windswept sky

The Storm (Optional Bias x Reader)

Originally posted by cuddlesandcashmere

A/N - It’s been a minute.

You couldn’t even remember what had started the argument.

You sat at the kitchen table, your hands flat and still trembling on the table top, warm tears flowing down your swollen cheeks as you stared blankly at the door. B/N had left over an hour ago, and it hurt you more than you imagined.

You and B/N had been bumping heads for the last month, yelling at each other for small things, insignificants things that shouldn’t have even been enough to set you two off. You both would reconcile hours or minutes later, but the next couple of days would result in the same pattern. You couldn’t put your finger on it, and neither could he, but you two had somehow reached a wall in your relationship. You weren’t moving forward anymore. You were constantly fighting, constantly arguing, constantly finding little things about each other to nitpick at. It bothered you to no end, it frustrated him beyond comprehensible means, it kept both of you from sleeping, and yet you couldn’t seem to get past it.

And after all the building pressure over the weeks, you two had finally reached the boiling point.

It was unsure as to who or what started it, but one thing led to another. The snarky comments escalated into straight accusations. You argued about everything. You fought about nothing. You screamed and you cursed at each other until both of you were ready to choke the other. You remembered telling him in the midst of the heated moment that you wanted him to get his shit and leave.

And because he was so riled up, so upset, and so done with everything going on between you two, he blindly complied.

He grabbed a jacket and his keys, and he left with a rattling slam of the door.

And once you finally realized what had happened, your anger dissipated as fast as it had come, and you broke down and cried.

It had been a week since you had seen B/N. You two spoke only in text messages and only discussed when he would return to gather his things. The texts were short and sweet, and they shattered more and more of your heart every time. You didn’t want him to leave. Deep in your heart, mind and soul, you knew that that was the last thing you wanted him to do. But he seemed so willing and so ready go to. He never mentioned the argument or talked about the hasty decision made between you two, so you kept quiet on your end.

Maybe deep down, it was something he wanted.

You slept on the couch all that week because you couldn’t handle being in the room you had shared with him.

It was late Monday evening when he decided to come get his things.

B/N knew that you never worked on Mondays, and he had been given a few personal days off from his job because he couldn’t seem to function after the argument. His mind was always on what happened and what was currently plaguing the both of you. You were barely talking to him, and he figured that you had been serious about him moving out. You didn’t want him around anymore, and as painful as it was for him to believe it, he would do as you asked. He would do whatever you asked in order to make you happy. So instead of putting it off any longer, he finally decided to go and grab his belongings while you were both available. It was a good time as any for you to get it over with.

That day had been melancholy from the start, the skies grey and gloomy since the morning. There hadn’t been any rain as of yet, but many of the news channels suspected terrible storms either late that night or in the following morning. You had been patiently waiting and hoping for the rain. You hated storms, but you silently prayed for one to blow through fiercely. It was selfish of you, but if it rained then B/N wouldn’t come over. He’d have to postpone his pickup until you were both off again, and maybe by then, you would build up the courage to apologize to him or at least strike up a conversation that consisted of more than yes/no questions and answers. However, the luck seemed to be against you as the skies continued to get darker but not release any liquid tension.

You sat on the couch, your TV set to Pandora as you stared at the blank screen and let the music take you all over the place. You kept yourself from choosing a radio station that would make you a blubbering mess on the floor, but you didn’t make any effort to skip any songs that made you hurt. You didn’t cry, your tears dried up for the moment, but you continued to sulk silently as lyric after lyric coursed from the TV and through your tired body. It was a few minutes after eight when you received a knock on your door and your sulking session was momentarily halted. Unfolding your legs from under you and staring at the door for a few seconds, you slowly made your way to it, dreading the interaction you would have for the next hour or so. You opened the door and your stomach twisted painfully in regret and longing as you met the eyes of the man who had haunted your thoughts and dreams for the past few days. He gave you a small smile that you returned with a lot of effort.

“Hey,” he said softly, his brown eyes gentle and tired behind his windswept hair. The sky was now a menacing shade of black, the chilling wind picking up violently and blowing B/N’s hair every which way. There was still no sign of actual rain.

