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feyreswaterybowels · 15 days

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⟡ Princess of Dreams ⟡

# 2 Lucien x Rhys!Sister

⟡ Part 1 ⟡ Part 2 ⟡ Part 3 ⟡

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Following the events of the Solstice ceremony.

Warnings/Tags: smut. implied past sexual assault. fluffy romance. feyre and Rhys’ sister being besties and wanting to destroy tamlin. possible grammatical errors.

Authors Note: All likes comments and reblogs are appreciated, welcome and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for part 3! Bold italics are mental communication, regular italics are inner thoughts. (Mood Board)

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It’s hours later when the intensely bright sun had finally sunk back below the western horizon, giving me back my beautiful night sky.

There had been more countless hours of…well of not much really but it was still exhausting to be standing around all day surrounded by thousands of flowers and brightly colored streamers, watching Feyre and Tamlin greet and speak to everyone while Ianthe followed around trying to explain what happened.

The cauldron had blessed her chosen friend, she told anyone who would listen—how the sun had altered its very path to show how glad it was for her return. I would silently mock her every time she repeated those words.

There hadn’t been many interested in her tale, and the ones that were showed mild interest at best.

Feyre had stuck close to us for a majority of the time. I didn’t mind. I felt extremely protective over her. Not only as my High Lady but as my friend. I may not have access to my physical powers but I could still enter a mind in half a second and destroy someone if they dared harm her.

I’d enjoyed watching this new Feyre. How confident and sure she’d become. When the adoring fae wished to touch her hand, weep a bit over her, thank her for all she’d done she would have cringed away before. Now she openly accepted their thanks and gratitude. Thanking them and smiling as any High Lord would. Mostly genuine. Though for some, like courtiers and sentries, she put on a better show.

After six hours many retreat to freshen up.

“Tell my brother I love him.” I tell Feyre when she hugs me as she leaves. She promises to tell him for me.

Lucien and I stay, watching as lunch is cleared away and the band sets up. I would give anything to be spending this day with my family, but I was always grateful to have my mate at my side.

So when the band finally started playing and the fae around us took to the dance floor I dragged Lucien up. He hadn’t put up much of a fight—we loved dancing.

And dance we did for hours. I had even stolen Feyre away from Tamlin a few times much to his annoyance and my satisfaction.

We laughed together, spinning around the dance floor. It reminded me of myself and Mor—how we would get drunk on wine at Rita’s and dance the night away. I couldn’t wait to have nights like that with Feyre, too.

I spun her back into Tamlins arms as Lucien stole me away this time, practically begging me to come with him to eat and I realized why when I noticed Ianthe prowling around the tables.

Even she couldn’t put a damper on my mood right now. We fixed our plates and seated ourselves. More wine in our glasses as we sat tucked off away from the largest parts of the crowd—talking in hushed voices and feeding one another as if we hadn’t been mated for nearly two decades now.

Eventually I had shifted from my seat to stand behind Lucien, playing with his hair while we watched those on the dance floor become increasingly more drunk. I started braiding his hair, a taunt braid along either side of his head, curling behind his pointed ears.

“Your hair is getting so long,” I tell him, those auburn locks well past his shoulders now.

“I know,” He says, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been thinking of cutting it—”

I gasp, drawing his attention up to me. “You better not!”

The laugh that leaves his mouth goes straight to my core. He reaches up and pulls me to bend over him so he can kiss me.

“Is that an order, Princess?” He asks against my lips and I grin.

“More like I’ll kick your ass if you do it,” I tease, kissing him again.

As I’m pulling away to go back to braiding his hair I feel eyes on us. Violet meeting teal and I bare my teeth in a wicked smile. I slide my fingers through his hair, gently pulling to tilt his head back, keeping eye contact with her as I lean down to kiss him again… stroking my tongue over his. He gasps in my mouth, reaching up to caress my head with a strong hand.

Anger lights in those eyes across the way and I grin as Lucien’s lips move to my throat, my free hand sliding around and down his chest—slipping under his shirt to feel heated skin.

I moan as he sucks on my skin, digging my nails into his chest and tightening my hand in his hair.

“Fuck,” Lucien growls, standing quickly from the chair, towering over me. “Come here.”

Then I’m being dragged away. I look over my shoulder smirking at Ianthe who is red in the face looking like she’s about to have a tantrum. She takes a step forward as if about to follow Lucien and I only to be stopped by Feyre, though I couldn’t hear what was being said before we disappeared into the thick woods.

“You’re nothing but trouble,” Lucien taunts, pushing me against a tree and attacking my mouth.

“You love it,” I gasp against his lips, reaching between us to work his pants open, ignoring the way the tree bark digs into my wings.

“Turn around,” he orders, but before I can move he’s got me spun around and pressed against the tree. “Hands.” Is his next order.

I present my wrists to him behind my back and his large hand wraps around them, pinning them to my lower back.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here, Princess,” Lucien says, the sound of his buckle coming undone making me shiver. “I want you to be loud enough that she hears you.”

I moan at that. Knowing exactly who he’s talking about without saying her name. Though it’s unlikely she’ll actually hear me from this distance over the music but the thought that she might? And probably had many times is something I love. She wants him so bad—not that I blame her. But to remind her he was mine over and over, that she would never get to have him made me feral.

I’m pulled from those thoughts when the skirt of my dress is being lifted, that hand of fire trailing between my thighs, rubbing at my wetness before ripping the stocking and panties I wore beneath.

“Tell me, sweet girl, are you turned on because of me? Or because you know she knows exactly what we’re doing out here?” Lucien asks, fingers sliding through my wetness, rubbing in that perfect spot until I was weak in the knees. Only held up by his weight pushing me against the tree.

“I asked a question,” He grunts, pulling that heat away from my center.

“Both,” I gasp out in a moan, needing his hand back. “Fuck, both.”

“That’s a good girl,” He praises, hand sliding back between my thighs, rubbing at me, two fingers sliding inside.

“Oh, fuck, Lu,” I moaned. His fingers weren’t as thick or long as his cock but they felt so good filling me up, curling perfectly to find that spot that had me seeing stars.

“I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” He leaned over me to breathe in my ear, careful of my wings, fingers pumping faster, “then on my cock. Then I’m gonna take you back to that party filled up. We’re going to tell everyone goodbye then I’m gonna take you home, tie you to the bed and have my godsdamn way with you.”

“Yes, please!” I cry out, clenching around his fingers, cumming entirely too easy just from the way he rubs that spot inside of me, just from the way his voice rasped against my ear.

His fingers slide from me but before I can protest I feel him press against me, pushing in, in, in until he’s fully sheathed inside of me. He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, the back of my shoulders between my wings. I wished he had ripped the damn dress from my body so I could feel his lips against my skin.

“That could be arranged,” He purrs, reaching around to grasp my breast, not realizing I had sent that through the bond.

“Lu, please,” I begged, pushing back against him. He hisses in pleasure, nipping at my neck before straightening his spine, still holding my wrist as he pulls his hips back, thrusting all the way back in. “Yesss.”

Then he fucks me. Hard and rough.

Bent over against a tree in the middle of the forest. I let every sound imaginable fall from my lips exactly the way he ordered me to. Between the events of the day, the flirting, the unwanted looks from another and the wine I was falling over the edge easily for the second time.

He slows his thrusts, giving me only a moment to catch my breath before he’s pulling out and spinning me back around. My knees buckle and I fall to the ground directly in front of him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so fucked out she can’t even stand,” Lucien coos, grasping my chin gently to tilt my head up, sliding his thumb into my mouth. I suck on the digit, batting my eyelashes at him, watching that fire burn in his eyes.

He reaches down, grabbing me around the waist and hauls me up, lifting me easily into his arms, my dress bunching between us. My arms and legs wrap around him and I kiss him. I can’t help it.

It only takes some slight maneuvering before he’s back inside of me, my calves over his forearms as he’s thrust into me. It was always such a turn on the way he could hold me like this, so easily, as he took me.

The bond suddenly lights up with warmth and my mind goes blank as I come again.

“Fill me up. Please, cum in me, I want it.”

I can feel how close he is without him saying anything. The sounds he’s making, the feelings through the bond. I know exactly when he’s about to cum and I moan as he fills me up

“So good, that was so good, Luc.”

He moans, eyes meeting mine and I smile at him. Pushing a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead.

He takes a few gasping breaths, holding me in his arms still, basking in the high of his orgasm. I wrap my wings around us as we stand there, providing us with some form of privacy should anyone stumble upon us.

“We should get back,” I tell him, kissing the tip of his pointed ear. Wanting nothing more than to just skip out on the goodbyes and just go back to the house.

“Just another minute,” he said breathy, one of his hands reaching to grasp my ass cheek. “Just wanna be inside of you.”

“Mm. We could just go say our goodbyes like this,” I offer, playing with the braid I put in his hair earlier. “Unfortunately that means quite a few males would see me with your cock—”

Lucien growls at that and I giggle when his eyes meet mine. “I would kill someone.”

I hum in response, kissing him.

“The thought of you killing someone simply for seeing my body shouldn’t be so sexy.”

His hearty laugh vibrates through my body—my favorite sound.

“Come on, Princess. Let’s get this over with so I can get you in my bed,” He says, slipping from my body and setting me getting on my feet, making sure I was steady before tucking himself away.

We take a few moments to collect ourselves, kissing softly between straightening the other clothes and fixing disheveled hair. Of course no one was stupid. They would scent the smell of sex on us but that didn’t mean we had to make it any more obvious.

By the time we got back the sun had been long gone from the sky, dozens of blazing fires lit the area now. I didn’t spot Ianthe anywhere but Feyre finds us within moments of us taking up a spot by the fire.

We had meant to say our goodbyes but Feyre offered me a glass of wine. Which led to another. And another. We danced with one another around the fire—Lucien taking turns spinning us around. I had no idea where Tamlin was and I honestly didn’t care.

It was when Feyre asked Lucien and I to escort her back to the manor. Being ever the gentleman he agreed. I was much more drunk than Feyre but Lucien offered an elbow to each of us, letting us hang on him as he led us back to the house.

We left Feyre at her bedroom, I giggled out a goodnight, grabbing her face and kissing her cheek. As we were turning away I tripped over my foot and giggled again.

“Luc, I’m drunk,” I said, as he grabbed my arm, wrapping it around his neck.

“Yeah, Princess, I know,” Lucien chuckled, leading me to our bedroom.

I felt so light and blissful, letting him undress me and clean me up. He pulled the pins from my hair and cleaned the makeup from my face sliding a nightgown onto my naked body.

He laid me back, pulling his comforter over my body, tucking me in tightly. “Get some sleep, sweet girl,” He smiles down at me, kissing my forehead.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

I woke up hours later to Lucien tossing and turning. Ever since the Mountain his sleep was more restless than not, dragging up traumas old and new.

My head pounded from all the wine I’d drunk but I watched his face, still peaceful despite the unease of his sleep. It was when a horrified grimace crossed his face that I took over. When I felt the bond run ice cold with fear, when I got a glimpse of that nightmare—one he’s had before, where it starts with Jesminda’s torture and right as she’s about to be executed she changes into me as Beron and Lucien’s brother’s force him to watch me be murdered.

I slip into his mind, caressing it gently, ending the dream easily before it gets to that horrid part. I crawl next to him, laying his head in my lap and carding my fingers through his hair, braiding and unbraiding pieces, scratching at his scalp gently.

Instead I show him Velaris, the life I want us to have there together, the life we always talked about.

Living in our home right on the river. Late night stroll under an endless diamond sky. A long and happy life with beautiful red headed, winged babies. All the adventures we could go on together when no longer stuck in the boundaries of the Spring Court. Having the bond declared in a ceremony, a proper wedding, going swimming in the Sidra, taking him to see Ramiel—there was so much I wanted to do with him.

We’ve had a good life together here in Spring. He had done everything to make it better for me once he realized who I was, that I was stuck here. Picnic dates by the pond, visits to farmers markets, naps under beautiful trees, drinking wine, horseback rides, festivals and gardening.

But we could have a better life. An amazing one instead of a good one and I wanted to spend it with him.

He shifts, arms wrapping around my legs, nuzzling against my thigh, pressing his lips to my tanned skin but he doesn’t wake. I lull him into a deeper sleep, thumbing away the crease between his eyebrows.

My head whips up at a sound across the hall, Feyres room. I listen carefully, hear her door open. Then there’s a gentle knock on our door. She must have had a nightmare too…maybe I should start checking in on her at night.

I gently untangle myself from Lucien’s embrace, pulling the bed sheet over his body before sliding from the bed. There’s a second knock just before I reach the door. I scanned her head to toe quick—sweaty and disheveled but not physically harmed.

“I heard you, are you okay?” I asked, stepping to the side to let her into the room, scanning the hall for any sign of trouble. There seemed to be nothing.

The room was lit mainly by the moon light and I watched her look around the room. The night gown she wore was above mid thigh but she turned around to look at me before I could question her motive.

“I had a dream about it,” she rasped thickly, “Under the Mountain. I couldn’t remember where I was.”

I nod my head in understanding. Lucien had similar dreams. I wanted to kill Amarantha all over again for what she had done. To Feyre. To Lucien. To my brother. To thousands and thousands of fae.

“What did you dream of tonight?” I asked, stepping closer to her.

“She had me spiked to the wall like Clare Beddor. And the Attor was—” She shuddered, running her hands over her face.

I walked closer to her, a frown on my face, wanting to provide her with some kind of comfort. There’s something in the house, a vibration, I feel it but before I can question it she’s thrown her arms around me. I don’t object as she buries her face against my neck, warm tears falling on my bare skin. I let out a small sigh, sliding an arm around her waist, the other caressing her head, stroking over her dark golden hair.

“I’m sorry, Feyre,” I breathed, kissing the crown of her head. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Her cries and tears eventually subside but I continued to hold her. Allowing her to take the comfort she needed from me. I pulled back slightly, caressed her face gently, wiping away the remaining tears. I looked at her, I knew she could see the concern in my eyes, but there was something else in hers, something not completely of the fear and sadness she was presenting.

“Why are you—”

“What’s going on?” Tamlin’s deep voice rumbles through the room. I turned my head slightly to look at him, he stood there face a mask of cold calm, the beginnings of claws glinting at his knuckles—looking as if he’d caught us in the middle of something naughty.

“I had a nightmare,” she explained, pulling, straightening her nightgown. I fought the urge to smile. “I-I didn’t want to wake the house.”

Tamlin knew I didn’t sleep in here most nights. Lucien either slept in my room or we slept separately, so in his eyes Feyre had to have been seeking out the comfort of Lucien after her nightmare.

He just stood there staring at us. Eyes glancing at Lucien before looking at me with narrowed eyes, a glare that I returned. His mouth tightened into a thin line and I nearly snarled at him—those claws still half drawn.

“I had a nightmare,” Feyre repeated sharply, walking forward to grip Tamlin’s arm, turning him but he looked back at me. I crossed my arms over my chest and smirked at him as she led him from the room closing the door.

“You little shit, your lucky Lucien wasn’t awake, Tamlin would’ve killed him,” I told her crawling back in bed with my mate.

“I wouldn’t let that happen. I needed to plant some kind of doubt in his mind. You seemed to do the trick though,” Feyre’s answer came five minutes later, laughter in her voice.

“You should have told me I would have kissed you right in front of him,” I teased back, sliding under the sheet, cuddling up to that warm body.

“Next time,” Is her response, a mental image of her winking and blowing me a kiss followed.

I laughed out loud.

“What’s going on?” Lucien asks, a slight frown on his face at being woken suddenly.

I grinned, kissing his chest.

“Nothing, my love. Go back to sleep,” I whispered, easily slipping into his mind to lull him back to sleep.

I grinned to myself.

“Burn it down, Feyre” I told her. “Burn it all down.”

Fuck Tamlin. And fuck the Spring Court.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

tag list: @sleepylunarwolf @stained-glass-eyes0708 @saltedcoffeescotch @cherry-cin @xmalfoyweasleyx @jesskidding3 @minaethrym @scorpioriesling @inloveallthetime @paleidiot

#the way I’m obsessing over my own story #I’m already considering a prequel of sorts from the beginning of the first book #BUT #Feyre and Rhys’ sister is one of my fav relationships so far #they’re just so fun #yes I have that Lucien scene to Rhys’ sister #tamlins jealous self would definitely think they were about to get down and dirty together in their tiny night gowns #lucien vanserra #lucien vanssera x reader #lucien fanfic #pro lucien vanserra #Princess of dreams

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mvrtaiswriting · 11 months

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Reiner Braun - Wonderland (part 2)

Hullo! Part 2 of Wonderland is finally here! I know I previously said it would only have two parts, but it is highly likely I'll need at least one more part before calling it quits! hope you enjoy this <;3 (part 1 here) (part 3 here)

Follows AOT timeline, so please be mindful of any spoilers ahead. Specifically, this first part contains spoilers from season 4 (ish). The segments and different timezones of the story are divided by quotes from different Taylor Swift songs, which were vital for the formation of this idea. More specifically, the song that served as the backbone for this part of the story was Wildest dreams, from the 1989 album (I wish there was a Taylor's version for it, but we'll have to wait I guess.) This part also used Illicit affairs, from the Folklore album and Getaway Car, from the reputation album.

gn! reader.

usual AOT violence.

1.3 K words.

-> tag list for my dear readers who were waiting for an update! lmk if you want to be added <3 @maliakealoha, @turituri09.

I thought "Heaven can't help me now".

A familiar scent tingled your senses, you could recognise the smell of his cologne even in such a busy street, with Sasha shoving ice cream up to your face and local food sellers frying their specialties in the main road. You took a quick glare over the crowd, scanning the millions of faces just to see him standing against one of the shop's wall - his eyes locked on your figure since God knows how long, merely hiding away from the rest of the Survey Corps. It was a miracle Levi didn't notice him staring - things could have escalated quickly otherwise.

You took Hange and the rest of your team to explore the city, explaining everything about their cultural and technological development.

"You've picked up the accent."

