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Labyrinth | Evan Buckley
reader x evan buckley (911)
a/n: new show, new post. i don’t make the rules.
masterlist
You hated the way your heart felt in your chest whenever Evan Buckley would look at you with those stupid, annoying Evan Buckley eyes— like it was weightless, floating around your body between where it was supposed to be, your chest, to the pit of your stomach and then all the way down to your toes.
You hated the smile that was tattooed to your face when you chatted with the man, he could make the weather report interesting you swore it.
And the fact that he looked at you the same way that you looked at him? Well you hated that more than anything.
It was easy to pretend you felt nothing when you knew there truly was nothing. But then you started to look into the man’s eyes and see your future in their soft edges and endless pools of blue— in his even softer smile that was reserved only for you. The smile that would grow against his will at the sight of your own.
You ran into burning buildings as a living. You’ve jumped off of roofs and kicked down doors and nearly died more times than you could count— and the unknown, what could happen between you and the man that you had just come to terms with being in love with, well that was the scariest thing you had ever faced.
And the fact that you knew in your soul that he loved you back— that made it scarier. Because if Evan Buckley broke your heart, you weren’t sure you would ever recover.
Your head was thrown back in laugher at whatever stupid story Buck was telling, something about him swearing that his apartment was, without a doubt, haunted. And how the ghost was moving things to taunt him. (Little did the man know that it was most definitely Eddie and everyone in the 118 had been feeding the man ideas on what to do next for the past two months.)
His hands were moving around in that animated way that made the corners of your lips quirk upwards unnaturally, that big smile that was reserved only for him. “It’s not funny.” He insisted, fighting the grin but unable to not smile back.
“It’s a little bit funny.” You shrugged, pinching your fingers together with little space in between. “Do you need me to come scare the ghosts away for you.”
“Yes, actually.” He huffed, arms now crossed over his chest, pout painted on his pretty pink lips. “But if you end up possessed, don’t come crying to me.”
“Wow,” you floundered in mock offense, “so you wouldn’t save me? That’s unbelievably fake of you I can’t lie.”
Buck was silent for a moment, eyes finding yours with a misplaced seriousness considering the conversation you were nearly an hour into,
“I’d do literally anything for you.”
You felt the words tattoo themselves to your heart. You knew he meant it.
It clicked in that moment— what it was you weren’t entirely sure, but all at once you felt nothing. Nothing aside from the hand of yours that found his across the table, not remembering reaching over in the first place, and the warmth that found its place in your chest.
Again you watched your future in those blue eyes before speaking. “You scare me.” You admit finally after a moment of just watching— understanding each other.
He nodded knowingly.
“But I’m tired of being scared, Buck. I just wanna be happy.”
He turned his hand over to grab yours, fingers interlocking as he brought them up to those impossibly distracting lips of his. “You make me so happy.” He practically whispered against the back of your hand, pressing a kiss so soft into the skin, you weren’t sure if you had imagined it.
“Let me love you. Please let me love you, I’m so tired of pretending like I don’t.” You felt the passion in his voice down to your toes. That feather light feeling in your chest returned, and for once your brain wasn’t telling you to run.
“You’re really bad at pretending.” You whisper with a soft smile. “I don’t wanna be scared anymore.” You admit in a more serious tone. “I want to be loved by you, Buck.” You affirmed with a nod, hoping you wouldn’t regret it— knowing you wouldn’t.
His hand dropped yours, moving to cradle your face instead. He was so gentle, his eyes were so soft— you brought your fingers up to lightly pinch his chin, eyes fluttering closed as you moved in close enough for his nose to brush yours.
“I love you.” You finally admitted, the words that once held heavy in your tongue being set free.
He was quick to pull you in closer, lips meeting yours in the slowest, softest kiss of your life. One you weren’t sure you’d ever admit to having dreamt about.
It was still so so scary— loving Buck, letting him love you.
But even more worth it
#911 imagine#evan buckley imagine#buck imagine#buck x reader#evan buckley x reader#911 one shot#911 x reader
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This Love | Roy Kent
note; random ted lasso imagine for the girlies who are in love with roy kent (me). not proof read as per usual
There was no such thing as right person wrong time, you reminded yourself for the twentieth time in the past two months as you turned off your tv— absolutely tired of seeing your ex boyfriend blasted all over the football channels.
You had broken up about mid way threw his last season— well, he had broken up with you. You had been together for about a year and a half. A beautiful, really happy year and a half. Sure the man was an absolute grump, preferring more to groan than talk half the time, but he had the largest hart of any person you had ever met. His love was so pure and so kind.
The breakup was a bit of a blindside. He had been playing poorly, slowing down as a consequence of his age catching up. He was making mistakes. And Roy Kent did not make mistakes. So he did what only made sense to him in that moment and cut out all distractions. And you, well you were the biggest distraction of them all.
So you packed all of his things in a cardboard box and marched through the halls of the Richmond FC clubhouse, heals echoing across the lithium floor. Your head was high but your heart was in your stomach as you willed the tears to wait until you were safely back behind the tinted windows of your car.
You smiled at Higgins as you passed him outside of the locker room doors, receiving a sheepish wave back. You didn’t realize it at the time, but your smile paired with the dead look in your eye was absolutely terrifying. Next thing you knew you were dropping the box down on the floor in front of him, whipping your hair over your shoulder, and walking away with a sway of your hips that you know had his eyes glued to your admittedly amazing ass.
It was, of course, an act, cause there you were two months and a retirement later, heart still aching every time you saw the unfortunately handsome man across your screen.
Apparently Roy Kent did, in fact, make mistakes. Maybe not on the pitch, but literally everywhere else. Going home to a bed that didn’t have you in it? A mistake. Not having you by his side through the most difficult decision of his life? A mistake. Watching as you laughed along with Jamie’s flirting across the bar? A horrible, terrible fucking mistake.
Roy Kent was an angry man, but my god did he think he was going to explode in that moment. He wouldn’t be surprised if steam was comically coming out of his ears. He could only be brought to tear his eyes from you at the sound of the seat beside him being pulled out, and an insufferable American accent ordering a whiskey from the bar tender.
“You know Roy— you’re about as subtle as a hot pink convertible driving through a south Georgia suburb.” Ted nodded, eyes following Roy’s to you standing beside a smirking Jamie. “You know you breaking up with her hurt more than my own divorce.”
“Fuck off.” Roy muttered, throwing back the rest of his own whiskey.
“I’m serious man. Y’all two love each other— and no amount of pretending like your don’t will change that. That right there,” he paused, pointing to you—“that is a mighty fine woman. One who loves you. You don’t let something like that slip away if you can help it. Take it from me.”
You couldn’t help but to laugh at Jamie’s jokes. It was a good distraction from being in the same room as Roy for the first time since you had dropped off your stuff. Still you could feel him watching you without even glancing in his direction, like he’d never left. You had to be begged by Keeley to even show face, your dear friend insisting that everyone missed you loads. You had a feeling that she was just testing her theory of the two of you not being able to stay away from each other once you took away the distance.
The back of your neck burned, the same way it would when he’d kiss it in passing. Your stomach, once filled with butterflies, was now heavy with lead. You knew Jamie was only speaking with you to piss Roy off. You didn’t care. Or maybe you did, and that’s why you let it keep going.
You watched with confusion as Jamie’s eyes grew wide peering over your shoulder, “I’ve got to run now love.” He muttered, his thick accent mixed with both of your alcohol intake leaving you in confusion.
