#I’ll travel anywhere and pay whatever

[getting-messi]

I think I’ll actually die if I don’t get to see Messi play live

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part Seven

Pairings: Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, idiots in love lol

A/N: Almost done part 8, if you have anywhere you'd like to see the fic go or a certain scene you want dm me :) always open to ideas i just make this shit up as i go lmaooo

----

Your apartment is a swirl of energy as Wanda and Natasha flit around you, each one fussing over the details of your look as you finish your glass of wine. Natasha is practically vibrating with excitement, rummaging through her makeup bag, while Wanda holds out another pair of earrings for you to try. They’re both doing their best to hype you up for this date with Dean, a guy Natasha knows from work.

“You look amazing,” Wanda says, stepping back to admire the final touches.

Natasha grins, tipping her glass to you with a smirk. “Dean isn’t going to know what hit him.”

You laugh, a bit giddy from the wine and the thrill of doing something for yourself. The nerves are there too, though—you haven’t been on a date in ages, and the whole situation feels slightly surreal. Just as you’re about to put your glass down, the front door opens, and loud laughter and chatter fill the entryway. You freeze, your pulse spiking.

“I thought they were supposed to be down the street at the bar?” you hiss, looking at Natasha with wide eyes.

She frowns, confusion flashing across her face. “They are supposed to be.”

Natasha strides out of the room, muttering under her breath as she goes to investigate. You hear her confront them, her voice sharp with irritation. “Why are you guys here? You’re supposed to be at the bar!”

Bucky’s voice cuts through the hallway, a little louder than usual. “This is my place too, Nat. I pay rent here, so don’t expect me to stay away.”

Natasha lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, whatever. Just don’t ruin this for her.”

Before you can catch more of the conversation, Natasha’s phone pings, and her whole expression shifts as she squeals, rushing back into the room. “He’s here!” she exclaims, bouncing on her toes. “Dean just texted—he’s waiting downstairs!”

Your stomach does a flip, and you take a deep breath to calm the nerves. “Is he… is he coming up, or am I going down?”

Natasha studies you for a second, eyebrows raised. “It’s up to you. What do you want?”

You bite your lip, the idea of Dean seeing you in the apartment suddenly feeling way too intimate, especially with Bucky just down the hall. “I’ll go down,” you say, nodding firmly.

Natasha grins, quickly typing a message to Dean. “Alright, you’ve got three minutes to compose yourself, babe.”

With one last look in the mirror, you step out of the room, heart pounding as you walk down the hallway. The boys are in the living room, and as soon as Sam spots you, he lets out a low whistle, his eyes widening.

“Wow,” he says, looking you up and down with an approving grin. “You clean up real nice.”

You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks as Steve and Bucky turn around. Steve’s gaze softens, and he steps forward, his eyes warm and admiring. “You look beautiful,” he says, his voice gentle. “Dean’s the luckiest guy in the world.”

He looks at you with an intensity you’ve never seen from him before, a look that’s almost… longing. You give him a grateful smile, feeling oddly touched. “Thanks, Stevie,” you say softly.

Bucky, however, is still standing a little behind Steve, his jaw slightly slack as he stares at you, seeming momentarily at a loss for words. His gaze travels from your face to the dress, his expression a mix of something you can’t quite name, something unreadable and raw. For a second, the noise and chaos around you fades, and it’s just the two of you, caught in that moment.

Sam, sensing the tension, jumps in with a grin. “Damn, girl, you look hot. Sure you don’t wanna go on a second date with me instead?”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Sorry, Sam. Dean would have to blow it pretty badly for you to get a chance.”

Natasha claps her hands, breaking up the moment as she walks over to you. “Text me if you get a chance or if you need an emergency out. And I need all the details afterward.” She gives you a quick, tight hug, whispering in your ear, “You’re going to be amazing. Just have fun.”

You nod, smiling gratefully as you give her hand a squeeze. With one last look at your friends, you make your way to the door, the nerves hitting you all over again.

As you head downstairs, the sound of laughter and chatter fades behind you, but back in the apartment, the energy shifts. Steve watches you go, a glint of something deep and wistful lingering in his gaze. Natasha catches it, her brows knitting together as she studies his face, watching the way he’s so intently focused on you, even after you’ve disappeared down the stairs.

Natasha squints, suspicion curling in her thoughts. Steve’s expression isn’t the typical friendly warmth she’s used to seeing; there’s something almost pained, raw, and it’s as if a puzzle suddenly clicks into place. Her mouth parts slightly as she realizes—Steve isn’t just fond of you; he’s in love with you. She composes herself quickly, straightening as Steve gives her a look, as if sensing her scrutiny. He shrugs, brushing off the intensity of the moment, and cracks open a beer, plopping onto the couch like nothing’s happened.

Meanwhile, Bucky is still standing, staring at the door as if you might reappear any second. His gaze is fixed, a blend of surprise and… something else. Wanda notices, shaking her head with a quiet scoff.

“You know, you had your chance, Bucky,” she says, her tone sharper than usual.

The room falls silent, everyone taken aback by her bluntness. Wanda’s usually gentle, never one to make waves, but there’s a bite to her words now, and her eyes flash with something almost like annoyance as she glances at him.

Sam, trying to break the tension, chuckles and sidles up to her, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Damn, Wanda, I knew you had some fire in you!” He laughs, grabbing her glass. “Come on, let’s get you a refill.” He leads her toward the kitchen, topping off her wine glass as they disappear into the next room, leaving Bucky, Natasha, and Steve in the thick silence.

Natasha crosses her arms, her gaze locked on Bucky with a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Really, Bucky?” she says, her voice low and pointed.

Bucky blinks, snapping out of his daze. “What?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t stand there looking like that. Just a week ago, you were talking about how you were going to do something about it. You said you were finally going to tell her. But you didn’t. And now you’re acting shocked that she’s moving on? Seriously?”

Bucky’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He fumbles, his hands tightening into fists. “It’s not that simple, Nat…”

“Actually, it is,” Natasha says, her voice steely. “You’ve had years, Bucky. Years to figure it out, and now that she’s found someone who sees her, someone who’s willing to step up and actually do something about it, now you’re all caught up? Do you even know how unfair that is?”

Bucky clenches his jaw, his gaze drifting to the floor. “I… I didn’t think she’d actually… go for someone else.”

Natasha lets out a frustrated sigh, her tone bordering on exasperation. “Well, maybe you should have thought about that. She deserves to be happy, Bucky. She deserves someone who’s not afraid to act, someone who can show her they care instead of just assuming she’ll be there whenever he decides he’s ready.”

Bucky’s face flushes with a mix of frustration and guilt. “It wasn’t that simple. I didn’t want to lose her if things went wrong…”

Natasha’s expression softens, but only slightly. “No, Bucky, you were just scared. You were scared to take a risk and put yourself out there. But she’s spent all these years waiting, and you couldn’t even see what you had. And now that she’s going out with someone who’s willing to treat her like she deserves, you think you can just… act like she still owes you her heart?”

Bucky stares at her, words failing him, the weight of her words hitting him hard. He’s known Natasha to be blunt, but he didn’t expect her to be this brutally honest.

Natasha lets out a sigh, glancing at Steve, who’s been sitting quietly, observing, his eyes downcast. She notices the way he’s twisting his beer bottle in his hands, almost like he’s trying to keep himself from saying something. The tension in his face is palpable, and she realizes with a pang that he’s feeling this conversation deeply, maybe more than he’d like to admit.

She softens her tone slightly, though her words are still firm. “I hate to say it, Bucky, but… you snoozed, and you lost. She deserves more than to wait around forever for someone to decide if they can handle loving her.”

Bucky’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening as he looks away, as if trying to avoid the weight of her words. “I thought I was protecting her. I didn’t want to mess things up between us.”

Natasha’s gaze sharpens, her voice almost a whisper. “Protecting her from what? From being loved the way she deserves? Because that’s what you’re doing, Bucky. You’re keeping her from happiness because you’re afraid to make a move. But she’s not going to wait forever. She’s already stopped waiting.”

She glances toward Steve again, catching the way his shoulders slump slightly, the sad, resigned look in his eyes. Natasha’s lips press together as she puts two and two together. She’d been watching him closely all night, and now, looking at him, it’s clear as day. He’s in love with you too. The realization sends a pang through her, and she composes herself, though the sadness lingers in her eyes.

She turns back to Bucky, her voice softer but no less firm. “You can’t have it both ways, Buck. Either you want her, or you don’t. And if you don’t, then let her be happy with someone who actually sees her, someone who isn’t afraid to let her in.”

Her words hang heavily in the air. Steve shifts uncomfortably, lifting his beer to his lips as if to hide the look in his eyes. Bucky lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair.

--

As you step out of your apartment building and spot Dean right away. He’s leaning against his car, a relaxed smile spreading across his face as he straightens up when he sees you. He’s tall, broad-shouldered like Bucky, but everything else about him is different. Where Bucky is dark and a bit rough around the edges, Dean is blond, clean-cut, and sharp in a tailored navy-blue button-down and jeans.

“Hey,” he says, his smile widening as he takes you in. “Wow. You look… incredible.”

You can’t help but blush, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Thank you. And you’re not looking so bad yourself.”

He laughs, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

You nod, slipping your arm through his, feeling a surprising ease settle over you. There’s no tension, no weight from the past—just the excitement of a first date and the feeling that tonight might actually be something good.

The two of you end up at a cozy bistro down the street, the kind of place with low lighting and an intimate atmosphere. It’s bustling but not too loud, with the hum of conversation and the soft clink of silverware filling the air.

As you settle into your seats and glance over the menu, Dean looks up with a playful grin. “So, full disclosure—I know next to nothing about wine. But I figured I’d go with the flow since you seem like the classy type.”

You laugh, glancing down at the wine list. “Well, we can just wing it together. I’m more of a ‘whatever tastes good’ kind of person.”

“Perfect,” he says, signalling the waiter over. “A bottle of your favourite wine, then. Surprise us.”

When the waiter leaves, Dean leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his attention completely focused on you. “So, Natasha talks about you a lot. I feel like I already know a little about you… but I’d rather hear it from you.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, she does? Should I be worried?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, no. She’s your biggest fan, actually. She said you’re the one everyone goes to for advice. Like, you’re the unofficial therapist of the friend group.”

“Oh, gosh,” you say, laughing and covering your face. “She makes me sound way too put together, I’m really just good at listening.”

“Well,” he says, a twinkle in his eye, “I’m going to test that tonight. You’ll have to sit there while I unload all my existential woes.”

“Lay them on me,” you reply, grinning. “I’m ready.”

He leans back, pretending to think. “Okay, first existential crisis: why are Brussels sprouts so divisive? Seriously, no one’s just ‘meh’ about them, people either love them or hate them.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I know, right? I mean, they’re just tiny cabbages. It’s not that deep!”

“Exactly!” he says, pointing at you with an exaggerated look of triumph. “See, you get it…. and now I know I can trust you. This date is officially off to a solid start.”

You laugh, feeling genuinely at ease. When the wine arrives, the two of you clink glasses, settling into a comfortable rhythm of laughter and banter.

“So, tell me,” Dean says, after the waiter clears your plates. “If you could pick anywhere in the world to live, where would you go?”

You take a sip of wine, thinking it over. “Hmm… somewhere with a mix of city life and nature, I think. I want the excitement, but I’d need a place to escape to, you know?”

He nods, his gaze warm as he listens. “I get that. I’m a city guy myself, but every now and then, I need to get out, hit a hiking trail, or just… breathe.”

“Exactly,” you say, smiling. “Somewhere with balance. Not too much of one or the other.”

He grins, raising his glass again. “To balance, then.”

“To balance,” you echo, clinking glasses with him once more. There’s a spark in his eyes, an ease in his laugh, that makes you feel like you’ve known him longer than just tonight.

The conversation flows seamlessly, with no awkward silences, no scrambling to think of what to say next. You talk about favorite movies, disastrous childhood crushes, and the time you both got stuck in terrible jobs after college—he was an assistant to an eccentric artist, while you worked as a receptionist at a law firm where you barely understood the jargon. He tells stories that have you practically in tears with laughter, like the time his mom signed him up for a tap-dancing class because she was convinced it would help him become more “well-rounded.”

“Tap dancing?” you ask, eyes wide with laughter. “Please tell me there’s a video of this.”

“There’s a video,” he admits, grimacing. “But it’ll never see the light of day. That’s a first-date boundary I’m sticking to.”

You shake your head, laughing. “I respect that. But now I feel like I’ll have to wait for date number two for that one.”

He raises an eyebrow, his grin mischievous. “Date number two, huh? So, you’re already planning to see me again?”

You feel a little thrill at his words, but you play it cool, taking another sip of wine. “Maybe. If you play your cards right.”

“Oh, I’m bringing out my best moves, trust me,” he says, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I’ve already pulled out the Brussels sprouts bit. That’s a crowd favorite.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. “It’s working…I have to admit.”

There’s a warmth in his gaze as he watches you laugh, and for once, you realize you’re completely in the moment. You’re not comparing him to anyone, not glancing at the door or waiting for a text, not thinking about Bucky or any of the unresolved feelings you’ve kept buried. Tonight, it’s just you and Dean, and everything feels light and uncomplicated.

“So,” he says after a pause, his tone shifting just slightly, “what’s something you want people to know about you, that most people don’t?”

You blink, surprised by the question. “Wow, that’s a deep one.”

“Hey, I’ve got layers,” he teases, but his smile is gentle, his expression open and curious.

After a moment’s thought, you answer, “I think… I want people to know that I’m stronger than they might think. I don’t always show it, but I’ve been through things that have taught me a lot about who I am and what I want.”

He nods, his gaze thoughtful. “I can see that. And for the record, I think strength isn’t always about what you show. Sometimes, it’s what you keep inside.”

The sincerity in his voice takes you off guard, and you feel your heart skip. “Thank you, Dean. Really.”

“Of course,” he says, his voice warm. “I feel lucky to be here with you tonight.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that doesn’t need filling. When you’re finally ready to leave, he insists on walking you back, saying he wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise. The street is quiet as he walks beside you, his hand close to yours but never crossing the line. You like that about him—his respect, his gentle confidence.

As you reach your building, he stops, looking down at you with a smile that’s both warm and hopeful.

“So, date number two?” he asks, a hint of nervousness in his smile.

You smile, feeling light and happy in a way you haven’t in a long time. “I’d really like that.”

He grins, and before he leaves, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter. “Goodnight, beautiful,” he says softly.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

You watch him walk away, your heart racing and a smile on your face. As you head upstairs, you realize something incredible—throughout the entire night, your mind hadn’t wandered once. No stray thoughts, no memories pulling you back. Tonight, it had just been you, fully present, fully open, and for the first time in a long time, you feel ready for something new.

[sev-on-kamino]

Could you do something for f!reader x tech for prompt 14 or 12? No pressure though. LOVE YOUR WRITING 🩷✨

I can, and I will, friend! Thank you so freakin’ much 🥹🥰 I apologize this took so long 😩, but I hope you love it🥰

Blossoming Romance #14: Looking at their lips as they talk (prompt list here)

Tech x afab!Reader

warnings: prepare yourself for fluff, a lil misunderstanding, followed by more fluff🥰

word count: 772

Tech liked to talk, and you liked to listen. The topic didn’t matter. Linguistics, flora and fauna, the finer points of hyperspace travel. You absorbed it all like a sponge. He would get so excited, yet serious. His eyes lighting up, his hands gesturing about. His voice holding your focus captive.

You loved it all, but lately you were distracted. You’d ask a question, he’d launch into the answer, but instead of focusing on the answer, and adding to your increasing compendium of knowledge, your mind would wander. Your eyes hopelessly drawn to his lips.