Jean scoffed, now bored of listening to everything you had to say. In the past 9 months, you had a full immersion experience of Liberio - you even managed to obtain a driving license. Hange had told you to maintain a discrete profile whilst trying to acquire as many skills as possible, and you did. Onyankopon as your main teacher, you had managed to completely blend in with the citizens of a nation that tried to exterminate your own population, destroying the city you grew up in and killing the people you loved. A nation that birthed Reiner, the love of your life, your nemesis - everything and nothing at the same time, the person that gave you everything and scarred you the most.

When the meeting was over, you greeted everyone and decided to part ways with them.

"They'll get suspicious if I won't be back.. Have fun for me too!"

You said, leaving the building before anyone could stop you or convince you otherwise.

Make sure nobody sees you leave. Hood over your head, keep your eyes down.

Finally entering what had now become your home, you took off the hooded cloak and hang it by the door. Hold habits die hard after all - and despite your cloak didn't have the wings of freedom on its back, it still reminded you of home, of Paradis, of your mission.

"Did they like it?"

Reiner said, greeting you at the door with a warm cup of coffee and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. You only nodded in response, smiling weakly and accepting the cup of coffee. Making your way to the sofa, you let yourself fall on the soft fabric and kept silent. Replaying the day you just spent with your fellow comrades, you wondered whether it was fair for you to hate Reiner so much. Now that you're sitting in his apartment, drinking his coffee, living in his town. It's easy to wonder what life would be like if it wasn't for all these little games, the wars, the hate. You never questioned your loyalty towards Paradis, but sometimes you wished Reiner questioned his. After all, he was serving a country that hated him down to every stupid cell of his body.

His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.

Tangled up in bed, you're full of him. Reiner's finger tips slowly drawing imaginary patterns on your soft skin whilst he tries to catch his breath. Making love with him was always exhausting, full of passion, and hate, and love, and remorse. It was an explosion of feelings, something that felt so right but so wrong. Loving him was incredibly easy - his features had grown with him, so much sometimes you could almost forget what he did. You could only see the beautiful man he had become, the thoughtful, loving man who only wanted to redeem himself. Who fell on his knees the first time he saw you again and begged for your forgiveness, because his feelings were always real. Because he had loved you since the first day of training as cadets and continued to do so even after so, so many years. Because he hated himself for what he did, wishing he stayed - wishing he would have known better.

It was always easy for Reiner to hit your soft spot, he was your only weakness. Your only motivation. If only your friends knew about this.. no one would approve this. But now your hair smell like his cologne and his lips taste like you, creating a bubble that you hoped would never pop.

"Say you'll remember me."

You whispered, passing your fingers through his blonde hair. Reiner raises an eyebrow in response, melting into your touch.

"Once this will be over."

You whisper again, biting your lips to try and stop the tears from flooding your eyes. His rough hand caresses your cheek and you melt onto his touch, your face slowly adhering to his palm. The sorrow your hearts feel is the same, after all, he only has a few years left.

"I will. Rosy cheeks and all."

Reiner answered, pulling you closer to him and hugging you tightly to his chest. You smiled, grabbing his face between your hands, taking your time to admire the handsome man you lover was. The way time and pain have marked his face, tracing little wrinkles around his forehead and eyes. His strong arms were now holding you and keeping you safe, and that's how you wanted to remember your lover. Handsome, in love, and yours.

It's no surprise I turned you in, 'cause us traitors never win.

When you snuggled out of bed that morning, Reiner was still in deep sleep. Gentle snores filled the room and allowed you to dress up silently, packing the few thing you had left in his room. You took a second to observe him, as if you could photograph this moment with your pupils. The white sheets were messily covered his toned body, the bed still messy from the night before. You stared at him for a little longer, whispering a little "I love you" to him before leaving that apartment forever. Closing the door behind your back, you put the hood of your cloak on to cover your face - and wondered if he felt the same way 5 years ago, when he ran and never came back. If he felt the same ache in his heart, if he felt this much love for you - if he felt as a traitor.

It was too late to think look back now, as you put your new ODM gear on. Levi had been rehearsing the plan all day, everything was ready: Eren would signal the start of the counterattack.

Standing on the roof of a building, you observed the plan unravel swiftly, everything going according to plan.

"Everything okay?"

Jean carefully asked, noticing how you zoned out when Reiner crossed the stage. You shook your head weakly in response as you hoped with every fibre of your being he would not be Eren's aim. If Tybur was the main target of this campaign, why was Reiner even remotely involved?

Before you could even think twice about it, you were flying around buildings, fighting civilians and avoiding any stone Eren's titan would throw. You fought, you killed. The blood of civilian's that greeted you every morning and sold you the coffee you loved so much was now on your hands, and it was hard to ignore. It was hard to think that a more diplomatic approach wouldn't have solved things. Rushing to the airship to retire and follow the orders received from your superiors, you looked at Liberio for one last time. Scanning through the building, the smoke, the shots, you finally managed to catch a glimpse of the Armoured Titan. A bittersweet smile formed on your lips as you followed the titan's movements from above - it looked as beautiful as its owner, as crazy as this might have sounded. A chuckle escaped your lips as a tear streamed down your cheek, burning your skin as if your eyes were leaking acid.

I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed.

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suvashis · 10 months

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Capture Attention & Engage with Creative Social Media Content

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In today’s world soaked with social media, the competition for customer attention is fierce. Creating content that engages the user and stands out among the crowd of other companies can be a challenge. However, there are a few strategies you can employ to maximize engagement and ensure your message reaches as many potential customers as possible. - Capture Attention With Catchy Visuals: Utilizing attractive visuals such as videos, infographics, and GIFs can help your content stand out across different social media platforms and draw users in. - Be Active And Show A Human Side To Your Company: Posting content regularly and responding to comments and feedback with a personalized touch can help your company seem more human and approachable, creating stronger relationships with your customers. - Incorporate Fun Elements: Creating content with a unique sense of humor or other interesting elements can boost customer engagement, as it’s more likely to be shared, liked, or commented on. Utilizing imaginative content geared specifically towards your target audience can help you stand out. Maximizing engagement on your social media platforms won’t only help increase the reach of your content, but also help convert potential customers and build brand awareness.

4. Unleashing the Power of Creative Content on Social Media

When it comes to content on social media, creativity is key. For success in social media branding, you need to have an exciting and unique set of posts that stand out from the crowd. Here are some tried-and-tested tactics for unleashing the power of creative content on your social media channels: - Incentive-based content: Providing followers incentives to like, comment or share your post will engage your audience and encourage them to spread your content. - Humorous content: Keeping things light and funny is a great way to capture the attention of your followers and build a post into an engaging conversation. - Narratives: Try to tell stories in your post, memes and videos, weaving an imagined world that your followers will enjoy getting lost in! - Infographics: Turn your facts and figures into visuals that can be effortlessly absorbed by your followers. Not all insight needs to be serious - make it fun! Content is key to sustaining a successful social media presence and when you're armed with these tips, you can feel confident in the creative content you post. Beat the competition and reach out to more followers than ever before with your creative content! With the right content and creative approach, you can captivate and engage your target audiences. Social media can be a powerful tool for any business or organization that is used to accurately reach the right people. Putting your creative touch on posts gives your audience something to remember and helps them connect with your brand. So, get creative and craft amazing social media content today! Read the full article

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sunidhichauhan52 · 1 year

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Using Social Media To Help In Search Engine Optimization (SEO)

Social media can help in enhancing the search engine optimization or SEO effectiveness of your website and improve your Google search ranking. Too many marketers continue to separate social media marketing from search engine optimization as separate activities. Social media marketing can and has to be an effective SEO ally. But raising your SEO ranks doesn't occur by chance, and the right methods and smart content marketing are needed.

Read on to learn why you need to hire the same agency to perform both your search engine optimization and social media marketing strategies.

What Effect Does Social Media Have On Search Engine Optimization (SEO)?

Although social media does not directly affect your website’s SEO rankings, the links you publish on social media sites help your company get more exposure. Social media exposure can help your search engine optimization strategy in six different ways:

• Broad content dissemination

• Extended shelf life for your postings

• Boost organic traffic and internet presence

• Improve the brand's reputation.

• Improve brand recognition

• Improves regional search engine optimization (SEO)

As such, the number of social media shares you get is irrelevant to SEO results. Nevertheless, more social media shares of your content provide social signals that indicate that your postings are valuable to your target audience. What are some methods to link SEO and social media marketing strategy?

1. Develop Link Possibilities

The top opportunity on our list is also the most difficult to seize. Since this approach is passive, the actual challenge resides with the user rather than the actual implementation. It all depends on someone else acting without your direct encouragement. Simply put, you depend on social media to spread the word about your content and let people know it is available. For this to happen, you need to make your content rank well and appear on searches through search engine optimization. So, create content that is engaging and interesting enough to get shared on social media.

2. Improve Your Social Media Profile

One of the first things a potential customer or consumer will notice is your company's appealing social media presence, so invest the time to make sure it appropriately portrays your business.

Give as many details as you can to make your company's performance clear to the public.

Use search terms and phrases that are relevant to your brand. Have backlinks pointing to your website's content to increase traffic. To draw a crowd, develop a successful social media marketing strategy.

3. Improve social media image quality for SEO

A captivating social media image extends beyond being large, having a good resolution, and engaging. Even while these elements are crucial, you also need to take into account how you set up and insert images, particularly when optimizing for SEO.

These elements are essential for the optimization of your content by the algorithm. Search engine optimization specialists recommend the following tips while taking photos for social media platforms:

· Image File Names: Make use of important keywords in your image titles to attract viewers.

· Alt Tags: Alt tags are HTML codes added to photographs to assist algorithms in comprehending a concept.

· Unique Pictures: Even though using stock photos is convenient, many companies already do. Consequently, they don't make your brand stand out. Use distinctive pictures to prevent this.

4. Utilize social listening.

Use social listening to monitor what is happening with your competition and others.

There are several excellent free tools available that you can utilize to implement this effective search engine optimization strategy. These will let you monitor discussions so that you can hear what your audience has to say about you and your competitors.

Keeping a constant eye on your platforms is a smart idea for managing online reviews, and general customer service as more and more people use social media to ask inquiries, read reviews, and complain.

5. Establish Authority

One of the greatest benefits of content marketing and social media advertising is that if you continually post high-quality material, you eventually get to be known as an authority in your niche.

People will believe the facts you talk about, and as a result, they will begin to believe in your entire brand. Utilize social media as a platform to spread your authoritative information across new channels, increase brand recognition, and increase discoverability.

People are not limited to just one digital sphere. Every day, they use a wide range of resources, which is why omnichannel marketing is such a powerful tool for connecting with customers wherever they are.

#search engine optimization seo #search engine optimization #social media advertising #social media marketing strategy

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magpie-to-the-morning · 2 years

Text

Insatiable - Part One

Moodboard by @acrossthesestars

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Frankie Morales x OFC

Word count: >1k

Tags: Wolf shifter AU, Supernatural AU, Slow burn, Mating bond, Canon typical sex and violence, Attempted kidnapping, Blood, Injury

Summary: You’ve travelled the world looking for home, but what if it finds you?

Author’s Note: I’m going to start off releasing this in shorter, relaxed fit installments. This odd and self-indulgent story wouldn’t exist without my “pack” of fiercely loving friends, @keeper0fthestars , @acrossthesestars , and @the-chocolate-bunny . Love you guys.

There’s something magical about Cartago at dusk- the way the setting sun sets the clouds on fire, setting off the jumbled mix of architecture, the bustling crowds, the tempting aroma of street food, and the occasional flashing dart of a hummingbird. Even in the busy market district, the little birds find something to feed on, their shimmering, jewel toned feathers adding to the riotous colors all around you. You’re watching them, charmed away from your self-set task of sampling from as many food trucks as possible (the work of a travel blogger is never done), when something at the edge of your vision tugs at you.

Across the street, a young girl, silent and wide-eyed, is pulling away from the man with a firm grasp on her wrist. It’s her silence that bothers you. This is no temper tantrum, no tired child resisting going home at the end of a long day. Your eyes scan the crowd, hoping someone will intercede- a watchful mother, an older sibling or friend, but no one seems to be with the girl and the man is dragging her closer to a nearby taxi.

Shit.

You dart through traffic, narrowly avoiding the rumbling passage of a delivery truck, your eyes locked on the man, already memorizing his appearance in case you need to ID him later. He’s older than you, though not by much- late thirties, maybe, his thinning hair and broad gut giving him the appearance of someone older. His shirt is rumpled and sweat-stained and even before you’re in front of him, the stale smell of cheap cigars has you nearly gagging.

“Hey kid, you ok? ¿Estás bien?”

Seemingly startled out of her frozen, unnatural quiet, the girl shakes her head frantically and unleashes a torrent of Spanish that goes far beyond your own pathetic guidebook lingo- though that hardly matters.

Drawing yourself up to your full height, you glare at the taxi driver. “I don’t think she wants to go with you.”

He spits at your feet and attempts to shove past you without so much as a word.

He doesn’t.

With an irritated scowl, he shoves you hard, your tailbone barking as it collides with his taxi. In the confusion, his grip on the girl’s wrist loosens and she slips away from him. Robbed of his quarry, the man rounds on you, fury flushing his pale, sweaty face. He backhands you, hard.

You fall to your knees, the odd perspective granting you a glimpse of the girl pelting down the street at full speed. When the man turns to give chase, you grab onto his pant leg. “Leave her alone.” Cursing, he kicks out at you, his boot connecting with your hand, the side of your head. It’s this blow that sends you reeling. There’s a bright flash of pain and then everything slows, coming to you in muddled bits and pieces.

Your grip falling slack.

The crowd parting as two unfamiliar men burst onto the scene.

The cab driver landing one more kick to your skull, the blow rattling your teeth, before forcing his way through bystanders to charge for a nearby alley.

Warm, coppery blood oozing down your face.

Two forms, one already kneeling, the other backing away.

“Fish, check on her. I’ll go.”

A roughly gentle palm cradling your cheek and a pair of concerned brown eyes. “Hey, you ok?”

You giggle weakly, your vision swimming. “You don’t look like a fish.”

It’s the last thing you remember before everything goes black.

Part Two

#santiago garcia x f!reader #santiago garcia x ofc #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales x f!reader #Santiago Garcia x Frankie Morales x reader #Fic #My fic #Insatiable

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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years

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Can I ask for an request where Levi is a soldier who is pointed to protect a royal person. Then he fell in love with her active attitude, smart brain and support to the scout

AN: This took me so long. I deleted it like three times on accident so this is as good as its going to get 😂. do let me know though if I misspelled anything I didn't skim over it sooooo YOLO.

Summary: Levi is asked to attend the summer gala with !princess reader.

Word Count: 2.8 K

Warnings: mentions of Levi's scarring, some cussing? I think? that's about it

__________

Levi's hand trembled as he ran the fine toothed comb through his damp hair. He scowled back at his own reflection, eyes avoiding the pink scars that marred his skin. It had been nearly a year since he had been discharged from the military due to his injuries. At first he had struggled to find a routine, having been in the military for more than half of his life, it was a huge loss.

His hand jerked unexpectedly and the comb pulled through a knot in his hair painfully. He clicked his tongue and dropped the comb, gripping the edges of the sink to steady himself.

How pathetic.

There was a time when he could complete these tasks with no problem. But now his body seemed to be failing him, if he stood for too long his joints protested, he struggled to hold a pen due to his lack of fingers. He also wore an eyepatch to cover his milky right eye and some of the scars that covered the right side of his face.

Normally Hange would help him get ready, they were the only person he could stomach seeing him this way. But Hange was busy, they had meetings all morning. So Levi was left on his own, and he managed as well as he could. Although it took him double the amount of time it usually took, he still did it.

He grabbed his cane on his way out of his humble apartment, the carriage was waiting for him outside. In the carriage was the last person he wished to see, Zeke Jaeger. His glasses glinted in the sunlight as the coachman held the door for Levi who sat as far away from the war chief as possible.

Zeke blew out a puff of smoke, which swirled around in the small space. Levi's lip curled into a sneer, and Zeke smirked pleased to rouse a reaction from the retired Captain.

"Big day today eh Levi?" He spoke around his cigarette and Levi rolled his eyes.

"I suppose." He agreed, eyes never leaving the man.

That was about the only words exchanged between the two, the ride was thankfully short. The carriage arrived to the castle just after noon, the coachmen opened the door for Levi and Zeke. The sunlight was bright and made Levi squint, it didn't help that the castle seemed to glow as the sun bounced off of it.

"This way old friend." Zeke instructed and Levi followed begrudgingly, Zeke led Levi through the halls and into a large ball room. The castle staff was scurrying about, carrying massive bouquets of flowers and other decorations in preparation for the summer gala. Levi had attended this very event many times over his career, but he had not intended on joining in this year. Zeke paused a few feet away from Erwin, who was standing before a young woman Levi had met a handful of times. You had aged in the past two years that he hadn't seen you, although you weren't any taller, he could see the age on your face. Much as he assumed you could see in his, you also carried yourself more confidently, shoulders back, chin up.

Erwin paused and turned to greet the two men, who both saluted him and you.

"Captain, how nice to see you." You hummed, a pleased glint in your eyes as you curtsied, much to his surprise.

"You as well Zeke." You seemed less excited to see the war chief.

"Princess, you look lovely." Zeke closed the distance between the two of you, taking your hand a bit too eagerly and bringing it to his lips. You smiled a bit tersely, but allowed it.

"Ah, and you look...as hairy as the last time we met." Your jab threw Levi off, but Erwin seemed to have expected the exchange. Zeke laughed heartily and pulled back.

"Such a sharp tongue on you princess." He chuckled and you shrugged, a smug grin on those lips of yours.

"You make it easy."

"Princess, you are aware that Levi is to accompany you to this year's gala yes?" Erwin steered the conversation in a more relevant direction and you nodded.

"Mhm, and I'm very excited to be escorted by Eldia's most eligible bachelor." Levi wasn't sure if you meant it sincerely, or if it was his turn to face the wrath of your sharp words.

"I'm sure you are." Erwin chuckled, his hand falling on the back of your tricep. You gathered your skirts and took a few steps closer to Levi.

"The last time we met, you weren't keen on dancing, I do hope that's changed." You smirked at him and Levi barely fought the flush off of his cheeks as you pushed past him.

