#no fainting here we die like men
Text
Tattoo
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader
Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.
Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.
Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘
“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off.
“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach.
You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse.
“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree.
You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that.
But you were so wrong.
As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint.
“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug.
“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.
"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him.
“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky...
Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath.
Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself.
Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn.
He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing.
He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person.
“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile.
And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk.
You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.
You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head.
“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot.
“Thank you.” You almost whispered.
Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.
You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo.
To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes.
“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away.
“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness.
“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”
Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.
“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.
“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”
“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it.
"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke?
Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session.
“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there.
“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.”
“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”
“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”
You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you.
The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over.
You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor.
“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected.
“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it.
“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”
“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.”
“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.
“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop.
“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again.
Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything.
You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes.
“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.
“No!”
“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one.
“I can do it myself!”
You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged.
Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest.
“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.
Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss.
He was good at it.
No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself.
“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.
You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop.
God, he must be big.
Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly?
“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.
“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.
"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question.
Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs.
Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot.
“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?”
“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.”
“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"
Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment.
“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do.
“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”
“Loosers.”
“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”
“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.
“Okay.”
Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.
With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died.
Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch.
Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit.
“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.”
"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips.
You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you.
The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place.
“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed.
You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time.
You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.”
“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold.
“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong.
"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?"
“I do.”
Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips.
Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs.
Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer.
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there.
Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip.
“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing.
With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress.
“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.
“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails.
“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time.
“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues.
When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside.
He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life.
Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could.
“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.
“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away.
“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”
“I want to cum. Let me, please.”
“Good fucking girl.”
Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder.
You both felt how close you were.
Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.
“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple.
“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.
Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…
“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”
“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you.
“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session.
“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.”
“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut#bucky x y/n#marvel smut#marvel fanfiction#marvel x reader#marvel fic#marvel fanfic
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Aren't We Just Terrified?
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader
Warnings: canon typical violence, hostage situation, blood, angst, death threats, Ghost going batshit
Words: 4.5k
Synopsis: Time is up...
You are currently reading chapter 13 of The Roommate Series
You weren’t getting out of this alive.
The moment that the man had ended the phone call with Ghost, he had broken the phone and threw it on the ground. He spoke quickly to the other men in Russian and you watched them walk out of the room without hesitation. He stood in front of you in the middle of the room, his attention turning back to you.
You swallowed hard, your cheek still stinging from his slap, as you waited for him to make his move. You tried to control your shaking, your eyes burning into his as he stared at you with eyes that made your stomach turn.
You had never known someone to embody evil until you had met him.
There was nothing in his eyes, a complete lack of any remorse for his actions towards you and presumably anyone else who had met the same fate as you in the past. They were dark, a void of blackness that unlike your Ghost’s eyes, was not at all comforting or warm.
They would haunt you if you ever got out.
He stepped closer to you and you pressed yourself against the wall, ignoring the pipes that dug into your back and the rope that bit into your skin. He kneeled in front of you, the gun hanging in front of him as he titled his head to get a better look at you.
You hated the way he stared at you. There was a strange hunger in his eyes, as if they thought of killing you sent a rush through him.
“A ‘college’ student, yes?” He wondered and you flinched. “How did you end up with ‘the Ghost’?”
You said nothing. There was nothing you could say that would help your case or Ghost’s and you were afraid that if you said anything wrong that he’d lose his temper. He showed you once already that his patience runs out quickly, so you weren’t willing to test how quickly it would take to make him angry.
“It doesn’t matter.” He tapped the barrel of the gun against your knee. “He won’t make the same mistake when he finds you, wherever I decide to put you.”
“But you said you’d give them eight hours and that I’d be let go if-”
“If they give it. You overestimate your value.”
He smiled and his eyes went black, an amalgamation of evil and viciousness as he raised the gun up to your face. He chuckled when you flinched and grabbed your jaw when you tried to look away and made you look at him while keeping the barrel in your line of sight.
A panicked breath shuddered out of your chest as you looked from the gun to him frantically.
“I never said I’d give you back alive.”
Your mouth went dry. You felt faint, from the blood loss or from the realization that you were about to die you didn’t know but if it weren’t for the fact that you were tied up to the pipes, you would’ve fallen over.
You couldn’t look at him as your body froze. There were no tears or shaking. You weren’t sure if it was acceptance or your mind preparing you for when the man would take your life.
Would he shoot you now? Would he shoot you at all? Maybe he was cruel enough to draw it out…
The man pushed your head away and stood up. You prepared yourself for him to raise the gun and shoot you, but he walked away from you towards the door.
“Preparations still need to be done.” He said and shut the door with a loud slam.
For a moment all you could do was sit there in silence. Your limbs were heavy with dread and you couldn’t move, your mind had gone completely blank. It was like you were somewhere else entirely, no longer inside your own body as you stared at the concrete floor with empty eyes.
You weren’t getting out.
You were going to die here.
There was so much that you still had left to do. So much that you wanted to do that you had waited years to do. It felt silly that you never went to college right after high school now that you were about to die. If you had, you would’ve had time to do what you really wanted to do in life and to go to the places you wanted to before you died.
But if you hadn’t gone to college when you did, you never would’ve met Simon…Ghost.
You would have never known him, the man you deemed to be the love of your life, and you never would’ve been able to become friends with him. All the time you wasted on the what ifs before you got together felt stupid now that you knew he loved you just as much. You should’ve spent more time with him, should’ve told him you love him more, should’ve told him you loved him from the beginning instead of waiting.
There was so much the two of you were going to do together. There were so many memories you were waiting to make with him.
The light flickered and caught your attention, bringing you partly out of your shock. You looked around the empty room, at the concrete walls that would be the last thing you ever saw before you looked to the rusted pipe that you were tied to.
You grabbed the metal and looked up at the ceiling where it connected to a series of other pipes. You gripped it tightly and gave it a harsh tug, watching all the pipes shudder from the force.
You tugged again. And again. And again.
You kept pulling against your restraints and the pipe with as much strength as you had. You listened to the creaks and groans from the pipes behind your thumping heartbeat and swallowed the lump in your throat. Your body ached, your head hurt and you felt sick but you continued to try to break the pipe.
If you died, you weren’t going to let it happen without a fight. You were going to fight until your body gave out, until you were too exhausted, until he killed you quick and easy.
You’re not sure how long you sat there trying to break out of it, an hour maybe even almost two, but every second counted. Sweat rolled down from your temple and you began to feel faint again, but you refused to give up.
Outside of the building you heard rumbling, a sound that you immediately recognized as an aircraft of some sort but you didn’t pay too much attention to it. There was no time to waste.
“Come on, come on.” You huffed out under your breath as you placed your feet against the wall and pulled back as hard as you could. “Please, please.”
The pipe dislodged and rattled against the wall. You fell onto your back and you took a moment to catch your breath as every part of your body felt heavy against the concrete floor.
The ropes were still around your wrists and burned against your skin. When you rolled over on your side you looked down to see some of the threads turning red from your own blood and you grimaced at the pain that coursed through you.
The men would come back soon and you had to get rid of the ropes.
You bit into them immediately. You tugged on them as hard as you could while you wiggled your wrists, ignoring the pain and the few tears that rolled down your cheeks. Before long, they were loose enough that you quickly threw them off and felt blood trickle down your wrists.
You stood up on shaky legs and rushed towards the door. A curse left your mouth when you tried to open it but it didn’t budge. There was no way out of the room except through the door and it was entirely made of metal.
You’d have to wait for them to come back.
You went back to the pipes and grabbed onto the one that you broke. You pulled hard and tried to break it off the wall in hopes that you’d have something to defend yourself with.
The pipe fell and you struggled to hold onto it from how heavy it was. The end smacked against the floor, causing the pain in your head to get worse and you hissed.
It was too heavy for your beat up muscles and weak state, but you couldn’t let go. You needed it, it was probably the only thing that was going to keep you alive when the men came back.
You heard footsteps outside of the door and you quickly moved behind it. Your heart beat so fast your chest hurt, and you tried to keep control over yourself and your emotions.
You don’t think you’ve been this terrified in your life. One wrong move and you’d be gone.
The door unlocked and opened with a loud squeak. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to ready yourself for a fight.
One of the men, the one who followed you at campus, walked in. He stopped when he didn’t see you against the wall and let out a loud curse in Russian.
You ran from behind the door and swung the pipe at him as hard as you could. He screamed when it connected with him and you shoved him out of the way. You didn’t wait to see if he would stand up or not, you bolted out of the door and into the hallway.
You sprinted down the hallway, unsure of which way to go, while the man yelled behind you. The walls of the building all looked the same. Every turn you took confused, yells echoed throughout the halls and you felt faint.
You eventually found the stairwell but just as you did, gunfire began to ring out. You jumped, panic flying through you,
Were they shooting at you? Was Ghost here coming to get you?
It didn’t matter, you weren’t going to wait to find out.
You raced down the stairwell, the gunfire in the distance sending your nerves over the edge. You raced down the stairs to get to the first floor. You had to get out, you didn’t want to be part of the firefight that was taking place within the walls of some abandoned building that no one even thought about anymore.
You opened the door out of the stairwell but just as you came out into the hallway, your captor turned around to see you. In the split second he saw you, he raised the gun and the bullets narrowly missed you.
You sprinted back up the stairs and heard him race after you. You slammed through the door that led to the third floor and entered a random room, two bullets hitting the door just as you entered.
It was an old supply room filled with crates and shelves that had dust all over them. There were old windows on the other side of the room that you ran to but there was no time to break them to jump as you heard his footsteps approach.
You hid behind one of the crates and tried to quiet your breathing. The door slammed shut and you clenched your jaw, thinking for just a moment that you could jump out one of the windows but you were already three stories up.
If you could sneak around him and get to the door, you could run back out and be free.
“You could’ve made this easy for yourself.” He said from the door before he began to walk through the room. “I would’ve made it quick.”
You listened to his footsteps and crawled around the crate away from his view. You tried your hardest to stay as quiet as you could while he made his way through the room searching for you. You jumped when he pushed over a shelf that clattered loudly but hid yourself behind another crate.
The door was still halfway across the room and it was possible he’d shoot you if you attempted to run right for it.
You eyes caught onto a rusty wrench a couple feet from you and you grabbed it just as he shoved another shelf down. Clutching it made your heart race more but you couldn’t allow yourself to hesitate; if this was how you’d survive you had to do whatever it took.
“You think that you’re safer with Ghost? You have no idea who he really is, what he’s willing to give up for his own needs.” He taunted and you scrambled closer towards the door.
You wanted to argue that he wouldn’t. Ghost had done nothing but make you feel safe, he would do anything to protect you, and you knew he was coming to get you. You’d never believe the words that came out of a man who kidnapped civilians.
He knocked over a couple more crates and a shelf, his rising frustration becoming more palpable. He seemed to get more frantic and you listened to him walk back towards the door.
There was no way around it.
When he got closer you jumped out from behind the crate and swung the wrench at him. You managed to hit his arm with it and the gun was sent flying across the floor as he yelled out in pain. You went to swing again but he grabbed your wrist and twisted it, causing excruciating pain to flash through you.
You cried out and dropped the wrench, trying your hardest to break away from him before he punched you in the face. You nearly fell to the ground but instead you grabbed him and dug your fingernails into his skin while you hit him as hard as you could.
Pure adrenaline raced through you and bit into his skin so hard you tasted blood. He screamed and you kneed him in the crotch as hard as you could before pushing him away.
You scrambled for the gun, falling onto the floor as you clutched it with an iron grip and turned towards the man. You aimed it the best you could, remembering briefly what Ghost had told you to do while the man quickly regained his composure.
The door opened and you pulled the trigger.
~
The helo had carried them to your location in record time, not even two hours had passed before they were flying above the empty factory you were held hostage in.
They were so incredibly lucky that whoever had kidnapped you didn’t destroy your actual phone or toss it at a different location. With little time Laswell had gotten your location and it wasn’t even that far from the location the man had given them.
From there they would split up. If they were being truthful then Price and Gaz would keep you safe until he got to you, if not then he’d find you in the factory and get you out by all means necessary.
The entire flight Ghost was on edge. On the outside he seemed as composed as he usually was, maybe just a tad more tense than he normally was but on the inside he was fighting to keep his sanity.
If he couldn’t reach you in time he might not recover. He might become someone who he had buried a long time ago, someone who had become so hellbent on revenge that he barely had enough to rebuild himself back again.
He’d make him regret it until the very moment he was buried six feet under.
“This is a rescue mission first.” Price’s voice cut through the comms and he turned his attention to his captain. “We get her out-”
“John, we need information.” Laswell interrupted and Ghost clenched his jaw. “We rescue the hostage but we keep the target alive. We don’t know how much he knows.”
“If the target needs neutralized then we’ll do what we need to.” Ghost said and watched his teammates glanced between each other.
They knew what he was thinking. They didn’t feel the same way as he did about the situation but they knew he wouldn’t stop at anything to get you to safety. He’d deal with the consequences later and he didn’t care what it cost him.
Nothing else mattered but you and he’d forsake the entire world if it meant your safety was guaranteed.
Laswell was quiet for a moment and he stared at Price who had a serious look on his face. Out of everyone, his captain would understand, it wasn’t like he had never bent the rules in order to achieve what he wanted or to save he wanted to.
“You have full execute authority.” Laswell said and that was all he needed. “But we need him alive, Ghost, do the right thing.”
The right thing would be killing him. The right thing would have never been putting you in this situation in the first place. The right thing would be fixing this entire mess before he lost you for good.
Price gave him a knowing look. He knew his lieutenant but said nothing as he addressed them all as the helo began to descend near the factory.
“Soap, Ghost, clear out any hostiles in the factory as you need. Local police will join you on the ground. Radio in once you find her and the target.”
“We’ll work on getting our own intel.” Gaz cut in and locked eyes with Ghost. Kill that bastard, he could hear him saying, take the gloves off and kill him. “Focus on getting her back.”
Ghost didn’t think twice to nod. He’d use his best judgment, try his hardest to compose himself because while you were in danger this was his job and he knew how easy it was to get a hostage killed. He had to be Ghost, which meant he couldn’t let his emotions take control of him even when he desperately wanted to destroy the entire building to get to you.
“Rog.” He said and the helo touched down.
Ghost and Soap jumped out not far from the factory. The moment his boots touched the ground he pushed his emotions away and focused himself on the building. He immediately set out towards it, clutching his gun as tightly as he could while Soap followed closely behind him.
The air was thick, humid and silent. He could see the police waiting outside the factory and he could only think about how much worse they were going to make this.
“Let me deal with them.” Soap told him and he couldn’t feel more grateful towards his friend. “You go ahead.”
“Thanks.” He mumbled and gave him a quick pat before he raced towards the factory.
He went around the back, searching for an entrance and found a door. Someone stood in front of it with a cigarette in their mouth and he pulled out one of his knives. He didn’t even blink when the knife sliced through the man's throat as he threw it and entered the factory.
“Moving interior.” He called into his comms.
“Right behind ya Lt.” Soap replied.
Ghost kept his gun at the ready as he entered the musty building. His eyes were trained down the halls as years of field experience drove him down one of the halls.
He didn’t have time to check every floor. Every moment wasted was a moment where you could possibly die. He had to think where they’d put you to keep an eye on you and limit your chances of escape.
Any floor above the first. There were four floors from the info that Laswell had found, it’d deter you from jumping out a window and make it harder for you to escape through the stairwells.
He found a stairwell and quickly made his way up without making much noise, all the while he kept his eyes and ears open for any hostiles. He went up to the third floor and began to sweep the hallways.
They didn’t know how many of them were inside. If they had any indication he and the others were inside, they might execute you before he can get to you first. There were two men coming down the hallway almost frantic as they talked too fast in Russian for him to understand.
He hid behind the corner and pulled out another knife. He waited for the men to get closer to keep the upper hand-
Gunshots from below sounded out and he cursed under his breath. Soap radioed in the situation and he heard the men start running towards him.
In an instant he jumped out from behind the corner and threw the knife, striking one of the men in the chest, before he shot the other in the head. It was quick and painless, more than they deserved for touching you, but now time was running out.
He began to check the rooms, getting further and further away from the stairwell. All of the rooms were empty and by the time he got to the other side of the building he was starting to lose some of his composure.
What if he had been too late? What if you were already gone?
There was a commotion at the other side of the building on the same floor as him. He heard two gunshots and then a door slammed before there was silence.
Ghost immediately turned back. He rushed down the halls, listening for whoever had run up here, hoping that maybe it was you, though if that was you being shot at it made his stomach drop. He checked the rooms he missed but every empty room filled his fear which only made him angrier.
You had to be here. He couldn’t have failed you, he couldn’t have failed someone he loves again…
He heard crashes in the distance that got louder as he got closer to the stairwell again. There were only a few rooms on this side and the closer he got, the louder the crashes got.
There was yell and then you screamed.
You.
Your scream sent a chill through his body and for a split second he thought about that nightmare. Your lifeless body, your life cut short because of him, him losing you.
Ghost sprinted towards the room he knew had you in and just as he kicked the door open he saw you shoot a bullet into your captors shoulder. Instinct carried him and all rational thought left him as he rushed up to the man and slammed his gun into his face.
He kneeled on top of him and raised his fist, striking him hard. He punched him again and again, letting the blood from the man’s broken nose and busted face drench his glove as he pinned him down against the cold concrete floor. He kept an iron grip against his and the man tried to fight back.
Ghost wanted to beat him to death, wanted to make him hurt a thousand times worse and make him pay for it. He nearly would’ve, ready to kill him right there in cold blood like a fucking murderer before he heard you behind him.
It was like he was pulled out of a trance.
He was breathing heavily as his fist shook, pain radiating from his knuckles as the blood made the fabric stick to his dry skin. The ringing in his ears brought him back to the present and he stared down at the mangled face of your captor who barely hung on to life.
He couldn’t kill someone in front of you. He couldn’t make this even worse than it was, he couldn’t hurt you any more than he already had.
Ghost shoved away from him and when looked back at you his heart broke.
You were covered in bruises and grime, but mostly blood. Your blood, judging by the matt of it in your hair on your temple, which had soaked your shirt. There was blood on your wrists and dried blood on your arms; you clutched your wrist and as you sat on the ground staring at him with fear.
There was no familiarity in your eyes as they bounced around his face, his mask.
Ghost said your name and he watched instant relief wash over you.
“Ghost…!” You cried and threw yourself on him.
He wrapped his arms protectively around you and kneeled on the ground.
A heavy weight had lifted off his chest as you clutched him as if your life depended on it. He let out a shuddering breath as he placed a hand on your head and listened to your sobs that echoed throughout the room. Feeling your weight against him, knowing that you were still there had him shedding a few tears of his own.
You were alive. Fuck, you were alive.
“I’m here.” He whispered to you as you shook. “I’m here, no one’s going to hurt you.”
Your full body sobs were heavy. Your tears soaked his jacket but he couldn’t care less as he tried to soothe you, tried to calm you down enough so you could at least breathe between the hiccups and your cries.
“Breathe, sweetheart.” He quietly begged as he worried more about you. “Need to see your head.”
But you were inconsolable, unable to control the torrent of emotions as the last couple of hours hit you. You dug your nails into his tac vest as if you feared he would let go of you and you hid your face in his shoulder, refusing to let him pull away to look at your wounds.
You didn’t care about your injuries, you just wanted to be held by him.
Ghost cared deeply. He didn’t know how long you had been kept here, how deep they went and how they might become infected. He knew they hurt and he didn’t want you to feel anymore pain, he didn’t want you to have to suffer any more.
His heart broke at the way you held onto him. At the state of you, at the fact that while you were still alive he had still failed you.
You had come into contact with his work, with the other part of his life he never wanted you to come into contact with and it had nearly torn you apart. He had put you in harm's way and now you were forever scarred.
“Ghost, how copy?” Price’s voice cut through his ear piece and he realized the gunfire had stopped.
“I have her.” He reported back and wrapped his arm tighter around your waist. “Target is incapacitated.”
“Rog. Helo’s on the way.”
“Prep medical.”
Ghost maneuvered you enough to where he was able to hook his arm underneath your knees and picked you up. He gave you a reassuring squeeze when you tightened your hold on him and walked out of the room.
There were so many emotions within him. He was angry at himself, guilt and shame festing inside him for letting this happen, relieved that you were still alive but so anxious about your state that he almost felt sick.
You didn’t deserve this.
Link to part 14
A/n: whoops wrote another fic of Ghost going batshit insane for you haha (it will happen again) Next chapter will be much, much longer I'm sure. also title may change idk
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#the roommate series#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley#call of duty#mw2 ghost#ghost mw2
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Only wastelands
I will try to do this Cooper Howard x reader in three parts, but I like the Ghoul so much, I might want to write more
People said Y/N’s neighborhood was lucky.
After a draw, they were selected to join a Vault shelter for free, if something dramatic happened one day, allowing them to survive.
Y/N had received the news with mixed feelings. She didn't want to die from a nuclear bomb, but she also didn't want to think about the possibility of a nuclear bomb falling on their heads.
There was no reason for this to happen anyway.
China and the United States had resumed peace negotiations. The war was going to end and everything would be wonderful. The vaults would then be of no use.
That day, she was washing dishes in her small kitchen. She lived alone, having left her parents who were in another state to settle near Lors Angeles.
Of course, she had first dreamed of Hollywood, and then she had been reasonable, finding a normal job, to live a normal life.
First there was the light. For a moment, she blinked, wondering if she had fainted. And looking out the window, she first saw the smoke in the distance.
Her neighbors were out, she could see them in the street which also looked towards the city center, and no doubt they were talking, but Y/N heard nothing, all her attention fixed on the smoke.
It was just smoke. She watched without being able to move as the cloud grew, before the shock wave reached her house, destroying the windows and shaking the walls.
Screams were then heard, in addition to the sirens. Falling to the ground in shock, Y/N almost didn't get up, but one of the neighbors, instead of thinking selfishly, ran to see if she was still there, helping her to get up and taking her with her to the vault.
Everything happened very quickly after that.
Y/N vaguely remembered those smiling doctors, who explained to them that everything would be fine, doing several exams before putting what they called a pipboy on them, giving them a ridiculous blue and yellow jumpsuit.
"You are now the inhabitants of Vault 8. What has just happened is a tragedy, and we are going to need you to ensure the future of humanity."
They were taken to a large room, with human-sized tubes. The doctors explained that they would be put to sleep, kept in the cold, safe, and awakened only on the day when it would be possible to go out and repopulate the Earth without it being dangerous.
No one could have known that they were not safe at all.
When Y/N opened her eyes, she had a hard time understanding what was happening. There was no light in the vault, except for the one in her crate which had just opened automatically.
Most of the boxes in front of her were open and empty. Then turning around, she discovered decomposing corpses in those that had remained closed.
Her cries of terror brought no one to come, because there was no one in the shelter, just as there were no resources, no water, no food, nothing. Because no one was supposed to survive here.
For two days, Y/N cried, not knowing what to do.
Then she decided she didn't want to die, not like that anyway, and she tried her luck outside. She didn't know how long she had slept, or what she would find, but she had to try.
Her pipboy quickly told her that the air was breathable, despite the presence of radiation in certain places. But that wasn't the most important thing for her, seeing the desert surrounding the vault.
The bombs had destroyed everything, leaving only ruins and sand.
Not being stupid, Y/N moved forward cautiously, trying to stay as covered as possible, even if it was difficult with her outfit.
On her way, she encountered two-headed cows, giant cockroaches, and other horrible creatures. No humans though, and she didn't know if that was a good thing.
With war, she knew that men could be much worse than beasts. Maybe they were all dead, from the explosions or all killing each other, or maybe they were still in the other vaults.
But life always found a way, even for assholes, and Y/N was attacked by three men while she was sleeping. Real savages, who talked more about eating her than anything else, laughingly ignoring her pleas.
“Now, that’s no way to treat a woman.” someone then said, stopping them as they were about to cut open her stomach.
"We found the bitch before you, pal ! Go get your lunch somewhere else !"
"Oh, but I think I found my meal. Mistreating a lady."
“You fucking ghoul !”
Too busy trying to get away, Y/N hadn't really looked at the man who had just arrived and was shooting at her attackers. Then, still too busy recovering from her misery, she took a while to raise her head, ready to thank her savior.
He didn't really seem surprised by her terror, although he grimaced as he watched her crawl away from him. She had to put her hand over her mouth to stop screaming.
It was impossible to tell if he had been burned or peeled, but the cowboy no longer had a nose, and his skin was in a catastrophic state.
As she stared at him with wide eyes, he watched her too, his attention settling on her pipboy.
"Ah. A vaultie. I understand the screams better. Never seen a ghoul before, sweetie ? Barely coming out of your little hole ?"
"… Sorry."
"No problem, sugar. You haven't insulted me or thrown things at me yet, it's quite polite."
At first, the ghoul was not very friendly. Yes, he had saved her, but he didn't want her to follow him into the wastelands. He didn't need a burden, and even less if it was a little rich girl.
But Y/N insisted, explaining to him what had happened to her, and the man looked at her with what looked like pity, muttering that she had ended up in one of the "bad vaults".
"I don't understand. What year is it ? Why is it only me who survived ? You… Sorry, what happened to you ?"
"Hey, honey. It's been over 200 years since everything blew up, thanks to Vault Tech. I imagine you and your friends were meant to serve as a pantry or an organ bank but like all their equipment, there's had a problem, and you were very lucky not to die like the others, and since you were there when everything happened, you should be able to guess why I am like this."
The Ghoul was gentleman enough to let her cry without comment.
The world was dead, and all because of money and power. Those who had sworn to protect them had killed them all. Nothing remained but an infertile, polluted, radioactive land, where the few survivors fought between factions instead of trying to find a real solution.
"Please… Don't leave me here…"
"You know, people didn't really like guys like me. It's not a good idea, sweetheart."
“They don’t like cowboys ?”
The question made him laugh. Maybe that was why he let her follow him. Or maybe because he wasn't as bad as he wanted to make out. Surely he felt lonely too, and it was nice to have someone who had lived in the same era as him , and who didn't judge him on his appearance.
