#try and put thought into reader remembrance when changing character names

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

Also my advice to anyone doing trans headcanons and want a new name for a character is to make the new name still resemble their old name like how I replaced Himiko with Himuro. This is for the sake of your audience, because even if you want to make trans Himiko say...Touma, it's going to be a LOT harder for the audience to follow without going "who the fuck is touma again?" and I find for clarity and ease of reading, keeping the name at least looking visually similar makes it easier to remember "oh right himURo is himIKo"

That's not to say you can't do it, but it's just easier for readers to transition (pun intended) understanding who this character is with a new name.

Also that you don't HAVE to change the name if you think its too iconic, plenty of trans people dont change their names, my trans girl kokichi still goes by kokichi because its HER name how DARE you insinuate she has to get a NEW one are you trying to steal her name?! She had it first how dare you!

[yoshkeii]

"𝙵𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚜"

࿐ character(s): Daichi Sawamura, Asahi Azumane

࿐ genre: sfw, soft/fluff

࿐ type: (au) headcanons

࿐ requested by: anon

⌦ boyfriend male!reader (he/him)

⌦ genshin impact x haikyuu!!, modern settings

⌦ ‘can i request an au headcanon (basically genshin impact x haikyuu!!, modern settings, but the vision bearers are rarer than post traveler time and there's still spiral abyss where vision bearers help discovering new information and artifacts, and getting paid from their country for that) So, daichi and asahi's boyfriend(a vision bearer, which element is up to you to decide.)(also separetly) reacts that their boyfriend just give them an old flower artifact that he found that reminds male!reader of his boyfriend‘

A/N: an interesting concept !! thank you for requesting, im not good with reactions but- ihopethisisokay,, i dont think i did well on this,, khai writes hcs weirdly pt. who fucking knows.

asahi azumane’s give flower: wanderer’s troupe or viridescent venerer

𝙳𝚊𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒:

》 staring at the rosy-red petaled flower that was supposedly made into a brooch, a piece missing that would make the item stay on the wearer. your eyes glossed over the item, identifying cracks and scratches on the metallic bronze pieces that accompanied the ordinary looking flower, that somehow was in one piece. just... slightly off-colored. before jumping as your name was called by another vision-bearer with two others by the way towards the exit of the Abyss floor, you began to hurry over to them as you gently slid the “Gladiator’s Nostalgia” into your pouch. the name you had read before within a dusty journal, remembering it so clearly with a much vibrant image than the real one you had now. but it oh, so reminded you of your beloved boyfriend, the one waiting for you at your shared home. 《

→ Daichi didn’t know he would be dating a vision-bearer, no one would’ve thought of a thing really. they were such a rare sight to see out in public- especially in the modern days. but that only just added to the many surprises you came home with after your days of working in the “Spiral Abyss” is what they call it.

→ giving him the faded-out red flower as soon as you walked through the front door, a bright smile across your face, was a sight he would never get tired of. except the slight worriedness would built up seeing scratches n bruises along your skin the more he stared...

→ eventually leading him to treating your injuries properly, maybe a slight scold or lecture here and there-

→ “Love, you know you have to be careful. Especially with fire! I know you have a Pyro vision, but that doesn’t mean mess around- and play with fire itself- You aren’t immune to it.” “..even worse that you tried using your abilities to cook..”

→ “He-hey it was a one time thing-!! and I was really curious ‘Muraaa..” you whined, wincing and pulling your face away with a pout as Daichi pressed a cotton swab onto the cut along your cheek.

→ “Yeah yeah, lil’ember.” He muttered the nickname, swiping a thumb over the bandaid to cover the cut. “..there you are done, now go get a change of clothes dirty boy- I have to put the first aid stuff away.”

→ seeing you disappear pass the door frame of your shared room, he went back to pack and close the first aid kit. before his eyes wandered towards the flower you had given him earlier, which was just idly sitting there on the counter. Daichi picked up the flower holding it gently in his palms, feeling the petals with his free hand.

→ he stared at the flower for a long moment, observing the petals before noticing the scratches on the metal pieces attached to the brooch. he smile gently, beginning to realize this was a gift to him, a gift that you gave and probably risked your life to nag. 

→ sighing deeply at the thought of you getting hurt, knowing how clumsy you can be, he went off to the shared room where you would be. just to make sure you dont... do something stupid.

→ “Y/N?” Daichi had softly called out, seeing your head peek out from the closet as you slid a shirt on. he motioned his hands upwards a little, still holding the faded-brooch in his palms. 

→ “Oh! The Gladiator’s Nostalgia? The flower, do you like it??” the way you had ecstatically replied, he could imagine a puppy’s tail wagging so fast. your eyes shimmering as you awaited his answer.

→ “I love it, ember, it was really nice of you to give it to me.” “..although I hope you didn’t get hurt too much... to achieve it. I bet this was hard to get-” He spoke softly, genuine about the words slipping through his lips.

→ “Well actually... not really-” seeing Daichi look at you in confusion, “..I’ve seen that artifact set a lot on my runs with my team, but are often- broken’n’damaged. So I- I could never give you one-” “There’s also different ones apart of the same set for yours!! I might try to collect the others for you... or more.. flowers..”

→ “Wa-wait-,, there’s more-?” he longed on his question, before he could let out another word he noticed how you started to ramble. talking about interesting details of the items you could get him on your adventures and battles, and all he did was listen. settling down on the edge of the bed while you went on.

→ you were so passionate with your job, what you were doing as a vision-bearer. it’s what he liked about you, or well... loved about you. although he wonder if every Vision-bearer were the same, he’d still take you, . date you, just as who you are. with, or without a vision. and ofc he will keep an eye on what gifts you decide to give him in the mere future.

𝙰𝚜𝚊𝚑𝚒:

》 being an Anemo Vision bearer, your able to adapt and flow with whatever could come your way. making elements spread across the battlefield with one set of moves or to crowd-control them into one spot for the others to strike the unfortunate foes. time to time you would stumble upon the “Viridescent Venerer” set in the fallen loot of opponents or the scuffed chests that were stashed at the end of battles. they looked so different than most artifacts, especially the flowers. common artifacts were genuine real flowers, making them have the same aspect as any other flower, withering and fading into nothing but dull-bland colors. but the Viridescent Venerer’s flower did not, it was just a white wild flower that used to cover the earth. and it has not withered one bit, and still gives off an exquisite fragrance you noticed as the times you ran by it... and well of course noticed it as the scent was what you usually smelled since you had one as part of your outfit. 《

→ Asahi had always pointed out the flower on your outfit, the “In Remembrance of Viridescent Fields“ is what the books would title it, but in short you just called it the Viridescent Venerer flower or just... Viridescent for Asahi’s sake.

→ he had always complimented on how it looked beautiful and pretty, especially when his beloved boyfriend is wearing it. 

→ as days of works and floors of the Spiral Abyss, you managed to find a new piece of the Viridescent to use. unlike discarding the one you currently you had, you had an idea that came into mind, finding you sliding the newer artifact into your bag before leaving off to home. a smile brought onto your face.

→ now cuddling in each others presence, you both chatted about your days. already cleaned yourself up from your days works. hand in hand with soft laughter erupting from both of you, before it died off into comfortable silence.

→ “Azumane, love?” you simply called out, knowing you caught his attention instantly as you felt movement from him. “You certainly like the flower on my fit.”

→ “Well it really is- pretty. Like knowing how regular and most flowers wilt and wither- That one hasn’t! An-And I believe its the same one you wore the day we met too-” he noted.

→ to only be surprised at his memory of these types of things, you laughed- making him startled and a bit embarrassed.

→ “You sure have quite the memory, to even remember that image? I’m impressed, so I assume... it has caught your eye since the start? Just like I was to your own vision~” you cooed, getting up from his grasps before disappearing pass a corner of a wall.

→ confusion expressed on Asahi’s face, sitting up from his position on the couch before his eyes caught the glimpse of the Viridescent in your hand.

→ sitting on the edge of the couch, you motioned the flower towards him, a gentle smile across your face.

→ “I would simply like you to have mine then, it is quite old- and worn from the times I’ve had it through my lifetime. But I think it’ll be a nice gift from me to you.”

→ hearing the words being slipped passed your mouth, he felt tears daring to fall from his eyes- Asahi did not know why. but imagining keeping the Viridescent you had for who knew how long-

→ it would be something he would cherish, something he wouldnt let go.

→ exchanging gentle kisses across your face in exchange, trying his best not to cry the joy. because it was so touching- so simple yet so poetic to give. he didn’t think he deserved one.

→ and from that afternoon, Asahi had kept it. he had kept it safe and sound, bringing it with him whenever you were never there. so he had something to calm him down in anxious moments. he had a memory of you in a flower that would never wither.

[padme-parker]

Collide / Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Chapter 6)

[a Star Wars x Avengers crossover]

Summary: You go to Onderon and meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Another call to home ensues and hearts get broken.

Warnings: angst, maybe cursing, I can’t think of anything else. oh and bad plot lmao

WC: 4.0k

A/N: this isn’t proof read so it might be scuffed. 

read chapter 5 here

C O R U S C A N T

After the nightmares began, Anakin was rarely around, only making you more susceptible to the dark side. You truly did want to tell him about what had been keeping you up at night, but how were you going to contact him when he was never around and the connection the two of you shared was seemingly cut off? You weren’t able to feel his emotions nor feel his presence. It was as if he had blocked you off, almost like he was dead, but he wasn’t. You knew that he went on more campaigns as he was barely spending time in the temple, wanting to stay as far away from you. And if the two of you ever were in the same room by sheer luck, he pretended that you didn’t exist.

On days where both Anakin and Obi Wan were gone, you trained with a girl named Xin. In a way, she reminded you of the mandalorian Sabine: intelligent, strong, and creative. She was skilled with her lightsaber, but also greatly skilled in hand to hand combat, making her an excellent training partner. When all three of them were gone, you spent time learning binary after shortly being gifted a droid. R2-KT, or Kaytee as you liked to call her, accompanied you on your walks around the Jedi temple, often telling you random facts about it or Coruscant.

As time passed, you noticed how the council became weary of your presence. After noticing the color of your saber, which wasn’t hard to miss, the Jedi Masters seemed to focus their attention on you whenever you were in the room with them. You would have liked to believe that you had begun to earn their trust, but you understood their cautiousness towards you. Hell, you would’ve probably reacted the same way if someone came to Earth using a big stone hidden in the middle of nowhere claiming that the fate of the universe rested in their hands.

The halls of the temple were empty- excluding the sentinels- as you roamed around with Kaytee at your side. It was still so surreal being in the Jedi temple. Six months ago you were on Earth, spending time with your family. It seemed so long ago since you were first introduced to Star Wars.

You were foreign to the concept of bonding, spending time with your peers. After spending almost 17 years in foster care, you learned to not attach yourself. To become cold, detached, and observant of your surroundings. With your arrival to the tower, it became a shock to you when you found out that the team spent time together willingly. Some nights they played games like Uno and Cards Against Humanity. You would always sit in the corner and watch them, not comfortable enough to be engaging with them in such a way like that. On the nights where they watched movies, you would always sit in the furthest seat away from the group. It stayed like that until Peter started coming to the bonding nights.

Due to the fact that he was still young, he stayed with his Aunt May. Only coming to the tower to help Tony with his projects. So it was a surprise to see him there, but you couldn’t help feel more comfortable knowing that someone else your age was there.

“So, what’re we watching tonight?” He asked. The team let out a couple of groans, unsure of what they were getting into. “How about we watch Star Wars? I bet you those two grandpas haven’t seen it yet.”

“Hey! Watch it, Peter.” Steve said, putting his hand over his heart to feign hurt. All it took for him to apologize was one glance at Bucky. “Sorry Mister Winter- uhh James- Bucky-- no. Sir Barnes. And Steve.”

He goes to sit down, but before he does, he takes a survey of the room. He notices you sitting alone on the couch, “Hey, why don’t you come sit closer?” He asked. You shake your head, telling him that you were alright where you were. “What about you? Have you seen Star Wars?” You quickly shake your head, you see Peter’s eyes widen and he takes off to sit in the empty spot next to you.

“OMG. WHAT? How have you never seen the movies?”

“Not everyone has the privilege to have a normal childhood. I just so happened to be one of those kids.” You informed him.

“Right, sorry.” He apologized, his hand awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sure you’ll love the movies though.”

Peter was right. After watching A New Hope, the team had retired to their respective rooms, but the two of you had stayed up all night finishing the movies. After watching all three trilogies, you had a new found obsession, especially for a certain Skywalker. Even though some people thought that Anakin was a bad character, and sure the script was really bad, you really did love him. So when he betrayed Obi Wan to save Padme, your heart couldn’t help but break. Poor man was so whipped for the pussy :( I guess you could call it to die for.

Although your time on Coruscant was limited, you did your best to enjoy it. The six months you had spent here so far had been a gift. The environment was truly mesmerizing, and you wanted to share it with Peter. You tried not to call him often, the time difference was just slightly confusing. While six months might’ve passed for you, it had only been a month for your family back home.

You were broken out of your reverie by the buzzing of your holocom, requesting your presence in the council room. Making your way into the room, you told Kaytee to wait by the doors. You stood in the middle of the room with your hands clasped behind your back, waiting for them to address you.

“Nice to see you it is.” Master yoda said. “A task for you, we have.”

A task? What could they possibly want you to do? There was no way they’d be sending you on a mission, they never did.

“We want you to travel to Onderon. They are celebrating their liberation from the separatists. I don’t know why but Anakin and Obi Wan would like for you to be present-” Before Mace can finish his sentence he is cut off.

“I believe what Master Windu is trying to say is that they would both like for you to experience what our galaxy has to offer.” Shaak Ti answered for him. “There will be other Jedi there too, but you will be traveling on your own.” She said. “Oh, and please keep in mind, this celebration is also being held in remembrance for Steela, their fallen leader.”

“Understood, may I leave now?” Master Yoda gave you a nod, allowing you to leave. You made your way to the hangar, Kaytee following close behind you. Well, it looks like it was time to see Anakin again.

-

O N D E R O N

Your journey to Onderon is short, but you take the time to fiddle with Kaytee. Cleaning her up to make her look presentable. Weeks after you were gifted the droid, you took the time to fix her up and reprogram her to your liking. With the touch of a button, you could make her record a hologram, send her your location, or gouge out someone's eye if needed. You truly did love your droid, and you thanked the stars that Stark taught you how to code, program, and build trinkets of your own.

Kaytee lands the ship with a heavy thud, “I know you're excited to see Artoo, but we need to be careful with this ship. It’s not ours.” You told her, and in return you get a series of apologetic beeps. The door opens with a hiss, you signal for Kaytee to follow you. Stepping off, you notice all of the other ships outside of Iziz. It was like all the entirety of the galactic senate was here, which you really didn’t doubt. You felt out of place in your Jedi robes. People were arriving in magnificent, mind blowing outfits. Gowns with tails that trailed far behind them and tuxes with flowy capes. This ball was going to have it all.

The bustle of the market only intensified with the oncomers. You had to make your way to the temple before you got distracted. By the time you reached the temple doors, the crowd lessened, or so you thought. Entering the temple, you were greeted at the sight of hundreds of people. You felt blood rush to your cheeks as people began to turn and stare at you. Screw the Jedi Council for not giving me a nice outfit to change into. Just as you were about to turn around and wander through the market, you heard your voice being called out. You tried to find where the sound was coming from, only to get confused and jolt your head around violently as if you were a loth cat.

“Alyra! Over here!.” Your feet began moving on their own accord. As if you were being drawn to a presence. You come to a screeching halt in front of.. Anakin, of course it's him. Why am I not surprised that the force has literally brought me to him? Along with Obi Wan, R2, and Padme. Oh my god, wait, it’s Padme. I could kiss her right now if I wanted to. But I won’t. That would be weird, won’t it. Kissing her in front of her husband, who is my-

“Alyra, are you alright?” Obi Wan asks, breaking you out of your internal ramble.

“Yeah, I was just...trying to take all of this in. I’ve never seen anything like this.” You responded, pretending to look around the temple.

“It seems like you space out a lot.” He jokes, a smile on his face before he realizes no one else is laughing. He rolls his eyes before continuing, “Anyways, welcome to Onderon. This is my good friend, Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo.” He turns to face her while he introduces you to her. You hold out a hand, expecting for her to shake it. Instead she walks up to you and takes you within her hold. She hugs you tightly, you can feel her protruding belly.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you! Anakin has talked a lot about you.” Both you and Obi Wan furrow your brows at the mention of Anakin speaking of you. Padme is quick to notice this and corrects herself, “I mean of what he’s mentioned to me about you today. Right, Ani?” She validates.

“Yeah, only good things though.” He testified, avoiding your gaze. It was weird that he was mentioning you to his pregnant wife, what was there to talk about? Not to mention the fact that he had been avoiding your presence for months now.

You squinted your eyes at him, “I could only hope so, seeing as though we haven’t spoken in awhile.” you accused. What in the world is he up to now?

You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to come up with a comeback, before he can utter a word, he’s interrupted by Padme.

“C’mon, let’s go to your room and get you changed.” Once again, you furrow your brows.

“Changed, what do you mean changed?” You ask her.

“What, did you think I’d just let you roam around the ball in those ugly Jedi robes? Come, I’ll let you borrow one of my dresses.” She drags you away by the arm, Anakin and Obi Wan shouting at her. Something about Jedi robes not being ugly, you couldn’t really hear with Padme’s giggles silencing them. Kaytee let’s out a giggle of her own as she follows you, Artoo’s personality rubbing off on her.

Padmé all but practically throws you onto your bed as she ushers one of her handmaidens, Teckla, to bring the dresses into your room. Teckla wheels in a rack filled with elegant looking dresses, along with a bunch of different heels. All looking like they could snap your ankle in half if you walked the wrong way. The first dress she hands you is body conforming up until it reaches your knees, from there it fans out creating a mermaid gown effect. While the dress itself was very beautiful, you thought of it to be too plain for an event like this. You and Padme both share a look before agreeing that this was in fact not the dress.

However, the next dress she hands you is a proper ball gown. You slip it on, taken aback by how heavy the dress was. She walks up behind you to tighten the corset of the gown. She does her best to tighten it up without hurting you, but you can’t help let out a wheeze as she gets closer to tying it off.

“Sorry, as much as I love this dress, I also hate it. I’m so glad I’m pregnant so I don’t have to feel it stabbing me at every given chance.” She said, breaking the silence.

“How many months are you?” You asked.

“I’m six months along now, almost seven.” She finishes tying up the corset before stepping aside. “What do you think?”

“Well, it certainly is fit for an event like this and I do think it’s beautiful. But it’s crushing me with every breath I take. I feel like if I sit down, I won’t be able to get back up.”

“Right, well I can fix that.” This time she takes her time picking out the next dress. She lets her fingers brush across the different fabrics, stopping at one that caught her eye. “Here, try this one!” She suggests. By the look on her face, you can already tell that this is the one. The dress is flowy and soft looking. You step into the dress, pleased to find yourself correct. It feels like you have nothing on. Padme helps you zip the dress up, along with clasping together the leather pieces. The light blue tulle layered over the dark blue, almost purple material complimented your skin tone. The dress had a deep v-neck, showing off your cleavage. Right below your collarbone laid a strap of leather, connecting to either side of your thick shoulder straps. From those straps, a thin piece of tulle was stitched on, giving you two separate mini capes for your arms. Aside from a strap of leather covering your spine, the dress is completely backless. It feels like you could go frolicking in this dress. Who am I kidding, Padme probably went frolicking in this dress with Anakin.

“So, what do you think?” Her tone is hushed, as if she was trying to figure out whether you hated or loved the dress.

“It’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” You respond. “Kaytee, what do you reckon?” The droid let’s out a series of delights beeps, showing her contentment towards the dress.

“Great!” Padmé says before ushering you into a chair. “Now, we're going to do your hair and makeup. So sit still.” For once in your life, you shut up and sit still, allowing Padme to work her magic.

“Do you know the gender?” You asked, your question breaking the silence, and while the atmosphere wasn’t exactly awkward, it wasn’t comfortable either.

“Oh no, I’d rather not. It’s not like it matters to me anyways. As long as my child is happy and healthy, then so am I. But it’s ironic because I haven’t been to a check up yet.” Padme gently pulls your hair back, leaving two pieces in the front to frame your face. It was simple, not taking any attention away from the dress.

No check up? Maybe that’s why Padme didn’t know she was having twins. “So you haven’t seen a doctor or a medical droid yet?” Your eyes follow her as she pulls makeup out of her bag, her collection vast.

“No, not really. I don’t have very much time to myself due to the fact that I’m a part of the senate. But I do my best to make sure I stay healthy for my baby and me. I also just want it to be a surprise.” Padme finds a foundation shade similar to your skin tone and blends it in.

“What if you have twins? What will you do then?” You probably weren’t supposed to be asking her questions like these, but you couldn’t help it. Maybe you should’ve asked why she had so much makeup instead.

“Well..” She sighed while blotting powder all over your face. “..I suppose if it happens, then it happens. It’s the will of the force.” She finishes powdering your face before moving to your eyebrows. Padme takes an angled brow brush and begins to fill them in, giving it a naturally fuller look.

“So, you believe in the force?”

“How could I not? I work so closely with the Jedi, I’ve seen what you guys have done. The father is very close friends with the Jedi.” Padme said, implying that the father was in fact a Jedi. It felt like you were intruding, but then again, you weren’t necessarily forcing her to tell you this. You had only met her moments ago and she already trusted you enough with her secrets.

“Really? I thought the Jedi weren’t allowed to form attachments?”

“Oh… we weren’t really together. It was sort of a one night thing. But he’s going to be in the child’s life.” She covered up.

The conversation went on like that for a while before Padme announced that she was finished with you. After finishing your makeup and adding some finishing touches to your hair, she finally stepped aside, letting you see yourself in the mirror.

