ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤBITTER REUNIONS.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤshield ! reader ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤpart one !!
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤBITTER REUNIONS.
summary soldier boy's first stop in his grand return is to collect his suit and his shield, only to find out just how different & bittersweet things have become in his absenceㅤㅤㅤwarnings feminine rage, discussions of trauma, hurt/hurt because there's no comfortㅤㅤㅤword count 2.5k
ㅤㅤㅤTHE FLATSCREEN TELEVISION SCREEN CRACKLES IN THE LEGEND'S LIVING ROOM SPACE. on it, a basketball game, two teams that you've never given a shit about, but it's what the legend likes to watch, and so you sit on the worn-out couch and do what you've always done: endure other people's shit, and bite the hand that feeds you.
you would think by now that he knows you better than this. that you pick a fight every single time he flips through the channels with the device he won't tell you the name of, lest you figure out how to access the internet and learn how to use it. that you have smashed three of his televisions in your time with him.
frederick vought warned the legend before he'd handed you over. his words were slurred, tired, defeated — but they were clear enough to still be used against you, repeated by many who encountered you.
she is a cruel one, that shield i've reconstructed.
cruel, indeed.
"i do not want to watch," you shout across the empty space, making a furious reach across the sofa to snatch the television stick off of the other side's abandoned cushion. the bell to the door rang ten minutes earlier, and the old man had yet to return.
you glare at the screen, as if you could will it to silence with nothing but your mind. impossible, of course; at least, you hadn't been successful yet. you hated the buzz of high pitched chatter in the televised crowd, the way it crawled into the crevices of your mind through the passages of your ears and nested.
a furious growl leaves your lips, and you rise to your feet, steps away from the bright screen. you are cruel, and everyone thinks so, but you have kindness tucked away in your rage, sometimes. the score is 120-88. you take note of it, shoving the numbers into your pocket, before you slam the remote into the screen.
the shards of glass that embed into your hand don't hurt. your lips twist into an irritated scowl at the sight of them, plucking out each piece and littering it on the hardwood floor. the remote is in pieces, too, crushed in the tight squeeze of your hand.
you release your grip, letting each piece crumble to the ground with loud thumps. fury crackles through you, acid burning in your bloodstream. it is unlike the man you've been stuck with to abandon you to your own devices for so long. it is also unlike him to force you to watch something you do not like in his absences.
you liked jersey shore, and the real housewives. you liked seeing girls like you get to live lives you'd never get to. it was therapeutic and gutwrenching all at once, and that only added to the fuel of your anger, crackling inside of you.
the walk you take down the lengthy hallway into the part of his home that you were strictly forbidden from was punctuated by the echo of your stomping feet. these were the parts of the house that the legend kept locked. the front entrance, the actual living room, and the man's own bedroom. all places that he deemed his, and all places with quick access to the public, meaning exits.
it was not a laboratory. but it was not a home, either.
your fist slams on the wood of the door, right into the indent of it that you'd already created. this was not the first time that you'd broken down this door. it wouldn't be the last, with how many secrets he kept locked away from you, and how much of the world you were forbidden to see.
"open the door, legend, or i'm going to pummel your fucking skull—"
"enough of that." his voice is muffled when it cuts through your threats, close enough that he sounds like he is right on the other side of the wood. you slam your fist into it again, hard enough for the wood to splinter in the center of your indentation. "enough, indy. i'm comin' back."
"you left the fucking game on." you throw your hand backwards in gesture, even though he can't see it. that was easy enough to fix. you punch through the splintered wood, creating a fist shaped hole to the other side. "you know i hate watching men play games."
the legend is used to your antics by now, and so he doesn't flinch at the break. you see enough of his face to note the downward scowl, and the disappointment behind his dark glasses. "you don't much like the women playing them, either."
"because it is not fun." didn't he understand by now? you were a girl locked away, punished for being created and what you were shaped into. you did not get fun of your own, so you needed some kind of outlet to drown yourself into. it was no wonder that you were thought of as a monster. your only glimpses of the sunny skies were in the gaps of the legend's barred off windows. titanium, so it was not impossible for you to bend them, but it was not an easy feat.
he sighs through his nose, smoke curling around his face from the cigar in his fingers. "two minutes, indy." he holds up two fingers, as if he thought you could not fucking count or comprehend how long two minutes was. "that's all i need."
"who the fuck is in there?" another voice asks, deep and rough and familiar. so familiar. forty years was enough time to age someone — you knew this from how the legend looks now, compared to when he'd first had to take you in — and yet...
the legend's eyes dart over to the source of the voice at the same time as yours do. recognition comes in the form of a racing heartbeat. it builds, and crescendos, and suddenly you are shaking as you beat on the door again. "whoa, whoa, whoa—"
each time he got the door redone stronger. soon enough, he'd have a door made of titanium guarding his proper guests from the rest of his house, and from you.
no one could know about you, not when you were the makings of a sick imagination burrowed in an intelligent man's head.
that did not mean you didn't try. it was such a lonely life, locked away in a penthouse with a man that grew closer and closer to dying with each passing year, and no one knowing anything of what you'd become.
the anger flares, flames licking at the electric sparks in your veins. the door crumbles with one harsher hit, and you're standing in the space you're kept from. you've been here before, never permitted past this doorway, always whisked away before you can get a breath of fresh air.
"hi, sweetheart," soldier boy says, one corner of his mouth curled high in an arrogant smile. bold of him to still carry the same confidence he did back when you knew him, when now, he was in nothing but sweatpants and a zip-up jacket almost too small for his frame. his green eyes stay on you as he says over your shoulder, "she's young. can you even fuckin' keep up with her?"
your eyes flare. it's two steps to be in front of him, and the third is just for good measure, when you clock him in the chin. his head snaps backwards, surprise making him stumble backwards a step.
soldier boy rubs at the skin of his jaw, irritation as bright as your anger staring back at you. you know the calm he wears in his expression. it barely conceals a storm, brewing beneath the surface. you know it because you'd often been the weapon he chose in these moods of his. you know it because you adopted that ire yourself.
"that's enough." the legend steps over the broken pieces of his door, grimacing at the splinters littering the ground. "indy, enough."
you glance over your shoulder to eye the man's expression, trying to determine what he was feeling by look alone. he was not capable of hurting you, nothing was, but he knew how to weaponize words when you upset him, all of which only steeled your skin further.
there is not enough damage in the world you can inflict onto soldier boy to make up for the things he did with you. bashed skulls, took bullets, burnt her steel until she glowed vibrant orange. you expected him to be dead. you wanted him to have been dead, if only so you'd be spared from this moment. but you never got what you wanted. no jersey shore, no fresh air, and no freedom from soldier boy.
you raise your arm to deck him again, but his fingers close around your wrist tightly, tugging it harshly back down. his smirk says everything you need to know about how much he knows. he does not know that you've learned all of his weaknesses, and that he often left himself vulnerable in times when he thought he had the upperhand.
you yank him toward you in the same moment as you ream your knee straight into his cock.
soldier boy stutters on a groan, releasing his grip on you like you’d burnt him. you don’t relish in his pain, or the surprise that you could hurt him. it’s not enough.
the legend gives you the same disappointed look you’re used to getting from him, his head shaking in disapproval. “i locked the door for a reason.”
“you always say this.” you turn on your heel, jamming your finger into the center of his chest. you missed the days when he cowered under your anger and attitude, now it only seemed to exhaust him. “you always lock the door for a reason, and then it is just grace. you do not even let me see grace.”
“and look what happened the time you decided to break the rules.” the legend nods behind you, toward the man you do not turn to look at again. his footsteps are heavy as they approach. “this is what i keep you away from. the possibility of this.”
the urge to break every bone on the older man’s face is almost enough to overtake any rational thinking inside of you. he must see it, because he shakes his head again. “stand down.”
“where’s my suit?” soldier boy asks from behind you, and you still in place. he’s too close. every instinct of fight clicks into gear, the safety off as the bullets load up.
the legend nods down the hallway, in the direction of your space. you had so little that you could call your own. the bigger of the guest bedrooms was yours, shared only in the terms of the collectibles he kept in the expansive closet.
you knew soldier boy’s suit was in there. you could smell the tobacco and the whiskey from it, sometimes, from the safety of your bed. you sometimes could catch a whiff of cologne, on days where you let go of the mask that you were okay with being alone for the rest of your life. when you wished upon a star outside of your barred windows that just one person would find you again.
“you cannot go in there.” you are already starting down the hallway, eager to reach your room before any of them could.
all of your fury was gone. stand down was an order. a kill switch programmed into you to bury all of the tension that often broke free of your restraints. it was not safe, vought once said to you when you were a child, to have a girl who can’t break without a few weaknesses. a few. some of which you didn’t even know, but your mind did.
there wasn’t any electricity in your veins anymore, but there was bleeding desperation. no, they could not invade your space. it defeated the purpose of having it. it would force the legend to open the rooms he locked away from you, too, and you knew he wouldn’t ever. if you granted either of these men an inch, they’d take a mile, and crush you in the process.