Y/N didn’t understand ghoulophibia at all. Yes, they were scary, but that was no reason to mistreat these poor people.
"Okay, we judged on lots of things before, skin color, clothes, religion, but… Now, it's as if we were pointing at a cancer patient and shouting 'Look, he's sick Insult him !”
“It’s more complicated than that, sugar.” sighed the Ghoul, taking out a sort of hynalator to swallow its contents.
He explained radioactivity and the risks for him of becoming feral when they arrived in their first city. A chance for her to stay safe with people, their paths separating quietly.
But after three fights and an attack by Deathclaws, she preferred to stay with him.
So he taught her how to survive, use weapons, hide, follow a trail, earn caps. When asked why caps and not something else, he made a noise, saying he had no fucking idea, but men still wanted something to make business instead of helping each others for free.
After several months, he gave her a name. Cooper. Cooper Howard. He groaned when she asked him if he had anything to do with the old actor who did the Vault Tech commercial.
“Thanks for the bad memories, sweetie. An autograph ?”
“No thanks, never was a fan.”
"Ouch. Not even now, with my new look ? Do you think the cameras would like me ?"
“Let’s say that you will need less makeup for certain types of films, and a bag for others.”
Cooper laughed again, smiling at her with his slightly yellow teeth. It was obvious that it had been a long time since he had laughed like that with anyone.
He told her about his daughter after a year together in the wastelands. Handing her a photo, Y/N could see him as he was before, holding the little girl in his arms. They looked happy.
As she was about to give it back to him, he told her to keep it. It was the most important thing to him, so Y/N could keep the picture safe, and she would know that he would always come for her.
She muttered that she didn't doubt it anyway, putting the photo in her bag.
It was even longer later, when she had proclaimed herself the accountant of their small group, that Y/N noticed an inconsistency between the caps earned and the number of vials Cooper had.
“You should have five more vials.”
“Sugar, leave it.”
"No, really, I counted three times. I know the price by heart, you had fifty caps on your way to town, you should have fifteen vials. Is there a problem ? Has the price changed ? You… You Are you feeling well ?”
"I'm fine, sweetie. Sleep."
“But Coop…”
“Y/N, sleep.”
In the end, the price hadn't changed, Cooper was fine, but since they met, he had been spending his caps on non-irradiated water and food. For Y/N.
This discovery was a shock to her, who often watched him drink from puddles or eat human remains.
He didn't want her to do this. For her to become like him. When teaching her how to shoot, he added that it was just in case, because she wouldn't need to fight while he was there.
And now they were arguing about food, and he was ordering her to promise that she would continue to take what he gave her without question.
"You don't drink that dirty shit. You hear me, sugar ? Can you promise me ? You'll never drink that."
"… All right."
Their relationship was complicated. Cooper had probably told her everything, and yet he kept a distance. He didn't like her touching him, patting his shoulder or snuggling up to him to sleep.
Maybe he was afraid of making her sick. Maybe he thought she would rot on contact with him, and not just her skin.
Y/N really liked him anyway. They were both over 200 years old, even though she had been frozen during that time. They had spent a lot of time together. And even if she was still a little dizzy by his lack of nose, it wasn't the most important thing in a man.
It would have been two years when the raiders attacked. Far too many, so Cooper yelled at Y/N to run, to hide far away. He would come get her later.
Several days passed, and nothing. She was good at hiding, he had shown her, so it was possible that Cooper hadn't found her because she had become too good.
So she returned to the town where he came from, to at least find some informations. People did not easily forget the passage of The Ghoul.
But she didn't have to ask. She saw him in the bar, drinking and chatting with several guys.
Silent, discreet as a shadow, she came close enough to hear, thinking that he was in the middle of an business, and that she could surprise him when he finished with a beautiful reunion.
“You really don’t know where she is, Ghoul ?”
"Nah. Look guys, I know she was a real lil puppy that followed me everywhere, but I finally got rid of her, so I don't really care where she is. Not my problem. It was fun at first, but good riddance.”
She had seen the bomb fall, she had seen the bodies of her neighbors, but Y/N had never felt so bad as in that moment. She could feel her heart breaking in her chest, as Cooper and the others laughed together, mocking her.
Once, he had said that she should never trust anyone. It was an important rule to survive. But Y/N never believed that rule would include him.
With her bag and her weapon, she ran into the night, alone in the middle of the wasteland for the first time since she left her vault, and completely unaware of what she was going to do.
Only one thing was certain, she would never see Cooper Howard again.
#fallout#the ghoul#cooper howard#cooper howard imagine#cooper howard fanfiction#cooper howard x reader
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Just because I'm bored, I sometimes go back to old leaks about season 2 of HOTD. I found the two I used to be most interested in and compared them with each other. I found them both on Reddit. One was released in February 2023 and the other in April of the same year. Here are the conclusions:
1. Rhaenyra vs Daemon
The first one says that Rhaenyra and Daemon will argue about actions taken during the war, which ends with Daemon slapping her in the face.
The second describes Rhaenyra over a table with a map of Westeros. Rhaenys and Daemon are with her. Daemon states that he has told Rhaenyra many times to send assassins to Aegon and Aemond, but she has refused each time. Rhaenys replies that they would be cowards if they attacked Alicent's sons in such a manner. Rhaenyra agrees with her and says that she would rather Aegon and Aemond die in battle than in the Red Keep. Rhaenyra also adds that it would have been better if Helaena had married Jacaerys. At which Daemon insults Helaena with ugly words, Rhaenyra tries to silence him, but Daemon continues by claiming that as long as Aegon's son lives the succession crisis will continue. Rhaenyra responds that killing the child is a low act and that they would be better off taking Jaehaera hostage until the Greens agree that the little princess should marry Joffrey and Aegon gives the throne to Rhaenyra. Rhaenys agrees with this idea. Daemon, on the other hand, is against it and insults Jaehaera. Rhaenyra is angry with Daemon and tells them both to leave, addressing Daemon that they will discuss the matter later.
Both leaks indicate that Rhaenyra and Daemon will come into conflict. The latest leak also indicates that Daemon will use some form of physical violence against Rhaenyra, again.
The second leak is very informative, and when I remembered it now I realised that a similar scene was shown in the last teaser.
In the picture we see Rhaenyra over the map, Daemon and Rhaenys, but also Ser Erryk. Rhaenys looks like she's looking at someone, so there may be someone else with them. Nevertheless, the discussion described could still happen in this teaser scene between the three.
2. Aegon and Helaena
The first leak describes Aegon at a meeting of the Small Council, attended by Otto and Tyland Lannister, among others. The men are discussing among themselves, while Aegon sits quietly with his hands on the table. They are discussing the death of Lucerys. Suddenly a guard appears and announces that the Queen (Helaena) needs urgent attention. Aegon says "If Aemond can kill one puppy, we can kill more", then apologises and leaves. Aegon then goes to see Helaena, who is with Alicent. Helaena faints, reaching out her hand to Aegon, and he catches her. Alicent informs Aegon that Helaena is pregnant.
The second leak describes a similar situation, only starting with what happened earlier. Helaena is in the chamber along with Alicent, the twins and the maester. The maester informs Alicent that Helaena is pregnant. Helaena smiles and says to Alicent that she wished she had been the first to know and that she would have told Aegon the news. Alicent is nevertheless concerned as she wonders what will happen if a boy is born. Helaena replies that she wouldn't mind another boy, but Aegon would prefer a girl, as Jaehaera is his favourite child. Alicent then tells the guard to summon Aegon to the chambers so she can tell him the news. Then a scene similar to the one in the first leak is described. We see Aegon at a meeting of the Small Council, playing with glass of wine. The council members discuss matters of trade amongst themselves, including Tyland Lannister, but Aegon replies that for all the extra money they should hold a tournament and that he would rather ride his dragon Sunfyre than attend a meeting. Criston Cole then appears and informs Aegon that he is expected in his chambers. Tyland Lannister jokes and says that apparently Queen Helaena needs urgent attention.
It seems that Maelor had not yet been born at that time. There is no description of him being in the chamber with Helaena and Alicent next to Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.
We also see Aegon interested in his wife, and we also learn that Jaehaera is his favorite child, so Aegon needs to spend time with his children to be able to determine who he likes more. Although this does not mean that he does not love his son. Maybe he prefers his daughter because she is not the heir to the throne? Aegon didn't have a good relationship with Viserys, maybe that's why he doesn't know how to deal with his son. Or maybe little Jaehaera reminds him of sweet and innocent Helaena? I leave this to everyone's own interpretation.
Most importantly, the description of Aegon's participation in the Small Council closely matches the scene from the teaser.
We see someone with his hands on the table, playing with a ball. There seems to be a cup next to him? Additionally, this person's outfit matches Aegon's outfit in another scene when he sits on the Iron Throne.
“Aegon sits quietly with his hands on the table.”
“We see Aegon at a meeting of the Small Council, playing with a glass of wine.”
In the photo we see hands on the table and probably a glass of wine next to the person. Which fits the descriptions I mentioned earlier from both leaks. It seems that the things described in both leaks may be accurate to some extent. And that's very interesting.
3. Blood and Cheese
Blood and Cheese was only described in the first leak, but it connects to the scene described in the second one, which I wrote about at the beginning. The leak informs us that the entire event will take place in the middle of the night. Helaena will be with her children in some aisle and they will talk. Suddenly Helaena hears voices and starts calling for Aegon and Aemond. When Blood shows up, Helaena grabs her children and starts running. However, Blood stops her and grabs her by the hair, while Chees rips Jaehaerys from her arms. Blood tells Helaena to give them Jaehaera or he will rape them both, but Helaena refuses. Cheese tells Blood to let it go because they have a boy and that's enough. As they leave, Helaena screams and her children cry. Cheese wants to run away with the boy in his arms, but Blood slits little Jaehaerys' throat. Helaena and Jaehaera scream. It also says "Cheese doubts before running."
Now I will not consider the event itself, why they decided to change it and so on (if this version is true). Let's focus on relating this version to the conversation between Rhaenyra, Rhaenys and Daemon.
“Daemon continues by claiming that as long as Aegon's son lives the succession crisis will continue. Rhaenyra responds that killing the child is a low act and that they would be better off taking Jaehaera hostage until the Greens agree that the little princess should marry Joffrey and Aegon gives the throne to Rhaenyra. Rhaenys agrees with this idea. Daemon, on the other hand, is against it and insults Jaehaera. Rhaenyra is angry with Daemon and tells them both to leave, addressing Daemon that they will discuss the matter later.”
“Cheese doubts before running”.
“Blood tells Helaena to give them Jaehaera or he will rape them both, but Helaena refuses. Cheese tells Blood to let it go because they have a boy and that's enough.”
What I will describe now is my own theory, which does not necessarily have to be true. Just speculation regarding the information mentioned above.
It appears that Rhaenyra was involved in renting Blood and Cheese as well as Daemon. However, they both had different goals. It is possible that Rhaenyra actually wanted to kidnap Jaehaera to hold her hostage, and maybe even kidnap Jaehaerys, if possible, to keep the Greens in her grasp. If we assume that Rhaenyra's target was only Jaehaera, it would explain why Blood insisted that Helaena give her to them. However, Cheese, seeing that Helaena was adamant and having Jaehaerys in his arms, quickly calculated that the boy was definitely a better option, so he says that it will be enough.
It is also said that Cheese wants to run away with the boy he was holding in his arms. So he probably didn't want to hurt him at that moment, or he didn't want to hurt him at all and deliver him to Rhaenyra safe and sound. However, Blood has other plans, he kills the boy and runs away. "Cheese doubts before running." Is this an indication that Cheese was surprised by Blood's action?
Now, my theory. Blood and Cheese were hired by Rhaenyra and Daemon, but it was Daemon who used Mysaria to find suitable candidates for the job. Rhaenyra just applauded. Kidnappers are kidnappers, if Daemon chose them it means they were good at their craft. Rhaenyra orders them to kidnap Jaehaera. However, Daemon has other plans, which only Blood informs about. He secretly tells Blood to kill Jaehaerys, and maybe even Jaehaera. I wouldn't be surprised if he also ordered him to rape Helaena and her daughter, especially since he had previously insulted them in leaks. So we have Cheese, who was going to follow Rhaenyra's orders, and Blood, who was initiated by Daemon and was going to kill the little prince, and maybe the princess.
Again, I leave it up to your interpretation.
An interesting thing is that, according to the leak, Helaena was supposed to be in the aisle during the attack. Where was she going with her children? Was she returning from Alicent? Or maybe she was just going to her, like in the book? In the book, Blood and Cheese attacked Helaena and her children in Alicent's chambers, where they were waiting for them. It's different here. Will Helaena be walking through the halls with her children and then they will be attacked? Or maybe she wasn't coming back from Alicent but from Otto? In the book, Helaena took often the children to Viserys, but this is not the case in the series. Viserys ignored Helaena, but Otto clearly had a good relationship with her. Maybe Helaena took her children to Otto, who told them stories, just like Viserys did in the book?
There is a scene of Helaena with one of the attackers in the teaser, but you can't see where she is in the background. The image is blurry.
Maybe Helaena is in some chamber and I'm misinterpreting the word "aisle". You'll have to forgive me, English is not my native language. Despite everything, this word was used in the leak.
4. Daeron the Daring
And finally, Ladies and Gentlemen, He.
In the first leak, we have information that Daeron will make his screen debut in Oldtown with Ormund and Garmund Hightower. Daeron and Ormund plan to travel to King's Landing to return Daeron to his family. Daeron says he can fly there on his dragon to greet Aemond and Vhagar.
The second leak describes a conversation between Aegon and Aemond, in which Aegon states that he is glad that for once their mother's anger is not directed at him, but at Aemond (referring to what Aemond did to Luke). Aemond is not happy about this comment. Aegon sees this and feels bad for saying it and tries to comfort Aemond by stating that Alicent's anger will eventually pass, as Aemond and Daeron are her favorite sons and Helaena is her favorite child. In turn, Aemond replies that Aegon is their mother's favorite child, to which Aegon does not answer. Aemond changes the topic of the conversation by saying that Daeron will arrive soon and that Alicent will forget what Aemond did.
In both leaks, we have confirmation of Daeron's existence in the series. Which is very optimistic. I know a lot has been said about Daeron, and most people seem to think that he won't be in the series at all or that he won't appear until season 3. However, let's focus on the optimistic version that Daeron, according to these leaks, will appear in season 2, one way or another.
Summary
Both leaks mention a few other things, but I decided to choose the most interesting ones. Interestingly, it is impossible not to notice that both of them overlap to a greater or lesser extent. It is likely that they come from one source, but different people had access to more or less details. Or they subjectively chose what might be the most interesting for us. I returned to them several times over the months until I finally decided to compare and combine them. Long post, but I hope it was entertaining for you. The closer we get to the premiere of season 2, the longer the days get. That's why I'm coming to you with this piece of information. Maybe you have your own thoughts or know more than me. I encourage you to refer to this.
I'm not saying everything here is true. Maybe it's all a lie. I don't know the exact sources of this information, I'm just quoting what I once found on Reddit. Some of you have probably heard about it. Think of it as fun. Let's hope that season 2 will be better than all the leaks that have appeared in recent months and that they will really surprise us with something good. Hopefully.
Let’s stay together because...
The Night Is Dark And Full Of Terrors.
#house of the dragon#daeron targaryen#aegon ii targaryen#hotd season 2#aemond targaryen#helaena targaryen#rhaenyra targaryen#daemon targaryen#daeron the daring#daemon x rhaenyra#aegon x helaena#daemyra#helaegon#jaehaerys targaryen#jaehaera targaryen#alicent hightower#otto hightower#maelor targaryen#hotd leaks#blood and cheese
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On my nerves. (Steve Rogers One-shot)
Summary: Y/N and Steve have a complex relationship. On a busted mission, some conversation pieces come up that need to be solved.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (Avenger)
Word Count: 3100+
A/N: I did a small poll on who I should write for next, and I got an even amount of votes, so I decided on Steve! I haven't written for him for a long time and thought it was deserved this long in. So enjoy these fluffy enemies to semi-lovers one-shot :)
______________
Steve watched, as if in slow-mo, as a knife passed his face and embedded itself into the chest cavity of a man close to getting the jump on him.
"So much for having this mission in the bag, huh?" Y/N's sly comment followed as she jumped from a banister down to the level Steve was on in the attic of an old church.
"The rule was no killing," Steve grunted in frustration as the man he had grasped by the neck fainted, and he tossed him to the side.
"Yeah, well, someone was going to die, and it was either him or the person who's supposed to be running this mission. You should be grateful I didn't choose the second option," she smirked, straightening her tactical vest as she scanned their surroundings. "What's the update?"
Steve could have reprimanded her more, as he was used to doing, but they were on a time crunch, and the men they were sent to take in under SHIELD's order hadn't gotten the memo of no killing.
"Masgood isn't here," he sighed, swiftly anchoring his shield to his back. "He must have gotten word we were coming and staged the place to look like he'd be here."
"Yeah, it seems to be his MO," Y/N sighed, bending as she dug through the pockets of the unconscious assailant.
"What are you doing?"
"Checking the body for clues, duh," she replied with a tone of disinterest. She paused, looking up at Steve. "I know this isn't your first rodeo, so why are you acting like it?" One of her forearms rested on her knee as she squatted over the body and dug through his pockets unbothered.
Steve rolled his eyes and shifted on his feet as look at the space. "Something feels off about all this."
"When does it not? We chase bad guys with evil and sadistic intentions as our career. I'd be worried if it felt right," she grunted softly as she stood up and moved to another body.
Steve moved to a window off to the side and looked at the street and environment below for any more clues.
Their target was a man in charge of a large human trafficking ring. Ivan Masgood. An infamous drug lord who started poking around in a new field of illegal activities. Like most felons, he had personal goons and connections that kept him close to untouchable, but SHIELD had plans to shut that down now that he was tapping into the stealing of innocent adolescents from the streets.
"I say we tie these idiots up for the agents that'll come clean up this mess and make our way to the restaurant down a few blocks. Looks like a good Mediterranean place," she sighed, walking over and leaning against a pillar behind the window where Steve was monitoring pedestrians.
Steve turned to her with an annoyed face, one that was a staple for their duo and eyed her.
"We're on a job. A job that involves a man who is taking advantage of innocent children."
"Yes, and we can't solve it on an empty stomach," she shrugged, pushing on the wood. "And this place is empty. We've handled the few goons here, and now we move on."
"Is it really that simple to you?" Steve huffed, crossing his arms as he turned to her.
"If by simple you mean the practiced next step, then yes. It is," she nodded with no hesitance, even with his stern glare fixed on her.
"You're impossible to-"
"Shhh," she hushed, raising her hand and slightly turning her head.
Steve knew better to question her when she did that. Her hearing was better than his most of the time. Her enhancements weren't far from his own, but sometimes they proved to be even more sensitive than his.
He mouthed a "What?" and she shook her head as a hint to hold on. A few moments passed before she shook her head and returned to reality.
"False alarm," she turned, looking at the only door in and out of the attic. "Help me tie these assholes up, and then we're getting dinner."
"Y/N," Steve started, but she ignored him and searched for rope or anything of length to keep them secure.
Three men tied up with both electric chords and Christmas lights were still unconscious as Steve called in the clean-up crew that was there minutes after Y/N and Steve were in the front of the church, giving a quick rundown of their mission.
"It was a 50/50 shot, Cap. Can't get too hung up on it," Rodney, one of the agents who had been working on the case with them, assured.
"Doesn't make it any less frustrating," Steve sighed before grunting at the pressure hitting his chest. He looked down to see Y/N holding a pile of clothes on his sternum.
"Change. We have a date," She grinned, already in street clothes herself.
He gave her a once over and noticed the small grin on Rodney's lips before he quickly walked away.
"Y/L/N!" Steve yelled after her as she turned and was already moving on to her next task. He groaned and slumped as he looked at the jeans and baseball Henley picked out for him. A hat and sunglasses paired on top.
__________
"Why are we here?" Steve grumbled under his breath as they sat in a booth at the Mediterranian restaurant that looked family-owned but had the ambiance of a well-off family—the two fit in a way that raised a few questions.
He wasn't sure how she had managed to drag him there, but either way, he was there, and something about Y/N orchestrating this entire meal left him confused.
"I haven't had a full meal since last night," she answered, staring at the menu before grabbing the waitress's attention as she balanced two plates in hand. "Can we get the drink menu, please?"
"I'll grab it on my way back," she smiled kindly, her voice accented with a Grecian tongue.
"Thank you," Y/N smiled back kindly and went back to the menu. "I heard their Sangria is amazing. And it's homemade."
"Y/N," Steve ground through his teeth. He was fed up with this side quest that served no purpose. "What are we doing here?" he articulated each word.
"Jeez, Cap. Get the popsicle stick out of your ass and relax some. We're just having dinner and waiting for the show," she responded, putting the plastic-covered menu down and throwing her arm over her side of the booth.
"What show-"
"Drinks?" a teenage boy who looked to be one of the owners' kids begrudgingly asked for their orders.
"I'll take water for now, and this one will have a double scotch neat to help ease his never-leaving glower," she smiled up at the kid, who just blinked at her, and Steve burned holes in her head from the side. "Water. We'll both do water."
"Right…" the kid grumbled, not bothering to write the order as he stalked off.
"You said this had to do with the case. That's the only reason I'm here," Steve intertwined his hands on the table and took a breath as he watched her. In truth, she had vaguely mentioned something about the case, and he ran with that one bullet point, which put him in this position.
"Tell me. How does one sign up to gain your trust? Do I have to jump in the line of fire a second time to get it, or is it like whoever gets your coffee order right without asking? Maybe something in between there?" she leaned forward on the table.
Six months ago, Y/N had jumped in front of a blast from a mutant's powers for Steve, and it had benched her for over a week with the aftereffects.
He hadn't expected her to make that kind of sacrifice, and he had been more than grateful and did his best to show it during her healing time and afterward. But at the end of the day, her snarky comments, struggle to stay professional, and blatant disregard for orders made it hard for him not to be aggravated when she did things.
"It's not trust as much as it's being out of the know for what the real reason for us being here is," he softly said when she looked at him with eyes that seemed to genuinely want to know why he treated her with little patience where he normally gave it freely. "I like to be informed."
She watched his eyes closely as if waiting for the but, but then she tensed ever so slightly, and her eyes flicked behind his shoulder casually.
"That's also known as trust. Not knowing the reasons but counting on the person putting you in the position that they wouldn't do it with ill intent. But if you want your answer, it's behind you. Careful how you turn," she said with a straight face as she looked out the window next to them.
Steve furrowed his eyebrow but discreetly twisted enough to see what she was alluding to.
There he was. Ivan Masgood. With four bodyguards around him and a few associates coming through the back entrance, one of the employees ushered him to a secluded corner for him and his posse.
When Steve turned back around, Y/N was on her phone as if just another customer waiting for their meal.
"How'd you-?"
"I'm good at my job despite what some think." Her comment wasn't missed by Steve, and he could hear the slightest bit of pain in her words. "I overheard some of his goons talking not so confidentially at the church. He stupidly gave away their Randevu point and mentioned a meeting with a potential contact while they waited for us to fall for the trap."
"Was it the two at the front door?" Steve questioned, thinking back to their infiltration of the church/ hideout.
"Yeah, dumb and dumber. I think they just got promoted cause the one who leaked this info bragged about being moved to guard his private residence." She put her phone away and fiddled with the paper wrapper from the straw as she explained. "I can promise if they figure out how we got the intel to come here, he will not be guarding any residence in the near future."
Steve was a little surprised. Y/N had always been good at her job. Hell, there was a reason she ran with The Avengers themselves. Super enhancements helped, but she'd always been more than resourceful in her spying, too.
But sometimes, he didn't see her as taking her job seriously, so when she got the jump on things before him, he felt bad for undermining her.
He monitored the place now that it was a possible environment for a fight. Taking note of the details like exits, number of people, tables, resources, and make-shift weapons if needed.
"Have you contacted Rodney?" he asked as he casually surveyed the place.
"Just messaged. They'll have a team a block away to go if needed," she nodded. "For now, we eat," she smiled overly brightly as the waiter came back over with their drinks.
They ordered, but Steve got the smallest appetizer only to make it less conspicuous as customers.
"Eagle's leaving the nest," Y/N hummed as she ate the last bite of her meal, and the group they had been monitoring walked toward the back alley.
Steve shifted in his seat just enough to see the exit, and they both nodded in confirmation of their next move. Y/N slapped down a wad of cash and shuffled out of the booth where Steve offered his hand, and they left out the front.
For the second time that day, Steve watched as a blade whirled past him, but this time, it implanted itself into the tire of an SUV in the back alley, followed by a loud pop.
The assailants hoping to make a getaway were out of a car now, and Steve had taken the advantage to knee the driver's side door where the man halfway in it, ricocheted his head off the frame and collapsed on the ground.
"On your left!" Y/N shouted as she rangled her own opponent, and Steve noticed another one of Masgood's men escaping.
Not wanting to lose his position since Masgood himself was still in the car he had cornered, he angled and calculated the right throw for his shield to take him down. And with the right aim…
"Fuck!" the man shouted before falling down to the concrete seconds after getting smacked in the temple with the vibranuim disc.
Steve turned after hearing Y/N grunt and saw that two of her attackers had cornered her and were getting a jump on her.
"Y/L/N!" he shouted, stepping her way, but she used another man's body as if a wall and walked her feet up his torso until she was backflipping and rendering them both helpless instantly.
"Rogers, Masgood!" she panted once back on her feet and pointed behind him.
Masgood had pulled out the other side of the car and was positioning a gun right at Steve. Everything happened so fast that Steve didn't know where the gunshot had landed after he ducked from the barrel.
A scream followed, and thinking his aim hit someone else, Steve looked around for the injured only to see Masgood holding his shoulder where the butt of a blade was jutting out.
"You fucking bitch!" Masgood turned his attention to Y/N, who had been smiling at her shot. He dropped quickly to grab the gun that fell out of his grip, but before he could get to it, Steve slid over the hood and tackled him.
"That's no way to speak to a lady," Steve gritted out as he pinned him to the ground and brought his hands around his back.
