dizzy. When you open your eyes, you only just catch his bulky figure leaving the room. Pulling the covers over you as the warm comfort you need, a few seconds later you hear a click as the front door shuts and within the minute his bike roaring to life as he drives away.

The words Wanda spoke in the locker room the day before reach the front of your mind. No one gets a second date with Bucky Barnes.

Hopefully you’re the exception.

Part 3 > >

Be added to the series taglist here

Triage [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @roschele @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @fallenlilangel99 @princezzjasmine @mdrovert

[ameagrice]

Capsize

chapter thirty | fine line

percy jackson x fem reader

There are silver streaks shared by Annabeth and Percy, scattered through their hair.

It’s something that will connect them forever, you know for certain. It’s a symbol of a shared strength.

It’s just one more thing to make your heart melt.

Realistically, you should feel nothing but proud of them both, and in your own way, you do. But there has been too much loss to feel any sort of good from the ending, and you can’t get Zoe Nightshade’s death from your mind.

“I can see the stars, my lady,” she whispered, so gently you’d barely heard her at all. The wound on her side gaped, and bled, the golden ichor of an immortal on her way out. An inch of a smile appeared on her face, struggling, before it dropped, and the light faded from Zoe Nightshade’s eyes. A wisp of silvery light lifted from her lips, drifting up into the air, before it, too, faded.

In the sky, the stars showed an image of a girl, running across the sky. Zoe Nightshade had, finally, found her peace.

Atlas was in his rightful place. His daughter had been stolen from the world. Luke Castellan was kicked to his death by Thalia’s action.

Except, they couldn’t find a body.

Body, upon body, upon body. They just kept piling up.

Bianca; Zoe; Luke. Lost lives; people who could have had so much more than they were given.

But Gods who couldn’t care any less.

And if you had to, you’d bet they didn’t even know their names.

You could see now, just why Luke was so angry. Because you felt it too. And it was terrifying.

“You don’t believe me about Luke,” Annabeth said, sounding faded amongst your thoughts. “We’ll see him again. He’s just under Kronos’s spell.”

Thalia jolted away, somehow seemingly unbothered by the height at which you travelled in the sky, Artemis in the lead. “There it is,” she pointed, sitting up. “It’s started.”

“What’s started?” Percy leaned forward, catching your hair between his hand on the seat he held onto. You didn’t say anything.

High above the Empire State Building, Olympus was its own island of light. A mountain ablaze with torches and braziers.

“The Winter Solstice,” she breathed. “The Council of the Gods.”

In the early-morning darkness, torches and fires made the mountainside palaces glow twenty different colors, from bloodred to indigo. Apparently no one ever slept on Olympus. The twisting streets were full of demigods and nature spirits and minor godlings bustling about, riding chariots or sedan chairs carried by Cyclopes. Winter didn’t seem to exist here. The scent of the gardens in full bloom, jasmine and roses and even sweeter filled your senses. Music drifted up from many windows, the soft sounds of lyres and reed pipes.

Towering at the peak of the mountain was the greatest palace of all, the glowing white hall of the gods.

You touched ground outside towering, silver gates, just inside the courtyard. Pegasi travel was rather terrifying, and you were much more than glad to be alive and on the ground. Olympus glowed with warm, the kind that settled in your bones. The warm wind, blowing from nowhere, shifted your hair when you clambered down to the ground.

“Yeah,” Percy muttered.

“Huh?”

Percy froze. “Uh—the horse. Sorry! Pegasi.”

A laugh escaped you, startling in the night. Thalia turned, eyebrow raised. “Why are you talking to a horse? It didn’t say anything.”

“Didn’t I tell you? Haven’t I told you?” He averted his gaze.

“What,” you landed your hand on your hip, waving the other to the pegasi. “You talk to animals now, too, like Grover?”

“Just sea creatures. And horses. Pegasi, sorry!”

“Yeah, you’ll really have to explain that later,” you trailed off. “We’ve got more important matters at hand.”

The Pegasi flew off, leaving yourself, Percy, Thalia and your sister together. You liked to think, years later, laying on the glass floor of a ship, that you were all trying to gather the courage after everything to step inside the giant building, and face gods you had once only ever heard about in stories.

Side-by-side, you walked into the throne room.

Twelve enormous thrones made a U around a central hearth, just like the placement of the cabins at camp. The ceiling above glittered with constellations—even the newest one, Zoë the Huntress, making her way across the heavens with her bow drawn.

All of the seats were occupied. Each god and goddess was about fifteen feet tall. Under their judging eyes, despite your own mother being one of them, you were uncomfortable.

“Welcome, heroes,” Artemis said.

“Mooo!”

That was when you noticed Bessie and Grover, the latter standing at the side of a pool of water which Bessie swam in.

“Grover! You made it.”

He started to run towards your friends, then stopped, and looked back at Zeus, who up close, felt a lot scarier than he looked. You only realized then, that there was a major difference in terror of humans, and the intimidation of gods. You could deal with this kind.

“Go on,” Zeus nodded once. But he wasn’t looking at Grover—he was looking at Thalia.

None of the gods spoke. Grover’s hooves echoed on the marble floor, Bessie the Ophiotaurus mooing warmly at your arrival.

You took the time to observe the gods up close, because you might never get the chance to again. Artemis, looking as if she hadn’t ever even been hold hostage, watched the exchange between Percy and Grover. Percy’s father, Poseidon, dressed so casually you might have laughed in other circumstances, had this sort of barely-there smile on his face, bright eyes shining just the way Percy’s own did, too. Apollo, sunglasses covering his eyes, had his earbuds in, golden head of hair tilted back to the ceiling. And…

Ares. It was impossible to not feel him looking at you. Why the special interest, you wanted to ask. Do you see yourself in me? You wondered. Do I see myself in you?

Your eyes met his dark ones, a stark difference, between the extreme fatigue, and the colors. Your eyes burned with exhaustion and the tears you had shed since yesterday. He wore his signature black leather jacket, dark, dark hair being tousled by Aphrodite’s touch. When it was obvious her husband wasn’t looking at her, perched at his side, her love-ridden smile slowly fell away, and those sparkling eyes fell on you as well.

Or maybe it’s you, I see myself in. Too romantic. Too caught up in feelings. After all, you only had so much love to spare between friends, and the dead ones.

What do you see in me? You were desperate to ask, curiosity clawing at your chest. Why am I the way I am?

Gods sometimes took a special interest in heroes. All the tales told you so. You just had to wonder, what would come of this.

Ragged and bruised, you felt as though you were being picked apart under the watchful eyes of so many olympians.

You hadn’t realized Grover was doing the rounds until he yanked you into a hug. You found it in yourself to hug him back—at least he was still alive.

“Glad you made it,” you whispered.

“You too.” He nodded. Neither of you smelled amazing after this quest, but it went uncared for. A trouble shared is a trouble deeply understood.

“You have to convince them,” he said to the remaining four of you. “They can’t do it!”

“Do what?” You blinked.

“Heroes,” Artemis called. The goddess slid down from her throne and turned to human size, a young auburn-haired girl, perfectly at ease in the midst of the giant Olympians. She walked toward your little group, her silver robes shimmering. There was no emotion in her face. She seemed to walk in a column of moonlight.

“The Council has been informed of your deeds,” Artemis spoke loudly, addressing everyone in a steady, clear tone. “They know that Mount Othrys is rising in the West. They know of Atlas’s attempt for freedom, and the gathering armies of Kronos. We have voted to act.”

There was some mumbling and shuffling among the olympians, as if they weren’t all happy with this plan, but nobody protested.

“At my Lord Zeus’s command,” Artemis said, “my brother Apollo and I shall hunt the most powerful monsters, seeking to strike them down before they can join the Titans’ cause. Lady Athena shall personally check on the other Titans to make sure they do not escape their various prisons. Lord Poseidon has been given permission to unleash his full fury on the cruise ship Princess Andromeda and send it to the bottom of the sea. And as for you, my heroes…”

She turned to face the other immortals.

And that, was the moment you saw your mother for the first time.

Dressed in a beautiful white dress, draped over one shoulder, her eyes, as gray as your own, as gray as Annabeth’s appeared lost in thought. You took the chance to just look at the woman you never thought you would meet.

“I gotta say—” Apollo cleared his throat. “These heroes did okay.” He began to recite. “Heroes win laurels—”

“Um, yes, first class,” Hermes interrupted with a side-eye in his brother’s direction. You were unable to help the smirk. “All in favor of not disintegrating them?”

A few tentative hands went up: Aphrodite, Demeter, Apollo—waving his iPod.

“Hang on a minute,” Ares growled, sitting up on his throne. He pointed at Thalia and Percy, on the other side of Annabeth. “These two are dangerous. It’d be much safer, while we’ve got them here—”

Don’t say anything, you begged yourself. Even Annabeth elbowed you.

“Ares,” Poseidon interrupted. “They are worthy heroes. We will not blast my son to bits.”

“Nor my daughter,” grumbled Zeus. “She has done well.”

You leaned forward around your sister, who visibly shook, pale, in need of a lie down from the looks of things. Thalia blushed—you grinned wickedly. All the things you could do with this moment in the future.

Athena cleared her throat. Annabeth sighed. The goddess leaned forward. “I am proud of my daughters, as well. But I agree—there is a security issue with the other two.”

Annabeth elbowed you a little too late, this time.

“Mother!” You exclaimed.

Your heart dropped and splattered on the ground. Never had you addressed her as such. And never had she looked you in the face the way she did now.

Too late to back out, now.

“How can you just—”

Athena cut you off with a girl, but calm look. “It is unfortunate that my father, Zeus, and my uncle, Poseidon, chose to break their oath not to have more children. Only Hades kept his word, a fact that I find ironic. As we know from the Great Prophecy, children of the three elder gods…such as Thalia and Percy…are dangerous. As thickheaded as he is, Ares has a point.”

“Right!” Ares said. “Hey, wait a minute. Who you callin’—”

He started to get up, but a grape vine grew around his waist like a seat belt and pulled him back down.

“Oh, please, Ares,” Dionysus sighed. “Save the fighting for later.”

Ares cursed and ripped away the vine. “You’re one to talk, you old drunk. You seriously want to protect these brats?”

Dionysus gazed wearily. “I have no love for them. Athena, do you really think it wise to destroy them?”

“I do not pass judgement,” she said. “I only point out the risk. What we do, the Council must decide.”

“I will not have them punished,” Artemis cut in hotly. “I will have them rewarded. If we punish heroes who do us such a great favour, then we are no better than the titans, are we not? If this is Olympian justice, I will have none of it.”

“Calm down, sis,” Apollo scoffed. “Chill. Jeez, you need to lighten up.”

“Don’t call me sis! I will reward them!”

“Well, perhaps. But the monster must be destroyed. We have agreement on that?”

“Bessie?” Percy burst out. “You want to destroy Bessie?”

Your heart swelled. Gosh, he cared. It was lovely.

And then you wanted to slap yourself.

What was up with the emotions lately?

Poseidon frowned. “You have named the Ophiotaurus Bessie?”

“Dad,” Percy said. “He’s just a sea creature. A really nice sea creature. You can’t destroy him.”

Poseidon shifted uncomfortably, a trait Percy shared with him, you noted. “Percy, it’s power is considerable. If the titans were to steal it, or—”

“You can’t,” Percy insisted.

Zeus opened his mouth, looking as though he was getting antsier by the second. But you had experience with this sort of thing that needed a good negotiation, so you cut in.