“he needs his suit, indy.”
your nose twitches, fighting against the command still ringing in your head. you grit your teeth, jaw clenched tightly. “he needs nothing.”
“who the fuck is this?” soldier boy asks again, and he’s relentless in his pursuit now, coming for your space with the authority of a man who has never been told no in his life. “get out of the way, sweetheart, or you won’t like how this blows up in your face.”
he had hurt you before. you were not human then, but you remembered all of the aches of it. you knew that soldier boy did not goad before he hurt you, or make bold-faced threats. he was lying.
you tilt your chin up, holding the eye contact. he was an unkind man, cruel in every crevice — but so were you, weren’t you? how evil it was to see yourself reflected in a man you hated, who you wanted to break into pieces and burn so all of the tears you shed fizzled away with him. “you will not like what you see.”
soldier boy cocks an eyebrow. “y’think i’m gonna hold it over your head if you’ve got a pair of panties left out?”
you step back into your room, all clean and panty free, and wait for him to take the step to follow you before you slam the door against his nose. the door rattles in the frame. soldier boy, on the other side, grunts in surprise, before he kicks at the hinges.
“that is enough!” the legend’s voice rips through the expansive space of his penthouse, his cane clicking across the floor. “i am not losing two fucking doors to this childish shit.”
you’ve moved, now. you can’t prevent soldier boy from busting down your door, but you can prevent them from fully infiltrating your bedroom. you go into the closet, to the deeper parts lined with memorabilia that you tried to ignore every time you were in here, and snatch the army green suit off of the hanger.
your eyes catch on the shield, hung up on the back wall. useless now. all of its indestructibility existed within you now, making it nothing but a heavy disc of metal.
tucking it under one arm, you hurry back to your bedroom, the arguing male voices outside getting aggravated enough that you know the door is about to crumble.
you knew soldier boy. you knew he could not help but exert some sort of dominance, if he could, to feel more in control. but you would not be in there when he came in and saw the display left on your bed.
instead, you tucked away in your closet, closing your eyes to try and find any sort of solace in the solitude. as always, it did nothing but squeeze tight around you, trapping you in a cage of your own making.
you can hear the exact moment your door is kicked down, along with the moment that soldier boy sees his things laid out for him. his suit, unwrinkled and unmarred. his physical shield, dented and decimated and as light as a kitchen plate.
and his real shield, hiding away from the reality that your nightmares always seemed to catch up to you.
notes. believe it or not i did not start this with the idea that indy was going to be so rapunzel. but it makes sense </3 there's a lot of lore i'm going to slowly incorporate that is hinted at in here / spawned from this so <3 perfect starting point! cannot WAIT for the boys^tm to meet this lil thing. hope u guys love her like i do my lil evil princess !!!
tags. @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @jensenacklesballsack @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra @h8aaz
More Posts from Writtenbyhollywood and Others
bookworm
-> rafe x bookworm!reader
The bell above the bookstore door jingled sharply, and you looked up just in time to see a tall, very damp stranger step inside, shaking the rain from his jacket.
He looked out of place: broad-shouldered and golden-haired, like he belonged on a yacht instead of standing in the doorway of your tiny shop, dripping onto the hardwood floor.
You arched a brow. “You’re getting water on my first editions.”
The guy, Rafe Cameron, you recognized now, glanced down at the puddle forming around his expensive-looking sneakers. “Shit—uh, my bad.” He took a dramatic step to the side, as if that somehow fixed it, then ran a hand through his rain-soaked hair. “I, uh, wasn’t planning on coming in. Just—y’know. Rain.”
You resisted the urge to smile. “Yes, I do know rain.”
Rafe exhaled, half-laughing, like he wasn’t used to people talking to him like this. He glanced around, taking in the towering bookshelves, the warm glow of the reading lamps. “So… what kinda place is this? Coffee shop? Library?”
“Bookstore.”
“Right. That’s what I meant.”
You leaned your elbows on the counter, tilting your head. “Not much of a reader, are you?”
“Uh—” He looked vaguely offended. “I mean, I’ve read, like… some books.”
“Name one.”
His jaw tightened. “Do magazines count?”
You laughed and Rafe looked half annoyed, half intrigued. “Not unless they have plotlines and character development.”
He hesitated, shifting his weight like he was debating whether to leave or stay. Then, as if making a split-second decision, he cleared his throat. “Alright. Sell me a book, then.”
Your eyes widened slightly. “What, right now?”
“Yeah.” He crossed his arms. “Something I’d like.”
You eyed him, taking in the expensive watch, the cocky smirk he was trying to suppress, the slight impatience in the way he tapped his fingers against his bicep. Then, without a word, you turned, plucked a book from the shelf, and set it down in front of him.
Rafe squinted at the cover. The Great Gatsby.
He snorted. “You picked this ‘cause I’m rich, didn’t you?”
You just smiled, chin propped in your palm. “I picked it because it’s about a man who has everything… except the one thing he really wants.”
That shut him up.
For the first time since he walked in, Rafe didn’t have a witty retort. Instead, he just looked at you like he wasn’t sure what to make of you. Then, after a moment, he picked up the book, flipping it over in his hands.
“Alright,” he said, voice softer than before. “Guess I’ll give it a shot.”
And just like that, a golden-haired, rain-drenched Kook walked into your quiet little world, and, much to your surprise, didn’t seem in any hurry to leave.
...
The next time Rafe Cameron strolled into your bookstore, the weather was perfectly dry. No convenient rainstorm forcing him inside. Which meant he was here on purpose.
You glanced up from your desk, hiding a smile as he beelined straight for the shelves, hands in his pockets, exuding casual confidence... except for the way his eyes flicked toward you every few seconds, like he was making sure you noticed him.
He stopped in front of the classics section, squinting at the titles, then, rather dramatically, pulled out the thickest book he could find.
“War and Peace,” you read off the spine, eyebrows raising.
Rafe nodded, flipping it open like he knew exactly what he was doing. “Yep. I’m thinking… light weekend read.”
You leaned on the counter, amusement bubbling in your chest. “You do know that book is, like, twelve hundred pages, right?”
Rafe smirked. “Yeah. I like a challenge.”
You folded your arms. “Do you even know what it’s about?”
He hesitated for just a second, just long enough for you to tell he absolutely did not, before shrugging. “War. And… peace.”
You bit back a laugh. “Brilliant deduction, Tolstoy.”
He made a face. “Okay, whatever, maybe I just like big books. What, I’m supposed to pick some tiny little paperback?”
“Size isn’t everything, Rafe.”
His bit back a grin like he was fighting off some very Rafe-like response to that statement. Instead, he cleared his throat and flipped to a random page. “I’ll prove it,” he declared. “I’ll read the whole thing.”
You tilted your head, amused. “All of War and Peace?”
“All of War and Peace.” He looked very proud of himself, like he’d just announced he was climbing Mount Everest. “And then I’ll come back and tell you all about it.”
You rested your chin in your palm, eyes twinkling. “I’m holding you to that.”
“Good.” Rafe closed the book with a satisfying thud and tucked it under his arm like a trophy. He turned to leave but then, almost as an afterthought, glanced back at you, smirking.
“Bet you’ll be impressed when I finish.”
You grinned, shaking your head. “I’ll be shocked if you finish.”
Rafe just gave you a wink, pushing out the door, head held high like he’d just won something.
You bit your lip, watching him go.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
...
“You have a predilection for making a mess,” you mused, watching as Rafe leaned back in his chair at the counter, arms crossed, an empty coffee cup in front of him: his third of the morning.
Rafe blinked. “A what?”
“A predilection.”
He squinted at you. “Is that, like… a disease?”
You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “No, it means you have a habit of doing something. A preference.”
“Oh.” Rafe nodded, like he totally got it. He absolutely did not get it.
Moments like these happened all the time. You’d say something, something perfectly normal, in your opinion, and he’d look at you like you were speaking ancient Latin.
Last week, you told him his posture was lackadaisical, and he spent the next three hours trying to pronounce it. Yesterday, you mentioned that his tendency to linger in your store was beguiling, and he just stared at you for a solid five seconds before muttering, “Yeah, well, you’re beguiling too.”
But today? Today was different. Today, Rafe had come prepared.
“I actually knew that,” he lied, shifting in his seat. “I, uh… I absconded that word earlier.”
You blinked. “You what?”
“Absconded,” he repeated, looking oddly proud of himself.
You bit your lip, trying so, so hard not to laugh. “Do you mean absorbed?”
Rafe’s smirk faltered. “…Yeah, that one.”
You let out a giggle, and Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “I knew I was gonna mess that up.”