Any of Masgood's men that may have escaped the narrow alley had been caught by the backup team Y/N had set up a block away. By the time the fight was over, eight men were already in custody, and Masgood was locked in a contained SHIELD van.
After going through a briefing with Rodney, who had been instructing the team outside the alley, Steve and Y/N finally took a minute to breathe.
"Thanks for packing my shield," Steve said kindly as they moved to their SUV.
"Didn't want to have you fighting without your comfort item," she smiled but winced as she rolled her shoulder.
"You ok?" he stopped in his tracks, moving in front of her to keep her from going any further.
"I'm fine," she mumbled, moving her shirt sleeve and looking at her arm for the wound. "Just a scratch."
Steve didn't hesitate to shift the long sleeve to see the cut in the fabric and the blood that had soaked through it.
"You were supposed to get checked by the medics," he studied the injury, and she hissed at the pressure of his gentle touch, which was enough to sting.
"It's nothing a bandaid can't fix. Besides, it'll be a scar come morning," she tried to brush his hand off, but he gave her a stern look at the action. "Why are you so worried? I figured you could care less if I walked out with a katana protruding from my gut."
Her eyes refused to meet his, and he hated the feeling that overcame him at the idea that she thought he wouldn't be phased by something like that.
"That's not true," he said gently, his hand loosened its grip but didn't leave her arm.
"You sure as hell don't act any other way," she mumbled, looking at his hand and placing her own on his to try and remove it. "Seriously. You don't have to act like you care just cause you feel bad-"
"Y/N, I'm not acting," he turned her face to his, gripping her chin between his thumb and index finger. "I would never wish to see you hurt."
She didn't fight the hold he had her in, but she gave him weary eyes at his comment.
"Your words tell me otherwise, Steve." Her words were said with a form of hurt that he never pictured her holding.
"I'm sorry," he lowered his head every so slightly to catch her eye line better. "I'm sorry that I'm a hardass around you and make you feel like I'd rather see you hurt or injured than alive and well."
"I don't understand what I've done to-" she started and pulled her head back before he, without thought, pulled her arm he had a grip on into him, making her body crash into his.
She froze initially, but when his arms wrapped around her back, he rested his head on her. She sighed and fell into it. She needed that hug more than he realized.
"You get on my nerves, Y/L/N, but it's not in a way that I'd wish never to experience it again. I act like I can't stand it, but truthfully, I need someone to keep me in check the way you do," he muttered as he rested his chin on her head. "I'm sorry I don't give you the benefit of the doubt where you deserve it most."
"Why?" she mumbled into his chest.
"Honestly?" he hummed, pulling her back and looking at her still in his embrace. "I think it scares me how much I actually care when you drive me as crazy as you do."
Her eyebrows furrowed, and she turned her head at him.
"What do you mean, Rogers?" she said in almost a whisper.
"I mean, I can't wrap my head around how you constantly get on my nerves, but I like it."
There was a pause as they stared at each other, and her lips slowly curved.
"Steve. Are you confessing that you may actually like me?" she grinned.
He chuckled under his breath, making his chest vibrate.
"I'm confessing that we may have some things to figure out, I guess," he nodded, not feeling hesitant at surprisingly admitting that.
"Well, isn't that a 180 from how we started the day," she laughed, pulling back. "How about we stop for a sweet treat for this discussion that I'm definitely pulling you into when we get to the compound?"
"Am I going to regret confessing this?" he scrunched his nose but couldn't help the smile that followed.
"It's me. What do you think?" she shrugged, moving toward the SUV passenger side.
"Good to know our ways aren't changing much," he sighed, following behind her to open her door.
Marvel Tags:
@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555 @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @livstilinski @basicallylool
My Lovelies forever:
@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter1 @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @torayuri777 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk
#steve rogers one shot#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x avenger reader#reader insert#mcu reader insert#justkending#marvel insert#steve rogers reader insert#steve rogers
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HIIII I'm a big fan of your work and I really love it your writing is amazing , this may be a weird request and if your uncomfortable you don't have to do it , it's fine I completely understand, so it's like merlin and Arthur and the reader and they are all soulmates and it's there first time meeting each other . Thank you in advance
Modern! Reader Gets Transported to Albion
idea : modern world! reader gets transported to Albion and meets Arthur and Merlin. unbeknownst to you and the prince of Camelot, the three of you are soulmates.
type : imagines
word count : 0.7k
pairing/s involved : Arthur x Reader, Merlin x Reader
warning/s : almost drowning, panicking
here is my masterlist!
Note : MY FIRST REQUEST! Whoever you are, thank you for reading my works and I might've changed a little bit in your request. Also, I apologize that it took so long, school has been keeping me busy. I hope you like it! 😊
You've always been a fan of BBC Merlin so when you had the chance to take a trip to Europe, you did.
You went to all the locations where they filmed the series like Château de Pierrefonds and Chislehurst Caves. The last destination is where the Lake of Avalon is; Forest of Dean.
Luckily you are alone, giving you the chance to fully enjoy the beautiful sceneries and serene atmosphere.
It made you feel a deeper sense of nostalgia and melancholy— how the precious characters you loved dearly died and were 'buried' there.
With one last selfie, you were about to walk back to you car when you hear it. A faint voice, filled with sorrow and longing.
"(Y/N)... Save us."
It's coming from the lake.
Something glimmers on it's shore, a sapphire drop necklace with golden chain. When you attempt to pick it up, the world begins to spin.
Suddenly, you were underwater.
Panic builds in your chest not because you can't swim, but an unseen force seems to harshly pull you down no matter how hard you try to stay afloat.
"Help me! Please, someone—"
Air runs out from your lungs when a pair of bulky arms grabs your body and begins to swim you to safety.
"Don't worry, I got you."
I heard that voice before.
The stranger easily carries you to ground, draping a large cloak on your shivering body. Rubbing your eyes for better sight, you look up...
Bradley James?
"Are you alright?"
No. You're certain that Bradley doesn't look that young anymore, keeping up with his latest activities online.
"I told you to be careful, Arthur!"
Turning your head, you see Colin Morgan run towards the two of you with a worried expression on his face.
He looks younger too.
"Ah, Merlin. Fetch the horses, she might need medical attention. May I ask for you name, my lady?"
Arthur? Merlin? Wait... Oh my God.
Realization hits you hard when both men stare at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.
The way they speak, their clothes, their appearances... it's exactly the same in the show you binge-watch every Christmas season.
Am I in the show? That's not possible...right?
"W-Where are we?"
"Camelot."
Shit.
You expect someone to go 'You just got punked!'; that would've been better than two men (who you have a huge crush on) staring at you, confused.
You waited for a moment but nothing happens.
This is real. I'm actually in Albion.
Fear and anxiety creeps into your system, as many questions form in your head. Did I die? What's going on? What season is this? How can I ever get back?
Due to the overwhelming emotions, your breath shortens and keeled over.
Bradley, or Arthur (You have no idea anymore), quickly catches you and gently carries you to his horse.
"We must make haste!" was the last thing you heard before you blacked out.
Merlin, on the hand, knew this would happen. In fact, he dreams of you.
He sees you in vague images, like old memories— happily kissing his cheek, witnessing him use magic, encouraging him to do another trick, etc.
He already etched in his mind your pretty face, your melodious voice, your playful grin— everything about you.
Then Arthur shares the same experience, dreaming about a woman who's description mirrors yours.
Kilgharrah told him that the woman of their dreams will arrive soon from faraway land and will play significant role in the prophecy.
However, the dragon didn't specify how. He only said—
"(Y/N) is your soulmate, Emrys. She sees you and Arthur in a light no one else ever will."
Soulmates are uncommon, even for druids. Only a few were blessed, to have something so wholesome and pure.
So when he heard your cry for help, he is ecstatic. You have finally arrived. His soulmate... and Arthur's.
He wryly smiles at this. Funny how he shares, not only his destiny with the prat, but also you.
The trip to the castle was faster than they anticipated. Arthur told him to call Gaius and meet them in his bedroom.
It caught the attention of everyone. The prince carrying an unconscious woman in his private chambers will surely stir gossip.
But Arthur didn't care, and Merlin didn't know if he should be proud or worried.
The court physician said you are healthy, they only have to wait for you to wake up. He left to attend other matters; leaving the three of you alone.
"This is her." The prince laughs in disbelief, incognizant of what Merlin knows. "The girl in my dreams, I can't believe it!"
Merlin tries to hide his smirk, Arthur can be so adorable when he's clueless.
"Nor can I, sire."
#bbc merlin#emrys#arthur pendragon#bbc merlin imagines#bbc merlin headcanons#merlin x reader#merlin x reader headcanons#arthur pendragon x reader#arthur pendragon x reader headcanons#arthur pendragon imagines#bbc merlin imagine#merlin x arthur#arthur x merlin#merthur#soulmate au#colin morgan#bradley james#bbc merlin preferences
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𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 | 𝒋𝒐𝒆𝒍 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒔
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Joel Miller x f!Reader x Tess Servopoulos
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.3K
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+ - smut, boston-era, age gap (reader fucks two people old enough to be her parents), girl on girl action, a touch of voyerism (joel likes to watch), threesome, bisexual reader, fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it kids), squirting, creampie, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, manhandling, breeding kink, slight cum play, lil' bit of fluff at the end.
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: what happens when Joel comes home early from a run to find Tess fucking you on his bed.
𝒂/𝒏: throws this like a grenade and runs away fast as fucking possible. i can't actually believe i wrote this, it's disgusting i'm sorry. happy pride to my fellow bisexuals. the mommy and daddy issues are strong with this one ~ no beta, we die like men
You’re not sure how this thing with Tess has started. You’re not even sure what this thing is but it’s become a routine, on nights Joel is away, sharing his bed with Tess, her soft lips pressed to your neck as your rut against her fingers.
You’ve noticed her softening in the months you’ve been doing this. There’s a brightness in her eyes that wasn’t there before and her smile is wider, and a little more genuine. To outsiders she’s still the same hardened, take-no-shit Tess but with you, you get to see her, really see her, glimpses of who she might’ve been before.
Slipping into her building under the cover of darkness, Tess is always up waiting for you and she takes no time pulling you to join her in bed, stripping you out of your clothes and making your breath catch in your throat as you whine her name.
It’s not cheating, not really, since Tess and Joel haven’t really discussed their relationship, that’s what she tells you, that Joel isn't the jealous type anyway. You don’t believe her, you’d seen Joel threaten men for far less.
He isn’t meant to be back for another day or so, that explains why Tess has your spread on the bed she and Joel share. It smells like him, you notice it every time you’re here and sometimes it’s overwhelming, the woodsy spiced scent of Joel. You’ve wondered, once or twice, if Joel can smell you when he returns, sometimes you’d spend a few nights, once a whole two weeks, sleeping in his bed, your sweat soaking the sheets while Tess buries her mouth between your legs.
With your back pressed to her chest and her legs wrapped around yours keeping them spread, Tess rubs soft circles over your clit. Your head rolls back, supported by her shoulder as you whine and squirm, desperate for a bit more friction. Joel hasn’t been on any runs for a while so it’s been weeks since you’ve felt someone else's hands on your body.
“More, please Tess more” you pant, turning your head to mumble into her neck, already half gone. Tess slides her hand further, slipping her fingers through the wetness gathering at your entrance.
“All for me?” Tess teases, she loves you like this. All pliant and pretty for her. You nod and she feels it against her throat. “So pretty sweetheart. All for me” It’s possessive, all for her, she knows you don’t do this with anyone else, not anymore.
Tess pushes two fingers into you, long fingers that reach that spot inside better than your own can
“Oh, yes” you hiss, your orgasm approaching rapidly. She swipes her thumb over your clit as she crooks her fingers sinfully, rubbing that soft spongy spot that makes you see stars, coaxing your orgasm closer and closer.
You hear a faint jangle of keys from the hallway outside, it can’t be Joel, probably just a neighbour, you think, Tess wouldn’t risk having you here if there was even a possibility Joel would be returning, would she?
The front door is thrown open and you hear heavy footsteps crossing the small apartment before the impossibly large body of Joel fills the bedroom entrance, dropping his bag heavily when he’s greeted by the sight of you and Tess on his bed.
Your impending orgasm is lost with the interruption and you whine pathetically at the loss and at the embarrassment of being caught like this. You try to bring your legs together, hide your glistening cunt from Joel’s view but Tess keeps you pinned in place, doesn’t even falter, she slows but does’t completely stop the gentle prod of your g-spot.
“Shit” you mutter under your breath, burying your face further into Tess’ neck, unable to even look at Joel, heat creeping up your cheeks, making you feel hot all over.
You feel Tess’ hand grip into the back of your hair, turning your face to look at Joel. You try to resist but you know when she means business, your eyes meet Joel’s face and you see something unspoken pass between the two of them as his features darken before he makes eye contact with you.
“Don’t stop on my account, finish her off” Joel’s gravely voice sounds tight, like you’re in trouble.
You bring your hand down between your legs, trying to push Tess’ fingers from your cunt, shaking your head as much as her grip on your hair allows
“C’mon sweetheart, be a good girl. Show Joel how pretty you look when you come” Tess’ fingers speed up their motions, withdrawing from your heat before slipping back in, the pads of her fingers hitting that spot every time.
You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, watching with interest as he props himself up against the divider, thick arms crossing over his broad chest. The sight makes you clench around Tess and she laughs softly in your ear “You like it when he watches?” nudging at your jaw with her nose, prompting you to answer
“Yes” it’s breathy and quiet, barely audible over the sound of the wet slick of your cunt around Tess’ fingers
You’re unable to tear your eyes from Joel because, fuck, he looks good. You’ve always thought he was attractive, in a rugged old-enough-to-be-your-dad kinda way. Your eyes trail from his arms, down the softness of his belly until your eyes land between his legs, even in the dim light the obvious stretch of his jeans over a more than generous hardness is evident. You feel Tess release her grip on your hair, hand finding yours to push it back down your body, your fingers joining hers between your legs. You take the silent instruction, tracing the tips of your fingers over your throbbing clit, eyes closing at the feeling.
“Mm-mm, eyes here” You hear from Joel, opening your eyes to find him tracing the thick line of his cock with his thumb, gripping the head through the denim of his jeans, a hard breath leaving him.
Your eyes track the movement of his hand and you imagine what he might look like with that hand wrapped around his cock, stroking in time with Tess’ fingers. Fuck, the image sends a throb through your walls and you hear Tess’ breath hitch behind you
“Close” you whisper, hooking your free hand back around Tess’ neck, bringing her closer.
“I know sweetheart” Tess speeds up her thrusts, fucking into you as you roll your hips down onto her hand, your own fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your back is sweaty against her chest, your hair sticking to the back of your neck.
“C’mon sweetheart, you’re right there I can feel it” and you are, your release sparking, flickering with each invasion of Tess’ digits, you need something more, something to ignite the burn settled low in your abdomen.
“Come for us” Joel commands you at the same time you feel Tess sink her teeth into the flesh of your shoulder and you’re not sure which of them lights the match but you’re coming. Heat spreads down your thighs, your back arching in a way that’s pornographic and the groan you let out rattles deep in your chest. You flood around Tess’ fingers as she continues pushing you through your orgasm and when she wrenches her fingers from your cunt something inside you bursts, a scream torn from you as you soak Joel’s bedsheets.
Fuck, you’ve never done that before, you roll your face into the crook of your arm, hiding yourself away from Joel’s intense stare, shame tightening a knot in your stomach. You’re barely able to support your own head with the energy your orgasm ripped from you. Your whole body trembles as Tess soothes you, trailing her damp fingers up and down the skin of your thigh.
“Pretty, isn’t she?” Tess murmurs from behind you as calloused fingers cup your jaw, turning your head to meet Joel’s gaze and he’s so close, one knee on the bed, right in the middle of the wet spot you’d made and he obviously doesn’t care about your cum soaking through the fabric of his jeans.
“So pretty, could watch that all day” Joel all but growls, it’s low and deep and there’s a tinge of desperation that sounds good on him.
He roams his eyes down your body, releasing your jaw and bringing his hands to slide two thick fingers through your soaked folds, meeting your eyes again as he slips them gently into your cunt “You always cum like that or was that all for me?”
There it is again. All for me. Possessive. You’re a possession, you belong to Tess, and apparently by extension, Joel.
“For you” you moan. Not all for him, for Tess as well, it was her fingers after all. Although with the way he’s stretching you around his fingers and pumping slowly you might come again, this time all for him. You reach for Tess, clutching at her as she continues the ghosting trail up and down your thighs. Joel notices how your fingers entwine with hers and he turns his attention to her.
You hear the wet sounds of a kiss and a soft breath leave Tess’ chest, you can’t see, squeezed between them as Joel fingers continue their pleasure. When they separate you sense Joel whispering something in Tess’ ear but you don’t catch it. Then Tess brings her lips down, brushing your sweaty hair out the way and what she says makes you melt
“What do you say sweetheart, you want Joel to fuck you?” You whine and buck your hips, almost frantic at the prospect
“Yes, yes please” you feel Tess nod against your ear and see something glint in Joel’s eyes.
You think about reaching for him, slipping your fingers under the buckle of his belt and dragging him to you but you quickly accept you’re not in charge here. Maybe next time. Or not, there’s not going to be a next time, Jesus you’re not entirely convinced Joel isn’t going to kill you after this. Tess may be in charge but you’ve seen Joel go off the rails more than once, he’s a dangerous man.
Joel reaches for his buckle, making quick work of the leather and denim, and boxers you notice, when he comes back to the bed wearing nothing but his faded blue shirt. You do reach for him then, working the buttons much faster than you expected with your shaky hands, eventually his shirt hangs open, greying hair hiding the scars littering his body.
Tess keeps your legs spread, lifting them higher to allow Joel to settle between them. You’re surrounded, Tess behind you, Joel in front of you and you don’t know how you feel but you do know that being shared by them feels right.
“You ready for him sweetheart?” Tess whispers against your ear. When you nod your head Tess tsks “Ask him”
“Joel please, want you” Joel brushes the thick head of his cock over your entrance, letting it rest heavily against your clit
“Again” Tess orders
“Please, fuck please fuck me, want your cock Joel. Need it, wanna feel you-” Joel silences your begging with a sharp thrust, sheathing his length into your wet heat. The sound you make is filthy, and fuck, he’s big.
“Breath sweetheart, it’s a lot, I know, but you can take it” Tess presses soft kisses down your neck and along your shoulder. You blindly reach behind you, desperate for another anchor, something familiar and grounding and when you feel Tess' hair running through your fingers you pull gently.
“So good, taking me so well” Joel moans above you “so fucking tight for me”
For me. You tug lightly on Tess’ hair, stretching your neck up to meet her lips in a soft kiss.
Joel starts moving when your lips meet, jostling you slightly, pushing you further into her and she takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, licking into your mouth when you gasp as Joel forces himself back into you.
“Feel good sweetheart?” Tess questions between quick kisses and you nod, whining a barely coherent answer. Joel sets a ruthless pace, thrusting himself in and out harshly, pressing your sweaty body between Tess and his own.
You want more, need more, from them both. You make the split second decision to move, pushing him off you. Rolling yourself over and settling yourself between Tess’s thighs you push your knees up underneath you, raising yourself up for Joel.
You waste no time, peppering soft kisses on the inside of her thighs. You can feel Joel’s knees settling around yours, his hand resting on your hip but he moves no further, watching the back of your head work between his lover's legs. You reach her core, immediately licking into her, nosing at her clit. His eyes flick to Tess when she gasps, he can hear a soft hum come from you and feels you nudge your hips back into his.
Gripping his cock, he pushes the head between your lips, and god, you’re so wet, there’s little resistance as he sinks in.
Joel pulls your knees out from underneath you until you’re flat, straddling your thighs and thrusting himself back in. You whine and he stutters, dropping his forehead to your shoulder, “Fuck darlin’, so fuckin’ tight” you squeeze tighter around him that it’s almost painful, “Christ” Joel moves, almost by instinct, ploughing himself into you roughly, he’s little restraint, watching Tess writhe beneath you, your tongue flicking repeatedly at her clit.
Joel’s pace rocks through your entire body and you start to lose focus, panting around Tess’ clit as you try to control your moans. You can’t, can’t focus on anything other than the burn of Joel’s cock splitting you open. You pull back from Tess, bumping your forehead against Joel’s, getting his attention. When he raises his head you kiss him, you know he can taste Tess on your lips and you realise this is the first time you’re kissing the man currently buried in your cunt.
Joel chases your lips when you pull away but you guide him gently where you really want him, arousal flooding through you when Joel lowers his mouth to Tess’ cunt, flicking his tongue in lazy, sloppy circles. Resting your head against her thighs you can feel her twitch with every pass of his tongue. You force yourself to keep your eyes open, to watch, as Joel continues to drive into you, never even faltering in his thrusts.
A soft plea of your name pulls you from a bubble of bliss, when it’s repeated you realise it’s Tess, you stroke your hand down her thigh, letting her know you hear her
“Fingers, please sweetheart, your fingers” Joel hears her too, shifting his attention to her clit, allowing you to slip your fingers into the wet heat of her cunt. The muscles in her thigh tense against your cheek and you know her tells, you know that means she’s close.
You can feel your own orgasm building steadily, each thrust of Joel pushing you closer to the waves that threaten to crash over you. You suppress it as much as you can, heavy eyes watching as Joel feasts. You glance up at Tess, expecting to see her head thrown back, what you don’t expect is to find her watching. Watching the way Joel is buried between both her thighs and yours, the way he works at her clit, eyes closed, the lines permanently etched on his face softened as he enjoys it.
“Fuck” Tess mutters as both you and Joel work her to release, her hands fist into his hair and her hips rock onto your fingers “like that, yeah like that, Joel fuc-” and Tess whines, a gasp of your name leaving her lips as well. Joel doesn’t let up, continuing his assault on her clit and when you remove your fingers he laps at the wetness leaking from her. Her legs fall slack against the bed, the soft curve of her stomach rising and falling with her panting breaths.
“Your turn darlin’, wanna feel you come round my cock” Joel grumbles into your ear and before you can respond his hands are under your arms, hauling you up Tess’ body, propping you up on your knees between her spread legs as he slides back into your heat. Tess’ lips find yours, catching your gasp when she slips her fingers between your legs. She avoids your clit, instead just resting her fingers at your entrance, feeling how you stretch around him.
It’s overwhelming, two sets of hands on your body, the feel of Joel’s hips meeting yours, and the new angle of his cock hitting just right. You can feel something building, it’s a different kind of pressure, each time Joel withdraws you feel like you could burst and every time he thrusts back in the pressure tightens.
The constant cycle of almost release is punishing, your whines pitching higher and higher with every thrust. Your legs are shaking and you’ve given up kissing Tess, choosing instead to rest your sweaty forehead against hers.
Joel doubles his efforts at your sounds, a firm hand pushing your lower back into an arch, tilting your hips to allow you to take him even deeper.
“Fuck Joel, fuck, I-” you what? You don’t even know, it’s too much but you want more and you don’t know how to tell him that. The sound coming from your coupling is dirty, slapping skin and wet, so wet.
“Wa’s goin on huh?” Joel pants from behind you “Gonna come darlin’?”
“I- I don’t know” you pant, panic rising in your chest at the unfamiliar feeling.
Joel hums behind you and you can hear his smirk. He fucks into you three more times before withdrawing completely and you go into shock, legs trembling violently, hips raising and you’re gushing, your wet release drenching the mattress between your knees
“Shit darlin’” Joel groans as you squirt, eyes locked on your pulsing cunt “Makin such a mess” He slips back into you, thrusting hard and fast and you’re on a high, each thrust pushing you even higher and higher. This time Joel doesn’t pull out, instead the pressure of your release forcing him out against his will.
You hear him growl behind you, fingers gripping your hips, holding your boneless body as he fucks back into you. You can feel Tess whispering praise in your ear but you can’t actually hear what she’s saying over the ringing in your ears.
Her hands gently hold you up, her breath hot against your neck as you clutch at her arms, nails digging into her flesh so hard that if you were more conscious you’d be concerned about drawing blood.
“One more darlin’, one more f’me c’mon” Joel’s slurring above you, thrusts faltering. You shake your head, feeling thoroughly fucked out despite the heat of a more familiar orgasm building. You don’t have the energy to fight it and you relax into it, cunt pulling him deeper, tightening around him. Tess nudges your jaw and you lift your head to meet her eyes.
“You can do it sweetheart” she pushes your damp hair out of your face, bringing your mouth to meet hers and it’s sweet, a stark contrast to the way Joel’s pounding into you from behind.
Joel’s grip on your hip tightens in warning and he starts babbling
“Look at ya, takin it so fuckin well. Such a pretty little cunt. So fuckin tight, don’t understand how you can still be so fuckin tight. Gonna be good for me, need you to come one more time, one more time darlin and I’ll fill you up” You don’t know who his babbling is for but you tighten further at his words, your orgasm sparking.
“Yes yes, fuck yes Joel please” you know you’ve never wanted anything more
“Yeah, y’gonna take it? Lemme fill you up n’ fuck a baby into you?” That’s it, that’s what breaks you, pleasure ripping through your body so hard it’s painful and you sob, tears flowing and chest heaving, mumbling incoherent nonsense as Joel continues to fuck into you.
“Good girl tha’s it. Gonna fill you up, leave you leaking” you can hear how tight his voice is, deep and gravelly and desperate. With a final thrust he buries himself as deep as possible, nudging at your cervix and it’s just the right side painful. “Fuck” You feel him swell as he comes, your abused cunt stretched around him, his fingers digging into your hips already leaving bruises.
Keeping his grip firm on your hips he kneels back, pulling you with him until you're pressed against him. He slips a hand between your thighs, brushing your oversensitive clit and you whine in protest. “No more, please”
“Okay, no more” He chuckles darkly “You did good, didn’t she do good?” he directs his question at Tess and she nods with a smirk
“She did” Warmth blooms in your chest at her praise and the tired smile she has on her face.