You could feel that burning feeling getting worse, palms slicking with nervous sweat. You turned around to to met with a wide chest clad in all black, tipping your head back your eyes danced over a familiar bearded chin up to a set of dark eyes that set you on fire. The familiar, gruff man grabbed your wrist, taking your drink and throwing it back himself before dragging you out to the porch.
Your feet were moving faster than your brain, still struggling to process if this was that recurring dirty dream you kept having, or a much more frightening reality. The cold nipping at your bare arms answered that one quickly— you were always on a beach in that dream.
Before you know it Roy had your back against the railing of a porch, body warmed from where it was trapped against his own. He brought his head down against yours, eyes screwed shut like he was in physical pain. You brought your hands against his chest, fists closed tightly around the material of his overpriced black suit jacket. He smelled familiar, like the cologne you had gotten him for his birthday.
“I’m such a fucking prick.” He muttered against your hair, bringing his hand to cradle the back of your head.
“Damn right.” You responded through a teary laugh against the side of his neck. “Proper fucking idiot you are.”
He let out a gruff laugh, hands coming up to cradle your face— pulling you back gently so he could look at you. His eyes were soft, that special look that he saved just for you painted across his face. You loved him so much that it physically hurt. Even after he took a knife and stabbed you in the chest.
Right person wrong time didn’t exist, because even through everything, Roy never stopped being your right person.
“I will spend every last day of my fucking life making this up to you. If you’ll have me back.” He muttered, eyes scanning your face with such sincere regret you might’ve fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up.
Maybe it was stupid to take him back, but you hadn’t realized until that very moment that Roy Kent owned a very large piece of you. And standing there in his arms, you had finally gotten it back.
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This Love | Roy Kent
note; random ted lasso imagine for the girlies who are in love with roy kent (me). not proof read as per usual
masterlist
There was no such thing as right person wrong time, you reminded yourself for the twentieth time in the past two months as you turned off your tv— absolutely tired of seeing your ex boyfriend blasted all over the football channels.
You had broken up about mid way threw his last season— well, he had broken up with you. You had been together for about a year and a half. A beautiful, really happy year and a half. Sure the man was an absolute grump, preferring more to groan than talk half the time, but he had the largest heart of any person you had ever met. His love was so pure and so kind.
The breakup was a bit of a blindside. He had been playing poorly, slowing down as a consequence of his age catching up. He was making mistakes. And Roy Kent did not make mistakes. So he did what only made sense to him in that moment and cut out all distractions. And you, well you were the biggest distraction of them all.
So you packed all of his things in a cardboard box and marched through the halls of the Richmond FC clubhouse, heals echoing across the lithium floor. Your head was high but your heart was in your stomach as you willed the tears to wait until you were safely back behind the tinted windows of your car.
You smiled at Higgins as you passed him outside of the locker room doors, receiving a sheepish wave back. You didn’t realize it at the time, but your smile paired with the dead look in your eye was absolutely terrifying. Next thing you knew you were dropping the box down on the floor in front of him, whipping your hair over your shoulder, and walking away with a sway of your hips that you know had his eyes glued to your admittedly amazing ass.
It was, of course, an act, cause there you were two months and a retirement later, heart still aching every time you saw the unfortunately handsome man across your screen.
Apparently Roy Kent did, in fact, make mistakes. Maybe not on the pitch, but literally everywhere else. Going home to a bed that didn’t have you in it? A mistake. Not having you by his side through the most difficult decision of his life? A mistake. Watching as you laughed along with Jamie’s flirting across the bar? A horrible, terrible fucking mistake.
Roy Kent was an angry man, but my god did he think he was going to explode in that moment. He wouldn’t be surprised if steam was comically coming out of his ears. He could only be brought to tear his eyes from you at the sound of the seat beside him being pulled out, and an insufferable American accent ordering a whiskey from the bar tender.
“You know Roy— you’re about as subtle as a hot pink convertible driving through a south Georgia suburb.” Ted nodded, eyes following Roy’s to you standing beside a smirking Jamie. “You know you breaking up with her hurt more than my own divorce.”
“Fuck off.” Roy muttered, throwing back the rest of his own whiskey.
“I’m serious man. Y’all two love each other— and no amount of pretending like your don’t will change that. That right there,” he paused, pointing to you—“that is a mighty fine woman. One who loves you. You don’t let something like that slip away if you can help it. Take it from me.”
You couldn’t help but to laugh at Jamie’s jokes. It was a good distraction from being in the same room as Roy for the first time since you had dropped off your stuff. Still you could feel him watching you without even glancing in his direction, like he’d never left. You had to be begged by Keeley to even show face, your dear friend insisting that everyone missed you loads. You had a feeling that she was just testing her theory of the two of you not being able to stay away from each other once you took away the distance.
The back of your neck burned, the same way it would when he’d kiss it in passing. Your stomach, once filled with butterflies, was now heavy with lead. You knew Jamie was only speaking with you to piss Roy off. You didn’t care. Or maybe you did, and that’s why you let it keep going.
You watched with confusion as Jamie’s eyes grew wide peering over your shoulder, “I’ve got to run now love.” He muttered, his thick accent mixed with both of your alcohol intake leaving you in confusion.
You could feel that burning feeling getting worse, palms slicking with nervous sweat. You turned around to to met with a wide chest clad in all black, tipping your head back your eyes danced over a familiar bearded chin up to a set of dark eyes that set you on fire. The familiar, gruff man grabbed your wrist, taking your drink and throwing it back himself before dragging you out to the porch.
Your feet were moving faster than your brain, still struggling to process if this was that recurring dirty dream you kept having, or a much more frightening reality. The cold nipping at your bare arms answered that one quickly— you were always on a beach in that dream.
Before you know it Roy had your back against the railing of a porch, body warmed from where it was trapped against his own. He brought his head down against yours, eyes screwed shut like he was in physical pain. You brought your hands against his chest, fists closed tightly around the material of his overpriced black suit jacket. He smelled familiar, like the cologne you had gotten him for his birthday.
“I’m such a fucking prick.” He muttered against your hair, bringing his hand to cradle the back of your head.
“Damn right.” You responded through a teary laugh against the side of his neck. “Proper fucking idiot you are.”
He let out a gruff laugh, hands coming up to cradle your face— pulling you back gently so he could look at you. His eyes were soft, that special look that he saved just for you painted across his face. You loved him so much that it physically hurt. Even after he took a knife and stabbed you in the chest.
Right person wrong time didn’t exist, because even through everything, Roy never stopped being your right person.
“I will spend every last day of my fucking life making this up to you. If you’ll have me back.” He muttered, eyes scanning your face with such sincere regret you might’ve fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up.
Maybe it was stupid to take him back, but you hadn’t realized until that very moment that Roy Kent owned a very large piece of you. And standing there in his arms, you had finally gotten it back.
#ted lasso#ted lasso imagine#ted lasso one shot#roy kent#roy kent imagine#roy kent x reader#roy kent one shot#jamie tartt
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Providing Protection | Steve Harrington
Steve Harrington x Reader, Dustin Henderson x Sister!Reader
Summary; Dustin enlists Steve Harrington to protect his older sister from the douche bags of Hawkins High. It turned out much, much differently then he was expecting.
materlist
Keep reading
#stranger things imagine#stranger things one shot#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader
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Willow | Anthony Bridgerton
anthony bridgerton x reader
summary; based on willow by taylor swift
masterlist
You didn’t have any intentions of marrying, and you made sure that your parents knew it. It was your very first season— one that came later than most debutants as an attempt to appease you by your father. Much to your dismay, he made it clear that if he received an appropriate offer for your hand, he would take it.