“Controlling the prophecies never works. Isn’t that true?” You tried, stepping forward. All eyes landed on you, and you swallowed. “Have we not just experienced it? Are we not experiencing it now? The Ophiotaurus is innocent. Killing something like that is wrong. It’s as wrong as Kronos eating his children just because of something they might do.”

Zeus looked to be considering it. You breathed heavily, in a mild panic after consulting the king of the gods head on. If he wanted to, you could be zapped out of existence in less than a second.

“And what of the risk? Kronos knows full well, if one of you were to sacrifice the beast’s entrails you would have the power to destroy all of us. Do you think we can let this possibility remain? You, my daughter, will turn sixteen on the morrow, just as the prophecy says.”

“You have to trust them,” you tried, pleading with your eyes. “Please, you have to trust them.”

Zeus scowled. “Trust a hero?”

“She is right,” Artemis nodded slowly. “Which is why I must first make a reward. My faithful companion, Zoe Nightshade, has passed into the stars. I must have a new lieutenant. And I intend to choose one, but first, father Zeus, I must speak with you privately.”

Zeus beckoned Artemis forward, leaning to listen as she whispered to him.

“Annabeth,” Percy whispered from behind you. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Look, I need to tell you something. I couldn’t stand it if—I don’t want you to—”

Artemis turned. “I will have a new lieutenant, if she will accept it. Thalia, daughter of Zeus, will you join the Hunt?”

Your jaw almost dropped. Stunned silence filled the room.

“I will,” Thalia said firmly. She moved to your side, and then a little bit further ahead. Confident.

Zeus rose, his eyes full of concern. “My daughter, consider well—”

Don’t let him change your mind, you prayed. Hold your ground.

“Father, I will not turn sixteen tomorrow,” she shook her head. “I will never turn sixteen. I won’t let this prophecy be mine. I stand with my sister Artemis. Kronos will not tempt me again.”

She knelt down before Artemis, and repeated the same words Bianca had uttered what felt like years ago at the cliff side in the snow and weary sunlight.

When she had finished, she hugged each of you and said a few words. You felt awkward, putting your hands into your coat pockets, when Thalia stood in front of you. For once, there was no spiteful comments from either one of you. She smiled small, looking rejuvenated the same way Bianca had, as if the quest had never happened.

“You’re a good friend,” she nodded. “You’re brave. You’ve got what it takes to help them with this prophecy.” And then she leaned in, and hugged you just as she had with Annabeth and Grover and Percy. “Trust yourself.”

Thalia went and stood with Artemis, and the atmosphere changed instantly.

“Now, for the Ophiotaurus.”

“The boy is still dangerous,” Mr. D. opposed. The beast is a temptation to great power. Even if we spare the boy—”

“No.” Percy said firmly. “Please. Keep the Ophiotaurus safe. My dad can hide him under the sea somewhere, or keep him in an aquarium here. But you have to protect him.”

“And why should we trust you?”

“I’m only fourteen. If this prophecy is about me, that’s only two more years.”

“Two years for Kronos to deceive you,” Athena uttered. “Much can change in two years, young hero. It is only the truth. It is bad strategy to keep the boy alive. And the animal.”

Poseidon stood. “I will not have the creature destroyed if I can help it. And I can, help it.”

He held out his hand, and a spear shimmering with blue light appeared. “I will vouch for the boy and the safety of the Ophiotaurus.”

“You won’t take it under the sea!” Zeus stood suddenly. “I won’t have that kind of bargaining chip in your possession.”

“Brother, please,” Poseidon sighed.

Zeus’s lightening bolt appeared in his hand, and the whole room filled with the smell of ozone.

“Fine,” Poseidon nodded. “I will build an aquarium for the sea creature here, with the help of Hephaestus. The creature will be safe. The boy will not betray us. I vouch for this on my honor.”

Zeus thought about it. “All in favor?”

A dozen hands went up, besides Mr. D, your mother’s, and Ares just sat looking bored.

“We have a majority. And so, since we are not destroying these heroes, I imagine we should reward them.”

—

There are parties, and then there are Olympian parties. And Olympian parties are filled with gold and beautiful colours, exotic flowers and the Muses music, braziers of fire, and delicious food and drinks. It became busy very quickly, and before you knew it, you found yourself stumbling into a corner to get yourself together. All you wished to do was go to your cabin and cry. To let it all out.

“This doesn’t look like you’re partying.”

“What the hell are you? A spy? Just leave me alone.” You shoved yourself further into the corner just away from all the partying, a quiet corridor devoid of anything but cold marble and tall, golden ceilings.

Ares hummed lowly. You didn’t have to see him, shoved into the corner like a child, but you knew he was just on the other side of it.

“I’ll let you off just this once, demigod.”

You rolled your eyes. The marble edges dug into your back uncomfortably from how hard you were trying to disappear for a few minutes. “What do you want? Spit it out.”

“If you weren’t her’s, I would say you’re one of mine. You’ve got the fire, I’ll give you that. And my wife has taken a special interest in you and that boy. Her business is my business, you’ll understand. Since you’re her business, now, you’re my business, too.”

You wanted to scream at him to leave, to go away so you could breathe for five minutes. But…you really wanted to know what he had to say. Curiosity always got the better of you.

“I don’t want to be anybody’s business,” you settled on, weakly. “I’m my own person.”

“Whatever, kid. I’m just here to pass along a message.”

“Which is?”

“She says, you’re doing exactly what you should be doing.”

“Oh, really?”

You shoved away from the corner, and paused.

He’d already gone.

—

Making your way back into the crowd was the last thing you wanted to do, but it would be best to show your face for a little while. Eventually you made your way back to Percy. He smiled as you popped up next to him, and then slowly frowned. His green eyes glistened under all the lights.

“You’ve been crying,” he reached up, and then lowered his hand, unsure of what to do.

You laughed pitifully. “Yeah.”

Because, really, what more could you say? It was rather obvious. And you sounded as if you’d just developed the world’s worst cold and stuffy nose.

Percy still stared at you, concerned. It was touching, really.

“I’m just tired.” You nodded. “I promise. When we get back to camp you might not see me for a couple weeks. I’m about to fall off the face of the earth in sleep mode.”

He smiled, tight-lipped, those eyes dancing across your face. For the first time ever under Percy’s eyes, you felt self-conscious.

“I’ll clean up later. My dad always says I look like I’ve just done thirty rounds of coke after crying. It’s funny because it’s true,” you tried lightly.

Percy’s dark curls shook. “No,” he denied. “I think you look…I think you look pretty—uh—I mean—”

Your heart jumped into your throat, and suddenly it was difficult to breathe. Because AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

“Uhm—” you frantically tried for something to do; hair behind your ears, leaning back and forth on your heels. “Thank you. Thanks.” Heat flooded your cheeks. Percy was already scarlet in the face, nodding frantically, avoiding your eyes.

When you looked up, Athena watched from a distance, and then looked away, as if she hadn’t been interested at all. But you weren’t about to let her ruin what just happened—Percy called you pretty.

“I was thinking,” he shoved out. You turned your head, blinking expectantly. “I owe you a dance, don’t I? We got interrupted at Westover Hall, right?”

This time, you allowed yourself to smile, your heart and lungs expanding.

“Right.” You took his hand, shaking.

The music played on, a gentle tune of the future, the past, and the present.

—

Chiron greeted you all at the Big House with hot chocolate and toasted cheese sandwiches. Grover went off to his satyr friends, telling them all about his brief experience with Pan.

Annabeth, Percy and yourself sat with Chiron by the fire. A couple of others joined you, too—Clarisse, back from a quest of her own it seemed. Her hair was cut short, like somebody had hacked it with scissors without a care, and there was a jagged scar on her chin. For once, she kept quiet.

“I got news,” she said glumly. “Bad news.”

“I’ll fill you in later,” Chiron said with forced cheerfulness. “The important thing is you’ve prevailed. And you’ve saved Annabeth!”

The Stoll brothers were there, too. You hadn’t even looked Travis in the eye. The high of the short dance with Percy had worn off, that tiny spark of normality had gone, and left you with the sadness you’d been feeling before it. You struggled with getting Bianca and Zoe’s deaths from the front of your mind, and Thalia’s moving on. Everybody was leaving, it felt like. And everybody was too happy for what had happened along the way.

Percy, sitting next to you in front of the fire, felt the same. You could tell by the sheer look of something bordering on a deep sadness he had.

You didn’t speak.

Annabeth talked about Atlas, and where she had been kept. She yawned the whole way through, still shaking with weakness even after some ambrosia.

Chiron’s positivity spread a little bit to you tired campers, but in the end, the unwavering need to go somewhere and cry won. You set down your mug of hot chocolate, and walked away. Another chair scratched the floor behind you, as you walked away toward the fields.

“Let her be,” you heard Chiron utter. “She needs time.”

You heard happy babbling just as you wandered away, boyish, childish talking. You looked to the left, and there was Nico di Angelo, two figurines in hands, talking to himself the way children tend to do. Every organ in your body twisted painfully, and you got away before he could see you. You couldn’t be the one to tell him Bianca was long gone. You still didn’t want to believe it yourself.

The air was bitter cold, your fingertips numb already. Snow fell lightly as you wandered into where you probably shouldn’t have been. You didn’t get far until his voice caught you up.

“Scout?”

You stopped, the snow crunching quietly. Behind you, Travis grew closer until he was right in front of you. You hadn’t even realized how tall he’d gotten until you saw him again, like seeing him in a different light.

Bundled in a red sweater and jeans, a coat and scarf atop of that, he still shivered.

“I just need to go for a walk. I’ll be alright later.” You shrugged.

Silence captured the air. Until he said, “Chiron…mentioned what happened to Nico’s sister. And the Hunter girl. Zoe. I’m—I’m so sorry.”

The first tear fell without any effort. And then you grew too cold too quickly. And crumbled.

He enveloped you instantly, as if without thought—like the action would be unknown, to hesitate in your arms. Against his warm, soft chest, Travis’s heart beat gently against your ear, his hands coming up carefully to your back, to your shoulder.

Safety.

And at the end of it—Travis.

You allowed yourself the tears. Your hands scrunched at his shirt. He smelled of the outside weather, of wind

of life.

—

PAIN. So, we’ve reached the end of Titans Curse! How are we feeling so far about relationships and eve thing? Feedback is always appreciated!

taglist: @bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky @emu281 @charlesswife @jessiegerl @crackerphobic20 @mata0-0mata @jccc1000 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nothankyou138 @i-love-books-and-the-bible @obxstiles

if they’re not highlighted, it wouldn’t let me tag you!

this chapter’s quite short. I didn’t want to drag it out too much.

aaaaand I’ve added a few more songs to the playlist (on my profile if you don’t have it saved!) if you want to give them a listen. thanks for reading!

[pyssball]

spoiled pink pt.1 .ᐟ jenson button

masterlist

a/n: holy crap chat it's been a sec, school started back up and i've been STRESSING tryna get these chapters done and keep up with school 😭 yes i did decide to include david, however he is just a father figure/friend to chloe, kinda like seb and michael vibes. pt. 2 will be up as soon as possilble ! 👍🏻

word count: 1.1k

no warnings for this chapter 💌

February 25, 2023 (2:26 p.m.)

The early morning mist hovered over Loch Ness, adding an ethereal quality to the landscape as Jenson, David, and Chloe arrived to set off on their hike. They had planned this hike for months.

“Okay so, plan is: Loch Centre to Loch View” Chloe stood on a tree stump, pointing at the map they had collected from the Centre.

Jenson nodded, looking at the map on his phone for the estimated time.

