#stealth is good at handling things like that so i’d LOVE to have him handle my animation hopes and dreams

[zaynes-ocs]

I’ve been kinda dead over here so here! Have a little snippet of Xadian chillin on a rock!

[kalixora]

Tfp Bumblebee x reader

Summary:

A skilled autobot sniper, frustrated by their lack of hand-to-hand combat abilities and hidden feelings for Bumblebee, trains intensely to prove themselves, while the team offers support, unaware of the sniper's inner conflict.

1/2

Once again, Bumblebee saved you from cons. You grumbled walking back to base, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. You weren’t the weakest but definitely not the strongest, not like the wreckers with their brute strength or quick like Arcee with her agility.

You were a sniper, skilled at taking down enemies from a distance. Your strength lay in your ability to blend into the shadows, moving silently and striking precisely.

However, in hand-to-hand combat, you often found yourself at a disadvantage, unlike Bumblebee, who excelled in it.

“You okay, N/N?” Raf asked you with a smile.

“I need to train,” you answered back with a low groan.

“He saved you again, didn’t he?” Raf snickered, closing his laptop.

“I don’t wanna hear it—“

Raf laughed, “N/N! It’s okay! You’re a stealth scout, not a brawler. You play to your strengths.”

You sighed, leaning against the wall. “I know, I just need to be able to handle myself in a fight alone.”

Raf nodded thoughtfully. “You know, maybe you could ask Bulkhead for some training. He’s tough and knows his way around a fight.”

“You rolled your optics. “I’m not asking that jumbo bot for nothing. I’d rather suffer.”

“You’re suffering now,” Raf remarked gently. “Why does it bother you so much that Bumblebee helps you? You guys are on the same team after all.”

You looked away, frustration and embarrassment heating your face plate as you stormed off to the training room. In your hurry, you accidentally bumped into Ratchet, causing him to drop his toolbox with a clatter.

“Y/N! I needed that!” he shouted after you.

“I need to train!” you shouted back, your voice echoing down the corridor as you continued on your way.

“Geez, what’s her damage?” Ratchet muttered to himself, shaking his head in confusion as he picked up his things.

“Bumblebee saved her and asked for a bridge back, and she’s upset,” Raf explained with concern in his voice.

“She’s one of the best weapon specialists in the making. What does Bumblebee have on her?”

“Hand-to-hand combat,” Raf replied softly, recalling the many times you’d voiced your frustration over it. Ratchet raised his optical ridge and let out a gruff chuckle. “Seriously? That’s it?”

Raf sighed, sensing the weight of your struggle. “I’m starting to feel a little bad, Ratchet—“

“There’s no need, Rafael,” Ratchet interrupted. “Y/N’s feelings for Bumblebee are the only reason she feels she needs to be better.”

“Wait—Y/N has feelings for Bee?” Raf repeated, surprised.

“Always, it was plainly obvious,” Ratchet shrugged, moving towards his work station. “She’s too stubborn to admit it, so it’s not my problem to solve.”

Raf hesitated, considering the revelation. “Maybe I can help…”

“Good luck with that. Just leave me out of it,” Ratchet waved Raf off, already engrossed in his work.

Meanwhile, in the training room, you continued to focus on your drills, unaware of the discussion unfolding outside.

As Raf pondered how to approach the situation, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of responsibility towards helping you navigate your feelings. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to find a way to support you, even if Ratchet preferred to stay out of it.

The ground bridge opened, and the other Autobots came in, all of them seeming cheerful and in good spirits.

“Oh man—and the way I took down that con was awesome! I wish Miko was there; she would’ve loved it,” Bulkhead exclaimed.

“Jack would’ve been screaming his poor lungs out if he saw that,” Arcee chuckled. “But I really gotta hand it to you, Smokescreen. You’ve improved a lot out there. I’m impressed.”

Smokescreen rubbed the back of his helm. “Ah, well, what can I say? I was made a natural talent. Kinda like you, Bee.”

Bumblebee whirled with excitement, exchanging high-fives with the others before heading over to Raf.

“Hey Raf! Where’s Y/N? I gotta show her something I found before she left,” Bumblebee beeped and whirred in his unique language.

Raf nodded and pointed to the corridor. “She’s in the training room, oh and Bee, she’s a little upset right now, so be a little easy on her.”

Bumblebee nodded, concern flashing in his optics. He headed towards the training room at a light jog. Entering the room, he saw you in the middle of your drills. “Y/N,” Bumblebee beeped softly, trying to catch your attention without startling you. “I found something cool I wanted to show you.”

You paused mid-strike, turning to see Bumblebee standing there, his optics shining with genuine excitement. The frustration you felt earlier mingled with a sense of warmth at seeing him.

“What is it, Bee?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bumblebee held out a small, intricate piece of Cybertronian tech, something rare and valuable. “I thought you might like this. Optimus said it’s a tool used by the old weapon specialists back on Cybertron. I found it in the wreckage during the mission before you left.”

Your optics widened in surprise and curiosity as you took the item from Bumblebee’s outstretched servo. “I haven’t seen this before, Bee. Thank you.”

Bumblebee smiled, glad to see a spark of happiness in your optics. “Why are you training? Aren’t you tired?”

You looked down at the tool, trying to hide the mix of emotions swirling within you. “I just… I need to get better. For myself.”

Bumblebee tilted his helm, a concerned whir escaping him. “But why?”

You hesitated, your face plate becoming warm, you turned your helm away. “I just have a lot to prove, so you don’t have to keep risking your neck to save me all the time.”

Bumblebee placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I’m always here to help.”

You nodded, feeling a bit lighter. “Thanks, Bee. That means a lot coming from you, but— I need to work harder.”

You nudged Bee’s shoulder away then gave him a meek smile before walking out.

Bee stood in the room slightly lost, “Was it something I said?” He beeped.

. . .

A few days later, the others hardly saw you. The only times they did was when you were going into recharge or going on missions with Optimus after much begging that they obviously didn’t know.

You stood in the middle of a field waiting for Optimus to ground bridge to you so you could continue your training with him.

“What’s taking so long—“

The ground bridge opened out came not Optimus but Bumblebee and the others.

You froze in place as you saw Smokescreen waving at you with a smug expression.

“Scrap,” you muttered as you crossed your arms.

“Sorry to crash your date N/N, Optimus wanted us to tell you that he got stuck doing something with Agent Frowler.”

“Rude, how dare you ruin our alone time,” you rolled your optics with a smirk on your face plate.

“So you gonna tell us why you’ve been with Optimus so much or do we have to guess?” Arcee asked walking up closer to you.

“Nothing really, just extra training and learning how to use this tech Bumblebee gave me,” you answered truthfully, showing Arcee your sniper with the added tech while switching your servo.

“Ooh, Knockout was going crazy for that thing. I’m shocked you managed to grab it, Bee,” Bulkhead chuckled. “Nice! We are freakin’ awesome.”

Smokescreen and Bulkhead high-fived each other while Bumblebee laughed, and Arcee smiled, placing her hand on her hip.

You turned around and walked further into the field, a scowl on your faceplate. The further you went into the field you saw a small rock poking out off to the side. You walked closer to it unsure of what it what, still hearing the laughter and banter behind you didn’t bother to turn around.

Hearing footsteps behind you, you looked over your shoulder pad seeing Bumblebee. He gave you a small friendly wave before beeping, “What’s that?”

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 9: Looking Over Fences

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: Things may seem alright on the other side of the fence if you’re not consciously looking at it, but both sides are on the struggle currently

Word count: 2,268

Content/warnings: Mentions/allusions to self harm that are a poor joke, mob themes, mentions of blood, mentions of death, threats, annoyance, pushy behavior and lowkey misogyny, possibly a very bad decision, Peter being a sweet lil brother essentially

Author’s Note: This is lined up so the phone call she makes at the end would occur in Ch. 5 of The Rainmaker

I hope you guys are liking this AU, and I’d love to hear all your thoughts. Comments, reblogs, and asks are greatly appreciated!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >

The following week since Bucky had left the farm was…okay. It was fine. And to be honest, you didn’t really care for much that was going on outside your own bubble. You fielded the occasional call or text from Steve or Decks, never from Bucky, trying to make it seem like everything was okay, but that was pretty much it.

Peter was helpful, monitoring shipments that started to come in, but more so, you could feel the way he was monitoring you. Perhaps to make sure you didn’t jump off one of the bridges you’d helped to design in town. But what did that matter? They were like ten feet off the riverbed anyway. And it’s not like you were faring that poorly. You were just a little sad, but not enough for it to affect you, but the people closest to you in your life thought differently than that. And by closest, right now you meant physical proximity: Peter and Curtis.

Everywhere you went, if you turned around and squinted enough, you could still see Peter in a distant corner. He definitely needed to work or his stealth skills, or perhaps he was purposely making sure you could see him, letting you know you didn’t have to be alone. That was too bad, though, because that was all that you wanted. To be left alone and sulk and just do your work like the good farmer you are.

So you did, and tried to ignore your shadow figure following you around in jeans and a shirt you’d made Curtis bring him from the store in town. He was just so tiny that he was swimming in everything else you had for the boys, and you weren’t really sure if he would want your old, nasty clothes. The ones you were hardly wearing anymore after your got back late at night, in favor of the only thing Bucky had left behind: a single Henley.

But really, it was fine. It was okay, and you were going to be fine. If only Curtis would stop asking! You could handle everything on your own, just like you had before. That’s what mattered, right? The only one you could really rely on was yourself, and no one needed to see how much pain you were actually in besides him. The one who got to be so happy with his sweet girl while you were separated, independent, alone. Any time you made a snide comment about it outside the soft likeness you were known for prior to these mood swings, Curtis simply let it roll off his back, giving you a tight hug, and moving on, avoiding the subject once again.

Bucky was miserable. Just like you, he threw himself into work to try and ignore the pain. He needed someone around, though. Struggling alone wasn’t as easy as it used to be, so he searched for help. What the hell was this attempt at a healthy coping mechanism? One that landed him in the apartment of your best friend, no less.

Bucky had tried to find Steve upon his return, the second in command still working double time, plus essentially a new part-time job of flirting. Steve didn’t say it, but Bucky could see it. Plus, he got an earful from Sam about their developing situation in the debrief of preparation for coming back to work. Good for Steve, not relatable. The only chance he could get to find his elusive best friend was to track down his car and jump in. So after Steve had picked up snacks for what appeared to be a movie date, Bucky snuck into the trunk to hide. Any attention, or just human presence, especially that of someone you seemed to enjoy so much would work.

Bucky was exhausted. His nights were sleepless again, but now for different reasons. He couldn’t sleep without you. He didn’t want to sleep without you. But his body didn’t get the message as he was pulled under by the gentle rocking of Steve’s SUV.

He woke up to the familiar, gentle voice in his place amongst the grocery bags. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep in such an uncomfortable suit. It was one of his trash suits: one of the scratchy ones, one of the ones he didn’t care if it got a little bloody. To be honest, he didn’t care right now. Who did he have to impress? This was the first time he’d been out of the house in a week. But this was better than no clothes, and why waste something designer when no one was important around to see it? This mindset was completely different than two months ago.

Bucky groaned and sat up from the trunk, telling Steve his true feelings, something rarely voiced, so who was Steve to turn away from that vulnerability? Bucky really just needed someone, and even though Steve really wanted this private time with Decks, his best friend needed him more. In response to Bucky’s request to joint them, Steve’s lips formed a tight line and his nostrils flared with a frustrated, but sympathetic huff.

“Fine. Come on upstairs.”

The time with Decks and Steve really helped Bucky, even though he could tell he was very evidently interrupting something. Once the movie was over and Decks was asleep, Bucky checked his phone to see a new message: another employee dead.

As the weeks went on, employee deaths had been on the rise with even a few occurring at first when he was at the farm. It initially seemed like weird chance events. A missing employee here and there, unfortunately, was normal when you owned so much of the city. They would usually turn up again, but this time it was different. Employees were dying, both innocent and mob-associated alike. This was targeted, and he knew exactly who was doing it: Lloyd. He was closing in on business, looking to intimidate. This was going to fill Bucky’s time well, combined rage from these slaps in the face, as well as the constant berating you were starting to face from Cole (as Peter had reported), working as fuel to the fire of reclaiming his rule over the city.

Not only did business suck, but if someone asked Steve and Sam, they’d say their boss was a menace to society, and not in the good way. He was running himself, and them by proxy, into the ground. Nothing was ever enough for him, and they were catching the brunt of that. Maybe there was a way to fix it, but what was coming wasn’t quite what they had in mind. With all the shit going on in the city, they hoped things were better for you.

You had no idea what Bucky was going through besides the small things that Peter updated you on, but you hope it wasn’t as bad as having to put on a fake smile for an annoying, fake farmer.

It was as if Cole was consciously waiting for Bucky to leave your farm for him to start coming around again. It was like clockwork, with a gift from him earlier in the week, followed by an in-person sometime visit in the second half. It was like he was hoping to find you to more vulnerable like this. If that was the metric he was going on, though, he was severely underestimating your abilities. Bucky had been gone for three weeks, and Cole seemed unrelenting.

At least your rage at his persistence gave you something to fill your days with. And Peter was a delightful gossip, making impressions of the clumsy and pushy ‘farmer.’

You didn’t really have the desire to keep any of the gifts you were receiving but the cow, though, which was quickly growing, ready soon to move into her shed out back. First, it was the little things, like her, but then things started getting bigger. A Turner’s drink fridge. Where was that supposed to go? Then a hydroponics tower. That…well, actually, that one was kinda nice. Those things were expensive, and you hadn’t gotten the chance to invest in them yet. But what could a singular one possibly do for you? And then a tractor. One not even graded for the type of work you had to do. Each gift was punctuated by him forcing his way into your house right at dinner time, and sitting with you and Peter until you could shove him out, polite as ever.

His last visit, though. That one was a little bit different. You could see the smug look on his face as he ate off your cutlery. It was an insult that the plates and utensils your family, and Bucky, once used were touching his mouth. You’d purposely set those ones aside, reused for only him each time, and marked them mentally to be blown up once this all blew over. You were sure Peter would enjoy that, too. And hopefully it was sooner rather than later, but until then, it was one dinner at a time.

You walked Cole out to the porch, like you did every time, but instead of walking straight out to his truck, this time, he lingered for a second, turning around and looking down at you.

“Listen up, Sweet Peach. Sure, my capacities right now, every time I visit you, are limited, but I’ve got friends in low places. I’m not gonna give up. Either you give me the farm, or my buddy Lloyd starts a war with your boyfriend.”

A threat like that made you lose your usually cool demeanor for a second. “Cole, absolutely not!” This came out of nowhere.

You had to find a way to hit his pride. Maybe that could cause him to back down without retaliation. “What’s the valor in me handing it over, anyway? It would be worth so much more if you earned it. I know you’ve got something to prove, just like in high school.”

You did your best not to cringe at the memory. You obviously didn’t care about back then and it still pained you to think of it. Living in the past wasn’t something you did, but it was very evidently something he was caught up on. “Work to earn my farm, maybe you’ll earn my respect…and possibly a little something else.”

You bit your lip trying to be suggestive. Ugh, this was humiliating, but his entire manner of carrying himself shifted from his poor attempt at intimidation to intrigue. After all these years he still couldn’t help himself trying to win you over, and he was still a doofus.

“Oh yeah? And how do you suppose I do that?”

You tapped your bottom lip with your pointer finger, humming. “Mmm, how about a wager? Winner takes all, or at least just my farm. I win, Lloyd doesn’t wage war, either. Deal?”

“Wait, wait. A wager on what?” He licked his lips, still giving you a look that made you sick to your stomach.

“How about a game of pool? And tell you what, I’ll be extra nice since you’ve never seen me play and I just want to make sure we’re even.” You said it in your sweetest tone, a pout on your lips and your eyes as wide and sparkling as a doe. “You can pick who plays for your side, but here are the ground rules: no professional players. No pre-professional, either. Friends, allies, and acquaintances only. Keep the playing field even. But, the caveat is that I get to do the same. Whichever side wins the game, wins the prize. Do we have a deal?”

Cole stood there for a second, nodding and thinking it over. “So you’re trying to win my compliance? Didn’t think you were the type to treat your livelihood like a game, but lucky for you, I am.”

It’s true, you hate that it had to come to this, but you held out your hand for him to shake, just for him to limply grab it. How he got this far in business, you’ll never know, because that handshake was terrible, yet binding for the young-ish heir. Oh wait, that’s right, he got this far because his parents did it for him. Bucky would never let that handshake fly, but maybe he would understand. This was a threat facing both of you, and according to the breadcrumbs you’d heard from Peter, it could be even worse on Bucky’s end. That, on top of what Cole said about waging war added to your concern.

“Deal.” Cole dropped your hand and you tucked it behind you back, ready to wash it as soon as you could get inside.

“Good. Now get off my property. I’ll meet you at the bar next week. Saturday. 6pm.”

He nodded with a wink and walked down the porch steps to his lifted truck, tripping on the gravel on the way there, not daring to look back to catch your snicker. You could see his huff when he slid into the front seat, after having jumped up into the tall vehicle. The engine roared as he drove away, creating ruts. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms as you walked back inside.

You heart was racing. The stakes were unbelievably high, but you didn’t have much of an option. Either win this bet and end it once and for all, or chance him trying to take things by force. So it wasn’t really much of a choice at all when you laid it out.

You had a few phone calls to make…

Next >

Bonus A/N: The grass is always greener, but it looks like both Bucky and Bee are standing on dead lawns.

Taglist: @mrsnikstan @scuzmunkie @openup-yourmind @vicmc624 @multifandomreader73 @hawkeyes-queen @blackhawkfanatic @morgthemagpie @buckybarnessimpp @calwitch @thesarcasmqueen-22 @ronearoundblindly

[rebel-at-heart713]

Rebel Plays D&D Part 1

I just started playing a Dungeons and Dragons Campaign, and thought I’d share what, happens.  I’ll do my best to relay the story as it happens.  It’s a long one so here we go. 

Players:

Me:  Ravawenys. A Half-Elf (Wood Elf) Rogue who has been living in the woods for her whole life.  Her elf mother was kicked out of her village for loving a human. Her father died when she was young, as he was human and didn’t live long.  Her mother died when a group of elves burned down her first hut.  Stats: Strength +1, Dex +3, Con +1, Int +1, Wis +2, Charisma +3,  (I got super lucky with my roles)

GM; (also playing a character as it’s the 2 of us) Taegen, a HighElf Cleric. (he never told me much of his background )Stats: Strength +1, Dex +1, Con +3, Int +1, Wisdom +3, Charisma -1.  (Yeah, he wasn’t as lucky, and as you read on, you’ll see he continues to roll horribly.  

He starts the scene as this.

Ravawenys is alone in her cabin, when 3 men approach and surround her house.  They think she’s a witch and one starts trying to barge in.  Rolling an acrobatics to try to time it so when he goes to slam into the door, he gets knocked off balance.  Able to kill him in one blow with her rapier with a advantage and sneak attack.  She fights the second man and it goes fairly well.  The third one who came in through the back who has already started using a torch to burn the home down. ��She kills the second but the third one being stronger causes more problems.  He misses a lot (I don’t know if I’m just lucky or if the GM is fudging the numbers so I don’t die 5 minutes into my first campaign.) Anyways, after several failed attempts at trying to hit this man, or just not doing much damage,

 I ask the GM 

Me: “How far has the fire spread”

GM: “Its fairly spread through the two rooms” Me: “Can I attempt to knock him into the fire?”

GM: “If you are going to trying to kick him to knock him off balance roll Dex”

I do so and that’s how I kill him.  

Ravawenys leaves her burning hut with the basic supplies and hides in the bushes with her boosted Stealth.  After traveling a bit she heals herself by doing a Nature and Medicine check to use some herbs to heal herself (Being a hermit background).  It’s a good thing she did, because very soon after she is attacked by a bear.  

I fail an animal handling and the bear attacks, doing some damage as I do some back.  This is when Taegen shows up and helps (?).  All Taegen actually does is get the bears attention so Ravawenys no longer gets attacked and can get occasion sneak attacks, but he never lands a hit, he absolutely rolls horribly.  After we (read I) kill the bear he tries talking to me. 

 Me: “I pretend I don’t speak common and only speak Elvish: (Completely forgetting he’s playing an Elf.)

GM: “Well I can speak Elvish, as I am an Elf.”

When suddenly more men show up.  I role acrobatics and stealth to climb and hide in a tree. Taegen lies (SOME HOW PASSING THE BLUFF with his -1 to Charisma) to them when they say they’re looking for a witch, saying the bear was dead when he got there, and they move on. 

