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aza-writes · 2 years

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Blood Red : Chapter 2

Rich, Red, Magnificent

TW: A LOT of blood talk and kinda pervert-ish and sex worker-ish talk.

New York : 2016

It's stuffy in here. There are so many people moving back and forth, running from place to place. I always heard stories about New York, the city that never sleeps. No wonder they call it that, it's 3 am and people are running around this airport like it's about to explode. I've learned not to trust people so I grip my suitcase and my passport a little tighter.

Is the passport real? No.

Does it look real? Hell yes.

The reason the passport is fake: technically I don't exist. According to Russia Aleksandra Nikitina died in 2008 with her parents, but Alice Solovyova is alive and well, she's also an American citizen.

I get shuffled into a line with a woman checking passports. I have been waiting for about half an hour now standing next to a kid who doesn't know how to cover when he sneezes. Gross. I know why Dreykov trained women, boys are disgusting.

Dreykov.

The thought of Dreykov makes my heart feel heavy, I start to feel sad but I shake my head at the thought. Sadness is weakness, he taught me that. I focus on replacing this sad feeling with anger, another thing Dreykov taught me. It isn't hard to replace my sadness since I have someone to be angry at; Natasha Romanov. She took Dreykov from me.

By no means was Dreykov a saint, but he had a soft spot for me. Natasha gave him a bad reputation. If you obeyed him, he rewarded you. We only hurt those who deserved it. I never deserved to be harmed so I was never harmed. It was that simple. I was his pride, the KGB's best fighter. I was the first to be chosen for the hardest missions. There was a joke going around that I should be called the Golden Widow.

Being Dreykov's favorite came with its perks. I was allowed to go to fancy galas, yes it was to be a bodyguard but I got to wear dresses and makeup without being undercover. I was allowed one nice meal and a glass of champagne. I was spoiled compared to the other girls, but I never knew if they liked me or not. We didn't have true emotions besides anger and aggression. We could sometimes feel sadness but we wouldn't tell anyone, or we would be punished. There were two types of punishment: torture and death. Of course, there were different levels of torture but sometimes people begged for death after what they went through. With my punishment- no, don't think about it. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Repress and forget.

"Next!"

The lady's voice breaks me out of my thoughts. I didn't realize I'd been staring off for 5 minutes. I stayed silent as I handed her my passport and a fake ID. The lady looked at my papers and then back to my face.

"Russia?"

"Yes ma'am." I did my best American accent, which was very good if I do say so myself.

"You're a fan of the cold huh?" Her small talk is absolutely pathetic. She's just here to wear out the clock like everyone else here. Americans are supposed to be nice so I put on a fake smile and try to not roll my eyes.

"Yes ma'am, I have family there." I smile trying to look innocent. God knows that my ledger doesn't just have blood in it, it's drowning with blood, smothered. Innocent is the complete opposite of me, in every sense of the word.

The lady hands me my papers back after stamping my passport. "Welcome back to the United States Ms. Solovyova." I smile and grab my papers. I can't get out of this hell while they call an airport fast enough.

• • • • • •

The taxi driver is my kind of guy; no talking, no bullshit. I have no place to go to, but fake it until you make it right? That should be America's motto. Everyone here is fake, it's disgusting and almost poetic. It reminds me of the cartoon movie with the superhero family. If everyone is fake, then no one is.

I look in my backpack to see how much money I have. $1,000. That's it. I have $1,000 to live off of in one of the most expensive cities in America. I need a way to make money as a female who stopped attending school years ago and has no skills other than ballet and how to kill someone without leaving evidence. Totally normal things for a 16-year-old to know how to do.

Finally, the driver stops at a run-down motel in Hell's Kitchen, the cheapest place I could find. I quickly grab my bags and toss the man his money, he's acting like a creep. Right on cue, I hear gunshots. I make a mental note of my surroundings before walking into the bacteria playground of a motel, my gun is tucked into the back of my jeans. After having another mind-numbing conversation with the mouth breather at the front desk I finally get to rest. After being awake for 72 hours, I get to lie on a bed. I don't know what possessed me but I giggled when I laid down on it. It has some sort of stuffing to it, making it automatically ten times better than I was predicting. I take out a pair of handcuffs and after fastening it to the bed, I clip the other side to my wrist. I remove the pillow from the bed and start to drift off to sleep. Old habits die hard.

• • • • • •

It's dark. I try to open my eyes but they feel like they're swollen shut. There's blood on me, some mine, some not. Footsteps are getting louder and louder until they stop. I can feel the person's body next to me, their breath against my face.

"Попробуй еще раз, где мальчик?"

(Try again, where is the boy?)

My breath gets caught in my throat.

"Я не знаю. Я так и не нашел его."

(I don't know. I never found him)

A sigh comes from the guard's lips. "Я верил в тебя." (I had faith in you). I hear him take his belt. "Подумай еще раз, Сложнее." (think again, harder).

I can hear the belt move back and swooshing towards my face, I try to brace for impact and-

My eyes open so fast that the room appears blurry. When they finally adjust I look at the alarm clock. 5:46 am. I groan. Only one and a half hours of sleep. I unlock myself from the handcuff going to grab the water bottle out of my bag when I hear the most obnoxious sound coming from the room next to me, a baby crying.

My water bottle is warm. I'm trying to think if it's worth it to go to the ice machine but that baby's whaling is distracting me.

Deep breaths, happy thoughts, happy things.

Okay, just go get ice and- OH FOR FUCK SAKE WILL THAT BABY SHUT UP

I shake my head, I'm over-tired and I need to sleep. I decided to walk outside to get some fresh air. As I step outside the sound of a baby crying is replaced with city sounds, mostly traffic. I don't pay too much attention to the sounds until I hear footsteps, not coming toward me, but there's a voice attached to them. It's foreign, but nothing exotic. Most likely Northwestern Europe. Most likely on the phone. He's speaking... mandarin? Definitely mandarin. I take a small peak around the corner and notice his suit. Expensive fabric, another warning sign. Why the fuck is there a European guy speaking mandarin outside of the motel I just so happen to be staying at? That doesn't add up.

I pull the gun out from the back of my jeans and slowly walk toward the voice. The sounds get momentarily distant, meaning his back is towards me. I take this opportunity to swing my legs up and around his neck, pulling him to the ground while knocking his phone out of his hand in the process. I wrap one arm around his neck, my legs pinning him close to my body so he can't move and I point my gun at his temple. "你为谁工作?" (Who do you work for?).

"你他妈的不关你的事" (none of your business)

"Fucking answer me. Or I swear I'll blow your brains out."

"Kinky." He smirks. What a pervert.

While he's giggling about his brilliant, note the sarcasm, joke I bring his face into my knee. "I'm a minor jackass."

"Makes you worth more amongst buyers." He then brings a hand up to grab my gun. I need information so don't shoot him, but I hit him with the end. He gets up and tries to grab me, he's starting to really piss me off now.

We went back and forth a bit then bam, I get him in the nose. Blood. Rich, red, magnificent blood. My throat gets dry, my eyes start to slowly dilate.

I wanna make him bleed more.

I aim for the mouth, if I knock out a tooth it'll poor from his lips. The world around him gets darker, and the man himself turns black and white. I can only see blood, the bright red is intoxicating to look at. I keep kicking and attacking with no end. I get his mouth, then his ear, and finally I got to knock him to the ground. I climb on top of him punishing him over and over and over and over again. I bet no one could recognize him, not even his mother. I smile slightly, no it's a full-on giddy grin. He's gasping for air, there's blood all over his face, my hands, and a bit on my face. I brush the hair out of his face. "Тсс, там, я буду милосерден" (Shhhh, there there, I'll be merciful). He tries to get out some words, but I grab the back of his head with one hand, then...

Snap.

"Oops." I spit on him. "Мать-ублюдок." (Mother fucker)

I look down and see all the blood. I caused that. My goofy smile returns. The smell is overwhelming my senses. The feeling on my fingers is better than silk. I haven't allowed myself to kill like this in so long that I'm almost too caught up to hear the car pull up behind me.

Keyword: almost

I look up to see two men, clearly pissed at me. I grab my gun with my right hand aiming it at one of the two men. The bad thing about going undercover is I'm limited to the guns I can carry at my disposal. I raise my left hand too, I have my taser bracelet on.

The man on my left pulled out his gun, As I'm about to fire my gun I feel a soft sting in my neck. Not this again. I shoot my taser at the man to my right, at least he drops. I turn and fire it at two other men: both drop. My throat becomes dry in a new way, not the good kind. I drop to the ground. I start to cough. The men are talking, I think in English, but my mind is too fuzzy to comprehend anything. What I can comprehend are four blurry bodies. Oh fuck. I could have never taken seven men alone. T-that was... that was what was was good about the Widow p-p-p-program, we were never alone.

• • • • • •

Masterlists

#matt murdock x oc #wilson fisk #daredevil x oc #matt murdock #the defenders #the punisher x oc #matt murdock x reader #natasha romanoff #the punisher #daredevil #frank castle x oc #foggy nelson #blood red #frank castle #yelena belova

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rendevousz · 3 years

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sick

avengers x gn!teen!reader

platonic!peter parker x reader

requested by @sunflowerbecca : "hey! a request with the whole teen avengers thing you got gotten on haha, anyways something where the reader gets hurt or faints etc etc and then the rest of the avengers are all worried and frantic as they care for them"

summary: there was a consequence of going on a mission while you were sick

warnings: mentions of throwing up and a tiny fight with bestfriend!peter, avengers babying you as usual

word count: roughly 5k words of utter bullshit me thinks but pls do give this a read LMAO

notes: i'm sorry this took longer to write i was unexpectedly busy on the weekends but here i am i hope you enjoy this <3

"stark, you sure about this?"

"of course i'm sure, capsicle. the kids have been bugging us to let them go on a mission together. i know it's because they just want to mess around without being scolded but this is the easiest mission we've ever gotten since the avengers. besides, they've been pretty good lately so i think they deserve it. don't you guys think so?"

his question was met with approving looks all over the room, except from steve. the whole team except the teens —you and peter— were having a meeting about a simple mission that was supposed to happen that night. you and peter weren't in the meeting because you two were still at school.

it had been months since you and peter started asking the team to let you guys go on missions alone without "adult supervision". it was true that you guys wanted that just so you could do missions without feeling like you were being babysat but it was also because you guys thought that you weren't kids anymore; you could handle simple missions.

"c'mon cap, don't you want to see their face light up when we tell them they can go on this mission together, without us?" clint urged. he knew steve loved the kids, especially you, and he especially loved seeing the way your eyes would light up first before you whole face did.

"okay, fine. but if anything happens to them, you guys are to blame for."

–

school had just finished and you were walking back to the tower with peter. you've been having a killer headache all day and you felt nauseous. you even went to the washroom to throw up twice today. of course you didn't tell peter because he was that type of overprotective best friend who would make you get home if you sneezed more than three times that day. all you wanted to do today was get home quick so you could sleep the sickness away.

yes, you knew you were sick. but you didn't want to tell anyone because like peter, the whole team was overprotective over you and they usually did too much when you were sick. so you avoided that by just acting like you were okay. that was going well so far since all you had to do when you get home was go to your room and tell them you stayed up late last night and needed to catch up on sleep.

of course that didn't go well.

"y/n!" you groaned when peter entered your room uninvited, immediately jumping onto your bed. "yes, pete?" you croaked. his joyful expression turned into a frown when he heard you. "what's wrong? are you okay?"

"yes, pete, i'm okay. just super sleep deprived." you lied, cringing when you felt your head throb once again. "oh.. did you..did you want to sleep? am i interrupting?" he asked, feeling bad. "no, no. it's fine, what did you want?"

"i just came to tell you that mr stark and the team are finally gonna let us go on a mission without them! there's one tonight and they're letting us go alone!" he announced excitedly. you couldn't help the small smile that appeared on your lips when he said that. his happiness was just so contagious.

"but if you wanna sleep then i'll just go with any one of them, i guess," he shrugged his shoulders with a nonchalant face but you knew he was internally begging you to come with. after all, you guys have been asking for this for the longest time.

you look at his hopeful face —one that he thought he was concealing very well— and sighed, flashing him a small smile. "fine, it's friday anyways so there's no school tomorrow. but you're buying me food tomorrow for postponing my catchup on beauty sleep," that is, if you can stomach the food, considering how you've thrown up almost anything you had for the past two days.

the thought of this mission going awry because of you being sick was almost immediately forgotten when you saw the huge smile on peter's face. he pulled you into a tight hug before letting go to jump on your bed. "we're finally gonna go on a mission alone!"

you laugh at his excitement though you wished he could lower down his volume because it was making your head hurt.

later that evening, you were in your room, sitting on the bed after having just finished putting on your suit when a knock was heard. after telling the person to come in, you met eyes with a certain blond haired super-soldier.

"hey, y/n." he greets, sitting down beside you. "hey, steve," you responded with a weak voice. he turned to you with a frown and you knew what was coming. "i'm fine, steve. i already had this conversation with pete. i just need sleep but i can get that after this mission. i'm not gonna be fine though if you wake me up at the crack of dawn to train when you know i just had a late night mission." you sassed, causing him to chuckle.

"okay, fine. i'm just worried about you two. you sure you're gonna be fine? don't need me to come along?" he asked, concern written all over his face.

"yes, steve. pete's been wanting a mission without you old folks for the longest time and i'm not gonna disappoint him by making you come along. we'll be fine, stevie. we're not little kids, we're avengers. we can handle finding a random chip in an abandoned building," you reasoned with him.

"it's not a rando— you know what? just be back home safe, okay kiddo?" he ruffled your hair, earning him a playful glare from you.

the swing trip to the mission location had you even more nauseous than you were earlier today and earlier today was worse than yesterday when the symptoms of your fever all started. you almost let go of peter because your body felt weak and now you were getting an earful from the boy.

"y/n, what were you thinking?! you could've gotten hurt!" he scolded you. you only looked down in guilt, biting the inside of your cheeks. "can we not do this now? let's talk about this back at the tower tomorrow," you waved him off, already beginning to feel the pounding headache getting worse. you started to walk ahead but then he gripped your upper arm, effectively halting you in your steps.

"y/n, if i hadn't grabbed onto you tighter the last minute, you could've plummeted 100 feet down to your death! did you know how scared i was?" his voice cracked and you immediately felt bad.

"you know you need to hold on too when i'm swinging us both! why'd you do that?" he yelled at you and you had to press onto your temple because of the headache that was steadily getting worse.

"look, pete, i'm really sorry about that, okay? that was unintentional but if you're gonna berate me over that, can you do that back at the tower?" you sighed, trying to shrug his grip off your arm but he kept it.

"you don't know the true weight of your actions, do you? you could've died, y/n! how do you think i would feel? being the reason my best friend died? having to go on with life without you? i can't lose you, y/n!" at this point, you could tell he was crying under his mask.

you felt bad. you knew you shouldn't have agreed to go on this mission knowing that you had been sick for the past two days. but you couldn't have let the opportunity pass. you couldn't bear to see peter disappointed after waiting for this moment for the longest time ever. but standing here, looking down as peter yelled at you while crying, you were starting to think that it was better to just see his disappointment. anything was better than seeing your best friend cry.

"pete, i truly am sorry. i love you and i would never leave you. but can we please get this mission over and done with so we can get back to the tower as soon as possible? we'll talk about this later," you told him and you immediately felt him let go of your arm.

"okay, fine! since you wanna get the mission done so bad, let's do it! i'll take the east side of the building and you'll take west. we'll split up so can find the goddamn chip quicker. that's what you want right?" and before you could say anything, the boy was already out of your sight.

you tried to keep your tears at bay but when that was the first huge argument you had with your best friend, it was kind of an impossible task.

so with your weak muscles and a breakdown that caused your headache to get even worse, you slowly trudged the west side of the building, looking for that stupid chip that the team wanted you to find.

you were beginning to think that the only reason the team sent you both here was because to find a tiny little chip in a huge abandoned building was like finding a needle in a haystack; definitely not something adults like them could bear to do.

but it obviously wouldn't have mattered to you and peter since you guys could do it peacefully without being pestered every two minutes about your whereabouts during missions. it obviously wouldn't have mattered to you and peter because if that argument hadn't broken out, you two would be enjoying each others company as you looked for the chip together. you could've been singing and joking around like you two wanted to. but of course that couldn't happen because of you.

you stopped in your tracks when a particularly harsh wave of migraine hit you, causing you to lean against the wall. your vision blurred as you tried hard to clear it but it wouldn't. your throat was dry and it made you think; when was the last time you drank water? you barely had energy in you from skipping meals due to your inability to stomach them.

now you were actually regretting coming on this mission. the last thing you saw was the dirty walls decorated with spray painted graffiti.

"oh my god, is this it? KAREN, is this it?" peter asked his built in AI. "yes, peter, this chip matches the picture that mr stark sent you."

"yes!" he cheered, grabbing the chip and storing it safely. "this mission probably would've been a lot more fun if y/n and i weren't fighting. we would've had so much fun. these walls had countless of stuff we could've laughed and joked about." the boy sighed before pressing a finger to his comms.

"hey i uh, i found the chip. where are you? we can go now." he said, waiting for you to respond. but you didn't. "c'mon, y/n, it's been two hours. you can't still be giving me the silent treatment, are you?"

silence.

"look, i'm sorry for lashing out on you but like you said, let's settle this at the tower. tell me where you are. i'll come get you and we can swing back as soon as possible."

silence.

"goddamnit, y/n! answer me!" he huffed out in annoyance. and when he was met with silence once again, he decided to have KAREN do a scan.

"y/n is at the exact same spot you landed on two hours ago." KAREN showed him the scan of the building and highlighted where you guys landed on two hours ago. he felt his heart race when you seemed to be lying on the ground, motionless.

"what's wrong with them, KAREN? why is y/n lying on the floor?" he asked in concern as he sped up to where you were. "y/n seems to have lost consciousness. according to FRIDAY, they have been showing symptoms of a high fever since yesterday."

peter cursed as he ran towards you when he saw you from afar. how could he have not noticed that you were sick? and it wasn't a simple cold but a high fever. now he was the one who felt bad. he should've suspected it from how different you had been acting since yesterday. that must've also been the reason you couldn't hold on to him properly.

he immediately crouched down to you when he reached you, examining your body for any external injuries. he cringed when he saw dried blood on the side of your forehead. you must've scraped it upon impact on the rough concrete.

"how long have they been out?" he asked KAREN as he picked you up. he proceeded to web you onto his body as extra precaution in case he accidentally let go while he swung. "approximately 2 hours, peter. right after you stormed away angrily."

"okay, KAREN, there's no need to make me feel bad. can you call mr stark?" peter asks the AI as he frantically swings you both back to the tower.

"kid? what's up? did you find the chip?" peter could hear the background rock music being lowered down and from the metal on metal clanking, he could tell tony was in his lab.

"i did but can you, uh, please get medic ready?" he was breathless as he kept swinging from building to building all while holding onto your unconscious body. immediately the metal tinkering sounds as well as the music completely stopped.

"what happened, kid? are you alright?"

"i'm okay, mr stark. it's y/n. they fainted." he told the man. "fainted?" the man exclaimed. "what happened? how long were they out?" he urged the boy and peter could hear that he was walking quickly and he assumed it was to get the medic team ready and to inform them of the situation.

"2 hours," he admitted quietly as he landed on the tower's hangar. "i'm here. i'm bringing them down now." he ran down towards the hospital wing with you in his arms.

once he reached down, he was met with the team waiting, worry etched onto their faces. wanda was the first to notice him and peter saw that her eyes were teary. before he could say anything though, the medic team appeared and proceeded to cut off his webs wrapping you to him. they immediately put you onto the stretcher and they wheeled you into the room, peter's gaze lingering on your unconscious self once he took off his mask.

"what happened out there, kid?" sam asked softly when peter slid down against the wall, staring expressionlessly at the wall across of him. "peter."

"we had a fight, okay!" he let out, taking the team by surprise because he was always such a calm and patient boy. they had never seen him this angry or upset since they first met him.

"we were swinging and their grip on me loosened so i got mad at them. but they kept pushing the matter aside like it wasn't a big deal, like it wasn't a life or death situation so i lashed out and decided that we should split up to look for the stupid chip since they wanted to get back to the tower so bad." he explained, eyes red as he had been crying a lot that night.

"i tried apologising like ten minutes after but y/n didn't respond so i assumed they were giving me the silent treatment but i found them unconscious two hours later. i'm so sorry," he apologised, breaking down as he put his face in between his knees to avoid looking at the team. they were probably mad at him for letting this happen to you.

"kid, why are you apologising? it's not your fault,"

he slowly lifted his head up, to meet the kind smiles of the team. "because the only reason y/n probably went on this mission was because they knew how much i wanted this. they put their own well-being aside just to make me happy and all i did was lash out at them."

"how were you supposed to know y/n had a high fever? we all didn't know either. it's not like we spend every waking hour with th—" clint was immediately cut off when nat nudged him with her elbow. peter had an unamused expression on his face. everyone knew you and peter were practically attached at the hip, always having training, and not to mention, school together. you two even spent your free time together.

"what clint means," nat glared at the archer. "is that it doesn't matter how much time or how little time we spend with y/n. that kid is stubborn as a bull. they could literally have been shot and we wouldn't know until we actually see the wound. my point is, y/n's the type that doesn't want to worry us. and you're their best friend, they knew how much you wanted this mission so that's probably why they didn't tell you. you can't blame yourself for this, peter."

"i know but they did this for me and i got mad at them. they're a much better friend to me than i am to them." peter dropped his head back down between his knees.

before any of them could respond, doctor cho approached them. "as you all know, they have a high fever. i suggest you all come visit tomorrow because they most probably won't wake until then."

"okay, will do. thank you, doc." the doctor smiled before excusing herself. peter then got up to go back to his room to wash up after handing tony the chip.

tony could only sigh when he looked at the boy's back that was growing smaller as he walked farther away.

the next day, you woke up with a terrible headache but you had gotten used to it from the past two mornings.

"good, you're awake. how do you feel?"

you squinted to get used to the bright lighting and your gaze settled on the female doctor by your bed with a clipboard. "like shit." you croaked out. she chuckled. "that's expected. your fever has calmed down now, do you feel anything else?"

"this headache makes me want to rip my head out and i feel weak." she nodded, jotting down on her clipboard. "okay. that's all i needed to know. you should come to us if you're ever unwell, y/n." you gave her a guilty smile before nodding.

"there's a glass of water on the table if you want. the team wants to see you so i'll send them in?" you nodded and she left to bring them in. you looked at the bedside table, seeing the glass of water she mentioned and only now you realised how dry your throat had been. how you managed to verbally respond to doctor cho, you didn't know.

you slowly reached out for it, struggling because your whole body felt weak. "y/n! stay in bed, i'll get it for you." you heard a stern voice scold and you immediately fell limp on the bed.

before you knew it, steve was already by your side with the glass of water. he held your face in one hand while the other held the glass near your mouth. you smiled gratefully and took your time drinking the water, having been dehydrated before you passed out.

"you're still burning up," he noted, settling down on the chair beside you. the rest sat down too and you couldn't be bothered to ask how the heck were there so many chairs in the room. "how are you feeling, y/n/n?" bruce asked, sitting down across steve.

"like shit." you repeated your answer to doctor cho. before steve could open his mouth to tell you to watch your language, you turned to him with a bored look and a raised eyebrow, causing him to close his mouth immediately. boy, were you scary when you weren't about to take anyone's shit.

"why didn't you tell us you were sick, bubs?" wanda pouted, fixing your hair that you were sure looked like a bird's nest at the moment.

"i didn't want to worry you guys. you're adults who have much more important things to worry about. a kid throwing up and experiencing headaches shouldn't be your priority." you admitted, subconsciously playing with nat's fingers. she had gotten used to you doing that when you were nervous or overwhelmed so she let you.

"what are you talking about, y/n?" she held onto your hand, stoping your movements. "anything related to your safety and well-being is a priority to us. you had us worried sick last night, bub." she looked down at you with soft eyes, releasing her grip on your hands so you could continue playing with her fingers.

"yes, you worried us lots, y/n. wanda would not stop crying last night when she heard what happened." vision said, prompting a smack from said woman and a hushed 'vis!'.

"i'm sorry, guys. i initially was just going to stay in my room until i got better but when peter told me about the mission, i couldn't bear to say no to him. he was so happy about it and i didn't want to disappoint him. and i thought i could take it because it literally was the simplest mission ever. but the breakdown i had after our argument was physically draining and i guess i couldn't take it. i'm sorry. god, i only didn't want to disappoint peter but now i've disappointed you guys too." you bit the inside of your cheek to control your emotions, not wanting to seem even weaker in front of these adult superheroes.

"you didn't disappoint us, y/n/n," bucky started. "you've done so well, you've made us proud and you keep making us proud. we just wish you would tell us when you're sick or you just need someone. you don't have to keep everything to yourself. what are we here for? we love you and we're willing to do anything for you. you're our baby." he ruffled your hair and you give him a tired smile. "i'll keep that in mind."

"do you want anything to eat?" sam asked and you paused, trying to figure out whether you would be able to stomach some food or not. "you know what? i'm gonna go and make you some porridge right now. don't move." he told you, as if you could move with these overprotective heroes surrounding your bed.

almost immediately after, wanda got up too. "i'm going to make sure he doesn't burn the kitchen down." she said, leaving the room after a small peck to the side of your head. vision then left too after wishing you a speedy recovery. only bucky, steve, natasha and bruce were left.

