#he really is just the perfect mix of chiseled & strong and beautiful & soft

[russellius]

good morning to the most perfect human being on planet earth 🌍✨

[pennylanewrites]

※strawberries, cherries and an angel’s kiss in spring※

Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

Minors DNI! pls go eat some frozen yoghurt:(

description: Jean makes a perfect picnic basket for his fiancée, but the picnic date plans get forgotten when the hot weather makes you dizzy and needy for him.

word count: 2.2k

genre: soft smut, fluffy domestic sex

contains: established relationship, outside sex, unprotected sex, breeding, handjob if you squint, talks of pregnancy, not proofread oops

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Jean looked so pretty, placing hand-picked cherries on a platter, his baby blue polo shirt tight on his biceps. He hummed a tune as he took a picnic basket out of the kitchen door, heading into your backyard. You watched him come to you with a smile, and he admired the sight in front of him. You, laid down on a blue blanket in a short peach-coloured sundress, bare legs tickled by grass blades.

"You look lovely." He complimented you as he sat down next to you and left a kiss on your shoulder.

"You too, love." You returned the gesture and left a kiss on his own shoulder before he took everything out of the picnic basket, setting it in front of you.

"So, how was your day at work?" He asked as he slowly filled two champagne glasses with a sparkling pink drink from the champagne bottle hidden in the cooler.

"Tiring. Our air conditioner was broken today." You pouted, gladly accepting the glass. "What did you do?"

"I was planning this date for us," he took your hand in his, admiring the shiny ring sitting proudly on your ring finger, "and I was thinking of doing something different."

"Good thinking. This is much better than going out on a restaurant." You praised his choice on a picnic in your home's backyard.

"Here's to us." He raised his glass, clinking it with yours carefully before you both took a sip, feeling refreshed by the prickly strawberry taste.

   Everything felt so peaceful; birds chirping, flying over you, a squirrel playing in the bird fountain you had placed under the shade of a tree. The pool was clean and the water looked so inviting, but maybe a different day. For now, you were eyeing the cherries on the blanket. Jean didn't fail to notice, bringing one up to your lips. You parted your lips, taking one in your mouth before feeding another to the brunette.

"Are you happy, Jean?"

"In general?" He gave you a small smile, surprised by the sudden question. You nodded, waiting for his reply. "Very happy. You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I have you. That's all I needed since the day I met you." Sweet words melted into your skin as he peppered kisses up your neck and jaw until his lips met yours.

"Do you ever think that you need more?"

"Like...one more fiancée?"

"Jean!" You hit his torso with a giggle before he wrapped his arms around you, laying you down next to him. Hand in your hair, the other stroking your upper arm, he looked into your eyes and saw his world.

"I love you, ___."

"I love you too." You smiled before kissing Jean, eyes feeling heavy due to the high temperature of that afternoon in May.

Your hands trailed from his cheeks to his torso, unbuttoning the top button of the polo that clung to his body. He chuckled at your eagerness, giving you the chance to slip your tongue in his mouth, feeling the tart taste of the cherries you fed him.

"I love you so much, Jean." You broke the kiss and he easily pulled you on his lap by your hips. Looking down at him, you swept a strand of hair behind his ear, feeling his hands trail to the curve of your ass.

"Babe, it's too hot for you to be on top of me."

"Take your shirt off then." You whispered in his ear, giggling. The mixing of champagne with the almost insufferable heat made you dizzy and...needy. You always needed Jean by your side, but now especially, you simply couldn't wait.

"You don't have to say that twice." He chuckled and you leaned up for him to do the same and take his shirt off. He left it by the forgotten picnic basket, watching you admire his abs, his chiseled torso, and a scar on his side from a fun childhood. Despite knowing and dating Jean for no less than 6 years and no more than 7, you couldn't get enough of his body, his pretty face, everything about him made you feel like a teenager again.

   He wrapped his strong arms around your waist, bringing you back to reality. Another kiss on your lips and you had him laying down again, slowly grinding against his crotch.

"Out here?" He looked at you surprised, then looked around. The tall fence and the hedges around it were enough to keep you concealed and there wasn't any house right next to yours either.

"Either this or carry me inside." You shrugged, continuing to leave soft pecks on his neck and collarbones.

"Silly. I'm saving that for our wedding night." His words once again had you melting in his arms.

"Jean, I need you."

"You got me sweetheart." He kissed you again before his hands bunched your dress up on your hips, leaving you exposed to the warm breeze and to his hands.

   Fingers barely grazing your sweet spot, lips sucking on your neck, your hands messing with his hair, lips letting out a whine at the teasing before his fingers pulled on the elastic band of your underwear, urging you to remove them. You did so easily, getting back on Jean's lap in seconds.

   His lips found your collarbones, where a dainty golden chain with his initial fell. Your hands met with the belt around his jeans, unbuckling it and unzipping his pants awfully slow. You pushed his jeans and boxers down just a bit as he raised his hips to help you. Your chest met his again as he kissed you passionately, and your hand slowly trailed down his abs, over the trimmed brown hairs, making him gasp into your mouth when you wrapped your hand around his cock. Already half-hard, it didn't take him long to get to his full girth, especially when your fingers moved so perfectly around him, his member coated with precum in minutes.

   Another groan escaped his lips when you bucked your hips against his own, crotches meeting with anticipation.

"You're killing me, ___." He muttered as he bit down your neck and shoulder, tongue swirling against where he bit to soothe the sting. You kept grinding against his hard cock until he finally had enough.

   You found yourself under Jean with one swift move, and the lustful, loving look in his honey-coloured eyes had you melting again. Dress bunched up over your hips, the straps falling down your shoulders, his initial sitting pretty on your marked collarbones, Jean found you ethereal. And he wanted to show you in every way possible.

"I love you. So, so much." He whispered in your ear sweetly before kissing the spot behind it, where he knew it tickled. You giggled and squirmed against his warm touch, sending butterflies in his stomach and making him feel like a schoolboy again. His index and middle finger trailed down your puffy clit, to your slit, where his fingers entered easily to prep you for his cock.

   It was getting hard for both of you to kiss each other, it was more teeth hitting against each other and tongues playing inside your mouth, because his fingers curled up inside you, knuckles touching the perfect spots to make you moan out his name.

"Jean, please. I need more." You pleaded, back arching to make your torso collide with his.

"Whatever you want, baby. I'll give it to you." He kissed your forehead, hand caressing your hair as the other held on your hip for leverage.

   Your hole welcomed Jean's cock, though it was always difficult at first. He barely stretched you out as he slowly fit more and more of him inside you, but the way your walls clenched around him made it hard for him to contain himself. You tapped on his shoulder, making him know it was okay. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and earning a grunt from his beautiful pink lips.

   Jean bucked his hips against yours, beginning to thrust into you, making sure your whines were of a good nature and he wasn't hurting you in any way. When he was sure, from the way your fingernails dig into the sun-kissed skin on his back, he picked up the pace.

"Jean-aaah! Jean, faster. Please?" He opened his eyes to look at you; your face was flushed and a bead of sweat was trickling down your temple. He swept it away with the pad of his thumb before leaning down and kissing your lips softly.

   However soft his kiss was, his thrusts were the complete opposite. Jean pulled out of you almost completely, leaving your hole to clench around his tip, before he pushed his cock in again. You didn't have the time to react, because every time he did so, he went faster, until he was all the way inside you, hips pushing against yours and a hand cupping your face to kiss you again.

"I love you so much. God -fuck- you're taking me so well." He tilted his head back, mouth agape at the sensation. You could feel his member twitch inside you, knowing he was close to cumming. You entangled your fingers with his hair, playing with it as you moaned out his name.

"Jean, I'm so -so close-" you arched your back even more, legs wrapping tighter around his waist, not allowing him to pull out.

“Me too sweetheart..Ah, fuck-you feel so good!” His praises went straight south, sending you in a trance as you felt your orgasm getting closer and closer.

“Jean, I want to have your babies!” You blurted out between heavy breaths and moans. Jean stopped momentarily, way too surprised by your confession, but you were too fucked out to notice.

His face softened, and his whole body flushed red as the realization hit. He had been talking about family a lot, and it was something he definitely wanted with you, but every time you had that conversation you cut him off with a ‘we don’t have enough money’. Jean had spent quite a few hours of his life worrying and questioning if you really wanted a family.

“Why did you sto-” You looked up, bringing a hand over your eyes to shield them from the sun. Jean looked like he had gone stupid, with a smile from ear to ear and a few tears threatening to leave his eyes. You pulled him down and kissed his happy tears away, starting to move your hips against his own. He shook his head with a chuckle and started where he had left off, continuing to rock his hips against you, cock buried deep inside you.

“Gonna put a baby in you...fuck- I’m gonna make you a mommy, angel.” It didn’t take him long to cum, especially after he looked down to where your crotches met, only to see his cock coated white with your juices. Your orgasm reached you the moment Jean moaned in your ear; he knew all too well how much you loved his moans. The knot buried deep in your stomach came undone and you could scream out of pleasure. You heard yourself babbling about babies and how good Jean felt, but neither you or Jean could make out any words, too high on the feeling.

You could feel Jean shoot a load of his hot cum as far in your cunt as his cock could reach, pushing the white liquid in you with his slow thrusts. His head fell on your shoulder, hair sticking to his forehead and breath hot on your skin.

“God, I love you.” He whispered into your neck. You tried keeping your breath steady as he slowly pulled out of you. He turned over and reached into the picnic basket, taking two cotton towels out and pouring water out of a glass bottle on them. He used one of them to run it up your cunt and thighs, making sure you were clean, then brought the other to your sticky with sweat residue face, watching you lovingly as he patted the cold towel on your temples. You took it out of his hands and did the same to his own face, pushing his hair back to cool him down.

“So, when can you take a pregnancy test?” He asked after he made himself comfortable inside your arms, one of his own meeting your stomach and rubbing it mindlessly.

“In a week, if we want it to be accurate.”

“That’s too long!” He whined, looking at you with furrowed brows. You laughed and brought your face closer to his to kiss the wrinkle between his eyebrows and make him relax.

“You’re going to be the best daddy ever.”

“I can’t wait, angel.” He nuzzled his head in the soft skin between your shoulder and neck, both of you feeling sleepy as the sun started setting behind the mountains. Yawning into your hand, you wrapped your arms around your fiancé tighter, closing your eyes and taking in the peaceful moments before he had to go to work again.

“I love you.” He whispered before falling asleep with a smile on his beautiful tanned face.

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Happy Father’s Day to Jean Kirstein, the only man whose babies I’d gladly carry<3

[nepenthendline]

Gentle Loving - Tendou

A little N*FW at the end but mainly fluffy this is purely a self-indulgent fic of sucking tendou’s dick for the first time, featuring somewhat a bodyworship kink aka I want tendou to be loved, also kind of a smut alternative to insecurity i guess? It’s in the same setting and about the same stuff so you can read it as a part two or an alternative lol this also goes along with my mental health headcanons for tendou but I’ll keep it pretty vague

this is pretty damn long btw (2.5k words), I have a lot of tendou feelings ok

Tagging @togasknifes bc she had to sit through me complaining about this, and @pudding-head-kenma bc mingi

TW: very very slight, brief hint at self-harm scarring

The two of you had been cuddling in bed watching anime for the last couple hours; it was one of your favourite ways to spend time together while indulging in your hobby. You were tucked in his side with your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and his around you. Every now and then, between comments of the action on the screen, he would lean down and brush kisses on the top of your head. His fingers grazed up and down your arm, setting your skin alight with his warmth. Even after months of being together his touch still managed to provoke the butterflies in your stomach, yet make you feel so calm and safe.

Your turned your head from his chest to look up at him. His wide, glowing eyes were entranced by the flashing of the screen, and his jawline seemed so chiselled from the shadow. The red hair that he shaved off a couple weeks ago had started to grow back in small, fuzzy waves that contrasted his smooth, pale skin. His pink lips were parted slightly and curled up in an anticipating smile; sometimes they even moved along with the words of the characters that he had heard so many times before. You’ve always thought of him as handsome, but right now, he really was the most beautiful sight in the world.

You leaned up from his grasp to plant a gentle kiss on the edge of his jaw, just like you had done many times before. His eyes trailed over to meet yours and gave you a sweet grin, then turning back to his laptop in front of him. Your gaze didn’t move though, as you tucked your head into his neck and placed tentative kisses along the skin, trailing from just below his ear to his collarbone. Your actions didn’t have much intention behind them besides enjoying the feeling of his burning skin against your lips, and his pulse that shook under your touch. As you were about to raise your head to repeat your actions, Tendou’s mouth had captured yours.

After a few first gentle kisses, you placed your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, giving you permission to deepen your movements. With each kiss, your nose bumped against his, and his grip on your waist got tighter. This certainly wasn’t the first time the two of you had lost yourself in each other’s affection this way, but you had never progressed further. Whenever things seemed to get a little more heated, one of you would pull away and put out the flame to relight another day.

But there was something in you this time that wanted more. The way that his fingers dug into your hips, how his hair felt so soft in your touch, and how his eyes looked extraordinarily intense. You wanted to pour your love onto him, make him feel all the admiration and desire you felt for him.

Shuffling the laptop away with your hand, you moved your leg over to be seated on his lap. He didn’t seem to refuse your action in any way, so with both hands on either side of his face, you delved back in to the kiss. One of his hands had found its way into your hair, tugging it ever-so-slightly to keep your head close to his. You were both becoming breathless, but you’d rather suffocate in his love than stop.

One hand of yours moved to his hip, pushing his shirt upwards and stroking the skin under. He shuddered a little, either out of surprise or nervousness, but he didn’t stop you. Shuffling the shirt up even higher, your hand made it way to his exposed abdomen. Since you had started your journey up his body, his kisses had lost sync with yours; the steady tempo the two of you had created was gone, and he let out shaky breaths between each attempt. As your hand had moved slightly closer towards his chest, he swiftly moved to grab your wrist, stopping it.

“I-I’m sorry, did I go too far? We can stop if you want,” you stuttered, pulling back from him. He stared at you with a complex look, as if he was debating with himself.

“No, don’t be sorry. That was my fault. I...” his eyes didn’t meet yours as he spoke. You could tell he had more to say, but he appeared to be struggling with the words.

“What’s on your mind? You can talk to me, it’s ok,” you whispered to him, stroking his cheek with the hand that still rested there.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s fine,” he rushed out, spreading a fake wide smile on his face. He made a move to sit up further, but you stopped him, giving him a look that he knew he couldn’t escape this one like he had tried each time in the past. His gaze filtered through various points in the room but never once on you, thinking over the rush of thoughts in his head.

He let out an exasperated sigh and let his head fall back against his headboard, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I just...,” he sighed again and threw his arms over his eyes to cover his face from your concerned gaze, “fuck, I just don’t want you to take my clothes off and not like what you see,” he spoke fast, as if it would stop you from hearing his vulnerability. You sat still, quiet for a moment as you processed what he said.

“I would never not like how you look, Satori,” you murmured, somewhat to yourself in confusion. “I think your beautiful, and I might not have ever seen you with your shirt off but I’ve kinda already got the gist of what you look like. I chose you, and love you knowing what you look like, and I love it Satori, I do.” you stroked the back of his arms that covered his face in an attempt to soothe him. Honestly, you were just as nervous as him, but you put on a brave face to guide him through this like he always did for you. “I want to show you how perfect you are to me, if you’ll let me?”

Slowly, his arms lifted away from his face and rested by his side; his fingers reaching your thighs and lightly brushed over them. When he didn’t respond, you leaned in again and, delicately, placed a kiss on him. As you pulled away, he bit his lip and nodded. You confirmed with him that you could continue, then kissed him again, before laying him down so he was flat on the bed.

“Just let me know if you want me to stop, ok? We don’t go too far, I promise,” you kissed him once more, before tucking your head down to place kisses along his collarbones to distract him a little as you started to pull his shirt up from the bottom. He, shakily, helped you take it off and laid back down on the bed, clenching his eyes shut once more.

While he wasn’t as active as he used to be in high school, you could still see how years worth of training had moulded his body. He wasn’t ripped or buff by any means, but his shoulders were broad and his arms looked strong; they tensed and relaxed as his fingers fiddled with the duvet under him to calm himself. You placed a hand on his chest and felt as it shifted with every breathe of his. You had spent so much time resting your head on this part of his body, so it already took up a lot of room in your thoughts. His skin was soft and hot as your hand trailed down to his stomach. You leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to the left side of his chest below his collarbones, and slowly, dragged your lips across his torso. One of your hands moved across the bed to find his, and gripped it tightly as your mouth explored his body. He let out deep breath, quivering breaths with each touch, but he slowly relaxed under you. His eyelids remained closed, but their grip softened and the muscles in his face went slack.

“I love you,”

Your mouth worked further down his body, tasting at the skin just above the beginning of his jeans. Moving across, you nipped at his prominent hips, making his jump slightly.

“Sorry,” you giggled at his reaction, stroking your thumb over his knuckles.

“No, no, that was nice, you can carry on, please,” he seemed to be a little amused himself by his reaction, smiling along with you for the first time in a while. Your free hand reached up to find the button of his jeans.

“Can I?” he nodded at your question, so you steadily began to undo his jeans and pull them off his body. Before you could pull them any lower than the tops of his thighs, his hand came to stop you once more, but his grip was gentler, more relaxed than last time.

“You’re gonna see some things but we can talk about it later, just...ignore it for now,” he mumbled, letting go of your hand so you could continue. You didn’t know what he was hinting at, but you didn’t push further. With his help, you pulled off his jeans and let them fall on the floor beside the bed.

You were familiar with his long legs from the lower thigh downwards due to seeing him often in his volleyball uniform during school, but you still took the time to run your fingers down them, massaging them slightly and feeling his muscles flex under them.

“You’re so pretty, Satori,” you said as you leaned down to, once again, trail your kisses up his legs. “You’re doing so well baby.”

His breath trembled more the closer you go to the tops of his thighs, in a mix of pleasure and restlessness. With his free hand now stroking over your hair, he took in all the senses you gave; the warm, wet feeling on your lips on his body, the heat from your scalp in his hand and the smell of your lotion that he was so familiar with. He was so nervous, but his body couldn’t help but fall into your touch,

“I’m going to fall asleep at this rate,” he chuckled in a low voice. You apologised for your slow movements, but he rejected your words, “this is the best day of my life, I don’t know what your apologising for,” his voice was light with laughter, setting a smile on your face too. He had settled down in your motions, so you took this chance to slowly pull his boxers down his legs, letting them meet his jeans on the floor.