“Hey,” you replied just as quietly before shifting to the side to let him in the apartment before anything serious happened. He came in, a small duffle bag gripped in his right hand. He had turned back to you as you shut the door and caught your gaze on the bag. You eyed the bag warily, your throat closing at the sight of it. You wanted to snatch the bag from him and beg him to reconsider and stay, but you refrained from doing so despite the fact that B/N would have willingly, if not eagerly, let you. Both of you had similar thoughts of wanting to apologize, but both of you also figured the other really wanted this to happen. Nothing was said, both too stubborn and scared to say what you really wanted to say. When a minute went by with no words spoken except by the soft music playing from the TV, B/N cleared his throat.

“I’ll only be getting a few things for now.” It might have just been your hopeful mind, but you could have sworn his words had inflected upward, as if he was asking permission.

As if he was hinting at you to stop him.

“Okay,” you nodded, avoiding looking at him. You quickly took your direction of interest to the refrigerator, your mouth suddenly dry and in need of something to help you swallow your guilt and regret. You were too busy with trying to keep your eyes away from B/N that you missed his saddened look and heavy sigh. You grabbed a bottle of water and as you took a few huge gulps of the cool liquid, you allowed yourself to turn back and watch his back disappear into your once shared bedroom. You turned your back and faced the sink instead, the corner seemingly more appropriate to look at. Your breath was hitching, and you could feel your tear ducts refilling. Damn it, you didn’t want to cry right now. Not until after he had left.

Your tears were prematurely stopped as a shrill, continuous screech of a noise erupted from the TV. The sound then broke into several sustained notes of equal pitch before an automated voice filled the air of the room.

“We interrupt your programming to deliver a warning of severe storms in the areas of…”

The music on your Pandora had paused and had been replaced by a severe storm warning. Your eyes then went to the windows, and you saw that the wind was blowing even more ferociously, but there was now accompanying rain. Seconds later, the announcement revealed that your area was under tornado watch.


Your thoughts were instantly on the fact that B/N would be stranded at your apartment until it blew over. You wouldn’t let him leave in such weather, no matter how awkward this would be for the both of you. You laughed humorlessly to yourself. You got your wish, but it was late and only making the situation worse. That’s what you got for being a stubborn jerk in the first place. You finished the rest of your bottle as the warning finally disappeared and your music started back up. You glanced back at the television then down the hall towards your bedroom. You wondered briefly if you should warn him, giving the chance he was too busy packing to hear the warning himself. But then again…. maybe it would blow over quickly. Maybe it would only last a few minutes at most, and then—

Flash… BOOM!

Your heart had already startled at the sight of bright strike of lightning flashing across your window, but it nearly stopped completely as the sound of the roaring thunder followed not even three seconds later. In straight fear, you crumpled to the ground, your back against the sofa and your head braced between your knees. There was another flash and then a seemingly louder crash of thunder before the lights flickered off and the music of your Pandora station cut off completely. The power was off. It was fully silent besides the pattering of the huge raindrops against the ceiling and windows and the erratic pounding of your heart in your ears. You squeezed your eyes shut, your body trembling. You stayed in that position for what felt like hours when it only a few minutes.


B/N’s soft voice reached your ears and you felt his presence closing in on you, but you kept yourself in your protective position, your terror keeping you from unfolding. You felt his hands pull against your arms, wanting you to move them from around your head and knees. You reluctantly allowed him to, and slowly, you lifted up your head. The room was dark, but you could still see his concerned expression and kind eyes. He could see the fright in yours, and he wanted nothing more than to take that fear away from you.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he reminded you, and you nodded.

Without saying anything more, he gently gripped both your hands and coaxed you to stand. Lightning stuck once more, and you fell into his arms without a second thought. He didn’t mind in the least, embracing and shielding you. He led you to the hallway, which was the safest area with no windows or glass nearby. You noted from your pressed position against his chest that he had pulled out a few comforters, a blanket, and a pillow off your bed and put them in the hallway to create a pallet. He then led both of you down to the ground on top of the comforters before throwing the blanket over you. You let yourself fall into his embrace, cuddling further into his chest, and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, whispering comforting words in your ear and stroking the skin of your arms until you visibly calmed down. Eventually, the pelting rain, flashing lightning, and screaming thunder didn’t seem so bad now that you were in B/N’s arms again. You appreciated him doing this for you. He was always your rock when the storms came through, and while you were in a tight spot at the moment, you were really thankful that he still decided to take care of you.

