a damn poet - Connor Bedard
requested; @chericherilvr 💓
summary; Connor Bedard x reader
Connor is so busy trying to have his best season that he forgets about things that really matter. He needs to learn how to be a poet to save your relationship.
warning(s); angst! fluff, argument, maybe grammar errors
author's note; it took me hours to finish this one. It was an honor for me to write this request. ♡
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Deep in your heart you know how Connor feels for you. He wouldn't invite you over another continent, joining his world championship, if he wouldn't love you. But something inside you breaks. Seeing all these hockey couples with cute pictures, sending their girlfriend flowers and the players screaming from the rooftop how much they love their girlfriends.
Connor is not like this. He loves you, he cooks your favorite food and watches all movies you want to watch. He's so focused to play the best rookie year he could do and lost the focus on his private life. He doesn't want to post your relationship official, because of his fan base.
You're self-evident for him.
"Hey love", you smile with big eyebags, touching his shoulder as he walks in the hotel room. It's your first time after three days having a real conversation with him.
"Hi", his mouth is straight, kissing your temple and waking in the bathroom. You're exhausted from love-bombing him. You're so tired of being so upset.
"How was your day?", you ask him, hearing the shower. "I can do better", his voice echos back. "You're already enough, my love", you shout back and throw your body into the bed. You spread your arms apart, your legs are on the ground.
Connor comes out after a few minutes ago in a towel, his hair is still wet and he's looking fine.
"What is that?", he grabs a paper from the desk.
"So I hold onto your shirt, as I stain it with blood
Will I finally find my own peace?
Clear my mind out of my thoughts, then state that I'm in love
Tempted with the idea of dying in these sheets"
"I'm writing songs ", your voice shakes. Connor never noticed this because he's always busy and you're asleep when he comes home. You're working full-time in a job you don't like and at night you're writing songs. Hopefully to live from that one day.
Connor looks up from these lines, "since when?", he breathes in. Hid eyes get red. Red like crying. "over a year", you sit up on the bed, your arms are supporting your back.
"Why didn't you tell me, babe?", he sniffles.
Babe. How long didn't you hear this nickname?
"You were busy", you tell him the truth. Maybe he'll break up with you. Connor sobbs, "are you really feeling this way? Finally finding your own peace?", his blue eyes searching yours, you can see how much it burdens him.
"your lyrics are professional, they're so good", he cries and tries to hide it. Whipping his tears with his wrist, face to his bag with all clothes.
He's putting a shirt on, turning around. "I just need time to realize this, babe", he kisses your lips, you taste the salt from his tears.
"You have an important game tomorrow, I'm ok with that ", you response. He nods and lays down. Without a kiss, hug or this comfortable feeling.
He lays down and let you alone with all these thoughts in your head. He doesn't seem to care much about you. Maybe it's time to leave.
Next day Connor feels like shit, even in his hockey clothes, nice fans around his team. He slept surprisingly well, but feels like the night after silvester.
It burns in his chest, you don't feel happy. But why? Since when you're writing songs? as a good boyfriend he should know. What is he missing in this relationship.
He's not shitty boyfriend, he didn't know it's hurting you. He thought its okay that he's having a strict time schedule.
"Concentration, Bedsy!", his teammate hits his shoulder to wake him up from daydreaming. Like a robot Connor played his best game but the celebration feels like a crime.
"Yo Connor are you going out with us?", some boys asking him in the cabin to celebrate their win. "No", he wants to see you. He forgot how stunning you are. How hard working you are. You're a poet and he had no clue!
He walks in your hotel room, lights are out. Just some papers all over the bed. He grabs one paper, reading the lines.
'He grabs me by my neck
Puts a dagger to my heart
Tells me I'm a mess
That I'll never be enough'
Gosh, it hits him. You are more than enough. You're his safe place. He reads every paper, focused about what you feel. It's time to hear out what you need.
He grabs his phone, calling you.
"Hello?", your voice sounds happy. "Where are you, babe?", he asks interested. "I'm at the whirlpool inside the hotel, I'll come over in 5 minutes, okay?", you're scared he's mad when you're late. You thought he's celebrating with his team and won't come to bed until midnight.
You pack the stuff and walk back to your shared room.
The opened door shows you the sort out papers with your lyrics on your bed shelf.
Connor lays in bed, smiling softly. It's typical Connor, he's a clean guy.
