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#sorry i couldn't find a gif of this so i made quick ones but i am watching a like 480p version so they're ugly lol
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I Hate It When You're Drunk - 9
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Character: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader
Summary: A forbidden romance between a princess and her bodyguard leads to a dramatic wedding, but their happiness is soon overshadowed by political intrigue and betrayal, testing their love and resolve.
I Hate It When You're Drunk Series Masterlist
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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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Watching the former queen leave the palace felt surreal. But seeing the king lose his composure, even for a moment, made it all worth it.
Perhaps Alicia's return stirred something in Leonard. Did her presence remind him of who he used to be? Does he feel guilt for taking the life of the former king and his siblings?
Leonard clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated, but he couldn't do anything since she was a diplomatic guest.
"Welcome to the family," he said, tapping Bucky's shoulder. "As of today, you're officially part of royalty."
Bucky stood tall, his expression composed despite the turmoil of the evening. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I will do my best to honor the family name and uphold my duties."
Leonard gave a curt nod, his gaze still clouded. "Now, go find my daughter. She must be shocked by the uninvited guest."
Bucky nodded and quickly left to find you.
He asked one of the guards outside, "Where is she?"
The guard hesitated, clearly nervous. "She went back to her chambers, sir," he stuttered, quickly correcting himself. "I'm sorry—Your Majesty."
Bucky didn't waste another moment. He hurried down the corridor toward your chambers, the tension from the evening still weighing on him. When he reached your door, he found the room shrouded in darkness. The only light came from the faint glow of the moon filtering through the window.
His eyes fell on you, lying across the bed, already passed out from the alcohol. He sighed heavily, a mix of relief and sorrow flooding him. Today was supposed to be the day both of you had longed for, the day that sealed your love. But it didn't feel that way—not with all the chaos and the looming weight of what had happened.
Walking over quietly, Bucky knelt beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your tear-streaked face. His hand lingered on your cheek, and his heart ached for you. You had endured so much, and now, instead of celebrating together, you were drowning in grief and confusion.
He gently wiped away the remnants of tears. He wanted to protect you from all this, but somehow, it all seemed to follow you both, no matter how hard he tried. Today should have been filled with joy, yet it felt as if the very world had turned its back on the happiness you deserved.
👑👑👑👑
The next morning, you woke with a pounding headache, groaning as the light filtered through the curtains. As you blinked your eyes open, you noticed several servants standing around your bed, their faces full of uncertainty.
"Why are you all surrounding me like this?" you asked, your voice groggy.
"Your Highness," one of the servants said nervously, "today... you're scheduled to leave for your honeymoon?"
You widened your eyes in shock and threw your head back onto the pillow with a frustrated sigh. The last thing you wanted right now was a honeymoon. You felt exhausted—mentally and physically.
"Where is my husband?" you muttered, rubbing your temples to ease the headache.
"With the king," the servant replied.
"Fuck," you murmured under your breath.
Reluctantly, you got out of bed, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes. The servants hurried to help you get ready, brushing your hair, and helping you into a more appropriate outfit for the day. But despite their efforts, you felt sluggish, your mood foul as you tugged on your shoes and stormed out of the room.
You ran through the halls toward the dining room, your steps quick and determined. As you pushed the heavy doors open, you were greeted by the sight of King Leonard and your newlywed husband, Bucky, sitting together at the table. The tension between them was palpable, though Bucky remained composed.
Leonard’s eyes flicked toward you as you entered, his smirk just as arrogant as ever. “Ah, here comes the bride. I trust you slept well?” he asked, his tone dripping with amusement.
You shot him a sharp look. “Not particularly,” you muttered.
Leonard chuckled lightly, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Well, I suppose you’ll have plenty of time to rest on your honeymoon. You’re leaving shortly, after all. I wish you both a safe and pleasant trip.”
Bucky stood up, offering you his arm, his expression neutral though you could feel the tension radiating from him. “Shall we?” he asked quietly.
You hesitated for a moment but then linked your arm with his, glancing up at him. Together, the two of you walked toward the palace doors, with Leonard trailing behind. As expected, a crowd of press and citizens had gathered outside, their cheers and shouts echoing across the courtyard. They were here for the young newlywed couple—their eyes full of admiration and hope for a perfect royal love story.
Though you still felt tired and irritated, you forced a smile, waving at the crowd. Bucky followed suit, his arm still linked with yours as he raised his hand to acknowledge the people.
Once you reached the helicopter, the cheers faded into the background. Bucky slid into his seat, fastening his seatbelt, but he could feel the cold air between you. You had been giving him the silent treatment, and it didn’t go unnoticed.
As you reached for your own seatbelt, it was Leonard who stepped in to assist you. You let him fasten it, though the gesture felt awkward. You looked up at him, narrowing your eyes.
“Stay at peace while I'm gone,” you warned, your tone sharp but laced with exhaustion.
Leonard chuckled, his grin smug. “You never know,” he said, his voice low with hidden meaning.
You glared at him one last time before settling into your seat, the sound of the helicopter’s blades whirring loudly as it prepared for takeoff. Though you were now on your way to what was supposed to be a joyful honeymoon, the weight of everything lingered in the air between you and Bucky.
As the helicopter soared through the sky, the silence between you and Bucky was thick and heavy. He glanced over at you several times, noticing how your eyes were already closed, your head resting against the seat. You looked peaceful, but he knew better. There was a tension beneath that calm exterior—a storm waiting to break.
Bucky’s emotions were all over the place. He had thought this day would be different. After all the time you both had waited, after the struggles and secret glances, this was supposed to be your moment.
But instead, it felt hollow. His chest tightened as he replayed everything that had happened, from the uninvited guest to the strange distance you now put between the two of you. He couldn’t help but feel helpless, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had suddenly grown.
On the other hand, you were drowning in your own thoughts. Behind your closed eyelids, memories of the past day swirled in your mind. Everything felt off. You were supposed to be celebrating your love, but it felt like the world around you was falling apart.
After what felt like hours, the helicopter began its descent, landing softly on a lush green field. You opened your eyes to see the sprawling beauty of the resort that would be your honeymoon destination.
You had hoped for somewhere far away, but Leonard had other plans, citing safety concerns. At least this place was special—a resort with several private islands. It was supposed to be a romantic getaway, secluded from the rest of the world.
The resort’s staff greeted you and Bucky with utmost care, ensuring everything was perfect for the newlywed royal couple. After checking that everything was in place, the managers and employees finally left, leaving the two of you alone on your private island.
The air between you remained tense as Bucky stood near the window, watching you move around the room. The silence was deafening.
“Are you going to continue ignoring me?” Bucky’s voice broke the quiet, his tone low but firm.
You didn’t answer. Instead, you walked over to the bar and grabbed a bottle of rum, searching through the ice bucket. Your hands moved mechanically, trying to find something to numb the unease creeping up your spine.
Suddenly, Bucky grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “Stop it,” he said softly but with authority. His blue eyes searched yours. “I’ll answer it. Whatever you need to know, just ask.”
You paused, the rum bottle slipping from your grasp and landing with a soft thud on the counter. Your chest rose and fell with frustration.
“Fine,” you muttered, turning to face him fully, but the hurt in your eyes was unmistakable.
Bucky exhaled deeply, his grip loosening but not letting go completely. Both of you stood there, a heartbeat away from what could either be a breakthrough or another layer of distance.
Both of you sat across from each other, the tension in the room palpable. Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to find the right words. His eyes locked onto yours, determined, but there was also a flicker of doubt. He knew he couldn’t drag this out any longer.
"I started the coup d'état," he finally said, his voice low but steady.
The moment those words left his mouth, it felt like a thunderclap in your ears. Your heart pounded as you processed the confession, your mind racing to catch up with the weight of what he had just said.
"Bucky, what the fuck?" you snapped, disbelief and anger flashing in your eyes.
“I know... I know,” Bucky said quickly, holding his hands up as if to calm the rising storm. "But we—I mean, me and the others—had one goal: to make the king step down. That’s it.”
You let out a frustrated groan, rubbing your temples as if that could somehow ease the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “Bucky, I love you to death, but what you did was stupid.”
Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Excuse me?” he shot back, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I did it for us! And for the victims of that tyrant king!”
You couldn’t deny the truth in his words. The king—your father—had left a trail of victims in his wake. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you recalled the horror that had befallen your family. “The king killed his three older siblings, along with their spouses and children,” you said, your voice trembling. “My cousins... they’re all gone because of him.”
Bucky’s gaze softened, hearing the pain in your voice, but he didn’t speak. He knew the reality of your father’s cruelty, but it was different hearing it from you.
“He was a no one,” you continued, your voice thick with disbelief. “And yet he became the king that everyone fears.” You stared at the ground, the weight of your father’s reign heavy on your shoulders. “He knew his weaknesses, and the people who supported him exploited them.”
"What made me even more furious," you continued, your voice sharp with betrayal, "is that I’m the future queen, yet I had no idea what was happening in my own country. My husband turned out to be the leader of a coup d’état, and my father—the tyrant king—knew it before I did!"
You lifted your head, locking eyes with Bucky, frustration lacing your tone. “I’m your wife, but you left me in the dark!”
Bucky’s eyes widened, his mouth opening to defend himself, but you weren’t finished.
Your words hung in the air like a dark cloud. Bucky looked at you, his expression torn between regret and defiance. You both sat there in a tense silence for a moment, the weight of everything settling between you.
Finally, you sighed, leaning back in your chair as exhaustion overtook your frustration. “I’ve been living in a bubble,” you admitted quietly.
Bucky leaned forward, his voice soft but filled with conviction. “I didn’t want to leave you out of it. I thought... I thought I was protecting you.”
He ran a hand through his hair again, clearly struggling with the gravity of the situation. “I did it for us—for a better future. You know the kind of man your father is. I couldn’t just sit by and let him continue.”
You looked at him, the raw emotion in his eyes matching your own. Despite everything, you knew his intentions had come from a place of love, no matter how misguided they were.
“I get it,” you said, your voice softer now. “I understand why you did what you did. But you should have trusted me, Bucky. I should’ve been part of this.”
Bucky reached out, taking your hands in his. “You’re right,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “I should’ve told you. I should’ve trusted you.”
You squeezed his hands, feeling some of the tension start to dissolve. “We’re supposed to face things together, not alone,” you said softly.
“I know. And from now on, we will,” Bucky promised, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles.
You both sat there for a moment, the silence no longer oppressive but comforting. You had reached an understanding, even if the road ahead was still uncertain. There was still love between you—love strong enough to survive even this.
As the tension between you and Bucky began to ease, you both found solace in the quiet moments of your honeymoon. Finally, it was just the two of you, no more secrets or unspoken words hanging over your heads. The weight of everything slowly lifted as you immersed yourselves in the beauty of the private island.
The days were filled with a tranquil bliss, the warm sun kissing your skin as you and Bucky strolled along the secluded beaches. The turquoise waves lapped gently at the shore, creating a soothing backdrop to your peaceful escape. You’d often find yourselves on the balcony of your villa, overlooking the ocean, wrapped in each other's arms as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange.
Bucky had his arm around you as you leaned into his chest, both of you quietly enjoying the view. “I wish we could stay like this forever,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.
“Me too,” you agreed, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. For the first time in a long while, you felt safe and content, the weight of the past slowly fading into the background.
You and Bucky spent your days exploring the island—swimming in the crystal-clear waters, relaxing in hammocks under the shade of palm trees, and sharing intimate dinners under the stars. His laughter was lighter now, and your smiles were genuine. There was no need to rush; this one month of vacation belonged to the two of you.
At night, Bucky would hold you close as the two of you talked about the future, making plans that seemed so far away now but filled you both with hope. The warmth of his body, the way he kissed your forehead before you both drifted to sleep—it made everything feel right again.
But on the last day of your honeymoon, that peace was shattered.
The morning had started quietly enough. After breakfast, you and Bucky curled up on the couch, flipping through the channels on the TV. As you turned on the news, something caught your attention. The usual cheerful headlines were gone, replaced by the stark seriousness of a breaking news broadcast.
The image of King Leonard, standing behind a podium, filled the screen. The sight of him immediately sent a chill down your spine. You could feel the air shift, the sense of foreboding creeping in.
Leonard stepped closer to the microphone, his expression grim. He paused for a moment, scanning the audience, before leaning in and saying, “We’re going to war.”
Your heart stopped. For a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.
"What the fuck?" you and Bucky blurted out at the same time, both of you staring at the screen in disbelief.
Bucky's face hardened, his hands clenching into fists. "This can't be happening," he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he stood up, pacing in front of the TV.
You swallowed hard, trying to process what you just heard, but dread weighed heavily on your chest. The peaceful bubble of your honeymoon had been shattered, replaced by a terrifying uncertainty. War meant everything would change—and not for the better.
Bucky stopped pacing and looked at you, his eyes filled with concern. “We need to go back.”
You nodded slowly, your mind racing. “I knew something was off,” you murmured, fear creeping into your voice. “But war?”
Neither of you could believe it, yet the reality was there, staring at you from the screen.
The honeymoon was over.
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cellophaine · 2 days
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Chapter VI: OUT
Masterlist
Pairing: Art Donaldson x F!Reader
Warnings: Fluff. Negative thoughts due to toxic parents.
Author's Note: Sorry for the late upload! I fell into a rut after the last update, and thought I could make deadline since this chapter is shorter. I hope you will enjoy this little intermission before things kick into gear in the next chapter!
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GIF Source: @/roranicuspond
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You woke up around noon on the 27th. Disoriented and starved, you rummaged through the cupboards for a quick meal. You scarfed the instant noodles down in silence. There was no taste, only texture processed in your distracted mind, but it was enough to keep your stomach from gurgling. Afterward, you turned your phone on to find missed calls, voice mails, and texts accumulated in a concerning number. Most of them were from Art. His earnest concerns and their urgency burgeoned with each message, and so did your guilt as you read them. Remorse festered and spread through your skin like a cling film as you listened to his voicemails. Art just wanted to know if you were okay, and here you were, not responding.
What could you say? You dwelled on each hypothetical response; you typed them out just to delete them. Your eyes followed the characters as they slowly disappeared, watching each word withdraw itself behind the blinking cursor until you were left with an empty field again. It felt wrong, not reassuring Art, but a part of you believed it was for the best. What would happen if he found out about the real you? What if you hurt him just like how you hurt your family? He should be protected from someone like you.
You sent a short message to Sophie, letting her know that you were okay. Fighting the urge to text Art again, you put the phone face down on the coffee table, ignoring the part of your mind that craved his attention and soothing words. You knew he would know what to say; he would tell you what you wanted to hear. But it was not his responsibility to give you that.
You were still in yesterday's clothes, and the faint smell of sweat was embedded in the soft fabric. Too paralyzed and tired to change, you fell asleep on the couch and woke up a few hours later. The sun had gone down, and the streetlights had gone up, casting its yellowish glow into the darkened apartment. You sat up, your movement slow and sluggish as a splitting headache started to pound in your head. There was an imprint of the cushion on one side of your heated cheek as you wiped the drool off. You reached for your phone, your eyes squinted at the artificial glow and noticed that there was another text from Art.
I'm worried about you. Can you call me?
Ignoring his text again, you returned the phone to the table and diverted your attention to the DVD collection that Ashley owned. After putting on a random movie, you sourced for some snacks, and ended up stuffing your face with chips until your throat parched. The barely processed chips left your body not too long after the movie was over. You hunched over the toilet, dry-heaving into it as your insides twisted and worked itself into a complicated knot. Your body ran hot, yet you couldn't help but shiver. Your body was leaden with fatigue, and all you wanted to do was to indulge in the comfort of your bed. After rinsing your mouth, you dragged your feet to your room and fell into your bed, your body exhausted from the effort.
/
The morning came, and you didn't feel much better. Repulsed by your own smell, you took a quick shower. Droplets of water drenched the back of your cotton shirt as you cleaned the mess from last night. The table was wiped down, the crumbs were swept up, and the dirty dishes were placed in the sink for later. You layered a sweatshirt over what you had on and headed out with the trash bag. After discarding it in the dumpster behind the building, you made your way to the park nearby. Walking along the lake's edge, you shuddered as a cold breeze whispered on your exposed skin. You crossed your arms, snuggling deeper into yourself. The winter here was nothing compared to the one in your hometown. Back home, the cold was biting and cruel, always hungry for any vulnerability. Had it always been that way? Or was it morphed and changed into something you could easily recognize? Your relationship with your parents was bleak and apathetic. It had modified your perception of home with a certain cynicism that was hard to let go of. You were grateful for the warmer weather here. It was a welcoming start.
You found a bench, brushed the fallen leaves off of the cold iron and sat down. The park's vacancy made you feel small and insignificant, yet, at the same time, safe and at peace. Right here, right now, you were no one, and your actions didn't have consequences. You could dwell on the simple act of existing, doing nothing, and that would be fine. You could pretend that in this little pocket of space and time, the outside world ceased to exist. In this undisturbed chasm, you were not suspended in your own mental struggle. You were not the source of your parents' distress. You didn't have to worry about how you were perceived by others, and whatever label they might want to imprint on you didn't matter. You felt a familiar prick in your nose again, and you sniffed hard, hopefully, to stave off the feeling.
Hunger curled in your stomach, reminding you that you hadn't eaten. It was 2:30 PM. You left the park shortly after and stopped by a convenience store. You walked home with a cold-cut sandwich and a soft drink, figuring groceries could wait until tomorrow.
From the gate, you could see a silhouette at the door to your building. The familiar blue scarf hung loosely around the arched neck that you had silently admired on multiple occasions. The dishevelled blond head was bowed, shielding their face from your eyes, but you didn't need a closer look to know. The gate rattled softly, and he perked up. You locked eyes, and your heart seized in your chest. Your name sounded like the sweetest note in his voice. Art stood up and crossed the distance between the gate and the door in a few strikes. You felt the pull as well, but there was a hesitation that slowed your steps. But that didn't stop Art from reaching you. He wrapped you in a tight hug, pressing his body to yours. Your arms hung limply to the sides. His mouth was right next to your ear when he spoke, and you felt his worries deep in the marrow of your bones.
"I've been calling and you haven't answered. I was so worried about you. Are you okay?"
You inhaled deeply, and your senses were filled with Art. The softness of his coat, the solid frame of his body, the warm scent of his skin. You closed your eyes, revelled in his presence, relieved in the comfort you had so desperately needed. There was so much you wanted to say, but they failed to rise above your bewilderment.
"Aren't you supposed to be in Vermont?"
Art pressed you further into himself.
"Yes, but I don't care about that right now. Are you okay?"
"Yes, I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
At that, he pulled away but still kept you within reach. An incredulous, almost accusatory look was evident as he explained.
"You didn't answer my texts, or calls, or voicemails. Made me think something bad happened to you."
You shook your head vehemently.
"No, nothing happened. I'm sorry that I made you come all this way, but I'm fine."
You tried to step out of his embrace, but his hold on you was unwavering. You braved a smile, your hand patted reassuringly on his forearm.
"You shouldn't be here. You should go back to Vermont and enjoy your vacation with your family."
Art stared at you, and you felt exposed under his gaze. For a long moment, he said nothing. The need to fill in the silence was too much, but you fought against it.
"Did you know that you're not good at lying?"
His voice was low yet piercing. His words mirrored your sister's from a few days before. Your brows furrowed, your eyes strained to keep the tears at bay.
"That's so weird. My sister said the same thing."
Your voice wavered, and your attempt at a smile faltered. Before you could give in, you forced yourself out of Art's hold and beckoned him to follow you.
"Let's go inside."
/
You locked the door behind you while Art looked around the apartment from the entryway, shrugging off his coat and scarf and leaving them on top of his carry-on. You felt relieved that you cleaned the place a little before you left. Art's eyes followed you, and you pretended that you didn't notice that as you put the bag of food on the counter.
"Do you want anything? Water? Food?"
Art followed you to the kitchen.
"No, I don't want anything. I want to know what happened, and why you're here."
You busied yourself with unpacking the small bag. Art came and stood by you so close that you could feel his warmth.
"Come on. Talk to me."
"It's … complicated."
"Then start slowly. From the beginning. Or give me a summary. Anything."
Only then did you turn to look at him.
"Why do you want to know so badly? This doesn't have anything to do with you."
"It has everything to do with me because I care about you. I like you."
His admission was like honey to your tea, making your unjust indignation resolve rapidly. You softened your tone.
"I … I like you, too. That's more of a reason why I shouldn't tell you."
"That's bullshit. If you really liked me, you wouldn't shut me out like this. It's unfair."
"It's not up to you to decide–"
He cut you off, making you swallow the rest of everything that you wanted to say.
"After all this time we've spent together, I feel like you're still hiding yourself from me. Every time I ask about your family, you always turn the question back to me."
Art held both of your hands in his, caressing your skin with his thumb.
"You listened to me when I wanted to vent about my parents. You even came to my match even though you had class. Let me take care of you like you've done with me."
"I had no idea that you felt that way. But … I can't."
You looked away from him, your head dipped to look at the floor, but his gentle grip on your chin made you confront him.
"Why not?"
"I don't deserve it."
"Why not?"
"Because … because …"
The more Art pushed, the less certain you became of your self-perception. Everything your parents had said about you came rushing back, and your mind obeyed their command as if you were still under their authority.
"I'm an ungrateful, awful person who's selfish. I will hurt you."
A faithful verbatim of what you were told. Art's face was a mix of everything, but what stood out the most was a contained anger. For your sake, you supposed.
"Did your parents say that to you?"
You nodded.
"They're wrong."
"And what do you know about me? I think my parents know me much, much better than you do."
"I might not know you the way your parents do, but they don't know you the way I do either."