"We can go in the drawing room and discuss logistics, the gala is a mere week away after all-" Levi tuned out whatever it was Erwin was babbling about, too focused on watching you saunter out of the room.

Levi spent the next week trailing behind Erwin, attending meetings and luncheons with other high ranking military members. It was boring, but nothing that he hadn't done before. The day of the gala, Hange arrived with the remaining of the 104th cadet corps. Levi felt great relief at seeing the familiar faces, Hange had eagerly came to hug him, and he pretended to hate it. Mikasa even came and gave him the briefest of embraces, Connie had been the most excited, throwing his arms around his former captain and squeezing him tightly. Armin had grinned sheepishly, and offered a small wave. Jean just nodded respectively in Levi's direction. Gabby and Falco had tagged along as well, wearing their best uniforms, decorated with their medals.

"I can't believe we get to come to the summer gala!" Connie gushed, his hazel eyes wide as he soaked in the castle in all of its glory.

"We won a war." Jean huffed, eyes sharp, hand fidgeting with his medal on his lapel.

"We lost more than we won." Mikasa murmured, her own shaky hands reaching for a scarf that was no longer wrapped around her neck. The cheery mood quickly dissipated at Mikasa's statement, Hange cleared their throat and clapped their hands in an attempt to drag everyone from their thoughts.

"Let's go meet Erwin then." They said, and Levi nodded.

"Let's." The group walked through the halls, Hange in the lead and Levi at their side, it felt like old times. The kids, well they weren't really kids anymore, were beginning to return to their annoying selves.

"-will we be able to eat the food?" Gabby asked, and Levi nearly flinched, the statement reminded him all too much of Sasha. Connie seemed less phased, he sighed and brought his arms behind his neck as they walked.

"I sure hope so."

"We're here on business." Mikasa reminded them and Jean hummed in agreement.

"We're here as representatives." Armin added, and Hange chuckled.

"Use this as an opportunity children." Hange cooed, pausing in front of the doors to the drawing room.

"Have some fun, get drunk, you've earned it." Hange then pushed the doors open, revealing the cozy drawing room, Erwin sat with his legs crossed in one of the arm chairs, a book in his lap. He closed the book and stood, his sleeve hanging limply where his arm once was.

"Cadets, erm or should I say captains." Erwin chuckled awkwardly as the kids all jumped to salute him, fists clenched over their hearts.

"Commander." They all greeted in unison.

"Sit, we have much to discuss."

The discussion was rather tame, a short bit of it had been relevant. Where the kids were to stand, what they were to say and how they were expected to act. The rest of the afternoon had been spent catching up and enjoying each other's company. Just a few hours before the guests were to arrive, Erwin sent the group off to find their spots.

Levi found himself waiting outside of your room, his watch gripped tightly in his fist, watching the minutes tick by. You emerged about fifteen minutes after him arriving, your dress was a deep emerald green, elegantly hugging your frame in all of the right places. You smoothed the silk gown skirts and smiled at him, the red lipstick on your lips making your teeth seem extra white.

"You look ravishing Captain." You complimented, accepting his arm before walking slowly down the hall, careful to keep his pace.

"...as do you." He choked out, a blush tickling his ears.

"Did you get all done up for me?" You pressed, hand tightening around his bicep.

"No." He answered, although he was partially lying, the truth was all he could think about as he dressed, was you. How would you be dressed? Was he to match you? Or was he expected to wear his usual military dress? He had opted for the latter, and it seemed to work well, the inky black dress coat and the gold medals that decorated his lapels seemed to compliment the emerald in your dress.

"Well, I sure hope that you will at least dance with me." You pouted, shooting him a hopeful look.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue, truthfully it was all that he could mange, he was nervous enough about joining you this evening. But you asking him to dance? He had never danced in his life, and with his legs in the state they were in now?

The two of you stopped, overlooking the ball room which was already filled with guests, milling about with flutes of champagne. You snuck a glance at Levi, who was looking down at the crowd with a bored glaze over his eyes.

"Ready?" You asked, squeezing his bicep once and he nodded, chin held high as the two of you slowly made your way down the staircase. Levi's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces, which he found in their designated spots. He knew that the king had asked him to accompany his daughter largely as a political move, not for protection as he had in the past. But old habits die hard, he double checked exits and kept an eye out for shady people, it was easier than looking at you after all. Not because you were ugly, rather the opposite, you were stunning and that intimidated him.

After at least forty five minutes of socializing, the dancing began and you tugged impatiently on his arm, which you had yet to let go of.

"Please Levi, just this once." You whispered so only he could hear, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at your closeness.

"Princess." He said sternly, although his voice did shake a tad, and you grinned, knowing that you had nearly convinced him.

"Captain." You countered, taking a step towards the dance floor.

"Just one." he said after a moment's hesitation before falling back in step with you.

"Just one." You affirmed with a wicked grin as you led him into the mass of bodies.

Levi felt his pulse race, his anxiety was roaring he had absolutely no clue how to dance, especially with his legs in the state that they were. You seemed to sense this, carefully taking his hand and resting it on your hip as you stepped ever so closely to him. Your chest was pressed against his, and he was sure that you could feel the pounding of his heart as it threatened to escape his ribcage.

"You just follow my lead." You whispered as he brought his other hand to rest naturally in the palm of yours. He nodded, eyes wandering down to glance at his feet, which were partially concealed by your skirts.

"It goes something like this, step-" You took a step towards him and he took one back.

"Then to the left," You instructed softly and he obliged, the two of you moving slightly out of sync.

"Then forwards again." You nodded as he stepped forwards and you stepped back, skirt swaying.

"Then to the right," You chuckled as his brows remained fixed in a tight knot as he tried to focus.

"Then we do it again." You seemed satisfied, and he nodded it was simple enough, although he could already feel the strain of the activity in his joints.

"Easy." He huffed, taking the lead and you giggled and fell into step with him.

"Tell me Levi, when you went across the ocean and fought those men, who were you fighting for?" The question caught him off guard and he nearly forgot the next step.

"That's an odd question." Levi shot you a mean look and you shrugged.

"I want to know what pushed Humanities strongest to be so strong." You answered, unfazed by his sour look.

"I fight for the people." He replied curtly and you sighed.

"That's a boring answer, I want to know what really drives you." You pressed and Levi frowned.

"Its the truth."

"Then tell me a lie." You raised a brow, challenging him and he screwed his nose up in distaste.

"Why would you want me to lie to you?" He asked out of genuine curiosity, no one had ever given him such a request.

"To spice some things up I guess." You hummed nonchalantly and squeezed your hand that held his.

"Then I would tell you I fought that war for you." He regretted the words, but you seemed to be pleased by them.

"Aw so you did think of me while we were apart." You cooed and Levi nearly broke away from you, but he only gripped your hand harder.

"You were the last thing on my mind." he huffed and you let out a throaty laugh. A lie, he thought of you often.

"You really are funny." You let your head fall affectionately into the crook of his neck and he swallowed thickly, as your scent washed over him.

"I didn't mean to be."

"I know, that's what makes it funny." Your breath tickled his neck as you spoke, you seemed to be in no hurry to pull away.

"Hmph." He hummed stupidly, unable to form words with you so close.

The song ended and you lifted your head, one of those wide grins sprawled across your lips.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" You whispered cheekily and he scoffed as the two of you exited the dance floor. You both found a seat at one of the tables set on the outskirts of the room, taking a break to drink and enjoy each others company.

Levi rubbed his knee under the table, the dance had truly taken a toll on him and he barely suppressed a groan. You noticed, shooting him a concerned look.

"Does it bother you often?" You asked, dragging your chair closer to his. He rolled his eye and pulled his hand slowly away from his leg.

"No."

"You're lying, just tell me the truth."

"I thought you wanted me to lie to you." He snapped back and you scoffed.

"Not about this." You reasoned and he sighed deeply.

"Yes, it hurts like a bitch." He turned to face you, his knee knocking yours and you frowned.

"You should've told me, I wouldn't have made you dance."

"I-" He paused, catching himself before the words left his mouth. But after one look at your open and concerned face he couldn't not say what he had been wanting to say.

"I wanted to." He admitted and your eyes widened a fraction.

"You...really wanted to?" Your words were raw and clearly Levi had caught you, the witty young princess off guard.

"I did."

"Would you do it again?"

"Yes."

"Hm." A smug look crossed your face and Levi scowled at you, not liking the way you seemed to be plotting something unbeknownst to him.

"What?" He snapped and you let out a short burst of laughter.

"I knew that you weren't lying when you said that you thought about me." You teased and he growled lowly under his breath.

"Maybe that was your last dance with me."

"Easy now, let's not be hasty, we have the whole night after all darling." You patted his shoulder, standing slowly and walking around the back of his chair to squeeze his shoulders before slipping off into the crowd.

He hoped that you meant it, that you would come back even if he could not dance with you again. He hoped that you had thought of him too, that his fighting had all been worth it. To spend the rest of his life by your side, even if he was just your guard or even a political ploy. He would do it for you, and he would do so happily.

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goldengoddess · 3 years

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call it what you want - bucky barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: falling in love with your best friend is hard, especially if all you want is to wear his initials on a chain round your neck & kiss his face

a/n: oh my god i’m so proud of this i’m in my feels just writing it :’) pls understand the reference and appreciate it, my swiftie heart needs it !!!!! pls lmk what u guys think <3

warnings: a lil angst but honesty it’s very fluffy okay

bucky barnes was not a man of many words. he was a man made up of long looks and subtle hints, mysterious in nature. unpredictable and yet incredibly reliable.

but most importantly he was a man made up of so so much love. brimming with it, actually. bucky was made to love others.

you knew that, of course. he had shown you in every way how it felt to truly be loved.

but his love was slow, and painful, and often time consuming. the kind of love that came out in little actions, that took months, even years, to really feel it.

you'd been more than happy to be patient. to wait while bucky realized that you weren't going anywhere, that you weren't afraid of him, that he didn't need to push you away. your patience had been worth it, all beautiful things take time.

and your friendship with bucky was just that, beautiful. he trusted you more than any other person in the compound. well, other than steve of course.

though neither of you had ever said it aloud, you were his person. and he was yours. the two of you relied on each other more than you cared to admit. during missions, when his command and voice had saved you a countless number of times. but also just in your daily lives, where your comforting presence put him at ease in uncomfortable situations.

your heart was bursting with love and admiration for the man you had watched grow out of his shell into something better, someone stronger.

and how could you not fall in love with someone like james buchanan barnes?

frankly, it was inevitable.

everything he did made you fall deeper into this sinking, fantastic, terrifying, love for him. the way he said your name. the way he looked for you in a crowd. the way he understood what you were thinking before you even had to say it aloud. the way he always placed his fingers on your back as you walked. the way he adopted a stray cat off the streets and let you name it.

falling for your best friend? more likely then you might think.

and even though just the color of his eyes made you want to kiss him senseless, you couldn't do anything about it.

it would be selfish of you to act on your feelings. it would mean taking away the lifelong friendship the two of you had built.

so as you sat beside him on his bed, your head on his metal shoulder, some cliché movie you told bucky he needed to watch playing in front of you, your heart longed for the soldier sitting next to you.

bucky's hand traced little patterns on your thigh, just lines and every now and then a small circle. you were more focused on his touch than on the plot of the movie, the way bucky was.

but bucky's mind was on everything but the film. all of his attention was focused on your breathing, the way it hitched slightly whenever he let his fingers linger on your thigh for too long. the way you closed your eyes in content whenever something funny happened. he was watching you, in awe of you.

lately, bucky couldn't do anything but admire you.

as the movie played on you fiddled with your hands as a distraction, praying that your plaguing thoughts would calm down so you could enjoy this moment with bucky. but when he started drawing letters on your thigh you knew it was no use. the movie was the last thing you cared about right then.

you peaked your eyes at him, finding him already watching you. you averted your eyes to his hand on your thigh and focused on the letter. “h” you said out loud, “e,y. hey,” you combined his letters. you felt bucky nod his head and then begin again, spelling out ‘doll’ on your thigh.

you grinned up at him, feeling the air leave your lungs at the icy blue of his eyes. “hey doll,” you laughed, “hey buck.”

he smiled back at you. the way you said his name made him turn into an absolute mess. he knew he’d do anything for your if you just said his name in that pretty way of yours.

his smile had a similar effect on you. a blush spread across your cheeks and you moved your eyes back to your fingers on your lap, wishing your had a ring or something to fiddle around with.

bucky furrowed his brows at your anxious movements, “you okay honey?”

you nodded your head but the anxious butterflies in your stomach increased at his much too sweet nickname.

he lifted your head off of his shoulder, forcing you to sit cross legged facing you. you let out a small whine at the loss of contact, since he had to move his hand off of your thigh. he chuckled and grabbed your hands so you’d stop moving them around, “honey?”

you let out a sigh, if only you could tell him what was really bothering you. if only you could tell him that every single touch, word, action from him sent your body and mind into overdrive. tell him how unfair it was that he had so much control over you. “just wish i had something to mess with�� you said lightly.

bucky thought on your words for a moment, visually searching his room for something he could give you. then he heard the familiar ‘clink’ of his dog tags touching around his neck. he let out a shaky breath at the idea but this was you. he let go of his hand and slipped the chain off of his neck and around yours.

you let out a small gasp as the cold metal pressed on the back of your neck. your fingers instinctively went to the tags on the chain and pressed them between your fingers. your mouth was parted in shock as you looked up at him, not understanding why he’d given you his most prized possession.

he shrugged, as if it was the most casual thing in the world, “just mess with my dog tags. it’s no big deal.”

that was it. those words send you over the edge. enough was enough. how could he say it wasn’t a big deal? when the action made your mind go wild. it was a big deal, by giving you his tags bucky was giving you yet another part of him.

a part of him you didn’t want to have as just a friend. these tags were meant to mean something. you needed them to mean something. because you wanted to mean something more to bucky.

you let out a scoff and took the chain off of your neck, aggressively placing them back in his hands.

the look on bucky’s face was a mixture of confusion and hurt and it broke your heart in two. but you couldn’t do this anymore, the what if scenarios, questioning if every one of his actions was friendly or romantic, the possibility of something more right around the corner.

you climbed off the bed and patted your wrinkled clothing down. you gave bucky a look that you hoped conveyed what you were feeling, heartbroken and angry. angry that you couldn’t have him the way you wanted to.

“what’s wrong?” bucky asked softly, moving towards the edge of the bed so his feet were placed firmly on the floor.

you shook your head and made your way towards the exit of his bedroom. it was childish, the way you were reacting. your anger wasn’t at bucky, even if you were slightly taking it out on him. it wasn’t even about his dog tags. your anger and hurt was directed towards this situation, towards yourself. you were angry at yourself for falling for the person that meant the most to you in the world.

before you could open the door though, bucky had gotten up and grabbed your wrist, effectively turning you to face him. “doll, what’s wrong?”

you let out an angry huff and poked at his chest, “it’s not a big deal? really buck? they’re your dog tags, they’re the biggest deal! how could you even say that?”

he tilted his head to the side in confusion, “you’re angry about my dog tags?”

you let out a frustrated groan and moved away from him. as you paced back and forth across the room you tried to explain yourself, “it’s not about that! it’s about everything else! it’s about us. i don’t want to not be a big deal to you. i want to wear your initial on a chain ’round my neck! because you really know me! i want those dog tags to be something we can share. but not if it doesn’t mean anything to you. not if it doesn’t mean to you what it means to me. how i feel about you is a big deal james.”

you sucked in a breath and realized you had stopped pacing. you didn’t dare look up at bucky. you knew he was watching you, could feel his stare. you hadn’t outright admitted your feelings but you might as well have. there were few ways to interpret your words.

you watched his feet step closer towards you, until you were sure that if you looked up you would meet bucky’s intense gaze. he didn’t give you much of a choice, grabbing your chin with his flesh fingers and forcing you too look at him.

his eyes were glittering with something new. some hidden feeling you’d only seen a handful of times. an emotion bucky tried to keep hidden away for a long time.

“doll” he pleaded, not adding anything else.

you shook your head and closed your eyes in an attempt to keep your embarrassed tears at bay. “just say it” you said, just say that you don’t want me like that, that i’ve lost you forever.

you kept your eyes closed as you felt him let go of your chin. you prepared yourself to hear him walking away, closing the door behind him, never to speak to you again. instead, for the second time that night, you felt cold metal on the back of your neck and an unfamiliar weight against your chest.

you opened your eyes and found bucky staring at the chain around your neck. he picked up his hand and caressed your cheek lovingly.

he took a deep breath and both of you prepared for whatever he would say next. “honey. i did one thing right, and that was trust you. it was letting you see all the parts of me, and trusting that you would still want me around. you love my love me like i’m brand new. and it’s all i’ve ever wanted. you, are all i’ve ever wanted.”

he picked up the tags hanging on the chain and rubbed them with his other hand, “this is just another part of me i want you to have. you already own my heart and every other part of me, might as well have my initial ’round your neck too.”

the blush on his cheeks made your own face heat up. you couldn’t quiet comprehend what he was saying, couldn’t accept it as a reality. this whole moment felt like a day dream.

bucky ducked his head down and placed his forehead against yours. you closed your eyes happily. all of the anger and tension from earlier, dissipating from your body, replaced by pure bliss at the feeling of bucky so close to you. the air was charged with something new, and the both of you could feel it. and you both welcomed it.

“hey bucky?” you whispered, still not opening your eyes in fear that it would break whatever spell you two were under.

“yes doll?” he whispered back and you could practically hear the smile he was more than likely wearing as he answered.

"what's this thing between us?” you asked hesitantly.

bucky moved his head away from yours, causing you to open your eyes. he grabbed the sides of your face and grinned like a fool, “call it what you want to, i just know i want you.”

later, as the two of you sat tangled together, closer than ever before, you couldn’t help but touch the dog tags around your neck. now they didn’t feel so foreign. they were familiar, the same way bucky was familiar. bucky traced little patterns on your thigh that night, similar to how he had earlier. but now you felt the distinct outline of little hearts, and you knew that nothing else mattered much when you had bucky.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel au #marvel mcu #mcu #marvel #bucky fluff #happy bucky #bucky

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chocoladieimagines · 3 years

Note

Hey can I request akatsuki fluffy HC with a black reader

Thanks 😊

Sure thing! It took me a bit of a while to think of an idea but I got you! I also hope it’s fine that I am comfortable only doing a few of the members in the Akatsuki🤎🍫Enjoy!

