#it's actually INSANE to me that we just let billions of people walk around in cults under the guise of well the followers dont think so
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it's wild to me how because so many people are part of an organized religion, we're not allowed to call it for what it is (a cult). people will try and defend organized religion against cult allegations like the BITE model isn't readily available for anyone to google.
#it's actually INSANE to me that we just let billions of people walk around in cults under the guise of well the followers dont think so#like you literally have people giving money on a weekly basis kicking or beating their kids for being gay or slutty#people walk around 24/7 wondering whether an invisible sky daddy killed their parents as retribution for their sins#people wear the clothes and eat the things that their so called leaders tell them they should#people sit around debating whether or not its godly to wear fucking make up and have more than one romantic partner in their dating history#people disown family members for not subscribing to their own religion#people will literally lose their entire community once they become an atheist#how is that not a fucking cult pray tell#religion#personal
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Best Friends My Ass (one-shot)
Synopsis: Being in love with your best friend whom you’ve had since childhood can be tough. Being in love and being dumb can make it tougher. Meet the Reader and Harry. They’re the latter. And everyone’s fed up.
Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader
Genre: fluff, maybe little bit of angst, tiny bit smutty, but not a lot
Warnings: swearing, two idiots pining for one another
Word count: 7524
Even when Harry was little, he’d known he’d have an odd path in life. Just because it was odd, didn’t mean it’d be bad, but it would make him absolutely stand out in the crowd. When Y/N was young she didn’t see herself having any extraordinary adventures. Sure, she’d travel and explore the world with its secrets, but she didn’t have any plans to draw the attention of the masses. That was until Harry’d come into her life. They were both young, still kids in that tender age where childhood crossed into teenage years, when they met. For Harry, it was like one of those scenes in the movies where the pretty girl walks into a room and a billion fans make her hair look like the wind is sweeping through it, and her eyes glisten like gemstones. Also known as the 'love at first sight' scene. For Y/N, it was hard to keep her breakfast down as she walked inside the classroom, twenty pairs of scrutinous eyes on her, trying to figure out if the new girl was a predator or prey. Luckily for Y/N, the biology teacher wasn’t a total witch and didn’t make her present herself to the class, and just pointed to the free seat next to a curly-haired boy. Luckily for Harry, that free seat was right next to him. With a sigh, she dropped her heavy backpack beside the chair, giving the boy a shy glance, and was surprised to see a genuine and large grin right back at her. It wasn’t the kind people gave when they had bad thoughts. It was the kind people gave when they were truly excited and wanted to give a good impression. Y/N’s chest grew warm at the thought she might actually make a friend that day. And she did. “I’m Harry.” He extended his hand for her to take, the grin never leaving his face. She gave him a big, relieved smile. “I’m Y/N.” Ever since then they were not only lab partners in classes they shared (which was biology, physics and math), but also in mischief. Together they managed to enrage Anne, annoy Gemma and absolutely horrify Y/M/N, and whenever one went down, the other made sure to go down as well. So when a few years down the line, Harry had told Y/N about his idea to audition for X-factor she wasn’t surprised one bit. “I mean, as long as you don’t trip and break your nose on stage, you’ll be fine.” For that, she received a slap on her arm from him. “I’m just saying!” Y/N defended herself. “You’re great at singing, Mrs Aberdeen certainly thinks so, you don’t have two complete left feet, and you’re alright to look at.” That for the first time since the decision and application had been submitted, made Harry smile. He loved how easily Y/N was able to lighten the mood, to take his thoughts away from the bad, and just erase them with her wit and smile.
“Besides.” She nudged his shoulder with hers and then intertwined their fingers. “I, Gem and our Mums will be right there for you. Won’t even blink until the end of the performance.” With how her insides trembled in excitement and fear for her best friend, it truly seemed to Y/N she hadn’t blinked at all on that fateful day. Her breath hitched when the judges were talking. She couldn’t even remember what they said, all of it turning into white noise. And then he got through, and Y/N screamed so much she was sure she’d blown out Anne’s eardrums, and had hugged Harry so tightly she was afraid she’d broken a rib. But with his victory also came a fear, because, for the first time in Y/N’s life, she was terrified as to where she’d stand in Harry’s. Since day one it’d been secure, but now, with the newfound fame of X-factor and who knows what kind of an amazing future, she didn’t know if he’d throw her to the curb, simply forget about the mundane friend from high school or maybe use her for something. But it wasn’t like that. Not one bit. After insane hours of rehearsals, Y/N was one of the three people he always called. It was her, his Mum and Gem. Always. And he loved to listen to her speaking of what was happening at school, how the lessons were, which teacher turned out to be hooking up with which. As much as Harry knew he was made for the extraordinary, he loved the ordinary Y/N brought in his life. She was his safe harbour. But what he never agreed with were her own thoughts she was meant for a simple life, so he took it upon himself to bring a little bit of eccentricity in hers, as he explained how he’d gotten united into a band with four other boys, now going by ‘One Direction’, and it was his mission to join his newfound friends with the most important friend he'd had. “This is Y/N,” Harry introduced her to the guys after one of their late-night practices, one where they weren’t being filmed. “If you do anything that even mildly upsets her, I’ll kill you in your sleep.” The slap against his arm made him let out an ‘Ow!’ while the rest of the boys laughed and welcomed her with open arms. In a weird way, Y/N became part of the band. She didn’t sing or play any instruments, but she was always around, gave her input on songs and setlists. That kind of closeness made all of the fears and doubts about losing a place in Harry’s life disappear. She was his personal hype-man while at the same time knocked him down a few pegs whenever the fame started to get to his head. She was there for his highs and lows, for the break-ups and break-off in the band, and watched as he ventured into a solo career as much as she could with school and all, but when summer break rolled around it was like Harry couldn't get rid of her even if he tried. Not that he wanted. Sharing the success and happiness with his best friend was one of the biggest rewards he could have. And Y/N would never admit it because it’d boost Harry’s already elephant-like ego, at least that’s what she said, but she kind of liked the attention she received because of him, especially because most of it was pleasant. Had she been terrified that being known as Harry Styles best friend would make people think she was just a gold-digger, seeking fame and leeching it off from him? Yes. And there were people like that. But ninety-five percent of what people said on her social media accounts was actually nice, some even said ‘thank you’ that there was a person like her in Harry’s life to keep things real, and most importantly – cared about him through it all. Harry also saw those comments; he loved to read about how people saw just how much Y/N cared, and it kind of stirred something in him. He didn’t know when exactly, but it was around the age of twenty-four for him and twenty-three for Y/N when he started looking at his friend in a different light. And it bloody terrified him. He didn’t know if she felt the same, and the thought of putting his heart on the line like that only for the possibility of it being crushed was the scariest thing ever. He did, however, have an inclination as to what incident had prompted them to surface. The feelings that were. It was a night after a party. Y/N was on winter break from her master’s at uni, which meant he used every opportunity to spend time with her. The hangover was real, I mean it’s what you got by mixing vodka, tequila and beer into an empty Sprite bottle and chugging it. Harry stumbled over sleeping bodies on his way to the kitchen in search for some leftover pizza he was sure he and Y/N in their drunkenness had ordered, as well as to make two cups of black coffee. He knew she hated the taste, but cold junk food and bitter coffee always did the trick with her. That was when he’d found her. Although he’d woken up in Y/N’s room, she hadn’t been next to him. Instead, as it turned out, she’d gone on a food search sometime before him and had passed out on the couch, a Cookie Monster onesie on her body, but most importantly his signature pearls around her neck. And one of her hands even rested against her collarbone, as if scared someone would take them away from her. That’d been the first time his heart had flipped in his chest at the sight of her, but most definitely not the last. He did however keep this change in his emotions to himself. He wasn’t really sure what it was, so it would be unfair to dump that on Y/N and have her figure it out for him because he didn’t know where she stood on her own, let alone do the work for him. Luckily, despite the tornado of feelings, their friendship didn’t falter, and when his Vogue cover came out, he was incredibly nervous for people to see it, but especially for those who mattered the most to him, like his Mum, sister and Y/N. Especially Y/N, for her opinion had become the most important one outside his blood relatives. After all, all his thoughts went to – if we dated, would she be as proud of me as she was of me as a friend? Her support meant the most because he was away in the middle of filming; he had no way of getting physical comfort, so all of the messages, calls, social media posts and FaceTimes was the world to him, especially when Y/N sent a picture of herself with three copies of the magazine, two beside her head as she laid on her bed and one clutched to her chest, which she also posted on Instagram with the caption ‘Can’t hug you for real right now, so this will have to do. When I do get to you @harrystyles, I’ll crush your ribs with my love. And that is a threat.’ Then the comments came in from the rest, and one stood out more than the others. Bring Back Manly Men. At first, he felt odd about it. It didn’t really bother him, but at the same time, it made him sad. He knew that he was seen as somewhat of a controversial figure, as he painted nails, wore frilly blouses and now full-on dresses, which were all typically categorized as feminine things, but he never understood why a nail colour or the shape of a shirt suddenly became exclusively for just one gender. Which is why he was so grateful to have Y/N in his life. “I mean, anatomically speaking, men should be wearing dresses and women trousers. It’s you who have all the dangly bits,” she said through a bite of food. “The Scots have been onto it since the beginning.” Harry threw his head back in a laugh, shifting an arm behind his head. “So I assume your favourite pic is the one in the kilt?” “Well, it did remind me of that awful punk phase I had back in school with all those safety pins, only in a more tasteful way, but no. My favourite one is you in that brown, grey off-shoulder jacket thing.” “Why?” Y/N wiggled her brows at him. “Shows enough of your cleavage but leaves enough for imagination.” “Of fucking course.” Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Objectifying much?” “What? I’m not going to deny that my best friend is a sexy beast.” He wouldn’t say it out loud, but when she called him her friend, it made his heart clench in a painful way. Harry had been trying to be a bit flirtier around her, but given his open nature as it was, Y/N hadn’t seemed to notice it, nor had she seemed to notice how he looked at her while she was frowning at her computer screen. Harry’d had relationships with some women who could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but if he’d had to say, in his opinion, who’d receive that title, it’d be Y/N. The way she snorted when she laughed too hard, the way small crow lines had already appeared next to her eyes from how much she smiled and the way her forehead creased when she was concentrating. It enthralled him to no end. He could read her life’s story on her face, how she’d lived and thought and experienced, unlike so many people he met who couldn’t move a muscle. Though the reason she was so concentrated in that moment was because thousands of people had tagged her in a tweet of a woman, she’d heard of for the first time in her life (because Harry had been trying to keep that one off her radar), and what she saw made all the blood boil in her body more than any other hate comment had. Without hesitation, Y/N atted her and tweeted “Bring back manly men. Please! Millions of people would let him raw them WHILE WEARING THE DRESS. I mean you tried, so I’ll give you the gold star you so desperately want, but that was pathetic.” At that same moment, a notification popped up on the screen of Harry’s phone. He only had notifications on for one person, and when he saw what was written, he gasped, looking at Y/N. “You did not just do that!” “What?” Y/N shrugged biting down on the chocolate bar she’d been savouring for the last half hour of their conversation. “I just said what everyone was thinking. Besides what the fuck does ‘bring back manly men’ even mean? Go chop some wood? Fight a bear in the Siberian woods? Have your ‘friends’ stab you to death at a political meeting?” “You’re a menace.” Y/N winked popping the last bit of the chocolate in her mouth. “Only to those who dare go for the people I love.” His heart fluttered at the last word, but all he could do was mask it with a large grin and shake of his head. For another hour they spent talking, Y/N kept hyping Harry up, tried to get as many plot details of the movie he was filming, while he avoided as many spoilers as possible and attempted to steer the conversation somewhere else, but when that happened, Y/N jumped onto his music, which he had told her all about. In fact, there wasn’t a music video made without her approval, and neither would his next one be. “You’ll fly out to see me film for ‘Treat People With Kindness’, right?” Y/N sighed, giving him a sad smile. She hated disappointing Harry. “I’d love to. But you know with everything going on, I don’t think I’ll be able to.” “Phoebe Waller-Bridge will be in it.” She gasped, in real excitement. “Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?!” “So that’s what this friendship has come to. I’m just your gateway to celebrities?” “Harry you’ve always been just my gateway to the people living in LaLa Land.” But she let out a small breath much like she’d done before. “I really do want to come, Harry. You know that; I miss you like crazy. But Phoebe or no Phoebe, I don’t think I can.” Harry bit his lip nodding, but he still needed to try one more time. “Is there anything I can say or do to get you here?” “Get me a private jet and a quarantine mansion?” “Deal.” “Woah! Wait!” Y/N pretty much jumped up from her position in bed. “That was a joke! Harry Edward Styles, I swear to God, if you try an –“ But with a giant grin, he just blew Y/N a kiss and ended the call. She was quite terrified if she was being honest, that Harry would do what she’d asked. He already had once. It'd been around Christmas time while she was still in First Year at uni, and she’d seen a glistening necklace at a jewellery store display. She hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even uttered a word, but just seeing the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes, was enough for Harry to make the decision and gift it for her. When the next day, around five AM her time, she got a call from Harry’s manager Jeff, she was ready to rip both of them a new one, an e-mail with a plane ticket popping up in her inbox. “I swear I’ll poison your drinks when I see you,” she’d grumbled, but couldn’t hide the excitement as she threw everything she could in the suitcase. “And no one will find your bodies, mark my words, Azoff.” He snorted. “Yeah, tell that to the FBI agent listening in on this call.” “Fuck. Gave myself away,” she said softly, giggling right after. “You know he’s stoked beyond belief.” Jeff piped up. “He literally jumped out of the bed this morning, and during the dance rehearsals he didn’t miss a step.” That made Y/N’s heart warm. “Well, you can tell him to curb it a bit. Otherwise, I’ll just stay at the fucking mansion – which, by the way, it was a joke, Jeff! I’m pissed enough he’s spending money on me as it is, let alone such a chunk on the plane, you didn't have to get me an actual mansion.” “You know, for you, he’d give away all of it.” “Yes, well, he might need it for his funeral, if he keeps spending it on me and on shit like this.” The man shook his head but didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t the only one trying to drop hints to Y/N that Harry felt something more, but he’d leave it to the man himself. He didn’t need to possibly ruin everything, and have her decide not to come. His client was nightmare enough without her around, because Harry was like day and night when Y/N finally arrived on set for ‘Treat People With Kindness’. To say he enveloped her in a hug would be an understatement as he didn’t let go of her for ten solid minutes, having grabbed her by the underside of the thighs and sat down on the ground just so he could prolong the feeling of being with Y/N. The fact that she’d actually gone for it and hadn’t scolded Harry too much for spending that insane amount of money, for having brought a small piece of home to LA with herself where they were filming, made him now fully acknowledge the true extent of his feelings, especially as she didn’t pull away from their embrace, rather hid her face in the crook of his neck. I mean, in the end, he did have to let her go because everyone had to get back to shooting, but not before Y/N had stripped the meticulous jacket from him, and went to have a glance at herself in the large mirror, one of the costume designers playing along and adjusting the clothing on her body, as if she was going to be the one performing. Harry felt someone slide up to him and he looked over to his left, a smiling Phoebe standing there. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” He nodded, looking back over to where Y/N was still looking at herself in the mirror, wearing the heavy jacket as if it was nothing like it was made for her. “I’m a cliché, I know. But I can’t help it.” “Of course, you can.” She squeezed his side. “All you gotta do is tell her.” But it wasn’t that easy. Comparatively, getting Y/N to appear in the video was easier than coming to terms with the fact, all they’d ever remain would be friends if he didn’t do anything. Yet the shoot for the video ended as quickly as it had started, and Y/N needed to fly back to the UK to defend her PhD paper, and Harry had to go back to filming ‘Don’t Worry Darling’, thousands of miles stretching between them once more. And Harry was a romantic, he couldn’t confess over FaceTime. Besides, he wanted to make it a special evening for her, plan something out, rather than risk a shitty connection cutting him off mid-word. He hated it though. It’d been almost four years since Harry had realised his feelings had developed from just friendly into romantic, and still, he hadn’t said anything. Even the people who’d never met Y/N in person like Florence Pugh saw what was going on. But unlike the cast and crew of ‘Treat People With Kindness’ who had to deal with his pining for maybe a couple of weeks, it’d been almost half a year for her at that point. Did she just want to call Y/N and tell her how Harry felt? Sure. She’d had enough of him coming into her trailer only to fall down onto her pillow and whine. But it wasn’t her place. So instead, she was going to figure out a way to get Y/N to the set and make him tell her himself. Getting Harry’s phone away from him should’ve been the inspiration to the next ‘Mission Impossible’ script though, because it took her literally a whole day to fish it out from his coat's pocket, and she only had about ten seconds to find Y/N’s number (which wasn’t that hard given how it was the number with literally hundreds of calls next to it) and put it in her own phone. Once their filming was done for the day, Florence rebutted Harry’s invitation to a movie night, saying a massive headache was coming on, so he wished her a good night and with slumped shoulders went to sulk on his own. Which is why she practically sprinted to her own trailer to finally call Y/N An unsure ‘hello?’ greeted her ears before she responded. “Hey, this is Florence… Pugh.” That stunned Y/N into silence for a few seconds before she spluttered out a greeting and said ‘hi’ as well. “Not to be rude, but how did you get my number?” “Stole it from Harry’s phone. Look, he’s miserable. Keeps moping around, and I can’t take it anymore. Last night I found him crying in his pillow with your shirt over it.” “What? Why?” “Because it didn’t smell like you anymore.” Y/N’s heart broke. “Why didn’t he tell me anything? We just talked, and he said he was fine. God, that man is so dumb sometimes.” “Is there any way you could find a way to get here?” Florence asked biting down her lip. She heard Y/N sigh at the other end of the line. “I’ll – I’ll try and figure something out. Have to know what’s going on at work, I mean it has been like two months since the video, so maybe…” She was more so talking to herself, but then remembered about Florence. “Listen, can I give you a message when I find out if my boss will let me?” “Of course!” The actress was excited about the possibility of Y/N getting here, as long as it got Harry out of his depressive mood. “Oh, and I’ll need to know what kind of restrictions are on set. I’ll figure something out with flights and quarantine, but I have zero clue as to what’s it like where you’re filming.” Florence waved her off, even though she couldn’t see the motion. “Leave that to me. Just get your ass over here before the guy cries himself dry.” It was a struggle though on all three ends – Harry was still moping, because not only had Y/N’s shirt lost its smell of her, but homesickness was hitting full force, Florence was getting more and more desperate as she attempted to take his mind off of things, but nothing seemed to work, and Y/N was trying to get on any possible flight to Harry while arranging two tests and an AirBnB she could self-isolate in for two weeks while attempting to set up her work from afar at the same time. Two days after Florence’s call, Y/N sent her a message ‘Flying in tomorrow at 4 AM. Don’t tell Harry. He’ll feel even shittier cause I have to stay alone in quarantine. First test came back negative.” She sighed in relief at the message and immediately texted back ‘i’ve got you a set pass ready, just need a picture. selfie will do. also, masks are mandatory on the lot, so bring those.’ Immediately Y/N sent a thumbs up, and a picture of herself she didn’t absolutely despise to be used on the ID card. All that was left was to pack. And spend two weeks in an attempt of not going crazy with anticipation before seeing Harry. Those two weeks turned out to be worse than the two months between the music video shoot and going to the filming lot. Because throughout then, Y/N knew her only access to him would be through FaceTime, but to be about twenty minutes away from the man without the ability to touch him was pure torture, but at least Harry seemed completely oblivious to the change in her surroundings. As they still continued on with their calls, not once did he mention her background, or how the paintings suddenly had managed to switch positions or the fact that Y/N didn’t even own paintings. She was sure she could’ve been missing an arm, and he wouldn’t have mentioned it with how tired he looked. “Have you even slept, Har?” “Not really,” he groaned, getting more comfortable in his bed. “We’ve had a bunch of early shoots and then late nights, ‘cause we need to get the continuity for the scenes, and then the day’s full of Zoom calls, and well, I can’t not call you.” Y/N scoffed, scolding him. “You know damn well I won’t be offended if we sacrifice a couple of calls for you to get some proper sleep.” “I know, but I will.” Y/N sighed, knowing in a way it was her fault. She could tell him she no longer was hours of time zones away, but rather watched the same sunset and sunrise as him, but she also knew Harry, and he would be unable to stay away from her until her quarantine was over. She was quite happy she’d sat through the fourteen mandatory days, because when she got on set, even though Harry was usually good at keeping his composure during a scene, despite the mask, he’d recognise Y/N anywhere, and all of the lines flew out of his head. “Jack?” Florence’s hand came to cup Harry’s cheek, trying to bring him back on track. “You alright?” But he didn’t even care about improvising to get out of the flub as his lips were split apart by a grin, and he dashed away, a loud ‘CUT!’ ringing throughout the set, but Harry already had Y/N in his arms, spinning the girl around. “Best friends my ass,” Florence murmured as she went to the two. Harry was speechless, Y/N’s face in between his hands as he looked her up and down. “How are you here? What? Why?” “Thank Florence.” Y/N gave an attempt at motioning to the actress with her head. She set the whole thing up.” Harry’s head whipped to his scene partner. “You knew Y/N was here for two weeks and told me nothing?” “Your brain short-circuited when you saw her! You wouldn’t be of no use on set at all if I had.” Harry scoffed, throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get away from this meanie.” But as he walked away, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ to her. All Florence could hope for was that he’d get it together and confess, but it didn’t seem like he was in any sort of a rush. Y/N was set to be there for three weeks, but the thought of the woman leaving without knowing how Harry felt, leaving him in a sea of his own heartache, made her miserable, especially after a night they’d all spent together. Harry really wanted Y/N to get to know the people he worked with so he invited the ones closest to him for a movie night, during which he himself had been the first one to actually fall asleep, of course. For most of it, as ‘Westworld’ ran on in the background, he spent curled up in Y/N’s lap, his head resting against her chest with her fingers weaving through the shortened locks. She had to get used to the length, motion automatically wanting to go on longer than it was possible to. Soon enough, the soothing motions lulled her to sleep as well, their bodies leaning into one another and perfectly fitting together. As tired as Florence was of seeing Harry, a person who’d become her friend now pine for someone so hard, it was absolutely heart-melting to watch the two interact. Everyone could see Y/N had the same feelings as Harry did for her, only she hid them a bit better. A little, but not by a lot. No friends acted the way those two did around one another. Sure, people could be touchy, but not like that, not with such intimacy behind the motions. She felt like she was being a little creepy as she pulled out her phone to take a picture, but it was too cute not to. A loud noise from somewhere outside set made Y/N shoot up straight, and Florence held her breath as she clutched onto her phone, having swiped it accidentally into video mode and filming the whole thing. “No,” Harry whined, a hand reaching up for Y/N and grabbing at her elbow. “Come back. ‘S too early.” She just nodded, grumbling something unintelligible but possibly along the lines of ‘don’t make me throw hands’ before laying down and snuggling into Harry’s chest. Florence let out a large sigh of relief and decided to get some sleep as well before their annoying four AM alarm woke them up for set. This time it was the other way around, as Y/N whined for Harry to ‘come back and keep her warm’. Florence watched as Harry slipped out of Y/N’s grasp, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and a whispered a promise to ‘see her when the Sun’s up’. The second the trailer door was closed, she slapped his shoulder, and Harry gasped in shock. “What'dya do that for?” “Stop that! Stop that stupid dance!” She stomped her foot on the ground. “I’m sick and tired of watching you watch her with that dumb longing expression on your face. I can’t take it anymore. Why do you think I went through all that trouble to get her here?” “I told you I would!” