#and she is my first ever rig
Note
Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss
intertwined ribbons
ABOUT
alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated
rating: general audiences/teen & up
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.9k
description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.
tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor
author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol
(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)
“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion.
“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?”
“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!”
“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.”
You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.”
“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.”
“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.”
You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman.
You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought.
Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her.
“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”
Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.”
You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed.
“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.”
“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.”
Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated.
“I am not—”
“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.”
You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand.
You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—
“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?”
“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.”
“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.”
You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up.
“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.”
With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said.
“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.”
You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?”
“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe.
The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about.
“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.”
You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed.
“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.”
You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?”
Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.”
“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.”
Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.”
You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?”
“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.”
“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.”
Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.”
The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.”
“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room.
You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.
A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.
“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?”
Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door.
“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.”
“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!”
“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on?
You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled.
Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”
You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you.
“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.”
You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably.
“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor.
You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.”
The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?”
Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.”
“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.”
Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in.
“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there.
“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.”
“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin.
You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?”
“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair.
“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly.
“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief.
“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed.
“Get up. Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said.
“Okay, so neither of us do.”
Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”
You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.”
“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?”
“Uh, nothing.”
“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?”
It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?”
“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.”
“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it.
“Well?” Zoro prompted.
“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.”
“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.”
“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.”
“I haven’t—”
“Don’t.”
You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.”
Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?”
“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.”
“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?"
“Positive. It’s all me.”
“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”
“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed.
You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.
You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?”
There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”
“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.”
There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?”
Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.”
“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered.
“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh.
“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.”
“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.”
You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him.
“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?”
“Hm?”
“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—”
“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought.
“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”
Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?”
You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.”
“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.”
“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe.
Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered.
“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped.
Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?”
“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.”
You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.”
“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.”
You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.
Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between.
You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body.
He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly.
You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered.
Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught.
He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.
So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black.
The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn.
Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together.
“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?”
“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.”
“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.”
“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…”
“First?” you prompted.
Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.
A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go.
The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight.
A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”
“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.
“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—”
“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”
“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.”
“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.”
You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while.
Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass.
© halfvalid 2023
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Lilly: Good morning New Babel, you're listening to Screw Loose, your favorite early-morning exo rig and rig maintenance rig show this side of the white river, I'm Lilly.
The Bear: And I'm the Bear, and you- are on the air. What can we help you with?
Caller: Hello! Hi! So, uh, first time caller. My name is Zuri. I run a barley and flesh farm about an hour south of Isin. I'm in the market for a new rig. My last rig kicked the bucket. But I have an, uh, odd request that I was hoping you two could help give me some guidance on.
The Bear: Welcome to the show doll, we'd be happy to help. But first, I gotta ask, what were you running before and what happened to it?
Lilly: Yeah! We gotta know what we're dealing with here.
Zuri [beginning to laugh]: So we had an Arcadia Y-400-
[both hosts erupt into laughter]
Lilly: And it broke!?
The Bear: Doll what in the hell did you do to this thing!?
Zuri: [laughing] Listen! Listen! It was my grandfathers! We had been replacing parts on this thing since before I was born! It was its time!
The Bear: Lilly, is she dodging the question?
Lilly: I think she's dodging the question, Bear.
The Bear: Okay okay, so what exactly did you do to destroy this extraordinary museum piece?
Zuri: [laughing] Oh gosh I don't want to say it now.
[The hosts erupt with encouragement]
Zuri: My sons will play this game, where I'll be out working in the field. You know, rigged up, focusing on tilling. They'll sneak up behind me with their rigs on, jump up, curl up into a little ball, and try to lock themselves to my back-jack in the cargo position...
[The hosts are howling with laughter]
Zuri: They're- They're damn good at it too! My oldest, Zair, can do it in on solid motion. Its like one moment I'm minding my own business, the next moment I have a whole kid in a 100 pound work rig locked to my back!
Lilly: What a riot! Oh this is just dangerous to put on the air.
The Bear: Ahem, to all the parents at home we apologize in advance, please don't sue us.
Zuri: So- So one day- One day my youngest tries it, but he doesn't twist around fast enough, and the aux battery on the left arm clips an exposed spinal neurohelix. Zap! Neuros are fried. My legs and arms lock straight like stilts! Now I'm swearing up a storm, you know- "You little rats!" But I'm hobbling like a circus performer trying to chase em down and they're just dying. Musta been the funniest damn thing they've ever seen.
[The hosts continue to laugh uproariously at this]
The Bear: Doll we gotta get to advice part of the show or the network is gonna give YOU a show.
Lilly: What a way to go! You hit an aux to the spinal braid? That's fried. Done. Kaput. You gotta scrap that thing.
Zuri: Yeah, we've already gutted it. Old girl is rusting in the barn for parts now. Zair is a whiz, so I'm hoping he can get some good use out of it.
The Bear: So we hear you're looking for a new rig?
Lilly: What's your price point love?
Zuri: We've got a good chunka cash built up. We're looking at something in the 600 to 700 washer range.
The Bear: That's pretty good for a work rig. You've got a lot of choices.
Lilly: I have a sneaking suspicion that this price point has something to do with your special request?
Zuri: So, my oldest, Zair. I recently learned that he's been uh. Well gosh now I'm embarrassed about this too!
The Bear: Doll c'mon don't hold out on us!
Lilly: You called, we can handle it!
Zuri: I learned that Zair had been using the Arcadia to race on the weekends. He and some of the local kids would run street races at night. He's been rigging a grapple harness to the waist-jack, and stripping it before I need the rig for monday morning.
[The hosts laugh at this, though not as hard]
Lilly: Ha! So what you're saying is you want the biggest, slowest, beached-whale rig you can get? Something just impossible to race?
The Bear: I'm thinking an HR&R Pauldron, Heavy Industrial. With that type of money you can get the new 900 series. Ask for the high-stability option-
Zuri: No no! No you don't understand! The damn kid keeps placing last because he's been racing in a junker! What I'm lookin' for is something I can use as a work rig for the days, that's easy to strip and good to race on the weekends. I want it safe, you hear me? I can't stop this kid from racing, so I might as well get something that'll keep his skull together.
[The hosts explode into laughter again]
Lilly: You! You're a good mom! What I wouldn't give for a mom like you!
The Bear: Ma'am, one day, when I grow up, I wanna be like you. I wanna be that typea mom.
Zuri: So, can you help me?
[The hosts can be heard stage whispering for a moment, followed by the sound of cracking knuckles.]
The Bear: Okay. You've got a lot of good options here. My friend here wants you to get a sport rig, but that's not gonna have the torque you need for farmwork: Here's what you're gonna do-
Lilly: Would to! Have you seen what the Roadrunner 600 can do? Six point neuro uplink! Eighty pneumatic helices per leg! Tell me that's not good enough to rig a plow!
The Bear: The dirt Lil! We need solid-body articulation! Using a pneumo-helix for farmwork is like pouring sand into clockwork!
Lilly: You replace the dermis with a synthetic sheathe! I get no respect around here!
The Bear: Zuri, doll, here's what you're gonna do: You're gonna go to your local Post Office outpost. You're gonna ask if they have any old courier shipping rigs. You want middlegrade. Ask specifically if they have an Albatross W-500, or if you're lucky, an LH-640. These are long-haul light-load shipment rigs. They're ugly, but they're sturdy as hell, built for carrying things long distances through rough terrain.
Lilly: The kicker here is that they're both light-combat certified. Built-in medical and shock response treatment. You'll need to replace the medical gel canisters every few months to make sure they're fresh... And if a certain someone wanted to maybe engage in a little bit of light illegal street racing...
The Bear: Well the Albatross line is built to be constantly refitted for different weathers and terrains. So someone, not saying who, might have a real easy time stripping the plating for speed. That sound good doll?
Zuri: That sounds perfect, thank you so much girls!
The Bear: Perfect! Thank you for the call, you'll have to tell us how it goes!
Lilly: Please love we beg you! Call again! Toodle-oo!
Zuri: Thank you again!
[The caller hangs up, the show transitions into a commercial break]
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Dark!Coriolanus Snow x Reader: gilded cage
18+ smut, possessiveness, toxic af,
Snow was a manipulative bastard and yet he was so charming that now he sat in front of the capitol as President, something which terrified Y/n to her core as he held out his hand towards her. Much like her husband she wore all white, a beautifully crafted white dress with roses embellished all over the skirt identical to the one Coriolanus wore on his breast pocket. Stepping forward Y/n placed her bejewelled hand in his, their wedding bands touching as he wove his fingers between hers and stood. Kissing her hand as she bowed to her husband, the President of the capitol and all the districts, an honour bestowed upon him yet Y/n had no doubt this would happen some day, just not so quickly. Coriolanus turned to the audience, pulling Y/n close as he placed a kiss on her forehead, hearing the crowd cheer for their President and his Victor from district 12. His first victor, his first love and his little pet.
Y/n could feel his hand on her back as many of the Capitols elite and powerful congratulated him, each one grinning ear to ear as he thanked them, tapping his fingers to signal Y/n to talk. Her hand coming out to introduce herself and thank them for voting for her husband, although she was sure it had been rigged in his favour. He was fond of cheating, he cheated so she could win her games a few years ago, cheated the system to keep her in the capitol and most certainly cheated to become President. Although she wasn't permitted to call it cheating when they argued about his manipulative nature, no that word made him angry and he'd shout that he only did what was necessary. That she'd be dead without him, some nobody from district 12 that even her parents would forget to mourn, at first his words had stung, had given him a chance to comfort her and apologise. Hold her in his hands whilst she cried that the world wasn't fair, let him whisper sweet things of how he was only saving her but over time his sweet words hurt more than the insults, they cut deeper. Reminded her how she'd been caught by the snake, locked away from her family and treated as though she was lucky for being slowly destroyed by Snow.
"It is so wonderful to see the Capitol's darling doing so well, President Snow you did a beautiful job with this one." Y/n could feel her eye twitch, the comment angering her, they all spoke about her like she was an animal he'd tamed and made perform. Not that they were wrong, unfortunately she was an animal to them, a dirty, pitiful nobody who Snow had dusted off, put in pretty dresses and showed off to the rich. A doll dressed up for the masses, just like the victors after her, although she was in a gilded cage, locked away from all but her husband, they were in a similar condition. The victors village, another genius idea from her husband, so the Capitol could visit them, see how they coped after the games. See them reunite with their families and congratulate themselves on allowing those outside the capital to thrive under their watch. It disgusted Y/n, another element of control that Coriolanus enjoyed exploiting, it had only been 5 years since her games yet so much had changed. The arena was harsher, more cameras, more blood shed and now the reason to win, protect your family and give them everything they could ever want. Not like in her games or those before where you were sent back to your district to starve, to work yourself to the bone whilst the blood stained your hands.
"I am so proud to be apart of the Capitol, it has been an honour to marry Coriolanus, i fell for him the moment i saw him as i stepped off that train. He was the first gentleman i'd ever truly met, he gave me the most beautiful rose and since then he had my heart." Y/n repeated the same story she'd told for the past 4 years, almost like a robot as the words came out, her cheeks hurting as she smiled and looked at Snow. His blue eyes staring down at her as he gave her an approving smile, loving how she followed the script he had for her, not allowing her to speak freely. He called her his dove but she felt like a mockingjay, repeating his words over and over. That word was also a big no, he despised the birds, claimed they were failures of the Capitol and she should never compare herself to such a disaster.
"You have been married for almost 4 years now, shall we start preparing for babies soon?" One of his Academy 'friends' joked, whilst Y/n's blood ran cold she could almost feel the burning desire in Coriolanus as he laughed and joked back something Y/n couldn't hear over the pounding of her heart. She knew he wanted children, he'd always wanted to be President more and she'd played that against him, reminded him that he had to think of his career. Placated him as he stood in the mirror, her perfectly manicured hands wrapped around his middle as she pressed against his back. Goating his ego, he had work to do, he was going to be President and become the most powerful man in Panem, President Snow. He loved to hear those words come from her mouth, it stroked his ego to no end and would distract him from his desire to have her round his baby. Instead he would demand she bend the knee to her President, would exert as much power as he could over her, make her thank him for everything she had and everything she would ever be given, all thanks to him. But it was better than carrying his child, nurturing his child and watching that child grow up to be him. It didn't matter what influence she could have on the child, she could spend hours upon hours teaching them morals, teaching them to be good, she knew they'd be like him. Tigris had once told her of how Coryo was good, was misunderstood and told her tales of their childhood that made Y/n almost feel pity for Snow, almost. But each story still lead to where he was now, a possessive, controlling and paranoid man.
In the first year of being victor she'd been so jumpy, hearing things, thinking she was being followed, driving herself into madness with fear. She'd had countless accidents with hurting people from being spooked, and thought she'd never recover from the games, that it was just in her head and she was losing it. Until he'd finally talked to her, confessed his feelings and told her he knew she felt the same, that he'd been there the whole time. That he'd been protecting her, had seen how she'd not been able to cope without him and suddenly all her fears rolled into own person, Coriolanus Snow who had been orchestrating her downfall since she left the arena. Suddenly her Mother and younger brother were being put in the new 'Victor Village' unveiled before the 11th hunger games, with Y/n and her family waving happily to the districts and a speech of how wonderful life was to be a victor.
"You did so well my dove." Y/n looked up at Coriolanus as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, his hands barely touching her arms as he did. Pulling away he smiled down at her before lightly grasping her chin, pulling her into a searing kiss which she reciprocated after a small, sharp grip to her arms. Coriolanus pulled back, grinning as he stepped away and turned to begin removing his suit jacket, hanging it carefully to stop it creasing.
"Can i see my family, please Coryo. It has been almost a year since i last saw my mother." Y/n could feel her voice getting weaker as she spoke, seeing him slouch slightly as he let out a sigh making her wring her hands in front of her before he abruptly turned. Y/n looked down at her hands as he approached, aware of his body towering over her, almost like she was a small child asking a parent for something.
"Do you think you deserve such a reward? My sweet dove." Y/n let go of her hands and placed them behind her back, forcing herself to look up at him as he stood with his arms crossed. This was a test, much like all the others he'd presented to her over the years. She thought one day she'd have mastered how to answer but her palms still became clammy, her chest tightened and she felt dizzy the same as the first time he'd asked her such a simple question.
"I think i deserve whatever you give to me." Y/n could see him preen at the obvious submission, a cat like grin taking over his features as he moved fast, leaning down and hoisting her into his arms as Y/n yelped in surprise.
"And if i think i deserve more for such a reward? What would you give to me, what would you do to see them?" His hands held her thighs in a deadly grip as he walked them through the apartment, her hands gripping his shoulders as her eyes darted around trying to gauge her surroundings.
"Dove." His tone held a warning as her eyes dropped back to his as he slowed his pace and pressed her against a wall, her eyes moving to where their bed sat behind him, the sheets newly changed and perfectly arranged. Moving her eyes back to his as she tried to hide her fear, recalling what his old friend had said, she knew what he wanted. He'd always wanted it, and now nothing she said could be put inbetween. He was holding her family against her for a family of his own, although even if she hadn't asked, she'd still be in the same position. Being told to ask for it.
"I don't know." Y/n stuttered out, aware of how hot she was becoming, the panic seeping into her bones at the thought of being a mother, she could see it in his eyes, feel it against her thigh as he looked at her like prey.
"That's okay my precious dove, i don't expect my beautiful wife to have to think about things. Why don't i just take what i deserve and you look pretty whilst i do?" Coriolanus pressed his face into her neck, pressing her against the wall with his body so his hands could push her dress up and around her waist.
"You make those pretty noises for me and take me just as you normally do. But this time i'm going to fuck a baby into you just as i have wanted to do since i met you." Y/n let out a small yelp as she felt his fingers reach into her underwear, her mind dissociating as he whispered words she couldn't hear into her ear.
"No! You don't get to do that!" Coriolanus shouted all of a sudden, pulling Y/n back to where she now laid against the bed, her dress gone and her husband angrily stood between her legs, hands gripping the bed til his fingers were white as he seethed.
"I'm sorry." Y/n forced out, it wasn't often he noticed her mind was elsewhere, too consumed by his pleasure and how her body responded. She allowed her body to relax, whilst her mind ran through fields, dove into lakes and occasionally put her back into the game except now she was fighting against Coriolanus. Raising a hand she lightly touched his face, guiding him down until she could kiss him, soothing his anger as she wrapped her legs around him. Guiding him to where he wanted to be, allowing him to enter her as he sighed at the loving embrace, pulling back to push his head into her beck. Placing small kissing against her hot skin, hands roaming along her as he moved against her. Y/n was given reprieve as she closed her eyes, imagining she was swimming in the lake with Coriolanus, a memory she fondly looked back on. Two friends swimming together, and in her memory she could remove the look in his eyes, the way his hands touched her and instead it was a beautiful memory of a time when she felt safe.
"You are so beautiful, i knew i had to have you. Since the minute you were picked you were mine, you were my tribute, to save and nurture. To protect. And now you are going to repay me, with a beautiful child for us to love. Although i do fear i will never love our child as much as i love you. But everyone will know you are forever mine, no one will ever hurt you." Y/n placed a hand on his hair, running it through his curls as she let out a sigh, spurring her husband on as he raised his head.
"I cannot wait to see you round with my child." Y/n nodded, pulling him down to her lips as she raised her hips to meet his thrusts, knowing his own words were spurring him more than any action she could do. He was in control.
Y/n sat next to Snow, their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren all stood behind them as he unveiled the 75th hunger games, the 3rd Quarter Quells. And his last hope of ending the rebellion. But all Y/n hoped for, was that the Mockingjay would sing and she could be free at last.
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#hunger games fanfiction#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader smut#dark!coriolanus snow
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The Newlywed Game
Summary: You’re forced to play The Newlywed Game with your ex situationship.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F. Reader
Warnings: Angst. Smuttish, but not my usual descriptive smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.
See my Masterlist here
“I can’t.” That’s all the explanation you got when Bucky ended your situationship. You were friends with benefits for almost a year. The only rule he had was don’t fall in love. He had too much baggage and he never wanted a family. He didn’t want anyone to depend on him.
You couldn’t blame him, he was traumatized by Hydra. Trapped inside his own body for decades, he was afraid it could happen again. You jumped in head first with him anyways. You were in his bed after every mission, every meeting, every day. You basically lived in his room, not that he would ever admit that. Then one rainy afternoon, you knocked on his door like always. Except this time, he didn’t pull you into his warm embrace.
He moved out of the way so you could come in, and immediately you knew something was wrong. You reached for him, ready to console him, desperate for his touch. He had just finished a mission with Sam and he’d been gone for two weeks. You missed him, and he was usually so excited to see you.
When you placed your hand on his cheek, rubbing the scruff that had grown while he was gone, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist removing it. “I can’t do this anymore.” His voice was so low you could barely understand. Your eyes narrowed at his words. “Have I done something wrong?”
“This has gone on for longer than it should have. I can’t let it anymore.” Your throat tightens, but you refuse to cry in front of him. You walked out and your relationship with him was never the same. You didn’t hang out anymore.
When you were alone, he would leave. He didn’t sit beside you during the Friday night movie. He didn’t choose you for his partner on game night. The other Avengers didn’t know for sure that you were hooking up. You hid it pretty well. They had their suspicions, but neither of you ever confirmed it.
Tony called everyone to the back yard. “What’s all this?” Steve asks, pointing to the stage he had set up. “It’s my anniversary tomorrow and Pepper said she always wanted to play the Newlywed Game. So I had this built so we could play.”
“That’s great, Tony. But who are you all going to play with? There’s four set up’s and only two couples.” Steve gestures to Wanda and Vision. “Thought about that and Cap, you and Natasha are going to play and….” He looks at the whole team, everyone looking in different directions trying not to make eye contact. Except for Sharon, who hung around a lot lately. She was getting closer to Bucky, obviously wanting Tony to choose them. You roll your eyes. “Barnes and Y/N. There now we have all our couples. I’m going to go get Pep, you guys take your spots.”
You look at Bucky,but he’s busy talking to Steve about how ridiculous it is. You hear Sharon agree that he should have chosen someone else. When Pepper comes in, she excitedly claps her hands together. She points to the other teams, “You’re going down!” She laughs, but you can’t help but protest, “This is rigged! You guys and Wanda and Vision are the only real couples!! How is anyone else supposed to win?”
Tony shoots you a death glare but answers, “Cap and Natasha have definitely bumped uglies before. And you and Barnes are close friends. I thought that would make it more fair. But, I do expect to win.” You cross your arms, but accept his answer. Bucky finally looks at you, but it’s not friendly.
Sam comes out, wearing a suit Tony made him wear to host. “I’ll explain the rules. You all have a whiteboard, marker, and eraser. I will ask a question and you will write your answer on your boards. If your answer matches your partner’s you get a point. I’ll eliminate one couple each round until the final tie breaker.”
You take a deep breath. This is hell. But, you do know Bucky better than anyone, so as long as he didn’t ask any crazy questions, you would be fine. “First question. Where is the craziest place you and your partner have had sex?” You freeze. Of course Stark had these wild questions. If you both answered the same, everyone would know that you had hooked up.
You think about lying, but decide the ball should be in Bucky’s court. You’ll answer correctly, and if he doesn’t you’ll know he doesn’t want anyone to know. You quickly scribble your answer, waiting on Sam to call on you. Tony’s answer is Steve’s room and Pepper’s matched. Everyone laughed while Steve said Tony has to pay for his room to be deep cleaned.
Wanda and Vision both answer “in the air.” Natasha and Steve said a table in the meeting room. You turn your board to reveal your answer and Bucky shows his. You look and see that he has answered correctly. “The quinjet?! Damn y’all are nasty!” Sam laughs.
You’re taken back to that moment. You, Bucky, and Bruce were on your way back from a mission. Bruce was driving the quinjet, but activated the mode Tony installed for breaks. As soon as he started snoring, Bucky led you to the bathroom. He took you against the wall, metal hand across your mouth to stifle your moans. It was one of the hottest things you’d ever done. Your suit clung to you in the worst ways after that. His cum dripping down your legs, it was nearly impossible to take off.
The others look at each other in surprise. Scott yells “I told you they were hooking up. No one believed me!” Sharon looks at Bucky so harshly that if looks could kill, he’d be dead. He just shrugs his shoulders. Of course, he would be hooking up with her. Why wouldn’t he? She was pretty and it had been three months since he ended things with you.
The next question was “Who hogs the covers more?” Everyone got it right except for Steve and Natasha. She said that wasn’t a fair question because they never actually slept when they were together. The round continued with four more questions. At the end, Steve and Natasha were eliminated because they had the least amount of points. The rest of you were tied.
“What is your partner’s pet name for you?” Sam asks. That’s easy, “doll”, you write. When you reveal your answers, Sharon looks furious. That must be what he calls her too. It stings, thinking of them together. You don’t have time to dwell on it before Sam asks the next question. “What is the highest number of orgasms your partner has given you in one night?” Your eyes widen, you know the answer, but you don’t know if he will remember.
Tony and Pepper answer three, Tony grins like the cocky asshole he is. Vision and Wanda answer two. Bucky raises his board, “Six?!” Sam shouts, “How were you guys fucking this much and nobody knew?” He laughs. The round surprisingly ends with Wanda and Vision getting eliminated.
But you’re busy thinking about that night. Bucky’s head between your thighs for hours. He barely came up for breath. You were sure he would smother, but he insisted. He didn’t stop until the sheets were soaked, your legs were shaking so hard, you’d immediately fall if you tried to stand up.
He had you screaming his name all night. When he finally started fucking you, he took his time, pulling another orgasm out of you before going back down for another taste. He finally came with you on top. He had to lift your limp body on him, using you like a sex doll. You couldn’t move if you needed too. It was the best sex you’d ever had.
“It’s time for the tie breaker question. Answers don’t have to match, the crowd will vote on the most romantic answers.” Sam states. “When did you know you were in love?” Tony and Pepper immediately begin writing. You’re certain you’re going to lose this one. Bucky was never in love with you. You write your answer, deciding to answer truthfully.
Tony and Pepper’s answers make you tear up, they are so in love. You can only hope you’ll find that one day. You and Bucky reveal your boards at the same time. You glance at his, his answer knocks the breath out of your lungs because it matches yours. The Avenger’s Barbecue. You lock eyes, his gaze softens as he reads your answer.
