#put the caps lock back on its getting serious
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littlxpxtal · 2 days ago
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I wish I never met you
TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST
PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader
WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence
WORD COUNT: 2.5k
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Mixing liquor and pot
Heard your brain cells can rot
If my memory was shot
I would like that a lot
I wish I could forget you
May
It was all a blur. The whole day. Zipping up my gown, putting the bobby-pins in my hair to situate the cap on my head.
I wish I could say graduation was the best day of my life, but I barely remember any of it. My name rumbled through the field, my legs moving without a thought. I moved my lips up on my face for the picture, shook hands with faculty that I had never seen or spoken to in my entire life.
The dinner with my parents was bland. They went on and on about college, asking me questions about what I decided to study. I don’t even remember the answer I gave.
I didn’t come to reality until the third time my phone rang while I laid on the edge of my bed, head hanging off the edge with my eye closed, a random record playing on my turntable was at the end and a soft humming noise filled the room.
I decided to finally check who it was, and to no surprise it was Sabrina.
“Hi” I mumbled into the phone, flipping over onto my stomach, one hand barely holding up the phone while the other dangled towards the ground.
”You done with family shit yet?”
”yes.” I answered simply, closing my eyes.
“Well I know you’re out feeling the best but, I really think you should come with me tonight.”
I groaned into my sheets.
“Sab” I whispered, my voice shaking.
“You can’t let this take over your life, y/n. We only graduate high school once.”
her positivity sickened me. I knew she was right. I didnt want her to be.
“Sab its the same shit we’ve been doing all year, what is different about tonight?”
“Well there’s no risk of expulsion”
”hah” it was her turn to groan in response.
“Y/N, im spending the whole summer abroad and I leave next week. I seriously need you to do this for me.”
”you cant pull that shit on me Sabrina its not fair.”
”but its true, y/n. You’re my best friends and I need you. You were a fucking zombie today. Snap out of it.”
there was a period of silence. I sat up in my bed and turned the lamp on.
“Well, what should I wear?” I can tell she tried to hide it, but I could hear her squeal on the other line.
“Cute top and a skirt.”
”I can make that work”
”fuck YA THERE SHE IS” she cheers into the phone. “I’ll pick you up in 15.”
We arrived to see the beach was already filled up, party in full swing. Sabrina gave me a reassuring look before we walked towards them.
”Let’s get some drinks. You deserve one” she says to me. I nod my head, following her lead.
We make our way over to the nearest keg, taking one of the many cups the boys were passing out.
“Grab me two” I whisper in her ear. She smiles wide and winks.
”That’s what im talking about.”
I chugged the first cup,passing it back to the kid who was pouring them out, he filled it back up and we walked with our cups to the dance floor.
“You gonna double fist all night?” Sabrina asks over the music.
”that’s the plan” I mumble back. The speakers are booming a new Metro Boomin song, and we make our way to the group of girls that are dancing.
I lose track of time, and snap back into reality when I notice Sabrina furiously texting on her phone.
“What’s up?” I ask. She hesitantly looks up, and locks her phone, sliding it back into her purse.
“Nothing, just, Toppers here. But, he’s with … his friends. So im just gonna stay here for a bit.” She awkwardly looks away, makes eye contact, then looks away.
“Sab, its okay, I would be an idiot to think he wouldn’t be here, especially with your boyfriend. Go say hi.” I give her shoulder a nudge and she shakes her head.
“No, im here with you.”
”im serious Sab.”
”just one more song. Who knows how long he’ll keep me on his arm if I go now.”
”you know I can fend for myself.” Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift starts playing on the speakers and Sabrina jumps up and down.
”I know, but I LOVE this song”
She starts leading us to the middle of the circle, and we sing to each other, as if we were the only two people on the beach. By the time the song is over, were doubled over laughing,our drinks spilt all over the sand.
“Im gonna go get another drink, you go say hi to topper okay?” She frowns and reaches for my hand.
”Fine, but I’ll be right back okay?” I roll my eyes.
”I told you I’ll be fine. Just go okay?” She smiles and skips away. I watch her walk over to the other side of the crowd, where a group of guys are standing, including Topper, Kelce, and, well of course, Rafe.
I notice everyone’s in conversation, expect for him. He’s just sipping from his cup, staring out into the sea.
I catch myself staring for too long, and realize i'm still in the middle of the dance circle, with two empty cups. I look around for the nearest keg and walk slowly over.
I made empty conversation with the girls standing around the keg while waiting in line, checking my phone every so often. The DJ continues to play songs I like, including pursuit of happiness, collard greens, Roll in Peace and more.
I find myself tipsy, dancing by myself in the sea of people. By the time I finally looked at my phone again, it had been an hour and I had a text from Sabrina.
were fuckin in my car really quick lol I’ll be right back.
that was from 5 minutes ago, so I probably wouldn’t see her for at least another half an hour.
I was tired of dancing, so I started walking towards the edge of the party, closer to the water.
The temperature outside was perfect. There was a slight breeze, not enough for me to put my hair up, but enough to get a whiff of the sea.
I pulled my phone out to take a picture of the water and the moon, before I heard a shout.
“Fucking BITCH”
I could recognize that voice anywhere. I whip my head to the right and see Rafe and another figure a few yards away.
everything in my mind told me not to go. But my heart was controlling my feet. I walked closer, and realized the other person was Noah.
“You ruined fucking EVERYTHING” Rafe growled.
“I didnt do shit expect tell her the truth man. She’s a dirty fucking shut,all you did was make sure I knew.”
I tensed up, and made eye contact with Noah. He smirked and looked back at rafe.
“Perfect timing, y/n, we were just talking about you!” Noah exclaimed, splashing the liquid in his cup in the air.
Rae whips his head back and stares deep into my eyes.
“Y/n,” he whispers. My body is still tense.
“Wh-whats going on” I ask
”your boyfriend - sorry I mean .. your confusing complicated situation ship over here is harassing me.”
rafe keeps his eyes on me. I cant read his expression, he looks empty.
“Maybe, if you just stayed in your place on the cut, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” Noah shouts at me.
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.
I decide its just best if I leave. I start to walk away and hear Noah chuckling.
“This is all YOUR fault” Rafe yells, lunging at Noah. Noah swings back in defense, and I stop in my tracks.
“STOP” a scream escapes my lips and I run over. Rafe is knocked to the ground scrambling to get back on his feet.Noah kicks him back down, and I hear a sharp click, and notice something in Noah’s hand. The smile on his face is terrifying, and as I get closer I realize its a switchblade.
“My god Noah put that thing away.” I whisper.
“If rafe wants to fight, we can fucking fight.”
He points the blade down at rafe who is still struggling to stand.
“Noah, seriously,” I walk towards him and his eyes flicker towards me, down at rafe and back at me. He points the blade up at me, and I start to shake.
“You’re insane” I whisper, taking a step back.
While he’s distracted, Rafe takes the opportunity to pull Noah’s leg, knocking him to the ground. The blade falls from his grip into the sand, and I lunge to get it. He reaches after it too, our bodies colliding. Rafe pulls him away from me while I grab the knife, and he pins Noah down, punching him straight in the face.
“That’s ENOUGH” I shout at the two of them. They both freeze and look up at me. The knife is dangling from my hand pointed down.
“Noah get the fuck out of here. And don’t EVER pull this shit again. You’re just embarrassing yourself.” He scrambles to his feet, patting the sand off his pants.
“Give me my knife back y/n” he commands. I shake my head.
”I’ll give it to you when you’re sober.”
he looks over at rafe. Something in his face must’ve scared him, because he makes a beeline back to the party.
I walk slowly towards rafe and pass him the knife. He safely closes it and stuffs it in his pocket.
“What’s wrong with you?”
He huffs, brushing sand off himself. He turns to look at the water, and his shoulders slump.
”I wish I knew” he whispered. After a brief moment of silence he turns to me, with sadness in his eyes this time.
“Look, y/n, im really-“
”I don’t want to fucking hear it okay? How many times are you going to put me through this. Like seriously?”
His jaw twitched and he looked down, running a hand over his hair.
“It hurts. It hurts so fucking much to see you hurt” he finally says.
“Then why do you keep hurting me?”
the sound of the waves and music behind us fills the silence.
“I don’t mean to. I just keep fucking up.”
I sigh, unsure of what to say. He takes a step towards me, I flinch slightly, which he notices, and makes him sigh.
“Sometimes I cant tell” I start to say. He looks up at me and takes another step forward.
“Sometimes I cant tell if you like me or hate me” I whisper the last part.
“Neither” his voice cracks slightly, and he looks up at the moon.
“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you, y/n. And I don’t, I don’t just like you, okay? I don’t just like you I fucking-“ he stops himself, his voice getting hoarse. “I fucking love you okay? And its driving me insane.”
I furrow my eyebrows and let out an involuntary laugh.
”the fuck are you talking about Cameron?”
he looks back at me, his face hard and serious.
“I mean, im fucking obsessed with you. I can never get you up of my head, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. You’re always just THERE. All the fucking songs you’ve showed me, all my favorite shows and movies. God even my favorite color. Its just you, and its always been you. It’s fucking terrifying, did you know that?”
”I-I-“ I stammer. He takes a step closer.
“I think about you when is wake up, when I eat breakfast, when I work out, when I do homework, when im smoking, when im drinking, when im high out of my fucking mind, when im sober, when im driving around town. All I see is you. You’re fucking everywhere and I cant get you out of my head.”
”it sounds like you don’t want me there.”
”that’s the problem is I DO. I want you there, I want you with me. And I finally fucking had you, and I just-“ his voice breaks again and he closes his eyes.
“Just don’t know how to keep you.”
”rafe” I whisper, walking towards him to close the distance. “Rafe, why didnt you tell me?”
”god y/n, you don’t even know how hard it is. Im dealing with all this shit in my head, and I wanted to save you from it but you made your way deeper into my life than ever before, and I couldn’t hide you from how fucked up I am. I tied you into this mess, and it’s not good for you.”
”why did you tell Noah that lie about me and JJ?”
”I told him because he was bragging to everyone about taking you out. I was pissed that someone else was going to take you. I was jealous. I didnt think it was going to hurt you the way it did.”
”why didnt you just tell me before he even asked me out. We were seeing each other-“ he cuts me off
”because y/n, its easier for me to do shit like that than it is to express my feelings okay? I cant do this love shit easy alright? It doesn’t come naturally like it does some people. It’s fucking terrifying”
his breathing is ragged, and he starts to clutch his chest.
“It gives me these chest pains like I cant fucking breathe.”
he huffs out, trying to catch his breath. I notice his face is flustered.
”cmon, lets sit” I grabs his hand and pull him down onto the sand,
“its okay just breathe” his pants slow down, and I wrap my arm around his shoulders.
“It’s okay” I whisper again. He leans his head on my chest, and I hear a sob escape his mouth.
“Im so fucking sorry. Im so fucking sorry” he repeats this over and over a few times before going quiet.
”I know you are.” I finally say.
We sit in silence for about 5 minutes before its interrupted.
”Y/N! There you are-“ Sabrina cuts herself off when she sees us, Topper trailing behind her.
“I knew it” I heard him whisper to her.
”well, did you guys kiss and make up” topper slurs. She shoves his chest, letting out a giggle and a hiccup.
“You guys have been boning for hours now”i shoot back at them. Topper lets out a nervous laugh and Sabrina hides her face.
“Well, are you guys going to come join us or?” She asks. Rafe sits up and looks at me
“Can we start over?”
I smile at him, stand up and reach out my hand.
“Rafe?” I whisper, he takes my hand and stands up, his figure looming over me.
“Yes, pretty girl?”
”i Love you too.”
Previous Chapter | Instagram AU
Tags: @ltristessedureratoujours @davinashifts333 @tomholland792
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luigilore · 10 days ago
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i can’t stop thinking about cuddling with lu and him whispering the sweetest things to u while you’re like nose to nose as close as u could ever be😔
ughhhh anon stop this is so good :’) he would love cuddling im imagining him getting home from work and just like melting into your touch…. sometimes u have nights where ur both just attached to each other… and the bed… and just spend all night talking and cuddling, whispering the sweetest promises <3
this is a short little blurb about it i hope u enjoy <33
You're so close that you can see the details of Luigi's face so perfectly; highlighting the pointed slope of his nose, the stubble across his jaw and down his neck, the freckles dotting his cheeks, the hazel flecks in his eyes. He lets you toy with his fingers, fitting them in and out of your palm.
“Hi,” you whisper after a few minutes of silence, slightly leaning off of him to settle into the crook of his arm, letting his hand that was wrapped around you trail along your spine to settle at the small of your back. Luigi’s large palm spreads over your skin, pushing up your thin shirt to press against your bare skin, his warm hand meeting your equally warm back.
Your lips brush against his now close shoulder and move silently to kiss his neck and you smile against his warm cheek that’s pressed close against you, feeling a satisfying prickle of stubble against your skin.
Luigi lifts his head to look at you pointedly- and suddenly. He always becomes endearingly earnest at night, alone in bed like this, impossibly intimate. “I think I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you," he starts slowly but continues, "I don’t know what it means. I just know- I don’t think I could ever not love you.”
Your chest swells with an overwhelming amount of love. “I wouldn't want you too,” you say softly, intertwining your hands and tucking yourself even closer into his chest that you can feel his heartbeat. “I love you too, you know.” 
“You’re so pretty,” He murmurs in the brief pauses of the steady sound of his heartbeat, pressed closely against your cheek. You laugh into his skin and Luigi watches the way his words make you smile, so warm and comforting and genuine, and he thinks that’s all he wants to do forever and ever. 
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Some sort of hive mind thing
Written for the Kissing Booth bonus card of the @steddiebingo
Prompt: Body Swap
Rated: T
Words: 975
Tags: POV Dustin Henderson; Body swap; Secret relationship; Coming out; Implied sexual content (very brief, very vague); Crack and humor
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“Okay, the others are on their way.” 
Dustin puts the walkie back on his bedside table. The alarm clock tells him it's a little after four in the morning. When he tries to tug on his hat to ground himself, he realizes he isn't wearing one because he's still in his pajamas. Biting back a yawn, he snatches his Thinking Cap from its hook on the wall and puts it on. He feels like he's going to need it. 
“While we wait, walk me through this again,” he says, turning back to the two miserable figures sitting side by side on his bed. “Steve?” 
“Yeah?” says Eddie. 
Dustin blinks. He can practically feel his brain whirring in his skull as it recalibrates. Sweet mother of all that's logical, this must be the fourth-most bizarre thing that ever happened to him. 
“Oh, wait,” says Steve. “If you say Steve shouldn’t I answer? Wouldn't want half the town to find out about this. I've barely even shaken the satanist allegations. Better not add body snatching to the list.” 
“The fuck?” Eddie hisses. “First you steal my body and now you're taking my name, too?” 
Steve grins, wide and toothy, fluttering his lashes exaggeratedly. “Let's table the discussion about who's taking whose name for later, big boy. We've more important stuff to figure out right now.” 
Okay, make that the third-most bizarre thing. 
“You both went to bed as usual,” Dustin says over the ensuing string of bickering, wondering not for the first time who's babysitting who here. “Then, a few hours later, you woke up to discover that you're stuck in each other's bodies.” 
Eddie-who-looks-like-Steve snorts a laugh and Steve-who-looks-like-Eddie elbows him.
“Quit it! Be serious about this!” 
“I’m trying to, but he said stuck in-” 
“Did anything happen last night?” Dustin asks. 
They both flinch. Eddie attempts to pull a lock of hair in front of his face but grasps at thin air. 
“Did anything- … I have no idea what you- … Nothing happened! Nothing at all!”
Dustin raises an eyebrow at him. Eddie starts chewing on Steve’s knuckles.
“Really? You sure? Nothing strange or out of the ordinary? I need you to think real hard about this, it could be important.” 
Steve shrugs, raking a hand through Eddie’s hair and frowning when his fingers get stuck in the frizzy mess. “Dunno, man. Our life's pretty much an endless string of freak incidents, so it's kind of hard to say what qualifies as- Gross, dude, stop chewing on my nails.” 
“It helps with my anxiety, and you have mine,” Eddie grumbles, but he still stops chewing. 
“Which is why it's crucial,” Dustin shoulders on, “to look for patterns. There must've been something that caused this, and there must be a reason why it happened to the two of you. Oh, you think it has to do with the bats? You're the only ones who got bitten, so maybe that's the connection. Maybe it's some sort of hive mind thing.” 
He has started pacing up and down in front of the bed, but at the corner of his vision, he can see how Steve squints Eddie’s dark brown eyes at him. 
“But that was months ago,” he says. He’s still wearing Eddie’s rings, Dustin notices. Eddie has pulled their hands into his lap and started fiddling with them, muttering something about how they won't fit Steve’s stupid, giant saucer hands. “Why would it happen now?” 
Dustin snaps his fingers. “Something must've triggered it. There must've been some kind of dormant connection the entire time, and one or both of you must've done something to activate it.” 
He stops pacing and turns to them, only to find they’re not looking at him anymore. Instead, they’ve ducked their heads together and started muttering among themselves in hushed voices. Dustin catches the words oughta tell him, and wrinkles his brow. 
“Tell me what?”
“Okay!” Steve screws Eddie’s eyes shut and pinches Eddie’s nose. “You know how you asked me to drive you to the arcade last night?”
“And you told me no because you had this big, important date?” Dustin rolls his eyes. “Sure. What about it?”
“And how you called me after?” Eddie says. He has started pulling on the ends of Steve’s hair now, and it seems to be getting frizzier by the second. It looks a bit like regular Steve put his fingers in a socket. “And I said I’d love to chauffeur you, but I couldn’t because I had already made plans?”
“Yes,” Dustin deadpans. “You were both completely and utterly unhelpful and I had to cycle all the way there in the dark and the wind, thank you for reminding me. Now what does this have to do with any-”
“Dustin,” says Steve. He looks at Eddie, then down at their entwined hands. Pointedly. Dustin feels his jaw drop. 
“Oh,” he says. “You mean you were- … You both couldn’t make it because you were each other’s- … Oh! Oh my God, please don’t tell me- … Were you two making out?” 
Silence drops. Somewhere outside, bicycle tires crunch on gravel, heralding the arrival of the Party. 
“Sure,” says Eddie. “Let’s call it making out.”
Dustin groans, turning to open his window. 
“Let’s try to keep this between the three of us,” he hisses. “The others don’t need to know this.”
“What?” Steve grumbles. He’s always blushed easily, but now, with his newly acquired pale complexion, he looks like an Eddie-shaped lava lamp. “These kids have dealt with interdimensional monsters and telepathic wizards, you’d think they’d be able to stomach two guys kissing.”
“That’s not it,” Dustin says, and now it’s his turn to break into a smug grin. “But Max bet me twenty bucks you wouldn’t last until Christmas, and I'm broke, so I'd appreciate it if she wouldn't find out just yet.” 
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More Steddie bingo
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archangelsunited · 2 years ago
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WIP on the Correct Day.
Tagging: @kookaburra1701@orfeoarte@gilgamish@thana-topsy@changelingsandothernonsense@tallmatcha@snippetsrus@rainpebble3@rhiannon1199@inquisition-dragonborn@the-storytellers-seer@thequeenofthewinter@elfinismsarts@paraparadigm@friend-of-giants@saltymaplesyrup@weirdponytail@ms-katonic-of-tamriel@mareenavee
Little something I cooked up so I would cook something else.
               “Look, I’m just saying that crossing the border in the year of your divines 201, might not be the best idea.” You stooped down to pull at the laces of your boots. Your husband, six and a half feet of dark green orc, is staring at your backside again. It is fascinating how the love of a big ass will travel across time, space, and culture.
               “And I’m just saying, its none of your business how I earn my money.” You turned to look at his face, which was a bit blank. He had been upset since you had taken the job as a courier. Something something, stronghold, something something, stay in the kitchen. You stopped paying attention after he brought up the word “female”. You didn’t have a dick in this life, which was a bit disappointing, but the chest was an improvement. Sex was fantastic, multiple orgasms for the win.
               “Look, I don’t care if you’re selling Falmer Blood Elixir, or if you’re robbing priests at knife point.”
               “Neither of those.” He rolled his eyes at you.
               “I CARE about you being near the border of Skyrim and Cyrodill this year.” You pulled on the stupid looking cap that completed the look.
               He held up his hand. “I swear on the name of my father, I won’t go near the border.”
               You were pretty sure he was lying, since the last time he swore on the name of his father he had cut the man’s head off with an ax. Still, if he was determined to get himself killed, there wasn’t much you could do to stop him.
               “Alright, then. I’m going to Dawnstar, I’ll meet you in Whiterun in a few months, yeah?” You tried to drink in the details of his face. The broken tusk, the scar over his nose- it was unbearably precious to you.
               He reached forward, putting a big hand behind your head. He pressed his forehead against yours. His breath was heavy in your face and it made all the blood in your body rush to your face. You placed your hands on the sides of his neck. Your fingers brushed the muscles along his spine.
               “Ozor, I am serious.”
               His hands wrapped around your waist, squeezing slightly.
               “I’ll see you in Whiterun, then you can ride my face.”
               You sighed. That was going to be the best you were going to get.
               <<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
               Ozor woke with a crick in his back and the taste of blood on his tongue. Someone had taken the Amulet of Mara from around his neck. His hands were bound.
               “Hey, you. You’re finally awake.”
               Ozar groaned. He had a fleeting thought to listen to his wife more.
               <<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
               You were on your third day wandering around Whiterun when someone spots a dragon. You took that as your cue to get the hell out of dodge, but the guards have already locked down the city.
               “Look,” you said to the guard at the gate. “I’m a lollygagger. I have nothing to do, and no coin with which to do nothing with. The best thing you could do- no, your DUTY to your Hold is to let me get eaten by a dragon.”
               “Aye, most likely.” The guard nodded in agreement. “But if the Jarl says the gate stays shut, then the gate stays shut. But I’ll take your offer to stand as dragon bait under advisement.”
               You were about to argue some more, and the guard was about to let you. He was as bored as you were, when the gate creaks open, just a smidge, and an orc stumbles through. He’s charred, missing a bit of one tusk, and a bit of his hair is burnt off.
               He looked suspiciously like your husband.
               He was wearing some blue armor that is barely strapped on to his chest, and some pants that look about twelve inches too short.
               “You, hey you.” Your voice wass almost cracking with excitement, or would be cracking. “You ran right into that-”
               “You had to turn up at the gate?” Your husband asked. “You had to turn up at the gate, so you could personally deliver the I-told-you-so? And how the fuck did you know-”
               Ozar gave a rasping cough, then bent double.
               “It doesn’t matter how I knew.” You said, with the air of someone who was going to be thoroughly fucked (hopefully, it had been a dry bit of time. You’d been saving the coin for a private room when he got there). “What matters is you didn’t listen to me.”
               Ozar let his weight fall on you completely.