“No, no,” you teased, leaning forward on your elbows. “Please, continue. What else have you absconded (definition: leave hurriedly and secretly, typically to avoid detection of or arrest for an unlawful action such as theft) lately?”
He shot you a look, then, without missing a beat, grabbed his empty coffee cup and stood. “I’m absconding out of here.”
You let out a full laugh, and he grinned as he turned toward the door.
Before he left, though, he paused, glancing back at you with that cocky, boyish smirk.
“By the way, I predilect you.”
You shook your head, utterly endeared. “That’s not... never mind.”
Rafe just winked. “Knew it.”
A/N: mindless self indulgence
𝔖𝔠𝔬𝔱𝔱 𝔅𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰
- how you meet, dating, your story together, how he is, etc.. | Fluff . TW: minor mentions of trauma. Some swearing, he called user a bitch. A bit of pervy humor.
🩹 Scott Barringer and you met at Mount Horizon. You were pretty much settled and well liked in the Cliffhangers group when he joined. Like the girls of said group, you were curious about the blonde with the bad attitude. It didn't take long to learn how hostile and nearly unapproachable he was, like most troubled teens when they first arrived. Since Juliet and Shelby seemed to have this little competition for his attention going on, you decided to not get involved, keeping your interactions to a minimum. It wasn't difficult, considering how douchy he was at the beginning of his stay.
🩹 You share a rather similar trauma to Katherine and large bodies of water make you terribly anxious after an accident, not that you speak about it. Scott is quite the trickster and is known to hold grudges, both of you argued over something the other day, which is why he had the moronic idea to push you into the lake. If the Cliffhangers disliked Scott before, they absolutely hated his guts after this, especially since he froze and Peter was the one who jumped after you. “W-what? It's not my fault the bitch can't swim or whatever...” He muttered, but the reality was that Scott had been absolutely terrified. Getting along with him after this was certainly a challenge, Scott didn't make it easy, his own trauma and shame prevented him from doing the right thing, but he eventually had the guts to tell you he was sorry. You almost ignored him, but then you noticed how close to tears he was. Alas, a small flicker of vulnerability that proved Scott was human after all.
He walked into the empty library, it was after curfew, but you were reading quietly on a sofa. Scott hesitated for a couple of seconds, the only reason he was there was because he knew he'd find you, but now that he can see you, he can't seem to talk. What could he say, anyways? It's not a secret that you want to be as far as possible from him, ever since the incident.
“... What do you want?” Your tone isn't exactly friendly, something he knew he deserved, it doesn't stop Scott from flinching though. “Seriously Scott, you don't even read, so why are you here?”
“To talk to you,” he says, trying to not sound too defensive. He sighs. “Can I do that, please? You don't have to say anything... You don't even have to talk to me, just... Hear me out?” Scott stared, pleading quietly, hoping you'll grant him that.
Crossing your arms you decide to humor him, just to hear what he has to say. “Make it fast.”
He gives you a bit of a nod, grateful, even if his heart was hammering against his chest hard enough to break it.
“Listen I...” Scott swallowed, hard, feeling a bump in his throat that prevents him from speaking properly. He takes a sharp breath, hands running through his tousled hair. “I didn't want to hurt you, okay? You need to know that. If I had been aware of your... I never would have- I mean, G-God, I could've... It was never m-my intention, you get that, right? I-I know I'm a dick but I really didn't think... And uhm... I- I'm s-so... I'm so sorry... I'm sorry.” He sniffles, scratching the back of his head in desperation, he hates how pathetic he feels when he cries, but this is something that has been tormenting him. The idea of you possibly having trouble sleeping after he pushed you made him want to crawl in a hole and never come back. “I s-swear I didn't want to h-hurt you. And if I set back your recovery... F-fuck, I'm so sorry, please...” He sobbed, thick tears sliding over his reddened cheeks. “You have to believe me.”
It was in this moment that you hated how compassionate and soft you are, a couple of tears and your heart was practically breaking. Unbelievable.
“I know you are...” you sighed. “But what you did was so fucking dumb, Scott.”
“I know! I know! And I hate myself for doing this to you, I had no idea.” He looks away, breathing through his mouth. He looked absolutely pathetic, struggling with himself. “A-and you're not a bitch... I'm sorry for calling you that.”
“You called me a bitch? What, when?”
He continued to cry, trying to make his case before you decide you've had enough of him. “I thought you knew how to swim, I've heard about you being in a team and everything!! What I didn't know was the reason for you to be here. I swear for everything that I hold dear, that I wouldn't have pushed you if I knew...”
You rolled your eyes, muttering “I do know how, I just kinda can't anymore... I freeze, I don't like to talk about it.”
Scott nods, wiping his eyes.
“...I could have jumped after you, I stood there like a moron because I didn't know if you were being for real... and I—” He kept talking, to a point where you could no longer understand him. It was a little frustrating because you wanted to be mad at him, to be petty, to hold a grudge. But you can't, not anymore.
“Jesus Christ, breathe, Scott. I don't know what the hell you're saying anymore.” You groaned, getting up and gently pulling him into a warm hug, one that he probably doesn't deserve, but needs. This was the day that you understood there was something else going on, that there was more to Scott Barringer than what meets the eye. Your suspicions were confirmed when he began bawling again, clinging to your shirt while sobbing. “It's... It's alright, we're alright.”
🩹 After that awkward evening of apologies, there was a short period of time where Scott didn't know how to act around you, so much that he sorta avoided you for three days. After that, you became friends. He randomly sat down in front of you for lunch, quietly handing you over one of those muffins they made at the cafeteria, it didn't have that much sugar or flavor to it, but it was the closest thing to a decent snack around. People usually don't give those up willingly. A peace offering.
🩹 It became rather common to find the two of you together after this. It's not like you're attached at the hip, but 8 times out of 10, you were next to each other. Your friendship with him isn't automatically perfect, he's still petty and learning how to navigate his own emotions, he's prone to jealousy and has this infuriating mindset of 'I don't like this person so you can't be friends with them either', but those are things that with time he begins to fix. You also learn rather quickly what they meant, and the fact that the blonde was crushing on you. Take that, Shelby and Juliet!
🩹 Your relationship with him happened gradually, and then boom! You got a little closer, hugs lasted a little longer, words were a little flirtier, until one time you kissed goodnight. It was fast, it was cute, it was surprisingly innocent, and suddenly both of you were stumbling with your own words, blushing and waving goodbye like a pair of idiots.
🩹 Scott Barringer doesn't really know how to be romantic, he could try saying something really sweet or do something cute like giving you a flower, but there's a good chance he'll end the sentence with a dismissive "whatever", "some shit like that", or "who fucking cares..." Luckily, you understand him, as frustrating he may be. Patience is definitely a skill you were exercising constantly with him by your side.
🩹 Scott Barringer is an overprotective boyfriend. Even if he's good to you, he still has a long road to go, empathy and teamwork are things he greatly struggles with if they're not related to you. It's not uncommon for him to get in fights, usually with Auggie. If Scott feels like someone looked at you the wrong way he's already stomping his way towards them and making a fist. You joked with your friends about buying a leash to hold him back, but it's not something you're proud of. Pulling him back during a fight? Forget it. His behavior usually causes most of your arguments, and they look a bit like this: "So you're on his side then!" "What? No Scott, but you can't behave like this and expect me to side with you!" "Why the hell not? You're my girlfriend, not his!"
🩹 You guys went through a breakup at some point, it happened when you were certain Scott needed a friend more than a girlfriend and his behavior was the worst it would be. It wasn't easy and he definitely resented you for it, but you insisted in him needing space to grow and to battle those demons that found him when his father came back into his life. It didn't last for long, and best believe he tried to make you jealous during that time "apart", but ultimately you got back together when he promised to work on being better.
“Oh Scott, now what?” You groaned when he pulled you to the side. Funny how you didn't even have to look to know it was him, but when you did, he had this miserable look on his face, like a starved puppy. “Tch. You have two minutes.”
“I know you think it's for the best, and maybe you're right, maybe I'm too dependent on you, but I don't think you understand how truly good you are for me. I've changed, ever since... Ever since we first crossed paths, I have been changing for the better... I know I get in fights, I know I'm an asshole, I know I claim to not care about anything else and maybe I don't to a degree. But when it comes to you...?” Scott sighs, his pretty eyes sparkling with devotion. “You are everything that I care about, yeah? And you've made me want to be better, I don't wanna do this without you, it's not fair! Not when you want to be with me, and I want to be with you. I'm not trying to guilt you into compliance, but I need you, alright? I need you in my life, desperately. You made me believe I'm worth loving, you have any idea how hard that was? You made me believe I matter... And you made me feel like myself again. When I'm with you I am not afraid of anything, not... Not even the storms. So please, give me another chance, because I don't know if I can do this without you.”
