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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

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Burn The Witch 20 - Final Warning [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Everyone has a past.

Series Masterlist

Not that you had ever been in a situation where you wanted to come clean to a target and blow your own cover, but you could easily say that this was one of the hardest things you had ever been through.

And considering your career, you had been through a lot.

You had no idea how to even begin the conversation, and you were pretty sure that it would completely ruin every chance of happiness you would have with him, every chance of a future together but—

You had to keep him safe. You owed him that much.

Considering your whole relationship had been nothing but a lie.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your name being called and you looked up, still holding the empty milkshake container.

“Yes?”

“Your boyfriend is here with the Captain America,” Tara winked at you, “Is he single?”

“Sam?”

“No Y/N, I’m trying to steal your man but letting you know beforehand. Yes, Sam!”

“Um—“ you tried to pull your thoughts together, “I’m not sure, I can ask.”

“Don’t make it obvious though,” she pointed at you and walked away. You let out a sigh, looking down at the empty container, then fixed your apron and walked out of the kitchen into the main area. You could feel the warmth in your stomach as soon as you saw Bucky and Sam in one of the booths, and you went under the counter to approach them.

“Hi darling.”

“Hey,” you pecked him on the lips and sat beside him, “Hi Sam.”

“Hey Y/N,” he greeted you as Bucky entwined his fingers with yours, “Anyways, as I was saying. I can look into her but unless you give me more information, we’ll hit a dead end.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked between them and Bucky thought for a moment.

“Maybe Sharon might help.”

“I mean she can try—“

“Who are you talking about?” you asked and Sam grinned.

“Bucky’s spy friend.”

“She’s not my friend,” he said almost instantly and your stomach dropped.

“O-oh?”

“I just want to learn who she works for,” he said, “Just in case.”

“In case of what?” you managed to ask and Bucky shifted his weight like he was uncomfortable.

“In case we need it.”

“But why would you need it?”

To that, he looked like he had no answer and Sam cleared his throat, grabbing his phone.

“Well, I’d better talk to Sharon,” he said, standing up from his seat, “To see what we can find. I’ll see you guys later.”

With that, he walked out of the shop and you turned to Bucky, your brows raised.

“So,” you said, “What’s happening?”

“No what you’re thinking right now,” he said quickly, “It’s just… I ran into her. Again.”

You actually wanted to find out how much information he would give you, so you decided to push.

“Oh? I didn’t know you went on a mission.”

“I didn’t, she broke into my house.”

You blinked a couple of times, staring at him as if you were confused. “I’m sorry?”

“I have no idea how she knows where I live, but—“

“She was in your apartment.”

“For like five minutes,” he added, “And she….she told me something.”

If he kept this up, maybe you had a chance to convince him to leave the country for a while by using your cover even if you couldn’t convince him by being yourself.

“What?” you asked him and he paused for a moment, then shook his head.

“It’s not important.”

Fuck.

“It sounds like it is,” you tried again and he cleared his throat.

“Nah it’s just…. Usual secretive spy stuff.”

“But are you safe?” you insisted and he smiled, pressing your hand to his lips, his fingers still entwined with his.

“Of course darling.”

No. No you’re not safe.

You bit inside your cheek, trying to find something, anything to tip him off without blowing your cover but you came up empty except for one thing.

You had to tell him. You had no idea how you would do it, and you had no idea how he would react but you couldn’t—

You couldn’t just sit there and let them take him and blame him for things he quite possibly hadn’t done. Knowing the General, he would pull every trick in the game to convince your superiors that he was dangerous.

And Bucky was one of the very few people you knew who didn’t deserve that.

But how could you do it? You knew it would mean losing him, you were quite sure that he would never trust you again, nor would he ever want to see you again. Not only that, but if the General found out anything about you tipping him off, you would be killed, that was for sure.

As he always said, actions had consequences.

“Don’t look so worried,” he said with a chuckle, snapping you out of your thoughts, “I promise you, everything will be alright.”

For some reason, you were having a hard time believing it but you tried to smile, then leaned in to kiss him.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, “Of course it will.”

***

By the time you were done at work, you were way too tired but it had nothing to do with the goddamn milkshake shop. You half wished you could ask Keith or Chloe about what to do, but you decided you actually needed to come up with a plan before getting them involved.

If you were going to get them involved, you had to make sure they would be safe even if you wouldn’t be, but it didn’t mean the lack of plan at hand wasn’t making you panic. Even the mind blowing sex wasn’t enough to put you to sleep, not when you kept thinking about how it would end soon.

Either way, you were going to lose him.

The thought of it made the tears burn your eyes but you rolled over in bed and looked down at him. He looked so peaceful without nightmares torturing his sleep and you sniffled before leaning in to press your lips into his dark hair, inhaling his scent. He moved a little, letting out a content sigh and you pulled back to grab your dressing gown, then made your way to the kitchen as silently as possible. After grabbing the wine bottle, you went to the bathroom to get in the bathtub, the cold surface against your warm skin giving you goosebumps.

You were being so stupid. Even more stupid than a Victorian lady risking it all for dick.

You cussed under your breath and took a huge swig of the wine, leaning your head back, desperately trying to find an idea to help you get out of this thing unscathed.

Or not to break his heart in the process.

By the time you had finished the bottle, you were still clueless but alcohol was slowly taking away the panic pulsing through you. You kept your eyes on the wall, tracing the rim of the bottle and only when Bucky knocked on the door that you realized he was awake.

Wow, the spy in you would be so disappointed if it were any other time.

“Darling?”

“Hey,” you called out, “You can come in.”

He opened the door and his brows furrowed as soon as he saw you in the bathtub holding a wine bottle.

“Hey,” he said, “Everything alright?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, then nodded and looked up at him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said and approached you to crouch down, “Nightmares?”

“Something like that,” you mumbled, still holding the bottle tight, “What time is it?”

“3 a.m.”

You heaved a sigh and he reached out to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked softly and that made the burning in your eyes even worse, but you cleared your throat and shook your head.

“Did you know….” You trailed off, waving the empty bottle, “In some cultures people drink at funerals?”

“Nope,” he said, “I didn’t. Whose funeral is it then?”

“Mine I think.”

He tilted his head, stealing a look at the bottle before smiling at you softly. You were aware that he thought it was just the wine and nightmares speaking, and you were way too tired to let him know, to explain-

To lose whatever it was between you.

“You’re not dead, sweetheart.”

“Not yet,” you managed to say, and he took a deep breath.

“Don’t say that,” he said, his voice low as if the thought was too much for him to handle and you let out a bitter chuckle.

“Alright, I won’t.”

“Do you want to come back to bed?”

You shook your head, wiping at your eyes.

“Okay,” Bucky said, “Is it okay if I stay here then?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, turning the bottle in your hands. His fingers caressed over your hair and the action was so soothing that for a moment you felt yourself getting lost in the feeling before you turned your head to look into his blue eyes.

“Do you think that—“ you paused for a moment, “Do you think we could have a happy ending?”

“A happy ending?” he repeated, confusion flashing over his features and you licked your lips.

“Yeah, do you think….Do you think we could have that house with the red door and the big garden and the treehouse?”

A gentle smile curled his lips and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “Absolutely. And if I’m remembering it correctly, I was told there would be a hammock between an apple tree and a peach tree.”

“And a dog.”

“And a dog,” he repeated, “And kids.”

You could swear your heart hurt.

“I’m going to tell you something but you’re not allowed to say it back,” you said, “Not…not yet anyway. Not right now.”

He tilted his head, “Okay. What is it?”

“…I think I’m in love with you,” you admitted, your heart beating like crazy as you wiped your eyes again. A light crossed his eyes but you couldn’t even decipher what it was, instead you reached out to hold his hand, leaning your head back again.

“Why am I not allowed to say it back?” he asked and a painful smile pulled at your lips.

“Just because,” you said, “And I’m—I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked and you opened your mouth, then the fear crashed down on you so you just shrugged your shoulders.

“Can we stay like this for tonight?”

He thought for a moment, then leaned in to press a kiss on your temple.

“Of course darling,” he said, “If that’s what you want, let’s stay like this.”

***

The next morning, you woke up with a clear decision in mind.

You had to tell Bucky and you had to get him out of the country before the General could lay a hand on him. You even had a speech in mind, but in the morning Bucky had an appointment with his psychiatrist so he had left early. You didn’t have much time anyway, you had to go to the base as well but it didn’t mean you were as calm as you would like to be.

You had to make sure not to make the General suspicious of you until Bucky was out but unfortunately, you hadn’t thought about your best friends.

Keith took one look at you when he saw you, then checked whether anyone was watching you before he placed his coffee cup on the desk and grabbed your wrist to pull you into the hallway.

“What happened?”

You crossed your arms and shrugged. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Something happened,” he said, “Tell me and I’ll help you fix it.”

“Keith-“

“Y/N, I know you better than you think I do,” he said through his teeth, “Is your cover blown? Is Barnes suspicious of something?”

You clenched your jaw, then shook your head.

“Then what is it?” he said, “Chloe says the mission will be over soon and you’ll probably become a handler, I thought you’d be—“

“That’s the problem,” you interrupted him, “The mission will be over soon.”

Keith shrugged, “Okay. So? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Apparently not.”

He pulled his brows together, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe Bucky doesn’t deserve to be dragged here and have shit pinned on him. Again.”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds before a look of realization crossed his eyes and he ran a hand over his face.

“You’re not serious.”

“Keith—“

“That guy’s dick game can’t be that good. If you’re willing to put your life in danger just because he’s good at sex, I promise you there are a bunch of people who can fu—“

“It’s not because of that.”

“Oh it’s not? Then what is this about?”

“It’s not about anything, I’m just saying he doesn’t deserve it.”

“Y/N, if the General finds out you’ve gone soft—“

“I haven’t gone soft!”

“You know what happens to the spies who fall for their targets,” he whispered through his teeth, “No matter how much you want to—to put this behind you, to run away with him—“

“I’m not naïve,” you spat, “I know I’d never be able to run away. This is not a fairytale, I’m not going to walk off into the sunset with Bucky. He will never forgive me or want to be with me once he learns who I am.”

“Then?”

“It doesn’t mean he deserves this,” you said, “He tries to help people, and we will make people see him as dangerous.”

He shook his head, heaving a sigh.

“He’s a good person, Keith,” you said, “Unlike you and me, he’s a good person.”

“Y/N?”

You turned your head when you heard the General’s assistant calling out your name.

“Yes?”

“He’s ready for you.”

“Thanks,” you said and took a step but Keith grabbed you by the arm.

“Don’t tell him anything,” he whispered, “We’ll—we’ll figure something out, okay? Trust me, just don’t tell the General anything.”

You bit inside your cheek and nodded.

“We can talk about it later,” you said and walked to the General’s office. He was waiting for you behind his desk and looked up from the file when he heard you come in.

“Y/N,” he said, “Hello.”

“Sir,” you greeted him and sat down on the edge of the seat. “Hello.”

“I’ve been looking over your file,” he said, a small smile appearing on his lips, “And I gotta tell you, it’s….it’s very impressive.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Of all the missions we’ve put you on…” he said, “You haven’t failed. Ever.”

You felt like throwing up, but managed to smile back.

“You’ve taught me well.”

He let out a chuckle. “I’d like to take all the credit, but you and I both know it wasn’t just me, Y/N. You have a talent.”

Talent for killing and using people.

“Your father would be proud of you.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, that familiar ache at your heart making you sit up straighter.

“Growing up without him was very difficult for you,” he said, “I know that. I tried to help as much as I could and trust me, you’re like a daughter to me but I also know that deep down you waited for him to come back. Always.”

You rolled your shoulders back, trying to keep your head high.

“I’m not waiting for him to come back.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not. He left me.”

He heaved a sigh and leaned in, his eyes locked into yours.

“I’m sorry you have to find out this way but your father didn’t leave you,” he said, making you frown. “The Winter Soldier killed him.”

Chapter 21

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #tfatws!bucky

544 notes · View notes

bbangsoonie · 3 years

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goal: your heart

member: sunwoo genre: fluff word count: 5,423 synopsis: due to a budget cut, you have to follow the soccer team around for both the school newspaper and yearbook despite knowing nothing about sports. before you know it, you find yourself warming up to the team’s star player, who you swore was the most annoying and arrogant person ever.

a/n: this is a part of the star player collab with @atbzkingdom for sunwoo’s birthday! (also, this will be written with the american academic calander in mind)

You knew exactly what you were doing. You were the top student of both your class and school and the leader of many clubs. Your college application was full of achievements and your essay exquisitely written. The only problem? You had no idea what to do after graduation. You didn’t know where you wanted to go or what you wanted to study.

Growing up, everyone told you that you’d eventually find something you love. By senior year, you thought you would at least have an idea by now.

But nope, you were even more lost if anything. Dream job? That was just a capitalistic lie meant to make people happy to slave away for money.

Grumbling, you listened as your friends rambled on about the campuses they visited. It was only the first day back and everyone was already obsessing over one thing and one thing only.

“Y/n, you’re so lucky,” Juyeon pouted. “You don’t have to worry about getting into a university. Your stats are literally perfect.”

“I have other things to stress over,” you groaned. “At least you know what you wanna pursue.”

“Y/n has other things to worry about. She’s about to graduate without ever finding love,” Younghoon teased.

“It’s all our fault,” Jaehyun squinted as he pinched his nose bridge. “We raised her standards too high. I’m sorry, Y/n, that I can’t take responsibility.”

The notebook in your hand threatened to fly over to his seat. Luckily for him, he was saved by Juyeon’s very unnatural attempt at changing the subject. He inquired about the school newspaper that was barely spared in a major budget cut last year.

Thinking about it made you sigh. You had poured in so much effort over the years for the paper and it was almost taken from you. The school was cutting funds for a lot of clubs and diverting the money to the many sports teams that brought home trophies.

A part of the negotiations to save the newspaper club was to feature more sports events and student athletes in order to garner support for the teams. You weren’t pleased with the decision. Your plate was already full without trying to inflate the ego of players who had a god superiority complex. Jaehyun was a great example of the type of jock you didn’t want to raise on a high pedestal.

You had also promised Kevin, the president of the yearbook committee, to help out with photographing games since you had to attend them anyway. Despite the many tasks assigned to you, you were relieved that you could spend your last year continuing to write articles.

“Does that mean you’ll get to come to practice with us? The basketball team is always on my ass about introducing them to you. Now I can finally stop being pestered to be the middleman,” Jaehyun grinned.

“No shot,” Younghoon shook his head. “My swim team has already tried but Y/n puts up a cold front.”

“Hey, I’m a delicately guarded rose with sharp thorns,” you joked, making Jaehyun pretend to gag. This time, the notebook hit his arm.

“No one is good enough for our Y/n,” Juyeon defended. You turned around to coo at him and said something about him being the only nice one as Younghoon guffawed.

The first day of soccer practice meant you had to stay behind after dismissal to meet the team. The coach introduced you to the players and beamed when he got to the last one.

“This is our ace, Sunwoo. Although I’m sure you know that already,” he said proudly.

To be honest, you had no idea who he was. The school was too big to know everyone and you had absolutely no interest in sports. You rarely even went to Juyeon and Jaehyun’s basketball games and Younghoon’s swim meets.

Not wanting to offend anyone, you simply smiled. Sunwoo, catching your hesitance, raised a brow. However, he kept quiet until he approached you during one of his breaks.

“Do you really not know me?” he asked as he took a seat next to you on the bleachers.

Surprised by his sudden question, you blankly stared at the boy in front of you. Sweat was dripping from his hair but he paid it no attention as he chugged an entire water bottle.

“How cocky are you?” you scoffed.

“You really don’t know our soccer team’s star player, Kim Sunwoo?” he gaped.

“Sorry to disappoint but I really don’t care or know much about soccer. Or any other sports for that matter,” you shrugged.

“You’re going to write about the soccer team… when you don’t even know who we are or what we’re doing?” he asked incredulously.

“That’s why I’m here to observe,” you snapped back.

Finding you amusing, he finally wiped away his sweat as the coach blew his whistle to gather the players again.

Sunwoo always gave it his best but for some reason he found himself practicing extra hard that day. Knowing your eyes were on him motivated him to show off his skills by annoying his teammates and stealing the spotlight. After his third goal in a row, he looked at you to see your reaction but was baffled to see you busy writing something down.

Frustrated and peeved, he kicked at the grass with a huff.

When practice came to an end, he snuck up behind you to see what you were so intently focused on. Reading the notes on your notebook, he hummed.

“So that’s what you were doing instead of watching me,” he mused.

You were listing physical traits and personality attributes of each player. He scanned the paper for his name and frowned when he saw what you wrote about him.

“Arrogant and conceited? That’s all you have to say about me?” he whined.

“What? It’s true,” you deadpanned.

“Haknyeon gets “tall, bubbly, and extroverted” but I get “arrogant and conceited”? That’s not fair. This is biased journalism!” he exclaimed.

Realizing that practice was over, you gathered your belongings and stood up to leave. With his cheeks puffed, he watched as you left the field. You were unlike any person he had ever encountered.

“Sunwoo? Kim Sunwoo?” Younghoon repeated with his eyes wide. “The soccer caption Kim Sunwoo?”

Jaehyun and Juyeon’s chopsticks froze midair in shock. Finding their reactions odd, you nodded as you took another bite of your lunch.

“I can’t believe the lady killer got rejected by the man hater,” Jaehyun broke out into a fit of laughter.

“Now that’s a title I’d like to see on the school newspaper,” Younghoon snickered.

“Okay, first of all, I did not reject him because he did not come on to me,” you rolled your eyes. “Secondly, who the hell is he anyway? Why do you all know him?”

“He’s notorious for his fuckboy image. Although I think that’s an exaggerated reputation,” Juyeon said you picked out all the vegetables from your plate. He willingly moved them to his own and you smiled gratefully in response.

“So my first impression of him was correct,” you said.

“He’s not that bad. He’s actually pretty cool. Rumors don’t do the sweet guy justice,” Juyeon explained.

“Our lovely Juyeon sees the good in everyone,” Younghoon gushed as he pet his friend, earning him a smack on the back of his head.

“We were partners for a history project,” Juyeon clarified. “I got to know him a bit and he’s a good guy. Just enjoys attention a little too much. Like Jaehyun.”

Weirdly offended, Jaehyun scowled. You shrugged it off, returning your attention back to your food. You had no intentions of getting to know Sunwoo anyway. At least, that was the plan until he bombarded you in the hallway while you were walking to class.

He blocked your path with that irritating smirk on his face. Exasperated, you asked him what he wanted.

“So I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” he started.

“Oh, so you do think?”

“Hey!”

“Do you think you can move and get out of my way?”

“Anyway, as the president of the newspaper club who’s in charge of covering the soccer team, I think you lack way too much information about the sport. And our school’s players.”

“How do you know I’m the president?”

“I asked around.”

You look at his eyes, trying to peer through any ulterior motives. He was being suspiciously generous. But he wasn’t entirely wrong. Even you thought it was ridiculous that a person who didn’t know a thing about soccer had to write articles about it.

You were also aware that any interviews with the athletes would be surface level stuff that all the students probably already knew. You were the only one out of the loop.

You pursed your lips, annoyed that he was right. Realizing that you were in agreeance, Sunwoo grinned.

“I am offering you the very special privilege to follow me around and learn everything there is to know about the team. For the paper of course,” he quickly added the last part after seeing the look on your face. “I can teach you about both soccer and my teammates.”

After pondering his proposal, you finally nodded.

“Deal,” you eyed his happy expression. “What do you want in return?”

He was taken aback by your question. He hadn’t expected you to assume that he would demand compensation. Your presence and attention were what he was after in the first place. However, he couldn’t let the opportunity pass by.

“Bubble tea,” he declared after some thought. “You can treat me to bubble tea after practice and I can tutor you then.”

“Fine,” you sighed before pushing him aside to make it to class before the bell rang. He was left behind with a stupid smile on his face.

The first tutoring session was extremely awkward for you. You weren’t used to hanging out with guys other than Juyeon, Younghoon, and Jaehyun. They were the only members of the male species you didn’t despise. This riled up Sunwoo’s competitive side. He was determined to get close to you.

He couldn’t stand having someone not like him. He was used to being on friendly terms with everyone—including teachers and even wallflowers. He had a strong desire to receive acknowledgement from everyone.

Perhaps that was why so many girls fell for him.

Nevertheless, the wall around you remained thick and high. Just as he was well known for his playboy persona, you were infamous for never letting guys in. You cold heartedly turned down any and every guy who asked you out. And there had been a lot.

Sunwoo, on the other hand, was excited to spend time with you. Bubble tea was just an excuse to meet you outside of school grounds.

His phone dinged, notifying him of a text. Haknyeon had sent him a screenshot of a post made on the school’s gossip page and wrote “this you?”. He snorted at the content speculating his relationship status after supposedly receiving another confession and rolled his eyes. Curious, you asked him what he was looking at.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” he shook his head as he put the device away. “Just the stupid tea account.”

“Oh you mean that anonymously run social media page that popped up over summer break?” you frowned.

You hated everything about it. It spread rumors, without fact-checking, and started drama. It resulted in both a breakup and the end of a friendship in the span of two months. It was exactly what you and the school newspaper stood against.

Nothing could be done to stop the false information and invasion of privacy because it wasn’t officially affiliated with the school and the students continued to feed into it. People even sent in stories to be posted.

“So tell me what you do know about soccer,” he leaned in and propped his chin on the palms of his hands.

“I know the very basics from catching glimpses of the World Cup,” you leaned back on your chair, making him pout.

“Well, to be honest, explaining the rules is a lot easier to do when directly pointing things out during a game. There’s a match airing tonight. Do you want to come over and watch it with me?” he asked expectantly.

“We can watch the replay tomorrow during study hall,” you said.

“Then we can start by talking about me today,” he chirped. “My squad number is 19 because 9 is usually worn by centre forwards but I wanted to be special and added a 1 in front of it. I’m the centre forward, which is the main striker. That means playing offensive is my main objective. Which is why I’m the highest scorer on the team.”

You wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. It irked you how he so easily bragged about himself.

“I also really like movies and can play the guitar. A true all-rounder and romanticist,” he smiled.

He continued to reveal fun facts about himself for another half an hour. It was only at the end that you realized most of it was useless when writing for the paper. You groaned, realizing you had fallen for his trap.

Still, you learned some things about soccer and his position in the team. Following him to the cafe hadn’t been a complete waste of your time.

The next day, Sunwoo hunted you down to make sure you kept your promise about watching the game together. He dragged you to the computer room during study hall and pulled out the earbuds he prepared. He had purposely rummaged through his drawers the night before to the share wired ones with you.

You had to admit he was extremely helpful when explaining the rules and strategies of soccer. Despite being uncomfortable with the proximity of his body to yours, he was a great teacher. He made everything sound so simple. After you began to understand the game, you even found yourself enjoying the match.

After spending a week with him, you hated that you couldn’t say you still disliked him. After all, you two met almost every day for hours.

You had a gut feeling that you would come to regret it and were proven right. You had a bad feeling the moment you saw Jaehyun run up to you as if his life depended on it. Panting, he barely pulled himself together to show you the post that made him immediately report to you.

“KSW and Y/INITIALS seen cozily spending time together. Will he be the one to finally break through her?” you read aloud.

A photo of your backs from the computer room and a mosaicked side shot of you two at the cafe were attached to the title. The comments under the post were even more ridiculous.

“A challenge to be anticipated.”

“Poor girl will only end up as one of his many heartbroken playthings.”

“I know who KSW is. Who’s Y/INITIALS??”

“The legendary man hater? With a guy?? Wow how good must he be 👀”

“Damn so she rejected me for him?”

Your blood boiled and you shoved the phone away. Trying to calm yourself down, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. And failed.

“What is this, fucking Dispatch?” you exploded. A few students passing by stared at your outburst and widened their eyes when they saw that it was you. You sighed, knowing that the whole school saw the post.

“I’m not a celebrity! Why are people so invested in fake rumors about me?” you yelled, trying to keep your voice to a whisper as you pulled Jaehyun into an empty classroom.

“I’m sure it’ll blow over,” he assured.

“If I ever find out who the admin of this page is, I will ruin them,” you glowered.

You almost didn’t go to the soccer practice that day. But you knew that avoiding him would only add fuel to the fire so you sucked it up and went to the field after school as usual. You heard the hushed murmurs that stirred among the team when you arrived and you wanted to turn back around and leave.

Before you could, however, Sunwoo appeared and shut everyone up with a warning glare. He announced that the coach would be late and to start by running laps.

You were more annoyed than upset about the post. It just stupefied you that people really had nothing better to do than gossip about you. You didn’t think you were that interesting.

You were so close to escaping after practice but Sunwoo caught you trying to sneak away. He stood in front of you, crossing his arms as if to ask where you were going. Giving up, you muttered a “fine” and waited for him to change out of his uniform.

This time, you two wordlessly agreed to go to a different cafe. With the bubble teas on the table in front of you, you sat in silence until Sunwoo finally spoke up.

“Don’t mind what the post or others say,” he huffed.

“I’m not too bothered by it,” you shrugged.

“Good. Because I want to get to know you as just Y/n and Sunwoo. Through whatever you wish to tell and show me. I feel like we’re always just talking about me.”

His words left you speechless. Juyeon hadn’t been kidding when he mentioned how thoughtful Sunwoo was. You felt your heart warm as you smiled.

“Well what do you want to know about me?” you asked.

“Anything. Everything.”

So you spilled about your interests, hobbies, and goals. It was strange. Although it hadn’t been long since you met him, you felt comfortable around him. He made you feel at ease and you didn’t think twice about opening up to him.

You told him about your struggles as a high achieving student. About the pressure you felt and how embarrassing it was to tell people that you didn’t have any dreams.

With your grades, all the teachers expected you to apply to medical school. On the other hand, your parents encouraged you to work towards a high paying and stable salary as a corporation employee. Your friends suggested that you go for something in journalism because of your passion and commitment to the school newspaper.

But the club was just something you did for fun. You didn’t know if you liked it enough to pursue it as a career.

Sunwoo listened attentively as you went on about your concerns. From the outside, you looked like you had your life together. You were the perfect student and the girl that many guys chased after. But as he spent more time with you, it became clear that you were very uncomfortable with boys.

“Can I ask how you got so close with the Bermuda line?” he asked.

“The Bermuda line? What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of the term? Juyeon, Jaehyun, and Younghoon are called the Bermuda line because they’re the most popular athletes out of all the sports teams. The girls say that once you fall for them, you’re stuck in between them forever because you can’t get out.”

You hadn’t laughed that hard in so long. You knew they had fans but found it hilarious how the trio even had a nickname.

“Oh man, I can’t wait to make fun of them for this,” you laughed, nearly in tears.

When he told you that they actually took great pride in the title, you bursted out in laughter again. Their self love truly was on another level.

“So how’d you end up friends?” he asked again.

“Juyeon, I’ve known since middle school. We were in the same class for all three years. Jaehyun didn’t go to the same school as us but he was friends with Juyeon because they played basketball together. I met him and Younghoon at the end of freshman year. They kinda crash landed into my life but we really clicked so that’s why I still bless them with my friendship.”

Sunwoo giggled at your own overwhelming confidence. He loved that you never sold yourself short. He didn’t notice he had been staring at you until you pointed it out. Blushing, he insisted that it was nothing and took another sip of his bubble tea.

Two months passed by and you eventually came to call Sunwoo a friend. Younghoon teased you about him being more than a friend and at first, you thought he was crazy. But with him planting the idea in your head, you began to question your own feelings. Cursing Younghoon, you blamed him for confusing you.

As the designated photographer, you tagged along to the soccer team’s last match. The entire team was nervous as it would determine the winner of the tournament. Even Sunwoo was anxious.

Before the game started, you offered him a supportive smile and he felt all worries lifted off his shoulders. He erased all thoughts of winning and losing and just concentrated on the ball. He wanted to enjoy the last match of the season and look cool in front of you. That was all that mattered to him.

Fortunately, he got both plus the win. The crowd erupted into cheers as he scored the winning goal just seconds before the whistle was blown to signal the end of the game. His knees fell to the ground and his teammates rushed to surround him.

Seeing how happy he looked brought a smile to your lips. He jumped up and scanned the bleachers for your face. When he finally spotted you, he broke away from his team to run up to you and embrace you in a giant hug.

Caught off guard, you froze as his teammates hooted and applauded. You felt your cheeks heat up at the attention.

“Congratulations,” you chuckled, patting his back. “You did well.”

“Did you get a lot of pretty pictures of me?” he grinned, pulling away to look at you.

“No, I only took pictures of Haknyeon,” you joked. By now, he was used to your teasing and simply ruffled your hair in response.

“There’s gonna be an after party tonight,” he brought up carefully. “I’d really like it if you came. Only if you’re okay with that type of scene though.”

Surprised, you nodded before you fully thought it through.

That was how you ended up moping at Jaehyun’s house. The invitation was extended to the Bermuda line as well and they were all planning on dragging you there. Younghoon was excited at the thought of finally going to a party with the whole group and Juyeon was picking out an outfit for you from Jaehyun’s sister’s closet.

“I don’t know if I trust your fashion sense,” she made a face at the top he held up.

This was your first party and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. There was a reason you hadn’t gone to one throughout your high school years.

Nonetheless, you were dressed up in an outfit that definitely reflected Jaehyun’s sister’s style more than yours. She fawned over how pretty you were and urged you to go with the boys.

So you walked through the doors and into the house vibrating with music. Everyone who recognized you was shocked to see you there. Feeling awkward, you stuck by Jaehyun’s side as you maneuvered around the throng of people. When he finally caught sight of Sunwoo, he dipped and left you alone with him.

“Thanks for coming,” he shouted over the loud music.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you shouted back.

Sunwoo offered you a drink, which you declined. Following your choice, he opted for a soda instead as well. You weren’t much of a dancer so you enjoyed people watching instead. It was fascinating to see your classmates have so much fun.

You giggled when you saw Juyeon be so painfully oblivious to a girl’s advances and walked away to dance with Younghoon. Meanwhile, Jaehyun was having the time of his life flirting with girls. You blocked your eyesight when you saw him leaning in to kiss one of them.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringed. “I do not need to know this side of my best friend’s love life.”

Laughing, Sunwoo offered to take you outside for some fresh air and a change of scenery. You gladly agreed and let him guide you to the backyard.

The night sky was full of tranquility that contrasted the chaos that ensued indoors. You sat on the grass and Sunwoo joined next to you.

“You look beautiful today,” he commented.

“Only today?” you laughed.

“Especially today,” he answered in a serious manner. His sincerity made you clear your throat and look away. He stunned you by cupping your face with his hands.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Are you drunk?” you blinked.

“I haven’t had a single sip of alcohol.”

His voice was slow and raspy. Your heart was beating faster than you wanted it to and you knew the corners of your lips were betraying you.

“You can either lean in or pull away,” he said as he brought his lips closer to yours.