Akatsuki x Black! Reader

For one of their missions, two people are sent to a village called Nikkōgakure, meaning Village Hidden by/among Sunlight. They see a possibility of finding the person they’re looking for by infiltrating a local rally, but only experience the feeling of nostalgia after seeing a childhood friend. Y/N L/N is a civil rights activist who has become very well known throughout villages and is sought out by citizens for social change.

Kisame Hoshigaki

- The Akatsuki had to operate in teams that would be most efficient in earning money but also not draw attention to themselves. With two shinobi, it’s the bare minimum to have an actionable team that can accomplish goals.

- Two individuals highly skilled such as Kisame Hoshigaki and Itachi Uchiha are sent to the village, acquiring information about the shinobi forces so the Akatsuki could provide more mercenary services.

- Aside from tracing Jinchuriki, a back up plan was to make countries increasingly dependent on Akatsuki’s services, corner the entire market for shinobi missions and eventually put all of the shinobi villages out of business.

- Kisame didn’t expect the village to have such an ethereal beauty; everything in honeyed tones like there was a layer of tinted filtering added to the sky. As the sunlight sauntered in, it ignited shadows to vivid oranges and reds, giving vivacious hues to the village like it was another world of art.

- The broad days of sunlight allowed tenacious vegetation; flowers seen in every turn he made.

- The truth was that the people could never see flowers too many times; they brought flowers into hospitals and graveyards, used them as a vibrant way to express their love and would plant them in their backyards though they couldn’t bear any edible fruits. The village spent thousands replacing them along the streets and as soon as they would brown, more are brought in.

- “Maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad.” Kisame said to himself but it was more likely loud enough to be heard just between the proximity of him and Itachi.

- “Yes, there’s something about it that makes it look so peaceful. Like it’s ducked off from the world’s ugliness and imperfection.” Itachi spoke. “Therefore, we will not spark any attention on ourselves. We will only pursue what is absolutely necessary.”

- Kisame followed in Itachi’s words as they watched villagers gather inside of a place, soon walking behind them.

- They both sat in the corner of the room at a small table, everyone’s conversation dying down after the lights dim.

- Kisame heard the sound of heels becoming discernible as they progressed closer to the stage. Once they stopped, the spotlight shined on a beautiful woman.

- He felt himself be captivated by your features; dark satiny brown skin, these dark expressive eyes—pools of honey each time the sunshine hits them, as you wore your hair naturally in its born state.

- You greeted everyone with a warm smile and it seemed a lot of your audience has seen you before—Kisame knew he definitely has.

- He remembered you back in Kirigakure, Village Hidden by Mist or The Hidden Village of The Land of Water. He often saw you tagging along the crewman that traded goods with his village. Having many adventures as a shinobi prior to joining the organization, some of his missions consisted of being involved with the lakes featured along the many islands composing his village.

- The two of you have crossed each other up until the point you kindly greeted him and couldn’t help but feel intrigued by his unique features. He didn’t take offense from it, taking in mind how your voice sounded out of admiration and saw your hand raise a bit like you wanted to feel his features you thought as surreal.

- He only smirked a bit and answered that that was the heredity of his folk, then turned the question on you and asked, “How come whenever the sun hits your skin, you start glowing?”. He watched you stare at him in shock.

- From there on, you two had nice conversations but then you suddenly didn’t see him anymore. You assumed he was getting caught up in a lot of missions and became too busy, which lead to dreading if he could’ve been killed.

- This proceeded for years unbeknownst of him participating in the Akatsuki. But today, he saw you stand behind the podium winning cheers from the crowd. He felt the weird feeling of an adrenaline rush pumping through his bloodstream as his heart rate accelerated by the second he kept looking at you.

- He began to space out from your words, then pondered to himself how he followed the code of the Shinobi in order to “kill his emotions”, which would prevent the average from running wild and causing the mission to be a failure.

- Despite if he was able to feel a drawback from violence, he sadistically enjoyed fighting so there was nothing more that could ever make him feel so vulnerable. He didn’t want to look weak.

- Itachi noticed how Kisame stared at you and honestly he couldn’t blame him. But there was something he sensed other than the gravitation of your beauty, but more like Kisame was remembering you. Like he recalled your appearance from years ago and felt some type of desperation or allure to speak to you.

- “If you wish to speak to her, I recommend this cafe I saw not too far from here. Or take her for a stroll along the street side and visit this flower shop with the biggest garden. But do it when it’s getting darker— the time we’re not on duty.” Itachi assisted, much to his friend’s surprise. “Trust me, I don’t need my sharingan to see how you look at her.”

- With that, Kisame left an anonymous note, telling you to meet him at the heart of the village, where there’s an enormous flower bed, at 8. You wore a fitted kente dress with bell sleeves flaring at your wrists and adorned your hair with a head wrap—having the complementing color, red. His eyes lit up when he saw you approaching the address, watching you look around until you see a man rise from where he was sitting.

- Your mouth was agape in shock as you had a closer look, throwing yourself at him before slowly wrapping your arms around his neck. Kisame stiffened at your display of happiness since he wasn’t sure how you felt about his appearance, if you had a new life with someone or if you shared the same feelings as him. Yet, he wrapped an arm around your waist and walked with you that night.

Deidara

- Deidara felt at ease by the village he was assigned. Unfortunately, being tasked with Tobi made his experience less enjoyable than he would’ve liked.

- But he accredited Nikkōgakure for the artful displays of rainbow freckles adorning the window boxes, the raised medians, or by canopying storefronts. The village always seemed like it was in the presence of a clear sky; the sun mooring itself in the blue as if anchored to heaven’s ether. It wasn’t too hot, nor too cold but adequate for the black cloak he was wearing.

- Tobi openly expressed his awestruck by continuously wanting to stop at places. He even grabbed a brochure upon entering which contained a map of the village, since they were aware of often having newcomers.

- He wandered different places to the point where Deidara would be looking in one direction and next thing turn to see that Tobi is gone. He caught him sniffing the ingredients being chopped up at a vegetable soup stall; tasting some of the scooped broth from the wooden spoon the cook used to mix.

- Deidara snatched him from the stand, “You dunderhead! Do you know what we were even sent here for—,” Tobi raised a finger in clarification. “Don’t answer that question. We are here because there was traces left of a jinchuriki, while you’re steady lollygagging around with your head stuck in a shit-filled world of cupcakes and rainbows called your ASS! Hm. It’s like I’m looking after a fucking child.”

- But then, he noticed that Tobi was looking in another direction; poking his finger out for a black swallowtail butterfly. His menacing glare made the male detect it was silent and looked towards Deidara. “I’m sorry, what did you say again?”

- The blond growled in frustration, chasing after Tobi until he caught him and punched him unconscious. With a huge knot on the man’s head, he snored with a snot bubble drawing from his nose as Deidara dragged him by the back of his collar.

- Suddenly, the snot bubble popped shortly after Tobi awakened. Five minutes into realizing Deidara was pulling him, he caught sight of an art exhibit.

- “Hey Deidara!” Tobi’s childish accent startled the boy. “How did you—” “Look! An art exhibit!”

- Deidara begrudgingly turned to his side to see what appeared to be a church with gardened—pruned—shrubs of hydrangeas; blossoming large, globe shaped flower heads in shades of purple, blue, pink and white.

- “I’m not falling for another one of your shenanigans.” He resisted. “Oh please! I promise this is the last stop! Gaah, I thought you liked art.” Tobi whined. “Art comes in many forms. What would you know about it anyway? Hm.” “It just looks so pretty in there. Do you even try to take your time with things once in a while? Ya know to soak everything in? Enjoy it while it lasts? Yeesh, you should indulge in yourself more.” “Shut it.”

-Although, in the back of Deidara’s mind, Tobi actually made a point. Their duties often consisted of violence after the lead of Nagato or “Pain” concluded that the only way the world would turn away from its constant warfare would be to experience such catastrophic death destruction that it could never again stomach the idea of conflict.

- Nikkōgakure had many amenities that it already looked like it was in its own world of peace. There were only a few times the members had a day off, why not take the opportunity to enjoy himself a bit while he had the chance now? “Your pondering silence means you’re letting my words settle in, doesn’t it? Go on, I’m waiting.” Tobi said, beginning to file his nails. “You really have the nerve to test my patience when it’s my decision to choose how we’re carrying out our mission, hm. I bet you chose an art exhibit just because you knew I like art.” Deidara anticipated. “Who cares? Can we just go in now?”

- Tobi rocked on his heels and swayed in place in impatience, mentally questioning what could possibly be keeping the boy from submitting into a positive answer. Deidara sighed, “Fine, whatever. We don’t have all day.”. The man-child squealed and raised his arms in the air as he quickly ran through the doors. Approaching the exhibit, Deidara’s interest in the hydrangeas returned; feeling drawn to reach out to a grouplet of periwinkle flowers. He was surprised to feel the sensation of paper, stroking his thumb on the cut out petals to realize they were made out of coffee filters. “Incredible, they look so realistic.” He thought.

- On entering, it was even more colorful inside; each of the whitewashed walls possessed by the colors refracting and dispersing from the sun’s light. The walls had pictorial designs of contrasting pieces like mosaics but as stained glass. They took on the designs of flowers with their leaves blooming from the lead frame by being painted along each side of the room. Most significantly, up in the front of the main entrance, there was a large window panel of a tree; it’s branches winding away from it into leaves of different colors. They were soft shades of pink, blue, yellow and green. “Truly beautiful.” Deidara thought.

- Then, he realized he lost track of Tobi. Although Tobi was an adult and could take care of himself (past tense “could”), it was more like he couldn’t because of his antics. Plus, he wanted to make sure they remained on track of their mission.

- On his search to look for him, he was still in amazement of the exhibit and found himself walking down different halls. The building was a combination of both indoors and outdoors. Some of the roofs became like a greenhouse; transparent ceilings allowing the sunlight to shine through as rooms became greenery with more artwork.

- There was a imperceptible voice down the halls, so he began to follow it. He was finally brought to another room but it was filled with people. He almost ignored it until he caught a glimpse of a girl. You were on stage, a blissful smile wide on your face while he acknowledged that you were the one speaking. He took a double take once he saw you; your hair is in tribal braids, free of your face as they accentuated your golden features. Your eyes never aged, they still spoke of your youth and liveliness.

- Just as he remembered, back in the days before he joined the Akatsuki, you two were friends in his home village, Iwagakure: Hidden Stone Village or The Hidden Village of the Land of Earth.

- You were a ceramist in the Ceramic Village, a small village in the Land of Wind, who was a practitioner of Hanasaki. Hanasaki was known for its pure white color and the series of fine cracks that run along its surface which resembled blossoming flowers (befitting its name). As it brought fame to Ceramic Village, Ninja of Sunagakure frequently requested that parts for their puppets be made in the Hanasaki style, but Hanaski was already difficult to produce for mere ceramics.

- Masho, leader of the ceramic village and created of Hanasaki, rarely took requests because of this. However, you were compliant with many ninjas including Deidara who used the high-quality clay because inferior clays wouldn’t take the exact forms he wanted nor would their detonation be as impressive. Hanasaki was the best clay he found as well as you being the best person he could rely on it from.

- Ceramic Village began running low on Hanasaki but you had set up kilns and workshops throughout villages and found different types of clay, including a muddy clay in the Village of Lies. Back in the village, Masho and other Hanasaki ceramists were killed because it was bringing the village to its downfall from hugely relying on Hanasaki as a source of income. The killer‘s motive was that it would be better to pursue new art styles.

- But, you survived because you often hung out with Deidara, flying on his C2 dragon (a large, flight capable dragon), while he showcased different explosives and experiments he made. You convinced him into throwing them into the air like they were fireworks so he wouldn’t hurt the tons of life below you. He enjoyed seeing your reactions to his explosives because he wanted to impress you, to show you that your clay wasn’t going to waste.

- This soon came to an end when he suddenly left the village as an S-Rank missing nin. Now that he was seeing you currently, many of his memories were brought back to him and so were his feelings. The instant he saw you made him feel warm inside, like he body began starving for sweetness and clung to an emotional sugar source. The sound of your laughter along with the people in the room ignited something in him.

- “Deidara! There you are. You know you shouldn’t run off like that, I was looking all over for you. But I gotta say, I knew you would explore this place top to bottom.” Tobi said. “You dumbass. It’s not my fault you got lost in here and along that, sounding like a baby looking for his mom. Hm.”. Tobi shook away what Deidara had to say and instead looked ahead to see you. “Sweet mama, whose the babe? Don’t try to deny it Deidara, I saw you making goo goo eyes at her,” He began nudging him. “Come on you can tell me. Who is she? Your girlfriend? Best friend?” “She is none of your business.” Deidara said through grunted teeth.

- He wasn’t sure about going up to you. He expected that you would be mad, if anything feel betrayed that he could’ve used you for Hanasaki clay. Really, he enjoyed your company and developed feelings for you. But he didn’t think that you returned them and after all, there were many other ninjas you made clay for. So, he left without telling you, not thinking it would mean much or have a significance.

- Yet, here he stood, watching you shake hands with the host of the event as everyone applauded you for your speech. “I may be a dumbass but you really would if you don’t go and talk to her.” Tobi chimed into Deidara’s trance. “Don’t tell me what to do. Don’t you think I would if I could. Hm.” “Why can’t you? She’s right there! The gods have chosen you two to meet each other again!” “Would you shut up.” While they were bickering, you slowly walked up to the blond, recollecting your memories of your old friend.

- “Deidara?” His body jolted at the sound of his name, like you scared him or he was caught by surprise. He slowly turned to look at you, his roseate cheeks burning when you were much closer to him than behind the podium. You looked even more attractive to him being a short distance away; the way your lashes distinguished the gold flame in your brown hues, the way the sunlight shining through the transparent walls hit your skin. “Long time no see.” He could only say through his awestruck, expressing his familiar smirk he always given you. Maybe Tobi did hand it to him this time, he could’ve been onto something all along.

Obito Uchiha

- “Tobi” arrived at Nikkōgakure on his own. Instead of it obligating to be a mission, he knew where your whereabouts were and visited the village following as you described.

- “Dear Tobi, It’s a village named Nikkōgakure. It is very beautiful here; there are flowers everywhere and the people seem so happy. You will notice the disappearance of clouds but a clear blue sky, making way for the sun’s rays. I believe Nikkōgakure has made a settlement somewhere near the outer circle of the equator since the village’s weather is always content and sunny—just right. Turns out, I will be included in a meeting with other kages in order to suggest a change in poverty villages or else referred to as slums. They are low income places where people were displaced in from wars. We are planning to be supplementing money and food into these villages so they may rise and expand on shinobi forces. Then we could affiliate our alliances for times of need...meet me at the sun perennial garden. I hope to see you soon. Sincerely yours, Y/N.”

- You met Obito after he was saved from White Zetsu who was following orders from an elderly Madara. You were a subordinate of Madara, who took you under his wing because of your omni-benevolence. Along with his Eye of the Moon Plan; replacing the contemporary world of violence and death with one where nobody ever needs to die, he spent his time keeping a close eye on Konohagakure to find a suitable pawn to take his place.

- Omni-benevolence meant that you had the capacity to be infinitely good and good in every capacity that good is recognized by any sentient being in existence. This associated with embodying virtues that consisted of your capability of seeking unity and being able to join others or have others join you. You subconsciously emitted an aura that could induce emotions; generally that of compassion, courage, peace or charity. The inducement would draw others to you; alluring social attraction to make people feel appreciation, respect, trust or a liking towards you. It would form an allegiance with that person or anyone you encounter.

- Madara observed this and thought he could use it as another tactic for his idealism of world peace. He could use you to align different villages who crossed each other as enemies and end all conflicts that contributed to war. At the time, since you were only a simple villager who worked at an orphanage in Konoha, it took little for Madara to send Black Zetsu to sway you into Madara’s plans. Black Zetsu opted that you were born with supernatural/psionic abilities and could be the aid for world peace, leading you into the mastermind behind it.

- From the moment on, you were by Madara’s side and helped tended to Obito’s injuries; following the procedure of removing his body parts too damaged to be healed and replacing them with limbs cultivated from the cells of Hashirama Senju. Obito felt frightened by the legendary Uchiha but immediately fell comfortable by your mere presence. He felt indebted to Madara for saving his life, along with you and was willing to render any assistance he could, an offer Madara made clear he would collect upon. However, you had no harmful intentions and would often share your backstory with Obito as a way of bonding.

- Being an orphan himself; Obito grew up without knowing who his parents were and was left in the care of his grandmother. Hence, he felt alone in the world and aspired to become the Hokage so that the people of the village could acknowledge his existence. Finding out that you were training your natural abilities by working at an orphanage, made him feel warm and felt as though you were doing him a favor too.

- After witnessing the loss of Rin Nohara by Kakashi unintentionally plunging his chidori through her heart, Obito vowed to do anything for Madara if it could bring him together with Rin and Kakashi again. Now, Madara would explain his Eye of the Moon Plan and imparted all of his knowledge and plans to Obito, taught him abilities he would need moving forward, entrusted him with his possessions and would have you along with Black Zetsu to assist as a guide. Until Madara’s revival, he told Obito that he would act as Madara Uchiha.

- You knew all about the plan moving forward and there wasn’t a single bone of malevolence in your body. Although Obito was technically in leadership of the plan, you walked up to the man while he watched the sunset and made a proposal to him, newly as Madara.

- “How about we go through with the plan in two ways. I would like to go undercover as a Civil Rights activist to create conditions for the healing of the brain as a resolve to world problems and spread more love. To spread a new philosophical idea.” You said. “Look at you, Y/N. Too pure to be tainted by the world’s sickness. You sugarcoat Earth’s harsh realities with the idea that there can be social change. If anything, humans should be wiped off the face of the planet. We take and take from Earth and yet there is not plenty for all because some of us are greedy and seek a profit. God used to be our guide. Now people worship the corruption of money. There is much evilness upon our world. We lust after killing one another. And no one seems to care.” Obito unfolded, his voice almost cracking.