You didn’t move for a few moments as you took in the sight of his, now, naked frame. You attention was drawn to his half-hard cock that lay on low on his stomach, and how the tip was the prettiest pink that complimented his complexion. Your eyes drifted over to the areas of his hips and tops of his thighs that were once covered by his underwear. You fingers moved hesitantly to skim the scars that littered his pale skin; they all seemed particularly old, although some were darker and larger than others. Moving down, you kissed each mark without hurry, moving inwards closer and closer to his crotch. You looked up at him to check on his expression; his eyes will still closed but his lips were parted slightly, damp from running his tongue over them.

You placed one, testing kiss on the base of his cock as he let out a deep sigh. Enjoying his reaction, you left warm, open-mouthed kisses to the tip. As you pulled back slightly, you noticed how much harder his dick had gotten through your actions. Wrapping your hand around the base, you noticed how your fingers barely found their way around it, and how your hand felt so small compared to him. You gripped his length a little harder, receiving a quiet, raspy moan. With the moisture from your previous exploration, you easily moved your hand up and down his member; each breath of Tendou’s released with a whine as his head tiled back further.

Taking it one step further, you lifted his cock, fitting your mouth over the tip and slowly sunk down on him. The hand that had been in your hair was now gripping tightly, almost to the point of pain. His mouth was wide open, letting a strained groan leave his throat. You hollowed out your cheeks and continued, moving up and down at a steady pace.

The muscles in his stomach began to tense as you worked him; his body quivering in the pleasure. Your free hand came to rest on his stomach, stroking the skin to settle him down. He had never felt anything like this before. All he could do was focus on the way your head moved and how hot you felt around him. He felt overwhelmed in the best way possible - the closest he had ever felt to this before was a panic attack, but this feeling was much more soothing, warming and addicting. His eyes started to let little tears run down his cheeks as he reached his high; his back arching off the bed slightly and his hips rutting into your mouth. He wanted to warn you but he couldn’t seem to form any words in this moment.

With a loud, strangled moan he finished in your throat. You did your best to take all of his release, which was a little difficult due to the suddenness, but you dragged out his high with slow movements. He pulled slightly on the back of your head as a sign that he was finished so you lifted off of him and crawled up to meet his face, sitting above his stomach. Your hand brushed the tears away that stuck to his cheeks as you checked over him. His eyes were lidded in a sleepy manner and he wore a little smile. You bend down to press kisses over his face, beginning at his forehead, then his cheeks, moving to his nose and finally his lips. Resting your forehead on his, you ran your fingers through his short hair.

“You did so well, my love, I’m proud of you,” you praised in a soft, quiet tone. He chuckled in response,

“I didn’t do anything, but thank you.” With one final kiss, you lifted your body off of his, laying back on the bed with your body leaning on the headboard. You opened your arms for him, and he rolled over to bury his face in your neck; his long arms wrapped around you as you held him.

“I love you, every part of you,” you whispered into his hair.

“I love you too. Thank you.”

[fanmoose12]

When I saw this https://twitter.com/tenyawanyad/status/1401561345539993600?s=19 , I thought of Hange in your fic who works as undercover to get closer to Levi but ends up being asked by Levi to bring him to Erwin. Will read all your other works until you update that one!

the second part (kinda?) to this!

God, Hange hated waiting.

Always had, ever since she was but a small child with skinned knees and mismatched pigtails. She didn't wear pigtails anymore, opting for a more practical ponytail, and her knees were only occasionally skinned, but that feeling, that sense of powerlessness when all you can do is watch the minutes trickle by, not knowing what to expect, having no way to prevent the possible catastrophe... It always led to a lump in her throat that was too big to swallow.

And now, after that gaze Erwin gave her, the one that said we'll talk about it later, she felt her insides twist themselves in a tight, painful knot.

It's been almost an hour, a full fucking hour since Erwin had thrown the door to his office shut, inviting the damn thief inside with him.

An hour and they were yet to come out. Was Erwin still alive?

Was the thief still alive?

Hange listened carefully, but she didn't hear any signs of fighting or struggle. She knew Erwin, though. He could kill a man in ten different ways without creating a single sound.

And that thief. Hange witnessed firsthand how skillful he was.

How deft his fingers were, how firm yet soft was his touch, how-

No. Wrong train of thought, Hange.

Distraction, distraction, she had to find a distraction. Thankfully, she didn't have to look for too long. Distraction came in a face of Mike, who leaned against the wall next to her.

"The big man is still in here?" he asked, pointing his chin at the door of Erwin's office.

"Yep," Hange replied, boring holes in that damned door. What was going behind it? And what was going to happen when it opens?

"Had fun?" Mike murmured, looking at her beneath his long blonde hair.

Did she have fun? With that awful thief? With terrible, foul-mouthed thief who had no manners and with the most beautiful eyes Hange had ever seen? And strong, muscular arms she wanted to be buried in? And that toned, chiseled chest that-

No. Wrong thought again.

"Not particularly," Hange gritted, huffing in annoyance. The thief was an enemy, he humiliated her and could have even killed her. She shouldn't find that attractive. Her stomach shouldn't feel so warm, her heart shouldn't speed up just at the thought of that short jerk. And yet...

"Sucks to be interrupted, huh?" Mike hummed.

Hange's eyes widened. What the, how did he-

"Erwin wired you," Mike shamelessly explained.

His shin was kicked right after that.

"Bastards!" Hange shouted, hitting his arm, she was aiming for the head, but that damned tall jerk... "You two-"

"It was Erwin's idea!"

"Awful, old-"

"I'm only a year older than you!"

"Perverted assholes with no sense of shame!"

Hange finally reached his head, giving it a smack.

"No sense of shame?" Mike lifted an eyebrow, grinning despite Hange's vicious assault. "You are the one who tried to sleep with a target."

"I didn't-" Hange scoffed, pointedly ignoring the blush she felt spreading through her cheeks. "I didn't try to sleep with him. It was just a part of elaborate plan."

"Sure," Mike, the ever asshole patted her shoulder. "Whatever makes you sleep at night, Hans."

God, what an ass-

Mike was saved from another onslaught of punches by the deep rumble of Erwin's voice.

"Come inside, Hange," he said, and, oh god, did he always sound so ominous?

Hange gulped and nodded, obediently trailing after Erwin like a naughty high schooler.

The inside of Erwin's office was dark, a lone lamp on his desk being the only source of light. It made Hange feel just a little more nervous, just a little more reluctant to hear what Erwin got to say.

The shadows that danced across the walls and the deep crease between his eyebrows gave Hange yet another hint that this conversation wouldn't be overly pleasant.

That feeling increased, mixing with spiky, hot anger, when Hange's eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness and she saw that she and Erwin weren't alone in the room.

The damned thief, Levi as he had called himself, was here with them.

He was leaning against the wall with his hands crossed on his chest, looking extremely broody, a little mysterious and unbelievably, unfairly attractive.

Hange wanted to kick him. She wanted to grab his soft black hair, bring his sexy body closer to her and then kick him as hard as she could manage.

And when all was said and done, when she finished paying him back for the insult and offense, she'd kiss him. Until there was no breath left in either of them.

Then, she'd kick him once more.

"Hange, sit down, please," Erwin spoke up, his eyes boring into Hange like he knew exactly what was going on inside her head.

Now, Hange - Hange obviously wasn't dumb. She was a little careless at times, sometimes she could be hot-headed and reckless, but she wasn't dumb. She knew that causing a scene in front of their enemy wouldn't end well.

But, by gods, she wanted to cause that scene so much, she was dying to do it.

Erwin's piercing gaze was making her reconsider, though.

It was as they say - the annoying, sexy thiefs come and go, but her strict bosses are forever.

After making sure that she sent the thief the meanest and darkest of her looks, Hange managed to somewhat quell her anger. It wasn't enough to make her forget about it completely - especially when thief had no reaction to her whatsoever - but it was enough to let Hange listen to what Erwin was going to say.

She'd deal with the thief later, when he was out of the safety of Erwin's office.

Sitting behind his large, mahogany desk, Erwin cleared his throat.

"I asked you both to come here to discuss something," he began, putting chin on his hands. "Your last mission yielded unexpected, but largely satisfying results, so..."

Your last mission? Did Erwin mean her mission, or did he...?

Hange felt a little dizzy as she gave it all some thought.

Erwin couldn't do such a thing, could he? He would never do this to her, of all people, he wasn't capable of-

Hange wanted to laugh. Wanted to slap herself for being so naive and then laugh at her stupidity.

What was she even thinking about? Erwin, the sly, manipulative bastard, was more than capable. He could, he would and he did do this to her.

What a wicked, brilliant man. Hange was so fortunate that he was on her side.

The thief, however... Was Erwin really ready to give him his trust? What did the thief do to deserve it?

"I have a new mission for you," Erwin's voice broke Hange out of her reverie, made her jump and gawk at him. "For both of you," he clarified, forcing Hange's eyes to widen even more. "Levi here already knows about one Nicholas Lovof..." the thief visibly tensed at the mention of that name, his jaw tightening and the scowl on his face growing even darker. Obviously, there was some possibly juicy story with the thief and that Lovof involved. Hange longed to know it, she Erwin wouldn't budge, but Mike... especially drunk Mike... there a chance it could work out. "He knows something about us, something that made him send an assasin after me."

His expression didn't change, Erwin didn't even look at Levi, but oh... the tone of his voice, the slight, barely noticable irritation told Hange everything she needed.

Not just a thief then, eh?

"I need you to infiltrate his office, find everything he has on us. And do it discreetly, of course."

"And how should we go about doing it?" Hange asked. Usually Erwin had a plan she had to regiliously follow, where every possible complication was accounted for. Wasn't he going to give her one this time? Why?

A ghost of a smirk appeared on Erwin's stoic features. "Today I witnessed just how creative you can get, Hange. I'm sure you can manage on your own this time. Besides," the smirk became just a little more apparent, his complecency more and more infuriating. "You'll have Levi with you. I trust him to watch your back."

What an insolent, cocky fucker.

"You may go now," Erwin hurried to say, before the volcano called Hange erupted. "Your mission starts in two days. Until then... you have time to get to know each better."

God, Hange wanted to kick him too. She wanted to wipe that smug grin from his face, wanted to ruin that immaculate haircut and tear his eyebrows one hair at a time.

But the thief... Hange wanted to get her hands on him first. So she could simply kick him, obviously.

Hange swiftly rose to her feet, following the thief out. Naturally, she completely ignored the hearty laugh that came from Erwin's lips.

The thief walked fast, faster than Hange thought he would, considering his height, but her legs were longer and she still managed to catch up with him, even with her stilettos on.

Once she did, she looked around, making sure that the hallway was empty. It was, which was perfect for what Hange had planned.

Of course, there were still security cameras all around them, but Hange didn't care about them. Mike and Erwin had already heard enough. Well, now, Hange was going to make him see something too.

Perhaps, it would even teach the old geezers a thing or two.

"Erwin said we have to know each other better..." Hange spoke with a sly grin. It grew wider, more wicked when she saw Levi draw a sharp breath. "How about we start right now?"

The thief froze for no more than a moment.

It was all Hange needed to seize his shoulders and press him against the wall. She invaded his personal space instantly, not giving him a chance to retaliate or throw her off.

She started with his cheek, cupping it gently before moving lower, tracing her long fingers across his sharp jaw, then equally sharp clavicle.

The thief's breathing increased as she did so. He didn't attempt to break free, didn't try to get away or overpower Hange. He didn't even move, just stood there, staring at Hange with wide eyes.

Hange met his gaze, smiling when she saw that his pupils were already wide. She almost laughed from delight when her hand traveled down his chest, just a touch away from his pants, and Levi visibly shivered.

"It's late already," she purred, putting her hands on his waist. She started to slowly sink to her knees, lowering her hands to his thighs.

Something that very much resembled a moan escaped from his lips, as he stared down at Hange.

She moved closer still, just a breath away from where she knew Levi wanted.

Her grin slowly turned from seductive to victorious, as his fingers found their way into her hair.

"It's late," she repeated, one hand leaving his side to grasp at her own ankle. She fiddled with a strap of her left stiletto, feigning great interest in it. "That's why we should get some sleep."

She threw Lev's hands off her, standing up to her feet and stepping out of his arms. "We have a training tomorrow morning."

The thief's face was priceless - the incomprehension, the shock, the annoyance - Hange delighted in it all.

And that quiet sound - the angry groan, god, Hange wanted to set it as her ringtone.

She evened their score, and, damn, was she ecstatic that she did.

Even as she walked away, Hange felt the burning gaze that followed after her. She couldn't stop giggling all the way to her place, still high on her victory.

Erwin wanted Levi to watch her back, and while Hange wasn't yet ready to trust him to do that, she had a feeling, well... she had a feeling she'd enjoy it like blazes.

[subarubi]

Last Dance

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: It was a broken deal from the start, just one dance and Bucky Barnes will leave you. 

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: 18+. Angst. This is sad. I’m sad, sorry bout it. Fluff. Light smut. I think I wrote ‘ass’ once. 

--

He’s on a date with a sweet dame at the soda fountain when he first sees you looking like an absolute vision. Scowl and all. And when you smack the boy leaning over you from behind, he’s certain you must be some angel fell from heaven. An angry one sure, but an angel still. With downy feathers and doused in golden light. His heart, big and red and beating strong, trembles at the sight. He’s felt flutters in his stomach before and let out uncontrollable smiles when pretty lips press kisses to his cheek, but never has his heart stuttered like that.

Tip to tail, Bucky Barnes trembles, tingles as you walk towards him with fire in your eyes and dark lead drawing your lips into a frown.

Him! You’re walking towards him, kitten heels pounding into the checkered floor and Bucky’s mouth falls slack mid-flirt. His date protests, face twisted sour, but he can’t bring himself to do more than stutter over an apology. Jeez, he sounds like Steve, jaw falling open and offering her nothing but a strangled gurgle.

Ten feet feels still too far as you tie your coat closed tight, spitting venom over your shoulder at the disgruntled man with a red handprint across his cheek that trails after you.

In front of him, right there before him you stand a heavenly storm and he can’t help the breathless “Hi...” that escapes his lips.

You fix Bucky with a strange look, narrowed eyes flitting across the handsome planes of his dazed face. It doesn’t matter how you’re looking at him though, at least not to Bucky. No, all that matters is that you’re looking at him, damn the residual anger still dragging your brow down. He feels fuzzy all over, lights fading into twinkling stars and chatter softening into a low hum like all the cheesy pictures Steve sees. 

What feels like an eternity to the Brooklyn boy only really lasts about fifteen seconds before you’re glossing over him and focusing instead on his date, Rita. “Can we get outta here, Reets? I think I’ve had my fill of drugstore cowboys,” you ask, curiously side-eyeing her date that seems to have a few screws loose. 

Rita sighs, lifting her hand from where she’d placed it on Bucky’s bicep, “But-”

“I can walk you home!”

Bucky cringes as the both of you stare at him following his outburst, a little too loud and a touch too eager. He can feel Rita glaring daggers into him and while Bucky does feel guilty for being a complete jerk, he can’t help himself to stop staring at you with that hazy look in his baby blues.

Your friend coughs loudly, interrupting the drawn out eye contact as you scrutinize this strange man she had chosen to spend the night with. You’re almost thankful for it, the reprieve from those deep pools that seem to shine with your reflection in them. 

“Ya know what, you two-”

“Bucky,” he supplies with a lazy smile stretching across his pink lips, even if you didn’t really ask. Your face scrunches up and really, he has never seen a woman so beautiful. 

“Right... Reets, you and Bucky enjoy your night. I’ll find my way home just fine,” you smile tightly, already making leave. Anything to get away from the starry-eyed man who didn’t seem to concern himself with anything else but you-- not even his date, your friend.

The swinging door and the soft ting of the shop bell accompanies the fleeting image of your skirt flaring behind you and Bucky’s suddenly cold. You’ve taken all warmth from him, any semblance of the burning giddiness that’s seemed to overpower him in the short time since he first saw you. Steve teased him before of a similar feeling. Those infatuations that burnt too bright, too fast and then, in the blink of an eye fizzle out pathetically. 

This doesn’t feel like that. This feels like if he lets you go without getting your name and some hope of seeing you again, he might never be able to breathe again. 

Really, what is happening to him? 

“Listen, Rita...” he sheepishly mumbles, gathering his own coat.

Rita glares at him with enough force to level Brooklyn, eyes ablaze in disbelief, “Bucky Barnes, I swear if you leave me right now...”

Bucky straightens, his whole body buzzing with the need to run after you. His eyes may be glued to your figure floating past the shop windows, but he has at least enough in him to guiltily offer, “I am so so sorry. Will you get home alright?”

“Will I-” Rita’s rising volume starts to draw eyes, “Are you serious? You’re going after her? My friend?!”

“I really am sorry,” he fumbles in his pocket for some cash, slapping it down on the counter. Barely glancing at the shop owner Bucky asks, “Make sure she gets home alright, Tommy?” 

His feet start moving on their own volition, worn brown soles headed for the door before he even has the chance to hear a reply. He knows Tommy is a good man and that Rita will be fine. But him? Well, doused in the cool November air and whirling around left and right trying to find you, Bucky can feel the tightness in his face, a deep frown threatening to settle over him. 

Bucky hears you first, clicking heels-- those robin’s egg blue Mary Janes with the daisy eyelets that he’s surprised he even noticed-- mixed in somewhere between an errant car horn and distant music. You’re a flurry of wild hair, tawny peacoat waving in the wind as you chase down a yellow cab. His lips pull into a grin as it leaves you in the dust, cursing colorfully under your breath. 

“Hey!” Bucky shouts to get your attention.

“Oh,” your lips fall slack at the sight of him briskly walking to close the distance between you. There’s cute little lines on your scrunched up nose that Bucky just wants to kiss away. “Everything alright? Is Rita okay?”

Bucky nods eagerly, unable to calm that wide smile that makes his cheeks ache or his racing heart that unconsciously sends his chest into a soft heave, “She���s fine, jus’ wanna make sure you get home alright. ‘Specially after that handsy jerk back there.”

It might’ve been cute, a nice gesture that would’ve soothed over the harsh sting left by some other man earlier in the night. It could’ve made you smile and set butterflies loose in your stomach and all of the other feelings that your girlfriends talked about. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?”

You expect a lightbulb to flick on over his head, for him to head right back into the shop at the reminder, to break out of whatever odd stupor had kept him from rational thought. But it never comes, he just nods softly and sways on his feet, hands stuffed into his pockets looking relaxed and very much unbothered by your question.

“Well, Billy, don’t suppose it’s proper date etiquette to leave your girl to walk home her friend, is it?”

He tries not to let the misnomer hurt too bad, settles instead for a brief grimace to relieve the pang in his heart. Bucky kicks himself for not properly introducing himself before. Maybe if you hadn’t been so absolutely disarming, he would’ve been able to offer more than a quiet whisper of his name. Maybe then it would’ve stuck and he would’ve gotten yours in return. 