Your heart now felt like it was about to jump out of your chest. Red alarms were going off in your head and you didn’t know what to do. All you knew was what you were only a few centimeters away from kissing Sunwoo.

So you did what any insane person would do and closed the gap between your lips. You wanted to punch him when you felt him smirk but he pulled you closer and held onto you tightly.

The weekend passed without much changes in your relationship with Sunwoo. You were worried that you had either ruined your friendship or that he was sick of you but Juyeon reassured you that he probably wanted to talk about it in person. Anxiously, you overthought things until Monday finally arrived.

Wanting to keep yourself busy until you met Sunwoo, you stopped by the club room early in the morning to import the photos from the last game. Shortly after you connected the camera to the computer, you heard a knock on the door.

Startled, you looked at the door and saw Jacob sheepishly poking his head through the door. You told him to come in and he took a seat next to you.

“Kevin told me to drop by before class for an interview,” he said. You nearly facepalmed. You had completely forgotten about that. You were supposed to interview him for the paper.

“Oh yeah! Hold on, let me go get my notebook,” you searched through your backpack to find it.

The volleyball player was this month’s star of the month and you had to write a piece on his past achievements. He was extremely kind and was careful not to use any advanced sports terminology to make sure anyone could easily read the interview, which you were grateful for.

Before you parted, he gave you a side hug out of habit and apologized when he realized that it was only his first time meeting you. You laughed it off and insisted that now you could be friends since you two hugged already. Relieved that you weren’t disturbed, he happily waved goodbye to you as he walked away.

Being in a different class than Sunwoo meant that you had to wait until lunch period to see him. You honestly didn’t even know if you wanted to see him. You weren’t ready to face him yet.

When the bell finally rang and it was time for lunch, Juyeon forced you to go to the cafeteria instead of hiding out in an empty classroom. The moment you sat down with your tray, however, you felt all eyes on you. Your stomach dropped, knowing it couldn’t be good news.

“Y/n, is this true..?” Jaehyun asked, showing you the new post on the gossip page. You hated that you were always right about bad intuitions.

KSW and Y/INITIALS caught making out at last night’s party… is BJY a side hoe?

You had no idea when a photo was taken in the brief second you and Jacob hugged that morning. When you scrolled and saw the next part, your heart dropped.

A shocking revelation of history: Y/INITIALS and SYJ used to date in freshman year. Does this have anything to do with the swimmer and basketball players always next to her?

You felt your breath caught in your throat as you read through the comments.

“Isn’t BJY on the volleyball team and SYJ on the baseball team?”

“Wow she clearly has a type.”

“I guess athletes just hit it well 👀”

“And here I thought KSW was the hoe… who’s playing with who?”

“Aye so KSW finally managed to break through her. Thanks for my $10 bro.”

“Aren’t the basketball players LJY and LJH? And the swimmer KYH? The Bermuda line, right?? I always thought she had a thing with one of them.”

“So much for the icy Y/INITIALS. She was acting all pretentious when she was already having all her fun.”

Juyeon grabbed the phone out of your hands and glared at Jaehyun. You never thought your past relationship would ever get exposed. There were only a handful of people who knew about it and it had stayed hidden under the rug up until now. It was something you wanted to bury and never think about ever again.

Shakily, you got up and ran out of the cafeteria with Younghoon calling out after you. You ran as fast as you could. You didn’t stop until you busted through the doors and collapsed on the rooftop. Your lungs were on fire and you closed your eyes to stop the ringing in your ears.

Meanwhile, Sunwoo was running across the school to find you. When he didn’t see you in the club room, he changed his target and sought out Eric.

“Is it true?” he demanded when he finally saw his friend.

“I can’t believe people already figured out that it’s me,” Eric sighed.

“Is it true?” Sunwoo repeated.

“Yes, yes, it’s true,” he answered with his hands up in defeat. “She never wanted anyone to find out. We didn’t exactly end on good terms. It’s something I’m not proud of.”

“What happened?” he asked, trying to contain his anger. “What did you do to her?”

“I…” Eric trailed off. “I cheated on her.”

“What the hell, Eric?” Sunwoo yelled.

“I-I was stupid! And young. It’s the biggest mistake I made in my life,” he admitted.

Frustrated, Sunwoo left and ran off in search of you again. When you weren’t anywhere to be found, he checked the rooftop as a last resort. He didn’t expect to actually see you there.

“Y/n,” he breathed. You felt a lump form in your throat. It was the first time he had addressed you by your name.

“Get away from me,” you glared. “Was I nothing but a bet to you? Was I just a challenge for you to win?”

“Y/n, I never placed bets on you. I don’t know what other people have been betting on but I have always been genuine with you,” he affirmed.

You refused to let your tears fall. There was no way Kim Sunwoo was going to see you cry.

“I like you,” he confessed. “I like you a lot. I meant to say this that night but got too flustered. So I wanted to tell you today. Whenever I see you, the butterflies in my stomach won’t go away. When I don’t see you, I miss you like crazy. You inspire me to become a better person and all I want to do is hold you and call you mine.”

And now Kim Sunwoo has officially seen you cry. He bent down to wrap his arms around you as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“You’re an asshole,” you mumbled after you calmed down.

“I think you mean the opposite,” he chuckled. “Whatever barriers you put up to protect yourself, I’m going to take them down one by one. With you. Together.”

“Who said I’m helping?” you muttered.

“Then I guess I have to work twice as hard to prove myself,” he softly smiled.

“This is embarrassing,” you groaned.

“This will only be embarrassing for me if you reject me,” his hand reached out to the nape of his neck. “So what do you say? Will you go out with me?”

“I’ll think about it,” you huffed, prompting a chuckle from him.

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bjornswoman · 3 years

Text

Zinnia

Requested by none.

Author's note: Hey guys! I hadn't post for a while because I wasn't creative. These past days I lack from creativity a lot, so I hope you will like this. Thank you for your support. Till the next time, have fun and take care.

Pairing: Modern!Bjorn x Reader.

Genre: Modern!au, romance, drama, angst, smut.

Summary: You and Bjorn are friends but that's not the only thing he is for you.

Warnings: Smut, jealousy, strong language.

"So, tell me. How does it feel like to be the son of two of the most powerful people in the world?" The blonde chic asked Bjorn and he chuckled. The brunette on the the other side of him were looking at him the same way as her stupid friend. You, on the other hand, rolled your eyes at her stupidity. You took your glass and sipped the liquid it contained.

Why did women have to be so stupid sometimes? Some of you embarrassed the reast who were normal and not on your knees for a man.

They thought that being the son of Ragnar and Lagertha was easy because he had a really comfortable and easy life but it wasn't just like that. His life wasn't just money, fancy parties, expensive stuff from brand names. Bjorn was holding heavy weight on his shoulders. Being the son of these people meant that the others werw expecting from him to be equal or even greater than them. He had to prove that he wasn't just having a name but was creating his own reputation apart from the one that followed their parents' names.

Lagertha and Ragnar started from a little farm in nowhere and after all these years they ended up conquering the world. They made money and reputation all by themselves. Bjorn couldn't be just their son. He had to build his own name and a great legacy after it.

You could understand how it felt to be their child. Your father had his own reputation. He wasn't Ragnar Lothbrok, but he was Floki the Boatbuilder. He, Ragnar, Lagertha and some friends of them started all these by themselves. You had to prove that you were yourself, not just Floki's daughter as Bjorn wasn't just Ragnar's son.

The name he carried was heavy and great, he had to be worthy to prove that he wasn't just that name. He was Bjorn Ironside Lothbrok not Bjorn Lothbrok son of Ragnar Lothbrok. They gave him the name Ironside for some reason.

"It feels like—" Bjorn paused for a moment thinking about the suitable word to express how it was to be himself.

You placed your empty glass on the counter and motioned to the barman to pour you another one. After that you turned to the three of them.

"It feels like heavy weight on his shoulders I'd say." You spoke and sipped from your new drink.

The women who were next to him didn't evwn pay attention to what you had said, but little did you cared. You didn't care at all about them to bw honest. They were just the women of his night. In fact, not even the women of the night. The night had just started and you were aware that he would find a lot of women to please. That was what Bjorn wanted from women. He wanted to lay with them once and nothing more. Maybe they didn't approach him for only this. They craved fame and recognition, invitations to fancy parties, money and stuff, but Bjorn didn't want nothing serious.

Bjorn seemed amused by your answer. He downed his own drink and ordered another.

"That's an interesting and really intriguing answer. Care to speak about it more, zin?" Bjorn spoke to you smirking.

You rolled your eyes again at the nickname and his smirk grew wider.

This nickname was found by him when you were kids. You were best friends with Bjorn and Gyda, his late sister. As children, you used to play at your mother's garden. Her favorite flowers were zinnias and chrysanthemums, so they were planted all over the garden. You used to sat on a bench next to zinnias. You were telling him how much you liked them, so he found that nickname. Zin as zinnias, the flowers.

Zinnias were you code word too. When you were sad all you had to tell him was this word and he knew that it was the time for him to stop joking.

It was normal to you to fall for him. He was always tough, muscular, rich, funny, kind, grumpy, sweet —when he wasn't grumpy— and ridiculously handsome. But you realized that late. You knew you were in love with him in high-school. He was the guy all the girls wanted to lay with. Bjorn had laid almost with all of them. That hurt your feelings, but you knew that he was like that. He didn't want anything serious back then too. You used to get yourself in trouble all the time and Bjorn managed to get you out of it every time as the tough and muscular guy he had always been. The guys who were hitting on you, trying to sleep with you and you were ditching them not in the polite way didn't dare to mess with you because they knew they would be dead by him.

Bjorn would never let anyone touch you like that.

Anyways, you didn't use this as a code word anymore. Bjorn was the one who used it as a nickname for you and you kept telling him not to call you zin.

"Don't call me that." You grumbled. "Being their son means lots of duties. You have to prove that you are not just a spoiled brat but a man worthy of the name he carries. You have to work to be great just like them." You said and sipped again from the glass you were still holding.

The brunette next to Bjorn rolled her eyes and put her hand on his chest.

"You didn't answer the question." She spoke and you were the one to roll your eyes this time.

These women were really stupid. You couldn't even looking at them. They were made you feel angry and dizzy at the same time.

The blonde one threw the hand of her friemd away from Bjorn's chest and put her own. She didn't just to put it to be honest, she started caressing his chest above the black shirt he wore.

This move was something you didn't like. You didn't like women touching him like that. They could have sex but not that. You didn't like when they tried to be something more than that.

You hated the idea of someone being more than that for him.

And that someone wasn't you.

If it was someone, you would try to accept it. You wouldn't like it, but you would try. If there was, you would move on.

After your answer Bjorn wasn't like before. He wasn't even paying attention to the girls, like he had forgotten that they were there. His blue eyes were fixed on your figure and his mind was replaying your answer. Those words were the exact words he believed. He felt exactly the same way as you did.

"Hey Bjorn!" Exclaimed the blonde one and he lookes at her forming a smirk on his lips. "What about my question?" She asked him in a certain way that made you roll your eyes again.

"Yes, your question." He said smiling.

Bjorn was about to give an answer, a really stupid answer, but someone's voice stopped him and it wasn't yours. It was Rollo's. His father's brother. His uncle.

"Bjorn!" You smiled and hit him at the back of his neck. Bjorn stood up and greeted his uncle the way they always did. Rollo's left Bjorn and fell on the chics and then on you. He smirked and turned to his nephew. "And who the ladies might be?" He askes referring to the stupid women who were sitting with Bjorn previously.

The names was something that Bjorn could never recall. This time wasn't different. He didn't remember the names of those two women he was speaking with the last forty minutes.

"I am Natalie and that's Sonia." The brunette spoke to him and his smirk grew wider. You rolled your eyes again and turned all of your attention to your drink.

Rollo wasn't a person that you liked. He had something that was strange. His vibe was strange. You thought him untrustworthy after he betrayed Ragnar and teamed up with that Borg guy. You had told Bjorn too, but he made sure to tell you that Rollo was fine which you didn't think so. Your father didn't like Rollo too. When Floki was talking about him, he was calling him traitor and he wasn't wrong.

The girls seemed to be more interesting to Rollo than to Bjorn after they met him. Of course, they stuck with whoever have greater reputation. If Ragnar was there, they would be right next to him.

They were still talking, but you didn't care about what they were saying until you heard Rollo talking to you. You didn't want to answer, but you knew better than ignore him. Bjorn would be mad at you if you ignored the traitor. He wouldn't talk to you and he would be grumpy. When Bjorn was grumpy, he was unbearable.

"Aye, (Y/N)!" Rollo exclaimed and you turned to look at them. You forced a smile on your face. "You look lovely as always." He brandished you and you tried really hard not to roll your eyes again. You tried not to look like you didn't likw him but that wasn't really easy.

"Thank you, Rollo." You said back and downed the liquid in your glass. You motioned to barman to pour you another one.

After some more talking with Bjorn, Rollo took the girls and left Bjorn and yourself alone. As alone you could be inside a bar. Bjorn sat down on a stool next to the one you were sitting and motioned to the guy to pour him one more too.

"You didn't seem pleased when you saw Rollo." Bjorn managed to say.

"You know my opinion about him. It's the same with the one my father has for your uncle." You spoke back and tilted your head to look at him.

"He is not that bad."

"Exactly. He is worse."

"That's not what I meant, (Y/N)."

It was strange to call you by your name. He didn't use it often. He went by zin or pet or brat or something else apart your own name. It sounded better than it was supposed to when it came out of him mouth.

"That's what I meant, Bjorn. That man would do anything for power. He is jealous of his own brother because of that." You said and sipped from your drink. Bjorn followed your movements. He placed his glass on the counter and turnes his head to look at you. His beautiful eyes locked with yours.

"Power is dangerous. It—" You stopped him giggling.

"I know. I know. It attracts the worst and corrupts the best. You have told me that before and I remember me telling you that Ragnar is right." You said giggling and giggled too.

Ragnar was a good man. You admired him. He was right in many things. Your father loved him. He really did. Ragnar was Floki's best friend.

"He is." Bjorn muttered and downed his drink.

"Easy, bear. We don't want you to get drunk." You mocked and you smirked.

"We?" He mocked back and you laughed.

"Yes, we, because I'll be the one who is going to carry you home." You answered him and downes you own drink.

It was his turn to mock you.

"We don't want you drunk either." He pointed out and took the glass of your hands placing it on the counter in front of him. You laughed and narrowed your eyes at him.

"Why not?" You asked him laughing. He was smirking at you all the time.

"Because I'll be the one to carry you." He used you own words to mock you and you laughed again. Only this time, you noticed you were way too close and that made your body burning and you heart beating faster inside your chest.

"Well, I am not a huge bear like you."

You were really close this time. Closer than before. The smirk was fixed on his face. You, on the other hand, stopped laughing. You were just looking at him. You were just inches away from each other. Your eyes left his gaze and looked at his lips. They seemed soft. For a moment you caught yourself thinking about the way they tasted. His eyes was looking at you lips too, but not for long.

Bjorn pulled himself away from you and stood up.

"Come on, zin. Time to go home. We drank enough for tonight." He spoke and you followed him.

You felt kind of disappointed. For a moment you wanted to kiss him. In fact, you expected him to kiss you. Women were speakimg about those kisses of him. The called them unique. He had his way with everything. You wanted to feel his kiss. You wanted to feel Bjorn. But you wouldn't try any move on him you didn't want to destroy everything you had.

You were walking next to him, you were outside the busy bar. It was normal to be busy a night like that. It was Saturday night. Bjorn turned to look at you.

"I am going to get the car. You stay here." He spoke and you nodded staying there as he was walking through the direction he had parked his car.

It was kind of boring to wait for him. You had nothing to do. Until someone spoke to you, or better screamed your name qnd you looked at his direction. It was one of your father's friends, Torstein.

"Oh hey!" You exclaimed as he was coming closer to you.

"Are you here on your own?" He asked you as he didn't notice anyone around you. You smiled at him politely.

"No, I was here with Bjorn but he went to get the car. We are leaving." You explained and his smile grew wider. He was definitely drunk.

"Is Bjorn here?" He asked happily and a small smile formed on your face.

"Yep. In fact, he will be here at a minute or so." You answered looking around for Bjorn or even his car.

"How's Floki?" He asked you and your smile grew wider at the name of your father.

"He's good. Just the way Floki always is." You spoke and he laughed. Before he could say anything Bjorn showed up, standing next to you.

"Just the man I wanted to see!" Torstein said loudly and Bjorn greeted him.

They talked a bit about what they are currently doing and about Ragnar. Then Torstein left and Bjorn turned to you.

"Come." He said and you followed him.

"It was nice to see him." You spoke to Bjorn. He didn't reply. "It's nice to see that my dad has some friends apart from his obsession with Ragnar." You continued, as Bjorn was driving.

"Nobody is a real friend around here, (Y/N)." He finally said and you turned to look at him frowned.

"Ragnar, Floki and Torstein seem to be friends though." You said.

"They are." He replied.

"And Athelstan is a close friend to your father." You pointed out.

"He is. I am not talking about them." He said and stopped at the red light.

"I see." You paused for a moment. You couldn't stay silent. You couldn't resist him. You had been wanting to kiss him since the moment inside the bar. "Is that something your father saying as well?" You asked and he looked at you frowned out of confusion before he started moving again. "I mean this that nobody is a real friend." You said not looking at him.

You wanted to kiss him. You felt embarrassed about that. You couldn't keep yourself.

"Yeah." He answered. You smiled and an idea came into your mind.

"Then—" You pointed and paused for a moment. "Let me think." You said again and cleared your throat. He seemed kind of confused but you didn't mind. "Oh yeah!" You exclaimed excited. "Then, we should not be just friends." You spoke like it was something casual but it wasn't. Your heart was pounding in your chest really loud. You felt nervous and kind of embarrassed, but you had just said it. It couldn't be unsaid.

"What?" He asked surprised and glanced at you for a moment.

"I mean—" You paused and breathed. "You know what I mean." You said and he smirked. You were almost outside your house.

"If you want to have sex with, all you have to do is to tell me." He told smirking and stopped rigjt in front of your house.

His words made you feel really embarrassed. Your cheeks were totally red and you seemed like a strawberry or a tomato.

"Forget whatever I said. See you tom—" You were saying and tried to get out of his car and breathe normal again, but his hand wrapped around your wrist and kept you captured in his car.

You turned your gaze at him. He was still smirking at you. Bjorn pulled you closer to his body. You were as close as you were at the bar.

"Tell me what you want." He told you, looking at your eyes. Your eyes couldn't look him in his own eyes. You were looking at his lips.

You couldn't form a proper word. You wanted him. You wanted him more than anything. You body was burning. It craved his touch. The skin of your wrist that he was holding was burning more than your whole body.

Before he could say anything else you pressed your lips to his. His hands moved on your waist and pulled you closer to him by that part of your body. Your body was on his burning one. His strong body was hotter than yours. You could feel it giving some of his hotness to your own body. Bjorn was a good kisser. The best kisser. This was the best kiss someone had even given to you. You were the one who kissed him, but he was in charge of this kiss. He was bitting your bottom lip and you were moaning each time his teeth trapped your lip even deeper. His tongue invaded in your mouth and started dancing with it.

His hands moved at lower than your lower back. He had trapped your ass with both his hands tightly. You left the passenger seat you had been sitting on and moved on his lap. Your own hands were wrapped around his neck.

His mouth wasn't just kissing and bitting you. It was claiming your mouth by each one of his moves. Your hands left his neck and cupped both of his cheeks.

He didn't want to stop kissing you, but both of you needed to breathe. You pulled away but not away enough. You were just some inches away.

You couldn't stop smiling at him. It was weird to look at him after you kissed him, but he made sure to make you feel comfortable. Bjorn lifted your chin by his hand and made you look at him. He was smiling at you too.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed and blush about it, zin. It was just a kiss." Bjorn told you and the smile left your face. You were disappointed by his answer. You wanted it to be something more. You felt something more. But you knew Bjorn was too well. He didn't want what you wanted. He didn't want things to get serious between us, as he didn't want things to get serious with nobody else.

You moved on his lap ready to go back to the passenger seat and then walk out of this car. You wanted to go to your house and fall on the couch. You were embarrassed. All this were embarrassing. Your plans were thrown out of the window by Bjorn. He had other plans. His hand wrapped around your waist again and stopped you. He trapped you between his hands and looked at you confused.

"I am waking up early tomorrow. I have to sleep, Bjorn." You spoke, trying to avoid his gaze. You tried to move away from him, but he didn't let you again.

Bjorn noticed that something was wrong with you. You had called him Bjorn and not bear. When he called you zin you called him bear. This time he called you zin, but you called him Bjorn. You were all nice and happy but after the kiss you shared you acted all weird, calling him Bjorn and not bear. He kept telling you not to call him bear but Bjorn, as you kept telling him not to call you zin but by your name.

"I know that this is a lie. Tell me what's going on. The truth, (Y/N)." He said. Bjorn's hand made it on your chin again and he lifted your head to look at his bothered blue eyes again. "You know that you can tell me anything, zin." He continued and you tried not to let the tears that threatened you to fall.

"Anything but that. I can't tell you that."

"Hey, you can tell me everything, (Y/N). Try me."

You looked away for a moment to crear your mimd and gather your courage and tell him the truth. After all these years you were finally about to tell him. Maybe his rejection would make you see through him, would make you forget about your feelings about him and finally move on.

"I—" You paused for a moment. You were speaking and not looking at him. Then you looked at him again, ready to tell him everything. "I love you. That's the reason I kissed you. I - I have those feelings for you from high school. But I understand that you don't want me like that. It was my mistake to kiss you, but I couldn't keep myself from doing so." You confessed. After you spoke your words, you were looking anywhere else in the car and out of it except him.

"No, no. That kiss was the right thing to do. I like you for a while as well. But, as you told yourself, I can't give you what you want. I am not the man who craves commitments, (Y/N)." He spoke. He was looking at you all the time. You didn't. You were looking outside the window, tearing up, trying not to let him understand that you were like that. "Hey! Look at me!" He told you and you did as he said. Bjorn's hand left your waist and wiped away your tears. You closed your eyes and let him touch your face. "Don't cry. Not for me and anyone else. Men like me don't deserve this." Bjorn whispered to you and you started crying. His hand was about to clean your face again, but you stopped him.

"Don't fucking tell me what to fucking do, Bjorn!I will fucking cry for you and whoever else I fucking want!" You yelled at him and covered your face with your hands.

You didn't really know the reason you were like that. You knew exactly how Bjorn was and yet you were crying over this. Actually, you were crying for no actual reason.

Bjorn didn't talk. He didn't know what to say. He felt bad seeing you like that. He thought that he liked you, but its wasn't just that anymore. Seeing you crying made his heart clench inside his chest.

"(Y/N)." He muttered your name and took your hands away from your face. He cleaned your tears. This time you let him do it. Your eyes wasn't looking at him. They were closed. His hand stayed on your cheek caressing it after he finished cleaning your face from the tears.

"I am sorry." You muttered back and finally opened your eyes.

Bjorn loved your eyes. He had told you that they were innocent and playful at the same time. Your father used to say that those two eyes of yours could destroy the whole world by one of your looks. Those eyes after all this crying were red and they hurt.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." He whispered.

You were still on his lap but you didn't care about that after your confession to him about your feelings.

"Let me finish." You told him, looking at him. "I'm sorry for making you feel so uncomfortable. I know exactly what you believe. You don't like commitments and I am okay with this. We can still be friends if you want. I mean, it would be okay if you don't want us to be friends after what I told you." You rambled, still looking at the man any woman would be on her knees for.

Bjorn was thinking about something, you could tell by the look on his face.

"No, I don't think that we can do that. I can't do that." He finally said after some moments of pure silence. You nodded your head at his words.

"I see and I—" He didn't let you finish.

"You don't understand, but I don't blame you." He spoke. Bjorn came closer to you. You were confused by him. He said that you couldn't be friends but he didn't mean that. That man was so complicated. Bjorn Ironside Lothbrok would be the death of you for sure. "You know that I don't like commitments. I don't date. I can't date you. I thought that I just liked you, but that was only until I saw you crying. Seeing you crying felt like someone was ripping my heart off my body." He confessed not looking at you anymore.

"You mean that—" You tried to say again, but his hoarse voice stopped you.

"I want to try for us, but you know how I am like." Bjorn spoke and rubbed the back of his neck. You chuckled at him and he did the same.

"Okay. Do you want us to take it slow?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

"Good."

"Good." Both of your voices at the end were soft. Bjorn was smirking all the time and you were grinning at him. "Where were we?" He asked after some time, that smirk was still fixed on his face. You were inches away from him again. He brushed his lips against yours and you moaned softly.

"In the part after I kissed you." You answered and as you spoke each one of your words your lips were touching slightly his own.

"Oh yeah that part. Is this the part you inviting me in your house or the one we calling it a night? I'm asking because we agreed to take things slow." Bjorn said nervously and you chuckled.

"I think that's the part where—" You stopped and just looked at him for a moment. Your hand was on his arm caressing him. "You and me are going inside my house and then it's up to you what happens. My parts are ending the moment we enter my house, bear." You continued and his smirk grew wider.

"Then, we shouldn't waste our time in here, zin." He said and you smiled again. You returned on the passenger seat and get out of his car. Bjorn did the same thing and within a moment you were inside your house.

"My part ends here." You reminded him.

His hands found the sides of your top and pulled you closer to him by them.

"Good." He spoke and pressed his lips violently on yours. The kiss was rougher than the previous one. His mouth was sucking you lips and you were trying hard not to moan all the time.

You didn't stop kissing even when you started unbuttoning his shirt's buttons. You took it off and stopped the kiss this time to admire his strong body, that was marked on many parts of it of ink or little scars. Within this little pause, he found the chance to pull your black top up and take it off your body, leaving you with your bra. Both of you kicked your shoes off your feet.

Bjorn placed his strong, huge hands on your waist and placed you on his shoulder. His hand landed on your ass and you laughed. You couldn't see him, but you could guess that he was smirking. Bjorn walked with you on his shoulder through the hallway that led to your bedroom.

When you were inside there, he threw you on your bed. Bjorn's hand went to his belt and he took it off his pants. He came closer to you and trapped your hands in one of his own. He wrapped his belt around your hands tightly and tied it on your bed's back.

"If you don't like anything that I am doing, tell me and I will stop. Okay?" He asked you as he was tying you on the bed.

"Yes." You spoke.

He didn't say anything else. His large hands squeezed your breasts above your bra and you moaned. You tried to move your hands, but that was impossible. They were tied really tightly on your bed. Bjorn's hands left your breasts and moved at your back, he unclipped your bra and threw it on the floor along with his pants.

After this, his mouth attacked one of your breasts. He licked, bit and sucked your nipple and you were moaning louder than before under him. His free hand was pushing your belly back on the mattress to keep you stable under him.

Bjorn run his hand slowly from your breast to belly and then at the start of your pants. You groaned when his hands unzipped your pants and took it off your body.

His mouth was kissing your left thigh, each kiss was higher than the previous one. After some kisses, his mouth was on your inner thigh, inches away from your wet entrance. Bjorn stopped for a moment and his blue, insatiable eyes glances at you. Your eyes were waiting impatiently for his next movement. He smirked at the sight of you.

His hand — that wasn't pushing you down on the mattress by your belly — ripped off your wet panties. Without any warning, he slipped two hands of his inside you and you groaned. Your back arced, but he didn't let you move from the mattress. His hand pushed you down on the mattress once more.

The moves his fingers did inside you were rough and fast. You couldn't control yourself. You couldn't stop yourself from moaning and groaning.

"Bjorn—" You groaned loudly, close to you climax, but your release never came. You opened your eyes when his fingers were out of you. You frowned as you were about cry about this. He smirked and his face moved close to yours. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss.

When he pulled away and his hands didn't touch your body anymore, you tried to reach him, but the belt which held your hands still on the bed prevented you from reaching him.

"Don't be impatient and greedy, zin." He said in the playful tone of his voice. "We have all night ahead us and probably more nights like this one." He stated and you grinned. Bjorn got rid of his underwear too, freeing his huge arousal. You gasped at his size. "Relax, zin. It's just me." He said, knowing that you felt kind of nervous for the his next movements. He knew way too well to read you.

"Bjorn, please." You mumbled and he smirked.

"Please what?" He said playfully.

"Please take me." You mumbled again and his smirk grew wider than before.

"On my way."

These were his last words, before he placed himself between you legs. Before you know it, he pushed himself deep inside you and you groaned loudly. You weren't used to his size. His thrusts were rough and fast, each one was deeper than the previous one. He hurt you at first.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked you when he noticed the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. He stopped moving but didn't pull his member away from you. You opened your eyes and looked at the man between your legs.

"No, don't stop. Please Bjorn, move." You whispered and that was the only thing he needed to hear to continue.

His movements were faster and deeper than before. This time, his mouth moved on your neck. Bjorn started leaving marks on it. You were groaning and screaming his name. You wanted to touch him, but it was impossible with your hands were tied like that.

After some thrusts of his, you were on your climax. Your body tightened around him and he growled. Bjorn knew you were close.

"Bjorn!" You screamed his name louder than before as you were coming.

"Fuck!" He growled and came too, after you.

Bjorn's hands moved on your own whick were tying with his belt. He untied them and laid down on the mattress next to you. His hands wrapped themselves around your body and pulled you closer to him.

"Relax for a moment and then we will do it again." He said and kissed you hard.

#vikings bjorn #modern bjorn #bjorn fanfic #bjorn imagine #modern bjorn x reader #bjorn x reader #bjorn ragnarsson #bjorn lothbrok #bjorn ironside #bjorn #vikings imagine #vikings modern au #modern vikings #vikings fic #modern vikings x reader #vikings x reader #modern au

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mrsmaybank · 3 years

Text

My Little Sun - Spencer Reid x Reader

“Can you imagine it?” I started, “A little girl who looks just like you? I’d be in so much trouble.”

She giggled, “Absolutely whipped.”

PART ONE HERE

A/N: It came out fast!!! I had lowk already started it, so that’s why this update came so quickly. Please don’t expect them all to come this fast LMAO. I usually write slow as fuck. Anyway, I really hope you guys like this part so I can maybe just maybe turn this into a mini series. Please lmk if you guys like :)

CONTENT WARNINGS: KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY, LANGUAGE, MENTIONS OF SEX (lmk if i missed any please)

I paced the bullpen as the team spoke to Penelope. The shock of her pregnancy was starting to wear off, and now I could think more clearly. How could she? What was she thinking?

Recently, I’d found myself thinking about it more, a baby her and a mini-me. A family of my own, with the love of my life. It was exciting and like a lovesick fool it made my stomach fuzzy. But she wasn’t ready and I couldn’t do that to her. So how could she do it to herself? She hadn’t finished school, hadn’t started her career. She could barely take care of herself! I wasn’t mad, absolutely not. Just disappointed at her self-sabotage and the fact she’d made the decision completely without me. I couldn’t think about it for long though, because I was swiftly reminded by my surroundings that right now, there was a chance I’d lose her, our child and any children we wanted to have in the future. That was the priority.