He smiles. He smiles at you without talking about hockey. "Congratulations for winning, I'm proud of you", you stutter.
This view feels so surreal, having a relationship after months. Having a boyfriend waiting for you.
"You look beautiful", he grins angelic.
You stopped the last step, "what did you say?". Maybe you have issues with your ears.
"You look beautiful and I love you", he talks loud.
"Love you too?", your honest reaction. The last time he said it, he broke is jaw and was out of his mind because painkillers. Months ago.
"Uhm can we talk, please?", he pets your hand, when you lay down with him. It feels like home. Smelling his perfume, hearing his breath and touching you.
"Sure", you get insecure what's coming next.
"Ok it's not easy for me", one tear runs down his cheek. You're frightened, just able to nod.
"Why do you write songs with me as enemy?", his voice is distanced and cold.
"Oh I'm sorry I don't write lies!", you defense yourself.
"I'm a good boyfriend!", he argues, "you treat me like I'm self-evident!", you yell your frustration out of your lungs. So much pain inside your chest wants to come out of your mouth. So much unsayed words.
"No-", he argues back, more tears are coming out his blue eyes.
"Yes Connor! Yes, it's true! I love writing songs and I hate my job so much! I am crying every night because my boyfriend doesn't care about me and I'm all alone and you're hiding me from fans because you could have a ruined career, I get it!", you sob under choking your salty tears. You're outraged.
You take your pillow and lay down on the floor, Connor looks down, "come over".
"No", "god damn come over!", he huffs.
"You have practice tomorrow, good night!".
That's the last time you saw him for the next two days. He's busy. Semifinals are tonight and Connor posted something on Instagram, you're too upset to check.
One WAG comes to you at the game, giggles and tells you, "never thought Bedsy is a poet!". The game is already on fire but your fingers are like a magnet, they want to switch what he posted - even if he's an idiot.
He posted a picture of you reading a book in the garden, laughing at you without pressure, without hockey and in his caption;
"You can feel, when someone traces your skin
You can kneel, run, jump and also can spin
And when I close my eyes I wish I was just like you"
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JJK CHAPTER 261 AND MY THOUGHTS:
Soooooo this chapter was not for everyone lmao but if you ask me personally I am enjoying the direction in which the story is finally moving..261 has so many themes that just hit so hard bro, but I would be breaking them down into just 3 parts (because I would yap for another 3k words otherwise):
1. Breaking the cycle (remains unbroken):
Let’s start with the first person who tried to break the cycle: Toji. Toji, a man blessed with no cursed energy, born in a clan that probably abused him for that fact, tried to break the cycle of curse energy = strength mentality by killing Gojo even when he didn’t have to, he did not have to kill Gojo at all his mission was over, money was paid, he could have left he could have run but no he fights because he wants to prove to the world, to himself, and to the zenin clan that hated his very existence that “look a monkey like me with no cursed energy can take down the pinnacle of jujutsu look”…and we all know how it ends and the cycle continues with the zenin clan still being obsessed with the 10 shadows and Maki (and Mai) being treated like shit.
The second person who tried to break the cycle was: Geto. Geto realized after a failed mission, how little value a sorcerer’s life has in the eyes of a non-sorcerer even when those sorcerers dedicate their entire lives to saving them. He envisioned a world without curses where his fellow companions wouldn’t have to sacrifice their lives to save lives of people that don’t give two fucks about them. He realised how fucked up the jujutsu society really is, how fucked up the higher ups are and how they have no qualms about sending young sorcerers to their deaths. He also starts struggling with the ugliness of humanity and non-sorcerers and their ignorance. And so he tried to change that, he tried to make the world a better place for his friends and fellow sorcerers but he lost his ideals, his mortality and his humanity following the path he chose and in the end lost to a person who was soooo similar to him, who just wanted to save his friends too and prove to himself he deserved to live. And so the cycle continues with the higher ups using and abusing the young sorcerers, and the ones in power not giving a shit about what happens as long as they are comfortable (putting a kill order on Yuuji, making binding vow with Yuuta to kill Yuuji, suspending Hakari and Kirara, killing Yaga, etc).