🩹 You were the first one to leave Mount Horizon. As soon as you found out you were fit to go back to your home, you told Scott. Safe to say he was absolutely devastated, but at the same time, he forced himself to smile and hug you tightly. You promised that you would write every single week, and even though Scott had his doubts, you did. Scott's turn to leave took place six months after you, at 17 he still had to live with his father, but as soon as he turned 18, he moved out.
🩹 Scott's first apartment is close to a gym and the university he'll go to. He wasted no time in asking you to live with him, and even when your friends thought it wasn't a good idea, you agreed. It was genuinely one of the best decisions you ever made.
🩹 Scott Barringer has a dirty dirty mind, like any guy his age. His thoughts of you are downright obscene, and even if he doesn't say so, you can tell by that look in his eyes. He'll stare at you almost in a trance, pupils will dilate so much you'll wonder if he took something. His chin points downward and you can swear the guy isn't even blinking. Sometimes it creeps you out.
“Alright that's enough you perv, stop it!” Your dramatic squeal brought him back to the present, Scott blushes as he gets ready to protest.
“But I'm not doing anything!”
“Yes you are!”
“No I'm not! The fuck?! Can't I look at my girlfriend? Damn. So dramatic... I wasn't even thinking about it...” He grumbled, even though he's 100% lying. “I said I wasn't!”
🩹 Scott Barringer is the type of guy that during a sleepover he'll make it sound like he can make cool shadow puppets, starting with the basics: bunny, bird. At this point you're invested. Spider. Butterfly. Aaaand he just made a circle for his middle finger to move in and out repeatedly.
“This one's my favorite.” He grins. “Wanna emulate?”
“You are such a child, Scott! Gosh!”
🩹 Scott Barringer developed the habit of leaving you notes, just because. He thinks you get rid of them after reading, so the day he found your little shoe box filled with his notes he teared up. Scott still has days of struggle, but knowing that someone loves him enough to literally save a stupid bubblegum wrap with the words 'I love you', is enough to make him want to bawl. He can't even bring himself to tease you for it, he'd be a hypocrite if he called you sentimental or a crybaby.
🩹 Scott Barringer loves you more than he loves himself. But that's not something you approved of, so you made sure to remind him of how damn valuable he was.
absolutely beautiful
The Ring
tenth doctor x f!reader
Summary: In which the only way for you and the Doctor to get out of this one is a fake marriage. But how fake is it really?
You keeled over, your breath coming out in short pants. You weren't as good at this running thing as the Doctor was.
Sensing you weren’t behind him, the Doctor turned to check on you. You threw your thumb up, signaling that you were okay. You didn’t like the Doctor worrying about you.
“I’m sure we’ve lost them for now,” he assured, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. It was a nervous tick that he had.
“What are we going to do?” You asked once you had caught your breath. You allowed your legs to fold underneath you, sitting in the grass. The Doctor crouched down next to you.
It was supposed to be a nice vacation, a break from the hustle and bustle of time traveling. You had explicitly asked for a relaxing trip, one where you didn’t have to save the world or run for your life. You should have known that was never how it was with the Doctor.
Everything was fine at first. The alien town the Doctor had selected for your trip was throwing an elaborate festival. You were more than happy to partake in the dancing and sample the foreign foods. What you failed to notice was the ritual behind the festival. The village selected an unmarried woman each year to sacrifice to their gods. In retrospect, it wasn’t the weirdest ritual you had encountered over the years. What made it so uncomfortable was the fact they had selected you.
“I would rather not be a blood sacrifice,” you admitted, pushing your wayward hair out of your face.
“I won’t let that happen,” The Doctor said seriously, taking your hand gently. He had the duty of care, something that he didn’t take lightly.
“I’m not sure how much good we are against a whole village of bloodthirsty aliens,” you laughed, burying your head in your hands. You should have been scared, upset even. Instead, you found the whole thing funny. You supposed that was a side effect of traveling with the Doctor. Everything could always be worse, and everything in front of you could always be funny. You just had to frame it the right way.
“I have an idea,” the Doctor murmured. You looked up at him, confused. He only whispered things when he knew you wouldn’t like them.
“They only want to sacrifice you because you’re unmarried,” he stated. You stared at him, unsure of the point he was trying to make.
He groaned, running a hand down his face in frustration.
“I’m gonna need you to spell this one out for me,” you laughed lightly.
The Doctor swallowed anxiously, his Adam’s apple bobbing aggressively. “We could get married,” he said matter-of-factly, with the same tone he used to ask if you wanted tea or coffee in the morning.
“What?” you asked, wide-eyed. The Doctor swallowed again, his eyes diverting from yours.
You loved the Doctor, in every sense of the word. He was your home, your comfort. He was everything and more to you. But he only loved you as a friend, and you were more than willing to accept that love. It was better to love him like this than not at all.
“They can’t sacrifice you if we get married.”
“No, I got that part,” you rushed out, waving your hands about anxiously.
“You,” you sighed, pausing before continuing, “marry me?”
“To save your life, yes,” the Doctor said like it was the simplest thing in the world. He would walk to the ends of the universe for you. He had.
“Can we do that?” you laughed, squeezing your eyes shut. The whole thing felt too good to be true.
“I can’t think of anyone else I would rather fake-marry,” he smiled, taking your hands in his again.
You grinned, the smile taking over your whole face. The Doctor loved it when you smiled like that. He loved it even more when he made you smile like that.
“Let’s get fake married!” you laughed, jumping up from the grass. The Doctor nodded in agreement, standing up next to you.
“How exactly…” you trailed off. “Are we going to get fake married?” The Doctor had a habit of making plans without a way to execute them.
It wasn’t like you could just walk into the village church and get married. You certainly couldn’t go back to the TARDIS, or that would have been the plan before suggesting a falsified marriage.
“There was a little cottage on the outskirts of town, we can hope that there’s an inhabitant there who can serve as a witness?” He suggested.
You couldn’t come up with a better idea so you agreed, following the Doctor as he walked off into the distance.
You tried not to read too much into the whole marriage thing. The Doctor was doing it to save your life, nothing more. Still, the mere idea of it left your skin tingling and your heart racing.
You were so lost in thought you hardly noticed the cottage creeping up on you until you were standing on the front steps.
The Doctor rapped his knuckles against the wood softly before stepping back. You waited in silence for a few moments. You could hear the blood pumping in your ears. What if this didn’t work?
The door flung open, revealing an old woman.
“What do you want?” She barked, clearly disturbed by the visit.
The Doctor cleared his throat, searching for his words. You frowned, he usually didn’t have any trouble talking to strangers.
“This is a bit of a strange request,” he laughed lightly, his hand drifting towards the back of his neck subconsciously.
“Spit it out, young man.”
You bit back a giggle. The Doctor was far from young, even if this face was youthful.
“We need a witness for our wedding,” he rushed, his words coming out in hurried clusters.
The woman remained silent for a moment, her eyes darting between the two of you. You could see hundreds of questions forming in her mind before she shook them away.
“I don’t want to know,” she murmured as she opened the door.
You exchanged a look of relief with the Time Lord before following her inside.
She bustled about her cottage, sorting things out while the two of you fiddled anxiously in the corner.
“Well, let's get on with it,” she finally sighed.
The Doctor nodded timidly, holding out his hand for you to take. You slipped your hand into his, your fingers interlocking instantaneously. You had held hands hundreds of times, yet it felt different.
With his other hand, the Doctor rifled about in the pockets of his coat. You frowned, wondering what could possibly be in there. Did he really need a jammy dodger from the depths of his pocket right now? Finally, his hand slipped out of the pocket holding two silver rings.
“Why, on Earth, are you carrying around wedding bands?” you laughed. He only shrugged, handing the simple rings over to the old woman. She examined the objects in her hand wistfully, turning them over in her hand.
“I can’t say I’m a professional at this,” she warned. It didn’t really matter to either of you.
The Doctor took your other hand in his, standing face-to-face with you. You laughed at the domesticity of it.
“Do you,” the woman paused, looking at the Doctor.
“John Smith,” The Doctor smiled. You shook your head at his fake name. You had told him hundreds of times that he should change it. No one was really named John Smith, that's the kind of name you only ever found in books.
“Alright,” the woman said, not even blinking. “Do you, John Smith, take this woman to love and hold blah, blah, blah?” She finished, looking back to the Doctor. He wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were glued to you, studying every single aspect of your face. He never wanted to forget this moment. From your end of things, you were left with a sickly feeling that you had food on your face.
“I do,” He smiled brightly.
“And you?” she turned to you, repeating the process.
“Absolutely,” you grinned.
The woman handed you each a ring, which you placed on the other’s hand. You noted the slight shake in the Doctor’s hands as he slipped the silver band onto your finger.