"y/n, you know you can come to us if you're sick, right? i know you and you probably think you're troubling doctor cho if you go to her despite it being her job. but we're family, you can come to us anytime. you always help me when with 'the other guy' and you help everyone with basically anything they could possibly need so why wouldn't we do the same for you? you out of everyone in this tower deserves the most." your eyes watered at his speech. you pouted and looked at him with your doe eyes, making the rest of the team internally coo at how adorable you looked.

"bruce," you lower lip jutted out even more as you opened your arms for a hug which he happily accepted. "hey where's clint, tony and pete?" you asked them once you let go of bruce.

"clint went out to get your favourite smoothie from that place you always talk about even though i told him already that you probably don't want it since you're sick." natasha explained. "aw, i think i'm gonna drink it solely because clint made an effort to get it for me."

"you're too nice, bub. but expect it in an hour or so because i know for sure that idiot somehow got himself lost trying to find that shop." you chuckled at this, leaning back against your propped up pillow. "what about tony and pete?"

"peter feels really bad about this whole situation so tony is trying to cheer him up. wait," steve stopped mid-explanation, turning to the rest. "stark told us to get him when y/n's up..." he trailed off and bucky's eyes widened. "he's gonna kill us for him not being the first person y/n sees when they wake up."

"FRIDAY, inform stark that y/n is awake."

"oh yeah he has an AI why couldn't he just tell the AI to inform him instead of us forgetful humans?" bucky questioned rhetorically and before they knew it, they heard frantic screaming and thudding of footsteps before the door was open.

"my baby! you're awake!" was the first thing you heard when the door slammed open. tony rushed in, pushing bruce away as he immediately pulled you into a hug. "you're still burning up, cupcake. have you had anything to eat yet? drank any water yet? here have some water," he grabbed the glass of water steve helped you drink earlier and did exactly what steve did. you had no choice but to drink.

"sam's making them porridge," nat told tony and he turned to her with an incredulous look. "wanda's helping." she added and he sighed out in relief before turning back to you.

"cupcake, you had us all worried last night. please don't ever do that again, okay?" he said, gently caressing your cheek. you gave him an awkward smile. "where's peter?"

"he's taking a swing. he says it helps clear his mind," tony said. "how are you doing here? nice room? comfy bed?" he pointed to the bed you were on.

"i'd much rather be in my own room, on my own bed." and without a warning, steve already had you in his arms while tony went to go tell doctor cho that you were being moved. the blond super-soldier started walking while natasha walked closely behind, dragging your IV drip along so it doesn't get ripped out of your arm.

when you reached your room, you were gently put down on your bed and steve fixed your blanket so it was covering you. "comfy?" he asked and you nodded with a big smile.

"i have to finish some stuff up down the lab," bruce said and you nodded at him with a pout. "i'll come back sometime later, though. you better be resting up all day." he warned jokingly. he ruffled your hair, planting a kiss on your forehead before leaving your room.

"can you tell pete that i want to see him when he comes back?" you told tony and he immediately sent out a text to your best friend.

after about an hour of just steve, nat and tony entertaining you, sam came back with wanda with the porridge and tony insisted that he feed you or you he wasn't going to let you see peter.

"alright, bub, i think you should really get some rest now. you can barely keep your eyes open," nat says, already getting up with your empty bowl of porridge. "we'll tell spiderboy you're asleep."

"okay," you mumbled, eyes already fluttering shut. you felt every single one of them give you a forehead kiss and then you were out like light.

when you woke up later that day, you felt much better than you did the last time you woke up. you decided that you now had enough energy to take a quick shower so you did. once you were done, you dried your hair while humming to a random song before the door opening interrupted you.

your eyes met with peter's guilty ones. "h–hey, you're awake," he stated and you nodded with a small smile, sitting on your bed and peter doing the same.

"look, y/n/n, i'm really sorry about what happened. i shouldn't have lashed out on you witho—"

"pete," you cut him off. "don't apologise. i'd be mad too if you did something as stupid as that." you reasoned. "yeah but it's not like you did it on purpose! you had a valid reason and i got mad at you for it." he spoke in frustration.

"dude, stop. i'm the one who's supposed to be sorry. i should've just told you i was sick. but i didn't want to upset you because you've been waiting for this for the longest time. but i ruined it for you. i'm sorry, pete." you rested your head on his shoulder and he rested his on top of yours.

"i wanna say that i'm the one at fault but then this conversation won't end until like next week so let's just say we're both at fault, yeah? you need to start telling people what's happening with you and i need to be better at reading you." he said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into a hug. you hugged him back. "okay."

the door then opened, revealing bucky with his stupid shit-eating grin and you knew what was coming. you let go of peter and immediately you were lifted off the bed and over bucky's shoulders as he excitedly chanted about team movie night.

the night was spent watching a movie with the team you considered your family and them pampering you even more than they usually did (which, frankly, was still too much) since you were sick.

and right when the movie ended and everyone was preparing to head in, the door to the common room slammed open and a disheveled clint entered, holding a single cup of smoothie.

"got your smoothie, y/n/n!"

#avengers #avengers x teen!reader #peter parker x reader #tony stark x teen!reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #bruce banner x teen!reader #clint barton x teen!reader #sam wilson x teen!reader #wanda maximoff x teen!reader #avengers fluff #avengers x reader #fluff #bucky barnes x teen!reader

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wheelsup · 3 years

Text

the taming of the shrew | two

if i be waspish, best beware my sting

after some setbacks, penelope is willing to do anything to get you back on board. but has spencer already ruined things?

A/N: hello! im so sorry that this posting schedule is super inconsistent. the more i thought about this chapter, the less i liked the more technical aspects of it. but! i hope you enjoy to plot aspect of it nonetheless <3 thanks for reading!

category: fluff, slow burn series, spencer reid x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

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Since that phone call with Penelope, she’d been over nearly every night for a week with plates of treats and onslaughts of apologies. Each time she came knocking, you told her there was no amount of persuasion that could change your mind. And yet the following night, she’d be there, a new type of pastry in hand and a new set of reasons why Spencer was worth the trouble.

First, she brought blueberry muffins and reasoned that deep below that prickly exterior, he really was everything she promised –– sweet and caring. But that must be deep, deep down. Like, The Lost City of Atlantis, deep down, because you didn’t expect it to surface any time soon.

Then, she brought fudge brownies and explained that his behavior wasn’t personal –– he was getting snippy with everyone lately. And while you maintained that anybody would have a hard time getting along with Spencer, you were absolutely positive that it was now impossible for you.

Quite frankly, it wasn’t just Spencer who was unwilling to play nice. You hated him. More than you’ve ever hated a stranger.

You wished him a lifetime riddled with minor inconveniences that would drive him to the edge of insanity. You wanted him to miss all his trains by just a quarter of a minute; close enough so that he could see it leave the platform, knowing he almost made it on. You wanted him to constantly feel like he was about to sneeze. You wanted his socks to be perpetually wet, and if he should happen to put on a dry pair? You hoped he stepped in a puddle.

That was all you could think about as you laid out on your couch, munching on one of Penelope’s lemon bars while she paced around your apartment. She kept going on and on advertising Spencer to you. As annoying as it was, she was also saving you a ton on groceries that week.

For the most part, you filtered her out. Not a single word that came out of her mouth was believable anymore, especially not when she was talking about Spencer. Despite what Penelope thought of him, you saw in him what she refused to accept.

As her speech came to a close, she looked at you like she expected a response to dignify her prattling.

“Give it a rest, Penelope. He’s a lost cause,” you laughed dryly. “He doesn’t need –– nor does he want –– anyone in his life.” At the very least, he definitely didn’t want you.

“Yes, that’s the problem!” If you’d been listening to her, you would’ve heard her saying the same thing. “He doesn’t want to date!”

Your head just about exploded when she said that.

There had been countless, fruitless conversations about this, and all along she saw the gaping hole in her supposedly airtight plan?

“If he doesn’t want to DATE, then WHAT was the point of this?!” Your fingers pressed the bridge of your nose; you suddenly felt a headache coming on. Funny how it always happened around the time of day that Penelope came to visit.

Penelope stopped pacing. She stalked over to your couch, picked your legs up by your ankle, and moved them to make space for herself. You begrudgingly sat upright as she took her place beside you.

“Because he’s not himself anymore. He’s not open like he used to be. Not to the people who care about him the most, and certainly not to the world.”

Penelope toyed with the hem of her dress, distracting herself from her quivering lip before pressing on, “Spencer Reid has always wanted love. And it’s not right that he no longer believes he can have it.”

You hadn’t seen Penelope look so desperate until now. It was concerning. Because what could make her look so hopeless? What could make Spencer so hopeless?

“Penelope, I don’t know what’s wrong with your little friend, but… there’s a lot more bubbling inside him than you’re letting on.”

She chewed up the insides of her cheeks, wincing to herself at your incredibly accurate claim.

“You are hiding something, aren’t you?” You narrowed your eyes on her. You were no detective, or whatever exactly her team did, but she was just awful at concealing her thoughts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she murmured.

She could already feel herself about to give it away and doubled down her mental defenses against it. Focusing extra hard on keeping Spencer’s privacy intact. If only you knew her track record with secrets, you’d be proud of her for staying quiet this long.

“What isn’t your story?”

“That his girlfriend died last year.”

She spilled it before she even realized what she was saying. You’d just asked so nonchalantly that she forgot she was talking aloud. Penelope turned purple, terrified now that the whole truth was out there.

You couldn’t even take satisfaction in the fact that your trick worked. You were just as mortified as Penelope, and if you weren’t already sitting down, you knew you’d need to. You assumed there was something deeper going on with him, you didn’t think it was a dead girlfriend. That was some Nicholas Sparks shit.

“He pretends like he’s fine but I know he’s not. And if he found a way to move on, maybe he’d start feeling as okay as he claims to be,” she sniffled before snot could run from her nose, tears lining the rims of her eyes. “I know I should’ve given you the full picture, but I didn’t think you’d go for it if you knew…”

You were too floored to process it all right away. This added a whole new layer of complicated to an already uneasy arrangement.

“Well, I know you’re right about one thing. I would’ve said no.”

She gave you a set of pleading eyes, praying you’d see where she was coming from.

“I know,” she whispered defeatedly. “But maybe... now that you know, you can understand why he acts out the way he does.”

“Penelope, I can’t just… make someone move on, or –– or get them to believe in love! Especially when it’s fake.”

How on Earth did she expect you to pull that off? Did that guy from A Walk to Remember move on when Mandy Moore died? You hadn’t seen the ending of the movie, but you assumed not.

“I’m sorry, this is just… a lot bigger than the favor I thought it was ––”

“What if I could return it?” she cut in. The gears in her head started to turn, figuring ways to patch up the holes she made.

“There’s nothing I need from you.”

That couldn’t be true. Penelope looked around the room and it didn’t take her long to think of it.

“I can help you sell your art,” she tempted, gesturing to the scattered canvases. “You make all your income from this, right?”

You didn’t want to give any fuel to her fire, but you nodded. “What if… what if you didn’t have to settle for local buyers? What if I told you that you could make way more money selling them to the whole world?”

You chortled at her idea.

You were a local artist, through and through. Your art got put in local galleries and sold to local buyers. Nothing more, and that was fine with you. You realized it a long time ago that it was just a pipe dream to think you’d be more.

“I’m serious! You could get a separate painting studio, and stop living in one? Huh?” She wrapped her hand around your shoulder, waving the other in the air, urging you to picture it with her. “Imagine this: a kitchen that’s separate from your living room. A bed, inside it’s own four walls, and more than twelve feet from where you cook your meals.”

Pushing aside her so blatantly insulting your apartment, if that were a possibility, you’d want nothing more. But it already sounded foolish and you hadn’t even heard how she planned to pull it off.

“Penelope, I’m fine where I am. I make the money I need, and that’s... it’s fine.”

She gave you a pointed look. “You know, I can hack all search engine results to make sure you are what comes up first anytime someone enters the word ‘painting’, right?

An airy chuckle left your lips. Of course she could. You patted her thigh twice and stood up, prompting her to follow you to your door –– hopefully, so she can show herself to the other side of it. “Still no, Pen.”

“Just take some time to think about it!” Her voice carried through the wood as you shut it on her.

There was this one bench in Kenilworth Park – the one that overlooks the crystal clear pond – that you’d always been able to rely on to fix any problem.

There was hidden magic in the bushes that sprawled out from the edges of the water, surrounded by spiky green blades of overgrown grass. A simplicity you loved in baby ducklings paddling into the tiny body of water, swimming close together so they don’t get lost in, what seems to them, a whole ocean. And clarity provided by the freshest air in the world, under the shade of the big oak trees on a late summer afternoon.

But at the present, none of that came close to being enough.

The artist’s block started off as a minor inconvenience, but without your permission, had stretched into weeks of steadily declining motivation. Each new idea felt even worse than the last, and you were acutely aware that there would come a point where you’d officially hit maximum capacity for how awful they could get.

Still, that didn’t seem to light a fire under you. You happily coexisted with the blank pages of your sketchbook. Staring down at them, laying open on your lap in their stark-white glory, you felt like you were playing a waiting game. If you stared long and hard enough, maybe they’d flinch.

Unfortunately, you never got to find out who won, because your phone rang inside your pocket. As if the caller had interrupted an incredible genius at work (which couldn’t be farther from the truth), you hastily raised the phone to your ear, slamming your sketchbook shut.

“Hello?” Your voice wasn’t as kind as it could be for someone with nothing better to be doing. Two seconds later, you learned who was calling and came to regret it.

“Hi, This is Rebecca from District Arts, calling with a message from Andre ––”

“Oh, hi!” you tried to walk back your previous tone, straightening up in your seat and pitching your voice higher, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from him!”

While Rebecca intimidated you, Andre happened to be your closest friend at the gallery. He worked closely with the artists to curate their collection and help them make sales.

“Does he want to sort out what to set the opening bid prices at for my new pieces?” A handful of days ago, you sent him pictures of your new work and were waiting to hear his thoughts. You’d always been able to trust his opinion, and a vote of confidence from him might be just the thing to inspire you.

“Uhm…” There was a criminally long pause on the other side of the line, ended by Rebecca’s weary inhale. “Unfortunately, we’re calling to inform you that your pieces will not be included in the next rotation.”

For a minute, you weren’t sure what to make of what she said. You’d never heard those words before.

“What – what do you mean?” you laughed nervously. She probably misspoke. Perks of friendship aside, Andre always included you in sets.

“Ugh, let me just get him…” her voice faded away as she put the phone down.

That wasn’t exactly the reassuring statement you were looking for. In the time it took for the call to switch hands, your confusion finally melted in. And then quickly boiled into anger.

The District Arts gallery changed their entire collection every two months. The pieces shown accepted rolling bids throughout the full eight weeks, finally selling at the end of term to their highest offer. After that, the pieces got taken down, sent to happy new owners, and the entire gallery reset with entirely new works.

So if you missed one rotation, that meant waiting two months to get back in.

“Andre, how am I just cut from the gallery!” you barked before he could get a word in. If he didn’t like your work, he could’ve just said so.

“No one said that ––”

“Okay, let me rephrase.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, something you found yourself doing quite frequently lately, and took a deep breath in and out. It was seemingly just for show because it did absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Why wouldn’t you put me in the next set? I’m in all of them!”

“I know you are!” He sounded just as upset. “It’s just that… we give you the biggest space we have, because you always manage to fill it up. But this time… I’m not so sure you can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “What makes you say that?” You asked that, but you knew.

“You’ve only finished three pieces… I’m worried how you’ll deliver seven more before we set up.”

“But… it’s four weeks away, I could do ––”

“And it took you four weeks to make what you have... I’m sorry. We couldn’t take that gamble.”

He took your silence as an opportunity to turn off the work talk and speak, just friend to friend.

“You know that I trust you and I’d hold that spot if I could. But, I also know what you’re going through right now, and… I don’t know, maybe letting yourself rest would be a good thing?”

Your heart paused. By, “knowing what you’re going through”, you assumed he didn’t mean the little artist’s block.

“If you’re implying that I can’t do my job because of what happened with Cyrus –”

“I’m not, I’m not....” he backtracked as quickly as he could. “But take another look at the paintings you showed me and tell me if they feel like you.”

Even if he was right, you wanted to fight him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to beg that you didn’t need that big space; you were willing to downsize and just turn in the three that you had. Even if they got shoved into the corner where hardly anybody bothered to look. You just couldn’t afford to go two months without the income.

But even with tears beading up, you realized that the gallery couldn’t afford it either. They needed to bring in money and you couldn’t do that for them this time. So they were right to go to someone who can.

“Right,” you sniffled, recollecting yourself so he can’t hear the shakiness in your voice. “I understand. It’s a big risk, like you said… It’s for the better.”

Andre tried to thank you for being understanding and spewed some sort of encouragement. The words flew over your head. You managed to toss in a few ‘mhmm’s and ‘sure’s at the right places to coast you along until the call finally ended.

As soon as it went dead, you dropped your phone to the side and brought your hands to your face, rubbing them furiously over your cheeks. Your fingertips pressed hard into your eyelids, trying to forcibly reabsorb the tears threatening to spill.

It almost worked, until you tried to breathe.

A full sob escaped in that one gulp of air and you succumbed to it. But the loud crunching noise of some pedestrian walking over the falling leaves destroyed your sense of privacy, and you quickly wiped away all signs of your breakdown. The crunching stopped just short of your bench and on instinct you flicked your eyes up to see who the intruder was.

You did a double take. It was him. That fucking asshole.

He was standing there, looking dumber than you could even remember, with his hands in his coat pockets and a curious look on his face as he watched you cry. Tucking your sketchbook under your arm in haste, you made it a point to stand up with as much aggression as possible, rolling your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” you barked. “No need to yell at me this time.”

You bristled past him, barely refraining yourself from checking his shoulder as payback. You wanted to believe you were better than him, but it did sound incredibly tempting. He stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and following you.

“Wait,” he groaned.

You didn’t listen, neither stopping nor slowing down.

“I said wait,” he huffed as he caught up to you, popping up at your side and jogging along as you kept going.

“Yeah, because I need to listen to a guy who yells at strangers in bookstores.”

Now that you’d brought up the elephant in the room, your feet started moving even faster, working double time to get you away from him.

Damn the fact that he had those long legs. He didn’t even break a sweat trying to keep up. He was inescapable.

“Well, if you waited like I asked, you would’ve gotten an apology for the ––”

“Gee, thanks!” you yelled, stopping for only a second to turn to him and give him a mocking bow of your head, hands clasped together like you were praising at his altar. “I was waiting with bated breath for that! Thank you, kind sir, for now my life can go on.”

“Look, I’m actually sorry,” he snapped. Then in realizing the irony, softened his voice, “I’m sorry for being rude. I was having a bad day… not that that’s an excuse.”

You stared at him blankly, just watching his mouth moving quickly and waiting until it finally stopped.

“Did you need something?”

“Did you… did you not hear what I just said?!”

“No, sorry,” you smiled, voice sweet like sugar. “My ears filter bullshit. Wanna try again?”

He scoffed, looking away like he couldn’t believe you before stepping even closer. “What’s your problem?”

“Me!? The fuck –– what the fuck is your problem?” You turned and stormed off again, seething at his audacity. Spencer just couldn’t relent his annoying tendencies and followed yet again.

“My problem is that I’m trying to be nice, and you’re not letting me!”

You got a good, hard laugh out of that. “Okay, first of all, having to apologize for yelling at me and pushing me isn’t exactly the best starting point for the journey of becoming a nice person.”

“Like I said, I was having a bad day.”

Under your breath, you muttered, “Well, I hope this one’s even worse.”

“Why are you such a ––” He stopped himself from finishing that thought. Even in his worst mood, he wouldn’t cross that line.

But he didn’t need to finish it, you knew exactly where he wanted to take it. The soles of your shoes scraped against the loose gravel as you came to a grinding halt, ears ringing.

“A what?” You turned to face him, a sarcastic smile on your face growing wider as he started to shrink more and more. You got up close in his face, daring him to say what he really wanted to. So he could reinforce your belief in exactly the type of person he was. “A what?”

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, refusing to say it no matter how much you challenged him. If he wasn’t going to have the balls to say it, you decided to take it upon yourself.

“Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and get back to me the next time you’re in a cunty mood.”

The word he was thinking of was probably not as bad, but you had a habit of escalating things. Even if you took this one too far, you didn’t care.

Before you tried to take off again, Spencer’s hand flew to your elbow. He tugged you back, forcing you to turn around and face him. He didn’t know his own strength; without any resistance, you came stumbling into his chest, at risk of falling over if it weren’t for his tight grip on your arm.

It took you a beat to push him away with both your hands on his chest, vocalizing your disgust for being so close to him.

“Can you stop trying to disagree with me for a second? I’m trying to tell you that you’re right, I was being a… well, you know…” He avoided the word. Apparently ‘cunt’ was where he drew the line. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.”

Your nostrils were still flared and blood hot as ever, but he made you pause. He looked sincere, if not a little tinged with guilt as well. You were suspicious of it.

“You saw me crying and felt bad, didn’t you?”

He laughed darkly. “Well, I saw you, yes. Did I feel bad? No.”

“Oh, my God,” you growled, berating yourself for getting close to believing he might be capable of decency.

“I’m joking! I’m joking.” He squeezed your elbow twice in earnest. “I did feel bad, but that’s not why I wanted to say it.”

“Okay.” You weren’t ready to give him a real smile, so you flattened your lips into a thin line and nodded once slowly, and left it at that.

You still weren’t a fan, but the apology did dampen some of the resentment. Maybe he wasn’t the worst person alive. You’d settle for saying top ten most annoying, instead.

Minutes later, you came to the startling realization that he was still on the path, just two paces behind you. You flinched when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, not expecting him to still be here.

“Uhm. Where are you… why are you still following me?”

“I’m not. My car’s that way,” he gestured to the parking lot at the end of the long walkway. “I forgot my loaf for the ducks.” He didn’t mean to offer that information up, it just slipped out. He could practically see your smug expression coming before it even got there.

“You’re not supposed to feed bread to the ducks. It’s bad for them.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t care to explain this to you, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was any less competent than he really was. “It’s a special bread made from water and seeds that were ground into flour. It’s duck-safe.”

“They make duck-safe bread?” Now that was something you’d never heard before.

“No… I make duck-safe bread,” he said softly under his breath.

You didn’t know how else you were supposed to react to that besides laughing wildly.

“You make it?” He nodded like you were the crazy one here. As if he wasn’t the one spending his spare time grinding up seeds and baking loaves of bread for ducks, donning a frilly pink apron and oven mitts as he did so. At least that’s how you imagined it. “Why not just feed them the seeds?”

“Because, loose seeds will sink in the water and can potentially clog waterbeds and cause foreign bacteria growth in the pond.”

“So you… hand-make the seeds into a little loaf of bread so it doesn't do that?”

He confirmed. You pondered silently for a moment, then absolutely had to ask, “You ever eaten the duck bread before?”

Spencer was caught off guard by that question. His cheeks deepened to a rosy color.

“Yeah, well, it was the house so…” he laughed nervously and stared at his sneakers. “It’s actually not too bad.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by that. You remembered what his grocery basket looked like, and given those same options, you probably would’ve tried the duck bread too. Still, you cracked the smallest of grins at knowing he makes bread for ducks. The one, sole redeeming fact you’ve learned about Spencer.

You reached your car first, and Spencer stopped in front of it with you.

“I’m actually sorry, you know,” he whispered once more, hand resting at the top of your car door as you opened it. He wasn’t talking about the incident at the bookstore.

“Yeah…” For a while you were so busy being angry at Spencer that you forgot about your own problems.

He noticed your nose was still red around the edges, eyes still a little bleary. “Are you okay, by the way?” His voice was too soft, too genuine.

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head again. And then you had an awful thought.

You knew he was just offering to help just to say it, because that’s how people react when you say you’re not okay even if they don’t care. But there actually was something he could do for you… Something that Penelope could do.

“Uh, no but…” you fixed your hair and tucked it behind your ear, seamlessly switching to a flirtier voice. “If you still feel bad about the other day, you’re welcome to make it up to me.”

Spencer cocked his head to the side, unsure of how he could do that.

“Hang out with me sometime.”

“H-hang out?” You could tell that it flustered him, even if he tried to play it off. He swallowed thickly, nose twitching and brows scrunched together.

“Relax, I really do just mean hang out.” You were lying through your teeth. He didn’t need to know that.

As if he didn’t want to think about it for a second longer and just get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he agreed without thinking it through. He didn’t even ask why an almost complete stranger would want to hang out with him.

You stuck your hand out, expecting him to hand over his cell so you could put your contact into it. He rocked on the balls of his feet, watching as you input your contact and sent yourself a text on his phone.

“Hi, this is…” you read out your message as you typed, pausing at just the right place. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Oh-uh, I’m Spencer.”

A devilish grin took over your face, hidden from his view while you were looking down at the screen. He was going to be easy to fool.

agh! im still not in love with how this chapter is turning out, but it came to a point where i just had to stop fiddling with it and just post it. any feedback or comments about this story is very much appreciated 💕

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dnarez · 3 years

Text

Rain Season

Tw. Sex, a lot of fluff, domestic, porn with plot

Aizawa Shouta x Reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Anonymous: I would like to request an Aizawaxfem reader, where she is a pilot but decides to transfer to an office job for him, also, please do is very domestic, like... he had an awful day and is very grumpy, but she takes care of him, and then he takes care of her ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) if you know what I mean.