You exhaled hard, unable to come up with a rebuttal. Deep down, you wanted to believe Art, wanted to believe that there was still at least one good thing about you. Here he was, imploring you to confide in him. And you stopped holding back. The tears came quickly, and steadily. They were hot on your cheeks, but they couldn't compare to the warmth that he enveloped you with. He pulled you into himself, his back bent to be closer to you. You rose on your tiptoes to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. Art ran a hand along your spine and woven it into your hair, holding your head where it lay, while the other wound around your waist, anchoring you to him. Even when the sobs reverberated through your frame, he absorbed them, his hold steadfast and strong.
/
After you had calmed down, Art led you to the couch. You told him about what happened. Art listened, not once interrupted you. It was one more person who knew about what you went through, but it was Art. Despite the exposure and sheer vulnerability that you had subjected yourself to, you had never felt safer.
Your eyes drooped, and it started to get harder to disguise your yawn. ARt beckoned you to put your head on his lap, and you didn't fight against it. His hand caressed your hair, drawing all the tension and easing you into a state of repose. You tried to keep your eyes open, so you asked him a question.
"Have you ever felt like … you were an inconvenience to your family?"
His hand slowed on your hair, but it didn't stop. It took him a moment to answer.
"All the time."
Your hand on his knee squeezed, expressing your sympathy.
"Sometimes, I think my parents put me into Mark Rebellato just to get rid of me."
You nuzzled your face against his thigh; the denim felt rough in the right way on your skin.
"I'm sorry. For what it's worth, I don't think you are."
You ended up falling asleep to the feeling of his gentle caress on your hair. Later on, when you were in a different state of consciousness, Art's lap was replaced by a pillow. You faintly heard the sound of dishes running in the kitchen. It was the last thing your head processed before you were pulled back into darkness.
You woke up a while later to the dead silence of the apartment. There was no sound of him. Almost immediately, you were filled with regret and anger for oversharing, for being so carelessly vulnerable to Art, who didn't deserve this burden. You dragged yourself into the kitchen for some water and found that the dishes were cleaned and put away. You felt powerless to a wave of emotions that started to build, and you bit on the insides of your mouth in an attempt to control it. The door to the apartment unlocked, startling you, and Art came through with a bag in hand.
"You're awake."
"You're … back."
You regarded him, your eyes widened in disbelief. He walked around to get to the kitchen, placing the bag on the counter.
"You seem surprised."
Art spared you a look of amusement.
"I thought I sent you running already."
He closed the distance between you and pulled you to him. Art kissed your temple, then placed his chin on your head.
"It'll take much more than that for me to run away."
He let you go, and returned to the bag he brought in with him.
"I bought us some food. I figured you needed something other than that sandwich."
He pointed to the sad plastic box that was still on the counter.
"To be fair, I was planning on doing groceries tomorrow. So, if you could hit the pause on the judgement …"
Every day after that, until school started, you were never apart for too long. Art essentially lived with you and kept you company throughout what would be a lonely week. He showed you his dorm room, which was a neat and clean single. Each day seemed to be better than the last, and it didn't slow down. Life felt like it was yours again. There was a sweet naivety that you possessed, that things could last like this forever as long as you cared for it with all of your heart. But your innocence was the hard-earned lesson that would come back to wreck you.
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taigastyle · 2 years
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januaryembrs · 4 months
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ahhh can I ask for a drabble for sunshine reader x Spence when they're out with the team at a bar or something and reader is obviously a clingy and giggly drunk?
MY BABY'S SWEET AS CAN BE | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader
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description: Spencer's girlfriend loves karaoke when she's drunk, but she loves him even more
length: 1k
warnings: literally just fluff
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He smiled at her unabashedly as she flitted through the crowd, the top of her head bobbing in between other patrons as she shoved through the sea of bodies, and he heard the odd “Excuse me, oh I’m so sorry, excuse me, Sorry-scuse me,” which let him know the mop of hair with two little bows in it was exactly who he thought it was. 
Not that he’d need to try hard to find her, his eyes hadn’t left her all evening. She had a tendency to get upset if they got parted when she’d had a couple to drink, and he hated the look she got on her face when she welled up and felt sorry for herself. 
She burst out the throng, her eyes quickly scanning across the group, and Emily barely had time to hand her a Frozen Daiquiri before she’d launched herself where Spencer leaned against the bar.
“Honey! Oh, I missed you so much,” She said, immediately homing into his waist, her ear pressing against his chest where his heart beat particularly loudly, because whatever affectionate streak she carried on a day to day basis was dialled to one million when she got like this. 
“Baby, I saw you five minutes ago,” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her nevertheless and running his large, warm hand down her spine where her backless dress gave him free rein to feel everything. 
She looked up at him with an aghast stare, “You didn’t miss me, too?” 
“Oh, I never said that, now did I?” Spencer asked, his words sweetened with his smile, and adoration stained every single syllable like coffee over clean breath, “Did you have fun?” 
She giggled, leaning to steal a quick kiss, and her hand brushed over his stomach to pinch the soft pouch of fat gently, “I did! Did you see me, I totally outsang Luke,” 
“For the last time; karaoke is not a contest, we’re supposed to be singing together,” Luke said, his forehead sweaty where he’d pushed through the crowd himself trying to keep up with her as she’d bolted off the stage to get back to her spot tucked under Spencer’s arm. 
She stuck her tongue out at him, rolling her eyes when he gave her a more obscene gesture, and turned back to where Spencer had yet to rip his eyes off her, his pupils dopey and wide and full of puppy love as she looked at him. 
“He’s just mad becaus he wanted to sing Beyonce’s part, and I made him be Shakira,” She said on chuckled breath, “But I think our cover of Beautiful Liar could top charts, like, nationally,”
“Ofcourse, I reckon you could go global if we got you a good agent,” He humoured her, and her eyes lit up with glee, bouncing on the balls of her feet to the point he almost spilled his beer. But he didn’t care, he just loved seeing her so happy. 
“Really! Really, really?” She asked, quickly stealing another adoring kiss from his lips like she could only go so long before she needed another one to fuel her words, like she didn’t even realise she was doing it as there was little to no pause in her end of the conversation. 
“Well, sure,” He said, his mouth interrupted when she pecked him again, and he wondered if she genuinely understood they couldn't kiss and talk at the same time with the way she was going, “But, if my sweet girlfriend becomes a popstar sensation overnight, who’s going to be there when I want to do this?” He said, wrapping an arm around her waist, his fingertips caressing the dip of her back, already knowing which moles sat beneath his touch and where, as he gave her a real kiss, one that made her squeak a little and the sound of it forced an even bigger smile out of him. 
He parted from her reluctantly, and he didn’t even care that he usually didn’t like PDA all too much if it meant she would look so content and glowing, her eyes creasing as she sighed with a besotted expression. Spencer never thought he would get so lucky to have anyone look at him like that, never mind someone who he loved with his whole entire being, and everything else left of him. 
“You raise a good point, my genius love,” She said, pressing her burning face into his sternum, her hands still never leaving where they’d buried into his waist, “I guess I’ll put my debut album on hold and stay to kiss you some more,” 
“Will you guys stop being so disgustingly sweet, it’s making my punch taste sour,” Penelope said, even though the team didn’t seem to mind their soppy exchanges. Spencer sometimes seemed like his old self again when he was with her, something boyish and teasing and loving returning back to his rough hands and exhausted expression, and for that the two of them could rip each other's clothes off for all they cared. 
Because they were one of those couples that made everyone else feel lucky to just see that kind of love so close, not envious or repellent, like finding a fawn sleeping on your doorstep. It was rare and pure and warmed everyone right through to their marrow. 
The two of them smiled at one another, and she leaned in to steal a few more kisses from his lips that tasted faintly of beer, only for another song to start playing and she gasped, her mouth dropping in excitement. 
“I love ABBA, we have to sing this song together!” She said, lacing her fingers with his and tugging his stubborn, lithe figure over to the stage, “Please, Spencer, please, please, please,” 
And he gave her exactly what she wanted, because when could he ever say no to a face like that. 
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moonlight-prose · 1 month
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HEART MADE OF GLASS
a/n: this is totally not to make myself feel better. totally not self indulgent cause i couldn't finish cooking my dinner last night. that gif is also self indulgent. but also hopefully a distraction from how angsty this kind of is. divider as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics.
summary: you couldn't control when they could come. the waves of nothingness - of battling with your body and mind in the hopes it would cause a shift. you wanted to control it. he simply wanted to help.
word count: 1.1k
pairing: logan howlett x reader
warnings: angst, fluff, disassociating, depression isn't outright stated but that's what it is, meat eating (sorry i'm an iron anemic bitch), logan's love language being acts of service.
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The fire alarm never went off when you were in the kitchen. So he felt his heart jump at the sound of it blaring through the small apartment. Even down the hall and in the bathroom he smelled the bitter smoke as it rose from the pan you were currently staring at. A blank expression on your face and hand gripping the handle.
He meant to grab his flannel and join you for dinner. What he didn't expect was the emptiness of a silent kitchen not filled with your usual music. Your soft hums as you try to keep in tune with the song.
Logan's favorite pastime was standing in the doorway watching you cook whatever creation came to mind. Whether it tasted good or positively vile, he'd eat it one way or another. He'd swallow happily with a grin simply to see that smile bloom across your face. A look he did everything possible to keep right where it was meant to be.
"Bub?"
You startled, flinching at the sound of the alarm as you shoved the pan away from the burner. "Shit. Sorry."
A frown etched onto his face at your quick apology—your eyes never quite meeting him. "Everythin' okay?"
"Yeah," you said, lying right through your teeth. "I just got distracted."
Logan could hear the bullshit louder than the alarm. He knew something was wrong, because he'd seen it before. The silence that filled a once loud household. How you slowed down during the day, unable to finish simple tasks without pushing yourself over the edge. He watched you dwindle down to the barest bones your body had to offer and yet you never asked him for help.
You never explained why it occurred.
This wasn't in part because you didn't want to. You did. You simply held no real reason for why your body—your mind—chose to betray you at the oddest of times. At first you figured it was the lack of sleep. The restlessness that ate away at your body each night—keeping you up and active until finally you wore yourself out.
But this wasn't that.
This came from deep inside your chest, lingering beneath the surface—waiting for something good to happen before it struck with a vengeance. This protruded out of your very nightmares.
"Need some help?" He knew the answer before it came. No.
What could he possibly do that you hadn't tried a million times over? There was no easy fix for something this brutal. Silently, you begged him to leave the kitchen and find something else to occupy his time. He stubbornly stood behind you, watching over your shoulder as you dumped the now burned pan in the sink. What might have been a delicious steak now looked like a charred brick.
The sight of it still smoking only seemed to dampen your mood further.
You fought to keep yourself there, in the moment. But the dazed expression from earlier began to slowly trail its way back up your face. Until you could do nothing but stare at the mess you made, exhaustion slicing down to your bones.
His looming presence became an afterthought to all that filtered through your head. All the brittle and vile thoughts you tried to keep at bay. Some days they managed to weasel their way past your infinite walls. Some days...they found joy in tearing you up inside little by little.
Voicing it aloud though would never be an option to the havoc you tried to tame.
"C'mon," he muttered, his hands pulling at your hips to move you. "Out of the kitchen."
"I can finish–"
His glare was devastating.
Most of the time you'd ask him to tell you what he was thinking. Tonight you understood his demand. Get out of the kitchen before you hurt yourself. Let him do what you often did for everyone else.
Give him the chance to put you first.
He points to the chair originally pulled out for him. "Sit down."
But unlike other people he encountered, you were far more stubborn. "I don't–"
"Sit on the chair bub. Or I'll tie you to it." The grin he gives you is filled with sarcasm, but you can see the truth shining in his eyes. He wouldn't hesitate to follow through on a promise like that. He wouldn't even blink. "Your choice."
There was no argument left to throw at him, because his attention was elsewhere. So you sat. You allowed yourself to rest as he stumbled his way through the kitchen. Logan couldn't really cook. He picked up what he could through the life he lived, but nothing came out exactly perfect. That wasn't what warmed your heart at the sight of him standing there intent on delivering a meal worth eating.
He didn't shy away when you tried to push. When the horror that you needed someone to help was no longer a fact you could ignore. No matter how hard you shoved and bit and did what you could to scare him off. Logan pushed back. He quelled your bite with a stature of resolute stoicism.
With an exhale, he flipped the burner off and slid whatever he'd made onto a clean plate. Watching him move felt as if you were being placed in a trance. You almost told him that once in your first week of dating. Something told you he already knew by the way your eyes tracked him from the kitchen to the table.
"Steak," he said, sitting with a grunt.
A quick glance told you one thing. Logan didn't know shit about cooking steak.
You grinned nonetheless.
"There's..." Red spilled down the side, pooling on the plate as steam hit your face. "How long did you cook it?"
He shrugged, slicing it with ease and plopping a piece into his mouth. "Tastes fine to me."
"I'm sure it does."
"Watch it bub," he muttered mid chew, his lips curled into a smirk.
Making a show of zipping your lips shut, you took the piece he offered you. And as he did each time before, you ate it with a grin simply to watch his smirk turn into a smile. There may have been no salt, no extra flavor, and strangely a charred sensation with each bite. But you could taste the love spreading across your tongue with ease.
"Delicious," you garbled in the hopes he'd understand how much you loved him.
He snorted, shoving the plate to the center of the table. His thumb swiped at the juice that leaked from the corner of your mouth, causing your heart to jump erratically in your chest. Even on your bad days he managed to flip the switch in your mind with simple touches and soft looks.
"'M gonna order a pizza."
Leaning into his hand, you pressed a kiss to his wrist. "Thank you."
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lecsainz · 8 months
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˒ ⌕ CUTE MOMENTS
summary: some cute moments if you were dating one of the characters from the riordanverse.
an: my inspiration is running low 😭
( my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )
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˒ ⌕ CLARISSE LA RUE
Clarisse returned to her cabin after a day of training, only to find you cozily wrapped up in her oversized hoodie. The sight made her heart skip a beat. "Hey, that's my hoodie," she grinned, a playful glint in her eyes.
You looked up, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "I hope you don't mind. It's just so comfy."
Clarisse chuckled, walking over to you. "Nah, looks better on you anyway." She slid her arms around your waist, pulling you closer. "Besides, it's not like I mind sharing with my girl."
You blushed at the affectionate words, leaning into her embrace. "You're the best, Clarisse."
"Damn right, I am," she teased, leaning down to steal a quick kiss. "But you make my hoodie look even better. Maybe I should let you borrow it more often."
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˒ ⌕ PERCY JACKSON
Percy returned to his cabin, tired after a day of training and quests. As he entered, he noticed a familiar figure curled up on his bed. It took a moment for him to register, and when he did, a surprised smile crept onto his face.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" he whispered, not wanting to wake you.
You stirred, blinking sleepily at him. "Hey, Percy. I...uh, might have dozed off waiting for you."
He chuckled, finding your presence more delightful than any surprise. "You're adorable when you're asleep, you know that?"
You blushed, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "Sorry for intruding. I'll go back to my cabin."
Percy shook his head, moving closer. "No way. You're staying right here." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back onto the bed. "This is the best surprise ever. I wouldn't want to come back to an empty cabin anyway."
You snuggled into his embrace, feeling completely at ease. "I might have left a surprise for you too."
Percy raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What's that?"
With a sly smile, you pulled out a small bag of blue cookies. "Blue chocolate chip cookies. A little something I whipped up for you."
Percy's eyes lit up, and he grabbed one eagerly. "I love you, you know that?"
Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and Percy's laughter filled the room. He placed a gentle kiss on your blushing cheek.
"I love your cookies and you," he teased, his expression softening. "I mean it, Y/N."
Your heart fluttered at his words, and you replied with a shy smile, "I love you too, Percy."
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˒ ⌕ LEO VALDEZ
Leo couldn't help but grin as you fussed over a small scrape on his arm, your eyes filled with concern.
"Hey, Sunshine, what's with the worried face?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
You sighed, "Leo, you need to take better care of yourself. You're always getting hurt."
"Ah, it's just a little scratch. I'm practically fireproof, babe," he teased.
You rolled your eyes, but your concern persisted. "Seriously, Leo, let me help. I don't want you getting hurt all the time."
Leo's expression softened as he looked into your eyes. "Alright, alright, Nurse Y/N, do your thing."
As you rummaged through a first aid kit, Leo couldn't help but admire how adorable you looked, completely absorbed in caring for him. The thought crossed his mind – he was the luckiest demigod in camp.
When you returned with antiseptic and a bandage, Leo flashed a sly smile. "Does this mean I get a kiss for being a good patient?"
You blushed, trying to hide a smile, and replied, "Leo Valdez, you're impossible."
He winked, "But you love it."
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˒ ⌕ LUKE CASTELLAN
As moonlight spilled across the camp, you emerged from your cabin, a sheepish expression on your face. Luke, who was sitting by the fire, noticed your arrival.
"Hey, couldn't sleep again?" he asked, sensing your restlessness.
You nodded, a slight blush coloring your cheeks. "Yeah, I thought... maybe I could sleep with you tonight? If that's okay."
Luke's eyes lit up, and he patted the space beside him. "Of course, come here."
You settled beside him, feeling the warmth of the fire and the comforting presence of Luke. As you nestled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.
"Much better?" Luke inquired, his voice filled with tenderness.
You nodded, appreciating the security of his embrace. "Thanks for always being here, Luke."
He smiled down at you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Anytime, sweetheart. I love having you in my arms."
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˒ ⌕ ANNABETH CHASE
You were quietly sketching in your notebook, capturing the essence of Annabeth's features with each stroke of your pencil. Lost in the moment, you didn't notice her approaching until she peeked over your shoulder.
"You drawing something interesting?" Annabeth inquired, a hint of curiosity in her eyes.
You looked up, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Maybe," you replied cryptically, revealing the sketch of Annabeth you had been working on.
Annabeth's eyes widened as she saw herself on paper. "You... you drew me?" she asked, a hint of surprise and shyness in her voice.
You looked up, a warm smile on your face. "Guilty as charged. Couldn't resist capturing your beauty on paper."
She blushed, clearly not accustomed to being the subject of someone's artistic attention. "I didn't know you could draw so well."
Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Wise Girl."
Her blush deepened, but she couldn't hide the small smile that played on her lips. "Well, keep drawing, then," she said, feigning nonchalance.
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˒ ⌕ JASON GRACE
You sat in front of your vanity, engrossed in the process of applying makeup. The soft hum of a song played in the background as you carefully blended shades on your eyelids. Unbeknownst to you, Jason lay comfortably on your bed, observing your every move.
"Wow, you really know what you're doing with that stuff," he remarked, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips.
You turned to see him lounging there, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I'm just experimenting. What do you think?"
Jason propped himself up on his elbows. "You don't need any of that to look amazing, you know?"
You felt a blush creep up on your cheeks at his sweet comment. "You're biased."
He chuckled, getting up and walking over to you. "Maybe a little, but you're beautiful with or without makeup."
With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter. "I'm the luckiest guy to have you," he whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss that lingered, leaving you with a warm and fuzzy feeling.
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darthfighter · 3 months
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your shadow
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Part One of Your Shadow series
warnings: some violence & immense tension !!! not too many warnings for this chapter
summary: as you attempt to run away from your past, it seems as though a presence brings the past back at your door.
word count: 1.7k
authors note: the qimir brainrot is so real i decided to publicly post my first ever fic since there is a drought of them for this man. so hopefully you guys like this :’) i plan to make another part to this series soon!! so be on the look out <3
part two here
Olega was supposed to be an escape. A way out. This was supposed to be a safe haven from your suffocating life you had run away from. You were constantly on the run. Finding nothing but remembrance of your past everywhere you settled. There was never a break, just a faint breath at the back of your neck whispering a hot memory of what you try to forget.
Today you thought- a simple task should be all that I tackle today. You didn't want something to weigh you down your shoulders every time you stepped outside as it usually does. But you thought a simple grocery run would be enough.
You walked through the streets of Olega. Vendors left and right. Smells that were salivating to sense here or strong rancid smells that clearly physically took on your appearance there. Fruits here and skinned animals you couldn't name there. It was definitely overwhelming, which in this case you were thankful for. You needed something off of your mind. Finally, you made your way to the vendor selling meiloorun fruit. You grabbed three and put it inside your basket, then gave enough credits to the seller.
The feeling of the fruit under your touch brought you back. Your eyes stung at your defeat. You remembered. The hot days on your homeplanet. Where you and your older brother would play outside in the hot forsaken heat, and your mother would juice her meiloorun fruit that awaited you both when you were done playing. The drink has forever been a comfort to you. Feeling as though, swallowing the juice healed your insides. Physically and mentally.
As you are deep in thought strolling along the street, you bump into a person. But before your fruit can fall out of your basket, you and the person catch the two fruit that flew out, into both of your own hands. Together, frozen in place, you both look at each other. Immediately there is a smile onto your face as the situation is quite funny in itself. As for the person, or now you know as you look at them, the man, is puzzled. He has a face of concentration. Like he is trying to read you. The expression on his face drops your heart to the floor instead. You pick yourself up in front of him and force your shoulders straight, as you were taught.
"I'm sorry about that, that was my fault." You apologize. Although in your head your voice was louder than when it actually came out your throat. You felt small at this moment. And indeed you were.
The man in front of you was covered in sheets of cloth like a robe, with straight black hair with strands in front of his face, and tall. He towered over you. The intimidation was seeping out through your stance. He says no words to your apology. No "It's okay" or "It was my fault." Just dark orbs staring into your apologetic eyes.
"Okay." You mumble, "Sorry, again." You turn your heel as quick as you caught the fruit and start to walk away, until.
