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plant-flwrs · 3 years

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hi love, it's me again! i just can't get enough of your writing... i'm sorry to be asking for another fic, i guess i just can't help myself. lately i've been obsessed with the fake dating thing, so i was wondering if you could write a fred x reader (basically same reader as my last request, gryffindor, same year as ron) with that? like, maybe george knows they fancy each other and makes a bet with him so they start fake datig but realise they're in love with each other? aaa thank you so much, ly

bets off // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: i used the same pronouns from the last request, hope you don’t mind!! i apreciate u sm ur always so active w my fics ily <3333 this is the first thing i’ve written in a while that i’m actually proud of so i hope u guys like it :D

summary: Fred makes a bet with George that entails fake dating you for at least a month. He never expected to fall in love with you.

(5k)

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Competition was healthy. At least, that’s what Fred told himself as he looked at George’s outstretched hand, a cocky smile etching the boy’s lips.

“Two weeks?” Fred asked, looking suspiciously at George.

“Two. Weeks.” George answered definitively, smirking at his brother.

Fred considered this in his head. Two weeks to get you, someone who had never previously shown any romantic interest in him, to date him for at least a month. He doubted it would be hard, for he had never had any trouble getting girls to swoon for him in the past. A few winks and charming sentiments and you would be putty in his hand. With this air of confidence, he shook George’s hand.

“You idiot!” Lee, who had previously been silently watching the exchange, called from across the table, a baffled smile on his face.

George laughed, leaning back in his chair and looking at Fred like he agreed with Lee.

“What?” Fred asked, the overly confident look still littering his features.

“You can’t win with this one,” Lee explained, shaking his head, “you either piss off Ron when this goes right, you piss of Ron when this goes wrong, you come out the git for breaking a girls heart, or you come out the embarrassed git who was rejected by your kid brother’s best friend.”

“Hey,” Fred said, faking offence, “I never agreed to ask out Harry.”

George and Lee rolled their eyes, hiding smiles as they continued their homework.

Fred was not deterred by Lee’s warnings, for he had a plan to avoid all of that. He was simply going to tell you the truth.

He found you on your way to the green house, pulling you away from a Slytherin girl you were walking with.

“He just stared at her? Like he didn’t eve-” you felt an unexpected tugging, “Ah!”

You squealed, feeling your feet stumble under you for a moment as you gathered your wits again. You looked down at the hand pulling you, following it up to the face. It was Fred, which was odd, because you two were not known for pulling at each other in hallways.

“You’re going to miss Herbology!” your friend called out to you, a worried expression on her face.

“I’ll meet you there, save me a seat!” you called back to her, turning away and following Fred as he still dragged you.

“Fred? What are you doing?” you asked him, making no effort to move from his strong grip.

“Got to talk to you,” he said airily, barely looking back at you as he pulled you down an empty corridor.

He let go of your arm, smiling down at you as you waited for him to speak. He didn’t take the hint, just looking at you.

“What did you want?” you glanced at your watch, seeing you only had a few minutes before Professor Sprout would start class.

“I have a proposition for you,” Fred drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as per usual, “what do ya say?”

You squinted your eyes at him, frowning, “I have to hear the proposition first.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, thats how propositions work.”

“I hadn’t realized,” he replied sarcastically, dropping his cool demeanor and letting some desperation seep into his voice.

“What do you want?” you repeated, slightly more annoyed.

“I may have made a bet that heavily relies on your willingness to do me a huge favor,” he said, a hopeful smile coming to his face.

“Oh god, Fred, what did you do?”

“George may have implied that I was in a dry spell when it came to girls,” he said, smirking, “and obviously that’s just not true. So, he suggested a bet to see if I still had my skills-”

“Your skills?”

“-yes my skills, would you listen?”

Fred leaned closer to you, his eyebrows raising as you rolled your eyes.

“Back to what I was saying,” he drew in a breath, dragging out this entire conversation, “George suggested a bet to see if I could still charm the ladies,” he wiggled his eyebrows and you quirked one of yours.

“Long story short-”

You interrupted again, “That was the short version of that story? Fred can’t we do this later, I’ve got class in,” you glanced at your watch. “two minutes.”

“No! Give me a second,” he ran a hand through his hair, putting his strong hands on your shoulders to keep you in place, “I made a bet with George that I could get you to fall in love with me in two weeks and date you for a month!”

You looked up at the boy, thinking he had gone off the end. He had to, either that or he was messing with you. Or maybe he had been slipped a potion of some sort.

“Fred,” you started, your kind tone giving Fred the impression you would agree to the plan, “you just waisted the very limited break I have between classes, successfully pulling me away from a very entertaining story about Snape, and probably making me late for Herbology.”

Fred groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance.

“I’m serious!”

You pulled against Fred’s grip, but he kept you in place. His face lit up, obviously coming up with what he thought would be a great plan. He released you briefly, digging his hands in his bag and moving crumpled papers around. He pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper, brandishing it like it was a diamond.

“This, my love, is going to get you out of Herbology this class period,” he said, unfolding the paper.

He revealed a blank piece of paper with tiny sparkles floating on the page. As he held it for a second longer, words began to form on the paper, writing something.

‘Professor Sprout,

Please excuse Y/n from Herbology this period, she came to me with a pain in her stomach and I gave her a potion to fix it. She stayed in the infirmary during the period.

-Poppy’

You had heard about these before, enchanted notes that were written in authentic handwriting and enchanted the reader to believe it, no matter what they said. Perfect for forging notes from teachers.

You stared at the paper in awe, grabbing it from Fred’s loose grasp.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. That’s the last one I have,” he said, feeling a bit remorseful having to give it up. He had been planning to use it to get out of Ancient Runes tomorrow.

You folded the paper again, putting it neatly in your bag and looking back at Fred.

“Alright, let’s go,” you sighed, allowing him to lead you to the great hall, through the courtyard, and out to the Quidditch Pitch where no teachers would be.

You sat in the stands, overlooking the empty and wet field,

“You want me to date you for two weeks?” you asked, sounding reluctant.

“No,” Fred said, sounding annoyed, “I want to fake date you for a month, but we won’t start until two weeks from now.”

You squinted, looking out at the stands on the other side of the field. You were thinking about this, finding the cons to outweigh the pros.

“What’s in it for me?” you paused, hearing Fred’s groan from beside you, “I mean, this could ruin my friendship with Ron, I get the embarrassing reputation when you fake dump me in a month, I don’t see how this is benefiting me.”

“Ron won’t care, I promise you,” Fred said acting as if this was obvious, “he lets Harry ogle Ginny all the time. And as for our fake dumping, that can be totally on your terms. I just need to win the bet with George.”

“What do you get if you win?”

Fred had hoped you weren’t going to ask that, but he was realizing you were smarter than he thought.

“Three Galleons,” he lied, looking at your skeptical face in the corner of his eye, “fine, six Galleons.”

You looked expectantly at him, waiting for his offer.

“I’ll split it with you,” he finally gave in.

He was a little upset at having to share his future winnings, but once you agreed to the bet and squealed excitedly at the possibility of some Galleons, a smile spread on his face.

Fred began laying the groundwork the next day. He made sure to send you flirtatious smiles when George was looking, waving to you in the halls, and talking to you in the common room.

You, Hermione, and Ron sat at a table in the corner, the three of you poured over a chess match. Ron was successfully beating Hermione, watching her as she tried to remember the rules he had taught her over and over.

“You can’t do that,” he said impatiently as Hermione tried to move a pawn backwards. His hand reached out and returned the piece back to where it was, and Hermione groaned.

You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes and turning your head up towards the ceiling.

“Hello,” Fred purred from above you, looking down at you.

You snapped your eyes open, not entirely used to Fred’s flirting yet. It took you by surprise most days, and he always managed to get you when you weren’t expecting it. You looked to Ron, gauging his reaction. His eyes stayed locked on Hermione’s frustrated face, arms crossed as he waited for her move.

“Hello,” you replied, turning your head to face Fred as he move to your side.

He leaned against your chair, his hand supporting his weight as he wrapped it around the back of your chair. The top of his hip bumped into your shoulder, and you resisted the urge to lean away from him. It’s not that Fred Weasley was disgusting or anything, he certainly wasn’t, but he had a reputation. Fred wasn’t known to be faithful or respectful of the usual rules regarding relationships. He wasn’t tied down, and half the student body has seen him naked (or wanted to). You had gone through your phase of liking Fred, and that phase lasted longer than you’d like to admit. You refused to boost his ego, though, and felt determined to not let this fake dating get to your head.

Ron was still busy with his chess match, now watching Hermione’s focused gaze turn into a nervous one as she became aware of Ron’s eyes on her. She bit her lip, tapping her fingers on the table.

Fred glanced down at you, quirking an eyebrow and nodding his head towards Ron. He was showing you that Ron wouldn’t care if you two dated, testing Ron’s limits.

Fred’s hand moved slowly from the back of your chair to your shoulder. His slender fingers pressed gently on your clothed arm, moving to brush a piece of hair from your neck. He twirled a piece of your hair in his fingers, raising an amused eyebrow at Ron’s lack of reaction.

“Merlin, Hermione! I’ve taught you 100 times!”

Hermione scoffed, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

“Ron!” she exclaimed back, offended.

“Look,” he moved his hand to one of her pieces. He whisked it across the board, then one of his pieces, and then one of Hermione’s, and then one of his own, “Check.”

“Maybe if you had patience and didn’t stare me down every time it was my turn-” Hermione started, glancing to you for support.

Her eyes widened when she saw the somewhat intimate position you were in with Fred, her sentence dropping.

“If you didn’t take so long, I wouldn’t stare you down!” Ron huffed and pushed his chair back, standing suddenly.

He hadn’t even glanced at you and Fred, missing Hermione’s shocked expression.

“What are you doing?” she questioned Fred, sounding even more offended than when Ron was yelling at her a moment ago.

“What?” Fred replied nonchalantly, pushing his body away from yours and taking Ron’s seat.

He moved the chair closer to the table, purposefully brushing his knee against yours. You knew he was watching your face, so you kept a neutral expression.

“He was all over you,” Hermione whispered to you, as if Fred wasn’t right in front of her,

“So?” you asked, acting as if it wasn’t abnormal for Fred to ‘be all over you’.

You were internally cringing at the whole thing, at Fred’s forwardness, lying to Hermione, the whole situation.

“Something must be in the air today,” Hermione said to no one in particular as she stood from the table, “everyone’s lost their minds.”

She left you and Fred, leaving him with a smirk on his face.

“I think that went well,” Fred said, moving the pieces on the chess board around swiftly as he set it up for a new game.

You moved to Hermione’s seat so you were across from him, rolling your eyes.

“This is ridiculous, Fred,” you said, and at the sound of your genuine annoyance his eyes were on your face.

The board in front of you was set anew, white closest to you. You let yourself sit in your frustration for a moment, looking down at the board and moving a pawn. Fred made no move to his own pieces, just staring at you from his side of the table.

“What d’you mean?” he said, watching your hand retreat from the board.

“These public displays of affection- isn’t it a little ridiculous?” you said, locking your eyes on the game in front of you.

A look of hurt flashed across Fred’s face, not that you would have seen it, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. His hand lazily moved one of his pawns.

“I don’t think so, no,” he said, leaning back in his chair and still studying your face, “I think they’re quite effective.”

“They’re only effective because I’m playing along,” you moved another pawn, hoping Fred would take the bait so you could steal his pawn.

“Which I appreciate fully,” he said, leaning forward and moving his pawn exactly where you wanted him to.

You stole his piece, advancing on the board. He hadn’t even registered the game, frankly, only looking at you.

“I feel like-” you didn’t know what you felt. You hadn’t put it into words, but you knew you didn’t like it.