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crystalelemental · 2 years ago
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Legendary Gauntlet (Entei/Cobalion/Azelf)
I had to go back and check, but for anyone wondering, yes, we’re already repeating Gauntlet layouts.  This is the same spread as the very first Gauntlet.  Highly doubt that we won’t see other combinations, but that is weird to me.  Anyway this one’s set to be pretty easy, so we’ll probably get a lame cooki-IS THAT WEATHERED WARRIOR?!
General Overview Okay so this one's important.  Weathered Warrior is like the only offensive skill worth talking about over Crit Strike 2.  Fortunately, they threw us an easy spread for it, too.
Entei, Azelf, and Cobalion are relatively easy to handle.  I'd probably put Cobalion as the most difficult, since it's pretty much just weak to Electric.   That's not entirely true, a strong enough Tech nuke can work with burn, but like...you'll see what I mean.  The good news is, all three can be flinch locked, so having flinch rate is highly valuable for this run.   Azelf is also particularly weak to Sleep chaining, so that's an easy allocation there as well.  Is there's any real challenge we'll see, it's that all three are pretty physically offensive.  Azelf's sync is physical and pretty scary.  Cobalion is raw physical power, so lacking a sturdy frontline tank means you're in Big Danger.  Meanwhile Entei has a lot of AoE broadly.  The point is, defensive play will matter here.   Not so much that it'll be impossible to clear stuff without it, but enough so that you can't sleep on it.
ENTEI Entei's fight is categorized by a single, glaring flaw: this dude has like no flinch resistance at the outset.  It builds up by 1 stage of resistance every time it recovers, but early flinches get you a lot of time.  This is the basis for a lot of solos against it; good self-setup and high flinch are important.  However, Entei has some tools that make it nasty to fight.  It has permanent screens, and boosts a stat every successful action - Defense in Bar 1, Sp Def in Bar 2, and Speed in Bar 3.  It also buffs crit.  Which is terrifying for sides, since Entei also throws around AoE, with a notable guaranteed burn and Piercing Gaze in Bar 3.   Entei can get dangerous in the later phases, when capped crit and serious damage gets thrown around.  Flinch really is the ideal solution to mitigate these issues, but it doesn't hurt to have the ability to block or remove status conditions, so options with Full Heal are particularly nice.
Mercifully, Entei is weak to Water, which means you have a metric ton of options even among F2P.   Beating Entei is not all that challenging.  But avoiding losing to Entei can be rough if you don't bring appropriate tools.
Team 1: Sycamore, Barry, Thorton Sycamore and Barry are an ideal combination, with Sycamore providing Barry all the buffs he needs to sync like a maniac.  Thorton is chosen because, while slow, Thorton has a good flinch rate, and the low speed is offset by Sycamore easily.
Team 2: Cheren, Whitney, Siebold This is one that comes with a little risk, but is possible with Whitney's flinch rate and general utility.  Siebold is basically an autonomous damage dealer, with a crazy good sync nuke.  Cheren has decent enough defensive profile, and Full Heal to keep the team alive.  Whitney has not just flinch, but a self-healing move, allowing her to sustain much more effectively.
Team 3: Cyrus, Winona, Drake This team is pretty safe.  Winona and Cyrus can buff their own speed, offsetting the fact that Drake is slow as dirt.  Drake offers Team Sharp Entry, which drastically boosts Cyrus' chance for Crit Focus 2 by just spamming Hydro Pump under Winona's rain.
Team 4: Crasher Wake, BP Morty/BP Clemont, Tech Gyarados I feel at least somewhat justified in this, given the current rerun of the Golden Magikarp event.  Crasher Wake has a great flinch rate, and a decent sync nuke, with pretty easy self-setup.  Tech Gyarados supplies rain, has its own good flinch rate, and Hyper Beam for DPS as needed.  I will say, gauge issues are likely to exist on any of these comps, but it shouldn't be too bad with Wake.  If you really, really want to aim for that flinch, Morty.  If you want to debuff defenses so Wake hits harder, Clemont.  Either way, the focus is buffing defenses for survival.
AZELF Azelf is scary.  I remember that the first time I fought this one was in the first Gauntlet.  These fights weren't permanently available, and it hadn't rerun, so I just got to be surprised by the fact it packs Mind Games 4 and Defense Crush 4, and then bumps that to Team variants in Bar 2, and has an absurdly powerful sync nuke, and also damage reduction from moves, physical in the first half of every bar, special in the second.  Azelf's also particularly tricky because you deal with special attacks in the first half, but then get blasted by a physical sync. Azelf's kinda rude that way.
What Azelf doesn't block is sync damage.   Sync nukes will bypass its shenanigans just fine.  Sleep is also exceptionally powerful, as it does not build to immunity, allowing a good sleep chain to completely ruin it.  Having a Stalwart/Unbending combo on your frontline tank is also wildly valuable, as this blocks the Team effect in later phases, preventing debuffing entirely.  The only major issue is dealing enough damage, and the fact it's Bug-weak.  That is not a great type to have to put up with.
Team 1: Ramos, Viola, MU Torchic Honestly, I believe in them.  Viola isn't the greatest tech nuker, but with sleep chaining you don't have to be.  Now that Torchic can cap special attack and crit, Viola's in business as a potential damage dealer.
Team 2: Agatha, Ghetsis, Rosa Ghetsis needs very little for his setup, and Rosa's a safe enough pick.  Agatha can sleep chain, and notably gets +6 speed on her trainer move, and MGR9 on Hypnosis, which is what honestly sets her up so well for a slow pair like Ghetsis.  This also approaches Azelf another way: debuffing offenses, which is pretty effective against this thing.
Team 3: Tech Exeggutor, Noland, BP Morty This team is focused on the fact that Noland can be completely self-sufficient.  BP Morty offers bulk as a backup to how long Exeggutor has to serve as a sleep bot.  Because Noland boosts speed on trainer move, which he needs MPR on, and Exeggutor has X Speed, gauges should be okay.  Just expect a long fight.
Team 4: Tech Venusaur/Victreebel, Bugsy, Hop Bugsy is quite strong against this fight, but lacks self-setup.  Hop is the ideal partner to grant attack and crit buffing simultaneously, alongside some nice defense.  It's a good defensive plug in case the sleep chain breaks.
COBALION Cobalion's the toughest one of the three, I think.  The main issue is that Cobalion has a whopping 80% damage reduction, on move and sync damage, without being affected by a status condition.  So you think okay.  Any status?  Easy money.  No, friend.  It is not.  For you see, Cobalion builds up immunity over time, by removing the status at the halfway point of each HP bar, and in later phases if it syncs, which...god that one sucks.  Worse, Cobalion has some obnoxious resistance spreads.  Burn is Lessen 7, and with the +2 resistance every heal, guess who is fully immune after healing twice.  So the only way to handle it with Burn is having a strong enough Tech nuker to blow apart the HP bar from above half HP.  Lessen Poison 9 means that trying to use one of the most common statuses just doesn't work outright, unless you're insanely good.  Like, SS May tier.  Sleep is short-lived and gets dangerous quickly, but it can be used.  Freeze is too inconsistent to land, and wears off at random, so it can't be trusted.  Leaving you with...just paralysis.  I still dread the day this thing and Tornadus show up at the same time.
The good news is, Fire-types are plentiful, so there's definitely a way to handle this thing.  The bad news is, this is probably the threshold-defining fight.  Once you run out of good status users, it's done.  To say nothing of how hard this thing hits.  I'm constantly surprised by how severe some of its attacks are, between Stone Edge and Secret Sword.  So again, a decent defensive frontliner is fairly essential for this fight.
Team 1: Silver, Blaine, Marley This probably feels a bit overkill, but trust me.  Marley has the benefit of giving speed buffs to Silver, getting the full Inertia sync going.  She can also top off attack with Flag Bearer, and burn at a 50% rate.  Each of them can burn, but not consistently, so the stacking doesn't matter as much.  The real threat is just that Marley can get overrun, so you need to be quick.  Set Sun for early sync.  Silver needs to truck this thing and fast.
Team 2: Flannery, BP Janine, Will Flannery does have enough power behind her sync to potentially clear this.   Potentially.  But if she misses, BP Janine has Toxic.  While poison is generally bad, the goal here is simple.  Burn gets two recoveries before immunity, Poison gets one.  You only need to finish the last bar from the halfway point.  Will is chosen for added disruption.  Janine can boost evasion alongside the special that Flannery needs, and with Will's confusion and flinch rate, there's a lot of potential to just block it outright, since Cobalion doesn't become immune.
Team 3: Solgaleo, Skyla, Tech Magneton Can't handle the gimmick?  Ignore it!  Solgaleo don't care!  Part of your solution can easily be the Piercing Blows effect that Solgaleo has on Sunsteel Strike. With its new multipliers, and perfect self-setup, the only thing is needs is some speed and defense, which Skyla provides in spades.
Team 4: BP Surge, Nanu, Brock This is an odd one, but I'll stand by it.  BP Surge provides paralysis support, to check the gimmick.  Unfortunately, he is made of tissue paper, so that's not great.  Brock is here to patch that up with Potion.  Nanu, at max crit, gets a decent flinch rate, and has Screech to debuff Cobalion's defense, backed by a particularly nice sync nuke.   While this team does have some gaps, Cobalion's admittedly hard to shop for.
Final Thoughts As expected, Cobalion's hard to shop for.  I think on an F2P budget, you run into this obnoxious issue of "too few Fire-types," if you can believe it.  They're all 5*, and many are limited.  So you just hit this annoying wall with it.  Add in that you need gauges to maintain, bulk to not get run over, and ideally some flinch locking, and the fight can get challenging.  The other two are pretty free.  Sleep chaining ensures 4 clears on Azelf, and Entei really is much easier to handle.  So if you can get 3 on Cobalion, you're safe.
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khorneschosen · 7 months ago
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Oh I see the caps lock have already come out. Im making a prediction now either some personal trauma that justifies treating men like you do or uet more bad studies.
Based on the loosest definition possible? Again you didn't separate it out by offense you kept the 1/4 because isn't that sexy statistic, because again, truth doesn't matter, fear does.
Which only serves my point, even if the data was good (and it really isn't, frankly the data you are quoting from, but not citing is so bad it serves as the calling card of the declining standards of academia.)
Also with a few billion of us on this earth, I would be shocked if a man didn't kill a woman every day on earth and vice versa.
Again, notice the fear mongering.
This one doesn't even cite anything but truthfully, isn't even one, a serious problem to be addressed? At this point ill point it if it isn't fear mongering. Easier on me to just put a fm
Of course, we ignore most of the male victims female rapists, of course its worse. Fm
And yet its an entire system that says "men can't be raped by women" because even a biased court, isn't biased enough so long as defendants have any rights. Fm.
Would be terrible if one day you found out what you said wasn't true and in your pursuit of justice you sent alot of innocent people to prison to be raped and abused by rapists and murderers. Or would it?
Because Johnny was in an abusive relationship and you are philosophically incapable of recognizing male victims and female abusers. Not fear mongering but just pure hysteria at this point.
Love that because hollywood is a bunch of hypocritical pedophiles when it comes to the "talent" the person to blame is not the producers, agents and etc, but all of men. Completely fair and really sane takes right now.
Again see above. It's not fear mongering but just how that den of corruption operates.
Youtuber does insane shit, up to including mock executing his friend because it gets clicks and you think that is a statement on all men?
Again you cite celebrities in a bubble that feeds on sensationalism, while ignoring how it relates to men and women in general.
Ive heard your lessons. Over. And over. And over. And over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.
Men are to blame. Men are evil. Men are dangerous. Men are the problem. Over and over and over. It's why I was able to predict this mostly pretty well. I didn't expect the celebrities because frankly they are absurd examples to use about societal problems when they can be problems of certain institutions.
But what have you missed? That when a woman rapes or abuses her partner, she may as well have what those cunts in hollywood have, immunity from scrutiny.
In the UK by law it is not considered a crime.
By the letter of federal and many state laws, not a crime in the us.
Not even an assault charge in India.
And so on and so on it goes.
The fear, the hysteria, the victim mentality used as cover and sanction give to the exact kind of predators, you pretend to fight against.
I'm not telling you my personal story. But when it happened to me, by someone old enough to have known better I went through the exact process you are describing, because I was a man. No one batted an eye at downplaying what happened to me. Even my therapist I had seen for years told me to get over it.
Don't try and give me your empathy now btw. I won't accept it. I don't want your sympathy or a shoulder to cry on, I want you to stop demonizing my entire sex long enough that people can work to make sure that justice is served to the people going through what I did. I don't need your sympathy, I want my justice. I will have the justice I was due.
And the first part of that is breaking the back of feminism which has spent its entire life as a philosophy to enable, sanction, down play and everything else that happened to me for the sake of the fear mongering. Before you try to lie to me now, it has and unless you address that has done just that, save your excuses. I have heard the thin, gaslighting your kind has given me in the past, all it will do for me, is deepen my hatred of your philosophy of fear.
I too, am tired of teaching people who aren't just getting but won't because their own fear is more important than any justice and anything that threatens their fear can not be permitted.
You can't get it because it's more important to you, to be afraid than to be just. You have conditioned yourself out hearing the screams and seeing the pain.
But hey prove me wrong.
the story of tatsuya ishida is truly tragic because i can believe the guy startd from a genuine place of wanting to engage with feminism
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the problem is that the framing of it was inherently conspiratorial and tinged with a heavy dose of guilt and self loathing
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and that is just not a good foundation upon which to build a sane ideology and understanding of the world and so inevitably went from that, though this
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and it ended up leading to this:
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he is like the textbook case of the radfem to fascist pipeline. because the guy has been making comics every day for decades in here we have a perfect, methodical and granular dissection of how the process happens.
it truly is a tragedy
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runnning-outof-time · 2 years ago
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The Same Situation | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by @mrsalwayswrite
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader
Summary: Tommy's so worried about Freddie Thorne being with his sister, Ada, that he doesn't even realize that he himself is in just about the same situation with Freddie's sister, (Y/N). What happens when Freddie finds out that the same thing is happening on the flip side of it all?
Warnings: language, death threats, weapons
Word Count: 3504
A/N: I strayed a bit from canon on this one to make it make sense, so I hope that that’s fine. I didn’t expect for it to turn out this good, but I have to say that I’m pretty pleased with it. The italicized dialogue comes right from the show. Enjoy:)
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
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(Y/N) was working on tidying up the displays at her family's bakery when the shop's main door opened. She didn't even need to look up to know who it was; she recognized the sound of his shoes on the hardwood. "Tommy! Where've you been these past few days?" She asked as she looked up. But Tommy Shelby didn't respond. Instead he kept walking.
(Y/N) scoffed as she set down the cake she had so that she could follow the man into the back area of the bakery. "What's going on, Tommy?" she asked him another question, hoping to gain an answer from him this time. But he still said nothing. Instead he dropped his peaked cap onto the counter, the razor blades sewn into it clanging off of the metallic surface, and fished his pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of the jacket he had on. "You know you can't smoke in here," (Y/N) pointed out, her hands falling onto her hips.
That was the sentence that finally made Tommy look at her. He'd frozen with the cigarette between his lips and an ablaze match just about ready to light it. (Y/N) raised her eyebrows at him, as if she was daring him to go ahead and disregard her statement. They held each other's gaze for a few moments before Tommy hissed from the fire licking his fingertips. He quickly shook out the match and tossed it into the sink before he took the cigarette from between his lips and put it back into its packet with a sigh.
"Care to tell me what's gotten into you?" (Y/N) asked him then, her one eyebrow still quirked.
"It's just one problem after a-fucking-nother," he mumbled, his lips pursing together in a brooding scowl.
"Well that answer told me everything," she pointed out, a slight bit of sarcasm laced into her words.
"Ada's pregnant," he forced out then, running a stressed hand over his face after he spoke.
"She is?" she responded, her eyes wide as shock filled her features, "who...who is...?"
"It's Freddie," Tommy hated the fact that those two words tasted like poison as he said them, "it's fucking Freddie," he added then for dramatic measure, the infuriation now fully present in his voice.
"My brother?" (Y/N) was still only asking questions, her shock still too prevalent for her to get past thinking only the basics. "M...my brother got your sister pregnant?" The words sounded so foreign to say.
"Yes, yes he fucking did," he was still fuming. "And now I'm going to fucking kill him," he added before he grabbed his cap and began walking towards (Y/N), who was standing in the archway that led to the exit.
"Woah, woah...you're going to do what?" (Y/N)'s voice was assertive, but it wasn't enough to get Tommy to stop. What was though, was her placing her hand on his chest and putting pressure against him as he walked up to her. "You're not going anywhere in this state of mind, Thomas Shelby," she told him, her eyes locked onto his, her gaze steely and serious, "and you'd be foolish to think that I'd let you go and kill my brother just because you're unhappy with what he's done. Freddie's not the best of men, but he's..."
"Tell me what he is, (Y/N), because right now I can only see a man who needs to be dealt with," Tommy cut into her statement, tension still evident in his words. He was just a few moments shy from foaming at the mouth here. He needed to get to Freddie and he needed to deal with this now.
(Y/N)'s eyebrows raised as she heard what he had to say, and, once again, surprise was now etched across her face, "It's rich of you to say that about him when you're in the same situation as he is," she said to him.
Now it was Tommy's turn to be confused. "What?" he asked her, his anger fizzling out slightly as he furrowed his brows.
"Are you forgetting about you and I?" she queried, her mouth slightly agape as she waited for his answer. He didn't give one, so she continued, "are you forgetting that we've been seeing each other since you came back from France? Are you forgetting that Freddie knows not one thing about us? You'd be a hypocrite if you were to go and strike him down for being in a situation that is almost exactly identical to the one you're currently in."
(Y/N) held his gaze as she finished her monologue, watching him intently for what he'd give as an answer. He blinked a few times as he thought her words over. His mouth opened and shut then before he let out a sigh and dropped his gaze from hers, clearly defeated now. "It's not that simple when you see it that way, is it?" she remarked, her hand finally dropping from his chest because he'd stopped putting pressure against it.
"I'm still fucking angry at him," he muttered in a disgruntled tone.
"Sure you are...and you have a right to be. That's your sister; you're meant to protect her. But I think I have a little bit of insight into what Ada was thinking, and let me tell you...the move wasn't made only on Freddie's part," she continued to try to reason with him, the slightest smirk forming on her face as she finished her statement. Tommy looked up as she said her final words, and upon seeing the smirk, he shot her the 'don't you even start' look. She held her hands up in surrender as the smile overtook her features. "What are you going to do now?" she asked him after a few moments had passed.
"I'm going to go and find a way to deal with this situation," he responded as he placed his peaked cap atop his head before tugging it down into its proper spot.
"And I trust that that solution will ensure that everyone stays alive?" she checked with him, her eyebrows raising as she spoke.
Tommy pursed his lips at her statement, thinking it over for a moment before he cut the tension by nodding and exhaling a sigh. "It'll take longer for me to figure out, but I'll see it through so that is the case," he told her, his eyes locked onto hers.
"You've given me your word, so now you must stick to it," she reminded him.
"When have I ever broken my word to you?" he questioned her, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Let's not start with that, Tommy Shelby," she said to him, her smile present as he exhaled a breath of a laugh at her statement.
"I'll see you later," he deflected the previous topic as he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.
"I mean it," she stressed as they pulled away, trying to hold a serious look, but her smile was obviously breaking through.
"You have my word," he promised her again, kissing her lips one more time before she finally stepped aside and let him exit the backroom.
She turned to watch him walk out of the bakery, holding in her sigh until the door shut behind him. Men, she thought to herself as she shook her head, it's completely fine when they're in the midst of it, but if someone steps over the line they've already crossed, then there'll be hell to pay.
——
(Y/N)'s night had been pretty good so far. Nothing drastic came out of Tommy's blow up - besides the fact that Freddie declined his train ticket out of Birmingham and instead proposed to Ada. Of course, that struck a chord within Tommy, (Y/N) got an earful about it after he found out, but everyone was still alive. What she didn't know was that the caliber of her night was going to go down drastically the second she entered the small, dingy apartment that she shared with her brother.
Freddie was standing by the desk that was pushed up against the far wall of the apartment's main room. (Y/N) thought nothing of it, until he turned to face her with what looked to be a stack of papers in his hand. "Would you care to explain what these are to me?" he asked her as he shook the papers slightly for effect.
"What are they?" (Y/N) asked for some details. All she could see was that he was holding a stack of white paper.
"They're letters," he gave her more context.
"Ok...?" she asked for even more details. Everyone writes letters...why was he getting so worked up over these?
"They're letters from Tommy Shelby; from the war," he finally brought the hammer down, his words coming out in a cross manner.
(Y/N) sighed as she heard what her brother had to say. "I'm not allowed to write to someone who we've known since grade school?" she asked him, her eyebrows raising.
"Not in this manner you aren't," he rebuked, his voice raising slightly as his frustration became more pronounced.
"Well what was I to do? No one else was writing to me, Freddie. I tried you multiple times and got nothing! Tommy responded to me. He was my lifeline while you were all away," she raised her voice with his, showing him that she wasn't going to bow out of the argument.
"There's writing to him, and then there's forming a well-pronounced relationship with him, (Y/N). I'm never going to unread some of the things that were written here!" Freddie countered, waving the letters in front of her again.
"You shouldn't have been reading them in the first place!" (Y/N) exclaimed, her eyes wide as she managed to snatch them out of his hands. She did a quick check of them, breathing the slightest sigh of relief when she found that they were all accounted for. These letters meant a great deal to her. They were the only things that made her smile during the dark years of war, and now they served as a reminder of the beginning of the relationship that she now shared with Tommy. "Why were you going through my drawer anyway, Freddie?" she asked him then, a glare present on her face.
"Ada heard talk..." he started.
(Y/N) quickly cut him off. "Oh...Ada," she over-exaggerated the words, rolling her eyes as she heard her brother huff.
"She heard talk that Tommy'd only did what he did for us because of the situation he was in. It got me thinking, and it led me to these letters," he continued with his explanation, motioning to the letters she was holding then.
"That still doesn't give me good reason to understand why you decided to go searching through my drawer of the desk," (Y/N) pointed out. Sure, Tommy being in a 'situation' could have possibly got him thinking; she wasn't going to discredit her brother's brain, but how he pieced it together and figured out she had these letters stashed away just wasn't computing for her.
"That doesn't fucking matter, (Y/N). You've been going around behind my back with him even after you've known that we're at odds with each other. That's uncalled for and it's something I won't fucking have anymore!" he disregarded her statement, instead letting his frustration get the best of him and shine through in his words.
(Y/N) looked at him for a few moments, digesting what he'd just said to her. She tried to decide which way she should go about this situation; bring in reason? Or let him have it? She was so close to choosing the latter. "It's a bit rich of you to be saying this considering you're doing the exact same thing with Ada...well you were trying to, until Tommy found out you got her pregnant," she finally gave her response. If it were any other time, she'd laugh at the fact that she was saying the exact same statement to the other side of the equation just weeks apart. But she kept a straight face now.
