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iwriteallkindsofstuff · 2 years

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The Scribe

Was very mich inspired by Violet Evergarden… If you haben seen it, I highly recommend it, it’s a short, beautiful watch on Netflix✨

Aot x reader (not quite sure where exactly I’m going, lol)

Summary:

You are a scribe, writing letters for your clients. As the Wall falls to the titans and more and more people are becoming soldiers, you have been hired to work for the Scouts-segment for an unlimited amount of time.

I had fun with this one - and I hope you will too. Enjoy and have a good one :3

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The soldier who is lying on the floor is a young man with short, ashen hair. He looks no older than eighteen. I can feel the first clenching in my chest. I will have to try and keep my emotions in, I think as I set myself beside him and take out my notebook and pen. I have to catch every word. Like trying to catch raindrops.

„Hello Sir, I start, I’m (Y/n). I’m here to write your letters for you.“ The boy moves his head towards my voice, his eyes halfway shut and glazed over. „…right. I’m David…thanks for…helping me…“ His soft voice is tired and low, nothing but a hoarse mumbling. I see the bandages around his torso and wonder if his lungs have been damaged.

I take a breath - not now, (Y/n). Help him. There are others around, sitting a few feet away on benches or leaning against the walls. They all look awful. Sons and Daughters, old and young, wondering what they are doing fighting in this war. Perhaps they have someone to get back home to…? I try my best to ignore them all and focus on David.

„Please, don’t mention it. I’ll get started right away.“ I open a fresh page, readying myself. Name, relationship, intention… „Who do you want this letter to go to?“ I ignor how my hand is gripping a little too harshly. My body can sense that death is approaching, even if I try to deny it.

I am unable to get used to such young clients. I am not used to seeing people reaking of war and death, waiting for it to come for them next. Not when they are barely children. This is not right.

„To my girlfriend…Sam…“ he says, his eyes focusing on something far, far away. „Alright then. What would you like to tell Sam?“ Sam. What a beautiful name. David goes quiet for a while.

Just as I begin to fear that he might’ve gone, he speaks up. I can sense the soldiers around us listening, watching what is happening. Contemplating perhaps, if they too would need to send a letter themselves, or maybe if they would soon lie on the floor like David was right now.

„Sam…how are you?…I hope…you are well and still…trying your best to be brave…“ I write along. „Sam, I am so, so sorry…“ he whispers this part, I barely understand him, „I know I promised to come back…“ David begins to cry, weakly and afraid. The clenching in my chest and lungs grows more violent and I can feel the sobs climbing up to my throat. He is so scared.

My vision shimmers in the warm light of the lamps overhead. „You are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met Sam…“ his voice is laced with the fear of death, but I also hear the love and admiration in it, soft and promising. „I never loved someone as much as you…“ Another pause.

I think I can hear the people around us breathing. „I don’t want to die yet… I want to go home and marry you…I want to be with you Sam…“ Breathe, (Y/n). „Please live long and happily…Sam…“ He is remembering, I can see it.

Breathe, (Y/n). My vision is still shimmering around the lights. „…have you got all that?“

Steady breaths, (Y/n), help him. I nod, more to myself than David. „Yes. I got everything. Is there another person you want to write to?“

„No…just Sam…“ David looks up at the ceiling of the room. I notice Eren, Mikasa and Armin in a corner, but I pay even them no mind. David needs my service. „Mama and Papa are dead…“

The words quiver, as if they aren’t strong enough to carry his feelings, like they need something much bigger, louder and stronger to express what is happening. Tiny rivers streak the boys soft face. Soft, yes, that is what he is. It is easy to spot the innocent and gentle ones. „(Y/n)…re you…there…?“ If it weren’t for the fact that I am watching him, I would not have heard his question.

As hard as I am trying, I can’t hide the sadness in my voice. I just pray that it sounds strong enough. „Yes, I’m here David, I’m right next to you…“ I scoot a little closer to him to make sure he can feel my presence. I think he can’t see me anymore. Then I notice it, his hand moving by his side. His bloody fingertips contract ever so slightly.

‚Where are you?‘, they seem to ask, ‚Where did you go?‘ I grab it with both of my own hands, caressing the back of his hand. Piano-hands.

I wonder what he does for fun. I am no lover, nor a mother or sister, or even a friend to this boy, but now I willfully fill whichever one of those roles he longs for.

„Sam will get your letter“, I press the words out, straining to keep my voice steady, „I‘ll make sure of it…“ Pressure, small like a child’s hold on my fingers. „Thanks…“ David mouthes the word.

And just like that, he is dead. From an instant to another, yet another life has gone. I grip his now limp hand hard in mine and press my eyes shut. So tightly as if they could stick together forever. Why? Why all of this death, destruction and cruelty? Why all this Misery? ‚I hate you’, I say to the world and every living being in it, ‚I hate you for doing this. For hurting Sam and killing David, this good, gentle boy. For breaking all the innocent, good things. I hate you. I hate you.‘

I put David’s hand down. I can’t move. A tree - I think of trees. Roots anchoring them deeply to the earth while they look and reach towards the sky. I rip the roots out of the ground with a soft cracking sound resonating in my head.

***

It was like I had left my body for the remainder of the day. I couldn’t think anymore. I functioned because I gave myself small tasks to do. ‚Write.‘‚Pack your stuff.‘ ‚Go to your room.‘ ‚Get a change of clothes.‘ As I am about to wash up and go to sleep, there is a knock on my door. Huh. When I go to see who it is, I am mildly surprised to see Eren in my door, looking worried. „Hey.“ he says, seemingly a bit uncertain of what exactly he even wants here. „Hey.“

It was the first time I’ve spoken in quite a few hours. David hasn’t left my mind, nor his words to his Sam. Nor the hatred that filled my mind, my being. I am so…helpless and miserable. It feels as though I am drowning in a well; no way out, no matter where one might look, only a small, claustrophobic space keeping you in place. „A-are you doing okay…? I was just going back, he points absentmindedly towards where the other dorms lay, and I wanted to see how you’re doing…“

He looks a little bashful aswell. Eren is sweet - he has a good, fierce heart and an indescribable love for freedom. He pursues it more than anything else in the world. I admire him for that.

Just as I open my mouth to answer him, I see David lying next to me, the feeling of his bloody hand still on mine and I am suddenly violently confronted with the fact that I am devastated.

Not just devastated- heartbroken. Because of David, but also because of the world that we live in. That good people like David and Eren die every single day in the most gruesome, horrible way possible and that there is so little, if anything at all, that we can do about it. That I can do about it.

„…I’m miserable.“ Those two words cost me more strength than I would’ve thought. I look away. It is so difficult to be honest with others, but so much more with ourselves.

For a few moments, neither of us say anything. Without thinking, I motion for Eren to come in.

I need to sit down. The weight of it all seems to break the strength of my body.

„You were…so brave, compassionate. I…I‘ve never seen something like that before…“ Eren says once he‘s seated at my desk. I don’t know why that seems so profound to him. I sit on the edge of my bed, fingers running over the blanket, remembering the warmth of the hand they held earlier, the feeling of my pencil between my fingers, the papers…

„I wasn’t.“ I listen to my voice as though I was a third person, watching us from behind my back. Where did I go? „I was so…so angry. And…hopeless…“ The tears come back, but I know that I don’t have to hold them in for David anymore. For any of them. They don’t need me to stay strong now.

‚He’s gone. He doesn’t need anything anymore.‘ It’s a very simple realization, but it feels as though someone drove a hammer down into my gut, angrily, over and over again.

„Why…, my hands bunch up the blanket too harshly, why is this hell upon us?! I hate this, all of this, this entire world, it’s evil and rotten!“ I spit the words out like venom, feeling nauseous.

„You are right to chase and defend your freedom so fiercely, Eren. I wish I could do that…“

My tears have turned my words into sobs, like I am trying to wash all of this sadness out of me through them. „I wish I could…“ I don’t know what I even want anymore. Too tired to carry on, I slump forward, crying properly for David, for the ones that I‘ve lost and for myself.

Then, all of a sudden, Eren is looking me right in the eyes, a hand on my shoulder. My hair frames his face, making me think of the willow that stands at the pond by the main road - the one that leads through the fields towards Wall Rose. I used to pass it quite frequently. His green eyes remind me of the ponds emerald surface. It would glow in the sun like a big gemstone.

As do Eren’s eyes - it is truly an extraordinary color. „(Y/n), listen to me: what you said about this world is true. All of it. But that doesn’t mean that there is nothing good in it! There are good things, good people, good moments - just because the world is cruel doesn’t mean that you have to accept it. You don’t have to protect yourself from everything and everyone.“

He and his words are so close to me; the words jump around in my skull. Eren squeezes my shoulder in a firm manner. „You are a good person. A very good person. You have no idea how… how little people could do what you did earlier with David. You make people believe that they are alright when they are afraid. Can you even imagine how much that means?!“

He stresses this part in particular, shaking his head, eyes closed with a humorless, disbelieving huff. Unable to see why I feel this way. „You are an extraordinary thing! Don’t let this crumble you...“ His eyes shine as he says this, emanating a confidence and belief in his words that almost make me forget just how bad this world really is.

***

That night, after Eren tucked me in as a token of friendship, I slept deeply and with disturbing dreams of David, his eyes open so wide it wasn’t natural, of blood pouring down the walls of my room like water, of an open, empty field. I stood on this field, with no walls to be seen on the horizon in any one direction. Just me and the silence of an open land and an even more open sky.

And then, shaking the entire earth in a low rumble, a vague shape, barely visible in the fog-like clouds, so far away from where I stood - nothing but a speck of life on a never-ending canvas of green. So tall it began to block the sun, throwing a shadow over the entire field and beyond, moving slower than anything I’d ever seen, slow but calculating, the lift of a leg.

I woke up with a blocked off gasp for air; blackness. In a panic, I forced my body to jolt away, any way. And then finally…light, air, space; defined space. I’d been pressing my face deep into my pillow, I then realized. It had made it so hard to breathe. Sweat makes my shirt cling to my body like a second skin.

For a minute, I sit there, slowing my breaths, wiping my teary eyes and gaining my orientation. I’m in the Headquarters of the Scouts; I work as a scribe; yesterday Eren visited me because I held David’s hand when he died. Yes, that’s what happened, what’s happening.

I look to my desk. There, in its envelope, lies David’s letter to Sam, ready to be delivered.

Waiting to reach the person it was written for. All the reason it exists in the first place. A simple piece of paper, holding the power to break down a world. It would be laughable, if it weren’t true.

I wonder what Sam looks like, what she is like. I know that she is a good, kind girl who has plenty of love to give. No other type would love a boy like David was, a soft and innocent one.

Even though I don’t know how Sam looks like, even though I don’t have a clue, I just know that for a fact. I have no trace of doubt. Outside my window I can quietly hear people beginning their day, going to train their combat-; maneuver- and horse-riding-skills.

‚So many soldiers‘, I think. I get up and get dressed, and after making my bed and washing my face, I head off to find Commander Erwin. I need the personal records of my clients so I can track down the addresses for the letters. When soldiers are unable to give me an address, this is usually what I do.

‚Every single one. Not a single note will be left. I swear to damn God if there is one. I will deliver every single one, I swear.‘ With a cold resolve, like a big black monster in my chest, I head down the corridors towards Erwin‘s office.

***

I only take a couple of breaks, only ever a few minutes in the sun, stretching myself a bit and trying to let the light clear my mind. It had been relatively early and Hanji had offered me a piece of bread and a cup of black coffee. She is a good Section Commander, always treating the soldiers equally and kindly. It’s easy to like her.

Erwin himself is working on some papers, but he refuses my help when I offer it to him. When he lost his arm, he immediately began to use his left arm, learning to write very quickly, though his writing is still just a little scribbly.

„You have a much more important task at hand than these lousy papers, (Y/n). It‘s important that we don‘t forget our fallen Comrades. No matter what.“ With those words, he resumed his work, his hand moving across the paper much more concentrated, his brows furrowed together.

Now that I was given access to the personal records - a wall of dark shelves in the room next to Erwin‘s Office - I go back to my room to collect my list of names; people whom I‘d already written letters for in the past five days, but still need the addresses to deliver them. It’s not that many, one might think - fifteen letters. But it’s not as simple as I would like it to be.

Since the fall of Wall Maria, many were without any homes, so often the most I get is an idea of where maybe their family could possibly be at this point. But it is a start and far better than no direction; there are residents for victims of the Overrunning of the outer ring, which give me a reasonable starting point. Folder after Folder, I find out everything I will need. When I finish up with the records, it’s midday.

The weather is nice, but it doesn’t help my mood; I don’t see how the world can look so beautiful when in reality, there is so much to fear, so much to protect yourself from. My dream comes back to mind and I shudder, looking away from the sky towards the training grounds. I‘ll need to prepare Mitty and some food for the next day; perhaps I can deliver all the letters tomorrow.

„(Y/n)!“ I turn around to see Armin and Eren approach, looking as though training had taken a toll. I try to smile at them. „Hey you two, how are you?“ I ask tiredly. Instead of a straight answer, Armin comes up and hugs me. „I saw how you looked yesterday…“ he says. With a sigh, I close my eyes and embrace him. Armin is a soft one too. It feels natural to hug him and I love him for the fact that he’s not embarrassed to show such affections publicly; it reminds me that to care is not a strange thing.

In a way, his embrace right now kind of grounds me - I am still here, living and breathing, just like Armin and Eren. „You worry about yourself. You are all so much…closer to all of it than I am.“ I say, releasing Armin reluctantly with one last squeeze. „No, Armin shakes his head, blue eyes bright with care, you are closer to some of our comrades than we‘ll ever be. I mean it.“

Eren steps to our side, serious. I remember him tucking me in last night, his eyes soft and smiling while he draped the duvet over my arm. I could see his embarrassment over showing his caring side, his cheeks a pretty red color in the light of my oillamp. When I tiredly teased him, he‘d shoved my head into the pillow, grumbling a fast: „Good night“, before he fled my room. All of that embarrassed, playful demeanor is now gone as he continues Armin’s thought.

„Yeah, what you do is kinda, well, special. You are there to convey someone’s feelings - we could never do that.“ „Yes, exactly, Armin agrees, nodding along, we couldn’t. We are scouts, we fight titans, but you…“ He tries to find the right words.

When I see Mikasa with Krista and Sasha some distance away, I wave. Krista waves back and they start to walk toward us. „…you carry very special messages. You help people to express what they feel. At least to me, that brings you much closer to what is happening than us, in a way…“ Armin is blushing a little, looking at a tree behind me.

Eren and I change a look and then I smile an actual, real smile. „Thank you, I say, both of you.“ And then I suddenly think of something. „Will you promise me that you’ll be careful? No, wait - what I actually mean is: please don’t…“

David comes back to my mind. I don’t know if it is because it is so fresh in my memory or because he was so young and innocent or because of his soft piano-hands that whispered of music and love. But he touched my heart. He got close to me. I hadn’t realized my tears until now. „…please don’t die you two.“

When Mikasa and the other two arrive, Armin is hugging me once more to comfort me, but this time we both cry, just a little, and I make sure to hug the others too, because I have to know that they know that I love all of them.

***

For a moment, I stop to watch the sunrise, holding Mitty by the rein; I can’t not watch.

The sky is so wide, so open, and it is filled with the most brilliant shades of gold, orange and violet, mixing in with the darkness of the night lingering overhead. It is as if watercolors were meeting eachother right infront of my eyes, only that they are all full of light and the stars that aren’t quite ready to go out yet make them sparkle. Next to me, Mitty nudges my shoulder, looking for a treat. She’s quite beautiful herself - tall and healthy, her black fur and mane make her look like she belongs to the night.

„Hey, you just had breakfast, Mitty…“ I mumble, caressing her smooth, warm nose. Mitty provides silent, warm comfort, letting me pet her nose and scratch her ears. She neighs softly, leaning towards my pocket. „Nah-ah, Mitty! Later; don’t make a fuss.“

I focus on the day ahead. After some more pets on her long neck, I mount the black mare and get comfortable in the sattle, checking for my backpack.

It contains all of the letters and the names. I cannot afford to have something happen to them.

I feel the monster inside of my chest grumble; it has not left, but has calmed down into a cool, threatening thought. ‚I will deliver all of you. Nobody get in my way; I will not tolerate an interference.‘ When my eyes fly across the training grounds and towards the building of Headquarters, I meet a pair of unexpected eyes. It’s Captain Levi.

He is standing just outside the main entrance, watching me. Dressed in very casual attire, a dirty-white shirt and black pants, he leans on the wall to the left, his arms crossed. It is not very often that I see him in anything other than his uniform. For a moment, as he stands there, I suddenly forget that he is the Captain. I realize that he too must’ve come out to look at the sunrise.

And that in combination with his simple attire, standing by the door, make him look like a normal man. Not the Captain. Mr. Ackermann.

I am too far away from him, so I simply raise my hand to show that I have noticed him. I don’t expect anything - Mr. Ackermann is a man who does whatever he deems right, which also includes whether or not to greet - but to my pleasant surprise, he raises a hand, just a little, from its resting place on his elbow and nods his head. Ever since I came to the Scout-regime to work for them, I help with the paperwork; nothing too exciting, but it is important work. So I see the Captain alone from time to time, though we do not talk all that much.

However, he immediately had my respect, and in an unspoken agreement if you will, he therefore respected me. Well, as someone under his authority, that is. But he is always polite, always thanking me if I bring papers to the archives so he won’t have to.

Once I made him some black tea - there had been a lot of old records, orders and what-nots that had to be organized, put into folders and labeled and so on - so we were quite busy for the better part of a day. I had been tired and bored and therefore didn’t think much of it when I made his tea.

I wanted to do something else for a minute - there was literally no reason for it. When he saw the tea on his desk, he looked at me, his face as set as ever, and said: „Make yourself a cup aswell. We’ll take a break from this trash.“ That was the only time we ever had an actual conversation; not so long, but surprisingly enjoyable.

„Gotta hand it to you - you make some good tea“, he‘d said, his usual monotonous and somewhat bored-sounding voice lighter than usual. He seemed relaxed and once I saw that, I relaxed aswell.

The remainder of our break, we drank black tea in a relatively comfortable silence, the both of us reading different things - him some papers and me a book. ‚Maybe I can pick up some black tea for him somewhere.‘

„Let’s go, Mitty.“ And with that, I turn my eyes ahead to the road leading to the mainroad.

Once we are out of the grounds, the sun begins to throw long, dark shadows, promising a day full of warm light ahead. I think of the letters and of the people I have written them for. And why.

I hope the sun will give me the strength I‘ll need to deliver these news.

***

I appreciate that so little people are about yet. The breeze rushing past my ears and Mitty’s steady steps are the only things I can hear. The air is fresh and carries the smell of the woods nearby.

It’s not too long before I reach the city and I feel my heart grow heavy, dreading the people I will meet today, only to tell them their beloved sons and daughters, siblings and lovers will not be coming back to them. Words. That’s the only thing they left them. I try to think about why it is that words hold the most power over us all. Why words exactly? And why only the spoken word?

It’s effect is so much more fresh, more direct and immediate than only Ink on paper. I sometimes feel as though I am insulting the people that I deliver these letters to; as though I am only adding insult to injury by handing them a piece of paper, holding a few words that will never have the same effect that they are meant to have because the voice that had said them - or meant to say them - has already left the earth together with the person who thought of them. Like the smell of the forest earlier in the wind, they were carried away to somewhere no one could ever follow to.

I gently maneuver Mitty through the city of Trost, passing the occasional man or woman going about their business. Some give me a look, but most simply ignore me, their eyes cast forward, their minds occupied with their own thoughts and troubles.

Once I reach an open space, I bring Mitty to a hault, bringing out the list of addresses from my backpack. ‚Schreiner‘. First one. The client was a sturdily built girl named Ella, with a thick, long braid that reached all the way down her back. She had had a tough character, the typical type.

Her words were straightforward and indicated a strong confidence; her dark eyes reminded me of a cat, always somewhat…treacherous. When I‘d written the letter, she’d been perfectly healthy, but heading out on a mission soon to go beyond the walls. ‚Something will happen eventually - if not this mission then maybe the next - I need one ready to go, y‘know?‘ I look at the name and address once more. A butchery. ‚Breathe, (Y/n).‘

I pet Mitty‘s neck and then move on to the next street. The sun is beginning to grow brighter and I see people begin to open their windows. A new day has begun.

***

By the time I have delivered ten of the fifteen letters, I want to return to the Headquarters.

It was mostly parents. They cried, they sobbed and asked and accused me for having lost their children. They had no one else to let their anger and sadness out on but me, the deliverer. I don’t blame them. I can’t blame them, really.

Still, it took me almost all of my strength to not break down into tears right infront of their eyes with some of them; those damned, desperate eyes that didn’t know where else to search for answers. Not that there was much to answer anyway.

There is no need for a question such as: „Where is my girl?!“ They know the answer to that already. I can’t tell them something like that, though, so I keep my words to myself. Even if some of them say painful things, I never argue with them. They are heartbroken people. The last thing I wish to do is to hurt them even further.

It’s midday and there are people littering the streets like colorful ants, chatting in one big blur of noise, so loud it almost manages to drown out my thoughts. The city makes me uncomfortable; it is loud and crowded, not like the grounds of the Headquarters, where there is plenty of space and much less people. It doesn’t feel as though the place is trying to back you into a corner.

I am so glad that Mitty is with me - it feels like she understands me. I go to find another corner of a street to dismount her for a minute; I have to collect myself before I continue. „Thank you, Mitty - you’re so patient with me“, I whisper to her while I get out of the sattle and land on the ground smoothly. Stepping close to her side as to avoid bumping into anyone, I reach into my pocket and pull out a carrot.

Immediately, Mitty begins to dance a little, shaking her head and pulling on her rein, eyes sparkling. I can‘t help but smile at her eagerness, calming her down with a few words before handing her the carrot. „You really do deserve it.“

As Mitty munches her treat, I take a moment to think of the people I encountered today. Strangely enough, the first delivery was the one to go the least expected. The Letter I had written for Ella was meant for her Father, Mr. Schreiner, who‘s first name I later learned was Alfred. He was the only person who had insisted to invite me inside his house.

I am used to people wanting to hear about my work with their loved ones, to describe the work for them, to describe my clients to them, even though they know them so much better than I do. But mostly, I experience that people wish to be alone with their grief. The‘ll take the letter and maybe say something. And then they will close their doors and their windows and make themselves as invisible as they can. I think they wish that, if they just try hard enough, they might actually disappear.

Mr. Schreiner did not do that. Instead, he wished to share his feelings with me, so he wouldn‘t have to carry them all by himself. I was relieved to take some of the load off of his large, broad shoulders; I was happy to.

Ella’s Father, a big, strong bolder of a man with a thick beard and eyebrows, who towered over me once he opened the door was, to my surprise, not angry with me. A butcher of such a massive built, I’d suspected enraged curses, or threats even, however, the man took the letter gingerly and listened to what I had to say.

Once I finished, he began to cry like a little boy, his huge shoulders shaking and tears falling down his gruff face endlessly. It took him a few minutes to be able to speak somewhat cohesively again. He clearly loved his child more than anything else.

„Th-thank you, lady, he’d sobbed, f-for…“ He had to stop and pull a large handkerchief out of his pocket to blow his nose and dab his eyes, even though that did not help to stop the tears.

They continued to fall like a flood. „It’s nothing, Sir…I am so sorry for your loss…“ I’d bowed to him and went to leave, but he stopped me, calling out to me in a broken voice: „Lady, w-will you come i-in? Please, I, he blowed his nose once more, trying to steady his breath, I would like to-to t-talk…“

It was such a heartbreaking sight to see such a large, strong and intimidating man so broken, I couldn’t say no. I felt so horrible and in an irrational way, as though all of it was my fault; as if I had been the one who killed his daughter; the one to break him.

Of course, logically speaking, this was not true, but… „A-alright Sir, if you want…“ With a gesture, Mr. Schreiner motioned for me to come inside and after I tied Mitty to a bar infront of the butchery, I entered his house.

We sat at a kitchentable, sitting by a window towards the backally. It was a narrow and dark street, which made me think of muggers and murders cornering you if you should be so unfortunate to enter this place.

Mr. Schreiner sobbed for a few minutes more, his hands hiding his thick eyebrows and parts of his beard. The weeping willow sprang to my mind and I was angry at myself for thinking that. Just as I was about to say something, anything really, he spoke up in a hoarse voice.

„I know you; acquaint‘s used your service…“ One more honk of his nose and then he slowly gained some steadiness in his words. As he told me about himself, his daughter and how things had gotten to this point where I, a complete stranger, was sitting at his table, I felt oddly relieved. Someone was talking to me, a person with a life and emotions was talking to me as an equal.

Not many clients were like this. Mr. Schreiner had lived an equally troubled and equally fortunate life, or so he said. An orphan himself, he had vowed to love and protect his family - if he would ever have one - more than anything, leaving an abusing foster family behind when he was fourteen. He had taken on any work he could get in order to stay off the streets, sleeping in barns and cellars, under bridges or beneath a table inside of bars with an exceptionally kind owner.

Later, when I left after maybe an hour or so later, Mr. Schreiner gave me some good cuts of dried meat to bring with me. „The least I can do. Enjoy it with someone if ye can; tastes better that way.“ I shook his hand, almost twice as big as my own, and thanked him earnestly. „You’re a kind man, Mr. Schreiner. I wish you all the best. And thank you very much - I have a friend who loves meat more than anything, so…“ I managed to get a smile out of him, even if it was overshadowed by his devastation.

„I’m glad; now, I don’t mean to keep ya, you got work to do.“ He squeezed my hand with both of his, eyes looking at me from beneath his eyebrows, shimmering with tears. „You’re a sweet one, lady. Make sure ye don’t lose that, yes?“ I almost lost to the lump in my throat, trying not to cry. I could not stop thinking of how alone kind Mr. Schreiner would be.

I nodded, returning the squeeze on his massive hands. He reminded me of an oak tree, sturdy and sheltering. „I‘ll try my best.“

I pinch the bridge of my eyes, taking a deep breath. The noise of the life around me. I let it seep into my mind as much as I can, I concentrate on it, trying to let it flood all of my thoughts. I have to keep going.

Focusing on anything else but my thoughts, I mount Mitty again, feeling how my backpack’s weight has increased a substantial amount since this morning. I haven’t met Sam yet. Neither the Winters, nor the Evergardens, nor the Gärtners or Bergmanns. I know every name. I set off into the river of dull, talking colors. ‚Breathe, (Y/n), you’ll be home soon.‘

***

Of course, Sam is the last person on my list. The last letter. I am tired and feel empty, sitting on Mitty‘s back, the sun almost uncomfortably warm on my head. It‘s aching, but that is not just from the sun. Sam‘s House is on the outskirts of the city, so once I get there, it is already noon.

The house stands between two others, not setting itself apart except for it‘s color. It is painted white, which has gone a little dull with the years, but it makes the building seem lighter, more easygoing than its neighbors.

Another one of countless sighs leave me and when I slip out of my saddle once more, I stand next to Mitty and press my face against her long neck, inhaling her warm, somewhat stinging scent. As if she knows what is happening in my mind, Mitty lowers her head and cranes it towards me, one of her large black eyes blinking slowly. The warmth her body produces is so different from that of the sun.

Clutching my backpack, I shut my eyes and for a delicious moment, all there is is Mitty‘s warmth against my face, her soft fur tickling my skin, just barely, and her scent in my nose, filling my lungs. But I force my eyes open again and force myself even more to step towards the house. Now I am standing just infront of the wooden door. I don‘t know what to expect. So, taking the last, lonely letter out of the backpack, I knock.

Nobody opens for a minute. Then, with a creak, the door swings open and a young woman steps out. She looks like a farmer‘s daughter; well-fed, strong, with thick, dirty-blonde hair falling over her shoulders. Her eyes. I find myself frozen in thought. They look so much like Mitty’s, almost black they are so dark. And large and kind.

„Hello, can I help you?“ she asks, in a tone I cannot interpret. „…are you Sam?“ The words come out hoarse and weak, there is no strength to them anymore. She nods her head, making her wavy, blonde hair sway. Like trees leaning in the wind. Mitty snorts behind me. I can’t do it. With tears now falling, I reach out with the letter, my face scrunching up pathetically. I hate myself. „This is from David…I‘m so, so sorry…“

#aot x you #aot fanfiction #violet evergarden #aot levi #aot eren #attack on titan #drabble #aot au #aot armin #levi attack on titan #aot final season #aot angst

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers Lunatic Parade Special Pamphlet Short Story: The 12 Vampires and the Magic Lamp [ENG Translation]

Original title: １２人のヴァンパイアと魔人のランプ

Source: Diabolik Lovers Lunatic Parade Limited Edition Special Pamphlet

Summary: After the Parade has come to an end, Yui receives a special ‘Magic Lamp’ from Count Walter’s butler which can be used to grant a single wish. As she tries to refuse the gift, the Sakamaki, Mukami and Tsukinami brothers promptly stop her and begin to fight over who has the right to use this valuable treasure. She escapes, but the boys chase her around the city, each of them determined to have their own wish granted. ーー And so, their game of tag begins.