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it’s not my place or anything, but she does like you. A lot.” Harry threw her an uncertain gaze. “And how do you know?” “Because that woman spent two weeks in self-isolation just to see you! She’s gone through how many of those awful Covid tests just to go and visit you! She’s dropped everything for you, has supported you through so much, and never fails to boost you up.” “That’s what friends do.” “No.” Florence shook her head. “That kind of loyalty… that’s what people in love give. I haven’t talked to my best friend in like a month. What’s the longest you’ve gone without speaking to Y/N?” And with that question, she left Harry to ponder not only his feelings but the girl’s he was in love with as well. Because if he had to be honest, the reason he’d been dragging everything out, the reason he’d stayed pining for Y/N for years on end was that he tried to write everything she did off as something a childhood best friend would do. The truth was more terrifying than anything because once that came to light, it’d change everything, and Harry didn’t know if he was ready. He wanted it, desperately so if it meant Y/N becoming someone he could love freely and openly, but not if by the end of it, she'd disappear from his life, leaving a hole the size of his heart in his chest. His thoughts were cut short as someone knocked on the ‘Hair&Make-up’ door, and an assistant let in a pouting Y/N. Well, he couldn’t’ see the pout behind the mask, but he definitely knew it was there, making a smile come on his own face. She plopped down in an empty sofa and crossed her arms. “I was cold.” Harry snorted, wanting to shake his head, but didn't as to not ruin the hair stylist’s work. “You’re always cold.” “And you’re a living furnace.” “ ‘S that why you like cuddling? Leeching off my warmth?” The same assistant who’d let Y/N in handed her a cup of coffee, which she was ready to kiss the woman for, but opted for a ‘thank you’. “We’ve established I only use you to get to other celebs. What makes you think I wouldn’t use you for those sort of things.” For a moment, the trailer settled into silence, as Y/N enjoyed her morning coffee while the crew kept doing their own work. “It’s so weird,” Y/N piped up, eyes racking up and down Harry’s body. “Don’t even wanna really look at you like that.” He let out a mock gasp of hurt. “What d’ya mean? Am I suddenly repulsive to you?” “No!” she let out a laugh. “It’s just odd seeing you without the tattoos. They’re such a huge part of you, even the dumb ones. Can’t really imagine you any differently.” “Would you love me any differently without them?” The question was bold, even though he knew she did love him, he had to start making moves. “No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I believe I’d be a different person then as well, but I’d love you all the same. As long as you’d do the same with me.” Harry nodded looking down at his hands then back up at her, catching her eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “Don’t think there’s a dimension out there where I don’t love you.” “I mean that is a bold statement,” Y/N said, sipping on the remnants of her coffee. “What if I’m like a weird, cat-skinning psychopath in one dimension? Would you love me even then?” “Jesus Christ, Y/L/N, do you just normally come up with those gruesome scenarios or is it a hobby?” She wiggled her eyebrows, standing up and throwing away the paper cup. “There’s a reason I have a VPN and clean my search history. I’ll see you in your trailer?” “Yeah.” Harry nodded and smiled. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” The next half-hour he kept hyping himself up, about how he was actually going to do it, but Florence intercepted him right as he was turning down the way his trailer stood. “How are you gonna do it?” “I – “ Harry huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “In the beginning, I had like a whole romantic outing planned, but… I’ve dragged this on long enough, so I think I’ll just tell her.” “Okay, good.” Florence nodded and slapped his shoulder in approval. “And if I don’t hear that trailer rocking, I will throw you in a ditch.” Harry’s eyes widened at the statement, fully knowing she meant her words, but she was already half-way down the track, blond hair swishing behind her back. It was then or never. Slowly he opened his own trailer door as if it was Y/N’s place not his, but by the looks of how she’d sprawled out on his bed, she had made herself right at home. Just like she’d done it on the first day of school, but just with his heart. “Hey!” She smiled looking at him. “You ready to film?” “Yeah, but umm… I kind of wanted to talk to you beforehand.” Y/N’s brows furrowed at Harry’s serious tone, so she sat up, nodding. “Sure. Is everything alright?” “It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you won’t take it in a bad way... I’ve actually been wanting to tell you this since that winter’s break party you had while doing your masters...” He let out a small chuckle but seeing Y/N’s eyes widen in a panic he stopped. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “You have a kid! Oh my God.” “What? No!” Harry spluttered. “Why the hell is the first thing you assume that I have a kid?” “I don’t know!” She was now standing facing him completely. “We’ve never had secrets between us, especially for as long as you’ve apparently kept them, what am I supposed to think? Maybe one of the girls you hooked up with got pregnant, and you’ve been hiding the fact you’re a baby daddy because you know I wouldn’t be able to keep the fact I can be the cool drunk aunt to myself.” All of that came out as is she’d prepared it ages ago. “Well, no.” Harry shook his head stepping closer so he could be chest to chest with Y/N. “I’m not anyone’s baby daddy. At least I don’t think so, but umm... when that moment would come... when I have a kid...” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed before lifting a gentle hand to cup her cheek. I wouldn’t want you to be the drunk aunt. I um...” There goes nothing. “I’d kinda like if you were the mom.” “Of course, I’ll be the Godmother!” Both of them said at the same time, making the other’s brain stumble over the words said. “Wait, mom?” Y/N’s question was breathless. “Like donate my eggs or some shit?” “No like, I’ve been in love with you for close to four years, and I wanna try and build a future with you, where you’re more than just my best friend.” “Oh.” That was all that managed to escape her mouth as he fully opened his heart, and Harry couldn’t lie – it shattered. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was more than that. “That’s...” Y/N huffed sitting down on the bed. “That’s a lot to take in Harry. Like a lot.” “I know.” He sighed and sat down next to her. “Which is why I’ve been pushing this away for as long as I could, but... it was time. It wasn’t fair to you or me to keep on living like that. Look.” Harry took her palm in his. “Whatever you want us to be, we’ll be that. I - I mean I’ll be heartbroken if you say you don’t feel the same, but no matter what you tell me now, I won’t let you leave my life. I love you, and I’m in love with you. This is your choice which way you chose to go with.” Y/N shook her head, interlacing their fingers and finally looking up at him. “I don’t want you to be heartbroken. It’s the last thing, I’d ever want to see you like. And umm well, if it takes me using the pair of ovaries I have to admit I’ve been in love with you too to change that, I guess I’ll have to say it. I’m in love with you too.” Harry’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears of happiness, as he looked at Y/N like she’d hung the stars in the sky. Not that it mattered. He always looked at her like that. “You mean it?” “Yeah,” she chuckled, wiping away a few stray pearls from her own cheeks. “I guess I always thought I’d end up the drunk aunt in your life, so that’s why I thought you’d ask me to be whatever future child’s Godmother. But I love you, and I’m in love with you too.” “Can I – “ Fuck, Harry was too giddy for his own good. “Can I kiss you?” And when Y/N chuckled, nodding he swore he already was in heaven. “Yes, please.” At first, the touch of his lips was gentle, almost afraid, but the second he pressed them to Y/N’s, and she gasped at the sensation, it became full of lust as passion, years of pent-up pining and angst and just plain old stupidity surfacing and morphing itself into a steamy make-out session. In a split second, she was sprawled out on Harry’s bed, his toned body leaning over hers and teasing hands moving along her sides, making her squirm and ache for more of his touch, but she wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore a body with a new mindset of what was possible. As Y/N moaned from Harry’s tongue invading her mouth, her hand couldn’t help itself as it slid down his chest, and her finger flicked against the button of his trousers. “Can I touch you there?” Y/N whispered against his mouth, and Harry eagerly nodded. “Please. Been dreaming about this for literally years.” Smiling, she allowed him to continue and explore her mouth with his tongue, intoxicated on one another’s taste. In fact, Y/N was so far gone just from the kiss, she forgot how a fly worked and needed Harry’s help to open it. “Get back here,” she grumbled as he chuckled, having leaned up a bit to make it easier for her to get the offensive piece of clothing off. “We’ll see how you fare with a bra.” “Oh, I’m an expert.” His hands trailed to her shoulder where he snapped one of the straps against her skin, making her yelp. “You do not want to do that when my hand is an inch away from your dick.” But the threat had no merit to it, as she dipped her palm behind Harry’s boxers while his mouth went to soothe the sting and leave a little mark on her skin, which he’d get to admire later on. The second, Y/N wrapped her hand around his cock an involuntary moan escaped into the air, as she gripped him. Fuck, she couldn’t wait until he was inside her, because, and it might sound a little cliché given how they were best friends who’d fallen in love with one another, but she was one hundred percent sure, he was made exactly for her. But no matter how much she twisted her hand or how gently or roughly she rubbed the tip, he couldn’t get hard, and Harry was on the verge of tears, which Y/N saw and instantly pulled away, cupping his face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “Hey!” Y/N cooed. “None of that. It’s alright. Shit happens.” Harry nodded understanding that she was right, but he still felt shitty and well, he felt insecure about it. “I just. Fuck. Usually, when I think of you, I’m hard in like a second.” And although all Y/N wanted to do was smirk and tease him about the fact that he thought of her while wanking himself off, that wasn’t the right moment. “I promise, you turn me on, you do." He sniffled. "This had never happened before.” But Y/N wasn’t offended or sad, and her laugh wasn’t mocking or trying to hurt him. “Harry you’re dead tired.” She cupped his cheek with one of her hands, and if he’d been ice cream he would’ve literally melted. “You had to wake up at four in the fucking morning and won’t go to sleep until two the next day. Let yourself rest a bit.” “But,” he whined and then huffed. “But I wanna love on you. Wanna show you just how crazy I am about you.” “And you will. You know I’ll always hold you to your word. But this won’t be fun for either of us if mid-fuck you suddenly collapse on me asleep. I don’t need to go to the A and E and explain the broken nose is because my boyfriend decided to take a nap while shagging. A nap on my face.” But Harry hadn’t really heard anything she’d said after Y/N mentioned the b-word, a dopey smile on his face. “I’m your boyfriend? You really want me like that?” “I mean I would prefer if you were Phoebe…” Harry pinched her side, making her squeal before tackling her in a hug. “Shut up!” And that’s how the two fell asleep (and were woken up twenty minutes later by an assistant in a panic given how Harry was supposed to be on set in five minutes) – wrapped up in one another’s arms, smiles on their faces, and no longer best friends, but lovers.
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A/N: I loved writing this so much :)
P.S. my tags are always open
P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry. Also, please don’t repost my story on other platforms (wattpad etc) without specific written permission.
#Harry Styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagines#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles angst#harry styles and you#harry styles and y/n#harry styles and reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#eroda#treat people with kindness#fine line#one direction#one direction imagine#1d fan fiction#1d#harry styles fandom#harry styles fan fiction
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Hello, darling! I was wondering if you could right some Bucky x reader, where the reader worked along Sharon during Civil War and she meets Bucky. Then she runs always with Sharon and meets Bucky again in Madripoor and continue their story. I hope that makes sense. Thank yooouuuu✨✨✨
hey babes!! yes i absolutely can! i kind of gave more background than i meant to making it way longer, but i hope you enjoy it anyway! i do want to continue this story and most definitely will be so be on the lookout for the other parts of it lovie <3. i hope you still enjoy it even though it isn’t quite what you asked for yet :)
A Friend of Yours
FATWS SPOILERS
warnings: not much, canon lvl violence, some suggestive stuff closer towards to end, language, i think that’s it
word count: 6140 i went a bit overboard, it’s fine i’m totally fine
a/n: i got this request and then didn’t stop writing all day. i didn’t get anything else done all day. i got home at like seven-ish? and i’ve been sitting on the floor of my bedroom just writing this fic (for context it is now 12:47 pm where i’m at)
check out A Friend of Yours - pt. 2 and A Friend of Yours - pt. 3
p.s.: this is the first fic that i’m writing with an actual ‘x reader’ i’m so proud
xoxo ray
ray’s m.list
******************************
You grew up with Sharon, the two of you were best friends from birth it seemed. Honestly, Peggy raised you more than your own parents did. When Aunt Peggy got Sharon her first thigh holster, she got you one too. You enlisted together, moved up the ranks together, everything. So, it was of no shock to anyone that after the fall of SHIELD, you both moved together into the CIA’s Joint Terrorism Task Force.
You were inside the hotel with Sharon, Steve and Sam when the bombing on the UN took place. The look of unbridled fear that fell over Steve’s face as they announced Barnes as the primary suspect was heart wrenching. You weren’t able to watch it for long because your phone was already ringing off the hook.
“Look, you need to get me more information, and now.” You gritted into your phone speaker before quickly hanging up the phone and turning to a crestfallen Steve who was still watching the news casting. Sharon ended her phone call and turned to you.
“We have to go to work.” A few short hours on a jet later, you and Sharon were coordinating the operation. Close by, Steve and Sam were awaiting new information. Steve had this insane plan to find Barnes before the whole rest of the world did. Like that’s going to happen, it took the world 70 years to find Barnes. Of course, Steve and Sam are going to find him in about half that time.
You followed the blonde woman into a busy coffee shop and up to the counter. She slid a manila folder over to a well disguised Captain America. “Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everyone thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym. Most of it’s just noise, except this.” Sharon was talking quietly, trying to not draw attention to the fact that she was committing a serious offense.
“We have to give the briefing, like now Shar, so we have to go.” The two of you pushed off the counter and you turned quickly to say one last thing. “And you better hurry. They’ve given the order to shoot on site.”
You left the shop quickly and made your way back to the white tent, passing the redheaded spy who was watching you like a hawk. A look of understanding crossed her features as you kept a calm facade. She fucking knows, how the hell could she read you that easily?
*********************************
The next time you saw any of them, they were exiting the back of an armored prison van. It was no surprise that his eyes flitted over to his best friend from childhood. You glanced over at Barnes, who was strapped in all different ways, and your heart hurt for him. You tried not to pity him, you know you would’ve gotten a slap on the wrist from Aunt Peggy about it.
Bucky must’ve felt you looking at him because his steel blue eyes locked with your pair. This was the first time that you’ve ever actually seen the man in person. It was startling, in a good way. You grew up going to the Smithsonian and hearing Aunt Peggy’s stories about the great James Buchanan Barnes. You never thought that you’d get the chance to meet the man you did a history report on your freshman year of high school.
“Y/N?” Sharon’s voice cut through your thoughts, recalling you to reality and out of your past. “We have to go. We’ve been assigned to monitor Steve and Sam while they’re here.” Sharon was clearly not a fan of this, which made you laugh loudly.
“Oh, score! We get to babysit Captain America and the Falcon!” You spoke in an unnecessarily upbeat voice and then clapped your hands together. “Our dream job! Let’s go, Shar!” She stared at you for a millisecond before slapping a hand on your shoulder.
“Let’s go, you fucking dork.” You followed her through the office building into the control room where you observed Tony talking to Steve. Apparently, the conversation was not going well because both their faces held angry glares. Eventually, Tony left the room, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts and that can never be good.
“How you doing, Cap?” You asked as you less-than-gracefully plopped yourself into the chair across from him. He looked over at me and released a heavy sigh.
“Honestly, Y/N, not that great at the moment.” He looked at you with his iconic mom Steve stare. Wow, so that’s what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that. Sam walked in and sat next to you. You drowned out their conversation as your gaze focused on screens outside of the glass office.
The video feed of Barnes in his metal cage was displayed on a TV screen. How is this considered humane? Obviously you knew that the CIA had pushed boundaries in the past, but this was just insane. “Are those restraints really necessary?” Sam seemed to be just voicing his thoughts, not expecting a response back.
“Well, he is considered an international terrorist, so yeah, they’re kind of necessary.” You said quickly and then muttered under your breath, “No matter who thinks that it’s excessive.” Steve’s gaze met yours and he was about to speak when Sharon walked in and dropped a paper in front of Sam.
“The receipt for your gear.” A scoff sounded from Sam as he glared at Sharon.
“‘Bird costume’? Come on.” Always quick to defend your best friend.
“Hey, we didn’t write it up.” It came off snappier than you had meant it. Sharon shot you a look, signaling you to back off. You raised a brow at her as she leaned over the table to the intercom buttons.
The audio from Barnes’ evaluation echoed through the glass room. Everyone around you was unsuspecting the four of you listened in. The psychologist was talking to Barnes, who seemed incredibly closed off. Who could blame the guy though?
“I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?” The psychologist paused for a second, looking down and off to the side. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.” The caged man spoke for the first time.
“My name is Bucky.” His voice was rough from not being used. A look crossed Steve’s face and he turned to Sharon.
“Why would the Task Force release that photo to begin with?” Sharon’s body turned to face the man speaking to her. Her brows furrowed while she answered.
“Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?” Your head tilted, trying to follow Steve’s train of thought.
“Right. Good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb, get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.” Oh shit.
“You’re saying someone framed him?” You wanted to believe it with every fiber in your being.
“Steve, we looked for the guy for two years and found nothing.” Sam reminded in a calm tone.
“Yeah, you didn’t bomb the UN though. That turns quite a few heads. Especially if prominent people like King T’Chaka end up dead because of it.” You made a good point, but there were still pieces missing.
“That doesn’t guarantee that they would find him. It guaranteed that we would.” Sharon and Steve began examining the room around them. Your attention returned to the audio emitting from the intercom.
“You fear that,“ the doctor paused, “if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don’t worry.” He glanced down again and moved his hand to swipe something away.
“Guys?” You pointed to the screen as the doctor held up his pointer finger.
“We only have to talk about one.” All of the sudden, the screens went dark and the lights flickered off. Secretary Ross was yelling at technicians to get his video back. Tony was speaking to his AI, Friday, about locating the source of the outage. Steve and Sam tensed at the thought of what could be going on with Barnes.
“Sub-level five, east wing.” was all Sharon said as the pair ran off. You looked at her and threw your hands in the air.
“What the hell do we do now, Shar?” She glared at you as she started reasoning with you.
“They’re stronger than we are. If they can contain whatever the hell is happening down there then great. In the event that they can’t, we’ll be up here with Natasha and Tony to deal with it.” You nodded quickly as you both ran out of the room.
You quickly followed Natasha, Tony and Sharon to the main level of the building. Clearly Steve and Sam were unsuccessful in containing the situation because Barnes could be seen through the glass, fighting his way to his destination.
Tony stunned Barnes with a previously concealed Iron Man glove. Barnes started towards Tony and quickly attacked. After Barnes bested Tony, it wasn’t long before Natasha rushed the man alongside Sharon. It wasn’t hard for Barnes to throw Sharon across the room. Natasha took the opportunity to launch herself onto his shoulders, which caused Barnes to slam her into a table with his metal hand wrapped around her neck.
She mumbled something to him as you kicked his ribs, releasing his chokehold on her. He stumbled backwards, his hard gaze landed on yours as he approached. Your eyes locked on his as the two of you traded blows.
They weren’t the same eyes as before. Those eyes were soft and remorseful, these were hard and unattached. There was no emotion behind the pair staring at you. The fraction of a second that you were analyzing his eyes in your head was enough for him to catch you off guard. His metal fist landed in your rib cage. The opposite hand jabbed at your face, busting your lip and sending you flying backwards.
You hit your head on the concrete below, making your eyes roll back. The wind left your lungs and you gasped to get it back as Barnes and T’Challa fought in the background. It was a few minutes later that a concerned Sharon made her way over to you.
“Are you okay?” You looked her over as she did you, checking for any severe injuries. You offered a small nod, not wanting to shake your head too much in fear of a concussion. “Let’s go check in with Ross.”
******************
“And how the hell did Rogers and Wilson even know where to find Barnes?” Ross’ voice boomed through the office. No one said anything, not wanting to incur the wrath of Secretary Ross. “I’ve already allowed Stark 36 hours to find them and bring them back here.” Ross turned to you and Sharon standing in the corner of the room. “If they contact any of you, report it immediately.” Rounds of ‘yes, sirs’ bounced around the room, then chaos ensued as everyone got back to trying to clean up this mess.
“Carter. Y/L/N. Elevator now.” He raised two fingers to point toward the elevators before walking into one. It was just the three of you in the enclosed space. He clicked the button for the ground floor. “I know you have some kind of connection to Rogers but do not let that cloud your judgement. The both of you are CIA agents first.”
“We understand, Secretary.” The elevator doors opened again and you went to step out when Ross stopped you again.
“I mean it, girls. This is your job on the line here.” You and Sharon shared a look before continuing walking. Did he just call us girls?
“Do you think that was supposed to be intimidating?” You laughed under your breath as you went out to the parking lot. Sharon sighed and shrugged her shoulders.
“Probably.” She looked at you over the top of her car. “You don’t have to come with me.”
“Where do we start?”
****************************
Getting that fucking shield and bird suit wasn’t easy. They had moved it from the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre to the US Embassy to await transport back to the States. It made it easier but still damn near impossible to get. Thankfully, you and Sharon are good liars. Skills of a misspent youth.
The two of you walked in the front door and displayed your badges. “We’re here to pick up Captain America and the Falcon’s effects.” The man behind the counter didn’t even question it. Man, they need better people at the Embassy.
“You’ll have to sign some paperwork saying you picked it up.” There it is. You both flicked a brow and Sharon held her hand out for the clipboard. Small scratches from the pen in her hand were echoing throughout the empty building.
She handed the clipboard back to the man behind the counter. “Okie dokie, just pull your car around to the side of the building and we’ll get you loaded up.” He shot them a small smile and turned around to file the papers.
“That was easy enough.” You whispered to Sharon as you left, not wanting your voice to carry. You walked to your car that was parked in front of the iron wrought gate. Pulling your car around to the side of the building, you popped the trunk. The gear clad Embassy soldier carelessly tossed Sam’s suit inside before gently placing the shield on top of it.
“Hey, if there’s a scratch on that suit, it’s coming out of your paycheck buddy.” You held your pointer finger up to the man’s unimpressed face.
“Y/N, let’s go. We’ve got to get these to the jet or Ross will have our heads. Remember it’s our job on the line here.” What Sharon said made you laugh big while hauling yourself back into the driver’s seat of the car. As you pulled out into the street, Sharon was typing away on her phone and pushing it to her ear.
“This is a secure line but I don’t know for how long, so don’t talk just listen.” She took a deep breath and then continued. “We want to help. Meet us under the bridge on Route 6. We’ll be there in two hours.” She ended the call quickly and threw the phone outside the car. Glancing over at you, she nodded and sighed again.
“We’ve gotten this far.” You had one question burning in your throat that you were afraid to ask.
“Where do we go after they’ve gone?” She looked at you and she was biting her lip, something she only did when she was incredibly stressed.
“I don’t know yet. Do you have any ideas?” You smiled and thought of the one place that you wouldn’t be followed.
“Yeah, I’ve got one, but it’s rough.”
***************************
The drive to the underpass wasn’t a hard one. You had beat the boys there so you and Sharon were sitting in the car. You had the radio playing softly in the background.
“Who the hell do you know in Madripoor?” You laughed and shrugged.
“I’m supposed to tell you all my secrets for free?” You shook your head and shifted in your seat to face her fully. “I was tasked with tracking some artwork down there. One of my assignments when we went through initiation for the Agency.” You picked at the holes in your jeans. “I thought it was just all fake stuff, but I researched it more and more. Turns out, the underground artwork dealing is really lucrative over there.”
Sharon stared at you in amazement. “What did you do, Y/N?” You smirked.
“I haven’t done anything.” You held her gaze, “Yet.” She released a small laugh and her mouth hung open a bit. “I may have a warehouse out there.” You squinted one of your eyes, and leaned forward. “And the apartment above it.” She was going to say something when an old ass blue Beetle pulled up behind you.
“Now how the fuck did they all fit in that tiny ass car?” You both laughed as you stepped out of the car with big smiles on your faces.
“Not sure you understand the concept of a getaway car.” Steve walked up to Sharon and they began talking as she popped the trunk, revealing their gear. Your attention was on the men in the car behind them. Barnes was stuck in the back away from cameras and Sam was lounging in the passenger seat. Your eyes met Barnes’ again, they were back to the remorseful pair you saw the first time.
“You know he kind of tried to kill us.” You waved your hand in gesture to the man in the car.
“Sorry, I’ll put it on the list too.” He glanced back down at Sharon, who had migrated closer to him. “They’re going to come looking for you.”
She nodded, “I know.” Then the most awkward kiss in all of kissing history took place. Your brows shot up then furrowed quickly, a small wince overtaking your face. They pulled apart and traded more words. Sharon began walking back to the passenger side of the car.
Steve turned around and you looked back at the two men in the car. Both of them were wearing proud, smug grins. Steve threw his head back as if he was berating them.
“About damn time, Cap! She’s been pining over you for God knows how long now.” The windows were down in the Beetle so the other two heard you shouting at their friend.
“Y/N!” Sharon was a bit embarrassed.
“What? It’s the truth, Shar!” The two of you began bickering like an old married couple as you started the car again. Steve got all he needed from the trunk and shut it quickly, slapping it twice. You began driving off with Sharon giving you directions to an airport on the opposite side of the country.