There was the slightest change in Freddie's composure after he heard these words. But yet he pushed on. "That doesn't change the fact that he's crossed the fucking line. I ought to put a bullet in his head for even thinking of you in that way!" he let his anger prevail, his voice raised yet again.
"And what good will that do? I told him this when he was thinking the same thing, and I'll have no remorse in telling you the same: dealing with him in this manner will make you an outright hypocrite because you are doing the exact same thing with his sister. In a way, you'd be unjustifying your situation by dealing with mine in such a way."
Silence fell between the two siblings after (Y/N) finished her piece. Both were staring at each other, and tension was building around them to the point that it could be cut with a knife. Freddie made the first move, breaking his gaze as he began walking to the door. (Y/N)'s voice stopped him before he could open it. "You're not going to find him because he's gone for the weekend...figuring out some deal with some fucking Inspector because you don't want to take your stubborn ass out of the picture," she told him, knowing exactly what he was about to go and do.
Her words made Freddie freeze. He didn't say anything, but instead stared at her for a moment longer before finally opening the door and exiting the apartment. (Y/N) couldn't help but exhale a sigh once she was alone. Men, she thought as she shook her head. Now she'd have to figure out a way to make sure that both her brother and her lover would make it out of this situation alive. Thankfully Tommy was out of the city for the weekend, and that Freddie knew about the potential of him getting caught if he went anywhere close to that Inspector at the moment.
——
"How did I know that the two of you would come here the very first chance you had?" (Y/N) questioned the two men that were currently pointing their revolvers at each other. She confidently walked up to them, seeing only their eyes shift over in the direction she was coming from. Their stances stayed unwavering; it was going to take more than a simple statement.
Tommy spoke first. "What're you doing here, (Y/N)?" he asked her, his eyes still fixed on his target that was lying below him.
"I'm making sure that neither of you do something stupid," she answered him as she stopped a few paces away from where their stand-off was occurring.
"I won't let him fuck up my sister's life for his cause," Tommy said then, his finger toying with the trigger as he spoke. (Y/N) didn't know what to say. The both of them had their weapons fixed on each other, and the tension was almost palpable around them.
Thankfully (Y/N) didn't need to do any negotiating. After a few moments, Freddie dropped his gun to the ground. "My God..." he started, a sigh escaping with his words, "you actually believe that," his next sentence was spoken as a statement, as it was made pretty obvious by Tommy where his thoughts were at the moment, "I love her, Tommy. I loved her since she was nine and I was twelve. And she loves me the same," he said then, the slightest smile creeping onto his lips as he spoke.
Tommy still kept his revolver fixed on its target, his gaze unwavering as he heard what his ex-best friend had to say. (Y/N) watched with her breath held as Freddie then stood from the ground. Tommy didn't lower his arm until Freddie took two steps so that they'd be standing face to face with each other.
"Do you even know the word?" Freddie queried, his eyes locked onto Tommy's, "because I can say the same thing about you with (Y/N); using her for your fucking gain, like she's just some dispensable object," he added then, his words spoken with a harshness.
"Freddie..." (Y/N) cut into their stand off with a warning tone.
"No, (Y/N). He needs to fucking hear this," Freddie brushed his sister off, "he needs to fucking know that this can't be a two way street; that he can't damn me for what he thinks I'm doing and then go and do the exact same," he spoke these next lines to Tommy, as if he was trying to get him to see sense in it all.
"Then you must know that we are in love too," (Y/N) spoke up after a few more tense moments had passed. This made Freddie break his gaze from Tommy to look over at (Y/N). She could tell just by his eyes that he was shocked by the news. "You heard me right," (Y/N) doubled down, moving closer to the two of them before she continued, "we are in love; have been since 1917, when we were writing letters to each other. He professed it to me the moment he found me at the apartment and I said it back all the same. You weren't there when it happened, Freddie, because you'd gone to meet Ada under that bridge you always find yourselves under," (Y/N) spelled it out for her brother, watching as his jaw went slightly slack. (Y/N) fought the smirk that was trying to form on her face. She loved having the upper hand. "That's right, I know about that. Us women, we talk, and Ada told me everything. I'm happy for the two of you, I see your relationship for what it is. I only hope that you both can stop patronizing each other and let it lie," she ended her statement by looking between the both of them.
The two men looked at each other again, the tension arising between them again. Freddie was the one to break the silence. "I don't know where you stand, but I will accept you and (Y/N) being together," he said, being the bigger person and the one to bury the hatchet first. (Y/N) wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but she knew she couldn't yet. Not with the way that Tommy was still staring her brother down. She silently hoped that he'd choose peace as well.
"I will accept you and Ada being together, but if you do anything to hurt her, it will be the end of you," Tommy finally conceded, but not before throwing one last threat into the mix.
Nothing else was said then as the two men continued to stare at each other. (Y/N) knew what this was. Neither wanted to make the first move. So she stepped into their staring contest. "Freddie, why don't you go find Ada. She was telling me earlier about some pain that she was having. She may need you," (Y/N) tried to reason with her brother, pushing on his chest slightly so that he would get the cue that she wanted him to back away from the situation. This did the trick in getting Freddie's gaze off of Tommy, and (Y/N) watched it soften as his eyes found hers. He said nothing, and only nodded before he stepped away and began to leave the old warehouse building.
(Y/N) turned to Tommy once the other man was out of sight. "I'm sure you would have killed one another had I not shown up," she broke their silence, her hand fiddling with the lapel of his jacket as she focused her eyes on his chest.
"He's not worth it," Tommy responded, shaking his head slightly.
"Sure seemed like he was when I got here," (Y/N) replied, her eyes rising to meet his. She was able to see the starting of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"He's not worth it, but you are," he flipped his words around, the second half of his statement succeeding in making (Y/N)'s cheeks heat up.
"You're a sap, Tommy Shelby," she teased him, smacking his chest gently, her words making his smirk appear full on his lips. She smiled back at him as she took hold of his lapels and pulled him closer to her so that she could press her lips to his. "You're a sap, and I love you," she whispered against his lips, feeling him smile against hers at her words. Tommy said nothing in response, but instead pulled her in for another kiss; a kiss that perfectly conveyed how he felt towards her.
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Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @lora21 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @dragons-are-my-favorite @sunsetbeachesandwriting @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel
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mercurygguk · 4 years ago
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winter soldier | jjk
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genre; winter soldier/avengers au, angst/smut/fluff
pairing; winter soldier!jungkook x avenger!female reader
summary; the love of your life died during ww2, they honored his death. you had never imagined you’d ever see him again until you’d join him in death, but here he is and he’s trying to kill you. he’s not himself at all. you, however, insist that the man you used to know is still in there somewhere.
word count; 6,764
warnings; descriptions of war/battle/fight scenes, descriptions of scars, the rest of the avengers joins the party, reader is like Cap A but not like Cap A, you know??, jungkook looking hella hot with his long hair and steel arm, inspiration from ‘captain america: winter soldier’, swearing, SMUT; explicit sexual activities, oral (f. receiving), love making at its highest- nothing kinky, just plain ol’ sex
a/n; okay so um, i’m binge-watching the avengers movies atm and i was watching Captain America: Winter Soldier. i kid you not, throughout the entire movie i was imagining what jungkook would look like as the winter soldier- jungkook combined with superheroes is like the perfect story, amirite?? ;)) enjoy!
ps. once again, i didn’t proof read so ignore my possible mistakes lol
(for reference, this is what jungkook’s hair looks like in this fic)
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War.
Terrorizing. Horrifying. Absolutely petrifying.
There are several words to use when talking about it, describing it, reliving it. Once you’ve experienced it, it will haunt you till the day you die and even beyond that. There isn’t much positive to take from it, not many positive memories come to you as you think back to the time during war. Only one positive memory returns to you from those dark times...
Him.
Him who did not fit in with the military services due to his lack of strength and speed. Him who never let anyone step upon him and evolved with the job. Him who never backed down from a challenge or an order given from the highest ranks. Him who had braveness unlike anyone, loyalty like no other, a will to fight for what’s worth it and to win. Him who made you fall for him without meaning to. Him who promised he would always come back to you, no matter what happened.
And then one day he didn’t. They had told you he went down in the fight, died for his country, for his team. He hadn’t hesitated to sacrifice himself, thrown himself towards the threat in the hopes of ending it for everyone once and for all. That he did. He killed himself in the process of saving everyone else.
A hero is what they had called him. Honored his name, saluting as they all stood facing his military photograph, serious faces and emotionless eyes all over. Tears had filled your eyes that day, but they didn't fall. You refused to let them. There was no way you would cry because of a liar. A coward, really. Anger kept you going, anger aimed at him. A rage so intense that you would convince yourself that you hated him. Some people would call you selfish, selfish for hating a man who sacrificed himself for everyone else. They were right. You were selfish. But love makes you selfish, and you loved him. So ridiculously much.
Years later, decades into the new century he remains as a positive yet heartbreaking and frustrating memory in your mind and heart. You haven’t aged a day thanks to the advanced technology and the project you offered to be the experiment of, in the end of the war. After his death and the war seeming more out of control than ever, you thought there wasn’t much more to live for, so you volunteered. A successful masterpiece, professor Kim had said as you regained consciousness on the lab table. You were his greatest, most succeeded experiment. You still are, except for the fact that Kim Namjoon is no longer walking among people on earth.
Now you’re living as the successful masterpiece he has created. Stronger, faster – young too even though your real age is something near 98. It doesn’t show. You look like any other 23-year-old but with extraordinary strength and speed. Being a part of a team as the Avengers truly has given you a meaning of life, a purpose that you didn’t feel you had before joining this outstanding team of superheroes as some would call you.
But as you stand here, in the middle of a battlefield that is scarily similar to those back in the 1940’s, you feel small. Gunshots fire around you, flying past your head and ringing in your ears. Explosions going off from the shots fired by Stark, Iron Man as he’s known as. The grounds breaking from the power of Thor’s hammer, the bad guys falling like flies in the hands of Widow. You’re watching it all unfold, breathing for a split second as robots are charging at you with red, glowing eyes.
For God’s sake, just how many of these are there?
Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes in pure annoyance, you set off running towards them with an unmatched speed, fists up and ready to take them out. One goes down after another, surrendering to your very angry, very powerful fists. Your patience is running thin as the robots keep appearing from left and right, setting their focus on you as demanded by whoever’s controlling them. A person you haven’t managed to find yet, but determined to hunt down and put a bullet through their head.
“Hey, Thor!” You call out to the nordic God flying around you, punching fists through robots and throwing his hammer at them. He glances your way, finding you surrounded by robots, too many for you to fight by yourself. “A lil hand here?”
He nods in response, immediately dropping to the ground and plunging his hammer into the asphalt on the ground, lightning seeping through the ground and into the robots, taking them down and splitting them in half. Thor throws a smug smirk at you before turning back around to fight another round of robots. You roll your eyes, about to run off when shots are being fired at you.
“Shit!” You hiss, running to hide behind a tipped-over truck while fishing out a gun from the strap around your thigh. You lean out, aiming in the direction of the shots. There is a man with long, dark hair, a black mask covering half his face and a silver arm that does not look familiar at all. The mysterious man steps onto the railing of the bridge he fired shots from, hard glare focused on you as he steps out and lets himself fall to the ground beneath the bridge. He lands on his feet, supporting himself with the silver fist into the asphalt. He stands to his height, walking straight towards you and leaving a mark in the asphalt where he had landed. Your eyes widen as he holds up a machine gun, opening fire at you as you scramble to run off while loading more shots into your gun.
Peeking around the corner of the brick building you’re hiding behind, you hold your gun up to aim at him. You fire a bullet, hitting his silver arm. He doesn’t budge, the bullet not even leaving a bump in the silver.
“What the-” you gape, firing shots again. He holds his silver hand up, the bullets bouncing off like they’re made of cotton, still walking towards you with eyes focused on you. There’s something about him that seems familiar – maybe his build? Or the way he walks? Or was it the slightly curly hair on top of his head? You can’t quite pin it as you watch him get closer, fists clenched tightly at his sides as if he’s ready to throw punches at you. You contemplate running to him, throwing the first punch at him before he gets to you. There is a slight hesitancy in your body as you can’t shake off how awfully familiar he seems the closer he gets to you. Knowing what the right thing to do is, you step out from your hiding spot, collecting all strength as you charge at him. A yell of anger and confusion rumbles from your chest as you jump on the last step, fist pulled back only for it to be forced forward and into the center of the mysterious man’s chest.
He stumbles back slightly, gaining his balance quickly before he steps closer, throwing a punch at you as well. You dodge, throwing your leg into his side in a strong kick. He grunts as he catches your leg, pulling on it to force you towards him. You ram into him, his clenched fist connecting with your jaw. You groan in pain as you fall to the ground, landing before his feet. Squinting at him, you watch as he kneels down over you, holding you down against the ground. As he stares at you, raising his hand to deliver a punch to your face again, you realize it as your eyes meet his. You gasp softly, not believing the sight in front of you. It’s a known fact that you would recognize those deep, brown eyes anywhere in any given moment.
“J-Jungkook?”
The sound of your voice, the sound of his name falling from your lips has him freezing for a split second. His eyes shift between yours as he slowly begins to sink his fist. But not even seconds later he’s raising his fist again and that’s when you can tell that he does not recognize you. He is looking at you as if you’re a complete stranger, like he didn’t spend the last year of his life telling you that he loved you more than life itself.
His gaze fills with the only feeling he feels, hatred. He moves to force his silver fist down and into your face, a face he used to call beautiful as he traced his finger tips along the edges. You barely dodge it, trying your very best to meet his eyes again as you call his name.
“Jungkook!” You fight the tears that are brimming your eyes as you continue to dodge his hits the best you can, “Hey! It’s me!”
He’s not holding off, continuing to throw punches at you and hitting the asphalt as you squirm in between his thighs. He’s impeccably strong, the asphalt cracking under the jabs of his fists. His thighs are keeping you in place as he pins you to the ground, your arms locked along your sides. You know he’ll punch you to death if you don’t get inside his head. It seems nearly impossible as his eyes are trained on you, emotionless and angry, only a small glimt of the man you used to know in them.
“____! Might wanna duck down a bit,” Tony shouts as he flies in your direction, his glowing hand aimed at Jungkook.
Your eyes widen in horror as you scramble together all the strength you have, throwing Jungkook off you and away from the deathly ray of light coming from Tony’s palm.
“No!”
The shot hits the asphalt a few meters away from you, nearly grazing Jungkook but it doesn’t, thankfully. Tony is shocked as he comes to a halt in the air, staring between Jungkook and you. You wave a hand at him. “I got him,” you assure him as you pant out breaths of air, nodding towards Widow and Thor, “go help the others.”
The man in the iron suit in front of you seems to hesitate for a second as he looks at you. He catches the pleading look on your face, glancing back at Jungkook for a moment before nodding at you once and flying in the direction of Widow and Thor, aiming his shots at the robots that are still coming from all sides. You turn your attention back to Jungkook, the body of the love of your life but not the eyes or mind of him.
“Jungkook,” you try again, slowly stepping closer as he stays still, slightly shocked that you had saved him from Iron Man’s deadly shot, “it’s me, ____.”
You’re begging, tone pleading him and hands up in surrender as you slowly step closer to him. He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling in deep breaths. His eyes are dark, cold and distant as you get even closer. He’s frozen in his spot. He seems confused behind that hard expression, confused because you look less terrified than you did before realizing who he is. He doesn’t flinch or move away from your hand as it inches closer to his face, reaching for the black mask on his face.
“Hey,” you softly say, hesitating to touch him as you let a single tear escape and roll down your cheek. Something flashes in his eyes as he looks into your wet eyes, a small hint of recognition, familiarity too. Maybe he remembers. You hope he does. He lets you pull the black mask off completely, the strong line of his jaw appearing in front of you as well as his pink lips you used to kiss so often in that hidden place you liked to meet almost every night. “It’s me,” you whisper, “it’s ____.”
You’re afraid you’re imagining things as tears build up in the corner of his eyes, his jaw tightening. It’s too much for him. The memories returning with full force, the emotions filling his chest and warming it for the first time in 70 years. He wants to cry. He doesn’t know whether it's happiness because you’re right here in front of him, after he thought he would never get to see you again as he took his last breath back in 1944, or sadness because he’s well aware that he almost killed you if you hadn’t pushed him off you.
“____?” His voice betrays him as it cracks, your name coming out in a croaked voice. More tears escape as you hear your name falling from his lips for the first time since that morning in the military camp where he said ‘see you soon’ and then never returned. He freezes as you throw yourself at him, arms wrapped around him as you pull him closer in a tight hug. The sniffles and muffled cries you let out breaks his emotionless, cold heart and filling it with a warmth he hasn’t felt in so long. A tear escapes from the corner of his eye as he lets his own arms snake their way around your waist, hugging you just as tight as you hug him.
Relief.
That’s what he’s feeling.
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Jungkook wanders around inside Stark’s office, eyes exploring things as he calmly runs his silver hand over them. You watch him from a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest. Worry is filling your entire body as his back is turned to you. He still doesn’t seem like himself. There is something about him that makes you anxious, something about him makes you wonder if he’ll turn at any moment, falling back into whatever sort of amnesia he has been experiencing for the past decades.
You jump in surprise when the door opens beside you, revealing Tony. He notices your jumbled state, giving you a small, half smile. You turn your eyes back to Jungkook who’s picking at an ancient-looking sculpture on Tony’s desk causing Tony to take a step closer.
“Hey! Buddy!” He calls out, catching Jungkook’s attention. “Don’t touch that, please. It’s antique.”
Jungkook steps away from the desk, hands up in mock surrender, emptiness in his eyes as if he couldn’t care less about Tony’s antique sculpture. No one really cared about that sculpture. It’s doomed to break at some point when it’s placed in his office, in the Avengers building.
“Tony,” you catch the attention of the older man, looking straight at him with hopeful, desperate eyes, “can you help him?”
He turns to face Jungkook, looking him over from head to toe. “Friday, give me a scan of whatever’s controlling Jungkook.”
Anticipated, you wait while biting a nail. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch as Friday scans him for anything to help Tony figure out a way to help. He’s glancing from Tony to you, his eyes meeting yours. Seconds. It takes seconds from his stare meeting yours to something flicking behind his dark brown irises, something inside of him snapping like the tips of someone’s fingers. Your eyes widen in panic as you move to stand between Tony and Jungkook.
“Tony!” You shout, moving fast as you try to get in between the two men. Tony has already activated his iron hand, catching Jungkook’s silver fist right before it hits him square in the face. You come to a halt, staring in surprise as Tony tightens his hold on Jungkook’s fist, forcing him to the ground. “Tony, please, don’t hurt him. He’s not in his right mind!”
“Oh, really?” Tony scoffs, sarcasm dripping from each word. A small yelp leaves your mouth as Tony kicks his knee up under Jungkook’s jaw, knocking him out. Jungkook falls limp to the floor, eyes closed as he’s kicked unconscious by Tony. You kneel down beside him, brushing his long strands of hair out of his face. He looks peaceful as he lays there, completely unconscious, and yet there’s a furrowed look on his face, like he’s never free from whatever that is controlling him. You sigh deeply, head dropping as you cradle Jungkook’s hand in your own. Tony’s palm rests on your shoulder. You glance up at him. He gives you a small, reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry, we’ll help him,” he tells you. You nod, knowing he spoke the truth.
“Thank you.”
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The frustrated look and furrowed eyebrows are gone. He looks genuinely peaceful this time, long lashes resting on the top of his cheeks as he rests beneath the sheets on your bed. You can’t help yourself as you reach out, palm cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone in a soft caress. Hopefully you’ll have the love of your life back once he wakes up from the deep sleep Tony put him in.
You’re about to move away, retrieving your hand from his cheek just as you hear him whimper softly. Turning back to him, you watch as his lower lip begins to quiver, eyebrows furrowed tightly together. “No,” he whimpers again, head shaking in his sleep. “Please, no! Don’t!”
Worry fills you once again as you sit on the edge of the bed beside him, hands cupping his face between them. “Jungkook,” you softly call, trying your best to wake him without startling him. “Jungkook, my love, please wake up. Please!”
Startled, you gasp as his eyes shoot open, his lips parting as he gasps for air. He’s looking right into your startled, widened eyes. It takes a minute for him to realize who you are and where he is, the surroundings not seeming familiar at all, but it feels nice. The aura, the warmth and the dimmed lighting in the bedroom where he’s tucked under the sheets.
“Hey,” you breathe out as you smile, not sure what to say to him. Tony had made sure to help him, get whatever that was controlling him out of him, his head to himself now and slowly filling with memories, both good and bad ones. “How are you feeling?”
He groans as he moves to sit up. You help him straighten up, making sure he has a pillow for his back as he leans back against the head of the bed. He closes his eyes tightly together as he drops his head back, still trying to calm his erratic breathing. You sit back in the chair you had pulled to the bedside when you got here.
“I feel…” he begins, words feeling foreign on his tongue as he speaks with a croaking voice. He sighs deeply. This is a lot for his head to take in in just one day. “I feel like my head is about to explode.”
Your smile is careful as you look at him. “Makes sense,” you softly say, watching him glance at his arm only to notice the silver is still there, like he had hoped it would be gone. It’s easy to tell the arm itself is a symbol of a very dark time as he looks at it and then looks away from it. He isn’t fond of the silver arm, obviously having a love-hate relationship with it as it has given him power and strength he never had to begin with and problems he never voluntarily wanted in the first place. There’s pain in his eyes as he glances at you, shame as he cowers under your gaze.
You frown deeply. “What happened to you?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. He closes his eyes, not really wishing to go back to those dark times where his life was saved and changed for the worse. The dark times where he became a shadow of himself and a manipulated soldier, brainwashed to take orders from others.
“I, uh, I don’t think-“ he stumbles over his words.
You place your hand over his actual hand, your thumb brushing the skin there. He glances at where you’re touching him before looking up at you. You’re hurting, it’s easy to see. It’s not your own pain though, it’s his. You’re feeling pain for him, hurting because he went through things he never should have, things where death would’ve been much less painful. You want to kiss him, kiss it all better if that was possible.
“You can tell me,” you whisper, pleading him to confide in you, to tell you what happened to him all those years ago.
He sighs deeply, turning his hand over to wrap it around yours. A rush runs through your stomach as he grips onto your hand with a hold so tight that you find yourself promising him silently that you’ll never let go again by giving his hand a small squeeze.
“They found me a few days later,” he starts, gaze focusing on the way yours and his fingers intertwine with each other like they’re meant to do it, “in the ruins of buildings. I-I wasn’t fully awake when they did, only just coming to my senses again after the explosion that was meant to kill me.”
You’re focusing on his hand in yours now, not able to look into his eyes as he tells the story of how he ended up here, 70 years later, and still looking like himself but with longer hair and impeccable strength.
“I didn’t recognize them. They wouldn’t tell me anything. They took me to this place, a bunker or something like that. There was this huge laboratory inside with equipment way ahead of its time,” he looks confused as he relives the horrifying moments, “I was placed in a chair and the next thing I know they’re sawing my arm off-“
You whimper. “Oh, god,” tears dwell in your eyes as you grip his hand tightly.