The third person who tries to break the cycle is: Gojo. Gojo who saw his best friend leave him behind, not just physically but in terms of ideology, who saw his best friend become a monster in order to create a world where his friends and companions can live to their fullest and laugh from the bottom of their hearts, follow an idea so insane that even he couldn’t make sense of, he couldn’t catch up to him, couldn’t catch up to his ideas…so what does he do, he becomes a teacher. He guides young minds and fosters strong people that can overturn the way jjk society works and creates a group of people so strong that they can never be left behind, that will never feel what he felt. But all this crumbs when he comes back after his sealing, Gojo knows he still doesn’t possess the power to change the society the way he wants and if he is gone there is a vacuum in the jjk society that the higher ups can easily use to exploit…and so he kills them, kills them so that the Shibuya incident aftermath (read: Yuuji almost dying, Yaga being dead, Gojo getting framed as a traitor) can not be created again looping back to Geto’s departure and the way he killed an entire village (and for me personally it even loops back to when Gojo expressed his desire to kill the cult members clapping for Riko’s death).
2. Exploitation of the strongest:
Nanami, Higuruma, Junpei all of them are few examples that show themes of exploitation in jjk but there is this cycle of exploitation of the strongest that literally just…it’s too delicious okay:
Geto and Kenjaku - Every single Kenjaku victim deserves their own exploitation post but Geto was probably one of his best hosts since firstly, Geto was a special grade sorcerer and in Kenjaku’s own words “Special Grade rank signifies the ability to single-handedly overthrow nations, that obviously true for Gojo Satoru but Suguru Geto can also wield a Grotesque army through his cursed manipulation (ch. 203)”, and secondly his curse technique can literally allow him to claim any unclaimed curse which is just bonkers. But not only that, oh no no no the ultimate trump card that Kenjaku uses Geto for was to exploit Gojo emotionally. He made a six eyes user doubt his own technique and the funny part is: he was right. Gojo’s six eyes told him that it was Geto Suguru but his soul, HIS SOUL knew otherwise. And that emotional trump card was bigger than what any other host could provide.
Megumi and Sukuna- From the very start of his show, we have seen Sukuna obsess about Megumi and his curse technique. He has even admitted that Megumi, as he grows stronger, can literally defeat him and kill him. For more than 200 chapters we have seen Sukuna devise a plan to make Megumi as his vessel, so that he can get the 10 shadows/Mahoraga. He even exploits Megumi’s curse technique after the body possession to kill off Megumi’s sister and totally submerge his soul into the abyss.
Gojo and Yuuta- The chapter was so good that we looped back to the themes of exploiting the strongest but only this time not one, BUT TWO STRONGEST SORCERERS getting exploited at the same time. On one hand we have Gojo Satoru, who has always been seen as a weapon since the day he was born, been used as a tool by the higher ups, been used and seen as nothing but strength incarnate till the day he took his last breath and getting his body used as a tool again even after his death. He even got emotionally exploited by Kenjaku and his mind games during Shibuya. On the other hand we have Okkotsu Yuta, a kid who didn’t even know he comes from a great dynasty of Jujutsu sorcerers until he accidentally cursed his friend, who meets a guy that saved his life and helped him get back onto his feet almost a year ago…sees the loneliness and isolation that man subjects himself to and wants to help him in return too, he wants him to share the burden and not suffer alone but the man is dead now and there is no one to fill the space he left, no one that can be used as a weapon anymore, no one that can be the monster the sorcerers need to win this fight, so he steps up, he becomes the monster for the story, because he can not let it all go to waste now. Ah the tragedy of not seeing yourself as a human but just a means.
3. Love is the greatest curse of them all:
Yuuta’s story started with him cursing his friend, Rika, because he could not accept her death. He loved Rika, he could not let her go because he loved. He fought Geto Suguru, even tried to sacrifice himself in the end so that his friends could live because he loved and cherished his friends. Love, love, love…In this chapter we see him worry about Gojo because isn’t Gojo doing everything all by his own, even going as far as to stain his hands in blood so that when he is not needed (dead) the rest of the cast does not have to suffer, and so he fills in the shoes of his sensei, a man he respected and loved a lot, he sacrifices himself, his humanity and becomes almost a curse for his sensei because in the end, love is the greatest curse of them all.
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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 4)
Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader
Word Count: 3900+
A/N Note: Only a few more chapters to go (I think, but we're both lost on how long this series will be.) Thank you guys for reading and as always, thank you for the love and support!
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Chapter 4:
Y/N's POV
It wasn’t him. It was 100% me. I did this to myself. I built a wall so quickly around him because I didn’t want to like the man behind my misery.