“Chichinashi! Where are you hidin’!?”

“Oooi~ Bitch-chan~! Be a good girl and show yourself?”

With the Parade having come to an end, Ayato-kun and Laito-kun’s voices echo through a now quiet and nearly deserted Glimmer Street. While hiding in the shadow of the buildings, a sof sigh fell from my lips.

“...What to do? I have to hurry and go to Bernstein Castle...”

Right now, I am on the run not only from Ayato-kun and Laito-kun, but from a total of 12 different Vampires.

All of this happened because I obtained the golden, shimmering ‘magic lamp’ I’m currently holding in my hands.

ーー It happened after I managed to regain my heart with everyone’s help.

As I was about to leave this city to return to the Human World, I was approached by a butler working for Count Walter. He handed me this ‘Magic Lamp’ as an apology for the trouble his Master had caused me. According to what I was told, it is an extremely valuable treasure which will grant any one wish.

Furthermore...The Sakamaki, Mukami and Tsukinami brothers were there to witness the whole ordeal.

“I just can’t accept something so valuable. ...I’ll give this back to you, okay?”

As I said that in hope of returning to Bernstein castle afterwards, they stopped me in disbelief.

And then claimed that if I did not want it, they would use it instead. ...This resulted into a fight and before they knew it, I had made a run for it, taking the lamp with me.

ーー And that is how our game of tag started.

I am not quite sure what everyone would wish for, but I believe we don’t need this thing if it can fulfill one person’s wish only.

“Heeh...So that’s your reasoning. Well, I’m pretty sure it’s useless though...”

“ーー S-Shuu-san...!?”

“Not just Shuu. I’m here too. Geez, you really made us go through the trouble of lookin’ for you.”

When I raised my head, Subaru-kun was standing next to me as well. ...No, it wasn’t just the two of them. All of the Sakamaki brothers had gathered, from Ayato-kun and Laito-kun whom I believed had walked past me earlier, to Kanato-kun and even Reiji-san.

“Hehe...You’re pretty desperate, Subaru.”

“I mean, Subaru-kun’s going to wish for Bitch-chan to fall head over heels in love with him, right~? No wonder he’s so desperate, nfu~”

“D-Don’t be makin’ up lies! My wish is a new coffin!”

“All I want...is to live surrounded by an endless amount of sweets!”

“In that case, I’m gonna wish for a huge load of takoyaーー No, actually, might not be bad to have Chichinashi turned into a Chichiari*.”

--> チチアリ or ‘Chichiari’ would be the opposite of ‘Chichinashi’, literally meaning ‘to have boobs’.

“Eh!? M-Me...!?”

“You can’t, Ayato-kun. I’ll be one turning Bitch-chan into a voluptuous, young woman after all~*”

--> He literally describes it as a ナイスバディのオネーサン or ‘Nice body no Onee-san’. Onee-san is used to refer to women who are older than you are but since Laito-kun is only 17 in human years, it would apply to a girl in her early 20s as well.

“G-Geez! Cut it out, you two...!”

“...You guys really came up with some bullshit. If it can grant any wish, I’d make it so the Old Man never bothers me again...Pwaah...”

And so, they began to slowly close in on me. The very moment they reached for the lamp, Reiji-san - who had been the only one remaining quiet so far - suddenly raised his voice.

“Would you care explain this to me? ...Because you kept touching the lamp with those sweaty palms, there are now fingerprints all over it! Come on, it is not too late yet! Put these on at once!”

While frantically shouting at me, he threw a pair of white gloves my way. Surprised by his menacing look, I put them on as asked, and Reiji-san finally nodded his head in agreement.

“I am disappointed...Do none of you grasp the true value of this lamp?”

“Haah? Are we really not allowed to touch it with our bare hands...?”

“It looks pretty normal from the outside though~ I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a similar example in Kanato-kun’s room...?”

“Yes. ...Well, that one isn’t capable of granting wishes though.”

Reiji-san sighed deeply at Ayato-kun, Latio-kun and Kanato-kun’s consecutive comments.

“...Only two of these ‘magic lamps’ exist in this world, making them very valuable from a historic point of view. Furthermore, the lamp may disappear once it has granted one’s wish, therefore it revolts me you lot are even considering putting it to use...”

While the other guys seemed little interested in Reiji-san’s emotion-laden speech, he once again spoke up.

“Well, I doubt you will ever understand. ーー Especially you, whom I did not expect to even join us in the first place...”

“...Shut up. Who cares?”

Shuu-san calmly brushed off Reiji-san’s taunt as if it was nothing.

“Hehe...Seems like he doesn’t give a shit ‘bout what you say.”

“Fufu, take a look at that frustrated expression on Reiji’s face. ...This might be the most interesting thing I’ve seen in quite some time.”

“Geez, cut it out you two~ Don’t you feel bad for Reiji~?”

“Feel bad? ...Hehe. Pretty sure your words hurt even more.”

The other four brothers who had been listening in on their conversation continued to chuckle...Which eventually caused Shuu-san to burst out laughing as well.

Seems like this sight dealt a pretty hefty blow to Reiji-san’s pride, as he stood there shaking violently from sheer anger.

I better make a run for it before things take a turn for the worse...

I used the fact they had suddenly completely forgotten about me to my advantage, and left the place at once.

“...Phew. Thank god. Seems like they didn’t notice.”

I eventually found myself on Aizen Alley, one of the streets located in the very back of Glimmer street. To be honest, I wasn’t too thrilled about having to pass through there, but if I wanted to head to the castle while avoiding Ayato-kun and the others, I had no other choice.

“Hehe...Too bad. You can’t escape us First Bloods.”

“Hand over that lamp you are holding at once.”

I gasp at the voices resounding from the darkness. Those who appeared were Shin-kun and Carla-san.

“I-I can’t do that...! I believe it is wrong to use the lamp for one’s own selfish pursuits...”

“If we give it back, it’ll just get thrown into some old, dusty storage room, right? In that case, I’m pretty sure the lamp would be happier to have someone use it as well?”

“B-But...”

“Come on, don’t hesitate. You’re keeping Nii-san waiting as well. Can’t you hurry up?”

“...T-Then, what would you wish for, Shin-kun?”

While snorting at my desperate question, he answered with a smile.

“That should be obvious. I’d make sure those filthy Vampires disappear off the face of the Demon World at onーー”

“ーー No. We want cured ham.”

“N-Nii-san...?”

“We shall change all food in this world to cured ham. That is my...No, the dearest wish of all First Bloods.”

“R-Right...”

Carla-san would blurt that out with a straight face. It is the very definition of a selfish wish but I wonder if Shin-kun is truly okay with it? ...I look over at Shin-kun while wondering that, seeing him look at Carla-san in utter defeat.

“...Well then, woman. Hand it over right now.”

“You’re actually hoping to fulfill that wish...!?”

“Yes, of course.”

All food in this world will turn into cured ham...That is just simply pushing it one step too far. It pains me to have to deceive him...But I decided to tell a certain lie.

“H-Have you already had the chance to try the cured ham galette which is said to be this city’s speciality...?”

“...Pardon?”

“It’s a limited edition galette which is available at stores only after the Parade has ended. While passing by the shops earlier, I noticed that only very few were left, so I figured I would inform you just in case...”

While there was no guaranteeing he would believe me, I wanted to make Carla-san forget about the lamp, even if just for a few minutes. With that sole purpose in mind, I continued my act.

“...Let us go, Shin. Just leave this woman be.”

“W-Wait, Nii-san! You’re just going to believe her on her word!?”

“We will know whether she was speaking the truth or not once we get to the shop. Even if she had been lying, capturing a human woman is child’s play to me. However, if she has been speaking the truth...”

“If we don’t hurry, they’ll run out of cured ham galettes, right? ...Right, I understand.”

Realizing there was no point in trying to reason with him, Shin-kun reluctantly trailed behind Carla-san as they left.

I truly am sorry...While internally apologizing to both of them, I headed towards my desitation.

“Haah...I can finally see it in the distance...”

Some time after I bid farewell with the Tsukinami brothers, I finally got close to Bernstein castle.

“Oh no...I can’t approach the castle like this...”

After all, four familiar figures were standing lined up by the castle’s gate. Those are the Mukami brothers...Of course, with Ruki-kun standing in the middle. As to be expected of a strategist like him. If I wanted to return the lamp to its owner, I would have to make it back here eventually. They were one step ahead of me.

“Eve...Found you...”

“...!! A-Azusa-kun!?”

When I timidly turned around at the voice suddenly calling for me from behind, Azusa-kun - who was talking to Ruki-kun and the others up until seconds ago - suddenly stood right in front of me.

“Ahー M-neko-chan! So this is where you’ve been~!”

“Che...Ya sure took yer sweet time. You’re damn late, Sow!”

“...Calm down, you guys. If we make too much of a ruckus, we’ll attract the attention of the others.”

When I raised my voice, it caught everyone’s attention and without a chance to slip away, I was soon surrounded by the four Mukami brothers.

“I’m sorry, guys. But I won’t hand over this lamp to anyone...!”

After jumping the gun like that, Ruki-kun let out a disappointed sigh.

“...Seems like you have got the wrong idea. I simply want to look after the lamp for you.”

“Eh...? You don’t want to use it to grant your own wish?”

“Of course not. If a Vampire such as myself holds on to the lamp, it will decrease the chances of one of the other guys stealing it.”

“You say that buuuut~ ...Ruki-kun, aren’t you actually hoping to use that lamp to renovate our manor~?”

“Your own exclusive study room off-limits for anyone else, and a play room filled with nothing but chess boards...Hehe, as to be expected of Mr. Eldest son.”

“Kuh...! Don’t assume such things. All I want to do is to make the home we have received from that man the most comfortable for you all to live in...!”

While Ruki-kun chuckles sarcastically after his true intentions are exposed by his siblings, Azusa-kun reached out for me.

“Listen, Eve...The four of us talked it out and...We’ve decided to use the lamp together with Ruki as our representative...”

“Ruki-kun’s so mean, you know~! I was actually going to wish for a hundred year’s worth of Vongole Bianco.”

“I was gonna ask for the power to manipulate the weather...But my idea got shot down at once. ...Haah...And here I thought I could make field work a lil’ easier on myself...”

“I just want to be with Eve so...I didn’t really have any particular wishes...”

“Is that so...? It’s really admirable of you all to hold back on your own desires.”

Even though the younger brothers were voicing their complaints, it didn’t seem like they were going to force their own wishes through. I’m sure it is because Ruki-kun intends to make a wish which benefits the whole family, as the deep bond of trust between the four brothers somehow made me feel warm inside.

However...That still does not mean I will give them the lamp.

“Uhm, you see...It just doesn’t sit right with me to only have one person’s wish granteーー!?”

The second I felt as if something was closing on me, a large sound resounded from the nearby buildings before they collapsed.

“...!? This magic...”

“The Tsukinami’s...perhaps? Look, over there...!”

“Ugeh! They look hella pissed off! Did ya do somethin’!?”

“Uu...W-Well...”

I could feel my heart drop at Yuma-kun’s words. Carla-san and Shin-kun must be upset about the lie I ended up telling them back then...

“Say, what should we do!? At this rate, we’ll all be turned to dust...!”

Kou-kun’s exclamation made me panic as I rushed towards the two brothers. Either way, I just had to apologize as quickly as possible...However, I was stopped by the Sakamaki brothers before I could reach them.

“You’ve got nowhere to run now...Oi, hand me the lamp already!”

“What are you saying, Subaru? I will be using the lamp. You’re in the way!”

“Hell no! I’m gonna have my wish granted!”

“Ehー Let me have the honor for once~ We can only use it once and my wish is obviously the best.”

Shuu-san joins in a little late as well and before I know it, the Sakamaki, Mukami and Tsukinami brothers are all gathered just like when we started off.

Glares were being exchanged here and there as a hostile atmosphere fills the air. I can no longer stop them all by myself. In that case, I will have to rely on an outer source to back me up. I didn’t want to use the lamp to have a wish granted but...This is the only way to stop their fight.

While rubbing the side of the lamp, I spoke up with a loud voice.

“Release lanterns into the sky once more!”

White smoke emitted from the lamp and soon after ー Poof! The lamp disappeared with a popping sound.

When I look up at the sky, I once again witness the same magical sight of countless lanterns floating through the sky, just like they did a few hours ago. ...At some point, their quarreling voices had gone quiet as well.

“You...Haah. You really are a foolish woman.”

“Ya really think we’re happy with this crap? Geez. Ya really used the lamp for some useless shit...”

“...Eh...?”

Shuu-san and Yuma-kun’s remarks catch me off guard as I froze on the spot.

“...Livestock, seems like you did not grasp the true value of that lamp.”

“Exactly...To think a great hidden treasure of the Demon World has been lost over such a ridiculous wish...!”

Ruki-kun and Reiji-san voiced their complaints as well.

“B-But...! All of you were moved by the lanterns, no...?”

I frantically reached out for the others, hoping that at least one of them would agree with me. ...That was all I wished for, yet...

“I mean, sure? But to be honest, I didn’t need to see it a second time...”

“...I’d hate to have to agree with a mere Vampire...But I’ll admit that Kou is right this one time. You feel the same, don’t you, Nii-san?”

“...My cured ham...”

“Too bad, Shin-san...Seems like Carla-san can’t hear you right now...”

“Ah-aah...I was looking forward to seeing a sexy Bitch-chan as well~”

“Me too. I was already making plans for which sweet I would try first...!”

“Fuck! There goes my plan of gettin’ a coffin in which nobody can bother me...!”

All I got in return were negative responses and sighs.

“...Guess I’ve got no other choice then! Oi, Chichinashi! Let me suck your blood to make up for it!”

“W-Wait! That’s way too sudden...!”

“Shut up! That’s the only thing which can calm this anger inside of me!”

While Ayato-kun closed in, I looked around me in search of someone to save me, but all I could see were a bunch of eyes glaring at me from the darkness. At this rate, they will all take my blood. ...There is no way I would come out of that alive. Realizing I had to make a run for it...I dashed away at full-speed.

“Ah! Wait, M-neko-chan!!”

“Geez, Bitch-chan! I’m not scary though~!”

The many lanterns floating through the night sky was a sight to behold, but unfortunately, I did not have the leaway to enjoy that right now. After all, I had to flee from their approaching footsteps and voices calling out for me as soon as possible.

I didn’t want them to fight and while I never expected them to become friends, I wished they would at least try and be on neutral terms with each other.

That wish was most definitely granted. Right now, they had put the strained relationship between the different families aside to join forces.

However, knowing their shared goal is my blood...doesn’t make me happy at all.

ーー The Demon World’s Parade safely came to an end, but my night had only just begun.

ーー END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers short story #diabolik lovers translation #shuu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #ruki mukami #kou mukami #yuma mukami #azusa mukami #shin tsukinami #carla tsukinami #diabolik lovers lunatic parade

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thosewickedlovelies · 3 years

Text

Into the Woods: chapter 1 | Frankie Morales x GN!Reader

Summary: Neither you nor Frankie are expecting to run into anyone in the middle of the woods.

Tags: none!! all audiences!

Word Count: 3,054

Note: HE’S HERE!!! Please enjoy the official first installment of the outdoors insta frankie series 🌳📷😍 So much love to the wonderful @yoditorian for coming up with this concept and Frankie’s IG name, and also helping me brainstorm 💗💗💗

Backstory

---

Francisco Morales loves this shit. Walking for hours without seeing another soul, nothing to think about but where to place his feet on the path ahead of him. Assuming he’s following a path at all. These are his woods- the country surrounding the house he’s lived in for years, a place just shy of isolated from the nearest town. They’re not really his, legally. He’s not exactly sure what the rules of land designation entail, but it’s not a national park, and no one has ever chased him up about the occasional wood-chopping or campfire-building he does.

So he walks.

It’s a damn perfect day for it, too. Brilliantly sunny with a hint of breeze, rustling the greenery around him and carrying the scents of sun-warmed leaves and late summer flowers. The birds are in high spirits, their vibrant chirping filling the air with chatter. Screeches of alarm, sometimes, too- a side effect of hiking with a giant energetic dog. Frankie watches ruefully as Oso crashes off into the undergrowth again, doubtless chasing down some poor creature.

He slows his pace to wait for her, taking the opportunity for a water break. His heavy pack thuds to the ground. Frankie grunts as he stretches, rotating his shoulders and flapping his sweaty t-shirt away from his back. I should really hike along the river more often, he muses. He doesn’t mind working up a sweat (obviously), but a ready supply of cool water during a long hike does wonders for one’s well-being.

“Boof!” Oso’s deep bark as she returns brings Frankie’s attention to her.

“Yeah? Would you like that, too? A nice swim in the river to cool you down?” He crouches to ruffle her neck fur the way she likes. Oso only pants in answer, blinking at him adoringly.

She slurps thirstily as Frankie pours some water from his bottle into her mouth. He chuckles. “Don’t worry, Osita, we’ll be near some water soon.”

Their goal today is a small pond Frankie had only found earlier this year. It’s a good spot for his campfire cooking, as well as endlessly photogenic. This is marginally important to him, as he attempts to keep a regular diary of his wanderings through instagram. It’s mostly for fun, but like anyone else, he isn’t immune to the particular buzz from his posts unexpectedly getting a high number of likes.

But he had also discovered that he wasn’t the only one with this hobby. There were whole communities of people out there who found peace the same way he did, and they happily gave advice if ever he posted about a struggle.

Frankie pauses again a short way away from the pond to make sure he’s on course. Oso sniffs around excitedly, bounding off again while Frankie checks his GPS. “Huh.” Looking around, he laughs at himself a little when it tells him he’s almost walked past it. He rotates to his left and thinks he spots the telltale gap in the trees ahead. He tucks the GPS away.

Oso barks from somewhere ahead of him. A split second later, a human yelp sounds from the same direction. His eyes widen.

“Shit!” Frankie breaks into a run. In all the years he’s been out here, he rarely sees other people this far from the trails. “Oso!” he yells. “Here, girl!”

Oso isn’t aggressive (unless the situation warrants it), but whatever new friend she thinks she’s meeting won’t know that. Frankie races toward where he judges the noise came from, heart pounding. He bursts through some bushes and is almost knocked down by his beast jumping up to greet him.

“Hey, girl, who was- no!” Oso peels away again across a bit of clear ground, her collar slipping through Frankie’s fingers. He’s barreling toward where her tail wags from behind a bush, when you stand.

Frankie skids to a stop so abruptly his feet slide out from under him. His ass hits the ground with a thud, his rucksack taking only part of the fall. He scrambles upright gracelessly, clumsy with the weight on his back, never taking his eyes off of you.

You stare at each other.

Nothing about this moment feels real to Frankie- you could announce that you’re the dryad who rules this forest and he would believe you, that’s how unlikely your appearance is. Shifting sunbeams dapple your skin, and even from several feet away he can tell that you have the most striking eyes he’s ever seen.

For a second your gaze flicks down to the side. You lean slightly as if something has nudged you, and as you move your hand away from it Frankie realizes you’re holding something.

Shit. He returns to his senses. Is that a weapon?

He’s met people on the trails before, most of them harmless fellow hikers. But occasionally there are some with weird vibes, especially the farther away from the paths you got. He’s fully capable of defending himself, but that doesn’t mean he wants to have to.

“Oso! Here!” Frankie says sternly. Your expression doesn’t change as you watch the dog trot over to him. Jaw set, wide eyes tracking his every motion.

He supposes he can’t blame you for being wary. Or armed. It’s a perfectly reasonable response to running into a strange man in the middle of the woods. He knows he’s not exactly the picture of reassurance. Tall and broad, probably too sweaty to believably claim he’s on a casual hike. He decides to speak.

“Sorry to startle you.” Frankie keeps his hands by his sides where you can see them, resting one on Oso’s head. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this far from the trails.”

Your tense stance doesn’t relax. “Me either.”

His head tips to the side. “Do you come to this area regularly, then?” He tries to keep his voice slow and soothing.

He can see you assessing him, trying to measure how safe he is. “I have been recently. What about you?”

“All the time. Me and Oso take nice long walks.” Frankie pats the dog’s head in a more formal introduction. “I like to come out here and cook.” Your brow furrows at that, bemusement appearing amidst your guarded features. Before you can respond, he prompts “What are you doing this far off the main paths?”

“Foraging. You come all the way out here to cook?” Disbelief is etched in every line of your face.

Well, when you say it like that.

Foraging. That makes perfect sense. Frankie follows a few of them on instagram. He’s always pleased when he notices the more obvious edible plants and berries, but it’s not usually his focus. His vegetable garden at home takes up most of his efforts. It’s managed to thrive in the years since he started it after leaving the army, and it’s become a source of pride for him to be able to wander out, pick some things for the day’s meal, and head right into the woods.

“Yeah,” he responds. “Here, I can show you. I keep an instagram.”

Your eyebrows rise even higher at that.

Moving slowly and watching for your reaction, Frankie holds his hands up as he turns, keeping one in the air while the other makes a show of tugging his phone from a side pocket of his pack. He keeps the screen visible as he opens the app, then pulls his arm back in the beginning of an underhanded throw. Poised as such, he looks at you expectantly.

Now you’re almost frowning. Clearly still suspicious, but possibly fractionally less concerned about danger from a man willing to give his phone to a complete stranger in the woods. Hesitantly, you raise your hands to catch it.

Finally Frankie can make out that the thing in your hand in a canister of mace. The sight inexplicably relieves him. Pepper spray is a normal person’s defense, something that anyone might carry to help themselves feel safe. Far from the kind of weapon he would fear from someone angling for true violence.

All of this decided in the space of a second, Frankie gently tosses you his phone.

You’re so distracted by delighting in the prolific blackberry bushes which surround your pond that you don’t hear the approaching creature until it’s upon you.

You screech in shock at the massive fur-thing’s appearance, bowling you over from your crouch. It doesn’t seem bothered about wanting you to pet it, only wiggling and sniffing at you enthusiastically. You register the collar around its neck at the same you hear the shout.

“Oso!” That must be its name. “Here, girl!” The dog dashes away, then back, clearly torn about leaving her new friend so soon.

Icy adrenaline douses your system. That was a man’s voice, rough and cavernous. Who knows what kind of person he could be, no matter the earnestness of his dog? Your hands shake as you rip open your bag for the canister of mace you’ve never had to use.

There’s a pronounced rustle and then his voice sounds again, terrifyingly close. “Hey, girl, who was- no!”

Shit. The dog is back, looking at you eagerly, rear in the air and tail wagging like this is an exciting game. You have to choose a course of action quickly. Twisting the safety off the pepper spray, you rise to your feet.

His reaction is almost funny; you think you might have laughed if this was literally any other scenario. Like a cartoon character slipping on a banana peel, the man wrenches himself to a stop with such force his feet fly up from the ground. The contents of his bulging pack crunch against the earth, but he barely seems to notice he’s fallen, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time he cycles back to his feet.

You stare at each other.

That’s a man all right. Towering even from this distance, with wide shoulders that help the impression. His eyes are round and stunned, the cap on his head knocked slightly askew and freeing sweat-dark curls to spring around his ears.

Your first thought is that he looks warm. Not temperature warm, although the gleam of sweat on his neck confirms that, too. But approachable warm. There’s a softness to his body that belies the muscle his motions highlight, creases around his eyes that wrinkle brown like tree bark in the sun.

Then his dog noses your thigh, reminding you that you have pepper spray in your hand because you’re in the middle of the damn woods with a potentially threating stranger. You risk a half-second glance down to move the canister away from her face.

You regard the man with stony distrust, fear flushing your face and neck with heat. Confrontation makes the blood roar in your ears, but it gradually quiets as he orders the creature away from you. For several more seconds the only sound is rustling leaves.

He clears his throat. “Sorry to startle you,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this far from the trails.”

His voice doesn’t sound as harsh now that he’s not frantically shouting for his dog. Still you keep your answer short. “Me either.”

His head tilts inquisitively. “Do you come to this area regularly, then?”

That’s a fair question. He has a right to be curious too. “I have been recently. What about you?”

“All the time. Me and Oso take nice long walks.” The man pats her head, and the dog’s ears perk up. “I like to come out here and cook.” Wait, what? Before you have a chance to process that, he continues. “What are you doing this far off the main paths?”

You won’t be deterred. “Foraging. You come all the way out here to cook?” If this is some elaborate murder setup, that’s not a very plausible lie.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Here, I can show you. I keep an instagram.”

You’re slightly more skeptical than fearful now. You watch silently as the man turns in place, putting the side of his backpack in your line of sight so you can see him fish his phone out. He makes his actions slow and obvious. The white background of an instagram page glows on the screen as he retracts his arm in a throwing pose. Clear eyes meet yours.

What? This guy is just going to...give you his phone, no questions asked? Taken aback, you can feel the deep grooves of a frown between your eyebrows as you consider.

You’re hesitant to reveal the pepper spray, but if there’s still some possibility this is a trick, he might second-guess attacking you if he sees you’re armed. You ready yourself for a catch.

Which you accomplish, easily, his toss landing the phone right in your hands. The dog lurches forward, but this time man has a grip on her collar and she’s forced to halt with a whine.

“Sorry, girl. We’re not playing fetch right now, okay? Sit!” The man doesn’t even seem concerned with monitoring you, looking down seriously at his dog as he speaks.

You keep one eye on them as you turn your attention to the screen. Frankieintheforest, reads the username at the top of the page. Just a guy out in the woods, continues his bio. Well, that’s accurate, anyway. Frankie, huh? You spare him another glance, matching various features of him to the ones in his photos. A broad hand here, sturdy hiking boots there. Several glimpses of the same flannel that’s currently tied to the strap of his backpack. His face in a few group shots. You click on an image which shows Oso parading around a yard with a grinning toddler on her back. “Ferocious beast carries away yet another victim,” quips the caption. An involuntary smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

There are too many photos going too far back for it to be fake. You turn the screen toward him. “Cute kid,” you comment. “Is she yours?”

His eyebrows lift in surprise. “No,” the man half laughs. “My buddy’s. I’m just the godfather.” A small smile softens his face as he takes in the picture.

Being named godfather was nothing to sneeze at. You study the man carefully, keeping your face neutral. He seems genuine, his dog keen and friendly. Dogs were a good judge of character, right? Indicative of the character of their owner? He hasn’t demanded anything from you, not done anything threatening beyond just being here.

You glance between him and the phone again. “Frankie?” you question.

He raises one hand in a wave, directing a crooked sort of smile at you. “That’s me,” Frankie confirms.

You offer him your name in return. “Uh, you can have this back now.” You gesture with the phone.

He brings his hands up to catch it, and you thank every deity you know of when your throw connects. You’re at a bit of a loss for what to do next, however. You suppose this means you’re at a truce. But you still don’t think you’d be able to let yourself focus on foraging while knowing there’s a stranger wandering so nearby.

Frankie seems to be thinking the same thing. One hand rubs over the back of his neck. “Well,” he begins. “My plans for today were to sit by this pond and cook over a fire.” He points his thumb to the right, where not far away the reflection of sunlight on water wavers against the tree trunks.

“You can join me if you want.” He shrugs awkwardly. “I’m just gonna collect some tinder and then park it, so you don’t have to worry about me interrupting your foraging or anything.”

Oso finally wriggles free of his grasp and surges forward, leaping across to you with a triumphant woof! “Oso, no!” Frankie stumbles after her, only to stop after two steps, clearly unwilling to make you uncomfortable by getting too close. He looks on helplessly, hands flexing.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. This time you offer her your free hand to sniff, which she does, before promptly shoving her head beneath it for pets. Amused, you comply. Her multi-hued fur is soft beneath your fingers.

“You’re alright, aren’t you, Oso?” You dart a self-conscious glance back up to her owner, but he appears content to let you coo at his dog.

“She’s a good judge of character,” Frankie says simply.

You swallow. Those deep brown eyes linger over you, and this is all just a bit...much. “Right. Well. I’m just going to…” you ease back, hoping to convey ‘continue going about your business.’

“Oh, sure!” He takes a little hop backward. “I’ll be...here.” His hand makes a small circling motion to indicate a limited nearby area. “You’ll hear me before you see me. Or Oso.”

Frankie frowns slightly as if something has occurred to him. “Uh, she might want to follow you around today though. I can tie her to a tree if that would bother you? I don’t usually watch her too closely,” he admits sheepishly.