Fred, and older, charming, handsome boy, was showing you a new amount of attention. Fred, a boy you had a crush on almost the entire time you’ve known him, was sending you flirtatious winks in the hallways and being very affectionate. Fred, your best friend’s older brother, was trying to date you to win a bet.

“-nevermind,” you finished, realizing you could not say any of this aloud.

Fred had a quizzical look on his face, watching you as you silently sat across from him. You met his eyes for the first time since he sat down, swallowing hard. You stared at each other for at least a minute, neither of you moving or breaking the contact. His eyes had an intensity in them that you had never seen before, but they were also gentle and kind. He looked soft, his face illuminated by the faint candle light and fireplace, casting a yellow hue over his skin. His hair was grown out and pushed off his forehead, falling easily on the sides of his face. He had taken his tie off, though still in his school uniform, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His mouth, usually in a resting smirk, was thin and straight, making him look rarely serious.

You felt like it took ages, but you finally broke his stare and cast your eyes downward at the board. You looked back up at him, seeing his eyes unmoving from your face.

“Your move,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Fred’s eyes shot to the board, and he moved the first piece he saw. His mind was racing as he tried to collect his thoughts, all of which were about you.

He had no idea what happened, but his heart was beating incredibly fast and his hands were sweating. Fred, a man who had never once done anything serious, was feeling very serious. He didn’t know what was going on inside his head, but all he knew was that he thought you were remarkably beautiful. You were perfect, really, and he could not wait for this game of chess to end so he could get the hell away from you.

Fred had never been in any sort of serious relationship. He had never dated a girl for longer than a few weeks, usually doing something that offended them (that was often mentioning how hot another girl was, or, in the worst case, snogging said other girl). He didn’t care for anything long-term, anything serious, because he couldn’t be bothered to find anyone that interesting. You, however, made his hands sweat. No one had ever made Fred’s hands sweat. No one had ever made Fred’s mind run blank.

He blinked at the board, realizing it was his turn again, and felt like giggling like a school girl. He shot his head up, looking around the common room and pretending to be in a hurry.

“Have you got the time?” he asked, watching as you looked down at your wrist- eyes flickering to your hand, which he realized he wanted nothing more than to hold in that moment- checking the time on your watch and telling him. He sprang from his chair, “I told George I’d meet him in a few, can we continue this later?”

He hadn’t even waited for an answer before he was running through the portrait hole, nearly knocking a few first years off their feet when he bumped into them.

Fred disappeared from the common room, leaving you with the chess board.

For the next few days, Fred’s flirting was non-existent. He wasn’t ignoring you, but the entire dynamic between you had shifted; something changed. He wasn’t painfully arrogant, seeming to take more effort in the way he treated you. There was no inappropriate flirting, no lustful winks. You wondered if the bet was still on.

You found out soon that it was.

You and Hermione left the library fairly late into the afternoon, but neither of you minded the time that got away from you. You spent the day doing very little actual studying, talking and laughing instead. There was a very few amount of people who could tear Hermione away from her studies, and she didn’t often like to admit that you were one of them.

“Are you going to tell me why Fred was so-” she broke off, shuddering in some sort of disgusted way that made you laugh “-touchy with you the other day?”

Hermione had been pressing a little bit every time she saw you about Fred, and you had been avoiding it every time.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. That was just Fred being Fred,” you insisted, rolling your eyes playfully.

The guilt of lying to your friends left you a few days ago, instead you only felt overwhelming uneasiness as your schoolgirl crush for Fred resurfaced. You couldn’t help it; the hot older boy you had liked since your first year was suddenly putting himself in compromising situations with you. So, you couldn’t tell Hermione about Fred’ bet, because then you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself telling her about your genuine crush.

“Really?” Hermione teased, bumping her shoulder into yours.

“Yes, really,” you insisted, turning the corner to the main staircase that was crowded with students wandering the castle on the weekend afternoon, “ I don’t get why your fixating on this, ‘Mione.”

Your words, however, fell on deaf ears. Her gaze was locked on something on the stairs beneath you both. You followed it, seeing the heavy stream of students starting to part. From your position, you couldn’t see much through the crowd, but soon the crowd thinned around you and you got closer.

Fred stood on the landing, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. You bit your lip, trying to hide the laugh bubbling in your chest. Such a grand gesture for a fake one-month relationship, this boy was determined to beat George and win those three Galleons. You felt Hermione clutching loosely to your arm, a dazed sort of look overcoming her features. You couldn’t help but laugh at this, prying yourself free from her grip and walking down the stairs to meet Fred.

He also looked sort of dazed, and with a quizzical expression you felt your face heat up under the stares of everyone in the stairwell. You came to the landing, looking up at Fred. His hand shook a little as he held the flowers, and he bit his lip harshly.

“Want to go out with me?” he asked, a surprisingly earnest voice replacing his usual smug one.

You glanced at your watch, moving to stand on your toes to reach him. You moved your mouth to his ear, speaking so only he could hear you, “You’re about a week early with this gesture, Freddie.”

He chuckled, and from being so close to him his chest bumped yours slightly. You fell to stand flat on your feet, still close to him. He looked down at you, holding the flowers between your chests.

“I don’t like following schedules,” he said, grinning down at you.

You resisted the urge to wrap your arms around his shoulders and never let go, settling instead on a bashful smile. He handed you the flowers, the brown paper they were wrapped in feeling a little damp from how profusely his hands were nervously sweating.

When he made this bet with George, he had just planned on kissing you in some busy hallway to announce the start of your relationship, as he did with most of his relationships. Somehow, though, you felt more special. His stomach sank every time he thought about the limited and fake month he’d have to with you, but he forced his way through it.

So he went to the field by Hagrid’s hut and picked the best flowers he could find, wrapping them in a brown paper and organizing them so they were perfect, because you were perfect.

He looked down at you, watching you as you held the flowers up to your face and smelled them. Your eyes were light and filled with innocent excitement, giving him an enchanting smile that showed all your teeth; you looked incredibly and undeniably happy, and that made Fred happy.

You had both nearly forgotten about the entire student body surrounding you both, watching the exchange. Fred, feeling unnerved by the vulnerability he had exhibited in such a large crowd, looked up and smiled smugly, wiggling his eyebrows. The entire staircase erupted in a somewhat jumbled mix of cheers and laughter, sending a deep red blush to your cheeks. Fred looked down at you, and in a moment of unfiltered happiness, brought his hands to your cheeks. He lifted your head from where you had ducked it to hide the blush, forcing you to look up at him with the embarrassed grin on your lips. Before he could think about what he was doing, his face was leaning closer to yours and his hands on your cheeks were pulling you closer to him. You barely had the time to register what was happening, only hearing the laughter and cheers around you get louder as Fred’s face was pressed against yours.

He was fast at first, passionate and quick as if he thought he only had a second before you pulled away. You couldn’t though, even though every bone in your body was telling you to. Your lasting feelings for Fred were telling you that this kiss was okay, that your friendship with Ron would take the backseat for a while as you let Fred press himself against you. Your thoughts were fading, being replaced with the hyper awareness of everywhere Fred was touching you. His lips slowed and his breathing became slower too. He let out a sigh through his nose, the air hitting your face and sending a brand new flush to your cheeks. His hands on your cheeks stopped pulling you towards him, now being a gentle and soft presence on your skin. His left hand was grazing your jaw, his calloused fingertips tickling the skin lightly. His right hand cupped your cheek firmly still, but his thumb rubbed against your cheekbone. You held the flowers in one hand, and it wasn’t until a few seconds into the kiss that you had even remembered you had hands. You rested your hand holding the flowers against his chest, tilting the bouquet so it didn’t hit Fred in the face. Your other hand snaked up his arm, clutching loosely at his strong forearm as it hung between your bodies.

You were both at each other’s wills, you would do anything Fred and Fred vowed to himself that he would follow you to the ends of the Earth, if you asked him to.

The spark moving through Fred’s body was nothing he had ever felt before. He didn’t feel it when he kissed Angelina Johnson, his first kiss, after winning a Quidditch match. He didn’t feel it when he drunkenly kissed Alicia Spinnet at a party. He didn’t feel anything close to this when he kissed Katie Bell in a game of truth or dare last year. You were completely new to Fred, and part of him already knew he wanted to spend every second with you from then on out.

You pulled away first, entirely and completely breathless. You looked up at Fred, mouth opening and closing like an out of water fish as you tried to find words to say in this moment. Fred just chuckled, bringing his hand on your cheek to graze his knuckles against your swollen lips. You closed your mouth, feeling okay with having nothing to say, and figuring it was better to not say anything anyways.

The crowd registered in your brain, making you feel extremely embarrassed again. You shoved your face into Fred’s chest, hiding the flush all over your face.

“Alright! Shows over, you perverts,” Fred called out, smiling widely at the group.

You heard the shuffling of feet begin around you, the traffic beginning once again. A few wolf whistles reached your ears, and you didn’t remove yourself from Fred’s chest until you were sure everyone had moved on.

Fred’s large hand rested on the back of your head, soothing down your hair. You found it oddly intimate, and you knew letting all of this happen was only setting yourself up for hurt when this bet was inevitably over, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Pulling away finally, your flowers clutched at your side, you took a deep breath. You were bringing your gaze to look up at Fred, but a group of redheads standing behind him caught your eyes and made them widen.

“I am so telling mum you have a girlfriend!” Ginny squealed, her voice easily heard in the now empty stairwell.

Fred turned to face his family, seeing Ginny, Ron, George, Hermione, and Harry looking at him as if he’s sprouted five new limbs.

Ron elbowed Ginny, sending her a wide-eyed look, “my bestfriend is not his girlfriend!” Ron said confidently, then turning to Fred with a threatening look, “My bestfriend is not your girlfriend.”

Fred smiled nervously, “I’m not dating Harry, Ron,” he attempted to joke, only earning a laugh from George and an embarrassed look from Harry.

You peaked from behind Fred, meeting the group. You smiled at them sheepishly, meeting Hermione’s baffled eyes.

“I knew it!” she called, causing the entire group to turn their heads to look at her, “I knew you fancied her.”

Hermione looked quite proud of herself, but Ron looked fuming. Harry had sort of a ‘I-saw-this-coming’ look on his face.

“Guys,” you said, stepping towards them, “Ron.”

You gave Ron a pleading look, prepared to embarrass yourself and set the whole thing straight, even prepared to lose 3 Galleons. Suddenly, Hermione stepped between you and Ron.

“Ronald,” she said sternly, snapping Ron out from his angry mood briefly, “I hope you are not about to prevent a lovely relationship just because you have no emotional intelligence or maturity regarding these subjects.”

Your eyes widened from behind Hermione, casting a shocked glance to Fred. George and Ginny stifled their laughter, saving an embarrassed Ron some of his pride after being scolded by Hermione.

“But he’s my brother!” he whined, his anger leaving him and instead being replaced by some sort of tame disgust.

You couldn’t take it, every part of you wanted to tell them it was a bet, the galleons be damned. You looked to Fred with a warning look, only to see him digging in his pockets.

“George,” he called out, removing his hand from his pocket and clutching something, “catch.”

Fred tossed six coins at George, and George caught them with surprise.

“Bets off,” Fred said, looking painfully serious.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, an immense feeling of guilt wash over you. You had cost Fred six galleons, even after the work he had put in. He had kissed you for the sake of it, and you couldn’t go one month.

“Fred,” you stuttered, looking at him with guilt

His mouth broke into a grin, however, and he took a few steps towards you. George watched Fred’s movements, and began pulling away the group. Ron, still standing there with a confused look on his face, was tugged away by the back of his collar.