“____, I have never felt as much pain as I did that day,” he looks you straight in the eye, the pain from that day flashing over his face as he recalls it, the feeling of it. “And all I could think about while they turned me into this- this monster… was that I lied to you.”
You shake your head in denial. “No, Jungkook,” you whisper, “you couldn’t know. You couldn’t.”
He offers you a small half-smile, remorse covering his features as he reaches up with his silver hand, careful as he lets the fingertips of it brush your hair out of your face.
“I’m sorry I gave you an empty promise,” he whispers, silver fingertips brushing against the side of your face. You cover it with your own hand, letting him cup your face in the cold silver. He leans closer, hissing lightly as pain shoots up the side of his torso. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come back to you like I promised.”
“You did though,” you sigh deeply, resting your forehead against his. “You’re right here.”
He nods softly, his eyes shifting between yours.. “and I won’t leave again,” he assures you before hesitating, shrugging as he adds; “unless you want me to.”
You chuckle through the tears that had built up in your eyes. He’s smiling at you as you reach up to cup his face in your palms, brushing your thumb across his cheeks. He’s watching you, still not quite believing that you’re here with him. After so long. 70 years of wondering if you’re still alive. 70 long years of wondering where you were in the world. 70 unbearable years of longing for your touch, your soft, plump lips that made his heart stop beating for a few seconds each time they would touch his in a kiss.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he whispers into the small gap of air space between you and him. “Each time I’d return from a mission and become myself again after being under mind-control, you were the first thing on my mind. To be honest, I don’t think you ever left it. You’ve always been there with me, in the deepest parts of my consciousness. You kept me sane during the missions, kept me from forgetting myself completely.”
Listening intently, you close your eyes as your thumbs continue to brush over the skin on his cheeks. He continues, a deep sigh falling from his lips and clashing against yours causing goosebumps to rise upon your body. You’re shocked that you have gone this far without smothering him in kisses. You don’t want to risk anything, waiting patiently for him to make the first move in the direction of more physical affection, whether it’s a touch of his hand, a hug or more.
“And when I realized it was you earlier today...” his voice cracks, “when I realized I almost killed you- I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for that.”
“You can and you will,” you softly tell him, the undertone of your voice stern, “you didn’t kill me. You wouldn’t. You were gonna recognize me sooner or later.”
He exhales shakily. “You don’t know that,” he almost snaps, eyes closed tightly as he drops his silver hand from your face. He pulls away from your touch, the warmth of him disappearing the further he moves away. He’s not looking at you. Tears are threatening to spill as you stare back at him, lips slightly parted as you want to speak up. You want to tell him he’s wrong, but you already know that he will not take your words for what they are. He, and you, know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t pushed him off when you did.
“You’re right,” you say, catching his attention again. He barely glances at you, noticing the small remnants of tears in your eyes before looking back at his silver hand, clenching and unclenching it. A tear rolls down your cheek. “You’re so right, Jungkook. I don’t know if you would or not.”
You get up from the chair you’ve been sitting in since you brought him back to your apartment. Jungkook still refuses to look at you as you move onto the bed, crawling closer to him. You don’t hesitate as you lay a hand on his shoulder and throw a leg over his to straddle his lap. He finally looks at you, eyes slightly widened at your actions. His eyes meet teary ones again, his silver arm moving out of an old habit as he reaches up to wipe your tears away.
“But I like to think you would.”
Your lips press against his before he can reply to your words. Jungkook gasps and then grunts in response as you press your mouth to his, desperately and needy. His body freezes beneath you as you kiss him, tasting his lips for the first time in an unbearably long time. It takes him a while to realize that you’re kissing him, finally kissing you back as he cradles you in his arms, pulling you closer to his chest. The silver arm keeps a tight grip around your waist, holding you in place as the other runs up your thigh.
Pulling away, you gasp for air, letting your forehead rest against his. Jungkook is breathing heavily, his breath once again clashing against yours as you both catch your breath. Your eyes meet, seconds after he’s kissing you again, your tank top riding up as the silver arm keeps you tight against him. The silver touching your skin causes goosebumps to cover your skin, a chill running up your spine as you cup his face. His tongue licks against your bottom lip, you let him in. A moan escapes your lips as his tongue touches yours.
“I’ve been holding myself back ever since you woke up,” you whisper against his lips, making him smile as his hands slide under your top, pushing it up before pulling it over your head completely. You return to his lips, catching them with your own as you reach for the hem of his t-shirt. He helps you pull it off, your mind elsewhere as you throw it onto the floor. Your hands rake down his body, over the tensing muscles of his abdomen as he moves his kisses down your cheek and further under your jaw. Your breathing is ragged as you pull away, only a few inches so you can glance down at his torso. The sight horrifies you, your fingertips brushing over scars and healed wounds.
“Oh my god,” you whisper as you glance up at Jungkook, his eyes meeting yours for a few seconds before you look back at his chest. Your eyes wander, over his both small and larger scars to his silver arm. You feel your heart tightening as you take in the way the silver arm is sewed onto his body. You hesitate to reach up, Jungkook’s eyes on you as you let your shaking fingertips brush over the burned, scarred skin that keeps the silver arm attached. “I- This…”
His human hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. “I know,” he agrees without hearing the rest of the sentence. You look back at him, finding relief in his eyes as you rest your palms against his chest. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he then says.
“They literally cut off your arm,” you point out, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t even imagine how much pain he must’ve been in when they did this to him. “I wish I could have spared you this pain, spared you the torture you went through.”
He smiles softly. “I know, ____. But there's no way you possibly could’ve.”
You're carefully running your pointer finger along one of his scars when you look up at him, eyelashes framing your eyes so perfectly. He thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, even more so than the last time he saw you. You can’t do anything to stop the words that tumble from your lips next.
“I love you so much, Jungkook.”
His breathing stops for a second, his heart skipping a beat. He hasn’t heard those words since 1944. He didn’t even hear those words that morning you had sent him off, he hadn’t said those words when he promised to return. He should have. That way you’d never be in doubt of his love. He wonders if you’ve loved him since or if there has been anyone else in the meantime to love you the way he should’ve.
Silently, you watch him as his thoughts run one hundred miles per hour. Your palms are sliding from his chest to his shoulders and further up his neck to cup his face again. The love he feels is evident in his eyes as he focuses on you.
“I love you,” he whispers, carefully turning you over onto your back only for him to hover over you. You’re watching him, tingling in your stomach as you hear the words fall from his lips. He returns to kissing you, kissing the skin on your cheek, your neck and further down to the very top of your chest, right beneath the collarbones. He glances up at you as he kisses his way down the valley of your bra-covered chest. “I didn’t say it enough back then,” he mouths against your skin, another round of goosebumps rising beneath his lips, “I should have said it more. I’m sorry.”
You exhale deeply, arching your back into his touch as he reaches your navel and moves even further down to the waistband of your pants, your spandex pants that you so elegantly wear whenever you have a mission with the Avengers.
“Stop apologizing,” you breathe out, eyes closed as you succumb to his touch. The silver hand brushes over your stomach as it runs up to your chest, unclasping your bra on the front. It falls to the sides, revealing your perky nipples to the crisp air. You gasp softly as a silver hand brushes over both, the cold steel doing nothing but erecting them even more. “I've always hated it when you apologize.”
He smirks softly against your lower stomach, pressing one last kiss to the skin there before pulling the silver hand down to pull off your pants, and panties too. The pants are barely on the floor before he returns to your lower abdomen, kisses being spread across your hip bones and pubic bone. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his long hair as he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs. He spreads your legs, revealing your throbbing core to him.
“God, I missed this,” he breathed out, the air of his words hitting your wet folds. “Having you like this, all to myself.”
You whine from above him. “Jungkook,” you whimper, “please.”
It doesn’t take more for him to lean closer, tongue licking a stripe up between your folds and to your clit, his silver arm sliding across your abdomen to keep you down as he eats you out for the first time in decades. One would think he had lost his touch and knowledge of a woman’s body, but you can say that he certainly didn’t as he roots himself between your legs, tongue licking your wetness and prodding at the entrance.
“Oh god,” you moan, softly gasping for air as his human hand rests on top of your one thigh, fingers digging into the flesh there. You’re in heaven, on the ninth cloud as he slurps your arousal, licking your folds and clit as if his life depended on it. “Fuck, Jungkook!”
The sound of your name toppling from your lips as he hits a certain nerve makes his body flush with a warmth he almost forgot what feels like. You’re writhing in the tight hold of his silver arm, squirming as he licks you to your release. The orgasm is approaching fast and hard, Jungkook being the sole reason for it. No one could ever get you there as fast as him.
“I’m s-so close- oh!,” you pant, your walls clenching as Jungkook’s actual fingers slide into you. He pumps his hand in and out of you in a pace that is perfectly building up your orgasm. He takes nothing but a glance into his eyes as he leans down to softly kiss your clit that you’re toppling over, hitting the wall of your orgasm. “J-jungkook, my god!”
You jerk away as he leans forward, tongue licking up your release, tasting it on his taste buds. He hums with a small smile as he glances up at you, loving the way your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at the sight of him between your thighs. It takes nothing more than a few seconds before you shitting up, Jungkook meeting you halfway in a kiss. Tongues clash against each other, the taste of you on his tongue as he kisses you deeply, needingly.
“Please fuck me,” you mumble in between kisses, a desperate whining tone attached to your words. “Make love to me, Jungkook.”
He seals your words with a kiss, giving you a silent promise of doing just that. As if he’d lick you out and that would be it. No way.
You watch, teeth biting into your bottom lip, as he gets off the bed to remove the sweatpants you had dressed him in when you got back, getting him out of those military pants with belts and buckles all over them. His cock springs free, slaps against his abdomen as it stands proud into the air. A rush runs through your stomach at the sight, mouth slightly watering. Once the sweatpants and his boxers lie on the floor by his feet, he crawls back onto the bed. He moves closer, pushing you back onto your back as he hovers over you. You’re glancing at his silver arm for a mere split second, your hair reaching up to run along the hard edges of it. Jungkook can’t feel your touch but he’d like to imagine that he can as he watches your palm brushing over and further up to the nape of his neck. His eyes move back to lock with yours. You’re looking at him just like you did that last night of intimacy you had back in 1944, the night before he was sent off on a deathly mission. A huge wave of emotions hits him as he glances from your eyes to your lips and back again.
“I love you,” he softly says, eyebrows furrowed together as he looks at you, “so much, ____.”
You smile, pulling him down to meet you in a kiss. The kisses are soft, tender even as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance. You gasp into his mouth as the tip of his cock prods at your folds. A hand of yours tangles back into his locks as he pushes inside, the tightness overwhelming for the both of you. He rests his forehead against yours, your breaths clashing together between you as he buries himself to the hilt.
“Shit,” he hisses, glancing down at your connecting hips. “Can i move?”
You nod your head, whispering, “yes.”
Jungkook watches the way your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pulls out and pushes back in, the sight causing him to do it again and again, wanting to see you lose yourself and succumb to the feeling of his cock brushing against your walls.
“Oh fuck!” You gasp as he gives you a particularly hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin as he hits that exact spot that makes you whimper out a soft, whiny moan. You’re clawing at his shoulders, his neck and chest as he sets a rhythm, keeping it steady as he grinds into you. He grabs your leg with his silver hand, helping you to wrap it around his waist. The other follows suit, locking with your other behind his back. He hits deep inside of you, his veiny cock sliding against your walls so deliciously.
It’s like that last night you had with him all over again just with more longing and more desperate kisses. Your stomach tingles with the overwhelming amount of emotions you’re feeling in this exact moment as you look up at him – his long hair slightly damp at the roots, his toned chest glistening in sweat as he works you both to a release, to a high you’re both so desperately in the need of.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans as you unawarely clench around his length, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Don’t do that or I’ll cum right now.”
“Sorry!” You squeak, chuckling as he eyes you with a small smirk. God, you wanna ride him so badly. “Oh, Jungkook,” you moan breathily as he hits your spot again. He’s watching you, eyes running over your face as it contorts in pure pleasure.
“Fuck, I’m close,” he grunts, leaning up on his hands to get a better angle. He rams his hips into you, his strength coming to show as he thrusts into you harder than ever before. The power of his thrusts have you seeing stars as your second orgasm nears you. Jungkook can feel it as you clinch repeatedly around him. He won’t last much longer if you continue to do that.
High pitched moans tumble from your parted lips as he speeds up his movements, desperately trying to get you over the edge before he topples over himself. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as you reach your high, the orgasm hitting you like a bullet.
“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, breathing ragged as he continues to fuck you to get himself to cum. His breathing is uneven, not matching his thrusts as all as he moves in and out a few more times before stilling inside of you, spilling his load and painting your walls inside.
“Fuck, I love you,” he breathes out as he drops his forehead to your collarbone. You’re smiling widely as you run your fingers from his shoulders and up into his hair. He lifts his head to look at you as you push his long, brown hair out of his face. You know him too well when he gives you a look, a small smirk on his lips. A joke is coming. You can just feel it. And you can’t help but grin at him as everything feels exactly like 1944 again. Also, you want to punch him for his next words:
“Not too bad for a 98-year-old, huh?”
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all rights reserved © mercurygguk (with help from marvel studios *wink* )
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honeytae · 4 years ago
Note
Hi!! Idk if you’re taking requests or not, but I was hoping I could request something along the lines of where you’re in love with your best friend, taehyung, but he doesn’t know and he’s getting married soon. you don’t tell him how you feel until the night of his wedding when you’re a bit tipsy from drinking your feelings away. you can decide the ending! thank you in advance if you end up writing this! hope you’re doing well and staying safe. Xx
hi darling! i’m so sorry this took so long for me to write. i couldn’t get it to a point where i was satisfied with it for a really long time, i still don’t feel that good about it honestly but hopefully it’s okay for you!!! i tried to make it angsty (yikes) so hopefully it’s not horrible lmao
tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters
genre: angst
word count: 1.6k
warnings: um so much heartbreak, oc is a little (very) in denial about the situation and comes off a little toxic tbh, requited love but nothing they can do about it now, mentions of tae going into a panic attack
You couldn’t handle it.
You couldn’t handle the ‘congratulations to the happy couple,’ nor the Mr. and Mrs. Kim sign practically floating over their heads. You couldn’t handle the copious bouquets and all the preparations that went into this.
And you felt like a complete asshole about it.
Which is precisely why you decided to prematurely exit the event, doing yourself and everyone else a favor by leaving for the night to go sulk in your hotel by your lonesome.
The elevator ride up to your floor was miserable, your own battles within your mind coupled with the fact that your floor was the top one, making the ride excruciatingly long on top of everything else.
Rustling with the hotel key in your bag seemed to take forever as well, finally barging into your half unpacked space with a sigh. You quickly shut the door behind you, hoping you’d been able to sneak away from the hotel lobby without any guests noticing.
Shuffling further into the room, you sat on the edge of the king bed in the center of the room, placing your head in your hands at the mere prospect of this weekend.
Taehyung was getting married. Kim Taehyung, your best friend, the one person you’d been pining for since middle school, would be legally bound to someone else in less than twenty four hours.
Maybe you just shouldn’t have come. Despite sending red flags to Tae, you couldn’t think of a better solution than fleeing at this exact moment. Why did you think you could handle this?
Two knocks against the locked door had your head raising from its resting place, cursing under your breath at someone coming after you.
You didn’t feel well. That would be your excuse.
“Hey, you okay?” Immediately upon opening the door, Taehyung spoke the question out into the air, dark eyebrows knit in concern and kind eyes imploring yours for an answer.
“Hi. I’m fine, just a little tired, Tae.” You pressed your lips together in a hopefully believable smile, the man frowning before nodding at you.
“Me too. Can I come in?” He asked, the question completely innocent however making your heart rate a bit faster at the what if. What if things had gone differently? What if it was still a possibility for things to escalate between you two?
Cut it out. He’s about to be a married man.
You raised your eyebrows at him for a moment, then stepped back to allow him in, putting all your concentration on shutting the wood for a moment as you took a steadying breath.
“What about your party?” You wondered aloud, the man humming as he took a seat on your fully made bed.
“I’m tired of the parties. They’re exhausting.” He chuckled, covering his face with his hands as he reclined back on your bed.
Your heart skipped another beat at the vision, his tight pants leaving little to the imagination and buttons from his dress shirt stretched to new limits with his strained position. Diverting your eyes, you walked over to the desk chair in the corner of your room, reaching for a water bottle out of your mini fridge. Get a fucking grip.
Tossing one over to the bed beside Taehyung, you sat down in the plush seat, grateful that the man didn’t seem to notice your distance from him as you glanced out the window.
Until….
“Are you really okay? I feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”
At his sudden words, you froze, gripping your water a bit tighter as you brought your eyes back to his face. He was closer now than before, having scooted to the edge of your bed to lean toward you, eyes showing concern for you as you shuffled in your seat.
Taehyung was never one to beat around the bush, and at times like this, you really wish he would just brush some things under the rug as easy as you could.
“I’m good, Tae. Just have a lot going on, I guess. I’m sorry I made you feel like that.” You said, hoping to clear the air and dismiss the topic as soon as you possibly could. The man’s stare wasn’t helping your state any.
“No apologies. Just wanted to check in on you.” He sighed, seemingly disappointed with your lack of response before a hideous painting across the room caught his eye.
“What the fuck is that?” He griped, making you chuckle as he sat up to lean toward the art piece, squinting with his lip curled in amusement.
“It’s not so bad.” You shrugged, smirking when he turned back to you in bewilderment. Realizing you were teasing him, his eyes went back to normal size, a smile meeting his own lips at the return of your familiar banter.
“How can you sleep in a room with that shit? I feel like asking for a refund.” He shook his head, making you laugh before taking a swig from your water.
“Somehow I manage.” You replied, twisting the cap back on the bottle with a sigh.
It’s times like these that you feel as though nothing is wrong. Times like these that transport you back to periods of your life when Taehyung was just a call away, and you thought maybe, just maybe, you two had a chance. But that was over now. Those days were no more.
Because Taehyung informing you about a blind date then turned into him in a full blown relationship, a serious one at that, and soon enough they were taking big steps such as meeting the parents, moving in together, and yes, getting engaged.
Your friends had been just as shocked as you were, pitying you with deep sympathetic looks over Taehyungs shoulder as you hugged him in confused congratulations. It had all happened so fast...how did you manage to lose him forever?
Waking up the next day, you felt a particular heaviness on your chest. It was the day before the wedding, the rehearsal dinner turned into an entire day of partying for their guests. A celebratory day, if anything.
But waking up and getting all dolled up for this occasion was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, today or ever. You had always thought that you’d have much more of a starring role in Kim Taehyung’s life. Shaking your head to dismiss those kinds of thoughts, you cursed as you left your hotel room, wondering how the hell you’d be getting through this day.
Four martinis. Four martinis was how you’d be getting through today. The bartender had become one of your closest acquaintances over the past few hours, eyeballing you silently as he poured you yet another cocktail, your demands obvious that you were not drinking out of celebration.
Sitting at the bar, you contemplated everything. From the time you’d met Tae, you had been so sure that you two completed each other. Were you that naive? And fuck, why are you still thinking about this now? It’s over. You and Tae will never be.
Nearly jumping off your stool at a hand suddenly clapping your back, you shifted your gaze over to the arm belonging to Jungkook, one of Taehyung’s youngest yet wisest friends.
“You’re sulking.” He said plainly, dark eyes tracing over your faded features, briefly examining the drink in your hand before shooting the bartender a knowing look.
“You shouldn’t be out here.” You sighed, nearly breaking into a sob when his hand laid over yours, fingers fitting between your own in a comforting gesture. With one glance at the man, you gained all the information you didn’t want.
He knew.
You wondered how long he’d known. Jungkook, being the quiet and relatively introverted person he was, was an observer. He knew everything about everyone it seemed, by not speaking to them at all. He noticed everything.
You just hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes started blinking rapidly, and that he’d instead just go back into the party without another word.
“Neither should you.” He replied to you, his tone holding nothing but concern as he tried to catch your eyes.
You just couldn’t hold it in.
“Well maybe if I wasn’t in love with him I’d be having a better time.” You mumbled, leaning your head down on your hands, elbows pressed to the tops of your thighs, sad and tired as Jungkook froze beside you.
Unbeknownst to you, a concerned Taehyung had also come to find you, stumbling upon that very scene as Jungkook tried to console you.
Meeting eyes with his older friend, Jungkook’s mouth gaped open for a moment, opening and closing like a fish out of water as you cluelessly rambled under your breath about how stupid you were to ever let yourself come here.
With a shaky exhale, Taehyung silently began to put it all together. The way you’d been working constantly lately, picking up every shift you could to decline his repeated attempts at getting together with you, the way you’d ran off last night and brushed it off as you being too tired. It was all adding up.
You were struggling with this as much as he was. Maybe more.
But what Taehyung could do about this years ago was no longer an option, his hands shaking at his sides as he spun on his heel and walked out of the lobby. He could briefly hear Jungkook call for him but ignored it, breathing heavily as he rounded one of the hallways leading to the restrooms.
Unshed tears misted over his eyes as he hugged a corner of the wall, feeling rather unsteady as he leaned his forehead against the cool surface. The burning pain in his chest had him sinking down to the floor in an instant, sobs wracking his shoulders with heightening emotions rising in his throat.
You’d finally given him the green light. And it was too fucking late.
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cebwrites · 3 years ago
Text
Risqué
Qu'il me parle tout bas, Je vois la vie en rose
law x oc, he/they pronouns for law creampies, cock warming, semi(?) public sex, slight poly word count: 1.3k
Law would sooner dissect themself without the use of his devil fruit than admit it in casual conversation but sex in inappropriate places, particularly with the use of the Op Op fruit, has become something that undeniably gets his motor running, much to Law’s slight chagrin.
Kirin was mildly surprised at the notion but found himself easily accommodating his usually blithe companion’s sudden streak of unorthodox appetite - if it was what made Law happy, then he was eager to please; though he’d be lying if Kirin said that this new avenue wasn’t inciting and exciting to him in its own rite.
It started out of an inconvenience, if anything; Kirin was needy that one night and Law hadn’t felt like exerting the energy for proper sex so they simply handed Kirin their disembodied dick and told him to run along while they finished their work.
This quickly proved to be a ‘mistake’ as Law spent the next two hours unable to focus in the slightest as sensations of the various ways that Kirin decided to utilize his newfound organic dildo plagued their accursed physical being.
They moved in increments, slowly but surely getting bolder with every “experiment” conducted; Law once again leaving their member in Kirin’s possession as he went about his day, whether it was even used or not was up to him, then vice versa, having Kirin’s sensitive nub just within reach of Law’s jean pocket, fucking in the crow’s nest while their crews enjoyed themselves just a meters below, etc.
