#I nearly said ‘some of you belong in jail’ but then I decided not to choose violence today | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pluto-supremacy · 7 months

Note

YOUR VI JAIL FIC WAS SO GOOD AND THE HEADCANONS WERE SO SO ACCURATE. :'( IF POSSIBLE, CAN YOU MAKE A P2 TO HOW THEIR LIFE IS OUTSIDE OF PRISON WHEN THEY MAKE IT OUT? or an angst with caitlyn being blackmailed by the warden to only let one prisoner out? :3 said one being vi, and vi having to abandon reader?

Vi Fic: Bye Bye Bun

➼ Aaaah thank you so much! I'm so glad so many people liked the Stillwater headcanons^^ I was afraid my Vi was going to be soooo out of character. I decided to write some angst first >:) if this fic does well or I get another ask I'll also work on life after Stillwater, give you guys some fluff after this

➼ Continuation of Vi Headcanons: dating f!reader at Stillwater

➼ No beta we die like Claggor (I'm running out of people who die in the series-)

➼ Warnings: None! Bit of a longer fic for you guys today, enjoy!

GIF does not belong to me! All credits to the owner

The sound of knuckles meeting hard concrete echoed throughout the cell block, small grunts following close behind. "You know we don't get clean bandages for another two weeks Vi, your knuckles are going to get infected at this rate." you called out. Suddenly the pounding stopped and a small chuckle was heard. "Don't worry about me bun, just trying to blow off some steam," she said, pacing around her cell instead of beating up a wall. "You should really get some sleep. Long day tomorrow"

"No such thing as a short day here." you groaned. Carefully you laid down on the ground of the cell. Vi's was only a few doors down, close enough to talk just above a whisper but way too far away to see each other. Both of you always slept against the walls that faced each other. It was the closest thing to sleeping next to each other in this shithole. Aside from whenever you two napped during free time of course. Even then Vi stayed wide awake to ensure you were okay.

"Goodnight Vi, wake me up if anything happens, okay?" "I will Y/N, I promise"

That was nearly two hours ago. You were sound asleep by now, the cold, hard floor no longer keeping you up. It was something every prisoner in Stillwater had to get used to. Mattresses weren't provided. The few that did get a thin mat to sleep on at night only got one after a lot of medical visits and several notes stating they needed one for medical reasons. You and Vi weren't so lucky to have any notes. Still, there were worse things here. Like the food. That's why any food or snacks that were smuggled in were high value items. Currently you had a packet of chips hidden under a loose brick right where you slept. You scored them a few days ago and wanted to surprise Vi by sharing them tomorrow.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened, the clack of heels filling the halls. Caitlyn stopped in front of Vi's sell, her hood still up. "What the hell do you want?" Vi asked, glancing over at the taller woman. "Your help. You beat up an inmate, I needed to question him about a crime scene from yesterday. Why did you break his jaw?" "Because I wanted to." She responded with a small shrug, disinterested in whoever this enforcer was. "Why are you in here?" Caitlyn tried again, looking over the file in her hands. "For my sunny personality." Vi shot back immediately.

Caitlyn shook her head, sighing. "This was a waste of time." she closed the file and her journal, starting to walk off. Maybe she could find away around a broken jaw, pen and paper perhaps. "Couldn't have said it better myself. Give Silco a kiss for me on that winning eye of his." that was what caught the enforcer's attention. Turning around she walked back to Vi's cell, getting a bit closer to the bars. "Silco? The industrialist?" "Hardly what I'd call an industrialist." She scoffed, leaning against the bars. That's when the other woman held up something that caught her eye.

In Caitlyn's journal was a picture of a spray-painted monkey. Just like the ones Powder used to make. "Where did you get this?" Vi asked, desperation creeping into her voice. "My question first. The inmate worked for Silco?" "Everyone in here does. You of all people should know that. Now where did you find that?" "It was at the crime scene, this is evidence" Caitlyn responded. She had the upper hand here now. "If I'm to believe you about Silco, I'm going to need proof."

A way out. Vi could get both of you out of here. "I can provide you proof. Just, not from in here" she gestured to the bars around her. "And," she began to add on "I need another inmate. Inmate 381. I'm not leaving without her." Caitlyn seemed to consider this for a moment. Then she turn and left without a word. What that meant, Vi had no clue.

Caitlyn had ran off back to the warden, forging papers along the way for the release of two inmates. She needed Vi's help to track whoever this person was down, so if someone else had to come along, so be it. As she put the papers down on the warden's desk, he seemed to lazily look over them. "I have orders to release inmates 381 and 516." she spoke up. He hummed in thought before shaking his head. "I can only release one." "What? It says right there-" "I can read. But I'm only releasing one. Pick." "..inmate 516."

So when Caitlyn returned and opened Vi's cell, she immediately ran to your cell. Or at least tried to. The enforcer stopped her a few steps in. "The warden only let me release one of you. You understand that-" "No I don't! This wasn't part of the deal!" Vi went to grab the collar of Caitlyn's dress, the other wrapping her hands around Vi's wrists as she was pressed against the wall. "You will-" "If you try anything I will make sure you're put back behind bars and you never see that other inmate again." Cait rushed out. It wasn't what she wanted to resort to, threats, but it seemed to work.

Almost instantly Vi's grip loosened, slowly setting Caitlyn back down on the ground. Leaving you...

"Once we're done, you let her out. Immediately. No excuses, exceptions, or delays. And I get to say goodbye." Vi demanded. That was fair, anyone could agree to that. Thankfully Caitlyn began nodding, dusting her dress off. "Go ahead then. Afterwards we need to get going to the Undercity."

This was going to hurt.

Vi walked over to your cell, kneeling down at the bars. You were still all curled up, dead asleep. She gently knocked on the bars. "Bun..bun you gotta wake up." That was odd. Vi's voice sounded so close...as you opened up your eyes you saw your girlfriend just on the other side of the bars. There was no quicker way to wake up than seeing your lover free from her cell. "Vi! You escaped! How-" you were cut off by seeing Caitlyn standing behind Vi.

"Who is that?" "Y/N, I can explain." "Vi, who is that!" you were shouting now. You didn't even fully realize it. "She's the one that got me out-" "So now you're going to get me out?" you interrupted. Seeing the pain flash on Vi's face told you everything that you needed to know. "You're leaving me.." your voice was barely audible, but Vi caught every word. She could feel her heart shattering as she saw the tears form in your eyes. "It's only for a little bit. The warden wouldn't let us both out, once I'm done helping Caitlyn we're coming right back for you, I promise."

You wanted to believe her. Vi had never lied to you before, why would she start now? Maybe it was the fear of never seeing her again. Or maybe it had to do with the enforcer standing behind her. Caitlyn was beautiful, you had to admit, so what if...

"No, no this isn't right. Vi you can't leave me here!" you shouted, crawling up to the bars and reaching out to grab Vi's wrist. "Vi you can't leave me! Please don't leave me!" the tears finally began rolling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away. Vi's own eyes were starting to gloss over with tears. "I'm coming back for you, Y/N. I swear on my life I'm not leaving you. It'll be a few days tops." "What does she," you nodded your head towards Caitlyn "even need help with, huh? What are you going to do for her?"

That cut deep. Vi tried not to take it to heart as she stood up, pressing one last kiss to the back of your hand. "I'm coming back for you." she repeated, steeling herself to actually leave. To not fall to her knees and tell Caitlyn to find someone else. This was your guy's chance of freedom. Even if this hurt you now, it was better in the long run. Everything would be better when you two could be together outside of Stillwater. "Bye bye, bun. I'll be back for you" and with that she turned around and started walking away. Vi knew if she turned around to look at you one last time, she'd never leave.

That's when the shouting started.

"Vi! Vi turn around right now! You can't leave me here!" you were standing up now, having an iron grip on the bars. Almost trying to bend them out of the way so you could run to Vi. Unfortunately you weren't that strong and the bars weren't that weak. "Violet don't leave me!"

Vi quickened her pace, rushing towards the elevator. Your voice was starting to blend with Powder's the day they were separated. It was all too much. She was going to find Powder and come back for you. Everything would be okay, everything would be right. As the elevator doors closed, she heard one last thing. Yours and Powder's voice were nearly indistinguishable from one another as you yelled out:

"TRAITOR!"

#arcane #vi arcane #vi x fem reader #fem reader #vi x reader #vi x you #vi x y/n

147 notes · View notes

sgcairo · 1 year

Note

Heya! Wanted to ask a question, hope you don't mind! Oh, and also I wanted to gush about this idea.

In your universe, is Dottore from Sumeru or is he perhaps mixed in ancestry? Yesterday I came across this fantastic fan-comic of him as a kid, and the artist headcanoned him as just albino, with both of his parents being dark-skinned.

I've read the Mamatorre stuff and I woke up my dad from screaming with joy. I'm not one to praise representation much because most of the time it's butchered, but, the fact that Dottore being Sumerian is canon in the game is what makes him such a curious case to me.

Oh, and- Dottore speaking Arabic is nice to think about-

Now, this is a tricky ask, and I definitely sat on this for a while so I could give a good and accurate answer, sorry about that. But what I have come to the conclusion of is that the Dottore in my mind and the Dottore that Hoyoverse officially let out of gay baby jail are very different.

First and foremost, I do not agree with the fact that they took all the melanin from his skin, give it back you cowards- and they made him so... I don't even know how to describe it. They made him squishy, I was expecting pointy. His design is also very random, and I think this plays into this ask fairly well, as I believe very firmly that his clothes would take after a more Snezhnayan design, but have touches of Sumeru woven into them for emotional comfort, rather than the uh... The thing that we got. I can't even look at it, it haunts me. I'm definitely not vibing with the in-game design for very specific reasons.

Now, no matter how angry I may be as a writer and artist about his official design, one thing stands true in all my renditions of him: His mother is from Sumeru. Her parents are descended from the people of the desert, and while she may live tucked away in a western corner of Avidya forest, she belongs to the lands of Sumeru, and very much looks it. Her skin has a coppery color to it, her hair is bleached a bit from the sun, and her accent is quite a bit stronger than her son's, but she's been living in the rainforest since she was little, and doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

But, as much as I hate saying it, I actually can't say all that much about Dottore's father, but only because I kind of threw him in a corner and forgot about him for a while. He collected dust while I fawned over Dottore's eccentric mom, and I'm still working out the details of his backstory. What I can say is that he worked in mechanics, and met Dottore's mother while on a business trip to the Akademiya, which included him nearly fainting of fright after she popped out of a flower bed covered in dirt and muttering ominously to herself. But as for where he's from, I'm not putting down a definitive answer, but mostly because I'm still deciding in that aspect.

Not to worry about his physicality though, Dottore got everything from his mother (except for his height).

For some more juicy details, because I love digging into the meat of Dottore's backstory- Dottore's mother is named Hikmat, though she does insist that outsiders call her Magdalena. Why? It may have been due to her husband, and his quite frankly horrible demands, but that is a statement to be speculated over. However, Dottore just calls her ma', or "mother", if he's with Pantalone. It's rare that the segments use her name either, as Dottore's own affection has rubbed off on them quite a bit. But she has names for all of them, and nicknames (she calls them all "habibi" a lot, and they all love it) that she remembers distinctly for each.

As for Dottore's connections to Sumeru, he does not like the cold. At all. He's not used to it, and certainly won't admit to being miserable with little to no sunlight from the eternal winter in Snezhnaya. When he does visit his homeland, he's rejuvenated to the point that Pantalone has remarked several times that he's like a whole different person. The same can't be said for his mother, she's never seen snow before and loves it. It helps that the Tsaritsa is there to enable her curiosity in that regard, and the first time she came to Snezhnaya, she spent hours running around outside Zapolyarny, and had to be lured back inside before she froze to death when night fell.

Dottore can also definitely speak some Arabic, or the Teyvat equivalent of it. His Snezhnayan is still a little rough, even after centuries of practice, and he falls into the habit of cursing and muttering to himself in his mother tongue when he's extremely focused or stressed. He knows many languages, and has reason to use them, but he'll always fall back to his roots, as many a poor Fatui soul has learned, after being cursed out in a language they may or may not even know.

As such, the point stands: if you ever ask Dottore where he's from, he'll 100% say he's from Sumeru, without a doubt. No matter where his father is from, he loves his mother and what she has given him too much to let that part of him go.

I'm sorry this wasn't a hard stop answer, but I hope this answered your question at least a little! I'll be sure to reblog this when I come to a final conclusion, but I'll have to see where my brain takes me on this one.

#il dottore #mamatorre #il dottore's clones #genshin impact oc #genshin impact headcanons #fatui headcanons #genshin impact #fatui harbingers

20 notes · View notes

techni-kolor · 1 year

Text

Since everything has been ChaosTM lately I finally decided to share a little snippet from my Domestic DoA universe! ^-^

Find the details about this AU here!

—————

"Nikolai, you've been in the bathroom for two hours. You'd better have drowned in there!"

Sigma pounded a fist against the door, rattling the hinges and letting their frustration shake the rickety frame like the worst alarm clock known to man.

"Nikolai, I swear!" They yelled.

"Just a few more minutes, Sig!"

"Yes, of course. A few more minutes, he says." Sigma repeated flatly to themself. "Don't use all the hot water this time!"

They leaned up against the hallway wall. Frustration was an almost constant companion; far too many eccentric people being crammed into a rather tiny apartment was not conducive to relaxation. Neither was the fact that Nikolai seemed intent on nearly drowning himself at every given opportunity with the longest showers since the invention of indoor plumbing.

"Kolya, I swear–"

The door slammed open, Nikolai's damp frame filling it completely as he posed in the steamy silhouette that drifted out of the bathroom. At least he was clothed, this time. His black jeans and signature checkered sweatshirt were at odds with the humid air, but perfectly catered to the crisp autumn outside and were worn as the manufacturer had intended. A rare occurrence.

He blinked haphazardly. One eye cut vertically with a thick, silvery scar that traced from his brow to his cheekbone and the other hazy as well with his permanently obscured vision.

"Good morning, Sigma! How are you on this fine day?"

"I'd be better if I had been able to shower when I planned. Forty-five minutes ago."

"Time certainly is a cruel mistress!" Nikolai said cheerfully, tossing back his damp braid over one shoulder. "I suppose she forsake me while I was caught up bathing."

"Uh-huh."

"Alas, I am merely a pawn in this endless chessboard of life. I can not be held responsible for the placement I have been assigned or my efforts to break free of this jailing we call a schedule. Can't you see the folly of it all, Sigma! I may be unable to visualize this world, yet I am–"

"Are you done?" Sigma interrupted. "With the shower, not the monologue."

Nikolai's infamous rambles were well known to last for hours when unchecked.

"Yeah, I'm all good there." He chirped, snagging the dirty towel off the rack and skipping across the cheap tile floor towards the kitchen. "Enjoy!"

"Hard to do with no hot water or time to get ready, but sure." Sigma muttered to themself, stepping into the bathroom.

Only to nearly slide to their doom as their shaky feet caught on a stray piece of clothing.

"Next time don't leave your dirty socks on the floor!"

"Those aren't mine!"

Sigma slowly began to count to ten in their head.

"They belong to Fedya! He showered last night, pretty sure. Ask him!"

There was absolutely zero chance that Sigma was going to consult Fyodor on the location of his clothing again. The last time had been an exercise in confusion, futility, and a stark reminder of why he and Nikolai were so close despite their contrasting personalities.

Maybe the hot water would wash off some of the frustration. Or at least the lint from Fyodor's dirty socks and Nikolai's half dried puddles of leftover soap that somehow always found their way outside of the shower curtain.

Sigma sighed.

Another day in paradise.

#a little fluff break from ... EverythingTM #I adore the angst and theory storm but I was looking for an excuse to post this sjsks

8 notes · View notes

cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

The Shield

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 5595

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, John Walker, Emotions, Character Death, Mentions of Blood, I know people had a hard time with that last scene so please take caution because it is in this part! GIF at end is the ending scene, so be careful when you get towards the bottom! I feel like I’m forgetting some, so just know this one’s a bit more than the others.

A/N: Here it is, folks! The Part we’ve all been waiting for! It’s the longest one I’ve written so far but so much happened and I couldn’t find a better spot to end it than where the episode ended. Thank you all for being patient with me today. I know I didn’t get this out as quickly as I would’ve the past few weeks, but you guys are so awesome! Seriously! I love that you understand I do have a life and work comes first! Thank you, thank you!

This Part is a doozy, guys, and…I’m sorry? But not really. I’m SUPER excited to see where this is gonna go, especially considering Episode 5 is supposed to be the real tear jerker. I can’t believe there’s only two more episodes! I’ve grown so attached to these characters just in the past month! I’m so glad I’m able to share some of my thoughts and feelings with you guys, too! You’re honestly the best!

I’ll be doing more One Shots this week, so look for those on the Masterlist. I’m still taking requests for them, so if there’s anything you want explored about the reader and her relationships that you don’t think will be explored in this Series, just ask and I’ll try to add it to the One Shot list.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

(I couldn’t decide on which GIF to use because there are so many good ones! Thank you Tumblr Creators!)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“Doll…hey. Doll. C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta get moving.”

You cracked your eyes open begrudgingly, squinting up to see Bucky’s amused grin, head tilted and eyes soft. “Huh?”

He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, confusion lifting an eyebrow. “The funeral. Zemo said we’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make it in time.”

“Wait, but…huh?”

Sniggering again at your reaction, he held up your phone. “You passed out in the middle of a chapter, sleepyhead.” He teased lightly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you to sit upright. “It’s almost been an hour.”

You huffed tiredly, stretching and placing your feet on the floor, taking back the phone he held out to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You haven’t been sleeping well.” He stated, like it should’ve been obvious. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“Better than earlier. It’s just sore. That’s all.”

He studied your features for any hint of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. But tell me if it starts bothering you.”

You placed your hand in his, marveling for a split second at how big his hands were compared to yours - something you noticed every time but still it never ceased to astound you. He tugged you up, and you looked up to meet his worried eyes, remembering his question.

“I will, Buck. Promise.”

He nodded, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, cuddle bug. We don’t wanna miss this.”

A groan passed your lips, but you nodded and followed Bucky out into the main room, where Sam chuckled at you from his spot at the table. “Sleeping beauty has finally awoken.”

You flipped Sam off groggily. “Are we going or not?”

“Do you wanna wake up s’more first?”

“No.” You answered the one armed brunette. “I’ll just splash some water on my face or something. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. Where’s-”

“Looking for me?”

Zemo strolled out, now dressed in that coat of his, that smug smirk on his lips. You scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.”

Sam stood up, standing subconsciously between you and Zemo. “Let’s head out.”

You nodded in agreement, shooting the Baron one more glare, before following him out the door and into the city, Bucky right besides you, shoulders brushing as if you weren’t ignoring him just hours prior.

The walk was mostly silent, a few jests between Bucky and Sam plus a couple comments from Zemo here and there. You talked about strategy, with Sam bringing up the fact that he wanted to try convincing Karli to step down. Zemo didn’t look pleased with the arrangement, but both you and Bucky relented, agreeing to let Sam at least try.

It wasn’t until you were close to your destination according to Zemo that anything exciting happened.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!”

Hell. No.

The moment the voice registered in your brain, your jaw tightened, your teeth starting to grind together as you held back the very not nice things you wanted to say.

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called out, tucking you into his side protectively, and a little possessively you noted, as Walker and Hoskins came down the steps, the two groups nearing each other.

You were relieved when the subject of Zemo escaping jail went by relatively quickly, Walker latching onto the fact that you were going to talk to Karli instead of focusing on the escaped fugitive in front of him.

You very nearly punched him when he ran in front of you after Sam told him the plan, making the four of you stop in your tracks, but Bucky’s arm tightened around your shoulders, holding you in place next to him.

“You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker questioned Bucky in disbelief, self righteous judgement practically dripping from your tone. “You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super soldier alone?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. “He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”

“And you?” Walker narrowed his eyes towards you. “I expected more from you; the last original Avenger.”

You snorted, shaking your head. He obviously didn’t know how chaotic the Avengers were. What Sam was proposing? You’d seen it a million times with Steve alone. Not considering Nat, Clint, Thor, even Bruce and Tony. All of them willing to try to negotiate before running in, bullets raining and hell rising. “First, I’m not the last original. I’m technically not even an original. Second, I trust Sam with my life and I’m standing by his decision. He’s my brother. As a soldier, I would’ve thought you understood that.”

Before he could respond, Sam stepped around Bucky. You saw the reluctance in Walker’s eyes as he admitted a temporary defeat once Hoskins agreed with Sam. The fact that he was so unwilling to try to save more lives - including Karli’s - made the truth that he wasn’t, and would never, be your Captain harden deeper into your heart.

Ignoring Walker’s confusion as you followed the little girl Zemo befriended - which was weird, you’d admit, but it was getting you closer to Karli - Bucky’s arm slipped from your shoulders, hand sliding across your back and skimming down your arm to grip your hand. Even through your jacket, you felt goosebumps erupt along his fingers’ trail.

You finally came to your destination and you let out a small breath. If everything went smoothly, this mission could finally be over and you could go home and take a bath, get take out, get out a bottle of wine, watch TV, and just relax.

What a dream.

“Hey.” You stopped Sam before he could go through the entrance of where the girl said Karli was, holding his forearm. “You want me to come with you?”

He shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if I go alone.”

You nodded, letting go without any hesitance. “Okay. Be careful.”

“Always.” And despite all you’ve been through, no matter how many times he’s followed Steve’s lead in doing something stupid, you knew he meant it. You nodded again, before he disappeared around the corner.

You leaned back against the wall, Bucky once again wrapping an arm around your shoulder now that you weren’t walking - he liked having mobility on the move, hence the reason he held your hand instead - leaning besides you and pulling you against his chest.

Ten minutes. You tried looking at Bucky’s watch, which was on the wrist of the arm around you. He noticed and turned his wrist slightly, bending his elbow more, which brought you even closer to him, showing you the time.

Giving a small sigh, you nodded slightly and dropped your head back against his bicep, your hands shoving in your pockets, one of your feet coming up to rest against the wall. Bucky shifted to your other side so he could stand in front of the doors to where Karli and Sam were, pulling you against his back, arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly.

It was a long ten minutes. You kept eyeing Walker, and you couldn’t help the anger burning through you as he held the shield in his hands. That damn shield. It wasn’t his. It would never be his. And he would never understand it. The fact that the shield didn’t make Captain America. The shield isn’t what made Steve a good man. Not even the Serum did. He already was one. Steve made the shield what it was, not the other way around.

But then you remembered a conversation you had, years ago, and your eyes flitted up to Bucky’s hardened face, the brunette staring intensely at the ground.

