#i don't think i have to tag spoiler...it's been a few days

[circusclowne]

clash to be queer

[lucabyte]

even dogs pass the mirror test

[scarletmika]

Stay With Me : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds/Sentry x Ex-Widow!Reader

Summary: Bob wants to feel useful, to truly be part of the team, but the others don't think he's ready. You take it upon yourself to teach him control, to guide him through. But mistakes will be made, and it might not be possible to keep the darkness from creeping back in once more.

Warnings: fluff, angst, idiots in love, violence, death, language, SPOILERS I guess for Thunderbolts*

Word Count: 5,292 words PART TWO: Always : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,”

To be fair, Yelena Belova had every right to be apprehensive of your idea. It had only been a few months since The New Avengers had been formally established, and the team itself was still finding its groove working together. Standing up to Valentina and saving Bob from himself? That was one thing. Receiving missions from Valentina’s team, having to travel the globe in order to save innocent civilians? That was a whole other can of worms that they’d popped open without thinking of the consequences.

The amount of missions the team was needed on was slowly ramping up, going from just two a month to now almost four in just the last month. The entire team wasn’t always needed for certain mission: Bucky, Yelena and yourself had been sent on solo missions, while Alexei had tagged along with John and Ava on others (much to their dismay at times). There was always one agreed-upon rule: Bob was staying in the Watchtower.

It’s not that the team didn’t want Bob with them, because everyone did. They knew he wanted to feel wanted and feel useful, that he didn’t want to simply do the dishes after dinner every night and read through every book that had accumulated in his room. The problem came down to control. When they had fully explained what had happened that day in New York to him, the Void and how he became his worst fears, the small sense of control he seemed to have over his powers had slipped. His worst fear had quickly become losing control once again and hurting his team, hurting the people of the city.

You, though, had another idea.

“I think it’s time, Lena,” you tried to reason with her that night in the kitchen, the pair of you working on the load of dirty dishes together. Yelena cleaned while you dried them and put them away, working in tandem just as you had for many years within the Red Room, memories you both wanted to forget. “Bob is capable of controlling it, I know he is, he just needs help. Just let me train him, show him some basics and help him find that sense of control again.”

“And if he loses control? If the Void takes over his mind again?”

“I’m not scared of him,”

Yelena scoffed, shooting a smirk toward her oldest friend before focusing back on the dishes before them, hoping to finish them sooner rather than later.

“Just because you have a little soft spot for Bob doesn’t mean your idea is the best idea,”

“I’m not asking any of you to help me,” you shot back, bumping your hip against hers with a pointed look for her comment about your soft spot for Bob. “Just trust that I can do it. I believe in Bob, and that’s enough for me to try.”

Yelena paused at the sink, quietly watching as you placed the dishes up into the cabinet where they typically went, and let out a sigh, shaking her head.

“Fine, but it’s on you if it goes wrong,”

“Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Convincing Yelena was the part that you knew would be easy. You’d grown up just houses down from her, Natasha and Alexei, kept there under the watchful eye of your own Red Room spy posing as your mother. You’d escaped America with them, been trained through the Red Room and escaped mind control with Yelena by your side, and brought down Dreykov once and for all with her, too. There weren’t many people Yelena trusted in the world, but you were one of the very few. You knew it might take slight convincing, but she’d ultimately trust your judgement in the end.

Now, convincing Bob was a whole other story, one you knew wouldn’t be easy.

“No uh, no way,” you sighed, watching Bob pace his bedroom and wring his hands together. He glanced at you for just a second before shaking his hand again. “Using my powers means being the Sentry and I can’t be the Sentry without…you know…”

“And it’s been months since there’s been any incident, Bob,” you tried to explain to him softly. Without giving him a chance to pull away you reached forward, silently taking his tense hands in your own and squeezing them. “Look, you’re holding my hands and I’m not being transported into any shame room!”

Bob tried his best to laugh at your attempt to lighten his mood. His cheeks flushed a bright red as he pulled his hands from your own, shaking his head as he sat back down on his bed, picking back up the book he had been reading before you’d come in and pitched your idea to him.

You took a deep breath, wracking your brain for any idea to hopefully convince Bob that this was good for him, that learning control again would be good. The cover of the book in his hands distracted you, a smile crossing your lips in an instant as you recognized it.

“I remember buying that for you last month, along with the rest of the series,” you told him gently, sitting down on the bed beside him and gesturing to the book. “Seems like you’re enjoying it, since I’m pretty sure that’s book three.”

“It’s not bad. Helps pass the time,” Bob shrugged, looking back to you with a shy smile. “You have good taste.”

With a shared smile between you both, you bumped your shoulder with his lightly, glancing down at the book before looking back to his eyes. God, were you fond of those blue eyes.

“You trusted my book recommendations…can you trust me on anything else?”

Bob didn’t hesitate before speaking again.

“I trust you more than anyone,”

The way he said it, so sure of himself, made your smile grow even wider.

“Then trust me when I tell you that this could be good for you. Learning control again will help you, even just the smallest bit of practice and control can be good for you. Please, just try? For me?”

It was quiet between you both for a moment, eyes never leaving one another, before Bob’s voice came out softer than it had before.

“Yeah…yeah, okay. Let’s try,”

It was a process…a long process to say the least. It took almost two weeks before you could even get Bob fully comfortable in the full gym that tower had for him to even consider channeling his powers again. He never liked going to the training room when John and Alexei were there, Walker always managing to make snide comments toward Bob. You knew Walker cared, he just hated wearing it on his sleeve and masked it instead, but that didn’t mean you appreciated the small remarks.

Instead, you’d gotten Bob comfortable with heading to the training room whenever Bucky and Ava were sparring, the pair tending to leave you both alone unlike your other friends.

“I know you can do it. Just focus on it, channel your energy into it, and command your mind to do what you want it to do,”

You didn’t have an extension range of powers the way that Bob did, so you weren’t entirely sure that what you were instructing Bob to do was actually helpful to helping him learn control, or even get comfortable with his powers again. But he was trying, and that was enough for you.

Bob took a deep breath beside you, focusing in on the 20 pound medicine ball on the ground across the room from the two of you. He held his hand out, making your mind flashback to that day in the tower when you were forced to fight against him, something you had refused to do, and you saw the furrow in his brows as he tried to focus in and command the ball to move. There was silence in the room, besides the sound of Ava and Bucky talking across the room.

You watched Bob in silence as he seemed to grow more frustrated, desperately trying to move the ball across the room toward you both. You placed your hand on his arm, thumb gently rubbing across his skin in the most gentle and comforting way you could muster, tone hushed as you spoke just to him.

“You can do this Bob, just focus. You can do it,”

The tenseness in his body seemed to leave him at your words and your touch. Bob pulled his hand back in toward him, and for just a second, he was delighted as the weighted exercise ball finally moved across the floor.

Until it stopped just an inch after moving.

Bob’s head was buried in his hands in seconds, and you could see the deep flush in his cheeks through the cracks in his fingers as he mumbled to himself. You couldn’t entirely hear him, but you could make out the words “mistake” and “useless” clear as day as your hand made its way to his back, rubbing it comfortingly.

John Walker’s obnoxious laughter from the doorway cut through the silence of the room before you could encourage Bob to try again.

“Wow! I thought after a few weeks you’d have his control and powers in better shape there, Widow,” John whistled, stepping slightly further in through the doorway. You could hear Ava mumbling to Bucky about how this wouldn’t but good, but John didn’t seem to care. “I mean an inch! Wow! I mean hey, it’s not all about size right?”

“Walker, that’s enough-”

You tuned out Bucky’s scolding of John, looking back to Bob. His hands had left his face, his eyes trained on the ground, as he continued to mumble to himself about how he was useless. Your blood boiled in an instant, reaching down to take one of Bob’s hands in your own and squeeze it in comfort as you turned your glare back to John.

“Hey Walker? How about you shut it, yeah? If I wanted to hear an ass’s opinion I’d take myself down to the zoo and ask the fucking donkeys,”

John laughed again, shrugging off Bucky as he tried to place a hand on his shoulder, pointing over at you. Your hand tightened around Bob’s as he did.

“Want to say that again, Widow?”

“Ex-Widow, thank you very much. You should remember that your dick belongs in your pants and not in your personality,”

“Keep running your mouth. This little experiment here of yours isn’t good for anyone. Just because you’ve got a little soft spot for Bobby boy here doesn’t mean-”

Walker was cut off as the medicine ball Bob had been trying to move was flung across the room, narrowly missing his head and embedding itself in the doorframe behind him, shattering and splintering the wood and burying itself in the wall. Ava’s gasp was the only other sound as Bucky grabbed Walker almost by the back of his neck, shoving him out of the room with a gruff comment of “let’s go” as Ava followed behind.

Your eyes finally left the piece of exercise equipment now one with the wall of the room, gaze turning back to Bob. His hand was held up in the direction the ball had flown, but it was shaking slightly. You trailed your gaze up to his eyes to see he was already looking down at you, eyes blown wide as she stammered over his words.

“I wasn’t, that- that was a mistake. I didn’t- I really didn’t mean to do that he was, he was just- he’s such an asshole sometimes-”

Your laughter cut him off, pausing him in the middle of his tracks as you gripped his hand tighter, forehead falling against his shoulder as he stiffened for a moment, before relaxing and smiling slightly at the sound of your laughter ringing through the room.

“Oh my god, Bob, that was brilliant! I’m going to use that idea next time Walker decides to be a dick to mask his own troubles, that shut him right up!”

“I didn’t mean to, though,” he quickly backtracked, shaking his head as you lifted your head, looking up at him, though still holding his hand tightly. “It was a mistake.”

“Mistakes happen. We’re human, it’s natural,” she smiled at him, tilting her head toward the ball. “Now…do it again.”

Bob stared at her for a moment, truly trying to discern what he possibly could’ve done to deserve you. You’d stepped between him and Walker down in the vault, keeping the former Captain America from laying a hand on him, you’d almost died in the elevator shaft to make sure he didn’t. You’d refused to fight him that day in the penthouse, trying to bring him back, and it was ultimately you who was the first one to run to him and pull him back from the Void.

When he looked at you, he could feel the flutter in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. He knew what it meant, but he couldn’t find the words to say it. It was in thinking of that four letter word while staring down at you that he’d pulled the ball right back to the two of you, letting it hang in the air before you both for a moment before dropping it to the ground.

Your eyes had never left his, your smile only growing wider and your fingers slotting between his own.

“Not bad, Bob. Not bad,”

It was a month later that your idea would be fully put to the test.

HYDRA was the most stubborn organization, like an insect that just refused to die. Steve Rogers couldn’t stop them in the 40’s, and there was no stopping them now. They’d rebuilt momentum as an organization during the Blip, with cells popping up around the country. It didn’t take long for information to come in about their new main base; an underground compound hidden within the Five Ponds Wilderness in upstate New York. The New Avengers had been tasked with infiltrating and dismantling the base, taking in as many soldiers within for questioning by the US government, and recovering any intel that they’d managed to steal during their rebuild time.

It was an all hands on deck operation, the team knowing it was going to take all of them in order to fully infiltrate and dismantle this large base. In your eyes, that meant no one was sitting this one out.

“You guys handle dismantling and capturing soldiers. I’ll handle intel recovery…and I’m taking Bob with me,”

The comment had everyone at the briefing table pausing, including Bob, who had opted to sit in the corner of the room after you had asked him personally to attend the briefing with you.

John refused to meet your eyes, knowing his single apology weeks ago wasn’t enough to calm how angry you still were over the situation. Alexei and Ava shared concerned glances, while Bucky and Yelena seemed to have a conversation entirely with their eyes. The former Winter Soldier was the one to turn back to you, giving you a small nod.

“He’s ready?”

“I think he is,” you trailed your gaze over to Bob, giving him an encouraging smile. “The question is, do you think you’re ready?”

Bob looked at his teammates, his friends, seeing the apprehension in their eyes. But all it took was one look back to you, to the pride and encouragement shining in your gaze on him, that had him sitting up straighter.

“I am,”

It was that simple sentence that had Bob finding himself trekking through the wilderness of upstate New York behind you, decked out in a minimal tactical suit that the team had insisted he wear for the mission. He didn’t mind it, anything was better than that monstrosity that Valentina had put him in before.

“Is this normal?” Bob cautiously questioned you, stopping alongside you in a clearing in the woods you’d finally gotten to. “You know…splitting up? The team all uh, went another way didn’t they?”

“Our mission is intel recovery and intel recovery only, so it was easier for us to head through this separate entrance,” you explained, kneeling down in the leaves below your feet and brushing them away, revealing the steel door below your feet. You glanced up at him, smiling. “This should bring us closer to their control room, which minimizes the amount of fighting that we have to deal with.”

Both of you finally making your way through the hatch and down into the halls of the, Bob stuck close to your side as you guided him through the halls, earpieces in your ears alerting you to updates from the rest of the team. The hallways blinked in the emergency red lights you knew would be going off, signaling that the base was in lockdown mode. That meant your friends were doing their job further down the compound.

You’d briefed Bob on the mission on the very short jet ride to upstate. Taking the separate entrance would mean minimal fighting for both of you, which you wanted for Bob. You wanted to ease him into missions like this, especially when he was afraid to fully unleash his powers and be ‘The Sentry’ in fear of losing himself. You found a middle ground, instructing Bob that you would handle the majority of anyone you came across as well as the intel dump to your central computers back at the Watchtower. All he had to do was watch your back for stragglers.

With the compound in lockdown, most of the HYDRA agents had been pulled to the main fight. Using the tech embedded into your suit, you did a quick scan through the control room door, highlighting the agents that were inside.

“Just follow my lead and watch my back,” you mumbled to Bob, hand on the door of the control room, glancing back at him with a small smile. “You’ve got this.”

Within seconds of throwing the control room door open you were inside, launching yourself over the row of computers, legs spread as you took down two agents simultaneously with kicks directly into their throats. You ducked under another row of tables as shots rang out from the gun of another agent, propelling yourself up and above the table toward him. His gun tracked your movements, shots ringing through your ears, but the bullets hovered in place. Bob was barely through the doorway, one hand stopping the bullets from touching you while another held off the agent rushing toward him with ease.

In the signature move you’d learned from Natasha herself, your thighs enclosed around the neck of the agent shooting at you, twisting your body until you were both thrown to the ground, With another single twist of your legs you heard a crack, quickly scrambling back to your feet.

With one agent dead and two down you glanced to Bob, who was entirely fine holding back the agent that was struggling against his powers to get to him. Kicking the chairs before you out of the way, you quickly inserted the USB into the main computer drive, initiating the sequence to download any intel that HYDRA was harboring in the compound.

Bob was simply staring at the man in front of him, head tilted as the agent struggled against his mental hold on him that held him in place. Realizing that he needed to be focusing on watching your back instead of messing with the agent, Bob quickly threw him across the room, the agent’s head hitting a wall and knocking him out almost immediately. Bob smiled to himself for just a moment at the sight; he felt bad for hurting anyone, even if these people were bad people that needed to be stopped. But to have this kind of control over his powers was a miracle to him, something he didn’t believe was possible. And he owed everything to you-

“BOB!”

He frantically turned, seeing one of the agents back on his feet, hand wrapped around your throat and body pressed against the row of computers before them. He could hear your choked coughs from across the room, your feet pushing against the man’s chest in a desperate hope to knock him off of you. It was to no avail, though, as the agent lifted his other hand with some sort of device encased in it. The HYDRA agent pressed the button on top of the device, the entire body of it lighting up red in seconds.

“NO!”

You sucked in a deep breath as the agent’s hand was ripped from your throat in seconds, your own hands flying to your throat as you tried to regain control of your surroundings. Bob with a single flick of the wrist dragged the man aross the room, launching him into the wall opposite you at the speed of light, a sickening crack sounding through the room.

Your eyes locked with Bob’s for just a second before you both looked to the beeping, red device at your feet. Without a moment’s hesitation, Bob flew across the room in what seemed like a blink, grabbing hold of the device and launching it across the room toward the door where you had entered. In the next second he turned, covering your body with his own as he pulled you both to the ground just as the device containing a high powered bomb exploded.

In an instant your hands covered your ears, feeling the rush of heat from the blast and pieces of debris rush past you and Bob. He body stayed crouched over yours, keeping anything from the blast from hitting you. It seemed to go on for what felt like forever until all that was left was the smell of smoke and gunpowder in the air and the faint crackle of electricity from destroyed wires.

After another moment to recover, you crawled out from Bob’s arms, quickly turning to the harddrive behind you to pocket the USB and whatever intel you were able to download before the explosion. You turned back to the area of the blast, and felt your breath leave you at the sight.

The entire wall that connected to the main hallway was gone, the ceiling having come down on top of it as well, almost splitting the room into almost half of the size it had been when you had first entered and encountered the agents. Wires were exposed within the ceiling, pipes leaking down into the room as small fires burned in the explosion area of the rubble.

“Widow, Bob, answer us!” fully coming back to your senses, you could hear John’s voice through the earpiece in your ear. “We heard an explosion, does one of you copy?”

“One of the agent’s had a bomb, but we’re both fine,” you called back to the team, still breathing heavily as you surveyed the damage before you. “The room…not so much.”

“Did you get the intel-”

“That’s not important,” Yelena’s voice cut off John’s, and you could hear the concern within it. “What’s wrong with the room?”

“My best guess is we’re trapped now, given that an entire wall and half the ceiling was just blown out,” you relayed back to them. “We’re underground so I really don’t want to think about being trapped within a concrete room with what I can only assume is a limited amount of oxygen, so if the three super soldiers on this team could hurry their asses over here and help dig us out sooner rather than later we’d appreciate it.”

“Stay put, we’re on our way,”

“Stay put, as if we can go anywhere,” you mumbled to yourself, tearing the earpiece from your ear and pocketing it, ears still ringing slightly from the blast. “Bob, you okay?”

Your eyes stayed trained on the debris before you even as you asked the question. After a moment of no response you glanced to the side at one of the only walls that wasn’t destroyed, freezing in place at the sight of a black tendril like shadow crawling across the wall.

“I made a mistake…it’s my fault…”

Turning fully, it felt like ice had suddenly run through your veins at the sight before you.

Bob was on his knees on the ground, eyes trained on the floor, but he was barely Bob anymore. Half of his face, of the face of the beautiful, broken boy you’d fallen so irrevocably in love with over the last few months was still visible. The rest of him was bathed in shadows, tendrils of it seeping out through the floor and into the walls, as the Void slowly took him over.

“Bob…” your voice was low, cautious, as you took a single hesitant step back.

He looked up at you at he sound of your voice. One single blue eye remained, tears welling in it and streaming down his face, in contrast to the shadow and pinpoint dot that covered the other half of his face. He spoke like himself, but almost like there were two of him, a low and gruff second voice of his layered over it.

“It’s my fault. It shouldn’t have happened I- I made a mistake. I could’ve hurt you, I could’ve got you killed,” his voice broke for a second, a sob almost seeping out of him as the shadows took more of what was left of him away. “I’m useless. All I do is make mistakes, all I do is make everything worse.You shouldn’t have brought me, I wasn’t ready. I- I can’t hurt you. I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”

“You protected me,” you tried to explain to him, voice soft as you crouched down, bringing yourself down to his level as you held out your hands toward him. “You saved me. You didn’t make a mistake, Bob, neither of us knew he had a bomb. You did everything you could. Please just…just listen. Just come back to me.”

He stared at you, one blue eyes and one pinpoint eye, but your words seemed to go in one ear and out the other. The shadows still crept in.

“I’m better off dead. If I’m dead I…I can’t hurt you. I won’t hurt you,”

The shadows crept in again, that blue eye full of tears barely left to look at you, as the Void was seconds from swallowing him whole once again. 

Panic filled you in that instance, at the thought of losing him, and you lunged forward. Your knees dropping to the ground in front of him as you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck as you cried, letting the shadows consume you as well.