Every so often his tongue would dart past his teeth to wet his lips, and it would really take everything you had to pretend you’d heard whatever he’d just said. It was growing more and more difficult not to interrupt him with kisses. You wanted to tug his helmet off, press up against him, and indulge in those lips of his. Unfortunately your split focus had not gone unnoticed.

Tech had been thrilled to finally meet someone who could not only handle his tendency to dig into almost any subject in great detail, but who seemed to genuinely enjoy every moment. Lately though it seemed like your mind was anywhere else. The friendship turned relationship was still new, but according to Tech’s research you shouldn’t have been bored of him already. There was still so much for the two of you to learn about each other.

You still sought him out, still asked him to teach you things. It didn’t make any sense to him when you would inevitably get distracted and he’d lose you for several moments.

“Tech,” you called, as you entered the cockpit holding your holopad. “It’s giving me that error message again. What issue did you say corresponds to code 221B4?”

“Leave it there, and I’ll fix it,” He replied not looking up from the piece of equipment he was working on.

“You don’t have to. I wanted to try myself,” you took the seat next to him, and watched him. “What are you working on?”

“The alluvial dampers,” Tech answered. You waited for him to continue like he always did, but he just kept on working. Your brow furrowed in confusion.

“Those go in the coupling motivator with the artesiatic dampeners, right?” You pushed.

Tech looked up, his lips pursing into a thin line, as he regarded you. Normally recalling information would earn you a smile, and if you were really lucky, he’d press his forehead to yours.

“Yes, that is correct,” he said after several seconds that felt like hours.

“Alright, Tech, what’s going on? Are you upset with me?” You asked utterly confused by his icy behavior.

“I’m merely surprised you remembered given that you no longer bother to pay attention during our conversations.”

Your face warmed up instantly, and you tugged nervously at your earlobe.

“Tech,” you ventured quietly.

“It’s quite alright. Even my brothers don’t listen as attentively as I would like at all times.”

“It’s not that,” you said with a nervous chuckle. “I’ve been wanting to pay attention, I’m just a little distracted is all.”

“Distracted by what?” he asked confused. You cleared your throat and took a breath.

“Distracted by you, Tech,” you said staring down at the floor.

“I’m not following, cyare.”

“It’s…it’s your lips,” You stammered out. He brushed his fingers over his lips, frowning in confusion.

“What about them? Is there something wrong with them?”

“No, not at all. Quite the opposite,” you giggled. “I just keep thinking about kissing you.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but he was rendered speechless by the realization you had simply wished to connect with him physically. It made sense given what he knew of your affectionate nature, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized sooner.

“Well, I apologize for my assumption and subsequent accusations,” He said placing the piece of equipment down, and reaching for you. You took his hand, giggling once more as he tugged you into his lap. You cupped his face with your hands, as you brought your lips to his, satisfaction spreading warmth and comfort through your body.

Tech wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close. Imparting knowledge to you would always be something he enjoyed, but he decided he would make time for this far more often. The contented hums this simple action elicited were far too enjoyable to miss out on.

You broke the kiss with a sigh, and pressed your forehead to his with a small smile playing on your lips.

“Apology accepted, darling,” You said before leaning in to steal his lips once more

[goddesstrolls]

“You really don’t have anywhere... Better, to practice?” Nirael dug a half-buried rock out of the earth with his boot and kicked it aside, in a vain attempt to even out the terrain.

The two of them stood in a forested clearing, the same forest Kairos had been coming to in order to practice necromancy in relative peace and secrecy.

“I can’t exactly live in my castle, with the distance to travel.” Kairos drawled in response. “The Fleet doesn’t pay for work commute.”

“Your castle,” Nirael muttered under his breath, and Kairos narrowed their eyes but deigned not to reply. “I mean, you have a hive, don’t you?”

“Yes, I’ll just crash through my upstairs neighbor’s ceiling with a few giant spires of ice, that will be a good way to introduce myself.”

Nirael rolled his eyes, tilting his head back in exasperation. “You don’t even have your own hive? You’re the descendant of royalty, and I thought fuchsias-”

“-You assaulted me last time I attempted to take so much as a fraction of the wealth I had access to as your descendant. I never had an Empire stipend either. Do you legitimately expect me to pull fantastic sums of money out of my ass? I can’t exactly go conquering-”

“-Alright, alright, you’ve made your point.” Nirael waved his hands in an attempt to halt Kairos in their tirade. “Let’s just get started.” He heaved a sigh to collect himself, and then held a hand out. With a deep, sudden rumble, the ground leveled itself, and then a rune appeared carved in the earth.

“This rune will let me monitor your magic a bit more closely while you cast. So just stand on it, and cast something.”

“I keep telling you that I can’t cast anything,” Kairos grumbled as they moved to stand on the rune.

Nirael waved a hand again, dismissive. “Whatever. Just stand on it and do something.”

As Kairos set foot on the rune, it glowed red, strands of light weaving around their legs and limbs. Kairos looked unsettled, warily eyeing the light coiling around their forearm.

“Go on,” Nirael prompted, and Kairos sighed before holding their hand out towards a nearby tree.

Ice erupted from it in jagged, violent spires, shattering the trunk and threatening to knock it over- If not for the ice now holding it together.

Nirael stared for a long moment, and with his silence, Kairos glanced over at him.

“What are you doing?” Nirael asked finally, and Kairos furrowed their brow.

“Using my magic. Like you asked.”

“I mean, what are you trying to do. Try casting something.”

Kairos opened their mouth to respond, clearly annoyed, but Nirael interrupted as they took an offended breath. “Just try, Kairos.”

Kairos gave a growl of frustration and grit their teeth, and held a hand out at the same tree with spikes of ice spewing from it. After a few moments of focus, their brow furrowing, the ice shattered and the tree, devoid of support, collapsed with a crash.

“Excellent! I think you did what you were trying to,” Nirael grinned.

Kairos was staring in shock, having not even lowered their hand. “I... Never managed to do that before.”

“Well, we confirmed that you can. Try something else.”

Kairos threw an uncertain look to Nirael, before casting a glance around the clearing and visually picking out a rock sitting on the ground. They held their hand towards it, their fingertips now trembling from the anxiety of using their magic after so many disastrous consequences prior. Several moments passed, their tremor growing as they exerted more magical energy and their anxiety heightened- And then ice erupted from their arm outwards, and they flinched to avoid getting skewered in the face.

They hissed in frustration and planted their free hand on the ice caging their other limb, attempting to destroy the ice as they’d done with the tree. Instead, spires of ice erupted out of the ground by their feet, narrowly avoiding spearing their legs and instead only growing around them, locking half their body in ice.

“Goddamnit,” Kairos snarled, and squirmed uselessly, trying to garner enough force to break free of the ice with sheer strength.

“Hmh,” Nirael merely sounded thoughtful, and stepped over to lay a hand on the ice, effortlessly shattering it into fine crystals. “What were you trying to do the first time?”

“I was just trying to lift the rock.” Growled Kairos, dusting powdered snow off themselves.

“And you were trying to destroy the ice the second time, yeah?”

“Yes. That must have been a fluke.” Kairos gestured at the shattered tree. Nirael twisted his lips in a frown.

“Well, I can see what the issue is. You lack the will to manifest.” Kairos shot him a confused, annoyed look, and Nirael continued. “You get all antsy when you try to cast, and that doesn’t help either. But the main issue is your willpower.”

“I don’t know what the fuck that’s supposed to mean.” Kairos snarled. “I’ve tried to do things before with plenty of intent and desire to do so. Everything I’ve read implies that is all I need.”

“Mmm... Sort of?” Nirael scratched his jaw thoughtfully. “Or at least, usually, yes, that’s all you need. But you’re lacking...” He trailed off into thoughtful silence.

“I’m lacking what.” Spat Kairos.

“Patience, first of all!” Snapped Nirael in response. “Direction, second. Your magic is just exploding out of you because you aren’t directing it properly.”

“I don’t know how I can comprehend how to do that if I do not understand innately.”

“I don’t know either,” Nirael folded his arms, clearly still trying to think while Kairos bared their teeth in frustration. “Okay, let me ask you something. Why do you want to study magic?”

Kairos paused for a moment, and then tossed up a hand. “I don’t have a reason. It’s just something I used to do. Something I should be good at.”

“Mmh,” Nirael frowned. “Okay. I get it, I guess.”

“Care to explain? You seem to understand more than I do at the moment.”

“Ehh.” Nirael grimaced, and waggled his head, clearly hesitant to share his revelation. “I’ll get back to you on that. Here’s some homework instead: First of all, get back to the basics. Start with literally the simplest things- Like lifting that rock- And keep at it until you can do it. But more importantly, I need you to find a reason to study magic. To study necromancy, whatever.”

“I’d honestly rather not. It’s not worth it. At this point it’s just an expectation.”

“Okay, well, then internalize that expectation until it becomes your reason. Until it guides your will. That’ll solve your problem. Let me know if you have any interesting results.”

Nirael turned on his heel to leave before Kairos could respond, deep in thought, and Kairos just tossed their hand up in exasperated resignation and shook their head.

[empyrangel]

Right, babygirl, I’m not replying to all of this because I simply cannot be asked to care about your incessant whining, but I’ll take some shots.

First of all, quit acting like the anime doesn’t spoil the quest. Paimon was constantly like “oh would the knave actually do that it’s so horrible!” Every time Clervie would mention something about the darkness in the hearth or we found out some stupid red herring like Arle executing people for trying to leave, she would keep going in and on about that. It was a huge part of the quest and it was obviously something the audience was supposed to be in suspense about except we couldn’t because we already knew that all this was about the old knave and not the current one because of the anime. The quest is partially about the past whether you like it or not.

Secondly, you made a pretty big assumption there, and of course it didn’t pay off. I never denied that some of the characters were murderers. I never said that other characters weren’t also terrible people. Who are you even arguing with about this because it sure ain’t me. I’m fully fucking aware that Raiden has killed/been responsible for many deaths, but just like with Arle, hoyo handwaved all that away in favor of making her more marketable. Raiden was forgiven almost immediately and faced no consequences for her actions. She’s now good friends with the traveler and Paimon and no one ever brings up her war crimes except when the game wants to joke about them. It’s not that I don’t realize there are villains in this game, it’s that all the villains are handled terribly.

Your third point is weird because you’re actually agreeing with me that the ending was predictable but you’re still weirdly hostile about it?? Of course its due to yet another assumption, I expected this from the likes of you. It’s ironic that you think I’m the one who needs critical thinking skills when you’re the one who’s so rabidly set on interpreting every single word I say in the most bad faith possible way that you’re actually claiming to know my own intentions better than me. For your information, I wasn’t trying to “flex how smart I am” or whatever with that point. I was criticizing the ending for being predictable. Again, ironic that you claim I’m the one who lacks media literacy when you need someone else to explain to you that plot twists being predictable from the very beginning of the story is bad actually and is in fact a flaw that should be criticized.

Not you saying the point of Crucabena’s character wasn’t to show that Arle was better but just that she was different, and then saying that because we’ve seen what Crucabena did I “have to admit [Arle’s] better.” How many times can I say ironic before I get tired of it?

You know what? I am getting tired of this so I’m gonna try to wrap it up (which is easy considering half of what you’re saying literally isn’t relevant or you don’t actually expand on it. Seriously, you can’t claim the quest is actually about the siblings fixing the flaws in the system and not give examples of that actually happening. If you make a claim you have to back it up, that’s like debate 101). You say that the narrative is in fact aware of Arle’s flaws and that the ending wasn’t about sucking her off despite all the evidence to the contrary and no evidence to support your point.

I mean it’s just awfully fucking convenient that you completely ignored how Fremi and Lynette said that Arle’s fight had them bedridden for two days and unable to move and yet they’re still singing her praises at the end, about how they need to thank her, how she’s what makes the hearth feel like home, how they’d follow her anywhere. How Lyney literally calls her a hero and says her kindness to him must be repaid right after she forced him to fight her for the lives of the other members. And of course how Clervie, who was dedicated to calling out the cruelty in the hearth expressed that she approves of Arle’s actions and thinks she’s a great knave. “The narrative is aware that Arle is morally grey” my ass. The ending was just a bunch of Arle worship and characters ignoring all the heinous things she did. That’s an objective fact and not up for debate. Look at all that dick sucking, especially from a character who is explicitly stated to supposed to know better and tell me it’s self aware. You’re just biased and are seeing things that aren’t there. You’re just admitting you know nothing about how genshin works. This game doesn’t do subtlety. When the game wants you to know something, Paimon will repeat it 30 times in her annoying ass voice. Sure, a better piece of media would be able to pull of that kind of subtlety with showing how the characters are brainwashed while still being self aware about a morally grey character’s actions, but that’s not what we’re dealing with. I’m not giving genshin credit for something it didn’t do, no matter how much you bitch and whine about my “lack of media literacy.” I don’t care. What kind of motivation would I possibly have to care what some random butthurt stranger on tumblr thinks of me?

Please actually listen to my argument before you write long reblog posts critiquing it. That way maybe you can write counter arguments that actually refute my points instead of just making several dozen wrong assumptions about my personal intentions, and yelling about media comprehension like a broken record while simultaneously displaying your own lack of said skills, and agreeing with my points but taking your anger out on me anyway.

Finally got around to doing the Arlecchino story quest and I gotta say. what the fuck. genuinely this might be the worst story genshin has ever put out

I was so hyped for it between all of the quests in Fontaine being so good up until now, and the trailer making it seem really dramatic and tense and like it was really going to go in depth about the dynamics in the house of the hearth, just for it to be as boring as it was frustrating.

Part of what made it such a bore to sit through is that we already knew exactly what was going to happen in it. They spoiled so much of it with that terrible amine short they put out prior to the quest. There was no mystery or suspense around Clervie’s identity or all the terrible things she was accusing the house and the Knave of because we already knew she was Arle’s childhood friend and she was talking about the old Knave and not the current one. Seriously, why did they release that short before the quest? And everything that wasn’t spoiled beforehand was painfully predictable. When they were talking about Arle executing people for just wanting a better life than being forced to work for a terrorist organization, I knew there was no way they were going to commit to that. That is way to absurd and cruel and they were absolutely going to chicken out from making Arle villainous so it had to be a red herring. I joked to myself that there was going to be some big reveal about how actually Arle hasn’t been killing these people, she’s just been putting them in witness protection and giving them new civilian identities to live under. And you’re fucking telling me that they actually pulled that shit? Like unironically that was the route they chose to go with? That’s laughable.

This applies to the anime short as well as the quest, but Crucabena was such a one-dimensional cardboard cutout of a character. She was evil to an absurd, almost comical degree, and that’s literally all she was. It’s so obvious she only exists to make Arle look like a better Knave by comparison (and to give her a pathetic sob story of a childhood). She’s not even her own character and she only exists as a foil for Arle, that’s ridiculous.

And that leads into my biggest problem with this quest, which is not only how they absolutely refuse to let Arle be portrayed as a villain or even a morally grey character, but how that leads to insane levels of favoritism that simultaneously harms her character, the characters of everyone else in the quest, and the story itself. I mean the narrative really bends to Arle’s favor in a borderline Mary-Sue-like manner.

She’s all-knowing, apparently. She just knows about both of the plots going down behind her back with no explanation as to why and no prior characterization of her as being omniscient. She knows because she’s ✨special✨ and she just does. Neuvillette has been established to have the power to resonate with and read people’s emotions, but oh so conveniently he can’t read Arle’s emotions. No explanation as to why except that she’s just ✨special✨ and ✨emotionally repressed✨ and he just can’t. She’s also omnipotent btw, because we can’t have the audience believing that Arle is anything other the most perfect most special girlie in Teyvat. The traveler has fought and won against gods, and dragons, and dragon gods, and three other harbingers? Well fuck all of that because they can’t beat this mortal human with ✨special✨ fire magic. Did I mention how strong and special she is? What even was that fight though? Again, the trailer hyped it up so much just for it to fall completely flat. The traveler didn’t manipulate the elements, why not? Were they even trying? Arle just showed them some vision and it completely disabled them. But the audience doesn’t have the context as the what the vision was or what it means (because god forbid we ever get any traveler lore) so it just feels like some lazy cop-out to make sure Arle won the fight no matter what, because she’s the most specialist girl and she’s the best at everything. Can’t have her looking weak.