 She hops down and mention to him very shortly that those men burned her house down, after he confirms she’s not a witch, he offers for her to join his quest so she can get some gold to get myself on her feet.  Ravawenys decide to join him on his werewolf hunt. Taegen heals her up as she had gotten damage from the bear.

 They walk until they find a cart with a mangled mule.  We both role Survival to try to find the trail to track the werewolf.  I role high (like a 19 or something so 20+ after a modifier) and he rolls like a 5, so Ravawenys lead the way until they find a cave.  We engage the werewolf, after somehow stealthing inside with him having a bad modifier due to heavy armor, with Ravawenys starting off with a bow attack. They fight until she is bitten, I roll Constitution and pass, but as the battle continues, she’s bitten again, and this time I fail the constitution save. 

 After the werewolf is killed Taegen heals Ravawenys injuries with heal wounds, not realizing she had gotten that badly bitten.  He has her cut off the head, as proof of the kill, and its to, brutal?, for him.  They go on back towards the town.  Sleeping for the night, I fail another Constitution, so her fever progresses.  Once they get to town and get paid, they head to a tavern, and she splits off to find a temple with a higher level cleric (Taegen is only level 1 So he doesn’t have remove curse).  

She finds the priest and he wants 800 gold to remove the curse, but she only has around 300.  She tries to convince him to do it for less but he won’t budge.     

(If anyone knows Dingo Doddle’s “Fool’s Gold”, it was literally that scene “fix.’ “That will be 12000 gold” “Fix for less”)  

Ravawenys finds Taegen again finally tells him that she needs more gold, about 500 more, because she needs a curse removal. Taegen finally realizes that she was bit and says that they can do another job, but they will have to wait until morning when Town Hall will open back up for notices.  

That night I fail another Constitution check, so her fever progresses more.  (I’m not sure how lycanthropy works in D&D or if he’s fudging it a little bit so, like early, my character is just dead in my first session ever.)      

The next morning they go to town hall and see a job to deal with a rat problem in a different tavern, along with 2 other’s he mentions. They decided to take it, thinking it will be the better paying quick job, as  they aren’t sure how long she has   After arriving at the tavern, they learn something is odd….

Ravawenys: “We’re here to deal with your rats.  Where are they so we can get rid of them”

Tavern owner: “No, no you give rats?” 

Ravawenys: “What?”

Tavern Owner: “You take rats, give to other tavern.”

Ravawenys: “What.  Wouldn’t you rather me just get rid of them?”

Tavern Owner: “They just come back.  You give rats to other tavern.”

Taegen: “I’m not doing that.”

Ravawenys: sighs “fine I need the gold”               

 Taegen goes waits outside, as he’s disappointed in her, as Ravawenys goes down to the basement and catches 6 rats.  After bringing them back upstairs, she tries to convince the tavern owner one last time to let her try to get rid of his rats. 

Tavern Owner: “No good protein.”

Ravawenys: “I, I’m sure you can find something else to eat.”

Tavern Owner: “No, I don’t eat them.”

Ravawenys: “I uh,”

Tavern Owner: “You have enough rats?”

Ravawenys: “I think 6 will be plenty to infect the other tavern.  They’ll breed.”

Tavern Owner: nods breed fast, why good protein.               

 Ravawenys leaves and lets Taegen know that she never planed on giving the other tavern rats, but releasing them in the woods. She also lets him know that the tavern owner was feeding his customers rats. They release the rats and go back. She convinces the tavern owner that she gave the rats to the other tavern, (Tavern Owner rolled a Nat 1 in his opposition to my bluff).  The Tavern Owner pays her 100 gold and says that she’ll get the rest of the payment in a few weeks once he’s sure that the rats have infested the other tavern and he starts getting some of those customers (which is why he wanted it infected).  

Now having 400 gold Ravawenys borrows 400 more from Taegen, as he had that much, and she gets her curse removed.  Taegen then offers her to join him adventuring and doing quests.  Having nothing else to do, but also feeling obligated to pay him back for the borrowed gold, she agrees.  

And that is how we ended the first session. 

Notable points:  I roll great this game, only failing animal handling, a couple hit fails in battle, and my constitution; while he rolls absolutely ridiculously bad, only ever passing the stealth on the werewolf and the bluff against the men, somehow, since he had a disadvantage on both,  

I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed playing it and I hope to update more as I play more.

[rebelbrat]

STAT RANKINGS.

(stolen from @lambfated)

BODY

height  ★★★★☆ (he’s massive but I’m taking 1 star off because he’s short by Galra standards)

strength ★★★★★  

dexterity ★★★★★ 

health  ★★★☆☆   (physically he’s in his prime, but I’m taking two stars off because his mental health is terrible)

energy: ★★★★★  

beauty ★★★★☆ (would be a 5 and even higher but i’m taking off one for his personality LMFAO)

style ★★★★★   

hygiene ★★★★★  (he’s a cat, what else do you expect?)

SKILLS

perception ★★★★★    

communication ★★★☆☆ (great at communicating when he wants to be, but very often chooses to be awful instead)

persuasion ★★★★★  

mediation   ★☆☆☆☆

literacy ★★★★★ (he can speak over 50 languages, what’s good?)

creativity ★★★★★  

cooking    ★★★★★   

tech savvy    ★★★★★    

combat ★★★★★++   (DON’T EVEN TRY IT.)

survival  ★★★★★  

stealth ★★★★★ 

street smarts    ★★★★★

seduction  ☆☆☆☆☆ (but only because he thinks he’s too ugly to seduce anyone)

luck   ★★★★☆ (pretty good I’d say, since he has so many gifts and privileges, but life has put him through the wringer

handling animals ★★★★☆   (his family has a herd of Navajo-churro sheep and he’s GREAT with cats)

pacifying children  ★★★★★ (he’s gotten really good at it after taking care of several abandoned Galra kits over the years.)

MIND

intelligence ★★★★★+++++ (there are not enough stars or plus signs in the world to represent his intelligence)

happiness     ★★☆☆☆      (he has every reason in life to be happy but he’s constantly tormented by mental illness which skews his perception)

spirituality ★★★★★   (doesn’t even lose points for constantly wanting to fight God because in Judaism wrestling with God is part of the process.)

confidence:   ★★★☆☆ (five stars and several plus signs’ worth of confidence in his intellectual ability, but not for his looks)

humor     ★★★★☆   (he could be a professional comedian but he gets minus one star for the fact that sometimes he uses his humor to hurt others)

anxiety   ★★★★★ (have you SEEN him angst about his looks?)  

patience   ★★★★☆  (not as much as canon lotor but for someone with such a big mouth as him he is strikingly willing to play the long game)

passion ★★★★★ 

nice ☆☆★☆☆ mean  (capable of great kindness, but also has a serious nasty streak)

brave     ★☆☆☆☆ cowardly (he’s the hero who saved the universe, what do you expect LOL)

pacifist ☆☆★☆☆ violent 

thoughtful    ☆☆★☆☆ impulsive (usually thinks before acting, but if you hit one of his hot button issues he goes on the offensive immediately)

agreeable ☆☆☆☆★ contrary (have you SEEN him argue with God????)

idealistic    ☆☆★☆☆      pragmatic

frugal    ☆☆☆☆★   big spender (not a big spender on physical material things nor particularly materialistic about them, but he’s spent millions buying premium currency and doing RMT--real money trade--on virtual pet website games, i shit you not)

extrovert     ☆★☆☆☆ introvert 

collected ☆☆☆★☆   wild 

SOCIAL

charisma ★★★★★ (he’s got trillions if not quadrillions of fangirls. that’s all that needs be said)

empathy  ★★★☆☆     

generosity   ★★★★★   

wealth      ★★★★★ 

honest   ★★★★★     (this is with friends, he has NEGATIVE stars for honesty when facing enemies) 

leader    ★★★★★ 

polite  ☆☆☆★☆ rude (usually only selectively rude but the amount of sass he spills out in these moments moves the star past the center)

political   ★★★★★+++++ (the man lives and breathes politics, breaks friendships based on politics, makes major life decisions around politics…)

BELIEFS

higher power      ★★★★★ (he fucking TALKS to higher powers)

fate/destiny   ☆☆☆☆☆  (nope! free will, baby!)

magic     ★★★★★  (he’s been witchy ever since before he could walk)

soulmates       ★★★☆☆   (loves the idea of it, but it pains him terribly because he thinks he will never deserve one)

good and evil      ★★★★★  

luck     ★★★★★ 

PRIORITIES

family      ★★★★★+++++ (except for his dad, negative 943253945 stars for his dad)   

friends     ★★★★★+++++  

love   ★★★☆☆ (more like he wants it to be 5 stars but he’s so consumed by the idea he’ll never find love that it’s actually a lower priority in practice

home   ★★★★★ (he would just like the drama in his home life to die down. please.)

health    ★☆☆☆☆     (the person i cut and pasted this from said “work until you die, and then just do it again!” and yeah that’s him)

praise        ★★★★★++++  (FEED HIS EGO)

justice     ★★★★★++++++ 

truth   ★★★★★  (he may lie to his enemies constantly but it’s always in pursuit of the truth of goodness)

power     ★★★☆☆

fame      ★★★★★

wealth      ☆☆☆☆☆   (he already knows what he needs to do to make boatloads of cash so he doesn’t really think about it or put too much emphasis on it)

others’ opinions   ★★★☆☆ (ordinarily this would be zero stars but he gets 1 star for having to give a shit about others’ opinions when negotiating with them and 2 stars for how much he cares whether people think he’s ugly)

[writing-in-april]

Dressed in Crimson

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Royalty AU)

Summary: Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open.

A/N: Guys I’m so excited for this one I really really loved writing it- it’s my fourth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April and it’s also written for @omgbigfluffwriting !!! I kinda immersed myself into this quite a bit- and it’s my longest oneshot I’ve ever written 🤭The specific historical period theyre in is not specified and the world that they’re in is entirely fictional and not based on any specific point in history- if you’ve ever watched Merlin that’s kinda the vibe I was thinking of just without the magic lol (please still ignore that the gif does not have an accurate clothing choice from Spencer I just wanted a good shot of his hair that I thought of while writing this) i feel like it’s becoming so obvious how much I love historical fiction lol 😂 I’d like to hear from you guys also so if you want to drop me an ask here! It can be about anything 🥰 hope y’all enjoy!!!

Warnings: 18+, Reader has a horrible Father, subtle hints about sexism, Classism, Period typical clothing, Reader and Spencer fight for a little bit, Smut, Dom Spencer, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Day dreaming about fucking in public, Spencer’s possessive as hell, Ignoring the potential consequences of a creampie

Main Masterlist Word count: 4.7k

My day started out like any other with my corset made of whalebone being cinched tightly around my figure with my chemise underneath of course. Every time the ends of the laces were pulled taught on my body I thought of the days where I could get away with not having this wretched piece of clothing cutting off my breath. Those days had been so long ago, when I was just a small child, almost so long ago that I had to strain my memory to recall it. It wasn’t even until I was done clutching my mother’s skirts before I started to be forced into the confines of the worst invention in history. I would have rather muck in the mud in pants like the men, unless there was a reason for me to actually want to wear a dress.

Today, I had chosen a crimson colored gown, one of my only favorites. The front of the bodice was adorned with embroidery, one embroidered with a glistening gold thread. The sleeves were long and ever so slightly off my shoulders, ending just at my wrist. It had been perfectly handcrafted just for me, a seamstress being hired to slave away at each detail with precision. If it had been up to my father the seamstress would have been paid little to nothing for this masterpiece, but you had your own coins stashed away from your allowance to give extra to anyone that gave you goods and services.

The dress was my favorite almost solely because of someone else’s appreciation for the lush fabric, no one needed to know about that though. I did like to look nice on certain occasions, but only special ones. There was no special occasion scheduled for me to have a reason for wearing it, well none that the greater majority of the court would know about.

Only my maid Emily knew what my excursion would be today, why I dressed up so nicely. There was no feasible way for me to hide my dalliances from her, especially the one I was about to go to as it required some higher levels of stealth to be able to evade my father’s guards.

His name was Spencer, one of my father’s stable boys. I loved him more than anything, definitely more than any potential match that was arranged for me.

I gifted him whatever I could without raising suspicion, though I often hid my purchases if someone asked by excusing them as more frivolous in nature, such as a new dress. Spencer had no real need for pretty things as he’d said before, except from myself- those were his past words not mine. And, he did express to me how much he loved the dress I was wearing right now, which was tied to how we had first met.

When I first met him I had been looking for a fabric in the market stalls. I hadn’t really wanted to, I was content with all the dresses that I owned right now, they had no ornament on them, just how I preferred. However, my father demanded I get something fancier for some sort of frivolous ball that was coming up that undoubtedly had no reason to take place besides bleeding everyone else dry.

I brushed hands with him for the first time as I was looking for the material I wanted, something just fancy enough to appease my father. The stall filled with fabrics bordered one that had stacks of books, I would have much preferred to be looking at that one. My hand had gotten close to the edge while I was inspecting a fabric and it had bumped into a man who was looking at one of the books.

When I had looked up to see who had brushed my hand I was met with frantic eyes filled with apology. His stuttered apology had covered my attempt to assure him that it was fine, it had taken me grabbing both of his hands to steady him for him to listen to my reassurance.

When he had introduced himself to me after I asked it flowed into a long conversation. I could have talked to him forever, I would be content to never talk to anyone else. For a stable boy he was exceptionally smart, which I learned was from his mother who had made sure he was educated even in poverty, specifically through having him read anything she could get her hands on. From then on our blossoming friendship had flourished, and had eventually developed into more.

I slung a shawl over my shoulders made out of a fabric of similar color to my gown and also grabbed a purse filled with coins with a smile due to my reminiscing . It wasn’t cold enough for one of my velvet cloaks just yet and most of the walk down to where Spencer was housed was indoors.

The walk from my rooms in the main part of the castle to the stables on the lower floor towards the East end was longer than I would have wanted. Truthfully, I wished I would not have to live in a castle at all, I’d rather live in the small house that Spencer lived. It was just past the castle grounds at the edge of the surrounding village adjacent to the stables so he did not have to walk far for work in the mornings.

My feet tiptoed down the corridors carefully, I was lucky that I had figured out to be somewhat light on my feet otherwise I’d be caught swiftly for sure. I passed by the rooms of most of the lords and ladies staying at court, I always wondered why some chose to stay here, it was positively suffocating here. The door I used to go outside was through the kitchen, that had a myriad of breakable things strewn about that I had to stealthily avoid. Luckily, I knocked nothing over that would have woken up the cooks who slept just a room over. Turning the handle of the door had to be a slow process so no one would hear the creak of the knob while it was turned, but I did successfully make it out with no disturbance.

Beginning the stretch of my journey that was outdoors was perhaps the most risky. Guards were stationed around the perimeter of the castle in greater numbers compared to the ones indoors which were only stationed by important rooms. I weaved my way through, in some aspects it was even more confusing than the inside of the castle. Hiding behind each of the pillars was the most effective way to avoid them, the construction of them making a series of small blind spots. I had just snuck behind one of the last ones when one of the guards nearest to me moved forward a little. I stopped breathing immediately, holding it tight in my chest while I plastered myself as close as I could to the back of the pillar. My nails dug into the stone of the pillar in fear, if I was ever to be found sneaking out at night or worse in the presence of Spencer, I would either never leave my rooms again or be whisked away into marriage even earlier than planned.

When the guard did not move to investigate further I let go of the breath I was holding, still making sure to let go of it slowly so he could not hear me. Moving swiftly forward after I had taken a breath was a bit of a challenge, my knees had gone weak with fear. I pushed myself to take each step even with the weakness in my knees, there was no way I could linger any longer.

Finally I was no longer walking on stone, I was walking on the muddy earth now. It was nice to feel the ground under my feet instead of the harsh stone, it told me that I was now only a handful of strides away from Spencer’s home.

The leaves littering the ground mixing with mud crunched under my feet even as I tip toed carefully. The guards may be in the distance now, but I didn’t feel keen on testing how good their hearing may potentially be.

Passing the stables was the last marker for my journey, then I would be able to see his home too. As I passed the sleeping horses by anticipation began to replace the fear inside me. It had been a while since I had been able to come see him, making me yearn for his touch even more.

His home came into view, even in the dead of night I could make it out if I squinted my eyes hard. My pace picked up exponentially when I landed my eyes on his humble abode. It was a quaint home, fallen into disrepair as he could not afford to fix it on the meager salary that my father paid him. The purse of gold that I had brought with me was exactly for that, the repairs. He would most likely protest the gift just like any other thing I had tried to gift him. From my experience the most effective way to get him to accept anything was to leave it there with no conversation about it. I think it made him feel less guilty even though in my opinion he was owed the money in the first place, no one should have to live in squalor when they did their job every day without question or complaint.

When I finally was at the entrance of his home I entered through the door swiftly, too impatient to wait or knock. Stress melted from my shoulders when I caught sight of him, hunched over one of the books I had given him, candles strewn around to give him enough light to read.

The candles he had lit to be able to read in the night illuminated us both with a glow. He would always compliment me whenever we found ourselves in similar lighting such as this, but in my opinion there was no rivalry. Each time the candle flickered it brightened up every highlight of him, letting me see his wild curls, brown eyes deeper than any others I had ever seen, and a body that I had no doubt was crafted to perfection illuminated in a beautiful glow.

I went to compliment him just as he always did with me, but I became mesmerized when he stood up, then moving his way closer to me.

“It is nice to see you, it feels like it’s been an eternity.” It may seem dramatic for him to say that it felt that long, but I echoed his sentiment willingly.

“It is nice to see you too, Spencer. I agree it’s been far too long.” I was sure it had been at least a full moon cycle since we had the pleasure of being alone with one another, our duties to my father keeping us separated.

It had been painful whenever I would go out for a ride on my horse, to see him hand me the reins of my mare and be unable to reach out to touch him. There had been one day, about a week ago, that I had let my hand brush against his own for a moment while he handed the reins to me. It was an innocent brush of a touch, that also had a barrier in the form of my leather gloves. To anyone else it had meant nothing, but to me and him, it meant everything.

His eyes were blown wide with desire, as I suspected mine were as well. We let ourselves take in the sight of each other for a minute longer before Spencer broke the silence with a request,

“Drop your shawl, so I may see you better.” A stable hand commanding someone of such a stature such as I would’ve seen him whipped if it was any other person before him. His boldness was not unexpected, it had taken a while for him to grow so comfortable with my company. In truth, he had been quite scared when I had first met him. It was perfectly understandable considering his employer was my father, who was not known for his kindness. And, even then after his fear had faded he still had a shy exterior for a while, it only had been lifted when we began to become extremely comfortable around each other. We were each other's only form of solace in this world, we could only escape our reality when we were together.

Instead of having malice in my voice like other nobles would I simply pulled the shawl more taught around my shoulders and teased, “Why should I?”

The expression on his face was one of the ones I loved seeing on his face the most, a sly smirk. He came closer to me, with careful steps as if he was waiting for the right moment to pounce. We were so close together when he stopped moving, but still not touching. He was playing a game with me, not touching until I obliged him. As he leaned in to speak into the shell of my ear he was careful with the way he tilted his body forward so I could only feel his breath on the small portion of my skin, “Because you like it when I look at you.”

My arms fell to my sides releasing my shawl to fall from my shoulders onto the floor at his words, as they rang true. I did want him to look at me and also, of course touch me.

“You wore your favorite dress.” He observed, still not quite touching. I didn't need to answer the statement he made with the thought in my mind ‘I wore it for you’ because I knew he had already figured that out. His observational skills were keenly honed in by his constant reading whenever he had the chance, often reading books that I had gifted to him. He even sometimes read well into the night, straining his eyes in the darkness when the candle was almost merely a wick. I had found that out the first- and sadly, only time I had the opportunity to stay overnight. Since then I had pushed him to get more rest as I knew how hard he was worked to the bone during the day, courtesy of my father.

His eyes were staring at my dress, pupils blown wide, his mind seemingly off in another world maybe thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me.

“Please, touch me.” I didn’t need to speak loud, only a soft whisper for him to hear me because of how close he already was to me. So close, yet so far.

He raised his large hands, calloused from working so hard day in and day out. My own hands were soft from the expensive creams I had been pampered with since I was just a small child. I liked his hands better, they showed the hard work he used everyday to cultivate his beautiful mind and body.

I subtly licked my lips in anticipation of his touch, wanting to feel every inch of his hand roaming my body, from the tips of his fingers to where his palm met his wrist.