“Oh, that’s okay.” You realize that you mean it as your thoughts continue to form. “She’ll make for good protection if I meet any more big scary strangers.” You aim the last words down to the dog herself, sending a wry a sidelong glance to said stranger.

He chuckles again, a rasp of a sound like creaking branches. “That’s fair. But I meant it when I said I’ve never seen anyone else in this particular area. You’re pretty safe.” He punctuates his statement with a nod to the canister still in your hand, soft understanding clear in his face.

Your head ducks slightly. “Well,” you say again. ”I’ll..see you around. I guess.” You don’t wait for a farewell, turning to foist your pack back onto your shoulder. You strain your ears for any noise behind you as you flee, but there’s no sound of pursuit.

“Go ahead. Have fun, Oso,” Frankie calls, already at a distance from your quick pace. There’s a distinctly animal scurrying, and then the dog bursts into being by your side.

Your arms wheel as you jump. “Jeez, you are enormous,” you mumble, pausing to pet her again. Discreetly you look over your shoulder in time to see Frankie turn away from you, heading for your pond.

Post note: I know pepper spray is like, super illegal in the UK and other places, but it’s not abnormal to carry around in the US so just pretend it’s fine.

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss, @leonieb, @computeringturtle

#frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales x reader #triple frontier fic #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #outdoors insta frankie

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zotlel · 3 years

Text

Fall Into You (M) - 01

pairing: jaebeom x you

genre: romance, angst, series, eventual smut

synopsis: Your love life has been filled with nothing but bad experiences. Determined to give up on the idea of finding the one you meet a man who is desperate to change your mind and have you see him as more.

word count: 5.0k

This was it, you thought. It was something you had feared for months, something you wanted so desperately to not be true. You felt empty, dead, barren, all the things you told yourself you would never be, yet here you were.

The thought had finally occurred to you as you felt your recent Tinder meetup thrust inside of you. His name was Xavier, a Spanish entrepreneur in his mid-20’s who just so happened to be in town testing a study group on his latest business venture. Yet the only thing this man had come close to doing all night was testing your patience. From his sleaze-ball attitude to the way he aggressively attempted to fuck you. Let’s just say you were grateful he couldn’t see your distasteful facial expression as he took you from behind.

You were depleted of all emotions in this moment as the man attempted to make love to your empty womb. You didn’t even feel anger or sadness at this point, your body felt like some sort of abandoned amusement park. The rides and attractions were there for everyone to see, they were just void of life. You feared that eventually, a dead body would feel warm compared to yours. The fear for you was so real, so scary, to think that you were just some damaged goods.

You started to feel suffocated from the motel’s disgustingly tacky red satin bed sheets that your head was currently being shoved deeper and deeper into. So you decided to end this God-awful encounter early. Sitting your body up causes the poor Xavier to lose his rhythm effectively allowing you to overtake power and position his dumbfounded body beneath you. Luckily the man lasted about as long as you had the capacity for, he gripped your hips tightly, possibly leaving a bruise, causing you to at least enjoy one sensation that night.

Once the man had finished he attempted to grab your naked form in one could only assume to be a cuddle, you had absolutely no capacity to even humor the idea. Feigning an early morning you quickly gathered your things and headed directly for the door, not so much as even pretending to want to see him ever again.

The walk of shame. 3 AM, unknown neighborhoods, brisk weather, and a clearer state of mind all accompanied you on your walk home. You officially felt at a total loss with yourself. You had tried the relationship thing, the casual dating, and now here you were attempting one-night-stands, and yet nothing helped you feel complete.

“If only he could see me now,” you say quietly to no one in particular.

Morning light hits you like a bucket of cold water. Apparently in your self-loathing state last night you completely neglected to change out of your cocktail dress and close your blinds. You groan audibly pulling your plush pillow to cover your head from the obscene light. The damage had already been done, you were now officially awake and forced to begin your day.

Dragging yourself to your bathroom you start by turning the shower to the hottest temperature possible and begin to strip from your attire. The woman staring back at you in the mirror is one that you had unfortunately been well acquainted with recently. With the smudged raccoon eyes and red nose that had broken through last night’s foundation, she was an absolute mess.

You scrub and scrub your body under the hot water as if it were some kind of remedy for the way you felt inside. No matter how raw you made your skin you still couldn’t erase the emptiness you felt throughout your core.

That is enough, you think to yourself. Enough of this vile attitude that you had towards yourself. Did you really need to remind yourself daily about what an amazing life you had? A great job, amazing friends, and a beautiful apartment in which you shared rent with a great roommate. Had you really stooped low enough in your womanhood that you would consider yourself empty just because you lacked the place of a man? Your mother would be so disappointed if she could see you now.

You had grown so tired of these men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close to you, their breaths thick with alcohol. Men who didn't come to the emergency room with you, men who left you alone on Christmas. Men who slammed their bedroom doors, who made you love them then changed their minds. You decided you would no longer let this gender be oppressive, you were a warrior.

“Well someone got in late last night,” your roommate, Sofie, called to you over her morning coffee. You had just made your way down to the kitchen in need of caffeine to help break through your early morning fog.

“Please don’t remind me,” you say to her as you begin searching for a clean mug.

“What? Did you not like this guy? Was he not good in be-”

You cut her off promptly by slamming the cabinet door, yourself being surprised by your own actions you turn to face her.

“I’m sorry I just really don’t feel like talking about it.”

Sofie nods her head in understanding instantly making a pool of guilt form in your stomach from the way you acted. This aggression was a new thing of yours that you had yet to get used to. Rage had begun to take a grip on your life, and on your friendships. You never wanted to be this way. It sickened you to imagine you would have ever become a person to hurt a close friend of yours because you couldn’t contain the fire that you felt inside.

“I’m really sorry Sofie I didn’t mean to snap it’s just-” your words stop as Sofie patiently waits.

“Last night was hard because it made me realize,” you take a big breath, “I am broken.”

“Sweetie you are not broken! You have just been burned, badly might I add, and you are having a hard time coming to terms with it that’s all.”

Is that all? Could Sofie finally have cracked the code that all of this just so happened to stem from one incident? There was no way you could allow this to be true. You were not just a victim who gets to bear her scar for the rest of the world to see. Your story would not end like that.

“No Sofie, you don’t get it, when I say that I am broken I am really not looking for sympathy,” her back straightens at your serious expression. “I just mean that I am giving up on relationships, all kinds of relationships with men, for now.”

“So no more dating?” You shake your head to confirm. “No more hookups?”

“When I say no more. I mean it,” you say with an icy tone.

“I don’t think that is such a bad idea,” Sofie begins. “I think you may just need to take some time before you go out again, learn about yourself, love yourself. Y’know all that shit that Teen Vogue used to tell us.”

You laugh at this, your roommate was a sweet girl, older than you but innocent enough. You envied her star glazed eyes when she talked about love and romance. Her heart was so pure and untainted, you hoped that she would never change, you prayed that she would never know.

“I think you may be right Sof.”

“Right about what?”

In the most perfect of moments Sofie’s boyfriend, Jake, comes down the stairs to join in on your impromptu counseling session. Jake and Sofie were long-time boyfriend and girlfriend since your guys’ days in college. They were each other’s first everything's, love, relationship, they had even lost their virginities to one another. The first day the two of them had met during your study session you could see it happen, the sparks. And throughout the years you were able to watch their love bloom and unfold.

“Oh you know the usual, my life is fucked,” you joke responding to Jake’s question.

“What fucking men with no feelings is finally getting old?” Jake says.

“Ouch, you don’t have to be so harsh,” you respond back to him in which he just shrugs you off.

Sometimes you wondered how a person as blunt as Jake managed to win over the tender-hearted Sofie. Jake reaches above Sofie’s head to grab his own mug for coffee while pressing a kiss to her forehead causing her face to flush with joy. Some couples just couldn’t be scrutinized, Jake and Sofie just worked.

“Hey, you’re still gonna come with us to Dominic’s New Year’s party on Friday, right?” Sofie asks you.

“That depends, will Dom stay far away from me for the entirety of the night?” you respond back.

“Oh come on, he’s really not all that bad!” Sofie says making your eyebrows go up in disbelief. “And if I recall correctly you hooked up with him a couple of months ago so you obviously don’t hate him that much.”

“First off, I was drunk,” you begin to feel yourself getting worked up. “Secondly, my heart was just broken, if you haven’t forgotten, so let’s just say my judgment was a little fucked.”

Sofie takes a long sip of her coffee and avoids eye-contact. You turn your body from her and breathe deeply from your nose in order to regain your composure.

“Okay, ladies let’s take it down a notch,” Jake effectively breaks the tension. “Y/N, I would love it if you came to celebrate with all of us. And I promise I will be keeping Dom busy so you don’t have to worry about him.”

“Fine, I’ve never been one to say no to free drinks anyways,” Sofie perks up at your response and excitedly hugs you causing you to smile.

Your workweek drags on leaving you anxious to get absolutely trashed at the upcoming party. You’ve had enough corporate bullshit to make certain that when Friday came no one would even be able to recognize that you played as a stock manager by day. One last sweep of your ruby red lipstick against your lips and your look is complete. Despite the bitter winter air you opted to show skin tonight in your tight black body-con dress. You knew that this look would attract lots of attention, but you didn’t care. You would relish in the way men would stare at you, and then doing something you have become unfamiliar with, you would deny each and every one of them.

You, Jake, and Sofie all share the same Uber from your apartment to Dominic’s swanky new penthouse. The four of you had all met in college, each of you finding different paths in life yet always keeping in touch. Back then Dominic was a promising young student swiftly on his way to becoming an engineer. Until suddenly he decided to leave school and follow his true passion for cuisine. Now he was one of the most successful restaurant moguls in the city.

His hard work truly paid off, you thought to yourself as the three of you entered his pristine penthouse suite already packed with people ready to celebrate the new year. The ceilings were high and the interior design was entirely bachelor-esque, true to his lavish lifestyle. Waiters attended to people throughout the room holding silver platters of champagne and the occasional finger-food. The scent in the air was lofty with alcohol and the various types of cologne worn by desperate men looking for a lay.

“You guys made it!”

Speak of the devil. Dominic makes his way through the crowd to greet his old friends. The four of you exchange hugs and hello’s but you were more than ready to end the interaction with him as quickly as possible. You look around the room until your eyes land on the small minibar across the living room.

“I need to be drunk,” you yell in Sofie’s ear causing her to giggle and excusing the two of you to the bar being worked by a dashing young bartender. It was a bit of a challenge to remember why exactly you weren’t going to be hooking up with anyone tonight. Until the young Colgate smirk shot you a knowing look. It all came rushing back, you fucking hated men.

Quickly you order a shot for both you and Sofie which she reluctantly agrees to, what a great friend, you think. The burn of tequila crawls its way to your stomach lighting a pleasant fire. You settle on champagne to sip on the rest of the night after taking the beverage from the bartender to promptly end his suffocating stare on you.

“I’m gonna go find Jake, are you okay here?” Sofie asks you.

“Yes of course I’ll be fine as long as the bartender can keep it in his pants.”

Sofie laughs and hits your arm for speaking so loudly, but you truly didn’t care. You begin to move away from the bar towards the floor-to-ceiling windows exposing the city life below. Upon approaching you can’t help but ogle at the beautiful scenery. The life of the city could be seen even from fifty floors up. The hustle and bustle of people eager to celebrate the new year had mesmerized you along with the mass of skyscrapers glittering against the deep purple horizon.

Once you and Sofie had left to find the bar, Jake and Dominic were across the room talking of old times while Dominic showcased his new apartment. Jake could tell that Dominic was proud in the development of his empire, it was obvious in the way he had to mention price tags on every item in his home. Just when Dominic was about to go on and on about a particular piece of art a man whom Jake had not met before interrupts their conversation by placing a hand on Dominic’s shoulder.

“Jaebeom you made it!” Dominic says to the man while pulling him in for a hug. Dominic, as anyone could tell, had a bit too much to drink tonight, hence the sudden affection.

Jaebeom didn’t seem to mind Dominic, perhaps already familiar with this behavior, he pulls back from the brief embrace and gives Dominic a tight smile. Jaebeom had dark hair that was tucked neatly behind each ear. His ears were littered with silver jewelry while his nose also adorned a single stud. His eyes were set deep giving him a mysterious aura.

“Jaebeom this is my good buddy from college Jake,” Dominic introduces the two while both the men shake their hands in a greeting. “Jaebeom is a photographer, he did all the shots for my new restaurant.”

“No kidding, that’s really awesome man,” Jake says trying to make conversation with the stranger.

“Thanks for saying so, I really appreciate it,” Jaebeom says.

A silence fills the space before Dominic asks, “So did Claire come with you tonight?”

Claire, from what Jake had heard, was Dominic’s newest conquest. She was a hostess at one of Dominic’s restaurants and apparently good friends with Jaebeom. Jake found it odd that Dominic could not work up the courage himself to ask out a girl instead of having someone he hired to be his wingman.

“Unfortunately she wasn’t able to swing her shift,” Jaebeom tells Dominic to which he shrugs in an attempt to seem unaffected. Jaebeom then suddenly turns to Jake.

“I’m sorry if this comes off as too forward, but I couldn’t help but notice the girl you came in with earlier.”

Jake laughs, this wouldn’t be the first time that he had to break it to some poor bastard that Sofie was his girlfriend. She was absolutely gorgeous and he knows that his girlfriend Sofie does garner lots of attention. Not that he feels jealous, he just hates having to break it to these dudes that they stand no chance.

“That would be my girlfriend actually,” Jake says.

“Both of them?” Jaebeom raises his eyebrow quizzically causing Jake to facepalm at the way he is handling this interaction.

“Oh no sorry,” Jake searches the room to see Sofie and you leaning against the bar on the other side of the room. “My girlfriend is the one in the white dress over there by the bar.”

Jake points out the two of you and watches Jaebeom’s eyes follow.

“Oh I see, I was actually going to ask you about her friend.”

Jake sputters the champagne he is sipping feeling caught off guard at the question. If Jake remembers correctly you had completely sworn off men not too long ago. Then again, Jaebeom does look like a nice guy and seems genuinely interested in you. As your friend, Jake feels at a standstill with what to do. Although Jake was harsh in words when it came to you, he always had a soft spot for you. And he knows when you put your mind to something, you do not tolerate when people disregard you. But before Jake can say anything, Dominic beats him to the punch.

“Are you kidding? Y/N is practically fucking anyone that even looks her way these days.”

Now Jake remembers just why Dominic and you never got along. He was a complete asshole to you.

“Hey dude come on, don’t say that shit about her,” Jake comes to your defense.

Dominic raises his hands in surrender while wearing that typical shit-eating grin, “I just call it as I see it.”

Jake begins to become increasingly frustrated with the way that his best friend was being talked about, but he is even more afraid of your image being potentially slandered in front of a total stranger. And perhaps a potential match.

“You know better than anyone that she is going through a lot right now. Besides just the other day she said she had absolutely no interest in dating anymore,” Jake internally cringes at himself for potentially scaring Jaebeom away with that last point, but he really couldn’t let Dominic continue to trash you.

“Oh, Jesus don’t give me that. Ever since she got dumped she has been acting like a complete who-”

“Alright I think that’s enough,” surprisingly Jaebeom beats Jake in coming to your defense by putting an end to Dominic’s drunken rant.

While listening to Dominic trash you and Jake attempting to defend you, Jaebeom was continually getting more and more upset. It was bad enough that Dominic has just shown himself to be a terrible friend, but now he was going to stoop as low as calling his friend such a derogatory term?

He thought again about the girl that caught his attention. His eyes were on you the moment you walked through the door. Even with the masses of people in the penthouse, he felt like he was on another world with you, floating distantly away in a turquoise sea. To your beautiful skin, gorgeous locks of hair, and even just the way you carried yourself. Jaebeom had found himself completely enraptured with this complete stranger. And he was not going to let one of your supposed “friends” go on ruining your image.

“It’s not very cool to talk about someone like that when they’re not here to defend themselves. Especially to someone whom they have never even met,” Jaebeom told Dominic with a stern tone.

If Jake was impressed before by this man, his respect for Jaebeom increased even more. If only you were willing to put yourself out there again, he thinks Jaebeom might be a really good change for you. He clearly was a person who stood for what they believed in, and Jake knows how much a person like that could have such a great impact on you.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Jake waves to Jaebeom too stunned to even say anything as he walks off.

“What the hell is his problem?” Dominic starts as Jaebeom leaves, “Does he think that Y/N will blow him with that bullshit Mr. Nice Guy act?”

“You are such a prick, you know that?” Dominic just shrugs off Jake taking a large gulp of his beer.

While roaming throughout the penthouse you would stop occasionally to scope out the room around you. The people, the music, even the drinks were just so mind numbingly dull to you. You thought to yourself either you were truly broken like you thought so earlier that week or you were perhaps just a narcissist. Neither of those options made you feel particularly good about yourself, but if you weren’t going to be the one to say it, who would?

“Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

Over the loud bass of the music somehow you were able to hear the question coming from the man who had just approached you. You turn towards him slightly startled. Only once you turned to the voice you felt your breath leave your lungs. He was handsome, no beyond that, you had seen handsome men before, fucked handsome men, he was something else. There was no word in the English language to describe his looks.

His cheeks were set high on his face along with his straight nose. The dark locks of hair that framed his face rested softly on his moonlit skin. The way he held your eyes with his stare had you almost in a panic until you remembered, you had lost all your patience for men.

Still, there was no harm in just conversing, your drunken state thought.

“I’m going to have to say no to that one,” you reply back honestly while setting your empty champagne glass on a waiter’s tray. Had it not been for the few drinks you had already you would not have even spared this man a second glance, right?

“Can’t say I blame you,” the man says. “I am Jaebeom by the way.”

He flashes you a tender smile with his perfectly straightened teeth, you quickly tell him your own name hoping to God this conversation could die. Your resolve while standing next to Jaebeom was slowly dwindling. You need to leave his side. Continuing this conversation leads to dangerous territory that not you nor your heart was ready for.

“I’m sorry, will you excuse me? I need to find my friends, I haven’t seen them all night,” you inwardly cringe at your lame excuse. Yet Jaebeom seems completely unaffected, holding his arm out to his side to allow your departure. A man that doesn’t get angry when you deprive him of attention, that was new.

Somewhere amongst the sea of people Sofie appears at Jake’s side effectively easing the growing anger Jake felt towards Dominic’s drunken antics.

“What were you two boys talking about,” Sofie says sweetly while looping her arm around Jake. Jake knows that if Sofie were to hear the things Dominic had been saying about her best friend, she would have an absolute fit. So he thought it best she didn’t know.

“Oh you know just guy talk,” Jake says smiling.

“My photographer has the hots for Y/N,” Dominic slurs while it takes everything in Jake not to strangle his friend.

“Your photographer? Who is that? I want to see what he looks like,” Sofie replies sounding interested, to which Dominic scans the room before landing his finger on Jaebeom talking with some other guests.

“What really? He is so perfect I have to go tell her,” Sofie tries to walk away until Jake pulls her back.

“Okay first of all, ouch, I am your boyfriend. How can you say a guy is perfect while I’m right here?” Sofie rolls her eyes but let’s Jake continue. “Secondly, wasn’t it just a couple days ago that she mentioned never wanting to date again?”

“Oh come on you know she doesn’t mean that, and besides that guy is so her type. The second she sees him she will forget her hatred of men altogether,” Sofie says.

Jake sighs but lets Sofie go over and tell you about your secret admirer. He didn't appreciate the way people took your words so lightly. Was he the only one listening to you for the past couple months to know that you needed time to heal? Then again Sofie was your closest friend and perhaps she knew what was best for you.

“Okay you are never going to believe this,” Sofie approaches you from behind as you finish off your third glass of champagne.

“Tell me quickly I can feel the alcohol beginning to fog my brain.”

“Literally the hottest guy here asked Jake and Dom about you, they say he is interested in you!”

Through your slightly buzzed state you can still feel the burst of annoyance come over you. You have to breathe deeply through your nose in order to not completely go off on your sweet enthusiastic friend. Did your words a couple days ago mean nothing to her?

“Sofie, like I told you, I am not at all interested,” you tell her causing her excitement to dwindle. “So you can pass along that message to this mystery man too.”

“Oh come on! At least let me show you who it is, you will just die,” Sofie says causing your eyes to roll.

You decide to play along, “Fine show me.”

Sofie excitedly turns both your bodies to the crowd of people, she scans for a minute until she finds the said man, excitedly pointing him out to you. Jaebeom was in the middle of a conversation. The man who was interested in you was him? The guy you completely blew off just moments ago?

You could feel yourself start to become overwhelmed. First when you started to talk to Jaebeom you began to have these feelings that you had never felt before. The fact that you couldn’t identify them frustrated you and made you want to leave this party. Now come to find out the whole reason he approached you was because he was interested? For reasons unexplained you began to feel the anger turn in your stomach again.

Who did this guy think he was? Was he just someone who felt he was so charming that just a simple greeting would have you spreading your legs for him? You felt so angry with yourself for even faltering for a moment on the resolution you made with yourself. This just proved your theory that all men want the same things from you. How could you be so stupid to think differently? Your head was turning into a swirl of red, clouding your judgement, perhaps the cheap booze was stronger than you anticipated.

It wasn’t until Jaebeom turned his body towards you, locking his eyes on yours. You expected to see the smirk, the smirk that all the men wear on their faces when they just want their dick wet. Instead, he smiled. Not a forced smile, it was genuine, you could feel the warmth of it from across the room. His smile had you faltering. You’ve been with so many men these past few months that you thought you had them all figured out. So why was he so unpredictable?

For this, the rage overcame you.

With all your might you are able to look away from him and down at the floor. Your chest felt tight, all the air around you had been sucked away as you struggled to get a grip on where you were. Breathing exercises were not going to help you at this point.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sofie looks down at your shaken figure.

“No, I’m not, I think I’m going to leave. I really don’t feel well,” you say as you begin to make your way through people not wanting to let anyone submit to your anger.

Sofie grabs your arm, “It’s almost midnight you can’t leave now!”

“Sofie please, I am being very serious right now. Let me go,” your tone is icy as Sofie draws her hand back in fear.

Taking the opportunity you start your journey towards the exit needing so desperately to get out of the sea of people. Your chest began to heave as you felt the world closing in on you. Tears prodded in your eyes as you clenched your fists. The crowd was suffocating, you felt like you were about to burst, until finally you made your way to the door. You hurried down the hallway to the elevator practically throwing a punch at the call button.

Jaebeom was across the room when he had seen the entire exchange. He noticed your change in expression and then proceeded to watch you suddenly turn to leave the party. Jaebeom had a hard time understanding why, but he felt worried for you. Suddenly he begins to weave in and out of the drunken mass as the countdown from ten begins to be shouted out. He sees only a glimpse of you as you finally slip your way out the front door.

He reaches the door, opening it to find there is no one in the hall, he looks down and sees the elevator doors slowly closing with you inside. He tries to make a run for it, what will he even say when he reaches you? He doesn’t care at this moment, all Jaebeom knows is that he doesn't want you to be alone.

Running fast towards the titanium doors you look up and catch his eye. Tears can be seen falling down your flushed cheeks. Your eyes were wild and bright as you stared through Jaebeom, making his steps come to a halt. He was shaken by the look in your eyes, so much so that he lets the elevator doors stop him from reaching you.

FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE, HAPPY NEW YEAR!

He hears the party happening behind him. The cheering and laughing as people celebrate with their friends and loved ones. Yet the noise is completely drawn out as Jaebeom thinks of you.

This girl he had only just met, yet he longed for so desperately so.

#got7 fanfic #jaebeom fanfic #got7 smut #jaebeom smut #Im Jaebeom #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #fanfic #got7 #jb smut #got7 jb #jb fanfic

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years

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Hey, everyone! I’ve been saying for a bit I want to get some fics from prompts I’ve written onto AO3 but...it’s so hard...ok it’s not hard, Executive Dysfunction is just kicking my butt. I’m going to post some of them to Tumblr today. If you want to help these babies get on AO3, they need: titles, tags, you pestering me in the comments. If you don’t think they’re good enough for AO3 - fair enough, just hit the little heart if they make you smile!

Prompt: Aziraphale reading to Crowley

(Requested by @zadusk and @lyricwritesprose)

“Sorry, can’t help you,” the innkeeper said, “just rented out our last room.”

“What?” Crowley crossed his arms, huffing through his nose. This was Bethlehem all over again. “This town is in the middle of nowhere, it has three inns, how can they all be sold out?”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” The innkeeper shut the ledger. “Everyone’s headed down to London, and we’re on the way. Now. I can offer you a hot meal, and for, let’s say, half the price of a room you can sleep in the stables. The hay loft is clean, apart from the mice—”

“Stablesss!” Crowley hissed, slapping his hand on the counter. “Do I look like someone who sleeps in stables?”

The innkeeper didn’t appear remotely impressed. “You look like someone who is going to be sleeping in a hedge. Looks like a storm tonight. Good evening.” And he spun away, calling out to the cook in the back room.

“Oi!” Crowley shouted. “Get back here, you—!”

“Crowley! Whatever are you doing here?” The familiar voice was half delighted, half scolding. Aziraphale appeared beside him, same white suit as the last time they’d met, top hat tucked under his arm. “I thought I made it clear we shouldn’t see each other so often. Since I opened the shop, it’s been—”

“Yes, I know.” Crowley waved a hand and turned away. “I’m not here for you, Angel, I have actual business in York.”

“Really?” Despite his words, Aziraphale trailed behind him. “How interesting. I’m just returning from York – oh, no, you don’t think they’ve sent you to undo all my work again, do you?”

Crowley snorted. “No bet.” He dropped his voice into a low whisper. “This is why we need to meet up more often. Look at all this time we’re wasting! And now I have to march through the bloody night in the rain because there’s no place to sleep—”

“Oh! Well, I wouldn’t dream of it. You can share my room.”

“Ngk?!” Crowley’s brain crashed into his skull with all the speed and grace of a train wreck. “Mf. Yk. No I can’t – Aziraphale!”

“Oh, my word – obviously, I’m not planning – that!” His voice dropped even lower and he tugged on Crowley’s elbow. “Don’t be crude, dear fellow. I have a room with a bed that I’m not intending to use. You can have it. I just need a chair to sit in while I read.”

“Jgk.” Crowley turned away, taking a deep breath through his nose. It made sense. He could sleep. Aziraphale could read. No getting soaked, or lost in the dark, or needing to fight off highwaymen or anything of the sort. “Fffine. We can. Er. Do that.”

“Jolly good.” He could practically hear the angel straightening his waistcoat. “Now that’s settled. I’ve already had my supper and was about to head up. Unless you’re hungry—”

“No, no, now is fine.” He still couldn’t quite meet Aziraphale’s eyes. “Lead the way.”

The room, it turned out, was nearly as advertised.

A double-sized bed with a straw-tick and a quilt. A little stand with a pitcher of water and bowl for washing up. Windows that could be tightly shuttered to block out some of the city noise.

The only thing missing, really, was the chair.

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s fingers tapped on his book and he glanced around, as if a seat might be hiding in the corner. “Well, er…”

“It’s fine. I can leave.” Crowley turned on his heel and reached for the latch.

“Absolutely not! I won’t hear of it. You get settled and I’ll – ah – I’ll miracle in a chair.” He peered around the narrow room. “Somewhere.”

“Look, I can—”

“No. Miracle yourself a nightgown or whatever it is you need.”

“I—”

“Hush!”

Resigning himself, Crowley waved his clothes into something more comfortable for sleeping and crawled under the blanket. It was…slightly better than sleeping in the stables, he supposed. The straw was lumpy and the sheet covering it coarse, but the pillow was well-stuffed with goose-down, a luxury he could get used to. He shifted onto his back, trying to find a comfortable angle.

Instead, he found Aziraphale, standing beside the bed, staring blankly at the wall. “There…well…it would appear there isn’t room for a chair,” he confessed. “Not one that will fit my, er…my current corporation comfortably, that is.”

Crowley looked at the ceiling. He could sleep up there, but it would mean abandoning the pillow. Or. Or.

“Look, Angel,” he said as casually as he could. You can, um, you can sit on the bed. I’m not going to be offended or anything. It’s fine.”

“No, I couldn’t – couldn’t possibly—”

“Aziraphale. It’s really fine.”

The quilt tugged, folded back, and with a rustle of straw Aziraphale settled into the mattress. He sat straight, stiff, and so close to the edge he might topple off.

Even so, he was alarmingly close.

“You, um. You need the candle?”

“No, my own light will be sufficient, thank you.”