“Don’t leave me…please don’t leave me,”

It could’ve been minutes, it felt like hours, but in reality it had only been seconds before your eyes opened once more. There were arms wrapped around your waist as your brain caught up with you that you were still with Bob. You flung back, prying your head from the crook of his neck as you pulled back to look at him, just as he looked back at you with a similar look of confusion.

One hand came up to cup his cheek, overwhelmed to simply see his face unmarked by shadows. His eyes trailed over your face before they flickered around the room, face contorting in confusion.

“This…this isn’t one of my shame rooms,”

You followed his gaze, breath catching in your throat automatically as you took in the room. The grand pillars in front of the staircase, the white and black tiled floor beneath your feet, the dim lighting you knew all too well.

The Red Room.

“No…it’s one of mine,”

Bob’s hand around your waist tightened at the sound of heels against the floor behind you. His hand never left you, and your’s never left him as you both turned to face the scene before you.

You were so young, only 9. You stood to the side of the room, still in your ballet flats and hair slicked back impeccably. You recognized the woman in heels, of course you did she’d been your instructor since you were barely old enough to be molded into one of their assassins. She came to a stop before you, glaring down at you. God, you were just a child.

“You were given simple instructions,” her shrill voice cut through the air as you tightened your hold around Bob at the sound. “A simple task. You have been a perfect student…only to fail now.”

“I’m sorry, mistress,”

“There are no apologies here,” her voice cut in again. “Only consequences.”

Two burly men entered the room, holding the arms of a body not much bigger than your own at the time. They tore the sack upon the child’s head off, revealing her face: Polina. You’d grown up together, progressed through every challenge together. Besides Yelena…she’d been the closest thing to a best friend you could have in a place like this.

Bob’s own hands on your waist tightened as the mistress pulled out a revolver from the waistband of her skirt, loading a single bullet into the chamber. Her gaze flickered back to your young 9-year-old self, glare harsher than it was before as she saw your eyes were closed. “Open your eyes, and accept your consequence.”

A single tear made its way down your cheek as this young version of you did as she was asked, holding back her own tears as she looked into the eyes of your friend, just as the mistress’s bullet pierced her skull.

“What…what happened?”

“Simple…I made a mistake,” was the only response you could muster back to Bob. You pulled your gaze from the bloody scene before you, turning back to the man you loved as he watched you. Shaky hands cupped his cheeks, thumbs gliding over his skin as you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Bob…we all have regrets. We all wish we could’ve done things differently. We all make mistakes, whether we want to or not, but it just means we’re human. We are not the sum of all of our mistakes, but what we choose to do differently because of them.”

Bob leaned into your soft touch, his eyes never leaving yours. He shook his head, choking on his own words as he tried to find the words to say.

“All I’ve done is cause you pain…cause everyone pain, because I keep- I keep making mistakes. I don’t know how to fix it,”

You thought about the next thing to say, what you could possibly say to get through to him, but words no longer seemed to do the trick. Instead, your hands held tight to his face as you surged forward, molding your lips to his own.

In a single kiss, you tried to convey every single thing that you needed him to feel. The way that you had cared about him from the moment you’d laid eyes on him, that one single look into his blue eyes had forever held him a place in your heart before you even realized he was the one occupying it. That in your eyes, he could do no wrong, that there was no mistake he could make that would make you love him any less. That you would walk through fire, cross any ocean, or throw yourself into the void of his own mind if that’s what it took to bring him back to you. The press of your lips against his own, the hesitant reciprocation back from him as he tried to navigate this new territory, his hands gripped onto your waist in hopes to ground himself in the moment, you tried desperately to ensure that he knew everything you needed him to know in that moment.

You pulled away, eyes closed as you felt him lean back into you, chasing after the feeling of your lips on his. Your nose brushed against his, hand moving from his cheek to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair.

“Just stay with me. That’s all I need…just stay with me,”

When you finally opened your eyes, you were back in the debris-covered room of the destroyed compound, still kneeling on the floor. You could hear the sound of your friends from beyond the debris, calling out for you as they tried to move the debris before them to get to you both.

All that mattered was the man still wrapped in your arms, shadows faded away as if they’d never appeared to begin with, leaving behind those beautiful blue eyes that shone brightly with one thing only: love.

“Always,”

[inseobts]

Love is a Disease?!

luffy x fem!reader

luffy keeps dreaming about you and ask chopper to cure him...

words count: 2.7k

tags: fluffy, sfw, soft, humour

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

Luffy jolts awake, staring at the wooden ceiling of the Sunny’s sleeping quarters. His heart is pounding, his face is warm, and his lips are still curled into a goofy grin.

It happened again.

Another dream about you.

This time, you were sitting beside him on the deck, your laughter ringing in his ears. You looked happy, so happy that he could feel it deep in his chest, like sunlight spreading through his whole body. And then, right before he woke up, you had leaned in just a little too close, your breath tickling his cheek.

Luffy groans, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face into his pillow “What the hell is this?” he mutters.

It’s been happening for days. No, weeks. Every single time he sleeps, you’re there. Sometimes you’re just talking with him, sometimes you’re laughing, sometimes you’re standing too close and making him feel… weird. A good kind of weird, but also a confusing one.

He sits up abruptly, gripping his hat “This ain’t normal” he decides.

Something must be wrong with him.

Luffy storms into Chopper’s office, his arms swinging wildly “Chopper! Fix me!”

The little reindeer jumps, nearly knocking over a stack of medical books “What?! What happened? Are you sick?!”

“I think so!” Luffy exclaims, flopping onto the examination table like a dying man.

Chopper gasps, immediately switching into doctor mode “Where does it hurt? Do you feel dizzy? Are you gonna die?!” He starts pressing his hooves against Luffy’s forehead, checking for a fever.

Luffy grumbles “It’s not like that… It’s weirder.”

Chopper frowns “What do you mean ‘weirder’?”

Luffy hesitates. He doesn’t really want to explain it, saying it out loud just makes it sound dumb.

Chopper crosses his tiny arms “Luffy, I can’t treat you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!”

Luffy groans, throwing his arms over his face “Fine! It’s my dreams!”

Chopper blinks “Your dreams?”

“Yeah!” Luffy groans again, louder this time, like he’s in pain “Every time I sleep, I dream about Y/N!”

Chopper tilts his head “…And?”

Luffy lifts his arms just enough to peek at Chopper “What do you mean ‘and’?! That’s gotta be some kind of sickness, right?!”

Chopper strokes his chin, thinking hard “Hmmm… are they scary dreams?”

“No.”

“Are they nightmares?”

“No! They’re nice!”

Chopper blinks again “…Then what’s the problem?”

Luffy sits up, frustrated “The problem is that I keep dreaming about her! Every single time I close my eyes!” He grabs Chopper’s shoulders and shakes him “Chopper, what if I caught a disease that makes me think about her all the time?!”

Chopper wiggles out of Luffy’s grasp, landing on the floor with a small thud “I’ve never heard of that before…” He rushes over to his bookshelves and starts flipping through pages. Luffy watches him, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently.

After a few minutes, Chopper sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “There’s nothing here about dreaming about someone too much.”

Luffy groans, tired “Then what do I do?!”

Chopper scratches his head “Uhh… maybe you should avoid y/n for a while? Just in case...”

Luffy gasps “In case of what? What?! That’s not a cure!”

Chopper huffs “Well, I don’t know what else to do! But if seeing her all the time in your dreams is making you feel weird, maybe staying away will help! If you don't see her maybe you won't dream abour her...”

Luffy pouts “That sounds stupid.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Luffy doesn’t.

So he groans again, dramatically flopping back onto the table “Fine… I’ll try.”

That night, as he stares at the ceiling of his hammock, he tells himself that avoiding you will be easy.

Spoiler: It won’t be.

The next morning, Luffy’s grand plan begins.

Step one: Avoid y/n.

Simple, right? He just has to stay out of your way. No sitting next to you at meals, no talking to you, and definitely no falling asleep near you. Easy...

Or so he thinks.

“Luffy! Come help me carry these crates!” your voice calls from the deck.

His whole body freezes. You’re standing there, waving him over with a bright smile. Normally, he’d rush to help, no hesitation. But today? Today, he’s a man with a mission.

“Uh… I can’t!” he blurts out, spinning on his heel.

You blink “What? Why not?”

Luffy panics. He didn’t think this far ahead. He blurts out the first excuse that pops into his head.

“Because… um… I forgot how to carry things!”

Silence.

You stare at him, eyebrows raised “…You forgot... how to carry things?...”

“Yup!” He gives you a thumbs-up and then bolts in the opposite direction before you can question him further.

You watch him go, utterly confused “What the hell was that?”

Avoiding you turns out to be way harder than Luffy thought. You’re everywhere. Laughing with Nami, training with Zoro, helping Sanji in the kitchen. No matter where he goes, there’s a chance of running into you.

And Chopper, being the loyal doctor he is, decides to follow his advice too.

Which means he’s avoiding you too.

And both of them? They are horrible at it.

Every time you walk into a room, Luffy suddenly has “something important to do” and dashes off like his life depends on it. If you try to talk to Chopper, he lets out a nervous squeak and scurries away like a scared animal.

After a few days of this, you’ve had enough.

“Usopp” you huff, plopping down beside him “Something weird is going on with Luffy and Chopper.”

Usopp looks up from the gadget he’s working on “Weird how?”

“They keep avoiding me” You frown, crossing your arms “Luffy runs away every time I talk to him, and Chopper acts like I have the plague. Did I do something?”

Usopp snorts “Nah, if you did something, Luffy would just spill it. He’s a terrible liar.”

“That’s what makes it weird!” you groan “He totally avoids talking to me. He’s never acted like this before. Same goes for Chopper...”

Then you see Chopper, Luffy and Nami going out the kitchen and you norrow your eyes pointing them to Usopp "Look, they are there chatting normally. Now call them over here"

Usopp looks at you confused but interested, "HEY LUFFY, CHOPPER, I NEED YOU OVER HERE!! LOOK AT THIS" he yells showing them the thing he was working on until now.

The two look at him and their faces turn so excited to know about Usopp's new invention. This until they see you next to Usopp, then they both look scared...

"Oh sorry, I forgot I had something very important to do!!" Luffy says with a fake smile before running away.

Chopper looks at him and starts running behind him "LUFFY WAIT FOR ME!!"

In all this Nami shrugs in confusion and walks away.

Usopp turns back to you and taps his chin “Hmm… They’re hiding totally something, but what could it be?”

Your eyes narrow “We need to find out before I get crazy”

And just like that, a plan is born.

Later that day, Usopp corners Chopper in the infirmary.

“Oi, Chopper” he says casually, leaning against the wall. “What’s up with you and Luffy?”

Chopper nearly jumps out of his fur “W-What do you mean? Nothing’s up! Nothing at all!”

Usopp smirks. Terrible liar.

“Oh, really?” he presses “Because y/n thinks you guys are acting weird. And I agree.”

Chopper sweats “I-It’s not weird! We’re just… uh… busy!”

“Busy avoiding y/n?”

The poor reindeer lets out a strangled noise “N-No! We’re just—!”

He stops himself too late.

Usopp grins like a predator catching its prey “Ah-ha! So you are avoiding her.”

Chopper claps his hooves over his mouth “I-I didn’t say that!”

“But you did.” Usopp leans in “And now I gotta know why.”

Chopper squirms “I… I promised Luffy I wouldn’t say…”

“Ohh, so it’s Luffy’s problem?” Usopp’s grin gets wider “Now I really need to know.”

Chopper shakes his head rapidly “No! I-I can’t tell you! A doctor-patient relationship is built on trust!”

Usopp sighs dramatically “That’s too bad. Guess I’ll just tell y/n that you both hate her now.”

“WHAT?! No, we don’t hate her!” Chopper wails.

“Then why are you acting like she’s a ghost haunting the ship?”

Chopper hesitates. His little hooves tremble “I-It’s because… because…”

“…Because what?”

Chopper takes a deep breath. Then, in a panicked rush, he blurts—

“Luffy keeps dreaming about Y/N and thinks it’s a disease!”

Silence.

Usopp blinks “Wait. What?”

Chopper slaps his hooves over his mouth again.

“I SAID NOTHING!”

But it’s too late. Usopp already looks like he’s won the biggest jackpot in the world.

“Oh...” Usopp grins “Ohhhhhh, this is golden.”

Chopper gulps “P-Please don’t tell Luffy I told you—”

“Don’t worry,” Usopp says, slinging an arm around Chopper “I won’t tell him.”

Chopper sighs in relief.

“I’ll just fix the problem instead.”

And that’s way worse.

Usopp wastes no time.

He finds you on the deck, casually leaning against the railing, staring at the ocean with a frustrated pout. Clearly, you’re still confused about Luffy’s behavior.

“Y/N!” Usopp calls, throwing an arm around your shoulder like he’s about to tell you the best gossip of the century “Guess what?”

You raise an eyebrow “What?”

He smirks “Luffy’s been acting weird because of you.”

Your eyes widen “Because of me?”

“Yup.” Usopp leans in dramatically “Turns out, our beloved captain has been having dreams about you. Every time he sleeps.”

You blink “What kind of dreams?”

Usopp wiggles his eyebrows “You tell me.”

You roll your eyes “If this is another one of your dumb stories—”

“It’s not a story!” Usopp says, holding up his hands “Chopper accidentally spilled everything to me. Luffy came to him all panicked, thinking he had some weird ‘dream disease�� just because he keeps dreaming about you.”

You stare at him for a moment, processing. Then, realization hits.

“…Wait.” Your heart skips a beat “You mean—?”

“Yes bestie,” Usopp confirms, nodding smugly “Our dear, dumb captain is in love.”

Your brain short-circuits.

Luffy? In love with you?

You suddenly recall every weird interaction over the past few days. The way he’s been avoiding you, the way he stumbled over his words, the way he ran away from you yesterday. It all makes sense now.

You bite your lip, trying to contain the sudden warmth rushing to your face “So what do we do about it?”

Usopp grins mischievously “Oh, I have a plan already. Thank god I’m your best friend”

Later that evening, Luffy is minding his own business, stuffing his face at the dinner table, when Usopp slides into the seat beside him.

“Oi, Luffy,” he says casually, resting his chin on his hand “You free after dinner?”

Luffy, mouth full of food, nods “Mhm. Why?”

Usopp grins “No reason. Just wanna show you something.”

Luffy shrugs, too busy enjoying Sanji’s cooking to question it.

Big mistake.

Because the second he follows Usopp outside, he realizes something is off.

“Hey, where are we going?” Luffy asks, tilting his head.

“Just trust me,” Usopp says, leading him toward the front of the ship “It’s something cool.”

Luffy doesn’t think much of it—until he turns the corner and sees you standing there, arms crossed, waiting for him.

His entire body freezes.

Usopp immediately bolts in the opposite direction.

“W-Wait—!” Luffy starts to call after him, but the sniper is already gone.

The trap has been set.

And now, he’s alone with you.

Luffy swallows hard. He should run. He should stick to his original plan of avoiding you. But his legs refuse to move.

You step closer, eyeing him suspiciously “Luffy.”

He forces a grin “H-Hey, y/n!”

“Are you avoiding me?” you ask, cutting straight to the point.

His grin falters “W-What? No! Of course not! Why would I—?”

You raise an eyebrow “Usopp told me everything.”

Luffy panics.

“W-What? Pfft! No, he didn’t! He doesn’t even know anything!” Luffy waves his arms dramatically, laughing nervously “That Usopp, always making up stories! Haha! I don’t even dream! What even is a dream? I don’t—”

“Luffy.”

He shuts up instantly.

You sigh “You know you suck at lying, just tell me the truth.”

Luffy rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze “I, uh…”

You wait.

Luffy shifts uncomfortably. His heart is pounding, and he’s sweating bullets. Lying is so hard.

“…Okay, fine,” he finally mutters “I’ve been dreaming about you.”

You blink, surprised at his sudden honesty “…Every time you sleep?”

He nods.

You step closer “And it made you think something was wrong with you?”

Another nod.

You stare at him for a moment before breaking into a soft laugh. “Luffy… that’s not a disease.”

He pouts “It’s not?”

You shake your head, smiling “No, dumbass. It just means you like me.”

Luffy blinks “Like… like like?”

You roll your eyes “Yes, Luffy. Like like.”

For a moment, he just stands there, staring at you. Processing.

Then, realization hits him like a Sea King.

“…OHHH.”

You burst out laughing.

Luffy stares at you, completely dumbfounded “Wait, wait, wait—so I’m not sick?”

“Nope.”

“I’m just—” He points at himself “—in love”

You nod.

Luffy blinks. Then, suddenly, he grins.

“Huh. That’s kinda cool.”

You snort “That’s all you have to say?”

He tilts his head “Well, yeah. I mean… I like you. And you’re right here. So that’s good, right?”

Your cheeks warm “Yeah,” you admit softly “That’s good.”

Luffy beams. Then, without warning, he grabs your hand.

“Then let’s go tell the others!” he says cheerfully, already dragging you toward the dining area.

“Wait—what?”

“I gotta tell Chopper I’m not dying!”

You groan, but you can’t help smiling as Luffy excitedly pulls you along, already shouting for the crew.

Usopp, watching from a distance, smirks.

“Mission accomplished.”

Luffy bursts into the dining area with you in tow, grinning like he just found the biggest treasure in the world.

“Oi, everyone! Guess what? I’m not dying!”

The entire crew freezes.

Zoro, who was mid-sip of his sake, lowers his cup “Huh?”

Sanji looks up from the stove, cigarette dangling from his lips “I didn’t even know you thought you were dying.”

Robin chuckles, setting down her book “I assume this has something to do with y/n?”

Chopper, who had been sitting on the table, gasps in relief “You aren’t sick?! Oh, thank goodness! I was so worried—I thought maybe I misdiagnosed a new kind of illness!”

Luffy laughs, slapping a hand on Chopper’s hat “Nope! Turns out, I just like y/n!”

Silence.

Then—

“FINALLY!”

Usopp throws his hands in the air “I swear, if I had to watch you two dance around each other for another week, I was gonna lose my mind.”

Nami sighs, shaking her head “So that’s what all the weird behavior was about.” She smirks at you. “And? How do you feel about all this?”

You clear your throat, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. Your hand is still in Luffy’s, warm and firm, like he has no intention of letting go.

“I, um… I like him too, I've been obvious about it, he's the only one who was oblivous, am I wrong?” you admit.

The crew erupts.

Sanji dramatically clutches his chest “Nooooo! My sweet Y/N has been stolen by him?! Life is so cruel!”

Zoro snorts “Tch. Took you long enough, rubber idiot.”

Franky wipes a fake tear “Young love is so super!”

Brook laughs “Ah, my heart is about to explode by all this cuteness—oh wait, I don’t have a heart! Yohohoho!”

Luffy grins even wider, turning to Chopper “See? I told you it was something weird!”

Chopper crosses his tiny arms “You literally thought you had a disease.”

“Yeah! And now I don’t!” Luffy lifts your hand triumphantly “Now me and Y/N are together, so it’s all good!”

Your face heats up “I don’t remember agreeing to that part.”

Luffy tilts his head “Huh? But you like me, right?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Then we’re together!” he declares proudly, as if that’s how relationships work.

The crew laughs, and you groan, hiding your face in your free hand “I should’ve known dating Luffy would be exactly like this.”

Luffy just beams, completely unbothered “Dating sounds fun! Let’s do that!”

And honestly? Looking at his bright, happy face, you can’t even be mad.

[deeplyshalllow]

Classic Fiyeraba fic recommendations

So, with the new movie coming out, I've seen a lot of requests here for people to write Fiyeraba particularly happy Shiz era stuff, and like guys, guys, I did not spend my formative teen years in the Wicked fanfiction.net section for people to act like the amazing fics there don't even exist.

So here is my list of the fics and authors so great that I remember it over a decade later

Obviously, given we have never had a situation before where people know act 1 but not act 2, there will be spoilers and act 2 stuff in a bunch of these, but please check them out.

(a few of the authors I know are still around tumblr I've tagged, but feel free to tell me if you want me to take it off).

