#best concrete anchors | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simp4wom3n · 2 years ago

Text

A Broken Ankle + A Whole Heart

Pairing: Alba Baptista x fem!Reader

Requested: Yes/No ~ request

Summary: Y/n has hidden a crush on Alba for quite a while now and was getting quite good at it. An accident on set that should be considered as ruining their day, actually leads to something that makes their year. ~ Word Count: 2.108k ~ Warnings: mentions of injuries + pain but other than that fluffffff

A/N: Hi!! a fanfic not for Jenna whatttttt. It felt weird writing for someone else but I genuinely love Alba sm so for those of you that are Jenna stans GIVE MY GIRL A CHANCE like LOOK AT THAT GIF - also if you haven't already, watch warrior nun <3

The day before Christmas break was always one of great energy and celebration. As per tradition, the entire cast had organised a movie marathon at the end of the day in order for everyone to wind down and say 'see you later' for a few weeks. The set of 'Warrior Nun' was by far one of your favourites you had ever worked on. The cast and crew all genuinely loved working on the show, which combined by the enthusiasm of the fans, made for a dream job. You had also met Alba.

The two of became really close when you were filming season 1, becoming practically inseparable by the time season 2 came around. You had never met anyone as perfect as Alba. She was everything you had always admired in someone, which naturally made you feel some less-than-platonic feelings for her. You were constantly afraid of them. You always kept your feelings to yourself for fear of driving her away and losing your best friend. You didn't even know whether she liked girls let alone liked you.

You were good at hiding your emotions, so things went on as usual, with the two of you having a blast while filming. Alba was currently filming a scene in which she was suspended on wires quite high up, which worried you. As much fun as the wires were to use, they always felt sketchy to you, especially today. You ignored your bad feeling and returned to the sidelines to watch her. She was incredibly talented at many things, one of which was acting, so even if you weren't needed, you would always stand off to the side and watch her completely awestruck.

Laid back in a chair just behind the cameras, you watched with a tender smile as Alba managed to absolutely crush the difficult scene despite being restricted by the wires. 'That must be so uncomfortable' you thought to yourself, cringing as your eyes traced the wires knowing how irritating they can get. As your cautious eyes followed the wires to their anchor point, your face dropped. Your smile of admiration completely disappeared as you noticed the hook that supported the entire rig was loose, hanging at an awkward angle from the concrete.

As your eyes studied the hook, wracking your brain as to whether or not it was supposed to look like that, you slowly rose from your seat with concern plastered all over your face. Glancing between Alba and the hook, you crept closer so you were stood just out of frame, the cameraman sending you a cautious look before focusing back on the camera. Turning your head towards the stunt director, you were about to voice your concern before you heard a sickening crack. your head immediately snapping back to Alba, her eyes widening with concern as they meet yours.

It all happens within a spilt second. The hooks falls. She drops. Your running. Sprinting. You have no idea how you moved so fast - all you knew was you had to get to her before she hit the ground, and you did. Slipping yourself between Alba and the floor, although it wasn't necessarily graceful, you managed to somewhat catch her causing her to fall on top of you. Maybe you hadn't quite thought about how this would end for you, but in that split second decision you made, all you were thinking about was Alba. As the two of collapse in a pile, you feel a sharp pain shoot through your right angle causing to to grunt. Pushing the dull ache and throbbing of your ankle beside, you immediately sit up to check if Alba is ok.

"You ok?" you ask breathlessly as your eyes search her body for any obvious injuries. "Y-yeah I'm ok. Thanks", replying obviously still in shock as to what just happened, she offers you a small smile as you untangle yourselves. The two of you linger on the ground for a moment, just looking into each others eyes, breathless. You completely forgot that you were surrounded by the rest of the crew until some of them came running up to the both of you, breaking your trance as your eyes left her brown ones.

Alba is helped to her feet before she turns her attention back to you, offering you her hand. Your lips twitch into a smile as you slip your hands into hers, trying to ignore how perfect her hand fits in yours. "Ow fuck" you immediately fall back down after trying to stand up, you hands grasping your ankle as the throbbing of your now swollen joint resurfaces, no longer hidden by your adrenaline. "Shit" Alba immediately kneels in front of you as her eyebrows scrunch in a combination of confusion and concern. "Y/n?!? Hey what's wrong what happened?" she places her hand on your arm, sending instant butterflies throughout your body - now was really not the time. "I don't know... I think I landed on my ankle or something but fu..." you manage to mutter as your face scrunches in pain.

As the on set medic reaches your side, Alba sits back as a wave of guilt washes over her. "This is all my fault" she whispers - so quietly you probably wouldn't have heard it if you weren't watching her intently. Propping yourself up on your elbows as the medic assesses your ankle, you reach one of your hands towards her. You notice the tears brimming in her eyes as she looks at you, her hands clutching her chest as if she was in pain. Giving her a small nod towards your outstretched hand, she gets the signal as she picks it up in her own. "Alba" you comfort softly, giving her hand a soft squeeze. "This isn't your fault. Ok? I chose to be your personal crash mat and I don't regret it" you earn a small chuckle from the girl as a single tear manages to escape and roll down her cheek.

"I'm fine Alba I swear. It just hurts like a b... owww" your face scrunches in pain again as the medic pushes on an especially tender spot. He mutters a small apology as you look back at Alba. "I would give you a hug but I'm a bit... immobilised." you chuckle softly as she glares at you. "Too soon?" you joke earning another small giggle from the girl, a sound you will never get tired of. "I just want you to be ok" she explains softly, a smile tugging at your lips as you feel warmth rise to your cheeks. "I will be. Wouldn't want to miss that movie marathon now would I."

So it turns out your ankle was most definitely broken. Unable to walk, Alba and the medic helped you to your car where said medic would drive you to the hospital. As you hobbled over to the car, you were entirely distracted by the proximity of you and Alba, one of her arms wrapped tightly around your waist, the other holding your arm wrapped around her shoulders. Just the slightest of her touches sent you spiralling so you tried your hardest to hide your definitely obvious blush - which you doubt you were successful at.

Much to Alba's dismay, she had to stay on set in order for the crew to meet the scene requirements before the break, meaning she couldn't accompany you. "I really wish I could come with you" she gives your waist a gentle squeeze as you finally make it to your car. "I would've liked that" your lips upturned in a soft smile, "but they need you here so" "Yeah I know. Still sucks though." "That it does.". She opens the passenger door for you before rewrapping her arms around your waist and helping you sit down. "I'll be fine I promise. I'll be back before you know it." "You better be". Once again your eyes become locked to hers. The air around you shifts. The surrounding environment fades as your façade slips, biting your lip softly as you glance at her lips. She mirrors your movements before she takes a step closer and starting to bend down. 'holy shit this is happening'

"We should probably go" the medic blurts out, snapping the two of you out of whatever incredibly intimate trance you were in. Alba goes bright red as she stands up straight and takes a step away from you. Realisation soon washes over you as to what was about to happen as your cheeks mirror hers. "Yeah, let's go. I'll see you later" you smile timidly before closing the door. As the medic drives out of the parking lot, your eyes remain on Alba as she stands still, almost frozen after what just happened - not the most reassuring.

It had been hours since you had left and Alba still couldn't take her mind off of you. She couldn't focus. She kept messing up her lines, missing her cues, it was fair to say it was going horribly. Thankfully she had made it to the last scene of the day which involved very few lines - a blessing considering you hadn't returned and with the marathon starting shortly, she was just hoping you would keep your promise.

"Cut!" you heard the director yell as you made your way back onto set, armed with two crutches and a cast. A little bit delirious from all the pain medications, you had been non-stop thinking about Alba - being honest with yourself you probably would've done that with or without the medication - but she never left your mind. Sure your last interaction with her was a little bit awkward, but all you cared about now, was seeing her again.

As you made your way towards them as quickly as your crutches would let you, you spotted Alba off to the side amongst all the crew packing up. A smile instantly grew on your face as you slowed your pace and headed directly towards her. Stopping a small distance away, you took a minute to admire her. In full costume and holding a water bottle in one hand and her phone in the other, she tucked a small strand of hair behind her ears as she looked down the check her phone. You can see disappointment flash across her face, although you aren't sure why, as she picks up her head and places her phone in her other hand. She runs her hand through her hair as she turns towards you. The second your eyes make contact, hers widen as her lips crack into a giddy smile - one which you match.

Running towards you, she basically crashes into you as she pulls you into a warm embrace. "Woah" you chuckle, "Careful I'm not exactly stable" "Sorry" she apologises with a small smile as she pulls back "I just really missed you" "Is that right?" you tease with a smirk, "I missed you too". And suddenly, you two are once again enthralled by one another and under the same spell you were before. Now that there was nobody around to stop you, you began to cautiously lean in, being careful to give her enough time to back out. The distance between the two of you gradually decreased as you cocked your head to meet her lips for a hesitant kiss.

As her gentle lips touched yours, butterflies shot through your gut. Even though you were on crutches, you reached up to cup her cheeks and drew her into a kiss as your lips began to move softly against one another. Your spine tingled when Alba's hands slipped around your neck, forcing you to sigh against her lips.

You pull away as you gradually open you eyes, only to be met by her soft brown ones already looking at you. You have no words. All you can do is just admire her. Admire the fact that you just kissed her and she kissed you back. Admire that despite having broken your ankle she was still the only thing on your mind. "We should probably catch up with the others" she suggests with a small chuckle. "Yeah... yeah we should".

You would've taken her hand as you walked to the marathon if it hadn't been for your crutches. Once inside, you were greeted with the bright smiles of your cast mates as you took a seat next to Alba on a couch - with your ankle elevated. It didn't take long for the two of you to get closer, with Alba's head on your chest and your arm wrapped around her shoulders. 'what a day'

#alba baptista #alba baptista request #alba baptista imagine #alba baptista x fem reader #alba baptista x reader #ava silva #ava silva x reader #ava silva x fem reader #warrior nun #renew warrior nun #warrior nun s2 #simp4wom3n #request #fanfic #imagine #warrior nun imagine

176 notes · View notes

charnelhouse · 4 years ago

Text

wild things

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader. Past Will Miller x F!Reader Wordcount: 2.24K Warnings: smut. size kink. dirty talk. rough sex. oral sex. Summary: Post-mission horniness is a thing or the first time you and Frankie fuck. A/N: This takes place in the TF Poly universe. I'd always said you'd banged Frankie and Will before the whole sex pollen incident. I'm gonna have to go back and check this...i literally wrote it before an interview i have because i am SO irresponsible

The mission had been rough. You’re still vibrating with adrenaline - energy coursing through your veins like pungent blood. You feel as if your entire body has been scraped to something raw - a single nerve hanging listlessly in the wind and every minute touch and tremble makes you arch.

The safehouse is a barren place - barely held together with nails and concrete. The ground is hard - bleached wood - and you feel a little lost. You’re trying to press yourself into the foundation of the room - anchor yourself to keep the rest of the world from spinning like a mad top. You remember a toy like that from a birthday - maybe you were seven - and you let it loose so violently that it lifted off the floor and smashed against your bedroom mirror.

Seven years bad luck.

You must have broken a lot of mirrors.

You hear the door crash open followed by a harsh pounding of booted feet. It’s Frankie - breathing raggedly - stumbling into this empty room where you’re spread out on the ground like a corpse or an offering.

“Fucking Hell,” Frankie hisses as he moves toward you. He’s clumsy - collapsing to his knees beside you. His hands are hot on your face - thumb tilting your chin up as those coppery eyes scan you for injury. He’s so much like Will in that regard and it made you miss him. Will had left though - Will had a fiance and what you both did together in the backseat of his car under the choking grip of Texas August would not be repeated.

Still - you missed him and it felt like there was a hole in your belly - gaping and black with loss.

“That was close,” Frankie mumbles as he finally lies down next to you. He doesn’t ask why you’ve decided to go near-comatose in the middle of this creepy room. He doesn’t usually ask a lot. He’s Francisco - the best person to have when you just want to run away and shove it. “You okay?”

“Fine,” you murmur despite the slight tremor that drags beneath your skin.

He sits up on his elbows to glance down at you. His hair is curling at the base of his neck - his skin grime-ridden and slippery with sweat. Pink blooms in his cheeks from running.

Sometimes you forget how gorgeous Frankie is. He’s always hiding beneath the wide brim of his hat. He’s always quietly in the corner - assessing and reassessing - until he says something extremely profound or significant and suddenly his presence unfurls like a hothouse flower.

“You’re cold,” he points out.

“Adrenaline.”

He shifts to his side as he looks at you. Stares. Sometimes the fight leaves you aching - thrumming full of blood and vitality and you have nowhere to put it. Near-death experiences get you wet and you can see it in Frankie’s eyes - the brazen gaze of hunger and longing and need.

There’s not really a conversation - no need for words. You both have always played off each other and yes this is probably a very momentous step in your relationship but who cares? You want him and there’s comfort in the fact that Frankie is Frankie and he’d catch you should the other shoe drop - should your world spin off its axis.

No strings. No caveats.

Just you.

***

He’s already rucking your pants down your legs - awkwardly unlacing your boots. He presses his pouty mouth to the skin revealed to him - sliding his tongue along the sweat that drips. When he forces your knees open, you snap them back together - a little unsure.

He stares up at you. “What is it? Do you want me to stop?”

You chew your lip. “I”m all gross right now.”

His eyes narrow before realization sparks across his face. He huffs. “I want you like this. I want to really taste you.”

Oh.

And then he’s pushing his face between your legs - nosing at the most likely translucent cotton of your panties. He inhales and it makes you jerk out of embarrassment before he uses the flats of his palms to hold your thighs down.

“Let me, princesa,” he drawls. “Let me in - just - just relax. You trust me, yeah?”

You nod - your whole body flaming with arousal at this point. He hitches your underwear to the side before he feasts on your cunt. He runs his tongue through your folds - lapping urgently before he latches his mouth to the crest of your sex and sucks. You whine - bucking into his mouth until he fastens his forearm across your belly.

He’s - he’s fucking good. He makes you soak his chin, your hips rolling against his face as he eats you out with just his tongue.

He adds a finger and then a second - stroking through the channel of your pussy as he hums with contentment at the taste of you. His cheeks are still painted in green camo paint - it’s all messy and smeared and catching in his beard. He’s dripping in sweat and so are you but he must like the musk of it - the dirtiness at you both having killed and then come back here for him to practically drive you headlong into an orgasm. He's eating you - licking hole to clit. You clench at the thought of those calloused trigger fingers massaging your walls - rubbing at the softer tissue behind your bundle of nerves. Your lower muscles tighten and tighten until you feel just like that spinning top you let loose as a child. You’re going to burst - and Frankie is praising you through all of it as his words intermingle with the shameless wet noises his tongue and fingers make through the passage of your sex:

Fuck - baby - i’ve wanted this

You taste so good. Your pussy is so responsive - so fucking pretty - you sweet thing - princesa - preciosa - baby baby baby come for me - come all over my face like a good girl

You do - flood him as he seals his mouth to your flushed - spasming cunt. You practically ride his face as he grasps your hips and pins you to the ground. Your inner thighs shivering around his ears as he carefully tongues you through to the end of it.