“Yeah. Obviously.” Crowley tossed his glasses onto the little table and waved a finger at the candle, which immediately snuffed out, leaving the room dark except for the soft glow of Aziraphale, gently illuminating his book.

Crowley closed his eyes and prepared to fall asleep.

He turned onto one side. No good, too close to the edge.

He turned the other way, or started to, freezing when he felt how close the angel’s warmth was.

Then he lay on his back again. The whole room fell very, very still.

“Bless it, Aziraphale, will you relax?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I can practically hear your muscles creaking. How am I supposed to all asleep with all that – that tension barely six inches away!”

“I don’t know what you might be referring to. I am – am perfectly relaxed here, reading my book and you – you interrupt with these – these pointless accusations.”

Crowley gave up and turned on his side, facing Aziraphale, giving him as hard a stare as he could manage. “Your book is upside down, Angel.”

“Is it?” He swallowed. “I mean, of course it is. I am training myself to read upside-down text, a highly useful skill, which I’m sure—”

Crowley shut his eyes. “This was a terrible idea.” He sat up, swinging his legs off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Look, Aziraphale, neither of us is actually comfortable with this. So I’m just going to head out. If I leave now, I might make it to the next town before the rain starts, and maybe they’ll have a room. You can have this one and—”

“Crowley,” he said, voice much softer than expected. “My dear fellow. I won’t be able to relax knowing you’re out there. I know you won’t be in – in any real danger but…I would rather know that you’re safe.”

He stared ahead, sitting perfectly still in the way that only beings who aren’t really alive can – no breath, no heartbeat, no tiny motions.

Then, slowly, Crowley pulled his legs back under the quilt and lay on his back.

“What’s this book about, anyway?” he asked.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

“It’ll help. Trust me. What is it – poetry? Ancient epics about glorious wars? Not Hamlet again, I hope, that play is a gloomy mess of—”

“No, nothing of the sort. It’s…well, it’s a sort of love story.”

That didn’t sound too bad. “Sort of?”

“Well, yes, it’s more a – a study of the manners and traditions of courtship. Our heroine is the second of five sisters, and there’s a great deal riding on finding them suitable husbands, but her choices are, well…not especially appealing.”

“Does she tell them to go jump in a lake?”

“Not in so many words,” Aziraphale said disapprovingly. “But yes, she has so far turned down two proposals quite bitingly. Although I think she was a bit hasty in her judgement of one of the young men.”

“I like it.” Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale, and found the angel had relaxed, and moved just a little closer. “What’s it called, anyway?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” His fingers tapped against it. “Just released last year. I must try and find the author’s other work when I finish.”

“Well, you’ll have to tell me how it ends.”

“Oh, are you…interested?”

“Hmm,” Crowley settled his head a little further into the pillow. “I do like a good drawing room drama. Perhaps I should pick out a few dresses and spend a year or two back in those circles.”

“As I recall, you were always deceitful and wicked and caused many a scandal.”

“I should hope so. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

Aziraphale smiled down at him, and it made Crowley feel light-headed in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. “Then I imagine you’ll be brilliant at it.” He suddenly turned away, looking at the shuttered window. “Oh! Do you hear that? The rain has started.” The first drops were tapping against the shutters fitfully.

“Good thing I didn’t go out.”

“Yes.” Aziraphale looked at the book again. “Er, would you like me to…to read it to you? Just the first part, until you fall asleep.”

“I…” Crowley cleared his throat. “Yeah. I mean, your voice puts me to sleep half the time anyway, so…”

“Oh, yes, absolutely wonderful. Let me just get the first volume.” He hopped out of bed and hurried over to his jacket, rummaging in the pocket to pull out another hardcover book. When he returned to the bed, it was with almost no self-consciousness, wriggling comfortably against his pillow only a few inches away from Crowley.

“Now, let’s see…yes, here. ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife…’”

It was strange, seeing the angel from this angle, round face slightly lit by his own glow, little smile curving up his lips as the words bubbled out excitedly. His voice rose and fell as he read, trying to paint a picture of Longbourne and Netherfield and the lives of the Bennet sisters. Crowley could get used to it, the look, the sound, the soft familiarity of it all. Not that he was likely to have an opportunity.

He didn’t close his eyes. Not yet.

“‘But I can assure you,’ she added,” Aziraphale was quite enjoying the voice he had chosen for Mrs. Bennet, raising it now in slightly erratic excitement. “‘that Lizzy does not lose much by not suiting his fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing.’” He shifted again, raising his arm to better articulate the dialogue. “‘So high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to dance with!’” He dropped his voice into a vicious hiss. “‘I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your set downs. I quite detest the man.’”

He glanced to his left, grinning, hoping to see Crowley’s reaction to his bit of acting, but the demon had at some point fallen asleep. He lay half on his back, still facing Aziraphale, shock of red hair across the white pillow. His mouth hung slightly open and something emerged that was almost a snore, but rather too small to really qualify. It was drowned out by the wind and rain outside, rattling the shutters. Now and then, in the distance, thunder rumbled.

“Well. I suppose…yes, you sleep now.” Aziraphale turned to put the book down, thinking to find the second volume and pick up where he’d left off.

“Nf.” Crowley turned onto his side, one arm flinging out towards Aziraphale’s waist. “D’n stp,” he mumbled. “Jus’ gettn gud.”

“Er, are you…awake?” The arm tightened slightly, and Crowley pulled closer, pressing himself against Aziraphale’s side. “Crowley, er, dear…you’re…”

“M’fine.” He sighed, not seeming aware of the world at all. “S’nice.”

For a long moment, Aziraphale stared at the demon who had – had invaded his space. Had settled against him in a most – most awkward and undignified way.

Well. There was really only one thing to do.

Aziraphale slid a little lower against the pillow, until he’d surrounded Crowley in the crook of his arm. “Is that better, dear?”

“St’ry.” But he settled into that space between Aziraphale’s side and his arm with a content sigh, arm now draped across the angel’s chest.

Oh, dear. This is not going to be easy to explain when he wakes up. But that wouldn’t be for several hours, at least, and right now, there was a very small smile on Crowley’s lips.

“Well. Chapter four. ‘When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister how very much she admired him…’”

Thanks for reading! Pride and Prejudice was initially published in three volumes, in 1813, attributed simply to “The Author of Sense and Sensibility.” I have no idea what was going on in York in 1814 - I mostly needed someplace they could walk to but would take several days - so feel free to attribute whatever historical events you can think of to these dummies!

#good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #aziraphale and crowley #there's only one bed #aziraphale and his books #sleepy cuddles #sleepy snusband #short and sweet #fluff #good omens fluff #my writing #writing prompt #good omens prompts

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rebelcap · 3 years

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We are not just friends — Part 19

Chris Evans x bi!latina!character (Sofia is a people of color, she’s brown.)

Chris and Sofia meet when their best friends started dating, it all started at friends with loads of bumps on the road.

Warnings: drinking, smoking, drug use (weed), assault, Chris being Steve Rogers, commitment issues, my girl Sofia kinda messy.

This is slow burn at its best, at least emotionally.

Series masterlist

Sofía had definitely closed up, she became a recluse in her own apartment and the only thing she did was go to work and back. She felt mostly okay, she wasn't crying her eyes out or seeing a random photo of Chris and crying.

She was hurt, deeply hurt but all she did was avoid thinking about him. This wasn't like the first time they broke up, this felt different. Like, this was it.

She loses one of her most precious friends and gains another failed relationship, another ex that probably will end up resenting her because they couldn't reach her and when she opens up she gets shot down.

After Chris…

Sofia was sure that she was meant to be alone and she was mostly okay with it.

On the other hand, Christopher was devastated—he honestly thought she was the one, he felt it in his gut, his heart, his whole being made him feel that she was the one. She just kept pushing him away in all the ways that she could find and he took it, until he couldn't anymore and that alone made him feel like he was failing her, he didn't know how to help her and she won't let him.

They were so far away from each other—it was exhausting and the fact that he had just started talking with Jenny again made him feel insecure about his relationship.

But he love her with all his fucking heart that it hurt his whole body knowing that she might ever be able to love him back the way he does.

"I miss him," Sofia said, putting her eyeliner on. She was going out as Amanda was very pregnant to even move.

"He does too." She said rubbing her belly. "It's been, how much time now?,"

"Four months , so he's dating Jenny. That's what I heard…" Sofia tried not to get emotional about it but… Fuck.

"Yeah, Luke told me about it… but it's going anywhere and he knows. Not sure about her though."

"He always gets back with all his exes. Got us on rotation, fucking idiot. He wants to commit but he can't actually commit with anyone. Then in the one with commitment issues," Sofia shook her head and let out a groan. "I love him, I swear to you I love him, he's a good friend but he's a terrible boyfriend."

"Right back at you," Amanda laughed and Sofia had to, because she was absolutely right about her too.

"I don't go back with all my exes, though"

"Mostly don't, Chris it's the exception."

"Because I thought it was going to be okay for once." She made a face and began putting the make up back on her little make up bag. "I can't believe he's back with Jenny, she's funny and intelligent and great—but God, I don't fucking like her." Sofia said, throwing the make-up bag on her bag and pout. "I don't want to go out now. More because I know he's here in Boston and it's not leaving until next year and I'm seeing his brother today."

"You don't wanna run into him?,"

"Of course I wanna run into him, I miss him so much but I'm totally not over him yet." Sofia explained sitting on the toilet seat looking at Amanda that was leaning in the door frame. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be over Chris."

"I'm sad now, you're make me feel sad and my boy too—

"I'm sorry—

"Don't be, I'm feeling sad because I can't go out with you and drag Chris's name all over Boston even though he's great but he left you."

Sofia smiled looking down and felt Amanda's hand running through her hair and she sighed deeply.

Sofía was vibing or at least trying, the place was comfy and she knew almost all the people that were there—witch where all of fucking Christopher closest friends and some random girls that the guys bring from somewhere.

Apparently he wasn't coming, which Sofia didn't know if she was actually relieved or not.

"Jesus fucking christ." She murmured to herself tried of her own fucking mind noise. She stood up and walked to the little bar area and started pouring a drink, straight whiskey and downed it all and poured herself a second and then a third walking away with the drink on her hand.

He saw her first, saw her leaning on a wall, talking with some dude —younger than her, brunette and with a fucking man bun, he was built, lean and tall. She laughed, at whatever fucking thing he said she laughed and looked at him with the little fucking straw on her lips. Oh, boy he was mad.

Chris rubbed his face and went about to hang up with his friends and mingle a little bit. But he couldn't stop looking at their direction every fucking second.

"They sure look cozy," Luke said and Chris looked at him. "Did you talk to her yet?"

"I can't talk to her, man." Chris muttered and downed the warm beer on his hand and his friend handed him another. "What I'm supposed to say?, hey, long time remember when I dump you because I'm a fucking imbecile and i cant fucking wait." He said dropping sarcasm on every word.

"That's a good opening," Luke laughed and Chris just stared at him, murdering eyes directed at his very own best friend.

"Who the fuck is that?" he asked referring to the guy she was talking with.

"A friend of Ryan's cousin."

Chris made a face and rolled his eyes. "The fuck he doing here?"

"It's Ryan's house, dude," Luke said and was a little amazed at Chris, he definitely hasn't seen him like this in a really long long time. "Man. .." Luke said, kind of amazed. "You're still head over heels in love with her, don't you?"

"I wonder what gave it away," Chris said, drinking his beer and rubbing his face. "imma talk to her,"

"Ah—don't think it's-uh," Luke was looking at them and saw them share a kiss, it was quick and he kinda went for it.

"What?," Chris said turning around and saw them just breaking the kiss and that's the moment Sofia saw him.

And her stomach dropped, her whole ass body dropped—

"Oh, woow. Are you okay?," Alex, asked her when her knees buckled and he caught her.

"Ah, yeah, yes. Just," She smiled at him and looked at her empty glass. "Little drunk, imma get more—" Sofia made an attempt to leave but Alex, bless his fucking kind heart, offered her to get her those drinks and something to eat.

As soon he leaves that was a cue to Chris, who literally strutted to the wall she was leaning and Slfia just… started.

"Hi," He said, hands on his pockets as Sofia kept looking at him. "How-how are you?"

Sofoa kept quiet and simply walked away from him, ahe couldn't possibly do the whole small talk bullshit they alwaus did and it emeded up al fucking badly. Chris looked at her go and he was the one that stormed after her.

"Sofia, come on," Chris said and walked besides her. "Sof, it's going to be like this?"

"I can't talk with you Chris, like…" She sighed and sat down on a bench, they weren't completely away from the people and there were some girls sitting on a couch messing around with their phones and minding their business.

"Why not?," He asked, looking at her. He just wanted to reach out and hug her, he missed her.

Sofía finally looked up at him and asked him, "How's things with Jenny?," Chris looked away and rubbed his beard and stayed quiet at her question for a moment.

"We're not together anymore," He said and Sofia made a face and sigh. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you seeing someone?" He asked looking at the bar where the dude was talking with Ryan, probably giving him the talk.

"Look, Sofia is off limits."

"What?, why? She told me she's single." Alex asked and looked back at where she was supposed to be and found Chris looking back at him with that death stare he did when he was annoyed.

"Yes, she is. But it's also Chris ex and they still didn't figure it out and he's my friend, so kid. Off limits,"

"Do you care,?" She asked, sassy.

"If I didn't I wouldn't be asking, wouldn't I?," He asked right back at her, also sassy.

"Last time I tried that, it didn't go well," Sofia said, rolling her eyes at him. "And the one before that, worse." She said at their obvious relationship and Chris just grunted. But couldn't blame her, it was a mess…

"Yeah," He murmured and dug into his pockets and fished out a packet of cigarettes. "want one?" He offered her and she took it.

"Thanks, we should smoke outside though." Sofia said walking out to the backyard where the other guys were doing the grilling.

They waved at them but kept their distance, not Scott though because it was Scott.

"So…" He said walking up to them and putting a hand on each shoulder. "You two are actually talking,"

"Not really," Sofia rolled her eyes and Chris grunted again.

"Sof," He said, putting those little blue eyes to work on him and it worked, of course it will work.

"Okay, okay…" She agreed and lit up the cigarette giving Chris a look. Thinking that the moment she found him unattractive was when she stopped looking at men all together and dedicated herself to pussy forever.

He was so fucking attractive, jesus fuck.

"Either way, is there a point here?," She asked looking at both of them. "We're good, I guess," She shrugged.

"Are we really good?," Chris asked.

"I don't know, you left me." Sofia took a drag and Scott made a face.

"And that's my cue to leave, I love you both." He said and Sofia laughed.

"And I do too." She wink at him and Chris was staring at her, waiting for Scott to leave.

"I shouldn't have done that—

"Chris, don't." She waves a hand at him. "You seriously need a new woman on your life, this thing about getting back with all your exes ia getting old as fuck."

"Ouch," He said and actually smile and so did she. "I do miss you, you know that."

"I miss you too, come on. We were really good friends for a moment there,"

"Yeah," He smiled and bit his bottom lip, shaking his head. "We fucked up, don't we?"

"Yeah, and I told you so."

"You did. Guess I didn't listen,"

"You never listen, stubborn Gemini man." She said punching him on the arm.

"Yeah, you're right but I don't regret it though."

"Me neither," She smiled and sigh, just thinking for a moment. "So, there's a wedding coming?"

"You mean ours?," He joked and Sofia barked a laugh.

"I mean our better halves, idiot. Besides, we will be divorced in the first four months."

"What?, come on I gave us at least… a year," Chris saif and Sofia made a face, disagreeing.

"Six months, tops." She said and put her hand on his month. "The thought of me being a wife, ew."

Chris laughed out loud. "You look pretty in white,"

"I look pretty in everything because I'm pretty," She rolled her eyes with a smile. "But, jokes aside. Do you see yourself married?"

"I like the idea of marriage but… Honestly, I don't know."

"I preferred to have a kid before marriage, it's just a fucking paper in the end. You can divorce, I think I'll know when I have a kid, if I have a kid."

"We never had this talk before," Chris said and pointed at a little bench for them to sit. "About us,"

"Did you think about it?" Sofia asked as she sat down beside him. Chris was holding his beer between his legs and looking forward.

"Yeah, I mean…" He looked at her. "I have never been this in love with someone like I am with you, so yeah. I did, a couple of times actually."

Sofia was dumbfounded at what he said, and she did toyed with the idea a couple of times…

"I almost propose to you, actually…" He laughed and Sofias head snapped so hard to look at him. "After you met my mom, I bought that ring you liked. I thought that maybe someday…" He shrugged and Sofia's eyes watered up and just stared forward.

"Chris, I…" She whispered and he looked at her.

"What's wrong?," He asked, frowning.

"What's wrong!?," She said, wiping her tears. "Dude, are you hearing what you are saying to me?."

Chris realized it at that moment, what he did. Bomb after bomb he just dropped on her.

"Sorry, I got carried away." He muttered slouching on the bench and drank the rest of his beer.

"You'll find someone, Chris…" Sofia said in a small voice.

"Already found her," He muttered and stood up and walked away.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x latina!#chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x you #chris evans angst #Chris Evans x reader #chris evans imagine

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littledrummeraussie · 4 years

Text

Ashton has a bad day.

all the things we dream about series | series masterlist / masterlist.

Word count: 3200+ Warnings: poly!Cashton (this part focusing on Ashton). bit of a jealous!Ashton. blowjobs. shower sex. comfort & fluff. Author’s note: Kinda forgot I had this one at the ready. Thank @mymindwide for this one as she is definitely the brain behind this scene. ❤️ A bit of pick-me-up sex for Ashton after he has a sucky day. Also, we love Cashton cuddles.

Feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

Ashton had the worst Friday of his life, and no, he wasn’t exaggerating. It should have been like any other Friday; hell, it should have been like any other day of the week. But no, this Friday needed to suck, making him feel like it will never end. First his car didn’t start and he needed to borrow Calum’s, and the car service could only give him a date for God knows when to fix his. Then he found out that his new cymbals will be late (again), that he forgot to buy half the things on their grocery list and needed to go back for another round, and if that wasn’t enough, he spilt his coffee all over his jeans – at least they were black, thanks God.

His day was full of frustrating little problems, making it impossible to focus on the good stuff, and even his head started hurting, and really, he needed to get home as soon as possible, lock himself inside with his lovers and their dog, cuddle up on the couch in their embrace, and rant about his horrible day, and get a few comforting kisses from them to soothe his troubled mind. This was the only thing on his mind as he parked Calum’s car in the garage, picking up the bags full of food to make his way inside. Duke was napping on the couch, only opening his eyes when Ash closed the door, and even then he did not give him much attention.

”Hey, I’m home,” he called out, but no answer came.

This was strange – Calum and Y/N always sent him a quick text or called him if both of them needed to leave the house on short notice, or at least one of them would acknowledge him if they were busy with work. As he put down the groceries on the counter he caught sight of a half-prepared meal still waiting to be finished, and he felt the knot in his stomach twist unpleasantly. Surely they weren’t… The only thing he wanted was to have a little down time with his girlfriend, and he didn’t even mind if Calum joined as well, as long as they helped him work his frustration out. But he already had a feeling what happened while he was away running errands.

He slowly made his way upstairs, already preparing himself for the sight that will wait for him. And surely, as soon as he peeked inside the bedroom he found a naked Calum curled up against their girl, his head resting in her lap as he peacefully slept, a torn condom wrapper on his bedside table. Y/N was sitting up against the pillows, her body wrapped in Calum’s t-shirt (the one he wore when Ashton left in the morning), fingers running through the other man’s blond hair, typing something on her phone. The scene was nothing new, he walked in on them more times than he could count, but today it just left a bad taste in his mouth.

Ash was hoping for a quick fuck and then some cuddles after his sucky day – hell, even a blowjob could have been enough, just to feel like someone cared about him enough to try and make him feel better. But Calum couldn’t keep it in his pants just this once, fucking their girl while he was out, while they should have been making dinner, and now surely everyone was tired and done. The difference was that they’ve got their satisfaction from each other, and he was left with his frustration and probably his own hand.

”I’m– I’m home,” he quietly called into the room, not even looking at the other two as he turned around and made his way downstairs.

A shower would probably do wonders for his bad mood, Ashton thought, as he bypassed the discarded clothes all over the floor. They couldn’t even wait until they’ve got to the bedroom. He felt ill as jealousy crawled all over him, making his skin itch, his stomach sick, his mind clouded. He threw his jacket on the couch, kicking off his shoes, already pulling off his shirt and jeans as he ran into the bathroom, wanting to wash off the day and all his feelings, make them disappear down the drain. He wanted to use their en-suite with his favourite body wash and the girl’s perfume that always made the air smell sweet and the fluffy towels Calum stole from their hotel room in London. But they looked peaceful, cuddled up in bed after their time together, and he just couldn’t take those few steps into their bathroom, not without raising questions.

He pushed his forehead against the cold tiles, the hot water washing over his back as he breathed through his nose, trying to calm his hammering heart. The sick feeling and the knot in his stomach started to ease, his pounding headache slowly disappearing. It was only then that he realized that two arms were wrapped around his middle as soft lips pressed kisses against the side of his neck and over his condor tattoo, making him slightly shiver. He rested his hands over the other’s, letting them lace their fingers together on his stomach and squeezing them. Ash took a deep breath, exhaling all the tension he felt in his body. He was safe. He was loved. He wasn’t alone.

”Bad day?” a light voice asked, kissing against his shoulder blade, and he just nodded.

”Worst in a while…”

* * * * *

Calum was horny, and there was no way you could say no to him as he pushed his hips against your ass, trying to sweet talk you into abandoning the dinner preparation and instead have a quickie before finishing your cooking and setting the table for three, waiting for Ashton to come back home. You made him work for it as he cupped your breasts and tried to distract you from the veggies sitting on the counter, but then you needed to give up and let him have his way with you. You were already half-naked as you arrived at the bottom of the stairs where he picked you up, not letting you go until you were under him on the bed, his lips and tongue working you towards your first orgasm.

He was frantic and ravenous; his pace quick as he chased both of you towards your release, his weight pushing you into the mattress as you both finally came, enjoying how you slowly came down from your highs. After that he turned all cuddly and sweet, giggling as he pulled you to his side for kisses, picking up his shirt from the floor and pulling it on you, making a comment about how maybe Ash would love to fuck you in it as well. Cal pushed his face against your thigh, peppering soft kisses on your skin as he snuggled closer, slowly falling asleep in your lap. You ran your fingers through his hair, picking up your phone to check if Ashton was on his way home when you heard a small, quiet voice from the doorway.

”I’m– I’m home.”

Before you could register what was happening, Ashton was already gone, boots thumping down the stairs. Something must have been up with him – he always made sure to greet the both of you with a kiss whenever he left the house or arrived back home. It was something all of you did, you never missed hello-goodbye kisses as he liked to call them. You leaned down, pressing a kiss against Calum’s temple, and he hummed a little.

”Cal, baby, I need you to lift your head up.”

”But I’m comfy,” he mumbled in his sleep, pushing closer to you.

”I know, love, but Ash just came home,” you lightly scratched your nails against his scalp.

Calum turned onto his other side, snuggling against his pillow, and you pulled the blankets over his back before getting out of bed. You could already hear the shower going downstairs, so you picked up a pair of sweatpants for Ashton from his closet, knowing he will need them when he was done. As you made your way downstairs you started picking up the clothes you have left all over the place, intending to sort them later and throw them in the hamper – and then it hit you.

Maybe this was part of the reason why Ashton acted like this. He wasn’t a jealous person – well, not with Calum anyway. But a relationship between three people sometimes meant that one of you gets left out. And even though it wasn’t something that particularly mattered to Ash, sometimes you just needed an extra amount of love and comfort after a long day, and he must have felt like he did not deserve it. No wonder he stormed out of the room without any other explanation.

With his pants still in your hand you went to the bathroom, pushing in the door, and found Ashton leaning against the wall, hot water running all over him, fogging up the glass. You put down his clothes on the counter, pulling off Calum’s shirt as well to put it next to it, and then stepped inside. You slowly wrapped your arms around his body, pressing your lips to his neck, making your way to his tattoo to kiss that as well, and you could feel him relax against you. He pulled his hands back to lace your fingers together, and you squeezed them, letting him know you were there with him.

”Bad day?” you asked, lips against his back, pressing a kiss on his skin.

”Worst in a while,” he sighed, shoulders sagging.

”Hmm,” you hummed a little, pushing up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. ”I think we can help with that.”

Before Ashton could say anything you already slipped in front of him, kissing the skin of his throat, nuzzling over his collarbones, fingers lightly teasing over his sides. You could see a small spark flash in his eyes as you brushed against his nipples, giving quick licks to them as he swallowed down a moan. Your lips slowly slid over his chest, his stomach, kissing just under his navel where you knew he was sensitive, and the next time he opened his eyes you were already down on your knees. You softly scratched your nails over his legs, teasing them over the inside of his thighs, then wrapped your fingers around his hardening cock.

”You don’t have to do this,” Ash ran his fingers through your hair, voice soft, but you could hear that raw, raspy undertone that meant he was extremely turned on.

”Not even if I… want to?” you blinked up at him, slowly licking the tip.

”Fuck, Y/N,” he grabbed onto your hair a bit more, trying to keep his hips still.

”Or I could stop, if that’s what you want,” licking over his tip again you let his cock rest against your bottom lip.

”No, no, fuck no. Don’t stop,” Ashton whimpered as you pulled back, and you chuckled as he tried to push you back to take his cock in your mouth.

”Didn’t plan on it.”

Ash finally let out the moan he’s been holding back as you let his length slide into your mouth, lightly sucking on it. You could feel his tension easing as he slowly started moving his hips, his hands gently guiding your head as you teased him with your tongue, wrapping your lips around the head whenever he was close to pull out. He turned into a babbling mess as you licked and sucked him, tasting his pre-cum on your tongue as his body shivered. Then you felt his fingers lightly push you back until you were looking up at him, your hand taking over your mouth as you stroked him up and down. Ash swallowed around his words, his voice hoarse as he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip.

”Can I fuck you?”

It was rare for them to ask this from you – you’ve been together for so long that they knew just from the flash of your eyes or the pull of your lips if you were ready for some sweet loving, or if you wanted to have some quiet time instead. But this was different. Ashton knew that Calum had you not even 30 minutes ago, and that it might be too much for you. You smiled at him as you stood up, brushing your lips against his in a kiss.

”Take me as you wish.”

Ashton pressed his lips back against yours in another kiss, then grabbed your hips to turn you around, pushing you up against the wall. His lips were on your neck as his hand slid between your legs, teasing his fingers over your pussy lips. You moaned as he slipped two fingers inside, and growled in your ear as he felt how wet you were.

”I feel Cal stretched you out,” he bit your ear as he slowly fingered you, his thumb rubbing against your clit. ”Is this wetness all for him?”

”No, Ash,” you whined as he slipped his cock between your thighs, nudging the tip against your entrance. ”It’s for you… it’s all for you.”

”It better be,” he kissed into your ear as he pushed inside, both of you moaning as he bottomed out.

Ash wrapped his arms around you as he started fucking you, his cock dragging against the sensitive spot inside you, making your thighs shake. You both knew it will be quick and won’t last too long – he was already worked up, and you were still a little sore from Calum. But he needed this, he needed to feel like he was loved and cared for, that his needs were important for all of you, that you all took his bad moods seriously.

Ashton’s body started trembling, his pace getting quicker, his moans getting higher and more breathy. His fingers against your clit pushed you through the edge and you came with his name on your lips. He pushed his face against your neck, his words slurred as he tried to hold back his own pleasure.

”It’s okay, do it. Cum, baby. Cum for me,” you squeezed around his cock one last time as he slipped out, his hand quickly working until a groan left his mouth and you felt his hot cum slide down your ass.

You let the water run all over you for a few more minutes, slowly calming down after your shared orgasm. Ashton’s face was still pushed into your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he panted. You turned your head to press a kiss against his temple, and he hummed a little.

”Come on, I think we’re clean enough now,” you smiled, and he just chuckled, hand slipping over your ass.

”You sure about that?” he kissed into your neck, then reached for the tap to switch it off.

”Glad to see you smiling.”

Ashton blushed and quickly reached for the towels to wrap them around your bodies. You both dried yourselves and you pushed the sweatpants into his hands while you pulled on Calum’s shirt. Ash was still a little quiet, so you made him sit down on the edge of the tub, and you stood between his legs, reaching for the hair dryer.

”Can I?” you smiled at him, running your fingers through his wet hair, and he just nodded.

You gave him a few minutes to gather his thoughts while you brushed your fingers through his dark locks, drying them. When you were done with him you quickly turned the dryer on your own hair, and Ash wrapped his arms around your waist, pushing his face against your stomach.

”You smell like Calum and you,” he mumbled when you switched the hair dryer off. ”You smell like home.”