You’ll never forget such a pivotal moment in your life. All of the Avengers and Shield agents’ friends and family were invited to play games, eat, and have a good time. Emily, who helped coordinate your missions brought her husband and three young children. A baby girl, a two year old boy, and a five year old girl. The children were drawn to Bucky. The two older children swung from his metal arm while he held the baby with his other one.
The image made your ovaries explode. You couldn’t help imagining how he would be if you had kids. He laughed as they asked him a thousand questions, playing on him like a jungle gym. You knew without a doubt, you were in love.
Bucky took a deep breath when he read your answer. Why was it the same as his? Did you know? Was it a prank you were playing on him? Emily’s children were entranced with you from the moment they met you. He couldn’t blame them, he felt the same. They had played with him for an hour before the food was ready. When Tony told everyone to make a plate, you offered to watch the kids while she and her husband got their food.
Bucky watched as you comforted the crying infant. The two older children sat beside you while you read from a book the girl got from their bag. Bucky knew he was screwed. He could see a life like this so clearly. Your belly round with his baby, while you tended to your other children. He didn’t want to admit how badly he wanted that. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He was in love with you.
That night he made love to you, it was softer, slower than the other times he touched you. He knew you could tell the difference too. He placed one last kiss to your lips, willing himself to let you go. The next morning, he left for his two week mission with Sam. He convinced himself that it was for the best if he ended things. He didn’t want to hurt you. You might be okay with it now, but years later you would regret it.
You’d realize having the Winter Soldier for a husband wasn’t worth everything you would have to go through. Then Sharon started flirting with him after Steve rejected her. He hadn’t so much as hugged her, but she acted like she was entitled to him.
Everyone voted for Tony and Pepper to win. They were the real couple and it was their anniversary tomorrow. Tony was going to treat everyone to dinner for being such good sports. You got out of there as soon as it was over. You needed a nap before going to dinner. It was all too much for you. How the hell did you and Bucky make it so far in the game? Why did he have the same answer for the last question? You convince yourself that he knew how you felt.
That night changed everything. The sex was different. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear he was making love to you. He had to be messing with your head. Somehow you manage to fall asleep even with your thoughts racing.
You wake up two hours later, just enough time to get ready for dinner. You put on the little black dress Bucky loved. If he wants to play games, bring it on. You apply your perfume when a light knock sounds on your door. You would recognize the knock anywhere. “Come in” you call. Bucky walks in, his tight black t-shirt hugging him in the best ways.
“Hey doll, we need to talk.” You put your earrings in, anger surging through you. “Talk about what? How you were trying to humiliate me up there? How you’re banging Sharon now? There’s nothing to talk about. You should just go.”
“Humiliate you? What about me? How did you know the answer to the last question?” He demands, charging toward you. “I answered it truthfully, James. How did you know my answer?” You ask, hands on your hips. “I answered honestly too.” He confesses, his blue eyes sweeping over the swell of your breasts.
“Stop lying! I don’t see what the point is. We have been over for three months. Why are you doing this?” He shakes his head, “I was telling the truth. I realized I was in love with you when all those kids were sitting in your lap. I could see our life together. And I wanted it, the kids, the white picket fence, the big house, you.”
“Bucky, I wanted all that with you too. Seeing you playing with those kids made me realize it too.” You sigh, feeling relieved to finally get it off your chest. His lips crash into yours, hands moving at lightning speed to remove all of your clothing. You’re under him in seconds, panting against his lips as he rubs himself against you.
Bucky moans as he sinks into you. He’s always known deep down you were made for him, now he has no choice but to accept it. “I’m so in love with you.” He tells you between thrusts. You claw at his back, his confession almost sends you over the edge. “I am so in love with you, Buck.” You kiss him gently. “Say it again.” He smiles, as you get lost in each other.
Tags
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#bucky barnes smut#bucky imagine#bucky fic#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky#bucky fanfic#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes and reader#bucky and reader#bucky angst#bucky au#bucky fanfiction#bucky mcu#bucky marvel#bucky oneshot#bucky smut#bucky x yn smut#bucky x yn#bucky x reader smut#bucky x female yn#the newlywed game
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The Signal
Made this using images from Pinterest ^
Word Count: 6.1k
Pairing: Bucky x f!reader
Summary: You and Bucky get separated from the team after an unfortunate mishap, of which Bucky blames you. Except you’re not at fault! You thought… you aren’t too sure anymore.
A/N: Thank you all so much for all of the positivity on my first fic, I am actually BLOWN AWAY. You are all so kind!! I actually started writing this all the way back in February of 2022, but seeing the response gave me the motivation to finally finish it.
Warnings: Nothing absolutely horrible, just a bit of angst and fluff(?), plus a little gaslighting and violence.
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
“Everything is going to be okay. We’re fine. Everything is fine. Everything–” She repeated the mantra over and over again, not quite believing it.
“Will you shut up?” Bucky growled.
Only an hour prior had both of them been sneaking through a dense forest and scoping out a running ex-HYDRA base deep in the frozen woods. Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Sam, and Y/N were used to missions like this, except this one required a higher level of subtlety and a successful sneak attack was critical. Their intel informed them that the base was rigged to blow if any unrecognized technology was detected, including any disturbances in the radio waves. Because of this, they all turned off their communications signals once they approached the range of the base. At least, they were supposed to.
“I’m just trying to keep myself from freaking out.” She grumbled, slightly trailing behind Bucky as they crunched through the brittle layer of snow.
“Why? You should be freaking out. You should very much be freaking out right now. Considering we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no connection to anyone who can help, and I’m stuck with you.” He recognized he was being cruel, but he didn’t have the strength to stop.
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“The sooner you stop lying to yourself, the better.” Bucky responded without even looking over his shoulder. He hadn’t looked at her for the majority of their trek to the nearest safe house since they got separated from the rest of the group by the explosion.
“This is not my damn fault! I turned off my signal, just like Steve told us to.” She struggled to keep up with him, but she wouldn’t tell him that. She couldn’t show him any weakness–he’d just use it against her.
“Except you didn’t!”
“How are you so sure it was me? There were five of us!” She awkwardly jogged to get a bit ahead of him, and turned around to face him as she walked backward. “What makes you think it wasn’t you?”
“Please, like I would ever be so careless.” His gaze remained on the terrain ahead, and it looked like the trees of the woods were starting to thin out, signaling an exit soon.
“And I would?”
“Yes! Yes, you would. I knew from the start it was a bad idea to take you along. You can’t even follow simple instructions like turning off a signal.” He managed to pass her again, leaving her to struggle to stay next to him. He saw out of the corner of his eye her pointing a finger at him.
“I’m trying really hard not to take your attitude personally. You’ve been acting like a dick for the past week, but I’m sick of it.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Sweetheart?” He finally glanced at her.
“Yes.”
“Why? Is it reserved for Steve?” Bucky’s eyes quickly returned to the path in front of him.
“What are you on about?” Genuine confusion laced her voice, but her question went unanswered as they reached a block in their path.
“Y’know your genius safe house plan?” Bucky gestured to the map balled up in her hand, the thing they had been using to guide them to safety. “Well, looks like we’re here.”
“This can’t be right,” she shook her head, quickly unfolding the map, “maybe we got turned around.”
“Just look up.”
She followed Bucky’s gaze to the sky, at which she finally realized the ridiculousness of their situation. They were stranded at the bottom of a steep cliff, which looked to stand nearly a hundred feet in the sky.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Because who the fuck puts a safe house on top of a cliff? “There’s got to be an elevator or something, there’s no way we’re expected to climb this.”
They both scanned the base of the cliff, looking for any indication of a secret passage to the top. She ran her hand along the jagged rock and ice, and bit her bottom lip as she concentrated on the wall, eventually spotting a thick rope among a couple vines.
“Shit.”
Her voice gained Bucky’s attention, and he looked over to see her holding not one, but two ropes, each attached to a relatively large weaved basket. It wasn’t quite big enough for the two of them, but one person could definitely fit.
“After you,” he mocked, gesturing to the basket that was meant to work as a (sketchy as hell) pulley system.
Instead of answering, she merely pointed to the inside of the damp basket. Bucky peered his head over to see the bottom had completely fallen apart, leaving a gaping hole where a person would supposedly stand.
“Looks like we’re climbing.” Bucky sighed.
“I can’t–”
“Afraid of heights?” He snapped.
“No, but–”
“Good. Then there shouldn’t be a problem.”
He grabbed a knife from his belt and efficiently cut both sides of the rope from the basket. She watched, dumbfounded, as he took one rope and tied it around his waist. Then, he gave the rope a hard tug, and satisfied by the lack of give, turned to his belt and grabbed three more knives. He grabbed duct tape out of his tac pants, and expertly taped one knife to the bottom of each shoe. Finally, he tossed her the duct tape, knowing she already had her own knives. She watched both impressed and annoyed as he firmly stuck his feet as best he could into the ice and rock of the cliff, and used the other knives in his hands as leverage.
He made it about ten feet up before glancing back down to see she hadn’t moved.
“Are you coming or what?” The impatience of his voice stung almost as much as the cold did her nose.
She looked at him, then the rope, and then the knives attached to her legs, before making a move. Unlike Bucky, her combat boots came equipped with hidden spikes that could be used for climbing (although she had never used them for such activity, and normally used them as a treat when fighting, basking in the pride of catching her enemies off guard with a swift kick and metal spike to the face, groin, etc). She adjusted the spikes to be poking out of the toe of her boots, and tried not to think as she grabbed the second rope and knotted it around her waist.
Ignoring her left hand, she grabbed only one knife opposed to Bucky’s two, and stabbed it into the ice. She cautiously looked down at her feet as she began her climb, and looked back up at her hand as she found purchase a foot above her head. Already exhausted from the fighting and explosion earlier, she winced at the tension in her right arm as she pulled herself up.
At the slow pace she was going, Bucky was already 15 feet in the air by the time she was 3 feet off the ground.
Bucky looked down to see her far behind, and raised an eyebrow when he saw her climbing with only one hand.
“You’re supposed to use both hands, you know?” He mocked.
She rolled her eyes, but said nothing, as she let her left hand join her right hand on the handle of the knife protruding from the rock. Bucky noticed her silent grimace as she successfully pulled herself up to the next level. He continued to watch as she stiffly removed her right foot from the wall and placed it above her left foot, before once again grabbing the single knife with both her hands and pulling for a second before letting out an agonizing cry.
Out of curiosity more than frustration, he called down.
“What’s going on down there?”
She briefly looked up at him before looking back at the ground, “I can’t climb.”
“Missed the training day on it?”
His sarcasm went unappreciated as she growled.
“My wrist is broken, asshole.”
Her wrist is broken, and she’s climbing? What is she thinking?
“And you’re still trying to climb? You should’ve told me.”
“I fucking tried telling you! But everytime I try to say something, you interrupt me! Constantly! Besides, what’s the point in telling you if you’re just going to brush it off?”
Bucky swiftly removed the knives in his hands from the cliff, and held onto his rope, before half-hopping and half-climbing down the wall to the ground.
“Bucky, just go,” she sighed, “I’ll figure something else out. I’m not going to be a burden on you.”
She said it in part because, yes, she didn’t want to burden him, but also because she didn’t want to hear his whiny complaints.
He ignored her protests and gently reached for her left hand, inspecting the incredibly swollen wrist. He winced at her soft whimper. He let go and simply looked at her.
“Hop down.”
She didn’t like that he was ordering her around, but his voice was void of any emotion, and out of curiosity and self preservation skills, she obeyed.
“C’mon.” Bucky turned around so his back faced her.
After a couple moments of silence, he looked over his shoulder to see her face twisted in confusion.
“C’mon now, just get on.” He repeated, squatting down a bit more. “You’re going to have to hold on tight.”
Ignoring the absurdity of the situation, she did her best to climb onto his back, at which point he gently grabbed her non-injured arm and wrapped it around his neck to encourage her to not be afraid to cling to him.
After what likely was about twenty minutes of climbing in utter silence, minus the whipping of the cool wind, Bucky made the mistake of looking down. The good news was that they were almost at the top–probably about a quarter of the climb left. The bad news was that meant that they had already climbed about 75 feet, and despite Bucky’s fearless persona, he was not fearless.
“Fuck.” He whispered.
“What’s wrong?” She rested her chin on his right shoulder.
“Nothing… I just didn’t realize how high up we were.” He grimaced the moment he said it. He’d shown weakness. He’d given her ammo. “Gonna make fun of me now?” He started to shake just a little, and prayed that she would assume it was because of the cold and not his anxiety…even though it had been cold for the entirety of the climb.
“No.” She stated.
His head started to spin from the memories. He tried to push through it, but all he could think about was the first time he was this high up. It was as cold as this too. He felt as his left arm subconsciously twitched.
The first time I was this high up, I still had two human arms.
A sweet voice interrupted his thoughts.
“I think I can see the compound from here.”
It was a stupid joke, but he couldn’t help but laugh a little.
“You know, I’m pretty scared of the ocean.” She continued.
He didn’t respond, unsure of where she was going with this. He continued to pull themselves up.
“Just deep water in general scares me. My brother always made fun of me for it.”
Don’t look down, Bucky. Don’t look–
“One time when I was like–fifteen? I think? My family took a trip to this really big lake. We got on one of those pontoon boats and went out into the water.”
He was glad that she was so close to him, otherwise the whipping of the wind would’ve been too loud to hear her calming voice.
“My brother thought he was really funny, and told me to look over the edge of the boat while we were still in motion.”
He tried to grunt to indicate he was listening, but no noise came out.
“He pushed me right as my dad started speeding up. I fell in, and freaked out. Especially as I watched the boat leave me behind.”
He continued to listen to her and focused on her voice, and the vibrations. Her tone was casual, but he couldn’t help but sense she was telling him a secret.
“Luckily, my mom saw what happened, and got my dad to turn around.” She chuckled. “He claimed he was trying to help me get over my fear. But I got my revenge later that day, so it was fine.”
“What’d you do?” Bucky finally spoke up.
“Well, he’s afraid of peanut butter.” She tried to shrug, despite having one arm around his neck and the other hanging limply.
“Do you mean allergic?”
“No, I mean afraid. The stuff freaks him out. He won’t go near it. He’s weird like that.” She sighed in remembrance, and continued.
“So once we got back to the house I grabbed some peanut butter, and slathered it into his hair when he wasn’t looking.”
Bucky looked up again and was surprised to see how close they were to the top. When did that happen?
“He screamed so loud–it was hilarious.” She smiled. “He ran to take a shower, flailing around and being dramatic. ‘Mom! She put peanut butter in my hair! My hair! Mommy, get it out!’”
Worried that Bucky was judging her, she quickly added,
“He was seventeen at the time, by the way.”
Still no answer.
“I don’t think he’s forgiven me yet.” She whispered more to herself than Bucky, but he still nodded as he grabbed at the top of the cliff.
“We’re here.” Bucky didn’t mean for his voice to come across gruff, but the cold wasn’t helping his throat.
“Thank you for carrying me.” She smiled once she had both feet on the ground. It didn’t reach her eyes, but he could still tell she meant it.
Slightly embarrassed, Bucky attempted to grumble out a ‘Thank you for distracting me,’ but he wasn’t sure she heard it.
Come on, you can do better than that Barnes. Just apologize to her, he thought.
“Listen, I know I’ve been acting like a–”
Bucky’s words were cut off by a mysterious and sudden mangled…shriek?
“Oh my God, Bucky.” She patted his arm to get him to turn around.
He obliged, and his eyes became saucers when he saw what had made the noise.
At the top of the cliff was a partially snowy but also grassy plateau, inhabited by a herd of roaming goats. So, so many goats.
“Look at all the goats!” She gasped.
Right as she had said it, one goat had snuck up to them and started biting at Bucky’s prosthetic.
“Get off,” he quelled his shock and grumbled as he shook the animal off of his hand.
“Aw, it likes you.” She giggled, falling to her knees to pet the goat—more like ‘goats’, plural, because the animals seemed to multiply, and fast.
“Let’s get inside. We need to fix that wrist.”
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
Beside the disturbingly large population of goats, and the absurd location of the safe house, the house itself was fine. Well, it was shaped more like a barn, but it was decorated like a house. After coaxing Y/N away from the “adorable” (her words, not Bucky’s) goats, and inside, Bucky led Y/N to the forest green rug where he had started a fire in the fireplace.
When he finished briefly looking around, Bucky grabbed some ice that had frozen outside the barn and wrapped it in a cloth from the kitchen. With her permission, Bucky carefully placed the ice pack where he saw the most bruising around her wrist.
“So,” Bucky had settled himself across from her, so they could face each other as they talked. He couldn’t help the pang of sadness he felt as she stood up and backed away to sit on the couch.
She wouldn’t move away if I were Steve, he thought, staring into the fire. They’d probably cuddle up together like they do on the couch during movie nights at the tower.
Y/N didn’t want to move away from Bucky, especially now that he was being amicable again. But the heat from the flames was melting the ice that cradled her wrist, and she didn’t want to add ‘soggy’ to her list of problems.
“So?” She asked, noticing Bucky never finished his thought.
“I’m just thinking about the logistics of this. There’s a high possibility we could be stuck here anywhere from a week to a month. Your signal was fried in the blast too, right?”
She nodded, and released her right hand from holding the ice, letting it balance on her wrist, as she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her signal. Definitely fried.
He pulled out his own signal from where he had kept it in his pants pocket, and showed her how it was crushed. “Well, without our signals, our team can’t track us. We just have to hope that they’ll figure out that we made it to a safe house, and that they don’t check this one last. Because I’m pretty sure there are at least two more safehouses dedicated to the vicinity of the Hydra base, right?”
She nodded. “We got unlucky with this one.”
“First thing we need to worry about,” he raised his eyebrows, trying to gain her attention, “is food. I looked at the kitchen pretty quickly and there’s not that much stuff stocked. A couple cans of beans, and such. Not nearly enough for how long we’re going to be here though. So unless we want to climb back down again, and see if we can find any food anywhere…”
She squinted and tilted her head as if she was a confused puppy.
“We’re going to have to kill a goat.” He finished.
Her eyes went comically wide. “I am not letting you kill Cheetoh!”
Bucky shook his head, exasperated, “You’ve already named them?”
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
The longer they were there, the worse the winds got. But that didn’t stop Bucky from hearing the strange overlap of whipping winds, leading him to lean into the noise from his spot on the couch.
“Do you hear that?” Bucky nudged her.
“It sounds like the wind got a lot worse,” She nodded.
“No, something’s off.”
At Bucky’s concern, Y/N got up off the couch and beat him to the doors. She looked at Bucky, who stood directly behind her, before pushing hard to get the sliding door to budge. Instantly the biting cold attacked them again, and she had to place her right arm over her forehead to keep her hair from whipping into her eyes. Everything outside seemed to be an array of grays, until she was able to spot a shadowy figure emerge from the settling fog. A person appeared, as well as a helicopter.
“Sam?” She called, hoping her voice carried far enough to be heard above the wind.
“Y/N! Bucky! Thank god you guys are okay,” Sam called back, and was quickly met by Y/N who had run the rest of the distance to meet him. Bucky was shortly behind.
“I’ve never been so happy to see your face, Sam.” She giggled, setting her right hand appreciatively on his shoulder.
Quickly spotting Steve exiting the chopper, Bucky hid a scowl as he watched Y/N light up and bound over to the bundled up blond, while calling, “Steve!” He wished he had looked away before seeing her pull him in for a hug.
Wanting to distance himself from the interaction, Bucky stood by Sam.
“How did you find us so fast?” Bucky shook his head, and raised his voice, as the wind started to pick up again.
“My signal, man.” Sam yelled back, despite being three feet apart.
“What?” Bucky wondered if he heard him right.
Sam reached into the left pocket of Bucky’s under jacket, and pulled out a small familiar looking device.
Bucky felt a punch to the gut as he suddenly remembered.
The group had just landed the quinjet deep into the forest. They couldn’t land too close to the base and risk setting off alarms, so they settled for a three mile hike away. Bucky and Sam were meant to approach from the north side, while Steve, Natasha, and Y/N planned to approach from the south side, so the group split off after the jet to take opposite round-a-bout paths. It was about two miles left to go when Sam started complaining.
“Dude, does this thing actually fit in your ear?” Sam gestured to the communications device in his hand. “Because it keeps falling out. It’s getting on my nerves.”
Bucky gave a short grunt, which Sam translated to a ‘yes, it does fit in my ear.’
“I can’t,” Sam finally huffed, “I give up. I don’t have any pockets, can you hold this so I don’t lose it?”
Simply wishing for Sam to shut up, he obliged, and shoved the tiny device into his pocket for safe keeping. Neither of them thought to turn it off first, because in their minds, and past experiences, it always stays turned on in the field. Excluding the moments when people turn them off in acts of defiance.
About a mile later, both men heard a small rustling to their right. In hindsight, it was probably just a rabbit, but Sam suggested he go check it out, just in case. That’s what led to the two splitting up, but Bucky wasn’t worried. He knew that if there was a problem, Sam would’ve made it clear immediately. He also knew that Sam knew his way to the base all on his own.
Bucky arrived at his location at the same time that Steve’s voice buzzed in his ear. At this point, the extra signal was long forgotten.
“We’re in position.” Steve’s voice rattled.
“10-4.” Bucky responded.
“Alright, going dark now. Turn off your comms, let’s go.”
Steve’s voice was followed by the soft beep of Bucky’s signal as he turned it off.
He didn’t realize Sam’s signal was still active in his pocket.
“It was just bad luck dude, don’t feel too bad. I should’ve turned it off before I gave it to you, and I shouldn’t have assumed you’d turn it off yourself.” Sam tried to hide his pity with a half-smile.
“I–I was the leak?” Bucky whispered right as the wind started to calm again. He stared at the small device as Sam hid it in the pocket of his own coat. If only Sam had worn that on the way to the base.
“Yeah,” Sam said at a normal level now that the noise had nearly ceased, “but everyone’s safe now, that’s all that matters.” Sam reassuringly pat Bucky’s shoulder twice before looking back at Steve helping Y/N into the chopper.
Bucky let out a short hum, and focused on the ground. He wanted to crush that stupid little signal. He hated the way it made his chest feel tight, and his heart heavy with guilt.
Sam’s voice interrupted Bucky’s thoughts.
“Those are a lot of goats, man.”
Before Bucky could respond, Steve appeared in front of them.
“Hey Buck,” Steve smiled, pulling him in for a quick hug, “I’m glad we found you so fast. Are you injured at all?” Steve pulled back to examine Bucky’s form.
“No, I’m fine,” Bucky swiftly assured, before feeling the throbbing of guilt consume him again, “but Y/N’s wrist is broken.”
“Don’t worry, I know. I already told her I’d take her straight to medical once we get back. Speaking of, we should get going.”
“Right.”
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
Three hours later, the group made it back to New York. As the ramp lowered, Bucky quietly pulled Steve aside.
“I can walk Y/N to med.” He nodded to where she was sitting, staring off into space.
“You sure?” Steve struggled to hide the surprise in his voice.
“Yeah.” Bucky nodded.
“Okay.”
Bucky gave his friend a firm pat on the shoulder before sauntering toward Y/N, who remained in her seat.
“Come on, Y/N.” He held out his right hand, offering her to take it.
“Huh?” She blinked twice, and stared up at him, eyebrows scrunched.
“I’m walking you to med.”
“Oh. Okay.” She paused for a moment before standing up. “So much for being stuck for months.”
“Yeah, I guess that calculation was a bit off.”
“I’m just glad we’re back home. And that you didn’t need to kill any goats.”
“I was going to leave Cheetoh alone.”
“I don’t know if I believe you.”
The rest of their walk was relatively short, but silent, until they reached the doors of Dr. Cho. Bucky didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, as Dr. Cho was given a heads up to Y/N’s injury, and already whisked her away.
Bucky rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet for a minute, until he decided it would be uncomfortable for all parties involved if he stayed. He knew she’d be alright, he convinced himself, so there was no need to be in the way.
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
A couple of the Avengers found themselves mentally recovering in the lounge, waiting for Y/N to get out of her evaluation.
“She’ll probably be out for two months. Broken wrist and all that.” Steve relayed, taking a seat on the couch.
“Two months?” Sam repeated, looking up from his bag of chips.
“I think she’s pretty bummed, so try not to mention it.”
As if on cue, Y/N entered the room.
“Hey guys,” she smiled, waving with the arm that wasn’t in a cast.
“Hey Hon. How’s the wrist?”
“Really, Tony?” Natasha glared at him.
“What?” He feigned innocence, throwing his hands in the air.
“It’s fine guys. It doesn’t hurt that bad, I’m more embarrassed than anything.”