You didn’t believe in falling in love, not really. People have some choice in who they love— marriages were arranged and couples fell into a routine. But they did not fall in love— no that was learned. Your parents learned to love each other, as did your older sister and her husband. And you supposed, when the time came, you would learn to love your husband as well.
Anthony Bridgerton took your world by storm. You didn’t know when, where, why, or how for that matter— but he ripped through you like a fierce wind, leaving debris and destruction in his wake. All at once your thoughts about learning to love were thrown at the window.
It was as though something supernatural had taken a hold of you, that was the only explanation you would accept. Because it made no sense, no sense that being around him sent your heartbeat to your toes. You still refused to make it easy, painting on an impassive face when you saw the man— though it never deterred his attention. He always greeted you with an insufferable smirk that was almost guaranteed to produce a rose color flush to your cheeks and neck. It was infuriating.
“You’re hiding.” Anthony directed towards you in a voice that only you could hear. He had slipped in beside you undetected, you for sure would’ve ran in the opposite direction had you seen him.
“This place is insufferable.” You responded, voice clipped and to the point. You were at yet another ball, watching couples twirls around the floor in a choreographed style that made your head hurt. It was all tight corsets and floral perfume sprayed a few times too many. You found yourself dodging suitors as if it were a sport and you were a professional. Clearly you had made a fumble.
“Do you even try to have fun?” The man questioned, though you knew it was a tease.
“You are one to talk, Lord Bridgerton. Very seldom do I see you do anything other than frown.”
“You look for me often, do you? I am flattered, truly. You have stunned me beyond words.” Anthony replied, his smirk turning into a wide grin.
You hated how it made your stomach turn, hated yourself for falling so weak at the sight of this man. His words had a way of cutting through you, like a knife. And god were you hungry for more.
“Clearly that is not the case, as you have yet to close your mouth.” To anyone else it would have seemed inappropriate, your parents would have had a heart attack if they heard you speak to the Viscount in such a manner. But Anthony just laughed, his head thrown back and a hand over his chest.
The swell of pride you felt at the glares from the other ladies in attendance made you angry. You hated that you felt this way, yet you couldn’t push it down. Your mother had laughed when you informed her of your qualms, settling for an infuriating knowing look rather than a response. What you needed was a trip to the doctor.
“Dance with me.” Anthony instructed, holding out a hand for you to take.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Your brows furrowed as you looked up at the man, eyes shifting from his hand to his own. “I have never once seen you dance at a function.” You pointed out.
“Yes, well I have never had someone that I wanted to dance with. But I wish to dance with you— and people are starting to stare. So unless you desire to cause a scene, I suggest you accept.” He was smug, and he was wrecking all of your plans.
He had somehow snuck his way past your defenses and onto your pillow. You dreamt of floating down the gardens, arm linked with his. And as you took Anthony’s hand, it felt like you were returning home.
You rushed out into the brisk night after your dance, leaving Anthony frozen and confused in his place. You couldn’t think— couldn’t breath as the feeling of his large hand against your waist lingered.
He snapped out of his daze quickly, following you into the dark of the night. “What on earth is the matter now?” He questioned with wide eyes, concern clear on his face.
“Do not look at me like that.” You instructed, though it was not at all intimidating. Your glare, however, was a bit more so.
“Was it that bad?” Anthony questioned with a grin, taking note of your flushed cheeks as he moved in closer.
“You love that I hate you.” You huffed, arms crossed over your chest as you met the eyes of the most infuriating man in existence. His gaze was soft as he brought his hand up to rest on your forearm. He wore a sweet smile that made your heart twist in your chest.
“I believe it would he far more accurate to say that you hate that you love me.” His voice was soft as he brought his head down to rest against your own. “I too love you, I’m afraid. Very troublesome it is.”
“That is impossibly rude.” You muttered, though jot pulling away. Anthony was warm and safe.
The man let out a puff of laughter, his nose bumping yours.
“Apologies, my love. I shall spend the rest of our lives making up for it.”
#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton one shot#bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton one shot
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Call it What You Want | Anthony Bridgerton
anthony bridgerton x reader
based on this prompt list of taylor swift songs
this is my first bridgerton fic!! very short but also very sweet.. i love it
masterlist
You loved to hate the the Ton and the drama that came with a new season. The Ton loved to hate you too, to be fair. You had a reputation for being less than ladylike, lasting two seasons more than your family would have wished.
You refused to compromise your identity for the sake of marrying, and London’s high society wasn’t a fan of those who challenged their ways. You would be fine never marrying, you told yourself. Though a small part of you had always desired to fall in love.
This season, though, you were fairly quiet— something the Lords and Ladies were not used to. You enjoyed causing a spectacle, you knew you’d get the attention whether you wanted it or not— so you preferred it on your own terms. You were more focused on other matters this time around, it seemed. At least that’s what Lady Whistledown reported as speculation for your absence.
People nearly exploded when they caught sight of you promenading with the Ton’s most infamous rake— the Viscount Anthony Bridgerton.
You weren’t sure how it started. One day you and Anthony were familiar strangers, and the next you were meeting nearly every morning for conversation. He was stand-offish and cold but also kind. He didn’t look at you the way everyone else did. He wanted to hear what you had to say.
“Lady Whistledown has been particularly interested in you as of late,” Anthony spoke lowly as you walked through the public gardens. It was a beautiful day and you refused to let it go to waste— much to your parents dismay. If it were up to them they would keep you locked inside all day, far away from the judging eyes of the public.
You laughed softly, taking his arm as you walked through the blooming tulips, “I did not take you for a gossip, Anthony Bridgerton. What else are you keeping from me?”
“Other than my affections for a beautiful Lady who drags me through the grass in my newly polished shoes?” He questioned jokingly, pulling you closer.
“Oh no— that you have hidden quite poorly, my Lord. Your smile says it all.”
“You shall be my wife soon enough— then I will not have to hide anything.” He nodded, spoken with strong words and clear intentions. Nobody had looked at you the way he did before. Or spoken to you with such care. He truly was lovely.
You pulled the man to a stop, rubbing your lips together as you tried to find your words. You felt guilty and you hated it. You wanted nothing more than to marinate in the sweetness of his spoken poetry— and gentle eyes as he said them. “I am afraid of what they’ll say of you shall we marry. You should not be brought into this mess I have create for myself. And I do not need you to save me.”
You did love the man— and you did wish to marry him. He was everything you were sure you would never find.
“Respectfully, Lady Y/N, I do not give a damn what those people speak of. I only care what you have to say, as you are the one I intend to spend the rest of my life with.”
Your eyes began to mist over as he spoke, never one for mincing his words. You watched as he reached into his pocket at a slow pace— one you had always teased him for. The man was never in a rush, not even as he grinned down on you with a small velvet box in his much larger hand. “So, will you spend the rest of your life with me? I cannot promise you that it will always be perfect, as I am imperfect— but I will spend my every waking day ensuring that you are your happiest.”
You allowed a few tears to fall as you reached out to grab the man’s wrist, looking from the beautiful diamond ring to his eyes that somehow shone brighter. You recognized it as his mother’s. “Of course I will, you absolute fool.”
Anthony grinned, sliding the ring on your finger with careful hands. You found yourself able to ignore the shocked stares from everyone around you— knowing that none of that mattered anymore. He would find his way to you always, regardless of what anyone else had to say about it. The thought made you smile.