”We are home, Ash. We always are,” you stroked his hair as you sat down on his thigh, pressing your lips against his temple. ”Even when you have a bad day, you can always find peace with us.”

”I know, love, I’m sorry,” he nudged his nose to yours, kissing your cheek. ”Didn’t mean to act like this. I just… got lost in my head.”

”This definitely calls for some cuddles then, huh?” you rubbed your fingers over his neck tattoo, and he just nodded. ”I think someone might be waiting for us upstairs.”

You left the bathroom together, making your way up with Duke following you until you’ve arrived back to the bedroom. Calum was up on his elbow as he scribbled something in his notebook, but looked up when he saw the two of you step inside. Ashton put the dog up on the bed, and Duke cuddled up to Cal’s feet, already going back to sleep.

”Thanks for going downstairs to shower,” he gave you a smirk as he wiggled his eyebrows. ”At least your filth did not wake up your oh so sleepy boyfriend.”

”God, Calum, shut up,” you felt yourself blush at his comment, but started laughing at the same time.

Calum flashed you a smile, and you saw Ashton smiling softly as well as he sat down on the bed. Cal closed his notebook and put it back in the drawer, then opened his arms towards your boyfriend.

”Come here, you. You look like you need some hugs.”

Without a word Ashton crawled into Calum’s embrace, pushing his lips against his cheek in a quick kiss, cuddling up to his chest. Cal wrapped his arms around him, lightly squeezing his shoulder and running his fingers through his hair. You watched them have their moment from your spot at the end of the bed, grateful for the love you shared between the three of you. Ash looked up at you, then slowly turned around in Calum’s arms who rested his hand on his stomach now, and then reached for you. You climbed closer, pulling the blankets over your bodies as you pulled Ashton into your arms, letting him rest his face against your breasts. He let out a sigh as he felt you cuddling him from two sides, and melted against your bodies.

”I’m sorry for– I’m sorry,” he breathed, burrowing closer. ”I didn’t mean to… I just… it was such a bad day, and you did not deserve me lashing out at you like that. I love you so much, you know that, right? No matter what my day brings, I– I hope you know my bad mood is never meant for you. You are my home, and I need you, I need the two of you so much.”

”It’s okay, Ash,” Cal whispered against his hair, pressing small kisses on the back of his neck. ”We love you, grumpy and all.”

”And we’re always here. Bad days, good days. Need pick-me-up-sex days,” you kissed his forehead and you felt Ashton blush, his fingers grabbing onto your shirt.

”It was a really good pick-me-up-sex, thank you.”

”You’re welcome,” Calum snorted behind him, making Ashton laugh out, pulling Cal’s arm a bit more tightly around himself.

”God, I wouldn’t have you any other way,” Ash smiled, closing his eyes. ”I’m so lucky to have you.”

”Yeah,” you wrapped him in your embrace again, giving a smile to Cal over his head, and Calum smiled back at you as well. ”We’re lucky to have you too, Ash.”

#poly!cashton #poly!cashton x reader #ashton irwin x reader #calum hood x reader #fiction time #series: all the things #afic: all the things

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zaritarazi · 3 years

Note

002 with mixen <3

002 | send me a ship and I will tell you:

when i started shipping it: okay so i went deep into my archives and i found my first mixen gifset, here, from october 26, 2016. it is then followed by this gifset from october 28, 2016, a complete stroke of genius i’d forgotten about. and HERE is the first post i made about them while watching legends, also from october 28th, 2016. i’m assuming that the clip of her trying to kill him was released as a preview which is why the gifset predates the text post. so then in november 2016 is good it’s not really ramped up yet and then we get the chicago way and that, in a lot of ways, changed my life? for the better? unclear. am i being sarcastic? also unclear. there’s just so much about it that did me in. first the “i’m clyde that’s bonnie” because s3 of dusk had JUST ended and that was a RAW fucking nerve. just the exact shit i was looking for. the scene where mick puts his finger to his lips while looking at amaya’s mouth and you just know he’s internally like i am... going to hell. i am GOING to hell. amaya kissing him on the CHEEK? [mick’s certainty of going to hell intensifies] and the real piece de resistance was len descending from the ceiling shrieking in gay rage like. that’s what really solidified mick’s relationship with amaya to me: he was willing to defend her to literally, literally his husband. he says amaya is his ONLY friend because leonard is GONE, implying that amaya is len’s EQUAL in mick’s eyes. mick is a complex character and he’s actually very sensitive but when we had him in season 1, he came as a packaged set with len. and he grew and formed new relationships and listen we all know i can and will ship mick with anyone dominic purcell this is a threat but amaya is, in canon, not just implied by dominic’s choices for the character, the time where mick is declaring his affection for someone out loud. and i also want to reflect on like. leonard, be he real or be he a figment of mick’s mind, despite being WILDLY jealous of amaya, had one goal in that episode: to keep mick alive. like mick was so reckless in season two and with amaya he seems to finally almost want to... pull back? he tells leonard “i’ll be dead like you” which says he isn’t objecting to the idea of being dead, but that amaya is giving him something that makes life exciting, and he’d rather have that than fall into his old self-preservation instincts. you can MARK that mick starts trying to die less after the chicago way until len comes back in the world war i episode. like i guess i started shipping mixen when they became the epitome of “god said love your enemy so i obeyed her and i loved myself” are you HAPPY? is this what you WANTED?

my thoughts: you accidentally had a baby with him. i am the reason he is able to feel love. we are not the same

what makes me happy about them: as much as i’ve focused on amaya’s positive impact on mick i want to emphasize that this is a two way street because mick is someone who taught amaya to embrace herself and what makes her happy. amaya has so much pressure riding on her shoulders and mick is never deterred by it. amaya has always been brilliant beautiful incredible etc but when we first meet her in s2 she is so tightly wound and she is so in the mold of what she thinks she needs to be and what she thinks the legacy of the anansi totem requires of her and when she’s around mick she realizes she can be... amaya. just amaya. like did she say to mick “what would a criminal do” because she was being horny on main? yes. but she also did it because she was genuinely open to learning how he saw the world. like it’s truly incredible that amaya meets mick and in the span of 30 minutes is like actually, mick is the most interesting and enticing person i have ever met and [mick’s certainty of going to hell intensifies] but actually there are just little things they do even when they don’t like each other that show a certain level of respect- mick tells amaya he’s not an idiot and amaya tells him not to call her “girlie” so amaya actually spends the rest of their relationship uplifting mick’s ideas and his accomplishments and mick POINTEDLY never gives amaya a nickname. the nickname one is especially funny bc i geniunely think she just didn’t like “girlie” and may have been fine with a different nickname but like. the fact that mick remembers to NOT give her a nickname EVER when everyone else gets one? the way he paid attention to amaya and respected what she was saying? the way they could be open with each other? like okay they weren’t canon-canon but a part of me is glad bc. this ship was originally marc’s idea and what is legends s2 if not phil and marc fighting for control of the story like the one ring? if marc had been allowed to make them romantic i fear he would’ve done his normal bullshit that he does with his couples where basically mick never changes in a positive way and keeps chipping away at parts of amaya until she feels like she is at “his level” and then he essentially takes over the rest of the parts of her life he hadn’t already taken control of and just, disgusting. like let me be clear on mick rory’s worst day he is still a better person than oliver queen on his best day i don’t care if he’s roasting people alive he is STILL a better person. but with that relationship choice being taken out of marc’s hands, we instead get a relationship where amaya offers mick the starting blocks to build himself UP, and he takes them and is able to keep building himself even without fully relying on her. when he tells her in season 3 “we’ve all done things we’re not proud of” and she just brightens so immediately, and the same thing happens in the pirate episode - and he is able to do these things for her because he let her help him, but did not make her his only lifeline. the person mick is in s3 onward is a person he feels better about being because amaya has always seen good in him and like. not to be dramatic but i am literally, literally crumbling into ash as we speak

what makes me sad about them: FROM SEASON 4 ONWARD SHE ISN’T THERE ANYMORE AND MICK IS JUST LEFT WITH ALL THE FUCKING EMOTIONS SHE MADE HIM FEEL AND THE WAYS SHE HELPED HIM AND ALL HE CAN DO IS TRY TO KEEP HER ALIVE, IN HIS MIND AT LEAST, BY HELPING PEOPLE (CHARLIE AND MONA) THE WAY AMAYA HELPED HIM.

things done in fanfic that annoys me: i have no issue with mixen being in fic with OTHER ships but to my fucking detriment it always seems to be a secondary pairing in captain canary fics and like 1. hate crime 2. mick is a bisexual he can have a husband and a wife he can have them at the same time he can have them at separate times but if you’re writing capcan i’m assuming you have a heterosexual agenda and i want that kept away from ships i like at ALL times

things I look for in fanfic: a genuine understanding of mick’s character. he can be kind of tricky to strike a balance with but you can just tell when he’s being written too aggressively or when he’s being written just as too much of a bastard or a former criminal and like, i also look for amaya not being helpless and emotional bc quite frankly mick is way more expressive emotionally than amaya and it is so vital that this is understood. also if it’s sad i like to read it and then cry myself to sleep

who i’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: OKAY FINE nate for either. nate for both! final ot3 of nate/amaya/mick is good, pure, canon supported, and legally required. but also amaya with zari 1.0 and mick with ray or, honestly? zari 2.0. DON’T @ ME

My happily ever after for them: they just get to like. live life together. mick takes in ese as one of his own and amaya does the same for lita and they have a 3rd child together that’s in the bible look it up but like. not giving up the time traveling life and the heroics and the adventures fully but being a family even when their kids grow up and they can be old together even if it’s them popping on and off the waverider sometimes together sometimes they do their own thing always put the kids first and sure mick has 22 wonderful years on amaya but he’s on a timeship he can wait for her to catch up so they can get old-old together. also nate is there romantically, sexually, raising the children, let’s have mick and nate make a fourth child, this is absolutely non-negotiable

who is the big spoon/little spoon: amaya is AGGRESSIVELY the little spoon. like flinging herself into mick’s arms and like HOLD ME and mick just reflexively wrapping his arms around her bc she small. sof. smells nice. pretty

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: amaya like why be having not-sex when you could be having sex? and mick like i don’t know. sleeping? photography? long drives? (it’s long drives & going to museums don’t @ me)

#mixen #legends of tomorrow #lot headcanon #steelvixenwave #long post #i went off the rails I'M SORRY I FEEL DEEPLY #like i love zari 1.0 but i feel like the questions on hers didn't lend themselves to deeper answers like these did? and sometimes i just ge #don't sue me #dykerory #asks

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punkcupcakestyles · 4 years

Text

Love Song

Part 15

Catch Up!

Sofia Welsh-De La Rosa and Timothée Chalamet will star in new Amazon series and, honestly, I won’t talk about anything else ever again

Amazon Prime has just announced the release of its new original series set in 1970’s New York. According to Hollywood Reporter, the new series will be lead by Sofia Welsh - De La Rosa, Timothée Chalamet, and Logan Lerman, and will be produced by Jordan Peele (Get Out and Us) and directed by Christina Hodson (Birds of Prey). The ambitious project is in talks with some other big names in Hollywood, such as Meryl Streep and even Robert de Niro, to join the series.

Honestly, I’m gagging.

This might come as a surprise as both Sofia, who has been enjoying lots of Oscar’s buzz for the third year in a row, and Timothèe are on the prime of their movie careers, as two of the most prominent young actors in Hollywood, but according to many sources, Sofia has been looking for a way to work with Peele for a long time, while Timothèe is excited to add some action to his resume, after his role in Hostiles and The King. Also, rumor has it, Amazon is willing to pay a hefty (and I mean hefty) amount of money to sign the young stars.

As for Logan Lerman, this is his the actor’s first TV role since 2005 and is set to be his comeback after his career faded a bit to the background. With the star-studded cast, Amazon is hoping this to be the platform’s next big hit.

There is no doubt that Sofia, Timothèe, and Logan are three of THE most talented young actors today, with Sofia being the reigning queen of the pack. Recently, the actress has played a pirate, a thief, a devious courtesan and a feminist writer trying to bring down love, and she’s been rumored to have just signed a deal with Disney to play her very own princess, as well as an undisclosed character in MCU’s highly anticipated Black Widow. She truly has the range, Darling!

Sofia was seen having coffee with Timothèe early in the week, before the show’s announcement, which sparked rumors that the actress had ended things with Harry Styles after he had dinner with his ex in London. She was also seen leaving the James Corden Late Late Night’s studio with Logan...

@BobbyC I’m sorry but all of them are gay...

@Peanutbuttah Eh, she can’t act anyway

@Loveisloud @peanutbuttah She can act, she has been in commercial and art-house movies and has received rave reviews every time. You just don’t like her because she’s dating your fave.

@Arewethereyet she’s an sl*t. So glad Harry’s done with her…

@Soph Are you drunk Buzzfeed? One does not leave Harry Styles for anyone!

****

Harry was cooking.

The air smelled like garlic and butter and I breathed in deeply, just realizing how fucking hungry I was, as I followed him to the kitchen. It just occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten anything that day, other than a cup of coffee that Harry had made me in the morning. It was a little strong for my taste, I liked mine with sugar, even when my mom kept telling me I was being violently disrespectful to coffee. I didn’t care, not one bit.

I never really ate on interviews or auditions days, it made my tummy feel funny and I was usually afraid that my clothes wouldn’t fit like they were supposed to after, so, no food for me, thank you. Usually, D would force-feed me as soon as we were done, practically shoving fruits, nuts, and salads down my throat (sometimes even a burger!), but today I was way too anxious and excited to even pay attention to her efforts. I was going on a date with Harry, I couldn’t care less about anything else!!!

And now, I was fucking hungry and it smelled even better in the kitchen.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” I smiled, looking at the pasta that was boiling on the stove and the bubbling alfredo sauce. Grilled prawns and a green salad were carefully plated in rustic blue and gold plates.

My eyes traveled to him, and I saw him hesitate for a second before he gifted me with a shy smile. He was so lovely, it was no surprise that my head became fuzzy every time I was around him. Even the most superficial thought struggled to grab a hold to my brain. I wondered if anyone could keep their wits around him, but somehow, I doubted it.

“It takes my mind off of things,” he finally said. “And I kinda wanted to impress you, I guess.”

The admission made my heart soar in my chest and I beamed at him as he stood in front of me. I admired his beauty for a second, his skin was slightly tanned and it looked almost delicious against the white fabric of his shirt, and his smile was warm, making me feel giddy as he trapped me against the counter with his arms on each side of my body.

I wanted to kiss him, so so badly, but instead, I let my fingers brush over his neck until they reached the tips of his hair. It tickled and he laughed softly with the most wonderful smile.

“Really?” I asked him softly, cause I didn’t want to break the intimate moment we were sharing.

“Yeah. A bit silly, innit?”

“No, it’s not silly. But, if you wanted to impress me, then you should’ve made a chocolate lava cake,” I teased. “You would’ve gotten me, then.”

“Chocolate, uh?” The right corner of his lip shot upwards, and an adoring feeling hit me right in the chest like a tidal wave.

“Yeap.”

“I’ll keep it in mind for next time,” Harry muttered, his words getting lost in the air as he leaned down to kiss me.

I realized that it was all I wanted: To kiss him slowly, maybe even for hours. But I knew I had to stop him. I was under his spell and there was nothing I could do about it, nothing I wanted to do, anyway. But even I could admit that this was just a dream, one that I wanted to remember every second of. So when he was gone, I would still have those memories.

So before his lips could brush mine, before he could melt my brain with his kisses, I pressed my forehead to his and dropped my hands to his chest, right where his heart was beating rapidly.

“Sorry,” I said shyly, casting my eyes down so I wouldn’t have to look at him, not a few more seconds, not until I had gathered the will to stand strong by my decision.

“Is there something wrong?” His voice was full of sincere concern, a little bit rougher as well, which made his accent more noticeable.

“No,” I shook my head, finally looking into his green eyes. “Everything’s perfect.”

“You just don’t want me to kiss you?”

“It’s just...I want to remember every bit of tonight,” I said, as I tried to ease the utter embarrassment that was crawling over my chest. Who said stuff like that? Writers in cheesy movies or bad teen shows. Fuck.

“Except for my kisses?” He insisted, almost like a little boy fishing for reassurance. I brought my fingers to his cheek and grazed them it until he smiled at me.

The answer was “fuck, no”. His kisses were a memory I wanted to carry with me forever. But I also wanted to have that night, so I could carry it with me, and compare it to every other date, every other person that would come my way.

“I want to remember the little details,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “The dinner you made, which is really close to burning, the grandpa pants…”

“Hey! These look cool! And the sauce, I have it under control!”

“If you say so,” I sneered mischievously, twisting my lips into a mocking smile as he pretended to be offended. “And I want to remember everything you did to make me feel special”

Harry’s arms looped around my waist as he pulled me to his chest and I hugged him back and looked at him, battling the need to just lean in and kiss him. His lips were so pink.

We both sucked at the whole “no kissing allowed” thing, and somehow that made me feel a lot better. For once, I wasn’t the needy, dreamy one.

“What do you think?” I asked in a whisper, smiling against the brush of his lips as he bumped our noses together.

“I want to kiss you, Sof, all fucking night long,” he pouted. “Been thinking ‘bout it all day.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Just...lemme have this, yeah?”

“Why?”

“Cause…” I laughed embarrassedly. “I already have your kisses in a little folder in my brain. Now I wanna have this.”

“Is it just me in that folder?” Harry asked, suddenly interested in some other thing that frowning. Curiosity and amusement were burning in his stare and I rolled my eyes at him, almost scoffing at the fact that was the only thing that had managed to catch his attention.

“Mostly you…” I conceded, even though the petty part of me was all for rolling out with a long list of names before I got to his name. “And Sebastian Stan…” I said, not being able to resist it.

“Bucky Barnes?” His eyebrows twisted in confusion and he looked at me as I licked my lips, considering just how weird I wanted my answer to be.

“And the cartoon, too...” I replied, a little bit too casually for it to go unnoticed, but Harry didn’t seem to notice, cause as he was nodding thoughtfully, his hands traveled to my neck again, making me look at him as he dipped his head down to reach the curve of my neck.

“That’s a bit greedy, baby,” He whispered against my skin, pressing soft kisses down to my pulse point. I wasn’t sure if that was technically a kiss, and I didn’t care, it felt so good. “Someone else?” He was cheating, and we both knew it. I could feel his smile growing bigger, and I sighed as he grazed his teeth over the curve of my neck and let his tongue soothe my skin. “Babe?” He insisted, just to tease me. It was hard to think, and he knew it, but I wasn’t going to admit it just yet.

“Uh.” I licked my lips and struggled for a second, as I struggled to remember what was it that I was going to say. “Chris Evans, “ I began. “and uh, Michael B. Jordan. Mmm… and Logan Lerman.”

“Isn’t that the guy you’re gonna work with?” He asked, stopping suddenly to look at me. I fluttered my eyes open and smiled when they could finally focus on him.

“Yeah, him and Timothée Chalamet.”

“Mmmm...I don’t know if I want to share my folder with them,” Harry pouted, which made me laugh. I realized it was no laughing matter, but still, a warm, almost giddy, laughter kept bubbling out of my tummy.

“Why? Does it make you jealous, H?” I teased.

“Should I be?”

“Mmmm...I don’t know. I honestly think I would let Logan fuck me...those eyes, man.”

“So funny, S…” Harry rolled his eyes. He was not as amused as I had expected him to be.

“You shouldn’t be,” I said softly, looking him in the eyes, serious and sincere.

“You sure?” He asked and I was sure he wasn’t talking about Logan Lerman anymore.

“I’m sure, baby.” I wasn’t even lying. “So, who’s in yours?” I asked, cause maybe that’d take attention away from myself. I didn’t think things through though, cause he had a whole bunch of options for his answer. Who could it be? One of his supermodel exes? His singer ex? This wasn’t a fun game at all.

“You.”

“Oh, so THAT’S how you answer that kind of question!!” I exclaimed, which made him laugh, and, as he did so, his dimples showed on his face, making him look a little boyish. He was fucking pretty, Jesus.

“I’m not even trying to be a good boyfriend here,” Harry chuckled, and I relished on the way the word `boyfriend” sounded out of his lips. So pretty, so fucking pretty. “My folder is called “When Sof’s not around”, and I think we need to fill it up, so I don’t run out of thoughts.”

“Oh, we don’t want that,” I scrunched up my nose and shook my head at him as a smile played on my lips. I was so fucking happy and I couldn’t even figure out why.

“No, we don’t.” The tip of his tongue lapped across his pink lips, and I followed it with my eyes, taking a second or two before I peered up to him again. “I was hoping we could kiss all night,” he said softly. “and maybe I could eat you out by the pool.”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit…”

“You wouldn’t need one, baby,” Harry laughed, a mix of mischief and endearment lacing with it. I couldn’t stop staring at him, and my knees wobbled a bit as he leaned down, bumping our noses together one more time, as the soft brush of his lips against my skin made me shiver.

“Don’t cheat,” I whispered and his soft laugh echoed down in every inch of my body. His lips grazed over my forehead, as he pressed a soft kiss to my skin.

“Ok, baby. We’ll do it your way.”

“Thank you.”

“I think it’s silly, y’know?” He started, pushing me back so he could look at me with his bright green eyes. “We’re just starting, Sof.”

****

I wanted to kiss him.

I looked at him, licking a spoonful of dessert with my head propped on my hand as I listened to him talk, but all I could think of was how much I wanted to lick the trace of chocolate out of his lips.

“Is there something wrong, S?” I noticed there wasn’t much concern in his voice, not like there usually was when he asked me if I was ok. This time, there was a hint of mockery, almost as if he knew exactly what I was thinking and that all I wanted to do was to sit on his lap and press soft kisses from his jaw to his lips.

Fuck.

“No,” I smiled sweetly, cause I wasn’t one to go down without a fight, and I took his hand in mine and pressed it to my lips before I looked at him again.

“Were you distracted?” His smile was turning more devilish as the seconds went by and I felt myself get warm as he leaned closer, his hands dropping to my thigh and pressing softly to it.

He wasn’t gonna win. I was not going to let him.

“Nope,” I said, letting the ‘p’ pop between my lips. “Tell me about your album, I promise I’ll be a grown-up about it.”

“Nice save…” Harry chuckled. “I think you’re gonna like it.”

“I have recently discovered that I’m a very jealous person. I don’t think I’ll like it, but I’ll be happy for you.”

“You shouldn’t be jealous.” A smile tugged on his lips and I felt warm, so warm inside, I couldn’t help but smile as well. “And I think you’re like it, especially since I made a few last-minute changes, against Jeff’s will.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he kept saying I had the guts, the audacity to change the album when we’re about to drop the first single.”

“What changes?” I insisted, because Jeff’s feelings were the least of my concern at the moment.

I wished I could have played it cool. Maybe that would’ve made me look more interesting, aloof, unapproachable, and all those things a girl should be in front of her crush. But my heart was racing and the world was turning chaotic as my head ticked, like a tiny little bomb.

I needed to know.

Tick, tick.

“You’re already sure you’re not gonna like it,” Harry smirked, surely unaware of the mess inside my head. “You might as well wait for it.”

No!!! TIck tick.

“Oh, please, please, pretty please?? What’s the advantage of this if I can’t get a tiny sneak peek?”

“Well, for instance, you get me to cook for you…”

“It was delicious, thank you.”

“And you get me to eat you out at night when you’re not being stubborn and imposing kiss-bans.”

“I like that very much, too,” I giggled, looking at his green eyes as he got just a bit closer, just an inch away from me.

“So it’s not such a bad deal, is it?”

“I guess not.”

“Good.” His bottom lip rolled into his lips and he bit it thoughtfully for a couple of seconds as his eyes kept burning little holes into my soul. That’s how it felt. “Let’s watch a movie, baby. Are there any bans on cuddling?”

“No, not yet.”

His fingers squeezed mine and he got up swiftly from the table, smiling brightly as we covered the few steps to a different room near the pool, where a giant screen awaited for us. There were a bunch of individuals blue chair, blue and velvety, and a larger one, that was meant to comfortably fit two. The room was dark, only lit by the lights coming from the screen, and I followed him blindly until we were sitting side by side. Slowly, we found each other, and as Harry sat against the armchair, I settled between his legs, cuddling up to his chest while his large hand rested on the curve of my waist.

He smelled like a lazy Sunday morning when the rain is lightly tapping on your windows and all you can hear are the chirping birds when still early, so the world hasn’t woken up just yet and you get to focus on that feeling, on the promise of what’s coming.

He also smelled like pasta and chocolate, and I didn’t mind that at all.

He felt soft, comforting, and sweet, but above all, he felt safe. I was safe with him.

And, I struggled for a bit, trying to understand what came next, what was the warmth and giddiness that settled in my tummy every time I looked at him.

“You ok, baby?” Harry asked and I nodded absentmindedly, not ready to let my thoughts go just yet. What was it? “Wanna watch Set It Up?”

“Yeah, whatever you want. your choice.”

“Are you sure you’re ok? You don’t say that often.”

“Oh, shhh, Harry I always do whatever you want.”

“We definitely have different definitions of ‘Whatever Harry wants’” He mused and I propped myself up to look at him, almost suspiciously, almost angry.

“Do we? What do you want?” I asked.

“To kiss you. And for you to stay the night.”

“I have a bed, y’know?” I quirked my eyebrow, looking at him as I had already won the argument.

“Yeah, unfortunately…”

“And we promised we would behave tonight.”

“You can stay in a different room,” he offered. “Or I will.”

“What’s the point then?”

“You won’t have to miss me in the morning…” he shrugged. I laughed out loud, despite my best efforts to look offended. “And I won’t have to miss you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Love.

He looked a lot like love.

And love looked a lot like him.

***

Harry Styles and Sofia Welsh were out grabbing Fro-yo and I’ll never be as cool as either of them

Yes, I know what you’re gonna say: Are they paying you to write this sh*t? And the answer is yes! someone’s paying me to write this sh*t! Alas, neither Harry nor Sofia is. I wish.

The usually private couple, and bear in mind I am using the word couple loosely here as they haven’t confirmed to be dating, gave the world a glimpse of their relationship as they stepped out in Los Angeles to grab ice-creams and bubble teas, along with friends.

Ever since the rumors of their relationship spread around, the couple has been mostly keeping a low profile - which is not very surprising as Harry Styles is not very open about his personal life since he was a member of One Direction and a large part of his fans believed him to be romantically involved with one of his bandmates (that was a mouthful! And also very true, there has been a lot of conspiracy theories about it)

Sofia, who’s in the middle of an Oscar campaign (and has been showing us just how much designers adore her), sported a pair of leggings, a crop top, and a large blazer, a perfect outfit for the ever-changing LA weather, and looked happy and relaxed as she waited for Harry to get their orders. Both stars took photos with fans and left together in Styles’ classic car…

****

We were made out of good intentions.

We slept together that night and every night after that for an entire week. We didn’t do much, we kissed and cuddled, and spent our mornings lazily together until one of us had to go out to the real world. We even went out and we kept stealing looks and smiles at each other, like two little kids that were too shy in front of their crushes.

Photos were taken. Articles were published. Midge was elated.

Harry’s new single was coming out that night, and there was going to be a party to celebrate it. If it was a hit, they were going to celebrate their success and all the hard work that went into it. It was a flop, and it was not going to flop, they were going to drink for better times ahead.

“Fuck!!!”

I stared at the ceiling, willing my body to move and failing miserably at it as every little muscle in my body contracted painfully. My arms hurt, and my legs felt like they were on fire.

I just needed 5 more minutes before I got up and got ready to leave.

It was day 4 of “my new life” as my trainer liked to call it, and after another lunch of grilled chicken and steamed broccoli, I was ready to quit. I had trained and dieted before for different roles, but this time, I had a feeling she wanted to suck the life out of me. It even made me reconsider if I needed to be in a Marvel Movie. Would Midge kill me if I quit?

“Sof…” The male voice scared me just a little, as I thought I was alone in my house. I turn around just slightly, as much as my tired poor body could handle and smiled as I saw Sam standing by my door. “Can I come in?”

He was holding a tray, with something that looked like a sandwich, coffee, and a glass of water, along with a white bottle of medicine. I nodded, grunting even at the soft movement, and he walked quickly to my bed, setting the tray down before me as he stood awkwardly.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I struggled to ask while I propped myself up and sat criss-cross on my bed. I sounded angry, and maybe I was, why would he bring me a sandwich? It was all I wanted to eat and all I couldn’t eat at the same time.

��I’m off work today, and I wanted to check on you. Cat told me you’ve been feeling under the weather. I called your mom and she told me you should “just eat a sandwich and take an aspirin”, so here they are,” he said, offering me a childish smile as he pointed the tray with a little too much joy.