You can feel Joel soften inside you and you already miss the feeling, that is until you feel him slip out, followed by the wet heat of his release. You gasp at the feeling, you’ve never had anyone finish inside you before and it’s not entirely unpleasant. You kneel up, cum still leaking from you, adding to the mess on the bed sheets between your legs.
Tess is watching, eyes glazed as she sits up to run her finger through the sticky mess of your cunt before bringing it to her mouth, sucking with an obscene moan and a roll of her eyes. She pulls your lips to hers, licking into your mouth, you can taste yourself and Tess and something unfamiliar that must be Joel. Joel’s cock twitches against your backside and you’re both surprised and concerned, you can’t go again, your body is absolutely done, and thankfully Tess pulls away, a final chaste kiss before she addresses Joel
“Bill have what you went for?” she asks, her eyes dropping to damp curls between your legs
“Yeah” Joel breathes.
You don’t know what they’re talking about but you’re tired and your head feels fuzzy, ears still ringing and you need to lie down. Your knee brushes the wet spot as you move and you freeze “Shouldn’t we change th-”
“‘ll do it t’morrow” Tess mumbles, eyes flicking to the empty bed next to her expectedly and you join her without question. Joel moves then, coming to lay on your other side as Tess pulls you into her, wrapping her arm around your waist, always the big spoon.
Joel pulls the duvet that had fallen to the floor during your activities, throwing it over you all, immediately closing his eyes. You’re so tired, eyes feeling heavy but you don’t want to sleep yet. You want to soak this up, still unconvinced it’s not just a one time thing.
“What are you doing?” Joel mumbles, eyes closed but definitely still awake
“Nothin’” you lie, you’re watching him, basking in this sleepy-guard-down Joel, for only the second time since you’ve known him he doesn’t look like he’s on the verge of killing someone.
“Then go to sleep” he groans but turns his head towards you, his hand finding your knee, bringing it up to hook over his thigh, a silent acknowledgment of affection.
This, this playfulness with Joel, has seemingly come out of nowhere and the realisation has your jaw dropping.
“You knew” you state and Joel fucking smiles. You feel Tess’ smirk through the kisses to you shoulder and all of a sudden you feel incredibly thick
“You told him?” you ask
“He’s known the whole time” she confirms
“You spent two weeks living in my apartment, wearing my clothes and fucking on my bed, the whole place smelt like you when I got back” you bury your face into the pillow at his observation, you’d hoped he wouldn’t notice one of his T-shirts was missing but you feel the heat rising for a different reason when you wonder if he fucked Tess on bedsheets that smelt like you.
“You planned this?” you ask over your shoulder and Tess just hums with a smile “You could’ve just asked me”
“Where’s the fun in that?” she laughs, and you don’t think you know a more lovely sound than Tess laughing. Joel’s hand squeezes your knee under the covers and you know he thinks the same too.
Tess mumbles something like ‘going the fuck sleep’ into your hair and it’s not even a minute before her breathing slows and her arm around your middle becomes a dead weight.
As if the night wasn’t full of enough surprises, Joel’s fingers brush your jaw and when you open your eyes he’s watching you.
“This was a big deal for her. She didn’t wanna scare you off.”
You hum quietly, “Didn’t scare me off, could never” your speech is slurred, exhaustion quickly taking over
“I said no, at first, you make her happy and I didn’t wanna screw this up” that’s unexpected, honesty and vulnerability from Joel.
“Wait, we could’ve been doin’ this for longer?” Joel huffs a laugh in response, it’s genuine and the sound makes you feel fuzzy. “Guess we’ve got some catchin’ up to do” you mumble, you don’t register what Joel says in response, far too focused on what he’d said before.
‘You make her happy’
Happy is something you hadn’t been in a long time and you suspect, something Tess and Joel have been missing too. You make her happy, you’ve renewed her, pulling laughs and smiles with ease.
What’s that Fireflies saying ‘when you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light’
That’s you. You’re the light. Tess started a fire within you and she’s been basking in the glow and now she wants to share your light with Joel and you’ll gladly let her.
𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#tess servopoulos fanfiction#tess servopoulos smut#joel miller x reader#tess servopoulos x reader#joel miller x you#tess servopoulos x you#joel x reader x tess#tlou fanfiction#tlou smut#light | joel x reader x tess#love potions writing#love potion writes#han writes
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Of the Earth
Request: Could I request a fic faramir x reader where she has stumbled into ithilien and he comes across her? he's all angry at first because it's dangerous, but it ends well :) (they don't have to know each other either)
A/N: This one has more ranger!Faramir which was fun to write. Boromir lives because I say so lol Hope you all enjoy it!
Faramir x Reader
Fem reader
No content warnings
4.1k words
---
You inhaled the cool evening air, breathing in the scent of fir and cedar. You followed the worn path, now dotted with primroses and overgrown with fragrant herbs of thyme and sage, and swept your eyes over the trees and shrubs. Where was the entrance to Henneth Annûn? Idhron mentioned that it would be along the side of the mountain. The dying light of the sun filtered in through the trees and the forest was bathed in a dreamy glow. Ithilien truly was such a beautiful land, even now, still sullied with the lingering darkness of the orcs.
Something rustled behind you and your hand flew to your short sword. Your eyes darted around, breath hitched in your chest. Were there orcs about this evening? Most of them had been driven away, especially after the destruction of the Ring, but there was always the risk of stray orcs around. The forest settled, still and silent, but you kept your steps light and quiet as you continued on.
You neared the rock face and raised a hand to the rough surface. Idhron had said that the entrance looked little more than a crack, just wide enough for a man, and that what differentiated it from other cracks was the feeling of the stone. He had said that it would be cool and damp, and that there would be a change in the air, a subtle rushing in of the breeze. You continued past a few fissures until you felt exactly what he described. With a final glance behind you, you slipped into the stone.
You felt along the wall of the crevice, eyes adjusting to the dim, careful not to stumble on any errant stones or steps. There was a faint glow on the wall ahead, orange and warm, and you frowned. Torches? A fire? But Henneth Annûn was supposed to be empty. You drew your sword and rounded the corner.
“Do not move if you value your life,” a voice said, low and stern.
You froze and blinked at the hooded figures in front of you. Their weapons were drawn. Your eyes darted to the white tree on the leather breastplates of the men and you relaxed a fraction.
“Peace,” you said, lowering your sword. “I come from Minas Tirith.”
“We were not informed of any other parties dispatched to Ithilien. And you do not look like a messenger.”
“I come on behalf of Ioreth, of the Houses of Healing.” You sheathed your sword and offered the pommel, where the crest of the white tree was embossed, to the man. “Would the Enemy carry a sword from The White City? I think not.”
The figure threw his hood back and you flinched. Captain Faramir.
Prince Faramir.
“My lord,” you murmured, stunned, and he gestured for his company to lower their weapons.
His grey eyes were cold and stern, his lips set in a displeased line. “What are you doing here? Do you not know that there are still dangers lurking in Ithilien?”
“I am well aware. But I have come on a matter of urgency — I am in search of a plant, a herb, that they require. I have been searching for the last two days.”
“And you would dare venture out alone?” He frowned. “Why were we not informed of such an errand? My men and I could have found the plant for you.”
“By the time Ioreth realised what plant she required, your men had already departed. And it is not as though we, in the Houses of Healing, are told where the rangers go.”
His brow cleared a little but his jaw was still tense.
“As for leaving the city alone — there were no others we could spare to come with me. Our little band of foragers are not as well staffed as the rangers and guards,” you muttered, a hint of bitterness lacing your tone. “I was not going to let some woman die simply because I had no companion on this quest.”
“I cannot decide if you are brave or foolish,” he muttered and nodded to dismiss his men. They took one final glance at you then wandered off further into the cavern. “How did you find this place?”
“Idhron told me. It was getting dark, so I thought such a shelter would be a good place to camp for the night.”
He sighed and shook his head. “Come, my men were just about to sit and eat before we were alerted to your intrusion. Join us, and we can talk.”
He led you to one of the caverns where a few worn tables and chairs were scattered about. Some of the Rangers ate at the tables, but most were seated on some woven mats on the floor. Braisers lit and warmed the space and the distant hush of the waterfall echoed above the chatter. Faramir handed you a bowl of stew and a piece of bread and sat with you at one of the empty tables.
“How do you know Idhron?” he asked.
“He is a friend of the family. They did not wish for me to join the rangers as they thought it would be too dangerous but I did not wish to be designated to a life of weaving or scribing. He had suggested foraging for the Houses of Healing as a sort of compromise. It allows me to be in the wilds, but the work is far less perilous than that of a ranger.”
He hummed. “He is a wise man.”
You nodded and went back to your stew. How strange it was to be seated at a table with Faramir. Prince Faramir, you reminded yourself. You tucked your dirt stained fingernails under your palm and tried not to slurp while you ate. You glanced up, eyes trailing over his wavy hair, to his proud brow, down to his lips and short beard. He truly was handsome up close; it was no wonder the Houses of Healing were all a flutter with gossip after he had stayed there. His eyes met yours and you nearly choked on your stew.
You cleared your throat and let your eyes fall to the table.
“Tell me about this plant,” he said.
“I do not know what its proper name is but we call it Dawn Root. It is leafy and unassuming and the only way to find it is to listen for it.”
“To listen?”
“Yes, it… it chimes. It is easiest heard at dawn, hence its name.”
“How curious. I have never heard of such a thing,” he murmured. “Will you be searching for it tomorrow morning?”
You nodded, and he said, “I would like to accompany you, if you are amenable to that.” His gaze had softened, the firelight melting the steel in them. “It is not because I think you are incapable. I simply wish to see this strange plant.”
Your stomach lurched and you gave him a hesitant nod.
”I must confess to some curiosity about how a practised forager goes about it. We are taught some basics, enough to keep us alive, but I’m certain there’s still much more to learn. Even after the sun has risen, perhaps we can still forage, if you do not mind sparing some time to show me.”
Your eyes dropped to your half-eaten stew. Faramir wished to learn from you? “What would you wish to know about?”
“Mushrooms,” he murmured, a slight smile in his voice. “We’re taught mostly to avoid them unless we are absolutely certain they are not poisonous, and even then, most of us are wary. I am fond of morels, but I know they have a deadly counterpart.”
You shrugged. “They are easy to differentiate. In fact, it is the season for them now. We might find some while we are looking tomorrow.”
“I suppose, then, I can trust you to pick some?”
Your eyes rose to meet his. They were unguarded now, so different to how he looked before, and a gentle smile was on his face. He looked like the sort of man you would cross paths with in the market or in the library. Just an ordinary man, eager for mushrooms.
“And then you’ll cook them for us?” You asked with a chuckle and he nodded. “I did not think there would come a day where I would see Prince Faramir standing over a campfire, cooking.”
The moment the words left your mouth you snapped your jaw shut. What were you thinking? Teasing him like that?
You opened your mouth to apologise but his eyes crinkled with amusement and a breathy laugh escaped from him. “Do you know how to cook?”
“Only well enough to survive.”
He grinned. “Ah, then perhaps this is something I can teach you in return.”
-
Faramir held the torch aloft and swept his eyes across the trees and shrubs. It was so dim, the sun still yet to break the horizon, that he could scarcely see beyond the torch’s little sphere of light. Every morning for the past week, he had set out with you to search for this plant. You walked beside him, steps so silent he wondered who had taught you to stalk and creep through the land, your eyes fixed on the darkness, focused yet distant.
The light illuminated your profile, highlighting it in a soft orange. He followed the line of light down from the line of your forehead to the swell of your lips. You had shown up at the cave with your hair mussed and your skin shiny with sweat, and yet, in that moment, you seemed to him more beautiful than the courtly ladies of Gondor.
Ever since his appointment as Prince of Ithilien, it seemed like there was no end to the subtle romantic overtures from the nobles.
There was no need for an advantageous match, both Boromir and Aragorn assured him, but even if there was, he could not betray himself to pick someone based on some arbitrary checklist of what would make a good partner. It wrenched his heart each time he spoke with the ladies — they were lovely and polite, intelligent and funny, but they were all lacking a certain something he could not name.
It seemed, to him, with each passing day, that he was destined to be a bachelor like his brother, though unlike Boromir, it would not be of his choosing.
When his brother had offered to temporarily take over the post of Steward while Faramir cleared and reestablished Ithilien, Faramir had marshalled his men and left the city within the week. It would be good to get away from the empty rooms and halls, away from the hollowness that echoed the loneliness within him.
Some part of him missed the warm and dry library, the scent of books and paper, but there was peace to be had in the wild too, in the quiet of the caverns, the stillness of the morning. And even now, in the silent understanding between two people united in the quest for something.
He squinted out into the dark and sighed. “We can hardly see in such low light. Perhaps we set out too early this morning.”
“You are not using the right sense, my lord,” you said, a sly smile growing on your face. “As I said, it chimes.”
“I cannot hear anything.”
“Perhaps if your steps were not so loud…” You flashed him a smile and he chuckled, a strange warm feeling growing in his chest. How long had it been since someone, anyone, aside from his company and his brother, dared to joke with him?
“My steps are hardly making a sound. You move like a cat; it is unnatural.”
“What is unnatural is seeing you out here.” You laughed. “I thought that —” Your smile vanished and you glanced away. “Forgive me, sometimes I forget myself, especially away from the city. I did not mean any offence.”
“I am not offended.” He smiled. “I would like to hear what you were about to say.”
You eyed him, hesitant, then looked away and spoke your words to the woods instead. “I… I thought that you would prefer to be in the city. I am well aware that you were, are, a good captain and ranger, but your love of literature and lore is just as fabled. I did not think you would return to your former roles now that we are in a time of peace.”
“Such a sentiment certainly isn’t unfounded,” he mused. “But sometimes even I, too, find the city a little stifling. It is nice to simply exist as oneself, unobserved by people.”
“I shall do my best to keep my eyes to myself then.” You laughed and he relished the sound before you pursed your lips and forced yourself to stop. “Um, what about your men?”
“We have travelled a long and weary road together. We see each other as friends.”
You opened your mouth then closed it with a snap, forging forward, and his chest tightened. He had thought that all the nightly conversations at dinner would have put you at ease with him but alas. He wished you would speak freely, like you did late at night when your tongue was loosened with fatigue.
He adored the way you would speak of your little adventures out of the city, eyes aglow with a fond smile on your lips. How you had one too many mishaps with a collapsing tent, how one of your companions taught you the shapes of the stars, how there was no greater thrill than discovering some strange new herb.
And just last night, you had leaned close to him while he fried the morels. The cavern was loud with chatter, but he had deliberately kept his voice low and gestured for you to move closer when you said you could not hear him. He could smell you, musk and moss and lemon from the homemade bar of soap you said you brought. You were so real, so alive. And when an errant strand of hair fell over your forehead, his fingers twitched to tuck it behind your ear.
If he were to do such a thing, would you welcome it? Or would the height of his station prevent you from entertaining such a notion? It vexed him, the way you would speak to him as an equal, a friend, then suddenly pull back, withdrawing to formalities. Perhaps he should make it clear to you that there was no need for such things.
“I was thinking…” he began.
“Hush,” you whispered. “I hear it.”
He stilled, straining his ears, and there, just faintly to his right, was a clear tinkle. You followed the sound, pausing every other step to listen, and he trailed after you. The first of the sun’s rays spilled through the trees, casting the forest, and you, in a hazy glow. His eyes lingered on the lines and curves of your body, marvelling at your grace.
You let out a triumphant cry and knelt a few paces in front of him. Just as you had said, the plant, leafy and unassuming, was chiming softly. You gently dug it out and cradled it in the palm of your hand. Its roots were a deep crimson and remained undamaged. You grinned at him, so open and so genuine that his heart ached with some unknown feeling.
“I must head for the city at once,” you said, tucking the plant into a canvas bag.
“You do not have a horse, correct?”
“A horse? Valar, where would I get a horse? They have been in short supply since the war, and Rohan are yet to send more over. And should the city even have some, the guards and messengers would take precedence over the foragers.”
“I did not realise your company was so ill-equipped.” A strange discomfort settled in his stomach. “It is no matter. We have some horses, please, take one.”
You blinked at him, astonished. “Where do you keep them?”
“There is another tunnel in the rock face not far from the cave entrance. It is large enough for horses to pass through and widens onto a grassy plateau. Come, let us make haste.”
You nodded and the both of you hurried back to Henneth Annûn. While you gathered your things, he untied and retrieved a horse for you. When would he see you again? He supposed he could always visit the Houses of Healing and ask for you, but perhaps you would not appreciate that. You still seemed a little ill at ease with him and, despite his own stirring feelings towards you, he would not wish to discomfit you further. With a sigh, he led the horse out to meet you.
Saddled and ready, you gave him a lingering look, then turned and galloped away.
-
You handed Ioreth the most recent bunch of gathered herbs, trying to ignore the curious glances the other women gave you. Ever since you arrived in the city three weeks ago on Faramir’s horse, the Citadel and the Houses of Healing have been abuzz with rumours. It did not help that a couple of days after your return, a messenger had arrived at the Houses of Healing with a letter for you with the bright blue wax seal of Ithilien stark on the envelope. Your foraging company knew better than to ask, but it seemed everyone else was not above gossip.
Iotheth gave the whispering women a stern look, thanked you for your herbs, and handed you another list of plants required.
You grumbled to yourself. Faramir’s horse! You did not know it was his, but perhaps you should have noticed the round medallion on the bridle which bore the newly created crest of Ithilien. Still, in the quiet of the night, you wondered why he had chosen that particular horse for you. Perhaps it was the most agreeable one they had, or maybe it was the most well rested, or he thought that sending you on his horse would be the most efficient way for you to reach the city without anyone stopping you.
Or perhaps… perhaps he simply wished to send you on his horse.
No, no. What a foolish thought. Evenings spent in conversation and mornings spent foraging and letters sent with the supply carts and messengers was hardly a basis for anything more than friendship.
Still, the letters had been unusually intimate. There were the usual inquiries about the patients and medicinal herbs, how the outpost in Henneth Annûn was coming along, whether the resource changes he and Boromir agreed on were helping your company of foragers, but there were also little personal comments and questions.
Other women here in the city might beg to differ, but I think the Rangers’ uniform is far more attractive than the guards’.
You’ve never used a bow? They can be quite handy, especially when hunting dinner. Perhaps when I am back in the city I can teach you.
Thank you for the pressed primrose you sent, they remind me quite fondly of my time in Ithilien. Do you have a favourite flower?
We’ve had another delicious morel dinner. I must confess that the sight of them makes me think of you.
It would amuse you to know I overheard some ladies mourning your absence from the city. Though, I begrudgingly admit that I share their sentiment.
The lily perfume Ioreth made for you sounds lovely. I imagine it must smell wonderful on you.
No, I do not write to you out of a sense of obligation. I look forward to your letters; you bring me more joy than you can ever know.
And each time he had signed his letter as ‘Faramir’. Not ‘Captain Faramir’ or ‘Prince Faramir’, but just… Faramir.
Your heart fluttered when you thought of that, but you squashed the feeling as soon as it arose. He was a prince, for Valar’s sake. And you were just… just…
Ioreth’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Girl,” she said, amusement in her eyes. “You have a visitor.”
“Who in Arda would come see me here?” you groused, pocketing her plant list. “All my friends are out —”
Faramir stood in the archway, his cheeks red from the wind and his cape hem muddied.
“Not all your friends, I hope,” he said, an unsure smile on his face.
“Fara — My lord,” you muttered, bowing your head a little.
His brows drew together. “Please, I am certain we are past such formalities.” You cast a nervous glance around the room and his frown deepened. “Shall we speak elsewhere? There is something I wish to discuss with you.”
You nodded and led him to one of the secluded gardens outside. “I did not know you were returning to the city,” you said.
“I had thought of sending a letter but I thought what I wished to discuss would be best done in person.”
“That sounds serious,” you murmured. “Not ill tidings, I hope?”
You paused by one of the shrubs, rubbing a waxy leaf between your fingers, avoiding his eyes. What could be so important he would make the trip back from Ithilien?
“I hope you will forgive me for being selfish,” he said. “Coming to the Houses of Healing and seeking you out. I am not oblivious to the… the rumours circulating around the city.”
You took a hesitant look at him. “So why did you come?”
“I wished to see your face when you give your reply.” He swallowed and clasped his fidgety hands behind his back. “I have read your letters again and again, trying to find some sort of hint or clue in them, and in your last letter… You said I brought you joy.”
You stared at him, the sound of your heart loud in your ears. The words had slipped from you before you realised, but you had left them in, a cautious declaration of how you felt, hoping that he would take it as a friend being overly sentimental.
“I must know,” he said. “Is there… Is there a chance you might return my feelings?”
“Your feelings?” you stuttered, scarcely believing what he was saying.
“Yes,” he said slowly. “You are a most singular person to me and there has been no other who has captured my heart so.”
He paused and looked at you, hopeful and apprehensive all at once. You gaped at him.
Singular… Captured his heart… All this time, he felt the same?
“Ah,” he said, voice flat, eyes shuttering. “I suppose your silence is enough of an answer.” He took a step back. “Forgive me, I —”
“Wait, no, please.”
He stilled but his face remained impassive.
“I am simply in disbelief,” you said in a rush. “I did not think… I dare not hope…” A strangled laugh burst from you. “Of course, of course I share your feelings.”
A smile spread slowly across his face and he offered his hand, palm up, to you. You reached out, but the sight of your hands, rough and dirt stained, stopped you.
“Why do you hesitate?” he murmured.
“Faramir, you are a prince. And I am not of equal standing or birth.”
“I do not care for such things. You are kind and brave, and smart and good-humoured.” He offered his hand once more and you tentatively curled your fingers around his. “And you are beautiful.”
He tugged on your hand and you stepped closer. Slowly, slowly, he brought his forehead to yours. You sucked in a deep breath, inhaling his scent of leather and musk, relishing his nearness after so many weeks. He nudged your temple with his nose and pressed a kiss to your temple.
He hummed, low and satisfied. “The perfume really does smell wonderful on you. I suppose I must smell a bit ripe in comparison. Though, in my defence, it was a swift ride, and I was far too eager to see you.”
“I think you would benefit from a bath, yes.” You chuckled and drew back. “But Faramir, what about the court?”
“Tongues will always wag, my love,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “But we shall face them together. And besides, you have already shown your service and care for the people. What more could Gondor ask of you as my partner?”
“I suppose I cannot argue with that.” You grinned. “But maybe, we could proceed slowly? I do not think I would fare well if I were immediately tossed into society.”
“Of course. And it shall give me time to court you, properly. I will be returning from Ithilien soon, and then I assure you, there will be flowers and walks and picnics.”
“And mushrooms?”
He laughed and kissed your cheek. “Yes, and mushrooms.”
---
A/N: Lowkey feel like the pacing was a bit off. I originally planned for it to be longer, but my brain decided to be shitty lmao so I had to pare it back. I hope the flow is still okay.
Nirnroot was inspiration for the Dawn Root, lmk if anyone picked up on that lol
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Hello,
This is the first ask I’ve ever done. So, I’ve had this idea that Law trusts you with protecting his literal heart during fights?
Oh my god? I am sewwww obsessed with this idea! It's simply so cute. If Law were here I would have him screw off your head and give your brain a little smooch!
Heeeeere we go!
Keep it Safe (+18)
Pairing: Law x afab!reader
Summary: After days of fighting, you can’t take it anymore. You want Law to stay with you somewhere safe, but he can’t, so he leaves you his most prized possession.
Trigger Warnings: ANGST? sex, p in v sex, pRONE bONE, injured sex (again?) heavy petting, pet names, cringe, kissin n huggin
Word Count: 2200 hehe
*Arrhhhh!* You yelled as you felled what seemed to be like the millionth enemy pirate. You and the Heart Pirates had been fighting for 3 days now, neither side letting up for a single moment. Your captain was handling his own, but the enemy numbers were simply too many. You looked over your shoulder towards Law, enveloped in his blue dome, slicing the men into pieces with his massive blade. You could tell he was beginning to lose his breath, not even he could keep this up for as long as it had been going on. He meets your eyes across the destruction.
“Y/n look out!” He yelled with wide eyes.
“Wha-“ You were struck in the back of the head and knocked out. That was the last thing you remember.
---
You woke up back on the Polar Tang, in a cold medical suite with metal walls. Law was jostling you awake.
You mumbled, “What happened? Did we win? Law?”
“Y/n there’s no time, I have to get back out there. I got you here as fast as I could. You have a concussion, but nothing major. You need to stay here and rest while staying awake.” He turned tail quickly and headed towards the door.
“NO! You can’t!” You tried to jump off the hospital bed towards him, pleading him to stay. Law turned back towards you and stepped in your direction just in time to catch you as you collapsed forward in your weakened physical state. He caught you in his strong, yet weary arms and pulled you into his exposed chest, shirt and jacket both ripped from the battle.
“You can’t go…” You sobbed into his chest, shaking your head. “It’s too much! We can’t win, you’re going to die out there! Please, let’s just sail out of here, please Law…”
Law tilts your head up at him with his blood covered hand, hopefully not his own, you thought. You were so scared, tears streaming down your face, staring up at him babbling and begging for him not go and leave you alone. He pecks a sweet, lingering kiss on your lips.
“Hey don’t cry. How about I give you a very important job to do, huh? Something to help you stay awake and not worry too much?” He was smiling down at you.
“Hhuhh..? Like.. like what?” You sniffled.
In the blink of an eye and a flash of a tattooed hand, Law was holding something close to your face. You leaned back and gasped. It was his heart.
“Here y/n. Take it. It’s just as much yours as it is mine. Keep it safe for me, hmm?” He took his free hand and grasped yours. He held them open and placed his still beating heart inside them. He used his tattooed hands to fold yours up over the the thumping cube. He looked at your face and stroked your fingers with his thumbs soothingly, seeing your shocked expression.
“Don’t worry y/n. This way I can go back out there and you still have me with you. I’ll be back.”
“Law no, I could never-“ you protested but you were feeling faint again.
“Y/n, I promise I will see you soon. Please try and rest. I love you.” He kissed your lips again and rushed out of the door he came in.
You were alone. The rest of your crew was still out there risking their lives and you were stuck in the ship alone.