I hope you liked it!!! This was my first time doing a request!!!

+3.9k words

I didn't made the second check to see if I have anything wrong with the writting, sorry

...

"Fucking rain season" said Eraserhead while getting inside his home, soaked from head to toe, he saw your heels on the entrance hall and frowned at it, he just wanted to be alone right now.

You heard him going inside your house and by the sound of his wet boots his mood was just as bad as the weather.

Chuckle to yourself as you keep preparing the bathtub.

Shouta's footsteps were light, but you always had a good hearing, and that helped to not letting him scare the shit out of you.

"I know that you are there love" you raise to your feet and look at him with a smile, but turns into a giggle seeing him all wet.

"Why are you here?" his rude tone would set anyone off, but you knew he was just being grumpy.

"I can't fly with this rain, it's too dangerous for me and the passengers so~" you go to him and brush his bangs away to let you see all of his beautiful face.

His eyes glare at you, he didn't want to get his hopes too high, Shouta knew that having a relationship with a pilot wouldn't be easy, and the little bit of time you two had together was heaven but always too short.

So any time that you had a day off he wouldn't ask for more time, but fuck he missed his girlfriend, he didn't even know how he was so lucky to fetch such a catch, but you would always respond with 'the bait was just too good to let it pass'

Even so, even if he tried to not get his hopes up, maybe... just maybe you would stay for a bit longer than usual...

You kissed his cheek and petted his drenched hair "I also got a promotion!"

Shouta frowned at that "so why don't you go celebrate with your friends?" He pushes you away and started to strip.

Huffing, you help him against his wishes "How barbaric! Didn't even let me finish!" You hold his hands stopping him from taking his pants off "I got a promotion for..." you clap twice "AN OFFICE JOB!" And make jazz hands on the end.

He looks at you astonished "An office job!? You hate working on a desk, and you also hate doing the same things every day! That's why you love being a pilot!" He says angrily, everything was making him angry right now, even your voice, one of, if not the most thing, he likes about you.

You sigh "Yes but... I already traveled to most of the countries in the world, I saw so much but..." you blush and evade his eyes

Aizawa gets closer to you, making both chests almost touch "But?"

"But... every time I saw something new I would think of you... and how you would like this, or how you would smile eating that, I'm feeling more and more homesick with each trip so... I asked to be transferred..."

He just... looks at you, which makes you blush more each minute that passes "I-I was thinking... that I could... maybe... move in, since it's so close to the airport from here, and... I would be able to sleep and wake up with you by my side" your whole face is red.

Shouta smile and hugs you tightly, "Why are you even asking? I gave you the keys in hope that you would move in"

You smiled and hugged him back, but his skin was too damn cold! You felt like you were hugging an ice cube!

The sweet moment was interrupted by him sneezing, "OMG! Bathtub! Now!" You pull him to the tub and help him to take off his clothes

"What about you? You just got here, right?" He asked while stepping out of his pants and boxer.

"I will take a shower, you can take your time and relax" you kiss his shoulder (because it's the highest place you can reach without him bending)

Shouta nods and gets inside the bathtub, smelling a woodsy scent, the water was also a little green "what did you put in here?"

You take off your clothes "It's a new bathwater, it helps relax the body and all that shit" you take a hair tie and ties Aizawa's hair in a cute messy bun "today we will take care of you, okay?" finally being able to kiss his cheek you smile nodding to yourself and goes to take a shower.

He watches you for some time and then relax on the bathtub, now that he's calm and relaxed he can faintly hear the sound of the rain outside, the strong bathroom lights were annoying him by not letting him relax "can you please turn off the lights?"

You stop for a minute and get out of the shower, doing what he asked, but lighting a few candles first "better?"

"Uhum..." he sighs and close his eyes

"I will keep on watch, don't worry, you can take a nap" you dry yourself and take the stool you normally used to shave and sit on it while on Aizawa's side

He just mumbles something and start to snore lightly.

You smile at the scene, he was always a sweetheart with you, putting you first, even if you had to cancel a lot more plans than he had because of work, the day you two meet was while he was working, and you were on your way to your flight, it was out of a novel type of meeting.

________________

It was supposed to be a normal Friday, you were going on your vacation, and decided to walk to the airport, you decided that it was the only type of exercise you would do on your vacation, since you were going to eat a lot of everything no matter the place.

But while calmly walking and admiring the orange sky, some guys passed running way too close to you, the last one actually picked you up and started caring you!!!

"HELP!" you shouted and started struggling trying to get the man to release you, to no avail

"Calm down princess, we just want the cops to not shoot"

"YOU SHUT UP!" you screamed and punched his throat making him stumble and drop you on the ground.

You landed in a bad way over your arm, you heard something crack, but the adrenaline pumping in your veins made it impossible to feel any pain.

You heard footsteps coming to you and see that a pro was following them, one of the guys grabs you and point a knife to your neck.

"Stop or I'll slice her throat!" The pro stops a few meter away and glares at the villain.

The villain rise you to your feet and gives a maniac laugh "poor hero! I know that you won't forget her face after this-"

Since you had both arms free, and had a brain, you decided to not let him kill you, so as logically as anyone would think, you decided to grab his balls and squeeze them as strongly as you could, and sadly for him, you were really angry.

The villain releases you and falls to his knees, you take the opportunity to run to the pro.

The dark haired hero put quirk canceling handcuffs on both of them, he looks back at you and makes sign to get you closer, you do as told and, and he put his hand on your right arm, you scream at that and holds your arms close to your chest "FUCK!"

He nods to himself "the police and ambulance are already on their way, you shouldn't have done that, what would happen if he had cut your throat in impulse?"

"Then I would die" you look at him with a poker face "so what? Now I will have to get a license and won't be able to work for the next 3 months, GREAT!" you groan frustrated and glare at your own arm.

"You almost died and care more about your job?" He asks confused.

"Not exactly, I just got my vacation, and now I have to postpone for a few days, just so I can get used to the cast, this suck" you sigh and let your head fall forward.

"You just need to ask for your friend's help, why would that be difficult?" He looks back at the handcuffed villains and then looks the siren noise finally starts to be heard.

"I don't have friends" you say and look up at him "so again, it will be difficult to do things with a cast"

You two were silenced by the ambulance and the police car arriving almost at the same time, you were checked and told that you would go to the hospital, but before they closed the door the hero came back into view.

"You said you don't have friends so... would you like my help?"

______________

Since then, you both had so much fun together, you started to pass more and more time with each other.

Until you asked him out on a date, and here you are, watching him on the bathtub taking a nap.

You smile at the scene and goes next to him, and start giving butterfly kisses all over his face to wake him up.

Aizawa wakes up and looks at you sleepy, you smile at his cute face "the water must be getting cold, come on, I already ordered food from your favorite restaurant" you help him up and dry him when he steps out of the bathtub, giving small kisses all over.

"You don't need to do this... I'm actually quite against this..." you chuckle and shake your head

"You work hard every day and night, always finds time to go watch a movie that I want, or go to a place that I like, you stay at school until late to help your students, or to help Yamada with paperwork, you are also thinking about getting the temporary guard of that little girl Eri" you put his towel around his waist and ties it there "It's my time to help you" you kiss his shoulder "and take care of the man I adore"

He nodded, permitting your plans to pamper the shit out of him.

You take a hold of his hand and brings him to the bedroom, where there were some candles and light blue rose petals, some relaxing song was playing, and the few scented candles were weak and just enough to help him relax.

"You got my favorite ones... " he looks at the light blue petals and gives a sad smile "thank you..."

You know that he is thanking for the flower, since the color always reminds him of his late friend, but when you two talk about it, you never ask about the accident, and just ask about everything else about him and their time together, so to Shouta when you show or talk about his late friend only good memories surge, and not the dreadful one, which he is quite thankful for.

"You're welcome, now lay down on the bed, stomach down and ass up" he looks at you suspiciously "I won't play with your ass today, don't worry, I will give you a massage"

He sits on the bed "since when do you know how to make these?"

You huff and put on one of his shirts "I took classes, so that I could help you de-stress, now lay down and let me help you"

He sighs thinking how this is a terrible idea, but smiles and comply at the end 'she learned something just to help me...'

You start on his feet, massaging with care a trying to remember what he told you on the classes.

Aizawa closed his eyes and thought about the time before this relationship, he would probably have taken a quick shower, ate some leftovers and slept the rest of the time, then woke up and go to work.

Having you is a luxury he wants to have every day.

Shouta knows that it's selfish of him to think like that, but you are so good to him, always has been.

When he was tired it seemed like you had a sixth sense to know, you would tell him to lay his head on your lap and would pet his hair while talking about your day with a sweet a low toned voice, he would always wake up on the bed, you said that you woke him up and brought him to the room, but he doesn't remember waking up at all.

Your hair was beautiful, your eyes gorgeous, your nose cute, the way you tilt your head before asking a question, the little mole you have on your eyelid, that can only be seen when your eyes are closed.

He really adores you.

The massage is so fucking good, you said you took a few classes??? He doesn't believe you.

Your hands go gradually up to his legs, then his lower back, his upper back, and you finish on his neck, when you had finished the feet he was already napping.

You hoped that the massage was good and that it would help him, you were going to wake him, but your phone buzzed signaling that your food was here.

You get up, pick the phone up and go to the door where you greet the delivery guy.

"Having a good night?" You ask while hiding half of your body behind the door

"Yes ma'am! Here's your order" he gives you your package which you quickly put on the table and return with your cellphone showing the qr code

"Here, have a great end of day" he smiles back at you and goes away.

You lock the door and put the table for the two of you.

...

Shouta wakes up feeling extremely relaxed, but something was missing, he looks around and see that the candles were off, only the scented one was light 'smart girl' he smiles at the thought of you, and notices how his body is super light.

He gets up and adjust the towel around his waist, his mood is a lot better now, but while hungry his facial expression still was an angry glare, he looked at his reflection in the mirror and frowns, you always had a carefree and relaxed expression, and he was starting to get aging lines, were you really only 5 years younger?

He sighs and opens the door not bothering to put on clothes, he sees you putting the table up and sees the package for his favorite sushi place and frowns.

You look back at him and smile "I was about to wake you up"

Aizawa gets closer to you "You shouldn't have done that, my favorite restaurant is too expensive to order if it isn't an especial occasion"

You shake your head "We are celebrating my promotion, also I got a fat bonus~" you sit and point serves you both some wine.

"Let's celebrate and relax" you start eating happy for the high quality product.

...

After eating you washed the dishes against Shouta's wish, but he did put the plates away.

"So... is there anything else you wanted to do?" You look at your boyfriend and see his relaxed body and face, much better than the angry wet cat that had arrived earlier.

He steps closer to you and looks into your eyes "I want to do you"

You blush heavily "this isn't about me today..." you pout

He shakes his head "I love when I see your facial expressions, and your voice screaming my name is my favorite song, now please... let me hear you sing" he holds your face with both hands and give you a peck on the lips.

You nod and close your eyes, going with the flow.

His pecks turn into kisses, that he cover your face with it, very slowly "my beautiful. Kind. Sweet. And caring girlfriend. Taking such a good care of me. You think that I didn't notice how the house is cleaner than when I left?" His kisses start to go lower to your throat "always so caring... you also need to de-stress a little. Let me help you" his hand start to travel down thru your body.

You sigh from how kind he is being, normally he would kneel and eat you out like he was a starved man, then he would proceed to fuck your brains out on the dinner table, but right now he wasn't stressed from work, or angry about the villains attacking even in this bad weather.

You should do this more often...

"Stop spacing out and focus on me" he bites your earlobe, and you gasp focussing on him, you only now notice his hands on your thigh and on your breasts under the shirt, he gave both a little squeeze which made you whimper and tremble under his hands.

"S-sorry..." he kissed your collarbone and bite your neck

"Let's go to our bed, it's been some time since we used it for something that isn't sleeping" you felt a shiver going all over your body from how low his voice got.

"Y-yeah! Let's do that!" You turn around to go to the bedroom, but he stops you by picking you up, you hug his neck and blush heavily again "hey! You surprised me!"

"Good, that was the intention" as he walks to the bedroom you hear something falling, when you look behind him, you see that he dropped the towel, and now you have a perfect place to see his butt.

"Why is your ass better than mine?" You pout and notice that you are now on the bedroom

"If you exercise more you would also have a nice and firm ass like mine, but I do prefer pudding"

"Pudding?" He lays you down on the bed with your back to the ceiling and stomach to the bed.

Shouta give your ass a bite, and you laugh "oh! Pudding! Now I get it"

He chuckles and kiss where he had bitten "mine..." he says in a sweet voice and hugs your waist for some time.

Then he raises and turn you around, now facing him "would you allow me to make love with you?"

You blush and smile, caressing his face "of course" you take the opportunity to untie his hair, that had been tied since the bath 'next time I will wash his hair'

Shouta smiles and kiss you slow and passionately.

This was different from normal, and so good, so sweet, you feel his hands going down again and opening your legs.

His fingers caressed your entrance, he broke the kiss and brought his fingers to his face "so wet for me already, how kind of you" his fingers go down again but this time he makes circling movements on your clit.

You sigh from the stimulation and pull his face close to you again "please, I want more Shouta" you open your mouth begging for more kisses.

He complies and kiss you passionately again, his second hand come up and fondle with your breast, sometimes pinching your nipple.

Everything he did was so slow that you felt like drowning in him, his taste, his scent, his skin touching yours, you were drowning in him and him in you.

After 2 years of relationship you two knew what the other liked or needed, and this was something new, that both needed this very much and neither knew.

His fingers went inside you slowly and curved slightly, then he moved it at the same pace as before, slow enough to tease but fast enough to stimulate.

You part the kiss again "more... please! More!" You move your hips to feel more and put your hand over his that was on your breast and squeeze it asking for more pressure.

"Such a nice way to beg... do you think you can take it? I want to feel you around me"

You knew that you needed more preparation, since Shouta was the biggest you ever had, and he stretched you to your limit every time, you remember that the first time you two had the sensation was the same as losing your virginity, but he asked so nicely... and by the looks of it he will be very loving, so you nod in confirmation.

He smiles at you and lined himself on your entrance.

Now that you think about it, it looks like he was hard for some time now, the purplish head and the pulsating vein make it obvious that he has been holding himself back.

"My eyes are up here~" he mocks, and you look at him, like... you really look at him, and you decide to drop the bomb.

The L bomb hadn't been dropped by neither of you, even after 2 years, both afraid of the other leaving after they got attached, but... you were already attached, and he has such a dangerous job, you never know what will happen, so you decide to let it be known.

"Aizawa Shouta... I love you"

He looked astonished at you and gave you a wobbly smile "I love you too" as he said that he penetrated into you and gave you a deep kiss with a lot of tongue to distract you from the discomfort.

Aizawa keep pushing until all of him was inside, he part the kiss and sighs relieved "you are always what I need to make a shitty day much better"

You shudder from his deep voice and put your hands on his shoulder "I'm glad that I can put your mind at ease in though days" you kiss his nose and he smiles back at you.

He gives a small trust, and you respond with a small moan, encouraging him.

Shouta gives slow and shallow trusts, letting you get comfortable.

You lick your lips and wiggle your hips trying to get more of him in "please move! Your going too slow!" He chuckles and bites your neck

"I had totally forgotten this" he takes your shirt off "there, all mine " he said in a sweet tone and hugged you close, letting both chest press against each other.

Shouta starts moving faster, and the way his body squeezed you was suffocating in a good way, you start scratching him as soon as he's hips start clapping against yours, the pressure on your belly.

'So close' the position had his cock rubbing against your favorite spot deliciously you were taking short breaths with your eyes glossy from pleasure.

But the feeling of you around him, your nails on his back and your small moans and whimpers, everything about you was intoxicating, Shouta bites your necks, then your shoulder, and start to bite you all over leaving marks on you "mine..." he said again and started pounding on you.

It was so sudden that you couldn't hold back a high pitched moan followed by a whimper "Shouta!"

He bites your nipple and suck it while fucking you, holding your body against him by the hips.

Shouta was going to be kind and have a slow and sweet sex with you, but the way you drive him crazy with so little, he wants to ravish you, but decides against it.

One of his hands go to your clit and rub circles on it making your body tremble, and you arch your back wanting more "Shouta!"

His thrusts got sloppier, now going faster "close... so close" he laid his head on your shoulder.

The feeling of his dick kissing you womb hurt in a good way, the way he knew you loved "close!"

You came first, creaming on his dick while arching your back, his thrusts got sloppier he bites your shoulder and grunts while coming on your stomach.

He sits up and looks down at you, and your stomach covered in cum and your fucked out face with pride.

..........................................

I had already wrote this, I still am on hiatus, I'm just posting it here, since the other plataforms already have it

#bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha #mha #mha x reader #mha x you #mha x y/n #aizawa shouta #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #aizawa sensei #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa fluff #shouta x y/n #bnha shouta aizawa #mha shouta #smut #oneshot #minors do not interact

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leftsidebonfire · 3 years

Text

OG Hamon Crew Headcanons by Yours Truly, Leftside Bonfire

Tagging a few peeps who showed interest, hope you don't mind 👉👈 @theeggcatwizard @its-that-guy-again also @go-dark-turtle cuz it's ur man and @berryvalentine because you appreciate my PB love. Also @bleach-and-a-blowtorch cuz we appreciate Will together.

Okay so.

Firstly, Dire, Will and Straizo were not as serious as you might think. When those 3 started Hamon training, they were about as goofy and Caesar and Joseph. Caesar gets his shenanigans from someone, after all. 👀

Will, of course, took it very seriously and was a dedicated and hard worker, as were the others, but they're young men with a special skill who are bound to play around eventually.

For example, look at Will. He's hopping along the water using hamon, giggling and clearly having a good time even at 50. He's clearly very playful and eccentric. It wouldn't surprise me if the others got in on it, too!

Straizo was the most serious. Will was the most eccentric. Dire was somewhere in the middle. He was very studious, but got roped into shenanigans with Will a lot easier. Straizo was the level headed one who shook his head when Will woke up at 3 am with another plan to try water hopping.

Sometimes the boys would sneak out, too. They can't be perfect all the time. Will was a night owl who got his best ideas at night, and it was one night he just couldn't sleep, so he tried using Hamon to stick to the wall. Needless to say, he found a way to climb and visited Dire and Straizo at their own respective rooms... from outside their windows 3 stories up!

Dire is the himbo of the group. Every group needs a himbo, and he is it. He puts on a very serious face, a lot of the time, but he has his moments. When he does something skillful, he is very proud of himself. In more than just a prideful way, more like a "Hey, cool, I did it!" Type way. After he taught himself Thunder Cross Split Attack, he took great pride in getting both Straizo and Will with it several times.

Dire tried to get Tonpetty with it once. Once. And never again.

None of the boys invented the Hamon breathing mask, but they did watch in its creation and were some of the first to try them out. They looked a lot different and improved over the years, which Straizo actually did participate in.

Will invented his wine technique on accident. It was a genuine moment of, "fuck it, I wanna see if this works." And it did. He showed the others and they thought it was weird.

Dire learned how to ballroom dance at a young age, and in his free time, taught the others.

Dire and Straizo were a part of Will's wedding.

Will gets a lot of his energy from sailing. The seas are tough and the people on them are more gruff and brutal, so he had a lot more freedom to be eccentric. This carried over into adulthood, clearly. Even being a distinguished gentleman, he still can't resist a good prank, much like sneezing yourself 20 feet into the air.

Straizo would mainly come out of his shell when intoxicated. On the nights the boys shared their wine, it wouldn't be unusual to see the three leaning on each other, and Straizo with the biggest smile and drunken blush dusting his cheeks.

Since so few people in the world studied Hamon, the group, even the teachers alike, had a very close bond. And while the students had their fun, on occasion, the others would also join in the shenanigans every once in a while. Tonpetty was a lot like Lisa Lisa in his teaching, but it doesn't stop him from laughing at some of the things others come up with.

Will's hat was still a family heirloom. He got it from his father. And it was Speedwagon who made sure Mario Zeppeli got it. It fell back into Speedwagon's hands after Mario died, and Speedwagon once again made sure it was received by Caesar.

And to finish off this round of headcanons (I'm willing to bet there will be MANY more)...

Will was the most skilled of the group. Hamon came very naturally to him. Straizo was second best, though it took far longer. Will was the fast learner, Straizo was best in the long run. Dire wasn't the best. It took him far longer to get the hang of it, though once he figured it out, he was first to start inventing his own techniques and even the trainers were impressed.

💕💕💕

Ight so like... I feel really really inclined to make a fic out of Will's training days with some really headcanoned lore.... would anybody actually be interested in reading it? I haven't been in my Harry Potter phase in a long time but this gives a major Marauders vibes and I'm sooo inspired by them right now 👉👈

#OG Hamon Crew #Phantom Blood #Dire #Dire Jojo #Straizo #Straizo Jojo #Will Zeppeli #William Zeppeli #Baron Zeppeli #Hamon #Headcanons #Jojo headcanons #Jjba headcanons #Jjba #Jojo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo part 1

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libsterslobsters · 3 years

Text

Whole Lotta Love

Synopsis: For some people, Valentine’s Day is another word for "stress", especially when you don't know what the other person is expecting. Several years into their relationship, Bucky’s pretty sure he has a good understanding of the Reader, until a word from Sam makes him question everything he thinks he knows. The race is on to make their first Valentine’s Day since saying their vows a special one, but as per usual, fate has it's own ideas about what will make the holiday truly memorable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Smut, Fluff

Author's note: This fic contains references to earlier stories. For more information, click the series masterlist link. As always, the reader is unnamed so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I think of her as an OC.

The song referenced is Hearts Don't Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran

Series Masterlist

A The Song Remains The Same Fic

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“So, Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky doesn’t look up from his laptop (or more specifically, the field report he’s typing) at Sam’s words. Despite his concentration, he can tell that his partner is staring at him, boring holes into his back with his gaze.

“Uh-huh.” He’s listening, but so far, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing for it?” For Valentine’s day? Um…

“Not much.” It’s a Tuesday this year, right? Then probably working, like most other people, he’d imagine.

The room is silent as he types, so Bucky assumes that settles the matter. That is, until Sam mutters a quiet, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“About what?” How many paragraphs does he have to type before he can pass this off as a full report? When he joined the Avengers, he thought the hardest part of his job would be the bad guy of the week, not doing paperwork!

“You’re really not doing anything for Valentine’s Day? Seriously?” He nods absentmindedly and clicks the save icon. He’ll finish this tomorrow. It’s five o’clock. Time to head home. Home to-

“What’s your wife gonna think about that?” He shrugs and cuts the power to the laptop.

“She thinks that the whole holiday is a rip-off. See you Monday?” He turns around for confirmation, only to catch Sam staring at him, mouth hanging wide open. “What?”

“A rip-off?” Is he just going to be stuck repeating himself?

“Yep.” Told him that the first February 14th they spent together.

“And you actually believed her?”

He nods. “She’s not one to lie.”

Sam nods incredulously. “Uh-huh. And are you planning to ever have sex again?”

He’s not going to dignify that with an answer (because really, isn’t it obvious?).

“Fine.” Sam shrugs. “You do you, man. All I’m saying is, if I had a wife who looked like that-” he indicates the lock screen of Bucky’s phone (a picture of her laughing, telling him to put away the damn camera after wrestling the dog for the tie to her favorite robe). “-I’d have my V-day plans set up a month in advance.”

Normally Bucky would take what Sam says with a grain of salt, but he is after all a man out of time, so maybe it’s worth considering that his partner may be right.

“What would you suggest I do?”

“Outside of the bedroom?” He narrows his eyes at the Falcon. “Okay, bad joke.” Sam scratches at the back of his head, thinking. “I don’t know, man. That’s your girl. You know her best, but flowers are always a good place to start.” Good to know that hasn’t changed since the 1940s. Although, last time he brought her flowers, she spent the afternoon sneezing until he eventually convinced her that it was okay, he wouldn’t be offended, she should throw the damn things out. Then again, that was before she was a super soldier.

“Flowers.” He repeats, earning a nod from Sam.

“You can get creative. Do a little research. But I’m just saying, when a woman waits five years for you to reappear, the least she deserves is a few flowers.” On that, they can agree.

He must bid Sam some sort of goodbye and make his way through the Avengers compound, but he’s unaware of anything until he’s in the parking lot, sitting behind the wheel of his car, googling “What to do for your wife on Valentine’s Day.” There’s a web page that boasts twenty different selections. Might as well give it a look.

___________________________________________________________________________________

She’s nearly home when her phone dings with a text from Barnes. “Just got in. Forgot to get milk. Can you swing by on your way, or should I go to the gas station and pick up a gallon?” A frown forms on her face. It’s pretty rare that Bucky forgets things. Must’ve been a hell of a day at work, then. Either that, or his brain has completely turned to mush thanks to typing out field reports. Either way-

“I got it. See you in twenty.” She thinks about tacking on a “love you”, but the light turns green before she can.

The grocery store is packed thanks to so many people getting off work. There’s only three carts left, all with bad wheels. She chooses the least squeaky option and, grabbing an add on her way, heads into the grocery store. Milk, and if she remembers right from this morning, they’re running dangerously low on coffee and tea. Despite caffeine having absolutely no effect on their enhanced bodies, both of them are nightmares to be around in the mornings without their beverages of choice. Force of habit and all.