And that’s another thing, Arle doesn’t have any weaknesses or character flaws. Technically she does, for example she is extremely emotionally repressed. But the narrative isn’t aware that’s a flaw and therefore doesn’t treat it like one, instead she’s treated like the pinnacle of existence. She’s all-knowing, undefeatable in combat, immune to all other characters abilities, a master manipulator, she always has the upper hand against everyone else, she’s intelligent, organized, ruthless, unable to be influenced by emotion, she’s everything except a well-rounded character because this game is so insistent on keeping from Arle from actually being shown as a villain that they somehow did a 180 and made everyone think of her as a hero and the greatest thing since sliced bread. And that leads me to the worst problem with this quest.

The massive Arle dick sucking contest that is the end of the story quest. What the hell was that? Instead of killing people for simply wanting a better life, it turns out Arle forcibly removes people’s personalities and sense of self in a process that is explicitly stated to be extremely painful, and then drops them off in the court of Fontaine with no memories and no idea who they are to fend for themselves for the rest of their lives, but apparently since she doesn’t kill people everyone starts worshiping the ground she walks on? Did everyone conveniently forget that Arle forces children to join the house, then manipulates them into not trying to leave by pretending that the penalty for that is death, and then when people inevitably begin to hate her for being a piece of shit, she removes people’s personalities and sense of self in a process that is explicitly stated to be extremely painful, and then drops them off in the court of Fontaine with no memories and no idea who they are to fend for themselves for the rest of their lives. And on top of that, she’s brainwashed the children of the house to believe that not wanting to forcibly work for a terrorist organization for the rest of your life is the same as betraying your family. And she made the siblings believe that they had to fight her and win to get her to spare the other members when she was going to do that already. Let’s not pretend all that’s not extremely fucked up.

But then you have the two npc’s who were wanting to leave apologizing to her because they were pissed she forced them into the house and made leaving illegal? Like wtf are you apologizing for, you guys are completely in the right? And Lynette and Freminet, who had been beaten by Arle so badly they said they couldn’t move for two days were like “Well that wasn’t even 1% of her power, she could’ve killed us if she wanted to but she went easy, we’re very grateful for that.” Grateful for fucking what? That she didn’t kill you? That’s absurd. And Lyney, who is currently being groomed by Arlecchino to soon take her place in the cycle of abuse, thanks Arle for sparing him and letting him be in the house. He calls her a hero. These people think they actually owe Arle lives for bringing them into the hearth wtf. When I said that the Arle favoritism was ruining other’s characters besides her own, this is what I meant. The siblings could have had some development in this quest. They could have finally woken up to Arle’s manipulation and we could have some nuance to their opinions on and loyalty to Arlecchino while still having them stay in the house because it’s the only home and family they know. But no, all of that got trashed in favor of showing the audience how great Arle is for not killing and experimenting on children and how everyone loves her, and is blindly obedient, and never questions her.

But I think the worst of it was Clervie. We get that whole backstory about how Clervie dedicated her life to seeking freedom and opposing Crucabena’s terrible way of leading until she couldn’t take it anymore and decided the only way to be free was to die. And then she witnesses everything that happened at the ruins. Arle threatening to kill people just for wanting to leave a place they never chose to be a part of, the people begging and crying for their lives, Arle demanding that rules must be upheld above people’s lives, the blatant way Arle was using “loyalty” to manipulate the people in the house, her making the siblings fight her with the lives of the other members on the line, her painfully removing people’s memories and personality and kicking them out. Clervie saw all that and still told Arle that she was a good Knave and Clervie approved of what she did. At this point the game might as well just come out and say “See! Everyone loves Arle and thinks she’s the greatest. Even her friend who opposed the old Knave for being cruel thinks she’s doing a great job. That means you have to like her too. Pay no attention to what an actual piece of human shit she is and just admit that she’s the specialist and the bestest character :)” because honestly that would have been more subtle than all this bullshit.

And what really gets me is that in the quest they explicitly made a point about how sad it was that the children except for Arle and Clervie were too brainwashed to realize how cruel the old Knave was, and then they went and pulled that ending. This goes beyond irony.

Only good part of the quest was that conversation between Lyney and Freminet at the beginning and Lynette calling everyone a dumbass. This whole quest should’ve just been them.

I had such high expectations because all of Fontaine so far, from the archon quest, to the world quests, to events, to story quests have been almost perfect. I’m so pissed that we’re leaving this incredible nation on such a sour note.

[julianalvarez9]

saw her first / mason mount & christian pulisic

request: hi! since your request is open can i request for a christian pulisic fic where reader is dating christian and she’s mason’s bestfriend. 3 of them are hanging out together in mason’s house and mason was complaining about his day to christian & reader but she is distracted by christian’s arm tattoos, she keep tracing it and inspecting it like she has never seen it before and mason is sooo done with reader’s behaviour and he called her out. make it fluffy, funny and sweet please!! thank you ❤️

pairing: bff!reader x bff!mason x bf!christian

word count: 0.9k

author's note: took me a bit but here it is! hope you like it 🤍

nothing had been going like mason wanted today.

he was rambling about it ever since he got through the door with your boyfriend, christian, just after practice. his effusive hands and his pacing throughout your flat reflected how conflicted he was about whatever it was that he was talking about, but running on almost no sleep it was almost impossible to catch what he was saying. mason stopped, dead in his tracks, and looked straight at you, once he realized you weren't replying to anything he was saying. he saw that you were too caught up in your boyfriend's tattoos in his left arm, tracing with your finger every line that adorned his skin.

you knew his arm like it was your own, having your finger traveling throughout the lines that dressed his skin with all sorts of drawings even before you two became a couple. mason obviously noticed your lack of attention to his complaints, and fuelled the anger that was already brewing in his bones.

“y/n, are you even listening to me?” he exclaimed, stopping on his tracks and getting his hands on his hips, eyes glaring at you when you dared to lift up your own, paying attention again once you heard your name.

you replied, maybe too quick to sound convincing. “of course i am!”.

mason lifted his eyebrows in an interrogative way, while christian stood up to find a glass of water in the kitchen, wanting to avoid his friend's wrath once he caught onto your lie.

“then what did i say?” he questioned, and his wicked smile grew the longer you took to answer him. “something about tuchel…?” you said, in a doubtful tone, clearly unsure about your answer. he opened his eyes wide at your mention of the german man who used to be chelsea's manager -key word, used. not anymore.

he raised his hands towards the sky, and then down onto his hair, looking like he might rip his head off. christian could only cough, trying to avoid getting drowned with the liquid he had been drinking before hearing your answer. “he hasn’t been with us since september!” mason said, high pitch in his voice noting how frustrated he was. you noticed he had tears in his eyes when he seated across from you, head in his hands that were supported in his legs. preoccupied by his reaction, you almost jumped to your feet, crouching by his side to hug him tightly.

“right, i’m sorry. i didn’t get to meet the new manager yet. i'm sorry, mase” you tried to explain, thinking that he was so mad at you that his anger spilled in tears. he lifted his gaze from his hands, to look at you through his glazed eyes. “you haven’t been coming to the matches?” mason said, voice broken in disbelief. you heard christian moving back into the living room, standing behind his friend to gently caress his head in a comforting way.

you explained, voice soft while looking back and forth between your best friend and your boyfriend behind him. “work has been insane these past few weeks. i promise i’ll be at the bridge for the next one, okay?”. you received a sympathetic smile in return, eyes now full of gentleness as they always were with mason. christian muttered, trying not to sound too judging but stating the truth nonetheless. he would never say something negative about your job, but he did miss seeing your face in the stands, cheering for him on the bridge or anywhere he played at. “you’ve been promising that to me since october…”, he noted.

“yeah, but i’m promising it to masey boy here” you said, jokingly, wanting to tease your boyfriend a bit. they always bickered about who’s your favorite, and even now, when you've been dating christian for almost two whole years, and he clearly knowing that he's got your heart completely, annoying him with mason never got old.

“you’re my girlfriend!” the american player said, big pout in his fully plump lips. you raised to your feet again, and gave him a quick peck on the lips, at which he grinned in return. mason, still in the couch and now under both of you, tried to separate you, like a little kid getting jealous about his mum and dad showing displays of affection in front of him. he got up, and turned to face christian now, pointing his finger accusingly at him. “she was my childhood neighbor before being your girlfriend, mate, i saw her first” he noted, smile that split his face in half at thinking he had won the argument. he always used that card against christian, even though you two hadn't really met there, only being aware of that fact due to your mom finding a pic of you and mason at one of your brother's birthday.

“yeah but-” your boyfriend tried to replicate, but you had grown tired of the argument replaying again and again, time after time, always with the same ending -no one winning, as you loved both boys to death. “enough of that!," you glared at both of them, two sets of wide eyes in return at your sudden raise in tone. an idea came to mind, and you, not being one to pass onto the fun, decide to joke a bit with the two best friends. "i’ll call tuchel to suspend both of you if you continue this nonsense” you quipped.

“for the last time, it’s potter now, y/n!" they both yelled at you, at which you could only laugh, clearly pleased with the annoyed look in both their faces.

[hertzwritings]

When tomorrow appears

A/N: liiiiisten, I have found a horrible lack of smut – and general stories – with this character and I literally cannot stand it. We need some more love for him. Anyway, I am a whore for anything Henry Cavill, so I’m writing all of it. If I singlehandedly need to full this godforsaken website with copious amounts of copulation, I WILL. Anyhow, enjoy some good ole smut, straight from my brain to yours! I’m going for the big, burly bear-man-Clark – just so you can prepare your loins. I’m kind of changing the story up a little from where he appears out of the water, looking like an absolute SNACK because I can.

Feedback feeds the soul, my loves, and requests are always open – there are no limits, because I have none, because I am me.

Love y’all!

MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Clark Kent/Superman x female reader

Warnings: language, mentions of wounds, mentions of blood, smut (18+ MINORS DNI), p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, sexual tension as fuck

Wordcount: 3.844

  When tomorrow appears

See, it wasn’t all that often that anything special or fun happened around your small town. Point blank period.

It was a small fishing town, barely hanging on by broken fingernails and fishing rods, a little on the outs of Oak Harbor – nobody really knew the place existed.

It was here, during a heavy rainfall, you saw a very big man emerge from the ice-cold waters, grab clothes from an open truck and moving on. His clothes were tattered, like he had been through hell and back, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

You had followed him with your eyes, hands on a large bucket of bait, and watched him disappear behind a small shack. You hadn’t seen him before, and he looked like he wasn’t from here.

“Pa! I’m going into town, need anything?” You yelled to your father, who was somewhere behind the car. “Nah, you go on ahead.” You set down the bucket of bait and half-jogged after the burly man; he was intriguing. You saw him pull the stolen clothes on, the shirt tight over his chest, and pull the thick jacket closer around his body. He looked sort of shell-shocked. “Hey.” You whisper-yelled at him before he got too far into the town, and he whipped around with wild eyes. You held your hands up in a gesture of goodwill. “Are you okay?” You asked softly. He narrowed his eyes. He was handsome as hell, blue eyes and dark hair, a wild beard covering the lower part of his face; you had already seen the level of muscle under the clothes, and the layer of dark hair that covered his chest. He was surveying you. “I’m… Fine.” He said hesitantly. “Where am I?” You doubted he was fine. “Small fishing town outside of Oak Harbor. Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked again and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “How do I get away from here?” You stepped closer to him and nodded towards a small shack to your left, where he, although hesitantly, followed you inside. “Buddy, I’m gonna be honest here. I just saw you step out of icy waters without a shiver, steal clothes and discard whatever strings of fabric you had left on your own body, you have no idea where you are… I don’t think you have money on you, nor the wherewithal to travel right now.” He looked at you. “I can’t stay.” He didn’t offer any explanations to the things, you’d mentioned, but you hadn’t expected him to. “Listen… Uh…?” “Clark.” “Clark. I get that you might not want to tell a complete stranger what the hell’s going on, but I can tell you right now, you are not in a state to travel anywhere.” He sighed. “I’m not saying stay forever, I’m saying…” You sucked in a sharp breath as his blue eyes pierced you. It was like he could see right through you.

“I am saying that I have a small cabin a little up the mountains, where you can stay for a while to get yourself together. I’ll pay you if you can chop wood for me. Then you can get out.” He thought it over, hands shaking a little, as he searched your face for any malice. “I, uh… Yeah, I can chop wood.” You nodded. “Good. Wait here, please. You’re going to have a hell of a time if you go into town, it’s trout-season and the seasoned fishermen are insane today.” You said carefully. “I’ll grab my car and we can go, okay?” He nodded once and sat down on a small barrel. “I’ll wait.”

You ran to your dad’s house and grabbed the keys, shouting a goodbye to him as you got inside of the car and started it, the roar of the engine louder than you had expected. You drove as quickly as you could to the shack and to your surprise, he was still there when you came. You had halfway expected him to leave the moment you had. He got in the car in silence, and you drove to your cabin. He was quiet, barely blinking as you came to the small, log-cabin, you called home.

“Come on in.” You opened the door and toed your boots off, throwing your thick jacket over a chair in the kitchen, before you went to the fireplace and started a fire, slowly heating your hands back up. The cold had been penetrating the last two days, and it was hard to get yourself heated back up. Clark stood in in the doorway, clearly hesitant about stepping inside. “Seriously, come on in. You’re letting the cold in.” he smiled ruefully and closed the door behind him, took his shoes off and hung up the stolen jacket – you didn’t want to question him about it.

“Cozy.” You heard him mutter as he looked around. You smiled. “I built it myself.” He hummed at that. It was a cozy place – one big room, where kitchen, bedroom and living room was in one, the fireplace the centerpiece of the room. The bathroom was hidden next to the kitchen, and the kitchen was built from old cabinets from abandoned houses. You loved it. It was so you. Especially after your large collection of books had found a home in the floor to ceiling bookshelf, you built from discarded oak-tree.

“Come on, sit by the fire and get some warmth back into those muscles.” You said, gesturing for him to sit on the couch as you went to the kitchen and started boiling water for a hot toddy. If there was something to get your nerves calmed and body relaxed, it was that; so why wouldn’t it work for the big man in your living room?

“Here.” You said, handing him a cup and sitting down next to him. “I know this sin’t much, but…” You smiled a little and he returned the smile, his hands dwarfing your cup completely. “It’s great. Pretty neat that you built it yourself.” He said. It was probably the closest to a compliment you’d get, so you nodded thankfully. “Uhm, I have a question.” He said, placing the cup on the small table in front of the couch. “Yeah?” You turned slightly to him, his blue eyes swallowing you whole. “Why would you help me? I stole. You should’ve turned me in.” You shrugged. “I don’t know. You seemed like you needed it more than a stint in the local lockup.” You said with a grin. “And I needed strong arms for my firewood.” “I think you’ve been doing fine without it.” He said with half a smile ghosting over his features. “Well, I’m pretty strong myself, but I recently hurt my wrist and can’t hold on to the axe tightly enough.” You hadn’t. You were more than capable of splitting wood. He nodded. “Another question.” “Sure.” You said, sipping the toddy. “Well, this isn’t exactly built for a roommate.” He challenged. “Oh, no issue. I’ll sleep on the couch. You’re bigger and with how you looked as you came out of the water… I think you need it more than I do.” “No, I can’t…” “It’s not really a question, Clark.”   “We’ll switch. I can’t take the bed from you.” He finally said and you didn’t argue.