“It’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes. And if it’s all the same to you, Angel, can’t we just pretend I’m just walking my girl home?” 

You snort, honest-to-god snort and it only endears you to him more. He thinks at this point he’s half in love with you and any more he might just propose on the sidewalk. It’s crazy, he realizes. But his mother always said sane is boring. 

“Are you thick in the head or just a plain jerk, Bucky Barnes?”

“Huh?” Bucky’s eyes bug out of his head.

You roll your eyes and that’s it for him. His knees scream at him to bend down on one of them and beg you to be his forever. “You do realize Rita’s my friend, right? The girl you left to do whatever it is you’re doing right now?”

He’d thought he was flirting, being cute, the right side of cheeky. Apparently not. Bucky clears his throat, smile falling just a bit into something softer, shy if you’d believe it, “I ain’t ever met a dame like you, Angel. What’s your name? Please, I gotta know.”

Quiet, less full-on than before, you can appreciate how handsome he is. That bashful blush across rose petal lips, stirs you up inside. You vaguely remember Rita gushing about meeting him the 'most beautiful man across all five boroughs’ and laughing at her hyperbolic tendencies. Dark chestnut quaff, chiseled jaw with a dimple at his chin, frosted blue irises-- ‘most beautiful’ may not be something you can say for certain, but he is a downright dish. Too bad he’s apparently a perfect mix of thick in the head and jerk. 

“What’ll it take to get you to leave me alone, fat head?”

Truthfully, Bucky will go if you really want him to. He’s not so arrogant to overstay his welcome with women who want nothing to do with him. He won’t try and change their mind about him because normally, they’re right. 

“A dance?” He can’t help himself. 

His heart, the big and red and beating strong one, feels like it blooms flowers out of his chest when you seem to actually ponder the idea. You've lost a lot of your initial fire, eyes cast downwards, brows pulled together in thought, hands fiddling with a button on your coat. Another flash of you that Bucky just catches a glimpse of that makes him feel like a little boy. 

“So if I dance with you, you’ll never talk to me again?”

“One dance and I’ll disappear, if that’s what you want,” Bucky reluctantly replies. He’s pretty sure the one dance is gonna make him want a million, but he’ll honor your wishes. 

You spare a glance up at him, and god dammit he looks like a puppy. A puppy you’ve kicked and you just want to wrap him up in your arms and tell him you’re sorry for whatever it is you’ve done and- what?

“You’ll keep your hands chaste?”

“Scouts honor.”

“Right here?”

“Right here,” Bucky smiles, the soft one that you like a lot more than the too big one you saw him flash Rita earlier in the night. Rita! You’d almost forgotten that the next morning Rita will have that sour look on her face and be cursing his name. And you’re supposed to tell her just how much of a jerk he is and how she deserves better than men like him. 

“But there’s no music...”

“Sure there is, Angel.” 

Bucky gestures to the shop behind you as he already sways gently to the faint sounds of Louis Armstrong’s trumpet from the windows emanating warm light that paints everything rose. 

“You’ll stop calling me Angel?”

“But you are.”

The words catch in your throat and you can only manage a flustered “um” in response. You’ve not exactly shown Bucky Barnes your best side tonight. He’s witnessed you slap a man and storm out of the soda fountain dramatically with the ugliest angry face you could muster. You’ve called him the wrong name and then fat head and you’ve rather rudely told him to ‘bug off’ in no uncertain terms. And you’re an angel for it? He really is crazy.

You ignore it, shaking your head and holding a hand out to notarize the agreement. 

“Okay, deal.”

It’s a broken deal from the start. Bucky knew it, you knew it. 

As you sway back and forth in your apartment, bodies desperately clinging to one another, some part of Bucky, the unselfish part of his love that only wants to see you happy, wishes you’d never said yes. That you left him in the rear window of a taxi or even gave him a good wallop for pestering you so much because you’re breaking his heart-- because he’s breaking yours. 

“Angel, I-”

“Can we just dance, Buck? Please, just let me hold you.”

Your tears are warm and wet in the hollow of his neck, eyelashes drawing small streaks of mascara over his pulse. Every time your trembling lips brush over his throat, peppering it with soft kisses like bolts trying to anchor him to you and Brooklyn, Bucky feels like his heart-- the one that trembles just for you-- just might shatter. 

One of the fingers clutching tight balls of his fresh green uniform, he’d hoped to be wrapped in a gold band some day. He imagined a matching one of his own, gleaming proudly in the sun for all to see that he is yours and you, his. He tells you all of this because he thinks it might make you feel better. Give you hope and something special to plan for when he gets back. Steve will have to hold on to the rings, of course, because Bucky can’t be trusted to not lose anything important. 

He bites his tongue thinking that the sentiment might include even you. 

You’ll get married at the courthouse because once he’s back home, he won’t want to spend another night not being your husband. It’ll have to be in secret because his and your Ma’s will murder you both for not having it in a house of god. That’s okay, though, because Steve will be there with the rings and Rita, who never fails to shoot him scathing glares, can reluctantly hold your flowers. It’ll be perfect. He can’t wait. 

“Bucky, please...” you sob, not really sure what you’re asking for. 

Please let’s just dance. Please hold me tight and never let go. Kiss me, touch me, give me something, everything. Please stop making promises you can’t keep. Please stay.

His answer is to softly cup your jaw and brush his thumb over your chin tenderly. To duck down and press his lips to yours lightly, sweet and slow with a saltiness that you can recognize as tears. Yours, his, the world’s. 

It’s quiet, only the static of a finished record that still twirls around the gramophone and your soft sniffles filling the dark room. You’re still swaying as Bucky holds you tighter to him, the hand over your jaw slipping into the back of your hair, the other gliding from hip to the small of your back.  

He hasn’t stopped touching you since he got his orders. At dinner he kept your left hand tightly grasped in his across the table, wouldn’t let go, even when you needed it. At the Stark Expo, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and littered your face with kisses when he could, sometimes drifting a hand on the curve of your ass. He wanted to go dancing, to get to hold you close for a couple more hours and see you smile-- touch up the image of it etched in memory so that he won’t forget on the nights he’s surely going to need it. 

You end up at home instead, not really dancing like he’d wanted, but better still. Just wrapped around each other with pale moonlight lighting the high points of your faces, the rest in shadows. There’s some semblance of dancing. Your hands began on the tops of his shoulders and his respectably on your hips. 

On the bed, Bucky’s shivering weight pressing you into the mattress, your shaking hands curl around his back and dimple the hot expanse of skin there. He’s whispering all those hopes and dreams into your skin, marking it as a promise with a kiss and lave from his warm tongue. Bucky’s sweet on you, he’s made sure all of Brooklyn knows it, so he’s always sweet with you. You feel grotesque, eyes puffy with snot dripping from your nose, but he calls you the most beautiful things, stares at you like you’re an angel. 

He marvels quietly at the sight of you beneath him, skirt rucked up and the top half of your dress pulled down so his lips could find familiar ardent trails. Bucky’s fingers trek the path from your bobbing throat that’s still half sobbing down the center of your chest, curving around you to slot themselves between your ribs. He’s unusually sloth-like in every movement, eyes lazily tracing your familiar curves, hands palming your flesh that vibrates with need unhurriedly, drinking up all of the soft sounds of pleasure that spill from your lips. You know what he’s doing and you can’t keep the tears at bay when he meets your eyes again. He’s committing every part of you to memory, looking at you like it’s the last time. 

Bucky thinks perhaps the worst and best thing he’s ever done was dare to look at you long enough to fall in love. 

He’s crying too when he finally takes you, muttering ‘I love you’ so many times that it starts to sound like ‘I’m sorry’. Punctuating every thrust with a desperate kiss that makes him love you more and more and himself less and less. He never deserved you and you loved him anyway and now he’s off to war unable to fight the deep upset at the idea of you at home waiting for him. Wondering if he might die before he ever gets the chance to do the decent thing and marry you, make an honest woman out of the love of his life. 

“Bucky, I-” you choke out, legs locked around his undulating hips, feet pressed into the backs of his thighs.

He smiles the soft one you love so much, but it wavers as he balances himself on one trembling arm, bringing the other up to brush damp hair from your face and hushes you soothingly as he picks up pace. 

Bucky ruts into you with his forehead pressed against yours, eyes locked so close and all you can see is blue and a reflection of yourself that is more beautiful than you see in the mirror. 

This is how Bucky sees you and your heart burns at the realization. 

You moan in the small distance between your lips, as you feel it bubbling up inside; all that Bucky has always tried so desperately to show you, he’s pushing into the warmest parts of you and begging you to understand. Love and adoration and something so strong you don’t think there’s even a word for. It mounts in your tensed gut, cresting with a hard thrust that has you wailing and clutching him so tightly you think you’ve melted into him. You’re sure of it. He’s taking every part of you with him. 

After he’s finished simultaneously filling you with all of his love and ripping your heart out of your chest, there’s not much else to say. No more tears, no more declarations of love and apology. Just this emptiness as the two of you lay a tangled mess of numb limbs, waiting for the sun to come up and take him off to war. 

Bucky kisses your forehead softly, and manages to push a whisper out of his throat raw from sobbing and crying out your name, “I’ll come back to you or I’ll die trying.” 

[slashingdisneypasta]

MultiVillain x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: Okay, so this is how it goes. Reader’s in love with (Villain), and (Villain) is in love with them… but no one ever said it out loud, and now Reader is marrying someone else.

Includes: Napoleon Boneparte (Misc), Human!Oogie Boogie (Disney Villain), Oswald Cobblepot (Gotham), Slenderman (Creepypasta), The Clown (Horror Villains)

Warnings: Alcohol intake, talk and hints towards murder of course, and swearing. 

Notes:

Inspired by ‘Marry Me’ (Either by Thomas Rhett [The guy’s POV which is what this will be in] or Elle Mears [Your POV, if you wanna see how Reader’s thinking]) and I recommend you listen while you read! ^^

I’m so happy!! I finally wrote something more then headcanons for Oogie! And this is also my first time writing for the Clown, so be easy on me XD