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper as your head drops to the floor. Your breath hitching as you try to climb away from your finish but Frankie is nursing you through a second - smaller, kinder, and muffled but still able to make you lurch up and into his chin.

When he raises his head - the entire bottom of his face is glossy with you. There’s green on your thighs and your mound and when he smiles - the white of his teeth gleam bone-bright in the dark.

“Fuck me,” you plead - fully gone and empty. You need him desperately and you’re shaking like a newborn deer - muscles now twitchy and liquid with your cunt begging for him. He peers down at you - spreading the lips of your cleft apart to just fucking watch your hole clutch around nothing.

“Please,” you whine and his eyes snap back to you. He crawls up your body before lowering his mouth to yours. He kisses you possessively - his tongue slick with your own brine as he uses it to explore the cup of your mouth. He parts his lips over yours - drinking you down as you try to work his pants open. He’s rubbing your essence across your jaw and chin - painting you in your own cum and it’s so fuckin erotic that you whimper into his kiss.

When you finally unbutton his pants and release him - you go still. There’s the blunt head of his cock snagging across the mess of your cunt, but you can feel the rest of him. He’s grunting into your ear as he nudges himself through your folds. Ragged, rough sounds climbing out of his throat as he buries you into the floor.

You push at his chest - a quiet sound of protest and he stops immediately.

“Baby?”

You glance down between you and there’s his fucking cock - thick and leaking and extremely large.

“Um - you’re - you’re huge, Frankie,” you remark - gently running your nails across the length of him - it jumps in your hand.

When you look up at him, he seems almost embarrassed. “Yeah - I mean - I don’t know - we - we don’t have to fuck if you don’t want to or -”

“No,” you interrupt. “No - we are definitely fucking. I was just...observing.”

He laughs and it’s warm and lovely in the cold, wet damp of this empty room. Your lives are ruined by so much blood and smoke - cordite and fear and a strange acceptance of death. To hear him laugh with his chest makes you flutter.

You grip his shoulders - pulling him back on top of you.

“I’ll go slow,” he assures - rubbing his cheek against your own. His lips are soft against your ear as you feel him line himself up and then there’s the first breach of him. He pushes inside -inch by careful inch - and your cunt stretches around him. You’re slick but it’s still a lot - not painful but overwhelming. There’s so much pressure and he ruts into you in short, sharp jabs - dragging his cock out to the head before shoving back in.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re tight.”

You’re at a loss - your tongue swollen in your mouth as you gasp and pant and try to accommodate the heft of him. He catches on - understands - and so he tries to distract you - his fingers squeezing your hip as his other hand strokes your clit to make you wetter.

“Feel it,” he demands quietly - brushing his lips over your cheek. “Feel your pretty pussy, baby. Feel how well it’s taking me.”

You slide your hand between you - spreading your fingers into a V and nudging it over the rod of his cock that’s plunging inside you. You can tell how stretched your pussy is - folds parting around the thick of him.

He’s making hot sounds - low, rumbling groans as he begins to quicken his pace. He forces your legs higher over his waist before he plants his forearm beside your head and eases himself back before sinking all the way forward to the hilt.

You can hear your cunt - the wet, squelch of it making room for the even strokes of his cock.

“I think you’re ready,” he announces - almost smug.

“Yeah,” you reply - nearly blind with sex. “Please - Frankie.”

And then he really fucks you.

The floor creaks beneath your back as he spears balls-deep every single time. There’s the harsh pound of his flesh meeting yours and your walls are spasming - convulsing - grasping him as you try to swallow him deeper.

“Look at you,” he praises - his voice hoarse. “Fucking perfect.”

He drops his head to kiss you again - his tongue pressing against your own.

“Such. A. Sweet. Fucking. Pussy,” he snarls with each blunt snap of his hips.

You didn’t know it would be like this. That quiet Frankie with all of his fortitude and reserve would fuck you like an animal. You’re shattering around him - bursting - while he manipulates another climax from your hungry cunt. You squirt all over him - making the passage of his cock all the more loud and obscene.

“Good girl,” he grins - nipping your throat as his ruts grow sloppy. He circles his hips and the length of him fills and pulses - hitting something at the back of you. He’s swelling in the channel of your sex - growing too large and heavy and then he cries out against your mouth and there’s the rush of warmth as he spurts deep enough to make you taste it.

“Frankie,” you sob. “Fuck - I-”

He hushes you - the whole of him trembling as he nearly collapses on top of your body. He bears his weight as well as he can before he tries to ease himself out - his cock twitching as your cunt tries to keep him tangled inside you. He finally falls back on the heels of his feet and there’s the spill of his seed going with it - dribbling between your folds. You sit up to look at him. His pants at his ankles - his shirt gone somewhere with his dark curls boyishly sticking to his brow. His magnificent dick - still swollen and shiny with your spend as it catches in the brown curls at his groin and thighs.

You try to close your legs but he stops you. He forces your knees apart so he can watch your cunt - puffy folds with his cum seeping out of your gaping hole.

“Fuck,” he mutters at the sight of it - expression dazed.

You feel heat burn under your skin and you reach for him - wanting him close - wanting him flush against you. He returns to you - his pants rough on your calves as his belt knocks against your thigh. He scrubs his face against your cheek - nosing at your hairline as he wraps his powerful arms around your waist. He pulls you back to him - blanketing you in the curve of his broad body.

“I could get used to that,” he confesses as he parts his lips over the nape of your neck. “You don’t have to say it back,” he adds quickly.

As if he’d said I love you and maybe he had - in his own way. He did not open himself easily.

You cover the hand on your belly with your own. The flesh ringing hot - the quiet thrum of his heartbeat through the thin skin of his wrist.

“Me too,” you reply - not because it’s kind, but because it’s true.

#frankie morales imagine #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x ofc #francisco catfish morales imagine #triple frontier fanfictions #triple frontier #tf poly vibes #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier fanfiction #will miller #Francisco catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales

1K notes · View notes

twistnet · 3 years ago

Text

public niceties [ carlos oliveira ]

⋯ KINKTOBER PROMPT ; day 02 [ against the wall ]

⋯ WARNINGS ; gn!reader, smut [ fingering, spit used as lube, unprotected sex, slight manhandling, cum ] + mature language

⋯ NOTE ; this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post // masterlist will be blocked

you weren’t quite sure what had caused carlos to snap. it could have been a number of things, such as the world ending just outside the closed of hospital. or maybe, he had finally grown tired of your repeated distrust. even after he had proven himself trustworthy time and time again.

no, you hadn’t taken to him like jill had. still angry that you had to work aside someone who viewed umbrella as a god-send, much less had the nerve to work for them. every little thing he had done to seemingly woo jill, earned him a scoff and eyeball from you.

so, he had done something about it. which is how you had ended up here, face pressed against a wall, pants shoved down your thighs and his fingers working you open, “are you going to play nice now?” he rasped, a pleasing smile rippling across his lips as he continued to finger your tight hole. taking pride in each shiver that tore down your spine when the pads of his fingers would brush against that little spot within you.

the wall did a decent job in muffling your moans, in a way that wouldn’t cause tyrell to come investigating. but he could also tell you were trying your best to keep a small sliver of your dignity. not wanting to let him know just how good he was making you feel.

“imma need an answer from you, stars. otherwise... i stop.” his word accompanied by the slowing movement of his fingers to prove his point further. and just as expected, you blubbered against the wall. crying and begging him to continue, “please! i’ll - fuck - i’ll play nice!” carlos chuckled, watching in amusement as you rocked back against his fingers to get him started, “see? that wasn’t so hard, stars.”

he caught the tail end of your growl, “just fuck me already, carlos.” his hands roughly pushing you back against the concrete wall, a silent and firm order to stay there as he pulled his fingers from your hole.

you whined in protest, getting ready to voice your opinion when you heard the belt of his fatigues open. you turned your head slightly, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but a hand roughly forced your focus back to the wall in front of you.

carlos paid no mind to your angered huff, licking his lips as he used his hands to spread your cheeks open. then he spit, coating your hole and moving his thumb to gently push the wetness around. just to make sure every bit of you was ready. and no, he didn't miss any of the choked moans that left your throat at the action.

he stroked himself with a free hand, guiding himself to your entrance, “you let me know if you need to stop, stars.” he whispered against your ear, waiting a beat as you muttered a small ‘yes’ in confirmation before he pushed into you.

you cried out as he pushed his length into you, feeling a slight yet pleasurable burn as he stretched you open. he slid to a hilt, grunting as he bottomed-out, gritting his teeth as you clenched around him tightly.

he waited a few minutes, letting you adjust to him. watching as you shifted your hips to get use to the feeling. then he felt you tap his thigh, and he slid out, keeping just the tip in before slamming back into your hole. you cried as he set a rough pace, pining you between him and the wall as he pounded into you.

you hands scrambled for purchase, looking for somewhere to anchor down and hold onto. finding that against the tops of his thighs, your nails digging into the cameo fatigues as you attempted to meet his thrusts. it was useless, however, as carlos was controlling the pace and was driving into you backed with the frustration the two of you had been building over the course of the night.

all the build up from the previous act was still lingering in your system, and you were finding yourself tumbling closer to the edge with each thrust of carlos’ hips.

behind you he cursed, panting into your shoulder as he thrust further into you, spilling into you with a grunt as you throbbed around him. his release triggering your own as you moaned, biting deeply at your lip in attempt to contain it.

carlos sagged against you, hot breaths tickling your throat as he came down from his high. he gently pulled out of you, grunting at the loss of your heat, but feeling his chest swell with pride at the sight of his release sliding down your inner thigh.

he offered you a bandana, holding it out for you to take to clean yourself off. you took it, wiping away the cum before pulling your pants back on right and readjusting your gear. tossing away the bandana, you turned to the soldier, clicking your gun into place, “so, stars. ready to continue scouting this place out?”

blog navigation ⇢ [ kinktober masterlist ]

✧ kinktober taglist

@the-purity-pen // @luna-asgard // @shebemyne

#resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagine #re3make #carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira imagine #carlos oliveira smut #gn!reader #twistnet #twistnet works 2021 #twistnet :: kinktober 2021

670 notes · View notes

save-the-spiral · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! Absolutely love your school quiz (I got Life btw which is me to an absolute tee) and I just wanted to know if you'd consider publishing all the results since I'm a curious bean and want to know what the other school results are 😅

(link to quiz) (i recommend others take the quiz because this has spoilers for the answers)

hello anon,

I figured out how to log back into Uquiz because of this ask.

and hooo boy. some stats. first off: I made the quiz 2 years ago. god, i was 19. innocent, a darling, a babe in the woods. uncancelled, free.

Grand Total of quiz takers: 1,326! buncha nerds! many of them are myth wizards, apparently!

Now here are your Answers for the Quiz!

STORM:

“That which can be imagined, can be achieved.”- School Motto, Wizard101

Storm wizards, known as Diviners, are creative and strong willed, though easily distracted at times. They have a tendency to be dramatic, but that makes them even more fun as companions. They are electric, and powerful, and wonderful people. They are diverse in their interests, but all follow the same motto of achievement, of having a concrete object to show their progress as wizards.

ICE:

“… with Persistence, Victory is assured.”- School Motto, Wizard101

Ice wizards, also known as thaumaturges, are intelligent. They can become perfectionists, and can be almost too self sacrificial in their role. They can be unyielding, not changing their ways in this deep need to be right. Their closed off and curt nature leads to an isolation. To melt the walls around an ice wizard's heart, to be let in to those deep emotions and memories, is something rare and to be cherished.

FIRE:

“If the Mind is like a candle, the Heart is like the sun.”- School Motto, Wizard101

Fire wizards, or Pyromancers, are passionate and wild, impulsive. They rush in on instinct as opposed to what logic would dictate. They are, down to their core, good. They are trying their best, even if it means they burn out. Their passion can manifest in a number of ways, many detrimental, but having a network of friends to anchor them can lead to a very powerful leader.

DEATH:

“Timor mortis conturbat me.” (The Fear of Death Confounds Me)- School Motto, Wizard101

Death wizards (necromancers), are morbid and fond of dark humor, as long as it doesn't make light of the tragedy of their school. They have a hard time connecting with other schools of wizards, because of their personality, but also the fundamental understanding of the Spiral that they cannot share.

MYTH:

“To control the Future, one must look to the Past.”-School Motto, Wizard101

Myth wizards, Conjurers, are very control driven. They are imaginative and have a deep investment in history, whether mythological or human, and they try to learn from the past as best they can, because the cyclical nature of time vexes them the most of any school. They can also have visions of the past, present, and future, through many different mediums, but most of all through dreams.

LIFE:

"As we have been Created, so must we Create."-School Motto, Wizard101

Life wizards, Theurgists, are kind people. Their magic derives from the body, keeping themself and others whole. They can be almost parental at times in their protectiveness, though they tend to feel helpless in the face of grave danger, only able to pick up the pieces and heal afterwards. When only around other life wizards, they can become vicious and competitive in their usefulness, a secret hierarchy few outsiders know of.

BALANCE:

“Eye of Newt, and Toe of Frog, Wool of Bat, and Tongue of Dog.”- School Motto, Wizard101

Balance Wizards, Sorcerers, do not draw upon magic in the traditional sense of the other six main schools of Ravenwood. There is no internal or external draw, but from the magic itself, the elements of each school understood in such ways that they may become one whole.The most flexible of the schools, they meditate and try to understand many things other take for granted. This may lead to an almost condescending view of other wizards at times, for they are never willing to understand the balance of the Spiral.

STAR:

“Your path is illuminated by the light Yet darkness lets the stars shine bright.” ~J.L.W. Brooks (School Motto)

Star wizards specialize in auras, enhancing their own magic in order to more effectively defeat their foe. While an accessory school in game, it is believed that they are prone to distraction, fond of glitter, and rather giggly at times. They can be vicious, can fight as well as the next wizard. They will fight until the end, until the last star dies out, and even they will not know when that is, and they will not stop.

SUN:

“The strength of the Sun will show our inherent capacity for truth and transformation.”-School Motto, Wizard101

Sun Wizards are primarily leaders, an excellent figurehead and rallying point for others. Their magic is used to enhance their spells in battle, enchanting or mutating the inherent magic in the spell cards for just one encounter. These wizards do not crumble under pressure as others may, they are strong and inherently hold onto that strength in order to guide and pull their allies through to the other side of a difficult situation.

MOON:

“The moon is a transformation that shows where change is necessary.”-School Motto, Wizard101

Moon Wizards use their magic to polymorph into other creatures or beings, changing their spell deck and statistics mid-battle. They must have a strong sense of self and grasp upon their own identity in order to continue to utilize these magics and remain who they were originally when they polymorph back. They have so many secrets they fear sharing, but when they do it is the ultimate form of their trust, and they bond with friends for life.