“I don’t want to fake date you,” he whispered to you once he was close enough, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Well, that seems like a lot of work for nothing, then-” you started, only for his lips to fall onto yours and silence you.

You couldn’t help it, again, as you let yourself melt into him. He pulled away all too soon however, resting his forehead on yours as he looked into your eyes.

“I want to date you for real,” he said, biting his lip nervously, “not as a bet.”

Your eyes widened, and once again you could not think of anything to say. You opened and closed your mouth, searching for the words, but gave up. You gave a relieved sigh, hearing the words you had dreamed of hearing since you were 12, and kissed Fred Weasley.

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 3 years

Text

Worth the Risk | Bodhi Rook x Reader (1/2)

Words: 1970

A/N: Ey, guess who's back with the rare posting again. This was in my draft for a while, along with many others, but I finally got something done.

Summary: Childhood friends separated at a young age, never having a chance to say goodbye. They had gone on different paths of life, but the Force had brought them together years later, only to miss the opportunity to either say goodbye or stay. The Force works in mysterious ways, and if was meant to be, then they may meet again for the third and possibly final time.

Continuation to [Run Away With Me]

Bodhi’s friends watched as he flitted around the U-Wing, busying himself with tasks that were unnecessary and repetitive. Chirrut seemed to have already known why he was acting odd, but he would simply say to give it time. Jyn made sure to include him with meet ups with the other Rebels and there were times where he accepted the offer, though he’d end up keeping to himself. Over time, he had been opening himself to others and talking more again. Still, there was something that he had not been telling anyone. It was no secret to the Rogue One crew that he’d always pause and stare up at the stars longingly.

He had been cleaning up his cargo ship for the second time that day when he heard a knock at the ramp. He turned and saw Cassian leaning against the ship with his arms crossed. The captain’s eyes roamed around the ship before landing on the pilot.

“We’ve got a mission,” he said.

Bodhi nodded. “When do we start?”

“In forty-eight hours. The details will be sent to your datapad tonight. Make the necessary preparations before meeting here.”

“Alright.” When Cassian didn’t move to leave, Bodhi walked up to him and cleared his throat. “Is there anything else?”

“We need you to focus on this, Bodhi,” he said, “No more staring at the stars until the mission is done.”

“I know that-”

“We almost got caught because of your distractions!” Cassian snapped.

Bodhi sighed, taking off his goggles and tossing them on the side. He slumped down on a bench and Cassian moved forward to join him.

“I thought I lost them. (Y/n). We had lost contact for years and now that I know that they’re actually out there…”

Cassian patted his back. “The Rebellion keeps tabs on their allies. We know how to contact them when we need them and they are free to come back any time.”

“Why did they leave?” Bodhi asked quietly. “They could have stayed. You know, I ran into their parents once when I was still an Imperial cargo pilot. I had stopped at a planet for fuel when I saw them at the local market. They were like family to me and helped me when I had to take care of my mother. When I saw that (Y/n) wasn’t with them, I asked. They said that they hadn’t heard from them for a while, but there were always credits flowing in to keep them going and even buy a house. It was the only way they knew that (Y/n) was alive. Still, I never thought I would ever see them again.”

He raised his head as Cassian stood up. “You’ll see them again,” he said firmly with a faint smile before heading out.

For others, Cassian didn’t seem to be the type of person for warm words of encouragement or sentiment, but for those who knew him well knew the truth. When it mattered, he was always there for his team. So if Cassian Andor said that Bodhi would see (Y/n) again, he believed it.

It had been almost two weeks since Cassian and Jyn began working undercover to trace back black market exchanges with Imperial associates. Bodhi had also been doing his part as a stranded tradesman who had a nasty encounter and was forced to be grounded until he could fix his ship. He lingered near the docks and watched who came and went and what they were carrying.

Bodhi had come back from the local farmer’s market when he saw a familiar ship landing two spaces away from his cargo ship. A tall rusty red droid walked off the ramp first, followed by a hooded figure. A man waited at the end of the ramp and immediately greeted them. He took out a datapad and began walking with them towards the nearest tavern as the ramp raised. Bodhi quickly dropped off his things and followed them at a distance.

Night had fallen by the time their meeting was over. The man left first, subtly looking over his shoulder before heading out. You and Desa lingered, finishing up your drink as you discussed the offer.

“Is he still watching?” you muttered at Desa into your cup.

“Yes.”

“What do you think we should do? This is important information. Giving it will help the Rebellion, but it will paint a big target on our heads and we’ll stray further from being neutral.”

“I’ll follow whatever decision you choose, (Y/n).”

You sighed, setting down your cup. “Of course you’d say that. Let’s head back.”

You left the ramp down as you Desa took stock on your current inventory. While you were noting down your rations, Desa made her way over to the ramp where Bodhi stood with wide eyes. She gestured for him to come in and waited to close the ramp behind him.

“(Y/n),” Bodhi said softly. “I…” He trailed off when you didn’t budge. Desa made her way over to you and took over your task, giving you no excuse to avoid him.

“Here on rebel business?” you asked, finally turning to face him.

He nodded. “What about you?”

“Needed to stop by for some supplies and then meet with a potential client.” You paused to take in his face. “How’ve you been?”

“Pretty well. Honestly, hoping to run into you again.”

“Why?”

“You’re my best friend… were. And also, for an explanation on why you always left without saying goodbye.”

“The first time wasn’t my fault,” you pointed out. “The last time was all me.”

“Is it foolish to hope that that was also the last time that you’ll do that?”

He stepped closer, heating radiating off his body and warming you. When was the last time you allowed someone this close to you? All you were used to now was the cold steel of your ship and Desa’s metal hand when she’d steady or reassure you. Seeing him this close in such a long time, you could see he was older. The stubble and moustache, the faint lines forming near his eyes and his mouth. From laughing, you hoped. But his eyes were still the bright eyes that you’ve known him to have. But he was no longer the Bodhi you used to know, you reminded yourself.

“And for what reason would I completely side with the Rebellion?” you asked, side-stepping him towards the chairs behind the cockpit. You sat down with a sigh, leaning back and propping your feet on the chair across.

“It’s not like you’re with the Empire,” he countered. “Especially not after what they did to our home. To your parents.”

Your head snapped up. “What do you even know about my parents.”

“I met them while I was still under the Empire. They told me everything.”

“Then you know why I’m doing this. This whole line of business to get us by.”

“Smuggling refugees was never a part of it, though, was it?” You remained silent, staring at the metal wall with your arms crossed.

“When Galen Erso sent me on a mission to deliver a message to Saw Guerrera, I felt like I could finally take a hold of my fate. I was no longer just a pawn being played in this war. The people of the Rebellion… they chose to rebel, to fight back against the Empire. Just ordinary people that saw the injustice happening in the galaxy and decided to do something about it. If that’s not what you are doing, then what is it?”

You couldn’t keep a neutral expression up, not around Bodhi. Not after giving his little speech with passion in his eyes, the same way that he used to have when he talked about flying to reach the stars. That was all so long ago.

You dropped your feet and curled them under your chair. Bodhi took it as a silent invitation to take a seat. “Is there a place for me… in the Rebellion? It all seems… I don’t know. This is war, and having attachments would only hurt you in the end.”

Bodhi sighed, scooting at the edge of his chair to gently lift your head up, his fingertips burning your skin. “Love and hope is what’s keeping the spark from burning out against the darkness that the Empire is spreading. We’re so close to ending this. I can feel it.”

After leaving the Rogue One crew, you wondered what would have happened if you had stayed. It felt that there were loose ends to tie before you could make a decision like that. Besides, at the time, you felt like you could do more by being out there on your own terms instead of following orders. You could always feed them information if it was important enough without completely joining them.

“Why are you so against joining us?” Bodhi finally asked.

There was a muffled sound coming from Bodhi’s hip that drew your attention away. You pulled away from him and nodded over to his communicator. He pulled his lips into a thin line before answering it, moving over to another corner of your ship. You heard Desa, who had been giving the two of you space, come over and lay a cold metal hand on your shoulder.

“Your heart has already made a decision, but your mind is trying to fight it,” she said.

You placed your hand over hers and sighed. “We’ll give them the information, then we leave,” you said quietly.

“(Y/n)-”

“My family has had a target on their backs for a long time and I’m not going to have them a target again. They’ve finally settled someplace. I don’t want them to pick up all of their things and go on a run again because of me. They just can’t keep doing that anymore.” You rubbed your temples in frustration at the thought of what you were about to do. Again.

Bodhi finished up his status report with Cassian before turning to the ramp. The mission was being wrapped up and he needed to start up the ship as soon as possible. But first, he needed to know where you stand.

“(Y/n), I have to go,” he said slowly, adjusting the goggles on his head.

“Oh,” you said, your throat tightening as you walked over. You grabbed your datapad and scrolled through until you found your recent client. “Before you go,” you paused to clear your throat and push down the anxiety threatening to spill out, “There’s a man that came to me to retrieve specific weaponry similar to the models on Imperial vehicles. Not sure if it relates to what you guys are looking for, but I thought it’d be worth investigating.”

He grabbed the datapad and scanned through the information. “Send this to me and I’ll bring it up with the crew,” he said, handing it back. When you reached forward to grab it, he laid his other hand on yours. “So, this is it? At least I could say goodbye, right?”

He looked at you with those round eyes that were always filled with passion and longing to fly and reach the stars. Yet now, they seemed to be longing to reach something else. Your heart was torn. As soon as he walks out of your ship, what if this would really be the last time you ever see him again? Was it a risk to let him into your life again and let him get this far? Would it be selfish of you to join him? All this time, everything you did was for your family.

“Be safe out there, Bodhi,” you said softly, slowly pulling your hand away, the warmth leaving with him.

His brows furrowed, then he shook his head. “You, too, (Y/n).”

#bodhi rook x reader #bodhi rook #rogue one imagine #rogue one #star wars imagine #star wars #may the fourth be with you #may the fourth #I know my inconsistencies had lost me followers #at first I was discouraged by it #but at this point I'm reverting back to writing for me #as it should be #instead of pressuring myself to meet expectations that I may never meet

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the-wintershade · 4 years

Text

— things ain’t what they used to be

pairing: sam wilson x f!reader x bucky barnes summary: bucky’s words get into your head and your dancing skills falter, threatening the partnership you and sam have built, but he is always there to listen and to encourage. In the process, you get closer than you thought. wc: 4.9k+ genre: angsty, flirting, deeper talks, secrets coming out

Blue Shade: series — masterlist | 03

You couldn’t let yourself be as carefree as you once were. No matter how you tried to force out Bucky’s words, they were in there, ingrained in a part of your brain that you couldn’t access or change.

It became noticeable when you showed up for class the next week.

You were stiffer, heavier on your feet, and avoided Sam’s glancing eyes more intentionally.

You felt awful, horrible that words that should have fallen on shut ears wormed their way into your head. Like you were a pawn, a slave to his bidding. You didn’t want the words there, you wanted nothing to do with his fowl corrupting phrases of false assurance. It was like a gambit, a lure of something genuine with the price of your soul attached to it.

You didn’t want to trade anything. You didn’t want the deal, but your mind already decided for you.

And Sam was suffering for it.

The instructor seems to notice as well as she stops and frowns more than once in your direction. Steve and Peggy are dancing fabulously, but have a diminished energy, as if your change has affected them too. Natasha mouths are you okay? over her shoulder as she twists around Clint.

You try to nod and put on your best smile, but it feels plastic, robotic. It’s more done out of habit than a truthful response.

It was always like this being with Bucky, but if that’s what it took, you would pay the price. You could go back. It could be like it used to be.

You trip over Sam’s foot for the fourth time since the class began fifteen minutes ago and a heavy sigh spreads through you, your grip loosening on Sam’s hand. He holds your hand firmer when you falter, but doesn’t move any closer.