She’s halfway to the checkout when she sees it. A sign, decorated in garish shades of red, pink, and purple. “All Valentine’s Day chocolates 10% off.” Shit. Yeah, that is coming up. To tell the truth, she’d completely forgot all about that day halfway through February. For most of her life, it only meant giving homemade cards at school when most kids had store-bought. Then, once she reached adulthood, it was a reminder that she was destined to be alone. Who would want someone who’s on the run, and what’s more, sees the future? Once she and Barnes got together, it didn’t change much. That first Valentine’s Day, he mentioned the holiday, and she shut it down immediately. They were both broke (or at least, he had no legitimate way of making money while she was broke), and celebrating a mostly commercial holiday seemed like a waste. Plus, she didn’t want to put a strain on a new relationship. Over the years, the subject never came up again, and she’s content for it to stay a non-starter, thank you very much. In her opinion, you should show your partner you love them every day of the year, not shoe-horn it into one twenty-four hour period. Call her unromantic if you must.

She’s completely immune to the various displays of cheap chocolate in heart-shaped boxes and overly sentimental cards as she approaches the register and starts to unload her items. Milk. Tea. That one specific brand of coffee that he likes because, “It tastes like what we drank in basic training. Terrible, but I kinda got used to it, so now everything else tastes like it’s trying too hard.” whatever that means. He’s right; she’s tasted it, and it’s fucking awful. Still, every morning, he drinks at least three cups while she drains her pot of tea.

“You got a hot date for Valentine’s Day, hun?” The cashier asks her, never breaking her rhythm as she rings up the items.

She chuckles. “As a matter of fact, yes.” The cashier’s eye go wide, and she holds up her left hand. “And every other day.”

“Ooh, nice. How long have you been together?”

“Nine years.” Wait… “Or four years, depending on which of us you ask. He blipped, I stayed.”

The cashier nods. “So are you older than him now?”

Physically? They’re not completely sure, but if you calculate the times he was off the ice with HYDRA and add that to the age he was before the serum, then they’re not far off. But chronologically- “No, he’s still older.” And yes, it will always be funny that Sam responds with “Okay, boomer” whenever Bucky makes an outdated reference (even if he’s off by a good twenty years).

With a little more light chatter, she pays for her items and leaves. Now, for home.

As soon as she opens the front door, she’s greeted by their dog, Sarge, barking excitedly and hopping around like he’s on a trampoline despite missing a leg. Bucky’s not far behind, placing a quick peck on her forehead before taking the bags from her and unloading them in the kitchen. Tonight’s his night to cook, but unless her nose has suddenly decided to give out, he hasn’t started dinner yet. She doesn’t mind taking over tonight, and when he sheepishly apologizes while she begins her preparations, she brushes it off. Although, for the second time in an hour, she’s seen proof of his unusual absentmindedness. Oh well. She’ll ask him about it later.

Despite being relieved from tonight’s chef duties, Bucky stays in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar scrolling through his phone as she cooks. His expression is neutral, which can mean one of two things; a) he’s just killing time and there aren’t any interesting posts or articles vying for his attention, or at the opposite end of the spectrum, b) he’s deep in thought, possibly angry, sad, or even frightened, but he’s gone into Winter Soldier mode and shut down so that she won’t pick up on his mood. Damn the man and his poker face.

Eventually dinner is served and she sends him off toward the fridge in search of two beers while she serves their plates. Just as she’s spooning a generous helping of salad into her bowl, it happens. A vision, but a limited one. All she’s seeing is a phone. Well, that and the hand holding it. She’s not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed that she immediately recognizes the hand as Bucky’s, but that goes by the wayside as she takes in the article he’s reading. “Should you do something for Valentine’s Day even is she says no?” It’s a thread on some anonymous discussion board. The reply that has his attention is in reference to a now divorced individual who “was dumb enough to believe that, on our first V-Day as a married couple, she didn’t want anything.” Oh boy. Not good. This will be their first Valentine’s Day since exchanging vows, and if the fact that he’s read this reply (if not already read, will read soon) means that it’s at least crossed his radar that she might be feeding him bullshit. That’s not the case, but after his research, she knows from experience that no matter how much she tries to convince him otherwise, a small part of his mind will be stuck on, “But what if this is a big deal?” Which means-

“Doll, are you just gonna stand there with the salad tongs in your hand?” That snaps her out of it.

“No. Just a vision.” He frowns as she passes him his plate.

“Anything important happen?” Should she say?

“No.” She’s not sure if the smile or not, so she takes a bite from her roll to cover it. “Random sneak peek.” It’s not a lie. What she saw really isn’t important. Still, if he’s in that mindset, she should probably go on and do something for him just in case. After all, why should it only be the ladies who reap this holiday’s benefits?

___________________________________________________________________________________

Not flowers. That’s the one thing that, after copious amounts of research Bucky is one hundred percent certain about. They may still be a common romantic gift, but since they were also a go-to back when he was courting girls in the 1940s, it’s safe to say they’ve been overdone. Plus, he doesn’t really want to remind her of that time she had such a severe allergic reaction to the flowers he picked her on a walk through the park in Bucharest that her eyes nearly swelled shut and she sneezed herself sick. That doesn’t exactly seem like prime romance.

Chocolates or other candies have the same issues as flowers. Contrived and predictable. A bottle of wine is nice, but neither of them can so much as get mildly tipsy thanks to the super serum. The fourteenth is his day to cook, so he guesses he could do some reading and try to create something a little more special than spaghetti (he thought about going to a nice restaurant for dinner, but there’s a few issues with that, not the least of which is they’re likely to be recognized without their disguises, and he’d rather not look at his wife through sunglasses on Valentine’s day), but that seems a little underwhelming.

As he loads the dishwasher (she fell asleep half-way through the third episode of whichever nonsensical comedy they’re watching this week, so he sneaked back downstairs to clean up the dinner dishes), he thinks back to the dozen separate articles he read on the subject of Valentine’s Day gifts. Jewelry was a common theme, but that’s out. She’ll say thank you to his face, but worry about the cost behind his back. Plus, he has absolutely no idea what she’d like, and there’s no sense in purchasing something only for her to hate it.

Another common one was lingerie. Bucky almost choked on his tongue when he saw some of the examples given with that option. None of it looked comfortable (in fact, he’s still scratching his head about how you even put on one of the pieces that popped up on the web page) and he doesn’t want to give her the impression that she has to dress up for him. Even putting all that aside, he has no idea what size she’d even wear. He likes to think that he knows his wife pretty well, but somehow, in all their years together, it never occurred to him to ask her for her clothing sizes. That, and have you even seen the bra sizing system? Does it make sense to anyone, because to Bucky, it’s all gibberish. 32 B? 36 DD? What the hell? Somehow, when HYDRA was training him to extract information, they failed to go over the translation of a woman’s bra size. He supposes he could ask, but he’s not sure there’s a non-suspicious way to work, “Hey, sweetheart. What size are your breasts?” into casual conversation.

Sam said to get creative, so he tried to think outside the box. What’s something she really needs? A new vacuum cleaner is the first thing to come to mind, but he’s not stupid enough to think that would make a good gift. He knows she’s had her eye on a set of throwing stars, but that doesn’t seem to correlate well with what this holiday is all about. That’ll keep until her birthday.

He’s still wracking his brain for anything at all that might work when he feels a wet nose poking at his hand. Sarge. “Hey, boy. Has your mom gone to bed?” The response is a quiet “woof” and lick to his palm. He scratches the mutt behind the ears, smiling to himself as Sarge’s back leg thumps at the treatment.

“What do you think we should get our girl? Huh?” There’s no reply (of course not, he’s talking to a dog), but he nods, pretending all the same that Sarge has offered up a suggestion. “A bone. Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s her thing. Try again.” The dog blinks at him lazily. “No, you’re the one who wants new tennis balls. Not Mom. Although you’re right about her liking peanut butter.” At this rate, he might as well get her a bone and some tennis balls, because he’s sure not coming up with any ideas.

She likes music. The thought pops into his head while he’s brushing his teeth. All sorts of music. Over the years, he’s tried to make sense of the songs he’s heard her listen to, but has yet to find a discernible pattern in her listening habits. She doesn’t seem to stick to just one genre or era. More like she picks songs by how they relate to what she’s feeling at the moment. Wait a second-

“A mixtape.” His reflection mouths the words back at him. Despite technology having moved on from the days of burning CDs, she still has a thick stack of the disks stored in a cabinet and plays them on the regular. He’s even seen a few that she made herself, pasting together the songs she likes to make a “Cleaning mix”, “Workout Mix” and “Pissed off Mix”. Bucky’s sure he could figure out how to burn a CD, but it’s not like she’d be able to listen to that everywhere she went. That leaves a playlist. She uses one of those apps to listen to music on her phone, right? Surely he can put something together for her using that.

Quietly, he climbs into bed next to his sleeping wife and pulls her back against his chest, slinging one arm over her waist as usual. He closes his eyes, but his mind is alight with activity. A playlist. Of course. He’ll put some extra effort into whatever he cooks that night, stop by a bakery and pick up some sweet treats for dessert. Hell, maybe they’ll both dress up and act like they’re on a date. Then, once they’re sitting down to their meal, he’ll pull out his phone and hit play. It’s perfect. At least, he hopes it is.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Putting on a lacy bra and panties set underneath her regular work attire seemed like a brilliant idea this morning. Today’s a short day; she’s only got three classes to teach, and Rhodey called last night to tell Bucky that he’s suspending work hours at three pm “Since most people have holiday preparations to make.” Her plan was to be waiting on the sofa in the living room when he arrives home, professional button-down blouse open just enough for him to get a good look at what’s underneath, pencil skirt pushed up enough to reveal the stockings and garters she’s donned for the occasion. It’s fun, with just enough cheesiness to match this whole holiday. And, well, it’s a guarantee that by the end of the night they’ll be in bed together, both rumpled, sweaty, and satisfied. Perfect, right?

Wrong. On her drive to work, her skimpy underwear began to ride up, giving her a wedgie, and there was no way to adjust without running the risk of wrecking. She was so distracted by her discomfort that she missed her exit, and by the time she arrived at the college, she was running so behind that she didn’t get the chance to run to the bathroom and readjust. Her lecture on sentence diagrams was pure torture before the underwire from her bra decided to join in the fun and poke her directly in the ribs, but with that addition, she was especially impatient with her students’ tendency to joke around a little too much in class.

Luckily, she had just enough time to wrap the exposed metal bit in tissues before her next class, which eliminated the pain in her chest, but did nothing to alleviate the discomfort once her stockings began to slide down, having at some point disconnected themselves from the garters. She taught like that for the next two classes, but as soon as they were over, she pealed the whole ensemble off in the teacher’s restroom and changed into her gym clothes. Alright, screw the whole seduction routine. She needs to blow off some steam and fast, or else she’ll be in a bad mood all night.

That’s why, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in the training room of the Avengers compound, working over a punching bag. “Fuck-” Her fist connects, making the bag swing crazily from it’s hook. “-this- whole- day!” It goes sailing, and she feels a little better.

“Ouch!” The voice comes from behind her and she whirls around, gaze resting on-

“Sam.” The man in question holds up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture.

“Don’t shoot! I come in peace.” Rolling her eyes, she holds up her middle finger, receiving a snicker in acknowledgment.

“Just working off a little frustration before I head home.”

“Good.” Sam chuckles. “’cause otherwise, I’d be worried that when Barnes pulls out his dick tonight, you’ll bite it off.” She thinks about telling him that there’s no chance of that, but she might just cut off his if he crosses her. However, that jogs her memory.

“Has he left yet?” Sam nods.

“About an hour ago. Said he had to pick up groceries.” Shit. There goes her plan to shower, throw the damn lingerie back on and proceed as planned.

Bidding Sam a hasty reply, she makes tracks towards her car and, once inside, heads for home. Fine. New plan. She’ll shower once she arrives and then when the evening is drawing to a close, wait for him in bed. Nodding to herself, she puts the car in park and climbs out. Now, to psych herself up enough in the next few hours to put the damn lingerie back on.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Where did he go wrong? It takes all of Bucky’s self control not to spit out the spoonful of sauce he just tasted. This was supposed to be an easy recipe for Chicken Alfredo (or at least, that’s what the website boasted; he should’ve known better than to get his information from the internet and stuck to a good old-fashioned cookbook from the library). Not… whatever the hell this is. Maybe even if the sauce is nauseating, the chicken is okay?

He pulls open the oven door, and immediately smoke billows out, making his eyes water. Okay, chicken’s a little well-done. Who is he kidding? Black. The chicken is burned black. And the pasta… he lifts the pot lid and stirs, only to come to the realization that the pasta is completely stuck to the bottom of the pot. Wonderful.

It’s inevitable; over the years, he’s had his fair share of cooking disasters, but usually he does okay. Tonight though… who the hell up there did he piss off, because the only explanation for how badly this is going is his karma coming due.

Still holding the offending spoon, he looks over at Sarge, who’s staring at him, long pink tongue sticking out as he pants. “Trust me, boy. You don’t want any of this.” There has to be something else he can pull together on short notice. Normally he’d be worried that she’s running late without so much as a text, but today he’s relieved. At least if she’s running behind he’ll have time to… what? Maybe order takeout? Before she gets-

“I’m home.” Shit.

Sarge yips, shaking with excitement, and starts towards the kitchen door, then turns back, uncertain. “Go on. I know you’re dying to jump on her and lick her face.” Something they really should be training out of him because he’s getting too big for that sort of behaviour but, well… there’s a reason they call them “puppy dog eyes.”

Not needing to be coaxed, the dog takes off, tripping a little in the momentary lapse in his memory that he’s a tripod, but easily catches himself and goes on his merry way, leaving Bucky to clean up his mess. From the sound of things, a game of fetch is going on in the living room, so she should be distracted for a while.

He manages to pour the sauce down the drain and scrape most of the pasta into the trash while Sarge is acting as a decoy, but there’s absolutely no way he can dispose of the chicken without tipping her off (damn enhanced senses, it’s a wonder she hasn’t already smelled it). Finally, he decides to just go for it. She’s going to notice whether he throws it out now or two hours from now. Might as well get a head start on cleaning.

Sure enough, not ten seconds after he empties out the oven, he catches a movement in his peripheral vision, and the familiar sound of her breathing tips him off that he’s no longer alone.

“Hey, Doll.”

“Hey, Bucky. Did something burn in here, or-” He holds up the pan for her inspection before continuing his scraping.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah.” He slams the lid back on the trashcan and turns on the tap, intent on rinsing out the pan. “Another is whoever the god of culinary arts is has it in for me today.”

She chuckles. “You know, that would be funnier if we didn’t actually know a god.”

“Yeah, but he’s in control of thunder.” He meets her eyes, smirking slightly. “Although it did look like I electrocuted the bird.” Her lips quirk up into a smile, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her, cupping the back of her head gently to hold her in place when she tries to move away, muttering something about being sweaty.

He’s not entirely sure how it happened, but by the time they come up for air, her back his pressed against the wall and he’s got her pinned in place. Not that he’s complaining.

“Anyone ever tell you that the tip of your nose turns pink after you’ve been kissed?’ Her cheeks go rosey in response.

“I think so. One guy did. I told him it’s only when I’m kissed properly.”

He really would like to continue the playful banter, but there’s still the small matter of whatever it is they’re going to eat.

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

“Apart from electrocuted chicken?” He responds with a swat to her ass, which earns him a snicker. “Let’s keep it simple. Pizza. Your choice of toppings.” Right, that’s easy enough. Plus, if they have to wait longer than thirty minutes, it’s free.

“Okay. I’ll order while you shower?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He’s just pulled up the menu on his phone when the sound of her clearing her throat attracts his attention. She’s standing in the doorway, combing through her freshly let down hair with her fingers, a playful look in her eyes.

“Or you could join me. Just a mild suggestion.”

Dinner can wait for a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The Brooklyn townhouse they live in has many nice features. There’s a functional if small screened in back porch, big enough to hold a table for two and a grill. Two bedrooms, on the off chance someone from work needs to crash for a night or two. A kitchen with a dishwasher. A working fireplace. Good closet space. And an en suite bathroom.

Maybe it’s a little ridiculous to call a bathroom luxurious, especially when, in comparison to what’s featured in many brownstones, it’s more than modest, but she can’t help but think of it as such. There’s a double sink so that in the morning rush to get ready, Bucky’s able to shave and brush his teeth without having to wait for her to finish applying her makeup. Shelving above the toilet makes certain that even if the last person to shower took the towel with them, another one is on hand. Speaking of the shower, it’s not the largest one in the world, but both of them can fit in comfortably at the same time, which is what’s lead to their current situation.

She’s just finished allowing the water to course over her body, easing the sweat from her skin, and is about to begin the process of washing her hair, scrubbing her body, but she hesitates. She might as well ask. It’s only practical after all.

“Do you want to start now or get cleaned up and have dinner beforehand?” It’s obvious what she’s referring to, so she doesn’t bother to spell it out.

His brown knits, and if she didn’t know him as… intimately… as she does, she’d actually believe he’s confused.

“Oh, so you’re just assuming there’s gonna be sex involved at some point tonight?”

She shrugs, wringing out her hair.

“Seemed like a safe enough bet.” She glances pointedly between the two of them. “After all, we’re already undressed. “

His laugh is a quiet huff, barely discernible over the sound of the water. “Then I’d say start now, have dinner, then go for round two. Sound about right to you?”

She nods. “Solid plan.”

“Then get over here.”

Unlike the welcome home kiss they shared not half an hour ago, this one is less tender, more electric. Hands twist in hair, bodies press together. Tongues begging for entrance quickly give way to teeth nipping at bottom lips, an unspoken sparring match for who’ll be in control this time around. Ultimately he wins, grasping her hips and lifting as she wraps her legs securely around his back.

There’s no need for prep; the teasing of their earlier words is foreplay enough. Back pressed against the wall, her body easily welcomes him in as she braces one arm against the glass shower doors for balance. Any concerns about slipping and falling wash away as they move together like so many times before. She’s sure her nails will leave marks on his back, fingertips digging in for purchase and it’s a guarantee her hips will be littered with fingerprints from his grip, but she can’t find it in her to care, and if the desperate, bruising kiss assaulting her lips is anything to judge from, neither can he.

“So damn good, Doll.” It’s panted against her neck. “Always. So damn perfect for me.” All she can manage is a moan in response.

She feels him twitch inside of her and knows he’s close. So is she, but she can’t quite get there without-

As if he’s read her mind, he reaches between them to touch her where she needs it most, and on instinct, she readjusts, locking her arm around his neck to stay in place. “Let go, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” She couldn’t disobey if she wanted to.

“Fuck.” As her walls contract around him, he pulls out just in time to paint her middle with his release.

“That’s one word for it.” She’s still fighting to catch her breath, but she shoots him a shaky smirk, which he returns.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Barnes.” Snickering, she releases him to stand on unsteady legs and pecks his legs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Barnes.” Maybe there’s something to this holiday after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“You want the last slice?” Bucky considers it for a moment before deciding-

“Nah. You can have it.” It may not be exactly what he planned, but it’s been a good night. Between the two of them, they’ve gone through two large pizzas while watching the new version of Beauty and the Beast (she rolled her eyes when he asked if this was her way of saying he reminds her of a certain hairy, horned character) in their pajamas.

“No, really. You take it. I don’t want it.” She nudges the mostly-empty pizza box towards him. The noise makes Sarge lift his head from where he was snoozing beside her on the sofa. That gives him an idea.

“I don’t want it either, but I can think of someone who does.” He cocks his head towards the now-drooling dog. “How ‘bout it, boy? Wanna help us out?”

Snickering, she picks the pepperonis and pieces of sausage and ham from the pizza, forming a pile. “Here, Sarge. Catch.” She tosses a coveted treat in the air, and Sarge’s jaw snaps, swallowing it whole. “Good boy.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“You know, I actually did have something planned for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She nods.

“Absolutely. Had a whole seduction plan laid out. Tiny underwear, lacy bra, and stockings with garters included.” Huh. Guess she wouldn’t have taken the “lingerie” option the wrong way. He’ll file that away for future use… along with a mental note to ask her bra size. “That is, until I tried wearing the damn things for longer than an hour. Turns out, hiding a dirty secret under your clothes is more itchy than sexy.”

He can’t help it. He laughs, producing a pout from her which quickly turns into her own quiet laughter.

“Well, that fits in perfectly with my fancy dinner going up in smoke.”

“We really do have shitty luck with the whole “romance” thing.” She’s joking, but he decides to respond anyway.

“I don’t know about that.” Entwining his fingers with hers, he lifts their hands, twin wedding bands catching the light. “You waited five years for me to reappear after the blip, and I convinced you to elope with me. Seems pretty romantic.” Although, that reminds him…

“Don’t move.” Releasing her hand, he stands and goes in search of his phone.

“Bucky, what-”

“Don’t move, Doll. Stay right where you are.” Ah. On the kitchen counter, just where he left it. Jogging back into the room, he resumes his place on the couch next to her. Ignoring her questioning gaze, he pulls up the app and, selecting the correct playlist, hits play.

Immediate recognition blooms on her face at the opening lyrics. “She is the sweetest thing that I know. Should see the way she holds me when the lights go low.” He’s not one for modern music, but when he was googling “songs for Valentine’s Day” and this one popped up, he couldn’t help but think that the lyrics were fitting.

“I didn’t know you’d heard this one.”

He chuckles. “Even old men have a few tricks up their sleeves. That, and a wifi connection.” She rolls her eyes but leans closer, which he takes advantage of to show her the playlist.

“This is the app you use, right?” Receiving a nod, he continues. “Feel free to scroll through and add whatever you want. I haven’t listened to all of them the whole way through, but they seemed to fit the mood.”

Her hand closes over his, covering the phone. “Thank you, Bucky. It’s perfect.”

As the singer goes on about how hearts don’t break around here, he presses his lips against hers.

“I love you, Doll.”

“Love you.”

Not bad for a disastrous Valentine’s Day. Not bad at all.

#marvel #the avengers #bucky fanfic #bucky x original female character #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier #bucky barnes smut #smut #fluff

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i-may-be-stupit · 3 years

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Shigaraki x Silly!Reader

As usual, this is rather gender-neutral and the horny got me because I fukn love Shiggy 🥵😍 but yeah, enjoy!

You typed up a report of the latest incident between Endeavor and the league of Villains. Well, actually, you were just editing your boss's writing. She was a journalist and you were her assistant. You rolled your eyes, reading through it and fixing any grammar mistakes or typos you came across. Why the hell is she making Endeavor seem so god damn perfect? I mean, when you first met him, you told the guy a joke and he hasn't stopped glaring at you ever since. You rolled your eyes at just the thought of that fuck-faced jackass.

Not only were you the editor, but you were also the secretary in the news office building which is a whole different job as it is. You blew a bubble from your gum and turned your music in your earbuds up a bit more, since the day was going slow. Yeah, there'd be a scoop here and there but not a lot.

You looked up to see a guy with red eyes and a black hoodie grinning evily while saying stuff to you. You just stared at him until he finished talking. He looked at you and you looked at him. You spat your gum in a tissue then took out your earbuds. You smiled softly at the man. "I'm sorry, you said you wanted a visitors' pass?"

The man looked at you with a blank stare at first. "You didn't hear anything I just said?" You shook your head. He frowned and tilted his head in annoyance, "I was talking for like 3 minutes straight." You just blinked. "I just explained my whole reasoning for kidnapping you for information on Endeavor."

You smiled at him, "Im sorry sir, I'm just the secretary, but the information desk is on floor three, just take that elevator to the right and-"

"What the fuck, bitch?!" He opened his arms wide in anger, "Do you not recognize me from the news?!"

You put a finger on your chin and tapped it in thought for a moment, before clicking your tongue and snapping your finger, "Ah, you must be a pro hero or something!" His jaw dropped. "Wow, no wonder youre so handsome!" You took the bottle of lotion out of your desk's drawer and offered him some. "If you're going on an interview you could use some of this though!" He glared at you before snapping his fingers, and thats when you found out who he is.

The entire League of villains showed up and your eyes widened in fear. The man known as Shigaraki Tomura laughed harshly with a gleam in his eyes, "Recognize me yet, (Y/N) (L/N)?!"

You stared at him again in fear. You then snorted, "Hank the handy man?" And thats when he lunged at you, only for Shigaraki to fall into one of Kurogiri's portals. You laughed with tears in your eyes as the burnt up goth boy snickered. Kurogiri elbowed Dabi and Dabi wiped away a bloody tear in his own eye as he held your arms behind your back.

Dabi chuckled quietly in your ear a small, "You gotta teach me some insults if you live." And you snorted as you consentualy walked into a portal, not even mad at being kidnapped.

You were in what seemed to be a lounge area, seated on a chair with your arms handcuffed to the back of you. You looked around, innocently smiling, "Wowie, nice place you guys got here!" Spinner looked at Dabi confused as you started humming. "So, uh, whatcha need me for?"

Mange spoke up, "Wait, how are you so calm about this?"

You chuckled, "Hey, this chair is comfy, I'm off from work now, and I got to see a cute guy up-close and personal!"

Dabi looked at you with a straight face. "No thank you."