I hope you like this- I for one, am actually pretty proud of it! 

~~~

Napoleon Boneparte (You’re having a nighttime wedding- you made this decision of course so your friend and secret soulmate could attend):

She wants to get married, she wants it perfect She wants her grandaddy preaching the service Yeah, she wants magnolias out in the country Not too many people, save her daddy some money

Before walking into the church, I halt a moment at the side so others may get inside by me. This will be hard. I need a moment, just a moment… to pull myself together. It would be very bad, if I were to panic as Y/N makes their way down the aisle.

Hand on the church, more to hold myself together rather then to hold myself up. Am I doing the right thing? Should I be here? Should I leave? That stupid Capone said I might not be able to control myself and will object when the preacher asks… he’s not right, is he? It’s true, I don’t feel entirely under my own control right now…. But I need to be here. To support Y/N on their big day.

… I do love them, far more than any man every should a nearly married person, and even if I can’t have them for myself, I would, happy, do very near anything to make them happy.

So, if… If they want me here, as they said they do… Then I have to go in. I can’t chicken out now. I am the great Napoleon Boneparte. I can attend a wedding. Bon dieu.

Viva La France.

I can do this.

Forward!

As soon as I walk in, it is as if I am strolling into Y/N’s mind. This is just as they always wanted, with a few obvious added things by the other one that’s getting married today, like the chiselled cat head mahogany chairs… not that I think Y/N would disapprove if they weren’t, in fact, kind enough to just agree right away, seeing as it isn’t only their day.

The white makes a beautiful backdrop for their chosen accent colour, and the people in the room are exactly who I would imagine to accompany Y/N in her daily life, when I cannot be there. There’s not a sour, or in any way unexcited and unencouraging expression in the place.

Honestly, with my whole heart, wish I could feel the same as them.

Then Y/N comes into the room, and steals the breath right out of my chest. Like always.

Human!Oogie Boogie:

Ooh, she got it all planned out Yeah, I can see it all right now

I'll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back I'll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask

Christ, what kinda shindig is this?? I’ve asked everyone and their cat, including somebodies’ mother who looks like a cat, to play a tiny game of Blackjack with me while we wait for the main event, but nothing! Nada! What’s wrong with these people? Are they dying to just sit around and contemplate their loneliness until the two hosts get hitched??

I, for one, am not playing that game today.

Of course, I’m also avoiding Y/N at all costs so maybe I’m not the best example of a man controlling his emotions.

“Oogie!”

My shoulders seize up visibly, at Y/N’s voice behind me and I stop shuffling my cards. I only decide to turn around and face them like a man, when they give up waiting and round me so I can see their beaming face.

Oh, they look so happy.

That’s nice… in a terrible, heartbreaking, awful kind of way.

“Heya, Y/N. You look great!” I start shuffling the cards again in my hand, distracting my hands from and refraining myself from, taking their hand and kissing it, or pulling them into a hug. If I did that, I think theirs an acute possibility I would end up saying something we would both regret, in a moment of determination… and devastation, of course. Can’t forget that.

Really, I can’t. It’s a very prominent feeling right now in my chest, just being here. Just knowing this is happening.

“Thank you!” They beam wider, and oh Jesus. They’re so beautiful when they look happy- I wish I could make them this happy.

… But that’s all the other guy. The one they’re hitching.

They run their bottom lip through their teeth, looking down at the cards in my hands and then smirking in that mischievous way that always somehow makes this blackheart’s insides clench up. In a good way, but still. Tilting their head, they look back up at my face. “Had no luck getting anyone to bet with you yet?”

I let out a deep, theatrical sigh full of frustration. “No! Your guests all suck, Y/N.”

“Even you?”

“No, not me. I’m the King.”

“Right,” They laugh, then goes and sits down at a nearby table. “Well we have 10 minutes until I have to go get ready to walk- I’ll play you if you want!”

My heart pops like a balloon, and goes flying, wheezing around in my rib cage as I just smile at them for a good moment- unmarried, and free, and mine. For ten to fifteen more minutes. Hell yeah, I’m going to sit down and play with them.

Why aren’t I telling them not to? I wonder, as I deal us both cards and they pick theirs up and make cheeky ‘Hmmm’ sounds to throw me off. Why don’t I tell them, right now, how I feel? Why am I doing this to myself? Why am I here, is also a valid question but I already beat myself up over that last night when I was picking out my tie. I’m her friend, and they deserve to be… yuck. Happy, with the person they chose.

And I guess, that’s the answer to all my other questions too.

Let me just enjoy this last game, this last 600 seconds with them.

Oswald Cobblepot:

I remember the night when I almost kissed her Yeah, I kinda freaked out, we'd been friends for forever And I always wondered if she felt the same way When I got the invite, I knew it was too late

And I know her daddy's been dreading this day Oh, but he don't know he ain't the only one giving her away

As soon as Y/N leaves my side to go and freshen up for the aisle walk, I find myself a seat in the very back of the church / auditorium and rest in for the event. I will not be moving from this hidden away spot, in convenient shadow, with my secret flask of terrible smelling stuff that Victor gave me before arriving, until this shitshow is over and I can leave.

I’m only here in the first place, because Y/N asked me. And, evidently, my idiocy runs deep because I accepted such an invitation. I will do anything, for them. I learnt my lesson in dealing in peoples love lives, with Edward and Isobel- I will not let my relationship with Y/N go as badly as that one did, with Ed.

So if I must sit here and watch them marry that moron, (Fiancé’s Name), then that is what I’ll do. But I won’t sit in the front and watch it, and I will be as drunk as whatever this drink can make me.

Maybe I should text Victor, the deadly assassin, and ask what the contaminants are…

An unevolved, ap-like woman walks past my seat and I must be too close to the aisle because I can hear her yap like a strangled cat about what a cute couple Y/N and (Fiancé’s Name) are together and how they must be soulmates, and I don’t think twice before gulping down a huge mouthful of the alcohol. If this is how I die, then so be it, I think bitterly as I slide further down the aisle.

“Fuck!” The word comes out of me before I can stop it, my face probably the picture of horror and disgust. This… drink, if I can even call it that -more of an undiluted acid, if you ask me, - tastes like regret and earwax.

The same ape-like woman from before flashes a stern, disapproving look at me like she thinks she’s my mother, and I show her my middle finger. Uncouth, yes, but affective. This is a bad day, and I am in no mood to deal with bitches like her. She quickly looks away, and I take another, smaller, sip of the drink.

Another moment passes and the wedding doesn’t seem to be even a second closer to ending, so I sit up straight and close my eyes, holding the flask in my lap. Take me back to a better time…

In the silent, middle-of-the-conversation lapse moment, I allow myself to look down at Y/N’s mouth. They have a soft smile, left over from whatever we were just talking about, on their face as they sit comfortably in our silence and I suddenly feel total confidence. They’re here, with me, instead of off with that boy toy / girl toy / gender neutral or fluid toy. They’re with me. That must mean that I mean something to them, right? And Ed said they looked at me like… like, they love me. Or ‘care deeply’, as he put it. But we all know that was just his stiff version of the word ‘love’. Ever since Isobel… had her unfortunate accident… he’s been focused on one emotion only and it is not, love.

Anyway, the confidence spreads through me and I smile. It mixes with my perpetual desire to kiss them, and goddamnit, I should do it. I should just lean over and press a gentle kiss on their mouth- if they aren’t interested or pull away, I can blame it on the wine between us. If not…

Butterflies erupt in my stomach and my chest, and I’ve just lean an inch forward… when their phone rings on the table and I see (Boyfriends Name) flash on the screen.

I rush to lean completely back in my chair, as they answer. I don’t like to believe fate has anything to do with Gotham, but… that was entirely too close.

My eyes snap open and I roll my shoulders back, inhaling another, bigger slug of the contents of the flask and feel even angrier.

That was, most certainly not a better time, you nitwit.

Slenderman:

Bet she got on her dress now, welcoming the guests now

I could try to find her, get it off of my chest now But I ain't gonna mess it up, so I'll wish her the best now

I’ve been sitting in the back of this church, a place I likely shouldn’t ever enter in the first place -Well, at least I’m not Offender. I would probably burn to death, in that scenario, - for over 2 hours and I only got to see Y/N for 45 and a half minutes of that time.

Not that that really matters. Its more important that they see me. I certainly don’t want to see them. I don’t wish to see them, or their wedding clothes, or their wedding guests, or the stupid moony smiles on their faces, or the cake, or their partner. Definitely not their partner. If they show their face before they absolutely have to, or worse, talk to me, I will promptly go home and kill 30 people. I don’t want to be here.

I shouldn’t be here, in fact. If I were a good man, I wouldn’t be here. A good man would never turn up to a wedding that he know’s he’s just going to sit back in and think unholy, too-fond and too-angry thoughts about one of the marriage participants. Marriage is supposedly a sacred thing, and if I were this good man that I’m thinking about, I wouldn’t urinate on it like this.

But I am not a good man.

So, really, what would I know about what a good man, would do in the first place?

Enough thinking about good men, it’s making me queasy and very uncomfortable.

I don’t look around, but I can infer with general certainty, that Y/N will be welcoming all her other guests now that I ‘allowed’ -Not that I could have stopped them. They just didn’t want to leave me in my own company,- them to let me be alone here. And they’re in their wedding clothes, which look lovely on them, and their smiling and their giddy.

Giddy. Ugh, I hate that word, especially in this sense. Defined by the Cambridge English Dictionary as ‘feeling silly, happy, and excited and showing this in your behaviour’. And by the Oxford, to ‘Make (Someone) feel excited to the point of disorientation.’. Yes, I looked up these definitions and memorised them before I came, and loathe every single word, in that order.

Because apparently, as if it wasn’t already obvious by the very fact that I’m HERE, I hate myself.

This other person has made Y/N giddy, while I have to sit here and pretend, I’m happy for them both and that I don’t feel like vomiting for the first time in 5 centuries.

But I can’t do anything about it, because I love them, Y/N, and I will… I will not, allow myself to be the reason their wedding wasn’t perfect. So, I wish them the best.

Or I try my damn hardest to.

The Clown / Jeffry Hawk / Kenneth Chase:

So I'm in my black suit, black tie, hiding out in the back Doing a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask I'll try to make it through without crying so nobody sees Yeah, she wanna get married Yeah, she gonna get married But she ain't gonna marry me

I don’t know if I’d call this a real wedding. For one, its in the entities realm so how ‘magical’ could it really be? And for another reason, the only white thing here is my grease paint. Its pretty laughable. I would laugh, in fact, if I didn’t know it would cause a coughing fit and bring attention to me as Y/N walks down the aisle- O don’t need them looking at me. I might accidentally blurt out an ‘oopsie’ or something not-at-all funny like that, with all the whiskey I’ve injected today. Not that that would be the biggest issue with these kids seeing that I’m here, in the first place. Only Y/N knows, I’m hiding by a tree.  

But, I digress I guess. They’re calling it a wedding. The big one with the beard is officiating -I guess he has an online certificate from before he was brought here,- , Y/N’s wearing a pit of plastic bag on their head like a make shift veil / bit of plastic bag fashioned sort of like a tie, and all the lovely little fingers, or survivors as they like to call themselves, watch. With silly gleaming smiles and hope in their eyes- Pft, suckers.

Honestly the idea of weddings in the first place make me a bit uncomfortable. All those wide eyes watching and perving on your happiness?? Seems pretty creepy to me, and I’ve been told I’m pretty creepy myself! So, I would know!

The fact that possibly the sweetest, perfect person I’ve ever had the pleasure of setting my gaze upon is the one getting married, has absolutely no stake on my take on weddings in this moment.

Absolutely not…

Aha… hahahaha…

I kill myself.

I kill them, too, but let’s put that on the backburner like their fingers, for now.

Let me wallow in self-pity for a while longer before we start making jokes.

Yeah, let me… I take a swig of my flask -a bee-oootiful concoction of all the most toxic hootch I have in my collection, and maybe also some actual poison maybe since I wasn’t paying much attention when I created it this morning and I keep it all in relatively the same place, - and savour the horrible flavour on my tongue. Let me wallow, for a little bit.

This is going to be a bad day, for these little fuckers when I get into the game.

[jackiejacks923]

Love in Four Ways: Dream Lover [part 3]

Pairing: Shownu x reader

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

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

You opened your eyes and was met with Hyunwoo’s sleeping face. You didn’t even know how you got back into bed, but now you know the reason behind these location changes. You were just thankful that you haven’t woken up yet and were still wrapped in Hyunwoo’s arms. You felt safe and loved and you didn’t want to move from this position ever.

As the rain rapped against the windowpane, you took advantage of this moment and memorized his face as he slept. His perfect nose...his soft cheeks...his chiseled jawline...his very kissable lips. His strong eyebrows that sat above such loving eyes. You never wanted to forget how his love for you always radiated when he looked at you. You gently ran your hand through his hair and gave him a kiss on his forehead before slowly prying yourself from his embrace, careful not to wake him, to cook him breakfast.

You dressed yourself in your leggings and found one of his shirts in a drawer to use for your top and headed for the kitchen. As you headed down the hallway you have become accustomed to, you noticed the kids’ rooms decorated as guest rooms. You were in a world where it was just you and Hyunwoo, before the kids entered your lives. Your heart felt determined more than ever to make sure they became your reality to see their bright smiling faces once again.

You entered the kitchen and on the counter, you saw that the dreamcatcher already had a menu planned...makings of breakfast fried rice. You tied your hair up in a messy bun and got to work. You got busy chopping and scrambling and frying fully concentrated on making a delicious meal for your husband. You were busy singing to yourself while you were mixing the ingredients in the frying pan when you were surprised as a pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

“Have I told you how I love seeing you in my shirts?” he whispered. You giggled as his lips tickled your ear.

“Hungry?” you asked him as he nuzzled into your neck. You heard him hum his response and then kissed your ear before sniffing the scent your cooking was giving off. “Why don’t you see what side dishes we have in the fridge and get the table set,” you suggested, “I’m almost done here.”

He gave you one last kiss on your cheek and hugged you tightly before doing as you asked of him. The feeling of his hug still lingered and you wondered how you’d be able to cook when you awake knowing that it could be like this. You sighed internally. You needed to stop worrying about what would happen when you wake up and just enjoy the rest of the time you had in this world before your alarm would go and interrupt it.

You transferred your finished dish into a bowl and brought it to the table as Hyunwoo finished setting it. You took your seats and then began to fill up his plate before serving yourself. As you spooned your first bite, he took a piece of one of the side dishes and placed it on top of your spoonful. Touched by the simple gesture, you turned to him and smiled your gratitude as he smiled in return. You ate in comfortable silence as the rain continued to fall outside.

“What did you want to do today?” he asked you as he reached to hold your hand.

You played with his wedding band as you chewed and thought. A lightbulb went off in your head. “Let’s watch the wedding video.”

“I should’ve known you wanted to do that,” he said as his eyes crinkled when he smiled at you, “You always do when it rains.”

“Do I?” you asked. I wonder why? you thought, But also...he notices this?

After you finished your meal, you did the dishes together while Hyunwoo hummed a familiar tune. You knew you heard it before, but couldn't remember where you heard it from. When you were done, Hyunwoo kissed your forehead as a reward for a job well done and took your hand as you both walked to the couch. You got comfortable while he set up the TV to start playing the video of your big day. Hyunwoo took a seat next to you and wrapped an arm over your shoulders inviting you into his side.

The opening shot was of staff running around trying to get a canopy up around the open courtyard of the ceremony area while the rain started to come down around them. At the same time, other members ran around with towels in their hands to wipe the seats dry. The next scene was of you in your wedding dress, makeup and hair done, looking out the window as the raindrops fell.

“This guy and the rain,” you said to no one in particular, “I shouldn't be surprised.” A smile formed your face.

“At least rain on your wedding day means good luck and fertility,” your mom said as she came onto the screen with your bouquet of white and pink roses with accents of baby's breath. “Are you ready?” You nodded your answer as you both followed your bridesmaids out of the suite.

There was a fade and then you watched as Hyunwoo also looked out the window wearing his white suit accented with the same shade of pink in your bouquet. He had a big smile on his face. "It rained when I proposed, on our first date, and the day we met," he stated as he laughed and scratched the back of his head.

A woman who you could tell was his mom came into frame and pinned his rose boutonniere on his lapel. "At least now you know, if ever it rains, something great will happen for you two," she tells him and gives him a kiss on his cheek. He nodded agreeing and hooked her hand on his bended arm as he followed his groomsmen out the suite door.

You diverted your attention out the window as you saw the rain fall outside your home. You looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back and gave you a kiss in your forehead as you both focused back on the events on your TV.

A song began to play in the background as a montage of the ceremony started on the screen. Your wedding party consisting of faces you recognized outside of this dream life and some unfamiliar ones as well marched down the aisle. Your dad approached a smiling Hyunwoo and placed your hand in his. The video then panned the whole ceremony venue filled with happy faces despite the rain falling around them. The music lowered enough to hear you exchange vows and rings and for the officiant announce you husband and wife. Cheers of your loved ones filled the air as you shared your first kiss as husband and wife.

A sky wipe transition then brought you to the reception venue as the MC announced your arrival as you joined your guests to celebrate your nuptials. You watched as the camera captured your friends and family enjoying dinner as they clinked their glasses requesting for you and Hyunwoo to share a moment of affection with them.

Hyunwoo then reached for your chin and angled your head to give you a sweet kiss, mirroring the actions of the Hyunwoo that was on your TV screen. You touched your forehead to his just savoring this moment with him, when a familiar tune from the TV started to play. It was the same tune that Hyunwoo was humming while doing the dishes. You turned to the screen and saw that it was your first dance as husband and wife to your special song. This song seems to mean more than that, but why can’t I remember, you thought to yourself.

As you were trying hard to figure this mystery out, Hyunwoo got up from the couch and offered his hand. “May I have his dance, Mrs. Son.”

“Who else would I dance with, Mr. Son?” you replied as you took his hand and entered his arms.

You both swayed together as your song played in the background. You rested your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. “That’s why, darling, it’s incredible that someone so unforgettable thinks that I am unforgettable too,” Hyunwoo sang along holding you tighter in his arms. You hummed satisfied with the beautiful voice that graced your ears. “I love you, Y/N,”

You closed your eyes. “I love you, too, Hyunwoo...with all that I am,” you replied. You hugged him tighter.

Please don’t let me forget this, you prayed to whoever was listening. You never wanted to forget this dream that renewed your hope in finding someone to share your life with. You just prayed that Hyunwoo really is somewhere out there for you to find. You were determined to wait however long it took in order for this dream you experienced to come true. You felt his lips press the top of your head and then you heard the buzzer of your alarm in your ears.

(picture credit to Bored Panda, #3 Dancing in the middle of your living room, just the two of you)

Part 4 - Final

[fangirl-on-bitches]

Dream

Obi-Wan x Reader OneShot.

Word Count: 1491

Warnings/AN: Based of the best dream I ever had. Slight AU ( I would call it more like a canon divergence), but it was fun in my head. As it was a dream the places don't really belong to anything I saw in Star Wars. It has some plot at the beginning but towards the end there’s like no plot. I just love this man.

Summary: You are an ally of Padmé Amidala. The place? A senator banquet in Coruscant. Padmé is actually on the separatist side but no one knows, except for you, of course. You are in charge of disposing the body that both Padmé and you are responsible for killing.

_________

It was always all pleasantries and formalities amongst senators. You knew this well, and were trained to fake them wonderfully. Even with all the adrenaline running through your veins you kept a polite smile and a straight back, nodding and chuckling whenever you had to.

Padmé, who was also faking by your side, was quick to give you a hint to leave and finish business. She excused herself from you with a credible and common senator excuse "I need to discuss private matters with senator Alavar, my friend, excuse us."

"Of course, m'lady." You said out of habit. With a confident stride you walked through the banquet, admiring the crystal dome showing some stars, mostly hidden by the artificial lights of Coruscant. The art gallery where the banquet was taking place was pompous and did not reflect the current war situation going all around the galaxy. Enormous paints decorated the walls and a mix of gold and marble could be seen in columns and wide staircases, a black piano contrasting perfectly with the ambience.

Thankfully, your diseased objective was well hidden. Senator Kharrus was a big Gran but once dead he fitted perfectly in the commode by the bed, all you had to do next was dispose him safely somewhere in the dumps of Coruscant, throwing him down some levels should do the trick.

You had to change to more discrete clothes and hairdo. A two piece black set, a tight ponytail and a cloak later you were ready to begin the operation. The hallways of the grand hotel were quiet and private as many senators usually had some illicit activities going on.