His fingers then started to trace over the top of my corset, just a hair away from touching the swell of my breasts. My chest was rising and falling with each breath, each inhale pushing it slightly closer to his fingers. With each fall of my chest I felt the need to quickly let go of my breath, so I could once again inhale and be brought closer to his touch.

“Please touch me.” I repeated, breathless from forcing myself to breathe into his touch.

“I am touching you.” His fingers still did not move to touch my skin, only the crimson accented in gold. It was his turn to tease me now, I was at his mercy, ready and waiting for it.

I could beg again, though quite obviously I could not convince him with it. As he was running his fingers over the cloth for what felt like the millionth time, still not touching me, I teased him back instead of begging, “No you are touching my dress.”

A mere ghost of a touch from his fingers then floated across my skin. What should have calmed my heaving chest from my gasping breaths only served to make my breathing even heavier. The slight touch was still not enough, only making my desire for his hands to roam every inch of my body even more severe.

“Perhaps I should take your corset off, to help you breathe better.” He said, as if he read my exact thoughts.

“I like your thinking.”

I was then spun around so my back was pressed into his chest. It soothes my desire for his touch some, but we both had barriers of cloth preventing me from fully feeling him. I could feel some of the warmth that was hidden underneath his shirt, which was made up of a much billowing white linen that compared to his trousers.

If my skirts were not so large I wondered if I were to push back if my behind would come in contact with his cock and whether or not his desire would be as prominent as the slickness dampening the bottom layer I was wearing. I’d have to find a way to find a pair of trousers then, sometime soon, so I could try to grind into him at a later date. There was no doubt that we’d surely find ourselves in a similar position again.

As his hands started to undo the laces of my corset with care, despite both of our desperation, a thought slipped out from his lips that I’m sure he intended to keep to himself, “I wish I could call you mine in public.”

“My father would kill you!” The taste of my voice would have been bitter in anyone’s mouth, quickly spat out in the same way I said those words. Perhaps my quick anger to his innocent thought would be insane to some, most would probably consider it a sweet thought. However, he knew from previous conversations that when those sweet thoughts were expressed that all I could feel was a heavy sadness sitting inside me, instead of desire.

Tears clouded my vision, so much so that I did not see Spencer’s arms come around me to envelop me in an embrace. I flinched a bit at first, but then melted when I realized it was him. We held each other for a while as I sobbed softly into his billowy white shirt.

He stroked my shoulder with his large hands that I loved, but the corset he had not taken off fully yet was blocking me from feeling his touch the way I wanted.

“Take it off please.” I begged softly, I wanted to feel his skin on mine, and not just his lips or his hands. I wanted to feel every inch of him.

The laces of my corset were already half undone because of his previous attempt at getting it off of me. He finished the job, pulling the corset off of my body, tossing it down to the floor. He may have loved the dress, but he was showing me through his actions that he loved what was underneath more.

Turning me around was his next step, so he could properly kiss me. The pressure was soft at first, as if he was testing the waters to see how I would feel. Feeling his soft lips on my own just made me want to pull him in further, and I did so. My fingers tangled into his curls as the kiss devolved into pure passion, we were both throwing ourselves fully into it, trying to express our feelings nonverbally.

His own hands moved to cup my breasts as he backed me into the cot he slept on every night. I did not let him push me down on the bed so he was on top of me like normal, this time I wanted to be on top for a while. When I straddled his hips the first thing I felt was his cock straining in his pants. I unbuckled them so I could wrap my hands around his cock, I wanted to feel his thick and heavy length in my hands. Precum was already dripping down his hard cock as I pumped his length with my hands. My own arousal was dampening the underneath of the skirt I still had on. Spencer confirmed it himself when he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric to play with my pleasure spots. We both groaned as his fingers entered inside me while he rubbed circles into my swollen pearl.

My skirt was bunched up in his hands, pulling up all the way to the tops of my thighs. He soon got fed up with the skirt being in the way though and maneuvered me to shuck it off of me as fast as possible. Being bare before him did not make me wither in self consciousness, it made me lean into his touch even more.

He leaned up to kiss me again while I grabbed his length and restraddled him. I was definitely wet enough to have him enter me, my separation from him making me desperate, it had been so long since we had the chance to be together like this.

I then sunk down on his length slowly, it was for me to adjust to his size and to relish in the feeling of him sliding inside me. I stilled on top of him as the back of my thighs hit the top of his, he filled me with perfection. Spencer only let me be still for a little while before his hands gripped my hips and started to guide me to roll my hips. The pace I set- well Spencer was the one who set it, was slow and deep, I was languidly rolling my hips while he thrusted up into me at a similar pace.

My face twisted in pleasure as his thrusts became more powerful, still at the same pace but with more force behind them.

“Fuck- I want everyone to know that you’re mine!” It was the exact same thing he had spoken to me earlier that had sparked anger and melancholy inside me. This time it caused a spark of pleasure instead, making me think about him fucking me in front of everyone claiming me as his.

“My father would kill you.” This time when I said it it was gasped into his mouth with little to all anger disappeared from it.

My words made Spencer growl which was swallowed by a possessive kiss. He then flipped me over roughly, my back now pressed into the cot. A high pitched squeak had escaped my lips unintentionally in surprise, it was quickly changed into a moan when he entered me again. This time the pace did not start off slow as I did not need to adjust to him inside of me.

“I don’t care.” His speech was agitated as he pounded into me, holding my legs open with both hands spreading me out for him to see everything, “No matter what anyone says or does, you’re mine.”

Pleasure sparked through me at his possessive words, I grabbed desperately at the cotton sheets trying to hold onto something as my finish was fast approaching. When the cotton sheets were not enough of a stabilizer for me I lifted my hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him close.

“Come on I know you’re close, I’m close too baby.” My nails dug into his neck and back during the latter half of his sentence causing him to slightly wince. I knew he enjoyed it though because of the question that he groaned out next, “Can I cum inside you?”

Biting my lip hard was painful as I nodded my head in response to his question that had me falling over the edge. The consequences of him finishing inside me danced in the back of my head, I chose to ignore them as he did. I did not care as he filled me and I rode out my release, even if I was to somehow get pregnant because of our recklessness it did not matter. I’d gladly have his child, even if it meant I’d have to go on the run.

Instead of falling on top of me directly after finishing like I’ve heard most men do with their wives he gently removed himself from my entrance and laid down beside me on the cot. Bliss was mingling in the air between us, both unburdened by any of our problems that would become a reality as soon as I left for the night. For now we would just hold onto the bliss until it was cruelly snatched away from reality.

Spencer had a solution as always to our problems, and seemed to be thinking about the same thing I was with his next suggestion,

“Run away with me.” We were both covered in sweat that had cropped up from our activities, a contrast to the chilly air outside and in the castle. It was nice to feel warm every time I was in his arms, It was hard to resist being greedy and deciding to stay in his arms forever. It had crossed my mind more than once, but there was always something stopping me from going through with it fully. I opened my mouth to point out all the reasons why that would not be possible when he added, “And, before you say no I want to ask- what’s stopping you?”

His reasoning was sound, as it often was. My mouth opened and closed, struggling to find a reasoning before I accepted that he was right. The only potential downfall was my father’s forces searching everywhere to find me, but it would be worth it. We could also easily cross the border into nearby lands ruled by someone else that was not in alliance with him. I already felt lighter thinking about being free from the confines of the castle- and hopefully my corset. Though I would have to keep the crimson dress I wore today, even if I only wore it around him, It was his favorite and it symbolized the day that we met. He glanced over at me just as I did the same, looking right into his eyes as I spoke,“Alright.”

The light that sparked in his eyes made my heart soar, I could feel just from his gaze how ecstatic he was to spend his life with me. I didn’t need any words to know how much he loved me.

We basked for a moment in the presence of our love, Spencer broke the silence again when he started planning,“You need to go pack!”

I moved myself to sit up even though my limbs protested, wanting to sleep after our post coital bliss. A soft smile was exchanged between the two of us, “I’ll pack light, only the stuff I need.”

The purse of gold I had brought for him would no longer be used to fund his repairs, but to fund our life together. I climbed on top of him again leaning forward to capture him in a kiss that was much more chaste than the ones earlier in the night.

“I. love. you.” He whispered in between kisses making my eyes wet with tears. They weren’t born out of sadness, but of happiness that I had someone to love me as much as Spencer did.

“I love you too, I will see you soon.” I pulled myself away from his lips even though I did not want to, I then got up to leave reluctantly. Though it was easier than previous departures as I knew that it would be the last one that I would have to complete. My whole being was lighter and happier than I had ever felt before as I snuck back with a spring in my step. The only hint of what I was about to do, where I was about to go, was the mud stained at the hemline of my crimson dress.

Ask me anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (why wont tumblr let me tag you😭

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump

[troubatrain]

the times with a little secret...

two blurbs following want you to want me

read the rest here!

You were late.

Historically, as someone who got their period at the same time every month, it was concerning. You counted on your fingers, taking yourself back to a time Matthew was awfully convincing and you slipped up. You were sitting out of the same dock you kissed him for the first time on, Matthew’s stupid smirk and overgrown curls were really all it took to make you forget all about the fact that you weren’t using protection. You sigh, holding back tears and running your hands down your face.

Matthew wanted to be a father, but talking a bunch of shit when he was in a sappy mood and actually having a baby were two very different things. You’d been together for two years, and in that time you’d grown up together, but children just seemed like something you weren’t ready for yet. He had so much to work for still, and so did you.

And when you finally got that test, the little pink plus sign broke you. You were pregnant, and you were all alone in Chicago while Matthew got a few things ready before he headed to Calgary for the season. Matthew would call soon, just like he always did on his ride home from the rink.

Matthew knew something was wrong, just by the first crack in your voice when he answered. You’d been crying and he was going to figure out why. He scratched his face, eyes staring at the road in front of him while a part of him debated how quickly he could get to Chicago, “You alright pretty girl?”

“Yeah, everything’s just, fuck, fine,” You say, wiping away your tears and knocking that test to the floor. You weren’t convincing by any means, and Matthew saw through every facade you had, “I’m fine, really I just, uh got to go-”

Matthew opened his mouth to protest, push you a little hard to tell him what’s going on but before he had a chance you hung up the phone. He hit his steering wheel, frustrated that you weren’t telling him the truth when that was the promise you both made. He wondered if he’d done something wrong, but for once in his life Matthew really thought he was innocent.

So he drove the four hours.

It took him a little longer than expected, but Matthew knew what he had to do. He turned his car in the opposite direction of your house, heading up to Chicago without a second thought. It was seven by the time he’d gotten there, opening the door to an empty apartment and a pit in his stomach he couldn’t quite explain. He searched the place, looking for something to point him in the right direction as to why you were acting so weird on the phone.

You went running, you didn’t know what else to do so you just ran. If you kept going you wouldn’t have to face the reality that there was a person growing inside of you and your entire life was going to change. It didn’t stop your mind from racing, thinking about having to tell Matthew and how you were going to tell your families. He wouldn’t leave, you were almost sure of it, but what if he did? It was all you could think about when you walked back into your place, your eyes catching a familiar tuft of curls in the living room.

Matthew was standing there, the entire apartment filled up with bouquets of flowers because he couldn’t pick just one. He was happy, eyes brimming with tears when he finally saw you because this was going to be a moment he never forgets, “Hi.”

“Hi,” You breathe out, feet planted to the floor because you just couldn’t process this fast enough.

“I knew something was up, and then I found the test in the bathroom,” Matthew explains, stepping across to the room to stand in front of you. His hands were on your cheeks, his thumbs gently grazing over the skin, “I didn’t think it was possible to love you more, but babe, I think I do.”

“I’m really scared,” You whisper, letting Matthew wipe away your tears.

“I’m sure you are,” Matthew hums, pressing his lips to your forehead. You found out alone, Matthew was miles away and he knew you were probably freaking out, “I’m here now, we’re together, and it’s going to be okay.”

You smile at his optimism, the way no matter what Matthew would tell you that he would always be there and he’d go to the ends of the earth to fix whatever made you upset, “You sound so sure about this-”

“You’re the best teammate I’ve ever had,” Matthew was sure of himself when he said it, “And I don’t want to do this life thing with anyone else.”

“We’re having a baby,” You nod, Matthew’s hands falling to your stomach and resting there gently, “I’m happy you’re on my team.”

“I’m happy too, captain,” Matthew winks, playing into that same silly joke he always made about how he was just along for the ride, “Can we keep it a secret for now? Just our little family?”

Our little family. The words felt so right when you heard them from Matthew, your arms wrapping around his waist so you could press your head against his chest.

“Brady’s going to give you so much shit for knocking me up.”

“Oh I know, it’s going to be brutal, but worth every second Mama.”

***

Daddy’s hiding something from you.

You stop, turning your attention to your three year old who was sitting at the kitchen island playing with a Cheerio that was in his bowl. Max talked a lot for his age, and it came with a bad habit of repeating his father’s colorful language. Another thing was Matthew couldn’t sneak anything past you because of Max, who was just as nosey as you were, and Max ratted out his father every chance he had.

“What’s daddy hiding from me?” You ask, watching the way Max turned his attention to something else because he was in cahoots with his father and swore he wouldn’t tell a soul, “Maxy-”

“No, daddy told me not to tell you, not even for chocolate,” Max crosses his arms, standing his ground as much as a toddler could, “He said, hide this until I tell you Maxy, but don’t tell mommy.”

You furrow your brows, turning your head and wondering what the fuck your son was hiding that you hadn’t found yet. Your attention turned to the sound of your front door opening, Matthew barreling in post practice with a smile on his face like he wasn’t turning your son into a stealth liar and it would end up biting you both in the ass when he got older. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, sneaking behind Max and kissing him too. The two of them looked like twins, the same mop of curls on their heads while Max’s dimpled smile appeared the biggest when he was with his dad. His nineteen chain hung around his neck, Matthew’s gift to his son because you both wore it and he hoped Max would too. He was Matthew’s carbon copy, down to his ability to sneak things past you and cause chaos.

“Max was just telling me you’re hiding something from me,” You smirk, leaning against the counter and looking at Matthew, “Care to explain?”

“Dude,” Matthew scoffs, looking at Max, “I thought we agreed this was a no telling mommy deal?”

“Like when we get ice cream after my skating lessons?” Max asks, turning his head to his father. Matthew threw his head back, sighing at the fact that you definitely weren’t going to say yes now.

“I knew you weren’t hitting traffic every week,” You sigh, giving Matthew a look, “No bribes for hockey, we talked about this.”

And you did. Sometime before Max was born you both had a lengthy conversation about the whole sports thing. One professional athlete for a parent would be a lot for a kid, let alone two, and you both promised you wouldn’t push your own agendas too hard. Did you cheer a little louder at Max’s soccer games? Maybe. But, at least you didn’t bribe him with ice cream on the way home.

“Hey buddy, remember that thing I told you to hide? Can you get it?” Matthew ignores your lecture, knowing fully he wasn’t listening anyways because Max was made to skate. Matthew helped him down, smiling at the toddler who was bound for the playroom you put off cleaning, that’s why you didn’t find it.

“You’re not off the hook for the ice cream, why are you looking at me like that?” You stop, remembering the way Matthew looked at you in your apartment filled with flowers after he found out you were pregnant. It was the same look, blue eyes soft and full of admiration, “Matty-”

“I know we did this a little backwards, and I wanted to wait until your parents were in town to celebrate, but Max has got a mouth like yours,” Matthew starts stepping over to you and putting his hands on your cheeks, “But that’s my point, I love that Max is just like you because you’re the best person I’ve ever met in life. You’re the most amazing mother to our son, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the way you handle parenthood with more grace than I could ever have. And to me, god, you were everything I ever wanted when we were kids Y/N, you know that? You still are, and you’re always going to be. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to watch you shine, and take you home at the end of the night. I told my mom I’d marry you one day, I’m hoping you’ll give me the chance.”

By the time Matthew had finished his speech, in the middle of your kitchen in Calgary while Max’s cereal was thrown across the counter, your son had come back with a velvet box in his hand. He handed it to Matthew, climbing on Matthew’s leg because he had no clue while his father was down on one knee, but you knew, “Go ahead little dude, you can ask her now.”

“Mommy, will you marry daddy?” Max asks, giving you the very best smile your three year old could come up with. You could tell they practiced this, only solidifying the million reasons why you’d say yes.

“Yes,” You nod, covering your mouth while tears were brimming your eyes. You look at your two boys, who both looked at you like you put the sun in the sky just for them. Matthew let Max down, pressing a kiss to your lips like he wasn’t in the room.

“I love you,” Matthew breathes, pressing one more peck to your lips, “Wifey sounds good doesn’t it?”

“It does,” You hum, admiring the ring Matthew slipped on your left hand he left vacant for a little too long. Life was hectic for you, but he was tired of waiting for the right time when he knew he had the right girl the entire time. You pressed one more kiss to Matthew’s lips, hearing a protest from the little boy below you.

“Ew, that’s gross.”

“One day you’re gonna like a girl this much and Uncle Brady and I are going to make fun of you for it Maxy.”

[anika-ann]

Sneak a peek? 🍀

at His Lucky Charm pt.2 in making

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 650

Warnings: a spoonful of angst, Steve’s stealth suit 😌

“It does have an inside pocket,” he assured you, covering your hand with his palm gently with a sigh as he realized he had nothing to place into the pocket at the moment. “I just… I left the drawing in the old suit. I didn’t think they’d bring a new suit today and I got distracted-”

“What.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, yet it was shockingly cool, making Steve wince, guilt gnawing at his stomach when he saw your face fall even if it was about nothing serious.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll have to handle one mission without it, I suppose. But I’ll think of you as much as if I had it on me,” he promised, watching your lips press into a thin line.

If he was being honest with himself, he was confused by how strong your response to the rather unimportant revelation was.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t care about the drawing; he loved what it represented from the bottom of his heart, but…he didn’t think one mission without it would mean the end of the world. Your solemn expression, however, was telling him you didn’t share his opinion.

Your hand slipped from under his and he let it, eyebrows drawn together with bewilderment when you turned away from him as if to conceal whatever emotion must have shown on your face.

“Steve… you really shouldn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“You… you really should have the drawing with you,” you whispered, shifting only enough to let him see your profile, your hands fumbling – a habit of yours whenever you were nervous, one he had picked up on early on. “You need your luck.”

Perplexed and now genuinely concerned, Steve studied you carefully, mind racing. He felt as if he found himself in some alternate reality, as if someone had messed with his mind – or yours. He felt like a stranger who walked into someone else’s life, someone else’s conversation.

It was true that you were insistent about his luck from the beginning, superstitious perhaps to a fault. But usually, Steve thought it endearing; there was always something good-natured in the fuss, an element of humour in it.

He wouldn’t call this endearing; you seemed genuinely upset. And very serious.

“It’s just one mission-“ he tried to reason, shaking his head gingerly as he erased the distance you had put between the two of you, a hesitant smile playing in the corner of his lips still even if bewilderment was surely radiating of him in waves.

You turned to face him, not backing away from him, settling some of the unease that grew in his chest; but you didn’t smile back, throat working as you swallowed heavily.

“Please, get it with you. I don’t know how much it will complicate things for you, but I… I’d really feel much better if you had it with you. I know you think I’m being absurd right now, and I guess I am, but I- I—please, Steve. Just… please.”

Your voice cracked at the plea, tears turning sightly glassy and just like that, the air of oddity was gone. Anxiety replaced it, a suffocating feeling in his ribcage, somewhat familiar as his instincts made themselves known. Because this, you almost spilling tears over a drawing? Your imploring gaze boring into his as if you were asking him to wear armour in the first place?

Something was seriously wrong. There was an underlying issue and it made his stomach twist in trepidation.

“Is it really so important to you?” he asked, mindful of keeping his voice soft and steady despite his inner turmoil.

“Yes.”

Steve didn’t think one word could be so heavy and definite until now; if he ever wanted to speak you the three letters with such gravity, it would be in a completely different and much happier circumstances. And this was so not the time to think about that.

What on Earth was going on? What was he missing?

...good question, buddy, good question 🙁

It’s not all angsty, I promise 😘 Thanks for reading 🥰 (If you wanna join the tags, lemme know)

[raeynbowboi]

How to Play as Link in DnD 5e (2.0)

With the release of both Mythic Odysseys of Theros and now the new big expansion in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything, I figured now would be a good time to reexamine Link with the context of new subclasses, class features, and game mechanics that weren’t around the last time that I built him. While I won’t do this for every character I’ve built before, characters who have new options made available with these updates will get a new rebuild for 2021. If you want to compare and contrast this build to the original, I will link that build right [here].