The second you saw yourself, your mouth fell open in shock. You looked absolutely ethereal. Padme kept your makeup very natural to bring out your features. She also added small, white flowers into your hair. You excitedly thanked her and got up to hug her as a way to show your gratitude.

“Shall we get going now?” She offered

“Oh, if it was alright with you, I was going to stay behind. I have to contact somebody.” You asked

“Of course, I’ll see you later then.” She said before gathering all of her belongings and leaving with Teckla. As Padme arrives, Anakin notices that you weren’t with her.

“Where’s Alyra?” He asked her, eager to see what she would look like out of her Jedi robes.

“She said she had to talk to someone.”

Meanwhile, in your room you were getting ready to call Peter. Honestly, you had no idea if you had connection on Onderon, but you were about to find out. Taking off your necklace, you were pleased to see the green light, indicating that you were indeed connected to the bridge. You scroll through your contacts before finding Peter’s name. You hit the dial button and wait for it to connect.

-

E A R T H

Peter is sleeping when he gets a call, the bracelet on his left hand vibrating. He thinks nothing of it and almost declines the call. That is until he realizes it’s you calling on the bracelet he had designated just for you. He jumps up from his sleeping position and quickly answers your call. Peter can’t help but let out a gasp of awe the very second your face pops onto the hologram.

“What? Is there something on my face?” You move closer towards the camera and inspect your face, only to find no flaws.

“Nothing...it’s just been so long since I’ve seen you like this.”

“Like what?” Your eyebrows scrunch together, the confusion clear on your face.

“All… dolled up.” Peter’s response makes your face blush a hot red. You let out a shy laugh as your hand comes to rest at the back of your neck. He was right, it had been so long since you’ve felt this pretty. It felt good, for once you had felt good.

“Thanks, Pete. It feels good to be in something other than Jedi robes.”

“Not that I’m saying you can’t be dressed up like this, but exactly why are you so dressed up?” He pondered, he knew it wasn’t like the Jedi to go about their duties in exquisite gowns.

“I’m actually on Onderon.” You pan the camera towards the view outside of your window. “The Jedi have invited me to a celebration of Onderon’s liberation. But also in memory of Steela I believe. I really wish you were here with me. I still don’t understand why they couldn’t have sent both of us.”

“I miss you too, but you know I have a duty here on Earth.”

“Duty? So did I Peter!”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. With me being Spiderman-”

“It’s not like they don’t have any other superheroes. I mean come on, admit it! You know more about Star Wars than I possibly could. You should be here with me.” You huff out before changing the subject, “Anyways, how are you? Did you end up fixing things with MJ?”

“I’m fine, but no, we didn’t. We both agreed that we’d be better off as friends. Besides I’ve already moved on.” He confessed, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. It’s now or never Peter, you’ve gotta tell her.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about your split. But hopefully you and this new person will work out-”

“It’s you.” He says, abruptly cutting you off. Peter watches you tilt your head as your brows scrunch together again.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s you,” He repeats, taking a deep breath before speaking again, “It’s always been you. I didn’t realize it until you had left… I didn’t think I could miss someone so much.”

“Peter…. I don’t know what to say.” You uttered out,

“Please, say something- anything.” He begged, hoping he hadn’t just ruined years of friendship. Peter watches as you open and close your mouth, searching for the right words.

“...I can’t.” You say as you shake your head. “I can’t be with you, Peter.”

“Why? Is it because of my age? Come on, Y/N, I’m only two years younger than you.” He pleads

“It’s not that. You’re just not the right person for me, Peter. I know it in my very soul.”

“Oh yeah? And who is, Anakin?” He taunts, he can feel his eyes water as he watches you look away from him. “No freakin’ way. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Peter lets out a scoff.

“You’ve got to understand Pete, I love him. I really do.”

“NO! You don’t love him. You’re just obsessed with him. You think you can save him but you can’t! No one can! You can’t change his destiny.”

“What do you even know about love? You can’t tell me who I can and can’t love. It doesn’t work like that. You know nothing about it-”

“I LOVE YOU!” He screams, breaking the silence in his Queen’s apartment, surely waking up May. “Why isn’t that enough?” Peter watches as tears slowly stream down your face as he lets out a few of his own.

“I’ve got to see this out until the end, you know that Peter...I could only wish that it was enough, but it’s not. You’re like a brother to me, don’t do this to me. To our friendship...I’ve got to go now.”

“No, you don’t get to leave again-”

“I’m sorry, goodbye, Peter.” You end the call and Peter is left staring at the wall, mouth hung open in shock. He couldn’t believe this just happened to him. He faintly makes out the sound of Aunt May knocking on his door.

Without waiting for a response, she cracks open his door. She takes notice of the tears falling off of his face and closes her mouth. Aunt May is silent as she makes her way across his room, holding her arms out for him. Peter gratuitously accepts her embrace, his sobs muffled by her clothes.

No words are spoken as Peter cries his heart out, never in a million years did he think you’d be the one to break him.

--

collide tags: @deepcollectionmagazine​ @amesstm​ @haileyybird​

[darling-i-read-it]

Kaiseki

2x01

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, mental health problems, jail, angst

Author’s Note: Season! Two! This may be a little harder cause Will is in jail and it’s to big a plot point to change. But i love will graham so much dudes. I hope you guys enjoy!

I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar. Those sentences are not mine. 

Official Episode Summary : The psychological thriller based on the Hannibal Lecter legend returns. FBI profiler Will Graham has been framed for Lecter's crimes and wants revenge. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List: @llperfectsymmetryll​

(not my gif)

“Kaiseki. A Japanese art form that honors the taste and aesthetic of what we eat,” Hannibal said to Jack Crawford as he sat at his table. The lighting of the room was pleasing but also semi threatening. Not that Jack noticed. He wasn’t very good at noticing things. Hannibal himself had noticed that. 

“I feel guilty eating it,” Jack said, looking down at the dish. It was amazingly well put together. It was no surprise that Hannibal had done it.

“I never feel guilty eating anything,” Hannibal said with a small mischievous smile. Jack took a bite and chewed a bit. 

“Can’t quite place the fish.”

“He was a flounder. I last prepared this meal for my Aunt Murasaki under similarly unfortunate circumstances,” Hannibal said. Jack waited for him to go on and when he didn’t he nodded.

“What circumstances were those?” Hannibal shrugged.

“A loss. This is a loss. Will is a loss. We’re mourning a death,” Hannibal said gently. 

“Will’s ‘death’ is on me,” Jack said. Hannibal took a bite of his food and chewed for a moment, considering this.

“It’s on both of us.” 

“I doubt that Y/N would consider you had anything to do with it,” Jack suggested. Hannibal smiled a tad at the mention of your name and the fact that you likely wouldn’t suggest Hannibal was much to blame.

“I tended to be kinder to her and more compassionate to Will,” he said. 

“Abigail thought that you liked them both a bit more,” Jack said chuckling. Hannibal shrugged. 

“We’re all friends.”

“Do you have friends Hannibal?” Hannibal shrugged.

“I had Will. And of course Y/N.” Jack pointed his fork at Hannibal.

“I don’t understand how you managed to stay in her good graces.” 

“I suppose she had about as many friends as I did.” 

“I still can’t comprehend it. Will’s gonna be convicted of five murders. I’ll be convicted of one,” Jack muttered.

“You’re not on trial.”

“I will be. In the halls of the FBI. So will you. According to Will Graham, this was all you. Another place where I’m not sure why Y/N continues to see you.”

“Will was your bloodhound. You can’t ignore where he points.” Hannibal smiled at his plate. “And I do believe you’ll be on a trail in her mind as well.” Jack sighed.

“What’s one more person to convict me,” Jack said.

-

Alana stood beside you. You had a few papers in your hand. The only reason you were still Hannibal’s secretary at all was so that you could have the hours off to come and advocate for Will. Alana handed you another piece of paper and you looked over it. 

“You’re a goddess Alana,” you muttered. In your hands you held all the complaints and disagreements Alana had ever had with Jack about Will. Behind the scenes she had been formally sending in a few letters when she believed, like you, that Will should not have been put into the field.

“You can give Jack all the hell you want but until the FBI looks into it, nothing will happen. And Will’s entire life has changed due to Jack’s actions. It deserves to be documented.” You nodded, a smile gracing your face. She put her hand on your cheek and made you look at her which you did. “You don’t look so good.” 

“Yeah well,” you shrugged. “This has put a rare smile on my face,” you promised. She pursed her lips. She looked into your eyes and moved her hand away but she still looked concerned.

“I’m doing everything in my power to make sure that Will Graham has a fair trial and that he isn’t convicted.”

“Because you think he did it but he wasn’t in the right mind,” you muttered.

“You do too right?”

“I don’t think he did it period.” She shook her head.

“Then who did? And don't’ say Hannibal otherwise I’m going to have to throw you in the hospital.” You shook your head. You felt tired. You hadn’t been getting much sleep. It was probably an attachment issue when it came down to it.  Not being able to sleep beside Will was harder than you thought it would be. The bed always felt cold. Other than that, you had been worried about Will here. Your mind wandered when you tried to sleep about everything that was going through his head. You had the dogs. He had Frederick Chilton. 

“I don’t know who did it Alana. I would like to converse with my boyfriend about that but Chilton has limited visiting hours the bastard.” 

“I’ll try and talk with him. We’re sort of friendly. I think I yelled at him about something a while back but he doesn’t seem to remember it.” You nodded and handed her back the papers on Jack.

“Make him pay.” She nodded.

“I will.”

-

The phone rang as you sat on the porch with the dogs. Winston sat in front of you while the others played and whined at the door. He had been doing that on and off since Will was arrested. You picked up the phone and pet Winston, trying your best to calm him down. 

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Bev said. You tried to make some emotion come out when you spoke next but nothing emerged.

“Hey.” Bev cleared her throat. You didn’t want to fight her. You truly had no interest in it. In fact, Bev had always been in your corner so the worry that she might not be today would have made your heart hurt if it wasn’t already pretty numb with bitterness.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing,” she said. 

“As well as you may expect. But I appreciate you calling.” She hummed.

“I’m sorry this happened. I know you didn’t ever agree with Jack.” You scoffed.

“You could say that again.” She laughed lightly.

“I’m going to see Will soon. For help on this case. Jack doesn’t know. But I kinda wanted to tell you first so that he didn’t tell you and then you were by default pissed at me.” You weren’t very pleased to hear that but there wasn’t much else you could do.

“I would go in saying you support him or something. He might help you more.” 

“Thank you.” 

-

Hannibal noticed you at the desk. He wasn’t having many patients and didn’t expect to see you. You still had on your coat and looked like you weren’t staying. But still, you looked over the computer and let out a sigh.

“Do you need something?” he asked. You looked up, surprised to see him. He also didn’t look like he was staying. “I thought I gave you a few days off.” He knew he did. He did it explicitly.

“I just thought I left the necklace Will gave me here. I guess not. It’s probably in his car but I have no idea where he put the keys,” you said and laughed dryly in remembrance of sweeter times. “Where are you off to?” 

“I have to go and see a crime scene,” he said. Your eyes went wide and another dry laugh left your lips.

“Nice to see you ‘the new Will Graham’,” you muttered.

“I don’t think Jack intended it to be like that.” You shook your head.

“No because you can’t be nearly as good at it as Will was.” Hannibal was the only person to notice the shift in your emotions correctly. Not from happy to sad. It was from normal to bitter. He would likely see the same shift in Will Graham if he decided to go see him.

“Would you like to come?”

“Is that the best idea? Doing my boyfriends old job with Jack Crawford watching me like I was going to slip up at any given second?” Hannibal shrugged.

“Perhaps it would be good for you. Step where Will once did.” You shook your head.

“Thanks Hannibal but I can’t today. Maybe another murder.” 

“Off to see Will?” 

“Off to attempt to see Will. Perhaps have a fist fight with Frederick Chilton. I’ll decide in the car.” Hannibal laughed lowly and walked over to you. He put a hand on your arm and you leaned into his touch, happy someone was touching you. 

“If you ever need a dinner,” he started and you nodded.

“I’ll call.”

“You’re not worried about what Will says about me are you?” he asked. You shrugged.

“I don't know yet. I just have to talk to him.” Hannibal nodded and you looked up at him. “I care about you Hannibal.” He was silent for a moment and then hugged you, placing his hand on the back of your head. 

“I care about you as well.” And for once, Hannibal was not lying. 

-

Chilton shook his head.

“You will only hinder his therapy,” he said simply. You shook your head and walked up to his desk. 

“Do you think for one second I would do anything that could cause Will to be this bad ever again? I can’t simply not see him.” 

“What if he doesn’t want to see you?” Chilton asked. You were stumped at that. Your face fell.

“Did he say that?”

“Not in so many words. Just maybe that it would be better for you to live a life on your own.” You shook your head and a small smile went over your lips.

“You’re lying.” 

“How would you know?”

“Because I know Will Graham better than anyone in this whole world and he is just conceited and rude enough to tell you to go to hell before saying that about me.” Chilton looked up at you from his spot behind his desk. You stared hard into his eyes.

“Alright,” he muttered. “Once a week. Thirty minutes.” You nodded, happy your point had been made. “Come back tomorrow.” You nodded and turned around, taking your small victory with you out the door.

-

“How was Dr. Bloom’s visit?” Hannibal asked. He sat across from Chilton at dinner in his home. 

“He asked her to hypnotize him to recover memories. This is delicious,” he muttered, pointing at the food. 

“Was he successful?”

“Only in playing Dr. Bloom. It’s sad to see a brilliant psychiatrist fall for such hoary old chestnuts,” Chilton said simply.

“She wants to believe him. I do, too.” Chilton looked disappointed at that and looked down at his plate, then back at Hannibal.

“Will’s girlfriend paid me a visit earlier. She seems like a piece of work. I understand why they go so well together.” Hannibal shrugged. Chilton could tell he was acting as though he were indifferent despite clearly having a side. He just wasn't sure which side that was.

“She’s stubborn but rightly so,” Hannibal said.

“What, you think I should let her see him? I agreed to once a week but I’m still on the fence.” Chilton chewed on a bite.

“I don’t see how it could hurt. In fact, if you plan to utilize the cameras and audio you might get something out of it,” Hannibal suggested. He was very aware that Chilton wanted nothing to do with something he couldn’t get a thing out of. 

Chilton thought this over.

“Perhaps I could give her a few extra minutes. If you think that would be wise.” Hannibal shrugged.

“Maybe I could think about it.”

-

Hannibal sat in the car with you outside of the hospital.

“Will has made accusations against me. Very serious ones,” Hannibal said. 

“Again, I’ll make up my mind about those when I talk with him.” You weren’t sure why you were so nervous. It was just Will. You weren’t scared of Will or anything. Perhaps it was the anticipation.

“But bear in mind who you know me to be,” he said. You nodded and thought really hard about what you knew Hannibal to be. 

“You hid the fact that Abigail killed someone,” you muttered. “Who says you weren’t the murderer after all?” 

“You and Will also hid that. Perhaps you’re the murderer.” 

“If I was the murderer Jack Crawford would be sprawled very neatly across a particular place,” you muttered bitterly. 

“I don’t doubt that,” Hannibal said chuckling. You turned to him and he held your hand, squeezing it once. “Best of luck.” 

You got out of the car.

-

The walk to the cell was a long one. It was odd, the anticipation of knowing Will was so close. When he came into view his eyes were closed. At the sound of your footsteps they opened.

He turned to you slowly and you smiled subtly.

“Where were you?” 

“Fishing,” he whispered. 

“Sorry I interrupted.” He shook his head. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.” You walked up to the bars and put your hands on them. He did the same, your hands touching. He was warm but not boiling as he had been when he had that nasty fever.

“I only have like, 30 minutes.” He nodded. 

“Step back to the white line ma’am!” the guard at the end of the hall called. You turned around but didn’t move an inch. 

“No!” you called back. Will laughed dryly. 

“You’re supposed to be scared of me,” he whispered. You shook your head.

“Ma’am!” The guards walked over to you and you shook your head angrily, stepping back to the line, so far away from Will. But you didn’t want to be kicked out. 

“I’m not scared of him,” you said to the guard. 

“Doesn’t matter. The white line,” he said to you. You nodded stiffly and he walked away. The distance felt greater than it really was. When the guard closed the door at the end of the hall you stepped back to the bars. 

“You’ve never followed any rules have you?” he asked, laughing. 

“Not once. Now go on.” 

“I resurfaced a memory.” You nodded, gesturing for him to go on. “Chilton can hear us.” 

“That was the memory?”

“No,” he said and laughed a bit. “Just telling you we need to be quiet.” You nodded. “Hannibal shoved that ear down my throat.”

“Abigails?”

“No the other one.” You nodded, accepting your ignorance. 

“And you think he did all this?” 

“I know that they already looked at him and Beverly looked over everything but I know he did this. When i remember what happened to me I can tell you more.” You looked at the ground.

“Did he do stuff to you while I was in the other room?” Will shook his head.

“Don’t blame yourself.”

“I do. I blame myself for letting this happen and if Hannibal, no matter how much I like him, did this to you than how can I ever-”

“Just don’t trust him.” 

“He’s all I have out there. Him and Alana. And the dogs.”

“How are the dogs?” he asked. 

“Winston misses you. Sometimes he thinks he misses you more than I do,” you whispered. 

“You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping.”

“Neither do you. But I like not cutting the hair,” you muttered and messed with his curls. He gripped your hand tighter around the bar. “I wish you could come home.”

“Me too. Honestly.”

“Soon,” you promised. “Alana has some things she wants to look into.”

“And I keep firing lawyers.”

“FBI lawyers,” you corrected. “I would too.” You looked at your watch and he glanced over to it as well.

“20 more minutes,” he whispered. His eyes caught yours and he gestured for you to sit down. You both did. “Tell me about your day.”

2x02

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Rings

Title: Rings

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1957

Square Filled: Fake Marriage

Summary: “What happens when the right guy comes along, see’s that ring, and high tails it out here?” – “I never thought about that. I guess, if he’s the right one, he’d stick around long enough to find out that the ring is a fake.”

Warnings: Fluff, Dash of Angst, Douche Bags, Rifle, Threats, Drunk Guys, Gross Guys, Some Explicit Language, and Lying…

Written for @spndeanbingo​

Disclaimer: Not my gif.

A/N: I am really proud of this fic. I feel like it’s not exactly what you’d expect from the Fake Marriage trope. At least, that’s what I think. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! This last fic concludes my SPN Dean Bingo 2019 Card! I made it just in time!! Happy Reading!! xx

The day had been a total shit show, and all you wanted to do was to have a seat at a bar, have someone else make your drinks, and get hammered! Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was. You’d only been in the, over twenty-one, establishment for merely ten minutes and there had already been one guy that had the nerve to interrupt your “me time,” and now thirty minutes in, another dumbass was trying to talk you up.

“Hey there good lookin’. You seem a little stressed. Can I buy you another drink?”

“Sorry pal, I just want to be alone,” you told him, not bothering to give him a second glance (not that you gave him a first one.)

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be shy, let me just one drink?” He persisted.

“Seriously, I’m good right now,” you tried to remain calm.

“Alright, but if you change your mind, my friends and I are sitting by the juke box. Feel free to join us at any time,” he whispered, as if he thought he was being seductive. It was quite the opposite. His breath was rancid, and the stench coming off of him was just as criminal. You wondered how he could live with himself smelling like roadkill!

“Thanks,” was your only reply, letting out a heavy sigh when he left.

“Some guys just can’t take a hint,” the bartender tsked, her hands placed on the bar top in front of you. You looked up to meet the older lady looking past you, most likely at the group of guys that pig was hanging around with. “Mmm,” she hummed, a look of disgust in her face, “those fellas are one repulsive bunch aren’t they?”

A small smile cracked on your lips, glad that someone was on your side, not that anyone was against you to begin with, but still… this woman just made you feel a little better and you appreciated it.

“You didn’t smell him…” you murmured, slightly shaking your head side to side with trauma.

The older woman laughed. “The name is Ellen. I’m the owner of this bar.”

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come in hear before,” the older woman stated. “And if you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look like the type to come into dive bars. What happened?”

Letting out a defeated sigh, you met her chocolate brown eyes. “Figured going to a bar was a thing to do when shit hits the fan and you just want to drink it all away. I mean, I see it happen all the time in the movies, so I thought… why not? There’s a first time for everything. The only thing that’s different is that the main character in the movies don’t have to deal with drunk gross guys. The girl usually meets that cool mysterious strangers in a suit or leather jacket.”

Ellen laughed at your perception on bars. “Sweetheart, real life ain’t like the movies. Real life actually sucks. So… I have to asked,” she started, “why are you here instead of with your man?”

You looked up at her confused. “Man?”

“The ring. Your husband,” Ellen clarified.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “Oh… that.”

“Yeah, that. What’s the deal? You don’t seem very happy.”

“Honestly, I don’t have a husband. I got out of a nasty relationship a while back and have sworn off men for the time being,” you confessed. “This is fake ring I bought off of Amazon. I wear it to ward off guys, which apparently doesn’t work on idiots.”

“What happens when the right guy comes along, see’s that ring, and high tails it out here?” Ellen question, the notion not once crossing your mind.

“I never thought about that. I guess, if he’s the right one, he’d stick around long enough to find out that the ring is a fake,” you shrugged, hoping your answer made enough sense to her, and you.

“Well, I wish you good luck kiddo,” Ellen smiled before having to help another customer.

Through the night, you got to know more about Ellen and the bar. The bar had been her late husband’s dream, but he unfortunately passed before he could even begin to see it’s possibility. In tribute and remembrance of the love of her life, she bought the bar, fixed it up, threw their name in front of it, “Harvelle’s”,  in blinking lights, and eventually it also became her dream. She and her daughter ran the joint, along with a few employees.