You didn’t get it. You were confused. You knew how important Barnes - Bucky - was to Steve. But apparently you didn’t understand it quite yet.

You watched from the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall, as Bucky went under once more.

Steve stood there for a moment longer, before turning and walking towards you. “Why’d you do it?”

He raised an eyebrow at you while you turned to walk with him down the hall. “Do what?”

“Give up the shield. And don’t say it doesn’t belong to you. It does. Howard gave it to you. You’re the reason it’s…a symbol.”

He hummed. “And what exactly is it a symbol for, honey?”

You scoffed. “Uh, freedom? Justice? Resilience? The defense of the whole life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness thing?”

He stopped, facing you with a strange expression on his face, thoughtful. “I dropped it because I can’t be that anymore. Not right now. People don’t have the same beliefs they used to have. How can I stand up for freedom and let the Sokovia Accords track every person they deem a threat, just like HYDRA tried doing? How can I be a symbol for justice and let Bucky take the fall for something that he wasn’t in control of? I can’t. And until the world is ready to change…I can’t be Captain America.”

And suddenly, it seemed to click. Steve gave up the shield for Bucky because the world wasn’t ready to admit it was wrong. Just like Sam gave up the shield for himself and his family because the world wasn’t ready for the truth that would come with him becoming Captain America.

God…when did a metal circle become so complicated?

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head’a yours?” His whisper in your ear startled you out of your thoughts, his nose brushing against your temple tenderly as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You looked up at him and shook your head. Of all the things Steve gave up, he never gave up Bucky. And it used to confuse you, but you understood then. His blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and slight concern, his fingers tracing patterns along your collarbone with a barely-there touch that was so light it didn’t seem to exist. You finally understood. Not just Steve’s decision, but Sam’s too. And maybe you didn’t understand it fully, and that was okay, because you weren’t them, so you never would, but you understood a little bit.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, keeping your voice down so the others couldn’t hear, the conversation being a private one, “I’m just waiting for this to be over.”

He hummed, nodding in agreement, setting his chin on your head. “Me too.”

Walker started pacing the room about half way through, getting too antsy for your liking. “Shhh.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, feeling you tense as Walker started talking. “It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky stated confidently, straightening slightly from his leaning position, arms falling from your form. The two of you exchanged glances as Walker checked the clock over on the far wall, blocked from your view.

“I’m going in.” Walker strode across the room, heading for the entrance, no doubt willing to steam roll anything - anyone - in his way.

Bucky stopped him with a hand on his chest. You glanced back and forth between the two as Walker spoke, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Buck…we promised him ten minutes.” You reminded him, seeing his resolve crumble a bit. You could guess he was thinking of the nightmares. The people he couldn’t save. The blood he already considered on his hands.

Walker used his moment of hesitation, shoving past him roughly. “I’m not waiting.”

“John!”

“Walker!”

You followed after him, you and Bucky arguing with him and Hoskins about giving Sam more time, but it was too late.

“Karli Morgenthau! You’re under arrest!”

“Fuck.” You hissed out when you saw Sam’s panicked expression, looking at you confused. Walker was flown across the room when Karli punched him, Bucky shoving Hoskins out of the way to run after her.

“Y/N-”

You threw your hands up. “I tried, Sam! C’mon!”

You and Sam ran over to some stairs, turning corners and trying to remember what the building looked like from outside to cut her off, but you only ran into Bucky again.

“I wish we had the layout or something.” You grumbled. “We were that close-”

“We’re not done yet, doll.” Nodding, you followed the boys out, Bucky pausing every so often to try to hear anything. “I’ve got gunshots.” At that, the three of you took off towards the sound, Bucky leading the way.

Just around the corner from where Bucky heard the gunshots, you thought you saw a couple people slip around another bend. Noticing you had stopped, Bucky backtracked. ��You okay?’

“Yeah.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the pursuit, you turned to him and nodded towards the doorway Sam already went through. He gave you a look, but nodded and the two of you jogged into the room.

You sighed heavily, seeing Zemo knocked out on the floor, Walker standing over him and broken vials that were previously full of, what you assumed was, the Serum. Hoskins ran in right after you, meaning no one but Walker and Zemo knew what happened. Meaning you would probably never get the full, true story.

What fun it is to work with manipulators and liars.

********************

“I don’t like him.” Bucky grumbled, the two of you walking up to the place you were staying in, Bucky holding the door open for you.

“I know you don’t, Buck. I don’t either.” You had asked Bucky to go with you to get some fresh air once you got back, Zemo having woken up a few minutes after and Walker and Hoskins had to make a call or something official like the good soldiers they were. “He’s hiding something.”

“You think?” Bucky scoffed, giving you a look.

You rolled your eyes. “I mean…I don’t know. When we found him and Zemo…my gut twisted.”

He nodded in understanding, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah. Mine did too.”

You stopped him before you could walk through the door to the main room. “Do me a favor?” He nodded again with a little hum. Catching his chin between your fingers, your free hand moved to smooth out the creases between his brow. “Stop brooding so much. It makes me worried.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, features softening slightly. “Are you really gonna leave in the morning? I know you’ve had a lot of people telling you to take a break, and it’s selfish for me to ask you to stay, but…I dunno if I can finish this without you.”

“I-” You sighed, ducking your head as you thought of a response, before looking up in his wide eyes, begging for you to stick around longer. “Let’s just finish the day and see what happens next. Okay?”

He bit his lip, nodding slightly. You gave him a smile, before tugging on his hand. “I need a drink.”

He chuckled at that. “That I can fix, doll.” He, again, opened the door for you, and the two of you walked in.

“What a gentleman. Straight outta the 40’s.” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

He took off his jacket, heading to the kitchen, while you sat on the opposite side of the island. “Somethin’s not right about Walker.”

Sam gave you two an amused look. “You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one.” He opened the lid of the bottle he grabbed, starting to pour two glasses of whiskey for the both of you. “Because I am crazy.”

You rolled your eyes as Sam responded, “can’t argue with that.”

“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

Giving Bucky a disapproving look over the rim of your glass, you sipped your drink, narrowing your eyes when he ignored you. “I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

Your glass slammed down on the counter. Why did he have to bring this up right now? Seriously? You were just having a nice conversation about places you wanted to visit while taking a walk outside. Why was he suddenly snapping?

Before you could scold him, the doors burst open, making your head whip over as Walker stormed in, “ordering” you to hand over Zemo.

You stayed sitting, leaning on the counter and facing the opposite wall as Sam told him off, giving an amused snicker as you sipped your drink. Bucky sat besides you, facing Walker, and you recognized from the angle he was positioning himself that he was blocking you from Walker’s view, whether intentional or not.

You raised an eyebrow, turning in interest when Walker put down the shield, knowing Sam wasn’t about to fight the man. What an ego the blonde had.

Before anything could happen, however, a spear pierced through the air, lodging in the pillar next to Walker’s head.

Your frustration with Bucky’s comment flew out of your head as Ayo and a few other Dora Milaje walked in. Bucky sat up straighter and you stood up, leaning ever so slightly against his arm.

You nearly facepalmed, a sound of complete disbelief leaving you as Walker introduced himself. Sam looked over at you two, an entertained, slightly incredulous smile on his face.

Sam tried warning him. He really did. But Walker, you’ve come to find, was an arrogant, egotistical narcissist who only wanted to win and would do whatever it takes to do so. Even when there wasn’t really a winner. At least, not in that situation. It seemed that Walker liked ignoring the gray area in the world, which wasn’t good. Not in the least.

Which is why you couldn’t really feel sorry for the man. You saw it coming as soon as he told them they didn’t have jurisdiction. And the moment he touched Ayo?

You put your chin on Bucky’s shoulder - who had stood up from his spot - watching the Dora Milaje kick Walker’s ass, wincing and cringing mockingly at the right moments, making Bucky smirk at you.

“We should do something.” Sam said, although he didn’t look thrilled about the prospect.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Looking strong, John!”

You gave a slight snort, not wanting to encourage anything, but unable to hold in your amusement. Bucky winked at you, clinking his cup of whiskey with your own, before taking a gulp.

“Bucky.”

You huffed and stepped back at Sam’s tone. “C’mon, Buck.”

“Fine.” Bucky grunted. “But ‘M not happy about it.”

Soon, the three of you, plus Walker and Hoskins, were all occupied with a member of the Dora Milaje. You knew you couldn’t take them; they were on a higher level that Natasha, and you could barely beat her. But you weren’t necessarily trying to win.

It was a strange fight, knowing that no one - except Walker, probably - actually wanted to hurt anyone. Of course, that didn’t stop one of them from exploiting your injured shoulder that she spotted rather quickly. The hits were quick and precise, the tip of her spear cutting along the graze, hitting the spot just perfect enough to reopen it. The stitches that had been placed only a couple days ago ripped, making you wince and clutch your now bleeding shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You groaned. “You were always good with those things.”

She gave you an almost apologetic look, before she looked over to Ayo, who stepped through the room towards the bathroom where Zemo had locked himself in during the chaos.

When you caught sight of the shoulder thing she did to Bucky, his metallic arm now laying on the floor, his eyes wide and his stance stunned, your jaw nearly dropped. You guessed it made sense that they had a way to do that, but, still. None of you were expecting it.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked once they started leaving, Bucky picking up his arm and connecting it to his shoulder.

“No.” The arm whirred as he swung it, getting it back to normal.

You couldn’t help the little giggle that left you, making Bucky raise an eyebrow at you. You tried holding in more laughs, but they just kept coming. “She-she...she disarmed you!”

Bucky rolled his eyes as you chortled, holding your stomach and bending over. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Oh come on!” You straightened and wiped your eyes. “That was good! Wasn’t it, Sammy?”

Sammy chuckled and nodded. “I’ll admit, it was pretty good. This, however, is not.”

Your laughter died as Sam made his way over to the bathroom, the light air that came with your cackles dissipating as quickly as it came.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”

You stared at the drain that was uncovered - large enough for Zemo to slip inside and escape. He did it. The son of a bitch finally did it. It took him long enough. You would’ve betted against him days ago.

“I can.” Bucky turned and grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

*********************

“I thought you told them.”

Bucky looked up from wrapping your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“I thought you told them. The Dora Milaje. Wakanda. T’Challa. I thought you told them about Zemo.”

He leaned back with a sigh. “It was kinda a last minute decision. You know that. You were there.”

You nodded. “I do. But I also know what they’ve done for you. Shuri and Ayo. I was there for that, too. And you know what he did to them. To their country. Their king.”

“I know, I know. I almost died several times because of it.”

Your eyebrows pinched in confusion. “So why-”

“I thought it’d be quick. I thought, maybe, I could do it without them finding out and then we could get to Karli and they wouldn’t be disappointed. Win win.”

Your cheek caught between your teeth as you thought. “You could’ve just asked-”

He shook his head. “They would’ve said no. You know that.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. I know that. But…but giving them a warning would’ve been better than this.” He hung his head, closing his eyes. “Bucky. Hey,” hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head back up to look at you. “I know it’s been hard for you. Everything has. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let you come along. You should be healing, and it’s my fault you’re not.” He opened his mouth, face scrunching up in disagreement, but you shook your head. “It’s true. I just…I didn’t know it would come this far.” You gnawed on your bottom lip studying those captivating eyes, before sighing. “Which is why I’m not leaving.”

He perked up, those pretty eyes going wide, jaw slackening. “You-you’re not?!”

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Sam. I promised to help, and I brought you into it. So I’m gonna stay.

“Are you, uh…are you sure? You don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, doll. I know I kinda pushed you earlier, but-”

“I’m sure Buck.” You nodded firmly. “Just…do something for me?”

“I dunno if I can promise not brooding, sweetheart.”

You giggled at his words. “Not that. Just…stop giving Sam a hard time. About the shield. Please.”

His soft features hardened and he scowled. “If he didn’t give it up-”

“He thought it was going to the museum. I told you about that, remember? I told you we’d go when I got back.”

Giving a slight nod, he sighed. “We never did.”

“We will. But, I’m serious, Buck. Please. It’s not his fault. He did exactly what Steve did.” At Bucky’s confused look, you pursed your lips, looking down at his hands, starting to play with his fingers. “Remember how I was thinking during those ten minutes we had?” He nodded. “I was thinking about how Steve gave the shield back to Tony. After saving you. In Siberia. You remember that?” Another nod was given, so you continued. “It was for you, James. Because you made him realize that he didn’t want to be the face of a country that preached one thing, but did another. And that’s what Sam did. He did it for his family. For himself. Because no one wants to fight for a country that goes against your personal beliefs, no matter what they say.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, his brow creasing as he tried processing what you were telling him.

“That’s okay. Not everyone will. Really only they can understand their own reasoning. But you have to try to understand that he did what he thought was best for himself. For Steve. For the shield. And I know - dammit do I know - that it’s the last thing left of him. But it is just metal. Isn’t it? Steve’s the reason it is what it is. No one else. And no one is going to change that.”

Bucky took a breath, glossy, worried eyes meeting yours. “Walker’s going to ruin it. I know he is. I can feel it. Everything Steve worked for. I don’t care about Captain America. I care about the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to make a difference, no matter how little he was. I trusted him. I followed him through bullets and blood, with only that shield between us and them. He was home on a battlefield in Italy across the ocean from New York. And that shield was the welcome mat. It doesn’t matter what it says, what it looks like…but it protected my home when I couldn’t. But now? I feel like it’s tearing my home down. Pulling out the bricks. And it hurts. It was never about the shield, Y/N. It was always about the man it protected when I couldn’t be there for him. And now?”

Gathering him in your arms as he trailed off, you gave a couple little sniffles, pressing your face in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. “I’ll be your welcome mat, Buckaroo.” You offered.

He shook his head, pulling away to hold your face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. You’re not the welcome mat. You’re the new bricks replacing the old. You’re…you’re my home, now, doll.”

You swallowed thickly, unable to handle the rush of emotions that just poured through you, the sudden change in topic making you feel more vulnerable than you’d like. You leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling him go lax in your arms. “And you’re mine.” You murmured softly, before getting up and heading out for the room, unable to stay any longer. You still had a mission to do. One that became even more desperate with Zemo loose, Walker unhinged, and Karli being so close.

******************

There was a silent agreement to not bring up your conversation. Not yet, at least. Sam had eyed you both when you came out of the room, saying you were ready to get moving, but he didn’t say anything either.

None of you really knew where you were going, only what you had to do. Find Zemo and get to Karli before Walker could. Both of which were a lot easier said than done.

Until Sam got a call from Sarah, who told him Karli contacted her personally and threatened her and her sons. She left a contact number for Sam, evidently wanting to meet. His phone dinged not a minute after he texted the number.

“She said come alone.”

“Well that’s not happening.” You opposed, crossing your arms.

Bucky nodded with your sentence. “We’re coming with you.”

Sam didn’t say anything against it, the three of you exchanging glances, before heading out to the location, changing into your tactical suits along the way.

Karli didn’t seem to mind you and Bucky tagging along, and you understood why the moment she mentioned not killing Sam because he wasn’t hiding behind a shield. It was a distraction. They were going after Walker.

It was confirmed only moments later when Sharon contacted Sam. “Looks like he found them, or maybe they found him.”

As soon as Sam announced that it was Walker, you jumped into action, Sam disabling Karli for just the right amount of time for you to get a head start. “I’ll send you the location. Go.” He told Bucky, who nodded and took off in his super soldier sprint. “You hitching a ride?”

You rolled your eyes at his slight tease. “I hate this so much.” You grumbled, catching his hand as he took off in the air with his bird costume. He held onto you tightly, like the millions of times you’d done this before, although it didn’t make you any less dizzy, traveling that fast, that high, with only his hold keeping you from dropping. “You’re lucky I trust you so much!”

He gave a small chuckle at your shout over the wind. “We’re landing! Brace yourself!” You followed his order, just in time for him to break through the glass ceiling of the building Walker was in. The both of you landed on a platform on the staircase just as a Flag Smasher was thrown through double glass doors, down the stairs, and into a power box. Your eyes went wide as Walker strolled down the steps, oozing a confidence that made you nervous. The moment Walker stopped the Flag Smasher - the Super Soldier - from hitting him with the pipe, you knew even before he twisted it like a pretzel.

“Sam.” You breathed out. You couldn’t even do anything, only watching as the Flag Smasher got up from being thrown again, and running down a hall.

“What’d you do?”

“They got Lemar.” Was the only reply he gave, brushing past you and Sam. You gave Sam a look, but he just jerked his head down the hall, in the direction the Flag Smasher went and the way Walker started heading. You nodded, willing to drop it for now to save someone’s life, but you were so bringing it up once this was done.

Jogging into the room, you should’ve expected the ambush in the room, but, to be honest, they didn’t take as much advantage as they could’ve, so it wasn’t too difficult of a fight. You had trained with Steve millions of times before, so you knew how to go against a Super Soldier. Granted, your Cap wasn’t trying to kill you while training, but it was better than nothing.

You protected your shoulder, knowing that was your weak point, while trying to disguise it so whoever you were fighting wouldn’t realize your Achilles’ Heel. Something you often found while dealing with Steve, and even Bucky, was that Super Soldiers, as quick as they were, tended to favor the super strength side of their enhancements. This made it easier for you to dodge the attacks, knowing most of your blows wouldn’t do much.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay on the defensive for long, you decided to try to get an advantage over them. Disarming them and taking their knife was easy enough. A small advantage, yeah, but now you had a weapon, and you could work with that.

You weren’t exactly sure when Bucky joined the fight, but he did, immediately coming over to you when you body kicked your opponent, helping you up. “That was a Steve move.” Your eyes caught sight of the Flag Smasher behind him and you shoved his shoulder down, throwing your knife, making it land solidly in the man’s shoulder. Bucky looked up at you from his crouch, impressed. “And that was a me move.”

You shrugged. “I’m a visual learner.”

You, Sam, and Bucky were about to go for another round with the guys when a sickening crack sounded behind you, and you whipped around.

Hoskins was against a split pillar, a crimson streak running down his forehead, head lolling to the side, lips red and cracked. The fight stopped as Walker rushed over to his friend, but you knew there was no way he survived. A punch from a Super Soldier? That hard?

Eyeing the Flag Smashers, you turned to Sam and Bucky when they started dispersing, Karli running out as well. They nodded towards you and the three of you took off after her, not wanting to let her get away again and, for you, at least, wanting to give Walker some time.

You weren’t expecting his grief to turn into such raw hatred.

Running up to the city square, you didn’t actually see it happen. Just the aftermath. Which was good, considering you nearly threw up just seeing that.

You heard the change in Bucky’s breathing, barely recognizing the way he stepped in front of you, only realizing you stepped closer when you felt his sleeve against your palms, fingers tightly wrapped around his forearm. A choked sound came from somewhere, but you didn’t know it was you, even as Bucky reached his arm around to hold your waist, keeping you behind his shoulder.

Tears leaked down your face silently, eyes unable to look away as Walker straightened, sliding the shield on his arm, too nonchalantly for someone who just murdered another in front of a crowd full of people, cameras pointed towards him.

The shield. That piece of metal you had been wondering so deeply about the past couple of weeks. The link to the first person you’d ever loved. Ruined. Tarnished. Stained.

You could barely breathe, your throat clenching so tightly it was a wonder you were able to get anything out at all.

“James…”

2K notes · View notes

masterofmunson · 3 years

Text

look after you (1)

TFATWS Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam asks you to join him and Bucky on a mission in Madripoor. When you get injured, Bucky feels the need to remind you more than once that he’s supposed to look after you now that Steve’s gone.

Warnings: tfatws spoilers, language, violence, blood, grief, angst, major pining

Word Count: 6k+

Author’s Note: Here she is!! I’m really excited to see what you guys think! This is my first Bucky fic in AGES! I decided to make this into a mini series since this fic is so long haha. Please let me know what you think. Comments, reblogs, and asks are highly encouraged and appreciated! Enjoy!

You hadn’t seen Sam or Bucky in several weeks. You were still adjusting to life post-blip. It had been a long five years for you and just seconds for them. You were no longer the bright-eyed and bushy tailed recruit. You’d grown into your position amongst the established and experienced Avengers. Now, it meant nothing.

Tony’s gone. Steve’s dead, Natasha too. The Avengers had officially disbanded. You felt lost and confused, still blinded by your grief over losing them. You had nowhere to go, so you just floated from place to place as needed.

You were laying low and a shell of the person you once were. You had no one to look towards anymore. Bucky went his separate ways and got some sort of footing in New York City with the pardon he was given by the government since his return to the states. You checked in every now and then with him, but you didn’t want to slow down his progress so you distanced yourself from him.

You know he feels some sort of responsibility towards you. Steve did too, and you suppose now that he’s gone, Bucky feels the need to take his place. It doesn’t matter that you’re no longer the naive 23 year old he met in Berlin all those years ago. It doesn’t matter that there was something lingering between the two of you before he turned to ash. You’re a grown woman now and war and politics has hardened your soul.

He needs to move on from you. The version he has of you in his head is gone, dead. He wants a fresh start, and you can’t give it to him.

Sam checks in with you once in a while. He asks you how you’re doing and you respond the same each time. “Same shit, different day,” you laughed lightly.

He knows better than to ask you to join him on his missions with the military. You’re not in the right headspace to return to the field, least of all if it meant that you were representing the US government wherever the fight was.

Now that John Walker has the shield and has been branded the new Captain America, it gives you all the more reason to stay away. If he had so much as just breathed in your direction, you’d kill him and rip the shield from his grasp and return it to Sam.

You ignored all emails and phone calls that had to do with John Walker. He wanted your blessing on live television, as if that meant anything. Yes, you were close with Steve, but you’re not an original Avenger. You just caught his eye during training one day and he took you under his wing. John Walker just wanted to create a bridge between the two of you since Sam and Bucky were obviously out of the question.

You were the first person Sam called when he told you he was giving up the shield. You didn’t ask why. You knew he had his reasons and you respected him to accept that whatever the reasons were, they were good enough.

So, when Sam called in the middle of the night, you picked up the phone without a second thought. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sit up and fumble for the light on the nightstand beside you.

“Sam? You do realize it’s three in the morning, right?” you asked, yawning into your phone.

Sam curses in your ear and apologizes quietly. “Sorry. You would think with all this traveling, I’d remember time zones are a thing,” he laughed softly.

“What is it, Sam?”

“We’re in a bit of a tight spot. We could use your help.”

Your brows pinch together. “Who’s we, Sam?”

“Me and Barnes.”