The commode was of course, no ordinary commode. It had wheels and looked a lot like a suitcase, so anyone who might cross your path would think you are just leaving. Of course, you didn't expect to cross paths with anyone on this floor, as senator would be returning to their rooms in later hours.

However, your plan wasn't perfect. Both Padmé and you weren't informed about the weak Jedi patrol around the hotel and it's perimeter. This was no problem, after all, you had a speeder with your accomplice waiting for you at the entrance of the hotel, you just had to get on the elevator and descend to the ground floor.

It stopped halfway through, a Jedi master entering the elevator. You were too distracted and a bit anxious to notice it was Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé's old friend and your well known acquaintance. He greeted you with polite smile, his dreamy eyes glinting. "Master Kenobi." You bowed slightly, a small blush creeping up your neck. "Making rounds?"

"I'm afraid so." He replied with a sigh. "But I can't complain, this is by far less stressful than the battlefield." In an attempt to inflate his ego and distract him from whatever question he may ask, you then turn to him with a worried expression.

"Oh my, the battlefield?" You batted your eyelashes slyly. "I bet it's so harsh to command battalions and lead attacks. How do you handle that?" Obi-Wan chuckled slightly, shaking his head.

"It's a little stressful and time consuming, but nothing we can't handle together."

"By together you mean...?"

"Together would include Anakin, his padawan and of course Cody and Rex, the commanders, alongside all the battalions." You nodded and quickly looked how long before you reached your destination. Not much.

"So I guess I should be calling you General Kenobi, after all, I call Anakin 'General Skywalker'."

"Oh, there's no need for that, my dear." To your dismay, the Jedi was also going to the ground floor, and because he was such a gentleman and so nice he scorted you to your speeder. You almost melt in your seat when the speeder began to fly away from the Jedi. The journey wasn't long; with your hood up to hide your identity you thought about Obi Wan Kenobi.

It was a waste such a wonderful looking man was a Jedi. He was so... Uptight as well. All bark and no bite, he's the type of Jedi that flirts and flatters left and right, but does not touch a single hair of your perfect head.

You knew, everyone in Gossip Infested Coruscant knew, Jedi aren't celibate, and this made you want to make a move on the Jedi. He was such a nice view for sore eyes, although there was something off with him. Maybe it was his formality or that he simply lacked a pinch of malice in his oh so pure jedi-soul.

Before thinking too much on his amazing smile and hair, or his incredibly well kept beard, or even before imagining the strong pair of arms under his robes (and whatever other goods are hidden down there) the speeder stopped.

The stink of the trash compactor was so evident and penetrating you were surprised you haven't gagged yet. With the help of your accomplice you threw the body, which was inside a black bag, in the compactor watching how it got crushed and no witnesses to take care off.

As soon as you got to your hotel room you took a quick shower, covering yourself in perfume and soap to cover whatever trace of trash smell could be left. You got into your pompous senator like dress, which was actually nicer and more comfortable than most senator dresses. A beautiful emerald-green long dress with your hair down and a few accessories to complement.

You rejoined the party with a soft nod to Padmé. The job was finished. With the grace of a lady, and the hunger of a lion, you attacked the banquet, trying to look as composed as possible. As you were looking at the desserts you noticed two people you knew. General Skywalker and his padawan, Ahsoka Tano, stood in their Jedi robes watching over the party. The girl noticed you, waving with a sweet smile. You walked with a smile on your face, that pair were your favourite Jedi.

"Good evening General, Commander." You greeted maintaining formalities. Anakin nodded and Ahsoka smiled. "You have to do rounds too?" You asked, remembering Kenobi.

"Who did you cross paths with?" Ahsoka asked.

"With Master Kenobi. I met him in the elevator an hour ago." You replied, remembering his handsome smile. Some small talk later you decided to walk to the piano. You sat and started to play some Naboo melody, intended to be background music, more than anything else.

You were so concentrated in playing the correct keys at the correct pace that when a cold hand placed itself on your shoulder you almost yelped. You looked up, and Obi-Wan's chiseled face smiled down at you. Of course, you stopped playing the piano. "General, we meet again."

"A pleasure meeting you so often, my dear." He replied, his hand squeezing your shoulder lightly. "May I take the lovely-looking lady for a walk?" He offered his hand, leaving a longing trace in your shoulder. You took his hand and stood up, he then smoothly interwined his arm with yours, scorting you to wherever he wanted to go.

"Aren't you on duty?" You ask curiously, looking at the man by your side. "Don't get me wrong, I L-enjoy the pleasure of your company but I wouldn't want to distract you from you duties." You corrected yourself before saying you loved the pleasure of his company, he may take it the wrong way.

"I just finished my duty, Ahsoka and Anakin came to cover my spot." You nodded, noticing how you were now out of the banquet, heading towards the private gardens with a great view from Coruscant. You yawned, sitting on a marble bench, the Jedi following suit. "Long day?"

"You wouldn't even imagine. Talking with all the senators is really draining."

"I feel the same way sometimes, but from all the people on the banquet today, you are my favourite to talk to."

"Well, yeah, I'm not a politician." You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to ignore the fact that you where his favourite. "Does that mean you like talking to me more than you like talking to Anakin?"

"Anakin... It's complicated. He talks too much. And Ahsoka too." Obi Wan admitted making you chuckle.

"Well, they are younger than us." You pointed out, making the Jedi nod. Then he started to talk about how much energy they had and how loud they could sometimes be. His voice was so soothing, your eyes started to close. You were resting but could still listen to him. At some point your head found his shoulder.

"I see my words are not enjoyable." He told you, his voice softer than before. You shook your head slightly, one of your arms snaking and holding his left arm, looking for warmness.

"Please keep talking, your voice is relaxing." You could hear a smile as be proceeded to talk and describe his war life in the Outer Rims.

_______________

AN: Hi! So, my dream wasn’t actually like this 100%. The elevator part was added for more Obi-Wan. But in my dream, in the piano part, Obi-Wan touched my shoulder and told me “I know what you did, my dear.” and then I woke up. It sounds creepy but it was not creepy in my dream it was more like a seductive affirmation lol. So that’s why the end sucks sorry :(

[solei28]

Coffee, Pie, You- Chapter 1

Here is a new fic I’m working on. I’d love to know what you guys think. 

James was walking down Clarkson Avenue in Brooklyn. He had just left Kings County Hospital after stopping an armed robbery in progress. It had happened a few blocks away and he made it there just in the nick of the time. The man being mugged had been hit in the face with the gun robber had before aiming it at the man’s head.

For once, James thanked his nightmares. Had it not been for them tonight, that poor man would’ve been killed for a few measly bucks and a watch.

He had started going for long walks at night knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep. Tonight, his walk saved a life.

After beating the crap out of the thug and calling the cops, he took the ride in the ambulance with the victim. This way he could make sure the man was going to be alright and let the officer who went with them know what had happened. Both the man and the office were surprised when they found out who he was.

“Thank you so much, Sergeant,” the man said tears in his eyes. “How can I ever repay you?”

James shook his head quickly. “There’s no need to. It’s what my job.”

“Sergeant Barnes, it’s an honor to meet you, sir,” the officer said shaking his hand. “I’m Riley Fitzgerald.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” James said. “Do you need anything else from?” He asked as they pulled into the emergency room parking lot.

Riley shook his head. “No, Sir. That’s all.”

James gave a curt nod. ��Well, have a good night.” He looked at the man. “You’re in good hands from here. Please, be careful in the future.” And, with that, he jumped out of the ambulance and continued his walk.

He was starting to feel hungry and wondered if there was anything open this late. To his delight and surprise, he found a food kiosk. The sign above it read Curious Delights. As he approached, the aroma of coffee and bacon made his mouth water. Then, he saw the woman behind the counter, back to him, flipping a pancake over.

He watched for a moment as she swayed her hips to a song playing from her phone. She grabbed an aluminum plate and began to stack the food from the grill in it. She was humming as she turned around and finally saw him standing there.

“Oh, hello,” you say sweetly, hiding the fact that the man startled you a bit. “What can I get for ya?”

James smiled shyly. You were so pretty and had the softest eyes he’s ever seen. “Um, a coffee, cream, and 2 sugars, please.”  

“Small, medium or large?” You ask putting the plate to the side.

James thought about it for a moment. “Medium is fine, thanks.”

“Sure thing.” You turn and grab a medium cup to his coffee. You look at him over your shoulder. “Would you like something to go with it? Maybe, a hot sandwich or a slice of pie?”

James bit his lip. He was hungry, but he didn’t know what he was in the mood for. Apparently, you read it on his face.

You handed him his coffee and then a menu. “Here, take a look. While you pick something out, I’m going to have breakfast.” You grabbed the plate of food.

James chuckled. “You know what? I’ll have what you’re having if it’s not too much trouble?”

“It would never be too much trouble, Sergeant,” you said with a wink. You laughed at the expression on his face. He looked like an adorable confused puppy. “Yes, I know who you are. Kinda hard not to. You are an Avenger.”

Smiling sheepishly, he said, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He took a sip of his coffee and his eyebrows went up. “I think this is the best coffee I’ve ever had.”

Your cheeks went pink at the genuine compliment. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” You quickly turned to the grill and began making his food.

James looked around at the empty streets and then at his watch. It was 1:37 am. “So, are you always out here so late?”

“Only 4 nights a week. I do the graveyard shift. I’m here from 11 at night to 9 in the morning,” you tell him grabbing 2 eggs. “How do you want your eggs?”

“However you like them,” James answered and took another sip of coffee. It really was delicious. He couldn’t wait to try your food. “You’ve got guts being out here all night alone. These streets are dangerous.”

“Over easy, it is, then.” You turn and smile at him. His heart flutters. “Ah, it’s not so bad. Since I’m so close to Kings County, my main customers are hospital staff, EMTs and officers. They keep me safe and I keep them fueled.”

James huffed out a laugh at that. “Sounds like a good deal. Which nights are you here?”

You flipped the pancakes and reached for another aluminum plate. “Thursday to Sunday. Business seems to boom on the weekends.” You turned with the plate in hand and showed him what you made.

His eyes widened. There were 4 pancakes stacked up next to 2 eggs and a mountain of bacon. “This looks great, doll.”

You were caught off guard by the pet name. “Oh,” you said abruptly snapping his eyes to you. “I almost forgot the best part!” You reached to your right and took the lid off a small stockpot with a ladle in it. You mixed the contents a bit and then poured it over the pancakes. “There. Now, it's ready.”

James looked took the plate from you and looked at what you put on the pancakes. There were strawberries and bananas in some kind of sauce on them. He looked up at you curiously and saw you adding some to your own plate.

You frowned for a moment at his wary expression. “It’s just strawberries and bananas cooked in some honey. It’s really good. Try it,” you urged handing him a plastic pack with a fork, knife, spoon, and napkin in it.

You watched him eagerly as he took it and opened it, taking out the fork. While he cut into the pancakes, you had a chance to admire just how handsome he was. His blue-grey eyes were intense and focused, but you could see softness in them. His jaw was strong and chiseled. Your mind wandered to how it must feel to kiss those full lips.

James had to bite back the moan that wanted to burst out of him when he tried it. He couldn’t believe how good it was. The pancakes were fluffy, the fruit concoction was the perfect compliment for them. “Wow, this is amazing.”

“Really?” Your eyes lit up with pride. You always loved when people enjoyed your food. Especially, when it was something that wasn’t traditional. It was the perfect motivation to keep at it.

“Yes! I would never have thought to pair pancakes with this. Way better than boring old maple syrup.”

That made you throw your head back and laugh. James couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. You had the cutest laugh. He found himself wanting to be the reason for you to laugh like that all the time. You were breathtakingly beautiful.

“Well, I’m glad I was able to introduce to something new,” you said after catching your breath. “Um, would you like to sit down? There’s a seat on the side here.” You pointed to the left side of the kiosk.

“Oh, thanks. Can I put this here for a moment?” he asked gesturing to the plate of food and then the counter. When you nodded, he put the plate down and retrieved the folding chair. He set it up far enough to side that he wasn’t in the way of any customers, but could still see you.

You both ate in comfortable silence. The night was slow, and you were able to finish your meal without any interruptions. You felt at ease with him there. Almost, as if he belonged there.

James got up when he was finished. “Hey, do you have garbage back there?”

“Yeah,” you took the plate from him and disposed of it.

“So, how much do I owe you…” James realized that he didn’t know your name.

You smiled at him and stretched out your hand. “I’m Y/N, Buchanan.”

His jaw dropped when you called him by his middle name. When was the last time anyone ever called him that? He was so stunned by it, he didn’t notice how long he was shaking your hand.

You giggled and bit your lip. He was adorable when he was shocked. “Is it alright if I call you that?”

James was pulled back to reality and finally let go of your hand. He felt the heat on his face and looked down with a bashful smile. “Yeah, doll. You can call me that.”

You gave him a toothy smile. “Great. And, that will be 6.75.”

James looked at you bewildered. “That’s it? A meal like this runs me 13 bucks at the local diner and it ain’t half as good.”

You were in stitches when he said that. “That is another reason for my popularity with my usual customers. I offer better prices and better food.”

James shook his head with a crooked smile. He reached into his pocket and handed you a 10. “Keep the change, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Buchanan, but you don’t have to do that,” you told him sincerely. “I don't do this for the money. It’s a way to give back to the men and women who dedicate their lives to save others.”

So, you’re beautiful, an amazing cook and you have a heart of gold. James could see himself falling for you hard. “You’re really something, Y/N. You know that?”

You cursed yourself for blushing as hard as you did. You couldn’t look him the eye when he said that. God, how you wanted to kiss him at this very moment. He chuckled at how red you had become.

“Where are you from?” He asked trying to ease your embarrassment a bit.  

You looked up at him after regaining some courage. “I’m from the Bronx, but I’ve been living here in Brooklyn for a few years now.”

James nodded his head and smiled. He heard voices coming down the block. There were a handful of people in scrubs walking towards the kiosk. Looking back at you he smiled. “Looks like you have some customers.”

“Looks that way, indeed,” You smiled handing him his change. You were ready for him to insist you keep the change, but was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t. “You like pie?”

“Um, yeah,” James said raising an eyebrow.

You ducked down and grabbed a slice of pie in a plastic container from the glass display under the counter. You plopped it down on the counter, then turned and began making a cup of coffee. You put them into a brown paper bag and handed them to him.

“But, I-” you didn’t let him finish.

“Its a thank you for keeping me company. It gets a little lonely out here sometimes.” You looked at him with hopeful eyes and he took the bag from you.

“Thank you, Y/N. You were great company to be with,” James said. “The food wasn’t bad, either.” He winked at you and preened when you blushed again.

The Scrubs were almost upon you both. “Hopefully, good enough to visit again?”

Now, it was his turn to blush. “I will definitely be back again soon, Y/N. Have a good night.”

“You too, Buchanan. I’ll see you soon.”

[cottoncandyshawn]

Babydoll Dancer (Part 2)

Synopsis: Shawn hasn’t heard anything from y/n since the night he saw her on stage. Becoming fed up of waiting, he takes matters into his own hands.

Warnings: Mentions of smut in the start, but thats about it I think!

Word Count: 2k

Like and reblog if you enjoyed this xx

He had tried to busy himself with paperwork. Tried to occupy his mind with thoughts of anything other than her, but it always found its way back, causing his heart to skip a beat and his chest to flush. He couldn't help but remember the way her hips had swayed to the music playing over the speakers, or the way the light coating of sweat on her chest shone under the bright lights. The way her eyes held contact with his, like she was trying to figure him out.

It had been almost two weeks since he gave her his name and number, bolting out of the hidden burlesque lounge soon after so that he could tend to his throbbing length, which had been trapped in the confines of his tight pants.

He found himself checking his phone more often than he would on a regular business day, disappointment settling deep within his chest when he found no texts and no missed calls. He wondered if the unspoken chemistry they shared that night was just all a part of her act, and that he'd read too far into it in the moment; too caught up in the lust and butterflies of it all to notice.

It wasn’t often that he got restless when he was alone in his penthouse, but restless was an understatement of what he was feeling this evening. Had this been any night prior to watching Babydoll dance, he would have busied himself with office work, signing papers, finalising deals; anything to keep himself occupied until he was ready to retire for the night. 

Some nights he would settle himself in bed even earlier than usual. His underwear neglected somewhere on the floor as he tugged at his leaking cock desperately, his head alternating between tipping back and exposing his throat as he gasped and moaned, and watching the naked woman on his laptop screen take whatever her man was giving her. The act leaving him satisfied as he would wonder into the ensuite bathroom to clean up the mess of a painting he had created across his chiseled abdomen and flushed chest.

Tonight was different though, he couldn’t concentrate on anything, with the memory of how her lips had wrapped around her index finger clouding his mind. The image of how she had sucked away the champagne, holding eye contact with him until it all became too much and he had to look away had embedded itself in his brain. It replayed vividly every time he closed his eyes, keeping him awake and as restless as the flickering Toronto city lights.

Sighing heavily, Shawn pushes away from his kitchen counter, his fingers combing his messy curls away from his face. He wasn’t angry or frustrated, he was simply confused. Everything her body language was telling him that night in the dimly lit room was saying that she was as interested as he was. He’d left the ball in her court. Grabbing a water bottle from the refrigerator, he leaned against his cold, marble bench tops and sipped from the glass vessel. He wondered if the reason she hadn’t called was his own fault. Had he given her the wrong number? Did she not see the note?

Placing the bottle down on the counter, he pulled his phone out to check the day.

Saturday, 10:05 PM

Remembering that she said she danced every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday, serving every other day; a knowing smile crept up onto his features. Pushing off the bench he made a beeline for his room to change into his black jeans and a maroon button down shirt, his excitement building as he grabbed his car keys and headed to the out towards his Jeep.

The club was exactly how he remembered it as he payed his entry fee and pulled back the thick, ruby red curtain. The strong scent of sweat and cheap cologne hitting him all at once as his eyes adjusted to the dim lights. Searching the room, there was no sight of her, only other waitresses and older men with their hands covering their crotches and their eyes glued to the dancers on stage. Making his way over to the bar, he had to pause for a moment as he spotted her. There she was, looking so cute as she moved around behind the bar, a concentrated expression falling over her features as she appeared to be mixing a drink. It was busier tonight, the atmosphere in the small burlesque lounge buzzing with adrenaline and lust. She looked stressed and it made him worry that now may not have been the best time to interrupt.

Pushing his thoughts and hesitation aside, he made his way to the bar, standing in front of her, taking note of how her lips pouted ever so slightly as she dedicated her focus to the task at hand. She must have felt eyes on her as she smiled and looked up, her expression dropping as they locked eyes. She remembered him, how could she not?

He realised that he was staring, a blush finding its way to his cheeks and his hands becoming clammy as he battled with the excitement bubbling over in the pit of his stomach… what the hell was happening to him?

“Hi,” he spoke first, his teeth showing in a relieved smile behind his pink lips.

“Uh, hi! Nate, our bartender will be with you in a moment-“

“I’m actually not here for the show. Do you- do you have time to talk?” He played with the ring on his finger, a nervous habit he had picked up over the years as things started getting serious at work.

“I’m working,” she spoke bluntly as she made her way out from behind the bar, grabbing her serving tray and beginning to weave her way between tables to serve drinks to patrons.

He couldn’t help himself as his eyes travelled south on her body, appreciating the curve of her hips with a low hum deep in his chest as she sauntered away from him.

Realising that she was moving farther away from his at a fast pace, he made the quick decision to walk fast and catch up to her, apologising to audience members as his large frame momentarily blocked their view.

“Can we please talk for a moment? I promise it’ll only be quick, please-“

She fought back the urge to smirk as she interrupted him… was he begging?

“Shawn, I said I’m working! Come back another time,” she spoke louder, frustration evident in her tone.

‘She said my name. So, she did get the note,’ Shawn thinks to himself.

Just as she decides to continue walking away from him, his hand reaches out and gently grips onto her upper arm. He looks at where his hand is placed and notices how soft her skin is, small bumps arise under his warm grip and it softens the mood slightly.

His eyes trail up slowly, meeting her’s as he searches for any signs of hesitation.

“I really need to talk to you. Please.”

His eyes bore into her’s, pleading her silently to agree to a quick conversation.

She pauses, as if she’s thinking. Weighing up the pros and cons of being one-on-one with him. She’s nervous, he can tell. It runs through her like electricity, lighting up her gorgeous eyes with worry, or maybe that was just the spotlight searching the room for the current performer. Either way, it didn’t matter to him. She was in front of him, and she was beautiful.