- “Madara has projected his hatred onto you. It is the Curse of Hatred that has imbued your disillusionment.” You softly whispered in his ear. “An Uchiha’s love can instantaneously turn into hatred, leaving them more inclined to do anything and everything in their power to achieve their goals and show their own superiority, regardless of the consequences and repercussions of their actions. I can heal that, I can allege the world in love.” You noticed he became calmer by your words, the pace of his breathing slowed and with the patient intent to listen to you speak.

- You continued, “Love reduces the cortisol, the stress hormone, which alters brain architecture for the better. Of course I agree with you that humans are imperfect, their flaws drilled and fracked into our planet. We aren’t evolved enough to be trusted with love. We’d try to engineer it, alter it, use it, weaponize it. Power addiction is always the wrong route to escape fear. The only way to understand love is to feel it, embody it, embrace it.” Obito stood in silence for a bit, you assuming that he was taking in your words. Then he sighed, “And you have a feeling this could work?” “Well, the question is, how do you know your plan will work? Will everything matter in the end?” He acknowledged your words again, feeling the lightest bit of hope. “Fine.”

- He concluded that you will have to send letters of your progress as evidence that your plan is going through development. Or else, they will result to what was set originally of projecting the Infinite Tsukuyomi on the moon in order to trap the world in a dream, thus saving mankind from destroying itself but robbing free will of the world.

- This lead up to recently, visiting Nikkōgakure to see you. Just like you addressed, you two met at the Sun Perennial Garden; the flower beds of Daylilies, Hollyhocks, Geraniums, Alstroemerias, etc. The huge glass enclosed garden was filled with butterflies and hummingbirds, like an exhibit, with pathways of stepping stones—tiny flowers blooming between the crevices. He felt that warm feeling again, just as he did when he was first getting to know you. He looked at you with your hair braided into dookie braids (or known as jumbo box braids) that lengthened down your back. You dressed in a patterned halter top with a matching wrap skirt and strapped heels, expressing your body to the homely temperature. He thought you looked more prettier than ever, not because of your open honey brown skin, but because of the peace illustrated on your face. It made him realize maybe the death of Rin could’ve meant something. Not that it was good.

- But was it for the sake of moving on? Meaning so he could make room for another? Or so he could realize the inevitability of death opens the door to pure potential that can make you a better, more open and loving person? All he knew was that it all had to wind down with him meeting you and slowly falling in love like you were saying. I can allege the world in love.

Sorry to keep everyone waiting! I hope you all are having a great day and enjoyed reading!🤎🍫

#naruto x reader #obito x reader #akatsuki x reader #Naruto shippuden x reader #deidara x reader #Kisame x reader #naruto x poc!reader #naruto x black reader #Akatsuki x black reader #obito uchiha x reader #anime x black!reader

216 notes · View notes

gaiuswrites · 3 years

Text

King of Cups || Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Page of Swords

Archive: ao3 | masterlist | three

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: You attempt a new skill. Mando attempts to teach you.

Word count: 4.7k~

Rating: Mature

Warnings/tags: gun usage/mentioning throughout, mature language, pining, more dirty thots-ish, angst because why not, does this count as fluff? sure, gun kink if you squint w/o your glasses

Notes: As the reader (you/us) begins to become more familiar with Mando, his perspective starts bleeding in to the narrative, without a blocked off POV. Also, the reader’s past will start weaving (incoherently?) into the story as well. The large italicized chunks denote past tense interactions (which is probably obvious but who knows any more). Cheers x (gif credit: @djarinsgf)

A shot rings out.

Birds explode from the canopy with offended squawks, squalling in a winged flurry to scatter every which way until they recede again into the green, disappearing back into their hiding places. You groan. You thought you’d be better at this.

It’s not that you thought you were some sort of savant, you just didn’t expect to be this bad. Honestly, it’s embarrassing—you’re embarrassingly terrible— like statistically, you should have hit something by now, but you just keep missing—a crowded tree line in front of you, and not a scratch in sight—nary a singed branch nor a bullet holed trunk. It’s almost impressive how poor of a shot you are—and you would be, if you weren’t so damn exasperated with the whole affair. With a frustrated grunt, you throw your hands up, brandishing the weapon haphazardly.

“Careful,” Mando warns slyly, “you could hurt someone with that thing.”

“Yeah, well at least I’d hit something,” you grumble.

The kid had been fussy - almost unbearably so - in the weeks that followed your short stint on Bajic, and your party was itching for some time off the Razor Crest. After his third tantrum in a day, Mando decided to land on some unknown planet you couldn’t even spell to stretch your legs and take a breather.

You had almost sobbed when you saw him drag his menagerie of weaponry over. You knew what this meant, you knew what came next—his weekly, routine buff.

You think he’s doing it on purpose.

Ever since the first time, when you damn near had a conniption ogling him, you swear it’s like he’s doing it just to mess with you. He isn’t—of course he isn’t, rationally you knew that, in fact there was plenty of evidence to the contrary. He’s a Mandalorian—weapons are apart of his religion for kriff’s sake—but Maker does it seem intentional. Premeditated. It’s like you can feel the blistering ray of his gaze on you as he takes his time, roving a leathered hand over the bulge of the shaft—greasing it, stripping it, part by metal part…

It’s all in your head, you told yourself. It’s all in your fucking head and you need to get a grip.

Immediately you sprang into action, busying yourself with anything you could get your stupid, little hands on—in this case, being one of his many blasters.

“I wanna give it a go,” you said.

He let you, surprisingly. He hesitated, at first, his helmet tipping at a disbelieving angle. But he gave in—it took less effort on your part than you’d figured—and Mando conceded. He obliged.

How hard could it be? You thought.

Famous last words.

He’s parked there, settled on a throne of crates pushed flush to the Crest, slouched against the outer hull of the ship as he cleans, from the looks of it, every item in his arsenal—a front row seat to your pathetic endeavor and you’re failing—epically, ridiculously—shot after errant shot.

You line yourself up, scrunching your face in concentration as you bare the blaster in your hands. Maybe this time…

You fire off a round and an animal scampers scared in the thicket. Nothing. Another sublime miss.

You hear a noise come from Mando’s direction, something subtle like a blip of static through his helmet - Maker, he’s laughing at you - and you pivot around to him.

“What,” you ask, although it's less of a question and more of a griping pout. He replies with silence, that fickle language he's mastered to perfection all on his own, his focus pitched down to the bristled rod he’s driving in and out of his rifle, scouring out the residue from the inner barrel. “Ugh, what Mando?” you say, just shy of a whine, one hand slotted on your hip, the other dangling by your side, the pistol foreign and cumbersome in your grasp.

“Didn’t say anything,” he replies with a half shrug, his pauldrons shifting so imperceptibly you almost miss it. You pause, hurling him a look that misses him completely before you heave a frustrated sound.

“Fine, you show me how it’s done then.”

The T of his visor finds you. Its cold and unknowable as he rolls his helmet, tilting it up to you, hands slowing their ministrations to a rest. He’s wears a glare, carved into the steel hollow of the plates—unamused and smoldering—and with it, you feel small; microscopic and withering under his pointed gaze— suddenly too exposed in the open patch of jungled wilderness they’ve landed in and your mouth tweaks, teeth grazing the plush there. You assume he won’t do it. There’s no way he’ll rise to such obvious of a challenge, but he’s sighing—you can see it in the slant of his armor—and marching towards you before you can take it back, drawing closer and closer until Mando’s slated in front of you, expectant and postured and you forget— like the skip of a record, you forget why he’s even there— not a foot before you— and your eyes dance across his helm, flickering back and forth.

“May I?” he nods down to the pistol in your hand and you start - oh, shit - and offer it to him clumsily.

Mando squares off against the untamed green. The air lays hot and sticky around them. There is no trace of wind, no glimmer of breeze, and his cape hangs mute down his back. You’d never seen him fire his weapon. He surrounded himself with them, sure, always had at least two strapped to him at all times— probably even slept with one, you reckon— but you’ve never seen him use one.

With one solid movement, he cranes his arm, taking aim.

Now, you aren’t one to condone violence, but he just looks right doing it; an extension of himself with how natural it is, how innate— an added appendage, born unto him. The pistol looks good in his fist, like it couldn’t possibly belong anywhere else, the orange tips of his glove curling around the hilt, looping over that sensitive release.

He has practiced hands. Methodical. Sturdy. It’s sensual, to watch him like this. Pornographic even— sacrilege in a way. A part of you wants to look away and turn your gaze, grant him privacy as he handles the blaster— delicately, confidently. It’s intimate.

The pistol croons in his palm. She bends, supple and lilting. He knows just where to touch, where to stroke— she does anything he tells her. She melts for him.

Warmth pools in your mouth. Mando pulls the trigger.

He lands an impressive shot onto an impossibly narrow tree trunk nestled further in, and your features contort with amazement. Maybe you want to see it again—like a nosy neighbor peeping in through drawn curtains. Maybe you’re being reckless and smarmy, and maybe you know it. A Mandalorian’s got a gun in his hand and you’re prodding him - brilliant strategy, top marks - but your adrenaline is pumping something fierce and you feel yourself grow bold with each seize of your heart.

“Lucky shot,” you huff.

He pans to you, lolling his head, visor locked onto your face. Without flinching, without gracing you with a remark, he raises his arm and fires— doesn’t even have to kriffing look. The scorch mark sizzles - haughtily, jeering - no more than a few inches away from the first. You nearly choke on the arrogance of it— the lazy, smug performance— like he can’t be bothered with any of it, as if your taunts are all so beneath him.

You have to bite down on your lip to stop it from snaking into a wicked grin.

Mando offers the pistol back to you, flipping it grip-side up in a fancy flourish before striding - strutting - back to his post. You shake your head, a determined set to your jaw and you retake your aim, squinting in the hazy afternoon light, pulling the trigger— and nothing happens.

Again, click. Nothing, click after fruitless click. You make a face, pinching—

“Safety’s on.”

You flush, thanking the Maker that your back is towards him, and switch it down with your thumb. “Right,” you mumble sheepishly, wetting your lip. You align your sights, bracing yourself for the impact—

“It’s your stance.”

Three words.

Three words, the only solace Mando provides before devoutly returning to his work.

You wait for him to elaborate, to edify you— for any manner of sage advice— but the explanation never comes; he leaves you like this, marooned with three fucking words and you have to screw your eyes shut. This man is baffling— maddeningly unhelpful— infuriatingly sparse. It makes you want to howl and rip your hair out— and you whip around violently.

“What about my st-”

Your question comes scampering to a halt, tail between your legs, throat gone dry. Mando has planted himself directly behind you— standing so close you can see your reflection in his beskar, see the blush blurring your cheek under the alien sun.

“What uh, what about my stance?” you ask, mousier now, swallowed up by the sheer size of him so near to you.

“It’s not wide enough.”

You glance down at your feet before looking back up to him. “What do you mean?”

“Turn around,” he says.

You quirk your brow at him before he repeats himself. “Turn around and spread your legs. Hips distance apart.”

Fuck, he has no business sounding like that— like bourbon and smoke and iron tang—but you do as he says. You’re shakier than you want to be— you wish you could be cool and collected but you’re not. You’re anything but, and you’re nervous. Maker, Mando makes you nervous— it’s not just the weapon in your hand, it’s him— setting you off and giving you butterflies like you’re some sort of forlorn schoolgirl. You’re a grown woman, and this is what he’s rendered you to— jittery, molten mush. It’s embarrassing. Fucking mortifying.

You guess it’s the day for it.

He doesn’t touch you, but it hardly matters; you can sense him there all the same, a shadow in your peripheral. He leaves a thick breath of space between your bodies and with your back towards him, you can feel the waves of heat radiate off the bounty hunter, pulsing out out out from him and it’s almost intolerable— as if you’ve flown too close to the sun, waxed wings melting in pearled streaks down your spine.

You scuttle your feet open, parting just outside your hips.

“Arms up,” he says, and you hoist them into position. You’re sure you look as awkward as you feel, if not more, all the angles of your body feeling perfectly wrong and misplaced. “Relax your elbows,” he adds, and you do— you try to, at least.

“Too much. Somewhere in between.”

You try again, strengthening through your triceps and down your forearms.

“Better,” Mando gives. You think you feel him nodding approvingly behind you. “The important-”

Kriff, you panic.

You spin towards him, dropping your form and cutting him off with a humbled, worried look, throwing up barricades and hurdles— landmines for him to dodge. Or step on.

“Wait hey Mando, you don’t- I don’t want to take up your time,” you begin.

“You aren’t.”

“I’m serious, I don’t want to bother you with this.”

“You’re not.”

You blink.

“If you’re going to do this, you’re going to do it right.”

He speaks so plainly, unvarnished and matte— unflinchingly earnest in a way that gives you pause. It leaves no wiggle room for interpretation and you sigh, defeated, shoulders slumping as you haul yourself back around.

“Arms up,” he reiterates, but there’s no malice there; he sounds kind— untroubled. It always surprises you how mild he can be— Mando should be anything but, he’d have every reason to, but he’s calm. Patient. You wonder if he even realizes it, if he even recognizes the tenor of his own voice— how gentle it can be— under the helmet. Despite it.

“Think of your posture as firm, without tensing,” Mando explains. “Soften your knees, don’t lock them— same goes for your arms— don’t stiffen against the recoil, let your body absorb it.”

You mirror what he coaches, shooting him a curious, hopeful look over your shoulder.

“There. Good,” he says. “Now, which is your dominant eye?”

Your arms fall down to your sides. “My what?”

“Dominant eye.”

You give him a baffled look like he’s speaking another language - in all fairness, he is - and Mando emits another puff of air through his modulator, chortling.

“Eye dominance. We’re all either right handed or left handed. Eyes work the same— right eyed or left eyed. We favor one or the other— you’ll focus that one to aim.”

Oh, huh.

You still appreciatively, basking in the novelty of the information. “Really? I didn’t know that. That’s- that’s actually pretty interesting,” you muse. “Brains and brawn, huh?” You flash a cheeky grin back at him.

Mando grunts, nondescript and unaffected and robotic but he swears he can feel pink creep over his clavicle, tainting the tan of his skin concealed there.

He fits his gloved hand over yours, if only for a second, and you do your best to ignore the rough patch of his leather grazing against the thin flesh there. You try to ignore the chill that sweeps across the curve of your waist, how the peach fuzz prickles up, electrified and magnetized, as he unfurls your fingers from the gun, letting it slip from your grasp. He tucks it under his arm, keeping it pinned there with his bicep.

“Hold your hands out like this.” Mando shows you, creating an oval with his fingers— like a view finder or a scope. You mimic him, feeling like every bit of an idiot, but you don’t contradict him— you do as he does. “Now, set your focus out on a fixed point through your hands,” he instructs and you do, setting your sights on a gnarled tree branch.

“Got it?” he asks.

“Got it,” you respond.

“Now alternate closing each eye. The image should stay in the frame with one, and then shift out of it with the other.”

You frown, concentrating, and close the right before blinking over to the left— kriff, he’s right.

“Oh shit,” you mumble. “My left. It’s my left eye.”

“You sure?”

You check again, squinting through either eye, the tree bouncing in and out of the frame of your fingers. “Mhm. Yeah, my left eye keeps it centered.”

He makes a thoughtful sound. “Left eyed but right handed. Interesting,” Mando murmurs.

You glance up to him, dropping your hands. “Why is that interesting?”

“Not common. The brain’s typically wired the same way all the way down— one side of the body will be dominant. It’s not usually split.”

“You telling me my brain doesn’t work properly, Mando?” you quip dryly.

“You said it, not me.”

He holds the blaster out to you and you swipe it from him with a huffed snort, returning towards the tree line and stars your face hurts. Your face hurts and it’s burning with this asinine smile that’s digging mercilessly into your cheeks. It makes you want to massage your jaw, get the damn thing to relax. Honestly, it makes you want to give yourself a slap.

“Make sure to cross your center with it. Line it up towards the left.”

“Maker, do you think about all this every time you shoot?” you ask, mystified, as you fix your aim.

“Muscle memory takes over eventually. You’ll get there with enough practice.” Mando replies gruffly and you guffaw, loud and wonderfully ugly. You seriously doubt it.

After a series of very near misses— you are getting closer, you’ll give yourself that— your arms grow tired; the joints and muscles protest as you extend them out from your body, taut and tense— the gun dead weight in your wobbly hands.

Your shoulder smarts where you injured the tendon in the explosion. You roll it out, earning snaps and pops as it notches over the bone there. They told you you were lucky. They congratulated you - it’s not a complete tear! - and it’s on the mend well enough, but it’s weak. It doesn’t matter the weight of the object.

The longer you hold anything, the heavier it feels.

You suppose you could throw in the towel at any point, but the fact of the matter— as terrible and true as it may be— is you want to impress him. That awful, nagging feeling— you want to impress the Mandalorian. You want him proud of you— you want to be nice and shiny for him to admire, like one of the guns he polishes until it’s sparkling, until he can mount it on display and show it off. It’s absolutely nauseating— but you couldn’t stop it even if you wanted to, and you don’t. You don’t want to.

He isn’t blind to it. He sees the exertion, the tax— how beads of sweat congress around your temples, dampening the base of your scalp, butterfly kissing your skin with a sheen. A trail of wet salt, one lone pilgrim, ventures down the back of your neck, wandering lower and lower, past the hem of your shirt, disappearing into the soft valley of your spine where Mando can’t follow. His throat bobs rough against his cowl.

Transferring the pistol into one hand, you shake out the other, flexing through it and relaxing your grip.

“Wait,” he says and you cock your head back at him. Mando’s retreating to his pile of guns, rifling through the metal anthill before selecting something sleek and chrome. “Here,” you exchange pistols, giving him back the bulkier of the two. Immediately you feel the relief of this new one— it’s lighter and smaller, slighter in your grasp, too— and you turn it over in your hands, noting the way the nozzlelike barrel glitters in the sun.

You’d almost consider it pretty if it weren’t a literal killing machine.

“That’s a CDEF model. Lightweight, reliable, Dedlanite casing, standard issue for CorSec officers.”