You had always wanted to get married. Sure, you never imagined it like this. Standing in some random cottage in a pair of worn-out jeans exchanging wedding bands in order to save your life was never your plan. Even still, you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“You may kiss the bride,” The old woman chided, looking at you two disapprovingly. You were so busy looking into the Doctor’s eyes that you completely forgot about the whole kissing part of getting married.
A scarlet flush overtook your face, but the Doctor pretended not to notice. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands gently, angling it upwards towards his. Slowly, he dipped his way down until his lips were inches away from yours.
You could feel his breath on your mouth, you noted each and every twitch of his lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as he eliminated the gap, his mouth crashing into yours.
He very well could have given you a chaste kiss, the kind you give your gran on Christmas Eve. Instead, he kissed you like his life depended on it. Like he had been thinking about kissing you for eons.
His mouth fit against yours perfectly. There was no other way to describe it.
He pulled away slowly, leaving you stunned and breathless. Your eyes remained closed for a moment, taking it all in. When they finally opened, you saw him. Your Doctor. The impossible, magnificent, loving creature in front of you. It was foolish to claim that such a being was yours alone, but you couldn’t see it any other way.
“Congratulations,” the old woman smiled, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Thank you,” you smiled meekly, pushing your hair out of your face.
-
You didn’t keep the ring on long. A few days after your wedding it came off with the rest of your jewelry before bed. You just never put it back on. It was a fake wedding after all.
That didn’t mean that you threw it away though. Quite the opposite. The ring sat on your bedside table, occasionally glimmering in the light.
Sometimes, you would run your fingers over it before bed. You relished the idea of it all. The memory of his hands holding yours, the feeling of his lips on yours. It haunted you.
The Doctor, however, never took it off. Not after the wedding. Not before bed. Not when he fiddled with the wires under the TARDIS console.
You noticed this one evening, the dimmed lights of the control room catching on the polished metal.
“Why do you still wear that?” you asked, gesturing to the Doctor’s left hand. His eyes traveled to the band on his finger that he had been idly spinning.
“It’s my wedding band,” he shrugged as if it was as simple as that.
“I’m not sure you can call it that,” you laughed, “I’m not even sure our wedding was legal.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” he frowned, still looking at the ring.
“I can take it off if it bothers you,” he suggested. He didn’t want to take it off, not ever. But if you wanted him to, he would.
“It doesn’t,” you whispered, staring at the space where your own ring used to be. The feeling of his lips came back to you, and you had to push it to the side.
“Did it mean nothing to you?” He asked, his voice hardly above a whisper. If you hadn’t been listening you might have missed it.
“Not at all,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes.
“You don’t wear yours,” he commented, taking your left hand in his. You stared at your interlocked hands, not trusting yourself to meet his eye.
“You married me to save my life,” you stated.
“And?”
“It was a fake marriage.”
“Not to me,” he whispered, running his thumb over the back of your hand. Your eyes drifted up to his face. He was looking at your hand with a pained expression. For the first time, it occurred to you that perhaps the absence of your ring was upsetting to him. For so long, you had assumed that he just wanted to forget the whole thing.
“I love you,” he whispered, “I always wanted you to be my wife.”
You didn’t know what to say. For a minute, you hardly believed the words coming from his mouth.
“I always wanted you to be my husband,” you whispered, leaning in towards him. You paused, your breath bouncing off of his lips. It reminded you of your first kiss, the familiarity of it shocking.
You learned in and kissed him gently, a tender kiss to test the waters. You pulled away, unsure if this was what he wanted. The Doctor gripped your face, crashing his lips against yours in a much more urgent matter. You smiled against his mouth, melting into the kiss.
“My wife,” he chuckled between the kisses he planted all over your face.
“My husband.”
can’t find the original account but I’m glad someone reposted this😭
could you maybe write early 2000s Hayden being interviewed by reader pleaseee? And they immediately connect together.
Maybe a Time Skip of them being married but this time reader interviews him and ewan for the obi wan Kenobi series.
🎀HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN X INTERVIEWER! READER🎀
a/n: hello there, I love the ideia, sound so sweet and wonderful imagine meet the love of your life doing you job... lol. .. hope you enjoyed ❤️❤️
💌As always my inbox is OPEN!
With the premiere of Revenge of the Sith, the final installment of the prequel trilogy, anticipation was at an all-time high. Fans were eager to see the story unfold, with emotions ranging from excitement to nervous curiosity. As part of the press tour, you were invited to interview Hayden Christensen, the Canadian actor who had brought the complex character of Anakin Skywalker to life.
Walking into the interview room, you felt a mix of nerves and determination. After triple-checking your questions, you decided to embrace a bit of confidence. When you finally stepped in, Hayden's warm smile immediately eased some of your tension.
His eyes flicked to your shirt, a pink tee with a playful design: a heart encircling an image of Anakin kneeling before Palpatine. The corners of his lips twitched upward.
"Nice shirt," he commented with a gentle tease, his voice light but intrigued.
You matched his smile, settling into your seat. "I thought it was important to represent my status as an unapologetic Anakin defender," you quipped, a playful edge to your tone.
His brows lifted, and he leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "Oh, so you're an Anakin apologist?" he asked, his voice laced with mock curiosity.
"Absolutely," you replied, crossing one leg over the other and folding your hands in your lap. "As far as I'm concerned, he's never done anything wrong. He’s misunderstood."
Hayden's laugh was warm and genuine, a sound that filled the room and made you momentarily forget your nerves. "That’s quite the take," he said, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Though I think there are a few Jedi who might beg to differ."
You grinned, leaning into the banter. "Well, they’re entitled to their opinion, but I stand by mine. Anakin had his reasons, and I’d be happy to debate it."
Hayden chuckled again, his relaxed demeanor making the conversation flow effortlessly. "I might take you up on that sometime," he said, a glimmer of playfulness in his tone.
"Careful," you teased. "I’ve come prepared. My notes are in the bag."
His smile widened. "Now I’m nervous."
The back-and-forth felt natural, as if you were old friends rather than strangers meeting for the first time. By the time the interview officially began, the chemistry between you two was undeniable, leaving both of you with lingering smiles long after the cameras started rolling.
“What can you tell us about the movie?” you asked, leaning forward slightly, your voice filled with genuine curiosity. “Everyone is so eager to know more about how Anakin became the most iconic villain in the galaxy.”
Hayden took a moment, his eyes drifting as if recalling the weight of Anakin’s journey. After a brief pause, he began, his voice steady but thoughtful.
“Anakin’s downfall is… one of the most tragic stories in the galaxy,” he said, his words deliberate. “He was a hero, a Jedi—a man who loved deeply and passionately.” Hayden hesitated, as if lost in thought for a moment, before continuing, his voice dipping lower. “But that love, combined with the temptation of power and revenge, consumed him. He made choices—terrible choices—that led him down a path he couldn’t escape.”
"But do you really believe he had a choice?" You asked.
There was a heaviness in his tone, one that hung between you both for a beat. He exhaled softly before adding, “I’ve always believed the Jedi Council failed him in many ways. They never fully trusted him, never gave him the tools to handle his emotions or the support he needed.” Hayden shrugged lightly, his expression tinged with regret. “Anakin was born into a difficult life, forced to grow up too fast. Maybe, if the Council had been kinder—had truly helped him—things could’ve been different. But… we’ll never know.”
You smiled at his insight, admiring the depth he brought to his portrayal of Anakin. “It’s clear you’ve thought a lot about him,” you said warmly. “But now, I have to ask… what do you and Anakin have in common?”
Hayden chuckled softly, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, we both have a bit of a temper,” he admitted, a teasing glint in his eye. “Anakin was impulsive—always acted before thinking—and I guess I can relate to that at times.”
You raised an eyebrow, playful. “Hot-headed Hayden? I don’t buy it.”
“Hey, it happens,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock defense. “But I think, more than that, we both crave freedom and adventure. Although, I’ll admit, Anakin’s version of freedom was… a little extreme.”
“And high speeds,” you chimed in, your tone light and teasing. “I saw those photos of you at the car event. Looks like someone enjoys life in the fast lane.”
Hayden laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Guilty as charged,” he said, nodding. “There’s nothing like the rush of being behind the wheel. It’s probably the closest I’ll get to feeling what Anakin did in his starfighter.”
“Do you think you’d win a podrace like him?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.
He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Not a chance. Anakin was the only human who could pull that off—he was a prodigy. Me? I’d probably crash before the first lap was over.”
You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Well, let’s hope you stick to Earth racing then. Losing you in a podrace would be… a real shame.”
Hayden laughed along, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “I’ll take that as a reason to play it safe.”
The interview was filled with lighthearted moments, each exchange flowing effortlessly. When the time was up, the producer gave you a subtle signal to wrap it up.
Hayden frowned slightly, his lips tugging into a boyish pout. “Oh, it’s over already? Just when we were getting to the good part,” he said, his voice soft but teasing. “You should interview me more often.”