“Embarrassed by what? I think that cast makes you look tough.” Sam added, doing his best to cheer others up as always. “And hey, you and Bucky can be twins now.”
“Yeah, kinda. Look at that Buck!” She lifted her left arm in the direction of Bucky, who had been silently brooding in the corner. The bulk could be seen under the fabric of her hoodie, but she felt the need to emphasize the point by taking the pullover off.
She first tried tugging the sleeve off her cast, but it was a bit too snug. After a couple more moments of failing, she switched tactics to just pulling off the hoodie from over her head, but that got her stuck in an awkward position too.
After a second too long of borderline uncomfortable silence and shuffling, Steve spoke up.
“Do you want help with that?”
“Nope, I got it. Just gimme- a second…”
Somehow she had gotten the garment twisted around her right arm and upper body.
“Hon, just let us-” Tony started, but was quickly cut off.
“You know what? It’s suddenly cold again. There’s a weird draft over here.” Y/N quickly tugged the hoodie back down and gave a weary smile. “I’m going to go to my room.”
She ran off before anyone could offer an opinion. Unsurprisingly, Steve was the first to speak.
“I’m going to go check on her.”
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
A soft knock came to her door.
“Come in.”
“Hey, Y/N.” Steve gave a sympathetic smile as he gently closed the door behind him.
“Hi Steve, what’s up?” She looked fine, but he could hear the strain in her voice.
“Nothing, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He stood in front of where she sat at the edge of the bed.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got a little frustrated, it’s no big deal.” She shrugged it off, avoiding his eye line.
“It’s okay to feel frustrated.”
“I know. I shouldn’t though. It’s my fault, anyways.”
“How so?”
She cast her gaze to the floor and swept a hand through her hair.
“Well, I think the whole reason we were ambushed was because of me.”
“What? Why would you say that?”
She took a deep breath.
“After Bucky and I got stranded after the attack, I was sure it wasn’t my fault. But then he started saying things, and they were mean… but he was also right. I started second guessing myself, and I thought about it. I mean, out of all of us, I’m the newest. And I was so sure that I turned my signal off…but now I don’t know. I can’t remember. And if it really is my fault they found us, then it’s my fault that fight happened, and it’s my own doing that this—” she pointed to her cast, “happened. I just feel stupid.”
“You weren’t the leak, Y/N.”
“What?”
“It was an accident. Bucky was carrying an extra signal, and no one thought to turn it off.”
“Bucky?” She looked bewildered, shaking her head at this fact.
“Yes.”
“Does he know?”
“Um…I’m not sure. I didn’t tell him. We never had a proper briefing after the chaos derailed our schedule when we got back.”
“I have to go find him.” Her shock turned to a quiet determination of which Steve decided not to push her on.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you still want your hoodie off?”
“Yes please.”
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
“Buck, wait up!”
Bucky slowed his jog around the track to a stop when he heard her voice.
“Y/N?”
“Hey.” She gave him a sweet smile once she caught up, one he felt undeserving of.
“Is there something you need?”
“No. I just had to tell you something.”
“I’m listening.” He nodded, crossing his arms. He didn’t mean it in a defensive way, it just happened.
“First of all, you should know it’s not your fault.”
“What?”
“I just found out how we got ambushed, and I figured I should tell you.”
“Oh.” He fought the urge to look away.
“Sam gave you his signal, right? But it was never turned off. It was just an accident. But I needed to tell you, because I know you’re going to blame yourself when they tell everyone at the briefing.” Her concerned tone and eyes met him for the briefest second before he wiped his hands down his face.
“I feel like an asshole.”
“No, please don’t.” She softly touched his elbow.
“I’m going to be honest Y/N, I thought you were going to take it a lot worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you found out that it was me. I was worried you were going to get really mad.”
“Wait, you already knew?”
“Yeah? Sam told me right when he found us…I thought you knew I knew, isn’t that why you just told me all that?”
“I thought you didn’t know. I wanted to be the one to tell you before the briefing, to tell you not to worry about it, because I knew you’d take it hard. But–but you already knew?”
Bucky just stared, jaw dropped at a loss for words.
“And–” She scoffed, “—and you didn’t tell me?!”
“Y/N, I-”
“Don’t ‘Y/N’, me! You—you, jerk! I can’t believe you knew all this time that you were the leak, and after belittling me and convincing me it was my fault, you didn’t tell me the truth!” She laughed in disbelief. “You selfish, cold-hearted, dickhead!”
He wasn’t sure what to say, but it didn’t matter, because she kept going.
“I’m stuck off missions for the next two months with a broken wrist, and you let me think it was my own doing! You made me feel like an idiot!”
“I was going to tell you—”
“When? After I was already told at the meeting? I can’t believe you!” She turned around briefly as if she couldn’t even face him, but quickly turned back. “To think I felt bad for you when I found out it was you who got us ambushed!”
With each insult she managed to get a little closer to him. So close, in fact, that Bucky was struggling to even comprehend what she was saying anymore. All he could think of was how close he was to her, how his hands were just itching to grab her waist. His head was nearly empty when he finally did carefully grab her and pull her closer to him. She paused her rampage to look up into his adoring eyes at his sudden movement.
“Bucky?” She whispered, a swirl of confusion and intrigue.
He replied by placing his lips gently on hers, feeling the warmth of her touch. She reciprocated, kissing him back for a couple seconds before bringing her hands to his chest to furiously push him away, followed by a swift slap to the face.
“Jeez-” The sudden change from bliss to reality was shocking.
“I can’t believe you James!” She yelled, her flustered look from both the kiss and her rage. “I can’t believe you just kissed me! I have a right to be angry, fuck you for thinking you can shut me up by locking my lips!”
‘Shit, I messed up,” he starts to think, about to spew apologies, when he gets cut off by her grasping his hoodie in her hand and pulling him back in for another kiss. The moment his shock subsides and he sinks back into the waves of her kiss, he’s just as abruptly taken from it, head dizzy as she parts from him just to slap him across the cheek again.
“Ow! What was that for?” He brings his hand to the sting. He’s so dazed and confused, a hurricane of thoughts and emotions all fighting for his attention.
“You make me so mad! I’m fuming right now! You are so selfish—”
She cuts herself off, pulling him in for another kiss, one that he’s still not prepared for. His frustration rising at her antics, he brings both hands to either side of her face and holds her steadily against him, resulting in their first kiss that lasted longer than five seconds. When he finally feels her about to let go for breath, he lets his lips leave hers, and continues to cradle her head, their foreheads resting against each other as they both gasp for breath.
“You’re not going to slap me again, are you?” He carefully asks, looking into her eyes.
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
He laughs and slowly lets go of her.
“You okay?”
After a few seconds of silence, she responds with hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’ve already given you enough reason to hate me, I was sure that if you found out I was the leak, you’d finally hate me for good.”
“I don’t hate you Bucky. I always figured you kind of hated me. Lately you’ve been acting kind of like-”
“A dick, I know,” he nods. “And I’m sorry for that. Really, I am. It’s just-” Bucky’s voice seizes as she sees him look intensely at her mouth.
“It’s what?”
“Can I please kiss you again?”
She slowly nods, and allows Bucky to kiss her for the fourth time. It was fucking heaven to him. Regardless, he abruptly pulls back when a thought crosses his mind.
“Shit, what about Steve?”
“What about Steve?”
“Don’t you like each other?”
She couldn’t help but think his concern was cute, the way he acted like he was talking about middle school crushes.
“Bucky, no,” she laughs, “Steve and I have just always been really good friends. You know, when people are nice to each other, and they like to hang around each other?”
“I just always thought that-”
“Never. He’s my friend. And I can guarantee you he feels the same as me.”
She lets him process the information, watching him nod to himself as if taking it in.
“Oh.”
“Are you jealous?” She smirks, giving him a flirty shove.
His cheeks go pink as he starts to stutter.
“Jea- jealous? No, not jealous. Just-”
Was he jealous? Was it emasculating to admit it? It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care, he’s sick of lying.
“Okay, maybe I was a little bit jealous.” He mumbled, drawing his attention to a pebble on the ground that he was toeing. “So, you do like me, right?”
She lifts his chin upwards and gives him the softest, sweetest, slowest peck.
“Does that answer your question?” She flutters.
“I think so. But the slapping earlier was a bit confusing.” He teased.
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s alright, it was well deserved.”
“No, I still shouldn’t have hit you.” She said with certainty. “But I am still a little bit upset that you didn’t tell me.”
“Doll, I know I should’ve told you that you weren’t the leak. I wish–”
“No,” she shakes her head, “I’m upset you never told me how you felt about me. Instead you acted-”
“Like a dick, I know–”
“No, I was going to say like a child. But yeah, a dick, too.”
They just stood together for that moment, appreciating the start of something new. New, and beautiful, with a lot less animosity, and a lot more kisses.
A/N: If you’ve made it this far, thank you, thank you, thank you! I hope you liked it. If you feel like it, please lemme know your thoughts! I hope you have a peaceful day/night 💕
#bucky x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#Bucky fic#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky angst#bucky barnes fanfiction
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter nineteen | coriolanus snow
「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | implied murder, spit play (?¿), choking, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of Dr. Gaul, everyone is crazy here, implied stalking | lmk if I forgot anything
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 they talk <33
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 remember to give me your feedback, reblog and comment your thoughts and my leg has cramps help-
Beta read by the lovely 💘 @nowitsmissing 🫶🏾
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Coriolanus felt his air being taken away from him. He puts his hand around the wrist of yours but doesn't attempt to push you away. He knew he easily could, however, he rather liked being under you. He parts his lips to take in much-needed air. But you had other plans in your mind.
You grin, a bit feral, much like him, Coryo noticed. And you leaned in to spit in his open mouth. He groaned, his eyes closing, his hips bucking up to look for friction. He was slapped again for his actions.
“Stop that,” you said, breathless, your eyes wide with anger or lust, he couldn't be sure.
He lets out a chuckle. Fuck, he missed you.
His insane dove.
You choke him harder, making him gasp. He doesn't stop you. Coriolanus could see the bruises formed around your neck. Snow had no right to stop you. He lets you be.
“You and Sejanus had no right to blow me off like that. I disobeyed orders by contacting you and you never thought of sending one letter! ONE! And then you have the nerve to react like this around me.” You narrowed your eyes.
“Remember the girl you had kissed, Coryo?” You whispered, leaning in. His lips were an inch away from yours to meet. “Haven't seen her around now, have you?” You smirked and he knew. He knows the look in your eyes, it was the same he had when he first had blood on his hands.
“You're mine, you have seemed to forget that after a few measly months. You're pathetic, Coryo.”
You crossed a line saying that. Coriolanus tightens the grip he had on your hand and forces it away from his strength. You cry out from the pain. It was going to bruise, just like your neck. It didn't matter to him.
“I am pathetic,” he mused, “I sent letter after letter. I tried getting over you and I failed miserably.”
“Well, you shouldn't have!” You angrily spit out, “Nobody can ever compare to me.”
Coriolanus pushed you away from his lap. He ignored his cock, straining against his pants as he rolled his eyes. “You're too much.”
“I am perfect.”
“Then you should have tried harder to contact me! Do you know how it was? Not seeing you, not hearing your voice, unable to touch your skin! I have missed you. I was dying without you! And what were you doing? Playing science with crazy Gaul.”
“Gaul is the reason you're here and not dead! You messed with her games and I told you there would be consequences!”
“I had no choice,” he yelled out.
“Why not!?”
“Because I love you. I love you and you're mine. I had to win if I wanted a life with you. A proper life worthy of our standings. There was never a choice. Not when it comes to you.”
You let out a wounded noise. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist. You had him trapped. He liked the embrace. He hugs you back.
“You're everything,” he admits shamefully.
“You're not forgiven,” you sound like you're crying, he could feel his shirt getting wet. “She was punished for tasting your lips. You will be punished for allowing that.”
“I love you too, Coryo, but you need your lesson.”
Coriolanus nods. Even if he doesn't want to. He knew he didn't have a choice. He will take whatever you give him. Whether it be pain or love. “Okay, dove,” he whispered.
Then he remembered about the night of the gala. The anger you had shared with him, the truth you confined in. “Tell me what you meant by rigging the assignment of tributes,” he said.
You were caught off guard. “Uh.. uhm… I might have cut a deal with the Dean to give us the tributes from the same districts. He was supposed to give us tributes from a better district. Instead, he decided to fucks us over, and we did the same by bettering the games he hated.”
He takes in the explanation and realizes one thing.
“You knew.”
He adds, shocked, “You knew we were soulmates.”
You nod, “Yes. Ever since we were kids. You ran away from me the moment you saw the number on my wrist. The next day your wrist was burnt in an accident. I am many things, Coriolanus, but I am not stupid.”
Coriolanus feels guilt and embarrassment fester in his heart. He was ashamed of his past self. “I am sorry,” he mumbled, unable to meet your eyes.
“You're forgiven.” You smile, soft and gentle.
You tilt his head up and press a kiss to his lips.
“Tell me about district thirteen,” he said, wanting to know if the rumors were true. Especially since you had mentioned it before.
You freeze and Coriolanus catches the panic in your eyes for a split second before you relax. You didn't bother lying to him, knowing that he would catch you.
“I can't. Capitol orders. Dr. Gauls' order.”
Coriolanus clenched his jaw but nodded.
“Is that why you are here?” He asked.
“I am here because of you, that was a means to an end.”
You said it so sincerely that Coriolanus felt his cheeks burn and painted in crimson red. “I didn't get your letters,” he said in a lower voice. “I thought you abandoned me.”
“I have done many things to have you, Coriolanus Snow. Leaving you isn't in my cards.” You admitted shamelessly, not caring that he can see your obsession with him. He thrived in it so there wasn't any problem.
“I sent one every week despite Dr. Gaul forbidding it.”
“Dr. Gaul,” he thought out loud, “She stopped those letters from reaching me and vice versa.”
You frown, and he thinks you'll defend the scientist until you nod. “Makes sense, that bitch is controlling and paranoid. But there's nothing I wrote in the letters that would get us in trouble.”
You raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Coriolanus answers, “I didn't either.”
You get off his lap and stand up. You wince, raising your (his) t-shirt to check the wound he has given you. CS. There was a smile on your face as you ran your thumb around the letters. “You're insane,” you mutter affectionately.
Snow shrugs in response. He had no argument to refute your fact. “It looks great on you,” he said instead, a bit of pride creeping in his voice.
You laugh in response, “I know.”
You pick up the pocket knife, checking the blade out. You go to Coriolanus and press the blade to his jaw. You don't cut the skin. You smirk, heat in your eyes as you say, “My initials will look great on you too. But not today.”
He felt disappointed.
“When then?” Coriolanus asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
“After your punishment is over,” you said, opening your suitcase to change into something that would hide the obvious bruises on your skin.
“I won't forgive you until I have you crying on your knees, Coriolanus,” you grin, “You have to realize that your actions have severe consequences.”
You walked out of the door, leaving him alone on the bed with a crazed mind and an overwhelmed body.
NEXT PART
#character x reader#x you#x reader#x female reader#fem reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow#dystopian fiction#tom blyth#the hunger games#tbosas fanfiction#thg tbosas#tbosas x reader#tbosas#coriolanus fanfiction#president coriolanus snow#coriolanus smut#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader smut#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x female!reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow x you#snow x reader#coriolanus snow smut#thg x reader#thg series#thg fanfiction
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Were You Gay-Panicking? (Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader)
IM BACKKKKK!!! Here's my bi-monthly fic :) I'm actually kinda proud of this one, felt like some good writing. Anyhoo enjoy bitches! As always, any feedback good or bad is welcomed! PEACE
Summary: (first time doing one of these) A few months ago, Kyra had no idea who you were. Now? Now, she was gay panicking everytime she was in the same room as you.
Word Count: 4.6K (WTF?!?!?!?!?!)
Kyra didn’t exactly know how to feel about you. Sure, you were Aussie. Sure, you were an amazing fullback who could run forever and never seem winded. Sure, you were quite possibly the sweetest person ever. Sure, you were stunningly beautiful. Kyra paused, her eyes locked onto you as you laughed that adorable laugh at something Katie had said. Okay, the thing about you being beautiful kind of slipped out. It’s not like it’s not true though. You did have this just natural beauty to you, you barely wore makeup, but you still shone in Kyra’s eyes.
It was crazy that the two of you had never met before. You were roughly the same age, both Australian and now both Gunners. Unlike Kyra, you’re career up until this point had been riddled with injuries and unfortunate coincidences. Despite being an integral part of the Arsenal squad and having a breakout year last season, you were still not chosen for the World Cup, or any national team camps for that matter. Kyra had heard plenty about you from Steph and Caitlin, she had also seen you a bit on a few of the other Arsenal players' socials. You did have an Instagram account, but you rarely posted. Any true Arsenal fan knew who you were, but casual fans and Matildas’ fans probably hadn’t heard of you. You preferred to work in the background, you weren’t a big extrovert and your personality was more closed off so, consequently you weren’t insanely popular with the fans. So, when Kyra officially met you she had no idea how you weren’t the most liked player.
4 months ago
After finishing some of the required videos and finally signing her contract for The Arsenal, Kyra found herself wandering around the grounds. She had a few minutes until she was supposed to be at a press conference introducing all of the new signings, so she figured she could start exploring London Colney a bit more. As she passes through the locker room she hears some noise coming from the pitch. The distinctive sound of a boot colliding with a ball lures the Australian outside. The scent of fresh-cut grass and marking paint rushes into Kyra’s nose, bringing a soft smile to her face. Another ball gets kicked on the other side of the field. Turning her head, the midfielder is met with the sight of the prettiest woman she’s ever laid eyes on. She watched in awe at how your muscles flexed each time you struck the ball, her breath catching in her throat when you turn around. Your beautifully Y/E/C eyes glimmering, the sun hitting them just right.
“Oh, sorry. I thought the field was open.” You mutter quietly, your face heating up slightly.
“Uhm, it’s alright. I’m not here to play or anything. I mean-uh, well actually I am here to play, but not right now. At least I don’t think rig-” Kyra stumbles through her sentences until your giggle cuts her off. She blushes at the sound.
“No, I get what you mean,” you both stand there awkwardly, shifting your weight from foot to foot nervously, “Well, I should probably get going.”
“Wait! Uhh, I mean you sound Australian, you are right?” Kyra asks, desperate to keep the conversation going.
“Yeah, yeah I am. I’m from Geraldton, you?” Your voice is quiet, but Kyra is already in love with it.
“Herston, have you ever been?”
“Yeah, I mean I’ve been to Brisbane, it’s nice.” The conversation comes to a awkward lull, Kyra can see how nervous you are.
“I’m Kyra by the way.” She extends her hand out to you. Glancing at it, you smile softly and take it.
“I know, Caitlin and Steph never shut up about you. I’m Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.”
“You’re the Y/N Y/L/N? Holy shit, Caitlin and Steph never shut up about you.” A small blush forms on your cheeks. Kyra swoons at how flustered you look. She takes another second to admire everything about you. Just as she went to speak again a voice from behind her called out, telling her the press conference was about to start. “I’m really sorry, I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you, I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yeah.” With one last smile, Kyra begins to back up and then turns and jogs to the man waiting for her. Tentatively, you touch your cheeks where the blush was still, very prominently, there.
2 months ago
You watch from afar as Kyra, Caitlin, and Steph swing around from the bars singing along to Strawberry Kisses. A smile appears on your face when Kyra lets out a loud, silly laugh.
A voice startles you out of your love-possesed trance, “You know, you’re really not subtle, like, at all.”
“Shut up, Beth.” The England national smirks and for the next fifteen minutes proceeds to tease you about your developing crush on the new signing.
“Okay, Beth, I think she gets it.” Your saviour, Viv, intervenes after her girlfriend makes a kissy face aimed towards you and Kyra. Beth groans and mumbles something about Viv not being any fun. Viv lets you go back to watching Kyra workout/goof around for a few moments before throwing her two cents in,
“You like her? Like, like like her?”
You sigh, “I don’t know yet. Would it be terrible if I did?”
Viv shakes her head with a small chuckle, “Would it be terrible if you found someone you really liked and someone who is genuinely a good person? No, it’s not that bad.” You roll your eyes.
“It feels pretty terrible. But, I guess it’s not too bad, especially since she’s never gonna like me back.” The older woman gives you a look, one that screams “you’ve got to be joking right now”. You and Viv had a certain connection to each other. Both of you were introverts on a team full of extroverts, so it was nice to have someone who didn’t mind just sitting in peace and quiet without any of the pressure of having to be “on”.
“If Kyra liking you back is so crazy, then why is she staring at you right now with literal heart eyes?” Your head whips forward to find Kyra already looking at you. A blush was already creeping up your neck and you hadn’t even held eye contact for more than two seconds.
Kyra is watching you carefully when your head turns to look at her. Her heart flutters when your cheeks tint red. A sense of pride swells in her chest at being able to make you blush.
“You two make me sick,” Caitlin says from behind Kyra. Steph is quick to shush the younger Aussie,
“They’re just in love, Cait. You can’t stop young love,” she says an annoying smirk tugging at her lips. Kyra rolls her eyes at her national teammates antics.
“We are not in love. She definitely doesn’t like me, mate.”
“Sure,” Caitlin drawls out, seemingly unconvinced.
“She doesn’t. I’m like 1000% sure.”
“Then why does she blush everytime you look at her, smile at her, or laugh?” Steph says, amused.
“Wh-What? No, she doesn’t. I think I’d notice.” The two older Aussies share a look, then they grab Kyra’s head and force it to look at you. Your eyes widen when you and Kyra make eye contact, heat already rushing up to your cheeks. She gives you a warm smile which does nothing to help your burning cheeks. Deciding that you’ve had enough biking for today, you step off the bike extremely ungracefully, bumping into everything and everyone. Kyra giggles from across the gym, her Australian friends rolling their eyes.
“See? You two are so in love,” Steph tries to convince the younger girl. A frown replaces the small smile on Kyra’s face when you leave the gym,
“Whatever. You guys suck.”
2 weeks ago
“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Tony Gustavsson’s calm voice brings you back to reality.
“Oh, uh, yes sir. I mean, yes coach. Thank you so, so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.” Your voice is shaky and weak. Someone’s warm hand covers yours, lifting your head up, your met with Kyra grinning from ear-to-ear. Returning her smile, you say your goodbyes to Tony and place the phone down carefully on the kitchen counter.
You were, once again, at Kyra’s apartment. The two of you had grown closer over the past few months, unknowingly both of you had swallowed down your feelings for each other, convinced the other didn’t feel the same. It was driving the rest of the team crazy, and it was about to get worse. Finally, you had gotten your first call-up to the national team.
You and Kyra had been cozied up on her couch, watching a Christmas movie (because it’s never too early to start is it?) when your phone had began to ring. Of course, Kyra had already received her call a few days ago. It was hardly surprising, after the World Cup and with her recent performances for Arsenal she was an obvious choice for the last two friendlies of 2023. You, on the other hand, had long given up your dream of playing for the national team. Being a little bit older than Kyra and a lot more injury prone, your caps for the Matildas stood at a resounding, zero. You had never even been to a camp. So, last year when Tony never so much as gave you a call, you put your Matildas dreams behind you and focused on your club football.
“Who is it?” Kyra mumbles sleepily, she had been on the verge of falling asleep, it was impossible not to. You were perfectly situated between her legs, your head resting comfortably on her chest. The movie did little to distract her from the scent of your perfume infiltrating the hoodie she was wearing.
“I don’t know, Ky. It looks like an Australian number.”
“Wait, I know whose number that is.” She says, now fully awake.
“Who?”
She takes a deep breath, trying to hide her smile, “It’s Tony’s. Like Tony Gustavsson. The head coach of-”
“Yes, I know who Tony Gustavsson is! You don’t think he’s calling to invite me to camp is he?” You exclaim, your nerve levels rising as the phone continues to ring.
“Only one way to find out.”
Standing up, phone in hand, you take a breath before accepting the call. Kyra sits up on the couch, her hands loosening her grip on your waist.
“Hello?” Slowly making your way to the kitchen, Kyra only catches your side of the conversation. She takes a seat at the counter watching nervously as you pace back and forth in front of her. You pause. It looks like you’re trying to process everything. “Oh, uh, yes sir. I mean, yes coach. Thank you so, so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.” A full-on grin breaks out onto Kyra’s face, she reaches across the counter and takes a hold of your hand. After hanging up, there is silence in the small apartment for a few seconds.