“Garcia, check her credit card records, we need to see where she last was.” Hotch said.

“Uhm, okay,” Penelope took a deep breath while clicking away, “Let’s see. Her last purchase was last night, 6:49 at a CVS Pharmacy, oh--”

“What Garcia?” Hotch asked.

“She was um, picking up her monthly case of birth control.”

JJ broke the silence, “Spence…” she started towards me.

I breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank god.”

“Thank god?” Morgan questioned.

“She’s 23.” I wiped my face, “Whole life ahead of her.” The team understood what I was trying to say. Rossi’s hand fell on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“So why would she tell Brook she was?” Garcia asked.

“I uh, I..I don’t know.” I spat out. I really had no idea.

“Think Reid.” Rossi told me. “You guys ever talk about kids or pregnancy?”

“She might be trying to send us a message,” Emily added.

I thought back to the last time we discussed starting a family.

--FLASHBACK--

We were surrounded by timeless pieces of art and history, and yet the true masterpiece was still her. She was always beautiful to me, a perfect being, truly. But today, something about the way she looked today specifically, made her look like the kind of beauty you see in a painting. Had she been a painting, her creator must have been skilled. Each stroke of his brush creating every divine curve of her face and body to produce a work of magnificent art, one that I so proudly hung on the walls of my heart.

I remember exactly what she wore, and how it felt to take it all off. The painter had an eye for color. Her denim skirt, the length or lack thereof making me embarrassingly wary, was blue like the Mediterranean Sea, complementing the pigment of the skin of her legs. A white button down made of silk, not worn properly, of course. Too many buttons were left open at the top, as to draw attention to the gold adorned on her chest, but in the spell of temptation she procured to cast upon me, my eyes wandered to admire territories of her body they shouldn’t have. Not in public, at least. The buttons at the bottom were left untouched as well, revealing the soft skin of her stomach. She looked like an angel, but of course, went out of her way to instead be my temptress.

My affinity for her beauty aside, the wide eyes in delight at the museum artifacts and careful attention to my commentary were what made our excursion wonderful. The feeling of her smaller hand in mine, and the giggles and the teasing “You’re way too nerdy to be so stupid hot Dr. Reid.” made it absolutely perfect.

In exchange for her listening so attentively to my historical facts and stories, I took her for ice cream. She insisted we ate it on the greens of Lincoln Park. Who was I to deny her that? What came next--I expected. She’d devoured it. Made a mess of strawberry ice cream on her white shirt.

“It was the wind!” She insisted as the first of many drips of ice cream fell down her chin.

“No it was not!” I argued back while wiping it, “You just never learned how to eat ice cream properly.” I gently removed the cone from her hands and into mine, taking an overzealous bite. “This, lovey, is how you eat ice cream.”

“Give it back, you...you dickass!” She snorted. We laughed like two lovesick teenagers.

“Dickass?” I asked, eyes watery from laughter.

“Yeah dickass, give me back my damn ice cream.” I took another bite, “Stop! You’re eating it all!” She pouted. Pouts were unfortunately my weakness and I handed it back to her. However, in her rush, the pink scoop had fallen directly on her blouse.

“Way to prove my point,” I started to take off my cardigan, “You want dickass’s sweater?”

She wanted to be mad but couldn’t contain the wince of a smile. “Please.”

We carefully removed her shirt from under while simultaneously putting the cardigan in its place.

“Spence don’t let me flash! There’s kids and judgmental old ladies here!”

I laughed and shushed her, “I know, I know.” I moved all the fabrics quickly and it was done. Her sticky pink shirt was replaced with my soft sweater. “There.”

“My hero,” She kissed me, “Truly.”

She leaned back on our picnic blanket on her shoulders as we observed our fellow park goers. “So many kids.”

I nodded my head in agreement. “Yeah…”

“We should bring our kids here one day.” she said, instantly breaking my haze from the crowd so I could only see her.

I smiled again at the thought, “Yeah, and tell them how their mom is the world's clumsiest ice cream eater.”

She looked at me with disdain before shoving her shoulder into mine. “Shut up.”

“Can you imagine it?” I started, “A little girl who looks just like you? I’d be in so much trouble.”

She giggled, “Absolutely whipped.”

I toppled her so we were laying down, facing each other. She kissed me hard, and my hands went to the sides of her face, only pulling back to say “I can’t wait for it, you know. My two little girls.”

She smiled, “But I’ll always be your favorite right?” she asked sarcastically.

I laughed, “Oh of course. Always.”

“I’ll have a big ol’ belly, you know.” I nodded, “You’d still be perfect.”

“We’d have to go to the mall, buy me a shitload of new clothes. Do ya know how dirty malls are Spence?” I winced at the thought of thousands of strangers bacteria on every surface and she laughed, “Got ya.” I shook my head, “Nope! I uh, I’ll just bring hand sanitizers and uh, to the Maternity section we’ll go.”

“Non-stop Panda express eating.” I nodded again, “I’ll be non-stop Panda Express buying, then.” She smiled so hard her nose scrunched.

“I love you Spencer.”

“I love you too. I am so in love with you.”

--FLASHBACK ENDS--

“Yeah but it was trivial.” I said.

“Maybe not,” Hotch argued, “Was anything mentioned specifically?”

“A name she liked?” Prentiss added, “Maybe a craving she thought she might have? Anything at all?”

I nodded, “Not a food, but a fast food place. Panda Express.” I doubted that would be helpful.

“It’s a stretch but, Garcia, check for any dilapidated buildings within 10 miles of a Panda Express.”

“Yes sir,” She typed away and then said, “No, guys. I’m sorry. All of our Panda Express’s are in pristine malls or new developments.”

“Mall!” I shouted, “She said we’d have to go to the mall! She knows I hate the mall.”

Morgan pointed at us, “The tiles in that room look like they could be from some 80’s Bloomingdales.”

“Garcia-” I said.

“Already on it.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pregnancy ruse was either going to get me killed, or save my life. It was a moment of panic and I just wanted to throw her off. I know it did, but in what direction?

She was still crying, her demeanor with me was still laced with bitter animosity, but she was calmer now.

“How long have you known?” Brook asked, the contents of her flask now empty and her words slurred.

“I found out yesterday.” I lied through my teeth.

She shrugged her shoulders, “Had you guys talked about it?”

“Vaguely.” I admitted.

“What’d Spencer want? Boy or girl?” I debated on whether or not to say, and she caught on. “Don’t fucking lie.” She stated harshly.

“Girl.” I breathed out. “He wants a girl.”

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I don’t care.” I said. That was true.

“How come?”

“I just want to start a family with him. Don’t really care about the gender…” That was true as well.

“Oh.” she nodded her head, “Why’d he want a girl?” It was strange, her genuine curiosity. It freaked me out, but my alternative was being stabbed. I chose to just answer her questions, regardless of how much I really did not want to.

“He liked the idea of a little girl who looked like me.”

She winced, eyes tearing up further. “Right.” I was beginning to realize her feelings were very real.

“You really like him, don’t you?” I asked. I knew I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t help it. My head was still looking for an answer as to how she could be driven to do something like this.

She clasped her hands together, her anger returning. “Don’t fucking start. You know nothing of what I feel for Spencer.” She came up closer and tugged at my hair, “Fucking nothing.”

“Okay,” I grimaced at the pain from the force at which she pulled my hair, “I-I’m sorry.”

She let go, “You should be. You really, really fucking should be.” She sat back down, pensive for a while. I wish I knew what she was thinking about.

My heart had not stopped it’s fast pace ridden with anxiety since I gained full awareness of my situation, but now, it felt like it was going to burst through my chest. Was she planning on just killing me now?

My anticipation ceased when she got up and brought back the camera with her again. “Hello BAU. There has been a change in plans. Your beloved,” The words reeked of sarcasm, “Y/N here, will be returned eventually. . She’s gonna be fine. However, it is now in everybody best interest if this video feed was cut out. Sorry.” She said before mouthing, “No I’m not.” She shut the camera off.

She turned to me, “I hate you. Fucking despise you.” Figures.

“But I would never hurt Spencer. Or his child. Even if it is being carried by a whore like you.”

She began to pace once more, “You’re obviously a mistake on his part. You clearly tricked him with sex and...no just sex I think. You're not really smart enough to be capable of anything else. Regardless, he’s probably already thinking about abortions or adoption. There’s no way in hell a man like him could ever want to start a family with a girl like you.” She shook her head, “Absolutely not.”

I could only nod my head at her delusions. This woman was so far up her ass.

She pinched my cheeks together with her cold hands, “You tried to trap him. How’d that go for you?”

I was silent.

“I asked you a fucking question!” She held my face impossibly tighter.

“Poorly.” I got out, “Poorly.”

“In 9 months, I’ll help you deliver your baby. And then, you can go.” Brook backed away and let go of her tight grip on my face. “I’m keeping the kid. Raising it.” She smiled, “I’ll be the mother Spencer’s child will deserve. And then-” A giggle creepily reminiscent of a schoolgirl’s left her throat, “He’ll love me!”

Brooks intention had twisted from wanting to murder and torture me as revenge for “taking” Spencer, to a now twisted maternal desire for his (hypothetical) child. But if Spencer and his team couldn’t find me before the time I was supposed to be showing, I was fucked. Utterly fucked.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Taglist: @britishspidey

(Let me know to be added)

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staticscreenwriting · 3 years

Text

LOVE LIKE THE MOVIES // BUCKY BARNES // 7

SEVEN - SERENDIPITY

Trigger warning: Alcohol, food

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

“Okay, that’s ridiculous!” Bucky mumbles around a spoonful of fruit loops.

“What is?”

“This,” he responds and points his now empty spoon accusingly at John Cusack. “This whole fate thing. The book, sure, might happen. But the dollar bill? Never!”

(Y/N) puts her empty bowl on the couch table, turning her body towards Bucky and sitting in a criss-cross style. “You telling me you don’t believe in fate and soulmates and that some people are destined to be together.”

“No,” Bucky retorts in a tone that implies it was a silly question to even ask him. “I am 106 years old. If those things were true you'd think I would've found my destined partner by now."

"Maybe you have" (Y/N) shrugs. "Maybe it's Leah. Have you called her anyway?"

Bucky looks down sheepishly into the colorful milk swirling through his bowl. "No."

“ What? Why not? “

“Because it hasn’t — oh I don't know. It just hasn’t felt right.”

He’d been debating on giving her a call many times, never actually going through with it. At first, it was for a fear of failure, rejection. Now though, Leah doesn’t cross his mind as much as before. His thoughts, he noticed recently, are occupied by another person. And it wouldn't be fair to Leah or himself to try and build something on shaky ground at best.

“ Dude, I’m educating you on romance and you are too afraid to call this girl? “

“ Educating me? You are forcing me to watch rom coms. “

“ Forcing you? “ (Y/N) gasps and dramatically slaps her hand to her chest right above where her heart is. “ Are you saying you’re not having fun? “

There’s a smirk on her face, tiny and barely there but he notices it anyway. He’s started noticing the small things. Like how her nose scrunches up when she smiles and how she twiddles with her fingers when she’s nervous.

“ If I didn’t have fun I wouldn’t be here. “ Bucky replies and bumps his leg against her knee. Truth be told, he’d be here anyway. Even if she’d make him watch the most boring movie in the entire world he’d stay right there with her. Sometimes the world doesn't seem so rough and ruthless when she’s there beside him. Sometimes he feels like he could genuinely be happy.

“ Good, “ (Y/N) responds and places a quick kiss on his cheek that very nearly gives him a heart attack. Soft touches are something she grants him every so often and while he is getting used to it, it’s still foreign. It’s something he enjoys quite a lot though.

“Anyway, soulmates finding their way back to each other despite all odds is such a rom-com stable. Like the kiss in the rain or the airport chase or the top-of-the-stairs-moment.”

“ The what ? “

(Y/N) scoffs at him as if she’s never been asked a more ridiculous question in her life.

“ The moment when the girl gets a makeover or she dresses up in some ballgown and her love interest waits at the bottom of the stairs for her and when he sees her he’s so enamored and enchanted by her and ideally there’s some cheesy 90s love song playing in the background. And she meets him at the bottom, walking in slow motion obviously, and they don’t kiss or anything but the looks they share are enough to let the audience know what they feel for one another.”

Her words are heavy with passion and longing and magic and for a second Bucky wishes, he could be the one to give her that moment.

“ But okay, grumpy. You go on not believing in soulmates. I’ll change your mind one day, trust me.”

He doesn’t doubt it for a second.

They sink back into their blissful calm as John Cusak and Kate Beckinsale reconnect on the ice rink in front of Rockefeller Center as an ocean of Christmas lights twinkles in the background.

“ I’ve never been ice skating there. Been living here for so many years now and that’s still something I’ve never done. “ (Y/N) pipes up, a longing swinging alone with her words. “ Have you? “

“ Mmmh. Used to take a lot of girls on dates there. “

“ Oh sorry, I forgot you were a big charmer back in the day. “

“ Saw the first-ever Christmas tree getting set up in 1933. '' he continues to say. Sometimes talking about the past makes him sad. It’s a time he will never be able to go back to. A man he will never be again.

But sometimes, like today, he’s able to recall little snippets of memories and remember how he felt in that exact moment. And those are worth all the pain that thinking about the future might bring.

“ That — is weird flex but actually really cool. “

Bucky doesn’t think of himself as cool. He’s a grumpy 106-year-old who is completely disillusioned with the world around him. If (Y/N) thinks so though, he’s not gonna try to change her mind.

She snuggles back into him, body leaning against the smooth vibranium arm. A part of him he never felt really belonged to himself. Something he had been given to kill, to defend, to fight. If something so dangerous can be a place of comfort to her, Maybe, he thinks, it’s not so bad after all. Maybe sometimes you just have to let go of the part and change your perspective of things.

For a while, they get lost in the movie, in the fictional love of two strangers. He remembers the romance novels his mothers used to read. The way she would get lost in them. Maybe to escape her own life for just a second and follow along with the stories and the people that seemed so much grander than her own existence as a housewife stuck in a life that seems too small to contain her in all her wonderful glory. His mother, Bucky always knew even at a young age, deserved more than she had been given. She was smart and funny and she loved her kids as much as a heart could love another. But her days were dull and her marriage was one of convenience more than anything. She had ideas, beautiful stories swirled around her head, and she’d tell them to him and his sister before she’d tuck them into bed. And yet that is where they stayed, in her mind and in her children's memories. She was never resentful though. She took things as they came and she made them beautiful.

He wonders sometimes, what would’ve come from her ideas if she had been given the chance to tell them to a bigger audience. She could’ve put those rom-coms to shame.

A knock on the front door startles (Y/N), making her get up from the couch and follow LAdy towards the entrance. There’s a definite lack of warmth where she used to be and Bucky feels himself missing her already.

“ It’s probably Robin, she left her favorite jacket here the other — mom? “

The air fills with a chaotic mix of several voices one speaking over the other while the charm on Lady’s collar underlines it all with a jingling sound like that of a small bell.

Before he can even think about how to react, (Y/N) steps back into the living room followed by two more people. A woman who looks like an older version of her and a man. They seem lost in conversation still, talking about their travel to NYC and the fact that the man, who Bucky assumes is (Y/N)’s father, refused to ask for directions.

That’s until their eyes fall on Bucky. The woman regards him with a gentle smile on her face, polite and warm as mothers usually are. The man though. There’s something in his eyes, in his demeanor, that changed once he set sight on Bucky and it doesn’t feel good. Bucky knows what it’s like to be recognized. People see him and then they see all the bodies left in his wake, all the blood on his hands, all the pain and the suffering and the —

“ Sergeant Barnes. “

They used to call him that in Wakanda, as a sign of respect, he believes. To make him realize that they do not see him as the thread he used to be but the man he once was. Other than that it’s been a long time since people referred to him as Sergeant Barnes. It’s a title he takes pride in, something he worked hard for. It also belongs to a man he isn’t anymore. Bucky isn’t sure he still earns it. Still owns it.

“ Uh — hello. “

“Dad, “ (Y/N) says and pushes past her parents to stand next to Bucky. Her hand rests on his arm as a sign of comfort and reassurance. He appreciates it very much. “ Mom. This is Bucky. “

“ I can’t believe it. “ her father exclaims, still not taking his eyes off of Bucky.

“ Dad. “

“ I can not believe it. I can’t believe you! “

There it is. Although Bucky has always been very aware that he wasn’t nearly worth (Y/N)’s time, having it thrown in his face hurts more than he likes to admit.

“ Dad … “

“ You know James Barnes, and you tell me nothing about it? (Y/N) I’ve — I’ve spent so much time researching this man revising all the information people before me have gathered and making sure his legacy and his place in Steve Rogers' life get acknowledged and now I’d have the chance to ask him personally and you — you keep it a secret from me? “

Wait … what ?

“ Bucky, “ (Y/N) says and looks up at him with her gorgeous eyes that never seem to fail at calming him down. “These are my parents and as you can tell, my dad’s a big fan of yours. “

The next few minutes are a chaos of handshakes and nice-to-meet-yous and hugs. Her mother hugs Bucky real tightly, the way mothers do when they know someone needs a hug. And she doesn’t flinch when she feels the metal arm. She just hugs him a little tighter.

“ Why are you guys here? “ (Y/N) asks as her father throws an arm around her shoulder

“ Well, you asked us to look after Lady while you’re gone. “ her mother replies as if it’s the obvious answer.

“ Yeah, but we don’t leave until Friday afternoon. It’s Thursday. “

“ That is truuuue. But dad and I thought we’d surprise you and take you out for a nice dinner since we won’t be spending Christmas together, we thought we could at least try to make up for it. “

(Y/N) shakes her head at her mother’s words. “ I told you guys, it’s not a big deal. You go enjoy your cruise. “

“ And we will but you’re our girl and we want to take you out for dinner. Give your old parents that much, will you” her father jokes and ruffles her hair as if she was just a little girl and maybe she is in that moment, wrapped in his arms.

“ I uh — Bucky and I had plans. “

“ What plans? “ her mother asks, eyebrows raised.

“ Watching movies. “

“ Oh, those aren’t plans. Go get dressed! “

“ And James will obviously come with us, “ her dad adds “ I am not done asking him questions. “

It’s not December yet but the restaurant is already decked out in Christmas lights and tastefully placed sparkly ornaments. The soft lull of Christmas carols being played on a piano flows through the room and Bucky is thankful to discover that while so much has changed, many of those songs have stayed the same. Maybe things aren’t all different right now. Maybe the fundamental things have stayed the same. Like the feeling of being with your family sitting by the tree, singing songs that have been passed down from your parents to you.

(Y/N) sits next to him, lips painted the exact same shade of red as her slouchy knit sweater. She looks so cozy and comfortable and soft and if he’s being really honest with himself, all he wants to do is hold her tight and get lost in her warmth. But this is good, as good as it can ever get, really. Sitting next to her, across from her parents who have been nothing but kind to him. They’re eating good food, drinking delicious drinks and her parents are sharing funny and slightly embarrassing stories about (Y/N). This is the first time he’s meeting anyone’s parents as the man he is now. And even back in the 40s things weren’t this calm and easy. If you went to meet a woman’s parents you better came prepared. This feels nice. Like he gets to be part of a family for just a teeny tiny moment.

“ So, how long have you guys been together? “ her mother asks around a fork of tiramisu. While Bucky only looks at her with wide eyes, (Y/N) almost chokes on her wine.

“ Mom, we’re — not. We’re friends. “

“ Oh,” her mother replies, looking unconvinced as her eyes move back and forth between (Y/N) and Bucky “ I guess I must’ve read that wrong. Shame, you would make adorable babies. “

“ Mom!”

Bucky’s sure his cheeks are the same color as her sweater and her lips and her fingernails. A beautiful bright red. Like a Santa’s hat.

“ I know, babe. You’re an independent woman who makes her own decisions and if you decide not to have babies that’s alright with us. As long as you are happy, so are we. Lady makes for a wonderful substitute grandchild. Just sayin’ if you were to have babies with Bucky they would turn out really cute. “

“ Okay, how about we stop talking about my imaginary potential future children, huh? You go tell me more about work, dad. How about that? “

As her dad starts talking about some history classes he teaches and the students, Bucky notices the change in (Y/N)’s demeanor. Her laid-back ease is gone. She keeps fidgeting with her hair and the rings on her hand. Without really thinking about it, like his body is working on autopilot, Bucky reaches out and grabs her hand under the table. It’s still weird, touching soft skin with his metal hand without the intention of inflicting pain. It’s nice though. It’s wonderful.

She doesn’t let go for a long time.

Restrooms in restaurants are places where time is slightly altered. You’re sheltered from the noises of the main room but they’re still faintly audible through the door. The clinking of glasses and cutlery, the laughter, and the voices as they flow together like waves in an ocean.

It feels like you get a break from the real world for just a moment. To catch yourself. To take a breath. To look at yourself in the mirror and decide your next steps as the music sounds from the overhead speakers in a duller version as if someone wrapped the lyrics in thick cotton padding.

(Y/N) washes her hands while looking at her reflection. Today’s a good day. It’s not going the way she has expected it but it’s a good day nonetheless. Bucky and her parents get along like a house on fire. It’s a nice feeling but it also makes her so acutely aware of all the what-ifs floating around her head and her heart. Would it feel like this if she and Bucky were more than friends? Would it feel this — right?

Before her mind can come up with an answer to her own question, the door to the restrooms swings open letting in a sliver of the noise outside. Her mother steps in and looks at her with that signature mom smile. Like she knows you better than you know yourself. And maybe that isn’t entirely wrong.

“ Your dad and I are going to take a cab to the hotel. We’ll come over to yours tomorrow before you leave. Is that okay? Bucky said he’d walk you home.”

Of course, he’d say that. He’s a gentleman. He’s Bucky.

“ Sure that’s fine. I’m glad you guys came a day early. I missed you. “

“ We missed you too, baby,” she responds and pulls (Y/N) into a hug.

“ Now tell me something,” she says and takes (Y/N)’s face in between her hands. “ You and Bucky. There’s something there. “

(Y/N) shakes free from her mother's touch and faces the mirror, leaning both hands against the marble sink. “ Mom, can you leave it. “

“ I see the way you guys look at each other. I — you haven’t been this happy in so long. He makes you happy. “

As she lifts her head and looks into her own eyes in the mirror, (Y/N) feels a flood of emotions wash over her. Emotions she’s tried so hard to suppress and others she wasn’t even aware were there in the first place. And it’s all comes crashing down pulling her under and spitting her back out.

“ So what if he makes me happy. We’re not gonna happen. I can not lose a friend and he can’t either. It would kill us both. “

“ Oh honey, “ she goes to pull (Y/N) into another hug but she just shakes her head in response.

“ No. No, mom. It’s okay. I’m okay with it being the way it is. “

“ Are you sure? “

Is she? (Y/N) looks back at herself. You think you know yourself and what you want and how you feel and then someone asks you, truthfully asks you if you’re sure. And you can only stare and wonder. Well, are you?

And sometimes it’s way easier to lie, to both the other person and yourself, than to really face your fears and your feelings and everything you do or don’t understand about yourself.

“ Yeah. I am sure. “

It’s true. New York City never seems to fully go to sleep. There’s always a light on somewhere, guiding you through the dark, guiding you home.

It doesn’t fully go to sleep but it slows down. The air gets heavier, the noise gets quieter.

(Y/N) and Bucky slowly make their way through the familiar streets of their neighborhood as the city lights and the stars fight over who gets to shine more brightly upon them.

It’s a chilly evening, winter is truly just around the corner, and the air feels pregnant with the promise of snow and yet (Y/N) feels a warmth course through her that is unlike any other. A warmth that can only be brought on by being with your loved ones.

“ It’s a lovely night,” she says as her heels create a clip-clap sound against the pavement.

Bucky has his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket and his ever-present scowl decorates his face and yet, even Bucky can’t deny that it is a lovely night. One with so much potential. For — for lovers.

“ It really is.”

“ If life was a movie, “ (Y/N) says “ this would be when we realized that we're in love"

Bucky only raises his eyebrow at her, pushing her to elaborate. And maybe it’s a bit selfish. Maybe he just wants to hear her entertain the thought of them two as something more for just a little bit longer. Even if it’s just pretend.

“ We’d get a montage of some quirky dates that we didn’t realize were dates. Then the camera would pan down on us tonight, walking underneath the stars, the city lights glowing around us. There’d be some piano music in the background to set the mood. We’d have a deep talk about our fears or messed up childhoods or the meaning of life. And then you’d make me laugh and I’d accidentally hold your hand. You’d drop me off at my door, think about kissing my lips but then end up kissing my forehead. Once you leave I’d lean against my door, sink down to my floor, and grin like a fool because that’s the moment I realize I am in love with you and the audience would sigh in relief because they knew all along. “

“ That sounds nice,” Bucky replies, eyes staring into the distance as he tries to picture it all, safe it as a mental snapshot to go back to in quiet moments.

“ Yeah, well what a shame life is not a movie and we’re not in love. What a waste of a lovely night. “

“ Guess it’s perfect for a couple, huh? “ Bucky has to agree with her.

“ Mmmh. Or at least someone not in heels, “ (Y/N) jokes looking down at her shoes.

“ You want me to find a couple? Gift our night to them ? “ Bucky asks as they continue their journey down the Brooklyn streets.

“ Absolutely not, sir! “ (Y/N) responds and links her arm with his as she pulls him along. “ I like our night. I want to keep it for ourselves. “

And so they continue their walk home. Words that want to be said, that need to be said, hang heavy in the air, and yet they both decide to stay quiet and just enjoy the silence and comfort of their lovely little night.

The door feels like mocking her as it comes into view, cutting their moment short, putting an end to this blissful night.

She doesn’t want it to end. Doesn’t want to go inside and quite literally close the door to all the possibilities this night seems to hold out to her. If she was just brave enough to reach out and grab them.

(Y/N) unlock the door and turns back around to face Bucky. Something seems to hang in the air right between them and that feeling only gets stronger as their eyes lock. For a moment all there is, is silence and an abundance of unspoken words. And a fear that comes with speaking them. Of messing something up. Of being vulnerable.

Bucky smiles at her then. She loves his smile. It’s so rare but it’s so beautiful to look at. It gives you the feeling of having done something right.

“ Thanks for today, “ he says as if there’s anything to thank her for.

“ For what? “

“ Letting me be a part of your family. Thought maybe you didn’t want your parents to know about me. Thanks for — not being ashamed of me or anything. “

“ Oh Bucky, “ she says and grabs his hand, “ You are my friend and I love you. I’d never be ashamed of you. If anything I’m a little embarrassed by the way my dad kept pestering you with questions. Uh — why are you looking at me like that. “

“ You love me? “ his voice comes out but a mere whisper and his eyes are wide in shock.

“ Yes. You’re my friend, I love you. Bucky when — when was the last time someone told you they love you? “ (Y/N) asks as her hand softly strokes the side of his face.

“ 1942 “

“ Well, guess I’ll have to keep reminding you then, make up for lost time. I love you, Bucky Barnes. “

She can’t even blink before she’s wrapped up in his arms. Despite what one would think, Bucky is always warm. Even the vibranium arm. Everything radiates warmth and comfort. She could stay here forever.

Slowly he pulls away, looks deep into her eyes, lowers his head, and places his lips against her forehead. “ I love you too. “

He smiles at her once more then leaves. And while she won't admit it to anyone, ever, (Y/N) goes inside, leans against her door, sinks to the floor, and doesn't even try to suppress the foolish smile spreading on her lips.

Robin’s laughter fills the halls of the beautiful Inn where just tomorrow she’ll say I do.

“ This was your doing! You scheming little shit.” (Y/N) grumbles from the corner of her mouth as she slides up to Robin.

“ It wasn’t, “ the red-haired girl laughs “ but I wish it was. It’s hilarious.“

Redstone Lodge is a beautiful Inn located in upstate New York. It looks out onto a lake and is surrounded by lots and lots of Christmas trees all year round. It’s made of bricks and big wooden panels. Very rustic and yet cozy and elegant. In the yard, there’s a huge tent with a wooden floor and a see-through roof. That’s where the reception will be held tomorrow.

Redstone Lodge has 35 rooms all of which have been distributed to the various guests. They’re beautiful rooms with nice decor and comfortable beds. Well — a bed. One. Singular.

“ This is like some fanfiction trope, Robin. There is only one bed? “

“ Look," Robin says and pulls (Y/N) closer “ if you want to switch, find someone to switch with. I’m sure someone is willing to. But I’m just saying that if you two are friends, shouldn’t you be able to sleep in a bed together and not make it weird? “

She has a point and she knows it and she also knows that (Y/N) knows it.

Huffing a breath of annoyance (Y/N) grumbles an “okay fine” before letting Robin be taken hostage by yet another overly excited aunt and returns to Bucky’s side as he stands on the front steps looking out into the vast area. It really is a beautiful place to get married.

“ Hey so uh — bad news is that this is the only room they have so we’ll have to share a bed. Good news is they got some movies to take up to the room and I found some really dope rom-coms. “

“It's okay, don't worry. I promise I won't hog the blanket,” Bucky says and nods his head into the direction of the lake “ wanna take a walk? “

“ Sure. Yeah, why not. “

In all honesty (Y/N) isn’t the biggest fan of walking around the woods with no particular destination in mind and yet she can’t help but feel a sense of happiness fill her as she links her arm with Bucky’s once again.

She realized a while ago that she tends to gravitate towards his left side. It isn’t a conscious decision but maybe it’s a good one nonetheless.

Maybe it’ll show him that every part of him is worth loving, even the ones he doesn’t love himself.

“ When was the last time you did something crazy? “

He doesn’t like the way those words sound tumbling from her lips. He does, however, like very much how her eyes sparkle in the light of the setting sun. Their walk had turned into a bit of a hike and by the time they’ve finally made it back to the lake, the sun is about to set. Everyone seems to have retreated back into the lodge, maybe to sit by the big cozy fireplace or up to their room with their several beds. More than one. plural.

Bucky doesn’t want to let go of their time together though. Not yet. Just a little bit longer. And if that means agreeing to one of her weird ideas, so be it.

"Uh well, I fought aliens a few months ago."

"Huh … well see that's not an answer I was prepared for I mean more like, when did you last do something stupid but fun?"

“Like dancing in the middle of a street or having a cake fight in a parking lot?”

“Yeah …. like that.”

She looks at him again with that mischief and that softness. Like a mix of all things that make you feel alive shine back at him from her eyes.

“Wanna go swimming?” (Y/N) asks and smirks at him.

“Now? It’s freezing.”

“ I know,” she replies and shrugs her shoulders “ and I know it’s silly and dumb and we’ll probably get sick but I kinda wanna do it anyway. Wait … can you get sick?”