The Spirit of the Hero

Link’s a Hylian and that’s just a fancy way of saying elf. His best racial options are either the High Elf, the Wood Elf, or the Half-Elf. Half-elf’s extra skills are tempting, but as Link is never given any parents or an ancestral family tree, we can’t really justify him as a half-elf. We’ll call him a Wood Elf for the extra +2 to his Dexterity and the +1 to his Wisdom as well as that woodsy vibe. But if you wanna go for a Half-Elf for the power build, I won’t tell anyone.

Link’s alignment is tricky. On the one hand, he is shown kneeling before the monarchy, defeating the forces of evil and darkness, and doing odd jobs to help the common people he comes across. However, he can also start forest fires, break into people’s houses, smash pots, steal people’s life savings or personal belongings, and attack the chicken population until they attack back. I’d wager he’s Neutral Good if for no other reason than his morality is highly dependent on the player.

My first choice for Link’s background would be the Folk Hero for Animal Handling and Survival. However, Link’s background is so inconsistent, it’s easier to just list out the skills he tends to have and tell you to pick a background that has those skills, or create your own: Animal Handling, Athletics, Investigation, Nature, Perception, or Survival. There’s a case to be made for other skills as well. Acrobatics works a little and his jumps did involve sick flips in Majora’s Mask, but Link doesn’t tend to balance or platform jump very often. Link can play instruments fine and danced in the Subrosian Dance Hall in Oracle of Seasons for Performance proficiency, but he’s usually playing instruments to activate effects, not to actually perform for a crowd. Link shows some Stealth skills in Breath of the Wild, but this hasn’t been a longstanding skill of his, so I didn’t lump it in with his main skill list.

Becoming a Hero

When it comes to his build, Link has made some use of spells in the past, but he’s nowhere near the spellcaster that Zelda and Ganondorf are. Link is definitely more of a martial fighter who augments himself with a wide arsenal of magical items. So when it comes to picking Link’s class, we have a few things to keep in mind.

BARD

Link is a talented young man, and he has had magical instruments in a few games over the years, as well as dancing in Subrosia, among other things. While I don’t subscribe to the idea of Link being a bard myself, I understand why people would come to this conclusion, as Link isn’t really bad at anything... except talking. And lying. And looking threatening. Or haggling. Yeah kind of hard to depict Link as a CHA caster who isn’t proficient in any CHA skill checks. 

Spirits (UA) This doesn’t fit for every Link, but especially for Breath of the Wild where Link gets help from the spirits of his fallen comrades, the flavor of calling on the dead works for Link. For a non-BotW example, maybe Link can tell stories of his past lives, and the memories he shares with each of them.

Valor This college has the downside of being built as a cheerleader, while Link really should be built for solo-combat since that’s how he approaches most fights. But Valor is better than Swords and also gives Link proficiency with martial weapons and shields, while Swords does not.

FIGHTER

While there are many martial classes, the Fighter differentiates itself by being the most down-to-earth option. It’s not beholden to rage, or smites, hunting, or sneaking. It is the simple skill of the blade, and this is a skill Link has in spades. From the earliest games, Link has been a master of the sword, the shield, and the bow.

Battle Master Link is a strategic fighter. He looks for weak spots, and he exploits them the best he can. Of all the fighter subclasses, none is more clever than the Battle Master. Its many maneuvers resembles the numerous sword techniques Link has learned especially in the later games. Even in Smash, Link showcases how clever he is by being able to combine his arrows with his bombs and shoot a bomb arrow. To my knowledge, none of the other characters can combine their abilities like this in Smash.

Cavalier The subclass is poorly named, and was better in its initial name as the Knight, as that is really what this subclass is. It is the idea of the knight in shining armor. They can also be flavored as bodyguards, a traveling sellsword, or castle guards. So Link does not have to be glued to Epona to make use of this subclass. The main reason to want this subclass is the Warding Maneuver, as giving Link the chance to either block or reduce all damage he takes is going to seriously improve how well he can tank a hit, and help keep him in a fight longer.

PALADIN

More than any other class, the Paladin actually stands for something. They fight for a value or a belief. They swear their life to a cause and are prepared to die fighting for it. Link works on a lore level as a Paladin. Especially when he’s dedicated multiple lifetimes to the same cause. Across every timeline and game over screen, Link has always returned and stood in defiance against whatever evil may come. 

Ancients This oath makes Link sworn to the forces of nature, such as the Great Fairy, and protecting the balance and harmony of the light, life, and love against death, decay, and darkness. The Ancients Paladin is all about protecting the balance in the world and valiantly opposing evil wherever it might arise. It also has a druidic or fey aspect, which kind of works for Link.

Crown With this vow, Link serves the Hyrulian Royal Family. This makes Link the princess’ personal knight, and an agent of lawfulness, order, and peacekeeping in the land. While 5e has backed away from typecasting Paladins as Lawful Good, this is probably the most Lawful subclass one could pick, as it places the authority of the royal family above all else.

Glory Instead of being sworn to the light or the law, the Glory Paladin is the harbinger of the goddesses. They are flavored as legendary heroes of destiny, possibly being demigods or the personal errand boys of the setting’s pantheon. This subclass is clearly focused on being a frontline warrior, and the features make Link a true force on the battlefield.

RANGER

Anyone who’s played Legend of Zelda knows that Link is very good at surviving. The games don’t tell you how to navigate the wilderness, Link just has to figure it out for himself. What’s more, Link may be willing to venture into the wilderness, but he’ll be hard-pressed to find many NPCs that far outside of settlements or cities. Yet what they fear, he thrives in. And it’s no wonder that this is the class most peole would assume for Link.

Hunter This conclave is the slayer of all things that threaten civilization. They can choose to be better at chipping away at one enemy, counter attack bigger monsters, or mow through hordes of minions with more ease by taking out multiple at a time. Especially at higher levels, this conclave excels at ripping apart Ganon’s forces with nary a golden curl out of place.

ROGUE

The rogue doesn’t need to be a wanted criminal on the lamb. They can be a clever fighter with a variety of skills and a knack for evasion. That speaks a lot more to Link’s skill set than one might assume at first glance. It’s not a perfect fit for Link, but it’s really not that inaccurate either.

Inquisitive This roguish archetype is defined by being clever in combat, looking for weak points to exploit. They’re also much more observant, making them better at discovering clues or secret passages, or telling when they’re being misled. At higher levels, their ability to look for weaknesses can even increase their sneak attack damage. This especially fits some of the older games where boss fights were focused on using items to exploit the dungeon boss’ weaknesses, rather than hacking away at their health bar. In these older titles, Link was less of a straight up warrior and more of a clever trickster pulling off strategic victories.

Scout The Scout Rogue has heavy Ranger vibes, as they get free expertise in Nature and Survival, enhanced mobility, the ability to disengage from fights more easily, and at higher levels become masters of ambushes. This fits well with Link’s sneakier sniper playstyle that can be done in Breath of the Wild, as Link can take out entire camps without ever being seen.

Thief While Link is not a standard cutpurse, Link is a treasure hunter, a dungeon delver, and the jokes about him robbing the people of Hyrule and breaking into people’s homes doesn’t exactly help. The thief also gets to use more magical items, allowing Link to use things such as enchanted instruments without being a bard.

WARLOCK

Link usually isn’t the hero of his own volition. He often starts his journey with Triforce of Courage, a source of power gifted by his patrons. It’s honestly a weak connection, but it loosely works, so I’m including it. 

Celestial While this subclass is geared toward serving something other than a god, I don’t see any reason why a Celestial Warlock couldn’t serve the Triple Goddesses of Hyrule or even Hylia/Zelda directly.

Hexblade The most obviously martial warlock option, this is a good choice if you want to incorporate Fi into your character.

Link’s Toy Chest

Hero’s Sword - Longsword (+1-3) Mirror Shield - Repulsion Shield Hero’s Bow - Oathbow Gale Boomerang - Storm Boomerang Fire Rod - Wand of Fireballs (requires spellcasting) Mastersword - Sword of Zariel, Holy Avenger Longsword* Hylian Shield - Shield of the Hidden Lord  Goddess Bow - Ephixis, Bow of Nylea Golden Gauntlets - Gauntlets of Ogre Power Zora Tunic - Cloak of the Manta Ray Pegasus Boots - Boots of Speed Hover Boots - Boots of Levitation Hook Shot - Rope of Climbing

SIDEKICKS

Sidekicks are a new edition from Tasha’s that let Link bring allies on his hero’s journey. Experts are skill monkeys who focus on Help actions, Spellcasters dip into the INT, WIS, or CHA spell lists, and Warriors are trained to fight and don’t have to talk, so they can be animals.

Epona - Defender Warrior Riding Horse Navi - Expert or Healer Spellcaster Sprite Sidon - Attacker Warrior Merfolk Sheik - Expert Noble (Elf) Wolf Link - Attacker Warrior Wolf

Theros Piety

The Piety System from Theros lets us be devout to a god and earn features from worshiping them. As far as I’m aware, this is an optional feature, and not every DM will make use of these, but if you’re able to, here’s a handy guide. These gods really stood out as the clear choices for Link to go with.

Iroas - God of Victory

Domains: War Virtues: Achieve a great victory, Overcome slim odds honorably, Defeat a foe in single combat, Perform a great feat of strength or skill Sins: Being a coward in battle, Beat an honorable foe through deceit, harm innocents Piety Bonus: +3 Learn Compelled Duel spell +10 Learn Crusader’s Mantle spell +25 For 1 minute, creatures cannot gain advantage on you +50 Increase STR or CHA by 2 to a max of 22

Keranos - God of Storms

Domains: Knowledge, Tempest Virtues: Solve a riddle or puzzle, defeat an unwise enemy, plan ahead for an upcoming challenge, build or restore a temple to Keranos Sins: Jeopardize others through foolishness, ignore a wise course of action, fail to plan for a challenge, give in to anger or self-destruction

Piety Bonus: +3 Add 1d6 lightning damage to melee attack up to INT mod turns. +10 Reroll a failed INT or WIS saving throw +25 Advantage on Initiative rolls +50 Increase INT or WIS by 2 to a max of 22

Nylea - Goddess of the Wild

Domains: Nature Virtues: Help any wild animal, stop those who hunt for sport or profit, win an archery competition, slay an aberration, fiend, or undead Sins: Kill an animal without reason, Dedicate a building to or make a sacrifice for any god (including Nylea), protect a city from a natural disaster

Piety Bonus: +3 Learn Hunter’s Mark +10 Learn Speak with Animals +25 Attacking creatures must pass DC 15 WIS save or change targets. +50 Increase DEX or WIS by 2 to a max of 22

Cunning Tactician

Battle Master Fighter (12) Inquisitive Rogue (8) Fighting Style: Dueling Maneuvers: Brace, Disarming Strike, Feinting Attack, Parry, Precision Attack, Riposte, Sweeping Attack Tools: Thieves’ Tools, Mason’s Tools

While Link is brave and strong, he is most defined by his clever mind and unorthodox solutions to boss fights. With this class split, Link has prioritized strategy and tactics over everything else. While it leaves him a little squishier, Link is still a very capable warrior. As a Battle Master, he got a free tool proficiency. Mason’s Tools allows Link to find secret passageways in stone walls, which most dungeons tend to be made of. On top of that, with his Feinting Attack, Link can give himself advantage, meaning he can use Sneak Attack even in a 1v1 fight, which fits his solo adventurer playstyle.

One-Man Army

Battle Master Fighter (12) Hunter Ranger (8) Fighting Style: Dueling, Archery Maneuvers: Brace, Disarming Strike, Feinting Attack, Parry, Precision Attack, Riposte, Sweeping Attack Hunter’s Prey: Colossus Slayer, Multiattack Defense Tools: Mason’s Tools

I used this build once in a level 10 campaign. 6 levels of Fighter, 4 levels of Ranger with a +2 Longsword, and let me tell you something. This build creamed the competition, which was the other PCs at the table, who were also built as level 10 characters. Link nearly defeated his first opponent in a single round, dealing around 70 damage between his four attacks. When I say this is Link’s “power” build, I mean it. I didn’t even sweat when an adult blue dragon showed up after the tournament ended, that’s how much faith I had in Link’s ability to fight. I honestly forgot to even use Link’s battle maneuvers, he was just dealing so much damage that it slipped my mind. You could swap Battle Master for Cavalier, but for me, the Battle Master is more accurate to Link’s favor of techniques over basic hack-and-slash.

RANGER SPELLS

1 Absorb Elements, Ensnaring Strike, Hunter’s Mark 2 Cordon of Arrows, Healing Spirit

The Hero of Hyrule

Battle Master Fighter (12) Glory Paladin (8) Fighting Style: Archery, Dueling Maneuvers: Brace, Disarming Strike, Feinting Attack, Parry, Precision Attack, Riposte, Sweeping Attack Tools: Mason’s Tools

As a Glory Paladin, Link is driven by a desire to be a legendary hero, and at least in the UA version, the Glory Paladin served the gods, as Link does. Like the two builds above, Link balances the brute might of the Glory Paladin with the tactile diversity of the Battle Master.

PALADIN SPELLS

1 Cure Wounds, Divine Favor, Guiding Bolt, Heroism, Protection from Evil and Good, Searing Smite, Thunderous Smite, Wrathful Smite 2 Branding Smite, Enhance Ability, Find Steed, Magic Weapon, Warding Bond

Oaths and Promises

Glory Paladin (12) Celestial Warlock (8) Fighting Style: Dueling Pact: Blade Invocations: Eldritch Smite, Improved Pact Weapon, Maddening Hex, Relentless Hex

The builds from here on are more for the flavor than necessarily Link’s character. As a Blade Pact Paladock, Link becomes a CHA-focused martial with some extra spell slots that turn his smiting sword strikes into a bokoblin slurry machine. This build focuses Link more as a servant of the gods than anything else. Just make sure he has the Hex spell, but you can replace Maddening Hex with Agonizing Blast if you want to use the Master Sword laser beam at full potential.

PALADIN SPELLS

1 Divine Favor, Guiding Bolt, Heroism, Protection from Evil and Good, Searing Smite, Thunderous Smite, Wrathful Smite 2 Branding Smite, Enhance Ability, Find Steed, Magic Weapon, Warding Bond 3 Blinding Smite, Crusader’s Mantle, Elemental Weapon, Haste, Protection from Energy

WARLOCK SPELLS

C Blade Ward, Booming Blade, Sword Burst 1 Armor of Agathys, Cure Wounds, Hex 2 Lesser Restoration, Misty Step, Shatter 3 Spirit Shroud, Summon Fey 4 Galder’s Speedy Courier

To Serve and Protect

Battle Master Fighter (12) Crown Paladin (8) Fighting Style: Dueling, Interception Maneuvers:  Bait and Switch, Brace, Disarming Strike, Goading Strike, Parry, Riposte, Sweeping Attack Tools: Mason’s Tools

Link is Zelda’s knight, bodyguard, and servant. So this build prioritizes features that makes Link the loyal emissary of the Princess of Hyrule. As such, this build changes Link’s role to be more of a defender to the princess than a solo hero. This build assumes that the princess or someone else who needs to be protected is joining Link on his adventure.

PALADIN SPELLS

1 Command, Cure Wounds, Divine Favor, Heroism, Compelled Duel, Searing Smite, Thunderous Smite, Wrathful Smite 2 Branding Smite, Find Steed, Warding Bond, Zone of Truth

After all is said and done, I hope I gave everyone a lot to work with. Of course my suggestions are not law, and if nothing else, I hope it gives you an idea of how you want to build him. Last time I built Link, I gave one set build for him, but I still laid out other options. Recently though, I’ve been trying to show multiple builds at the end of my build posts to offer a wider idea of what building a character can look like. Happy 2021 everyone, and let’s hope this year goes smoother.

[persephone-plasmids]

Nuka-World

A Deacon X Sole Fanfic

[AO3]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Nuka-World

“I guess I’m just confused about why they dedicated an entire section of the park to their space theme. Why not just a ride?” MacCready asked, eyeing the Star Port tower in the Galactic Zone at Nuka-World.

“To get the youth excited about space exploration,” Danse answered in his usual serious tone. “They wanted to recruit potential cadets young.”

MacCready pulled a face at this explanation. “Do kids really like space, though?”

“Seriously, MacCready?” Sole asked. “You have a kid. You should know this.”

Deacon listened to the group theorizing over the chosen aesthetic of Nuka-World while he slid a Cappy shirt over his head with a grin.

“I know Dez sent us here to recover the kidnapped synth, but all this free merch is going to be incredibly distracting,” Deacon said.

At his words, Sole’s eyes grew large. “Where did you get that? I want one!”

Deacon nodded to the merchandise rack behind him and smiled as Sole scampered over with pure joy in her eyes. Danse watched with slight disapproval while MacCready continued examining the Star Port in confusion.

Bringing the tin can and the grumpy sniper along hadn’t been Deacon’s idea. Dez had said they’d need more than just Deacon and Sole on this mission since they had so much ground to cover. When Deacon had suggested Tinker Tom, Dez had just laughed and told Sole to ask some of “her people”. Whatever that meant.

Apparently, Sole’s “people” were a self-hating synth boy scout and MacCready, whose skill Deacon respected, but he still didn’t like the idea of someone honing in on his mission.

“This entire park seems wildly unsafe for children,” Danse said, his thick brows knitted together in a line.

“Nuka Cola has always been a bit shady,” MacCready agreed. “Makes sense that their park wouldn’t be quite as kid-friendly as it should be.”

“All right, I’m ready to get this show on the road,” Sole said, walking out from the back room of the merchandise area with a Cappy shirt and cowboy hat.

“No fair! I didn’t see the hat!” Deacon whined. “I would have taken it for myself.”

“We can share custody,” Sole promised with a grin in Deacon’s direction.

Deacon screwed up his face as he thought this over. “Fine, but I get weekends and holidays.”

“Deal.” Sole gave him one of her smiles that reminded him why he needed to keep his distance from her emotionally. One of the smiles that made him want all the things he couldn’t have.

He ignored it.

“You’re both wrong,” MacCready said, snatching the hat quickly from Sole’s head and placing it on his own. “This baby’s coming with me.”

Sole laughed at this, making Deacon feel that familiar pang of jealousy again. He prided himself on making Sole laugh. He didn’t love that someone else was currently taking over his favorite job.

“You two are going to Dry Rock Gulch, I guess it’s only fair that you get the cowboy hat, RJ,” Sole said, straightening the hat on MacCready’s head with a familiarity that made Deacon feel much less in control of himself than he normally was.

“We should get going before it gets too dark,” Deacon said with a forced smile. “We don’t want Danse rusting from the evening dew.”

“Negative, soldier, “ Danse said. “My power armour doesn’t rust.”

“At ease,” Deacon responded with a little salute at the former Brotherhood of Steel Paladin. “Try to enjoy yourself a little Danse. Despite what they told you in the Brotherhood, it won’t actually kill you.”

Danse gave him a look like he wasn’t amused by his joke before turning away and heading towards Dry Rock Gulch with MacCready.

“Geez,” Deacon said. “Never send that guy on a stealth mission. I swear we’ll be able to hear his power armor clomping around through the whole park.”

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing we already cleared out those raiders, huh?”

“No thanks to the tin can and grumpy pants over there,” Deacon said, now smiling at Sole.

“That one was a Deacon and Sole special,” Sole answered. “We didn’t need any outside assistance.”

Deacon nodded at this, watching Sole for a moment too long before realizing he was being weird. He realized that a lot around Sole. He had to constantly remind himself how he acted around people who didn’t make him feel the way Sole did. It was exhausting.

“I say we head over to that old junkyard. If I was a Synth in hiding, that’s where I’d go,” Sole said.

“You got it, boss,” Deacon answered, following her as she began walking.

The two walked in silence for a long time. Deacon guessed that Sole was thinking about the mission. Deacon, of course, was having another mini existential crisis regarding Sole. But he was also attempting to lie to himself about his feelings, which turned it into a whole thing. He could be a very convincing liar.

When the two rounded an old abandoned building, Deacon was shocked to see a crowd right in front of them.

“Whoa, hold up,” Deacon said, placing his arm straight out to stop Sole from walking.

It was too little too late though. The group of people in space suits standing had clearly seen them. How had Deacon missed them? They were literally a handful of weirdos in space suits.

Sole had distracted him with her very existence again. This was why he had to stop letting himself explore any potential feelings for her. They just got in the way of their missions. They made him sloppy. And sloppy could very well mean “dead” in this situation.

“Greetings,” one of the space-suit-clad people said, taking a step forward.

Deacon placed one hand behind his back where he kept a gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans. The other hand was wrapped tightly around Sole’s arm, keeping her in a safe position slightly behind him.