She lets out a huff, and it’s as if they’d both been holding their breath, waiting for the other to react first.

“Go wait at the bar, I’ll be there in a few,” she sighs out in defeat.

A thankful grin crosses his features as the look in his eyes screams a million thanks.

Sitting at the bar, he orders himself a rum and coke. The alcoholic liquid calms his nerves momentarily as he sips on it slowly, not at all phased by the performance on stage as he scrolls through his phone, waiting for her to finish up serving drinks. He can feel eyes burning into him and when he glances up, he’s met with a pissed off glare from Nate, who is standing on the other end of the bar as he dries a few martini glasses. Thinking nothing of it, he looks down at his phone again, until he hears Nate clear his throat and he looks up, yet again meeting his burning eyes. Shawn raises his eyebrows and offers a friendly smile, only to be scoffed at. Before he has the chance to react, he feels someone take the drink out of his hand and place it on the bar-top, relief washing over him when he realises that it’s y/n and not some stranger looking to start a pointless fight.

She grabs his hand and leads him behind the bar into a the storage room, locking the door behind her before she crosses her arms over her chest and turns her body to face him. His cheeks are flushed when he thinks about the position he’s in; locked in a storage closet with the girl that drives him wild. He felt like he was at a trashy college frat party again.

Silence fills the room for a few seconds, the tension in the room almost too much to be able to breathe. Shawn opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off before a sound can push its way out of his lungs.

“Just so you know, theres a massive difference between a prostitute and a burlesque performer. My body isn’t for sale,” her voice stern as her eyes hold a sense of dominance.

“Wait… what?” Confusion evident as his body language and tone of voice shift.

“You said I didn’t have to dance for money and you gave me your number. I got your note. I got the message loud and clear, Shawn.”

“You think I thought you were a prostitute? No, I wanted you to call me so that I could ask you out on a date, y/n,” he laughs out, a little bit shocked by her assumptions. Of course this would happen to him, he’d find a girl who intrigues him and she thinks he wants to hire her for the night.

“Oh… Well- well what about saying I don’t have to dance for money?” She stumbles over her words, the embarrassment of misunderstanding the simple gesture making itself known in the form of a warm, pink stain across her cheeks.

“That’s something I’ll explain to you if you let me take you to dinner?”

“Alright then, Wednesday night. I finish up here around 8, we can go for a late dinner?”

“Sounds perfect, I’ll pick you up!”

“Oh no, it’s okay I can-“

“Let me? Or is turning down my offers kind of your thing?” He questions playfully, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes at her, as if he’s trying to figure her out.

She laughs in front of him for the first time tonight, and it’s almost as intoxicating as the rum and coke he didn’t have the chance to finish earlier in the night.

“Oh my god, I wish we could start over! You probably think I’m so rude,” she giggles out, her fingers pushing her stray hairs out of her face.

He offers her his hand as if he’s introducing himself for the first time. Her eyes trailing up to look into his eyes questioningly.

“Hi, I’m Shawn. I don’t think you’re a prostitute, but I would really like to get to know you if you’ll let me.”

She bites her lip and looks down at his extended hand as she smiles, fighting back a squeal of excitement. Placing her small hand in his as she locks eyes with his. The lighting in the storage room allowing her to take a proper look at his features. She takes note of his eye colour, a deep hazel; easily mistaken for brown, but she sees the green and yellow flecks in his sparkling orbs.

“They call me Babydoll around here, but you can call me y/n if you want,” she says, amused by how ridiculous they must look.

He leans down slightly, bringing her delicate hand towards his face and looks into her eyes with a smirk as he presses a slight kiss to her knuckles, causing her blush to darken and his heart to skip a beat.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

[entireoranges-creativity]

Carriers Of Light

Title: Carriers Of Light Fandom: Game Of Thrones Ship: Braime Note: Jaime never left the North; or if he did he returned (really it's not important lol) Disclaimer: I don't own, don't sue

“What about you?” Queen Sansa asks with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Pardon me your Grace?” Brienne has a suspicion of what was being brought into question; this topic had occurred several times the last few months; though never directly from Sansa.

“A child. When will you and Ser Jaime be bringing a new life into our world?” The fact she was able to say Jaime without biting back a snarl or anything far worse impressed Brienne.

“Oh I’m not sure...” In truth Brienne was.

“Despite my personal misgivings about him and yes I realize some are undeserved and perhaps with time I shall learn to forgive him fully; but regardless of all that I can tell you care about him deeply. He to you as well.”

“Thank you.” She looks down embarrassed filling her skin redding her cheeks.

“After all those lost on all sides it’s a beautiful thing all these babies and pregnancies.’ Sansa pauses and rubs her swelling belly. ‘You should really consider it.”

“Yes. Perhaps.”

That evening Brienne sat across from Jaime in their shared quarters. He reading and lost within the words. Without meaning to she sighs. He snaps up eyebrows raised.

“Everything ok?”

“It’s fine. Sorry to disturb you.”

“You do realize your a horrible liar my love. Now speak.”

“I think it is time we dissolve this relationship.”

“What in the Seven Hells are you talking about?!” Brienne is battling tears as Jaime stares at her his face emoting both anger and confusion.

“You deserve better.”

“I deserve better?!’ He repeats snapping the words. Brienne nods not trusting herself to say more. ‘Woman I don’t deserve better because I already have the best woman in all the kingdoms and beyond. And it’s not about what I deserve or don’t deserve because we both know I’m truly not worthy of the love you give me; yet you do and I’m humbled every moment. If anything it you who does not deserve my love.” Jaime leans forward taking a strong hold of her hand squeezing.

“I can’t give you what you want.” Her words are soft, barely audible.

“I want you. And I have you.”

“Jaime you should have children, heirs and carriers of your name. You should be able to love and nurture a child in ways I know the Gods intended for you.’ Brienne stops talking to surrender to the tears and sobs racking her, Jaime’s hand never moving. ‘And I, I, I won’t give that do you.”

“Brienne please calm down. I hate to see you like this.”

“I wish I could be the one to give you a hundred children.”

“I certainly do not wish for a hundred children!” He attempts to laugh hoping for her to follow suit; her cries only became deeper.

“You deserve....a strong, courageous, and...a beautiful child.” Jaime removes his hand and leans back to his chair in the proper position and stares at her.

“Is that what this foolishness is about?”

“Foolishness? What is foolishness is me not realizing this sooner!” Jaime’s befuddlement raises as her crying stops and is replaced with rage.

“Oh Sevens help me.” He mumbles.

“I mean it’s pretty obvious you do not desire to have children with me. And I’m not a fool! You believe any child we sire will be a hideous monster and sully your legacy!” She leaps to her feet towering over him. Jaime knows perfectly well the him of the past, the him before she entered his heart and soul would have agreed and made a knife like wound with an insult of her appearance. Him now? Would not ever consider that. It wounded him to think she believed he was still capable of such thoughts.

“Our children will be strong and courageous. But also beautiful and that beauty will come from you!” He is on his feet too, he goes for her hips, she jerks away.

“You don’t need to be condescending!”

“I’m not!”

“Why does this even matter?” He immediately regrets his words.

“You have no idea. No idea! What it feels like! You and are fucking perfect hair, stunning eyes, chiseled chin...people just look at you and they threw stuff at you! Me? Well long as I can remember I have been teased verbally and physically for my appearance. I act as if it never bothered me but Hells Jaime it did and it does. I don’t think I can reasonably subject a child to that. Even with your looks mixed in. It won’t be enough to undo this ugliness.” She begins to cry again, Jaime this time successfully is able to make contact and pulls her into him.

“I wish I knew what to say. Besides I’m sorry for being apart of those jabs. But you are stronger then this. I know that you know that Brienne.” She shrugs.

“It’s not just my appearance.’ She takes a breath before pulling back from his embrace. ‘You don’t have to lie or keep stringing me along. We should dissolve this.” That damn word again!

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have children with you because I’ll lose my fucking mind with the stubbornness they’ll surely gain from you! For the final time what are you talking about?! When have I ever given any indication I was unhappy with you? With us?!”

“You think I’m stupid. Don’t say a word! You think I don’t overhear conversations and talk. This place isn’t as large as you tend to believe it is nor are you as soft spoken as I’m imagine you think you are. I have heard you speaking about the mere idea of having children a few days back. With Stefan I do believe it was? When asked by him if you were having any I saw you make a face and shrugged. And then when he made a quip of yeah looking at your woman I don’t blame you. What did you do? You laughed.” Jaime clenches his eyes tight, pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a few calming breaths.

“You didn’t hear all the conversation.”

“I heard and saw enough Jaime.”

“So you saw me slap him and swore to him if he ever even thought anything like that again let alone said it I would skewer him upon my sword?”

“No.” Comes softly.

“Exactly. And I wasn’t making a face because I did not want children; I was making one because I’m tired of discussing the matter with strangers! Ever since the decree was lifted and this allowance of all children I have been questioned relentlessly over it! I should have been discussing it with you it would appear.”

"Fine. Tell me now, how do you feel about it?"

"I do want children. I'd be lying if I didn't relieve to you I'm scared though."

"The same as my fears?"

"What? Gods no! Brienne you need to let that go!' She mutters, he know it's best not to call her out over it. 'I have experienced the pain of losing children, all three of mine. And though I was not their father in the traditional sense I did love them. The death of a child no matter the circumstance is the worse anguish you could ever imagine. My name or things done in my name has made many enemies for generations long. I'm scared I won't be able to protect any child we have from a father or mother seeking revenge for those sins. My heart is almost scarred from that pain; but you my dear? I could not bear to see you endure anything like it." Before he knows it Brienne has her arms draped around his neck, kisses his forehead.

"Please forgive me, I never considered that. And it's honorable you wish to protect me. But what you speak of is out of our control. Of course we all take all precautions to keep them safe, at the end of the day we just need faith in the Seven.' Jaime wiggles from her hold, places his lone hand on his hip. Smirking. 'What?"

"I thought you didn't want children with me. I thought you wanted to end our relationship to allow me from the freedom to fuck some North whore..."

"Jaime!"

"Of course you worded it far nicer. The sentiment was still there though. And now you're willing and ready?" Brienne exhales deeply.

"I'm scared too Jaime. Of those fears I mentioned; you really can not stand there and say or think I'm overreacting when you did not yourself experience the taunts. And yes I agree this world even with the peace this year is a tentative and dangerous place. There is still beauty and light. I want to help create more light." It is now Brienne surprised by Jaime kissing her hard, desperate, but as always gently.

"So I can't hook up with a Nor..."

"Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"Sorry my love. But I no longer wish to date you." Brienne jerks back, eyes wide.

"But I thoug...' She seizes talking and breathing all together as Jaime lowers himself to one knee and stares up at her; with a look that melts her every time.

"I don't have a ring on me, I promise one day soon I'll get you all the jewels and gold I can lay my hands on..."

"I don't care about that."

"I know. Now shush I'm trying to propose here!"

"Of course, go right ahead,"

'Well you sort of ruined the moment!' He stands back up laughing softly, she echos it back.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Gods yes Jaime! Yes, I will marry you."

"Oh! Really?!' Her laugh now he is sure all the Kingdoms could hear. 'I mean don't get me wrong but you were the one started this conversation by telling me you wanted to break up. You can understand my confusion."

"Your lucky I love you."

"And why is that?"

"Because if I didn't you'd surely be dead right now."

"Oh I'm positive you would have killed me a thousand times before now. And this why I know our child or children will be the fiercest creatures ever. If they are even a fraction like either of us that's a force no one will dare tussle with!"

"I can only hope. Um do you think we should...um?" Brienne finds herself growing embarrassed.

"Do I think we should try to make a baby? Hells yeah!'

"It may not happen right away. Or at all."

"It will. Because the Gods will know that we are worthy to be the carriers of more light." Brienne's lips fall onto his one more and gently guides her to their bed.

+++The End+++

[coffincoffer]

Black Sheep Characters: Anatoly

Basic

First name: Anatoly

Surname: Monroe

Middle name: James

Nicknames: Tolya

Date of birth: December 13th    

Age: 20

Physical Appearance

Height: 6”2’

Weight:

Hair: Black, shaved.

Eyes: Sharp, intelligent, accusatory. Blue color.

Distinguishing facial features: Chiseled jaw, feline eyes.

Facial feature most prominent: Cheekbones.

Bodily feature most prominent: His muscles.

Skin: Pale, rough, scarred, and tattooed. Four black bands on each lower arm.

Hands: Strong, kind of boney, and scarred.

Scars: Left lower lip, right eyebrow, knuckles on both hands, long one on his right side by his hip.

Birthmarks: None.

Physical handicaps: None.

Type of clothes: All black, ripped jeans, wife beaters, combat boots.

How do they wear their clothes: Thrown on, kind of ruffled.

What are their feet like: Combat boots, work boots.

Race / Ethnicity: Caucasian, part Russian.

Personality

Words or phrases they overuse: He likes to say shitfuck a lot and when he wants to deflect a question, he shoots out random facts.

Optimistic or pessimistic: Very much pessimistic but will surprise people when he is optimistic.

Ever put on airs: No,

What makes them laugh out loud: When people surprise him in big ways. Other than that, he just smirks a lot.

Display affection: He’s not a touchy-feely kind of person so he will be touchy-feely with them.

Mental Handicaps: Depression and he runs away at the small sign someone is going to do him wrong or will do him wrong. This stems from his parents abandoning him.

Want to be seen by others: He doesn’t care about what other people think about him.

See themselves: A rebellious, tough young adult that doesn’t give two shits about much.

Seen by others: Dangerous, feral, looks for fights.

Strongest character trait: Moral character.

Weakest character trait: Runs at the moment he suspects someone is going to do him wrong.

Competitive: Only when it comes to racing.

Make snap judgments or take time to consider: Makes snap judgments but takes time to consider with serious details.

React to praise: A little boastful but brushes it off.

React to criticism: Completely ignores it like he didn’t even hear it or will flip them off.

Greatest fear: Learning about his parents and why they abandoned him.

Biggest secrets: He’s pretty open and doesn’t like to keep secrets, thinking that he’ll owe people if he does.

Their philosophy of life: Cigarettes, Vodka, and Ink.

Last time they cried: 12th birthday when he learned he was adopted by Dom and the Monroe family.

Haunts them: Who his parents are.

They stand up for: His friends, family, and the weaker.

Who they quote: George Orwell, himself, other obscure references.

Indoorsy or outdoorsy: A mix of both.

Sinful little habit: Picking fights, and a copious amount of Vodka.

Sense they most rely on: Smell.

They treat people better than them: He doesn’t let them see his insecurities and acts like he’s just like them.

They treat people worse than them: He doesn’t believe anyone his worse than him.

Quality they most value in a friend: Trust.

They consider an overrated virtue: Valiance.

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be: Nothing, he thinks he’s fucking perfect.

Obsession: Reading weird facts.

 Friends and Family

Family big or small: It’s about a medium size and the only real family members are Dom and Sergey.

Consist of: Dom, the father figure, Sergey, the brother, Jamison, the clown, and Rac, the stern.

Perception of family: Pretty bad but Dom and Sergey are slowly changing it.

Siblings: Sergey is his older adoptive brother.

Describe their best friend: Trea is always there for him and forces him to do things he would never admit.

Ideal best friend: Doesn’t really have one, they just have to be loyal and trustworthy.

Describe their other friends: Trea is really his only friend, he just plays nice with some other people.

Describe their acquaintances: He doesn’t like having acquaintances, “They can’t be trusted”.

Any pets: A 150lb German Sheppard named Saint.

 Past and Future

Like as a baby: Adventurous, faster learner than everyone else.

As a child: Rambunctious, trouble-maker.

Grow up rich or poor: In the middle, Dom owns his own tattoo parlor and Sergey owns his own bookstore.

Grow up nurtured or neglected: Very much nurtured but learning of being adopted made things harder for him.

Most offensive thing they ever said: He says a lot of random curse word sentences.

Greatest achievement: Admission to college.

First kiss like: Hasn’t had a serious one yet, only ones from when he was a kid and kisses either Dom or Sergey.

Worst thing they did to someone they loved: Nothing, he would never hurt someone who loved him because he cherishes them.

Ambitions: Get his license to become a tattoo artist.

Advice would they give their younger self: Nothing.

Smells that remind them of their childhood: Old and new books, cigarette smoke, warm dinners, and ink.

Childhood ambition: Grow up to become like Dom.

Best childhood memory: All the time he spent with Dom and Sergey.

Worst childhood memory: Learning he was adopted.

Imaginary childhood friend: A blob shadow that lurked under his bed and protected him from Mr. Sandman.

The last time they were crushed with disappointment: When he learned about the adoption.

Past act they are most ashamed of: None.

Past act they are most proud of: Getting into college.

Anyone ever saved their life: Sergey saved him when he was a kid from almost drowning in a pool.

Strongest childhood memory: Every Sunday him, Dom, and Sergey had picnics for lunch.

 Love

Believe in love at first sight: Hell no.

In a relationship: “With my hand” as he likes to say.

Behave in a relationship: He doesn’t really know how since he’s never had one.

Last have sex: Never.

Sort of sex they have done: None.

Ever been in love: Nope.

Ever had their heart broken: Not by a lover, when he learned he wasn’t Dom’s real kid and Sergey ’s biological brother.

 Conflict

Respond to a threat: With fists and cutting words.

Most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue: Both, his tongue while using his fists.

Kryptonite: Trea and family.

Could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be: His sketchbook.

Perceive strangers: Cautiously and like they’re dangerous.

Love to hate: Everyone and everything.

Phobias: Heights.

Choice of weapon: Brass knuckles, karambit.

Person do they most despise: His parents.

Ever been bullied or teased: Once, he beat those kids up.

Go when they’re angry: He drives around on his bike, usually at night or will sit in the tattoo shop just watching everyone.

Enemies: Calvin Goose and his two friends.

Why: They get into fights all the time.

 Work, Education, and Hobbies

Think about their current job: He loves it; he works at the front desk of Sergey’s bookstore.

Hobbies: Drawing, fighting, basketball, reading.

Educational background: Graduated high school and is attending college.

Work experience/occupation: Bookstore and sometimes the front desk at the tattoo parlor.

 Favorites

Favorite animal: German Sheppard.

Animal they dislike the most: Cockroaches.

Place they would most like to visit: Russia or Ireland.

Most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen:     Falling Haven Sunrises.

Favorite song: A lot of rock and dubstep.

Music, art, reading preferred:

Favorite color: White.

Password: NumbNuts666

Favorite food: Pizza.

Favorite work of art: Anything Dom creates.

Favorite artist: Dom and Sergey.

Favorite day of the week: Saturday.

 Possessions

In their fridge: Everyday things.

On their bedside table: Phone,     keys, clock, lamp.

In their car: He drives a     motorcycle.

In their purse or wallet: Debit card, credit card, and a few other things.

In their pockets: Phone, keys, cigarettes, lighter, wallet.

Most treasured possession: Saint and his adoption papers.

 Spirituality

Character’s guardian angel: Sam Cassian.

Believe in the afterlife: Agnostic.

They think of religion: “You do you, I don’t care”.

What they think heaven is: A boring place for losers.

They think hell is: A place he ’s probably going.

Superstitious: He lives in a town mostly populated by Supernatural beings.

Like to be reincarnated as: A dog.

Like to die: In no pain.

Character’s spirit animal: A guard dog.

 Values

Worst thing that can be done to a     person: Break their mind and will.

View of ‘freedom’: Doing whatever he wants that’s somewhat within the law.

Last lie: He lied to Trea about getting along with Ada and Erin.

View of lying: Do it only when necessary or if to deflect a situation.

Last make a promise: To Trea, promising that he won’t lie to himself.

Keep or break their last promise: Oh, definitely break.

 Daily life

Eating habits: He eats whatever he wants.

Any allergies: Normal allergies.

Describe their home: He and his family live in the apartment above the tattoo shop.

Minimalist or a clutter hoarder: Everything is clean except for his studio, which is a complete disaster.

Do first thing on a weekday morning: Shower before either going to school or work.

Do on a Sunday afternoon: Usually playing basketball with Trea or lounging at the tattoo shop.

Do on a Friday night: Out roaming the streets, either people watching or looking for a fight.

Soft drink of choice: Root Beer.

Alcoholic drink of choice: Vodka.

 Miscellaneous

Character archetype: Rebel.

Their hero: Dom, and later on, Erin.

Dress up as for Halloween: Original Mad Max or the Trapper from Dead by Daylight.

Comfortable with technology: Yes, but not a guru.

Could save one person: Probably Erin, since that’s what he tries to do.

Call one person for help: Dom.

Favorite proverb: Doesn’t have one.

Greatest extravagance: His motorcycle.

Greatest regret: Doesn’t have any.

Perception of redemption: Hates the idea.

Won the lottery: He wouldn’t do anything differently, probably donate it.

Favorite fairytale: Dracula, even though it’s not a fairy tale.

Fairytale they hate: Anyone with a happy ending.

Believe in happy endings: No, he despises them.

Their idea of perfect happiness: Doesn’t believe in it.

Ask a fortune teller: Is David Bowie jamming it up with Michael Jackson in heaven?

Could travel through time: He’d go to ancient Rome to watch the Colosseum fights.

Sport they excel at: Basketball and MMA.

Sport they suck at: Soccer.

[the-marvel-imagines-blog]

Lost and Found (Chapter 2)

Requests are OPEN

[x] - requested by @iamthemaskhewears

Pairing: Tony Stark x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7,603