Your heart jumps inside your throat. How the hell did Sam manage to rope Bucky into whatever he’s doing? The last you heard, Bucky wasn’t allowed to go on government missions until his therapist thought he made enough progress to do so. You know he’s nowhere near the progress he wants to be, so how is he with Sam?

“Jesus, Sam. You know he’s not in the right headspace to go on missions!” There’s a heavy pause between the two of you before you relent. “Where am I meeting you?”

“Latvia. I’ll fill you in when you get here.”

You hang up quickly and hurry out of bed. After so many years of getting up at odd hours for emergency missions and the like, you’re not surprised that Sam asked you to meet him in the middle of the night. You grab your duffle bag and stuff all your belongings back inside. You travel lightly, and now it definitely seemed to work out in your favor.

You’ve spent the last couple of weeks in a small town just outside of Helena, Montana. It’s nice and quiet and you’ve really taken the time to reflect on your life since things started going back to normal post-blip. The locals are nice and hospitable, and no one asks you about Steve, Tony, or what you thought of John Walker. You hope it had something to do with the fact that they didn’t know who you were. You certainly hoped that was the case. You’ve kept your head down and tried your best to blend in.

You go hiking quite frequently and take drives through the mountains. It’s nice and relaxing, a far cry from what you’re used to. You’ll definitely miss it, and you have second thoughts about meeting up with Sam, but you push them away. Steve abandoned you both, and you wouldn’t do that to him.

It takes you several hours to get to the closest international airport and by the time you arrive, the sun begins to rise in the distance. You hurry through the airport security and send Sam a quick update that you’re about to board your flight before you settle in your seat and fall back asleep.

....

You sleep through the entire flight. You blame it on your ability to sleep anywhere due to the number of missions you have under your belt. You’re wide awake when the plane lands and you’re quick to pull out your phone and send a message to Sam that you’ve made it safe and sound to Latvia.

Your legs are stiff and sore when you stand up for the first time when it’s time to leave. You pull your duffle bag from the overhead compartment and slowly make your way to the front. It takes you nearly an hour to get through customs and now you’re just anxiously waiting to see Sam.

When you see him waiting for you at the baggage claim area, you grin as your eyes meet. You hurry over to him and drop your duffle bag to the floor as he pulls you in for a hug. It’s warm and tight and it’s exactly what you need. Sam pulls away first and reaches for your bag, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you walk out of the airport to his car.

You stop walking when you notice two figures near a very fancy yellow car as you and Sam near them. Sam keeps walking and you take slow, tentative steps. You know one of the figures has to be Bucky, but Sam never mentioned a third person.

“Sam, I thought you said that it was just you and Bucky,” you said cautiously.

Sam stops in his tracks and lets out a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. It makes your heart race and you swallow the lump in your throat as they begin to come into focus as they near the two of you. “Y/n, before you get angry, I just need you to know that this wasn’t my idea. Believe me when I tell you that he is the last person we would ask for help,” Sam replied as his eyes went from you to the two people approaching.

“Who is he?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“Ah! Y/n, good to know that your flight went rather smoothly. It is good to see you again.”

No. There’s no way. You must be dreaming. Hemlut Zemo is not standing right in front of you. He is in prison. He is behind bars for the crimes he committed. The two men that you're closest to wouldn’t jailbreak someone as atrocious as Zemo. There has to be an explanation. It doesn’t make sense.

“What the fuck is Zemo doing out of prison?!” you hissed, looking between Bucky and Sam, demanding an explanation.

“Y/n, honey, I can explain, just please get in the car,” Bucky pleaded, reaching out to touch your hand.

You glare at him and take a step back. “Are you out of your mind, Bucky? You break him out of jail because you need him, is that it? Do you remember what he did to you, because I certainly do!”

Bucky frowns and lets out a deep and heavy sigh. He looks over at Sam. “Did you fill her in at all?”

“No!” you shouted. “I can speak for myself, James! Someone better start talking and tell me what the hell is going on!”

“We don’t really have time for this right now,” Zemo interrupts, “we really must be going. I’m sure Sam and James can fill you in in the car.”

You glare at the Sokovian terrorist and snap at him. “Shut your mouth, Zemo.”

He raises his hands up in surrender and takes a step back. Bucky towers over you and this time you let him take your hand. He squeezes it gently and pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You’re tense and fuming as he holds you.

His mouth finds the shell of your ear and despite the wave of anger flowing through your body, it sends a shiver down your spine. Bucky whispers, “I hate to say it, but Zemo’s right. We have to go. I’ll explain on the way, I promise.”

You huff childishly and turn your head away from him as he kisses your temple. “Fine. If he steps out of line, I’ll kill him.”

Bucky laughs and takes your hand and walks you to the car. “Get in line, honey. Sam and I have first dibs.”

You resist the urge to smile and Bucky opens the door for you as Sam tosses your bag in the trunk and climbs into the front seat. Bucky slides in beside you and he tells you everything.

He tells you about their first encounter with the Flag Smashers. He tells you about how the leader and a few of her followers have taken a newer version of the serum that runs through his veins. He tells you that she plans on giving the serum to more people to build an army and that you have to stop her.

It makes your heart stop. You hadn’t really been keeping tabs on the Flag Smashers. Now, looking back, you probably should have. There’s still a lot of unknown variables to account for and it looks like the boys are taking it one step at a time, and apparently it starts with a trip to Madripoor. Zemo chimes in every now and then as he drives and it makes your blood boil that you’re forced to listen to what he has to say. You hate that he has the upper hand and is keeping valuable information hostage. You want to strangle him.

After a while, Zemo pulls into a private airport. Bucky helps you out of the car and grabs your bag from the trunk as the four of you walk towards the jet just off the runway. You had no idea just how rich Zemo was. Now that he’s out of prison, for now at least, his arrogance returned back in full force in addition to his pompous attitude.

You board the plane in silence, ignoring every word coming out of the Baron’s mouth. You settle in the back of the plane and ignore Bucky’s stares as you look out the window. You’re too angry to engage in conversation. You don’t care that Zemo insults Steve’s legacy. He’s gone, dead, what do you care? Yes, you wanted Steve to be happy, but he abandoned you. He abandoned Sam and Bucky.

Zemo rambles on and on. “People like Steve become symbols, icons. Then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” he turns to address Bucky directly. “You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?”

Silence fills the space and for a moment, you feel a reprieve. That was until Zemo mentioned the Winter Soldier.

“We can’t go into Madripoor as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

You immediately stand up and protest, storming to the front of the plane. “No. Absolutely not. I won’t let you use Bucky, not again. There has to be another way.”

Zemo clicks his tongue at you and shakes his head. A smug graces his features and you lung at him, wrapping your hands around his throat. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Bucky leaps to his feet and tears you off of Zemo, dragging you to the back of the plane behind the curtains to give the two of you an illusion of privacy. Your shoulders shake with rage and Bucky’s hands caress your face.

“You can’t be him. He’s not you anymore. You don’t have to do this, Bucky. Please,” you begged, clinging to his hands. “I can’t let Zemo control you again.”

Bucky’s touched with how protective you are over him. He pulls you closer and hugs you tightly against him. Your fingers grip the back of his shirt and he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“Honey,” he whispered. “I have to. I have to do this so we can stop the Flag Smashers from getting the serum. It’s for the mission.”

You huffed against his chest. Now you’re really regretting your decision to help Sam. You would’ve said no if you had known that it meant watching Bucky turn into the Winter Soldier again, even if it wasn’t real.

You don’t know what to say. He won’t change his mind. Bucky’s just as stubborn as you are and he’ll do anything for the success of the mission, just like Steve did.

You pull away and return back to your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare into the back of Zemo’s plush leather seat. Bucky trails behind you and squeezes your shoulder. You shrug off his touch as he takes the empty seat next to yours.

“And, I’m afraid that where we’re going doesn’t take too kindly to women who are…. how do I put this…. strong willed,” Zemo said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky barked, jumping to your defense just moments after you did the same for him.

“Selby will see Y/n as competition. We can’t have that happen. She’ll have to stay behind.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m just going to just sit here and do nothing,” you snapped. “I’m coming with. I don’t care if I have to pretend to be meek.”

Zemo turns to look at you. He’s challenging you. You both know it. He’s pushing your buttons and it’s working. He smirks and leans against the armchair. His eyebrows raise and he asks, “Even if it means pretending to be a prostitute?”

Your gaze doesn’t falter and you ignore both Sam’s and Bucky’s protests. It falls on deaf ears. You don’t care, as long as you’re with Sam and Bucky and they’re safe. “Yes,” you answered without a second thought. You’ve done worse things than pretend to be a sex worker. It would be a piece of cake.

Zemo grins, letting out a soft laugh. “It looks like you’ll be joining us after all then, Y/n.”

You scoff at him and look out the window. Bucky drags you from your seat once more and pulls you behind the curtain. You look away from him and he reaches to squeeze your hand.

“You don’t have to do this. You have nothing to prove,” he whispered, brushing the top of your palm with his warm and calloused fingers.

“You don’t either,” you mumbled back.

He smiles softly at your retort and pulls you into his arms. He holds you gently and cards his fingers through your hair. You hum quietly as he holds you.

“Touché, honey.”

There’s a beat of silence between the two of you before you lean back to meet his gaze. His blue eyes pierce through yours and it makes your heart race. You pull away and rub your palms against your thighs.

You disappear behind the curtain once more, leaving Bucky behind.

…

When you arrive in Madripoor, you’re dressed in an outfit that leaves little to the imagination. The dress has a plunging neckline that settles just below your naval. Your chest is barely covered and your boobs threaten to slip over the fabric. You’re dressed for the part, that’s for sure.

Zemo is the first one to look at you when you return from behind the curtain. He whistles at you and it makes your skin crawl.

Bucky shoves Zemo harshly and grips his chest tightly, snarling in his face. “Watch your mouth,” Bucky hissed, shoving him into one of the chairs.

He turns to look at you and you reach to squeeze his hand. You pull him away from Zemo and whisper softly, “It’s alright, Buck. Take a deep breath.”

He grits his teeth and shakes his head, and does what you ask. “I’ll kill him. If he does that again, I’ll kill him.”

You laugh softly and press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I don’t doubt you will, Buck.”

The two of you trail behind Sam and Zemo as you leave the plane. A sleek black car is waiting just off the runway and you follow behind to the vehicle. When you settle into your spot in between Buck and Sam in the back, Zemo turns to look at the three of you.

“It’s imperative that we don’t break character, no matter what. If you do, we’re good as dead, understand?”

You scoff and roll your eyes as he looks towards you. “Crystal,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

He turns to face the front of the vehicle and silence fills the car.

Suddenly, a number of motorcycles surround the car as you drive into Low Town. you make sure to keep your eyes forward and Bucky reaches for the hand on your knee. He squeezes it tightly and you do the same.

Reality is now just setting in for you. This is the first mission that you’ve been on since Steve went back to the 40s, and since Tony died. It had been three long months since Tony saved the world and brought everyone back that was taken five years earlier. You know that three months isn’t long, but it still makes you nervous. You haven’t been training to keep things from going rusty. You had no desire to.

Bucky leans into you, his mouth near the shell of your ear. “You okay?”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah, just a bit nervous. I’m a little out of practice. This is my first mission since Steve left,” you mumbled back, squeezing his hand again to keep you grounded. He does the same in return.

“It’s alright. I have your back. I’ll protect you, promise.”

A small smile finds its way onto your face and you shake your head at him. “You know better than anyone else than to promise something like that before a mission, Buck. It’s bad luck,” you teased.

He laughs too and the car stops in what you guess is the downtown area of Low Town. You take a deep breath and Bucky does the same. You squeeze his hand one last time before his hand falls from your grasp. He opens the door and climbs out. You follow close behind and find your spot next to Sam. He gingerly wraps his arm around your waist as you walk into the Princess Bar.

Electronic music blasts through the speakers and the bass vibrates through your chest. You press against Sam as you push through people to get to the bar. The smell of drugs and alcohol is suffocating as you walk and ignore the stares sent your way. They’re not staring at you, but Bucky, who walks just a step behind you like a looming shadow.

“Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?” Zemo asked Bucky in Russian.

It makes your blood boil and Sam squeezes your waist tightly, a reminder that you must not break character. You hate it. You hate that Bucky has to pretend to be the person he’s worked so hard to distance himself from. Bucky is not him. The Winter Soldier doesn’t exist anymore. That part of him is gone, dead. You only hope that Bucky reminds himself that the Winter Soldier isn’t him anymore as he pretends just feet behind you.

You stand in front of the bar counter as the bartender approaches. You keep your mouth shut as Zemo exchanges words with the man, briefly bringing Sam, the Smiling Tiger, into the conversation. Your eyes find Bucky’s and your heart jumps inside your throat. His eyes are cold and void of any emotion. He’s stoic and brooding. He’s fallen into character perfectly and it scares you to think that all the progress he’s made over the years has been destroyed in this moment. For his sake, you hope not.

You tear your eyes away from Bucky at the feeling of Sam’s hand on the curve of your ass. You watch him carefully as he takes a shot. The bartender moves on and you let out a careful breath.

A man grasps at Zemo’s shoulder and sneers at him. He looks over at Bucky as Zemo asks to see Selby before he walks away. Another man approaches Zemo from behind and he speaks in Russian once more. “Winter Soldier, attack.”

You hold your breath in anticipation as the unsuspecting man rests his hand on Zemo’s shoulder. You want to reach out and touch Bucky, tell him that he doesn’t have to, that the two of you still have time to make a run for it, but you don’t. You can’t. Zemo would probably try and kill you if you interfere and it’s the last thing you need.

Bucky stalks over to him with two long strides, and rips the man’s hand from Zemo’s shoulder. He twists his wrist back and throws him to the ground. Another man swings at Bucky and he stops it with ease. He punches his back and kicks him against another crowny. As another man attempts to punch and kick at Bucky. He uses his metal arm and momentum to take each of them out.

“It doesn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo smirked, leaning over to look at you and Sam.

“Shut your mouth,” you hissed between your teeth as you watched Bucky.

Bucky grabs one of the men by the throat and slams him into the counter. Guns cock all around you as you look around the room. Your heart is inside your throat and there’s ringing in your ears. You reach to grab Bucky’s arm, but Sam beats you to it.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us,” Zemo whispered. “Well done, soldier.”

Sam lets go of his arm and takes a step back, pulling you with him. He squeezes your hip tightly as you watch Bucky’s grip fall from the man’s throat.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said.

Zemo moves to follow him and you resist the urge to reach out and touch Bucky. Sam pulls you along and you walk in silence down a number of hallways. The music fades into the background and you’re squeezing Sam’s hand like your life depends on it.

A number of men on Selby’s security detail whistle as you walk by. You bite your tongue and resist the urge to snap their necks. The four of you wait at the door at the end of the hall for several seconds before it opens. You walk inside and Zemo takes you from Sam’s side. Your jaw ticks as he guides you to the empty sofa. His hand settles on your thigh and you tense under his touch.

Zemo and Selby negotiate for information. All you need to know is who created the serum and where they are. That’s it. Zemo needs to stick to the plan.

Zemo stands up from his spot next to you. “Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum, and I give you him…. along with the code words to control him,” Zemo stands behind Bucky, his hand resting on his shoulder. He’s silent and obedient, the perfect encapsulation of who he had been for the last 80 years.

There wasn’t a discussion over what the offer would be when you were on the plane from Latvia. You just assumed Zemo would figure a way out of it, he was clever enough to do it before. You hadn’t thought that he would actually use the Winter Soldier to his benefit outside of protection. How naive of you.

Bucky’s eyes are dark and he stares straight ahead as Zemo caresses his chin. He doesn’t flinch or react. He’s playing the Winter Soldier perfectly and you hate every second. You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you start to taste blood.

“He will do anything you want.”

Selby grins, leaning back in her spot on the couch opposite of you. She tells him what you need to know. She nears Sam and then the worst happens, his phone begins to ring.

She tells him to answer it and your fingers squeeze into the leather couch. Your heart races and for the first time since you walked into the bar, Bucky’s eyes find yours. You know he can see your panic.

Things are fine momentarily. Sam’s trying his best to stay in character and you know it’s not working as well as he’d like. You hold your breath and your panic settles in at the mention of Sam’s name coming from Sarah.

“Kill them—”

Your eyes widen in horror as a bullet pierces through the glass window in front of you and lodges into Selby’s throat, killing her instantly. The act is over.

You leap to your feet and pull the tactical knife that you hid in your dress out from underneath you. You slice the knife across your attacker’s arm. Bucky kicks him into the wall and grabs you by the arm.

You run as fast as you can out the bar and through the streets of Madripoor. You dodge bullets and fight off others that attack you with knives.

You do well, all things considered with what you’re dressed in. You dig your heel into the boot of your attacker, throwing them off balance. You kick their leg out from underneath them and Sam knocks them unconscious.

Bucky, of course, is doing just fine on his own. You run over to help. You disarm the man closer to you and use the butt of the gun to knock him out.

You barely have time to register the man creeping up behind Bucky. His arm is outstretched with a gun in his hand. Bucky has no clue.

“Bucky!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, running as fast as you can towards him.

He turns to look at you as you use your whole body to shove him aside as the gun goes off.

Time stands still.

You fall to the ground in a daze as the bullet rips through your shoulder. Your eyes stare up into the night sky as it takes you a moment to realize that you’d just been shot.

You try to sit up and get back on your feet. You don’t have time to worry about your wound. You need to get the hell out of Low Town.

Bucky nearly drags you off the ground and you run. You run as fast as you can despite the bullet in your shoulder.

“We need to get out of here!” Bucky shouted, inspecting your wound.

A shadowy figure approaches and Bucky blocks you from view. The hood drops and you peer over Bucky’s shoulder. You don’t have time to be surprised that Sharon is the one standing in front of you.

“Sharon? What are you doing here?” Sam asked.

“We don’t have time for that!” Bucky snapped. “Sharon, please. You gotta help us. Y/n’s been shot.”

She nods and motions for you to follow her. She stops in front of a beautiful blue car and Bucky guides you into the car, pressing his metal hand against your shoulder to stop the bleeding. You ignore Sam and Bucky’s bickering as they yell at you for getting shot. You don’t have the energy to respond.

Sharon races across town and pulls up to a very fancy building. Sharon jumps out and opens the door for Bucky. His arm holds your torso and your uninjured arm is thrown over his shoulder as you walk inside. You gather into the elevator as it takes you to the top floor.

Your entire body goes numb and Bucky guides you to the kitchen counter. Sharon briefly disappears before returning with a heavy duty first aid kit.

“Do you have tequila?” you asked her as Bucky rummaged through the bag for the correct supplies. Sharon laughs softly before grabbing a bottle of tequila from her liquor cabinet. You take a generous sip and the liquid burns your throat.

Bucky inspects the bullet wound carefully. Thankfully it was a through and through. He doesn’t have to fish the bullet out. He works quickly and you grit your teeth as he stitches the wound close on both sides of your shoulder.

The pain lessened to a dull throb now that he’s finished. He cleans the excess blood off your skin before gently placing your arm in a sling.

“Why did you do that, Y/n?” Bucky chastised you, shaking his head in disappointment. “I could’ve taken care of him.”

You scoff and roll your eyes at him. “I don’t even get a thank you for saving your ass? You were vulnerable, I did the right thing.”

He sighs and you look away. Your eyes find Sharon’s. “Can I borrow some clothes?”

She nods and disappears down the hall to her bedroom. Silence fills the room and Sam takes his turn to reprimand you. You ignore him entirely and take another large swig of tequila.

Sharon returns moments later with a pair of clean clothes. You thank her quietly and she points you in the direction of one of the guest bedrooms. You hop off the counter and ignore Bucky’s protests and calls of your name.

You huffed in frustration as you limped towards one of Sharon’s guest bedrooms. You had enough of Sam and Bucky yelling at you for your recklessness, especially Bucky. You’re exhausted and all you want to do is sleep.

You did what you thought was right. You did what Steve would’ve done. You had Bucky’s back. Isn’t that what mattered? Sure, you got shot in the shoulder, but it isn’t something you haven’t done before. You have the scars to prove it.

“Stop running away from me! We’re not done talking about this!” Bucky yelled after you, hot on your heels into the bedroom. “What were you thinking?”

You’re sick of Bucky questioning you. You’re not a child and you’re not the bright eyed recruit he thinks you still are. You did what was right in the heat of the moment. You don’t regret it. You’d do it all over again if it meant that he was safe.

“Stop treating me like a child, James! I’m not Steve’s recruit anymore! I’m a grown woman,” you shouted back at him. Your shoulders shake and you glare at him. “I know you still think I’m that naive 25 year old, but that’s not me anymore. The last five years may have been five seconds to you, but they weren’t to me. Accept the fact that I did what I thought was right.”

“It was reckless!”

“Steve would’ve done it!” you bit back.

“This isn’t about Steve!” he argued.

You laugh bitterly and shake your head. He doesn’t see it. He doesn’t see what you see. You know he sees you as his responsibility now that Steve’s gone. He feels an obligation to look after you because Steve did. You have a part of Steve with you. Bucky’s clinging to any last remains of Steve, and that includes you.

“Isn’t it though? You feel like you have a responsibility to protect me, to look after me. Why? It’s because Steve did and now that he’s gone, you feel like you have to replace him!”

The silence that fills the room suffocates you. Your heart races with anger. You want Bucky to leave you alone. You didn’t ask for this. Sam needed your help, and when you provided it, you got yelled at for it. Now you just want to go home.

You turn your back to Bucky and pull the pants that Sharon gave you up your legs before discarding the dress in the corner of the room. You don’t care if Bucky sees all the scars that litter your backside. Maybe then he would understand that you’ve always done what’s best for the mission, even if that meant getting hurt. You throw the sweatshirt over your head and turn to look at Bucky again.

“Do you have anything else to say to me? Are you going to try and deny it?”

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re one of the only people I have left that have a connection to Steve.”

Another bitter laugh escapes your mouth. He doesn’t understand. “He abandoned me, James! He abandoned us. Steve’s gone. You can’t hold on to him anymore. You don’t have to do anything Steve did. You have nothing to prove to me, I promise. I don’t need you to replace Steve. I need you, Buck. You’re the one that’s here with me, not Steve.”

Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks and you look away from him. The silence is deafening and Bucky moves to take you in his arms. He holds you against his chest and cards his fingers through your hair. You cry against his chest and cling to his henley. He gently guides you to the bed and sits down with you in his lap.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispered, rubbing your back. “You’re right. It just scared me. I don’t think I can handle losing you too. I’m sorry.”

You pull away to look at him with your tear stained cheeks and he carefully wipes away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You blink away the remaining tears and lean into his touch. “It’s okay, Buck. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You rest your forehead against his and breathe him in. His metal hand rubs circles against your back and it sends shivers down your spine. He holds you carefully and no words are exchanged. Your eyes flicker to his lips and your heart thunders against your chest.