Kirin even agreed to be underneath Law’s desk as he conducted a meeting between the Heart Pirates, none (most) of them any the wiser to their captain’s bordering extreme-proclivities while Law coolly dished out every order in his same, serious monotone despite that he had one hand in Kirin’s hair below waist-level, warning his cheeky partner not to try anything funny, even with their cock snugly down his throat.
All of this culminated in the captains being sat among their nakama, opposite each other in the little log cabin that both pirate crews had situated themselves in, barely holding their poker faces together in the cozy, homey environment.
Kirin sat with his arms crossed, vaguely paying attention to a conversation between Tetsu and Penguin about wildlife, trying his damnest to suppress the heat creeping high on his neck with every twitch and throb of his partner’s cock buried deep within him.
He was grateful for the wind and snow outside - it gave Kirin an excuse to put on a sweater, if only to hide how pert his nipples were, leaving his hair down also covered the issue of that blush.
And Law? Well, they’d hardly moved a muscle since making themselves comfortable in the sole armchair that living room hosted; remaining almost motionless with one leg over the other with the occasional grunt and reprimand whenever one of his own got too rowdy.
At some point Bepo had chimed in to ask if the captains were alright out of genuine, innocent concern, but Rio, knowing better, simply reassured him that the caps were probably tired from the trek up here and wanted to be left alone, Penguin corroborated this and the two of them agreed to get their captains back later for this favor, but for now they’d leave them to their own devices.
As the gathering winds down and crew members start turning in for the evening or have separated off into their own little clusters of people close to them, Kirin and Law slip away to the master bedroom - only being stopped once by Reiji giving them a questioning look, followed by pecks on the cheek and a slap on Kirin’s ass.
“I’ll have something warm ready when you’re done.”
Law felt sparks of heat bloom all the way to his ears at their mutual partner’s comment and Kirin snickered into the crook of his neck as they fumbled with the lock.
Once behind the privacy of closed doors, both captains were all over each other - inseparable. Kirin couldn’t do away with the confines of his pants any faster and Law worked away their jumper much in a similar fashion. They didn’t even make it to the bed before delicate, needy moans began rolling from their lips, filling the room with their sweet sounds of shared pleasure.
Law hoists Kirin up onto the desk, enjoying the fine view of his disembodied cock rearranging their lover’s insides without having to so much as lift a finger, courtesy of the Op Op fruit, of course. Kirin moans and groans at the mercy of his partner’s tact. Law smirks - tracing idle patterns into Kirin’s shapely thighs as they watch their lover’s heat trickle and pool onto the wooden material.
“Law-- Moonlight, please. I want you, I need you now.”
Kirin damn near begs, pleas tetter on the verge of sobs and, well, with him asking so nicely at that - who is Law to deny the needs of his helpless, affection-starved lover?
Law shambles both him and his co-captain onto the bed, positioning themselves right between his legs. They deactivate the room, too. No need for such things when Kirin’s this needy. Law pulls out his length to affix it properly to their body, he’s pleased enough by the thin string of slick connecting it to his partner’s pussy to ignore Kirin’s complaints about hurrying up.
Once they’re ready, though, Law doesn’t waste any time getting reacquainted with the yielding heat of his partner’s core. Kirin’s moans are loud and unfettered, calling their name out in hymns of unholy worship - Law’s certain that it’s not nearly late enough to be going at it this loudly, but really he doesn’t care. We’re all grown ups here, what’s a little tantric sex between passionate kinky lovers who’ve been deprived of each other for weeks?
At the very least, the master bedroom was furthest away from everyone else’s and the lounge. The Heart Captain takes a little solace in that.
Kirin’s groans climb high and loud enough that even he has the mind to attempt silencing them with a hand. Law rewards him with a quirked smile, marks a tender trail of kisses down Kirin’s neck to the ample mounds on his chest, making a point to enjoy himself as he captures the sensitive nubs between his fingers and teeth, watching his partner squirm and mewl with the prettiest little pout in his eyes.
Law catches a glimpse at his own jolly roger tattooed on the older man’s arm and a primal flame washes over him, licking over his very being before instantaneously molding into something different when he meets Kirin’s eyes again, something infinitely softer but with a vice around his heart - never in a bad way, though. Not ever.
They slowly remove the other captain’s hands from over his mouth, swallowing his wonderful voice with feverous open-mouthed kisses. Kirin hooks his legs around their back, relishing in the cute rumble of laughter Law produces even in the throes of their passion. Foreheads pressed together, they ride their peaks out together, murmuring sweet little sounds of affection to each other as they get closer and closer to that little slice of heaven.
Lover. Sweetheart. L' amour. Darling.
Soon enough, they’re nothing more than a tangle of limbs in the sheets, erratic hearts beating as one that gradually begin to slow as the co-captains gather their bearings. The look Kirin wears as Law pulls out, spilling excess seed onto their temporary sheets from his well-loved entrance, is nothing short of blissful. Law merely rolls his eyes at it when Kirin wrestles him down for more cuddles.
Sure, he’s in a good enough mood tonight to indulge, especially when Kirin looks at him as happily as he does despite their exhaustion.
Two knocks.
Oh, that should be Reiji, then.
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plussizeappreciationfics · 4 years ago
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Series: Just the assistant..?
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Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Plus sized reader
Summary: [Y/N], Tom's personal assistant knows that she shouldn't have fallen in love with her employer but she just couldn't help herself. When she thinks that her biggest wish is about to come true, a third party arrives and makes her question whether she'd ever have a chance to escape her situation and simply be loved back by the person she loves the most...
Warning(s): None, I think?
Word count: 5,2k
Picture(s) found on: Pinterest/Google
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CHAPTER ONE: Ignition
"Just a few more minutes until they call, do you want something to drink?" (Y/N) asked Tom as she made her way to the kitchen, her heart fluttering nervously in her chest as the tension rose in his living room. 
He had been sitting on the couch, frozen on the spot while staring into space with his phone clutched tightly in his hand. He couldn’t voice the intense waves of anxiety and nervousness coursing through his body, time seemed to pass slowly. One of the producers of Harold Pinter's Play "Betrayal" was about to let him know whether he had gotten one of the main roles or not.
Tom had auditioned for the play a while ago and had desperately hoped that his performance was worthy enough to act the play out on the stage. He had always loved theatre, the interest had never decreased throughout the years. Harold Pinter was also a writer Tom had always looked up to as his plays always inspired and touched him on a deep level that not everyone was able to understand.
 "Tom" (Y/N) called out again.
He had never answered her question which had made her turn on her heel and focus her gaze on his tensed back and shoulders. He still hadn’t moved a muscle as his brain was clouded with too many thoughts at the same time. His assistant let out a soft sigh, her heart fluttering as she longed to gently place her hands on his back and give him a soothing massage. God...I just want to feel you relax under my touch. Whisper my name in a state of longing...
She bit back a craving hum as her eyes continued to appreciate his backside, he obviously needed some time to himself and wasn’t in need of any liquid refreshment. She turned back around and walked into the kitchen while hoping and praying that he’d get the role as he really deserved it. 
She empathised with his every emotion and felt anxious herself, a habit she had when loving someone. Once in the kitchen, [Y/N] quickly walked over to the fridge and took a bottle of water out of it, popped open the cap and let out a soft hum when the cool liquid made its way down her throat. It had been dry and itching for a little while but she didn’t want to leave Tom’s side. She was his biggest supporter, not just the assistant that had been loving him for three years now.
She couldn’t distinguish whether she ever crushed on him or just immediately found herself loving him. She had been a silent admirer of him and his work before she got the amazing (and well paying) opportunity to work as his personal assistant. But she was a professional and strictly made herself keep all the romantic feelings she had for Tom on the down low, she knew that both of their images were at stake if she’d dive into the cliché “employee messing with their boss” mess.  
It was easier said than done but she quickly developed some quality acting skills that prevented the British gentleman from even guessing her true feelings about him. She didn't want to jeopardise her job as it was something she really loved and appreciated doing.
"[Y/N]!" Tom called out in panic, causing her to place the water bottle on the kitchen counter and run back into the living room, where she found him standing in front of the coffee table with his phone still in his hand. The anxiety clouding his eyes quickly vanished the second he looked at his assistant, her presence immediately had calmed him down.
His loud ringtone echoed through the room.  “W-what should I do?” he questioned, feeling like he had lost all common sense while his heart beat harshly against his ribcage.
She chuckled and shook her head while pointing at his phone. “Accept the call!”.
He frantically nodded, letting his thumb slide across his screen before holding his phone to his ear. [Y/N] let out a shaky breath, this was finally the big moment and she was glad that she was the only one who got to witness it. He never put up a show in front of her during these types of moments and that was one of the many reasons why she loved him; he unconsciously made her feel so special on an almost day-to-day basis.
“Hello?” Tom spoke before a nervous laugh escaped his lips, “Gerald, how are you?”, his manners were impeccable while his facial expression turned serious. A big frown crept onto his face, he bit his lower lip and slowly nodded his head. The room got silent  and the assistant didn’t know what to do; she was silently contemplating whether to have a seat on the couch or stay on her feet, ready to walk away in case he wanted some privacy. 
A smile appeared on her face when the actor looked at her again, smiling brightly and motioning with his hand for her to take a seat on the couch. Her stomach fluttered in delight at the fact that he wanted her near and witness this exciting moment with him. 
She made her way over to the couch and was about to sit down when a loud gasp escaped his lips, a smile stretching across his handsome face. “Thank you so much! I-I can’t believe this! Thank you, thank you!” he happily spoke out and then chuckled. She stared wide eyed at him as she quickly caught onto what was happening.
He had gotten the role.
[Y/N] barely could hide her grin as she felt the anxiety disappear like a heavy weight being lifted off her shoulders. An overwhelming urge to reach out for Tom’s handsome face and press her lips against his overtook her senses. But she knew damn well that that was something didn't have the right to do. So, with a soft sigh she fought her inner voices and body parts to stay still and not do something she'd regret. 
Words couldn’t describe how proud she was of him, he was perfect for the role and she couldn’t wait to see the whole production come to life. Tom would have the time of his life and gain more experience in the industry which could lead to his next job, once the play would be over.
“I certainly will!” Tom laughed and nodded his head, snapping [Y/N] back to reality. They locked eyes and just grinned at each other.  “Thanks again, have a nice day. Bye!”, a loud laugh escaped his lips as he tossed his phone onto the couch and surprised his assistant by charging towards her and then quickly engulfing her in a tight embrace.
“I got the part! I can’t believe it!”
“Congrats, Tom! I knew you’d get it”. [Y/N]’s knees almost buckled as her arms were wrapped around his broad shoulders, his delicate scent filling her nostrils. Her body instantly relaxed and she felt lightheaded, she wished for this moment to last forever, this is where she felt to belong. In his arms. The actor gave her another squeeze and let out a relieved sigh, his body enjoying the intimate embrace, the sensation surprising him greatly. They had hugged countless times (which had always left [Y/N] a sensitive mess like in that current moment), but this time it felt different for him.
Her delicate scent mixed with her sweet perfume  made him close his eyes, his soul suddenly being at peace. The feeling of her soft and squishy body made him bury his head in the crook of her neck and gently sigh out in pleasure. She clenched her jaw in order to stop herself from gasping out loud as an intense shiver coursed down her spine. Tom had never hugged her this way, his beard tickled her sensitive skin and she loved every second of it. 
Her heart skipped a beat before playing a loud song against her ribcage, this felt like a dream. A delicate dream she hoped to never wake up from. The room was silent, their soft breathing being the only thing whispering through the atmosphere as the actor continued to enjoy the feeling of having his assistant so close to him.
 Pleasant tingles coursed through his body as he absentmindedly gave her another squeeze, her beautiful face appearing behind his now closed eyelids. No one spoke a word. Just two souls initiating their passionate connection.
 “Tom” [Y/N] whispered after a few minutes, needing to end the moment even if it made her heart ache. But she knew that if she wouldn’t speak up, he would and probably conclude that they’d been hugging for way too long and inappropriately. When he hummed softly and opened his eyes, he gave her one final squeeze before slowly pulling away and smiling at her. He didn’t regret anything.
 He drank in the sight of her beautiful face, his eyes sparkling suddenly. “We need to celebrate this!” the excitement was slowly bubbling up again in his stomach. The assistant let out a chuckle and pulled her out her phone from her jean pocket. “Sure, who do you want me to invite?” she questioned while trying to get down from the delicate high she still was on. His cologne mixed with his mesmerising scent still lingered in her nose and her heart even ached more now.
 Her fingers slightly trembled while typing in her passcode before she went on the message app, ready to send out a dinner invitation to Tom’s closest friend group. She cleared her throat and looked up again, her heart skipping another beat when she saw him smile brightly at her like she was the most delicate creature walking the earth...
 “How about I cook something just for the two of us and we can celebrate with Ben, Charlie and Idris tomorrow?”.
 [Y/N] let out a breathless chuckle and nodded her head, “Sounds great…”. Words couldn’t describe the euphoria pumping through her blood. Even though he hadn’t officially asked her out, she still felt happy and excited to spend some more time alone with him. She didn’t have high hopes of  something happening but just being in his presence was more than enough for her to soothe her cravings temporarily and that made her gladly accept every opportunity to be alone with him, work related or not.
 “Great! How about Chicken Fettucine Alfredo?”. She grinned, nodded and put her phone back into her pocket. She was overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do next, a part of her wanted to throw herself back into his arms and another one to get back to her house and let the previous, intimate moment dawn onto her. 
She chose the latter.
 “I-I’ll go freshen up and finish some tasks for you. Let me know when you want me back” she smiled at him one last time before walking towards his front door, knowing that the actor was staring at her back. “Okay, I’ll send you a text message!” Tom gently called out and watched with a smile on his face how she waved her hand in the air to indicate that she had heard him. [Y/N] then had left his house seconds later.
 “Mhm…” the actor whispered to himself, suddenly feeling his stomach sink. The happiness and excitement simmered down while he sat down on his couch and leaned back. His eyes fell shut and he thought about what just had happened: He had gotten the role of one of his favourite plays and felt like he was dreaming. He couldn’t wait to start the project and try his best to captivate the people with his talent all over again. He was going to play Robert, a man whose wife was having an affair with his best friend of several years. 
 He was impatient to find out who was going to be casted as the other two characters: Emma and Jerry. He appreciated and loved his work so much, but knew that he wouldn’t have gotten this special part if it weren’t for his assistant who had strongly encouraged him to audition for the play. 
 [Y/N].
Tom could barely express how much she had changed his life for the better when he had hired her three years ago. He just had broken up with his famous ex-girlfriend and was being bullied by her fans so much that he disappeared from the spotlight once his work schedules were cleared. 
His friends didn’t see him often as he hid away in his house, trying to tune out the discomfort and regret he felt from letting the whole world focus on his relationship. He was known for keeping his private life private, but the love he had felt for her had made him disregard his own strict rule and boundary. To be publicly ridiculed was one of harshest lessons he had to learn.
That's when his agent suggested hiring a personal assistant to help him keep his profile on the down low until he’d feel better. 
[Y/N] was hired not too long after his hiatus from the public eye, her job had been to see what roles the entertainment company Tom was signed to had to offer and also fulfill personal tasks like going grocery shopping or sending out birthday gifts and so on. But with her already having caught serious feelings for him, she had a natural urge to also take care of him, not as her boss but as a confidant and comforter.
 It was her bright, charming and loving personality along with her soothing and encouraging ways that slowly brought Tom out of the protective bubble he had created around himself. A strong friendship was quickly formed while he felt himself change back into this natural self. A better self.
[Y/N] became his silent rock to lean on while continuing to work for him. When he was back to his naturally charming and funny self in public and private, she had become conscious about her feelings for him. She was surprised (but also very relieved) that no one had suspected anything. Benedict and his wife Sophie, Idris and his Wife Sabrina along with Charlie and his wife Samantha all had quickly grown to love her as a part of their friend group.
The assistant was way more loosened up with the actors wives as they had a very close and strong bond as women. Around the male actors, she was a tiny bit more reserved but just to keep up the professional “I am not hopelessly in love with my boss and don’t want you to know about it” act. 
But Tom was just as supportive of his assistant when life became difficult for her too. Often placing a comforting hand on her shoulder or back while fighting the urge to hold her close and promise to take care of whatever issue she was facing when she couldn’t keep the tears to herself anymore. Tom and [Y/N] had come a long way together, individually and as friends.
“Bloody hell” 
Tom muttered when realising that he had zoned out for a good ten minutes. His stomach was doing flips but he didn’t feel sick or nauseous. The overwhelming urge to feel [Y/N] so close to him again had left him craving for more ever since she had left his house. 
He bit down onto his lower lip when he remembered the delicate sensations tingling through his body, the intensity was something the actor hadn’t experienced in a long time. Or ever. He shook his head, snapping himself out of his little daydream and shot up from the couch. “I should go grocery shopping for tonight’s celebration” was what he muttered to himself before picking up his car keys from the small coffee table and saying his goodbye to Bobby who had waltzed into the living room with a wiggly tail. 
Tom chuckled, petted his beloved dog and then made his way towards the front door with a pleased smile resting on his handsome face.
~~~
“Fuck, why am I like this?” [Y/N] cried out in frustration as she was standing in her full length mirror, staring at her naked body wrapped in a towel. She just had gotten out of the shower, her skin was glistening and glowing from the lotion she had applied to her body, her hair moisturised . She was scanning her body from head to toe and slowly felt herself become insecure. She had this lingering feeling that the hug she had shared with Tom had a deeper meaning. 
 Her conscious refused to let go of the matter and she found herself wondering if he’d ever be interested in her. Her eyes continued to scan her body from head to toe, every thick bump and curve being intensely observed. “Stop it” she hissed at herself, shaking her head and trying to distract her craving heart from the fact that it might had found its perfect match. “I’m just the assistant” [Y/N] reminded herself before stepping away from the mirror and walking over to her closet.
 She didn’t want to overdress for a simple celebration dinner, and quickly decided on a simple and comfortable outfit for the private event; a pair of black jeans, a white, long sleeved shirt with not too much cleavage and a black jean jacket in case she'd get cold.  
It took her a few minutes to get dressed before she focused on her hair and light makeup. She chose to not wear many layers of makeup. Tonight she preferred a natural look that would also enable her skin to breathe easily. Once she was done, she gave herself a final look in the mirror and nodded her head in approval.
 She looked beautiful, as always.
 “Let’s do this then” she whispered to herself and then made her way out of her bedroom. Now all she needed was for Tom to let her know that he was to welcome her back into his house.  “Okay, it’s nothing special” the assistant muttered to herself while suddenly feeling her heart starting to beat faster in her chest.
 This was the usual habit she had whenever she was about to see the British actor: reminding herself that her deepest desire wouldn't become reality and to keep herself in check. [Y/N] had been in love and had loved a decent amount of people but never had she felt these intense emotions for someone. 
She had been with the most charming and loving or shitty and selfish people, the heartbreaks she had gone through were either very painful and long lasting or quick and rather painless. It always made her wonder how Tom had been able to sweep her off her feet in such a delicate yet simple manner, and why she loved him stronger with each passing day.
The plus sized beauty was now in her kitchen, eating a granola bar while sitting at the counter. The silence in the house smoothly encouraged her to relax for a little while and unwind. She had finished the few tasks she had to do for her boss; making sure that his stylist had the suits ready for his public appearances that were coming up in a few days.
A BAFTA event was just around the corner and Tom had gladly accepted their invitation as he was one of the many ambassadors. The organisation had planned a few games with delightful prices such as apprentices abroad for upcoming musicians, actors and artists or tickets to Tom’s upcoming play to encourage people to get in touch with their creative self. 
The actor was thrilled to meet new people and witness others from different backgrounds, to witness them earn amazing opportunities to either learn, travel or create themselves artistically.
[Y/N] wouldn’t join him to the event. She had a lengthy list of new things to work on for her boss. The final Avengers movie would be released in the theaters in a few months but Tom wouldn’t join the press tour as he’d be on stage here in London. But his own Loki series had gotten the green light so he’d have to start meeting up with the creative writers and producers to see how they’d bring the series to life. It was obvious that Tom would be booked and busy for at least a year.
[Y/N] got lost in her thoughts again, absentmindedly finishing her granola bar while planning her following weeks ahead, she knew that stressful days were ahead but she didn't mind that at all. At the end, she'd get her job done.
It took her a few minutes to snap out of her daze before her phone loudly notified her that she had received a message.
From: Tom
Finally, she thought to herself while unlocking her phone and reading Tom’s new message.
To: Me
I’m done cooking, waiting for your presence now 😊
From: Me
“Aw” the assistant cooed with a wide grin on her face, the message was so short and simple yet it made her feel like she was floating on cloud nine. Especially because Tom rarely used emojis, so to see that she was worthy enough for a smiley face filled her heart with joy.
To: Tom
Her thumb hit the sent button before she hopped off the kitchen stool, her heartbeat increasing again as she felt a rush of warmth and excitement ripple through her body. 
I’m on my way 😊
[Y/N] took her purse off the counter and placed her phone in it before taking out her keys. Her footsteps softly echoed through the air as she made her way to the front door with a gorgeous smile resting on her face. She couldn’t wait to see her love again.
“Wow” was the first thing Tom whispered once he swung the door open, his eyes immediately were blessed with the sight of [Y/N] standing right in front of him. Their eyes sparkled while staring deeply into one another. “Hi” [Y/N] whispered, her body relaxing instantly while waiting for the actor to welcome her back into his home.
~~~
“Hello” Tom finally spoke, his heart pounding so hard that he was afraid she’d be able to hear it.  He took a step aside and widened the door, “Please enter”. The assistant thanked him before walking into his house, not noticing how he closed the door while whispering a soft “You are so beautiful” into the air. 
“It smells amazing” she complimented while already having placed her purse on the small coffee table in front of his couch, now patiently waiting for the actor to turn around and interact with her.
Tom took a few seconds to lock his door before finally turning on his heel and biting back a grin when his eyes landed on [Y/N] again. Her beauty and presence were sucking him into a delicate whirl of endless contentment, but he didn’t fight it. “Thank you, I hope you’ll enjoy the meal. How about a drink first?” he suggested while walking over to her and playfully holding out his arm to her.
She chuckled and happily linked her arm with his, his cologne mixed with his scent filling her nostrils while they made their way into the kitchen where she could hear the soft sizzling filling the air. Tom led her over to the big counter where he already had set the table and everything else up, some candles included. It looked like a romantic dinner.
[Y/N] clenched her jaw to stop herself from voicing how pretty everything looked, it looked like a meal for lovers, not employer and employee. But she swallowed her thought, not wanting to risk saying anything that could ruin the smooth and delightful vibe. So with a soft sigh, she turned around and gently thanked Tom for preparing the celebration dinner.
“Don’t even mention it” he chuckled and made sure that she was comfortably seated before he rushed over to the pans and pots and started to serve her the celebration dinner. Her mouth watered at the delicious sight and she couldn’t wait to dig in. But she patiently waited until he was done with his own plate and was seated before she rose her glass filled with non-alcoholic Peach Moscato. [Y/N] wasn’t planning on getting drunk as the next day would be very hectic for her.