#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton one shot#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton one shot
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Turtleneck | Derek Morgan
Derek Morgan x reader
Summary; Derek leaves a surprise for the reader to deal with in the morning— in the form of telling her friends about their not so secret secret relationship.
You looked in the mirror of your hotel room, pulling your hair to the side so you could get a better look at your neck. You groaned, throwing your head back.
“What the hell, Derek?” you yelled out, turning your head to face the bathroom so he could hear you through the cracked door.
“What’s going on, babygirl?” Derek questioned, his brows furrowed as he stepped out of your shared bathroom with a towel wrapped low on his waist.
“This is ‘what’s going on,” you pouted, pointing at the huge purple bruise that sat ugly on the side of your neck.
Derek smirked, chuckling low, but loud enough for you to hear him, “Well that doesn’t look like much of a problem to me, babygirl.”
Derek walked towards you slowly, turning around so you faced him head on. He lifted your chin gently to get a better look at the bruise, rubbing his thumb softly across the darkened skin. He leaned down to place a kiss where he left the mark, not missing the way you breathed out shakily, your head leaning back against the wall.
“I’m sure it’s not, but I don’t need the team and the police officers staring at this ugly thing you left on me,” you pouted, moving away from Derek so you could sift through your makeup bag in hopes of finding some form of full coverage concealer or foundation.
You and Derek’s relationship was on the low, nobody knowing about it in spite of a suspicious Emily Prentiss and JJ, who’s thoughts were never confirmed. Sure you guys shared a room on a case occasionally, but that was nothing new. You’ve shared with Spencer before too.
“Dammit,” you groaned, not finding what you were looking for. Apparently when you were packing you were confident that you’d be getting plenty of sleep on this case, because you didn’t pack a concealer at all.
“What’s wrong, beautiful? You not enjoying my art work? ‘Cause I’m loving it,” Derek smirked, pulling a shirt over his now dry chest.
“No, I’m not enjoying it. And I have absolutely nothing to cover it, not even a scarf.”
Derek scoffed, “Well that’s ‘cause it’s almost 70 degrees out,”
“I don’t understand why you’re so calm about this,” you sighed, throwing your body down on the double sized bed, “—nobody knows about us, Der. And I think the quarter sized love bite on the side of my neck gives it away pretty clearly.”
“Listen, babygirl, you know I don’t care if the team knows. I’d shout that you were mine off the rooftops if you’d let me. But, if it’s bothering you this much, just go ask Emily if you can borrow one of her turtlenecks.” Derek shrugged, leaning down so he could press a kiss to your cheek. “I’m gonna go grab breakfast with Reid. I’ll bring you back a muffin or something.”
You bid your farewells to Derek as he exited the hotel room, leaving you to panic on your own. You hadn’t even had time to get dressed, clad in one of his shirts that was way too big for you and a pair of plaid pajama pants.
You decided that your best bet was to, in fact, take Derek’s advice in borrowing a shirt from Emily. You knew that it meant coming clean about your relationship but— desperate times called for desperate measures.
You grabbed the shirt that you had initially intended on wearing— a red, kind of low cut blouse like had a loose fit— and your key card, knowing that Emily would be willing to make a trade because she absolutely loved that top of yours.
You tip toed out of your room, your feet clad in fuzzy socks that Penelope had gotten you for Christmas one year. You knocked on JJ and Emily’s door quietly, not wanting to alert the rest of the team of your presence. The last thing you needed was the whole team seeing your giant hickey.
“Who is it?” You could hear JJ ask from the other side of the door.
“It’s me,” you sighed, knowing that she of course recognized your voice.
You slipped in the room quickly, checking behind you to make sure nobody saw. “Look, I need a favor, Emily,” you sighed, turning to face the woman.
“Woah,” she gasped when she took you in, JJ watching from beside her with a huge grin, “what the hell is that?” She questioned, gesturing to the mark on your neck.
“It’s a hickey,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating up immensely.
JJ covered her mouth, hiding her laughter as Emily turned to her with a grin.
“Hmm,” she paused, a fake pensive expression painted on her face, “a hickey, huh? And how’d you get the hickey?”
“I got it from Derek,” you replied if a sheepish voice, bringing your hand up to rub the mark, which was still kind of tender, softly.
“She got it from Derek. What do you think, JJ?”
“I think it’s about time she finally owned up to it,” JJ grinned, turning around so she could finish getting herself ready, “we’re happy for you, you know? We can tell you make each other happy.”
You only sent her a small smile, your cheeks still on fire from the conversation.
“And how can I help you this fine morning, Mrs. Morgan,” Emily teased, her grin widening as you groaned.
“I wanted to see if I could borrow a turtleneck. I even brought you a trade,” you shrugged, holding up the shirt you brought for her.
“Well how could I say no to that face?”
“You mean, how could you say no to the shirt you’ve been trying to steal from me for months?” You corrected, pulling Derek’s gray shirt from over your head and taking the emerald green turtleneck from Emily’s hand and slipping it on.
“You know me so well,” Emily cooed, prompting an eye roll from you.
Later in the afternoon you were stood beside Spencer outside of a crime scene.
“Are you wearing Emily’s shirt?” He asked in a curious voice, surveying your appearance with his inquisitive gaze. “And is that— a hickey?”
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Tidal Wave | Yelena Belova
MINOR BLACK WIDOW SPOILERS - also some of it is non canon but who cares
yelena belova x reader
summary; you and yelena worked together in the red room— she adjusts to your free life much easier than you do
masterlist
You hadn’t known that you craved freedom until you felt it for the first time.
First came puff of red smoke, then the heat— like you had jumped straight into flames. You and Yelena both looked up at each other, brows furrowed in confusion. What were you doing?
What had you done?
Yelena looked down at the woman who clutched the vial that had freed your mind, pushing her hair away from her forehead. You could see a few tears slip from her eyes before she ran a hand down her face.
Next came the slice of a blade, hot down the side of your thigh as the blonde cut out your tracker. You felt so dizzy the pain barely registered. Five minutes ago you were killing this woman with no problem, and now all you could think about was the red on your ledger.
Yelena tugged you up by the crook of your elbow, grabbing the small black case from the woman and then taking off in the opposite direction— tugging you firmly behind her.
You had just killed that woman.
Next came a series of increasingly confusing events, including teaming up with a fugitive Avenger— who was also apparently your closest confidant’s sister?
You went from being controlled to taking down the Red Room in a span of time so fast, you swore you had whiplash. Yelena had adjusted so well it made you feel a little ashamed— she was quick to buy her own clothes and start a new life, you couldn’t even decide what to eat on your own.
You felt like a lost puppy, following her around with sad eyes pointed to the ground. Your hands still felt slick from the blood they had spilled, everything catching up to you all at once— hitting like a tidal wave.
You couldn’t sleep more than a couple hours at a time, the vivid memories of the lives you had taken haunted you. Part of you welcomed them, ashamed that you hadn’t been strong enough to fight off the control. The more rational part reminded you that it was science, there was no beating it. But you had never been very rational. The weight of the life you lived thrummed steadily against your brow bone, refusing to let you forget.
Yelena truly was a beacon for you. She was a life raft, the only thing keeping your head above the water. You two had been close before, as close as you were allowed to be given your circumstances— but this feeling of having a person was all new.
You watched Natasha and Yelena go back and forth over your breakfast cereal. It was something brightly colored and unnaturally sweet, Yelena had insisted that you’d love it.
“What do you think?” Yelena questioned, her accent thick as she looked over your with her wide green eyes.