My teammates knew enough about my backstory to think they had an idea of my reason for joining SHIELD: helping the little guy because, at one point, you were the little guy—the manipulated guy—the one who no one saved, so you had to save yourself—and now anyone else who can’t do it for themselves.
Yet, there were so many other things I kept for myself, and things files couldn’t tell you. No files existed of them, and I’m glad because I didn’t want the pity.
James Buchanan Barnes was the reason behind my abuse. Not personally, but my abuser was obsessed with his accomplishments under the German and Russian terrorist organizations and wanted to make a female, more skilled, discrete, and sleeker version of the Winter Soldier.
Who fucking didn’t, right? God, every goddamn evil bastard on this godforsaken shit show of a planet wants to remake something that was a once in a lifetime kind of thing and crack more than a few eggs to get to that point. Selfish asshole…
Being constantly compared to him and then beaten for not hitting the unreachable mark of the man I was ‘of no comparison to’ after years of trying to hit that standard, and then being asked to be on a team with him? A lot of emotions hit me like a train when I got that news.
Will I amount to being the trained spy and agent I am for Shield with him by my side? Will he make me look like a completely pointless addition to the team? After five years of already working with the Avengers and then learning who the Winter Solider was? Steve’s best friend and probably the only person he could relate to in their journey? All the way to having to work with him… The change-up was instantaneous, where I would have begged for baby steps.
Then again, when has the world made it easy for me?
So yes. I was an ass and kept him further than arm's length away to stay safe from learning that he was a good guy when I wasn’t ready to like him yet. I had a lot of trauma I never thought I’d have to work through with the infamous man himself, and that irritation and annoyance just continued when he finally matched my energy, and we never strayed from that relationship until… now.
And here he was, genuinely asking what HE did wrong when I was the reason for our enemies’ plot line.
“Bucky, I don’t think I can talk about this right now,” I breathed out slowly, feeling the tears prick in my eyes.
It had been a minute since I cried and felt this vulnerable, and I couldn’t seem to stop it. I think subconsciously, I didn’t want to stop it, but my mind was begging my body to hold out until he was out of the room.
“Y/N, if I did something to you, I didn’t realize-”
“You wouldn’t have known,” I whisper, not trusting my voice to stay steady, but also not wanting to put anymore of the blame on him from here on out.
He wasn’t a bad guy.
He had proved himself time and time again to be a really good guy. Even when he broke and decided he hated me back, he still had his moments when he put it aside and showed chivalry. I admired him for it even when I ignored the admiration.
Makes it hard to fully hate a guy who made sure ladies weren’t opening any doors for themselves. Or a man who remembered Morgan’s birthday and bought her an ice cream cake before stealing Steve’s shield to sled down a hill her dad told her not to. Or a man you treat like absolute shit 99% of the time, and he still checks on you when you have nightmares, and he grabs water and an ice pack and helps you even out your breathing before waiting for you to go back to sleep.
I didn’t ask him for the help, and he never mentioned the handful of times he fell into the routine of soothing me back to sleep. Never brought it up, never made me feel like I owed him, and never hinted at remembering such kindness.
But now?
“You wouldn’t have known why it started this way to begin with. And you likely won’t,” I sigh, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth before turning around; a lot more put together, even if it was just a mask I had learned to put on most of my life.
“I don’t understand,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at my disposition.
“I don’t expect you to, but maybe we should go to sleep and talk about it later. It’s getting late, and you have to go to your ‘job’ tomorrow,” I say with hand quotes. “We have to keep the ruse going.”
“A few hours of sleep doesn’t affect me,” Bucky shook his head, and I could see him itching to put his hands back on me, but he held back. “Please. I need to know what the hell I did.”
“Again, Bucky,” I say sternly this time, all emotion I’m struggling to keep at bay shoved down. “You are not at fault, and tomorrow I’ll talk to you, but for now, I need to sleep on it.”
He read my face for lies, and I kept it neutral. I wasn’t going to break here. Now was not the time. I needed space to think about how I was going to approach this after so long of avoiding it and being put on the spot wasn’t going to work for me.
“Ok,” he said, softer than I think I ever heard him talk. His eyes were soft and sensitive, and I didn’t know how I felt about it…
He turned and walked out of my room, gently shutting the door behind him and turning off the overhead light he had originally flashed on.