***********************
That was the last time you saw Steve. Last time you saw anyone for a while. You had been dusted in the Blip. Sharon had followed you to your apartment in Madripoor. The two of you were able to figure the city out pretty quickly. Learning the ins and outs of the island, where to go, who to sell to. One afternoon, you and Sharon had been surveying a Van Gogh piece for your gallery when you flew away. In the middle of a fucking deal, what perfect timing.
Five years later, you were reunited with an even more successful Sharon. “I kept your room the way you left it.” She said as she led you through your shared home. “I figured that you’d be back and you’d be pissed off if I fucked with anything.”
You smiled at the woman gratefully and hugged her. Neither of you let go for a while. When you did, she started filling you in on everything. She had continued to split all her profits and had been depositing the money into your account. “Even if you didn’t come back, I could’ve used it if I needed to bug out. Win-win.” She explained with a smile.
The two of you had about six months of getting back into the groove of things. It was quickly cut off by a ping of your phones one day. A look of confusion and anger crossed her face, “Are you fucking kidding me?” She locked eyes with you and told you to get your gear.
“Where are we going?” She threw her phone at you and you looked at the screen. As soon as you read the notification at the top of it you understood. Repeating your question from before, you tied the knots on your Converse. You followed Sharon to the Low Town side of the island.
“Now what the fuck are they doing here, do you think?” The two of you camped outside of the Brass Monkey nightclub, ready for whatever came your way. Deciding that you were too visible to everyone else, you moved to the building across from the club. Something is bound to go wrong and the first place they're going to get ran to is this dead end alley.
Sure enough, not even ten minutes later, Sam, Barnes, and Zemo got cornered in the alleyway. Sharon had decided to stay on the ground floor next to the door. You shot two of the assassins following the group of three and Sharon took out the final one.
You made your way back down to Sharon, who was still holding her gun up. “You cost me everything.” She focused her gun on Zemo.
“Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Sam remarked calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.
“Explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.” Your brows shot up at that, must of been new information that she got while you were upstairs.
“Why are you here, Sharon?” Sam questioned.
“She was one of the ones who stole Steve’s shield, remember?” You stepped forward, raising your gun to gesture to the men in front of you. “And the wings, so your ass,” you waved at Sam, “could save his ass,” at Barnes, “from his ass.” You lowered your gun and stepped in front of Zemo, staring the man down. Your fist balled and you launched it at Zemo, landing a solid hit to his cheekbone.
Barnes grabbed your hand, twisting your body to slot against his with your arm bent behind your back. He leaned close to your ear, breath making shivers trickle down your spine. “I only let you do that because I’ve wanted to for a while now, so don’t get any more ideas.” Your breath hitched because of the proximity of the man behind you.
“Alright, give me my Y/N back.” Sharon said, lowering her gun to holster it. Bucky held onto you for a few more seconds than necessary and then pushed you towards Sharon as he released you. You scoffed, then shoved your gun into the waistband of your jeans. Sam and Sharon had already started their own conversation by the time you calmed down enough to face Barnes.
Sharon bobbed her head to you, an unspoken language between the two of you. After bringing them into your home, Sam began admiring the artwork in the first floor gallery. “Looks like breaking the law is treating you two well.”
“Before even graduating into the Agency, I had a place over here. Never had any intention on using it, but here we are.” You started, “Then, after having to flee Berlin, for you,” You shot a look at Bucky, “we figured if we had to hustle, might as well enjoy the good life. Do you know how much we can get for a real Monet?”
“Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monet’s.” Sharon shot him a look, about to defend us when Zemo cut in.
“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. All the classics.” Sam made a face of disbelief.
“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky gestured to the gallery. Sam pulled his phone out of his suit pocket.
“Okay, guys, I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” He was typing furiously as he spoke. Bucky passed him, soundlessly following you and Sharon to the upstairs apartment.
“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Once the five of you got upstairs, Sharon began walking them into her office, telling them that they needed to change because we were hosting clients. It didn’t take long for the men to switch outfits. It was refreshing to see Barnes in something other than combat gear or a torn Henley. Sharon followed you in the office, making a remark at Sam while he apologised.
“Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy.” She said as you plopped yourself on one of the plush chairs across from the couch, holding a clear glass full of whiskey.
“He knows. And not so deep down.” Zemo added quietly, since when is Zemo informed? Sharon glazed over his comment, opting for asking about the new Cap while filling a glass for herself.
“Don’t get me started.” Barnes spoke for the first time since being downstairs. You narrowed your eyes at the man.
“Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit.” You swung your glass to Zemo, “Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap’s best friend.” His gaze darted over to you, nose wrinkling at your comment.
“Do you know who I am?” He tried to be intimidating but it was just funny to you. You were taking a drink to moisten your throat to fire back a witty comeback, when Sharon spoke for you.
“Oh trust me, she knows. She did a report on you freshman year of high school.” You started choking on your drink as Sharon smirked from the couch next to Barnes. His brows raised and a smug smile graced his face.
“She did now?” Clearly he was a different man from the last time you saw him. Meeting his eyes for the fourth time ever, you were surprised with what you saw. There was almost a hunger lingering behind his eyes.
“Most definitely. I don’t even know how many times she went to the Smithsonian to see the exhibit about you.” You glared at Sharon, who continued to talk, unbothered by you. She raised her own glass to her lips, speaking into her cup, muffling her words. “Honestly, think she developed a little crush.” Barnes’ eyes never left your face, his mind racing.
“Wait, so the entire time you were helping me and Steve, you had a crush on Tin Man?” Sam interjected, wanting to be included in the conversation. You rolled your eyes and gave a subtle nod to Sam. The action wasn’t missed by Bucky.
“Which is why I think it must’ve been really hard for you to ask him of all people for help. They comin’ down real hard on you out there?” You asked Barnes with a smirk and a head tilt towards Zemo. “I know he fucked you up real good, triggering the Soldier, Barnes.”
Sam laughed beside him. “Dude, that’s basically what you told Walker.” Barnes threw a glare at Sam, who had clapped a hand on his metal shoulder. The conversation dissipated after your comment, guess you killed the vibe.
Sam turned to a relaxed Sharon, “We need your help.” Her body tensed, neither one of you was ready to throw yourself back into enemy territory. “I can get your name cleared.” He dangled a huge bargaining chip in front of her face. You knew Sharon was eager to get back to the States. She misses her dad. It was unfair of Sam to use that as a way to gain her favor.
“Haggling with someone’s life like that isn’t okay, Sam.” You said quietly, focusing your gaze on the glass in your hand.
“It’s not like that, Y/N.”
“Yes, it is, Sam.” You said firmly. “You can’t just say something like that. I know you’re an Avenger. That’s great shit, but you need to realize that if you can’t deliver on your word, we go to jail or worse. You know that.”
“I don’t trust charity, Sam.” Sharon said from beside Barnes.
“All right, a deal then. You help us out, and I get your names cleared.” Your nostrils flared and you shook your head. Sharon agreed, blinded by the possibility of seeing her family again. You don’t doubt that she thought through all the outcomes, it just wasn’t the route you would’ve taken.
“We sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, and enjoy the party.” She got up, exiting the office.
“Try to stay outta trouble, boys.” You said placing your glass on Sharon’s desk as you left. “We’ll see what we can find.”
*********************************
You were standing next to Sharon when the three men joined the party. Leaning over to Sharon, you told her you were going to get a drink from the bar. You pushed your way through the crowd, planting yourself on a stool in front of the countertop. Nodding your head at the bartender, they passed you a bottle of club soda.
“Not drinking tonight?” A raspy voice questioned over your shoulder. You turned to face the owner as you shrugged your shoulders.
“Already had my fill. And technically, I’m supposed to be working, Barnes.” Your eyes met with his again. You couldn’t tell if it was the light in the room or if it was just him, but they were a deeper shade of blue than before. He leaned his weight on his elbow that was resting on the bar top next to you. He was so close you could feel his body heat rolling off him in waves.
His eyes roamed your face, stopping on your lips as he spoke. “You know you can call me Bucky, right?” You made a face, bringing your bottle to your mouth. He watched intently as your lips wrapped around the opening.
“We’ve never had a single conversation before today. And the first time you actually met me, you twisted my arm behind my back because I punched the dickwad standing next to you.” You took another sip and his eyes drifted down to your throat. He watched as it bobbed when you swallowed.
“So, yeah. I’m going to call you Barnes.” You leaned closer, “I’ve never been given permission to call you anything else.” You could tell you struck something. Something that he didn’t even possibly know about. His face heated and he had to clear his throat before speaking.
“Um, okay. Well you can call me Bucky or if you want, James.” Your brow quirked and you pulled back to take him in fully.
“How many people have you let call you that since you got your free will back?” Your tone was serious, but your face held a smile.
“None, doll.” His eyes ran over your face again. “I just want to hear how it’ll sound coming from your mouth.” One of his metal fingers came up to rest on your bottom lip as your smile grew.
“James.” You whispered, just for him. What he was giving you was a privilege, one you were going to revel in. One corner of his mouth tugged upwards.
“Again.” He growled as his finger remained on your lip.
“James.”
“Again.”
“James.” The party around the two of you faded away. In your reality, it was just you and the man in front of you. A peaceful place, where nothing could change what was happening right at that moment.
Of course, reality is a bitch. And you never got what you wanted. Your jaw clenched as soon as your phone pinged. James dropped his hand from your face as he read the text with you.
Found Nagel. Meet us outside and if you find Bucky, tell him too.
You scrunched your nose and bit your lip. James’ hand was quick to pull your lip from your front teeth, before resting there for a second as he studied your face. He stepped back quickly, nodding his head for you to follow him.
**************************************
You don’t know how the hell Sharon managed to find him, but she did. You were in a shipping yard for storage cars. “Madripoor could give New York a run for its money.” Sam said as the five of you weaved your way through the containers.
“With a bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving.” She glanced down at her phone in her hand. Nodding toward a red container, “Alright, he’s in there. Container 4621.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out five earpieces.
“We’ll keep watch while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.” You said as you watched everyone situate their pieces. Sharon turned around and began walking down an aisle not far from the container Nagel was in. You stopped James before he could go anywhere.
“Hey, be careful.” His eyes met yours and they were back to the normal steel blue. “Don’t forget who you are, James.” Something flashed behind his eyes, but his face showed no change.
“You too, Y/N. Don’t make me come out here and save your ass.” His eyes flicked down quickly and a smile spread quickly. “I mean, not that I would mind.” You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder, turning and walking down the aisle Sharon did.
“So,” She was leaned against a rusted container with a smug smile. “You and Bucky, huh?” You groaned and stood next to her.
“I don’t know, Shar. Neither one of us should be in a relationship. Especially since we’re both Enemies of the State, well one of us is, the other one was.” You turned your head to look at her. “What do you think about all of this?” She opened her mouth to speak when you both heard something ricochet off a metal wall.
She raised a finger to her mouth and crouched down before pressing that same finger to her earpiece. “Guys, we have company.” She took off down one end of the aisle and you down the opposite, ready to attack from both sides. There were three men walking towards Nagel’s container, you shot a look down to Sharon and she nodded.
She came from the back with a baton, whacking the last guy once in the knees and once in the head, disarming him. When the front man turned to help his comrade, you did the same move to him with your own baton. You both continued trading blows with the men. You had effectively taken out the first man, using his thigh to latch yourself to the third man’s shoulders. Situating yourself to use your body weight to flip him over, definitely knocking him out.
“Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go now, boys!” You yelled to your earpiece as you watched Sharon fight off another opponent.
It wasn’t until the gunfire started that Sharon said something else into the piece. “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.” You both split off, out of each other’s view, battling your own demons. You were currently dealing with two of those said demons, when a third approached from behind. Locking you in a chokehold as the other two continued punching your ribs.
One of the hunters was suddenly ripped away from you. Punches were landing and groans were echoing through the alleyways. You threw all your body weight forward, throwing your assailant over your shoulder. Two gunshots rang out and then a third one, which landed a bullet hole between your aggressors eyes. Your head whipped around to face James, whose arm dropped back to his side.
He walked towards you, putting a hand on your back leading you to where Sharon and Sam were standing. Zemo pulled up in a blue convertible car, “Supercharged.” was all he said. Sam pointed his finger at the man in the driver’s seat.
“You’re going back to jail.”
“Do you want to find Karli or not?” James sighed heavily, his shoulder sinking with the action.
“He’s right. We need him. And there’s two of us, and at least twenty of them.” James got in the front seat, leaving the door open for Sam.
“Fine. But if you try that shit again--”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Zemo raised his hands in surrender. Sam turned to Sharon.
“Well, that was one hell of a reunion.” You leaned over the open door to talk to James. He looked at you with a sad face.
“Why don’t you come back to the States with us?” He tilted his head. “We could clearly use your help, doll.” You smiled at that and licked your lips before responding.
“You know we can’t. Not yet anyway.” He placed his finger back on your bottom lip, maintaining eye contact. “This isn’t the last you’ll see of me, James. That I can promise you.” He smiled and dropped his hand back to his lap.
Sam climbed into the seat behind James. “You’re not going to move your seat up, are you?” James smirked before replying.
“No.” You watched as they drove off, desperately wanting to see James again already.
You turned back to Sharon and the two of you began walking back towards High Town. “I think you should go for it.”
#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fan fic#bucky fanfic#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes x reader#james buchanan barnes x you#james buchanan barnes x y/n#james barnes x reader#james barnes x you#james barnes x y/n#Sebastian Stan
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I Choose a Lifetime of Happiness (Fran Kirby x Reader
[I changed some of the details of the actual game to fit the story]
"And Barcelona has beaten Chelsea for the Champions League with a harrowing win of 5-nothing!" The commentator yelled.
Alexia immediately ran over to me to hug me since I was the closest, but I dodged her hug in favour of comforting my girlfriend.
She was dejectedly sitting on the ground, obviously angry at her performance.
Super Fran Kirby, the love of my life.
Sitting on the ground, pouting. I have to admit, she looks adorable right now, even if I might sleep on the couch tonight.
I slowly walked over to her trying to create a mental encouraging speech in my head.
After preparing it I stuck my hand out in front of her. The second she took it and stood up, I abandoned all thought and did what came naturally. I hugged her.
I hugged her like there was no tomorrow, and she hugged me like I was her lifeline.
Thats the funny thing about Fran, she's like a drug. The second I have her in my arms I can't let go, and the second she's gone I need her back.
Maybe that's just love. The utter need for that person, living your entire life revolving around that one soul. Going to bed just to wake up to a certain face. Making a fool of yourself to hear the most incredible sound in the world. Telling embarrassing stories just to see a blinding smile.
Doing anything and everything just to make one person out of 7 billion happy.
Maybe love is just a choice to commit to someone, no matter the obstacles that stand in the way.
Maybe love is making that same choice, again and again, day in and day out, year after year. Never faltering, never pausing, just that same choice over and over.
And that's how I loved Fran Kirby, day in and day out, year after year. Never faltering, never pausing, the same choice over and over.
When I finally let go I felt like I couldn't breathe, but I was still living. Living in a moment of greatness, yet here I was not celebrating, but here with my girl.
I never doubted that choice.
"I'm proud of you." She looked up at me, smiling. I could tell that it was a hard thing for her to do.
"Y/n/l" My team started shouting at me to come over since the medal ceremony was starting.
I felt a burst of pride when I was awarded the gold medal and kissed the trophy.
However I frowned when I saw Fran's angry face when she took off her medal. I wanted to desperately hug her again but I couldn't since Vicky had the trophy in her hand to raise in our victory.
Throughout the champagne, my friends yells of joy, the confetti everything. I still looked back to my girlfriend, who was staring at me with a small smile on her face, clapping.
The second it was all over I swiftly grabbed the trophy and quickly walked over to Fran and kissed her, still holding the trophy.
She grinned at me. Suddenly all those hard practices, all those early mornings, all those stupid games all seemed worth it.
Screw it, if I lost and she smiled at me like that I would be the luckiest girl in the world.
"Here," I told her, replacing her medal with mine "You deserve it."
She looked down at it before replying "I don't need it" she smiled "Your already the best trophy I've already won."
I laughed and kissed her cheek.
At this point the Champions League trophy was completely abandoned and forgotten, but the photographers didn't forget.
The next morning I would wake up to a headaches worth of social media notifications and texts.
But all that didn't matter, only the person in front of me did.
------
After the game I had the unfortunate pleasure of media duties.
"Why did you not celebrate with your teammates after you won?" One reporter asked.
"Well," I started "Don't get me wrong winning the Champions League is a major feat, and I'm insanely proud of my teammates. However I can't celebrate when my friend is crying. "
"Winning is everything. Being first is everything. But being with my girl is everything to me. It takes a lot of work to get to the final.
'Form is temporary, class is permanent and it's going to take everything you've got to stay at first place.' that's what my high school coach told me when we got to our 3rd championships final. Thats stuck with me for years, and so has that winning mentality.
"Winning is fun... Sure. But winning is not the point. Wanting to win is the point. Not giving up is the point. Never letting up is the point. Never being satisfied with what you've done is the point." (Pat Summitt) I told the reporter.
"Winning means a lot to me, but it also does to Fran and in the end only one of us can win. This time it was me."
"Years later people are going to be talking about the current champion, not the one that happened 5, 10 years later." I smiled at the camera.
"But I'd choose Fran over a trophy any day." I grinned at Fran, who smiled back.
"I'd chose a lifetime of happiness over a moment of greatness"
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Fighting Fires - No Biggie (Lindsey x Reader)
Request: press or lindsey x reader where reader is a firefighter and she gets called to help with the fires in cali and press or lindsey is sad but they know it’s what she has to go do?
Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog for her amazing editing skills!!!
You loved moments like these. Moments where you were cuddled up close to the love of your life, buried under blankets. Moments where everything was still. Where everything just seemed to… pause. It was rare that You and Lindsey got moments like this, With her soccer career taking her all over the world and your insane schedule as a firefight. But moments like this always made it worth it.
The comfortable silence was shattered by your phone, ringing.
“Shit,” you sighed, taking an extra second to place a kiss on Lindsey’s neck before rolling over to reach for the offending device.
“Who the fuck is calling you at 2am?” Lindsey groaned, throwing the arm that had been wrapped around you over her eyes.
“The station,” you said, your voice rough with sleep. Lindsey hummed, her hand rubbing your back, as you placed the phone to your ear.“Hello?” you listened for a few seconds, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration, your lip caught between your teeth, the hand not holding the phone rubbing your eyes.
“Yes chief, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” You said, already standing from the bed. Lindsey sat up, the covers pooling around her waist as you scurried about the room, pulling on clothes and grabbing your go bag designed specifically for occasions like this.
You were a firefighter, and your ladder was one of the best in the country. Part of the job was always being available to help if you could.
“What’s happening,” Lindsey asked, her voice shaky, you sighed, pulling on your work sweatshirt. You would have to change when you got to the station anyway.
“I gotta go. There’s a massive fire and they need people to help,”
You made your way over to her side of the bed, cupping her cheek. She leaned into your hand, and you smiled sadly at her. It sucked when your time together got cut short.
“Be safe,” She whispered. You ran your thumb over her cheek, as you leaned in to connect your lips.
“Always my love. Play good,” You mumbled, your breath fanning against her lips as you pulled away. You sent her one last smile and wink before pulling your bag over your shoulder and heading towards the door.
****
“More than 30 departments have been called to help with the escalating fires, which have already caused more than 10 billion dollars worth of damage…”
“Would you turn that shit off please?” Lindsey groaned, glaring at the news man on the television. Knowing that you were out there, risking your life to save others, and seeing it on screen were two very different things. Christen smiled sadly at her, muting the television in the locker room.
“Yeah, sorry Linds,”
“It’s alright, it’s just difficult, you know? She’s doing what she loves and she’s helping people, but like it’s super dangerous,” Lindsey said, sitting heavily on the bench, unable to tear her eyes away from the flames on screen. She didn’t even want to think of you facing that wall of fire in person. You loved helping people, and she understood, but it still made her sad when you had to leave.
“We get it, trust me. Her mom had a heart attack when she found out that Y/N was actually going to go through with it,” Emily nodded, sitting beside the woman and running a comforting hand along her back. She had known you since the two of you were in diapers,/‘d she remembered the fight that had ensued after you told your parents of your career plans. Yes, it scared her too, but you had wanted to be a fireman for as long as she had known you.
Lindsey nodded, sniffing lightly. “I’m happy she’s following her dreams, but it doesn’t make those like that,” she pointed to the screen, displaying firefighters spraying what looked to be a 40 foot wall of flames with water.“any less terrifying,”
Tobin followed her hand, her eyes landing on the truck proudly displaying the Portland logo along with the ladder neither. She felt her breath leave her. There was no way right? “Hey, isn’t Y/n part of ladder 13?”
“Yeah, why?” Lindsey asked, her attention shifting to her fellow midfielder. Tobin Pointed in the direction of the television, and Lindsey. Mad Emily’s eyes widened in horror. The truck was surrounded by flames, the caption stating that they were trapped and unable to communicate with the rest of the group.
Lindsey’s heart stopped, it was as though all of her fears were being realized. She barely registered the breathless “Shit,” that sounded from beside her. You promised you would be safe, and now you were cut off from the rest of the group.
She loved you and now you were probably…- she couldn’t even think the word. The two of you didn’t have enough time together for that to even be a possibility. No. You had to be ok.
“Alright ladies, let’s hit the field,” Vlatko clapped entering the room, entirely oblivious to the crisis several of his star players were having. You might not be a national team member, but you were a large part of their family. Christen sent him a curt nod, turning to your girlfriend who looked like she was going to pass out if she didn’t breath.
“I’m sure she’s fine, they’d call you if she wasn’t,” Christen said comfortingly, carding her fingers through Lindsey’s hair and shushing her softly. Lindsey nodded, straightening up. You had to be ok. She wouldn’t give up on you until they were absolutely sure. Until they told her she had to. No news was good news at this point.
“Come on, let’s get your mind off this for a while and then we’ll figure out what’s going on,” Emily mumbled, hoisting your girl to her feet. Hopefully some time on the field would help them all clear their heads and prepare to help Lindsey through the worst, if that news came.
****
Lindsey sat at the airport, her knee bouncing with impatience. She had gotten the call just as practice ended, assuring her that you were fine and providing her with your ladders flight information. So here she was, with the seconds feeling like hours, waiting for you to make your way through the terminal and back to her.
She stood the second your limping form came into view, wrapping you into a hug the second you were within reach. She buried her face into your red sweatshirt, breathing in your scent that was slightly more smokey than usual.
“Hey babydoll,” You sighed, kissing her forehead and hugging her tight. You nosed her hair, smiling tiredly at the sweet smell you found there. It felt so good to have the woman you loved back in your arms.
“You scared the shit out of me,” She said, her voice muffled by the heavy fabric of your shirt. You brought your hand up to card it comfortingly though her hair, brushing her ear with each pass, your cheek still resting gently on her head.
“I know darling, I’m so sorry. We didn’t realize it had circled back, and we got caught for a little while, but I’m alright. I’m here,” You mumbled, pressing another kiss to her head and holding her impossibly tighter.
She didn’t need to know the gory details of your near death encounter. She didn’t need to know just how close of a call it had been. All she needed to know was that you were here, safe with her, and that you would be for a while. You took a little step back, and she looked up at you. You cupped her cheek, and gently brought your lips to hers. You needed to feel that she was here right now.
“I love you, even though you terrify me,” She mumbled against your lips, before gently probing your bottom lip with her tongue, asking for entrance. You smirked, pulling away just enough to huff out a, “Hey, I love you too even though you terrify me,” before reconnecting your mouths.
Your tongues entertained for a few seconds, before air became an issue. You connected your foreheads, your heavy breathing falling gently across her lips.
“I scare you?” She breathed out, and you felt your lips tick up at the question.
“Have you seen the size of some of the people coming after you?” You asked in return, pulling away as your girl nearly doubled over in laughter.
“I’m serious, people like Kelley are seriously scary,” You mumbled, warmth spreading across your cheeks. Emily and Lindsey insisted she was harmless, but that shovel talk she had given you had left you shaken.
“You fight giant walls of flames that can vaporize you for a living and you’re scared of squirrel?” Lindsey weazed.
“Hmm, not when I have you to protect me,” you smiled, pulling her back into your chest and flinging her over your shoulder, patting her but as you began walking towards the luggage carousel.
You were safe, and with her and that’s all that mattered.