--------------

A week later, a somewhat strange, but normal rhythm had settled between the two of you. You got up before him and made coffee. He woke at the smell of it, and you sat quietly at the small table, drinking your coffee before he made breakfast and you started a new fire. Then, as the morning fog had lifted, he went to chop wood, the slow and steady thunk filling your ears as you began your routine – make bread, read a book and get snares ready along with fixing lines on rods. It was your work, and it was amazing how much you could decide your own days.

You had also started to watch Clark a little more intently. He was – objectively – a handsome man, but after his walls came down a little, you found out he was kind, funny and soft, much different from what he looked like. A slow, dull ache had settled somewhere between your legs, and it made you feel flushed, every time he looked at you; you had been tossing and turning each night, your thoughts on the man in the bed (or couch, depending on the day) who had taken up sleeping shirtless, the bastard. A part of you couldn’t help but think that he knew how you felt. You weren’t the best actor and you had always had a hard time hiding feelings away.

The steady sound of the axe hitting wood had stopped as you were tying ends together of a fishing net, your fingers dancing over the thin strings. He walked in, sweat dropping from his brow and arms full of logs. He winked at you as he set them down and you felt your cheeks flush. It was strange how quickly he worked the logs – he could empty the waiting pile within an hour, perfectly cleaved and you had sometimes wondered if he had superhuman powers just by the sheer force and volume of the wood, he got through. “I’m taking a shower.” He said in a husky voice, still panting a little. You nodded and squeaked out a small okay as he closed the door to the bathroom – a few seconds later, you heard the water run.

You slumped back in your chair and ran a hand over your face. You needed to get it together. At any rate, he probably was going to leave sooner rather than later, so it would be to literally no one’s favor if you fell for him now.

“Hey, Y/N?” You heard his voice mingle with the cascading of water. “Yeah?” You yelled back. “I forgot a towel, can you…?” “Sure thing, hang on.” You walked to the small dresser next to the front door and grabbed a towel from it. You hadn’t really considered what you’d be met with when you opened the door, but the sight of his bare ass and muscular back was not it; you sucked in a sharp breath, saliva pooling in your mouth at the sight. “Ah, thanks.” He said, turning his torso towards you. You could almost see the outline of his cock, and you had to physically hold on to the sink to steady yourself. “Yep. Good. Cool. Imma…” You pointed to the door and quickly left, screwing your eyes shut – the mental image of his very sculpted body made your knees buckle.

God-fucking-damnit.

He stepped out, a barely concealed grin on his face, and starting helping you with dinner – there was a tense atmosphere between you, loaded with something as he chopped tomatoes and you stirred in various pots. It wasn’t uncomfortable, per se, but it was something new. “You okay?” He asked huskily after a while. “Hm?” You stopped stirring the pot and found his eyes. “Oh, yeah, just fine. Splendid.” “Splendid, huh?” he grinned at you. You nodded. “Great, really. Let’s eat.”

The evening dragged on for far too long for your liking, a few glances from his piercing eyes, that made you feel weak and a little woozy, also made the slow setting of the sun seem like it took forever. You groaned as the embers of the fireplace glowed and stretched a little. He looked up from the book, he was occupying himself with. “Tired?” You nodded and rubbed your eyes. “I’ll leave you to it. You’re on couch-duty tonight?” He asked softly. You nodded again. He smiled at you and closed the book, leaving it on the table, before he got up and pulled his shirt off. You had to look away from the way his muscles rolled under his skin and you swore, you could hear him chuckle as he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. You exhaled slowly, trying to steady your heartbeat a little, so you had a chance to get some sleep. The man was going to be the death of you.

“Bathroom’s free.” You nodded at him as he scooted into bed, and you quickly finished your night-routine before turning off the lights and adding a thick log to the fireplace and laying down. Hours ticked by, and you couldn’t sleep. The darkness was only interrupted by the glowing, orange flames of the fireplace, and you realized that Clark’s breathing was a little bit too steady and even for him to be sleeping as well. You sighed.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice was deep with sleepiness. “Not at all.” You whispered back. “I can’t get comfortable, I think.” You heard the rustling of the duvet. “Come on.” You looked up and saw him in the soft dimness of the orange flames – he had scooted to the side, holding the duvet up for you. “Uh…” “It’s your bed.” He simply said as an explanation. You didn’t think further of it, simply standing and trotting to the bed, settling in on the small mattress next to him. Heat radiated from him as he laid down next to you, and a moment too late, you realized how small your bed was, when he was in it. He wrapped his arm around you – the only place it could be – and you held your breath as he spooned you, holding you tightly.

You couldn’t control your body at all. Your heart was pumping wildly in your chest, heat and wetness was pooling in you and you had to restrain yourself form rolling your hips just a little against him. He cleared his throat as you accidentally moved a little, your ass gliding against his lower half, and you felt his hand tense a little over you. “Y/N…” he whispered your name. “Sorry.” A shuddering breath came from behind you and you felt his hand move a little closer to your chest. “Clark…” You exhaled his name as his hand came to rest just under your breast. “Sorry.” He didn’t sound like he meant it at all.

You had an even harder time falling asleep now with his chest warm against your back. He didn’t seem like he was closer to sleep either, his fingers twitching a little against you. You threw cation to the wind – you were burning under his hand and if you didn’t get some type of release, you’d explode, so you rolled your hips, gently moving your ass closer against him – he hissed as you made contact and you bit back a moan, when you felt how fucking long and thick he was.

“Y/N…” He tried again. You smiled. “Sorry.” It felt like a repeat of before. “No, you’re not.” He whispered against your neck. His fingers slowly moved up your chest, and you sucked in a sharp breath as his thick fingers came to rest, cupping your breast and kneading it slightly. “Do you mind?” He asked, his lips touching the back of your neck. You exhaled a shaky breath as you rolled your hips again, snaking your hand behind you and grabbed his waist, pulling him closer.

He moaned against your neck, finally turning you around as you rolled against him, and you were face to face, his nose touching yours. “I’m leaving soon.” He whispered, a touch of anguish in his voice.   “I know.” There it was, as simply put as one could; you knew, and he knew. His arm circled you, hand under your shirt on your back. Your hand snaked down between your bodies, gently running your hand over his hard, clothed length. He sighed against your touch, his hand running from your back to your breasts, under your shirt, and rolled your nipple between his fingers. Your noses were still touching as you moaned at his touch and you found your way down his pants, grabbing your hard, thick and warm length in your hand, slowly moving it up and down as he moved his body closer to yours.

It was wildly intimate. You hadn’t kissed, but you were breathing each other, his hand slowly inching down from your chest to your pants. He hovered there for a moment, as if he was doubting if you wanted it. You found his eyes and removed your hand from him, covering his hand with yours and slowly led him down. He closed his eyes as he felt your wetness and you mewled as he dipped a finger in you, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on your clit. You couldn’t look away from him as you found his length again and dragged your hand against him. He moaned, his breath fanning over you; it was a mix of peppermint and his particular scent, that reminded you of wet moss. He added another finger and you moaned as he filled you and began pumping, this time a little faster.

It was so intimate and close, you barely noticed that you were hurling towards the edge before you tipped over it. A strangled cry erupted from your throat as his fingers fucked you through on of the most intense orgasms you had ever had – your eyes never left his as you rode through the wave of pleasure. You felt him twitch in your grip, and you slowly, but surely, removed your hand from him to pull his pants down.

No words were exchanged as you helped each other remove the bottom half of your clothes, and he slowly got on top of you, his hand guiding himself to your wet, throbbing hole. “Fuck, you want this?” He asked, his voice strained and husky with self-control. “Yes, please… I just need you, please…” He hummed and shot you a confident smile before he slowly sunk into you. You mewled at the stretch. He was enormous in length and girth, and he stretched you to a point where it almost hurt. He bottomed out with a deep growl and buried his face in the crook of your neck as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. You were panting at him just being in you and you wanted him to fucking move. “Move, for the love of…” you let out a strangled moan as his cock dragged against your walls as he began to fuck you, his wide cock moving perfectly against you. His breathing was hard and hot on your neck, and your hands found purpose on his back, dragging lines down his skin with your nails. He groaned and snapped his hips, moving fast and faster as you both surrendered completely to the feeling of him in you.

You were both sweating and clinging to each other as he fucked you deeply, the head of him moving against your cervix every time he bottomed out, and you wanted to stay right here forever. You rolled your hips under him and angled up, the new position making both of you moan in synchronicity, and he sped up as a familiar warmth bloomed in your lower abdomen. You felt your walls tighten around him and he moaned. “Fuck, Y/N… You feel fucking amazing.” He kissed your shoulder, his teeth dragging against your collarbone as he fucked you hard, his hips snapping and the sound of your wet heat and your skin colliding against each other filled the room. “Y/N, you’re so fucking wet for me…” He moaned against and followed his words with another bite to your neck. “You want to come, don’t you?” he asked you in a husky voice. It was the hottest thing you had ever heard, and you moaned his name as a prayer. “Fuck, yes, please, I want to come…” he chuckled against your heated skin and sped up, the speed nearing humanly impossible. It was humanly impossible for him to be moving this fast, but you didn’t care. Not right now.

His hand snaked under you and grabbed your ass harshly, kneading the soft skin under his calloused fingers. You were moaning and sweating, your peak rapidly approaching. “Come for me, baby…” His words sent flames through your body, and you couldn’t hold back, even if you wanted. It was as if your body obeyed his voice, and you came in an explosion of pleasure, your body tight and legs shaking, as you came undone over him. Your walls tightened and throbbed around him, and you could feel the swell of him as he neared his own high as well. You were screaming his name as he fucked you relentlessly through your orgasm, barely letting you come down from that before another followed; he roared as he felt your pussy tighten around him and dragging him in, trying desperately to milk him for all he had. “Can I…” He didn’t need to finish his sentence. “Fill me, Clark.” You whispered your wish to him, hanging on to him for dear life as he pistoned in and out of you, pounding your pussy hard as he chased his release.

He roared as you came around him and he released himself, his spend painting your walls white as thick ropes of cum filled you completely. You moaned at the warmth of it, and your arms fell limply to your side.

He pulled out of you slowly, both of you hissing at the sensation, and neither of you wanted to leave the bed – he pulled you to him, letting your head rest on his broad chest and your arm around his waist. You felt how sticky and wet you were, and it sent another round of pleasure through your body as you fell asleep next to him, his soft breathing lulling you to sleep.

When you woke up, he was putting on his shoes and jacket. You rubbed sleep from your eyes and sat up, still a little sore.

“Leaving?” You asked with a tinge of sadness. He smiled sadly at you. “Yeah.” He walked to your side, kneeling next to the bed and held your face in his giant hands. “I’ll come back. I promise. I’m coming back for you.” He said softly. “I know.” You ran a hand through his hair, trying to memorize the feeling of it under your hand. “I’m coming back, Y/N.” he said again before leaning in and capturing your lips with his. It was the first time you had kissed, and it felt like you had come home; his lips were perfect against yours, and you sighed against him before he pulled away slowly and walked out of the door.

-------------

Three weeks later, a random day at the local bar, you had glanced up at the TV and saw a flying man with a cape whizzing through the air. You had instantly recognized the face, even though he was shaved, and his hair was slicked back. You grinned at the image on screen, seeing a familiar smile cross the screen and the blue eyes, you’d come to know so well, pierce yours.

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[jiracheer]

Hello can I request a Zagreus x reader fic with prompt #70: “I missed you.”, please? Thanks!

authors note: YES OFC!! I've been DYING to write for Zag and the Hades fandom, so i’m so happy to see a request for our fav Prince of the Night <3

prompt: “I missed you.”

tags: pg-13, fluff with some angst sprinkled in there

Tending to Persephone’s garden was tedious at times. You wanted nothing more than to laze among the tall grass with the wild flowers tickling whatever skin was exposed and burnt slightly due to the sun. But much was to be done if you were to travel with her to the Underworld for Winter. Your gaze lifted over to the hardworking queen of the Underworld, admiring the way the sun bounced off of her. She was truly and sincerely the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen, and you felt if you vocalized that out loud Aphrodite would surely turn you into a frog. 

However, she reminded you greatly of one you loved with all your heart. A pang resonated within your chest and you turned your gaze away, blinking any pollen caught between your lashes away before sighing. You haven’t seen Zagreus in so long… Perhaps he was busy with his new role down below, but. If he hasn’t emerged all Spring, does that mean things have gotten tougher underground? The thought made you feel queasy.

“My lady,” Your voice disturbed the peaceful silence. You fixed your posture as you stood up straight, a hand coming to rub at your waist to soothe the overworked muscles there. “I’ll be heading towards the river now to collect water. I will return shortly.” To prove you were going, you grabbed the nearest jug and held it up.

Persephone looked your way with ease, bright green eyes meeting your own and making you hitch your breath. She looked so much like him it was almost scary. 

A hum could be heard from the Goddess, before a warm smile. “Of course, my rose. Go now. When you return I will be inside making supper, but do water the crops before you come inside to wash up.” You watched as she wiped her hands on her tunic before turning to head inside her cottage. You spoke out your agreement before shuffling away towards the river. 

You could feel Winter’s fast approach in the way the wind was slightly bitter, nipping at your skin that made you shudder. But it was a welcomed bite. You were so hot you honestly felt like you would melt. Perhaps dipping your feet in the river would help you cool down a bit more, and as you approached the pebbled shore of the river you quietly took off your sandals and rolled up your tunic. Your toes entered the chill water first, another shudder coursed through you, before you’d allow it to lick at your ankles. Satisfied, you sighed softly. You filled the jug as much as it could, as with the amount you could realistically carry back, and set it behind you so you could squat down and enjoy the view.

You were nowhere near River Styx. Persephone warned you to never go near it. She wasn’t sure how you, a Shade, would react to the direct contact of it all and you didn’t want to try your luck. So you settled with the river that stretched as far as the eye can see. You had found it with Persephone two springs ago, finding the view of it to be beautiful with the broken pillars jutting out of the crystal clear water enchanting 

Well, it would be enchanting if that log right in the middle wasn’t floating down-

Wait. Log?

You blinked your eyes once, twice, before rubbing them. Surely you were seeing things, right? What is a log of all things doing out here? It wasn’t until you heard shouting that soon turned into the clear call of your name did you gasp, rising to your feet to take a few steps forward before dashing towards what you assumed initially to be a log.

“Y/N!”

You knew that voice anywhere, finally recalling it. Your heartstrings pulled and your robe weighed heavily on you, making you struggle to get anywhere, so you pulled at the clasp nestled comfortably at your chest to let it fly off of you. Paying no mind to the slap it sounded when it made contact with the river.

“Zagreus!” Your voice carried out to the man that was slowly forming before you, tears built in your eyes. He was here… He was really here. Had you manifested him? Or did he happen to know you were thinking of him? Whatever it was, you didn’t care. He was here now. You wouldn’t have to wait another day or two to see him. 

The Chthonic God readied his arms for you, catching you in them and spinning you around with ease in his embrace. A fond laugh brushed your ear and you leaned back to stare at him. His sculpted face and long nose, accompanied by his red and green eyes. Your heart was practically beating against your chest in pure euphoria. He smiled down at you with so much adoration, you could’ve exploded.

“Y/N… I missed you, so much… I couldn’t wait to see you, I-I just. I had to come.” Zagreus’ hand came to cup your cheek, brushing his thumb under your eye before kissing you. The hand that rested on your cheek came to nestle itself behind your head, gently holding you against him like you were made of the finest china. When he separated the two of you exchanged a loving stare before he’d throw you up, a scream before a laugh sounding from you when he caught you again in his arms. His left arm was settled beneath your bum, his right supporting your back with your hands holding onto his shoulders. “I see you’re faring well in mother’s garden. You look as if Apollo has graced you with the finest weather.”