“Hun, that’s like 3 hours.” DC spoke, shaking his head as he looked at the time with Jenson.

“Hey, you can back out, old man.” she teased.

DC threw his hands up in surrender, “No, no. I promised a hike, we’ll hike… but you do realise we have to come back right?”

“Well duh.” she jumped down off the stump, grabbing her bag from the car and throwing it on her back.

Jenson and David exchanged glances before grabbing their own bags. Jenson chuckled as she walked off, “Chlo, wait up!”

She groaned and turned around, “Why?”

“Cause we know you, you’ll get lost.”

“Nuh-uh, I have a map.” she held up the map, pointing to the two checkpoints she had highlighted.

As they began their hike, the path was serene and inviting. The early morning sun began to burn off the mist, revealing a landscape of rolling hills and dense forests. The trail wandered along the edge of the Loch, offering breathtaking views at every turn. Chloe took the lead, setting a brisk pace, while David and Jenson followed, each finding their own rhythm.

The two men chatted and laughed as they walked. Chloe, meanwhile, was engrossed in her surroundings, stopping frequently to snap photos of the Loch's glassy surface and the mist-clad hills.

“Having fun, love?” Jenson, smiled as he watched her snap a few more pictures.

“Mhm.. I might paint this later.”

“Of course you will.” David chuckled.

(5:54 p.m.)

As the day wore on, the weather began to change. Dark clouds gathered over the Loch, and a light drizzle started to fall.

Chloe, though initially disappointed, saw the opportunity for some unique and dramatic shots, her camera clicking away as the rain left ripples on the Loch's surface. Although, Jenson and David were much less enthused about getting wet.

“You’ve got to be joking.” Jenson grumbled.

DC groaned adjusting his jacket around himself, “Come on.”

“Oh my gods, you two act like a little bit of water is gonna kill you.”

“This wasn’t exactly in the plans, Chlo.” Jenson protested.

Chloe giggled, “We aren’t that far from the View, Jense, I think there’s a little castle we can stay in until it passes.”

“Castle?” DC asked, visibly puzzled.

“Yeah, I think it’s called the Urquhart Castle or something like that.”

“Leave it to the Queen of the Nerds to know the name of a castle in the middle of no where.” Jenson teased.

Within 10 minutes, they reached a scenic overlook that offered a panoramic view of Loch Ness and the surrounding landscape. The rain had stopped, leaving behind a fresh, earthy scent. They paused to take in the view, each lost in their own thoughts. Jenson marveled at the majesty of the Loch, David took a moment to appreciate the tranquility, and Chloe was busy composing the perfect shot of the sun breaking through the clouds.

(8:09 p.m.)

As they walked the hike back, the weather cleared, and a rainbow arched over the Loch, casting a magical glow over the scene. They reached the end of the trail just as the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the water. Exhausted but exhilarated, they sat together, sharing a simple meal of sandwiches and fruit.

“Well that was tiring.. but fun!” Chloe squeaked.

”Very tiring.” Jenson chimed.

“Remind me to never go on a hike with Chloe again.” DC groaned as he stuffed his face with a ham sandwich.

“It’s not my fault you’re old.” Chloe sighed, beginning to eat some strawberries.

“But it IS your fault that we walked 3 hours there and back.”

“You’re still alive, yeah?”

“Barely.” DC and Jenson replied at the same time, in the same tone, causing Chloe to giggle.

As they watched the sun dip below the horizon, Chloe snapped one last photo, capturing the three friends silhouetted against the fading light. They shared a quiet moment of contentment, each reflecting on the day's adventures and the memories they had created together.

(9:38 p.m.)

After the long day, Jenson and Chloe finally arrived home. Chloe taking a shower and settling into some comfy pjs, which in reality was just on our Jenson’s t-shirts and a pair of boxers.

The two set about preparing a simple dinner— vodka pasta with some garlic bread Chloe had made earlier that week. They exchanged smiles and quiet laughter as they worked together, the comfort of their routine mingling with the satisfaction of a day well spent.

They ate slowly, savouring the flavours and each other’s company. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by the occasional sip of red wine and the occasional sound of the wind rustling through the trees outside.

Afterward, they moved to the porch, where they sat in wooden rocking chairs. The stars were brilliant against the dark sky, and they talked softly about constellations and Chloe explaining their origin stories, their voices blending with the sounds of the night—crickets chirping, the distant call of an owl.

Chloe pointed up to the Orion constellation, “That one is one of my favourites.”

Jenson would follow her finger in the night sky, ”Which one is it?”

“Orion.’

“There a backstory?”

Chloe would shift giving him a dumbfounded look, “Everything has a backstory, Jense.”

“Well.. I suppose so. Can I hear it?”

“Orion was a really good hunter, son of a Gorgon and Poseidon, who angered mother Earth, Gaia, by boasting he could kill all animals. Gaia sent a scorpion to attack Orion, leading to the placement of Scorpius and Orion never being visible together. Ophiuchus intervened, saving Orion with an antidote which cause Ophiuchus to be positioned between Scorpius and Orion in the sky.. in Greek mythology anyways, there are tons of stories.”

Jenson looked at her, slightly impressed that she could just spat all of that without a second thought, “Woah.”

“The Finns refer to Orion's belt and the stars below it as "Väinämöinen's scythe" and the asterism of Alnilam, Alnitak, and Mintaka as "Väinämöinen's Belt. The stars hanging from the belt are known as ‘Kaleva's sword.’”

Jenson gave her a look of genuine confusion, “Since when do the Finns have mythology..?!”

“Since.. forever?”

Jenson chuckled pulling her closer to him, “Sometimes I forget you’re such a dork.”

Chloe gasped, “I am not a dork! …I’m a nerd.”

Jenson laughed softly, “Is there a difference?”

As the evening wore on, they fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts but content in the shared quiet. The world outside felt distant and unimportant, replaced by the simple joy of being together. They leaned into each other, finding warmth and solace in the gentle closeness of the night.

thank you for reading, darlings ! remember to like and reblog ! i’ll give u a smooch if u do, luv u all !

[crazyk-imagine]

Old Faces, New Attitudes

Pairing: Otis Driftwood x Plus!size!reader

Characters: Plus!size!reader, Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Mama Firefly

Warnings: Is this family a warning?, mentions of murder and mayham, Otis likes thicc girls pass it on like crack cocaine, Otis is posessive, semi dark, first movie vibes, Otis is a narcissis, this family has issues and brings people into it, mentions of smut, Otis lowkey a simp for the reader bc why not, reader knows how to handle it, I mean him

Word Count: 871

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

You walk into the house and gently close the door behind you and walk by the kitchen, realizing you came in as they were starting to eat dinner.

You knew Spaulding sent you here, but you couldn't figure out why at this time. You roll your eyes and try to sneak by.

"Is that you, pumpkin?" Mama takes off her mask, "oh, you’re all wet."

"And, ruining the floors," mumbles Otis.

Baby pops up from her chair. "Join us for dinner." She hugs you, pulling you close. "Please, please, please."

You hold in a groan, not wanting to let her know you're annoyed.

She'll run with it and never shut up, another reason you liked playing with her as a child; she always kept you on your toes. "If I say yes, will you shut up?"

"Well, duh."

You sigh, "if you’ll excuse me. I have to change." You glance at everyone surrounding the table and look at the guests. "Enjoy dinner.” You mumble, “never know when it’s gonna be your last."

"What was that?" The snootiest one snaps at you.

You shrug, "nothing."

"Say it," the girl spits out, not realizing who she’s pissing off.

Mama and Baby take a step back, knowing its best to stay away in case you decide to snap.

You spin around and smile, “sweetie, pissy girls like you lose their boyfriends.”

“What did you just say?” She pushes herself up, the chair legs scraping along the floor, echoing throughout the room.

"Think about it.”

Mama clears her throat, "that's enough now, Pumpkin. Go change before you get cold."

You nod and ignore everyone as you run up the stairs with Baby trailing behind you.

She rummaged through her room, moving the dead cheerleaders so she could find the right clothes to wear. “Are you staying tonight?”

You shrug, “I don’t know yet.”

“I think you should, it's almost time you know.”

“Would it be such a big deal if I left?”

“Uh, yeah. Otis won’t shut up until you call.”

“I doubt that.”

“He wants you. I hear him when he’s trying to come up with a new creation. You’re his muse or some shit. It’d be cuter if he didn’t whine about you.” She throws a shirt in your direction. “You’re all he talks about.”

You start to unfold the shirt and stare at it. “Baby, your shirt is barely going to be able to cover one of my tits.”

She giggles, “I know, gotta show him what he’s missing.”

You push her out the door, “go down and finish dinner before that bitch meets her end.”

She throws her head back, letting the giggles escape as she skips down the stairs.

You sit down beside Otis and glance up to grab your mask when you notice one of them eyeing you. “My eyes are up here.”

The one with glasses turns red. “Oh- I-I wasn’t-”

“I don’t give a shit, don’t look.” You chuckle, “looks like your girlfriends aren't giving you enough attention.”

They shrink under your gaze, even more when their girlfriends start badgering them.

-

You lay on the couch, close to falling asleep when you sense someone else in the room.

“You plan on sleeping there tonight?” He asks, leaning against the back of the couch.

“Maybe.”

“My room’s cozier or whatever shit you girls are into.”

You open your eyes and tilt your head, “do I look like the type of girl who likes cozy?”

For the first time tonight, he smirks. “Hell no, now come on. I gotta show you something.”

You whine, snuggling into the blanket. “But I’m warm.”

He throws his hands up. “Fine, don’t come up. It’s not like I’m in the middle of God's work.”

You sigh and push yourself off the couch, “quite your fucking whining, I’m coming.” You push yourself off the couch and push him to the side.

“Where’d your pants go?”

You pause on the third step, towering over him. “I’m wearing shorts.”

“Those aren’t fucking shorts if your ass is hanging out.”

“My ass isn’t out,” you argue.

“Really, then what’s that?” He points to your shorts.

You glance down, trying to see what he’s seeing.

His hand grips your neck, pulling you close as he uses the surprise advantage, he has over you to stick his tongue in your mouth; his other hand sneaks around your waist as he grips your cheek before smacking it.

You moan into the kiss, placing your hand on his shoulder before sliding it down, slowly rubbing your hand over his growing tent.

He groans under his breath at your touch.

You back, tugging on his lip between your teeth before releasing it. “Someone’s missed me,” you tease.

“No fucking kidding, you’re the one who hasn’t been around to help me. Next time that knock off captain asks for help, tell him no.”

You playfully pout at him before gasping.

“And this,” he adds, sinking his nails into your other set of cheeks. “This feels like you’ve done something different, what changed?”

“I've been working on the ride with Spaulding more.”

“The fuck you been doing? Don't tell me you're fucking him too?” He leans in, lips close to your ear. “You're mine.” 

[tangerinesilk]

BACK UP PLAN • TANGERINE x FEM!READER

they think you’re the diesel, but you know who took the case. too bad for you that tangerine, a guy from your past, likes to shoot first and ask questions later. as fun as that is, you quickly team up to figure out who took the case and what terrible fate they’ll meet... and of course, rehash your complicated past.

rating ✷ r (18+ only, minors dni!)

tropes ✷ enemies to lovers (but still enemies), pwp, cheeky banter, loud gf/quiet bf, butchered british slang, kind of mr. and mrs. smith energy, two idiots with one task

warnings ✷ cursing, violence being the answer, guns & knives, switch!tan x switch!reader, bathroom sex, fingering, quick p in v, lots of begging, exhibitionism, mention of hands/rings (my kink lmao)

word count ✷ 3.7k

a/n ✷ my first tangerine fic :D just feeding into my fixation and going down the aaron johnson rabbit hole again. wasn't expecting to do some bullet train writing, but..... here it is. there will be no part 2! hope y'all like it and feedback is always welcomed!