#uswnt x reader#uswnt imagine#uswnt imagines#lindsey horan x reader#lindsey horan imagine#literalhedgehog
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Rainbow glow
aka yall feral followers wanted the angst and i cannot help but to deliver. so in a role reversal, today Kitten wrote you lovely friendship rainbow eyes- and the start of trust with other colors entering green. have something terrible from me in the ‘rainbow eyes are evil death pain’ version of the au
Shouta felt cold. Not an icy frigid- just. Empty. the cold of an unused storage space behind dirty concrete and thin metal. The cold of a grey sky that won’t even give you the relief of rain or snow. The kind of cold when you had nothing in your pantry, when you had to explain that to your child.
A child- God, how was he going to explain this to Eri? To his other students? To All Might, to Midoriya’s mother?
Hizashi shut off the car, but didn’t move to get out yet. He stared ahead, silent. He shouldn’t be silent. He shouldn’t have tears streaked down his face, his eyes bloodshot behind the glasses.
Should, that didn’t matter. Could, would, didn’t matter. Those were excuses. He had to do this.
“Do you think- you want to just, be in the teacher’s commons for a bit?” Hizashi finally asked. “Don’t think there would be anyone else there who’d mind. The kids are taking care of Eri, right?”
The kids- the ones who almost weren’t, anymore. Mirio was going on about a tea party.
“Yeah.” Shouta finally spoke. It sounded wrong. It felt wrong, in his throat.
“Then we can go to the commons, for a bit?”
“No.” Shouta had to commit. He had to do this. It was what was rational. It was what would protect the others. He couldn’t fail more of them. “There’s something I have to do.”
“You can pick up the kids’ work to grade later, Sho.” Hizashi tried. He really wanted him to be there, didn’t he. He didn’t want to be alone.
“I- it’s not that. There’s just one conversation I need to have. Then I’ll meet you in the commons.”
Just one conversation. Like this morning had been ‘just one conversation.’ It was still the first time in maybe years that he’d cried. Maybe he’ll cry again. No, he couldn’t let himself. Not yet. Not until after. There might be a fight, after, there might be nothing. But he had to do it, still.
“Ok.” Hizashi nodded, squeezing his shoulder before he climbed out of the car and shut his door. Shouta took one moment, one deep breath, before getting out himself.
With the long drive to and from Tartarus, plus the meetings inside, his students were long out of class and practice for the day.
He hoped Midoriya would be alone.
Hope was not on his side. He should have known that, by now. Midoriya was in the middle of the couch, between Todoroki and Tenya. Uraraka was on the floor, leaning against his legs, Asui sitting on her lap as she braided her hair. They were focused on the tv, where Mina, Kaminari, Ojiro, and Tokoyami were fiercely battling it out in some racing game or another, and apparently all the students had picked sides.
Asui noticed him first, and though the amused, watery glow of her eyes flickered, they didn’t dim. He nodded to her.
Her eyes wouldn’t be glowing happily after this.
But they wouldn’t be rainbow, unseeing, at least. He had to focus on that. He had to think rationally.
His hands were shaking, so he shoved them in his pockets.
“Midoriya.” He called. “Can I talk to you a minute?”
The green e- the green-haired boy jolted, surprised to turn and see him. A nervous smile twisted his lips. “Uh, sure? Is there something wrong?”
All the other students were looking at Shouta now.
Well, he had been the one to miss an entire school day earlier. He hadn’t even missed a class period before that, so he was already going to be drawing attention for that.
Dimly, he was glad Eri wasn’t here. Glad Shinsou and Aoyama weren’t here. That All Might wasn’t. This was hard enough.
He shook his head and tried to keep his voice normal. “No, nothing wrong. Just need to talk to you alone, if you’ve got a minute.”
“Oh, sure, yeah.” Midoriya began the process of detangling from his friends, grabbing his jacket from the back of the couch and pulling it on as he made his way to the door, looking up at Shouta.
He looked completely guileless. His eyes looked green.
But Kurogiris eyes had looked yellow. Yellow, alone, until they peeled him back and saw the rotting corpse of his friend, of his- Oboro. Glazed, unseeing eyes with the same rainbow light that all nomu had.
With the rainbow light that Midoriya’s got, when he was brainwashed. Shouta hadn’t let himself think about it too much before today, because he just didn’t have information. He just didn’t have reason, when three simple incidents that were completely different, and one late at night with no other evidence.
No, there had been evidence. The ruined room. The strange new technique- new quirk, with a new color.
Shouta had just not wanted to believe it. Had wanted to trust All Might had it handled, like people always trusted in the man.
And now he didn’t need to believe it- he had seen something, seen proof so terrible it would haunt what little sleep he got for the rest of his life, probably.
Shouta nodded at the boy, heading outside.
Whatever he saw from Midoriya today would probably haunt him too. Would he drop limp under questioning, like Kurogiri had? Would he simply be warped away in some shadow or goop? Would he start fighting Shouta, go violent, like other nomu did?
Don’t think about that. Don’t dwell, don’t feel. Don’t lose yourself, because you have to think rationally.
He didn’t speak, for a while, just walking away from the dorm buildings. Where no one could see out a window, if they were looking.
“Aizawa-sensei? What is you wanted to talk about?” Midoriya asked after a while.
Shouta stopped.
“Midoriya, you’re…” A good kid, learning, a hero chickling in the making, already so strong, already- no, stop. It felt like saying a eulogy over a body. Even if that was what this was, for all he still looked alive. Even if that was what this was, Shouta didn’t deserve to say it.
“Yeah?” Midoriya asked.
Shouta moved, flicking his capture weapon around Midoriya.
The boy yelped, that instinctual squirming away before it stopped a moment later. “Sensei?” He asked again, higher pitched, panicked- scared. “No- you’re not Toga, are you?”
Shouta activated erasure just as his eyes light up green, sparks flying out. “I’m not.” He says. He feels so tired. “It’s me. Midoriya, I need to ask you about your quirk.”
The boy went still again. “My- my quirk?”
“Your quirks.” He corrected himself. “You have more than one. Your eyes glow with so many colors, sometimes. Like only nomus’ do.” Midoriya’s face was pale, and not just for the cold weather. “So I want to know- when did you get these quirks, what other ones do you have, and what did you do to my student?”
Midoriya gaped, a second of silence, two seconds- then he shook his head. “No, no Aizawa-sensei it isn’t like that-”
Shouta tugged him closer, leaned over him. His eyes were stinging so much, and he hadn’t even been erasing for that long.
���It’s not! It’s not, I swear Sensei, it- they were given to me. They were given to me, not stolen. By heroes.”
“Who?”
“I- I can’t tell you, right now, but-”
“The only person who has the ability to give quirks- and take them- is All For One, who’s currently sitting in Tartarus, and that villain who attacked Nabu where your class was- who was never found, dead or alive.”
“No, no it wasn’t them.” Midoriya shook his head even more. “I just- Sensei, there are six and a half billion people on this planet who have quirks, there are others like that and they aren’t all villains!”
Shouta’s mouth felt drier than his eyes, and he snapped. “Midoriya. This isn’t about the insanely rare chance of another person in this country with the same quirk who actually has a hero license and is giving you more quirks for whatever reason they have, it’s about how I had to see a dead UA student today who had been killed and turned into a nomu that looked like a normal person, until they cracked him open and saw his face, his eyes.”
“I- what? What?” Midoriya spluttered, eyes blown wide. “Who?” He glanced, panicked, towards the dorms and school and Shouta could have kicked himself.
He shouldn’t have told him that. He shouldn’t have, rationally, because he didn’t know who was listening in through Midoriya. He didn’t know if they already were aware of what the heroes had found concerning Kurogiri or not. He shouldn’t have, less rationally, because now the kid was freaking out even more.
Midoriya always was more concerned for others’ sakes…
“No one you would have known.” Shouta tried to say it calmly, free hand up peaceably. “He was killed- and captured- a few years ago.”
Fifteen years ago.
This boy would have just been a baby, then.
“And that’s why I need to know the truth about you, and your quirk, Midoriya.” The capture weapon felt so sharp against his fingers in the cold air. The knife on his belt felt so heavy against his back.
The student dips his head.
“It’s called One For All.” he admits, softly. “It was All For One’s brother’s quirk, once. But it wasn’t exactly the same- he could give his quirk, and then that person could give it and their original one to someone else, and then that person could pass all three on, so on and so forth. He could give quirks, but not take them. The person who had it last gave it to me. Th- they were better at hiding it, than i am. I didn’t think the other quirks in it would cause problems, until Black Whip was already out.”
Midoriya hadn’t had a good grasp of his quirk at the start of the year. He’d been registered as quirkless before that. It… could be possible. Shouta hoped it was possible.
Shouta had learned today, again, to not trust hope.
“Who gave it to you?”
Midoriya shuddered, and Shouta’s heart almost stopped. Don’t drop, don’t drop now-
“All Might.” The boy whispered. “All Might gave it to me.” He looked up, eyes blazing in every sense but literal. “You can’t tell anyone. You can’t tell anyone, please.”
“I won’t.” Shouta says, quicker than he should.
He blinks.
He pulls out his phone, dials a number.
“Who are you calling?” Midoriya’s voice is sharp.
“All Might.” He answers, just as the man himself does.
“Aizawa-kun! Are you back-”
“All Might. Are you in a place I can ask you questions of a sensitive nature?”
“Um. What sort of sensitive do you mean?”
“Pertaining to All For One.”
“Give me one moment.” The hero said, voice now as serious as Shouta’s was. In a few seconds, he spoke again. “I am now. What’s wrong?”
“What does ‘One For All’ mean to you?”
It’s quiet, very quiet, for what feels like a very, very long time. Shouta’s heart thumped. Midoriya looked silently on.
“It’s the name of my quirk. Aizawa, is… young Midoriya all right?”
“So he does have it, now. Your old quirk. And others.” Shouta felt something blooming in his chest. He wasn’t sure what it was, he didn’t have the time or energy to examine it. It wasn’t important, it could wait until later.
“Yes. Is he all right?”
“Yeah.” Shouta let the capture weapon drop, arm still out to steady Midoriya if need be. “We need to talk, later, about this.”
“When?”
“Tomorow.” Shouta said, and then hung up. Tomorrow is a weekend, right? That’s why the kids hadn’t been busy this afternoon. Good. he had new plans for tonight. And tomorrow morning.
He drops his arms, and sighs. Exhaustion, and relief. So much relief.
“Midoriya…” He started, looking over at him. He couldn’t read the expression on the student’s face. He lifted a hand, slow, then dropped it over Midoriya’s head.
His hair was thicker than Shinsou’s, but just as soft as Shouta ruffled it.
He wanted to say something. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to promise everything would be all right.
He couldn’t truthfully do either, and while he normally had no scruples about deciving his pupils… well, Midoriya had just been very, very honest with him.
“Thank you.” He said, instead, because that was true.
“Aizawa-sensei? Are you… crying?”
He was, huh. Shouta wiped his cheeks. “No.”
Midoriya let out a sound that wasn’t really a laugh, but for now, after everything, was close enough.
“Sensei, I-”
His phone rang- Shouta’s. He dug it out with a sigh. Hizashi.
“One minute.” He said, then answered. “Yeah?”
“Shou, it’s Eri.”
“What’s wrong?” Energy snapped back into him. It hadn’t been a misdirection, right? If All For One and his league knew about his brother quirk, if he was just letting Midoriya unknowingly distract the heroes while-
“She’s not feeling well. Very upset, says her horn is hurting her.” Hizashi says, and he’s not calm- just tired too. A line of fear under that. “It’s sparking a little bit, Shou, though I can’t tell if her eyes are lighting up.”
“Tell her I’ll be right there.” He hung up, slid the phone away. Then he looked to Midoriya. “Eri’s feeling sick, think you could get me to the teachers’ dorm faster?”
Midoriya looked concerned, then relaxed with a nod, a tiny smile.
In a moment, Shouta was moving in the biting wind, the world a blur. He was held in small arms, and when he looked up he saw Midoriya’s face focused ahead.
Sparks over his skin, black whips out to speed him along. His eyes shining both green and maroon. Two colors, which he thought minutes ago meant his doom.
It still could, the rational part of him reminded. He’ll be a target. For All For One, for the villains. For some other heroes, too.
Later. He can worry about that later. Once Eri’s settled.
He’d have time later.
#*posts this and dies*#my writing#eye glow au#glowing eyes au#dadzawa#oh man that got long#im so tired#and im still supposed to be writng completely seperate whumptober story right now ahhhh kjhghjk
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On the Citadel and writing (Star Wars) essays.
I’ve just stumbled upon captures of clones deaths in the Citadel and Obi-Wan’s reactions (easily summed up by “we must keep moving”), and the op was using this as evidence of Obi-Wan dehumanizing them, and I can’t stop thinking about it and it’s making me so (irrationally) angry.
...
So yeah instead of ranting, I’ll attempt to direct my seething frustration into trying to organize a few thoughts on character analysis. Rule of thumb: text without context is pretext. Or in this case, picture without scene is probably bs. When using a particular frame as a piece of evidence supporting a take, you have to make sure you’re not excluding any surrounding material that could potential contradict that take, or else the analysis doesn’t hold. Quick example: using pictures of Yoda goofing around to test Luke’s patience as evidence that he is insane doesn’t work, because it’s revealed right after that he was playing an act.
This principle is to be broadened when analysing entire scenes or episodes. You can’t take them out of the wider narrative.
The post I was talking about continued on to say that this wasn’t the first or the last time that Obi-Wan was careless with the lives of his clones. Unless they were referring to RotS (which isn’t fair or intellectually honest because it was made long before anyone considered giving the clones identities and individual thinking), I don’t see that as being the case at all in canon material. Obi-Wan fights on the front lines. He takes the exact same amount of risk as his troops - he takes more risks even, as established as early as Christophsis (when he tells Rex to retreat with his men while he holds off the B2 super battle droids).
What the op was probably talking about was the many plans of his that result in clones dying (ex: on Geonosis with the zombie worms, many troopers die as they escape). Here’s what I meant about the wider narrative: TCW is about war. It’s about people dying, and it has to be so the audience can understand the horror of a full scale war. And since it’s still (supposed to be) a kid’s show, it has to be mostly faceless people dying.
I’m borrowing a quote from @trickytricky1‘s absolutely amazing vid ‘Your Body and Your Blade’, which compiles scenes of Jedi placing themselves between their clones and enemy fire: “We are shown a war, and in that show, to tell that story, they will kill the soldiers. They will kill the soldiers regardless of whether we think they should have been able to be saved. They will kill the soldiers to prove a point, to tug the heartstrings, to move the plot, to set the scene. But that is far from the only thing we are shown.”
So there, wider narrative. The clones dying in missions led by Obi-Wan don’t say much about Obi-Wan himself. And speaking of Obi-Wan, more on character analysis. Obi-Wan, according to Matthew Stover’s Lucas-approved RotS novelization, is “the ultimate Jedi,” Jedi being supposedly defined by their compassion.
Obi-Wan is the guy who cradles one of his worst enemy in his arms as he dies, the guy who knows like a billion languages and is always shown to be super respectful and/or knowledgeable of other beings’ cultures (the Twi’Leks whose homes he doesn’t want to destroy, the Zygerrian whose culture he uses to buy Anakin time to disable the bombs, the Geonosian Queen, telling the Gungans they live in symbiosis with the Naboo...) and the one who knows the names of the 501st troopers despite not being their general (see The Deserter). Obi-Wan is not presented as dismissive of people or things because he does not understand them, and he certainly is shown to value all sentient life above his own. That does not jibe with Obi-Wan dehumanizing the clones.
What we’re uncomfortable with might be the show itself not delving deeply enough into issues we as an audience can perceive because we have the benefit of omniscience and hindsight. Just as Yoda and Obi-Wan killing the clones in RotS does not inform their characters but the real life context of the movie’s creation, the same can be said of most problems with clone rights that we are indigned by. (Except in Krell’s case, or Tarkin’s - that’s what dehumanization looks like. And that’s what the show draws attention to, practically screaming “hey, look, these guys are evil for doing that!!!”)
To go back to the Citadel arc itself... Again, context. They’re in the middle of a highly time-sensitive mission, their failure could (as far as they know) mean complete defeat and the end of the Republic if the Separatist invade the Core worlds, and it’s more than probable that the clones who came along volunteered. (The ones we know are all high-ranking officers.)
With this in mind, Obi-Wan not taking the time to show grief (again with the context that Obi-Wan isn’t one to wear is emotions on his sleeve) says one thing about his character, and only one: he’s a damn leader. As Piell puts it, this is war. You act first, survive first, mourn second. It’s hard to swallow as the audience, because we love the clones and care for them and want other characters to show that they care too, but fan-service can make for poor writing and characterization.
(And by the way - Obi-Wan carries a clone on his back when they make their way down a cliff. He also personally assists most of the men up and down ledges, he gives out the warning about the blast doors closing... He’s trying to have everyone’s back. Pressing people to move isn’t being cold, it’s being cool-headed.)
To finish off, I’d like say that the “death of the author” principle is great when you’re writing school essays and want to show off (I should know, pretending that I’m smart and know stuff about literature is basically what I’m majoring in). But it can very easily lead to interpretations that - while valid to the degree that you’re entitled to make them and that they’ll probably always be defendable in some way - are not what you were meant to take away from the story. (Ex: the Empire was actually good, the Jedi deserved genocide, the Dark Side is freeing - go crazy, make defending these into fun rhetoric exercises, actually believe them if you want - but it’s still not what Lucas was trying to say.)
Here’s what JAT (Obi-Wan’s voice actor) had to say about the Citadel. (Borrowed from the amazing @gffa.)
“He has sympathy and heart for the clones, but at the same time he knows the mission.”
tldr: the Citadel isn’t an arc meant to highlight Obi-Wan’s flaws (if anything, it’s an Ahsoka arc, and an Anakin arc setting up his future interactions with Tarkin). The deaths we see him walk away from are mostly for shock value, to make us understand what how dire the situation is and to make Even Piell’s death believable when it comes (which in turn is to further Ahsoka’s arc).
So yeah, keep the author alive, try to make serious analysis in good faith and not based on your emotional reactions to character you cherish, but go crazy on the wildy AU headcanons and don’t let people spoil your fun.
#meta#on meta writing#double meta?#the citadel#obi-wan kenobi#i'll defend him till I die#clones#clone rights#star wars
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Of Starlight
A/N: Enjoy ❤️
Warnings: mentions of blood
Word Count: 2541
—————————————
Chapter 13: The Day That Was
Allison placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder as she stared down at the paper. “Harold Jenkins?”
“Who the hell is Harold Jenkins?” Diego asked as Five took one last gulp of the coffee, throwing the cup to the side afterwards.
“I don’t know… yet. But I do know that he’s responsible for the apocalypse. So we have to find him. And we have to do it now.”
“But how is he connected to what’s gonna happen?” Luther asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Wait, so you just know his name? That’s it?” Diego walked past his siblings to get closer to Five.
“That’s enough.”
“There’s probably dozens of Harold Jenkinses in the city.”
“We have no other choice than to start looking, then.” (Y/N) sighed. Both Diego and Five turned to her, the former annoyed and the latter grateful. Allison sighed.
“I’m sorry, am I the only one that’s… skeptical here?” As she spoke, (Y/N) heard Five grunt. Bringing her attention back to him, she saw him checking his right side. “I mean, how exactly do you know all of this about what’s-his-name?”
Five looked up at her, ticked that she’d already forgotten the name. “Harold Jenkins. You know those lunatics in the masks who attacked the house?”
“Oh, yeah, I think I remember those guys.” Klaus’s sarcastic remark made (Y/N) mentally wince. Diego turned to him, also sarcastic.
“Yeah, the ones that attacked us,” He turned back to Five. “While you were getting drunk.”
“Well, he actually got drunk after-”
“(Y/N).”
“Right. Sorry…” She looked down as Five rolled his eyes at his brothers.
“Yeah. Them. They were sent by the Temps Commission to stop me from coming back and preventing the end of all life on earth.”
“The Temps what?” Allison crossed her arms.
“My former employer. They monitor all of time and space to make sure that whatever is supposed to happen… happens. They believe the apocalypse is coming in three days. So I went to Commission headquarters and intercepted a message that was meant for said lunatics. “Protect Harold Jenkins”. So he must be responsible for the apocalypse…”
Five let the information sink in for his siblings, which lasted for a few seconds, before they all erupted into overlapping exclamations, voicing their confusion and such. (Y/N) really couldn’t be bothered to listen to them as she focused on Five, the boy checking his side yet again. She slowly approached him as Allison spoke, “And do you have any idea how insane this sounds?”
“You know what else is insane?!” His head shot up to her, the corner of his lip twitching. (Y/N) halted her tracks beside him. “I look like a thirteen-year-old boy! Klaus talks to the dead, (Y/N) also looks like a kid with several versions of herself walking around, and Luther thinks he’s fooling everybody with that overcoat! Everything about us is insane. It always has been.”
“He’s got a point.” Klaus spoke up.
“We didn’t choose this life, we’re just living it. For the next three days, anyway.”
“But the last time we tried to stop it, we all died,” Allison raised her brows. “Why is this time any different? Why shouldn’t (Y/N) and I go home to our kids?” Her last question made the girl flinch. Five’s eyes were set on the two mothers.
“Because this time, I’m here. We have the name of the man responsible. Guys, we actually have the chance of saving the lives of billions of people,” His gaze and voice softened. “Including Claire.”
Allison hesitated. “You know her name?”
“I do. And I’d like to live long enough to meet her. Michael and Jada, too.” At this, (Y/N)’s heart bursted and she was sure she would’ve cried right then, had they been in different circumstances. Allison nodded and moved forward.
“Alright. Let’s get this bastard.”
“You had me at Gerald Jenkins.” Diego spoke.
“Harold Jenkins.” Five narrowed his eyes.
“Whatever. I’ve already lost two people this week, I’m not losing anyone else.” His words made (Y/N) smile, proud of her siblings for actually committing to this. She followed her brother as he began out of the room.
“And Luther?”
“Yeah, you guys go,” Luther’s words made everyone stop and stare at him. “I’m gonna stay and go through Dad’s files. I still think this has something to do with why he sent me to the moon.”
“Seriously?” Diego deadpanned. “Now you wanna make the end of the world about you and Dad?”
“No. ‘Watch for threats’. That’s what he told me. You think that’s a coincidence? This all has to be connected somehow.”
“Luther, we can’t really do this if we don’t have everyone. And we don’t really have the time to talk about it, either. We need to go now.” (Y/N) sighed.
“Exactly, let’s roll,” Diego nodded. “I know where we can find this asshole. Klaus, you’re with me.”
Klaus raised his head from where he was laying down. “Yeah. I-I’m good. I think I’ll, uh,” He stood up and began to leave. “I think I’ll pass, I’m… feeling a little under the weather, so, uh…” He was stopped momentarily when (Y/N) gently grabbed his arm, her eyes asking him what was wrong. He used his other arm to pat her head as he freed himself from her grasp, continuing out. She sighed in defeat as she followed Diego and Five out of the parlor. At the entrance, she stopped and turned to her sister.
“Ally, you coming?”
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m coming.” Her eyes slowly left Luther before she walked beside (Y/N) out of the house. After climbing into the backseats of the car, the two got comfortable right beside each other. As Diego drove off, the sisters leaned against each other’s bodies. (Y/N)’s head was tucked between Allison’s shoulder and neck, the woman’s head resting atop her sisters. It had been such a long time in which they comforted each other for something that didn’t involve losing someone they loved, one way or another. (Y/N) felt a sense of normalcy for simply cuddling with her sister in peace. Well, as much peace as they’ll get for a while.
The two removed themselves from each other once Diego pulled up to the police department and turned off the car. “I know this Jenkins dude has to have a record. We just gotta get our hands on the file.”
“So, what’s the plan? Bat your eyelashes and say please?” (Y/N) raised a brow, leaning forward. Diego looked at her through the rearview mirror with a sarcastic smile.
“You know you get funnier everyday? No, I know the station like the back of my hand, little sis,” His snarky comment earned him a light slap to the arm. “I’ve spent a lot of time inside.”
“Arrested…”
“Whatever. Here’s the plan.”
“Plan?” Five furrowed his brows at his brother. “I’m just gonna blink in and get the file.”
“No, that’s not… You don’t know the ins and outs of this place, okay-”
“I literally just did this yesterday.”
“What?”
“Well… My yesterday, not your yesterday… It’ll take me two seconds. Why don’t I just go?”