There’s a soft knock at the door and you pull your body off of Bucky’s. You sit beside him as Sam pokes his head inside the room. “Is everything okay?” he asked, looking between the two of you.

You look over at Bucky and then back to Sam. You smile and nod slowly. “Everything’s perfect, Sam.”

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes imagines #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #Bucky imagines #tfatws #tfatws x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #Sebastian stan imagines #sebastian x reader #sebastian imagine #my writing

1K notes · View notes

arrowflier · 3 years

Note

I wish you would write a fic where the gallaghers + kev & vee find out about ian's 87% comment and they all give their opinions and ask why mickey, ian's husband who's been a part of ian's life for nearly eleven years only gets 87% of his heart, if the other 13% goes towards his toxic exes and why since they're not in his life anymore, ian explaining himself and ends with ian taking the comment back so mickey has 100% of his heart

I decided this was perfect for Gallavich Week Day 5: Fix-It! Thanks as always to @gallavichthings for hosting💖. Also on AO3.

Eighty-Seven Percent (Anatomy of a Heart)

It was a normal morning in the Gallagher kitchen.

That is to say, it was chaotic.

Carl and Liam sat across from each other at the narrow table, tossing dry loops of off-brand cereal at each other over Franny’s backpack, which lay open between them. The girl herself was running circles around them both in her pajamas, Debbie chasing after her with a stern face and a frilly dress held in outstretched hands.

“Come on, Franny,” she muttered impatiently as her daughter evaded her again by diving under the table, “just put on the dress!”

Mickey laughed when Franny ran to him instead, trying to hide behind his legs where he stood by the brewing coffeemaker. Ian ruined her attempt by swinging her up into his arms and twirling her around until Debbie snatched her from him, resulting in an angry shriek as Franny writhed in her hold.

“For fuck’s sake, keep it down in here!” Lip hissed, coming in from the living room where Tami had just gotten Fred settled in his play pen. “If you get Fred crying again, I swear I’ll fucking end you all.”

If anything, the kitchen got louder as everyone there chimed in in their own defense.

Mickey just snorted as he grabbed two mugs and got to pouring the fresh coffee. “Good luck with that,” he offered to Lip, amused. “You get one Gallagher going, you get the whole fucking pack.”

Lip glared at him, opened his mouth the say something undoubtedly scathing and most likely regarding Mickey’s place in the family, when Carl laughed and chimed in from the table.

“Funny, man, that’s what Trevor said to me and Ian at the station yesterday.”

The room went quiet.

Or maybe it just seemed that way to Ian, who could see the way his husband’s back immediately tensed at the familiar name, the way he gripped the handle of his mug a little too tight and poured the coffee a little too high before setting down the pot with a hard clack.

“Trevor, huh?” Mickey asked, voice deceptively mild, and Ian winced behind him.

Carl didn’t get the memo.

“Yeah, you remember him, right?” he checked. “He still works at that youth place, came in to post bail for some kid when Ian was bringing by lunch.” He shrugged, tossed a handful of cereal into his mouth. “We chatted a bit,” he mumbled as he chewed.

Mickey gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles going white under his tattoos. “Funny,” he said quietly, “Ian didn’t think to mention that.”

Ian sighed, ignoring the eyes of his family on their quickly unfolding drama. They’d been fighting a lot lately, a lot more than they used to, and today had been shaping up to be better, damn it. Now he had to do damage control again instead of enjoying a quiet day in with his husband.

“We’ve talked about this, Mickey,” he started, a tad bit exasperated. It must have come through in his voice, because Mickey’s shoulders went up. “Trevor’s not a bad guy, and I’m not gonna avoid him if I see him around.”

Mickey released the counter to grab his coffee again, taking a long, scalding swallow. “Right,” he said finally, not looking at Ian. “Not a bad guy at all. Just wanted to leave your ass rotting in jail when you couldn’t be his poster boy anymore, that’s all.”

“Mickey…” Ian warned, but it didn’t stop him.

“Tell me, Ian,” Mickey mused, turning to face him with hard eyes. “How much of that thirteen percent belongs to him?”

Fuck. Not that again.

“Wait, what’s he talking about?” Debbie was the one to ask first, voice cutting through their palpable tension. She’d even stopped trying to force the dress over Franny’s head in the interim, allowing the girl to escape up the stairs unscathed. “What thirteen percent?”

“Oh yeah, he told me about that,” Lip butted in. “Said Mickey got all bent out of shape cause Ian still thinks about his exes, or something, right?”

Ian closed his eyes against the hurt in Mickey’s as his brother revealed that he knew about their squabble. Fuck his family right now, seriously.

“Not quite,” he gritted out, but when he opened his eyes again, Mickey had schooled his face back into disinterest.

“No, that’s just about it,” Mickey confirmed. “Got my nose out of joint because Ian, here,” he gestured at Ian with his mug, ignoring the hot coffee that splashed over the side, “said I only got eighty-seven percent of his heart.”

Someone whistled, low and long. Ian couldn’t tell who.

“It’s not that big a deal,” he insisted yet again. “My whole life is a fucking shrine to you, Mick. If my heart was a room, there’s be posters of you on every fucking wall.” He took a step closer, until Mickey’s mug pressed into his own chest, leaving a wet spot on his shirt.

“You really can’t let the others have a little space in that room? Not even in the bottom drawer of a dresser that nobody uses anyway?”

Mickey was still, and silent. Then he spun around and slammed his mug back down on the counter, shoved past Ian, and stormed off up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Ian called after him.

“To clean out the goddamn drawers!”

It was quiet in Mickey’s wake, and then—

“Dude, that’s fucked up,” Carl said frankly, and Liam nodded in agreement, eyes wide.

“Did you really say that?” Debbie asked, sounding horrified, and before Ian could answer the back door slammed open.

“Morning neighbors!” Vee greeted as she came through, Kev on her heels. She was holding something, a dish covered in foil, and a carton of juice hung from Kev’s hand.

“We brought you guys some…” Vee trailed off when no one even looked at her, noticing the tension in the room.

“Uh,” she voiced, confused, “what did we miss?”

Carl answered, still looking at Ian in disbelief. “Ian told Mickey he keeps stuff from his exes in a drawer, so Mickey’s up there looking for it.”

“Oh, that’s cold man,” Kev breathed, and Ian exhaled.

“It was a metaphor,” he muttered, and Vee heard him.

“A metaphor for what?” she asked, curious.

“For the thirteen percent of Ian’s heart that belongs to other people,” Debbie revealed, and Vee set down her dish with a clatter.

“You said that to him?” she clarified, and at Ian’s reluctant nod, shook her head and turned to Kev.

“You ever say shit like that to me,” she said firmly, “I’ll cut off thirteen percent of your dick.”

—

A few long minutes later, after he had finally escaped his family’s inquisition about the state of his relationship, Ian made his way upstairs, alone.

When he got to their bedroom, Mickey wasn’t actually going through their things. He was just sitting on their bed, back to the wall, spinning his wedding ring round and round on his finger. Next to him, balanced on their folded blanket, sat the little box with the fancy ones they used in the ceremony just so they wouldn’t have to take theirs off.

Ian’s heart beat harder. That box had been sitting safe in the bottom drawer of their shared dresser.

The one that nobody used.

“Hey,” he said softly from the doorway. Mickey didn’t look up.

“You okay?” Ian asked, and that at least got a response.

“Do I look fucking okay to you?” Mickey returned, eyes on his knees.

He didn’t. Not really. He looked haggard, and upset, his hair spiky where restless fingers had combed through it. Ian couldn’t see his eyes, but he had a feeling they were rimmed in red.

Ian let himself into the room, sat opposite Mickey on the bed with his feet still firmly on the floor. He reached out to trace a finger over the rings in the box, and then the ring on Mickey’s finger.

Mickey let his own hand fall away when he did.

“You know that’s not how I meant it, right?” Ian asked, suddenly desperate to hear Mickey agree. He needed to know that Mickey understood, that just because he remembered his past, it didn’t mean he wasn’t dedicated to his future.

But Mickey just shrugged.

“Not a lot of ways you can mean it,” he said, and shit. Ian had really fucked up this time. “Either I have your whole heart or I don’t,” Mickey continued, “and I don’t. So,” he shrugged again, “whatever.”

Ian took a moment. A long one. He thought of Mickey’s reaction the first time he had said it, when he was mostly just teasing. The way he had been shocked to think that Ian still had fond thoughts for other men. And he thought of his family downstairs, each one more fucked up than the last, all in agreement over the severity of his error.

And to be honest, he still didn’t quite get the uproar. But maybe that was because none of them got his side, either.

“You’re right,” he began, “you don’t.”

Mickey tensed further, pulling away from him on the bed, but Ian wasn’t done.

“You have all the good bits, you know,” he continued. He went to rest a hand on Mickey’s chest, saw his stiffness, and pointed at his own instead.

“You have all four chambers,” he told him. “Atrium and ventricle. You keep my blood moving, keep it useful, keep me alive. And you have my valves,” he added, trailing a finger side to side to point to the right spots as he spoke. “Mitral and aorta, pulmonary and tricuspid.” He smiled. “You keep me going in the right direction.”

Mickey was softening, he could tell, the tension seeping from his limbs as Ian droned on. He kept going anyway.

“You have all my arteries, Mick,” he whispered. “You’re in all my veins. You said I was under your skin, once?” Ian laughed. “Well you’re under my skin, too. And in my muscles, and in my blood.”

“And the others, they’re like…” he hesitated, searched for the right words. Better words than he had used before. “They’re like cholesterol,” he settled on, “plaque. Or…like the scar tissue from a triple bypass, the parts that don’t work anymore.”

Mickey’s lips quirked, despite himself, and Ian counted it as a victory.

“You have a lot a heart surgeries, Gallagher?” he questioned softly, catching on.

Ian smile widened, and he reached out to take Mickey’s hand. This time, Mickey didn’t pull away.

“Maybe a few,” he admitted. “And maybe I’m better for it.”

He lifted Mickey’s hand to his lips, held it there.

“I don’t mind the broken bits,” he told his husband. “The pieces they left behind. Because you pushed through them every time, and made me healthy again.”

Mickey fidgeted, and nudged himself off the wall to settle closer to Ian’s side.

“Alright,” he allowed, “I get it.”

“Do you?” Ian asked earnestly. “Because I want you to, you know.” He dropped Mickey’s hand to hold his face instead, gently stroking a thumb over his cheek. “I want you to know that that thirteen percent, it doesn’t really matter. All that matters are the parts that are you.”

"I chose you, Mickey," he murmured. He reached out blindly for the spare rings in their box on the bed, worked one free. Slipped it onto Mickey's finger without looking away from his eyes. Mickey's hand clenched around it, around Ian's hand, and held tight.

"I married you," Ian added. "Because I love you with every real part of my heart, every little bit that works."

“All eighty-seven percent?” Mickey prods with a soft expression, leaning forward until his nose brushes Ian’s.

“All eighty-seven percent,” Ian confirmed, and kissed him.

#daily speedwrite #gw2021 #fanfic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #gallavich #fix-it #gallagher family #albeit briefly

255 notes · View notes

bratkook · 4 years

Text

sick entertainment. (m) kth

pairing. hitman!taehyung x hitman!reader genre. smut, pwp warnings. mentions of guns, slight depictions of violence/murder, they’re both hitmen please don’t read if whats mentioned is triggering, they make some dark jokes (they’re sick okay lmao) smut in forms of: oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, choking, dirty talk but its all playful despite it all hehe word count. 6.3k note. this is a request based off #85 off this prompt list (now closed) thank you for sending this in! 🖤 also uh….this may become a series, in which case, consider this a saucy prologue that gives you a glimpse into tae/oc’s...interesting... relationship

The slamming of the door makes Taehyung cock his eyebrow, a sly smile spreading across his face as he mindlessly watches the television, his ears listening to the way your feet stomp on the concrete floors of the loft, no doubt a trail of fire following your path. A laugh is begging to make its way out of him, chest trembling from holding it in because he knows he’s in deep shit, he’d known it the second he had interfered.

Blame it on his playful personality, or maybe his need of meddling in business that very clearly wasn’t his, either way the second he heard the name of the next target you were assigned he knew he had to make a game out of it. Is it sick, or twisted? Maybe, but the man was a well known scumbag, a slimey wannabe mobster that has far too many hits out for him it’s a shock he still has a pulse, well had considering you were back now.

Like every single assignment, he knew this one wouldn’t be missed, wouldn’t even have a news report made on him. It was the main reason why you were able to get away with it all, despite the police showing up for investigations whenever any unlucky bystander stumbled upon their body, they never seemed to dive deeper into who did it. They didn’t have to, they weren’t stupid, knowing not to bite the hand that fed them.

As long as they continued to get a small portion of cash funneled into their department and you all continued to wipe out the low lives that made their job so hard, then there really was no crime committed.

Namjoon called it transactional, but Taehyung called it boring. He liked it messy, enjoyed the thrill of it all, the possibility of not getting away with it, and with the help of police it took that all away from him.

You knew he was up to no good, the gleam in his eyes when you had mentioned who you were hitting next spelled it out for you. Knowing Taehyung like the back of your hand made you wary, accustomed to the way his brain worked like a minefield, he was someone you had to watch from a distance and analyze before deciding your next move.

“Welcome home honey.” Taehyung sings out playfully when he senses you getting closer, that same smile plastered on his face as he turns to face you, only getting wider when he notices the shiny black gun in your palm, one that actually belonged to him. It wasn’t your usual choice, something you no doubt swiped from its hiding spot when you came in, but you couldn’t exactly conceal the sniper you had used an hour prior enough to make it undetected in your hands on your way to your apartment.

He knew it was currently disassembled and tucked into your backpack as you chucked it aside and marched your way over to him, hand clenched around the grip of his Ruger with murder so evident in your eyes. Taehyung doesn’t think you’ve ever looked cuter, even as you raise it up towards his chest once you close the distance between you.

“You’re on thin ice Taehyung,” you laugh as you round the couch, standing directly in front of his sitting form, still casually sunken against the cushions as if you weren’t aiming for his heart. “You really think Namjoon’s going to let you come back if I tell him you’re playing games with my targets?”

Your boyfriend sighs at that, a roll of his eyes being sent your way as he drops his head to rest along the back of the couch with a groan. He didn’t need you to remind him of his current standing with Namjoon, knowing fully well that he had crossed a line by smashing that random man’s face into the fancy bar counter for simply looking at you. It wasn’t fair really, had he taken the time to get to know the guy he would have realized just how high up that random man was in terms of connections, but Taehyung could blame his tunnel vision for cutting the introductions short.

Like you said, his brain was a minefield, one wrong step was all it took before his fingers were tangling into the poor man’s hair and connecting his face with the wooden counter. He wasn’t even sure what set him off, the edges of his sight blurring together as he wrapped his fingers around his throat, pulling out the small gun he always had tucked away with him, pressing the muzzle against his temple and laughing maniacally as the man tried to pry his hands off of him.

He liked to keep things exciting, but unfortunately for him that excitement ended up costing Namjoon far too much in order to keep Taehyung from being thrown into jail, which would have arguably been a lot better than being stuck on what could be considered probation, no longer able to work unless Namjoon deemed it acceptable.

“Children shouldn’t play with guns.” Taehyung mocks, hoping to distract you while his eyes stayed glued to the end of the barrel, following it as you inched it closer with a wicked smile on your face. He knew he was on thin ice, nearly ruining your shot, potentially resulting in the target escaping because of his stupid game. That wasn’t too big of an issue, the chase made it fun some times, but considering this target had a bigger money sign tacked onto their back there would be no way you could let a fuck up slide.

He smiles still, lips curling up and showing his teeth as he focuses on your face now, seeing the way you look at him. You had those crazy eyes he loved to see, full of adrenaline, body still buzzing from earlier, analyzing his every move as you tuck the end of the cold barrel under his chin and slowly cock the safety back with a soft click.

“Who said I was playing?”

The small flash of excitement sparks in his eyes as you dig the muzzle into his skin, his mouth dropping open as he breathes out a laugh, his large palm coming to clutch around your own, urging the gun further into his skin.

“Do it,” he taunts, guiding your fingers to slide over the trigger, floating off of it as you observe him.

“I should’ve done it the second I saw you leaving that bastards apartment” you threaten, remembering the rage you had felt when you witnessed your boyfriend exit the complex and look directly up at the building across from him, knowing you would be perched on the ledge with your gun aimed at the window as you waited. The childlike wave he had sent you from the ground made you want to change your aim towards him, the urge to pull the trigger only increasing when he sent you a simple text telling you to enjoy the chase.

That was the first push of the domino that sent everything collapsing and as you peeked through the window and saw your target frantically packing a bag as he looked around you couldn’t stop the flash of annoyance from flaring inside of you. It didn’t take much guessing to figure out that Taehyung had notified him that his head was on the line and now he was going to try to run.

It was supposed to be a clean job, it was the main reason you preferred to use a sniper instead of the slightly more intimate methods used by the others, all you had to do was disassemble your Sako and get yourself off whatever ledge you were on and that was it, job completed. Anticipating a chase was not something you thought would happen today but the second he began to shove clothes into some random bag you knew you were losing your window of opportunity.

“How far did he get?” Taehyung laughs, eyes full of mischief as you glare at him, that tiny smirk on your face giving you away, showing him just how amused you were at his antics despite the gun pressed against his skin

“The stairwell.” You knew the layout of his building well enough to know exactly what exit route he would take, beginning the chase Taehyung had been so eager to start. Having to get down from your spot and somehow beat him before he left his apartment was too far fetched, but catching him before he exited the complex completely was the only thing that kept you from admitting defeat.

Your heart continues to rapidly beat in your chest as you recall it, how your lungs had burned as you took the stairs two at a time once you managed to get inside the complex, nearly ramming into your target as he rounded the stairwell in his haste to leave undetected.

Had it not been for his already set paranoia he would have simply shoved you aside, not expecting a girl to be the one in charge of taking him out, but the second he spots the unhinged look in your face, the way your eyes glimmer when you realize you caught him, he knows it's too late to run. Thankfully for you, he accepted his fate pretty easily after that.

“Did you leave a mess?”

“I couldn’t use my Sako you asshole.”

Taehyung laughs freely now, his other hand coming to scoop around your waist and pull you closer, your thighs slotting between his. If you couldn’t use your precious Sako he knew you were pissed, hence the gun to his throat. There was nothing you hated more than having to come in close contact with whoever you were meant to kill, you weren’t a fan of the bargaining they tried to make with you, not particularly enjoying seeing their face as you pressed the suppressor of your Beretta between their eyes before you pulled the trigger.

“Is that why you’re so trigger happy right now?” He’s taunting you, biting his lip as he smiles up at you, eyes widening slightly as you gingerly place your finger on the trigger. “C’mon, teach me a lesson. Shoot me.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

The second the last word leaves his mouth, your finger presses down on the trigger, the brief moment of shock is painted across his face when he hears the click, eyes squinting when he expects the searing pain that was sure to follow but it never came. In a blink of an eye his hands are expertly releasing the magazine of his Ruger, letting it fall into his grip as he brings it close to really check to see that it was in fact empty, something you no doubt did the second you entered the loft.

Your joyous laughter fills the air instantly, dropping the gun from its position as you lose yourself in the giggles that escape you. “You should have seen your face.”

Taehyung continues to stare at the empty magazine, looking up at you incredulously, the beginning of a smile once again gracing his face at the pure shock that you actually pulled the trigger. “You were gonna fucking shoot me.”

“Oh please, like I’d ever shoot you–“

“You have!” He remarks, snatching the gun from your grasp and sliding the magazine back into place, remembering the time you gave him a warning shot to the shoulder the last time he tried to meddle in your business. Sure you might have just grazed his skin but a trigger was still pulled.

Taehyung chuckles when you plop onto the couch next to him, body still trembling with laughter as you wipe underneath your eyes for any stray tears. “Don’t tell me to shoot you if you don’t actually want me to”

“You’re a psycho,” he jests, tossing the gun safely aside as he faces you, seeing the oh so innocent smile on your lips.

“Don’t act so surprised.” He’s not, knowing you were two peas in a pod, just the right amount of crazy to level each other out, if any more was added to either of you there would no doubt be actual shots fired. It worked though, a nice balance between you that allowed the relationship to go on as long as it has.

“You’d never actually do it,” he sighs, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his side, smug with the fact that you would never actually hurt him. “You’d miss me too much.”

“Would I?” A teasing laugh fills the air as your hand glides up his chest, fingers trailing towards his neck until they curl around his skin, feeling the rhythmic pulsing of his heart. When your fingers tighten around his neck he chuckles, the vibrations felt against your palm.

The arm slung around your shoulder slides down to your back, scooping you over until you’re settling onto his thighs in his favorite position, a mischievous glint to his eyes flashing when you look at him. “You definitely would baby, who else would be here to drive you crazy like I do?” His deep voice pulls you in, dripping from his tongue in a manner that makes you want to lean forward and savor every drop.

“Should we find out?”

Taehyung just drops his head back once more, a cynical lift to his lips when you bring up your second hand to wrap around his thick neck, fingers digging further into his skin. “Please, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“You’re sick,” you laugh out, squealing when his hands tighten their grip around your waist, his head leveling out as he stares at you with that same glint in his eyes.

“I know I am, but you like it.” A gasp leaves your mouth as he slides you further up his lap, clothed core pressing into the slowly growing bulge in his pants. “Don’t act like I forgot the little stunt you pulled this morning.”

Flashes of this morning play in your mind, the way you had teased him the minute he woke up and felt his cock pressed against you. You couldn’t help yourself when you rolled on top of him, kissing and biting his neck while you slowly rolled your hips above him. Taehyung honestly isn’t complaining about it, who wouldn’t love starting their morning off with their girlfriend so hell bent on making them cum.

The only downside of it all was the fact that you actually hadn’t made him cum, leaving him high and dry with an evil laugh as you rolled back off of him and went about your morning as if you hadn’t just committed an awful crime. That may be the reason Taehyung was so insistent on making your assignment tonight a fun little game for the two of you to play and now that that was done and over with he could finally have you on top of him just like this morning.

“You’re telling me you don’t like when I play games with you?” He huffs out a laugh at the teasing kick to your voice, a sinful smile on your lips as you allow him to unzip your sweater, tugging the loose material off your body to reveal the simple black shirt you wore underneath.

“That wasn’t a game, it was torture.” His words are muffled as he leans forward, lips pressing kisses into your skin, breath fanning out and sending tingles down your spine. It was funny how he could pick and choose what was classified as a game, the earlier antics he caused seeming more like torture than you grinding on him at the crack of dawn but you’d let him believe it.