“Maybe we can arrange that,” you replied with a mischievous smile, giving him a playful wink.
Who would’ve guessed that years later, you’d be interviewing him again—not as the star of Revenge of the Sith but as the love of your life. After all, life had a funny way of surprising you.
Now, almost two decades later, standing at the premiere of the Kenobi series, you smoothed the hem of your dress and glanced toward Hayden, your husband of fifteen years. As he and Ewan McGregor approached for your joint interview, Hayden caught your gaze, his eyes lighting up with the same warmth they’d held all those years ago.
Here’s an improved version of your oneshot, with more fluid dialogue and an emphasis on their chemistry and love:
Hayden couldn’t stop smiling, his blue eyes following your every move as you adjusted your microphone. When you glanced over, he mouthed a quiet, “I love you.”
You grinned softly, your heart skipping a beat as you turned to face him and Ewan. “Hello, Ewan, Hayden,” you began, your voice warm and professional. “I think this reunion of Obi-Wan and Anakin has been the most anticipated moment for fans of the saga.” You paused, glancing between them. “How did it feel to put on those costumes again and dive back into the story?”
Ewan tilted his head thoughtfully. “That’s a good question,” he said with a nostalgic smile. “It’s funny, really. Even though decades have passed, the moment we put on the Jedi robes and started training, it felt like no time had gone by—like we jumped straight from Revenge of the Sith to Kenobi.”
You leaned forward slightly, intrigued. “So, wielding a lightsaber is like riding a bike? You never forget?”
“For this guy, yeah,” Ewan replied with a teasing grin, nodding toward Hayden. “He grabbed a saber, and it was already spinning and twirling all over the place.”
You laughed, playfully joining in. “Show-off,” you teased, winking at Hayden.
Hayden threw his head back with a laugh, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Honey, now you’re too much,” he joked, his tone light and affectionate. Then, with a smirk, he added, “But I won’t deny it—I might be the best at lightsaber fighting.” He paused for effect, his grin widening. “Except when I’m battling our daughters. Somehow, they always win.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the mention of your kids. “They beat the Chosen One? Impressive. I wonder how many midichlorians they’ve got.”
Ewan chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, while Hayden gave you a knowing smile.
Later in the interview, you absentmindedly rubbed your arms, trying to warm yourself against the chill in the studio. Hayden noticed instantly. Without hesitation, he stood, slipped off his jacket, and draped it over your shoulders before returning to his seat.
You shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks, love,” you murmured softly.
His response was a quick wink, his eyes lingering on yours before turning back to the conversation.
“But seriously,” you said, steering the interview back on track, “what everyone wants to know is—will we get a fight as epic as Mustafar?”
Ewan and Hayden exchanged a knowing look before breaking into amused smiles.
“Well,” Ewan began, “we can’t say much, but I will say this: there are some very intense moments.”
Hayden leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to create intrigue. “You’ll be surprised when you see it.”
You guided the rest of the interview effortlessly, the atmosphere light and friendly. It was obvious to everyone that the three of you shared a genuine bond. Ewan, after all, was the godfather to your eldest daughter and a regular presence in your home.
As the interview wrapped up, you smiled warmly at the pair. “Finally, would you like to invite the fans to join you on this new adventure?”
Ewan was the first to respond, his grin wide. “Obi-Wan’s story isn’t over yet. We’re excited to have you join us on this next journey.”
Hayden nodded, his voice sincere. “Bringing these characters back to life was a dream come true. Every moment on set was unforgettable. We can’t wait for you to watch Kenobi on Disney+ starting May 27th.”
As soon as the cameras stopped rolling, Hayden was out of his chair and at your side in seconds. He pulled you into a warm embrace, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Oh, baby, you were incredible,” he said softly, his hand resting at your waist as his thumb gently stroked over the fabric of your dress. “Thank God you interviewed me all those years ago.”
You smiled, your heart full. “And I’m so glad I did.”
“Absolutely,” he murmured, tilting your chin up to press a lingering kiss to your lips.
When he pulled back, his gaze fell to the plush Anakin and Obi-Wan dolls peeking out of your bag. “Are those for the kids?”
You nodded, amused. “Of course. They’re going to love them.”
You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. “Are you sure I’m not the one who’s going to end up stealing them after they go to bed?”
Hayden laughed, nudging you lightly. “Guilty as charged” he admitted with a laugh, his eyes shining with love and mischief.
As you left the studio together, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the life you’d built—a love story that started with a simple interview and had grown into something extraordinary.
“the calm before the storm”
stormshadow (lee byung hun) x you
stormshadow had been hired by cobra commander to retrieve the warheads from the gi joes. but they failed to inform him that he had to work with a partner… someone he had grown very fond of
──── 𖣘 ────
“stormshadow, this is y/n. you will be working together to retrieve the warheads.” the commander said, leaving you and him both in shock as he walked off.
“i’m sorry, i wasn’t told i was working with anyone.” you said, breaking the silence.
“me neither.” he replied, “that’s alright, ms y/n? i presume?”
he extended his hand out as he the other slipped his sword back into its sleeve, not wanting to scare you away.
“yeah, stormshadow right? i’ve heard stories about you.”
he nodded, bringing your hand up to his lips as he placed a gentle kiss on it.
“i’m honored.” he smiled.
“c’mon, people! planes taking off!” the pilot announced, making stormshadow take your hand, bringing you to the private jet.
once you were on the jet, you took your seats, stormshadow sitting right beside you.
“so is it true?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
“what is?” he cocked an eyebrow.
“you have those little star throwing thingies.” you tried to hold back your laughter, making him roll his eyes playfully.
he pulled something out of his pocket, holding it up with two fingers as your mouth dropped.
“it’s beautiful!” you gasped, admiring the shuriken.
stormshadow watched with pride as you were in awe of his weapon, it was so easy to get your attention, he loved it.
for the rest of the flight, he showed you one by one each weapon he had in him, even giving you one of his shuriken as a gift.
──── 𖣘 ────
when you landed, the two of you headed straight to the location the g.i. joe’s were camping at.
sneaking into the facility was easy, but for stormshadow he was having a hard time, he couldn’t for the life of him focus. maybe it was the similar white suit you had on that perfectly hugged your body, showing off your curves. or the fact that he was supposed to be doing a mission with the best girl he had ever met.
in-and-out. easy.
naturally, the joe’s had caught on quickly, causing the entire mission to take a dangerous toll. stormshadow was a professional, he knew what he needed to do, and most of the time, he did it all for the money.
little did he expect himself to actually enjoy this particular mission. he stole glances from you whenever he could, making sure you were okay.
when you had gotten your hands on the breifcase of warheads, he guided you every step of the way as the two of you escaped.
however, there was a complication just as you could step out of the facility. the guard must have been hiding, because stormshadow had almost ran right into his arms.
you thought quickly, taking the shuriken he had given you and tossing it right into the guards abdomen, causing him to fold over, lesring your path.
stormshadow halted, making you crash into him.
“where did that come from?!” he asked frantically as he looked around.
“what? what?! that was me!”
“you?!”
“yea! how could you not have seen him! he was practically hiding in plain sight!”
“we’ll settle this later, we gotta get out of here.” he lightly scolded, grabbing your arm as you took off.
──── 𖣘 ────
when you got back to cobra base, you were greeted at the front gate by the head commander.
“ah, y/n! i knew i could count on you!” he said, pulling you into a hug as his hand got dangerously low behind your back.
stormshadow didn’t leave his action unnoticed.
“well, i had help.” you awkwardly chuckled as you pulled away.
after some small talk, you retreated back to your room, throwing yourself onto the bed as you let out a sigh of relief.
“if he touches you again, i will kill him.”
you jerked up from the bed, letting out a loud scream as you grabbed your gun, aiming it at the voice.
“whoa, whoa.” it was stormshadow. he stepped into the light, making you throw your gun aside.
“jesus… you scared me.” you chuckled, hand on your chest as you sat back down.
“i thought you were a professional?” he teased, stepping in front of you.
“and by the way, you don’t have to kill him, everything’s fine. he’s just touchy.” you shook your head.
“we’ll see if he dares to lay a hand on you again.” stormshadow replied. “you know, that was some impressive skills back there, you saved me… i feel like i should owe you something.”
you grinned. “it was an easy throw, you’re just getting soft on me.”
“maybe.” he whispered, staring deep into your eyes. “i can’t focus with you here…” he admitted.
“that’s too bad.” you told him. “maybe you should find another job.”
“i don’t think i want to.”
you were now inches away from each other, you could feel his breath panning on your skin, his eyes still never leaving yours.
before you could stand a chance to seal the deal, the door flew open.
“who’s ready for another mission?”
──── 𖣘 ────
i’m not kidding when i say i’ve watched 3 movies that lee byung hun had starred in in the past 24hours. i am losing my mind.
the movie this is based on is g.i. joe, go watch!