SHADOW:

"It is unstable and difficult to control." Wizard101.com on Shadow magic.

Shadow wizards are few and far between. The backlash the magic inflicts upon its wizards is difficult and painful, but a fair way to rebalance the Spiral after using this reality bending, strange magic. Shadow wizards are capable of great things, but in that greatness, there is no indication whether it shall be for the good or the harm of the worlds and peoples of the Spiral.

#ask #anon #anonymous #wizard101 #wizzy101 #wiz101 #w101

29 notes · View notes

nkhrchuwuya · 3 years ago

Text

safety

bungou stray dogs | T | 862 words nakahara chuuya x reader/oc

chuuya catches you in the middle of a panic attack. ⚠ detailed description of an attack

you feel it in your throat first.

closing in on itself like a flower blossoming in reverse. you start to heave, an instinct to desperately try to get air back into your lungs, but there is no use. it takes five seconds for it to finally click.

there’s a clatter as you drop the mug you’re holding. a splatter of the hot coffee against the tiled kitchen floors.

you fall downward soon after.

you don’t even feel the pain of having fallen; the only thing you can feel the throbbing of your heart inside your chest. all you can hear is the sound of your shaky breaths and your heartbeat inside your ears, inside your brain, pounding like loud knocks against a locked door you can’t get out through.

“chu…uya…” you gasp, the last forming word in your mouth before the trembles begin. you curl up into a ball, knees and arms folding into yourself as it becomes hyperclear that the world is finally crumbling in on you, that the walls of the penthouse are going to crash against you, that this is all your fault.

for what seems like eternities, there is nothing. just nothing but your wordless gasping and the certainty of death hanging over your head as you shiver and shake, your brain rushing a million miles a minute trying its best to rescue you, but also ending up sabotaging any of your efforts to calm down. for a moment, it feels good. familiar. like you’ve been here before. there’s a flicker of a memory that it always passes that gives you hope, at least before the fear that this time it won’t starts to take over.

finally, a blur of red through your curtain of tears passes by your eyes, and you feel the tender touch of someone’s hand on your face, cupping your cheeks.

the person—your savior—is saying something, but you do not understand them. none of their words get to your ears. the touch of their skin against yours is so overwhelming, like a blazing fire, that you flinch backward when they try to reach your hand. they let go and all is cold again. freezing almost. you suddenly want to feel them again, but do not know how to ask. you let out a whine.

a soft sound like the shush of a wave. and then the floor falls from underneath you.

except it doesn’t; you’re not falling through the floor, you’re flying above it. your brain makes a desperate attempt to make sense of it but it finds no answers. you go from a place filled with bright white lights to one that is much darker, and when you land it is not on hard concrete floor but on something soft to the touch.

your brain focuses for a moment and you register that you’re on a bed. and that the warm, heavy, fluffy sensation surrounding your shoulders is probably your weighted blanket. clarity erupts slowly, like a fog getting cleared. the bed becomes your bed. the dark place becomes your bedroom.

the red figure kneeling next to you becomes the love of your life.

“easy,” you hear, though staticky, through your still sensitive-ears. his hand is placed on the edge of the bed like an invitation. meekly, you reach out to put your hand over it; he turns it over so he can intertwine your fingers.

it feels like an anchor.

“focus on me,” chuuya says, and you do. “breathe in… and then hold… then let go. just like that, baby, you’re doing so good. one more? breathe in… and then hold… then let go.”

you don’t know how long he guides your breaths, but you figure it’s long enough to have been straining. but he makes no complaints. eventually, after what seems like four, five cycles of the universe being reborn, your head begins to sink back into calm. your skin still feels tingly from everything, but at least your head is in place, and everything is not so loud anymore.

“you there, babe?”

you nod. “sorry, chuuya,” you say instinctively. “thank you.”

“i’m just glad you’re better.” he gets up from the side of the bed to sit next to you. you lean on his shoulder. “ya do feel better, right?”

you hum against his skin, feeling too feeble to talk. you feel him pat your head, and you sigh.

“any cause?”

“…not really.”

“s’that so. well, then i’m just glad it’s over.”

you squeeze his hand, still intertwined in yours.

chuuya once promised you that even if and because he’s part of the port mafia, he will never be afraid of fighting the monsters that haunt you. the ones that have caused you pain, and the ones who haven’t paid for their sins. he’s kept that promise for the entire time you’ve been dating. but most importantly—the monster he fights with the most is the one that rattles your head, and not once has he faltered in dealing with it with a sword’s swing from his own heart.

feeling the touch of his lips against the crown of your head, you bask, in silence, in being safe.

#nakahara chuuya #bungou stray dogs #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #bungou stray dogs imagines #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #💌 chuuya lovemail #genre:comfort #rating:T #timeline:serious #something basic bc i had a panic attack earlier and was praying for chuuya the entire time #SORRY IF U SAWT HIS LAST NIGHT LOL

244 notes · View notes

pixelmensupremacy · 2 years ago

Note

Hi Mai! :D

I must say that I love your writings and the way you write Chris Redfield is so accurate! I used to read quite often if be honest.

I saw that your requests are open (I hope I'm not mistaken) so, can you do something fluff with Platonic Chris Redfield and F! Y/n who is like an old childhood friend of his? By that I mean , y/n was on his side since he first joined United States Air Force and never leaved him?

I just really love this man and want to give him a genuine hug.

Have a great tho!

A/N: Thank you, nonny! This is the best compliment a fan fic writer could receive. Belive it or not I have had doubts if I succeed in properly portraing his character so your words mean a lot to me!

Summary: The request

Word count: 0.5k

Warnings: angsty fluff, fem!reader

Golden rays bounced of the miniature, crystal spheres that just barely laid atop the pint-sized, lime green grass. Delicate breeze weaved through anything, standing in its way, generously gifting the area with fresh air.

Chris relished the sun light, kissing his skin; the warmth gently relaxed all of his muscles and for once he felt as if the built-up stress vanished. The bitterness, nestled in his heart, was replaced by serenity and relaxation weaved in his stiff muscles. He felt at peace.

The familiarity of the place, though as much as it was comforting, lacked important part of its identity, one that truly made it so magical- (Y/N).

With steps so light, (Y/N) had to make her presence known; taking advantage of his state of ease, she placed her hands atop his eyes.

“Guess who’s here?” She said in a lower tone, mimicking the one of a man.

“It never works, but you keep trying anyways, (Y/N).” He gently peeled her hands off his eyes only to meet her sparkling gaze.

“It’s worth a try. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll succeed.” She let out a playful chuckle before seating next to him on a bench, facing the ethereally turquoise, calm waters of the sea; the sound of the wind rustling the leaves and the waves colliding with the concrete bay, composed a serene melody the two of them silently enjoyed.

“I missed this place.” Chris suddenly spoke up.

“I didn’t.” He gave her a puzzled look. “It’s the same as it was yesterday, a year ago and even a decade ago.” She went on, her gaze fell somewhere in the distance. “It’s us that changed, Chris. Nothing is like how it used to be.”

Silence followed as Chris fell deep in thought, searching for the deeper meaning behind his friend’s words. He rested his hand atop of hers, anchoring her attention back on him; the sparkle of her (E/C) irises had dimed even under the dying light of the setting sun.

“But our friendship lasts to this day. Despite the hardships” He let out a deep sigh, the wrinkles on his forehead deepened, creating an illusion of his features darkening “and all of the years we missed out on hanging out. It had not taken a toll on what we have, it only made us stronger.” His voice was low, yet delicate; (Y/N) knew these words flowed right out of his heart and she couldn’t agree more with him.

Before Chris could notice the tears that puckered in the corners of her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing him in for a warm embrace. Instinctively, he reciprocated the hug, granting (Y/N) the sense of comfort she subconsciously desired. Feeling a damp spot on his shoulder, where her face was buried, he gently began rocking the two of them back and forth all the while his hand lightly patted her arm.

“Why things can’t be the way they used to?” Her voice came out in a breathy tremble as tears streamed down her cheeks; the distant memories of their childhood adventures flashed before her eyes.

“We can’t change the past, but we can change the future.” Chris forced a reassuring smile and a promise he knew couldn’t keep; his heart shrunk with sorrow, but for now he wanted to forget about what tomorrow has in store and relish the peacefulness, to dive in melancholy of past ventures, shared with his dearest friend.

#resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #chris redfield x reader #requests

30 notes · View notes

silverstreams · 2 years ago

Photo

closed loop: a doug rattmann oneshot

a short, first person exploration of why doug rattmann chooses to paint

read on fanfiction.net | read on ao3 | or click the readmore

›

There are two things I know to be true:

One: I am alone inside Aperture.

Two: I am not alone inside Aperture.

I am alone because there are no people here, and therefore there is no one else to talk to, save my mind’s projections that animate my cube, that is. (It’s a great conversationalist.) Even if the cube’s voice wasn’t a hallucination and it was a simple companion cube, I would still talk to it. I need something to fill the airwaves besides the merciless march of machinery. Something to remind me I exist. That I am here.

Alive.

Defiant.

Defiantly alive.

Yet I am not alone because she is here. Not with me right now, of course. If that were the case I’d be dead. Luckily, the places I inhabit are places beyond her reach. These locations are few and far between and I guard them fiercely, because her reach is like a flood across a plain—sweeping and seeping—and I can never allow myself to forget that.

She knows that I am out here.

I know that she is out there.

She is weaved so intricately into the scaffolding of Aperture that I fear for every step I take, knowing that each footstep risks a ping to her systems that could ring loud enough to blind me. To survive, I must remain a ghost in her machine—a phantom bit of code that she can never trace into.

I cannot exist.

So, I do not exist.

And if I do not exist, then she is alone, too.

We are both alone. We are both here together. These diametric statements are mutually exclusive, and yet I hold the truth of them in my hand like a magnet. Positive. Negative. All part of the same closed loop.

A loop that neither of us can escape.

I struggle to mentally untangle the ways in which I am entangled with Aperture. This, more often than not, manifests in the paintings I scatter across my sanctuaries like some sort of horrible sneeze—a virus that can’t be eradicated.

I use these paintings to record what is true. Not necessarily what is accurate in a factual sense—that part doesn’t matter. It never matters. The brain is not a camera—it doesn’t care about the truth.

That’s the funny thing about truth: it’s subjective.

Our stories can be molded and edited and reshaped to suit our needs. Much in the way the neuroplastic brain restructures itself, we rearrange the truth until it becomes something we can handle. A distinct narrative. Because that is what we are, after all— one strange story from beginning to end.

I paint to create a rock-solid reference of reality. My brain, try as it does, cannot inject fabricated fears and doubts and events and memories if I have those stories painted in front of me. My brain cannot play with memory like a set of building blocks—removing and stacking and crashing and throwing—if I lock those blocks behind the glass case of a painting.

That is why I paint: not to know the truth, but to take my malleable memory and solidify it into something as solid as concrete.

But, like concrete, paint takes a long time to dry.

Even on the bone-dry panels, it takes tens of thousands of seconds for one coat of one color to dry, and it must dry before I layer on another. And I do layer. I must layer— because truth is not monochrome. It breaks the light of reality like a prism, splitting it into infinite facets of infinite colors. It takes time to capture even a fraction of that projection, but I have nothing if not time.

I can't ignore the possibility of my memories becoming corrupted before I can translate them into art. It happens. It always happens. That is why I started painting in the first place. My murals anchor me in the storm of schizophrenia, giving me a chain to grip when the maelstrom shrieks around me. But, in order to ensure that I paint the correct truth, I do my best to wait for a good day before finalizing any mural designs.

Even on the bad days, though, sketching out ideas allows me to record the reality of that moment—all that I think and all that I feel and all that I believe on that day. On a good day, I can recognize some of those past moments to be factually false, but what I felt was true to me in that moment, and I can still use that alternate reality to fuel my creativity.

Once I confirm my plans, I move into painting, and this does not depend on good days or bad days. My designs act as a blueprint for me to follow, a color-by-number that even I can't mess up. It takes time, yes, but all good things take time.

And, until I am alone no longer, I have nothing but time.

#portal 2 #doug rattmann #portal fanfiction #portal #silvers writing #rolled outta bed a few weeks ago and wrote the first draft of this in my notebook all in one go #the power of a headcanon you like

66 notes · View notes

fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 · 3 years ago

Text

Cursed Love

Okay so I’ve watched No Way Home twice now, and I think I’m finally ready to try and write for Doc Ock for the very first time. It might not be the best, but I plan to give it my best effort! If anyone had any ideas that they would like me to write, feel free to send them in!

Summary: Doc Ock and Y/N are transported to another universe, where Y/N’s curse takes a hold of them. With the help of new and old acquaintances, Doc Ock works to find his significant other

Warnings: No Way Home spoilers, cursing, mentions of blood and an injury, I did change the plot slightly from the movie to fit the story, which isn’t really a warning but I’m putting it here

Peter stood on top of the car. All he wanted was to help MJ and Ned, but something felt off. A rumble could be heard further down the highway, and two metal arms burst through the concrete. As the dust from the destruction started to dissipate, Peter saw a man he didn’t recognize. He was dressed in a black turtle neck and dark green trench coat. The man gave Peter a slight smile.

“Hello Peter.”

The eyes on Peter’s suit narrowed. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“What have you done with my machine?”

“I’m sorry. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The man’s demeanor altered to a more serious one. “So you want to play games?” One metal arm launched towards Peter as he launched himself into the air, his spider suit covering his normal clothes. On the opposite side of the highway, Y/N was stumbling through the stalled cars. It was so strange. One second they were on the ground behind Otto as one of his metal claws clenched around Spider-Man’s throat. Y/N begged Otto to stop the machine, all the while processing the fact that the famed hero in front of them was Peter Parker. Then the next moment they were on a highway.

Y/N ran as they looked for any sign of Otto, and they spotted him throwing a large concrete pillar at someone in a red and yellow suit before following them under the highway bridge. Y/N stopped in their tracks as a pain coursed through their stomach. “Oh no,” they muttered to themselves. It was happening, and Y/N knew they should have kept their stress levels down, but how could they when they were in a new place where they shouldn’t be.

“You’re not Peter Parker,” Otto mumbled in disbelief as he studied Peter, who was pinned to a pillar holding up the bridge. A loud scream of Otto’s name pierced through the air, and Otto recognized it immediately. The piece of nanotechnology that was in Otto’s upper tentacle fused together and moved to the other arms. “Sorry, but my time is needed elsewhere. Thanks for the tech though.”

Otto ascended back to the upper level of the bridge, and his eyes immediately locked on Y/N. He was shocked to see them here too, and he wasn’t certain how they even made it to where they were in the first place. That was a question that would have to be answered another time. Y/N was shaking as talons formed at the tips of their fingers and feathers began to appear. “Please, Otto…help me.”

“It’s alright, my dear,” Otto replied calmly as he took a few measured steps toward Y/N. They let out a snarl as pearl colored fangs appeared from behind their lips. The color in their eyes was replaced with a black abyss. Otto reached into his pocket and pulled out a glass vial filled with a lavender liquid. “I’ve got the elixir you need right here. Everything is going to be okay.”