*thump thump*
Not… totally alone… you thought. You had Law’s heart. He had trusted you with the most important thing to him. A sweet gesture, but what if he knew they’d lose the fight and would want you to have something of his to hold onto forever? The tears started falling again. What if that was the last time you’d ever seen him… Not even getting to say “I love you” back to him one more time? How could he do this to you? He was so selfish! He wanted to save you while letting himself and the rest of the crew die? He couldn’t even predict the guilt you’d live with?
No. Stop. He was coming back. He had to.
“well… I guess we should find something to do, huh?” You asked the thumping heart in your hands.
“OK I’ve lost it.” You sighed to yourself. You were talking to a disembodied muscle. You must have been hit a lot harder than you thought.
You carefully carried the heart to your room and gently set it down on one of the pillows at the head of your bed. You decided on reading a book to distract yourself and try to keep yourself from succumbing to your drowsiness. You pulled one of your favorite erotic novels from your large bookcase and flopped down on your stomach on the bed, holding your head up sitting up on your elbows. The ship was so quiet, it did nothing to distract you from your worries about the crew. You couldn’t focus on any of the words on the page in front of you.
*thump thump*
“Well… Law always likes when I read to him… Maybe the heart likes it too?”
You shake your head at how silly you sounded, but you knew that reading out loud would keep your mind on the text as opposed to your lover’s fate. So you started reading…
"The lady of the manor lifted her skirt, reaching a slender hand down and spread-"
Before you know it, over an hour goes by.
“And just as she was about to-“ You look at the pillow next to you and you notice the heart start to beat slower. You close the book and sit upright, you grab the heart in your hands and take a closer look. The heart rate seemed to still drop… oh my god? Was he dying? You were watching him literally die in your hands.
“LAW NO!” You scream desperately at the heart in your hands. It was so faint now… You panic, you didn’t know what to do. You were deep on the ship now, by the time you had made it to the surface he would be gone. You start sobbing, your tears dripping down your chin and dripping onto Law’s weak heart you had clutched to your chest. Your chest heaved as you let our wracked, pained sobs. You cried so hard you began to dry heave, body bent forward, snot and tears soaking your cheeks.
*thump thump*
What was that?
*thump thump*
It was coming back. You felt Law’s heartbeat start to come back, it was erratic but it was back. You sobbed out a laugh with a relieved smile. He was still alive. You were happy but so overcome by emotions, you didn’t know what to think. You laid your head down on the pillow next to your- Law’s heart. You couldn’t stay awake any longer, you fell asleep listening to the soft thumping.
—-
“I thought I told you not to fall asleep.” You woke up to Law walking into your bedroom.
“Law! You’re back!” Your eyes snapped all the way open and you jumped off the bed and into his arms. He winced, obviously injured from the fight, but he played it off as concern for you.
“Careful now, you should still be resting.” He pushed you back towards the bed and gently set you down on it. He had barely made you comfortable before he flopped forward onto the bed next to you. You smiled. He had clearly been to hell and back but his only concern was taking care of you first.
“Gotta shower…” Law mumbled, his face directed into your mattress and hat flopped off over the edge of the bed.
“No.. Not tonight. Let’s just sleep.” You urged him to sit up so you could begin taking the clothes off his tired body. He relented and gave you full access to rid his body of blood soaked clothes. Eventually you strip your captain bare and stand up to fold his clothes at the edge of your bed. He grabs your wrist.
“Stop, get in here. Take your nightgown off. Need you.” Law punctuated each sentence with a heavy breath. You oblige, stripping the soft garment over your head and letting it fall to the floor with the rest of his clothes you left unfolded. You climbed into bed next to him, on your belly propped up on your elbows. You look at him laying on his back next to you. You look at his tired face.
“I thought… I thought you died… Your heart….” You look down and realize it’s still on your pillow. He hadn’t put it back in yet.
“You took great care of it, y/n. You always have…” He leans up on his side and starts kissing you up your arm towards your shoulder. You feel his arm snake around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. Instinctively, without thinking you grab his heart with both hands. He jolts a little bit and grinds his hardening cock into the side of your hip.
“You hold it so nicely, y/n.” Law licks a quick strip up your arm to the top of your shoulder and gently sinks his teeth in there. “Your hands are so soft and beautiful, just look at them, y/n. I especially love them when they’re wrapped around my cock…”
Your pussy clenched. He was never able to resist you, even in situations like these. Even if he didn’t have the energy to give you the jack hammering of your life, he would still find a way to give you maximum pleasure.
"You know what else I love seeing wrapped around my cock?" He kissed the nape of your neck.
He continued, "Your pretty mouth... and your tight little cunt... Always so wet and soft for me... Like you were made for just me..."
He moved his body to be pressed on top of yours. You were high on his filthy words you could barely hold yourself up on your elbows anymore as he kissed down you spine slowly with an open mouth.
“You are the most perfect girl, taking care of my heart so well. I knew I could trust you with it. You’re my perfect, sweet, y/n, isn’t that right?” He reached your lower back and stopped kissing you. “Right… y/n?”
“Fuck-“ You were so turned on. You never expected to be seduced after such a dramatic moment, but Law always had ways of melting you under his touch.
“Yes, Law.” You breath out, throwing your head back.
“Yes, what, my sweet love?” He sits up on his knees behind you. He pushes your legs open and hovers back over you, leaning on his arms.
“Yes, Law. I’m yours. I’m your girl. I belong to you, forever!” You desperately choked out, starting to ache with need for him to be inside of you.
“Mmmm… yes, and I belong to you y/n. Look at my heart in your hands.” He purrs into your ear as he leans back down over you and pressing his chest flush against your back. “It beats for you.”
He reaches his hand down to guide his cock into your dripping hole.
“Law, I love you-“ You gasp out as he slides himself into you to the hilt.
“Fucking shit y/n I love you too, always so good for me. Takes care of me so well.” You lay flat on your stomach as he languidly slips his cock in and out of you. Every now and then he places slow and sloppy kisses on your neck as you whine with pleasure. The force of his strokes were punctuated with a soft grunt from his own desperate mouth. The pace was slow, it was all he could manage right now, but it still had you building towards an incredible finish.
“Law, more, please…” You elbows finally gave out, you flattened forward against the bed, still clutching Law’s heart into your chest.
“Anything for you, my love. I’m gonna make you cum so good. Such a nice reward for holding my heart safe. Is that what you want, y/n? Want me to reward you like my perfect girl?” Law grips your hips harder and drills them forcefully into yours, getting as deep as he possibly can.
His cock was nestled so deep into you, curving up to hit your favorite spot he always knew how to find, you were tossed over the edge of pleasure. You spasm and cream all over his shaft as you scream his name.
“Gooooood girl baby,” Law praises you for cumming so prettily on his cock. “You’re so beautiful when you do that. Gonna fill you up now sweetheart, okay? Take it all, I know you will, so perfect…”
You both groaned as he spilled his load deep inside of you. He buried his head into the crook of your neck and rode out his high, breathing heavily.
“Y/n… love… you…”
“I love you too, Law. So much. I’m so happy you’re safe, I was so worried about you I-…”
You heard snoring and the man on top of you got so much heavier. He had already fallen asleep. You felt a slow thumping in your hands and you struggled to push him off you.
“Really? Can you at least put your heart back in first???”
#one piece smut#one piece#one piece anime#one piece fanfiction#one piece fanart#one piece live action#one piece netflix#one piece fandom#law x y/n#trafalgar law#trafalgardwaterlaw#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar d law#law x reader#law one piece
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mota drabble :)
sickfic-esque w/ buck + bucky, crossposted on ao3 here
The sky is still gray.
It’s late afternoon and the atmosphere is mumbling, churning with oncoming rain. He blinks. The damp-earth breeze prods at him. He sways with it like paper and it whirls in his ears, a seashell roar.
Hollow breaths rasp along his throat. When he swallows there’s a cloying ache. He thinks there might be others around, somewhere, though his vision dims and fogs — he hears wisps of distant laughter, muddy voices. He’s not sure where they come from. He’s not sure where he is. He wonders if John is somewhere close.
Something needlelike hums in his skull; an ache smothers his ribs, his eyes, his empty stomach. A raindrop skips against his cheek. He tries to follow its path but loses track. He hasn’t seen John since they fought — he ought to find him, check on him.
Another cool breath of wind pulls across his neck. Taking a faltering step forward, he reels with dizziness, floundering — his skeleton feels fragile as a bird’s, his head a rush of floating sparks.
“Buck?”
He blinks. Static blooms and bleeds across his vision. He blinks again, and then he can’t see at all.
“Buck?”
The sound is closer now. He has the vague sense that it must be John’s voice, however far-off and underwater. It falls apart on the way to Gale’s head and he can’t understand most of the words, can’t fit them back together.
“Buck, hey.”
Sounds of footsteps. Easy rainfall.
“Hey, hey —!”
Darkness falls to clouds and gunfire, smoke and a loaded die, his father’s fierce right fist.
There’s a moment of thick, murky quiet. Then sound erupts and surges against him, close and disarranged. He struggles to close his eyes, struggles to reopen them. He’s on his back.
The sky is still gray.
The silver wind sweeps over his body, chilling him, but there is warmth, too. There are hands on him — one sits beneath his head, fingers cradling his skull, a thumb brushing again and again against his temple. The other skitters across his forehead, his cheek.
He blinks again, looking dizzily upward. A shape manifests from the coarse, dim sky: a face, dark hair. He’s not sure who the face belongs to.
“There you go, Buck,” the face says. The hand on his face soothes over his cheekbone. It’s so warm, featherlight; he shivers, teeth clacking. “You’re alright.”
Shuddering, he hums. He is alright. He’ll be fine, even if this must be worse than usual — his father rarely hits him hard enough to stun like this. But this is not his father, not with these easy murmurs and gentle hands. Where is his father? Has he left?
“He… g’out?” he tries to ask, though his mouth feels numb and impossible, his words slurred.
The hands pause; the dark, hazy brows draw together. “What’s that, Buck?”
He exhales, pain arcing across his abdomen. The hollow in his stomach stirs and seethes. He winces, gasping, and the soothing touches return. “D’he go out?” he asks again.
Another sweep of breathless wind, another raindrop breaking near his ear. A thumb runs across his jaw, coaxing. “Who, Buck?”
Who? He hesitates, a pang in his head. He blinks, and the features above him pool and run like water. Swallowing against the dry ache in his throat, he lets his fingers skim the cool ground.
The face above him leans away. In some indiscernible place to Gale’s left he hears its voice, tense and harsh, snapping. Boots clod over the claylike earth. Shadows appear all around him, vague and faceless.
With a muted twinge he wonders if the men are standing for a reason, if he ought to go, too. He hasn’t flown in a while; he’ll be rusty. He wonders if this’ll be anywhere he’s flown before.
“‘S’re a new one?” he slurs, watching the shadows grow closer, faint and fumbling shapes. They kneel, they reach.
The man above him leans down close. “Huh?”
Abruptly Gale knows it’s John — he can see the familiar slope of his nose and the hard keenness of his eyes — and his sternum thaws with muzzy relief. “We…” he starts, then trails off with a panting breath. Swallowing, he tries again. “We… know?”
John shakes his head, sweeping a slow thumb under Gale’s eye. “You’re not makin’ sense, Buck,” he murmurs. He raises his head, then, and addresses the crowding shadows, then leans back down. “Just relax, yeah? We’re gonna get you inside.”
Then there are more hands on him, on his legs and under his shoulders, and they grip tight and pull up as the world dissolves to vertigo and breathing.
He comes to in their cabin, lying on his bunk. He feels a bit clearer now, a bit more pained. He must’ve only been out a few seconds — the other footsteps are just retreating. Shifting, his body feels half-numb with cold and thick with aching. His boots are gone.
The cabin door closes with a dull thump. In the new quiet he shivers.
A hand cards through his hair, then falls away. Through bleary eyes Gale follows it, watching John stand. For a moment he’s worried he’ll leave.
But then John is pulling off his own boots and sliding in beside him, pulling Gale carefully to his chest. One broad hand soothes up and down his spine as the other cradles the back of his head, pulling him to rest his forehead against the warmth of John’s shoulder.
“You gotta get some rest, Buck,” John murmurs, fingertips scratching lightly over his scalp.
Gale shudders through the new warmth, the fog, the persistent pain. John squeezes him tighter.
“And,” John says, warm and close against his ear, “you’re eating at least half my ration tonight.” And then, when Gale begins to shift: “No, you are; don’t say anything. If you croak I’m going with you anyway, so no point in arguing.”
Gale thinks he should say something against that, but then John’s lips press against his temple, achingly warm.
“Go to sleep,” John whispers. “I got you.”
Gale closes his eyes, John’s hands soothing his raw mind to something faint and syrupy. He falls asleep against John’s collarbone, lulled by his breathing. He dreams of a sick-gray sky that goes on forever.
#mota#drabble#masters of the air#gale cleven#john egan#bucky egan#buck cleven#buck x bucky#writing#ao3
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wrong
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty) x Reader
Type: Angst
Summary: Simon’s finally home, so you should be happy right? Wrong.
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: anxiety, stress, tbh probably signs of depression too, pasta consuption (sorry ppl who r gluten free), explicit language
A/N: bruh. um. barely beta-read we die like men. yes i said i would be back by january yes i lied. definitely 100% not inspired by real life. tl;dr i hate mock trial, all the guys at my school are boring or annoying, and i’m on the verge. enjoy :)
It felt wrong to say, like really wrong, like going against every single thing you knew to be right and good with the world wrong, but Simon was really hurting you right now. Part of the reason why it felt so wrong to say was because it wasn’t even Simon’s fault. It wasn’t anything that he was or wasn’t doing that was hurting you, and there wasn’t anything he could or couldn’t do to make you feel better.
You felt terrible, even though you should’ve been feeling amazing, even though you should’ve been feeling ecstatic that after so long of being away on duty, he was finally back home, back in your bed, back in your arms. You felt guilty. You felt guilty because he was here and you should be happy and you should have been cherishing him and spending as much time as you could with him, and for some reason you couldn’t.
There was something hanging over your head, some insufferable, suffocating, terrifying cloud of stress and anxiety following you around that made you want to burst into tears at any second, and you didn’t even know why. You just felt bad. And Simon didn’t deserve that, not after everything he had been through, all the horrors he had seen. He deserved someone happy, someone who could cheer him up and smile with him, not someone who couldn’t even figure out what was making them feel like this.
It was horrible, how every time you saw him sleeping or washing the dishes or reading a book, your stomach twisted and the lump in your throat grew, how even just the sight of him made you feel so guilty for feeling bad around him, which of course just only made you feel worse, and therefore more guilty.
It was exhausting, and you wanted nothing more than to break down and cry and let it all out, but you couldn’t. Simon didn’t deserve to have to deal with that, he didn’t deserve to have to help you figure out what was making you feel like this when you didn’t even know how to tackle it on your own.
And even though you hated to admit it, you were secretly counting down the days until he left for duty again. Until you had another chance to put yourself back together and finally greet him with a sincere smile and a warm hug like you should’ve been able to do when he first came back. You just needed a chance to sort yourself out, a second chance.
Which is why when he said he had important news to tell you tonight, a tiny part of you lit up with excitement, shamefully praying that maybe, just maybe, he had to go back to whatever classified base he had spent the last five months at. And it made you sick that you were thinking that, that you wanted him gone so badly, but you couldn’t help it. It was so exhausting to smile at him and nod along to his conversations and act like you didn’t want to just drop off the face of the earth.
And now here he was, wearing a way-too-small ‘kiss the cook’ apron you had gotten him as a gag gift, standing in front of the stove while something that smelled way to good to be shitty Chinese takeout — your normal meal for when he told you he had to leave again — and you couldn’t help the way your stomach dropped when he turned around with one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen him wear on his face.
If he noticed the faint terror on your face, he didn’t mention it, instead taking your bag off of you and ushering you to the dining table, where he placed a delicious smelling plate of pasta in front of you and urged you to try it. Putting on a smile, you reached for your fork, but time seemed to slow down as you tried to take a bite out of the pasta. You felt like some invisible force was squeezing down on you, slowing your movements as it pressured you to put on a happy face for Simon. When you finally took a bite, you didn’t taste anything. You knew it wasn’t the food itself; it smelled delicious and it looked like it’d taste like heaven, but the dread bubbling in your stomach was all-consuming.
But Simon needed this, and you knew he needed this, so you closed your eyes and tossed your head back like it was the most delicious thing you had ever had. You groaned, “This… this is delicious, Simon. How did you make it?”
You tried to be happy at how relieved he looked at what you said, but instead it just made you feel more guilty. You watched as his hand reached for the back of his neck, something he always did whenever you complimented him, and his lips moved around in some slurry of words. You couldn’t hear anything, or at least your brain wasn’t processing it. You were too focused on making it seem like you were absorbing every single thing he said, like everything was fine.
At a certain point he sat down across from you, and you watched him fold a napkin neatly over his lap as he got ready to eat.
“What was that news you wanted to tell me about?” You asked, surprising yourself.
“Oh right,” Simon said, before quickly taking a bite of food. You tried to ignore the way your stomach dropped as his next sentence — although garbled and unclear due to the food he was eating — left his mouth. You had just heard him wrong, right? Yes, that had to be it. It was just your ears playing tricks on you, nothing more. Right?
“Um,” you said, swallowing, “what did you say?” You tried to put on a good face when you said that, a face that said ‘I’m so happy’ and not ‘I think this may send me over the edge,’ but by the way Simon’s chewing stopped abruptly you could tell you failed.
You watched as he swallowed slowly, setting down his fork and wiping his mouth neatly before continuing. “I said… I said I won’t have to leave for another four months.”
There was no hiding it now. As soon as the words left his mouth you felt a wave of emotion crash over you, and before you knew it you were crying. You felt embarrassed. Although it was blurred by tears, you could see Simon’s face just a few feet away from you. He was sitting quietly still, a complete opposite to your shaking, sobbing, body.
You could hear him call out your name, which just made you cry even harder. You didn’t know why you were doing this, you wanted so badly to stop, to just shut up, to not embarrass yourself any further, but you couldn’t. It was like you didn’t have control over your body anymore. You felt like your body was being tossed around by the cruel waves of emotion. You didn’t know how to do anything but cry. It was washing over you and you couldn’t do anything to stop it. You could feel the cold air burn your lungs as you tried to gasp for some sort of breath, but nothing helped.
For a moment, you thought you were better, but then you felt Simon’s hand on your back and you were drowning again. The way your cries grew louder and the sobs racked through your body harder when he wrapped his arms around you made you feel terrible, but you couldn’t do anything to stop it. So many emotions were battering your body: shame, exhaustion, dismay, embarrassment, love, fear.
At a certain point though, your cries began to quiet down. You became aware of Simon’s hand stroking the back of your head and the strong cocoon he had wrapped you in. Your heart rate began to slow down, and the only evidence that you had been crying was the still damp tracks down your cheeks and the erratic hiccups that jolted through your body.
You felt Simon’s chest rise like he was going to say something, and a spark of anxiety raced through your body again. You didn’t want to talk about this. You wanted to pretend this never happened. You wanted to grab your things and leave. You wanted to come back the next morning with two coffees — one black, just like he likes it, and one with way so much cream and sugar it’s almost inedible just because you know it pisses him off — and start talking about how he has to watch James Gunn’s Suicide Squad because it’s so much better than the one with Jared Leto.
But instead of asking if you wanted to talk about it or if you were okay or some other anxiety-inducing conversation starter that would only lead to more tears and confusion, all he said was “Do you wanna go to sleep?”
And for a moment you didn’t say anything, but then you slowly nodded your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist as he picked you up. He didn’t say anything as he brought you to your bedroom or when he helped you change into your pajamas or when he pulled the covers over you and pulled you close to his chest. And yet, even though he was a man typically shrouded in mystery and confusion, you could tell by how tight he was holding you that he was telling you something, even if it wasn’t out loud.
He was telling you that it would be okay, that he knew you could get through this, and that even if it wasn’t he would be there with you. And it wouldn’t be suffocating anymore and you wouldn’t have to feel like you had to hide things from him, you could just be, and he would be there for you. And that was all you needed as you drifted off to sleep.
#bingoboingobongo.com#ghost#ghost cod#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#ghost angst#ghost fluff#ghost one shot#ghost drabble#ghost imagine#simon riley#simon riley cod#simon riley mw2#simon riley x reader#simon riley angst#simon riley fluff#simon riley one shot#simon riley drabble#simon riley imagine#also no guarantees on regular posts#im like gonna RAHJHDJhdjdeHJEHDJ
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(not so) simple p1 - anthony bridgerton
masterlist
summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple — that is, until it isn't.
a/n: she's finally here!! the long ass anthony fic that i've been talking about for like three months lmao. as much as i wanted to release this all as one fic it became way too long and oh my god i just wanted to post something for it after writing for months. but here u go the first part of a few i hope you enjoy
wc: 10k
warning(s): reader is a little insensitive, mentions of issues getting pregnant, unwanted advances/gross men, historical inaccuracies
“No.”
“Darling—”
“No!” you protested once more, turning away from the mirror to face her. “Mother, you cannot be serious—”
“My dear, can you at least try to see things my way?” Your mother took a step back from you to admire the fit of your dress before she looked back at you. “Lord Cardew is an excellent match; he has a beautiful estate, incredibly vast wealth — for goodness sake, he is a baron! And he is interested in you.”
“He is a complete lecher,” you snapped. “I’d sooner die than accept even the slightest nicety from him.”
This kind of conversation had been going on between you and your mother ever since your debut the past week — you were no diamond, but you were no disaster either; you were as you’d always been, perfectly content with being perfectly average. But despite your lackluster introduction, you’d somehow managed to earn the attention of Baron Jonathan Cardew. An illustrious man with more wealth than you had ever experienced, your mother nearly fainted when he approached you after your debut and requested a dance.
It would have been a blessing of the highest order had he been fifteen years younger, capable of basic decency, and you wanted to be married in the first place.
Unfortunately, none of those were true, and after spending a waltz with him where you were more occupied with denying his advances than truly dancing, you became aware of the reason he flaunted his money so often — it was the only way to cover up how awful he was. But your mother was more taken with him than you were, insisting you follow through on his interest. Therefore, you were stuck in quite the unfavorable situation.
“That kind of mouth is why you can never keep a suitor,” she berated, turning you around to continue fussing with your hair. “Oh, I know it is disappointing to be unable to marry for love, but this is what you are meant for. You are the crown jewel of our family, my dear — do not throw it away on one of your many whims!”
“This is not a whim, mother!” You pulled away from her once again and stalked across the room in frustration, your arms crossed against your chest as you gazed out the window. “You have known for years that I have never wanted to marry.”
“And you have known for years that it is your duty!” she exclaimed. “Would you so readily allow our name to fall into ruin over something so simple?”
“Marriage is not at all simple!” you retorted, wholly exasperated. “I do not think I am at all unreasonable to reject a union with someone I despise.”
“You are unreasonable,” she insisted. “Your father and I have tried our best to raise you into the finest woman we could. My dear, you are beautiful, kind, creative; you are wonderful in so many ways, and perfectly eligible — if it wasn’t for your ridiculous notions, you would have suitors lining up outside our door!”
“It is not my fault that I am the only one here for you to marry off!” you shouted, aware that you were touching a nerve but too enraged to care. “I do not exist simply for you to dress me up and pass off to a man before society deems me unacceptable. You know who I am, and you should know that you cannot change me. If you wanted a daughter to give you heirs without complaint, you should’ve tried harder to secure your lineage than thrusting the responsibility onto me.”
You saw your mother’s jaw clench, and you felt the slightest pang of guilt. “Do not take that tone with me, young lady. We have tried more times than you know, and your father and I have worked harder than you could ever imagine building this life. The very least you can do is help us keep it.”
“You would rather I be miserable with a horrible man as long as your fortune and good name are ensured,” you accused, and you raised your skirt up as you crossed over to the door. You opened it with one hand and turned to her as you stood in the doorframe. “I will be back in time for Lady Danbury’s ball tonight, and I will participate in the social season to keep up appearances. But I will not seek out suitors, and I will not become any man’s wife — least of all Lord Cardew.”
Before your mother could protest any further, you shut the door behind you. You hurried through the halls of your estate as quickly as you could, armed with the intent of airing your grievances to the only other person in all of England who understood you.
-
“Lord Cardew?” Eloise scoffed as she set down her book. “I will never understand the men of the ton, going after women that could be their daughters.”
“You as much as I,” you sighed as you settled onto the couch next to her. “I just wish my mother wasn’t so intent on forcing us together. She is so blinded by title that she cannot see how awful he is— how awful we would be together.”
“Daphne had to deal with the same thing during her debut, a man of the same awful sort named Lord Berbrooke.” Eloise grimaced but then looked at you innocently. “She dealt with him with some well-deserved violence. I suggest you try her methods.”
“Eloise!” you gasped with mock horror at the suggestion. “You cannot say those things to me. You know I will go through with it if given the chance.”
“As you very well should!” she responded with a laugh. “Have you thought about running away?” You had to stifle your laughter at the question and she rolled her eyes. “It is a serious question! The way you tell it, you would all but be disowned if you go against your mother’s wishes. Disappearing might just be a better plan.”
“I must admit that I have,” you responded, “but I could never follow through with it. As much as she frustrates me at times, I do love my mother. She truly wants what is best for me, it is just that she has no idea what that is.”
“Sometimes I wish I could just escape to the country,” Eloise said, looking at you with a smile. “I would take you with me, and we would not have to deal with society’s demands; no men, no marriages, and everything we’ve ever wanted that has been locked away from us by virtue.”
“That sounds lovely,” you mused, laying your head against the cushions. “Able to simply walk about instead of promenading with a suitor, able to hitch our skirts and run as far and long as we can, able to read every book we can get our hands on, to be more than just another lady — it all sounds so perfect.” You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye. “But I thought you wanted to go to university.”
“Oh, you know I do,” she sighed. “If my half-brained brother can attend Oxford then I believe I am fully capable of doing the same. But a miracle would have to occur for them to suddenly allow my enrollment.”
“If there is anyone in England who deserves the privilege, it is you.”