“You alright?” His face twists with worry and you kick yourself mentally for letting Bucky throw you off this much. “Do you need to take a break?”

Irritation bubbles in your chest at the suggestion. It’s not his fault that you’re so off your game, but you didn’t want to quit. That meant that Bucky won. That somehow he’d made you a toy to play with that remained completely obedient to his beck and call.

“No.” You breathe, knowing that your frustration was on display despite that you’d tried to shove it down. “No, I just….” You pulled your hand off his shoulder and ran it through your hair, collecting your thoughts. Glancing down, you practiced moving in a box like you’d done before, perfectly.

“Okay.” He nodded and moved with you. “Try taking the lead. I’ll follow you.” His gaze was gentle and patient as he waited for you to get your stance in order before moving. You took your first few steps and he mirrored you completely, easily.

He had no problems keeping up with you and your hesitating movements. He made it look simple, like he was just breathing, and it was your turn to be in awe of him.

“What, Coffee Girl?” He smirked, the first time he’d joked around with you since class started. “Surprised that I can follow as well as I can lead?”

You closed your mouth as you looked up to him. It was that same hint of playfulness and warmth that he always showed you. It felt unfair that he was taking the brunt of your internal war and your heart squooze at your behavior. Shame flared across your features, making your skin molten.

By the time you were ready to form an answer, you were too devastated to form words. You just kind of gave a weak chuckle and kept trying not to step on his feet.

“Alright.” He dropped your hand and created distance between you two. You struggled to adjust to the drop in temperature, feeling strangely empty and devoid of energy. Sadness threatened to envelop you at the pain you were causing. Your eyes started watering uncontrollably.

He cleared his throat excessively loud and everyone paused. “Excuse the interruption, but I think that we all deserve a break right?” He gestured at Steve and Peggy who stopped swaying mid swing. Steve looked from Sam to you and nodded his head. He turned to the dance instructor.

“I think a five minute break wouldn’t harm anyone.” She agreed with a slight sly undercurrent underneath that felt directed towards you in a way.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I vote for a dance break. Perhaps with a selection of more danceable music.” Sam struts over to the speaker in a way that almost broke your tight lipped frown into a smile. Almost. The jazzy funk of Marvin Gaye began spinning around the hall, changing the quiet, cautious sounds of a piano and serenading trumpet into groovy percussion and a calming guitar.

Sam nodded his head enthusiastically while Steve laughed at his antics. His eyes glimmered with a hidden inside joke that you wouldn’t get.

He boogies his way to Steve and Peggy who fumble around in a mess of unsynchronized tempo and jerky movements but they began to fall into this 50s inspired groove that seems to work in sync with the music. You’re surprised at their knowledge of such an older style but it’s nice to see them break out of the formality that the waltz demands.

A man who’s name you learned was Vis, short for some extensive name you weren’t really paying that much attention to, got booty bumped by a funky Sam and looked like a deer in headlights. You almost giggled then and watched as Wanda began to shake and jump around. Vis’s face turned beet red, which happened every time he was even a bit embarrassed.

After some whoops and hollers from Wanda, Vis tried to move on the beat with her, holding her hands like he needed her for balance instead of guidance. They stumble through the steps together, but at least they are having fun. Wanda’s beautiful smile warms Vis to the core; it’s easy to see.

Sam attempts to drag Natasha and Clint into the action but both hold up hands, clearly conveying that’s never gonna happen. He shoots finger guns at them and spins around to make a b-line for you.

You shake your head furiously in denial and begin to back up, but Sam is insistent and presses in closer until he’s toe to toe with you. He draws your hands into his as you take a deep breath involuntarily and shakes his hips a little, teasing you with his eyes as he pours it on thick. “Oh, mercy mercy me,” He hums showing you that he won’t back down until you join him.

You begin to giggle and he alights with color, the whites of his teeth show. He tries to tamper it though and twirls his hand around to spin you in a circle. You follow his subtle direction and pivot around his hand as the orchestral part of the song begins to take over.

He pulls you in, wiggling his shoulders and guiding you through a modified waltz that’s much less challenging and more relaxing. It’s more about moving to the beat and adding pizzazz to what’s already there. It’s fun and you're smiling in no time, Bucky’s words drifting out of your mind.

He booty bumps you. You both fall into a bundle of awkwardly spasming bodies and outburst of mirth.

Sam watches you with laughter, his brown cheeks becoming little balls of happiness on his face. His eyes drip in amusement and enjoyment. He’s the party and the entertainment all in one.

You hold on to his light even as the song fades, even as the class resumes and you’re back in his warm, safe arms again, flowing through the moves in perfect harmony. He feels warmer now, renewed at the quick break that’s brought back your smile. You feel like Bucky’s words were nothing but a terrible, horrible dream that’ll dissolve by standing next to your sun, next to your Sam.

…

Sam digs into his burger as you take a reasonable bit of your own, watching him just as he watches you. It’s not creepy or intimidating, but more of a familiar thing to do. You’ve been observing each other for some time now, soon after introductions were established, so this was nothing unusual.

But Sam’s gaze held something deeper, a twinge of confusion and dissatisfaction wafted through his deeply colored eyes. You wanted to ask, but waited. It might not be something that you were quite ready to answer yet. You resolved to finish chewing your part of the burger and look outside at the rushing traffic, at the way the light bounces off buildings and makes the sidewalk brighter.

Sure enough, when you’re ready to reach for your drink, Sam’s question beats you to it. “What happened yesterday?”

It’s a question that he has a right to an answer, especially with how it conflicted with your dancing abilities, but you don’t want to lay too much on him. After all, these were your issues to deal with, dumping your problems on him were unfair.

“Nothing,” You compromise, hoping that the words would be just enough to convince him that some was definitely wrong but you weren’t ready to really get into it. “Just a little tired and irritated, that’s all.”

He doesn’t like the way you sigh. His shoulders hunch a little and his eyebrows furrow closer together when he hears something that upsets him. The fact that you knew that, surprises you, but you brush it off as getting to know each other over these past few days.

“(Name), be honest with me,” He pauses, his voice softening with an edge of seriousness. “I deserve that much.”

You almost cringe. He’s right, but you still don’t really want to say what really happened. You don’t want to upset him or make him angry for your sake. That, he doesn’t deserve. You also don’t want him to take on anything. You’ll solve this.

“If I tell you,” You fiddle with your straw, leaning back in your chair like you have the winning hand in a game of blackjack. “You have to promise me, that you won’t get upset.”

He leans forward, his concern rising in his eyebrows and darkening expression. “I can do that.” He tries to smooth out the creases that formed in the last few seconds, but a few still strain against him, telling you that he’s already upset.

You sigh and mess with your fingers in your lap, refusing to look him in the eye, to watch him become disgruntled with what you’re about to say. You explain what happened when you got home, how Bucky’s arms held you restrainedly tight against him and how he tried to convince you that Sam was just trying to use you, to play you in some way.

By the time you looked up, Sam wasn’t all the way upset, his shoulders were hunched still but his eyes were wide and hurt. That damaged you the most.

He leaned back when you made eye contact and looked away, his fingers running across his chin absentmindedly. When he was ready, which took some time, he dared to gaze back at you before sitting forward. “Do you not trust me?”

What? That’s the farthest thing from the truth. Of course you trusted him, this wasn’t about that. “I trust you.” You answered with more determination than you thought you were capable of and stared him directly in the eyes as you said so, assuring him that there were falsities in your statement. You know he accepts your answer as his shoulders drop in relief.

He looks down and takes a breath before continuing. “Then why were you all over the place today?”

You close your eyes in frustration. “Because he doesn’t know you. Because I know you wouldn’t do something like that.” You sigh and stare at the table. “I was angry that his words got to me like that. I didn’t believe for a second that the words were true, but the fact that he knows just how to get a rise out of me made me unbelievably frustrated.”

When you don’t look at him, he reaches across the table and brushes his fingers against your deathly tight grip on your cup. Your hand loosens on contact as you take a sharp breath, a flush moving to your cheeks, a shiver riverbrating down your spine. “Thank you for telling me.” He murmurs, his gaze warm and more sultry than you remember.

Your hand inches out to that lightning strike that buzzes between your hands, but you restrain yourself and let it fall open onto the table. “Thank you,” You minutely smile. “For believing me.”

“Am I stepping on anything, by inviting you to dance with me?” He looks genuinely concerned and it breaks your heart all over again. His warmth and light that you don’t deserve.

“No. It was my choice to agree to dance with you and Bucky just has jealousy problems that he needs to sort out himself.” Your jaw locks when you say the words, but you’re much calmer now. The heat that runs through your veins isn’t from anger.

Sam nods and returns to eating. You do the same.

A question bubbles up through your chest, an idea you previously ignored but now brought to your attention through its neglect. “That day I met you at the party, why were you there?” Your eyes are guarded, but not closed. You’re concerned that it took you so long to ask.

Sam smirks and finishes swallowing before responding. “Ah, so now you ask.”

You bite your cheek to keep a smirk of your own from capturing your face. “I didn’t realize you were actively trying to keep it a secret.”

“No, not a secret. I was just wondering when your curiosity would finally get through.”

You only hum in response, leaning away from the table, gesturing for him to continue.

He chuckles. “I know Willow.”

The words hit you like a train and the smile fell straight off your face. The girl that Bucky disappeared with, while you were still there. The girl that knew you and Bucky had something going on but refused to keep her hands off him. Not like he was any better.

He watched your face harden and sobered up a bit. “I also met her in college. She invited me to a few art shoes she was doing as an amature artist. I knew there was something else behind her innocence.” He leans forward and sighs. “But when I explained my obvious disinterest in her, she backed off and turned out to be a surprisingly good friend.”

Your blood sizzled, a twisting knot of hot anger coiling and moulding in your stomach. It wasn’t about Bucky, but Sam and just as the realization caught in your mind, your inklings of rage dissipated in a second. Why is it all about Sam this whole time?

You closed your eyes and unfurled your fist, the half-moons the only remnants of your restrained vexation.

Sam’s eyes drilled into your head. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft and deep, full of worry and anxiety.

“Yep.” You grit the words out between your closed teeth, allowing the flames to sputter and fizzle out before opening your eyes again. “Just...fine.” You peel your eyes open slowly and see Sam’s frown. Your face smoothes itself at his concern. You don’t like making him fret over you.

He doesn’t take your answer as satisfactory. “I’m sorry. I forgot Willow was a sensitive subject.”

“It’s not about Willow.”

Sam’s eyes lock with yours, the fire flashes behind your eyes for a second before you look away, waiting for it all to subside. Sam gently reaches across the table to you, brushing your blazing hot hand with his cooler one, trying to get your focus somewhere else. Where physical violence didn’t sound like a bad option.

“(name), look at me.” You strain against his voice, tears of frustration building in your eyes. He grasps onto your fingers tighter and tugs gently. You look at him then. “I’m not going to press you about what’s going on between the two of you, that’s your business, but I don’t like seeing you upset.” A soft warmth unfurls in your chest, smothering the wall of pain threatening to rise.”I’m sorry for whatever happened, but I am here to support you, even if we haven’t known each other that long.”

You laugh, it’s sad and bitter, but it’s better than crying in front of him. You’ve cried enough tears already over this, you don’t need more to the bunch.

But it’s nice to know that he cares about your well being and that he withstood Willow. It makes you happier to know that Willow can’t draw in everyone.

It just makes you peeved that it all comes back to the art gallery for her, that she feels she needs to get men this way. It should be about her work. It should be about something she’s passionate about, not just for an excuse.