“Huh?”

“Because of the serum.”

“You know, they didn’t exactly give me a manual when they injected it so — guess we’ll have to find out.”

“So you’re in?”

Bucky only nods his head in agreement. She doesn’t need to know that he’d agree to anything she suggests. Any little thing.

The woods around them are dark and thick and where they probably should be scary they are comforting now. They’re a shelter from the eyes of onlookers. A safe roof and walls to keep their little bubble safe and hold their moment tight and safe.

“Holy shit, it’s freezing!” (Y/N) hisses through clenched teeth as the water reaches up to her shoulders, the straps of her yellow bra the only colors shining through the dark night.

Don’t think about it. He has to tell himself. Don’t think about the fact that she’s only in her underwear. Don’t think about her soft skin and her smile and what her body feels like against yours. Don’t!

He doesn’t have to scold himself for too long before a cold splash of water hits him right in the face.

“Oh, you made a mistake” Bucky calls out to a laughing (Y/N) who tries her best to tread water and get as far away from him as possible but fails to do so, being wrapped up in his arms only seconds later.

For the next few minutes, they splash around like children at the neighborhood pool.

The cold of the night and the lake rattle their bones but neither of them seems to care as a familiar warmth wraps itself around their hearts.

It’s really fascinating how the little moments can become so meaningful. How one person can mean so much so quickly. How drastically your life can change just because of one single person and their kindness and their love.

“Oh-oh!” (Y/N) exclaims excitedly and lays little enthusiastic slaps on Bucky’s shoulder “let’s do the dirty dancing lift. You can lift me, right?”

“I have a vibranium arm…”

“Right. Yeah. Right.”

Bucky places his hands on her waist and pulls her a little closer, trying to ignore the incessant thumping of his heart that feels like it wants to break out of his chest. “Okay on 3.”

“One”

Her eyes look deep into his as if trying to search for something in them. Secrets. Hidden feelings. The truth.

“Two”

And when she smiles, almost shy, it seems for a second that she’s found whatever she’s been looking for. He hopes she likes the secret she uncovers. He hopes it doesn’t scare her off from loving him.

“Three”

In a swift motion, he lifts her up above his head, holding her strong and steady as drops of water, cold as ice, rain down on him while (Y/N) laughs and stretches out her arms.

“We did it! I’m flying, Jack!”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” She retorts and lets out another laugh. Yeah, maybe he’s freezing his ass off but to hear her laugh like that, makes it all worth it.

He doesn’t let her fall over like they do in the movie, instead, he grips her waist tighter, slowly and gently lowers her back into the water. And when she’s back right in front of him, chest against his, he should be letting go of her, but he doesn’t.

While his head keeps screaming at him to just let go, his heart tells him otherwise, makes him stay right there.

(Y/N)’s arms move across his chest and gently wrap themselves around his neck before her fingers start to delicately play with his hair.

He wonders if any person has ever felt the way he does in that moment. He wonders if maybe a poet or a writer or a musician has and if maybe they wrote a poem or a book or a song about it. Maybe that would help him understand. Maybe he could read it or listen to it and keep this moment captured in that piece of art forever. Because he fears that no memory can ever do justice to the way he feels when she moves closer.

When her hand cups his face when her nose nuzzles against his so gently as if she’s afraid he’ll pull away any second.

It’s just them and their wildly beating hearts and the woods providing them shelter and the water setting the scene and the stars shining down upon them.

It’s just them — until it isn’t.

“(Y/N), Bucky? You guys out there?” Robin's voice calls out into the night as her silhouette appears against the light coming from the porch of the Inn.

“Yes, it’s us. We’ll be right in.” (Y/N) calls back, having moved away slightly. The spell is broken and Bucky lifts his hand off of her, immediately missing the contact.

“It’s freezing, we should probably go inside.” She says and grants him a smile, though it doesn’t entirely reach her eyes and he can faintly see her shivering.

“Yeah let’s go. Get you warmed up.”

They don’t talk about their moment as they head inside and get swallowed by the group of people all hyped up with excitement for the coming day.

Bucky is sure though that as long as there are stars in the sky, he will not forget this moment however fleeting and insignificant it might seem.

TAGLIST FORM (fill this out to be added)

Taglist // if you want to be added or taken off just message me :) //:

@zaynyierulez - @je-like-you - @dracoxxyoflam - @jackiehollanderr - @majo240820 - @kay-gilles - @booksb4looksstuff - @jckie94 - @charmed-asylum - @shawnie--jo - @yllwtaxi - @tailsoflightning - @giuliarogers - @mangoogirl - @gerim-1995 - @elen-alambil - @threeminutesoflife - @writeroutoftime - @buckybarn3s - @rosaline-black - @kenziekugler22 - @vghz82 - @frnkensteingrl - @lovefreylove - @cherryofdeath - @bluemoon-icecream - @mariusprincess-blog -

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x freader #james barnes x f!reader #james barnes x reader #James Barnes x female reader #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction

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crescentsteel · 3 years

Text

Keeping a Secret - Part 2

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn warnings: lots of swear words, tsukki being a a closet softie wc: 6k (lol no chill as always)

[a/n]

Sorry for the delayed update. I added almost 1k words just to solidify the characters to give depth even more to the story. Feel free to reread. (It's totally not because I started a different series altogether.)

When I say this is slow burn, I meant sloooooooowww burn.

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist. :)

AO3

Part 1 || Part 3 || masterlist

What were you even thinking? Actually, why weren’t you? Had you used at least two brain cells of yours, you wouldn’t have momentarily lost your mind and kissed Tsukishima. You could’ve justified your actions if you were drunk, but you ingested not even an ounce of alcohol that night.

History will remember yesterday as the day a a sober you and a very displeased Tsukishima who found yourselves smooching publicly in the middle of a club. You’re just glad that no other member of the team goes to the same university you both go to. Else, you'd run the risk of getting seen.

Were so touch-deprived that you couldn’t resist even Tsukishima? And what about him? Why did he get along with it? You don’t think he actually hates you. Hate is such a strong word. He just exceedingly dislikes you. So why would he make out with you? Maybe he thought of it as a way of finally standing up to you?

Ugh.

You’re thankful that you didn’t have training yesterday. You were a mess the whole day trying to make sense of what happened. Not that you’re any better today; you’re still baffled as fuck. But you’re glad you had that day off so you wouldn’t have to face him immediately.

For the first time ever, you’re dreading going to the gym. Even if you’re tired or you lack sleep, you’ve never felt distressed as the manager of the Sendai Frogs. All this because of Tsukishima. But can you really put the blame on him when it was you who initiated it?

“Good morning, y/n,” Eiji, the captain of the team greets you.

“Morning, Eiji,” you say back. Even though he’s older than you, you dropped the salutations already, same with everybody else.

“You okay?” he asks worriedly.

“Oh! Yeah, absolutely! When am I ever not okay?” You toughen it up and erase the troublesome kiss in your head. You are their ever shining manager, first and foremost. Anything outside of that has no place in this gym.

“Never. It’s almost scary actually,” he answers with jest.

“Right? ‘Cause I’m a freaking goddess.”

He gives you a noble bow. “Indeed, you are, my lady.”

You giggle softly. Your players really are the best on and off the court (except for Tsukishima). “Go do your drills instead of buttering me up, ‘captain.’” He gives you a mock salute then jogs off towards the net.

“Y/n!”

You saunter off to your coach after you were called. “Yes, Coach?”

“Can you help tape the blockers?” You nod willingly, quickly discarding unnecessary thoughts of Tsukishima.

“Tsukishima’s free. Go start with him.”

You almost flinch upon hearing his name.

‘Great,’ you groan internally as you get the wrap from your kit and drag your feet toward the source of your uneasiness. But what did you expect? Of course, you’d have to deal with him sooner or later.

“Morning, Tsukishima,” you greet him with forced normalcy, acting like nothing’s wrong. As you take his left hand and you’re instantly reminded of what happened the other night -- how this hand gripped your waist while his mouth moved against yours… how his skin felt against the palm of your hand as he towered over you, body against body in a dance so dangerous and so hypnotizing that you lost yourself in the moment.

You tried your best to calm down yesterday, but seeing him right now makes you want to smack yourself from your momentary insanity that led you to kiss him.

Instead, you give him the nicest, brightest smile to channel your frustrations as you start taping his fingers. You just hope and pray that he doesn’t bring it up.

“Morning, manager .” It was an indirect jab at you. Even when he says it with a dead tone, you know he’s taunting you by addressing you as manager - a tortuous reminder that what happened last Saturday night wasn’t forgotten.

Instead of yielding to the provocation, you respond with your own. You might have messed up, but you’re not letting him get the upper hand. “How was your weekend, Tsukki?”

“Horrible,” he quickly answers without even thinking.

“Ditto. What happened to yours?” you ask with fake curiosity, already knowing why. Even if you didn’t kiss him then, he was already acting up like an angsty teen forced by his mom to attend a children’s party within the neighborhood.

“Went to a disgusting party.”

You nod pretentiously. “Mine’s horrible too. I got g-”

“I didn’t ask,” he interrupts.

“Well, you’re still going to hear it,” you respond just as distastefully as he cut you off. “I got groped by some perv, but I kinda punched some good manners unto him.” You release his left hand and take his right one to tape it as well.

“And?” He asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s it. After that, I just went home from how horrible the experience was.”

You look up to him, meeting his sardonic gaze paired with a raised eyebrow from what you just said. You know that he understood that you were referring to something else other than the perv incident as horrible.

“How about you? What happened to that disgusting party of yours?” you press on.

“I bumped into someone I didn’t really want to see.”

“And?”

“Do you really wanna know how horrible it was for me?” A smirk creeps up on the corner of his mouth as he asks. There were many times before that you’ve wanted a taste of Tsukishima’s vile sarcasm, just to know what he’d say to you. Today is not one of those times. You don’t want him using that reckless kiss against you.

“Actually, no. I don’t really care.” You let go of his hand you just finished working with and look around to look for anyone you could use as a distraction from Tsukishima’s attempt to retell the kiss from his perspective.

“Kogane!” you brightly call the setter as you bounce cheerfully towards him.

Even if you don’t show it, Tsukishima knows he’s gotten under your previously impenetrable thick skin. He detests what happened last Saturday. The more he remembers it, the more he abhors it. The only reason he’s not totally hating himself for getting swept along with your shit is because he knows you hated it too, probably more than he does since it was you who kissed him first.

His smug grin only spreads when you march to Kogane with that cutesy act you only show to players from opposing teams to unsettle them before matches. You take both Kogane’s hands and beam at him. “Do you want me to tape your fingers?”

“Y-you don’t have to, y/n. I can do it myself!” Kogane blurts out, panicking at your sudden closeness and physical touch.

“But I love taking care of you guys,” you pout at Kogane, which only makes the setter blush a shade almost close to red.

Tsukishima follows you to help his babbling, flustered teammate.

“You’re going to kill him, y/n,” he says as he passes by you and Kogane who now looks like he stopped functioning.

You blink at Kogane, realizing what you’re doing to the poor guy.

You must have been really bothered by Tsukishima and unknowingly projected it to someone else.

Tsukishima sneers as he sees you try to ease Kogane from his severe fluster but only make it worse by rubbing his shoulders.

A dash of pride and satisfaction swells on Tsukishima’s chest as he watches you get agitated with the situation you, yourself caused. Getting back at you feels even better than he imagined it would be.

Even though you and Tsukishima are in the same class, you don’t really notice his presence. Sometimes you’d even forget you’re classmates. Now, though, you are more aware of the fact that he’s actually there than you ever have.

“Alright, class. For your main project this semester, I’m going to have you partnered up. You need to come up with a comprehensive report on mating behavior of reptiles. I’ll randomly generate your assigned reptile.”

You groan. Another collaborative work in the same subject. You don’t like working with others because you don’t want to adapt to anyone’s schedule. You like to get things done ahead of time. You hate procrastinating because you don’t want your uni requirements getting mixed up with potential tasks from your managerial job, especially whenever tournament seasons come.

The last collaborative work you worked on is a group project where you did most of the work yourself. You wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t have fucking freeloaders as groupmates. The little shits made you do 90% of the project because you wanted it done early.

You just pray that this time, you get to be paired with someone responsible. You tap your pen on your desk while you wait for your name to be called.

“L/n and Tsukishima.”

You drop your pen at your professor’s announcement. It bounces twice on your desk before rolling to the floor, but you don’t move to pick it up. Your gaze immediately flies to where Tsukishima is seated and find him glaring at you already. You almost want to laugh at how ridiculous this entire situation is.

Seriously? Were you a serial killer in your previous life or something? Did some higher power decide to punish you for your grave sins like this?

Whatever. You’re not having any of this shit.

You wait until the class is over and approach your professor. “Sir. I’d like to do this project alone.” Or at least with someone else.

He continues to type something on his laptop, not bothering to look up at you, as he asks, “Why is that?”

“I just feel more comfortable doing things on my own, Sir. Please.” You try to give him your nice student smile but his eyes don't leave his screen.

“Then what? Have you increase my workload?”

Shit. You forgot that this particular professor of yours is known to not budge to anyone. You scramble your brain for another excuse.

“Sir. Can I do this project alone?” you suddenly hear Tsukihima’s voice behind you.

Finally, your professor closes his laptop and eyes you two unenthusiastically. “My answer is no to miss Y/n, so my answer to you, Mr. Tsukishima, is also no. I don’t know what the deal is between you two, but you’re doing this together.”

You can’t help but scowl despite being right in front of your professor. If it wasn’t for that darn kiss, you would’ve loved working with Tsukishima. Even though you don’t have the same classes, his schedule won’t be that hard to match up with because you two have the same training days. Secondly, he’s smart. You won’t have to carry the whole weight of the project.

“You know what, I’ll reconsider.” A glimmer of hope lights up in your chest as you hear your professor’s words. “I’ll allow you two to work individually — but with an automatic ten point deduction for this project.”

“No,” you and Tsukishima respond at the same time.

“Great! You’re already getting along swimmingly.” Your professor picks up his stuff and stands up. “Enjoy,” he waves a dismissive goodbye and leaves.

You slowly turn around to face Tsukishima and find that you share the same lour that he has. You cross your arms and lean on your professor’s desk. “Guess we’re together, Tsukishima.”

You allowed yourself one week to compose yourself before you agreed to start the project with Tsukishima. You still saw him at training days, and even then, you tried to have the least amount of interaction with him so the ‘incident’ wouldn’t be brought up again. Meeting him for a project where it’s just you two is different and you needed time.

As much as you don’t want to be with him, you told yourself that it’ll be over soon. You just pushed the kiss in the back of your head and convinced yourself that it was just a stupid kiss. It didn’t mean anything. He probably just went along with it out of spite, so it’s best you think of it as a spur of the moment madness. That way, you won’t be bothered if he sordidly brings it up again. At least now, you can go back to your usual, cheeky self around him.

You’re about to text Tsukishima that you’ve arrived at the station you agreed to meet up at but you already see him there standing while he’s scrolling his phone with his usual white headphones on.

Unfortunately for you and him, the reptile assigned to you two are crocodiles. It’s the worst possible assignment you could get among the roster of reptiles assigned. You need to travel all the way to Wakabayashi for a legitimate crocodile farm to observe, compared to other reptiles which are easily accessible with nearby zoos in Miyagi. You just pray that you’ll only need this one trip to get all the data you need for your report.

You walk towards him and instantly regard how he looks. Despite being in the same university, you don’t see him around much. Even in your sole class together, you’re seated way too apart from each other to even look at each other’s direction. Not that being seated beside each other would’ve made a difference. You’re not friends. There’s no need to talk to him since everything that’s volleyball-related is relayed through line. To you, he’s just one of your players. As far as you’re concerned, the only Tsukishima you’re aware of is the one sweating his white shirt and training shorts during practice.

To have this much involvement with him outside the gym is throwing you out of your usual loop. You continue studying him at a distance. Today he’s wearing white plaid pants, black turtleneck (probably long sleeves) with a lighter shade of black coat on top, and a brown wool scarf. He also has a gray bonnet that makes his blonde locks frame his face nicely.

What the heck? Did he always dress like this even in class? How come you never noticed?

He finally notices you. He puts down his phone and removes his headphones. “How long have you been there?”

“Wow, Tsukishima. You look kinda hot,” you blurt out without thinking.

His eyes expand at your statement that came out of nowhere. “Huh?!”

“Oh, sorry. That must’ve been random. But you look really good though. I kinda feel like I’m meeting a date,” you say with objective candor as you continue to stare at him.

That catches him completely off guard. The other day you’re on the edge around him. You weren’t even paying much attention to him during training, but now you’re back to being a headache whose mouth knows no bounds as you faze him with your unfiltered thoughts. Now, it’s him who is uncomfortable again with your thorough eyes scanning him approvingly.

“As if I’d ever date you,” he snaps back at your remark to which you scoff at.

“I didn’t say you would. Maybe you’re forgetting, I’d never go out with a member of the team.”

“Right. But kissing one is totally fine, huh?” he retaliates in an instant with a condescending look. He waits for your reaction, eager to see you distraught and bothered by it. To his dissatisfaction, you don’t behave in such a way. Instead, you sigh defeatedly.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I got a little crazy that night,” you say casually to a degree that you sounded like it was just a petty accident. “You kissed me back, so I’m sure you were too. Right?”

The last word is conniving, and he can tell why you phrased it that way. You’re leaving him no choice but to disregard what happened or else it’s going to seem like it meant something to him. The hell it does. It simply resurfaces back on his mind sometimes because of how unpleasant the memory is.

‘Devious woman,’ he snarls in his head.

It should be okay. Your reason for what you did can also be his excuse for how responded to it. What he didn’t like is that he hasn’t even managed to make the most out of that incident, while you immediately found a way to undo the grave you dug for him to bury you into.

Plus, the only advantage he sees out of partnering with you for this project is the possibility of being able to pester you the way you pester him during practice. Obviously, that’s already thrown off the window. Now, there’s nothing in it for him for the duration of the project. He is left with nothing but the fact that he has to endure your company. To think that he’s already so miserable when this afternoon has barely even started.

“Yeah,” he answers with contained resentment. “Can we go on the bus now?” He asks to deviate away from the topic already. He was hoping he could still use the incident to unnerve you, but it’s for naught now.

He enters the bus first and assumes you’ll follow him, which you do as you take your seat beside him. You get your shoulder bag and take out a notebook.

“Can you take a look at this outline I made for our report?” you ask while you hand him your notebook opened at a certain page.

“I can’t read while the bus is moving,” he says then waits for a lame comeback from you. But you don’t comment about it. Why must you keep on being such a wildcard?

“Ah, okay. I’ll just tell it to you then,” you smile at him. “This trip is going to take long. It’d be a waste of time to not make use of it, right?”

He groans internally. Why must you be right all the fucking time?

He also made an outline last night, but he didn’t tell you because he thought it’d be better if he just did the data-gathering himself and let you take the pictures the report should have. He forgot that you’re not as irresponsible and carefree as you present yourself to be.

He listens to you explain your outline, looking for flaws in it for the sake of his grade and also for his self-satisfaction. And he does find a few.

“You should have separate discussion points for mating characteristics for male and females. I’m sure they have distinct traits. Also, I think we should include more than just one species, preferably three if the farm has it.” He continues, “Maybe we can note certain unique behaviors per species. It would be inconclusive, but it would still be nice to include it as a commentary.”

He hopes to extract even just a tiny hint of embarrassment from you for he’s thought of it better than you did. But you just stare at him for a good few seconds before you break into a dazzled smile.

“Oh my God. Yeah, you’re absolutely right!”

You open your notebook and scribble the changes in your drafted outline. “Is there anything else?” You consult him genuinely. You accept his criticisms with an open mind, which vexes him even more.

“Nothing,” he grumbles.

“Alright. Let’s just revise it again once we see what’s on the farm.”

He doesn’t bother replying anymore since you’re once again right.

He puts on his headphones again to drown out whatever chatter you plan to have with him since you’re done discussing the project for now. Instead of bugging him, you take out a bunch of readings and focus on them intently, completely ignoring him.

With nothing to entertain him aside from the music on his ears, his peripheral keeps going back to you and how hard you’re concentrating with the papers in your one hand and a pen in the other.

He removes one muff of his headphone from his ear and asks you, “Don’t you get motion sickness?”

You really must be into what you’re studying because you flinch when he speaks, causing you to drop your pen.

He feels responsible for it so he leans down to pick it up, but you also do the same. As you both reach down to grab your pen, your temple collides with his.

“Ow,” your fingers go to massage the spot, failing to notice as he does that your faces are too close for comfort. He watches you wince for a quick while before looking at him, finally realizing that he’s within a proximity familiar to you both.

It’s reminiscent of that night except this time, the natural light affirms that it wasn’t just the ambiance of the club that made you attractive enough to pull him in and share that heinous kiss. With your well-lit features, he can see that you’re thinking about the same thing he is.

Your eyes fall on his lips and for some illogical reason, he does the same.

Like last time, you’re the first to act on it. The major difference is, instead of leaning in, you retreat. You sit up straight with your fingers still on the side of your head and smile graciously at him. “It’s fine, Tsukishima. I’ll get it,” you say, which he finds half-witted because he’s still bent down and he can already grasp the pen.

He sits back up and hands you your pen. You use the hand on your temple to get it.

“Oh, thanks.” You stare at the pen for a second, then tuck it in your pocket. “Anyways, yeah. I don’t have problems reading in a moving vehicle.”

You dive back to his question and disregard what just happened. It works for him. He’d rather not think about it as well.

“Have you not seen me scrambling paperwork on our bus rides to and from tournaments?”

“No.” He prefers not to pay attention to you. Hell, he pretends you don’t exist when he can. So naturally, he doesn’t know what it is you do when you’re not being your pestering self. It pains him to admit it, but you do get shit done -- efficiently, too. He should be glad because at least, you won’t be like his previous groupmates.

Still, just you being … you, ticks him off.

You laugh out of nowhere. “For someone who doesn’t speak much, you’re so fucking transparent.”

He frowns, not being able to grasp what you meant.

“Okay, look. I like pissing you off. I really do. And you, you don’t like me a lot. But for this project. Can we pretend that I’m not your annoying manager and you’re not the nasty Tsukishima I know?”

“How the fuck can I do that when we see each other almost everyday as such?”

You roll your eyes and smirk. “Right. What was I even thinking? Go ahead and be emo with your music over there while I study here, yeah?” You pat him on the shoulders twice with that patronizing grin you always give him before pulling your pen back from your pocket and focusing once more on your readings, completely paying no attention to him for the rest of the trip.

—

As soon as you reach the crocodile farm, Tsukishima suggests that you two roam the area separately to cover more ground. In reality, he just wanted to get rid of you even for just a few minutes. He needed a break from you.

He does so by taking his time strolling around the place, observing how the area is situated. It looks like a park with its vast lush green environment and man-made waters to habituate the crocodiles. There are four main areas: the museum, the hatchling house, the zoo, and the breeding pens. He first goes to the museum, looking at the skeletal structure of some crocodiles. It isn’t really significant to the project but he can’t help admire it.

When he realizes that he’s taking longer than he initially thought, he starts looking for you. He sends you a text, but you don’t reply. You had gone to the zoo’s direction so he assumes you’re somewhere around that area.

When he does find you, you’re not alone.

There you are near a crocodile pen, getting friendly with a guy he’s sure you just met.

It’s so familiar. The only difference is that you’re not wearing the Frogs’ jacket and you’re not in the Sendai gymnasium. He walks towards your direction, not caring if he’s going to cut off your little chat. You’re there for the project, not to snag some random bozo.

As he closes in behind you, he hears your conversation.

“Actually, birds are more closely related to dinosaurs than crocodiles. You couldn’t tell, right?” you explain with zeal.

Tsukishima stops in his tracks at the foreign feeling in his chest. Wait a minute. Is he actually impressed? Moreover, what the heck is he impressed for? You should know that. You are both in a higher herpetology class. Even though it hasn’t been discussed during lectures, it’s natural that you know that. However, the guy you’re talking with isn't as enthusiastic.

“Can’t blame you though. Crocs and dinos share the same sexy vibe with those chill eyes and scaly skin. Also, look at those smokin webbed feet. Fucking work of art, dude. You feel me?” you press on fanatically.

The stranger looks at you with a forced smile, obviously weirded out by your ‘passionate’ description of the reptile. “Yeah, sure. I have to go now. Bye,” the guy bows and storms away from you.

You turn your attention back to the lowered pen in front of you with a satisfied smile and shudder when you see Tsukishima already there beside you.

“Gah! You scared me. Why didn’t you say anything?” you ask with your hand still on your chest.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you creeping out that stranger.”

You tither at his answer. “Glad you didn’t. It was fun seeing him all freaked out.”

He finds it weird. He thought you just had an aversion towards athletes. That’s why you keep driving away anyone who’d approach you during matches. Apparently, that’s not the case.

“He looked like he’d follow you back to Miyagi if you didn’t go all freaky nerdy on him.”

You jeer at his comment. “He could follow me to the ends of the Earth and I still wouldn’t give him my number. I’d rather date Mr. Crocodylus siamensis over here than boring dum dums blinded by how hot I am.”

“Then why do you entertain them?” he follows up.

“Caaaauuusse it’s fun to see them squirm,” you declare cheerfully as you veer your gaze at him. “Why the sudden interest with the way I handle men, Tsukishima?”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your lips tugging up to form a playful smirk. “Don’t tell me you suddenly find me interesting?”

You really do know how to push the right buttons to provoke him. He grits his teeth from your audacity.

“I’m joking for fuck’s sake! My god. I already know that even if it’s just the two of us on this planet, and we’d have to procreate to restart the world population, you’d rather choose to doom humanity than have anything to do with me.”

Among all the correct things that came out of your mouth, that was the only thing he could verbally agree with. “Good you know,” he retorts.

You don’t seem to take offense though. You still keep your unwavering smile as you get your phone out and take a picture of the Borneo crocodile.

“Should we go see the breeding pens now?” you ask nonchalantly, dismissing the previous conversation like it was nothing.

You both decide to hire a designated tour guide to assist you while you observe the crocodiles, particularly the ones for breeding.

“Hi, Ms. l/n. I’m Sara and I will be your guide for today,” she introduced herself with a dedicated smile.

“I’m so thrilled that you and your boyfriend decided to learn more about crocodiles for your date,” she adds.

You and Tsukishima glance at each other before turning back to her.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” “He’s not my boyfriend.”

You both say simultaneously, except yours sounded like a friendly correction while his sounded like a dead announcement.

“We’re just classmates for a project,” you correct her.

She bows apologetically with embarrassment and worry. “I’m so sorry for assuming that.”

“No worries, Sara,” you reassure her before Tsukishima says something unnecessary. “Can you lead us on the breeding pens? We’d like to observe the whole thing.”

“Of course. Right this way.”

Aside from the mishap earlier, you find Sara competent at her job as she fills you in with details not included in the sign boards in the pens. She gives you information about the mating process that you didn’t find when you researched about the subject. You assume Tsukishima’s thinking the same because he doesn’t say anything out of the blue.

“By any chance, will we see a pair mating today?” he asks after a while.

“I’m not really sure, Mr. Tsukishima. It’s really up to the animals.”

You tug on Tsukishima’s sleeve when you catch sight of one crocodile latching himself on top of another.

“What?” he asks irritatedly, but follows your line of sight.

“Oh, lucky. There you go.” Sara announces with a pleasant smile.

You get your phone and your notes. You multitask listening to Sara, taking photos, and scribbling notes on your paper pad.

On the other hand, Tsukishima multitasks observing the crocodiles in action and observing you.

You’re asking important questions to the guide while juggling other tasks. Yes, he doesn’t like you and loathes being partnered with you. However, that doesn't mean he won’t cooperate with you. He won’t mind if you ask him for help, but you seem to have even forgotten that he’s there.

He grabs your phone from your hand, garnering a confused look from you.

“I’ll take the photos. You take down notes.”

You flash him an honest, grateful smile. “Thanks, Tsukishima.”

Then, you proceed with the things you’re doing more at ease.

He can’t tell who he’s more pissed at, you or himself. Something about that display of productivity and wit unnerves him. It’s as if it’s telling him that his chagrin over you is unreasonable because you’re actually reliable when it counts. What’s worse is you’re completely oblivious to it. In fact, you’re almost ignoring him.

Goddamn it. What’s he doing? He’s completely distracted now from the project and is solely focused on you. He quickly shakes it off and calms himself down. His attention should be on the reptiles, not you.

He turns his attention back to the crocodiles, but the mating act only lasted a few minutes. After that, you both barrage Sara with an array of questions that she looked too overwhelmed by the end of your tour.

You’ve covered almost everything for the day and it’s already around 6 in the evening when you get on a bus on the way back to Miyagi.

“That was fun!” you comment ardently with an abnormal shine on your face when you sit down on the bus on the way back. He wears his headphones on before you start a conversation he’s not willing to have. From his peripheral, he sees you turning to him and as he predicted, your mouth begins moving while you animatedly narrate words he could not hear.

He’s already acting as if he can’t hear nor see you, but you still don’t stop. Knowing you, you will not stop until you make sure he notices you. He wearily removes his headphones only to see you not saying anything and only mouthing words with hand gestures.

“Seriously?” He scowls at you. He’s already exhausted at having to deal with you even for just half a day, but you still have the energy to mess with him.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you snicker but it erupts into a hoot of laughter shortly. You gasp ridiculously after you ride out your stupid amusement from poking at his patience. “Tsukki, I swear to God. You make the best faces,” you say while wiping away your joyous tears.

“Were you even going to say something worth listening to?” he questions sourly.

You study him then shake your head. “I think you’re tired, so let’s just discuss what we gathered next time. You can go ignore me now,” you tell him with an understanding smile despite the slight banter.

You tilt your body in his direction and hoist yourself up a bit to put his headphones back yourself like it’s no big deal.

You settle back into your seat while he stills on his seat, stunned with what you just did while you get your readings again and shrink to your own bubble. You don’t seem to make anything of it, so he doesn’t as well. It was very you to mindlessly get on anyone’s — particularly his — personal space anyways.

He increases the volume of his headphones and tries to relax. Yet, his attention keeps swerving back at you every now and then. You’re really concentrating hard with your brows burrowed while you stare at your hand-outs. After a while, he notices you bobbing your head from the corners of his eyes.

He can tell you’re as tired as he is and trying hard to fight the sleep that’s taking over you. The bunch of papers you previously held are now clutched on your lap.

On the last bob of your head, you snap out of it. You blink repeatedly and return your eyes to your readings again. To no avail, you’re shutting down with your eyes fluttering when you try again. You look like you decided to give it a rest and put your papers back in your bag. You cross your arms and lean back to your seat.

He feels relieved that you finally yield to your physical exhaustion. He doesn’t need an additional bullet point to his list of why he can’t fully hate you. Also, you won’t run your mouth at him if you’re asleep.