Your face flushed at the sudden attention from the sisters. You had no idea what they were talking about, having completely tuned out the bickering. “About what?” You questioned with a full mouth, choosing to ignore the incredulous expression on Yelena’s face as a result.
“Oh, you must be joking! We’ve been talking about this for the past ten minutes. Who would win in a fight: Captain America or the Red Guardian?”
“You are joking.” You replied with a flat expression, noticing Natasha’s smirk out of the corner of your eye.
“No!” Yelena responded excitedly, grabbing your arm in a too tight grip. “Natasha says that she think Alexei would beat Captain America! She is insane.” She added, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
“She is messing with you.” You rolled your eyes.
Yelena paused before looking at her sister with betrayal painted on her face, as if she couldn’t believe it.
“It’s true,” Natasha admitted with a nonchalant shrug, “it’s a little funny, you have to admit.” She stood from her spot at the table, taking her own bowl into the kitchen of the small apartment you had set up shop in.
A small smile appeared on your own face before you could think to stop it.
“I have not seen you smile in weeks.” Yelena said softly, head low so she could meet your eyes. “I have missed it. You are so sad all of the time— I wish I could make it go away.” She reached across the table, taking your hand in her own. Your eyes flickered town to the green painted nails and rings that adorned her fingers as she intertwined them.
“Me too.” You whispered, your smile turning sad as your eyes filled with tears. “But you’re helping me more than I think you could ever know. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Your eyes shone with unshed tears as they met hers. Yelena brought your intertwined hands up to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your palm. “I will always be here for you. I promise.”
“I believe you.”
She removed her hand from your grip, thumb coming up to wipe away the tears you didn’t know had fallen. For the sake of your pride, you pretended not to notice Natasha lingering in the doorway.
Yelena’s hand rested gently on your cheek, her forehead coming to lean softly against your own. “We should get a dog.”
You let out a laugh that time, a genuine one— though it was small it made a smile bloom on Yelena’s face. Your nose bumped hers softly.
“Yes. Let’s get a dog.”
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Afterglow | Steve Rogers
steve rogers x reader
masterlist
based on this prompt list of Taylor Swift Songs
summary; a really solid mix of angst and fluff with a happy ending
I blew things out of proportion, now you’re blue
You felt guilty more than anything. Steve Rogers was quite possible the best person you had ever met. He was kind and smart and oh so caring. The second you met the man you were his, whether he knew it or not. And lucky for you, he looked at you the same way.
You had been together for about four months before the honeymoon phase started to fade. It was your fault and you knew it— you just couldn’t help the thoughts that started to bleed in. Steve was far too good for you— the same qualities that brought you in would soon tear you apart. You felt guilty, like you were holding him back. Your past was jaded where his was honorable, your intentions in shades of gray where his were black and white.
You weren’t a bad person, but you sure as hell couldn’t compare to the man you had grown to love. Like most heroes with questionable origins, you had gotten your powers through HYDRA— albeit not by your own free will. Joining the Avengers for you was a safety net, Steve joined as a call to duty.
You had a past of ruining the good things in your life. And Steve had a past of loving another woman. Those two things didn’t mix well.
You had convinced yourself that he was still in love with Peggy Carter, and in all honesty it wasn’t a very far reach. When he talked about his first love his eyes burned brighter than you had ever seen them. She too was exceptional in every way— a force.
It hadn’t come up until you and Steve argued one morning. It had started small, he had canceled your lunch date to help Bucky with something or another. Normally it wouldn’t have bothered you— if it hadn’t been the third time in a row. Or if Bucky actually needed the help, but the man was fine— he even said so himself. You knew what it was, it was Steve desperately clinging onto his past. He would kill himself trying to bring back an old Bucky Barnes who no longer existed.
Peggy Carter was a very large part of his past. She was his first love, his soulmate if those existed— so when he brought her up in the argument, all hell broke loose.
“It always comes back to her,” you laughed incredulously, though there was no humor in it, “unbelievable.” You ran a hand down your face as you sat at the edge of your bed.
“What is that supposed to mean?” He questioned, face red with anger as he stopped in front of you. This was by far the biggest fight you’d ever had.
“I will never measure up to the memory of Peggy Carter. In your head she’s the perfect woman. I can’t compete.” You wanted so badly to cry, eyes so thick with tears you couldn’t see Steve’s face. You wouldn’t let the dam break... just to spite him if anything. A voice inside your head reminded you that Steve wouldn’t receive any satisfaction from your crying. He was good like that.
Put you in jail for something you didn’t do
“I don’t want you to.” He stressed, kneeling down in front of you, “I just want you to be honest with me. To tell me how you’re feeling. When you’re feeling it— don’t just keep it inside until it boils over.” He placed a hand on your knee to balance himself, the other tilting your chin so he could look into your eyes.
When you blinked the tears escaped, granting you full vision of Steve’s own sad face. His thumb swept the tears away, keeping its spot on your cheek so you wouldn’t look away.
“I want to be with you. Not Peggy or anyone else. And I need you to believe me when I tell you that— I need you to know that I wouldn’t lie to you.” He reaffirmed, leaning his forehead against your own.
The heat from his body surrounded you like a blanket. You were always so comfortable around him, he made you feel so safe.
Thought I had reason to attack but no
“I just don’t understand,” you whispered out, nestling into his large palm, “you’re this amazing human being. You’re so good and I don’t get how you could feel all those things for me.” You paused, shaking your head as if that would unjumble your thoughts.
“And it’s confusing and I get in my own head and ruin things. I think me saying them hurts less than if you were to say them.” You confessed.
It’s all me in my head, I’m the one who burned us down. But it’s not what I meant, sorry that I hurt you
You hated how self-destructive you were. And you weren’t sure if being aware was better or worse— because you fell into your own trap every time anyways. You always ended up hurting the people you loved.
“You’re amazing. And brave and beautiful and you make me happy. It’s okay to hurt and to be broken, and I know it’s hard to talk about it. But I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”
You reached up, placing your own hand gentle at the base of his neck. You had never been seen in the way Steve saw you. He understood what it meant to be broken— to lose and then regain control of your own life. He knew you were hurting and wanted nothing more than to ice your bruises.
“I don’t wanna fight with you. But sometimes I feel like I don’t know how not to.” You admitted, pulling back so you could look into his eyes. This tears were back but this time you didn’t will them away.
I don’t wanna do, I don’t wanna do this to you
“Next time tell me when something is bothering you— even if you think it’ll bother me. I want to know. I’d listen to every thought that passed your mind if you’d let me.” He laughed quietly, resulting in your smile.
“I think I love you.” You paused, letting out a shaky breath, “And that really really scares me. I don’t wanna ruin this.”
I don’t wanna lose, I don’t wanna lose this with you
“I know I love you.” He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “And I don’t plan on letting you go.”
It’s all me, just don’t go. Meet me in the Afterglow.
#marvel imagine#marvel one shot#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers one shot#steve rogers imagine#avengers x reader#avengers imagine#avengers one shot
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send in some requests!! preferably marvel or criminal minds, but anything works :)
#marvel imagine#criminal minds imagine#bucky barnes imagine#steve rogers imagine#loki imagine#bucky barnes x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#yelena belova one shot#yelena belova imagine#yelena belova x reader#loki x reader#steve rogers x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#aaron hotchner x reader#derek morgan imagine
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Old Betrayals | Bucky Barnes
bucky barnes x reader
a/n: i think i��m going to make this into a little mini series fic, let me know if you wanna be tagged :)
masterlist
You didn’t know how to explain the feeling that Steve Rogers gave you, the way that his love coursed through you. Like a flame devouring a wick, he consumed you— slow burning until you were a puddle at his feet.