“Thank you,” you mumbled against his chest, and you received a hum in response.

You and B/N stayed tightly pressed together, both listening to the storm take out its anger on the world.

“B/N,” you spoke up after counting 100 of his heartbeats. “Will you stay… after the storm lets up?”

You didn’t receive a response right away, and it terrified you. However, your face was gently coaxed upwards seconds later, and you met his relieved gaze. His thumb stroked across your cheeks then your lips.

“I thought you wanted me to—”

“No,” you negated quickly. You brought your lips to meet his, your eyes tearing up once again. “I’m sorry. I was stubborn and stupid. I want you to stay. I never wanted you to go.”

“I never wanted to leave,” he whispered, his grip tightening around your body as he kissed your lips once more. “I never want to leave.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled again against his lips that never let up.

“I’m sorry,” he echoed, eventually rolling you over so he could have better access to your mouth. He kissed you with fervor for a few minutes before pulling back. “I’m sorry about everything. I hate arguing with you.”

“Me too,” you agreed, using B/N’s braced position above you as a chance to wipe at your face. He pressed his lips to your cheeks and forehead before leaving light kisses on your neck, your arms wrapping back around his neck and waist to pull his weight back down on you. “I can’t believe it got this far.”

“It won’t ever get this far ever again,” he spoke determinedly, looking into your eyes with certainty. “We won’t do this anymore. It’s me and you. I promise, baby.”

He sealed the promise with more kisses, and both of you agreed through your actions and whispered words to never let such petty things destroy what you had. The storm blew over hours later, and it took with it the wall that was holding your relationship back.


A comeback to the Land of the Howling Winds appealed to me as a good year starter; to relive beautiful lightings, to return for unvisited landscapes. With just a piece of paper where the challenging ’Itbayat’, the northernmost inhabited island of the Philippines without beaches,  'what-to-photograph’, ‘where-to-view-twilights’ are jumblingly written, matched with my high hopes, I embarked on a Bombardier on an early Wednesday morn.
With the sun well high up in the sky and windswept hedges scattered on top of a hill looking like colorful round hairy trees in The Lorax in my head, the highlight begins. “Wasn’t it a good idea that I wore red today?” I ask my guide. “Just do a quick sideway step when it charges,” he banters.

January 2017


tony stark is odd socks and black coffee, a walking mess of windswept hair and sky bruised eyelids. he is metal hearted, a man who built himself wings so he didn’t have to be scared of falling any further. but sometimes the cracks in his smile get too big and you can see through to whats really inside, mouth crammed full of starfire, and its burning him up from the inside

he’s just another hollowed eyed, lost boy, reaching for the sun. he builds himself wings and he flies because he’s always falling and it’s true, what they say, about it feeling the same. he’s chapped lips and coffee rings, he’s chipped paint and worn metal. he’s iron against skin and rusted bones, he is breathtaking. - ohsebs


“I talked; you walked away.”

That dockside conversation in “Mother” alluded to another off-screen Captain Swan moment. (A/N: It was suppose to be “angst-y” but then those two lovelies made me put it in fluff and innuendos… go figure.)

He had that look in his eyes. The one that told her that he was weighing his options.

Let her be?



It was a look that was easy for Emma to read (he’d been wearing it since the moment she met him). Whatever it was cooking up in his exquisitely clever mind, she knew that she wasn’t going to like it. In fact, Emma was going to continue to revel in her state of denial curled up on the Captain’s bunk with her blanket covered legs holding up the propped open book. The text was beginning to blur under her exhaustion no matter how fascinating the adventures of a red handed female pirate were.

“Love,” his voice echoed in the silence.

Here we go. Emma reluctantly looked up at his form towering over her with a knee propped against the bunk. Without his leather jacket, she was able to fully admire his vest clad chest and paisley sleeved arms. Only man in all the realms who could pull that one off. 

“Sweetheart,” he began tentatively (which only inspired Emma to bite back a groan in the shadow of an impending argument).

“I thought you were going to make me a hot cocoa?” she asked trying to divert the conversation. Killian reaching back to his desk with a deft hand to grab the ancient looking mug resting innocently against the hardwood surface.

“One hot chocolate topped with your preferred whipping cream and cinnamon spice,” he announced with a flourish of his hook while depositing the hot beverage in her waiting hands.

“You’re the best.”

“Aye, that I am.”

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