You bit your lip as you admired him, nodding along to his words. “I… It’s such a surprise to see you here, Zagreus. I was thinking about you earlier. It almost makes me feel like you heard me and decided to pay a visit!” You laughed, leaning down to embrace him against your chest.

The action caused him to sway at the sudden movement, making him lose his footing and causing the both of you to shout before landing onto the rocky river. A hiss sound from Zagreus and a worried whine from you. You made sure he was fine before the two of you would laugh again from the incident, with you leaning against his chest and the Prince holding you fondly against his chest. 

“Hm… I can already feel the river calling for me, Y/N.” Zagreus grunted out as he rubbed your back, “I’m noticing now that the more time I spend up here. The weaker I am to River Styx.” His eyes closed when he hung his head back, exposing his neck and adam's apple that bobbed. You sat up in his arms and crawled closer to him, kissing his neck before jaw. 

“Or perhaps you’ve angered Charon… Again, somehow. And this is your punishment.” Your lips whispered against his cold skin before meeting his warm lips. “It wouldn’t surprise me if that is the case, my Prince.” Another kiss before a giggle against his lips. “But if you must go… Go. I will see you soon, and we’ll have a whole season to be with one another.” 

“But what if I don’t want that?” 

His answer startled you and you felt as if you’d been burnt, leaning back- but he grabbed you before you could walk away. 

“What I mean to say is… What if I don’t want to just spend one season with you? Y/N. I want to spend every season with you, to rise to see your face when Spring comes. To rest by your side on the warmest nights to keep you company, to return to your loving embrace when the leaves begin to fall if. That is still a thing up here.” He glanced around, almost trying to make sure he was correct, which left you giggling to yourself. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I want this; us. To be a thing forever, or well, for as long as you’d like me.”

He had the sweetest boyish smile on his face, you couldn’t help but feel this surge of love and adoration for him. You gently shook your head with a smile, which startled him and made him slowly wither, but you grabbed his face.

“Zagreus. I would love nothing more than that with you, my love. You mean so much to me… You coming to visit, to love me for who I am despite me not being a Goddess. It makes me feel incredibly special. And I too want to wake every day, beyond Winter time, to see you. I want to experience every part of the Underworld with you.” You breathed out to him, gently tracing the bump on his nose. Did he break it recently? That seemed new. 

With a sigh, you could already feel him slipping away. His eyes were gaining a hood and he could barely keep himself up. “Rest now, Zagreus.” You moved so that you could keep his head afloat in the water. “I will see you when you rise, my love. And when I do, we will discuss our arrangements furthermore. Yes?” With one final kiss, you sent your beloved his way home. 

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Misfit

Pairing(s): Daenerys Targaryen x Greyjoy!Reader

Warnings: minors dni, mentions of rape, dubcon, mentions of inc3st, trauma, healing, please do not read if you think you’ll be triggered by any of these warnings.

Words: 2439

Summary: Nightmares, your nightmares were filled with the blazing symbol of a kraken. As you travel with your siblings to Meereen you hope Queen Daenerys would be willing to help you in defeating Euron.

You lunge in your bed as the waves outside crashes against your sister’s massive ship; fingers twisting in your sheets while you draw in ragged breaths. Eyes darting about your cabin wildly for any sign of your terrible uncle. You knew though that he wouldn’t be there. You were far away from his grasp. The fact gave you little relief though, your heart still in a panic. A heavy film of sweat madde your hair stick limply to your face as you got up on unsteady feet. Legs wobbled uncontrollably and not because of the ship. A nightmare like that always rendered you of your mobility.

Dawn was barely emerging from the blanket of night when you managed to make it up on the deck. Even with the cold night air smattering against your soaked skin you still felt unbearably hot. A feverish kind of warmth that made you feel ill.

You padded off to one side of the ship and grasped tightly at the edge while leaning your face overboard.

Just the thought of him made you sick.

“They’ll start saying you’re sea sick if you keep it up.” Asha’s voice breaks over the sea. “What kind of Ironborn would you be if you were prone to seasickness.”

Body quivering as you wretch overboard, Asha’s hand rubs your back.

“I’m sorry (y/n). You’re away from him now.” She whispers to you. “Once we have Daenerys on our side, Euron will pay. “We’ll hang him by the neck. Not even the Drowned God will take him.”

With the back of your hand you wipe your mouth. ��A nice sentiment Asha. That is if we can even talk to the Mother of Dragons before she feeds us to her children.” Asha laughs loudly. “Don’t worry about that. She’ll talk to us. I’ve heard she’s been trying to get to Westeros for years. This is her chance. She’d be a fool not to talk to us.” You always admired your older sister. Ever since childhood, Asha had consistently been so confident with herself. Undoubtedly she would’ve made a great queen. Her shipmates admired her as a captain and would go anywhere with and for her. Although they respected you too you lacked the authority that Asha had. You never had a ship of your own. Unlike everyone else on the Iron Isles you preferred to stay on land. Considered a disgrace by many it made you a sort of misfit. Even your father had been disappointed in you. You didn’t really care. You brushed him off and dreamed of a place filled with grass and trees. You partially envied Theon for being taken to Winterfell after the failure of the Greyjoy Rebellion. You wished it had been you. The Iron Isles were a cold place that possessed no love or affection. Asha had always been the one to give you any kind of warmth. She was always there to support you as an older sibling should. Your sister taught you how to wield a sword with a patience she showed no one else. When your father had given up on hopes of you having and fulling utilizing your own ship it was Asha who enticed you on board with stories of Westeros and other far off places. It was the only reason why you even learned how to conduct a ship; with hopes of sailing away from your dreary home. Asha never really did understand why you hated Pyke, but she always supported you and whatever made you happy.

“He’s never going to hurt you again (y/n). I’ll make sure of that. And you know I keep my promises.” She reminds you a little sternly.

You smile meekly and finally turn away from the side of the boat to face her. “I know. And I know you’ll talk Daenerys into joining us. You do have a way with convincing people to your view.”

Her grin is crooked. “C’mon. Lets get you back to bed. We should be reaching Meereen soon.”

Right, you had to try and get some rest. It had been so long though since you’d had a peaceful nights sleep. Even if you were so exhausted sleep never did come easy to you. It was like trying to grasp mist and keep it your captive in your hands.

When you closed your eyes that’s when you saw Euron the most…

Meereen was completely different from Pyke. Worlds apart from the salt air and fog filled island that you had grown up on. Sun hot on your sensitive skin making you perspire as you and your entourage set out from the docks and to the great, towering, pyramid where Daenerys Targaryen was. Many observed you with naked suspicion. Soldiers in odd looking helmets followed slowly off to the side, watching like hawks.

“Don’t let them intimidate you. I hear all of her soldiers have no dicks-” Asha pales slightly and quickly shoots wide eyes over to poor Theon. Hiss shoulders stiffen and his face turns down to the ground. “S-Sorry. . .”

He had been through so much under the tyranny of Ramsay Bolton. Even though you had been through your own horror you couldn’t possibly imagine all the things that Ramsay did to him. Theon had returned with less fingers as well as other body parts that left him timid and fearful. Not that you remembered much of him from before he left for Winterfell. You had been very young.

Word had already spread and gotten to the Queen of Meereen of the arrival of the Greyjoy fleet. The guards welcomed you with untrusting cordialness.

You were in awe of everything. You had only ever left Pyke with Asha years ago to go to the mainland for trading. You hadn’t had much time to look around before Asha ushered you back on the ship.

Statues of bare breasted women with wings instead of arms met you at every turn. Vicious and domineering as each one glared down at you and your siblings.

None of them compared to the Mother of Dragons herself. Even the dimness of the room where she accepted you couldn’t dampen her beauty. Of course you had heard that she was a great beauty, you thought all of the rumors had merely been hype. You were a fool to have assumed such things. You were never certain about your sexuality, but once you saw her you knew it was anything that involved Daenerys Targaryen.

What you weren’t expecting was the Lannister dwarf at her side. His focus was entirely on Theon. Such heat and furocity coming from someone so small. You wondered what had transpired between the two to make Tyrion Lannister glare at him with such animosity.

You stood on the other side of Asha, trying to perpetuate the strength and pride of House Greyjoy. Iron you tried to will your body to be. Iron like Asha. Resilient and strong against your enemies.

Against Daenerys? Well, you never had behaved much like a Greyjoy before. Why would now be any different.

Once Tyrion started berating your brother on how he acted last they saw one another you knew it would be a rocky conversation. Would the Half Man discourage Daenerys from such an alliance just because of the ass your brother was years ago? She seemed to trust his judgement since he was standing by her right side. Her right hand man. Somehow he had become her counselor. He could ruin everything. That would mean Euron. . .

You felt ill again.

If Daenerys wouldn’t help you defeat Euron. . .

Daenerys’ strong voice pipes in after Tyrion. “You’ve brought us a hundred ships from the Iron Fleet, with men to sail them. In return I suspect you want me to support you claim to the throne of the Iron Islands?” She was addressing Theon.

“Not my claim.” Theon corrects her. His head inclines toward Asha who stood between you and Theon. “Her’s.”

You had never seen someone with her color eyes. Such a rich, yet gentle, hue of lavender. They move from Theon then to Asha, quickly flicking toward you before going back to Theon. “What’s wrong with you?”

He hesitates and you inwardly cringe as he is once again reminded of what had been done to him at the hands of Ramsay. “I’m. . . I’m not fit to rule.”

“We can both agree on that at least.” Tyrion remarks.

There’s interest on Daenerys’ face. The thought of another queen. It could potentially put her own position at risk, you realize. Dread was clawing deep at your gut. You couldn’t help but feel the searing of your wrists; the remnants of the time spent under your uncle’s control. “Has the Iron Islands ever had a queen?”

Very briefly Asha glances at you. For anyone else it was nothing out of the ordinary. You and Asha knew though.

Asha purses her lips before answering smoothly “No more than Westeros.”

The Queen of Meereen smiles. That was a good sign, right? Theon thinks so as he continues calmly. “Our Uncle Euron returned after a long absence. He murdered our father. He took the Salt Throne from Asha. He took (y/n). . .” Theon pauses and uncertainly looks to you to see if it was okay. Shakingly you nod. It would come out eventually. You had to be brave like Asha. Be brave like Theon was trying to be. That was the very least you could do. “Took (y/n) as his bride. . . unwillingly. . . He would’ve murdered us all if we hadn’t left.”

You weren’t anticipating the immense amount of sympathy that the queen held for you. Her face softened and her true feelings bled through. “I’m sorry that happened to you. It must have been horrendous. . .”

For the first time you speak up. “I-It was. That is why we seek your help. I, seek your help. . .”

There’s a moment of silence, kept company by the furious beating of your heart that you hoped no one else could hear. Then Daenerys subtly turns to Tyrion. “Will their ships be enough?”

It would take a while for the queen to load everything onto your ships as well as the ones she had taken from the masters. Who the masters were, you didn’t entirely know and didn’t care. You were all too relieved when Daenerys accepted your alliance. So relieved that once you were alone you cried. For the first time in a long time you cried out of joy.

Daenerys had let you and your siblings stay in her great pyramid until they were done loading the things necessary to sail to Westeros.

You were grateful to actually take a bath. A large steaming pool at the base of the pyramid. Ancient figures and sculptures kept a look out for you as you lounged in the heated water. Never had you felt so at ease. Daenerys and her dragons would take down Euron in a heartbeat. You smile to yourself. He would pay for what he did to you.

(e/c) eyes shift to your naked body, the smile wilting. What he had done to you. . . His own niece. God knows you had tried to forget. How could someone forget such violent acts done to them though? Asha would’ve never let anything like that happen to her. She would’ve stuck a knife in his neck the moment he laid hands on her. You were gentle though. Always gentle. And that was your downfall. Your father had been right all along.

“For someone who has just succeeded in getting my help, you sure don’t look very happy.”

Jolting you quickly use your arm to cover your chest. “Your Gr-”

Oh boy. She was naked too. Gloriously naked. Her attendants helped her in and as they did she looked like some sort of mythical creature, much like her dragons. You tried not to stare. Tried to blame the steam and heat of the water for making you blush. You were still ever the gentle child that your father scolded you for being; even though you and Daenerys had to be around the same age.

Her smile is kind as her handmaids go about unbraiding her hair and letting it flow into the water. “Forgive me for startling you.”

“N-No forgiveness is needed, Your Grace. It is I who seeks it. I’ll leave.” You go to stand, aware that that would make you bare for her to see.

“No, please stay. I would like the company.” says Daenerys.

Still covering yourself with your arms you sit back down into the water. She had probably already seen the kraken shaped brand on your hip anyway. There was no hiding what Euron had done to you. It was different, her seeing it and Theon telling her what had happened.

“I truly am sorry for what your uncle has done to you. It’s despicable. He will pay for it, that I promise you.” She tells you earnestly. Her eyes are trained on the rippling of the water. You could tell she’s lost in thought. Perhaps a memory she was thinking back on. “No woman should have to go through that. I’ll make sure he never does it to anyone else again. I know giving your sister her Salt Throne won’t erase what has been done to you. Even killing Euron what take back what he did. But. . . I hope you can learn to move on from it. That you can let yourself live a happy life despite what has happened to you. You deserve that much and more.”

Your lost for words. All is caught in your throat.

The sound of water moving makes you look at Daenerys as she wades toward you. Once she’s in front of you she gently cups your cheek. Try as you may, your tears spill forward.

You would’ve flinched from such contact had it been anyone else. However your body melted into her touch.

*

Asha smiled gently at the scene and decided best to leave them alone. It had been quite a while since she had seen her sister so relaxed around another person. Euron had taken her sense of security. Even around Asha and Theon, (y/n) would still flinch if they accidentally touched her of if they moved in a way that looked like they were going to strike her.

Her fingers curl into her palm tightly at the thought of what Euron had done to (y/n). Violently shaking she stalks out of the pyramid of Meereen to get ready to sail back to Westeros.

[amjustagirl]

chapter 7: one step forward (a million steps back)

chapters: 7 / 15 pairing: miya osamu x f! reader genre: romance, angst, fluff, inarizaki shenanigans wc: 2.8k summary: miya osamu does not dare set fire to his heart. it burns anyway.

(prev / next)

Swapping the backdrop from the rural countryside to the bustling metropolis does not dampen your feelings for Miya Osamu in any way. 

You’d always thought he was attractive with his strong chin, the sturdy sweep of his shoulders but now your gaze lingers on him more and more, appreciating the openness of his smile, the warmth of his eyes. His heart is too big to cram into his chest, and you like him all the more for it - the consideration he pays to his staff (and you), the gruff love he shows his family, the genuine care he gives to his guests. It scares you, how much you love - like him, craving for his attention, his friendship suddenly insufficient when you want more. Your name sounds beautiful when he says it, even though you’ve always hated it (a relic of your past), and you stand a little taller, smile a little wider when he’s anywhere near you.

“So, the boss huh.” Suzuki states with a motherly pat to your shoulders. “Finally.”

The rest of the staff seem to share her sentiment, nudging you forward whenever they see the opportunity to leave you and Osamu alone, elbowing you with grins whenever Osamu smiles at you, nodding approvingly whenever he offers to walk you home (or to the night shift) after late nights at the restaurant. 

You’re a terrible liar so you just shrug helplessly, biting your bottom lip. “Not that I know what to do”, you admit. 

Which is true. You’ve had crushes before - handsome boys who accompany their parents to your father’s sushi restaurant, classmates who were unattainable, out of reach but you’d put them on a pedestal, imagining how you’d enjoy being one half of a couple, holding hands, sharing smiles. But this is different. You’ve never had anyone you actually, truly, really like for who they are, and there’s so so much to like about Miya Osamu. 

Suzuki’s expression turns sympathetic when you confess all of this to her, your voice small, unsure. “I’ll help you”, she promises. “The boss needs something more than just work in his life, and I bet he probably feels the same way about you. From the way he looks at you, at least.” 