“So?” Kyra prompts softly.
“I’m going to play for fucking Australia!” You shout excitedly. You both squeal happily, Kyra rushes over and brings you into a tight hug.
“Now we’re national teammates as well!” Kyra says into your neck, her heart pounding as you laugh your beautiful laugh.
Over the next few days Kyra helps you pack for camp, telling you all of the basic information you’d need to survive while also filling you in on all of the important bits about the team itself. Who’s friends with who, what not to say to this person, why this person acts like this. She was surprisingly helpful. So, when you, Kyra, Caitlin, and Steph boarded the flight to Australia you actually felt pretty prepared. Kyra sat beside you on the flight, chatting your ear off, you didn’t really mind though. It was how your friendship went. Kyra would talk about anything and everything, while you listened carefully, never ignoring her. She found it endearing how you remembered everything she said, sometimes she didn’t even remember herself.
An few hours into the flight, Steph leans across the aisle asking Kyra if she knew who is supposed to bring them to the hotel when they land. Kyra remembers saying something to you about it so she turns and taps your shoulder. Taking out one of your earbuds, you look at them, raising an eyebrow.
“Uh, do you know who’s supposed to be picking us up? I think I said something about it to you,” Kyra asks quietly, so as not to interrupt the other passengers.
“William.” You answer plainly. Kyra nods while Steph watches in shock.
“How in the hell did you know that? You don’t even know who that is.”
“Kyra told me last night, she also told me that she couldn’t wait to ride the ferry to Vancouver Island when we get to Canada.” Kyra blushes.
“I can’t believe you remember that,” she says, slightly embarrassed.
“It’s kind of hard not to when it’s all you would take about for ten minutes.”
Steph has to cover her laugh at Kyra’s mortified face.
“Is that seriously all I talked about last night?”
“You tend to do that. It’s actually kinda cute.” That last bit slips out before you can stop it. Now, you’re the one blushing. You decide it’s better to look out the window than to keep looking at them. Steph wanted to strangle the both of you. God, you were so oblivious. How could neither of you see that you were head over heels for each other? Whatever, you’d figure it out. Hopefully sooner than later because she had five pounds on you guys getting together before the new year.
After landing and grabbing your luggage, just as you said, William was there with a car to bring you all to the hotel the team was staying at. Walking into the lobby, cameras point at you four. Kyra and Caitlin grin and wave goofily at them, probably saying something stupid as well.
Steph smiles and waves happily, “Good to be home, huh?”
You walk behind them, looking up and waving at the cameras shyly, “Alright?”
“Hey, Y/N! Wanna do a quick interview with the other first timers?” One of the social media guys asks from behind the phone camera. Kyra stops. You look at her, uncertainty looming in your eyes.
She nods encouragingly, “Go on. I’ll take your stuff and get your room.”
“Thanks, Ky. I’ll see you later.” You smile and follow the man heading in the other direction.
“So that’s the girl you like!” Charli shouts from across the lobby.
Kyra flinches at the volume of her best friends voice, “Jesus Christ, Charli. Could you be any louder?”
“Wanna bet?” Kyra shakes her head, not wanting to see how far Charli can take things today. “She’s really pretty, I can see why you like her.” The blonde says in a much more indoor appropriate voice. Kyra just rolls her eyes in response.
After a few good days of training and getting to know everyone, the team was in Canada. Walking onto the ferry with your hoodie drawn tight to you and your toque covering the top of your head, Kyra was bouncing off the walls with excitement and energy.
“Kyra, for the love of God, please calm down.” Mini says, trying her best to calm the young midfielder down. Her words have no effect, Kyra continues doing laps around everyone. You were walking Sarah Hunter, another player about to earn their first cap, when Kyra gets in front of you and turns backward to talk to you.
“Hi Y/N! Aren’t you excited about the ferry?” She asks. Her hyperness, you notice, was starting to annoy some of your teammates, specifically Caitlin, who looked on the verge of pushing her Arsenal teammate into the Pacific Ocean.
“I am, Ky,” you lower your voice so only those close to you can hear, “But how about we tone it down, okay? We have lots of time to be excited, but maybe just chill for a few minutes so they can tell us where to go and what not, how’s that sound?”
Kyra listens to you, she falls into step with you and speaks a lot softer and calmer.
Mini stares on in disbelief, “Oh, Kyra is down bad. I mean, she didn’t even listen to me, but as soon as Y/N says something she’s on her best behaviour.”
Steph shakes her head, “You should see them at Arsenal, it’s unbearable.”
You and Sarah were in deep conversation about something Kyra couldn’t care less about. She wanted to go explore the ship, but she promised you she’d be on her best behaviour. Kyra is getting antsy and you can tell, she keeps turning her head every time there’s a new sound. You just needed to get wherever the guide wanted you guys to be and then she can do whatever she wants. Just as the team passes the gift shop, Kyra almost bolts. You catch her though, your hand intertwining with hers and securing her at your side. Kyra is taken aback by your actions and blushes profusely.
In a break in your conversation with Sarah, you lean over and mumble into Kyra’s ear, “I know, Ky. Just hold still for a little longer, okay?” Kyra nods and presses a small kiss to the top of your head. You almost die of a heart attack right there and then. Blushing, you squeeze her hand and get back into your conversation with Sarah.
“Holy shit, Kyra needs to man the fuck up and ask her out already,” Charli groans a few meters from behind you. Mini scolds her for her language, but silently agrees with her.
“Fuck me,” You mutter under your breath as Canada scores, again. Surprisingly, Tony had given you and a bunch of other players their first caps. Unsurprisingly, Canada had been dominating the entire match. You were exhausted from having to run up and down the pitch for all ninety minutes. It seemed like you were the only player who wanted to attack, or defend, or do anything at all. You definitely weren’t blaming the other Matildas on the field with you, for most of them it was their first time in their nations jersey as well. You guys were also facing a team determined to get revenge and send off their hero in the right way, so that was not helping at all. What also wasn’t helping was that there was maybe five minutes left in the match, so both teams kind of switched off. No one really cared about this blowout anymore.
Kyra was chewing on her nails as she watched another through ball to you get overhit and land straight at a Canadian defenders’ feet. She watched as you began your recovery run, eyes tracking the ball carefully. When Quinn tried to thread a ball to Prince you timed your slide tackle perfectly and intercepted the ball. The bench stood up clapping and shouting encouragement to you. Keeping the ball close to your feet, you stood back up and began dribbling into space. The defense were dropping off, determined to keep a clean sheet. Your eyes scanned the field hoping to find anyone making a run. Unfortunately, your teammates seemed gassed. So, you started to pick up your speed with the ball. Skillfully, you dribbled around Fleming and Grosso, picking your head up once again to find Tameka making a run on the weak side of the pitch. You hit the ball, aiming to lead her into the miles of green grass in front of her. She controls the ball in stride and continues driving down the wide right channel. Continuing your run, you jog up to the top of the box hoping to put any rebounds back into the box. Tameka sends a cross into the box, it heads towards the penalty spot, multiple players jump up for it. Ultimately, Gilles gets most of it and clears it out to the top of the box. Right where you are. Kyra stands up. You watch as the ball arcs in the air and starts to drop towards you. It’s as if everything is moving in slow motion. You plant your left foot into the grass, the ball drops and drops and drops. Pulling your right foot back, you wait for it to just drop a little bit more. Now. Straightening your leg, you watch your foot connect with the ball. The ball surges forward while your boot recoils from the impact. Your eyes track the ball as it soars through the air, it slips past the outstretched foot of Buchanan, Amy Sayer jumps out of the way. The goalkeeper tries her best, but it’s useless, the net ripples as the ball buries itself into the top left corner. Screaming is all you hear, you’re frozen in your spot. Suddenly, Mary is in your arms and the rest of the team is hugging you and screaming at you.
“What a fucking legend!”
“Banger! Absoloute banger!”
“Mate, you’re actually insane.”
“First goal for the Matildas, bitches!”
Tears are welling up in your eyes as you set Mary down. Holy shit. You’ve always dreamed of scoring for the Matildas, all of a sudden that dream was a reality. Mary tugs on your hand and pulls you over to where the subs are screaming and jumping up and down. You laugh. Caitlin and Steph are the first ones to you, yelling at you that you’re a baller or something like that. After they let you go, Kyra is waiting for you. She’s got that blinding smile that you’ve always loved. She pulls you into a hug.
“I’m so, so proud of you, Y/N/N.” Her hands run gently through your hair, you sink into the hug, letting out a sigh.
“Thanks Kyra, for everything. Um, I should go though the ref looks mad.” She nods and relinquishes her hold on you. Jogging back into place, you breath deeply. Finally. You had finally done it. You were a fucking Matilda.
Present Day
The team had gathered for their annual Secret Santa party. This year, it was held at Viv and Beth’s house. All the players were crammed inside the living room, a lot of food had been consumed along with a lot of laughs being laughed. There had been a Christmas movie marathon (2 movies) where you and Kyra had found a nice spot on the couch for the two of you. There had also been a small potluck, everyone brining a small dish to share with the team. Now, it was time for the gift exchange. A few weeks ago, there had been a very formal name-drawing process. There were blindfolds and everything, you were actually kind of impressed at how serious the team took it. You had drawn Frida’s name which you didn’t really mind. You got along with her well, and you were both pretty chill so it was easy to hang out with her. Her girlfriend had helped you track down some Norwegian sweets that you know she loved, you also threw in an adorable polar bear stuffy you found at a cute gift shop in downtown, London.
Everyone was going in a circle, unwrapping their presents and guessing who their Secret Santa was. So far, there had been some really sweet gifts and some really funny ones. Such as Katie giving Leah a toy keyboard, one that was really meant for two year olds. Katie defended herself saying, “It was appropriate for Leah’s skill level.”
Soon enough, it was your turn. You searched the small tree sitting in the living room for a gift with your name on it. Finding it, you carefully picked it up and sat back in your spot between Kyra’s legs. All eyes were on you as you gently unwrapped the gift, not wanting to be rude and just tear apart the wrapping paper. A gasp escapes your lips, hand flying to your mouth in shock. Everyone asks you what it is. You take it out of its case and hold it up for the team to see. Gasps similar to yours fill the room. A diamond necklace with your first name initial as a pendant hung from your fingers. It must have cost at least £100. You look around the room desperately, looking to thank the giftgiver endlessly. Multiple people shake their heads. Finally, you look behind you, Kyra didn’t meet even try to meet your eyes. Her cheeks were burning red, her hand rubbing her neck nervously.
“Uh, do you like it?” You could hear the nerves in her voice. You were still a little shocked from the gift, so you stand up abruptly and grab her hand leading her towards the bathroom.
Slamming the door shut, you whip around to look at your fellow Aussie, “What the hell? Are you insane?” Kyra flinches slightly at your tone.
“Do you not like it? Because I can return it and get you something else,” her voice was unsure.
“Wha-? Of course I like it! I love it, I love you! But, Kyra this had to have cost a shiton, I can’t accept this as a gift.” You say forcefully, still not realizing what you had said. Kyra had heard it though.
“Wait, did you just say you love me?”
You freeze. Well, you had said that. Not on purpose, though. But, it’s not like it’s not true. Kyra tentatively reaches out and takes your hand in hers,
“Y/N?”
WIthout even thinking you crash your lips into hers. She gasps, but eventually melts into the kiss, your lips working against each others perfectly. Her hands found their way to your hips, gripping them tightly. Your hands wrapped behind her neck at first before moving into her hair. As you tug on her hair she lets out a soft moan, giving you access to her mouth. Slipping your tongue inside of her mouth, she gently pushes you against the bathroom wall. A soft gasp at the cold tile lets Kyra detach her lips from yours and begin working her way down your neck. She presses wet kiss after wet kiss onto your exposed skin. Finally finding your weak spot, you moan her name quietly. Her perfume, her mouth on your neck, everything about her was overwhelming your senses.
“Ky…Ky we have to stop, someone could hear us,” you moan out softly as she places more kisses on your collarbone.
“Mmm, maybe. Or we could just keep going?” She smirks playfully at you. Fuck, her smirk did things to you that you weren’t exactly proud of. Rolling your eyes, you pushed her off of you.
“They’re probably waiting for us to continue the Secret Santa. We shouldn’t keep them.”
Kyra groans and drops her head onto your chest. You laugh, and run your fingers through her hair soothingly.
“Umm, I really like you, you know?” Her voice is muffled against you, but you heard her loud and clear.
“Oh really? I had no idea,” you say sarcastically. She slaps your chest in response.
“Shut up, asshole.” Another laugh rumbles through your chest.
“Sorry, sorry. I really like you too, Kyra.” She smiles lazily and leans in for another kiss.
“Y’know, everytime I saw you I was, like, gay-panicking,” she confesses with a embarrassed smile.
“Awww, were you gay-panicking? That’s adorable.”
“Asshole.”
#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso fanfics#kyra cooney cross x reader#kyra cooney cross#arsenal wfc x reader#awfc x reader#awfc imagine#auswnt#auswnt x reader#matildas#matildas x reader
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MAJOR RUIN SPOILERS
On my first play through I noticed some very mean words from the UI. And no, I’m not talking about Helpi. Under the objectives in the pause menu. I have seen no one talk about this and no documentation of it at all. So I went on a quest while getting all collectibles and the last ending I needed to document every single ui pause menu objective. And I ended up having my heart broken because of it
These will be put into mini compilations to help ease the photo limitations but I am almost 100% sure I have every single objective text documented.
Here are the ones that pop up before you have the mask.
Now compare that to your first message with the mask available.
THIS IS THE FIRST WITH MASK MESSAGE. LOOK AT THE DIFFERENCE IN TONE. ITS DOWNRIGHT MEAN.
Here is the compilation of the mean things said to you in this manner.
The fazer blast one is during the prototype Freddy chase. And during the music man vent chase. It knows you are in danger and does not care.
There’s also a lot
And I mean A L O T
of messages wanting to use your mask.
The context to the bottom one? A camera puzzle where you are required to wear the mask.
There are also a lot of messages that don’t seem to make sense to be from Cassie.
More context: you know where Gregory is before you even get the mask. The camera distraction during that message suddenly changes to Gregory. During the gator gondola message, why would Cassie ever reference herself in the second person? During the dead end message, Cassie fully screams out that she is stuck, with only Helpi telling her she isn’t. During the daycare attendant message, you are about to use the cameras to find anomalies with the mask on for the first time. The hurry message displays while you are already trying to get to Gregory, why the sudden urgency? With the halfway message, we don’t even know we are halfway done until Helpi states so. Why would Cassie refer to herself in the second person to compliment herself on a mask she can’t even see how it looks on her face at the time?
Then comes the section of the game where the messages become downright brutal. Roxy. Reading the messages at this point made this scene so much worse, and actually drove me to TEARS.
It is aware that it’s Cassie’s birthday, aware of Cassie’s relationship with Roxy, and even tries to invalidate Cassie’s feelings to make her keep moving forward.
Then comes the messages on the way down.
That last quote persists after you find the mimic. That’s the last message you receive. The mimic was manipulating us right from the start.
These little details add a whole new fucked up layer to the game, as you aren’t even safe from the mimic in the pause menu. It’s always there. The game was rigged from the start.
#fnaf sb#fnaf#fnaf ruin#fnaf sb ruin#fnaf security breach#fnaf security breach ruin#ruin spoilers#fnaf ruin spoilers#fnaf sb ruin spoilers#five nights at freddy's
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every love i've ever known has been drenched in blood; teach me how to unfurl these fists, show me where to put down this knife.
ax72 x reader: the fireman feels like something special.
(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), hair pulling, oral sex (f on m), biting (briefly, okay?), crying, dirty talk (tasteful but serious. i'm not kidding), just all my typical stuff (and all my usual ax72 stuff - so legs and limbs and size and the like). don't read if you're not 100% sure).
(a/n: my favorites! thank you for being patient with me. for your reading pleasure, may i present to you a ax72 fic in which he is a volunteer fireman and you are plagued with fear and self-doubt! i'm joking, but not really. i couldn't not write something for him after the insane start to the season he's had - penalty minutes leader darling deserves a treat. obviously none of the details make sense, none of the dialogue is realistic, there are way too many dramatic speeches and angsty confessions, but you guys know that at this point. to anyone who may relate to what this main character is going through, please know you are not alone. it is very easy to push good things away because they scare you. but to be scared is to care about something. follow your fear, stalk it, don't let up on it until it leads you to something lovely, something real. pretty please tell me what you think. i think jh86 may be next but i'm still storyboarding. for now, i'm sending you and your snakes every single bit of courage and love i've got. go canucks. until next time).
that first night was cold like an absent mother. cruel and unforgiving, unavoidable.
the cold was weathered, however, but the hushed laughter and bickering amongst your housemates as you all exited the front door, smoke alarms blaring, loud and relentless.
"do we actually have to evacuate if we know there's not a fire?" your roommate asked, covering her ears with her hands.
another housemate sighed. "maybe we wouldn't have to if you hadn't left your curling iron on for three fucking hours."
your roommate grimaced. "my bad, guys. this one is on me."
you couldn't help a laugh as you threw an arm around her shoulders. "we know, sweetness. live and learn."
someone groaned. "it's frigid out here, jesus."
you nodded in agreement. the alarm had begun to sound at just after two in the morning, meaning everyone in the house was dressed for bed, all thin sleep shorts and fleecy sweatshirts, no where near enough to combat the brisk air, which was already starting to make your teeth chatter.
"great. here comes the government," one of your friends said, eye roll evident in her voice as the sound of the siren began to overtake the tamer sound of the smoke alarm.
you and your roommate giggled at her comment as you huddled together. as a polysci major, she had an opinion on everything, including all facets of the public sector. for example, the fire department, who pulled up to the curb at that moment in their truck.
"who's going to do the talking?" your roommate whispered to you.
"you?" you proposed, raising a brow. "it's your iron, hm?"
she groaned, but nodded. "this should be good."
three firefighters hopped down from their massive rig, looking even more menacing in their heavy fireproof gear.
"hello, officers," your roommate began, stepping forward and away from you to speak. your shoulders shook in a laugh.
"they're not officers," you whispered to her.
"hello, gentlemen," she corrected. "i speak on behalf of our entire house when i say we appreciate your punctuality."
one of your housemates hung her head in her hands. another one groaned.
"i'm gonna go out on a limb here and say there is no real danger?" one of the firemen said, his tone steady.
your polysci friend nodded. "correct, sir. your services are no longer required."
the three men now stood just in front of you, allowing you to get a true look at them.
the one who had spoken was older, probably thirty five, shorter than his coworkers but obviously the chief. he continued to speak with your roommate about the situation as the rest of you watched on.
the next in line was taller, lankier, with a goofy face and a goofier presence. he appeared unsure of his limbs, how to keep them still.
when your gaze drifted to the third, however, your breath caught, that familiar but long-forgotten whirlwind in your stomach. your eyes drank him in greedily, the way a child gulps down a soda at a friend's house. so similar, someone in your mind whispered don't tell mom.
he was the tallest of the three, and the broadest, too, his chest a wide expanse, arms and legs practically tree-like in his canvas uniform. it was his face that really had you, though. he was beautiful in a way you had never seen before, in a surreal sort of way. the kind of face that saved you in a dream, that you tried to conjure when you woke up but never could.
sharp jaw, sharper nose, the kind of cheekbones you had seen before only in a museum. full, pink, upturned lips, downwards sloping eyes that made him appear drowsy, like the personification of a midday nap. cheeks made rosy by the cold. even under his helmet you could see his thick, dark hair, so soft-looking. that was it, you thought. he just looked so soft, even though he appeared to be made of stone.
his presence made you shiver, which was only deepened when you met his eyes, dark and clear, found them already looking at you.
something in your gaze made him smirk, made your stomach drop. you crossed your arms closer around yourself, suddenly insecure under his scrutiny.
you hated the not-knowing, wished you could see yourself from his eyes, from the outside, so that you may correct yourself, angle and present yourself in some better way.
but his eyes only sparked with danger, not disappointment. cold? he mouthed to you, so as not to interrupt the conversation. his mouth formed the words slowly, deliberately, deliciously.
yes, you thought, half stunned he was communicating with you, the cold is why i'm shivering. definitely not you. definitely not your eyes.
so you only nodded slowly, felt your eyes widen as he walked towards you, shrugging off his jacket.
you stood, frozen in place, as he held it out to you in one huge hand. he offered it to you, someone he didn't know, someone who he owed nothing to, someone from whom he knew he could possibly receive nothing in return. and yet he offered it to you, regardless.
he was so close to you, now, just a step away. you tilted your head up to look at him. "don't you need it?" you asked, willing any squeak out of your voice. surely he would realize his mistake soon, realize you weren't worth it.
his chest shook in a low laugh. "what i need is for you to not freeze," he said, his voice much deeper, rougher, than you could have imagined. "just take it, darling, yeah?"
something in your mind screamed what do you want? at him in a voice dreary with fear, raspy with experience and expectation. what's the catch?
had you met him before? surely he couldn't be this sweet to you upon just seeing you, upon not even knowing your name. had you lent him notes in one of your classes, maybe spotted him a drink at a bar? you searched for an explanation that never came.
but at that point you probably would have done anything he asked, which you knew was not good. which you knew was very, very dangerous.
which was bad, but true, so you shouldered his jacket on, found it almost oppressive in warmth. "thank you," you told him, little more then a whisper, letting your voice trail off like a question.
"arber," he finished for you.
"arber," you repeated, knowing as soon as the name died on your tongue your mouth would feel empty, would long to form the word again.
he didn't walk back to his former place, either, instead electing to stay just next to you. just close enough to make you feel almost faint. one of your housemates wolf-whistled. you imagined the image looked fairly comical, a massive oak tree of a fireman with an 80's mullet and mustache combo next to a university pre-dentistry junior in pajamas, swimming in his coat.
but you couldn't think too much about that as you gave him your name, tried to keep your eyes trained on his face. a tough task, considering the way his arms looked unobstructed by his jacket.
everything about him was distracting. your heart was racing. how were you going to be able to get back to sleep after this?
"well, ladies, i hope you've learned your lesson," the chief said, appearing to finish a speech you had missed entirely.
"sure have, officer," your roommate said stoically.
"not an officer, miss," he corrected. the shake in his head was telling, made your housemates snicker.
"apologies, sir," she finished, giving him a salute.
"sorry you guys had to come all the way out here," one of your other housemates said.
"no trouble at all," arber said, his first time speaking to everyone. he was looking only at you. melting you like snow in the morning.
"until next time," your roommate said with a little bow, turning to go back into the house, now silent.
"there won't be a next time, sweetness," you amended, forcing your gaze away from arber. she waved you off.
reluctantly, you made to shrug off arber's jacket, hand it back to him as the other two firemen got back into their truck, your housemates walking back inside, leaving just the two of you.
"sure you don't need it?" he asked, the roughness in his voice somehow gentle. his words coming out in exactly the shape of the hole in your chest.
you gave a light laugh. "think i'll survive the trek back," you said, referring to the several steps between you and the front door. "thanks again, arber."
"my pleasure, darling," he said, and your cheeks flushed at the term. this brutal cold, you thought, making my face pink.
his lips quirked in a way that made your stomach flip. a way that made you so suddenly sure he knew exactly what effect he had on you. exactly how little the cold had to do with it.
"well," you said, your hands laced behind you, your voice taking on a melodic sort of cadence. "i guess i'll see you around, hm?"
"hope so," he hummed, something amusing in his tone. something careful. "sweet dreams, darling."
"good night, arber," you answered, dazed and blushy. like saying goodnight to an old friend, to a middle school boyfriend, to someone who knew you too personally to be real.
but somehow, it was saying goodbye to someone whom you had known for only moments.
the truck pulled away, you shut the front door behind you.
"should i just leave my iron on 24/7?" your roommate asked immediately, not giving you a moment to catch your breath. "maybe throw some rocks in the microwave?"
you rolled your eyes at her. "oh, please," you said.