Authors in no particular order:

Tiggy the Hopeless Romantic - Honestly just read anything this woman wrote, I think if anyone said Fiyeraba fanfic this would be the first name I think of - bonus that a lot of the stuff is easily digestible fluffy oneshots

Merina Thropp @merinathropp on Tumblr - Writes beautifully, I remember getting very excited when she uploaded new fic. I particularly remember her Fiyero's Shiz era twitter fic and her extended As Long As You're Mine fic

HC247 @a-partofthenarrative on Tumblr - Writes such lovely fluff and I think double digits on alaym fics! Particularly remember her Once Upon a Kiss series and Masquerade. She mostly writes POTO stuff now but I see occasionally get an alert in my inbox from her.

alinaandalion - another fantastic Fiyeraba writer (god there are so many) I particularly remember her for her A Drop in the Bucket series, which are a lovely series of Fiyeraba oneshots.

CrazyBeagle - one of the people on the Wicked section who has made the transition to real life friend. But I knew her for her fics before we became friends. To Feel is post musical fic which is a lovely realistic continuation of Fiyeraba's journey. Unlimited is a modern retelling of Wicked which I really enjoy though I have been told multiple times it will never be updated no matter how much I threaten.

Scandalacious Intentions @scandalaciousintentions on Tumblr - Candy is the other Wicked friend who has become an irl friend (and I am most certainly the only person who still calls her Candy). She is much better known for her Tonks/Lupin stuff, but I always loved what she wrote for Wicked. Witchy Woman was her first Wicked fic I still very much enjoy it.

Girlscout4ever wrote ever so beautifully. Cheap Rented Room is such a fantastic expanded ALAYM.

ElphabaROCKS - wrote a lot of very good Fiyeraba fluff

Vinkanwildflowerqueen @vinkunwildflowerqueen on Tumblr - I imagine a lot of you know her already as she is still writing! She writes a lot of very good Fiyeraba au fics

Fermantoso - one of the funniest writers in the section! Chasing Elphie is the one I remember best, au but funny and sweet.

Danderson - slightly more bookverse than a lot of the other writers here but still great fics!

Kaylle - There are Nights, is always the one people (including me) remember as it's one of the most beautiful pieces of fanfiction on the Wicked section, but all of her work is lovely.

Lost Ozian - Well known for her humour, The Fiyero User Manual springs immediately to mind, my favourite is actually her serious au fic Different

Me - debated whether to add this, but I was also part of the section back in the day, and I know people enjoyed my fics too, though God knows I've improve my writing in the last decade and a half - in terms of Fiyeraba my strongest were probably A Moment and Living. Perfect Together is unquestionably the best fic I wrote for Wicked, although it's more Flinda.

Individual Fics:

Like a Swan on a Lake - this fic was actually well after my time but I happened to read it and I love love love it! AU of Fiyero if both girls defied gravity together and it does such a good job of showing his intelligence

Broccoli - I remember this one being very sweet Shiz era Fiyeraba

According to Plan - funny fic, fun twist ending

Sincerely, an annoyed Shiz student - not strickly Fiyeraba but you should read it. It is a very fun parody.

It's a long way to fall - This was actually the fic I created a fanfic account for, because I hadn't realised you could anonymous review! A fun arranged marriage AU

Please, please add to this list if you have other recs, mine are about 10 years out of date. Also apologies if I've missed any out as there's so many good ones and it is 2am.

[firewasabeast]

Tags: MCD (based off of spoilers), hurt/comfort. Just some Tommy comforting Evan in the direct aftermath of losing Bobby.

They didn't have time to talk about what they were, or what they wanted to be. There was too much going on, danger all around them, federal agents and military personnel willing to shoot them out of the sky.

There was a moment, briefly, where Buck cleared his throat and said, "I know now's not the time, but I- I wasn't saying I didn't have feelings for, um, for you... Just thought you should know that." Tommy had nodded, but didn't have time to respond. He was a little busy evading the law.

And then Bobby. Bobby didn't make it out of the building with everyone else. Bobby came out later, in a body bag, with Buck still screaming and sobbing and begging for it to be a dream.

Please don't be real!

Please don't be real!

They were there for hours, government officials each wanting a turn to speak with them-- yell at them. Buck's screams died down, his voice shot.

Finally, someone had mercy. Saw the vacant stare in Buck's eyes and told them to go home, get some rest, they'd set up a meeting sometime in the next couple of weeks.

Tommy ordered an Uber. He buckled Buck in once they'd gotten situated in the back seat. He didn't keep his eyes off of Buck for more than a few seconds the entire drive. When he noticed his hands shaking, fingers picking at the skin around his nails, Tommy reached over and intertwined their hands.

Buck didn't say anything. Tommy wasn't even sure he noticed. But the shaking died down, and the picking stopped. They made it to Buck's place without speaking a word.

Tommy guided Buck to the door. He hoped the spare key that Eddie kept under a fake rock was still there. He left Buck at the door long enough to look for it, sighing in relief when he found it.

He led them inside and closed the door behind him.

Buck stood, unmoving, in the living room.

Carefully, Tommy placed a hand at the small of his back, "Evan?"

No response.

"Baby?" The pet name came out before he could stop himself.

Buck blinked. "Huh?" he breathed out, showing the first signs of being alert since Bobby was taken away.

"You want something to eat or drink?" Tommy asked. "I know it's been a while."

Buck shook his head. "N- No. I... no."

"Okay. You want to sit on the couch? Or go lay down?"

"I, um, I-" Buck brought a hand to his chest. "I don't-"

"Okay, okay," Tommy soothed, hand rubbing up and down his back. "Whatever you need, Evan. Whatever you need."

"I don't, um, I haven't-" he paused, glancing down at his clothes. "I'm dirty. I- I need to, um, I... shower, I think."

Tommy nodded. "Okay. Let's go to the bathroom, I'll get the water started."

When they got into the bathroom, Tommy turned on the shower before returning his attention to Buck, who was simply standing there, making no effort to get undressed.

"Um, Evan, I'm gonna go get you some clean clothes, okay? I'll just lay them on the counter, then I'll wait for you to get done."

He went to leave, but as he walked by, Buck grabbed onto his wrist. Tommy froze.

"Evan?"

"Tommy."

One word, that was it, but it told Tommy everything he needed to know. "You want me to stay?"

A nod.

So Tommy stayed. He helped Buck out of his clothes, then stripped himself down so he could help him in the shower. Once they were in, he got behind Buck and grabbed the shampoo. He washed Buck's hair gently, rinsing all the dirt and sweat out from the day. He moved onto his body after that, making sure he was all clean.

He wiped over Buck's face last, and as he stared into Buck's eyes he wished more than anything that he could hug and kiss the pain away.

Instead, he made sure to wipe the dirt out of his eyebrows and off his eyelids. He cleaned around his ears, and over his nose. Brushed over his chapped lips, and chin. Then did a final scrub over his neck.

"All done," he said softly, turning off the water. He stepped out first, quickly grabbing a towel to wrap around himself before getting another one for Buck. He helped Buck out of the tub, drying him off before leading him to the bedroom.

He noticed Buck shiver as he walked to the closet, so he chose a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie for him to wear. But first, he pulled on a t-shirt and an extra pair of sweats, knowing Buck wouldn't mind if he borrowed from him for now.

Buck held onto Tommy's shoulder as he stepped into the pants, then Tommy guided them up his legs until they rested on his hips.

It wasn't until Tommy pulled the hoodie over his head that Buck spoke again.

"I don't, um, I don't remember getting home."

"We took an Uber," Tommy reminded him, pulling his arm through the first sleeve.

"I- My Jeep-"

"We can pick it up tomorrow," Tommy replied, getting his hoodie the rest of the way on, "or the next day. Whenever."

Buck stared at Tommy, wide and teary-eyed. His lip trembled. "I'm su- supposed to be on shift still."

"The 118 was taken offline for the rest of today." Tommy brought his hands up to Buck's face, wiping away a couple stray tears as they fell down his cheeks. "You finished your shift, Evan."

"Oh." He gaze shifted until he was vacantly staring at the wall just past Tommy's head.

"Evan, why don't you lie down for a little bit," Tommy suggested, already taking his hand and walking him to the bed. He slung the covers back, then tucked them around him once Buck laid down. "I'm gonna get you some water, okay?"

"'Kay."

Only two minutes had passed when Tommy came back into the room, and Buck was turned on his side, staring at nothing, with tears dripping down his eyes and over his nose.

"Can you sit up for a second?" Tommy asked, keeping his tone low. "I brought you some ibuprofen too."

Buck pulled himself up and took the pills without argument, drinking down half the glass of water with them. He placed the cup on the nightstand and, just as Tommy was about to ask if he'd like for him to go, Buck reached over and tossed back the covers on the other side of the bed.

A silent invitation.

Tommy walked around the bed and climbed in. Buck didn't hesitate to meet him in the center. He gripped onto Tommy's shirt and rested his head on Tommy's chest. "Please, just... just stay, Tommy," he whimpered, his voice breaking. He sniffed, and Tommy could feel tears already soaking through his shirt. "I know I... but, I- I can't lose you too, not- not again. Not... please, not now. I-"

Tommy wrapped Buck up in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm here, Evan," he assured him. "I'm not going anywhere."

[foolinafable]

still alive

SYNOPSIS: You thought watching Viktor slowly dying was the hardest thing you could ever face, and then you had to see him walk out that door. PAIRING: Viktor x reader WORDCOUNT: 338 TAGS: Angst, Drabble NOTES: Arcane season 2 spoilers, feeling sad so I wrote this

“Does it make me a bad person?” you ask Jayce, voice barely a whisper eyes locking with his amber ones quickly looking away when a nauseous feeling erupts from the mear similarity of them 

“To wish that you had listened to him and destroyed the hexcore? Because then I wouldn't be mourning the loss of a man who's still alive but now wants nothing to do with me- with us,” you continue sniffling as you try to hold back the unshed tears, your face already wet enough.

It’s silent for a few moments, the man dwelling on your words in stoic silence, something so unlike him that it sets your nerves alive  

“It would be easier to grieve him if he were dead, I think, at least then he still loved me, it’s, harder to know he's out there somewhere while I'm drowning in the sorrow of what could've been,” you begin to ramble, hoping to elicit anything from Jayce other than the silence Viktor left the two of you with 

“I knew that one day he would leave, he told me himself he didn't have long left. But never in my wildest of fantasies would I have believed that it be by him walking out that door, not a flicker of care on his face as he broke all his promises,” You bite your lip to hold back a sob, visibly shaking as you admit to the man  

“I don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself.”

You feel a squeeze on your hand, small and gentle enough that you could’ve missed it if you weren’t begging for any form of comfort 

“Neither do I,” Jayce admitted a sad smile on his face, trying to be brave for the two of you, pulling your head towards his uninjured side as you began to sob

You never knew heartbreak could be so daunting, world-changing.

But one thing you did know was that not even the gods above would be able to help Viktor if you saw him again.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 12!

apologies for the delay, everyone! here's a slightly longer list than usual to make up for it <3

while you're here, if you could check out this ask and this one to see if you can help find the requested fics, that would be lovely <3

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all of my life, it's been all for you | staticsilencee | 10.7k | T

Occasionally, people’s names wouldn’t match up. It wasn’t common, and the only cases Buck had ever personally heard of had involved literal criminals, but it did happen. The other option– well. Either Buck was secretly a killer without knowing about it, or Eddie had taken one look at him and decided he wanted nothing to do with him. i love a good soulmate fic, and this is a great soulmate fic, so imagine how happy i was reading this!! i also really loved the bobby buck dynamic <3

city lights, without you (they don’t even shine like they used to) | farfromthstars/@doeeyeseddie | 1.5k | T

buck is not in love with eddie. definitely not. if there's one thing last week's episode is bringing us, it's delightful episode codas like this one <3 loved buck's narration here!!

don’t think about it too much, too much, too much, too much | fruitsdoesnotknow/@fruitsdontknow | 6.1k | M

Eddie and Chris finally come back to Los Angeles. Buck has some realizations, and confessions, to make. Good thing Eddie's got some of his own to share, too. i love how buck keeps thinking about home in this one and jude seems like the most wonderful grandma <3 so good!!

even with the lights off | lilacbarnes | 6.2k | E

Buck tries to make friends, ends up sleeping with them, and may or may not see Eddie each time he does it. such a gorgeous fic!! i love how this captures buck so much <3

goodbye to what you thought you'd be | coldbam/@coldbam | 7.5k | T

Buck confesses. It gives Eddie a lot to think about. i love this fic's eddie so much <3 and joe!! this really is the week of wonderful ocs in buddie fic and i'm so here for it

if you don't leave your mark on me, i'll take it | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 2.5k | T

Five times Buck gets a breakup tattoo and one time he doesn’t. the tattoos!! i love the tattoos!! they 100% feel like tattoos buck would get and i love that so much <3

i'll take your chaos and your crooked in a heartbeat | heartbeatdiaz/@lonelychicago | 6.2k | T

Eddie leaves a very important box behind and Buck spirals. my this is so sweet and kind of heartbreaking and also funny and so basically it's everything all at once and i love that so much <3

(it's probably not surprising) that you're burning through the days | atlasblue85/@atlasblue85 | 12.9k | T

Buck takes a breath like he’s steeling himself, and sets his beer down on the coffee table. “What if– Eddie, what if I get myself stuck in here with you?” TIME LOOP FIC. oh my god i love a time loop fic. i love eddie and chim and i love buck and i love everything <3

kind eyes, it's all good | cavevulpis/@cavevulpis | 6.3k | GA

Buck has never been lucky in love. He has enough break-ups under his belt to prove it. this is so stunningly written!! i especially adored the taylor section, i think this might just be my favourite taylor in fic ever... so so good!!

my best friend (my best guess) | idiotsinkdaisies/@idiotsinkdaisies | 1.5k | T

Eddie gets a series of text messages from Tommy, despite not hearing from him for the last few months. He ignores most of them, until Tommy implies he could have made things weird for Buck and Eddie. oh this has some really stunning romantic lines that i won't quote bc spoilers but i am quoting them in my mind. so good!!

ours | Tizniz/@tizniz | 1.4k | GA

“Home sweet home.” Buck mumbles, stumbling as he tries to kick his shoes off. Eddie doesn’t correct him, tell him that it’s not his yet, because that’d be a lie. This place has been Buck’s home for nearly as long as it’s been Eddie’s. this is the loveliest fic <3 one of the tags is the diaz house is buck's home and i love that so so much. it's so true <3

perfectly made | serenelystrange/@serenelystrange | 6.8k | E

In which Eddie needs to unsubscribe to a gay porn site, and the only way to do so is to make a phone call. Buck answers that call. this is such a fun au!! it's so cute and i loved the silly porno names hehe

rage is a quiet thing | oceanofchaos/@islandoforder | 33.3k | GA

Philip Buckley has a heart attack, and Buck, Eddie, and Chris all fly to Hershey. What else are best friends for? this is so so good!! i love how this captures buck and eddie and chris and their respective relationships so so much. also chimney!! so good <3

said i couldn't stay, but it's different now | hattalove/@hattalove | 14.7k | T

the one with the four weddings (feat. a drunk karen wilson, shania twain, a single cheerio, and some confessions over cubed fruit. this was a reread of of one of my favourite fics ever <3 it's so soft and sweet and there's such lovely pining and also hamsters. literally what more could you possibly need to know!!

shouting under my breath | carpediaz/@sofa-king-lame | 2.3k | T

The one where a guy hits on Buck in a bar and Eddie gets jealous. Turns out, Buck really likes it when Eddie is jealous. same buck, i also like it when eddie is jealous. this is so fun and so good and so very them <3

where i walk alone | kermytheefrog | 19.4k | T

Everyone knows that when you touch someone who's going to be important to you for the first time, you'll leave a mark on them. It's not just romantic love; parents and children, siblings, close friends all share marks too. At least, they do in theory. Maddie's the only person who's ever touched Buck and left anything behind. i've been devouring each chapter of this fic as it was posted and i'm already feeling like it's time for a reread, that's how good this is!! this has lovely buddie but also such fantastic platonic relationships, i love it so so much <3

you're home (when you're alone) | pairofraggedclaws/@pairofraggedclaws | 5.7k | T

Eddie's feelings in a box, and the people who taught him to put them there. this is so beautifully written!! i especially loved eddie and chris together <3 so good!!

yours & mine | marviless/@marviless | 6.6k | T

after months of sleeping in Eddie’s bed alone, Buck finally gets to share. soft and lovely and so perfect <3 one of my favourite bed sharing fics!!

[awearywritersworld]

i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you

sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist

"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.

"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."

"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."

you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"

"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."

your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."

"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.

"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."

with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.

you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.

as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.

your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).

he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"

"nothing," you huff.

"don't be a brat."

you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."

"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."

he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.

when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.

"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."

"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"

you scoff. "well you've got me there."

a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."

you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.

wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."

you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."

he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.

"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."

"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."

"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."

"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."

"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."

"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."

you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.

as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.

you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.

the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.

"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.

after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.

"let's sit here for a little while."

he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.

as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.

sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.

"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.

"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.

his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.

when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.

"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.

your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.

truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.

no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.

the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.

so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"

his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"

some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.

"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.

he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.

"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."

and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.

"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."

ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.

"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."

the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."

you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."

then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.

you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.

when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.

you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"

as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."

"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"

"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.

"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."

"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."

before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"

he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."

"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.

gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"

"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."

"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."

gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"

yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.

his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.

having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.

leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"

"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"

"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."

gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.

he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"

yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."

"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."

a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"

megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"

when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.

"ta ta, hooligans!"

you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.

looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.

he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.

"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."

"i'd rather you didn't."

you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."

he hums. "how much did you drink?"

"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."

he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."

"tha's correct, yes."

unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."

you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.

pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.

"tuck me in?" you request.

sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.

he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.

instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."

his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.

but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."

"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."

your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.

love?

what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.

suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:

"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?

were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?

is that what love is?

could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?

does the definition of love lie in those questions?

sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.

he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.

he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.

so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?

gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.

the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged

[yolli-es]

Please, I'm really sorry

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, sadness, rude treatment, mentions of death

I doubt this is in character, so treat it as a silly sketch. Writing text is harder than headcanons..

MY ENGLISH IS BAD AND THERE MAY BE MEANING ERRORS

You adore Jinx; you love and tolerate her. Your acquaintance was unexpected, and your subsequent friendship was spontaneous. You were choking with tears after losing your mother when she found you. This girl saved you so easily, as if it were so easy. Jinx never told you about the past, but when the voices in her head became too loud, you didn't need an explanation. You saw how bad she becomes and what consequences it can bring. Afterwards, you promise yourself to always be there so that you can prevent the irreparable. This was not always successful.

After Silco died, things got really bad. Jinx tried to continue his work, to be strong and collected. But this is Jinx. Your Jinx. And she never was and never will be like this. Maybe that's why she's been so rude to you, taking it out on you because she's under so much stress. Sooner or later it will all end, and she will be able to look at you again without irritation.

You forgive Jinx for everything: the harsh words, the insults, the hits. Because she always apologizes after. And you don't care that it's not sincere at all. You love her; she is the only thing you have.

The day started out quite normally. You and Jinx were sitting in Silko's office, which is still called that way to this day, on the initiative of Jinx herself. It was all quite nice: she decided to share with you many thoughts about the future, which happened quite rarely. But then Sevika came in. And with her came terrible news. Shimmer production had been disrupted again. The enforcers blew up the plant, dealing with the guards there without any particular problems. And she just walked out after saying that. Just one look from Jinx made it clear how bad she was feeling right now,

"It's not your fault, and..." — you're interrupted by a rude "shut up." Jinx, who had been sitting on the table quite relaxed, now clutched her head, her eyes closed, and her breathing quickened. Just a few moments ago she was vulnerable, and now she's rude to you again. "You don't understand me at all," Jinx said in a breaking voice, hiding her face in her knees. It was painful to hear. We have been through a lot together. But she's worse off, and you step over yourself again: "I love you, Jinx. What do you want me to do?". You tell her this so often, so sincerely and naively. Her reaction to your words is always different; you can never guess, and now she again hits you: "I want you to stop being so useless and just help me." Jinx whispered, still struggling with her emotions. She hadn't let herself get angry, panicked, or sad that easily since Silco died. No tears. She kept herself under control. And is that what she thought all along? It's your fault; you're just doing a shitty job. Obviously, sitting here with her is not what she wanted. It looks so painful for you. The girl you love is suffering so much; why don't you just make it easier? That day you stayed, having endured many insults and a couple of blows.