You were working on your third drink of the night, trading in your whiskey for a fruity cocktail drink this time – a strawberry daiquiri. Honestly. You were a little surprised that a small town dive bar had it on the menu, but you didn’t spend too much time thinking about it. You just wanted to enjoy the slight buzz you were feeling.

As you sipped your cocktail, a large figure planted themselves beside your left, but you didn’t bother to acknowledge their presence. All you hoped was that whoever it was, would leave you alone. The only company worthy of your attention was Ellen, your new found friend.

“Hi, what’s your name?”

You rolled your eyes at the interruption. “Sorry, I’m married,” you lifted your hand, exposing the evident ring on your finger.

“I don’t mind,” his hand closed over yours.

At that moment, you snapped, snatching your hand from his grasp and shooting him a death glare. “What kind of woman do you take me for?” You asked with offense. The man next to you was burly, with a beard like a homeless man, shirt wrinkled and most likely unwashed, and his hair was greasy. Why did you always attract the uncivilized ones?

“The kind of woman that likes to have fun,” he wiggled his eyebrows, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Please, just leave me alone,” you told him, bringing your attention back to your drink.

“Oh, c’mon. Let me show you a good time. You might be surprised at how much you’ll like it… and I know you’ll really like it,” he cooed, his tone over suggestive.

“Seriously, back—”

Before you could finish, another man showed up. “Didn’t you hear the woman say she’s married?” The new stranger hissed, slamming his left hand down on the bar top, a gold band around his ring finger. “Now, I suggest you back off of my wife before you get yourself hurt.”

You were shocked to say the least. This stranger was different than all the men you’ve come across the whole day. From your pig of a boss, to the scumbags littering the bar, this man was something else. He was dangerously handsome, scruff littering his jaw, emerald eyes hard and demanding, and god… he smelled good… and looked good. His expansive chest and shoulders clad in red plaid, which was definitely his color.

Wow.

“You think I’m afraid of you?” The disgusting man barked, standing to his full height. He was much larger than the handsome stranger, who didn’t seem to be scared at all. “You think a small fella like you can take me?”

It was true. The guy was much bigger than Mr. Smell’s so Delicious. He towered him several inches.

“I’ve taken down bigger,” Mr. Gorgeous Green Eyes scoffed unfazed.

The gross guy took a step forward and Sex God in Plaid didn’t flinch one bit. If you were being honest with yourself, you found yourself getting a little turned on.

“Alright, cut the crap,” Ellen came barreling in, a rifle in hand. “This is my bar and I will not condone to any sort of rough housing.” The asshole took a step back, but your Knight in Shining Armor didn’t seem at all worried. “You…” Ellen’s spoke to the creep, “… you and your buddies has harassed this poor girl long enough. Pay your bill and get out, before I shoot every single one of you between the legs. Her husband is here and she no longer needs your company.”

The beautiful stranger draped his arm over your shoulder protectively, staring down the creeper. “You heard the nice the lady, get out!” He growled.

The man didn’t hesitate to hightail it back to his group of friends. You watched as they quickly pulled out several bills before rushing out of the establishment. Your jaw dropped in surprise, thoroughly impressed at how both Ellen and Mysterious Perfection handled the situation.

“You alright?” the deepness of his voice vibrated through your body, causing heat to crawl up your cheeks.

“Uh.. y-yeah. I mean, yes. Thank you,” you offered a small smile. God, he was so handsome it almost made it hard to even look at him.

“Y/N, this is my nephew Dean. Dean this is my new friend Y/N. Take care of her for the night would’ya? She thinks life is supposed to be like those romantic comedy movies,” she teased, sending you a wink.

The action did nothing to settle your nerves or alleviate the tension raking over your body. In fact, she made it worse.

“A rom-com chick? Oh, no,” he laughed. “Should I be worried?”

The playful tone in his voice surprisingly put you at ease. “What’s wrong with rom-coms?” You scoffed, nudging his arm off your shoulder. “Don’t you have a wife you should be attending to?”

“A wife? Nah. I’m a free man, Y/N,” Dean gloated, taking a seat beside you. If he didn’t just save you from that douche, you would think he was an arrogant ass, but something about him told you that he was a genuinely good guy. Plus, if Ellen was entrusting him to take care of you, he must be a good man.

“Then what’s with the ring?”

Dean chuckled. “It belonged to my father. He passed away to cancer a few years back,” he confessed.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you suddenly became timid.

“He wasn’t the greatest father, but he did his best you know? Besides, if it wasn’t for him, me and my brother wouldn’t be the people we are today. Little brother is a lawyer and I’ve got my own chain of auto shops around the country.”

“Wow. Impressive.”

“I guess. All that matters is that I’m pretty happy, you know? Anyways, what’s your story? Where’s your husband?”

This time, it was your turn to laugh. “Not married either. I swore of men a couple of years ago after I was humiliatingly dumped from my ex-fiancé. He cheated on me with his boss. When I called our relationship off, he took the ring and everything else. All he left me was my car and what ever was left of my dignity… which let me tell you, isn’t much.”

“Fuck. That’s harsh. What a douche bag!”

“Tell me about it,” you puffed out in defeat.

“Ah, screw him. You deserve better anyway. A tough girl like you don’t need a weak man like him.”

“Oh yeah? And what kind of man do I deserve?” you taunted, giving him your full attention.

A sly smirk stretched across his face. “Let me take you out tomorrow and I’ll show you.”

“Smooth,” you giggled, and Dean was laughing too.

“I’m serious. Let me take you out. You won’t regret it.”

You looked up at him with a wide smile on your face. “I have the utmost confidence that I won’t.”

Dean grinned. “Looks like we got ourselves a hot date!”

Again, you couldn’t control the laughter bubbling inside of you. He was a dork and you found it being far more attractive than you expected. You were looking forwards to that date.

Looks like it was time for the ring to come off.

--

A/N: My SPN Dean Bingo 2019 Card is officially complete! YAY! I hope you all liked the fics, and I hope you liked this last installment! If you did, please like and reblog! Leave some feedback! I would really appreciate it! Stay beautiful everyone! xx

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 60

Chapter 60 WHOOT WHOOT! 60 days ago I started this journey with only 2 followers, and now I have 337! I can’t thank you all enough 😭It means so much to me that you all like my little world. 

Warning, PLEASE CHECK TAGS IF YOU SEE SOMETHING YOU DON’T WANT TO READ THEN DON’T READ. Tag lists are closed

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Will tag as I go along, Will update tags, Slow Burn, Influenced by Star Trek and other Sci-Fi themes, References to We Happy Few, Tons of References and quotes to George Orwells 1984 see if you can find them all, The First Order is the new Big Brother,  but who is really surprised, Blatant Nazi Symbolism, Interrogation Themes, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Really just drawn out Slow Burn, Don’t repost without permission, Torture themes, Suggestive Themes, Execution themes, Disturbing Themes, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Controlling Kylo Ren, Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Possessive Kylo Ren, A character shamelessly based on Zelda

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 60: First Lady

The general was waiting for you as you both sat down. Kylo and the general sat opposite of you. The lieutenant came up to join you. The general looked at Kylo, who nodded and began, “We are here to discuss your duties as First Lady of the First Order. An inaugural role that has not been done before in the history of the galaxy.”

He paused to make sure you were paying attention and understanding the gravity of the position. You nodded to signal him to continue.

“As the First Lady of the First Order, you have many duties, some more obvious than others. First, you act as the identity of the First Order, the face in which our people will rely upon and trust. You are the focus of unity and pride. The person who gives a sense of stability and continuity to the First Order. You are the official recognition for success and excellence. And you are to support the ideal of voluntary service.”

You were to be the complete face of the First Order. Not Kylo, who is hidden behind his mask, but you. “So you are asking me to be like the queen of England,” you asked trying to make sense of your role.

“Yes, in many ways, except you have actual power when you want it. While she is unable to make decisions for the United Kingdom in its entirety, as that power now belongs to parliament, you do. The only person who can override your decisions is the Supreme Leader himself.”

You watched as Kylo nodded along to what the general was saying.

“You shall be in charge of official First Order Social events like the formal dinner that we just had, and ceremonial events like commissioning of new destroyers and bases. You shall present titles of high honor within the First Order Military, and any civilian titles. You may also preside over military ceremonies such as remembrances of historic galactic battles, and major retirements.”

Your eyes grew wide at the list of things you would be responsible for. The general could see the look of hesitation on your face as you were processing everything.

“Of course you won’t have to do everything alone. You shall have a team of people to help you, one of which is the lieutenant,” he then gestured to Mitaka sitting next to you. “And a few others, you shall not have to handle everything yourself, but you will essentially be supervising it all. You will also be handling many correspondences which will go through your team, and you will be a patron of many charities. We will need to announce a charity today as a start. That is a decision we can make together, so you do not have to make it alone.”

You sat back in your chair as you started to process everything. Your life has shifted from working a 9-5 job, to doing very little with your time, to now being a head of state all in the matter of a month. Less than a month ago you were wondering who Kylo Ren was and now you were to be leading the largest government in the galaxy with him. Leading a group of people you had no idea existed. Being a face to the galaxy when you were perfectly content to just be friends with your match and living a life alone.

You felt his hold on your mind once more, the worry that you felt dissipated. You don’t know whether or not you should be comforted by this or horrified. He was in your mind messing with things.

‘There is nothing to be afraid of Kitten. You will do great. This is one of the big steps in becoming an empress, my empress.’

Something about the way he said that you would be his empress made your belly warm. A spark of desire to be something powerful to him.

You could feel his tendrils of hold swirling with that desire in your mind. Playing with it, caressing it. You closed your eyes at the feeling, your body welcoming the touch. The tiny rational portion of your mind was screaming, but the feeling was so nice that you ignored her.

You felt a hand touch your face, which shocked you out of your bliss. It was Kylo’s hand. His eyes told you that he was just as spellbound as you were.

Both the lieutenant and the general didn’t seem to know what to make of the moment as they both shared a confused face at both of your actions.

Kylo’s hand caressed your cheek before he withdrew it. His eyes never leaving yours. No words were spoken between you, not even in your mind, but you knew what just happened changed something.

You could almost hear the rational part of your brain whimper in pain at being ignored, whimper because of his grip on your consciousness. That rational part being afraid at what just occurred, but the rest of your existence being overjoyed at it. You could feel the tendrils recede slightly and the rational part slowly coming out of the corner that it had been backed into. Still very much afraid of the dark mass that just took over.

The general spoke first, “M’lady shall we go over what will need to be decided today?” He hesitantly looked between you and Kylo, trying to figure out your next course of action.

Without breaking eye contact with Kylo, you responded, “Yes. I think will be best.” You examined Kylo’s face as if it were a rare piece of art. Going over every last detail.

“We should decide what charity you should patron first. Is there anything, in particular, that strikes an interest in you m’lady? Any topic that you would prefer?” You could hear some unease in his voice as you failed to look at him. Your eyes still locked on Kylo.

You could feel the tendrils shift as a thought presented itself, “Something for abused or neglected children.” You watched as Kylo’s eyes phantom fluttered for a moment. His eyes then roaming your face as yours did his.

Both of your breathing is in sync. Two halves of a whole as his hold on your mind made itself at home. The tendrils tucking themselves in the corners of your skull, occasionally skimming your brain when needed, but mostly just there watching.  

“There are many orphanages throughout the galaxy shall I choose one for you,” asked Hux with his voice wavering. You could hear how uncomfortable the whole situation between you and Kylo was making him. You could not see nor hear the lieutenant, but you guessed that he was worse than the well-seasoned general.

Kylo answered for you, “Yes.”

You heard the general stand, “Well sir, m’lady we best be off to our luncheon. There is much to discuss.”

Kylo stood first, holding out his hand for you to take. Which you did. He then tucked your arm under his. Never breaking eye contact as you walked down the stairs and to the entrance of your chambers. You paused as Kylo put on his helmet, breaking your stare and trance. He then faced forward as you walked down the winding halls to the conference room.

You entered arm in arm with Kylo; he guided you to your seat, you never took your eyes off of him. Still enrapt in a trance. He walked with power around the room as he reached the head of the table where he chose to stand.

All around you were the High Command members, most of whom were holograms as they holocommuted in. Luckily for you, Pryde was also holocummuting in. You were relieved at his lack of physical presence. You also noted that there were several other officers standing along the opposite wall to you.

Kylo addressed the room, “Today is Lady Ren’s official first day as First Lady of the First Order,” he paused and you could hear a small applause coming from the High Command, both those who were physically present and those who weren’t. “She has many responsibilities in her new role, you are to do what she asks of you as if it was an order from me.”

You watched as chins raised in acknowledgment. You could see that some were not happy about having another person ruling over them. Kylo sensed this too as his head cut to an older male admiral, “I sense unease Admiral Berand.”

What shocked you was that the man wasn’t even here, he was holocommuting. Were Kylo’s Force abilities that strong?

“No, sir,” said the admiral.

You watched as Kylo marched around the room and came up next to the holo projection of the man. Even though they were technically a galaxy apart, the admiral shrank away from Kylo. “Good, keep your thoughts under control or I will do it for you.”

You could feel the tendrils in your own mind flex with excitement. They apparently wanted the admiral to mess up, so they could arrange his thoughts for him.

Kylo then spoke again addressing the room, “You have all given candidates for Lady Ren’s staff. Her chief of staff will be Dopheld Mitaka, now a captain, but there still remains her press secretary, correspondence secretary,  social secretary, her advisor, and her spokesperson. Five positions to fill. And after General Hux’s initial weeding of the candidates, there are 15 applicants. We shall now proceed with the filling of positions.” Kylo then gestured to the Allegiant General to start. Hux then waited patiently for your signal, waiting until you were ready.

You broke your gaze from staring at Kylo to look to your side. You gestured to Mitaka to come forward and join you by your side. Which he gladly did. You then nodded to the general to commence the application process.

You picked out your press secretary, social secretary, advisor, and spokesperson with ease. You took into account the opinions of Kylo, Hux and Mitaka. The final position of the correspondence secretary was being considered.

Unfortunately, Pryde’s recommendation was still in the running. The young officer that he had put forward as an applicant gave off similar vibes to the man himself. Almost a younger version of himself. You quickly denied his choice. The officer had a look of disappointment and anger on his face as he was forced to step back. You could tell your decision also displeased Pryde as you had a feeling that this officer was going to be some sort of informant to him.

Across the room, you could see Kylo’s body stiffen as he was probably monitoring both men’s thoughts. He barked at the officer to get out and to return to the Steadfast as he was no longer needed here. You watched as he left the room. He was the only rejected officer that was asked to leave before the meeting was over.

Next up was General Parnadee’s choice, a nice young lieutenant with a kind face. Parnadee introduced her, as the other generals did with their recommendations, “This is Lieutenant Amala Graven. She has an impeccable memory. The ability to recall voices and has a knack for routines. She is quiet but very decisive when it comes to printed languages. She has been my trusted personal secretary for two years and I can think of no one better for the position of correspondence secretary.”

From what you knew of Parnadee, even after entrusting your home planet to her, you knew that if she was recommending someone, especially someone, she trusts that you should highly consider the person. You then looked over her file, which was a clean record. She came highly recommended from the academy and she had been promoted quickly into Parnadee’s trusted and highly coveted secretary position.

After sharing a look with Mitaka, you made your decision. You looked at the female lieutenant in the eyes and said, “I believe you will make an excellent correspondence secretary and I would be honored if you would join my staff.”

The lieutenant thanked you and joined the group of others that had been selected. Your attention then shifted back to Kylo as he dismissed them and Mitaka while you were to have the luncheon portion of your meeting.

Everything went by rather smoothly after that, Hux telling those who holocommuted in that they were free to go as no official business was going to be discussed. You were thankful because you were sick of Pryde’s holo eyes watching your every move.

You watched as slowly every hologram was disconnected. Pryde getting in one last final creepy stare before disconnecting. You were relieved when Kylo took a seat next to you instead of his official unused one across from you.

You were in a large conference room filled with only a few generals and admirals. Lunch was served and Kylo relented in taking off his helmet so he could join you as you ate. Small pleasant discussions popped up around you. The Allegiant General giving his opinion here and there to the different conversations.

Meanwhile, you and Kylo ate in a comfortable silence between you two. There seemed no need to say anything as you could feel the tendrils exploring your mind. Seeing how far they could go before hitting a wall or turning around. You could feel them warmly caressing your happiest memories and completely covering those that caused you pain. You felt light-headed but in a way that didn’t make you sick, but as if a weight had been relieved from your consciousness.

You felt as if you could stay in this moment forever. But soon you would have your lesson with the general and soon you would have to move on with real life. But for now, you chose to be stuck in this moment. This little piece of forever.

A/N: Note that I see every comment and reblog w/ # and I love them so much! Tumblr is kinda hard to respond with just note that anything coming from @justanotherhockey-blog​ is from me!

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Penitent Thief

by J.C. Ryle

“Then one of the criminals who were hanged blasphemed Him, saying, If You are the Christ, save Yourself and us. But the other, answering, rebuked him, saying, Do you not even fear God, seeing you are under the same condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we receive the due reward of our deeds; but this Man has done nothing wrong. Then he said to Jesus, Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom. And Jesus said to him, Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise." - Luke 23:39-43

Reader, I wish to speak to you about these verses. Listen to me while I try to unfold the leading lessons which they are meant to teach. I cannot see the state of your heart before God, but I can see truths in this passage which no man can ever know too well.

First, you are meant to learn Christ’s power and willingness to save sinners. This is the main doctrine to be gathered from the history of the penitent thief. It teaches you that which ought to be music in the ears of all who hear it: Jesus Christ is mighty to save.

I ask you if any man’s case could look more hopeless and desperate than this man's? He was a wicked man, a malefactor, a thief, if not a murderer. He was suffering a just punishment for breaking the law. And as he had lived wickedly, so he seemed determined to die wickedly, for when he first was crucified, he railed on our Lord.

He was a dying man. He hung there nailed to a cross, from which he was never to come down alive. His hours were numbered, the grave was ready for him. There was but a step between him and death. If ever there was a soul hovering on the brink of hell, it was the soul of this thief. If ever there was a case that seemed lost, gone, and past recovery, it was his. If ever there was a child of Adam whom the devil made sure of as his own, it was this man.

But see now what happened. He ceased to rail and blaspheme, and began to speak in another manner altogether. He turned to our blessed Lord in prayer and asked Jesus to “remember him when He came into His kingdom.” He asked that his soul might be cared for, his sins pardoned, and himself thought of in another world. Truly this was a wonderful change.

Mark what kind of answer he received. Some would have said he was too wicked a man to be saved. But it was not so. Some would have fancied it was too late, the door was shut, and there was no room for mercy. But it proved not too late at all. The Lord Jesus returned an immediate answer, spoke kindly to him, and assured him that he should be with Him that day in Paradise. He pardoned him completely, cleansed him thoroughly from his sins, received him graciously, justified him freely, raised him from the gates of hell, and gave him a title to glory.

The second lesson you are meant to learn is this: if some are saved in the very hour of death, others are not. This is a truth that never ought to he passed over, and I dare not leave it unnoticed. It is a truth that stands out plainly in the sad end of the other malefactor, and is only too often forgotten. What became of the other thief who was crucified? Why did he not turn from his sin and call upon the Lord? Why did he remain hardened and impenitent? Why was he not saved? It is useless to try to answer such questions. Let us be content to take the fact as we find it, and see what it is meant to teach us.

We have no right whatever to say this thief was a worse man than his companion. There is nothing to prove it. Both plainly were wicked men. Both were receiving the due reward of their deeds. Both hung by the side of our Lord Jesus Christ. Both heard Him pray for His murderers. Both saw Him suffer patiently. But while one repented, the other remained hardened. While one began to pray, the other went on railing. While one was converted in his last hours, the other died as bad a man as he had lived. While one was taken to paradise, the other went to his own place, the place of the devil and his angels.

Now these things are written for our warning. They tell me that though some may repent and be converted on their death-bed, it does not follow that all will. A death-bed is not always a saving time. They tell me that two men may have the same opportunities of getting good for their souls, may be placed in the same position, see the same things, and hear the same things, and yet only one shall take advantage of them. Only one will repent, believe, and be saved. They tell me, above all, that repentance and faith are the gifts of God and are not in a man’s own power. If any one flatters himself that he can repent at his own time, choose his own season, seek the Lord when he pleases, and, like the penitent thief, be saved at the very last, he may find he is greatly deceived. Beware of presumption. Do not abuse God’s mercy and compassion. If you would be wise, put nothing off that concerns your soul.

The third lesson you are meant to learn is: the Spirit always leads saved souls in one way. This is a point that deserves particular attention and is often overlooked. Men look at the broad fact that the penitent thief was saved when he was dying, and they look no further. They do not consider the evidences this thief left behind him. They do not observe the abundant proof he gave of the work of the Spirit in his heart. And these proofs I wish to trace out. I wish to show you that the Spirit always works in one way, and that whether He converts a man in an hour, as He did the penitent thief, or by slow degrees, as he does others, the steps by which He leads souls to heaven are always the same.

First, see how strong was the faith of this man. He called Jesus, “Lord.” He declared his belief that He would have a kingdom. He believed that He was able to give him eternal life and glory, and in this belief prayed to Him. He maintained Christ's innocence of all the charges brought against Him. When even Christ's own disciples had forsaken Him and fled, when He was bleeding and dying on the cross, this was the hour when the thief believed in Christ and prayed to Him.

Second, see what a right sense of sin the thief had. He says to his companion, “We receive the due reward of our deeds.” He acknowledges his own ungodliness and the justice of his punishment. He makes no attempt to justify himself or excuse his wickedness. He is a man humbled and self-abased by the remembrance of past iniquities. This is what all God’s children feel. They are ready to allow they are poor hell-deserving sinners. They can say with their hearts as well as with their lips, “We have left undone the things that we ought to have done, and we have done those things that we ought not to have done, and there is no health in us.”