"I think you're forgetting something!" He spoke. For the first time.
You turn around to see him still holding the fruit in his hand, that he didn't put in your basket. Embarrassment washes over you and you can feel your ears grow hot. You walk towards him to grab the fruit out of his hand with a shy smile planted on your face, but instead he still locks eyes with you as he drops the fruit into your basket himself. Leaving your hand in the air still.
"You new around here?" The man asked
Your hand is still in the air, you put it down before you answer. "Yes." you replied shortly, feeling the sting of embarrassment continue to course through your body.
He nods in return.
There is an awkward silence between the two of you. Although it feels as though his presence is something you've felt before. Something you recognize. It seems like the two of you sense it, but say nothing.
"I gotta get going. Again, sorry about that."
He says nothing again, just shakes his head up and down with a smirk plastered on his face. He moves to the side swiftly, and bows his head down as a signal of goodbye.
You start to walk away, but the farther you get away from him, the more you realize you have been holding your breath more than you thought. Heavy inhales and exhales left you as you left yourself.
-
When you had made it home, the man's presence lingered behind you like a shadow. You drank your childhood drink still wondering why he stuck to your thoughts. It started to frustrate you to the point you felt the fire in your throat, so you decided to sleep it off. To hopefully wake up in the morning with the encounter faded from your mind.
Hours had passed in your bed and your body sunk into the blankets. Your room was dim with a shadow casting through your blinds from the moons in the sky. Deep in sleep, your hand twitches. You felt something. Something there. With you. It brought you out of your slumber to only wake up to a dark tall silhouette inside your room with you.
The tightness in your chest from fear became so overwhelming you felt frozen. Your elbows rested from the jolt of you waking up, and lifted as the silhouette took a step towards you. The soles of your feet met the cold floor, and force dashed outside your room.
It was the first time you force dashed in years. You thanked Maker that you still knew how to do so. Your heart galloped against your chest as you stood inside your living room.
Waiting for their next move. That move being your bedroom casting a red glow. Ever so slowly, did the stranger walk outside your room beside the red lightsaber in their hand.
A Jedi? You thought. But demolished the idea of it as quickly as it came. Jedi don't attack the unarmed.
Your lightsaber. You knew where it was at. It laid in its case above your bathroom ceiling. You just needed to get past the stranger into the bathroom behind them. Your force dash is the only option that seemed to have the best survival against them. Your heel lifts against the floor and you speed past them in a blink of an eye, but you feel the swift of heat from their lightsaber right behind you. Luckily they miss you, barely. You close and lock the bathroom door. Although you know damn well that wont hold forever.
"And where were you.. all this time."
The modulated voice behind the door sends chills down your spine. You step on top of your toilet to grab a hold of the box above you. Finally, after years of never opening this box again, you take your lightsaber out and light it.
The stranger force pulls the door from their side, leaving you revealed.
You use the stance the Jedi have taught you. Whereas the stranger still lays their lightsaber down to their side while yours rests against your face leaving the purple hue against your complexion.
They stand in front of you, unmoving. You feel the intimidation radiate off yourself, and you decide to do something about it. You strike them and sway your lightsaber towards them. Only for them to block it immediately making both of your lightsabers clash together making a bright white shine as you two clash.
Both of you dance together. Moving both of your feet in sync, both going in a circle. Now their back is facing the bathroom you came out of.
Now this time, they strike. You block and force push them away from you, but it barely does anything. It could either be the fact you haven't used the force in so long. Making you weaker than before. Or the fact they could be more powerful than you thought. In this case, it's both.
You begin to feel your exhaustion take over. Your stamina on using the force is taking a toll on you. You internally curse to yourself in this moment knowing you need to survive. Feeling nothing but failure for all that you were taught, all gone to waste.
Purple and red bounce off of each other in the room. Red comes forward and they charge at you once more. You block with all your energy and the two of you clash together repeatedly making the loud sounds of the lightsabers hurt to listen to. You flinch at the sound, making you weak. Your durability has faded, and you feel disappointment for all that you are.
Your chest heaves up and down from exhaustion, while the stranger stays completely composed. If anything, it fueled you with the anger you needed in this moment. You were revisited with the exact thing you were trying to run from. Feeling as though you fell off of the cliff you tried so hard to climb and rest at. Now, just bruised and wounded.
This time, you strike them and of course they block immediately. The two of you keep your lightsabers against each other in place this time. Sparks of the lightsabers flicker through the air. You look at the helmet before you. Cracks rest on their helmet making you finally take in their appearance. Although there is something of the presence before you that flows through your veins. It feels electrifying, in a way that doesn't resemble the fear you've felt this whole encounter. It's something curious. A curious feeling. The stranger sways their wrist to push your lightsaber away from you, only to push their blade to your arm.
Air escapes your lungs for a few seconds from the pain. You look down to your arm to see that there is a red flame latched onto the cloth of your shirt, with a tear showing your now burnt skin before you. You take a few steps back, swallowing your winces of pain to only look up to see the stranger gone.
Your home became empty with nothing but the sound of your lightsaber humming through the air.
read part two here !
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unreliablesnake · 1 year
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Surprises (Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader)
Summary: Price finds out at a family gathering that his favorite niece's new boyfriend is none other than Ghost. The lieutenant thinks he's in trouble. How bad can things be?
Note: A little fluff and angst. What do you think? / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.
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Simon knew he fucked up the moment he realized you were Price's niece.
The very niece he babysat several times when you were little, the one he talked so much about whenever they were discussing family. He loved you, he was proud of you, and despite you now being an independent young woman, he still treated you as if you were an expensive and rare piece of jewelry that had to be locked away.
So yes, when he attended a family event you invited him to and met the captain there, he knew he was in trouble. You had talked about your Uncle John before, sure, even joked about the two of them possibly knowing each other, but not even in his wildest dream could he suspect the two men being the same.
And now he was sitting there across from him at the long picnic table in the garden, his blue eyes piercing through his skull. Every time you intertwined your fingers with his on top of the table or leaned over to place a soft kiss on his cheek, he could almost hear the annoyed groan leave his lips.
You suddenly rested your head on his shoulder, smiling sweetly when he looked down at you. He couldn't help himself, he just followed his instincts when he leaned down to place a kiss on the crown of your head. That move made the captain snap.
"Simon, why don't you help me bring out some nice, cold drinks?"
He gulped before nodding, his entire body suddenly going rigid from the terror he felt. "Hey, he barks, but doesn't bite. You'll be fine," you assured him as you kissed his shoulder through his shirt.
With a sigh, he stood up and followed Price into the kitchen, carefully closing the door after himself. "Look, Cap, I didn't know she was your niece. I'm sorry. But trust me, I'm serious about this relationship. I really like her," he began to explain the situation without hesitation.
But Price didn't seem interested in his excuses as he was quick to raise a hand to stop him. "I don't care, Simon. She likes you too, it's obvious and she told me before, I just don't want her to suffer if…"
If he dies on the field. That's what he wanted to say, he knew that. Nodding, he leaned against the kitchen island and folded his arms over his chest. The two of them stood there in silence for a while, trying to figure out what to do now. Simon understood why Price was so worried about this relationship, but he also had to understand that he wasn't about to give you up.
"Would you be happier if she was dating a civilian? Some loser who doesn't even know what he wants to do with his life?" he asked to break the silence.
Price drew in a sharp breath that he let out while running a hand through his hair. It was easy to tell he was dying to light a cigar, but his sister had a strict no smoking in the house rule. So he settled with the second best option and began pacing in front of him.
"You, as a person, are not the problem, Simon," he began. "You're a good man, I know that. The problem is our line of work. And the fact I'm your higher-up, and now I have to think about you not only as my right hand, but also as the boyfriend of my favorite niece. Every time I send you somewhere dangerous, I'll have to consider how she would react if something happened to you."
With a loud gulp, Simon considered his reasoning. He was right. Everything he said was understandable. "If you think it would be better if we broke up, just say it," he told him eventually.
There was no response for a while, they stood there in silence once again. But then Price shook his head and extended his hand. "Just make her happy, that's all I'm asking for," he said with a smile. "And don't tell her that we know each other. I don't want her to worry."
Hesitantly, but Simon shook his hand. He had no idea what made the captain change his mind, but he didn't have an issue with that as long as he was okay with him being with you. He then opened the fridge and began to put a selection of drinks on the counter next to it.
Once they made it back to the family, you immediately gave him a worried look, silently asking for a story he wasn't about to give you. So he lied like Price had just asked him to do, even if it hurt like hell.
"Everything's fine, he just wanted to get to know me," he told you with a smile before giving you a quick kiss. "We're good."
"Sure?" you asked with a suspicious look on your face. Simon nodded. "All right, if you say so. I'm glad he likes you," you noted with a smile on your lips.
Before he could say anything, Price raised a hand. "If I might add, you chose well, kiddo," he said with a smile before flashing a smile at the lieutenant.
"I know," you said with a triumphant smile before giving Simon a kiss.
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a-aexotic · 2 years
Note
grumpy!rafe and sunshine!reader where he’s obsessed with her and is so clingy. whatever you want to write about that tbh
pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: fluff!, rafe being mean (towards top LMFAO), mention of parties/drinking.
summary. when reader goes on a girls trip, rafe gets grumpy because his girl is gone because he's alone.
➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫
part 2 !!
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You and Rafe were complete opposites. You two were so contrasting, everyone had questions but neither of you cared. You two were just in your own bubble, not caring about anyone else's opinion.
Rafe didn't like many people but more importantly, he loved close to no one. For a while he guarded his heart so furiously, everyone had just grown used to the fact he was just an asshole. Not you, you broke down those walls the moment you walked into his life.
He immediately liked you. But, he grew to love you. And so did you with him. You changed him as well for the better as well; everyone knew that Rafe became a better person when he got with you.
You had him whipped and he wasn't afraid to admit to anyone.
Rafe was sitting outside by the pool, annoyance filling his body. You were out of town for the weekend and he honestly had nothing to do except sulk around until you eventually came back. He heard the door slide open and he looked over to see Topper.
He groaned out load and sighed. "What do you want?"
"Dude, chill out."
"I am, Topper, your aura is just pissing me off." Rafe argued and Topper let out a laugh, taking a seat in the chair next to him.
"Aura? Dude, are you joking? You've been hanging around Y/N way too much man. It's been a year now and you guys are still in the honeymoon phase."
Rafe's nostrils flared as he turned back to his 'best friend.' "Well it's always the honeymoon phase if you found the right one, Top. You wouldn't know that because there is no right one for you."
Topper rolled his eyes in annoyance but before he could reply, Rafe continued.
"And I don't hang out with Y/N too much. It's a reasonable amount of time."
"Bro, when was the last we actually hung out?"
"Like last weekend dude, chill out. You're acting like I don't ever see you. You're always at my house, man, it's getting exhausting." Rafe sighed before Topper registered what he was saying and nodded.
"Oh, yeah. You're right. That party was awesome last weekend bro, wow. I forgot about it." Topper chuckled to himself and Rafe made a disgusted face.
"Why are you here anyway, Top?" Rafe got up from the chair and started walking inside; he needed a beer after the conversation with Topper.
He followed close behind. "Uh, Sarah was getting me my stuff back."
Rafe couldn't help but laugh to himself as Topper glared at him. "Sorry, man. I thought you were off that train a while ago, you're still on her? It's been like-"
"Dude, you wouldn't understand!"
Rafe heard the door open and the footsteps leading into the kitchen. He immediately put down his beer once he saw your face, a big smile forming on his lips.
"Y/N!"
You walked over to him with a grin playing on your lips as you embraced him tightly. He put his arms around your waist. As you let go he leaned in for a quick kiss on the lips as Topper furrowed his eyebrows in disgust.
"Get a room."
Rafe glared at him. "You realize it's my house, right, Topper?"
You laughed at your boyfriend's sarcasm. "Sorry, Top, you still haven't found a girlfriend?"
"Yeah, man. It's really hard to find a decent girl on this stupid island." Topper ran his hand through his hair, obviously stressed out. You held in a laugh.
Rafe put a hand on Topper's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "You'll find one soon, dude, don't worry. Now, if you don't mind leaving, me and my girl have to catch up."
"Oh, come on, it's been like two days!"
Rafe gave him a stern look before Topper rolled his eyes and groaned, walking away. Rafe faced you and gave you a kiss on your forehead, taking your hand in his.
He led you outside and he took a seat where he was sitting before. He spread his legs so you stand in between them as he grabbed your waist, pulling you in.
"Top's right, Rafe, it has only been-"
"Shhh, let me enjoy this moment."
You found a tiny bit amusing how clingy Rafe was. You took it as a compliment though, you were glad you were one of the only people who have ever had Rafe so whipped for them; maybe even the only one.
He pulled your waist in more and put his head on your stomach, finding comfort in you and your body. He looked up at you with a smile. "Missed you so much babe. I was bored all weekend, I literally only hung out here. But Topper kept annoying me."
You laughed at that, "Topper's your best friend."
"No, you are. He's just the dude I hang around with."
You shook your head. "Stop being mean, I know you care about him a tiny bit."
He rolled his eyes, "like the smallest bit."
You smiled at your boyfriend, putting your hands in his hair as he relaxed. "I missed you, too. So much, I kept saving your snaps because I missed your cute face."
He grumbled at the wording and you couldn't help but laugh again. "I mean, hot face."
He grinned, "that's better."
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incognit0slut · 3 months
Text
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Much Ado About Nothing (Act II, Scene II: The Crazy Idea)
After being cornered by your friends, you find yourself in an even more complicated position due to your impulsive decision.
Part warning: none, just my bad attempt at crack humor Words: 2.6k A/n: If you paid attention, I've been using his gifs from season 9 so the timeline is somewhere along there. And while writing half of this, I realized Emily wasn't even on that season, but for the sake of fanfiction and pure imagination, let's ignore the human error of this stupid author. Thank you. Let me know what you think!!
SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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It took you exactly seven hours and fifteen minutes to finally gather the courage to head to Penelope's lair. The morning had been a blur of paperwork and reports, leaving you mentally drained and chained to your desk. But no matter how much work you plowed through, your mind kept drifting back to last night's disaster and how your friends had planned the whole thing.
Frustration wasn’t enough to describe how you felt. You found yourself gripping your pen so tightly it threatened to snap in your hand, and your fingers pounded the keyboard harder than necessary as you typed out reports.
Eventually, you found yourself daydreaming about ways to get back at them. You imagined a dozen different ways to plot your revenge, each more elaborate than the last, and although it provided a temporary sense of satisfaction, it wasn't enough. 
By the time you wrapped up your last report, your frustration had reached its peak. You decided you couldn't wait any longer. You headed to JJ's desk first, hoping to catch her and get some answers, but it was empty. With no sign of her anywhere and your patience wearing thin, there was only one other person who might have the answers you needed.
You made a beeline for Penelope’s office. The moment her door came into view, you knocked sharply and then entered without waiting for a response. You weren’t surprised when you found Penelope and JJ huddled over a monitor, their heads snapping up in sync at your abrupt entrance.
“There she is!” Penelope exclaimed, turning around in her chair. “We were just talking about you.”
“Oh, really?” you replied, crossing your arms. “I wonder what could possibly be so interesting about me.”
Penelope and JJ exchanged a quick look, barely suppressing their chuckles. 
“How did it go last night?”
You groaned at the memory. “I can’t believe you guys tricked me!”
JJ laughed and turned to you, her expression almost apologetic. “Look, we’re sorry, okay? We just thought it would be…” she looked over at Penelope, trying to come up for a word before settling with, “Fun.”
“Fun?” You exclaimed. “Manipulating your friends into awkward situations is your idea of fun?“
Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “It couldn't have been that bad. Did you guys talk it out?”
You stared at her pointedly as if the idea of you having that conversation with him was absurd.
“No.”
“Did he apologize for anything?”
“No.”
“Come on, there had to be some deep, meaningful conversation,” JJ chimed in, trying to hold back a grin.
You scoffed. “No.”
“Did he walk you home?”
“No—wait, yes, he did,” you admitted, recalling the memory. “But he complained the whole time about how inefficient my route was and how there were, and I quote, statistically shorter paths to my apartment.”
“How sweet of him,” Penelope observed, deciding to ignore the last part of your rant. Then she wiggled her eyebrows. “Did he lean in for a goodnight kiss?”
“What? No!” You sat on the only empty chair in the room, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Nothing happened.”
“Did he at least say something sweet when he walked you home?” Penelope prodded, trying to dig deeper.
You shook your head, a resigned sigh escaping you. “No, because it was nothing like that. We talked, we ate, he walked me home. That’s it.”
“Sounds like the start of something to me.”
“Totally the start of something,” Penelope nodded enthusiastically.
You rolled your eyes. “There’s nothing to start because we can’t even stand each other.”
“Well you know what they say,” Penelope sang. “There’s a thin line between love and hate.”
You narrowed your eyes at her, trying not to show how unnerving her assumptions were. "That's ridiculous."
“But he walked you home,” she pointed out.
“So?”
“So that’s got to be something,” JJ joined in. “Spencer’s not exactly known for going out of his way unless he wants to.”
“He was just being polite,” you insisted, feeling cornered. “He walked me home because my apartment was on the way to his place.”
Penelope tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, on his way, or making a way?”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache brewing. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Maybe he’s being subtle about it,” JJ suggested, trying to sound reasonable. “He’s not that forward when it comes to expressing his feelings.”
“No, guys, it wasn’t anything like that,” you insisted, your voice rising slightly in frustration as your eyes moved between the two of them. The room felt smaller with each passing second, the walls closing in as they stared at you expectantly. They were enjoying this way too much.
“Oh, but it could be,” Penelope persisted. “You’re both single, smart, attractive people who spend a lot of time together.”
“You two are unbelievable.”
“It’s okay, you can tell us,” she continued, her voice softer now as she reached out to pat your hand. “We’re your friends, and if there’s something more, we’d love to support you.”
“Or if you prefer to keep it a secret, we won’t tell anyone.”
“Exactly. You can trust us. We’re really good at keeping secrets.”
“So good.”
“So good.”
Your patience snapped, frustration and pressure boiling over. “Fine! Yes! We’re going on another date!” You blurted out, the lie spilling out in a moment of desperation before you could stop. “Happy now?”
Silence fell over the room as Penelope and JJ stared at you, stunned. Then slowly, realization dawned on their faces, and a chorus of excited squeals filled the air.
“Oh, I knew it!” Penelope exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.
JJ grinned at you. “Really?”
The weight of your words hit you like a cold splash of water.
What had you just done?
“This is so exciting!” Penelope gushed, her enthusiasm mounting. Then she turned to you. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
You suddenly felt a wave of panic. You scanned their faces, seeing only genuine excitement and curiosity, no hint of doubt and discomfort swelling inside you. How could you explain that there was nothing to tell because there was no second date? That it was just a knee-jerk reaction to their relentless teasing? You couldn't possibly confess now, not without making everything infinitely worse.
But how were supposed to tell him? The idea of deceiving not just your friends but also involving Spencer in this lie made you feel sick. The room seemed to spin as you tried to come up with some way to ease the damage.
“I... I wanted it to be a surprise?” You managed to say, although the words sounded more like a question. Your lie felt hollow even to your own ears, but Penelope and JJ seemed to buy it, nodding and exchanging excited glances.
“This is going to be amazing,” Penelope said, practically bouncing in her chair. “So when’s the next date?”
Your mind raced. For there to be a next date, even a pretend one, you needed to talk to him. The realization hit you hard, the full weight of the lie you'd just created sinking in. You'd have to involve him in this deception and the thought made you feel queasy. You imagined the awkward conversation, the look of confusion—and likely frustration—on his face. This was going to be a mess.
You opened your mouth, then closed it, scrambling for a response. “Uh, soon. I-I’ve got to go talk to him about it, actually.”
Penelope’s eyes lit up even more. “Oh, planning it together! That’s so sweet!”
You forced a smile, slowly rising from your seat. “Yeah, super sweet,” you mumbled, your voice barely steady. You could feel your cheeks burning as you stumbled over your lies. “I, uh, better go find him now.”
Without waiting for a response, you bolted out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest. You mentally kicked yourself with every step. You had let them get to you, allowing their teasing to push you into this mess. You couldn’t believe you had let yourself get caught up in this lie.
You paused in the hallway, briefly considering turning back and telling them the truth. The thought lingered for a moment, the idea of ending this charade before it spiraled further out of control. But you quickly shook your head, knowing that backtracking now would only make things worse. You could already imagine how unbearable the teasing and explanations would be.
No, you’ve gone too far to back out now.
Continuing down the hallway, your steps quickened as you searched for him. You finally spotted him by the pantry, absentmindedly pouring too much sugar into his coffee. You walked up to him and leaned against the counter, watching him stir his coffee with more force than necessary.
“I did something stupid,” you blurted out, catching his attention. He looked up before glancing back down at his cup.
“Why am I not surprised?”
“No, listen.” You leaned in closer, lowering your voice. “It’s about last night.”
He finally looked at you, eyebrows raised, clearly surprised as to why you would bring up anything from last night.
“What about last night?” He asked, bringing his cup to his lips.
The words tumbled out in a rush. “I was with JJ and Garcia, and they were teasing me about us, how we supposedly have this… thing going on now. I couldn’t take it anymore. So…” You watched him take a sip of his coffee. “…I told them we’re going on another date.”
He choked, the drink catching in his throat. Coughing, he set the cup down with a sharp clatter, his eyes watering slightly as he regained his composure.
“You told them what?”
“I didn’t know what else to do!” You rushed to explain. “They wouldn’t stop pushing and I just wanted them to shut up. I thought if I said something like that, they’d just leave me alone. But now they expect details, and I… I need your help.”