Suddenly, Otto couldn’t move anymore as his lower appendages anchored themselves into the concrete. No matter how much he tried, Otto couldn’t move an inch, and one tentacle wrapped around his upper body in a flash. The important vial, the last one that Otto had and the one thing that could help Y/N, shattered on the ground.

Y/N was no longer the normal person that Otto had held in his arms so many nights before. Now there was a large creature standing before him, it’s feathers the same color as Y/N’s hair. The beast let out a roar as it spread its wings and reared on its back legs. “Y/N! Please calm down,” Otto pleaded as he tried to free himself.

Y/N ran off back the way they came, their powerful legs crushing the cars beneath them. Otto could only watch as his love ran away from him. Peter was now coming over to Otto’s side. “Ha! Not so powerful now that I’m the one in control. You’re going to listen to me from now on,” Peter stated as he pointed his finger at Otto.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done!” Otto barked at Peter. “The one person I care about has ran off because of you! Now I don’t even have the proper equipment to save them! I swear boy when I get my hands on-,” Both Otto and Peter disappeared from the bridge in a flash of orange light and sparks.

Otto, now locked in one of the magical cells created by Doctor Strange, was even more pissed than before. “Get me the hell out of here right now!”

“That won’t be happening any time soon.”

The sorcerer himself strutted across the stone floor as Peter and Doc Ock looked at him. “For now this cell is the only place you will be. As for you, Peter, you’re not coming back here until you get the rest of these multiverse characters.” Doctor Strange gave a tight-lipped smile as Peter chuckled nervously.

——————————————————————————

Otto never expected to hear silence within his own mind every again, and yet here he was in an apartment hearing nothing but his own thoughts. Peter had already explained how he and the others has made it to his universe, but the multiverse theory was nothing new to Otto. There was only one thing on his mind that concerned him the most. “I can’t thank you enough, Peter, for all you have done for me, but I still need one small favor.”

“Yeah absolutely,” Peter eagerly replied, excited that his first attempt to fix these villains had worked. “Whatever you need, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Can your machine make this for me?” Otto handed over a small slip of paper that described the same elixir that he had on the bridge. “It’s for Y/N. They’re out their some place, and I have to get this to them.”

“That looks like cough syrup to me,” Electro commented as he reclined back in his seat. “Why should you take priority over us?”

Otto scoffed at Elector’s comment, while the others in the room remained quiet. “Because right now Y/N isn’t human. They are currently in their cursed form.”

“Great, even more dudgeon’s and dragons shit.”

Otto turned his focus back to Peter. “Y/N has magic of their own, similar to your wizard I suppose. When they were young, a curse was put upon them, and without this they will remain in a beastly form. I’ve done my best to look out for them, but now I need your help. Y/N means more to me than anything else.”

Peter knew that his focus should be on helping the other villains and returning them to their universes. Then again he knew that if MJ were in a similar situation, he would do anything to help her. “I’m not sure how this will turn out, but I will try my best Mr. Octavius.”

“I’ll help too,” Osborne chimed in. “I remember Y/N very well, and it would be an honor to help you both, Otto.”

Otto grinned as hope returned to him. “Thank you both. Y/N thanks you as well.”

——————————————————————————

The darkness of the forest didn’t concern Otto at all. The only thing on his mind was finding Y/N. Peter stayed behind to help the others, but he wished Otto luck in his search. Otto never needed luck before. All of his scientific skills and achievements came to him naturally, but this was out of his element.

Still, Otto knew that Y/N always ran to a wooded area when they were in their cursed form. Surely it wouldn’t take much to find them. Otto’s fingers brushed over the vial of elixir that was settled in his pocket as he called out into the dark. “Y/N! Are you out here! I promise everything will be okay now!” His words bounced back to him off of the trees that towered around him.

Otto tried to sense any change in the atmosphere as his metal appendages darted around. Nothing. What if someone has found them, Otto questioned as he walked quicker and further into the expanse of woods. Otto couldn’t afford to lose Y/N, and if he did he knew that it would be his fault. Suddenly a loud howl rustled the leaves as Otto whipped around and ran in the direction of the noise. He found Y/N struggling as a bear trap dug further into their wide ankle, crimson blood dripping from the wound.

Y/N let out another pained growl as they tried to claw at the trap, their wings fluttering and smashing the branches above them. Their feathers puffed up in aggravation as Otto quickly approached them. “Y/N stop right now!”

The creature’s head swiveled around, and Y/N barred their fangs at Otto. “It’s okay, my dear. I’m here to help you.” Otto took another cautious step as he reached his hand out in front of him. Y/N’s dark eyes scanned Otto as his familiar scent caught their attention. Otto was finally at Y/N’s side, and his hand scratched behind Y/N’s large ears. A coo escaped Y/N’s throat as they pushed their head against Otto’s warm chest.

“That’s it, Y/N. Now let me get this nasty trap off of you.” Otto moved to examine Y/N’s back leg. The cuts were deeper than he thought, but whatever magic was coursing through Y/N’s veins kept the wound from bleeding excessively. Otto tried to touch the wound, but a large wing shoved him back. Otto nearly landed on his ass if it wasn’t for the aid of his extra arms.

Otto glared at Y/N. “Don’t be stubborn with me. You know I have to take the trap off. Now hold still, please.” Y/N huffed as their head laid down in defeat. Otto’s metal claws gripped both sides of the trap, and with a quick pull Y/N’s leg was free. Not without a loud roar of protest from Y/N, who’s eyes narrowed at Otto. Otto shook his head as he smirked at Y/N. “Don’t be such a baby.”

Y/N tried their best to stand, but Otto pushed them back to the ground. “I think you’ve had enough of an adventure for one day. Now open wide,” Otto removed the vial from his pocket, and Y/N didn’t move as the purple fluid passed their razor sharp teeth. Y/N’s eyes changed from black to their normal shade, and both wings and all the feathers disappeared as well. A few drops of blood fell from the injury that Y/N still had, but Otto tore off a piece of his turtleneck and wrapped it tightly around their ankle.

“You scared me today.” Otto tied one final knot in the makeshift bandage, and his gaze remained on the ground. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you sooner.”

Y/N places their hand on Otto’s cheek, their softness a vast contrast from the clawed feet that were there minutes before. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, love. You came back for me, and that’s all I can ask for.”

Otto helped Y/N up from the ground as his arms, both metal and human, wrapped protectively around Y/N. “It’s good to have you back, my little magician.”

“Hey that’s an insult, I’ll have you know! I’m way better than any magician.” Y/N tensed again as they began to remember that they weren’t where they were meant to be. “Otto, where are we? How do we get home?”

Otto placed a gentle kiss on Y/N’s cheek as his fingers entwined with their’s. “It’s a long story, but I know a very intelligent boy who has all the answers. Come on, let’s get you something to eat, besides shrews that is.”

Y/N playfully slapped Otto’s shoulder with their free hand, a fake anger crossing their features before a smile replaced it. “I don’t eat shrews, but a decent meal sounds like heaven.”

The two made their way out of the woods. Both of them weren’t sure on how they were going to return to their universe, but what mattered was that they were together again. Y/N was Otto’s magical other half, and no curse would prevent him from being by their side.

#doc ock #otto octavius #doctor otto octavius #doc ock x reader #otto octavius x reader #alfred molina #spider man now way home spoilers #spider man no way home #x reader #marvel

244 notes · View notes

the-bau-quinjet · 3 years ago

Text

The Watermelon Song

Summary: Steve likes reader, but thinks she's too young for him. Based on this request!

Warnings: unspecified age gap (reader is ~19/20ish but it's never expressly mentioned), mention of abduction/torture, anxious reader

Word Count: 8100

a/n: ahh, this was pretty fun to right once I figured out how to start it! My heart goes out to those in houston who can't see Harry tonight :/ but it did inspire this fic. Also, the outfit I describe in this fic was inspired by this tik tok!

Masterlist

"Hey Pete! You ask MJ out yet?" You greeted your best friend with a smile, already feeling more at ease in his presence. Some might find it odd that your best friend is years younger than you and in high school, but you don't meet a wide range. And Peter is the perfect best friend.

When Tony found you in an abandoned Hydra base, you were very nearly dead. The agents deemed you unworthy of saving when they made their escape, leaving you chained in a room with no means of escape. If not for the Avengers, you would have died in that room. Or perhaps been forced to help Hydra had they finally been able to control your powers.

You were taken by Hydra when you were 15 years old. They killed your mother in front of you, reducing your living relatives to zero. After a few years of experimenting on you, the scientists were able to mutate your DNA. Although nothing seemed amiss at first, strange things started happening around you.

Anything electronic would experience a sort of power surge in your presence, ranging in power from causing static on a radio to blowing up a microwave. They had moved on to figuring out how to control your powers when they had to abandon the base you were being held in. Since it had been over a year and a half with no progress, they left you behind like trash.

The room you were kept in was lined with six feet of concrete on each side, effectively cutting you off from any source of electricity. Honestly, you considered it a miracle Tony was able to detect your heartbeat when searching the base.

"No," Peter rolled his eyes in your general direction, setting aside the web shooter he was tinkering with. "I'll have you know, I have a plan to ask her out when we're in Italy."

You pouted at his response, not needing the reminder that he was leaving for a few weeks. Since coming to the compound and learning to control your powers, Peter has been your closest, and really only, friend. The two of you bonded over the shared experience of developing powers overnight with no idea of how to control them.

Granted, the circumstances differed. Still, he understood how hard it was to adapt to life as an Avenger. Without Peter, you'd likely still be holed up in your room trying to figure out how to talk to the team in passing. The anxiety and stress you felt in large groups could be overwhelming. Having Peter to anchor you was beyond helpful. The two of you were like the siblings the other never had.

"Who am I supposed to hang out with if you're not here." You practically whined, falling into the chair behind you.

"You could, hear me out, talk to Steve?" Peter's eyes twinkled with mischief, his laughter audible when you abruptly looked around the room.

"How dare you call me out in such a public place." You murmured, sitting back down after confirming the room was empty. "And you know why I can't do that."

Steve was... intimidating to you. Not in a bad way, more like a he's-so-perfect-I-can't-talk-to-him-or-I'll-die type of way. You never failed to be a stuttering mess when he was in the room, even if he wasn't part of the conversation. Not that you were extremely sociable in the first place. You'd always been a shy and reserved person, and Hydra didn't help with that. The only person you actually had conversations with outside of missions is Peter.

"You always push me to talk to MJ, I'm just returning the favor." He shrugged, finally sitting down next to you. "I'll be gone for three weeks, it's the perfect time for you to branch out."

You rolled your eyes again, knowing he was right but not liking what you were hearing. It was true, he only bugged you about Steve as much as you bugged him about MJ. Plus, you really couldn't hide in your room the entire time he was in Italy. That would be too sad, even for you.

"Fine. I'll try to branch out... but just a little bit!" You could already see how proud he was of you for even promising to try. "But I'm not making a move on Steve... yet." You relented, knowing he'd likely eventually talk you into it... years down the line.

"That's all I ask." Peter smiled. "Plus, as soon as I get back we'll go to that concert together." That put a smile on your face, just as Peter intended. One of your biggest comforts after leaving Hydra quickly became music. Whether it be musicals, country, pop, or something else, you always turn to music to help escape. You've been looking forward to Harry Styles Love on Tour for over a year.

"Let's go make the most of your last night stateside." You joked, pulling him from the lab. The two of you ended up in the theater Tony had built for movie nights, watching Peter's favorite Star Wars. It was always an activity you enjoyed because Peter looked so happy every time he watched it, no matter how recently he'd seen it. There wasn't a more perfect activity for a send off event.

Naturally, the two of you fell asleep three movies in, leading to Peter rushing out in the morning to make it to his flight. It was a very on brand goodbye for Peter, always rushing from one thing to another.

Either way, he left you to your own devices in the kitchen, unsure of how to make good on your promise to try to branch out. Thankfully, an opportunity presented itself fairly quickly.

Wanda and Natasha came into the kitchen while you were still eating breakfast. The two had clearly just finished a workout and were laughing together as they started making smoothies.

"Hey, Y/N! Nat and I are going into the city for some shopping after this. Do you want to come?" Wanda extended the invitation, hopeful that you'd want to join them. With Peter gone, the entire team decided to make sure you knew they were there for you to talk to.

"Um, ye-yes. I'll come." You hesitantly answered, knowing Peter would be a proud little brother if he could see you now. "I'll just go get dressed." You quickly cleaned up from breakfast, bumping into a solid mass of muscle on your way out of the room. Two strong hands keeping you from falling over. "Sorry, I didn't see- oh, Steve?" Your eyes went wide when you realized just who you bumped into.

"Y/N, hi." Steve stopped in the doorway, hands releasing your shoulders once he was sure you were stable. He suddenly cleared his throat, one hand moving to rub the back of his neck. The two of you were just looking at each other when Nat spoke up.

"Good morning, Steve. Enjoy your run?" She smirked, eyes sparkling with a secret when the two of you break eye contact to look at her.

"What? Oh, um, yes. Same as always." Steve moved to his right, trying to get around you. Unfortunately, you moved to your left, effectively blocking his path. You both laughed, moving the opposite direction only to once again block each other's way. Finally, Steve put his hand on your shoulder, urging you to move to your right while he stepped to his own right.

"There we go." Steve smiled, his cheeks dusted with red. You could feel the heat in your own face, causing you to mutter your thanks before running to your room. Steve watched you go, turning back to the two women in the kitchen once you were out of sight.

"Y/N, hi." Wanda imitated the lower timber of Steve's voice, making lovey dovey eyes at Nat.

"Steeeve." Nat replied, her voice mocking your own, drawing out the syllable of Steve's name and returning Wanda's lovey dovey eyes.

"Oh, leave it alone, would you?" Steve grumbled, forcefully pulling bags of frozen fruit from the freezer. He added everything to the blender as quickly as possible, turning it on to drown out their teasing remarks.

"Just ask her out!" Nat shouted over the noise, grinning ear to ear when Steve's cheeks turned even redder. Steve turned the blender up, looking nowhere but at the spinning fruit.

The second the noise stopped, Wanda was ready with more ribbing. "She would definitely say yes!" Just then, Sam and Bucky joined the group in the kitchen.

"Who, Y/N?" Bucky questioned, trying to come to speed with the conversation.

"Say yes to Steve?" Sam eyed them, his grin growing. "Of course she would if he wasn't too chicken shit to make a move."

Steve rolled his eyes while pouring his smoothie into a travel cup. All it took was one night with Thor's Asgardian mead, and the team managed to coax him into confessing his feelings for you.

"I regret meeting all of you." Steve muttered, no real mirth in his words. The team laughed, calling more taunts as he quickly escaped to the elevator.