See what brotherly love the thief showed to his companion. He tried to stop his railing and blaspheming and bring him to a better mind. There is no surer mark of grace than this. Grace shakes a man out of his selfishness and makes him feel for the souls of others.

In one word, you see in the penitent thief a finished work of the Holy Ghost. Every part of the believer’s character may be traced in him. Short as his life was after conversion, he found time to leave abundant evidence that he was a child of God. His faith, his prayer, his humility, his brotherly love, are unmistakable witnesses of the reality of his repentance. He was not a penitent in name only, but in deed and in truth.

You are meant to learn from these verses that believers in Christ are with the Lord when they die. I cannot describe what kind of place paradise is, but I ask no brighter view of it than this--that Christ is there. Let me only see Christ in paradise when my eyes close in death, and that suffices me.

Reader, the day that believers die they are in paradise. Their battle is fought, their strife is over. They have passed through that gloomy valley we must one day tread. They have gone over that dark river we must one day cross. They have drunk that last bitter cup which sin has mingled for man. They have reached that place where sorrow and sighing are no more. Surely we should not wish them back again. We should not weep for them, but for ourselves.

This tract may fall into the hands of some humble-hearted and contrite sinner. Are you that man? Then here is encouragement for you. See what the penitent thief did and do likewise. See how he prayed, see how he called on the Lord Jesus Christ, see what an answer of peace he obtained. Why should not you also be saved?

[amayalunar]

Second Chanced - Chapter 1

Chapter one of a mini series, and trying my had at one of my favorite Hypnosis Mic characters out there. This is a Jyuto Irums x OC series, as I cannot bring myself to write reader inserts. It will be full of fluff, angst, and drama. 

This chapter is lighter for language, but keep in mind, Language will be mature, and this will be a PG/M rated story as it can cause triggers. 

Enjoy ♥♥♥

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Chapter 1  - Morning Routine

Mornings were the worst, they came with the constant reminders that there was no one around, no one cared. He was constantly reminded how alone in the world he really was. Pulling his worn body out of best, just like he did the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. His usually neat and kept brown hair was hanging over his eyes, and sprawled out without care. His keen eyes usually take in every detail, passing judgement and even intimidation, now cast down as though they held no life at all. Everything reminded him that he truly was a lonely only rabbit. 

This was the morning routine, wake up, regret every lonely bit of his life, take a shower, put on his persona, and leave. The less he stayed in his lonely domain the better, how strange it was when Jyuto thought about how he dreaded being home after he woke, but found sanctuary after a long day.. He didn’t need any more reminders of the regret he felt every single day. Jyuto Iruma had chosen this life, it’s not glorious, it’s not even fulfilling, it’s just what it is. He could have had more, he could have been a family man, he could have been a good cop, he could have been… but he’s beyond that chance now. Now he fights a never ending battle, does the more unspeakable things, and lingers in the world of regret with a small amount of hope that everything he does will pave the way for a slightly better life for those he could have been with. 

Nearly ten years since he decided that his life was going to change, just only a decade ago Jyuto was living his best life. Yes, things were not the greatest in the world, but his world was precious. Thinking back on it now, the twinge of regret still held tight over his very core, he thought about everything he has done since that day, would he have changed anything? Probably not, someone had to take on this issue, even if everything else he did was wrong. Someone had to make the world a little lighter, even if darkness would always loom over him. 

This was everyday, every single morning, Jyuto Iruma would think about everything he lost, every little thing that is no longer in his life, and that was his drive to continue to rule the shadows of Yokohama, where police and gangs feared him, because he was always watching. He glanced down at his phone at the singular remembrance he kept. He tortured himself with that image.

The day would only drag on with Yokohama life, just because it was a slow morning didn’t mean Yokohama stopped. 

…

Strolling through Yokohama, the white haired Yakuza boss passed by various members of society, some greeted him as normal, other beckoned for him to come in, nothing really caught his attention, nothing seemed to even spark his curiosity. It was a strangely slow day for him, letting him walk the streets as he did now, it was strangely peaceful until a soft voice spoke up behind, 

“Samatoki-san!” 

Faint at first, but growing louder and louder, until the white haired male turned to be greeted with a young boy, who had been about ten years old or maybe a little younger. Listing his brow Samatoki stopped to let the kid catch up, if there was a soft spot in his other than his sister, it was children. “Is something wrong?” Samatoki questions rather bluntly, not liking time wasted, regardless of the age of the person in question. “No… nothing wrong, I was wondering… maybe you can help me?” the boy asked, the expression on Samatoki’s face only seemed to grow in confusion. “Maybe.” the boy before him seemed to brighten up, his emerald eyes shimmering with the potential help of the Yakuza. “I’m looking for my dad,” he started, “he works at the police station.” 

Samatoki only sighed, “look kid I can’t help you, but I know someone who can.” he muttered with the cigarette between his lips, bowing the kid seemed to agree as Samatoki motioned for the boy to follow him. “So, what’s your old man’s name? I can at least try to get things figured out so he’ll be ready.” the boy smiled looking at Samatoki, “my dad is Jyuto Iruma, which is why I knew you would be able to help me find him,” he smiled. Samatoki stopped in his tracks as he stared at the boy, and with this new information took him in more and more, he was average height for a boy, bright emerald eyes, though much more innocent than his old man’s, dark brown hair that was closer to black. Actually looking at him more, Samatoki could see the boy was a spitting image of his father. 

Taking out his phone, he messaged both his teammates for a meeting. They proceeded to ask Riou to come a bit earlier, they had something to discuss. 

“No need to meet at the station kid, we’ll go back to my place,” he grumbled, this should be fun…

“My name is Tetsuya, Tetsuya Iruma, since I know your name you should know mine.” he happily stated, making Samatoki give a deeper chuckle, “Tetsuya, you don’t have anyone looking for you right?” he questioned, “no, not yet at least. Aunt Viv probably hasn’t even noticed I’m gone yet, and mama is working with a client until a little later.” he spoke as though he planned this out. “I’m starting to thing this isn’t a coincidence we met up.” Samatoki stated, “nope, I’ve seen you come by here at this exact time every Tuesday afternoon for the past three weeks.” Samstoki again chuckled at the boy, this was going to be interesting indeed. 

[softyoongiionly]

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Five

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: College Au, Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, some moderate angst (later), smut (later later), slow-ish? burn

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: AHHHHH the overwhelming tension! I hope you guys like this one😊

Warnings for this Chapter: mentions of fear, anxiety, swearing (obviously), suggestive language, gut wrenching tension, slight angst.

Warnings for the Fic: mentions characters confronting their fears, characters in uncomfortable situations, emotional moments between characters, mentions of bad parenting, explicit language throughout the fic, moderate angst, and very explicit smut later in the story.

Chapter 5: Ferris Wheels and Friendship?

The next morning you woke up to an incessant buzzing that seemed to come from underneath your pillow. Squinting away the morning sun and cursing yourself for not shutting the window before you fell asleep; you take a look at your phone and, see that Jimin is calling you.

“Morning.” You croak, pulling your fuzzy throw blanket up over your figure.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty,” Jimin’s fairy voice twinkles through the speaker, a giggle on the tail end of his words “Did I wake you up?”

“Always.” There’s a bite to your tone but, Jimin’s knows better than to take it seriously. “What’s up?”

“It’s Friday.” He sing-songs and your eyes shoot open in alarm.

“Oh shit, Jimin! I’m sorry!” You flip the covers around, disturbing a sleeping Marzipan in the process, your feet meandering about on the floor as you try and look for some clean clothes. You and Jimin had a Friday tradition that involved crepes and the best iced coffee in the entire world. It was definitely something worth waking up for.

“Jagi, you’re good!” He calls through the phone, since you had to put him on speaker. “I’m at your door though, let me iiiin.” He whines and you rush to the door, not bothering to hang up his call. Swinging the door open, you are met with a giggling Jimin casually leaning against the doorframe. He looks amazing as usual, his pink hair effortlessly swept back, his rose colored cheeks dewy: his outfit is simple but jaw-dropping as usual. Tight grey skinny jeans, a pink oversized sweater, several gold earrings, and black leather boots adorn Jimin’s figure as he holds his arms out for you. Jimin always puts a smile on your face and, he is one of the few people you can confidently say that you never get tired of. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your cheek to his chest, a smile warming your features.

“I’m sorry I slept in.” You mumble against his sweater, and he lets out another giggle.

“It’s fine Y/N, I knew you’d never miss a date with me so, I showed up anyway.” His honeyed voice assures you as you pull away. It’s then that both you and Jimin realize that you don’t have pants on. “Yah! What are you doing answering the door in your panties, someone can walk by and see you!”

You giggle in response to his change in demeanor, pulling him inside as you shut the door.

“Calm down, I’m sure everyone on this floor has seen my underwear at some point.” You confess, still giggling lightly as you hand Jimin a water bottle and, his eyes narrow in your direction. Listen, sometimes I don’t feel like putting on pants just to run to the mailbox and back, I’ve actually gotten pretty good at making it back before anyone sees me.”

“I don’t want to hear about my best friend running around with her ass out, unless I’m there, also running around with my ass out. Someone could literally put you in their pocket.” Jimin admonishes with a pointed look, drinking from his water bottle but, his eyes reflect a bit of the normal playfulness that they always have.

“Look who’s talking.” You play back before running for your life and into your room. Jimin boils over as he picks up a pillow from your couch and throws it in your direction, the pillow nearly missing your head.

“Don’t be fucking rude!” He calls, attempting to sound angry but his giggle escapes his lips anyway.

———————————————————————————————–

“So that’s it? He just got up and left?” Jimin asks around a bite of strawberry crepe, his eyes wide after listening to you recount your night with Yoongi.

You nod, your lips pursed as you wipe your hands on the cloth napkin that lay over your lap.

“Yeah,” You replied casually, taking a sip of your iced coffee. “I don’t know, maybe I misread the situation. I get why he left I guess but, I was a little confused by him leaning away from me. I’m probably reading too much into it, I mean he was there for our project. He wasn’t there cause he wanted to hang out with me.”

“I mean, that’s true but, from what you are telling me, he doesn’t sound put off by you, he sounds like he might have been nervous. I mean odds are, you probably had your chest right in his face while you were fixing his hair.” Jimin smirks lightly, his eyes twinkling with suggestion.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you toss your napkin his way and, forever the dancer, he dodges it swiftly, giggling.

“Shut up.” Your laugh eventually leaves your chest to bubble through your lips as Jimin holds his hands up.

“You’re hot; I’m just speaking the truth.” He defends a sweet smile on his lips.

“You flatter me kind sir” You conclude, patting his hand as you both giggle once again.

A few moments of comfortable silence passes before Jimin’s eyes light up in remembrance.

“Wait! Did you see Kookie’s tweet?”

Your eyes widen back at him as you brace your hands against the table, leaning forward slightly.

“Oh my god yes, what was that about? Do you think he’s seeing someone?”

Jungkook had posted a particularly out of character tweet this morning. The exact tweet read, “You’re the cause of my euphoria.” Jungkook was definitely a romantic little softy at heart but, it wasn’t like him to post cryptic things on social media: mainly because most of his posts were usually meme/sports related.

“Should we ask him about it? I’m sure he knows we saw it.” Jimin’s voice is hushed despite the fact that the man in question was 300 miles away.

You purse your lips in thought before shaking your head.

“No, I don’t think so; I think we should wait until he comes to us. Knowing him, he will probably downplay it anyway.” You conclude, smiling fondly at the thought of the secretly shy little bean that was your best friend.

“Ugh but, I want to know who my Kookie is seeing.” Jimin whines, slumping back into the chair, causing you to giggle.

“Trust me, so do I but, I think he’ll tell us when he’s ready. Besides, he might not even be seeing anyone yet; you know how he gets around pretty girls.” You try and reason with the man before you, who seems to be getting more and more flustered by the second.

“But I want to know now.” Jimin’s accent decorates his whine perfectly and, you curse him for being so adorable. “We’ve been best friends forever, he always tells me everything. I bet Taehyung knows.” He concludes bitterly and, you nudge his leg with your foot.

“If he did, he probably pried it out of him.” You assure him, fighting the laugh that’s brewing over Jimin’s tantrum.

“Fine, I won’t say anything.” Jimin surrenders, his features etched in a prominent frown. “I’ll just stalk his twitter.”

“You already stalk his twitter.” You point out, giggling, savoring the last sip of your iced coffee, the waiter coming over to collect the check.

“Well, I miss him!” He defends, his puffy lips pouted in frustration.

       The two of you leave the café and, Jimin heads off to his showcase rehearsal while you catch the subway back home. As your nearing your stop, your phone buzzes in your hand. Glancing down, you see it’s from Yoongi and, you unlock your phone to open it. Your heart stalls in your chest for a moment as you look at the picture before you. It’s Yoongi but, with bright blonde hair. He’s parted it off to the side, exposing part of his forehead and, although the color wasn’t a shimmering platinum, it was definitely blonde. He has a little bit of a smile on his lips and, he looked like he hadn’t been up for too long. The picture was sent with a text that read: Yoongi: I guess you should change majors?

Fuck. He looked really good. You tell yourself to chill and, instead of responding right away, you wait until your back at your apartment.

You: I’ll let my student advisor know on Monday lol. Do you like it?

A few seconds pass before he replies.

Yoongi: It’s different but, I don’t mind it, I’m just happy I still have all of my hair.

You: Trust me, so am I.

Yoongi: Do you like it?

Your brows furrow at the new message you receive, your fingers stalling on the keyboard. Why would he care if you liked it?

You:  I think it looks great, black to blonde is usually a rough way to go so, I’m happy it worked out.

Yoongi: Me too. Thanks again.

You: No worries.

A sigh leaves your lips as you lean back against your couch. You thumb presses into the power button on your phone, as you place it on the arm of the couch. Man, Tuesday could not come quick enough.

—————————————————————————————————-

“Ok so, the next one is easy, you put roller coasters and, I put heights, we can definitely combine those two.” You begin; you’re desk to desk with Yoongi, in the middle of your Tuesday lecture, trying to figure out the next part of the project. Yoongi had been late to class that day but, boy was he worth the wait; blonde messy hair, camouflage hoodie, black torn jeans and, of course his many silver earrings.

His chewing his lip as he nods in your direction, a slightly drawn out breath leaving his nose as he looks at his paper.

“Yeah, that makes sense. We should probably go to an amusement park or something.” Yoongi suggests, his lips hovering over the straw to his Americano. He looked immaculate as always but, you couldn’t miss the puffiness under his eyes that alluded to a night of very little sleep.

“Do you actually want to go on one of the rides?”

Yoongi shakes his head immediately, his dark eyes lighting up slightly in alarm.

“No, I’m good. We can just walk around or something.” He replies, his hand coming up to scratch behind his neck.

“Is it the height for you too? Or the movement?” You inquire, curiously, your eyes meeting his.

“It’s all of it. I don’t like being jerked around…well, not jerked around…like moved around, I guess. I don’t like it.” He fumbles out the last part of his sentence and, you have to stifle the giggle that wants to pass your lips. You nod, putting your pen to your paper, writing down the plans so, that you can turn it in to Professor James.

“No, I get it; you don’t like being jerked around. I’ll keep that in mind.” You reply casually and you feel an eraser being thrown your way.

“Shut up. Don’t be gross.” Yoongi admonishes but, his cheeks are pink and the amused smile on his lips has already presented itself.

“I’m just trying to get to know my partner.” You defend, the flirtation in your voice subtle but, clearly suggestive. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s for a moment and, you can sense that he’s in some kind of discomfort. He shifts in his seat, his hand at the back of his neck once more before, he takes another sip of his coffee.

“I’m busy for most of this week but, I can probably do Thursday night again, I think the park closes at 10 so, we should have plenty of time to get what we need.” He changes the subject, his gaze growing slightly stern as he glances around the room. Yikes.

“Thursday works for me. I have review session from 2-4 for my final but, I’ll be free after that.” Your returns to its normal cadence and, you couldn’t help but feel a little bummed out by Yoongi going all business on you again. You figured it was time to stop hoping that he would see you as something other than his partner for an inconvenient project.

“Alright, cool, I can meet you there; I’ll try and leave a little bit earlier to avoid the traffic.” He notes, nodding.

“Ok, we should get there around the same time then.” You reply, your eyes not really meeting his gaze any longer, your notebook suddenly becoming very interesting.

“What final is it?” Yoongi asks suddenly, his voice slightly softer than before.

“Hm?” Your eyes flit up to his and you find him staring back at you curiously.

“Your final, that you’re reviewing for?” He clarifies, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Oh, yeah, it’s my International Relations final, it’s one of my final grad requirements so, I need to ace it.” You explain, Yoongi nodding along, his eyes holding a bit of interest for once.

“What do you plan to do with your degree?”

“I want to work as an international advocate of some sorts. I’m interested in improving international relationships and foreign affairs, stuff like that. I’d really like to work in human rights as well but, that’s something I’ll probably have to work up to.” You reply, passion lighting up your voice as you speak about your passions. Yoongi’s face lights up slightly, a small but, genuine smile gracing his features as he nods along.

“That’s cool; the world definitely needs the help.”

“Yeah, I think so too. What about you?” You inquire, your body leaning forward slightly. Yoongi’s expression lights up further as nods to his laptop.

“Well, if I actually get my final composition project done, I plan on staying in the city to work as a producer. I have a friend who owns a small studio in the west province who said I have a job when I graduate.” He explains, his tone one of pride and certainty.

You smile, your eyes lighting up intrigued.

“That’s really cool; it’s nice that you have something lined up already. Do you make your own stuff or are you just looking to make beats for other people?” At this question, Yoongi shifts his posture again, growing smaller in his seat.

“Uh I make my own stuff sometimes but, I usually just sell beats to aspiring SoundCloud rappers.” He smirks slightly as you giggle, stretching your limbs before nodding to your phone.

“Are they any good?”

“No, they’re trash.” He scoffs his eyes playful as his long fingers fiddle with the end of his paper. “But, I have rent so; I do what I have to do.”

“I get you. Do you sing or?” You’re attempting to milk as much of the conversation as possible, as this is probably the most genuine verbal encounter you’ve had with Yoongi. Yoongi cringes at your inquiry, his face wrinkled in distaste as he shakes his head.

“No.” He chuckles as he leans back in his chair, the soft column of his throat visible as continues. “I rap…sometimes, just for fun though.”

You smile playfully, tilting your head, as Professor James calls for your planning papers. “Let me know when your mixtape drops.”

At this, Yoongi rolls his eyes but, you can’t miss the blush that once again graces his cheeks.

“Not going to happen.” He bites back, as he slips his laptop into his bag.

The two of you drop your papers on Professor James’s desk before, weaving through the crowd of people towards the exit. Usually Yoongi leaves you behind to head back into the main part of the campus but, this time he lingers beside you, his thumbs tucking into the straps of his backpack.

“I’ll see you Thursday?” He asks, his voice soft, his doll-lips pouted as he tilts his head towards the direction he plans to walk.

“I’ll be there.” You smile in assurance as you begin to part ways. Your back is almost completely turned before you hear Yoongi’s voice again.

“Bring a jacket, it’s supposed to be cold.” He calls; hands pulling the sleeves of his hoodie back down over his wrists. You nod, biting back a smile at his request.

“I will, thanks.” You call back before turning back and going your separate ways.

———————————————————————————————-

“Y/N likes Yoongi, Y/N likes Yoongi!” An annoying course of voices echoes through your screen as you roll your eyes, flipping off your webcam.

“I don’t like Yoongi; I just think he’s cute!” You insist, through the choir from hell that’s currently berating you.

It’s Wednesday night and you’re in the middle of a skype session with Jimin, Taehyung and, Jungkook. Jimin and his big mouth had slowly started to bring up the idea that one of you was seeing someone. Jungkook had started to look visibly uncomfortable so, you decided to shift the focus onto you. You had mentioned Yoongi and, his new hair and, how literally everything he does was endearing and, this obviously opened you up to a barrage of teasing from your friends.

“You never talk about boys this way Y/N, you definitely have a thing for him.” Taehyung points out, his smirk prominent as the other two boys finally settle down.

“Seriously, she mentions him all the time; it’s starting to make me jealous.” Jimin pouts, causing Taehyung to chuckle. Jungkook, who would normally be memeing the hell out of you right now, decides to quiet down, not wanting to risk his own love life being questioned.

“You guys, even if I had a thing for Yoongi, it wouldn’t matter. He’s made it obvious that he isn’t feeling it, trust me.” You explain, playing with the ends of your hair, whilst Taehyung and Jimin roll their eyes.

“You don’t know that, have you tried flirting a little?” Taehyung asks, his expression doubtful as he deadpans the camera.

“Yeah, actually I have but, I think it makes him uncomfortable and, I don’t really want to do that.” You’re trying to keep your tone casual, not really wanting to reveal your disappointment to your friends. Yoongi wasn’t interested in you, that much was obvious but, so far, he seemed like a nice guy so, you really didn’t want to make things awkward for him.

“I don’t know Y/N, you don’t exactly have a good track record when it comes to knowing if guys like you or not.  There were at least half a dozen guys in high school that  had a thing for you and, you had no idea.” Jimin points out, shrugging as he throws back some of the pink wine in his glass. Taehyung nods in agreement, pointing towards you.

“Jiminie’s right, maybe you just make him nervous. You have that effect on men.” Taehyung smirks as he leans back in his seat. You roll your eyes and shake your head, your hand reaching over to pat Marzipan who has plopped down next to you.

“I think you should keep going the way you are. Hyung is right, he might just be nervous but, if you don’t know for sure, maybe it’s best to just keep going with the flow.” Jungkook finally pipes up, his demeanor much calmer than normal and, you really have to stifle your desire to ask him why he isn’t being the walking meme that he normally is.

“Thanks Kookie. I think you’re right.” You smile sweetly in his direction as he nods almost shyly in return. Taehyung and Jimin roll their eyes causing both you and Jungkook to laugh.