Usually you stayed by Jinx's side, always supporting her and helping her with many tasks. For example, maintaining her authority in the city, keeping an eye out for possible rats nearby, and always saving your love from nervous breakdowns. But now you're by Sevika's side, at a shimmer production plant. You didn't tell Jinx anything; you didn't even think she would ask and worry. You need to act more decisively, as she wanted it. The task was simple: wait until the enforcers come here and destroy them. You were never a good fighter, just a decent shot. Your skills were enough to protect yourself on the streets of Zaun, but they were nothing against well-trained law enforcement officers. That's why you stayed on the sidelines, watching from above and covering Sevika.

You realized how much you screwed up with this shit when you found yourself in the middle of a shootout. Things didn't go according to plan when Sevika was shot, and now you had to save her. Letting the woman lean on you, you ran upstairs. The sounds of gunshots, explosions, and screams confirmed your fears: this plant is finished. Neither the shimmer nor the people were saved. Adrenaline was pumping through you, and you didn't notice anything except the cherished goal.

You reached a safe place and fell. The rest was like a dream. Sevika sat next to you, trying to close the open wound. She tied it with a rag, shouting something about the presence of shimmer nearby. The wound seems to be on your legs, chest, and head. It was painful and cold. Severe weakness. How the hell did enforcers get you? You couldn't think, let alone remember. This woman was shaking you, trying to make you think, but you had already given up. You had lost, and you had screwed up so badly, Jinx would never forgive you. Sevika shouted something, and you didn't really listen; you just couldn't. And then your gaze focused on a blue spot... Jinx? You wanted to look at her one last time. She may be disappointed in you, angry, or simply empty towards you, but all this will not matter as long as she is here. Your eyes closed for just a moment.

" ...orr..."—You can't see, only distantly hear. Such a nice sound; you've heard it before. The noise makes you open your eyes again. A flash of light disorientated you. Straining your eyes, you managed to make out a silhouette in front of you. It was Jinx, and... she was crying. She was in complete disarray, desperately holding your face. She bit her lips every time she wanted to swallow the lump in her throat and continue talking. She was talking to you. What was she saying? Your damn body is so weak. "Hold on, just breathe. Please, I'm really sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you...",-She repeated it over and over while you felt the shimmer being injected into your body. You wanted to calm her down, to say "I love you" back. And all you did was watch silently. Your eyelids were so heavy, and your body suddenly seemed too weightless. You were being yelled at, shaken, and pricked with a shimmer stabbed over and over. And you were too weak to respond to it, closing your eyes one last time.

Jinx sincerely apologizes this time. It's a pity that your mind was too weak to realize this.

it was short, unclear and stupid 🥴 Wrote this in a hurry while I'm taking a break from studying and writing other things.

[runnning-outof-time]

Up Until You | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: In which Tommy Shelby realizes that he might just have someone he wants to live for.

Warnings: smoking, slight season 2 spoilers

Word Count: 3698

A/N: boy does it feel good to post a story again! I hope there won’t be as big a gap between this and my next one … I promise I’m getting these requests written! Anon, I hope this is as angsty as you were hoping….the prompt you sent is bolded. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: I almost forgot! I wanted to give a shoutout to the lovely Mars @toms-cherry-trees for helping me so much in the planning process of this fic…I don’t think it would have gotten finished if it weren’t for you!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged!

(Y/N) sent Ada Shelby a look that asked 'where is he?' the second the latter opened the door. Ada answered with a head nod to the left, which conveyed the answer of 'he's in there'. A glance over the Shelby woman's shoulder confirmed it - Tommy was sitting at the table in the front room. His back was to the door, so he hadn't noticed that she arrived...yet.

She sent Ada an appreciative smile before she quietly walked into the room, hoping that Tommy wouldn't hear her footsteps. He seemed to be too engrossed in his writing for that to happen though. She stood there for a few moments, carefully peering over his shoulder as he finished the sentence he was writing.

He paused then, and it gave (Y/N) the ability to read the sentence he'd just written:

In the event of my own death, I want the following facts to be known...

Reading those words made her mind go blank. "You're actually going through with it?" she asked without thinking.

The sudden sound of someone's voice made Tommy quickly turn in his chair. He was already on edge with the day's events taking up his mind, so this unexpected visitor had caught him completely off guard. It took a few moments for it to register that (Y/N) was standing in front of him. When it did, he cursed under his breath before letting out a huff.

"When'd you get here, eh?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as he placed his hands on his thighs.

"Just now. I couldn't find you at home. The guys hadn't left for the derby though, so I figured you'd be here," she explained her reasoning. "You don't have to go through with this, Tommy," she then circled back, not letting him switch topics.

"I have to," his response cut right to the point. He didn't have time to get into a discussion about it.

"What about the other options you've shared with me? The options that don't include you having to come face to face with this man in order to get the job done," she reminded him of the talks they've had in the past, hoping that doing so would get him to change his mind.

"There's no time for those other options, (Y/N). The derby's today. The plan's been laid out," he wasn't biting.

Silence hung in the air as they stared at each other. (Y/N) was hoping that he'd change his mind. She waited on bated breath, waiting for him to announce that to her. But he stayed silent.

She couldn't wait any longer. "So that's it then?" she asked, incredulousness present in her voice. The fact that he wasn't even trying to entertain a conversation about this was breaking her heart. "You're just going to write your note and practically seal your death with it? And what'll that mean for me?" she was unable to stop herself from getting choked up as she uttered her final question. She didn't want to think about her life without him, but it was staring her dead in the face at the moment.

"The note's just precautionary, love," he attempted to assure her. Her expression didn't change, her brow was now furrowed and it was noticeable that she was biting on her bottom lip; most likely to stop her tears. Tommy finally stood then, coming face to face with her in hopes that his proximity would wash some of her worry away. "I'll be fine," he added in a low voice, blindly searching for her hands so that he could hold them.

"You can't promise that," she responded, her voice coming out as a shaky whisper. It was taking everything she had not to burst out into tears in this moment. She'd always associated his closeness with safety...whenever Tommy was close, (Y/N) knew she could never get hurt. But now his closeness was making her hurt even more.

"It'll be fine," he repeated, squeezing her hands.

"It's really been decided?" she still couldn't accept it.

"It has," he nodded.

(Y/N) sighed at his confirmation. Her gaze dropped to the floor as she pulled her hands from his grasp. She then wrapped her arms tightly around her frame as she turned and took a few steps towards the windows.

"(Y/N)." Her name left Tommy's lips as a breath. He knew he was fighting a losing battle here. "Come on, love. Look at me," he gently coaxed her. She stood still. "It'll be fine," he tried once more to assure her.

That set her off. She whipped around within a second of hearing his statement. There was now a fire burning in her watery eyes. "Do not say those three words again," she snapped at him, "do not continue to try and reassure me with things that you cannot guarantee will happen. You know how dangerous this plan is, Thomas. Please don't try and act like It isn't. You wouldn't be sat here writing a note for someone to find in the event of your death if you didn't think that there was a possibility of it happening," she spoke her mind, letting her emotions go free as all of the pent up worry flowed out.

"(Y/N)," he spoke her name again, in a different tone this time. He didn't need this lecture. Not right now. "This is what needs to be done," he continued in a low voice, staying stoic in hopes that it would alleviate the situation quicker.

But (Y/N) no longer cared about what he did or didn't need at that moment, and if anything, his statement just made her even more upset.

"It doesn't need to be done like this," she insisted, "you don't need to sign your life away for a contract...for a man who doesn't give a single care about the stakes that have been raised here so long as he isn't the one carrying out the deed. Any other person would be trying to find a way to take themselves out of the equation but you've decided to put yourself in the driver's seat."

(Y/N) felt like she was talking in circles. Hell, she probably was, but she was doing so in hopes that something would be set off inside of him. She wanted him to realize that there was still time to think up another plan; one that didn't include him being placed in harm's way.

"What is it that you want from all of this?" he asked her, his brows furrowed together.

"You, Tommy!" she exclaimed, her frustration shining clear through her words. "I want you to fight! I want you to realize that things don't need to play out this way; that you can still put another plan into play!" she paused, taking a deep breath as she swiped at the tears that had escaped her eyes. "I want you to come home when all of this is finished," her voice was level again as she spoke the final sentence. Her eyes were locked onto his, hoping that he'd realize how much this was affecting her.

Their eyes stayed locked and a few moments passed before Tommy looked down at the ground. He exhaled a sigh as he brought his hand up to the back of his neck. "It's already done," he said, his voice void of any tone.

"Then I guess I'm done," the words left (Y/N)'s mouth before she could stop them. She didn't take them back though. She was tired of fighting in a one-sided fight. It was so obvious that Tommy had his mind made up. Nothing was going to change it at this point. But yet she still held onto that sliver of hope. She hoped that her showing up today and speaking her piece would get him to change his mind.

"(Y/N)..." Tommy looked up again as her name fell from his lips, shock now present in his expression.

"I can't be here a moment longer. I can't stand in front of a man who is acting as if he's already dead. I need to leave."

Her words were spoken softly, but Tommy heard them loud and clear. He said nothing as she moved to the archway, expecting her to leave without another word. To his surprise, she turned around just before she was about to exit the room.

"I didn't believe that love existed until you came along, Tommy. But you showed me how wrong I was for thinking that way; for thinking that I'd never experience something like that. And now you've just decided not only your future, but mine as well. I can't stay here and watch it play out. I'm not sure if I'll be home when you return. I just..." (Y/N) stopped speaking as the words got caught in her throat. She let out a shaky breath, tears welling up in her eyes once more.

All words escaped her at that moment, and she shook her head instead, deciding that finishing her declaration would be a lost cause anyway. She couldn't even bear to look at him again, too afraid that she'd actually break down. So instead she turned and made her way to the door of the home, opening it and leaving without looking back.

The sun was now shining down on her. It was an absolutely lovely day in London, but yet she was having one of the worst in her life. She decided to go for a walk, revisiting the streets that still felt like home even though she'd made the move to Birmingham several months ago.

(Y/N) knew Ada Shelby before she knew Tommy. She'd met her when Ada had moved into the next door apartment with her adorable son, Karl. The two women quickly became friends, spending a lot of time together right up until the day Ada had been found and hurt for being a Shelby.

Contact stopped briefly as Ada had moved out of the apartment, but things continued like nothing had even happened when Ada sent (Y/N) a letter that contained her new address. The two frequently spent time together in the front room of the lovely new home, sipping tea and talking about the day's events in front of the fire.

Ada's house was where (Y/N) first met Tommy. Surprise riddled their first encounter. Ada had stepped away to tend to Karl when Tommy came knocking on the door. (Y/N), being the friend that she was, didn't hesitate in opening it. The sight she was greeted with took her breath away. Thankfully Ada had returned from Karl's room, or who knows how long the two would have been standing in the doorway, staring at each other. She even joked about the fact that they couldn't seem to keep their eyes off of each other. Of course it didn't help that Tommy had forgotten what it was he was even there for for the first few minutes of his visit.

That wasn't the last time (Y/N) saw Tommy. The two became very close very quickly. It was like they had known each other forever; like there was this pull present between them that neither could ignore. Things also got serious pretty quickly. So serious that (Y/N) was packing up her things and leaving her London apartment for Small Heath after only six months of knowing Tommy.

Some might think it was crazy; that things were moving much too fast. But (Y/N) had never felt so sure of doing something in her life.

Which made what was happening now hurt so much more. But she needed to keep walking. She'd done the right thing.

Tommy placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it with a match before taking a deep drag from it and exhaling slowly. The sealed letter sat on the table in front of him. He stared at it for a few moments before pressing the thumb and index fingers of his free hand against his eyelids, hoping it would alleviate some of the pressure he'd been feeling.

"I made you up some tea," Ada's voice broke through the silence, and the sound of glass being set on the table he was working at made Tommy lift his head again.

He nodded as a thank you before bringing the cigarette back up to his lips again. He then stamped it out in the ashtray while exhaling the smoke slowly.

"I heard everything that was said, you know," she said then, moving over to one of the chairs so that she could sit. "What were you thinking, Tommy?" she asked with raised eyebrows, her eyes zeroed in on her brother.

Tommy sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked off to the far wall. He didn't need anymore of this right now.

"She was my friend first. She was the only person who cared about me when I moved here. She helped me through a lot. I'm not going to let you ruin her for your stupid ambitions," Ada had no problem speaking her mind and letting him know how wrong he was for responding to (Y/N) the way he did.

Tommy pulled the timepiece from his pocket and checked it before letting out a sigh and returning it back to its place. "I need to leave," he told Ada before lifting the cup and downing the beverage in one go. In hindsight he was thankful that it wasn’t scorching hot. "Thanks for the tea," he said to her as he set the empty cup back down.

Nothing more was said as Tommy stood from the chair he was sitting on. He looked to Ada as he pulled the jacket he'd been wearing back on over his shoulders. She was glaring at him, hoping that he'd have something - anything - more to add to the conversation.

It became apparent that he didn't when he started for the archway. So Ada left him with one last statement: "please don't let her go, Tommy. We all need her." There was a quiet desperation now present in her eyes, one Tommy wasn't sure what to say in response to.

So he nodded and turned to exit the home, heading right to the car he parked a few streets down.

Truthfully what he wanted to do right now was head back to Birmingham and stop (Y/N) from leaving, to tell her that she was more important than any plan he could ever put into place. He knew she was justified in saying everything that she had.

But it was too late to do that now. Tommy knew that there'd be men searching for him by the end of the day if he stepped away from the plan this late into it. At least now he had some sort of control over the outcome of his life. And he was going to try like hell to stay alive...because now he had someone to stay alive for.

The house on Watery Lane was quiet when Tommy stepped into it later that evening. The fire in the main room was still lit, but he couldn't quite remember if they'd put enough wood on to keep it going prior to leaving that morning. So judging (Y/N)'s presence based on that could have surely given false hope.

He took his overcoat off and hung it on one of the hooks by the door. The suit jacket followed after, and he draped that over one of the chairs in the sitting room as he walked through it.

No one was downstairs, but he hadn't expected anyone to be at this time of night.

He quietly walked up the steps and down the hall to the bedroom that he and (Y/N) shared. He paused at the closed door, taking a moment both to steady himself; to regroup from the day's events, and to prepare himself for the possibility that he may be opening the door to an empty room.

After inhaling and exhaling deeply, he turned the knob and opened the door. The first thing he noticed was the lit candle on the bedside table. Seeing it made all of his worries dissipate. (Y/N) had a habit of lighting them and then falling asleep.

Looking slightly to the right, he found the woman that hadn't left his mind since she left him in Ada's sitting room. She was laying on her side, facing the wall, telling him that she was sleeping.

Slowly, quietly he began ridding himself of his outer layers. It wasn't until he moved over to the dresser that he noticed the bags sitting on the floor. They were packed. It was easy to see that, even in the candlelight. He looked back to (Y/N) then, putting the pieces together in his mind. She was going to leave...but something made her stay.

Now only wearing his undergarments, he made his way over to the bed. Hesitation overcame him again. Should he lay with her? Should he go back downstairs? She was in her spot, tucked up against the wall so that enough room was present for him on the small bed they shared.

A few moments passed before he made his decision, lifting the covers and slowly slipping underneath them. He laid on his back for a short time before turning onto his side so that he was facing her sleeping frame. Another bout of hesitation filled him, but he didn't let it stick for too long as he gently draped his arm over her midsection.

That was when (Y/N) let out the shaky breath she'd been holding in from the moment she heard the door open. She was awake the entire time.

"Are you still awake, love?" Tommy asked in a whisper.

"Yes," she breathed out, her voice wavering.

"You've been crying," he pointed out, able to read her like an open book.

"I didn't know if I'd see you again," she answered him, choking up as she spoke.

"I'm here," he assured her, his arm wrapping tighter around her body.

(Y/N) didn't say anything in response. Instead tears fell from her eyes as she held her breath, trying not to make it noticeable that she was crying. But Tommy was able to feel how her body was shaking.

"Turn and look at me," he said quietly, a soft demand that took her a few moments to comply with. Her tear-stained face became visible in the candlelight when she did, and seeing it broke Tommy's heart. "C'mere," he breathed, allowing her to move even closer to him so that he could engulf her in his embrace.

"No one knew where you were, Tommy," she whispered once she was finally able to get words out again. "I thought..." she paused, not even wanting to say what she was thinking, "I thought the worst."

"I'm sorry you had to think that way, darlin'," he murmured, stroking the back of her head slowly. He held her close until her body stopped shaking, giving her the time she needed. He didn't speak until she lifted her head from the crook of his neck. "Better?" he asked in a whisper, peering down to see that her eyes were still closed.

"Slightly," she breathed out a response. "I'm relieved that you're home. Is..." she paused, seeming like she was looking for the words to say next, "is it finished?"

"It's finished," he answered in a definitive tone, nodding his head as best he could.

(Y/N) let out a shaky breath upon hearing his response, feeling as if the rest of the weight had lifted from her chest. She slowly opened her eyes and looked right into his. "I was going to leave," she started, watching Tommy's brows furrow together in the candlelight, "but I realized that this is part of the life I chose with you. That this is the type of work you carry out, and that I can either fight you on it or support you the best that I could. I also realized that my desire to be with you is so much greater than the worry that your work creates." Her eyes didn't stray from his as she spoke. Watching his hardened blue irises soften as he took in her words was enough to fill her heart to the brim with love.

Tommy took a moment to soak in her words. He moved his hand from behind her head so that he could gently trace the line of her jaw with his thumb. Taking in a deep breath, he knew what he had to do. Searching her eyes for a few seconds longer, he thought of the words he wanted to say.

"I thought I could lose everything and be totally fine with it," he began, clearing his throat in hopes that she wouldn't notice the fact that his voice was breaking. She noticed. "But then you came along...and now I see how wrong I was."

"Tommy," she breathed, taken back by his admission.

"I had nothing to live for up until you, (Y/N)," he admitted, not holding anything back now, "and I promise you now that things will change... that there’ll be no more of these plans. I don't want to have the possibility of an outcome that doesn't include you in it."

(Y/N)'s mind was swirling. It had been a rollercoaster of a day, she still couldn't quite believe the change of events that had happened. But she was so very thankful that things had ended up with Tommy by her side again.

"I love you, Tommy," she whispered, a smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he repeated the phrase, his expression mirroring hers as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss.

Now that he had her again, he knew that he could never let her go. What he'd told Michael earlier in the evening would soon be true: he was going to ask (Y/N) to marry him.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

[dyktvideogamesfx]

Rules and the like!

Song poll blog inspired by things like @doyoulikethis-videogame-song, @doyoulikethissong-poll and Guess the Game.

The general gist is similar to most if not all of these blogs in which a small clip of SFX from a video game will be isolated and posted here, with polls for people to vote on how well known it is.

This page'll most likely be updated the more this kinda stuff goes on.

Should go without saying but transphobes, aphobes and exclusionists are not welcome here.

Submissions are: CLOSED

Header and pinned post art by @forgetmenautical (thank you!)

Active Tags:

#open vote : Polls that are open

#closed vote : Polls that have been closed and the SFX source revealed

#dykasks : Asks for the blog.

#off-topic : For anything off topic - may be related to the blog or an update/announcement!

#pet-share : Every Friday I'll post any pictures people send me of their pets! This is tag to view them

General FAQ:

Do you take submissions: Yes! Though only when submissions are open. This will be through a google form that will open and close periodically, whenever I have the time!