Shit was going down and surprisingly, it was not by your doing.

With your back pressed against the wall of the luggage holding, you could only hope the short but thick curtain covered your figure enough that anyone who passed wouldn’t see you. As you attempt to keep your breathing low and quiet, it hitches when you hear the sudden sound of automatic door opening.

“We need to find the cheeky fucker who took our case. Swear to God, I’ll bash his head in when I find him.”

That’s a thick accent you don’t forget. You don’t want to peak, but you can see the West Ham sticker on the back of his phone. 

It can’t be him. No, no…

“Lemon, I’ve gone up and down this train for the umpteenth time. I’m ‘bout ready to shoot any sleazy bellend who looks at me funny.”

Tangerine?

He was the only person you’ve been able to outrun yet here he was, only a few inches away and knowing damn well he would know how to tear into you for what happened in Copenhagen. Long story short, it ended with you tossing his favorite gun into the river and it’s made an even bigger target on your back.

While you do wear a mask that seals your identity during your heists, you prayed he didn’t remember eyes since you lost your only form of disguise when fighting the Prince. Just like you, she uses her looks to her gains, able to manipulate anyone by batting her eyelashes. She was the one with the case, and knowing her past, she’d blame it on someone else and you were most likely high up on the list.

“Alright, then. Let’s keep lookin’ for the bastard.” He said before hanging up.

You cover your mouth, your glare remaining steady on him before he takes a pause. His blue eyes search around the cart, huffing until you hear the other automatic door open. You fully step out of the small luggage spot and catching your breath, “I have to get off here.”

As the next stop was coming to a halt, a force pulled you back into the bathroom from an arm snaking around your waist. You couldn’t even gather your thoughts before feeling a cool metal pressing against your temple.

“Now I can only think of two reasons a girl like yourself is hiding behind a bunch of suitcases. One, she’s got a bit of a dickhead of a boyfriend or two, she’s got my fuckin’ case.”

You smirked, “If I had it, I would have hid better, don’t you think?” You hoped to fool him.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m that stupid, why don’t you just–” He turned you around to look into your eyes, and unfortunately, he had seen them somewhere, “Oi, where have I seen you before?”

“I’ve never met you before in my life, now if you’ll excuse me…” You trailed before he shifted to stand in front of the doorway, placing his gun on the sink counter.

“As much as I’d like to believe that, darling... you’re not going’ anywhere until I get my answer.” He said with an assertive tone, his jaw obviously clenched and his eyes piercing blue.

With his one hand on the trim of the sink and the other against the wall, he towered over you with his tall stance. He acted intimidating but you knew deep down there was hidden softness to his personality. ‘Warmer the closer you got’ type of shit.

Your eyes shifted from his eyes to his chest, hard to not stare with his first button undone and gold chain disappearing into his shirt. Able to display a poker face, Tangerine was still racking his brain around where he had seen those eyes before. He couldn’t place the last time he saw such a color.

I guess what you failed to mention is that something else happened in Copenhagen. To summarize, it involved a skin tight dress, a hotel key card and a getaway plan by dawn. What threw him off now was that you weren’t sporting the same short, auburn wig you sported that night you tried to get his attention.

“How am I supposed to give you an answer that I don’t have? You’re in my way.” You protest.

“And you’re not a very good liar, are ya?” He huffed, “Now, if you don’t have my case then who does?”

Not giving a second more, you pulled out your own gun tucked in the waist of your skirt, pushing it against his bare chest, “I think you better stay out of the way before you really get hurt.”

He didn’t bat an eye, but his eyes took a second glance at the tattoos drawn on the side of your middle finger and the top of your knuckles. Suddenly, he placed those hands from memory and the image of them running down his chest struck his mind. He looked back into your eyes and remembered how they kept steady contact as your tongue glided down his body.

“It’s been a while since Copenhagen, yeah?” He said, clenching his jaw once more.

Shit. Maybe you shouldn’t have doubted him so much.

“Well you’re not fooling me this time.” He grunted, quickly taking your gun while your guard was down for a split second, “I’ll give you one last chance, love. Tell me where the case is and maybe, I’ll be and gentleman and just escort you off at the next stop.”

“So cute how you’re trying to threaten me yet use a pet name. Guess I just know how to get to your soft spot, Tan.” You grinned, placing your hand on his cheek.

Mesmerized, a gloss smooths over his eyes before his phone vibrates in his pants pocket.

“Do you wanna get that or have me reach in there?” You taunted.

He replied with an eye roll, but quickly answered. “Yeah, what?” Tangerine answered, his eyebrow cocked.

A low voice told him that they needed to see proof of the case at the next stop or things could go south. Tangerine quickly hangs up during mid-threat, and you twist your lips.

“Since you can’t find your case, I assume you’re the one getting off at the next station.” You smirked, “Glad we got to catch up.”

“No, no, you little pain in my ass. You’re gonna put on a nice smile for these massive dickheads and stall with me…” He tilted his head a bit, “As far as I know, you know where the case is so I’ll be attached by the hip to you for the rest of the lovely ride to Kyoto.” Tangerine yammered on.

You rolled your eyes but he held your chin, making you look him in the eyes, “I’m sorry, does that bother you now?”

“Hmm, no. Just kind of sweet to know you haven’t forgotten about me.” You purposefully teased, your palm running down his chest before opening another button of his shirt with your one hand. It was a tactic to get under his skin, hoping to get some sort of reaction.

“You’re some tease who left me in Copenhagen, I’ve dealt with shots to the fuckin’ chest. You really think highly of yourself, don't ya.” He deflects but glances at your soft lips. 

You grinned, placing your hand on his cheek, “I don’t think I have to remind you of how low I’ll stoop to get a job done… or kneel.”

Tangerine felt your hand moving through the back of his hair, carding his loose curls before pressing your foreheads together. The tip of your nose brushed against his, your lips barely touching until the train came to a slow stop.

“Well, I guess it’s time to put on a good fucking act.” You huffed, pulling away and Tangerine didn’t realize he forgot to take a breath.

♡ ♡ ♡

He turned around, opening the bathroom door in one swift motion and the two of you stood by the exit. After quickly texting Lemon that he was going to stall, he gives you a look again– this time, his eyes shifting up and down your body, noticing the tear in your stockings. He knew you were up to something, but resisting the urge to press you up against a wall was making him ache a bit.

As the train door opened, Tangerine took a step toward you, “If anything goes down, you get behind me and get back on. Other than that, follow my lead.”

You nodded, “I have limited options… how generous of you.”

The two of you step off the train, and looking around for the men you’re asked to meet. As passengers got on and off, there was a small group that came your way and you stood next to Tangerine as they got closer.

“Where’s the case?” The tall one asked, standing center of the three other men.

“Lemon is keeping it safe right now.”

“Then who’s this?” 

Tangerine glanced at you, shrugging, “I’m a professional, I’ve got my back up… Peach.”

You wanted to narrow your eyes at him with a burning stare, but you maintained your composure to convince them. It was one step closer to getting the case, and it wasn’t the worse operative name.

The four men chuckle at it, and you cross your arms from the reaction, “So, are we done here?” You asked, “We’ve obviously got places to be now since your boss is up our asses about his case.” 

At first, they replied with scowls until Tangerine took a step in front of you, your chest basically touching his back.

“‘Cuse her attitude, it’s been a long night.” Tangerine acted as if he were in charge of you, “But, we’re all good now. The plan is still Kyoto, ta-ra now.” He faked a grin, pushing you toward the door as the alert sounded for boarding.

Before you knew it, the train was moving and the both of you plopped into two empty seats in the quiet car. As you watched Tangerine type out a text to Lemon, you scoffed, crossing your arms as you faced the window out to the city life of Japan.

♡ ♡ ♡

“Well, Lemon still hasn’t found the person with the case… fucker could have gotten off without us knowing.” 

You turned your head, “So, that’s means I’m off the list of the accused?”

“...I just don’t trust you.” He trailed, slipping his phone back into his pants pocket.

“Aw, still a little hurt from our last encounter?” You pouted, “Didn’t take you for such a softie, Tan.”

Tangerine clenched his jaw. He had little patience for your sass, but it was fun to fuck with him. You gently placed your hand on the top of his thigh, hidden under the table, and refused to lose eye contact with him. There were four stops left so, it was time to put a spontaneous plan B into motion: make him let his guard down for you.

You batted your eyelashes, “Tell me, do you still think about our night together? I didn’t mean to leave so quickly, but we had something… yeah?” You taunted him, your hand moving up his thigh. Just as your fingers were going to unbutton his pants, Tangerine quickly grabbed your wrist and put it back on his knee.

“You wanna play games, darling?” He grunted, “Then, I’ll play your game.”

You couldn’t help but admit that your heart beat against your chest, like the air in the cart had been sucked away and before you knew it, his right hand was running up your thigh until he ripped the rest of your stocking. You almost gasped, not wanting to attract attention, but he pulled it enough where your panties were exposed.

“Don’t get shy on me now, love.” Tangerine said under his breath as his hand entering between your legs. Once he pushed the black lace to the side, his two thick fingers entered your slit. The hand you had on his thigh suddenly met the wrist of his hand working your pussy.

His blue eyes softened, feeling how wet you already were and how you tried to restrain from arching your back against the seat. Being in plain light, you bit your bottom lip and concentrated on the scene passing by– obviously, not easy to focus on when Tangerine is gliding his fingers in and out of your wet slit. You could scream, knowing how deep they were from feeling his cool rings against your skin.

“I’d rub your clit, but I’d hate to make you cum right here… in front of everyone.” He looked around, as if he weren’t edging you, “You don’t really deserve to anyways.”

You took one big gulp, your hand gripping the arm rest now and you let him keep going. For as long as he wanted to and however fast he wanted to. As big of a talk you made, you were suddenly puddy in his hands– quite literally– and God, you didn’t want him to stop.

He pressed his lips against your ear, “Are you close?”

“Hmm.” You could barely let out a word, “N-no.”

“Don’t lie to me now so you can cum.” He chuckled.

Just like that, he quickly pulled his hand away and he saw how his fingers were coated in your glistening cum. As he went to place them in his mouth, you pulled his wrist and tasted your own cum on your tongue. 

All he could think was, “Fuck, her tongue is soft…” and reminisce the memory of his dick pushing down your throat.

You kissed his fingers before setting his hand back on his lap, and he watched you pant. Such a beautiful mess, he thought again.

Pushing your skirt back down, you crossed your legs as you ran your fingers through your hair. “You fucking ripped my nice tights…” You huffed, pulling the band from the waist and pulling them down your legs. You balled them up as you put your shoes back on, and stuffed them between the wall of the train and the seat.

You blew a breath past your lips, “Alright, that was fun but I gotta go.” You gulped, attempting to get up but he pushed your leg back down so you basically say back down.

“You’re stayin’ right here.” He said, not looking at you but around the cart, “Because the next stop, you’re gettin’ off… not like how you did right now but-”

You cut him off, “What?” You scoffed, your cheeks feeling heated, “No, I’m not getting off this train until I have the case!”

You didn’t mean to spill your own secret, but your guard had been put down. Shit.