You were quiet on the way to the city, replaying the miniscule conversation you had with Steve in the kitchen. You barely said a handful of words to him, but it was enough to feel that familiar pit of nerves in your stomach. After visiting a few different stores, the three of you stopped for lunch.

"So, Y/N... what do you think of Steve?" Wanda questioned you, drawing you out of your own thoughts. It took a second for you to register the words, but you could feel the heat returning to your face once you understood the question.

"Not you too." You muttered, unfortunately loud enough for the two women to hear.

"Too?" Nat smirked, glad to have caught your comment.

"Ugh, Peter won't leave me alone about it! Although, it's fair because I bug him about MJ too." You rolled your eyes at the mention of your antics with Peter, something the rest of the team didn't know the details of.

"Peter Parker... teases you about your crush on Steve?" Nat quirked an eyebrow, curious as to how she was unaware of something like that.

"Yeah, but I told him I wasn't gonna do anything about it yet. So, he expects nothing from me but to actually talk to somebody else on the team, which I'm doing." You mumbled, not realizing just how much you were giving away. Without any response, you continued talking to fill the slightly awkward silence.

Nat and Wanda watched as you gushed about your friendship with Peter and your feelings for Steve, confirming what they already suspected. You talked through the entire of lunch, answering any questions they threw in.

You didn't even realize how much you had been speaking until the two of them had finished eating and you barely started. They brushed off your apologies, convincing you to eat while they took turns telling you different stories and information about themselves.

After lunch, you went shopping again. You hadn't bought anything earlier, and both Nat and Wanda were eager to talk you into getting some new clothes.

"What about this?" Nat held up a yellow sweater with a bow on the back, but it's not really your style. You offered her a smile, explaining how you don't need any new clothes. It does little to deter the two women from asking your opinion on anything they think you might like.

Finally, Wanda holds up a pink, plaid oversized blazer. A matching skirt was hanging next to her on the display. Your response died in your throat, head tilting while you look at the set. Before you could respond, Nat came up with a pair of shoes and a black corset top type thing. The neckline of the top was covered in lace, and the shoes match the color of the plaid on the blazer.

"I can wear this to the concert!" You excitedly whispered to yourself, unaware of the smiles on Wanda and Nat's faces. They were just glad to have found something for you.

After buying the clothes, the three of you head back to the compound. You were so exhausted after a full day of shopping, you went to your room and slept, completely missing dinner.

You woke up around 5, stomach grumbling and throat dry. After you climbed out of bed, you realized you were still wearing your clothes from yesterday, so you quickly changed into pajamas before heading to the kitchen for a snack and water.

Upon entering the kitchen, you spotted none other than one Steve Rogers, dressed for his morning run. You froze in the doorway momentarily, but before you could turn around he spotted you. He smiled in greeting, his hands preoccupied with filling his water bottle.

You smiled in return as you moved further into the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets in search of a snack. The two of you moved around each other awkwardly, both wanting to say something but unable to find the words.

He was closing his water bottle when you sat down with your snack, a packet of pop tarts you found in the back of the pantry. It wasn't even in the box, so the flavor was a mystery.

"Any guesses?" You asked, gesturing to the silver foil packet. When he raised his eyebrow in question, you spoke up again. "The flavor... I'm thinking s'mores." Guessing mystery flavors or things in the kitchen was one of yours and Peter's favorite games to pass the time between meetings.

He smirked in response, instantly confident he knew who bought the poptarts, and in turn what flavor they would be. "Brown sugar cinnamon."

"You sound pretty sure." You narrowed your eyes at him, questioning his confidence.

"Considering Tony and Sam are the only two childish enough to actually buy pop tarts, and Sam would never be careless enough to lose a packet, it's more than likely Tony bought that poptart. He only likes two flavors, and one of them was discontinued years ago, so let's hope it's not that one. That leaves brown sugar cinnamon." Steve grinned, proud to show off his deductive reasoning.

"Damn, Detective Rogers. I only guessed s'mores because it's definitely the best flavor, and I was hopeful." You both laughed, grinning at each other for slightly longer than what would be deemed normal.

Two pairs of eager eyes watched as you tore open the foil, laughter only growing when you revealed two pop tarts covered in white icing and red and green sprinkles. Strawberry.

"We're both losers today, Steve." You giggled, already breaking the edges of the pastry off to eat first. He smiled in return, picking up his water bottle and moving toward the door.

"You're right about that. I'll see you later?" He questioned from doorway.

"Yeah," you nodded. "I'll see you later." Watching as he moved down the hallway, you called one more thing to him. "Enjoy your run!"

Your smile lingered as you finished eating. It lingered when you changed for training. It even lingered when Nat knocked you down over and over in your hand to hand practice. In fact, it lingered until you fell asleep, replaying the little laughs over and over as you started dreaming.

It may have been one conversation- and a very short one at that- but it was a full conversation you made it through without the nerves taking over, and that was a reason to smile.

Your days began to follow a similar pattern. You'd go to training, spend time with Nat and Wanda, and occasionally talk to Steve. Your conversations even grew to be longer than 5 minutes. You didn't mind the repetition. In fact, it was comfortable, especially because your previous routine of annoying Peter had been disrupted.

You'd grown so accustomed to this new normal, that Tony's proclamation for a team movie night caught you completely off guard. Even Peter had never been able to convince you to join in on an event with the entire team, and he tried. A lot.

But, you'd never been invited by Tony in front of everyone before either. It would have been so much worse to announce to everyone that you were too anxious to spend a night with them.

"Sounds like fun!" You faked your enthusiasm, trying to appease the billionaire in front of you.

"Yes! I knew you'd come around. I'm that good." Tony continued mumbling about his achievement as you excused yourself. You were already overthinking everything that you could do to embarrass yourself, and needed an outlet for all of your nervous energy.

While you slipped out of the room, already cataloguing everything you could clean or reorganize in your room by the time you made it to the elevator, Nat and Wanda were already conspiring with Bucky and Sam to sit you and Steve next to each other during the movie.

"Whatever your planning, I want no part in it." Steve eyed the group suspiciously, observant enough to notice their conspiring.

"We were just discussing snack options for during the movie." Wanda shrugged, a mischievous smile showing through her casual facade. Steve watched on with suspicion as the group dispersed, leaving him with a slightly uneasy feeling.

You spent the rest of the day in your room trying to forget about the movie night. It wouldn't be so bad if you had spent any amount of time with Bruce, Thor, Clint, Scott, Tony, Bucky, and Sam outside of missions.

Of course, you trust them with your life and hope they feel the same when you're fighting the evils of the world together, but you've never spent time with them like you have Peter, Nat, and Wanda. You hadn't even had one on one conversations with them like you had with Steve.

Even worse, you know it's your own fault that you haven't spent time with them. You've seen Bruce and Tony in the lab, offering a wave when you pass through. Thor and Scott have always offered to include you in their antics. The same goes for Sam and Bucky. Nat even offered for you to come visit Clint and his family with her.

You've just haven't completely adapted to your new life as part of the Avengers. Training wise, everything was going swimmingly, but socially? Up until a two and a half weeks ago, you only ever talked to Peter! It's been challenging trying to figure out who you are after everything Hydra did to you.

In your efforts to forget your social anxiety, you reorganized your closet and desk, washed your sheets, remade your bed, and vacuumed the floor all before noon. Then you dusted every available surface you could find.

Once your room was done, you moved on to the hallways, then the kitchen, then the living room. By the time you were done, every residential part of the building you could access was spotless. You were just putting away your cleaning supplies when Friday announced it was time for the movie.

You glanced at the clock, realizing it was in fact 8 pm and you hadn't stopped cleaning for lunch, let alone dinner. You took a few deep breaths to steel your nerves, trying to prepare yourself for interacting with nearly the entire team at once.

When you finally made it down to the theater room, everyone but Steve was already there. You didn't even have time to think about how strange it was for Steve to be late with how quickly Nat was dragging you over to the only open couch to sit with her. She sat against the armrest, pulling you down into the middle to sit beside her.

She started pestering you about where you'd been all day, but rolled her eyes and stopped when Tony clapped for everyone's attention.

"Friday held a vote earlier, and of those who answered," Tony glared at you- you must not have noticed Friday's question in the middle of your cleaning- "Hush won out."

You hadn't heard of the movie, but when you opened your mouth to ask about it, Tony cut you off.

"No objections from people who didn't vote. Nat, will you help Sam with the popcorn?" His smirk had you on edge, but once again he gave no room for questions.

Just as Tony was asking Friday to open Netflix, Steve came jogging into the room. He quickly surveyed for an open seat, finding the only empty spot being the one next to you. He shuffled further into the room with a sheepish smile, feeling bad for interrupting even though the movie hadn't actually started.

"Did I miss anything?" He whispered, leaning closer to you to keep the volume down. You felt the familiar nerves in your stomach, but managed to whisper back an answer.

"We're watching Hush? I guess there was a vote..." You shrugged, not knowing anything about the movie or the vote.

"Dang, I voted for Little Women." He mumbled. "I've never been a fan of the jump scares in horror movies. They've always felt tacky."

You felt the heat drain from your face at his words. Even the typical blush from just being around Steve couldn't overpower the anxiety you felt at having to watch a horror movie with the team. You don't mind horror films per say, but you normally watched them in the comfort of your own room with Peter there for you to hide behind.

Steve could tell something was wrong by the way your whole body tensed and your eyes widened. "Are you okay?" He whispered, leaning even closer in an attempt to calm you.

"Fine. I'm fine. Totally fine. Everything is a-o-k. Peachy keen." You gave him a strained smile, swallowing the nerves you could feel building. One look at the disbelieving look on his face had you spilling your guts during the opening sequence of the film.

"I just normally watch horror movies with Peter. And he lets me hide behind him during the scary parts." You hid your face in your hands, embarrassed to admit to being easily scared during movies. Steve slowly reached for your hands, leaning down so he could look into your eyes.

"I won't tell anyone. And, you... you can hide behind me. If you want!" He nervously mumbled, eyes downcast after he said it. You squeezed his hand that still held your own, smiling and mouthing thank you as the movie started.

Oddly enough, Nat never returned to sitting on the couch with you. After she and Sam came back with bowls of popcorn, the two of them sat on a sectional in the back with Bucky, Wanda, and Vision.

The movie definitely wasn't the scarier than the scariest one Peter had watched with you, but in combination with your stress of being in such a large group, it got to you. Halfway through the movie you were practically glued to Steve's side.

You held tightly to his arm, lifting it up to shield your face when you wanted to hide from the screen. Occasionally you'd jump, burying your face between Steve's shoulder and the couch. He smiled each time you squeezed his bicep, fighting between enjoying having you so close and feeling guilty that you were so scared.

Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Wanda were all grinning as they watched the two of you get closer and closer throughout the movie. The four of them couldn't even explain the most basic premise of the film if they combined the parts they'd individually paid attention to. The group was so focused on you and Steve, they were surprised to see the lights turning back on.

They managed to pretend to be cleaning up the bowls of popcorn and straightening the pillows when you and Steve walked past them.

"i'll walk you to your room?" Steve offered, eager to talk to you even if just for a few minutes.

"Oh, um, thanks." You blushed, smiling at the ground. "And thank you for uh, everything during the movie. I completely understand it's a fictional story, but the idea of a masked man tormenting me in the woods freaks me out." You laughed at your own antics.

Steve smiled, nodding along to your explanation. "That's completely fair."

You just smiled, slightly bumping Steve with your shoulder because you couldn't find the words to convey how happy you were in the moment. You made it to your door much faster than you would've liked.

"This is where I say goodnight." Steve grinned, for once maybe believing you could have feelings for him.

"Oh, goodnight." You bit your lip, nervous about what you actually wanted to say. Just before he turned to leave, you called out, "Steve?"

He hummed in response, having a hard time focusing when you pulled your bottom lip into your mouth and released it.

"Will you stay?" His eyes widened and his mouth fell open, causing your nerves to skyrocket. "Nevermind! I shouldn't of- just pretend like I didn't say that. I'll see you tomorrow, goodnight!" You quickly ran into your room, practically slamming the door to avoid having to face any more embarrassment.

You forced yourself to get ready for bed as quickly as possible, hoping with sleep you'd be able to escape the look of shock on Steve's face. Luckily for you, the embarrassment outweighed any lingering fear you felt from the movie. Unluckily, the embarrassment still prevented you from sleeping. Instead you stared at the ceiling, coming up with a plan for avoiding your problems tomorrow.

Steve tried knocking. Hell, he tried opening the door but it was locked. He could've kicked himself for messing that up. An entire night sleeping in bed with you sounded like a dream come true, he just wasn't expecting the question. Eventually, he gave up trying to get you to speak to him and made his way back to his room.

Unfortunately for him, the night didn't end there. When he walked through the door, two of his best friends were waiting for him.

"Where have you been?" Bucky smirked, clearly knowing the answer.

Steve sighed, ignoring Bucky and Sam in favor of changing into pajamas. When he emerged from the bathroom, the two men were still staring at him expectantly.

"C'mon, man! We saw you two during the movie." Sam grinned, He was genuinely happy for Steve, but he wouldn't pass up the opportunity for a bit of light teasing. Much to his chagrin, Steve couldn't stop the blush he felt heating his face.

"I knew it! Did you tell her how you feel? Did you kiss her? Did she kiss you? Did-" Bucky abruptly stopped his line of questioning when he actually looked at Steve. "You didn't. Did you? What happened?" He practically whined.

Steve sighed again. He definitely didn't have the energy for this right now. "She just said something that surprised me and then panicked when I didn't respond. I'll talk to her tomorrow. Now please leave."

Steve ushered them out of the room, ignoring any and all advice they threw his way. Once he was alone, he finished getting ready for bed, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to fall asleep. Instead, he stared at the ceiling practicing what he would say to you tomorrow.

After spending nearly the entire night thinking about how to confess his feelings, Steve decided to make you breakfast. The only problem was that he didn't know what you liked. He'd never seen you making breakfast since he was always on a run when you ate.

Since Peter wasn't even in the country, Nat and Wanda were his best bet to find out what you'd like. Unfortunately, the two of them were nowhere to be found. They weren't in their rooms, the gym, the kitchen, or any of the living rooms. Friday must have taken pity on him because she abruptly asked, "Would you like helping finding someone, Captain Rogers?"

Steve cursed himself for forgetting about the AI, and quickly responded. "Please! Where are Natasha and Wanda?"

"Agent Romanoff and Ms. Maximoff left the compound early this morning with Ms. L/N. It is currently unknown when they will return."

"Oh, uh, thank you, Friday." Steve mumbled. He was confused as to what would cause you to leave early on a day with no scheduled training or missions. Normally, you and Peter slept in as late as you could manage.

Since making you breakfast would now be useless, Steve spent the day how he would any other time he had emotions he couldn't express- running an excessive amount and breaking a few punching bags.

Meanwhile, you were in full panic mode. You waited as long as you could manage in your room, but the second you saw any sign of sunlight you were getting dressed. Once you were ready for the day, you sought out Nat and Wanda to go with you back to the city. Luckily, they were both awake, although just barely.