It was scary, in the way that roller coasters are. Fun and freeing in a confusing way that you couldn’t really wrap your head around. He was beautiful and angelic, and he was yours.
You felt lucky to know that he loved you in the same way that you loved him, there were never any questions about that.
And then suddenly, like a rug being pulled out from under your feet, he was gone. No warning, no goodbye— because four years and apparently you hadn’t earned that courtesy.
It was so insane, so mind shattering that you didn’t even know how to react. Like a body in shock, you felt numb to it all— you couldn’t feel the knife sticking out of your back, but the trail of blood followed you everywhere.
Suddenly Sam was Captain America and Wanda was missing and it felt like your world was ending again. Everything went from moving impossibly slow to moving impossibly fast, it felt like you’d blink your eyes and open them to another disaster.
You developed an odd kinship with Bucky, of all people. He was quiet and brooding and lurked in the shadows, but after awhile your eyes always seemed to find him. There was a weird comfort in knowing that someone was hurting as much as you were, and maybe that made you a bad person— but you had spent the past five years with the weight of the world on your shoulders. Five years spent putting yourself last. You deserved to be a little selfish, Steve sure as hell had.
You liked to think that Bucky held that same comfort in you. He had softened with time, and you felt guilty for enjoying it so much. But you had never seen eyes like his, so sad and beautiful. With every smile in your direction, another broken bone mended.
“You okay?” The gruff man questioned from his spot on Tony’s old favorite recliner. It was ironic that Bucky had taken a liking to it, considering their history. They had more in common than Tony ever would have admitted.
You supposed you had dazed off, eyes glued to the credits on the screen. The movie you had been watching was an okay one, nothing special— another one ticked off of Bucky’s list.
You hummed in confirmation. “I’m fine, just thinking I guess.”
“Don’t hurt yourself.” He smirked, a little too proud at his joke.
You rolled your eyes, unable to keep the smile off of your own face. “You’re a loser.” Your eyes found his, shining in the dull orange twinged lamp light, still somehow beautiful.
You left the conversation at that, not finding it in yourself to continue. You knew that’s something he would understand. You frowned at the twinge in your stomach, furious at the betrayal.
As much as you liked Bucky, you absolutely hated how he made you feel— hopeful in a way that had gotten you hurt before.
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Old Betrayals | Bucky Barnes
bucky barnes x reader
a/n: i think i’m going to make this into a little mini series fic, let me know if you wanna be tagged :)
masterlist
You didn’t know how to explain the feeling that Steve Rogers gave you, the way that his love coursed through you. Like a flame devouring a wick, he consumed you— slow burning until you were a puddle at his feet.
It was scary, in the way that roller coasters are. Fun and freeing in a confusing way that you couldn’t really wrap your head around. He was beautiful and angelic, and he was yours.
You felt lucky to know that he loved you in the same way that you loved him, there were never any questions about that.
And then suddenly, like a rug being pulled out from under your feet, he was gone. No warning, no goodbye— because four years and apparently you hadn’t earned that courtesy.
It was so insane, so mind shattering that you didn’t even know how to react. Like a body in shock, you felt numb to it all— you couldn’t feel the knife sticking out of your back, but the trail of blood followed you everywhere.
Suddenly Sam was Captain America and Wanda was missing and it felt like your world was ending again. Everything went from moving impossibly slow to moving impossibly fast, it felt like you’d blink your eyes and open them to another disaster.
You developed an odd kinship with Bucky, of all people. He was quiet and brooding and lurked in the shadows, but after awhile your eyes always seemed to find him. There was a weird comfort in knowing that someone was hurting as much as you were, and maybe that made you a bad person— but you had spent the past five years with the weight of the world on your shoulders. Five years spent putting yourself last. You deserved to be a little selfish, Steve sure as hell had.
You liked to think that Bucky held that same comfort in you. He had softened with time, and you felt guilty for enjoying it so much. But you had never seen eyes like his, so sad and beautiful. With every smile in your direction, another broken bone mended.
“You okay?” The gruff man questioned from his spot on Tony’s old favorite recliner. It was ironic that Bucky had taken a liking to it, considering their history. They had more in common than Tony ever would have admitted.
You supposed you had dazed off, eyes glued to the credits on the screen. The movie you had been watching was an okay one, nothing special— another one ticked off of Bucky’s list.
You hummed in confirmation. “I’m fine, just thinking I guess.”
“Don’t hurt yourself.” He smirked, a little too proud at his joke.
You rolled your eyes, unable to keep the smile off of your own face. “You’re a loser.” Your eyes found his, shining in the dull orange twinged lamp light, still somehow beautiful.
You left the conversation at that, not finding it in yourself to continue. You knew that’s something he would understand. You frowned at the twinge in your stomach, furious at the betrayal.
As much as you liked Bucky, you absolutely hated how he made you feel— hopeful in a way that had gotten you hurt before.
#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky imagine#bucky barnes one shot#avengers oneshot#avengers imagine#marvel x reader#marvel imagines#marvel imagine
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part two where they get a dog and kiss?
Tidal Wave | Yelena Belova
MINOR BLACK WIDOW SPOILERS - also some of it is non canon but who cares
yelena belova x reader
summary; you and yelena worked together in the red room— she adjusts to your free life much easier than you do
masterlist
You hadn’t known that you craved freedom until you felt it for the first time.
First came puff of red smoke, then the heat— like you had jumped straight into flames. You and Yelena both looked up at each other, brows furrowed in confusion. What were you doing?
What had you done?
Yelena looked down at the woman who clutched the vial that had freed your mind, pushing her hair away from her forehead. You could see a few tears slip from her eyes before she ran a hand down her face.
Next came the slice of a blade, hot down the side of your thigh as the blonde cut out your tracker. You felt so dizzy the pain barely registered. Five minutes ago you were killing this woman with no problem, and now all you could think about was the red on your ledger.
Yelena tugged you up by the crook of your elbow, grabbing the small black case from the woman and then taking off in the opposite direction— tugging you firmly behind her.
You had just killed that woman.
Next came a series of increasingly confusing events, including teaming up with a fugitive Avenger— who was also apparently your closest confidant’s sister?
You went from being controlled to taking down the Red Room in a span of time so fast, you swore you had whiplash. Yelena had adjusted so well it made you feel a little ashamed— she was quick to buy her own clothes and start a new life, you couldn’t even decide what to eat on your own.
You felt like a lost puppy, following her around with sad eyes pointed to the ground. Your hands still felt slick from the blood they had spilled, everything catching up to you all at once— hitting like a tidal wave.
You couldn’t sleep more than a couple hours at a time, the vivid memories of the lives you had taken haunted you. Part of you welcomed them, ashamed that you hadn’t been strong enough to fight off the control. The more rational part reminded you that it was science, there was no beating it. But you had never been very rational. The weight of the life you lived thrummed steadily against your brow bone, refusing to let you forget.
Yelena truly was a beacon for you. She was a life raft, the only thing keeping your head above the water. You two had been close before, as close as you were allowed to be given your circumstances— but this feeling of having a person was all new.
You watched Natasha and Yelena go back and forth over your breakfast cereal. It was something brightly colored and unnaturally sweet, Yelena had insisted that you’d love it.
“What do you think?” Yelena questioned, her accent thick as she looked over your with her wide green eyes.