“I can’t eat a sandwich,” I sulked. “And I need to get ready, I have to go to Harry’s.”

“You can eat a sandwich. And he can wait 5 minutes, you’re always there.”

I realized we hadn’t talked about the kiss, not really. I avoided being alone with him, and whenever the occasion presented itself, Sam would go out of the room, giving me space and maybe waiting for me to be the first one to reach out. I had never done that. Honestly, I didn’t think I would.

“You’re right, Sammy,” I said, picking the sandwich in my hands and noticing that he had already cut the crust off. “Thank you.”

It was weird between us, tense and quiet, and I didn’t like it. I bit into the bread looking at an empty spot on the wall as I waited for him to say something. Anything, I would take it. But Sam remained silent, pressing his palms on his thighs as he went to get up.

“Sam,” I called for him and I smiled shyly when he finally turned around. He took his time, though, and for a moment there, I was scared he was going to leave. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what you want to hear when someone you like kisses you.”

“I shouldn’t have…”

“Did you want to?”

“Yes,” I breathed and I realized I wasn't lying. I did want to kiss him, there was no use in denying that.

I put the sandwich down on the plate and moved closer to Sam until I could see the golden freckles that were hidden in his light brown eyes.

“Do you remember that night when you came through my window and stayed the night with me?”

“Yeah, I heard your dad scream, and I wanted to be there in case…”

“I know, Sam. I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since then,” I admitted and he kept staring at me as if he was considering what his next move would be. Would he kiss me? Did I want him to kiss me?

“You’re not being fair to me, Sof.”

“I know. You haven’t been fair to me either, but here we are.”

There was a moment of panic, cause for a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. He leaned over me and I held my breath as I looked at him, not able to stop him just yet. But as his lips brushed over my forehead, I closed my eyes, smiling as he pulled away from me.

“Eat the fucking sandwich, Sof,” he replied and it wasn’t enough. I took his hand before he could leave and I licked my lips, peering up to him with something more than just fear pressing up to my chest.

“Are we good?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess we’ll talk about it again when he gets back with his ex.”

That was a low blow, and we both knew it, but I just stayed quiet as he left the room, wondering if I deserved it.

****

It took me a while to get ready, so I was late for Harry’s party. I went straight to the pool, where a large screen had been set up and the new video seemed to be on a loop. I couldn’t find Harry anywhere, but at the same, he was all I could see. I stared at the screen, looking at his golden skin as he was surrounded by the adoring crowd, at the way they kept touching and the expression on his face as he leaned into them. The song didn’t even matter, cause all I could focus on was his stupidly beautiful green eyes.

I mean, I had watched his videos before. I had seen him fly through the sky and be surrounded by kids, but this was different. Those were entertaining and beautiful, and I felt the emotion in my tummy simply because it was him, and somehow, just seeing him made me happy. But in this one he meant to capture your attention and a little bit of your soul. He wanted to be desired and to be free along the way. And it was such a fucking sexy video.

I lost count of how many times I allowed myself to watch the video, but it was probably too many times. After a while, I decided it was time to look for the real Harry, who was still nowhere to be seen, so I left the pool, smiling and greeting everyone as I passed by.

I hoped he was alone, cause I wanted to fucking kiss him like no one else was looking. I wanted to tell him how lovely, talented, and amazing he was. I was going to kiss him a lot and praise him, it couldn’t get better than that.

I looked for him in the living room, where a small crowd was throwing back cocktails and beers and went out to the front door, where people were lounging about, a bit drunkenly. But he wasn’t anywhere, and I was starting to feel uneasy.

It took me more than a few minutes to make my way to his room because people kept getting in my way. I did my best to smile and engage in silly conversations about nothing, but my heart was growing heavy and my brain was too anxious to even remember if I had succeeded.

I heard him talk even before I stood by his door. I couldn’t quite tell what he was saying or who he was talking to, but I noticed that his words were a little bit slurred, and his accent dripped thick in his low voice. The door was slightly ajar and I pushed it open and stood by the frame as I saw him talking on the phone. He had his back to me, so he didn’t notice that I had arrived, not that it mattered.

“C, you’re drunk,” I heard him say and I wished he had just said a different name. “No...I know I told you it was just a PR relationship...Cause I need time to figure out...Really, C? Wanna know if I still love you? You’re not being fair...” The last part came out as a dry laugh, and I knew I had to leave, it was rude and inappropriate, but, most importantly, it was breaking my fucking heart. But my feet seemed like they were made out of cement, and my legs had chosen that moment to numb out of pain. So, I was still standing there when he turned around, and probably saw the tears that were threatening to spill down my eyes.

I wanted to know the answer too. Could I know it? It’d save us a lot of pain.

“Bye, C.”

He dropped his phone to the bed and I looked at him as he walked quickly to me. He looked flustered and worried, but it all seemed so distant, that it didn’t matter.

“Baby,” Harry said, but that wasn’t my name. Did her call her baby too? He probably did, he was a ‘baby’ kind of guy. “Are you ok?”

“Yes, I was looking for you cause I wanted to check if you wanted me to post something on Instagram,” I lied. “D already drafted a tweet, it’s really simple.”

“Sof, how much did you hear?”

“Nothing. I’m gonna get a couple of photos and uh, I’m gonna go home, I think I need a rest day.”

His hand went to grab mine, but before he could do it, I turned and walked away rushing down the stairs until I could get lost in the crowd.

Fair? None of us was being fair.

#Harry Styles #Harry Styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry writing #hs #writing #I'm gonna post this cause I may never post it otherwise!#Please lemme know if you read it and if you liked it!

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wkemeup · 5 years

Text

Feel Again

summary: Instantly captivated by the woman the nurses have dubbed the ‘frequent flyer’ of the emergency department, Bucky can’t help but fall for Y/n. He relishes every moment he can spend with her and with her apparent clumsiness, it’s quite often. That is, until he learns the real reason behind her injuries.

pairing: doctor!bucky x reader

word count: 13k 😬

warnings: mentions of a physically abusive relationship (no direct descriptions of violence), descriptions of injuries

authors’s note: this def gets a little dark but I promise it’s worth it. please enjoy a very lovestruck/protective bucky 🥰

“Alright little man,” Bucky chuckled, brushing his hand over the curls of the three-year-old boy name Nico sitting in his father’s lap upon a cot. The busy chaos of the emergency department had Nico clinging onto his stuff stuffed stegosaurus for dear life, curled up against his father’s chest.

Small brown eyes looked up nervously as Bucky knelt down at Nico’s eye level. He pointed to the Band-Aid he had obtained special from the pediatrics floor on the boy’s elbow, light green and covered in small cartoon dinosaurs.

“Don’t go running down the stairs again, okay? Doctor’s orders.”

Nico nodded, his curls bouncing into his eyes. Bucky stood up with a grin and shook the hand of Nico’s father who apologized for the fifth time in as many minutes for bringing his son in for such a small cut. His wife was away on business and he had a bad habit of panicking at the small things when it came to their son.

“Always better to be safe,” Bucky advised, offering the nervous father an encouraging smile as he slid the chart into the basket at the end of the bed. The man hugged his son tightly before he reached for their coats, thanking Bucky again for his time. He watched as Nico’s father lifted him easily into his arms and carried him to the exit of the emergency department.

As they pushed open the doors, Bucky caught a brief glimpse of the night sky, blanketed in darkness and freckled in stars. Last he knew the sun was still above the skyline. He glanced up at the bright red numbers illuminated above the nurses’ station to read it was nearing on one in the morning. Bucky sighed, giving himself only a moment to breathe before he recognized Steve jogging in his direction.

“Buck!” Steve called over the loud chatter of irritable patients waiting for their turn and the constant beeping of about a dozen heart monitors. He shoved his way through a hoard of interns in light blue scrubs gathered over the bed of a man talking casually despite the knife protruding from his collarbone and grumbled something about ‘dough eyed idiots’ under his breath. Panting for a moment as he reached Bucky, he glanced down at the clipboard.

“I need you on bed eight.”

“You doing okay, Steve?” Bucky smirked, leaning against the countertop at the nurses’ station. “Looks like being head of trauma ain’t all it’s worked up to be. You seem a little overwhelmed.”

“We’re swamped,” Steve grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose. One of the nurses could be heard scolding an intern with defibrillator paddles in his hands as the patient was opening his eyes from a heavy sleep. “The interns are completely useless and I’ve got more patients than beds. This full moon shit is killing us.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky laughed, clapping Steve on the shoulder as he moved toward the bed at the end of the line. “Take a breath, Stevie. Sam’s on call for tonight. Why don’t you give him a ring?”

“Yeah I bet he’ll love that,” Steve rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll be sure to tell him it was your idea, too.”

"Wouldn’t that be a damn shame,” Bucky called over his shoulder, chucking to himself as he swerved his way through the crowd of people gathered for the injured soccer player in bed six.

Bed eight sat at the end of the series of cots lining the east wall of the department. It was tucked a little further into the corner, separated by a series of rolling carts and machines, so it at least felt slightly less claustrophobic than the rest of the beds around here.

The curtain was drawn around the bed, obstructing the patient from view, so Bucky took a minute to glance over the chart.

Y/n Rumlow. Female. No record of prior medical history, which was a bit unusual, but the nurses had at least taken down note that the presenting problem was pain and swelling at the wrist. Shouldn’t be too difficult to manage. He could have her out of here in a few minutes and on to the next patient before Steve started flogging the interns or actually woke up Sam, for which Bucky would face some serious death glares for the rest of the night.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the well recited speech he usually doled out to patients.

With a quick tug, Bucky swung open the curtain, eyes still glued to the clipboard, “Good evening, ma’am. My name is Dr. Barnes and I’ll be--”

A yelp sounded over the metal rings sliding against the rod over his head and Bucky froze.

He glanced up over the brim of the chart to find a young woman sitting cross legged on the bed, dressed in light wash jeans and a sweatshirt with faded lettering worn with years of use. Her hair was tied up away from her face, like she had thrown it up last minute before leaving the house, messy strands falling down from the bun. The faint discoloration of dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and the imprint of what appeared to be the fold of a pillow case on her cheek.

Bucky noticed almost instantly that she was undeniably, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

She was gingerly resting her right wrist against her knee just over the rip in of jeans. Her phone sat on the bed by her hip, softly playing music from the speaker as the headphones must have yanked accidentally from the plug. Wide eyes, a breath coming in too quick, a hand stabilizing against her chest, and Bucky realized he had startled her.

“Sorry I scared you there, Miss, uh,” Bucky chuckled nervously, glancing down at the chart for her name again, “Rumlow.”

“Y/L/n-Rumlow, actually,” she corrected with a soft, almost proud, smile and Bucky wondered if he ever heard a voice as sweet as hers before.

She pulled the headphones from her ears and quickly turned off the music playing from her phone. The strum of the guitar silenced, something that sounded familiar to Bucky though he couldn’t quite place it, and the unnerving noise of a busy ER filled the room again.

"Y/n is just fine,” she added and Bucky’s heartbeat kicked up.

“Okay then, Y/n,” Bucky smiled back at her as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, enjoying the way her name felt on the edge of his lips. He swallowed, cursing at himself for the flush in his cheeks that seemed to redden the longer she looked at him.

He had a job to do. Might as well focus on that instead of the anxious energy surging in his veins.

He gestured for her hand. “Why don’t I take a look at that?”

“I hope I’m not taking up too much of your time. I’m sure there’s someone who needs your help more than me right now,” she said nervously, glancing down at the series of bed filled with patients and the bustling families around them.

Bucky noticed then that she was alone, and he wondered why that was.

“I’m sure I’m probably fine,” she continued with a shrug, “but I didn’t want it to get worse, you know?”

Bucky nodded, watching the way she kept glancing down at the eight-year-old in bed five who hadn’t stopped coughing since he arrived, skin flushed red and sweat dripping down his back. His mother sat on the cot with him, running her hands along his damped hair as the poor boy looked like he was about to faint at any minute.

“You’re not preventing anyone else from getting care,” Bucky assured her genuinely.

Steve approached the boy and his mother just a moment later and Bucky nodded down towards them. Y/n followed his gaze and her lips curved up against her cheeks, watching intently as Steve took off his stethoscope and let the boy listen to his own heartbeat. A grin broke through the boy’s tired face and he gestured excitedly for his mom to try.

“I’m sure you see a lot of pain working in a trauma center like this,” she said, gaze still trained on the boy, watching him with a kind of secondhand joy that made Bucky’s stomach weak. He didn’t know people were still this genuine. She turned back to him. “Do you have good moments like that, too?”

Bucky nodded, his cheeks a little sore from smiling. No one had ever asked him that before.

“We do, actually. The good moments aren’t always cute kids, though.” He could feel her eyes on him and he took a deep breath, continuing. “Sometimes, the good moments are when a patient’s heart rhythm picks up again after flatlining long past when someone else would have called it or when we’re able to stabilize a patient coming in from a car wreck long enough to get them up to the operating room or when we catch a tumor in a scan for a concussion that’ll probably end up saving their life. That kind of stuff happens more often than you’d think.”

Bucky didn’t realize how wide he was smiling, caught up in the memories, until he noticed the bewilderment with which Y/n was watching him, eyes practically sparkling, as he was lost in his own world to just talk about what made this job worth all of the bad timing and the lost causes.

“But a lot of times it’s the cute kids,” Bucky added, chuckling softly under his breath.

“It’s really nice that you care so much about what you do,” Y/n said, almost longingly with a bit of an ache in her voice that Bucky didn’t catch. “Not everyone is fortunate enough for that.”

Bucky shrugged, trying to brush it off casually. He glanced down at her wrist, noticing the way she was favoring it as she had pulled it closer to her hip bone.

“I should probably take a look at that, then. Since I care so much,” Bucky said with a teasing smirk, one that somehow made her smile even wider and he swore he could just stare at the way her lips curved so sweetly against the soft hue in her cheeks for eternity and be content.

“Right, of course,” she giggled, extending her arm towards him.

She hissed as he took her wrist carefully into his grasp, a frown pursing over her lips and Bucky cursed himself for being the cause of it. He ran his fingers carefully over the swollen area, light bruising forming at the surface, and he glanced up to gage for her reaction to find her pulling her lower lip into her mouth, biting at the dry skin.

“What’s the damage, doc?”

“It’s definitely sprained,” Bucky admitted, reaching for the cart next to the bed and dragged it towards him. The wheels clicked against the tile surface and he pulled open the second to top drawer, rummaging through the supplies until he pulled out a long, tan bandage. “I’m going to wrap this, alright? It may hurt a bit.”

She nodded as Bucky began to unroll the bandage. He glanced up at her, finding himself wanting to know more about a patient than the necessary questions for the first time in years.

He wanted to know what school that sweatshirt was from because he couldn’t quite make out the faded lettering on his own. He wanted to know what artist she had been listening to when he startled her and if she made playlists for the weather and obscure kinds of moods like he did. He wanted to know if her eyes were naturally such a warm, inviting hue or if she smiled like that at everyone or if she wanted to go to dinner Friday night--

Wait.

Focus.

Bucky set the beginning of the bandage at the inside of her wrist and began to wrap it carefully around her arm and then up around her palm between her thumb and pointer finger, and then back around her wrist twice. As he worked, he could sense her eyes on him, watching, and he found himself needing to ask her more questions just to hear her voice again.

“So, no medical history, huh?”

“Just moved to the area,” she replied quickly, a little flatter than what her tone had been before though Bucky didn’t pay it any mind. “Haven’t had a chance to find a primary doc or transfer my records yet.”

Bucky nodded, satisfied enough with her answer, though he didn’t notice the way her shoulders seemed to sigh in relief when he didn’t probe further. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for patients to show up without a medical history, especially if they were from out of state or hadn’t been to a provider within the hospital’s network before. He didn’t think too much of it.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened that you sprained your wrist at this time of night?” Bucky asked playfully as he secured the adhesive end and released her hand.

She flinched slightly at his question and Bucky narrowed his eyes, pausing for a moment to watch her as she averted her gaze to his hands. She shrugged, though a sliver of hesitation slipped in before she spoke.

“Oh, I just tripped over some shoes in the hallway coming back from a shift. Landed wrong.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unsure. He swore he remembered seeing the indent of a pillow crease on her cheek when he first sat down, like she had woken up from a deep sleep, but then she started to laugh. She had those crinkles up by the sides of her eyes that made Bucky’s stomach flutter and he couldn’t remember why he asked in the first place.

“I’m pretty clumsy, actually,” she sighed with that grin that made Bucky’s stomach churn. She brought her left hand up to her lips to hide the smile Bucky couldn’t seem to look away from as a blush filled her cheeks.

That was, until he noticed the flash of a diamond reflect under the florescent lights and his heart sank.

He shouldn’t be surprised; didn’t know why he was. A girl like that, so effortlessly beautiful and a smile that could instant light an entire room; he didn’t have a chance. Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek, forcing out a grin to match hers despite the disappointment wallowing in his stomach.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you too long,” Bucky said as he stood from the bed, trying to mask the hurt in his voice. “Just make sure you ice that and get yourself a primary doc, okay?”

She nodded quickly, gathering her phone and headphones into her bag before she slid herself off the side of the bed. “Thank you, Dr. Barnes. I really do appreciate your time.”

“Bucky,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. She raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “You can call me Bucky. You know, if you, uh, ever find yourself back here which I, um, of course hope you... don’t.”

Cheeks flushed red with an embarrassment he was entirely unused to talking to a woman and Y/n grinned so wide he was sure the corners of her lips might touch her ears. He’d never seen anything like it.

“Okay, Bucky,” she said sweetly and he wanted her to say his name a dozen more times. “Hope you have some good moments tonight.”

Bucky smiled, giving her a subtle wave as he watched her disappear into the crowd of doctors and patients before he caught sight of her again by the door. She paused, digging into her bag for her phone, brushing a fallen hair behind her ear and huffing it out of her face when it fell back a second later. The soft pout on her face made Bucky’s legs weak. Once she pulled the phone from her bag, a frown pursed over her lips and her shoulders seemed to stiffen. Bucky was about to walk over to make sure she was alright when he felt a nudge in his shoulder.

“You look like a complete idiot, just so you know,” Sam grumbled, arms folded over his chest as he clearly was following his gaze.

Bucky tore his eyes away from Y/n reluctantly as Sam began to snicker to himself. He grabbed a chart out of the hands of an intern as they walked by and tracked down some kid named Peter Parker in bed two with a glorified bug bite.

When he looked for Y/n again, she was gone.

***

“You’re thinking about the girl from bed eight again, aren’t you?”

Bucky lifted his head from his arms folded against the countertop of the nurses’ station and sent a glare in Sam’s direction. He hadn’t had a decent night sleep in four days and he was coming off a thirty-six-hour shift, the lack of sleep evident in the bags below his eyes and the messy wave in his hair. He only agreed to stay an extra hour to help Steve with the transition of interns coming onto the night shift so his patience was incredibly thin, especially for Sam’s antics.

“She’s married, Sam,” Bucky groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t matter if I’m thinking about her. She’s not available.”

“Maybe it’s a green card marriage,” Sam offered and Steve wacked him upside the head. He shrugged, seemingly unbothered, though he ducted out of Steve’s reach before he spoke again. “Maybe the guy’s emotionally unavailable and she’s looking for a way out. Or... maybe she’s in the market for some side action.”

Sam bumped Bucky’s hip with his own, making some ridiculous cooing noise. He apparently found himself to be incredibly hilarious as he nearly doubled over laughing at Bucky’s non-reaction.

“It’s been three weeks, Buck,” Steve said cautiously, shoving Sam away and stepping between the two as usually found himself doing. “Maybe you should let Nat set you up with the nurse in cardiology.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Look, I appreciate the thought but I’m way too busy for--”

“Dr. Barnes?” one of the interns came up behind him, timid voice barely heard over the hustle of the ER. Bucky turned around to face her. Wanda, he thought. She handed him a chart. “Bed fourteen is asking for you specifically.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Did you tell her that we don’t--”

“Thanks Wanda,” Bucky pressed out a smile, interrupting Sam as his eyes fell upon the name listed at the top of the chart.

Sam glanced rather obviously over his shoulder and started chuckling to himself, saying something to Steve Bucky knew would only come at his own expense, but he took off towards the west side of the department without waiting to hear what is was.

He couldn’t seem to get there quick enough. Several interns tried to snag him away as he walked past, asking questions they should have learned in their first year, but he shrugged them off, gesturing for one of the nurses to assist them instead. The nurses always seemed to know more than the interns anyway.

Sure enough, as he turned the corner, there she was.

Hair cascading down over her shoulders, exposing the soft curl amongst messy waves he hadn’t seen the last time she visited. She was in black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, almost as if she had just crawled out of bed and still, she was hands down the most captivating person within view.

Her eyes glanced around the room, almost curiously, just watching the doctors as they scribbled their messy handwriting into charts, nurses as they drew IV and scowled at the interns, and patients as they muttered amongst one another, complaining of the noise and the long wait time. Bucky found himself grinning before he even took another step in her direction.

She hadn’t noticed him approach the side of the bed and when he cleared his throat to say hello, she recoiled away as if something had burned her. Her hand clasped to her chest, breath picking up in pace, eyes wide in such a familiar state to when Bucky first met her.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky blurted out, sliding her chart into the basket at the end of the bed. He scratched nervously at the back of his head. “Man, I’ve got a habit of scaring you, don’t I? Guess I should learn to walk a little louder...”

Y/n relaxed instantly as her eyes fell upon him, a blush burning in her cheeks as she grimaced at him, though it turned into that sweet smile Bucky missed so much.

“No, no it’s my fault,” she waved him off, laughing nervously. “I startle easy.”

Bucky nodded, already feeling a contentment just being around her again. He didn’t know it was possible for someone to captivate him so quickly, so easily, without much effort at all. The way she was looking up at him, under thick lashes and a soft red in her cheeks, Bucky felt like he could melt.

“So, what’s going on this time?” Bucky smiled, pulling up a stool and wheeling it under him as he sat next to her bed. She extended her right hand in his direction, wrist covered in the bandage that should have been removed over a week ago.

“I think I messed up your good work,” she frowned, her gaze darting to the ground, almost shamefully. It sat in startling contrast to the kind features in her face.

“It’s not my work I’m worried about,” Bucky said lightly, hoping to get her smiling again. “What happened?”

Y/n didn’t respond for a moment. Instead, her eyes were focused on the way Bucky’s hands grazed over her wrists tenderly, careful not to put too much pressure, his own eyes flickering up to hers every once in a while to make sure he wasn't accidentally using too much force.

“I um,” Y/n started, slowly bringing herself to meet Bucky’s eye when he paused, waiting for her to respond. A smile curved at her lips, though something felt a little off about it. “I tripped over the damn cat. Can you believe that? If I’m gonna fall so much maybe I shouldn’t use my wrist as my landing support, huh?”

Bucky nodded apprehensively, watching the way the smiling didn’t quite reach her eyes. But then again, it was nearing midnight and he was coming off a thirty-six-hour shift. Maybe he was just seeing things.

“Guess I should count myself lucky you’re so clumsy then,” Bucky said, flashing her a smile. “Didn’t know if I’d see you again.”

She bit on her lip in an effort to suppress the grin pushing at her cheeks and the light sparkled in her eyes again. Bucky chuckled under his breath as he started to unwrap the bandage, exceedingly cautious to touch her skin with only the gentlest of pressure.

She hissed as he pulled the bandage from her arm and the cool air brushed over the skin. Bucky narrowed his eyes, studying the swelling, though he was surprised to see some green and yellow marks, bruises about a few days old, wrapping around her wrist. They looked almost like stripes.

“When did you start to notice the bruising?” Bucky asked curiously, lifting her arm slightly to examine the other side.

“Oh, that’s been there for a while,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

“You know,” Bucky started, thinking aloud as he took a closer look, “it almost looks like...”

Fingers? A hand print?

Bucky stopped himself before he could ask. He was sure he must be seeing things. He really needed to get some rest after this shift. Bucky sighed, gesturing for the nurse who walked by to bring him a few of the breakable cooling packs they reserved for favorite patients.

“Think I’ll be okay, doc?” she asked light-heartedly, retracting her wrist from his touch when he had stilled his movements and he was simply holding her hand. He swallowed nervously, not even realizing he had been doing that.

Bucky cleared his throat, nodding quickly to distract from the warmth in his cheeks. The nurse set the cooling packs on the edge of the bed and Bucky thanked her quickly. He picked one up and slid the rest into Y/n’s bag before she could do it herself.

“Use one of these once a day. You just break the bag at the center, like a glow stick, alright?” He snapped the bag, demonstrating how to activate it, and handed it to Y/n. She smiled in appreciation and let it set over her wrist.

"Let your wrist rest without the bandage at night if you can,” Bucky added. “I think you’ll be just fine, Y/n.”

“Thanks, Bucky. You’re a real savior,” she said as her left hand reached out for his and squeezed it firmly.

His eyes were drawn down immediately, staring at her hand upon his, the flicker of her diamond ring barely catching his attention from the way her fingers curled under his palm and her thumb brushed against the back of his hand soothingly. Her hand was so small compared to his, barely covered over his at all, but he could feel the warmth of it, the softness of her touch.

When she pulled her hand back again, Bucky missed it instantly.

“Take care, Y/n,” Bucky said, brushing aside the feeling swelling in his chest as he helped her to her feet. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to see me for a while this time,” Y/n offered, glancing up at him in a way that made his stomach a little weak. There was something unreadable behind her eyes, something that looked a little like longing, though he was certain he was just seeing things.

She was married, after all.

Bucky watched, again, as she made her way to the exit, sliding out of the way of the incoming swarm of interns barreling their way through the ED. She made herself small as she squeezed by a few family members of the patient in bed eighteen, too polite to even ask them to step aside. Then, she paused at the door, her shoulders rising with a deep, heavy breath, before she took a step forward and out into the night.

Bucky turned to head back to the nurses’ station when he found Sam standing behind him, shaking his head as hands planted on his hips.

“Man, you’ve got it bad."

“Shut up, Sam.”

***

It wasn’t the last time Bucky found Y/n in his ED. Over the next few months she’d come in for various injuries, requesting to see him specifically, and miraculously only needing to come in during the overnight shifts Bucky usually worked. It would be a twist in her ankle, or a soreness in her ribs, or sometimes an ache at her knee. She came in enough that the nurses began to dub her as a frequent flyer, though Bucky put a stop to that rather quickly.

She’d stay a little longer than necessary and Bucky would find himself moving a little slower when he examined her, just hoping to savor a bit of their time together.

He’d learned that she used to work as an editor at one of the most prestigious newspapers in the city until she stepped down once she got married, though she didn’t say why. He learned that she liked going to the zoo and just sitting by the red panda exhibit, waiting for them to come out from their hiding places or just to watch them sleep. He learned that her family lived out of state and she hadn’t seen them in a while, though she missed them terribly. He learned that she cared more about the lyrics in a song than the melody and would rather go to a dive bar with a band than a busy club on Saturday nights.

The more he learned about Y/n, the more he wanted to know. He could spend every minute just asking her questions, though he obliged her when he found that she seemed to want to know just as much about him.

So, he’d tell her about Steve; reluctantly, about Sam, too. He’d tell her about his years in medical school and the complete lack of a social life he had, though she didn’t seem to buy that for a second. He’d tell her about the tour he spent in Afghanistan as a field medic and how he nearly lost his left arm in an explosion. He’d tell her about how he liked to go to the batting cage on weekends and about the best ice cream shop in the whole city. He’d even tell her about his fascination with Stark Industries and she’d let him rant for a solid ten minutes on their new project that was set to redesign emergency medicine in the field for decades. ��

Every moment he spent with her left his heart swelling and it didn’t matter to him when she twisted and pulled at the ring on her finger absentmindedly as they talked. He was just happy to be around her, even if this was all it was going to be. A few stolen moments amongst a crowded emergency department, finding that when he looked at her, she was the only one in the room.

It had been nearly a month since he’d seen her last and part of him was thankful she was able to keep herself unharmed and managed not to trip over something else for a while, but he missed her like crazy. He’d find himself looking towards the entrance of the department every so often, a dozen times a shift, searching for her amongst the crowd.

Though, he knew it was unlikely he’d find her today. He agreed to do a double shift for Steve when Nat called out sick, so here he was, attending to patients with the sun shining outside for a change. Y/n only seemed to come in at night so at least now he’d be able to focus on something other than missing her voice or the sweet way she’d smile at him or the flicker of light in her eye when she --

“Dr. Barnes?” a voice called, rough around the edges from years of smoking.

Bucky blinked, pulling his attention back to the middle-aged man sitting in bed eleven. The man coughed again; an awful sound that probably ruptured something deep in his lungs. Bucky sighed, fiddling with the chart in his hands.