The hold you have on his neck loosens, your arms spreading out to allow him to slip the sweater off of you entirely, large palms now coming to roam over the small sliver of exposed skin that peeked out under the hem of your shirt. “You know what would be so hot?” His cold fingers leave a trail of goosebumps as he inches the material up, little by little, revealing your belly button, the edge of your bra coming next as you hum in question.

“If you ever wore some hot ass latex or leather on the job.” He groans unabashedly at the thought of you in a tight leather corset, boobs accentuated as it hugged your skin. Maybe you’d wear a cute little garter with your Beretta tucked into it, or one of those adorable daggers you had grown so fond of recently.

It might be a wet dream of his but you just snort at the thought, not being able to imagine yourself getting a decent shot with something so restrictive on, god forbid Taehyung decided to play another game of cat and mouse you’re not so sure a leather corset would hold as you chased your target.

“That's so impractical, I’ll do it for you here though.” That appeases him, a smug smile on his lips as he continues to pull up your shirt, taking his time as if he was unwrapping his favorite present. With your red bra fully revealed he sighs in appreciation, tossing the shirt aside without a care to fully admire you.

His hands cup over your bra, thumbs gently tracing the swell of your breasts before giving a rough squeeze that makes you breathe out a laugh. “Will you really?” He questions, keeping a good hold on you as he flips you over, flat on your back with your head resting by the armrest of the couch. Your elbows hold you up as you smile at him, dazed as you watch him tug up his grey shirt and throw it off to the side.

“Yeah, only if you buy that cute maid costume I found and wear it for me.” Taehyung doesn’t even think twice before agreeing, stomach tensing up as your fingers trace along his skin, circling around the random scars that litter his body from close encounters and senseless fights. They serve as physical reminders of your boyfriend’s careless behavior, that minefield mentality making the worst decisions possible in the name of getting a quick thrill. You follow them up until you reach the tiny scar you were responsible for on his shoulder, shallow and faded to a lighter tan now that it was healed.

“I told you, you’re trigger happy.” His hand grasps your own, bringing it back down to the couch as he chuckles. “I think you’re a danger to society Y/N.”

“Hm, am I?” Your voice drawls out as you stretch out, enjoying the way he watches you like a predator would his prey, sharp eyes hyper focused on your every move and you swear he can hear how your heart races in your chest. When he simply hums in response, nimble fingers beginning to unbutton your jeans, you can only giggle and help him as best as you can, lifting your hips and pulling your legs until the tight material has joined the growing pile on the floor.

Taehyung slots between your thighs with ease now, hands digging into the sofa as he holds himself up and leans forward to kiss you once more. His breath is felt on your face as he groans at the taste of you, forever loving the feeling of your lips on his, an endless craving he would never get over. You taste like your favorite chapstick, sweet like candy, and when his tongue peeks out to get a better dose you breathe his name out in a sigh that sounds like music to his ears.

Resting his weight on his knees, his hands are set on their mission, palms sliding underneath you until they reach the back clasp of your bra, expertly unhooking it until it snaps against your skin. A playful laugh is passed between your mouths as he does so, his teeth gently nipping at your lips before he begins his descent. Sloppy kisses are pressed along your jaw as he pulls the straps of your garment down your arms and lets it fall onto the floor.

As he reaches the juncture of your neck he takes a nice inhale, chuckling when he catches the hint of your sweet shampoo mixed with the metallic tang of gunpowder. “You smell like work–“

“Get off, I’m gonna shower!” You try to swat him off of you but he’s quick to grasp your hands, pinning them above your head, giving you a wicked smile as he stares down at you, loving the way your nose twitches in anger at being held down by his arms and hips.

So cute.

“No, I finally have you right where I want you.”

“Is that so?” Taehyung chooses not to answer you as he starts to continue the trail of kisses down your neck, grabbing both wrists in one hand as his other trails down your chest. The ticklish feeling leaves you fidgeting around as he grabs a handful of your tits, squeezing the flesh before slowly circling around your nipple until it hardens at the sensation. The wet path of kisses passes your collarbones, soft smacks of his lips on your skin as he nears your neglected breast, kisses around the swell of them in a teasing way.

When he finally envelopes your other nipple into his mouth you gasp, arching your back to push more of you into his mouth, feeling the vibrating hum against your skin as his tongue flicks around your areola. Tingles shoot up your spine as he pinches your nipple in his fingers, pinching and rolling the bud between his grasp, the feeling of his sharp teeth press into your skin when he smiles at the way you react to his touch, soft moans flowing past your lips the longer he teases you.

With a slight pop, he releases your nipple, a satisfied laugh hitting the air when he sees the way it’s covered in a sheen of his saliva, rising and falling with each of your breaths. His palm still holds your hands hostage but as you fidget in his grasp he releases them, allowing you to tangle your fingers in his hair, yanking at the soft tufts of dark brown until you were content.

“So this is right where you want me?”

“Almost.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah,” he leans up and kisses you once more before trailing down your body, your hands still tangled in his hair as he descends in the same fashion as before, an endless trail of smooches down your ribs, across your torso and around your belly button. The final kisses are pressed into your hips as his fingers hook into the band of your underwear, pulling the waistband of your matching red thong up at the sides and letting it snap against your skin like an annoying child, snickering at the sound it makes.

When you nudge your knee against his sides he stops fooling around, finally yanking them down your thighs, gingerly unhooking them from around your feets to be forgotten entirely now that he stares down at your exposed pussy. A smile graces his face at the sight, folds wet and glistening, already messy in a way he couldn’t resist as he glides his face against your inner thighs. “This is where I want you.”

Your fingers twirl around his hair as he messily kisses around your lower lips, eyes falling shut as you focus on each touch on your body, the brief nudge of his nose, the had press of his lips and finally, the cool sensation of his saliva as he licks a broad stripe up your slit, tongue collecting the drips of your arousal.

“Fuck, Taehyung.” It comes out as a mewl, head dropping back in awe when he repeats the motion, tongue slipping through your folds, the tip of it meeting your clit in a small jolt that leaves you breathless. He could do this all day, feel each stinging pull on his scalp that accompanies each flick of his tongue, your cries of pleasure only increasing when he spreads your folds apart and dives in with new set determination.

The messy smacks and slurps blend in with your choked breath, mingling in between each gasped syllable that make up his name, pleas of more that he can’t deny. Soft lips wrap around your sensitive nub, sucking gently in a way he knows you love, spelled out by your thighs spreading further apart, hips rutting into his face in desperation.

These deliberate flicks against your bundle of nerves are set to tease, proven when he stops altogether with an evil smile, your arousal coating his chin but he doesn’t mind it, revelling in the harsh yank you deliver to his hair at his stopping.

“Baby has a temper, it sucks to be teased huh?” Taehyung’s words are spoken through a smirk, mouth dropped open as he laughs carelessly, head pulled back by your hold on his hair. The cute pout on your lips doesn’t look threatening in the least, not when he can see just how close you are to falling apart, the subtle twitch of your thighs being telling enough.

“I promise, I’ll never do that again. Just make me cum, please.” His eyes glimmer now, teeth biting down on his lower lip when you guide him back down to your swollen lips, wet with a mixture of your arousal and his spit.

“Deal.” Without wasting another second, his lips are back on you, long fingers joining in as he circles your entrance, slowly easing their way inside in a familiar stretch that makes you arch your back. He smiles against you as he feels the tight ring of muscles wrapped around him, the soft walls of your pussy felt along his fingertips as he curves his digits inside of you, not content until you’re gasping above him as he tickles along your gspot.

“K-keep doing that.” You beg him, mouth dropping open as another moan spills out when he does as you ask, fingers pumping into you, rubbing along your sweet patch as his tongue continues to ravish you, circling and sucking on your clit to give you the release you crave.

“Ah, fuck I’m close.”

Taehyung holds in his laugh as your feet slide along the top of the couch, searching for some leverage as you lose yourself in the feeling. The grip you have on his hair tightens as you near your release, body set alight with each thrust of his fingers, eyes screwed shut as you savor it all. He can feel the way your walls squeeze his fingers, leaving his cock hard in his jeans when he thinks of the way your walls will feel around him next.

With a final flick against your clit you’re shouting out his name, flashes of light sparking behind your closed lids as your body tenses up, limbs rendered useless as the wave of your climax washes over you. Taehyung always loved the way your bones turned into jello when the pleasure rocked through you, fingers losing their grip and thighs flopping onto the couch when he pulled away, face looking entirely satisfied by your reaction.

“That was exactly how I wanted you.” A messy kiss is placed onto your hip once more, leaving a wet spot in its wake that can be attributed to the remnants of your orgasm coating his lips.

“Yeah, you know how I want you?” you pant, giggling when his kisses turn ticklish, eyes looking up at you in question. “Fucking me so hard I forget I’m still mad at you.”

Oh, he could do that no problem.

It’s almost comical how quickly he’s able to get out of his jeans and underwear, his hand wrapping around his cock as he kneels onto the couch again. A smile spreads along his lips when he takes note of the look on your face as you stare at him, eyes following his hand as he lazily pumps his length.

There's pure mischief in your eyes, a tiny devil on your shoulder that cheers at the prospect of you getting what you want, thighs spreading further apart in invitation for him. Taehyung presses his lips together as his thumb rolls over the tip of his cock, smearing the beads of precum around the swollen head before giving himself a gentle squeeze as he inches forward.

It feels like time stands still as you watch with bated breath when he guides his cock to your entrance, a gasp slipping through your lips when he slaps the head of his cock against your sensitive clit, enjoying the small shudder that courses through your body with a discreet laugh.

“Taehyung,” you whine, rutting your hips up impatiently for him to hurry up. He finds pleasure in this though, his constant need to play games with you out ruling anything else.

“What?” He probes, smiling at you as if he didn’t have his dick inches from entering you.

“Fuck me, c’mon.” Your words trail off as his tip presses against you, slowly breaching your entrance in a familiar stretch that leaves your mind spinning. Taehyung can’t even get himself to make a sly remark like he always does, tease you about how messy you were before he even properly fucked you, no his head is wiped out of any witty comment, only able to focus on how amazing you feel around him.

“Shit,” he gasps out, sliding into you with ease from how wet you were, the slick coating your thighs and dripping down onto the couch beneath you. You find comfort in the feeling of his hands sliding up your thighs as he bottoms out, fingers gripping onto your hips so tightly it dimples your skin, holding you still before sliding back out of you in a wet squelch. Taehyung can’t get himself to look away at the visual, how his cock shines in the light, coated in the strings of your arousal.

A choked moan reaches his ears the second he starts to thrust into you, hands keeping you still to prevent you from sliding around from the quick pace he knows you love. Your own hands scramble to reach down, fingers wrapping around his arms to ground yourself as he snaps his hips into you, the laughter mixing with delighted moans letting him know he wasn’t being too rough. No you would never think that, wanting nothing more than to let Taehyung have his way with you, hips knocking into yours with each rock, the head of his cock kissing your cervix in a dull throb that left your nerves on edge.

“Just like that,” you mewl, his attention dragging away from your soaked cunt, looking up at you and seeing the dazed expression on your face. Seeing you like this definitely topped the adorable way you had held a gun to his chest, broken down and vulnerable all because of him. It was a privilege he didn’t take lightly, allowed to see you in a light he knew others hadn’t.

“Fuck you feel so good, so warm,” his words are spoken quietly, almost like a train of thought that hadn’t meant to escape but he means them, completely lost in the way your walls flutter around him, each pulse leaving him grunting in ecstasy.

“You’re right,” you start with a laugh, “I would miss you”

That grabs his attention, hips never slowing as he tilts his head in curiosity. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, no one else could fuck me as good as you do.” He chuckles at that, looking down at you and seeing the evil glint in your eyes as you smile, voice as sweet as honey when you ask him, “Would you miss me?”

Taehyung hums thoughtfully at your question, eyes falling shut when you clench around him on purpose, a teasing laugh leaving your lips as his mind blanks momentarily. “I don’t know, should we find out?” He mocks your earlier phrase as he trails his own hand up your body to your neck, large palm easily wrapping around it. He’s no stranger to the flash of excitement on your face, having grown used to the way you’d beg him to choke you so often it was like second nature now.

Call it sick but it made your brain turn into mush, made you abandon all dignity whenever he wrapped his hands around you. Maybe it should instill a sense of fear into you, knowing those same hands had done so much harm to others, the countless times they’ve been wrapped around other targets with the intent to kill. The soft glimmer in his eyes settles any thoughts before you can even have them, the twisted version of love spelled out in the curl of his lips as he asks if this is okay comforts you because you know he’ll never actually hurt you.

“Tighter,” you mumble out, smirking when he listens, fingers pressing into your skin deliciously. The minute his hands are properly wrapped around you its like your body is lit up, every nerve ending spazzing out, allowing you to feel the pleasure tenfold as his cock continues to fuck you. Each obscene squelch of his cock mixed with the added feeling of him grinding into your clit makes your brain go fuzzy, your legs wrapping around his waist in an effort to keep him closer.

Taehyung knew you loved to be choked, loved to feel the pounding of your blood rushing through your ears, the way the edges of your vision would fade out, his own face speckled in black as the feeling spread. His eyes never leave yours, amazement displayed in them at seeing you fall apart, your small hand laying on top of his in a sense of security. Your chest rises and falls with each breath, the moans and cries only getting softer as your orgasm approaches you, eyes threatening to close.

He knows the signs too well, waiting for the right moment and just before he knows you’ll cum he releases your throat, the sudden rush of unrestricted blood flow pushing you over the edge and intensifying the feeling. It’s evident in the way you gush around his cock, body tensing as your climax crashes through you, your arms desperately clinging onto him as he fucks you through it, soft hushes and whispers pressed into your skin as he kisses you gently.

Your mind wipes out entirely, eyes screwed shut as you come down, body buzzing with sensitivity as you ooze around his cock, leaving an unholy mess beneath you. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” He groans out, the desperate cries and soft mewls of his name are what finally push him over, spilling into you in ribbons of white, rutting his hips a few more times before stilling altogether, panting above you with sweat coating his hairline.

“I’d miss you too.” He mumbles out with a shy smile, gently brushing away the stray hairs from your face as you try to catch your breath. His face looks soft now, almost squishy as his cheeks puff out, it was hard to believe that was the face of a killer.

“Hmm, certified psycho Kim Taehyung goes soft for his girlfriend, who should I notify?”

He snorts at your retort, pulling out of you only to flop on top of you without a care in the world, nuzzling his face into your hair because he secretly loved the smell of your shampoo mixed with the gunpowder he had teased you about earlier. “Maybe the FBI, I’m pretty sure they’d love to know the name of any accomplice.”

“I’m not your accomplice.”

“Right my bad, they think I work alone.” He chuckles as he recounts the way the crooked cops had notified them of the FBI’s increased interest in Taehyung after he had smashed that man’s head in. Really who would have pegged the guy as an FBI agent. It didn’t raise too many concerns for him though, Taehyung hardly meddled in foreign affairs in the states anyways.

Before you’re able to tease him about his fuck ups once more the incessant ring of your phone drones off from the floor. With a groan from Taehyung he’s reaching down and pulling the device free from your sweater’s pocket,seeing it was Namjoon calling, no doubt ready to ask how the assignment went but Taehyung swipes the screen to answer.

“You know, you really know how to kill the mood.”

Your jaw drops as you laugh, attempting to swat at him to grab your phone free from it’s confines but he’s determined, holding it tightly against his ears with a devilish smile.

“Keep it up Taehyung, you’ll be on probation until I say so.” Namjoon’s voice is heard loud and clear through your phone’s speaker, the eye roll your boyfriend gives being comical enough, his mood being dampened at the reminder. With a pout of his lips he’s handing you the phone, getting off of you with a slight grimace when he feels just how sweaty you two had gotten.

Your conversation is quick, finished by the time he was done cleaning up, exiting your room with new clothes on and your favorite robe to hand you. The very evident smile on your lips shows whatever you two talked about must have been good, no doubt having gotten endless praise from Namjoon along with a new assignment. “I know that smile, what’s up.”

Slipping the robe on with a sigh you stand up and wrap your arms around his waist, peering up at him in delight. “I get to use my Sako next week.”

He can only shake his head at the tone in your voice, speaking about using your favorite gun on a target like it was a shiny new doll for you to play with. “You’re psycho you know that.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

#ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #heartsforbts #btsghostie #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung #kim taehyung #bts imagines #kim taehyung smut #new

1K notes · View notes

lovesomehate · 2 years

Note

I should be working on some other writing stuff but you are such a wonderful source of Travis-Laura writing impulses I just couldn't resist by to start this. More than likely not going to hit that 500k though.

'I don't belong here.' The thought crossed his mind for the 13th time.

Parked outside and across the street, Travis stared at the beige and white building apprehensive and feeling out of place. To some of his relief, he didn't completely look out of place in his simple blue plaid button up and khaki slacks. He sure as hell felt out of place though.

When talking to Laura at some point she mentioned how one of her classmates was a 40-something year old man. Travis heard about people going to college in their later years; he had mixed feelings about it. On one hand he thought it was a pointless thing to do their chance came and went and they should learn to live with that. On the other hand he was impressed by people who decided to take on college, to follow new or old aspirations.

‘What else could I have even done.’ He thought back to his youth.

Like any child he bounced around saying all the things he wanted to be. A cowboy, a night, a werewolf (the irony), a cop and even a whale for some damn reason. However as he grew his thoughts of what he wanted to be became more realistic. He toyed with the idea of being a doctor while a friend of the family’s talked about their child’s success as one. The idea of being a teacher only very very briefly danced through his head at some point. Pa threw the idea of him being an athlete, bring some new pride to the Hackett name, but Travis never really was that interested in sports outside of fun skrimishes and watching it on tv.

No, the one career that kept coming back to him over and over again was being a cop. He was nearing the end of his freshman year when he sealed his mind on that fact. His parents had asked him about it numerous times, Ma even asking if he was tough enough for the job inbetween praising Chris for his grades. Half way through sophomore year Pa made it a rule that Travis would watch the news and read the paper on a daily bases and throughout the day. He still didn’t know if Pa was trying to scare him out of being a cop or prepare him for the task. Either way by the end of his final year Travis went right into the police academy.

He’d heard here and there that a degree was required if someone wanted to advance further, but in North Kill that didn’t apply. So he ignored it. Chris went to a community college and came back with an associates’s degree. Bobby wasn’t going to go. Caleb never said anything about college really and just was content enough working at the scrapyard. Kaylee however, the upcoming pride of the Hackett family. Even though it would hear they had expected her to go to college and make a name for herself. Then her heart go in the way and the tragedy of Harum Scarum and the Hackett family began.

Despite the hell of summer from two years ago Laura still decided to go to college. Travis felt some relief to know that he at least only temporarily paused that goal and not robbed her of it completely. Then there were the police investigation and toeing around the possibility of jail time. There were Laura’s frequent visit back to Hackett’s Quarry, in which she reflected on things or came to chew him out. Then her visits involved them talking about things not related to that summer. Then visits where they just would just rest in one another’s arms, enjoy the town and make love.

He still couldn’t believe that he was in a relationship with a girl nearly 30 years younger than him and one he previously kept imprisoned. He sucked in a bit of air, wincing at that fact. However for every break or surprise she always visited him. Always from her school to North Kill and back. It gnawed away at Travis until he found that he had some free time coming up. Actually Travis had quite a bit of free time and with new officers at his precinct he was able to find to time for a vacation. A real one with no work and no family business. He only knew one place he wanted to go.

So now here he was sitting outside what was his girlfriend’s class building. At least he hoped it was. Some of them looked the same, but he checked the pamphlet and looked at pictures Laura sent him several times.

“Travis?” Someone spoke name almost inaudible thanks to the distance.

He looked up from his thoughts and saw Laura there amongst a small group. Blue jean jacket with a pink top underneath, blue jeans and sandals. Her hair was, as usual, tied in a high ponytail and she was currently squinting across the way. He gave a little wave confirming that he was indeed real and present.

“AAAHH!!!” It was screeched of joy that caused everyone in the vicinity to jump and freeze in place.

Laura’s bag was abandoned to the ground as she full speed sprinted from by the sidewalk.

‘Oh shit.’ Once she got closer Travis saw that devilish grin and knew what she was about to do.

He stepped away from the car just enough so that neither of them would bump painfully into when she reached him. She leapt right into his arms, her arms wrapped around his neck, legs gripping his waist and his hand resting just under her butt. She promptly started kissing him, quick presses all over his face.

“Laura!” He smiled despite the light scolding in his voice.

She answered with more kisses now accompanied with exaggerated “mwahs”. Travis grumbled and tried to track where she was aiming with each kiss. Eventually he caught on to her path and when her next kiss came he met his lips with hers. It was light and sweet and he could feel her smile against his lips.

“I’m so happy to see you.” She pulled back to looking at him with a joyous smile.

She looked radiant.

“Same.” Was the only word Travis could bring to mind.

Mate what thefuck what the fuck what the fuck I love you for this holy shit

I don’t know how to express how much I love you for sending me thing fjsnfndndjDm

#ask #anon #travisxlaura #I have the best anons I swear

10 notes · View notes

savingprimrose · 3 years

Note

Hey there, I see youre asking for prompts and I had this idea a few nights ago: the survey corps soldiers are in a mandatory ball or smth like that for the military, and Levi sees the guys that hires him to kill Erwin all those years ago and he gets super pissed (because if he hadnt entered the corps he probably would have been sentenced to death for all his crimes, and then this rich guy plots to kill a high ranking military and a few years later he is free and partying like nothing ever happened.) Everybody sees he is in a sour mood, and Petra aproaches him to ask why and comfort him, whether he tells her what happened or not.

Anon, I'm so sorry it took me months. 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

I hope you like it!

READ ALSO ON AO3

Levi Ackerman hated going to Mitras for precisely two reasons.

One, he hates the rich, snobby people of the upper class.

And two, he hates parties.

And just socializing in general.

Talking to people makes his head hurt. And one of the main reasons that the Scouting Legion even goes to Mitras is, well, for number 2. And if number 2 is the reason why they’re being summoned to the capital then most likely number 1 is involved as well.

And well, you could say that Levi Ackerman will be having the worst time of his life. Thinking about schmoozing up to the rich - and expecting to dance with them with his two left feet - is making him wish he’d be eaten alive by a titan instead.

Levi sulks at the edges of the ballroom, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. He fishes out his pocketwatch from his coat pocket and curses under his breath, he’s only been here for literally 30 minutes and yet he feels as if he's been stuck in this cursed place for all of eternity.