“You think so?” you ask, but she doesn’t bother giving you a response, sending out texts on her phone at machine gun speed, and the next thing you know, she’s roped in Kaiyo and the entire staff (who’s itching to get involved anyway) to aid in the mission of capturing the elusive heart of one Miya Osamu. 

Step one - feed the chef. 

Suzuki-san and Kaiyo unanimously pronounce that the way to Miya Osamu’s heart is through his stomach. A tired saying, but one that rings true for the chef-owner of Onigiri Miya.  

“But what am I supposed to cook for him that he can’t already cook for himself?” you protest, though whatever you say falls on deaf ears. 

You consider baking something, but your parents’ old house lacks a working oven, understandable since your parents (and yourself, nowadays) would only retreat home for rest. You consider buying him some upscale delicacy, some sort of expensive cake or mochi or sweet treat of sorts, but it seems needlessly expensive and it’s not like Osamu’s a food snob to begin with. Then you overhear Osamu complaining that he can’t find the time to travel to the Kobe fishmarket to check out what’s on offer this winter deep sea fishing season, and an idea forms in your head. 

He doesn’t have the time, but you do.

So you call in favours from your father’s old business acquaintances, pop down into Kobe before dawn in long unworn wet market boots, returning back to Osaka with your bounty. You stare at the array of fresh seafood. Kani, a whole hairy crab, splayed old, pincers wriggling out at you in an indication it’s still alive. Pearly grey oysters, all unshucked. Yellowtail, the fish still gasping, Madai, the red seabream’s gills glistening in the light. A bagful of shrimp, each impossibly long, perfectly pink. 

You’re not quite sure what to do with them, so you present them all in their box, packed with ice. Like a floral arrangement, a bouquet of seafood to your intended conquest. 

He gapes silently, eyes wide as dinner plates, darting between the box and yourself. “Surprise”, you say needlessly, weakly. 

“It’s too much”, he says at first, but thanks you with boyish enthusiasm, when you explain he’ll only let the food go to waste if he doesn’t take it from you. He throws an impromptu party with staff and family that night with the spoils from your gift, unabashedly asking if you’d show him the best way to prepare the fish. It’s gratifying to watch everyone ooh and aah as the course after course of decadent seafood emerges from the kitchen, more so when he slumps beside you, head down on the countertop in an obvious food coma at the end of the night. 

“What’s the occasion for all of this?” he asks, almost lost to sleep. 

It’s just three simple words, but you chicken out. Courage has never been your strongest suit. “To thank you for being my friend”, you say instead, which is kinda, sorta true. 

“You never need to thank me for that”, he says, before laughing at himself, at the cheesiness of what he’s just said.  

You think otherwise, but you just echo the cadence of his laugh.

(one step forwards, two steps back) 

Step two - show him affection. 

You’re instructed by Kaiyo and Suzuki-san to express your affection for him. 

“Physically”, Kaiyo says, “since you seem incapable of doing so with words.” 

You feel like telling her that you’ve grown up without the blueprint to showing human affection, especially romantic affection.

“Okay look”, she adds after a few beats of you staring goggle eyed at her. “Just follow what ‘Tsumu and I do, k? You can try hugging him when he walks you home - don’t look at me like that, as if I don’t know that he does, honestly - the two of you act like you’re in high school, but act on your feelings and maybe hold his hand too - “

“You don’t hug Atsumu”, you point out. “You smack him and poke him and tickle him, and occasionally exchange kisses.” 

“That’s what passes for foreplay in his mind -” 

You wince. “I did not need to know that.” 

“But if you wanna kiss Osamu, hey, you do you, I’m a great believer in goin’ out there and taking life by its balls.”

“Baby, I’m sittin’ right here when you’re talkin’ about me and -  please don’t take me by the balls”, Atsumu pleads, covering Shoma’s ears with large hands. “Sounds painful.” 

Kaiyo’s grin is shark-like. Yet Atsumu just gazes at her like a lovelorn puppy. You…admire their marital bliss, but you probably should not take them as role models in lessons of physical affection. Perhaps you can try your best to channel the Kitas instead with their open affection and gentle care for each other. 

So you brush past him in the restaurant when you pass him dishes, greet him with a side hug which he returns with a chuckle when he comes to your place to bring Kombu-chan yet another treat, ruffling his hair when he does his best at baby-talking your haughty cat. You lean into him, chasing the heat his body emits when you leave his shop to fetch some item that’s run out, returning with your shirt translucent, clinging and wet with rain.

“Shoulda made sure you went out with an umbrella”, he mutters, frowning as you shiver. 

His frown deepens as you lose your balance and nearly topple backwards, mind fogging up as he rubs his hands together to generate even more heat before clasping yours between his, so careful and gentle almost as if he’s afraid you might shatter. “I’m okay”, you breathe, but that doesn’t seem to reassure him, because your goosebumps line your flesh, your teeth chattering. 

“Time for you to go home”, he says flatly. 

Suzuki-san gives you a conspiratorial grin when he takes your elbow to escort you home, his arm heavy on your shoulders. “Take care of her”, she calls after him. He doesn’t respond, but the determination in his stride indicates he fully intends to. 

His closeness grounds you and knocks you off your feet at the same time. You don’t even realise that you’re at your front door until he extracts your spare key from beneath your floor mat, Kombu-chan peeping between the gate to investigate. 

“Shower, now”, he orders and you obey without a fight. 

When you emerge, hair towelled dry, skin damp and warm from steam, there’s a warm cup of ginger and honey on the table. Your rice cooker hums, a glistening, perfectly fried egg waiting for you to plop it in your mouth. Ceramic clinks in the metal sink, a pair of wooden chopsticks line your bowl. “Eat, and then sleep”, he says again, mouth pinched. “Don’t want you t’come down with a cold or somethin’ worse.” 

Usually when he shows you any sort of kindness (which is almost too often, because Miya Osamu is the best man you know), you just thank him with varying degrees of politeness and awkwardness, unable to express how actually grateful you are that he’s found you worthy of being nice to, but today, after freezing in the winter’s first rainstorm and dragging yourself through puddles and mud, your reserve peels away. 

“Won’t come down with a cold”, you murmur before winding your arms around Osamu, the man frozen as you pull him into a semblance of a hug. 

You wonder a half-second too late if you’ve overstepped before he relaxes, shoulders carefully settling. You could too easily get used to this, learn to be addicted to this - the feeling of him in your arms, large and strong and sturdy, basking in the heat of his body like sitting cross legged before a fireplace. He smells a little like rain himself, earthy and damp and there’s a hint of sesame oil, fragrant and nutty.  

Then he disentangles himself from you, hands under your arms so he can hold you carefully away from him. You shudder from the sudden loss of warmth, whining under your breath. 

“You’re definitely gonna get sick tomorrow”, he says, brushing a large palm against your overheated forehead, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Bed, now.”

He keeps you at a polite distance, hovers by the threshold to your room as you settle into bed, only crossing it once to bring Kombu-chan in, dropping her onto your lap. “Goodnight”, he murmurs before leaving you behind in darkness, thunder rolling in the horizon. 

You crawl on your knees, tugging the curtains open, letting the tiniest sliver of light into your room as you lie face-up on your bed. Count the cracks in your ceilings, even though you already know the answer. Kombu-chan ends up deserting you and you stay awake for hours, only dropping off to sleep when the rain clears and the moon peeks out behind clouds. 

After that, you’re unable to find any reason to show Osamu any physical affection whatsoever. It’s as if he’s constructed a force field to keep you out, the hair on your arms rising, almost crackling when he skirts around you, as if - as if he’s wary of you. 

Oh, you conclude. You overstepped. 

You apologise the next opportunity you get, but Osamu scrunches his eyebrows together, as if he’s trying to decipher whether he should be confused or offended that you even brought it up. “Don’t be silly”, he waves you off. It’s not clear whether he means it’s truly fine, because he goes back to normal after a while, reaching out to ruffle your hair when you bump his elbow with yours, but you’re not sure what to believe so you just - you just respect the distance he’s put between you. 

(one step forward, three steps back) 

“You two are hopeless”, Kaiyo says crossly after zero progress is made on the chasing Miya Osamu front. “Maybe we should just lock you both in the store room until proximity and time makes you desperate enough to just spit out that you like him, it’s not rocket science, y’know -” 

Atsumu just shakes his head, balancing Shoma on his lap. 

“What!” she exclaims peevishly. “Maybe you could contribute some suggestions, since you and Osamu shared the same womb.” 

“Just grab him and kiss him”, he chortles, dodging a swat from his wife. “Worked like a charm for me.” 

You just look at him with distrust. “I think I’ll pass, thanks”, you demur politely. 

Step three - date night, just him and you. 

“Maybe you should just be direct and ask him out on a date”, Kaiyo suggests. Suzuki-san nods with approval, and you agree readily, because you’d been facing their ire for failing to tell Osamu your feelings which is far easier said than done, but neither are going to listen to you anyway. So you do, asking him out for dinner on Monday, the only day of the week he’s willing to take a break (enforced by me, Suzuki-san tells you smugly), and he accepts without question. 

It’s a last ditch attempt, a final shot before you’ll throw in the towel, give him up completely. 

“Did you specify it was a date?” Kaiyo asks, face-palming when you admit with a sheepish smile no. 

“It should be obvious!” you protest, because why else would you ask him specifically out for dinner at a fancy restaurant booked out weeks in advance by couples, serving fine French food and good Italian wines, but Osamu proves you wrong.

First, it’s bad enough that he turns up fifteen minutes late, but he sticks out like a sore thumb in jeans and a t-shirt. Second, he looks around and wonders aloud about the coincidence of everyone around you sitting in pairs. Third, and most egregiously, the sin that Kaiyo will slap the back of his head for as punishment, to which he’ll just frown at her, arguing his innocence - 

“D’you mind if a friend joins us tonight? He’s havin’ a tough time.” 

He doesn’t need to look at you with puppy dog eyes, doesn’t need to pout because you’re weak, unable to refuse anything he asks of you. 

“Sure”, you reply. 

That’s how Suna Rintaro, middle blocker of the EJP Raijin and soon-to-be divorcee and single father of one, ends up at your table, an awkward trio in a room full of cooing couples. He sulks through appetisers, pronounces that romance is overrated when the couple next to you shows off their engagement ring to their thoroughly unimpressed waiter, and eyes you with contempt when Osamu slips off to the washroom. 

“He’s not interested. You should take a hint, like the rest of the women clamouring to date him.” 

You splutter into your glass of water, choking out coughs. “I’m not - we’re just - I mean -” He levels a stare at you through feline eyes, decidedly unconvinced. 

“Yeah, right.” Sharp, concise. 

Shame burns through your veins, spreading like quickfire. You regret all of this immediately, whispering your excuses to Osamu when he returns to the table, confused by your sudden haste to leave. The nip of the early winter chill only serves to inflame your regret, making you want to drown yourself into a rain filled puddle.

Kombu-chan noses about your ankles when you stumble home, a bedraggled, sad creature wearing the tatters of her ego, the dregs of her dignity. “At least one of us is happy”, you tell her when you feed her a treat. 

She meows and steps all over you as you lie facedown on the floor. 

Osamu turns up at the end of your shift when you fail to turn up at his shop again, armed with his usual bribe of onigiris and mochi. “Was Suna rude to you, that lil’ shit?” he asks without preamble, face contorting into something ugly, harsh beneath artificial fluorescent lights. 

You lie through your teeth, murmuring a no as you stare at your feet. You don’t even dare to look up at him, not when you’re still smarting from being seen right through by a close friend of his. 

“He said somethin’, didn’t he?” Osamu persists, sighing when you match his stubbornness, shaking your head to pretend otherwise.

Osamu’s too busy, too distracted to spend much time trying to draw out exactly what’s wrong, what’s ailing you (the restaurant’s renovations are almost complete, he tells you, and he’s preparing a soft launch for family and friends, you have to be there of course), so he just walks you home, patting your back and saying “don’t mind Rin, he’s a piece of shit right now cos’ life is kinda rough for him”. 

“There’s nothing to mind, Osamu. Really, I’m fine”, you reply with a cheerfulness that’s decidedly forced.  

“Really?” 

Your stomach always burns when you lie. You pick up Kombu-chan, burying your face in her fur, willing your innards to stop tearing itself into shreds. “You don’t have to worry about me, ‘Samu.” 

You’re lying again, but he doesn’t need to know the truth. 

(one step forward, a million steps back)

 a/n: oh 'samu. oh suna. oh, poor, poor reader. i put her through the wringer ><

[theveryworstthing]

I Live.

Gonna give y’all a little life update copy-pasted from patreon since I’ve been gone for a thousand years. I don't really want to get deep into everything because sharing too many private details about my life/family on the internet feels a little icky even when people are nice but a quick rundown is:

1. My mom was helping my aunt through the legal proceedings of a messy divorce from her abusive ex husband and had to fly to her place like every 2 weeks. During her stays there she sensed something was wrong and after a few doctor's visits we found out that my aunt has early onset dementia. She's being taken care of by family and her shitty ex will never see her again if we have any say so but it's been Rough. She doesn't deserve this shit.

2. Surgery Bonanza! Mom has to get a giant mysterious fatty mass schlorped out of her back and my Grandma Lou' s thyroid gland went insaneo style and blew up into two huge masses that had to be cut out of her throat before they completely cut off her breathing. Then she had a bonus surgery to help with her failing eyesight. On the bright side, there was no cancer found in the weird lumps harvested from my kin.

3. My cat developed a weird lump full of cancer. I spotted a small lump on his right back leg over a month ago and after begging his former vet for an appointment sooner than 2 weeks away we finally got him in. Within seconds she said that it was probably cancer and that if it is he probably won't survive the treatment for it because he's 15 so do I really want to know? Because if I know then maybe I'll want to treat this expensive thing  but if I wanted to let it ride it might be easier I guess? Because letting my weird little son die without trying to save him or give him proper end of life care is cool as long as it's cheaper and I don't have to think about it as much???? This was before any sort of intensive check on him or the tumor was done btw. The little dude was pretty much either a dead man walking or he had some mysterious swelling that time would take care of as far as she was concerned. Either way there was the vibe that she kind of wrote him off.

I ordered tests for him anyway, waited 2 weeks to get inconclusive answers, ordered an x-ray (which should have been done with the other test but whatever), waited a week and a half to learn that yeah, he probably does have cancer maybe and thank god it's not spreading too fast because uh oh! It's been almost a month and that bad boy has been growing this whole time!!!! Also it took weeks for them to bother scheduling any kind of re-check. At this point they say that there's nothing they can do and offer to get me in contact with what seems to be the only animal cancer specialist around. Who's like 2 and a half hours away. And has a crazy wait list. Did I mention that Coup hates being stuck in his carrier and will stress out and cry constantly every time he's forced to travel anywhere? So after reaching out to friends and family I found another much closer vet who could give me a second opinion first and thank god I found that place because not only did they actually judge him by his actual level of health instead of just his age when it comes to treatment (besides the cancer Coup is healthy as an ox, stellar scores in bloodwork and overall cat-ness, vet said that judging from his behavior/usage of the leg that we're probably more concerned about the situation than he is) but they also had a treatment plan rolled out and ready by the end of the visit. The boy is almost done with his chemo injections now and even though the shrinking is slow he's still in great health so we're daring to dream.

Fuck The Haters.