“Listen, we’re looking for information on--” Sole began, but the woman who appeared to be the leader of the odd group before them interrupted her.

“Are you here to help us get the spaceship up and running?” the woman asked. Her slightly crazed eyes were wide and bloodshot.

Sole furrowed her brow and looked at Deacon who was still trying to understand what he’d just heard.

“The great power above told us they would send someone soon. You, my weary traveler, must be the one to help us rebuild our spacecraft.”

“No,” Sole said slowly. “We’re just here too--” but again she was interrupted, this time by Deacon’s hand placed clumsily over her lips.

“Wait just… shush for a second,” he whispered with the widest grin she’d ever seen. “This is amazing.” He looked like a kid on Christmas. “Yes, my fair… uh… lady. We were sent from the head honcho in the stars to come offer our support for your interstellar travels.”

Deacon’s voice had adopted a grand tone and he released his concealed gun to instead gesture widely at the group in front of him.

“Excellent news, kind sir,” the woman said. “I am Dara. Come. We don’t have much time. Follow us.”

“Lead the way my most excellent and esteemed priestess,” Deacon said.

Sole looked over at the spy incredulously, mouthing a quick, “What are you doing?” to him.

She wasn’t sure if Deacon hadn’t understood her question or if he was just willfully ignoring her, because he simply clapped his hands together and mouthed back, “I know, right?”

The space-suit-clad group led them through the old junkyard to a red metal object that looked an awful lot like an old carnival ride. It was supposed to look like a UFO, but anyone could see it wasn’t any kind of actual aircraft.

“Ah yes, a fine specimen indeed,” Deacon said when they approached the ride. His voice was still serious as he spoke, though Sole knew him well enough to hear the pure glee behind it. “And what, pray tell, can we do to get this up and running for you again?”

“We have the fusion cells we need right here,” Dara said. “But we don’t know how to install them. If you can get our craft up and running, I know we’ll be on our way to our higher forms soon enough.”

“You’ll be on your way somewhere,” Sole scoffed under her breath, obviously not enjoying this nearly as much as Deacon.

“Well then step inside and get comfortable,” Deacon said with a grin. “I’ll get these fusion cores installed… uh… posthaste.”

Sole snorted at this, to which Deacon elbowed her. He didn’t want her giving him away just because she found him amusing.

Dara led the group of space cadets into the UFO ride and shut the door behind her, leaving Sole and Deacon alone.

“Okay, what in the actual world is going on?” Sole asked incredulously.

“I know! This is seriously amazing,” Deacon said, barely able to contain his joy. “These people actually think this is a spaceship!”

“I’m pretty sure this is a Gravitron,” Sole said. “They had them at the local carnival every year before the war. I used to love this ride.”

Sole’s eyes adopted that distant look they got whenever she talked about her time before the Vault-Tec incident. It made him feel sad for her, before he selfishly realized that if Vault-Tec hadn’t frozen her, he never would have met her.

“Will it be safe for me to fix it for them?” Deacon asked, Sole. He wanted to mess with the space cult, not kill them.

“They might get a bit motion sick,” Sole began. “But they should be fine.”

At her words, Deacon’s face adopted a mischievous grin that made Sole’s cheeks flush. “Excellent.”

Deacon installed the fusion cores Dara had given him without much effort before holding his hand out to Sole.

“Shall we?”

Sole let a grin spread across her full lips, taking Deacon’s hand in her own. “I can handle this ride, but I’m not sure you really understand what you’re in for.”

“You don’t think I could handle your ride?” Deacon asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively at her.

Sole took a step closer to Deacon, leaning close to him so that her lips were against his ear. “I know you couldn’t handle my ride, stealth boy.”

Deacon shivered involuntarily at her words and the feeling of her breath against his ear, but as quickly as the moment had happened, it passed. Sole pulled Deacon into the UFO ride with her, leaving him with a lingering mental image that he’d have to examine more thoroughly when he was alone later.

“This impeccably dressed harbinger of your more superior forms has successfully repaired your vessel,” Sole announced loudly, holding up Deacon’s hand. She looked over at him with a grin that set his heart on overdrive. “Not only was he able to repair your vessel, but he’s also promised to personally make sure his work is beyond reproach by coming along with you.”

“The star angel speaks the truth,” Deacon said, making Sole snort laugh again, though she was a bit better about covering this one up. “Sole, if you’ll do the honors.”

“Everybody up against the wall,” Sole said, watching as the space cult obeyed. “Deacon? Up against the wall?”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to say that to me,” He said with a grin.

Sole just rolled her eyes and pointed at the wall, waiting for him to oblige. When everyone was in position, she took her place in the middle of the metal room and flipped the switch.

In an instant, the ride began to hum as the floor started to vibrate. At first, nothing moved and Deacon worried he hadn’t actually managed to fix the ride. But as the humming grew louder, the room began to spin.

Sole stayed in place in the center of the room and Deacon tried to keep his eyes on her, but as the rotations became quicker and quicker, he had to close his eyes. The force of the rotating ride crushed him against the padded wall of the room and he had to press his lips together to keep from getting sick. Just when he thought he couldn��t take it anymore, the ride began to slow down until it eventually stopped.

When Deacon opened his eyes, the world was still spinning. Sole was watching him as if waiting for him to speak to the cult, but he couldn’t form a single thought.

“The mission has been a success,” Sole finally said, seeing that Deacon was completely useless at the moment. “Your craft has been repaired and will be ready for your final voyage once your preparations are complete.”

“Bless you,” Dara said, looking at Sole. “Bless both of you.”

Without another word, Dara and the other cultists left the UFO, leaving Deacon clutching the wall and breathing heavily. In an instant, Sole was beside him. She supported him as Deacon tilted his head down.

“Told you you couldn’t handle this ride,” Sole said, her voice lined with amusement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Deacon said. “I feel fantastic. Think I might go run a marathon with Hancock later.”

Sole placed her hand on Deacon’s cheek gently, lifting his eyes to hers. He still felt sick, but the more she touched him, the less he seemed to notice the motion sickness.

“Hey lightweight, what do you think Danse and MacCready will say when they find out an old carnival ride floored you?”

“That question is irrelevant because if you tell them I’ll just deny everything,” he responded. “And of the two of us, who’s the better liar?”

Deacon was grinning at Sole again, but she didn’t smile back. Instead she was watching him curiously, her eyes roaming his face. He was confused by her expression before he realized just how clear she looked to him. Clearer than normal.

Panicked, Deacon brought his hand up to his face to find his sunglasses missing. He’d always been good at putting up walls between himself and everyone else, but he had a hard time doing that with Sole. The sunglasses were the only way he could keep some semblance of distance from her. Without them, he worried she’d see right through him. See who he really was. See how he really felt about her.

Deacon looked around himself for the sunglasses before Sole held them up wordlessly.

“You win, Charmer,” Deacon said with a nervous laugh. “Time to give them back now.”

Deacon reached out for the glasses but Sole held them behind her back with a wicked grin.

“I don’t know that I want you to put them back on. I’m enjoying finally seeing you,” she said, her eyes seeming to bore into his soul.

“No one wants to see this hot mess, trust me,” Deacon said, reaching for the sunglasses but failing to get them. All he managed to do was somehow get even closer to Sole.

“How did I not realize your eyes are blue?” Sole asked, her voice soft. “They’re… stunning.” She instantly blushed at her own words but didn’t back down. And she still didn’t give Deacon his sunglasses back. “They’re not just blue… they’re like… ice blue.”

“Must be all the surgery,” Deacon joked, even though his voice sounded flat.

The truth was, Deacon changed his appearance all the time. But his eyes? His eyes were his own. Always had been. They were the one thing he didn’t change about himself. So to have Sole admiring them in such a personal way felt… amazing.

And dangerous.

Sole bit her lip as she watched him and Deacon swallowed hard. “Why don’t you want anyone to see you?” she asked.

He wanted to tell her that he was scared they wouldn't like what was left after all the lies were stripped away. But he didn’t say that. Instead he said, “Because I don’t want them to fall in love with my beautiful face. It just wouldn’t be fair to destroy some unsuspecting wastelander like that.”

At his words, Sole laughed softly, just like he hoped she would. If she was laughing then she wasn’t asking him questions that hit too close to home for him.

“I mean, now that you’ve seen the full effect of my icy blue gaze, you surely must understand that I wield an ungodly amount of power.”

“I really don’t know how you manage to fit yourself and your ego into your tiny sleeping quarters in the Railroad,” Sole said with a roll of her eyes.

“There’s enough room,” Deacon said, his voice now teasing. “More than enough room if you ever want to join the two of us.”

And that was it. The truth of the matter. Deacon could flirt with Sole all day long if it was all a big joke. But if he ever told her that he’d dreamed about what it would be like to wake up next to her, he’d lose the small amount of control he still pretended to have in this partnership. He couldn’t tell her that he longed for the casual and familiar touches of two people who trusted each other so completely that their physical contact was expected and normal.

“Do you really want me to take you up on that offer?” Sole asked, a challenge in her eyes.

Deacon still hadn’t learned that he couldn’t tease her about their flirtation for too long. She’d always make it real. And as Deacon knew, real was dangerous.

“Or should I just hold onto these sunglasses for you?”

Deacon leaned forward, sliding his arms around Sole’s waist. He hated himself for the fact that she actually closed her eyes as he got closer to her, obviously expecting him to make a move. But instead, he grabbed the sunglasses that she hid behind her back before pulling away from her with a forced grin.

“Got em,” he said.

Sole opened her eyes, and when Deacon saw just how much disappointment they held, his heart broke. When he heard Sole try to cover up her disappointment with a joke the way he always did, his heart broke even more.

“Well then I guess it’s just you and your ego in your bed tonight,” she said. “Let’s go find Danse and MacCready to see if they’ve had any luck locating the Synth.”

“Oh right, we’ve got an actual reason to be here,” Deacon said, quickly putting his sunglasses back on and feeling immensely more comfortable behind his wall of protection.

“We actually have two reasons to be here,” Sole said as she walked towards the door of the UFO ride. “We need to find the Synth, but we also need to go to the fun house in Kiddie Kingdom.”

“Did I miss that part of the briefing, Charmer?” Deacon asked, following Sole to the bright junkyard outside.

“Dez probably just forgot to tell us how important it is that we go to the funhouse,” Sole said “But you and I are professionals. We have to check everything thoroughly.”

Sole raised her eyebrows at Deacon as she walked away and Deacon was left wondering how Dez ever could have thought it was a good idea to send Sole and himself to an amusement park together.

They’d never get anything done.

[Part 4]

Based on the time my OC and Deacon ran into that crazy cult in Nuka-World :P

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 101

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,620ish

Summary: The team hunts down Ultron and takes a hit.

Y/N was in her room, getting ready, when a knock sounded at the door. She had her back turned to it but could hear it open.

“I swear, Tony,” she grumbled. “If you and Steve—“ She stopped when she turned around and saw Natasha, arms crossed and leaning up against the wall. “Oh. Hey, Nat. What can I help you with?”

“You could start by telling me what’s going on,” she responded.

“I don’t know what—“

“Cut the crap, Y/N. Something’s going on. Steve and Bruce told me about why you can create portals. The Tesseract. That makes me want to assume that you also have some sort of connection with the scepter.” Y/N closed her eyes and sighed. “You do. You have a connection.” Nat stepped closer to Y/N. “What is it? Why do these things want you?”

“I don’t know, Nat. Honestly. I’m just as confused as you are… I’ve been told I’m being saved for something.”

“Saved?”

“Something is going to happen and for some reason I’ll be an instrumental part in it all. But I don’t know when or what that is.”

“Your connection with the scepter? Did it… Did it give you any abilities?”

“Yes… I can… I can read and control minds.” Natasha stayed silent for a few moments, simply nodding as she took everything in. “Nat, you have to understand that I’m not making any of this up and that I didn’t ask for this.” Y/N began to panic, the weight of everything suddenly crashing down on her. “I didn’t want this,” Y/N cried. “I didn’t want this life. Any of it.” 

Nat rushed over and pulled Y/N into her arms. “I know you didn’t… I know…”

“I don’t know what to do, Nat… I… I don’t want this…”

“Shh… I know, Y/N/N. I know.”

“And Steve and Tony, they don’t understand. They don’t want me to come because of it. But I have to. It’s my job to make it right.”

“It’s not your job.” Nat pulled back, making sure Y/N was looking at her in the eyes. “It’s our job. And since when have you let Stark and your brother stop you? I will support your decision to come.”

“Thanks, Nat.” Y/N pulled her back in for a hug. “I’ve missed you. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch like we used to.”

“It’s on us both. Nothing like a end-of-the-world scenario to get friends back together.”

~~~

Y/N appeared in the quinjet as they were crossing the Atlantic. She stayed in a corner, avoiding Steve and Tony. And every time one of them tried to get near her, Natasha would step in their way, giving them a threatening look.

The salvage yard was the home of many rusted ships. On of them housing Ulysses Klaue, the man the team was searching for. As the team entered one of the ships, the realized Ultron was there as well.

“—understand. Don’t compare me with Stark!” Ultron spat, kicking Ulysses Klaue down the stairs. “It’s a thing with me. Stark is… He’s a sickness.”

“Ahh, junior,” Tony commented as him, Thor, and Steve appeared. Bruce stayed back in the quinjet and Clint, Natasha, and Y/N snuck onto the other levels. “You’re gonna break your old man’s heart.”

“It I have to.”

“We don’t have to break anything,” Thor stated.

“Clearly you've never made an omelet.”

“He beat me by one second,” Tony commented.

“Ah, this is funny, Mr. Stark,” a young man appeared. From what Y/N could remember, his name was Pietro Maximoff. Him and his Twin, Wanda who showed up beside him, volunteered to be experimented on. “It’s what, comfortable? Like old times?”

“This was never my life.”

“You two can still walk away from this,” Steve told them.

“Oh, we will,” Wanda responded.

“I know you’ve suffered.”

“Uuughh!” Ultron groaned. “Captain America. God's righteous man, pretending you could live without a war. I can't physically throw up in my mouth, but—“

“If you believe in peace, then let us keep it,” Thor stated.

“I think you’re confusing peace with quiet.”

“Yuh-huh. What's the Vibranium for?” Tony asked.

“I'm glad you asked that, because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan!”

Suddenly, Ultron’s own Iron Legion bots came out of no where and started attacking. Ulysses men also began fighting them. The team, obviously, fought back.

“Thor! Status?” Steve called over the comms.

“The girl tried to warp my mind,” Thor answered. “Take special care, I doubt a human could keep her at bay. Fortunately, I am mighty…” He trailed off though.

Y/N was suddenly on high alert, realizing that Wanda was using her powers on the team. The young woman appeared in front of her, a red glow in her eyes and coming from her hands.

“We can help you, Wanda,” Y/N said. “We don’t want to hurt you.”

“You already have,” Wanda replied.

Wanda threw her arms towards Y/N, the red glow rushing towards her. Not being able to dodge it, the red entered Y/N’s mind. Shocked that that was even possible, Y/N stumbled back onto the floor. Suddenly, her vision was filled with darkness. Slowly, six spots, each a different color, appeared. The Stones. They floated around until a gold gauntlet appeared and each of the stones found its place on it. The fingers of the gauntlet snapped. Y/N looked around as dust flew around her and the horrified cries of many filled her ears. 

“This is what you must stop,” a low, gravely voice stated as the dust and cries continued. “What you must fix… This is what you were saved for.”

“But I don’t want to!” Y/N yelled, in her vision and out loud. “I don’t want to! Take it back!”

“Whoever’s left standing, we gotta move,” Clint shouted, trying to get someone’s attention. “Guys?

Tony was busy trying to get the Hulk under control, who had made an appearance thanks to Wanda. Clint was the only one left in the ship, who hadn’t been affected by Wanda.

“Natasha, I could really use a lullaby,” Tony called over the comms.

“Well, that's not gonna happen. Not for a while,” Clint responded, kneeling in front of Nat who was still stuck in her vision. “The whole team is down, you got no back up here.”

“No! Take it back!” Y/N screamed. Clint snapped his head towards the sound.

“Y/N?!” Clint called, now extremely worried.

“Y/N?” Tony repeated. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll handle the team, Stark. You get Hulk.”

“Please! You should have let me die!” Y/N continued. “Just let me die!”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as her vision continued to show dust and screams. Clint hurried, with Natasha in his arms, to the quinjet. He brought it closer to the ship before going back in again. Steve basically woke up from his vision as Clint was rushing up the stairs.

“I don’t want this!” Y/N screamed again.

“What—what’s going on?” Steve said to Clint, trying to gain some of his senses back.

“The witch got into everyone’s minds,” Clint responded. “Everyone’s been pretty quiet except—“

“PLEASE!” Y/N yelled. 

Steve was up with Clint as soon as he heard his sister. They ran towards her screams. They found her in a corner, trembling, and crying.

“Y/N,” Steve called, crouching down in front of her. “Y/N, it’s Steve.”

“I don’t want that burden,” Y/N whimpered. “Please take it away.”

“I’ll get Thor,” Clint stated. “You got this?”

Steve nodded, keeping his eyes on his sister, before Clint took off to find Thor. Steve held out his hands to try and calm his sister. But he honestly had no idea how to. Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t there.

“I’m going to pick you up now,” Steve stated, hoping that Y/N could hear him. He picked her up and over his shoulder.

“No!” She screamed, hitting and kicking Steve. “Let me go! Fine! Fine! I’ll do it! Just don’t let them all die! Please don’t let them die!”

“Y/N, I need you to wake up.” Steve headed to the quinjet. “I don’t know what she did to you. But it can’t be good.”

Y/N fought the whole way to the quinjet. Steve had to strap her into a seat for her safety. He sat down on the ground beside her, worn out and hurt by what he had been forced to see himself. When Tony and Bruce returned, Bruce refused to talk or even look at anyone. But honestly, no one was talking to or looking each other in the eye. Y/N was still trembling and whimpering, clearly still wrapped in whatever Wanda had shown her. (Or really, the Stones.) Her eyes were still glazed over when Tony approached her. He couldn’t stop the hurt expression that formed when she flinched away from him. Clint got them into the air while Tony called Maria.

“The news is loving you guys. Nobody else is,” Maria stated. “There's been no official call for Banner's arrest, but it's in the air.”

“Stark Relief Foundation?” Tony asked.

“Already on the scene. How's the team?”

“Everyone’s…" He looked back at the team, spread out around the quinjet. “We took a hit. We'll shake it off.”

“Well for now I'd stay in stealth mode, and stay away from here.”

“So, run and hide?”

“Until we can find Ultron, I don't have a lot else to offer.”

“Neither do we.” Tony switched off the monitor, ending the call. He sighed as he got up and made his way over to Clint. “Hey, you wanna switch out?”

“No, I'm good,” Clint answered.  “If you wanna get some kip, check on your girl, now's a good time, cause we're still a few hours out.”

“A few hours from where?”

“A safe house.”

Tony nodded, confused, but decided to let Clint be. He turned around and headed over to his girlfriend. As he sat down beside her, he noticed that her eyes were closed. Her breathes where uneasy and there was sweat forming on her brow.

“What did she do to you?” He whispered, wiping off her forehead.

Tony unbuckled Y/N, carefully, and pulled her into him. He couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not, but it didn’t matter as long as she wasn’t in distress anymore. He held a kiss to her temple.

“It’s going to be okay…” He whispered. “We’re going to be okay…”

~~~

Clint landed the quinjet in a field. He grabbed Natasha, helping her out of the quinjet, as the others followed behind. Y/N was barely aware of her surroundings as Tony helped her out of the quinjet. Clint led them towards a large farmhouse. 

“What is this place?” Thor asked.

“Safe house,” Tony answered.

“Let’s hope,” Clint responded. He opened the door, the others still following. “Honey? I’m home.” A very pregnant Laura Barton walked din from the kitchen. “Hi. Company. Sorry, I didn’t call ahead.”

“Hey,” she replied, kissing Clint.

“This is an agent of some kind,” Tony reasoned, holding Y/N tightly to him as he spoke to Thor. Y/N smirked, glad to have been in on the secret.

“Gentlemen, this is Laura,” Clint introduced.

“I know all your names,” she smiled. 

The men of the team just stared, with Tony using his free hand to wave awkwardly. Footsteps could be heard coming closer.

“Ooh, incoming,” Clint smiled. Cooper and Lila Barton ran into the room.

“Dad!” Lila squealed.

“I see her!” Clint picked up Lila and kissed the top of Cooper’s head. “Hey, buddy! How you guys doing?”

“These are… smaller agents,” Tony continued, trying to make sense of it all.

“Look at your face! Oh, my goodness!”