જ⁀➴°⋆ BYUNG-HUN’S CONTROVERSIALLY YOUNG GIRLFRIEND
“i swear to god if you become a fashion icon im gonna kill myself”
ᯓ★ his young girlfriend who can’t help but post her sweet and loving boyfriend
part 1
part 2
part 3
𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐃 𝐌𝐂𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 ┆ not so hidden 𖢖
reader catching david being violent with someone ᬬ david’s other side isn’t as hidden as he thinks ᬬ
you steps slowed when you hear the whimpering. then your brow furrows when you hear the voice. david’s voice. he sounds angry? and why is there someone pleading with david not to hurt them?
you round the corner, coming to a halt at the sight in front of you. david, with his back turned to you, one fist holding a guy a few inches off of the ground by his shirt. the other first, posed in the air, angling to hit the guy.
“you know what’ll happen if you touch her again, right? do i need to remind you? is that bruise not enough, you want more?” david sounded manically. . joyous as he said the words. almost like he said them with a smile on his face that you couldn’t see.
the guy shook his head quickly, his head slightly moving to the side as david’s fist inched closer. “i don’t need your filthy hands touching my girl and tainting her. i oughta cut them off right here,” david lowered his fist to reach into his back pocket.
you quickly called out his name before he could reveal what he was reaching for. both of the boys turned to you. one, relieved to see you, the other, stumped.
david quickly let go of the boy’s shirt, taking a step back like he wasn’t just about to. . severely hurt the guy. he quickly moved his hand from his pocket, tossing an innocent smile your way. “hey, baby. i was just on my way to get you. this guy here,” david gestured to the trembling boy, “looked lost. was just trying to help him out.”
you couldn’t believe the lie that steered so far from what you just witnessed. david furrowed a brow, chest heaving from the anger he felt towards the guy and now seeing you, not sure how much you saw and how you’ll react. “why aren’t you still at school? were you walking home? why would you do that, i said i was getting you. just, just come back to my car. let’s get out of here.” david gestured his head towards where his car was parked.
you slowly shook your head, taking a step back. “i’ll walk. it’s fine.” you spun on your heels, deciding to take a different route. a route then didn’t involve david trying to stop you.
“no. .” you heard from behind you before your arm was snatched back, david pulling you toward him. “no, i’ll drive you. i don’t like you walking, it’s weird people out here. just get in the car.”
you turned your head towards david, movement behind him catching your eye. you looked over his shoulder to see the guy david was threatening, putting a phone up to his ear, nodding at you.
you swallowed, nervously looking back to david. “he’s calling the cops.” you whispered. david scrunched his face, looking back to the guy and letting go of you to rush over to him. you took that moment to run off.
david turned in time to see you fleeing the scene. he huffed out a breath, turning to the guy. he silently grabbed the phone, throwing it to the ground, and crushing it. “she just needs some time to herself. it’s fine. i’m not pressuring her. nothing is wrong.” he told the guy, or more so himself, then got into his car.
he drove to his place, actually giving you some time to yourself. after spending some time worrying his head about you, he decided to call. when you didn’t answer, he tried again. then again. were you ignoring him? david was quick to leave out again, driving to your place.
once he pulled up, he grabbed the spare key he had made from underneath the plant that sat outside of your front door. letting himself in, he wandered around looking for you.
spotting you in your room, david was methodical to sneak up behind you, grabbing you in a hold that you couldn’t escape from. you yelped out, david shushing you. “it’s just me. it’s just me. you weren’t responding to me and i got worried.” david spun you around in his arms. you peered up at him, not knowing what to say. first, he threatens a guy for touching you, which you don’t really remember, then gets into your house when the door was locked.
“i just. . i felt like walking. and you looked busy. .” you tried to explain. david smiled down at you. he shrugged. “wasn’t busy. i told you, he was lost. and i offered to drive you, you know i wasn’t busy. why’d you really walk off? why’d you ignore my calls? i told you what happened, why are you acting scared of me?” david rambled on, getting more aggressive after each sentence.
“david, i think you know why. .” you tried to slip from his arms. he was quick to tighten his grip though, pulling a confused face. “no, i don’t. i think you’re confused. you think you saw something that you didn’t. it’s fine. you know i wouldn’t hurt anyone. and i definitely wouldn’t hurt you. i just have to let people know sometimes. . that you’re off limits. i have to gently remind them, it’s nothing wrong with that.” david smiled softly again.
you nodded along, too scared to disagree or continue to try to make your point. you leaned forward into david for a hug, him immediately embracing you and sighing out at the touch of you. while he was distracted, you quickly reached into his back pocket, pulling out whatever he was reaching for earlier. when your hand returned with a switchblade in it, you simply gasped as you stared at it.
david was quick to snatch it back. “don’t touch that. you’ll hurt yourself.” he placed it back in his pocket.
with his arms free from around you, you took multiple steps back. “david, you were going to. . cut him? stab him? you threatened him with a knife.” your voice raised.
david shook his head at you, coming closer to kneel in front of you, grasping your arms and peering up at you. “i told you, i have to remind people. this guy just had to be reminded. . differently. he wasn’t listening. you understand that, right? you understand i can’t let people hurt you. you want to be with me, right? you want me to keep you safe? that’s how i do it. you can’t be mad at me for that. you can’t ignore me for that.” david sneered.
you slowly nodded as david rose to his full height. “yeah? you believe me? you done thinking those crazy thoughs?” he chuckled.
“yeah. . yeah, i’m sorry.” you whispered. what could you even say? he was proving to be a caring, protective boyfriend. why wouldn’t you appreciate him?
david smirked at you. “it’s alright, don’t apologize. just don’t ignore me again, okay?” the light smirk fell from his face. “i mean it, don’t do that to me again.”
Arcane Imagine;
pairings; Vi/reader
Imagine you and Vi moving in together for the first time.
warnings; fluff, established relationship, love sick!vi, more fluff & comfort, arcane au, implied smut reference, teasing, s*xual jokes
a/n; I recently moved <33 so I wanted to write a lil something for vi I can now get back to writing and making silly lil posts because moving is exhausting as fuck lmao
You and Vi have been thinking about moving in together for the longest time, Vi first thought about it when she laid eyes on you when she saw you at the bar
You were with your friends, hanging out, drinks in hand, laughing along with them, she couldn't stop staring at you, how gorgeous you looked that night, how effortlessly beautiful you are to her
She really was a moth that was drawn to the flame
Because randomly, after meeting you, talking to you for a few hours in some bathroom, she was already attached to you, she didn't say it out loud then, it took her ages to actually tell you she has feelings for you
When she did though, it was the best decision she's made, and the one that didn't go to shit
Vi is always by your side, clinging to you, like a lost puppy, it's adorable, you think, as you do the same to her
But when it's just you two, she really let's down her walls and is just completely herself
When there's others around, she puts on that tough act, your very own scary dog privilege
No one can touch you or talk to you in a wrong way, and if someone upsets you, makes you uncomfortable, well they're in for a beating
Vi does not mind getting her knuckles bloody for you
When you brought up the idea of living together in an apartment, even if it wasn't that big and the rent was high, Vi immediately jumped on board
You found it really fucking cute, watching her ramble excitedly about how you two should decorate your room, apartment, she says how you can have your plants in different places, a nice coffee table, a tv, games, you just really liked listening to her talk
Now when you two did the apartment hunting, that was long and slightly boring, having to meet up with strangers to potentially set a deal on your new home, yes, you were both still very excited, and finally, after trying to find the right one, you both found your home
You got what you could afford, and after signing the lease and getting the keys, you were able to officially move in
The moving was stressful, getting everything together, making sure nothing was lost or broken, Vi kept on worrying about her CDs and DVD collection, same with her other collections she has that she didn't want to lose, stuff that she's kept from her childhood, rare items she's found that people have thrown away for some reason and it's actually worth a lot, Vi likes those stuff, she likes finding good things
You like to add to the collections to, when you find things that remind you of Vi
Vi wouldn't show much of her "nerdy" side to anyone else but you had that special spot
There definitely would be Vi making sex jokes, how the new couch would be perfect to try new positions on, or how the bed might not last that long, for that you slapped her playfully on the shoulder, and she laughed hard
She loved teasing you
And will not stop
Vi never really knew she was ever gonna experience this, just that domestic life filled with good moments that will play a huge part in your life for years, and here she was with you, she did not want to let go
Vi was excited about turning this place into a home that shows the both of you, so when they invited people over they would know immediately
She was crazy for you, in the best way possible and you wouldn't have it anyway else
favvvvv
Waves of Love
Drew Starkey x younger!gf!reader
hi guys this was in my drafts for a long time because i wanted it to be perfect, it’s really important topic!! important to me because i volunteer in many many things, like helping the animals and children and many more things. I do this for a long time, i started when i was 11 and please volunteer help other people or animals!!! it doesn’t cost anything.
word count: 2k? i think
masterlist
It was a crisp autumn morning, and the sun was slowly creeping over the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. Drew sat in the quiet of his trailer, preparing for another long day of shooting for Outer Banks. Though the set was buzzing with the usual pre-production energy, Drew found himself lost in thoughts of his girlfriend, y/n. They had been dating for just over a year, and every day with her felt like a new adventure.