You nod along, as if you have any clue what he’s talking about— you don’t. You really, truly don’t.

“Should be easier.”

“Mm,” you hum out in ignorant agreement, slotting your arms back up into position.

“Don’t put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire.” You rest it against the slide of the barrel, hovering nearby.

Mando shifts closer towards you, the grass grinding under his feet as he takes a half step in to your backside.

“Breathe. Don’t hold it in. Let me hear it.”

Fuck, this feels like a sin; this small gap of distance he’s erected between you as tense, as strained and feverish, as whispered confessions in the dark. Like sneaking back into your parent’s house late at night— the morning moon peering down at you with a heavy lidded gaze— knowing, knowing, keeping your secrets to herself, pressing them to her chest, winking sleepily.

It would be so much easier, so much simpler, if he just put his hands on you. Placed your body where he knows it should be, force you into the shapes and positions he’s so intimate with himself, but he doesn’t. He draws it out. He respects your space and autonomy and it makes it worse. Your imagination fills the void separating you two, and it’s running wild and rampant and depraved and—

“Focus,” he utters, his voice no louder than a purr. You’ve never heard something so mechanical make a sound so deliriously smooth, and you have to suppress a nervous scoff. Focus, he says, as if he isn’t suffocating you with how close he’s standing— as if you aren’t enjoying it— as if you aren’t vibrating down to your very bones at the proximity of the bounty hunter—so close, you bet he can hear them, rattling and slapping against each other deep beneath your skin.

“Remember what I said about your posture,” he suggests quiet-like and murmured, without a trace of condescension there—a harmless reminder. You make the adjustment, fixing your shoulders down your back, and release the stress in your arms.

“Firm without tensing,” you respond under your breath—more for your sake than his— striking it from your mental checklist.

“‘Atta girl.”

No.

No no no, Maker, you feel it. You can fucking feel it—how something low and resonant spasms beyond your belly, the clench of your empty cunt at the encouragement—the heady praise of it all.

Atta girl.

He said it softly - rudely husky - just above a whisper, something tailored specifically for you—almost like it slipped from his lips and he didn’t even notice its passing. It meandered out of him, so easy—too easy. It practically sauntered.

You’re trembling— stars, you hope Mando doesn’t see it. It’s humid and muggy and yet you’re shaking as if it’s freezing, as if you’ve got icicled snot dripping from your nose, and your nerves go haywire, fraying in every direction as you sip in a whistled breath.

You can do this. You can do this. Focus.

“Take the shot,” he orders.

Focus.

Pressing into the slope of the trigger, you fire.

You gasp excitedly— a surprised, whooping laugh tearing through you and you whip around, giddy and beaming - bright, beautiful - a lock of hair sticking to your lip. It’s the youngest, the freest, Mando’s ever seen you; maybe the happiest, too, and his stomach twists at the sight, a tourniquet cinching around him, winding and coiling until he’s convinced it’ll burst. His fingers twitch, every instinct begging him— demanding him— to reach out and return the stray strand behind your ear alongside the others but you beat him to it. Deftly, you flit it away yourself instead, and he’s relieved.

Devastated, too. Gutted.

“Did you see that?” you ask, gleeful as a child.

He pries himself off you, dragging his gaze over your shoulder to where you struck the trunk, a coaled mark charred there into the bark, before returning his attention back to you. You meet his eyes, despite the blackness of his helm— you hold them, for a breathless, ageless moment, you hold him there.

“Not bad.”

He can’t muffle the jolt of his heart as it rumbles through his chest, breaking his mouth wide open into an aching smirk. He doesn’t know if you hear it. He fears you might.

He prays you do.

///

“Cooling vents,”

Metal scrapes against the table as you place the delicate bits down, deconstructing the blaster. The Mandalorian nods, silent as a specter.

“Gas refill valve,”

Another clunk.

“Actuating blaster…” You turn over a particularly knobby bulb before peeking up at Mando through your lashes, a wry grin tugging rosy and coy at your lips. “… thing-”

“Module,” Din corrects.

“Module, right, that’s what I said.”

He sits across the galley from you, arms folded over his chest as he eases back against the hull of the ship, overseeing as you take apart the blaster, the slender little thing he gave to you - he rarely uses it anyways - as you name the pieces and parts just like he’s taught you.

“Keep it,” he told you.

You resisted. You fought it, laughed it off incredulously— stubborn to the end— argued you wouldn’t even have a need for it.

“What am I gonna do with a gun, Mando?” you balked, and Maker he’d hoped you’d never have to use it, would never have to see a firefight in your damn life let alone be in the middle of one, but he wants you to have it— have a part of him, strapped to your hip— the closest he’ll get.

He’s selfish. Din is a greedy, selfish man. He wants to see himself on you, wants you to carry him around like a souvenir from something unforgettable— something irreplaceable— a memory like warm bathwater you dip into long after it passes, and he’ll take whatever he can get— just like you, hungry for anything you’re gracious enough to feed him. And fuck, if he doesn’t hate it— doesn’t want to bury that feeling, cold and lifeless, six feet under the earth. No ceremony. No elegies. Dead and gone, returning to the dust from whence it came, crawling back into the ribcage it sprung from.

Din said your name. Firm— gentle, too.

“Keep it.”

They’ve been at this ever since you managed to hit the target that first time. Hours have passed, dawdling by on the fat little legs of a toddler, plodding and slow. The sun had set, and winged bugs the length of your palm had taken up residency in the dark rainforest, making themselves known with a haunting tune, screeching and singing into the lush wood. After the child had tried making a pass at one, no doubt in the mood for a quick snack - isn’t he always - you had agreed to retire back inside the Crest.

You were so excited, your whole face lit up— like fireworks he remembered once, through the eyes of a boy in the summered night— and you wanted more; like a sponge, sopping up all you could, sucking Din in and ringing him out for it and fuck, he couldn’t say no.

He can’t say no to you.

You start prattling out questions about everything and nothing - what blaster do you prefer, do you have a favorite rifle, what’s the difference between plasma and gas charges, you have a flamethrower on your wrist? - and before long you get him lecturing, going on about weapon safety and trigger discipline and slide bites and ammunition rounds and gun brands and serial numbers and Din knows this isn’t you. You’re a borderline pacifist for kriff’s sake— he’s almost certain that if push came to shove, you’d rather lay down your life than take one. You’re no gunslinger, and you don’t hold any aspirations to become one.

But here you are, fist tucked under your chin and leaning in to him, hanging off his every word.

You have no personal interest in weapons. Frankly you’d be pleased if you never held a gun again in your life. No, and whether Mando realizes it or not, you want to know because it’s him. You want to know him. And maybe it’s because its the most he’s given to you since you stepped foot aboard the Razor Crest— almost a month, and what you’ve gotten from him today alone has been more than he’s given in weeks— not a door so much as it is a window into his life, an allowance, a glimpse behind the beskar. Its more attention, more words and insights, more tiny gestures and maybe you’ve been a little starved for it— maybe you’ll eat up any scraps Mando tosses with a calloused glove, molded and rotting, from his plate.

Even if it’s this, even if its fucking firearms.

You want to know.

It’s who you are: it doesn’t matter what someone’s passionate about, you’re interested in their interests. You care what they care about. If they matter, then it matters. It’s who you are, webbed and weaved into the innermost fabric of your being, and you can’t pretend to be anything else; you don’t know how to unbecome.

You’re splayed before him— a bleating heart, kaleidoscoping and blooming and twisting in his hands. If only you could pry open your chest— turn yourself inside out at the seams, spill yourself to splatter, sanguined and slippery right there on the deck. You’d do it, if you could.

Am I loving enough Am I giving enough Have I paid my debts Am I worth this now, finally— Worth that which I offer, have I earned it back

So effortless, this vignette, seated here in his galley, dismembering a blaster and labeling the parts, terminology klutzy on your tongue— tripping over yourself just to get it out— looking to him for hints and clues, fluttering your doe eyes with cartoonish bats.

He answers. You laugh. He smiles.

The kid is in his pram, entranced by all the shiny baubles and bobbins just out of his reach - thank the Maker - and giggles at their little game— happy, for once, just to watch.

You and me both kid, Din thinks. You and me both.

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interstellarflare · 4 years

Text

Bend and Break || Homelander

-PART ONE-

Warnings: Gore, violence, course language, angst.

Summary: People can only bend their morales so far before they break. Homelander is the world’s greatest superhero, and you, a tech analyst, somehow become entangled in his world when he learns that you provide intel to The Boys. He makes it his personal mission to find out exactly what you know, but he never expected such resistance from someone as damaged as you. But broken things can be mended, sometimes in the most unexpected ways possible.

Author’s Note: As a bit of a disclaimer, I have only seen snippets of The Boys. I haven’t actually watched all of it, so forgive me if there are some details that are wrong, as well as the many spelling errors that will undoubtedly be in this series. There is a tag list open for those who wish to be added. Gif by @stream

You had no idea how you ended up providing intel for The Boys. You didn’t even know how they managed to find you.

You were a nobody, a nobody who so happened to be very knowledgeable around technology. You hacked into secure companies that were affiliated with The Seven, media outlets, private companies and the like, and gained whatever information you could before passing it on to the leader of The Boys himself, Billy Butcher. He stopped by your apartment at random hours during the day and night, giving you set deadlines to complete certain assignments before he came to retrieve the intel. No one knew who you were. You were so mysterious in fact, that the general public had even given you a name. The Watcher.

Not long after you were given your name, The Seven were notified of your existence. Madelyn Stillwell explained to The Seven that their servers had been hacked, and several files of important information had been taken in a matter of seconds. It was a serious security breach, and Madelyn wanted whoever did this killed. Homelander couldn’t help but agree. He volunteered to personally to do it himself, to a send a message to The Boys. It would be a good publicity stunt. If The Watcher was stopped, then The Boys would lose their only source of information. Plus, the public would love him even more.

But unfortunately for you, you had made a mistake. Vought International traced the IP address to your apartment a few days after your cyber attack, and Homelander was en route within the hour. It was a shitty apartment complex, fitting he supposed, for one who would commit such a crime against him and his colleagues. A huge uproar occurred outside the building, drawing your attention toward the ground floor. When your eyes met the form of the famous superhero waving to the adoring crowd as he entered through the lobby, a string of disgusting curses escaped your lips. There was no point in running, he could catch up easily. There was no point in hiding, the fucker could see through walls. There was nothing you could do except panic internally, and hope that maybe Billy and the others knew about this conundrum.

Before you had another second to think, heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, eventually stopping in front of your apartment door. You stood in the centre of your apartment, debating whether or not to open the door and atop that horrendous knocking, or answering Billy’s distress call on your laptop. If you made a run for your laptop, he would know. There was no doubt that the son of a bitch was using his x-ray vision to watch you sweat. He was probably reviling in the fact that he had caught you, and that there was nowhere for you to go. Regretfully and hesitantly, you moved towards the door, steadying your breath before throwing it open. You swallowed thickly as your gaze met Homelander’s blue hues, as he stared down at you with that stupid fake Hollywood smile of his. With his hands braced on his hips in that cliche superhero stance, he pointed accusingly at you, trying to keep up his heroic image as a crowd began to gather in the hall. “You, are one hard person to find Miss L/n...” he began, laughing mockingly as the crowd gathered around your apartment door.

Your eyes flickered around the crowd, some tenants you recognised, others you didn’t. Biting your lips nervously, your shrugged your shoulders as calmly and nonchalantly as you could. “I like to keep it that way...” you responded confidently, holding his gaze despite your growing fear “to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”. Homelander grinned, and without saying a word, he pushed past you into your apartment, his eagle shoulder pad deliberately knocking you out of the way. You clenched your jaw, giving the gathered crowd one last warning glare before slamming the door in their faces. You heard several muffled shouts, and hushed voice talking. What could Homelander possibly want with her? What makes her so special?

“So, you are The Watcher?” He spoke tauntingly, folding his arms intimidatingly over his chest as you turned to face him. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nodded slowly, your eyes landing on your laptop screen once again. Billy was still trying to contact you, and it was by sheer dumb luck that the tyrant in front of you didn’t notice. Homelander’s eyes narrowed, glowing a faint red as he approached “You know, you’ve done a very bad thing...” he spoke lowly, moving so close to you that your back hit your apartment door with a loud thump. Homelander could hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest, though your breath came out even and slow. “I want back what you stole from Vought International, now” he growled stepping closer so that there was barely any space left between you. You looked up at the superhero in front of you with a shrug of your shoulders, slipping out of that small space and making your way over to your laptop.

“Sorry, but I don’t have it anymore...” you responded blatantly, pressing the ‘decline’ button to Billy’s call. Homelander’s eyes returned to their normal blue out of shock, as he turned to face you bewilderedly. You leaned against the desk beside your laptop, your head tilted to the side in an almost carefree nature. In a matter a seconds, your demeanour had changed entirely. How? You were just terrified of him...he could hear your heart beating like crazy. “I’m sorry, what?...” he asked in disbelief “where is it then?”. “It’s long gone by now, The Boy’s probably have it now, so I don’t think you’ll be getting it back anytime soon”. How dare you. He was Homelander, the world’s greatest superhero, how dare you, a mere human speak to him this way. Downplaying your words, you watched as Homelander’s expression darkened, before he used his superhuman speed to suddenly appear before you in a burst of wind. You released a sharp cry as Homelander gripped your forearm, using his superhuman strength to apply agonising pressure to your limb. You winced, tears flowing freely from your eyes as he leaned forward, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear.

“I’ve changed my mind, I don’t even want the information anymore...” he began, tightening his grip which made you release a pained cry “I just want Billy Butcher. Now, I know you have contact with him. If you don’t tell me where he is in the next five seconds, I’m going to break your arm”. You shrieked, trying to pry your arm from his grip to no avail. “Five..” Homelander began, slowly squeezing your arm “four-”

“I don’t know where he is! I’m telling the truth!” “I don’t believe you, three...” He continued, as you screamed for him to let you go. You squirmed, you kicked, you tried anything and everything to get him to let go. “Two...” he whispered tauntingly, no doubt enjoying your pain. You were panicking by now. What could you do? What could you say to get him to believe you? “STOP! He comes by my apartment at random times of the day and night. There isn’t a set schedule, that’s all I know I swear!”. Silence enveloped the apartment, the only sound heard was your soft cries as the pain in your forearm became unbearable. But just like that, it disappeared as Homelander released you from his hold. You collapsed to the floor of your apartment, sobbing quietly as you held your arm to your chest. Through your tearful gaze, you could already see your arm starting to bruise, the vibrant red slowly turning to a deep purple.

Heavy footsteps approached as Homelander knelt down before you. Cupping the side of your face with his gloved hand, he lifted your head up to meet his gaze. With a small victorious smile, he spoke authoritatively “Then how about you and I make a little arrangement. I’ll stop by at random times of the day and night as well, that way, I’m bound to catch him at some point right? And when I do, I’ll kill you to set an example. How does that sound?”. You said nothing as Homelander stood up, his touch lingering as a silent promise to his threat. “Oh, and I forgot...” he called out, turning to face you with a smirk “Don’t even think about warning him, I’ll know” he continued, motioning to his ears in reference to his superhuman hearing before walking through your apartment door. As he disappeared through the adoring crowd still gathered outside, you began to sob loudly.

You had never been more terrified in your life. Your arm still hurt like hell as you trudged towards your phone, which had been vibrating non-stop the entire time. There were five missed calls from Billy, and about seven texts, all of them containing a stunning variety of swear words which you didn’t know existed.

‘Answer me damn it, fucking hell woman. What’s going on over there?’

Your hands trembled as you replied, your breath uneven as your heart thundered in your ears.

‘Not safe to talk. He knows’.

#homelander x reader #homelander #homelander imagine #the boys x reader #the boys #the boys imagine #antony starr

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

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It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: It’s the Christmas season and Loki still has much to learn. Thankfully, he has his favorite little mortal to teach him all about it. Warnings: just straight fluff A/N: Alright, it’s December, and you know what that means: time for Christmas fics! Hope you enjoy my first installment for the holiday season. Happy reading folks :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

It was bizarre, thought Loki, how seemingly overnight the world was lit up with red and green everything. Lights, wreaths, trees, inflatable decorations; you name it, and Loki could spot it from any corner in NYC. Everyone he passed seemed to be filled with joy, ready to start singing at any second. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Normally, people would give him the side-eye, but lately they passed by with a quick nod or wave. Loki doubted it had little to do with him and much more to do with the Christmas spirit floating in the air.

Ah, Christmas. He knew a decent amount about it, but had never paid too much mind to it. After all, it wasn’t like he ever really planned on living on Midgard. It was just the way things worked out. Now he wished he’d taken a bit more of an interest, for this fat, bearded, old man in a red suit made very little sense to him. And yet, he was everywhere this time of year. Though he could have asked any one of the Avengers about it, he refused to risk being teased. It should be easy enough to learn about if he truly desired to.

Loki marveled at the world in a sort of confused awe as he walked back to the Tower. This time of the year on Midgard, while so disagreeable to many, was perfectly fine with him. The bitter cold of the city at wintertime barely even felt like a summer breeze to him. One of the perks of being a perpetually cold frost giant, he supposed, was that you didn’t notice the freezing temperatures. As for those who did, well, he didn’t get why those silly little mortals didn’t just go somewhere warmer. You’d explained to him, once, that not everyone could afford to just pack up and move as they could on Asgard. A terrible shame, he thought, and he wished that he could do something to help, not that he would ever admit it. Feeling particularly generous, he dropped a one hundred-dollar bill in one of those collection bins that always popped up this time of year. It was guarded by yet another one of those strange, bearded men ringing a bell.

Hugging his so dark-green-it-was-almost-black peacoat to him, he rounded the final corner to get back home. Much like his gloves, it was more for style than anything else. Besides, no need to draw more attention to himself by dressing too lightly in the winter weather. Taking one last glance at the world around him, Loki pushed through the doors of the Avengers Tower.

“What in the Nine?” he sputtered as he was hit with a mouthful of glitter.

“Sorry, Mr. Loki,” Peter apologized. “We’re just decorating for Christmas.”

“By throwing glitter around?”

“Yeah. Why not? It’s Christmas, everything is glittery,” he said with a shrug.