“Did you bring Auntie Nat?” Lila asked.

“Why don’t you hug her and find out?” Nat smiled. Lila rushed towards her aunt, who picked her up.

"Sorry for barging in on you,” Steve awkwardly apologized.

“Yeah, we would have called ahead,” Tony added, “but we were busy having no idea that you existed.”

“Yeah, well, Fury helped me set this up when I joined,” Clint replied. “He kept it off SHIELD's files, I'd like to keep it that way. I figure it's a good place to lay low.”

“Mr. Stark, you can take Y/N to an upstairs bedroom,” Laura said. “There’s some clothes from the last time she visited.”

“Thanks, Laura,” Y/N said softly.

“Wait…?” Tony looked down at Y/N. “You knew about this?”

“She needed a place to stay and recover after you threw her out a few years back,” Clint replied. 

“I—“

“Tony,” Y/N called, calmly and softly, “right now is really not the time.”

“Right. I’ll just… we’ll just head upstairs.”

~~~

Y/N let the hot water burn her skin as she stood still underneath the shower head. She couldn’t get the imagines and sounds from the vision out of her head. A soft knock on the bathroom door took her away from her thoughts.

“Honey?” Tony’s worried voice come from the other side. “You okay in there?”

“Yeah,” she responded. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Y/N finished cleaning herself up and got changed before she exited the bathroom. Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for her.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“You’re good, honey,” he responded, standing up to meet her. “You o—“

“Don’t ask me if I’m okay. I’m… I’m not. But I really don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

“Okay, okay. Is there anything I can do?” Y/N shook her head. Tony nodded. “Come here.” She willingly came into his arms. “I love you. And whatever she showed you wasn’t real. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“I’m going to go take a shower. Will you be okay being alone for a second?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m just going to lay down and try to get some rest.”

“Good plan.” Tony kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~~~

“Thor didn’t say where he was going for answers?” Tony asked as him and Steve were outside chopping wood.

Laura and Y/N were sitting on the porch with Lila and Clint was fixing up the porch with Cooper. Y/N was watching and listening to her brother and boyfriend.

“Sometimes my teammates don't tell me things,” Steve answered Tony. “I was kind of hoping Thor would be the exception.”

“Yeah, give him time,” Tony suggested. “We don't know what the Maximoff kid showed him.”

“Earth's Mightiest Heroes… Pulled us apart like cotton candy.”

“Seems like you walked away all right.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I don't trust a guy without a dark side.” Tony swung his axe down. “Call me old fashioned.”

“Well let's just say you haven't seen it yet.”

“You know Ultron is trying to tear us apart, right?”

“Well I guess you'd know. Whether you tell us is a bit of a question.”

“Banner and I were doing research.”

“That would affect the team.”

“That would end the team. Isn't that the mission? Isn't that the "why" we fight, so we can end the fight, so we get to go home?!” 

Steve torn a log in half with his bare hands as a phone beeped beside Y/N. She watched as Laura looked down at her phone and stood up. Laura made her way down the porch steps and towards the two men chopping wood.

“Every time someone tries to win a war before it starts, innocent people die,” Steve continued. “Every time.”

“I’m sorry,” Laura interrupted. “Mr. Stark, uh, Clint said you wouldn't mind, but, our tractor, it doesn't seem to want to start at all. I thought maybe you might—”

“Yeah, I’ll give her a kick,” Tony replied. “Don’t take from my pile.”

Tony sent Y/N a smile as he walked over to the barn. Laura came back up the steps and sat next to Y/N.

“What’d you send him to do?” Y/N asked.

“To talk to someone,” Laura answered.

“Talk to someone? Who?”

“Fury.”

~~~

Y/N went back inside not too long later. Still tired from the vision and trying to process everything. She sat on the couch and looked around the room.

“Hey,” Steve greeted, coming to sit beside her, “you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N shrugged. “I miss this…” She looked around. “The domestic life.”

“We haven’t had that in a very long time.”

“I know.” Tony entered the house, pausing behind the wall as he herd the twins talking. “Doesn’t mean I can’t miss it.”

“Did you want this, with Bucky? A home? A family?”

Y/N sighed. “I did. And for a moment there I thought I was going to have it.”

“Do you want it with, Stark?”

“I… I don’t know… I don’t know if he wants it.”

“Doesn’t that worry you? That you don’t know if he sees a future with you?”

“We’re both too busy saving the world. I don’t know if we’ll get there.”

Tony didn’t know what to think. Y/N didn’t know if she wanted a future with him? She doubting that he wanted it with her? Yes, they never really talked about it, but… he was hoping that she was planning on being with him forever. Tony was planning on being with her. 

“I honestly don’t know how you’re with him,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Especially after—“

“You don’t understand. He was shown something down there, just like the rest of us have seen. He was doing it to protect the world, to protect us. So that we could have a chance at a future.”

“Still, he should have told us.”

“Yes, he should have. But that doesn’t mean it’s all his fault.”

~~~

After dinner, the team was gathered around, listening to Fury talk.

“Ultron took you folks out of play to buy himself time,” Fury stated. “My contacts all say he's building something. The amount of Vibranium he made off with, I don't think it's just one thing.”

“What about Ultron himself?” Steve asked.

“Ah. He's easy to track, he's everywhere. Guy's multiplying faster than a Catholic rabbit. Still doesn't help us get an angle on any of his plans though.”

“He still going after launch codes?” Tony asked, throwing darts in the room over.

“Yes, he is, but he's not making any headway.”

“I cracked the Pentagon's firewall in high school on a dare.”

“Yeah, well, I contacted our friends at the NEXUS about that.”

“NEXUS?” Steve repeated.

“It's the world internet hub in Oslo,” Bruce explained, “every byte of data flows through there, fastest access on earth.”

“So what’d they say?” Clint asked.

“He's fixated on the missiles,” Fury answered, “but the codes are constantly being changed.”

“By whom?” Y/N wondered.

Clint quickly threw a dart across the room. It narrowly missed Tony’s face and hit the center of the dart board he was playing on. Tony looked at Clint with a ‘did you really just do that’ expression. Clint just shrugged it off.

“Parties unknown,” Fury said.

“Do we have an ally?” Nat asked.

“Ultron's got an enemy, that's not the same thing. Still, I'd pay folding money to know who it is.”

“I might need to visit Oslo, find our ‘unknown’,” Tony said.

“Well, this is good times, boss,” Nat said, “but I was kind of hoping when I saw you, you'd have more than that.”

“I do, I have you,” Fury responded. “Back in the day, I had eyes everywhere, ears everywhere else. Here we all are, back on earth, with nothing but our wit, and our will to save the world. So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard.”

“Steve doesn’t like that kind of talk.”

“You know what, Romanoff?” Steve responded as she smiled mischievously at him.

“So what does he want?” Fury asked.

“To become better. Better than us,” Y/N answered. “He keeps building bodies.”

“Person bodies,” Tony said. “The human form is inefficient, biologically speaking, we're outmoded. But he keeps coming back to it.”

“When you two programmed him to protect the human race, you amazingly failed,” Nat commented.

“They don't need to be protected, they need to evolve,” Bruce remembered Ultron’s speech. “Ultron's going to evolve.” 

“How?” Fury asked.

“Has anyone been in contact with Helen Cho?”

~~~

“I’m going with Steve to Korea,” Y/N told Tony as soon as they were alone. “Ultron most likely as the scepter there and I need to be the one to handle it.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” Tony sighed.

“Are you going to try and stop me?”

“No….”

Y/N furrowed her brows. Tony seemed down, more down than usual. “What’s wrong, Tony?”

“Nothing.”

“Tony…” Y/N reached up and forced him to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I want a future with you.”

“W-what? Where’s this coming from?”

“I might have heard you and Cap talking—“

“Tony. I—”

“I didn’t mean too! But it got me thinking, I haven’t allowed myself to express my desire for a future with you because I’ve been… well, uh… for a lack of a better word… terrified… Still am… But I want it. I want a future with you.”

“Oh, Tony.” Y/N pulled his face down, kissing Tony lovingly. “I want one with you too.”

“You do?”

“I do. But we can’t talk anymore about it, right now. We need to get Ultron settled with. I can’t get my hopes up in case anything happens.”

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask. 

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #7: Anytime: Mirio Togata

In which you give Mirio something that he really, really deserves. 

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) oral sex (m-receiving, mentions of f-receiving), fluff (FLUFF), aged up characters, public showers, strong language, mirio being absolutely adorable, offensively early visits to the gym

Notes: We’ve made it to the end of the first week of Kinktober! Thank you to everyone who’s been following, liking, and reading my work! I’ve had a lot of fun creating and sharing these stories for you so far.

I’ve got a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it college au coming atcha! Today’s prompt was ‘Blowjob,’ and I’m not gonna lie- I’m excited to put this one into the world. 😂 It’s cuuuuuute, okay?

Kinktober Masterlist

“The coast is clear.”

“Good. Close the door.”

You’re in stealth mode as you creep into the showers, sticking close enough to Mirio that your nose is practically buried between his shoulder blades. Even if the locker room doors are only twenty feet from where you’d been standing, you’ve got your fingers laced through his.

You’re not quite ready to break contact with him, considering what you’ve got planned.

It was his idea to start working out in the mornings again. You used to come in the evenings, after both of you were finished with class and schoolwork. But the only problem was that everybody else on the entire goddamned college campus- students, profs, anyone with a heartbeat- had the same idea.

Sick of crowded treadmills and waiting in line for weight benches, you came when the doors opened at six-thirty every morning. Some other gyms might be crowded at that time. But this was a college gym. And no college student in their right mind got out of bed before nine.

Needless to say, you almost always have the place to yourselves. You love working out with Mirio. Not only is he the best coach- encouraging, challenging, but never judgemental- but you get to watch him, too.

Something tells you that he’s clued into the fact that you like a little eye candy with your early morning workout, since he’s started showing up with less clothing every time. He’s got a habit of wearing those loose-fitting athletic shorts these days that don’t hide a damned thing.

And you’re pretty fucking sure he’s not wearing anything underneath them, either.

Your friends like to tease you about the sunny disposition your boyfriend always carries. They seem to think that the ability to seem happy all the time and a tendency toward dirty thoughts are mutually exclusive traits.

You don’t like to kiss and tell. But as soon as both of you had been dating long enough to get over yourselves, you’d discovered that Mirio Togata was a shameless- no, ruthless- flirt.

He closes the door softly behind him. His reflexes are still on high alert from sneaking past the desk attendant, even though she’d looked about as close to sleeping with her eyes open as one can possibly get. Apparently, she doesn’t get paid enough to stop you.

That doesn’t stop either of you from wanting the door locked, though. With deft fingers, Mirio slips the latch into place.

Then you’re on him.

“W-wait, babe, I-I thought we were gonna shower first-“

He stutters between peals of laughter as you grab him by the arms and hustle him toward the tile wall, pushing his shoulders up against it and kissing your way down his neck.

“Can’t wait,” you mumble, sliding unabashedly onto your knees in front of him. “Wanna taste you.”

You’ve been thinking about doing this all morning. It all started over at the bench press when, instead of spotting him, you were spotting the half-mast he’d been sporting through his basketball shorts. Apparently, exertion did that to a guy.

Exertion. Arousal. You don’t care, as long as it’s in your mouth.

Mirio’s definitely caught off guard by your forwardness, but he’s not stopping you as you shove his shorts down. You’re right, by the way- he’s not wearing anything underneath. Goddamn tease. He knows what he’s getting himself into.

He’s only half-hard but you can’t wait to get your mouth on him, flushed and salty. You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and his hips stutter.

“P-princess,” he grunts as hard lines of muscle stand out along the ridges of his tensing thighs. You can’t wait any longer, leaning in and licking a stripe up the underside of his cock before you swallow him down.

You’ve never felt a reaction like his before.

The urgency of this entire situation was born out of a conversation that came last night. The two of you had been curled in his bed, spent and breathless. He’d gone down on you, eating you out until you were numb and boneless, and you’d mentioned something after the fact about returning the favour.

“I’d never make you,” he’d chuckled bashfully, “but if you ever wanted to, I’d love to know what it feels like.”

You sprang out of bed so fast that you bashed your shin against the frame. The bruise is getting nasty now, almost ten hours later.

Nobody in the history of Mirio Togata had ever thought that he had a cock worth sucking. When you’d tried to ask him why, he’d just blushed and insisted that none of the girls he’d ever dated seemed interested. And he wasn’t interested in making them do something they didn’t enjoy, so… here he was. Twenty years old and he’s never had his cock sucked.

You’d promised to rectify the issue. At a later date, when the two of you had regained feeling in your limbs again.

Cue early morning workout. Scandalously underdressed boyfriend. Conveniently abandoned locker room. Delightfully cool tile wall.

Now it’s Mirio’s turn to go boneless with his back to it. One of his hands crawls into the base of your ponytail as his hips jerk hesitantly into your mouth.

“Ah! Nngh, I’m sorry,” he pants, but you’re prepared for this. You purse your lips and groan around him, letting him shiver through the vibrations before you pull your mouth off him with a wet little pop.

“I can take you, baby,” you promise breathlessly, casting your eyes up just long enough to see what a brilliant shade of scarlet his ears and cheeks are turning. For a man with so much confidence in bed, it’s nice to see him fall apart every so often. He’s not afraid to give up his composure to you.

Just another thing you love so much about him.

You take him again- only this time, you draw it out, suckling playfully at the head until he’s whimpering and flexing his hand in your hair. And when you’re almost certain he can’t handle any more you start into a rhythm, bobbing back and forth while your tongue works him and your hand picks up the slack.

He’s too big to swallow completely, but… it’s not like he’ll have anything to compare this feeling to.

“Oh god, Princess, I- your mouth…”

You suck and lick and slurp away, letting it get sloppy. Loving the way he seems overstimulated already, giving tender little cries as his body shakes and shudders with every purse of your lips.

“Look at you,” he gasps, and you realize that he’s looking down at you for the first time. That seems to double the tension in his body, and you slide your free hand up the front of one bare thigh, finding the weight of his balls and giving them a gentle tug.

He shouts, throwing his head into the tiles with a dull little thud. You feel his knees give a little.

“Oh god,” comes his voice again, pinched and desperate. “Aw, hell, oh, man, oh, fu-huck, I-I’m…”

He doesn’t give you too much warning, but you’re ready for him anyway as his body seizes. He jerks involuntarily at your hair and his hips buck forward, fucking your face as his cock twitches.

He cries out and tries to pull back, but you grab his ass, pulling his hips forcefully forward and holding him there. He takes the hint and leans into it, giving a cry of your name as he empties himself down your throat.

When he’s finished and going limp in your mouth you pull away and he collapses against the wall, sliding down it until his bare ass is on the floor with his shorts still around his knees.

“So?” You hum, sliding up next to him. You help him tug his shorts up and get himself situated again, and he runs a hand over the back of his neck, which has also gone crimson.

“You’re…” he starts, then trails off. When he looks up at you it’s with the most bashful, loving grin you’ve ever seen. If he could have hearts in his eyes, he would.

“You’re incredible.”

You laugh. You can’t help it. You lean in and kiss his cheek, then nuzzle your nose against the corner of his jaw.

“Nah,” you reply. “You just really, really deserved that.”

He doesn’t say anything right away. A thoughtful expression crosses his face for a moment. Then he speaks up.

“So you’ll do it again sometime?”

You’re still giggling, but it’s only because you’re falling in love with him all over again. You put your arms around him and squeeze.

“Any time.”

He leans over and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair.

“Good.”

In a single, sweeping motion, he grabs you by the thighs and hauls you into his arms, hoisting himself into his feet. He’s making for one of the benches, and you can tell by the look in his eye- not hearts anymore, something else- that you’re in for it now.

He lays you out on the narrow bench and gets down on his knees beside you. Bashful, overstimulated Mirio is nowhere to be found as he smirks, bringing his mouth to your ear and giving you a tender growl.

“My turn.”

[thebakingqueen5]

KW 2021: Missing Scenes

Day 3 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Missing Scenes!

This was arguably the most obvious way to go about this prompt but I wanted to write it anyways because if there’s one missing scene that should’ve been included in the series, it’s something to bridge the gap between EIP and Sozin’s Comet.

Links: AO3 | FF.net

Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 3: Missing Scenes. Bridging the gap between the Ember Island Players and Sozin’s Comet Series Finale.

Word Count: 2.8K

It was another cool night on Ember Island. The moon was beginning to rise and was lighting up the corridors and central courtyard while the Gaang got some food to replenish themselves after a long day of training and preparations.

Sozin’s Comet was a mere few days away, and tensions were higher than ever. Earlier that day, the true plans of the Firelord had been revealed: that he was planning to use the comet to wipe out the Earth Kingdom entirely, which meant that Aang had to face him on the doomsday itself at the latest. It was a challenge he felt none too prepared for.

He thought that he was going to get more time to master his earth and firebending, but with this newest revelation, it was pretty clear this was not the case, and the stress was beginning to get to the young airbender.

The practice battle against Toph posing as the Melonlord had Aang’s stomach tied in knots. Before today, the final fight seemed so distant, almost inconceivable, something that he would only have to do when he was absolutely ready for it. But now? It was coming, and it was coming fast, and Aang had no idea how to handle it.

The boy hadn’t really thought about what he would do when he finally faced Ozai. He assumed that by the time he mastered all four elements, the solution would be obvious, but it wasn’t. Everyone else seemed convinced that killing him was the only option, but that went against everything Aang had been taught by the monks. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like him. How was he supposed to do something so drastic when he didn’t even believe in it? There had to be another way, something he was missing, there just had to be!

“I have a surprise for everyone!” Katara called as she walked into the clearing, immediately snapping Aang out of his intense thoughts. He briefly glanced up from the plate of food in front of him as everyone’s eyes turned to the crimson-clad waterbender, a rolled up tan scroll in her hands.

“I knew it!” Toph exclaimed. She grinned devilishly as she looked up from her wooden bowl of rice. “You did have a secret thing with Haru!”

Sokka, Suki, Zuko, and Katara all blinked at her in confusion and gave the blind earthbender a bewildered look, unsure of where her supposed epiphany came from.

“Uh…” the waterbender responded slowly as the others returned to their meals. “No. I was looking for cooking pots in the attic and I found this.”

She unfurled the parchment in her hands, making a slight swish noise.

“Look at baby Zuko,” she cooed. “Isn’t he cute?”

The paper in her hands was in fact a painting showing a happy, bright-eyed cherub of a baby laughing as he played on the beach. He looked to be quite young, having only a tiny topknot on his head and a mere two teeth in his small mouth while a tiny shovel and sandcastle lay on the ground next to him.

Everyone except for Zuko laughed and “aww”d at the adorable picture while the firebender stared at the others gravely.

“Oh, lighten up,” Katara admonished when she noticed his lack of response. “I’m just teasing.”

“That’s not me,” the firebender said, opening his eyes to look at her. “It’s my father.”

The Gaang looked on in shock as Katara rolled the scroll back up. They were all wondering the same thing- how could such a precious baby have become the most cruel man on the planet?

“But he looks so sweet and innocent,” Suki frowned, her voice faltering.

“Well, that sweet little kid grew up to be a monster,” Zuko spat. “And the worst father in the history of fathers.”

“But he’s still a human being.”

Everyone turned to look at the source of the voice. Aang’s back was hunched over his tray of rice and beans a few feet away from them, and a deep frown rested on his normally cheery features.

“You’re going to defend him?” Zuko questioned.

“No,” Aang clarified. “I agree with you.”

“Firelord Ozai is a horrible person, and the world would probably be better off without him,” he said as he stood up and turned around to face them, “but there’s gotta be another way.”

“Like what?” Zuko deadpanned.

“I don’t know,” Aang shrugged. He turned his gaze down and away from the others, eyebrows tilted upwards in concentration, when an idea came to him.

“Maybe we can make some big pots of glue, and then I can use gluebending to stick his arms and legs together so he can’t bend anymore!” he said excitedly.

Zuko smiled sarcastically. “Yeah, then you can show him his baby pictures, and all those happy memories will make him good again.”

“Do you really think that would work?” Aang asked eagerly, oblivious to Sokka and Suki snickering behind the firebender.

“No!”

Aang sighed heavily and hung his head in defeat. He needed to find another solution, think out of the box somehow. He stared at the ground for a few moments in exasperation before hopping down the stone steps to pace under a hanging orange lamp in the courtyard.

“This goes against everything I learned from the monks,” he said, walking back and forth. “I can’t just go around wiping out people I don’t like!”

“Sure you can!” Sokka interjected from the sidelines. “You’re the Avatar! If it’s in the name of keeping balance I’m pretty sure the universe will forgive you.”