“You need to lay off the cigarettes,” he said simply, focus regaining on his task at hand. “You’ve got tar build up in your lungs and it’ll only...” his voice trailed off as a clanging sound erupted further down the hall, pulling his attention, as a nurse rushed to pick up the supplies that had been knocked over. Bucky shook his head, glancing back at the chart.

“It’ll only get worse if you keep smoking like this,” he continued, shrugging. “I can prescribe something for smoking cessation, but that’s the best I can...”

Again, a commotion at the end of the hall. Bucky narrowed his eyes, ignoring the way his patient grumbled under his breath, and he tried to get a better look.

“Sorry! Sorry, shit, I—I didn’t mean to cause such a mess,” a voice stammered out, one so familiar that Bucky quickly handed off the chart to the resident observing over his shoulder without a second thought and headed in the direction of the commotion.

The patient was calling after him, complaining about his terrible bedside manner as Bucky stalked off but it hardly even registered when he saw Y/n’s cheeks flushing red, stumbling over her words.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, a moment of relief in his chest short lived by the way he noticed she was holding her hands; out right, like she was carrying an invisible platter, only her palms were red with blood. One of the nurses was gesturing for her to follow him to one of the open beds, pulling her away by a harsh hand on her elbow from the mess of supplies along the floor she had knocked over. His impatience was evident in his shoulders, the way he rolled his eyes at her, and a heat boiled in Bucky’s chest.

“I can take it from here, Grant,” Bucky called, jogging towards them as he grabbed a pair of latex gloves from the counter. He glanced briefly at Y/n, who’s eyes bulged at the sight of him, a near look of panic flashing over her features that Bucky didn’t quite expect.

“Bucky!” she gaped, swallowing thickly. “I didn't think you'd... Don't you work nights?”

Bucky shrugged, curving his lips into a smile for her the way he usually did. “I agreed to take an extra day shift to help Steve out. Lucky timing, huh?”

Y/n nodded, though she didn’t return his smile. It was unusual for her and it made Bucky raise an eyebrow in concern, though she tore her gaze away from him before he could ask what was wrong. It was then Bucky noticed Grant impatiently tapping his toe, waiting.

“We’re good here,” Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line. “Thanks.”

Grant rolled his eyes, letting go of Y/n’s elbow, and while her shoulders seemed to relax, her hands were still held stiff, her stare firm to the floor. Timid. Almost fearful. So unlike the light-hearted, quick witted woman he knew. It didn’t sit well with him.

Bucky swallowed, tugging on the gloves before he reached out towards her absentmindedly and let his hands cup the back of her own, holding them steady in place. He shook his head as he examined her palms, a deep red coating in the insides of her hands, shards of glass embedded in tiny fragments amongst the surface. Stealing a glimpse at her face, he noticed the faint reflection of tracks down her cheeks, like she had been crying. His stomach twisted into knots at the mere thought of it.

He glanced back at the line of occupied beds before he caught sight of the open door at the end of the hallway.

“Follow me.”

He led Y/n down the busy hall, past several patients who had been waiting hours before her and the dirty looks that followed, before he gestured for her to step inside of the exam room. He flicked on the light switch as she stepped inside and carefully closed the door behind him. She had already taken a seat on the cot when he grabbed a chair and slid it up beside her.

He gestured for her hands again and she gave them over hesitantly. Bucky glanced up at her, noticing the way she avoided his gaze, shielded under his stare for the first time since he’d met her. As he held her hands in his own, he let his thumb brush comfortingly along her knuckles, trying to ease her discomfort as he took a better look at the glass puncturing her skin.

“I’m gonna have to pull the shards out with tweezers,” he said after some time, unable to come up with an alternative plan that would spare her more pain. She nodded, still yet to meet his eye. Bucky grabbed the kit from the drawer and pulled a pair of tweezers out. “This’ll probably hurt a bit. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

As he moved the metal rods to grip the first piece of glass, starting with the smallest fragments first to avoid additional blood covering his view, and tugged it out of her hand with a sharp movement. She let out a yelp in response, unprepared.

“Sorry,” she gritted through her teeth, a flush of embarrassment in her cheeks.

“No need to apologize, Y/n,” he replied sincerely and she seemed to relax a bit at that. “I’ll work fast, alright? It’ll be over in no time.”

She nodded in agreement and Bucky could feel her eyes on him as he worked. Each shard he pulled from her hands elicited a muffled whimper she’d try to hide from him. She’d bit down on her lip, tuck her face against her shoulder to hide the tears welling in her eyes, but he noticed. He cursed his own hands for bringing her this pain.

Hoping he could distract her as he moved to pull out the larger pieces in her hands, he let his mind wander to the question that had been swarming in the back of his head.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” he asked carefully, keeping his eyes trained on her hands as he plucked out a rather large shard embedded into the lifeline in her palm. She winced as the glass clanged into the metal cup next to him. A few more pieces and he’d be done.

Her silence didn’t slip past him as he continued to work, though he didn’t push her just yet. He was already causing her pain by tugging at her broken skin, there was no need to add to that. When he finally got to the last piece in her left hand, Bucky pulled it out quickly and let the tweezers fall into the cup amongst the glass shards. The two of them exhaled in relief.

As Bucky reached for the disinfectant wipes and the gauze he would need to wrap her palms, he warned her that it would sting. He pressed the alcohol-soaked cloth to her right palm and she bit back a whimper, one that made Bucky’s stomach churn. He muttered an apology under his breath as he wiped away the excess blood and wrapped her hand in the soft material. Then, he moved to the other to repeat the process again.

Once her hands were wrapped and Bucky peeled away the latex gloves, tossing them into the disposal bin by the door, she cleared her throat.

“I, uh, dropped a pair of wine glasses,” she mumbled and first the first time that day she met Bucky’s eye. There was something clouding the light in her eyes that Bucky found himself so drawn to every time he was able to steal a few moments with her. She didn’t carry her usual carefree charm or the sweet smile that made Bucky’s knees weak or the laugh he could have listened to for hours on end. Something was off, but he couldn’t make sense of it.

“It was so stupid,” she continued, shaking her head. “The wine spilled everywhere, all over the white tiles and Brock—Brock was so mad, he nearly--” she paused, biting on her lip hard enough to stop the words from spilling out.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, an ache in his chest hearing her husband’s name for the first time. The way she said it, her voice practically shaking, Bucky found himself desperate for her to finish that sentence, though he couldn’t find the strength to ask her to do so.

Instead, she let out a heavy sigh. “I must’ve just lost my balance or something while I was trying to clean it up and caught myself on my hands, right in the glass all over the floor. It was my fault. I can be so clumsy.”

Bucky nodded, though there was a part of him, bigger than he wanted to admit, that didn’t believe her. The way she spoke, it was almost void of emotion, like she had said those words too many times for it to be real, like it had been taught and rehearsed in front of a mirror.

“You’re always so kind to me Bucky,” she said in a whisper, a lingering of remorse in her words that took him off guard. “I take up so much of your time here. I’m sure you have better things to do than pull glass from my hands. I bet even one of your interns could have done it.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Bucky teased, hoping to ease the obvious ache in her voice. He offered her an encouraging smile as he glanced down, realizing he was still holding her hands in his, though she made no movement to pull away. “I... I like when you take up my time.”

Bucky sighed, staring at her hands in his own, running careful fingers over the soft exposed skin, trying to gather some courage.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, but I...” Bucky licked his lips, a nervous shake of his head, and he let the words he had been holding back since he met her tumble out. “I miss you when you’re not here. I don't ever want to see you hurt but... when you walk through the door, it’s the best part of my day. Everything is just better when you’re around. I don’t remember the last time I felt this way... about anyone.”

Bucky glanced back up at her to find her lips parted in shock and a longing behind her eyes that made his stomach weak.

“I... I don’t deserve that, Bucky.”

Her gaze fell down to his lips and Bucky swallowed.

“You deserve the world, Y/n,” he replied and it was the easiest thing he ever said. Her breath hitched at his words.

“Bucky, I--” she exhaled and he could feel it against his cheek. When he had moved this close to her? At what point did he start leaning in? When did she meet him halfway?

His hand had found its way up to her neck, gently running his thumb over her jawline until she met his eye, speckles of light returning between the colors in her iris the longer he held her like this. They were so close, unbearably so, that he noticed the undertones in her iris for the first time and the faint markings of a scar along her forehead. He could stare at her for hours and find new features to appreciate, to want to kiss and hold and love.

He’d never fallen for anyone so fast before and despite the laundry list of questionable ethics, he couldn’t help but want every part of her; her mind, her soul, her body, the sweet curve of her lips, and the sound of her laugh that had marked its home in his chest, the crinkles by her eyes and the curious way she enjoyed observing busy rooms. He wanted it all.

Bucky held himself against her, nose brushing over her cheek bone until his lips sat only a breath from hers. He could feel the uneven exhale of her breathing, shaking in the same anticipation he felt deep in his chest. Eyes glanced up to his, nervous, longing, and he ached for her in a way he didn’t know was possible. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned forward, his lips tingling at the thought of her, though he stilled his movements instantly when he glanced down and noticed a dark purple mark peeking out from under her shirt.

Bucky pulled back, eyes narrowing on the colored patch on the left side of her chest, hidden under her collar, only a sliver of what appeared to be a much larger pattern.

“Bucky?” she questioned cautiously, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mark. It wasn’t until she followed his line of sight that she realized the sleeve of her shirt had slipped a bit and exposed the secret lying underneath. She quickly adjusted her top covering up the bruise again, but the damage had been done. He had seen.

Bucky felt sick suddenly. Nausea creeping up in his stomach for the months that had gone by and he so foolishly missed the signs, too caught up in wanting to see her, in being thankful he could spend another few minutes just talking with her, that he didn’t stop to think about why she was coming in to the ED so often for an otherwise completely healthy woman. The way she referenced her husband, in the rare moments she did, was filled with a kind of hesitation, intimidation, she shouldn’t have carried for a man she loved. He hadn’t realized until now that he’d never even known her husband’s name until a few moments ago.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it; how it was possible that a woman who was so filled with wonder and joy and kindness when Bucky first met her that he was instantly captivated by her, could be the target of a vile man with no other outlet for her anger.

Bucky let his hand fall from her neck and he pulled it into his lap. It clenched into a fist that punctured his nails into his palm, but he was careful to hide it. He let out a heavy exhale, though that did nothing to ease the tightness in his chest.

“How long has your husband been hurting you?”

She sucked in a gasp, her entire body growing stiff. “I don’t-- W-Why would you ask that?”

“You don’t have to lie for him, doll,” Bucky implored softly, his hand sitting upon her thigh, thumb circling in soothing motions. Her gaze fell down to the movement of his hand, watching the tenderness in which he touched her, cared for her. It was unlike anything she was used to, and for the first time, Bucky knew why.

“Please, let me help you,” Bucky pressed. “You don’t have to go back to him. I won’t let him lay a hand on you again. I can—I can help you, doll.”

“Bucky,” she exhaled, his name a plea in her voice. “Leave this alone, please.”

“I can’t do that, Y/n. Not when I know he’s hurting you.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she snapped suddenly, words harsh in her voice though her eyes were wide and fearful. It was too rehearsed, almost conditioned, the way she made her voice stronger, edgier, than she felt. She couldn’t force her eyes to be as hard as her voice or the movement of her hand as she batted his away. She couldn’t lie to him through the shades of her iris he had grown to care for so much.

“Doll, I’m beggin’ you. You gotta let me--”

Y/n jumped off the bed suddenly, shoving Bucky aside to grab her bag from the counter. Her hands were shaking as she did so, wincing as she put too much pressure to her wrapped palms. Bucky stood cautiously, trying to make his stature a little smaller, less intimidating, as he approached her. He reached a hand out to her shoulder.

“Y/n, please--”

“Drop it, Bucky. There’s nothing you can do,” she urged, a panic replacing the faux constructed offense and Bucky saw a glimpse of fear in her features that nearly made his legs give out.

Before he could have a chance to beg her to stay again, she pushed open the door and disappeared out into the crowd. He stared at the door as it closed behind her, frozen in a state of shock and panic for this woman who was so intent to go back to the man who kept sending her here.

Bucky snapped himself back to reality and chased out after her, calling her name as she pushed past the crowd of interns, bumping into their shoulders in haste. She didn’t hold up. Light blue scrubs dove out of his way when they saw Bucky running in their direction.

“Y/n, wait!”

He was stuck behind a gurney that had been wheeled out into the hall and she was suddenly down by the double doors. She glanced back at him, an unreadable expression on her face as she turned and pushed her way outside.

His heart in his throat, Bucky desperately tried to swing around the sides of the bed before he just lunged over the top, much to the annoyance of the nurses, and practically sprinted down the hall. An administrator carrying a dozen files in his hand nearly had to jump out of Bucky’s way as he ran past, clinging tightly to the stack of papers.

Panic surged in his veins when he couldn’t find her down by the doors. He slammed his shoulder into the release and stumbled out into the busy street. Ambulances lined up at the drop off point, pedestrians walking by, family members of patients sitting on the bench, and the man Bucky had been attending to earlier smoking off in the corner, still wearing his hospital gown.

But not Y/n.

Bucky raked his hands through his hair, eyes darting down the street in both directions. She was nowhere. She was gone.

“Shit!”

“What the hell is your problem?” Steve grumbled behind him, having followed him outside upon noticing the commotion. “You’re scaring the patients.”

“I need Y/n’s records,” Bucky said, shoving past Steve and ignoring his question. He could sense Steve on his heels as he raced back to the nurses’ station and rapidly began typing in the computer. It took some digging, her records not being readily available in the system, but he found them.

“Fuck.” He slumped back into the chair, his hand darting to brush over his parted lips.

Prior to her first visit to Bucky several months ago, she had shown up in various EDs in Seattle, one every few months for at least a year, and then to Washington, D.C, for the last two years where she’d been treated for broken bones, a fractured rib, and internal bruising.

She’d also been in New York for longer than she let on, using Urgent Cares and EDs from outside the hospital’s network before she met him. For some reason, when she met Bucky, she stopped her pattern of using different emergency rooms. It was the first time she went to the same place consistently for more than two visits.

She broke her pattern for him.

“You want to tell me what's going on?” Steve raised an eyebrow, hands planted firmly on his hip, though his features began to soften when he noticed the wave of desolation in Bucky’s face.

“I fucked up, Steve. I really fucked up.”

***

“I can’t tell whether or not it’s worse that she hasn’t come back yet,” Sam said as he jumped up to sit on the countertop of the nurses’ station. It was nearing two in the morning and he broke open his second bag of chips. It was a slow night and those didn’t sit well with Bucky. It gave him too much time to think.

“I should have fucking seen the signs,” Bucky grumbled to himself, words that he’s repeated consistently since he saw Y/n last. It had been nearly three weeks since she ran out of the ED on him. Three weeks of constant anxiety, of looking over his shoulder to the door, of expecting the absolute worst. “How many months was she coming in here with those injuries? Why the hell didn’t I realize it sooner? Am I just that fucking naïve?”

“It’s not your fault, Buck,” Steve said calmly. “None of us saw it either.”

“I just wish she had a phone number or an address listed in the chart so I could at least make sure she’s okay,” Bucky conceded for the moment, though he knew the voice in that back of his head would return soon enough to remind him of his failure. “It’s the not knowing that’s killing me. I keep checking the papers thinking I might find her name in there one day, that her asshole husband will have taken it too far and I didn’t do a damn thing to stop it.”

“We’re not mandated reporters in New York state, Buck,” Steve reminded his friend. “We’ve been over this. You can only break HIPPA to report abuse of vulnerable populations; children, the elderly, mentally disabled. Y/n doesn’t fall in those categories so--”

“Am I just supposed to sit here with this knowledge that her husband is the reason she’s been in and out of this ED for the last six months, then?” Bucky grunted, raking his hands through his hair hard enough to tug out a few strands.

“If she’s not willing to press charges, there’s nothing the police can do,” Sam added, his voice a little softer than usual, more careful. “You have the evidence she’ll need if she ever does. You can even testify for her if it comes to that. But until then, you gotta sit still. Unfortunately, with shit like this, she’ll be back eventually.”

***

Another week passed by and still nothing. Bucky threw himself into every shift he could possibly pick up on the off chance Y/n might come back to the ED. He couldn’t risk not being here if she did. Dark circles hung under his eyes and he spent more nights sleeping in on call rooms than his own apartment. Steve was nearing kicking him out of the hospital for a week straight when Bucky finally agreed to take a day off. He slept nearly sixteen hours that night.

“Dr. Barnes?” Wanda called from across the hall. She handed him the chart of a twelve year old girl with what appeared to be a case of the flu judging by the redness in her nose, the cold sweats, and a general green color in her skin.

Bucky pushed out a smile that didn’t come as easily these days and knelt by the bed. “Hey kiddo, how you feeling?”

“Not good,” the girl murmured, clenching at her mother’s hand.

“We’ll get that sorted out for you, okay?” Bucky pulled out his stethoscope and pressed the cool end to the girl’s back, asking she take in a deep breath. Then, he took her temperature just to confirm his suspicions, and when it read 101.3, he grimaced towards the girl's mom. “I’m going to go ahead and prescribe an antiviral and hopefully we can get this flu under control.” He turned back to the girl. “That sound good to you, princess?”

The girl nodded sheepishly and curled into her mother’s side.

“Thank you, Dr. Barnes,” the mom said, offering a smile in Bucky’s direction as she moved to pull her daughter into her arms. He nodded, and turned to hand the chart over to the nurse to assist with discharge when he found Sam waiting behind him. He wore a nervous kind of look on his face that made Bucky narrow his eyes suspiciously.

“What’s your deal?”

“I need you to come with me,” Sam replied, his voice short though there was a lingering concern in his words that Bucky wasn’t quite used to. Having spent so much time ridiculing and teasing one another despite the fact that they were actually friends, he knew enough to drop his guard when Sam came to him in this voice.

Bucky nodded, following Sam down the hall to the exam room with the closed door. Sam put his hand on the knob, but he paused before turning it.

“I need you to take a breath,” Sam instructed and Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, Buck. You need to be in control when you walk in this room.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bucky groaned, his patience growing thin.

“It’s Y/n,” Sam said and it was enough for all of Bucky’s defenses to fall. “It’s... it’s not great, man. But this is what I was talking about. She’s back and she needs you right now. Okay? So, take a breath. Please.”

Bucky nodded quickly, sucking in a deep breath to his lungs though it came in shaky. He wondered when these feelings had developed strong enough to make him this terrified to see you again; to have to wonder what Sam meant by ‘not great’ and sit with that mental image for a moment too long before the door finally opened for him.

Sam stood outside, closing the door behind Bucky as he entered. It was dark inside the exam room, the shades drawn and only the lamp by the desk illuminating the space. Y/n stood just a few feet from him, her back to him as she held her arms wrapped around her waist.

“Y/n?” Bucky called cautiously, though she didn’t move to face him. He took a step closer.

“Wait,” she blurted out. He watched as her breaths came in heavy waves through her shoulders. “Just... please don’t be angry with me.”

Bucky’s heart fell, his chest aching painfully at the very thought. “I could never.”

With a heavy sigh, a brief nod to herself, Y/n began to turn around. She kept her head down, hair shielding over her face, and there was a slight tremor in her hands as she gripped at her forearms crossed over her waist. Bucky took a careful step forward, so that he was standing close enough to see the hairs standing up on her arms and the hear the rustled intakes of her breaths.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” he encouraged softly, trying to keep himself calm despite the anxiety rushing through him. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you, okay?”

She nodded hesitantly and slowly allowed herself to lift her head, her hair falling away from her face and Bucky bit down so hard on his cheek he drew blood.

A dark purple bruise marked over her cheek bone, extending in angry red vein-like lines down the sides of her face from the swelling. Her lip was busted open down the center, dried blood caked in the cracks. But worse than that, her eyes were red, filled with tears that sent a painful stab straight to Bucky’s chest.

Bucky reached out, so tenderly, so slowly, that it felt like a century before his hand grazed against the side of her face. She closed her eyes at the touch, leaning into him as he looked over the bruising, searching for further injury. His thumb traced over her jawline, his hand setting against her collarbone, as he hoped to sooth her while he examined the wounds.

He let out a heavy sigh and pulled his hand back. The subtle gasp she let slip didn’t pass his notice and he wondered if he should reach out again. He parted his lips to tell her that nothing appeared to be broken, that the swelling and bruising made it look worse than it was, but the words fell heavy on his tongue. Nothing he could say could make this any easier. It didn’t matter if it would heal on its own in a matter of a month or two, because the damage had come from someone she was supposed to trust, supposed to love. There was no repairing that. Even if it had been happening for years. It wasn’t any easier.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” she whimpered as the tears began to well over her lashing as cascaded against her checks. Bucky shook his head rapidly, not wanting for her to apologize for a single thing, but she continued before he had a chance to interject. “B-Brock... he knows. He knows I’ve b-been coming here. I’m n-never supposed to go to the same place more than twice but I... I was selfish and- and I wanted to see you again. I c-couldn't stop wanting to see you.”

A sob racked through her and the sound nearly broke Bucky straight in half. On pure instinct he reached out and gathered Y/n in his arms, surprised to find that she came against him willingly, her hands gripping tightly at his scrubs, face pressed into the crook of his neck as he ran his fingers down her back in long sweeping motions.

“I’m right here. You’re okay, doll,” Bucky cooed, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “I’m not going anywhere, you hear me?”

She nodded against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her hands spread against his back, bunching into the fabric of his dark blue scrub shirt and Bucky realized she was trying to ground herself. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head without thinking much of it and his breathe hitched when he realized what he had done. Though it seemed, at the gesture, her whole body seemed to relax, muscles losing their tension and her grip on his shirt becoming less tight.

After some time passed and Y/n’s cries had fallen silent, her breathing coming in at a normal rate, Bucky spoke up.

“Does he have consent for your records?”

Y/n didn’t pull away from him, mumbling against his chest, “he made me sign for it.”

“Okay,” Bucky exhaled, a slight relief at the plan formulating in his head. “We need to go in and revoke that as soon as possible. I’ll make sure everyone in this hospital knows not to give your information to him if he shows up. If we revoke consent, no one can even tell him if you’re here if he asks. Okay?”

Bucky started to pull away, just to help lead her to the door so he could get access to a computer, but she clenched her grip on him reflexively.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, doll,” Bucky soothed, his hand rubbing in soft circles on her back. “I won’t leave your side. Think you can come to the hallway with me? I’ll take you behind the nurses’ station so you’re out of the way of the patients. That alright?”

“Y-yeah,” she conceded, nodding to herself. She let her arms fall from his waist and brushed at the dried tear tracks reflecting on her cheeks. She winced when she grazed over the bruise mark too hard. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, doll,” Bucky said encouragingly in light of the heat boiling in his chest, wondering how long it took her husband to condition her to apologize so often. He could barely stand to think about how this woman who stole his breath away from the moment he met her, who was a filled with such light, could be extinguished by a man who was supposed to love her.

Bucky extended his hand to her, part of him wanting to make sure she had a way to ground herself outside of the room and a more selfish side of him just wanting to hold onto her a little longer. She stared at his hand for a moment, a look of relief on her face, as she took it carefully in her own.

“If it gets to be too much, you just let me know, alright?”

Y/n nodded, pushing out a smile that fell quickly from the pain in her broken lip. Bucky sighed, restraining the part of himself that urged to bring their intertwined hands to his lips and kiss at her knuckles. Instead, he pushed open the door, florescent lighting blinding for a moment as the chaos of the ED came back into view.

He felt a squeeze in his hand as he stepped out into the hallway and Y/n followed closely behind. Her other hand snaked its way across her and hooked onto Bucky’s forearm. She glanced up at him nervously, almost as if she was silently asking it this was okay, and he smiled encouragingly at her, nodding. She exhaled in relief as he helped weave her through the crowd.

Sam noticed them coming in the direction of the nurses’ station first. He raised an eyebrow and set down the chart he had been reading.

“Everything okay?” he asked as Bucky led Y/n around the back entrance and helped her settle into the chair Nurse Hill usually occupied.

“Revoking consent,” Bucky said as Y/n released his hand reluctantly so he could type his password into the computer. “Where’s Steve?”

“He’s been telling staff not to give out any info on Y/n since she got here. The ED’s on lockdown from that asshole as far as we’re concerned,” Sam replied, throwing a half-etched smile in Y/n’s direction. She struggled to lift the corners of her lips but he could tell she was appreciative nonetheless.

Bucky finished clicking a few boxes on the computer and he passed over a touch screen to Y/n. “Just need your signature, doll, and we’re done.”

She took the pen from his hand and quickly scribbled her name onto the pad. He noticed the hyphenated end of her name, his name, was illegible compared to the rest. She pressed her lips into a thin line when she was done and handed the pen back to Bucky. His fingers grazed over hers a moment longer than necessary.

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” Sam asked, breaking through the tension that kept Bucky’s eyes drawn into Y/n’s.

Y/n shook her head. “No, I, uh... I don’t have friends around here and I haven’t spoken to my family in years.”

Sam sent a nervous look in Bucky’s direction, unsure of what to do next. This wasn’t typically his wheelhouse. First instinct was to call in social services, but he knew Bucky would want to be at the forefront of this.

“We’ll figure something out,” Bucky said reassuringly. “You can stay here with us until my shift’s up and we’ll go from there, alright? If that’s what you want...”

Y/n nodded quickly, a solace relaxing the apprehension in her muscles.

“Okay,” Bucky said, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Things were coming together. This mess had a few strings that could be tied to knots. There was a plan, at least, and she wanted him to be next to her through it. It was all that mattered right now.

Despite the break in her lips, Y/n started to smile back at him, a flicker of light returning to her eye that Bucky adored so much. Though it fell away instantly when a voice rang out through the ED and a surge of panic coursed over her features.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS MY WIFE?”

Bucky’s eyes darted over to the entrance of the ED where a man, over six feet in height and a growl tearing through him like a rapid dog, shoved aside two nurses attempting to calm him down. One glance back at Y/n, who had sunk so far down into her chair in an effort to hide herself behind the barrier, and Bucky knew instantly that this man was her husband.

Brock Rumlow.

“You have no goddamn right!” Rumlow bellowed, his voice echoing down the halls and drawing the attention of at least a dozen patients and staff. “I know she’s fucking here! Tell me where she is!”

A rage boiled deep in Bucky’s chest when he noticed the red marks on Rumlow’s right hand; marks he had obtained from the abuse he doled out to the woman he was supposed to love. Bucky's breaths were coming in too fast, his hands clenching into fists so tight it punctured his palm with his nails. Before he could take a moment to think, he shoved his way out to the hall and away from the nurses’ station, stalking in Rumlow’s direction.

“I’m going to need you to calm down,” Bucky seethed, clenching his teeth in an effort to control his voice, though it didn’t do much good. Rumlow paused, shaking off one of the nurses as he straightened his back, sizing Bucky up.

“Tell me where my wife is and we’ll be on our way,” Rumlow drawled, his eyes glancing down the series of cots.

“We cannot confirm or deny if your wife is here, sir.”

“Bullshit,” he spat, face boiling red.

“You’re scaring our patients,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. “Calm down, or leave.”

“Fuck you,” Rumlow grunted and he attempted to push past Bucky, though he was met with a hard shove.

“Don’t make me call for security to escort you out.”

“Security?” Rumlow scoffed. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are but--” His eyes widened, locking in on something over Bucky’s shoulder. “Y/n! There you are baby!”

Bucky’s stomach dropped as Rumlow caught sight of Sam attempting to sneak Y/n back to the closed room at the end of the hall. Sam quickly stepped out in front of her, shielding her from Rumlow’s view as she did her best to hide behind him. A sickening smirk pulled at Rumlow’s mouth and he moved, once again, to push past Bucky but found he was met with a wall of hardened muscle.

“Don’t even fucking think about going near her,” Bucky growled, putting a hand on Rumlow’s chest and shoving him back a few paces. Bucky stole a quick glance back at Y/n, who had peaked around Sam’s arm, and tried to convey a lifetime of apologies for allowing this man even lay eyes on her again. She didn’t even spare Rumlow a second look, focused solely on Bucky.

Rumlow’s eyes narrowed, gaze darting from Bucky to Y/n, watching the silent conversation held in their stare. He cracked his neck to the side as his upper lip began to twitch.

“So, you’re the asshole that’s been putting garbage in my wife’s head,” Rumlow taunted, spit flying from his mouth like a rabid dog. “Yeah, that’s right. I know about you. I know you’re trying to steal my wife from me. But newsflash, asshole! She’s mine!”