He feels the soft thump of your head on his shoulder. You probably did too as you suddenly bolt up and tell him ‘sorry' which he only understands based on how you mouthed the word. You lean back again and try to settle back to sleep. But when you start dozing off, you sway to the other side of your seat which is the aisle of the bus.

He grabs your shoulder to prevent you from tumbling down to the aisle. Your disoriented self looks around, alarmed at his sudden touch.

“Just fucking lean on me,” he spits out, irked that he has to say it out loud. It’s not like he pushed you away. You could’ve just stayed as you were and he would’ve turned a blind eye at it out of recognition of the effort you put in today. He’d just consider it one of those times that you do something annoying and he just ignores you as a response.

You regard him with dazed eyes. You open your mouth as if you’re about to say something but decide against it as you shut your eyes again and you let your head rest on his shoulder. But even then, your head still falls forward from time to time. He puts a hand on your forehead to settle you back on his shoulder and slides a bit downward on his seat to accommodate you.

Jesus Christ, you can study in a moving vehicle but can’t even do a simple thing like sleep properly on it. Why does he even have to adjust for you?

He heaves furiously in contrast to your steady breathing, letting him know that you’re easing deeper to your sleep.

He distracts himself by looking at the window, witnessing the unmoving dark sky and the changing scenery below. He lets out a sigh.

Maybe he should’ve just accepted the ten point deduction.

Part 1 || Part 3 || masterlist

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged - pls check your settings?)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai @celestialarchiveshq @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu

#tsukishima x reader #haikyuu fluff #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #tsukishima smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu angst #tsukishima kei #for the love of kami-sama #pls let the tags work

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itsallmightbitch · 4 years

Text

Stitches (Part Two)

Ya’ll, I wasn’t planning on posting this yet but when I actually checked, I realised that if I didn’t- Part Two was going to be over 12,000 words. So I had to split it again. So, you can look forward to a Part Three! I also, sort of, accidentally maybe, wrote a teeny tiny lil’ bit of plot.

Tagged: @kittygonyan @mrsreina (If you’d like to be tagged in Part Three, give me a shout!)

Pairing: Villain!AllMight x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Blood, Swearing, Threats of Non-Con (Not made by our boy All Might and not said explicitly though).

Word Count: 6800+

Summary: A phone call makes you question just how the biggest bad in Japan feels about you. You discover just how All Might was injured and things get just a lil’ bit steamy.

---------------------

He was gone for over half an hour and you’d spent that time preparing the dressings you’d need for him. The wound was in a semi awkward place- just below the dip of his collarbone, so you’d had to dig out the gauze tape.

All the while, you attempted to calm the rapid, dizzying beat of your heart.

Those damn breathing exercises that Ivy had taught you were doing jack shit, especially with the feeling of his hands still imprinted firmly on your hips.

Were you really going to do this tonight?

It wasn’t as though you hadn’t danced around him for months now, the unyielding pull of his orbit spinning you closer and closer until the inevitable collision. But as you stood on the precipice, feet towing the line and looking into the abyss… there was still some trepidation.

Was he just doing this to prove that he could get into your pants?

Where the hell would it even go? He was, at his core, a villain and nothing you could do or say would ever change his nature.

Not that you would want to. You weren’t here to ‘fix’ him in any other way but physically.

Yet, despite all of the reservations that swam in your head, you couldn’t deny the chemistry that had always bubbled between you. Especially in those moments that you forgot just who he was and he was just idling around your apartment with you. Those moments made you just as hot as when you saw him pummelling some wannabe hero on TV.

Making him coffee while he fixed your kitchen sink. Actually… finding out that he could fix a kitchen sink had been jarring enough. Bickering over which movie to watch, when you knew he was going to win like he always did- but arguing with him for the fun of it anyway.

That day you’d found out that he did a fucking wicked impression of Endeavor and you’d howled with laughter- then caught him looking immensely proud of himself afterwards.

Even now, the memory of it made your lips quirk in a stupid smile.

Seeing that side of him made it so easy to separate him from the man the rest of the world saw. They weren’t privy to all the things that made him unique. Would it really be so wrong of you to give in?

The filthy promise he’d made still rang in your ears.

Slow, hard and all night long. Your thighs clenched in anticipation.

Your phone buzzed cheerily on the side table and the coffee you’d made for yourself in his absence sloshed against the side of the mug when you jumped.

An unknown number usually meant one of two things. Either All Might was calling you to ask how to perform some horrible mutilation on a person without them losing too much blood- or Ivy was calling for a chat.

Since the former was currently using up all of your hot water- seriously, thirty five minutes now- you correctly guessed that it was the latter. You answered, immediately perking up at the sound of her voice.

“Babes, is that beefy idiot of yours there? His little henchmen have been tearing apart half of the city trying to find him,” she said, not even bothering with hello. You tutted. Of course he’d just up and vanished without giving anyone a hint that he was okay.

“Hi Ivy,” you said pointedly and you could almost hear her roll her eyes at your insistence of politeness. “Yeah, he’s here.”

She grumbled.

“Ugh, will you please tell him to call off his goons before I have to kill any more of them for disrespecting me,” she said, like murdering henchmen was all too taxing for her. You knew differently. She was probably enjoying the change of pace. You half smiled, shaking your head.

What exactly was your life? Passing messages between villains like some kind of sentient answering machine.

“Hold on. He’s in the shower,” you said, escaping the soft light of the living room and heading in the direction of the still -goddamn it- running water. His clothes were piled where you’d told him to leave them and you were oddly touched to find that he’d arranged them in a way that the bloodied parts weren’t on your carpet.

He could be considerate when he wanted to be.

Biting your lip, you eventually worked up the courage and knocked on the door. You knew that he was grinning from ear to ear, probably expecting you to barge in and simply toss your panties over your shoulder while you were at it.

Hmm. There was plenty of time for that later.

“Did you miss me already, sweet thing? Am I that irresistible?” he said, his tone all deep and buttery and the image of him stark naked and soaking wet stole your voice for a moment. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was taking so long because he was- taking care of himself.

Your stomach whirled pleasantly at the thought of him stroking a hand along his thick-

“Hey! Don’t forget to tell him that they have like, zero manners. I’m appalled at how rude they all are. This is no way to treat a lady!”

Ivy’s irritated voice turned away from the phone for a moment. A crunch and a half-halted scream told you that she was more than handling herself against All Might’s minions.

You licked your bottom lip, squeezing your eyes shut and trying not to picture him behind the damn door again. Otherwise you’d never get out the words you needed to say. You’d get your chance to join him later, when your dumb obligation as his doctor wasn’t coming first.

“Um, Ivy says your little minions are out of control again. You might want to deal with that, big guy,” you informed him and you heard him swear loudly, a colourful mix of words that would have made a sailor blush.

The water, at long last, shut off.

You hadn’t really considered what would come next, despite the fact that he’d clearly left his pants- and by extension- phone right next to where you were standing.

The door opened and you suddenly had a face full of muscular, soaking wet chest. You barely even noticed his smug expression, too busy trailing your eyes down and focusing with laser like precision on the trail of blond hair that started at his bellybutton and vanished underneath his towel.

All Might had a fucking happy trail. How had you not noticed it earlier?

Oh yeah. All the blood.

You had died. You were dead and buried and this was Heaven and of course your version of Heaven would have a soaking wet, naked super villain in it.

Every brain function ceased and all you could register was the heat of the steam billowing out from behind him and the aching urge you now felt to catch the lone water droplet that was rolling down along his abdomen with your tongue.

It dipped into his bellybutton then out again, before soaking into the towel that he’d slung low around his hips.

“You know, as much as I’m enjoying your reaction sweetheart,” he rumbled, openly amused by your gaping, idiotic staring. “I do need my phone before I lose any more men to the sewer rat.”

“I fucking heard that, you jackass!” Ivy screeched and you were brought back to reality, aware that your face was now glowing red.

He leaned down past you and fished his phone from his pants pocket and you could feel the sweet, water warmed heat of his skin as he passed so close to you. You resisted the urge you suddenly felt to throw your legs over your head.

You didn’t even know if your legs could do that and Ivy might not appreciate having to wait any longer for a reprieve.

When he straightened up, he grinned at you and it was… different than his usual cocky smiles. This one was toothy and almost soft and his free hand came up to your chin, gripping it much like he had earlier. Except this time, it wasn’t to threaten you.

It was to bring your lips to his in a nipping, hard kiss that took the air out of your lungs.

Hnnng.

“Soon kitten,” he murmured, biting your bottom lip once more playfully. “Don’t forget, this was your bright idea.”

He winked at you before retreating back into the bathroom. You remained standing on the other side of the door for a long moment, cursing yourself for being so worried about him when you could be splayed out underneath him right now- morals be damned.

You only remembered that Ivy was still on the line when you heard her voice asking if everything was okay.

Fuck, it was more than okay. Not long from now, you were going to have that between your legs. More than ever you wished you hadn’t skipped all those yoga classes because this was going to be... challenging.

Said legs carried you shakily back down the hall and away from the temptation to break the door down while you waved your bra over your head.

Sexy.

“He’s um- he’s calling someone now,” you cleared your throat, choosing not to sit on your bloodied couch and instead canting your hip against your dining table. “Sorry Ives. If I’d have known he was AWOL I’d have made him call sooner. I know what those idiots are like…”

His henchmen were notorious for running riot without him there to rein them in. He was, surprisingly, like seventy three percent of their impulse control. It was a shame he lacked any himself.

“You know, I’m not even surprised any more,” she tutted. “He could have at least let one of his lackey’s know before he went and squared up against- wait-” Her voice paused just as she reached the bloody good bit and you fought the urge to interrupt. “Maybe he’s been too busy to phone anyone… Wanna tell me what you’ve been up to?”

Ivy knew what had gone down tonight by the sound of it. But she was also distracted and you knew you would get nowhere without indulging her curiosity first.

“Oh yeah, he’s been super busy getting a big ass gash on his shoulder stitched up. Not much time for phone calls,” you hedged slyly. Ivy didn’t need to know he’d also been busy with his mouth on your neck while you attempted not to moan like a a porn star. Definitely a detail that could be left out.

“Not going to lie sweets, I was convinced you were going to say getting a blowjob.”

“Fucking hell, Ivy.”

“What!? There’s nothing wrong with getting busy after a life threatening situation. I’m amazed that you both have so much restraint,” she said and despite your irritation over these villains all up in your personal life, you couldn’t find it in yourself to disagree with her out loud. “You said he was all sliced up? Did he tell you how he got it?”

Interest?

Piqued.

“No! He’s being really secretive about it,” you said hurriedly as though Ivy would hang up on you at any second. She wouldn’t but you were far too eager to hear this story and your brain refused to function normally. “Do you know?”

“I’m not technically supposed to, but well… henchmen talk darling, especially under the threat of pain…”

“Ivy spill,” you said, dragging the word out into a whine. Ivy loved to tell a tale but you were impatient now. You wanted to hear what had happened before he came out of the shower. Not just because you didn’t want him to catch you snooping in his business but also because there was the promise of fantastic sex to come too.

“Oh sweets, do I have a story for you,” Ivy squealed gleefully. Your heart beat hard in your chest in anticipation and you hoped that she wouldn’t drag it out too much. “I hope you’re sitting down for this because it’s just, mwah-” she made a kissing noise and you snorted.

“Ivy, come on. While I’m still young.”

“Tut tut, there’s no rushing a good thing. Or do you like it fast?” she teased, flirtatiously.

You rolled your eyes and tutted into the phone, not in the mood to be teased. At least… not by Ivy.

You checked over your shoulder- in case All Might had snuck up on you or was lurking in the doorway. He had a habit of doing that, just to make you jump. But he was nowhere to be seen, probably still on the phone, berating one of his second in command for their bad behaviour.

You hoped it was Shigaraki getting a talking to. That guy gave you nothing but bad vibes.

“So, I take it you remember last week, when you and I dished about that weirdo you treated? You know Hinata Cash?” she said his name almost cautiously as if worried that being too quick would bring back the memories before you would be able to handle them.

You made a strangled noise that could have been agreement as your brief but memorable encounter with Hinata Cash came rushing back from the deep, dark part of your memories that you’d shoved it into.

A chill raced along your spine.

“Are you okay, sweets?” Ivy asked cautiously.

“M’fine,” you said, clearing your throat. You wouldn’t let the mere mention of the creep make you uncomfortable. Ivy still paused until you reaffirmed that you were okay with talking about him though. “What about him? Is he still being a disturbing son of a bitch?”

Your bravado was all show. You both knew it, but Ivy continued like she bought into your act.

“Well, it turns out he was quite the talking point in some circles... Not enough to play with the big boys like your honey bun,” she said, probably giving the phone a shit eating grin. You didn’t even berate her for it and the teasing tone she’d aimed for fell away awkwardly. “But he was doing enough to get himself noticed. He’d started coming in to the Golden Cat on weekends. A few of the girls there told me about him…”

“All good things, I bet,” you said, rubbing your arm nervously. There was really no reason to feel nervous, not with your door locked and All Might in your bathroom, but that didn’t stop tendrils of unease winding around your neck.

“He started going by Scissorhands- Ugh, it was tacky if you ask me,” she sniffed primly. Never let anyone tell you that Ivy wasn’t a class act, you thought fondly. Still, the name made your insides twist uncomfortably. From what you’d seen on the snippets of news reports that day- he’d certainly lived up to his chosen name.

You had never been truly frightened in all the years that you’d been treating criminals. Even during that first meeting with All Might, you had never felt like you were in any immediate danger- so long as you kept your mouth shut and remained respectful.

But Cash…

He was the type to cut your throat because he didn’t like the colour of your curtains or some shit.

His entire visit had deeply unsettled you and set you on edge for days afterwards. Even now, despite the fact that he hadn’t delivered on his ‘promise’, you couldn’t really settle.

Every movement he’d made that day, every little twitch of his hands had caused your body to recoil and had it not been for the tight hold you had over your Quirk, you might have done more harm than good.

Thankfully, it had been a straight forward procedure but from the way your body trembled, you’d have thought it was your very first time all over again. He’d picked up on your nerves from the moment he’d sat down, leering whenever you flinched.

Glass and debris had become embedded directly under his left eye from the bank robbery he’d partaken in, just hours before. It had been on the Channel Five news, which was partly why you were so on edge. His fingers had still been bloody from the security guard he’d literally torn apart.

Heavy set, with wide shoulders and contrasting sharp features, you knew that had he made a move that day, you wouldn’t have had a chance to fight him off.

The shaking of your hands had thankfully been negated by your Quirk.

Precision wasn’t the most amazing Quirk in the world but it was particularly useful in your line of work. Being able to hit your target despite the shaking of your hands had saved you precious time.

Quick, yet terrified, you’d cleaned up his face and as politely as you could, tried to see him out. But his hand had clamped down on your thigh, too high for comfort and your whole body froze- your eyes staring unseeingly past him.

You couldn’t breathe in anything more than quick, frightened gasps. He seemed to revel in them.

You felt like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf, seconds before the deadly bite.

He’d leaned in close, his breath repulsive and sour and you’d thought of a million ways to escape in those few seconds- none of them even remotely useful.

“I really appreciate this, Doc. It’s hard to find a woman with steady hands like yours...”

He had lifted one of them, examining it.

“Wonderful quirk. So useful... I can see why All Might likes you so much. I think I quite like you too.”

You had prepared for the worst. Mentally written your last will and testament and prayed to God that when he was finished with you he would just leave Marco be- the thought of him harming your cat suddenly far more prevalent in your mind than what was going to happen to you.

Strangely though, he’d simply gotten up from the chair, stroked your cheek as you sat there like a statue and then let himself out. Not before throwing his parting remark over his shoulder, though. The one that had been haunting you all week.

“I’ll see you again real soon, honey.”

Naturally, you hadn’t gone after him for the payment he’d skimped out on.

Hell to the no. Instead, you’d locked your front door, hyperventilated for a good fifteen minutes on your living room floor and then much to your embarrassment… you’d called All Might.

For the first time ever.

You had passed the call off as some dumb suggestion that he come over for pizza and a movie, like you were best friends and not potential-fuck-buddies. You hadn’t even had the strength to hide the tremble in your voice, nor the will to throw in any bravado. It had been a brutally honest call- one that you had never wanted to make.

It was like letting him see the real you. Removing that final barrier between you that might hold you back from feeling anything real. That conversation had changed something, you thought. Something deep.

“H-Hey! I know I never call like this but... I-I… Could you come over?”

Your voice had been small and shaky, with you on the verge of tears- even though you would rather die than let them fall over someone so vile.

There had been a pause on the other end, mid-way through whatever sarcastic thing he’d been about to berate you with.

“Please?”

You had added that without even thinking about it, voice catching and the grip of Cash’s hand still burning on your thigh. You had thought, in that silence, that he was going to brush you off. Either that or demand to know what was wrong. Thankfully, he did neither.

“Ten minutes.”

The longest ten minutes of your life. He had found you pacing a hole in the floor of your living room and petting the ever-loving bejesus out of Marco- stressed to the max. You’d locked eyes with him and he hadn’t even had to ask if you were glad to see him. Your face said it all.

He hadn’t asked what had happened and you hadn’t told him… but he’d stayed anyway. A real villain, that one.

“Sounds about right to me,” you scoffed, tone disgusted at the thought of that… that man. “Ives, I don’t scare easily, you know that... but I know full well what he wanted and it wasn’t a back rub. What does this have to do with why All Might turned up injured?”

You felt unsettled at having him brought up out of the blue. You’d been quite happy to forget all about him and the way that his gaze had made your skin crawl.

“Everything. The word should be getting out any minute now, about our dear departed Tim Burton knockoff.”

You paused, startled and unsure if you’d heard her right.

“Departed?”

“Oh, he’s very, very dead darling,” Ivy said lightly, as if she was just telling you the weather for the day.

The relief that washed over you was momentous and almost made your knees give way, causing you to grip the table for support. He was dead. You were free of the lurking shadow of fear that plagued your days and nights. The one that robbed you of decent sleep because you were jumping at every little noise in your apartment.

“Is it bad that I just wanna say ‘Oh thank God’?” you replied, breath knocked from you. Ivy laughed. She sounded just as pleased as you felt.

“You won’t be the only one, I’m sure. He must have put up a halfway decent fight, if it took you that long to stitch up a little old cut,” she said, pointedly as though waiting for you to work things out. She was probably disappointed that she didn’t get to see your reaction when you did.

Oh. Holy shit.

“All Might killed him!?” you squeaked, then lowered your voice drastically in case he heard you. “Are you fucking with me right now, Ivy? Because that’s not cool.”

You didn’t really know how to feel about it, if it was true. You were more than relieved that the looming shadow of Cash was gone forever but regretful that somehow, All Might had found out what you’d tried to keep from him and had gotten himself hurt in the process of doing something about it.

“It’s true,” she said, confirming it. “You and I both know I hate giving that overrated blowhard any credit… but something had to be done about him. Cash had it coming, either way. There are plenty of girls at the Golden Cat who’ll be glad to see him gone.”

You swallowed hard. Your silence was more you being concerned over All Might’s well being than over the fact that he had killed a man tonight. He’d killed plenty of people in the time you’d known him.

That wasn’t about to destroy the image of him that you had.

It was more the deep seated worry that always gripped you when he was involved in something dangerous. Usually, you could worry yourself sick over the news broadcast and at least then, if anything happened, you would know.

But tonight, he’d gone out there and gone one on one with a man who could rip people apart from the inside out- and you hadn’t even known. What if he’d never come back? What if he’d died because of you and word would get back to you, weeks down the line that you would never see him again?

Something horrid lodged in your stomach.

“Won’t he get heat from other villains?” you asked to distract yourself, rubbing the top of Marco’s head as he trotted past- blissfully unaware of your minor breakdown. “Isn’t there some… I dunno… Code of conduct or something? Honour among thieves?”

Ivy snorted, obviously amused at your blatant lack of knowledge. You would think that someone as deep into the criminal underworld as you were would at least know a little about how things operated. But no.

You chose to remain blissfully ignorant.

“Hmm, well here’s the thing. The King makes the rules and All Might, well… as much as I’m loathe to admit it, he wears the crown babes. Who the Hell is going to argue with him?” she asked and you bit your lip, the fear of retaliation lessening.

It was no secret that he was both feared and respected- enough to keep even the toughest of the tough under his thumb. There wasn’t a Hero or Villain in the world who could realistically take him on, one on one, and win.

That thought relaxed you and the horrid sensation lessened. It didn’t leave entirely, but it receded enough that you could breathe again.

“Anyway, to cut a long story short… Cash wasn’t exactly secretive about what he liked to do to girls. He was always running his mouth and tonight, he came in absolutely singing about some pretty little Doctor that he’d fallen head over heels for…” Ivy said sourly, obviously not enjoying this part of the story.

You enjoyed it even less. It didn’t take a genius to work out just who that Doctor was. Your hope that he’d just been trying to scare you when he threatened to see you again had been futile, apparently and you were suddenly so glad that you’d asked All Might to stay that night.

“ You’re pretty well known yourself around here, sweets. Did you know that?”

You hadn’t known, no, but you kept quiet.

“It didn’t take long for a few of the regulars to work out just who Cash was talking about. Word got around like wildfire and eventually got to old Shigaraki himself. From what I’ve heard through the grapevine tonight, it took five and a half minutes from Shigaraki calling his boss, until All Might was storming the Golden Cat.”

Damn, there had been you, badmouthing Shigaraki not ten minutes ago in your head. If it hadn’t been for him telling All Might, who knows what would be happening to you right now?

You made a mental note to be extra nice to him the next time you saw him.

The thought that Cash had been interested in you made you shudder, sickened at the thought of him even thinking about you like that. Your body felt grimy and you resisted the urge to run to the bathroom and scrub yourself clean.

All Might was officially your fucking hero and he could pry that word from your cold, dead hands.

Sure, he would be horrified at the implication but that didn’t make it any less true. Maybe that’s why he’d brushed off your questioning earlier, being difficult when you wanted to know how he’d been injured.

You caught yourself grinning stupidly, attempting to hide it by biting your lip. You realised that there was no point. Ivy couldn’t see you anyway.

“So, I think the message is officially loud and clear. No-one fucks with the good Doctor,” she laughed, all angelic and sweet and you beamed down the phone, laughing along with her. You felt a heady sort of rush as the realisation that you were safe again sunk in. That the villains you had helped and minded and treated like people over the years had heard that you were in danger and had come to the rescue in their own way.

The realisation that… that he cared. Deep down, past his angry and irritable nature, he really cared.

“Ivy, I-”

Without warning, two large, muscular arms wrapped around your waist from behind and you might have jumped had All Might not buried his face into your neck and rumbled a low, lazy growl, like a bear waking up from hibernation. He nuzzled you with a deliberate slowness, lips pressing warm against your throat.

“You still talking to the sewer rat?” he murmured, sounding annoyed because he knew you wouldn’t hang up on her just because he said so- and so he would have to wait as patiently as he could until you were done.

On the other hand, it was an opportunity to rile Ivy up as much as possible.

“It’s Vagabond, you overgrown man child,” she hissed down the line, all previous goodwill towards him gone from her voice.

All Might ignored her, choosing instead to tug you back until you were plastered against his chest and he could lay his kisses along your shoulder- even though he still had to stoop down to reach. How did he even get so tall? Your breath caught in your throat, longing and gratitude fighting for the number one spot.

He wasn’t going to stay patient for much longer and neither were you.

“Listen, I gotta go, Ives. Love you, babes,” you said quickly and she cackled manically, well aware of where you were rushing off to in such a hurry. This was only proving her right. She would be insufferable for weeks now.

“Love you too, sweets! Try not to break anything. Like the building.”

You hung up to the sound of her laughter and turned in All Might’s arms, surprising him when you pulled him down for a kiss. You were long past the point of worrying about morals and right and wrong. There couldn’t be anything wrong in wanting him like you did. In knowing that he protected you and cared about you in his own way- no matter if he never said it out loud.

He broke away, smirking.

“Someone’s eager,” he ground out, hands sweeping up along your sides. His thumb brushed the underside of your breast and you pulled in a shaky, uneven breath. “I bet you’ll be fucking soaking…”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Those intense eyes trailed over your face, lingering on your lips until he locked his gaze with yours.

“Thank you,” you blurted out, without meaning to.

One of his eyebrows quirked, amused.

“You’re thanking me for making you wet? That’s a new one on me sweetheart but sure. I’ll take the credit where it’s due,” he laughed cockily, one hand on the back of your head as he dove forward again and kissed you roughly. This one was all teeth and tongue and your knees shook, suddenly feeling thankful that he was holding you up.

You moaned softly, powerless but confident under his touch.

There was no pushing him back, no sliding your tongue into his mouth because the man was a force of nature and practically every inch of him was pure muscle. So you were content to let him take what he wanted from you, for now. Later you would find a way to turn the tables- to make him the quivering pathetic mess.

Right now, all you wanted was to find out all of the ways he kissed.

The angry ones, the lust filled ones, the sweet ones. The good morning kisses and the I’m happy to see you kisses and all the fucking kisses in between. You were off to a great start. You sighed, tangling your fingers in his hair and stroking your thumb in a circle on his scalp.

He melted under your touch and deep down you revelled in the fact that he was just as affected by you as you were by him.

“I um,” you stuttered, swallowing hard when you reluctantly pulled away from him. He looked as though he wanted to follow your mouth but for a change he let you speak. “I didn’t mean thank you for- for that.”

“For what?” he asked knowing full well what you meant, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip.

“For…” Your face heated quickly, without you even realising it.

Without warning, a hand was shoved between your already shaky legs and he pressed upwards, cupping your pussy and dragging a half halting, surprised moan out of your throat. He almost took you off your feet and your fingers wrapped over his biceps to steady yourself.

“For. What?” All Might asked again, applying pressure in all the places you needed pressure applied. Oh you were well and truly fucked and he hadn’t even gotten you naked yet.

“Cause if you’re blushing now, kitten, then I can’t wait to see what you’ll be like when we really get going,” he continued, nuzzling along your cheek and rubbing his palm over your aching pussy. “M’not a mind reader. You have to tell me what you want. Where you want me. How hard you want me to pound into you. I wanna hear you sobbing my name like it’s the last fucking thing you’ll ever say tonight. Think you can do that for me? Hmm?”

You were gripping his arms for dear life, trying to focus on the steady heaving of your lungs. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Yeah, yeah, I can do it,” you promised, almost without hearing the words come out of your mouth. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” he purred encouragingly and you just about lost your shit for a few seconds, along with any sense you might have had left as the praising words repeated on a loop in your head. “Now, I’ll ask again. What weren’t you thanking me for?”

He was grinning wickedly against your cheek, eyes boring into yours.

“For making me wet,” you responded finally, when your tongue no longer felt like it weighed a hundred pounds and you remembered how to speak actual words and not just garbled syllables.

He groaned- actually groaned like you were the one touching him, instead of the other way around and it sent a shivering wave of heat spreading out at the base of your spine. Your clit throbbed mercilessly under the heat of his palm.

“Christ kitten,” he said, voice hoarse. He didn’t pull his hand away like you thought he would though. You were still sensitive from your little dry humping session earlier and the pressure he was applying was agonising torture for so many reasons.

You both knew he would pull away though if you even tried to set the pace. He’d made it perfectly clear that he was in charge.

“Now, what were you thanking me for? You’ve got me all curious.”

You felt dizzy and the words didn’t exactly come easily. The heat radiating off of his bare chest was intoxicating and so was the sight of all those well defined, rippling muscles so easily within reach. You indulged yourself, seeing as you hadn’t been able to earlier. You lightly trailed the pads of your fingers over his pectoral muscle and down at a steady pace, over the hardness of his abs and then to the tempting, glorious V shape that led under-

Your smile came unbidden to you and he noticed, knowing immediately what you were grinning like an idiot about. He was wearing the pajama pants you’d gotten him.

They were simple, nondescript pants like any guy would wear but… you’d gotten them in his favourite colour and he’d actually put them on.

You’d expected him to either stay in his towel or well, just get the clothes out of the way entirely.

“Yeah, yeah,” he snorted, releasing you when he realised that he’d gotten your attention in an entirely different way. The loss of sensation between your legs was more than worth it to see him standing there, a little awkwardly, with his arms crossed. “Don’t be a jackass about it, for fuck sake. I just didn’t want to have my dick out when I was eating dinner.”

“Like that would bother you,” you beamed and he grunted something petulant that you didn’t hear.

“You gonna tell me what you’re thanking me for, or what?” he said after a moment, ignoring the obvious erection that was tenting the front of said pants. You found it very, very hard to ignore but dragged your eyes up to his face after a moment anyway. His self assured smirk was expected.

He knew how attractive he was and what it was doing to you. Damn him.

“Cash,” you managed to say after a moment and it clearly didn’t answer his question. He looked at you like you were an idiot.

“You… want cash? Here was me thinking you weren’t a whore,” he cackled, pleased at his own cleverness. You were less amused, punching him lightly in the arm. The shaking of his shoulders didn’t stop but at least he was no longer laughing out loud.

You were trying to spill your heart to the big jerk and he couldn’t stop mocking you for more than five seconds.

“Come on! Stop being a dick,” you scowled, arousal now tainted with annoyance. He rolled his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his slicked back hair, his laughter dying after a moment.

“Alright, alright! Explain yourself, woman,” he swept his hands out, metaphorically giving you the floor.

“Hinata Cash,” you elaborated, expecting the penny to drop. But when he continued to look lost, it slowly dawned on you that he’d never even bothered to learn the guys name. All he’d known was that he was going to do something to hurt you and… that had been enough for him to go on. Your heart thrummed in your chest. “Um, Scissorhands?”

Much like they had earlier, his eyes darkened, flashing a sudden warning that it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. Unlike earlier though, you ignored it. Answers to your question were just out of reach.

“Why are you bringing up that motherfucker?” he asked gruffly, then swept past you almost dismissively before you could answer. He disappeared into your kitchen, his back to you. Not the reaction you had been expecting. The heated air had vanished- as had the playfulness he’d exuded moments before. “Way to kill a mood, doll.”

You suddenly regretted opening your mouth. He hadn’t told you- and if he hadn’t told you, there had been a reason for it.

“Shit,” you hissed softly to yourself, listening to him stomping around the kitchen behind you.

You turned and followed him, pathetically useless against the part of you that longed to be near him. Besides, there was no taking it back now and you were burning up with curiosity.

Why had he killed Cash? Why had he even bothered himself at all?

Most of all, you wanted- no needed to know.

Had he done it for you?

-------------------------

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

#all might x reader #all smite x reader #all smite #all might #bnha #BNHAFF #smut

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officialleotolstoy · 3 years

Text

Oh Anatole Brainrot* We’re Really In It Now, aka Anatole playlist annotations!