"don't worry," she finished, an impish smile on her pretty, round face. "i'll wait until you're in the shower, next time."
you playfully slapped her arm as you made your way back into your room, not bothering to stifle both of your giggles.
you went to sleep that night with mirages of dark brown eyes and corded shoulders in your head. you swore you could smell smoke, could feel flame, could sense danger.
the feeling stayed with you, settled like ash in your bones. a heat, a skepticism, a want, a worry. you halfway hoped you would never see him again, because when had one person ever had such an effect on you? when had you let them?
you halfway hoped you would never see him again, but as soon as you did see him again, you knew that hope had been a complete and utter lie.
it was only a few days later, in the middle of your serving shift at the pub close to campus. only a wednesday, so nothing too busy, just a regular shift. your regular black uniform, long braid down your back with black ribbon, everything the same as always.
and then he was in a booth, practically taking up the whole bench, his deep laugh at something one of his friends had said making you dizzy.
surely it's not him, you thought as you took out your guest check pad, it couldn't be him. how could you have gone twenty one years without seeing him once, then see him twice in a week?
what trickster god was toying with you, now?
and then you were standing in front of his table, and it couldn't be him, but it was. of course it was.
but you didn't know if he would recognize you without your pajamas on, couldn't fathom that he could have dreamed of you with the vigor you had him, so you went on, business as usual.
"hi, guys," you said, your customer service voice ringing through the air like a bell. muscle memory had you placing napkin coasters down in front of each person. "can i get some drinks started for you?"
you took the orders of the others before finally locking eyes with arber. it wasn't any easier than you remembered. it wasn't any cooler, didn't feel any less like being engulfed in flame. "and for you?" you asked, hating how you couldn't just admit to recognizing him. hating how your mind preferred crafting protective plans to just being honest.
but he upended you, as you should have perhaps expected. his smirk was subtle. "am i that forgettable, darling?" he asked, like it was just the two of you.
the answer was so obvious you could have rolled your eyes, but you just cleared your throat and choked on a laugh, happy to have an excuse to show your delight. the insecurity in your head sighed in relief.
"arber!" you exclaimed, clicking your pen nervously, "thought that was you."
he nodded towards your general figure. "good to see you warm," he said with that rough voice you could feel in your chest like a bullet.
you hummed. "good to see you," you said, not bothering to add a condition.
something he noticed, something that made him smile, therefore something so, so worth the risk. your grin overtook your face all at once, toothy and real.
it appeared to shock him as much as you, his expression suddenly one of wonder, of awe.
you cleared your throat again, rediscovered the other people at the table, went to get everyone's drinks and then ran their food orders to the kitchen.
and you tried not to dwell on the way his hand looked around a glass, like it was kid's toy in a play kitchen, tried not to zone out on his lips as they formed words, not to blush whenever he looked at you.
you only laughed, mumbled a thank you when he joking said this was the best service he had ever had.
when he asked how you day had been, you had just blushed, muttered something affirmative, tried not to drop the glass you were holding, hated how anyone's attention, never mind a man's, could render you so helpless.
it was a whole lot of trying, a whole lot of awareness and controlling your own limbs, your own reactions like a marionette puppet. this way, you guided your arms, lined with plates of food. that way, you led your legs. these words, no, not those ones. no, no blushing, no not like that.
your marionette puppet appeared defective in many ways, many frustrating ways.
it was the slowest shift of your life. you felt oh so tired by the time arber's table asked for the check, felt oh so embarrassed by how hard you had been trying all night, hated how it was impossible for you to hide your effort.
it was all over you. it was in the slight sheen of sweat on your upper lip, in the strands of hair that had come free from your braid, in the way your voice shook when he spoke to you, the wobble in your knees when your eyes met.
you were trying so devastatingly hard, and you knew he could see, that everyone could see. was it terrible, was it so naive of you to hope maybe he wouldn't mind? that maybe the effort would flatter him instead of scare him away?
when you came to give back the card and receipt, his friends had gone. it was only him, taking up all that space in the booth.
he smiled when he saw you. it was soft. he was soft, this marble man.
you placed the check on the table. "there you are," you said, threading your empty hands together behind your back, part of you scared their idleness would lead to reaching for him. "thanks for coming," you added, then physically cringed.
thanks for coming? what, like this was some party you'd thrown?
he laughed, low and gentle, at your expression. of course, he was laughing at you. how could he not, with how you were acting? your head dropped like it was full of bricks as you flushed, as hot shame began to pull at the edges of your face.
but then you felt him take your chin in one of his large, rough hands, tilt your head back up high to meet his gaze. there was nothing but softness in his hands, in his eyes. no judgement, nothing of the sort.
his touch felt like drowning in flame, even in this small dosage, and you knew immediately it was too dangerously good. you swallowed.
when was the last time someone had touched you like this and you hadn't secretly wished they would only just leave you alone?
"thanks for inviting me," he said, playing along with your words so mercifully. "think maybe you'll have me again?"
you nodded, couldn't stop your shy smile. "maybe," you said, your voice a breath.
too soon, his hand was gone, leaving your face cold, lacking.
"can i tell you something?" you asked, quiet and hopeful.
"'course," he said, like he would never deny you such a request.
"i sort of feel like i've met you before," you said.
"i don't know," arber said thoughtfully, "think i'd remember someone like you."
your mouth ticked. "someone like me?"
he tilted his head, just looked at you for a moment, his gaze comfortable in its greed, its genuine appreciation. "why do you think we've met?"
you shook your head. "something about you," you said, trying to figure it out yourself. like i dreamed you up, you thought, are you real? are you sure?
his smile was subtle. "hope it's something good, eh? something like you?" too soon, he was signing his receipt, and then he was up, walking towards the door, to his waiting friends. "sweet dreams, darling," he said, like there was no one else in the pub, in this universe.
if he had told you as much, you would have believed him.
after a moment to catch your breath, you took the receipt from the table, found not only a generous tip but a phone number and a child-like scrawl that read coffee?
your head bowed in delight. when was the last time someone had asked you out? had not texted you deep into the night, at the time when the parties were ending and something much more terrifying was just beginning?
when was the last time you were nervous for a date, but the innocent kind of nervous?
you were that innocent kind of nervous when you approached the agreed-upon coffee shop several days later, at the middle of the day, between your classes.
there he was, standing in front of the cafe, hard to miss in stature and presence.
you had spent a scary amount of time deciding what to wear, eventually landing on what you wore everyday. you gave him a timid wave, were met with a confident wave back.
do i shake his hand? you thought. no, i've worn his jacket. maybe a high five?
your overthinking was quickly overwhelmed by the realization that he was pulling you in close for a hug.
you froze for a moment, your mind short-circuiting, your body uneasy, unused to such casual gentleness, ease.
your head against his chest, his arms all the way around you, you probably could have passed out. your mind mumbled something about cardiac arrest as you slowly hugged him back.
he smelled like the forest, like dull smoke and wooden fog.
"swear you get prettier every time i see you, darling," he said as you both pulled away, his eyes full of sweetness.
you had to close your eyes as you breathed out a laugh, already turning pink. "you sure know how to embarrass me," you said, teasing, trying to recover.
he held the door open for you as you both entered the cafe. "it's too tempting," he argued, smiling. "that blush you get..." he trailed off as if lost in his mind. sparks, smoke, flame, ash.
you knew the feeling.
he ordered some kind of sugar-bomb, practically a coffee milkshake, you ordered your usual flat white with soy milk.
and you were out of practice when it came to first dates, but it didn't seem to matter. he didn't seem to notice the pauses you took to think about your words, or if he did, he didn't say anything.
you learned that he was on the hockey team, that he was a volunteer fire-fighter for the school, about where he was from and his family.
he asked about your family, about your studies, about your job, what you did for fun.
and when you told him how much you loved your pre-dentistry classes, he made a joke and popped his fake tooth in and out, which made your laugh come so easy.
you told him how much you looked forward to seeing your sister, how funny your shift the day before had been, how much you loved your house's movie nights.
he asked about you, and it dawned on you that your last boyfriend had never truly asked you simple questions like that, and he certainly had never cared about the answers.
you had sudden flashbacks, you and your ex in bed, you asking him about his week, him giving you some dismissive response as if you had asked him if you could take out some of his teeth sans anesthesia.
how, towards the end, it had felt as if you were engaged in some kind of corrupt exchange, sex for tolerance of your curiosity, sex for tolerance of you.
the memory sent a shiver down your spine, a wave of shame. you could not go through that again. you refused to put yourself through that again.
through the relentless begging for something, for attention? no, begging to be treated like a person? like a girlfriend? begging for him to just be a little more gentle. yes, that's it. you had gone months feeling like nothing but a burdensome bag of stones he had reluctantly agreed to carry around, and you refused to feel that way again.
you just wanted gentle. you just wanted soft, and when arber waved a hand in front of your face to break you from your trance, you realized it might not be crazy to think you were close.
"you okay, darling?" he asked, concern lacing his expression. "lost you, hm?"
"'m okay," you said, shaking your head. "sorry, just thinking."
"'bout what?" he asked.
your heart jumped at the intimacy of being asked such. of someone wanting to know what was going on in your head.
so, you decided to be honest, to an extent. "'bout how 'm very happy to be here, with you," you said, looking him in the eye. feeling no desire to look away.
his face was so utterly pleased. he looked so beautiful then, the sun drenching the side of his face, lighting him up. "makin' me blush, now, darling," he said, and his tone made you swoon.
"sorry," you said, an instinct that made you want to smack yourself.
"don't apologize," he said immediately, "i know i'll get you back."
talking with him felt just so easy that you were again struck with a disbelief that you had only known him for a few days, had only spoken with him a couple of times. you felt like he was inside of your head, like he always had been. something you had never felt before, something that had you saying yes much too quickly when he asked if you wanted to come skating with him that weekend.
you had never skated before, but you were sure if he had asked you to watch paint dry, you would have said yes, because it would have been with him.
but the rational part of your brain was currently overwhelmed by fear, by insecurity, by the terror that you would lose this great thing before you had ever really had it.
"what was i thinking?" you said to your roommate as you struggled to find something to wear. "i have no idea how to skate! i'm going to look like an idiot!"
she waved you off. "you won't, you know you won't. deep breath."
you both took a breath together, tried to exhale some of your nerves.
the quiet that followed felt like another friend. you sighed, sat down on the edge of your bed, held your head in your hands.
"i can't keep thinking like this," you said to her and yourself. "i can't be so fucking scared all the time."
"c'mon, love," she said, sitting next to you and holding you tight. "what will feel better, do you think? coming home after avoiding rejection, walls intact?" she squeezed you. "or maybe coming home with another person to lean on?"
you both knew the answer. you wanted so badly to act accordingly, hoped your overactive mind would let you.
so, when you showed up at the rink, you made the ittiest-bittiest promise to yourself that you wouldn't let your fear get in the way.
if only you knew he would never have let you. that he could never be so easily scared.
he greeted you with a hug once again, and you held him tighter than you had the first time. "thanks for coming," he said, a spark of a shared inside joke in his eye.
"thanks for having me," you replied immediately, a mirroring smile on your face. "'m gonna be honest with you-"
"please do," he said immediately, and you could have melted.
"i have no idea how to skate," you rushed, "so i'm going to be very slow and probably fall and it's probably gonna get ugly."
he let you finish, an amused sort of smirk overtaking his mouth.
"what's so funny?" you asked, furrowing your brow.
"i think you're funny," he said, simply.
you scrunched up your face. "you makin' fun of me, arber?"
he laughed, then, low and rough and grumbly as he reached his hands around you and settled them on the small of your back. "oh, pretty baby, promise 'm not, yeah?"
you pouted, but rested your palms on his chest nonetheless.
his gaze cut through you. "don't expect you to be good at everything, okay? i'll help you," he explained. "just think it's funny you think anything you do could be ugly. imperfect isn't ugly."
"i'll prove you wrong," you said immediately, although you were flushed already, could feel yourself soften, your walls crumble just a bit.
his shoulders shook again. "promise you'll stick around long enough to?"
you had nothing to say to that. what could you ever say?
and then you were out on the ice, more off-balance than you had ever been, and not just because of the skates.
he held your gloved hands in his, tight but not restrictive, keeping his eyes on yours. you willed some of the steadiness in his gaze into your body, found stability in him and let it flow into you like water. he was basically pulling you, but you were moving, and you weren't falling, so you took it as a win.
"'atta girl," he said when you made a turn, soft, proud, and you could have laughed. surely he knew what he was doing, no?
your eyes darted up to his, found a lazy smirk, found your answer.
you shook your head, continued to push with your legs, gaining confidence, gaining balance. "turn off the dream boy for a second, would you?" his smirk deepened. "'m tryna focus, here."
"my fault, darling," he said, false apology saturating his voice as he suddenly dropped your hands. "by all means."
you stumbled forward into him immediately, your body unused to the ice without him to ground you.
you narrowed your eyes at him, looking up at his face, your palms against his chest, his arms around your waist. "not funny," you said, giving him a playful slap. "i could have broken something."
he shot you a look. "you honestly think i'd let that happen?"
your gaze dropped for a second. "no," you sighed. "no, i don't." a revelation in itself.
he pulled you closer, pressed his lips to your hair in a kiss that singed. so quick, you could have missed it. maybe you would have, if you hadn't been so unconditionally in tune to him, to everything he did, to every breath that shook his chest, to every quirk of his mouth and glint of his eye.
your heart sang at the affection you had been so lacking, had somehow missed even though you had never really had it.
so, of course it was a no-brainer when he asked you to come to his next home game.
"i'd really like if you were there," he said as he untied your skates for you, bent on one knee in front of you.
"then i'll be there," you said, flushed, because it was the easiest answer you had ever given. when he gave you that big smile in return, so genuine and goofy, you knew you would have a hard time saying no to anything he asked. just keep smiling at me, your mind begged him. that's all i ask.
the game came quickly, suddenly, after a busy week of shifts and school and everyday things. before you knew it, the day was here, and then you were in the stands, watching him skate like it was second nature, like it came easier than walking.
you had been able to tell at your rink date that he was steady on his feet, but this was different entirely. this was like seeing him at home, like watching him fall asleep.
and it beautiful, it was lovely, it was so intimate until two players started to fight and you realized one of them was him.
one of the people throwing punches that looked lethal, taking fists to the ribs, to the jaw, one of the people with a bleeding nose, a gashed lip, one of the people with blood running down his knuckles - that was your arber. your dream boy.
it wasn't, but it was you - you were the one throwing the right hook, you were the one doubled over, you were the one spitting out blood. you were equally the one punching and being punched. you had set the flame, you were burning.
was it terrible that you felt a little sick to your stomach? you clutched at the edge of your seat, exhaled a short breath, immediately decided you would rather leave than watch blood run down his face on the jumbotron.
as you left the arena, got into your car, drove back to your house, someone in your head was screaming at you, someone with a shrill, panicked voice was screamed scared, scared, scared, scared, scared and you didn't know how to get them to stop.
why are we running? you asked the voice in your head, what are we so afraid of?
what are you so afraid of?
because it wasn't him, you explained to your roommate at some later time, maybe the next day, after the desire to bathe in silence had been overcome by the desire to tell just about anyone.
you were not afraid of arber, knew there had never been anyone in the world more gentle with you. no, there had never been someone who had treasured your heart so truly, who had wanted to understand you to an almost scientific extent, who had dropped into your life like an asteroid and blown it apart just as similarly.
if not him, then what is there to fear?
what is there to fear, if not placing your beat-up heart in his bloodied hands? what is there to fear, if not the desire to press your lips to each of his cracked knuckles, the urge to know him to the point of no return, the want to feel his teeth on your neck, his fingers in your mouth?
sirens went off in your mind. scared, scared, scared.
scared of you, yourself, of offering yourself up to him, to being devastated by him. scared of being so completely vulnerable, of taking all your armor off, finally.
in the end, you were terrified of how scared seeing him hurt made you, because that meant you cared much more than you thought, perhaps much more than you had ever before.
how come no one told you that as much as being scared for yourself hurt, being scared for someone else, that was real fear, pure and undiluted.
a fear captivating enough that you decided to just not deal with it for days, to ignore his texts even though it hurt like a dagger to the chest.
he'll lose interest eventually, you thought, he'll leave me alone eventually. then, finally, i won't have to be scared.
so why did that admission feel like being burned at the stake? why was some small part of you screaming at you to stop?
regardless, you held fast for three days.
and then your roommate put rocks in the microwave.
so you and your housemates stood in the front yard, the air deja-vu-inspiringly cold, the situation almost exactly the same as that first night.
"what's wrong with you?" you whispered-yelled at her. "how do you accidentally almost blow up our house?"
she waved you off, pouted for a moment. "you know how forgetful i get."
"yeah, i don't know if forgetful is the adequate descriptor here," one of the other girls said. "i have a few more specific words in mind."
"oh, come on," you roommate said to the group as the fire truck siren began to yet again overwhelm the smoke alarm. "god forbid a girl make a mistake around here."
you didn't hear the rest of the bickering, too busy sending up a silent prayer, begging some god, any god to listen. please, don't be him. please, if there is anything good in this world, it won't be him.
but, of course, as soon as you saw the massive figure climb down from the truck, you paled.
there might not be anything good, some voice told you then, but perhaps there is something right.
"long time no see, ladies," the same older fireman said, and that was the last thing you heard. the last thing that any of your senses consumed before all of them were so brutally and totally overwhelmed by arber.
because what was he, if not overwhelming? especially now, after having deprived yourself of him for days? how had you managed that?
seeing him here, in front of you, you had no idea.
because he was here, in front of you, this beautiful oaken man, and his hair was messy under his helmet, and his face was flushed from the cold, and his five-o'clock shadow made his jaw sharper, and you could feel his warmth from here.
because he was here, walking to you, right in front of you, dropping his giant jacket onto your shoulders silently, somehow, somehow he was still that kind, and then he was whispering to you.
"alive, are you?" he murmured, as if he almost couldn't believe it.
and you felt so selfish then, the guilt growing like poison ivy in your veins, up your throat, until you couldn't open your mouth for fear that only three-pronged leaves would come out.
you looked up at him, met his eyes, found them burning but unreadable.
a pause that felt infinite deflated as you struggled for words. "listen, arber-"
but he shook his head, almost looked sorry. "don't think i will, darling," he whispered, the name making your stomach sink. someone screamed in your head. "don't care much for hearing why 'm not worth a phone call."
you were shaking your head before he even finished. "no, no, arber, please, that's not it-" your voice was so close to cracking, splitting apart like brittle wood.
"what is it, then?" he said, and you noticed a quiver in his voice too, a warning, "because i've been trying to come up with something for days, and every option i've got hurts."
oh, good god, you had made him hurt? that alone was dizzying.
dizzying and so, so sobering, enough for you to mutter something aloud about arber helping you turn the smoke alarms off, pull him into your house, up into your room.
you barely noticed the alarms subsiding, him hitting all of the necessary buttons wordlessly on his way up the stairs.
and then he was in your room, and you two were alone, and he was sitting on the edge of your bed, taking his helmet and boots off, crossing his arms across his chest.
"by all means," he prompted. "tell me i'm crazy, darling, please, please tell me i've got something wrong."
you took a breath, set the marionette puppets strings down, finally. there was no leading your limbs anywhere, no running words over one million time in your head until you had the right ones.
it was finally time to set aside the fear, to unfurl your forever clenched fists.
your exhale was liberating as you approached him, not touching him, not yet, but close enough so that you could see his eyes, so that he could see the revelation in yours.
"you're not crazy," you said, the softness in your voice surprising you. "i've been trying so, so hard to make you think i don't care."
he scoffed, ran a hand through his messy hair, mercifully waited for you to finish.
"and i'm so, so sorry that i didn't call, and that i left during your game, and that i treated you like you were anything but special, arber."
he looked up at you then, and you saw a soft spark of hope in his eyes that spurred you on.
it was silent for a beat, and then he reached for your hand, held it in his grip, warm and consuming.
"i thought i scared you away," he said, vulnerable, completely honest.
you squeezed his hand, stepped closer, cupped his jaw in your other palm. "i was afraid," you admitted, and that alone felt like salvation. "but not of you." you swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb. "never of you."
with a single swift motion he tugged you onto his lap, both of his hand on your hips. there might not be anything good, that voice whispered like a gossipy teen, but perhaps there is something right. perhaps this is it.
"tell me," he said, not an order but a request.
you would have told him anything, then, as you reached up to loop one arm around his neck, use the other hand to twist one of his curls around your finger. "i hated seeing you hurt," you confessed, moving your fingers down to trace lightly over the greenish bruise next to his eye, the healing gash on his lip. "you give me so much more to lose, baby."
he was silent, still, so close you could feel his shaky exhales on your hand. you willed yourself to finish your thoughts, refused to leave him anything but completely certain, even if it was hard to focus with him under you, against you, all around you. even under the exceptional spotlight of his undivided attention.
"i was lying when i acted like i didn't want you," you said, your tone every bit as ultimate as you felt. "and i understand if you don't forgive me, and i won't hold it against you, but i promise i won't lie to you again, okay?"
you held his face like it was made of glass. his grip on your hips tightened, eyes bursting further into flame.
"let me convince you," you pleaded, willing every genuine thing from your bones into your words. "you have to believe me, baby, i care so, so much. a scary amount."
and something in you sighed, swooned, when you saw that amusement you had missed creep back into his gaze like a fog on the ocean.
his thumbs rubbed circles into the flesh of your hips as you relaxed further into him. "scary, hm?"
you nodded, peered up at him through your lashes.
"how about this, darling?" he offered, voice a tired rasp. "i'll believe you if you do one thing for me, yeah?"
"anything," you said, meaning it more completely than anything before.
the glint in his eye was dangerous as his grip turned firmer. he gave a hum of approval. "tell me something true."
after trying just so deliriously, terrifyingly hard for so long, nothing had ever come easier. with him, now, the truth was easy as breathing. "i want you," you breathed, running your nails lightly down his neck, relishing in his stifled groan. "so, so bad, arber. need you, please." your chest rose and fell in a hurried breath. had you ever been so free of fear? so buoyant with hope, with courage?
he hoisted you up on his lap, pulled you against his chest until it felt as if there was barely enough air to share between the two of you. "good girl," he said, a rough, low, rasp, and he caught your whimper in his teeth as your lips met his.
his kiss felt like molten iron, like forest fire smoke, like initials carved into a heart on an ancient oak tree. he felt like sun on your face and like drowning, drowning, drowning, this kind of torture one you would happily submit to over and over again.
you tangled your hands in his hair as he groaned into your mouth, pulling you up on his lap until you could feel him, so big and hard under you that you let out a gasp.
he smiled against your lips at your reaction, and you knew there would never be anything so glutted with bliss.
you kissed him harder, with the urgency of a thousand missed chances as he rocked you back and forth across his lap, slipping his hands under the waistband of your sleep shorts, his hands now scorching your bare skin.
"look so good in my jacket, darling," he rasped, "let me take it off, hm? want to see you."
you shrugged it off in obedience, placed both your hands on his chest and looked him in the eye, pleading.
one of his hands brushed your hair away from your face, gentle, soft, as you had always known him to be. he dragged his thumb down to your swollen lip, let it rest there for a moment.
"'f you want something, just ask," he grumbled, transfixed by your mouth. "know i'll give you anything you want 'f you ask for it, darling."
you pulled at his shirt, willed any oncoming flush or fear away. "please can i suck you off, arber?"
his smirk was devastating, delicious. "pretty baby wants me in her mouth?"
you nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips.
"course you can, darling, askin' so pretty for me, too."
you glowed at his praise, sunk down to your knees, admired him as he pulled away at his layers of clothes until finally you could reach for him, hold him in your hand, hot and heavy and just so big, so much so that you couldn't help your eyes widening, your mouth watering.
he groaned at your touch, tilted his head back and scrunched his eyes shut at the sensation of your soft palms on his cock.
you hid your grin, spit into your hands and pumped him up and down a few times before taking him in your mouth, making him moan, almost growl as he gathered all of your hair, wrapped it around his fist, the other hand bracing him against your bed.
"fuck, darling," he rasped, watching you bob your head up and down, "feels so good, so good for me, hm?"
you would have nodded, but instead you were overcome with a desire to take more of him, as much as you could. so you sunk your head down further, until your eyes watered, until air came in short spurts, until you gagged, felt him grow impossibly harder in your mouth.
he gripped your hair tighter, making you moan on his cock. "oh, darling, you want more, hm?"
you hummed, looked up at him through watery lashes, reddening eyes.
"want to take it all, do you?" he asked, "just want me to feel good, is that it?"
you moaned in affirmation, sunk your head down on him again, as far as you could go, relished in his groan, the way his thighs tensed, the way his forearms flexed.
already, your jaw was growing stiff, your shoulders strained, your knees warm from the carpet. too soon, though, he was pulling you up off of him, up from your knees back on top of him, wiping the spit from the sides of your mouth with his thumb, pressing a gentle kiss to your tired lips.
you pouted, wanting more still, and his shoulders shook in a low laugh. "not done, darling?"
you shook your head, ran your nails across his shoulders, down to his biceps, loved the way you could feel shivers erupt under your fingertips.