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death, Drunk!Tony, Drunken Flirting  

@iamthemaskhewears​ @thevanishedillusion​

A/N: I wanted to have this posted a week ago, but between moving things into my new home and working, I haven’t had much time to write. Still, I really hope you enjoy it because I’m having so much fun writing it. Much Love. -Ellie

Chapter 2: My Purpose

My eyes opened to the beautiful and bright morning sun bleeding through the window and casting itself onto the walls on the other side of the room. The familiar pair of strong arms were wrapped tightly around my waist as he held my body tightly against his own. My head rested against his naked chest as my hair sprawled out over his chest and my arm, which was draped ever so delicately over his stomach. A light dusting of chest hair had grown a bit, but I knew he would end up taking care of that sometime in the next few days to be sleek and without a trace of imperfection. Damn, that man was beautiful. From the chiseled jawline to those deep and soft brown eyes that hid a fire behind them. He was passionate in all aspects of his life, which I always joked was because of that Latino fire. However, that passion made him the perfect agent, the perfect partner, and one hell of a lover. The sun reflected perfectly off his warm golden bronze skin like it had only been made to do that one thing. I knew Thor, and I had come across Loki on the helicarrier. I knew what God’s looked like. Not many people could really hold a candle to them, but Ezra could. I was reminded of it that morning as I took in how close to perfect my life was.

That was until I saw the time. Six o’clock. I knew he liked to have time to shower, get dressed, and spend some personal time with me. However, I felt so guilty about having to wake him up. I wondered if he felt the same way when he did it to me, even though I doubted it because there were some late mornings when I’d sleep in, and he would run into the bedroom and jump onto the bed in an attempt to wake me up. A sly smile spread across my face as I swung my leg over his body and hoisted myself up to straddle his hips. I leaned down and began peppering his face with kisses, his stubble tickling my cheeks. He groaned as his eyes slipped open to take in the rays of the sun that continued to bleed into the room. After a “busy” night, neither one of us wanted to wake up with the sun, but he had to take off earlier than I did that morning, “come on, Ezra. It’s time to start the day” I urged him as I ran my fingers through his thick, dark brown hair.

He sucked in a deep breath and stretched out beneath me, “do I have to wake up?” he asked, his eyes closing again. I knew he wasn’t falling back asleep because his hand trailed up my thigh and disappeared beneath the white t-shirt I had thrown on just before falling asleep. His slender fingers danced across the skin of my abdomen, but I knew he wouldn’t venture much higher. If he did, we’d both be late.

One of my hands was pressed firmly against his abdomen as I kept myself balanced, and the other stroked his forearm. I nodded my head, “I’m afraid so. You have work today”

He pouted out his bottom lip for a moment before bringing his free hand up to his ear using his fingers as if they were a telephone. His dark brown eyes fluttered open again as he stared at me with that “Latino fire” I teased him about time and time again. It was this hunger that just never seemed to die down, but it was what kept me on my toes, “hello, work? I can’t come in today, I’m spending the day in bed with my beautiful, sexy, goddess of a girlfriend. Thank you. Click”

I laughed, falling back onto the bed with him, “I don’t think that’s how it works”

He shrugged his broad shoulders as he rolled over so his body was facing mine. I did the same thing, and we just laid like that in a moment of uninterrupted silence. I had the chance to take him in before he woke up, but he always did the same thing to me. It was like we were reminding ourselves of just how lucky we both were to wake up with the other next to our side. I knew that he felt the same way about me as I did him. He felt just as lucky to have me in his life as I felt to have him in mine, and he didn’t let me forget it. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine in a short yet passionate kiss. Those kisses just reminded me that he was my person. When he pulled away, he stared down at me and sighed, “I just don’t want to play politics at the Triskelion today if the other option would be to stay here and spend some quality time with you”

“Pierce is meeting with the world security council today, and we’re launching project Insight” I said, knowing that going to work today was going to be difficult. Telling him about my recent nightmares wouldn’t help the situation either. I was always afraid to lose him, so why should this be any different? We risked our lives all the time, and I couldn’t jeopardize all we had worked for because I had a few bad dreams. It was probably nothing, and I didn’t want to worry him over something insignificant. I ran a hand through his hair again, basking in the softness of his dark brown curls, “I know that Steve isn’t a bad guy, so whatever story they’re trying to spin-that he had some part to play in Fury’s death-it’s all bullshit to me. You’re the only person I trust to find out what’s really going on. They need you there today. A lot of the agents look up to you”

He chuckled, “no pressure”

“I would trade places with you if I could. I don’t really want to go to the Academy, but Agent Weaver specifically asked for my assistance” I confessed, thinking of how unimportant my assignment would end up being in comparison to his. He knew how much I loved being in the thick of it, and if anything did go down-like my dreams suggested-I wanted to face the brunt of it. Another reason why I didn’t want to leave was because of Steve. He was still somewhere close by, and this entire ordeal revolved around him. He was a fugitive at this point, and I just wanted to make sure he was brought home safe. He wasn’t a murderer, and he wasn’t the man other members of S.H.I.E.L.D. were trying to spin him as. I just wanted to make sure he was taken care of, and I couldn’t do that from the Academy.

He smiled, “of course she did. Why wouldn’t you be her number one choice to address the students? I mean, you were one of the best and the brightest to go through the Academy. Plus, you’re the only living agent who’s worked this close with the Avengers”

I lowered my eyes, thinking of the man who built me into the agent I was today, thinking of the sacrifices he made for me and for the organization, “it’s all thanks to Agent Coulson”

Without missing a beat, he changed the subject, “so, I was thinking-”

RING!

Without warning, I woke up to the ringing of the telephone. It was one of those recurring dreams-one of the ones that wouldn’t go away no matter how much I begged and pleaded for them to. There came a point when I desperately didn’t want to fall asleep because of the anticipation of seeing his face again, knowing that it was the last morning we would spend together. The start to the day when my whole world fell apart, and I could do nothing to stop it. When the phone rang again, I groaned and looked over at the clock to see that it was only a few minutes until three o’clock. Who was calling at this time of the night? The only thing I could think of was that it was Tony accidentally drunk calling me. Even when he was having a panic attack this early in the morning, he would refrain from calling me, thinking that he was somehow a burden when he did that. I wanted to be there for him during times like that, though. Before the phone could wake up Aurora, I answered it, bringing it up to my ear and closing my eyes once more, “hi, Tony. What’s up?”

The person on the other line cleared his throat, and I could tell right away that it wasn’t Tony before he even spoke, “you told me to call you if I needed anything, and there is a very major crisis that calls for your attention” Vision said in a calm yet…worried voice.

I shot up from bed, completely awake and with no signs that I had recently been sleeping. The fear that something terrible had happened to the man I was charged with-the man who meant more to me than so many other people-was overwhelming. My heart began to pound in my chest, thudding violently against my ribs until it physically hurt. Every bone in my body began to ache as my lungs tightened and reduced the amount of oxygen intake. It didn’t matter anyway because I couldn’t even think about breathing. Everything stopped as my mind raced with different scenarios just like the last day. Reliving that nightmare was inevitable in times like this, when I thought I would lose everything again, but I had to fight through it for the sake of the people I cared for, “is Tony okay?” I asked, my voice barely producing a whisper. Following my question, there was silence on the other side of the line for a prolonged moment, during which my mind only raced even more. I could only think of the crushing weight of the world on my shoulders on the last day, how it felt to be in no control of anything, what it felt like to lose everything I ever worked for-everything I ever loved. That mix of anger and sadness propelled me forward in the silence, “Vision, is Tony okay?!” I asked again, my voice much louder and more urgent than the first time.

“I feel…worried. Mr. Stark hasn’t returned home from the gala, and he left nearly nine hours ago. I don’t know where he could be or if he is even okay. I was advised not to leave the house unaccompanied, but he isn’t answering his phone” he explained

I stood up from the bed, pulling my long t-shirt down to cover my red panties. I tried to think of all the logical scenarios to try and calm him down. Even though I desperately needed sleep, I was trying to think of the most probable situation Tony could’ve been in. My maternal instincts kicked in at the weirdest times, but Vision was still a child with an limitless mind and a synthetic body. It always surprised me that he couldn’t run these analyses’ on his own, but I knew that his emotions got in the way of him doing that. When it came to his team, he cared so deeply. Tony was very special to him, and I knew that it was because the relationship J.A.R.V.I.S. had with Tony was still lingering there. Vision didn’t know where these feelings came from, but he embraced them because it made him feel close to human. I took a deep breath as my mind came to the most likely solution and the one that would cause the least amount of pain to think about. While it would still bother me, I’d rather it be true than him being taken away and sold into the black market, “okay, Vision, listen, there is a chance he went home with someone else, and-”

He cut me off, clearly having thought through that scenario on his own already, but he came to no reasonable conclusions, “no, because he would’ve at least called me or you to say something about it or just to tell us where he was going” he explained, reassuring me of the one reason that made the possibility completely improbable. Tony would’ve called us to tell us where he was going. No matter how drunk he was, he would’ve made a phone call to gloat that he was on his way to sleep with someone, but he always let us know. Vision continued, “he also confided in me earlier this week that he hasn’t been with any woman since Ms. Potts and that he has no desire to; although, his actions toward you and in any situation involving you seem to contradict the claim”

My breath caught in my throat as my eyes widened, “that’s…more than I needed to hear, but okay” I murmured, trying to convince myself that it was impossible for Vision to have picked up on those things. I noticed every detail when it came to my interactions with Tony, but to go so far as to say he wanted to sleep with me was…asinine. There was also the possibility that Tony said something about it to him. Regardless, I had to move on, “listen, V, you can’t leave the house without someone with you, especially if you’re planning on walking the streets to find him. It’s just not safe for you, and people may not be too understanding of what you are and why you’re different”

He huffed, which was something so similar to what J.A.R.V.I.S. would’ve done if he had the capacity to do so. He was the sassiest and wittiest AI I had ever had the privilege of knowing, and Vision’s mannerisms were so much like the ones I figured J.A.R.V.I.S. would have if he were human, “I need answers as to where Mr. Stark is. Whether I have to find him myself or you go looking for him, one of us will need to figure out what’s going on because I cannot and will not sit at this mansion anymore, wondering what has happened”

“Like I said before, it’s probably nothing” I tried to soothe him, but I knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied with the response, just like I wasn’t. I was just as worried as he was, but I just showed my fears in a different way. Being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent taught me to be scared of nothing, and if I was, to tuck it away and forget about it for the sake of the mission. Being a mother taught me that I would be scared of everything that involved my daughter, but my job was to tuck it away for her sake as well as for my own sanity. This was another one of those times when my maternal instincts kicked in. It felt like Vision needed comfort, and I was trying to soothe him the best way I could over the phone even while I was freaking out internally about the situation, “just give me 40 minutes, and I’ll be there”

There was the slightest pause on the other end of the line before he spoke, “I’ll come to you. It’ll be much quicker”

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering how he completely glossed over what I told him before about not leaving without someone else. I shook my head, “no, Vision, that’s-” I was cut off when the other end went dead, and I realized what had happened. I pulled the phone away from my ear to see that the call had ended, and it wasn’t because of me. My jaw hung slack as it finally sunk in what happened and what he did, “that little shit hung up on me” I murmured under my breath, knowing that he wouldn’t be hearing the last of it from me. Either way, I couldn’t stop him once he left, and I was sure he was already out the door. That little whimper from the room right next to mine reminded me why I never invited anyone over, why I always found every reason not to ask Tony to stay the night when I desperately needed someone. No one knew about Aurora aside from a small handful of people who made sure that she stayed well hidden from the rest of the Avengers and the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D.. It was what kept me alive for so long. Too many times, the lives of loved ones were jeopardized by the enemy to force the hand of loyal agents, and I had lost too much to lose her as well. Even though I trusted Vision with my life, I could trust no one with hers. I didn’t even trust myself with her because the people I loved the most had a tendency to die pretty gruesome deaths. As Aurora started to cry, I let out a yawn and padded along the floor into the nursery, “it’s okay, pumpkin. Mommy’s here” I murmured, seeing her tiny body writhe around in the crib. Milo, our little black lab puppy, sat directly in front of the crib. The two of them were inseparable. Bandit was the protector, Rudy was the lover, and Milo was somewhere in the middle. He always slept at the foot of her crib, and if I didn’t make it to her in the first few cries, he would find me wherever I was in the apartment, and he would gnaw on my shoes until I went to her.

Before I even had the chance to pick her up, I just knew that it was because of a dirty diaper. The first time she woke me up in the night was because she was uncomfortable and just needed someone to hold her, and the second time was always for a diaper change. Then, we’d always end up cuddling in the rocking chair for a little while as I talked to her or sang a few songs. She had such a phenomenal temperament for a baby, crying only when she needed to eat or needed a diaper change. If she wanted anything else, she would just start babbling. There were times when she’d pull herself up into a standing position, and she’d fall back down without any tears, which I always thought was rather odd for an eight month old. She really was just the perfect baby. I reached down and ran a hand through Milo’s jet black fur, wanting to praise him for sitting with Aurora, “good job, buddy” I murmured as he twisted his head to lick my hand. I smiled down at him before lifting Aurora up into my arms. I carried her over to the changing table that my father built for her. Because we lived on a farm in Kansas, he was always working with his hands. Whenever things broke or the house needed remodeling, it was my dad who fixed it. He was the greatest farmer, carpenter, friend, and father I could ever ask for. When I told my parents that I was pregnant, they both went all out. He built the crib, the rocking chair, the changing table, and the dresser. When I found out that I was having a little girl, my mom splurged and bought so many decorations and toys while my older brothers, Jackson, Garrett, and Carter, bought enough clothes to last her until she was 5 years old. Saying she was spoiled by the family was an understatement, but it all came from a place of unconditional love.

In the process of changing her dirty diaper, I tried thinking of how to pass her off as a niece or the daughter of a friend Vision just never heard about. I had no real friends outside of the Avengers. With Coulson still playing dead, I couldn’t have much contact with him without sparking some suspicion from Tony, and that was the last thing my mentor wanted. Coulson had said time and time again that he didn’t want the Avengers to know that he was alive, especially after finding out about what it was that kept him alive. Daisy and I were the only ones to know about that. Tony and Bruce would ask too many questions about how he managed to make it out alive, and Coulson had a hard time lying to the people he cared about the most. Hiding wasn’t lying, though, but he still felt guilty for it. Even though we were walking on thin ice, we couldn’t go too long without seeing each other, and in doing so, I had grown closer to his “team of misfits.” A piece of me was happy simply because he was happy. He was one of the best friends I ever had, and all I wanted was for him to feel fulfilled in his life. His small team allowed him to thrive after losing everything, and I would support him in every decision because he had a very special place in my heart. He helped me more than I ever could’ve imagined when I was pregnant with Aurora, and the unbelievable debt I owed him tripled in size during that period of time. Coulson, Fury, Maria Hill, and Melinda May were the only ones who knew about Aurora. Coulson’s team only knew that I had a daughter, but they didn’t know any other details. The Avengers knew absolutely nothing, and I had to keep it that way. While I wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed of having an eight month old daughter at 25 years old myself, I couldn’t risk telling Vision that she was, in fact, mine. Perhaps, I could pass her off as my niece, but then I would have to come up with a reason as to why she was in Thousand Oaks with me while the rest of my family was in Ulysses, Kansas. Maybe he would fall for a story that she was just visiting for a few weeks. The rest of my family was supposed to be coming up soon, so he wouldn’t be too suspicious.

Once her diaper was changed, I lifted her tiny body into my arms, and I carried her over to the rocking chair. As I rocked back and forth in a fluid motion, I cradled her small body in my arms, still wondering how I got so lucky to have the most perfect and beautiful little girl in my life. She gazed up at me with those big brown eyes that I woke up to for years-his eyes. Whenever I looked at her, I couldn’t help but realize that she was the embodiment of all his kindness, love, and grace. He would’ve loved her so much, more than anyone else could’ve because she was his little girl. He would’ve looked at her the same way my father looked at me, like I was the first sunrise after years of darkness. My finger ghosted across her temple as she closed her eyes again, ready to fall back asleep. While she would’ve been fine if I put her back in the crib, I didn’t want to leave her just yet. With it being Saturday, I knew that it would be a long day of work, and she’d be left with Erin, the babysitter. The 15 year old girl was extremely patient with both Aurora and I, and she was incredibly polite. She treated Aurora as more of a baby sister than anything else, which made leaving the two of them alone together easier. I began humming the same lullaby my birth mother sang to me as I was growing up. It was an old Chinese lullaby her mother sang to her and so on.

After ten minutes of singing the same song, Aurora was fast asleep, and I heard soft footsteps on the hardwood floor outside the room. I knew it had to be Vision, and I could think of nothing else to do except sit in the chair and continue rocking her. All the thought that went into potentially hiding her just went out the window because I couldn’t bring myself to move just yet. She was just so peaceful, and I didn’t want to risk waking her up. His tall and lanky body stepped into the doorway and faced the two of us. I knew that he wanted to compliment the song I had been singing quietly but before he could say a single word, his mechanical and bright blue eyes caught sight of the child in my arms. His eyes widened, and his eyebrows raised up in clear amazement. It was as if the pieces of the puzzle were forming in his mind as the confusion melted away, “oh, that’s a little human…a baby” he said, trying to find the right word.

I held up my hand, ready to start the lie I had been working on, “listen, V, I can explain what-”

He cut me off, knowing exactly what I was going to do. It was like the relationship I shared with the AI he inherited just transferred over to Vision and I, like we picked up where we left off. J.A.R.V.I.S. always just knew what kind of mood I was in, and he knew my little mannerisms. Even though Vision was only two months into his life, he could still pick up on the subtle pieces of my personality, including how my mood changed right before I was about to lie, “she’s your daughter” he stated, taking in the new piece of information without a hint of anger, confusion, or disbelief. It was just a new truth in this world, and it didn’t phase him whatsoever. As he stared down at the baby in my arms, the hint of a smile formed on his face. His gaze didn’t lock with mine again, but I watched as he came alive right in front of my eyes, “the little human is your daughter”

Driving around Los Angeles at five in the morning had to be my least favorite part of the job. It wasn’t a part of the description, either. Driving around in the early hours of the morning to look for your boss while your eight month old baby was being cared for by a synthetic man because there was no way you’d risk bringing her into some of the sketchier parts of the city was the farthest thing from my job description. From half past three in the morning, I was driving around and looking for Tony, but the longer I drove, the angrier I became. It was partially because of the lack of sleep for months along with his complete disregard for the other people in his life who cared about him. Every bar I drove by, I slowed down just to check the alleyways to make sure he wasn’t passed out drunk. Scenario after scenario ran through my mind, and the worst ones lingered like they were teasing me and reminding me of just how bad my life could get…just like they did on the last day. I was terrified every time I turned a corner or looked down one of the alleyways because I couldn’t find him dead. I had lost too much to lose him, too.

Taking a right turn from Yucca onto Vine, I only had to drive a few hundred feet to reach Avalon Hollywood, the next place on my list. He had talked about wanting to go a few times before, but I couldn’t spare the time to go out clubbing with him when I could barely make time to be with my daughter. There came a point when drinking and partying wasn’t a responsible thing to do, and when you were a single mother, it wasn’t much of an option. Once again, I slowed down outside the nightclub, but it didn’t take nearly as long to notice the man slouched against the wall clad in the tuxedo I had picked out for him. My whole heart felt like it leaped into my throat, and my chest tightened. I was out of the car before it even stopped, my feet hitting the ground almost as fast as my heart thudding against my ribs, which would surely cave due to the immense pressure, “oh my god” I breathed out as I fell to my bare knees in front of him, scraping them on the sidewalk. It didn’t phase me because of the adrenaline, though. I lifted his head up from its relaxed position, only to see that there was still color in his face and that he was still breathing. That fear and worry didn’t subside as quickly as I thought it would. There would be time later to be angry with him or to vent to my mom about it, but I couldn’t focus on anything other than taking care of him in that moment. When it all started to come together, it was obvious that he had been thrown out of the nightclub, and I was sure that it was because he got too drunk and started to cause a scene. Tony was all about going hard or going home, and he never planned on going home. He always gave 110% to everything he did, and that included drinking.