As the boys continued to decide who did what, (Y/N) leaned back and let Allison wrap an arm around her. “Boys…” They both shook their heads, slightly smiling at each other. After the decision was made to let Diego be a hero or leader or whatever he was this time, the four got out of the car. Allison had mentioned that she needed to make a call, so she, Five and (Y/N) headed to the nearest payphone. As she spoke on the phone, Five leaned with his back against the building behind them. (Y/N) was attached to his side, her arms looped with one of his and resting her head on his shoulder. He hadn’t minded the contact, but he did notice how clingy she had gotten since he returned. She constantly watched him with careful eyes, asked him multiple times if he was okay, and always wanted to assist him.
His head turned to her before he whispered close to her ear. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, you just… you seem different.”
“How?” She looked up with her brows knit together. Five wiggled the arm a bit that she held onto. “Oh… Yeah. I just missed you.”
He tilted his head at her. “I missed you, too…” And he meant it. These past couple of days have been filled with thoughts of (Y/N) for the boy. In the middle of dodging bullets shot by The Handler, going through multiple plans during his very small stay at the Commission, and playing the part of the obedient worker, his mind raced with thoughts of her. He never stopped wondering how she was doing, what she was doing, if she was thinking of him as well. It often distracted him and he’d get frustrated at himself. He’s already come to terms with the fact that he’s in love with her years ago. Why is this time any different? Maybe it was the way her thumbs gently rubbed the bicep of his sleeve or the way everything she did was so much more gentle. He wanted to think it was simply because she really did miss him, but he knew there was something more going on in that pretty head of hers.
As Allison hung up the phone, Diego rounded the corner to them. The teens lifted their heads and straightened their posture. “So?” Five watched as Diego raised a file in the air.
“You’re welcome.” He smugly smiled at (Y/N), who flipped him off as Allison snatched the file from him. They watched as she opened it and scanned the information inside, her eyes widening.
“Holy shit!”
“What?” Diego frowned. Allison held the information to them, a mugshot of the brunet Vanya had shown up with paperclipped to the file.
“Harold Jenkins is Leonard Peabody.” And with that revelation, only one thought crossed (Y/N)’s mind.
Ew.
-------------------------------------------------
Pulling up to Leonard Peabody’s house, the four got out of the car, walking through his lawn to get to the front door. Allison used her hand to block the sun from her eyes. “Be careful, okay? We don’t know what Peabody’s capable of.”
“Yeah, he didn’t seem dangerous when I first met him,” Diego replied. “Looked kinda scrawny.”
“Yeah, well, so are most serial killers and mass murderers. I mean, look at him.” She gestured to Five, who simply gave her a ‘thanks’.
“Good point. So what’s this guy want with Vanya?” He asked.
“I don’t know, why don’t we ask him after we kill him?” Five answered as (Y/N)’s eyes followed Allison, who ran to the back of the house. She looked between the boys and the direction her sister went before following the latter. Seeing her getting in through the backdoor, she smirked and cleared her throat. Allison quickly turned to her with wide eyes.
“You been here before, Ally?”
“Maybe once.” She cheekily smiled and opened the door. Stepping inside, they jumped a bit upon seeing Five already inside. He looked over when he heard the door open and close.
“Ah. So, we’re just waiting on our leader.” He gave a tight, close-lipped smile. Not too long after, the sound of glass shattering and someone groaning in pain could be heard. With a collective sigh, the three made their way to the front of the house, where Diego lay in shards of glass that were once a part of the door.
“Subtle.” Allison quipped as (Y/N) easily twisted the unlocked knob and opened the door.
“You know, the door was unlocked.” Five added as Diego painfully got up from the floor.
“Yeah, well, my way works just fine,” He strained through gritted teeth. “Spread out. Yell if you, uh… you know, you’re in trouble.” When he was out of the room, Five scoffed.
“Aspiring leadership.”
“One of the greats.”
“Love his work.” (Y/N) finished as she walked into the living room, Five right behind her. The boy glanced over his shoulder to see Diego was now in the kitchen. Figuring they were as alone as they could be, he joined (Y/N) at the coffee table, the girl looking through the papers stacked on top.
“Hey… You sure you’re okay?” He whispered, the girl not answering for a few beats.
“I’m fine, Five. Just trying to prevent an apocalypse like anyone else around here.” She joked. His concerned orbs didn’t leave her until Allison called for them to come upstairs. Quickly, the three bounded up the stairs and then the ladder that lead to the attic. The sight before her caused (Y/N) to fall dead silent. It was like an Umbrella Academy shrine. Old merchandise, posters, and figurines littered the room, only that wasn’t the unsettling part. All of their faces, even Reginald’s, were crossed out from the posters and burnt off from the figurines.
“This guy’s got some serious issues…” Diego quietly muttered. He and Five both muttered a ‘shit’, but the boy’s sounded more wavering. (Y/N) turned to see him breathing heavily and checking his side yet again.
“Five?” She whispered, gently holding his shoulder. His eyes were half lidded when they met hers and she began to panic. Just as Allison came to the conclusion that Vanya’s boyfriend was out for their family, Five fainted. (Y/N) yelped and caught him before he could hit the ground. Allison and Diego turned to them as the girl sat on her knees, letting the back of Five’s head rest on her thighs. Allison lifted his shirt to reveal the bullet wound in his side, blood seeping from it.
“Jesus, Five, why didn’t you say anything?” Diego widened his eyes. Five groaned as (Y/N) gripped one of his hands in hers.
“You have to keep going…,” He faintly whispered. “So… close…” His words trailed off when he fell unconscious. (Y/N) shakily inhaled as she gently patted his cheek with her free hand.
“Five? Five?! Five!” She screamed, tears filling her (e/c) eyes. “No, come on, Five! Stay awake!” She hit his cheek a bit harder, the boy’s eyes cracking open the slightest bit right before Diego and Allison both picked him up. She was close behind them and assisted in opening and closing doors. Once they were all piled into the car, with her and Five in the back, they began to drive off.
“The Academy…” Five muttered in his haze.
“W-What?” (Y/N) sniffled.
“We need to go to the house…”
“Five, we need to get you to a hospital! We don’t have Grace anymore.”
“The house, Diego…” Five demanded despite himself. Diego shook his head, but listened to his brother and changed the route to their house. (Y/N) sighed in frustration and glanced down at Five. He was drifting in and out of consciousness and she was right there to wake him up if he fell asleep. Her other hand gently ran through his dark strands as she tried to hold in her sobs.
Not this again.
—————————————
Taglist: @nate-isnt-great @43sparrows @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @narikyuwu @sm0kingcrack @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @call-me-starstorm @rev-enviadhell
#the umbrella academy#umbrella academy#umbrella academy x reader#tua#tua fanfic#tua x reader#tua five#five hargreeves#five hargreeves x reader#number five#number five x reader#five x reader#of starlight
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let's save the world
season one, episode seven
five hargreeves x reader
summary: you, five, allison, and diego go to find out who harold jenkins is and to try and stop him, but that mission is cut short when you see that five is hurt
trigger warnings: cursing, some angst(?)
word count: 3k
a/n: this one’s a bit shorter, so i apologize for that, but there wasn’t as much action in this episode so i worked with what i had. i guess since it came out way quicker, that kind of makes up for it lol. anywho, enjoy!
“who the hell is harold jenkins?”
you watch as he throws the coffee cup behind him, dropping the briefcase to your side. “we don’t know.” five tells them, letting out a heavy breath.
“yet.” you quickly add on, running your fingers through your hair with a heavy sigh. “we don’t know who he is, yet.” you hoped three days would be enough to find out. “we do know that he’s responsible for the apocalypse. so we have to find him. and we have to do it now.”
“how is he connected to what’s going to happen?” luther asks, looking between the two of you. all of them were confused, and understandably so. after disappearing yesterday, you suddenly come back and know what to do to stop the end of the world. you would be confused too.
“we don’t know.” five says simply with a shrug of his shoulders. it was frustrating, not knowing anything but the name of who you needed to stop. there could be many harold jenkinses, all in their own little areas of the city. you only had three days to find out which one you needed to stop, though, and you couldn’t waste any of that time.
diego steps past his siblings, and you notice the sling holding his arm. that was new. “wait, so you only know this guy’s name?” he questions, “that’s it?”
“it’s all we need.” five responds, to which you nod in agreement.
diego isn’t so ready to believe you and just go with it. “there are probably dozens of harold jenkinses in this city.” pursing your lips at the obvious statement, you stay quiet for a moment.
“well, i guess we better start looking.” you breathe out, not wanting to deal with this any longer. it’s not like you have unlimited time to figure this out. you only had around seventy-two hours, and you weren’t even sure if that was enough.
allison crosses her arms over her chest, “i’m sorry, am i the only one that’s skeptical here?” she asks, everyone turning to look at her. “i mean, how exactly do you know all of this about what’s his name?”
“harold jenkins.” five reminds her, clearly just as annoyed as you. “you know those lunatics in masks who attacked the house?”
klaus scratches the back of his head, his nose scrunched up slightly. “oh, yeah, i think i remember those guys.”
“yeah, the ones that attacked us because they were looking for you guys.” diego says accusingly, nodding his head slightly. “and you know what? i have more questions about that night. specifically for you.” he points at you and you roll your eyes.
sighing heavily, you decide it would be best to just tell them everything to get it out of the way and stop wasting time. “fine,” you begin, stepping forward slightly, “i’m one of you guys. i’m pyrokinetic. which means i can control fire.” you look between them, lips pressed together into a thin line. “any questions?” diego is about to speak again but you cut him off, “no? okay, good. let’s get back to what’s actually important, yeah?”
“yes, that would be nice.” five agrees, leaning against the back of the couch. “those guys were sent by the temps commission to stop us from coming back and preventing the apocalypse.”
“the temps what?” allison asks, voicing the confusion that all of them had etched on their faces.
shaking your head, you begin to pace. “our former employer. they monitor all of time and space to make sure that whatever is meant to happen,” you pause for a moment, freezing your movement as you look to them, “happens.”
five nods, “they believe the apocalypse is coming in three days. so,” you begin your pacing once again, walking slowly around the couch, “we went to the commission headquarters and intercepted a message that was meant for the lunatics you met.”
“that message,” you tell them, sitting on the couch and facing them, “was what we gave you. ‘protect harold jenkins.’ if the commission wants him protected, he must be what causes the end of the world.”
it’s silent as the siblings look to the two of you, processing everything they had been told. then, all of a sudden, they all speak at once, asking too many questions to comprehend. the only thing that you really heard was allison’s remark about how insane all of this is.
“you know what else is insane?” five finally reached his breaking point, and you sigh softly as you hold your head in your hands. “we look thirteen again.” he simply says, “klaus talks to the dead, and luther thinks he’s fooling everybody with that overcoat.” he points at the two of them, before looking at all of them with narrowed eyes. “everything about us is insane. always has been.”
klaus lifts his head from the arm of the chair he’s sitting in, “he’s got a point there.”
ignoring the remark, five continues. “we didn’t choose this life.” he shrugs, “we’re just living it. for the next three days, at least.”
“the last time we tried to stop it, we all died.” allison argues, gesturing to the other siblings. “why is this time any different? why shouldn’t i go home to my daughter?”
groaning silently to yourself, you stand back up, “what’s different this time,” you speak through gritted teeth, “is that you have us.” you gesture between yourself and five, “we know what we’re doing, and we have the name of the guy we have to stop.”
“we have the chance to save the lives of billions of people.” five tells them, looking to allison. “including claire.”
there’s a moment of silence once again, and allison furrows her eyebrows. “you know her name?”
“i do.” he responds, nodding slightly. “i’d like to live long enough to meet her.”
looking between luther and diego, allison slowly nods as well. “alright. let’s get this bastard.”
diego also seems to be convinced. “you had me at gerald jenkins.” you roll your eyes at his mistake.
“harold. harold jenkins.” you correct, raising an eyebrow at him.
he shakes his head, “whatever. i’ve already lost two people this week. i’m not losing anyone else.”
“yes!” you cheer, raising a fist in the air. “yes! finally, you’re understanding.” you grin, clasping your hands together. “what about you, big guy?” you look to luther expectantly.
“you guys go.” he tells you as diego comes to stand by your side. “i’m going to go through dad’s files. i still think this has something to do with why he sent me to the moon.” one step forward, two back, apparently. you weren’t expecting luther to get it, but it was still quite annoying.
diego raises an eyebrow at him, “really? you’re making the end of the world about you and dad now?” he questions, clearly annoyed.
“no- he told me to watch for threats.” luther defends himself, “that’s not a coincidence. it all has to be connected somehow.”
allison steps to his side, trying to convince him that they need to stick together. you clap your hands together, “we don’t have the time for this. let him stay.”
“let’s roll.” diego instructs, “i know where we can find this asshole. klaus, you’re with me.”
everyone looks over to klaus as he sits up, “yeah, i’m good.” he renounces, pushing himself up from the chair. “i think i’ll pass. feeling a little... under the weather.” he leaves the room, abandoning the little mission you had created.
sighing softly, you follow as diego and five walk out of the room, ready to get this all done with and be finished with the task of stopping the end of the world.
-
finding harold jenkins was a lot easier than you thought it would be. turns out, diego being a vigilante actually helped out, since he was able to get the file of the man. apparently, allison recognized him, and he had been flirting around with vanya, and she didn’t even know his real name.
getting out of the car, you sigh softly. his house was just a normal house, in the middle of a small, normal neighborhood. nothing you would expect for someone who was going to end the world.
“be careful. we don’t know what peabody’s capable of.” allison warns as you all walk up the path to the house, which seemed to be empty at the moment. lucky timing, apparently.
diego brushed off her warning, “he didn’t seem dangerous when i saw him.” he dismisses, “looked kind of scrawny.”
“so are most mass murderers and serial killers.” she shoots back, gesturing to five, “look at him.”
“thanks.” he mutters.
“good point.” diego concurs, leading up the steps to the porch. “what’s this guy want with vanya?” he questions.
“no clue. why don’t we ask him once he’s dead?” you respond, giving a sarcastic grin.
diego holds out a hand to stop the both of you, and you sigh softly. “alright, i’m gonna-” he cuts himself off when he sees that allison wasn’t there anymore, sighing and rolling his eyes in exasperation. “it would be nice for people to just stick to the-”
he once again stops talking when five grabs your hand and you both disappear with a flash. now inside the house, you glance around, jumping slightly when you hear glass shattering, followed by diego groaning in pain.
walking past him to the door, you turn the handle, grinning slightly when it easily opened. “it was unlocked.” you inform him, allison chuckling beside you.
“my way works just fine.” he mutters in response, getting up from the glass covered floor. picking some of the shards off of his clothes, “spread out. yell if you, uh... you know, you’re in trouble.”
after watching him walk off, you shake your head and split up from the other two with a small wave as you go down the hallway next to the stairs. surprisingly, it was normal. nothing that an ordinary person wouldn’t have in their home- some pictures hanging on the walls, a small bathroom.
while you were rooting around, allison called for you guys from where she was upstairs, apparently finding something of importance. all of you quickly make your way up, seeing the hatch to the attic open.
taking a deep breath, you watch as the boys go up the ladder before following them up, seeing that the attic was decorated in an interesting fashion. umbrella academy decorations- figurines of them when they were kids, heads burned off, posters with their faces scratched out. this was definitely not normal.
“this guy’s got some serious issues.” diego mumbles, examining everything.
biting your lip, you look around a bit. “i don’t think he was ever interested in vanya.” you voice your thoughts slowly, “he was trying to get to you guys. call it a hunch.”
suddenly, there’s a thump, and when you look to your side, five had fallen to the ground. your eyes widen as you quickly crouch beside him. “what’s wrong? what happened?” he’s breathing heavily, and his lack of a response worries you to no end.
allison pulls his shirt up slightly when she sees the blood staining it, and she sees the shrapnel in his abdomen. “why didn’t you say anything?” diego questions him, raising an eyebrow.
“you need to keep going.” five breathes out, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the floor. “we’re so close.”
you’re shocked you don’t stop breathing when he loses consciousness. “shit.” you barely hear the crack in your voice, because all you hear is a ringing in your ears. “get him- get him in the car! we need to get him back to the academy-” you jump to your feet, and your legs feel like jelly, but you can’t stop for anything.
it felt like a blur, helping allison and diego get five down the stairs and into the car, where he laid across the seat with his head resting in your lap. the whole time, your heart was pumping so hard and it felt like you weren’t breathing for a good while. five was falling in and out of consciousness, and you kept your fingers on his wrist to reassure yourself that his heart was still beating.
-
when you finally got back into the academy, you all carried him in as quick as possible, and you felt as if you had calmed down, even just a little bit. sure, your heart still pounded in your chest and you had to work to control your breathing, but at least you could think rationally.
“we should’ve taken him to the hospital.” allison breathes out as you all shuffle across the floor, trying not to drop five onto the hard wood floors.
“a kid with a shrapnel wound might raise some questions.” five mumbles, and you sigh softly, relieved to know that he wasn’t dead just yet.
you all manage to get over to the couch and lay him down very carefully, “yeah, well, so does the murder shrine in harold jenkins’ attic.” allison shoots back, beginning to pull off her jacket, “he’s still losing blood. what do we do?”
“we gotta get the shrapnel out.” diego commands, looking up from the boy for a moment, before he seems to get distracted by something, walking off into the hall and not responding when allison calls out to him.
letting out a short breath, you hesitantly move away from five’s side, following where diego went to see what had him so distracted from something so important. you see grace, and diego looks confused, but you feel as if your heart just went soaring. she’ll be able to help five.
-
you sat in the silent room, picking at your nails as you stare at the equations all over the walls, things you could never understand no matter how hard you tried.
after getting grace’s help to remove the shrapnel and take care of the wound, you had calmed down significantly. your heart was no longer beating so fast that you could hear it, and you had controlled your breathing.
now, you sat, just waiting. allison and diego left to chase after another lead for where harold could be, and grace had left the room once five’s wound was clean. it was only you and him. and delores.
looking at the mannequin, you scrunch your nose up, tapping your fingers against your forearm. her lifeless eyes stared into your own, and you couldn’t stand it.
“what the hell are you looking at?” you hiss, glaring at the fake woman. it felt like she was mocking you, even if she wasn’t even alive. “you shouldn’t even be here. it’s not like you’re helping at all.”
you cross one leg over the other, leaning back in the chair you had claimed as you stared at her with narrowed eyes. “you’re just sitting there. you didn’t give him your blood, and you haven’t been the one helping him figure out how to stop the apocalypse. that’s all been me, not you.”
the silence is nearly deafening as you continue to stare into her eyes.
but you were a part of what got him here. you were a part of the reason he had shrapnel in his abdomen, causing this injury.
you sneer, lacing your fingers together and resting your hands on your knee. “i only set off a grenade. i didn’t put the shrapnel in him myself.”
silence, again. you realize then that you had been talking to the lifeless woman, and you groan loudly. all those years of solitude, you had been able to keep your sanity. now, it just may be slipping away.
“you’re only a mannequin.” you mutter, biting at your nail as you start to tap your foot. “soon enough, he’ll see that. he’ll realize that there are actual people around him, and it’ll be bye-bye delores!” you throw your hands up in the air, before you freeze in place.
quickly putting your arms down, you groan once again. “i am not going to do this.” you stand from the chair, moving around the bed and grabbing the plastic form, before throwing her into the wardrobe and shutting the doors on her. you sigh softly, “much better.”
-
taglists:
main: @horrorklaus
tua: @rasberrymay
five: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict @xplrreylo
lstw: @ohmyitsfaith @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @onedollarduck @sleepygal124 @faith-quake @stripedchickens @youcandalekmyballs @pettyjayy @libidinexx @wow-lookit-all-the-fandoms
#five hargreeves#number five#five#five hargreeves x reader#number five x reader#tua x reader#five hargreeves one shot#five hargreeves imagine#tua#umbrella academy#the umbrella academy x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#oneshot series#reader insert#y/n#lstw#let's save the world
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Shield (one-shot)
Synopsis: To the new Captain America she might just be a human shield. But Bucky can see there’s more to it. What he can’t understand is why she stays.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Genre: angst, lil bit of fluff
Warnings: mentions of blood and guns, swearing, torture, low mental state etc.
Word count: 3591
I am going absolutely feral about the fact that a portion of the series takes place in Latvia as I am Latvian :D Just seeing the signs and streets (which are not really ours cause they filmed in Prague, but are similar enough I can envision it), especially because we’re such a small country is amazeballs, so to be in such a huge show with my MCU faves is insane. Had the same kind of reaction to Brooklyn Nine-Nine with Nikolaj and the Captain Latvia episode. Riga hammer for the win :D
P.S. John Walker is not Captain America cause he does not posses America’s ass. Also Zemo is one hundred percent Bucky’s and Sam’s sugar daddy. I won’t accept any dispute over this.
P.S.S. please also remember - John Walker is a character not a real person. John Walker is played by an actor who is doing his job the same way the actor who played Joffrey did. Do not harass him etc. but rather appreciate the insane talent he has. This place is a Wyatt Russell stan place.
P.S.S.S. Kinda spoilers for the show so if you haven’t seen it, don’t read this.
He hated him. Bucky genuinely hates him. He never thought he had despised something or someone so much, not even HYDRA, as much as he hated John Walker – the new Captain America. He wanted to scream at that, at the fact that this arrogant asshole was carrying Steve’s shield, the symbol of freedom and everything good, while in reality, he embodied none of what it stood for.
Walker and what he’d learned his sidekick was Battlestar, had swooped in from a helicopter while Sam and he had been following the Flag-Smasher vehicles, and, well, they hadn’t been a lot of help, which he shouldn’t be too surprised about. But what he had been surprised about was when they’d all been thrown off of the semi-trucks and scattered all around a field, someone else had been in the mix as well.
A young woman with Y/H/C hair and determined Y/E/C eyes was rushing towards them, screaming for them to stay on the ground. When Bucky looked behind, he could see why given how one of the radicalised people had jumped from the trucks and was barreling at them with an automatic cocked at them
But it wasn’t Walker who jumped up running past her, shield at the ready to take on the fire. No. He just remained sitting as the stranger kept her pace. She leapt at the two with a grace of a cat, pushing him and Sam back to the ground and immediately got blown back by the received ammunition, gasps leaving her mouth as the bullets entered her body.
Sam’s wings extended and created a body length shield as Bucky snatched one of the knives strapped to the man’s side and flung it with deadly accuracy into the Flag-Smasher’s neck, dropping him to the ground.
There was blood when he looked back. There was so much blood, and once again it was all over Bucky’s hands, and he couldn’t breathe properly, pressing down on her abdomen and shoulder and side, and. oh god, there were too many bullet wounds...
Two wide Y/E/C eyes stared back up at him, mouth gasping down shallow breaths as he held down on her wounds trying to stop the blood from pouring out. God, there was so much of it.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he gritted, his body trembling. “Well get you help. You’ll be alright.”
But then Walker spoke up, and Bucky saw read because of a different reason. “She’s fine, just leave it.”
His head snapped to see that arrogant bastard cross his arms as he hissed. “Leave it? She’s fucking bleeding out! She took those bullets for you, and you just want to leave it?!”
Walker just smirked, nudging his chin towards her body. “You’ll see.”
“You let her use herself as a shield while you did nothing!”
“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Because that’s her whole point.”
And that’s when Bucky felt her skin shift underneath his hands. Slowly the blood stopped pouring out, Y/N’s breathing evened, and her eyes closed not because death was calling, but because of relief as the regenerative cells kicked into high gear.
Bucky gazed in wonder as the wounds closed up, and when only scar tissue remained he snapped his blue eyes to her, Y/E/C ones already staring back at him.
“Who are you?” he whispered
“A human shield that’s what,” Walker answered in her stead, but Bucky just sneered.
“I asked who, not a what. She’s a fucking person.”
Once more he looked back down and saw a strange look in her eyes. It was as if she was trying to decipher what those words meant, but once the shock from such a huge assault had ended, she gulped down a breath and gave him a crooked smile. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”
A lopsided one came to grace his own face. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”
“Bucky.” Her eyebrow rose. “Well, it’s very nice to finally meet you.”
He smiled at her, and not the painful smile he’d given the senator before her arrest, but a real genuine smile, one that made the skin around his eyes crinkle.
“And it’s very nice you didn’t decide to die on us.”