He took a deep breath, trying to process what you were asking of him. “Let me get this straight. You, of all people, told them we’re going on another date, knowing full well how we—” He paused, searching for the right words. “How we don’t get along. And now you want me to help you keep up this lie?”
You nodded, and he called out your name in frustration.
"Last night wasn't even a date!”
“I know! The words just… came out.” When you saw him shake his head disapprovingly, you let out a groan. “I’m not thrilled about it either, okay? But I’m kind of… desperate here.”
Spencer took another sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving yours. After a moment, he set the cup down, gripping it in his hand.
“No.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “No?”
“No,” he confirmed before turning around, walking back to his desk. “I’m not going to help you.”
You shuffled along, trying to match his pace. “Why not? This could actually get them to stop.”
“Do you even hear yourself? This is crazy. You can’t just spin lies and drag me into them because you want to avoid a little teasing,” he retorted, sitting down and starting to shuffle through some papers on his desk, clearly trying to end the conversation.
“It’s not a little teasing! They’re relentless,” You pressed, leaning against his desk. “Come on, don’t you ever get tired of them trying to set us up?”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to pretend to date you. What’s next? A fake wedding?”
“Don’t be dramatic. We just need to show up together a couple of times, act mildly interested in each other, and then we can break up. We fake it, we tell them it didn’t work out, and we move on. It’s simple.”
“Of course, because nothing says ‘simple’ like faking an entire relationship.”
You crossed your arms and took a deep, calming breath. “Look, I know it’s not the greatest plan, but can you think of a better way to get them off our backs?”
Spencer stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he considered your words. “You realize you’re trying to deceive a team of profilers, right?”
He had a point, but you weren’t about to back down. “Wasn’t this your whole idea in the first place?”
“My idea was for us to act like we get along, not pretend that we’re in love.”
“It doesn’t even have to be convincing,” you argued, leaning in slightly. “Just enough to make them back off for a while. Besides, if you start laying it on too thick, they’ll never believe it. They know you don’t have much experience to begin with.”
Spencer looked offended, his brows knitting together. “I have experience,” he countered. “Just because I’m not flaunting it doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless.”
“Oh, yeah? When was the last time you were in a relationship?”
The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and when you noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, you realized what you had just implied. There was a tensed pause as you both stared at each other. You both knew the answer to that question, and you both knew you were treading dangerous territory.
But before either of you could break the silence, a voice cut through the tension. “What are you two lovebirds fighting about now?”
You turned to see Derek standing by his own desk, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. And then you saw it, an opportunity. If Spencer wasn’t going to agree to help willingly, you were going to take matters into your own hands.
You straightened your shoulders and faced Derek. “We need to tell you something.”
Spencer sensed what you were about to do and quickly stood up. “Wait—“
“Reid and I are dating.”
You heard Spencer take a sharp inhale. There was no turning back. The nerves in your stomach tightened, but you decided to ignore it and focus your attention on Derek instead. His eyes widened in surprise, looking between the two of you.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes,” you said firmly, crossing your arms and standing your ground, while Spencer remained silent beside you, his expression unreadable. “We decided to give it a shot.”
“At dating? As in romantically?”
“I don’t think there’s another way to describe it.”
Derek stared at you both for a moment longer, then his shock gave way to a broad grin. “Finally.” He let out an amused laugh “Took you two long enough.”
He approached with a playful swagger, clapping Spencer on the shoulder and ruffling your hair, which you quickly swatted away. “Can’t say that I’m surprised, but congratulations.”
Spencer looked at you, and you glanced back at him. Derek, oblivious to the tension between you two, grinned widely.
“I guess all that tension was just unresolved passion, huh?”
Your eyes snapped at him. “Morgan!”
“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in mock surrender, still wearing a broad smile. “I’m just happy for you both. Seriously.”
You stared at him, bracing yourself for more teasing, perhaps a joke about what supposedly happened last night, or worse, something embarrassingly inappropriate. But to your surprise, Derek didn’t press further. Instead, he simply nodded with a genuine smile and returned to his desk, resuming his work.
You and Spencer stood there, dumbfounded, not quite sure how to process the sudden shift. You both were so used to his relentless teasing that his quick exit left you momentarily speechless.
You slightly leaned towards him as you continued to stare at Derek hunched over his desk.
“Do you hear that noise?” You whispered.
“What noise?”
“Exactly. This is the sound of peace,” you replied with a slight grin, turning back to Spencer. “See? This is already working. If we keep this up, we can finally get them off our backs.”
“I still think this is a bad idea,” he muttered, giving you a pointed look.
“Do you have a better plan?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m all ears if you do.”
Spencer sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching your face as if weighing the pros and cons. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this…” He trailed off, looking genuinely conflicted. “This is going to backfire, you know that, right?”
Sure, he could be right, but at the same time, you believed this plan was harmless. It seemed like a simple solution: a fake relationship played out convincingly enough to appease your friends. It was supposed to be straightforward—an act, a performance without real consequences. Nothing could go wrong if you controlled the narrative.
You finally looked up at him. “Don’t worry,” you said, trying to sound confident. “It won’t.”
But as the words left your mouth, you realized, you weren't entirely convinced.
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storiesforallfandoms · 11 months
Text
i need someone older ~ william afton;five nights at freddy's
word count: 3794
request?: no
description: after a bad breakup, she finds herself becoming more and more attracted to her much older boss
pairing: william afton x female!reader
warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is mid 20s, afton is 50s), power imbalance technically (but it's fine), bit of an au (so he doesn't unalive anyone in this one)
masterlist (one, two, three)
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I stormed into work, really pushing it for time. I had slept past my alarm and was incredibly reluctant to get out of bed. After the night I had, the last thing I wanted was to work eight hours in a children's restaurant, with screaming kids and the animatronics playing the same three songs all day. But I needed the money, and hopefully a distraction.
"Whoa, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?" my coworker, Adam, asked.
"Fuck off," I muttered. "I gotta go change into my uniform. Can you punch me in so I'm not late?"
"Yeah. Be quick, though. Afton's here."
I rolled my eyes. "He doesn't even know our names. He's not going to know I'm supposed to be on the clock."
I changed as quickly as I could while having limited space in a tiny bathroom stall. I stuffed my clothes into my backpack and did a quick double check in the mirror to make sure I was work appropriate. I wasn't paying enough attention as I stepped out of the bathroom and managed to literally run into someone who was walking past. I cursed under my breath as I looked up and came face to face with the fucking owner of Freddy Fazbear's.
As if this day couldn't get any worse.
"|'m so sorry, Mr. Afton," I said.
"Don't worry about it," he said. "Where's the fire, though? You seem like you're in a hurry."
How do I answer this without getting in shit? "I'm just, uh...trying not to be late. I had to change, and bring my bag to my locker."
William looked down at his watch. I felt my heart starting to pound.
"Cutting it a little close there," he commented.
"I know."
My grip on my bag had tightened as I braced for the worst. I had never met William before. Despite owning the restaurant, he was rarely ever around. Whenever he was, he was usually tucked away in his office for most of the day and only ever spoke with our manager. Due to this, I didn't know if he would be a hard ass who was about to write me up for running late. After the events of the previous night, I didn't think I'd be able to take getting reprimanded today.
He took me by surprise when he smiled and said, "Just don't let it happen again, okay?"
I nodded, unable to form any words, and scurried around him to the lockers.
Adam looked at me when I finally returned to the floor. "What took you so long?"
"I ran into Afton," I responded.
His eyes widened. "Did he give you shit?"
"Luckily no. Just told me not to let it happen again."
"I warned you that he was here."
I flipped Adam off when I was sure none of the kids could see me.
As if my day couldn't get any worse, my manager came to tell me that I was stationed on the prize counter for the day. The prize counter was probably the worst part of the restaurant. There was never any downtime at the counter. Either there was rowdy children hopped up on candy and pizza screaming about wanting toys they didn't have enough tickets for, or there were tired parents wanting to buy tokens for the arcade games while their rowdy kids were nearby screaming. Not to mention it was right next to the main stage, so the sound of screaming children was only matched by the sound of pre-recorded music coming from the animatronics' speakers. And to top it all off, the closing duties for the prize counter took longer than any other section of the restaurant.
It was the worst section to work, and I already wanted to leave just knowing that was my station for the day.
The only plus side was that being kept busy made the day fly by. But the usual craziness of Freddy Fazbear's was extra unbearable to a point where I felt myself on the edge of tears numerous times. I knew it was going to be a bad idea for me to be at work, and I was really regretting coming in.
I let out a sigh of relief as the last family finally left and the animatronics finally powered down. Adam laughed at me as I put my head down on the cool glass that held the prizes. "You're giving yourself more work to do."
I looked at the smudge I had left on the glass before glaring up at him. "I don't think my one smudge is making things any worse."
"Okay seriously, what is up with you? You've been grumpy all day."
I sighed and shook my head. "I had a bad night."
"Do you want me to help you close up so you can get out of here sooner?"
I gave him a look. "We both know you don't actually want that."
"But I'd do it to help you."
"I appreciate it, but I'll be fine. My annoyance and desire to leave will make me work faster."
Adam didn't fight me on it anymore. He said goodnight and clocked out. Once I heard the front door close and lock, I immediately got to work with cleaning. That was the easiest part as all I had to do was clean the glass of the prize case and pick up the discarded tickets from the floor. When I finished that, I started counting the cash in order to close it off. That was supposed to be another easy task, but my mind being anywhere but the task at hand made it so much harder.
Restocking the prizes was the hardest part. I had been on my own for nearly an hour, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted, so I was trying to rush out of there but found myself fumbling a little extra. I was trying to dump a box of tiny soldier toys into their respective bin when the box slipped from my hands and landed on its side, the toys scattering all over the floor.
It was my breaking point. Everything finally came crashing down around me and the flood gates finally opened. I lowered myself to the floor, sitting with my back against the counter. I buried my head into my hands and began to sob.
"Seems like a bit of a strong reaction to dropping some toys."
I jumped and looked towards where the voice had come from. I was sure I was the only one left in the restaurant, everyone else having left while I was doing my closing duties. Even my manager had left, giving me the keys and the code to the security system. But, turns out, I was wrong, because there was William Afton leaning over the counter to look down at me.
I quickly scrambled to my feet, wiping the tears from my face. "S-Sorry Mr. Afton. I-I didn't realize - "
"Hey, it's okay," he said, cutting me off and speaking in a soft voice. "What's going on? You seem stressed."
"It's...personal things. I shouldn't have let it interfere with my work."
"Fuck the professional shit for a second here. Forget I'm your boss, forget we're on the clock. If there's anything going on that you want to talk about, I'm all ears."
I leaned against the counter across from him. "It's stupid."
"You're crying, so I don't think it's that stupid."
I sighed. "My boyfriend broke up with me last night, after admitting he's been cheating on me for the last three months."
William whistled in response. "That's tough."
I nodded. "It just...came out of nowhere. We've been together for three years, moved in together last year. There was no signs that anything was wrong. I didn't even suspect that he was cheating. He came home last night and suddenly told me everything. Packed a bag and went to his...I guess...girlfriend's house. Told me he'd be back at some point this week to get his stuff."
Tears were stinging my eyes again. I looked away so William wouldn't see me cry anymore. Upon looking down, I realized my bare arms were on the glass of the prize counter, leaving smudges again. I cursed under my breath and turned to grab the cleaner again.
"Here, let me," William said, reaching for the cleaner. "You pick up the toy soldiers and I'll help restock the prizes once I finish this."
I was a little shocked, but definitely was not about to argue over getting help. We worked much quicker as a team and, finally, I was able to clock out to leave. I stood by as William set the security system and locked the gates.
"Thank you for helping me," I said.
"You don't have to thank me," he said. "It seemed you needed help, and I wasn't about to let one of my employees struggle while I was on the property." I smiled at him and started for my car. "For what it's worth - " I paused and turned back to him. " - your ex-boyfriend is a fucking idiot. You seem like a great woman. Don't beat yourself up over him."
He smiled and turned to walk towards his own car. I watched him go, surprised by what he said. Even through the cold night air, I could feel my face burning.
~~~~~~
William was around more after that. Not just in his office, but he was actually out on the floor. Everyone was noticing his increased presence, but I found myself noticing it in a different way. Whenever William was near, my eyes were practically glued to him. I found it difficult to concentrate whenever he was around. Luckily, everyone else was so distracted by his presence that they didn't notice how useless I had become.
It was wrong. I knew that. Having a crush on a coworker was bad enough, but a crush on your boss was a whole other level of bad. Especially when your boss is so much older. I had no idea whether or not he was even married or had kids for God's sake!
But every time I saw him, I couldn't stop my heart from racing. I wanted him in a way I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop myself.
During one of my shifts, I was put on the serving section. Serving was easy enough - take orders, bring food, check on tables. The hardest part was trying not to trip over a child running past while carrying a whole pizza on a hot tray. Most of us had learned the art of scanning the area before we walked, but sometimes you just don't notice quick enough and end up surprised by one of those little fuckers.
One of the cooks passed a pizza through the pass to me and told me the table number. I took the tray and balanced it against my shoulder, something I found was the easiest way to balance the bigger trays. The restaurant wasn't too busy, but there were still enough kids running around that I took in my surroundings before I started to walk. I was making a mental note about two kids who were stood by the stage, dancing to the song that Freddy was "singing", and didn't notice another kid who was racing from one of the playrooms in front of me. I stopped suddenly, just short of running into him, but found myself losing my balance after he ran past.
I felt two hands grab hold of my waist, holding me upright and saving me from a very embarrassing scene. When I turned to thank my savior, I came to face the blue eyes I had been trying to desperately to avoid today.
"That could've been a disaster," William said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Th-thank you," I managed to stutter out. I could still feel the heat of his hands against my waist, like they were burning through the clothes and searing my skin. I almost forgot the heavy tray of pizza I was carrying in that moment.
When he let me go, his eyes still trained on me, I quickly turned and hurried to my table. I tried not to seem so flustered, but I knew I had failed. I stuttered through every sentence before finally dismissing myself to the prize counter where one of my other coworkers, Beth, was snickering to herself.
"What was that about?" she asked.
"Don't ask," I responded.
"Oh, I'm asking. Are you all hot and bothered for Afton?!"
"Shh!" I snapped, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one had heard. Not like anyone would over the usual noise of the restaurant.
"Oh, you so are!" she said. "Holy shit, (Y/N), you know that's bad news right? He's literally our boss."
"I know he is. I'm not stupid. But...I can't help it!"
"At least he would be more of a gentleman than that small dick asshole you call your ex." She looked over her shoulder as the front door to the pizzeria opened. When she looked back, her eyes were wide. "Speak of the devil."
I looked over to see none other than the small dick asshole himself, Josh, walking in. I wished I could disappear into the floor and never be seen again. I tried to turn and walk away before he spotted me, but no luck.
"(Y/N)!"
I groaned and turned back to him. "What do you want, Josh?"
"I was just over getting the last of my stuff - "
"Awesome, I do not care. If you've come to give me your key back, you could've just left it on the dining room table."
"No, I came to say that I couldn't find my Springsteen album."
I furrowed my eyebrows and crossed my arms. "So you came all this way to...what? Ask me what I did with it? I have no idea, Josh, I threw everything that was yours into boxes and garbage bags. If it's not in there, you might've left it in your car or at your new girlfriend's house."
"It's not any of those places." I wasn't sure if I should've been hurt about the fact that he wasn't addressing my last comment directly, but I definitely was a little bit.
"What do you want me to do about it?"
"I wanted to see when you were going to be off work and maybe I could come by to look for it with you."
I scoffed. "Are you serious right now? Josh, I don't know what the fuck happened to your album, but you're sure as hell not coming over to the house. That is not your place anymore, and you're very much not welcome there."
"Why can't we be adults about this?"
"You lost the right to being adult about this the second you decided to cheat on me! And how dare you say that shit, but then come down to my place of work to try and, what, harass me into letting you back into my home? We're over, Josh. I don't ever want to see you again. If I find any of your shit left at the house, I'll drop it in the trash."
"What seems to be the problem here?"
I suppressed the urge to groan again. As if things couldn't get any more complicated.
"No problem, Mr. Afton," I said, turning to face William with the best, innocent smile I could muster. "Just an...unwelcome guest."
William looked at me for a moment before letting his eyes wander to Josh. I didn't have to say much else for him to recognize who the "unwelcome guest" was and I could see anger in his eyes.
"Well, time to get back to work, (Y/N)," he said to me. "Your customers are waiting."
I nodded and ducked away from the situation. As I walked away, Josh called after me, "That's fine, I'll be waiting for you to get off! We can talk more then!"
"Like hell you will."
A collective gasp from the parents and Beth cause me to spin around to see William had grabbed hold of the collar of Josh's shirt. William was easily a head taller than Josh, so even if the act wasn't meant to be intimidating, he definitely looked intimidating. I don't think I've ever seen such fear on Josh's face. William turned Josh around and basically dragged him towards the front door.
"If I see you back here, I will have your ass arrested," he said as he threw Josh out of the restaurant. "Are we clear, punk?"
He didn't wait for a response as he pulled the door shut. I could see Josh standing there, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. William re-entered the main area, still looking angry, but tried to put on his best customer service smile as he addressed his new crowd. "Sorry everyone. Just an unruly customer. Sorry for any trouble."
To me he added, "Come see me in my office, please."
Beth and I exchanged a look before I followed William towards his office. I was so sure he was going to get upset with me. Not only had I brought my personal shit to the restaurant (even though that wasn't my fault), but it had also resulted in a not so great scene in front of the customers. People get to talking, and I was sure that this story was going to be spread through town before the night was out.
The moment I stepped into his office, I set in on the apologies. "Mr. Afton, I'm so sorry about that. I had no idea he was coming. I've been trying to avoid him while he's moving his stuff out and I guess he was getting tired of that or wanted to poke me one last time or something - "
"Did he hurt you?"
I paused my rambling to look up at him. All anger was gone from his face and had instead been replaced by concern.
"What?" I asked.
"Did he do anything to you just then?"
I shrugged. "Not physically. He was definitely still trying to mess with me mentally, though."
William nodded. "Well, he's not welcome on the property anymore. If you see him, you have my full permission to contact the police immediately."
"I...I don't think that's entirely necessary."
"I don't mean to sound like an old man or anything, but I've met plenty of assholes like your ex, (Y/N). You give them an inch and they take a mile. If you don't deal with this now, he will continue to come back and harass you. I don't want that for you. You don't deserve that."
I opened my mouth to say something else, but nothing came out. I was realizing how close we were now. We were mere inches away from one another. If I wanted to, I could just reach out and touch him right now; grab him. I could've kissed him right then and there if I really wanted to. Who would've known?
As if reading my mind, William suddenly reached out and cupped my face. Before I could comprehend what was happening, his lips were on mine. It was kind of ironic, the fact that I had just been thinking about doing this exact thing, but now that it was happening it was like my brain wasn't sure how to comprehend the situation.
William pulled away just as quickly as he had initiated the kiss. He backed away from me, suddenly worried. "I'm so sorry. I...I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have done that."
In response, I pretty well threw myself at him. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with such force that it pushed him back into his desk. He positioned himself so that he was sat on his desk and basically pulled me into his lap. It was risky, anyone could've come by and caught us, but something about that just made the experience so much better; so much hotter.
William pulled away first again. I tried to chase his lips with mine, but he pushed me back, chuckling at my eagerness.
"Hold on," he said. "There's some things we have to discuss before this goes any further."
"Please don't tell me you're married," I said.
He laughed. "No, I'm not married. Divorced with a 10 year old daughter. That was the first thing I wanted to discuss, in case single dad is a dealbreaker."
"Very much not a dealbreaker."
"So...the age thing is also not a dealbreaker then?"
I shook my head. "If anything, I think that makes it kinda hotter."
A grin spread on his face. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. But there is the big issue of the fact that I'm your boss."
It felt like I had been shoved off of cloud nine and come crashing down to earth. For a moment, I had forgotten that part. He was right, that was the biggest issue here. Kind of hard to get around it unless I ended up quitting, which I really did not want to do. It was nearly impossible to find a good paying job these days, and I needed this now more than ever since Josh wasn't going to be splitting rent with me anymore.
I climbed off of William's lap and stood across from him. "I guess...that is a big issue, huh?"
"I just don't want you to feel pressured into anything, and I don't want anyone to look at you any different because you're dating the boss."
I raised a playful eyebrow at him. "You jumped to dating pretty quickly there."
His smile was a little more bashful. "What can I say? I'm old school. I don't believe in hooking up or anything like that. If there's anything going on here, I want you to be able to classify it as a relationship."
In that moment, I found myself wondering why I hadn't always dated older men. I had wasted so much of my time on guys my age when I could've been dating someone who was actually a gentleman and cared about me and my feelings.
"Why don't we see where things go with this, and then we can tackle that big elephant in the room?" I asked.
"I think I can agree to that."
I took a step closer and said, "I really want to kiss you again, though."
He laughed and met me halfway, standing from his desk and taking my face in his hands again. When he kissed me, I felt like I was flying right back on to cloud nine.
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tldrthor · 28 days
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The Princess (and the chaos she brings with her) - steve rogers x fem!reader (1/?)
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Summary: when Thor asked the avengers to guard a dear friend of his, they didn't think twice before saying yes. What they didn't know was that said friend is the princess of one of the nine realms, and a lost love of one Captain Rogers.
Part 1 // I thought you were dead // word count: 3.5k
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"(y/n), you have to eject, right now!" Steve screamed over the torrents of wind whistling through the ship. Schmidt was dead, gone. So was the tesseract. But it wasn't over yet. "I have to put her in the water!"