"i'll give it to you if you ask," he reminded you, simply, because of course it was that simple, that gentle.
you pressed your lips to his chest, his neck, his jaw, bit down softly on his collarbone. "please fuck me," you begged against his skin, "been wanting it forever, arber, need you to fuck me, need you to stretch me out."
in a moment he flipped you so that your hips were angled up to him, your chest against your bed, your cheek to your sheets.
"been waiting, have you, darling?"
you whined, nodded.
"no more waiting," he said, running his fingers through your folds, already so wet, "promise, no more waiting, pretty baby, okay?"
"please," you mustered, the end of the word becoming strangled as he began to push into you. it was altogether too much - every possible voice inside of you screaming too much and not enough in some cacophonous harmony.
his groan was raw, full of relief, release, confirmation. he held onto your hip tightly with one hand, the other wrapping around your stomach to keep you grounded, keep you here as you felt like you were floating away.
the pressure was dizzying, staggering, enough that your breathing was choked, your mind completely clouded, your already watery eyes just barely holding back tears.
you reached a hand back to grasp at his forearm as he pushed further, almost all the way inside of you. you whimpered as the stretch reached a peak, as he stilled, making the stray, warm tears finally fall down your cheeks, hang on your jaw before collecting on the sheets under you.
"so pretty when you cry, darling," he breathed, tight and short as you adjusted to him, and he to you.
"please, arber, just move, hm?" you pleaded. "need it, please."
his embrace around your middle tightened as he began to move in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, almost undetectable.
"so whiny, hm?" he bit out. "pretty baby knows what she wants?"
you nodded feverishly. "just give it to me, baby, please, just let me take it."
"don't know if you can," he said, and you pouted. "don't want to hurt you, hm?"
you clutched at his forearm, began to fuck back onto him, determined to get the motion and pace you needed so desperately.
"want it to hurt, arber, please, please give me all of it," you spoke with all of the greed of a sinner seeking salvation. "need all of it."
he abandoned any qualms about hurting you, immediately adopting a brutal pace, so hard and deep you swore your teeth began to chatter. you bit out a choked moan, grabbed at your sheets with your fist, scrunched your eyes shut at the pressure building inside of you.
his grunts grew rhythmic in time with his thrusts. "feel so good, know that, darling?" he rasped. "being so fuckin' perfect for me."
you hummed in response, gasped when he ran a hand across your clit, making you clench tighter around him.
he cursed at the sensation, continued to tease you as he thrusted deeper.
"like that," you breathed, growing dangerously close, "fuck, just like that baby, right there."
"gonna make me cum, darling," he warned, pressing his palm flat against your clit, the friction maddening. "feel too good."
"please cum for me, baby," you begged, your voice raw, "need it so bad, arber, need all of you." you moaned. "fuck, give me all of it."
he groaned as he came, triggering your own orgasm, an overwhelming wave of pleasure that consumed you utterly and entirely. you felt him collapse on top of you, barely registered him pulling you into his side as you both caught your breath in comfortable silence.
moments passed slowly, thick like aged honey, fragrant, sweet.
he lazily traced his thumb across your cheekbone, down your jaw, your collarbone. eventually, you looked up at him, found his eyes full of something homely.
you thought briefly about how you looked in that moment, what he was seeing - spit on your face, skin probably splotchy and red in places from wear, hair fussed and skin sparkling with sweat.
notably, though, the thought evoked no fear, not even for a moment. because you were beautiful like this, like always.
you exhaled a breath, soft, gentle, and buried some ancient curse with it.
the silence was blissful. eventually you heard loud footsteps on the wooden hallway steps, eye widening as you realized there were other people that lived in this house, in this room.
you pressed a hand to his chest to prepare him. "sweetness!" you called out. "do not come in here!"
"why?" came your roommate's voice through the door. "is there a fire?"
you exchanged a look with arber.
"kidding!" she added, her voice growing more distant. "i'll be in the kitchen. big guy, chief left without you!"
your shoulders shook in a pleased, peaceful laugh. he smiled at you, then, a warm, soft smile with teeth, and what was there left to do but smile right back? "what'm i supposed to do, darling?" he asked.
you got up, slowly, reluctantly, tied your robe from the bathroom around yourself, handed him his clothes. "c'mon," you said, "i'll show you the kitchen."
he leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to your lips before tugging on his clothes, grabbing his helmet.
i'll show you everything went unsaid by you, but not misunderstood by him.
he held your bedroom door open, holding your gaze with a goofy grin. "after you," he rasped.
you bowed past him and wordlessly told the picture frames in the hallway to behave, we have guests.
fin.
#hockey#hockey smut#nhl#smut#nhl smut#jack hughes#jack hughes smut#quinn hughes#trevor zegras smut#jack hughes x reader#arber xhekaj smut#arber xhekaj#arber xhekaj x reader#arber xhekaj imagine#montreal canadiens#cole caufield smut#cole caufield x reader#cole caufield imagine#cole caufield#quinn hughes smut
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slow shift
7k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader
Series Masterlist l Next Chapter
series summary: Tommy’s Diner is where dreams go to die and burnouts clock-in for work. Waitressing would be boring without the flirtatious distractions of line cook Frankie Morales.
warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), swearing, talking about w33d, alcohol consumption (not by reader or frankie, but discussions of alcohol), oral (f! receiving), discussions of periods and Plan B, frankie having a fat d!ick, slightly public sex, unprotected p in v (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), you know how I roll
A/N: welcome to the first part in my linecook!frankie series! It's all just going to be chaos!! enjoy dirty dishes, cussing, and decent food made by the hot linecooks. I’ll have a title as soon as I stop putting it off <3 enjoy! let me know what you think! also how LIT is the banner
here's my masterlist!
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“Don’t-- mm -- don’t have a lot of time, Francisco.” You teased for dominance, using his full name made him muster up a dirty chuckle.
You were ready to turn around and have him fuck you into the wall, but his hand snagged your wrist, and he stopped you. Confusion screwed into your face. Then his mouth muttered the most filthy thing you had heard yet from him.
“Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He muttered, your body slumping into his. Fuck it, you were Frankie Morales’ tonight.
Welcome to hell.
A makeshift building somehow still holding up four walls that housed a small restaurant inside.
This wasn’t some secret treasure that belonged on an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives or a hidden hole-in-the-wall five-star Michelin Restaurant. This was Tommy’s Diner.
The locals had different names for the run-down dump you called your place of employment: the Hometown Heartburn Hut (true), American Pie ( ha-ha funny), the Rusty Spoon (some guy OD’s behind the place one time, and no one ever forgets), or Tumbleweed, your pothead coworkers liked to call it. It was a tumbleweed because the restaurant was barren, emphasis on the weed to accommodate the faded line cooks that lurked in the back of the restaurant.
Don’t let today’s slow shift fool you; there were times when Tumbleweed was cram-packed. Friday night football games were busy with tailgaters, bustling with teens after a championship game. Other times, it was when a Greyhound bus or a similar cross-country vehicle drove through and took a stop for the passengers.
The most popular time of year was in the summer. Tommy’s Diner hosted Saturday night Cruise Nights. The town would flood with classic cars and hot rods, and the diner would transform into a drive-in. Their engines revved through different cities from far and wide to be at Tommy’s. That’s when the place felt the most alive, bustling with people and their laughter, little kids running with their milkshakes and flipping quarters into the rigged claw machine.
But it wasn’t a Saturday in August. It was a Monday. You were stuck with the misfit motley crew that did everything from dishwashing, cooking, bussing, running the register, being half-ass managers, and, of course, the token pretty waitress. You.
You will admit that each character working at Tumbleweed had a unique story etched into their grubby hands or baggy-eyed faces. They’ve weathered years of late-night shifts and condiment, grease-stained aprons.
Tonight there was Lou, the jaded by heartbreak teenage busboy. He walked with a shuffle, always sniffling about an ex-girlfriend. He worked slow and god damn, did that piss you off.
Then there was Tina, the aspiring singer stuck in a small-town type. She was newer, still learning how things worked since she had never waited tables a day in her life. She had that fresh twinkle of stardom in her eye despite being in her late 30’s. You were training her and trying not to let her drive you up the wall whenever she started singing different songs on the jukebox. Note to self: Put a sticky note saying it’s busted every time you work together.
Paul was the do-it-all guy. Toilet clogged? Get Paul. Dishes piling up? Ask Paul to do it. The cashier on a bathroom break? Paul can run the till. He was useful, just complained and grumbled a lot.
Tommy of Tommy’s Diner hasn’t worked a day in years. He’s older, so it’s understandable. Last thing you heard was he was down in Florida, living out retirement in a cheap home with a gambling addiction. Sounded like he was doing well for himself. But now his idiot son Rudy ran the place. Tommy’s picture was still on dusty display, toothy smile and all at the front door that people huddled in and out of—speaking of.
Your head lifted to attention as the bell above the door chimed, sighing in annoyance as you leaned back onto the counter. It was just Frankie.
“It’s fifteen after. You were supposed to be here on time today because we have to set up for Carla’s thing.”
Frankie breezed past you, aviators and stupid ballcap on, his smile lifted in a sneer. He was smacking on pink bubble gum as he neared your part of the counter and purposely shuffled past you with his hips against yours in an attempt to get into the kitchen. You couldn’t help but lean into him with a little smirk.
“Tommy said it was fine I was late.” He joked once he ducked into the back, your arms crossed as you followed him aimlessly.
You sigh and lean back against the locker next to his, watching him shuffle off his jacket.
“You disappoint me, Frankie.” Your face held a teasing pout.
���Never meet your heroes, baby.” That stupid fucking cocky smirk painted his face.
You opted to roll your eyes and look away as a defense tactic against Frankie’s flirty moves. Frankie calling you baby made your guts twist.
He was an ass ninety-nine percent of the time, but you two were hired the same summer a few years back and were the only ones who stayed once summer had run its course. You supposed it was bonded trauma after that.
New workers had come and gone, but you and Frankie were still at Tommy’s, still working crappy shifts on crappy hourly pay. Despite Frankie being a douchebag, he made the place bearable. He was comfortable. You knew each other.
“Can you just meet me on the floor like you were supposed to fifteen minutes ago and help with the banner? Carla’s going to be here at five, and you still have to make her special-”
“Jesus fuckin’- yes, I’ll be out in a few.” Frankie playfully groaned, shoving the brim of his hat into his mouth to hold it, his hands busy as he tied a tattered red bandana around his forehead before he replaced the cap back on. Okay… hot.
He took a deep breath once he finished, and leaned against the locker beside you, arms crossed, mimicking you as your shoulder brushed his bicep. You looked up at him, so many inches taller than you, as he looked down. Maybe too far down. He started at your eyes, but those eyes of his tended to wander right down to the cut of your shirt.
“Ugh- Frankie!” You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, readjusting your top as he playfully threw his hands up on the defense.
“You look fuckin’ gorgeous today, by the way!” He shouted as you exited the locker room, smiling and shaking your head with your back to him and throwing up your middle finger before the door swung closed with your exit.
---
You stood on the top of a dining table in your sneakers, attempting to hang a shitty banner you had painted for Carla’s birthday. You glanced down at the table and made a little face about the scuff you put in it. Oops. You can try and scrub it later.
There was no other person you or Frankie would do this stuff for. But it was Carla’s birthday and she was a diamond in the rough at this dump.
Carla's position at Tumbleweed is a mixture of human resources, accounting, decent management, and a mother figure to not just you but the entire staff. Besides Carla, we could all care less about everyone else's birthday. You were burning this ‘Happy Birthday!’ banner as soon as the clock struck midnight.
You let out an exhausted huff as you attempted to tack the final hanging string into the wall, but it was just out of reach. That’s when you heard the smacking of his stupid pink bubble gum. You didn’t even have to look.
“Are you gonna help me or not, Morales?” Your voice seethed in annoyance, not only to Frankie but also cursing your short legs and your just not long enough arms.
He didn’t say anything. Just crossed the differential space between you and took the tack and string into his meaty fingers.
You glanced down, watching his teeth capture his lower lip in concentration, checking to see if it was straight. Pushing the pin in, he backed up to where you stood on the dining table and crossed his arms in observance.
It was incredibly crooked. But it was the thought that counts, right?
“Good enough for me. You?” You glanced down at Frankie, and he was biting back a smile.
“What?” You pushed, narrowing your eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s good.” Distracted by something else. “D’you paint this?” The warmth of his hand slowly crept onto the back of your calf, your chest tightening as he slowly skated it higher with no interference from you.
You gently nod, avoiding his eye contact as you look at the sign. Now, his hand was on the back of your thigh, and you had to take a breath. A mhm was all you could muster up.
His fingers delicately skimmed the skirt of your uniform, knuckles brushing against your backside. You used to hate these 50’s style waitress uniforms, but now they didn’t seem so damn bad because Frankie’s movements were making you lightheaded. Snap out of it!
“Need help down?” Frankie asked, hand at the ready on your hip.
You shook your head despite using his assistance anyway. You squatted on the table, black lace panties peeking out as you used Frankie’s broad shoulders as leverage. You put one foot down onto the linoleum and then the other, wiping your hands cleanly down your uniform as you both returned to look at the lopsided sign.
You hoped it was enough. You hoped she appreciated it, especially all that she’s done for you over the years. Covering your shifts, leveling out the register when you accidentally gave someone the wrong change, tucking extra tips into your apron when she knew your rent was coming up. Everyone needed a Carla, not everyone was lucky to have one.
“She’s gonna love it,” Frankie seemed to sense your nerves as he lifted his cap to bring some air to his sweaty dark curls before putting it back into place. “I’ll start workin’ on her special. Mushroom Swiss patty melt?” He said before disappearing into the kitchen again, only leaving once you gave him your little nod of assurance. You liked that he remembered.
---
“Happy birthday, Carla!” Uncoordinated voices cheered as Carla entered Tumbleweed right on time for her shift.
Her face lit up, and she looked beautiful. She packed a little extra blush and eyeshadow to commemorate the special occasion.
“Oh, shit- oh my- You guys! Thank you!” Carla made special eye contact with you, knowing you were the only one caring enough to orchestrate this shindig.
Carla has this soulful charm about her. Raised in Louisiana, she loved to cook family recipes and bring the leftovers to work for you and Frankie to fight over. You remember she had three kids at home, so she had this curvy mom's body that put a proud sway in her walk. A playful and confident woman at heart, she was all the regular’s favorite to see. And she knew everyone. And she knew everything. She put Tommy’s back in business during the slower seasons. People would come to see her face on Sunday mornings over their coffee and runny eggs.
“Oh, baby, thank you.” She cooed as she cupped your cheek and squeezed, making your face tick. “This the red velvet?” Her voice hummed as she observed the cake in your hands, pushing her finger lightly into the frosting to taste it.
You had pulled one of the cakes from the display case and shitily piped it with chocolate sauce ‘HBD!’.
“Of course, your favorite... Right?” You pursed your lips and snuck a nervous glance at Frankie before you set the cake down on the countertop.
Carla looked beyond touched for something you’d consider a bit lackluster. “It’s my favorite ‘cause you made it. Thank you, baby.”
You glanced around for the cake cutter, watching as Tina pushed a quarter into the jukebox and got the party started. Everyone was doing shitty dance moves, even the one or two customers that had filtered in for a cheap dinner.
You sighed as you looked behind the counter for the cake cutter, grabbing the cake and its stand to haul it to the back.
You thrust your shoulder blades into the swinging door, setting the cake stand on the counter as you started sifting through the different drawers to find the serving knife.
Half a carton filled with cigarettes; Frankie’s. Matches from an old jazzy gentleman’s club; Rudy’s. Hair ties; yours. Where’s the fuckin’ cake cutter?!
The music from the jukebox was more faded in the kitchen. The serving window, professionally called the pass, was just big enough to see faces and hand plates through from the kitchen to the front.
You made a face when you found the cake server inside a large pot-- how, no, why? Jesus Christ. Fucking idiots.
The swinging door to the kitchen wooshed in before slowly creaking closed, seeing Frankie coming to stand beside you in your peripheral.
You carefully plunged the slicer into the soft sponge of the cake, carving a piece for Carla and setting it on a plate. You reached forward across the counter for another small plate, the short skirt of your uniform revealing the curve of your ass to an overly curious Frankie. You could feel his heat burning through his chest.
“Could you be less obvious?” Your voice held teasing notes, putting another piece of cake on a plate and pushing them away to make space for more.
He had tried this a handful of times with you, and he had yet to be successful besides that one time when you both drunkenly made out at the last December holiday party. You were pretty sure he had been hung up on you ever since. You enjoyed watching him try.
Your eyes flitted over to his, observing his body and facial features.
He looked gross, honestly. The two meals he cooked including Carla’s special before she came in for her shift made his face and neck sweaty and his hands greasy, his apron to match. It was white at one time, a long, long time ago. His stupid red bandana was still tied around his forehead, catching the spare sweat droplets, as the kitchen became unbearably hot in the middle of August.
You probably didn’t look much better. Hair all over the place with makeup you put on in the morning probably half smudged off by now. Your hands were checkered in pen ink, a spare papercut from snagging a receipt from the register. But still decent. He was still decent.
His hand was back in dangerous territory, lingering low on your waist. He didn’t care if anyone saw him. You could feel warmth flooding your body, heat from the heart of his hand burning into your hip. He was admiring your body, slow and appreciative as he cupped the curve of your ass. And then he squeezed.
Your shaky hands barely got the fourth slice you cut onto a small serving plate. The cake cutter clattered onto the metal counter as Frankie shifted his body behind yours, his watchful eyes on the pass. No one was watching, stupid and oblivious. You swallowed a lump down your throat, your small hands clenching the rim of the counter. His hips were flushed against yours. Worst of all was that you really fucking liked it.
“This okay?” You’re flattered he asked after the fact.
You leaned back into his touch, quietly humming on the brink of a little moan. You were a little desperate for touch, maybe you’d be on your period soon. “Mhmm..”.
Frankie was a douchebag, but you two have been flirting back and forth with one another for years like an ongoing tennis match. He was older, he had years on you. Not an obscenely amount, but enough to make people raise an eyebrow. You were surprised he had the balls to actually make a move on you like he was right now.
“Like you in black.” Frankie’s voice was cut down to a murmur, low and all-enveloping. You weren’t sure if he was referring to the black in your waitress uniform or your black panties. Probably the latter.
His fingers brushed past your goosebump-covered ass and slipped between your legs to your clothed pussy. You softly gasped, eyes shifting closed as your hips involuntarily leaned into Frankie’s touch. You didn’t look subtle at all. You looked like you wanted to be touched, manhandled, kissed, fucked…
“Open your eyes, baby girl.” He purred, your chest already heaving. “Act normal.” You forced your eyes open, looking back at him with wide, innocent eyes. Needy pupils connected with his blown-out ones. The back of your head brushed his shoulder, setting it there for just a moment before he looked straight ahead.
Frankie nodded back to the pass, your eyes following his eye line to everyone distractedly dancing and sipping coffee mixed with bourbon on the floor.
You bit down on your lower lip, knuckles cast over in a milky white with the iron grip you held on the metal rim of the counter. Frankie’s body heat had disappeared from your back, and now you felt it cast against the back of your legs. You glanced around, seeing him on his knees behind you with his mouth now latched to the back of your thighs. Oh, fuck. His kisses sponged up higher, towards your heat.
Your eyelashes fluttered, Frankie’s act normal echoing through your hollow head. With distracted hands, you resumed cutting the cake. You probably looked slow and stupid, but feeling his patchy beard hair nestle between the sweet skin of your inner thighs had you in a haze.
Frankie’s big hands reached under your skirt, lining the black panties that sat snugly on your hips with his forefingers. He slowly peeled them down, feeling the material roll as he stopped them to rest halfway down on your thighs.
Your shoulders shuddered as your warm pussy met the slight chill of the outside world, panties adorning a little soaked spot.
“Frankie,” Mm? “Someone’s gonna see.” But you weren’t stopping him. You weren’t telling him to fuck off. You weren’t kicking him right in the gut like you probably could. In fact, you were leaning into him.
“Such a pretty pussy... Can’t stop, baby.”
A helpless whimper left your lips, thighs shaking at his affectionate, warm kisses.
Frankie’s hand swatted at the inside of your right ankle and then the other, hinting for you to spread yourself for him. You pursed your lips and shakily sighed, parting your legs as your sneakers lightly squeaked on the checkered floor. Fuck me, Frankie.
You didn’t know how much longer you could be patient. The waiting was tantric, hypnotizing you into seduction.
Spread for him and dripping, Frankie’s mouth finally attached to your slit. Your knee lightly jerked up and smacked a bus tub filled with dirty dishes, a few eyes on you through the pass as you nervously laughed. “S-Sorry!”
Frankie couldn’t help but let out a warm puff of laughter against your cunt, and you swore your insides were twisting at the sensation.
“Easy pretty girl… Don’t need us gettin’ caught. You want me to stop?” Frankie’s voice was husky, warm palms spreading your thighs, your body lightly bending over to lean on the counter. You tried to look busy with something, stupidly polishing a random fork. With the extra exposure, he had full access to your sex.
“Does it look like I want you to stop?” You finally punched out through air-abducted lungs, anxiously chewing on the skin of your lip. “Frankie.” You said in a hushed warning tone, wanting more and not knowing how to ask nicely for it. But that’s what he liked about you. You weren’t nice.
His lips finally attached properly to your pussy, his devilish tongue lining the center of your cunt and flicking off your clit. Your head dropped, ears ringing at the sensation.
You wondered how good he would feel if he could take his time instead of giving you head quick while all your coworkers were distracted. Maybe he could run his thumb over the front of your panties, trace the seam of your pussy, and feel how soaked you were for him and his attentive fingers. You thought Frankie had always been so down bad for you. He probably dreamed about getting this opportunity. He finally got you when you were just as horny for someone with a pulse. But this wasn’t all the time in the world; this was a slow shift at Tommy’s.
You rut your hips back into Frankie’s face, hot pants fanning fog onto the cool metal of the counter.
Frankie put his mouth where you needed him most, his tongue dedicating a poem to you. He flattened his tongue and licked a wide, wet strip up through your core, taking in all your juices. His tongue lapped at your weeping hole, thighs shaking against his head as you stifled a moan into the counter.
He was good, manipulative, a fucking menace.
Frankie’s tongue made precision flicks against your bundle of nerves, a gasp a bit too loud leaving the kitchen as you whimpered broken fragments of his name.
You weakly looked up, seeing Tina pluck another quarter in the jukebox, cranking the volume to some seventies soul music. Fuck being quiet.
Concealed by the groove of Stevie Wonder singing We Can Work It Out, your moans were hidden by the shake of a tambourine and plucks to an electric guitar.
“Goddammit, Frankie, mmm, so fucking good,” a gasp and a moan followed suit, lazily smirking with your eyes closed. “So fucking… hot.” You murmured.
Frankie’s mouth was a welcome wonder, dedicated to making you cum. He was swirling his tongue around your clit, weakly flattening your front over the counter again and pressing your cheek against the cool metal. Don’t be a douche right now, Francisco Morales. Make me fuckin’ cum.
The kitchen door swiftly swung open, and your body flew up to stand straight as Carla waited in the doorway.
“What’s taking you so long to cut my cake, baby? I know that bitch is stale as hell, but that don’t mean I don’t want it.”
Your eyes were wide, lips parted in an attempt to speak, but Frankie’s movements didn’t cease despite Carla’s unexpected intrusion. You bit back a whimper as he lined his tongue just barely into the tight entrance of your walls, his greedy fingers piercing into the flesh of your thighs to keep you spread. Thank god the counter covered your waist down.
“I-I’m sorry, I’ll be out in a sec.”
Carla looked you up and down, curious but ultimately not giving a damn. You could feel Frankie’s dirty smirk against your thighs.
“Alright... Hurry up. I’m tryna get my dessert.”
And with that, the door swished closed, and your back slumped at the relief.
Frankie’s unexpected voice made you jump lightly, his words echoing against you. “Gotta make ya finish fast, princess. Want my dessert, too.”
You whimpered but willed yourself to stand up straight and turn around to face him. He looked like a mess. Lust-filled black eyes and a cocky smirk to match. Your juices glistened on his lips and chin. Frankie would be incredibly hot if he knew how to keep his mouth shut.
“Taste as good as you look, princess.” Frankie stood up, tall and broad body making a white hot spot form in your stomach. Fuck, you couldn’t do this right now. Not right here.