Erwin has left him to go talk with Zachary and the other commanders, Hange is talking the ears off of some noble about titan research and hoping to get much-needed funds for the next expedition, while Mike and Nanaba are having the time of their lives - drinking and dancing.

And his whole squad is missing. He hasn't caught sight of them since the moment they stepped through the threshold of the palace.

"I'll go and fetch us some drinks, Captain."

Eld had said 30 minutes ago. He hasn't returned since.

"And I will get us some snacks."

Oluo had said right after but knowing him, he's probably trapped some new recruit in a corner and started flirting with them.

Levi wonders where Gunther and Petra are. They went off to dance around the same time Eld and Oluo excused themselves. He stands on his tiptoes and cranes his neck in search of them, quickly spotting Gunther on the other side of the ballroom, headed towards who he thinks is Eld.

Petra, on the other hand, is still missing.

Levi sighs and lowers himself back on his heels, slipping his pocketwatch back in his coat.

He decides to hunt down his squad - just so he can bid them good night. He's not needed here, anyway. And his headache is killing him.

Levi opts to find Petra first since he already knows where the boys are. He makes his way around the perimeter of the ballroom, looking this way and that for the familiar flash of sunset-colored hair.

He thought it would be easy to spot her from across the room with her hair but that has proven itself difficult with the number of tall people around and it pisses him off. He has gotten elbowed too many times in one night for his liking and Levi clenches his jaw tight.

Fuck tall people.

He decides to get some fresh air before trying to look for Petra again. He is nearing the balcony when he hears a familiar giggle behind his back and whirls around only to collide with yet another tall person who can't even be bothered to look at where they're going.

The collision caused a vein to pulse in his temple, making his headache even worse than it already is.

"Pardon me. I didn't see -"

The man stops mid-sentence upon seeing Levi's face and Levi has never wanted to kill a person so hard in his life than this very instant.

“I see you’re still alive, Levi,” Nicholas Lovof smirks, looking down his long nose at him.

Fuck this tall bastard most of all.

Levi’s blood begins to boil, “I see that you're out of prison you crusty old piece of shit."

Lovof laughs and Levi felt his hands twitch by his side, itching to punch the older man in the face.

“There’s nothing money can’t buy, Levi.”

Levi balls his fists and grits his teeth, doing everything he can not to slip the dagger out of his waistband and slit the bastard’s throat open right then and there. Levi hates how money makes the world go round. If he did not join the Scouting Legion he would've been thrown in jail for all the crimes he's committed and for all the people he's killed.

He would probably even be dead by now.

Lovof sneers, “What? Nothing to say to that, street rat?”

“Get out of my sight,” Levi seethes, each syllable laced with hatred and disdain. His hand subconsciously moving to the dagger at his waist.

Lovof's eyes dart to the movement of Levi's hand and his face breaks into another shit-eating grin, “You can’t kill me. You can’t even kill Erwin.”

A growl rises at the back of Levi’s throat just as a delicate hand wraps around his elbow, stilling his movement.

“Captain! There you are!”

His eyes fly to the hand curled around his elbow and he instantly knows who it belongs to. Levi watches as the hand slides down his forearm to cover his right hand and take it away from the dagger’s hilt.

He lifts his gaze from it and locks eyes with Petra as she squeezes his right hand with hers, “Dance with me."

She then turns to Lovof with a smile plastered on her face, "Excuse us, sir. I believe my captain owes me a dance."

Lovof smirks and raises his wine glass at him in a mock salute.

Levi nearly lunges at the old man but Petra squeezes his hand tighter to restrain him before leading him away from Lovof and into the throng of people in the middle of the ballroom waiting for the string quartet to resume playing music. The quartet begins playing a soft melodic piece that Levi thinks is more aptly played at a wedding.

“You know I don’t dance, Petra,” Levi nearly growls, still angered from his run-in with Lovof.

“Indulge me,’ Petra says as she transfers his right hand to her left and places it on her waist. She does the same with his other hand and leads him to sway alongside the couples beside them. She loops her arms around his neck and feels how tense his shoulders are. She gives him a small smile, one that he doesn’t notice as he is still adamant in glaring daggers at Lovof’s back.

Petra sighs as she leads him along in the dance. She knows that her captain hates social events but she has never seen him so close to stabbing a person in front of hundreds of people.

“Captain. Talk to me,” she whispers as she caresses his nape with her thumb, the gesture surprisingly tender and intimate and it catches Levi’s attention - his gaze finally drifting back to hers.

Levi relaxes a fraction as she continues to knead at his neck.

“That bastard should be rotting in prison,” He grumbles, hands tightening around her waist.

Petra nods, encouraging him.

”He’s -” Levi swallows, tries to contain the anger rising up within him, “He’s the reason why Isabel and Furlan are dead.”

Oh.

Petra knows about them - about Isabel and Furlan. They were Levi’s family before joining the Scouting Legion. She knew that they died in their first expedition outside the walls but that was it - that was all her captain has told her.

Levi sighs and proceeds to tell her the rest of the story, of how Lovof tracked them down and gave them a job to kill Erwin all in exchange for health care for their friend Yan and citizenship above ground.

“The Scouting Legion was coming for us whether we accepted the offer or not.”

Levi takes a deep breath and stops their slow dancing while the couples around them continued on, “Citizenship on the surface was all we ever wanted, Petra.”

He opens his mouth to continue but closes it again, realizing that they look like fools - standing in the middle of the ballroom while couples around them danced.

Levi takes Petra’s hand then and leads her away from the merriment and out into the balcony. He lets go of her and leans against the balustrade, tipping his head back to stare at the star-studded sky.

"They told me to trust them and that they will make it out of that expedition alive, that we will finish doing the job together and live the rest of our lives above ground.”

Out here under the starlight, he is more open, more vulnerable.

Petra remains silent and lets her captain tell his story uninterrupted. She is content listening and just being there for him - whenever and wherever he needs her.

She tips her head back as well, admiring the way the stars glittered against the pitch-black sky as Levi continued.

“I trusted them.” Levi swallows, "But they died, anyway. I -"

There's a tremble in his voice and Petra sneaks a glance at him and the look on his face shatters her heart.

Levi bows his head and whispers, “I couldn’t save them, Petra. I couldn’t give them the life they wanted.”

A moment passes in silence before a laugh escapes Levi's lips - mirthless and hollow.

Levi turns to face her then, "But no regrets, remember?"

She searches his eyes and wonders how he truly feels. He says these things but his eyes say otherwise.

Petra gives him a small, sad smile, and nods.

"Yes, captain. No regrets."

#rivetra #rivetra fanfic #levi x petra #levetra #rivapeto #ANON I'M SORRY #forgive me i love u #mine #clarza writes

39 notes · View notes

agathasangel · 3 years

Text

leave everything behind but me- part 4 (diane sherman x reader) (NSFW moment)

warnings: same as before, stalking (like full on irl stalking as well as online), drugging, some talk of emotional/physical abuse in this one, death mention. this whole fic is just kinda dark... sorry. Also brief nsfw moment.

summary: this part is from Diane’s perspective. as she looks for her neurotoxin ingredients in a panic, she reflects on how she came into contact with you in the first place, and all the highs and lows of your relationship up to this point.

where the hell are they? thought Diane, looking for the last, most important ingredient in her neurotoxin.

She couldn’t believe it had come to this again. Just like with Chloe.

Diane wondered where Chloe was, what she was doing. About five years ago, with an excellent defense lawyer, she managed to get out of jail for what she had done. She looked far and wide for her stolen daughter, who seemed to be nowhere to be found. She still worried about what became of Chloe, but knew she was probably doing alright. And one day, Diane found a new obsession by the name of (y/n).

It was nearly two years ago now. Diane was beginning to give up on finding Chloe, after three full years of searching anywhere and everywhere with no luck. But she did find something else.

She was staying at a hotel in California, near the hospital where she gave birth to Chloe, in the vain hope that maybe, just maybe, Chloe would be around.

Diane didn’t find Chloe, but she found something else from her past. Her college reunion was being held in the exact hotel she was staying at. She didn’t plan on attending, but then she came face-to-face with her college rival. This woman was the only person who did better in her classes than Diane. Not only that, but she had multitudes of friends, boyfriends, you name it, while Diane had no one. The woman never let Diane forget how much better she was either. It wasn’t the worst thing Diane had ever been through, not by a long shot, but it was a disappointment for sure. College was supposed to be the place where Diane could finally feel like she belonged, and she always resented this rival of hers.

“Diane! We didn’t think you were coming! Oh here, have a seat!” said the woman.

“I’m so sorry about Roger. It was such a shock to hear about.”, she continued, reminding Diane of her dead husband

“Yeah, I still can’t say I’m over it, all these years later.”

“Yeah when the love of your life just drops dead like that, you never get over it, do you?”, she said, far louder than Diane would have liked.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

“Of course, I’m so sorry, Diane, I know it must be so hard for you!”

“Yeah. Um... what’s your family like?”

“Well we have one daughter. Her name is (y/n), and she’s a senior in High School,” said the woman. She then leaned into Diane and said, “But can I be honest? I never exactly wanted kids. Never liked them. I thought it would change when I had her but it didn’t. She’s so... difficult.”

Diane’s blood absolutely boiled hearing this, but she managed to keep a polite face, “But that’s your child. Don’t you love her?”

“There are some good things about her, I guess. I do love her in my own way, but I can’t help but feel disappointed. She’s just not what I thought she’d be. I’m sorry, I thought you may understand. I never get to vent my frustrations about her.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t understand. But, do you, um, by any chance have a picture of her?”

“On my phone, somewhere. Let me look.”

After a while, she found a picture of (y/n). It was fairly recent photo of you at a restaurant, at what looked like a dinner with the whole family. You looked sad and lost, but Diane thought you looked sweet.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” said the woman, almost stifling a laugh, as if there was no way Diane could have meant that.

“I’m sorry, I need to go to the bathroom.” said Diane, as she was starting to turn red in anger and the woman.

“I’ll join you, I need to freshen up a bit.”

“Fine.”

So Diane walked straight into a stall while the other woman followed. Diane started to cry, so angry at this awful woman. She had a child, a beautiful, sweet, girl who was alive, for God’s sake. Diane would kill for what she has, in fact she had killed for it before. But this woman didn’t care about her child, she didn’t appreciate you one bit.

She didn’t deserve you.

Then she heard the woman get into the stall next to her and she decided to leave. But the woman left her purse on the sink. Diane looked into her purse and found everything. All her information was in her wallet, and she took pictures of her address, phone number, and credit card numbers, as well as a couple of photos of you and your father. Diane quickly threw the last photo back into her purse as she heard her enemy get up, and she ran away, all the way back up to her room.

Diane looked at the photos, and started to look for your social media. You didn’t seem to post very often, or have many friends. Most of your photos were of you by yourself, or pretty things you took pictures of, and even a couple of sad poems you wrote. Poetry written by teenagers was usually laughably bad, but hers made Diane cry. She saw herself in you.

Poor little thing, Diane thought. She needs some love. But I can do that for her.

Diane spent about a month following you and your parents around, without any of you even noticing her presence. One day she snuck into their house and bugged it, so that there were feeds of different rooms streaming to her computer at all times.

Diane noticed you spent most of your time alone. You wrote in a journal a lot, and cried fairly often, hugging a teddy bear you had. You just seemed so burnt out from stress from school, stress from your job, pressure from your parents. You fought with both of her parents often. Well... fight wasn’t the right word. Usually, one parent would yell at you and insult you, and you would choose to either take it or not take it.

There was one particular instance where you snapped at your father, telling him how he abandoned you so many times. He didn’t take this well, screaming all kinds of insults. How Diane wished she could hold you, rock you, comfort you and tell you that aren’t any of the terrible things your father told you, and that she’s sorry that you never felt good enough.

Diane snuck into (y/n)’s graduation, too. She knew she couldn’t contact you yet, but she got so much happiness out of just seeing this milestone of your life. All you did was walk across the stage and take your diploma, but Diane beamed with pride for you as you did it.

After graduation, your parents were constantly threatening to kick you out, and the fights got worse, they crying got worse. Diane wished she was there, comforting you, holding you and giving you all the love that your parents didn’t. Diane looked for a window of opportunity into this girl’s life until she found the perfect one. You had put out an ad on facebook for anyone on the east coast looking for a roommate, and Diane put her plan into action. She made a fake account on facebook pretending to be a college girl named “Anna Johnson” and responded to the ad, starting to talk to and getting friendly with you. “Anna” suggested that you take a bus trip and offered to pay the fare, but you refused because you wanted to earn the money yourself. Diane’s heart warmed at your sweet messages, even though they were to “Anna” and not her. “I’ve never had as good a friend as you before”, “Who needs a mom when I have you giving me such great advice?”, “You’re the best!”, every little message that you sent to Diane made her fall more and more in love. Diane bought a little house on the East Coast with the money she got from selling her old house, and hoped everything will fall into place in her new life with (y/n).

Now during the bus trip, Diane needed to follow you closely in her silver minivan, and make sure not to lose track of you during layovers either. Her detour into the coffee shop scared her at first, but once Diane found you, it was the perfect opportunity to finally, after all these months of dreaming, meet you face-to-face. Her new little baby girl, finally. Diane slipped a powdered sleeping pill into her already tired girl’s coffee to make you even more sleepy and suggestible, getting you to come with her to her hotel room.

Back in the present, Diane found the rest of the powdered sleeping pills as she was searching through her medicine cabinet and closet. She got so distracted thinking about you, and all the horribly wrong things she had done to you.

It’s for her own good, all of it. She needs to be protected, she’s too pure for this world, to good, too sweet...

Diane searched through the drugs she had given you, thinking of all the best times the two of you have had.

The first day Diane had been with you in the little house was heaven on earth. Finally Diane had everything she’s been working for for almost a year now right there, in her arms. Diane wanted to give you everything you didn’t believe you deserved. The only catch was that you belonged to Diane, and Diane alone.

She got a job teaching Chemistry at the local High School fairly easily, as she had extensive knowledge (even more extensive than she may have let on in her interview), of the subject, and the school district was completely desperate for competent science teachers. Diane found faking the background check easy, she used her maiden name and an incorrect date of birth and they didn’t ask her about her arrest at all. And now she had her new life set up. A house that she owned, a job to put food on the table, and you.

The next best day for Diane was the day you finally kissed her. Diane was starting to fall in love with you in a more romantic, even a more sexual way, but didn’t know if you felt the same way about her. Then, during one of your movie nights, you kissed Diane, and she felt overjoyed. She kissed you back and finally led you to the bed and fucked you, like she had been thinking about doing every night at this point but was too scared to actually initiate until now. She was in love with the feeling she got from kissing you, from pleasing you. It had been so long since Diane had been this intimate with anyone, and she was your first. And it was a real awakening for the both of you.

It felt so good, you felt so good. This relationship you had was so incredibly wrong in so many ways, but it just felt so right.

Why did it have to change?

Of course, there were still some hard moments. Even Diane admitted that there were times when she could be irrationally possessive of you, getting angry when someone even looks at you the wrong way. She knew that her possessive, obsessive attitude could scare you, and you would even blame yourself for it, but she didn’t know how to stop. She knew that you were getting scared she would become more difficult to please, like all the other people that have been in your life.

Or the times that you would cry, and it happened so often. You would get sad and Diane would hold you and tell you:

“It’s ok baby, you’re here now, you’re with me. I love you more than life itself. You’re gonna be okay, my little angel.”

One night Diane woke up to you crying into your pillow, and immediately grabbed you.

“What’s wrong, baby? What happened?”

“I- I was afraid that you might- that- one day- you might not want me anymore... what would happen if you d-don’t want me....”

“Listen, I will never not want you. You are all I have, remember? And you’re all I need. Come here, that’s right. You’re my baby, all mine.. shhh....”

Or, there was the time you asked about the scars on Diane’s back. She was mortified, but finally told you about her terrible childhood. The horrible abuse from her mother until her death, the foster home, everything. Her desperation to become the mother she never had. You hugged her tight.

“I’m so sorry, Diane, I had no idea... and to think I complained about-”

“Baby, don’t compare your life to mine. All that matters now is that it’s you and me, and I need to take care of you.”

“Sometimes I think I should be the one taking care of you, Diane.”

“Trust me baby, you do so much more for me than you think.”

Then Diane found it. The rest of the paint thinner. And she was ready to take away all your sadness once and for all, and make you hers forever.

#my fics #sarah paulson x reader #diane sherman x reader #diane sherman #sarah paulson #sarah paulson fics

99 notes · View notes

reinerispretty · 4 years

Text

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt17

there’s a lil easter egg in here :) wonder who can find it first!! thanks so much for reading i lov u

pt1

pt16

pt18

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Zuko asked. His amber eyes were transfixed on the tent before him.

“I think you know that isn’t true.” (Y/N) took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “I’ll be with the others if you need me.”

When the group awoke the next morning, Aang was gone. Each member searched high and low for the young Avatar, but to no avail. “I don’t really think this is the time for him to go on one of his special Avatar journeys,” Toph grumbled, to which (Y/N) hummed in agreement. As the group reunited after their searches, Zuko proposed the idea of utilizing the bounty hunter June and her shirshu Nyla in finding Aang.

“Isn’t she the one who paralyzed me?” (Y/N) asked bitterly.

“And me?” Sokka chimed in.

“And me?” Katara added. Zuko shrugged.

“Her shirshu can track someone down from across a continent. If anyone can find Aang, it’s her.” (Y/N) was not interested in the idea of procuring a bounty hunter to find Aang, but it was their only hope.

And that hope was quickly squandered. When they found June and convinced her to help them, her shirshu couldn’t locate Aang.

“Is he dead?” (Y/N) asked. June shook her head.

“Nyla would be able to smell his body. Your friend isn’t in this world anymore.” What that meant exactly, the group had no idea. Even when Aang traveled to the Spirit World, his physical body remained in the physical one. How could he have just disappeared?

“Try this, then,” Zuko said, holding up a piece of clothing to Nyla’s nose. The shirshu sniffed and immediately turned in the opposite direction, ready to dart off into the woods.

“Whose is that?” Katara asked.

“It’s my uncle’s. If anyone will be able to tell us what to do, it’s him.”

Nyla led the friends to the outer wall of Ba Sing Se, where they were met by King Bumi, Master Pakku, and the other great masters they had met over their travels.

“How do you all know each other?” Sokka asked.

“We are all part of the Order of the White Lotus,” Piandao explained. “An organization that transcends loyalty to our nations and instead comes together to fight for the common good.”

“Does that mean my uncle is here?” Zuko asked. Piandao nodded. The six friends were led into the main camps, where many tents had been set up to house other members of the Order. As (Y/N) passed, she recognized a few of the members as people she had known during her time traveling the three nations. Citizens of the Fire Nation that were also part of the Order seemed to be few and far between, but (Y/N) supposed their numbers deteriorated after nearly a hundred years of pro Fire Nation propaganda.

The biggest tent of them all belonged to the Grand Lotus: Iroh. The rest of the group dispersed to discuss battle plans, leaving (Y/N) and Zuko paused just paces away from the entrance of the tent.

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Zuko asked. His amber eyes were transfixed on the tent before him.

“I think you know that isn’t true.” (Y/N) took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “I’ll be with the others if you need me.” Her fingers slid from his and Zuko turned to watch her walk away before taking a deep breath and entering his uncle’s tent.

(Y/N) sat between Sokka and Katara as they listened to Master Pakku describe the Order’s plans to liberate Ba Sing Se. He paused as she joined their group.

“Ah, (Y/N). Glad to see you’re back in the clothes of your home nation.” It was a joke of course, a nod to the last time they had seen each other.

When the Fire Nation was attacking the Northern Water Tribe, (Y/N) had felt defenseless while fighting off the Fire Nation soldiers, so she had unleashed her firebending on them. Soldiers from the Water Tribe had captured her as a spy and it had taken a lot of convincing from Katara that she really was trying to fight against the Fire Nation. It was an embarrassing misunderstanding that led to (Y/N) to choose hand-to-hand combat over her own firebending if she could help it.

“Evening, Master Pakku,” (Y/N) said with a smile.

“Do you really think Iroh and the other firebenders will be powerful enough to take back the city?” Sokka questioned. Both Pakku and (Y/N) nodded.

“His power as a firebender is unparalleled,” Pakku explained.

“He might look like a sweet old man, but he is one of the best firebenders in the entire nation,” (Y/N) added. “I learned some of my best techniques from studying how he fought. Plus the comet will only make firebenders even more powerful.”

“Yeah, but you’re fighting against Fire Nation soldiers,” was Sokka’s rebuttal. “Won’t they be more powerful too?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I don’t mean to sound like a snob, but people like Iroh and I spent a lot more time training than those lousy soldiers. It’ll be a long fight, but not a hard one for Iroh.”

Almost as if he had been summoned, Iroh exited his tent with Zuko as his side. (Y/N) recognized the glistening trails of tears on Zuko’s face, but also saw the happiness in his eyes.

“(Y/N)!” Iroh cheered. She smiled widely and stood to run over and give him a hug. “It is very good to see you again.”

“And you the same,” she said, giving him a bow. “It feels like just yesterday that we broke out of the Fire Nation prison.”

“This is who broke you out?” Katara asked. Iroh chuckled.

“You think I would let the only other sane person in the Fire Nation stay in jail?” They returned to the campfire to further discuss their plans for the comet. Iroh poured them all cups of tea as Zuko and (Y/N) sat next to each other. Katara was the only one who caught the look of surprise on his face and she returned it with a smile as she accepted her cup of tea.

“Katara,” Zuko said. “How would you like to come to the Fire Nation to help (Y/N) and I take down Azula?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Katara said with a grin. The situation still gave (Y/N) a heavy feeling in her stomach, but sometimes the right thing was the hardest thing to do.

Eventually, (Y/N’s) friends and the other members of the Order dispersed from the campfire to retire for the night. Only (Y/N) and Iroh remained, finishing off the pot of tea.

“I see you and Zuko reconciled,” Iroh hummed as he sipped his tea.”

“For the most part, yes.” Iroh was the easiest person to talk to, (Y/N) found. When she was younger and had not even her own parents to turn to, if Iroh was visiting, he would lend her an ear. “I think I’ve forgiven him. Part of me still gets mad thinking about the things he’s done to me and my friends.”

“That is only natural. The heart cannot forget the wounds that it has endured, but it can heal from them.” (Y/N) nodded.

“I’m trying to.”

“I always thought you and Zuko were the most interesting pair.”

“How so?” Iroh sat in silence for a moment as he pieced his thoughts together.