Aang’s arms and slumped upper body shook violently with rage.

“This isn’t a joke, Sokka!” he shouted. “None of you understand the position I’m in!”

How could they, after all? They hadn’t been at the Air Temples a century ago. They hadn’t been raised by the Nomads to be peaceful and treat every life as sacred. He was the last of his people, and somehow none of them could see that. To them it was the simplest decision in the world- just get it over with and save the world, but it wasn’t to Aang. It wasn’t as cut and dry as that.

“Aang, we do understand,” the waterbender frowned. “It’s just-”

“Just what, Katara? What?”

“We’re trying to help!” she said angrily, her temper also rising.

“Then, when you figure out a way for me to beat the Fire Lord without taking his life, I'd love to hear it!”

Aang raised his arms in frustration with the last few words and stormed off in the direction of his room, feet stomping loudly against the stone floor.

“Aang, don’t walk away from this,” Katara began as she made a movement to follow him.

Zuko put a hand on her shoulder, and the waterbender faltered, turning towards him.

“Let him go,” he said quietly. “He needs time to sort it out by himself.”

The waterbender huffed in indignation and began walking towards her own room.

“I’m going to turn in early tonight,” she muttered, arms wrapped around her torso. “Good night, guys.”

“Good night,” the rest of them mumbled back, all but Zuko turning their attention back to dinner. The firebender scrutinized her receding figure as Katara turned the corner and went down the left hall to her room. He knew she was likely going to talk with him anyways that night, but the least he could do was make sure she gave the airbender enough space to cool down.

After a few minutes of glaring at the corridor, Zuko turned back to the ragtag team of misfits and their lively voices. Though he had been traveling with Team Avatar for some time now, the way they managed to turn the subject of conversation to the Earth King’s bear Bosco in such a short amount of time would forever be a mystery to him, but nevertheless he listened attentively and heard from them all the latest exploits of what went on beyond Fire Nation borders.

Meanwhile, true to her word, Katara went back to her room and attempted to sleep, but it was an effort in vain. The last few days had been weighing heavily on her- she and Aang had never experienced such a tumultuous period in their friendship before, and between the kiss during the play and the past ten minutes, it was safe to say there was some tension.

She closed her eyes and groaned, tossing and turning to try and find a comfortable position to no avail. She just couldn’t take her mind off it. Katara stared at the ceiling and let out a short huff before sitting back up with a new fire in her eyes. She wasn’t going to sit around, no, she was going to face her problems head on like a rock!

“Toph would be so proud,” Katara chuckled as she wrapped her kimono on over her bindings.

With as much stealth as she could muster, Katara carefully opened the door from her room and crept down the hallway until she was facing the entrance to Aang’s.

She stared at the block of wood intently. It almost seemed like a cruel metaphor- the barrier between her and Aang not only physically, but emotionally as well.

Nevertheless, Katara was here to get things done.

The waterbender didn’t want to knock and alert everyone else of what she was doing, but she also didn’t want to show up unannounced and startle Aang. After a few minutes of careful consideration, Katara concluded that the latter was the lesser of the two evils, and she slowly pushed the handle and entered his room.

In the very back, she saw Aang’s silhouette in the partially open paper divider splitting the balcony from the main room. Katara walked closer to him, and she sat down silently at the opening of the divider when she saw him in deep concentration. He had been meditating with four small candles, some water, and some rice buns on a wooden board in front of him. The dim light of the candles highlighted Aang’s tense features, contorted in frustration.

“I know you’re there, Katara,” the airbender said after a few moments, apparently not as concentrated as she thought. “I could hear your footsteps from a mile away.”

The girl blushed furiously in embarrassment and promptly decided the floor was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Katara apologized. “I just wanted to talk but I get if you’re busy-”

Aang sighed and bowed his head in reverence to the spirits before opening his eyes and turning to look at her with a kind expression.

“It’s alright. Meditating wasn’t really getting me anywhere anyways,” he said sheepishly. “What did you want to talk about?”

Katara twisted a lock of hair around her finger and scooted closer to him.

“I’m not here to lecture you or anything. I’m not here to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do because ultimately it’s up to you and only you. You’re under a lot of stress right now, and I get that. I just don’t want, well, us,” she gestured between them, “to be a part of that stress.”

The airbender laughed nervously and looked at the trees around them to avoid her gaze. He subtly wiped his growingly sweaty hands on his cotton shirt, praying to all the spirits that she wasn’t talking about what he thought she was talking about.

“W-w-what do you mean? You, me, we’re f-friends! Good friends! Th-that’s all there is to it, right?”

“I’m talking about last night at the play,” Katara responded quietly, fingers fidgeting around in her lap. “We should talk about it.”

“Thanks a lot, spirits,” Aang groaned internally. He sighed and tucked his knees into his body.

“I think we both made it pretty clear that we want different things, Katara. It’s alright, really,” he said with a sad smile. “I made a mistake kissing you, especially after you already said you were confused, and I’m sorry. You don’t have to worry about me- I’ll get over it. I just don’t want to lose your friendship. I’d rather we just pretend like it never happened.”

The regret in his eyes was as clear as a full moon against the backdrop of a cloudless night sky, and it killed Katara from within to see it.

“We both said a lot of things that night, Aang,” she frowned. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot the last day, and I didn’t explain myself very well.”

Aang looked at her hesitantly, silently pleading with her to continue. The waterbender tried her hardest not to grin when she saw his unintentional yet extremely endearing puppy dog eyes and instead threw her head back to look at the stars above them.

“I don’t want to lose your friendship either, Aang,” Katara murmured, gazing up at the sky. “You’re the first person I’ve known from outside my tribe, the first other bender I’ve met- you showed me the world. You were my first real friend, and... also my first kiss, first three actually.”

Heat rushed up to their cheeks while Aang became very invested in the wooden flooring, eyes fully concentrated on the patterns of the boards .

“...but more than that,” Katara continued, “you’re the first person I’ve cared for this much, and my brain, my heart, really, doesn’t quite know how to feel about that.”

She tilted her head to the side to look at the boy next to her, who was now also staring at her with newfound hope.

“So yeah,” she exhaled loudly, “I’m confused. But I don’t want to pretend like none of that night ever happened, because if I’m being honest, a part of me wanted all of the… all of our kisses to happen.”

The two sat in silence for a few moments while Aang tried to process her words and formulate his own response.

“So…” Aang trailed off. “Does that mean this, us, still has a chance?”

Katara looked at their intertwined hands and gave him a sad smile.

“Maybe, but that’s just it, Aang. We can’t, not right now.”

The airbender’s cautious smile immediately dropped and was replaced by a frown as he broke eye contact.

“We’re in a war,” she murmured apologetically. “No one, especially not us, can afford to do anything differently. In three days, you’re going to be facing the Firelord, which means in three days, one way or another, this war will be over, and sacrifices will probably be made.”

“Katara, you’re not saying-”

She shook her head. “I’m not saying that, but war means making hard decisions, and in that moment, with that decision, we can’t let emotions cloud our judgement. No matter what sacrifices might be made, we have to end this before it’s too late.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t come to that,” Aang said firmly. “I don’t care what it takes.”

Katara smiled at him and leaned in to gently press a kiss to his cheek.

“I know you won’t. I also know that whatever happens with the Firelord, you’ll do the right thing. Not because you’re the Avatar and you have to, but because you’re Aang. Because you’re my Aang, and my Aang always does the right thing.”

The airbender let out a breath of relief, heart practically glowing at her faith in him, and enveloped her in an embrace.

“Thank you, Katara. For everything. For being here for me the last few months, for getting me out of that iceberg, for coming here tonight telling me what I really needed to hear. It means a lot.”

Katara happily returned the hug and squeezed him tight. “Of course, Aang.”

She furrowed her eyebrows when she noticed the circles under his eyes as they broke apart.

“It’s getting late,” Katara whispered, her fingertips lightly tracing his cheeks.

“I’ll leave you to all this-” she gestured to the candles and food, staring quizzically at the contents of the board. “-Avatar business and whatnot. I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thanks, I’ll try my best,” Aang laughed softly as the girl stood up and began walking back to her room. “Good night, Katara. Sweet dreams.”

“I know you will, Aang. Good night and don’t stay up too late- you’ll need your rest.”

The waterbender quietly exited and Aang released a heavy sigh as the door closed with a soft thud.

The airbender turned back to his spread, closed his eyes once more, and resumed his meditation, hoping that somehow, by some miracle, there was another way waiting for him.

“I sure hope you’re right, Katara. I’ll need that luck.”

[xjoonchildx]

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter two: i’m screwed

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 3.1K

A/N: you guys are? the? best? i’m so thrilled that you guys like the story and i hope you like this chapter, too.  i’d like to thank my emotional support llamas @ladyartemesia and @taetaewonderland for being the amazing people they are and beta reading for me, too. they really are the best.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

************************

“What’s with the muscle?”

Donghyuk looks over his menu, eyes narrowed on the man just behind you.  You sip your wine as you decide on how you want to answer that.

Jung Hoseok is seated at a table for one, barely three feet away.  If you thought spending the last four days with him under one roof had been the most awkward stretch of your entire life, then you were dead wrong.

Tonight is infinitely more awkward.  

“Personal security,” you say casually, picking up your menu to peruse the entrees for effect.

Donghyuk’s answering huff of agitation is loud -- probably loud enough for Hoseok to hear and your skin prickles with embarrassment.

“You need security to have dinner with me now?”

“Don’t be silly,” you say under your breath, hoping Donghyuk will take the hint and lower his voice.  “I’m getting some heat on the Kwon and Lim case, so it’s just a precaution. Nothing to worry about.”

“Right,” he deadpans, one skeptical eyebrow raised.  “I see you every day at work. How is this the first I’m hearing about this?”

“Must have slipped my mind,” you say with nonchalance, looking back to your menu.  

You should be deciding on something to eat but your mind is wandering.  You wonder if Hoseok has ever been to this restaurant before. You wonder if he purposely picked a table where he could see you but you couldn’t see him. You wonder what he plans to order.

You wonder --

“Well, you’re sending him home for the night, right?”

Your wine glass thumps against the linen tablecloth when you set it down with more force that you’d intended. A flush creeps up your neck.

How much of this conversation can Hoseok hear from his vantage point?  The thought makes the tips of your ears warm as you fix your dinner date and occasional hookup partner with a warning glare.   Smart as Donghyuk is -- with the law degree to prove it -- he can be downright thick sometimes.  

‘No,” you say quietly.

He narrows his eyes.

“No, you don’t want to? Or no, you can’t?”

You blow out one long, irritated breath.

“‘Hyuk, I’m about two seconds from walking out of here,” you hiss. “Can we just drop this?”

He stops just short of frowning, eyes sliding back over your shoulder to Hoseok.

“And for the love of God, quit staring at him.”

Donghyuk slams his menu shut.

**********************

Jung Hoseok is like a ghost in your home.

He moves with a practiced stealth that makes it hard for you to keep track of what room he’s in at any given time.  He’s awake when you wake and still awake when you head to your room at night.

You have no idea when the man sleeps or when he eats.

Conversations -- if you can call them that -- are stilted and awkward. Short discussions limited to working out the logistics of your day.  You tell him where you need to be and when and he makes it happen.  

Apart from that, there is silence -- thick and suffocating and constant.

In fact, Hoseok is so silent inside your home that when you’ve retreated to your opposite corners of the apartment you could almost pretend that things are normal.  You could almost pretend that you don’t have a complete stranger living in your home.

But then you catch a scent.

It’s the smell of coffee that greets you when you wake every morning to a freshly-brewed pot.

It’s the clean, masculine smell that wafts under his bedroom door, carried on humid air after he’s showered.

And sometimes it’s the scent of gun oil that creeps into your room at night when he’s cleaning his pistol, bringing back memories you’d thought were long lost.  Memories you’d hoped were long lost.

That’s the scent that always brings you back to your senses -- the one that reminds you that the man under your roof isn’t just any houseguest.  

He might not look like the battered thugs who worked for your father all those years, but underneath the designer suits and composed exterior is a man cut from the very same cloth.  

And you’d better not forget it.

***********************

The sunlight beating down on the window to your office this morning is deceptive.  

Behind the protection of the thick glass, it’s powerful enough to make you feel uncomfortably warm in your lightweight sweater -- but outside it’s bitter cold.

Hoseok is parked just across the street from your building, like he has been every day this week.  You can’t help but notice there isn’t any steam coming out of the exhaust of the sleek black sedan and you wonder if he’s warm enough in there.

“You busy?”

Hyejin interrupts your thoughts with a knock at your office door.  

“Not at all,” you sigh, turning to smile at her before taking a seat at your desk.  “I should be busy, I just seem to keep finding ways to put things off.”

“Tell me about it,” she laughs. “Listen, I was looking for the photos we got from the Daerim warehouse. I can’t find them in the file and thought maybe you pulled them for something.”

“No, I haven’t pulled them,” you say, lips pursing into a frown as your hands skate over the papers on your desk.  You flip the corners of the folders up, checking to see if the photos are hidden underneath.  “They’ve got to be here somewhere.  Maybe Hajoon took them?”

Hyejin nods. “Yeah, maybe.  I’ll check with him.  You alright this morning?”

Tense laughter bubbles up your chest.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just have a lot going on, is all. Let me know when you find those photos, okay?”

“Will do,” Hyejin promises before leaving you alone to your work and your thoughts.

Hyejin is probably the closest thing you have to a friend — but there’s no way you’d tell even her that your brother thinks someone is trying to kill you and you’re living with an armed guard.

That’s not a conversation you can have with anyone.

You grab a drink, straighten up your papers and get to work.

The raid at the Daerim warehouse turned up enough guns to arm the entire city.  Police spent hours unpacking weapons from giant crates, hidden inside huge sacks of coffee beans and offloaded from a ship that docked from Colombia.  The coffee was pretty decent, actually.

As for the guns -- you knew the Ssijog leadership was furious about the confiscation. In all, investigators estimated they took about 7 billion won worth of firearms out of that warehouse that day.  That’s the kind of financial hit that could level any criminal organization, including your brother’s.

What you can’t seem to understand is why the Ssijog seem more worried about the men taken away at that raid than the guns.

You take a close look at the side-by-side booking photos of Kwon Jiho and Lim Joowon.

These are the kind of men who look like the muscle your father kept around. Heavily-tattooed, thick-necked and ears cauliflowered from one too many fights.  Their criminal records read like street gangster templates, page after page of petty crimes starting in their youth graduating to more violent crimes in recent years.

Men like these are a dime a dozen in this line of work.  So what makes these two so special that the Ssijog are this desperate to get them back?

You pull a post-it note out of your drawer and grab a sharpie. In big block letters you write the question you have to answer before this situation really spirals out of control.

WHAT DO THEY KNOW?

****************************

Car rides are the only time you let yourself get a good look at Jung Hoseok.

When he’s driving, his eyes never leave the road, never stray in your direction -- and you refuse to make him feel like some kind of glorified chauffeur by riding in the backseat.  So you use the silent drives as an opportunity to steal glances at him from the passenger seat like a shy kid.

Hoseok has strangely elegant hands for a man with a career in crime, you think. Long fingers free of scratches and calluses; prominent veins that move when his hand works over the gear shift.  And then there is his face -- his chiseled jawline and sharp nose and bow-shaped mouth.

He’s handsome, of course, and you -- a woman with a pulse and perfectly-functioning eyesight -- would be lying if you tried to deny it.

Tonight you are so distracted with looking at Hoseok’s face that you miss the fact that he’s skipped the turn he normally takes to get back to your apartment.  It isn’t until you are well into the heart of downtown that you snap out of your stupor and take a look outside.

“Where are we going?”

“Your brother wants to see you.”

Your scowl is wasted on the man because he doesn’t bother to look your way.

“So is this how things work now? You and my brother decide where I go and when and I’m the last to know?”

Hoseok is unmoved by your obvious irritation.

“Just following orders,” he counters evenly. “You’ll need to take up any concerns you have about your schedule with Namjoon.”

“I’ll do that,” you murmur, turning to glare out the window.  

A short while later you’re walking into your brother’s office, Hoseok trailing closely behind.  Namjoon signals for him to leave the two of you alone to speak privately.  You round on him as soon as the door latches behind Hoseok.

“If you want me here,” you say tightly, “Then tell me. Directly. I don’t like finding out I have plans second-hand from my babysitter.”

The corners of Namjoon’s mouth lift into a wry smile.  “Good to see you too?”

You roll your eyes but you can’t help but smile back. Your brother seems at ease tonight, lighter somehow.  It’s a good look on him.

“I want to know how things are going,” he says, leaning back into his chair. “How are you finding Jung Hoseok?”

Let’s see. Frigid? Intense? Unapproachable?

“He’s...quiet,” you say after a long moment.  “And maybe unnecessary at this point. I haven’t had any more trouble since that letter.”

“I assure you, he’s still very necessary,” Namjoon returns quickly.  “We’ve still got a lot to work out as far as this situation goes. My guys on the street say the Ssijog are in planning mode. I don’t want any of them catching us unaware with some kind of nasty surprise.”

You sigh.  “So no end in sight.”

“Not right now. Just bear with this a bit longer, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your buzzing phone.

Your mouth pulls into a tight line when you read the waiting message.

hyejin: can’t find the pictures. hajoon doesn’t have [ 6:15 PM ]

you: ? i have backup on my laptop [ 6:17 PM ]

hyejin: okay need to make sure we have those tonight? [ 6:18 PM ]

you: yeah, i’ll call you from my place when i get them [ 6:18 PM ]

“Everything alright?” Namjoon asks when you rub your fingers against your temples.

“Yeah, just work stuff,” you sigh, a low-level anxiety simmering in your stomach. “I actually have to go, unless there’s something else you needed?”

“No, just—“ your brother looks like there’s something he wants to say, but decides against it.  “— just be careful, okay?”

You nod and send him a small smile.

“I’ll try.”

You’re almost to the door when you hear him call out to you again.

“And Amsaja -- with Hoseok.  Try being nice.”

He nearly laughs at the disgusted look you shoot back.

*****************************

HOSEOK

Hoseok’s got a pretty good idea of what a prosecutor makes in this town, and it’s damned sure not enough to pay for your lifestyle.

Your spacious apartment in one of the best buildings in town, your expensive furnishings, your fancy car and your designer clothes.  Hoseok has done the math in his head and that shit does not add up.

You’re a hypocrite, he decides -- too good to associate yourself with the trash that brings money in for the Gajog, but apparently not too good to spend it.  Living comfortably on the backs of men you wouldn’t acknowledge in the streets.

Men like him.

Hoseok wishes that didn’t get under his skin the way it does.  

He wishes he didn’t feel resentment simmering under the surface every time he sees you, every time he even thinks of you.  You keep to yourself and you don’t make demands and you haven’t really given him a reason to dislike you, but he desperately wants to.  

He needs to.

He wishes he truly didn’t give a shit about the idiot you had dinner with the other day.  The one straight off the assembly line of some prep school in the Seocho District.  The one with the loud mouth and the loafers and the country-club grin.  He wonders what you see in that guy, when all he can see is how punchable his face looks.

That’s why Hoseok doesn’t give too much weight to the furtive looks he can see you stealing in his peripheral vision.  He doesn’t put too much stock in the way your cheeks color when he looks at you sometimes.  He has to remind himself that underneath the polite distance and pretty packaging, you’re just desperate to be done with this entire situation.  You’re desperate to distance yourself from him and people like him.  

When he finds himself staring at you when you’re not looking, Hoseok forces himself to remember that men like him don’t warm your bed, they pay your bills.

And he’d better not forget it.

**************************

Hoseok can read the agitation in your body language loud and clear the second you slide back into the car.

He can see the way you keep scrolling through your phone, firing off texts and emails from the passenger seat. Tonight, you stare out of the window instead of pretending not to stare at him and he wonders what happened behind closed doors with your brother.

He almost lets it go because it’s none of his business. But he’s curious.

“Are you...upset about something?”

You seem to startle when he asks the simple question.

“Uh, yeah. Sort of,” you admit quietly, eyes falling back to your phone. “Work stuff.  I have to find something when we get home.”

Hoseok nods, eyes glued to the road.  “We’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks,” you say, turning to look out the window again.

Minutes later, you’re both walking into the apartment.  Hoseok turns to secure the deadbolt lock and when he turns back, you’re gone.  He hears the room to your bedroom click closed.  

He briefly entertains the idea of asking you if you need help, but resists.

Instead he sweeps the open rooms of the apartment like he does every night before heading into his room and closing the door.

************************

The knock that comes almost two hours later is just short of aggressive.  Hoseok jumps up off the bed, ready in the case of trouble.