He smirked, “See, I knew you had somethin’ to do with the case. Now you’re definitely gettin’ off at the next stop or I’ll-”

Cut off again, he sees Lemon walking down, also without the case in hand, and Tangerine quickly gets up. He met him halfway in the aisle, so you got up to see what was going on and if it was about the case.

“Who’s this? Looks familiar…” Lemon trailed as he pointed at you, then back at Tangerine.

“She’s no one-”

“Actually we passed each other in Copenhagen. You called me an Emily.” You grinned, tilting your head.

“Ah, yes. Emily, very kind but a tad bossy…” Lemon nodded but then narrowed his eyes, “Lookin’ for the case too, yeah?... unless you have it and we’re runnin’ around like headless chickens.” You could see his hand reaching into his jacket.

“I wish. Trust me…” You crossed your arms.

“Yeah, and she was just leaving on the next stop. No business being around here, muckin’ about.” Tangerine said without looking at you again, just making eye contact with Lemon.

“You treat me like I’m incompetent yet I beat both your asses back in Copenhagen and managed to steal the getaway car. Why don’t you two leave and let me handle whoever has the case.” You shoved past Tangerine, “Fucking amateurs.” You muttered under your breath.

Lemon turned around, Tangerine behind him, “She’s definitely is an Emily.”

Tangerine rolled his eyes, “I’ll go get take care of her. You check back down that way.” He clenched his jaw, pushing back his rolled sleeves.

♡ ♡ ♡

The door opened to the first class cart, already imagining your hands wrapped around the Prince’s neck once you had an eye on her. Dim orange lights lit your way, a few people asleep with blankets on top of them. 

Just as you came close to the lounge toward the end, a hand gripped your wrist. Before asking any questions, your other hand quickly swung down on the other’s wrist, thinking it was the Prince, but you were met with another set of bright eyes.

“Let go of me.” You muttered under your breath, not trying to get anyone’s attention.

Like deja vu, Tangerine pulled you into the bathroom and locked the door. It wasn’t as tight as the other passenger bathroom, but still had little room to move around with two people.

“Do I gotta tell you again?” Tan practically growled.

“You can’t tell me what to do. What do you want from me that you keep cornering me like this?” Your tone matched his.

He took a deep breath through his nostrils, and suddenly felt the tension. He couldn’t take his eyes from you, never admitting that he had been thinning about you since Copenhagen, so instead his lips met yours.

You weren’t surprised, but you missed his lips. You bit his bottom lip, your body relaxing as you fell into his arms. Your noses brushed together, foreheads close before you unbuttoned his shirt, your hands meeting his soft skin. It slipped past his toned arms, and he pressed your hips against the sink counter.

As you lifted your leg by his side, he put his hand underneath your knee to keep it high. Tangerine kissed and nipped at your neck after taking your shirt off, tossing it on top of the closed toilet seat. You ran your fingers through his messy curls, gripping them as you shared hungry kisses. His hard pressed against his slacks, rubbing against your inner thigh.

“You’ve got about four minutes, Tan.” You said between kisses, “I don’t know if you’re that fast.”

“You underestimate me, love.” He grunted, “It’s gettin’ a bit old.”

Suddenly, he hiked your skirt and you played along, spreading your legs enough for his body to move between them. He quickly unzipped his pants while his right hand rubbed your wet clit and the left hand against your neck. 

You giggled, biting your bottom lip before slipping the tip of his cock into your pussy. You held back your gasp, giggling instead to get a rise out of him, but it just made him squeeze your neck a bit.

“Almost forgot how big you were.” You pouted, but he thrusted inside of you. You audibly gasped, and kissed his thumb pressed against your bottom lip.

At first he was slow-paced, purposefully making you beg for it. He knew your weak spots yet his head fell against your shoulder, a light whimper escaping his throat remembering how tight your cunt was. He held your leg up again, giving him an angle to work with and his cock bottomed out inside your pussy.

“Fuck!” You croaked, “God, you’re so… big. Stretching me out so good, baby.” You whined.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” Tan cursed, his hips bucking as your skins slapped together. He was eager to make you cum, shattering in his arms and falling apart like he adored. His hand slapped against your ass cheek, kneading it the closer he got. 

You leaned your head back, rolling your eyes back and could see stars, Tangerine practically lifting you off your feet as your walls began to tighten around his hard cock.

“Please… please let me cum.” You begged, your eyes barely open, “I wanna cum. Please.”

“Gotta beg a little more, darling.” He gulped as his pace got faster, not realizing how strong he was, “Keep those pretty eyes lookin’ at me.”

You arched your back, “Ah, please!… I want your fucking cum filling me up. Make me cum all over your cock, baby.” Your pitch elevated, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum!”

He grunted against your shoulder, giving it a small bite before saying, “Cum, cum for me, love.” He lighty gasped but tried to mask it by kissing your shoulder.

Your fingers pulled his messy curls, not able to explain the complete bliss running throughout every vein and nerve in your body. His hand covered your mouth just as yours covered his, muffing your defeated moans when the two of your released inside your pussy.

As you came down from your highs, the two of you let out tired chuckles. His cock was still inside you, feeling your warm walls as he shared one last sloppy kiss. 

Your thumb ran across his cheek, “Better than Copenhagen?”

He half-smiled, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Ultimately, you agreed to let them take it from there. It was two more stops, and the train was coming to it’s next destination. You and Tangerine stood by the door, watching it slowly open and your stubbornness was eating you up. Although it was a risk to get off the train, seemed there was more than the two of you looking for the case. If anything, you loss some pay.

“You better get off now.” Tangerine told you, the two of you watching people pass.

You hummed, “I know… hope you can tell me how it goes if we ever meet again.” You sighed, placing your hands on his chest. Your eyes met with his, and he furrowed his brows. You twisted your hips, taking a deep breath before quickly meeting your lips with his again. Tender and slow.

 As you pulled your face from his, you nodded, “Bye, Tangerine.”

He expected for you to pass, and he actually thought he was going to miss you.

Instead, you forcefully pushed him out the door and it closed him out from coming back in. You rolled your eyes, walking up to the window as you watched the train pull from the station.

“I really am good.” You smirked.

[vodika-vibes]

Just submitting another Jango request. Go nuts love.

The Reason

Summary: You seem to always be the sacrificial lamb, be it for your parents or your extended family. You hope that history won’t repeat itself with Jango.

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 1821

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So this started out as one thing, and turned into another, lol. The ending is rather open-ended, I think. It can either continue on to canon, or veer off into AU territory, and I kind of love it.

You sit in front of the vanity in the small side room set aside for Brides to get ready for their big day. Your hair is done, as is your makeup, and you’re already dressed in your down and jewelry.

And you asked your bridesmaids, mother, and grandmother to give you a few moments to yourself.

As you stare at yourself in the mirror, you realize that you don’t recognize the woman staring back at you.

Your hair had been straightened, curled, and then pinned up with diamonds and flowers and diamond flowers. Your makeup is caked on your face. Your dress is tight and not at all your preferred style. The jewelry is big and expensive and gaudy—

You might look like a bride, but you feel like a prisoner about to be walked to the execution chamber.

Only, no one is going to give you a stay of execution.

You press a carefully manicured hand over your heart and lean over slightly, releasing a slightly shaky breath.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. 

Your soon-to-be husband is…well, he’s not a good man. Not by any definition of the word, but he’s apathetic enough about you that he won’t hurt you. In fact, you’re pretty sure that, after today, you’ll only see him on major holidays.

You’ll be little more than his perfect little trophy wife.

Pretty and delicate. Always perfectly done with perfect hair and nails and makeup.

You close your eyes and the lonely life you’re being saddled with stretches out in front of you. You’ll be isolated from your friends, and forced to make other acquaintances who better match the aesthetic that your husband will want you to maintain.

Your hand flies from your chest, to press over your mouth as a sob threatens to rip from your throat.

There’s a knock on the door, and you immediately straighten and drop your hand, shoving all of your emotions back into the little box deep within your heart. “It’s open,” You call, your voice soft and delicate and pretty.

Gods. Who have you become?

The door clicks open, and your Maid of Honor steps into the room. Lanai is Miralian and has been your best friend since both of you were in diapers, and you picked the bridesmaid outfits solely based on what would look good with her deep green skin.

She shuts the door and walks over to you, lightly setting her hands on your bare shoulders, squeezing gently. Her dark gaze is locked with yours, and she smiles softly.

“Oh, Dove.” Lanai wraps her arms around your shoulders from behind and presses the side of her head against yours, “You’re so unhappy.”

For a moment, your facade crumbles, and the picture-perfect woman in the mirror reveals herself to be you. Just you.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” You admit as you wrap your hands around her arms, “Look at me, Lanai. I…I don’t know this woman.”

Lanai’s arms tighten around you, but she doesn’t say anything. And then she drops a kiss to your temple and releases you to walk over to the closet.

“What are you doing?” You ask as you turn on your chair to watch her.

Lanai digs through the closet for a moment and then pulls out a worn denim backpack. Your old backpack, from high school. It’s covered in patches, drawings, and signatures. 

A small smile crosses your face at the sight. “Where did you find this?” You ask, “I thought mother threw it away.”

“She did,” Lanai replied, “I saved it, and stored it in my closet.” She pauses and trails a finger over a tooka patch, “Do you remember our plan when we were in high school?”

“Yeah. We were going to leave this place. We were going to save up money for a ship and travel the galaxy and write a book about the different people and places we saw.” Your smile is small and fond, though it fades quickly, “Guess we should have known it was never going to happen.”

Lanai’s smile is tragic, and you take an aborted step towards her.

She presses the bag into your hands, “Open it.”

You shoot her a confused look but unzip the bag and peer in. And then the confusion morphs into genuine surprise as you pull out an outfit that better suits your tastes.

And, at the bottom of the bag is a folder. Inside the folder is the proof of purchase for a small ship called Red Robin, as well as the keys to start it.

“Lanai, what—?”

“I saw the writing on the wall when we were still seniors,” She says, “The other girls are stalling the wedding, the pastor is going to be very, very late. You have time to change and run.”

You flip towards the back of the folder and pause when you see a new ID card and everything you’d need for a brand new identity.

“Lanai—?”

“We love you. All we want is for you to be happy. And you won’t be happy here.”

You stare at your best friend and feel tears prick the corner of your eyes, “I’m going to miss you so much,”

Lanai flings her arms around you, “I know. I’ll miss you too. But this isn’t goodbye forever. It’s just…until we see each other again.” She pulls back and wipes a tear off her cheek, “Now, let’s get you out of this get-up.”

A shaky laugh falls from you as she starts pulling gems out of your hair and drops them on the floor as though they’re worthless, “How’d you remember the ship name we picked out when we were six?”

“Because I’m amazing, that’s how. Now shush, we have to be quick. Here’s a makeup wipe to get that gunk off your face—”

Exactly one hour later, the Red Robin leaves atmosphere.

Three years later, you’ve made a name for yourself as a transport pilot who is quite skilled at dealing with pirates, cartels, and everything in between. You’ve made friends with Jedi and bounty hunters.

And, so far as you can tell, no one is looking for the run-away bride who you used to be.

You’re just glad that you’re able to be you again.

You’ve recently dyed your hair dark pink and added three more tattoos to your ever-growing collection. 

Today, though, you’re taking a vacation day. 

A vacation day on a very nice space station, where you’re nursing something fruity and sweet and is probably 85% alcohol. You cheerfully stick the umbrella back into the drink and flick it so it twirls around the pale blue liquid, and start to seriously consider a beach vacation on Scarif when someone knocks on your table.

You lean back and peer up into the very amused face of Jango Fett.