“I think you should say something to him. Take charge, let him know how you feel.” Taehyung encourages as Jimin nods along to his sentiment. “ He might surprise you.”

“He’s my partner guys, if he’s not into me, it’s going to make the whole thing a lot harder to get through. Look, I promise to say something if he gives me good reason to but, right now, I’m going to take Jungkook’s advice and, go with the flow.” You state and Jungkook smile’s proudly in return before, sticking his tongue out at the screen.

“Ha! I win, suckers.” He announces to the other boys, causing you to laugh at his antics. “Best advice goes to me, Jeon Jungkook, the love expert.”

Ah, there he is.

—————————————————————————————————-

Thursday finally arrives and, you’re rifling through your closet, desperately trying to find your favorite hoodie. Its black and 4-5 sizes too big, which basically means it hangs below your knees. The inside is lined with thick fleece that is easily the softest material you have ever felt and, you could have sworn you hung it up the last time you did laundry. Your face lights up in victory as you spot a mass of black fabric hanging off of one of your shelves before, slipping it on over your bra and leggings. You opt for some comfortable shoes since, odds are,  you‘re going to be walking around the park for a while. Marzipan scurries into the kitchen as she hears you pouring food into her bowl, her chubby body almost sliding across the floor as she reaches her destination. You giggle fondly at her, patting her head before, grabbing your things and heading out the door.

The subway ride was longer than you’re used to but, eventually you’re dropped off near the main entrance of the amusement park. When you finally feel the frigid outside air, you thank your lucky stars that Yoongi had reminded you to bring a jacket. You honestly don’t know what you would have done if you had opted to wear anything else. Moving through the crowd of people, you eventually move off to the side to pull your phone out.

You: Hey, I’m here. Have you made it yet?

Yoongi’s reply takes a few minutes before a new message lights up your screen.

Yoongi: I just parked. Meet me at the ticket booth.

You: I bought our tickets already, do you want to just meet at the main entrance?

The chat bubble moves around for a long time and based on his short reply, you assume he was unsure of how to respond.

Yoongi: You didn’t have to do that.

You: You promised me I could get the next round so, I did just that.

Yoongi: I meant the next round of food…

You: Don’t worry about it.

A few moments pass before you spot Yoongi walking towards your direction. He’s wearing the same outfit he wore during your AM lecture: black Nike sweats with a dark gray utility jacket. He’s also sporting a disapproving expression, his hands tucked into his pockets as he approaches you. You push off of the wall you were leaning against, strolling over to meet him half way.

“I wish you wouldn’t have wasted your money on me.” He announces as the two of your paths finally meet. “I could have paid.”

“You’re welcome Yoongi.” You reply simply, nudging him towards the main entrance. He side eyes you, his posture stiff but, he allows you to push him towards your destination.

“Thank you.” His voice is soft and you almost miss the small smile that appears and then vanishes on his mouth.

The two of you approach the gate and, you reach out to hand your tickets to the clerk who is sporting a brilliant smile.

“Enjoy!” She chirps and both you and Yoongi thank her before you head inside.

The park is buzzing with activity, twinkling lights adorning nearly every structure, the air is scented with tantalizing flavors that resemble cinnamon and freshly baked bread, children are eagerly tugging their parents towards various shops and rides and, there’s probably around a half a dozen giant roller coasters that stand proudly towards the back of the park. You can’t help but smile at the scene before you and, this doesn’t go unnoticed by the man standing beside you.

“What?” His brows are raised, as he glances between you and whatever he assumes you’re smiling at.

“Nothing.” You reply, your smile fading slightly before jerking your head towards the back of the park. “I’m guessing we should head that way?”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, nodding in response as the two of you start to make your way to the metal fortresses that await you.

You observe the coasters from a distance and, you feel yourself getting slightly nervous at the thought of riding the tallest one that protrudes in the middle of the group, the top of it looking as if its about to touch the sky. Roller coasters themselves didn’t really bother you but, the idea of being up so high without any control over when you are able to get down, really freaked you out. Yoongi stayed silent for the most part as you meandered your way through the eager patrons. You felt some level of disappointment as the tricky part of your brain reminded you that you wished you were here with Yoongi for different reasons.

“Which one scares you the most?” You ask him after the two of you finally reach the cluster of coasters.

Yoongi’s eyes shift around for a moment, his lips pursed in thought before he nods toward a black coaster that looks it spins and flips about a thousand times.

“That one, I can’t understand why anyone would find that fun.” He replies, wrinkling his nose in distaste. You laugh lightly before you nod towards the giant colorful Ferris Wheel dominating the right side of the back lot.

“What about that one?” You inquire softly, your eyes lighting up with an idea. Yoongi ponders your question for a moment before shrugging.

“That one isn’t too bad, I’m not a huge fan of the height but, it’s probably the only one I would consider riding.”

“I’m going to ride it.” You say suddenly, nudging his shoulder with your own. Yoongi’s brow furrows as he looks over at you and then back at the ride.

“Wait why? I thought we were just walking around.” He reminds you but, you already start making your way towards the Ferris Wheel, your heart starting to pound in your chest as you do. Yoongi struggles to keep up with you as he looks at you with concern.

You shrug as you take your place in line, “You actually dyed your hair and it turned out alright, I think I should confront a fear or two directly too. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to though.”

Yoongi looks at you for a moment, still alarmed as his eyes regard the behemoth wheel before the both of you. He shakes his head, his gaze once again disapproving as he sighs out through his nose.

“I’ll watch your stuff, I guess, just…” He pauses, his eyes scanning over your frame as you hand him your purse. “Be…safe…”

You giggle lightly at his demeanor, pushing down the anxiety and disappointment that’s brewing in your chest.

“I’ll be strapped in Yoongi, don’t worry.” You assure him, before, making your way to the entrance of the ride. What were you doing???? Were you crazy??? There was literally no reason to confront this fear directly but, honestly, why not? It was a Ferris Wheel. Yes, it was unnerving but, what’s the worst that can happen?

Right before you approach the front of the line, you hear a soft murmur, that sounded like your name, making its way through the group of people before you notice Yoongi shuffling over to you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask with a tilt to your head. Yoongi lets out a frustrated sigh, his face turned up in discomfort as you both approach the ride operator.

“You shouldn’t ride it alone.” Yoongi mumbles, regarding you with his cat eyes.

“Yoongi, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.” You assure him, your eyes soft with concern.

“Well I don’t even want to be here but, I can’t afford to fail this class so, let’s just get this over with, I guess.” For the first time, you sense actual irritation in Yoongi’s voice and the tone makes your face fall.

You nod robotically as the woman ushers the two of you into a massive structure that looks like a carriage. As the two of you step inside, you pull your seatbelt over your lap, keeping your attention on the material. Yoongi has his eyes on you and, you can feel it but, you have no intention at meeting his gaze. As the ride rumbles to life, you grip your seatbelt a little tighter in an attempt to calm your nerves while Yoongi scans over you warily. The two of you don’t speak for some time, your eyes trained on the window of the carriage as it slowly starts moving.

“Are you ok?” Yoongi’s soft voice finally breaks the thick layer of silence between the two of you, his cat eyes regarding you.

“Yeah. I’m good, you?” You jerk your head in his direction, your voice smaller than you want it to be. Yoongi isn’t convinced but, he answers your question anyway.

“Yeah, I’m ok.”

Silence fills the carriage again as you shift slightly on the cushioned seat. The view from the window is revealing more and more of the twinkling city lights and, you once again feel a twinge of sadness that you aren’t here with someone you wants to be there with you. Jimin would love this ride, you note, wishing he was here to make you laugh.

“I’m sorry that you’re here with me instead of some pretty girl or something, you got to admit though, this view is amazing.” You attempt to lighten the mood, smiling slightly as you look out the window. Yoongi’s brow furrows in confusion but, you miss this as you’ve purposefully chosen to avoid his gaze.

“What do you mean?” He mumbles, his voice smaller than normal. You look over at him to see him fiddling with the end of his hoodie, as he stares back at you.

“I just mean that this is actually kind of cool and, I’m sure you’d rather be here with your girlfriend or something.” You explain, keeping your tone as casual as possible.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He retorts, his eyes regarding you, a ghost of a smirk playing on his mouth. “and you are…pretty.” Yoongi seems to force the last part of his sentence out and, you can’t help but giggle in response.

“It’s ok Yoongi; you don’t have to say that. I know you aren’t into me like that.” You smile reassuringly, waving him off almost, trying to move the subject along.

“No, actually, you don’t know that.” He mutters, confusion and faint irritation flashing across his face.

“Well, maybe, I’m wrong for assuming but_”

“You are.” Yoongi cuts you off, his voice calm and annoyingly monotone but, his gaze holds something you can’t quite identify. “Why would you think I wasn’t attracted to you?”

“Your body language, the way you constantly avoid eye contact with me, just stuff like that. It’s no big deal Yoongi; I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, it’s just something I’ve noticed.”

“You’re wrong.” His cheeks are pink and you feel an unsettling flutter in your stomach as you lock eyes with him.

“Fine, I’m wrong. I’m sorry for assuming.” You concede, smirking lightly as you regard his flustered frame. “Would you kiss me? Hypothetically?”

You don’t know what’s come over you, you’re not normally so brazen but you really wanted to know what went on in that pretty blonde head of his.

“Yeah…”He swallows around a dry throat, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, his eyes avoiding yours for the first time during this conversation. “I would…hypothetically.”

Your smirk is unwavering as your teeth nibble on the inside of your lip.

“Where?” The inquiry passes your lips as your voice drops to a low murmur, the flirtation that you’ve suppressed creeping back into your tone.

“Where?” Yoongi repeats, his shaky voice confused momentarily as you watch his gaze flicker between your chest to your throat and, then finally settling on your lips. “I…I don’t know…your lips…maybe…other places too…”

The fluttering in your chest doesn’t seize and, you really try to reason with yourself but, you can’t help but want him. Before you can reply, another confession tumbles passed his lips.

“I’d kiss you everywhere…if you’d let me.”

The ride jolts momentarily ripping you and Yoongi out of your moment, you look around, concerned that something was wrong before a voice crackles through the speakers.

“Attention Ladies and Gentleman, the ride is experiencing some minor technical difficulties and, will resume shortly, please continue to keep your hands, arms, feet and legs inside the ride at all times, we will have everything moving in no time.”

The two of you settle down and catch each other’s gaze once again; Yoongi’s cheeks still pink, his hand resuming its favorite spot behind his neck. He chuckles lightly and, you can’t help but follow suit, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“You….uh” Yoongi begins his sentence but, he seems to lose his words for moment as he stares at you. He takes a breath, his head turning to the side slightly before continuing. “We can’t.”

Your brow furrows as you cock your head, your eyes holding his.

“We can’t what?”

“We can’t do anything.” He explains further, his voice decorated with hesitation, his deep chocolate eyes unsure. You fall silent for a moment, your eyes softer than they were before as you hold his gaze.

“Can I ask why?”

Yoongi’s lips are drawn up into a half smile and you think for a moment you detect a hint of fondness in his eyes before he answers.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” He admits, your face falls for a moment as you look out the window. You nod as you chew on the inside of your lip before Yoongi pipes up again. “It’s not because I don’t want to. I just think it’s a bad idea… right now.”

You nod your head again, smiling warmly, aiming to conceal your disappointment.

“I get it, don’t worry, thanks for the ego boost. For the record though,” Your smile turns into a smirk, your eyes playful. “I’d kiss you too. Everywhere.”  The tone of your voice is dramatic and overly seductive causing Yoongi to roll his eyes and flip you off, despite your comment clearly flustering him. A giggle erupts over your lips as the ride resumes motion towards the ground.

Maybe Jungkook wasn’t a “love expert” after all.

[p-and-p-admin]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.  (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/ Hello CRMediaGal and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you for letting us get to know you a little better.

Many of our members will know your Unquestionable Love series. 

We’re grateful you can spend some time with us today. 

Okay, so let's jump into it!

What’s the story behind your pen name?

CR is an abbreviation for “cracked rendition” and that comes from the excerpt from a poem I’ve loved since I was young. Years ago, to help put myself through art college, I did web design on the side and called my little company Cracked Rendition Designs. When I created my pen name, I combined all of these elements together to make CRMediaGal (for some illogical reason I thought it was a solid name at the time lol) and, to this day, I still think about changing my pen name altogether.  I figure it’s too late for that now, though. 

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

Luna Lovegood. I wish I’d had her self-assurance and confidence in who she is at that age but, that aside, I identify with how she’s a bit of a loner, an oddball, and tends to be left out (or does until she finds her Hogwarts friends). I’ve really struggled with being an outsider most of my life, so it’s comforting to see that representation in literature but through a young woman who possesses the self-confidence people like myself often lack. 

Do you have a favourite genre to read? 

I tend to love period dramas, so a lot of the classic novels are my favourites (i.e. Austen, Henry James, etceteras).  

Do you have a favourite “classic” novel?

The Portrait of a Lady is one of my favourite novels.  I reread it every couple of years.  

At what age did you start writing? 

I’ve been writing since I was very little, so probably seven, eight, nine-ish? I used to be much more of an artist/sketcher than a writer, so I’d make up stories and write and sketch and staple them together all day long lol. 

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

After watching Deathly Hallows: Part 2 at the cinema in 2011.  Severus Snape’s death hit me hard all over again (I hadn’t read the last book in a few years), and I decided that I desperately needed to change that for myself lol.  Unquestionable Love is the first fanfic (SSHG) I ever wrote and it’s become an ongoing series, so I’m grateful to have gotten the “spark” to write fanfic from somewhere around that time.  I decided in 2011 to try my hand at “fleshing out” my little Snape family that had been mucking about in my head for much longer than that.

What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works?

I’m a total sucker for the brooding, self-loathing male who thinks himself unworthy of love and redemption and the sunshine, kick-arse lady, aka Centre of His World, who loves him back to life. #GimmeMorePleaseandThankYou

What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter?

I’ve written fics for Star Wars (ReyBen/Reylo is another one of my favourite ships outside of SSHG), The Hobbit (Thranduil/Tauriel), and Les Miserables (Enjonine). 

If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon?

Severus Snape’s death (he’s NOT dead! #nope #denial4ever). 

My favourite piece of fanon is probably Severus being Draco’s godfather. Regardless of where it originated from, I’m all for it. 

Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet? 

I used to need complete solitude and quiet to write, but nowadays I can write with some instrumental music playing in the background.  It depends on where my headspace is at. 

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time? 

I don’t read much fanfic anymore, as it’s hard enough for me to find time for my own writing…but off the top of my head, I’d probably have to go with a “classic” - The Tattered Man (SSHG) by Aurette.  It’s gutting and heart-wrenching and doesn’t have a happy ending, but it’s a hauntingly beautiful piece that stays with you. 

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I’m somewhere in the middle. I tend to plot out certain points I want to hit from chapter to chapter (if it’s a multi-chapter fic and heavy on plot, for instance), but writing is an organic process and I enjoy allowing my muse to surprise me as well.

What is your writing genre of choice? 

A good mixture of Angst and Fluff (and nearly always with a HEA!) 

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why? 

I’m proud of all my stories for different reasons, mainly technical milestones I was able to achieve with the writing or the emotional attachments I had to them at the time that I wrote them.

If I had to choose one (or two because I gotta cheat here haha!), I’d go with either Unto Their Own (SSHG) because the subject matter was so dark and took me to places mentally that were very tough for me to navigate (the fact that I finished that fic is an achievement for me because it could have very well been abandoned at various points in the story); or Unquestionable Love (SSHG), both the original and the series as a whole, because that story has my heart entirely invested in it.  That precious family means everything to me and the story, from beginning to present, is my headcanon for the SSHG pairing.  I really can’t see them any other way, though I’ve written other stories where their lives turn out quite differently. 

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

Sticking with Unquestionable Love here, the original story came together mostly as expected, though there were a couple darker turns the fic was supposed to take that I didn’t have the heart--or the stamina, I suppose--to end up developing.  

One of my dear OCs/one of the daughters was supposed to die at one point in the story and I realised that doing so would have ultimately changed Severus’s fate, as well as the entire course of the storyline.  (There is just no way that UL!Severus would survive the death of one of his children, so I guess I’m no JK Rowling or any other esteemed writer who can just ruthlessly kill off their characters haha!) I’ve learned through writing this series that I can tackle subject matters that are very emotionally tough for me and that’s a good feeling.  

I’ve also learned that I have something to say, even if it’s not much heard or well-liked, and that that still makes my storytelling worthy of being out there in the fandomverse; or, at least, I try to remind myself that it’s okay to exist.

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

It’s intensely personal in some respects and those aspects are difficult for me to discuss.  I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to talk about them in depth, but I will say a couple scenes in the latter half of Unquestionable Love were incredibly trying to write due to personal experience. I pushed through those moments, though, and I think that, because of that therapeutic exercise, I’m able to tackle other tough subjects in my stories more easily. 

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

I admire various writers, mainly for the love of the language that’s reflected in their writing styles.  Anne Rice immediately comes to mind.  If I had an ounce of her talent, I’d write with so much confidence lol. I don’t think writers like her necessarily affect my writing style, but they’re certainly people I aspire to write more like.  

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction? 

Only more recently.  I haven’t really allowed any of them to read my work, as so much of it is deeply personal, but just being upfront with my closest friends and family has been a nice development.   

How true for you is the notion of “writing for yourself”? 

I think this is something, as a fic writer, that’s essential.  However, I’m also of the mindset that fandom is about community, and fanfic writers want to engage with their audiences.  We want to feel less alone in these wacky and often times complicated scenarios we put our characters through, and we want people to respond to them...hopefully, with a positive reaction. 

That’s what it’s all about--interaction--and it can be rather heartbreaking, as a writer, when you don’t receive engagement because maybe your headcanons or takes on characters aren’t popular or are considered outside of the ‘norm’. 

For me, I find it too crippling anymore to continue sharing my stories with the fandoms I love when they’re met with silence or hate.  There’s nothing more soul crushing than just being dismissed or disliked or not accepted...and that’s why I’ve chosen to post my stories privately (for now, at least).

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

It’s pretty essential to me to be able to engage with readers.  I absolutely love it and I wish it happened more often haha.  I used to run polls and interact with readers on my fanfiction.net and AO3 accounts (both now inactive) and through my still active Tumblr account (http://crmediagal.tumblr.com/ ).  I now have my own website - www.crmediagal.com - where I can fully control the flames and negativity. 

It may be temporary but, so far, it’s working out pretty well.  It’s made my readership a lot smaller but, at least, I know the people who are there genuinely want to read more of my work and won’t leave me hate comments.  That’s so comforting and encouraging.  

What would you most like your readers to take away with them when they've finished your stories?

A powerful message of some kind...remembrance...perhaps, suggest one or two of them to other readers and shippers out there.  

That’s the only way our stories survive, really. 

What is the best advice you’ve received about writing?

That you need to protect your “voice”, no matter how unpopular it may be, and that there is no one else who writes like you and that you should take pride in that.  

I try to remind myself of these important pointers when I’m feeling particularly down about my storytelling abilities. 

What do you do when you hit writer’s block?

Watch my favourite films or television shows to help re-spark my creativity.  I come back to the writing when it ‘speaks’ to me.  I no longer press myself to push out writing because, more often than not, the result is going to get tossed and reworked anyhow.  

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Yes, certain experiences and people I’ve encountered in my life have definitely wound up in some of my stories.  

Many of my OCs in different stories are examples of that. 

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser? 

I’m working on a new SSHG story that’s based off of a fun prompt from a dear, long-time reader.  

It will start posting at my website - www.crmediagal.com - in the coming weeks/months, so if anyone would like access to it, you can contact me there.  

Here’s a short excerpt:

Cradling his head in his hand, Severus stomped to his front door and opened it a crack, jostling the handle loud enough that it caught three people’s attention, the woman firstly before the others.  

“What’s the bloody idea?” he snarled, shouting above them.  

Each individual—two wizards and one witch—went mute and turned to stare from the neighbouring sidewalk.  

“I’ll have you know that this is a quiet street!  And I was sleeping!”  When the guests next door to him, who were just towing the property line and about to get themselves knocked out, offered no response, he prodded, grinding his teeth together, 

“Are you daft, you fools?  Do you not comprehend?  HEY!”

The two gentlemen, who appeared to be fresh out of Hogwarts—or maybe they hadn’t gotten that far in their magical studies, judging by the stupidity on their expressions—startled and nodded in unison.  

“Yes, sir!”

“Oh, my...” the witch, in turn, murmured, seemingly more to herself than anyone else.

Severus identified her vacant, open-mouthed expression at once: she recognised him.  As of yet, he had little recollection as to who she might be and didn’t give a damn.  He kicked his door open the rest of the way with his boot, jostling the three near trespassers backward a few more paces, and stalked down his steps and onto his sidewalk. 

That was when he finally understood the reason behind all of the commotion: one of the branches to the old oak tree that shielded his stoop, and had been there since the earliest days he could recall of his childhood, had crashed onto the pavement, cracking the sidewalk in half. 

A part of his iron fence, too, had crumbled under the weight of the broken branch, and there was an assortment of boxes, some severely banged up, scattered across his property. 

“What the...?  That’s my tree you idiots hit!  And my bleedin’ fence...!”

“I - I’m sorry, sir,” stammered the witch with wildly curly hair and worrisome brown eyes, hastily stepping forward to intervene.  

“I’ve been trying to figure out how this happened—”Severus turned his glare on her.  

“And who are you?”  The seemingly thirty-something woman blushed to her roots, which he couldn’t account for, until she spoke in a faint, insecure whisper, 

“Um, Hermione, sir...  Hermione Weasley.  Oh, gosh, I mean, I - I was Hermione Weasley until...”  She cleared her throat and attempted to reintroduce herself, flushing in such a manner that it flaunted dainty-looking freckles that dotted her cheeks and nose.  Had she always had those?  Severus couldn’t remember.  