You sigh and smile at him. Squeezing his hand, you manage to get out a sentence quietly. “Thank you, Sam. It means a lot.”

“Always.” His are dark and warm, filled with pools of light and sincerity. It gives the confidence to return back to the way you were. You give his hand one last squeeze before you let go and return to eating. Sam hesitates a moment, making sure you’re actually okay before continuing with his meal.

After finishing your food in a comfortable silence, the gentle movement of paper and liquid traveling through straws creating a white noise, Sam asks you one more question. “I want to show you a place next time. Do you feel comfortable coming with me?”

You smirk. “Trying to kidnap me?”

“Only if you’re okay with that.”

He smiles when you answer. “I’m down. Lead the way, Captain.”

…

Dance class provides a higher charge than originally seen between the two of you. His smirk lingers in your mind, making you tingle and blush rise. These aren’t things that you can really remember feeling with Bucky, but it’s been so long, how would you remember?

It’s probably a bad thing that you can’t echo thoughts of good times with Bucky, but maybe it’s just that you’ve never felt this way about anyone else before. Maybe these feelings are new.

Sam seems to feel the same way as you do. He’s not nearly as flirty or as talkative as usual, he doesn’t crack any one liners with you nor does he twirl you into any crazy moves. He’s all poise and following the rules, but his hands wrap around yours a little tighter, you dance a little closer, and the air hums with the electricity between you.

He stares more openly when all you can do is look away and smile.

Your steps are steadier and accurate. You don’t stumble around like you did the day before, and you and Sam move as one unit, gracefully weaving around each other, your feet like feathers spinning through the air.

The teacher smiles appreciatively at you and every other person in the class, every couple moves in sync. The whole class appears harmonious and balanced, more comfortable and less worried for your performance. It’s preferable to the rough nature of Bucky and the challenging environment of your job. It’s comfortable and nice, a place of relaxation and peace for you.

It’s a place to come and dance with Sam and forget everything, forget the world exists.

…

Sam’s jacket falls around your shoulders, a soft barrier against the cooling breeze of the sea. You walk side-by-side down the boardwalk, the planks clunk beneath your shoes and the breaking of small waves provides a murmur of background noise. It’s enough to create a pleasant space to take in the beauty of it all.

There’s nothing more delicate and beautiful than a beach at sunset. It’s no wonder you’re here with him; it’s oddly fitting.

“I used to come here a lot.” Sam quietly murmurs underneath his breath, just loud enough for you to hear but careful not to pull you out of your admiration too fast. “When I was in my head too much.”

You nod politely and keep watching the waves lap against the shore. You want him to continue on his own terms, you’d never force his story from him.

He clears his throat after a beat and drifts a little closer to you. Your heat grows for a half-second. “I used to be in the army and when you come back...life just isn’t the same for you anymore.” He sighs and your heart squeezes hearing the pain and the hurt in his words. “It’s hard to adjust and when life is too absurdly mundane, I’d come here. The roar of the waves could dull some of the noise up here.” He taps against his temple and smiles to himself.

You force yourself not to touch him, but it takes immense effort and your hand itches, pulls, wrestles against your mind's commands to keep still. You sink your teeth into the side of your cheek and hum in response to him, trying to keep your eyes from locking with his.

“Is it bad now?” The words slip out as your concern for him reaches a crux and not knowing is eating up every bit of self-control you’ve built into place. Your question lingers between you two, fragile and shaky, and you wonder if you’ve crossed some horrible line that you weren’t supposed to.

A feeling of dread wells up in your chest as he takes a while to answer, your face begins to drop and your steps falter, but then he shakes his head in disagreement. “No.” He chuckles to himself. “It’s been getting better these last few weeks.”

His smile holds a secret that is intended for you to understand, but you try not to pay it too much attention.

“You know, if you need anything, I’m here.” You fiddle with the sleeves of his jacket as you respond. “If you can be here for me through this Bucky mess, then I can be here for your bad dreams too.”

Sam watches you unabashedly and then smiles gently. “Thank you.”

You walk together to the end of the pier and sit on the edge, your feet reaching towards the waves. The wind here is colder, more cutting and you wrap his jacket further around your shoulders.

Neither of you speak for a few minutes, just letting the wind and the sea make a music of its own. It was this comfortability in the silence that you wish you could share with Bucky. You wish you could be beside him and feel the way you do now, safe and comfortable. You don’t have to fight against him or his antics, his cheating behavior and aggressive personality.

You could just be.

You could just exist in the same time and space and that would be enough for you.

And the conversation wouldn’t always drift to your mistakes and failures. It wouldn’t be made into a spectacle of hate about you living your life and trying new things.

But Sam doesn’t make you feel stupid or dumb. He doesn’t make you feel like you’re doing anything wrong.

Sam must have seen your scrunched eyebrows and critical eyes. “What are you thinking about?”

You sigh and fiddle with the palms sprawled in your lap. “My ‘boyfriend’ as you so affectionately call him.”

“Oh.” He looks back to the waves, steadily crashing but growing in intensity. The tide must be coming in. “And how are things?”

The mood changes. He grows more reserved, analytical and objective, like he usually does whenever Bucky’s name is mentioned. Your stomach twists. You don’t want him to close off or make him feel like he’s stepped on something delicate. You don’t want to hurt him with stories about him.

But you know that if you try to shield the truth, he’ll be just as hurt. He said he’d be there. You trust him.

“Tense at best.” You conceded, face sinking in despite the gorgeous scenery.

“Hmm.” He takes a breath and looks at your hands, balled together. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

He nods.

“I just feel guilty around him, like I’m doing something wrong.” It wasn’t because of Sam; it was because you knew your feelings were changing and they weren’t in favor of Bucky.

“Does the dancing thing...make you feel uncomfortable?” He spares a fleeting glance at your face and you watch his calm but worried eyes move over yours gently, just testing your reaction before he reveals the depth of his.

A similar alarm echoes off in your mind that this will have to come to an end soon, that this beautiful dream will dissolve from your mind. You don’t want this to end. You don’t like the thought of not seeing him again.

“No! That isn’t the issue. I’ve been more myself dancing with you than I have been around him.” You fiddle with your hands, a spike of anxiety rising at your confession, but you spare a glance in your direction to see him staring at you directly. A jolt flares in your core.

“That’s...reassuring.” You bump his shoulder, reminding you of how close you are. If you placed your hands on either side of your body, you’d nearly be touching. He smiles at your teasing. “But,” His tone dips to a lower pitch, a lingering sigh hinting at the transition from euphoria to reality. “As nice as that sounds, it doesn’t sound like you’re in a good spot.”

“We’re not.” Your face droops in frustration. “And I’m not sure what to do.”

He watches you for a second before he responds. “Sounds like you need to talk to him.”

When you turn to look at him again, the sun is splayed so beautifully on his features that he looks like an angel, swathed in gold and sunlight. You can’t stop staring. And even if he was embarrassed by your pointed gaze, he doesn’t seem concerned. He’s too busy gazing back at you.

You’re surprised when you start to lean in, but the thought only registers in some part of your mind that’s far away from the decision making part of your brain. What brings a present shock is the fact that he begins to lean in too.

Your temperature increases and you can feel your breath quickening, but you keep going anyway, ignoring the nagging feeling of guilt that’s increasing by the moment. Sam’s nose brushes against your own and your eyes begin to fall, but it’s as if your vision clears when your eyes shut.

You stop and he immediately follows suit.

But you take a moment to savor the feeling, being so close to him, being close enough to touch and hold. These are treasonous thoughts that carry a weight that you don’t fully understand, but it feels good. You haven’t felt this good being around someone in years, despite being with someone else all this time.

It’s horrible that you’re just starting to figure all of this out now. “Sorry.” Your whisper is jagged and breathy, but it’s all you can manage. You don’t think you have full control of your mental functions to do or explain more than that.

Sam seems equally as lost because all he can do is hum in response. You know his eyes are open, watching you, waiting for you to look at him, but you can’t. Because if you do, you’ll lose all over again.

“We should get back.” He stands and only when he isn’t in your sights that you open your eyes. You notice how the ocean quieted down, the roaring in your ears in your ears isn’t as loud, how the wind has died.

When you turn, his hand drifts in front of your face and you hesitantly reach out to take it, knowing the jolt that’s going to spike through your arm at the contact of your skin with his. It’s stronger than it’s been before, but he supports you as you stand like he didn’t feel it.

You straighten on slightly wobbling legs, still buzzed from a second ago. Only when he’s sure that you’ll be able to walk on your own does he let go, holding on for much longer than necessary. You miss his heat right when you let go.

He treds next to you faithfully until you reach your car. You unwrap his jacket from your shoulders and gently give it back to him, thanking him for lending it to you. You prod over to him and press a feather-soft kiss to his cheek, making sure to keep it to the appropriate amount of time, but wishing you’d just let it linger a bit longer. When you look back at him, a low warm heat spreads through your stomach at the way his eyes look like pools of fresh, heated chocolate, moving in elegant swirls.

You force yourself to turn away and get into your car. You give him a small wave as you pull away and then immediately crank the AC despite it’s only 50 degrees outside.

You can’t stop smiling, even when you make it back to your apartment.

#sam wilson #wintershade #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson being cute #blue shade #bs:sam #ms:blue shade #part 3 baby #It's been so hectic I'm so glad I pre-wrote like all of this #it takes so much stress away

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afterthelastreset · 4 years

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Krisei Zodiac Event Aries Week

Aries Zodiac Sign Info Gotten From:

https://www.horoscope.com/zodiac-signs/aries

“The first sign of the Zodiac, Aries are the trailblazers. Passionate and independent, Aries will never do something just because everyone else is doing it—a Ram needs to be 100 percent committed to the task at hand. Competitive to the max, the best way to motivate an Aries is to turn something into a contest. Aries will put everything they have (and then some) into winning. Loyal, smart, and impulsive, they always have multiple projects on their mind, and won't be satisfied until their work, social life, and personal lives line up exactly with the dream life they've envisioned. Those who are drawn to magnetic Aries may have trouble keeping up—but if they can, they'll have a friend for life.”

🔥Aries Week

Day 1: *when Susie Dares you on a blind date*

The candlelights were lovely tonight. Shining brightly against the otherwise dark room, making shadows dance across the walls and adding a certain flare to the whole scene. The few rays of light that didn't make the darkness dance were shining off the small pile of food in front of them, making them hungry. But he couldn't care less about those food right now, right now he was more nervous about the real gem in front of himself.

The monster’s white fur sparkled against his beautiful face, delicate pink eyes fluttered those lashes at him and if he wasn't already sitting down, he would've fallen over from nerves alone. Luckily being frozen meant he didn't have to worry about sweating in front of him. He had a whole new other set of worries though. Like did he put everything together ok? Did Susie warn him enough? Did she give him the right wine for this thing? Oh gosh he hoped she didn't give him apple juice. Not that the goat monster seemed to mind though. He was smiling that beautiful grin of his.

"I must say, Kris. I wasn’t expecting to be asked by Susie to meet a man in such a dashing suit.~" He glanced down to the wine bottle in his hand before back to him and giving a chuckle. Making him smile his nervous grin wider, "I never suspected you'd be one of such class.”

Kris chuckled nervously and pulled at the bowtie around his neck, "U-Uh. Y-Y-Yeah, I honesty didn't know if you'd agree to g-going out with a plain old human like me. ...UH! N-Not to say y-you're selfish or anything!" His face became more scared when he had realized what he had said. Holding his hands up. "I-I just meant that you might not have wanted to g-go with me since you're way out of my league...U-UM! N-Not saying you're one of s-s-shallow and stuck up nobles! Because obviously you're not!"