"Where are we going?" Nat eyed you curiously, trying to figure out what happened last night without asking.

"And why so early? Wanda yawned while she brushed her hair.

You fidgeted your hands, feeling guilty for bothering them on everyone's day off. "I'm sorry! I was just really excited for the concert in a few days, and I realized I don't have any accessories to wear." You recited the cover story you came up with knowing they wouldn't believe you, but hoping they'd let it go for now. Fortunately they did, accompanying you to the city as long as you could stop for coffee on the way.

About ten minutes after they had their caffeine in hand, Nat and Wanda started questioning your story.

"I thought you already had the jewelry you wanted to wear to the concert?" Nat casually started the conversation. Wanda hummed in agreement, turning to look at you from the passenger seat.

"Yeah, but I wanted to get something different." You offered as an excuse.

"And this has nothing to do with a certain blonde haired super soldier?" Nat smirked.

"No..." You tried, but you knew it was of no use. One disbelieving look from Wanda and you told them everything that happened last night.

"...and now I have to avoid him for the next few days until Peter comes home and gives me an excuse to never talk to him again." You huffed, dramatically leaning back into your seat with your eyes closed to avoid their sympathetic looks.

"Y/N, I really think if you just talk to him this could all be figured out." Wanda tried to change your mind, but to no avail.

"Wanda, you didn't see the look on his face." You whined. "He looked like he'd rather jump out of a plane sans parachute than spend another second in my presence."

"In his defense, he doesn't need any encouragement to jump out of a plane without a parachute." Nat supplied, trying to lighten the mood.

"What?!" Your eyebrows shot up, face scrunched in confusion.

"A story for another time." Wanda glared at Nat. "Seriously, you should just talk to him."

"I'll think about it." You were definitely not going to think about it. "Can we just forget about it for now?"

Nat and Wanda agreed, moving on to talking about what jewelry you could match with your outfit for Harry's concert.

You managed to spend well into the evening, in the city. It made avoiding Steve much easier than you initially anticipated. Once back at the compound, you had the excuse of putting your newly acquired accessories in your room to escape for the night. Since you had eaten dinner before coming home, you had no reason to leave your room again.

Steve came and knocked on the door, but you just pretended to be asleep to avoid the conversation. A part of you felt guilty with how upset he sounded, but it was still too embarrassing to even think about opening the door.

The next morning, you enlisted Friday's help to avoid running into Steve in the compound. Whenever he was seemingly on his way to your location, Friday would warn you, giving you a chance to escape unnoticed.

It worked so well, the only time you saw him was during team training. With so many people around, he didn't want to bring up the conversation you had that night. Luckily for you, Tony had some questions for him after the workouts ended, giving you a chance to escape yet again.

You kept up this pattern for the next two days, managing to avoid Steve at all costs. Nat and Wanda tried pressing you to talk to him, but you couldn't handle the heartbreak that would come with the inevitable rejection. If you didn't talk to him, you could still hold out hope, no matter how flawed that concept seemed.

The only thing keeping you sane through the incredibly paranoing few days was Peter coming home and going to the concert. You were so excited to see your best friend again, that you could barely sleep the night before he was due to return.

You woke up in such a good mood that it changed your perspective on everything that had happened. Maybe talking to Steve was better than pretending nothing happened. It would do wonders for your blood pressure after all. It was decided. You would actually talk to Steve- after the concert of course.

However, your good mood lasted all of three minutes. When you checked your phone to make sure you still had time before you had to leave for the airport, you saw a text from Peter. His flight was cancelled due to the impending storm due to hit New York.

Unfortunately, because of the weather, he couldn't find another flight back until the next day, meaning he wouldn't make it back for the concert. Of course you understood he had no control over the weather, but it still ruined your excitement for the day.

You texted him back something about it being okay and how you were sad to have to wait another day before seeing him, then face planted back onto your bed. You stayed in that position until your phone dinged again, signalling a new instagram notification.

Harry Styles posted to their story

You clicked on the banner, sighing when the news matched what you expected. Unfortunately, because of the impending storm, it wasn't safe to have the concert tonight.

The two things keeping you sane for the past few days weren't going to happen. You sighed, ultimately deciding to check your email and figure out what was going to happen with your tickets. Hopefully the show would be rescheduled and you would still be able to go.

You flopped back onto your bed, no longer excited to start the day. Maybe you just needed to take a nap and start over with new expectations. So that's exactly what you did.

When you woke up again, it was nearly 1 pm. If you had been able to pick Peter up, the two of you would have been on your way back to the compound to get ready for the show by now. So, that's what you decided to do. Yeah, you wouldn't be going anywhere, but you could still dress up.

You jumped out of bed with slightly more energy than before, excited to do something other than wallow.

"Friday, can you shuffle Harry Styles please?" You smiled when she immediately started shuffling his two studio albums. "Thank you!"

You took your time in the shower, enjoying the hot water on your aching muscles. Avoiding Steve has made you so tense.

After your shower, you went through the steps of your hair routine. You originally planned something to keep your hair off your neck, but since you weren't actually going anywhere, you styled it in a more relaxed look.

Then you did your makeup. It took awhile for you to achieve the look you wanted, but eventually you had two nearly identical cat eyes with a soft pink glam look. You went for a bright, almost red, liquid lipstick to really have fun with it.

By the time you were getting dressed, you had already listened through both albums twice. The repetition didn't bother you though. In fact, listening to all of your favorite songs over and over put you in a better mood. You danced around your room, practically screaming along to Canyon Moon and Only Angel.

You were especially having fun when you were adding the final touches to your outfit and Kiwi started playing. Your jumping around made it more difficult to clasp the necklace, but at this point you were having too much fun to be bothered by something so trivial.

You only stopped dancing when you wanted to take a picture to send to Peter. Hopefully he was doing something fun with his friends while stuck in Italy for another night. You smiled in the picture, genuinely happy with how the day ended up after such a pitiful start.

After sending the snap, you realized just how hungry and thirsty you were. Getting ready while dancing is a lot of work! So, you slipped off your shoes, not actually needing them in the compound, and made your way to the kitchen.

Friday paused the music in your room, starting it up again in the kitchen when you arrived to an empty room. You smiled to yourself, bobbing your head to the music as you looked for a recipe. Deciding to treat yourself to a home cooked meal instead of a bag of chips, you searched through the pantry for every ingredient you'd need to make your grandma's mac and cheese.

It wasn't a fancy recipe by any means, but it has never failed to cheer you up. You got to work boiling the pasta and cutting up the ham and slices of american cheese. It only took about 20 minutes to get it in the oven to bake.

You sat on a stool by the island, mindlessly scrolling through social media while you waited for the timer to be done. You were so caught up in reading some random article, you didn't notice when Steve came into the kitchen.

He froze when he saw you. He hadn't even been looking for you this time, so he was caught off guard to actually see you after three days of you avoiding him so efficiently. He was just about to say something when the timer went off.

Instead, he watched as you excitedly ran to the oven and removed the dish. You carefully removed the aluminum foil from the casserole pan, stirring the melted cheese into the pasta before spooning some into a bowl to eat. You nearly dropped it when you turned around and saw Steve staring at you.

"Ahh! Steve! Don't sneak up on people!" You laughed. "Do you want some mac and cheese?" You grinned, reaching for another bowl without his response. Steve was shocked. He expected you to run the second you saw him, not offer him some of your food.

Once you had two bowls of mac and cheese, you sat them next to each other on the island, gesturing for Steve to join you. He did so slowly, still unsure as to what caused your change of heart.

"Did you do something special today?" He questioned, vaguely gesturing to your outfit and makeup.

"Nope." You smiled at him, spooning more food into your mouth to cheer you up.

"Oh, well you look beautiful." He sounded so sincere, you nearly choked on your food. After you managed to swallow the food in your mouth, you replied.

"Thank you." You sighed, figuring you should explain the outfit. It did seem a bit dramatic for eating dinner in the compound kitchen by yourself. "I was supposed to go see Harry Styles tonight, but with the storm it ended up not happening."

"Harry Styles?" He scrunched his eyebrow, trying to place the name. He knew he'd heard it before, usually coming from you. "Is he your boyfriend?"

You audibly laughed, dropping your spoon into your mac and cheese to avoid spilling any. Steve watched with a confused expression, not understanding why his question was so funny.

"If only." You sighed dreamily. "Harry Styles is a singer. Peter and I were supposed to go see his concert tonight but it was cancelled because of the unsafe conditions. Pete's flight was also cancelled. I decided to get ready for the show anyway to cheer myself up." You shrugged, feeling a little weird for being so upset about a concert.

"Oh, right! Harry Styles! He sings the watermelon song?" Steve asked, making sure he had the right singer.

"Watermelon Sugar, yeah." You chuckled, feeling even happier in Steve's presence.

"Well, you really do look amazing. Maybe Harry would've seen you and asked you out." Steve tried his hand at cheering you up even more, but the words tasted bitter in his mouth.

"Doubtful. You know how many incredibly beautiful people go to his shows? So many. Besides, I may have a crush on Harry Styles but it's just a celebrity thing." When Steve raised his eyebrows in confusion, you tried to explain it better. "I mean, I'd say yes if he asked me out, don't get me wrong. I'm just not delusional enough to expect that to happen. Besides, he's not who I have actual feelings for, ya know?" You froze, realizing what you just said and who you said it to.

"Well, he'd be lucky to date someone as incredible as you." Steve's words made the butterflies erupt in your stomach again. "Who, um, who do you have feelings for? Peter?"

Again, you laughed. "No! Pete's my best friend. He's like the brother I never had."

"Oh, so who?" He pressed the question, needing to know if he you felt the same.

"Steve..." You sighed, not wanting to return to the embarrassment of a few days ago. "I don't think-"

"Please?" He whispered, turning his stool to face you. "Y/N, I can't go back to you avoiding me."

"I'm sorry. I, I never should have said anything. I just, I thought maybe you felt the same and then you looked so horrified... I won't avoid you again, okay? I might, um, I might need a few days though. Just to figure out how to act like I'm not in love with you now that I know you know I am." You got up, deciding to clean up from dinner while you spoke to distract yourself from the tears you could feel burning in your eyes.

"Y/N-" Steve tried to respond, but you cut him off.

"Really, it's okay. I get it. You probably think I'm too young or whatever. It's fine. I can't fault you for not feeling the same."

"Y/N, really I-"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Steve. I get it. I'll be fine. I promise."

"I love you too!" He didn't yell, but his words still felt like they echoed in your mind.

"You... you love me?" You whispered. You were frozen in pace, one hand holding the dish of pasta while the other held the spoon you were using to move it to the tupperware.

"I do." He answered, now moving round the island to stand next to you. He gripped your wrist, first removing the spoon from your hand and then placing the casserole dish back onto the counter. "I love you so much, and when you asked me to stay with you the other night I panicked because I didn't think you meant it in the way I wanted you too.

I thought you were scared from the movie and just wanted someone to reassure you. I knew if I stayed in that bed, I'd end up telling you how I felt and I was terrified you wouldn't feel the same. I mean, you're incredible. I thought you would want someone closer to your age. Someone who wasn't frozen for seventy years." He lamented, admitting his own insecurities.

"Steve, I don't care that you were born before my grandparents... and maybe even their parents." You joked, smiling when he let out a small chuckle. "And I don't want to date anyone else. I want to date you."

"I want to date you too." Steve moved his hands to your waist.

"Does this count as our first date?" You grinned. "I mean, I dressed up and we ate dinner together. I feel like it could count."

"Do you want it to count?" He questioned, his own smile matching yours. You nodded in response. "Why?"

"Because, if we just had our first date it means you can kiss me now because we've finished dinner." You smirked, enjoying the faint blush on his cheeks. Thankfully, he felt the same.

He kissed you with all of the pent up feeling he'd been hiding for months, and you returned the kiss with equal fervor. You were so caught up in each other, you both failed to notice as other team members entered the kitchen.

"About time, punk." Bucky interrupted the moment, grinning at the two of you like the Cheshire cat.

"I for sure thought you'd figure it out after the movie." Sam added, ignoring Steve's pointed glare.

"We really set them up for success." Wanda sighed, moving further into the kitchen to investigate the source of the delicious cheesy smell. Noticing her attention on the mac and cheese, you quickly provided a diversion.

"I made mac and cheese! You are all welcome to have some." You shoved the dish toward them, Steve supplying bowls while you grabbed more spoons. While they were distracted, you tried to slip out of the room.

"You're not eating?" Nat questioned, eyes not even leaving the mac and cheese she was serving herself.

"Nope, we already ate. Bye!" You abruptly turned, running down the hall to your room. Steve quickly followed behind you, eager to spend more time with you now that you've both admitted your feelings.

"They're not going to let us live this down." He laughed, shaking his head at their antics.

"Nope, but at least now we can team up on them." You winked, earning another small laugh from him.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Steve asked, unsure of how the two fo you should spent the rest of your night. You nodded, pulling him over to your bed and setting up your projector.

"Have you seen any Disney Channel Originals yet?" You questioned. You dramatically gasped when he said no, knowing exactly which ones to show him first. "Okay, Lemonade Mouth or Starstruck?"

"Hmm, Starstruck, because that's how I feel around you." Steve smirked, full on grinning when you rolled your eyes.

"You're so cheesy." You laughed, but leaned even closer to him when the butterflies returned to your stomach.

"Yeah, but you love it." Steve joked back, just as eager as you to cuddle during the movie.

"That I do." You admitted, finally fully cuddling with him once the movie was set up. "Now, sit back and enjoy."

The two of you spent the rest of the night cuddling and watching movies, every so often working in a kiss or two... or twelve. Eventually you fell asleep, still wrapped up in each other's arms.

You were sitting on the couch with Steve the next day when Peter returned to the compound. You failed to notice him entering the room, too caught up in your blossoming romance.

"I can't believe I've spent the last three days avoiding you when I could've been kissing you!" You whined, snuggling closer to him.

Steve laughed, squeezing you closer in return. "Don't worry, darling. We've got forever to make up for it." He placed a kiss on the top of your head, also unaware of Peter's presence in the room.

"Wrong." Peter exclaimed, staring wide eyed at the two of you. You both jumped, startled by his sudden proclamation. "You don't have time right now, because I have questions." He pulled you from the couch, already asking question after question in the hallway on the way to your room.

"Sorry, Steve!" You shouted down the hallway, laughing at the pout on his face. He smiled to himself at the sound of your laugh.

"Just make sure you're done by dinner! We've got plans!"