Your face flushed at the sudden attention from the sisters. You had no idea what they were talking about, having completely tuned out the bickering. “About what?” You questioned with a full mouth, choosing to ignore the incredulous expression on Yelena’s face as a result.
“Oh, you must be joking! We’ve been talking about this for the past ten minutes. Who would win in a fight: Captain America or the Red Guardian?”
“You are joking.” You replied with a flat expression, noticing Natasha’s smirk out of the corner of your eye.
“No!” Yelena responded excitedly, grabbing your arm in a too tight grip. “Natasha says that she think Alexei would beat Captain America! She is insane.” She added, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
“She is messing with you.” You rolled your eyes.
Yelena paused before looking at her sister with betrayal painted on her face, as if she couldn’t believe it.
“It’s true,” Natasha admitted with a nonchalant shrug, “it’s a little funny, you have to admit.” She stood from her spot at the table, taking her own bowl into the kitchen of the small apartment you had set up shop in.
A small smile appeared on your own face before you could think to stop it.
“I have not seen you smile in weeks.” Yelena said softly, head low so she could meet your eyes. “I have missed it. You are so sad all of the time— I wish I could make it go away.” She reached across the table, taking your hand in her own. Your eyes flickered town to the green painted nails and rings that adorned her fingers as she intertwined them.
“Me too.” You whispered, your smile turning sad as your eyes filled with tears. “But you’re helping me more than I think you could ever know. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Your eyes shone with unshed tears as they met hers. Yelena brought your intertwined hands up to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your palm. “I will always be here for you. I promise.”
“I believe you.”
She removed her hand from your grip, thumb coming up to wipe away the tears you didn’t know had fallen. For the sake of your pride, you pretended not to notice Natasha lingering in the doorway.
Yelena’s hand rested gently on your cheek, her forehead coming to lean softly against your own. “We should get a dog.”
You let out a laugh that time, a genuine one— though it was small it made a smile bloom on Yelena’s face. Your nose bumped hers softly.
“Yes. Let’s get a dog.”
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Willow | Anthony Bridgerton
anthony bridgerton x reader
summary; based on willow by taylor swift
masterlist
You didn’t have any intentions of marrying, and you made sure that your parents knew it. It was your very first season— one that came later than most debutants as an attempt to appease you by your father. Much to your dismay, he made it clear that if he received an appropriate offer for your hand, he would take it.
You didn’t believe in falling in love, not really. People have some choice in who they love— marriages were arranged and couples fell into a routine. But they did not fall in love— no that was learned. Your parents learned to love each other, as did your older sister and her husband. And you supposed, when the time came, you would learn to love your husband as well.
Anthony Bridgerton took your world by storm. You didn’t know when, where, why, or how for that matter— but he ripped through you like a fierce wind, leaving debris and destruction in his wake. All at once your thoughts about learning to love were thrown at the window.
It was as though something supernatural had taken a hold of you, that was the only explanation you would accept. Because it made no sense, no sense that being around him sent your heartbeat to your toes. You still refused to make it easy, painting on an impassive face when you saw the man— though it never deterred his attention. He always greeted you with an insufferable smirk that was almost guaranteed to produce a rose color flush to your cheeks and neck. It was infuriating.
“You’re hiding.” Anthony directed towards you in a voice that only you could hear. He had slipped in beside you undetected, you for sure would’ve ran in the opposite direction had you seen him.
“This place is insufferable.” You responded, voice clipped and to the point. You were at yet another ball, watching couples twirls around the floor in a choreographed style that made your head hurt. It was all tight corsets and floral perfume sprayed a few times too many. You found yourself dodging suitors as if it were a sport and you were a professional. Clearly you had made a fumble.
“Do you even try to have fun?” The man questioned, though you knew it was a tease.
“You are one to talk, Lord Bridgerton. Very seldom do I see you do anything other than frown.”
“You look for me often, do you? I am flattered, truly. You have stunned me beyond words.” Anthony replied, his smirk turning into a wide grin.
You hated how it made your stomach turn, hated yourself for falling so weak at the sight of this man. His words had a way of cutting through you, like a knife. And god were you hungry for more.
“Clearly that is not the case, as you have yet to close your mouth.” To anyone else it would have seemed inappropriate, your parents would have had a heart attack if they heard you speak to the Viscount in such a manner. But Anthony just laughed, his head thrown back and a hand over his chest.
The swell of pride you felt at the glares from the other ladies in attendance made you angry. You hated that you felt this way, yet you couldn’t push it down. Your mother had laughed when you informed her of your qualms, settling for an infuriating knowing look rather than a response. What you needed was a trip to the doctor.
“Dance with me.” Anthony instructed, holding out a hand for you to take.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Your brows furrowed as you looked up at the man, eyes shifting from his hand to his own. “I have never once seen you dance at a function.” You pointed out.
“Yes, well I have never had someone that I wanted to dance with. But I wish to dance with you— and people are starting to stare. So unless you desire to cause a scene, I suggest you accept.” He was smug, and he was wrecking all of your plans.
He had somehow snuck his way past your defenses and onto your pillow. You dreamt of floating down the gardens, arm linked with his. And as you took Anthony’s hand, it felt like you were returning home.
You rushed out into the brisk night after your dance, leaving Anthony frozen and confused in his place. You couldn’t think— couldn’t breath as the feeling of his large hand against your waist lingered.
He snapped out of his daze quickly, following you into the dark of the night. “What on earth is the matter now?” He questioned with wide eyes, concern clear on his face.
“Do not look at me like that.” You instructed, though it was not at all intimidating. Your glare, however, was a bit more so.
“Was it that bad?” Anthony questioned with a grin, taking note of your flushed cheeks as he moved in closer.
“You love that I hate you.” You huffed, arms crossed over your chest as you met the eyes of the most infuriating man in existence. His gaze was soft as he brought his hand up to rest on your forearm. He wore a sweet smile that made your heart twist in your chest.
“I believe it would he far more accurate to say that you hate that you love me.” His voice was soft as he brought his head down to rest against your own. “I too love you, I’m afraid. Very troublesome it is.”
“That is impossibly rude.” You muttered, though jot pulling away. Anthony was warm and safe.
The man let out a puff of laughter, his nose bumping yours.
“Apologies, my love. I shall spend the rest of our lives making up for it.”
#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton one shot#bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton one shot
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Tidal Wave | Yelena Belova
MINOR BLACK WIDOW SPOILERS - also some of it is non canon but who cares
yelena belova x reader
summary; you and yelena worked together in the red room— she adjusts to your free life much easier than you do
masterlist
You hadn’t known that you craved freedom until you felt it for the first time.
First came puff of red smoke, then the heat— like you had jumped straight into flames. You and Yelena both looked up at each other, brows furrowed in confusion. What were you doing?
What had you done?
Yelena looked down at the woman who clutched the vial that had freed your mind, pushing her hair away from her forehead. You could see a few tears slip from her eyes before she ran a hand down her face.
Next came the slice of a blade, hot down the side of your thigh as the blonde cut out your tracker. You felt so dizzy the pain barely registered. Five minutes ago you were killing this woman with no problem, and now all you could think about was the red on your ledger.
Yelena tugged you up by the crook of your elbow, grabbing the small black case from the woman and then taking off in the opposite direction— tugging you firmly behind her.
You had just killed that woman.
Next came a series of increasingly confusing events, including teaming up with a fugitive Avenger— who was also apparently your closest confidant’s sister?
You went from being controlled to taking down the Red Room in a span of time so fast, you swore you had whiplash. Yelena had adjusted so well it made you feel a little ashamed— she was quick to buy her own clothes and start a new life, you couldn’t even decide what to eat on your own.