“That, I can tell you,” Loki replied, patting Peter’s shoulder as he passed, “is absolutely true.”

All his other teammates seemed to be as excited about decorating as Peter was, though no one else was just haphazardly throwing that infernal sparkly dust. No, they were all using their special talents to hang garlands up from high balconies and banisters. Large ornaments and snowflakes were hanging from the ceiling. Every floor that Loki walked to was filled with merriment and yet more Christmas adornments. How they were put up so fast, the trickster god had no idea.

The common room was, much to his surprise, the least decorated place in the Tower so far. The team must have been saving this room for last, perhaps to do all together. Loki would have been upset that he wasn’t invited, but he was sure it was mentioned in one of those email blasts he always ignored. Now that he thought of it, he did remember seeing it in something that he skimmed. Regardless, this was a nice break from the hubbub in the rest of his home at the moment. In this room, there was only a tree put up and his angel working on prepping it. You.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” you sang to the music you had blasting through the room, unaware of Loki’s presence. “Everywhere you go.”

He watched in wonder as you twirled about the floor, taking out ornaments and other assorted trimmings for the tree. You grabbed a silver and gold garland and began the tedious process of wrapping it around the artificial branches, still belting your heart out. Though Loki was unfamiliar with the words, he caught on to the tune and began humming along, startling you ever so slightly. He walked up to you and grabbed your hand, joining in your spinning and dancing. Prancing around the room with you, Loki was filled with unbridled joy, and he thought he might be beginning to understand the reason for all the joy the season brings.

As you sang the final notes, you and the God of Mischief collapsed onto the couch amidst the boxes of Christmas knick-knacks, laughing your heads off. When you tried to get up, Loki pulled you back down to him, starting another fit of giggles.

“And how is my little mortal today?” he asked, playfully ticking you a little.

“I’d be a lot better if you let me finish decorating,” you teased, poking his chest.

He sighed and relinquished you back to your duties, watching you walk back toward the tree. If only he had the courage to tell you how he feels, rather than just admiring you from afar. You were best friends, sure, but he longed for more. Much more.

“Loki,” you called in a sing-song voice, batting your eyes. “Can you help me, please?”

“Of course, little one.”

He helped you string the garland the rest of the way around the tree, using his magic to get even the highest boughs. You squealed in delight as you admired your work so far, throwing your arms around Loki to thank him for his help.

Soon, the rest of the team joined you and began to hang the ornaments. No one particularly cared about where they were put, just that everyone was having fun. Loki tried to stay on the outskirts of the activity, but everyone kept pulling him back in. It made him happier than he cared to admit that they all concerned themselves with him participating. That they wanted him to participate.

“What do you think, Mr. Loki? Here?” Peter questioned as he held up an ornament in a prospective spot. “Or here?”

“The first spot, I suppose.”

“No,” Thor chimed in, making Peter worried he was going to start one of their infamous sibling battles. “The second spot, for certain.”

“I guess. I still do not understand most of this ‘Christmas’ stuff, to be quite honest.”

“Well, why did you not say so, brother?”

“Yeah, we can teach you all about it,” you added, showing up beside them. Then you snapped your fingers, getting an idea. “The tree lighting is tonight! At Rockefeller Center. We should go to that!”

“That’s a perfect idea,” Peter agreed. “So it’s set then. A crash course, then a field trip to see the tree lighting!”

Loki smiled at his friends as they bustled around him, planning the rest of the day. He couldn’t wait for later, and it made the rest of the time spent decorating even more enjoyable. Between the constant singing and cracking of jokes, there was not a dull moment to be found. While it would have usually drained Loki, he felt as lively as ever. Maybe there truly was something special about the season, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, Loki stood with his teammates as incognito as possible in Rockefeller Center. It had been agreed that they just wanted to be normal people for one, not celebrities. To keep your group warm, Loki had cast a heating enchantment that they were all more than grateful for as they waited for the tree to light. In the last minutes before it was set to shine through the night, you summarized your lessons on the holiday.

“So,” you began, “I guess it’s basically a time for love, showing others how much they mean to you. And sure, there’s all the commercial stuff about candy canes and elves and trees and Santa Claus, which is nice and all, but that’s not the real meaning. It’s about being with those you care about and spreading goodwill to all.”

Loki thought back to all the times he’d needed a little charity or a helping hand, or really just to be shown he was loved. There were certainly a plethora of scenarios to pick from in his life. A whole season to spread cheer and show everyone things are not as hopeless as they seem sounded like a splendid idea indeed.

“I quite like the sound of that,” he said with a smile. As you looked back at him, an equally warm glow adorning your features, Loki realized there was one person he loved more than anyone else. With a sudden burst of confidence, he went to tell you exactly how he felt. “I must say this now, I-”

He was cut off as the crowd began the countdown. You gave him an apologetic smile as the both of you joined in. Upon reaching the last number, the tree lit up, filling Loki with a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest. That was only accentuated when you grabbed his hand, bursting with excitement and awe. Once the cheering went down, and your group began to depart, you remembered Loki had been about to say something to you.

“What was it that you wanted to tell me before?” you asked. “Before the countdown.”

“Oh,” he said, clearing his throat. He’d already lost his nerve. “It was nothing urgent. I hardly even remember now. Another time, perhaps.”

“Well, that’s ok,” you replied, though you sounded a little disappointed. “Whenever you remember is fine.”

Back at the Tower, everyone said goodnight and parted ways to go to bed, exhausted from the busy day. In the hall between your rooms, you and Loki stopped to say goodnight one final time. You paused mid-sentence, spying something green hanging from the ceiling above you. Loki followed your gaze upward and immediately went a shade of red that put Rudolph’s nose to shame. Even before all your lessons from the day, he knew mistletoe when he saw it. And, of course, the tradition that went with it.

He heard snickering from around the corner and spotted Peter and Thor waiting for one of you to make your move. Undoubtedly, they'd fabricated the situation to try to get you together faster than you were going by yourselves. To be fair, at said pace, you’d never be together.

“Just kiss already!” Thor shouted before ducking away to give you some privacy.

“Pardon my brother,” Loki said self-consciously. “If you do not wish to, there is no law saying-”

He was cut off for the second time that night. This time, however, it was by something much more pleasurable. You had stood up on your tip toes and placed a kiss to his cheek, too sheepish to do much else.

“Night, Loki,” you said to the still stunned god. “Talk tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow indeed, my little mortal,” he said, pulling you in for another kiss, this time on the lips.

Oh yes, it was decided. This season was magical.

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theofficersacademy · 3 years

Photo

Bright birdsong heralds the new season, flowers bloom across the countryside; everywhere, people bend their heads in prayer, asking for the Goddess’ blessing so that they may reach even newer heights in the coming year. The Great Tree Moon has returned again, its warmth chasing away the fear and anguish of the past winter.

At Garreg Mach monastery, the halls are once again bustling with the fervor of new blood as they prepare for the challenges to come.

Mission: Prepare for the Academic Year!

Welcome back, everyone. The mission board for the next two months will be a special Anniversary mission board, with tasks created by you! What’s more, each task will grant a skill point. 4 more tasks will be added in October, so stay tuned!

Mission Task Board

The rain came down so suddenly that none of you manage to get your umbrellas open in time... But since your gear is drenched and your clothing unsalvageable, you decide to have a little 'sparring' in the rain. You smack the other umbrella with yours and grin. En garde! [Grants Sword +1]

A fishing expedition off the coast of Brigid offered the perfect chance to get away from the Academy and relax a little... Enjoy the sea breeze and take in the sun... If it weren't for the crest beast circling under the fishing vessel. The crew is skilled, but an extra pair of hands never hurt; you load the harpoon. [Grants Lance +1]

Recently, graves in western Adrestia have been turning up empty shortly after they've been buried. It may be the work of some grave robbers looking to make gold, but villagers have been whispering about ghastly looking people shambling into the woods late at night. [Grants Axe +1]

The carnival is in town! Nothing like a little truancy and fried treats of your choice to spend away an entire afternoon... And giant, stuffed plushes and shiny prizes catch your eye. "Play a game?" The booth attendant holds out a rickety toy bow. How hard could it be? [Grants Bow +1]

A traveling cultural show has brought a troupe of dancers to the monastery. Specializing in a powerful yet elegant style, this dance combines elements of both art and gauntlet combat technique, and is said to have originated from the soldiers of House Bergliez. it's a rare sight to see art and war so seamlessly intertwined; on the other hand, maybe it's the strikingly handsome instructor who's drawing the crowds, who seems to have a few secrets of his own… [Grants Gauntlet +1]

Magic isn't real and anyone stupid enough to think it is is just another sheeple, so says a group of naysayers protesting outside of the church. All black magic? Fake. All white magic? The work of a charlatan. All the Reason teachers have had enough. See if you can get rid of them, but with discretion. [Grants Reason +1]

With exams right around the corner and warm weather, it is difficult to stay focused. Maybe a little break wouldn't be so bad? With the Great Tree Moon in session, trees' leaves have turned a pastel pink. A little ways out of monastery grounds lies a large tree pink with leaves and... ribbons? A petite merchant with a sack twice her size informs you these ribbons are people's wishes and hopes tied to the trees ribbons. She goes on and on about fate and destined love. She pushes a pink ribbon your way, insisting you give it a whirl. What's the worst that could happen? [Grants Faith +1]

The academy professors are bogged down with work and need a little extra help. Teacher's assistant positions have been opened up and are available to just about anyone willing to lend a hand. Try your hand at helping teach some of your fellow students—or get an inside opportunity to change you and your friends' grades in the assignment logs. [Grants Authority +1]

The Brotherhood Of Ostentatious Mayhem, also known as BOOM, are testing some new projectiles that they swear are harmless and mostly just for show. To that end, they've enlisted you and several other students to prove it to the Church. They paid you, so you want to believe them, of course. But it's hard when you're staring down the business end of a cannon with nothing more than a misfitting set of armor. [Grants Heavy Armor +1]

The Havers of Rideable, Sizeable Equestrians (also known as HORSE) have posted fliers around campus advertising a competition: whoever can dress up their horse (or other mount of their choosing) in the prettiest, most dashing accessories will win a grand prize—unknown for now. You don't actually have to own a mount to enter, as you can "borrow" one from the stables. Find some flowers and get to braiding that mane and see if you have what it takes to win! [Grants Riding +1]

A flock of winged creatures with beautiful tassel-like feathers have been spotted nesting near monastery grounds. Most have never seen these animals before, but students from Nohr and Hoshido have been calling them "kinshi." Apparently, these giant birds are common mounts back in Hoshido. Perhaps you'd like to tame one for yourself… [Grants Flying +1]

Frequently Asked Questions

These aren’t the only threads I can do, right?

Of course not! These are just prompts to help give some ideas of possibilities. You’re always free and encouraged to make up your own threads.

How do I claim the skill points?

In order to qualify for the skill point, the thread must clearly allude to the listed task and preferably feature the task being completed. However, you can still claim the skill point if your characters narratively fail. You do not need to message the masterlist to claim your skill point.

Can I only do one task?

Nope, you can do as many as you’d like with as many different partners as you’d like! You can do the same task with more than one person! However, you can only claim any skill points once.

Remember to use (and track!) the #toa open tag for any open threads, and you can also post a link to your open thread on the appropriate Discord channel! If you have any other questions or concerns, shoot us a message through the masterlist or on Discord!

#toa mission #mission: anniversary 2021

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sunidhichauhan52 · 1 year

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Trends To Hop On To If You Need A Successful Mobile Application

Read on to learn why you need to hire the same agency to perform both your search engine optimization and social media marketing strategies.

What Effect Does Social Media Have On Search Engine Optimization (SEO)?

• Broad content dissemination

• Extended shelf life for your postings

• Boost organic traffic and internet presence

• Improve the brand's reputation.

• Improve brand recognition

• Improves regional search engine optimization (SEO)

1. Develop Link Possibilities

2. Improve Your Social Media Profile

One of the first things a potential customer or consumer will notice is your company's appealing social media presence, so invest the time to make sure it appropriately portrays your business.

Give as many details as you can to make your company's performance clear to the public.

3. Improve social media image quality for SEO

These elements are essential for the optimization of your content by the algorithm. Search engine optimization specialists recommend the following tips while taking photos for social media platforms:

· Image File Names: Make use of important keywords in your image titles to attract viewers.

· Alt Tags: Alt tags are HTML codes added to photographs to assist algorithms in comprehending a concept.

· Unique Pictures: Even though using stock photos is convenient, many companies already do. Consequently, they don't make your brand stand out. Use distinctive pictures to prevent this.

4. Utilize social listening.

Use social listening to monitor what is happening with your competition and others.

5. Establish Authority

One of the greatest benefits of content marketing and social media advertising is that if you continually post high-quality material, you eventually get to be known as an authority in your niche.

#search engine optimization seo #social media marketing strategy #search engine optimization #social media advertising

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moonbeambucky · 4 years

Text

Hey Neighbor (Part 16)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2694 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 15 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Six weeks. That’s how much notice Bucky gave you until the wedding. You said yes to being his date before you had actually confirmed anything with work. The wedding was on the first Saturday in June but you would need to take off of work that Friday as well.

Technically one day off from Stark Industries wouldn’t be so bad and as predicted you were given the day easily. Unfortunately, you would have to take two days off at Metro-General and you really hoped that would be alright.

You hadn’t taken many days off since you began; a day for when you had food poisoning, another on the day of Wanda’s museum exhibit, but the hospital was a busy place and Elena was notoriously strict. Plus the more days you took off meant the more hours you would have to make up, which meant the longer it would take to fulfill your final requirement before graduating.

Once again, Marya’s words come to mind. Life will not wait for you so you needed to live it in the moment. It’s only two days.

With renewed confidence you knocked on Elena’s door and asked for the days off.

“Vacation?” she wondered.

“It’s for a wedding actually.”

Her dark eyes lit up at your answer. “Oh very nice. Where is it?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Somewhere in Long Island,” you chuckled, explaining that you were asked by a close friend to be his date.

After all these months of working together you realized this was the most personal conversation you’ve ever had with Elena. You had always tried to respect the boundaries of her as your boss but it was surprising as she seemed to open up first, letting down the guard she had carefully built up to protect herself while working in this field. Her approach carried over with her co-workers up until now.

“Mack was a close friend of mine once...” she said, turning the picture frame on her desk around towards you.

The photo showed her in the arms of a medium-brown skinned man with a dark beard and shaved head. Her whole face was smiling as she stared into his eyes and he was looking back at her like she was the only thing that gave meaning to life. Judging by their clothes you realized this was a wedding photo.

“You’re married? Since when?” You may have blurted that out a little bit louder than you expected but it was a bit of a shock considering she doesn’t wear a ring.

“Since I asked him,” she laughed. “Two years now, but we’ve been together for six and friends for a lot longer than that.”

Ahh now you understand what she was implying. “It’s not like that with me and Bucky. Well…” You bit your lip with uncertainty. “I don’t know. We’re friends and we kissed once but he’s dating other people and–”

“Yet he asked you to be his date.” She smirked, giving you a knowing stare.

Elena had given you the days off but part of you wished she didn’t. On the surface, Bucky was just a friend asking another friend for a favor but the more you thought about your history the more conflicted you felt.

From the moment he’s come into your life you’ve felt something towards Bucky. Sure his looks were undeniable but there was so much more about him. The passion he had for music matched what you felt for social work, and you connected, both of you realizing that each field plays an important role in helping people.

The more your friendship grew it felt like you were always meant to be in each other’s lives and you couldn’t imagine life without Bucky since he had become such a huge part of it. But you weren’t anything more than friends. That’s all.

The warm sun shines directly into your eyes as you exit the subway, trying your best to hear Peggy over the increased amount of people on the street. New York was always crowded but warm weather was a magnet that seemed to pull everyone out of their homes, drawing them outdoors to enjoy the beautiful day.

With Wanda on your left the three of you talk plans for Memorial Day weekend; it’s two weeks away and you’re trying to organize something for everyone to do together.

“I’m not sure if Sam has off or not yet but I do have some news,” Wanda said enticingly, biting her lip to contain her excitement. So many thoughts ran through your head as you waited for her to drop the details. “Sam and I are gonna move in together!”

“Oh Wanda, that’s brilliant!” Peggy said, her red painted lips stretching across her face in a beaming smile.

“I’m so happy for you two! When are you moving? And where?” you asked.

“His apartment is bigger so I’m moving there, hopefully by the end of the month but we’ll see. It’s hard with his schedule sometimes but I definitely want to be out as soon as possible.”

You offered assistance to help her pack and Peggy suggested making it a night with girls, with wine as a little motivation. “Yes, perfect!” Wanda agreed.

If only finding a dress for the wedding was as easy as helping Wanda move. You had already made a few trips to the department stores, trying on the perfect dress that fit like a dream and made you look incredible. Unfortunately, it cost more than your rent so it went back on the rack.

Your disappointing trip was made a little better by the promise of your friends to help you which is what you were doing now. One more block to go and you would be at the boutique you’ve never heard of before where Natasha was meeting you.

Opening the doors made you a little concerned. The place looked like it was from another planet. The glossy black ceiling stood in contrast to the bright white walls that were made up of three dimensional geometric tiles.

Silver accented the space from the large framed mirrors that leaned against the walls to the velvet pewter asymmetrically curved couch outside the dressing room. The clothes themselves looked normal at least, dresses of all kinds displayed on racks within silver frames, making them look like they were encased in glass.

Peggy and Wanda spread out to look for dresses, trying to find ones that resembled the overpriced gown you had only taken a selfie of to remember it by. Immediately you were drawn to a rack of flowy pastel colored ones, draping a few different styles over your arm.

In the middle of your search you heard Natasha call your name, and turning around to greet her you didn’t expect to see an unfamiliar face. She stood next to a man that towered over her small frame. A shock of ice blonde hair and matching bleached eyebrows caught your attention first before you moved on to his outfit, a red vest, leather pants and fur coat that seemed to only have one sleeve.

“Y/N, this is Taneleer Tivan, owner of The Tivan Collection,” she whispered the last line in a way as if you were meant to know who he was.

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you,” you said, though his facial expression didn’t change.