Will there be scheduled posts at specific times?: Right now I'm scheduling around 3 posts at 4pm GMT every day, though this may change with my own schedule/if submissions are running low.

I'll do my best to keep it going! :D

What is your name/pronouns: You can call me Smudge. He/They. Nice to meet you :3

Can we say the answer in the tags?: I would prefer if people didn't as this goes against the spirit of the game- However, very vague hints are fine by me! Be warey of spoilers in the notes if you want to play along!

My submission wasn't posted?: I will post every submission I get to the best of my ability but if I cannot locate or find the isolated audio I will have skip as game noise can warp or disturb the sound itself. I will do my best to find it isolated beforehand, but if I cannot then it must be skipped, apologies!

A good resource for finding game SFX is The Sound Resource but unfortunatly not every game has a clean rip for its sounds!

This isn't an SFX!:

For the sake of variety on this blog as long as the sound is triggered by a specific action - it counts as a sound effect. A sound effect, to this blog, is generally anything that has a noise tied to its action. This could be collecting a coin, jumping, healing etc etc.

Can we submit voicelines?: This is tricky, mostly yes.

I would say things like Hornet's "SHAW" from Hollow Knight count for this blog and I would accept them vs something like a clip from Cave Johnson's Lemon Rant I would not accept! Use your best judgement when submitting, but voicelines and clips are not specifically off of the table.

This SFX was used somewhere else!: This blog will run both on submissions and generally what the sound is more associated with rather than its original source! Not every SFX is original and some are used from specific sound libraries. The Roblox OOF, for example, comes from a game named Messiah - however, if a submitter has submitted its source asRoblox, thats what this blog will use as its source.

I will also be going off of what people say is the Context/Source for a game so sorry if that is ever wrong! If it is entirely, 100% incorrect in terms of where its from you can send me a message and I'll change it!

Can you tag scary/sounds from horror games?: The point of the game is listening to unexpected sounds, and "scary" is an extremely subjective description. I will do my best to avoid posting loud jumpscare sounds or other sounds that I think are unpalatable to a general audience, but beyond that I don't intend on tagging specific types of sounds at this time.

How many SFX can we submit in the form?: I would prefer 4 per person, at maximum, if you submit multiple from the same series I will most likely space them out across a few days/weeks.

You didn't answer my ask/did you recieve my ask?: I tend to be doing other things while this blog runs on a queue, I try my best to answer and give the best responses I can for this blog to make it more accessible/comfortable and for everyone to contribute to this fun little game!

However- if you've noticed I haven't answered your ask, it's not personal. It may be due to it already being answered here, too spoilery concerning specific polls, inappropriate subjects for this blog or I may just keep asks in my inbox if they're especially nice/kind to look back on!

Can we add XYZ to the voting options?: I am quite happy with the three options as they are! I prefer not to muddy polls with very specific options, making votes a little more strict. Generally all 3 cover everything they should.

This sound is too loud/quiet!:

In all seriousness, if a sound is genuinely too loud, shoot me an ask. I'll see if its appropriate to add a warning!

What kind of games do you like/play!:

Here's my topsters list!

I'm very open to receiving questions about any and all games though- and hearing recommendations/games you all like too!

[dyaz-stories]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman || Park Chan-Young x f!Reader

summary: Yeong-Su breaks a window at the stadium, and Chan-Young takes the blame for it, resulting in severe consequences. Fortunately, you're here to pick up the pieces afterwards.

word count: 3.1k

warnings & tags: spoilers for season 2 of sweet home, violence, injuries, soldiers being assholes, coarse language, making out, the pronoun "she" is used in reference to the reader

A/N: couldn't find gifs for chan-young so I made this one, but I'm by no means a gif maker, so, yeah. Also, I don't know anything about baseball, so please pretend this makes sense if you know better. I'm not sure which team Chan-Young was supposed to be on, so I picked the Doosan Bears because Sweet Home takes place in Seoul. Finally, it's my first time writing for him, so I hope you'll enjoy my take on this character!

It’s another day at the stadium, which means it’s another day of boredom.

Oh, there are things to do around here, sure. If you don’t mind being ordered around by soldiers who stand behind you with a scowl on their face and remind you that the only reason you’re even there is because of their good will, you’ll find a job to do. Cleaning a corner of the stadium, probably, in hopes that someone will be able to live there — as if there were enough mattresses — or doing the inventory, again, while looking the other way when rations mysteriously go missing and everyone knows who’s doing the taking.

Thing is, you’ve never been one to grovel. In fact, back in the Before days, you were the one giving the orders. Youngest assistant coach for the Doosan bears, the Seoul baseball team, you were in line to become the youngest coach in the history of the country. And, yeah, you weren’t completely in charge, but you were trusted. You had responsibilities. People knew to take you seriously.

You’ve had ideas for how to run this place more efficiently, to avoid making the civilians feel like they’re second-rate citizens, but it’s been made clear to you that you weren’t welcome to make suggestions. So you haven’t bothered, lately, but you also won’t play in that stupid game, where people get to change the rules without telling you.

It means that you do a lot of aimless walking around in the stadium. Chief Ji implicitly lets you roam around, a testament to the fact that you knew each other well back in the days, when you used to bring her coffee before big games, but you mostly try to make yourself useful in the way soldiers haven’t bothered accounting for.

A lot of that means keeping an eye on kids that are left to themselves otherwise. Their parents are busy, and it’s not like there’s much to do for them, here, so you try to keep them entertained. Unfortunately, you’re no teacher, meaning that it’s a lot of physical activities, wherever you find enough place. Other days, people who are teachers take over for you. That is the case today, meaning you’d have the day ‘off’, if it weren’t for Yeong-Su not showing up for class.

You don’t personally think he should have to attend class. You know how mean the other kids can be to him, and though the teachers don’t do much in the name of keeping the peace, you don’t let that fly when you’re in charge. Which is probably why the kid never misses your classes, a small pride that you keep well tucked in your heart.

Still, the teachers insist that you make sure he’s okay, so you agree to go try and find him. He knows the stadium well, meaning it will be no easy task.

You end up finding him throwing a ball against a wall. It looks like he’s practicing his aim, you think when you notice that he’s drawn a square on it. You’re about to approach him, maybe give him a few pointers, when a particularly hard throw has the ball bouncing too high and it crashes through a window, finishing outside of the stadium.

You freeze. Monsters don’t approach the stadium much — it’s been months since there’s been a case of that happening.

But the mere thought of there being something open here still has your heart pounding with fear. It’s only a few seconds before you compose yourself, but that’s long enough for someone to come running. You rush towards Yeong-Su, prepared to fiercely defend him if you need to.

It’s Chan-Young, and you relax, even if your heart is now pounding for a whole other reason.

“What happened here?” he asks.

He may have been running with his whole equipment, but he shows no sign of being out of breath.

“I’m sorry,” Yeong-Su mumbles. He’s hard to handle, especially these days, but he clearly respects Chan-Young a lot. “I didn’t mean to— I was just practicing and—"

Oh gosh, you realize, kid was practicing pitching, and it’s not lost on you that that’s the position Chan-Young mainly played as.

“…and now I’ve lost my ball,” Yeong-Su sniffs.

He’s trying to hold back tears, and it tears a little piece of your heart away. You know that Yeong-Su had found a ball autographed by Chan-Young, know that it’s one of his most prized possessions. It’s no surprise that Yeong-Su can’t stand the thought of losing anything more than what he already has.

Chan-Young glances at you, still standing a few steps behind Yeong-Su.

“He didn’t mean to,” you say. “I’ll help you fix the window.” Eun-Yu probably won’t mind giving you a hand, too.

Chan-Young nods, and you watch as he puts a knee to the floor, so he’s at eye-level with Yeong-Su. If he was any other soldier, you’d be more cautious, but you know him. Worked with him, when he was on your team, lost him when he enlisted, and now you’re in this strange limbo, where he doesn’t seem to know how to interact with you, even though there is this obvious familiarity between the two of you, every time you do speak.

“You need to be more careful,” he tells Yeong-Su, putting on his Serious voice. “If a monster heard that and came in, it could be very dangerous for everyone. And if you’re in front of the window when it happens, it would attack you first. So don’t let that happen again, okay?”

Then he gives Yeong-Su a small, comforting smile.

“If you want to practice again, come ask me next time, okay?” He glances up at you, and there’s such softness in his eyes when he does. “Or ask the coach. She knows her stuff.”

You’d never become coach, not officially, but his use of the word makes your heart swell.

“Okay,” Yeong-Su mumbles, staring down at his feet.

For a moment, it looks like everything will resolve itself just like that, and you’re already putting a hand on Yeong-Su’s shoulders to pull him away with you, when you hear the familiar stomping of military boots coming towards you.

Chan-Young’s expression changes immediately.

“Go,” he orders.

“But…”

He spins around to grab your shoulders, lowering himself to look straight into your eyes.

“Go,” he repeats. “Please.”

There’s such urgency in his voice that you can’t deny him, even if you’re not sure what is going on exactly. You grab Yeong-Su’s hand and pull him with you until you’re both behind a corner, just in time. You keep an eye on the scene, confused. The soldiers behave like assholes, you know that, but surely—

“What happened here?” the Sergeant bellows in Chan-Young’s face. “You’re lucky it was us, who were standing outside the window, and not something else! You better have an explanation, soldier.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Chan-Young says, shoulders straight, from what you can see. “I was just practicing and—”

Before you can wonder why he’d lie, the punch catches him in the stomach, and he doubles over in pain. You catch yourself before you can gasp out loud, and instinctively cover Yeong-Su’s mouth, which is probably a smart move, because he starts thrashing to run towards Chan-Young. You don’t blame him, but you also absolutely cannot let him do that, not right now.

“Yeong-Su,” you whisper, mimicking Chan-Young’s attitude with you just a minute ago. “You need to go back to Ms. Cha. Okay?”

“But they’re…”

You wince, because they’re still berating Chan-Young, and one of them has just given him a hard kick to the ribs. All the more reason for you to intervene.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise, but I can’t do that if you’re here. So go back to her, and I’ll come see you when everything is okay again, alright?”

He sniffs, rubs his eyes to hide the tears, then turns around and runs. At least he’s got a good survival instinct, you think, even if it hurts to remember where it comes from. The second you’re sure he’s not coming back, it’s your turn to run, but towards the soldiers this time, with a confidence that you now worry is wholly unwarranted.

“Hey, don’t you think that’s enough?” you interject, maneuvering so you can get between them and Chan-Young.

There’s a scoff and they roll their eyes. One of them puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes, but you barely take a step back. You’re used to men trying to intimidate you.

“I thought we’d made it clear that your opinions weren’t welcome,” Seo-Jin snaps at you, getting too close to your face for comfort — like that would make you budge.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you beat up someone because he broke a fucking window, when if you’d gotten to work, that hole would be closed by now,” you reply on the same tone.

He opens his mouth to yell at you once more, a vein bulging on his forehead, when Chan-Young comes to stand in front of you. He’s barely just gotten on his feet, has one hand pressed against his rib cage, and still, he’s already coming to stop you from taking any risk. You want to scream at him and hug him all at the same time.

“Please, sir, she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Neither does he!

“That’s enough, Seo-Jin,” sergeant Kim finally intervenes, and the man immediately takes a step back. “Don’t let it happen again,” he tells Chan-Young. “And fix the hole,” he tells you, as an afterthought, before leaving and taking his team with him.

Your blood is boiling. He might try to be the voice of reason now, but you saw him doing nothing while his men got blood on their hands so he wouldn’t have to.

You don’t have time to think about it, though, because next to you, Chan-Young has slowly let himself slide to the floor.

“Are you okay?” you ask, panicked, while he grimaces and leans against the wall.

“I’m fine,” he says, an obvious lie. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You took responsibility for something you had nothing to do with, but I’m the one who shouldn’t have said anything?”

He sighs, shakes his head.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says. He looks at you with warm eyes, and you feel your breath catching in your throat.

There’s something about Chan-Young, there always has been. You always have to remind yourself that he’s nice to everyone, because he’s such a kind person. Even that didn’t stop you from falling for him — and it’s the second time that it happens, damn him.

“I’ll go get medical supplies,” you say, pushing yourself to your feet. “Stay here.”

“There’s no need to—”

“Please, do you want to die from an infection after surviving all these monsters? Stay. Here.”

You ignore any further protests as you rush to get the supplies.

It doesn’t take you long. Chief Ji provides you with what you need without questions, and apologizes for not being able to give you painkillers — they’re reserved for emergencies, she explains. You know the other supplies are, too, but you understand her reasoning, and just thank her with a quick nod and a promise to help out for the next few shifts outside the stadium, if she needs it.

When you come back, Chan-Young’s moved to sit on one of the boxes that are always laying around in here, and you grab another one to sit across from him.

“Open your jacket,” you say as you take the disinfectant.

“I— I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“C’mon, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with an eyeroll, because the guys on the team weren’t exactly shy about taking their shirt off in front of you and he should remember that.

He clears his throat and glances away, and you notice his ears turning red.

“Um, right. Yeah. Just a second.”

Under the jacket, he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt, and he lifts it up so you can see for yourself.

And it’s not looking good. The area is red and swollen already, and you worry it will be worse soon. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about that, so you disinfect the scratches caused by the boots, and gesture for him to put it back down. You’d normally advise to put something cold on it, to calm the swelling, but that’s not really an option here, not when the little electricity you have is mostly used to keep the lights on.

“Try not to move around too much, okay?”

“I’ll try my best,” he says with a brief laugh. It’s a silly recommendation, and you both know it, but you still felt the need to say something.

“Now give me your hand, I’ll see what I can do.”

He does, and you carefully turn it to check the palm. You’re not sure if he hurt himself when he fell earlier, or if it’s just that there’s constantly manual work to be done and it’s hard not to injure your hand. Either way, you start cleaning it and disinfecting it as well.

“Do you think they would have been as hard on a kid?” you ask.

“No!” he protests immediately, maybe a tad too strongly. “They’re humans. I’m sure they wouldn’t have—” He interrupts himself, and you suspect that he knows they still could have hit him, a thought that makes your stomach turn. “But… Yeong-Su’s had a hard enough life as it is. People here are not… kind to him.”

“I’m not blaming you, especially after that,” you sigh, ���I just— You do realize that it’s not your responsibility, right? I’d have helped the kid, and it could have ended better than…”

You gesture vaguely at him, and he closes his eyes for a second. He closes his fingers over yours where you’re holding his hand, rubs his thumb over your skin, which sends a wave of heat through your body. It only lasts a moment, though, before he catches himself and lets go.

“I’m— I was in charge, when his sister— I was supposed to be helping them. And I failed him.”

“What?” Ms. Cha told you that story, in hushed whispers, to explain why Yeong-Su was such a complicated child these days. It had been clear that there was nothing Chan-Young could have done. “You can’t blame yourself for someone turning into a monster and going on a rampage.”

“It happened on my watch,” he insists. “If I’d been more careful— If I hadn’t left the bus—”

You stop yourself to look at him straight in the eye. He’s close, but you don’t feel uncomfortable, not with him.

“That could have happened to anyone. You couldn’t have planned for it.” He exhales, long and slow.

“Thank you for saying that,” he says, but you can tell that your words haven’t sunk in. It breaks your heart, and yet you have no idea what more you can say. After all, you weren’t there. It makes sense that he wouldn’t believe you.

“You still shouldn’t put yourself in the line of danger to—” to what, anyway? Expiate his sins? What does he have to prove? Does he have a death wish or something? “You shouldn’t put yourself in danger when you don’t have to.”

“Better me than Yeong-Su,” he insists. “He’s just a kid, and he has his mom — well, Ms. Cha. And he has you.” You set the disinfectant back down, hands almost trembling as you realize where he’s going with this. “Better me than him,” he just concludes sadly.

“Park Chan-Young,” you say, “you don’t seriously think that, right?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes when he replies.

“He has a family here. I— don’t really have anyone—”

You’re not sure what goes through your head when you put your hand on his cheek and kiss him. If you had to rationalize it — which you’re not really in any position to do when it happens — you’d say that you just wanted to prove him how wrong he was. Truth is, though, that you also couldn’t bear the idea that you were letting him believe that when it was so entirely untrue.

His lips are warm against yours, and you think you feel him leaning into you, but you pull away too soon to know.

“There,” you say as you gather your things. “Now you know you do have someone, so don’t put yourself in danger unnecessarily, alright?”

Then you’re on your feet, hell-bent on fleeing the scene.

Of course, Chan-Young catches up with you in an instant. He grabs your wrist, and pulls you back against him. His eyes are wide as he searches yours.

“Did you mean that?” he asks, his voice catching in his throat.

“Mean what?” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You’re… not sure where he is going with this.

“It wasn’t pity, right? You— I have you?”

The words almost send a shiver down your spine.

“Of course you do. I don’t exactly go around kissing people—”

Next thing you know, his hands are cupping your face and his mouth is on yours. He kisses you feverishly, like he desperately needs you to prove your words to him. You kiss back without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck. It isn’t long before your back hits the wall and you let out a brief groan.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling away from you to check on you. “Are you—”

You don’t let him finish, pulling him back down against you. His hands move down to your waist, one of them slipping under your t-shirt to feel your bare skin. He’s kissing you slower now, more sensual, and he abandons your mouth to kiss down your jaw, then your neck, before he comes back to your lips.

“I shouldn’t—” he mumbles against you. “I’m not supposed to—”

“Everyone’s doing it,” you reply, but it doesn’t surprise you when he tears himself away from you. He’s a sight to behold, flushed and out of breath — and is it odd that you enjoy seeing him panting from kissing you when you know he can run for hours without struggling? He’s always been one to stick to the rules closely. It says a lot that he broke one right now, but you won’t push him any further, not until he’s ready.

You take a step back towards him, take his hand in yours, and press your lips to his cheek for one last, soft kiss.

“Don’t forget now,” you say. “You have me. Don’t risk your life without thinking.”

He doesn’t kiss you again, but he leans in to press his forehead against yours, squeezing your hand in his.

“I have you,” he repeats, as if to convince himself. “I have you.”

I hope you liked it! as always, if you did, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought! feedback is really motivating and is what keep us authors going, so leaving a comment or sending an ask or anything really helps to keep me writing!

more writing for sweet home

[khywren]

「 Resonance 」

summary: You can't lie to yourself about the way you feel for him, the way your heart skips a beat when you steal glances at his painfully beautiful face when you think he isn't looking, the way you've been thinking about him constantly after your night together at the Tiefling party.

What admittedly started out as lust has blossomed into something so much more, and you almost can't believe that your feelings have apparently been requited. You are certain that Astarion could have anyone he wanted, and yet, somehow, he's chosen you of all people.

And you can deny him nothing.

pairing: Astarion/f!Reader rating: 18+ MDNI status: complete tags/warnings: oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, blood drinking, smut, porn with feelings, soft Astarion, reader insert word count: 5.2k spoiler warning: contains spoilers up to the early part of act 2.

a/n: my first ever fic and me jumping headlong into the fandom and succumbing to the Astarion brainrot. cross-posted from AO3.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ◆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You heave a long sigh as you stretch your arms over your head and roll your shoulders, working away the aches and pains of another long day of travel. Tonight, your wayward band of companions have settled down in the remains of an abandoned inn somewhere outside of Moonrise Towers. They're hardly luxurious accommodations, but the place had seemed relatively safe, and there were plenty of soft beds to accommodate you all, always a welcome option over a dusty bedroll and the cold, hard ground. The building was one of the few structures in the area that still had a roof and all its walls intact, more or less. In these parts, that was nothing short of a miracle.

After ensuring that there were no enemies lying in wait within the premises, Gale had suggested you all sleep in the large, shared bedroom; better for safety in case of an ambush, as he had explained.

You couldn't disagree with his logic, but nevertheless you had wanted a little time to yourself, wandering upstairs and out on the balcony of the master suite after getting dressed for bed. You had had a lot on your mind, lately, and you didn't want to pass the opportunity up while you had it. You might not get another opportunity to relax like this for quite some time, and you had learned to take the little joys where you could since escaping from the wreckage of the nautiloid.