I didn’t instantly head straight to bed. I stared at the doorway in the dark, seeing the faint silhouette of the barrier between us. He was still on the other side, and I could hear his heart rate higher than normal.
This was affecting him more than I thought it would. Why was he so worried about what I thought of him? He didn’t seem bothered by my disinterest in the past. Or at least I didn’t figure he did.
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When I woke up, Bucky was already gone. His truck, normally in the driveway, was missing, and I knew he had taken off for our mission report.
Thankful, I took the time to make my coffee, sit on the front porch, and watch the neighborhood take on its morning routine.
People were on runs with their family dogs, moms were doing their morning walks with strollers, some neighbors were out already tending to their gardens, and everything suburban seemed to be on track.
Towards the end of my cup, I notice Ms. Bauer coming back from her jog she must have taken earlier than the others.
“Oh, hello, neighbor!” she shouted when she spotted me, uniformly checking our house like her head was on a swivel if she heard a pen drop in it.
Still in her jog, she sashayed over to my lawn, and I mumbled, “Here we go,” smiling at her as she followed the sidewalk to our steps.
“How are you doing today, Bethanne?” I grin standing from my patio chair and going down the steps to meet her at the bottom of the flight. “Is there a run club I didn’t know about? You’re the 10th person I’ve seen getting a head start on their steps for the day.”
She laughed and waved a hand at me before taking an earbud out, pausing her music on her watch, and placing her hands on her hips as she looked up at me.
“There is actually a mommy and me walking club on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Depending on the weather, of course, but who knows,” she grinned up at me. “Maybe you can be joining it sooner than you thought.”
“Maybe not as soon as you think,” I laughed, holding my mug tighter with both hands so I wouldn’t strangle her instead and leaning on the banister. “We wanted at least a year in the house by ourselves before we add another set of feet to the chaos,” I scrunch my nose and add, “but I’m excited for the day Beau and I have a mini-version of us running around here.”
“Speaking of Beau,” she grins, looking to the driveway. “Where is he today? He’s usually home with you most of the time, right?”
“Oh, it was time for him to get back to work. He took off for a few weeks to get moved in and spend time with me before we had to get back to the real world,” I answer as planned.
“That’s right. I think I remember you guys talking about that at the first block party,” she nodded, watching me carefully for slip-ups. “Can you believe it’s only been two weeks of you guys here? I feel like you two have been a part of the community for at least a year.”
“You’re sweet,” I gush convincingly and look out to the neighborhood for effect. “You guys have really taken us in as your family, and you don’t know how much I appreciate it. We appreciate it,” I correct and look off in the distance like I’m thinking of my sweet, doting husband when, in reality, I was thinking of the day this mission was over and I could carry on with my normal life. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned this. Beau isn’t one to really talk about it, but his family life wasn’t the best. They’ve practically been strangers since he turned 18.”
“Oh, is that so?” she inched up, feeding on the new (fake) information.
I nod. “When we started dating, my family took him in as his own- well, I only had my dad around for most of my life, but they got along really well. He passed three years ago,” I give a tight-lipped look as I look down at my feet in sadness. “They developed a bond, which wasn’t hard considering who my dad was. He was the best, though we might be biased in thinking that. Taught Beau how to do a lot of things dads are supposed to teach their sons. Well,” I sniffle for added effect. “Anyway, we’re kinda on our own now. No extended family we’re close with, and with my dad’s passing, it’s really just us. So when I say we’re grateful for y’all’s hospitality, I mean it.”
She seemed to buy it, as much as an undercover convict could, and smiled kindly up at me before placing a hand on my arm.
“Of course, sweetheart. We’re just lucky you two are some of the good ones. You’d be surprised who’s come in and hasn’t made the cut. Lawns in disarray, unfriendly attitudes, and you know the list,” she winks and rolls her shoulders back before stretching in her spot. “Speaking of being lovely neighbors, how would you and Beau feel about a dinner at our house? Reggie and I have been talking about having you over for quite some time now, and I think we can finally host.” Before I could ask, she stopped me and explained. “Kitchen renovation. It was and still is a pain in my ass, but it should be doable for a small dinner.”
“That sounds lovely,” I beam as much as I could act. It was the perfect next step, and the bait had been taken, but a part of me wanted to settle things with Bucky in our personal dispute before we put on our masks for the two main perpetrators. “Let me check with him and see what his schedule will look like now. He’s getting some new orders today, and some things are changing in the company. We’ll know more tonight. But we will for sure make it work.”