You rose an eyebrow at him, "Dont flatter yourself, Rat, I'm talking about the one that tried to kill me." Shigaraki walked into the room, slightly pissed off as Kurogiri rubbed his back. "There he is! The handsome one!"

Shigaraki glared at you. "Don't patronize me." You were about to speak, but he cut you off before even getting the chance, "You're working with Yuki Ino, the Journalist who's been interviewing pro heros, including Endeavor." You nodded, not understanding if that was supposed to be taken as a question or not. "Tell me everything about what's happened to All Might, why he retired, and how to end Endeavor, including the Pro-heros' plans to take down my organization."

You stared at him for a good minute before sneezing, "Sorry, what did you say? I disasociated."

Shigaraki twitched before scratching his neck violently. "What do you know about the number 1 pro hero?!"

"What?!" You looked at him in utter confusion. "I cant even remember what I had for breakfast, how the fuck do you expect me to remember anything about Enslaver?"

The red eyed male scratched his neck faster. "Endeavor."

You looked in even more confusion, "What the fuck is that?"

Shigaraki pulled you by your shirt closer to him in pure anger, "His hero name! Its Endeavor, not Enslaver!"

You blushed and fluttered your lashes, "Wow, the way your crimson gems glisten even in such dim lighting is so mesmerizing..." You puckered your lips and moved forward, but Shigaraki just let go of your shirt in utter disgust.

"I dont speak Wattpad."

You smiled at him happily, "I mean, I know that I should be scared because you're hella intimidating, but geez louis, your eyes are pretty! If you don't end up killing me can I be your boo thang?" You grinned and thats when he lunged at wwnnaqqa again, only for Kurogiri to put himself in front of you, again, so Shigaraki just fell into his portal, again.

Kurogiri just quietly mumbled out a small, "Lets take a break." Before going to the bar and throwing back a shot of some alcohol.

Later:

Shigaraki crossed his arms in front of the League with you in another room. "She was trying to seduce me like a slut to get out of death! Playing with my emotions?! Like I'm an ,idiot?! How dare she?!"

rtserrr

Dabi sat back, watching as Toga practiced her knife throwing on Twice. The burt man shrugged nonchalauntly, "She seemed legit to me."

Toga and Twice both nodded with a little, "Mhm," as Toga threw a knife at an apple on Twice's head.

Shigaraki just frowned. "Have you people seen me?" They all stopped what they were doing, looked at their boss and then put their hands up to their faces while cringing.

Kurogiri walked in, dragging you in a chair behind him. He placed you right in front of Shigaraki and you smiled awkwardly at him, "Sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable, Mister Shigaraki, I just can't help myself when I see a cute guy like you, though!" You giggled and shrugged as Twice awed at the nonexistent budding romance.

Shigaraki looked at you with disgust and concern. "You seriously think that I'm cute?"

You tilted your head cutely with a small smile"That's why I asked you out, what the hell?" You chuckled softly and Shigaraki blushed with a frown as he stared at you.

He scratched at his neck, took a shot of alcohol and sighed. "Just tell me everything you know about Endavor, okay?"

You frowned deeply with a small groan, "Ugh! He's kinda a asshole! I told him "Good morning, Teletubby Sun" and he just glarred really hard at me!" You frowned and pouted before mumbling out a small, "I mean, it was just a joke..."

Shigaraki pinched the bridge of his nose in utter frustration while Dabi fucking died of laughter in the background, "Anything actually important?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Hey! That's totally important!"

A weak, hourse, "it is!" came from Dabi and you grinned.

"See, he gets it!"

He glared daggers into you and got closer to your face. "Do you not understand the danger you're in?" He snarled. "I can kill you right now if you dont submit."

You poked your lips out jokingly before giggling out, "I get it, but who's to say I don't wanna die?" You winked at him.

Shigaraki stared at you calmly, not leaving your goofy grin. "Everyone out of the room. Now." And everyone did as they were told and left, all praying for you.

Shigaraki silently cut your restraints and you started rubbing your wrists while smiling, "Thank you! You know, that was starting to hurt-"

He grabbed you by your hair and flung you onto the floor. The wind was knocked out of you and to make matters worse, he placed a foot on your chest, glarring down at you. "This isn't a game, you stupid fucking cunt." Shigaraki laughed darkly, seeing your jokester smile twist into a horrified grit as you struggled to breath. "I mean, are you dumb or something?! Your worthless life is on the line and you really couldn't care less?! "His hands covered his mouth, holding back another laugh, though you could hear it in his voice, "You're so fucking pathetic, I don't even feel like wasting my time killing you~!" He pushed his foot down harder.

You gasped for air, clawing at his foot to pry it off. "S-Shigaraki, sir-" A crack was echoed as he pushed his foot down harder on your now broken sternum. You scream out as tears fell from your face from the pain, "Please, p-please remove your f-foot..."

Shigaraki only laughed harder, cupping a hand over his cheek, ring finger raised, "Oh all of a sudden you care about your life, huh?" He straddled you, pinning you down with your wrists in one hand, and your neck in his other. "You think you can just flirt with me like the little slut you are and get off Scott free, huh?" You choked and Shigaraki drew closer to your ear, "Where's that attitude gone now, huh? Oh, can you not speak anymore? Tell me, please, how many dicks have you taken already. How the hell did you get a job," his face scrunched up in fury, "at a god damn Hero News agency without knowing shit about any heros, huh?! You probably slept with everyone there. Didnt you? Flirting with them to get what you want just like with me?"

Your face was hot and you were crying and choking at his words and actions, "N-No! That's not-" you gasped hard, unable to breath properly, "not me at all!"

Shigaraki loosened his grip on your neck. He glarred deep into your soul. "Then why the hell were you flirting with me back there? I'm not dumb, (Y/N), I'm a very fucking capable man!"

You smiled awkwardly, thankful that you could breath a little better. "I just think you're HANDsome!" Shigaraki's cheeks tinted pink as he glared at you. He let his grip go completely as you choked and coughed before looking up with a smile, "And this position... w-with you on top of me is really lewd, so can you maybe..." You trailed off as he just stared harder at you.

Shigaraki blinked, expressionless. "I'm pinning you down on the verge of killing you and the only think you can think of is getting fucked by me?" You looked away, struggling a bit with the feeling of awkwardness and arousal. He smirked, feeling your neck get hotter. "You really are a little fucking whore aren't you?" And with that, he softly kissed your lips.

Your face went hot as you looked up at him. "What was that for?" He kissed you again, this time longer. "S-shigaraki..." You pouted and looked away. "Theres something I should tell you..."

"Hm?" He tilted his head with a smirk, waiting for you to tell him that you're still a virgin.

"You shouldve taken my lotion earlier." You laughed out and he started choking you again. "Joking- J- Joking!" Shigaraki glarred down at you before tongue kissing you much more rough. You moaned as it thrashed against your tongue, saliva dripping out the side of your mouth. Shigaraki bit your lip softly before dragging his tongue down your chin and onto your neck. He licked and sucked on it as you bit your bottom lip. Tomura came back up and tongue kissed you for only a second before grabbing your shirt with all five fingers. You gasped and covered up your bra. "H-Hey! Gentlemen ask for permission first!" You frowned and he just grabbed you by your jaw.

He mocked you with a fake pouty voice, "Oh, that's my bad for not being a fucking gentleman. Can I pwease fuck you??" Tomura rolled his eyes, "Now shut the fuck up and let me suck on your nipples." Shigaraki's mouth immediately locked with your left nipple as his fingers played with your right. He laughed, hearing you softly mumble his name. His mouth left your chest with a small pop and he looked down at you with a smirk, "Dont be shy saying my name, (Y/N); I'm gonna need you to get used to screaming it anyways." And with that, he licked his lips then placed his tongue on your torso, dragging it all the way down to your work pants.

He decenigrated your pants and underwear happily. Shigaraki brought his face to your slit and took a hard lick, a finger shoving itself inside of your tight hole. You moaned loudly, confused. "Tomura, a warning next time!?" He just pumped his finger inside of you slowly as his tongue played with your privates. You moaned while holding his head down on you, your fingers twisted in his hair, as he sucked you off like a cherry. You panted heavily and he stuck another finger in you. Shigaraki then lifted his head off you.

"I'd warn you that time, but you're kind of suffocating me, so maybe, don't fucking push down so hard!" You frowned and just pushed his head back in between your thighs. He kissed and licked more, groaning whenever you'd thrust into his mouth deeper. Shigaraki chuckled at how you'd only get quiet when hes making you moan.

You shivered and groaned, coming closer and closer to your climax. Shigaraki noticed and immediately pulled off of you. He wipped his mouth with the back of his hand and grabbed you by the hair. "Alright, slut, you've had your fun." He pulled you towards him and you fell on the floor, right in front of his groin. Tomura sat, grinned down at you with one leg up, "You gonna just stare or are you sucking me off?"

You rolled your eyes before pulling his pants and boxers down. Oh wow, you were not expecting this... You put a hand over your mouth and blushed hard. He was only semi hard and already a good 8 inches, what the hell?? It was thin, but long, kind of like the rest of him.

Shigaraki frowned down at you, blushing hard, "What? Is something wrong with it?? I-I've never done this before, asshole, so stop making me feel bad!"

You felt a smile rise onto your lips. Is he... getting flustered? You chuckled and looked up at him, pumping slowly, "It's just intimidating." You licked the tip and gulped, feeling a bit nervous, "But, I'll try to take it all in, okay?"

You placed your lips on his tip and suck it as your hands jerked him off. He groaned, grabbing your head with 4 fingers. You gradually took more and more into your mouth, using your hands for whatever didn't fit. You bobbed your head up and down on him, speeding up. Shigaraki groaned your name.

"F-Fuck, Y/N, you really know what you're doing!" He pressed his hand on the back of your head harder, forcing more of him into you. You gagged and choked as Tomura just laughed, "God, you're taking it all in like a good little sex slave, aren't you?" You moaned at the name and shigaraki shuttered, "Mm, your moans feel so fucking good on my cock!" He breathed harder, "Fuck, Y/N, I need you to touch yourself while sucking me." You brought your hand to your slit and rubbed at it, moaning. Shigaraki groaned, "Fuck, Just like that!"

You gagged and moaned on his dick, feeling it twitch in your mouth. A lewd little 'pop' echoed in the room as you let off. Shigaraki frowned and you gave him a cheeky grin, "No sticky icky for you!" He groaned in annoyance.

"God, why are you like this?!?" He grabbed your arm and threw you roughly on the bed. Before you knew it, Shigaraki was already inside of you. Your face went hot as he fucked you doggy style.

You screamed, "A warning!!! We've been over this!!!" He responded with a slap on your ass.

Tomura rode your ass, grinding into you and groaning while doing it. "Fuck off, Y/N, you're a horny mess just like me, dumbass!" You screamed his name as his thrusts became faster and deeper. Shigaraki pulled both of your wrists back and down, making you kneel, your back pressed against his chest as he fucked into you. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight..." Shigaraki sloppily kissed your neck. You breathed harder as his dick hit the spot over and over. Shigaraki flipped you over onto your back. You laid underneath him as he paused. Tomura blushed harder and looked away, "I-I wanna really savor this..." he smirked, glaring in your eyes, "Plus I wanna know what you look like, full of my cum!"

You were flustered and giggling, "Its the ✨mood switch✨ for me-"

Tomura placed a hand over your mouth, "No. You just lost your speaking privileges."

Shigaraki grinded into you slowly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool seeped from your lips. Shigaraki held your waist, pulling you whenever he's press himself deep inside of you. You were speechless from the pleasure. You moaned and whined as his body slowly moved with yours.

You pressed the back of your hand to your face, feeling a bit embarrassed at the change of atmosphere. It was so easy to just enjoy him fucking you silly and laughing and everything, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel any other emotion rather than pleasure muxed in with something new.

Shigaraki placed his forehead against yours and breathed harder, "I-I'm getting there, Y/N..." He let out a breathy moan and your legs shaked. Tomura kissed you softly as well. "A-Ah, you're almost there t-too, right?"

You nodded, feeling a knot in your stomach. You moaned and Shigaraki pulled out, cumming all over you. You moaned, climaxing too.

You were covered in cum and panting. You couldn't even find words to say. It just felt so good. Shigaraki cuddled up to you. He smiled and kissed your cheek. "I'm giving you your speaking privileges back now." You stayed silent, your face hot. It was hard for you to be serious, but God damn. Tomura looked at you a bit concerned, "You okay-"

"That was amazing."

He looked surprised before laughing hard. "Did I really leave you speechless?" You nodded, silently. Shigaraki kissed your lips, "That sucks because, even though you're annoying, I kinda like you."

Your eyes widened. He liked your jokes and stupid comments?! Your mouth became ajar. "I-I..." You just closed your mouth, staring at him.

Shigaraki placed his arm over you. He smiled, "Lets hang out tomorrow."

You smiled back.

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marewriteblr · 5 years

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Traits And Quirks For Characters In Fantasy (list)

idk if I’m the only one, but when creating characters for my wips, I like to google lists of traits and quirks to give a bit more depth to them. and since I mostly write fantasy, I thought my characters deserved some more fantasy-related traits and quirks, so here’s a list of 150+ traits and quirks for characters in a fantasy setting!! hope it helps some of you too

has tattoos that keep changing

bad vision—takes magical potion to see clearly

addicted to magical food or drink

weird things happen when they laugh, sneeze, cough…

sees things that aren‘t there—or are they?

speaks in rhymes

has a wandering scar

has a wound that never stops bleeding

shows symptoms of a curse but pretends to not know how they got it

physical signs when lying, eg hair growing unnaturally fast

can summon any mythical creature easily

has a mythical creature for a pet

brings a slight breeze with them whenever they enter a room

was dead once

refuses to eat certain type of food for no specific reason as though it were amoral or inethical

obsession with a particular period in history

obsession with a magical creature/species

doesn‘t dance or make music because weird things happen

haunted by a ghost, their best companion

always has a candle lit (eg for their ghost companion)

can speak a mystery language only very few people understand

can turn the light of single stars on and off as they please

used to be part of a secret society

wears shoes with wings, no one knows if they actually work

can predict the future correctly for a ridiculous/bizarre reason

lives at court, no one knows why or where they came from but they let them stay

can only talk in questions or riddles

always seen reading spell books though they can‘t do magic

always seen reading books though they can‘t read. bonus if the reason for this is magical

tells everyone about the time they did something they‘ve certainly never done

tells everyone they used to be a dragon, is obviously lying

is actually blind, no one has noticed

never speaks, only talks to people telepathically, they’re used to it by now

has blood of unnatural colour, tells the weirdest stories of why that is—story changes every time

sacrificed 7 years of their life to magical creature who might claim them any minute

sacrificed a body part, determined to get it back

sacrificed their good looks

always learning spells by heart and seen using them the next day as though they’d prepared it for the occasion

has a secret identity, eg can do a certain type of magic and sneaks out to commit crimes/perform on stage/meet their companions…

keeps getting into trouble because people are convinced they have magic, but they don’t

belongs to a human/non-magical species but was kidnapped years ago and never went back

is actually a ghost

is immortal but doesn‘t know anything about history—can tell you all about the migration of dwarf antelopes on their continent throughout the centuries though

always corrects people on history/mythology facts with things they can‘t possibly know if they weren‘t there themselves

allergic to magic. bonus if they‘re a powerful wizard or deity

obsessed with knives and swords. you can fight them but they‘re more interested in the crafting of your blade

allergic to a certain spell and only that spell for no apparent reason

always has a certain item or food in their pocket in case they need to bribe a magical creature today

miscorrects others‘ pronunciation of spells and pronounces them wrong themselves (eg emphasis on wrong syllable)

talks in a fake elf accent to piss off elves

pretends to be a species they clearly aren’t judging by their appearance, and gets defensive when told so, calling people racist

gets themselves into trouble by trying to seduce nymphs when drunk. also an alcoholic

is cursed to never remember any names—has forgotten their real name a long time ago so no one can ever have that power over them

introduces themselves with a different name every time they meet someone

heavily worships an evil trickster god

ominously refers to themselves in third person

doesn‘t walk but jumps from roof to roof instead

predicts the future but is always horribly wrong

challenges people to a quest all the time

seems to know every person in the entire kingdom

seems to be enemies with every person in the entire kingdom

spends a lot of time in dimly-lit taverns seeking opponents for a strange board game

likes to look for bizarre monsters deep in the forest

talks to their dagger

talks too much during sword fights

gets involved in sword fights but only ever carries a paper sword with them

makes up crazy and hardly believable stories when asked about their past to hide their guilt

collects a particular type of item that can only be found on adventurous quests to dangerous places

has large horns on their head despite their species having no such thing, refuses to tell anyone why

never seen eating

never seen sleeping

takes every time anyone mentions something being hard or dangerous to do as a challenge to try it

wears an eyepatch solely for the looks of it

collects dangerous enchanted jewellery

random hissing

an excellent storyteller, like unnaturally excellent

politically involved and fights for giants‘ rights

has a finger that‘s mysteriously shorter than the others

is best friends with a demon

is nocturnal but loves sunlight

pretends to be completely resistant to pain

always sneaking around

has a tattoo that keeps dis- and reappearing

enchants people with their acting

has a wooden prosthesis

doesn‘t wear shoes

changes eye colour every day

wears gloves all the time and tells people it‘s for their safety

hears the trees talk to them

believes the apocalypse is near

pretends to be immortal

breaks into people‘s homes to steal food. no jewellery. only food

pins pressed flowers to their walls

believes that flowers grant wishes

has random visions of other people‘s pasts that aren‘t necessarily true but always get them into trouble

strongly believes in reincarnation

talks in a different accent every day

is convinced they are cursed

sees every minor conflict as a challenge to a sword fight

fights their battles using nothing but darts

is an archer and also blind or missing an arm

accidentally stabs themselves. a lot.

always carrying poison around „just in case“

is at fault for the fall of a mighty god

knows all about mythology

always up to date regarding drama and gossip between the gods

immediately scared they’re about to be cursed whenever someone raises their voice

still mourns over the death of a friend

whatever they touch breaks instantly

chews on their wand (definitely not a good idea)

always wears their hair tied up into a bun, is longer than rapunzel‘s when worn loose

brags they were good at picking locks but actually just hit it really hard until it breaks

accidental shapeshifting

still waiting for an ominous prophecy to foretell their destiny

makes weird/seemingly unnecessary bargains with strangers

has something slightly off about their appearance that makes people stop in their tracks to watch them

unhealthy obsession with cloaks

is a great fan of wizards. collects wands and hats like action figures

horses don‘t like them, they ride a wolf instead

sings the spells they use

constantly mumbling to themselves or someone others can‘t see

can duplicate themselves but can‘t do math so they‘re always a bit confused

has a leaf sticking to the back of their hand. don‘t ask them why

is a painter, travels very far to obtain a particular kind of paint

sketches their dreams in a book after they come to them at night

always seems to be charged with electricity

freckles on their cheeks dance when laughing or when light hits them

makes up prophecies and tells strangers about them

grows wings when high up due to fear of falling

gets arrested regularly for pranking nature spirits and deities

sneezes when using magic

insomniac, needs a particular spell or magical food/herb to fall asleep

magic makes them fall asleep (when they use it or when others use it nearby)

mixes the weirdest potions all day

can‘t eat spicy food, literally breathes fire

necromancy but only to revive their dead cat

turns the same colour of any food they eat

dreams of becoming a knight

horrible short term memory but can easily recite anything they read two centuries ago

makes their eye colour look white just to mess with people

can‘t remember spells for shit. says them incorrectly which always goes horribly wrong

terrible handwriting. bonus if they’re a messenger who has to send important letters on a daily, causing things to go very wrong

can correctly guess anyone‘s magical power on a scale from 1-10. is stupid enough to point it out aloud, too

wears cloaks that are way too long

carries a fake sword on their hip

carries way more weapons on them than necessary

uses their dagger as a toothpick

plays with dagger when thinking

supernaturally heavy sleeper

gets the different species mixed up a lot

tells everyone how many people they‘ve killed in their life

a die hard fan of a well-known assassin

a die hard fan of shakespeare‘s puck

desperately wants to be abducted by the fae

heavily affected by the phase of the moon

#this list will definitely be updated #but i thought i'd post it #since some might wanna use these #i certainly have already skskskk #writing resources #traits and quirks #characters #character development #worldbuilding #fantasy #top posts

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sunflowersunshinevol6 · 4 years

Text

My Way

Chapter Four

Warnings: kidnapping, substance abuse, psychological abuse, stockholm syndrome, physical abuse, violence

A/N: this chapter is pretty dark. Fair warning

Clara was propped on her elbows, head in hands, feet locked together, as she watched Harry lay out his ‘tools’ on the opposite bed. He had lifted a floorboard in the van, to reveal a box, filled with tons of weapons, some she didn’t even recognize. The tv played commercials in the background, neither of them were paying attention. Harry touched the tools gently, almost affectionately. It was strange to her. He began putting them, one by one into a duffel bag.

He had explained to her that sorting his tools was like pregame for him. Looking at them and thinking about what he'd use them for amped him up. It made her shudder.

“Keep the door locked. Don't answer it for anyone. I'll be back in a few hours,” Clara rolled over onto her back, sighing.She counts the tiles in the ceiling, she hasn’t had her meds in days and she can feel the tide coming in, the anxieties slowly creeping up, ready to drag her down again. “Clara?” Harry came to her, he leaned over her face “Princess,” he said gently, “what's wrong?” She wrinkled her nose.

“I'm not a princess,” she insisted. Harry chuckled.

“What's on your mind?”

“Its my meds,” she swallowed down the lump forming in her throat, “I've been off my medication for too long…..”

“For anxiety?” She nodded.

“And other things.”

“Are they over the counter or?”

“Doctor scripts.”

“What happens when you go off them?” Clarafurrowed her brow, she doesn't know how to describe it.

“It's not good,” she can see the wheels turning, as Harry tried to find a solution to Clara's current problem.

“I have a suggestion….but before I give it, I want to know what you want me to do.” Clara was taken aback by Harry's sudden thoughtfulness.

“I want you to stay,” she said honestly.

“Clara-” Harry warns.

“Please.”

“You know I can't.”

“Why not.”

“Because.” He was getting irritated. She continued.

“Because why?”

“You know why .” He growled.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I have a job to do.”

“Killing innocent people isn't a job, it's murder.”

“If I killed innocent people I would have killed you in that gas station a week ago.” he hissed standing up. He walked away from her, dragging a hand down his face, the room was silent, his words hanging in the air. “I don't kill good people. My family , doesn't kill good people.” He clarified, “We kill the scum of the earth. The evil fuckers that walk around free. Pedophiles, murderers, rapists, people like that. And you can say I'm a hypocrite, or whatever you want. But this is who I am. It's who I've always been. And I like it.” He glared at her, daring her to say something.

“So you’re like Batman.” she said after a while. He gave her a confused look, she sat up, turning to face him fully. “Like Batman. A Vigilante. You know, someone who takes the law into their own hands, cuz they think the law officials can’t or won’t do it.” Harry chewed on his tongue thoughtfully for a moment, before nodding.

“Batman….I like that. Yeah. We’re like Batman…...So since your idea isn't possible, would you wanna try mine?” she shrugged. “You ever smoke weed before?” he asked her. Clara shook her head. “figured,” he went into the bathroom, Clara heard him rummage around and when he came back out he had a little ceramic bowl in his hand and a lighter. He sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “If you're okay with this and you want to try it we will. It might help you relax, it works different for everyone. But it’s been known to treat anxiety and depression…..We can’t just go out and get your medicine so, this would be the next best thing."

“I want to.” Clara said in a small voice.

“We’re gonna do something called ‘shotgunning’. That's where I inhale the smoke and then blow it in your mouth, you inhale and hold, then release. Since it's your first time I don't want you to get too fucked up.” he raised the bowl in his hands, she didn’t like the way it smelled. It stunk. “If we do it my way I’ll be able to atleast kind of control the amount you take in. And since you’ve never done it before you won’t need much. Just a little hit to take the edge off and see how you like it. If I just let you straight up hit it you might go too hard and end up sitting in a corner too high to move.” she looked at him in horror. “It’s cool. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen to you, like it did to me my first time.” she nodded in understanding. “I’m only offering because I can’t have you running around here having a panic attack and drawing attention. You’re almost home free. Don’t want to ruin that now do we?”

“I guess not.”

“Good. Give me your hand.” Clara held out her hand and Harry took her thumb and first finger making an ‘o’ shape. He intertwined her three other fingers with his own and made the ‘o’ shape with his fingers. “When I start to lean in, you do it too, and I’ll blow the smoke through my hands into your mouth. Inhale as much as you can. Hold it for like, thirty seconds I guess, and then exhale. I’ll go slow.” Clara adjusted herself, sitting up on her knees. Harry brought the lit bowl to his lips and took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving Clara. She watched him, fascinated as he made a squeaking, sneezing sort of sound and closed his lips, holding his breath.

He leaned in and she pressed her fingers to her lips.

His breath was cool as it hit her parted lips, she inhaled, eyes beginning to water, and almost choking, it sort of burned. Harry breathed slow and she expanded her stomach until she couldn’t take anymore. She pulled away, releasing their hands and held her breath. Harry stood, going to the mini fridge to grab a bottle of water just as she began coughing and sputtering. She felt like her throat was bleeding, it really hurt. Her ears felt like they needed to pop. But as she coughed, she felt the pain beginning to fade, like she was stepping outside of her body, she knew it was happening, but the pain was becoming distant. The waves of anxiety were pulling further and further back. Harry walked back over, handing her the bottle of water. She took it gratefully.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her. Her eyes felt heavier, almost as though she were squinting at him.