"To you” she gently spoke, her heart fluttering in her chest when Tom copied her actions and smiled brightly at her. “No, to us” he added and let his glass with the same drink clink against hers.
“I didn’t do anything” the assistant responded with a soft chuckle before taking a quick sip of her drink and humming in delight. It tasted delicious. “You’re the actor who went to the audition” she added before lifting her fork and smoothly digging it into a piece of diced and seasoned chicken.
Tom shook his head while following her motions, “You did a lot actually. I wasn’t sure whether I was good enough to even audition for the role. But you encouraged me and supported me from the beginning to the end, and I can’t thank you enough for that [Y/N].
Once his words left his mouth, the room fell silent. 
[Y/N] and Tom just looked at each other, so many unspoken emotions flashing past their eyes. The tension had shifted again but not to something awkward. It was like their souls were communication as the sparkles in their eyes never left. They only thought about each other and how grateful they were to be in that intimate moment with one another.
The actor couldn’t stop thinking about how he suddenly longed to be close to her again. Feel her warm and soft body pressed against him, have her scent make him forget about the world and just focus on her. His lips tingled, the urge to feel hers pressed against his overwhelming him.
[Y/N] was thinking the exact same thing, the attraction she had felt for him only became stronger with every passing moment. Her breathing became quicker when her mind started to picture how it would feel to kiss him…Hold him close while letting their lips melt together as one with nothing but love and passion.
“T-Thank you” was all she was able to say as she snapped back to reality and realised that she hadn’t responded to his kind words. Tom nodded his head and gave her a bright smile before both of them continued to enjoy the food together.
“This is scrumptious” the assistant praised with a hum before taking another bite, trying to play it cool while she felt the heat and warmth course through her body. Tom chuckled and bowed his head, blushing at the simple compliment, “I’m happy you’re enjoying it”. What he didn't voice was how he had spiced up the simple recipe, the need to impress [Y/N] driving him through the short time of preparing the meal.
The two of them then continued to eat while talking about their upcoming vacations, the production of the play wouldn't start until a few weeks and the Loki series was months away from being filmed.  [Y/N] didn’t want to just talk about their work and happily listened to Tom voicing his desire to travel to Asia again for two weeks. He then told her about filming Kong: Skull Island in Vietnam and Hawaii. Throughout the dinner, his hand found hers numerous times and he gave it a gentle squeeze before sliding it back and either taking a sip of his drink or finishing his plate.
"And so I had to explain to my boss's ex-girlfriend that he had wanted the engagement ring back but that he was too embarrassed to come and collect it himself! After he had been caught red handed cheating on her!" [Y/N] finished explaining the crazy story about her previous employer, clasping her hands against her cheeks and shaking her head at the awkward memories.
___
Tom was having a delightful laugh, his cackles echoing through the kitchen while trying to imagine how his assistant must've felt in that moment. "That is just crazy! I assure you [Y/N] that I won't ever ask you to do such a thing for me" he chuckled at the end and shook his head.
"Good, because that experience made me add lots of terms and conditions to my general contract. I've actually been rejected a few times because those who had been interested in hiring me didn't approve of my demands" the assistant chuckled and rolled her eyes.
"Like I have no issues going grocery shopping for you but I won't do your dirty laundry or buy lube and condoms for you at 3 o'clock in the morning...". The last phrase made Tom almost choke on his spit before he burst out laughing again, his cheeks starting to hurt from all the smiles and laughter. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed or enjoyed someone's presence this much.
"Shit, Tom. it's almost midnight! We've been eating and goofing around for hours!" [Y/N] gasped in panic, not having realised how fast the time had rushed by. She quickly got up and took her now empty plate, strutted over to the sink and was about to wash it when Tom's voice stopped her.
"Don't even think about turning on the sink, [Y/N]. Let me do this" the soothing yet amused tone in his voice made the assistant roll her eyes and simply place her plate in the empty sink and turn around with a defeated look on her face. "Fine! But I better get going then, thanks again for the meal, it was delicious".
Tom grinned at her and joined her at the sink, both of them washing their hands before drying them and making their way out of the kitchen. "It was my utmost pleasure, [Y/N]". No words were spoken after that as the assistant collected her purse and made her way to his front door, feeling like she was floating on cloud nine.
"Let me know when you get home safely, okay?" Tom whispered while surprising her again with another gentle hug, his arms and hands welcoming her delicate body again. All poor [Y/N] could do was nod her head and close her eyes for a few seconds, no thoughts clouding her head as she lost herself into the embrace.
"Goodnight" she then whispered while pulling away, looking one last time at his handsome face before creating some space in between them, her heart feeling like it was about to combust into flames. "Goodnight beautiful, thank you for being you" Tom whispered, the sparks glistening in his eyes as he watched his assistant bite her lip to prevent herself from grinning like an idiot.
The two of them shared another gentle moment before [Y/N] turned around and left Tom's home. He watched her walk down the front porch and to the drive in where her car was parked. The man couldn't keep his eyes away from her, she was all he could think about and he couldn't stop whispering her name every few seconds while watching her drive off into the night... 
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-Emmanuelle 💋❤️
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plant-flwrs · 4 years ago
Text
lacquer // fred weasley
masterlist!
a/n: hey y’all..... hope u all still love me this is my peace offering <3 i take some pretty big exams tomorrow and my brain is kind of restless but also unproductive, so i cranked this out. i have no idea if its complete shit or not so lmk if i should jump into lava after u read it. also send good vibes for me and my exam tmr. love y’all. 
summary: Fred asks you to paint his nails
(1.5k)
----
The first time you noticed Fred staring, you were sitting on the floor in front of his bed, using his trunk as a desk as you worked on some Potions notes. Fred hung off the end of his bed, looking at you from upside down. The blood was rushing to his head, so his hair and face were just about the same color. He didn’t seem inclined to move, however, and his eyes were staring at the way your hands glided over the scroll you wrote on. You thought he might like your handwriting, or maybe he was just zoned out. 
The second time you noticed him staring, you were leaning against a thick oak tree by the Black Lake. Fred was laying between your legs, head propped up on your stomach. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, fingers tapping mindlessly on his chest. His head was tilted down, and you thought he had fallen asleep until his arms were moving. His larger hands grasped yours, twining your fingers together. His hands were pale and strong, like the rest of him, but slightly calloused from years of gripping his beaters bat. There were some freckles that crept down his wrist, like sparse constellations of stars, on his hand. He held your hands in front of his face, idly twisting and running them over his own hands.
The third and final time, he was very obvious. You were in his dorm again, waiting for him to be done with practice. You had long abandoned your homework, instead choosing to paint your nails to pass the time. You sat by the window, on the ledge, so the nail polish wouldn’t stink up the whole room. Fred and George bounded in, laughter on their lips. George shoved him to get to the bathroom first, slamming the door and locking it before Fred had even moved from the doorway. His eyes were locked on you, gaze flicking between your hands, the nail polish, and your face.
“Hey, Fred,” you said, carefully twisting the cap back onto the bottle. “Practice alright?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, dropping his things at the foot of his bed and coming to sit with you at the window. “Alright.”
You moved your hands in the air, letting the breeze harden your nail polish. Fred picked up the bottle you had put down, twisting it in his hands and reading the label.
“This a muggle thing?” he mumbled, holding it close to his face and squinting.
“Yeah, but they have magic kinds,” you said, holding your nails out and then bringing them closer to your face, cleaning around the edges. “There’s this one that I like, it’s black, and after it drys the galaxy and stars appear and move with your hands.”
“Hm,” Fred hummed absentmindedly, still playing with the bottle. 
You suppressed a smile as you gently took the bottle from Fred. His eyes moved to yours, abandoning the nail polish for the first time since he sat down. 
“Want me to?” you asked him quietly, smiling at him.
Fred’s brows furrowed, and his head turned to look out the window for a moment. You stared at him, not used to moments where Fred actually stopped to think about something. His face was serious, his jaw clenched a bit. He looked stern from the side, his hair damp and sweaty from practice and a slight red flush still on his cheeks and neck. His freckles were coming out as the sun did, and his hair was getting lighter, too. When he turned back to look at you, you felt your face soften. Fred could be so pretty sometimes. 
“Yeah,” he decided, holding his hands out to you, “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” you took his hands gently, placing one on each of your knees.
Fred watched every move you made, when you shook the bottle, when you opened it, when you lifted the cap and when you rubbed off the excess nail polish on the side of the bottle. Fred watched with a small smirk as his nails were being painted, nice and slow so you wouldn’t mess them up. 
“I just realized,” you said slowly, leaning back to look at his nails before bending over again to continue, “we’re going to have matching nails.”
Fred laughed lightly, and the small action made hair fall into his eyes. He waited for you to be done with the nail he was painting before he shook his head back, his hands flailing in front of him slightly with the strained effort of not touching anything. 
“You willing to go ginger, too?” Fred joked, leaning forwards and haphazardly pushing your heads together. He pushed, and you leaned back some before you pushed back. You met in the middle, both hunched over Fred’s hands as you did the final coat.
“You already have a twin, Freddie,” you mumbled, fighting against Fred’s head to keep still and do a good job. 
“You’re much cuter than he is, though,” Fred sighed, leaning back and admiring his nails with a wide grin.
“Hey!” George scoffed, feigning offense as he entered the room and toweled off his shaggy hair.
“It’s true, mate,” Fred said, wiggling his fingers and resting them back on your knees, “easier on the eyes.”
You laughed and rolled your eyes, standing carefully so Fred’s wet nails didn’t get caught on you. 
“You can’t shower until those are dry,” you said, taking the nail polish and twisting the cap tight, “Which is a bummer, because you reek.”
George howled a laugh and Fred scowled at you. He stood, taking a playful step towards you before you held your hands out, “Ah! Can’t mess up your nails, Fred!”
George laughed again, slipping on a sweater over the shirt he had on.
“Where are you going?” Fred shifted his gaze from you to George, watching George gather his things into his school bag.
“Lee said he’d help me study for the Care of Magical Creatures Exam we have next week.”
“Interesting,” you drawled, looping your arm on the bedpost of George’s bed and swinging into his personal space, “because I can’t recall seeing Lee taking notes in Care of Magical Creatures this week. Or any other week, ever, for that matter.”
George blushed, playfully shoving your shoulder. You spun the other way, smiling at him as he gave you a rude gesture before he slammed the door shut.
Fred came up from behind you, wrapping his arms carefully around you and hovering his hands above your waist.
“Careful!” you yelped, taking his hands and inspecting the nails.
“Dorm to ourselves,” Fred murmured, leaning down to press his lips to the spot beneath your ear, “What to do with all this space?”
“What to do indeed,” you twisted in his arms, looking up at him, “Except watch your nails dry.”
You quirked a teasing brow, sliding out from his grasp and falling onto George’s bed. Fred groaned in distaste, falling onto his own bed and waving his hands frantically in an attempt to get them to dry faster.
---
Fred liked to credit himself for the idea of you painting his nails. You liked to think it was your idea. The origin got lost in the details, but the end result was undoubtedly the best decision either of you had ever made. 
Fred had always loved the way your hands looked on him. When he held your hands, the elegance and perfection of your hands in his made his heart stutter. He could watch the way your fingers looked as they slid up his chest for hours. 
What Fred was starting to love even more, though, was the way his hands looked on your body. He had taken to new positions when you made out in his dorm, small changes that he didn’t think you’d notice.
Fred twisted from where he planted himself between your legs, facing you and crawling up your body. He reached down and grabbed your thighs in each hand, his eyes trailing the movement as he did it, and pulled you down the bed so you laid flat. Fred heard your breath hitch, so when he leaned down to kiss you again, he was smirking. 
When he finally pulled away for air, he lifted off of you. His hands slid down your sides, the polish on his nails long chipped, and worked back up your sides, lifting your shirt. 
His eyes glazed over and he felt like his arms might give out, so he fell back onto you and nuzzled his face into the side of your neck. You let out a laugh that sounded like a punch of breath and brought your hands to his hair. His breath was hot against your neck and his eyelashes tickled a little, but you didn’t mind.
You tore one of his hands away from your hips, holding it out to the side of you both.
“Need a manicure, Freddie,” you teased, making a tsking sound as you ran your fingers over his nails, “No respectable boyfriend allows their nails to chip like this.”
Fred chuckled, sending more hot air onto your neck, and retracted his hand from your grasp.
“Get on it, then,” he mumbled, squeezing you tighter and flipping you both so you sprawled on top of him.
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wizardouxie · 4 years ago
Text
PANTONE 2046 C
Genre: Fluff, #ZoeAppreciationWeek
Pairing: Zouxie
Summary: The Pink Hair Origin Story (alternatively also the Blue Hair Origin Story)
Word Count: 2788
Author's Note: First day of Zoe Appreciation Week! Wanted to participate so have this not so little one shot to showcase our lovely pink haired witch <3
"Wow, the dye came out really nicely," Zoe murmurs as Douxie exits the bathroom, his hair freshly blown dry -- from its tips to the full bangs dipped in a deep yet striking blue. He smiles widely at the quiet compliment and waves over to Archie.
"How does it look Arch?" they ask, though the answer is pretty clear, if Archie's fond gaze is anything to go by. The familiar flies in to nuzzle his face.
"Dashing as ever, Douxie."
Zoe leans back into the couch with content, taking in the beautiful sight that is her best friend. She did really good. The faint buzz of adrenaline lingers on the pads of her fingers. Right, she forgot. That was her first time.
"Are. You. Crazy? I've never even dyed hair before!" the natural brown haired girl hissed. She begrudgingly wiped the bubblegum that had exploded over her lips -- a result from the initial shock when Douxie first made his request. Granted, she felt honored that they would come to her before anyone else, but still! She can't risk ruining his hair, she doesn't have experience, plus the hair salon could totally do it better and-
"I'd rather it be you than anyone else," the wizard confirmed firmly. Zoe turned to the familiar. Surely the cat who lived with this stubborn kid could knock some sense into them. Archie could only provide a shrug in response.
"They're pretty sure about this."
She groaned.
"Fine, fine! But give me a few days unless you want me to pick out the wrong dye and end up with neon green."
[ 1 Week Later ]
Zoe couldn't keep track of just how many hair channels and blogs she'd gone through. She mimicked their hand movements, using cheap wigs and mannequin heads to simulate the experience. Through it all, one voice echoed the same message: "You can't mess this up."
She bought all the necessary tools. Gloves, hair clips, bleach, foil, just to name a few. Oh, and of course the dye -- though you'll be surprised how one can forget the simplest things while getting caught up in trying to memorize everything. Blue, Douxie had asked for. But what kind of blue? Sky blue? Cobalt? Midnight? Which one? She pinched the bridge of her nose before angrily texting the wizard. It went a little something like this:
DOUX: go with whatever you think will look good! i'm fine with anything tbh :]
ZOE: i Hate you so much
DOUX: ??? WHY
ZOE: IDK SHIT ABOUT HAIR DYE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT LOOKS GOOD
DOUX: let's talk about this in person before you electrocute your phone again
ZOE: you won't let me live that down will you
DOUX: you know me so well ;)
She shoved the phone back in her pocket. There's no way she was actually doing this for him.
She was.
"Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" she asked for what would be around the 73rd time. Douxie pulled his face down with both hands.
"Ugh, the answer is still yes, love. I'm not asking you to dye the whole thing, just the front part, bangs and sides."
She rolls her eyes at the nickname and smacks the clean brush against his head. She smiles at the little 'ow' that Douxie lets out with a pout. Hm, cute.
"Alright, but don't start moping around if it doesn't come out the way you wanted it!"
"Nothing that a little magic can't fix if it gets to that point. Which I hardly believe it will."
And now here they are.
Douxie crashes on the couch with Zoe, slinging an arm over her shoulders. She raises an eyebrow at the sudden physical touch, but it's never unwelcome. Not when it comes to him.
"You know of all human creations, I gotta say, this one really takes the cake," they start and Zoe snorts.
"You say that about nearly everything."
"Can you blame me?"
She looks at them and no, she really can't. In fact, she finds herself agreeing with him. He looks... really nice. A faint blush spreads over her face; not that it is noticeable by any means -- the two of them happen to have done this dying process starting from the evening to night, so the dim lights in her home do little to highlight her features. This is still her Douxie, lovable guitarist and wizard nerd who cares about everyone. Yet there was something about the hair dye that changed things up a bit. Something good, naturally.
The two of them fall into a comfortable silence, doing whatever is usually available. Sometimes it's texting, scrolling through social media, or listening to music. Other times it's zoning off and reminiscing about the past.
Zoe decides to go for her phone, unconscious of the way her hand finds its way into Douxie's hair, carding through the locks and untangling them with nimble fingers. It's peaceful. Maybe even a little too peaceful, considering the two of them are adrenaline junkies.
"Douxie, I can hear you thinking..." she begins. It's a common way to start the conversation between them, and oftentimes she's right.
He turns around, her hand still in his hair, but enough to meet her eyes. Their own eyes look serious and her heart sinks. Were they not happy with their hair?
The answer is quite the opposite.
"You ever considered dying your hair too? Maybe we can match."
The untangling stops.
And then the tugging starts.
"Ow ow ow-"
"Hisirdoux Casperan you are a menace to society."
She does though. She considers it for weeks. Of course, Douxie doesn't push; it's her hair at the end of the day, she can do whatever she likes. But after seeing how well she did with the wizard, she kinda felt excited. She definitely can't forget the exhilaration she felt when she saw people compliment Douxie at Benoit's or at the GDT book store. Her heart started beating faster when he looked back at her with a proud smile on his face-- damn that wizard, they told the others that she did it for them, didn't they?
After a few days, a young girl in a cap comes up to her at the record store. Probably from Arcadia High, if her backpack stacked with books is any indication.
"Hi! I'm Claire. Claire Nuñez," the girl starts. Zoe raises an eyebrow in interest.
"Hey Claire. What can I get you?" she asks, raising a flask to her lips. There's no water. Damn.
"Um, it's not really a standard request, but um, I was wondering if you could dye my hair?"
Zoe chokes on her water. Dye her what?
"Kid, are you new here? This is a records store. I can give you the direction to the hair salon it's really not that far."
"No, no, no! It's just, this guy got their hair dyed and I asked if he did it himself and they said you did it for them so I came to you. It's nothing too big! Just a strand really," Claire rambles. She gestures to the invisible front of her hair, currently tucked away behind the cap, outlining it with her fingers. The hedge witch groans.
"That would be Douxie. Now, here's the thing I don't do this for just anyone. Douxie happens to be a close friend so what I did was a little gift for him. I don't even know you, so what do I get out of this?"
Claire pales.
"Uh, $20? I know a full head of hair costs way more but like I said, just a strand..."
Zoe's stomach rumbles in response. She had $5 currently in her wallet which could buy a snack at most. She pinches the bridge of her nose.
"Ugh, you're lucky I'm hungry. Catch me after my shift is done okay? And I only got one color on me, which is blue, you good with that? Otherwise bring your own."
"Yes of course, of course! Thank you so much."
"Yeah, yeah, now scram if you're not here to buy anything."
"Oh actually, I was wondering if you had anything Papa Skull released recently!"
Curse this girl and her good taste in music.
[ 45 minutes later; 2:00 PM ]
"Thank you for doing this by the way," Claire starts. Zoe waves it off. She doesn't really know why she agreed to this. Well kind of. She wanted to eat. But besides that, she also was curious to see if she could satisfy another "customer". Hair dying was never a profession she had properly considered and right now? It doesn't hurt to entertain a thought.
"Alright so I have the bleach, you'll need to let that set in and keep that before dying the strand you want. We can even add toner to neutralize the color post bleaching if necessary," she lists off. Claire shakes her head.
"That won't be necessary!"
The girl pulls off her cap and surely enough, there's a light blonde lock, similar to Douxie's, just a little lighter. Zoe's impressed.
"Well that definitely makes my job easier. Especially since this is my second time."
"Wait, second time?"
"You didn't know?"
"No?"
"Of course Douxie leaves that part out. You want out? I'll pay you back the $20 in four days."
"No, I trust you."
Zoe always believed that she had tough and cold demeanor. Clearly she's doing something wrong if people are finding her trustworthy just by looking at one dye job.
"Alright then, here we go! Don't say I didn't warn you," the witch replies. She wraps the cloth around Claire softly, and pulls up the bowl with the dye in it. With a gloved hand she separates the pale strands from the brown ones. The blue will definitely be more prominent here than it would be with Douxie's. Something tells her that Claire wouldn't mind.
From the looks of Claire's surprise, wonder, and delight, she definitely didn't mind.
"It. Looks. So cool! You're really good at this. Maybe you should start a hair dying salon or something," the girl rattles off. Zoe raises a hand.
"I'm already working two part time jobs so... no. But I'm glad you liked it. The blue looks really good. Stands out well."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Claire repeats, putting back her cap on. A feeling of confusion overcomes Zoe.
"Wait, why are you putting your cap back on? Don't you want to show people?"
"Duh, but um, my mom doesn't know about, uh, all this. You know, councilwoman things."
Zoe's mouth drops, the $20 bill crumpled in her hand. So that's why she didn't go to the hair salon. Nuñez is the councilwoman, so she'd know pretty much everyone in the town. And word spreads pretty fast. In summary: Claire would have gotten caught.
"See ya!"
These kids are going to land her in some serious trouble one day.
With a burger and soda in her tray, Zoe takes a seat and pulls out her phone. That Claire girl though, she's sort of inspiring. Adventurous. Not hesitant in taking chances. And you know Zoe, she absolutely loves the thrills of life. Whether it be hunting magical creatures or refining her usually unpredictable magic. The humans tend to have mellow definition of risk taking, in her opinion, but their examples are fun enough in their own way: crossing the speed limit, riding rollercoasters, anything along those lines. The brunette clicks on a familiar contact and begins typing.
ZOE: which color looks good on me
ZOE: don't ask it's for a stupid job thing
DOUX: which job?
ZOE: WHAT PART OF DON'T ASK
ZOE: hex tech, something for employee uniforms
DOUX: i was going to say pink since it brings out your eyes but if it's for uniforms i dunno, light blue?
ZOE: hm interesting
DOUX: you should just work here at the book store it's chill
ZOE: but then i'd have to deal with you
DOUX: now is that really a bad thing?
DOUX: zoe.
Light blue is definitely a no go, Zoe decides. Too much blue dye going around. But pink, hm she could work with that. It's a pretty bold color and it would compliment her eyes as well as her face in general. A win-win for her.
And as for how far she's willing to go? She decides to go all in. No tips, no ombre, just complete bubblegum hair. Of course this takes a few days to gather the guts.
'You can do it Zoe, just go for the bleach,' she thinks to herself. Her hands shake with nervousness and excitement. Frankly, hunting niffins didn't compare to the rush she's feeling right now. She closes her eyes and brings the brush to her hair.
Well, here goes nothing.
She winces as she feels the tingling sensation, but loads of videos have assured that such symptoms were normal. She continues to work at it, using the foil to make sure she doesn't bleach a part of her hair to death. It's long and strenuous, but she knows the results in the few coming weeks would be worth it.