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After Bethanne told me some useless neighborhood gossip, she excused herself, and I went back inside to get ready for the day and consider how I would approach Bucky on our issue.
I knew it was time to be truthful, even if I dreaded it. Bucky had proven time and time again that he wasn’t the enemy, and I needed to deal with my issues. I was tired of wasting energy on hatred and anger, and these last two weeks proved that Bucky wasn’t the one who should have been receiving the blunt force end of my trauma.
I had until four in the evening to come up with an idea of how I wanted to go about it, but I had stress cleaned instead and couldn’t come up with a non-terrifying way to approach this life-changing conversation.
Finally, I found it best we get dinner in the town over (as not to have any peaking eyes or eavesdropping ears as we dive into my life story I hadn’t indulged to near anyone before), and I would talk to Bucky there. However, plans changed when Bucky came home.
From my spot in the kitchen, I heard him shout in his domesticated voice across the street, “No, that sounds perfect! We’d love to!” The door opened just as he finished his sentence, and his voice became clearer.
I moved around the island and slowly walked toward the door to get a view of who he was talking to, and I noticed Bethanne at her mailbox waving to Bucky.
I furrowed my eyebrows at the obvious commitment he put us in, and after he waved back, he shut the door behind him, looking at me, and dropped the act quickly.
“What did you just agree to?” I asked, nodding my head behind him.
He looked me up and down, and I almost forgot I had picked a new, semi-fancier sundress for our “surprise anniversary dinner” (at least the front I was trying to put on for getting out of town without too much suspicion).
(Make whatever color you please or change it in your mind if you want! I'm choosing to pick it as a darker red.)
“You look nice,” he says as his eyes trail back up to my own, and I swear I see him take a gulp.
“What did you agree to?” I asked again, focused more on what he had decided for us regarding Bethanne.
His previous shocked face faded away, and he rolled his eyes slightly before throwing his work bag to the side.
“Bethanne invited us to dinner. I said yes because we need to build a relationship with them,” he replied stoically, as if my question was dumb and pointless.
I just stared at him and let my “personal vendetta” look rest on my face. He studied me and had the decency to shrink ever so slightly.
“What?”
“What happened to discussing things first?” I said in an eerily calm voice.
“I didn’t think accepting dinner at a home we’ve been trying to get inside of for the last two weeks is something we’d have to discuss.” And now he straightens up, throwing his empty arms to the side.
A few seconds later, I yelled, “You dipshit!” in a muffled grunt, keeping my voice down as much as I could handle and balling my fists in anger.
His eyebrows shoot up and he huffs with his chest puffed out as he marches to me. I see the intent in his eyes, and I start walking away towards the opposite room closest, needing a minute not to lose my shit, and if I have to look into his stupid azure eyes like he wants to read everything passing through my mind, I’ll break.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he growls, and I shoot him a look over my shoulder as I shift my pace and head down the hallway to the bedrooms. “Y/N, stop being a stubborn ass and-”
“Unless you want a heel thrown at your head, and you’re welcome for being civil about this, I suggest you leave me alone,” I shout behind me, turn sharply to the left, and go to my room.
“I don’t even know what THIS is! You looked at me like you wanted to kill me when I walked in, and I haven’t even talked to you today besides updates about work,” he said just as I slammed the door in his face. “Oh, real mature. Shut the door like an adolescent. Wait, I forgot. You are one…” He mumbles the last part and I hear him lean on the door.
Instantly, I whip the door open, and he doesn’t have time to predict his next move. He falls flat on his back on the wood floors of my room, only padded by a thin oriental rug I made Tony buy me.
He’s winded from the fall and clutches his chest as I bend down next to him and say, “I said. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.” I stare at him for a second, solidifying my threat. I stand to walk out and only give him a glance as I pass the doorway.
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Bucky’s POV:
I left her the fuck alone.
I may have been royally pissed (that is a blatant ass understatement), but something about the look in Y/N’s eyes told me not to push unless I wanted to wake up with my head no longer attached to my body.
I was too scared to leave her room in fear I’d run into her when she wasn’t ready and risk taking the chances of the guillotine earlier, so I sat on her bed and tried to rack my brain to where I slipped up to cause whatever the hell I walked in to…
I knew almost instantly and realized what a stupid, simple mistake it was. Bethanne asking me to dinner set her off, I knew. But her comment about talking with each other before making decisions told me my mistake.