*I only have brainrot about him in terms of his relationships with Hélène and Dolokhov idc about him on his own 🤢

This playlist is infuriating because it has so many good songs on it and he does NOT deserve to have a playlist that slaps so hard :/

My Type - Saint Motel

“You’re just my type; you’ve got a pulse and you are breathing”

The lyrics are literally just I Will Have Sex With Anything That Breathes which is Anatole’s only personality trait. It just is.

Fool For Love - Lord Huron

“I’m asking her to be my bride, I know there’s another man but he ain’t gonna delay my plans”

This song is about eloping with a girl who already has a boyfriend, it is THE Comet section Anatole song. Which angers me because it’s such a good song, it doesn’t deserve to be associated with him in my head.

The Cult of Dionysus - The Orion Experience

“Wine and women and wonderful vices”

HEDONISM BABEY!!! Also the phrase “wine and women” with “he spends his money on women and wine” in Comet...makes ya think.

Everybody Loves Me - OneRepublic

“Look so good I might die, all I know is everybody loves me”

You know that quote that’s like “[Anatole] cultivated an air of superiority blah blah blah whatever” (paraphrased)? This is that in song form.

Bedroom Hymns - Florence + The Machine

“The wine and the women and the bedroom hymns”

Thottery AND the phrase “wine and women”? Anatolecore.

Talk - Hozier

“I’ll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I’m imagining you”

I think if he needs to, Anatole can sugarcoat carnal desire with pretty words. It kind of comes down to “I’m pretending to be eloquently and romantically interested in you but I really just want to have s*x with you”. He might not have that much self-control, but the bottom line is that this song is horny and so is he.

Someone New - Hozier

“I wake at the first cringe of morning and my heart’s already sinned”

All my notes say is “commitment issues thot anthem” which is fair. I think it’s physically impossible for him not to fall in love with someone new every week, which is the entire point of this song. Also “you knew who I was with every step that I ran to you” tracks, Anatole doesn’t really try to hide it.

Paradise City - Guns N’ Roses

“Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty”

I won’t lie, I’m not sure if this is what the song is actually about but that bit at least has hedonism energy. Also this came up on genius lyrics and it feels like something Anatole would do:

Hallelujah - Panic! At The Disco

“I got caught under the covers with secondhand lovers”

Ok whore. But also the vibes of knowing you’re a sinner and reveling in it feels like Anatole. It’s the complete lack of shame for me.

Why Should I Worry - Billy Joel

“Why should I worry? Why should I care?”

Has he ever actually cared about anything other than his own personal wellbeing? Jury’s still out. This song implies he has street smarts which may not be true but not every lyric is gonna work 😔✌🏻

Only The Good Die Young - Billy Joel

“I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints, the sinners are much more fun”

The entire song is just seducing a devoutly Catholic girl, and it doesnt exactly work but I always assign this in my head to that time he tried to marry Marya B. But just in general, the reckless seduction vibes work.

Mambo No. 5 - Lou Bega

“To me flirting is just like a sport”

Unironically this is such an Anatole song. Listing off all his different lovers and their attributes is absolutely something he’s done. This is just a carefree thot song which is his vibe.

Ex’s and Oh’s - Elle King

“Ex’s and oh’s they haunt me like ghosts”

This is also on the Hélène playlist but this time the ex messing things up is his wife (not that any of that was her fault). I also think the general vibes of “I’m gonna make you want me so much and then leave you” are Anatoleish

Rasputin - Boney M.

“Russia’s greatest love machine”

LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME THIS DOESN’T WORK. It’s about the seduction of upper-class Russian women come ON

I’m Born To Run - American Authors

“I’m gonna live my life like I’m gonna die young”

This is almost a more wholesome version of his careless hedonism, more skewed toward seeing the world rather than just having drunken fun but the energy is still there

Don’t Stop Me Now - Queen

“Tonight I’m gonna have myself a real good time”

It’s the “having fun is the only thing that matters” mindset. He doesn’t deserve this song 😔

Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen

I don’t have a lyric for this one, it’s just like. Yes I am a professional flirter! He is not this into commitment but i imagine he tells a new person this every week.

Oops!...I Did It Again - Britney Spears

“But to lose all my senses, that is just so typically me”

The lack of commitment and not treating relationships seriously is very Anatole, and so is the refusal to take responsibility for the heartbreak you directly caused.

How Bad Can I Be? - The Lorax

“How bad can I be? I’m just doing what comes naturally”

I KNOW I KNOW. HEAR ME OUT. This is pretty much Tolstoy’s “defense” of him verbatim. It’s the idea that he’s just so naturally like this it has never occurred to him to be any other way or to think about other people’s wellbeing. Anatole is the Onceler and Natasha is a straight girl on tumblr circa 2012.

Runaway Baby - Bruno Mars

“When I play, I never stay”

He would never be this self-aware, but otherwise it fits. The whole thing is about an inability to commit and a propensity for causing heartbreak. Also, I’ve had a grudge against this song for years and the blind rage it fills me with is reminiscent of the blind rage Anatole fills me with.

California Girls - The Beach Boys

“I’ve been all around this great big world and I’ve seen all kinds of girls”

This song is like, “What if we objectified every woman ever but made it a bop?” which is massive Anatole energy I think.

Girls, Girls, Girls - Motley Crüe

“I just need a new toy”

Literally the exact same justification as California Girls

It’s Raining Men - The Weather Girls

If I’m gonna add songs about objectifying women, I’m gonna add songs about objectifying men too. Equal opportunity whorery.

Parental Guidance - Judas Priest

“You say I waste my life away but I live it to the full”

This is just him to Vassily. Refusing to be controlled by your parents’ expectations and just going off to have fun is Vassily’s whole gripe with him and also the point of this song.

How To Be A Heartbreaker - MARINA

“You gotta have fun, but baby when you’re done you gotta be the first to run”

The bits about not getting close to anyone because you’re afraid of getting hurt don’t really apply but the “here’s how to make people like you and also we are for sure not staying together this is just for fun” definitely fit.

The STD Song - Top Memes

“Sinning with your naked bod is evil and atrocious”

I uh. I forgot this was on here but I was RIGHT when I added it. This is the lecture Vassily gives him after his Polish wife debacle-

Do It All The Time - I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

“I’m only doing anything I want to do because I do it all the time”

He literally just does whatever he wants without thinking about the consequences. It’s just got huge entitled kid thot energy which is Anatole’s whole character. And the line “I’m taking your girl and I’m making her mine” is deeply Anatoleish.

Until The Night Turns - Lord Huron

“I got a helluva view for the end of the world, I've got a bottle of booze and a beautiful girl”

This doesn’t fit into any particular situation but I do think if the world was ending and Anatole was drunk with a pretty lady he would have this exact reaction. Also the repetition of the word sunrise (which is what the name Anatole means) is just a fun little extra bit.

Girls - The 1975

“What’s the fun in doing what you’re told?”

Rebellious kid energy! Also “she can’t be what you need if she’s 17” is everyone with morals @ him about Natasha (I know she was 19 at the time shh it’s about the energy).

Pretty Fly (For A White Guy) - The Offspring

“In his own mind he’s the dopest trip”

This man is The Worst but he really thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips huh! Literally everyone can tell he’s not the brightest bulb in the bunch EXCEPT HIM. Smh.

#anatole kuragin #war and peace #my post #w&p playlists #unfair of this playlist to slap so hard when it’s for the worst character #im gonna post the ship ones a bit later bc im a narcissist and i want more attention xo

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

WINSoD - Pt.2

We Move Together...

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2, part 3)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2400

Summary: In which Steve might get a bit tipsy and jealous in a sweet way.

A/N: As adertised, What I’d Never Say or Do (Had I Been in My Right Mind) is only refered to as WINSoD. Also - enter Age of Ultron ;)

Warnings: mention of superntural creatures, alcohol, language, briefest mention of death, journalists acting like jerks

Part 1 (previous chapter)

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The press conference was a thing from nightmares. You did not enjoy all the flashes of cameras; you were not Tony freaking Stark, all charming and witty when over a hundred reporters stumbled through the doorway of the huge conference room. No, you could only manage to be sassy and fun within a circle of your friends. Which you found yourself in anyway, but boy, the presence of the others was still very much apparent and they were the ones asking questions.

Even Bruce had been forced to come, much to his dismay, but him and Clint were for some reason left out when it came to the poisonous questions, their duo considered only unwilling participants of the whole plotting for and against the poor soulmate pair of you and Steve.

You truly envied Thor who was off to Asgard once more. And while you wouldn’t want to be in Bucky’s shoes, you sure as hell wished you could sit this one out as he did, the public still not aware of his existence safe for one priest who had helped him to find his way to Steve.

It was ridiculous. The tone a question was asked with was enough to distinguish whether it was aimed at you and Steve or at someone else. Hell, when it came to you and Steve, they didn’t even bother asking, just stating the facts instead.

“Such a long recovery. That must have been horrible, especially with amnesia involved, wasn’t it.” (Yes, shockingly. What is it to you, huh?)

“Such luck you were able to remember, isn’t it.” (Luck had nothing to do with it. God’s sister has.)

“You must be angry with Captain’s team too, aren’t you.” (No, they are the best, you idiot, this whole thing is a stupid lie.)

“I am sure you’re willing to share your story since people were grieving for you in such a worship-like way…” (…fuck you.)

In reality, you tried to word your indignation towards this herd-like aggressivity aimed at the Avengers and the blatant pity for you rather carefully, speaking of hardship but justified, and yes, you were very lucky indeed. They didn’t need to know just how much.

Steve received a pretty similar set of questions, but they were more of anger and questioning whether the team was still able to function after such a betrayal that nearly ended up tragically. Steve was surprisingly convincing in his act of a disappointed teammate and friend and expressed hope that they would be able to continue to exist and cooperate, his team slowly earning his trust back.

“Have the outcome had been different, my reaction would be too. But the love of my life is here with me and that is what matters. I cannot begin to say how lucky I am to have her back and I thank God for that every day.”

You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at the private joke and smiled at him instead, earning a whispering wave of ‘awww’ from the crowd and a blinding mess of camera flashes when you gathered the courage to lean in and kiss Steve’s cheek chastely. The reporters went absolutely nuts.

Tony and Natasha on the other hand had to face the stoning. Seriously, there were being personally attacked, questions dripping venom. But they clearly had more experience and knew how to answer without the cunning reporters being able to twist their words into something else, much to the vultures’ dislike and annoyance. Duo Stark-Romanoff fought back and very effectively.

It filled your chest with pride, having friends capable in so many ways. They were so freaking badass.

It made the whole experience more bearable; that and Steve’s hand always touching you, grounding you and reminding you that never ever he would let you face the wolves alone.

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You all knew that a public apology and trying your best to deal with the press somehow wouldn’t be enough. Well, you had hoped it would, but hadn’t quite believed, expecting to have to more in near future.

You were right, of course, which was why you were currently dressed up (or dolled up, as Steve loved to say, because you were his doll, after all) and forcing yourself to leave the elevator once it would stop, with Steve by your side.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he coaxed, knuckles brushing your cheek tenderly, planting a soft kiss to your temple, too worried about smudging your lipstick despite Natasha’s earlier reassurance that it wouldn’t smudge under any circumstances as she had thoroughly tested.

You tried not to think about that kind of testing and clearly Steve felt the same.

Instead, you gazed into the cerulean blue with a drop of green of his eyes, not convinced. He was being sweet and all, which you appreciated, but in reality, he had no way of knowing it would be alright. Mostly because Tony went all the way and invited all the important people who could influence the public opinion as much as rising stars of whom he felt could influence the public in the near future.

So next to a senator and a group of big-shot businessmen, there would hang out a pair of lawyers sticking for the little guy and right next to a supermodel, there would be a girl starting a new food bank. Thinking about it, it was a funny parallel to Steve and you by his side, except you weren’t doing any good, unlike them. Not that you would say that out loud.

To be fair, the Avengers decided to spice thing up a little by revealing Bucky Barnes being alive, very slowly leaking his story of a brainwashed soldier. Funnily enough, in a shadow of your big reveal, his own went rather quietly.

People were so freakin’ weird.

“I guess I’m gonna survive…” you murmured, ignoring the icy shiver that ran up your spine at your choice of words. Steve’s gaze seemed to turn distant for a moment before coming back to you, some of the strength he had been trying to project into you disappearing in the wind because of the painful memory. “Sorry. That was-“

The emotion no doubt twisting his gut caused his inhibitions to fly out of the window and his lips captured yours in a searing kiss that took your breath away. You melted against his muscular frame that seemed to engulf you completely, his calloused fingers grabbing onto your bare shoulders, digging in a bit deeper than necessary.

Your head was spinning with the passion displayed so openly and in the back of your mind, you registered that the elevator stopped, but before you could get to the idea of thanking Tony’s AI, your brain got side-tracked when Steve shamelessly licked into your mouth and backed you into the railing by the wall.

Feeling the familiar heat pool in your lower abdomen, sending sizzling heat through your veins, you instinctively gripped the lapels of his suit jacket when his lips retreated to give you a chance to breathe in.

Who needed breathing anyway?

He grinned against your mouth, the little shit he was, and one of his hands guided your head to a tilt for better access. You most definitely whimpered at that as his body trapped you against the wall completely, not leaving an inch in between.

Feeling him this close would never get old and you thought you might burst by the time his mouth moved to your left ear, keeping you in place while his hand moved from your shoulder to trace the line of your dress, slipping between the high slit of your dress to caress your thigh.

“Watch your mouth, doll. Or I’m gonna have to do exactly this to shut you up every time you don’t,” he whispered and your ragged breath caught in your throat when the perfect comeback popped in your head – a reasonable one, surprisingly enough.

“I bet the press would love that.”

His fingers flexed on your leg and his teeth very carefully nibbled on the skin of your neck, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Don’t care about the press,” he growled lowly, sighing as if in pain when he slowly pulled back, leaving you clutching the railing so you wouldn’t fall as your legs turned into an uncontrollable wobbly mass. Then, as if he wanted to ruin you completely before the night even started, his lips were graced by a soft smile, his eyes twinkling. “I care about you.”

“And you call me trouble…”

He had the nerve to wink at you and thank the AI for the stop he never explicitly asked for.

“My pleasure, Steve,” Jarvis hummed, sounding amused and self-satisfied.

Your soulmate gentlemanly offered you an elbow to lead you out of the cabin.

“Shall we, my lady?”

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In all honesty, the party wasn’t that bad, mostly because it wasn’t just to celebrate your resurrection, but also retrieving a sceptre Thor’s brother had used during The Battle of New York.

You wouldn’t go as far as saying you enjoyed the evening greatly, but you had met several interesting people of which only few had weird questions regarding you; however, weird questions when showing up in public was an everyday occurrence.

You finally truly understood why Steve was happy you treated him like an equal (most of the time anyway).

Every single original male Avenger and Sam and Bucky made sure to dance with you as well as with Natasha and for a good measure, when the song got the right beat, your favourite redhead dragged you to the dance floor for a friendly dance; needless to say Natasha was much better at spontaneous dancing than you. Steve assured you about the opposite by a kiss and a rather filthy promise as soon as you shared your thoughts on your lacking skills with him.

Actually--- yes, you might even say you enjoyed the party very much, uncharacteristically for you, considering the insane number of people attending. The penthouse was way too full, but here you were, sipping on your third glass of champagne, listening to Thor’s colourful narrating regarding Asgardian battles. It wasn’t that you were interested in battles, no – it was the man himself creating suspense and gesturing wildly and making the whole clutch of listeners breathless.

“Careful with the admiring, doll,” Steve whispered to your ear, his arm sneaking around your waist out of nowhere, nearly making you jump out of your skin. “I might get jealous.”

Giddy from the alcohol, you turned your head and brushed his lips with yours.

“We did establish I’d marry Thor if you weren’t an option, didn’t we?” you teased lowly, catching the wink Thor sent your direction as if he heard you despite your hushed voice. It wasn’t flirtation; no, it felt more like mischief, as if he was being your wingman, which he excelled at apparently, because Steve might get little possessive if the grunt by your ear was anything to go by. “As if you didn’t know I only have eyes for you.”

“Just eyes?”

“Why, Captain, are you implying something?”

“Maybe.”

“Of course, my heart is yours as well,” you smirked at him, making his somehow annoyed and pleased at the same time. You leaned even closer. “And everything else.”

“Alright, but what about that hammer of yours? I mean, I saw people swinging around Captain’s shield – though not as skilfully – but no one uses your weapon. Why? Is it that heavy? Are you the only one strong enough to… keep it up?” one of the women asked, apparently more than a little tipsy, judging by her implication.

Gee, she had no inhibitions. Were you being like this now? You really hoped not…

“Well, my lady, that is a very complicated matter…” Thor started, clearly pleased by that question.

“Dance with me again,” sounded softly at your ear and your lips automatically curled up in a smile.

“Whatever makes you happy, my love.”

Steve grinned as he swiftly got rid of the glass in your hand and was already pulling you away by the time you noticed the envious or the amused stares of your companions.

“Green’s not a good colour on you, Steve,” you hummed incidentally, earning an actual pout. “This is adorable though. And I’m not gonna complain about you getting a bit handsy more often.”

“Trouble, doll.”

“I love you too.”

“I do love you. I’m sorry if I got annoying. It’s just… ugh. Thor. You got this look in your eyes and I just-”

Oh.

You sometimes forgot Steve could be as self-conscious as you were. It made your heart ache and yet grow with fondness for your soulmate.

“No, Steve. I might get starry-eyed, because of course I do admire him. It’s easy to get captivated by his stories or his manners, just look at the crowd around him. But you… there’s something about you… that strikes me right here.” You tapped over your heart pointedly. “You know me through and through and yet here you are. You must know I’m yours and still – you treat me every day like you’re courting me and at the same time, we’re comfortable with each other and--- yeah, that. Thor is great. But you’re everything. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” he confirmed, brilliant eyes shining, the drops of Asgardian liquor he had consumed adding to the glow. “And you’re mine.”

“Meant to be…” you cooed, happily giving in to his lips when they found yours again for a short moment. You barely realized you stopped in your steps as the slow song had made you only sway. You whispered into his lips then, unbothered. “Plus, I bet you could lift that hammer and keep it up too if you tried.”

His rich laughter filled your ears and he spun you both in circle, planting a kiss on your forehead. You already planned on how you’d get him a custom-made mug with a little hammer on it, reading ‘I am worthy’ or something like that. You were sure he’d love it.

Yeah, it was an amazing party.

Here was a funny thing though; when you had already been confronted with the fact angels and God existed, you should have known blasphemy was a thing.

So, naturally, as you had said ‘I guess I’m gonna survive…’, you should have known there would be a thick chance that you wouldn’t.

That was the first thing that flew through your mind the moment something burst through a wall as if it was made paper thin and not metal.

The second thought? Oh shit.

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Part 3

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Thank you for reading!

Like I said, chapters of this fic will be less chronologically tight. Buuut, you’ll see ;) Also, sorry it took me so long.

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers soulmate #soulmate au #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #steve rogers imagine #avengers #a:aou #mcu #marvel #captain america soulmate #winsod #anika ann

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bbnibini · 3 years

Text

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA -- forty-one🔖

[ Jump into his arms ]

(Satan's affection +5)

He was at the perfect spot to catch you, at least that's what you told yourself as you jumped down. Holding Sheba securely in your arms, you felt yourself descending, refusing to open your eyes. You trusted Satan---still, it was still a pretty high place to fall from so you couldn't really fault yourself for feeling nervous.

"It's all right now," You heard him call your name. "I got you."

You caught a whiff of the familiar scent of detergent and old books envelop you. Satan's gentle voice tickled your ear and made you finally open your eyes and look up at him. His friendly smiles washed your nervousness away.

"I...have a cat?"

"Yes you do."

"I'm sorry..."

Warm lips pressed on your forehead. "Nonsense. What matters is that you're safe. Can you stand?"

"Y-yeah...sorry. Am I heavy?"

"Not at all." His smiled widened as he whispered something near your ear. "In fact, you're light as a feather."

Two distinguished coughs broke the tension(or whatever you call that weird vibe you're having) and you found yourself standing by yourself with a warm, red face. Asmodeus and Solomon both wore weird looking expressions as they looked at the two of you that made you feel even more conscious. Contrary to your embarrassment, Satan seemed to relish on the attention, even holding your hand and intertwining your fingers with his shamelessly. You wanted to pull away, but his close-eyed smile said otherwise.

He's filled with surprises as always--with him around, it felt like you had your own cat.

"Well, I apologise for interrupting your rendezvous, but I believe I have a lady friend to retrieve?" Solomon said lightheartedly.

"Oh! Yes! Here you go!" you handed Sheba over to his owner, the fickle cat accepting her Master's embrace more than willingly.

"It must have been scary being stranded there all by yourself. I apologise. Sheba tends to make mischief like this all the time."

"No! It was my fault. You warned both of us in the group chat about her moods yet I still pursued her. Sorry for troubling you."

Solomon shook his head. "No trouble at all. Thank you for retrieving her." He seemed to be smiling, but you couldn't help but feel that there was something else there. Something about him always felt...off, especially if you recalled Lucifer's vehement warnings about him. You felt bad for thinking that way though, especially when he didn't do anything wrong so you tried to be friendly with him. However, the sorcerer is as equally fickle as his pet and also had a penchant for lighthearted pranks (which made you wonder if Lucifer fell victim to them hence his warnings). Needless to say, he was a weird guy but he was pretty fun to be around despite his sketchiness.

"I didn't expect you to actually come and retrieve her yourself."

"Is your impression of me really that low?" his feigned hurt tone was almost convincing if you didn't look up to see the teasing smile on his face.

"I didn't mean that. You just seem like you're always busy."

He didn't comment any further and only smiled at you in his usual shady way. "Hey, don't forget about me!~♡" You heard Asmo say as he clung to you and exchanged a few jabs with Satan. With a kiss on your cheek (inevitably followed by Satan's death glares), Asmo bade you goodbye and ran off with the sorcerer and his cat.

"Your smile is scary, you know." you teased Satan as soon as the two disappeared from view. There was a pout on his face, his hold on your hand tightening when he said, "You didn't seem to dislike being kissed by Asmo, yet you grumble and protest when I initiate contact."

Pfft!

How cute can he be? You couldn't help but pinch his cheeks.

"Is my suffering a joke to you?" Now that both of you are alone, you feel a lot more comfortable with showering your temperamental cat with affection. You settled on resting your head on his side and squeezing his hand back. The gesture made you sigh in satisfaction.

Alone at last.

You really really REALLY missed him. It was a bit dramatic but it's true. You rarely get to spend time with each other lately and the festival and the upcoming exams aren't really helping with your alone time(or lack thereof). Spending your days with his brothers is lovely and all, but would it kill them to let you have a moment with your...

Your...

Uhh...labels are hard. You don't actually know what you two are.

"You know I adore you, right?" you asked him in a singsong voice.

"Do I? I'd like some evidence."

"Oh? You're not holding back for once?"

Satan laughed. "I've had enough of that already. If I cared about every little thing every time, my brothers would steal you away from me."

"But I won't be stolen."

"And what makes you so sure?"

You rolled your eyes and faced him, holding both of his cheeks. In an impish tone, you said, "This." before closing your eyes and going in for a kiss.

He immediately returned the gesture. With his hands now on your waist, he pulled you closer to him and leaned his head. He tasted like melancholy coffee and this morning's screamberry waffles in pixie syrup. His tongue, probing and playing with your own was warm and teasing. Your wandering hands were stopped when he deepened your kiss, a playful bite at your lips causing a small cut that you knew he intended. You tried all you could to keep up with him, but he was just so good at wrapping you around his sneaky demon fingers and playing with you silly. By the time both of you pulled away from each other, you were a blushing mess and he had this triumphant and childlike smile on his face that made you want to smack him and kiss him in that order.

"That hurt, you know." you remarked, pertaining to when he bit you.

"Marking territory always comes with a price."

"And I am a plot of land to conquer?"

As if knowing the right moment to pacify you, he rubbed his cheek on the top of your head like a purring cat. "Of course not. Wouldn't it be nice to see their reactions though?"

You rolled your eyes. "What a roundabout way of getting back at Asmo."

Of course you already predicted his nonchalant dismissal and his equally lighthearted reply: "I don't know what you're talking about," which you took in disbelief.

There was still some time before school closes for the day so you spent a bit of time just relaxing with Satan in the gardens. Under the shade of the tree with the long ass name you didn't bother to remember, you let him take a nap on your lap. As student council treasurer, he had to be at the top of his game---you were certainly aware of how less sleep he'd been getting than usual and how much it was actually affecting him. An expert at masking his feelings, you admit that you still didn't know a lot about him, but you could at least notice when he tries his best to hold back a yawn in class and of course, the obvious bags under his eyes. Thankfully, he listened to you when you urged him to take a nap.

Unbeknownst to you however, you fell asleep as well, only to be woken up by the final warning bell before RAD closes for the day. You looked at Satan fondly and parted the stray hair from his eyes. He looked so peaceful in his sleep that you didn't want to bother him, but you only have a few more minutes left before both of you will get locked out.

What will you do?

💌[ Let him sleep for a bit more. ]

💌[ Wake him up. ]

💌masterlist

💌tag request @lilliansstuff

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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And My Heart Burned In That Lodge

Michael (Mike) Munroe x Reader (female)

Warnings: Death, Grief, Dealing with loss, Heartbreak, Swearing

Genre: ANGST

Summary: None of them will ever be the same, who knows if they’ll even heal. However, the case is different for Mike. He’s left to be dealing with the guilt, grief and the haunting memory of his friend’s death. He’s angry with himself for all the wrong things he did and all the right things he was too much of a coward to do. Now, his only closure is talking to a gravestone, hoping the wind in the graveyard will pass the message onto the person who the words are meant for.

Requested by Anon. Wish I could tag them, they have such amazing ideas ❤

PS - Sorry this is hella long, I got carried away LOL

I stand aside, watching as my friends place their flowers on her grave. I can hear their cries. For some odd reason I can’t find it in me to feel sympathy or the need to go over there and be with them. I can’t see how that would do anything but make me feel more miserable. Standing here, seeing this scene unfold in front of me, I can’t help but be reminded of how it all started.

Fuck Mondays, man. Fuck them from the bottom of my heart. Even worse, this is the first week of school after winter break so no one wants to be here. Even even worse, this is the first time I’ll be seeing Emily after out breakup. We broke up over text and while I’m aware that’s the worst way to break up with someone, I must admit it was the only way for a lot of arguing and awkwardness to be avoided.

It’s the first time I’m coming to school alone in a while. Without Emily, the car was pleasantly quiet aside from the songs on the radio. Not gonna lie, it felt a bit lonely. Being single for the first time in what feels like forever is both liberating and oddly melancholic. I try to push the self-loathing and the depressing thoughts away as my eyes scan the hallway, looking for the group of familiar faces. My gang. We used to be ten people but we lost two girls during our winter getaway at the Washington lodge. Josh’s sisters, Hannah and Beth, went missing and are presumably dead, all cause of a stupid prank Jess, Emily and I concocted, convincing Matt and Ash to go along with it. In retrospect, I don’t know what we were thinking.

‘Seriously, Mike? From one depressing thought to another? Is your brain lacking serotonin today more than usual or what?‘ I mentally scold myself just as I spot two familiar faces - Sam and Ashley.

It doesn’t take long for me to notice the rest of the gang - Matt, Jess and Chris - all standing near by, surrounding a girl I have never seen before. She sticks out immediately with her long H/C hair and shiny E/C eyes. Jess has her arm linked with the girl, a gesture really out of place for Jess. I mean, her and Emily are pretty close and I’ve never even seen them hug.

“Hey, man. How are you?“ Matt notices me first, lifting his head and smiling at me. His greeting leads the others to look in my direction as well, including the girl. I catch Jess lean down in and whisper something to her. I can’t hear what she’s saying but it clearly aggravates her. I have never received a dirtier look from a girl in my entire life. I usually have the opposite effect on women but I guess there’s a first time for everything.

“Mike...” Jess steps away from the girl and towards me, “this is my best friend, Y/N. She just got transferred here.” She turns her attention back to the girl, “Y/N, this is Mike.”

Y/N looks unamused as she outstretches her arm in my direction. “Nice to meet you” is what she says, but her expression clearly tells me she would like to see as little of me as possible. At least she’s polite, right?

“Likewise.” The handshake is brief and, despite her obvious distaste for me, she still gives me a firm handshake.

“Wait, you were transferred? I thought Jess said you came here cause you moved.” Sam furrows her brows in confusion.

“Well, it’s really a chicken and the egg type of situation.” Y/N laughs, rubbing the back of her neck almost nervously, “We moved because I had to transfer.” Yikes.“ Ashley comments, “Not to pry or anything, but why did you have to be transferred?“

Y/N looks me dead in the eyes, as if she’s sending me a message that I better not overlook, or so help me God I’ll be dead. ”Noses randomly broke when I was around.”

It hurts so much to look back on those times and not pick up on what I was feeling. I foolishly decided that if I can’t give the feelings a name or find them a purpose I should turn a blind eye. I wasn’t that ignorant, I could tell she was the cause, but I could never admit it.

And then there’s the situation with Jess...

“You hurt her, and I’ll kill you.“

I found Y/N by the bleachers and let me tell you, she’s quite the paradox. She’s a straight A, no nonsense, intelligent beyond her years girl. With all these characteristics, you’d think she’d know better than to smoke cigarettes. Wrong! She’s a smoker. Jess can never not complain about the smell of cigarette smoke, it’s a miracle these two get along.

To my ‘hi’ she responded with what looked to be an eyeroll and an annoyed release of smoke through her nostrils. Even though I know I’m not welcome to be in her proximity, I still decide to sit down a little ways away from her, for personal space and all that. Definitely not cause I’m slightly afraid of her. No way.

We just sit in silence until she hits me with the aforementioned threat. I am caught off guard. All I can do is stare straight ahead of me like a deer in headlights. After maybe thirty seconds of absolute confusion I manage to turn my head to look at her. “What are you talking about?” The question is supposed to sound harsh but compared to the way she spit out that death threat it sounded more like a whimper.

“You are such an ignorant asshole.“ She shakes her head, throwing her cigarette on the bench below her. She stomps on it and walks away. I can’t help but stare at her until she’s out of sight. I feel like I’m watching something non-human. A phenomenon you can experience once in a lifetime - if you’re lucky.

She’s the complete opposite of Jess: grounded, smart, rational. The only time I’ve seen her be so unpleasant is around me. I catch her interactions with the rest of the gang. From afar, she seems like the nicest, friendliest girl. And then she catches a glimpse of me and her mood changes. I don’t know what’s her problem with me but I know it most certainly isn’t something I’ve done to her. She’s been like that since the first moment we were introduced, so either Jess has talked a lot of shit about me or she just hates people named Michael. I may never know.

I had no idea what she meant at the time and only found out three weeks ago. Speaking of three weeks ago, the group once again headed for the Blackwood Pines, trying to hide their uneasiness with make excitement. I was pretty hyped when I heard we were going because that also meant our friend Josh was finally starting to get better. He hadn’t been in a good mindset since his sisters went missing and we were all really worried for him but weren’t allowed to show it because he always insisted he was fine.