Other things happened but I don't want to talk about those things. The bottom line is that I'm not juggling a hell schedule or crying every day now so I want to get back in the drawing saddle. Thanks again to everyone on patreon who stuck around and basically threw their money in this mysterious pit, Y'all helped pay my bills when I was literally too mentally wrecked to work. And thanks to everyone else who sent me random good vibes, hoped I was okay, said nice things about my art, and were generally pretty cool even though I fled social media. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[glystenangel]

Better in Love

Bodyguard!Toji x Brat&Afab!Reader (Historical AU)

Series Summary: you're the daughter of a feudal lord, and Toji becomes your bodyguard. then, you fall in love

Chapters: 3/5

Chapter Summary: you and toji run from your feelings

Status: Completed

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slight angst

~1.9k

thanks for reading and enjoy<3

Ch. 3 - Run Down

There seemed to be a shift between you two after that day.

Toji became the first person you would share good news with, and the last person you expected to tuck you into bed when you would fall asleep while reading anywhere on the estate that wasn’t your room. However, he did so without fail and seemed to make the unexpected happen often. Any time you craved a certain dish, it would be prepared by the cooks and on your plate by the next day without you mentioning it to anyone but your attentive bodyguard. Also, whenever you picked fruit in the gardens, gathering them in the hem of your skirts, he would tap your shoulder and then his own in askance. You would then sit on his shoulders so that you could reach the higher branches, and you always thanked him with the ripest pieces of fruit. Sometimes, when he was guarding your bedroom door and you couldn’t sleep, you two would converse through the door. He would tell you stories he had heard in his travels, and you would listen to the grit of his voice until you succumbed to sleep. 

On days where he was training or sparring with the royal guards in the courtyard, you would return his kindness by offering to sharpen his blades beforehand and then cheering him on. He wouldn’t pay you any mind during these sessions, but once everyone was dismissed by the head guard he would return to your side and let you know how good of a job you did with maintaining his swords, swinging one in his hand and claiming that maybe you were good for something other than being a spoiled princess. Despite his insults, you gleaned the thankful compliments tossed within them.

For all of his efforts, you decided to additionally bestow him with an embroidered good luck charm during breakfast.

“What is it?” He sneered, holding up the intricately sewn charm by its loop.

“It’s a worm! Like the ones we see in the garden.” You excitedly leaned across the table, tracing the curvy shape. “I gave it a little face too.”

“You can’t be serious.”

You frowned, “They’re cute. I thought you liked them.”

You had seen him pick one up once, wordlessly letting it crawl onto his finger from a low bush branch before crouching down and setting it back onto damp earth. He had watched it tunnel back underground, a small smile on his normally expressionless face.

“Whatever.” Toji shrugged, closing a fist around the gift.

Later in the week, you could see he had tied it around one of his sword handles, and you radiated happiness from seeing it dangle in the breeze as his swords clacked at his side.

He had caught you smiling at the sight, quirking up the arch of his brow.

“What?”

“Nothing!”

“You’re not a very good liar, princess.” He leaned down to meet your gaze, and you instinctively mirrored his movement. Your lips felt the pressure of Toji’s stare, and you almost closed your eyes when the sudden scratch of one of the household servants’ sandals on the garden’s cobblestones made you turn towards the garden entrance.

“My lady…and sir.” The servant bowed to you both as soon as they reached you.

You copied their bow before folding your hands against your stomach.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, your father just wants to speak with you.”

“I see, lead the way.” You stepped forward, and Toji naturally followed.

“Oh, alone. Without Toji.”

You sent him a panicked glance, but he calmly jut his chin in the direction of the main house.

“I’ll go back to your room. See you there?”

You nodded, apprehension knotting your insides as you left him in the garden.

_________________

“Oh good, you’re here.”

“Hello, father.” You bowed, and the servant who brought you to your father’s study did the same before taking their leave.

“You must be wondering why I called for you.”

“A little bit.” You gave him a nervous smile, smoothing down the silky fabric of your attire as you took the seat across from him.

He sighed, “I’m just going to get straight to the point. You’ve grown so much now, it’s time.”

The words brought you even less comfort, and you began wringing your hands.

“A neighboring lord has a son, and he has requested your hand in marriage.”

You knocked over a handful of papers from the desk from how rapidly you stood.

“What did you tell him?”

Your father sadly stared into your eyes. “I’m getting older, and I would like to see you taken care of. I won’t force you, but I think you should-”

“No.” You began backing away, feeling your back hit the door.

“My dear-”

You flung open the door, blood rushing past your ears and nearly tripping over the floor as you ran until you could see Toji standing in front of your room just as he promised. Seeing him made your heart ache, and you couldn’t understand why in the flurry of emotions clouding your thoughts.

Upon hearing your urgent footsteps, he sprinted to meet you in the middle of the hall.

“Easy, princess. What’s wrong?” He brushed the loose hair out of your face, placing his hand on your cheek as you tried to catch your breath.

“My father arranged a marriage for me.” You clutched at the fabric of his clothing, searching his face. 

He dropped his hand, “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?” You felt your voice rise in anger and pitch, “You’re supposed to be protecting me!”

“I don’t need to protect you from your husband.” He glared at you, and then raked his hand through his dark locks, “I’m just your bodyguard. You know that.”

A hollow feeling washed over you, and you could feel the delicate seams of your heart ripping to shreds. You covered your mouth with a firm palm, trying to stifle the cry you wanted to let out. It was incredibly bad timing for you to realize you had fallen in love with Fushiguro Toji. If the devastation of your father’s news and Toji’s callousness hadn’t made you want to sob, you would laugh.

He reached for you, sighing and stepping closer, “Here, let’s get you calmed down.”

The tips of his fingers barely grazed your shoulder when you started running again. The pure emotion was too much for you to face at the moment, and you felt the desperate need to be alone. You wove between doorways and confused servants, not stopping until you lost Toji and raced out of the back gate to find refuge in the woods.

_________________

Tears streamed down your face as soon as you made it past the treeline, and you eventually found a fallen tree to sit upon as you consoled yourself.

You knew it was rather pointless, since you were exhausted and Toji could definitely track you. Even so, the wind whistling through the leaves and the petal hued sky brought you some peace as you deeply breathed in the earthy air. The sky continued to darken as you mulled over your thoughts, the arranged marriage and your feelings towards Toji weighing on you. Your lungs no longer pleaded for air, but every breath brought a stinging sensation to the corner of your eyes.

By the time Toji found you, the world was dipped in a hazy purple filter.

“You fucking brat!”

You were slow to face him, wiping at your remaining tears and ignoring him.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.”

When you stubbornly refused to acknowledge him, he lifted you by the wrist and spun you around.

You were dumbfounded by the intensity of his stare and the absolutely wild state he was in. In all honesty, he looked like an absolute wreck. The scarred man appeared to be out of breath and the ropy muscles of his lumbering figure were tense, as if every fiber of his being was clenched with stress. His normally slicked back hair was tousled, you guessed from foraging the woods for you, and his forehead sheened with moisture. Flashes of murderous rage and something you couldn’t quite place swirled in the green of his eyes, and you winced when he started scolding you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” It was almost more of a statement than a question, every word seething with incredible frustration.

“Leave me alone.”

“Like Hell I will.” He scoffed contemptuously, “Your father almost had a heart attack. I’m taking you home.”

“I’m not going. I refuse.” You struggled to free yourself from his grip, wriggling your wrist and twisting your arm with determination.

“Stop that.” Toji chided, though he softened his hold.

“Let me go!” You ordered, venom in your words and hot tears lining your eyes again.

“You have to go home. Your father-”

“I don’t want to be married to someone I don’t love!” You finally shouted, your tearfilled eyes meeting his.

A swallow did little to soothe the emotion rising in your throat.

The next time your voice came out it was hardly a whisper, “Can’t you help me?”

Silence.

Toji grit his teeth, sighing alongside the wind.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

The reluctant sentiment filled a broken shard of your heart with hope, “What?”

Toji looked away, allowing another drawn out silence to coil itself between you.

“Just don’t. Please.”

It was the first time you had ever heard him beg. 

“Toji, what are you talking about?” You moved closer, raising your free hand and attempting to turn his face back towards your concerned visage.

The touch made him instantly reel back, and he shook his head.

“No. Don’t. You don’t get to do that after today.”

You drew back, pressing the rejected hand over your heart. 

“Toji, please talk to me.”

“Stop!” A deep roar left him, and when he met your eyes again the hope in your heart died from his icy gaze.

“Just stop, okay? I’m taking you home.”

The aggravated request muted you, and he quietly led you home. His hand was still wrapped around your wrist, but it felt as though he was farther than ever.

Your father crushed you in a hug as soon as you crossed the threshold, worriedly checking you over and expressing the utmost gratitude to Toji. Your bodyguard said nothing, only politely bowing and walking off to his room.

That night, Toji didn’t appear to guard your room, and you cried yourself to sleep.

_________________

The next morning, your bodyguard was still nowhere to be found, and your father joined you for breakfast instead.

“Good morning, my dear.” 

Normally, the presence of your father was appreciated, but after yesterday you held little fondness for him and his arrival only punctuated Toji’s absence.

“Good morning, where is Toji?”

The same, sad stare your father gave you the day before crossed his face again.

“Toji left this morning. He quit.”

It was like your heart was broken for a second time. A deafening ring filled your ears, and you felt the burdensome hand of grief on your shoulders.

You gripped the fabric of your dress, certainly leaving marks in the skin below.

“Where is he?”

“My dear, are you alright?”

“Tell me where he is!” You rose to your feet, and he looked at you in shock. Undoubtedly, you had not raised your voice at him since you were a mere child.

“I told him the ferry takes passengers at the port.”

The words finished leaving his lips right as you rushed out the door.

________________

End Notes:

she's a runner, she's a track starrrr🏃✨ rly gettin those steps in lmao

we're heading to spice town soon btw

tag list: @brumous11

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[blu-joons]

Road Trip Snacks ~ Jung Hoseok

You couldn’t prevent the cheer that came from you as you heard the indicator of the car come on, glancing across to see that Hobi was ready to turn left. His smile grew as he listened to your reaction beside him, knowing how desperate you were to stop.

You were bouncing as Hobi drove into the service station, looking around at the different stores that were available as he tried to find a parking space nearby to the entrance.

“I take it you want to get some food,” Hobi teased as the car pulled up, watching you hurry to unplug your seatbelt and get yourself out of the car to stretch your legs.

“I love going on road trips, but four hours in the car without a stop is too much,” you sighed, shaking your legs to try and wake them up.

Hobi did the same before walking around to your side of the car, “come on, let’s look around.”

Your hand intertwined in with Hobi’s as he offered it out to you, holding onto him tightly, with your fingertips stretching up to tickle against the fluffy ends of the fleece that he wore.

His smile was still wide as he noticed the spring that was in your step as the two of you walked into the services, spinning around to take a look at the shops and restaurants that were around.

“We need some more snacks, we’ve got five more hours left before we get to the destination,” you reminded him almost straight away, noticing several sweet shops around the place.

“Maybe we should get some actual lunch rather than just filling up on sweets,” Hobi suggested, the much more sensible of the two of you, “they’ve got some burger places if you want to get one, or there’s a hot dog spot there too, I think I’ve been to one of them before with the boys.”

“What do you fancy?” You asked him, happy to go along with whatever Hobi wanted to. “You’re the one that’s been busy doing all of the driving, so you decide what you think will give you the most energy to finish the trip.”

You could see straight away that Hobi’s eye was on one place, and one place only. The hot dog stand was almost calling out his name, reminding him of just how delicious they were before the two of you had gotten anywhere near the stall and enjoyed the smell of them.

“I’ll pick the food and you pick the coffee,” Hobi then offered, not wanting to be the only one responsible for picking where you shopped, then we can both get what we want to enjoy.”

Your head nodded at Hobi’s offer, feeling his hand pull you almost straight away towards where the hot dogs were. “Do you just want a hot dog?” Hobi asked, glancing up to look at the menu boards that were hung up over the top of the stall, “or shall we share a chips too?”

He was speaking your language, knowing straight away from the smile on your face what you wanted to eat. Straight away, Hobi pulled out his wallet as he spoke to the woman at the stall, letting her know exactly what the two of you wanted.

“I’m paying for coffee,” you warned as soon as Hobi was done.

“If you’re paying for coffee then I’m paying for travel sweets.”

“No,” you laughed, “if you pay for travel sweets then I’ll just pay for the petrol at the next stop.”

A chuckle came from Hobi, followed by a shake of his head, “is this how we’re going to be for the whole road trip, taking it in turns to pay for things?” Hobi laughed, struggling to see a way out of your loophole.

 “I’m paying for most things because you’re the one driving,” you warned Hobi.

His head shook once again though, “I’m not letting you do that, I told you the other day that driving is no problem at all, you’re not a fan of the main roads.”

It was the one downside to your road trip when you first set off, you were terrified of the busy main roads when you were used to Seoul. Hobi knew that it played on your mind, offering to take control of driving to make life much easier for you.

Your conversation was broken by the woman at the counter calling out your order, with Hobi stepping forwards and taking the two hot dogs and a portion of chips. The smell was incredible as he came back to you, leaving you feeling even more hungry than you did before.

“Americano?” You simply asked him as the two of you began to walk across to the coffee store, “or are you thinking about getting an iced drink instead?”

“Americano is good,” Hobi grinned, taking a seat on a bench with your food so that he could wait for you to grab the coffees. “I’ll wait here and then we can tick the final box off of our list and grab some sweets for the rest of the journey.”

You rushed into the coffee store to place your order, not wanting to leave Hobi for too long, but more importantly, not wanting to let your food go cold too. In no time at all you returned to Hobi, waving him across so that you could go and buy some sweets too.

He rushed behind you as you entered the store, quickly pulling packets off of the rails to keep you busy for the rest of your journey. “Are you just buying anything?” Hobi laughed, struggling to keep up with what you were doing.

Your head nodded, trying your best to hold everything with just one hand, “whatever we don’t eat in the car, we can take into the hotel with us to enjoy.”

“Can we get some chocolate too?” Hobi asked you, “if I eat just sweets, I think I’m going to end up having a sugar fix behind the wheel this afternoon.”

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll pick it up.”

You were careful of the food that was in Hobi’s hand, not wanting to drop a single bit of it. “Maybe we should have picked up a basket to be able to carry all of this.”

Watching you struggle brought a smile to Hobi’s face, knowing just how keen you were to get some more sweet treats for your journey, not thinking about anything else. Somehow you managed to carry it to the checkout, thankfully getting a bag once you’d paid.

“Are you ready to get back on the road?” Hobi asked you as the two of you began to make your way back out into the carpark, “we’ve for a few more hours ahead of us yet.”

“I’ll be glad when we get to the hotel,” you laughed in response.

Hobi nodded in agreement with you, “hopefully the roads should clear up now that the rush hour is gone, we can just eat, play some good music and I’m sure that we’ll get to the destination in no time at all.”

“You need to eat before driving,” you reminded him, helping Hobi to get his keys out of his pocket, “only start driving once you feel ready to, we really are in no rush at all to get ourselves to the hotel Hobi.”

He smiled back across at you, getting into the car and placing your hot dogs in his lap. As ever, you kept a watchful eye on him, knowing that although he didn’t mind driving, he still needed to take care of himself.

“This is turning out to be a pretty cool road trip,” you commented.

“And the best bit is, it’s only just begun.”

---

Masterlist

[itsleese]

Rent-a-boyfriend Bakugo. Lonely reader rents him out and he knows he's out of her league, but he's getting paid so whatever. Reader keeps coming back for him and only ever picks him. He gets annoyed with how she apologizes for always picking him, how even though he's getting paid he'd probably rather be with anyone but her, but she appreciates his company. When rent-a-boyfriend Bakugo doesn't see you for a while. When he starts thinking about you while out with other customers and eventually even when he's off the job.

stop! i love this! this could be an entire rom-com fic, but just take this!! 😌✨

You’re impressed with everything: the location, the menu, the chair you’re currently sitting on. Shindou looked ridiculously dashing in his suit, and his cologne had you weak in the knees, butterflies in your stomach fluttering when he’d touched your lower back and guided you to the table. He’d told you to ‘dress expensive’, but you didn’t really expect a crystal chandelier-type-restaurant.