“Good. The waves are gone.” Harry looked at her for a moment, opened his mouth, then closed it again before turning to grab his duffel bag.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. You’ll probably be sleeping. I’ll try not to wake you.” Clara waved her hand at him as she fell back against the bed. She felt light, like she was floating. Her legs tangled and her body felt pain free. It was a nice feeling.

Harry shut and locked the door behind him.

And it led him here. To this shitty motel in the middle of Bumfuck,Egypt.. He had watched them for the last day, his damsel and her captor. He looked like a dick. He was the tall, athletic, frat boy type. Definitely a fuck boy. But he was bigger, and Alex was smart, if he couldn’t take him he would wait until he left. And when he saw him climb into that shitty van and drive away, he knew it was his chance.

Alex had been searching for Clara since the news broke she was missing. He was angry. Someone else had gotten her first. And at a fucking gas station! Really?! But that wasn’t going to stop him. He would rescue his damsel and she would be grateful, loving even. Happy to share her life with him. He scoured every news report he could find, made a special website dedicated to finding her and sorted through tip after tip, focusing on only the most logical ones.

He stepped out of the bushes, knife in hand and duplicate keycard in the other. He smirked, thinking of how gullible the front desk clerk had been. She hadn’t even asked for his I.D. Too busy on her phone. You can’t get good service anywhere these days. He stalked up to the door and pressed his ear to it. He couldn’t hear her, but he knew she was in there. The smell of marijuana wafted through the door. He inhaled deeply. God was smiling on him today. That was sure. This would be way too easy.

He looked so different. He was pale, gaunt and had dark circles under his eyes, light stubble on his cheeks. His hair was even more shaggy and unkempt, a wild look in his eye as he held up the knife in his hand. He looked like he hadn’t changed his clothes in days. Alex. Collins. Had found her. She sucked in a sharp breath.

Clara was flushing the toilet when she heard the door open. She rolled her eyes, hiking her pants up and buttoning them, before swinging the door open. “Did you forget…..some….thing….”The words died on her tongue when she saw him.

“It’s all right.” he said, holding up his hands, talking to her in a calm voice, like she was a scared animal. “Everyone’s been looking for you. We’ve all been worried.”

“How did you-”

“Come on Clara, you know me,” he rolled his eyes, stepping closer to her, she took a step back in reflex. “You know I’ll never let you go. You can run, you can hide. You can move three or four fucking states-leave the country even! And I will always find you. I’ll always be here.” he smiled at her, “And you know why?” he tapped the knife against his temple, “cuz I’m in here. I’ll always be in here.”Clara felt a hard surface behind her. Shit. Alex grinned, stepping closer still and placing the knife against the base of her throat. “You’ll never be rid of me.” Something sharp poked Clara in the side, she reached up, trying to hit him, but he blocked her hand with his arm. Her eyes widened as she saw the tip of the needle he’d had hidden in his sleeve. She grabbed at him, her legs suddenly felt like jello, he backed up and she fell forward, onto her knees. “Nighty Night.” the floor came rushing towards her, but darkness met her first.

Clara was standing at the beginning of a long pier. Ahead of her she someone. A woman, in a black dress, long brown hair flowing behind her. Leah. She began to run. Calling out to her lost lover. The more she ran the further Leah seemed to get-

One. She wasn’t in the motel room anymore.

“Wake up.” Clara groaned, someone was shaking her shoulder, making her brain bounce around inside of her head. It hurt to open her eyes, but when she finally did, and they adjusted she realized two things.

Two. She was chained to a mattress, Her arms hanging from the headboard.

She looked over to see the face of her nightmares. Alex stood over her, he had been the one shaking her, Clara tried to scream, only to feel a gag covering her mouth. Panic began to snake up her body, lighting her on fire with adrenaline. Alex walked around to the front of the bed. Towering over her like the boogeyman.

“Now, I understand if you still don’t trust me….I’ve done some things that….You might not agree with.” Clara snarled, her eyes narrowing. Alex ignored her. “But you’ll see soon enough, that it all came from a place of love. I mean look at you!” he shouted, pointing at her, “I saved you! That man! He would have killed you! Or left you to die! I would never! I found you! I saved you!” He came back around toward her, and sat next to her on the bed. He looked at her with a tenderness that made her want to puke, she was repulsed, disgusted and her heart ached. She couldn’t look at him without thinking about Leah. What he had done to her.

“Now I love you. And I hope you see….I hope you see what I’ve been trying to tell you all along. That you love me too.” he pulled the gag down off of her mouth. Clara sighed in relief, her jaw ached. “Tell me. Tell me you love me.” she hawked a big loogie, and spit it at him.

Rage flickered over his face, it passed quickly, before he stood, scratching the back of his head. “I hate you. Fuck you.” she spat again. He tsked, shaking his head.

“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this. But I can’t have you trying to run away.” He pulled a thick board from beneath the bed, and something else, that dangled from his arm, just out of Clara’s sight. She glared at him, resilience conquering her fear. “You ever see the movie Misery?” Clara had. She hated it. But she didn’t answer him. “This kind woman saves her favorite author from a snowstorm and he’s ungrateful. So she punishes him. So he’ll see that she loves him. She just wants him to be happy with her and make things right.” They must have seen two very different versions of that movie. “You know what she does when she finds out he snuck out? She hobbled him.” And it was that moment, that Clara realized just what he was intending to do. She squirmed, trying to get away, only then did she realize her feet were chained too. He sets the board between her ankles. “Don’t squirm or I’ll miss and it’ll be worse." Tears streamed down Clara's face, loud, broken sobs escaping her throat. Alex lifted the sledgehammer over his shoulder with both hands.

“Alex! Please!” Clara cried out for mercy. He shook his head, face unchanging.

“You’ll learn to like it here. Or at the very least, you’ll learn to see things my way.”

He brought the hammer down.

Harry felt good. Blood splattered his shirt and his chin, his hands were covered in the dried substance. But he felt relief, a good kill was kinda like sex. It released the tension. He could focus all of his anger. All of his hate. All of his rage. That’s why he was so good at it. He could focus and then disassociate quickly when it was over.

But this time was different. He worried about Clara. He’d called the hotel room a couple times, she didn’t answer, so he figured she fell asleep. But that didn’t sit right with him. It wasn’t as late as he’d expected, surely she’d still be up. He shook his head. He didn’t even know why he was worried, what did it matter, tomorrow he’d be leaving her at a bus station with a ticket and going to his own home.

He did feel kind of bad for lying to her. But he didn’t know what else to do. If she knew that the real reason he took her was to use her, in case the cops caught him, she could freak. So he shouldn’t feel bad for wanting self preservation. But he did.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about her life. About her anxiety, and how she, like him, had lost someone who meant the world to her. He shook his head, trying to get her out of his mind. She was nineteen and he was twenty five. Not to mention he kidnapped her! There was no way anything could ever come from that. Nothing good anyway. He was the bad guy. The bad guys never get the girl.

He pulled up to the motel room and parked the van, slamming the door as he stepped out of it. But when he saw their room, he dropped his keys and ran inside.

The door was standing open, and when he went in Clara was gone. All of his things were there, everything was in order. She was just….. gone. He cursed and ran a hand through his hair, jogging outside to pick up his keys and come back in. Maybe she took off on her own. He thought. Saves me a trip to the bus station. He tried to feel some sort of relief, but it didn’t come. There was a feeling of dread in the room, and when he almost stepped on the syringe on the floor, he knew. He knew Clara hadn’t gone of her own free will. What the fuck happened? He fell back onto the edge of his bed, holding the syringe in his hands. There was a bit of liquid still inside. He watched it move as he tilted it back and forth in his hand.

Clara learned fast early on. Just submit and she wouldn't be punished.

Six Months Later:

The hobbling wasn’t even the worst of the things Alex had done to her. He completely stripped her of her identity. Bit by bit. To the point that she no longer even spoke. Just limped around with her head down and her mouth shut. The abuse she faced was almost always psychological, only getting physical when she really infuriated him.

If she screamed or fought he drugged her. If she cried out he would hit her harder, if she didn’t do what she was told he’d cuss her up and down until he was blue in the face. Only to turn around and tell her how much he loved her, and how he just wanted her to be happy with him. She tried to be strong, to be brave at first, but he learned of her phobia and her anxieties, and he would often play on those to keep her in a submissive, and docile state of being.

Alex had forced her to watch as slowly, little by little, news coverage and search parties dwindled. He told her her parents thought she was dead, that no one was looking for her, and eventually all the hope left her. She shut off, and became even more of a shell of herself.

The more docile she became, the more freedom she had. She was never allowed outside, but she could peak out the window. She was no longer chained to her bed at night, but he did lock her door. If he needed to leave she could wander about the house, but was locked up if he had guests. This was her life now, and her week as Harry's hostage, faded into obscurity.

Clara. Leah. Harry. Alez. None of that was real anymore. She had completely dissociated from who she had been. She was beyond numb. She had become hollow.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #solo harry #hs fandom #hs imagine #hs fanfic #hs2 #hs1 #imagine harry styles

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malfoymuch · 5 years

Text

Nightttime Patrols [Draco x Reader]

Request: @itsmalfcys — Hello! Can I please ask a Draco x reader with number 2 from the “fluffy” prompt list? Thank you!!!! xx

Prompt: Fluffy Prompt #2 — “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

A/n: okay for this one i’m going to make two separate ones? One where the reader says the quote and one when Draco does… hope you enjoy it!!

You:

You didn’t have the out-going type of personality people would compliment you with as you aged in Hogwarts. You just thought you’d do what everyone else would for the sake of helping others in need. You weren’t a bystander when it came to things, you were that one person trying to resolve all the conflict without it resulting with someone hexed, or a bloody nose. You weren’t exactly sure if it was really sticking-up for what’s right, or just being a moronic toad and chasing after what your heart forced you to do. There were times when your help had been a great deal of help, and others… led to a few visits to detention…

But whatever the reason, it seemed to bring smiles on the professor’s faces that the world hadn’t just gone to rubbish— they maybe there were a still very, brightly young lads who could potentially change the future— changing it from what others had greatly damaged. Well, except Professor Snape… he wasn’t in the best of moods to see you all the time. It was just… a work in progress…

You wanted to be that someone that wasn’t going to sit around all-day waiting for problems to suddenly disappear; you were completely independent, but wanted to be the person other’s could depend on when they truly needed to, but no one ever returned the favor. It was just something you realized as you got older, but you guess the saying is right. The world is full of those who take, and prey on the innocent, that give too much for their own good.

The bottom of your shoes skid against the ground slightly as you groaned at the pain emitting from your shoulders. You had slept awkwardly the night before due to your procrastination of homework— soon resulting in well… this. An aching pain in your shoulder that was soon leading to your neck and upper back being strained as well. You held your small bag in your left hand while you subconsciously twirled your wand in your right. It was a weird habit you had when anxious…

“Look who stopped by,” a voice dragged out. You groaned at the sound of the feminine voice, dropping your bag near you and turning around to stare at her. “How’s your day going for you, Pansy? Still stalking people, I assume?”

“Are you still getting into fights you shouldn’t concern yourself with?”

“Of course I am. Better than seeing you… perfect way to ruin my morning,” you snarled at her; watching as her minions began to circle around you, each staring at you menacingly. Threatened at their sudden tactic, you held your wand tightly… this wasn’t going to end well…

Pansy was already readying herself, wand in the grasp of her hands. Quickly, you and Pansy both pointed your wands at each other, yelling:

“EXPELLIAR—“

“PANSY!” A voice intervened, grabbing Pansy’s shoulder and swinging her to the ground. Pansy yelped as she made contact with the floor, her eyes viciously darting to the suspect before gasped. “Draco…? What’re you doing here?” She asked nervously, laughing slightly as she pushed herself off of the floor.

“I could ask you the same question, Pansy. Go somewhere else…” Draco then turned to the swarming girls around you. “And take them with you.” Pansy stared up at him shocked, strands of hairs out of place as she sprung from her position and wrapped her hands around his arm.

“Wait! You don’t think I started this, did you? I would never! (Y/n)—“

“I don’t want to hear it, Pansy. Now go,” Draco demanded, throwing her hands off of his arm, and pushed her away from his again. She let out an exasperated scream before stomping her foot on the ground and walking off, furiously. The others trailed behind, making sure not be too in the way of Draco.

You, on the other hand, walked towards your bag and picked it up once more, preparing yourself to walk away from the scene.

“You’re lucky, you know…” Draco started as he watched you. “I don’t do this for everyone…”

“I know you don’t, usually you’re in Pansy’s place.” You said, rolling your eyes.

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice!” He retaliated, raising an eyebrow at you, curiously.

“Fine then, thank you.” You praised, making sure your voice was heavily laced with an immense amount of sarcasm. Unfortunately for you, you were too busy being sarcastic that you threw on the straps of your bag on you, creating a sudden sharp pain for your shoulders. You flinched, hoping Draco wouldn’t notice as you turned around and walked away.

As you began to walk away, you felt an arm plop itself on top of your head, making you wince at the sudden contact. As you were about to kick whoever the individual was, the same person grabbed your bag and removed it from you, holding it in their hands as they began to walk off.

“Hey!” You screamed at him, catching up to Draco as he began to walk off. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Walking to your common room… what else would I be doing?” Draco asked back, sending a quick glance your way as he continued walking.

“Okay… but why?” You fumed, attempting to keep up with his long and fast steps.

“If you really think I haven’t noticed your off-behavior this whole day, then you’re a blistering idiot. You flinching earlier proved my theory of you being hurt in some way… I’m not a blind bat, you know. You sure are an idiot.” He insulted, smirking at your blank reaction. You let out a quick huff and turned your head away from him, still matching up to his speed.

“Well, we’re here.” He declared, stopping in front of the double-doors. He stared at you softly, before handing you your bag. “Don’t expect me to do this ever again, I did it because I was in a spontaneous mood.”

“Maybe you should do it more often. After all, this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” You choked out in a soft whisper, making Draco’s eyes bulge.

“You’re kidding, right? Don’t you have any friends?” You shook your head slowly, shrugging in the process. “Not really.”

“That can’t be, you help everyone… I would assume someone would offer…” he trailed off as your shoulders sunk, staring at your shoes awkwardly. “I’ve never been good with people. Doing the right thing, maybe. But defiantly not socially-appealing to talk to, you know? It’s fine, I prefer to be alone sometimes, it gives me comfort.”

Draco shook his head at your response, handing you your bag as he ruffled a hand through his hair, leaning against the wall.

“You remind me of a phrase I once heard, actually…” his voice dragged on, making your ears perk up as you brought yourself closer to him.

“Really? What is it?”

“Candles are like good people; they burn themselves out too quickly to give others the light they seek.” He quoted, You can’t help everyone,” Draco suddenly spoke out, staring at the doors. “But everyone can help someone, whether it’s all the time, or once in a great while. Remember that, sometimes it’s better to put yourself first before others.”

“I’ll keep that in mind… and of course the best advice one can give, especially from our sly and caring Slytherin Prince—“

“Oh, shut up.” He interrupted, both of you breaking out into a fit of laughs. As it died down, he placed his hand on top of your head.

“You’re something else, you know that? You’re either too stupid or too confident in yourself to be putting yourself out there like that,” you were about to protest when he cut you off again. “But maybe, that’s a good thing. Maybe if you run in another little showdown with Pansy I could come to your rescue? Maybe after that we could get supper depending on the time…”

“Draco Malfoy… are you hinting that you want me to go out on a date with you?”

“I don’t know, that’s for us to wait and see… Probably want to get inside before the professor’s start patrolling…” he encouraged, pushing you towards the doors and turning to walk away.

“What about you!?” You silently screamed as you opened the heavy door, Draco turned back and grinned.

“I’m the sly and caring Slytherin Prince! I’ll figure something out…”

Draco:

Draco wasn’t in the best mood, these past few weeks. The first-years would run a muck all throughout the halls, attempting to sneak off after curfew. Unfortunately for him, it was his turn to participate and look out for any venturing first-years, or anyone in their bloody mind would try and go somewhere they weren’t supposed to. It wasn’t that bad, yelling at a few of them would make his night a bit better… but it was you, that kept irking him.

You and Draco could never see eye-to-eye from the moment you two bumped into each other on your way to Potions in your first year. The two of you were just a non-stop duo when it came to flying insults at one another, sarcastically talking back to each other, yelling from across the class (soon serving detention), and now to tip it all of he was stuck with you as his partner for patrolling.

Just the sight of you made him want to punch something. Hard. Maybe kill it… But it’s not like any of you tried to make amends with your childish behavior for one another, a lasting quarrel over an accidental bump in the corridor.

(Although truth be told, if you were to ask either of them how the fiasco really started and who-pushed-who, they could never give you a clear and direct answer).

Maybe it was from the fact that it had occurred so long ago, or maybe it didn’t matter… really. Just the casual day-to-day scornfulness resonating off of the two of you were tremendous when one was near the other.

So there Draco was, practically dragging himself as the halls and he headed near the dorms; a sudden sneeze taking over him as he shook.

“My oh my, has the Great Slytherin Prince fallen ill? The world must be ending!” You proclaimed, throwing your hands up in the air in a frenzy. “Oh please! Don’t let the world become of this!”

“Oh shut up, you blistering git.” Your mouth swung opened in an exaggerated manner, eyes fully blown as you stared at him.

“Language!”

“I don’t care. You’re a muppet, so piss off and go search over there,” Draco snarled, pointing in the opposite direction of him. You tapped your chin with your index finger, questionably, eyes rolling to the side. “I don’t think so…”

Draco growled as he sneezed again, speed-walking away from you.

“Leave me alone, you twit.” He stuffed his hands into his robes, turning away and speeding off. Your mouth opened to retort, but then you stopped for a second. You closed your mouth, head hanging low.

“If that’s what you want, sorry for bothering you.” You quickly walked off in the other direction, whilst Draco abruptly came to a halt, watching your retreating figure. A rush of panic surged through his system, as he listened to your words. He wasn’t expecting you to just walk of like that, usually you’d stick your ground and make even more blistering insults…

Draco turned his head around and walked back, and for the rest of the hour… Draco really did feel alone. And stupid.

——————————

The next morning soon arrived, and Draco pushed the grand doors of the dining room, coughing vigorously as he glared at every person who’d dare to give him a worried look. Draco walked up to his place next to Crabbe, Goyle, and Zambini. As he made his way closer he noticed a basket in his seat, making his eyebrows crinkle as he came closer.

“Is this another failed attempt to prank me from those stupid Weasle-twins?” Draco barked aloud, side-eyeing the twins from across the hall. Crabbe and Goyle shrugged their shoulders in response, “Why don’t you open it and find out?”

“Morons,” Draco bluntly growled, before finally looking into the basket. As he peered inside, his heart clenched at the sight. It was a variety of scented candles, an assortment of teas, a few potions (medicine), as well as a blanket (and a few other things he’s never seen). Rummaging through the basket, he found a small note in the bottom of the basket.

Grabbing the note he briefly read its context:

‘Hey, Malfoy. Sorry for yesterday, thought you might want a few things to help you recover. Get better soon, you plonker.

— (Y/n)

Draco shoved the parchment into his robes, scanning the dining hall for you. When he saw you, he immediately noticed you were staring at him, but soon turned away when he caught your gaze. His jaw clenched before he grabbed the basket and placed it underneath the table, near his feet.

“Draco… are you alright? You’re blushing…”

“Shut up, Goyle.”

———————————

When supper concluded he sprinted to his room with the basket in his hands, throwing it into his room before slamming the door shut. He marched down the halls in a frenzy, eyes wandering around… He noticed your figure approaching slowly, your head hanging low with each step.

“You!” Draco screamed, walking his way over to you. Your eyes widened as you lifted your head to see his angered face, quickly turning on your heels and speed-walking in the other direction.

It didn’t prove to do much because he soon caught up and grabbed your forearm, throwing you against the wall. He grabbed the note from his robes and held up to you, angered.

“Why would you do something so idiotic as this?” He questioned, panting from the lack of oxygen. He was sweating.

“You’re sick, all I did was help.” You responded stubbornly, turning away from him. He grabbed your chin gently, making sure you faced him as he spoke again. Though, it wasn’t what you were expecting…

“Thank you.” He managed hoarsely, before turning to the side and coughing.

“What…?”

“I said thank you for the basket… it was um— that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” You didn’t know why, but you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Don’t laugh, idiot!”

“It’s cute, don’t worry. It’s good to have gifts once in a while…”

“Uh, yeah,” he muttered under his breath, as his cheeks began to burn a bright pink. You smirked as you tilted your head to the side.

“Do you want to go out sometime? When you feel better?” In an instant, his entire face flooded with color at your statement, staring at you questionably.

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?” You teased, Draco shook his head.

“Why not.” You grinned.

“Great, maybe I’ll pick you up?” You teased a bit more, making Draco glare at you.

“The only reason you’re getting away with any of this is that I’ve fallen ill. You wait until I get better,” he threatened chokingly, coughing again. You pouted as you rolled your eyes, nodding to him.

“Sure, Malfoy. Now come on, let’s go look for some idiotic freshman, does that sound good?” You cooed, Draco swatted your hands away from him. “I’m not a baby!”

“Of course you aren’t, Draco. Now let’s go.”

#draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco reader insert #dracoxreader #hogwarts #imagines #malfoymuch

348 notes · View notes

shaydeoffical · 4 years

Text

Bright as a Diamond. Shinso Hitoshi x Fem Reader: Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Summary: Shinso picks up (Y/n) from the train and they have a heart to heart.

Series Summary: When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.

Author Note: I hope you all enjoy the update, it’s a little shorter than normal, but the next one is going to be longer.

Warnings: Recounting parental Abuse.

Last Chapter: Twelve

Next Chapter: TBC

Home is Where You are Loved

It was nearly one in the morning when the train stopped at my station. Gathering my things, I almost tumbled to the floor with exhaustion. After my phone call with Eri, I found Hizashi had hundreds of photos of all of us. Going as far back as when Shinso had me hanging upside down by my ankle the first time we meet. I could see Shota smiling fondly at the scene, like a proud father. Of course, I was fuming with rage, trying to undo my binding to kick Hitoshi's ass. Still, a lot had changed since those photos were taken. Maybe not a lot, but enough had changed.

I tripped over my own feet, shuffling out of the train, and I stumbled forward, planting into another person. Lavender and lemongrass. Hitoshi. I didn't even need to look. Slumping into him deeper, I took a deep breath and yawned.

"Careful Kitten," he had arms around my shoulder. I hung off him, barley keeping myself upright. "Denki drains me too." He placed his cold hand to my blistered check. Shinrkinging away, I tried to bury my face in his scarf. He pulled me back, and I obliged with his demands, only because he smelled so good.

"He was fun," I mumbled, wrapping my arms around his neck, groaning. "I'm so tired, I just couldn't fall back asleep on the train. A lot of terrible things happened today, Hitoshi." There wasn't enough energy left to cry. "Mom isn't getting treatment, she's just living out her last days…and she doesn't want to do it with me there." Biting my bottom lip, I shut my eyes tight.

He slid his arms under my butt and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he started the awkward walk to the car. The station was nearly devoid of any human life, and I couldn't care less who saw us. Under any other situation, I'd fight him on this, say I could do it on my own. But I just wanted to be taken care of right now.

"Is that all that happened?" He was on to me, but I didn't care to hide it from him. He had been there for me several times. If he wanted to pry, I'd let him.

"You can tell Shota and Hizashi, I don't want to repeat it." He bounced me higher on his waist and took the elevator. Alone in the small box, I could hear even my thoughts echo.

"I can do that. Now, what happened to your cheek?" Hitoshi's voice was so soft I wanted to record it for future reference. He was so sweet… and he had been delightful for a while. So much had changed in just a few months.

"Mom and I got into it. She said some nasty things about my dad and then me. Like how she spent her life protecting him, and she shouldn't have given birth to me, and he'd still be here." I nuzzled his neck, trying to comfort myself. "She's always had a violent streak, but she's never said anything like that before. Maybe it's the medicine or that she's tired of living." I took a shaky breath. "She signed a DNR form without telling me. Went to an end of life home and lied to me about it. Then she had the gall to tell me she doesn't want me around as she dies. We were fine on the phone, but the minute I show up, she's giving me a heated slap like I'm a kid again. Not to mention she said she regretted marrying Dad for a second. Even tossed my necklace out the window." Hitoshi fumbled for his keys and balanced me on his hip.

Hitoshi lowered me into his car and buckled me in. I paused my story and waited for him to get in the driver's side. The car was surprisingly cold for him, having just driven to come to get me. The frost was piled on the window thick.

"I'm not sure what to say." Hitoshi grabbed my hand after turning the car on and adjusting the heater. It blew cold as the ac tried to warm up. A shiver ran down my spine, and I tucked my free hand in my pocket.

"Just listening helps. It really does." The radio was lowly humming as silence filled the car. Minutes passed in silence, our hands still clasped around each other. His thumb rubbing circles around my skin.

Once the air warmed up, the frost on the windows cleared. Hitoshi let my hand go to put the car in reserve to take us home.

"How was the daycare?" I asked, noticing his uniform was still on, despite his shift ending at five.