The monster chuckled at his obvious flustering. But not in a bad way, on the contrary. He thought this little scene was absolutely adorable. And the lengths he went through, though not as fancy as other dates he went on, it was still so sweet how he went through all the trouble of putting this all together just for him. Kris froze when he heard the dark prince chuckle but Ralsei didn't look mad in the slightest.

"It's quite alright.~ I must say the set up has been quite sweet thus far.~"

Kris stared at him in disbelief. "Y-You..You really m-mean it?"

He chuckled again. "Yes, and I can’t wait for this to happen again.”

“D-Don’t worry. That’s a promise.”

Day 2:*boldly taking the first kiss*

One moment.

That's all that it took. One small breath moment to have the two freezing up and staring at each other in silent shock. The two silently stared at each other for what seemed like forever- ....It wasn't supposed to happen you know. All this time just going through the steps together, gracefully gliding across the ballroom floor all alone..It was just supposed to help him learn, not to start gazing into each other's eyes for weeks on end in private after hours, admiring his strength. His booming laughter. His slowly steadying grace to the movements he was asked to teach the giant monarch. It was never supposed to come to a folly such as this. What cruel entity up above thought it'd be a great idea to push them together and set thing strange fate? If he had any sense, he would excuse himself, pretended it never happened, and move on with their lives...

But-

His paws slowly gripped tighter around him and one look already told him he couldn't get away even if he flung his whole body forward. Not that he wanted too anyways. Eyes slowly closing. The giant paws gently bringing them closer. And in a last flee from sane thinking or any other life boggling mysteries about this whole thing-

They kissed.

Day 3:*taking that bold leap forward and taking your relationship to the next level*

Bells toiled with the distance and blinding white decorations coated the entirety of Card Castle's halls. One could smell and taste the sweet smell of the decorative flowers and the amount of deserts on the table nearby. OH what a wonderful delight to the senses this fine day was. And it was all the better for the two who's the entire celebration was for. One couple who's hardships and difficulties were no match against their hope. WHo's love despite the impossibilities that should've been there to begin with, wasn't shattered or gone away. Oh! They were tested for sure. Thick and thin. With tears shed, labored sweat, and much fighting for it. But still gained none the less. A testament for the outstanding bravery they had faced all for this one important day they had only dreamt of until now.

But with the rings slipped on his fingers. The smile on his face. The happy tears making the make up drip down his cheeks. Happy sobbing and awes from watching crowds. There was only one thing he could possibly say to something like this-

"I do."

Day 4: *boldly choosing to leave your own world to live with the one you love*

The warm bed hugged their bodies as they curled up to each other. The soft pillows and mattress was supposed to bring one comfort along with the blankets in times of rest. That was their job. That's what they were supposed to do wasn't it? The comfort of sleep was supposed to be a relaxing experience to have for all. But unfortunately sleep didn't come easily tonight, not when the one next to you was tossing and turning, and eventually woke you up with his grumbling and kicking. Oh no it simple wouldn't do at all. Not just for his own sanity, oh he could worry about that later, but the giant next to him. He couldn't just leave that be. Oh that would simply not do at all.

Currently the supposed to be silent room was alive with soft humming and little mumbles of sobs and chokes. The larger of the two had himself buried within the comforting embrace of the much smaller man as he continued to let out the sorrows of that night.

"I miss him, Ralsei. I-....I sometimes f-feel like..I betrayed her with this!"

He shushed the human. Patting his back, "No, no thou didn't. he would've understood. he wouldn't have thought bad of you."

"I-I d-don't-..."

He shushed him again, letting the two of them slightly rock back and forth. “You’ll be alright. Im here to help you."

Day 5:* Ralsei makes a bold move to contact the human*

It'll be ok just breath. Everything was going to be alright. There was totally not a chance this was going to blow up in his face, and he had zero chance of really embarrassing himself again in front of a potential hero. Yep! All he had to do was relax and not do anything to embarrass himself as always. YES! EVERYTHING WOULD BE TOTALLY FINE!!! He gave a couple more big gulps of air into his lungs as his body did the usual totally not nervous habits of tapping his foot, and wringing his hands together as he nervously kept staring up at the large door awaiting the approaching two. There he was....The hero. Well heroes but he wasn’t looking at the tall lady. Instead at the handsome hero of sparkling red eyes and fair blue skin as he walked towards the dark Prince. Ralsei could barely speak. Thank goodness his embarrassed face was hidden by the cloak. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke.

“Greeting Heroes...”

Day 6:* Kris contemplates his own family and the one he grew up with*

How does one decide another's worth? How does one predict another's personality or their impact they leave behind? Well unless you can see into the future and know for sure what you're dealing with then you're in for surprises. Which is what happened to him not too long ago. He could admit(just to himself) that he never expected to be surprised by someone he originally perceived as an easy pawn to his own needs. He never expected to be the one drawn to something so opposite of himself. But here he was, one moment minding himself the next-

The small child happily laughed and hugged the other man who was holding him. A strange family to one seeing it from the outside, but one he was more comfortable and familiar with over time. One he had to learn to accept but it was worth it in the end. But that brings up another question. What exactly made up a family? Most would picture a small house with a picket fence, a mom and dad, and a little boy and girl running around. But truth is it's not always that simple. Family is beyond blood or marriage.

It's who's always making you smile and there for you.

Day 7: *A kiss during a play is a forward move*

*Highschool drama club au*

The bright lights on the stage was almost blinding to the eyes of the ones on stage, and the audience but they weren't important right now. The glowing white light reflected perfectly off the two as they stood there wrapped in each other's embrace. Of course to the audience this was just another act of the school drama clun, and the ridicules costumes they were wearing for said performance were uncomfortable, but the way they was being held. The way the dashing prince's outfit fitted him. The way the white light shined off his beautiful features, no matter how artificial this role was, was absolutely breathtaking to them.

His handsome smile and fluttering eyelashes were to die for.

"And so. The Princess was safely returned to the Kingdom of Monsters," the narrator shouted somewhere on the stage to their right, but they barely paid attention. They were more focused on what the last part of the play script meant for them and their beautiful goat prince afterwards. "And the brave Prince was rewarded with her hand in marriage. They spent the rest of their lives together and lived happily ever after!"

The audience cheered in celebration and internally so did they when the prince finally got the oh so awaited kiss that was so rightfully his. It seemed like years before they pulled apart staring into each other's smile.

"Happily ever after, My Prince.~"

"Happily Ever After to US, Kris.~"

@krisei-world

#KriseiZodiacWeek

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emeraldwaves · 5 years

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Title: Start of Something New Chapter 1 Pairing: Todomomo, side Kamijirou Rating: T Word Count: 2,864 Summary: Momo is thrilled to be spending her winter break on her family ski vacation. Even though she’s anxious about graduating in the spring, she’ll have time to relax, enjoy the slopes and hang out with her best friend. Shouto is not thrilled to be stuck with his father for the entirety of his winter break. It’s anything but a vacation. Even with his siblings there, everything reminds him of his past and he just wants to get back to finishing school and moving on. When the two continuously run into each other at the lodge, both of them realize their vacations aren’t going to be what either of them expected. Read on AO3 Ayyy I’m finally writing a Todomomo focused fic! @its-love-u-asshole read it ahead of time and @lainaraquel was so supportive of this fic and my ideas for it! It’s kind of shamelessly fluff and a high school musical reference but oh well! i hope people have fun!

Snow blustered by the window, and Momo watched her gentle breath fog up the glass. She shivered, though it was warm in the car. She could already imagine the sharp breeze nipping at her cheeks, her nose tinged red as she swooped through the powdery snow with her skis.

She daydreamed about her family’s yearly trip for weeks before. Sitting in class, her mind would often drift to the slopes. She could almost feel the wind brushing through her dark locks, the white powder covering her legs as she zipped down the mountain with her parents.

Pressing her finger against the fogged up glass, she doodled a picture of a mountain on the window, a small smile pulling across her lips.

The yearly trip would be a nice reprieve from her frustrating, anxious thoughts.

"Momo, darling, don't smudge your finger against the window. It leaves prints!" her mother chided, glancing to the backseat. "Take a nap if you're tired. We still have at least another hour left in the car."

Momo jolted, sitting up straight. "Yes, Mother, I apologize," she said, bowing her head. Her cheeks heated up. She wasn't a child anymore, her mother shouldn't have to scold her over something so petty.

She took a deep breath, leaning her head back against the side of the door. For as long as Momo could remember, her family took a two week trip to the mountains for her winter break. They spent the two weeks skiing, ice skating, and relaxing in the hot tub. It was Momo's favorite time of year.

Her parents spent the majority of their time working, and even free time often turned into extra work, leaving them very little time with their daughter. But on their yearly ski trip, most of the time belonged to her.

As a child, there was one year her parents pawned her off on a ski instructor, but after a few days of learning various techniques, Momo was proud to be able to keep up with her parents. Even as a child, she was focused and intelligent.

"Is your friend going to be here this year?" her mother asked, pulling Momo from her thoughts.

When she grew older, there were some times her parents wished to spend alone, which Momo could understand. They both worked so much they barely had time for each other as well. And so Momo spent her free time at the lodge cafe or recreational center, which was how she met one of her greatest friends, Jirou Kyouka.

"Ah! I forgot to text her this morning!" Momo said, pulling out her phone.

[Kyouka: 4 New Messages]

A small giggle left Momo's lips. It was no surprise Kyouka was already texting her.

Kyouka's parents were the clingy type. Both well-known musicians, their winter trip was time for family bonding, and Kyouka often begged to escape to spend time with Momo.

[Text from Kyouka]: Yaomomo, when are you getting here? I'm already dying.

[Text from Kyouka]: My Dad is suggesting our families all karaoke tonight. I only have so many ways to say no.

[Text from Kyouka]: I really hope you're at least on your way.

[Text from Kyouka]: Yaomomo, seriously! Where are you?! This boy just talked to me and I swear, I can't tell if he's cute or an idiot.

Momo couldn't help but laugh at the last text. Momo had to admit, the few times Kyouka was vocal about her various attractions, Momo found herself questioning Kyouka's taste, mostly in men.

[Text Kyouka]: Don't worry, don't worry. We're almost there! Sorry I didn't text back, I was a little distracted.

[Text from Kyouka]: Why does your family do everything in slow motion?

[Text Kyouka]: I apologize, Kyouka! We are really close! Mother said we're about an hour away!

[Text from Kyouka]: AN HOUR!? ...Killing me slowly...

She smiled, brushing her thumb over the screen. Her heart throbbed with anticipation. She and Kyouka only saw each other a few times a year; always on their two week family trips, and occasionally during summer break for a mid-year sleepover.

[Text Kyouka]: Why don't you tell me more about this boy?

[Text from Kyouka]: Ugh. Just get here. He works at the cafe, you'll meet him.

[Text Kyouka]: If you're really bored, you could tell me now.

[Text from Kyouka]: Nope. This is your punishment for being so damn late!

"I take it you two are making plans already?" Her mother's voice made Momo jump, clutching her phone to her chest.

"Oh yes! Kyouka is... very eager for our arrival," Momo giggled.

"That makes two of us," the woman sighed. Momo's mother never did well when they traveled in the snow. It was part of the reason they had such a late start; her mother secretly wanted to wait until the snow passed, hoping they wouldn't have to drive through the light storm.

"We're almost there, darling," her father reassured, and Momo turned her gaze back towards the window.

The snow wasn't falling very fast. It was light and gentle, though it seemed to be sticking to the ground. It was Momo's favorite kind of a weather; cold, but with a purpose, the ground snuggling in its blanket of white.

She let out a soft sigh, not wanting her parents to hear. As excited as she was for the trip, she hated the idea of it coming to an end. And as usual, Momo knew the time would pass incredibly fast, which meant returning to school for the last time in the spring.