He wasn’t. He was as messed up as ever and served as only the prologue to the nightmare of a night we had to live through.

But before all that could happen, the night started off well. Better than expected. The eeriness of the mountain combined with the bad memories we had of the place we still there, we could all feel the tension, but we did a good job masking it with jokes and whatnot. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t really looking forward to go and not only because of what happened the year prior.

“Wait, wait, wait. Y/N’s coming too?“ I ask, looking at Josh with wide eyes.

The guy is clearly confused by my overdramatic reaction to him counting down the names of the ones who had already RSVPd ‘Yes’. “Is that a problem or something?”

I sigh, hiding my face in my hands. It’s embarrassing to admit, really. “She doesn’t like me, and that puts it mildly. She hates me.”

He looks even more baffled than before, “Why? What’d you do to her?”

“Nothing, for fuck’s sake. Not a single thing. I haven’t even had a proper interaction with her.“ Talking about this matter exhausts me, mostly cause I can’t even express half the things I’m feeling.

There’s been a time or two I’ve caught her looking at me but her eyes weren’t filled with that distrust I’m used to. She looks away quickly when we make eye contact, as if she can’t put the mean mask on in time and she has to look away to do a system reset. I sometimes catch myself looking at her without realizing. I try to tell myself I do it for the purpose of solving her.

‘Who are you kidding, Munroe?‘

* * *

And here I am, climbing up the mountain to the Washington lodge. I’ve made it a goal to use this getaway to mend things with Y/N. It’s the only way for me to get back to normal. To get my mind back since she’s recently been living in my head rent-free. I’m bullshitting, not just recently. She’s taken over my brain since day one. I can’t place what’s going on with me, I can’t find a term to label it with and I most definitely can’t find a way to stop it. So, I’ve come to the conclusion that if I can’t stop it on my own, she’ll have to do it for me.

Another thing - I’ve never felt nervous or self-conscious around a girl all my life. Never. My friends joke that I’m a ladies’ man and I’d say that’s pretty true. So I have a tough time understanding how I turn into an awkward turtle that’s missing confidence when she’s around.

Once we all get settled in and there’s a fire going, giving the lodge a cozy atmosphere, it’s every man for themselves. Everyone picks a activity they want to occupy themselves with and the living room of the lodge empties out, leaving me there alone.

I scroll stare at the screen of my now useless phone. The thing has no reception and no way of keeping me busy, leaving my attention to wander to the voices that are getting more and more distant as my friends walk out of the room.

I can’t help but overhear Jess say to Y/N, “You haven’t even set your bag down yet and you’re going for a smoke? Jeez, Y/N.”

“You say as though you don’t know me.“ Y/N laughs, the sound of a door opening following after her voice.

It’s such a nice sound, her laugh. I’ve never heard it before. I’ve seen her smile and seen her chuckle at someone’s joke, but it was never actually a laugh. Seems she keeps those for special occasions.

If she’s in the type of mood to laugh, she’s in the type of mood to be civil with me. Before I can talk myself out of the on-spot decision, I mentally slap myself and get off the couch, walking to the door to the side deck.

“You’ve got this, she’s just a person”

“Who’s just a person?“ her voice cuts through the silence of the outdoors.

‘SHIT I SAID THAT OUT LOUD‘

I decide to carry this all the way, no shortcuts. No backing out. Somehow, now that she’s standing in front of me - a cigarette between her fingers, her shoulders tense from of the cold - I find it easier to get the words out. She’s just as human as everyone else. The cold causes her to shrivel up. She’s addicted to tobacco. She’s not some riddle I need to solve, just a person I need to talk to in order to understand.

“You.“ I reply, “Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?“

She shakes her head, her shoulders trembling a bit, “It builds the immune system.”

“No, it makes you suffer.“ I shrug my jacket off, cautiously approaching her and wrapping it around her.

Surprisingly, she accepts it with a nod and a murmured ‘thanks’, holding onto it with the hand that’s not holding her cigarette. “Why were you reminding yourself that I’m just a person? Do I not look like one?” She scoffs, facing away from me to look at the snowy hills ahead.

“No, no, not that. You just make me nervous that’s all.“

She whirls around, giving me this look as though she has no idea what I’m talking about.

“Really? Why’s that?“ she puts out her cigarette on the wooden railing, focusing all her attention on me.

My hand instinctively goes up to the back of my neck, feeling my face start to heat up. “Well, you’re not really fond of me. And I don’t know why, and....” I trail off, sighing in self-disappointment, “And I wanna know why.”

Her expression turns the complete opposite, a smile spreading across her face. “It’s not about something you have done. It’s about what you might’ve done.”

Despite feeling slightly relieved, I am no less confused than I was a minute ago. “And what is that?”

“Break my best friend’s heart.“ She looks a lot more serious now, “You really had no idea she was head over heels for you just a month ago. You were so oblivious and she was so whipped...“ frustration radiates off of her, “I just didn’t want her to get hurt.“ She closes her eyes, stabilizing herself before finishing her statement, “I didn’t want to hurt her.“

“Wait, what?“

The hurt that paints itself on her face is contagious. I feel it too and I don’t even know what’s causing it. “She always told me about you. Mike this and Mike that. She made you sound like the best guy in the world. And...I really wanted to be let down when I met you, but you were nothing but nice to me and to the other people in the group. But you were also such a jerk from time to time. You are just too...Fucking forget it.”

In a blink of an eye she puts my jacket over the railing and runs inside the lodge.

“Y/N, wait!“

Needless to say, running after her was the best decision I’ve made. I didn’t get her to admit to anything, but at least we lied down the armor and agreed to give each other some time to get to know one another. Drop aside the assumptions and give a this acquaintanceship the chance to become a friendship.

Sadly, all good things come to an end way sooner than we want. The rest of that dreadful night I witnessed her transform. When everyone was freaking out, she held them and comforted them. I saw the fear in her eyes but she never let it shine through in her actions. She was the one still holding it together even after she saw that disgusting creature. Her and I were the ones to turn that sanatorium upside down. We were with Josh in the mines. We were the ones to see the Wendigo first. We were by each other’s side the entire time. We had each other’s backs.

I’ve never felt such a connection with someone. I was experiencing the most intimate understanding with a person in the worst moment of my life. It was bittersweet. The poison mixed with the cure.

Even when she knew her death was approaching, her only reaction was a single tear. A single crystal drop running down her cheek.

We can make a break. We can run right out of this hell hole and turn it to ash, all we need is for this fucking to focus its attention elsewhere. Thankfully Chris, Ash and Emily have made it out already and they’re safe. However, Sam, Y/N and I are trapped. The silent looks we exchange are laced with fear and panic. We have to calculate our next moves down to a millisecond and we don’t even know what those next moves should be.

Suddenly, a sharp pain starts spreading from my hand shoulder. My adrenaline is no longer doing a good job blocking out the pain of the fingers I had to sever. I slip up, letting out a hiss. The pain is just that unbearable.

That thing turn at the speed of light, letting out a screech and heading in my direction. My whole body is tense I couldn’t move if I wanted to but my arm is in such a horribly painful position, I think I’ll faint if I don’t readjust it.

“HEY!“ The voice comes from opposite me and my heart drops.

Sam’s next to me. It’s not her. It’s Y/N.

The Wendigo loses interest in me as soon as it hears her yell turning and heading straight for her. It all starts sinking in. Now that it’s facing away, Sam and I can make it out. But she can’t. It’s over for her. There’s no way she’s leaving this lodge.

I catch her eyes from across the room. Her posture says a fighter, but her eyes scream ‘petrified’. She knows it too. She knows it’s game over. A single tear rolls down her cheek, shattering my heart.

That’s the last vulnerable moment, however. She turns her head, deciding to go out without showing a glint of fear to that piece of shit. I don’t have to look at Sam or tell her what to do. We’re both aware that we’re about to make it out, losing Y/N in the process.

It happens in a split second. Y/N spits at the Wendigo and then next thing I see is her laying on the ground in a pool of blood.

The dash out of the lodge is a blur. The last thing I remember is sitting outside of the burning building, staring at the flames. The lodge wasn’t the only thing burning. Years of memories; history; wendigos; and my heart burnt in that lodge.

I see the group leave the graveyard. I struggle to move forward, my limbs heavy. I feel gravity is a lot stronger all of a sudden.

I didn’t go to the final goodbye. I knew it wasn’t her. There was nothing left of her to bury. Sam told me they buried things that reminded people of her and objects she cherished.

Well it’s time I give my goodbye.

I shrug my jacket off - the same jacket from that night - and put it around the gravestone like I put it over her shoulders. There’s a box of the cigarettes she smoked in the inner pocket.

“I hope you felt what I felt, Y/N. I hope I didn’t have to say it for you to notice it. I wish I knew...cause now it’ll haunt me for the rest of my life.” I can’t stop the tears, I’m too weak and I’ve been holding them back for far too long. “I’ve never believed in an afterlife. But I really hope there is one, just so we can meet again.” I scoff, shaking my head, “Who am I kidding, I’m probably going to hell.”

I believe that’s where I deserve to go, anyway. I’m the reason she died. And I will never let myself live that down. I will never forgive myself. A flame like no other burnt out so mine could keep burning. I will make sure it haunts me till the day I leave this world behind.

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xxbyimm · 4 years

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A tale as old as time - Bard the bowman x OC - Chapter 2

Check out my Masterlist! Or new to this journey? Here’s chapter 1.

A tale as old as Time - Bard x OC - Chapter 2: A boat full of gravy

Summary: Brea encounters more gravy than she bargained for...

Warnings: ALFRID EW!

Taglist: @soradragon @pistachiozombie @legolaslovely @tomisbaeholland @saviorsong @swoopswishsward @fizzyxcustard @deepestfirefun @ruthoakenshield @mariannetora @goldrun @marvel-ous-hobbit @humongousgalaxycoffee If you don’t wish to be tagged anymore, please let me know! Or if you’re not on the list and want to be tagged: check out my lists and I’d like to hear which list you want in on!

When Jenessa prodded her big sister’s waist for the third time to help regain attentiveness to the conversations around the dinner table, Brea knew she was doing it again. After everything that had happened, she had sworn never to become a victim of excessive daydreams and complete lack of focus again. But here she was… Going down the drain already.

Unfortunately, Brea knew exactly what was going to happen. Soon her usual calmness and practical view of life would be thrown out of the window and she would start dedicating her time by trying to catch a glimpse of the object of her affections. She could only hope that this time her feelings were not reciprocated. Because if this was going to be anything like last time, she had a problem.

And problems like that, as the case of Ruthron had taught her, should be avoided like the plague…

It all started last spring, just over a year ago. On a particularly dreary morning, Mîrhel had dragged her eldest daughter to a gathering in the city hall. Brea didn’t care for politics, nor did the latest fashions of court interest her in the slightest, but her mother had been quite adamant. So Mîrhel’s eldest did what any obedient daughter would do.

As the noble ladies chatted away about unimportant matters, Brea’s mind had travelled to the interesting material she had read in her father’s study earlier this morning. The consequences would be dire if father ever found out she had been reading in the surgical handbook he had bought for his ever growing collection, but that didn’t frighten her. After all, she had just turned twenty-four.

According to Mîrhel, Brea was already past the proper age of procuring a suitable match, but Brea did not wish to marry- at least not yet. She was eager to learn more about the real world she lived in, not the ever boring topics the noble, married women confined themselves to. The purpose of life should be to enlighten oneself, not waste time talking about… embroideries.

So while her mind was considering the texts she had read, her gaze had travelled through the room and stopped at a handsome palace guard in the nearest corner. He possessed the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen and she could not help but stare at him for a few seconds, maybe even wondering who he was.

That answer came sooner than she would have guessed, in the form of mister handsome guard’s future wife. Apparently, the most ignorant girl in the room also turned out to be his betrothed. She could not stop bragging about her impending union with her Ruthron, the son of the head of the Citadel. Brea thought the girl was a brat and decided if that was the guard’s type -no matter how handsome his looks-, she should stay far away from him.

Ruthron later had told Brea he never cared for his future wife and he always desperately was seeking for ways to avoid her. They had been betrothed by a special agreement, made by their parents when they were mere infants. Ruthron had lost count how many times he had argued with his dad about this ridiculous contract, but no matter how much he tried, his father could not be swayed. Ruthron would have to marry Margery.

But love knows no bounderies. And when Ruthron first laid his eyes on Brenion’s eldest daughter on that rainy morning, he knew.

Convincing Brea to give him a chance hadn’t been easy, but before they both knew it they were falling hard. In hindsight, Brea believed that falling in love with Ruthron was as easy as falling asleep, how could someone not? He was an handsome guy, proud of his heritage and loyal to the ones he loved. He could be mischievous at times and made her laugh even when she was in a foul mood. They shared interests like medicine (a profession Ruthron’s father hadn’t allowed his son to pursue) and could talk for hours. But more importantly- he didn’t see her as the daughter of a wealthy merchant, but just as Brea. When she was with him, she felt alive. When he held her, the world shrunk unto the two of them. She was sure she’d never experience a love like this again, which was why she was to prepared to gamble with her life, her reputation, to risk it all for a chance to be together.

But in the end, not even her purest intentions were able to save her lover from his ultimate fate...

‘Brea!’ Mîrhel insisted with a hiss, alarming her eldest daughter. ‘The master asked you a question!’ ‘Oh!’ She murmured, quickly raising her gaze and meeting the master’s unpleasant stare. Ruthron’s handsome face disappeared and Brea was back at the stuffy dining room in the town’s hall again. ‘Forgive me, uncle. I was appreciating the rich flavours of the meal you so kindly provided tonight…’ She smiled innocently. ‘I simply lost track of all else…’

There was a short silence, in which the whole room seemed to hold their breath while waiting for the master’s reaction. Brea smiled even brighter and relief washed over her body when her uncle started to laugh. ‘You’re forgiven, my child.’ He boomed. ‘I’m glad you and I have the same, refined taste, my dear.’

Ugh. Hardly. Brea eyed the fat, greasy red-haired man as he happily devoured another piece of meat before looking down at her own plate. She then shot a glance at her mother (‘Please, don’t make me eat this!’) and finally settled for the inevitable. Just a few more bites…

The remnants of the meat pie on her plate didn’t smell anything like the apple pie she had enjoyed yesterday. It had been the best pastry she had tasted in all her life and since she originated from the big city of Minas Tirith, that truly said something. The Bardlings had been too kind, allowing her and Jen to stay for over an hour. The family had kept a lively discussion going about various topics and as Sigrid and Jen tried to outsmart each other, Brea more than once caught the bargeman’s gaze. There had been this soft, sweet expression in his eyes that caused more reaction inside her than she’d like to admit…

Brea suppressed a shiver as she picked up a piece of meat with her fork. She didn’t know what part of a poor animal this was, but since her uncle had a rather unsavoury preference for bollocks, she really did not like to find out anyway. Careful to spill none of it on her favourite light blue dress, she opened her mouth and caught the food between her teeth. When she saw her father looking rather sternly at her, she started chewing. There was far too much gravy in this pie. Who even came up with this horrid thing?

‘Would you like some gravy with that, miss?’ Alfrid lisped in her ear. Brea couldn’t help herself and jerked to the side, almost ending up on Jen’s lap. The master’s deputy was hovering over her, holding a stained gravy boat in his right hand. She smiled faintly, but then shook her head before swallowing the big lump of meat. Of course. Alfrid. Who else in this wretched town?

‘You’re too kind, but I’m all set.’ She ensured him. ‘Thank you.’ Alfrid bowed deeply, not aware that he was making her uncomfortable. He smelled of sweat, fish and gravy. Brea held her breath and fixated her eyes on her plate. She had managed her way through most of the disgusting filling and now was left with the crust, which was both doughy and tough. A quick estimate told her she had to suffer three more bites, that is if their host hadn’t prepared something for dessert.

If she had been paying attention to Alfrid instead of the sad content on her plate, she would have noticed that his eyes were on the soft swelling of her breasts beneath the low neckline of her dress, not on what was in his hands. His grip on the sauceboat loosened.

As it tilted, all the gravy fell in one big lump over the edge, splashing on its poor victim below.

‘Oh!’ Brea cried out, absolutely horrified by the thick fluid running over her shoulder. It dribbled over her dress before most of it disappeared beneath her bodice. ‘Oh, miss- miss Brea!’ Alfrid stammered. ‘My sincerest apologies. Let me help you-’

Before Brea knew it, total chaos developed around her. Alfrid tried to get the gravy boat out of harm’s way, but managed to swing the last of its contents on the floor and then quickly exited the room while shouting for the town’s hall poor servant. Jen and her mom simultaneously rushed from their seats to help out their kin, as Brea was already dabbing the most tainted places with her napkin.

In her haste to aid her daughter, Mîrhel did not notice the puddle of gravy on the floor and stepped on it. Though the fluid could not possibly be as slippery as Alfrid, it did manage to take its victim down. With a loud cry, Mîrhel slipped and fell backwards, her head barely missing the edge of the table. Brenion cursed and shot up to help his wife. He moved more careful, but still had to steady himself against the dining table in order not to trip. Brea got up too, suddenly forgetting about the state she was in, and crouched down to check on her mother.

‘Mother! Are you alright?’ Mîrhel smiled sourly, leaning on her husband while he helped her up into her chair. ‘Yes, Brea. I am. Just a fright, that’s all.’

From the head of the table, the master of Laketown had been watching the whole scene enveloping before his eyes, yet he still hadn’t said or done anything to comfort his guests. As Brenion was fussing over Mîrhel, Brea looked up at the man and a gulf of hatred resonated through her. He was a spiteful, vile man and she couldn’t believe that her father had let himself persuaded by this despicable person to move to Laketown…

‘What a waste of all that gravy!’ the master suddenly boomed. Brenion and his family stared at him. Next to her older sister, Jen shuffled with her napkin in an attempt to hide her silly grin. Brea heaved a sigh and shot her little sister a glance. Leave it up to Jen to find humour in a rather peculiar situation…

‘Agreed, brother.’ Brenion finally said, though hesitantly. ‘It is. But who would have thought that a gravy boat could lead to such an amusing order of events!’

Both men started to laugh and then resumed their conversation. Brea caught her mother’s gaze, the latter barely capable of hiding her emotions of pure shock. They listened in silence as the clattering noises in the hallway grew louder.

Alfrid returned, with the town’s hall female servant in tow. Her arms were filled with rags and somehow she also managed to carry a bucket filled with water. ‘Clean this up.’ Alfrid said nastily to the servant while roughly shoving her out of his way. The woman staggered, fighting hard to keep her balance. Brea opened her mouth to say something about his absolute rudeness, but below the table her mom kicked her daughter’s shins.

‘We will sort this out in a second, miss Brea.’ Alfrid chatted on, grabbing a rag and drenching it with water. He then moved towards her. ‘I have just the-’ ‘That will not be necessary!’ Brea hissed furiously, while grabbing his wrist and keeping his filthy fingers and wet cloth away from her. ‘But there’s still-’ the master’s deputy began. ‘I can see that, I have eyes.’ Brea cut him off rather haughtily. ‘I fear this dress needs to be washed entirely to get all the stains out.’

The next morning, Brea left with Jen to walk across town. Though Mîrhel still wasn’t too happy with her daughters strolling through Laketown without a proper chaperone (especially after coming home way past teatime only two days ago), the events of last night had exhausted all of them. When Brenion resumed the evening like nothing had happened, Mîrhel had stepped up and asked her brother-in-law if she and her daughters could be excused for the rest of the night. Begrudgingly, the master of Laketown had allowed them to go.

Alfrid had been watching them leave and Brea had felt nasty glare burning in her back until she had reached the safety of their home.

But all was over now and the sisters were safely wandering over the docks. Brea watched a few boatmen heaving cargo from their ships and enjoyed the soft breeze on her face, as Jen was having an animated conversation with one of the boatmen’s wives.

‘How was it?’ A soft voice suddenly behind Brea inquired. ‘Please tell me it was as bad as it sounded.’ Brea giggled and swirled around. Her grey eyes met with Bard’s hazelnut ones. ‘It’s good to see you alive and well.’ Bard said. ‘When I spoke Hilda-Bianca, she made it sound like you were devoured by the man himself.’ ‘Oh, there was gravy everywhere.’ Brea informed him, not surprised by now the whole town knew of last night’s events. ‘After rushing home, I took two baths and another one this morning, but it’s still there. As is the smell of Alfrid. My sincerest apologies.’ He sniffed before sending her a reassuring smile. ‘No, I think you’re fine.’ Brea pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. ‘That’s because you’re not close enough to me.’ The bargeman furrowed his brows together and took a step closer, until the distance between them was hardly ten centimetres. It was impossible not to notice the rancid flavour she bore with her, so she was surprised he still was by her side. His scent was far more pleasant anyway… it was light and heavy at the same time, somehow reminding her of a long, lovely walk in the woods. Brea’s heart jumped and she licked her lips. ‘Still nothing.’ Bard spoke softly. ‘I’d say you rather smell of flowers than a boatful of gravy.’ ‘You are lying, master Bard!’ He smiled faintly before leaning in. His whisper tickled her ear. ‘No, I am not.’

Her heart was racing inside her chest now. Brea watched his gorgeous features and briefly wondered why she hadn’t seen his wife yet. And how had he not been claimed by another lady if the children’s mother wasn’t around anymore…

Bard’s reassuring smile suddenly turned into a scowl and he reached for her neck. ‘What’s that?’ he murmured. ‘Is that…?’ ‘What?’ she gulped, panic assembling in her throat.

Oh goodness! Did she forget to scrub someplace? Or worse: did he somehow hear her shameful thoughts?

The bargeman smirked, his fingers ghosting over the skin behind her ear. Brea suppressed a shiver. ‘Just kidding, miss…’ he said with a small smile. They were still standing inappropriately close to each other, but neither showed the inclination to move away. Brea’s skin was still burning on the places where he had touched her and she found it particularly difficult to breathe. ‘So.’ She murmured softly. ‘You’re relishing in my misfortune. How ungentlemanlike.’ He chuckled lowly. ‘Well, maybe Alfrid was right about me and my family…’ ‘Really?’ Brea inquired. ‘At least you haven’t poured gravy down my neck, master Bard.’ ‘Not yet, miss Brea. Not yet.’ He mused with a sly smile, earning a giggle from her.

Somewhere in the distance, Brea heard Jenessa laughing. Rather annoyed by the disturbance, she glanced over at her sister. Jen now was charming one of the younger lads working at the docks. Brea heaved a weary sigh before turning to Bard.

‘I’m sorry. I have to go save my sister, before she ruins her reputation.’ ‘By merely conversing with that poor lad?’ Bard frowned. ‘I know him, he’s from a decent family.’ Brea groaned. ‘Oh, that’s not the problem. You don’t know Jen.’ ‘She seems like a passionate, kind young woman.’ He said. ‘Someone who knows what she wants.’ ‘That’s true.’ Brea replied. ‘But she’s a dreamer too. And that often leads her to forgetting there’s such a thing as etiquette and a fragile woman’s reputation. She just follows her instincts and let those guide her.’ ‘So she lives her life without regret.’ Bard concluded. ‘Has she learned that from you?’ Brea shook her head. ‘I tried that once. It did not work out.’

‘Ah! There you are!’ A nasty voice called out over the docks. ‘Miss Brea!’ They turned around and much to her shock, Alfrid was making his way towards them. Bard smiled politely, but his eyes flashed with a much darker emotion. Brea grabbed a hold of the bargeman’s sleeve, making him turn to her in surprise. ‘Do not leave me alone with that horrible man.’ She begged. ‘I’m fairly sure he’ll want to make amends with me and I’m not inclined to accept anything he has to offer.’ ‘You could just tell him that, miss.’ Bard declared. ‘The trick is not to be subtle.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t, the master of this town is-’

‘Well well…’ Alfrid said maliciously while forcing himself into their conversation. ‘Who do we have here? If it isn’t Bard, our bargeman. Don’t you have work to do?’ ‘Always a delight to see you, Alfrid.’ Bard replied coldly. ‘I could ask the same of you.’ ‘I’m tending to the master’s business, which is none of yours anyway.’ The master’s deputy retorted. ‘I came her in search of miss Brea. I need to speak to her.’ ‘What for? I believe already told you that I don’t need another apology.’ Brea said. ‘It’s alright, it was an accident and I’m over it.’ Alfrid inclined his head. ‘You’re too kind, miss. But I came here to inform you I’ve ordered the tailor to make you a new dress. It’s the least I can do after ruining your last one.’

For a moment, Brea stared at him. But Alfrid merely peered back at her. He did not start to cackle, nor did he explain to her it was a joke. He just seemed deadly serious. She shuffled on her feet. Though she did not want to accept this outrageous apology, she knew she had no choice. ‘No, you’re the one who is too kind.’ She conceded. ’I’m glad to accept your offer.’ Alfrid grinned and bowed shortly before turning his attention to Bard again. ‘Get to work, bargeman.’ He sneered. ‘Don’t you have mouths to feed?’ Bard narrowed his eyes. His jaw was clenched and Brea watched him as his gaze bore through the master’s deputy. There was a short silence, before Alfrid gave in and stalked off. ‘Be sure to give the tailor your measurements, miss Brea.’ He shouted at her before disappearing in the busy streets again.

Brea turned to the bargeman, who still looked like he was ready to punch a certain someone in the face. ‘Hey.’ She said softly and without thinking her fingers reached out to his arm once more. ‘He’s not worth it.’ Bard relaxed under her touch and smiled gently. ‘Well, at least he won’t order a dress for me. Didn’t you just say you weren’t inclined to accept anything?’ ‘I wasn’t.’ She muttered. His body warmth under her fingers made her aware of the little pulses that had started vibrate through her hands. It was a pleasant feeling, though it completely distracted her from their conversation. ‘Then why did you?’ She peered at him through her lashes. ‘Did what?’ ‘Accept that dress.’ He mused. ‘Oh. Yes.’ She blurted out, quickly moving her hand away. ‘My father. He will have my head if I’m rude to anyone influential, even someone despicable as Alfrid.’ ’And that’s exactly why your father shouldn’t care about him.’ ‘Maybe.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Well miss, I fear I have to leave you here. As much as I dislike that horrible creature, he’s right. I do have work to do.’ She nodded shortly and took a step back. ‘Of course.’ ‘In the meantime…’ he advised. ‘Do mind any gravy boats coming your way, will you?’ Brea grinned and waved. ‘I promise, good sir.’

She watched him boarding his boat which was docked nearby. He was moving with grace and certainty, clearly knowing his way around the boat and the waters. Once all was set, he reached for the push pole that was secured at the back end of the boat. Before he set off to the lake, the bargeman turned to look at the docks once more and caught her gaze. Brea bit her lip and couldn’t help but to smile foolishly.

‘Did you know his wife died?’ Jen suddenly hummed in Brea’s ear. ‘He was so heartbroken that he never remarried.’ ‘Jenessa!’ Brea cried out indignantly, ignoring the pleasant jolt in her abdomen. ‘Why would you say such an awful thing?!’ Jen shrugged. ‘I just wanted to give you some good news after the disaster yesterday.’ ‘How is someone’s wife dying good news?!’ Brea said. ‘Who even told you that?’ Her little sister pursed her lips together. ‘Sigrid did. I asked her about her mother and she explained that their ma died eleven years ago, shortly after giving birth to Tilda.’ Brea watched Bard and his boat disappear on the lake. ‘That must have been absolutely devastating for them.’ She whispered. ‘Not to mention the burden Tilda will carry with her for the rest of her life…’ ‘Luckily she still has her da, and her big brother and sister.’ Jen commented. ‘They are all very close.’ ‘I’ve noticed.’ Brea agreed. ‘They are a beautiful family.’ Jen glanced at her sister knowingly. ‘You fancy him, don’t you?’ ‘What?’ Brea shrieked, her cheeks already burning up. ‘Why would you think that?’ ‘The way you look at him.’ Her sister explained. ‘I’ve seen that same gaze with-’ ‘Do not say his name.’ Brea hissed. ‘I warn you.’ ‘Okay!’ Jen quickly gave in, holding up her hands in surrender. ‘I’m sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.’ Brea heaved a sigh. ‘I know, Jenny. But believe me, I do not fancy Bard. Sure, I like him, but I also adore his family. I think they’re good people who deserve a lot more respect from the master.’ Jen pulled her sister into an hug. ‘It’s the fact that they’re good people, that gets them into trouble. Sigrid is worried that her dad - I mean master Bard -’ ‘You seem to share a lot of thoughts with your new friend.’ Brea teased. ‘What’s up with that?’ Jen giggled happily. ‘Yes, she has an amazing vibe to her, just like her dad. When I met her at the market, I instantly knew I would like her very much…’

The next few weeks, Brea and Jen received more freedom. After everything that had happened in Minas Tirith (and not even taking their recent tea party in account), they both did not understand what had made their mother loosen the reigns, but they knew it was better not to ask. So instead, they enjoyed their renewed privileges.

Jen was often out and about in the town, spending time with Sigrid and Tilda. Brea enjoyed to take a daily walk in the early hours, because it meant Alfrid wasn’t there to harass her.

It also meant she would often run into Bard. Though Brea would rather die than to admit it, these daily short talks were the reason she was venturing outside anyway. He appeared in her dreams every night and if she could increase the chance of bumping into him, she’d gladly take it.

To ease her conscience (and an attempt to slam down any suspicion), Brea didn’t mind to run errands for her mother. That even sometimes meant to collect Jen from Bard’s home, which was a delight.

Brea knew she had to set her priorities straight, but she couldn’t see anything wrong with their friendship. Sure, maybe her motivations were slightly discreditable, but Bard was the representation of a perfectly honourable guy. He always was polite to her, and his kindness knew no boundaries. She also learned his mind was bright and as quick as a whip. In fact, when Bard wasn’t keeping his family safe and well-fed, he liked to pursue other interests like reading and archery.

There had been a few moments in which she had wondered if he was actually flirting with her, but each time it took her a few seconds to gather the courage to ask him what he meant and by then he already had changed the subject.

On this particular late afternoon, Brea had just collected her new dress from the tailor (that is, the dress Alfrid had picked out for her) and was making her way towards her home when she bumped into Hilda-Bianca. Ever since the dark haired woman, who was always wearing this strange ornate hat, had prevented Brea from paying too much at the market, Brea had developed a tight bond with her.