"Little brats were tolerable today." The air went from warm to hot, and Hitoshi turned all the vents my way. Maybe he was colder natured then I thought. "One of them sneezed in my co-worker's mouth. It took everything in me not to puke."

"Jesus," my eyes bulged. "Have you been home yet?"

"No, I came here as soon as my shift ended." He took my hand in his again, we were on the highway now, there weren't as many turns. "Did anything else happen today?"

"Well, you saw Denki and me at the café. That was my first date." I chuckled, "I really didn't think anyone would want to take me out. You have a really charitable friend." He squeezed my hand tighter, jaw clenching.

"Lucky bastard," Hitoshi smiled, but it didn't look quite right.

"As if, like you always say, I'm barely tolerable." I nudged his shoulder and scooted closer to him. "Denki said next time we all need to go out together. That could be fun if you don't mind me hopping in your friend group."

"It would be good for you." He nodded to the music, slipping his hand free. Working hard to keep my lips frowning, I swallowed hard."So, was it really your first date?"

"No joke, it was. Though, it's not the first date I would have wanted. It was more of a prove me wrong type deal. And I don't like being wrong. The best part of the whole ordeal was getting dotted on a little bit by a cutie." He looked like he was on the verge of tears… "You want to know what the worst part of today was?" I scooted closer to his side.

"What," his voice trembled, his knuckles turning white as he clutched the steering wheel.

Grasping his hand, I laced our fingers together and brought it up to my lips, blowing hot air over his cold skin. "I ran out of snacks, and I don't even remember eating them. My Shinso snack sack ran dry."

"I'll get you some more," he perked up a bit, laughing through his melancholy. The hand on the wheel was still tight. Hmm.

"Wanna know the best part of today?" A bold streak ran through me, and I knew this would surely make him feel something other than sad.

"What would that be?" He glanced at me before focusing back on the icy road.

"Waking up next to you." Butterflies erupted in my stomach, and I sat back in my seat after planting a quick kiss to his knuckles. All the blood rushed to my face, and I wondered how my tired body could let me say such a thing.

It was silent for two songs before Hitoshi opened his mouth. My brain was wracking with cover-ups and retorts, but he took the lead. "You really mean that?"

"Are you going to tease me about this?" Tapping my shoes together, I focused on my feet. "I did mean it, I hope that it wasn't too weird. I just- it was the best." Swiming my hands around, I tripped over every other word.

"It was." He agreed, turned down the driveway then putting the car in park. Neither of us moved to get out.

"So, you don't hate my guts?" I asked, looking out the wind.

"I've never hated you." I nodded, pressing my hands together and rubbing them. "Do you still hate me?" He pushed his hair back.

"I quite like being with you," I whispered. A bang against my window had me jumping into the driver's side and into Hitoshi's lap. He pulled me across the console and pushed by my hair aside to see what caused the commotion.

"You two gonna kiss?" Hizashi was holding his stomach in a fit of giggles, opening he car door. "You jumped so fast."

"Don't scare me like that." I bellowed, rubbing the bump on my head where I hit the ceiling. "Hizashi, that was so cruel."

"Mic, that was a little much." Shinso came to my defense, opening his door and pulling me out of the car. Now on my feet, I stormed over to Hizashi and crossed my arms.

"Hizashi, I have a bone to pick with you. How many photos do you need of me? Did you really need one of me brushing my teeth? Like some of them are cute, but you look like a creep with all these."

"Oh, I, huh. Gotta go." He grabbed the phone and sprinted into the house. Turning back to take a photo.

"Get back here," I chased after him, forgetting about the conversation I was in the middle of. "Hizashi!"

"I'm sorry!" He yelled, using his quirk and stopping me for a moment. Covering my eyes, I waited it out.

"Don't use that on me. Why where you filming in the bathroom?" I caught up and jumped him, but he dodged, and I hit my knees against the porch. "Oww," I rolled over and held my legs. Hizashi took off again, which was unusual for him when I got hurt. "Let me catch you, and this will be over faster." Lowering my head, my energy faded fast. "Shit, I'll get you back at some point." I sighed, flattening against the wood. Cold air filled my lungs as I panted.

Someone pulled my pant leg up, and of course, it was Hitoshi. Using his phone light, he looked over my knees. "You need to get some sleep and stay out of trouble."

"Yea, I do." I moaned, letting him help me up. "I'm going to hit the shower than the hay. Today's been exhausting."

#bnha x reader #my hero academia #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #xreader #eraser family #family abuse tw #fluff #soft #ambersahydeoffical

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Next Caller Pt 29

You knew it might ripple around that you were working on both popular shows, you just hoped that none would try to spend much time delving into your life. For a time at least you planned to be mum in interviews if offered and just let your work speak for itself. Truly how much interest could people have in the voice over artists. Animators and writers, of which you were for both on the animated show, you knew there would be of some interest but easily overshadowed by the show itself. At best you guessed to be asked to a convention or something to greet the few people with questions or wishing possibly for an autograph for the ancient show.

Closing up your garage you took another tour of each room seeing it all come together and oddly in your storage room holding your blankets and such you couldn’t help but notice that it could make a nice at home recording studio. Already you had a mic and worked with a group of friends to edit the background sounds for your radio show years prior with just your laptop. Certainly with your now ample funds and spacious abode you could have a lovely setup for a sound studio easing things even if somehow another season of the show was called for. It would be grueling with your job at the hotel but you could make it work with Celebrian and her twin cousins who had helped you with the animation for the show before just rating to have another project to get back into.

Added to the mix of house sketches you roughly designed a layout for the larger of the two storage rooms knowing you’d probably never have that much to store. The dream of a possible studio taking hold and demanding to be sketched at least. Desks, shelves, cubbies and the actual recording section with the built in booth and stand in one corner. The lighting was fine for what you would need sticking to the simple installed lanterns along the walls and every surface could have more than one use to utilize the small space to whatever that could pop up. An early night in by the time you’d priced out what you might need through dinner was called for and you were ready to get started on the next show.

Breakfast came with a whoosh from your phone alerting you to the email that rolled you over in bed. Lifting your phone you read the notice of a deposit into the account for your trust you’d set up from your father’s clan funds. 20k now sat in your little black card attached solely to that account and sighing deeply you grumbled wondering what you were going to do with your money. Turning your head however your eyes shifted to your study and sitting up you went to fetch your laptop.

You could feel another writing burst coming up and eventually you would have to type something and until you bought a chair you couldn’t properly use your wonderful new desk. Fetching your laptop you turned it on and right to the bookmarked website you found the chair on, with a click you ordered it and in the aftermath you eyed the screen only to groan and rub your face when the receipt was emailed to you and that whoosh sounded from your phone. You weren’t going to go crazy or blow through it but you were determined to not let it be a noose around your neck and this chair arriving, surprisingly the following day, would be the start of accepting that you just had those funds to use if you so wished.

In shorts and a tank top chosen from the heat felt in your trip to your mailbox to check for yesterday’s mail that turned out to just be an odd flyer for boats on sale you brought inside and added to your shred pile of mail that Kuu loves to handle for you, fully entertained by the use and effects of a shredder. Surely the strips would be scattered through nests and eventually be worn away to nothing in time. A messy bun was called for and tucked under your helmet allowing the breeze to cool the back of your neck on the ride to the shop.

At the early hour and quick stop you parked on the street outside and hurried inside for your mug from Balin while the others were oddly missing. His rag from cleaning the mess formerly covering the counter left in its green mush coated glory for all to see. A quick wave later and you were heading for the door as he said, “Can’t wait to hear what Bunny is up for today.” Your soft giggle was all he heard and chuckling to himself hoping that was a good sign and not one for more grim news for her.

Barely moments after you had left Thorin entered through the back door with Dwalin helping to smooth the flannel across his back. “I’m sorry, I thought he liked peas! He usually eats them so gladly.”

Thorin fired back tucking in the front of his fresh undershirt in he had in his trunk for emergencies, “He ate them fine, he just neglected to swallow them and then sneezed the chewed mess all over me.”

Dwalin, “Surely he,”

“Oh I’m not mad at Frodo. Strictly involuntary I get that, my issue was my mouth was open and everything.”

Balin chuckled again and said, “We’ve all been there. Just be glad it was peas, been there with my pebble with naught but her own snot exploding at me.”

Thorin sighed and looked to the bill that Balin was adding to the register, “How could I have missed her I wasn’t gone three minutes?!”

Balin chuckled, “You left it on the burner, I couldn’t think of a good excuse to have her linger and possibly be late.”

Thorin huffed and turned to lift the rag he took to the sink in the back to scrub clean, “I’ll handle this then.”

Dwalin said, “If it helps he never sneezes on Frerin and Gran always said a baby sneeze near you means that you’re their favorite!”

From the back Thorin rumbled, “I am so flattered.”

The brothers chuckled and got to finishing readying the shop for their first customers hoping to be in for the first part of the show in their usual seats already showing up to cue outside.

A ringing phone was how the show opened and from there Wolsey informed Countess Beatrice that he had found Bunny. Over the span of a week gradual hints of waking were spotted by the staff, always when the guests were out of the room. Until with a hard slap sitting up out of sleep the King of Gondor held his cheek staring at the empty bed Bunny had backed then slid off of out of her dream falling onto the floor with a pained cry. Leaning over the bed towards the woman tangled in the iv and various tethers to monitors now going off that they were disconnected he peered at the panting frantic collapse of the nightmare lingering in her eyes she had escaped from then said in the race of the nurses into the room, “Miss Bunny, welcome to Gondor.”

“Up you get Deary,” one kind nurse said while she and another helped Bunny up into the bed again untangling the chords and reattaching the monitors once she was safely lounging again.

Looking at the King Bunny got the play back of all she had missed until the narrator came in ready to drop in on his savior and thank them with the pictures he had drawn of her distracting her fully until Beatrice and the others could be brought in to embrace their badly smarting little friend. Lingering across the wall however Durin was noted to be watching intently the same woman he came to see daily without any word traded past a soft whisper he would return again the next day leaving a single tiny pile of white flowers gathered through her rest in his strolls through the gardens on his daily walks.

Every Durin listening in could feel tingling on their arms recognizing what they hoped to be the twist in the tale they had ached for catching hints shows prior that she might be one of the mysterious brides of Durin, mainly one he married in his final two lifetimes. Tiny white flowers and barely a word spoken between them with only rumors of an innocent saved selflessly with nearly the cost of her life. Nearly a spotless Dwarf lineage till that unspeakably irresistible half Hobbit that mingled the sudden love of blooms into the great bloodline.

It was a slow episode without much to spur angst or drama to make the heart beat faster but the sheer emotion in it had people all but openly weeping in the clear showing of adoration and hinted hope for more from the great Dwarf King reborn. The execution of Holm and burning of his body came with a spine tingling speech from Wolsey to the troops looking on leaving people actually clapping proudly for the fictional speaker. All the way through your final three minute clip of cheers and chants from the soldiers allowing you to slip out to go to the bathroom real quick after missing your chance earlier. Returning just in time for your sign off music to gather your things already feeling yourself smirking imagining the reactions on people’s faces when Bunny would be back at the helm the following show.

“You are maddening.” With a giggle you pulled your buzzing phone from your pocket while Mal said, “I can’t even try to keep up with you.”

“Good. Ample twists and turns coming up.”

“Will Bunny at least talk next show?”

Lowly you said leaning in to whisper, “She’s opening it.”

Mal chuckled and patted your shoulder, “Finally, some good news.”

You giggled again and reached over stroking BamBam’s head in his nap, “Nice to know he’s enjoying the five hour naps my show grants him.”

“He is. His leg is getting better everyday and he keeps getting heavier.”

“No doubt, heavier than you soon enough.”

“How are your birds?”

“Good, Belly and Darling are still on their honeymoon and Roac seems to be in good spirits still by what Thorin mentioned yesterday.”

With a grin she said, “So I hear we’re heading to the zoo tomorrow?”

“Ah, you’ve been invited as well,”

“Guys asked me yesterday. I hope they have the bear cub exhibit open.” She said adjusting the carrier in her grip on your way down to the garage, “Dain’s coming out to watch BamBam again, they seem to like one another.”

“Well that’s good as they’re set to live the rest of their lives together.” Making her giggle again. “No hint yet on how things went with Dis?”

Softly her cheeks shifted pink and she said, “We ate food. Talked.”

“Hmm.” You said making her look you over, shaking your head when her lips parted you said, “It’s clearly a courting thing I’m not privy to.”

“Oh don’t be like that. It’s just, a clan thing, supposed to remain-,”

You patted her arm, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just take it as a good sign of things settling down.”

“Not close to settling down.” You glanced at her, “There’s stages, we’ve been welcomed but it’s still a while off before settling down, living together is beyond question for some time and even if we did want to elope that would be downright scandalous to be so quickly.” She drew in a quick breath then said, “Not that we aren’t serious, there are-,”

“Rules.”

She sighed out in reply, “Rules.”

Easing your hand over her back you said, “Be thankful you aren’t an Elf, some courting can take centuries to even be accepted.” Open mouthed she looked at you and you nodded, “It’s always best to meet in childhood and then families warm up over time by the time you are grown.”

“Centuries?!” You nodded again and she asked, “What about Thorin? You would wait centuries to even have dinner?”

“We’ve had dinner, several, and seen a film, been on vacation.”

“I mean as a couple.”

“I know what you meant, and if he did want a relationship with me he would just have to ask me himself in blunt terms, of which I am certain he could hardly accomplish easily. The one plus I assume of having Maiar blood. I can take as long or be as swift as I care to be.”

“Why don’t you just ask then?”

For a moment she caught a timid glance away from her, “I don’t like being wrong.”

Her hand settled on your arm, “He’s not leading you on, and you aren’t wrong. I know your ex lied to you terribly but that’s not what’s happening here.”

“It’s just, odd.”

Leaning in her head tapped the side of yours in a sigh, “Courting is odd. You know how Amad and Adad got together?”

You shook your head, “She fell off a patio and got her leg stuck in a flower pot, one of those deep ones and by the time his brother found him he’d gotten her leg free and she was halfway over his shoulder in lifting her out. Reputation demanded they were courting.” You looked at her and she nodded, “I fell off a ladder and they caught me, all you had to do was say ‘surprise me’ and he fell into your trap while pretending he was the one saving you.”

“Oh really?” You said stepping out of the lift with her beside you.

“Oh yes, stuck in his own slump after a poorly crumbled romance you just scooped him out of. Lit up his world you did.”

“It’s terribly romantic when you put it like that.” She nodded, “Terribly stuffed with fiction,” earning a playful glare from Mal making you giggle out, “But romantic all the same.”

“Go get some tea and make your damsel swoon.” Rolling your eyes you giggled in her mounting her scooter to ride off again. Finally looking at the phone in your palm you read the notice from your email that the first Bombadil deposit had been added to your account. Helmet added and you settled onto your own scooter, easing your leg over the dip under the handlebars the key was eased into the ignition and turned to start the scooter. 80 k post taxes was just sitting there and in your head you crossed off 40 to be switched to your savings account settled for each thousand deposited to be exchanged with a gold coin added to a vault deep in the treasury in the heart of Erebor. The single coin that had sat there for nearly a century waiting for company now had a tiny pile of friends to keep him entertained.

“Frodo exploded on me.” Once at the counter Thorin ignored the still whispering people filling the room speculating on future parts to the show.

“Top or bottom,” you asked and he wet his lips.

“Mouthful of peas sneezed at me.”

“Ah, been there. Few of my best shirts fell to my sisters when they were toddlers.”

“My mouth was open.”

“No,” he nodded and you couldn’t help but giggle offering the folded bill between your fingers.

His fingers wrapped around it just barely brushing yours and he said, “Yes, one cup coming up, settle in and don’t mind the gossip.”

Smirking to yourself you turned for your usual high table and stool you hopped up onto, settling your bag in your lap you brought out one of your sketching journals that had you finishing a sketch you had started the other day of a tapestry that Durin was fabled to have woven himself for his love. One of thirty possible designs you hadn’t decided on for the second book illustrations for the unfolding of his storyline. Perhaps one raven too many your head tilted and chin propped in your palm only to look up when Thorin settled two mugs down on your table. Rumbling lowly, “And just what have you got there?”

Turning the book around you said, “Brainstorming.”

A smirk ghosted across his lips and he all but hummed back, “A betrothal tapestry. Lovely, though you need anvils across the tops.” Your brows furrowed and leaned in while he reached over taking hold of your pen you released to let him sketch out the required elements and naming each. “Yours was very close. For the show I take it?”

You nodded and asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have record of the real one somewhere? Would you?”

Barely above a whisper he replied, “Gran has an etching of it in mithril. Every marriage in our line has one, fully colored with gemstones.”

“Really?”

“Yes, though it’s meant to remain-,”

“In family,” your grin dropped and you looked down to take a picture of your mug only for his hand to lay over your free hand while you set down your phone to lift your mug.

“You, can see it.”

You shook your head after your sip, “It’s not you, something Mal mentioned.”

“Ah, if that has something to do with Dis or the boys it’s a step towards earning trust.”

“I get that.”

“It’s not all meant to be secretive, only with Dams to enter the family fold. Each clan has their own tradition and way of welcoming, phrases, rites of welcome that have to be crossed off. You were a spectacular buffer in the Festival, you are counted as an honorary Stonefoot, but until an engagement is settled in contract then it must remain between them.”

“It really is a culture difference, don’t mind me with four to choose from and to have had to memorize myself I have no right to pout on being on the outside of another.” Smirking in the retraction of his hand you lifted your mug.

“Four, which one would you follow then?”

“Whichever one I stumble into. Following where my feet decide, hasn’t steered me wrong yet.”

“No doubt.” He muttered keeping his eyes on you through his own sip and upon lowering his mug he asked, “What are you up to today?”

“Curtains. You?”

“I am helping Dwalin find a suitable stroller for Frodo and Billi.”

“Don’t they rent those?”

“Yes, but none good enough for our youngest pebbles.” Glancing around you eyed the still whispering tables, when he lowered his mug again he hummed out, “We wouldn’t happen to get to meet Durin’s wife, would we?”

“Anything is possible.”

“Have we already met her?” You gave a subtle shrug and he chuckled to himself, “Figures.”

A basic plan of which exhibits you might see in your trip to the zoo filled the rest of your stop. Until at the arrival of Bilbo to take Dwalin and Thorin shopping for strollers you joined them out to the parking lot and waved them goodbye as they piled into Dwalin’s car to drive off for their own shopping trip. In the back Thorin kept sight of you until you turned separate ways. Again at the fabric shop you followed the same steps you had followed when Thorin had brought you here. Into the bend of your arm you tucked each of the rolls of fabric you wanted that were longer than your body luring a pair of taller associated to come over and help you to the cutting table. A hefty stack of folded fabric was joined with colored thread to match and accenting buttons for the ties to hold back the curtains.

Home again you went and closing your garage behind you to stroll through your home hearing another awkward song from Belly while Dot was busy exploring her new home once again looking for extra details to add to her nest. Passing them you went to your storage room where you brought a teal trunk out to the living room to stand up on its side against the wall. Finding the bag with the curtain rods and loops you left by your couch.

Opening the split door on the top the two halves folded back revealing the cubies and shelves around the teal sewing desk you unfolded and settled your sewing machine on the end of. With projector on you listened to the show playing in the background while you got started on cutting the fabric. One section at a time you hemmed each end and stitched the fabric around the securing T shaped tabs for the loops you had bought. Pairing the curtains by destination you had the piles lined up then turned your gaze to the curtain rods once you had switched off your sewing machine.

“Belly?”

Your voice echoed through the house and curiously following it the raven found you atop a sideways turned trunk when you realized you still hadn’t bought a ladder yet. On the shelves by the door he landed and eyed the bar in your hand asking, “Yes Jackrabbit?”

“Is this even?” You asked with pencil in hand ready to mark where to secure the brackets.

Dangling from the doorframe Darling came to a stop curious what you were doing and Belly answered, “Yes, should it not be lower?”

Marking the one side with your arm outstretched holding the bar in place you pulled the pencil back and traded hold of each item to mark the other side of it. “No, the loops for the curtains are about two inches so to cover the window fully the bar has to be higher than the window frame.”

The peach curtains for your sisters’ room went in easily enough for their smaller window higher up on the wall than the other bedrooms but longer than the others. With screwdriver in hand you worked each securing bracket into place for one half of the window then opened the next kit to level that with the first. Fetching the curtains you brought them in now for the trio of Ravens to see you ease them onto their rods you lifted in your climb onto the trunk again to settle the bars in place. Grins eased onto their cheeks watching the finished product coming together as you eased them back to tie them back with your hand made straps secured by fake crystal coated star buttons.

Two trunks were needed to reach the nearly ceiling high level you wanted for your Naneth’s room. This one was easier to measure out once you laid the bar out on the windowsill seeing how much you had on either side of the window once it was centered. Still watching you once they had torn open the packs for you they flew up with the brackets and screws so you wouldn’t have to keep getting up and down easing the task greatly. Then when you lifted the curtain coated rod they helped to grip the rod holding the other end to ease it as a team into place. Using the pulley system on either end they helped you to ease the curtains open on the larger window with internal shades already built into the window just like the two smaller windows to the right of it you were leaving without the second set of curtains as they met on a corner.

The white orange accented bedroom was next with the white and grey striped curtains mounted nearly to the ceiling again. Two sets of double windows were covered easily on opposite ends of the same curved wall.

The blue/orange room proved more challenging with a small double window near the ceiling centered on one wall, up high next to the ceiling on the orange wall your blue and white curtains hung to the ground, easily secured by standing on the table you had assembled. Moving a trunk against the blue wall to the right of it you added a matching set up near the ceiling covering the double window. The other tan half of the wall had another high double window the third set was secured around reaching from floor to ceiling.

On your feet you nipped at your lip eyeing the final product bringing the rooms fuller into creation. To the living room again you went with your laptop settling onto the couch, first securing the transfer of half of your Bombadil funds to your savings adding forty more gold coins to your vault then switching to check the shipping on your office chair.

“Hey hey hey, it’s been a heck of a time but don’t you fret it’s just you and me your dear friend Bunny, devoted with my ear to the ground here to give you all the latest on those lovable Durin boys of ours.” Gasps rippled around only to fall silent as your voice rang out again spreading grins on the faces of the Durins listening in hoping to catch the next segment in their ancestor’s fictionalized past. They knew the truth from his journals and stories handed down through their line kept within the clan but they had to admit they loved hearing your version of it. “Out in the middle of who knows where in an impressively odd flying shark of all things I am currently tucked in a water closet hiding out from yet another person coming to tell me to get back to bed.” Grins spread at Bunny’s determination to be up and about. “But I’ve found this handy wheeled stool and as long as I don’t hit some steps I should be just peachy.”

At the sound of the door opening Wolsey could be heard saying, “There you are.” Then his groaning at your rolling past him.

Down the hall you rolled saying, “You’ll never catch me alive.”

Raul called out proudly, “Roll like the wind Bunny!”

Though Durin halted the game with her gasp in his playful rumble of, “I see we have two pirates aboard my ship.”

“Your point being, Shark King?”

“No point, just an order, back to bed.” Bunny groaned and he could be heard rolling her back to her room, “This is strictly a non fleeing floor.”

“No fun, at all. I can see why your lot is the least boisterous bunch I’ve seen in years.”

“That’s unfair, you haven’t even heard our music hours yet.”

“When would those be, half past unfun and never thirty?”

Awkwardly he chortled and rumbled back, “Funny, very funny. I will ensure you have a comfy seat right up front, at sunset, it stretches out to midnight.”

“For such rule sticklers you would assume there would be a bedtime you stuck to. No wonder you’re all scowling.” Again he chortled and the banter had the people listening in were melting at the moment they imagined to be their possible coupling. Only he was called away and Beatrice came in with her family around Bunny on her bed in the most comfortable room offered for guests.

Outside the booth you could see Ecthellion and Glorfindel. Mal had to hurry out to meet up with Dain so to their office you went taking a seat to go over all the details coming up in the plans for your book in the future. With confirmation of the stickers being in transit to be brought to the station this week you grinned readying the news in your head for the Durins to be told. Ecthellion said, “Now Gorgo is off next week and there is something planned for this weekend for her family so it would have to be next weekend possibly to handle the draft date. And all that is merely details the read through is just for how to rate the violence and such, they have accepted your book as is, it’s in writing as soon as it’s been rated the book etchings are off to print.”

Letting out a deep breath you replied, “So strange to be so close.”

The pair chuckled and Ecthellion handed you the check in an envelope he slid it into confirming the amount, “10.5k. Any plans for it yet?”

“Not sure yet, had a passing thought to maybe turn one of my storage rooms into an at home sound studio.”

Glorfindel, “That could be very useful, especially if weather were to turn sour or we needed to do repairs here. Or for ads, animated promos, we did leave it open for possible cartoon promotions for the novel, you record the voices do a little three minute skit.”

“I could do that. I’ll work on some things over next week.”

Ecthellion nodded through a grin at you, “Excellent, they will love that, really get the word out. Not to mention if they wanted to record an audio version of your novels or if the show did end up picking up ample amount of fire to possibly get another season. Not even mentioning the ideas Celebrian has had for shows you might join her on in the future.”

“I thought she was focusing on Arwen’s jumping lessons?”