So, there you are, dressed in the most extortionate LBD you could afford, a full face of makeup, and fresh press-on nails. They’re a little annoying, and you’ve accidentally placed your right middle nail on a smidge crooked, which you really can’t help but notice, not to mention how irritating your false lashes are—

“I’m just gonna head to the men’s room,” Shindou rises, those dark eyes set on you. “Don’t go anywhere, little mouse.” He warns playfully, warming your cheeks.

Your eyes follow him as he walks away, the way he’d looked at you fresh in your memory, your heart beating uneasily.

He’s going to expect something after lashing out all of this cash; something you’re not quite sure you’re willing to give.

“Lookin’ a little sad for a date in this place,”

Your breath hitches, head quickly turning to see someone else sitting in your date’s chair; someone you’d honestly rather be sitting with.

“You look nice,” he says, your face warming as his eyes travel your face, neck, chest. “You on a date?” He asks, as if he doesn’t know.

People start to whisper. Of course they do, this isn’t the type of place that accepts men in hoodies and sweats, let alone men that take the seats of others.

“Bakugo, what are you doing here?” You whisper, the many sets of eyes boring into your skull setting you on edge.

He leans back lazily, throwing an elbow over the back of his chair, “haven’t seen you for a couple’a weeks; you done with me?” He asks shamelessly, those red eyes almost glaring at you, anxiety bubbling up your throat.

You look away, you have to, “I, uh, I figured you’d be sick of me, so I... branched out.”

“Did I say I was sick of you?”

“Bakugo, it’s... I’m not good enough to be around you.” You mutter, eyes dropping to the table, the expensive and numerous silverware, the deep red of the tablecloth.

“Then why am I so angry that you’re out with some other guy? Looking like that, no less.” He’s looking away— glaring pout on his face— daring one of the waiters to come over and tell him to leave the establishment.

Despite how flustered he’s made you, you want to question him, ask him what he really means. Did he really come here to—

“Bakugo? Get outta my chair.” Shindou sneers, folding his arms and looking down his nose at the competition.

“Don’t think I will, asshole,” Bakugo snaps back, red glare fixed to him.

“She’s not interested in you or your company anymore; she’s got me now, don’t you, sweetheart?” He asks, not waiting for an answer. “Now, get outta my chair before I call security to take care of your sorry ass.”

The chair screeches and you stand, breath held in your chest, bottom lip fixed between your teeth. “I’ll still pay you for tonight,” you say, meeting the deep brown eyes of your date, “but I’m not staying, sorry.” You bow— briefly— then step away from the table, leaving both men gawking.

“Hey!” Comes a gruff yell from the blonde, but you keep walking, too overwhelmed and embarrassed— people are still watching you as you escape— to turn and look him in the eye.

You make it to the foyer of the restaurant before he grabs your wrist, reels you around to face him, “stop running from me!” He growls, tugging you against him, wrapping your naked shoulders in his clothed arms, his forehead falling to the crook of your neck.

Your eyes close, and only basking in the warmth of his hug did you realise just how cold you were. Just how alone you were.

“I...” he starts, breath hot against your collarbone, “I’d be— fuck, just don’t date other men.” He finishes heatedly, fingers pinching into the clothed skin at your waist.

“Okay, Bakugo,” you breathe softly, using what little mobility you have in your arms to pinch your fingers in his hoodie. “Take me home?”

He breathes out a sigh— exhaustion mixed with elation— and stands tall, loosening his grip on you a little. “You’re not hungry?”

You are, but you fall against his chest, missing that warmth. “We can order in,” you mumble, smile growing on your face as his low chuckle fills your ears.

His arms tighten around you, “that we can,” he agrees huskily. “That sounds perfect.”

[koushou]

an archon’s jealousy

pairing : zhongli x f!reader {fluff}

warnings : none! zhongli cuteness overload 

word count : 1.8k

a/n : genshin has taken over my life so enjoy my favorite peepaw 

the geo archon, once feared by all beings in teyvat, was known for his strength and abilities in battle, as well as his logical way of thinking and planning. his weakness? well, he’s definitely not great with emotions. especially jealousy.

“Ah, this painting reminds me of when an old friend and I had been travelling together for the first time, there was-” 

Zhongli turns around, smiling as he reminisces of events from hundreds of years ago, however turning into a frown quickly. 

His golden eyes scan the dining room, sighing as they fail to identify a certain someone. Placing his cup of tea down onto the polished wooden table, he walks out to the private balcony area of Wangmin Restaurant, breathing in the familiar fresh air of the nation he’d known for as long as he existed.

It had been two days.

Two days since he’s spoken to his lover, two days since the small quarrel you both had in the exact restaurant he’s currently standing in.

It had been quite a trivial matter in his opinion, when a young waitress working there had just been a tad kinder to the geo archon, leaving a few light touches here and there. Even “accidentally” spilling tea over herself, putting on a show of cleaning herself. 

Not noticing the dark glare of his lover from across the table, he offers the apologizing waitress a small smile, assuring her it wasn’t a big deal. As she walks away, he finally turns back to the now fuming Y/N who was shoving food down her throat to avoid speaking to him.

He chuckles softly, still unaware of the reason for your anger, “Love, slow down, the food isn’t going anywhere.”

Refusing to acknowledge his presence, you huff and continue chewing your food as if he wasn’t even there. Zhongli looks at you with a confused expression, but just before he had a chance to speak, the waitress returns.

She takes a few of your plates that were finished being used, occasionally sending small looks at your boyfriend, oblivious to the whole situation.

“I love your earring, Mr. Zhongli,” she bats her eyelashes at the man, your man, as she continues cleaning the table at record slow speed. 

“Ah, thank you.” He sends a small nod her way, not noticing the way she might as well be sitting on top of him with the close proximity of their two bodies. 

“Where did you get it from?” You roll your eyes while still focusing on your food, anyone could tell the way she was speaking in a faker, higher tone.

“Actually, they were gifted from an old friend of mine, we would travel together all the time and-” Zhongli goes off on one of his rants again, to the waitress’s pleasant surprise. To your shock, she takes a seat right next to your unsuspecting boyfriend who was still speaking, nodding along with his words. 

The audacity of this bi-

You slam your hands on the table abruptly, stopping Zhongli in his story as he looks up at you.

You shoot the coldest stare at him, one that even the geo archon, who had fought every monster, travelled to every corner of the world, swore sent shivers through his body.

“Love?”

“I’m finished, have fun on your date,” You spat, emphasizing the last word, and you could’ve sworn you saw the waitress roll her eyes.

Leaving Zhongli still in a confused state, you stormed out of the room, not paying mind to the distant protests of your boyfriend.

Zhongli sighs, snapping out of his thoughts, leaning against the railing of the balcony. He had walked out and tried to find you, but failed and you hadn’t appeared since.

After finally consulting Childe, the last person he’d ever want to speak to, about why you had acted like the way you did, he simply laughed at the man, claiming that you had been feeling jealous.

That had left Zhongli even more confused. Jealous? He was simply sharing his tales with a curious person, what was there to be jealous of?

He sighs again, ready to head back into the dining room until he spots a familiar figure below him.

You were standing below the balcony he was on, not seeming to realize he was there. Zhongli breathes a sigh of relief, oh how he missed seeing you. About to go down and surprise you, he stops in his tracks when he sees a young man walk up to you and begin talking.

An unfamiliar feeling seeps through his body when you laugh at something the stranger said, a wonderful sound he thought was reserved for him, and him only. 

You probably knew each other, that’s why you guys looked so close, right? Friends can laugh at each other, of course there was nothing wrong with the scene unfolding before the archon. That’s why the man’s hand had reached towards a stray strand of hair and tucked it behind your ear, right?

Zhongli grits his teeth, and makes his way down the restaurant as fast as his feet could take him.

He could hear you giggling upon walking out the restaurant’s doors, and quickly makes his way to you.

Walking up behind you, he slips an arm around your waist and pulls you softly back against his chest. 

You let out a surprised yelp, ready to attack whoever was touching you, until you turned and saw that it had just been your boyfriend, who seemed to be seething at the moment.

“Zhongli..?” Something about him seemed a little different, maybe it was the way he glared daggers into the other man who had just been talking to you and touching you. 

If looks could kill? Let’s just say The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor has an extra client today. 

“Hey love, I missed you,” Zhongli presses a kiss to your cheek, “Who might this be?” 

A bit flustered from the contact, you looked at the other man who seemed on the verge of peeing himself right there, and had to suppress a laugh.

“Ah, this is just a friend I met a few days ago when I was exploring, he-“

Before you could finish your sentence, the man stutters out an incoherent sentence and almost trips over himself running off in the other direction.

You raise an eyebrow, turning your head back to look at Zhongli who was still holding you protectively against him. He had created a small yellow meteor in his hand and was currently levitating it above his palm in a threatening manner.

He turns to you, putting the meteor away, smiling as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Zhongli, you scared him away.”

He puts on a thinking face, nodding slowly.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, no— That’s it? You probably scared the poor man into thinking you were going to murder him or somethin-”

He chuckles and raises your chin up to face him with one finger, “Then maybe next time, he should think before touching something that belongs to me.”

You huff, cheeks tinting the lightest shade of red before pushing him away.

“Whatever, I’m going now.”

You start to walk away, not before Zhongli catches your arm and stops you.

“Love, are you still angry?”

You could hear the concern in your boyfriend’s voice, and your heart softens a bit. In truth, you had already forgotten the incident back at the restaurant a few days ago and was about to apologize today when the man from before had stopped you. 

A lightbulb went off in your head, so you decide to play with him a little longer. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Snatching your hand back from his grasp, you continue walking away from your surprised boyfriend.

He quickly follows you, unsure of how to continue. He couldn’t just ask you if you had been jealous, could he?

As your boyfriend got lost in his thoughts of how to ask, you almost laughed at his intense thinking face while nervously walking beside you. 

“Uh, I-,” He cleared his throat before speaking.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you that day, I did not realize that it would have made you feel jealous.” 

He takes both of your hands in his, softly enveloping them as he continues.

“From now on, I promise that I’ll only share my stories with you, and you only, so don’t worry, love.”

He smiles at you, as you suddenly burst out in laughter. 

“What is so funny?” Zhongli asks, confused.

“Nothing, nothing at all, baby,” You finally recover from your laughing and wrap your arms around his waist.

Leaning your head against his chest, you couldn’t help but smile at the way your boyfriend thought you were upset because he was sharing his stories with another person, when you had just been jealous of another woman being so close to him. It was adorable.

Deciding not to tease him any further, you lift your head up from his chest to press a kiss against his lips. 

His eyes brighten instantly. “So, does this mean you forgive me?” 

If Zhongli was a dog, his tails would be wagging expectantly at you with puppy dog eyes right now.

You giggle, nodding at him. “Of course I forgive you, just don’t talk to other girls like that again.”

You pout, as he chuckles and leans down to give you another kiss. 

“I promise, love.” He softly strokes your hair, running the strands through his fingers.

“I also didn’t like seeing you with that man, so don’t let anyone besides me touch you, alright?”

You smile against him, nodding and opening your mouth to speak again when your stomach suddenly rumbles.

Eyes widening, you push away a now laughing Zhongli, embarrassed.

“I assume you’re hungry, my love?” He teases at you, taking your hand in his as he begins to walk the both of you back to Wangmin Restaurant.

“Who was the one who cut my meal short two days ago? I barely had anything to eat recently because I didn’t have any mora on me.” You take your hand out of his hold, crossing your arms and looking the other way.

He laughs softly at you, taking your hand back and kissing your knuckles softly. 

“Ah, you haven’t been eating welI?” He looks at you with concern laced in his golden eyes.

“I apologize, darling, but… I have something to confess to you.”

You turn to him, curious at his words. “What is it?”

“I..do not have mora on me at the moment either.”

“What?! You’re literally the god of mora, Zhongli, but you don’t even-“

He cuts you off short with a kiss, smirking against your lips as he feels you blush.

Pulling away, he chuckles and shrugs. “We can go ask Childe, come on.”

You laugh and continue walking with him, “Poor Childe, at least he’s useful for one thing.”

Zhongli lets out a laugh, as you two walk off, hand in hand, searching for your human wallet.

[demonsandmischief]

106 (Part 2)

Marvel - A Captain America Imagine

Steve Rogers x Female Reader

800 Words

Here's Part 1

-Part 2-

The future becomes more certain.

----

"I am in need of some calm," Steve said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Space, time travel, losing people I loved, it was all a lot to handle at once."

You sympathized with his confession. "My mom died a few weeks before I blipped, but my dad supposedly got sick while I was gone."

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "I can't imagine how that feels."

"I can't imagine what you've seen, what you've gone through," you shook your head. The last few years seemed to be nothing but pain for the world. It was a heavy burden to carry.

"And yet, right now, makes it all seem worth it," he said with a soft whisper, the same slight smile brightening his solemn features.

You could feel your face heat at his sweet words. His deep drawl healing away all of today's problems.

"You said you had a place outside of the city?" Steve asked.

"Just a small apartment. Where do you live?"

He gave a deep sigh, a crooked smile on his face as he soaked you in, "I don't know that I have a place. I crash everywhere. I was on the run after the Sokovia accords, and then I was so busy after."

You knew what he was getting at and you smiled. "You could always stay with me, if you'd like?"

"I'd never want to put you out."

"You wouldn't be. I would enjoy having someone around."

He reached out to run his rough, calloused hand down your face. It was almost like he couldn't believe you were real.

----

It had been a few weeks. Steve stayed at your place with you. Even for what little work he did have, he didn't stray far.

You still couldn't find a job, and you were quickly eating through your savings and the money your parent's had left you.

The two of you were eating a quiet dinner when Steve spoke up, "If you could live anywhere, where would it be?"

You hummed, swirling your spoon around, "I'd like to have some land, have some animals and a garden or something."

"Sounds like a quiet life," he whispered, and you looked up, wondering where he was getting at. "I thought the guy who wanted all of that went in the ice, but then..."

"Where are you going with this, Steve?" you asked him.

"The government has offered me a pardon for what happened all those years ago, and they're also offering to pay for my retirement."

You reached for his hand across the table and he laced your fingers. "But you don't want to retire, do you?"

"Retirement wouldn't mean I stopped working. I could accept this money, and still do my own thing privately."

You stacked your dishes and carried them to the sink. "That would probably mean giving up the Captain America mantle though."

He shrugged, and you could tell what he was thinking. He had already parted ways with it.

"I want to be more than Captain America," he said it so softly that the clanging of dishes nearly covered it.

He held out his arms and you tucked yourself into his chest.

"You are more than that," you mumbled, rubbing his back. "Especially to me."

He kissed the crown of your head. "We would be set with this money though. It's a very generous amount. We could get that little farm you want."

You pulled away, finding his haunted blue eyes. "Steve..." you whispered.

"I want to buy a home with you."

You reached up to cup his face, "You're so sweet, you know that? But I don't want you accepting the offer because of me. We can figure something else out."

He leaned down to brush his lips with yours, "I don't want to figure anything else out. You're all I want, honey. I mean maybe, later on, I'd like a kid or two." He grinned cheekily.

"Or three," you smiled.

Steve kissed you fiercely, "Or four."

"I'm going to stop you there," you chuckled, kissing his cheek and nuzzling his neck.

Your thoughts started to run with dreams, dreams with Steve and dreams of family. The future had always been uncertain for you, but maybe things could look up.

He gave a wistful sigh, "Besides, I know the perfect man for taking up the mantle. I think I deserve this, the simple life, with you."

"You know I'll support you no matter what. Whatever you choose, it doesn't make you any less of a person."

He rested his head on top of yours, a soft I love you floating from his lips and swelling your heart.

The End

----

Tags: @bklynxbaby @sammyirwin24