He could tell. He took a few cautious steps away, you watched him carefully like a rattlesnake. He knew when not to push you and when to let you make the decisions. He also knew how to give you orders when you were too pussy fucked to think straight.
“Serve that cake and meet me out back.” He was looking over you, enjoying the few times you looked totally fucked like you did right now. He stepped back into your space and pulled your panties back into place, a sobby whimper leaving your lips as he gently cupped your aching mound with a smirk. “So fuckin’ needy, huh?”
“Fuck off.” You mumbled, fixing the bottom half of your uniform.
You watch as Frankie grabs the beer bottle you all used as a makeshift door prop and his half-carton of cigarettes you had brought out of a drawer in an attempt to find the cake cutter. He disappears out back into the alley. Shit, the cake.
You hurriedly sliced the remainder of the cake, placing a few stray candles into the slices. You lit them once you greeted the group waiting on the floor, singing a shitty rendition of Happy Birthday. Paul lights his cigarette from one of the candles, puffing smoke across the frosting.
The crowd hastily grabbed one of the small plates and a fork. Most of you only tried a bite or two. The cake had been in the display case for far too long.
---
Anxious and impatient, you slip into the back with everyone’s dirty dishes and sneak back into the kitchen. You do nothing more with them than chuck them into the sink for Lou to wash up at some point or another. Your eyes stare at the beer bottle keeping the back kitchen door ajar.
You take in a deep breath, leaving a shaky sigh before following Frankie out into the alley.
The air was warm, a welcome breeze passing over you. The alley was everyone’s hideaway, littered with crushed beer and soda cans, two large garbage dumpsters, and a large one for recycling. You could see the highway in the distance. The sun was setting, and the sky was turning purple and blue. You’d watch those cars drive right past your little town, paying no mind, probably off going to somewhere bigger and better. The only people from the highway who stopped to visit Tommy’s were people who didn’t know any better.
A flick of a lighter crackled, dividing your attention. Frankie was smoking his cigarette, his back leaning against the brick wall of the diner. He was trying not to smirk. Seeing you out here was way too much power for him. He took a drag, the end of his cigarette lighting up in a glowing orange haze before he pulled it from his mouth. The smoke he exhaled was taken by the breeze.
“Happy to see me?” His goading tone asked.
“No.” A challenge. A pause.
“So, you want me to go back inside?”
“No.” Another beat. A step closer to him, arms crossed. He’s smart enough to let his cigarette land on the ground.
“So, you want me to stay out here?”
Silence. Staring. Gauging each other’s reactions. Your tight jaw meets his cocky smirk. Too stubborn to ask meeting too stubborn to give without begging. Fuck.
Maybe it’s because you’re both desperate. Maybe because Frankie knows you. Knows you’re too stubborn to ask for him to fulfill your needs. Your inaction meets his unwillingness to waste another moment that he could be inside of you.
Stomping on his cigarette before closing the distance between you two, he envelopes you in a kiss that robs you of your breath. He tastes musky and bitter. The smoke that recently captured his lungs was hot on your lips.
Your heart was beating with excitement, happy to lose control for a moment as Frankie walked you blindly backward into the brick wall. Ouch.
Your tongues danced in a rhythmic motion, seducing you into letting him take the power as the kiss deepened. The flavor was subtle but distinct. The Marlboro’s held an acrid undertone, an unexpected layer of the kiss you sort of liked. If he tasted like spearmint gum, it might have turned you off.
It was like you were his cigarette now, breathing you in and clinging to you in addiction. It was his bad habit, but who were you to judge. You had a closet full of skeletons you weren’t open to anyone seeing. Maybe this was one of his.
His hands were a welcome guest, feeling his warm palms explore a body he had probably fantasized about.
“Don’t-- mm -- don’t have a lot of time, Francisco.” You teased for dominance, using his full name made him muster up a dirty chuckle.
You were ready to turn around and have him fuck you into the wall, but his hand snagged your wrist, and he stopped you. Confusion screwed into your face. Then his mouth muttered the most filthy thing you had heard yet from him.
“Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He muttered, your body slumping into his. Fuck it, you were Frankie Morales’ tonight.
Frankie guided you further from the backdoor, hearing voices enter the kitchen. Probably Paul and Lou to start working on closing chores. He took you behind the dumpsters and hiked up your dress. You decided to be useful and push your panties down. He rounded up the material that was tying you up at your ankles and shoved them into his pocket. You were not letting him keep those.
You pushed his apron aside, fingers fussing over his belt buckle. He watched, amused, unwilling to help. He liked seeing you so desperate for his cock. Unbuttoned. Unzippered. Black boxer trim peaking out now. You made slight eye contact with him before you shoved his pants and boxers down to his thighs. Your heart clenches at how girthy he was. Fuckkk, this was gonna feel good.
He didn’t take his apron off, merely shoved it to the side as it haphazardly swayed on his hip. He closed the distance between you again, a greedy kiss, a kiss to mark you with. You pulled away to spit into your hand, taking him by his base and squeezing.
Frankie’s eyes shuddered closed, his head dropping as you took his manhood in the small of your hand. He was.. more than a handful. He was so meaty, not even able to wrap your fist fully around him.
You purred out a little moan as you worked your hand over him, feeling him grow heavy in your hand as you lubed up his tip, slowly circling your thumb teasingly around the pulsing head.
“Enough.” He muttered. He didn’t like you toying with him.
Frankie hiked up your leg by the underside of your calf, hooking around his hip as you leaned your back against the cold brick wall. It wasn’t comfy, but when you fuck against a run-down diner, you don’t get many options.
Your chest shuddered as you felt his cock heavy against your folds, erect and brushing up against where you needed him most. He was running his hand up and down himself now. You watched as he put down another line of spit from his mouth to his cock before his knuckles shuffled up and down his shaft a few more times.
The sight made you reel your head back and stare up at the sky. As eager as you are, you’re worried about feeling how thick he is. He knows.
“M’gonna go real slow.” He punches out, setting his forehead down against yours, and you shakily nod. Please don’t fucking split me in two, Frankie Morales. You still have a shift to finish, after all. You’re thankful he at least acknowledges his girth. It’s sort of the elephant in the room.
You both look down at your centers, your dripping one and his angry, pink head meeting in unison. It’s sort of fucked up the way that you’re two horrible people. But you knew horrible people always seemed to find each other.
You wet your lips and bite down. Hard. You weren’t a fresh spring virgin, but this wasn’t any other half-decent dick.
You lay your head back against the wall as Frankie guides himself into your welcoming entrance. Your wetness lubes him up well, but he’s still large.
You clench your eyes close and smile. The pain is always pleasure. “Fuck,” you mutter, your head wanting to come back down and watch.
Frankie’s being gentle, an odd word you’d never describe him as. He’s grunting and impatient, but patient for you. He fills you up to the brim and your head is flooded with clouds. You’re in the sky, lightheaded, but so fucking horny.
His hips meeting yours are a gentle greeting, both of your lips brushing as you shared pants of desperation as well as relief. Your stomach was tight, recoiling with the pressure he was providing to the inside of your walls.
“God-
“Jesus-
“-fucking damn.”
“Christ.”
The two of you moaned in unison.
Your nails are piercing into his shirt, bunching around the tops of his shoulders. You move to grip his apron for some sort of control. There is none.
One of his hands is still supporting your leg wrapped around his hip, the other flattened against the brick wall beside your head. You took solace in his arm, resting your forehead against it weakly.
He was cocky for a reason. His length in inches was his amount of reasons.
“Fuck me.” You finally mustered up enough strength to demand. He shakes his head against yours.
“Give it a minute.” He mutters, barely coherent. You’re scrumptiously tight around him, and you know it. You both do.
“We don’t have a minute.” You feverishly bite back, attempting to shift your hips against his. He retaliates by planting his hips against you, fucking the final few inches of his dick into you as you both fell deeper into the wall.
A hot moan rolled off your tongue, hiding your face away in his forearm and shuddering your eyes closed. Frankie’s hand slipped from your leg, cupping the globe of your ass in his warm hand. He squeezed and it made you smile as he reeled his hips slowly back.
He grumbles something.
“What?” You asked with a dopey grin.
He pushes back inside you and wipes the smirk clear off your face.
“I said… you’re so fuckin’ impatient.” His voice was tattered with grunts, your tight little pussy making it hard for him to breath.
Now he was creating a rhythm, fucking you into the wall in steady thrusts. You were already feeling your insides tug eagerly in excitement, the hot pool he had created in your guts simmering to a boil.
“Mhmm, mhm, mhm,” you moaned in silent begs, moans you had to read between the lines to understand. Fuck me, fuck me harder, fuck you feel good, I-I can’t think of anything other than fuck! Fuck me, Frankie!
He filled you up to a brim you had yet to discover you had. His tip tickled your cervix with each snap of his hips. He was getting greedy, a little sloppy. You’d judge him on this short-lived fuck later, for now, it was perfectly timed to get back into work without anyone noticing.
Your eyes widened and met his murky brown ones as he moved the hand he had against the wall nudged between your thighs, circling your clit. It was messy at first, but he found what made you tick and adjusted. Now he was running tight circles around you, and you were finding it hard to stay silent.
“Feel so fuckin’ perfect for me.” He murmured, his lips ghosting over yours in a teasing motion. You actually wanted to taste him again, so you leaned into it, your tongue lining his mouth and tasting his old cigarette with a moan.
Now he was filling you up, no hesitancy in his hips as he snapped the full extent of his length into your cunt. Your head flew back against the orange and red brick, a fucked moan leaving your mouth. Neither of you cared. Frankie’s face was nuzzled against your jawline and neck, sloppy kisses tasting old perfume as the circles on your clit intensified your impending orgasm.
“F-Fuck, Frankie, shit, I’m gonna-” You gasped and closed your eyes, clutching your arms weakly around his shoulders and holding him to you. His body enveloped you like a shield protecting you from anything in your surroundings.
Your orgasm crashed over you, coursing through your body like a million volts of electricity as you whimpered and moaned into his neck. Your eyes were clamped closed, your walls clenching and fluttering around his sensitive cock.
His moans were heavenly, guttural and deep, a little shaky even as he puffed them into your neck and shoulder. His hips twitched against the inside of your thighs as he came undone inside of you. It felt like he was cumming for days, filling you up with white rope after white rope of his semen and painting your insides with only remnants of him.
You couldn’t think. You just focused on the distant sound of the highway, creating a bustling amount of white noise for you. You gently held his head to keep him close, your shaky hand winding into his hair as the two of you reconciled over your orgasms.
He was the first one to move. He slipped himself from you and gave you a few lazy kisses. Your stomach fluttered before you shook your head.
Stop it, Frankie.
‘M not doin’ anything.
Teasing smiles. Hands softening their holds on each other’s bodies. Fixing hair. Fixing undergarments.
He would have held onto your panties. He probably hoped you forgot about them. You tugged them from his pocket and attempted to slip into them with ease, but you ended up having to use the brick wall as a support to lean into.
You steadied his apron straight, and he pulled the skirt of your uniform down. Teamwork.
You don’t really talk, just clean yourselves up, nod, and dart back inside before anyone can really notice or give a damn that you were missing in action. You kept having to excuse yourself to the bathroom, feeling Frankie still seeping from you. It made your chest hot, an embarrassed smile on your face.
Fuck it. That’s what Plan B is for. Or you can just wait to see if you get your period in a few days time.
---
You and Frankie danced around one another during the closing shift. Carla went home and took the cake in a to-go container to give to her kids. It was shitty that she had to work on her birthday, but she said that getting to see your gorgeous face was a present of its own.
You tiredly yawned, seeing it was a few minutes past ten. You helped Tina even out the cash register, putting today’s earnings in an envelope, then putting it in the safe for Rudy to take to the bank at the end of the week.
“You sure you don’t mind cleaning up on your own?” Tina asked, giving her a tired smile and a soft shrug.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you Wednesday.” Despite her annoying singing, Tina wasn’t that bad. She gave you a big grin before she hopped off the stool and left out the front door. Lou and Paul had already left at the start of closing. You didn’t know if Frankie snuck out the back early.
You did a double take to the jukebox, watching Frankie flip his baseball hat backward and push a quarter into the machine. Your face softened, seeing him flip between the different records before landing on one.
Something by Fleetwood Mac started playing. You watched him reach up and untack your banner from the wall easily. You nodded softly before grabbing the spray bottle filled with disinfectant and began wiping down the counters, seats, and tables.
He walked up to you once you finished cleaning, handing you your folded-up banner. You twisted your lips in thought, rolling the banner around in your hands.
“Wanna help me burn this in the burn barrel out back?”
Frankie sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah. Fuck it. Got nothin’ better to do.”
---
With Frankie’s lighter, both of you watched with glassy eyes as the Happy Birthday! banner burnt to ashes. His face was lit up in orange and yellow hues. He haphazardly tried to lean into the flames with a cigarette dangling between his lips, a stupid laugh leaving you. He shrugged and put the cigarette behind his ear.
“Fuck it.” He huffed, both of your eyes transfixed on the fading flames.
There was a beat of silence.
Frankie’s eyes met yours. “We should do that again sometime.”
Half of your mouth quirked up into a smirk. “Do what?”
He cocked his head to the side in annoyance. “You know what.”
You shrugged and shoved your hands into your jacket pockets. The hum of the highway in the distance made you flashback to just a few hours ago with Frankie railing you against Tumbleweed. A black and purple-streaked night sky submerged the two of you, making you feel tiny. You sigh and shift on your feet, keeping your eyes on the flames that licked up the ay! in Birthday!
“Maybe.”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “Maybe?”
“Mhm.”
Frankie teetered on your half-ass decision. Even the notion of having an open door left for him to sneak in was enough to make him happy. “Okay. I’ll take a maybe.”
God, you were bluffing so hard. Maybe it wouldn’t be sooo bad to throw him a bone every once in a while.
Your fantasizing was cut short as ashes of the banner spewed up from the depths of the barrel and fluttered up into the air between you and Frankie, both of you taking a preemptive step away.
His lighter clicked again; he had to do it a few times before the end of his cigarette caught a flame. “I’ll see you when I see you.” He murmured. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was trying to walk you to your car, wanting to leave, but not until you started heading home, too.
He swung his body into the driver seat of his beaten-up pickup truck. You decided to follow suit, sliding into your car. You saw Tommy’s fade away from the rearview mirror in the distance. But the thoughts of Frankie between your legs, fucking you into oblivion, and begging to serve your aching center would sit with you until your next shift at Tumbleweed. Sorry. Tommy’s Diner.
---
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#frankie morales#pedro pascal#triple frontier#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#triple frontier fanfic#triple frontier fanfiction#frankie morales smut#catfish morales#francisco morales#joel miller#joel miller smut
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You Kissed the Clown? Part 1
(Notes: Hello new friends! I have found myself fallen under the spell of the flashy fool himself and felt compelled to create something for him.)
(EDIT: This was my first ever fic on Tumblr. It was only ever meant to be a one-shot and it turned into a 15 part series 🤦♀️. I have so appreciated each and every one of you liking, commenting and inboxing me about this series and others. Thank you so so much 🥹)
(S1:E2 OPLA timeline)
Upon waking, you found yourself in an unfamiliar environment. Stuffed into a small crate with your three travelling companions, your dark haired friend referred to as a “crew”, your senses were still groggy from the crimson powder exploded above your small rigging.
After your “Captain”, Luffy, disclosed to the group he had consumed the map to the grand line to “keep it in a safe place”, the crate opened to reveal a darkened space. Applause rang throughout the area and your eyes were drawn to a spotlight being placed on a man dressed as a white lion. Several circus-type performers littered the room and directed the large crowd to respond with prompts written on large white panels held by several members. You noticed the features of the crowd were bearing terrified expressions, crying streaks littering their cheeks and some crusted over wounds adorning their faces and bodies.
Through the small opening of the red and white tent, a displeased figure appeared out of the shadows. You were immediately mesmerised by the figure, brightly coloured facial paint adorning his cartoonish features, a large brim hat with blue tassels hung over the folded edge and a collection of mismatched stripes, spots, fur and feather upon his physique. He had a dangerous air around him, full of malice, ill-temperament and a small amount of desperation amongst his features.
The blue haired man immediately berated his companions, yelling at them for the wrong timing, the queue being off, the lighting contrasting over a lion-like man instead of his own features. You looked to your green-haired swordsman companion, making brief eye contact with him and quirking up your brow in question. He shook his head at you and nodded back to bring your attention to the scene playing before you.
You had no idea how you were among this ragtag trio of misfits, especially as piracy was never an occupation you fancied for yourself. You and those within your family line were skilled jewellers; antiquity restoration, appraisal and fine gold and silver smithery was your trade. You and your father were requested to appear before Captain Morgan and add a new gem encrusted embellishment to his recently acquired new head for his Axe-Hand.
You witnessed the fight that was brought out with Helmeppo and several other marines at the skilled hands of Roronoa Zoro. At that point, your father decided he was no longer going to be working with Captain Morgan; no payment was enough to continue working for a man that allowed his child to bully those lesser than him. You were given a choice then to find your own way in the world and bring attention to your own skilled crafts or to sail home with your father to return to work in the shop as a finery smith. Opting for the former of the two, you bid farewell to your father and found yourself upon the small rigging with three companions of whom you had grown fond of.
Bringing you away from your thoughts and tuning back into the conversation, your gaze fell to your orange-haired friend, Nami, as she attempted to bribe the blue-haired clown with a new crew member with untold abilities. Before you could stop her, she threw Luffy’s straw hat into the air and bolted for the opening of the large tent. Two members of the circus crew managed to drag her back to the group which she then berated the jester before you for destroying the town the tent was situated in. The conviction she held in her voice sounded quite intimidating, but the clown just laughed in response. He used a small knife to cut a piece of apple and place it into his mouth, while nonchalantly saying he didn’t destroy everything in the town – he allowed the townspeople to keep their hands to applaud his act.
You inhaled through your nose deeply and widened your eyes at his comment, breathing out slowly through your mouth while fixating your gaze onto his relaxed form. He continued to look over the four of you with a twinkling smile as he consumed his crisp apple before his gaze fell over you.
“You,” he began, pointing at you with the small knife in his hand, “you have been awfully quiet.” He gestured to the rest of the crew with the same knife, “that one threatened me,” he said pointing at Zoro, “that one attempted to bribe me,” he pointed the knife at Nami while sauntering over to the spot you were situated, next to Luffi and Zoro.
“Your Captain lays claim to what’s rightfully mine,” he continued while stalking your form. Your eyes leave his form to look to your companions.
“Don’t you look away from me!” he yelled suddenly at you, causing you to flinch in response. Your body began to tremble slightly at his demands, not used to threats of great violence being thrown at you at a whim. He almost danced over to your place on the ground, bringing his body within an uncomfortable proximity to your own. He made no effort to hide his gaze raking over your body from the hair on your head to the shoes adorning your feet.
Although he had a large nose that immediately drew your attention to it, you couldn’t help but to notice the hue of his irises hidden amongst white, red and blue paint. The intensity of his gaze was drawing you in like a moth to a flame. The hue was akin to several fine gemstones you worked with in your family’s smithery. Jade, sapphire, tourmaline and emerald being the first stones that sprung to your mind while gazing at the angry and menacing clown before you.
“And what would you do, hm?” he condescendingly smirked at you, “you’re no fighter, by the looks of you.”
You held his gaze, staring deeply into his mischievous teal eyes while searching your mind for a response to his pointed question. He placed the small knife into his breast-pocket within his long fur coat and stalked slowly over to you like an animal prowling over to their meal. You trailed your eyes over his form slowly, raking and sizing him up with a small amount of unbridled suggestion held behind your eyelids.
Unsure if what came over you was bravery, stupidity or something else entirely, you reached your right hand forward and swiftly grasped the mustard coloured cravat hanging tightly from his neck and pulled him into you with all of your strength and successfully closed the distance between your bodies.
He was right of course, you were no fighter. Your skills lay in appraising fine metals, gemstones and hand whittled crafts. You read books filled with fairytales, poetry and refrains whispered between lovers. With your occupation, an aura of charisma would often aid in sales; whether you were doing the buying or the selling. You were known far and wide in your homeland as someone with a small amount of flirtatious charm, which was why you were asked to aid your father in his journey to the “tight-pocket” Captain Morgan. You were to charm him as you did many others, swindling them out of their apprehensions and bringing more berry to the till of your family’s business.
A shocked whimper left the lips of the Genius Jester as you tenderly placed your own lips against his, bringing your left hand to his side and using it to bring his body flush against your own, cradling him into a tender embrace. Your eyes were closed as you deepened the kiss shared between you. You began using your lips to open his and caressing them slightly with your tongue.
You slowly felt him relax into your embrace as he placed one hand to the back of your head and the other hand wove itself around you, placing it to the small of your back. He almost gently laced his gloved hand into your hair and held you tightly against him. He released a stifled gasp into your mouth as the hand on your lower back squeezed slightly, pressing your bodies closer together. You released your right hand and moved it tenderly from his cravat to his jaw, feeling the slightly prickled skin beneath his painted face.
Not a word was uttered, silence engulfing the space. In this instance, nothing existed to either of you apart from the moment you were sharing with one another. The map? Gone from both of your minds as you held each other tenderly. You arched your back, pressing your chest further into him as you began lacing your fingers into the hair peaking out from the bottom of his broad hat. You snaked your left hand around his waist, beneath his fur coat and raked your fingertips over his skin, causing him to moan into your mouth and cradle you further into him.
You utilized your head to nudge his own head upward for you to deepen the kiss further. Trailing your hand from the hair under his hat down towards his neck and exploring his pectorals, you massaged down his body while holding him tightly and skillfully in this heated embrace. Your fingers began to explore the flesh of his back, lifting the material slightly to expose his flesh to your administrations.
He did not withhold any sounds from escaping his lips, as small groans released from his lips between kisses alerted you to how much he was truly enjoying your touch. You even allowed some gasps to escape your own lips as you continued to caress, massage and cradle him to yourself as he held you.
You were not foreign to the romantic touch of others by any means, but this kiss felt unlike anything you had experienced prior. You could almost feel his desire for affection as he hungrily held your body against him. Waves of loneliness escaped from his form and onto you as he began to be filled instead with your freely given affection, unlike the painted women he would pay berry for their time.
He groaned slightly and furrowed his brows together at the thought, releasing your lips from his own and holding you to him. His eyes bore into your own as your lips parted from one another, almost gazing into your very soul with the intensity he held.
Without warning, he pushed you from his body and swatted your hands from their position on his back. He turned to face away from you and brought his gaze to your captain before monologuing.
“Ok, here end the theatrics,” he began as the spot lights filter onto the four of you.
“I know one of you have my map, and I’m gonna get it back,” he said with malicious intent.
“What was it you said, rubber boy? That it was ‘in a safe place’?” he mocked with a small glint in his eye. Luffy looked to you in confusion.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised. I have eyes and ears everywhere,” he laughed. You trailed your eyes over his features, noticing the paint over his lips appeared more smudged than it had been moments prior. You then began to imagine how your face may appear after you shared the kiss with him moments prior.
“So,” he clapped his hands together and looked to his gang of circus members, “please make our guests uncomfortable in the green room.”
You felt hands clasp your wrists. You looked around to see a large man in a leotard grasping your form before you looked back to the clown. Your eyes met briefly once more, an unfamiliar emotion that could almost be described as a combination apprehension, longing and desire located in his eyes as your body was dragged to another location, this time without your captain amongst you.
You held little resistance as your body was escorted away. You looked to Luffy once more and attempted to reassure him with a nod as you walked briskly to be caged with your friends.
Nami was placed in a small cage suspended above the ground, whereas Zoro was bound to a large spinning wheel. As they were placed into these positions, their movements protesting and making it difficult for your captors to place them in these restricting positions; you held no such apprehension.
An aura of calm was coming from your form, confusing the large leotard-clad man. You placed your wrists together and held them out in front of you with a shrug and almost taunted him with how easy you were making this for him. His brows knit together in a puzzled fashion as he began to bind your hands in rope and tie you to a post away from your companions.
Once successfully restrained, the circus people left you with your thoughts as cries of laughter were echoing to the chamber that sounded like it was being pulled from the mouth of your captain.
“You kissed the clown?” uttered your green-haired, tri-sword wielding companion in a low accusatory tone, “why did you kiss the clown?”
You laughed slightly at the question, looking down at your bonds as you wiggled your hands against the tightly clasped rope, testing it for any sort of weakness amongst the restraint.