The girl behind him widened her eyes, battling against the elements to reach him. "There's no world in which I let you do that, Captain!"
"I'm not asking for permission!"
"Well then, I guess we go down together!" She painstakingly made her way to him, every step a feat of strength. Her previously neatly pinned curls no longer even resembled what they once were as her hair whipped around her face.
As Steve turned to face her, she somehow still looked angelic. He felt that right now, she was more heavenly than ever. He couldn't let her die with him.
"Buckle in." He commanded, as they began their quick descent. He looked at her, the first woman who had ever made him feel seen, the only person he had ever met who was as crazy as he was.
As the ice flew closer, he turned and placed a hand tenderly on her face. Tears welled in his eyes as his mind wandered to the future they could've had. God, they could have been amazing.
"I'm sorry, (y/n)." He whispered. She could only just hear it, even though they were right next to each other.
He pulled the yellow ejection lever on the seat she had just buckled herself into, watching as her eyes widened. "No! Steve, no!" She lifted her hands to stop him, to jam the lever, anything to stay with him. She wasn't quick enough.
Steve closed his eyes as her seat was ejected, hearing her scream his name. There was no world where he allowed her to go down with him, and he trusted that wherever she ended up, Stark and Peggy would find her. He hoped they would be able to find him, too.
He hadn't prayed in a long time, but as he went down, he bargained with God for her safety.
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"It is my honour to introduce the new and improved Captain America and the Howling Commandos exhibit, in honour of the 100th birthday of Captain Steven Grant Rogers." The crowd clapped as the senator stepped off the podium, motioning for Steve to take the mic. Bucky and Sam laughed at how uncomfortable the Captain was as he stood thanking everyone for an exhibit he never wanted. All part of the job, he supposed.
After the handshakes, and the photo ops, and the autographs and the meet and greets, the boys finally got relative peace to wander around the new exhibition.
"I can't believe you used to wear these stupid suits." Sam laughed, standing in front of the main exhibit. Bucky sighed, budging Sam's shoulder. "Says the asshole who wears a bird suit to fight." He retorts.
Steve laughed at his friends antics, but walked away when he noticed an addition to the exhibit he hadn't seen before. He stared, wide eyed at the name in front of him.
(Y/N): THE MISSING HERO?
Steve found himself drinking in every inch of the gorgeous photo underneath the text, her bright smile and barely visible freckles. The lighting highlighted the different hues in her immaculately pinned hair. She looked just like an angel, as she always did in real life.
Steve looked down, forlorn eyes investigating very few artefacts in the glass exhibit. Her folded uniform, found in her room after the plane went down. The blush lipstick you wore every day. Finally, an object that Steve didn't recognise. A golden ring, encrusted in unidentified jewels and a family crest no one knew. He frowned.
He had known her only a short few months, but he regretted never asking about her family. And now, it would haunt him that he never did until his last breath.
"They never found her, huh?" Bucky placed his covered hand on Steve's shoulder, a sadness tinged in his voice. He had only met (y/n) briefly, but he knew even then that Steve's heart rested in the palm of that woman's hand.
He had asked about her, once, but the look on Steve's face when her name was mentioned told him everything he needed to know.
"No. Howard searched for years, found nothing. Turned out that she had lied on her intake forms for the SSR, too. We don't even know if (y/n) was really her name." He took a beat. "We have no idea if she survived or not."
Steve didn't have to make the subtext clear, Bucky knew he worried that he had killed her by ejecting her from that plane. Bucky also knew there was no sense in trying to tell him she would have died either way, that the ice would've killed her.
"You okay?" Bucky asked, after another few moments of silence.
Steve nodded, looking at the photo. "I'm glad she's remembered. I just wish I didn't have so many unanswered questions."
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"So," Tony started. "Thor is arriving with the guest of honour later today, who we have agreed to protect here for the meantime. We don't have a lot of background for this one. The dark elves are the ones we're protecting her against, but Thor said threat could come from many areas. Do we have any questions?"
The team looked nothing short of bored. Well, most of them. Cap always had the good grace to sit up and look interested. Scott was straight up asleep.
"Is she important? How long will she be staying with us?" Steve asked.
"No idea, and uh, no idea. Anything else?"
"Is she single?" Sam asked, earning a laugh from some of the others. Steve shook his head disapprovingly, but smiled at his friend's levity.
As Steve stood up to go back to training, FRIDAY sounded around the room. "Excuse me everyone, my satellites have detected a bifrost signal heading for the compound imminently."
"Speak of the devil!" Tony clapped his hands as everyone headed out to the bifrost landing site (something that had been instituted after Tony's lawn got scorched one too many times).
Bucky smacked Scott upside the head to wake him up with a jolt. "Oh, where are you guys going?" He called behind them, jogging to catch up. Steve waited behind from him, laughing at his groggy friend.
A bright light connected with the grass just beside the landing site. Tony's hands covered his eyes as he mouthed are you fucking kidding me. When the light cleared, Thor stood tall in his usual armour.
"My friends!" His voice boomed, "I present to you, my fellow avengers, the honourable princess of Alfheim, jewel of the Alfar and ambassador to Asgard." Thor's voice boomed through the halls of the compound. "This is my friend, (y/n)."
Beside Thor stood a girl. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with a heavenly stature. She looked like she could have been carved from marble by the hands of God himself.
A light Asgardian pink dress was covered by a golden chest-plate which fit her body like it had been moulded just for her. It was covered in intricate etchings of suns and stars, which caught the light and shone brilliantly. She wore golden jewellery, which was nothing like the avengers had ever seen. Golden ear cuffs covered her pointed ears, with her long hair pulled into an up-do, emphasising the golden, bejewelled tiara on her head.
"Princess?" Sam squeaked. Wanda smacked him, with a look that screamed don't embarrass us.
Tony tilted his head in confusion at the guest, who he could almost swear he recognised from somewhere. "Thor, you did not inform us that we were looking after the ruler of a planet. We would have been more prepared."
"I am not ruler yet, Mr. Stark." The girl cast her eyes up at Tony, as she smiled sweetly. Her voice was honey smooth, and anyone who heard it felt themselves being charmed by it. "I have heard much about you all from Thor."
"Should we bow?" Bruce whispered to Tony, who shrugged his shoulders. Thankfully, (y/n) took the lead and shook each of their hands.
She looked around at each of the gathered avengers. Thor made his introductions to the rest of the group. "Where are the others?" Thor enquired.
"Here!" Steve smiled at the site of his old friend, his view of the princess obscured by the large man. Bucky and Scott tagged behind him, also happily greeting Thor.
"Captain, it is very good to see you. Please, let me introduce you to the Princess (y/n)." Thor stepped aside to introduce them, but his eyebrows knitted together in confusion when neither of them moved, almost frozen in place.
"Uh... hi." Scott side-stepped the Captain and caught the eye of their guest. "My name's Scott Lang."
The girl tore her eyes away from the captain, unsure really on what to do. But her training kicked in, knowing that being rude was one of the worst sins a princess could commit. "Hello, Mr. Lang. I am (y/n)."
"Holy shit." Bucky breathed out.
The rest of the avengers watched the rather silent exchange with confusion. It was very unlike Steve to get so tongue-tied, and he would never be so rude as to not introduce himself.
"Captain Rogers..." The girl spoke first, confusing them further. "I believed you dead." Tears had welled in her eyes, intriguing the observing crowd even more.
"I thought you were dead." He breathed. "What... what is going on?"
Bucky interjected. "Um, hi. I'm Bucky, we met briefly in '45."
She smiled softly at him, but her eyes betrayed her confusion. "Sergeant Barnes, of course! Didn't you... also die?"
"Yeah, we've all got a lot of explaining to do." Bucky laughed as the absurdity of the situation caught up to him.
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Thor's eyes darted between his friend and the captain. When Thor asked the avengers to guard her from the war on Alfheim, he knew some hijinks would ensue. This is not what he expected. He knew you had spent some time on Midgard before and when you returned you were emotionally distraught. He had simply figured the war you had fought with the Midgardians had taken it's toll.
He eyed both the Captain and you, suspiciously. You were his dear friend, but you had never talked to him about any mortal love.
"So, Princess. You've been here before." Tony enquired.
The Princess licked her lips nervously, glancing at Steve, who had barely moved a muscle, his eyebrows furrowed. "Yes, Mr. Stark. I spent some time here during the second world war. I left Midgard when Johann Schmidt was defeated, and haven't returned since."
"Tell us about your world, Princess. I've never heard of it before." Natasha, the red-head in the corner, asked the guest.
"You have heard of it before." The princess smiled, explaining. "I believe we are now known as a fantasy character here - you call us elves." She pointed to her pointed ears as each avenger clung to her words.
Thor smiled at his Midgardian friends' curiosity.
"The Alfar still live amongst you, they are simply unseen. I believe you may know Tolkien?" At the mention of the author's name, everyone's ears pricked. "He was one of my father's greatest friends and many of his book settings were inspired by Alfheim."
"What!" Scott exclaimed. "That's insane."
"Really, Ant Man?" Bucky responded, pointing out that they were all ridiculous, when you thought about it. The world was crazy now.
The princess chuckled, and rose from her seat at the conference table. "Thank you very much for your hospitality, Avengers. I would quite like to rest in my chambers, if you would be so gracious to allow me."
"Um, yeah... consider yourself allowed." Tony stumbled over his words. Very unusual for him, and it did not go unnoticed by the others. "Dinner is at seven."
"Thank you, Mr. Stark. Captain Rogers," She addressed the Captain, who looked up quickly. His face was pale, and he nervously twiddled his thumbs. "Would you be so kind as to show me my rooms?"
He popped up, almost comedically fast. "Yes. Yeah, sure. Um, this way." He walked out quickly, darting his eyes back to make sure the princess was following him.
She followed, gracefully. Her skirts fanned out behind her as she walked. The avengers in the room could scarcely take their eyes off her as she faded from sight.
As soon as the door closed behind them, the room devolved into chaos. People shouting theories and questions left, right and centre. Mostly, everyone was just bewildered. Bucky and Thor discussed how they had both known the couple separately, and whether each had talked about the other.
Natasha watched as Tony sat quietly on his tablet for a few seconds, searching for something she could only assume was relevant to the discussion at hand.
"Bucky, what's the deal there?" Clint asked.
He was interrupted by Tony. "Aha!" Stark called, silencing the room. "I knew I recognised her from somewhere."
He projected a photograph to the wall, and the avengers gasped.
The photograph consisted of Steve and Bucky front and centre. Bucky had his left arm wrapped lazily around Tony's dad, Howard. And Steve was looking directly at the girl next to him, holding her to him by the waist. It was the princess. The gaze he looked at her with... it was like nothing they had ever seen from him.
"They didn't just know each other, they were in love." Bucky replied to Clint's question, a hint of sadness underneath his words.
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(Y/n) followed Steve along the large corridors of the compound, her smaller legs working double time to match his long strides. They walked in silence, for the most part. It wasn't the comfortable kind.
"Captain." She spoke first, again. As she called for him, he stopped walking abruptly, turning slowly. He met her gaze and then cast his eye down.
"(y/n)... I mean, um, Princess." He responded.
"(y/n) is sufficient." She whispered, almost guiltily. "I can't believe you're alive..."
"I can't believe you're alive," He retorted. "I searched for you, when I woke up. They couldn't find any records of you other than your enlistment form, and they found you had lied. People think you're just a ghost story..."
He took a breath. "I can't believe you're here and... an alien princess?"
"I know it's hard to believe, I hope you understand why I couldn't tell you back then." She laughed. "When I found that you and Sergeant Barnes were dead, I couldn't face being here anymore... I returned to Alfheim."
As she thought back on it, a tear sprung to her eye. On seeing her reaction, Steve couldn't help himself but place a friendly hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles. She briefly froze at the contact, but quickly, she moved her own hand down his arm until she was holding onto his hand with both of hers.
So much went unsaid, but the contact confirmed what they had both most desperately wanted to know. Would it be the same?
"If I had known that you and Sergeant Barnes were alive, Captain..." She admitted. "I would have returned in an instant, I give you my word."
He smiled, rubbing a thumb over the back of her hand. A red blush hugged her cheeks as he did so.
It was typical of him that he couldn't concentrate on the moment, "Why are you here?" He asked. "What are we protecting you from?"
She sighed. "The Svartalfar, or the dark elves. You may know them - they attacked Thor in the Midgardian city of London some years ago now." He nodded in recognition.
"They are determined to conquer Alfheim, and have set their sights on my family. They have already managed to get close to killing me."
She pushed the collar of her dress down, showing a large, angry, red scar just above her collarbone. His hands flew up to trace the scar. She gulped at the close contact, her eyes meeting his.
His expression gave away his concern, knowing that Thor had suggested she was in a lot of danger. "Don't worry, Princess. You're safe here." He smiled, softly. "We'll protect you with everything we've got."
"Thank you, Captain."
"It's just Steve." He unhooked their hands, and gave her his arm. She linked her arm in his, and he resumed wandering down the halls to her rooms. "Do you have any bags?"
"No, I fled to Asgard with nothing when I needed healing. The Asgardians were kind enough to offer many gorgeous clothes for me to bring, but I figured they were a bit conspicuous."
Steve laughed, "Yeah, they might be."
They walked for a little while longer, before Steve entered a room to the side. It was rather basic compared to what she was used to, but it would more than suffice for the meantime.
"This is your room." He stood by the door as she entered. "I'm just down the hall if you need anything. I'll get Tony to send you some less conspicuous clothes. See you at dinner."
"Thank you, Steven." He laughed at her inability to be too informal with him. He nodded at her, and turned to walk down the hall to his room.
As he entered, the photograph of her from the Smithsonian caught his eye from the nightstand. He picked it up, tracing her features with his finger - unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. Who would've thought? Not only was his girl alive, she was also alien royalty. Sometimes, just sometimes, he adored his strange, strange world.
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"Sir," The agent walked into the dark room with purpose in her every step. "The Princess has been spotted."
The man in the chair looked up at the mention of his target. "Show me" he ordered. He watched as agent transferred the images on her tablet to the big screen, showing grainy, far away surveillance of the avengers compound.
As low quality as the image was, the woman arriving with Thor in the distinctive Alfar dress and armour was certainly the princess.
"Oh, my dear..." The man's deep voice dragged out. "You have walked right into our sights."
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a/n: let me know what you think! if you can't tell, this is basically the set up for a longer series... i'm really excited to explore this character and get deeper into the relationships!
i've never really written in the third person POV before, so let me know if it's something you like or not, and i can switch for the next part.
please like/reblog if you enjoy! let me know if you would like to be tagged in the next part <3
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vanilladove · 10 months
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❤︎ ₊ ⊹ get free (2/3)
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pic creds luvpngs | gif creds akashi-tetsuki
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: asylum patient!nikolai x asylum attendant!fem!reader
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: smut w/ plot + some dark elements; 18+ only pls!
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: smut/nsfw, slight mentions of torture + drugging, manipulation, violence/abuse, unhealthy relationships, infidelity (mutual😋), slightly yandere!delulu!mean! :( nikolai, dubious consent
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: your asylum patient has been taken in for questioning, and you learn a shocking fact. however, after an emergency call, you're left alone with nikolai again. dangerous? yes. but even more, tempting... ˚₊‧꒰ა read pt 1 & pt 3 & bonus (bad ending) ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ word count: 7.1k
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His heterochromatic eyes were boring into your soul.
Well, not really. It wasn't like he could see you through the one-way privacy glass of the interrogation room, even though you could still see every expression on your patient's face.
Still clutching his book, you sat next to the security guard on a bench outside the room. You could feel the pit in your stomach get deeper with each minute, anxiously waiting for the boss to arrive.
We were definitely caught. What's going to happen now? To me? To Niko--
"Sorry for the wait. I hope it wasn't too long, dear." You looked up shakily as you heard a familiar sigh from your husband.
You were just about to confess everything then and there until you looked up at his face, which was surprisingly calm and almost...concerned? Your husband reached down to hold your hand, "He didn't hurt you, did he? I can't believe you had to watch over a monster like that. Seriously, who would've known Gogol would put on a whole act. I--" You tuned out his words after that, completely confused. What was he rambling on about? Was Nikolai actually right about the camera blind spot?
Calm down. Just act oblivious.
"Wha-what are you talking about? What's going on?" You questioned, trying not to sound suspicious. Your partner stopped his rant, shooting a quick look at the guard, who raised his eyebrows and got up to leave the leather bench. Your husband took a seat next to you, clasping his hands together and looking down at the floor.
"For five weeks, we've been finding pills randomly in different trash cans throughout the facility. I thought it was an accident at first, but then I remembered that Gogol was admitted five weeks ago, and the pills that were thrown away were the same ones being administered to him."
"So? Was it really necessary to do all this? We've dealt with uncooperative patients before." You glanced back at the glass screen, jumping a bit when you saw Nikolai up against the glass, his hands pressed on the surface and gazing at you intensely. He had an unnerving smile on his face and was waving at you like a child. You shivered lightly, trying not to scream out in shock, causing your husband to look up in your direction.
"Tch. That wasn't all; there was this letter, too." He said, unfolding a piece of paper and handing it to you, roughly turning your head around--away from Nikolai--and hitting the glass with a glare.
You stared at the letter confusedly, looking at the mix of Russian, Ukrainian, and some sort of secret code. "What's this supposed to mean?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out. Translators couldn't decode it at all. All they made out was that it was addressed to a 'Dos' and mentioned the facility, someone named 'Dove', and 'escaping'". Your eyes widened at that. Nikolai wrote a letter to someone? But when? Who were "Dos" and "Dove"? Wait, was that supposed to be...
Your husband standing up interrupted your thoughts. "Anyways, I'm going to get him to fess up. He's clearly plotting something. Can't trust a global terrorist." He gripped your hand tightly, unlocking the door and dragging you into the interrogation room, several guards trailing in behind you.
Nikolai gazed up excitedly at you once you walked in, only to be held back by several guards and restrained by a strap harness. Upon noticing that, your husband stepped in front of you--a measly attempt at covering you from Nikolai's gaze--and spoke sternly. The jester frowned in response.
"Gogol, do you want to explain why you've been throwing away your prescriptions across the facility?" Nikolai only tilted his head cutely to the side, trying to move to see you.
"My meds? Well, it's quite obvious, actually," he smiled tauntingly, "I don't need them. I'm perfectly sane. Ask your wife if you don't believe me." The boss clenched his fists at that and signaled for the guards to point their guns at Nikolai's head, making him laugh mockingly.
"Fucking freak. You're far from it..." Your husband muttered under his breath, reaching for the letter in his lab coat and unrolling it in front of Nikolai, whose eyes lit up upon seeing it. "We found this in the mailing room. Care to translate it? Who're 'Dos' and 'Dove'? Two of your criminal accomplices? And you mentioned 'escaping'? Hah. You don't really think you could leave one of the world's most secured facilities, do you?"
You cringed at that. You could tell he was trying to intimidate Nikolai, but it clearly wasn't working; the jester only yawned boredly in response.
Sighing, Nikolai answered, "Dos is a dear friend of mine--no, maybe my only one--and Dove..." he paused to stare intensely into your fleeting eyes, "Dove is my lover. I want to escape with her." His eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled at you.
You felt your heart skip a beat at his comment, putting together that "Dove" was you. Making you Kolya's...lover? You blushed at that, not hearing your husband's angry scream or seeing him stomp up to Nikolai and grab his shirt roughly, shaking him and demanding to know the content of the letter.
"Hmmmm....what my letter says? Who knows? I guess I must have wrote it in a frenzy, y'know, because I'm crazy and deranged." Nikolai said, the old dark, unreadable look in his eyes. "Say, can I have lunch first? I'm hungry and can't think straight."
Your husband lost it at that, winding up and punching Nikolai across the face, shocking the guards. Now back to the present, you ran to Nikolai, pulling your spouse back and yelling at him.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing? Losing your cool and punching a patient? Just let it g--"
CRASH!
A sharp pain hit your stomach and lower back as you felt a blow to your front, causing you to collide with a chair behind you. You wheezed from the impact, looking up to see your husband breathing raggedly, his hands coiled into fists, and Nikolai with widened eyes full of concern.
"Dove!" Nikolai yelled out, regretting it instantly when your husband glared at him; the pieces clicking in his head. The security guard from the library rushed to your side, helping you up and guiding you out of the room. You tried to resist, but it was hard with your head throbbing from banging against the chair. All you could hear faintly before being dragged out was your husband threatening Nikolai more for answers.
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You sat with an ice pack on the bench outside, head still spinning. Struggling to keep your eyes open, you peaked into the glass window. However, before you could look in, a bright, blinding light flashed, followed by a maniacal laugh from…Nikolai?
Electroshock treatment. Were they trying to get a confession out of him?
You could only cover your ears as the laughter got louder, mixed in with his occasional tortuous screams and angry shouts from your husband. Pressing yourself further into the bench and wall, the strong scent of artificial peony attacked your senses, forcing you to look up and meet Lacey's eyes. What was she doing here? Did she just come out of the interrogation room?
"Miss, I have some news for you," You peaked your head out of your arm enclosure, uncovering your ears and looking at her, "You're off for tomorrow. Gogol's been declared a dangerous threat, so he's going to be handed off to the boss and security. You'll be seeing your normal patients again, so please take the time in between off. I'm sure today was traumatizing for you." Lacey held your hand, stroking it like she was trying to console you. You could see the forced pity in her eyes; she was just one of your husband's loyal subordinates, after all. Knowing it was fake, you stood up and slapped her hand away, wobbling from your balance being thrown off.