Eloise beamed at you and you offered a smile of your own, though the moment was interrupted by the door being pushed open along with a demanding voice you had grown accustomed to over the years.
“Eloise, have you seen my quill?”
You looked up at the appearance and bit back a smile at the sight of the viscount — you were familiar with Anthony, having been friends with Eloise for so long, but he never seemed to appreciate your presence. His annoyance simply made it all the more fun to tease him.
“No, Anthony,” Eloise answered, “but have you tried your own desk? It seems far more likely to be there than in the drawing room the day I have a visitor. You are not as sly as you think, brother.”
It was then he seemed to notice you, whether by design or truth. “If it isn’t Miss Worthing,” Anthony said as he breezed across the room, offering nothing more than a passing glance at you. “I must ask, are you ever seen on your own estate, or have you decided to permanently establish yourself here?”
“It is quite funny that you ask, Anthony,” you started with a smile. “I have started moving more and more of my possessions here with every visit to Eloise — I believe it will only be a month more until I am fully settled at the Bridgerton estate.”
He hummed, wholly unamused as he rustled through the contents of the drawer across from the two of you. “I think it best for you to remain on your own grounds, lest you never leave again. I also think it best you refer to me as Lord Bridgerton — we are hardly close enough to warrant anything less.”
“Brother,” Eloise sighed, rolling her eyes in apology as she glanced at you, “must you insult my closest friend? There is no need for formalities in our own time.”
“It is not an insult, Eloise,” Anthony insisted. “Your closest friend has just debuted — it would do her some good to learn proper manners before the season gets too far along.”
“Well, Lord Bridgerton,” you made sure to enunciate his title, which only served to earn you another unamused look, “I very much appreciate your concerns, but they are not needed. I do not intend to marry this season.”
“My advice should not be taken lightly.” Anthony made a triumphant noise as he found what he was looking for, the aforementioned quill, then turned his attention back to you. “I have been the man of the house for longer than you know, Miss Worthing, and I guided my sister through an extremely successful season. I consider myself an expert on such affairs; it would do you well to listen to someone else for once in your life.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Do correct me if I am mistaken, but I believe that the man Daphne chose to marry was the one suitor you were intent on keeping her away from. Wasn’t it once you finally stepped back for a moment, she truly began to flourish as the diamond?”
“You certainly have an interesting memory, Miss Worthing,” Anthony said, restraint clear in his voice. “I am sure that you attract many suitors acting like this.”
“I don’t attract many,” you confirmed with a smile, “which is rather fortunate, seeing as I don’t plan to marry.”
“As you’ve already said,” he noted. “An interesting plan, I admit. I cannot imagine your mother is too happy about it.”
“I cannot imagine why you would care so much about her prospects,” Eloise mused. “I would assume your hands are quite full with our family alone. You air your grievances enough just at the idea of my own debut.”
“It is because she is a bad influence on you, Eloise. Your debut has already been delayed once, and if you continue to spend time around her it will surely happen again.” Anthony then turned to you and gave you a pointed look. “In fact, I believe it is time for you to go, Miss Worthing, if you wish to make it back to your estate in time for Lady Danbury’s ball.”
“How kind of you to remind me,” you said dryly as you stood up from the couch. Eloise stood as well and the two of you embraced, and she placed her hands on your shoulders when you separated.
“I’ll see you tonight?” she asked, and she glanced back at Anthony. “My dearest friend, who is in no way a bad influence?”
You nodded with a laugh. “Of course. I wager I will need someone to accompany me as I find my true calling as a wallflower.”
“It would do you well to change your attitude,” Anthony interrupted, and you responded by rolling your eyes at Eloise as she stifled her own laugh. “You are hardly two and twenty, Miss Worthing. You should not want to throw away your potential so soon.”
“Once again, I appreciate your concerns, but your worries are unnecessary.” You raised an eyebrow. “If you are so intent on my becoming a true lady, perhaps you should take matters into your own hands and court me.”
“Ah, yes. My younger sister’s closest friend; the most desirable lady of the season.” Anthony gestured towards the door in lieu of explaining his sarcasm further. You just smiled.
“I will see you tonight, Eloise,” you repeated as you started walking. “I look forward to your latest conversation.”
“I am sure my material is far more interesting than any suitor you may happen across,” Eloise reassured. “Including Lord Cardew.”
“You may be my savior yet,” you grinned. As you reached the door you bowed your head to Eloise, and then turned to Anthony and lifted your skirts up in a slight curtsy. “Lord Bridgerton.”
“Miss Worthing,” he responded in kind, offering the same tight-lipped smile as always.
As Anthony closed the door behind you, Eloise fell back onto the sofa with an exasperated sigh. “Why do you treat her so, brother? Now that my dear Penelope has truly set off into society to find a match, she is the only one that shares my sentiments about our fates. I understand I might not be able to avoid it, but you should at least allow me this much.”
“She is nothing but trouble,” Anthony responded as he crossed his arms behind his back. “It is in her best interest to find a husband as soon as possible, and yet she resists it with all her might. I should only imagine the kinds of things she is putting into your mind. Are you aware that she has been spotted in the heart of London attending rallies more boisterous than even you could handle?”
“Truly?” she asked, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “Oh, I must insist she bring me to her next one!”
“That is not my—” Anthony rubbed his forehead with a sigh. “You are just as impossible as her, are you aware?”
Eloise grinned. “Now that is a compliment.”
-
Lady Danbury’s ball was shaping up to be as dreadful as you had imagined.
Your initial plans of blending in with the wallpaper as you watched from afar and enjoyed the music were foiled almost as soon as you had arrived — you faulted the gems embedded into your dress, insisted upon by your mother — for no sooner had you stepped foot into the main hall did the baron approach you.
“Lady Worthing, Miss Worthing,” he greeted with a slight bow, and he eyed you with a smile. “How wonderful to see the two of you here — especially you, my dear. May I say how ravishing you look in that gown?”
“You may not—” you began to say, but your mother cut you off with a very unladylike jab to your side, though masterfully disguised in her usual fashion.
“Thank you, Lord Cardew,” she said. “I apologize for my daughter; she is simply caught up in all the emotions she has been experiencing since her debut. She means no disrespect.”
“I understand, my lady. Rest assured, I do not mind.” Lord Cardew extended a hand toward you, and your entire body stiffened. “Might I raise your spirits with a dance?”
“I apologize, my lord,” you said emphatically. “My dance card is full.”
Your mother forced out a bright laugh as she grasped your arm; it seemed you were already getting to her. “That certainly is funny, my dear! But of course, your card cannot be full as we have just arrived, and one does not refuse a baron in such a way.”
You opened your mouth to protest once more but she leaned into your side and muttered into your ear. “Just one dance with him. The sooner you do it, the sooner it will be over.”
The thought of your time spent within a yard of the baron being over as soon as possible was certainly an appealing notion, enough so that you plastered on a smile and took Lord Cardew’s hand.
“I would be… honored to dance with you, my lord.” You had to force the words out, but he seemed none the wiser as his smile widened and he led you onto the floor.
“I have had my eye on you for quite a long time, my lady,” he said as the two of you took your positions and seamlessly joined in with the flow of the other dancers. “You were a sure sight during your debut — truly, none of the other ladies hold even the slightest candle to you.”
“You flatter me, Lord Cardew.” You grimaced as his hand inched further down your waist and you glanced over at the orchestra, as if hoping the desperation in your eyes alone would be enough for them to cut the waltz short. Unfortunately, your silent plea achieved nothing.
“I must admit, it is a surprise you have only just now entered society,” he said. You noticed your mother smiling at you in the group of many spectators, and you glared at her as best you could in the time the baron was looking away from you. The second his attention turned to you once more, that practiced smile was back in place. “Whyever did it take so long?”
“I am afraid it is a private matter, my lord,” you said as politely as you could, but he shook his head.
“You needn’t hold your tongue around me, dear,” he said as he spun you out and then took you back in, your entire body stiffening as he pulled you far closer than what was appropriate. “You do not extend the notion to any other member of the ton, so I do not see why it should apply to me.”
“My mother simply decided to give me a few more years of respite,” you lied. “It is only this year that she decided she could not delay my debut any longer, so alas, I am here.”
“And the season is made that much better by your presence, my lady.” Lord Cardew offered a smile and you were only able to manage one so thin it hardly qualified as a smile. But your invisible pleas must have done something because the waltz began to play to a close, and you had to hold back your breath of relief as you both bowed to each other.
“Thank you for the dance and your… myriad of compliments, Lord Cardew,” you said as you straightened again.
“It would do you good to get used to them,” he said with a smile, “for they will extend all throughout this courtship and our betrothal — you may have to work harder for them in marriage.”
Your world stopped spinning on his axis as your entire body stiffened, frozen to the spot.
“I am sorry?” you breathed, your eyes surely as wide as dinner plates as you attempted to process his words.
“Compliments may be genuine, but they are also a ploy,” he said. “Without them, how does a man expect to claim a woman? Of course, after marriage a man does not have to fight for her affections anymore, so they—”
“I am not talking about your… views,” you interrupted sharply. “I was not aware of any engagement.”
“Miss Worthing,” Lord Cardew sighed, his tone nothing less than patronizing, “it is obvious even to the most oblivious that your family is in need of whatever they can get — after our dance at the debutante ball, your father approached me and all but begged me to take your hand. Of course, I prefer to enjoy the process through a bit of courting, but rest assured, it will end in a proposal.”
That was the shattering point. You had always known that your future hardly lay in your hands despite all your attempts to move it there, but you’d not expected your father to so easily yield— no, not yield, beg— to a man like the one that stood in front of you.
You felt the rate of your heart speed up as your breathing fell shallow, and you knew you would not last another second in the middle of it all.
“Excuse me, my lord.” You extracted your hand from his grasp, thankful for the barrier of your gloves however thin it may have been, and offered what you hoped was a convincing smile over the anxieties running rampant below the surface. “I find myself quite parched after our dance — I shall return soon after fetching a glass of lemonade.”
Before the baron could protest you turned on your heel and set off towards the refreshment table. You poured the liquid from the pitcher into your glass with shaking hands, eyeing the baron out of your peripherals once you finished. The moment his attention moved away from you, you set your glass down and hurried off, easily dissolving into the crowd from years of practice. You glanced over your shoulder once more to ensure you were not being followed before you ducked around the corner. The second you were out of sight you picked up your skirts and ran, every step away from the main hall reducing the weight on your shoulders.
If this was to be the model for the rest of the season, you were sure that you would not survive it — you would not even survive another second in Lord Cardew’s presence.
You nodded your thanks to the servants as they opened the outside doors to you, and you sucked in a large breath of fresh air once you reached the gardens. Thankfully, the nobles here numbered few — enough for you to remain proper being there on your own while still allowing yourself time to recover from what your parents wanted to be the start of the rest of your life.
You leaned against the wall, the night breeze cooling your flushed cheeks. You hadn’t the slightest clue how you were supposed to get out of anything involved Lord Cardew, especially the inevitable proposal — no matter the number of your denials, it was just a nicety; the second he tired of your stubbornness, he would go over your head to your mother or father and trap you in a marriage you would spend the rest of your life resenting.
You cursed underneath your breath as you allowed yourself a moment to look out over the gardens. If only he were not a baron — then he would be any other common suitor, one that would be no closer to royalty than you and therefore requiring no special treatment.
It was then that your gaze caught hold of a certain viscount, standing around idly amongst the small groups of people with a flute of champagne in his hand.
It was no surprise to see Anthony away from the party — his infamy did not come from his eagerness to participate in the season — but you did smile a bit at it all. He was doing the exact same thing you were, running away from responsibility; he just had the added benefit of alcohol. Maybe the two of you shared more similarities than you thought.
Your eyes suddenly widened.
Perhaps there was a way to get out of your predicament.
You hitched your skirt up yet again and all but ran over to the viscount, and his eyebrows rose as you approached.
“Miss Worthing?” he greeted with a hint of confusion, though he didn’t get the chance to continue.
“Anthony,” you breathed, coming to a stop in front of him as you loosened your grip on your skirt, “I am in dire need of your assistance.”
“Lord—“ he began to correct almost instinctively, but you shook your head.
“I’ve no time for a lecture,” you interrupted. “I need you to court me.”
He looked so utterly dumbfounded that if your social life wasn’t in the hanging you would have laughed. “Excuse me?”
“I need you to court me,” you repeated. “Right now.”
Anthony frowned. “My lady, are you feeling alright?”
“No,” you responded curtly, “no, I am not alright, seeing as the one man that my mother seems intent on me marrying is the single most despicable man in all the world. There is no possible way for me to get out of it alone, which is why I need your assistance.”
He looked completely vexed, so many emotions warring on his face that you could hardly pick out one from the bunch. “I apologize for your predicament, but what could I possibly have to do with this?”
“My mother is so intent on the union because he is a baron, and she is fully convinced that all of our problems will go away when I become a baroness alongside him. Because a man of such rank is interested in me, she will not be satisfied with anything less. But you—” you gestured towards him with your hand, a smile blooming on your face, “—you are a viscount. You are more, not less, and if I am thought to become a viscountess myself, then both my mother and every other suitor, especially Lord Cardew, will finally leave me be.”
“Now I am even more convinced you have fallen ill,” Anthony muttered. “May I, if no one else has, inform you of how ill-advised a plan like this is?” He shook his head, that incredulous expression still on his face. “Even if it wasn’t, this is coming out of the blue — I do not want to marry you, my lady.”
“Nor I you!” you exclaimed. “You’ve as little desire as I to be bound in a marriage; what better option than pretending to have eyes for each other to avoid a true commitment? At the end of the season, we will stage an argument after we’ve realized that we cannot continue into a union with each other, because I find you completely infuriating and you realize that I am simply far too good for you—”
“Excuse me?”
You ignored him as you continued on your tirade. “You will no longer be courting me then — you will be free to delay your search for yet another season, and I will be free to live the life of a spinster.”
Anthony frowned once more; you feared if he continued like this in your conversations, his brow would be permanently furrowed. “I was not aware that was a desirable status for a woman like yourself.”
“Well, perhaps not the title, but the life…” You sighed dreamily, allowing yourself to gaze off for a moment before looking back to Anthony. “An unmarried life would allow me the freedom I have always dreamed of. All I require is your fake courtship for one season, just one, and I will be able to find the rest of the way on my own.”
Anthony was silent for a beat before he sighed. “I sympathize with your plight, Miss Worthing — it is one that Eloise finds herself in as well — but there is little I can do for you. This is not a matter I should be involved in; it is a conversation much better suited for your own family.”
“Do you believe that I have not tried?” you bemoaned, gesturing with exasperated motions. “The life that I want is one that you could have for yourself at any time. If you ever tire of society and decide you no longer want to be the man of the house, you could up and leave and no one would hear from Anthony Bridgerton again. You have seven siblings to leave in your wake, all there to pick up after you should you go. But for me — the sole daughter, the sole child of the Worthing family — I will never be able to have that life. Not without more sacrifice than I alone am able to give.”
Anthony opened his mouth to respond, but all he did was stare at you with unwavering eyes, the silence in between the two of you weighing heavily in the air.
You screwed your eyes shut as you heard your name called in a familiarly unwanted voice, and with a shaky breath you opened them and looked at Anthony. The saccharine sweet smile you offered him was undercut by the pure desperation in your eyes as you lowered your voice to a whisper. “You’re out of time, my lord.”
Just as the words left your mouth the man you’d been trying to avoid turned the corner, and you took in and let out a deep breath in preparation as you inched closer to Anthony.
“Miss Worthing!” the baron exclaimed as he came to a stop in front of you, and you had to hold back a grimace at his bow.
“Lord Cardew,” you greeted, latching onto Anthony’s arm as quickly as you could. Though Anthony stiffened at your touch, he allowed it. “I admit, I was not expecting you tonight.”
“You have been a tricky one to find, my lady. You all but disappeared after our dance.” The lord’s smile quickly faded as Anthony cleared his throat next to you, and in a move that surprised you, pulled you closer to him.
“Have you considered that it was by design?” he asked curtly, and you had to hold back your shock. “Miss Worthing is quite busy at the moment.”
“Is that so?” Lord Cardew folded his arms behind his back, his expression unreadable. “Bridgerton, surely you are not suggesting—”
“That he is courting me?” you interrupted with a slight smile. “It is more than a suggestion, my lord — it is the truth. I’m sorry to say that I am quite occupied; for the rest of the season, might I add.”
The lord carefully controlled his surprise, the emotion only betrayed by the slightest raise of his brow as he looked at Anthony. “This is quite prominent news — such official courting, and so early on in the season? I had not heard even a word of it until just now.”
“It is the truth, Cardew,” Anthony answered, “I assure you. It is high time I’ve found a wife, and I believe there could be none better than Miss Worthing.”
“How interesting,” he noted tersely, his eyes set on you as he spoke. “It is a disappointment you lose your eligibility so soon, my lady. Though perhaps there is still time for your head to be turned for a more… suitable match.”
“You dare to question Miss Worthing’s honor?” Anthony pressed, and he pulled you closer to him ever so slightly. “I will not have a man such as yourself setting his eyes upon my future wife and insulting her so.”
Lord Cardew set his jaw before he bowed his head reluctantly to both you and Anthony. “My sincerest apologies, Bridgerton—”
“Lord Bridgerton,” Anthony interrupted, and once again you had to bite back your smile at the baron’s visible frustration.
“...My sincerest apologies, Lord Bridgerton,” he corrected, but Anthony tutted.
“I believe you owe an apology to the lady as well.”
“Do not test me,” Lord Cardew snapped. “And do not think I will give up so easily on account of your ridiculous claim.”
“Watch yourself, Cardew,” Anthony warned. “Should it come down to it, you do not want an enemy in me.”
Lord Cardew glowered at Anthony for so long the tension could be felt in the air, until he finally released his anger in a huff and stormed off in a way unbecoming of a gentleman. With every step he took away from you, the more the weight on your shoulders dissolved.
“That is the man your mother wants you to marry?” Anthony marveled.
You nodded as you smoothed your dress down and let out a haggard breath. “It is a rather damning fate, is it not?”
“Indeed,” he murmured, his own gaze fixed in the distance from where Lord Cardew left. “I suppose it is fortunate you have another suitor.”
“It is,” you agreed. “Though I must admit, I did not expect you to go along with me.”
“It was just as much of a surprise to me,” Anthony admitted, and when you turned to him he still seemed slightly shocked.
“Then I am all the more thankful for it. You have no idea how much you have just saved me.”
“I cannot believe what you have dragged me into,” Anthony lamented, and as he extracted his arm from your grasp you took a few steps away from him.
“Do not worry,” you reassured. “I promise, it is nothing but a ruse — just to keep that awful man away from me until he finds a match in a lady that is not me.”
“And how long will that take?
“I haven’t the slightest,” you offered with a tight smile, “but I pray it will be soon.”
Anthony let out a loose sigh as he rubbed his forehead. “This is going to be a very long season.”
“Indeed it will be.” You cleared your throat and took a moment to readjust the neckline of your dress before offering your hand to Anthony. “Now. Shall we indulge the ton with a dance to close out their night and give them something worthwhile to gossip about?”
“I believe I am the one meant to offer you my hand,” he noted.
You shrugged. “I suppose I am already preparing for my freedom outside of society.”
Anthony stared at you for a moment before his lips quirked up. “You certainly waste no time.”
“One must be efficient if they wish to get anything out of life.” You extended your hand further, your own smile blooming.
“I agree.” Anthony took your hand and placed it on the crook of his elbow. “Shall we?”
You nodded. “We shall.”
—
Lady Danbury’s ball had been the place of endless gossip after your first dance with Anthony — you now understood how he felt during the social season, for you were now, along with him, the talk of the ton, the center of attention from dozens of miffed mothers. To them, you were the childish, thankless, pathetic excuse for a lady that had taken away their daughter’s chance at viscountess. You had to admit, you did not at all enjoy the spotlight, and on your third dance you’d started to wonder if this truly was the best option — for both your sanity and your feet.
After all you had committed yourself to in the night before, you had been looking forward to at least sleeping soundly once you retired for the evening. And though you had been granted the relief, it was taken away far too early.
The steps of your lady’s maid alerted you to her presence even before she threw the drapes open, sunlight immediately filtering into your room.
“Julia,” you groaned as you covered your eyes from the fresh rays with your arm, “you know I adore you, but I do not know how much longer I can handle these early wakings.”
“My sincerest apologies miss, but your mother insisted upon it.”
That was the quickest way to get your attention. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and when you looked up, you were, true to Julia’s word, greeted with your mother.
“What are you doing here so early?” you mumbled, turning onto your side and burying your head in your pillows to avoid the sun. “I don’t have any arrangements planned.”
“The newest edition of Whistledown came this morning,” she explained, walking over to sit down on the side of your bed. “And my dear, you must read it.”
You groaned once more, reluctantly turning over and sitting up as your mother offered you the pamphlet.
Dearest Reader,
Is there anything as exciting as the beginning of a brand new season? The ton comes to life once more, with frantic mamas and earnest debutantes all finishing last minute preparations in the hopes that they will be crowned the season’s diamond. I certainly know it is a modiste’s favorite time of year.
You raised an eyebrow at her. “This is truly thrilling news, mother.”
She hit your elbow lightly and pointed towards the end of the edition. “Skip here.”
I had not anticipated delivering this news so early on in the season, nor ever, if I am being truthful, but I do admit it excites me. It appears as though two of the most stubborn heads to set foot in London have found solace in each other, in a move that not even I expected.
The rumors are indeed true: The Viscount Bridgerton has finally commenced his search for a wife after years of rakedom, and his choice in courtship is none other than Miss Y/N Worthing. Both are known for their outspoken views against marriage, but maybe it is the common dissatisfaction that has brought the pair together. Whatever the reason, they are sure to shake up England together.
I am ever looking forward to how this courting will end, so fret not; every step of this unusual union will be uncovered. Oh, gentlest reader, I only hope you are just as intrigued as I.
Yours Truly,
Lady Whistledown.
You hummed, unenthused as you handed the leaflet back to her. “I’m in Whistledown.”
“Unbelievable,” your mother said with a shake of her head, and you closed your eyes as you let your head fall back against the pillows. “This is huge, darling!”
“Really, mother?” you sighed. “You pay no mind to any of my other accomplishments, but getting mentioned by Lady Whistledown is worth your attention. I do not understand it.”
“It is not Lady Whistledown I am concerned with,” your mother admonished with a glance in your direction, “you know that. It is the fact that you are being courted by Anthony Bridgerton! My darling, you are to be a Bridgerton! Oh, I am so proud of you!”
How ironic, you thought, that the one thing your mother is proud of you for is something that is not even real. It truly is just your luck.
“Yes,” you responded idly, “it is quite exciting. But there is no guarantee that I will be a Bridgerton, mother. All the viscount did was request a dance, and all I did was indulge him. It can hardly even be considered courting.”
She sighed, immensely exasperated. “One does not simply dance with an eligible lady as a bachelor if one does not intend on courtship. Have I not taught you anything?”
“On the contrary, I argue that you have taught me far too much.” You fixed her with a pointed look. “I should think there is no room left for anything of actual importance after all the meaningless dances and instruments you have forced me to learn.”
“I understand you are not a fan of quadrilles, but do not lie to me and say that you do not enjoy the violin.” Her lips quirked up in amusement, and you could see in her eyes she was going back to it. “That was a particularly interesting summer, when you decided to try your hand at as many instruments as you could find.”
You chuckled. “Well, if we couldn’t afford a teacher, I was going to try as many as possible to see what clicked. I just did not anticipate enjoying all of them so much.”
Your mother smiled at you, and you were reminded of how fond you were of her company when marriage wasn’t on her mind. “You are certainly more gifted than me at the pianoforte — I was a complete wreck. My voice was my saving grace.”
You laughed again with a knowing nod — your mother accompanied you more times than you could remember with her singing, steadfast through every single instrument you insisted on learning. But your thoughts were interrupted with a yawn, and you covered your mouth with the palm of your hand, giving your mother a soft smile once it passed.
“As much as I am enjoying these memories, I must admit I am exhausted,” you said as you leaned back against your pillows. “And your early rising for the sake of Whistledown has not helped.”
“Darling,” your mother sighed. “Ladies start their day bright and early — now that you have debuted, you do not get to laze around all morning and read all day. You have duties you must attend to.”
“I do not have any engagements today!” you protested. “If you so approve of the viscount courting me, I am in need of my rest to deal with him. He is quite a handful.”
Before your mother could respond, another maid poked her head in through the open door. “Excuse me, misses — forgive me for the interruption, but Miss Worthing has a caller. He is waiting in the drawing room.”
Your mother’s eyes widened with excitement as she stood up from your bed, satisfaction underneath her smile. “You do have an engagement, my dear, and I cannot wait to see who. Maybe it is the viscount himself!” She squeezed her hands together, her smile growing larger by the second. “Oh, how exciting!”
Before she exited your room she looked at your lady’s maid. “Julia, will you assist her in getting ready? I do not trust her judgment on such an important matter.”
“Of course, my lady,” she nodded, and you blew out a loose sigh as your mother closed the door behind her.
If this truly was Anthony, you needed to ensure any future meetings were set at a much later hour. Elsewise, you would not survive this courtship either.
—
“So,” Julia couldn’t help the smile on her lips as she laced up your corset, meeting your eyes in the mirror, “you must explain to me how you have gone from an avid hater of marriage to being courted by Anthony Bridgerton, of all men! I believe we have stood in this exact same position before, only with the topic of conversation being his latest outrageous act by word of Miss Eloise rather than his courtship of you.”
You sighed, shivering slightly as her cold fingers brushed over your shoulder, and shook your head. “I do not even think I can give you an answer to that, Jules. It certainly is… something.”
She chuckled and began to help you into the dress she had selected, the light blue fabric embroidered with white thread designs hanging off of your build in a simple but flattering way. “Whatever the reason may be, I hope you know I am proud of you. I know it is not easy to embark on a journey like this, especially one you have been so firm in denying, but I have the utmost faith that you will succeed. You are doing a great service to your family.”