“Yeah, yeah, can we cut this meet and greet shorter?” Walker interrupted them, and if Bucky hadn’t been holding onto Y/N’s shoulder as she tried to rise from the ground, he would’ve punched the guy.
“I told you she was going to be fine.”
Bucky threw him his best murder glare but stopped when he felt Y/N squeeze his hand as if saying ‘don’t bother.' His brows furrowed in confusion. She just shook her head.
“We should still find you a hospital.” He talked to Y/N directly, ignoring what the new Captain was saying. “It doesn’t matter that you can survive something like that, I’d rather make sure you’re checked out by professionals.
“It won’t be necessary.” Walker slipped the shield on his arm and nudged his partner to start walking with him, pretty much expecting the rest to follow. “It was her choice anyway to take the hits.”
“It doesn’t mean she should!” Bucky pretty much hollered, startling even Sam.
At that, he saw Y/N’s eyes widen and her head snap up to look at him. All the breath got knocked out from Bucky at the emotion in her face. It was like she didn’t believe what he was saying like she didn’t know it was a possibility to not put her own life before someone else’s, that maybe someone is supposed to do it for her, someone could protect her.
“She absorbs fucking bullets and infuses them in her body.” John mocked. “I’d say it’s a win-win on both sides. Everyone else stays safe, and she gets stronger, right? The whole bleeding thing is a hitch in the system, but our guys say with enough scuffles that should stop as well.”
Walker looked at her. Y/N just gulped, staring back down at the ground between her knees.
When he looked back at everything the moment he’d seen Zemo in the cell and the asshole had said something still remained in him from the Winter Soldier, came back to connect with the scene. He’d hated that sentence because Bucky knew it was true. The Soldier would always be a part of him, but that was what therapy was for – to accept it and let go. But in that minute, he wouldn’t have cared one bit if the ruthless assassin came to the surface if it meant snapping Walker’s neck like a stick.
He treated the woman as if she was below him, as if Steve’s shield somehow made him better than her, better than anyone, and yet, even when he’d been given the privilege to carry it, he’d rather use a human person, no matter if they had powers, as a shield.
A soft hand touched his side, and Bucky looked at Y/N, his breathing heavy at Walker’s words.
“I’m alright.” Her voice was softer than he thought it would be. Maybe it was because she was trying to stay out of John’s earshot, but even the gentle whisper made something in Bucky’s chest stir. “Thank you,” she said. “For checking up on me.”
Bucky stiffly nodded, standing up and offering both his hands for her to take, but even with that, it took Sam holding her by the waist to be able to stand. The Falcon had to catch her, in fact, when she took her first steps, an awkward chuckle escaping her mouth.
“It’s been a while since a hit like this.”
Sam quirked a brow and smirked. “You always have a tendency to do stupid shit like that?”
Y/N’s whole body relaxed as he said so, and a sting went through Bucky’s own. How bad were they treating her if basic kindness and a little bit of joking made her feel so safe?
Just as he was about to ask her more, to offer to take her with them, Walker spoke up again. That conversation was an absolute disaster, and the fact that Walker thought Sam and him would actually ever consider working with him on this mission was idiotic.
It ended with the two Avengers watching how Walker threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, making her knees buckle with the weight, her from still regaining strength, but he didn’t care, just dragged her along with him and Battlestar.
“Are we just gonna let ‘em do that to her?” Bucky sneered, arms crossed watching their retreating forms over the field.
He felt Sam glower next to him. “There’s not much we can do.”
He hated that he was right.
Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. One meeting had left him shaken to the core not just about her, but about how there was something deeply off with the new Captain America, that if they didn’t take action something horrible would happen, not just because of his arrogance, but because of some seed he could feel had rooted itself in the other man’s heart.
But by that point they’d been in Madripoor, had met Sharon who’d been on the run from the US government ever since the dismantlement of the Avengers, and had now followed a lead to where the Flag-Smashers had settled in Latvia.
Zemo seemed to not only have a billion cars, but a billion apartments scattered around the world, this one being in the heart of the Old Town.
Bucky was on the roof looking over the twinkling lights of the city. His bed had been too soft as it always was, and even the floor wasn’t it for him, not a wink of sleep coming his way as his thoughts were flooded by Y/N.
Well, the sleep part wasn’t true. He had been able to drift off, only to dream of how the woman didn’t get better, didn’t absorb those bullets and had died right in his arms. That’s when he decided he needed a breath of fresh air.
The sound of shuffling feet made him whip around from the scenic view only to be greeted by a form he’d now recognise in a full-on ski-suit in pitch-black darkness.
“What are you doing here?” Bucky stood up wanting to stride over and check her for any wounds she might’ve gotten while around Walker. Any new scar on her body would mean the same number of teeth he’d knock from that Walmart-version-Captain-America’s mouth.
“Came to warn you.” She shrugged, soft winds making her coat flutter. “John and Lemar are resting, but come morning they’ll be on your ass, so you might wanna make a move now.”
Bucky shook his head. “I don’t get you. You’re nothing like them, I can see that you know how wrong it is, for him to be carrying that shield, that he’s making a mockery out of the name and legacy Steve built, and yet…”
Y/N hung her head lifting her shoulders, hands in her pockets. “I gotta do what I gotta do.”
“He’s an asshole,” Bucky hissed.
Y/N gave him a painful look. “I know. But I don’t have anywhere to go. Besides… you have your own way of making amends. Well, this is mine.”
Dark brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
She let out a painful chuckle, not because of the memories now plaguing her waking thoughts, but because her wounds were still healing, and instantly Bucky came closer and took her hand, running a soothing thumb over her palm. Wounds he was sure were new.
Y/N froze at his touch, and Bucky was about to pull away when she put her own thumb over his. He had to bite back tears at how tenderly she was looking down at his palm. Like no one had ever comforted her when it hurt.
“When the Blip happened,” she started, voice low and quiet. “I watched how my sister and mom disappeared right in front of my eyes. We were driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, and there was a truck before us. It was carrying loads of metal scraps. The driver of the truck got blipped as well.” She swallowed harshly. “I can still feel how the beam went through my shoulder, how it broke the bone and skin, and how I just wanted to disappear like they had just to make the pain stop. But I didn’t. It hurt so bad.” Y/N looked at Bucky, tears running down her face. “It was burning and tearing, and so much pain… and all I could do was scream, but no one heard me because everyone else was screaming, and I was just one of the thousands doing it.”
Y/N shook her head, and when Bucky leaned closer to wipe away the tears, she sighed at the feeling. “I passed out sometime later. From the pain the… well, everything. And when I woke up, I heard people outside the door, trying to rip it open, I could see red lights flashing, but where I expected that beam to be was nothing. When I looked down at myself there was a hole in my shirt, but instead of a hole in my shoulder, a round scar was the only thing left from that moment.”
“They took me to the hospital, and when they tried to put an IV in, my body just swallowed up the needle.” She took a shaky breath, and Bucky squeezed her side. ‘Go on’ he tried to convey with the touch. ‘I’m here.’
“That’s when the tests started. They were fine at first. Blood samples when they managed to get any, saliva and all that good jazz… but then they started poking. And poking turned into slicing which turned into stabbing until I was their personal pincushion, as they tried to see what my body would and wouldn’t take.”
Y/N was shaking by that point, but not because of the wind that had picked up, but because of anger, of the horror, she’d had to go through. It took everything in Bucky to remain calm and let her continue.
“Two years they did that. And then one time they went a bit too far. Someone had stolen a vibranium spear from the Dora Milaje.”
Bucky’s breath got caught in his throat. He wasn’t moving a muscle.
“They wanted to know if I could absorb the strongest metal on Earth, so slowly…” Her hands went to her front, to the white blouse she was wearing and started popping open the buttons. Bucky was just about to protest when he understood.
“They pushed the spear too far.” Her finger ran over a rhomb shaped scar right in the centre of her chest. Right over her heart. “Pushed it right through.”
“How did you survive?” Bucky was appalled, but in awe at the same time.
Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t. I died then and there on the table. They took my body and dumped it in some ditch. From my own calculations, it took me about a day to heal. They’d sown in a scalpel in my stomach a few hours before, so I’m assuming it used that as the binding material for the cells.”
“I was so angry.” She looked at him. “At everyone, at myself, that I couldn’t help my family, that I allowed them to just use me like that, I just went off the deep end. I did so many bad things…” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I read about the Winter Soldier, y’know. His whole thing was efficiency, quickness. I – “ She choked on her words. “I wasn’t. I wanted to drag it out. Wanted to find each and every one of the bastards who laid their hands on me and make them suffer as I did.”
Bucky’s hand settled on her waist as he pulled her closer, feeling her body keen at the motion as she looked for reassurance. “I’m not a good person, Bucky. This.” She motioned with her head to her body. “This is my repentance for what I did.”
“What he’s doing is not right. What they’re making you do is not right.” Bucky shook his head. “Just because it might not kill you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. No one had any right to touch you.”
“It’s the price I pay for what I did.”
“Pain?”
Y/N nodded. “Eye for an eye. Pain for the pain I caused.”
Bucky shook his head. “That’s not right.”
“How else am I supposed to do this?”
“By getting help yourself first.”
Y/N’s eyes widened, and Bucky sighed. He understood how impossible that thought seemed, that someone who’s done so much bad could deserve help from others, but he understood her situation better than anyone. “Being here,” he said, “being able to say these things… I can only do that because I got help. It was mandated by the state, but nevertheless…” Both chuckled at that, and Bucky’s heart lightened at the sound, at the genuine sound of joy from her. “But the therapy… I hate to say this, but it helped. It’s not easy. I sometimes detest going to the sessions, and I might be failing them quite miserably right now, especially with rule number two –“
“What’s rule number two?”
“Don’t hurt anyone,” Bucky mumbled. “And I’ve broken it quite a lot recently, I know that which will either make me end up behind bars or will add more therapy sessions to the list, but I’m not afraid anymore.”
Y/N gulped, gazing just as intensely at Bucky as he was at her. “Of what?”
“Of reaching out.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of asking for help. Of understanding that I deserve help, and I deserve to receive it.”
“Yeah, but the thing is I’m not like you.” Y/N looked away from him. “No one forced me to do this, no one brainwashed me. I did everything out of my own volition. Me. No one else. You deserve that help because HYDRA did all those things to you. You are a victim of war. I’m not. All those horrible things I did… I did them. Not some alias of mine.”
Bucky’s heart hurt at the fact that Y/N couldn’t see she was a victim of her own circumstance, and how now the government was punishing her for it. And that’s when another brick hit him – it was exactly like Isaiah’s situation. Both came from marginalised groups, parts of society where the ones in power have been trying to oppress and control them for as long as he could remember, he just couldn’t see it. He could see Sam’s point of view now. Maybe not as clearly as he should, but he was starting to wipe away the fog.
“They used you just as much as HYDRA used me.” He asserted, and Y/N’s eyes widened at his sure statement. “Just because a pile of shit has a bowtie on now, doesn’t mean it’s no longer a pile of shit… Come with us.” Bucky’s forehead pressed to hers. “Let’s do this the right way.”
“It’s mandated by the US government that I stay by John’s side and help him.”
Bucky smirked at that, nudging his nose against Y/N’s. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re in Latvia then. Besides Captain America has no pull here.”
She laughed, warm breath slipping over Bucky’s skin, and he had to close his eyes as the thought of her breathless and underneath him invaded his mind. “Unfortunately, this deal stands whether I’m inside the borders of USA or outside.”
Y/N looked over the skyline to where the country’s national monument stood. A woman, hands up in the air outstretched with three stars in her palms, with words she couldn’t understand when she'd arrived etched on the granite at the bottom. Some local had translated them for her. For the Fatherland and Freedom.
After the blip and the experiments, she didn’t feel like she had a home. She’d been imprisoned and prodded like some lab bunny to see what her body could do. What her body could be used for.
Bucky followed her gaze as she kept looking at the statue. Different stars, different saying, but still with the same meaning of what he saw when he looked at the Captain America shield. Freedom. Justice. For the love of their home.
Something deep started to burn in her chest, and even Bucky could feel the shift.
A ferocious look appeared in her eyes as she looked at him. “Let’s get that shield.” She wasn’t going to let Walker taint that star, she knew would happen if he had it for much longer.
They’d had a single meeting beforehand, and during that half-hour, he’d been terrified for more than two-thirds of the time about how Y/N might die in his arms, die because she’d taken bullets meant for him.
He was so glad she hadn’t, not because it would be another life lost because of him, but because he felt like he’d found a twin flame – someone who’d understand him and his troubles. Someone he could help.
Maybe that could be the true way he could make amends – help someone in the same situation.
Bucky smiled.
Y/N did so too, and his heart skipped a beat looking at the woman.
Her body might be able to absorb the metals piercing it, Walker might call her a human shield, but he knew she was so much more than that. And he’d spend however long it took him to prove so to her. Maybe even in more ways than one.
_________________________________________________________________
Please reblog if you like this. For whatever reason my Bucky fics aren’t appearing in the tags :(
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Reunion (Senkuu x reader)
warnings: none!
A/n: another oneshot that I wrote a while ago when I was stockpiling imagines before opening this blog. This is my first time writing for Senkuu so I hope he’s not too ooc. I hope you enjoy!
The first thing you saw when you were de-petrified was a man’s face, his long hair framing it. He had a gentle smile as he reached a hand out to you, helping you up off the ground.
“Welcome to the stone world,” he told you. You simply looked around confused, the last thing you remember was being inside your high school looking for your boyfriend, Senkuu, and then moments later you suddenly couldn’t move. You were clearly no longer in your high school and wilderness surrounded you instead.
The man must have noticed your confused face because he said, “you must have a lot of questions, but for now let’s get you back to our base. My name is Tsukasa by the way.” He gestured for the other people accompanying him to follow, as he led the way. You and the three other people who were just de-petrified followed obediently in silence.
You soon reached a large base by a cliff. There were people walking around, each doing their jobs. As you walked they made sure to stay out of the way for Tsukasa, in turn giving you a clear path. He led you to what seemed to be a living space, as there were some people resting in personal rooms. Tsukasa stopped at the end of the hall and turned back to look at the four of you.
“Here are your rooms. You can use this day to familiarize with the place and to get used to the situation, but tomorrow you will receive jobs for you to complete,” he told you, “I can tell you this however. 3700 years ago, all of humanity was petrified and currently we are the only humans who have broken free. My goal is to make this stone world a haven for the innocent young people, to cleanse humanity. So I ask you for your help.”
Hearing this your heart dropped into your stomach. Cleansing humanity? That was insane, sure there were some bad people in this world but there were also good ones. Cleansing humanity wasn’t the answer.
At the moment however, you simply nodded. You knew if you went against Tsukasa nothing good would come from it.
“Excellent. Well if no one has any other immediate questions I’m afraid I have to go,” he said, starting to leave. The other three went into their rooms but you quickly tapped Tsukasa on the back.
“Tsukasa? Sorry to bother you but I have a quick question,” you said hesitatingly.
“Of course. What is it?” He said, turning back to look at you.
“Um well… Have you seen a boy named Senkuu Ishigami around? I was wondering if anyone has seen him. Oh what about a Taiju Oki or a Yuzuriha Ogawa?”
Tsukasa’s face darkened slightly before going back to normal. A shiver ran down your spine. Something about that look he just had scared you.
“Senkuu Ishigami is not here anymore. But Taiju and Yuzuriha are around, their individual quarters are down the hall, you might be able to find them there,” he answered before striding off.
“He’s not here anymore?” You thought, confused by Tsukasa’s wording. You followed his directions and eventually found what you assumed was one of their quarters. You knocked on the wall beside the opening to the room, a curtain separating the room from the hall.
“Coming!” you heard from inside. A couple of seconds later the curtain opened and there stood Yuzuriha. She paused for a second when she saw you before leaping at you for a hug. You hugged her back as she squeezed you tightly.
“Oh my god! Y/n you’re here! It’s been so long,” she said as she pulled back, allowing you to see the tears that had welled up in her eyes, “I’ve missed you so much, Taiju has also missed you! And don’t even get me started on Senkuu. He was looking for you everywhere but we were never able to find you. He said that he’d find you eventually but Taiju and I could tell that he missed you a lot more than he let on.”
“I’m happy to see you too Yuzuriha, although to me it feels like it hasn’t been that long,” you laughed slightly, “where is Taiju anyways? Tsukasa said he was here but then he also said Senkuu wasn’t here anymore? What did he mean by that?”
Yuzuriha’s face fell a little and her eyes darted up and down the hall. Once she saw no one was there she looked back at you. “Taiju is doing a job right now but he will be back soon. Come inside and I’ll try to catch you up to the best of my ability.”
She pulled you into the room, closing the curtain again. You both sat on her bed as she began to tell you everything.
Yuzuriha explained how she was revived by Senkuu and Taiju around a year ago and how they made their way to Hakone to obtain gunpowder. In the middle of her explanation Taiju came in and burst into tears upon seeing you. After squeezing the living daylights out of you, he also joined the explanation. Taiju told you about the year he and Senkuu were alone, experimenting with the revival fluid and trying to survive. They then told you about how Tsukasa killed Senkuu, but he managed to live thanks to the petrification on his neck and how they went separate ways after that to carry out their respective missions.
By the end you were almost crying, having to hear about all the hardships they went through. Hearing about how Senkuu almost died was enough to bring you to tears, but you managed to hold them back. Yuzuriha gently hugged you, trying to comfort you and you appreciated the gesture. After you composed yourself, you looked back at them and asked, “Are you in contact with Senkuu now? Is he okay?”
They both shared a look and smiled at you. “Actually… we’ve been calling him for the past little while thanks to the cell phone he made with the people he met after we separated,” Taiju said.
“We’re working on a plan to secure the cave of miracles so that we can fight back against Tsukasa. The plan is going to be executed in the next few days and we’ll be meeting up with Senkuu there,” Yuzuriha finished. “Do you want to come with us?”
You grinned at the two of them, “do you even have to ask? Of course I’m in.”
(...)
A couple of days later the three of you made your way to the Kingdom of Science’s camp. You nervously walked beside Yuzuriha, with Taijuu leading the way. She seemed to pick up on your anxiousness as she looked at you.
“Y/n is something wrong?” she asked.
“Uh well… I’m just a bit nervous about this operation. I hope everything goes well,” you replied after a second.
“Anything else?”
You sighed, “I guess I’m a little nervous to see Senkuu… For him it’s been almost two years since we’ve seen each other.”
She patted you on the back, “you don’t have to be nervous about that. I’m sure Senkuu will be ecstatic to see you.”
You gave her a shaky smile as thanks when Taiju suddenly stopped after breaking through the treeline. He stood there for a second before rushing forward, you and Yuzuriha quickly following.
“Senkuu!” he yelled, diving to hug the green-haired male who dodged around him before patting him on the back.
“Good to see you too you big oaf,” he snickered. “You too Yuzuri-” Senkuu stopped abruptly as he made eye contact with you.
You simply stared back, tears welling up in your eyes again. Even though it's been 3700 years, he was still the Senkuu you knew and loved. Maybe he grew a little taller and built up some muscle but you could tell just by looking at him he was still the science-loving mad man you were dating all those years ago.
You smiled shakily through the tears. “Hey Senkuu,” you choked out.
Senkuu slowly walked up to you. When he stood in front of you he reached up with a trembling hand and cupped your cheek gently, as if you were an illusion created by his mind. Once his palm met your warm cheek he took a shuddery breath.
“Y/n…” he breathed out, eyes wide and staring at you.
“Yeah it’s me,” you said, placing your hand on top of his, “I’m back Senkuu.”
Tears started to well up in his eyes as he pulled you into a tight hug. You squeezed him back just as tightly, gripping onto the back of his shirt as you let your tears fall. Both of you stood there for a few minutes, not wanting to let go. You did eventually pull apart enough for Senkuu to rest your foreheads together.
“I looked for you everywhere… I was so worried that I would never find you,” he whispered.
“I know, I know… I’m here now though. And you won’t lose me again, I’m ten billion percent certain of that,” you replied with a smile.
Senkuu chuckled under his breath, “stealing my catchphrase are you?”
You laughed as well, “you love me for it.”
“I really do,” he said before pulling you into a loving kiss. Finally you were back in his arms, and you were going to make sure that you would never be separated again. Because you knew that you would do whatever it takes to make sure he didn’t lose you a second time.
#ishigami senkuu x reader#senkuu x reader#senku x reader#ishigami senku x reader#senku imagine#senkuu imagine#dr stone imagine#dr stone x reader#fanfic#imagine
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(I was gonna save this for tomorrow, but FUCK IT) Eyyy, still being salty over here. Pls block the tag ‘rant’ if you don’t wanna see anymore of these. Or maybe ‘anti-scott mccall’ though, tbh, I’m not sure how much fun it would be to follow me if you aren’t anti-scott mccall. I’m pretty vocal abt disliking him.
ANYWAY.
I wanna talk about the concept of Derek being a ‘creeper’ because of all his wandering around the lacrosse field, at lydia’s party, etc. And by talk about, I mean ramble about incoherently. By which I mean, please know that I’m not trying to insult or fight anybody who makes this joke or uses this concept in fic or whatever. I’m just ranting bc I love this boy and his trauma makes me sad.
ANYWAY. (This is insanely long, so I’m adding a “Read More”)
I just have a lot of feelings about people seeing Derek as a stalker/creeper because he keeps showing up at lacrosse practice and in Scott & Stiles’ rooms, etc. It gets mentioned in loads of fics (I see a lot of “Creeperwolf” which I think is supposed to be an endearment?) (And there’s lots of fics that talk about how ‘you used to be/are really creepy, following us around’ Again, not judging) (Dude it’s even a whole tag on AO3 ‘Creeper Derek Hale’) and it’s joked about a lot in fandom (the vine with the ‘every step you take’ song and the swans on the building comes to mind). I see it a lot, and dude, it hurts me.
Let’s look at Derek’s current mental state and what he’s been dealing with, going all the way back to Paige. (Or, tbh, his birth) Derek is a werewolf. He was born a werewolf, to a family of werewolves. He grew up within the supernatural world, in a whole different culture to humans (honestly, my fury at the lack of werewolf culture/history/worldbuilding is worthy of its own post. Let me know if by some ungodly chance, you actually wanna hear my thoughts on it.) and presumably the number one rule in all of werewolfdom is “Keep the Secret.” Now, Derek’s fuckin’ 14/15 (I put his birthday on Christmas, like most of fandom, and if his house burned down when he was 16, in the spring, and he was dating Kate for a while before, he would’ve dated her when he was 15, and we don’t know how long there was between paige and kate, but let’s give him a summer of mourning. So. 14ish with paige) and he starts dating this human. He’s kinda shit at keeping the secret, implying that either he’s only dated werewolves before, or she’s his first girlfriend ever (also implying that maybe some of the people on his basketball team are werewolves, bc they don’t seem to notice his weird way of talking [pack members maybe? fuck, my heart]) and he’s maybe not as careful as he should be. (More implications arise, and we begin to build our own history. If Derek was never taught not to say dumb shit like ‘i caught a scent’ then was he even in public school before freshman year? Were the Hales all homeschooled before high school to help keep the secret? How soon do wolfy abilites arise? Do they hit with puberty? Fuck, I digress.) He says some dumb shit, and Paige gets suspicious. Of course, he doesn’t know that, and he has some kind of meltdown about her eventually finding out his secret. We hear from Peter (who’s villainized, so we’re not supposed to necessarily believe what he says, but what we see in the flashback doesn’t make a huge amount of sense either so *shrug*) that he enlists Ennis to bite Paige, believing that if she is bitten she won’t spill the secret and she’ll be more inclined to accept that Derek is a werewolf. Now, she fucking dies. Paige dies in Derek’s arms because of this, and he finds out at the last second that she already knew the secret. He feels guilty enough abt getting her killed but now he’s got a whole new batch of guilt from finding out that apparently he’s so bad at keeping the secret of his ENTIRE SPECIES that she found out he was a werewolf. She could’ve exposed them all at any time. He had to be terrified. Next, he’s 15/16 and he meets a gorgeous older woman who presumably showers him in affection, and all the horrors that go with that whole situation (I don’t wanna go into detail, because obviously). But again, whether Derek tells her himself or she just knew or she finds out, whatever it is, Kate knows Derek and his family are werewolves. AND SHE KILLS THEM ALL. Derek has no clue what the fuck is going on. All he knows is he is the only link between Kate and his family, which must mean that it’s his fault she knows about them. Once again, he’s revealed the Big Secret and people Died. He and Laura bolt to NY for six years, where presumably they live in hiding thinking the Argents are coming after them to finish off the Hales. Then Laura gets sent a funky letter and goes back to Beacon Hills. Now, we have a lil more confusion (i’ve got a whole buttload of issues with the timeline, but let’s not get into that now) because he says he came looking for Laura, but later he mentions that he knew she was in Beacon Hills and was searching for...whoever burnt down their house...that whole plotline confuses the shit out of me (derek knew kate did it. he blamed All the argents, but he knew kate was involved. So why was Laura looking for the pendant. and if he didn’t tell her then why was he looking for the pendant?? And what did the pendant have to do with the deer and the spiral?? Halp.) but whatever. He shows up and finds his sister dead, the hunters arrive in town the next day, and suddenly there’s an angry alpha Attacking Humans.