"Thanks, Lacey. I'll try to relax a little." You turned away before pausing, feeling lightheaded, “You wouldn’t mind walking me to my office, would you? I need to grab my stuff first.” Lacey nodded, throwing your arm around her shoulder and helping you walk unsteadily towards your office. Even though the noises of torture and occasional bright flashes in the background made your stomach churn, and you really just wanted to run back and save Nikolai, you could barely stand up straight in your current state. You were going to process your thoughts, get an ice pack and some painkillers, and wait it out away from the scene.
You couldn’t leave yet. You had to see Nikolai one more time before you left.
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It had been eight hours since the interrogation room incident. Luckily the painkillers had knocked you out, so you'd just woken up from a peaceful nap on your office couch. Fixing up your hair and appearance, you picked up your phone and squinted from the lighting.
11:47 PM.
Everyone except for security had gone home for the night. You checked your notifications but saw nothing from your husband. No sort of apology, check-in, or questioning to ask you why you weren't home yet. What could you really expect, though? This was the man who'd just hit you at work in front of others. Feeling sick from remembering the day's events, you forced your phone back into your dress pocket and walked out of your office. Moving cautiously to not get caught, you headed towards the white ward.
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Scanning your key slowly, you walked into Nikolai's room. There weren't any guards present, likely since they assumed he'd been immobilized from the electroshock treatment--there was no doubt the boss had gone overboard with his torture.
After you quietly shut the door behind you, you made your way to the bed carefully, reaching around in the dark room. Your hand finally found the night lamp on the dresser, reaching around to find the switch. Chills ran down your spine as you felt cold fingers brush against your hand and lead you to it. The dim light turned on and illuminated the figure next to you.
"Dove? You came back for me?"
You almost jumped back after hearing Nikolai's hoarse voice. The warm light enveloped him, the shadows reflecting off the curves of his face and intensifying his gaze. He was sitting up properly, almost like he hadn't been tortured a few hours ago and this was some regular midnight visit. Like he'd been expecting you.
"N-Nikolai...Wha--I--I came to check on you." Nikolai's eyes widened at that, and he blushed with a small smile on his face.
"Ahhhh, that so? Well, I still feel like shit." Nikolai winced in pain as he slowly sank back down into the bed, laying down and turning to the side to face you. The light was fully on him now, and you could see some light bruises on his face from where he'd been punched and roughly handled. The sight made you frown. What a shame his pretty face had been wounded, by your coworkers nonetheless. You knew it wasn't your fault, but you felt like you had to apologize.
You pulled up a stool next to the bed and sat down awkwardly. Nikolai cut you off as you were about to open your mouth, reading your intentions. "Don't say sorry, myla. Besides, this was probably divine punishment for my past actions. Sadists get punished by sadists, I guess? Not that I care much about or regret what I've done". His green eye glowed after he said that, but he quickly perked up after seeing your semi-horrified, semi-concerned face. "It was fun though, really. Nothing I haven't gone through before..." He tried to laugh a bit but quickly cringed again from the soreness.
Instinctively, you reached out but quickly pulled your hand away after remembering why you came in the first place. Reaching into your coat pocket, you pulled out The Overcoat, "I brought your book. So you don't get too bored." You smiled sadly to yourself, "I don't know if we can be seen together much anymore. I though this would help."
Nikolai bitterly laughed at that, the situation sinking in. "You came all this way to give me my book...You're silly, ptashka. I can't even read it." One glance at him confirmed his statement: he could barely keep his eyes open.
"Read it to me," he said huskily, reaching one of his hands out and stroking your cheek, "Stay here and read to me until I fall asleep. Unless you'd rather sleep next to me, hehe~" Nikolai teased, outlining your lips with his thumb. The action caused you to blush.
"N-no--I'll read to you..." you stammered, bringing his hand down to your lap and opening the book. He giggled seeing your flustered reaction and with some of the little strength he had left, he laced his fingers with yours and gazed at you lovingly.
You smiled warmly at him, opening the book and starting, "In the department of -- but it is better not to mention the department. There is nothing more irritable than departs, regiments, courts of justice, and, in a world, every branch of public service. Each individual attached to them nowadays thinks all society insulted in his person..."
You'd gotten twenty pages in before Nikolai finally dozed off; you could tell by the way his grip on your hand slacked up. You closed the book and moved his hand back to the bed slowly, careful not to awaken him. The lamp rays cast a warm glow on Nikolai, softening up his tense features. His fluffy bangs fell across his face, almost making you laugh because of how perfect and prince-like he looked--just like the first time you saw him.
You pulled the covers over him, brushing away his bangs. You remembered the library suddenly and how you owed him a kiss. Now wouldn't be a bad time, would it? Leaning into him, you planted a soft kiss on his forehead, moving down to the bruises on his cheeks and lower jaw. He was still resting peacefully by the time you were close to his lips. You blushed suddenly, feeling nervous. All you could muster was a small, quick peck on his lips before pulling away.
"Goodnight, Kolya." You whispered before getting up from the stool, feeling your heart beat rapidly in your chest.
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It was almost 2:00 AM by the time you got home. The day had truly worn you out, both physically and mentally. You were surprised that you and your husband's shared car was still in the parking lot by the time you left. To be honest, you were too tired to be concerned with who he'd gotten a ride with or if he'd actually meant to leave; you were also secretly grateful to not spot his shoes or coat anywhere, meaning he wasn't home and you had the bedroom to yourself.
Groggily making your way to the bathroom, you took a warm shower to clean yourself off, changed into a satin pajama set, and tucked yourself into bed. Your head was still spinning and the pain in the lower half of your body had resumed, making you need painkillers again. You recalled your husband telling you that he kept some in the nightstand dressers. Opening the lower drawer and reaching in, you were hit with the familiar nauseating smell of peony perfume and felt something...thin and silky?
In a confused daze, you peaked over and found a neon green G-string along with a small envelope with red hearts drawn all over it. You dropped the underwear in disgust and felt a pit in your stomach. Already having a strong hunch of what was going on, you opened the note, cringing when you saw a lipstick mark on it:
Same time, same place next week? Never took you for the type of man who could be adventurous and cheat;) Can't blame you, though. Your wife is booooringggggg. ~L ♡
Tears fell down your face as you threw the note back into the drawer and slammed it shut, eliminating the scent of Lacey's perfume. Even though you couldn't be surprised about your husband cheating, it felt like the final blow to a series of disastrous events.
Fatigue creeping up on you, all you could do was pass out from the mix of emotions.
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You had just finished brunch in the morning when you'd received a call from the asylum. Wanting nothing more than to ignore it and try to enjoy your day off, you waited until the last ring to pick up. After all, it could be an---
"Miss? Please, I know it's your day off, but---I don't know what's going on--please, we need you now...this is the worst--" you recognized the security guard's voice on the other line frantically speaking among shuffling and siren noises in the background.
Concerned, you spoke, "Hello? What's going on over there? Explain it me calmly."
The guard on the line sighed deeply, probably as a way to steady himself, "R-Right. It's Gogol," your eyes perked up at that, "He--God--He's out of control. He's been injuring staff left and right." He paused again, "That psycho has taken out half the squad of armed guards and put ten attendants on stretchers in an hour. That blonde girl got it pretty bad...she's knocked out with a black eye and a concussion."
"What? No way" You said in complete disbelief, trying to process everything.
"Yeah. Anyways, we have him temporarily detained until we can get special forces to come in. If you could get here ASAP to calm him down, we'd need that. Of course, we'd pay you extra, and--" The guard was practically yelling at this point, rambling on as you heard the commotion in the back getting louder. Reality hit you again, forcing you to realize the gravity of the situation. Not to mention, what was up with Nikolai? You couldn't believe he'd dwindled down the asylum's forces right after being tortured, or that he'd suddenly gone on a rampage after being relatively well-behaved and compliant. Even though the last place you wanted to be was work, you obliged.
"I'll be in soon, give me fifteen minutes."
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"Where is he?" You asked, panting since you were out of breath from running alongside the security guard that called you.
"The bath house. Everything was normal until he was in for his scheduled bath and an attendant was helping him. It was the new girl with blonde hair," He looked back at you to make sure you were still behind him, "She tried to help him undress since he was injured, but he reacted badly and started full on beating her up. She already had a black eye and a concussion by the time the guards got to her."
That was definitely Lacey. You weren't sure how to feel about her situation with the new information that's just come to light, but you quickly shook off the smug grin that you could feel forming on your face and kept running behind the guard.
"After that, some other attendants rushed to help her out, but they weren't spared either. When the guards came in to detain him, he went on a total rampage, even stealing a baton and taser off of a guard and clearing the response team."
You were shocked at that. Of course he was a notoriously cruel and sly criminal, but to think he'd made light work of so many people that easily...
"What's the situation now?"
"Well, several ambulances later, we finally got him under control by tranquilizing him and restraining him with handcuffs, so he should be incapacitated for now. What a monster, doing all that like he wasn't electrocuted yesterday." The guard stopped suddenly, making you almost bump into him. He took his access card out and scanned it. "We're here, miss," he started to open the door before facing you, "I'll be in there with you in case anything bad happens, but just try to keep him under control until backup comes in. Apparently, they're experiencing delays, now of all times..."
You nodded and followed the guard in, looking around the bathing room. Rather than the usual communal showers, a special isolated bath house was reserved for high threat patients. The space itself wasn't too extravagant, with white and black tiled floors and a singular bath tub in the middle of the otherwise large, light-filled room. You walked towards the center and spotted Nikolai inside of the tub, his tall figure peaking out from the edge. His hands were cuffed to the faucet, and he appeared disheveled: hair messy, shirt unbuttoned and in boxers, and knuckles discolored, likely from fighting. His previous bruises did look like they'd lightened up a bit, though.
"Nikolai, it's me." You started, sitting down a few feet away from the tub. You heard a faint groan come from him in response, meaning he was still conscious. The guard stood ten feet away from you, trying to gauge the situation in case your ex-patient tried to attack you. You took a deep breath, "I heard about what you did. I can't--I don't understand it or the meaning of this at all. Why can't you just behave for once? Why do you always have to be so unpredictable and difficult?"
Squinting, he looked up at you sadly, nearly making you blurt out an apology. "Dove...can't hear...close--come closer..." Nikolai muttered weakly, resisting slightly against the cuffs to try and reach out to you. You looked at the guard who gave you a reassuring nod and stepped closer to the tub. You took off your lab coat, suddenly feeling conscious of what you were wearing underneath. You didn't have any time to change before rushing in, so you were just wearing a short pair of biker shorts and a matching tank top--the set you were planning to wear to the workout class you were going to attend on your day off. You felt exposed as you hesitantly made your way into the tub, sitting closer to Nikolai. "Bathe me." He teased, his eyes crinkling up a bit when he felt your presence next to him.
You opened your mouth to respond but got cut off by the beeping of the guard's radio followed by frantic noises. His eyes widened and he looked back at you, “Miss, I’m sorry but there’s been a situation,” you shot him a concerned look, “A mass fight has broken out in the cafeteria…Half of the patients are beating each other and staff up, and the other half are throwing their guts up. We think someone might’ve poisoned or drugged the food.” The guard exhaled frustratedly and was anxiously tapping his foot on the ground, “I hate to say it, but I need to go help suppress the whole commotion. Will you be alright?”
You looked down at Nikolai, who still appeared to be weak and under the tranquilizer’s effects. There was also another shot of tranquilizer on the floor next to the tub—in case of an emergency. You nodded affirmatively, and the guard slowly walked out, the pang of the closed door echoing off the walls. The bath house went silent as you two were left all alone.
The next thing you heard was the sound of breaking metal as a strong--too strong for just being tranquilized--pair of arms wrapped around you. You yelped as Nikolai pulled you into his lap, arms encasing your waist--effectively trapping you--and nuzzled into your chest, the handcuffs landing away on the tiled floor. He muttered something about how you smelled like coffee and vanilla.
"Kol!--" You protested, struggling against Nikolai's strong arms to break free. You couldn't though, slightly scaring you and adding to your overall confusion. Where was this sudden strength coming from? Should you even be surprised?
Nikolai only cruelly laughed at your attempts to escape his hold, pressing you harder against his body until you finally went limp and gave in. "What's wrong, dove? Aren't you happy to see me? You're wearing less clothes this time, too~" He cooed playfully, loosening his grip on you enough to get his face out of your breasts; all of his nuzzling had pulled down your tank top to expose your cleavage.
You blushed and put your hands on his shoulders to gain some distance. "That's not--I--" you couldn't speak straight, not sure where to start and how or if you should even explain the events of last night to Nikolai. "My husband--he--"
"Cheated on you? With the blonde bob girl? Yeah, I know. They always do it in the storage closet." The bluntness in Nikolai's voice shocked you. Had everyone literally known about this but you? Did he and Lacey have to be that obvious? Nikolai started playing with the ends of your tank top, "That's why I beat that annoying harlot up. She was faking nice all day and kept touching me all seductively," he ran his hands up and down your waist, using his fingers to slowly pull up your top and drag down your shorts like he was trying to reenact the scenario.
"H-Hey..." You stammered, blushing at his advances. Nikolai only giggled as he brought your hands up to his face and kissed them.
"I hate girls like that, you know? I only have eyes for you, myla." He stared into your eyes for a minute--unbeknownst to you, waiting for a reciprocated response--before letting go of your hands and sighing disappointedly.
"Quiz time!", Nikolai started, lightly slapping your hips and sitting up straight, startling you, "Will Dove entertain me or stay here while I beat up the boss then escape?"
"What?" You looked confusedly at Nikolai, "Entertain you? What are you talking about?" A pit formed in your stomach; you had a bad feeling about this.
A smirk appeared on Nikolai's face, "Well, you are just here to keep me occupied until backup arrives, aren't you?" He waved his hands at you, "I broke free from my handcuffs, so technically I can leave whenever I want. I know you won't stop me."
His taunt made you sneer, but you knew deep down he was right. It wasn't even about strength, you didn't want to stop him either. "I can't let you leave, though. What do you want?"
"You're really bad at quizzes, ptashka. You're supposed to guess, not ask me." Nikolai leaned back into your chest. "Hmmm...bathe me." He suggested, causing your face to heat up.
"But--" You objected, getting cut off by Nikolai looking towards the exit door and starting to get up. "Wait!" You pushed him back down and glared into his mocking eyes, "I'll do it. Just--just stay here...with me." The last part piqued Nikolai's interest as his attention went back to you and his smug look returned.
You shakily reached for the faucet to turn the water on before Nikolai pulled your hand back. "Not yet, dove. We can't bathe with clothes on. Remove them all first." His warned, dark eyes and an unreadable expression back on his face.
You gulped, "R-right..." His white button-up was already open, so sliding it off Nikolai's broad shoulders was easy. You couldn't peel your eyes off of his toned chest. You couldn't believe that loose uniform and his lanky frame were hiding a perfectly chiseled six pack all this time.
Nikolai laughed seeing you admire him, "Like what you see, pryntsesa? Keep going down, it gets better~" He teased, moving your hands down to the waistband of his boxers. Your heartbeat was ringing in your ears as you pulled them down. Vision flashing, you grabbed a soap bar from the ledge of the tub and turned the faucet on, burying your face into Nikolai's neck and closing your eyes, eliciting a subtle whine from him.
"What's wrong, dove? Too embarrassed to look?" Embarrassed was an understatement. You hadn't been intimate in so long, and now you were getting naked with your ex-patient that you'd been in charge of detaining. You were blushing like it was your first time. Nikolai giggled at your reaction; he was annoyed at first that you'd stopped but was pleased by your flustered state. "Cute. Now look up." He brought your face up to his, but you put your hands on his chest to stop him, hesitating to continue.
"Come on, now. Where's the confidence from when you kissed me? Y'know, while I was sleeping." You froze in place from that, allowing Nikolai to move your hands away and bring you close again. You were still stunned, so he continued, "You didn't know I was awake, did you? If I wasn't under all those drugs, I would've--"
"I'll do it, Nikolai. So please, stop talking..." You whispered out, silencing him with a kiss. Nikolai obliged, kissing you back obsessively and pulling you deeper. You flinched a bit when you felt him tugging off your biker shorts, pressing you near his exposed length. He broke away from the kiss, cheeks lightly pink as he feverishly pulled your tank top off and you complied.
Intimate silence between you, you picked up the soap bar and slowly started lathering up his upper body, sensually gliding your hands over his firm abs. He panted lightly from your touch, still taken aback by your sudden forward gesture. You weren't unscathed either, eyes averted to the bubbly translucent water and a rose hue across your face. "Dove," he started needily, "Wash lower". He took a hold of your hand, letting the soap sink, and moved it down under the sudsy bathwater to his hardened member.
You looked away ashamedly as your fingers slid down and rested at the base. He was big. Were you really going to--
"Dove", his voice was slightly threatening as he grabbed your face with one hand, "Look at me and do it properly." He cupped his other hand over yours and starting lightly stroking up and down, making you even more aware of his length.
"I-I'm embarrassed..." You said, trailing off and struggling to look into his hazy eyes as your movements got weaker. Nikolai's smile turned down after that, and his glare burned into you.
"Why, you've never done this with your husband?" He sheepishly grinned as his hands crept down your sides before stopping, "The one who loves you so much and gave you these love marks?" His face went dark again before squeezing the bruises along your waist, hard enough to make you wince in pain. He only smiled happily from your reaction, kneading into your skin more as he continued, "I would never hurt you like that, dove...Not unless you wanted me to." He moved closer to you and whispered in your ear, "You don't want me to hurt you now, do you? That's why you'll listen to me, right?"
Your eyes burned a bit, tears almost forming as you realized how powerless you were in this situation; he could always kill you. "No..." You quickly shook your head as your hand went under the water again to pump his dick. Nikolai heaved upon feeling your fingers wrapped around him again and pulled you in again for a softer kiss, hands now affectionately caressing your body, trying to comfort you for being a bit too cruel.
He groaned into your mouth after you started stroking at a faster pace, bringing your fingers up to play with his tip as you squeezed tighter on the way down. Your kisses became weaker as you could feel his pre-cum making his shaft more slippery. Nikolai broke away from the kiss, breath hitching as you squeezed his sensitive parts tighter. "S-Shit, dove..." He muttered out, momentarily relaxing his head and shutting his eyes, making you could feel his cock get warmer as more of his arousal came out.
He didn't miss the way your nipples hardened from his desperate panting and was quick to trail kisses from your neck down to below your collarbone while undoing your bra. He got harder seeing your perfect, round tits and took one in his mouth, sucking sweetly while palming the other. His quick action drew a sudden moan from you, and you brought a hand up to run your fingers through his layered hair, latching on for support.
"A-Ahhh~" You were still focused on pleasuring Nikolai and kept massaging his dick as he lapped up your breast, digging his nose into your skin, getting drunk off of your vanilla scent. He opened his glossy eyes to see your rosy, lewd expression.
"So pretty, myla," He released your breast with a 'pop' and groaned under your touch, "Mmmm...there...K-keep stroking there, dove. I'll make you feel good, too." His face was flushed now, light pink dusting his cheeks. He didn't expect his pristine dove to be so...forward and lascivious. Certainly not so skilled with your delicate fingers, either. He felt like rewarding you and used his free hand to bring your body down, so your cunt was aligned with his thigh. He grunted feeling your wetness immediately against his skin.
You hissed after feeling the back and forth friction on your slit, insides clenching around nothing. The heat in your core was only getting more intense, making you only want Nikolai and ignoring all morality. You could tell he was feeling it too by the way he started breathing heavily and leaving hickeys on your neck, panting out your name. The kisses trailed down your collarbone to your tits again as Nikolai drew circles around your nipple with his hot tongue.
Needing more, he pushed you down further onto his thigh and suddenly bit your sensitive bud, causing you to jerk up and tug his hair roughly "K-Kolya! Mmmmm...t-too rough!" His name leaving your pretty lips was enough to send him over the edge as he came into your hand and whimpered loudly.
"F-fuck, fuck, fuck..." He hugged you tightly and kissed your skin as he came down from his high, hot breath on your chest. His eyes were shut tightly. You blushed seeing him all vulnerable like this and kissed them softly, gently brushing the hair sticking to his forehead to the side. When he finally opened them again, you were reminded of your own unfinished arousal.
"A-another round, please, Kolya," You begged him with lust-filled eyes, grinding yourself into his thigh more, "Want you to make me--"
Your needy pleas were cut off by Nikolai's amused giggles as he gazed at you mockingly, "Hmmmm...so my dove needs me now, does she?" He tilted his head innocently, his signature twisted smile gracing his face, "I don't know, though, ptashka. I'm a bit tired and injured, so I can't move much."
You hated it--how he was getting off seeing your pathetic expressions. Even if he was telling the truth, it felt like he was degrading you, like he wasn't the one utterly obsessed with and love-sick over you in the first place. You were still just playing his little game, but it didn't matter. All you needed was him now--inside of you.
You exhaled shakily and moved up again, reluctantly holding onto his shoulders and starting to lower yourself, "You're the worst...teasing me like this..."
"Only because you tempt me too much, myla." Nikolai's hands caressed your face and traced over your pouting lips. His eyes remained dark and daunting; he was testing your limits, testing you. You both gasped as you felt him directly on your pussy, brushing past your clit and threatening to slip in between your folds.
Low moans left your mouth as you took him inside of you. His cock was stretching you out, forcing you to close your eyes to avoid looking down. Inch by inch, you went lower--moving at an agonizingly slow pace, whimpering from the uncomfortable feeling of being slowly filled. You stopped after the stretch started to borderline sting. It was too big--He was definitely way too--
His laughs interrupted you again, "Come on, dove. You're only half way down. Try a little harder, won't you?" Only half way? He had to be jokin--
You choked on your moans as Nikolai forcibly grabbed your hips and pulled you down to the base of his cock, submerging your lower half into the milky warm water. He smirked shamelessly upon feeling your perfectly manicured nails dig into his shoulder blades and kissed along your neck to soothe some of the pain.