Now you find yourself leaning over the railing, bracing yourself against the old wood and chipped paint, your eyes passively scanning your surroundings. Because the sky is completely overcast, there is no moonlight reflected on the water's surface, and the lake is almost eerily placid. You certainly don't enjoy thinking about what the shadow curse might have done to whatever was living there, what sort of monsters might have taken their place.

A gentle breeze caresses your skin and you shiver slightly, rubbing your arms vigorously to rid yourself of the goosebumps that suddenly appear. After a long afternoon spent within the walls of the Moonrise Towers and their unsavory inhabitants, the quiet calm of the evening is a welcome reprieve, as you and your companions take the time to rest before planning your next move.

You close your eyes and relax, letting your mind wander...

“Enjoying the view?”

The voice immediately startles you out of your reverie and you can't control a yelp of surprise as you whip around, embarrassed to be so caught off guard. 

“A-Astarion,” you stammer, your heart gradually slowing its wild beating. “You shouldn't sneak up on people like that.” A smirk of satisfaction finds its way to his mouth. The smug bastard. Damn him for being so light on his feet, you think, doing your best not to give him any further satisfaction. If you do, you're sure you'll never live it down.

“What if I had fallen over?” you protest in a pathetic attempt to save face, gesturing dramatically to the balcony railing. “I can't imagine you'd have an easy time explaining my mangled corpse to the others.”

Astarion steps closer, his face the perfect mask of wry humor that you're so accustomed to. “Come now, darling,” he says, pretending to be offended. “You wound me. You don't think I'd let anything like that happen to you on purpose, do you? And besides,” he adds, shrugging nonchalantly, “if you'd actually become that clumsy, I doubt you'd be of much use in battle. You'd probably be doing us a favor by removing yourself from the equation, really.”

You try to scowl at him in disapproval, but you must not have been successful if the look on Astarion's face or the quiet laugh he offers in response is any indication. You'd say it was almost condescending if you didn't know him any better, but there is a hint of affection in his scarlet eyes as he looks down at you before approaching the edge of the balcony and standing next to you. He's so close that you can smell his distinct scent, something faintly reminiscent of bergamot and rosemary. It's comforting.

“Gods,” he sneers, scrunching up his nose as he looks out over the dreary scene before the both of you, “this place is dreadful, isn't it?”

You smile at him, thankful for the change in conversation topics, and nod your head in agreement. “I can't wait to leave this place behind.”

“As do I.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, his lips drawn back, one gleaming fang just barely visible. “There's hardly anything here for me to feed on besides rats and other filthy vermin, and you would not believe how foul their blood is.”

“I can't even imagine.” You wouldn't mind offering yourself to him again, if he asked, and you turn the thought over in your mind, considering, but before you can act on it, he's speaking again, drawing your attention back.

“And, by the way, speaking of vermin...”

You glance up at Astarion as he pauses; he seems almost hesitant, his expression pensive. “I didn't get a chance to thank you,” he finally says. “For earlier.”

“Hmm?” You tilt your head inquisitively, searching your mind for what he's referring to.

“For what you did back there, back with that vile Drow who wanted me to bite her.” He almost spits out the words, and you can plainly hear the disgust in his tone. “You stood up for me when you didn't have to. Thank you for that.”

There's something about the melancholy way he expresses his gratitude that makes your heart ache, as if he believes he isn't worth the effort, that maybe you were regretting losing out on whatever potion Araj had offered as a reward. Although you don't yet know much about Astarion's past, what glimpses he has shown you reveal a life of trauma and self-loathing, and you realize that, even though he is temporarily free from Cazador's influence, old habits die hard. You suspect that he has convinced himself that he is utterly unworthy of the freedom he has been granted by the tadpoles, not because he truly believes it, but because it is the mechanism that has, so far, guaranteed his survival.

But the way he seems now, allowing himself to be... vulnerable, to let you see more of the real Astarion behind the façade... it's nothing if not encouraging. You decide to risk opening yourself up to him just a little bit more, hoping that he will return the favor.

“Of course I did,” you say, reaching out clasp his hand between both of your own. Your touch is gentle but insistent, grounding him in the moment as you gaze into his eyes, which have darkened in contemplation as he considers your admonition. “There's no way I would have let you go through with it if you didn't want to, no matter what she was offering. Nothing would have been worth that.”

Astarion's eyes widen slightly, but he says nothing, clearly surprised by your response, by the vehement admission in your voice. Undeterred, you continue, hoping your words get through to him the way you intend them to. “You should be free to make your own decisions and choose your own path,” you say, baring your emotions raw. You hadn't intended to become so emotional, but you've grown quite fond of Astarion these past few weeks you've spent together, and you can no longer bear to see him continue to suffer as he has for so long. No one deserves that, least of all him. You know he doesn't want your pity, but you want him to know that you value his autonomy, whatever he chooses to do with it.

“I didn't know you felt so strongly about the matter,” he says thoughtfully, his voice barely above a whisper. “This whole time I've been acting purely on instinct, doing whatever has come naturally. I can't remember the last time I had the luxury of thinking for myself,” he says, a grim look contorting his naturally handsome features into something you can only describe as distinctly un-Astarion. “To tell you the truth,” he says with a wry laugh, “I've forgotten what it's like.”

“It's okay,” you say, squeezing his hand reassuringly, “These things take time. I'm here for you. I... I care a lot about you, you know.”

“Really?”

He sounds incredulous, like he doesn't believe what he's hearing. You don't know if he's ever been important to someone outside of being a means to an end for Cazador and his cruel intentions, a plaything to be taken advantage of and discarded once it's served its purpose. Until now, that is.

“Of course,” you insist. “How could I not?” You seize the opportunity to step closer to him, and you see him visibly flinch as if bracing for a blow, but before he can stop you, you wrap your arms around him and press him tightly to your body in a full embrace, your heart once again racing in your chest. After a moment you feel the tension in his shoulders ebb away and he relaxes into you with a heavy sigh, his relief more than evident. 

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, breathing in your scent, and you feel him tentatively return the gesture, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. You stay there for a while in each other's arms, the closeness of your bodies a comfort for you both. Astarion is warmer than you remember from your last encounter with him, but you suspect the blood from whatever poor creatures he drained dry outside of the inn is the cause of the lingering warmth in his body. It is an altogether unique experience, one that you have ashamedly been longing to experience with him.

“From now on,” you tell him, reluctantly pulling away, “I hope you'll feel comfortable enough to tell me what you want. I promise I'll never force you to do anything that you don't want to, no matter the circumstances.”

“What I want...”

Astarion considers your words carefully, and even through the darkness, you don't miss the flicker of a smile on his face as he gazes down at you through half-lidded eyes.

“What I want,” he repeats, closing the distance you had put between the two of you and brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face and behind your ear, “is you. Us. This. Whatever this is. You're the only one who's ever seen me, the only one who's ever looked at me with something more than fear or contempt.”

He rests his hand on the side of your face, cupping your cheek the way a lover might, silently asking for your permission. You look up at him, your eyes wide; he's taken you by surprise yet again, but you can't help but feel elated by what he's asking of you. 

You can't lie to yourself about the way you feel for him, the way your heart skips a beat when you steal glances at his painfully beautiful face when you think he isn't looking, the way you've been thinking about him constantly after your night together at the Tiefling party. What admittedly started out as lust has blossomed into something so much more, and you almost can't believe that your feelings have apparently been requited. You are certain that Astarion could have anyone he wanted, and yet, somehow, he's chosen you of all people.

And you can deny him nothing.

“Yes,” you say, almost breathlessly, and Astarion slips his hand beneath your chin and tilts your face upwards, capturing your mouth in a kiss. Your hands find purchase in his shirt as he coaxes your mouth open with his tongue and you happily oblige, letting him slip his tongue inside. 

Astarion is surprisingly gentle. The last time the two of you shared a kiss, it was full of passion and lust, of desperation to entangle yourselves in one another, but what you're experiencing now bears almost no resemblance. He takes his time with you, exploring your mouth and savoring the kiss. When you find your back pressed up against the wall, a small noise of surprise escapes you and you can feel his grin against your lips, the light prick of his fangs a subtle reminder of who and what he truly is.

But you've never thought of him as a monster. Even on that first night, you had willingly offered him your blood because you trusted him. Foolishly or not, you had believed him when he said he had no intention of harming you. You know the sentiment holds true even now - he has you practically caged, but the erratic beating of your heart has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the anticipation of where this kiss might lead you.

Astarion deepens the kiss, and you thread your fingers through his hair as he coaxes a soft moan from your lips. The sound seems to unlock something in him, and he pushes you even more firmly against the wall, wedging his leg between your own. A searing heat has already begun to build within you, and you instinctively grind against him, desperate for any relief from the ache you feel at the apex of your thighs.

Astarion huffs a laugh and lazily traces his lips across your jawline and to the shell of your ear, his voice downright predatory as he whispers, “My, my, what an eager little thing you are...”

Another moan tumbles from your lips, louder than the first, and you buck your hips again, but it's not enough. You feel his mouth buried in the crook of your neck, his fangs bared, a promise of things to come. For now, he turns his attention to your nightshirt, his fingers deftly unhooking all the buttons as the garment now hangs loose and open, barely covering your chest.

“Let's see what other sounds you can make for me, darling.” He practically purrs the words, his voice sending a jolt of electricity down your spine in anticipation. When Astarion slips his hand beneath your nightshirt and palms your bare breast, you suck in a breath, trembling beneath him. 

“That won't do,” he admonishes, before his fingers find your nipple and pinch, just enough to hurt in the way he knows you like it. 

“Ah... Astarion-!” 

As you cry out his name, a sound of satisfied pleasure echoes low in his throat, and you almost melt from the way he's looking at you. Greedily. Hungrily. And you have no intention of stopping him from having his fill of you. In fact, you want nothing more than to surrender yourself to him completely.

“That's a good girl.” 

The words ignite an inferno within you, and you pull him for another kiss, the familiar desperation taking hold of you once again, and he rewards you with his lips and his tongue and his teeth, one hand cradled behind your head as the other mercilessly continues to pinch and tease your over-sensitive breasts. You writhe against him, feeling his growing hardness through his pants, yearning for more contact. 

As if he senses your desires, Astarion begins to trace his free hand down the center of your chest, deliberately, achingly slowly. The centuries he has spent perfecting his technique are glaringly apparent, and you all feel no shame in begging him for what you want, what you know you need.

“Please, Astarion,” you whine, breaking the kiss.

“Please what?” he teases you back, his fingertips featherlight as they stop just above your waistband. “You'll need to be more specific.”

You know he's enjoying himself a little too much, but gods if you could fault him for it. As long as he continues to make you feel good, he's welcome to have his way with you.

“Please touch me,” you say, breathlessly. “I want... I need you to touch me.”

When his hand slips beneath your underwear, you vainly try to hold back your moans of pleasure, his fingers gently spreading you apart and finding the part of you that has been crying out for his touch. He traces lazy circles around your clit and you bury your face in his neck, your legs suddenly feeling as though they might buckle beneath you.

“So wet for me already,” Astarion muses playfully, “And I've barely even touched you. How scandalous.”

You cling desperately to him as his fingers continue to explore, applying pressure in all the right places and eliciting a string of filthy curses from your lips. Finally, you regain some clarity and you tip your head back, indicating to the bedroom on the other side of the wall. 

“B-bed... now... can't feel my legs...”

The sensation between your thighs dissipates immediately as Astarion hooks his arms under your legs and hoists you up effortlessly; you wrap your arms and legs around him as he carries you back into the master suite, your nightshirt getting discarded somewhere along the way. As you extract yourself from him, he lays you almost reverently on the bed before stripping his shirt and climbing on top of you and straddling your hips. The lantern in the corner you had lit on your way in casts flickering shadows across Astarion's finely sculpted chest and you marvel at how breathtaking he looks, his eyes dark and wild, his hair tousled and unkept from your wayward fingers. 

“Just look at you,” he croons softly, his eyes tracing a path across your body as you lay beneath him. You can't help but notice that he stops to pay particular attention to his favorite places - your flushed face, the column of your throat, your breasts. “Simply exquisite.”

As Astarion leans over you, you reach for him and pull him down, the ceaseless urge to feel him inside of you momentarily dulled by the tender way he kisses you, slowly but insistently as he grinds your hips together. He pauses only briefly to press his forehead against your own, and with his eyes closed, he looks strangely at peace in a way you've never seen him before.

Your heart swells and you know that you love him - no matter how deeply his feelings for you run, you love him all the same, and you wish for nothing more than his happiness. Astarion, your most treasured companion. 

This time when you wrap your arms around him, you find your fingers tracing the scars carved into his back, and his body grows taut as you feel him wrestle with the way such a bold gesture makes him feel. You hear it then, a single word echoing faintly in your mind: safe. You don't know if the thought is your own or one that Astarion has shared with you through the tadpole bond, but either way he soon relaxes once again, his mouth tracing kisses across your face and neck.

That's right, you think. I am safe with you, just as you are safe with me.

You feel dismayed as he pulls away from you, but when his fingers hook under your waistband and tug your pants and underwear down and off in one fluid motion, your words of protest immediately die in your throat.

Astarion coaxes your legs open before settling himself, and you watch, open-mouthed and gasping as he buries his face between your thighs, and you feel the wet press of his tongue against your most sensitive areas. When his lips close around your clit and his tongue swirls around the swollen bundle of nerves, you cry out and buck your hips, the sensations of pleasure shooting through your entire body. He uses one hand to grab you firmly by the hip, his vicelike grip holding you in place as he continues to drive you wild.

“Astarion... Astarion...” His name is like a prayer on your lips, and you can't help but cling to it like a dying man clings to water in the desert. He hums, clearly pleased with himself, the vibration threatening to send you over the edge. When he moves his free hand to slide two fingers inside of you, you cry out again, threading your fingers through his hair and holding tight as if you don't dare to let him go. 

The feeling of his lips and tongue on you and his fingers pumping inside you are too much to bear, and you find yourself quickly approaching the edge of what you are sure will be the most intense orgasm you have ever had. Astarion seems to sense that you are growing close, and his pace intensifies, his fingers curling inside you as he finally finds the sweet spot. With a desperate moan you finally come undone around him, your thighs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm, the intense pleasure of it all surging through every inch of your body. Your breath comes now in heavy gasps, and you lay there, utterly spent, as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you.

“I do so love those sweet little sounds you make for me,” Astarion says, his voice simultaneously too close and too far all at once. When you open your eyes at last, you see him there at the edge of the mattress, completely naked now, his hand wrapped around his aching cock. The tip shines wet with precum in the flickering firelight, betraying his arousal, and you feel immense delight at how eager he looks to lose himself in you once more.

“Fuck, Astarion,” you manage, your voice less steady than you had intended it to be.

“It would be my pleasure,” he drawls, twisting your words in his own expert little way and pumping himself a few times before guiding his cock to your entrance and pushing only the head inside you. He grabs your hips and positions you for better access, lifting one leg and spreading your legs apart once more.

You bite down on your lip to stifle your moan as you feel the achingly perfect way his cock stretches you out as he slips himself inside, the motion effortless because you are so thoroughly wet and pliant. He doesn't miss the way you attempt to keep yourself quiet. 

“Are you embarrassed, love? Afraid the others might hear you?” His voice is teasing and sly; he knows the answer to your question without you having to answer, but you humor him all the same because you know he wants to hear you say it.

“Y-yes...” 

Even as you admit this to him, he begins to thrust his hips forward, pushing himself deep inside, purposefully drawing more moans of pleasure from your lips.

“Let them,” Astarion says, his pace steady, his own moans mingling with yours as he savors the tight warmth enveloping him. “You don't think for a moment they haven't noticed the way you look at me, do you?”

Shit. And here you thought you had been so secretive. He had known the whole time - of course he had - and, apparently, so had the rest of your party. The only one oblivious was you. This, of all things, makes your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment, but Astarion only laughs, the realization nothing short of an amusement to him. 

As he begins to chase his own pleasure, Astarion suddenly picks up the pace, his hips snapping rhythmically as he fucks you, his cock bottoming out with every thrust. You can no longer bother with the effort of keeping yourself quiet as you whine and tremble beneath him, your hands fisting in the sheets as your head lolls back into the pillow.

“Look at me,” he says, voice low, and you obey his command, gazing up at him from beneath your lashes. His chest heaves as he surges into you, firelight casting dancing shadows across his figure, and you briefly think that you've never seen anything more magnificent in your entire life before the thought becomes a blur interspersed with his own thoughts of more, more, more that travel through the tadpole bond.

“Ohhh...” you moan out in a lazy drawl, “Ohh gods...”

He's brought you close to the edge of oblivion again, and your whole body tightens beneath him. You're so close, now, all it would take is just a little bit more...

“Astarion,” you manage, “I'm...”

He anticipates what you're about to say and his pace becomes agonizingly slow, and you do nothing to hide your whine of dismay as you search his face for an explanation, your breath coming in short gasps as you try in vain to grind yourself back against him.

“Not just yet, love,” Astarion croons, and in one easy motion he slips his arms beneath you and pulls you abruptly up and into his lap so that you're straddling his thighs, his cock still buried inside you. “I was hoping you might indulge me just a bit further...”

You watch as his eyes travel to your neck, the red of his irises an impossibly deep shade of crimson, and you can sense the hunger within him. 

“Yes... yes,” you tell him, knowing that there had never been any other answer. “Anything, everything, as long as it's you.”

You brush the hair away from your neck, baring the column of your throat to him, and he slots himself against the crook of your neck, his lips searching for the right spot. In the meantime, he thrusts himself lazily into you and you are more than happy to comply, doing all you can to move your hips along the full length of his cock while still allowing him access to your throat.

The bite comes quickly, and you cry out, the white-hot sear of pain gradually ebbing into a dull ache of pleasure as you feel him begin to drink deeply from your veins. It's a strangely intimate act, and as the weariness of the blood loss begins to overwhelm you, you cling to him, your hips moving automatically, ceaselessly as you share this moment with each other.

When Astarion has had his fill, he pulls his mouth away, and you can feel the faint trickle of blood as it drips down your neck. He runs his tongue along the trail of blood, savoring every drop before sighing contentedly. Newly invigorated, he gently rests his hands on your hips, aiding you in your thrusts as he guides you along his cock, pulling almost completely out of you before slamming back into you, slowly at first but then with a growing desperation that matches your own. He won't last much longer, and neither will you at this rate.

Dizzy from the bite and the adrenaline, you bury your face against him, calling his name over and over again as you grow closer and closer to release. All it takes is for his fingers to find your clit again before you lose yourself completely, throwing back your head and arching your back as the intensity of your orgasm claims you once again, your entire body electric with pleasure as you rock against him, babbling incoherently. 

The feeling of your tight wet heat around him is too much for him to bear now and he follows you over the edge, your name a guttural groan deep in his throat as he spills himself inside you. With a few more quick thrusts, he pulls out of you and lays you back onto the mattress, but he doesn't shift from where he kneels on top of you, his eyes tracing every curve of your body as if committing this moment eternally to memory.

You are utterly exhausted, and your eyes flutter closed as he settles himself beside you before you reach out instinctively for him. He allows you the small pleasure of holding his hand and lacing your fingers together as he presses featherlight kisses along your face, the act strangely domestic but nonetheless a welcome one.

“Get some sleep, love,” Astarion says, his voice laced with honey and something you are sure can only be genuine affection for you. “I'll be right here if you need me.” Satisfied, you feel yourself sink quickly into a deep sleep, perhaps the best you've had in weeks, safe in knowing that, at least for just this night, no harm will come to you. The last thought on your mind is of Astarion, his face a vivid reflection in your mind's eye, and you can't help but feel at ease.