“Jango!” You beam at him and kick the chair out for him, “Have a seat! It’s been ages!”

He sinks into the chair next to you and steals your drink to take a sip. “Yeah, yeah. I was on the other side of the galaxy. On a job.”

“I figured,” You beam at him, “Still, it’s nice to see you. I miss you when you’re not around.”

He flashes you a small smirk, and takes another sip of your drink, “You know, I’m pretty sure this is just alcohol flavored with sugar.”

You shrug, “Probably. Anyway, what brings you here?”

“You, actually.”

“Oh?”

Jango drops a bounty puck between you and activates it with a press of a button. Your face appears on the holo.

You blink at yourself, and then at Jango, “Someone put a bounty on me?”

“Please tell me you’re not flattered about this,” He says with a sigh.

“Surprised, mostly.” You lean in and squint at the holo, “My hair hasn’t been that color in years, and that outfit!”

“It’s your face, but it’s not your name, Dove.” Jango replies, “I was contacted by a man who said that his bride-to-be vanished on their wedding day. I don’t suppose you have an explanation?”

“It was supposed to be a political marriage. I would have had more freedom as a prisoner.” You explain, “I’m not going back, Jango.”

He sighs and leans back in his chair, “Apparently your family misses you. And I can’t believe you never mentioned this to me.”

“They can continue missing me. The only way you’ll get me back there is in a body bag.” You reply as you steal your drink back and take a sip. “And it’s something that I wanted to forget.”

He folds his arms, “You’re so stubborn.”

“I will not be anyone’s trophy wife.” You hiss as you lean across the table, “Ever.” You frown when you see the tiny smile on Jango’s face, “Why are you smiling like that?”

His smile widens, “I’ve been offered a job. A long job.”

You stare at him, confused, “Okay?”

“I want you to come with me.”

“...what?”

“Because you’re talented and clever,” Jango replies, “And you read people the way that most people read books, and I need that.”

“For what?!”

He leans in, “I was contacted by someone who, I’m pretty sure, is a sith,”

“You’re fucking with me,”

“I’m not.”

“You can’t help the Sith, Jango. Do you remember anything good happening when the Sith were involved? Like. Ever?” You demand.

He leans in a little more, “Listen, they want me to go to Kamino and allow myself to be cloned.”

“That’s the dumbest damn thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“I have a plan.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to let them, and then I’m going to take the clones and retake Mandalore.” Jango’s smile is sharp, “Kriff the rest of the galaxy, and kriff the sith.”

“You’re going to start a war.”

“Wars going to happen with or without me,” Jango points out, “This way, I get to control the narrative.”

“And why do you want me?”

“Like I said, you’re clever and you’re good at reading people. I need people following me who I can trust.” He pauses, “People I can trust like how I trust you.”

“Jango—”

“Also, they’re giving me a clone to raise as a son, and he’s going to need a mom.”

“Wow, that’s romantic.” You say sarcastically.

“Come on, Dove. You know I love you.”

“This is stupid, Jango. You know that, right? I mean, it’s going to take years—”

“They’re going to have increased aging for 10 years.” He explains, “Cyare, please, I need you on this.”

You sigh softly, “Alright, Jango. I’ll help. But if this goes wrong—”

“I’ll protect you. I swear it.” He takes your hand and presses a light kiss to your knuckles, “So…will you marry me now?”

You know that this whole thing can go wrong in millions of ways. But right here, right now, you decide to trust Jango. That’s what it is to love someone, right?

[mynameismckenziemae]

can you do a bob x reader? anything w protective bob? i’m a sucker for a “who did this to you?” trope🤭 i trust your creativity and writing, take any liberties!!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! A-hole ex boyfriends, talks of previous domestic abuse, violence, blood, (non consensual) derogatory language, a little smutty-smut at the end.

This is a bonus scene from Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone (first chapter here)

________________________________________

“We’re meeting the caterers at the venue at 5 but otherwise we don’t have anything planned for today,” you tell Bob as you brush mascara on your lashes.

You were back home in Minnesota with Bob for a long weekend to see family and do some wedding planning.

“What would you do on a cold rainy day growing up?” Bob asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Roller skating, but the rink closed shortly after I graduated high school, otherwise we’d go to the mall or the movies. That’s actually where I had my first kiss with Andrew Fischer,” you sigh dreamily just to tease him.

He’s on to you though and pinches your butt. “Can I take you to the movies?”

“I’d love that. Maybe you’ll get a kiss too, if you’re lucky.”

________________________________________

“I’ll drop you by the door and meet you inside after I park,” Bob says as he pulls into the lot.

“Thanks, not sure you’d want to be seen with me if my hair were to get wet,” you laugh as you check it in the mirror. Your hair was a curly mess on a good day; the humidity was making it borderline out of control.

He shifts into park and grips your knee before you get out. “I love your hair, and there’s nothing about you that would make me embarrassed to be seen with you, Sun.”

You’d been kidding but the reassurance was always nice.

“Love you,” you smile and press a kiss to his lips. “Meet you in there.”

________________________________________

You wait in the quiet lobby, humming to yourself while you watch for Bob.

“Sunny?”

A cold chill runs down your spine at that voice.

“Hi Di-Derek,” you say, almost calling him dickhead (Bradley’s fitting nickname for your ex-boyfriend).

You haven’t seen him since you caught him in bed with another woman and were happy to see he looks awful

“I thought that was you, I thought I’d say hi since I was walking past. What are you doing here? Last I heard you were still in Cali, fucking some guy in the army,” he says casually, like what he just said isn’t extremely offensive.

“I-I’m not…we’re-,” you stutter but trail off as he keeps talking, stepping closer as your back hits the wall.

“You know, you could lose a few pounds, and fix this god-awful hair,” he says, tugging none too gently on a strand, smiling at your wince. “Otherwise you look good. I’d still fuck you.”

“I suggest you back away from my fiancé,” Bob says lowly from behind you both.

“Fiancé? Why didn’t you say so?” Derek laughs in your face before pushing away from you and turning to Bob. “I’m Derek, Sunny’s-“

“Pathetic ex who cheated on her,” Bob finishes for him.

Derek’s fuming as he laughs cruelly. “Can you blame me? I know she was cheating on me too. Always gone, always begging for other guys' attention like the slut-“

You flinch at the sickening crack of his nose when Bob’s fist meets his nose.

“What the fuck?! You’re gonna regret that. I’m calling the cops,” he sputters as he reaches for his phone, blood pouring from his obvious broken nose.

“I wouldn’t do that, Derek,” you say, finding your voice. “Unless you want to be sitting in jail too.”

“Why?! He hit me?!” He says, shaking with rage as he tries to stem the flow of blood with his coat sleeve.

“Remember that night at the Hard Deck? When you grabbed my arms and slammed my head against the wall? Not only do I have pictures of the bruises you left but Penny has the video of it too,” you say, proud that your voice isn’t trembling.

“I barely touched your arms! And I didn’t slam your head against-whatthefuckever, it doesn’t matter anyway—that was months ago! It wouldn’t hold up in court,” he argues.

“Maybe, maybe not. But Bob here is one of those ‘top 1% naval aviators’ along with Bradley and Jake-who haven’t gone after you only because I said not to. You have no idea what lengths the Navy would go to protect them and how easily things can get swept under the rug,” you saw lowly.

His face pales when he realizes your implication and scrambles to his feet, muttering a half-assed apology before running outside.

Bob checks you over before wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head, “I’m okay. I never cheated on him, you know that, right?” You murmur against his chest.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I know you didn’t. Do you want to get out of here?”

You take a deep breath. “No, I’m not going to let him ruin our day.”

________________________________________

“Is your hand okay?” You ask as you take your assigned seats.

“Yeah it’s fine, I didn’t hit him that hard.”

“Hard enough to break his nose,” you laugh. “It’s gonna hurt like a bitch when they set it.”

“Good,” he says darkly.

“Was that the first time you’ve punched someone?”

“Besides when I was a kid fighting with my brother? Yeah.”

The previews start but you can’t seem to forget how hot it was when Bob didn’t hesitate to defend you. It reminded you of something.

“Do you remember the night we met and you scared of that jackass who called me a whore at the Hard Deck?” You whisper.

“Yeah, I remember everything from that night,” he responds, brushing hair off your forehead.

You smile. “Then you remember what I said after?”

His eyes darken as he recalls. “You said too bad we’d just met because you wanted to get on your knees to show your gratitude.”

You nod as you sink to your knees in front of him.

“Right now? Here?” He whispers as he looks around. But it’s just the two of you in the empty theater.

He’s already hard when pull him out of his gray sweatpants. You waste no time and use your hands with your mouth to work him over.

His head falls back with a low groan as he cums, filling your mouth as the opening credits come across the screen.

Just as you sit back down, an elderly couple enters the theater, sitting just a few seats over.

You can’t help but giggle when Bob shakes his head with a chuckle of his own.

________________________________________

Later you send a message to the group chat as Bob drives to the caterer.

Sunny: Guess who we saw today?

Rowan: Please don’t say Derek.

Sunny: It was Derek.

Bradley: *dickhead.

Sunny: Yeah…I almost called him that 😬

Bradley: Why didn’t you?

Sunny: I was waiting for Bob to park and he kinda had against the wall.

Bob parks and checks his phone.

Bob: He literally had her against the wall when I walked in.

Nat: OMG Sunny! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?

Rowan: Holy shit! Are you alright?!

Jake: What the fuck?! I’m gonna fucking kill him. I should’ve that night.

Bradley: ^Agreed.

Sunny: It’s okay. I was a little shaken up but I’m okay too.

Rowan: Thank God. How’d you get him to leave you alone?

Sunny: Bob rearranged his face with his fist ☺️

Jake: HELL YEAH!

Bradley: That’s my boy!

Nat: Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more Bob. 😍

Jake: Hey!

Nat: 😘

Rowan: Hahaha that’s awesome! Did he call the cops though? I could definitely see him calling the cops

Bob: He was going to until Sunny put him in his place.

Sunny: I brought up the pictures I took of the bruises and the video Penny sent me. I also told him how Jake and Bradley would have no problem going after him. I might’ve also said that the Navy wouldn’t hesitate to cover for them too 🤫

Jake: Fuckin ‘a right!

Bradley: I’d gladly sit in prison for that.

Rowan: ^That’s fine, but only if there are conjugal visits

Bradley: Duh 🙄

Rowan: Watch it Bradley…

Bradley: Yes ma’am 🫡

Jake: Gross…

Jake: Kidding, please go on. I wanna see how this plays out.

Nat: ^Agreed🍿

Sunny: Lolol I love you guys.

You silence your phone with a smile as Bob opens your door and offers his hand.

________________________________________

A/N: I hope I did it justice @lexixstewart

Tagging (please lmk if I’m annoying you by tagging you! I’ll take you off my taglist!):

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd5

@charmedkim

@k-k0129

@bellaireland1981

@ingoaliesitrust

@hookslove1592

@amiets2

@nero4te

@eli2447

@atarmychick007

@vixenobrian

[im-robins-bitch]

hey, can you maybe write a fic about X (x ray) in you Robin Buckley headcanons?

I thought the idea was rlly different

Thank you for the request, I'm sorry it's a little shorter than I intended. I struggled with writing this, it probably turned out sadder than you wanted.

Give yourself a try (r.b x gn!reader)

Or, Robin is struggling and not letting you help, so you do the only thing you can think of to get her to stop and breathe. (1.1.1k)

Warnings: panic attack, self-hatred on Robin's part, reader lifts their shirt to show off their chest, but no descriptors of their chest, just that they lifted their shirt and Robin liked it. No explicit gendered language to describe the reader.