“I honestly can say I have no idea,” you smiled while pressing your knee against the post you were bound to with a small shove to assess its strength.
“It was incredibly stupid,” Nami commented from her enclosure, “if you were that touch-starved, I’m sure Zoro or Luffy wouldn’t have minded if you wanted to give them a little smooch.”
You turned your gaze over to Nami momentarily before rolling your eyes.
“Oh please,” you replied, “Zoro, I’m sure you are a wonderful kisser but unfortunately you don’t quite have what I’m looking for.”
He scoffed slightly at the comment while you moved your hands down to the hilt of your belt and began searching the folds of your skirts with your wrists.
“And if you don’t mind me asking, what does the dangerous clown-man have that Zoro doesn’t?” Nami asked with a teasing tone. Your wrists find the object within your belt and you smiled broadly, gripping it and bringing it to the light.
“Right now?” you said with a small twinkle in your eyes as you held the small object up to your new friends, "a knife."
For the first time in a while, the three of you shared a laugh before you all began to attempt an escape from the bonds of the green room.
Part 2
#buggy x you#buggy the clown x reader#one piece#one piece live action#opla#buggy#captain buggy#kiss#creative writing#you#buggy x reader#buggy x y/n#unnamed reader#y/n no name#original character#buggy x female reader#buggy x kiss#x reader
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Happy valentine's day! Could we have more female Naruto?
a continuation of 1 2 3
Naruto clocks Gaara the moment she sees him.
She keeps her smile wide and stance easy, putting her hands on her hips and squinting at the Sand kids. Sasuke and Sakura shift uneasily before deliberately relaxing, picking up on her attitude even if they don’t know why. “My dad told me about you guys! We should stick together, being the kids of kages and all.”
Her father had told her to be wary but hadn’t told her why. She has to believe he doesn’t know. The other option is that he somehow thought that she wouldn’t notice.
“You must be Naruto,” Temari says with a false friendliness that Naruto might not have been able to pick up on if she hadn’t spent her whole life with people loving her or hating her and having a disturbing habit of masking one as the other. “These are my brothers, Kankuro and Gaara. Are these your teammates?”
As if her father hadn’t warned her about the hosting kage’s kid. “Yeah, Sasuke Uchiha and Sakura Haruno.”
Neither of those names garner any reaction, but they wouldn’t. Sasuke’s status as Uchiha is obvious at first look and Sakura comes from a civilian family.
“Hi,” Kankuro says shortly.
Gaara says nothing at all, looking at them with those wide, empty eyes.
They’re going to be a problem. He’s going to be a problem.
~
Naruto knows better than to go to her father with anything important and if she tells her mother then she’ll try and pull her from the chunin exams, which is the last thing any of them needs.
She hates how often she ends up crawling back to her ex-fiance for help.
“Naruto-hime,” Kakashi greets, unruffled at her vaulting in through his window and landing on his counter in a perch.
This place is so depressing. She gets why her mom wants to put in some wallpaper or something so badly, but Kushina is still mad at Kakashi for weaseling out of their engagement, so she just grumbles and complains but won’t do anything about it.
“You’re proctoring the second part of the exam,” she says. The format of the exam is supposed to be secret, but it’s not like that’s ever stopped her from breaking into her father’s office. “I need you to rig the fight.”
He raises his eyebrow. Or maybe he’s raising both of them, but she can’t see under the headband. “That’s cheating.”
“Cheating’s allowed,” she counters. “I need you to make sure I face Gaara.”
He blinks slowly. Or winks. “Your father will kill me.”
“It’s supposed to be random,” she says. “How will he know?”
His silence takes on a decidedly guilty air.
“He told you to make sure I didn’t face him,” she guesses, not bothering to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
“He’s worried about you,” Kakashi says.
Too little too late as far as she’s concerned. As if his worry has ever done her any good. As if his worry has ever done anything but get in her way, just like it is right now. “Fine. Make sure he faces Sasuke then.”
“There are easier ways to get out of an engagement,” he says. “You don’t need to arrange to have him killed.”
Her eyes narrow and it takes everything in her not to growl. Growling is one of those things she’s not allowed to do because it’s too much of a tell. “I suppose you’re the expert on that.”
Kakashi doesn’t say anything. He’s spent her whole life not saying anything and it never gets less infuriating.
“Just do it,” she says. “What do you care anyway?”
Naruto is halfway out his window when he says, “I care,” and he can’t see her so she doesn’t bother to hold back her eyeroll.
That’s never done her any good either.
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Lilly: Good morning New Babel, you're listening to Screw Loose, your favorite early-morning exo rig and rig maintenance rig show this side of the white river, I'm Lilly.
The Bear: And I'm the Bear, and you- are on the air. What can we help you with?
Caller: Howdy girls! Togen, from the South Teykile. I've got a bit of a mystery for ya, I was hoping you could help me solve it.
Lilly: Oh lovely! I think we're ready to sleuth.
The Bear: What the problem doll?
Togen: So I'm a boatwright. About a month ago, I'm on the job in a Wylan Mastiff UD-940. I'm lifting a panel of ship-chitin that weighs maybe 1000 kilograms, and I can feel the exhaust channels getting hot.
The Bear: Uh oh.
Lilly: Uh oh indeed.
Togen: I figure I'm overcycling, but the Mastiff can pull 1000kg easy right? So I put down the panel, and suddenly, BOOM! Radiator explodes right out of the chassis! I can hear the I-bolts ping against field tech's facemask!
[Both hosts begin to laugh]
Lilly: Huh!?
The Bear: Okay okay hold on a second-
Togen: I've got an insulated undersuit, but the radiator is just full-on burning at this point. Now, I'm not about to jump into the Occimedian with my rig on, so I slam the emergency kill. So now I'm lyin there, facefirst on the dock, hollerin for the other idiots to put me out!
The Bear: You had an extinguisher right?
Lilly: Maybe someone had a drink?
Togen: Well...Okay so get this. The yard has an extinguisher. That's union. But before someone could grab it, one of the boys uh, relieves himself, on the radiator.
[The hosts are silent for a moment, but can't keep it going. Lilly snorts loudly as she laughs.]
Togen: Hey it worked! Problem is, the damn thing hasn't been running right ever since. I replaced the radiator that evening, but for some reason I'm only getting about 70, 80 percent torque when I lift, but its only from certain positions. I've taken the thing to two different shops at this point, and they both said that everything looked fine. I’m at the end of my rope here ladies, can you help me?
Lilly: Sleuthing hats on!
The Bear: Well sir, I think I know what your problem is. You set yourself on fire, and then someone pissed on you.
Lilly: Yeah! Just tell the boys at your local rig shop, they'll know what to do.
[The hosts pause for a moment, deliberating]
The Bear: Well damn Togen, you've given us two mysteries for the price of one.
Lilly: First, we gotta figure out why your radiator exploded. Then, we gotta figure out why your lift capacity is damaged. Okay, replacing the radiator was the right call, did you have them look at the recycler?
Togen: Yeah, when the first guy said it was fine, I took it to the second shop, and they said the recycler was probably running cold in the early morning air, you know, building up heat in the radiator.
[lilly scoffs]
The Bear: That guy didn’t know what he was talking about. The recycler generates a ton of heat. While your rig is live, they’re actually floating in coolant because they generate so much heat.
Lilly: Hmmm. Did you have any custom work on the Mastiff before it exploded?
Togen: Yeah. Lets see…I had the 8-cell replaced with a 10-cell, added a fluid circulator, and full weatherizing. Tubes, seals, soles, the works.
The Bear: The weatherizing, synthetic or biosynthetic?
Togen: Biosynthetic ma’am.
The Bear: Here’s what I think happened. Whoever shopped your rig under-tightened the bolts, and used overripe sealant. See, the biosynth sealant that Wylan uses is self-repairing, and it feeds on heat. I bet that when they replaced your power supply, they left a gap, so the sealant started growing into your radiator channel, sealed it up like a pressure cooker and BOOM.
Lilly: Okay love, when you try squatting to pick something up in the rig, is there chugging from the leg hydraulics? Or is it more like the force just hits a wall at 70%?
Togen: There’s definitely chugging.
The Bear: Have you checked the tubing rings? You might’ve vented some heat onto them during the explosion, caused a hairline breach?
Lilly: Bearie dear I have a hunch. If he burned the rings he’d know. They’d pop right out as soon as he tried to squat. Follow me here.
The Bear: Uh oh.
Lilly: [starting to laugh] No! Listen! Okay you said you added a fluid circulator right?
Togen: Yes ma’am.
Lilly: Listen! Okay! Love! Here’s what I think happened! So urine has both salt and uric acid in it right? Both corrosive substances. I’d bet my bonnet that when you hit your kill switch, it took a moment or two for the circulator to spin down. There was probably already some urine in your radiator. That urine had enough time to get circulated into your hydraulics, where it’s been sitting, corroding your internal glide sheathes.
The Bear: [laughing] Oh my lord that has to be it. Yes. Yes! That has to be it! Here’s what you’re gonna do, doll. You’re gonna take it to the local garage. You’re ask them for a total flush. Your biosynthetics should heal within a week.
Lilly: And while you’re there, have them check the I-bolts on the new radiator chassis!
The Bear: How’s that sound doll?
Togen: Well gosh ladies, I’m gonna be honest. The boys at the shop yard have a betting pool on just what was wrong with the rig, and I think all of us might owe the two of you some money. Thank you so much!
[The hosts laugh]
The Bear: Good luck doll!
Lilly: Thanks for your call!
[The show transitions to commercial]
(If you want to read the full novel in this universe, Amber Skies is linked in my pinned post)
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Falling Concrete
Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 1.2K
Summary: Based off the prompt "Don't go where I can't follow. . . I thought I lost you." requested by anon.
Warnings: angst, happy ending kinda?, that's really it lol
A/N: this is unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own. I know it's not fantastic lol but i just wanted it done
The wind from outside whipped against your face as you stood with the quinjet door open, the jet hovering over the collapsing building.
Your breath was stuck in your chest, your throat clenched tight as your watering eyes remained locked on the crumbling structure.
You'd just been in there on a mission, sent to retrieve anything of value left behind by a small HYDRA group that remained just out of your team's grasp. You had been sent in with Bucky while Natasha waited in the jet for a quick escape.
She'd recently injured herself on another mission and was on strict "flying the jet only" orders. They were really bed rest orders, but she'd convinced the higher ups to at least let her be your escort to and from missions.
You'd been in the building, about a third of the way through clearing it when a large boom set your ears ringing as the ground shook, knocking you off your feet.
Coming to the conclusion that the building had been rigged to self destruct, you and Bucky had bolted back the way you entered, racing against time as it began to fall apart.
He must've seen it before you, the chunk of concrete wall that was bound to block the way out. You remembered hands colliding with your back. Hands who'd never shown you anything but gentle kindness, shoving you so hard the air had been knocked from your lungs, leaving you stunned as you fell out of the building and rolled along the dirt.
It took only a second for you to whip your head back around to see the doorway blocked and you crawled your way over and up back to your feet as you called for Bucky on your ear piece, only getting static in return.
Nat's worried voice filled your ear, asking what happened, that she'd felt the shaking and was headed your way, but you ignored her. Your eyes were scanning the surface of the building as fast as they could, searching for any crack in that building to see through. To try and see Bucky.
You eventually saw what looked like movement through the smallest crack in the wall and you rushed to it, again calling his name.
It was only a moment, but it felt like eons as you waited to hear a response. But suddenly, the timbre of his voice flowed from the crack.
"Are you okay?" He asked, as if he wasn't the one stuck.
"I'm fine, but don't you ever do that again." You'd demanded. "We need to get you out, and fast."
"I know the layout, I studied the schematics of the facility before we got here," His voice called, "There's another exit around the southwest end of the structure. I can make it."
A dark sense of dread wrapped around your heart and you wanted to argue with him, but there was no other choice and no time. The building was unstable, and he needed to get moving. Now.
"Go," You ordered, "I'll get Nat over there with the jet, we'll meet you there."
You heard him shuffle, as if he was hesitating, before the scuffle of his feet grew quieter and you relayed the information to Natasha who met you at the southwest exit Bucky had mentioned.
That's where you now waited, every second passing feeding that sense of dread in your chest until all you could do was think about it.
Ever since you two had been paired together on your first mission with SHIELD, you'd never been separated. You stuck by each other's sides, never leaving the room without the other, back to back even in certain situations. There wasn't one mission where you split up.
Until now. And it didn't feel right. Something was wrong.
You would go back in, scour the place until you either found Bucky or died trying, but there was a reason that Natasha kept the jet in the air. She knew you too well. So you watched in agonizing silence as you waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The last of the building was falling, quickly racing for that door and you swear your heart stopped as your grip on the hand hold tightened until your knuckles were white and your hand went numb.
Suddenly, the door burst open, a familiar form clad in black tumbling out, rolling back on his feet and running from the building. Only when he was far enough from the building to have absolutely no chance of being injured did your body allow you to breathe.
Nat brought the jet to him, hovering over the ground as he jumped in before she took off back towards New York.
He laid on the ground at your feet, your wide eyes locked on him as he heaved, his brow shining in sweat.
"Told you I could make it," he panted with a half smile. You heard Nat mutter his name, and watched as his head tilted up to see her. The grin was instantly wiped from his face as his attention turned back to you.
His brows furrowed as he sat up, reaching for your hand that hung limp at your side.
"Hey," he whispered, "Talk to me, what's wrong?" His eyes did a quick scan of your rigid stance before returning to your eyes, "Are you hurt?"
You felt the warmth of tears sliding down your cheeks, your hand aching as you continued to grip the hand hold, even though the door was closed now - it was the only thing holding you up. You noticed the panic rise in Bucky as he moved to kneel in front of you, his eyes darting around your face.
"Hey, hey, hey," He rushed, "Smartie, what's wrong?"
The nickname was your doom, all the air rushed from your lungs in a wet sob and your hand gave out, your knees hitting the floor as he did his best to catch you.
You'd been so close to never hearing him call you that again. To never touching him or hearing him or smelling him. To never seeing him. The weight of all of it crushed your chest as your hands pushed and gripped his shoulders, your own body not knowing whether to hold him close or push him away.
"What were you thinking?" You wetly demanded, your vision blurry from your tears, but he was clear. He always would be. "Why would you do that?"
Of course he knew what you were talking about as his eyes softened. Hell, he probably expected you to bring it up later, but not so soon. "You were going to get crushed. I had to make sure you got out."
"Not at the expense of you," You ground out through gritted teeth, "Never at the expense of you."
His eyes softened before he pulled you in, folding your fighting arms against his chest and tucking your head under his chin.
Your fingers gripped his kevlar suit, gripping it tight as you muttered to him, "Don't you ever go where I can't follow." You pulled back, looking up at him and seeing his eyes welling with tears, "I thought I lost you."
"You didn't lose me," He whispered, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
As always, thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are all very much appreciated.
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#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#avenger!bucky x avenger!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x fem!reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes angst#bucky fanfic#marvel fanfic#fandoms-writings#remisneonparty
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Nevermore Chapter 97
Spoilers ahead, lads. Skedaddle if you don't fast pass. EDIT I guess I’ve said too much in this post and need to pull it back a little. So imma gonna edit it so it doesn’t say too much about this chapter.
Alright, first my reaction cause HOLY HELL those last few panels really got me like
I really had to put my phone down and talk myself through them.
Now, lets talk about what I gained from this chapter and the infamous Annabel Lee.
I've noticed, at least in the comment section, the fandom really doesn't care for Annabel's character and its difficult to know where the animosity has come from. Tumblr obviously loves her but us heathens support women's rights and wrongs (Don't we gents?)
Many call her a sociopath or what’s happens in the last few panels. Annabel is indeed ruthless, calculating and stone cold but she obviously cares. She cares for Lenore above everything.
It can be easy to see this as obsession as we really haven't seen her care about much else or even herself. But one comment on the Webtoon brought up a very valid point which I've also picked up on.
Annabel and Lenore in life were very isolated and broken people when they met one another. Annabel, broken and then rebuilt into a prim and proper lady. Lenore, broken physically and mentally and closed off from the world.
Meeting each other saved them. They were no longer alone. There was an understanding between them at least that we know of.
Their differences though is what divides them in death.
Annabel played games, and masked her true self around her father and family connections. She now makes games of situations to retain what little control she had in life over a society she knew she could never break the rules of. A Game that was always rigged against her.
Lenore rebelled against society. She fled the estate to escape a suitor, was bound to the attic and ostracized by her family, she then faked her death and posed as man to court Annabel, the one person who cared for her.
Lenore wants to break the rules of the deans Death Game. Annabel wants to follow them.
It’s all they’ve ever known.
Before it was only them that mattered. Now Lenore has so much more to fight for and Annabel still only has Lenore. Both are right in their own way of playing the game but it pains the other to witness.
Annabel, I’m sure is aware that the Deans are not all they seem to be and won’t simply allow the students to turn the tables on them if they played how Lenore wants to.
And playing Annabel’s way means the callous death of many many people that do deserve another chance at life.
Now. I do have to agree with Annabel in the sense that Lenore forgets
This is a Death Game
Right now the “villainous” characters show their true face with pride and the “hero’s” are charming and true but as we get down to the wire, it’s going to get grey. There are no good or bad at the end of these games, only survival.
Could Annabel show some restraint and more tact when speaking strategy and making plans with Lenore? Absolutely. She’s little too giddy about sweeping some pieces off the board.
Lenore also needs to stop being so naive. She saw first hand what exactly the Deans are capable of in Dreamland, it put the fear of god in her.
In fairness to both characters though they and we are still missing big pieces of what happened between them and what their causes of death were. Which could hold big aspects of their characterization.
Maybe Lenore was originally very callous about others. In life, aside from Theo and Annabel, we’ve never really seen her interact with others. Perhaps this is the Lenore Annabel speaks of.
Anyway, I’m rambling. In conclusion, I’m a bit disappointed in Nevermores comment section. I enjoy Annabel’s character although some parts do worry me a bit but I have hope Red and Flynn have plans to curve this to a satisfying reason and conclusion.
That cliffhanger, boy howdy, what the fuck is Lenore gonna do…
#nevermore webtoon#lenore vandernacht#annabel lee whitlock#white raven#duke#Pluto#nevermore webcomic#nevermore WEBTOON spoilers
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Butch trucker Sevika? 👁️👁️
sugar......... your mind.....
men and minors dni
she drives an 18 wheeler across the country. she loves the job. it's just her (with little slayer by her side) ((yes i'm bringing slayer into this i love that little imaginary dog)), and it's always quiet, just an audiobook playing in the background, and she gets to travel and see places she never would have before. she loves it.
you work at one of those mega gas station/ rest stops in the middle of nowhere. your job mainly consists of selling people various snacks from the convenience store or checking out shower stalls for various truckers that come through or re-stocking the spinning hotdog rollers.
sevika stops at your gas station one day to fill up and grab some chips for the long trip ahead of her.
when she sees you, she's starstruck.
she's absolutely silent at the register as you ring her up, just flabbergasted by you and your beauty.
you seem to barely notice her, exhausted at the end of your shift. sevika's grateful for this-- because she's absolutely mortified by her behavior. she's never been this flustered by a girl before.
but she makes it her life mission to get you to notice her.
any time she's even in your state, she makes a long detour to go see you at the gas station.
half the time she goes you aren't even there. she ends these trips cursing herself for being so stupid. but when you are there, she promises herself she won't stop visiting you at the gas station until you tell her to fuck off or she makes you hers.
she quickly becomes a familiar face for you.
you always smile when you see her, asking her how her route's going. she answers honestly, getting tiny giggles out of you when she starts cursing out stupid drivers and the rain.
you think she's fucking adorable. she'd hate it if she knew that's the first word that comes to mind when you think about her.
sure she's ripped and handsome and looks like she could fuck you for days at a time, but she's always stuttering and cursing and stealing glances at you from the aisles of the gas station.
sometimes, late at night she'll come in and stay for a bit, just watching you work, making sure nobody gives you trouble. you always notice. you think she's the sweetest woman you've ever met. (even though you haven't really met her)
one night she catches you after your shift, sitting on a bench outside of the gas station and having a smoke. she pauses on her way in-- not sure if she should act like she really comes here for snacks or just give up her act and talk to you.
she doesn't have to make a decision though, because you decide for her.
"hey." you say, giving her a friendly smile and a wave. she gulps.
"hi."
"long night?" you ask her. she clears her throat and nods.
"yeah. how about you?" she asks. you giggle and shrug.
"the snow's got everyone staying inside so it was pretty slow. good to see you though, i was wondering when you'd come around again." you say, giving her a sweet smile and fluttering your eyelashes at her.
sevika melts.
you offer to share your smoke with her and she takes you up on it. you guys sit on the bench for hours, chatting and giggling and getting to know one another.
at one point, sevika walks you to her rig to introduce you to little slayer. the dog absolutely loves you (she can tell her mama likes you so she's on her best behavior,) and you think little slayer curling up in sevika's big burly arms is about the cutest thing you've ever seen.
at some point, sevika's phone starts ringing-- she's running behind schedule for her shipment. she apologizes and waves goodbye to you, and as she goes, you call after her.
"come back soon!"
she grins the rest of her ride.
sevika finally works up the nerve to ask you out a few months later. you giggle when she does.
"don't you live like, ten hours away?" you ask. she shrugs.
"i could drive here, like in my car. or i could get a delivery here, spend a few days here before i gotta make another. up to you." she says. you giggle and agree.
but when the big day comes, a blizzard rolls through town. you text sevika asking if she'll be able to make it, but don't hear back. you spend your shift depressed and a little heartbroken, missing sevika and knowing you likely wont see her for another week or two.
but as you're wrapping yourself up in your layers getting ready to go home, sevika's rig comes pulling into the empty parking lot. you gasp.
sevika comes tumbling out of her truck, sprinting up to you with a wild look in her eye.
"you're still here!" she exclaims. you let out a disbelieving laugh.
"what are you doing here?!" you ask, wrapping sevika up in a hug. she's just in a wifepleaser and sweats-- she hadn't grabbed her coat before running out in the snow to greet you. she sighs against you.
"i'm sorry i missed your text. i had no signal with all the snow." she says, bashfully rubbing the back of her neck. you giggle.
"you're adorable." you say, shooting up to kiss her. sevika's shocked against you, sighing against your mouth and wrapping her arms around you.
you guys end up spending the night in her truck, talking over chips and sodas, watching the snow fall and cuddling together on the little twin bed in the back, slayer sleeping on top of you.
it becomes a pretty frequent occurrence, even without the snow.
sevika will come by to visit you while you're finishing up work, perfectly timing her mandatory 8 hour break so she can spend time with you.
sometimes you'll take her into town and show her around.
sometimes you guys just chat in her truck.
(sometimes you take her back to your place so you guys can fuck in a bigger bed.)
but eventually, you and sevika are going steady.
it's pretty hard, with only being able to see her once a week and the two of you living across the country from one another. but on your one year anniversary, sevika comes to visit you at work when you aren't expecting her.
she grins at the sight of you lighting up behind the counter, barely able to contain your excitement as you check out the guy in front of her. when it's her turn, you jump over the counter and into her arms.
"what're you doing here?!" you ask as you pepper her face with kisses. sevika giggles.
"i got a surprise for you." she says, shrugging. you pull away from her with a grin.
"well, show me!" you exclaim. sevika giggles as she presses a letter into your hands. the letterhead is from her company, and you furrow your brow as your eyes scan the text, then suddenly, you burst into tears.
sevika takes it the wrong way.
"i can reject it, you know." she says uncertainly. "i don't have to..."
it's a permission slip, allowing sevika to relocate her primary location to your town. you giggle at her words and wrap her up in a hug.
"don't you dare." you whimper against her. she melts in your arms, pressing kisses to your head. "will you move in with me?" you ask as you pull away. sevika grins.
"i was hoping you'd ask that. nobody's renting around here." she admits. you smile.
"my landlord doesn't like dogs, but slayer's not really a dog. she's like a fiesty gerbil." you say. sevika laughs.
"i'll just fight 'im if he gives us shit." she says. you grin.
there's a line forming behind sevika, and her truck is burning gas as it idles in the parking lot, but you don't care about either as you lean in to capture her lips in a kiss.
taglist!
@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian
#this is a very usa-core fic i'm sorry to my international readers ahhahaa#sevika#sevika imagine#sevika arcane#sevika x reader#sevika x you#soft sevika#sevika smut
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