Permanent taglist: @averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @strawberryspence @sebastnstn @jswessie187 @ellobruv @alohastitch0626

Marvel: @leyannrae @livstilinski @oceaniamaddness @justreadingficsdontmindme

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fic

451 notes · View notes

fixdex-fastening-technology · 2 years ago

Photo

color zinc plated wedge anchor, produced by big factory, quality is guaranteed

click here to see more products

#wedge anchor #concrete wedge anchors #wedge anchor bolts #wedge bolt #color zinc plated wedge anchor #galvanized wedge anchor #wedge anchor fastener #china color zinc plated wedge anchor #buy color zinc plated wedge anchor #best color zinc plated wedge anchor #color zinc plated products #color zinc plated wedge anchor manufactureres #color zinc plated wedge anchor factory #color zinc plated wedge anchor supply #color zinc plated manufacturer #wholesale color zinc plated wedge anchor

0 notes

dandelion-sugar · 3 years ago

Text

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞 『Adam x Reader』

Summary: Reader was Adam's first wife before he married Eve.

Warning: Angst, a little fluff, death, deities are really cruel

15,8k

Author's note: Requests for Genshin have not been forgotten! I'm working on it BUT I just finished season one of Record of Ragnarok and needed to write about Adam. I think he deserves more writing about him...he's the best husband and father Earth could have!

"A demoness? A succubus? No! A human whose legends turn her into a fearsome ruler of the underworld! She rules an entire army with an iron fist! Made of the clay of creation, she is made in the image of the gods! N°00000000002 : Lilith!" shouted Heimdall to announce your entrance.

You have been chosen to save humanity. The creation of Adam and Eve. You don't know why Brunhilde trusts you to save the humans. What could she possibly have been thinking in choosing you? Were you the best choice for this? Protecting the beings conceived by your ex-husband and his new wife. Unlike your ex-lover, you refuse to walk around naked. Your body is far too precious to be revealed to the world. You stand in the middle of the arena waiting patiently for Heimdall to finish presenting your opponent.

Your eyes rest on your army led by your only son. The only being you have ever given birth to. The third human born. A slight smile appeared on your lips. Your son resembled his father, and you found that particularly funny. You couldn't help but think that Adam's genes were particularly strong. But the way your son stood proudly at the head of your army...he took that from you. Even if you were to perish in this fight, you know that your army and your son will come through.

Your right hand will be around the shaft of your spear. You hear the mocking laughter of the gods, announcing your crushing defeat. You hear the hesitant whispers of humans about your place among the fighters of humanity. You are known in human legends to be a danger to pregnant women and newborns. To be honest with yourself, you hate this legends. You are a mother, how can humans think that you would harm a woman and her child? Your eyes drop slightly to the floor and your lips pucker into an unpleasant pout. After a few seconds, your face frees itself of all displays of emotion and your hand rises to challenge Heimdall.

"Yes, Lilith?" asks the god who has the role of announcer.

"I will not fight under that name," you announce.

"Huh?" he blurts out in surprise.

"I will not fight under the name of the monster the humans wanted to make me," you reply immediately.

"So...what do you want to be called?"

Lying in a meadow, you enjoy the sun and the soft breeze on your bare skin. Rabbits and foxes quickly surround you to enjoy the comfort with you. Everything is perfect in the Garden of Eden. A shadow covers your face, forcing you to open your eyes to discover the obstacle between you and the sun. It is a pleasant surprise when you discover your husband's welcoming smile, his blonde locks framing his face. Adam sits down beside you, placing his fruit basket between his legs. He pulls out a bunch of grapes and takes one between his long fingers. He then brings the fruit to your lips to let you savour the sweet, pleasant taste of the fruit. A sigh of contentment crosses your lips. Your husband's smile widens as he notices your relaxed state.

"You have grape juice running down your chin, Lilith," Adam informs you.

Your eyelids droop slightly as your eyes express your displeasure. Adam only lets a laugh emit from his throat as he leans forward to lick the grape juice off. Your hand gently but firmly pushes him away. You want him to understand that his gestures of affection will not be tolerated again until he realises his mistake. And you know perfectly well that he has understood what he has done.

"Stop teasing me," you say, a frown appearing on your face.

"I like to see your eyebrows furrow. You look like that kitten that was trying to scare us." replies Adam, running his hand over your hip stroking it in lazy circles, as if to soothe you.

"But unlike that kitten, I can bite," you reply sharply.

"I know you can..." he hums in the hollow of your ear. "Y/N."

This memory was a moment of pure happiness that you experienced in the Garden of Eden before you were forced into exile. This name you chose with Adam was the beginning of your independence from the gods. You had never accepted the principle of being subject to a man and Adam always supported you in this choice. But the gods did not like this and in response you abandoned the name they gave you at your creation. Perhaps this is why Eve was created from Adam's rib? To prevent her from becoming like you.

"Y/N. Call me that," you proudly announce.

The gods of your creation frown but do not protest. They hope that you will perish against one of their own and that your soul will disintegrate in space and time.

Adam had slipped out of the room where he was locked up. When he learned of your presence here, he did not expect you to fight for the humans. The children he had with another woman. He snuck into the bleachers to get a better look at your figure. A sense of nostalgia stirs in his heart as he sees that you haven't changed in all this time. You stand with dignity, your weapon in hand. You are strong and independent, you have become the woman you always dreamed of. A woman you could not have become if you were in his company because...everyone wants his wife to be submissive to him.

Adam does not regret his married life with Eve, he enjoys it too. But he has enjoyed the life he has lived with you. He believes in your victory. He wants you to win. He does not want to witness your complete disappearance from the universe without any chance of reincarnation. Your first separation has already split his heart in two, Adam does not want to experience this intense pain a second time.

You swing your divine spear with one hand, deflecting your opponent's first blow. The strength in this attack was not worthy of a god, was he testing your abilities? Your eyes meet. The victorious and arrogant smile on the god's face already irritates you. He underestimated you because you are a human AND a woman. His leg comes to sweep over yours but you manage to dodge by gaining height. You position your spear, blade towards the ground to pierce his skull. The god quickly dodges in a backward leap, leaving you to land on the ground, puncturing the concrete floor which cracks under the impact.

Your exchange of blows lasts for a while. Or should we say: the god throws blows at you that you deflect with your spear. But suddenly, his paterne changes. The force that the god uses becomes more powerful. His leg comes to meet your stomach. You prevent the blow from reaching your skin by placing your spear between your stomach and his leg. Unfortunately, the attack sends you flying a few metres away. You manage to land with difficulty and before you can regain a stable footing, the god launches himself at you. You are forced to fall to the side in a roll to narrowly dodge the punch. Your cheek begins to bleed.

"Mother!" your distraught son shouts.

"Commander! Get up!" your soldiers shout to encourage you.

You let out a breath, your muscles relax, making your movements more fluid and lively. Your eyes fall on the figure of your opponent. The aura around you changes completely, causing the small smile on the god's face to disappear. Your hands grip the spear and your feet anchor themselves to the ground to give you a good foothold.

"Answer my question before we resume this fight. Why are you fighting for the humans?" the god asks.

"Do I need a reason to fight? The gods have forced me to be submissive and men have clothed me in a veil of monstrous lies. It's like choosing between the plague and cholera," you explain. "But I had to choose and I chose my ex-husband's children.

The humans observing the exchange begin to stir, either out of guilt or because they were moved by your story. Humans get teary-eyed easily, you think. But you can't help but find this side of them very touching. Perhaps it was a good thing that Eve was the Mother of humanity?

"Humans have the will to survive and a strength that allows them to constantly evolve. This is a strength that the gods can never possess," you say with contempt.

Your hatred for the gods is much stronger than your hatred for humans. On your words, the fight resumes. You manage to follow your opponent's movements. Like Adam, you were forged from clay in the image of the gods. You are Adam's equal, you have the same ability as him to copy the techniques you see. Your movements remind the gods of Athena. You had copied the movements of this goddess a long time ago.

Your body and that of your opponent are covered in blood. You are bleeding from the wounds inflicted on you, but you were able to avenge yourself by seriously injuring your opponent as well.

Adam clenches his lips into a thin line, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands but he still believes in your victory. You must win. You can't give him up a second time...you can't.

"They've created a second wife for you," you scream indignantly.

"You're the only one for me," Adam admits in an attempt to calm your nerves. He can't bear to see you cry.

"It's only a matter of time before the gods kick me out of the Garden of Eden! I don't understand their desire to have me submit to male authority! Do goddesses submit to male deities?" you growl in frustration. The anger was so strong that you can't hold back the tears.

"If they chase you away then I'll go with you," Adam announces, interlacing your fingers together.

A soft warmth spreads through your chest as a gasp of surprise passes through your lips. A slight blush marks your cheeks as you look away from your husband. You can't help but enjoy the tender feeling. Adam wraps his muscular arms around you in a soothing embrace. His scent calms your restless nerves.

"Spend the night with me tonight," you whisper.

"We always sleep together," he says, tilting his head to the side, not understanding the meaning of your words.

"Adam..." you gasp shyly. It almost sounded like a soft moan.

His blue eyes widen slightly as the implied request is processed by his brain. A teasing smile spreads across his face as he leans in to your blushing ear to whisper provocative words.

That was the last evening you spent in his company before the gods kidnapped you and threw you away from the Garden of Eden. You never tried to return to that place, you knew it wasn't possible. So you did your best to survive. You were able to thrive and enjoy your newfound independence.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son: Eurynome. A child identical to his father, who grew up with you as his only role model. He has become an independent young man capable of leading an army. But he remains a child... a child afraid to be alone without the reassuring presence of his mother.

It is impossible to understand the pain of losing a parent when you have not experienced it. No one could understand a tenth of the pain of Eurynome's scream as the god's fist plunges into your chest.

Your eyes crinkle under the sudden fatigue your body feels. Your right hand struggles to hold the spear. The humans weep in despair as the gods celebrate the downfall of Lilith, the woman who did not obey divine orders.

Nausea takes hold of Adam's body. All that blood, your blood spilling on the floor. Will you die? Disappear forever...you don't even know that he witnessed your fight. You will never know that he missed you terribly. You will never know that he wanted to feel your warmth in his arms again and whisper those three words to you.

Your eyes linger on your son's tear-streaked face. A peaceful smile appears on your lips. A fire of determination shines in your eyes. Your hand tightens around the spear and you slice the god's jugular before collapsing to your knees. If you must die...then you will prevent the gods from achieving a victory as well.

Your eyes slowly close and your hearing becomes increasingly blurred. The voices are now just an indistinguishable din.

Adam could only watch as your body and the god's dematerialize into a smoke of green glitter. His legs move towards the battlefield as if trying to retrieve the flakes that represent your soul dissolving into space. But your son's crying snaps him out of his trance. His eyes fall on a miniature version of himself.

Cain and Abel have some characteristics of their father but Eurynome is a carbon copy of Adam and you would have to be blind not to notice. Adam walks over to your son and takes him in his arms, sharing his pain. Adam fully understands the tug of war that Eurynome feels.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son. Today, this gift will show the world that you existed. That you are not like your legends.

You are an independent woman, a mother and Adam's wife.

"Adam," you call to your husband, who is perched on a tree branch.

"Yes?" he hums, keeping his eyes closed.

"Don't you think I'm strange?" you finally question him. "Do you think I owe you obedience too?

Silence passes between the two of you. A pain assails your heart at this lack of response and you instantly regret having asked him the question. The disappointment was much stronger than you had thought. You look up abruptly when you hear a thud only a few feet away. Adam had just jumped from his branch. His back was to you. He turns towards you, his face devoid of emotion. He encircles your cheeks with his warm palms. His piercing blue eyes almost seem to probe your soul and you struggle to hold his gaze. But your desire to know the answer prevents you from looking away.

"We are husband and wife, I accept you as you are. Don't change for the world, for anyone," Adam says with conviction.

"So...you love me like this?" you ask aloud, wanting to sound confident.

Adam looks at you slightly surprised at this sudden question. He hums softly before leaning in to kiss your forehead. The smile he flashes makes your heart race.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too..." you admit after a few moments.

#record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #ror adam #Angst #shumatsu no valkyrie #Adam #x reader #ror adam x reader

580 notes · View notes

yanderes-of-inkwell · 3 years ago

Note

Could we get Sally Stageplay x a stoic fem darling? Like, she (reader) is really easy to talk to and friendly, but has a hard time expressing herself outwardly and as a result a lot of people think she's unapproachable personality wise? I'm sorry, I just like the idea of a seemingly 'dramatic' character falling for someone who's got the outer emotional complexity of a concrete block lol

Sally Stageplay - Stoic Female Darling

Note: There’s no need to be sorry! This request was really fun to write! Word Count: 0.5k Warnings: Codependency, mentions of divorce.

♤ Sally is quite surprised when she realises she’s fallen for her darling. Out of all the people on Inkwell, both human and non-human, she’s the last person she would have expected to capture her heart. This is mainly due to the fact that, prior to meeting her, Sally never considered stoic people to be “her type”. She’s always been attracted to people with vibrant personalities, who could express themselves with ease, and this is especially apparent when looking at her ex-husband. He’s very open about how he feels, perhaps even a little too much, so the contrast between him and her darling is staggering. Though, that’s not to say it’s unwelcome.

♡ Sally’s divorce was a long and messy one, and she came out of it with a broken heart and a desperation for someone to heal her. While she doesn’t hate her ex-husband for the way things turned out, a part of her is still bitter that the relationship ended, which is why she wants as few reminders of him in her life as possible; and when she looks back on it, perhaps this is the exact reason that she fell for her darling. Unlike her ex-husband, she’s always level-headed, able to be an anchor for Sally when she loses control of her emotions, even if she’s not the best at dealing with emotions herself.

♧ That’s why she comes to rely on her so quickly. While she does pride herself on her maturity and ability to always be the bigger person, she’s also aware of how emotionally unstable she can get at times, and her darling’s presence in her life helps to remedy that. Every time that she calms her down, or reassures her, or helps her get a grip on her emotions, it makes Sally fall even harder for her. It comes to a point where, if she’s feeling overwhelmed or stressed, she will refuse to speak to anyone but her darling, as she only feels comfortable being around her when in such a vulnerable state.

◇ However, that doesn’t mean their relationship is exclusively filled with sorrow. On the contrary, it’s mostly positive for both of them, despite Sally’s codependency issues always lingering just below the surface. The irony of their relationship, with her being over the top and her darling being stoic as can be, is not lost on her, and she often makes a show of it; both because she lives to entertain, and because her love language is about as dramatic as she is. Some of her antics include: twirling her darling around unprompted before dipping her for a kiss; storming into a room, demanding to know where she is and, upon finding her, throwing herself into her arms; making a big show of blowing her a kiss after each and every performance, and so forth.

♤ Additionally, once she feels comfortable in her relationship with her, she’ll introduce her to her children. A part of her worries that her stoic nature may drive them away, which is why she does all she can to assure them that her darling is nicer than she looks, and she also encourages her to smile a little more when they’re around. She’s desperate for the three of them to get along, and her heart swells with joy when they do. Above all else, she wants to have a proper family like she’s always dreamt of, and nothing would make her happier than having her kids accept her darling as their stepmother.