‘Hello Brea!’ Hilda-Bianca said with a gentle smile. ‘It’s strange to see you here, after what happened to your sister just an hour ago. Is she well?’ Brea felt the blood draining from her face and she almost dropped her package on the wooden docks. ‘I’ve been out all afternoon. What happened to Jen?’ ‘She tripped and fell in the water.’ Hilda-Bianca explained. ‘It happens to the best of us.’ ‘My sister can’t swim.’ Brea fretted. ‘Is she alright?’ ‘Yes, we noticed. Which is odd don’t you think?’ her friend said. ‘But not to worry, Bard just arrived in time. He dove in straight away and carried her to your home.’ Brea shook her head. ‘We grew up in Minas Tirith, so we never had the need to. I learned it only last year, from…’

She swallowed her last words. It had been Ruthron who taught her how to swim, during their secret getaways to Osgiliath…

‘No matter. Thank you, Hilda. I must go now!’ She stuck the package under her arm, gathered the seams of her dress in her hands and broke into a run.

When she finally reached her home, she was out of breath. She rushed through the backdoor, before slamming it in its frame. She threw the package containing her new dress on the kitchen counter and was ready to run upstairs when-

In her haste, she hadn’t noticed that Bard was sitting near the hearth. He was holding a cup containing a warm beverage and seemed to be wearing some of her father’s clothing. ‘Oh!’ she gasped, her cheeks flushing. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, master Bard.’ The bargeman raised from his chair and smiled gently. ‘It’s fine, miss.’ ‘I just heard… How’s Jen? And how are you?’ Brea worried. ‘And what happened?’ Bard put his cup away and moved through the kitchen towards her. ‘Jen is fine. She’s upstairs in bed and your parents are with her.’ He assured her. ‘She told me she wasn’t watching where her feet were going and before she knew it, she was in the water.’ ‘She can’t swim.’ Brea mumbled. ‘We never learned, it seemed insignificant to do so… Until now.’ ‘Luckily I was just done for the day, which meant I was near.’ Bard continued. ‘She wasn’t in the water for long.’

Brea looked up at his handsome face and her heart fluttered. The feelings she had repressed for the past few weeks, started to pulsate in her veins, making her breaths unsteady and her mind dizzy. Upon leaving Minas Tirith, she had sworn never to love again, but this… Bard was…

Her eyes brimmed with emotion and Brea realized restraining herself was pointless. With a soft cry, she jumped into his arms. Bard gasped in surprise, but caught her anyway. With his arms wrapped safely around her and her face buried in his neck, Brea felt a sense of safety she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

‘Oh, you incredible man…’ she whispered shakily. ‘Thank you.’ ‘Really, it’s nothing.’ He breathed. ‘I only did what anyone would have…’ ‘Shut up.’ Brea said and she could almost feel his smile.

They stood there in silence. Brea listened to his heart beating in his chest and revered in his warmth. His scent enveloped her being. ‘Brea.’ He spoke and she shifted. He was watching her with a soft look in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat. ‘We should not be standing like this.’ He tried, but at the same time he did not make an attempt to move away. ‘No.’ Brea agreed, doing the same. He and his gorgeous hazelnut eyes were mesmerizing, she could not tear herself away.

‘Your eyes are more blue than anything today.’ Bard murmured. ‘But I could swear yesterday they were more of a green shade.’ ‘It’s because- I mean… the colour of my dress.’ Brea explained, but her voice was no more than a whisper. His fingers ghosted over her jawline, his calloused hands leaving a burning trail on her skin. He sent her a rather rueful smile, the one Brea had gotten quite familiar with over the past few weeks. Whenever he came closer or when they had a good time, he always looked like he was sorry for it. Almost as if he felt somehow guilty…

‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered. ‘I can’t-’ he momentarily closed his eyes and stopped. ‘I won’t.’ ‘Won’t what?’ Bard clenched his jaw before answering. ‘You are so young, Brea.’ He then said. ‘And I’m an old man. This is foolery.’ ‘Foolery, huh?!’ she purred, sounding far more brave than she felt. Her tongue darted over her lips before she reduced even the small distance that still was between them.

A loud thud from upstairs shook them up and broke their embrace. Bard almost leaped backwards and then paced towards the door. ‘Tell your father I had to leave and that I’m sorry.’ He spoke, without really looking at her face. ‘I have work to do.’ ‘But-’ Brea objected, but before she could even voice her thoughts, he was gone…

Thank you so much for reading this chapter! Feedback is always welcome. Did you like my work? Spread the love and reblog! :) And here’s my Masterlist.

#the hobbit #bard the bowman #bard the dragonslayer #bard the bowman x oc #bard the dragonslayer x oc #bard x oc #bard the bargeman #bard the bargeman x oc #bard x reader #bard x brea #a tale as old as time #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #bard the bowman fanfiction #xxbyimm writes

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chroniclackofselfpreservation · 3 years

Text

A New Medium

AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS FIC IS SUPER META WAS INTENDED TO BE READ ON AO3. IF YOU CAN, I SUGGEST YOU READ IT THERE. HERE'S THE LINK.

Patton, Logan, and Virgil all appeared at Roman’s side, slightly disoriented.

“That should do it!’ Roman announced, looking around with pride. “Welcome to fanfiction!”

Virgil pulled his hood down over his eyes. “This is messing with my head. Can we just go back to the YouTube videos? I’d just gotten used to them.”

“Ooh! Look at the words! Whatever I say shows up!” Patton said with excitement, reading along as the prose lined the page.

Logan cocked an eyebrow. “I wonder what the parameters are. Deoxyribonucleic acid. Antidisestablishmentarianism. Rhodostemonodaphne capixabensis,” he rattled off, surprised to find the author could keep up with him.

Roman smirked at the words on the screen. “Time works differently for her. Whenever she stops typing, our world freezes,” he explained. Indeed, the author had had to look up that last word online before typing it out. Apparently, Logan knew the entire scientific name for an obscure Brazilian tree for some reason.

“So, what, she’s got super powers or something?” Virgil asked, peeking out from under his hood and at last inspecting his surroundings. “What do you mean, at last?” he grumbled, reading the words. “I was getting adjusted. Gimme a break.”

“Her?” Logan wondered. “I’m unaccustomed to being under the creative whims of someone aside from you or Thomas,” he said to Roman. “Have you met this person?”

Roman chuckled. “No. We can’t directly interact with her in this medium. She has a bio, though.”

Patton looked around for this so-called bio, unaware that the Profile tab on the left-hand side would lead him right to it.

“Oh! Thanks, invisible-writer-lady!” he said, skipping over to the bio with the rest of the gang following curiously. Roman watched them with amusement. As a facet of creativity itself, he was always slightly more aware of the mediums he was portrayed in than the other sides. This piece had been specially crafted to give them all perfect awareness of the medium.

“Exactly,” Roman said quietly, so only the author could discern his words. “Speaking of, I don’t appreciate all the angst you’ve been writing me—” he started, but unfortunately the scene had to move on, and Roman was cut off. Rolling his eyes, he joined the group at the profile page.

“Call me Nico, she/her,” Logan read aloud.

“What a pretty name! Hi, Nico!” Patton squealed, waving enthusiastically despite not being able to see the author. Regardless, she found this incredibly endearing.

“A pseudonym, perhaps?” Logan correctly assumed. “Interesting,” he muttered, “she not only describes what’s happening in real time, but also adds her own narrative voice to answer our questions. How peculiar.”

As the author and narrator, Nico was able to interact with the characters through prose. If she were to directly insert herself into the fic, she would become a character, controlled by herself. It hurt her brain to think about. Simply using her name and pronouns already tiptoed across that line—though having narrators as characters in literature wasn’t rare by any means.

“Nice username,” Virgil said, gesturing to the header on the left. “Definitely my speed.”

Patton squinted up at it, mouth moving silently as he deciphered the string of words. “Hey, that—is that true, Nico?”

“A chronic lack of self preservation is troubling, indeed,” Logan added.

Roman quickly explained to them that the username was more of a cynical joke than anything to be seriously worried about. Though, the author’s therapist might have something to say about it. Having discovered everything of note in the profile, the four of them made their way back to the fanfiction itself.

Virgil blinked. “What was that?”

“That was summary,” Roman explained. “It’s where she writes about something that already happened without staying in scene, like we are now.”

“Incredible,” Logan breathed. “I remember your explanation happening, but did not directly experience it. If I may ask, Nico, how much control do you have over us in this format?”

As the author of the fic, Nico had total control. The only reason the three of them were aware of her presence was because she wrote them that way. Roman had a nasty little habit of doing things his own way, despite her outlines. Curse his hyperaware creative streak.

Roman raised his hands innocently. “Hey, I’ve got to flaunt what I’ve got.”

Of course, I could always switch the perspective to first person instead of the sort of distant, omniscient third person I had been using before, but that automatically makes me (the narrator) also a character, since the last perspective had more of an implied ‘I’.

I can change the tense as well. Watch.

“This is super trippy,” Virgil says.

Logan adjusts his glasses. “Fascinating,” he gushes. “The verbs all changed.”

To save Virgil’s mind, the author reverted back to the simple past and third person perspective. That was what she wrote most of her fics in anyway, so it came naturally to her. Another facet of fic writing that she thought they might find interesting was a scene break.

“A scene break?” Patton asked.

Roman smiled. “Just watch.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

Virgil stumbled a bit, Roman steadying him with a hand. “That is such a strange feeling. I hate it.”

Patton pointed above their heads. “Look! A line!”

“It’s used to divide scenes up or signal the passage of time,” Roman explained. He glanced down, noticing the end of the fic approaching. “Before we go, guys, Nico wanted me to introduce you to the reader.”

“The reader?” Logan wondered. “Another omnipotent creator?”

Roman shook his head. “Over there,” he said pointing. Nico withdrew her guiding hand, allowing Roman the figurative wheel. She and the reader were separated by the insurmountable barrier of time and space. It was up to Roman and the others to interact with them.

Patton gasped. “I can see them! Hi, there!!”

“Jeez,” Virgil hissed in surprise, whirling around. “Were they watching us this entire time?”

Logan dipped his head cordially. “Salutations, reader.”

“Aw, they’re smiling,” Patton cooed, beaming. “How adorable.”

“Don’t patronize them, Pat,” Virgil muttered.

“Hush, Dr. Gloom,” Roman chided good-naturedly, nudging Virgil in the ribs. “Let the padre have this moment. Oh,” he said, turning his attention to you, “a pleasure meeting you, my dear.”

Patton frowned. “Is their mouth moving? I can’t hear them.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “CAN YOU HEAR—oh look, capital letters!”

“No, we can’t hear them, Patton, but I could see them blushing from a mile away,” Roman teased.

“Flirt,” Virgil muttered.

“Are you properly hydrated?” Logan asked, peering up at your face. “Have you gone outside today? Do take care of yourself, reader.”

“Aw, Lo, that’s sweet,” Patton said with a grin.

“I am merely looking out for their wellbeing, Patton.”

“Virgil, why don’t you say something?” Roman pressed. “I’m sure they’d love to hear from you.”

Virgil flushed, gripping the sides of his hoodie. He looked up at you warily. “Uh, hey,” he said with a tiny wave.

“Look, they loved it!” Patton said.

“The fic’s ending soon,” Roman said, watching its slow approach. “Everyone say bye.”

“Bye! See you later!” Patton called, entirely too loud, waving both hands in the air as if sending off a ship. “I love you! Be safe! Listen to what Logan said!!”

“Farewell,” Logan said, a faint smile playing at his lips.

“See ya, I guess,” Virgil said, trying to hide his steadily reddening face.

The three of them began retreating back where they came from, leaving Roman in the foreground with the reader. “You know, you can always come back here and see us again,” he said. “I’m sure they’d love it.”

Roman glanced down “Ah, look. There it is. The end. “

A marvelous white cape appeared on his shoulders, his prince outfit gleaming. Roman took an elegant, sweeping bow, chancing one last glance up at you.

He winked, a playful smile spreading across his face.

“That’s all folks.”

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kimshavacado · 5 years

Text

Dead Heat Ch. 7

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Arranged Marriage/Mafia AU

Summary: Three extremely powerful families with enough power to bring down entire governments, all with vastly different views on how things should be run. The Min family thinks everything can be solved with money, the Jeon family think everything can be solved with violence, and the Kim family relies more on thought which leads to a lack of action. When Kim Y/N loses her father, she only has one way to save herself and her family. But it involves having to give herself over to a stranger. How the hell is she not supposed to punch him in his stupid rich face?

Dead Heat Masterlist

Warnings: Language, Awkwardness

A/N: I had a dream about an ending different than I had originally planned so this chapter will decide which ending I use in the next chapters. There will be a decision Y/N will have to make, and I’ll appreciate your input into what she should do. Enjoy!

Chapter 7: I Always Sleep On Left

Jimin’s POV:

Jimin has been extremely bored recently. He blames this on the fact Jeon’s pulled everyone back, but he can’t help but think about the hole in his chest where you once were. He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Naturally, he finds himself at the same old bar watching the rest of the guys drink and dance with women. Most nights are like this recently, filled with bitter feelings and bitter alcohol.

He mindlessly takes out his phone and scrolls through his messages. He half scans the conversations until he gets to you. Against his better judgement, he opens the conversation and looks again at the last things you sent.

He reads through each of your pleas of reassurance. He could see you were worried, that is, until the messages stop. He stares at the screen until he’s had enough, then makes the stupid decision to scroll up.

He sees the text exchange you have before your wedding. Then he sees the one about your father. It doesn’t stop, he finds himself going back through the years, torturing himself.

Around the time he reaches some messages about past birthday shenanigans, Taehyung plops himself ungracefully in the chair next to Jimin. He closes the messaging app and focuses instead on his drink.

“Why do you look so depressed? You look like you’ve just been dumped or something.” Taehyung comments.

“Something like that.” Jimin replies, causing Tae to let out a sigh.

“Come on! We don’t have any responsibilities right now, you should be enjoying it while you can.”

“I know, I’m just bored. Honestly, I never thought I’d want to work so badly.” Tae laughs at this but is interrupted by a notification on everyone’s phones.

“Well it looks like you won’t have to wait long, we’ve got a meeting tomorrow. I hope boss has got plans.” Taehyung pats Jimin’s back before walking back towards the rest of the guys.

Jimin can only sit and hope for the best. What that was exactly, he doesn’t know yet. Instead of getting hammered, he thinks he’ll just call it a night and leaves early for once.

The meeting is buzzing. No one knows the entire story just yet, but they are aware that they’d finally be able to do something. Jungkook has shared his father’s immediate wishes.

As far as what the Min’s know, they’ve been assuming the worst. The only way to know for sure is to get their hands on everything they have. Cue the breaking in plan.

If there was a time when you and Yoongi were out of the house, there’d be practically no one to stop them. Everyone was concerned with the safety of you two, not the safety of the information you had.

The plan would get them the info and also had the advantage of being a scare tactic. We could reach you before and we still can.

When Jimin hears this, many thoughts go through his head again. He’s torn over all the different ending scenarios in his head. He’s only pulled out of it when the meeting ends and everyone leaves. He needs to pull himself together.

Your POV:

You lie in your bed and stare at the ceiling, still having questions stirring around in your head. You really hated Yoongi’s habit of not cluing you in on things, it made you feel vulnerable and not in control.

Speaking of vulnerable, you can’t help but be paranoid. It’s at least obvious that someone had broken into the Min mansion. Yet here you are, just pretending nothing happened, sent to bed like a child. You’re starting to resent your relationship with Yoongi again. Him attempting to protect you is doing nothing but make you feel more like a child.

When you close your eyes, you can’t seem to quiet your mind. These thoughts of the unknown and the knowledge that someone could’ve been in your room looking through your things tonight cause you to be restless. You can’t just sit there anymore.

A second later you find yourself standing in the hall outside your door. No destination in mind, you just need reassurance. But you’re not quite sure what you need to be reassured of yet. The hallway is dark and eerie so you head towards the lighter end where it opens to the main staircase.

When you reach the end of the hall you hear voices from the grand foyer. You tiptoe across to the other side of the stairs to avoid catching any of their attention. It’s then that you realize you’ve found your way to the door to Yoongi’s study. You go to knock but hesitate. What we’re you even going to say?

“He’s not in there.” A voice scares the shit out of you and you not so gracefully collapse against the door of the study. When you come to your senses, you recognize the face as the guard you incapacitated during one of your first nights living here.

“Jesus! Not cool. At all.” You silently reprimand him.

“Just trying to save you the mental dilemma of figuring out if you should knock.”

“Well I’d appreciate it if you’d save that for when there’s no fear of death while walking around the halls.” You huff out.

“Well I’d appreciate it if I wasn’t decked by the new lady on her first night, but then again, there’s some crazy ass people out there.”

You scoff.

“Like I said, he’s not here. He went to bed a bit ago.” He says before you can make another comeback. You decide try your luck for answers.

“Who are the guys downstairs?” You ask. He lets out an uninterested sigh and starts to walk away.

“Go ask your husband.”

You decide that you now feel no remorse for knocking him out before.

Eventually you find yourself back at your bedroom but instead of going inside you look down to Yoongi’s bedroom door at the end of the hall. Would he still be awake?

You shuffle your way down the hall and put your ear to the door. After about ten seconds, you don’t hear anything so you turn around and stare back the way you came. The next couple minutes is a very awkward back and forth of walking from your door to his and then changing your mind.

You’re leaning against the frame of the doorway, still trying to figure out what to ask him. Of course, that’s when the door cracks open.

Yoongi’s head pops out with a look of suspicion like he’s confronting some unknown wild animal. His face is inches from yours for a moment. You immediately straighten yourself

“What… are you doing?” He asks, rightfully weirded out.

“Um… Just… walking around?” You visually cringe at the unconvincing answer.

“Uh, you probably… shouldn’t. We’ve got guests.” The entire conversation is incredibly awkward because of your weird behavior. The pauses in between your and his sentences are almost unbearable.

“Is it because of the break in?” Duh, of course it is, why are you asking him that?

“Yeah. There’ll be more people tomorrow. I’ll tell you about it then.” You nod before looking down at your feet. After another uncomfortable pause Yoongi sighs and opens up his door a bit more.

“Y/N, why are you walking around outside of my door in the middle of the night? It’s not because you want to ask about those men, you’re smart enough to figure that out by yourself.”

You don’t really know why you were drawn to Yoongi, because he doesn’t really know much more than you do yet. And now he’s calling you out on it, but you don’t know how to answer. You’re just glad that Yoongi is patient enough to wait for you to figure it out.

“Jimin…” You stop, finally realizing the issue you seem to have.

“My god, why am I going to tell you this?” You whisper to yourself. You rub your face as if that would help gather yourself. Your eyes connect with Yoongi’s.

“After my home was broken into, when I was younger, I…Jimin…helped me. I’d experienced how easy it was for them to just…” You take a deep breath as you look away from him again. “I had him then. He stayed with me because…I was scared.”

You open your mouth to continue. Maybe find some sort of way to keep up your façade and say you weren’t scared. Trying to prove something, but the words don’t come out.

Yoongi nods in a sort of understanding. Which is weird because you still haven’t actually given a reason to why you came to him.

“Alright. Look, on the condition that you leave the awkwardness here, you can stay here. With me. If you want.”

“Um, I didn’t..”

“Well, you asked without asking.” Your frozen state causes him to explain his decision more. “What kind of a guy would I be to have my wife suffer through her past without me.” Sometimes he just says the weirdest shit.

He turns heel and walks into his room but leaves the door open for you to follow. It’s dark inside but you try to analyze the layout and décor. He suddenly turns around sharply and points a finger at you.

“You’re not going to jump me, right?” He asks, very accusatory.

“What!? NO.” You say, a bit horrified as to what he meant.

“Kidding. I’m a light sleeper anyway. I’d see you coming.” He laughs and you see his façade fade in less than a second. How can he go from serious to joking that quickly? It’s mentally exhausting to witness.

“I have something to take care of real quick anyway. I’ll be back in a few, just… go to sleep I guess.” He states before sneaking out the door leaving you alone.

What is even happening right now? You’re in his room about to sleep in his bed. His bed is bigger and looks warmer than the one you were given down the hall. And despite his personality, he seems to have excellent taste in décor.

To save your mind from overworking again you decide to just do as he said and attempt to sleep. Maybe it’s the welcoming embrace of the softest sheets you’ve ever felt in your life or maybe it’s the knowledge that Yoongi will be back, but something finally allows you to drift off. Shit, you could get used to this.

For once, you don’t dream about the past. Tonight you look to the future.

Jimin’s POV:

They have been told it’s been about 20 minutes since you left by the time they arrive. They have placed their men strategically as to not alert anyone inside. Jimin is somewhere on the side of the building listening to the surveillance team.

“All I see is two on the main floor. Just guards.”

“No need for elaborate avoidance then. Take them out and we’ll be able to waltz in.”

“I’ll take team alpha in straight through the front then.”

Jimin practically goes through the entire plan just watching. Many people, a few gun shots, and order to enter.

“You know what we’re looking for. Find anything. Meet back here in 20 minutes.”

“Jimin let’s go find his office!” Taehyung cheerfully chants while skipping up the stairs. As he follows up the stairs all that goes through his mind is how wrong this all feels.

He doesn’t get to wallow in the mental crisis for long before Taehyung is kicking down the door to Yoongi’s study.

“Wow! This place looks like it’s owned by an old man!” Taehyung makes fun of the dark wood furniture and old dusty books. “I’ll start at the cabinets, you wanna go through the desk?”

“Sure.” Jimin responds blandly. He shuffles through all the documents on the desk before reaching for the drawers. Inside he finds conveniently labeled envelopes with the info they are looking for.

“Woah! You got it? Man, that’s a lot.” Taehyung takes one of the folders. He looks through it as Jimin looks through the one with your name on it.

“How’d they get these pictures of us?” Taehyung shows him the pictures of their group and looks back to the ones in your folder.

“There’s no way they don’t know what we’re trying to do.” Jimin says grimly.

“Come on! Let’s take these downstairs.” Taehyung slaps his back before scooping up some folders and walking out the door to the study. Jimin waits a very long few seconds before he follows.

The next morning, as Jimin finds himself lost in thought, Taehyung approaches him again, persistant as ever.

“Whatever you’re thinking about is eating you alive. Think about something else for once, you’re no fun when you’re depressed.” He whines. He’s actually a good friend and cares for Jimin in his own way. Jimin nods in acknowledgement to his statement.

“Let’s go out, I think it’d do you some good. I’ll even let you pick.” Taehyung offers Jimin. “We could invite the hyungs, like old times.” He gives a bright, innocent looking smile. Jimin puts his face in his hands.

“Maybe your right.” He needs to remember why he’s here. He needs to just quiet the war in his mind for good, and he might know a way he can do that.

Your POV:

You’re very warm. Hot almost, but not uncomfortably so. You come half into consciousness before going wide eyed at the face centimeters from yours. It seems like he had crawled into bed on the same side you had already occupied last night.

You stop breathing and slowly inch backwards until there’s an appropriate distance between you two. When he moves a bit you freeze yourself. He opens his eyes and reads your freaked out expression before rolling his eyes and closing them again.

“I always sleep on left.”

After a few minutes, you slowly escape the warmth of the bed to sneak out. If Yoongi notices, he doesn’t try to stop you. You head back to your room, which now feels cold and lonely. You wash up, get dressed, and prepare yourself for the undoubtedly long day your about to have because of the men downstairs.

Just as you throw on a sweater, you hear your phone ring. It’s such a mundane thing that it takes you a second to realize that no one should be calling you. As you stalk over to your phone cautiously, your heart sinks to your feet when you read the name on the screen.

Jimin.

** Do you answer or decline? **

A/N: Do you answer or decline? The decision is one that will determine the ending and will directly affect the lives of multiple characters. As Y/N, think about what the choice means for others. Do you want to make things messy? Do you want to fight for what you believe? Do you trust him? What do you do?

Next Chapter

Tags: @badbyeyoongi @whothefuckstolemykeds @xxqueenwxtchxx @alecmidnight @rjsmochii @itsrapmonstanotdancemonsta @ superarmyofdreamersuk

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queer-heart-attack · 4 years

Text

Driving Home For Christmas (Roger x f!reader)

Summary: Twas the night before Christmas, Roger's on his way home to you for Christmas and takes a detour down Memory Lane.

A/N: I usually write on my writing side blog @roseskiesandbutterflies but I’m using this for the Secret Santa so here we go.

So here is my gift for @borhapparker ‘s Secret Santa! I wrote this for @benders-diamond-earring so please let me know what you thought of it! Sorry, it’s very late. Christmas ended up being busier than expected. I am aware the song was not released at the time this is set but oh well.

Also merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it and for everyone who doesn’t, I hope you have a good week! Also, I hope everyone has a great 2020 too.

Warning(s): swearing, cigarettes

Inspiration: the song, the complete lack of Christmasness around here made me want to create some goodness

Word Count: 1.3k+

Taglist: @briarrose26 @bhmay @bijoukitty @benders-diamond-earring (just for this but let me know if you want to be on it permanently)

Ask to be on my taglist! Let me know if it’s for a specific fandom(s). All of them are in the bio of my writing side blog @roseskiesandbutterflies

*24th December 1975*

As the last chords of God Save The Queen rang out, and as the audience filtered out of the venue, the four members of Queen had taken their last bows and were now leaving the stage, some more reluctant than others. They were all buzzing, the adrenaline rush of perforing radiating from them in waves. Nothing could prepare them for the thrill, its sheer power still shocking them after five years of performing together. Unfortunately, the high had to wear off somehow and Roger was usually the first to suggest celebratory drinks of some description. However, this night was different, for it was Christmas Eve and Roger was quite frankly itching to get home. He loved a good drink as much as the next guy but tonight, he had priorities for once in his life.

You.

You had been a whirlwind presence in Roger’s life the second Miami introduced you as his new assistant back in 1973. He had made the grave mistake of underestimating you when you first arrived, thinking your personality would reflect your stature. He could not have been more wrong and he was secretly grateful for it. You had been the change he needed without either of you realising it.

"Gentlemen," Miami addressed the band, formal as always. The replies he received were far from it but well-meant all the same, "I want to introduce a new colleague of mine to you all. Her name is (Y/N) and she is going to be working with me for the foreseeable future," he then turned to the young woman who had entered the recording studio by then, "(Y/N), this is Queen, I'm under the assumption you are aware of who everyone is?”

The woman in question, (Y/N), blushed ever so slightly before confirming Miami's statement, "Hi, I'm working mainly as Jim's assistant but if you need anything, you can always ask me."

The band shared a look as if they could read one another's minds, before reaching an apparent conclusion. Roger piped up, pissing off Brian who the lady assumed had been elected to speak first, "Miami."

There was nothing she could think of to say in response to that and it must have been evident on her face as Freddie quickly jumped to her rescue, "We call Jim Miami instead, darling. Bit less boring, wouldn't you agree?"

She glanced at Jim, no sorry Miami, who merely shrugged his shoulders in response as if to say he had had no say in the matter. She redirected her attention to the boys to see Freddie elbow a now tomato-faced Roger. She shot the latter a reassuring smile which for some reason only deepened his blush and made (Y/N) giggle to herself.

Even now as he was trying to find the shirt he had discarded a while ago, he was thinking about you, although missing you immensely might be the better phrase to use. The packing-up routine passed by in a blur and at some point he was so unresponsive that he might as well have been a ghost. This alarmed all except for John, as he was the only one who was used to Roger acting in such a way. He was the only one who knew firsthand what that glazed look meant, having been with Veronica for quite some time. While Brian and Freddie kept trying to catch his attention in fear of Roger droppng some seriosuly heavy equipment on his own sodding foot, John merely took the case Roger was holding from him and said, “Go find your love before you crash into something.”

Only then did the other half of Queen understand what was going on and chased Roger out like a mother would to her child who was late for school. Calls of “let us know when you’re home!” and “damn you and your love life!” soon faded into background noise as Roger somehow found his car and quickly drove off.

He suddenly found himself cursing the late London traffic as, soon enough, he found himself at the first of many standstills. Realising that what should be a relatively short journey was going to be anything but, he flicked his car radio on to fill the suffocating silence that had fallen like a blanket. The voice of Jean Challis pierced through the quiet, talking animatedly about Christmas shopping before introducing the next song, of course it had to be a Christmas song, which was the one Elton John released last year. Roger lent back in his seat, knowing he was going to be here for a while. The bright crimson tail lights of the car in front of him were blinding him to a degree where he was seriously considering putting on his godforsaken glasses to avoid permanent damage to his already shitty sight. Even with the radio on, he found his mind drifting off again.

You wandered onto the balcony, needing some fresh air and a break from the roaring party inside. Although fresh air was off the table the second you opened the door; a dragon’s breath worth of cigarette smoke blew into your face. You coughed far more dramatically than necessary as you already knew who the perpetrator was.

Roger fucking Taylor.

“Thought I told you to stop with the smoking, Taylor,” you reprimanded him, trying to sound as much like a disappointed parent as possible.

“Thought I told you to stop catching me out, (Y/L/N),” he turned his head to look at you, the smug smile he wore was wiped away as soon as he saw you actually struggling to breathe, “Are you OK? Shit,” he quickly threw the cigarette off of the balcony. He moved forward as if to help you, but suddenly stopped, unsure of what to do.

“I might as well smoke the damn things myself the amount of smoke I inhale thanks to you,” you joined him properly on the balcony, leaning on it with your forearms. The view wasn’t much, just the rather shabby garden of whoever’s house this was. Roger’s snort caught your attention and you couldn’t help giggle yourself, which then turned into a chuckle from Roger, a breathy laugh from you, another snort from Roger which then set you both off into fits of laughter. After a while you were breathing heavily to regain some kind of control, “I don’t even know what’s funny,” and you were off again.

He gave you the most serious look and said, “It’s not the alcohol is it?” and you couldn’t help but laugh at his deadpan-ness.

After a further couple of minutes, you saw him reach for a cigarette from his back pocket so you swatted his hand away, “Not on my watch, mister,” you eyed him suspiciously as if he’d just stolen the crown jewels, “What is it going to take for you to stop for good?”

He tapped his fingers on the iron railing of the balcony for a moment before replying, “I don’t think I could just quit like that,” there was a hint of shame in his eyes so you decided to let him off a bit.

“OK then,” you thought for a second, “What would I have to do to get you to smoke less?”

An idea flashed in his eyes, though it was gone in an instant and instead replaced with amusement, “Go on a date with me and I’ll consider it.”

It was only meant as a joke, you knew it really, maybe it was the alcohol or the amount you cared for him or the fact that you knew deep down you treated him differently than you did the rest of the band, but you somehow found yourself saying, “Alright then.”

You were shocked at yourself with that and if Roger’s face was anything to go by, then so was he, “Wait are you serious?”

“Are you?” the response was quick and testing. You needed to know his real intentions.

He visibly gulped, almost like a cartoon, then said, “Yes. Yes I am.”

I know it’s quite short so sorry about that, but I wanted to write at least half of it so you know I hadn’t forgotten or anything. Let me know if you’d want the rest of it because I’d be more than happy to do so.

#queen x reader #roger taylor x reader #bohemian rhapsody x reader #roger taylor #john deacon #Freddie mercury #brian may #queen imagine #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor one shot #queen one shot #borhapparker's borhap secret santa

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