“Oh, bother!  It’s Hermione Granger, Professor.  Surely, you...you remember me?”Severus went as rigid as a column.  

“Oh, for fuck’s sake...” he blurted aloud before he could stop himself. Hermione blinked, taken aback.  

“I’m sorry?”Severus’s shock morphed into a tight-fitting sneer.  

“I thought I was done with the lot of you.”

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Try not to get too discouraged by lack of reviews or not making the recommendations lists.  Keep persevering and know that someone out there, even if it’s just one reader, will love what you have to share with the world.  

Thanks for spending some time with us today CRMediaGal, we’ve enjoyed getting to know you.

[playbucky]

Recovery and Remembrance

When a new member of the SWAT team starts to pick on Y/N, she has to control her anger. Doing so ends up putting her life at risk as she remembers the times where her anger would have helped. Characters – Hondo, Jim, Victor, Luca, Chris, Jessica, Reader Word Count – 1939

‘What role do you play?’ Nick questioned you randomly after you had just gotten off the case. You rolled your eyes as you stopped, along with the team, them standing to your side. ‘They’ve got the girl covered now so…’ He trailed of as he motioned to Chris. ‘You’re just a waste of space.’ He commented, you held in the groan, he had had it out for you ever since he joined the team, you knowing fine well that it was because he was self-conscious and he was trying to make himself feel better. ‘Nick.’ Hondo warned him. You shook your head, before turning around and being the bigger man, walking away from the situation, but Nick didn’t get the memo. ‘Look, she even runs away from the situations, how does she do her job.’ He commented, you froze in your spot and the team could feel your mood change and they all took a step back from him. You spun around on your heel before walking over to him, the smirk that was etched in his lips, didn’t last long as you flung your fist forward connecting with his face. You reached for you gun and handed it to Chris. ‘I’m going for a walk.’ You told them, they all nodded as they watched you turned back around and wiggle your fingers, checking them.

-

‘Where’s Y/N?’ Jessica questioned. ‘She went for a walk.’ Hondo stated. ‘When?’ Jessica questioned, he raised his wrist and looked at his watch. ‘An hour ago.’ He told her, he noticed the look on her face but then Nick walked in the room. ‘Maybe she’s given up.’ Nick commented, the bruises now turning purple around his eye. Hondo moved straight away pinning him to the wall. ‘Hondo.’ Jessica warned but looked at the others who shook their heads and continued on with what they were doing, so she stepped down but watched closely. ‘I’ve had enough of you. You come in here and we allow you to join our team, yet your out here bullying on of the members like a child.’ ‘You don’t know half the stuff that she has been through and you are lucky, very lucky, that you only got a single punch from her.’ Hondo said in his face, he swallowed thickly as Hondo let go of him. He shrugged his shoulders and stood up taller as Hondo turned around to Victor. ‘Can you trace her phone?’ He questioned, he typed away at the computer. ‘No, it’s switched off.’ He said, that when the team looked at each other before they nodded.

- 

As the first bow connected with your face, your head swung to the side, before he grabbed your cheeks making you look at him. ‘You gonna talk?’ He questioned you. ‘About what?’ You managed to get out with how hard he was squeezing your face, he narrowed his eyes as he looked at you. ‘The names of every person undercover.’ He said, you licked your dry lips before closing them, watching him closely. ‘You going to talk now?’ He questioned, you only continued to stare at him. He sighed before dropping your face before hitting you with the pole again, this time hitting your ribs. You simply closed your eyes and took deep breaths and thought back to when you first joined SWAT.

-

You walked into the building, carrying a bag with you but you came to a stop when you ‘You must be Y/N!’ You heard a voice behind you, you turned around nodded. ‘Yes ma’am.’ ‘Oh don’t call me ma’am, it’s Jessica.’ She said happily, you nodded. ‘Come with me and I’ll take you to the locker room and you can meet the team.’ She said, you lifted up your bag and flung it over your shoulder and followed her, looking at all the gadgets. ‘Go ahead, I need to tell Sammy something before I forget.’ She said, you nodded and carried on, pushing the doors open, you stepped into the locker room. ‘You look lost beautiful, maybe I could help you.’ A voice said, you looked up to see a group of five people watching you, you then made eye contact with the man with styled blonde hair. ‘You wish.’ You told him, he looked taken aback but then footsteps b=made him look behind you. ‘Hondo, Deacon, Street, Chris, Luca and Victor. I’d like you to meet your new team member, Y/N.’ Jessica introduced you to them, everyone laughed but Luca who looked shocked. ‘You look lost their Luca, need help?’ You questioned with a raised eyebrow, using his own words against him.

-

‘It’s Y/N.’ Jessica said as she answered the phone, putting it on speaker before sitting it on the table. ‘Y/N, where are you?’ Jessica questioned. ‘Ah, so that’s her name, it suits her.’ The mans voice said through the phone, they set about tracing the call immediately and trying to get voice recognition. ‘Who are you and what do you want?’ ‘I want you to hand over all the names of the undercovers and CI’s or your pretty little friend here, may no longer be able to speak.’ He threatened. ‘Okay, we’ll give them to you.’ Jessica said, the team looked at her. ‘Great, the abandoned warehouse on 56th and 2nd street in an hour, two of your men, unarmed. No vehicles or anyone else in sight or you’ll be picking up a dead body.’ He warned them, Jessica looked to Hondo, who nudged Jim’s shoulder, they nodded before taking their guns off 

- They opened the back doors to the van, Jim and Hondo watched as your bloodied body rested against the wall. The man grabbed your arm, before pulling your along, until your dropped to the ground. He shut the doors before walking over to Jim and Hondo, grabbing the envelope. He then turned around and walked back to the van getting in the front and speeding off. ‘Y/N.’ Hondo said as he fell to his knees at your head. ‘She’s got a weak pulse.’ Jim commented as he pressed two fingers to your neck, waiting for a pulse. ‘We need an ambulance here now.’ Hondo spoke into the radio. They both rested on their knees next to you, watching as your chest raised and fell ever so slightly.

-

You looked at the white car a few cars ahead of you, you then noticed the door opening. You quickly opened the door and got out. ‘What are you doing?’ Hondo asked you. You pointed to the cars in front of you and they all turned and looked out, noticing him run through the gaps between the cars. ‘Look, it’s grid lock. You guys can wait the flashing your lights and tooting your horn but I’m going by foot.’ You announced to them, they nodded as you flung the door open and took off down the road. You watched as he reached up and grabbed the back of the lorry pulling himself up onto the roof, running along it, before jumping down onto the cab and then onto the car in front. You heard the others leave the vehicle behind and start following. You tucked your gun away before you ran full speed down the outside of the cars, so he couldn’t see you. You could still see him, so you looked for a gap in the cars, which you didn’t see so you sighed before pushing yourself fast. When you were in align with him, you quickly crossed the cars and leapt over a bonnet of the car before tackling him to the ground satisfied to hear him groan. As you reached for your cuffs you heard heavy footsteps, you looked up at them and the people that were slowly emerging from their cars. ‘What?’ You asked, they shook their heads. ‘You flew like a bird.’ Hondo commented, you all heard Luca gasp before hitting Streets chest. You all turned and looked at him. ‘Got yourself a nickname, Birdie.’ He said, and you groaned, hoping you wouldn’t get a nickname, although you were glad that it wasn’t a bad one. ‘Really?’ You questioned, he shrugged his shoulders as watched you stand up and pull the man up behind him. You shook your head but smiled before you started walking the man back down between the cars, Luca and Hondo in front with Victor, Street behind you, Chris walking next to you. ‘You gonna chirp Birdie?’ The man in the cuffs asked, you turned to him. ‘You will when I hit your eggs.’ You answered with a straight face, before Chris burst out laughing the others smiling to themselves.

-

She walked through the compound, all eyes on her as the bruises hadn’t healed yet. The stitches still fresh, as everyone watched you walk through, you ignored them as you made your way through to the debriefing room. When you arrived at the door way you noticed Nick look at you before doing a double take, he stood up taller and on defence and the others got wind and turned to look at you. ‘You shouldn’t be here.’ Jessica commented. ‘I remembered something.’ You told them. ‘There’s a thing called a phone.’ Chris commented, you playfully glared at her. You walked around the table and stood in front of the table before typing into the computer with one hand. You then shared it to their screens. ‘They started speaking in a different language before they put me into the van, it only just came back to me.’ You told them, you typed the phrase into google translate, and let them hear it. They listened but it didn’t click. ‘Once we find him, he'll know not to mess with Dagger.’ You said, they looked at you as if you had two heads. You searched through the data base before clicking on a man, you let you see him. ‘Gregory ‘The Dagger’ Kowalski.’ You said, they then looked at you. ‘The crime boss.’ Victor commented, you nodded. ‘Who is he looking for?’ Luca questioned. ‘His younger brother, who went into police instead of the family business, putting a lot of the members behind bars.’ You explained to them, standing up taller, winching at the pain that ran through your side.

-

You sat on the metal bench, staring at the ground thinking about the past and what you had down. ‘You okay?’ Hondo questioned, you looked up at him and nodded before looking back down. You heard him walking over, before taking a seat next to you. ‘What are you thinking about?’ He questioned, you focussed on your fingers before looking up. ‘That maybe it’s time for me to retire.’ You said, and his head snapped up to you and watched you closely. ‘Don’t be doing this because of Nick.’ Hondo warned you, you shook your head. ‘Oh god no, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, but it’s what the doctor said to me.’ You said, he looked confused. ‘I’m lucky to be alive, and I am.’ You explained to him. ‘Y/N, it comes with the job.’ He said, you gave him a small smile. ‘I know, but I’m always the one that get kidnaps as everyone sees me as a weakness.’ You said, he looked at you and noticed that you had made up your mind, so he only nodded in understanding. ‘What will you do?’ He questioned, you shrugged your shoulders. ‘I have now idea, but first I’ll be going on a holiday that is long overdue.’ You said, he chuckled and nodded as he placed a hand on your knee. ‘You better send us a postcard.’ He commented and you laughed before nodding your head.

[jae-writes-fanfiction]

Loki x f!Reader  -   2685 words  -  Part 2 of 10

Warnings: Female characters are murdered. Violence, language, possibly disturbing imagery, and a brief description of  a panic attack. 

Notes: This is a longer story, new parts every Wednesday and Sunday, let me know what you think!

Summary: The Bastard Queen is summoned to a royal audience with the Allfather and his court where her father’s past crimes are recognized, and the fate of her contracted betrothal is revealed.

Tags: @dragonrosegardens @kybaeza

As you woke the room around you was completely foreign. You stretched languidly, clearing the sleep from your eyes. The dark silk of the sheets wrapped around your legs, matched your family colors, as did all the dressings within your apartments. The towels strung-up next to the bath matched, along with the cushioned chair at the writing desk in the corner.

A hint of smoke clung to your skin, making you blush with the memory of your dream. At least that was a small comfort amid the chaos. After they read your summons for the day, the horde of servants rushed into your room to bathe you, and dry your hair. Thankfully they allowed you to provide one of your own dresses for the occasion. You opted for a day gown, enchanted to be light as a feather and cooling on the skin. The fabric shifted from a dark garnet to deep purple in the light, drawing more attention to your hips where the fabric swayed the most. The sleeves were only to your elbows, and the bodice was laced up the front, permitting a slight glance at your chest. You waved your lady’s maid to your side, thankful for the familiarity the seclusion of your chambers provided.

“Halla, I will have to show them Mother’s death. And other, older things.” Your voice grew thick in remembrance, not of the hurtful comments, but the memories of secrets long ago buried.

“I know Jocelyn was your friend. And I’m sorry to replay these things in your presence let alone the prying eyes and loose tongues of an entire court.”

Halla nodded silently, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder signaling her understanding.

“Whatever I show, whatever they say. You cannot leave me there among strangers. If the spell is too much and I must rest only you are permitted to assist me.” You instructed solemnly, although the other servants had been kind, the air of ‘otherness’ still lingered over them.

Halla squeezed your shoulder and gestured to the sun’s position on the horizon. You had been instructed to appear within the royal court in supplication that morning, you feared the added attention was due to your rather impolite arrival.

As your steps echoed through the hushed halls, you ran a crystal talisman between your fingers and silently offered a prayer to your mother, your ancestors, and any gods you could invoke. The scrying spell you were attempting to use was simple enough but modified to show memories, as living images that filled viewer’s heads with their sounds. It relied entirely off your own energy, and the memories trapped within your own mind.

Formal members of the King’s guard barred your entrance. You had to wait with the other commoners until you were summoned before the court. With each passing second your thoughts grew louder, filling you with dread. Halla squeezed your hand, trying to pull you from your mind. But you couldn't ignore the persistent fears, bubbling over with grief.

You couldn’t stop thinking about your mother. How her gentle smile soothed all the storms within your soul in one look. How she tutored and fostered your magick even when it threatened to outgrow and consume you. How she protected you...

"Mother,” you prayed silently, digging your fingers into your palms, “I swear by the old gods and all the stars in the sky, I will have our justice.” Your throat tightened as rage shook through your body, “Goddess, he’s taken too much from us,” you pleaded fervently, “I will do whatever needed. I’ll kill him if you see fit.” You gasped for air, noticing you’d been holding your breath. Quietly you whispered your last words to your goddess, “please do not let my family have died in vain.”

Your prayer echoed through your mind, silencing the other thoughts. Nothing here could hurt you, there was nothing more to lose. As you settled into your resolution, the guards called your name.

As a child you learned how to walk with your hips, so that an entire room might fall in love with your grace no matter your shape or the softness of your body. Although your future rested inside the room, you were done trying to win people over. You held your head high and oozed confidence in each step; in every way presenting the presence of a King, in every way your father couldn’t.

An appointed spokesperson explained to the court, the specifications of your spell, and that members of the courts and councils could proffer questions after the demonstration. Turning to you, they asked why you were showing these memories.

“To satisfy the questions of my birth and the guilt of my Mother’s consort: so your ‘King’ might better decide how to act in regard to the fraudulent contract.”

Your voice was clear, focused and factual. A few of the women in the gallery feigned gasps at your boldness. You almost rolled your eyes at their dramatics, and hoped whoever they were acting for was worth the embarrassment.

When you were instructed to cast your spell you carefully lined a small circle on the ground with salt and placed your talisman in the center.

With a few well placed gestures a smoke-like screen appeared and those who looked at it were drawn into the spell, seeing the memories you chose.

The first memory held the striking image of your mother, in all her regal glory. The two of you sat in the library reading through her favorite play. During a break your mother rang for tea but instead of her lady in waiting, was treated by your father. He’d brought only the one cup, “Sorry little one, just for Ro right now.” His words sparked an unsettling feeling in your stomach while your mother, surprised at the gesture, thanked him and drank the tea.

He retreated immediately, and although you couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling returned to your reading. Halfway through the climax, where the prince seeks revenge for his father’s murder, your mother stopped breathing. Just for a moment but your felt the change in the air.  Your magick sparked along your skin and worry set in.  

She appeared asleep, unusual for this play which usually stirred her spirits until the two of you were reading together. Terrified of what you might feel you hesitantly took her hand in yours, and screamed from the immense pain you could sense.

You leapt away from her out of instinct, your wavering and mumbling voice throwing spells and prayers towards her, while screaming for help. Nothing was working. None of the spells of restoration, health, or stasis.

“Little-One what’ve you done?” Your father’s voice interrupted your panicked administrations. You grabbed his hand and tried to have him help you. Pleading with him for her life as servants entered and someone ran for the doctor.

“At this point,” he sneered at you, “I’d try necromancy instead of those charms.” You turned quickly and screamed for him to leave, before returning to your mother. You knelt on the ground and held her limp hands in yours, her skin starting to discolor. You recited countless incantations, your voice growing hoarse limbs heavy with despair. She never woke up, remaining unresponsive for two more days before her death. The memory ended with her body shrouded in hazy gauze and flowers, laid out for her wake.

The next memory was from your younger years, you were running circles around your mother, catching butterflies. Tiny footfalls interrupted the idyllic scene as another little girl entered the memory. She appeared to be your duplicate, an exact copy, your twin Jocelyn. In the background your father lingered in the shade of a barren tree, listing as your sister asked “mumma why can’t I make the pretty lights dance like sissy does?”

The sound of your mother’s voice nearly sent you reeling. “You’ll understand when you’re older, but it’s how the gods decided who will become Queen, and who will become her advisor.”

“Oh! Like you and Aunt Dahlia?”

Your mother nodded while the child giggled, “Well that’s okay, I don’t want to be queen anyway! I wanna be a dancer!” Her little voice echoed as she twirled around.

The memory changed to the next night, you were in the library learning a new spell. Your mother guided your fingers over the runes, committing their shape to memory when a surprised scream tore through the castle followed by a sickening thud and torturous silence.

Your mother bade you stay put, while leaving to inspect the commotion. But her reverberating sobs commanded your frightened feet to move. You had never heard your mother cry before. The heap of tangled skirts at the bottom of the stairs confused you, convincing you to step closer. It was only then you noticed the all too familiar strands of hair, and the small fingers twisted into strange angles.

A flurry of servants crowded into the space, attending to your crumpled sister, and inconsolable mother. You quietly tugged on your mother’s skirt, “What will happen to us now mumma?”

“More importantly,” your father interrupted from the top of the stairs, “What will happen to the kingdom?” No one had heard his approach but how could they over the sobs?

Your mother shot a glare at him, before turning to kneel and hold your hands. She recounted your first brush with death, a little bird trapped in brambles, and how just like that, once the doctor came and saw Jocelyn, together you’d get to say goodbye, all the while tears in her eyes.

“But if she isn’t gonna come back I’ll have to pick a new advisor!” You said pouting, yet making sure to enunciate the syllables carefully, still to young to understand the permanence of death. The memory didn’t retain your mother’s response, as your focus was drawn by a strange noise. Your father’s grip on the railing had tightened with your question, the old wood splintering angrily into his hand.

Behind him a young maid darted into view. Her eyes were frantic searching for your mother, only to have her freeze upon being confronted with your father.

Her fear was so evident, she squeaked trying to back away. Unwilling to share the memories of a child’s funeral you let the image fade before ending the spell.

“He killed the wrong sister.” You spoke, pulling the court’s attention to you.

“It is our law that if the gods deemed none of our heirs deserving of magick, that their Queen Mother might rule instead... without a Queen Mother, an advisor or trusted consort might act as regent until the next successor is named.”

You kept your eyes trained forward, hoping the direct attention would prompt the Allfather’s response.

“Are there any who could speak to these assertions?” A noble asked pointedly filling the empty space.

“Yes, what of the servant? Can she not be produced to confirm your suspicions?” Another chimed in, pushing the matter. You nodded and gestured for Halla to approach you. Her face was stained with fresh tears, her heart heavy with renewed grief. You hoped, to some end justice would prevail so the gods might forgive what you were about to do.

“This is the woman in question. After the incident she became my personal companion and Lady/s maid-“

“And why can’t she tell us herself!”

“Because,” you said taking a measured breath to steady your resolve, “the next morning she was found, her tongue cut out.” You glanced in her direction as Halla sorrowfully opened her mouth to the abject horror of your questioners.

Odin struck his staff against the floor, demanding silence as he prepared his response. “No proof has been shown against this contract, only speculation, and I’ll not interfere in another kingdom’s political entrapments.” He spoke carefully, weighing all the possible meanings of each word.

You interjected politely, “Allfather, I was not asking you to. I simply wanted you to know from whom you’ve bought me.”

The clever assertion almost brought a smile to the King’s face. Although you had no way of knowing his previous decision, your wit comforted him that he was at least giving his kingdom someone with intelligence.

“That being said, in honoring this arrangement I’m forced to acknowledge the claims of your birth. With the context you have provided us, It would disgrace your Queen Mother and your right as her heir to pawn you off to some noble already home with two wives.”

You almost laughed aloud, thinking at least that oddly specific fear was addressed.

“Instead I’d rather strengthen this alliance, in marrying my son.”

“Ah yes,” you thought, “the absentee hero.” You were thankful to stay within the familiar and welcoming household, and more grateful still for the support towards your heritage. But, Gods that would be boring.  Marrying Thor would be marrying a fleeting bird. His appearances on Asgard were scattered and unpredictable, despite the advantageous match it would condemn you to the life of a favored toy. To be used and remembered at the whims of an altogether preoccupied man.

“My Lady, consider this my concession that you will make a formidable Queen-“

“My King would that really be appropriate? A woman of disputed heritage as our Queen?” One of the previous questioners objected, utterly appalled.

Obviously you had missed some subtext. You had assumed the same thing, and took his assertions as your betrothal to Thor. You tried to keep your face stoic amid the pleasant but shocking revelation, that he preferred you wed Loki.  For all your efforts you couldn’t prevent the slight flush that colored your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

“I have found her heritage admissible. And am I not your king?”

The man’s hurried apology and departure signaled a change in tone, the other nobles having a new scandal to gossip about. One of their own challenged the King’s authority, only to run away.

“Now barring anymore interruptions,” Odin continued, a jovial light dancing at the corners of his eyes, “Upon his coronation you will be married to Loki Odinson; Prince of Asgard, So says your King.” Despite his genial tone, the pit of your stomach turned feeling the courtroom on edge awaiting your response. Of course even after the replaying of traumas, and discussion of legitimacy, you were still expected to follow the rules of polite society.

“Allfather, I thank thee. This concession is more than I expected. I hope I prove worthy of your assertions.” You prayed to all the gods of your world, the tremble in your voice wasn’t heard. You had not expected to be Queen, of this place or any. You feared, in doing so he had doomed your chances of returning home. You couldn’t be the Queen of two places so far apart. Queens couldn’t overthrow their fathers or go to war.

You couldn’t compose your loud thoughts as Halla lead you from the room. It wasn’t a bad match, under any other circumstances you’d be thrilled with the prospects of taking a King as your consort. But you weren’t taking a consort, you were being given as a bride. 