Robin Buckley feels like a dream wrapped in a bow. It’s a miracle she doesn’t just glide across the floor rather than walk because she feels comparable to the Greek gods you’ve heard about. Aphrodite cannot hold a candle to her. You’re sure any sound from her trumpet would make music from Apollo comparable to a child practising the recorder. 

You’ve been hit hard by Cupid's arrow. 

Robin is just so perfect… Ok, maybe not perfect.

She’s awful at applying bandaids, so whenever she’s trying to break in new shoes you find plasters all over the house. Fallen from her skin from her dismal application. They trail across the house, leading you straight to her everytime. 

She leaves all the kitchen cabinet doors open, which has resulted in you gaining multiple bruises. She’s also really forgetful. Her head is so full, different facts and tasks fluttering around, so sometimes a couple of bits get lost. She started writing things down on her hands, things she didn’t want to forget. Though, at the end of the day they would just be multi-coloured smudges, reminders of fleeting memories. 

Still, you would rather peel bandaids off the floor, to find Robin at the end of the trail than have nothing to follow or find at all. Plus you think it’s cute, the small notebook she keeps with her that has important dates written down, things she wanted to talk to you about. 

You’re utterly charmed by her idiosyncrasies, her faults, her Robinisms. 

When you first began dating Robin, it felt like spinning gold, too good to be true. You simply thought you were the luckiest person in the world to call Robin Buckley your girlfriend. You had your share of bumps in the road, but the two of you toughed it out every time. 

You know her like the back of your hand. Know when she needs a hug without her needing to tell you. Know when she needs space, needs to talk, needs to eat. 

For the first time in a long while, you find yourself unsure of what she needs.

Robin is rambling like she so often is. Usually, you love it, indulging in her thoughts and opinions like an addict. Today though, she’s spiralling. 

It’s like picking at a loose stitch, poking out a jumper, one moment it’s just one little thread, but the more you pull the more it unravels.

“I’m just so sorry you have to put up with me,” she seethes, “I don’t know how you do it,” 

Robin is unravelling faster than you can gather her. 

Every sentence out of her mouth is a scathing insult against herself. Against her character or her appearance. You wonder if she’s been feeling this way for a while, curse yourself for not noticing sooner. 

She’s burning holes in the carpet with how fast she’s walking. She’s circling the kitchen with a velocity you didn’t know she had. Tugging at her hair so hard you think tomorrow you’ll be sweeping up clumps. 

You keep trying to butt in, to get her to just stop for a moment and take a breath. To reassess and realise what a treasure she is. It’s just not working. “Rob-”

“Everybody only puts up with me because of Steve and I bet he secretly hates me, yesterday-”

Robin keeps looking at you for guidance but she just won’t stop. She flinched at your outstretched hands and talked over your every rebuttal. She can see herself falling but can’t bring herself to reach out. She doesn’t know how and isn’t sure she deserves it.

You just want to shake her and yell ‘Stop talking about my girlfriend like that!’ Even so, you just can’t catch her. You didn’t realise she was so athletic, she had no enthusiasm for it in school. You think she would have been the school track star given the chance.

She rounds the counter again, hip bumping unkindly into the corner of a cupboard door. You hiss at the contact. Resist the urge to reach out and soothe the stinging with your warm palm and a dozen kisses. 

“Honey-”

“You probably hate me too” Robin mutters, choking on an angry sob.

You snap. The next time she rounds the corner, you step into her way, cutting off her pacing. She walks into you, unable to stop herself and stumbles backwards a little. She opens her mouth again, undoubtedly to say something cruel about herself. 

Unable to stand it, you do the first thing you can think of to shut her up. You pull up the hem of your shit. Bare chest on full display.

For the first time since you got home, Robin is silent. Her jaw drops cartoonishly, her eyes zoning in on your chest unabashedly. 

You take your chance and further invade her space, dropping your shirt back down again. You wrap your arms around her tightly so you can squeeze some sense and love back into her. She tries to return it, but her arms around you are so loose, so unsure, it hurts your heart. 

She smells like the valve oil she occasionally uses on her trumpet. The smell clings to her clothes. You untuck her face from your chest. Hands firm on her cheek, thumb rubbing up and down her pink-stained cheeks, soothing away her tears. 

“Robin, I adore you more than anyone.” You promise, unable to help yourself when you press a chaste kiss to her lips. “Please never doubt that.”

It cracks her facade, her arms once limp curl around you. She squeezes and clings to you like a lifeline and cries with ferocity into your neck. Her anger is gone and left is the ache of sadness, made worse by her exhaustive anger. 

You cradle her against your chest, hand tracing shapes into her back the way you know she likes. 

“I-I don’t…” She starts, unable to form a thought coherent enough to be worth saying. She’s still crying heavily, trying to understand the swirl of unpleasant emotions turning her stomach. Her chest is still thumping with anxiety, a tightness constricting her chest that makes it all worse. 

Even now, consoled by your confession of love, the leftovers of her extreme emotion remain. She tries to calm herself, but it takes time to adjust when it feels like you have just been stood at the edge of a building. 

“It’s okay, my love, cry all you need.” You say breathing steadily. You hold one of her hands to your chest, encouraging her to match her breathing to yours. 

She’s tired of crying, of feeling this way. She isn’t ready to talk about it but she knows you need to, she needs to. It won’t be solved overnight, things rarely can be, but talking about it will start the process. You’ll be there to help her, even if you can’t mend it all, you’ll listen.

You’ll talk when she’s ready, but until then, you’re content to hold her in your arms.

masterlist

[lovetgr76]

S1e3 Bad Tradecraft *updated*

While there is no DIRECT Standish/Lamb interaction this episode, there is mention of… - so let's see what's going on this episode!!

Jumping into the episode… about 2/3 through, Lamb and Taverner are sitting on a bench next to the canal.  it’s past 2 am and they both look exhausted after trying to press each other’s buttons and finding out what the other knows without giving up anything themselves.

Taverner sighs… then tries to work the ONLY angle she knows works on Lamb… every time… Standish.

Was Moody alone when he died? – Taverner

We’re all alone in the end, don’t you think Diana.  In those final moments… – Lamb

If he did have company, that company might come under intense scrutiny. – Taverner

By all means, call in the Dogs.  And when they’re finished tearing you apart, maybe they’ll have enough strength to pick at the rest of this.  Either way I couldn’t give a monkey’s – Lamb

Even if it was Standish? – Taverner

                *This gets Lamb’s attention, and he looks at her the moment she mentions Standish, he’s seems upset, frustrated maybe, that she knows what to say… Lamb should have no weaknesses, no favorites, and yet… Taverner goes right for the jugular when she makes any type of threat against Standish.  His reaction seems visceral*

You’re tossin’ darts.  Standish wasn’t there.  She’s at home asleep. – Lamb

I’m not talking about tonight.  I’m talking about the night Charles Partner died.  Catherine Standish came very close to a treason charge.  That file could be reopened, reassessed. – Taverner

                *Lamb is seen shaking his head*

                *Another note to say – I always think…  how was Standish so surprised at Lamb’s revelation in S3 about Partner being a traitor – when she herself was accused of possible treason after his death? Because Taverner says this time they could make it stick – so it was at least attempted in the past? ... Lamb telling Standish that Partner wasn’t saving her he was (fuckin’) USING her!! – because Partner made it seem like she was doin’ the dirty – which tbh at first I took to mean they were having an affair – but then I realize it’s the trail of treason? That Taverner ends up threatening Lamb with here?... possibly? – open to other interpretations!!*

Didn’t fly then. It won’t fly now. – Lamb

A lot of other things might come out. – Taverner

                *Lamb leans in and seems to inflect a bit of a threat in his voice*

That is not a can of worms you want to open. – Lamb

Do I look keen?  Like it or not, Slough House is part of this now. You’ll all get turned over. Standish will find out some things it would be better for her not to know. – Taverner

                *My personal take on this is that Taverner couldn’t give a monkey’s about what’s better for Standish to know, she just likes having this to dangle over Lamb whenever she wants to manipulate him in some way.*

                *Lamb seems resigned to his fate here… leans back, crosses his legs and looks into his own lap, most likely telling himself, this is NOT a weakness, you’re still a badass spy without any feelings or attachments at all, ever…* (giggles)

I’ll go knock on the door for you. But in return, I want the Standish file. – Lamb

                *Taverner appears visibly surprised at that request, but appears to nod in acquiescence*

                *Lamb makes sure he gets a visible agreement from her before continuing*

And you’ve been using Slough House as your personal toy box, which pisses me off. Are we clear? – Lamb

Crystal. – Taverner

No, there’s more. Moody disappears.  Baker, a victim of street crime. Anyone with me tonight is fireproof. Oh! And you are in my debt until you’re in a care home. – Lamb

God, you really care about them, don’t you? – Taverner

Nah.  I think they’re a bunch of fucking losers. *pause* But they’re MY Losers – Lamb

[sunnynwanda]

Blind or blinded

Part 2

When Hero agreed to a blind date with their colleague’s good friend, they expected “good” to be an indicator of natural virtue. They expected someone as timid and serene as their colleague. Their eyes searched for a meek creature as they entered the restaurant and allowed themselves to be led to their table. 

They did not anticipate finding the most gorgeous yet annoying human being to ever grace the Earth to be seated at said table. Villain. 

How, in all eternity, did they end up on a date with the enemy? Well, they should not have let their guard down. That’s on them. They should’ve paid more attention to Anita, their colleague, who no longer seemed innocent. Was this a scheme all along? The image of her excited face flashes before Hero’s eyes. 

You have so much in common, I’m sure you’ll enjoy each other's company, she had said. Hero couldn’t deny that claim. They were very similar in their cause, yet their methods differed. And that was what mattered the most. Some would say this ‘date’ was bound to happen, given the tension between them and their nemesis. Except, it wasn’t attraction. It was murderous rage. Blinding rage and something else they were never able to pinpoint. 

They knew for a fact that they should have walked out of the restaurant the moment they saw Villain. Yet they did not. An action that did potentially save their life, to be fair. Because Villain would sure as hell murder Hero for standing them up. Brutally and with utmost pleasure. 

“Did you know?” is the first thing Hero says. Their date is about to comment on the lack of a proper greeting when their eyes land on Hero. It takes Villain almost a minute to realize why Hero is there in the first place. 

“Oh sweet hell, no,” they exclaim, shaking their head - for good measure. “Nah. Nope.” 

Hero would be offended if only they did not feel the same way. Villain digests the information that Hero’s presence entails while their nemesis sits there, staring at the other guests. Well, at least the awkwardness reminds them of a real date. 

“I wonder if Anita knows,” Hero starts after a long pause. The tension around the table could be cut with a knife. Thank god no one knows who they are.  

“Of course, she did,“ Villain retorts matter-of-factly. “She knows my identity. I assume she’s discovered yours as well.“ 

The statement snaps Hero’s attention back to their opponent. “Why would you assume that?“ 

“Because... reasons,” Villain trails off, hoping to avoid the discussion. Their hopes, however, are destined to come crashing down.

“What reasons?” Of course. Why did Villain even hope? Luck was never on their side. The lucky dimwit in front of them is proof of that.

“Because if she figured out my complex self, she would crack you like a goddamn pistachio.” Exasperation is evident in their voice, but Hero seems unaffected. And incessantly curious.

“Pistachio?” They see Villain almost smile and can’t help but think that the charming idiot would look even more dashing if they did. 