You opened your mouth to say something but she interrupted you with that slight smile again. “And before you claim the opposite, know that I have always been proud of you, not just in your social season. You have blossomed into a truly wonderful lady, and that will not change whether or not you gain the weight of a ring on your finger.”
Your lips quirked up into a small smile of your own as Julia laid a locket around your neck, letting your hair go once she clasped the two ends together. “What would I do without you?”
“Most likely find another much less willing servant to rant to,” she joked. “But you needn’t worry — I am not going anywhere.”
“And for that, I am eternally thankful,” you said, “though I do not think I am granted the same fate.”
Julia smiled and smoothed out the sleeves of your dress before she turned you around, that steadfast confidence in her eyes that you knew so well helping to calm your nerves. “You will do just fine, my lady. Anthony Bridgerton is only above you in title and nothing else — I have the utmost faith that you can handle him.”
You had no worries about handling him — your troubles lay more in the fact that your arrangement was nothing more than an illusion. Anthony was not particularly known for his patience, and though you had an agreement, your fears were anchored in the true reliability of your fake beau. It was not at all out of the realm of possibility for the viscount to reach his limit and ruin this entire thing for the both of you.
Though you often aired your troubles to your lady’s maid, you could not do that now— not when your troubles were of such a sort. So instead you merely took a deep breath as you smoothed out your skirt and adjusted the neckline of your dress.
“Indeed. Now,” you turned to face her with a smile, “shall we?”
-
You trailed through the hallways of your estate with Julia by your side, trying not to show too much of your disdain. Anthony’s courtship of you did not mean you had to act the part of a doting lady, but it did mean your civility was required.
Of course, a small part of you hoped that it was not Anthony who sat in your drawing room. The amiability required by his courtship was not necessary for a normal suitor — at least if another man was your caller, you needn’t hold your tongue.
Your hopes were dashed the moment you stepped inside the open doors of your drawing room, trying your best to keep a straight face at the sight of the viscount. He did not share your feelings, made obvious by the smile that bloomed on his lips as he stood up from the couch.
“Ah, Miss Worthing!” he greeted. “I was wondering when you would show.”
You responded with a tight smile of your own. “When one shows up unannounced, he should expect delays. In fact, he should consider himself lucky for even earning an audience.”
Your mother laughed uncomfortably as she stood up from her chair, guiding you over to Anthony with an arm on your shoulder.
“Forgive my daughter, Viscount Bridgerton, please,” she said with the voice of an exasperated mother. “It is still early, and she has not yet broken her fast — she is slightly irritable.”
“It is of no worry, Lady Worthing,” he reassured, and Anthony sat down with you. “I hope I was not an imposition.”
“You—”
“—Are not at all!” Your mother interrupted once again before you could say he most certainly was. She settled in her chair and picked up her embroidery hoop once more, offering a pleasant smile to the two of you. “Please, feel free to converse as if I am not even here.”
You offered her a tight, mocking smile as you turned to Anthony, lowering your voice so as to keep your insults private.
“You are a cruel man,” you muttered, glancing at your mother out of the corner of your eye to ensure she could not hear your true words. “This was not how I hoped our partnership would begin.”
“However so?” Anthony asked, tilting his head to the side slightly. He was clearly enjoying your pain, of which he was the cause. It was truly irritating. “If I recall correctly, this entire affair was your idea.”
“Showing up as an unannounced caller, and at this hour nonetheless?” You shook your head. “This arrangement is meant to be equally beneficial. I cannot benefit if I am forced to bear constant early wakings.”
“I am an early riser, my lady,” he said, and you could not figure out whether or not his austerity was genuine. “And I have long held the belief that the morning is the best time to achieve anything, when one’s mind is at its most alert.”
“Your ‘alert mind’ is doing you no good if you are unable to see the effect this has on me,” you said, glaring very pointedly at him as you lowered your voice even more. “This is a fake courtship. None of this is necessary.”
“I see it very clearly. I figured putting up with my own sudden visits could be your payment in return for springing something like this on me at the last possible moment,” Anthony said. ”As you know, I am a man of honor, a gentleman at that— if you want anyone to believe this, you will have to deal with my actions.”
“You could have refused,” you pointed out.
“I should hope you do not see me as horrid enough to allow that man to actually court you,” Anthony countered with a slight frown.
“Daphne’s season spells out something entirely different.”
“You are aware of how much longer this arrangement will seem if you insist on arguing your way through it,” he said dryly.
“It is in my nature,” you responded with a smile. “It is how I’ve managed to avoid suitors thus far.”
He hummed. “Perhaps I should have been taking tips from you long before this season. No matter how often I expressed my intentions to stay unmarried, countless mothers continued to all but throw their daughters at me. It’s not enjoyable in the slightest.”
“Imagine how the young ladies feel,” you mused. “Being forced to try their hand at you knowing you fully despise them.”
Anthony raised an eyebrow. “Is that not what any suitor considering you must deal with?”
Your nose crinkled at the idea. “I… suppose you are indeed correct.”
“I often am,” he responded, his smugness not lost on you.
Your gaze flitted away from him for a moment before an idea popped into your head. Thus far, it seemed that this fake courtship between you and Viscount Bridgerton would be a test of who could irritate the other the most without breaking the illusion you were creating.
Two could certainly play at that game.
“Why yes, my lord!” you exclaimed, purposefully raising your voice so that your conversation could now be heard. In your peripherals you saw your mother look up from her embroidery hoop as well as Anthony’s sudden frown, and you could hardly hold back your smile. “I would love to visit the marketplace with you. How kind of you to notice that I am in need of a new reticule.”
Your scheme quickly dawned on him, but beyond the slightest crease of his eyebrows there was no sign of the distaste surely brewing underneath the surface.
“The marketplace?” You turned as your mother spoke, a satisfied smile on her lips. “That sounds like a lovely idea, Lord Bridgerton. Thank you immensely for your kindness.”
“Of course,” he replied easily, and after he stood up himself he offered a hand to you. You stood up without it, causing only an amused expression to flit across Anthony’s face as he looked over at your mother. “Should you like to accompany us?”
“Oh, no.” She brushed it off with her hand as she beamed at you. “I do not want to intrude on the new lovers. Julia, would you please chaperone them?”
Your lady’s maid nodded with a smile. “Of course, my lady.”
Anthony offered his arm to you, and this time you took it, albeit very begrudgingly. “Do you hear that?” he muttered with obvious amusement, leaning to speak into your ear as the two of you walked out. “We are new lovers.”
“You could at least act as if you are not enjoying this,” you whispered back.
“Oh, but I am,” he smiled. “And you should be as well! This was your idea, and yet you are already completely miserable. What were you thinking when you proposed this to me?”
You huffed. “I was thinking the man that has avoided marriage for his entire life would not be so insistent on conducting a real courtship.”
Anthony simply chuckled. “Then it appears you still have much to learn about me.”
-
The fresh air of the London streets helped in clearing your mind as you strolled through the marketplace, despite the fact that you were arm in arm with Anthony Bridgerton. It did bring you some satisfaction to know that you had at least dealt yourself into the fold with this outing, but you had a feeling Anthony could play this game far better than you.
After all, a man did not become the head of his household and prepare his myriad of siblings for their respective seasons without picking up some skills of his own, even if he has not yet chosen a wife — especially if he was without a wife, it seemed, as Anthony had all the charm and knowledge of how to seduce a lady and yet none of the results. You surmised that was just the way he liked it.
If anything, this was just as much of a game to him as it was to you. Some way to make himself feel like even more of a gentleman while avoiding the ton and having a bit of fun all the same.
“My lady, did you hear me?”
You blinked a few times as you looked to Anthony, shaking your head. “Apologies. My thoughts are much more interesting than you.”
He chuckled. “You wound me so, Miss Worthing. However am I to cope knowing the woman I am courting does not see me the same way?”
“Do you always act like this?” you questioned. “Because if that is the case, it is certainly no wonder you have not found a wife. You are far too irritating for any lady to possibly stand.”
“Did you choose me for your task simply to ridicule me?” Anthony asked instead. “Although I admit I enjoy your company, Miss Worthing, I am not sure if I can handle an entire season of insults.”
“You have seven siblings,” you said. “You have handled fifteen years of insults.”
“Ah, but they are all the more scathing coming from you.” You chuckled a bit at his words, and Anthony continued. “But truly, what was your reason for choosing me over any other man?”
“I chose you because of your title,” you said simply.
“There must be other viscounts or earls for you to rope into this scheme,” Anthony said, “other men that do not annoy you half as much as I.”
You smiled a bit. “Truth be told, you are the only one I am acquainted with that is of higher ranking than the baron. Even if I knew others, the plan only came to mind when I saw you out in the gardens last night, and you are the only one that I could think of that would even entertain my offer.”
Anthony hummed in acknowledgment. “It is rather fortunate I was there, then— it will be a welcome reprieve for the season, not having to deal with mamas throwing their daughters at me left and right.”
“See?” you said. “It was purposeful on my part. Mutually beneficial, just as I told you.”
He chuckled, and you smiled. The two of you continued to walk idly through the marketplace, his attention lingering on each stall for a few seconds before passing to the next. The silence between the two of you was surprisingly comfortable, especially with the ambiance of the city you so enjoyed, which is why the question that came out surprised you just as much as him.
“Why did you choose me?”
Anthony gave you a curious look. “I’m afraid you have to be more specific, my lady.”
“By agreeing to this ruse, you chose me, just as I chose you,” you said. “Why would you do such a thing when you are not yet officially looking for a wife?”
“…I suppose your words struck me,” he responded. “Your position is not one of envy— the sole heir to a family in need, put on a pedestal to a horde of suitors that you don’t desire in the slightest. I am in a similar position, having to marry for the good of my family, but you are correct. The level of scrutiny I face is nowhere near the amount you must put up with, and the idea of you marrying…” Anthony grimaced, “that sorry excuse for a man? No one with good conscience could deny you.”
“So you accepted because of sympathy,” you said.
He chuckled. “Perhaps. Would you rather I outright denied you?”
You smiled yourself as you shrugged. “No. I just enjoy questioning everything you do.”
Anthony shook his head, though he was clearly amused. “Perhaps we should continue this courtship for real— you already bother me as much as a true wife.”
And at that, you laughed aloud. “And you irritate me as much as a true husband.” You glanced behind you to see your lady’s maid walking a distance behind you, pretending not to listen but very obviously eavesdropping.
Anthony glanced back as well and looked at you, catching onto it. “Will she be a problem?”
“Julia?” you asked, and when he nodded you laughed again. “Spare no mind — she has been one of my closest confidantes, and I hers, for as long as I can remember. Should she overhear anything, she will not repeat it.”
“You are close with your lady’s maid?” Anthony asked, and you frowned.
“Are you not acquainted with your manservants?”
“No,” he said, “they are simply servants. I’m friendly with them of course, but certainly not close. Not to the level of sharing secrets.”
“I cannot imagine that,” you sighed. “We employed her three years ago, and since then she has become one of my best friends. Julia knows some of my closest secrets— not having such a bond with the person who spends so much time with you is nearly impossible in my eyes.”
Anthony went silent, and when you looked over you saw him staring at you with an odd look in his eyes.
“What?” you asked, and he shook his head.
“Nothing,” he said, and then he stopped you in front of a market stall that was selling coin purses and reticules. “Should we complete the task we embarked on this journey for?”
You wanted to push him on the subject of his thoughts, but you decided not to as you gave him a smile instead. “So formal, my lord. But I suppose it cannot hurt.”
Anthony picked up a light blue reticule, the white embroidered floral pattern particularly catching your eye. “This one rather suits you, I think. It matches your gown.”
“You’ve got quite an eye!” you exclaimed, taking it from him and holding it up to your dress. You weren’t one to indulge in luxuries such as mindless shopping — you couldn’t quite afford it, to be truthful — but… it did compliment your outfit, and it was a lovely purse.
But you did not even have a chance to deliberate any further, as Anthony was already talking with the merchant. Before you knew it he was thanking her and handing over coin, and you raised your eyebrows at him.
“What?” he said, having the gall to not even look ashamed. “You did say you were in need of a new reticule.”
You opened your mouth to protest, tell him that you could not afford to waste money on trivial things such as purses out of instinct, but you realized you did not have to. It was the Bridgerton’s coin, and they were far more affluent than your family— with seven children, they had to be.
And if it was on the Bridgerton’s coin, did it really matter? Would you not be expected to accept gifts from the gentleman courting you?
“...Thank you,” you finally said, and you beckoned Julia over.
“What do you think?” you asked as she stopped next to you, holding it up in front of you to model it. “Does the viscount have a better eye for fashion than I thought?”
Julia grinned. “It is as lovely as you, my lady. The color compliments you perfectly.”
“You flatter me so,” you said with a smile.
“I only tell the truth, Y/N,” she insisted, and you chuckled. “If I may, I’m in need of a few items— do you mind if I wander for a bit?”
“Of course,” you nodded. “Would you like us to wait for you?”
Julia shook her head. “I know the way by heart; I will be fine. Enjoy your time with the viscount.”
She winked at you as she walked past, and you couldn’t stifle your laugh as you rolled your eyes. She would be the death of you, you were certain.
“Shall we, then?” Anthony offered his arm to you, and you nodded as you took it. The two of you began to walk again, the conversation picking up once more.
“Your workers call you by your name?” he asked, and you raised your eyebrows.
“Not all of us are viscounts of important families, Anthony,” you said. “I do not see the need for someone I regard as closely as a sister to call me by a title I’ve no use for. Many would certainly argue I am in no way a lady.”
“If your family is viewed in such a way, then why not try to change their opinion? Why not marry a man of higher standing, bring the Worthing name up with you, and prove the ton wrong?”
“I’ve no need for you to impart your wisdom upon me, Lord Bridgerton,” you chuckled. “In terms of high society, yes, my family is wildly poor. But if we were to just exit the ton, live a normal life in middle class sections of the city, or even move to the country where we can have an even simpler existence, then all of our problems would be solved.” You sighed deeply. “But I do not think my parents will ever choose to do so. I’ve no idea why they are so set on us remaining in Mayfair.”
“You used my title,” Anthony mused, the statement coming out of nowhere after a weighted moment of silence. “Was a walk together all it took for you to find it in yourself a modicum of respect?”
You let out a laugh and looked at him with mirth twinkling in your eyes. “If this walk somehow earned you my respect, then the clarification of it has certainly lost it. Besides; I thought it quite obvious I was merely joking.”
“The more time I spend with you, the more I think that half the insults towards me in Eloise’s repertoire have in fact come from you.” Anthony gave you a pointed look. “Have you anything at all to say about turning my sister against me?”
You shrugged. “I cannot be blamed for Eloise’s own creativity. However she chooses to express it is out of my control.”
Anthony chuckled and glanced away for a moment, before a surprisingly soft gaze found its way to you.
“You are much more than I expected.” He did not say it with disdain, rather an unexpected lightness. Maybe the viscount was not the way that you expected either, with walls surrounding his emotions impenetrable even by the queen’s army and a mind set only on business matters. Maybe it was possible that Anthony Bridgerton truly had a heart.
But you could not tell him that you were already beginning to see him in a different light — no, that would mark you as the loser of this game you’d started. You were quite good at irritating others, Anthony included, as you’d realized after years of friendship with Eloise. It could not be too difficult to continue it under the guise of a courtship.
So instead you shrugged, an amused smile on your lips. “Perhaps there is still much for you to learn of me.”
And in that moment, looking into Anthony’s eyes, you would’ve given anything to hear his thoughts. But you could not, and so when he smiled back at you, it was merely a smile.
“Perhaps there is," he said.
-
perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator
bridgerton tags: @theonewithallthemilkshakes @milkiane
anthony bridgerton tags: @gwenebear @lurkymurker @likeballet @tommymcartney
#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton fic#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton fic#anthony bridgerton fanfic#x reader#bridgerton imagine#sadie writes
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Buzzsaw [Buggy x Reader]
Part 1: Introductions, Troublesome Girl
warnings: fem reader, oc insert, slow burn, age gap mention(reader is 20), blood/injury, reference to violence and murder, set before the events of One Piece, not completely proof read
a/n: I decided to go through with the idea of making my own series since I’ve been inspired by all of the fics others have made! I hope you guys like this loollll I’ll try to make sure to update as frequently as possible. Also there’s this part where Y/n introduces herself with her last name first, I only did that because in OP a lot of the characters do that too. Tbh I don’t think I’ll continue this if you guys don’t like it😭so please feel free to send in any opinions or critiques!! (This fic is about anime/manga Buggy btw)
“What do we think, boys?” Buggy asked as his men kneeled down next to the unconscious body of a woman. She was still breathing, but was bleeding out slowly. Her clothes were drenched in blood, more noticeable on her white coat.
“She’s loosing a lot of blood. Should we take her back to the ship?” One of his crew members asked.
Buggy squinted, rubbing his stubbled chin for a moment as he looked up in thought, “Hmmm..” he looked back down at the woman.
“Oh what the hell, I am feeling a bit generous today.” Buggy said before kneeling down to gently pick her up. She was light, extremely light, he knew that she had to get medical attention fast before she died.
“What the hell was she even doing out here anyway?” Cabaji questioned, “This island is desolate, there’s no town here and judging by her clothes it doesn’t look like she’s apart of a tribe of some sort.”
“It is a bit peculiar. We can ask her questions once she gets fixed up.. well erm, if she doesn’t die on us, that is.” Buggy looked down at the girl in his arms. [H/c] hair fell over her face, her lips slightly parted, there was blood dripping down her face from a head wound. Buggy held her firmly in his arms, carrying her back to the ship.
•
When she awoke, her head was pounding. The smell of musk and sea air filled her nose and made her cringe upon consciousness.
Faint sounds of seagulls could be heard from outside. She sat up and looked around; she was in a dingy make-shift nurses office, but all of her wounds were perfectly bandaged and wrapped up.
She swung her legs over the side of the cot, then looked around some more until she caught the glimpse of a window. Where the hell am I? She stood and made her way towards the glass to look out at her surroundings; there wasn’t any land. “Shit..” she mumbled under her breath before stomping out of the room, wanting to get a better look at where the hell she was.
When she stepped out of the room she was met with a long corridor of other doors, but at the end of it was a bright tunnel of light that she followed. It led her to the main deck, she looked up, holding an arm over her eyes to block out the morning sun. The girl was met with a Jolly Roger with a big red dot where the nose should be. What the hell?
She ran over to the edge of the ship, putting her hands on the railing as she looked down at the sea, she saw her reflection in the water far below, her face was clean, and a huge bandage was placed on the right side of her hairline, where her injury once was. The girl looked out to the sea for a while longer, a small wave of relief fell over her, until she remembered what happened.
She stood there for a moment, her breathing shaky as it all played out in her mind once again, her hair blowing through the wind.
“Look who finally woke up! Sorry toots but we had to toss that coat of yours, there’s no way you’d be able to get all that blood out of it anyway.” A deep chuckle emerged from behind her, followed by creaking footsteps against the deck. The girl turned around to face the voice in both shock and surprise. She looked like a ghost at snuck up on her, making the man put his hands up innocently, “Sorry, sorry! Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
The man was tall, broad shoulders and an even broader torso; he practically casted a shadow upon her, making her feel slightly intimidated. The most noticeable feature about him though was right in the center of his face.
At first glance she thought it was fake, but the texture of it, and the fact that his nostrils molded into it made her eyes widen slightly.
“You should be thanking me, my crew found you basically half dead, if it wasn’t for us you’d probably be eaten by the crabs.” The man said, his voice was hoarse but deep, and has a menacing undertone. She looked into his eyes, a deep ocean green, his brow bone casted a shadow over them that just added to his chiseled features. Rough looking stubble painted his jaw.
She felt a warm feeling in her chest, she stood there in awe, not even realizing he was speaking.
“Hm?” The man grunted, confused by her lack of response.. she looked like a stunned possum, “Are you listening to me?!” He growled, “Stop staring at me like that and show some appreciation!! It’s rare for me to be so generous, especially to brats like you.”
“Oh- uh.. are you a pirate?” The girl finally spoke, slowly taking her arms off of the railing and turning her body towards him. The way she moved interested him, soft movements, but careful and wary, like a cat.
“I’m not just any pirate.” The man chuckled and crossed his arms, the sleeves of his red striped t-shirt squeezing against those muscular arms, “I’m Captain Buggy!” He said with a grin, surely this girl knew who he was. He was the most feared, flashy pirate around!
She just stared at him again, with those same big bug eyes. “Eh-.. Captain Buggy the pirate clown!” He frowned at her, narrowing his eyes a bit, “The flashiest, most feared pirate captain in all of the East Blue?!”
“I don’t-.. I don’t really follow pirate stuff.” She replied, making him grumble and press his palm to his forehead for a moment before looking down at her again, “Well remember the name because I’m the reason why you’re still alive! What the hell even happened to you anyway? What causes a little girl like yourself to just.. wind up on a desolate island, half dead?”
Buggy raised a brow as he noticed her demeanor change, she looked to the side nervously, suddenly becoming scared again before she whispered, “Buzzsaw.”
This made the clown’s eyes widen, “What?”
“I was.. kidnapped by Buzzsaw. Me and my friends.”
“Buzzsaw?! The serial torturer that not even the marines mess with?!” Buggy felt a cold chill run down his spine, “It’s rare for someone to survive a run in with him.. he’s gonna be coming after you y’know?”
“He killed all of them.” The girl said, looking back out at sea. Buggy was really starting to regret his decision of saving this girl.. “Your friends?” His voice cracked. What the hell was I thinking?! That maniac is going to come back looking for this girl and I don’t think I’m strong enough to take down someone like him!! Buggy panicked in his mind.
“When I escaped he- didn’t try to fight back. He just let me leave.” She whispered again, not actually speaking to Buggy, but she was trying to make sense of it all. Why did he let me leave?
“Yeah yeah that’s nice. Uh, where do you live exactly?” Buggy laughed nervously, clasping his hands together, “Just tell me, I’ll tell the navigator and you’ll be back home in no time to mommy and daddy!” He grinned, breaking a sweat.
“I can’t go back home.” She turned back towards him, “I have nothing left— I don’t have parents, and now that all of my friends are dead I have nothing.” Tears pooled in her waterline, making Buggy’s heart clench.
Don’t look at me with those eyes..!!
“Well um.. you can’t stay here.” Buggy swallowed, “Sorry kid, but I can’t have you here. You being here just put a huge target on my ship!”
“But you can protect me, can’t you? Like you said, you’re the most feared pirate ever. There’s no way Buzzsaw would come after me if I’m with you.”
Buggy cursed himself for trying to impress this girl moments ago.. Damn it!! Why did I say that!! “Umm. Yes, but.. as a captain I have the duty to keep my crew safe!!” He stood up straight, hands on his hips, “Sure, I can fend off that guy without a problem.. but my crew aren’t the sharpest tools in the toolbox y’know.”
“Then let me join your crew or something! Is there an application I can fill out?” The girl looked up at him again, stepping closer to him, a desperate plead in her voice. “Eh- err.. fine! Fine! You can be on cabin girl duty or whatever..” I need to get rid of this girl!!
“Cabin girl?! Isn’t that for kids?! I’m an adult!!”
“You’re so ungrateful!! You know I can just throw you overboard right?!” Buggy snarled, “You’re lucky I’m even letting you join my crew!”
Buggy and the girl glared at each other for a moment before she huffed and turned away, crossing her arms. “What’s your name, anyway?” Buggy grumbled out, looking her body up and down, Hmm. Not too bad.
“Y/n.” She replied, “L/n Y/n.”
“Do you know anything about being a pirate, Y/n?” Buggy asked her with a smirk. After a few days she’ll be begging to go back home, she looks so weak! She wouldn’t last a day on this crew, that’s a perfect way to get that Buzzsaw off my tail! “Not really. But you can teach me right?” Y/n looked up at him, still glaring, but her voice was soft with a hint of hopefulness. Buggy hummed and put a hand on his chin, “I suppose I could..” Just for now.. until she starts crying to be let off the ship.
Buggy then stepped beside of Y/n, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and holding her firmly to his side with a laugh, “Well here, let me give you a tour of the ship! And a run down of what you’ll be doing for me.”
Y/n couldn’t help but blush. He was so strong, and the way he held her.. she chewed on her bottom lip and looked down at the deck as he led her off, rambling about pirate stuff, but she wasn’t listening. Y/n’s mind began to wander as well, what was she going to do now? Was she going to spend the rest of her life as a pirate, hiding behind this captain for the rest of her life? She couldn’t get the blood curdling screams out of her head, the sound of her friends choking on their own blood, the haunting images of their mangled corpses.
“Are you listening?” Buggy interrupted Y/n’s train of thought. She blinked for a moment, then looked back up at him, “Huh?” She then looked at her surroundings. They were in the lower deck, crates stacked upon crates, some unopened, some not.
“Your first task is simple, take stock of every thing, make sure things are in the right boxes.. shouldn’t be too hard, right?” Buggy gave Y/n a firm pat on the back which nearly knocked her over. “What?! But there’s like a million boxes in here!! And I’m still injured!”
“Well in that case it looks like you’re gonna have a lot of work to do then, huh?” Buggy laughed before stepping out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Y/n to her own devices. That should do it! Surely she won’t be able to finish all of that so easily without a slip up.. and once she makes a mistake I can just kick her off at the next town without feeling like an asshole! Perfect!
The next day, Buggy walked down to the storage room, Cabaji and Mohji in tow behind him with a huge smirk on his face— but when he got there.. Y/n was asleep on top of one of the crates, everything looked clean and orderly. He then bent down to pick something up off the floor, “What’s this?” He grunted, squinting and looking at it as his eyes adjusted to the dark.
It was a clipboard, Y/n had written down each labeled box along with its components, “No way! No way she did this all by herself!! It’s impossible!!”
Buggy’s grumbling was interrupted by a scream from Mohji, then a loud thud as he fell to the floor.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Y/n shouted as she jolted awake. “I didn’t mean to wake you up!! I swear!!” The beast tamer scrambled to his feet, then brushed off dust from his chest.
Buggy stormed over to Y/n, “You- you did all of this?!” He pointed at the clip board.