We’re finally in the present. Derek has lost what little family he had left, except for a catatonic uncle. He already has two instances in his past where the worry of keeping werewolves a secret has caused deaths. And now there’s this teenager. No, actually, two teenagers. One who was bitten, and one who shouts out “You’re a werewolf!” in the middle of the preserve, instantly figuring out a centuries-old supernatural secret. Derek is fucking terrified, and things are only getting worse. This kid who got bitten? Derek follows him to see if he’s really a wolf, to find out if he knows what’s happening to him, if he believes the other teen. He finds the kid JUMPING OVER PEOPLE’S HEADS in broad daylight in front of everyone. Derek might’ve had a couple verbal giveaways but this is just ridiculous. Then, even better, the kid goes on a date on the FULL MOON with THE YOUNGEST ARGENT. There’s about a billion reasons to follow Scott to the party. It’s a FULL MOON, for one. HE’S WITH AN ARGENT for another. And of course he can’t just walk into the party. He’s fucking 22 for fuck’s sake. This is a high school party. He’d get arrested. And of course he doesn’t introduce himself to Scott beforehand. He has no way of knowing if this kid is on the Alpha’s side. He’s the Alpha’s Beta, it would make perfect sense for him to be obeying the Alpha. OR since he’s with the Argent, maybe he’s working with them. Maybe he’s a plant of some kind. a hunter pet. Laura was used as bait to catch Derek, why not Scott too? But he sees quickly that Allison has no clue what’s going on, at least with Scott, and he takes her home and steals her jacket to lure Scott into the Preserve where he can’t hurt anyone. Then, when he sees Scott get chased by the hunters, with no Alpha coming running to protect him, he decides “Alright, guess this kid’s my ally. Gotta protect him.” Yeah. He says some weird shit. But the evidence points to Derek not knowing much about bitten wolves. He tells Scott that he doesn’t know how to train a bitten wolf, but he does know how to help Scott recover memories (the memory loss appears to only happen in the early days of shifting, which lends more credibility to the possibility that born wolves don’t start shifting properly until later in life [puberty being the most likely milestone] and he therefore has experience with that, but not with the kind of control Scott needs, that he’s known his whole life). Born a werewolf, he’s never considered the bite anything other than a gift. He also just lost his entire family, so sue him for trying to find some kind of connection between them. (It honestly makes total sense for him to use the term ‘brothers’ bc he KNOWs Scott won’t understand the concept of ‘pack’ yet) So, now that’s decided to help Scott, to protect him, he goes back to the school. SURELY now that Scott knows what he is and how dangerous he is when stressed, he’ll reign himself in during lacrosse, or even just back out of it altogether. There are lives at stake here, be them human, or if Scott exposes the secret, werewolves. SURELY this kid wouldn’t put everyone in danger over a fucking game. But no. Not only does he keep flaunting his abilities, but he SHIFTS ON THE FIELD. If Stiles hadn’t Dragged Scott out of there, the entire supernatural world would be EXPOSED by this ONE KID. Derek passed Terrified about a hundred miles back. He’s gotta be fucking out of his mind with fear. I don’t blame him even a little for threatening Scott. If Scott’s not gonna do the right thing on his own, then threatening him is worth it if people don’t DIE. Then, bc Scott’s a pissy baby and goes to shout at him and be a fuckwad, and Stiles is nosey and neither of them have boundaries (I love Stiles, but fucking seriously, digging up a grave?) Derek gets ARRESTED. He pleads with this lanky teen who is brave enough to climb into the cruiser with a WEREWOLF. Who’s FRiends with a Werewolf. Who figured it out so quickly. He pleads with him to understand how dangerous this is, to stop his friend. And Stiles looks like he’s gonna, but Scott bolts bc of the wolfsbane (Which...listen if I’m being really salty, a deep bitter part of me genuinely wonders if he was that freaked out, or if he overheard Derek beg Stiles not to let Scott play, and Scott ran away from Stiles so he wouldn’t get told no, bc he wanted to play.) and by the time Stiles finds him he’s already dressed for the game. And DEREK WAS RIGHT. Scott DID lose control. He DID shift on the field. At LEAST one human saw him shift, and the coach for the other team knew something was up too. He DID expose them, and he did it further bc Jackson is suspicious now. Now, I’ve reblogged a gifset of it before, the moment when Derek shows up at the lacrosse field and finds Jackson standing in it after Scott’s run off, staring at a glove with a claw hole in it. He is watching his worst nightmare come true. Scott has exposed them and Jackson is going to figure out werewolves, just like Stiles did. He knows right that instant that people are going to die. I’ll reiterate what I said in the tags on that gifset. It’s extremely likely that Derek bit Jackson out of self-preservation. Jackson had been threatening to tell the hunters and the entire world if he didn’t get what he wanted. The safest thing to do was give Jackson the bite so that at least he would be putting himself in danger too if he exposed werewolves. He forced Jackson to have to keep the secret for himself because he knew Jackson wouldn’t do it for anyone else. (And he knew Jackson had some self-preservation, compared to Scott, and wouldn’t want to expose himself.)
Listen, I just. I just get so sad watching Derek sneaking into people’s rooms and standing on the edge of the field and showing up in the locker rooms. He’s trying to help. He’s trying to protect. He wants to be there in case Scott does something stupid (which he does, again and Again) to protect him, even after Scott REFUSED to help him stop a SERIAL KILLER because there wasn’t anything in it for him. Even after Scott fucking blackmails him by leaving him hanging on a grate with wires plugged into his side and his abuser on their way back to hurt him, he still helps him protect Allison (who watched him be tortured and did nothing. [He still has the capacity to acknowledge that it’s not her fault. That she couldn’t save him. He doesn’t blame her for it and he certainly doesn’t want her to die.]) He wants to keep his Betas safe. He stands in the parking lot waiting for them to test Lydia because he doesn’t want them to have to go through with killing her alone (and he only tries to kill her because she DOESN’T pass the test [although I admit it’s a dumb test] and because the kanima is KILLING people. More people have died and I don’t know how the fuck Derek manages to keep standing, let alone having such capacity for empathy and optimism and sarcasm after everything he’s dealt with. He’s constantly being hunted by hunters or humans, or fuck even Scott himself, since every time Scott gets upset he blames Derek for everything (I’m still fucking disgusted that he turned up at Derek’s place and accused him of murdering his own sister.) And STILL he shows up. No matter how many times he’s shoved away and ignored and yelled at. He shows up and he stands on the fringes and he waits for the chance to help.
And what’s creepy about that?
#personal#rant#Fuck i love Derek and I'm so fucking sad#i have a lot of feelings okay?#like I said#i'm not judging people who use the concept in fics or who make the jokes or whatever#i'm just talking about my own feelings#anti-scott mccall#Meta Ramblings
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dream lover | lee donghyuck
mafia au, enemies to lovers!haechan (if you squint).
summary: in which donghyuck’s father has forbidden him from ever speaking to you, because your father is his enemy, but donghyuck manages to fall in love with you anyway. and he saves your life.
warnings: none!
requested by @cloudyangers! back in like october, and i just remembered it the other night when i couldn’t sleep and so i decided to write it. it’s not entirely what the request asked for, but it’s what i came up with. i’m actually quite proud of this one! i hope you all enjoy.
word count: 2,395 words.
“so, y/n, what are you doing this weekend?” donghyuck says, quickly taking a seat next to you and putting his arm around you.
“what’s it to you?” you ask, pushing him off of you.
“i’m just curious,” he teases.
“you know that i don’t know anything about what my dad’s up to, donghyuck, so just stop. learn to mind your own business or else.” you threaten. it’s more of an empty threat, though, because you could never live with yourself if anyone got physically hurt because of you. which is why you stayed out of all of your father’s business endeavors.
your father and donghyuck’s fathers have always been rivals, and while your father told you that his business with donghyuck’s father had nothing to do with you and you were free to socialize with donghyuck if you wanted to, donghyuck’s father was not so forgiving. if donghyuck’s father knew that he was sucking up to you right now, even if it was to get information to give to his dad, he would lose it. donghyuck has everything to lose — his family, his inheritance, his home — but he would risk it all if it meant getting to see the way your cheeks involuntarily turned pink when he spoke to you, and the way your thighs pressed together when he played with the ends of your hair. you are his vice.
“hyuckie,” you say, leaning in close to whisper to him. “you know your daddy’s going to kill you if he finds out you’re talking to me, so why do you try it?”
“you’re just too pretty to not talk to,” he says simply.
“and you’re willing to risk a billion dollar inheritance for a pretty face? beauty fades, donghyuck.”
“i don’t think yours ever will, angel.”
you lean in closer to him, your lips so close to his he can feel your hot breath on them. he has to physically restrain himself from leaning in the rest of the way, grasping tightly onto the desk. “flattery will get you nowhere. mind your own business.” you pull back quickly, wiping at your lips as if you really had kissed and picking up your things and leaving. “see you monday!” you say as you leave the classroom. donghyuck slumps into the back of his chair and runs his fingers through his hair.
***
as you walk into your house, you’re greeted by your overly energetic puppy barking up a storm. you pick him up into your arms and start talking to him in a baby voice, “oh, aren’t you just the cutest? yes you are, so much cuter than donghyuck could ever be,” you say pressing a kiss to the top of his head. your mother quickly walks down the stairs of the house and meets you in the living room as you sit on the couch to watch tv.
“honey, don’t forget that your aunt’s wedding is tomorrow. i already had the housekeeper pick up your dress from the dry cleaning and it’s hanging up in your wardrobe. you have to be up bright and early for the bridesmaid breakfast.” she says in passing, heading towards the kitchen.
you groan and in that moment, your father comes down from his office upstairs to join you in the living room. “i don’t want to hear any complaining, y/n. your aunt has been looking forward to getting married for the last year and we don’t need your attitude ruining it for her.”
“i don’t have an attitude,” you say through gritted teeth. “isn’t her husband some huge drug ki—“ you start but are quickly interrupted.
“uh-uh-uh, the less you know, the better. how was school?”
“it was alright. donghyuck talked to me, today.”
“what, again? is he stupid or something?”
“hey! he thinks i’m pretty, he can’t be stupid.”
“what’d he want?”
“he was just asking me what i was doing this weekend. i told him to mind my own business.”
“good… watch what you say around him, i don’t want you getting all buddy-buddy with him all of a sudden. you never know what him and his dad are up to. i remember one time—“
“no no no,” your mother says from the kitchen. “no mafia talk in my house.”
“last time i checked, i paid the bills,” your father says with a roll of his eyes.
“i’m going to my room,” you say sheepishly, getting up and walking up the stairs with your puppy following closely behind. you can hear your parents bickering downstairs as you close the door to your open, shutting the sound out.
the next day, you wake up at approximately 8 a.m. to attend the bridesmaid breakfast your aunt was forcing out of all the bridesmaids. everyone there was twice your age, just a handful of aging mafia housewives who had nothing better to do than entertain the romanticization of being in love with a mobster. the wedding reception happens quickly after the breakfast, and before you know it you’re standing in the back of the room downing champagne as you watch everyone on the dance floor. this wedding is like no other; there are hundreds of people, multiple glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, a cake as tall as the 5’2 bride, and the majority of korea’s most dangerous men under one roof. mafia money at its finest.
as you scan the room, you lock eyes with the person who’s seemingly just walked in and your smile drops. you run quickly over to him and pull him towards the back exit.
“donghyuck, what the fuck are you doing here?” you say loudly, trying to make sure your voice is heard over the loud music. “you can’t just fucking show up here like this, do you know who is here? if anyone had seen you, you would’ve been dead by now! you’re lucky it was just me.”
“y/n, we need to leave. now.” he says urgently.
“what? are you insane?” you ask. “i can’t just leave, i’m one of the bridesmaids,” you point towards the dress you’re wearing.
“that’s cute and all but seriously, y/n we need to get out of here right now. the police will be here any minute.” he grabs one of your arms to pull you out the back exit, but you tear your arm from his grasp.
“the police? did you call them? oh my god, you’re stalking me, aren’t you. this is why you wanted to know what i was doing this weekend? so you could call the police and get my entire family busted? some fucking guy you are.” you’re about to walk away but he grabs your arm again.
“y/n, please, i’m begging you just listen to me. i didn’t call them. my dad planted someone to work for your dad and he’s been working with him for the last 6 months, he was the one who told him what was going to happen. my father submitted an anonymous tip to the police about the wedding and now they are on their way. you need to leave with me, now. i don’t want you to get killed.”
“and why not? i don’t think your daddy would be too happy finding out that you’re trying to make a quick getaway with his enemy’s daughter.”
“i’ll be damned if i’m not the person to take you out, y/n. i refuse to let anyone else be the one to kill you.” he says, but you can tell he’s still unsure if he means it or not. but before you can say anything snarky in response, you hear screaming in the other room and gunshots. donghyuck quickly pulls you close to him and pushes you both out of the back exit. you want to run back and check if your parents are okay, but you know that they aren’t. the gunshots are constant and you don’t know if they’re police-induced or not. all you know is that it’s getting harder to breathe as you run down the street, donghyuck pulling at your arm and dragging you to his car. your heel breaks in a crack in the sidewalk and you reach down, quickly taking both of your heels off and abandoning them in the street as you keep running. when you reach his car, donghyuck pushes you into the passenger seat. once in the driver’s seat, he quickly turns the car on and starts driving away from the chaos. you stare out the window and let the tears flow freely down your face.
twenty or so minutes later, donghyuck pulls over in the middle of the freeway. you turn over to face him, mascara-stained cheeks and he looks at you with pain visible in his eyes. you want to ask him why he saved you, what his plan was, where he’s taking you, but before you can find the right words to say his hands are cupping your face and his lips are pressed against yours. it takes you a moment to respond, but you relax into his lips and kiss him until you can’t breathe. your kiss is messy, full of tongue and teeth, but his hands never once move from your face. you are the first to pull back, needing to catch your breath. you stare into his eyes as your lips are ghosting his, the feeling of his breath fanning your lips.
“why did you save me?” you whisper, feeling tears brim in your eyes.
“i told you,” his hands fall from your face and into his lap. he pulls back and rests his head on the steering wheel. “i told you, i’ll be damned if i’m not the person to take you out.”
“donghyuck,” you say sincerely, causing him to look back up at you.
“because i don’t think i could’ve lived with myself if you ever got hurt,” he confesses.
“donghyuck, but your dad—“ you say, unable to find the right words to say. “he hates me and my dad, he would be so upset.”
he faces forward and grabs onto the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. he lets out a sigh and continues: “i turned my dad in.” now he is the one letting tears fall down his face. your eyes widen and instinctively one of your hands reaches out for his. he intertwines his fingers with yours as he cries in his car.
“y/n, my dad has been doing bad things for as long as i can remember. i vowed to myself that i would never become like him. and i always admired you for staying out of your dad’s business as much as you could, it was the smart thing to do. but my dad wouldn’t let me, he was always telling me everything that he was doing. part of me believes that he was doing it so he knew he wouldn’t go down alone… and then yesterday he told me that someone submitted an anonymous tip to the police about the wedding, and i recognized the last name from the family tree presentation you gave in class… and once i knew you were involved is when i drew the line.” he takes a deep breath, wiping the tears away from his face. “and so i stayed up all night and gathered whatever information i had on my dad and i called the police in the morning and i left to go get you just before they arrived at my house.”
“oh, hyuckie,” you say softly, tears falling down your face now too.
he turns to face you and squeezes your hand. “i love you, y/n. and i know you probably don’t feel the same way about me, but i mean it. i never want to love anyone else.”
you let out a giggle and wipe some of your tears away with your other hand. you raise it to cup donghyuck’s cheek and smile at him. you’re overwhelmed with feelings after hearing his confession, and your heart starts beating faster as you make eye contact with him. he looks at you with so much love and adoration that it hurts to breathe. “i love you,” you say back. “no one has ever cared for me like you do, hyuckie. the fact that you would put everything on the line just for me… wow. i don’t know what to say. you leave me speechless yet again, lee donghyuck.”
donghyuck captures your lips in another kiss and this time, he’s the one to pull away to catch his breath. “run away with me, y/n.”
“you’re crazy, donghyuck.”
“i’m serious. there’s nothing left for us in this city, we can pack everything up and move to another city and start our lives over. free of all this mafia bullshit.”
you fall silent for a second, thinking about his proposal. your silence worries him, he can’t help but be afraid that you’re going to say no.
“what about money? what are we going to do?”
“i’ll take care of it, don’t worry. i have enough money to move us a few cities over and for us to restart. just say you’ll go with me,” he says.
“okay.”
“okay?”
“let’s do it,” you say. donghyuck cracks a smile. “but first…”
“first?”
***
you step into your house, peeking into the living room and your puppy jumps up from the couch to come greet you. donghyuck follows shortly behind you, watching you contently as you crouch down to pet your puppy.
“donghyuck, meet tobio,” you say. donghyuck crouches down and tries to pet him, but he growls at him. “noooo, tobio, we don’t do that, we love hyuckie.” you turn to face donghyuck and press a quick kiss to his lips. “he’ll get used to you, i promise.”
you stand up and run your fingers through your hair, tobio pawing at your legs wanting you to continue petting him. donghyuck straightens up, and quickly pulls you into a hug. your head rests on his chest, as he presses a kiss to the top of your head before resting his cheek on it. your arms are wrapped tightly around his waist and his scent manages to calm the erratic butterflies in your stomach.
“i love you,” he says, closing his eyes.
you press a kiss to his chest. “i love you.”
#nct#haechan#donghyuck#lee donghyuck#nct haechan#nct donghyuck#nct 127#nct dream#nct u#nct smut#nct fluff#nct reaction#kpop#kpop drabbles#kpop scenarios#nct au#mark lee#nct 127 smut#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 angst#nct 127 scenarios#nct angst#kpop female addition#kpop angst#kpop smut#donghyuck au#haechan au
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What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader Season I
Chapter 7- The Day That Was
Summary: Five has popped in from nowhere, yet again. Now you, Diego, Five, and Allison are on the hunt for an important file.
Masterlist - where all the other chapters are⚔️
Tagged: @sambucky8 @white-wolf-buckaroo @2cuteforyourlies @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 @thatfandombitcch @alonewolfsblog @starrrybarnes @winterboobear11
“Who the hell is Harold Jenkins?” Questions Diego, bewildered at the random insignificant name Five just handed Allison on a folded piece of paper. Five glances up at the six of you, who are all gathered around Allison in various states of befuddlement. He lets out a short huff before taking one more sip of coffee, promptly chucking it behind him where it soars across the room forgotten and out of sight.
“I don’t know...yet. But I know that he’s responsible for the apocalypse. So we have to find him. And we have to do it now.” Explains Five, setting up a new plan of attack.
“How is he connected to what’s gonna happen?” Wonders Luther doubtfully.
“I don’t know.” Answers Five, Diego cutting in with his own questions, “Wait so you just know his name? That’s it?”
“That’s enough.” Assures Five to the rest of you. You let out a snort, amused by his ready-to-go vagueness.
“There are probably dozens of Harold Jenkins in the city.” Adds Diego, making a compelling point, how are you guys supposed to find one guy within the giant populous of the city?
“Well, we better start looking, then.” You deadpan, not thrilled with the idea of playing a game of Where’s Waldo.
Five then goes on to fully explain the reasoning and valuable information about how he came to the conclusion of Harold Jenkins causing the apocalypse. Further diving more in depth about his former employer and what the Commission is, as well as what it does, which is to protect and maintain the timeline. It’s a large informational dump, but it does clear up more about who Hazel and Cha-Cha are. As well as what they do, so they’re timetraveling assassins who help keep the timeline in order. And you already thought your life was weird enough.
Five finishes his little rant, the rest of you all beginning to speak out at once, rambling on with more opinions and unnecessary questions. Allison commenting on how completely insane everything he just said sounds. Five’s head snaps up at that, “You know what else is insane? I look like a 13 year old boy. Klaus talks to the dead, Y/N can get shot in the head and come back to life, and Luther thinks he’s fooling everybody with that overcoat. Everything about us is insane. It always has been.” You nod at that, Klaus adding his two cents from his spot laying on the couch, “He’s got a point there.”
“We didn’t choose this life, we’re just living it. For the next three days, anyway.” Five ends with, hoping everyone will see the importance of sticking together. “But the last time we tried to stop it, we all died. Why is this time any different? Why shouldn’t I go home to my daughter?” Worries Allison.
“Because this time, I’m here. We have the name of the man responsible. Guys, we actually have the chance of saving the lives of billions of people. Including Claire.” Replies Five, a new determination pushing him forward. Allison’s eyebrows furrow in thought, “You know her name?”
“I do, and I’d like to live long enough to meet her.” Five tells her honestly.
“All right. Let’s get this bastard.” She agrees, walking closer to Five. “You had me at Gerald Jenkins.” Says Diego, you roll your eyes, Five correcting him “Harold Jenkins.”
“Whatever it is. Too many people have been killed his week, let’s not lose anyone else.” You add, walking towards the door.
“You, Luther?” Five says, surprised that Luther hasn’t joined the band wagon yet. “Yeah, you go. I’m gonna stay and go through Dad’s files. I still think this has something to do with why he sent me to the Moon.” Luther tells all of you, his mind still dead set on the Moon and why he was sent there. You roll your eyes, Diego speaking up at Luther’s unwillingness to help, “Seriously? Now you wanna make the end of the world about you and Dad?”
“No. “Watch for threats.” That’s what he told me. You think that’s a coincidence? This all has to be connected somehow.” Luther explains while looking to each of you expectantly. “No, we should all stick together.” Allison reasons, trying to get Luther to see the light. “We don’t have time for this.” You groan while reaching out to touch Diego’s arm, you just really want to leave and get on with things.
“Let’s roll. I know where we can find this asshole. Klaus, you’re with me and Y/N.” Beckons Diego, nodding for him to follow.
“Yeah. I...I’m good. I think I’ll, uh...I think I’ll pass,” He says from the couch while waving him off, “I’m feeling a little under the weather, so..uh...” He trails off, getting up and walking past you, Diego, and Five.
Diego and Five look to you for an answer as Klaus walks away and out of sight, you just shrug your shoulders, “The worlds a rainstorm and he’s but a tiny rain forest ant.....I don’t know, lets just leave.” You tell them with a sigh as you start walking towards the front door, the two of them following.
“When did you get all metaphorical?” Says Five.
“Since today.”
“That’s right my babes a smart one.”
“Someone has to be...and Diego it’s not gonna be you.” Five lets out a choked laugh at your teasing comment.
“I’ve missed you guys.”
——
Surprisingly enough, Diego had the right idea when it came to finding this Harold Jenkins guy at the police station. They have all the records of almost everyone in the whole city, so Jenkins record has to be here.
Diego pulls up to the side of the building, while you look out the window at the bustling city life, thinking to yourself about how none of these people could even begin to dream of the life you live. They’re all blissfully oblivious to that fact that the actual apocalypse is supposed to be coming in a couple days. None of them have a goddamn clue. They don’t know what it’s like to die, or what a heartbeat sounds like in the chest of a terrified teenage robber. They’ll never know what it feels like to look at their own reflection in a bullet, as it flies past their head. When it seems like time is rolling in slow motion, and you’re the only one fast enough to react. They have no idea, and they’ll never carry the memories of taking another humans life. But no life you have ended was ever innocent, and the world can sleep a little easier with the loss of another rapist or murderer gone from the streets.
You stay silent as Diego and Five start talking about this Jenkins guy. “I know this Jenkins dude has to have a record. We gotta get our hands on his file.” States Diego, but you do wonder how he’s gonna pull this off.