A lump formed in her throat as she thought about leaving school. Of course university loomed on the horizon, so it wasn't as if she would be free from studying (not that she wanted to be). But the idea of actually furthering her studies, taking her one step closer to adulthood, terrified her. Momo had no clue what she planned on doing with her life, and university was a strong reminder of her unknown future.

This most likely wouldn't be her last ski trip, but for some reason, she kept feeling like after high school things would feel different.

"We're here," her father said, and Momo immediately pressed her cheek against the window, staring at the giant lodge in front of her.

It never seemed to change. The large wooden building which stood at the base of the mountains was four stories tall, balconies decorated by fairy lights. Large stone chimneys pressed against the side of the various lodges, and Momo could already picture the fire burning in the pits of the lobbies. Behind the lit up building, ski slopes cut through the mountain, separated by long strips of green trees. Various chair lifts and gondolas strung up the mountain, still running even later in the afternoon. After dark, a few trails were lit up for night skiing. For now, Momo saw a few small figures zooming back and forth across the slopes.

"It'll be nice to get out there tomorrow." Her father sighed happily.

"Yes, anything to be out of this car," her mother said, gently touching his leg. "Let's get checked in."

They pulled into a parking spot, and Momo stared at the lodge, completely lit up in front of her. The roof was dusted by snow and the sun shone, making the white power glisten with sparkles. Opening the door, Momo was hit by a cold breeze, but her heart felt warm, as if she was home.

Next to her, another car door slammed shut and Momo glanced to her side. Struggling to hold four different bags, a boy her age with perfectly symmetrical red and white hair stared at her for a moment. His eyes were two different colors, and they absolutely fascinated her. He also had a scar over his left eye, and Momo flushed, realizing her staring at his eyes might have been mistaken for focusing on the scar.

Really, he was quite handsome. Momo had never found herself drawn to someone so fast.

"Shouto! Hurry up!" A tall, gruff looking man stormed by him, pushing the lock on the car.

"Coming," the boy muttered, turning away from her.

"Momo! Come grab your bags."

"A-Ah! Right!" Her father's voice pulled her out of her daze, and she dashed around to the back of the car, grabbed her bags.

She glanced behind her, watching the boy walk away. It wasn't unusual to see new people here every year; it was a popular resort, and expensive, so some people made it a special, one-time only trip. However, Momo couldn't help but follow him as he walked away, wondering if she would see him again during her stay.

Shouto hated car rides, especially long ones with his family. They were usually deadly silent, or consisted of Natsuo loudly (and obnoxiously) singing along with whatever was on his iPod. Fuyumi would attempt to quiet him down, but eventually it would take their father's loud, frustrated voice to get him to stop.

Then it would be completely and utterly silent. So much so, Shouto could hear his own breath, as well as the soft breaths of his siblings, all of them desperate to expel the tension hanging above the car.

Currently, they were past the point of awkward silence, and Natsuo finally started talking again. Unfortunately, his attention fell on Shouto. "Do you even remember how to ski, Shouto? Mom taught you when you were so little."

Shouto's chest tightened at the mention of his mother. "I know," he muttered, turning his eyes towards the window.

"Hah? Shouto!" Natsuo whined and poked at his cheek. "What do you mean 'I know'? Do you 'know' how to ski still? Or are you just saying you 'know' Mom taught you?"

"Leave him alone Natsuo..." Fuyumi tried again, turning around from the front seat, and gently placed her palm on his forearm, pressing against it.

Shouto couldn't help but be jealous Toya got out of this trip simply because he was currently studying abroad and decided not to return home for winter break. If Shouto could leave and never come back, he would've gladly chosen that option.

"I remember," Shouto said finally.

"Oh! Well good then! I didn't want to have to teach you again!" Natsuo chuckled. There was no response.

Finally realizing he wasn't going to garner the response he wished for from either Shouto or Fuyumi, Natsuo lay his head back against the window and shut his eyes.

Relieved, a breath of cold air slipped from Shouto's lips. His father just happened to have the body temperature from hell, and he rarely remembered to put the heat on. There was no way Shouto was going to ask the man for anything either.

"We're almost there," Enji's gruff voice echoed from the front, causing all of the siblings to jump. "So you can all give it a rest."

This whole trip was a bit baffling to Shouto. Before, their winter trips usually happened thanks to their mother, and she was certainly not going to be there this time. Enji always acted as though the ski trips were the biggest burden on him. He didn't even seem to enjoy skiing, though he often bragged he was the best at it. He could've gone pro if he wanted or... something... Shouto usually tried to tune him out when he got to that point.

And yet, even without his mother, somehow they were all on their way up to the mountains. Though Enji chose a new resort this time, one Shouto and his siblings were unfamiliar with. None of them complained though; Shouto wasn't sure if any of them wanted to be here without their mother.

Shouto kept his eyes locked on the snowflakes swirling outside his window. His mother always did adore the snow. When the first flakes began to fall from the sky, she would rush to the window, her gray eyes illuminated with excitement.

"It's snowing!" she would call out, like a young child awake far too early on Christmas morning. "Come here, Shouto." Her small hands would cup at his sides, and she would lift his tiny body up to the window. "Soon," she said, smiling, "the world will be covered in a frozen white blanket. And we'll be nice and warm inside. But maybe... we can go out and play later."

Shouto's eyes twinkled then, his hands curling around the sill. His heart was always full of wonder for their snowy yard. His mother made it sound ethereal; a winter wonderland of adventures waiting for just the two of them beyond the glass of the window.

Things were different now. His breath, though cold, still fogged up the glass window of the car. The world a dull gray as it breezed past them on the highway.

Soon... soon he would be free from this car, and not long after this trip he would be free forever from his father. He could live in the dorms at his university and as far as Shouto was concerned, the further away from that man he was, the better.

"Are we going to be skiing all week, Father?" Fuyumi asked. "I was hoping maybe we could take a day for cross-country? Or ice skating..." His sister trailed off, the words left unspoken.

"Because Mother also enjoyed doing those things too."

"Do whatever you want during your downtime," Enji said. "You will be skiing at the designated times. I already paid for the tickets."

"I see," Fuyumi muttered, and Shouto saw her head tilt downwards. Fuyumi and their mother often spent a day together ice skating. Of all the winter activities, it was Fuyumi's favorite, and one she excelled at.

Shouto didn't love ice skating, but he had a feeling Natsuo would force Shouto to go with the two of them at one point on this trip. He supposed for Fuyumi, he could stomach it. In fact, doing various activities with his brother and sister would probably be far more fulfilling than anything their father planned.

"We're here!" Natsuo cheered, pressing his face flat against the window. Sometimes Shouto seriously couldn't believe Natsuo was older than him. "Look at this place! It's huge!"

Shouto leaned towards the middle of the car, catching a glimpse at the large four story lodge. His nose wrinkled. His mother would've hated this place. She much preferred smaller cabins, a more homey feel, than... commercialized lodges.

Then again, nothing about this trip was going to feel homey at all, so Shouto supposed this ginormous lodge was more than appropriate.

"Shouto, get my bags while I take down the skis," Enji said, putting the car in park.

It was always him. No surprise there. Shouto didn't answer and instead stepped out of the car, his boots squishing against the dirty, slushy snow beneath his feet.

He made his way to the back of the car and lifted up the trunk, pulling his own bag and the various bags Enji packed. Why his father needed more than one bag was beyond Shouto, but he didn't feel like listening to the man scold him if he didn't grab all... three of them. He sighed, slinging one over his shoulder, holding one on his wrist and the other two in his hand.

He used his elbow to slam the trunk shut and stumbled backwards, clutching two of the bags close to his chest as he tried not to fall. It was then, when he was making a complete and utter fool of himself, that he caught eyes with a girl.

She was probably about his age, and she was, well, stunning. He probably looked like a fool staring right at her, but her sharp dark eyes drew him in. Her pale cheeks were a bit flushed, probably reddened from the kiss of the cool air. Her dark black hair was in a ponytail which fanned out against the back of her head, and red, fluffy ear muffs covered her ears.

Their eyes met and she stared right back, her lips pulling into a curious circle. Shouto could honestly say he had never seen anyone quite as beautiful as her.

How lame.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but he had no idea what he would even say to a girl like her. 'Hello' probably would've been a good start. His throat felt dry, frozen in the cold air. What were words anyway?

"Shouto! Hurry up!" Enji's voice cut through his daydream, shattering it onto the ground. Shouto was thankful he didn't drop the damn bags.

"Coming," he muttered, reluctantly turning away from her. It was silly to regret it; it wasn't as if Shouto had anything to say to her.

"Momo! Come grab your bags." He heard a voice call from behind him.

"A-Ah! Right!"

He was tempted to look back, curious to see her one more time, but he supposed he might see her during the trip anyway. The lodge was huge, so the probability was low. But Shouto felt a little lighter as he carried the bags. The thought of seeing her again made his heart beat just a little faster.

Maybe he would survive this trip after all.

#todomomo #todoroki shouto #yaoyorozu momo #bnha #Boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #side kamijirou #ski lodge AU #winter fic #no quirks

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goodand-gone · 7 years

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if ur still doing prompts, "[slowly raises hand] yeah, so, does making out with the enemy count as 'fraternizing' or" for zutara pls??? love ur writing btw ^.^

ALRIGHT HI HOLY HELL AM I SORRY FOR TAKING 15353543643 YEARS WITH THIS PLS FORGIVE ME and thank u!!!

———————

The differences between this boy and the last boy she kissed are as vast as the ocean.

For one, his hands have barely moved from her waist. For another, he’s still kissing her like he’s afraid to really touch her.

Katara pulls back and looks at Zuko, really looks at him. He’s changed so much in such a short amount of time; with a full head of hair and a leaner frame, his face is thinner, his eyes older, as if he’s learned a thing or two about the world between now and the last time they’d met. She can still see the prince in the tick in his jaw, the way his brows furrow and the way his fingers clench in her tunic.

But the way he touches her… The gentle uncertainty has burrowed beneath her skin, much like the warmth of his touch has bled into her veins. He watches her warily, and she realizes he’s waiting for her to push him away.

Sadness lashes across her heart. Here, in the back room of the tea shop, in the darkness of the storage closet, she can see everything she missed that Zuko hid behind his armor and his fire; a vulnerable young man that’s never been touched like this in his life. A boy experiencing something that isn’t disdain and rejection.

Katara pushes Zuko back until he sinks onto the crate behind him. She climbs into his lap, smiling when his eyes widen in surprise. Her thighs bracket his hips, hands on his shoulders, and for a moment, she simply watches him, enjoying the look of shaken wonder in his eyes. She could get used to being looked at like that.

“You shouldn’t be here.” It’s the third time he’s said it, but his hands have found her waist again, fingers digging in just a bit. His voice is rough at the edges, an unsteady timbre that wraps around Katara enticingly.

She slides a hand up the back of his neck, letting her fingers bury themselves in his hair. It’s ridiculously soft, ridiculously thick; she curls her fingers gently. “Do you want me to go?” Katara asks. She leans close, mouth inches from his.

Zuko’s breath hitches. His fingers tighten around her waist, slide a tiny bit closer to her hips. “I-” He turns his head away, nose bumping her cheek. “You’re not supposed to be here, Katara. I’m the enemy, you’re fraternizing with the enemy.”

“That’s not what I asked, Zuko. Do you want me to go? Tell me what you want.”

He’s silent, but she swears she can hear the harsh beat of his heart. Katara lays her other hand against his cheek, her thumb resting against the corner of his mouth. His breath trembles in his lungs.

“I-” Zuko exhales harshly; she can feel his lips curling against her thumb. “No, I don’t,” He finally admits. “I want - I want you here. With me. J-Just like this.”