Y/n rubbed her eyes, then took it from him, “Oh yeah, I did. I organized everything and took stock just like you asked.. how long was I asleep?”
Buggy grumbled and looked down at his wrist, “No idea..”
Y/n furrowed her brows, sitting up on her knees while watching Buggy as he checked his bare wrist as if he was wearing a watch, “What are you looking at?”
Buggy snorted softly when he realized what he was doing, he then jerked his fist down and then growled at Y/n, “That’s none of your concern!!!” He snapped before turning away, his coat swishing behind him flashily as he stomped out of the storage room.
#one piece#one piece buggy#buggy one piece#buggy the clown#buggy x reader#buggy the clown x reader#buggy headcanons#oc x buggy#oc x canon#buggy imagines#one piece x reader#one piece x oc#buggy the star clown#buggy op#op buggy
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Gonna Be Trouble (Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x fem!Reader) Pt. 11
WC: 1.6 k
no warnings
the reunion finally happens
The carrier was finally docked, hoards of sailors fled the vessel as wives, husbands, parents, and children flocked to the water’s edge to get their first glimpse of their loved ones in over 3 months. The aviators often weren’t the first ones off, so you and a now heavily pregnant Gabby waited patiently in Rooster’s bronco.
“Look I love my husband but I’d sooner die than stand out in the cold waiting for thousands of men who may or may not be my husband to get off a damn boat” Gabby groaned, running her hands over her baby bump.
“I haven’t seen any flight suits walk off yet,” you peered through a pair of binoculars Rooster kept in the glove compartment, “once we see them we can head over”
“Ugh,” she exclaimed, “Fine, but I’m gonna complain the whole walk down, I hope you know”
“Oh Gabby…I know” you chuckled.
Coming down on long weekends was routine at this point. Gabby insisted on paying for your flights, you always refused, yet somehow a plane ticket always appeared in your phone wallet a couple days prior to each holiday weekend. This one was special though. Jake’s arrival coincided with MLK day, and you had come down as soon as possible to ensure you were there to welcome him home.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t petrified at the idea of seeing him again. Yes you were back together, and yes you had been talking on the phone every chance he had, but things still didn’t feel normal. His behavior still hurt and worried you, and even though he promised to never hurt you again, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would keep up the pattern when he got home. After all, college wasn’t over for another four months, and in the history of your relationship with Jake, long breaks in seeing each other hadn’t exactly been the healthiest in the past.
Gabby reclined against the headrest of the driver’s seat, “just wake me up when they’re here”
Chuckling, you agreed, and continued to peer through the binoculars as sailors and their luggage came down the carrier ramp.
After what felt like years, you finally spotted the green flight suits that you were oh so familiar with, and through the binoculars you could make out the faint details of mustaches on the faces of many of the aviators.
“Gabby I see Rooster,” you squealed, moving a hand from the binoculars to wack her thigh.
“Hm?” She hummed, still asleep.
“Your husband is here bitch,” you said flatly, making her laugh.
“Ughhhh okay lets go get the idiots.” She said as she slid out the door of the bronco. You stored the binoculars before doing the same.
“This marks the end of our peace,” Gabby joked as you both walked from the parking lot to the greeting area, “and the end of my spending rampage”
“That’s the worst part huh,” you laughed
“You know it…let’s just hope he forgets to check his credit account when he gets home,” she inhaled, shaking her head.
As you made your way to the crowd of people greeting their family members, the anxiety about seeing Jake for the first time swelled. Gabby grabbed your hand, sensing your feelings, to let you know that she was there to support you. Taking a deep breath, you and Gabby scanned the incoming sailors for your men. Rooster was quick to spot you, you standing several inches taller than your friend, and a bright smile broke out on his face as he picked up speed to get to you two.
“I see Rooster,” you said to Gabby, her face lighting up at the mention of his name
Seconds later Rooster broke through the crowd, his hair slicked back and his mustache freshly trimmed. He stopped a couple feet from Gabby, eyes scanning up and down her form, taking an extra second at her belly when he saw just how far along she was. Tears welled in his eyes as they met hers, which were now brimming with tears as well.
“Don’t just stand there pendejo,” her words quivered, “get over here”
Rooster rushed to embrace her, his bags dropping to the ground as his strong arms held his wife close, his calloused hands pulling her towards him from her lower back. You smiled at the couple as they embraced…despite how much they teased each other and complained, they loved each other more than words could ever describe, and they were gonna be great parents.
Rooster came down to capture Gabby’s lips in a passionate kiss, which they remained in for an impressively long time without coming up for air. His hands ran all over her back, taking in every inch of his wife while pushing the appropriate boundaries of what he could touch in public.
Grinning at the happy couple who still had yet to let go of each other, you failed to notice the group of five other flight-suit-clad aviators who had appeared behind you. The sound of a man clearing his throat broke you from your trance. Turning around, you were greeted by Jake….and his new mustache.
Fuck he looked hot.
Tears sprang from your eyes instantly, your feet taking off running towards him before you could even command them to do so. You launched yourself into his arms, his hands scooping you up by your ass as your legs locked around his waist and your face nuzzled into his neck.
“Oh y/n,” he hummed into your hair, sending a shiver down your spine, “I’ve missed you darlin’”
He rocked from side to side, his hands gripping your ass tighter the longer you held on. You couldn’t stop yourself from sobbing no matter how hard you protested. Finally lifting your head from the crook of his neck, you grasped the sides of his face with your hands.
“You have a mustache,” was all you could croak out. Jake laughed, his smile curling the ends of the facial hair, making you die a little inside.
“Yeah, doll, I do,” his accent sounded sweeter than you remembered, “you like it?”
“Fuck Jake,” you kissed him briefly, pulling away before he could deepen the kiss, “I love it”
“Come here,” he grumbled, pulling you down by the base of your neck to meet his lips, your mouths working together as you made out with him. Cheers erupted from the other aviators, who had, unbeknownst to you, been watching the whole ordeal unfold.
“I missed you so much,” you cried to him as he set you down, enveloping you in his strong arms once your feet were on the ground.
“I know baby, I know. I missed you like crazy,” he kissed the top of your head, “I’m so sorry Y/n…for everything” he whispered into your ear.
You sighed, pulling away to look him in the eyes. He meant it, you could see that, “its okay. We’re okay, right?”
“You tell me, gorgeous, do you forgive me?”
“Yeah, Jake, I do.” You played with his mustache, making him smile.
“Alright y’all are making me sick,” Phoenix cut in, snaking an arm around you and pulling you away from Jake into a hug, “I missed you, girl”
“Missed you too Tash,” you hugged her, rubbing her back gently as she whispered how annoying Jake had been while you were broken up.
“Please never break up with him again, I already can’t stand his attitude, but its so much worse when he doesn’t have you” she smacked your shoulder, walking over to Gabby to give her a hug.
“Payback,” you said, turning your attention to the other aviators who were now talking to Jake.
“Y/L/n,” he said, pulling you into a quick hug before stepping aside so you could give Bob and Fanboy a quick hug as well.
“Phoenix tells me my sweet Hangman here was extra annoying for you guys this trip,” you joked, smacking Jake on the chest as he welcomed you back into his embrace.
“Oh my god Y/n,” Rooster groaned, walking over to the group with Gabby under his arm, “you can’t ever give him the silent treatment again. Dear god-”
“We’d be at 20,000 feet and all you’d hear would be ‘do you guys think she’s really done with me’” Fanboy said in a high pitched voice, teasing Jake, making the other aviators laugh.
“Or he’d just sit there,” Payback interjected, already laughing, “in the mess hall, just stabbing his food over and over like he was in some drama movie”
“Bagman was in the dumps,” Bob quipped, making the group laugh harder.
You looked up to Jake, who was laughing along with them, his smile laced with hints of remorse and regret. You shook him a little in your embrace, drawing his attention to you.
“Don’t worry guys, I’m never letting him out of my sights ever again,” you said while looking directly at Jake, he smiled a thankful smile
“We’re all holding you to that, babe,” Phoenix said, slapping you on the back, “now who’s coming to the hard deck tonight?”
“All of us,” Gabby chimed in, “Rooster’s gonna be drinking for two,” she rubbed her baby bump.
The aviators cheered for Rooster and congratulated Gabby as you all walked back to the parking lot. Jake’s arm stayed tight around your shoulder, never letting you drift more than an inch from his side.
--
Taglist: @dempy @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mightiestheroes @taytaylala12 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230
#top gun#jake seresin x reader#top gun fic#top gun maverick#jake 'hangman' seresin x reader#jake seresin#hangman x reader#top gun hangman#top gun x reader#top gun fanfic
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i so badly NEED mumon content in my life. if it’s possible, can you make a drabble or anything about him? NSFW is very welcome 👀
Mumon katsuragi x F!reader
☇ tw: childhood crushes(fufu), NSFW, fuck at first sight, clothed fingering, no proofread we die like men
☇ word count: 3.1k
☇ been awhile since I wrote an entire fic dedicated to some underrated anime boi. Here's a reddit post about mumon so you get to know how epic he is
Meeting you after a decade was the most crucial part of the day.
Ever since your body was still on the point of nurturing at the age of nine, his days of doubting you no matter what benefit a day would give you much time to nourish would remain solid. No matter the count of years on ages it would take you to burgeon—just your body to his very eyes was nothing more than a precarious shape. It never convinced him once that you're even capable of holding a pocket knife to your best defense, nor did it assure him you are very well capable of fetching a healthy body anytime soon. That's the elder mumon you knew from your early years of hankering eagerly after him and katsumi's knack for a natural talent in which you didn't understand.
You were persistent to your own self—where punching the wall and bruising your skin became your regular base on challenging his prudence about you. Katsumi was on the same page as his brother about your case but he was much much more careful with his words and actions. In your best consideration he was your favorite. Much like the people you hung out with the most, his older brother mumon wasn't one. He was always out of your sight until you try to look for him despite how much you hated his raw insults, you still consider him a good friend—he's as good as an inspiration to your ambition anyway.
"Don't try to look for me any longer." Were the words that held an empty hope to your heart. It didn't matter how young you were to realize he wasn't capering at your assumptions about him leaving literally but you had hoped he was. He stood high on top of an old rattletrap where two of you would prattle and share everything that had happened in your day. But right then, he was merely standing on top of a memory filled clunker that was enough to remind him everything you two had given each other. He looked down, his eyes glinting sincerity that also flickered with sorrow—his hands tucked at his hoodie pockets.
"I'm fleeing." He says with sole resolveness. Narrowing his eyes a bit when he saw you scrunch at your gritting teeth—"what..what about katsumi..?" Your timid voice breaks "Don't you care about him?" Furrowing your brows, you slowly balled your hands into tightening fists while you looked at him with the same fierce look you give him when he'd make fun of your weak physique.
He shakes his head, squatting carefully on top of the rattletrap. His eyes heaving into a soft gaze as he looks down at you with a faint smile.
"There's a man waiting to take him in. What's there for me to look after?" He says this with a soft chuckle followed by a wider smile. This didn't help with your temper and you knew better than what lies ahead of his excuse. You narrowed your eyes at him that's about close to tearing up from being upset—he notices this and hops down with ease, now standing before you.
"I figured…." He gently places his hand on your head "it's best if I leave." Your fierce gaze hefted into a softer look once you paid attention to how he handles this. Rubbing your head he continued while he played with your hair.
"I..made a grave mistake, never had I thought of running away from my own problems until now because of how heavy it was for me…" he eyes you with the softest look you've ever seen from him. The way he was behaving towards you made you open your eyes at his situation. "..Y/n" your eyes widen when he calls out to you.
"Do me a favor and don't tell a soul. Treat it as if I never existed nor am I worth being in anyone's memory about my flee."
His face had a hint of sorrow engraved in but his hand at the side of your cheek was tender and lively. He caresses it in a way you'll have to remember it as your last contact with him—you placed your hand on top of his, softening your look. He smiles at this, pinching your cheek suddenly.
"Well, I dunno if we'll meet again in the near future…" He chuckled silently, pulling your cheek just about an inch. He seems to be enjoying his contact with your skin since he never thought about how delicate your skin really was other than him taking it in a feeble way.
"But if we did, make sure you kept your promise to me." He says before pulling you into a tight hug then burying his face into your hair, whiffing it as if he'll be keeping it as a mere collection of you. This made him feel nothing like any of the times he felt desperate for something, the body that he had always considered weak was stronger than his need at the moment as you pressed up against him. He couldn't let go just yet, not until he's ready to live a day without seeing you again. If running away with you was an option he'll gladly do so but that was just a mere idea to him.
He stayed nestled against you until one of your playmates came to your concern as it was getting late. Mumon pulls away with a smile, kissing your forehead before he quickly elopes, one last bye-bye and he disappears. You could almost see tears beading in his eyes but you don't blame him, you came to understand the hidden fact he actually had no one else he considers a true 'friend' other than you.
A decade has passed since your last encounter—you both were all grown up to the point of glowing up. Your entire presence had changed into a well nourished one under Katsumi's care and you were more than the lady he deemed 'defenseless' once. He's quite proud of himself to be at your service if it wasn't for his adoptive father giving you a chance to shoot your shot and he wasn't wrong about your burgeoning. You agree to that when you look at the mirror with glee next to a baby picture of you. Whenever you look at it, it makes your doubts about reality And judgment back then subside, you did look awfully weak. And this drifts your mind back to one person that spoke the truth; mumon.
You wondered how he was and where he is, what does he look like now, has he forgotten about you? These were the first questions that would always pop at your slightest bit of recollection about him and you would always end up shrugging it all off.
Mumon had considered himself dead to all the places he flew from since the past years. He didn't care what anyone thought about him anymore as long as you kept your promise to him. He never considered showing up to you again out of pure hesitation—from the looks of his situation you'll probably think he became a bad guy and he's aware of it.
That was until he heard a certain voice in the midst of a festive herd, distinctive yet unclear, but just about enough to piece out an original part from his childhood. And even the name it was calling out to was someone he definitely knew.
"Katsumi!! Katsumi!!"
The tone-the melody and the pitch, seemed all too familiar. He was certain—no, he was right. His eyes finally had the opportunity to envelope your form into his thinking as soon as the crowd gave some space and he couldn't help but let his incredulity get the best out of it.
"Improbable…." He mutters to himself. Hunching his back a little until he was at the level of your height from afar then narrowing his eyes at your form. He gives himself some time to register your figure in a theory he made a mental image of, but more clearly he was just being pessimistic of all things he could possibly make of you. He straightens up, his lips curving into a smile before walking towards the crowd.
"Katsumi..where are you…" your eyes frantically moved from one place to another, you could feel heaps of anxiety shiver down your spine when the crowd tightens with more people at your dismay. You tried walking to a nearby free space when a hand suddenly taps at your shoulder and immediately you turn around.
"You look quite troubled, dear lady" his tone was nothing threatening but gentle. His hat blocking half his face that made it seem impossible to recognize who he is. "May I help..?" He smiles, offering his hand before chuckling a little. You looked at his figure up and down before completely turning to him with a puzzled expression. It seems unknown to you why someone in a tight crowd would help especially with the kind of attire he had.
"No..i-i'm good..thank you.." You bow your head to him before turning your back at him, you could hear him chuckling to himself as you started to walk towards the only free space. He pulls his hat back, his hair dropping to his shoulder length as he smiles. "Y/n L/n." You immediately stopped. Turning back once again only to be met with the one who ushered you to make a promise in favor. Your eyes widened at this, you could tell just how much he's changed since the past decade but he still kept the natural feminine touch.
"Did you keep your promise?"
He closes the gap between the two of you as you remain stilt in front of him. He was tall, and you fail to reckon the last time he walked this close. His body was more slim than katsumi but you could almost see his muscles, enough to tell you what he's all capable of. He scans you up and down, his smile never left when he finds how amusing you looked at him. He laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"It's getting pretty tight here, let's talk somewhere else." The way he looked at you was like the first time he gave you the softest look he could never let you see back then, and you could tell he's still the same person he used to be despite how much he did to change himself. "Katsumi can wait later." He assures you before walking away outside the crowd as you follow right after. Silence prevailed until the sound of people subside in peace as he takes you to a place where cherry trees are present, along with the moon shining down at the nearby river.
He had gathered as many questions he can when he meets you but right now, only one thing concerns him. An idea he's been thinking of since you both were away from each other and what possibility it had on his long journey.
"So…" You turn your head to him. He looks ahead, quite nervous yet curious. "You two…together..?" He smiles to mask the sheer brittle of anxiousness he has while he waits for an answer. The only girl he was really planning to hit on was you, nobody else and if this turns out to be a yes he isn't sure what to make of it.
"Huh..?" He looks down at the ground, appearing nervous but he keeps a cool facade.
"You and katsumi..I mean." His hat hid his expression and you couldn't really make out what he meant and why he'd even ask a question like this that's far to be concerned about.
"No..w-why?" Your eyes would lay on his face as soon as he threw his head back to stare up at the night sky in relief, smiling as he looked down at you. "That's great, thought I wouldn't have a chance with you after all these years without me by your side." "Wha-" before you could say anything else he'd pin you under a cherry tree with a thud from his hand. All you could really do is stay stiff against him as he kissed you, both of your hands pinned against the rough branch while he eagerly bit at your soft lip. Your eyes would flutter close as the kiss would gradually turn into a slow one, just enough to match your pace.
He pulls away with a faint smirk as he pants. You could see how long he's been yearning for something like this, by the way he acted, you couldn't deny how much he missed you even if he flew as a 'friend' and nothing else more than that. Despite this taking a turn on your expectations, you were not complaining.
"Did I scare you there?" His smile widened as he kept his hands on both of your wrists. His voice was light and gentle, hearing it made you melt. When he leans into your neck, you slowly look up at the moon behind him while he whiffs out your scent—his knees weaken. He closes his eyes, taking one more whiff at your scent before placing his thumb on your chin with a satiated look.
"Mumon.." You huffed out with your cheeks beating red as you stared up at him. The moon behind him illuminating everything he had caused you to make this expression out of him—he smiles at this, leaning in for another kiss. The way you said his name didn't help with his urges. His tongue would skillfully roll above and under yours in your mouth while you gasp between kisses, and at your most effort you couldn't really meet with his tongue's pace. All of this was sending you into a pleasurable daze, something you wish two of you had done sooner if that was possible.
He pulls away with a heavy gaze, as if he's lost himself between your moist lips. He gives you a faint smile before laughing quietly. "You look adorable right now, I can't believe it…." His eyes traveled down at your chest—down to your hips, then back to your bashful face. He takes the view all in as he burns the image in his head.
"I should teach you how to kiss.." He chuckled before diving in for another make out. This time, more tongue. You'd moan at this, quivering from the bump of his knee between your legs as he started rubbing it sensually against you—he makes sure he's kneeing rightfully at your clothed weak spot as you moan into the kiss, making him lap and suck at your tongue with a determined face to pleasure you and make you haunt for more once he leaves again for maybe another year. Once he gets bored with the padding of his knee, he would slide a hand down to your thigh as he hoists the hem of your dress over your waist—squeezing the side of your thigh before dragging it upwards your clothed wet clit. He pulls away only an inch to your face, his forehead resting against yours as he smirks. You could feel his hot breath fanning at your delicate skin when he spoke in a low husked voice.
He'd cruelly fondle two fingers at your clothed wet slit, watching every bit of your reaction intently while he holds both of your hands just above your head—making you completely meek and vulnerable at his touch. You look away, biting your lip with your cheeks completely red and wet with sweat. Your thighs would squish themselves together against the hand that was pleasuring you and it made him smile with glee.
"So delicate- like a cute damn doll…" he pinches your clit—making you cry out as you threw your head back against the tree with a thud along with a loud stifled moan. He grins, he doesn't let any of your reaction slip away out of his sight now that you came. He has to eat up all of this, he needs it.
"You came already? That's cute." He chuckles as he watches you pant before him. His hand still working on you to get down your high and once you're finished, he'll slowly take it out and hold two fingers close to your lips. You were still in a daze but you could clearly see how wet you were at the evidence before you—you let out a small moan when he gently slides it down your mouth as you tasted yourself at his fingers, soon followed by him sucking at your tongue once again before he pulls away with a trail that consists of your juice and saliva.
"Good girl…" The sound of his voice was enough to get you weak at the front of your knees. You stare at him, almost as if you didn't want him to leave anymore. You purse your lips that were still glossing from the previous act and he watches intently. Before you could even say anything you could hear katsumi shouting your name from the distance, the tree mumon picked hid you both very well so you took your time to recover quickly before katsumi finds you.
"Aww I'm disappointed" he laughed as he freed your wrists with care. Smiling down at you, "let's meet each other again, not for another decade though.." Your eyes lit up from this as you watched him rub the back of his head.
"Now don't let them see you like this-" He fixes your dress, tidying you up which made you widen your eyes along with a flustered touch at your expression. You could see him blushing a bit when he sees the handprints he left behind your supple skin and the trail of hickeys at your neck, it made him feel content even if he didn't really get to do more—the experience was enough to cover his yearning. Your body still quivered lightly and he noticed this and a feeling of pure joy washed over him. Maybe it was a bit too much pleasure but he was glad to serve you that much, maybe enough to crave for more.
"Mumon..come back..safe?" Your tone of voice was quiet and your breath was still shaky but he nodded at your question nonetheless.
"Yeah, I'll do. Far as I know we're gonna do more than this when we meet again and I can't pass up that opportunity" he joked. His smile curving into a wide one as he places his hands on your shoulders. "I'm sorry I rushed it..I just had to.." A faint blush grew on his face out of shame. He could've really talked you out to get you in the mood but he chose to rush. He sighs When he hears another round of katsumi shouting your name like you're a missing child—he then kissed your forehead just like back then when he was about to flee.
"See ya 'round, babs"
#couldn't get enough#katsuragi mumon#katsuragi mumon x reader#baki#baki imagines#baki dou#baki the grappler x reader#baki smut#you asked for a drabble I delivered a fic#if that doesn't tell you anything about my obsession I'm safe#mumon katsuragi
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Envy is useless
Sumarry: Someone talks bad about you in they're presence.
Characters: Zhongli, Childe, Xiao.
Warnings: Just some bad words.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Masterlist
Zhongli
🍵He was sitting with you at a restaurant and drinking some tea while saying some stories from years ago.
🍵You were very interested in them but don't know when your attention drifted to a group of men who were talking a little bit too loud. And Zhongli observed and stoped to hear too when you froze a little bit.
🍵"Did you see the girl over there? Look how ugly she is! She can't even take care of her clothes?" "Exactly! Look at that shirt! It's so old fashioned! Did she took it from the thrash?" "I don't have another explanation so maybe yes. But don't get me started on her makeup! She doesn't even know how to put it right!"
🍵After that he looks at you and sees that some tears started to escape from your eyes to your shirt and he couldn't keep his composture any longer so he got up and went to them leaving you in disbelief.
🍵"Gentlemen do you think that is the right way to talk to a Lady as beautiful as her?" At that the men froze and looked at him. "Because I don't think so. The way you could say that so easily demonstrate that you are just some assholes who can't see a beautiful women!" The men flinched and without a single word they ran out of the restaurant.
🍵Whit that taken care of he gets back to he's seat with you and drinks his tea like nothing happened.
"Darling please do not believe what those people said. You are perfect and they are the one with the problem. They just weren't educated enough by they're parents. No one can say those things to someone. Especially to you."
Childe
🌊He was at the headquarters with you. He was taking care of some reports while you were just stayng on the couch while riding a book to not get bored and to keep him company.
🌊That put a smile on his face every time he looked at you because you were they're and keeping him company.
🌊But that smile didn't last for that long because outside of his office some soldiers talked a bit to loud for his liking.
🌊He was on his way to tell them to leave but stoped in his tracks when he heard the conversation was about you.
🌊"Did you hear that the Eleventh Harbridger has a girlfriend?" "Well of course. Everyone talks about it. But I don't know what is so interesting about her in the first place." "I know. She is just so plain and just distracts him. Did you hear that he abandoned a mission just to come back to that bitch because she fainted!" "For sure she just wanted him back and faked everything"
🌊At the last statement Childe couldn't stop himself from exiting his office and going straight at them. How can they talk so lightly about the fact that you were sick and fainted that he needed to stay with you 24/7 to be sure you don't get worse!
🌊"Soldiers! Ming telling me what were you talking about before I got here?" They got startled and started to shake with fear. "Sir we weren't talking about anything.... " "Sure. Sure.. So why did I hear that my girlfriend was mentioned?... " At that the two soldiers flinched and that was enough proof to Childe to know he was right. "I think the salary of the soldiers is to big and the training to light. I will need to make some changes to make sure that I won't hear things like this from now on. Now leave and train! I will personally test you later and if you aren't to my experience I will kill you!"
🌊With that he goes back to his office and hugged you.
"How can exist so many ignorant people in this world? You were so sick then and I was so scared... But don't believe a word they say about you and come to me immediately! I will protect you till the day I die!"
Xiao
🎋He was sitting on a rooftop and looked at you to protect you because he sensed something strange.
🎋And after some time he saw you getting drawn by someone in an alley. That shocked him and decided to go closer.
🎋Because of his decision he got to hear and see what happened more clearly.
🎋"What do you think of her? Do you think we can get some money for a thing like her?" At that Xiao flinched. How can they call you a thing? "I don't think so. Look at her little boobs. No one will give us money for her. " "Ugh.. And we already got her. Let's play a bit if we got her anyway."
🎋But at the moment the man tried to touch you he got thrown in a wall by Xiao.
🎋"How can you be so imbecile? Do you think touching the girlfriend of the Adepti will grant you anything except suffering? I won't tolerate these types of humans in this place unter my watch. Now leave before a kick you out myself! "
🎋After that the men ran off and Xiao took your hand to get you to the inn and bandaged a little bruise that you got from that man.
"Do not hesitate to call my name when you need help. If I wasn't there you could've gotten even more hurt. But don't worry I won't let anyone hurt you ever again my love."
#genshin impact#genshin men x reader#zhongli#zhongli x reader#zhongli x y/n#zhongli x you#childe#childe x reader#childe x y/n#childe x you#adeptus xiao#xiao x reader#xiao x you#xiao x y/n
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