“And your plan is to what? Waltz in there and just ask for it?” Sasses Allison, doubtful about Diego’s confidence.
“I know the station like the back of my hand, sis. I’ve spent a lot of time inside.” You snort at that, “Behind bars or handcuffed.” He glares at you through the front mirror, you just smile sweetly at him.
“Whatever. Here’s the plan.”
“Plan? I’m just gonna blink in and get the file.” Five says matter-of-factly. Diego shakes his head, “No, that’s not...You don’t know the ins and outs of this place, okay?” Diego jabs defensively.
“I literally just did this yesterday.”
“What.”
“My yesterday, not your yesterday. It’ll take me two seconds. Why don’t I just go?” Argues Five clearly confused as to why Diego is being difficult about this simple task.
“Listen to me. You are not going in there. I made a call. That’s what a leader does. He leads.”
“Okay then Mr. Leader, get the damn file.” You grumble, wanting to get on with the day, considering there’s only three left. He gives you another fake mirror glare, before opening the door and getting out.
——
While Diego is off and away, getting that file, you’re currently leaned against a marble wall of some giant building, Five doing the same to your left. The both of you listening to Allison’s attempt at calling Vanya, who doesn’t appear to want to answer. Finally Diego walks around the corner, “So?” Asks Five pulling himself off the wall.
“You’re welcome.” He says while Allison snatches the file out of his hand. Suddenly her eyes go wide, “Holy shit.” She exclaims, taken aback by whatever she’s looking at.
“What?” You question, leaning in closer to see what the big deal is.
Allison turns the file around so the three of you can see the photograph of a man, “Harold Jenkins is Leonard Peabody.”
Your brows furrow in confusion, “Am I supposed to know who the fuck that is?”
——
It feels like you’re playing a game of clue or something of that nature, the file leading the four of you to Harold/Leonard’s house in some suburban neighborhood. You all get out of the car, making your way up to the front porch. “Be careful, okay? We don’t know what Peabody’s capable of.” Warns Allison in that concerned motherly tone of hers, it’s almost comforting.
“Yeah, he didn’t seem dangerous when I first saw him. Looked kinda scrawny.” Replies Diego taking the lead up to the house.
“Yeah, well, so are most serial killers and mass murders.” Allison adds, you laugh at the irony. “Exactly, I mean look at Five.” You tell them, Five gives you a half offended look while muttering a short, “Thanks.”
Five and Diego continue their way up and onto the front porch, slowly walking towards the door. As they’re doing this, Allison goes to the right, heading for the back entrance. You pause on the sidewalk, right in front of the house, while looking up at the roof where you spot a window into the upstairs bedroom, bingo. Crouching down ever so slightly, you spring up, hurling your arms upwards for more momentum as you launch yourself onto the roof. And she lands a perfect 10, outstanding, you think chuckling to yourself. Both Diego and Five completely unaware of yours and Allison’s absence, you continue to the upstairs window. The window’s locked but like that’s going to stop you, you grip the bottom of it and push up, snapping off the lock as you lift it. Giving yourself access into the house, you stick a leg in, ducking under as you make your way inside. It’s clean enough, and best part, there’s no house alarm. You have a look around at your current surroundings, nothing seemingly out of the ordinary that would raise any alarm bells, in fact the place is kind of a bore if your being honest.
Walking down the wooden stairs you see Allison and Five making their way towards the front door to unlock it for Diego. A second later Diego comes bursting through the glass, crashing into the floor and making a nice mess in the process. “Subtle.” Comments Allison looking down at him. Five walks over to the door handle, turning the knob and opening it, “You know, the door was unlocked.” He tells him. You make it to the first step, watching in amusement as Diego picks himself up, “Dramatic, as per usual.” You quip, Five and Allison snickering as Diego just grumbles, “Yeah, well, my way works just fine.”
He stands up, flicking loose pieces of glass stuck to his jacket, “Spread out. Yell if you, uh.... you know, you’re in trouble.” He sighs, walking away and into the living room.
“Ah, inspiring leadership.” Comments Five bluntly. “One of the greats.” Adds Allison as the three of you watch him limp away.
“If we ever have kids, I hope they’re not that stupid.” You mutter, Allison lets out a loud laugh as she turns to you, her face breaking out into an amused smile. Five just shakes his head with a tiny smirk lacing his boyish features, he then moves to walk away and into another room.
You shrug, walking back up the stairs, Allison trailing behind you. She searches in some guest room, as you slowly walk down the short hallway, your nose catching the scent of something odd, you look up. The attic door, “Well this has never let me down in any horror movie. There’s gotta be some creepy shit up here.” You mumble to yourself, incredibly curious as to what you may find. Reaching your arm up, you grab the dangling handle, firmly pulling down the retractable steps. Letting curiosity take the better of you, you march up the wooden step-ladder, only for your eyes to land on the entirety of the Umbrella Academy in its prime. All your faces scratched where the eyes should be, plus a multitude of figurines, some of which are broken and melted. Definitely not weird or anything, totally normal.
“Guys, you’re not gonna believe the weird-ass shit I just found!” You shout down to them, excited about your creepy horror movie like find. You can hear the thumping of their shoes as they all race to where you are from their various spots in the house. Allison peaking her head up first, the others following suit. They all stand around behind you, taking in their peculiar new surroundings.
“All our faces are burnt off.” Says Allison, freaked out and bewildered by this wild discovery.
“Well, that’s not creepy. This guys got some serious issues.” Mumbles Diego, who’s leaning down to get a better view of the damage.
“I was hoping our breaking and entering would lead to something interesting, I didn’t exactly have weird-man-child-obsessed-with-childhood-heroes in mind.” You muse, picking up a half melted figurine of yourself. Your face scrunches up into a grimace at the ugly sight, you then turn to face the others, gaining their attention.
“Look. Mine even has orange eyes. Special Edition Number Eight.”
“That’s nice Y/N. Mine doesn’t have a head.” Retorts Diego.
“Five you still look like your figurine, it’s like a freaky spitting image.”
“My hair looks better.”
“Amen brother.”
“Y/N I can’t say the same for yours..ah don’t hit me I’m kidding.”
“This was never about Vanya. This was about us.” Exclaims Allison, getting more disgusted by the second as she quickly gathers the attention of the three of you.
Without warning Five falls to the floor, making a loud thud. You all turn in concern, “Five. What...” Allison trails off, getting down on her knees to better assess the situation, you set your half melted Special Edition self down on the shelf, turning to do the same but on Five’s left. Your eyes catch a deep red stained to his fingers. A subtle whiff of blood dissipating off of Five.
You lift up his uniform shirt to better see the damage, he’s got a nasty piece of metal shrapnel stuck in his side. “Jesus, Five.” Whispers Diego, concern lacing every word.
“Five what the fuck, I was wondering why I could smell blood on the way here.” You glance at Allison for a fraction of a second, she thankfully doesn’t catch what that glance was implying, you’d be laughing at the thought if not for the current situation. Five just groans, “You have to keep going. So...close.” He whispers, passing out once again.
“Five. Five!” Allison shouts as the both of you try and shake him awake. It’s no use, he’s to exhausted.
“Well, shit.” You add dryly, positioning yourself to lift Five’s unconscious body up.
——
Diego holds open the Academy’s door as you quickly make your way inside, holding a barely conscious Five in your strong arms. Allison and Diego right behind you, “We should have taken him to the hospital.” She whisper yells.
“A kid with a shrapnel wound might raise some questions.” Five mutters tiredly, as a stream of blood runs out the side of his mouth.
“Yeah, well, so does the murder shrine in Harold Jenkins’ attic.” Presses Allison, making a solid point. You finally reach the living room couch, laying Five down as gently as you possibly can.
“He’s still losing a lot of blood. What do we do? We gotta get the shrapnel out.” Worries Allison, looking to you for guidance. Diego randomly walks past the two of you, seemingly abandoning ship, nope he’s just found Grace who’s apparently fixed and about to walk up the stairs.
“Diego, where are you going?” Allison calls after him, but he completely ignores her.
“Fuck Diego, we don’t have time for this. I’ll get the medical stuff...just uh...keep the old guy awake. I’ll be right back.”
——
You’re leaning against Five’s wardrobe as Grace puts a fresh bandage on his wound. Your mind flashes to the times when she would have to do the same thing to you, after countless dangerous missions. Although she would actually just be painfully dislodging the shrapnel, doing her best to be as gentle as she possibly could. Those metal and glass pieces would have left you for dead, if not for your miraculous healing capabilities.
Diego leans against the door frame as Allison walks up behind him. “Anything?”
“There’s no answer at Vanya’s place. And the receptionist at her music school said she was a no-show for her lessons today.” Replies Allison, nervous as to where her sister could be.
You turn around to face them, as they both walk into the hallway. You keenly notice how Diego’s face looks almost slightly startled to see Grace up and active after what he did.
“D, you okay?” You whisper walking closer to him and Allison. “Yeah. I don’t know, it’s just surreal seeing her. I just wanna tell her that I’m s...” he doesn’t let himself finish, not wanting to reveal any important details that Allison is unaware about, “We don’t have enough time. We gotta go.” He says, turning for the stairs. “I don’t know, Diego. Five is laying there, unconscious. We need him.” Pleads Allison, holding Diego from taking off just yet.
“We can do this ourselves.” He says, his voice laced with determination. Crossing your arms you take a deep breath, “We did that already, remember? Long story short, we all died.” You sass, also wanting to stay and wait for Five.
“I’m thinking I should go back and see Claire before...” Starts Allison, Diego cutting her off, “You can’t run away from this, Allison. That’s what started this whole mess in the first place.” Diego pauses for a moment sighing, “Luther was right.” He admits, both you and Allison giving him a look. She scoffs, surprised, “I didn’t think I would ever hear you say those words.” He gives an apprehensive smile, “Yeah, well... we gotta stick together.”
You nod towards him, “Alright, hot stuff. Where do we start.” You ask him. He flashes you a small smile, “There’s no other addresses in the file, but there is another relation listed. Jenkins’ grandmother. She lived near Jackpine Road.” He explains turning to walk down the steps, you and Allison following suit.
“You think he took her there?” She wonders.
“I wouldn’t mind a late night drive, it’s a good enough place to start anyways.” You conclude as the three of you make your way through the Academy and out the front gate.
Continuing your way into the street, “Nope. Come on, this way.” Diego says, pulling you in the opposite direction of two police cars sitting further down the street. “Wait, but the cars back that way?” Allison says, troubled as to why Diego refuses to go in that direction.
“Trust me, okay. Come on.” He quickly says, walking briskly away from the cruisers, you lightly touch his right arm, quickening your own steps.
“What’s up with the cops?” You whisper, he doesn’t look at you.
“They think I killed Patch. Because of all the evidence and all my finger prints were on everything.” He mumbles, your brows furrow in frustration, “What the hell? But I was there too? Guess I didn’t touch anything.” You state puzzled, just as blue and red lights begin flashing behind the three of you.
“We’re gonna have to split up, okay. I’m in charge. Remember Vanya needs you two.” He tells you, his face showing deep worry. Why must things always go wrong?
You grab his hand, holding it tight, “Don’t say or do anything stupid, okay?” You warn him, as Allison turns to quickly flee the scene. You squeeze his hand, “I love you.” You whisper quickly, before jogging away from the cop cars, as you hustle after Allison. You can hear him mumble a quiet “Love you too” as the police cars speed into view. You glance back, your heart stinging when handcuffs are forcefully placed on his wrists. Guns drawn on him, you’d love to kick those pistols right out of their grasp. But alas, you push onward, getting into the passenger seat as Allison starts the engine, taking off down the avenue and towards this house out in buttfuck nowhere. This whole evening has had quit the turn of events.
#diego hargreeves#the umbrella academy#diego hargreeves x reader#diego hargreeves x you#the umbrella academy x you#falcor the luck dragon stories#what a time to be alive fic#tua#number two
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System76 Spotlight with Adam Balla
Welcome to the first of an ongoing series where we get to know some of the amazing people behind System76! This week, we kick things off with one of our newest members, Adam Balla (AKA chzbacon), who has just joined the Marketing Team as our Content Producer. Learn what makes his content creation heart go pitter-patter, and why his electric smoker is his must-have cooking appliance.
When did you first become interested in Linux computer systems?
When my roommate introduced me to Slackware in 1999, he was working as a Linux system admin and he really got me interested in Linux. I was going to the Art Institute of Houston at the time for a Multimedia Design degree, and the thought that you could create your own desktop operating system really appealed to me. I didn’t need to stare at the same old tacky operating system I’d used for years.
I found myself, like many nerds of the era, at a Micro Center in the early 2000s rummaging through the discount software bins, trying to snag up multi-CD Linux distributions. This journey exposed me to several of today’s most popular Linux distros. One of those was SUSE Linux 5.3, of which I still keep the tattered book on a bookshelf as a reminder. I did however finally find my place in the world of Debian, which is where I essentially live today. Honestly not much has really changed other than using Pop!_OS as my main distribution—though like any Linux diehard, I still love to download, test, and sometimes install all the Linux.
When did you start becoming a champion for open source hardware and software?
It was a few years after that. Once I got back from the Art Institute and I was working in the area, we needed a server for the screen printing shop that I worked at. Knowing about Linux at that point, I was able to set up a server using consumer-grade gear that we could store all of our artwork and assets on. Moving forward, I set up a server for the newspaper that I worked at for a decade, which I know is still running to this day. After using Linux in that sort of environment and knowing it was good enough for a business, I knew it was good enough for me and my needs.
How did you get involved in content creation as a career?
My father was an engineer. When I was young I was always, like most kids, into drawing cars and doodles and cartoons, but I was used to having a drafting table at the house. Computing came around, and my father bought an IBM 486 and one of the original digitizing tablets, and so I got to play around with that. Eventually, he got upset because I was on the computer more than he was, so he bought me an IBM 386 to use.
Around 1995, my dad learned from a coworker about Photoshop. I begged him to get me a copy, and he finally did for Christmas. That’s when I started playing around in Photoshop and really fell into wanting to create for a living. Similar to what my father does, but maybe not as stringent in the decision that I make—no building is going to fall down from my creative process.
And that’s how I got into the whole content creation piece. I created a cover for the album of my high school bands and then started doing work for more local bands. Back then, there were no digital art courses, so I learned a lot by doing and trial/error.
What is your favorite part of the creative process?
Working together as a team during the initial brainstorming process. Going through all of the ideas and details, sometimes writing them down, sometimes not, and even laughing at myself at how ridiculous an idea may sound. I love the process of the very first step. I love to set the vision for the project work from there to turn that vision into reality.
How did you first learn about System76?
I first learned about System76 through Chris Fisher and Jupiter Broadcasting. I believe they were reviewing the Leopard Extreme in 2012, on what at that time was the Linux Action Show. That’s when I started to look at System 76 and their offerings and wondered if it would be better for me to build my own Linux desktop, or adopt something and support the open source community. It’s been a little while since then, and I’ve always kept my eye on System76. Then with the release of Thelio, that really pushed me to the point of, “Wow, these guys are creating their own beautiful custom chassis and they’re incorporating different materials together. What a beautiful machine.”
I was speaking to my wife (financial advisor) about purchasing one in 2019, and I spoke to Emma and some other people at System76 about my desire for one, and I don’t know how, but Emma encouraged me not to buy one! And then I was given the opportunity to come to System76 for the Superfan event, where I was fortunate enough to be one of a dozen people who were gifted a Thelio desktop. It sits on my desk to this day; I even bought a larger desk just so I could put it up there and see it every day. I really appreciate the humble beginnings of System76, and I’m so glad to finally be a part of this amazing team.
Let's get into that creative brain. What is your favorite viral video and/or ad, and why do you love it so much?
I have a few ads that I like. I’ve always liked Honda’s messaging and their ads.
I like these ads because of the way in which they go through their history and lineage and the way that Honda itself has marketed its products as “People First” products—very similar to when they introduced their motorcycles to the US with their “You meet the nicest people on a Honda,” campaign. I think that was in 1962, so this was during the height of the motorcycle gang craze. Then comes this little Japanese motorcycle company and markets their products in a completely opposite image from the rest of the industry. They dared to be different and it paid off for them. Selling over 100 million Honda Cubs since 1958. Being given the title of most produced motor vehicle in the world.
This may come as a surprise to some, but I also really love the original Orwellian-inspired Macintosh commercial, which only aired once during the 1984 Super Bowl. Created by Steve Hayden, Brent Thomas and Lee Clow. In my opinion, these guys really created disruptive advertising, so much so that the ad still resonates today as much as it did then. While I don’t think you need to incite fear to sell a product, it showed that Apple dared to be different.
I’m not sure what constitutes a viral video these days. I’m not sure if it’s having a billion trillion views or just simply infecting one person who saw your video. One that always gives me a chuckle has to be “News Anchor Laughs At Worst Police Sketch Fail”. The honesty on the anchor's face makes me lose it every time.
When you’re not helping to lead the Open Source revolution, what do you like to do with your free time?
I really like going on walks and taking photos. Photography to me is one of the last honest art forms. What you see really is what you get. I love to tinker and make things, I have a 3D printer that my wife and I purchased as a joint valentine’s gift to each other last year. We started using it right when COVID broke out, so we made around 900 face shields which we distributed to schools, day cares, dentist's offices, anyone who needed one. That’s what we did for about the first 6 months when we first got it. Now, my wife loves to print earrings, for example, and I like to build different fun electronics projects.
I also love to cook, especially for large groups. I just got done with an Easter Weekend + Birthday celebration where we cooked 100 lbs of crawfish, 10 lbs of pork shoulder, sausage, and boudin (which is basically rice and pieces of pork that have been mixed together with seasonings and then put into a casing like sausage). One of my main requirements actually for a place in Denver is somewhere I can bring my electric smoker. It’s a must-have for any Texan.
What are you most excited about with your new role here at System76? To help change the computing landscape as we know it today. Into a future where technology is free and open. A world where you're encouraged to break things, fix things, and learn how they work. Aside from changing the world and stuff, I'm really excited to have a chance to work with such an insanely talented group of people.
#system76#open source#content#content creation#linux#hardware#software#firmware#laptops#desktops#servers#Thelio#Pop!_OS#Launch#Adam Balla#chzbacon#Jupiter Broadcasting#meat#nerd#covid 19#Ubuntu#Debian#SUSE#engineering#design#STEM#3d printing#creative#Denver#Texas
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halloween scare || r. drysdale
Summary: Ransom takes you to a ‘Haunted House’ on Halloween night.
Warnings: mentions of sex, dirty talk, and a lot of swearing, but a lot of fluff too.
Word Count: 1.2k
I used two Halloween prompts for this fic;
“There’s a reason why sensible people don’t go into haunted houses, this is it.”
“You’re about as scary as a kitten, kitten.”
I did not make up these prompts!
A/N: here’s a lil something to make up for my inactivity these past weeks, and also because Halloween is my favourite time of the year.
Walking down the sidewalk that stretched out the distance between mine and Ransom’s house to whoever’s house we had just left, Ransom swung our hands back and forth as they interlaced. His other hand was stuffed in his lab coat. He was dressed as a doctor for Halloween, and I a nurse. Not the typical nurse costume, it was way more modest, just a pair of scrubs and a stethoscope. We were talking about all the sticky drunk people making out in every corner of every room, eliciting laughs and groans of disgust from each other.
“Yuck. I don’t understand why people need to showcase their tongues down other peoples’ throats. It’s doing nothing beneficial for anyone else, unless they get off on that shit,” he ranted. A soft chuckle escaped from my lips, and my hand left his so both could come up to wrap them around myself. I should have thought ahead and brought a jacket; the chilly late October breeze was unrelenting.
Ransom had noticed my chilled state, and without even a second of hesitation, removed his lab coat and opened it behind me so I could put my arms through. I thanked him, so which he returned by planting chaste kiss to my forehead, returning his hand to mine.
Occasionally, we passed kids, usually the older ones, who were still trick-or-treating.
“You know, I never went trick-or-treating as a kid,” Ransom stated abruptly, his stare kept on the ground. I turned my head to face him. “What do you mean?” I questioned gently. He drew in a sharp breath, huffing it out, creating a cloud in the air.
“My parents never had time to take me, and by the time I was old enough to go by myself I was already in a billion different clubs, classes and extra-curriculars to even care about Halloween.” He gave me a sad smile. “It’s something I’ve wanted since I was old enough to feel unloved; to have kids of my own one day, to have them know their loved and not have to question it.” He was looking back at the ground now. I stopped on the sidewalk, turning to face him. I pulled him back by the had to face me.
“When we have kids, we’ll take them trick-or-treating together every Halloween. We’ll carve insanely horrible jack-o-lanterns, and then stuff ourselves with candy corn while the kids are asleep. But as for tonight, I’ve got other plans.” I said, bringing him in to a slow kiss, my hands pulling gently on his hair. I pulled away, and without shame, whispered the most dirty, sinful things into his ear, biting his earlobe softly.
“Mmm, that sounds nice…” he said back, in a soothing tone. “But I’ve got a surprise for you first.”
He grabbed my hand and led me through twists and turns, the streets slowly turned into ones I didn’t recognize. His pace quickened as we neared our destination, and he abruptly stopped when we were standing in front of an old house, the only one on the street.
It was fully dark, and the house was surrounded by trees leading into the forest behind the house. The shudders on the windows were broken and mangled, the brown siding falling off. Thick fog surrounded the steps, and a mangy looking cat walked across the porch railing. The full moon cast a glow on Ransom’s sharp features, and I gave him a blank look. The grin on his face spread into a devilish smirk, inferencing the mischief to come.
“Ransom, what-“
“Shhh, pretty girl,” he said, pressing a finger against my lips. He grabbed my hands and led me towards the door of the house. I watched as the door slowly creaked open, then shut abruptly with a slam. More fog poured out of the house.
“There’s a reason why sensible people don’t go into haunted houses, and this is it,” I argued, trying to tug his hand, but it was no use. He just let out a laugh and continued on up the steps. When we reached the door, he cautiously grabbed then door knocker and banged it against the oak four times. Holding my breath, I squeezed Ransom’s hand.
“Relax, pretty girl, there’s no such thing as monsters-“
Four hands with long, slender fingers suddenly reached out of the door. Three grabbed Ransom, and one covered his mouth. He was pulled into the house, and the door shut again. A blood-curdling scream left my throat, but it died in my throat when I whipped around, to see a man dressed in all black, aside from the Jason mask, walking towards me while dragging a baseball bat on the ground. I was caught between running or hiding, and my body took over and I started pounding my fists on the door.
“Let me in! Please help me!” I bellowed.
The door swung open, and I fell forwards as my weight was leaning on it. I crawled backwards, and the door shut in front of the man with a bat, just as he was going to come inside. I was left in total darkness. I scrambled to my feet, wiping my hands on my scrubs. My heavy breathing was all I could hear.
I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket, and pressed the on button continuously, but it was dead. Great, just my luck.
“Fuck me,” I whispered, my breath still heavy in my chest. I squinted my eyes to try to see something, anything, but it did nothing for my current visual impairment. Suddenly, a warm breath fell to the back of my neck, and rough hands crept up my sides. I was frozen, I couldn’t even tremble.
“Gladly,” said a voice I could have known, but it hadn’t registered in the fear of it all. My mouth opened to scream, but a hand left my side and covered my mouth. The lights abruptly turned on, and I opened my eyes.
I heard boisterous, wheezing laughter to the left of me, and looked over. There, Meg and Marta stood clutching their stomachs with grisly gloves on their hands. Directly behind me, Ransom was laughing into my shoulder, uncontained. I spun around and punched him hard in the arm. He winced and rubbed his shoulder.
“You asshole! What the actual fuck!” I yelled out profanities, walking forward, backing him up against a wall.
“You know I scare easily! What in the hell was that for? And you even got them in on it!” I said pointing to the pair, still hunched over with tears in their eyes.
“Baby, baby I’m sorry! It was just so funny and-“He rubbed his other arm after I punched it.
“You better be fucking ready, because I’m going to torture the shit out of you, until you’re screaming for me to stop instead of screaming for me to keep going,” I said, just above a whisper so Meg and Marta couldn’t hear.
He smirked at me. The bastard smirked. “You’re about as scary as a kitten, kitten.”
He’s an asshole, but he’s totally “whipped” for me, as our friends say, and I love him.
PERMANENT TAGLIST:
@kyrarose16
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