Her heart tumbles against her ribs. Katara allows herself to smile, pleased with his admission. She already knew; she can feel it in the way he holds her, can see it in the shape of his golden eyes, but to hear it is something else entirely.

Katara leans in close again. She presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “I don’t believe that you are the enemy,” She whispers, “Not anymore.” Her fingers curl in his hair once more and she kisses him again, firm, insistent, seeking more.

Zuko shudders beneath her. He opens his mouth to her, one hand sliding around to her back, pressing her flush against him. His touch sears her down to the bone. Katara allows herself to fall into him, to drown in the surprising sweetness of his kiss, the underlying desperation of his touch. Here, in the darkness of this room, they aren’t enemies, they aren’t pawns in an ancient war; they’re simply two people lost in each other’s touch.

#sflkdsagladsk did this even come close to what u wanted omg i really hope so #asks #anonymous #Zutara #zuko x katara #katara x zuko #zutara fic #zutara au #my zk fic #my words

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harley-quinnn · 7 years

Text

Princess of Gotham

Joker x Reader x Harley

Prompt: Can u pls write something where Harley and the joker fight over the reader thanks

{A/N} I wasn’t sure if you meant in a romantic way or not, so I went with romantic. If you thought of another way don’t hesitate to let me know! I’ll write another one for you! xo Harley

Warnings: Some slight smut.

Masterlist | Requests

“C’mon puddin’, lemme get a turn with her! Ya always get ta have all tha fun!” Harley whines from the office.

J was sitting down at his desk planning the week out for the two of you- a private island vacation for a change, courtesy of the man he killed just days ago. He knew you were dying to get out and relax, and for once decided to be thoughtful before you decided to skip out on him all together. You awkwardly sit on the couch in the large living room, gazing out at the beautiful penthouse view. Lights flickered on and off throughout the buildings and for a moment, you wondered what might be going on in another apartment.

“Harley, doll, what did I tell ya about tryin’ to dishevel daddy’s plans…” The tone in his voice was stern, annoyed with Harley. You could tell this would not bode well for her if she carried on.

“It’s just not fair Mistah J, I wanna take her out. Dancin’ or somethin’! She’s tired’a killin’ people for laughs, ya can tell! Just look at her!”

And so she carried on as usual, cruisin’ for a bruisin’.

The corners of your mouth automatically pull into a questioning frown. Did I really look that upset? It wasn’t that you were upset with murders and heists, really. You just felt stressed between them on occasion. They both have a thing for you, and you’re still adjusting to the lunacy that comes with that. Had someone asked you a few months ago if you’d have been in a love triangle like this, you’d have laughed and denied it wholeheartedly. But after a run in with them on a dark street, you found yourself to be the King and Queen of Gotham’s princess.

“That is exactly what I’m trying to do,” he growls, and you can just about hear his eyes rolling from the other room.

Suddenly, you hear a glass break, causing you to jolt out of the haze you had mentally put yourself into. You’re already picturing J’s amber liquid flowing across the opulent hardwood flooring in the office. You keep your eyes on the window, pretending to be utterly distracted as you hear heavy footsteps coming closer to you and a deep roar following behind it as you’re suddenly swept up into the blondes hands and being tugged out of the penthouse.

“Harley.. Maybe we should just stay in, all three of us! You know, it’ll be easier, more laid bac-”

“Forget about it sugar! We’re goin’ out! I don’t care what Mistah J has ta’-”

A loud yelp leaves your lips as you feel a hand clutch your shoulder, yanking you backwards and into his tight grip around you. As rough as he is, you can’t help but revel in his possessiveness. Harley’s face turns red as he begins to pull you through the door now, getting into the elevator, pressing the ‘close door’ button and waving at her with a sarcastic, manic grin. You can hear her screaming as she presses the button to bring the elevator back up incessantly. The two of you keep sliding downwards as sound of her frustration fades.

“Whadda’ya wanna do, honey?” J starts, taking your shoulders into his hands before sliding them seductively behind your back and holding you close. “Anything- we can do anything ya want. Just say the word, it’s done. Tell daddy, and it’s done, done, done.”

His tone was sultry, but pushy. You know he’s trying to get an answer out of you before Harley catches up, but the way he speaks to you paired with the look in his glacier blue eyes sets off grenades in your heart.

“I do wanna go dancing, but maybe somewhere other than the club for a change.. You know…” You bite your lip, hoping what you were going to say next wouldn’t offend your clown prince. “Somewhere classy.”

His expression tenses as he peers into your soul now. You just did exactly what you weren’t trying to, it seems. Quickly his face changes as the doors open and the blue and red harlequin rips you from his hands.

“See ya, puddin’!” She exclaims before skipping off with you in tow once again.

“I can’t take this whiplash!” You complain, following her as she, in a rough but still endearing way, pulls you out of the doors and into the bustling street. People begin eyeing the two of you, practically cowering as she drags you down the sidewalk. You smile at the passersby, attempting to assure them this wasn’t entirely against your will as she turns a corner into an alley that always leads you back to the club that J owns. You sigh, wishing silently for just a second that you could go back to the penthouse, slump into the couch and binge on {F/S}, your secret guilty pleasure that you only partake in when you’re completely alone.

J isn’t following as the two of you run between the doors of the club. It’s the middle of the day, so of course there’s no loud music, no drunk people touching each other and you, making J want to blow everyone’s brains out, and making Harley cringe. There’s just you, Harley and an open bar.

“See, we could have a ball, just tha’ two of us, sugar! We don’t need some island with Mistah J.” Harley muses, walking behind the bar and picking up bottles of liquor and syrups. Her eyes fall upon a glass jar full of cocktail umbrellas, and she reaches for a blue parasol and then a pink one before even starting the drinks.

You shrug and sit down, at least your mother won’t think you’ve gone missing for months on end. She just adored Harley, who often came over for dinner dressed casually with her hair pulled back when your mother invited you over and J was nowhere to be found. ‘Just for a taste of normal’ she would say.

“I could go for a cocktail I guess.”

“That’s the spirit!” The blonde perks up as she pours concoctions into two glasses and slides one your way, moving around to your side of the bar and sitting next to you.

Her small smile was heart melting as she absentmindedly tried her drink. “Not bad, maybe I shoulda been a bartender!”

You try your own, pleasantly surprised at the cherry and blue raspberry cocktail. You lick your lip and grin, “Maybe you should be!”

Harley giggles, leaning your way slightly and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I gotta admit,” she starts, “I’m gettin’ a lil more jealous than usual with you an’ puddin’.. No, I don’t like it. But I can’t help it!” She begins arguing with the voices that occupy her mind just momentarily before looking back to you. “Sorry.”

Her crimson grin widens as she leans in, dragging a finger across your cheek as she pushes a strand of {H/C} back. You lick your lips again just for a second as she leans in further, pressing her plump lips against yours with ease. Harley’s kiss wasn’t like J’s. It wasn’t nearly as possessive or needy. But it was loving, caring. You could tell her insanity wasn’t fully in fruition the way it was with J. And though she certainly was insane, she still had some wits about her.

You nip into her lower lip, hearing a small sigh and feeling it’s warmth escaping from Harley’s mouth. Your thoughts drift to what she just said, and you entertained the idea of Harley for a moment as her hand pulls you closer and her lips meet your neck now.

Harley. Just Harley. Without J in the picture. The theory was beautiful, but your heart begins to race in a sudden panic at the thought of losing either of them. The same theory with just J and not Harley was beautiful, and the anxiety begins to settle in as she works at your shoulder now. You couldn’t live without either of them. This was the one thing you knew for certain.

Boom.

“I should kill you!” J’s voice roared from the doors that just swung open, shutting loudly behind him as he steps in and walks towards the two of you.

You try to compose yourself again and Harley licks her lips with a smirk, like a kitten interrupted from her milk.

“Ya been tryin’ for years sweetie, that ain’t gonna change now!” She snorts, twisting around on her barstool and taking another drink.

“Please,” you plead as he steps closer to Harley and pulls her out of her seat. He looked like a rabid tiger, and she had just stolen the last of his food. “You don’t have to fight over my time like this, we can do something together, just the three of us.. I promise!” Your voice squeaks at the end, and you’ve found your place as the mouse in this wild food chain.

He throws Harley back down into the seat and looks towards you. His eyes pierce through you as they do when he’s thinking of something ferocious.

“And what do ya wanna do, sweetheart? With just the three of us?”

You swallow hard, breathing a bit staggered as you try to think of a master plan on a dime that would please everyone as he continues.

“Ya know we don’t share often, doll face, if ever. It’s just been her and I… you’ve thrown a little wrench into our system now..”

He twists your seat so you’re facing Harley now and leans down, placing his chiseled jawline on your shoulder as his hand slides down between your breasts and to your core over your skirt. He leaves his hand there, and you can feel it’s warmth radiating as his other hand tangles itself up in your hair.

The fire in Harley’s cerulean eyes flickers as she shifts in her seat, and you can tell he’s teasing her just as much as he’s teasing you, and pissing her off even more than that.

His hand slides past your skirt and onto your bare {S/T} thigh, and you can tell his eyes are on no one and nothing but his queen. You’ve become a pawn in their game now, a dirty toy, and you know there’s nothing you can do about it. You’d be lying though, if you said that you didn’t enjoy every single, aching second of it.

Harley’s legs shift open just slightly as she swivels in the stool, biting into her own lower lip. This causes him to slide his hand up your skirt now, not caring about exposing you as the fabric bunches over his wrist. You can feel something engorged on your back, and it doesn’t take even a few seconds to realize it isn’t his gun.

The air is heavier it seems, as his fingers reach your wet core, causing it to grow even wetter at his touch. He pulls your {F/C} panties aside as he watches her coming undone before him. You can hear a moan leave her throat as she slides off of the stool and onto her knees. Her stretches his finger, grazing your folds slightly as he gestures for her to come closer. You bite your lip now as she sits up, bringing her face closer to your sweet spot.

“Go on, Harls,” he rasps, his own breath heavy on your neck.

You whine slightly, wanting nothing more in this moment than to have somebody to something to you. She moves even closer, and your eyes dart to her blonde pigtails, then to her ruby lips that you’re about to share color with on a set of your own. You embrace the warmth of her breath now caressing your flesh, and you can almost feel what she’s about to do already. She parts her lips a little further as her tongue slides past them, gently flicking against the glistening wetness that now coats your folds.

J’s hand grips onto the back of your head heartily, and you realize he’s waiting to see her taste you even more just as bad as you want her to.

Moaning and already desperate for the attention they were about to pay you, your hips push just slightly toward her face, closing your eyes. You hear a short giggle, and much to your dismay, Harley suddenly pops up, now standing in front of you instead. You open your eyes as she places her hands on your shoulders as she squeezes them gently. J growls as he once again faces a defeat.

From the corner of your eye you can see her lean in to peck J on the lips. You sigh, a frown tugging at your {F/C} lips as you reach for the drink she made you. His hand slides from your inner thigh to the small of her back as you close your legs again. You take another sip and try to come back down to earth.

"Fine.." she coos at him, "We can go on your lil' vacation."

Harley was rarely the peacekeeper, but you can tell that the idea of endless cocktails and threesomes on a sunny getaway to a private beach had an effect on her as her eyes drifted towards the ceiling in an absentminded yet still thoughtful cloud.

"We can always dance on the beach," you say, pretending to be upset about your idea being thrown out all together.

You have to admit, you hardly ever traveled, and the idea of a vacation got you excited just as well. I guess mom will just have to wait...

They both look to you now, grinning their sinister grins as you stand up, smoothing down your skirt and rolling your eyes with a smile in return.

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