Something happened I didn’t know of, and I may have just fucked whatever it was up. As for what it is? No goddamn clue. But using context clues and just basic reading of the body language, Y/N had already made a plan, and I threw it out the window, likely.
I heard footsteps before I could think further, and Y/N appeared in the doorway, taking a deep breath. She would have convinced me she was going to be civil if it wasn’t for her history, but I was excited to see which lane she chose.
“One thing before I bite my tongue,” she says in almost a whisper, like she’s trying to keep her frustrations at bay. “You make me want to shave my head like Britney Spears in 2007 75% of the time. This moment was almost a tipping point for that kind of outcome..” She lets out a long breath like she passed the test of keeping it together.
Surprisingly a lot more tame than I was expecting.
“Glad you got that out of your system. Now, please tell me what the hell happened?” I asked, keeping my guard up in case she resorted to her typical insults and fury.
“Oh, now you want to communicate,” she mocks and walks to the bed, harshly sitting next to me but leaving a copious amount of space between us.
I let it slide because I know she’s fighting bigger demons, like the urge to insult me, until I personally dig my own grave and say goodbye to my cruel reality.
“Bethanne was goading us,” she answers, thankfully getting right to the point. “Something about her proposition seemed off, and I wanted to clear some things up with you before we jumped on the offer.”
I nodded my head, seeing that my instantaneous reply wasn’t thought out. That was on me, yes, but she also reacted extremely dramatically, expressing an odd feeling about the interaction instead of hard proof.
“What did she ask, and what was off about it?” I question, trying to stay mission based because something seemed off still.
“It wasn’t what it was but how she was asking. Something in her tone and the way she was looking at our house and me. Like she was trying to take in detail after detail up close. Checking for cracks in the foundation,” she answers and turns to me just slightly. “She also said her kitchen was under renovation, and something felt off about it.”
“The vibes about our neighbor getting a kitchen renovation made you knock the wind out of me when you opened your door?” I said before I could think, but I didn’t budge, my furrowed eyebrows aimed at her.
She matches my glare and turns her body fully to me.
“It seemed like an excuse,” she answers slowly.
“To what? Host a dinner? That’s kind of the opposite effect. Who would want to host a dinner when you have kitchen renovations? It means they trust us if they’re willing to let us see a house that’s not perfect like the front they put on.”
‘That’s what you get from it, but I think they just planted a little seed of their own.”
“What do you even mean?”
“Kitchen Reno? That’s an excuse to say, ‘Oh, Charlotte, I can’t cook the chicken pot pie I was going to make for you two because our new oven hasn’t been delivered and installed yet. You know? Because we have the kitchen under renovation? I completely forgot,’” She acted in a convincing Bethanne impersonation and then quickly turned back to serious.
“You got that from a kitchen reno comment?” I deadpanned after a minute.
“I got that from understanding women masterminds who know how to manipulate a situation. I am that woman, so I think I can read them pretty well,” she says confidently back.
Touché.
“And what if you’re wrong?” Her bitchface grew at my question.
“First off, I’m not. Second off, even if I was wrong, we are supposed to consult each other about accepting invitations into the house of our suspect enemies,” she ran a hand through her hair, which I notice now looks styled differently. Did she curl it or have it blown out? And yes, I know what a blowout is. I have women friends and coworkers.
Yeah… I was in the wrong here, and that’s on me. I wasn’t thinking. I also had a long day snooping around for more information about this whole operation, but it isn’t necessarily an excuse… It’s not like I haven’t worked on a case like this in the past. I mean, minus being fictitiously married to a coworker.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and she gives me a weird look. “What?”
“I wasn’t expecting an apology,” she says, standing slowly and straightening her dress.
“I know when to accept I made a mistake,” I shrug and stand as well.
She studies my face like there's a retort that’s going to follow, but I just stare at her silently, communicating that I’m set on my apology.
“Ok…” she drags out, watching me as she steps toward the door. “Well, I guess we need to get ready for tonight. Considering we have dinner. With our neighbors. And we need to set up bugs if possible.”
“Guess so,” I nod, crossing my arms.
She stops suddenly and looks at me with a look of realization. “You’re in my room.” She steps to the side, leaving room for me to leave, and avoids eye contact.
She’s still acting weird, but I need to change and get my head in the game for tonight, so I walk out with a subtle head nod as I leave.
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