She doesn't have to worry about Douxie finding out thankfully. Turns out these weeks are essential for Merlin's "To-Do" List. Apparently it was to find Camelot?
"The castle he means. Not the actual kingdom. That's been gone for centuries. Anyways, I'll be back once I actually find it. Dunno how I'll do it and it probably will take me and Arch a month or so, haha. Oh! And if my hirers ask you anything, it's a family emergency."
Hm, whatever. A brief thought of Merlin dying his hair neon green amuses her, before she goes back to watching more hair dye videos. They've become a little addicting nowadays. She's amazed at how often people do it. How do they keep their hair so healthy?
It's been four weeks now and Zoe's eyes stare at the pink concoction in her hand. PANTONE 2046 C. This was the shade that stole her heart in the middle of the hair dye aisle. No other color could compare in the slightest. Even the cashier who packaged her order hummed in approval.
"Nice color! Not many go for it, but it'll suit you for sure."
This time her movements are calculated, not clumsy or fear driven like it used to be. One could even say she's getting the hang of this. Her hair over time changes from platinum blonde to a dark matted pink. She lets it sit for a bit, meanwhile focusing on getting the dye out of her hands. This turns out to be harder than she thought and she sighs. Well, maybe another day.
After washing and blow drying her hair, she stands in front of the mirror. The witch staring back at her is almost unrecognizable. As if she were a new person completely. And she liked it.
The blank stare shifts into a grin and she tugs at her own locks. Goddamn. She looks really good.
And well, Douxie's reaction is priceless to say the least.
DOUX: you said to meet up at the museum where are you
DOUX: i swear if you slept in i'll send archie to knock down everything in your apartment
DOUX: ok no i won't but still it's been a month since we last saw each other come on
DOUX: wait a second
DOUX: you're joking
DOUX: IS THAT??? YOU????
DOUX: IN THE PINK
DOUX: oh fuzzbuckets you look stunning
DOUX: Hello this is Archie. You broke Douxie so could you please finish your conversation with whoever it is you're with and come pick him up? Your hair is absolutely lovely by the way.
ZOE: omfg
ZOE: can't take you guys anywhere
The witch smiles at the girls and nods over to a gaping Douxie and his cat before gracefully exiting the conversation. She approaches her friend and pushes his jaw up with her index finger.
"So I'm assuming you're digging the new look hm?" she teases.
"You have no idea," Douxie responds. A pink tint lighter than the shade of her hair blooms across Zoe's face at the expression of adoration in her best friend's eyes. The two of them have been through a lot together, seeing each other grow and change. And this time, it was a really fun and welcome one.
"I might try this again with a different color some time. You wanna join then?"
"Don't have to ask me twice."
It's crazy how all of this came from a chaotic, impulsive research project to help a friend. But honestly Zoe wouldn't have it any other way.
Maybe Douxie was right. Of all human creations, this one beats pretty much everything else.
55 notes · View notes
headheartbellarke · 4 years ago
Text
Love, Owen. | OWEN PATRICK JOYNER
Requested by anon: “Hi, I have a request for Owen! He's in love with Y/N but despite all his flirty comments, she's still oblivious, and he gets mad when one day she told him that she have a date. Please and thank you x”
PAIRING(s): Owen Joyner x fem! reader
WARNING(s): angst, owen being a dumbass, some language, fluffy ending
WORD(s): 3,343
SUMMARY: in which y/n is engaged, but owen is hopelessly in love with her.
A/N: took a little creative liberty here hehe :3
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    Owen taps his foot anxiously, and his roommate and best friend, Charlie, gives him a dirty look. “Can you stop that? I’m trying to text my sister.”
  “Sorry. I just feel anxious.” He admits, looking down at the grey tiles of Vancouver International airport.
  Charlie’s voice softens. “Why?”
  “I just haven’t seen her in so long and I’m scared if things are too… weird, or different.”
  “Hey, breathe, okay? She’s been your best friend for how long?” Charlie lays a hand on his shoulder.
  “Since we were five, so fourteen years.”
  “I can promise you that nothing will change, okay, buddy? It’s gonna be fine.”
  Owen nods, looking at the red, neon ‘Arrivals’ sign atop his head. He pulls out his phone from his pocket and his eyes linger on his lock screen, that is a picture of him and the person he is currently waiting for – Y/N, his best friend. He smiles at the picture – it’s them on her last birthday, and she is grinning, wearing a princess tiara and red, heart sunglasses, while he’s pouting, with a birthday cap atop his head, as she squishes his cheeks.
  He feels a tap on his back, and he turns around, his heart racing, fully expecting to see her, after two long months.
  But it’s Charlie, grinning with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
  A disappointed sigh escapes Owen, and he says, “What are you doing?”
  His friend shrugs and says, “Behind you.”
  He turns around again, and finally spots her, standing a couple feet away – and for a moment, his world tilts on its axis, and it’s just him and Y/N. Warmth courses through his veins, as his body goes on autopilot and he starts taking long strides towards her. She seems to also have frozen in time, but when she sees Owen, she runs, and jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around his torso, and her arms around his neck.
  The momentum shocks him, but he quickly recovers and holds her steady against his body. It’s like his brain is lagging – but he feels like he’s home when her fruity smell overpowers his senses.
  “I’ve missed you, too.” Owen whispers, as she buries her face in the crook of his neck. He feels the vibrations of her laugh roll into his body as she says, “I have so much to tell you.”
  He slowly puts her down, running his hands along the length of her back. Y/N takes a step back from him, and grins, and Owen’s sure that his heart melted, just a little.
  He knows that the fact that he’s in love with her is hopeless, pointless, even. But he can’t help it – how could he? Y/N is his other half, his best friend, his family. She is the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, and she is as sweet as sugar. She sees good in every human being, no matter how much they’ve hurt her – and has a spark inside her, that can put all the fires in the world to shame. She knows him like the back of her hand, and has always been there for him, with no expectations.
  So, it was quite inevitable that he fell in love with her.
  She reaches a hand forward, and combs Owen’s hair with it. “Your hair’s a mess, as usual.”
  “That’s because I didn’t have you to fix it.” He replies cheekily, but Y/N just laughs.
  “Your mother told me to remind you to do your laundry.”
  He nods. “Noted. Also, did I mention that somehow you’re a hundred times more beautiful than the last time that I saw you?”
  “Pfft. Where’s Charlie?” She says, and Owen’s unsure whether she is oblivious to or ignores his blatant flirting. It’s not like it has been subtle – he loves her so much that it’s impossible for him to not give signs at this point.
  “Right here. Loving all the attention that you’re giving me, kiddo.” Charlie says, walking up to them.
  She laughs breezily, hugging him. “I’m just two years younger than you, dude.”
  “I know – holy shit, Y/N, is that an engagement ring?” Charlie’s eyes widen and Owen feels his heartbeat race. “What?”
  He looks at his best friend, and she bites her lower lip. “That’s what I’m here to tell you.”
  Owen takes a step back from their little circle, suddenly feeling breathless. “So, you’re not here because you missed me, but because you got engaged to some – some dude?”
  “No! No, that was phrased wrong. No, that’s not it.” She mumbles the last part, but he’s not convinced. “It’s not some dude, Owen – Louis asked me to marry me.”
  “Louis? The guy you’ve been dating for three months?!”
  “But I’ve known him for a year!”
  Owen shakes his head. He absolutely hates Louis. To be honest, he hates any and every boy that shows an interest in Y/N, and that’s a lot of people – and who can blame them, right? But she’s always turned down those boys, choosing to have a movie marathon with Owen instead. But Louis – he goes to college with her, and even though he hates to admit it, they are quite alike – they’re both brilliant and ambitious.
  That’s why Owen’s always felt insecure ever since she said that he had asked her out – because how could Y/N choose him over perfect Louis? Louis whose part British, part French, is obsessed with physics just as much as Y/N is, who is tall, and handsome, who volunteers at homeless centres on his weekends, and is on the soccer team?
  When they went on their first date, he didn’t think much of it. She’s always going on dates, something about living life to the fullest, and making as many connections as possible. He didn’t think that anything would come out of it, because it never does. Sure, he wishes that he’s the one that she goes with on those dates, but at least, nothing serious ever happens on them. The last serious relationship she had was during their senior year, which was also when Owen had realised that he is in love with her.
  But now, he feels a heart crushing weight, the weight of his secret, because he never, ever thought that it would go this far.
  “You’re making a huge mistake.” He mutters and Y/N’s brows furrow.
  “Owen, please, you’re my best friend. You’re supposed to support me no matter what.”
  He shakes his head. “I can’t support you when you’re throwing your entire life down the drain.”
  “You never support me. You didn’t support me in high school, and you don’t support me now.”
  “Your high school boyfriend wanted you in the kitchen with a dinner plate and refused to let you go to Stanford.”
  “That is not the point. The point is, you’re supposed to have my back. But I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. You never call me – I get it, O, you’re busy with your life – and I’m so happy for you, you know that I am, but I didn’t realize that being an actor would mean that we wouldn’t even be friends anymore.”
  Owen pauses. It’s true, he has been ignoring her. But, in his defence, whenever they would talk, Louis was around. He’s always around. It made Owen feel pure, blind hatred because he is everything that Owen is insecure about.
  “That’s your fault.”
  She raises her brows. “Really? How?”
  “Because all you talk about is Louis!” He lies. “We all know that he isn’t gonna last, Y/N.”
  Her jaw clenches. “Excuse me?”
  “You don’t know how to be in a relationship. That’s why none of them last. You’re just gonna leave him and break his heart like all the other guys.” He says, bitterly. At this point, words are just flowing out of his mouth – almost as if some imaginary faucet in his brain has been turned on.
  “You don’t know what you’re saying, O.” She looks around, and Owen knows her so well that he knows that she is trying to hide the fact that she might start crying.
  Then, before he can stop himself, years of suppressed feelings rise. “I know you, Y/N. You think you’re better than anyone, but, in reality, you’re the worst. You treat people as if they’re nothing and you never, ever care about what others feel. You don’t care about anything – me, Louis or anyone.”
  A single tear slides down her cheek, but she quickly wipes it away, and Owen finally catches a sight of her ring – a single, beautiful, big diamond on a silver ring. Simple, just as she likes.
  That makes him even more mad, and he says, “You were supposed to be my best friend – but right now I can’t even look at you, Y/N.”
  His voice cracks when he says her name.
  “Is that what you think of me?” She finally says, her voice hoarse. Just speaking frees more tears from her eyes, and Owen’s heart breaks, but he can’t stop.
  He nods, and she chokes back a sob.
  “Owen, you don’t mean that.” Charlie whispers softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Owen forgot that he was here, and his throat tightens. He hates the fact that she’s friends with all his friends, and they love her as much as they love him.
  “I – I – I’m gonna stay somewhere else. Since you can’t, you know, even look at me.” She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, and Owen stops himself from reaching forward and holding her. He hates himself so much, right now – he said all those things that he didn’t mean, things that are completely false, just because he’s jealous. He hates the fact that his best friend is crying in front of him, and he has to look away because of his pride.
  “Hey, Y/N, that’s nonsense –” Charlie starts but Y/N raises a hand and says, “Please, Charlie. I – I can’t stand here and take this shit. I’m just… just gonna go.” She hooks a finger on her trolley, and drags it behind her, walking toward the exit.
  As he watches her go, Owen feels the heaviness in his chest return, like a stone. He feels his throat tighten, and his vision blur, while his mind races – he tries to catch a thought, but they’re all messy and he doesn’t know what to think. He feels like he’s trapped, like someone has put a plastic bag over his head, and he feels like there’s no air around.
  He is faintly aware of Charlie holding him, and whispering, “O, you’re having a panic attack.”
***
    “Owen? Are you alright?” Savannah asks, resting a hand on his shoulder.
  He nods. “Absolutely.”
  Madison plops on the couch beside him, in the break room. “Where’s Y/N? Wasn’t she supposed to come here yesterday?”
  Owen watches Savannah’s eyes widen as shakes her head toward Madison, who looks completely oblivious.
  “She… Uh, she… we had a fight, and she went to stay somewhere else.” He says, still reeling from yesterday’s events.
  Honestly, he doesn’t know what to do. After his panic attack at the airport, Charlie took him home and let him stay under his covers for the rest of the day, informing everyone on set that he had a bad cold and couldn’t make it. After a while, Savannah was there with bags of Chinese food for Owen and when he tried to eat, he remembered the fact that Chinese cuisine is Y/N’s favorite, and their go-to whenever they ordered take out.
  He told Charlie and Savannah that he absolutely hated himself, and that he was a horrible person, and everything that he said to Y/N were things that he is. He knows that what he said was wrong, and that there is no excuse for it, and not meaning them would not make him forget how broken his best friend looked.
  He’s spent all of today working with Booboo, avoiding Charlie and Savannah because he can’t stand the pity in their eyes for him.
  “You know, you should just apologize to her.” Savannah says, softly.
  He shakes his head. “She hates me. I know that. I know what I said is unforgivable.”
  “Owen, I’m a hundred percent sure that she could never hate you. I’ve known her for so long, so trust me on this.”
  “Well, I’ve known her longer, so trust me on this.”
  He lies on the couch he was sitting on and pulls out his headphones from his pocket.
  “Owen, come on –”
  “Just let me cry, Savannah. It’s what I deserve.”
  “That’s enough, Joyner. Get up.” Charlie says, walking up from behind them.
  “Leave me alone, Charlie.”
  “No. This is not you, all right?”
  “Maybe it is.”
  Charlie slaps him.
  “Dude! That hurt!”
  “That’s the point. Now come on, get up. You can either feel sorry for yourself and wallow in self pity for the rest of your life, or you can go to your best friend and apologize to her because you were a dick and tell her how you really feel and how you were jealous.”
  “She doesn’t –”
  Charlie slaps him again.
  “Dude, what the fuck!”
  “I’m so tired of seeing you mope. Mads, push him off the couch.”
  Madison scoffs. “I’m not gonna – OK, fine, don’t look at me like, Charlie, you’re so scary when you’re mad.” She grabs a handful of Owen’s shirt and drags him, but he gets up himself.
  “OK, fine! But I don’t know where she’s staying!”
  “Savannah will take care of that.”
  She nods. “I will. Just fix him, Charlie, okay? He looks fucking homeless.”
  “Hey!”
***
    Owen raises his fist above the white door in the white hallway of the very white hotel Y/N’s staying at. He pauses, taking a deep breath, but it’s hard because he’s feeling very anxious, and the white surroundings are making him lose it a little.
  He closes his eyes and builds up his courage. It’s hard because the person that usually makes him calm is the one making him nervous right now. Yet, he inhales a lungful of air, and knocks on the door.
  Knock’s not the correct word. He literally bangs on the door, the frustration rolling off of him in waves. His heart races in anticipation when he hears footsteps on the other side of the door which comes to a stop and Owen knows she’s checking the door hole, and wonders whether she’ll open the door now that she’s seen him.
  She does, and a little hope rises in his chest, and he thinks, or rather prays, that she doesn’t hate him. The door swings open, and she stands there, wearing a pink onesie and a nonchalant expression.
  “What do you want?” She asks, bitterly.
  “Everything’s so white, Y/N. How are you staying here?” He blurts out.
  She sighs, and proceeds to close the door, but Owen slides in, raising his hands. “Y/N. Please. Can I tell you something?”
  “Isn’t that all you’ve been doing since yesterday?” She snaps, closing the door behind him, and brushing by him during the action. Owen feels a flutter in his stomach at that.
  “I deserve that.” He admits, looking down at his shoes. “But please. Let me explain.”
  She walks away from him. “No. This time I’m talking.”
  She stares at him determinedly, and Owen gulps.
  “Yesterday – it was just another example of you… exploiting my weakness.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “You… I…” She trails off, and that determination fades from her eyes.
  At that moment, Owen notices her left hand, or rather the absence of a ring there.
  “Y/N, where’s your ring?”
  She smiles, sadly. “Don’t you understand? This is exactly what I’m talking about! You disapproved, and I broke it off! I broke it off with a perfectly good guy, and I broke his heart, Owen. Like you said I would. Like I’ve done to every other guy that was in my life.”
  She’s going too fast, he thinks. Finally, he says, “I – I don’t understand…”
  “Of course, you don’t! You never have and you never will! It’s you, Owen. You’re my weakness. You disapproved, and I… I called off the wedding. You weren’t completely right, Owen… I mean, I don’t care about Louis, about any other guy – but I care about you. I care about you the most, and that’s why I can never be in a relationship, and I never can get married. Your opinion, you mean more to me than anyone else, and it’s why I’ve spent the entirety of yesterday crying instead of doing anything!”
  Owen’s lips part, and he’s too scared to make anything out of Y/N’s words, because this time, he wouldn’t be able to handle the disappointment that usually comes after feeling hope about them.
  “Owen… I’m in love with you, and it’s breaking me inside.”
  Right now, Y/N’s face is damp with tears, but he’s frozen. He’s been waiting, waiting, waiting to hear those words and dreaming, dreaming, dreaming of this moment, but now that it’s happening, he doesn’t know what to do. Y/N scoffs. “Of course. Just… just see yourself out, okay?”
  She turns around, wiping her face with the back of her hand, and her movement is what breaks Owen out of his trance. He takes long strides towards her, and grabs her wrist, and the contact of her cold skin on his warm skin seems to shock the both of them.
  They stand mere millimetres apart, and finally Owen speaks, “Y/N. I was jealous yesterday.”
  Her eyebrows shoot upwards, and he continues, “I mean, Louis’ perfect! He makes me feel so insecure, because he’s clearly the better choice out of the two of us. Plus, you’ve always ignored my flirting, so I thought –”
  “Flirting? When?!” She asks.
  He loses it a little. “All the time! Dude! You’re the only person with whom I flirt! Like, I can’t even help it, it just happens –”
  “Are you saying that I’ve been oblivious –”
  “I thought – okay, never mind. Anyway. That doesn’t excuse what I said last day. I’m incredibly sorry, Y/N. I hope you know that I didn’t mean a single word that I said, and you’re the most caring person in my life, all right? You… you’ve always gone out of your way to be kind, and what I said was not true and not okay at all. I’m sorry. It was just years of frustration.”
  “Well, if you hadn’t been so daft, and said something earlier –”
  “I could say the same about you – okay, that’s not the point. The point is I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yesterday, I’m sorry for ignoring you all these months because I was insecure –”
  “You ignored me because you were insecure about Louis? Clearly, you’re the superior person in my life.”
  “Y/N, have you seen his hair and his accent? Clearly not.”
  “Well, you do have a point. Still, you’re clearly more important to me.”
  Owen can feel her breath on his skin now. “I always do. Y/N. I’m in love with you, too. I’m also sorry that I’ve been an idiot –”
  “Well, in your defence, we’ve both been idiots.”
  He smiles at her and raises his right hand to caress the side of her face. She leans into the touch, closing her eyes for a second.
  “Say it again.” He whispers.
  “What?”
  “That you love me too.”
  “I love you. I love you. I love you, Ow –”
  He doesn’t let her finish, but instead cups her face with both of his hands, and presses his lips to hers, the familiar, homely sensation arising, yet again. She tastes like chocolate and everything sweet in the world. She smiles into the kiss, and when they pull apart for air, she whispers, “Never interrupt me like that again.”
  He grins, his thumb rubbing circles on her cheek. “Noted. And Y/N?”
  She hums in question, her eyes shining like stars.
  “I love you.”
  She smiles, and it lights up his world.
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jatp requests open <3 as always, feedback is appreciated!
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marvel-and-mischief · 4 years ago
Text
Daisies
Part of my Floriography Series
Pairing: Pero Tovar x F!Reader Words: 2700 Warnings: gambling, swearing, alcohol, rough handling by guards, allusions to prostitution (it’s part of a scam), lighthearted punishment in the stocks Synopsis: Pero seems to always be around at the wrong time to sabotage your scams and join in with your punishments. Enemies to Lovers (sorta)
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Daisies: attachment, new beginnings
💐
“Now remember, ten or above wins you double your stake, below ten and your stake is mine.”
The scruffy drunkard sat opposite you let out a bellowing laugh, the nasty stench of his rotten teeth hitting your nostrils. His movements sloshed the tankard of mead in his hand, spilling some of its contents on the table between you. You had to hold back your look of disgust and smile through the uncomfortableness.
“I won’t lose. Throw ‘em, lady,” he slurred. You had to fight off the smirk threatening to show on your face as you shook the two, six sided dice in your right hand. You had nothing to worry about, the dice were weighted, favoring the lower numbers and therefore guaranteeing your win every time. 
“Alright, but when you win you owe me a drink!” you winked cheekily at your mark, catching his eye whilst you threw the dice on the table. The more you distracted them the less chance there was of getting caught in your scam.
The dice came to a stop and you both looked down at the same time; a three and a four, earning a groan of disappointment from the few onlookers that had gathered to watch.
“Better luck next time,” you grinned, gathering up your dice and winnings as the man muttered something unintelligible and grumpily left the table, “anyone else want a go?”
“I will.”
You froze at the voice in your ear and saw the figure of a familiar man take the recently vacant seat opposite you. Pero Tovar always seemed to show up in your life when you least wanted him to. He was an annoying ghost and you could never shake off his haunting. You should gather up your earnings and leave but something kept you rooted to the table. And the longer you took to contemplate your next move, the more the drunkards in the tavern wanted to know what was going on. Soon you’d attracted quite the crowd.
“I said, I want a go.”
You looked into his brown eyes, the ones that sparkled with humor, always at your expense. 
“It may be too difficult for your small brain to understand how to play,” you said through gritted teeth.
“Then let us play a different one. I will throw the dice, and if the total is lower than ten, I win every penny you have taken tonight.”
The bastard. The only reason he would suggest playing it that way was if he knew how you were cheating the game. You clenched your jaw in frustration. 
“I think I am ready to take my leave-“
“But we have an audience!” Pero smirked, raising his voice and waving a hand at the tavern full of people who hurrahed, eager for you to throw the dice. You were cornered, physically by the wall of people around you and mentally by Pero who knew if you refused the game it would look suspicious. 
“Fine,” you grumbled, faking an over the top smile, twirling the dice in one hand and clenching your other hand into a fist under the table. Stay calm, don’t show him how much he was getting to you, you told yourself. You’d chase him down afterwards and with a knife to his throat take your money back. That would show him.
You dropped the dice on the table and leaned back in your seat to see Pero staring at you. You didn’t need to see the dice to know you had lost, the weights that usually worked for you were against you this time, and the tavern goers yelled in surprise and delight, some were even joyfully patting Pero on the shoulder in congratulations. All the while Pero was smiling at you, self satisfied at playing you at your own game. 
You pulled the drawstring bag off your hip and threw it across the table, hitting Pero in the chest. 
“Better luck next time,” Pero mocked your earlier words, “would you like a drink to drown your sorrows in?” Pero threw the bag of coins in the air and caught it successfully. 