-----------

When you awake the next morning - or whatever passes for morning in this place of constant darkness - your eyes open slowly, your body rousing from slumber as you become aware not only of where you are but why you are there. Reminders of the night you shared with Astarion come flooding back in an instant and you feel suddenly wide awake, sitting up with a start. Beside you, the mattress is empty, and you begin to feel disappointed before Astarion clears his throat from across the room and you follow the noise to where he stands, adjusting his clothing as he dresses for the day.

He hadn't broken his promise, you realize with relief. He had spent the entire night with you, though you doubt he got much if any sleep, as he told you once before that sleep was mostly irrelevant for his kind anyway.

“Good morning,” you say, offering him a tender smile. “How long was I out? I haven't slept that well in ages.”

“It's hard to tell in this place,” Astarion shrugs padding over to hand you your discarded sleepwear. “But long enough, I would imagine. The others are already up, at any rate.”

You can hear the faint sound of chatter and the distinct noise of cookware coming from the lower level of the inn, carrying with it the savory aromas of meats and whatever else your party is preparing for breakfast. Your stomach suddenly rumbles with hunger, and you dress quickly, sliding out of bed and instantly being met with the ache in your limbs that can only come from a night spent in the throes of passion. Your fingertips trace the puncture marks on your neck and you groan, realizing that as soon as you join the others, they will be painfully aware of how and with whom you spent the night - that is, if the noises Astarion had so expertly coaxed out of you hadn't already done the trick.

Astarion, ever-observant, senses your plight and you can tell he's barely holding back his laughter. He is positively elated. You scowl at him, half-hearted, but still deeply embarrassed.

“You think this is just hilarious, don't you?”

“Of course I do, darling, you do know me ever-so-well,” Astarion quips back, his eyes crinkling with delight as he regards you fondly. “Now then, shall we? We wouldn't want to keep everyone in suspense.”

He guides you to the door and towards the staircase, and your mind frantically tries to form a plan of action for what is surely about to be a truly mortifying moment. In the meantime, somewhere in the back of your mind, you also begin considering how you plan to make Astarion pay for his transgressions; after all, if you're never going to live this down, neither will he.

[ninupi]

Hii, can I request headcanons or fic for Mitsuya with a model reader?

crush? | t. mitsuya

₊˚⊹♡ tags; fem!reader, finale timeline so spoilers? mitsuya being a absolute sweetheart as usual, also him struggling a bit as a new designer lol, this is a slowburn ngl...y/n overthinking towards the end

₊˚⊹♡ wc; 3,500+

₊˚⊹♡ a/n; this was a bit vague so I wasn't too sure what you wanted exactly, I didnt mean for this to be so long but then I just kept writing and it became a lot longer then I anticipated LOL also ill probably rename this later, i never even know what to name some of these sometimes

Mitsuya threw down all the photos of headshots his assistant had brought him to look through "This is it?" he sighed rubbing his eyes tiredly. The girl stumbled around a bit "Uh yes sir, that's all of the models...you don't see any you like?" she questioned a bit frustrated.

"I'm sorry, but no, none of them have what I'm looking for exactly..." he sighed, standing up and picking up a headshot of a young man. "None of them? Like not a single one?" the girl questioned, a bit shocked. Mitsuya only shook his head while pacing around. 

"Well, I don't mean to step on your toes or anything, sir, but the show is in two months, and we need to start booking models..." she muttered, looking through her emails, hoping to see a response. You can call Hakkai, and I'll choose some of the people here, but give me a few more days to pick someone for the main piece."

Mitsuya ran a hand through his hair, softly pulling at the roots in frustration. He had someone specific in mind for the main piece of the show. Unfortunately, Okamoto, his assistant, was unable to book you. They didn't even receive an email back from your manager.

Mitsuya knew it'd be a miracle if he were able to book you for his show but he still tried. But now that the odds weren't in his favor he had to find a new model for the face of the show, he could just go with Hakkai. He wasn't too sure Hakkai wanted to sport a dress on the runway though...

You watched from the corner of your eye as your manager angrily swiped through her tablet, hundreds of emails in the reflection of her glasses. You went to say something when you felt a tug on your hair "Could you be a bit more gentle?" you muttered getting fed up, that was the sixth time this stylist had tugged on your hair in the last twenty minutes.

You didn't say anything when he softly apologized while continuing to do your hair in a crazy updo for your upcoming photoshoot. "Are you ok over there? You look like you're about to throw that thing" You call out to your manager who's now angrily typing away on her tablet.

"You would think after sending 15 emails and not receiving a single one back this person would stop emailing me about you," she muttered with furrowed eyebrows, who the hell was blowing up your manager about you anyway? You had just started seriously modeling this year and you've been very successful but you didn't think you were that desired by some people. 

"Who is it? What's it for?" you question now really curious about this person's persistence while shifting in your seat. "I don't even know, it's to walk at some small runway show, nothing worth your time." She sighs lifting her glasses to rest on the top of her head. 

You had only walked a few runways, and each time it was a bit chaotic but you had lots of fun "Oh really, who's the designer? I wouldn't mind doing another runway!" your manager looks at you a bit shocked while you smile at her innocently. 

She quickly recuperates and walks over to you holding out her tablet "He's a small upcoming designer, Mitsuya Takashi? I've never heard of him personally but Hakkai Shiba walks at almost all of his shows." She explains while swiping through some of his designs. 

"No way! I love his clothes, why didn't you tell me sooner?" you whine looking at all the emails his assistant has sent your manager over the last two weeks. You feel yourself basically shaking in excitement at the thought of walking for one of your new favorite designers. 

"I didn't think you even knew who he was, I didn't until I got her emails!" she explains pointing at the tablet in your hands, and to give her credit you had just discovered the upcoming designer recently. 

One of the other models at a photo shoot you were at was wearing a beautiful dress and when you asked her where she got it, she explained that Mitsuya had made it for her as a thank-you for modeling for him. Not only was the man extremely talented, but he also seemed really kind. 

You had always searched for his clothing at any store you had gone to, you never had any luck though. You were thinking about reaching out to him yourself but lately, your schedule has been extremely busy. This was the perfect opportunity you were searching for. 

"Tell him yes, anything he wants, yes I'll do it! If I have stuff scheduled when he needs me, cancel it!" you smile handing your manager her tablet back and standing up seeing now that your hair is done. "B-but what about the shoot with miu miu?" your manager sputtered quickly following behind you.

"Cancel it!" you smile closing your dressing room door in your manager's face. 

When Okamoto barged into Mitsuya's office sputtering about booking you he thought she was crazy. But when she showed him the email from your manager stating you agreed to walk the runway in his clothes he almost passed out. He immediately started stitching together your dress, too excited to sleep even though it was already past midnight.

Now two weeks later, he was almost done with the piece just having to add the tedious details and fix some stitching here and there. But it was also the day you'd come by for the first fitting and be meeting mitsuya for the first time. 

To say he was nervous was an understatement, he kept pricking his fingers while working on the other pieces for the show and stumbling over stray rolls of fabric. He didn't even realize the time until Okamoto came in telling him you'd be there in an hour, he quickly started to clean his office not wanting you to see the chaotic room. 

When he finally finishes cleaning the room he looks around for any stray items lying around. Not seeing a single thing hethrew himself onto his chair when a big sigh, he knew you should be here any moment. He was so nervous he keptthinking about what he'd say to you when he finally met you. 

"Thank you so much for accepting...no thank you for giving me the opportunity...no..." he sighed still not able to think properly when he heard his office door open. Quickly standing up he dusted himself off and watched as you and your manager walked in talking to Okamoto. 

"Yeah I was so jealous after she told me he had custom-made it for her, I was tempted to steal it from her dressing room when she wasn't there!" Mitsuya watched you as you laughed while readjusting your purse on your arm, he doesn't think he's seen a more beautiful woman. 

You were wearing a simple outfit, a black long-sleeve turtle neck, some dark-washed jeans, and a pair of black boots. It was nothing special but Mitsuya thought you looked amazing, he couldn't even bring himself to say something when you looked at him. 

"Oh my god, it's so nice to finally meet you! I've been waiting for this day since Saki told me about this!" you exclaimed briefly motioning over to your manager but quickly making your way to Mitsuya shaking his hand. He could only smile in response a little too shocked to say anything at the moment. 

"Really? I didn't even think you knew who I was..." he awkwardly laughed while shaking your hand "I just discovered you recently from Momo? I'm sure you remember her, you made her that gorgeous custom dress! I've been searching for some of your pieces in stores but I've had no luck" 

Mitsuya was loss for words the more you kept talking, you knew who he was? And you were on the hunt for some of his clothing on your own time? Not even saying anything he immediately bowed at a 90-degree angel "Thank you so much, you don't know how much that means to me, seriously" 

You immediately begin to panic "What? What do you mean I haven't done anything!" you say while bringing him up by his shoulders "You agreeing to model my clothes is good enough, you're a very sought-after model y/n. You wearing my clothes is bound to help me take off as a designer so I thank you." 

You can feel your face flush a bit, you've never had someone be so sincere to you in this industry before. Now you realize you've made a great choice by agreeing to model for Mitsuya, you hope you can continue to work with him in the future. 

"Ok let's get to work before you make me cry or somethin'.." you softly joke taking off your bag and handing it to you Saki "Oh I'm sorry I didn't mean to- ok yeah let's get to work!" Mitsuya stumbles putting his glasses on and grabbing his sketchbook.

"You can take a seat over there if you'd like" Mitsuya motions over to a couch in the corner of his office when he notices your manager aimlessly standing around "Oh thank you, do you mind if I make a few calls and whatnot?" she sighs taking a seat with your stuff. 

"No of course not, if you need anything just ask me or Okamoto" he waves off now walking over to you "I actually already started working on the piece if you'd like to see it? Or even try it on?" he mutters flipping through his sketchbook"Of course I'd like to try it on!" 

The rest of the day was spent talking and getting to know each other while Mitsuya tailored the dress to fit you better and went over the rest of the look with you. He also asked for your input and what you thought would look good or what you'd like to wear, you could help having a small crush on the man after leaving his office that night. 

It's now been two months since you and Mitsuya first met and you two have gotten a lot closer since that day. Some nights after you've finished with your fittings for other designers you'd invite Mitsuya out for dinner, wanting to talk the man more.

And if you two weren't out for dinner you were constantly texting, but now that his show is this weekend you haven't heard much from him. You weren't too surprised you imagined he was extremely busy trying to finish the last details for the show and whatnot, but you had to admit you missed him. 

You just finished with a small photoshoot for a magazine when you checked your phone and saw that he still hadn't responded to your message from this morning. "Loverboy hasn't answered you?" you turn to glare at Saki who ignores you while packing up your stuff. 

"I told you to stop calling him that…but no he hasn't answered" You sigh grabbing your bag from her arm and begin to walk out of the studio "Do you want to stop by his office?" you almost trip when walking down the stairs "What? We can't just stop by his office like that, he's probably really busy!"

Saki only shrugs her shoulders while opening the door to the building allowing you to go first "Why not? You can bring him a coffee or something, I'm sure he'd appreciate it" You bite your lip contemplating it a bit, you really did want to see the man but you also didn't want to bother him if he were busy. 

"Ok yeah let's go, but we have to get coffee from the place by his office, he really likes that place!" you explain while getting into the back of the car with Saki who playful rolls her eyes "Yeah I know you've only told me a thousand times how much he likes that place."

Now standing outside of Mitsuya's office with his and your order in one hand and a box of pastries in the other you wonder if this was a good idea. You two had hung out plenty of times but you'd never shown up at his office unannounced and you hoped your sudden arrival didn't annoy him. 

Before you can even think about turning around his office door opens and you see a beautiful girl walking out on the phone. She doesn't notice you at first too immersed in her conversation but when she does she gives a look of confusion and then goes wide-eyed. 

"Are you here for Takashi?" at first you thought she was one of the other models walking in his show but when she refers to him by his first name you begin to doubt it. Who exactly was she? Mitsuya never mentioned a girlfriend before or anything similar. 

"Yazuha can you go to the bakery down the street and get us some stuff?" you hear someone call from Mitsuya's office making the girl roll her eyes. "Actually it looks like someone is here for Takashi" She then motions for you to walk into the office as she continues her way out the door still on the phone. 

When you walk in you see Mitsuya looking in your direction with a confused face which quickly morphs into a smile "Y/n! What are you doing here?" he quickly makes his way over to you grabbing the sweets and drinks out of your hand and placing them on his desk. 

You quickly glance over the man standing in what you assume will be his runway outfit and back towards Mitsuya "I just wanted to see you, plus you never answered my messages. So I thought you could use some fuel or whatever…I didn't think you'd have other people over I should've gotten more" 

You begin to look through your bag for your wallet going to ask the other man what he'd like "Don't worry about it y/n, I'm sorry for not answering your messages I've been finishing up Hakkai's piece all day. I'm almost done, if you want we can all go grab dinner together or something?" 

You didn't even realize he was leading you to sit over on the couch until you were seated "Oh uh- ok yeah that's fine with me" Then it hits you that you didn't even introduce yourself to the other person in the room. 

"I'm so sorry I'm y/n, I guess we'll be walking in the show together it's nice to meet you" You smile up at the very tall man who just turns away from you with a blank look on his face. What the hell was his deal "This is Hakkai, he's not good at talking to girls so don't take offense. And the girl outside is his sister, Yazuha, I've known both of them since middle school."

You watch Mitsuya continue to work on a few pieces of Hakkai's suit while the boy doesn't say anything just then Yazuha walks back in "Don't bother talking to that guy, he can't talk to girls" You turn to her with a small smile while Mitsuya softly laughs "Yeah Mitsuya's already told me, I'm y/n it's nice to meet you" 

Unlike her brother Yazuha has no problem talking to you "Yeah I know, who wouldn't? You're like one of the top models right now, I thought Takashi was lying when he said he booked you." she muttered while shaking your hand. 

"Ah I'm so glad Okamoto reached out to my manager, it's been so nice working with Mitsuya I hope he and I can keep working together in the future!" You hear Mitsuya curse a bit under his breath "Are you ok Taka-Chan?" you turn and watch as Mitsuya nods sucking on his thumb.

"Y-yeah just pricked my finger a bit, but yeah I've really enjoyed working with you too y/n…" he smiles, and you note his ears are red. You return a bashful smile and turn back towards Yazuha who's giving you a smug look "Right…well if you start working with Takashi a lot then you'll be seeing us a lot too so let's be good friends" 

You've always had after-show jitters but right now you feel like your heart is going to explode out of your chest. The show went great but before the show, you barely had any time to actually talk to Mitsuya, just a quick prep talk and good luck. But right before the show actually started he had told you to immediately find him afterwards. 

You wondered the entire time what is it that he wanted to talk to you about, then you wondered what he'd have to say about your walk. What if he hated it and never wanted you to model for his clothes ever again? You didn't even notice when he knocked on your dressing room door, too preoccupied with your thoughts. 

You only realized he was there when he gently opened the door "Y/n? Are you in here?" you quickly walked over to the door opening it the rest of the way "Oh I'm sorry I wasn't sure you were in here" you notice he has a big bouquet of flowers and an even bigger gift bag in his hand. 

Unable to say anything you just pull him into your dressing room and close the door "Sorry I didn't hear you knocking on the door" you mutter turning to look at him. He doesn't say anything and neither do you for a while until he holds out the bouquet "These are for you…"

You take the flowers from him and notice their your favorite flowers in your favorite color. You also notice how nicely they're wrapped, they had to be really expensive "Mitsuya, these are gorgeous…thank you so much." 

He only shrugs with a shy smile on his face "I wanted you to have something nice… I-I did my best to wrap them but I've never done it before so I'm sorry if it looks a bit sloppy…" He rambles while gently grabbing them from your hands and setting them down. 

You couldn't believe that he took the time to wrap the flowers himself, they look professionally done. You couldn't even deny it anymore if you wanted, you've totally fallen for Mitsuya. He's been nothing but good to you since you first met and watching the way he treats his friends and other models shows that he's just a great guy. 

"Mitsuya they're gorgeous, they look perfect seriously, thank you so much for these." you mutter still admiring the beautiful bouquet "Oh well I'm glad you like them, I also have this for you…" he whispers placing the huge gift bag on a chair in the room leaving you to open it.

You wonder what can be in the bag, it's massive but when you peek inside the bag you don't really see much. Turning to him to give him a suspicious look he just shrugs his shoulders with a cheeky smile "Open it" Turning back towards the bag you pull out the tissue paper. 

At first, you just see some fabric but when you pull it out you notice it's a gorgeous dress. Looking at all the intricate details you're lost for words "Do you like it..?" you hear Mitsuya ask while he walks up closer to you "You made this for me?" 

You turn towards him now holding the dress close to your chest as if he just threatened to take it from you "Yeah I made it last week, if you don't like something I can- No!" he looks at you wide-eyed at your interruption "Sorry but no Mitsuya it's- it's…I seriously don't have words I can't believe you made this for me?" 

He can't help the cocky grin on his face "I'm so glad you like it…" Then you notice his smile falter a bit "Would you like to wear it tonight to dinner…" Was he asking you out right now? Like a real date? "With me I mean" he quickly clarified seeing your blank look.

You seriously wanted to jump for joy but decided against it to not embarrass yourself "Like just you and me…? No Yazuha or Hakkai?" you don't want to get your hopes up too soon "Yes y/n just you and me, no Hakkai or Yazuha, just us. Like a date" he softly laughed walking towards you grabbing one of your hands. 

You got one little hop in before you stopped yourself "S-sorry I'm just really happy right now" you explain when he gives you a funny look "But yes, I'd love to go on a date with you Mitsuya" you mutter now too shy to look him in the eyes.

"Ok great, I'll wait outside for you then we can go" he smiles softly rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb "Ok I'll get dressed right now!" you laugh gently pushing him out of your dressing room and quickly grab your phone to tell Saki she can leave without you. 

[gremlin-girly]

Smoke & Fire

Whisk & Whimsy Chapter 3

Dividers by: @/bernardsbendystraws | Banner by me, made in canva, images from canva and Pinterest (credit to the original creators)

Biker Bucky x f!Cafe Owner! Reader

Tags/warnings: descriptions of violence and injury, petnames (doll, sweetheart, cupcake)

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through an AI machine. Some tags have been left out due to spoilers. Please read at your own risk.

Chapter summary: Your plot to stop the ride doesn't go as planned - and you begrudgingly hop onto Bucky's bike. However, the day is marred by an event that shakes up you and the gang.

Word count: ???

Series Masterlist | Bucky Masterlist | Navigation

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

In the week leading up to your little stunt, you had continued packing lunches for the White Wolves. They now had a rota. So, instead of standing menacingly outside, they'd actually come in and chat with you.

And they always left a tip.

You hadn't realised until the end of the first week, that you'd actually made enough in tips to almost offset the cost of making their lunches. You had wondered if they'd just been tossing money at you, which you weren't about to complain about, not realising how much they were actually giving you. However, one Thursday afternoon when it was just Steve quickly stopping by for a pastry (the pastry fiend!) he'd confirmed your suspicions by handing you the exact amount of change.

Bucky never made an appearance in the week leading up to your act of vandalism and you hated the fact that it irked you so much. You couldn't quite tell what his plan was but you knew it was supposed to irritate you and it was working. None of the bikers mentioned Bucky or payment around you, nor did they reveal any secret ploys in hushed tones.

It was strangely always nice to see them everyday, despite them being a constant reminder of a looming threat, and it was no longer affecting your business. Although, slow days were a bit of a problem.

The following morning after your act of vandalism, you're an anxious mess. You imagine Bucky slamming open the doors to the café, face like a storm, yelling that he knew it was somehow you that gave him a flat tyre.

What happened instead was Sam appeared around noon, carrying a large bike bag that you now knew was used to collect take-away lunches.

"Afternoon." He grinned, looking around the café. "Busy day?"

You smile sarcastically at him, making a wide gesture at the empty cafe. "Extremely. Think you may be waiting a while due to the lunch rush."