He does not miss the way your eyes go a bit wide when he opens the door, dressed in a thin tank and sweatpants.

“You need something?” he asks when you don’t say anything right away.

“Uh yeah, sorry,” you say with a shake of your head. “I’ve just never seen you in anything but a suit.  For a second I wasn’t sure you were the same man.”

“You think I sleep in a suit?”

“Well I wouldn’t put it past you,” you say hotly.  “But that’s not the point. I need you to take me to the office. Please.”

Hoseok glances at his watch.

“Now?”

“Yes,” you sigh. “I know it’s late and I’m sorry. This is super important.”

“Alright, hang on,” Hoseok says, turning to grab his holster from the dresser.  He slips into it and notices your gaze lingering on the pistol he fits onto his side.  You clear your throat and look down at the floor while he slips a sweatshirt overhead.

“It’s just a precaution, okay?”

Hoseok doesn’t know why he’s bothering to reassure you.  You know that he’s armed all the time, you grew up in this life.  None of this should surprise you.

You say nothing.

It takes only ten minutes to get across town to your office, in the dead of night and in the absence of traffic.  You look almost as irritated as you are surprised when Hoseok climbs out of the car to escort you inside.

“You’re coming in?”

“Yes,” Hoseok fires back, keeping pace just behind you.  “It’s well after hours. No one will see us together, since that’s what you’re so worried about.”

You stop for a moment, turning to face him and mouth opening like you want to deny it.  But you don’t.  

“Fine,” you say under your breath. “Please avoid looking at the cameras.”

“I know how to do my job,” Hoseok manages between gritted teeth.  

“I never said you didn’t,” you hiss back.

The two of you stand just outside the entrance to the building, trading glares.  

The tension feels like a step backward somehow.

One strained elevator ride later, Hoseok trails you into your office.  You flip the lights and immediately get to work going through file cabinets.  Hoseok takes a look around.

It’s not a huge space, but the large windows looking out onto the street make it look a little bigger.  Piles of file folders and papers are sorted into neat columns on your desk.  A desk, Hoseok notes -- completely devoid of personal effects.  No pictures, no mementos.  He doesn’t know why that bothers him so much.

“Shit.”

It’s the first word either one of you has spoken in five minutes.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Hoseok turns to find you on your knees at the base of a filing cabinet, a pile of flash drives scattered across the floor.

“What is it?” he asks, crouching down beside you.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, covering your face with your hands.  

Hoseok picks up a flash drive, turns it to the side to read the small label.  It’s dated three years back, with the name “Cheon” written on the side.

“All of my digital evidence is gone. All of it,” you whisper, voice wobbling with emotion.  “I was searching the cloud at home and thought there was some kind of mistake. There’s no way this is a mistake. There’s no way my cloud and flash backups disappeared by chance.”

You’re right, of course, but Hoseok doesn’t voice that out loud.  You look stricken already without him pouring salt in that wound.

“What about these?” he asks, handing you the flash drive.  

“Old cases,” you say, shoving a hand through your hair.  “They didn’t bother to pull my old cases. Whoever took them knew exactly what they were looking for.”

Hoseok almost forgets himself for a moment.  

He nearly forgets who you are and who he is and what this is. He stops himself just short of reaching out to put a comforting hand on your shoulder.  

You turn tired eyes up to meet his.

“I’m screwed.”

**************************

tag list!

@saintjeonofbusan​ @lemonjoonah @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sunkissed725 @taetaewonderland @shadowhale @sugaminyoonjiji @jinhitwhore @trust-me-im-joly @daydreambrliever @jjeonjoon @ultraanonymousey @yoon-bug @multistantrash17 @poohsaidhi @alyboo-jpeg @sahmfanficbts @yoongissugarmommy

[lokis-army-77]

If You Please

Chapter nine

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2200

This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.

Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: angst, mention of death

<< Previous Next>>

Masterlist

It was nearing the end of December when we were given our first HYDRA takedown mission. The Howling Commandos, which was what we were calling the group of men that Steve and I helped put together, were eager to get back to the fighting. In the past month, we had all grown fond of each other, which was needed if we were to work as a team in the heat of battle.

Howard had given Steve and me our new uniforms a few days beforehand, although the dark royal blue, I still felt more comfortable in my old army uniform. I wore the suit only to ease the peace of mind of both Steve and Bucky, who were both afraid of me possibly getting hurt on these missions. Unlike Steve's uniform, mine had no stars and stripes, just some places where the seams had been piped in a light stone gray color. Howard also made sure to make a belt that would hold both my twin pistols and the bo staff when it was separated into two separate pieces.

It had taken a little over a year for our group to take out all of the Hydra bases Steve had pointed out on the map. The way we had worked, flowed like a well oil machine. All eight of us had our specific roles and we played them well. Bucky was our sniper, he hid out in the trees or on top of opposing buildings, watching for danger and alerting us when he did. Once he had you in his iron sites, he never missed. Gabe was our machine gunman, he came in for the heavy artillery when we needed to smoke the enemy out. Jacques or Jac, as we all liked to call him, could only speak french to Gabe and me, he was great at hand-to-hand combat but tended to be a little more reckless than everyone else, which was why he liked to do the more risky tasks. Jim was our tech guy, he had taken a few of the enhanced HYDRA weapons and put them to good use on the battlefield, he also ran our radio transmissions and dealt with helping me get feedback on HYDRA’s movements. Falsworth was one of the best explosives makers I’d seen in the field. He could create a bomb out of almost anything you handed to him. Dum Dum was our ace card, he was strong, handled guns like he was born to, and fought expertly. Steve was our leader, but I stepped in as second in command as needed. Lastly, I was our go-to on the stealth side of things. I snuck up on the unsuspecting, took them out, and gathered all the intel that could be useful to us. Getting in and getting out was my job, but I wasn’t afraid to get my hands dirty once in a while.

Now it was February of 1945 and we were standing on a freezing cliff waiting for a train carrying unknown materials to HYDRA. Steve, Bucky, and I stood at the edge of the cliff while Dum Dum and Jac winched in the zipline cable taught. Gabe and Jim were listening in on the transmissions from Dr. Zola on the train to a HYDRA commander, and Falsworth was looking out into the canyon with his binoculars.

“Do you two remember when we all rode the cyclone at Coney Island?” Bucky asked.

I shook my head in a laugh before rubbing my gloved hands together and brought them to my mouth to try and warm them up. “How could I forget, Steve threw up all over the new white oxfords that took me forever to save up and buy.”

“Hey, I said I was sorry!” Steve exclaimed.

"Well, I hope this isn’t payback for forcing you on it.” Bucky looked out into the distance, shaking nervously. I grabbed his hand and brought it to my lips and kissed it. He looked over at me and smiled.

“They’re headed this way and fast. Zola just got confirmation to open up the throttle.” Gabe called out.

“I can see them, they’ll be within distance in a few minutes with how fast they’re going,” Falsworth stated as he moved his eyes away from the binoculars.

“Well, I guess it’s now or never boys. Do you all remember the plan?” I looked to Steve, Bucky, and Gabe who would be the only ones with me on the train, they all nodded. I moved closer to Bucky and leaned up to kiss him, “I’ll see you when this is all over.”

“Be careful Doll,” he whispered into my ear.

“You know I will.” I turned from him then and grabbed onto the zipline handle. I would be the first to go down because it was my job to try and get the train stopped as fast as possible.

As the train came closer I jumped and skidded down the long metal line. I watched as the train moved quickly under my dangling body. Letting go of the handles, I drop, not so gracefully onto the engine car. There was no way in from the top like there were on most trains, it was completely smooth. Carefully walking toward the front of the engine, I noticed the gunner flaps open on the sides. They looked big enough for me to slip through. So without a second thought, I went straight for the left one.

Slipping down into the car I thought it was weird that no one was in sight. I grabbed both separated sides of my staff out of their holders and brought them up. The conductor's room was cut off from the rest of the car by a large metal door with a small glass window. I walked up to the door and listened carefully. I could hear most of what was going on thanks to the enhanced hearing the serum gave me.

“Stop them! Fire again!” Someone yelled. I quickly glanced through the window and saw only two people, one guard, and Zola. “Shoot him again! Kill him now!” He yelled again. Without waiting another second, I backed up and kicked in the door. It swung open and I strutted in. Both the guard and Zola turned around in shock.

“Now, you’re going to either step away from the control panel willingly or I can force you to do it, either way, works for me,” I said as I walked over towards the armed guard who was pointing his gun at me. “And you can drop your gun.” The guard looked to Zola and then back at me before lowering his gun to the ground. I picked it up and threw the sling over my shoulder. I grabbed the pair of handcuffs the guard had on him and bound his wrists, pushing him assertively to the floor. I then walked over to Zola and bound his wrists with the cuffs that I was carrying. I sat him down next to the guard.

At that moment Gabe came crashing in through a window above me, out of nowhere. “You know, you sure did take long enough. I've already got this handled.” I said as I went over to Zola and cuffed him with my own handcuffs.

“Hey, it takes a minute to walk down the length of a fastly moving train. Steve and Bucky are fine, so everything seems to be going smoothly. The Colonel and the rest of the special forces group are waiting for us on the other side of the tunnel.” he said as he took Zola's place at the control panel.

Soon the train started to come to a stop, we unloaded Zola and the guard, placing them in the custody of the military officers who had met us on the other side of the tunnel. I waited patiently in the falling snow for Bucky and Steve to make their way out of the train. I walked around to keep myself from freezing as I waited. As I walked to the other side of the train I noticed that a giant hole had been blown out of the side. I turned away when I heard someone call out my name.

Steve stood at the front of the train with a solemn look on his face. I ran over to him and gave him a hug. “What's the matter, Stevie?” I asked, concerned. He just shook his head and looked blankly at his hands. “Where’d Bucky go?” He didn’t answer me, just kept looking at his hands. I snapped my fingers in front of his face to try and get his attention. “Hello, earth to Steven. Where is Bucky?”

“I tried. I really did, you have to believe me.” He choked out. I moved away from him slightly, giving him a questioning look.

“Steve, what do you mean? You aren't making any sense.”

“He was right there, I almost had him, but.” He stopped mid-sentence.

“What happened to Bucky, Steve?” I raised my voice. He pushed me away from him but said nothing. “What happened to him!” I yelled out. Something bad had happened to my fiancé and was going to find out what. I stepped back closer to Steve and pushed his chest hard. “Tell me!”

“He got knocked out of the train. He held onto the siding and I went to pull him up but he was too far out of reach. He slipped before I could get closer to his hand.”

“No. No, you’re lying to me.” I could feel my eyes burning as I tried to keep the tears from falling. “This isn’t funny Steve, where is he?” My voice shook uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry, I really tried, but he’s gone.” Steve choked out the words. I hit him hard in the chest as I started to cry. I hit him over and over again.

“Don’t just stand there, bring him back,” I sobbed out. The tears were streaming down my face now, almost freezing instantly in the cold wind. I went to hit him again but he just wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into him tightly. “Bring him back please,” I begged, crumpling to the ground. Steve followed suit, in order to not let go of me. “I didn’t even say I love you to him before we started the mission.” I gasped out. It was getting harder to breathe as I kept sobbing into Steve. He sat there quietly petting my hair as I kept murmuring to myself.

The only man I had ever loved was just ripped away from me. I had so much of our lives planned out, from our wedding to when we died of old age together. Now all of that had been taken and I felt empty inside, I was just a hollow shell. My ears were ringing and everything around me sounded muffled like I was underwater. The world started to dull and I just closed my eyes.

I woke up in a hard bed with a bright light shining into my face. I blinked my eyes several times before I could even open them properly. I looked to my left and there sat Steve in a small wooden chair.

“Glad to see you’re awake, how are you feeling, all things considered?” He leaned in close.

“I feel like I just woke up from the most terrible nightmare, only the nightmare is real. How are you dealing with it? He was your best friend.” I laid there, numbly playing with the fraying edges of the blanket.

“Did you know we can’t get drunk? I tried when we first got back to London. You’ve been out cold for three days.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “If you’re feeling up to it, we’re having a meeting about finding Schmidt in thirty minutes.” He stood up, grabbed my hand, and squeezed it before letting go and walking out of the room.

I felt the tears coming again as I sat myself up. To my right was a small table with a glass of water. I took the glass and gulped the contents down. Being awake without Bucky here was worse than dying. I contemplated for a good while if I was going to join the meeting, My only motivation to get up and dressed was the thought of killing Johann Schmidt.

I made my way through the halfways of the base quickly. The meeting had started ten minutes ago. The doors were closed when I got there, so I threw them open. They slammed into the wall, which startled the whole room. I could feel the pity in their eyes as they all turned to look at me. I just held my head up high and walked to the open seat next to Steve.

“What did I miss?” I questioned.

“Schmidt is hiding out in a base in the Alps. We have just under twenty-four hours to find him. We're gonna hit them head-on.” Steve relayed to me.

“Okay then. I’m coming with you.”

“Are you sure about this?” Peggy asked with concern all over her face.

“Most definitely. I want to be the one to kill Schmidt.” I was set in my way and no one was going to stop me.

Tag list: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae

[nanyoky]

@essayofthoughts asked for:

"Perc'ahlia babe and also Vaxleth and Pikelan"

Mwahahaha...

Perc'ahlia:

Who’s the messiest one: I mean it depends. Cuz Percy has a place for every little thing. But when he's mid project it tends to turn into organized chaos. Vex may occasionally leave things lying around if she's tired or distracted.

Who feels the most uncomfortable about PDA: definitely Percy, but it's less uncomfortable and more "easily flustered." Like it's just something he's accepted. Vex gunna smooch. Percy gunna blush.

Who’s the funniest drunk: Percy. Cuz he has the same attitude, but he's struggling to take off his socks for bed like "what a- a- idiotic invenshuhh..... Fucking.... Stuplid..... Imma make em better... Make... Sock....better...." While Vex is equally drunk but still doing her four step skincare routine like "yes dear"

Who texts the most: probably Vex. Anything between conversational back and forth, long rambling but deep trains of thought and "LOOK AT THIS DOG I MET"

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music: hmm probably Percy but only in like a "parody of himself" kinda way. Nothing but a mix of chamber orchestra and emo music. Which aren't all that bad on their own, but he is a hashtag Byronic Posh Boi and so of COURSE that's all he listens to. Vex has cool(tm) tastes in music. Even if a song or artist wasn't cool (tm) before, it becomes cool(tm) once she likes it.

Who reads the most: I mean Percy. Not that Vex doesn't read, but he big nerd.

Who’s better with kids: ooo boy that's A QUESTION for some canonical parents, huh? I'm going to say Percy, just because I feel like Vex is a parent who can get overwhelmed sometimes and not know how to handle needy kids when she's running on empty (feel like I should say this does not make a person a bad parent- just that as a kid it's hard to understand that adults get tired). Meanwhile Percy has a natural tone that suggests what he's saying is fact, so if he's too tired for high energy toddlers he's just like "sitting by the fire drinking tea is a very fun game" and the bbs just climb into his lap like "you're right being quiet and snuggly is very fun" while Vex watches like "HOW."

Who’s the one that fixes things around the house: Percy's a good good tinker boi

Who’s got the weirdest hobby: listen one of them invented firearms and the other has a pet bear it's a toss up.

Who cooks and who cleans up: Both are what you might call... Functional cooks. Nothing to write home about, but they get the job done. But Percy excels more at baking (structured, exacting) and Vex is better at more loosely defined things like soups and sauces. Cleaning up is a duo activity and a nice part of their evening wind down.

Vaxleth:

Who’s the messiest one: deffo Keyleth. Houston we have a hoarder. She gets emotionally attached to everything, and saves up little bits and bobs of things for crafting and home diy projects all the time.

Who feels the most uncomfortable about PDA: probably Keyleth, but it's in like- the most Social Anxiety way possible. It's not so much that she's uncomfortable, it's that she gets worried that being snuggly or kissing will make others uncomfortable.

Who’s the funniest drunk: oh that's a hard one. Cuz we've seen them both be high quality drunks, (ie day drinking queen and "heterosexuality is fake and magic is just the fucking best????????"). I'd say Vax because I feel like he's more likely to insist he's not that drunk and doesn't need anyone to look after him, and therefore will get into more shananigans/flirt more

Who texts the most: another toughie. Probably Vax, in a similar style to Vex.

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music: they both have the same issue as Percy, in that their tastes are just a parody of themselves. Vax has three categories of favorite music: sad emo boy, sexy alt boy, and rebellious 90s girl. And then Keyleth is just unironically into the softest cheesiest music you've ever heard on the soundtrack to a chick flick. We're talking Jewel here, folks. Also retro oldies cuz Homeschooled Vibes. I'm going to say Vax tho, cuz he's the one who gets emotional about it, while Keyleth is just a casual listener. And he listens to more of her music than she does his. She'll send him the Live at the Troubadour recording of Kelly Clarkson's Sober and he responds back like "??? Why would you send me this??? At 10am on a Tuesday??? When I have things to do??? Now I'm crying on the bus?????" And she's just "glad you liked it! :D"

Who reads the most: probably Vax. He gets deep into reading in attempts to find less self destructive ways of getting out of his head.

Who’s better with kids: hm I'm gunna say Vax on this one because Keyleth has a tendency to try too hard with everyone and was also an only child who was forced into very structured time while growing up cuz expectations. Vax has more clear memories of actually just being a kid when the twins were with their mom, so he can relate easier. That being said they're both pretty good, as we see with that kid Simon, a scene that will HAUNT ME FOREVER.

Who’s the one that fixes things around the house: def keyleth. DIY queen. Vax just gets frustrated and is like "let's just buy a new one"

Who’s got the weirdest hobby: hmmm. Keyleth has A LOT of hobbies, but Vax def will do parkour, just cuz. Like he may have started back when he was still kind of a criminal, but now he doesn't have a practical excuse and he doesn't even like- record it or anything so there's no point to it. He just sees urban environments and goes "gotta jump. Gotta climb. Just gotta."

Who cooks and who cleans up: Keyleth has got prep on lock. Gardening. Hunting and trapping. Gathering. Cleaning and dressing and chopping. She's got this. It's adding fire to things where she starts having trouble. Vax picks things up from there just fine though, and covers dishes and such on the back end.

Pikelan:

Who’s the messiest one: Pike. Pike. Pike. Having a perma-home at last means she gets comfy, which means you can usually not see the bedroom floor. Scanlan is scandalized.

Who’s the one that fixes things around the house: Scanlan tries. He likes the idea of being helpful with domestic stuff and not just a goofus who's just around for the fun parts of being together. Unfortunately he's never really lived anywhere long enough to get good at household repair, and it takes him way too long to do anything. Pike is pretty handy, but gets so busy that she'll just put up with something being broken for weeks. Best case scenario is Pike shows Scanlan how to do something so the next time he can do it himself and feel accomplished and she can come home to things being fixed and give him smooches and coo over him being a handyman.

Who's the funniest drunk? Pike. "I'M TRYING TO STEALTH."

Who feels the most uncomfortable about PDA: it may shock people, but Scanlan has the same "once it's serious I get bashful" disease as Vax. Pike will absolutely give his bootie a tap in line at the grocery store and he just goes bright red. He tries to laugh it off like he's still the smarmy mess everyone knows, but she teases him endlessly about it.

Who texts the most: Scanlan is an absolute "good morning," "thinking of you," "how was your day," and "goodnight" text person before they live together. After they move in together it's just text versions of his cover songs about his love for her and dank memes.

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music: we know it's Scanlan. We've heard his cover tracks. Pike has similar cool(tm) tastes as Vex.

Who reads the most: Pike is probably someone who's always on the move, so she's more an audiobook person. But Scanlan is like fully ready for the dad life. Just loving any weekend where he does nothing but sit around in flannel pj pants reading a mystery paperback.

Who’s better with kids: It's a hard one. Scanlan second guesses himself quite a bit and worries every little thing he says or does is going to become Lasting Trauma. Pike acts more chill about it, but slowly gets more and more overwhelmed until she nearly has a nervous collapse. But their opposite styles work well together and they're able to be a pretty great team.

Who’s got the weirdest hobby: I feel like Pike is someone with a weird collection. It is either something a little spooky but cool and academic, like antique medical equipment, or something horrifyingly tacky, like a thong from every city she visits. Maybe both.

Who cooks and who cleans up: this is where Scanlan is a much quicker learner about domestic stuff. Pike is a good cook, but it's usually on the move so much she doesn't have the time for meal planning and prep. Scanlan absolutely throws himself into being a house husband and gets obsessed with cooking shows. Pike insists on helping with dishes tho.