“She’s not your property, you piece of shit,” Bucky fumed, his cheeks growing hot with the rage coursing in his veins.

Rumlow let out an animalistic growl and he charged full force in Bucky’s direction, throwing a fist straight at the left side of his face. Bucky dodged it easily, bending down and shoving his shoulder into Rumlow’s gut and sending the both of them spiraling to the ground.

Chaos erupted as patients began to scream, nurses and interns darted out of their way as Bucky held Rumlow down by his collar and punched him square in the jaw. Blood spat from Rumlow’s mouth and he tried to get a grasp on Bucky before he took another swing, but he wasn’t coordinated enough for that. It seemed he was only able to attack when his victim didn’t fight back.

Bucky could barely see straight, red clouding in his vision, until he felt strong hands grabbing at his shoulders and yanking him off the ground. Two security guards hulled Rumlow off of the floor and restrained him by the arms as Bucky tried to shake off whoever was lugging him backwards.

“Buck! Stop!” Steve shouted into Bucky’s ear and Bucky stilled immediately.

Steve released his grasp and suddenly Y/n came crashing against him, wrapping her arms tight around his waist as Bucky stumbled back a step at the impact. He froze, caught off guard for a minute, arms stretched out to the side as he looked down to find her shaking, before he let himself hold her.

“Hey, I’m alright,” Bucky whispered so only she could hear. She squeezed him tighter in response, her face tucking into his neck and he could feel the stain of tears against his skin.

“I’ll fucking kill you! You hear me, bitch! I’ll kill you!” Rumlow roared, pulling against the security guards holding his arms back. Y/n flinched at his words, unable to even steal a glance in his direction, and Bucky tightened his grip on her, turning their bodies so she wasn’t in Rumlow’s direct line of sight. Bucky ran his hands along Y/n’s back, urging her to walk with him away from the scene.

As Rumlow continued to shout obscenities, Bucky glanced back over his shoulder to find security handcuffing him and Steve towering over as they restrained him to his knees. Patients and staff members parted alike as Bucky gently pulled Y/n along down the hall towards the exam room. He whispered endless apologies into her hair as he led her to the door. Once they were inside, Y/n let her hands fall away from his waist and they quickly jumped up to grasp the sides of his face.

“Did he hurt you?” she asked anxiously, eyes darting over his face. Bucky pressed out a sad smile, reaching up to her wrists and pulling her hands away from his cheeks.

“I’m okay, doll, I promise.”

She nodded, though he could tell she didn’t quite believe him. She took a few steps away from him, her hands falling from his outstretched grasp and he missed the contact instantly. One arm crossed over her waist and the other pressed up against her lips as she shook her head, like she was trying to contain words from spilling out. Bucky watched silently, unsure of what to say.

“I should never have dragged you into this,” she finally said, a heavy sigh in her words. She turned her back to him. “I don’t know how he even found out about you, that I’ve been coming to see you.”

“But we never... we didn’t... um,” Bucky stammered awkwardly, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck.

Y/n turned around slowly, her eyes downcast in shame as she nervously picked at the ends of her shirt. “There are other ways to be unfaithful, Bucky.”

Bucky’s heart skipped as she met his eye, that longing he had been seeing hidden behind her iris’s for so long, now so abundantly clear.

“At first I thought maybe I was just confusing these feelings with the relief of someone, anyone, just being as kind and as gentle as you were to me when we first met,” she started. “I thought maybe I was just misplacing this need I had to be touched with something other than... other than cruel intent onto you because you reminded me what it was like when someone was gentle, when a touch could bring goosebumps instead of bruises.”

Bucky nodded slowly, though he let her speak as he took a seat on the edge of the cot. He could tell it was difficult for her to get this out by the way her hands wrung against one another and the subtle quake in her voice. He tried to ignore the way his heart had picked up in pace the longer she spoke.

“But then I realized it was you,” she said, a littler strong now, more assured, and Bucky’s heart nearly stopped. She shook her head, almost in disbelief as she walked a pace closer to him until she stood between his legs. “It was your hands I wanted to put me back together, your face I wanted to see when I closed my eyes at night, your voice in the back of my mind. It was you.”

“Y/n...” her name slipped past his lips like a prayer.

“All that and I still ran from you when you tried to help me,” she sighed, chewing on the dried skin on her lip, just next to the split. “I’ve just been so caught up in this lie for Brock all these years that the second you saw through it, I got scared, thought maybe you’d change your mind about me, think I’m weak or... or foolish for staying with him.”

“I don’t think those things,” Bucky interjected quickly and she smiled sweetly at him, the smile that he had fallen so easily for.

“I know you don’t,” she said, her hand reaching up to brush over his hair and push it behind his ear to get a better view of his face. His skin tingled at the touch. “You reminded me what it was like to feel again, Bucky. I was so numb before I met you.”

Her lips pressed to the center of his forehead and Bucky exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

“I don’t know what happens now, but I want you in my life,” she confessed, nervous eyes meeting his and Bucky quickly reached up to the hand cupping the side of his face to hold it in his lap. He brought her knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently and pulling a smile from her he adored so much.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m right here,” he affirmed and her smile widened. “We’ll have to get you a new doc, though. I can’t be treating you after this.”

“I can handle that,” she replied quickly, chewing on the inside of her cheek to suppress the smile tugging at her split lip though it didn’t do much use.

“And your husband?” Bucky asked nervously, a wince pulling at the corners of his face in anticipation of losing her smile again, but it didn’t let up.

“Let him rot,” she replied confidently. “I’ve got enough evidence against him to put him away for years. Always thought I’d find the courage one day to use it.”

Bucky couldn’t help the smile at that, the pride he felt warming his chest. He pulled her closer, pressing his lips to the crown of her hair as he enveloped her into his arms. She sighed against his neck, the warmth of her breath leaving goosebumps in their wake and Bucky sighed contently.

There were so many unanswered questions, so many next steps, but Bucky couldn’t find the energy to care about a single one of them in this moment with Y/n pulled tight to his chest, the sweet smell of her shampoo flooding his senses.

She nestled in tighter against him and he wondered if had fallen for the version of Y/n who had been numbed for so many years, how much more he could adore her when she was allowed to express every part of herself unimpeded.

It didn’t matter there were so many unknowns. There was too much to look forward to.

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233

additional drabble 🌸

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writingsfromhome · 4 years

Text

Wish you were Sober

I couldn’t get this bop out of my head so I’ve turned it into a fic...enjoy!!!!

Warnings: alcohol, drugs, swearing?

———————————————————————-

You switch the cup in your hands, eyeing Harry from across the room. You came here together but ever since the two of you walked through the front door, he’d put on his hot-shot act and hadn’t spoken to you once. You watch the brunette on his left now, laughing at whatever he’d said. His hand tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. You feel sick but you can’t stop watching. You don’t even know why you came here, this wasn’t your scene, and you knew how Harry got at parties like these. But you just wanted to be near him.

It was toxic, some small part of your brain already knew that, your addiction to Harry and the way he only wanted you when you two were alone.

“Y/N?” Your mate Sofie from English spots you in your corner, you barely hear your name with how loud the music was. “I...wow, I didn’t expect you to be here!”

“Me neither,” you laugh. “Not really my scene!”

“I can tell! You look....” she pauses, deciding not to finish her sentence. “Come on,” she grabs your arm and pulls you away from the wall that you’d made a little watching post of. “Let’s get you a little relaxed...”

The rest of her sentence is drowned out as she turns away. You catch Harry’s eye on your way out of the room but his eyes slide off of you. You try to ignore the stabbing at your heart.

“Oh shite wait,” Sof takes a detour to the open door on your right. “This hasn’t been free all night. Wait out here?”

She enters the vacant toilet and you lean back against the wallpapered hallway. You didn’t even know whose house this was, but it was nicely decorated.

“Drink! Drink!” Loud chanting echoes from the kitchen. Wooping and shouts and then: “Styles! Styles!”

You cover your face with your hands, pushing back the urge to cry. You shouldn’t have come.

You wander away from the door to put more distance between you and the chanting. A room door is tilted open, a few people sit inside. The open window lets in a stiff breeze and a shiver travels up your spine. You imagine yourself walking towards it, opening it all the way, jumping onto the roof, and looking back to see Harry following behind with the grin you adored. You imagine the two of you going back to one of yours, somwhere where the music wasn’t too loud, and just spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms.

“Y/N,” an arm grabs yours again. Sof. “I don’t think you want to go in there.”

“Why?” You turn to face her.

“Do you know whose party this is?” She shouts. You shake your head and she glances back to the crack in the door. “Nevermind, best you don’t know. Oh hey your cup’s empty, let’s fill you up first.”

“I’m really okay,” you protest but Sofie doesn’t take no for an answer. You weren’t sure why she was being such a mother hen, you two were strictly school friends.

“Haven’t you got...other friends here?” You ask Sofie when you reach the kitchen, hoping it didn’t come off too bluntly.

“Yes?” She blinks.

“Won’t they wonder where you are?”

“They probably don’t even know where they are,” she laughs. “Plus you’re cool, we should hang out more Y/N.”

“Yeah...” you smile at her. She was nice.

You expect Harry to be in the kitchen once you reach the keg but he’s nowhere you could see. The churning in your stomach intensifies.

“Let’s go,” she says as your cup fills and you’re once again being dragged through the house. The room in the very back on the top floor is where you end up and as soon as the door opens you realise what Sofie meant about relaxing. A cloud of weed invades your nostrils and you feel you could get high with the sheer amount of smoke in the air alone.

“Close the door!” Someone shouts inside.

“Fuck off!” Sofie shouts, shooting you a wink. “Guess who I found?”

“Y/N!” A few people from class reocognise you and begin shfiting. The good thing about being the “nice one” at school was that everyone sort of liked you and nobody bothered you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” someone says to you. You couldn’t make out who it was so you just smile in the general direction.

“I always thought Y/N was too posh to come to one of these parties,” someone else says and your anxiety spikes. Maybe not everybody liked you.

“She’s right here you shites,” Sofie pats your leg. “Ignore them. They’re all out of their minds right now. We all love you, we just never see you outside of school.”

You let that sink in. It was true—you were always either at home or at Harry’s. Maybe this was good, to be out with your classmates.

You start to feel a little at ease until you spot him near the window. Harry. With the same brunette from downstairs.

You hear someone asking you a question but your gaze is trained on Harry, his hand grips the girl’s face and her hands are on his waist as he pulls her in, his face disappearing into her neck.

“Hullo!” Someone waves a hand in front of your face. “I think the smoke alone’s done her in.”

People around you laugh and you snap out of it, Sof stares at you with her round eyes, holding the glass object out to you. “Y/N? You alright?”

“Yeah,” you croak, taking a swig of your cup. This was so not your crowd.

“Over here,” Harry’s deep voice carries over and he motions for the bong being passed to you. Sofie hands it to him.

“Don’t mind him Y/N, he’s not worth it. He’s always hooking up with some random girl. Anyway, do you want one of these instead?” Sofie pushes cookies in front of your face, trying to distract you. She didn’t realise you’d minded him a lot, for at least the last year.

“I-“ she puts one in your hand before you can decline. Your eyes are still on Harry, don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it.

His eyes catch yours as he takes another hit and winks as he exhales. The churning in your stomach becomes violent.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you say before bolting from the room.

The toilets are occupied and your only other option is to make it outside in time to retch into the bushes on the side. Fuck.

You sit on the steps, eyeing the Rover that had driven you here. You didn’t even know why Harry had driven when he was going to get blackout drunk at the party. You didn’t even know why you had agreed to come with him here.

Your bum grows cold against the concrete steps as you regret the whole night.

“There you-you’re,” a voice slurs from behind you. Harry.

You ignore him, tears stinging from the humiliation of being here and the heartbreak he put you through every bloody time.

It wasn’t always like this though. Harry used to be sweet with you but always said he wanted to keep the relationship on the down low. Didn’t want his mates taking the piss out of you for dating him. So you’d agreed. And slowly he was less sweet and more sour, only coming by when he was drunk, leaving drunk voice messages about how much he wanted you, and only kissing you in the shadows. He’d strapped you onto the rollercoaster and there were too many ups and downs.

“Y/N,” Harry says gentler. “Why’d you go?”

“Surprised you even noticed,” you mumble.

“Huh?” He sits beside you, more like tumbles down beside you. “This party sucks, wanta come over mine?”

“I don’t know,” you say softly, getting up and walking towards the street. This was his routine, ignoring you at the party, then saving you for later.

“Okayokayokay,” Harry comes up after you. “I’ll drive ya home.”

You whip around, was he crazy? But he really was fumbling with his keys. You slide yourself in between him and the car and snatch the keys once he produces it from his pocket. This close, you could see what a mess the night had made of him.

“Give me-“ he tries to grab the keys but you lower them behind you.

“Are you out of your mind? You’re pissed and you’re high and you want to get into the bloody car like that?!”

“Woah,” he breathes, swaying slightly. “Tha was sexy.”

“What?” You sputter, he was impossible. “Harry!”

“Keys?” he leans in, his arms surrounding your waist and you feel your guard slip a little. Bad habits.

“We’ll walk home,” you say into his chest as he puts his weight into you, pressing your back into the car. He’s all muscle and musk.

“You are home,” he hums against you. “C’mere.”

He tilts your chin up and lays a sweet kiss against your lips, and you almost forget the whole night—it’s that perfect. You feel reborn against him this way, pressed into his warmth, his hands holding you like you meant something to him.

But you didn’t.

“Let’s go,” it takes everything in you to push him off. He’d kissed another girl tonight. In front of you. You had to remember that.

“Why?” He whines, pulling you to him again, his back against the car now. He traps you between his arms but you wriggle out.

“It’s gonna be a long walk, I’m tired. We should go.”

He sighs. “Yes missus,” He salutes you and then dissolves into a fit of giggles. You roll your eyes but your heart softens enough to loop your arm through his to drag him along.

“You’re the best y’know?” he slurs along your walk home. “M’lucky to ‘ave-“

He trips over a loose cobblestone and you’re nearly wiped too but you catch yourself in time. Harry, on the other hand, lays sprawled on the floor laughing. You really were tired, but a smile breaks out on your face.

“You’re such a klutz,” you say over him, bending to pick to pick up the phone that had fallen from his pocket.

“C’mere!” Harry shouts, opening his arms but you laugh and continue walking. “Y/N!” He stretches out your name from where he still lay. “Please! Help!”

“Harry I’m leaving you behind! And I have your phone and keys with me!”

That gets him up, following up behind you and grabbing you by the waist as he walks. You were almost to his house. Your own was another five minutes away.

“That’s my house!” Harry points to the third one down as it comes into view.

“I know,” you chuckle. “And everyone is asleep. Keep your voice down!”

“C’mon,” he walks backwards onto his driveway, still holding your hand. “With me.”

“I’m tired,” you say again.

“Baby,” He pouts, a tactic that usually worked. “M’lonely.”

“Harry,” you sigh.

He backs himself into the brick of his house and pulls you towards him by your belt loop. You go without much of a fight.

“Please?” He asks again, putting his forehead against yours. You close your eyes, a battle going on in your heart. Go with him, make love, feel wanted and needed. And then discarded. Or leave with your head held high, your heart a little hurt but better for you when you wake up tomorrow morning without regrets.

“Harry-“ you get out before he pulls you into a kiss, no longer sweet like before. This kiss was Drunk Harry, pulsing in want. Your teeths clash against each other, his kiss demanding all of you as he pivots so you’re up against the wall. Your hands automatically go up to his hair, you loved the silky strands between your fingers. His hands go everywhere: your face, down to your waist, back up to your hair, sliding up your shirt, his cold fingers fumbling with your shirt. It shocks you out of the fervour.

“No!” You push him away. “Harry, stop.”

“Wha?” He steps towards you again, his hands already on your hips, but you push your hands against his chest, his heart beating fast underneath. “What?”

You look at him, a good look. His eyes are frantic, his mouth rubbed raw-almost a violent streak on his face. This was not the sweet guy you fell for. You wanted off of his rollercoaster.

“Harry I just-I wish...” you drop your arms and step sideways. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

“What?” He repeats for the hundredth time. “What’s that mean?”

“I’m tired of this. I can’t play this game anymore.”

He reaches for you again, a wounded look on his face. But you push his hand away, the simple act crushing your heart in a vice so tight that it’s hard for you to even choke out the words.

“I wish you didn’t have to get so drunk. Harry I just...I wish you were sober.”

Harry sways towards you and then back and his brows furrow. He opens his mouth and then closes it as you take another step back.

“I wish you were sober,” you whisper again, more to yourself, before turning your back to the only guy who made you feel like life was worth living.

You turn away from him, and you walk back home. Head held high.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #fic #imagine #conan gray #wish you were sober #harry styles fanfic #writingsfromhome #drugs tw

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myherowritings · 3 years

Text

PART 2. LOVE IS FAKE, MARRY A WEALTHY SUITOR

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.5k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. thank u guys for all the positive feedback on this series so far and i really hope u enjoy this chapter too ! ^-^ xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

It seemed your subtle pleas to the gods to see the mysterious businessman again had been answered, since only the day after Shouto gave you a $100 tip, you saw him at the cafe.

You looked to the skies with a hint of suspicion. This seemed too easy— You were expecting at least a few weeks of your heart pining as you wondered where-oh-where your dreamy customer could have gone. But instead, after a mere 24 hours later, you saw him enter the store in a pair of pressed trousers and a light blue, button up shirt that was rolled just below his elbows.

Blinking, you drew your attention away from his exposed forearms. You knew he was attractive from your first encounter, but was he always this hot?

Sadly, you couldn’t focus too much on that since he had to get behind the line and obstruct himself from your view, and you had to take the order of the next customer.

“Hi! I can take the next person in line.” You smiled. “Good morning! What can I get started for you today?”

After repeating that five or so more times and starting a few drinks on hot bar, you finally reached Shouto’s place and, thankfully, there didn’t seem to be too many patrons piling behind him.

“Good morning, Shouto!” you greeted when he stepped forward to the counter. “How are you this morning?”

“Better now that I saw you.”

Your smile faltered as your cheeks heated up, but you tried to brush it off with a laugh. While Shouto had the definite looks of a so-called businessman playboy, his words held none of the flirtatious intonation as one might expect. In fact, he sounded like he genuinely meant it— Like he was only stating a simple fact and had no reason to be shameful.

It felt both like an attack on your heart and like a refreshing glass of water at the same time.

“How about you?” he continued.

“I could say the same thing,” you said with a chuckle, but you found yourself meaning everything you told him. Though you didn’t expect to see him again at the cafe so soon, you couldn’t deny the instant he walked through the doors, your morning felt just a little bit brighter. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, but this is a pleasant surprise.”

Shouto had the decency to look a little bashful as he averted his gaze slightly. “Yeah. I…really liked the...cheese danishes.”

Surprised, a small giggle left your lips. “Don’t tell me you finished all three dozen of them!”

“Well…” He looked even more sheepish. “I didn’t exactly… I guess you could say that.”

“I’m glad you liked them so much you came back for more,” you teased, looking down at the pastries from the oven you just stocked. “Sadly, our fresh pastry today is a chocolate croissant. I can tell my manager to have cheese danishes made again soon though!”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll try the chocolate croissants today then. Maybe five dozen this time.”

Five multiplied by twelve… A whole 60 chocolate croissants? Were they all for him? You shrugged, not one to judge. If someone wanted to eat 60 croissants, so be it. Though you did hope he wouldn’t eat it all in one sitting. That might give him a stomachache.

“Alrighty, five dozen chocolate croissants,” you repeated as you typed it into the register. “And would you like any beverages with that? Another flat white maybe?”

“Actually, I’ll have a large macchiato with two extra shots of espresso this time.”

You nodded with a hum. “Long day ahead?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I hope the coffee and croissants can carry you through, Shouto!” you said, wishing his day would go by smoothly. “Will that be all for you today?”

“Thank you, Y/N. I hope so too. And yes, that’s it.”

“Great. $73.24 is your total then! Will you be paying in card again?”

He nodded.

“Go ahead and scan and sign when you’re ready.”

You busied yourself by writing his name and order on a large cup and starting the espresso pulls. Your manager was helping get the pastries and other orders ready this morning, so it was nowhere near as hectic as yesterday.

“Your order will be to your right. It was nice seeing you again, Shouto.” You smiled, giving him a small wave and already wishing you could hold the line up to talk to him longer. “See you tomorrow morning?” you asked almost hesitantly.

He returned your smile with upturned lips of his own. “Yeah. Tomorrow.” Before he left the counter, he pulled out another $100 bill—did he go to a dry cleaners to have his cash steamed and ironed? It was almost ridiculously crisp—and handed it to you. “A tip to show my appreciation for your service.”

“A-Again?” you stammered, eyes wide. That was $200 in two days from just his tip alone. That was more than you made in two weeks when you worked part-time! “Are you sure?”

Whether he had money to spare or not, this was incredibly generous of him and you would never have expected this amount from anyone. And it wasn’t like Shouto made it a scene for everyone in the shop to look at and gawk; he was subtle yet unashamed. Like he wanted to do it for no other reason than to do it.

“Of course. You deserve it for your work, Y/N.”

The customer behind him made an impatient noise and you winced. You wanted to be able to thank him more, but all you had time for was a simple, “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

Shouto nodded in response before walking to the other side of the cafe to wait for his order while you managed the other customers in line, a fuzzy but warm feeling lingering in your stomach from your bizarre interaction. Money or not, you enjoyed seeing him in the mornings and were already looking forward to your brief conversations that would take place the next days to come.

He certainly gave you something to look forward to amidst the inconsiderate customers who barely saw you as human every morning. Sometimes, that was all you could ask for.

When Shouto left the store and the line had died down towards the end of rush hour, your manager approached you with a curious look on her face.

“That guy named Shouto…?” Miyazaki said.

You nodded.

“A friend of yours?”

“You could say that… We just met yesterday’s morning shift,” you said as you finished up the green tea latte for one of the remaining stragglers from the last hour’s boom. “But he’s really friendly I think.”

“You only recently became associated?” she asked, lifting a brow. “It seemed like you two were quite chummy today.” Then, nudged your side. “He was rather attractive don’t you think? And rich-looking.”

Fumbling with the lid on the beverage, you stifled a surprised cough. Sure, you got along with your boss and thought she was one of the more understanding and kind individuals you have worked under, but gossiping about the looks and potential income of a customer with your 56-year-old manager was not on your bingo sheet as a worker here.

“I…” You called out the order for the latte before turning back to your manager. “He is.”

“Ooh, he’s rich?”

“I meant he’s attractive!” you sputtered, feeling abashed at her blunt words. You thought of the tip he gave you in your pocket and his orders of dozens of pastries. “Rich…maybe so. Not that it matters!”

Miyazaki tsked. “Of course it matters! Marry rich and your life will be easier. That’s what my mother told me and what her mother told her.” She shook her head. “Should’ve listened.”

You laughed, feeling only a little awkward. It wasn’t the first time you heard that sentiment from someone older than you. It wasn’t uncommon for family members or even workers you were close to to share that same advice—if you could even call it that.

While you agreed money could make a lot of things easier, marrying someone for wealth didn’t appeal to you. But you recognized that even that may come from a place of privilege to be able to say.

“He seems like a wealthy suitor for you, yes?”

“Suitor—?” you choked out. “No! I mean— We just met! We don’t know anything about each other really.”

She sighed, “Young people and their obsession with marrying someone they ‘know’ for true love. When do you really know someone anyway?” Waving a hand she changed the topic. “But enough of that. What I wanted to say was next time that man comes in here, we can offer him a complimentary box of a dozen pastries— Since he’s spent so much in so little it feels like the right thing to do.”

“Sure. A complimentary dozen.” Finally. Work. A topic you felt much more comfortable talking about. “That, I can do.”

“And then maybe offer a hand in marriage while you’re at it.”

“Mrs. Miyazaki!” you gasped, feeling only mildly affronted.

“I joke.” She ruffled her hair and smoothed down her apron. “I’m going to make more pastries now. Can you hold up the front?”

“You can count on me.”

“I know I can. Thanks for your hard work!”

And with that, she headed to the backroom where the kitchen was to leave you alone with your thoughts in a quiet cafe. Rush hour ended so there were only a few customers trickling in, most much kinder and more pleasant to talk to than the bustling businessmen of the earlier shift.

Throughout your small conversations with the patrons, you found yourself thinking back to two things— One, how interesting traditional values and teachings in collectivist cultures were and questioning where you fell into place with them, and two…wondering about Shouto.

Tomorrow, he had said before he left. You’d see him again tomorrow.

Oddly enough, you were looking forward to it more than you’d like to admit.

— ✩ —

It was the fifth day of the week, the fifth time he had seen you at the cafe, and he was already tempted to see you again. Would it be invasive to get another pastry after work? Would you even be there working at that hour?

Shouto saw you this morning (along with all the other mornings before that) and yet he couldn’t quell the pull he felt towards you with only the short interaction time you had together. But he would take what he could get without being weird.

He had been told in the past he could be too forward and dysregulate his feelings and scare people off, and that wasn’t something he wanted to risk with you, though he was certainly much better at it now with learning and practice. If he was reading things correctly, you at least seemed to enjoy seeing him during your shift.

“You got more pastries, sir?” an employee from the medical supplies sector asked him gleefully. “I swear they get better each time!”

Shouto nodded with a smile. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll be sure to relay your compliment.”

With the dozens of pastries he’s been ordering from your cafe (each order seeming to grow every time he visited after realizing just how much his employees enjoyed it), he would place them around the breakrooms and staff kitchens in the establishment. Those areas were always fully stocked with drinks and sandwiches and chocolates in case anyone needed a little boost, but nothing seemed to bring as much comfort as freshly baked pastries did. And a different baked good almost everyday seemed to give people more to get excited about.

He owed it all to your sales’ pitch and blinding smile that made him want to buy it. And your personality, of course.

His Personal Secretary had started to wonder why she no longer was tasked with his early morning coffee runs, and Shouto had to find a way to answer without saying it was because there was a barista he wanted to keep talking to.

Not even he was that shameless.

The first time, his PS had just called in sick and Shouto decided he might as well head to a cafe himself for the first time in a while. He worried he might have been rusty while ordering, but you did such a good job at being welcoming and guiding the transaction that he found himself actually enjoying it. (Enjoying you, maybe. But it was too soon to admit that.)

And now, after that initial meeting, he decided it was worth half an hour of his day to give his PS some early morning break time and visit the cafe himself.

It was worth it so much, in fact, that the next morning on a Saturday, despite most of his employees being given the weekend off, he still went to buy some coffee and pastries.

“Good morning!” an older lady called as he entered the front doors. Shouto had seen her assisting in shifts and baking pastries when you were busy working the cash register. “What can I get started for you today?”

He looked around the store—relatively quiet compared to the rush hour during the weekdays—and to his disappointment, saw no sight of you.

The current barista laughed, seeming to read his very thoughts. “Looking for someone? Y/N perhaps?”

His gaze shot up, feeling like a kid getting caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to by his guardian. Cautiously, he gave a small nod.

“‘Fraid they have the weekends off, actually,” the lady—her name tag read Miyazaki—said. “But don’t look so down, they’ll be back on Monday morning to greet you with a smile.”

He nodded again, feeling his face heat up. Was he that transparent or did Miyazaki just know too much? “Thank you, ma’am.”

She chuckled, waving him over. “No need to be so formal. Now, is there anything I can get for you? Or were you just visiting in hopes of asking our dear Y/N out?”

“No— I…” Shouto felt himself averting his gaze. “I’ll order something.”

At his apparent discomfort, her mischievous gaze softened. “Of course, hon. Sorry for teasing too much. I was just excited seeing how adorable you and Y/N were.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, that’s not my business. Anyway. What can I get started for you?”

He asked for a macchiato and a couple dozen of today’s pastries, paid, and tipped. (Though, it was initially met with a blatant rejection. He didn’t take it too hard; he knew some older members of society thought of tips as insulting and he’d never force anyone to take a tip if it made them feel bad. But after offering again, she thankfully accepted it.)

When he left the cafe, although the exchange was pleasant enough, Shouto still found himself disappointed he wasn’t able to see you.

At least he had something to look forward to next Monday morning, though part of him wished the day would somehow come sooner.

a/n: hope u enjoyed miyazaki’s words of wisdom u.u FHKDF i’m totally kidding, but if ur asian like me then u kNOW what convos like that are like omg ,, just had my mom and two grandmas tell me that recently :’/ kskskfd but anyway i hope u enjoyed this chapter and liked seeing a glimpse of shouto’s thoughts ;3 tysm for reading!

what to expect in the next part:

more shouto and y/n :>

maybe some ~flirting~ pfft idk idk u.u

some minor...misunderstandings

“hello, zuko here” vibes

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