"A-Ahh...you're tight, love. I'm bigger than your husband, aren't I?" You mumbled something quietly, too focused on trying to adjust. Nikolai kept going, though, "Yeahhhh, I definitely am. I can tell by how--fuck--good you're s-squeezing me~" His facade started disappearing when he felt the sensation of your pussy's contractions mixed with the scratches on his back . He held his breath as you unclasped the gold necklace--now no more than a satirical collar--and let it fall into the bathwater below you.
"S-Stop talking about him. I don't want to think about that cheater anymore. Just focus on me, p-please, Kolya." Your weak yet assertive pleas made his heart melt a bit as you rode him slowly. The unfamiliar stretch each time you rowed your hips back and forth made you bite your lip slightly. Nikolai only threw his head back and placed his hands lightly on your sides--still insistent on not doing any of the work--greedily enjoying the ride and moaning praise out of his mouth. He looked so pretty like this--like he did in the library: flushed face, disheveled hair, and lust-blown eyes.
Both of your moans got louder and you sped up your pace, grinding your pussy down on his cock harder each time and leaving passionate hickeys on his neck and chest. He ran his fingers through your hair and groaned into your ear, the sight of your plush ass and tits bouncing up and down turning him on even more.
"So perfect for me, angel..." Nikolai pulled your neck in and crashed his lips messily onto yours, muffling your moans with his tongue. You were so cute, thighs trembling from trying to take all of him with no help but desperate to chase your own release. He brought his fingers down to your puffy clit and rubbed small circles around it, occasionally pinching and making you buck your hips momentarily. His satisfied groan quickly turned into another whimper as you squeezed harder around him in response to his teasing. Your movements and kisses got sloppier as the two of you got closer to finishing, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap once you felt every vein on his cock throb inside of you.
Your thoughts were becoming clouded as you chased your own pleasure--something you hadn't prioritized in years. You didn't care anymore about your husband, who was just a good-for-nothing adulterer and abuser, your coworkers who'd stayed silent about his cheating, or your parents who only cared about what they could get out of you. All of them kept you in a cage, their cage that separated you from love, truth, and happiness. But Nikolai was different: he lived his life freely and wanted the same for you; he cared for you like no other--actually desiring you and staying loyal, making you laugh, and knowing how to touch you. Even if he hurt you, the pain always went away shortly. After all, even though he'd caused the commotion at the asylum, he'd protected you by keeping you in the bath house with him. He was doing all of this because he cared about you, right?
Nikolai pulled away from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva between you. He was panting hard and out of breath but gazed adoringly into your eyes again. The circles on your clit got faster, drawing broken moans from you as you started to become numb to all the previous pain. Now that you'd adjusted fully and angled yourself better, you could feel Nikolai in the depths of your pussy hitting your sensitive spot. "Mmmmm--Kolya...you feel...'s good--Ahhh~"
"Y-yeah, pryntsesa? You're close, right?" You nodded vaguely, drunk off of the hedonism you'd been denied for so long. "I love you, dove. So much." Your hazy eyes widened after hearing that, tears of ecstasy prickling your vision. "Come for me, please, pretty girl. Let's do it together."
You came undone from that, your orgasm washing over you and putting you in a state of pure bliss. Nikolai groaned as he felt your warm pussy clench around him, following you and releasing his cum inside. You shuddered from the warmth that contrasted the now cold water you were half-submersed in. Feeling tired and cold, you hugged Nikolai's firm body.
"Love you too, Kolya. I wanna be free with you, forever. Let's run away." You looked up into his eyes, almost shocked to see the dark, unreadable expression and a wicked smile on his face.
"Yeah? That's good to hear~" He captured your lips again, a bit more harshly this time, and kissed you hungrily. You gasped into the kiss as you felt him grab and squeeze your ass and thrust up into your overstimulated sore cunt, going at an unrelenting pace you couldn't handle.
You tried to push him away, but you were too weak and fucked-out, only crying out as you felt him balls-deep inside of you. "Sorry, dove, I want to finish one more time. Will you help me?" He was laughing in between as you moaned incoherently, too spent to keep your eyes open or respond properly.
"I love you...I love you, Kolya..." You could only repeat that as you started to feel the sensation building in your core again, feeling Nikolai's rough thrusts more intensely. You felt some shifting and were about to open your eyes when you felt a sharp prick at the left side of your waist.
"Ah--Ow!" Your eyes flew open from the pain, and you gasped in shock as you saw Nikolai's hand closed around your side, holding the rest of your body still as he injected the spare shot of tranquilizer into you.
Nikolai only looked down regrettably at you as he stroked your hair and kissed your face gently. Your head was spinning and your vision slowly faded to black as the effects kicked in, unable to even process what was going on. The last thing you heard was Nikolai's distorted voice.
"Don't worry, dove, we'll be in a better place soon. Somewhere we'll be free..." You made out a warped giggle, "Dos and Sigma are going to be so jealous of me."
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₊‧꒰ა read part 3 here ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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logansdoll · 2 months
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ivy, l. howlett (3)
you and Scott go after Rogue and Wolverine... but when you return, a familiar face shows up on your doorstep.
CW: canon typical violence, gore, guns, mutation, profanity, innuendos, mature themes, mentions of sex, y/n is very poison ivy-esque, jean grey exists but is not present, etc.
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"You look around. I'll check the ticket agent," you told Scott, heading toward the booth.
He gave you a stiff nod, quietly glancing around for any sign of Magneto's disciples.
It didn't come as a surprise when Rogue ran away the next day—and it came as an even less of one when Logan went off after her, despite the professor's instructions.
So you and Scott set off to Grand Central Station in search of the two before they could be taken hostage.
Of course, Scott was less than happy to be there.
Just another mess of Logan's for him to clean up...
'Big baby...'
You were quick to explain the situation once you finally made it to the front of the line.
"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I need to know if you've seen a young girl pass through here?" you asked, sincerely. 
You just wanted Rogue to be safe.
Scott could get pissy about Logan stealing his bike or going against direction, but at the end of the day she was the priority.
And you weren't going to stop until you found her.
Lord knows you were just like her about ten years ago.
"She's about seventeen. Uh, my height. Has brown hair, and she—"
A loud growl suddenly rumbled from behind, and you turned around, only to be grabbed by the neck and hoisted up by a huge, hairy, blonde man whose nails needed serious trimming.
"Sabretooth... I take it?" you rasped, your hands coming up to grab at his in an attempt to pull him off.
But he let out a roar, roughly pulling you closer, his hot breath fanning over your face.
"Scream for me," he snarled.
Looking past him, you saw Scott storming over, about to help, when a yellow skinned man hanging off the ceiling suddenly stuck out his long tongue, whipping Scott's glasses of his face and forcing him to burn a gigantic hole into the roof.
Using the seeds in your pocket, you shot out a gigantic stalk of bamboo, ramming him through a wall and into the next room, sending rubble flying everywhere.
Dropping to the ground, you let out a gasp of relief, clutching your throat.
'This is day two... I get choked again... someone's dying.'
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"You said he wanted me," Logan glared, aggressively grabbing his jacket.
"I made a terrible mistake," Xavier admitted, thoroughly disappointed in himself. "His helmet was somehow designed to block my telepathy. I couldn't see what he was after until it was too late."
Face taut, Logan stormed toward the exit of his room, shoving his arm through the sleeve.
"Where are you going?" you asked, brows furrowed.
"I'm gonna find her."
"How?" Xavier turned to him.
"The traditional way: look," he spat, striding out the the door.
Quickly, you turned to the professor, and he gave you a nod of approval, already aware of your question.
Though, if you were being honest, you would've done it anyway.
"Logan," you called, following him out the hall and down the steps. "You can't do this alone."
"Who's gonna help me? You?" he scoffed, eyes focused ahead as he started toward the exit. "So far you've all done a bang-up job."
"Then help us. Fight with us," you pressed on, closing in on him.
Suddenly, he stopped, turning around so fast you nearly crashed into his chest.
"Fight with you?" he growled, voice low and face only a few inches from yours. "What, join the team? Be an X-man?"
You stood firm despite his mockery, eyes searching his for what he truly felt.
Yet all you found was pain, guilt, and self-loathing.
He blamed himself for Rogue's kidnapping, and was lashing out from a place of hurt.
So you wouldn't take it personal.
"Who the hell do you think you are? You're a mutant. The whole world out there is full of people that hate and fear you. And you're wasting your time tryna protect them," he shook his head. "I got better things to do."
He walked off again, but suddenly stopped, turning to face you once more.
"Y'know, Magneto's right. There's a war coming," he stated. "Are you sure you're on the right side?"
"At least I've chosen a side."
The words slightly stung, and he gave you a look as he opened the door, only to be met by Senator Kelly.
The driving force of the Mutant Registration Program.
Only now he looked like shit, sweaty and clammy and out of breath.
"I'm looking... for Dr. (y/n) (l/n)," he panted, weakly.
Suddenly, his legs gave out, and he fell forward into Logan's arms, unconscious.
"Bring him to my lab. Quick," you ordered, turning around and heading for the lower levels.
'Never a dull moment...'
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"Senator Kelly," Xavier started, leaning a little closer, "I'm Professor Charles Xavier."
The senator was laying on your operating table, hooked up to several machines in order to keep his condition stable.
Though it was truly anything but that.
"I was afraid if I went to a hospital, they would—" "Treat you like a mutant?"
The professor shook his head, reassuringly.
"We're not all what you think... not all of us."
"Tell it to the ones who did this to me."
Xavier sighed, wheeling his chair around to the tip of the table, where Kelly's head rested.
"Senator," the professor rested his hands against the man's temples. "I want you to relax. I'm not going to hurt you."
He took a moment, sifting through Kelly's memories to find out exactly what happened.
And when he did, it was evident on Charles's face that it did not bode well.
Quickly, he turned around, Logan following him down the hall where Scott and Ororo waited, while you stayed with the senator.
In the meeting...
"The machine emits radiation that triggers mutation in ordinary human beings," he started, the news thoroughly worrying him. "But the mutation is unnatural. (y/n)'s already deduced Kelly's body is rejecting it. His cells show signs of significant degeneration."
"What effect does radiation have on mutants?" Scott asked, turning to the professor.
"There appears to be none. But I fear it will seriously harm any normal person exposed to it," he answered.
"So what does Magneto want with Rogue?" Logan chimed from his spot against the wall.
Xavier hung his head, "I don't know."
That was all he needed to hear.
Logan didn't give a shit about some senator—Kelly made it abundantly clear he didn't give a shit about mutants—so he wasn't gonna sit around and play doctor for him.
One less human to worry about.
"Wait a second," Scott realized. "You said this machine draws energy from Magneto, and that it weakened him."
"Yes," the professor confirmed, slowly beginning to realize. "In fact, it nearly killed him."
Wait a minute...
'Oh, shit.'
"He's gonna transfer his power to Rogue, and use her to power the machine."
In the lab...
"Is somebody there?" Senator Kelly rasped, his hand weakly reaching out toward the darkness.
"Yes," you answered, quickly heading over. "I'm here."
The moment you arrived at his bedside, his cold, clammy hand grabbed your arm, frantically.
"Please don't leave me," he heaved, pleadingly. "Don't wanna be alone."
You looked down at him, eyes saddened by his sorry state.
His veins were dark and bulging painfully against his skin, and he was covered in an ungodly amount of sweat.
Or, at least, what you thought to be sweat.
Though you were quickly starting to realize that he was liquefying right before your eyes.
"All right," you nodded, softly.
Water was leaving him at a steady trickle, and you knew he had only a few minutes, if not moments, left to live.
"Do you hate normal people?" he suddenly asked, voice distant.
And for a man on his deathbed, you answered honestly.
"Sometimes..."
"Why?"
Now that took a little more thought.
"I guess... I'm afraid of them."
He smiled, reassuringly, "Well... I think you have one... less person to be afraid of."
And before you could respond, he gasped, suddenly choking on his own throat as it began to turn into water.
Your eyes shot wide, and you looked down at his hand, only to liquidize right in your grasp, splashing water everywhere.
Snapping your head back to him, you watched as the rest of his organs and bodily fluids devolved into water, until it all finally burst, leaving nothing of him to remain.
'Professor! Now!'
Quickly, you turned around, sprinting out the door and down the hall toward where they were having their meeting.
Once you made it to the door, you barged in, interrupting a Logan-Scott argument.
"Senator Kelly is dead," you stated, seriously.
"I am going to find her," Xavier turned to the rest of you, face taut.
All bets were off now—there was no holding back.
"Let's settle this."
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dixons-sunshine · 7 months
Text
Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader
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*GIF isn't mine*
Summary: While hanging out with Daryl, an old friend decided to pay you an unexpected visit. Not wanting to cut your visit short, Daryl offers to tag along to the supermarket. You agree, which lead to the funniest but best shopping experience of your life. And the hangout afterwards turned into a night you'd never forget.
Genre: Fluff, some angst (mentions of Daryl's dad and his scars—reader knows about his home life.)
Era: Pre outbreak
Warnings: Swearing, blood (from reader's period), mentions of abuse, mentions of Merle being an asshole to reader and Daryl, allusions to money problems (reader chooses the cheapest foods while in the store and lives in a trailer park), reader's mom is implied to be a single parent.
Word count: 4.6k (this got way longer than I expected)
A/n: Honestly my second favourite story I've written. It's not great, but I loved the concept very much and writing about Daryl before the apocalypse turned out to be so much fun! I definitely need to write more about pre-apocalypse Daryl.
Requests are open for any TWD requests if y'all wanna send any!
Part two
“I'm telling you, you're overreacting. How was I supposed to know that it was gonna go flying in your direction?”
“It wasn't even supposed to go flyin' like tha' in the first place. I've been tryin' to teach ya to fish fer months now, but yer hopeless. Stick to buyin' fish from the market fer yer safety and mine.”
You threw one of the pillows on the couch you were sitting on in his direction, trying to look offended but failing miserably due to the burst of laughter falling from your lips. Daryl easily caught the pillow and chuckled, a boyish grin on his face. He flopped down next to you on the couch, keeping the pillow on his lap as he watched you trying to calm your laughter.
“You're mean, you know that? I'm not hopeless, fishing is just hard,” you said with a smile, looking at him through your eyelashes.
The smile you wore and the sparkle in your eyes made Daryl's heart skip a beat. His mouth suddenly felt dry and he felt an overwhelming urge to close the distance between the two of you—and urge he's had for months now—but he refrained, his father's deprecating words about his 'nonexistent' worth echoing in the back of his mind.
Daryl shook the thoughts from his mind and focused back on you, your smile he loved so much still gracing your features. “Nah, it ain't tha' hard,” he replied, resting his arm on the back of the couch.
“Says the fish whisperer,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest in mock anger, but the huge smile on your face ruined your facade.
Daryl couldn't help the amused laugh that escaped his mouth. “Fish whisperer?” he asked, a crooked smile on his face as he looked at you. “Tha's what yer callin' me?”
“Yeah, you're a fish whisperer. Every time I try to catch a fish, you lean down to the water and tell the fish to be difficult so that I can't catch them and you get the satisfaction of watching me fail. I've got you all figured out, Dixon,” you joked, a teasing grin on your face.
Daryl shook his head at your ‘accusation’ and chuckled. “Ya got me,” he responded. “Sorry ya had to find out like this. The fish and I jus' have this unspoken bond, ya know? They do whatever I tell 'em to.”
“I knew it,” you replied playfully, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Apologise right now.”
“'M sorry,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I'll talk to the fish and get them to go easier on ya.”
“Thank you,” you laughed in playful triumph.
“Yer welcome,” he replied with a shake of his head, the crooked smile still on his face. “Now are we gonna watch tha' movie ya promised or are we jus' gonna go back and forth over your lack of fishin' skills?”
“Yeah, I just gotta use the bathroom really quick. You can pick out a movie in the meantime,” you acknowledged, getting up from the couch once you saw Daryl nod.
You headed into the bathroom of your small trailer home and closed the door, heading towards the toilet to tend to your business. However, as soon as you sat down, you saw blotches of blood on the inside of your underwear. You groaned inwardly at the horrible timing of your period's arrival and reached for the box of tampons you kept located near the toilet. However, as soon as you opened the box, you audibly groaned at the sight of only one tampon remaining. You didn't have any pads either due to your mom having used the last one a week prior, so you'd have to make a run to the store.
You finished your business, grabbing a fresh pair of underwear from the laundry basket you had yet to take back to your room as well as a pair of pants, before going back out to Daryl. He patiently waited for you on the couch, the movie he picked out paused and waiting to be watched. He fiddled with the remote in his hands before looking up at you when he heard your approaching footsteps. He gave you a small smile before frowning, instantly noticing the ashamed look on your face.
“Wha's wrong?” he questioned, getting up from the couch and taking a step towards you.
“Nothing! It's nothing, I just...” you trailed off, unsure how to go about telling Daryl about why you needed to cut the visit short.
“Ya jus' wha'?” he asked anxiously, unnerved by your sudden awkwardness. You were never nervous around him, so the sudden awkwardness baffled him.
“I have to go into town. I need something urgently and it can't really wait. I'm sorry,” you apologized sincerely, your tone holding sadness at the prospect of the visit you had to cut short.
Daryl's heart sank at your words. He enjoyed hanging out with you and really didn't want to go home yet. He was sure his dad wasn't passed out from drinking yet and he didn't want to accidentally set him off into another rage and deeply pay the price for it, so he wanted to wait it out here with you. But now he most likely wouldn't be able to.
“Wha' do ya need?” he asked, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.
You hesitated for a moment. You liked Daryl, and not just platonically, either. Despite his rough exterior, he was undeniably sweet, kind, caring, affectionate and so much more. He knew how to make you laugh even if he preferred to be serious most of the time and he always treated you with the utmost respect. But you also knew that both his brother and his father were misogynistic pricks. They didn't know the first thing about women and feminine needs, so they definitely didn't teach Daryl about any of that. You didn't want Daryl to look at you differently or be grossed out by you because of your period. You wouldn't be able to handle that.
“Hey, ya alrigh'?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. His eyebrows were furrowed in a deep frown, his eyes flickering between your eyes in concern.
“Yeah,” you nodded. “I'm fine. I just zoned out for a second.”
“Ya didn't answer my question from before. Wha' do ya need in town?” he repeated his question.
You swallowed nervously before sighing. “I'm on my period,” you whispered, heat creeping up to your face. “And I'm out of tampons.”
Realisation struck Daryl like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” he mumbled, awkwardly fiddling with his hands.
In all honesty, Daryl wasn't weirded out by you saying that, but he didn't know how to go about the information you gave him. He only had the tiniest grain of knowledge about women's periods—thanks to the many women his dad brought home—but he knew that freaking out about it wasn't the way to go. You were one of the most important people in the world to him, and by god he would do anything to ensure that you knew that you could go to him whenever you needed anything, even for something like you needing period products.
“Ya want me to give ya a ride to the store?” he asked, completely taking you by surprise.
“No, I don't want to trouble you. I'll just walk,” you declined his offer, nervously hugging yourself in an attempt to appear nonchalant and simultaneously ward off the pain that would soon stab through your lower abdomen.
“I ain't lettin' ya walk, especially this close to dark. God knows what trouble is waitin' if ya set foot outside this trailer park alone. Tha' new motorcycle gang likes to hang 'round here and I dun' want them to get any ideas with ya,” Daryl replied steadfastly, his mind already set on escorting you to the store.
You smiled at Daryl's worry towards you. It was rare to see his softer side, but when you did, you always cherished it. Daryl Dixon truly was unlike any man you've ever met.
“Fine,” you relented, your voice adapting the playful tone from earlier. “You can drive me, but just so you know, I'm taking advantage of your hospitality. I need to buy some groceries anyways, but I never got around to it because it would be too much to carry if I walked.”
Daryl's lips twitched up into a half smile and nodded. “Alrigh',” he agreed. “But yer buyin' me a Coke fer my valiant efforts of simply drivin' ya to the store.”
“Deal,” you laughed lightly, unaware of the effect it had on Daryl. His heart quickened at the sweet sound of your melodic laughter and he had to duck his head to hide the blush that formed on his face.
“Let's go.” He motioned for you to follow him and you obliged after grabbing the grocery list, following him out of your trailer and over to his neighbouring trailer. The two of you quietly made your way over to his beat down truck, a vehicle he was 'graciously' being lent by his older brother. Or as Daryl once told you, Merle simply dropped it off one day after getting his motorcycle and just seemed to forget about its existence. So now the truck unofficially belonged to the younger Dixon brother.
You opened the passenger side of the vehicle and got in, closing the door behind you. Daryl got into the driver's side and started the truck, his eyes glancing around at the wrappers and few empty cigarette boxes that littered the floor. “Sorry 'bout the mess.”
“It's fine,” you reassured him. “It certainly doesn't look worse than my trailer when my mom and I have been too lazy to clean up.”
Daryl quietly nodded and started the drive to the store, pulling out of the trailer park. The drive was mostly spent in silence until about five minutes in when a bunch of motorcycles whirled past the truck in the opposite direction. Daryl visibly stiffened after one particular motorcycle drove past and you frowned, placing your hand on his arm to try and ease his tension. At the unexpected action, Daryl tensed slightly but soon relaxed under your tender touch.
“Who was it? The guy on the motorcycle? You seem to know him,” you questioned, earning a disgruntled sigh in response.