#cw yandere #cuphead #yandere cuphead #sally stageplay #yandere sally stageplay #sally stageplay x reader #headcanons

52 notes · View notes

fleabagdiaz · 4 years ago

Text

911 won’t show it on screen because they’re cowards but in the aftermath of the shooting, when Eddie is still in the hospital and a sniper is still at large and Maddie hasn’t gone to a doctor yet, chimney calls buck and he’s like “hey can you come see if your sister will talk to you she hasn’t been out of bed in two days”, so he goes over to their place and he just crawls into bed next to her and doesn’t even say anything, he just gets under the covers, and he hasn’t slept in days because every time he closes his eyes he sees his best friend getting shot right in front of him and Maddie can’t get up because she can’t get it out of her head that everyone’s life would be better off without her, and both of their worlds are crumbling around them, but they’ve always been an anchor in each other’s lives, and just being there with each other doesn’t make things better but it does give them both something concrete to hold on to, and Maddie silently reaches out and takes buck’s hand and they fall asleep like that. that happens.

#911 fox #they can lean on each other in spite of and *because of* the fact that they’re both in pain rn #buckley siblings

820 notes · View notes

tomitsuya · 3 years ago

Text

pairing. kita/f!reader/atsumu

summary. kita shinsuke knows better than to ignore what he wants. atsumu knows better than to deny what’s in front of him. you know better than to lie about what your heart truly desires.

tags. angst, love triangle, growing up, slice of life, atsumu and kita keep their timeskip jobs, kita is the same age as atsumu and the reader, small town au; tw: infidelity

part three. we may be able to peek out of the horizon yet. | series masterlist

Try as he might, Miya Atsumu remains true to himself. So true in fact, that nothing really changes about your relationship now that you’re dating. Yes, you’re a lot more affectionate and he makes time in his busy schedule to see you and spend time with you. But he still excels at pushing your buttons and driving you to get up every single day and be the best that you can be so you can dazzle alongside him.

Still, he notices that city life isn’t for you. The city is harsh and cruel and you just don’t seem to adjust. The issue has never been about your merits, you excel at work. You come home drained and unmotivated, sluggish and overwhelmed to try again the next day. Atsumu wonders if it's because city life has disillusioned you— there is no freedom in the concrete jungle, not the freedom you had at home and certainly not the freedom you dreamt about with Kita. Perhaps Kita saw this himself when he came to nationals, the buzz of city life is a thrum of listlessness not a hum of activity. Perhaps Kita Shinsuke rejected what he thought would make him happy for what he knew made him happy.

You reject his advances, his affection, his love. It hurts, like the pain of being rejected as your playmate all those years ago for a boy who just showed up on your doorstep, of watching you give yourself to Kita when his heart wasn’t in it. Atsumu wonders if you’re living your life for your childhood self, to realise the dreams you had, or whether you were living for you. Either way, you cannot go on like this. Atsumu will be damned if he lets this happen for the third time. He has the opportunity now to fix things.

“Tell me what I can do,” he whispers into your hair, cornering you after a long day of work, channelling the spirit of his former captain— the fixer, not the doer.

“I’m tired, ‘Tsumu. I miss home.”

“Then, we’ll go,” he promises and purchases a pair of express train tickets the next day.

Playing support has never been Atsumu’s forte; he’s always been one to charge headfirst into every situation and fix whatever he can grasp on to with his own two palms. But support is what he must play when he brings you home, drops you off, and reluctantly sends off a message to Kita that you’re back and that in truth, you miss him. That home means Kita. And removing you from him meant he cut an anchor off its ship, left it to sink freely to the bottom of the ocean. Atsumu feels terribly guilty that his shot of happiness plucked you from your own universe and transplanted you into his but he was being optimistic, thinking he could love you out of your funk.

Kita does come to his own family home later that night, but they drag a couple of beer cans and head to the field nearby instead.

“You’re takin’ care of her?” Kita asks, gazing into the expanse of the open sky, fingers running through the grass under him.

“As much as she’ll let me,” Atsumu admits.

“I didn’t think you were good enough for her, and—”

“Then do something about it!” Atsumu barks, “I’m tired of being caught in between the two of you and being forced to play a role when I know you both would much rather I not be involved!”

“Atsumu…”

“You’re terrible to her, y’know that,” Atsumu growls, “Letting her hang on to loose threads even though you dumped her and dashed her dreams of a life with you.”

“I’m not destined for success like you are; I didn’t want her to hang on to me, ” Kita sighs.

“Newsflash, Captain,” Atsumu’s words drip with malice, like poison with the intention of festering in Kita’s heart, “she did. She can’t let go of you no matter how much money I earn, how much love I give her, how many presents, dates, flowers I give. She wants you. She doesn’t care that you’re a rice farmer, she hates the city! I bet she’d be happier comin’ out here than either of you realise.”

“I didn’t realise she hated the city,” Kita whispers, “I would’ve never have forced her to go and-”

“You didn’t force her to do anything. She went because she wanted to, in fact she enjoyed university. But I think it’s draining her to spend every day in some stupid office job when she’d much rather be out here and be with you, work the earth, and just live.”

“She told ya all this?” Kita asks.

“I could guess,” answers Atsumu, “I am more perceptive than you give me credit for. A-and I love her. I can’t see her like this anymore.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Kita declares, entirely side-stepping Atsumu’s confession, “I’ll talk to her and help her. I want her to be happy.”

The declaration feels like a knife to the gut. The inescapable cost of your happiness comes at Atsumu’s own, but he knows it isn’t the time to be selfish and make any demands of you.

As soon as Atsumu leaves, Kita thinks about what he wants to say to you. He thinks long and hard; he hasn’t spoken to you in years. An unceremonious break-up as soon as he got back home from a disappointing Spring Inter High and decided that big city life and all its great gloriousness was never meant for him. Kita felt uneasy in the city, with the buses and trains and cars and noise and lights. He liked the quiet of the countryside, somewhere he could hear himself think and be happy.

He lives his life by routine. Kita Shinsuke is intimately familiar with the comfort that only his routines provide him. He had once charted his routine out to include a career in the city. A decent office job, something to ease his parents’ worries and put food on the table. Something he would achieve with his lifetime of diligence and preparation.

But even a lifetime of preparation did not prepare him for the possibility that they would lose at volleyball to a team far less polished and far less experienced than them. It suddenly brings to mind the futility of all his routines if he isn’t at least happy performing them. His plans to work in the city are born out of his desire to please his parents, not out of his own dream. His own heart and soul lay in the rice fields of his uncle’s farm, where he saw the result of his work every single day.

He knew that you could not be saddled with a life in the countryside. Kita has heard about your dreams, and about your aspirations, seen the five year plan you scribbled out in your diary. He could not bring himself to be the one who diverted you off your path by even an inch. So he had broken up with you, citing the reason that he needed to find himself on his uncle’s farm. Truthfully, what he needed and what he wanted were running in opposite directions because he heard you packed your bags six months later and moved to Osaka with Atsumu.

Atsumu was a shooting star on the course across the galaxy. Kita knew that wherever Atsumu was headed, he would bring you along. Because while Kita Shinsuke had envisioned a more humble dream for himself, he hadn’t done the same for you. He wants you to spread your wings in the city, to never have to look back to this small town. He never anticipated that the central aspect in your dream was him, and that his absence left your dream a hollow one.

He shares your sentiments exactly. He misses you, aches for you in the cool nights and hot mornings. He wishes you were there to share his joy with, to share his sadness and stress and worries with. He thinks about you when he sees his neighbour dropping off sweet potatoes on his doorstep— your favourite. He thinks about you when he watches the news at night, the Osaka skyline from the newsroom sends pangs in his heart. Maybe you won’t be able to see the stars, but you were both looking at the same sky.

Distance is a constant. He doesn’t dare reach out to you and give his heart something to long for, he doesn’t want you to come back either and give him a taste of what could have been when you eventually return to your life in the city.

Naturally, Atsumu’s request and visit are huge surprises. Kita could not have anticipated the city not turning out the way you wanted, nor Atsumu coming to him like he had the solution for your unhappiness. It feels oddly like Atsumu has given up, something he wasn’t aware Atsumu was capable of. He obliges Atsumu’s request because it brings him a step closer to what he’s always wanted— an opportunity to ask you to stay. He let you go all those years ago and it would kill him to let you go again.

When you poke your head into his farmhouse, he beckons you in with a soft smile.

“How are you?” He asks, reaching forward to wrap his arms around you.

Perhaps the gesture is too familiar for an ex-boyfriend, but he’s also known you his whole life.

You melt into his arms like they’re your home. And if home is the place where you’re warm, comfortable and relaxed, then perhaps Kita’s arms were your home. He would be there to catch you, your solid foundation, your rock, your present.

“I missed you,” is your answer, your eyes soft and loving as you gaze at him.

“And I you,” Kita whispers, capturing your lips with his.

The two of you tumble to the floor of his living room, mercifully empty for the evening as his family was out of town for the week. Kita presses hot kisses to the side of your neck, hands roaming around your body. You surrender to him; Kita Shinsuke plays you like an instrument. Well-worn hands sink into the curves of your body like they belonged there, his lips teasing and ghosting your heated skin.

Though you feel at ease, your reunion is anything but. You feel immensely guilty- surrendering to your base desires without a shred of consideration for the man who made this all possible and overcame the inertia for both you and Kita.

“Wait,” you breathe, reluctantly tethering yourself back to reality, “This isn’t fair to Atsumu.”

“I understand,” he nods, climbing off, offering a hand to help you up.

“Shinsuke,” you say, “I want to come home. I don’t like it in the city.”

Kita holds you close. You sit in his backyard and stare at the night sky, an expanse of stars of which the two of you were but another pair. Bright and twinkling but unremarkable, indistinguishable from the rest.

“My home is yours,” he answers, “You’re always welcome here.”

“I love you,” you feel tears prick your eyes, the imminent relief of everything settling in, of everything feeling just right again, like you were a child with no concerns and worries, “I love you so much.”

“And I you,” he presses his forehead to yours, “I love you more than anything. My life hasn’t been the same since you went to Osaka.”

“I wish we’d just talked to each other,” you give a wet laugh, wiping your tears, “I wouldn’t be depressed and burnt out and you wouldn’t be lonely.”

“Never mind all that,” he murmurs, “We found each other again.”

You return to the city a week after Atsumu does. You spent all your time in the countryside with Kita, tending to his farm, cooking simple dinners with him and listening to his stories of the time the two of you spent apart. You avoid kissing and touching him too much, acutely aware of how disrespectful you’re already being to your boyfriend. To Atsumu.

This is where you would have been if you stayed behind, you think. Comfortable and content, though not necessarily challenged and successful. Atsumu’s life was never meant to be a congruent path to yours, it was meant to be separate. And this meant talking to him. And ending your relationship and going home.

You weren’t giving up, you were moving on. Your life was meant for more than the rat race in the city, you were put on earth to feel satisfaction and nurture the earth beneath your skin. You were not meant to be cooped up in a concrete box at all hours of the day, surrounded by insipid people whose idea of fun was visiting the shopping arcade on the weekend.

You miss running through the fields and the laughter that spilled from your lips when one of your friends caught you and tackled you to the soft grass. Of that first grass ring Kita gave you, a flimsy piece of nature binding your heart to his for much longer than either of you possibly anticipated at first.

Meanwhile, Atsumu tries his best to soothe the ache of being abandoned, albeit for a week. He knows what’s coming but he foolishly hopes you’re back to give Osaka a second shot now that you’ve recharged.

“How was your time back home?” He asks softly as soon as you step through the door.

“Good,” you keep your answer mild for what’s about to come.

As always, he beats you to the punch, “I know you still love him.”

“This is yours,” Atsumu rises and presses something in your palms. SOmething he bought impulsively after only 6 months of dating when he put his heart before his head and went on a feeling.

You peer down only to see a ring with a diamond on it, flashy, just like his tastes.

“Figures you’d never wear my ring,” he sighs, “Just like when we were children.”

You gasp softly at the memory. Of how cruel you must be to him at this moment.

“I’m sorry-”

“Save it,” he grunts, “I want you to be happy. You’re miserable here- with me, in this city, in your job. I’m not sorry it has to end like this because I love you too much to see you suffer anymore like this.”

“I never wanted to hurt you, Atsumu,” you touch his arm softly.

“Well, you did. But I know you didn’t mean it,” he smiles sadly, hugging you tightly against him, “You’re too kind for that. Maybe that's why I love you.”

“I’m going to go home,” you say, because home is wherever Kita Shinsuke is, not the home you created with him in the city, not the place you live currently, “And I’m not going to touch a computer for the next month.”

“I’ll miss you,” he says instead, “As a friend, as my girlfriend, as my everything.”

“Atsumu,” you whisper his name in awe as you watch tears leak from his eyes.

“I suppose I should be just happy that you’re moving back and that you’re going to be happy again. But I can’t help but feel like I could’ve done more, like I wasn’t enough.” He wipes his eyes clumsily on the back of his hand.

“I don’t think it’s that you weren’t enough,” you cup his cheeks, “But it’s that I wasn’t meant for you nor you for me. ‘Tsumu, you need someone who’s as much of a firecracker as you are.”

“How far did you go with him?” Atsumu queries, a brokenness settling in on his face.

“We kissed,” you lie through your teeth, softening the blow. But the lightness in your shoulders, the pep in your step, surely relay a deeper emotional connection that cut far deeper than whatever physical actions took place between the two of you.

He looks at you earnestly then, a plea in his eyes to tell him that you’re lying. That you didn’t betray him and break his heart for someone else.

You hold each other throughout the night, comforting him the way only a lifelong friendship could, balming the wounds on his heart like salve; you pretend you’re children at a sleepover. He would always be your Atsumu, your childhood best friend who was also an Olympian, destined for great things and complicated things but not simple things, not good things. There is a man a train ride away, whose destiny is cultivated every morning in his rice fields, whose simple and good life is all that you want, all that you could ever need.

Atsumu is not familiar with rejection. When his life has been the night sky upon which he was the shooting star, being dragged back down to earth was never his reality. To lose someone he never truly had was an obstacle he never thought he’d face. Perhaps it was his own hubris, but he never thought you’d want to leave him. Though if lessons from childhood taught him anything, it was that Atsumu was your friend but Kita was the point around which you would orbit. And since he was ready to accept the position by your side, Atsumu supposes he could remove himself from the picture.

You move back to the countryside. Atsumu drops you off at the station, bidding you farewell with a kiss to your forehead. You feel terrible for hurting him but you knew you were withering away in the city. You thrive with Kita and back at home, doing whatever it was that he needed your help with, cooking dinner in his simple kitchen, letting him hold you as you gaze at the night sky dotted with bright stars.

It’s no matter that you hopped off the shooting star for just one of the many stars in a crowded sky. Kita Shinsuke will always be your tether, whether tied to you with flimsy grass jewelry or the comfort whom you seek at the end of a long day. Returning to him feels like a ship returning to harbour, your safety, your comfort, your home.

#kita x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x you #kita x you #kita x reader angst #atsumu x reader angst #miya atsumu x reader angst #haikyuu x reader angst #by: tomitsuya #series: grass rings

65 notes · View notes