“You are strong in your beliefs. You are not afraid to be defiant if it means doing what is right. I remember when you were younger, I heard you arguing with your mother about why you should continue your firebending training. You told her that you did not care what she wanted you to do, because you knew becoming a better bender would make you stronger.” Iroh chuckled.

“Zuko had told me to say that, so I could stay in training with him. She gave me the punishment of a lifetime after I said it.”

“I am sure. But Zuko was not granted the same strength as you. He is loyal to the people he cares about, which is why it was so hard for him to choose what was right and wrong. He loved you and I but loved his father and Azula as well.”

(Y/N) furrowed her brows. She wasn’t quite sure where Iroh was going with this, but then again, was anything he said ever straightforward?”

“You pushed Zuko to make the right choices and he pushed you to stand up for yourself. As I watched you grow up, I noticed how you rotated around each other. Like the moon and tides, you and Zuko were always the driving force behind the other.”

“Until he was banished.”

“Zuko fought so hard to capture the Avatar because he wanted to restore his honor and return home to you. He will never admit it, but that is all he wanted.”

“And I guess here I was, fighting against my home for doing horrible things and taking someone I cared about away from me.”

“We are all connected, but no matter how hard you or Zuko tried to cut the thread that tied the two of you together, it is indestructible.” Iroh finished the last of his tea and stood. “You must rest. We all have a big day ahead of us.”

(Y/N) watched as Iroh returned to his tent. She squashed out the dying fire. and made her way back to the tens she and her friends had been given. Katara and Toph slept in the first one, Suki and Sokka in the next, and Zuko lay fast asleep in the last one.

(Y/N) crawled into the spot beside him, feeling the exhaustion of the day weighing heavily on her body. She lay on her back and instantly fell asleep.

Katara woke the next morning and decided to rouse (Y/N) and Zuko first, since they would be traveling to the Fire Nation together. She pulled open the door to the tent to see (Y/N) snoring on Zuko’s chest, with Zuko’s arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

Katara dropped the tent door and walked away. She could give them a few more minutes.

---

Tag List!

@mdgrdians , @soft4kei , @bubblebars , @pleasantfankingdom , @vintageroses1014516 , @celamoon , @fangirlanotherjust , @gliderbudgie , @haylaansmi , @jada-cleo , @boxofteenageideas , @disgruntled-gay , @lie-ana , @jasmine-the-amazing , @svsoftie , @buckysfeet , @anime-simp , @imcravingyou , @rosetheshapeshifter , @alrightberries , @izzieserra , @hstott , @random-stupid-stuffs , @jackbamexpress , @jainaixo , @thefoxskinwalker , @kryptidkova , @bigbuckyenergy , @omgwhattheeven , @ohmigooosh , @snapchatisoverrated , @inlove-maze , @harapirena , @sooske , @sweeetteaa , @selenvx , @ilovespideyyy , @saaaasib , @mochminnie , @agentsofblinks , @happyariesbabey , @slytherky , @uglipotata72829 , @og-disaster-bi , @animeluver23

#atla #avatar #zuko x reader #sokka x reader #aang x reader #katara #sokka #aang #toph #zuko #iroh #azula #suki #appa #momo #the last airbender #writing #fanfiction

799 notes · View notes

nomadicauthor287 · 3 years

Text

The Ghost AU

The Bad Batch leaves the orphanage in a hurry after finding out a terrible truth. When they flee they leave one of their own behinds. They find an abandoned house in the middle of the woods.

The children in the orphanage are being sold off as child soldiers to the highest bidder after being implanted with inhibitor chips

So the Headmaster enlists some supernatural help to retrieve their most valued subject. Omega is the experiment of the Head Doctor who was obsessed with supernatural abilities. She is an empath, she’s able to understand the emotions of others and creatures. A hunter enlists the help of the demons and otherworldly creatures to track them down. The demon of the house in the middle of the woods agrees to a deal with the Hunter. In exchange for the capture of Omega, the demon gets the souls of Bad Batch.

Once settled into the house, Omega meets a kid named Boba while wandering the forest. He tells her the house she now lives in is haunted by ghosts and demons of those who went missing in the woods. They bond over exploring the forest to find a well at the end of a cliff.

When she returns only Tech is home working on his computer. She recounts to him how she nearly fell down a well but he doesn’t really pay attention. Then she finds a doll wrapped in newspaper that looks exactly like her. She pays no mind to it while she explores the house. As she explores the house she discovers a tiny door and asks Tech to help her open it but Tech passes the task to Echo.

Echo finds the key and opens the door for Omega. But the door was all bricked up until that night.

That night Omega is awoken by a white rat taking her beloved doll to the tiny door in the living room. When she passed through the door she found the room to be brighter and homey. Then there was the delicious scent coming from the kitchen

Omega finds Hunter cooking in the kitchen but when she turns around she sees he has buttons for eyes. The Other Hunter tells her that he’s the Other Hunter, the “Better” Hunter. Then he tells her to go retrieve the Other Crosshair in the study. She doesn’t think twice about it and runs to the study.

When she goes into the study she finds the Other Crosshair playing the piano. He turned around to reveal that he too, had buttons for eyes. The Other Crosshair sings a song to her which makes her happy. But she didn’t know it was meant as a warning.

After the song, he gives her a piggyback ride back to the kitchen where a delicious dinner was waiting for them. From chicken to mashed potatoes, all the food she couldn’t have at the orphanage. For dessert, there was a cake just for her that said “Welcome Home”

She was confused until the Other Hunter tells her that they have been waiting for her to return. Before she could question it the Other Crosshair cut the cake and served them

By the time that dessert was done Omega felt tired so the Other Crosshair carried her to bed. He tucked her in and read her a story. To her, the normal Crosshair wouldn’t do that.

When she woke in the morning everything was back to normal. The same dreary house she started living in. She tried to convince the others that it wasn’t a dream but they put it off as a childish fantasy.

That day she tried to get Wrecker to help her start a garden but he tells her he has to help fix the van with Tech while the others go to town for food. This leaves her to her own devices with her doll which leads her to the attic.

In the attic, she finds an old projector and decides to fix it up. After fixing it up she sees a film of two brothers flying in the air like trapeze artists. It reminds her of all the stories Echo told her of his twin brother Fives.

She spots another white rat and it leads her back to the little door in the living room. Before she could go in she’s startled by a black cat named Tup. Boba greets her and asks her to go slug hunting with them. They have a great time hunting slugs until Boba is called home by a bell.

By this point, the others have returned and are making dinner which is basically some really bad casserole made by Hunter. She eats it to make Hunter happy but doesn’t eat much.

That night after Tech attempts to read a story normally but ends up overanalyzing the story she sets a trap for the rats. The trap will alert her if they take the bait.

The trap works and soon Omega finds herself back in the other world. This time the Other Hunter cooked her breakfast for dinner. But the Other Hunter tells her to go fetch the Other Wrecker from the garden. Before she could protest about them not having a garden, the Other Hunter gives her some waffles to eat on her way to the garden.

When she gets outside she sees Wrecker riding a giant grasshopper that he uses to help plow the fields and gardens. He shows her that the garden is actually shaped to look like her.

After dinner with breakfast food, the Other Hunter tells her the Other Tech wants to take Omega to a show. She asks what kind of show it is but they tell her it’s a secret.

When the Other Tech arrives she sees that he too has button eyes with a zipper mouth. The Other Hunter assures her that it didn’t hurt him. The Other Tech gestures it doesn’t hurt and has her open his mouth. When he speaks he speaks in plain English. The Other Tech leads her to the basement which turns out to be a theatre

The show they watched was actually a trapeze act with Echo and Fives. The twins pull Omega into their act. She has the time of her life but the Other Tech is uneasy

When the Other Tech was returning Omega she was met up with the Other Hunter and Crosshair. The Other Crosshair brigns Omega to bed but the Other Hunter turns to the Other Tech and makes a gesture for him to smile. In this world the Other Tech is less sassy and a bit more timid.

The next day she gets frustrated with the others when they lock the door because they found rat crap and things going bump in the night. This makes her lash out at them. She tells them that the little door is the best thing that has happened to her in a while. They took away her fun and “everything” she liked.

“I WISH I NEVER LEFT THE OTHER WORLD! THEY TREAT ME BETTER THERE AND ACTUALLY SPEND TIME WITH ME! THEY ACTUALLY CARED FOR ME UNLIKE YOU! AND THEY DIDN’T LEAVE CROSSHAIR BEHIND!

2.) She runs away to a treehouse where she finds another door to the other world. She breaks the lock and goes through it. Boba finds the treehouse and launches a rescue mission by himself.

lil-medic

During all this Echo tells Hunter that Omega needs space. Wrecker suggests they look through the door and they get kidnapped and put into a jail cell in the Other World.

Omega wakes up in the other world in her room but with 3 new plushies in her room

A T-rex, hyena, and a wolf with a bow on its ear

“Why the hell am I wearing a tutu and bow on my ear?” Wolffe growls angrily

They try to talk her into going back to the real world. The world that she is in is a lie and that her real family is in danger.

Before she could question them more the dinner bell rings and she runs downstairs excited.

The trio groans and tries to follow her but ends up falling off the bed.

Omega runs downstairs and accidentally falls down the stairs in front of the Other Crosshair. He rushes to her aid and gently takes care of her. He gives her warm hugs and is more affectionate of her than the real Crosshair according to her.

Eventually, he takes her to go see a circus in the attic with his rats. He gives an outfit for her to wear to the performance while he goes and gets the rats ready.

The plushie trio tells her that their names are Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor. They’re friends of Hunter and try to warn her that she is walking straight into a trap. They tell her that they are just like her but their abilities came from great pain.

She doesn’t heed their warning and instead takes them with her to the attic for the show.

Turns out the show is a rat circus with Crosshair as the ringleader. They did little tricks for her and pulled her into the act with her.

After the show Crosshair brought her to dinner where the whole Other family was waiting for her. There was a lavish meal set out for her.

They ask her if she likes this world and she says yes and wants to stay forever. With that answer, they hand her a box that contains buttons with needles and thread.

A chill ran down her spine but she thought about her life in the other world, the real world. Right as she was about to say yes to the buttons Boba rushes in to save her while the trio of dolls cause a distraction

Omega gets mad at Boba while he drags her through the door to the real world.

Then he explains to her that there was a demon trying to capture her. She asks him how he knows that and he says Tup told him.

She is skeptical until Tup jumps onto the two and explains the whole ordeal.

Tup tells the two that the house demon is a spider demon that traps its prey with illusions. Then he tells Omega that the demon has taken her brothers. Tup pulls the dolls of the Bad Batch out.

Omega finally believes him and asks the others to help her save her real family

When they return to the other world Omega asks to play a game with the Other Hunter. In each of the wonders made for Omega, there is a treasure that belonged to her real family. For every treasure, she finds she, in turn, saves her family’s soul.

Tech and Echo’s treasures are found in the basement theatre and upon finding their treasures they have to fight the Other Echo who is conjoined at the hip with the Other Fives. Meanwhile, the Other Tech lures Omega away and hands her a note saying how sorry he is, and hands her the real Tech’s glasses. After their defeat, the Other Tech and Echo+Fives are reduced to dust.

The real Tech and Echo are released from their prisons within the treasure.

Boba gives the two a rundown of what happened so far and immediately the two hug and checks the kids over for injuries.

The next person they go after is the Other Wrecker and he fights hard. It takes all of them to take him out in order to retrieve Lula from the giant grasshopper.

In the end, they retrieve Lula and Wrecker is returned

The next person they go after is the Other Crosshair in the attic but when they get there he begs Omega not to fight. He tells her that the real Crosshair is not there and that he is just rats. The real Crosshair is back at the orphanage waiting for them to save him

The Other Crosshair tells them that the last of their family is being held by the Other Hunter.

The Other Hunter only allows Omega to come in and play one final game for the soul of the Real Hunter

Now the Other Hunter looked more grotesque now. His skin was cracking and stitches were showing now. He challenges to a game of hiding and seeks with him as the seeker and Omega as the hider.

The others are spectating except for Tup. He helps Omega find where Hunter’s bandana is but the demon doesn’t let her escape.

Omega rallies the souls of those who died to attack the demon for revenge to give her and her family a chance to escape

As they escape the house falls apart on itself. Hunter is in a daze as they escape the house. When they hit the woods Boba leads them back to his home.

Boba lives alone after his father died. The Bad Batch decide to take him with them after the whole ghostly demon ordeal

Then they hatch a plan to go after Crosshair after they find books that Boba was keeping. It was a book about the supernatural. From there they learn everything they can from the supernatural in order to save their brother.

@itsjml @dreamy-day-daze @agentmarymargaretskitz @kratosfan6632466 @eyecandyeoz @echoy-naak @zaffrefox @soundwavetherav

#clone trooper crosshair #clone trooper hunter #clone trooper tech #clone trooper echo #clone trooper wrecker #star wars omega #Ghost au #i did a thing

24 notes · View notes

superfanficnatural · 3 years

Text

The Choice Part 11

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Christian Grey x Reader

Summary: Deciding to get over your crush on Dean, you find Christian, a mysterious billionaire that manages to split your heart into two. Finding out hidden truths, your decision becomes a hard one, who will you choose?

A/N: Hey guys! Been a while but here is the next chapter! A bit slow but this chapter was necessary in order to set some events in place. For everyone who’s stuck with this since the beginning and those who joined later on, thank you so much for reading!! As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Slight fluff

Word Count: 2,767

Italics are thoughts

Masterpost

“I-” you didn’t even know where to start, but you found yourself leaning in, and he was reciprocating.

There was always this pull that you had when it came to Dean. No matter what he did, you always found yourself running right back into his arms. Was it weakness? Love? You couldn’t quite place it, like there was this unbreakable string that connected you to him that he always tugged on, bringing you ever closer. His face dimly lit up with the light of his room behind him, the slight bedhead, his perfectly pink plump lips; simply looking at him made all thoughts leave your mind. It had always scared you, not being able to think straight when you were around him, it almost always led to something happening. As you were only centimeters away from his lips, you caught yourself and softly put your hand on his chest to keep him at bay for the moment.

“There’s something you should know... about Christian,” you whispered.

He immediately recoiled, taking a step back and sighing angrily, “I don’t care about Christian! Is there no way that we can just spend 5 minutes without that douchebag’s name coming up?” he barked.

“Dean I understand your frustration but-”

“Do you, Y/N? Do you really understand how infuriating it is to see you with him?” his eyes were lit with fire and they were aimed right at you.

You looked at him for a moment, what you were going to tell him being put on the backburner for now, “You-” you began to chuckle unable to help it, falling into a fit of laughter, Dean becoming confused. “You’re telling me that I don’t understand how angry it makes you when seeing me with other guys?” your voice was progressively getting louder and louder. “How the fuck do you think I’ve felt for years every time you fucked some other random girl after picking them up at a bar? How do you think I felt when you had finally admitted your feelings for me, then I found you once again kissing another girl at the bar?!”

He was completely silent, shocked at your words, shocked at how he hadn’t realized that you were only doing to him what he had been doing to you for years. Your face was red and your body was heaving with your breaths, the pent up anger you had been holding in being unleashed all at once. His mouth had opened and closed several times, Dean trying to figure out what to say; but he was stumped.

You solemnly nodded your head, “That’s what I thought.”

You stepped out of the room and grabbed the door handle, just before closing it, “By the way, Leila Williams? The girl who tried to kill me? Yeah well Christian had actually hired her to seduce you and get you to fall out of love with me. How well that went right?” without so much as an explanation to the bombshell you had dropped on him, you had slammed the door and stomped away to your room.

Sam had poked his head out of his door, curious as to what the ruckus was but after one look at your face walking past him, he knew exactly what had happened and sighed, closing his door and going back inside. Once you had reached your room, you closed the door behind you and threw your phone onto your bed, pacing around a bit and running your fingers through your hair. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I thought that Christian was the perfect guy, but turns out he has a darkness to him that I hadn’t seen before. At first, you thought it was seductive, a deep carnal blackness he held back, only releasing it when he felt the need to do so. It excited you, everytime you were with him you were secretly hoping that he would claim you, unleashing it to swallow you whole. However, looking at it now, it was much more than that. Instead of claiming you as his, he actively tried to make sure that no one else could meddle in his plans. As if he had planned it out entirely. Get rid of Dean, she’ll come running right into my arms, and I will never allow her to leave. The idea of belonging to someone, as intriguing as it is, it goes both ways. You didn’t know if you wanted to be owned, and not own him just as much. To have Christian make all of your decisions for you? Absolutely not.

Bzz

You turned your head to look at your phone on your bed, Christian’s name on the screen. You walked over and sat on your bed, holding the phone up, pondering whether you should answer or not. Eventually the decision was made for you as it had stopped ringing and he had gone to voicemail. Letting go of your phone next to you, you fell back onto the bed with a huge sigh and dramatically threw your arm over your eyes.

“Y/N? Open the door,” Dean had commanded sharply after knocking on your door.

“Can men just leave me alone for 5 fucking minutes?!” you silently shouted under your breath.

Grumbling to yourself, you stalked up to the door and unlocked it, opening it to find Dean standing in the doorway with an unreadable expression. He walked forward into the room, forcing you to step back. Though he didn’t stop, he kept walking, looking right into your eyes, and you couldn’t do anything but keep walking backwards. Eventually, your back hit the wall and there was nowhere for you to go, Dean getting closer and closer until eventually he reached you. He was mere inches away and he had looked down at you, slowly bringing his left arm up to put on the right side of your head.

“I’m done playing games,” he spoke softly, yet with a steeled resolve behind them. “I am in love with you.”

You nearly gasped, Dean never speaks of his feelings and for him to bare himself to you right here and saying those words with zero hesitation was something that shook you to your core.

“I’ve been in love with you from the first goddamn day I met you and I’ve been fighting these feelings for so long, sweetheart,” he brought his free hand up and softly caressed your cheek. “I refused to make you a target, refused to lose the one person I love most in this world. And I know, I know that I should have told you sooner, but you know me, sweetheart, I’m never good at timing. It’s just,” he sighed, “seeing you with him, it killed me.” His eyes were shining with nothing but genuine sorrow and truth.

His gaze was so intense that you looked down, unable to even fathom the feelings that were building in your chest. He refused to let you shy away, cupping your chin and tilting your head up, leaving you no choice but to look right at him.

“I am in love with you, and no one will ever change that. Not Leila, not Christian, no one, ok?”

You slightly nodded as best as you could with his hand on your chin, unable to even form words.

He smiled lovingly and leaned down to kiss your lips softly, your eyes closing at the tenderness he offered you. Pulling away after a few moments, he took a step back and moved to sit on the bed, patting the spot next to him.

“Now, tell me everything, please.”

The entire time that you had known Dean, you had always known him as someone who had no idea how to put his feelings into words. He’s always been the expressionist, the emotion he projects in his eyes always telling you everything you needed to know. Now, he’s managed to finally break through that barrier and articulate what he was feeling. Smiling softly, you nodded and sat down on the bed next to him, not ignoring the feeling you got when your knee brushed his.

“I... might have played Christian on our date,” his eyebrow quirked.

“And how exactly did you ‘play’ him?” he asked, curiosity peaked.

“Well, I paid someone to pretend they were choking so I could get my hands on his phone and check his texts...” you hesitantly revealed, hoping he wouldn’t think you were a psychopath.

Though, to your surprise, he bursted out laughing, throwing his head back, “You-” he was barely breathing, “you went through all that just to get into his phone? Damn, Y/N! Remind me to never hide stuff from you.”

You laughed with him, appreciating the lighthearted energy in the room for a moment before continuing, “Yeah, well turns out, he was actually texting Leila. Based on what she was saying, I’m pretty sure she’s an ex girlfriend of his.”

“So he had told her to try and seduce me, but instead, she tried to kill you to have Christian to herself?” Dean questioned, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he tried to piece everything together.

You nodded solemnly, “Yup,” you said, popping the p, “I know Christian has good intentions and I really do believe that he has feelings for me.” You paused with a sigh, “But there’s a completely different side of him that he’s hiding from me, and I can’t be with someone like that.”

Dean looked at you in shock, “Even after everything, you’re still capable of not despising him? I’m starting to worry about your mental health, Y/N.”

You punched him in the shoulder with a laugh, “Shut up. What else am I supposed to think? I really like him and even though he had hired Leila, it wasn’t a violent thing, more possessive. The second he found out she was involved in actually trying to hurt me, he threatened her and promised that he would send her to jail.” Dean tried his best to hide his jealousy and anger but you could always see through him, “Dean, I’m sorry if I’m talking about Christian so much with you-”

“Y/N, it’s fine, really,” he responded with a small smile forming on his lips.

“...really?” you quirked, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

He barked a small laugh and got up, “Talk about Christian all you want, but I’m going to be the one that you fall in love with, not him.

Without so much as another word or even a second to let you respond, he left the room and closed the door behind him.

...WHAT

Your mouth was agape and you were staring at the door wide eyed, your mind racing a million miles an hour yet not a single coherent thought was processing in your head. Did he just say he was going to make me fall in love with him? A blush slowly rose up to your cheeks and a giddy feeling had risen in your chest. God I feel like I’m some dumb girl in high school. Before you could start screaming into your pillow, your phone began to ring next to you, picking it up, you saw Christian’s name light up on the screen.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you answered, “Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s so nice to hear your voice,” Christian breathed from the other side of the line.

You could almost hear the smile in his voice and although you tried to fight it, it warmed your heart a bit, “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no! Nothing at all!” he rushed out, sounding extremely nervous. You heard a deep breath on the other line before he spoke up once again, “I know you must hate me for what I did, and I completely deserve it, but I’m done hiding. If you want to know the real me, all of me, I’ll show you, if that is what you want.”

The coincidence was uncanny, to think you were seconds away from breaking it off with him unless he had shown you every part of him, to him offering you the chance was something that baffled you. There was no chance that you were going to miss out on this, everyone makes mistakes, and although this was a big one, he’s trying to make up for it in the best way that he can.

“It is,” you simply responded.

The relief in his voice was abysmal, “Perfect,” he tried to hide his happiness but didn’t do a very good job at it, “my plane will be at the airstrip at 3pm, if you still want to give me another chance and get to know me, it’ll take you right to my private airstrip. I’ll pick you up from there.”

“Alright Christian, but just know, this is your last chance, I’m not the type of person to give more than a second chance,” you made it clear that this was his last chance, done playing games with men who couldn’t tell you anything straight.

“Of course, I’m just thankful that you’re offering me this chance, you will not regret it. I will show you the parts of me that I’ve been hiding, but I must warn you, there are things that you might not like.”