Sam snorts and sets the bag on the counter next to you, handing you a piece of paper with the gang's orders. You take the paper and study it for a few seconds, making mental notes of the orders before setting it down with a smile at Sam. Maybe because you'd known him and Steve the longest - on a total technicality - but you felt more at ease around them. Unlike Bucky who made you feel like you were jumping through hoops for some mind-game you were desperate to win.

Speaking of mind games. "How's things at the club?"

You pull out the pastries and desserts first since they don't need to be heated, and neatly place them in to-go boxes. Your eyes flicker to Sam, trying to assess if your simple question has caused any miniscule change in his body language.

But if it had, he was excellent at hiding it.

"Same old, same old." Sam sighs, placing his chin on his palm, watching you put the dessert tongs down. "Bucky had a flat tyre today so he's been shitty."

"Oh?" You turn away to the counter behind you to disguise a smirk. Victory!

"Yeah. He gave Alexei an earful for losing one of the wrenches. He was going to come by himself and-" Sam abruptly stops himself, feigning a cough.

You continue to butter bread slices but your eyes narrow. What had been about to say?

"You okay? Need any water?"

"No, I'm fine." He beams at you when you glance backwards at him. "Anyway, Bucky's been a bit sour. But I heard you might be coming out for a ride? That true?"

Now it's your turn to clear your throat. "Yeah. I said I'd give it a whirl."

"Uh huh." Sam says, and you can hear a smugness in his voice like he knows exactly why you're going on the ride. You don't like that. You don't need another person to play mind games with.

"When would the next ride be? If Bucky hasn't got a bike then-"

"Oh, the bike's fixed." Sam interupts, tapping his fingers on the countertop. "Bucky can change a tyre in less than fifteen minutes."

Shit. Must be those annoying big biceps he has. You shake your head and mutter, "Of course he can."

Sam snickers. "Yeah. But it delayed him today. I should really let him make the formal invite."

Sam eyes you as you place five of ten neatly wrapped and filled sandwiches on the counter in front of him.

"You know, you could surprise him by coming to the club." Sam suggests casually, placing the sandwiches into the bike bag. "He'd like that."

You frown but quickly replace it with a smile. It's wasn't a bad idea, but you didn't want to seem like you were a kiss-ass either. The ride was getting you out of a month's payment - whatever price that may be - but going out of your way to visit Bucky may be a shoe-in to get in his good graces. Regardless, Sam was only trying to be helpful.

You hum, unsure, grabbing the other sandwiches and wrapping them. You didn't have any friends to discuss this with and Sam seemed decent enough.

"I'm gonna be honest," you begin warily. "I don’t want it to seem like I'm rolling over that easily."

Sam barks a laugh that startles you and shakes his head, sighing loudly as he stands straighter, looking at you with an expression of utter disbelief. You frown at him, confused.

"God, the two of you..." he mutters under his breath, shaking his head again. He throws up his hands in a hapless shrug. "It won't. I promise."

You're none too convinced. Especially by his strange reaction but you sigh and give a small nod. "Fine. I'm trusting you on this."

"If it doesn't work I'll pay half of what you'll owe the next month." Sam says, holding out a hand for you to shake. "Gentleman's agreement."

You look at his hand then back to his eyes; beautiful brown iris' that glimmer with knowing. Another deal. Perhaps too good to be true.

But you have nothing to lose.

You take his hand and shake it firmly. "Deal. Now, those coffees...."

The deal you make with Sam earns you a point but going to visit Bucky nullifies it. And the whole thing with the tyre... That knocks off a point of your tally, leaving you in the lead by one point instead of two.

You - One

White Wolves - Nil.

The next day happened to be another slow day and just happened to be rotation for the pastries and desserts. It was sunny outside and, unable to delay the inevitable any longer, you closed up early and packed up the food that was supposed to be replaced or eaten before heading upstairs to your apartment to shower and change.

Clambering into some white wash jeans and a basic tee that didn't stink of coffee, you gave yourself a quick spritz with your favourite perfume that left you wondering why you were wasting good product on such a lowlife to begin with.

Extortion. Threats. Probably murder. Maybe vandalism. Definitely antisocial behaviour.

You curse softly and your eyes wander to your make up bag before you snap your head away. Nope. No way. You wanted to look presentable, not desperate. You grab your handbag and keys, heading back down the stairs, picking up the giant box of sweet treats from the counter before maneuvering out the door.

The club was only a thirty minute walk from the café and you got to bask in the warmth of the sunny afternoon weather of Briarridge as you traipsed the patterned concrete sidewalk under the sway of the trees. Hopefully, Bucky would be as appreciative of your initiative as Sam had said he would be and you wouldn't make a complete fool of yourself.

No one was outside this time although the bikes were still there. You stood awkwardly outside the door for a moment, unsure whether to knock, and by the time you'd decided a red-headed young woman - that wasn't Natasha - opened the door.

"Hi," you said, trying not to sound startled. "I'm-"

"I know. I'm Wanda, Piertro's sister." She said, grinning. "Sam said you might come today."

Your jaw twitches. All mind games. "Ah. Well. I suppose my surprise is ruined?"

Wanda snorts. "Bucky still doesn't know. Come in."

She steps aside, holding the door for you to squeeze through. As you step over the threshold, there's a few cheers and then grumbles as money is exchanged between a few of the bikers.

The words escape your mouth before you can stop them. "Were you betting on whether or not I'd show up?"

Some of the bikers, like Steve, Joaquin and Alexei, look sheepish. Others, like Sam, Natasha and Piertro, look entirely smug. You realise you may have sounded to harsh in your shock and, adjusting the box in your arms, haughtily stick your nose in the air.

"And I came with pastries."

Steve is the first one his feet. "You did?"

"Depends - did you bet for or against me coming today?" You narrow your eyes playfully, angling the box towards the door, and Steve's face heats as he pleads with you.

"Aw come on, that's not fair." He huffs, and Sam pats his shoulder with a laugh.

"Bucky's upstairs." Sam tells you as you hand Wanda the box with instructions to not give Steve too many pastries.

"Thanks, Sam." You smile at him before glaring playfully at Steve. "Traitor."

You head to the door near the back of the bar, saying hello's as you passed the bikers that were sat around. You open it up and head up a narrow staircase and stop just outside another door at the top when you hear the sound of raised voices.

Bucky’s gruff voice is clear as day - you could pick it out of a crowd if you had to - but you can't quite make out the younger voice. You rack your brain trying to think of everyone you saw downstairs but you realise you either need to double back or knock before you hear something you shouldn't.

"I said no, John." Bucky's voice sighs. "It's not a good idea."

"It is. You're just too stubborn to see it."

Knuckles raised ready to knock, you're surprised when the door swings open and Walker is stood glaring straight at you. He curses, clearly surprised to see you stood there too.

"Bucky your doll is here to see you." He snarls, inching past and stomping down the stairs.

You watch him leave and throw a raised eyebrow at Bucky, who's now stood in the doorway.

"Trouble in paradise?" You half sneer.

"Could say that." Bucky smirks down at you. "Although, this is a nice surprise. What do I owe the pleasure?"

Reaching into your bag you pull out a rather squished paper bag that contains the pastries that Bucky liked so much; the pain au chocolat.

"I rescued these from Steve." You say handing the bag out to him. "Sam told me I might get in your good books if I came by."

"Sam?" Bucky raises his eyebrows and takes the bag, peeking inside. "There's two in here."

"I assumed you had a coffee machine." You say, leaning against the wall. It's cool against your skin. God, why do you get so nervous and sweaty around him? He's not that scary. "I wanted to ask about going out on the ride with you guys... If you have time?"

You offer him a sweet smile and hope he's not too suspicious of your change in demeanour. Bucky's blue eyes are wide and sparkling and you're so taken aback by the beautiful grin he gives you, you almost miss what he says.

"Sorry - what?"

"I've always got time for you, doll." Bucky retreats back inside. "I'll put a fresh pot on."

Being inside Bucky's office was strange.

It was spacious, or supposedly so, without the clutter. The wallpaper was peeling and the floor creaked with every step, and whatever dark stains were hidden in the carpet were covered by a mass of papers.

There was a single cot in the corner - he didn't sleep here, surely? - and a wide desk in the centre of the room cluttered with books, folders and more papers. You thought that being a biker leader meant being free of paperwork, but apparently not. The bed had thin blankets and looked extremely uncomfortable and you didn't think you'd want to be sleeping on that anytime soon. Even though you shouldn't have been thinking that in the first place.

The desk had an awkward looking chair in front of it, and your suspicion was confirmed when you sat in it, wriggling to get yourself semi-comfortable. Probably another tactic he uses to intimidate and manipulate people. However, you did note that it was strange. If the White Wolves were getting money from other businesses in town, and potentially via other illegal activities, where was the money going? Clearly not into buying a comfortable bed or new chairs and if you thought about it, the bar was a bit run down too. Strange.

Behind the desk there's a tattered, well-loved leather office chair and a mini fridge with the coffee pot sat on top of it. Bucky pulls out two mugs from a drawer and asks how you like your coffee, making it for you without complaint.

"It's not gonna be like your fancy coffee, doll." He says, handing it to you before sitting in the leather chair with his own mug. "But it's all I've got unfortunately."

"That's alright. It's good." You smile around the rim of your mug as you take a sip. It's not awful by any means but maybe a switch to a better brand would need to be considered.

Bucky watches you before sipping his coffee. "Sorry about the mess. If I'd known you were coming I would've cleaned up."

Taking a look around the room, looking up at the warm, bare light bulbs above you, you shrug. "It wouldn't be a surprise visit then."

Bucky huffs a laugh and smiles at you, pulling a squished pastry from the bag you'd brought, eyeing it curiously before taking a large bite. His eyes flutter for a moment and you can feel your heart swell with pride and satisfaction; you're winning him over! If you do get into his good books you might just get away unscathed from the White Wolves.

"So," Bucky says pointedly after swallowing another gulp of coffee. "The ride."

"The ride." You nod. You're sure there's an innuendo in there and you try not to think about it in case your cheeks heat up too much.

The leather chair creaks under the strain of Bucky's weight as he leans back, humming thoughtfully. "It depends on the weather. Today is perfect for a ride but everyone has tasks to do."

You nibble at your own pastry as Bucky sighs.

"Sunday is supposed to be nice." You suggest, although you want to kick yourself. Why would you suggest it to him? You're meant to be getting out of going.

Bucky's blue eyes sparkle at your suggestion, or maybe it was a trick of the light, but he adds, "And you do a half shift at the café."

You blink in surprise and it must read all over your face because Bucky laughs. "You have your opening hours on your website... and Steve told me."

Dammit Steve.

"Well, Sunday seems like the best bet." You try not to sound disappointed. "Speaking of bets, did you know they were betting on whether or not I'd come today?"

"Really now?" Bucky smirks at you, his ringed finger tapping against the porcelain of his mug. "Do you know who won?"

"Snitches get stitches." You say cutely, drinking more of your coffee as Bucky chuckles. It's more like a low rumble, and you have to suppress a shiver of excitement that surprises you. "But I do know Steve lost."

Bucky snorts into mug, splattering coffee droplets onto his face and shirt. You watched a particularly quick droplet disappear under his shirt before averting your gaze and trying not to laugh. It was oddly human for a big scary gang leader to giggle coffee over himself - and admittedly endearing. Especially when the tips of Bucky’s ears tinged red as he wiped his face with the sleeve of his leather jacket.

"'Course that punk lost." Bucky puffs, looking away from you. "He makes the worst decisions."

"Unlike you?" You don't mean for the quip to leave your mouth and try to bestill your beating heart, thinking you may have crossed a line. But Bucky only looks at you and shakes his head with a smirk.

"Now, I wouldn't go that far. I make plenty of bad decisions."

Your unvoiced question hangs in the air as you both take a swig of coffee at the same time. The air between you both is... awkward. You're both slightly flustered and you can't decipher why.

"So... Sunday?" You ask, placing your empty coffee mug on Bucky's desk with a small smile.

"Sunday." He nods, getting up to lead you out. "We'll pick you up."

When Sunday rolls around, you're tapping your foot against the sidewalk nervously. The day was bright and warm, another pleasant indicator of spring, but you had gravely underestimated what you would be doing.

You could drive a motorcycle, you weren't even sure if you could get on, but you had no helmet and no gear. Worst of all, you had realised the day before that you would be clutching to Bucky for the entire duration of the ride; pressed against him and unable to stop him from speeding off.

The rumble of of motorbikes made your stomach drop. Bucky leads the pack; ruby red bike gleaming in the sunshine with Steve and Sam following behind him, then Alexei and Natasha, the Clint and a few others. Notably, the younger bikers, Hoskins, Walker, Joaquin and Piertro, weren't around. Bucky pulled up first, turning the ignition key and slouching back into the leather seat of the bike and smiling over at you pleasantly. Once Bucky's engine switched off, it was a well-timed beat as everyone else turned their respective bikes off.

Bucky, and everyone else including Natasha, had their leather jackets with the White Wolf insignia on. Some, like Bucky, wore leather bike gloves to stop callouses forming and few, like Alexei, wore a helmet.

"Doll," Bucky greeted with a nod.

You stood awkwardly, feeling 10 pairs of eyes on you as you emerged from the shade of Whisk & Whimsy. You were in jeans and a long sleeved tee, unsure what to wear for a ride out with probably the scariest people in town. You only hoped you didn't get hurt or worse.

What if this was a trap?

"Hey, guys." You smile and hope it doesn't show your fear. You step towards Bucky, whose gloved hands rest on his thick, jeaned thighs.

"I suppose I'm with you?" You say playing with your keys.

"If you want to be." Bucky says cautiously before holding a hand palm up. "Phone and keys. I'll put them in my pocket so they don't fall out."

"Oh. Yeah, thanks."

The feeling of being watched persists and you can see Alexei give Natasha a playful shove that looked more like a gesture of I-told-you-so but you couldn't think of why that would be the case.

"How do I...?" You can feel your cheeks grow pink as you look over the bike. It's up to your hip. Swinging your leg over would be awkward and embarrassing because you would definitely get stuck. Bucky seems to think the same because he laughs.

"I'll give you a hand, shortcake." He teases before twisting his torso awkwardly and planting his feet either side of the bike. He points to where you can stand on his calf as a step, holding your hand to keep you balanced as you slot perfectly behind him. Your legs dangle and Bucky instructs you to keep them tucked unless you want a nasty burn from the exhaust.

Once you're seated, lightly gripping the shoulders of Bucky’s jacket, Bucky tells you to wrap your arms around his waist.

"I was afraid you'd say that..." you mutter under your breatg and you're sure you can feel Bucky stifle a laugh as your arms tightly pretzel around his middle. Secured against Bucky’s back, and looking like a displeased Koala bear, Bucky’s engine roars to life again.

Then the cacophony of engine purrs echo in the street as the White Wolves ride down the streets and out of Briarridge. You almost miss seeing the welcome sign as you press your face against Bucky’s back.

His jacket smells like leather, cigarettes and an amber musk you can't quite place. It's reassuring, at least, when he picks up speed along the open road. You peek an eye open.

Your heart thuds with adrenaline and you watch as the road beneath you blurs. You don't know if you want to smile or puke. As if it couldn't get any worse, Alexei startles you with a booming howl, which the other White Wolves echo. Bucky included.

"Aren't you gonna howl with us doll?" Bucky chuckles over the noise. You grip him tighter.

"I'm too busy trying not to die!"

"You're fine." Bucky scoffs, but slows his speed anyway. You hope Bucky can't feel your smile through his leather jacket or how your heart had swooped.

After thirty minutes, you were brave enough to raise your head. Two minutes after that with your hair whipped into a frenzy, you were smiling and laughing. You even joined in the cheesy howl the second time round.

It felt like minutes had passed when the bikers pulled off road an hour and a half later. The area they'd parked in had some grubby looking toilets and lots of picnic benches. Bucky helped you off the bike and chuckled when your legs wobbled slightly.

"Okay there, Bambi?" He asked, taking off one of his gloves with his teeth.

"Yeah." You breathed, wiping sweaty palms into your jeans.

"Don't worry, everyone gets Jelly Legs when they first ride." Steve chuckles approaching with two open beers and a water. He hands the beer to Bucky and offers you the water. "Sorry, didn't know what you liked. But after all that howling, I guessed you'd need water anyway."

Bucky snorts as he takes a swig and you narrow your eyes playfully at Steve as your cheeks grow hot. "Ha ha. I was getting into the spirit of things."

"I'll say," Natasha chirps, appearing with Sam and Alexei. Embarassment washing over you. Maybe you'd gotten a bit excited but it was the first time since moving to Briarridge that you'd really been able to let go.

"Wild and free or whatever." You shrug, taking a much-needed swig of water. Your comment earns you a couple of laughs and the gang breaks apart, beginning the gatherings of a fire and setting up drinks from a cooler bag attached to Alexei's bike. The preparation that had gone into this outing was incredible. However, you still couldn't understand where the younger members were.

Sam catches your confused look and explains. "The younger ones are manning the fort. We take turns. Just so happened to be their turn."

"Lena and Wanda are happy to have the peace and quiet." Natasha chimes in before smirking and dropping her voice to a whisper as she sits next to you. "The only reason I'm here is because Bucky thought you'd be more comfortable with a womanly presence in this sausage party."

You almost choke on your water and sputter an laugh as she swigs water from her own bottle. Shortly after the drinks are flowing, the gang and you are sharing stories around a small fire started by Clint, laughing and teasing. You feel like you've accidentally become a member of a family; unsure how or when that managed to happen, considering it was your stubborn pride that put you on Bucky's radar in the first place.

You hate to admit it but you're giving the White Wolves a point for a fun day out.

You - one

White Wolves - one

The sun is setting on the horizon by the time the bikers start packing up to head home, painting the sky hues of tangerine orange, cotton candy pink and violet purple.

You look back towards Briarridge, a measly obscure black spot just beyond the horizon now, watching smoke billow in dark plumes against the sky. Bucky steps beside you quietly, following your gaze.

"That doesn't happen often." He comments.

"What? Fires?"

Bucky shrugs, his hulking shoulders crinkling the leather of his jacket. "Yeah. Usually it's a freak accident or someone left their stove on."

You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him but Bucky doesn't seem to notice. Heaving a deep sigh, you stretch your arms up above your head, letting your spine creak and crack the stiffness from the adrenaline rush away.

"Come on, cupcake." Bucky jerks his head towards his bike. "Let's get you home."

"I had fun today." You admit quietly, dropping your arms and beginning to walk back to Bucky's bike. Bucky falls into step behind you and you think he didn't hear you at first and thank the stars. However, after a few moments he responds.

"I'm glad." He says in a soft tone. "I had fun too. Maybe we could do this again som-"

"BUCKY!"

You were inches away from Bucky's bike when Natasha screams his name. You both turn to find Natasha and Sam barrelling towards you. Sam has his phone pressed to his ear and Natasha is waving her arms frantically.

"It's the club!" Natasha huffs as she skids to a halt before you and Bucky, doubled over to catch her breath, pointing to the horizon. "Lena called - it's - it's the club."

"Oh God." You breathe, turning to look back at the smoke wide eyed. You think of the younger members who'd stayed behind and panic rises from your gut. You can only hope they'd all gotten out safely, but you also worry that Bucky may blame or suspect you. It was awfully convenient that when most of the gang was out on a ride that their beloved club burned to the ground.

Sam is still on the phone as he jogs up beside Natasha, his usually smiling face stoic.

"It's Joaquin and Hoskins." Sam reports gravely. "They've been stabbed."

Chapter 3 - END

A/N: it's giving idiots in love rather than enemies to lovers now haha.A big thank you to @buck-star for letting me rant about these this series 🥺💕

Also thanks everyone for the lovin' and your patience 🫶 last two weeks have gotten busy (and I can tell because of migraines haha) so here's to Spring!

Taglist:

Tag yourself here

@mrs-elsie-barnes @vunblr @mercurial-chuckles @looking1016 @awkwardgiraffe726 @irishhappiness @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @dugiioh @cieraboobear @railmesebstan @pandaxnienke @kei943 @norseloki26