Though his eyes were surrounded by a smudge of dark liner you were able to see clearly the way he looked down in disgust at the dresses you held.

“Carina!” he shouted, and a moment later a girl came running forward. She wore a white vinyl dress that looked more like something you expected the store to sell, although her outfit is much more subdued than her boss’s.

She waited in silence with her hands clasped in front of her, in what seemed like a routine she was quite familiar with. “These are all wrong,” Taneleer said to you and suddenly the dresses were being taken out of your hands by his assistant. “I have much better in my collection.”

To your shock Carina was beside you again, ushering you towards a different section of racks that had more appropriate gowns despite neither her or her boss knowing what event you were shopping for. Thinking back, the pastels might have been a bit too casual anyway.

As you perused the new section you found an assortment of beautiful dresses, some absolutely stunning ones that had you worrying about the price. Natasha can certainly afford a lot more than you but glancing down at the tag you were surprised to see how reasonable things were. You took out a few jewel toned ones to try on that caught your eye.

“Y/N, what do you think of these?”

Peggy’s soft voice made you turn around. The first dress she held up was a satin one shoulder gown in black.

“Oh I like the design,” you said, pointing to the ruffles falling from the shoulder.

The next one she held up was a shimmering emerald dress whose classic mermaid style made you feel like you should be going to the Oscars instead of a wedding.

“Peggy, that’s too formal!” Wanda chimed in, huffing as she came over with more than a half dozen sparkly dresses.

She made room on the nearest rack to hang them, excitedly showing each one off to you. The first was a gorgeous sequined dress, rose gold sparkling in the light. It was undeniably beautiful but you had reservations. You were a guest at someone’s wedding and didn’t want to draw too much attention.

“This one is similar but you’ll see the difference,” she added, holding up another rose gold sequined dress, this one with a plunging V-neckline and a low open back.

“Wanda, that’s…” You stopped yourself from saying anything, grimacing uncomfortably at the dress that was so wrong.

“That looks like a slutty prom dress,” Natasha laughed, saying the thoughts you didn’t say aloud.

Wanda scrunched her face at Natasha before continuing with the next set of dresses. They were less eye catching as the others but still in the sparkly realm. You set aside a shimmering off the shoulder dress in turquoise that looked more like the ocean glittering in sunshine. The neckline was still a bit low but the back was more appropriately cut.

Natasha handed you one dress, a stunning red gown of flowing chiffon with a beautifully embellished bodice of lace and beading. The high neck of the dress complimented the tasteful open back design.

“Okay I’m getting overwhelmed. I have to start trying things on.”

With dresses in tow you made your way inside the fitting room and closed the curtain. Natasha sat across from Peggy and Wanda, checking work emails from her phone despite it being Sunday.

“Nat, did you get your wedding dress from here?” Wanda curiously wondered as her eyes roamed the store.

Her lips pursed as she took a deep breath. “I haven’t found a dress yet. I think we might have to push off the wedding again.”

“What was that?” you said, pushing open the curtains.

Peggy’s face lit up with a smile as you stepped out in a purple dress with lace detailing on the bodice. “You look beautiful!”

Your head turned towards the larger mirrors for a second to admire how you looked in the dress before you remembered the muffled conversation you heard through the curtain.

“Wait, Tash, did you say you’re pushing off the wedding again?”

She huffed loudly, leaning over and covering the frustration on her face with her hands. When she finally lifted her head you saw the desperation in her eyes. “I’m ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go to the courthouse.”

With Natasha’s ever increasing workload you’re quite surprised she hasn’t done this already. It doesn’t seem like she and Clint have made any progress since you’ve known them.

“Forget me,” she said, waving her hand as if to push the burdensome thoughts away. “That dress is pretty but there’s no wow factor.”

You looked in the mirror, realizing she was right. The next dress you put on was the red one Natasha picked out and that one definitely wowed but not in a good way. The bodice of the dress had an uneven cut that exposed part of your sides making you feel uncomfortable.

The one shoulder dress Peggy picked out was too tight but even if there was another size you didn’t like the satin. Wanda’s sparkly dress was a maybe but you weren’t completely sold on it yet. After changing in and out of a few more dresses you started to sweat and all you wanted to do was leave.

While hanging the dress you just stepped out of back up you saw there was one more left and your eyes lit up. You don’t remember grabbing this dress but it was meant to be from the moment you slipped it on.

It was a beautiful navy blue gown, with fluttering ruffles down the modest V-neck that also mirrored the back. Compared to some of the others this was a much simpler dress but there was something about it that felt right. It fit like a dream, flattering every part of you while still allowing for movement. Weddings mean dancing and the thought of dancing with Bucky made goosebumps prickle all over your skin.

As you opened the curtain you saw everyone’s jaws drop, their eyes lighting up as you stood in front of them.

“This! This is it!”

“You really think?” you asked, looking over your shoulder to see how it looks from behind.

Peggy nodded her head, “Definitely. It’s perfect.”

“Bucky’s going to love it,” Natasha added.

You rolled your eyes, missing the knowing look the three of them shared. “Guys, this isn’t for Bucky. I want to look good for myself.”

“And you do,” Wanda said, “But he’ll also appreciate how good your ass looks in that, damn!”

Rolling your eyes as they burst out laughing, you admired yourself in the dress a little longer knowing this is the one. You went back into the dressing room with Bucky on your mind. Sure, he might stare at you all night in this dress but the truth is it doesn’t mean much more than that.

Bucky was actively dating and the only reason you’re going with him to the wedding is so he doesn’t spend a weekend with someone he really doesn’t know. Panic washes over you as you worry about the near future. What if he meets someone he really gets along with before the wedding and he resents the fact that he asked you to go. What if he uninvites you? What if–

“Hey I found a really cute clutch to go with the dress,” Wanda said through the curtain.

You finished getting dressed, grabbing the dresses you didn’t want first. Opening the curtain you found Carina waiting beside Wanda, ready to take the dresses from you. You thanked her and took the dress you were buying, holding it up next to the clutch Wanda found. It was glittering gold with a metal trim on the opening.

“Oooh I love it.”

Carina was waiting silently at the register in anticipation of you bringing everything up to pay. As you took care of that Natasha said goodbye to Taneleer, kissing him on both cheeks. You thanked him as well before leaving and his mouth curved into the slightest smile.

Late lunch with the girls went by faster than you expected and you were happy to finally be home, hanging up the dress in your closet. You knew you had shoes that would pair well with it somewhere in your closet, a search meant for another day.

Before bed you decided to text Bucky, even though part of you was hesitant about it. You typed away quickly, sending the text and turning off your phone before he could respond. From the other side of the wall Bucky smiled when he saw a notification with your name.

You: Hope your suit game is good because I just bought my dress and it’s 🔥🔥

He couldn’t wait.

PART 17

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series

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omegatheunknown · 3 years

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AEW ALL OUT 2021

In which, not to get ahead of myself here, AEW puts on one of the best major wrestling shows in several years*, following the simple yet effective principle of giving the people what they want and sending everyone home happy and hungry for more.

- The incredibly 'Nitro' ending of the go-home Dynamite, which ran a little long on the 'heels beat everyone up and strut around like assholes almost too in desperate need of comeuppance' bit, short of garbage raining into the ring, did actually increase the heat for both promoted matches. Again, not rocket science, but executed perfectly. Catharsis was on the card, and catharsis went over several times Sunday. - Again, it's time to move on from the Casino theme, shuffling the deck and drawing suits really only detracted from the Battle Royale and seemingly always throws the production crew a curve. If they haven't hammered it by now, it's not going to happen. - Bit unhappy about the PAC/Andrade situation, but still over the moon with Andrade's promo style and Chavito being unhelpful at best.

*Pre-Card

Best Friends and Jurassic Express v The Hardy Family Office and The Hybrid 2 (**) - Not usually much to say about a loaded-up multiteam boondoggle, particularly when the show has yet to begin, but there were some moments worth sitting up to take notice -- there's a lot of talent in the ring, even if Jack Evans/Angelico aren't going to be more than mid-level mooks, little matchups with guys like Luchasaurus and Chuck Taylor are opportunities for innovative/weird spots. - Really this match exists to show-off Jungle Boy, play his theme song twice, and work him in to the aforementioned spots. I don't rightly know what Jungle Jack's ceiling is, but it sort of feels like he's plateauing, at least this version of himself. - Dan Lambert thing is interesting in that it doesn't seem to easily lead to something obvious... I mean who are Scorp and Ethan Page feuding with by proxy here, the concept of contemporary professional wrestling? Orange Cassidy and Kenny Omega?

*Main Card

Miro (C) v Eddie Kingston for the TNT Championship (***1/2) - 'Redeem Deez Nuts' T-shirts now available -- and made immediately redundant now that Miro has graciously redeemed Eddie's nuts. - Imagine looking at Miro, listening to Miro talk, and not really being able to figure out this guy is money. Also imagine panicking when he took a little while to find his groove in AEW. 'The Redeemer' is both entertaining and terrifying, and this match delivered heavily on the promise of two big fellas smacking together repeatedly. - Not only does Eddie's arsenal of power moves target Miro's neck, he may also be quite difficult to put in the full reclined camel clutch. Or he'd quite literally snap in half. It didn't come to that. - Weird heel turn by Bryce's attention span and the overall weirdness of the finish is all that kept this from being an excellent match, otherwise this was a tremendous curtain jerker and started off a dangerously fun run of pure adrenaline.

Jon Moxley v Satoshi Kojima (****) - The stakes were nebulous, the build was abrupt, yet this was a fantastic match and tremendous showcase for an underappreciated great who has been more or less just toiling for a bunch of years as a NJPW Dad. Same deal for Nagata, and I assume Tenzan is the same, Taka Michinoku even -- let's see it. - I have to assume the Cozy Lariat might have put Mox down, but Kojima otherwise played the hits (Koji Cutter, Piledriver, Brainbustaaaa) in a big way and Moxley once again proved he's become a very well-rounded wrestler who can match the intensity of just about any former IWGP champion. - More to the point-- KAZE NI NARE -- out of nowhere, too. Or out of nowhere to those not paying attention to the whereabouts of Minoru Suzuki (Right, he's just over here to fight Daniel Garcia and not Mox?), which I guess is to my own peril. Wow, though. Surprise Number 1- a complete surprise, and a welcome one. Let's have it.

Dr Britt Baker, DMD (C) v Kris Statlander for the AEW Women's Championship (****) - I love Kris and her best friends but she didn't have a prayer of dethroning Britt. She got one promo, several weeks ago, and though she did make a meal of Hayter and Rebel, the chase has been abrupt and not given much discussion, other than Mark Henry and whomever else acknowledging what is extremely evident -- Statlander is stronger than she looks, and she looks really strong. They've got her doing Cesaro-level 'modify your grip while holding your opponent's entire weight' nonsense, and it's amazing and scary. - Even with the reign of the good doctor not being credibly threatened, this was an excellent match that demonstrated the continued growth of the competitors in the women's division, even as it underlined that their storylines remain undercooked and perfunctory: Orange Cassidy whipping off his shades to urge Stat to get up was a beautiful moment. Britt's Panama Sunrise, also, too sweet. Statlander eating shit on her 451 and her pendulum moonsault was properly brutal, as were Britt's curb stomps. Really great match between these two. - Again, if they had bothered to write anything into this story, such as Kris' alien physiology making her immune to the lockjaw or something... actually, maybe that's a terrible idea. it's an idea. Undefeated challenger is defeated, on to the next for Dr Britt. Statlander and OC should tag against some of the boys.

The Young Bucks (C) v The Lucha Bros for the AEW World Tag Team Championship(*****+) - Can't not mention the insane entrance lined up for Fenix and Penta. It was bewildering, it was enchanting, it was aggressive, it was hype. It also reminded everybody how very badly we all wanted the Lucha Bros to win. The crowd has been setting new peaks with their volume since Punk showed up, but things were absolutely thunderous and ecstatic at the end of this match. Absolutely valid response. I yelled on the couch. - Nick's facial hair was a bigger tell that it was time for the Bucks to lose than anything else about this build. There's literally nowhere to go from there -- they've done the hair, the bandanas, the kicks, the animal print, the dangly earrings -- peak visual heel for this time and place. - Sincerely thought this was going to be too much of a full sprint spot-fest (the PWG-esque circle of trading blows is not really 'my thing') but even so they kept finding gears, and ramping and ramping and adding blood and brutality along the way. Even a bit of levity, with the tacked up sneaker, followed by the sincerity of Penta throwing himself in harm's way to protect his brother. Immense match, I think you'd have to go back to the Bucks vs the Addiction and MCMGs Ladder War to find a more thrilling tag team gimmick match. - If there's a single flaw to be found it's in the production not really settling on wide angles for simultaneous action at the start of the match. They figured it out. - Rey Fenix is the best luchador in the world.

Women's Casino Battle Royale (**1/2) - If nothing else, this really shows off that they now have a surplus of women's wrestlers who deserve time to hang in the ring. Unsurprisingly, the match picked right up when Thunder Rosa and then Jamie Hayter got to the ring, with additional props to Tay Conti and Jade Cargill, who was dumped rather unceremoniously given her general booking... - Okay, there was something else. Welcome to the rechristened Ruby Soho, who I've not seen a lot of outside of her extremely limited showcase in WWE, but she has so many friends in the back and in the industry and that's never for nothing, not in wrestling, anyway. Intrigued to see where she fits, and if the women ever get more than a match per show. - Touched on this in the preamble but this was the roughest part of the night for the home viewer, just weird decisions on cutting away from various entrances to show... nothing in particular happening. Also while the commitment to not-kayfabing the countdown clock is... admirable? It makes the pacing hinky. - Almost everyone who got new gear for tonight was looking like the white ranger -- Nyla, Swole, Bunny, someone I'm missing. Except Anna Jay, whose stars and glitter gear looked great.

MJF v Chris Jericho for the fate of Jericho's in-ring career (***) - MJF's unauthorized homage to Y2J's entrance: good. Fozzy's guitarist going off tempo with the instrumental Judas: weak, and would've been sad if this were the end for Jericho. Especially as the build has felt... muted, somehow. - Props to the commentary for continuing to feed the red herring of 'in AEW,' as a caveat to stipulation, it did feel like... a remote possibility that MJF would win. - Credit to Aubrey for calling this one down the middle and not putting the fix in for her friend Jericho, and I guess the Dusty finish will give MJF plenty to gripe about. - MJF wrestles with a pure heel style, holds, chops, blocks, and Jericho is fifty years old, so the level of wrestling on exhibition in these matches is well beside the point. It was solid to good, and I was fighting burn out from the first half of the card's level of excitement.

CM Punk v Darby Allin (***1/2) - There are a couple benefits of Darby as a dance partner, and it's certainly better than having to watch Punk return against like, QT Marshall or Shawn Spears. Darby does make everyone look slow, but he can also be tossed around, and this raises his profile even in defeat, obviously. That said, the stakes here are... meta, at best, in that we want to see the man look good and justify the hype. It's a weird thing to root for. He certainly does look good. (Tights? Tights!) - It's fun to theorize about actually booking an angle where Punk is rusty and needs to regain his prowess, and maybe he'll stumble, but maybe the most we get out of that angle is hitting the GTS a little close to the ropes so Darby falls right out of the ring, in what was, for me, the spot that justified this whole match. - Sting's proud step-dad aura is still a hell of a thing, I really liked the end of the match kudos all around. - Match was good, hard to hang my emotions on. I wasn't watching WWE when Punk was in WWE. Definitely feeding off the excitement of others a bit here, and he sure can talk. I'd like to see him cultivate a stable, certainly.

Paul Wight v QT Marshall (n/r) - ...popcorn match? QT Marshall is like the anti-Daniel Garcia in that while his prominence and presence is just as inexplicable, I don't want it to continue, and he doesn't justify it in the process. - Match was two minutes longer than it needed to be.

Kenny Omega (c) v Christian Cage for the AEW World Championship (****1/2) - Crowd was both burnt out and more or less waiting for the post-match angle. Which I get. it's hard to cruise to the main event and having seen all the different things we've already seen on this card, even a singular performer like Kenny Omega and a legend with whom he (surprisingly? fittingly?) has superb chemistry with in Christian Cage were up against it to deliver something memorable. - Context dependent, I can definitely see rating this below their Rampage match, especially since... I mean Christian isn't winning the AEW title off Kenny at this or probably any other event. - But! It was really good! It was very good! They really do match-up well, and Kenny's v-trigger has rarely looked more devastating than when it knocks Christian flat. Christian got cut open in a novel and initially worrying way, and Kenny followed up a botched moonsault with a harder version of the same move off a rail, but it was a really great match and it deserved more energy than was available.

Post-Show - Calling back and inverting the end of Dynamite, The Elite strut about the ring, slightly less stoked than they were on Wednesday, but with the Bucks smiling through the pain, and Jungle Boy once again subjected to violence for his misguided heroism, Kenny 'not much a promo' Omega lays down a killer line about nobody being fit to challenge him who isn't unavailable, already tired or dead. - The Undertaker ADAM COLE, BAY BAY as Surprise #3 was a minor stroke of brilliance, and a fun swerve because while it's exciting to see him, his appearance at this point in the narrative does nothing to solve the problem of The Elite beating up Christian and Jungle Boy. Unless he's still sore about his unsolved murder, which he isn't. Storytime with Adam Cole is back and it's beautiful. Also Jungle Boy died for this. - Okay. But. Just. Okay. CM Punk and Bryan Danielson are All Elite. They will hopefully tag together. Bryan will head to NJPW, almost definitely. Minoru Suzuki just walked in and started slugging on Mox. The Forbidden Door is wide open. Will Kenny Omega one day return to Wrestle Kingdom? There are so many possibilities and they are all very exciting. This was a phenomenal show and it didn't have Hangman Page, Cody Rhodes, FTR, Santana and Ortiz, PAC, Andrade, Sammy Guevara, Team Taz, and the rest.

- Wrestling is good, actually. Imagine watching like five hours of wrestling and loving wrestling at the end of it.

*What competes- WK11, Dominion 2018, 2019, DoN 2019, 2021.. All-In, probably. Wrestlemania 30. A few Takeovers. Kris Wolf's retirement show...

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