“The easiest to crack,” Villain explains, accepting a glass of wine from the waiter. Good thing Anita preordered drinks. They’ll need those to survive this evening without casualties. 

“Yeah, except she didn’t,” Hero grins, satisfied with the effect their words inflict on now dumbfounded Villain. “I told her. She never figured me out. Who’s the pistachio then, hm?”

“You know what? This was a dumb idea, anyway. I’m leaving.” Villain stands up, downing their drink in a gulp. Come to think of it, they should team up and murder Anita for putting them in this situation. “Never took her for the scheming type.”

“Wha- wait,” Hero reaches for them, noticing the glances directed at them. They couldn’t care less. “Don’t get all offended. That’s not how I meant it. Besides, Anita might have done this so we can talk and come up with a peace treaty for the holiday season.”

“She’s mentioned that to you too? What is it with her and Christmas?” Villain asks, still standing but not making attempts to walk away. Hero shrugs before gesturing for them to sit back down. Villain, for some unfathomable reason, obliges. “I highly doubt that, given that we’re both painfully stubborn.” 

“Except I do need some time off.” Hero admits, lowering their gaze. Their fingers wrap around the stem of their glass. “Judging by your life, you could use some rest too.” 

“Excuse you. Speak for yourself,” Villain’s incredulous tone makes Hero snort, heart beating in their throat.

“Oh yeah? What hobbies do you have?” they inquire as their gaze travels from Villain’s hands to their face. “Apart from annoying the life out of me, of course.”

“Very funny,” their lips stretch into a thin line. It’s not like annoying Hero isn’t a significant part of their daily entertainment. It’s that they won’t admit to it. “It’s none of your business.” 

“That’s what I thought,” Hero concludes, now plain irritating Villain beyond imagination. Why does this dumbass look so endearing while being implausibly bothersome? Villain’d pay to know. 

“Hey, hold up there,” they protest, leaning over the table. Hero’s smile is playful and challenging. Villain smirks, accepting the rules of the game. “I have a life. It’s you that doesn’t know about it.” 

“Maybe it’s time I learned, then?” With that, Hero turns to the waiter, ordering without a glance at the menu. Villain has to suppress a surprised ‘Oh’ threatening to escape their mouth. This is their favourite restaurant and their favourite dish their enemy just ordered for them. Oh.

Maybe Anita wasn’t so wrong after all, Villain thinks. Maybe they do share more similarities than they care to admit. Maybe, they do have a shot. 

“Maybe,“ unbeknownst to them, Villain thinks out loud. Hero nods, perceiving their words as a reply to their question.

Part 2

Masterlist

[definitelynotamhafan]

A cave at the edge of a universe (Darkness pt.2)

Warnings! Flashbacks.

The day had gone by in a mixture of awkward silence and mistrustful glares, nothing you weren’t used to, of course.

Now, as the sun was setting, your bare feet dug into the still heated sand, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The sound of silence was swirling around you, the wind carrying a salty scent.

The sea. Oh how you missed it. You remembered the days of the first sprouts of plants ever growing on the soil beneath your feet, the way Amun slipped his hand in yours, both of you running along the shore…

No. Amun was gone, he had changed, what use was to dwell in the past if it only caused you pain?

Your screwed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath and going back in the tent. You grabbed a bowl from one of the tables, pouring yourself some water for your parched throat. As you tilted the bowl, your lips pressed against the smooth ceramic carved with depictions of some pharaoh you couldn’t care less about, you felt a pair of eyes on you.

Staring at you, with a glare so sharp that it was burning the back of your head, was Seth.

“Are you just gonna keep glaring at me like that? You’ll get wrinkles.” You said, chuckling.

“You still play that game, huh?” He retorted. “Acting like you aren’t an evil god.”

You paused. Evil? Out of all the words he thought, evil was the way to describe you?

Unfair? Sure. Damned? Yeah, why not. Cursed? Go ahead! Unwanted? Unforgiven? Bring ‘em in! But evil? That didn’t sound right.

“Says the god of chaos.” You said. “At least I’m not punished to live as a demigod.”

Now it was Seth’s turn to go silent.

“You know?” He asked.

“Of course I do. I can smell it on you. Half god, half human. Such a pitiful punishment.”

“What did you just say about my punishment, you asshat?!” He snapped

“You heard me first, Weasley!” You retorted.

“…what?” He asked confused.

“Nevermind, you wouldn’t get it. What did you do to deserve that shit anyways?” You asked, putting the ceramic bowl down and tilting your hunting dog headdress back.

“I cut Osiris into pieces.” Seth said, looking away.

You paused.

One beat.

Two beats.

And then you burst out laughing.

“Fuck yeah! That green pea-looking bastard deserved it!” You managed to say between laughs.

Seth was stunned. I mean quite literally shook™️. He had no idea that someone would actually hate Osiris this much to agree with him.

“Really?” He asked.

“Of course! That dude is wayyyyy too obsessive for his own good. He didn’t do anything to you, right?” Your expression turned serious at the end. “Right?”

———

“HE DID WHAT?!” You gasped. “Oh you poor thing…” you extended your hand out to Seth, wrapping it around his shoulders comfortingly.

The way his head rested against your chest, it felt just like-

“Am-heh! Wait up!” Ra called out, running after you. “Slow down, love.” He whispered, trailing kisses on your skin as soon as he reached you.

“And if I don’t?” You teased.

“Then I might just make sure you can’t run away.” He winked.

“Oh? And how is that?” You inched closer, your faces inches apart.

“We’ll find out tonight, won’t we?” He teased, before turning into his female form, guiding your hands to her waist. “You won’t run away from me, right?”

“Never.” You sealed her lips.

-no. Not again. You pulled yourself together, ignoring the throbbing pain at the back of your head. Amun-Ra was gone. She wasn’t the same anymore. Now she was just Ra, goddess of the sun. Not your dear Amun. Once the love of your life, who couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you created the stars, embroidering the sky with their light, or creating the fabric of the Nile from your cloak of darkness. They weren’t the same. They would never be. Never again.

“You still don’t trust me?” You teased Seth a little bit.

“Maybe a little.” He replied, snuggling against your chest, his breath so deep that you were surprised he hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

Yet one thing couldn’t escape your mind as sleep began closing in on the both of you, as you laid face-up on the bed. The familiar rocks, the darkness surrounding you, the cool breeze seeping in your bones…. Something was calling out to you. And you knew where it was hiding.

In a cave at the edge of the universe, at the end and beginning of time, somewhere where the clock is pointing at the 25th hour, and no ticking will ever be heard. Somewhere where your memories will haunt you forever.

[avenirdelight]

A Little Celebration

Marcus Rashford

She asks Marcus to do a little celebration for her when he scores at the world cup. [Requested]

“Would you do a celebration for me when you score at the world cup?”

Marcus paused on his track. He had just gotten some socks from the wardrobe and was about to put it on the suitcase that he had laid out on the bed. He was packing for the world cup, he was going to leave in a few days.

“‘When’? I think you meant ‘if’. ‘If’ I score at the world cup,” Marcus answered, looking up at her, who was sitting on the bed, watching a match on the TV that she had put on.

“Nah, I’m gonna say ‘when’. I’m manifesting. Also, I just know you’re gonna score.”

Marcus stuffed the socks on the little space he had left on the suitcase and proceeded to lock the straps. “Like I’ve been saying, I’m just gonna try to do my best.”

“But let’s say… You score a goal,” she insisted. “What celebration are you gonna do?”

She turned to him and instantly met his eyes because he was already looking at her. Marcus huffed and put his hands on his waist. He looked like he was thinking.

Marcus certainly didn’t want to hope for too much. Of course he was going to try to score goals, it was his role on the squad, to bring the ball forward and score goals. But, hey, if by the end of this campaign he only ended up with an assist or two, he’d be okay with that. It wasn’t like he was not ambitious or didn’t have personal goals he wanted to achieve. He just thought that the team was the main focus and it would be better for him to start from there.

“I don’t know… Make a heart and point it at you?”

She scoffed. “That’s incredibly lame,” she commented. “Be creative.”

“Celebrations are spontaneous sometimes.” Marcus shrugged and walked to the nearby nightstand where he had put his phone on. “The more important thing is figuring out how I’m gonna make myself useful for the team and get myself on that pitch.”

“Fine. But promise me you’ll do a celebration for me when you score?”

Marcus’ eyes scanned the list that he had on his phone. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I promise.” She had a grin on her face when Marcus looked up at her again, clearly satisfied that she had gotten what she wanted. Marcus rolled her eyes because he’d let her win. “Now can you help me find my jumper? The white one I wore when we went to my mum’s last week? I can’t find it anywhere,” he asked. She excitedly stood up from the bed and went straight to the wardrobe.

“I swear to God, Marcus, if I find it in thirty seconds…” He heard her trail off. Marcus let out a sigh and found himself smiling.

That lady he was going to marry could be annoying sometimes, and it’s annoyingly cute. But he knew, when he scored a goal at the world cup, she’d be the first person he would think of.

—

The stadium erupted again with cheers and screams of joy from the England supporters. She jumped and clapped, immediately feeling tears welling up in her eyes. If you ask her to describe the happiness and the proud feeling that were taking over her right now, she wouldn’t be able to put it into words. Marcus had just scored his second goal in this match, third goal for him so far in the tournament.

“Oh, he’s fantastic! Two goals! Two!” Naomi, her friend who was standing behind her, exclaimed as she kept clapping too. But she couldn’t even respond because she was busy taking deep breaths, trying to keep the tears from falling.

Marcus was down there surrounded by his teammates. They were all taking turns to hug him, probably telling him that he’d done a good job. Jude took the last turn, gave Marcus a big hug and a big smile, before leaving Marcus alone. That was when Marcus looked up to the stands. He immediately found her and pointed his finger at her.

“He’s looking at you! He’s pointing at you!” Naomi stated the obvious, patting her on her shoulder.

She gave Marcus two thumbs up and a proud smile, she hoped Marcus noticed that. He walked a little bit closer and she was wondering what he was going to do because he was supposed to go back in position and resume the game.

But then Marcus kneeled on one knee. And with both hands, he made a gesture like he was opening a ring box. Her stomach flipped, and it felt like the air was sucked out of her lungs. Both her hands went to her chest as she choked up, her heart was beating fast. That was the celebration she’d asked from him. She didn’t know whether he had prepared for it or he had done it spontaneously, but he succeeded at making the butterflies in her stomach go crazy.

He was proposing to her. Again. And spontaneously, she nodded her head as if she was accepting his proposal. She held her hand up and flashed him the ring as they both shared a smile. Marcus punched a fist in the air and said ‘yes!’ before quickly standing up and laughing. Marcus sent her a flying kiss before he turned around and walked back to the pitch.

“What does that even mean?” A confused-looking Naomi asked.

“I asked him to do a little celebration. And he just did that…” She explained, dabbing her fingers on the corner of her eyes since a little bit of tears had escaped. “Oh, God, Naomi, I’m really going to marry him.”

“Yes! You’re a lucky one, you!” Naomi wrapped her arms around her and gave her a tight side-hug.

She sat down as she felt her legs giving out, the joy was almost overwhelming. She looked down at her ring. Memories from that night he proposed to her flashed in her mind, and once again made the butterflies in her stomach fly.

The match continued and she watched on with a smile that she couldn’t seem to erase from her face. She couldn’t wait for the match to be over, so she could give Marcus the biggest hug, a kiss, and tell him how proud she was of him.

—

all love for our boyfriend mr marcus rashford mbe<3

My Masterlist🤍