I brushed the messy, dark brown hair away from his face, running the tips of my fingers along his jawline once I could finally see him clearly. My stomach twisted up into a knot, and I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his as a way of bringing myself back into the present. With all the worrying I had done about him, it was good to know that he was alive and unharmed, and I had to remind myself of that simple fact. I didn’t lose him. He was sitting right in front of me. As I combed my fingers through his hair once more, his eyes fluttered open, and he stared into mine, a dumb grin spreading across his face, “you came!” he beamed with pride.

“To bring you back home” I clarified, helping him up off the ground.

He shook his head, “but I want to stay. My friends are inside, and they want to party with me some more” he slurred, trying to get away from me without success. When he was this drunk, he was sloppy and weaker than usual. We had sparred a few times before, and he always pulled his punches when it came to me, but I never backed down, wanting to show him that I was fit for this job. No matter how many times I told him I could handle it, he wouldn’t risk hurting me. In his weakened state, it was easier to guide him over to the car, and he only fought back long enough to figure out that I wasn’t budging on the matter.

I laid him down in the backseat, making sure his feet were in properly before I closed the door. I just stared at him through the tinted window as his eyes closed once more, ready to fall asleep again. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought of all the potential that was lost because of his behaviors. He would drink himself to death one day, and that was what scared me the most. The thought of going through the rest of my life without one of his witty comments or one of his warm embraces caused the tears. I couldn’t imagine facing the world without him because he was the one person who tore down the walls I built after the last day and saw me for who I really was. As I stared at the man in the backseat of my car, my heart broke because I knew that I wouldn’t be enough to save him from himself.

The guilt I felt for not going with him that night clouded my mind the entire ride back to the mansion. I couldn’t help but think that if I had been there, if I sacrificed my time with Aurora, maybe things wouldn’t have escalated the way they did. Hindsight was 20/20, though. I thought the same thing about the last day. Maybe if I told Agent Weaver I couldn’t go to the Academy, I could’ve gone to the Triskelion with Ezra. Maybe if Ezra went to the Academy instead of me, I could’ve taken his place, and he’d be forced to take on the world without me instead of the other way around. There was always a “what if” or a “maybe” in every bad situation, but my relationship with Tony had always been a “maybe.” As we pulled into the mansion, I shook my head, glancing back at him to see that he was still sleeping. When I put the car in park, I clenched my jaw, “I just don’t know what to do with you anymore, Tony. I don’t know what you want from me” I murmured almost to myself. It wasn’t like he would remember any of this or could even comprehend what I was talking about because he was drunk. This was the perfect time to let out my frustrations that I couldn’t really voice to him when he was sober, “you just don’t get it. You don’t understand, and that’s not entirely your fault. I haven’t talked to you about Ezra, and I haven’t talked about my birth parents. You just don’t know how much I’ve lost and that losing you slowly…like this is bringing back all those memories. Maybe my love just isn’t good enough for you. Maybe I can’t love you enough to make you love yourself, but I’m trying. I’m trying to take care of you and to be here for you, but this was a really hard night for me, Tony. You have no idea how your actions broke my heart, and even if you did, I’m not sure you’d change. I can’t stop caring about you, and that’s the worst part of this. I just get to sit on the sidelines and watch as you tear your life apart”

“If we’re gonna do this, at least take me out to dinner first” he giggled as I pushed him back onto the bed. His shirt had been discarded, and it was time for the pants. Everything was sexual when it came to Tony, whether he was drunk or not. He’d make suggestive comments no matter what the situation. At least sober Tony knew when to stop, but drunk Tony just kept going. If any outside forces had seen what was happening, it could’ve been construed as some very inappropriate behavior between the two of us, but I was trying to keep him from throwing up on his tuxedo. I did not want to be tasked with picking out a new one because he ruined this one, so the best way to avoid that was to get him into pajamas, which would mean stripping him of his tux first.

As I undid the buckle on his pants, he giggled again, and I shook my head, “we’re not doing anything because you’re drunk, and I’m exhausted. I just need to get you into something more…disposable” I clarified, pulling the pants down past his thighs and to his ankles where I could finally pull them off his body. I folded them in half and tossed them over the back of the chair, “just lay there while I pick out a t-shirt and a pair of boxers for you to wear” I said, walking over to the closet. I opened the door and stepped inside, making a beeline for the dresser that had his pajamas.

From the other room, he called out to me again, “you forgot to take off my underwear”

I huffed, thinking of how much better Aurora was when it came to listening to me. While she didn’t understand what I meant, she picked up on what was acceptable and what wasn’t. Drunk Tony wasn’t as perceptive as my eight month old, “I told you five minutes ago that we weren’t taking off your underwear. Do not take them off, Anthony”

Silence.

“Damnit” I growled, sifting through the drawer to find a t-shirt and a pair of boxers that he wouldn’t be skeptical of in the morning. It had to look like something he picked out on his own, so I chose an AC/DC t-shirt and a pair of red boxers. When I finally carried them out to the bedroom, I saw a completely naked man standing with his back toward me. Thank goodness. There were plenty of times when I had seen him…less than decent-times when I saw way more than just his bare backside-but it surprised me every time. I held my hand over my eyes, and I tossed the boxers in his general direction, “Jesus, Tony. Why don’t you listen to me?”

“I was overheating” he claimed in defense of himself. There was a long pause as he struggled to pull on the boxers, but he continued, “plus, I thought we were gonna have sex”

With a roll of my eyes, I finally lowered my hand, “it’s probably a good thing you don’t remember stuff like this” I said, thinking of how embarrassed sober Tony would be if he knew the boundaries drunk Tony completely ignored.

When I finally walked over to him, he stared down at me with that affectionate and curious look in his eyes, like he was in awe of me. He looked at me like that a lot, but I never understood why. The only other man who looked at me that way was Ezra, but it was obvious because we were together for years. Tony was the wham bam, thank you, ma’am type. He didn’t stick around for the serious stuff, and after Pepper and Rhodey, he certainly had little to no trust in anyone else. That made the trust he put in me much more meaningful and surprising. He cocked his head to the side as I unfolded the t-shirt in my hands, “why aren’t we dating?” he asked

I sighed, knowing that it was something that we had both left unsaid. We didn’t talk about whatever it was that was between us, and we never mentioned the potential. I didn’t know what his reasoning was because he always made his desires known. Of course, the flirtation and teasing between us had always been there, but I never thought that he truly wanted something more with me because I was…me. If he knew what he would be signing up for, I was sure he’d give it a second thought, too. I knew him well enough to know that he didn’t want the responsibility of being a father figure to a little girl who would only grow up with a mother. It was too much of a commitment, and I couldn’t be with a man who wasn’t willing to commit. I didn’t want to tie him down and keep him from living the single life, and I couldn’t put Aurora through the potential of having a father figure only to lose him. I chuckled, looking up at him, “we aren’t dating because of shit like this”

“Add a nickle to the swear jar” he remarked

I furrowed my eyebrows, pulling the t-shirt over his head, “we don’t have one”

He scoffed, clearly thinking that the lack of a swear jar was the biggest disappointment of the night, “well, we should have one because I swear, and you swear. We’re all swearing all day long, and every day. Vision thinks about swearing, which should count. We could use it to raise money for charity” he yawned, still tired. It was one thing we had in common. He continued, “you know, I never understood why certain words are more offensive than others. My mom was always offended by the word shit, but I’m not offended by it. Why are…” his voice trailed off as his eyes glossed over, “I think I need to throw up”

I nodded my head, holding onto his body as I guided him into the bathroom. Instead of allowing him to stumble into the bathroom, I wanted to make sure he got there in one piece. As soon as he knelt down in front of the toilet, he buried his head in the bowl and began emptying the contents of his stomach into it. I frowned, wishing that I could help him but knowing that there was nothing I could do other than sit with him like my mom did for me when I was pregnant and experiencing morning sickness. She would just rub circles into my back and sit with me as I threw up. It wasn’t pretty, but she did it because she loved me. It was the same reason why I put up with the sleepless nights and the worrying that came with being a part of Tony’s life. Not all parts were extravagant, but I did them all without a second thought because I cared about him. I got comfortable on the cold marble floor, ready for the long day ahead of us. He would throw up for a while, and he’d pass out in bed for a few hours while I got to work around the house. When he woke up, he’d throw up a little more, but it wouldn’t last for too long. Then, I’d end up making him breakfast to help soothe his nausea, which he would bring down to the workshop to eat in his own company.

When he finally stopped heaving, I reached up and flushed the toilet before pulling him back from the bowl. I wiped his face with a wet washcloth, wanting to keep him as clean as possible during this very messy process. His dark brown eyes locked with mine, and he chewed on his bottom lip, “Pepper never did things like this with me. I would get drunk, and she would just leave because she was mad”

I shrugged my shoulders, “I am mad at you, Tony, but I can’t leave you because I’m pretty sure you’d manage to drown yourself in the toilet while you’re throwing up”

He chuckled, “it’s more than that, though. You care about me the same way I care about you. Pepper didn’t stick around for the things that weren’t very pretty. I know I’m a handful, but…I figured that she would’ve been the one to put up with the baggage I brought to the table. And if not her, I always thought Rhodey would have my back. I always thought if my relationship with Pepper failed, he would step in and support me during the beginning stages of grieving a relationship I was invested in. Ever since that night, I’ve been afraid of the people I suspect least stabbing me in the back. I haven’t wanted to get close to anyone else-to love anyone else-because of what happened” he confessed, opening up to me on a level that would only present itself when he was intoxicated.

I frowned, knowing the kind of pain he went through. He was like me in that he didn’t trust easily to begin with. We had our own reasoning for it, but our inability to freely open up to people was the same. The two people he had known the longest, the people he thought he could trust the most, stabbed him in the back at the same time. Of course, he loved and trusted his teammates on the Avengers, but it was different with Pepper and Rhodey. He knew them before he became Iron Man, before he tried to better himself by giving back to the world, and they hurt him more than anyone else could’ve. I reached out and grasped his hand in mine, stroking his knuckles with my thumb, “there are still people out there who care about you, people who want nothing more than for you to be happy” I explained

“Like the person sitting right in front of me” he murmured, giving my hand a gentle squeeze as his eyes glazed over with tears. He wouldn’t let them fall, but they were noticeable, “when I met you, everything in my life changed. From the start of my relationship with her, I thought that she was the only woman for me because she put up with my habits that annoyed her to no end. You challenge me, and you showed me how wrong I was about her. You taught me what it’s like to have patience, that love doesn’t mean rushing into something just for the sake of being with someone” he swallowed hard, glancing down at the space between us for a long moment as he collected his jumbled thoughts. When he locked eyes with me again, I saw that renewed vigor in them, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sam. I really don’t. Because even in my darkest moments, the times when I don’t want to try anymore, when I think the world would be a better place without me, you’re the reason why I keep going. You’re my purpose”

[this-ginger-has-no-soul]

Ocean soldier (Part 2 out of?)

(A/N): I seriously love mermaid Bucky *sobs* 

Summary: (Y/N) happens to come across a rather friendly mermaid

Warnings: none for the time being?

Read the first part: X

(Tags at the end)

   (This gif has me feeling so many things??) 

   You had been reluctant to go home that day, you had thoroughly enjoyed your visit with Bucky. The two of you talked...well you had done most of the talking while he sat there in the water and looked at you, occasionally grabbing the pad and pencil to write something to you. You had even managed to get him to crack a smile, not one of the small ones from earlier but a full on wide, toothy grin. It had been adorable...at first, that was until you got a glance at his sharp, jagged teeth. They almost reminded you of shark’s teeth only scarier given they were on a human being and not a marine animal. Something about this guy was seriously off, you knew that much, between the webbing and teeth and the constant need to stay in the water you had figured he was...strange to say the least. These should have scared you away, you should have run as soon as he appeared the second time but you didn’t, instead you sat down on the docks and talked to him until he had to abruptly scurry off at the first sign of people. These were all red flags, you should have talked to someone or reported this man to the police and yet again you didn’t and now here you were, the following day sitting on the dock awaiting for your friend to appear. 

   You doodle a bit, no longer focused on the sunrise as much as your water loving friend who had yet to make an appearance this morning. You gently sketched a face, one with a chiseled jaw and high cheekbones, you doodle some hair, long and matted with water but still gorgeous but what you truly focused on was the eyes. They had to be perfect, they had to capture the essence of curiosity and innocence but they also had to have a deeper, darker tone to them, one that implied this man- whomever he was- had a secret, or a darker side. 

   A soft coo is what pulls you away from your drawing but you don’t even have to look up to know it was. You set your drawing pad aside as you smile at Bucky who smiled right back, showcasing those jagged, knife like teeth. 

   “Hey Bucky,” You murmur quietly, as though scared to break the soothing sounds of the early morning sea. Bucky hums softly as he assumes his regular position, his head tucked upon his folded arms as he looks up at you. Your eyes rake over his form, stopping at his neck as you survey the slices of flesh, moving in time with each breath he took. They sure as hell looked like gills...but that- that wasn’t possible, human beings couldn’t have gills...could they?  Bucky hums again as he looks at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. Guess he’d caught your rather curious gaze “Sorry, um uh- I was just staring at your-” You gesture to his neck, sighing rather loudly. “Okay Bucky, what the hell are those things?” Bucky reaches up with a webbed hand to touch the skin, running his fingers along the ripped flesh before setting his hand back against the dock, looking rather sheepish. “Oh god Bucky-” You sigh, knowing you’ve offended him again with your ignorance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just-” You gesture to your own neck, revealing the not ripped flesh. “Mine’s different again, see?” Bucky looks back up, his blue eyes traveling over the expanse of your neck. “Do you...do you wanna touch it?” Bucky nods as he leans up a bit, pulling himself up just enough to expose his bare chest. Your eyes rake over his skin, taking in ever piece of smooth, water covered flesh. God- this man...or whatever he is- was beautiful. 

   Bucky makes a little impatient sound in the back of his throat, making grabby hands at you when he realized he couldn’t quite reach your neck. You smile as you lean down a bit, allowing his cool hands to graze your skin. The feeling was...different than expected; his fingers were cool to the touch and most definitely wet but they felt good against your skin. You hum softly as Bucky touches your neck, feeling the difference between your neck and his own. 

   “See? Different right?” Bucky purses his lips and nods, staring down at his own body in what appeared to be shame. Whatever was below the water he obviously didn’t want you to see, the most he had exposed to you was his upper body and even that was strange, you could only imagine what it looked like down below. “Bucky?” You whisper, biting your lip as you contemplate whether the question was worth asking. The man hums as he finally retracts his hand, apparently satisfied with his little inspection. “Can I ask you something kinda of...personal?” Bucky looks at you with squinted eyes, the distrust on his face obvious but nonetheless he nods. “Um, are you- are you human?” Bucky looks up at you with an almost frightened expression, his eyes wide and lips parted. But before you can even begin to repair the damage he disappears, ducking down below the surface just as he had done yesterday. “Wait Bucky!” You cry out as you lean forward, searching the waters desperately but there was no sign of him, the only thing that would have hinted that he was here was by the way the dock was covered in rivulets of water, most likely from his dripping hair. 

   You slump back onto the dock, looking at the waters in surprise. How could he have just disappeared like that? And why did he just disappear like that? You bite your lip in thought as you scan the waters, waiting for any sign of your new friend but there seemed to be none. Even after five minutes you saw no sign of your friend, then ten rolled around, then 20, then 40, but by the time the beach had started to sprout a family or two you realized Bucky wasn’t coming back. You sighed softly as you stood from the dock, grabbing your sketch pad and pencil in disappointment. As you waddled away from the dock you looked back, hoping to catch some glance of your friend but there was none, only the boats and sea so with another sigh you keep on waddling, trying not to let your spirits hurt too much. 

   You returned the next day, with your sketch pad and pencil, awaiting for Bucky. You waited for 3 fucking hours. 3 hours of just sitting and waiting for Bucky to show up. The sun rose, the people arrived and yet here you were waiting all alone on the docks. 

   You sigh as you drag your pencil along your paper, creating nonsensical lines and scribbles. It looked as though Bucky wasn't going to show this morning and you couldn't help but feel like it was your fault but you'd remedy this, you'd get Bucky to come back around. 

    For the next two weeks you kept up the same routine, showing up with your sketch pad and pencil, waiting for your strange, water loving friend to show but he never did. The countless hours you spent on those docks waiting for him were painful, they have you time to think about him. Even if you had only known him for 3 days you couldn't help but feel attached to him and now suddenly he had disappeared. And yet here you were, the third week, and still sitting on the dock waiting for him. This time you had brought your guitar and you were gently strumming on it, humming a solemn song yourself. If you were going to wait out here for hours on end for your non existent friend to show up you had better bring something to entertain yourself since drawing wasn't doing it for you anymore. 

   You strummed and plucked multiple songs, slowly but surely making your way through every tune you knew how to play. By the time you were done your fingers were aching and the sounds of the beach had gone strong; It had to be noon by the time you finished and surprise, still no sign if Bucky. God- why would he just leave you like this? Why wouldn't he come back or at least tell you why he had left? Perhaps it was you? Maybe he was tired of you and didn't want to see you anymore? Perhaps your insistent questions had angered him? 

   A million questions swirl around your mind until you can barely think anymore, your head to jumbled with "maybe's" and "what if's". God- you had really fucked this up. For once you actually liked someone and then you went and fucked it up. If only you had kept your mouth shut, if only you hadn't been so annoying, if only you could have been better. Tears burn at your eyes and before you know it you're crying, your tears sliding off and hitting the watery docks. You were so pathetic, you knew a guy for 3 days and then he leaves and you're this heart Broken? You bury your face in your hands, crying into them like some pathetic cry baby, which you were; The negative thoughts don’t mix well with your already strong feelings of frustration and regret. 

        Your crying is only spurred on by your negative thoughts, both your frustration and self hate brewing together to create the 'beautiful' mixture of tears you were experiencing right now. And that's when you hear it, a gentle but soothing coo amongst the sound of ocean waves and the distant beach goers. You don't even want to look up for the fear of the noise only being your imagination but suddenly there's that strange but pleasant hand on your leg, gripping your leg gently. The coo comes again, this time a bit louder and persistent, almost as though Bucky was trying to grab your attention. Even with all your frustration and anger you look up, sniffling a bit as you do. 

    "Bucky..." You sniffle softly, hesitantly meeting the man’s gaze. He coos once again, his bright blue eyes very intently looking at your face. You bite your lip as you look at him, feeling even more pathetic than you did before. You can’t look into those ocean eyes any longer, your shame and embarrassment getting the better of you as you turn your head away from him but before you can there’s a gentle hand on your cheek, wiping away at your tears. You look back at Bucky in surprise, his hand feeling pleasant against your own wet cheek. This the most Bucky had ever touched you, other than when he had touched your neck and hands but this was- this was something else; this was more than those observatory touches, this was something more intimate. You sigh softly, allowing your eyes to flutter close as Bucky’s thumb runs over your cheek, collecting each tear that fell- however they don’t remain closed for long when they’re suddenly shooting back open in surprise. 

   “Please don’t cry...” 

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