“Oh bugger off, Pero,” you hissed, leaving the tavern in a huff. You didn’t want to see him again this night. You’d get him back next time.
-
The boy was young, still a teenager but old enough to know better. His clothes were of the finest materials, gold threads held the pieces together and added beautiful patterns to the front and shoulders of the jacket. He even had a long, shiny feather in his cap. He stuck out in the crown like a sore thumb.
You had been scouting the market for marks all morning and he was the only person you thought worthy of relieving of coin. He had a guard with him, who was more interested in looking at the women walking by, and his coin purse was dangling enticingly down by his hip. It would have been much easier for a child to run along and snip the string with a knife but the only ones you’d found were hand in hand with their parents. So you were on your own.
You were hidden down the side of a building, in the shadows and away from prying eyes. Or so you thought until you caught the flash of a grin out the corner of your eye.
Pero Tovar was mirroring your position on the other side of the marketplace, the wealthy man in the middle of you both. Pero moved his gaze to said man and it was then you knew he was after your mark. 
It had been only a couple of nights since he took all your money at the tavern and you’d be damned if you were going to let him swindle you of even more coin. You had to get to the mark before Pero did, by any means necessary. 
You tried to plead with him, subtly shaking your head but all Pero did was lean against the wall and offer you a warning glare. 
The mark was buying a trinket from a stool, handing his purchase over to the guard to carry and looking around for where to go next. This was your only chance. 
You untied the string at the top of your tunic, letting it open up to display your chest more than you would usually allow. But you needed a distraction and a way of getting close to the man without suspicion. You pulled out the small scissors from your boot and held them comfortably in your dominant hand, shaking down your sleeve to keep them out of sight.
You tried to ignore Pero but as soon as you slipped out of the alley he did the same, heading directly for the wealthy man. 
Unfortunately whilst you were gaining speed through jogging movements, Pero’s purposeful strides were larger than yours, meaning you both reached the man at the same time. 
“Sir, could I offer my services-“
“You seem too respectable to want the services of a harlot-“
“Harlot? Excuse me, I am so sorry, this ruffian-“
“Ruffian! You should show some respect-“
Your attempts to get close enough to grab the purse were scuppered by Pero subtly pulling you away with a hand around your waist. And as much as you tried to pry him off you, he was strong and stubborn, rendering your scam completely useless. The wealthy man’s guard dragged him away with a growl in your direction to stop you from pursuing them.
“What was that!?” Those words had been on the tip of your tongue but Pero spoke them first. You looked at him with a confused frown.
“What?”
“What were you thinking? That guard could have killed you.”
“Oh do not pretend you care for my health, you wanted that purse to yourself.”
“I did, but when I saw you were going to get yourself in serious trouble I had to come and save you instead of getting the coins for myself. You are welcome, idiota.”
You stared at Pero in disbelief. Was he expecting gratefulness? You couldn’t quite believe what he was saying.
“I have been doing this for years and I haven’t gotten caught once. I would appreciate it if you didn’t save me again,” you huffed, tying up the strings of your shirt before stomping away from him. 
If you never saw Pero Tovar again it would be too soon.
-
You were mad. But you were mad that Pero was right more than you were mad at your actual predicament. 
You had been playing a simple card trick on an unsuspecting traveller, one that you’d played hundreds of times, it had never gone wrong. Somehow the extra card up your sleeve (the one you used to cheat with) had slipped out and fallen to the floor and a guard that had been watching had spotted it and arrested you before you could run.
So that was how you found yourself in the stocks all morning, set in the middle of the courtyard of the castle grounds for everyone to laugh at. A few delighted children had thrown various rotten vegetables in your face, most adults had taken pity on you and walked on by. Your back was hurting from being hunched over, your feet were aching on the hard, stone ground. But none of that compared to the pain of seeing your foe being dragged towards you. 
“Please, I beg you, this is punishment enough, do not put that man anywhere near me.”
“Anyone would think you hated me,” Pero grumbled, humor in his voice despite being guided towards his punishment.
You felt the top half of the stocks lifting off the back of your neck, a second of relief, as the guards situated Pero next to you. His hand was so close to yours you could touch him, not that you wanted to. The stocks were dropped down and locked in place and the guards left you alone.
“You bring me nothing but bad luck,” you mumbled, huffing as you shifted on your feet.
“Because I was not there to save you this time?” You could hear the smirk in his voice which irritated you.
“Because I have never been caught, and then you start showing up everywhere I go and I am caught, and to make things worse, I have to be punished next to you!” You laughed humorlessly, narrowly dodging a handful of what smells like horse manure. You shoot a glare over to the man who threw it.
“Carino,” Pero clicked his tongue and you felt his hand sweep against yours, “these rotten potatoes are preferable to your whining.”
You gasped and tried to flick at his hand but it only hurt your bruising wrists.
“When I get out of here I am going to find the biggest vegetable, fresh from the ground, and throw it at you.”
Pero laughed a large, belly rumbling laugh that surprised you. 
“Why are you laughing?” you asked, baffled at his sudden turn of emotions, but it didn’t deter him from laughing more. 
It was the second plop of manure hitting the top of your head that had you joining in with Pero. The ridiculousness of the situation, the bickering between you, and your damn hand kept knocking into his. It was all so silly.
You spent the rest of the morning in fits of giggles with the man you thought you hated.
-
You were thrown down the steps of the dungeons, your knees hitting the hard, dirty floor before you were hauled back to your feet to be taken to the cell that would be yours for the night.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” was the voice that greeted you. You saw him sitting in the corner of the cell, a growing bruise on his jaw and stripped of his leather outer garments. He looked softer in just a shirt and breeches, more vulnerable but also kinder. Like any ordinary man, not the pain in the ass you knew him to be. You chuckled at the sight of him.
“Your life would be boring without me,” you teased, but Pero nodded his agreement. You plopped down next to him with a sigh, stretching out your legs and feeling the soreness of your knees as you rested them. You rubbed at the tenderness over your skirts. 
“Are you hurt?”
“Some scrapes, that is all,” you assured him, but his eyes lingered where you were soothing your burning knees, “how did you end up in here?”
“Not my fault,” you raised a sceptical eyebrow, “a drunkard started a fight with me.”
“And where is this drunkard?” you asked suspiciously, looking through the bars into the other cells, all of which were empty.
“He passed out. The guards did not want to drag his useless body in here.”
You hummed, clearly not believing his tale. He rolled his eyes at you, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing.
“And you?”
“Hmm?”
“How did you end up in here?”
You sighed, remembering what had happened.
“A noblewoman thought I was going to steal her purse.”
“You were not going to steal her purse?”
“No!” You feigned looking scandalised at the mere suggestion, before dropping the act, “I was going to steal her dog.”
Pero guffawed, not expecting you to say such a thing.
“Her dog?”
“It would have been worth more than the coins in her purse.”
Pero rubbed at his tired eyes. You listened to the sounds around you; the guards gossiping outside the dungeon door, a rat squeaking somewhere nearby, the rhythm of Pero’s breathing. It was the first bit of peace you’d had in a long time.
“If we get caught again they will not simply throw us in the dungeons,” Pero whispered ominously. 
You couldn’t disagree with him, but there weren’t many other options for people like the two of you. You were wanderers and loners. You had no money, no home, no family. What choice did you have?
You glanced at Pero who was already looking at you. He looked defeated, with dark bags under his eyes and his lips turned ever so slightly downwards, he looked how you felt. Hopeless and alone. 
“We keep running into each other. That must mean something,” you claimed, feeling stupid as soon as the words came out. You quickly looked away and waited for him to mock you.
“You think this is God’s will?”
You shrugged and began picking at the dirt on your skirts.
“Perhaps we should do something about it.”
“Like what?” you asked, allowing your tone to lift in hope. 
“If we are meant to be, maybe we should get out of this town and find another.”
“Together?”
“Why not?”
You looked at Pero then. There was no teasing in his eyes or smirk on his lips, he was being deadly serious. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of sticking with Pero from now on. However, you couldn’t make it too easy for him. 
“Well for one, I’d be stuck with your ugly mug.”
Pero grinned and let out a deep, throaty chuckle. 
“I would wager my ugly face is better than the hangman's noose.” 
The room became sombre once more as you realised what your options were. You had to leave town, but you could either do that alone or with the man whose company you were beginning to enjoy. 
You felt Pero nudge your side and you saw he was holding a single daisy up to you. 
“Do you carry flowers at all times?”
“No, idiota, they are growing in the walls,” with an amused shake of his head he carefully placed the small flower behind your ear and leaned back to admire his work.
After your initial shock you smiled your thanks and he smiled back. 
“Bonita,” Pero muttered and leaned his shoulder against yours as he settled back against the cold, damp wall.
You think you could get used to sticking by his side. 
Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @computeringturtle
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siriusheadspace · 4 years ago
Text
august - sirius black x muggle!reader
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Warnings: I guess it's a bit angsty? But it's also cute, summer love fluff, so idk
Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle!Reader
Summary: You meet a cute boy in your summer job. You share secrets and live a beautiful summer love, but will you still see each other once school starts again? Inspired by "august", by Taylor Swift.
A/N: Thank you so so so so much for liking my last fic, illicit affairs! I guess I'll have to create a master list here lol. This one's a bit less gloomy and there's *sequel potential*, so please tell me if that's something you'd be interested in! Also, should I open requests? Do you guys have any? lol. I'm taking too long in this A/N, so lemme shut up. Enjoy the fic!
Words: 3.5k ish
-
Salt air And the rust on your door I never needed anything more
You were chewing the pen cap while at an especially tedious English Literature class. A head full of luscious black hair poked through the door, and you jumped in your chair, thinking for a second it could be the person you missed the most. But, of course, it was just a girl asking the teacher to make a class announcement. You tuned out immediately and let the memories flood through your mind. It was just the beginning of summer and your first day at an ice cream parlor in the middle of London. It was a funny neighbourhood - you didn't know why, but it always had a couple of people wearing the weirdest outfits, like weird flowy capes and tunics. But that wasn't really important - you just wanted to make a little money of your own this summer, and the ice cream gig was supposed to be easy. You quickly found out it wasn't as easy as it should be, since the owner decided to leave you to be cashier and server from the start, leaving you alone on your first day after little training. You were stressed, trying to guess if the ice cream machine was supposed to be that noisy or if you already broke it after only a few customers, when someone got in. Sirius regretted everything about spending the summer with his family. He was fifteen going on sixteen and decided to spend most of his days roaming through London, looking for a way to have a halfway decent summer, sending letters to his friends every day. He was about to go spend the day at the Diagon Alley, but he figured he could actually try to see different stuff for the day. Muggle stuff. Perhaps get a couple of new posters for his bedroom? That would piss off his mother. He smiled at the thought. But it was too damn hot for the beginning of summer, and he definitely wore too much black for his comfort under the scolding, rare sunshine. His locks of dark hair were starting to get wet with sweat, and he decided to put his muggle money to good use when he went by an ice cream parlor. He was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen, her hair in a lazy, long braid, her skin tanned and glowing, and her brows frowned as if she was bothered to see him. And you'd never forget how pleasantly surprised you were to see the tall guy that just went inside the store. You'd never be able to forget the way that there was something else about him - he was gorgeous, his long strides revealing from far away how tall he was, his hair pulled back in a makeshift bun - but there was just more, an aura that made him magnetic; magic, you first though instinctively, but shook the thought. Charisma, perhaps. But you'd soon found out it was his own particular mix of both. The bell started ringing and pulled you away from your memories.
Whispers Of "Are you sure?" "Never have I ever before"
While you walked through the corridor, you felt the rush of excitement you'd always feel when you remembered you knew a secret, one so special no one would believe you, even if you told them. "You must know something about me, doll", he said, cuddling with you on your bed in the middle of the afternoon, your parents still away at work. You ended up quitting the job pretty quickly after your first day, but you were making good use of your free afternoons. "What, babe?", you said, and you felt his smirk against the top of your head, where his lips were, him breathing in your scent. You liked to use gauche pet names as much as he did. "That you're not the smartest, since it's very stupid for us to cuddle in the middle of a hot afternoon? Or that you're actually really smart, but just enjoy being around me anyway?", you joked. "How very funny of you. I am actually kind of smart, I swear", he said, jokingly, but you felt him tense up as he started talking again. "It's sort of a serious thing, actually", he said. "A… Sirius thing, you mean?", you joked again, but he brushed it off with a quick laugh. "You would know if you'd let me finish speaking", he said, and you waited. He got up and seemed nervous, not sure what to do with his hands. You never saw him like this. "Do you know how you always ask me how do I do a few things? Like, how did I fix the vase I broke the first time I came here so perfectly?" he asked, and you nodded. "You said you got another one", you squinted your eyes, trying to guess where he was going. "On the same day? Y/N, I want to be close to you, to be truthful to you. And I can't do that if you don't know about such a huge part of my life", he said. "I have… certain… habilities. And my family does, too. And my friends, as well. The school I go to… Everyone has these abilities", he completed, and pulled out a stick from his backpack. No, not a stick - not by the way he held it, with purpose. You looked for the right word in your head. A wand. "Can I trust you with the biggest secret humanity has?", he asked, and you nodded. "You can trust me with anything and everything", you said. And nothing was ever the same.
But I can see us Lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time
You missed him so much your entire body ached; the feeling of his callous fingertips against your cheeks, the pressure of lips on yours, how his tongue felt against yours, his laughter tickling your skin… You had to stop thinking about him. It was no good and absolutely useless. It was good while it lasted, but it was over. Still, walking home, you couldn't stop thinking about how it was once you were in on the secret, how he'd do magic in front of you, how he would tell you all about Hogwarts, about his friends… And you knew back then that there wasn't a place for you in that world.
'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away Like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine
You could remember the warm nights you spent together, once your parents decided to spend a weekend away, visiting friends or your grandparents, and how you had to pretend to be sleeping over a friend's house while you had Sirius over. You would meet at a pub, and he'd charm someone into selling you beers, so you would drink together, just enough to feel buzzed. Sirius loved teasing you. He would start by just brushing his knee against yours, but as the alcohol got to the both of you, he would get bolder, running his fingers up and down your thigh under your flimsy summer dress, whispering sweet nothings against your ear, kissing your neck. You felt so much joy, basking in his attention and his carresses. The walk to your house would always take longer than it should. He was the most sociable creature, making quick friends with everyone that grabbed his eye. He would help an old lady carry her groceries to her apartment, completely out of your way back home, while charming her; there was the time where he joined a deep conversation about bikes with a guy that had one, this huge black Harley Davidson, convincing the guy to let the two of you, clearly tipsy teenagers, to have a ride on it. It took Sirius five minutes to figure out the basics of riding that bike and convincing you to join him. "Don't you trust me, baby?", he pouted, and you gave him a quick peck - you couldn't resist his pouts and pleading. "Not with that bike, I don't", you said, watching him already seated at the bike as if it belonged to him. He looked the part, his muggle (the word always bothered you) clothes made him look like the hot, moody guitar player in a rock band, the wind flowing from his side making his hair fly in front of his face. "Then take a little risk", he chuckled, pulling you closer to him. "You can use it as an excuse to feel my abs", he said, and it was your turn to laugh. "Ok, I'm sold", you sighed dramatically, and sat behind him, your hands creeping under his shirt for a moment when you wrapped your arms around him. The speed was more intoxicating than the few beers you had, the wind whipping your exposed skin, the noise violent on your ears, the warmth that came from Sirius' back being the only thing that made you feel safe. Once you gave the bike back to its owner and were back on your foot, you would still take your time on the way there, Sirius listening to stories about your friends, the books you were reading, the movies you were watching - you promised to take him to the movies, shocked to hear that he never set foot on a movie theater. And sometimes, since you would take that long on your way home just to tease each other, he would push a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pull you in for a kiss, your back quickly meeting whatever wall was closer and spending a few minutes against the texture of the tiles while Sirius gave you long, slow kisses, trying to make the most of the night. Once you got home, you would barely have the focus necessary to find the keys and open the door, and Sirius oftenly used magic to make your life easier. "Alohomora", he said, opening the door soon after, and you chuckled. "You sound so hot when you speak fake latin", you said, and he laughed while he followed you inside, quicky going back to kissing you while you tried to guide him to your bedroom. On those nights, after he was fast asleep, his smug expression erased out of his face by sleep, you never thought about how it would be between the two of you once summer was over.
Your back Beneath the sun Wishing I could write my name on it
One week, you decided you would both spend a couple days in Brighton Beach, counting every penny that you had so you could afford two nights in the middle of the week in a cheap bungalow. Sirius had exchanged magical money for muggle money and it wasn't as hard as you thought it would be to get the amount necessary. "Well, my family sucks, but at least my allowance is halfway decent", he smirked, but the smile didn't get to his eyes. "It does help that muggle money is so devalued. Shouldn't you guys complain with your prime minister, or something?", he said, expecting you to go along in the joke as you usually would. But he touched on a subject that you felt it was taboo: he never talked about his family. You knew something was wrong - all the time you spent together was outside or in your house, and he never seemed too keen in having to go back to his parents place. "Is this the moment where you tell me more about your family?", you asked, and he sighed. "It didn't go unnoticed that you felt more comfortable to tell me about actual magic before taking me to meet your mom", you joked, but he knew you meant it. "Oh, Y/N… You could never meet my family. They'd never be able to appreciate you", he told you, and then went on to explain how there's a side of the wizarding world that despises muggles, that values purity of blood before anything else, and it killed you inside, a bit. That you were right in that gut feeling that you tried to ignore. He was too good for you. You didn't belong together. There was a whole part of his society that focused on that. And his family was totally on that side. But you avoided thinking about that in those two blissful nights away. You were close before, but that routine - waking up together, cooking breakfast for each other, seeing him getting letters from his friends delivered by owls that came inside the kitchen of the bungalow as if that was normal. He bought a polaroid in the beggining of summer and tried to adapt it to take magical pictures - according to them, they were supposed to move - but it didn't work. Still, you documented those days in normal polaroids, from candids of him drinking tea in the morning to pictures of you at the beach, and he sent one of you two together to his closest friends, and your heart ached at the thought of part of his world being even the least bit accepting of you. You'd trace random patterns on the skin on his back while he tried to tan, writing your name on him and hoping there would always be a part of him that belonged to you, that would be able to return to you once you were apart, like you did with your favorite toys when you were a kid. A childish desire to keep him with you. You loved your nights out, holding hands while going on rides that were probably unsafe and operated by other teenagers, convincing Sirius to try to win you prizes, and actually getting him a teddy bear - you were a better shot. And he would try to do magic discreetly when you asked him to cook or clean something, and you messed with him for cheating on those chores. It felt like you could absolutely live together forever, making that little bungalow home for those magical hours. You even held his wand, felt the texture of the wood against your fingertips, noticed how it was well used, the parts of it where you could see that his hands touched more oftenly, the worn wood reminding you how he was a part of something that you could only imagine for way longer than he was part of your life and your world. But he soon joked that you were "taking too long playing with his wrong wand", and you'd laugh and kiss him and forget your concerns.
Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinking I had you
You felt the nervousness as the summer approached its inescapable end. As Sirius went out to buy school supplies one afternoon, you couldn't escape the anxiety caused by the uncertainty surrounding your relationship. You just spent the most amazing few months of your life with this guy you absolutely Loved, with a capital L, and you weren't even sure you'd meet again after a few days. You didn't know his address and you couldn't send letters there anyway. You had no idea how to send a letter to Hogwarts. Once you met him at a park near wherever he would buy supplies for a magic school, with him excited to show you what he got and hear about your day, you were already unable to hide the change in your mood. "What's wrong, sweetheart? I was just talking about you with James and..." he said, and he noticed he chose the wrong words when you winced at him. "So you can't even introduce me to your friends that are supposed to be tolerant that you're dating a muggle?", you asked, trying to sound mean, but he could hear how much you were hurting under the façade of anger. "It's not like that, Y/N. There's too many people from Hogwarts there now, people that don't like me or my friends and despise, hum, people like you, and it would be dangerous for you if they knew they could hurt me by messing with you", he explained, but it didn't soothe the pain in your chest. "What is it gonna be like once you're not here, Sirius? Is there a way for us to even talk? I don't own a magic owl, and I don't think the postman is going to able to find Hogwarts", you said, spiteful. "Do you even want to continue this, us? Or are you going to be with people your friends and family can actually know about and meet, that can defend themselves instead of just being a source of weakness for you?", you asked, your voice trembling, all the thoughts you avoided for months taking space and energy, growing inside of you and blurting out. "Y/N..." Sirius started, but you were done for the day. You got up and went home.
But I can see us Lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine
You liked being with him too much to waste your last few days together, so you accepted his apologies for not taking you to meet his friends or more of his life, but you couldn't help but notice that he didn't have plans to do what he apologized for not doing. Still, you enjoyed your last few days, the picnics under the last few sunny days of the year, taking him to the movies to watch silly horror movies that Sirius fell in love with, making out with him under the soft movie lights that reflected beautifully on his gray eyes.
And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away Like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine
The last night you had together made you nervous. Sirius had prepared himself to go straight from your house back to the station, hiding his luggage on your parents garage and climbing to your window. You drank wine you stole from your parents cabinet and talked in a low voice the entire night - you thought that was what you'd miss the most, just being near him and listening to his voice, to the varying inflections, to the fancy words thats would slip and denounce him as someone from a rich family, to his excitement at the perspective of being back with his friends, and to the low energy tone that followed once he said how much he would miss you. "Hey, I figured out how to keep in touch", he said, a coy smile creeping on his lips. "But I need to know at what time do you get home from school", he completed, and you quirked up a brow. He explained that his owl would bring you a letter from him and wait for you to answer with one of your own, since you didn't have another way of getting to him. You were happy that he found a solution, but it didn't go unnoticed, again, that it seemed like a simple solution that maybe he though about before, but wasn't sure he wanted to go through with you. Also, you'd always be at his mercy and will, having no way of contacting him besides when he wanted to hear from you. But at least there was a way, a chance…
Back when we were still changing for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope…
The next morning, he woke you up at dawn with a quick kiss and said goodbye, promising to contact you again. That was three weeks ago. I mean, you couldn't really blame him. He was beautiful, talented, smart, and everyone knew summer loves weren't forever. He was probably met by a swarm of beautiful witches that would do everything for him. It would be easy to forget about you, your normal, common life. But you felt resentment towards him. He could've just been honest, you thought. He shouldn't have given you hope. He should've been honest about your intentions. He shouldn't have made you act like a fool everytime your classes came to an end, always running home and looking for an owl in the sky, only to be greeted by the emptyness of your silent house. You were getting tired of feeling angry, though. It tarnished your beautiful memories of a perfect summer. You just had to say goodbye to your hopes of getting to see Sirius again, to hear his perfect laughter, always laughing with you and never at you, the ringing in your ear that would send a shiver through your back, or that you'd never feel the silky perfection of his hair tangled between your fingers again… You were trying to come to terms with that, distracted, once you got home. There was an owl on the front window, standing on the window sill. Your heart skipped a beat.
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