“'S my brother,” he responded after a moment's hesitation. “He's back in town fer a while but I dun' know why. He hasn't bothered to come see me.”
“Merle's back?” you asked, trying to keep the distaste out of your voice, but failing miserably, causing a small smile to fall on Daryl's face.
It was no secret to Daryl that you despised his brother. The few limited interactions you had with the man were enough to fuel your distaste. Merle either made sexual passes at you, insulted you or questioned your intentions with Daryl. When you didn't fall for his advances or insults, he'd take a jab at your friendship with his younger brother, claiming that Daryl was "pussy whipped" and that you were taking advantage of him. Daryl always immediately shut him down, but that never stopped Merle. Each time it took walking back into your trailer to get the man to shut up.
“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I think he joined tha' new motorcycle gang. He's a stupid son of a bitch, my brother. Never learns his lesson, but wha' can I do? He ain't ever gonna listen to me.”
“He's a grown man. He'll hopefully learn from his mistakes,” you started, knowing your words probably weren't much comfort for him right now. “If you want, I can punch some sense into him. I've been wanting to punch him for a while now.”
That seemed to lighten Daryl's mood a bit. His lips twitched into a half smile. “Nah, but thanks fer the kind offer. I'll let ya know if I ever need ya to punch him fer me.”
“Please do. I'll practice and everything,” you joked, playfully punching the air in front of you for added effect, eliciting a small chuckle from him.
“Alrigh', Bruce Lee, we're here,” he laughed quietly, parking the car outside the store.
The two of you got out of the truck and moved to the store. Once inside, Daryl grabbed a shopping cart and leaned his arms on the handle bar, looking at you expectantly. “Where to first, boss lady?”
You giggled and took the grocery list from the back pocket of your jeans, unfolding the paper and starting your list. “We'll come back to the period things later. Let's get the necessities out of the way first.”
Daryl pushed the cart as he followed behind you, walking into one of the grocery aisles. “Tampons ain't a necessity?” he asked, curiously watching you search for the cheapest pasta before adding it to the cart.
You shrugged and walked on, hearing the squeaks from the wheels on the cart following closely behind. “It is, but not before food. I can always improvise or ask one of the neighbour ladies for it, but I don't want to ask for food.”
Daryl nodded, although you couldn't see him. “Yeah, tha's understandable,” he said, his eyes scanning over the products in the aisle.
You continued grabbing things on your list, adding them to the cart. You even grabbed two bags of chips and the Coke you promised Daryl, as well as a drink for yourself. After that, you made your way over to the feminine hygiene section and started looking over the various different choices, searching for your preferred items.
“Wha' the fuck?” you heard Daryl whisper behind you, prompting you to turn around and look at him. You giggled at the sight in front of you; Daryl holding a pack of pads whilst his eyes trailed over the different period products, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What?” you asked with a giggle, gaining Daryl's attention.
“Why the hell do y'all need so many different things fer yer pussy blood?” he asked bluntly, eliciting an amused laugh from you.
“First of all, don't call it pussy blood. That's disgusting. Second of all, it's all about preference. Some women prefer pads, others prefer tampons and other things. And not everyone is the same. Some women have heavier flows and some women need bigger tampons and pads than others,” you explained, amused at the deep frown Daryl wore.
Daryl nodded slowly. “Alrigh',” he started. “But still, it's a lot. Tampons, pads... And wha' the hell is a fuckin' diva cup? Y'all use tha' to make tea fer yer pussies or somethin'?”
“No,” you responded, laughing lightly at the confused man. “I don't know how a diva cup works because I've never used one, but it's for our periods. Like I said, preference. Some women prefer diva cups over pads and tampons.”
Daryl shook his head slightly and turned away from the shelves, focusing his eyes back on you. “Well, ya got whatever pads or tampons ya prefer? Or do ya use somethin' else that wasn't named in yer explanation?”
You rolled your eyes and smiled, amused. You grabbed a box of tampons, as well as a box of pads, and added them to the cart. “No, I use pads and tampons, don't worry.”
“Why would I worry?” Daryl asked, pushing the cart as the two of you walked over to pay for the groceries.
“I just meant that you didn't have to worry about there being any more "period product" surprises. I don't think you would've been able to handle it if I told you there was more,” you explained.
“Well... 'S there?” he asked hesitantly, chewing on his lower lip.
“Yeah.”
You walked ahead to the checkout aisle, leaving Daryl baffled behind you. He sped up to catch up to you, and together you started unloading the items.
“This was more than I bargained fer when I offered to come to the store with ya,” Daryl said, handing off items to be scanned.
“I said I would walk,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “Would've spared you the headache you got from looking at all those different brands and stuff.”
“Nah, I'd take the headache over somethin' happenin' to ya. Walkin' alone ain't safe,” he retorted, giving you a stern look.
“I would've been fine.”
“Maybe, but I wouldn't risk it. Still ain't gonna risk it.”
“Ah, young love,” the lady working at the cash register interrupted, startling both you and Daryl. “You two lovebirds are absolutely adorable.”
Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment, a blush spreading across his face. You could feel your own face flush with heat as well.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, handing the owed amount over to the cashier before moving over to grab a few bags.
Daryl followed your lead and grabbed most of the bags. Together the two of you walked out of the store and over to his truck. You placed the bags in the back of the truck before getting into the passenger side, Daryl getting into the driver's side. He silently started up the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot, starting the drive back to the trailer park.
“Thank you, by the way,” you said after a few minutes of silence, shifting Daryl's attention to you.
“Fer wha'?” he asked in confusion, shifting his eyes from the road to you and then back again.
“The ride. And for making me laugh. It was nice.”
“My confusion was amusin' to ya?” he asked with a small smile, glancing over to you.
“No, but the things you said were. Especially the thing about the diva cup. Comedy gold right there,” you said with a smile, gaining a quiet chuckle in return.
“Glad I could make ya laugh,” he replied, before a look of realisation crossed his face. “Wait, ain't ya supposed to be in pain? From wha' I know, period's are supposed to hurt.”
At his words, realisation dawned on you. You could suddenly feel a dull ache in your lower abdomen, a telltale sign of a greater pain awaiting you in a few hours. You just hoped that you had some ibuprofen left back at home.
“I'm fine for now,” you reassured him. “The pain's manageable.”
Daryl nodded. The rest of the drive was spent in silence, save for the rumble of the engine and the wind coming through the open windows. You stared outside at the rising moon, the stars starting to light up the approaching night sky. The trailer park soon came into view and Daryl pulled up to your trailer instead of his, putting the vehicle into park. However, instead of getting out, Daryl tensed up as he stared ahead at his trailer.
You followed his line of sight and saw what he was looking at; his father leading a woman into the trailer. His father shut the door behind him, effectively cutting off your line of sight. You turned to Daryl and saw his jaw clenched in anger, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as his mind seemed to be in another place. You doubted that Daryl even remembered you were still in the truck with him.
“You can stay over if you want,” you said quietly, snapping Daryl from his wandering thoughts. “My mom's working the night shift down at the bar. I've got the trailer to myself tonight and I wouldn't mind having some company.”
Daryl hesitated for a moment. “Ya sure? I can go home. Doubt the old man would notice me slippin' in anyway.”
You nodded your head at him. “I'm sure. Come on.”
Daryl followed you from the truck and into your trailer, carrying most of the bags so that you could unlock the door. Once you were inside and he placed the bags down, he silently admired you as you grabbed a bowl to pour the bought chips into.
Daryl appreciated the fact that you never pried. He had told you once about his father and what he did to him because you'd accidentally caught sight of one of the scars on his back. However, instead of pity, you offered him comfort and understanding, telling him that you were there if he ever needed to talk to someone or needed an escape. You never brought up his home life or his scars, and only ever talked about it if he initiated the sensitive conversation first, which was rare. Because of that, Daryl was convinced that you were an angel in human form. You understood him in a way nobody did, and he would forever be grateful for the chance he got to know you.
You could feel Daryl's intense gaze on you and you could feel your face heat up. Daring to be confident for a moment, you glanced up and locked eyes with him. “See something you like?”
“Mhm,” Daryl hummed in agreement, completely capturing you off guard. You inhaled sharply and tried to slow your racing heart.
Daryl inwardly cursed himself. He hadn't meant to let that slip, but he had gotten so lost in his thoughts and admiration of you that he acted before properly thinking. He blushed for what felt like the thousandth time that day and ducked his head, finding the floor very interesting all of a sudden.
“Well,” you started after clearing your throat, grabbing the bowl of chips and the drinks you bought for you both and walking the short distance into the living room, Daryl hot on your tail. “I'm glad you enjoyed the view. It's my "I desperately need to wash my hair" look.”
Daryl chuckled but said nothing. He got comfortable on the couch, sitting beside you as you handed him the Coke you promised him. “Thanks,” he said, nudging his nose up at you in a nod. “How's yer stomach?”
“Surprisingly okay. I guess the pain decided to give me a break for now. I probably won't be so lucky tomorrow, though,” you responded.
You grabbed the remote and hit play on the movie that Daryl had picked out earlier before you went into town, the opening sequence playing loudly. However, about ten minutes into the movie, Daryl took the remote from you and paused it again, confusing you.
“Can I ask ya somethin'?” he asked unexpectedly, his face conveying how nervous he was.
“Of course,” you replied without hesitation, shifting on the couch until your body completely faced him.
“I dun'... I dun' really know how to ask ya this, and I really hope this won't ruin anythin' between us, but I need to know if ya feel the same,” Daryl nervously said, fiddling with his hands in his lap.
“Daryl, what-”
“Nah, let me finish, please. 'S jus'... Yer so perfect to me, y'know tha'? Yer so kind, so carin', so affectionate. Yer basically a ray of sunshine. Yer the complete opposite of me, and ya could spend yer time with someone who deserves ya, but ya choose to hang out with me. Even though 'm damaged goods and I ain't gonna be nothin' more than a dumb, redneck scum, ya always treat me like 'm this fine piece of priceless art or somethin', and I dun' get why. Yer-”
The sudden pressure of your lips against his instantly shut him up. His eyes widened for a moment before he closed them, his hands instinctively going to rest on your waist. The kiss was slow and hesitant, but loving and sweet at the same time. It was perfect and neither of you wanted it to end, but you soon pulled away, looking into Daryl's ocean coloured eyes.
“You're not damaged goods and you're not a dumb, redneck scum. Don't ever say that about yourself again, you hear me?” you told him quietly, your hands gently resting on his cheeks. After he nodded, you continued. “Where's all of this coming from? I'm not complaining at all, but it's kind of unexpected.”
“I've felt this way fer a while now,” he explained, taking one of your hands off of his face and playing with your fingers. “I never said anythin' because I didn't want to scare ya off, but after tha' lady called us 'lovebirds' and ya offered to let me stay over without question after ya saw my expression earlier... I dun' know, I guess I jus' needed to let ya know how I felt. Didn't know if ya'd feel the same, though.”
You smiled at him and leaned forward to press another kiss to his lips, this one more firm and sure than the first one. “I do feel the same,” you confirmed after you pulled away. “I just never thought you'd like me.”
“Guess we both wasted time not sayin' anythin' 'til now, huh?” he asked, giving you a boyish smile.
“Definitely,” you nodded in agreement, a huge smile on your face.
“I guess we have to thank yer time of the month fer this happenin',” Daryl said. “If it didn't start and we didn't go to the store, tha' lady never would've called us 'lovebirds' and we never would've seen my father and tha' woman enterin' the trailer, so ya wouldn't have asked me to stay over. I probably would've gone home by now if we didn't have to go to the store and probably would've never gotten the balls to say anythin'.”
“I never thought I would be this grateful for my period, but I am now,” you said, leaning your forehead against his.
Daryl closed the remaining gap between the two of you, the two of you descending into a slow, hungry kiss. You brought your arms around his neck and his arms encircled around your waist, bringing you closer into his arms. As the two of you got lost in the moment, you didn't hear the trailer door opening, too caught up in each other to hear anything else. However, the clearing of someone's throat startled you, the two of you practically jumping apart.
“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” your mom asked with a raised eyebrow, her hands on her hips as she looked over the two of you.
You looked over at Daryl, your face flaming with heat at being caught by your mom. Daryl's eyes widened as fear crossed his face, his breathing heavy from your previous actions. You turned your attention back to your mom and sighed.
“Mom, don't freak out. I promise I can explain.”
©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.
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eyelessfaces · 7 months
Text
about time we found each other again.
leto atreides x reader
summary: even years after your wedding got called off, leto is not sure he truly really got over you.
warnings: implied cheating (I am so sorry lady jessica I love you), death of a parent, angst, probably inaccurate dune lore stuff my most sincere apologies I did my best
tags: f!reader, arranged marriage, first love, love confessions, estrangement, time jump where the second part takes place a few years before the first movie (this doesn't matter at all tbh)
word count: 2.1k
this is my first time writing for leto so I hope he's alright lol<3
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When you came to meet Leto Atreides for the first time, it was instantaneous; maybe you couldn't rightfully affirm it with conviction yet, but some deep part of you immediately knew that you desired him to be the one by your side for the rest of time. 
He had been the only other person around your age when you and your family attended a special meeting on Caladan, and you could very well feel your heart beat faster and your cheeks burn hot at each of his furtive glance thrown your way and each slight smirk over either of your faces when your gaze met his. 
Maybe leaving your home land and being sent to eventually move to Caladan wouldn’t be as bad as you had thought, after all.
And it wasn't. You quickly, borderline scarily quickly fell in love with Leto, you were sure of it by now. His manners were those of a man of respect, and he was kind and compassionate, he didn’t have the over excessive pride you would expect from a destined duke.
And ultimately, you grew to also be almost pretty sure that he felt the same way towards you, from the way he listened to you with no feigned interest whenever you shared stories with him, from the way his warm brown eyes so gently looked over at you, from the way he always made sure you were treated right.
You remembered it to be a warm evening when he officially confessed his love to you. 
You had been walking mindlessly through seemingly never ending fields, talking about anything and everything for what felt like a lifetime, eventually stopping to lay down and watch the sun set. 
Leto had settled on gently putting flowers in your hair while you told him about your childhood on your home land, smiling radiantly as he admired you lovingly, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand before he leaned in to kiss you. 
Your own hand was quick to find his dark curls neatly slicked back as he hovered over you, the tip of his fingers delicately tracing your face and neck before he pulled away from your lips when it became absolutely necessary. 
From there, the sunset and everything else became insignificant, everything could be crumbling around you and you wouldn’t pay it any mind; nothing mattered, not when Leto promised to love you until his very last breath here in the middle of nowhere. 
So when you eventually had your parents visit you on Caladan and announce to you that you had been sent there for them to agree with the Atreides upon arranging a marriage with Leto, you couldn’t be happier and it couldn’t be more convenient; you would have chosen him anyway, if given the choice.
Leto had the competence of making everything seem so easy, and he turned out to be quick to ease your worries about your upcoming future as a duchess.
Even under the looming political pressure of your marriage, this wedding meant a starting point for the rest of your life, a part you could not wait to share with him, even if it meant a lot of responsibilities and changes.
Then so suddenly, all at once, it all fell apart, everything. 
It was late in the night when you and Leto were laughing and dancing, rehearsing for the forthcoming wedding. Servants had knocked onto your shared room door, and Leto’s hand left your waist as he scurried away to answer the door, opening and making way for them to enter the room. 
They came in with a polite nod, one of them unrolling a parchment letter, reading out loud to the both of you.
The letter was from your father, announcing the news that your mother had died while on a mission, resulting in the need of your presence at your home land to take over her legacy and responsibilities for a while.
You didn’t understand what it involved right away, maybe from the shock of the sudden, dreadful news, the loss of your mother too hard to swallow.
You didn’t understand that it meant that you and Leto were bound to be no more, that either of you were now assigned to different fates and responsibilities, that the marriage was therefore called off for the moment being.
And you quite certainly didn't realize that the night you spent tossing and turning around your shared bed with eyes wide open until the sunrise was the last night by his side, that the morning you left was the last time you would see him.
Until years later, what felt like a lifetime.
When you came back to Caladan for political and business reasons, it was only because of the absolute necessity of your presence, otherwise you wouldn't have shown up.
Finding him again after so long drowned you right back again in the same hollow feeling you endured the moment you were drawn apart years ago, and while you mirrored his polite nod and smirk, you couldn't help but still feel the pain of being estranged so brutally, of seeing him again after so many years.
He was wearing the slowly appearing gray streaks of hair beautifully, and the beard suited him like he was made for it; it made his handsome face look a bit more harsh and severe, but he was a duke now, after all.
You lightly cleared your throat as you made your way to leave the meeting once it was over, troubled as you could feel the weight of his gaze burning holes through you all along. You could feel your heart pound through your ribcage the exact same way it used to when he held you when you were younger, and you ultimately came to the rotten conclusion that your stay here in his presence would be a tough, challenging time for you, and that dwelling on the past had been a bad idea, exactly like you had anticipated it to be. 
It was wonderful out there, just like you had remembered it to be. The view from the balcony offered you an endless panorama over Caladan and its lush lands, and while you loved your home land with your whole being, you couldn’t deny missing living on Caladan.
The fresh breeze of the night was nothing but pleasant, and even though you were slowly starting to feel goosebump growing over your skin, you figured the view of the sun starting to set was more important.
“I thought I could stay focused while in your presence.” you recognize his voice all too well, and you wonder if the shiver running down your spine is caused by his sudden apparition or the wind hitting you. “I was deeply wrong”
“Leto,” you chuckle sheepishly, blushing as you turn around and face him.
A bittersweet smile has quirked upon his face, and he steps further and approaches you. The years have been unkind to him, lines of wisdom and experience growing upon his face transforming him into a man hardened by duty. Yet, beneath the rough facade, you can still see the eyes and soul of the man you once knew and loved.
“Why only now?” he asks, a certain helplessness painted across his face.
“What?”
He sighs as he looks away, licks his lips as he walks besides you and grips the barrier of the balcony with both hands. You only hear the wind as you watch and wait for him to do, to say something.
“This should have been yours. All of this” he mutters, gaze fixed on the sight before him. The clouds look like cotton ripped apart and spread through the wide sky, and the sun setting over Caladan turns them into an abnormal color, one you wouldn't even be able to define. “I waited for you.” Leto declares, head turning to look back at you like he is trying to figure out how you feel or waiting for you to say something.
Your eyes close as a small exhale leaves your mouth. “Why should it matter now, Leto” you scoff, turning away to try to escape his gaze, heavier than you remember.
“It has always mattered” he declares, following your steps as you try to inch away from him. He calls your name in a weak plea, his hand coming to rest over your arm. “Look at me. Please”
You do. You turn back to him, and he looks at you like you will be slipping away from him any moment now, like you're just a ghost, like you're water in his bare hands. “Tell me you did not think of me all those years and I'll leave you alone.” he whispers feebly, face close to yours as he still holds onto your arm, and you can feel your breaths mingling from how close he is to you.
His unwavering gaze is locked on yours, desperately waiting for you to say something. Eventually, your lack of response speaks for itself, and he nods slightly. “That's what I thought.”
“Leto.”
His hands come to cup your face, holding it steady as with a sigh, his forehead rests against yours. Your eyelids fall shut under the weight of it all and you exhale softly, your hand wrapping around his wrist, stroking along his forearm.
“I have loved you since I met you. I should have found you and married you regardless.” he mutters, barely louder than a whisper. His declaration makes something flutter deep in your core, and you grimace like his words feel sour to hear. You should have done it differently, should have come back to Caladan after everything went back to normal after your mother's death.
“And your wife?” you rhetorically ask, with a dubious scoff.
“She's not– we never married.” he shakes his head, pulling away from your forehead to look back at you, your hand falling to your side again when you let go of his arm. His gaze and the way his eyebrows are angled weakly are conveying everything you need to know, confirming every conclusion you made. 
Your lips part slightly, some part of you refusing to believe in what he's indirectly telling you, refusing to believe that he gave up on some part of his life waiting for you.
“We were promised a marriage together, a life together” he continues, taking hold of your hand, fingers lacing with yours tentatively. “I always hoped you would come back and we would resume our life together where it stopped.”
“Now still?” you weakly ask, equally pained and somehow flattered that he never really got over you.
Again, the lack of answer and his previous actions prove the point, and you hold his hand tighter when you swallow with difficulty. Your other hand slightly trembles when you reach to touch his face, settling to rest at his bearded cheek, and you smile weakly as you trace the lines that you never got to witness appear. 
“We were so young” you smile, drawing one out of him. The corners of his lips turn upwards as his hand covers your own over his face, pulling it to bring it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles softly, the feeling of his warm breath over your skin taking you years back.
“Don't go back.” he begs against your hand, his voice wavering a little. There’s a glint in his eyes as his gaze darts up at you that makes it impossible for you to consider refusing and giving up on him again. “You belong here.”
Your eyebrows knit in uncertainty as you tear your gaze away from him, looking at the endless view again. You can't help but overthink every consequence coming back to Caladan is going to involve, for you as much as for Leto, and especially for his own concubine that is at this point already long forgotten by him.
This is unfair, but some part of you acknowledges your younger selves feelings and remembers how devastated you were to leave him; leaving again while knowing that he still cares after so many years and regrets not marrying you may hurt even more.
“This will make people talk, Leto.” you wince, looking back at him.
He shakes his head carefreely. “Let them.” he affirms with a dismissive scoff as his hands settle over your hips. You grin softly as he pulls you closer, and a soft exhale leaves your mouth when your arms wrap around his neck.
He takes a while to admire your face, how it has changed despite still remaining the one of the woman he fell in love with long ago.
When he kisses you, it is the exact same way he used to when you were young.
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