Glorfindel chuckled, “You never know. Between that and the boys and their rock climbing ambitions she might need a getaway of her own.” Making you giggle on your way to the door slipping the envelope into your bag. Hugs were traded and they were off to meet with another possible group with new ideas for their time slot that was in great need for some fresh ideas.

Back down to your garage you had to admit to yourself it was useful that you’d already animated the novel and saved the audio on a hard drive. Back in one of your trunks had the box of animated original images you had drawn with the backup already being compiled into footage reels by Celebrian’s filming company that had promised to do so for you while you were waiting for interest in your story possibly even to self publish a sort of show or film series. The prospect now more possible than ever to come up with the radio spot and the impending book series.

Strapping your helmet on you straddled your bike feeling amply proud of yourself and your own patience through all of this. Even more than that your grump’s words about your achievements so far could only have you imagining how he would react to the news. Just hearing about the curtains could be enough to earn a grin from the serious Dwarf. For the short ride to the bank you remained focused on the ride over wondering how the zoo would go today. The marble building with a polished silver door coated with sword designs across the milky glass panels stood out in the shopping center.

Parked in the section for bikes you removed your helmet and crossed to the walkway heading inside, right up to the large doors that eased open in your approach allowing you in and a Hobbit on your left out. Flashing him a quick grin you continued on brushing your bangs out of your face feeling your long braid sliding across your back with each step you took. Large desks lined the vast hall and off to your left you walked to the counter coated in slips, with your wallet in hand you opened your wallet pulling out the card for your main account you swiped in the card reader then got to filling in the deposit slip. Once filled in you moved to one of the seats in the waiting lounge, from your bag you pulled out the envelope along with your journal you tried to keep busy looking through until the attendant came out saying, “Miss, Pear-?”

Grinning at the woman you stood seeing her eyes flinching from the handheld in her palm to you again with parted lips closing in a quick smile, “Pear is fine.”

Shifting on her feet she showed you back to her office that once she had you alone inside you could tell something was up with her creeping grin and continued stolen glances your way. “How can I help you today, Miss Pear?”

Handing her the deposit slip you pulled out the check that you signed the back of with a pen from your journal, “Just a check deposit over the two grand limit for the atm.”

Her grin split wider and she said, “Not a problem.” Easing through the process to scan the slip into the tabletop deposit system including the check after, you punched in your pin on the keypad aimed at you and she scanned her badge punching in her own authorization code. Again her grin flashed your way and she said, “Easy as pie.”

“Thank you.”

When you readied to stand she asked softly, “I just have one question, I am curious, you wouldn’t happen to be the same Miss Pear listed as working on the new show on Bombadil and the Bunny show?”

“Well, ya.”

“Could I get an autograph?”

“Uh, sure,” you said looking down to the slip of paper she slid to you and you signed a simple J Pear across it with the loop of the r making a pear shape around the name making her grin creep wider.

“Thank you so much! I am loving both shows.”

“Thank you.” Out again you followed her back to the main lobby and gave her a final goodbye and walked out to your scooter again while she giddily shared in whispers just who was just in the bank with her coworkers in the break room once she saw you were on your way out of the lot.

Pt 30

#Thorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr

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sevenwonderwitch · 4 years

Text

Unholy Bonds

Chapter Four ( one, two, three)

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Fem!OC

Warnings: drug usage, violence, serial killer Michael, kidnapping, assault, Stockholm syndrome, hobbling, torture, shot gunning

A/N: this chapter gets dark. Reader discretion advised

@rocketgirl2410

Prudence was propped on her elbows, head in hands, feet locked together, as she watched Michael lay out his ‘tools’ on the opposite bed. He had lifted a floorboard in the van, to reveal a box, filled with tons of weapons, some she didn’t even recognize. The tv played commercials in the background, neither of them were paying attention. Michael touched the tools gently, almost affectionately. It was strange to her. He began putting them, one by one into a duffel bag.

He had explained to her that sorting his tools was like pregame for him. Looking at them and thinking about what he'd use them for amped him up. It made her shudder.

“Keep the door locked. Don't answer it for anyone. I'll be back in a few hours,” Prudence rolled over onto her back, sighing.She counts the tiles in the ceiling, she hasn’t had her meds in days and she can feel the tide coming in, the anxieties slowly creeping up, ready to drag her down again. “Prudence?” Michael came to her,he leaned over her face “Princess,” he said gently, “what's wrong?” She wrinkled her nose.

“I'm not a princess,” she insisted. Michael chuckled.

“What's on your mind?”

“Its my meds,” she swallowed down the lump forming in her throat, “I've been off my medication for too long…..”

“For anxiety?” She nodded.

“And other things.”

“Are they over the counter or?”

“Doctor scripts.”

“What happens when you go off them?” Prudence furrowed her brow, she doesn't know how to describe it.

“It's not good,” she can see the wheels turning, as Michael tried to find a solution to Her current problem.

“I have a suggestion….but before I give it, I want to know what you want me to do.” Prudence was taken aback by Michael’s sudden thoughtfulness.

“I want you to stay,” she said honestly.

“Prudence.” He warns.

“Please.”

“You know I can't.”

“Why not.”

“Because.” He was getting irritated. She continued.

“Because why?”

“You know why .” He growled.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I have a job to do.”

“Killing innocent people isn't a job, it's murder.”

“So you’re like Batman.” she said after a while. He gave her a confused look, she sat up, turning to face him fully. “Like Batman. A Vigilante. You know, someone who takes the law into their own hands, cuz they think the law officials can’t or won’t do it.” Michael chewed on his tongue thoughtfully for a moment, before nodding.

“Batman….I like that. Yeah. We’re like Batman…...So since your idea isn't possible, would you wanna try mine?” she shrugged. “You ever smoke weed before?” he asked her. She shook her head. “figured,” he went into the bathroom, Prudence heard him rummage around and when he came back out he had a little ceramic bowl in his hand and a lighter. He sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “If you're okay with this and you want to try it we will. It might help you relax, it works different for everyone. But it’s been known to treat anxiety and depression…..We can’t just go out and get your medicine so, this would be the next best thing.”

“I want to.” She said in a small voice.

“I guess not.”

“Good. Give me your hand.” Prudence held out her hand and Michael ook her thumb and first finger making an ‘o’ shape. He intertwined her three other fingers with his own and made the ‘o’ shape with his fingers. “When I start to lean in, you do it too, and I’ll blow the smoke through my hands into your mouth. Inhale as much as you can. Hold it for like, thirty seconds I guess, and then exhale. I’ll go slow.” Prudence adjusted herself, sitting up on her knees. Michael brought the lit bowl to his lips and took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. She watched him, fascinated as he made a squeaking, sneezing sort of sound and closed his lips, holding his breath.

He leaned in and she pressed her fingers to her lips.

His breath was cool as it hit her parted lips, she inhaled, eyes beginning to water, and almost choking, it sort of burned. He breathed slow and she expanded her stomach until she couldn’t take anymore. She pulled away, releasing their hands and held her breath. Michael stood, going to the mini fridge to grab a bottle of water just as she began coughing and sputtering. She felt like her throat was bleeding, it really hurt. Her ears felt like they needed to pop. But as she coughed, she felt the pain beginning to fade, like she was stepping outside of her body, she knew it was happening, but the pain was becoming distant. The waves of anxiety were pulling further and further back. Michael walked back over, handing her the bottle of water. She took it gratefully.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her. Her eyes felt heavier, almost as though she were squinting at him.

“Good. The waves are gone.” He looked at her for a moment, opened his mouth, then closed it again before turning to grab his duffel bag.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. You’ll probably be sleeping. I’ll try not to wake you.” Prudence waved her hand at him as she fell back against the bed. She felt light, like she was floating. Her legs tangled and her body felt pain free. It was a nice feeling.

Michael shut and locked the door behind him.

Kai had been searching for Prudence since the news broke she was missing. He was angry. Someone else had gotten her first. And at a fucking gas station! Really?! But that wasn’t going to stop him. He would rescue his damsel and she would be grateful, loving even. Happy to share her life with him. He scoured every news report he could find, made a special website dedicated to finding her and sorted through tip after tip, focusing on only the most logical ones.

And it led him here. To this shitty motel in the middle of Bumfuck,Egypt.. He had watched them for the last day, his damsel and her captor. He looked like a dick. He was the tall, athletic, frat boy type. Definitely a fuck boy. But he was bigger, and Kai was smart, if he couldn’t take him he would wait until he left. And when he saw him climb into that shitty van and drive away, he knew it was his chance.

Prudence was flushing the toilet when she heard the door open. She rolled her eyes, hiking her pants up and buttoning them, before swinging the door open. “Did you forget…..some….thing….”The words died on her tongue when she saw him.

He looked so different. He was pale, gaunt and had dark circles under his eyes, light stubble on his cheeks. His hair was even more shaggy and unkempt, a wild look in his eye as he held up the knife in his hand. He looked like he hadn’t changed his clothes in days. Kai. Anderson. Had found her. She sucked in a sharp breath.

“It’s all right.” he said, holding up his hands, talking to her in a calm voice, like she was a scared animal. “Everyone’s been looking for you. We’ve all been worried.”

“How did you-”

“Come on Prudence, you know me,” he rolled his eyes, stepping closer to her, she took a step back in reflex. “You know I’ll never let you go. You can run, you can hide. You can move three or four fucking states-leave the country even! And I will always find you. I’ll always be here.” he smiled at her, “And you know why?” he tapped the knife against his temple, “cuz I’m in here. I’ll always be in here.” She felt a hard surface behind her. Shit. Kai grinned, stepping closer still and placing the knife against the base of her throat. “You’ll never be rid of me.” Something sharp poked Prudence in the side, she reached up, trying to hit him, but he blocked her hand with his arm. Her eyes widened as she saw the tip of the needle he’d had hidden in his sleeve. She grabbed at him, her legs suddenly felt like jello, he backed up and she fell forward, onto her knees. “Nightly Night.” the floor came rushing towards her, but darkness met her first.

Prudence was standing at the beginning of a long pier. Ahead of her she someone. A woman, in a black dress, long brown hair flowing behind her. Lexa. She began to run. Calling out to her lost lover. The more she ran the further Lexa seemed to get-

“Wake up.” Prudence groaned, someone was shaking her shoulder, making her brain bounce around inside of her head. It hurt to open her eyes, but when she finally did, and they adjusted she realized two things.

One. She wasn’t in the motel room anymore.

Two. She was chained to a mattress, Her arms hanging from the headboard.

She looked over to see the face of her nightmares. Kai stood over her, he had been the one shaking her, She tried to scream, only to feel a gag covering her mouth. Panic began to snake up her body, lighting her on fire with adrenaline. Kai walked around to the front of the bed. Towering over her like the boogeyman.

“Now, I understand if you still don’t trust me….I’ve done some things that….You might not agree with.” Prudence snarled, her eyes narrowing. Kai ignored her. “But you’ll see soon enough, that it all came from a place of love. I mean look at you!” he shouted, pointing at her, “I saved you! That man! He would have killed you! Or left you to die! I would never! I found you! I saved you!” He came back around toward her, and sat next to her on the bed. He looked at her with a tenderness that made her want to puke, she was repulsed, disgusted and her heart ached. She couldn’t look at him without thinking about Lexa. What he had done to her.

“Now I love you. And I hope you see….I hope you see what I’ve been trying to tell you all along. That you love me too.” he pulled the gag down off of her mouth. Prudence sighed in relief, her jaw ached. “Tell me. Tell me you love me.” she hawked a big loogie, and spit it at him.

Rage flickered over his face, it passed quickly, before he stood, scratching the back of his head. “I hate you. Fuck you.” she spat again. He tsked, shaking his head.

“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this. But I can’t have you trying to run away.” He pulled a thick board from beneath the bed, and something else, that dangled from his arm, just out of Her sight. She glared at him, resilience conquering her fear. “You ever see the movie Misery?” She had. She hated it. But she didn’t answer him. “This kind woman saves her favorite author from a snowstorm and he’s ungrateful. So she punishes him. So he’ll see that she loves him. She just wants him to be happy with her and make things right.” They must have seen two very different versions of that movie. “You know what she does when she finds out he snuck out? She hobbled him.” And it was that moment, that Prudence realized just what he was intending to do. She squirmed, trying to get away, only then did she realize her feet were chained too. He sets the board between her ankles. “Don’t squirm or I’ll miss and it’ll be worse. Tears streamed down Prudence’s face, loud, broken sobs escaping her throat.” Kai lifted the sledgehammer over his shoulder with both hands.

“Kai! Please!” Prudence cried out for mercy. He shook his head, face unchanging.

“You’ll learn to like it here. Or at the very least, you’ll learn to see things my way.”

He brought the hammer down.

Michael felt good. Blood splattered his shirt and his chin, his hands were covered in the dried substance. But he felt relief, a good kill was kinda like sex. It released the tension. He could focus all of his anger. All of his hate. All of his rage. That’s why he was so good at it. He could focus and then disassociate quickly when it was over.

But this time was different. He worried about Prudence . He’d called the hotel room a couple times, she didn’t answer, so he figured she fell asleep. But that didn’t sit right with him. It wasn’t as late as he’d expected, surely she’d still be up. He shook his head. He didn’t even know why he was worried, what did it matter, tomorrow he’d be leaving her at a bus station with a ticket and going to his own home.

He pulled up to the motel room and parked the van, slamming the door as he stepped out of it. But when he saw their room, he dropped his keys and ran inside.

The door was standing open, and when he went in She was gone. All of his things were there, everything was in order. She was just….. gone. He cursed and ran a hand through his hair, jogging outside to pick up his keys and come back in. Maybe she took off on her own. He thought. Saves me a trip to the bus station. He tried to feel some sort of relief, but it didn’t come. There was a feeling of dread in the room, and when he almost stepped on the syringe on the floor, he knew. He knew Prudence hadn’t gone of her own free will. What the fuck happened? He fell back onto the edge of his bed, holding the syringe in his hands. There was a bit of liquid still inside. He watched it move as he tilted it back and forth in his hand.

Six Months Later:

Prudence learned fast early on. Just submit and she wouldn't be punished.

The hobbling wasn’t even the worst of the things Kai had done to her. He completely stripped her of her identity. Bit by bit. To the point that she no longer even spoke. Just limped around with her head down and her mouth shut. The abuse she faced was almost always psychological, only getting physical when she really infuriated him.

Kai had forced her to watch as slowly, little by little, news coverage and search parties dwindled. He told her her parents thought she was dead, that no one was looking for her, and eventually all the hope left her. She shut off, and became even more of a shell of herself.

Prudence. Lexa. Michael. Kai. None of that was real anymore. She had completely dissociated from who she had been. She was beyond numb. She had become hollow.

#michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon one shot #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon x you #michael langdon #american horror story 1984 #american horror story #cody fern #ahs: 1984 #ahs apocolaypse #ahs one shot #ahs fanfic #ahs fanfiction #ahs imagine #cody fern fanfic #cody fern x reader #cody fern imagine

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blue-and-dog · 4 years

Text

His Father’s Eyes (A Sengoku Basara One-Shot)

(Feat: Ishida Mitsunari)

(Alternative title: Mitsun & Son)

(Illustration is a commission by @nekkyousagi)

Their small home was deep in the mountains. Hidden away from prying eyes. Or any eyes, really.

A small, humble hideaway. Away from the chaos of human society; away from pointing fingers and anguished screams for vengeance; away from pitying gazes.

Koromaru let out a soft grunt as he felt a wet nose nudge his cheek; opening his eyes, the boy found a furry white face staring back at him. 

“Shiranui...” he whispered, reaching up and placing a hand on the dog’s head as he sat up, looking around the room. His mother, younger brother and younger sister were all still asleep; his father was missing. Then again, he rarely ever saw his father asleep in bed; whenever he saw him asleep, his father had usually nodded off in some odd place around the house. Carefully, Koromaru crept out of the room, Shiranui slowly padding after him; when he entered the main area of the home, he saw his father at the front door, in the process of closing it behind him; he had a small knife sheathed at his side, and a bow and quiver on his back.

He paused as he spotted his son over his shoulder.

“...did I wake you?” he asked. Koromaru shook his head. “...I’m going to check the traps. I won’t be long.”

“Can I come?” Koromaru asked gently. His father paused again.

“I suppose,” he finally replied. Koromaru smiled a bit at this, nodding to Shiranui as the pair followed his father out the door, closing it behind them.

Ishida Mitsunari. The Dark King. Long since gone into hiding with his family since the Tokugawa Shogunate had been established. If anything, he would have died on the battlefield, in his lord’s name, where he felt he belonged.

But...by that point, he already had other obligations.

Koromaru’s father rarely smiled or, quite frankly, changed expression. There was an almost defeated emptiness to him; though he was alive, and with a wife and a legacy, he seemed still very lost and aimless. Koromaru’s mother once confided in him that his father had lost a great deal.

What sorts of things did he lose, he had asked.

A lot of things that meant everything to him. When he is ready, he will tell you, she had replied.

As Koromaru trailed after his father, watching his lean frame in the morning sun peeking through the treetops, he almost seemed like a spent wick, or discarded torch—a flame that had long since been extinguished.

In that moment, Shiranui suddenly took off at a sprint, vanishing like the wind around the bend.

“Seems he found his breakfast,” Mitsunari remarked. Silence. Mitsunari glanced at Koromaru, then kept walking.

Did he just try to start a conversation...? Koromaru thought.

“....like the wolf from the story,” Koromaru spoke up; Mitsunari seemed to twitch, almost in surprise, then looked back at him again, “Shiranui in the story was so fast he could evade nearly anything.”

“...yes.”

A classic tale told many times by Koromaru’s mother, to the wide-eyed attention of her children; the tale of the mysterious white wolf who helped a hero defeat an eight-headed serpent.

“...father, do you like that story?” Koromaru asked.

“...I don’t really care for fairy tales,” Mitsunari replied as he stepped over a creek; Koromaru instead walked right through it, “Reality is enough for me.”

“Really? But you listen when mom tells the story to the rest of us....”

“There’s no harm in it. Besides, you all like it. Enough to name the dog after it, even.”

Come to think of it, Mitsunari was usually off to the side doing something else whenever his wife entertained the children. Preparing traps to place outside, looking out at the stars....or cleaning that sword.

It was something he treasured more than anything; Koromaru’s mother had warned him and his siblings many times to never touch or play with it. The one time Koromaru had grabbed it out of curiosity was the one time he saw the light of unbridled rage in his father’s eyes. He snatched the sword from his son’s hand with one violent swipe; his knuckles were white from his grip on the scabbard. But, in that moment, he grit his teeth, clenched his fist, lowered his head, and sent Koromaru out of the room with a single-worded command. When Koromaru saw him next, he was merely reminded not to touch his father’s things. His father’s eyes were dull again.

His recollection was broken by the sound of a faint snap; he looked down to see his father kneeling by a snare trap, picking up a now-dead rabbit.

“It’s a good size,” Mitsunari remarked to nobody in particular as he raised the rabbit to eye-level. He glanced to Koromaru, then looked up as he heard Shiranui’s footfalls; the dog came to a stop before him. “I take it you’re quite finished?”

The dog merely sneezed. Mitsunari snorted, then looked back to his son. “We’ll see if we can get some pheasants, too.”

“I don’t see them around here much...” Koromaru replied.

“There’s an area lower on the mountain. I usually prefer to go down there with just Shiranui, to flush them out. Typically the sun is barely up when I go down there...but we should be fine.”

There shouldn’t be anyone traveling around there, he thought. Please, please, let there be no prying eyes.

“Come on,” he continued, “I’ll show you, but you have to be quiet when we get there. They frighten easily.”

Koromaru had faintly seen a glimmer of something in his father’s eyes as he spoke more freely. Like he was letting his son in on his methods. A master passing down his wisdom. Mitsunari placed the dead rabbit in a sack, passing it to his son to carry.

Mitsunari began to lead Koromaru down a winding path, Shiranui bringing up the rear; the trip was made in (mostly) silence, until...

“Koro.” Mitsunari spoke up. Koromaru flinched, then looked at him in surprise. Mitsunari seemed briefly surprised at *his* surprise.

“Koro...?” Koromaru echoed.

“That’s what Tatsuhime calls you, isn’t it? Is there a problem?”

True, his younger sister preferred to shorten his name. But Mitsunari didn’t seem the type to use nicknames, so why...?

“N-no. It’s fine. What is it?”

“...why did you ask to come with me today? You’ve been up around the same time I was leaving many times before and you’ve never asked to come.”

The question caused Koromaru to pause for a moment. Then, he swallowed. “I....”

“...is something the matter?” Mitsunari stopped as well, turning to face his son.

“..no...it’s just...there’s so much I want to ask you...” he admitted. “I just...can never think of a good time...or something comes up...”

“You wanted to speak to me alone,” Mitsunari concluded. There was that glint of something in his eyes again. Surprise? Intrigue?

“...yeah.”

“...I see. Let’s see what we can catch, then I’ll see if I can answer your questions.”

The pair reached a clearing lower on the mountain, bathed in the morning sun; the brush was twitching with life. Mitsunari removed the bow from his back, nocking an arrow.

“Watch,” he whispered. He clicked his tongue; Shiranui was off in a flash, his white form cleaving through the brush as critters began to flee their shelter. A flash of feathers, and Mitsunari exhaled and fired; the arrow found its target, sending a pheasant crashing to the ground as Shiranui retrieved its carcass moments later, bringing it back to the pair. Mitsunari took the pheasant from Shiranui, looking back at Koromaru.

“Well?”

Koromaru blinked, then nodded. “...I wish I could hunt like that. You’re amazing.”

Mitsunari scoffed. “I’ve missed plenty of times. Archery isn’t my strong suit. Do you want to try?”

“Huh? But Shiranui already scared away the animals...”

“It’ll just be a practice shot.” Mitsunari held out the bow, staring hard at his son. Koromaru’s eyes met his piercing gaze; something had ignited in his father’s eyes. Fascination? A hint of excitement? After a moment’s hesitation, Koromaru took the bow.

“You’re going to aim for the knothole on that tree over there,” Mitsunari pointed, “Start by turning your body sideways.”

As Koromaru followed his father’s instruction, Mitsunari crouched behind him; he reached out and grabbed his son’s left foot. “Relax,” he instructed, as he adjusted Koromaru’s footing to a wider stance. Helping Koromaru nock an arrow, he took his son’s right hand. “You have to hold it with three fingers, tight as you can. You’re going to draw it until your right hand is behind your ear.”

“Okay,” Koromaru muttered, nodding once. Mitsunari guided his hands as he drew the bowstring, past his right ear.

“Steady,” Mitsunari whispered. “Exhale....and fire.”

Right as Koromaru released he string, he felt a burning hot pain at his ear, dropping the bow and grabbing his ear as he doubled over in pain.

“You held it too close to your ear,” Mitsunari stated as he picked up the bow, “A beginner mistake. Understandable, but I’m certain you won’t be making that mistake again. Take a few deep breaths.”

Koromaru did as he was told, breathing heavily, but finally deeply, until he stood up straight, wiping his eyes. He saw Mitsunari pulling the arrow out of the tree.

“You missed the knothole, but you did hit the tree. Not bad for a first shot.” Mitsunari walked over to his son, who was now trying to keep Shiranui from licking his face.

“Ah—!” Koromaru pushed the dog back. “Stop! Your breath smells like death!”

“Death smells far worse,” Mitsunari remarked, “Come on. We’re going home.”

“Yes....” Koromaru picked up the bag now containing the rabbit and pheasant. “Will this be enough?”

“It’ll be plenty. We still have to see what we can harvest, too. You’ll be helping me with that.”

His father was much more talkative than usual, now. With a brief whistle, Mitsunari nodded to Shiranui, who began to follow the pair back up the mountain path.

“Father,” Koromaru began, “can I ask you something?”

“Depends on what it is. But I did agree to answer whatever question you had, so go ahead.” Mitsunari didn’t look back, continuing to lead his son home.

“...are you sad?”

“...how do you mean?”

“...you never smile, and...your eyes always seem kind of....” he struggled for the word.

“Kind of what?”

“...empty.”

Mitsunari stopped walking at that, but didn’t turn around.

“...I’m not quite sure how to answer that, Koro.”

“...Mother said you’ve been through a lot and lost a lot, but...”

“...those are details you don’t need to know. They don’t matter now. But...just because I don’t smile, doesn’t mean I’m not content. I have you and your siblings, and I have your mother. There are few other things I could ask for.”

The answer seemed almost...half-hearted. But, there was still something there in his eyes, as he looked back at his son.

“When you become a man, there will come a day that there will be no one to give you instruction and guide you, and every decision you make will affect those around you. I have made decisions both good and bad. And people have suffered for it...perhaps rightfully so. Despite my attempts otherwise, sometimes these dark memories, these wretched reminders, come creeping back into the front of my mind, clawing their way back in front of my eyes. In those moments...I suppose I am sad.”

Koromaru listened to his father, frowning and dropping his shoulders a bit.

Then, Mitsunari spoke again.

“But, it’s funny.”

Koromaru tilted his head, as Mitsunari, in a rare moment of affection, placed a hand atop his boy’s head.

“Up until now, I hadn’t really thought about that today.”

Mitsunari pulled away, continuing up the path, Shiranui padding after him. Koromaru watched him in silence, then followed after.

To try and nurture that flicker in his father’s eyes.

#sengoku basara #ishida mitsunari #mitsunari ishida #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #one-shot #writing #yes I stuck an okami reference in there; you can’t stop me #capcom

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