Based on what had happened on your first “date”, you had a feeling that you knew exactly what it was, and it excited you, “I understand, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” he said before hanging up the phone.

You plugged your phone into it’s charger and placed it onto the nightstand next to your bed, throwing your head back onto your pillow and looking up at the ceiling. Why can’t I just choose? Stupid heart falling in love with two guys that honestly are probably going to treat you horribly, Y/N. Your brain told you that you needed to pack your shit and get the hell out of dodge, but your heart told you to stay, and gave you hopes of an amazing life with both of the men in your life. Though, it’s not that easy; Dean, or Christian. In terms of who would be the perfect boyfriend, you would have to give that honor to Christian, but in terms of what they made you feel, Dean is the one who takes the cake. Not to say you didn’t feel anything for Christian, maybe because you’ve known Dean much longer? Also, Christian has no idea that you’re a hunter. I’ve been on his ass about hiding parts of himself but he still doesn’t know that I’m a hunter. What kind of person does that make me? But after everything you had been through with both of these men, a part of you also says to choose neither, and just move on with your life. Though you had a feeling that neither of them would make that easy, Dean would find you anywhere in the world and Christian could just get on his private jet and fly to anywhere you try to go. A choice it is then. Tomorrow, you were going to tell Christian the truth about who you were as well, and if he didn’t want to be with you any longer, then that is his choice. He deserves the truth just as much as I do from him.

After a few more minutes of thinking, you got up and walked over to the bathroom, taking off your clothes and turning on the warm water. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you took that time to reflect on yourself. Tracing every scar on your body with your fingers, your eyes raking over your features. Why do Dean and Christian like me so much? Both of them could get any woman that they wanted, hell, they probably already have. What makes me so special? You couldn’t find an answer, but in reality, you didn’t want to try. Because if you did, and found nothing, it would shatter you. Shaking those thoughts from your head, you turned and went into the small cubicle, letting the warm spray run over you. You took a relatively quick shower, feeling pretty tired and wanting nothing more than to crawl under the covers and get some shut eye. After you had dried yourself off, you put on your pajamas and turned the light of before getting under the covers. Closing your eyes, before you had completely fallen asleep, the last thing that went through your mind was Dean, and him telling you that you were going to fall in love with him.

Next Part

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp @shadowsinger11 @donnaintx @flamencodiva @impalawrites @talesmaniac89 @malfoysqueen14 @wonder-cole @downanddirtydean

SPN Forevers Tag List: @deanwanddamons @waywardbeanie @anathewierdo @janicho88 @katehuntington @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @winchest09 @smol-and-grumpy @jensengirl83

Dean/Jensen Forevers Tag List: @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @deandreamernp

Female Reader Tag List (All Fandoms): @punof-agun

Tag List for The Choice: @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @spnfamily-j2 @greenarrowhead @vicmc624 @pie-with-hunters @m-winchester-67 @ellewritesfix05

#dw #dean winchester #dean #dean x reader #dean imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean reader insert #reader #reader insert #series #fluff #the choice #christian grey #christian grey x reader

57 notes · View notes

mystical-flute · 3 years

Text

Summer Heat, Boy and Girl Meet (SFWeek Day 2)

Tallahassee AU or Summer Love

AO3 || FFN

@mysteryandnonstopfun

Get a job at Camp Sherwood, her father said. It would be fun, he said.

Emma Nolan was not having fun.

In fact, she wasn’t sure she was going to make it to the end of the month without landing in jail for attempted murder. Or, if things continued to get even worse, actual murder.

The source of her ire?

Neal Gold, the counselor of Cabin 4, and his merry band of lost boys who loved to cause trouble to the girls of her cabin, Cabin 8.

The problem had started on the third day of camp. The kids had started settling in and getting used to the routine, and Emma had become more confident in her abilities as a camp leader.

Neal Gold had noticed this, and had planned a spontaneous water fight between their cabins, ambushing the girls on their way back from canoeing. That was fine, lighthearted enough, and it had been a hot, humid day, so the extra water had, admittedly, felt good.

But then it had all gone downhill.

Shaving cream had been next, as the girls had been coming back to their cabins from an arts and crafts lesson. Luckily (in Emma’s opinion), they’d had to leave their crafts to dry, and nothing had been broken.

The third was scaring her campers when they’d had a late-night bonfire. Emma had planned it perfectly - s’mores, campfire songs, the works. And then Neal and his stupid campers had decided to jump out of the bushes just as they’d started telling scary stories. The boys had somehow constructed a monster costume and had jumped out of the bushes. If the kids hadn’t already been aware of Emma’s sour attitude toward Neal Gold, it would have looked like it’d been coordinated by the two counselors.

The worst prank had been when they’d returned to their cabin from a hike through the forest. It had been so nice to learn about the local wildlife and plant life, that for the afternoon, Emma had nearly forgotten about the trouble she’d been having.

Then they’d made it back to their cabin to find all of their belongings tossed onto the roof, including Emma’s mattress.

Despite her complaints to Director Sherwood, nothing had been done. The pranks had been waved off as harmless summer fun, which meant Emma had only one other option: revenge.

She’d started slowly: releasing a harmless, wild garter snake into the cabin (“Goodness, Gold, you guys should learn to shut your cabin door!”), greasing the entryway so many of them slipped on their way in after their movie night.

Then, he’d caught on to what she was doing.

He’d confronted her about the pranks, she had snapped back at him, and somehow (both of them swore up and down they hadn’t done it), a syrup-drenched piece of french toast from that morning’s breakfast had flown through the air and landed on Director Sherwood’s wife, Regina.

It had all gone wrong from there, a full-blown foodfight exploding in a second. It hadn’t lasted long, but Director Sherwood had known immediately who was likely at fault (even though she and Neal absolutely weren’t), and had forced the two of them to clean the mess hall alone, while he took their cabins out to the zipline and rock wall.

“I can’t believe I got stuck cleaning this with you,” Neal scowled, flicking a piece of bacon at her.

“Hey! I didn’t want to do this either, but you’re the one who’s been pranking my kids all month!” she retorted, scraping drying maple syrup off one of the tables with a groan. “I just wanted to be a good counselor and give the kids a fun summer, but you had to go around disrupting us all the time!”

“You think I didn’t want to do the same? Be a good counselor and have a little fun with the kids in my cabin? Isn’t that why we’re all here?”

Emma tossed a dirty rag into a bucket of equally-disgusting water. “Do you get off on scaring little girls? Alice had to sleep with me the night you dressed up as a knockoff Frankenstein, and we had to look for Ella’s lucky blanket for three hours after you put our stuff on the roof!”

Neal went unusually quiet as he processed her words. “Oh. Emma, I’m - ”

“Sure. You’re ‘sorry’, you promise you’re done, but then the minute I walk out of here, you’re going to be plotting something else,” she scoffed.

“No - I mean it,” Neal threw a sponge down and raised his hands in a show of surrender. “I didn’t know I’d scared any of your kids. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Emma scowled. “I did! Director Sherwood didn’t do anything.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“Was I supposed to believe you’d listen, after everything that’s happened this month?”

A pause. “Fair point. I’m calling a truce. No more pranks.”

She looked him up and down, trying to find the catch, or to find the lie. She had always been good at it - her father had once told her she was made for detective work.

But she couldn’t find any with Neal, so she sighed, holding out her hand. “Fine. Truce.”

“C’mon, let’s finish this up. If we’re lucky, we might be able to ride the zipline once.”

“Yeah, okay. Sounds like fun.”

Emma’s shoulders ached, from the amount of force used to scrub the mess hall, but by the time they’d finished, they had missed out on the zipline, and the kids were busy practicing their skits for that night’s talent show. They’d missed the pizza that had been called in for lunch, too.

She groaned, rubbing her eyes. “Now what do we do?”

“You hungry?”

“Well, yeah, but - ”

Neal smiled and pulled two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches out of his pocket.

“Neal!”

“What, did they expect we’d eat wild berries and dirt for lunch? Come on, let’s go sit by the lake. We’ll be able to hear when the rehearsal ends.”

He was becoming a terrible influence, but Emma saw no other option as she followed him, plopping down on a rock and nibbling at the crust of her sandwich.

“Where you from, Emma?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s this little town about two hours from here. I doubt you’ve heard of it.”

“Try me.”

“It’s called Storybrooke.”

Neal choked on the bit of sandwich in his mouth, taking a long drink of water. “No shit? My stepdad is from there.”

She stared at him. What were the odds of that? “What’s his name?”

“Jerkass. Dickwad. Motherfu - oh, sorry, you meant his real name. Killian Jones.”

“Any relation to Adam Jones?”

“Think that’s his twin brother. Why?”

“He’s one of the deputies that work under my dad.”

“He’s a cop?!” Neal laughed, doubling over and wiping a tear from his eye. “Could you send him to NYC? I’m pretty sure my stepdad is some sort of thief. Or worse. Mom keeps getting some really fancy shit and then, wouldn’t you know it, the news comes on with a store being robbed.”

Emma frowned. “Jeez, Neal. You don’t have to live with him, right?”

“Nah. Dad has custody. I live with him most of the time.”

“That’s good at least.”

“Yeah, he and Belle are fine.”

They settled into a comfortable conversation then, and Emma found that underneath all the stupid pranks, Neal Gold wasn’t too bad. And he was, well… kind of cute.

Not that she’d ever tell him that.

“GOLD! NOLAN! I hope you two aren’t slacking off!” Director Sherwood suddenly yelled.

The two jumped up.

“Sorry, Director!” Emma called. “See you later, Gold.”

“See ya, Nolan.”

The rest of the month went smoothly, much to Emma’s relief. The girls had come to enjoy themselves, and she’d made a new friend with Neal.

As she lifted her duffel bag onto her shoulder the last day of camp, she frowned as something hit the ground.

A peanut butter label? How had the label to a jar of peanut butter ended up in her bag?

She carefully unfolded it, feeling her eyes widen as she took in the note scribbled on the back.

Call me if you’re ever in the city. - Neal

#sfweek2021 #swanfire #emma swan #neal cassidy #ouat

17 notes · View notes

darling-i-read-it · 4 years

Text

Kaiseki

2x01

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, mental health problems, jail, angst

Author’s Note: Season! Two! This may be a little harder cause Will is in jail and it’s to big a plot point to change. But i love will graham so much dudes. I hope you guys enjoy!

I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar. Those sentences are not mine.

Official Episode Summary : The psychological thriller based on the Hannibal Lecter legend returns. FBI profiler Will Graham has been framed for Lecter's crimes and wants revenge.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

Tag List: @llperfectsymmetryll

(not my gif)

“Kaiseki. A Japanese art form that honors the taste and aesthetic of what we eat,” Hannibal said to Jack Crawford as he sat at his table. The lighting of the room was pleasing but also semi threatening. Not that Jack noticed. He wasn’t very good at noticing things. Hannibal himself had noticed that.

“I feel guilty eating it,” Jack said, looking down at the dish. It was amazingly well put together. It was no surprise that Hannibal had done it.

“I never feel guilty eating anything,” Hannibal said with a small mischievous smile. Jack took a bite and chewed a bit.

“Can’t quite place the fish.”

“He was a flounder. I last prepared this meal for my Aunt Murasaki under similarly unfortunate circumstances,” Hannibal said. Jack waited for him to go on and when he didn’t he nodded.

“What circumstances were those?” Hannibal shrugged.

“A loss. This is a loss. Will is a loss. We’re mourning a death,” Hannibal said gently.

��Will’s ‘death’ is on me,” Jack said. Hannibal took a bite of his food and chewed for a moment, considering this.

“It’s on both of us.”

“I doubt that Y/N would consider you had anything to do with it,” Jack suggested. Hannibal smiled a tad at the mention of your name and the fact that you likely wouldn’t suggest Hannibal was much to blame.

“I tended to be kinder to her and more compassionate to Will,” he said.

“Abigail thought that you liked them both a bit more,” Jack said chuckling. Hannibal shrugged.

“We’re all friends.”

“Do you have friends Hannibal?” Hannibal shrugged.

“I had Will. And of course Y/N.” Jack pointed his fork at Hannibal.

“I don’t understand how you managed to stay in her good graces.”

“I suppose she had about as many friends as I did.”

“I still can’t comprehend it. Will’s gonna be convicted of five murders. I’ll be convicted of one,” Jack muttered.

“You’re not on trial.”

“I will be. In the halls of the FBI. So will you. According to Will Graham, this was all you. Another place where I’m not sure why Y/N continues to see you.”

“Will was your bloodhound. You can’t ignore where he points.” Hannibal smiled at his plate. “And I do believe you’ll be on a trail in her mind as well.” Jack sighed.

“What’s one more person to convict me,” Jack said.

Alana stood beside you. You had a few papers in your hand. The only reason you were still Hannibal’s secretary at all was so that you could have the hours off to come and advocate for Will. Alana handed you another piece of paper and you looked over it.

“You’re a goddess Alana,” you muttered. In your hands you held all the complaints and disagreements Alana had ever had with Jack about Will. Behind the scenes she had been formally sending in a few letters when she believed, like you, that Will should not have been put into the field.

“You can give Jack all the hell you want but until the FBI looks into it, nothing will happen. And Will’s entire life has changed due to Jack’s actions. It deserves to be documented.” You nodded, a smile gracing your face. She put her hand on your cheek and made you look at her which you did. “You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah well,” you shrugged. “This has put a rare smile on my face,” you promised. She pursed her lips. She looked into your eyes and moved her hand away but she still looked concerned.

“I’m doing everything in my power to make sure that Will Graham has a fair trial and that he isn’t convicted.”

“Because you think he did it but he wasn’t in the right mind,” you muttered.

“You do too right?”

“I don’t think he did it period.” She shook her head.

“Then who did? And don't’ say Hannibal otherwise I’m going to have to throw you in the hospital.” You shook your head. You felt tired. You hadn’t been getting much sleep. It was probably an attachment issue when it came down to it. Not being able to sleep beside Will was harder than you thought it would be. The bed always felt cold. Other than that, you had been worried about Will here. Your mind wandered when you tried to sleep about everything that was going through his head. You had the dogs. He had Frederick Chilton.

“I don’t know who did it Alana. I would like to converse with my boyfriend about that but Chilton has limited visiting hours the bastard.”

“I’ll try and talk with him. We’re sort of friendly. I think I yelled at him about something a while back but he doesn’t seem to remember it.” You nodded and handed her back the papers on Jack.

“Make him pay.” She nodded.

“I will.”

The phone rang as you sat on the porch with the dogs. Winston sat in front of you while the others played and whined at the door. He had been doing that on and off since Will was arrested. You picked up the phone and pet Winston, trying your best to calm him down.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Bev said. You tried to make some emotion come out when you spoke next but nothing emerged.

“Hey.” Bev cleared her throat. You didn’t want to fight her. You truly had no interest in it. In fact, Bev had always been in your corner so the worry that she might not be today would have made your heart hurt if it wasn’t already pretty numb with bitterness.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing,” she said.

“As well as you may expect. But I appreciate you calling.” She hummed.

“I’m sorry this happened. I know you didn’t ever agree with Jack.” You scoffed.

“You could say that again.” She laughed lightly.

“I’m going to see Will soon. For help on this case. Jack doesn’t know. But I kinda wanted to tell you first so that he didn’t tell you and then you were by default pissed at me.” You weren’t very pleased to hear that but there wasn’t much else you could do.

“I would go in saying you support him or something. He might help you more.”

“Thank you.”

Hannibal noticed you at the desk. He wasn’t having many patients and didn’t expect to see you. You still had on your coat and looked like you weren’t staying. But still, you looked over the computer and let out a sigh.

“Do you need something?” he asked. You looked up, surprised to see him. He also didn’t look like he was staying. “I thought I gave you a few days off.” He knew he did. He did it explicitly.

“I just thought I left the necklace Will gave me here. I guess not. It’s probably in his car but I have no idea where he put the keys,” you said and laughed dryly in remembrance of sweeter times. “Where are you off to?”

“I have to go and see a crime scene,” he said. Your eyes went wide and another dry laugh left your lips.

“Nice to see you ‘the new Will Graham’,” you muttered.

“I don’t think Jack intended it to be like that.” You shook your head.

“No because you can’t be nearly as good at it as Will was.” Hannibal was the only person to notice the shift in your emotions correctly. Not from happy to sad. It was from normal to bitter. He would likely see the same shift in Will Graham if he decided to go see him.

“Would you like to come?”

“Is that the best idea? Doing my boyfriends old job with Jack Crawford watching me like I was going to slip up at any given second?” Hannibal shrugged.

“Perhaps it would be good for you. Step where Will once did.” You shook your head.

“Thanks Hannibal but I can’t today. Maybe another murder.”

“Off to see Will?”

“Off to attempt to see Will. Perhaps have a fist fight with Frederick Chilton. I’ll decide in the car.” Hannibal laughed lowly and walked over to you. He put a hand on your arm and you leaned into his touch, happy someone was touching you.

“If you ever need a dinner,” he started and you nodded.

“I’ll call.”

“You’re not worried about what Will says about me are you?” he asked. You shrugged.

“I don't know yet. I just have to talk to him.” Hannibal nodded and you looked up at him. “I care about you Hannibal.” He was silent for a moment and then hugged you, placing his hand on the back of your head.

“I care about you as well.” And for once, Hannibal was not lying.

Chilton shook his head.

“You will only hinder his therapy,” he said simply. You shook your head and walked up to his desk.

“Do you think for one second I would do anything that could cause Will to be this bad ever again? I can’t simply not see him.”

“What if he doesn’t want to see you?” Chilton asked. You were stumped at that. Your face fell.

“Did he say that?”

“Not in so many words. Just maybe that it would be better for you to live a life on your own.” You shook your head and a small smile went over your lips.

“You’re lying.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I know Will Graham better than anyone in this whole world and he is just conceited and rude enough to tell you to go to hell before saying that about me.” Chilton looked up at you from his spot behind his desk. You stared hard into his eyes.

“Alright,” he muttered. “Once a week. Thirty minutes.” You nodded, happy your point had been made. “Come back tomorrow.” You nodded and turned around, taking your small victory with you out the door.

“How was Dr. Bloom’s visit?” Hannibal asked. He sat across from Chilton at dinner in his home.

“He asked her to hypnotize him to recover memories. This is delicious,” he muttered, pointing at the food.

“Was he successful?”

“Only in playing Dr. Bloom. It’s sad to see a brilliant psychiatrist fall for such hoary old chestnuts,” Chilton said simply.

“She wants to believe him. I do, too.” Chilton looked disappointed at that and looked down at his plate, then back at Hannibal.

“Will’s girlfriend paid me a visit earlier. She seems like a piece of work. I understand why they go so well together.” Hannibal shrugged. Chilton could tell he was acting as though he were indifferent despite clearly having a side. He just wasn't sure which side that was.

“She’s stubborn but rightly so,” Hannibal said.

“What, you think I should let her see him? I agreed to once a week but I’m still on the fence.” Chilton chewed on a bite.

“I don’t see how it could hurt. In fact, if you plan to utilize the cameras and audio you might get something out of it,” Hannibal suggested. He was very aware that Chilton wanted nothing to do with something he couldn’t get a thing out of.

Chilton thought this over.

“Perhaps I could give her a few extra minutes. If you think that would be wise.” Hannibal shrugged.

“Maybe I could think about it.”

Hannibal sat in the car with you outside of the hospital.

“Will has made accusations against me. Very serious ones,” Hannibal said.

“Again, I’ll make up my mind about those when I talk with him.” You weren’t sure why you were so nervous. It was just Will. You weren’t scared of Will or anything. Perhaps it was the anticipation.

“But bear in mind who you know me to be,” he said. You nodded and thought really hard about what you knew Hannibal to be.

“You hid the fact that Abigail killed someone,” you muttered. “Who says you weren’t the murderer after all?”

“You and Will also hid that. Perhaps you’re the murderer.”

“If I was the murderer Jack Crawford would be sprawled very neatly across a particular place,” you muttered bitterly.

“I don’t doubt that,” Hannibal said chuckling. You turned to him and he held your hand, squeezing it once. “Best of luck.”

You got out of the car.

The walk to the cell was a long one. It was odd, the anticipation of knowing Will was so close. When he came into view his eyes were closed. At the sound of your footsteps they opened.

He turned to you slowly and you smiled subtly.

“Where were you?”

“Fishing,” he whispered.

“Sorry I interrupted.” He shook his head.

“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.” You walked up to the bars and put your hands on them. He did the same, your hands touching. He was warm but not boiling as he had been when he had that nasty fever.

“I only have like, 30 minutes.” He nodded.

“Step back to the white line ma’am!” the guard at the end of the hall called. You turned around but didn’t move an inch.

“No!” you called back. Will laughed dryly.

“You’re supposed to be scared of me,” he whispered. You shook your head.

“Ma’am!” The guards walked over to you and you shook your head angrily, stepping back to the line, so far away from Will. But you didn’t want to be kicked out.

“I’m not scared of him,” you said to the guard.

“Doesn’t matter. The white line,” he said to you. You nodded stiffly and he walked away. The distance felt greater than it really was. When the guard closed the door at the end of the hall you stepped back to the bars.

“You’ve never followed any rules have you?” he asked, laughing.

“Not once. Now go on.”

“I resurfaced a memory.” You nodded, gesturing for him to go on. “Chilton can hear us.”

“That was the memory?”

“No,” he said and laughed a bit. “Just telling you we need to be quiet.” You nodded. “Hannibal shoved that ear down my throat.”

“Abigails?”

“No the other one.” You nodded, accepting your ignorance.

“And you think he did all this?”

“I know that they already looked at him and Beverly looked over everything but I know he did this. When i remember what happened to me I can tell you more.” You looked at the ground.

“Did he do stuff to you while I was in the other room?” Will shook his head.

“Don’t blame yourself.”

“I do. I blame myself for letting this happen and if Hannibal, no matter how much I like him, did this to you than how can I ever-”

“Just don’t trust him.”

“He’s all I have out there. Him and Alana. And the dogs.”

“How are the dogs?” he asked.

“Winston misses you. Sometimes he thinks he misses you more than I do,” you whispered.

“You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping.”

“Neither do you. But I like not cutting the hair,” you muttered and messed with his curls. He gripped your hand tighter around the bar. “I wish you could come home.”

“Me too. Honestly.”

“Soon,” you promised. “Alana has some things she wants to look into.”

“And I keep firing lawyers.”

“FBI lawyers,” you corrected. “I would too.” You looked at your watch and he glanced over to it as well.

“20 more minutes,” he whispered. His eyes caught yours and he gestured for you to sit down. You both did. “Tell me about your day.”

2x02

#will graham x reader #will graham imagines #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter

215 notes · View notes