Waves of sound echoed in your ears mostly your thoughts but partially something else, potentially someone else you couldn’t tell, the noises were all a stabbing crescendo of tangled words and fears of failure building up and up and up until you were swimming in noise and you couldn’t breathe. Oh gods you couldn’t breathe and your chest restricted so that your heart hurt and then- you were falling.

Thankfully, you were already down the hallway and Halla caught you in enough time. Your body was failing you, you were dying- that had to be it. Halla guided your shaking form behind a pillar away from prying eyes. She gripped your hand, tracing the rune for “panic” slowly and deliberately until your breathing slowed, and you could think again.

You whispered your thanks, and let Halla lead you to your room and into bed. Despite the midday sun peering through from the balcony, your mind was exhausted and sleep quickly followed.

[fandomwtightsunderneath]

Bad At Love | JBB

Summary: Based on Halsey’s “Bad At Love”. Reader has always been bad at love. Bucky being her best friend, realized he might be just as bad at love.

A/N: I’m stupidly obsessed with Halsey. Neither the song nor the characters belong to me (unfortunately). Lyrics will be italicized and bolded.

Word Count: 1882

Warnings: Cursing/swearing, controlling douche

Got a boy back home in Michigan

And it tastes like Jack when I'm kissing him

[Y/N] walked through the entry hall of her boyfriend’s apartment. Even from outside the strong smell of cigars permeated the air.

Her boyfriend, Greg, was hosting his weekly poker game. All of his friends had come over to hang out, get drunk, and try to clean out the others’ pockets. Usually [Y/N] tried to avoid coming over during his weekly guys’ night, but she had accidentally left her phone charger here last night.

Creeping up the stairs of the apartment she tried not to make a noise, she didn’t want to mess up the flow of boy’s night.

Smiling triumphantly at the charger in her hand, she made her way back down the stairs. Freezing at the bottom of the stairs when she heard her name. [Y/N] released a breath she was holding when she realized that she hadn’t been caught, they were just talking about her.

“Greg! Seriously! [Y/N]?! I mean come on man…” one of his friends boasted.

“What? What about her?” Greg’s voice became defensive.

“[Y/N]? She’s sort of a bore man, not even that good looking.”  another one of them retorted.

Although [Y/N] could feel tears filling her eyes, she could feel anger shooting up her spine.

“Yeah seriously Greg. I mean is she at least a good lay?” The group burst out laughing.

She made her way over to the closed doors of the den where she knew they were situated. Opening the door as loudly as she could announcing her arrival.

“Hey boys!” Her voice chipped coldly. They quickly quieted down, looking amongst themselves.

“Hey babe!” Greg jumped up as quickly as he could. Kissing her on the lips, before ushering her back through the doors.

Behind her, she could hear the quiet whispers, “do you think she heard us?” “How long has she been standing there?”

“Hey [Y/N], what’s up? You know it’s guy’s poker night.” Greg nervously laughed.

Holding up her charger, “I forgot my phone charger.”

So I told him that I never really liked his friends

Now he's gone and he's calling me a bitch again

Forcing herself to smile, she met his eyes. “I don’t like them. Don’t expect me to ever like them.” She said loud enough for the guys in the den to flinch.

Turning on her heel she headed to the door, “goodbye Gregory.”

As the door began to close she could hear the guys hounding, “WHAT A BITCH.”

Pulling out her phone, [Y/N] dialed one of her best friends. “Buck? Can you come pick me up?” Her voice began to crack.

“Text me the address I’ll be there, doll. You okay?”

“No.” A sob ripping through you.

15 minutes later, Bucky’s car rolled up.  Jumping out of the driver’s seat, his arms wrapped [Y/N] in a tight embrace. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. “I’m bad at love, Buck.” She mumbled into his shirt.

There's a guy that lives in a garden state

And he told me that we make it 'til we graduate

It had been a few weeks after ending things with Greg when [Y/N] felt like she needed to move on.

Her best friend, Wanda, set her up on a blind date with one of her coworkers, Brock Rumlow. Wanda didn’t really expect them to go anywhere in terms of relationship, just a palette cleansing date. Getting [Y/N] out of the house, getting her back in the game.

Wanda and Bucky had been there helping her get ready for her date. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful she looked with a smile on her face. He grit his teeth at the remembrance of all the crying she had been doing the last couple of weeks.

Wanda couldn’t help but notice Bucky’s tense shoulders when they watched [Y/N] leave for her date. Her two friends were idiots for not seeing each other as possible partners.

Rumlow had been aggressively confident during the date. Ordering [Y/N]’s drinks and food for her.

He seemed to want to dominate every aspect of the date. And every aspect of the next date. And the next. And the next three.

[Y/N] had began to grow tired of his possessive nature. She had only been seeing Rumlow for 3 weeks, when he dropped a bomb on her.

So I told him the music would be worth the wait

But he wants me in the kitchen with a dinner plate

“[Y/N]. I like you. I can definitely see us going somewhere.”

“Well -” She began to argue.

“No. Don’t interrupt me. I can see a future with us. I want you to move into my place. And I want you to stop working, I’ll provide for you. I think you would make the most beautiful housewife.” His eyes bore into hers.

“No.” [Y/N] snapped.

Rumlow’s eyes grew. “I’m not going to uproot my life because that’s what you want, Brock. I am entitled to MY OWN LIFE. I’m not some trophy that you can put on a shelf.”

[Y/N] stood up and stomped away, pulling out her phone she quickly dialed Wanda, “I’m going to be there in 15 minutes.”

Sitting amongst her friends at Wanda’s apartment [Y/N] couldn’t help but groan out loud.

“Not to rub salt in the wound [Y/N], but how could you not tell that that douchebag was an asshole?” Tony asked before taking a long sip from his whiskey.

“Because I’m bad at love, Tony.”

Wanda looked to her right only to find Bucky’s jaw clenched. His eyes were trained on [Y/N]’s puffy eyes.

“You should tell her, you know.” Wanda’s whisper was barely audible to anyone other than the man sitting next to her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sipped his own glass of alcohol.

I believe, I believe, I believe, I believe

That we're meant to be

“You can play ignorant all you want. But I can see it. You guys are meant to be.” Wanda smiled before getting up to walk over to the moping girl.

Bucky seem to have less and less control over his feelings for [Y/N] with every passing day. No, he reminded himself. She had just gone through another break up. He had to give her time to grieve the relationship.

He had to be there for her, as one of her best friends.

But jealousy, jealousy, jealousy, jealousy

Get the best of me

Bucky couldn’t help but reflect on [Y/N]’s current situation. How could any fool think that it was a good idea to leash her to being a housewife? [Y/N] was independent, outspoken, and in love with her job. There was no changing that, Bucky couldn’t help but admire your ambition.

Just thinking about Rumlow shackling her to a stove to cook and clean caused Bucky’s blood to boil.

He hadn’t even noticed his tight grip on his glass, until it broke.

“OMG! Bucky! Are you okay?” Everyone’s attention turn towards him.

From across the room he met Wanda’s eyes. A smug smirk painted on her face.

“Hey Buck?”

“Doll?”

They had been out to brunch a week after the Rumlow incident. [Y/N] had been sulking, and Bucky had to drag her out of her house.

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend? I mean I know you date on and off, but in all of the time that we’ve been friends I don’t ever recall you having a girlfriend.” Bucky froze at her question.

[Y/N] didn’t know why she was asking Bucky this question. Maybe she was tired of dwelling on the fact that she was once again single. But Bucky was one of her best friends, and she never understood how someone as amazing as him could remain single.

Got a girl with California eyes

And I thought that she could really be the one this time

“What about that girl from California? What was her name again…? Madison! What about her? She seemed really into you. What went wrong with her?” [Y/N] inquired.

Madison, Bucky remembered. He had gone on 3 dates with her before introducing her to his friend group. She was blonde, tall, and tan. She was fun, he remembered.

For a while Bucky thought he could have fallen in love with Madison, but something held him back.

But I never got the chance to make her mine

Because she fell in love with little thin white lines

Madison had fallen in love with Bucky almost instantly, but he felt deep in his bones that she was more so in love with the idea of being in love with Bucky.

Plus even when he pushed her blonde hair out of her face, he couldn’t help but imagine [Y/H/C]. When he leaned down to kiss her, he always imagined that [Y/H] was the perfect height and she didn’t quite match it just right. When he caressed her tan skin, he couldn’t help but imagine [Y/S/C] slipping passed his fingers.

“She just wasn’t the perfect match. She was more in love with being in love.” Bucky continued. Looking at [Y/N] as she pondered once more.

London girl with an attitude

We never told no one but we look so cute

She lit up once more when she recalled another perfect partner for Bucky, “what about Elizabeth? The girl from London? Remember? She had those colorful highlights?”

Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle at [Y/N]’s excitement.

“We were kind of cute together right?” He raised his eyebrow.

After Bucky said that, something gross began to bubble in [Y/N]’s stomach.

[Y/N] just couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness, the idea of Bucky thinking he’d be cute with another person was too strange.

Both got way better things to do

But I always think about it when I'm riding through

He thought for a moment before speaking, “she was working with the UN, working odd hours. We could never really go on regular dates. We both had other things to do. Plus she had one of those hard ass attitudes.”

“So what? I have a hard ass attitude!” [Y/N] argued.

“Exactly. Do I need ANOTHER hard ass attitude around me all the time, doll?” He joked. [Y/N] couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

Elizabeth had actually pointed something out to him before they broke up. She had noticed that Bucky only seemed to light up when [Y/N] walked into the room. She had noticed that Bucky’s eyes always sought out [Y/N] when he entered a room. She had noticed that [Y/N] had been the first person her texted in the morning and the last person he texted in the night.

“You know what though? I do still talk to Elizabeth actually.” He noticed [Y/N]’s frown, “as friends! What? Are you jealous?”

[Y/N] puffed out her cheeks, “no, who could ever be jealous for someone like you, jerk?!”

She could feel something brush her hand on the table. Looking at it, she realized that Bucky had moved to gently hold her hand.

“I think I don’t have a girlfriend because I don’t say what I need to say when I need to say it. I think I don’t have a girlfriend, because I think I’m bad at love, too.” Bucky looked straight into her eyes.

[avengerofyourheart]

In the Arms of Justice Pt 18 (Cop!Bucky x reader)

Characters: reader x Detective Barnes, Natasha, Clint, Rumlow.

Summary: Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

Warnings: Mortal peril, bit of fluff. Some anxiety, also blood, murder, weapon and death mentions (none of it graphic), violence against women, gritty police drama tv show kind of feel.

Word Count: 1627

Tags at the bottom. TAG LIST IS CLOSED, I’M SO SORRY.

A/N: I know ya’ll were pretty mad at me after the last cliff hanger, but I hope this makes up for it somewhat! This part is a bit wordy, but has quite a few answers you’ve been wanting so yay for that, I hope! Any feedback is appreciated, as always! Love you guys!! <3

<<< Part 17   Part 18   Part 19>>> 

In the Arms of Justice Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

______________________________________________

Previously: 

Your captor swore under his breath, now seeing that he wasn’t going to win. There was a moment of silence. A stalemate. Bucky held your gaze and you saw the debate running through his mind. If he aimed for Rumlow, he would likely hit you, too, but there was no way he could let him go, either. He needed a distraction. You had to catch Rumlow off guard, gain the element of surprise.

That was when you knew what had to happen. Staring into the brilliant azure stare of the detective, you offered a little smile, followed by the smallest of nods. His eyebrows raised, a flicker of fear upon his face. You inhaled the best you could and then made sure he was watching as you mouthed the following words.

Three…

Two…

One…

“NO!”

_________________

It all happened so fast and yet in slow motion simultaneously. Bucky’s objection rang out as you unexpectedly threw your weight to the left and went limp in your captor’s arms, allowing your legs to collapse. Catching Rumlow off guard, he could no longer hold you up, now failing to hide behind you.

Sharp pain blossomed in your side as a gunshot rang out, causing the arm around you to loosen. You fell to the concrete floor in a heap, hearing the sound of a thud next to you a second later.

Chaotic footsteps and shouting echoed throughout the parking garage once again as a buzzing in your ears began. Warm hands clutched your face, your eyes fluttering closed as a sudden tiredness took over. A voice tried to call to you, but it sounded too far away.

Sleep beckoned. You only wanted to rest a moment. The tempting tendrils of unconsciousness slowly claimed you.

Then everything went dark.

_________________

A constant, rhythmic beeping was the first sensation to permeate your comfortable slumber, annoyance gathering your brows with a frown. As the fog lifted, you felt the crisp, stiff sheets you were lying on and the overwhelming scent of disinfectant assaulted your nose. Turning your head to the side, you blinked at the harsh, unnatural light until your vision cleared.

Someone sat at your bedside, his head resting on the bed near your hip as he leaned forward awkwardly in the chair. His chestnut locks were mussed, face turned away from you. He clasped your hand tightly even in sleep, you noticed with a smile.

You reached across your body with the other hand to comb fingers through his silky strands, causing him to stir with a groan. Slowly sitting up from his cramped position, he rubbed a hand over his face before his eyes met yours, then widening in surprise.

“Y/N! Oh my…oh thank God,” Bucky cried out, touching his cheek to your hand before launching out of his seat to kiss your lips gently, but passionately before pulling away an inch.

“Hi,” you croaked in greeting through your parched throat with a tired smile.

“Hey, yourself,” he grinned, his forehead pressed against yours. “How are you feeling?”

“Um…okay, I guess. A little groggy. How long was I out?” you asked, then wincing as you tried to twist your abdomen toward him.

“Careful! Don’t want to pop your stitches,” he warned calmly. “About 16 hours. I’m glad you’re awake and feeling alright cause now we can talk about WHAT THE HELL YOU WERE THINKING, PUTTING YOURSELF IN HARM’S WAY,” he bellowed at you, finally releasing your hand.

He continued to rant as he paced on the floor beside your bed.

“How could you have been so reckless? You willingly allowed yourself to be alone with a known serial killer and were about to leave the building with him headed to God knows where, if we hadn’t found you first! I mean, how could you do that, Y/N? How could you act so foolishly?” he demanded. Finished speaking, he finally looked to you for answers.

You took the deepest breath the tightness in your side would allow before replying. “Did you get him?”

“What?” he asked, perplexed.

“Is he in custody?”

“I…yeah. We got him. He’s actually a few floors down, handcuffed to a bed right now and hopefully in a lot of pain,”  he reported with a dark expression.

“Okay. Then it was worth the risk,” you stated with a shrug.

He scoffed in disbelief. “Wha…No! It wasn’t! We had him surrounded, there had to have been another way that didn’t involve you getting stabbed and winding up in the hospital! This is my job, Y/N. We could’ve…I mean…I was supposed to keep you safe,” he spoke the last words dejectedly as he slumped into the chair, dropping his head in his hands.

“Bucky…” you whispered, reaching for him. “You did protect me. You came for me like you always have. Seeing you gave me the strength to do what I did. I knew you’d save me.”

He finally met your eyes with a teary smile, grasping your hand in his.

“What actually happened with Rumlow?” you asked. “It’s all bit fuzzy still. And how did you make it in time?”

He took a deep breath. “Well. After the false alarm in Harlem, we canvassed Rumlow’s old neighborhood but came up with nothing, so I decided to head your way and maybe relieve Barton from duty for a few hours. But when I called, he didn’t answer so I tried your cell. I hadn’t received a text in a while from you so I got worried. I called you with no answer so I tried Barton again. He finally picked up and told me about the armed robbery, and how he made sure the perp wouldn’t get past security. I was pissed he left you alone, but knew he was nearby at least. That was when I got a call from…you, actually. Or your phone at least. It was your boss, what’s her name? Natalie?”

“Natasha? How…”

“Right, Natasha,” he hurriedly continued on. “She saw my string of worried texts and decided to call me as you requested, I guess? She said you were in with a client but seemed to be concerned about a missed call. I asked her to describe the client, which she said she couldn’t do out of confidentiality but when I mentioned certain characteristics related to our perp including the scar on his left cheek, she chimed in and thought it might be the same man.”

He finally took a breath while your mind was whirling. You squeezed his hand and he was motivated to finish his story.

“We were about 10 minutes away when we got a call from dispatch about a suspicious vehicle parked in the garage of your building. We had put out an APB regarding any possible transportation Rumlow might have at his disposal, which included his mother’s car, so the license plate was flagged and security called us. Just as we were screeching to a halt outside the building, your boss called again saying you had just left with the man and you were acting strange. Our best guess was he would go to the car with you or make a run for it so that’s why I headed for the garage while Steve’s team covered the exits. I’m glad we were right,” he huffed out an exhausted sigh.

You briefly consider what might have happened if Bucky’s timing wasn’t so impeccable, shuddering at the thought.

“I heard a gunshot, I think…” you squint in remembrance.

“That was me,” he boasted with a smirk. “I put a bullet in that bastard’s shoulder. Non-lethal on purpose, of course. I want him to confess his crimes, give closure to the grieving families, and rot for the rest of his life. Death is too kind for him,” he spat the words out bitterly, now done with his tale.

After a short silence for you to process this, you allowed yourself a smile. “You’re amazing, do you know that?”

Bucky ducked his head in embarrassment, a blush rising in his face. In response he pressed a kiss to your palm and then pressed it to his cheek as he smiled brightly at you. “I’m still mad at you,” he stated, trying to muster up some anger in his tired state.

“I understand, but I don’t regret it,” you replied, holding strong to your conviction. “Something had to be done.”

He huffed out a small sigh of frustration. “Yeah, but it didn’t have to be you. I mean, what if I hadn’t made it in time? How could I live with myself if….” he trailed off, his voice breaking.

“I would have fought,” you answered without a doubt. “I wasn’t going with him like a lamb to the slaughter. I wasn’t going down without a fight. I would have found an opportunity and done what I had to survive.”

Nodding as he tried to blink back tears, he agreed, “I know you would have.” He placed a hand to side of your face, brushing a thumb across your cheekbone.

“I was curious about one thing…” you asked tentatively.  

“Ask away.”

“Tell me…how many people coming out of the elevator did you scare half to death before we arrived?” you asked with a cheeky grin.

He threw his head back in laughter, clapping a hand over his chest. “Only the one. This guy looked like he was about to wet himself and ‘fess up about all his unpaid parking tickets.”

“Poor guy,” you said with a laugh, then wincing as you held your wounded side. Laughing wasn’t the best idea.

Bucky leaned forward once again to capture your lips with his, placing a hand against your neck to deepen the kiss a moment before pulling away.

“You scared me, Y/N. Don’t you dare do that again. I thought I was going to lose you just when I had found you,” he confessed, murmuring against your lips.

“I’m sorry,” you said, pulling away. “But hey, matching abdomen scars, huh?” you grinned up at him.

He paused, then realizing that you and he now had wounds on the same side of your lower back: him with a previous gunshot wound and you from a knife. He chuckled briefly.

“Well, that’s not the kind of bonding I thought would occur this early in a relationship, but…”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, resuming the kiss.  

Just then, the hospital door opened and you two broke apart.

But it was too late. There was a witness to your loving embrace.

___________

Part 19>>> 

__________________________________________________

Whoops. hehe. Again with the cliffhanger, I know!!! But at least no on his in mortal peril this time. :D And hey, I found some fluff! I knew it was somewhere arround here... ;) Please let me know your thoughts, I’d love to hear them!! Next part is up Friday and theres at least one more after that, maybe two! I love you guys!! <3

Permanent Tag List and AoJ tag list are CLOSED. I’M SORRY. 

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[seriouslyhooked]

Getaway (The CS Mixtape) Part 129/?

Series of CS oneshots inspired by music. Collection on FF Here.

A/N: Reader prompted AU where Emma works in a bar and though she doesn’t need saving, she does need to get the hell out of dodge. Enter Killian Jones, a man on the wrong side of the law, who’s been tempting Emma since he fist stepped into town two weeks ago. I’ve decided to couple this chapter with the song ‘Getaway’ by Tritonal and Angel Taylor since my reader didn’t give a specific song.  

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t pretend you haven’t been making eyes at me all night long.”

It took a herculean effort for Emma not to actively hurl at that proposition from the sleazy guy across the bar who’d introduced himself as Walsh before setting down to drink almost a full bottle of their cheapest scotch. He was three sheets to the wind, handsy with every woman in here, and a royal loser as far as Emma was concerned, yet here he sat, insisting he had a chance with her. Leave it to a man to be that freaking delusional.

Thanks to this hole-in-the-wall bar being one of the only places in a fifty-mile radius, and its easy access to a cross-country highway, Emma had barely any regulars and a whole host of characters that came in here night in and night out. She’d discovered over her three months of being on staff at Gold’s that daytime shifts were almost always better. Sometimes they got families in the restaurant portion for lunch or at least more people who weren’t actively trying to get hammered, but at night the crowds were hit or miss. Tonight was a definite miss… well, aside from one person.

Emma glanced towards the back corner of the bar and felt the same swarming of butterflies low in her gut when she did. The familiar stranger who’d been in town for about two weeks was here, and right now his eyes were on her and the man who was giving her all this grief. Emma could practically feel the anger radiating off of him, but when she looked at him it eased some and the clench in his jaw lessened. She offered him a small smile and mouthed the word ‘refill’ to him in a silent question, but he shook his head and offered her a smile of his own. The punch it packed was inescapable, and before Emma could do something stupid like blush in the face of it, she tore her gaze away from him.

“That man is downright sinful,” Emma’s coworker Ruby offered and Emma was definitely in agreement with that assessment. It was one of many words she’d use to describe him, but sinful just seemed to have the right amount of edge to do him justice.

“You said it.”

Ruby looked surprised at Emma’s engaging with thoughts on the customers at all, but soon after delight lit up the brunette’s features. Since Emma first set foot in this bar Ruby had been trying to get through to her somehow, but Emma kept her an arms length away, not because she didn’t like Ruby, but because she wasn’t going to be here long. Three months was already way past her norm, but things had diverted from Emma’s plan, and to make a very long story short she didn’t have a mode of transport out of this podunk town save for hitchhiking with one of the less than stellar characters who stopped in here for a spell. She was still a few weeks off from having the money to do so, and part of Emma was glad, because if she had left on her normal timetable, she never would have met him.