You felt like a lost puppy, following her around with sad eyes pointed to the ground. Your hands still felt slick from the blood they had spilled, everything catching up to you all at once— hitting like a tidal wave.
You couldn’t sleep more than a couple hours at a time, the vivid memories of the lives you had taken haunted you. Part of you welcomed them, ashamed that you hadn’t been strong enough to fight off the control. The more rational part reminded you that it was science, there was no beating it. But you had never been very rational. The weight of the life you lived thrummed steadily against your brow bone, refusing to let you forget.
Yelena truly was a beacon for you. She was a life raft, the only thing keeping your head above the water. You two had been close before, as close as you were allowed to be given your circumstances— but this feeling of having a person was all new.
You watched Natasha and Yelena go back and forth over your breakfast cereal. It was something brightly colored and unnaturally sweet, Yelena had insisted that you’d love it.
“What do you think?” Yelena questioned, her accent thick as she looked over your with her wide green eyes.
Your face flushed at the sudden attention from the sisters. You had no idea what they were talking about, having completely tuned out the bickering. “About what?” You questioned with a full mouth, choosing to ignore the incredulous expression on Yelena’s face as a result.
“Oh, you must be joking! We’ve been talking about this for the past ten minutes. Who would win in a fight: Captain America or the Red Guardian?”
“You are joking.” You replied with a flat expression, noticing Natasha’s smirk out of the corner of your eye.
“No!” Yelena responded excitedly, grabbing your arm in a too tight grip. “Natasha says that she think Alexei would beat Captain America! She is insane.” She added, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
“She is messing with you.” You rolled your eyes.
Yelena paused before looking at her sister with betrayal painted on her face, as if she couldn’t believe it.
“It’s true,” Natasha admitted with a nonchalant shrug, “it’s a little funny, you have to admit.” She stood from her spot at the table, taking her own bowl into the kitchen of the small apartment you had set up shop in.
A small smile appeared on your own face before you could think to stop it.
“I have not seen you smile in weeks.” Yelena said softly, head low so she could meet your eyes. “I have missed it. You are so sad all of the time— I wish I could make it go away.” She reached across the table, taking your hand in her own. Your eyes flickered town to the green painted nails and rings that adorned her fingers as she intertwined them.
“Me too.” You whispered, your smile turning sad as your eyes filled with tears. “But you’re helping me more than I think you could ever know. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Your eyes shone with unshed tears as they met hers. Yelena brought your intertwined hands up to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your palm. “I will always be here for you. I promise.”
“I believe you.”
She removed her hand from your grip, thumb coming up to wipe away the tears you didn’t know had fallen. For the sake of your pride, you pretended not to notice Natasha lingering in the doorway.
Yelena’s hand rested gently on your cheek, her forehead coming to lean softly against your own. “We should get a dog.”
You let out a laugh that time, a genuine one— though it was small it made a smile bloom on Yelena’s face. Your nose bumped hers softly.
“Yes. Let’s get a dog.”
#yelena belova imagine#marvel imagine#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova#yelena belova one shot#marvel one shot
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That’s Not a Picnic Blanket | Yelena Belova
no black widow spoilers, entirely non-canon, just don’t think too hard about it ;)
summary; yelena is impossible to say no to
masterlist
You always struggled with fitting in— with finding your place. You were always an outlier, even as an Avenger. You loved your team, truly you did— but you didn’t have some grand cause or feel the need to make amends for your past.
You liked the security of it, the having a place and a job and knowing that you were needed. You had a… unique set of skills from a jaded past, a longer story than it was worth telling.
You sought out comfort and a place to call home, and maybe a cool car— nothing more. And nobody understood that.
Nobody until Yelena Belova. Yelena was Natasha’s sister, and Natasha was the closest thing you had to a friend. Yelena was funny and wild and craved freedom above all else, something you could relate to. She didn’t expect you to sacrifice your life for hers, she didn’t expect anything from you really.
It was refreshing in a way that you weren’t used to. Everybody wanted something, but all she wanted was company. And when the company is as pretty as she is, well you’d be a fool to turn down such an offer.
You never really expected anything to come from your sort of friendship, just someone to talk to. You had similar tastes, and wanted similar things. She was the perfect mix of light and dark, a weird mesh of cynicism and wonder that you hadn’t known was possible until you met her.
“Good morning.” Yelena greeted in her thick Russian accent, looking up from her bowl of fruit loops with a smile. Her mouth was full, cheeks ballooned in a way so cute it was criminal.
You, Yelena, and Natasha had found yourselves sharing an apartment in a weird turn of event. You felt more comfortable in the tight space that in the Avenger compound. There was less pressure to pretend to he something that you just weren’t. Less pressure to be a hero.
“Morning.” You nodded with a small smile of your own, grabbing an apple from Natasha’s prized fruit bowl. She had insisted on the importance of substance— like your chemically altered bodies needed it.
“Today we are going to the park. I want to have a picnic.” Yelena instructed after washing down her cereal with an unnaturally red colored drink. That couldn’t have been healthy.
“Excuse me?” You questioned with a raised brow. “Who is we?”
“We is you and me.” She nodded, there was no question to her tone. It wasn’t really a demand either, just a statement. But she didn’t leave any room for argument. “I watched a movie last night with some woman and a man, I do not remember the name. But they went on a picnic and it looked very nice, so we go.”
“Do I get any say in how my day is spent?”
Yelena looked up at you with wide eyes, in an expression that could only be described as extreme offense. She was very dramatic, you had learned quickly. “Do you not want to go on a picnic with me?”
She stood up from her seat, moving to stand toe to toe with you on the other side of the kitchen island. She crossed her arms over her chest, willing you to argue.
“You can pick what we do after.” She added when you didn’t respond, nodding her head and moving to pass you. “Be ready in an hour.” Her accent made it impossible not to follow her instructions exactly.
About an hour and a half and one motorcycle ride later, and you were sat on-top of what was definitely not a picnic blanket, under a large willow tree in a park you had never been to.
“This is nice, no?” Yelena questioned, turning her head so she could meet your gaze. You were both laid back against the blanket that you were almost certain she stole off of Natasha’s bed.
It was nice, not that you had ever thought it wouldn’t be. It was seldom not nice when you were with her.
“Very nice.” You agreed, looking at her with a hand held above your eyes so you could see her through the bright sunlight.
She rolled over on her stomach, moving closer so that your arm was touching hers, which was clad in a blue denim jacket.
“Do you know what would make it even better?” Yelena questioned, lowering her voice— it thickened her accent which made your stomach do a weird leap that you couldn’t explain.
“Enlighten me.”
“I would like to kiss you right now.” She replied in a weirdly deadpanned voice, her face blocking the sun as she leaned over you. Her face was impassive, which you had also gotten used to.
Your brows raised, that feeling in your stomach returning. She was very pretty, and looking into her green eyes you knew there was no denying her wishes. Not that you’d want to.
“So this I get a say in?” You questioned with a smirk, eyes meeting hers.
Yelena rolled her eyes, “Yes obviously. I am not a creep.”
You didn’t respond, only leaning up to close the short distance between you, gently pressing your lips to hers.
You pulled away after a few seconds, eyes still closed as you laid back against the soft blanket.
“I plan on doing more of that later.”
“You know this is definitely not a picnic blanket, right?”
#yelena belova one shot#yelena belova imagine#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova#black widow one shot#black widow imagine#marvel imagine#marvel one shot
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