Y/N had always been passionate about animal conservation, especially marine life. She had grown up near the coast, where the ocean was both a playground and a sanctuary. As long as Drew had known her, she had always been at the forefront of causes that advocated for the protection of aquatic animals, often volunteering her time to help with rescue efforts, rehabilitation, and beach clean-ups. Drew admired her dedication and often found himself in awe of how much she cared about making the world a better place, even if it was in small ways that often went unnoticed by the public.
Her latest endeavor was the launch of a foundation that focused on protecting ocean ecosystems and the creatures that lived within them. It had been a long time coming, and she had finally taken the plunge, officially starting her charity. She had a big heart and had poured her soul into the work, determined to make a difference.
Drew was incredibly supportive of her passion, and he knew that, as her boyfriend, his role was not only to be her biggest fan but also to use his platform to bring awareness to her cause.
𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺
Later that day, Drew was on set with his Outer Banks co-stars, Madelyn Cline, Rudy Pankow, and Jonathan Daviss. They were in the middle of filming a scene, but there was a break in between shots, and the cast members gathered in the green room to relax.
As usual, Drew’s phone buzzed with messages from Y/N. He smiled as he read the text she had sent him earlier in the morning:
“Hey babe! Just wanted to let you know the ocean rescue team is getting a big donation today! Feels like a win! Can’t wait to see you later! xx”
Drew felt a swell of pride for her. It wasn’t always easy for people to understand the work she did, but Drew had always been an advocate for her cause, both publicly and privately. He loved watching her shine in ways that were truly meaningful.
Suddenly, a voice broke him from his reverie. It was Madelyn, always the curious one, her eyes lighting up as she spoke.
“Drew, we heard you’ve been pretty vocal about Y/N and her animal rescue foundation lately. What’s that all about? Are you her PR guy now?”
Drew laughed, not at all surprised by the teasing. “No, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t proud of her,” he said, his voice soft but sincere. “She’s doing something important, something that matters. I’ll always support her.”
Rudy leaned in, ever the supportive friend. “Yeah, dude, we’ve all seen the posts. You’ve been going all out, spreading the word about her foundation. It’s pretty awesome.”
Drew smiled, a mixture of pride and humility showing on his face. “It’s easy when the person you’re supporting is someone like Y/N. She’s amazing. She’s working hard to help the ocean, the creatures, and the people who care about it.”
Madelyn, always curious, grinned. “So, what’s the big push? How can we help?”
Drew looked at his co-stars, then pulled out his phone. “Actually, Y/N sent me this link earlier today,” he said, showing them the website for her foundation, Waves of Hope.
“Here,” he said, scrolling through the site. “There’s a donation link, but she’s also looking for volunteers who can help with rescues and educational programs.”
Jonathan, who had been listening intently, smiled. “I’m down. I mean, I love the ocean, and if we can help, why not?”
Drew’s eyes softened as he gazed at his friends. “Exactly. She’s all about getting as many people involved as possible. Every little bit counts.”
“Hell yeah!” Rudy added. “If there’s one thing I’m passionate about besides acting, it’s the environment. Let’s do it.”
Madelyn was nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll definitely sign up. I mean, how often do we get to help out with something so meaningful?”
The conversation turned to ways they could support the cause, and Drew knew that by having his co-stars on board, it would make a significant difference. The exposure was exactly what Waves of Hope needed, and it would show[Y/N how much Drew’s support meant.
𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺
As the day wore on, Drew kept an eye on social media. He was used to the whirlwind of comments, posts, and questions from fans, but today was different. A post from him had garnered more attention than usual. It was a photo of him and Y/N taken at the beach, a candid shot that captured the joy they shared in each other’s presence.
Drewstarkey✔︎
liked by madelyncline and 4.5M others
drewstarkey : So proud of my girl for all the work she’s doing with Waves of Hope. If you’re looking to make a difference, check out her foundation and find out how you can get involved. The ocean and all its creatures need us now more than ever.
comments:
madelyncline✔︎: Incredible work, Y/N! So proud of you and everything you’re doing for our oceans.
fan88: This is the kind of love and support we all need. So proud of both of you for spreading awareness about this vital cause! 🙌 #OceanConservation
Jonathandaviss✔︎: Keep shining, Y/N, you’re making such a big difference. 💪 #WavesOfHope
fan33: Such a great cause! I just donated and signed up to volunteer! Let’s make a change! 🌱🐬 #WavesOfHope
load more….
The comments were flooding in with fans expressing their support. But what Drew didn’t expect was the media attention that followed. Outlets began to cover his endorsement of Y/N’s cause, with headlines that ranged from the heartwarming to the investigative:
“Drew Starkey Supports Girlfriend’s Ocean Conservation Foundation”
“Outer Banks’ Drew Starkey Shows Off His ‘Real’ Side with Emotional Support for Girlfriend’s Charity”
“Drew Starkey: From On-Screen Hero to Real-Life Advocate for Marine Life”
𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺
As expected, the next day, Drew found himself in front of a reporter for an interview that was mostly focused on his latest projects and the upcoming season of Outer Banks. But, of course, the subject of his relationship with Y/N and her work came up as well.
“So, Drew,” the interviewer began, “there’s been a lot of buzz about your relationship with Y/N, and we’ve noticed that you’ve been using your platform to promote her foundation, Waves of Hope. What made you decide to get so involved in supporting her cause?”
Drew took a moment before answering. He wasn’t one to shy away from talking about the people he cared about, especially Y/N. “Y/N has a passion for the ocean and marine life that I’ve never seen before. She’s out there working tirelessly to make a real difference. It’s an honor to support her in any way I can.”
He smiled, his pride for her evident. “We all need to do our part to protect the planet, especially the oceans. They’re so important, not just for the creatures that live there, but for the health of our entire world. I’m just happy to be a small part of what she’s doing.”
The interviewer smiled, clearly impressed with Drew’s words. “That’s incredible. It seems like you’re encouraging others to get involved too. Is that something you’re passionate about?”
“I believe in using your platform for good,” Drew said, looking directly at the camera. “If I can help raise awareness and encourage others to take action, even in small ways, then I think it’s worth it.”
The interviewer nodded. “We love seeing you so supportive of Y/N. You’ve been pretty vocal on social media about her foundation as well.”
Drew chuckled. “What can I say? I’m proud of her. And I know she’s doing something important, so it’s easy to get behind.”
𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺𐬺
As the weeks went by, Drew continued to show his support for Y/N and her foundation. The media attention eventually simmered down, but the momentum for Waves of Hope had only grown. Fans who had never considered supporting environmental causes were now signing up to volunteer, donating, and spreading the word about the importance of ocean conservation.
For Y/N, the success of her foundation was a dream come true, but it wasn’t without its challenges. Running a charity was no easy feat, and there were times when she felt overwhelmed by the demands of it all. That’s when Drew stepped in, offering a steady hand and a listening ear. He was always there when she needed him, whether it was for a quiet evening at home to recharge or a public appearance to help raise funds.
One evening, after a particularly successful fundraiser, Drew and Y/N were sitting on the beach, watching the waves crash against the shore. It was their favorite spot to unwind, and as the night sky enveloped them in its peaceful embrace, Drew turned to her.
“You did it, babe,” he said softly. “You’ve really made an impact.”
Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’ve always had my back.”
Drew leaned in and kissed her forehead gently. “Always.”
As they sat together in the calm of the night, the ocean whispering around them, Drew realized just how much he had fallen for Y/N. Her passion, her drive, and her unwavering commitment to making the world a better place were just some of the things that made her the woman he loved.
love y’all!!!!💗
i love how s3 finale completely flips our perspective on the hunt from the pilot. half of the girls weren’t even hunting. van standing over the pit seemed so menacing in the pilot but now it’s just heartbreaking. mari being pit girl, not because the wilderness chose but because shauna chose. mari was only wearing a nightdress so she could use her clothes as a decoy. and turns out mari was a decoy while the others tried to get rescue. misty removing her mask and smiling not because they caught mari but because they’re getting rescued and there’s nothing shauna can do about it. the hair on the antler queen costume wasn’t a collection of various victims’ hair, it was just mari’s. this whole time we thought it was all the girls collectively giving in to the hunt and the wildness of it, but really it was just shauna, along with lottie and tai. none of them wanted to do a hunt, none of them wanted mari to be chosen.
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