Emma’s eyes looked back up to the stranger across the room and when she did his eyes were still on her. He didn’t try to hide his interest, but Emma had to wonder about him. For two long weeks he’d been coming into this bar, at first with other friends of his who had now since left, but other than a few words when he ordered and when he left each night he didn’t say much to her. She still didn’t even know his name and she found herself wanting to know that and so much more about him.

“Seems like someone’s interested,” Ruby’s words pulled Emma back from her new favorite pastime of trying to guess what a man like that could possibly call himself.

There was no reason to try and deny this guy’s brand of sex appeal. Emma had met a lot of people in her life, mostly because she never stayed in one place for long, but none of them were like him. Dark hair, a trimmed but prominent beard, and eyes so blue they put every remembrance she had of the ocean to shame, made him certifiably attractive but then there was the rest of him.

He had the most commanding presence that denied anyone the chance to overlook him, but Emma noticed that he tried to blend in. The only person he ever went out of his way to speak with at all was Emma. He always sat himself in her sections or waited until she could be the one to see him, but then every time they spoke he was a complete gentleman. He didn’t pry or get overly flirtatious, and Emma found herself wishing he would. He looked one way and acted another, and Emma was almost desperate to find out who he really was underneath it all.

The man was also seemingly averse to color, opting for black and occasionally dark blues every time she’d seen him (which was every day since he first rode into town on that bike of his), and he had the leather to go with that chopper. He had bad boy written all over him between the tattoos and the slight trace of a scar on his face, but Emma didn’t mind. Despite her usual aversion to… well, everyone, Emma kept getting pulled back into this guy’s orbit. He hadn’t been far from her thoughts in two weeks, and that left her a little dizzy and more than a bit curious.

“Maybe I am,” Emma finally countered and Ruby slapped her hand loudly on the bar and put her other hand on her hip.

“Okay well that does it. You are going to talk to him and you’re going to ask him two things: first, what is a hunk like that is doing camped out in this craptastic town? And two why hasn’t he made a move when he clearly wants to?”

“Ruby I don’t think -,” Emma was going to counter that she was at work and that more importantly she didn’t do things like this, but Ruby interrupted her with a mere wave of her hand.

“Good, don’t think,” Ruby said as she poured two shots out for Emma and her. She handed one to Emma and continued with her plan. “You’re going to take that drink, take your little bit of liquid courage, and change your fate. Because if you don’t I will snatch him up for myself.”

“Yeah right. And leave your sheriff? I don’t think so.”

Ruby grinned at the mention of Graham, her reason for staying in this town when she might otherwise like to be somewhere else. Graham was the law around here, and he had been for about a year, but him and Ruby had plans to move on to greener pastures in another year or so. Ruby truly loved him despite her insinuation to the contrary, so Emma knew her threat was empty, but she still did not like the idea of any woman approaching her stranger. Oh god – now she was getting territorial over a guy whose name she didn’t even know? This was rich, and probably really bad.

“Come on, Emma. Enough stalling. Go and show that guy you’re no damsel in distress. You’re acting like you’ve never asked for a guys number before.”

Emma decided not to tell Ruby that she actually hadn’t. You didn’t really need numbers when your love life up to this point consisted of youthful infatuations and one-night stands that never lived past the next morning. But the idea of just one night with this guy was less than Emma wanted, and that was only mildly petrifying.

“Play all you want, darling, but I know you want me,” the same drunk said from down the counter, interrupting Emma and Ruby and pulling an eye roll from both women.

“What I want is a boss who lets us kick out assholes, instead of insisting everyone who pays can stay,” Emma offered to Ruby, ignoring the guy some more as she downed her shot and felt the heat scorching the back of her throat. She never drank on the job, but Ruby was right. She needed this.

“From your lips to God’s ears,” Ruby added as she tossed her own drink back and then she smiled again, offering Emma a tray of refills for a group across the way. “Table eight is right by your stranger if you want to go…”

“He’s not my anything,” Emma added though she couldn’t ignore the stirring in her heart that came when Ruby made the connection. Her eyes flicked back in his direction and he was still watching her, still just as intense as he ever was.

“You could change that. All you have to do is let him in.”

Ruby said that like it was easy, but if she knew Emma past the workplace sort-of friendship they’d formed, she’d know it was anything but. Life had taught Emma time and time again that she couldn’t just give herself away. Walls might make living lonely, but they also served a purpose. They kept her safe and whole and above the deluge of emotions that would come if she ever really had to face her past or all that was missing from her present.

Yet there was also a tiny voice in the back of Emma’s mind that said Ruby was right. It might not be easy, and it definitely wasn’t her M.O. but Emma could make a choice to take a risk. She could be braver and put herself out there. Who knew? Maybe the bad boy biker had more in common with a lost girl running from her own demons than she thought. Maybe there were more than a handful of moments in store for them. Maybe there was a future.

The thought inspired Emma to take the tray and to move around the bar, but as she did, she felt the unwanted hands of her not so secret admirer from the bar on her ass. Immediately she twisted, pinning Walsh with an angry stare and a serious tone that would stop any sensible person dead in their tracks.

“Don’t touch me.”

The bar went quiet except for the sound of someone rising to their feet. Emma didn’t even have to look back to know it was her stranger. She just sensed it and felt her own courage rising when she did. He had her back if she needed it, and even if she was more than capable of taking care of herself, that thought eased some of the knots in her chest that came from someone trying to take advantage of her, no matter how smarmy or weak he was underneath the unfounded swagger.

“Now come on darlin’, there’s no need to play so hard to get.”

Walsh moved for her again and Emma tossed the tray to the empty table beside her with a loud clang while she twisted his arm painfully and put him up against the counter. He groaned out a sound of pain as his face planted into the bar top, and though Emma didn’t delight in hurting anyone, she did appreciate that it meant he wasn’t able to put his hands on her again.

“I’m not playing with you. Touch me again and you will see just how serious I am.”

“Miss Swan!” Emma glanced up to the owner of this bar who went by Mr. Gold (though after a few months of working here, Emma was pretty sure that was an alias meant to make him seem grander than he was) who sneered at her. “Let the man go and say you’re sorry.”

“Say I’m sorry? Me?”

Emma was flabbergasted and yet part of her was not at all surprised. Her boss was a dick, and he’d never tried to hide that. But something was different today, something had broken inside of her and she wasn’t willing to accept this anymore or write it off as another spot of bad luck in her pretty pathetic life. Instead she let go of the guy and took off her apron in quick, sure movements.

“Screw that. I quit!”

“You can’t quit,” Gold said, seeming for the first time a little worried that she meant it.

“Ha! Watch me.”

Emma slammed down the apron and headed out the door with just a small salute to Ruby that silently wished her good luck and then a final glance at her stranger. He was still standing, watching her go and she didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or proud of herself so she just headed out into the warm night outside.

When the cool breeze hit her skin, Emma began to realize everything she’d just done and she moved into autopilot. She had to get out of here, she had to keep moving, but damn it her bug was long gone after that last thousand mile trek across the country to get the need to run out of her system. She was stuck here, and while she could ask Ruby to get her to the bus station a few counties over, she couldn’t ask her to leave in the middle of her shift. There weren’t many places around here offering employment after all.

Just like there weren’t many places offering a room to rent. The sad fact of the matter was that Emma was actually a tenant of Mr. Gold’s and she doubted he’d be letting her stay now that she was leaving him high and dry. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, desperate to leave, but without a way to do so.

“Are you alright, love?”

Emma turned to the now familiar voice and found her stranger looking truly concerned for her. The sight of someone actually caring caused a lump to form in her throat. Emma was an exceptionally good judge of character with a sixth sense for whether or not someone was full of it, but this guy was genuine. He wanted to know if she was okay, and she weirdly wanted to tell him.

“I’ve been better, but I’ve also been worse,” she admitted and he offered a ghost of a smile as he stepped closer. Emma didn’t retreat from him as she might of with other people, and honestly she wished he’d close the gap more.

“How can I help?” he asked candidly.

“Do you have some magical lead on a cheap car so I can get the hell out of here?” Emma joked.

“No, but I have my bike and a want to see you safe. I’m at your service should you need me.” Emma laughed, not because she found him funny, but because he was just so out of place. What was a biker doing with words like that and a face filled with sweet sincerity?

“Just like that?” she asked.

“Just like that,” he promised.

Emma could feel the truth radiating off of him and it paralyzed her. She was so overwhelmed by his willingness to be of help, but all her old alarms were blaring in her mind saying that there were always strings. Nothing was every free – there was always a price when it came to kindness.

“Why?”

“Because you deserve the help, love, and because you’re too damn good for a place like this. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you that since I first saw you, but no words I had seemed to do you justice. You’re impossible to describe.”

Emma let that sink in and felt the waves of pleasure and uncertainty that came in the face of such a confession. That he thought so highly of her was a real compliment, but she honestly didn’t know how to handle a guy who said things like that without some kind of angle. He wasn’t standing here saying she was gorgeous and thinking she might be an easy, vulnerable lay. He looked at her like she was worth something and then offered his hand to her gently like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Come with me. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. All you have to do is say the word.” Emma closed her eyes briefly loving the sound of that, of going away with him of all people, but she had to be smarter than this.

“I don’t even know your name,” she said frankly.

“Killian Jones, and before you ask, I’m a bad bet, love, and I know that. By all accounts I’m someone you want to avoid not run with, but bloody hell I’m hoping you’ll look past that. Let me be of use to you. Let me get you out of here. I want to help. I need to help.”

“I’m Emma.” She offered her name as she tried to wrap her mind around all of his words and his intensity and he smiled, his hand coming to brush away a strand of her of her hair behind her ear. It felt like she was surrounded by sunlight when he did, even though it was late, and the sun was long gone.

“I know. I’ve been paying attention, but you already know that.” She did know that, but it was still nice to hear.

“Why?” Emma asked the same question again, unable to let go of how surreal it felt. She needed answers. They were the only thing that would assure her in a situation when so up in the air.

“Because I couldn’t walk away. Because you’re different, and for the first time in a long time something in my life feels right again.”

What could she say to a confession like that? Emma still knew practically nothing about him, but she knew deep in her gut that she could trust Killian. It might be crazy, but for once she was willing to take the risk. With Killian she’d jump, and she started by pulling him down to her by the collar of his jacket for a kiss that started simple and sparked into something deeper, lustier, and more magical than anything she’d ever known. It was an incredible kiss, and it felt like finding home when Emma had never actually had one before. She hated to pull back, especially when his hands were on her body like this, pulling her closer and playing every ounce of desire she had to a beautiful tune, but she did eventually to tell him her decision.

“Okay.”

Things from there moved quickly, and Emma was glad that she’d never been terribly sentimental, because her one box of belongings was really all that there was room to bring. When she’d retrieved them and left what could be replaced in her room, she wrote a final note to slip into Ruby’s mailbox on their way out of town thanking her for everything and telling her she’d be in touch when she could be. Then when that was done Killian sought Emma’s command for their next steps.

“Where to, love?” Emma smiled and realized the answer didn’t matter.

“Anywhere. Wherever feels right.”

Killian grinned and offered her a helmet before getting them out of town and off on a new adventure. And luckily for both of them, that one leap of faith managed to turn into so much more. For they did find a place that felt right, and they both managed to put down roots and find a home in each other that they’d both so truly wanted.

…………… Doesn't take much to feel the rush With nothing but your eyes on me How 'bout we do just like we do Two crazy fools just breaking free

No, it don't matter what we've been told I can see the skies are gold Yeah, it's just you and me and open road, let's go

I don't see no red lights, just a wild ride You're my getaway, you're my getaway Tonight, I'm gonna be alright You're my getaway, you're my getaway tonight You're my getaway, you're my getaway tonight You're my getaway tonight

You're my getaway I don't see no red lights, just a wild ride You're my getaway, you're my getaway Tonight, I'm gonna be alright You're my getaway tonight

It's getting dark, let's light a spark Ignite our hearts and burn away This is our time, it's do or die Come on, let's rise for heaven's sake

Oh, it don't matter what we've been told I can see the skies are gold Yeah, it's just you and me and open road, let's go

I don't see no red lights, just a wild ride You're my getaway, you're my getaway Tonight, I'm gonna be alright You're my getaway, you're my getaway tonight You're my getaway, you're my getaway tonight You're my getaway tonight

You're my getaway I don't see no red lights, just a wild ride You're my getaway, you're my getaway Tonight, I'm gonna be alright You're my getaway, you're my getaway tonight You're my getaway tonight

Post-Note: Thank you to my lovely reader who asked for this. It took a while to figure out how to write this prompt because I hadn’t ever considered a story like this, but I finally stumbled on an idea today after your (very) long wait. I hope it did your vision justice. Anyway thank you all so much for reading, and as always, feel free to send prompts or ideas my way. I’d love the mixtape to have a nice long life and the more song suggestions I get, the easier that will be! And to everyone still waiting, don’t worry. I am making my way through the queue slowly but surely.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38, Part 39, Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45, Part 46, Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53, Part 54, Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60, Part 61, Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68, Part 69, Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75, Part 76, Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83, Part 84, Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90, Part 91, Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98, Part 99, Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103, Part 104, Part 105, Part 106, Part 107, Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112, Part 113, Part 114, Part 115, Part 116, Part 117, Part 118, Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123, Part 124, Part 125, Part 126, Part 127, Part 128

[nerddface-has-moved]

Team (Building?)

Characters: Loki Laufeyson, female!Avenger!reader, Phil & Co. are present

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1621

Notes: ????Two posts in one day???? What is this???? #woah

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“Glad to see we could all make it.”

Y/N settled into an office chair, tapping her fingers on the wood of the conference table before her, stifling a yawn.

“I’m missing an amazing yacht trip for this.” Tony lamented, drumming his fingers on his cheek, chin resting in his palm, propped by the elbow on the table.

Natasha propped her feet up on the edge of Clint’s seat. “I thought you loved us.”

“Where did you get that preposterous idea?”

Steve butted in. “Enough. We didn’t come here to argue.”

“What did we come here to do?” Clint asked, looking up from the arrow he had been examining.

“It’s a team-building thing, featherbrain,” Y/N spoke. “We are, in fact– brace yourself, this may be a shocker–  a team.”

“I have heard of these team-building exercises!” Thor exclaimed, tapping (slamming) the table with his palm. “I have a particular interest in the two-lies-and-a-truth game.”

Clint slid the arrow back into the quiver hanging off the back of his chair. “It’s two truths and a lie, big guy. And that’s for middle schoolers. Besides, what about reigning-champ over here?” He gestured sweepingly to Loki, who raised an eyebrow innocently. “He’s got an eight-legged horse for a kid. Who knows what he’s actually lying about?”

“I strive to live a full life,” Loki explained nonchalantly, and Y/N kicked her chair in a circle absentmindedly.

“I vote no in advance for trust-fall,” Tony called. “I trust none of you.”

“Excuse me,” Y/N returned with a lilt in her voice, placing a hand over her chest and furrowing her brow.

“Except you, doll. But not that much.”

Y/N scoffed and spun the chair again.

“We’re here to have a talk,” Phil announced. “About anything. You need to communicate in order to function properly as a unit. This is a good way to really break the ice and develop some friendship between the lot of you.”

“Oh, the old family dinner dynamic.”

“My team does it just fine.”

“We’re not your team,” Tony pointed out.

“No, they’re normal.” Y/N pointed loosely at the billionaire. “We’re nowhere close to that. Half of us are aliens, or otherwise somehow enhanced or manipulated. Plus I’m pretty sure Clint is actually part bird.”

“Moving on!” Phil barked, not letting the conversation sidetrack before they even started. “I’ve compiled a list of tactical advantages of…”

Y/N tuned him out, propping her chin up on her palm. She got up way too damn early for this.

After a moment of Phil’s voice droning in the background, her chair was tugged gently. She paid no attention to it, and a moment after that, familiar fingers traced up her thigh. It wasn’t until her lover’s hands grasped her knees and pulled her closer, jerking her out of the beginnings of her daydreams, that she focused on him.

Come here, he beckoned silently with one hand. She moved her hand to her jaw, rested her elbow on the table again, and shot him a sideways look, but otherwise didn’t move.

Footage of one of Steve’s latest assignments was playing on the screen at the end of the wall, and a couple members of the team were putting in some comments about it. Loki, despite being with her for a good year, now, still enjoyed toying with her, especially when it irritated the rest of the Avengers, and his hands were moving to her knees and her hips, making a move to pick her up.

She almost protested as he lifted her easily, sliding her into his lap, but since they were towards the back of the table, with only Natasha behind them, at the head, she allowed it. It wasn’t doing any harm, anyways.

Y/N sighed and crossed her legs, using her now unoccupied chair as a footrest. The subject had changed, on to a new assignment that piggybacked the one they’d apparently just been talking about.

“Agent L/N, we may put you on that assignment,” Phil turned his head to her, and she lolled her head to the side.

“‘Agent L/N’? This is an informal meeting. We’re friends, right?”

The older agent pursed his lips. “Yes, but we are still on the premises, and protocol–”

“Oh, come on, mom, loosen up.”

This earned her a warning look, and she laughed.

“See?” Tony challenged from across the table. “I am not the only one who calls you that!” he shoved Bruce, who sat beside him, with his elbow. “Bro, back me up here.”

Bruce, who had up until that moment been enveloped in his own world and not paying attention in the slightest, stuttered, looking as though he’d like it very much if he should simply vanish. “Oh, n– I don’t– um–”

“Lay off, Tony. My poor cinnamon roll is shy, you know that.”

Tony huffed indignantly and leaned back in his chair, glaring at her, though it meant little. “Cinnamon roll?”

“Yeah. Steve’s a Dorito.” She made a triangle with her thumbs and forefingers, and held it up in the direction of the blond, squinting one eye closed. He made a face, and Tony snorted.

“What does that make me?” Clint asked. Y/N turned her gaze to him with a smile.

“You, my bird-brained companion, are a burrito.”

Natasha broke into laughter, and Clint frowned. “What the hell is that even supposed to mean?”

Y/N felt Loki’s lips brush her neck. “You’re a big mess of things and stupid ideas all wrapped up in a soft shell.”

“When have I ever come up with a stupid idea?”

“There was that time when you turned everything green for St. Patrick’s day,” Tony offered. “Including my poor science brother here.” He slung an arm around Bruce, who retreated deeper into himself.

“Or the time you replaced all my guns with nerf weapons,” Y/N added.

“You sicced fangirls on Steve because you wanted to ‘find him a date’,” Natasha put in, using air quotes to emphasize her point. The supersoldier nodded in remembrance, looking vaguely terrified at the memory.

“You also put giant Santa hats on the helicarrier,” Phil joined.

“Actually, that was my idea,” Y/N admitted. “But I think you get the point, Clint.”

By this point, Clint had sunk deep in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest and his shoulders drawn in, an indignant frown on his face. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I get that I have no friends.”

By now, her seat’s mouth had placed a series of lingering kisses up the column of her neck. The hand that wasn’t around her waist and linked with her hand tapped her knee and pinched the sensitive tendons at the top of it. She yelped, kicking her leg up in reflex.

His chuckle sounded through her body as he placed an open-mouthed kiss above her collar, in the curve of her shoulder.

Tony spoke up from down the table. “Come on, reindeer games, can’t you satisfy your guilty pleasures somewhere else?”

Loki gazed coolly at the billionaire from over the curve of his lover’s spine. “You see, Stark, I do not feel guilty about my pleasures.”

Tony deadpanned. He looked up at Y/N after staring at her seat for a couple more seconds, and she shrugged and shook her head lightly with a hopeless look. She felt Loki’s lips curl into a grin as he returned to his ministrations. Phil across from them cleared his throat.

“Anyway, does anyone have any questions or concerns before we move on?”

“I would like to inquire as to whether we will be provided with the excellent catering of Sir Chang,” Thor asked.

“Who?”

“I think he means P.F. Chang’s, mom,” Tony called. This prompted Phil to remind him that he was not mom, and Thor clarified he would still like an answer. Steve butted in to try to shut everyone up, but ended up only exacerbating the problem.

Sometimes I find it difficult to comprehend how they accomplish anything, Loki’s voice sounded in her mind as the men before them conversed. She smiled, huffed laughter.

Same. His mouth traveled a little higher, gravitating to where he knew she was weak, as one of his hands gently caressed her thigh.

Careful, she warned.

What ever do you mean, love?

She wiggled a little. I mean, we’re in a meeting, and oh wow God okay. His teeth had grazed her earlobe, and she shifted in his lap, glaring. What did I tell you?

Did you not hear me when I informed the Iron Idiot that I do not feel guilt in things I find pleasurable?

And putting me at the gun is fun for you?

Loki chuckled softly. Have you met me, darling?

“What are you two up to?” Natasha’s voice sounded in Y/N’s ears. Tony, Thor, Clint, Steve, and Phil paid no attention; now they were arguing over which fast food was better. Bruce had very nearly vanished into his sweater.

“I’m trying to tell him something and as usual he isn’t listening to a damn thing I say,” she responded flatly.

“On the contrary, it is you who clearly does not listen.”

Y/N closed her eyes and let her head fall back with a short groan. “And now I’m wondering why I’m dating him.”

Loki tried to take advantage of the situation, sliding his hand higher and craning his neck to reach her exposed throat. She shoved his face away with her hand and stood, looking at the thin watch on her wrist. “Oh, gee, look at the time! I ought to get up to the gym before dark. Thor, we can get whatever food you want. This has been fun, we should do it again sometime. Goodbye, various food items, bye mom.”

She skipped out, pointedly ignoring the shouting that her team dissolved into. They’d never be like Phil’s team, but families rarely work together so well.