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op-peccatori · 4 years

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Hopefully, Yours (part 1) | MLQC Victor

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Victor/Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 8823

Summary: A fight between co-stars leads to you taking their place, along with the man you’ve been carrying a rather fervid torch for. A happy accident—except it’s a dating show and you have to pretend your feelings aren’t real. | Part 2

Warnings/Tags: language, fluff, oblivious behaviour, dating show, social media, Victor might be a little OOC because I’ve written him differently, some making out in the next part hence the rating, no smut though, my sense of humour

A/n: as always, I’m here to clown around. I tried something a lil new (for me) in this one 👉👈 something I picked up quite recently from works I adored, so I hope you like it! It got longer than I intended so I had to split it into 2 parts ;.; Victor said: keep writing, hoe.

ALSO!!! Yours by Ella Henderson is. THE Victor/MC song for me. I felt it in my bones when I listened to it again after all these years. brb crying

It’s the incessant buzzing of your phone that lures you out of the warm cocoon of your blanket.

You don’t really want to come out of your haven. Not after the week you’ve had, and because you know what awaits you. But as Anna had told you, there’s no way you can avoid this. They had finished editing the episode on Thursday, and Jason had already texted you last night to let you know it would be ready to be uploaded at 7:00 pm today.

Reaching listlessly for your phone, you squint at the bright screen through bleary eyes; it’s 9:00 pm already, and you’ve managed to sleep most of your Sunday away. It’s been a whole week since you filmed the episode, and while you were able to keep your thoughts at bay through it, it’s finally caught up to you.

After all, this is the episode you’re going to be in.

Pulling your laptop towards you, you open the tab that has the streaming site open. Your heart begins its anxious thump against its cage, a beat all too familiar to you by now. As the video begins playing, the memories of that day rise up to the forefront of your mind, refusing to be outdone by this meticulously edited version.

It started with a plan. A very well-thought-out plan.

“He called me a bitch. How can you still expect me to shoot with this jerk?”

Things were not going according to the very well-thought-out plan.

From your place next to Homer, the camera guy, you watched with mounting apprehension as Hollow resisted the AD’s attempts to placate her. But she did seem calmer, the scalding rage of her glare simmering down as he continued to reason with her.

And then her partner for the episode walked back onto the set.

“She said my songs are predictable! You want me to work with a hater?” Kai protested loudly, and Hollow turned back to him in a fury. The AD looked back at you in dismay, the rest of the staff watching with varying levels of exasperation.

“This is supposed to be a cheesy, ultra-romantic show,” Kiki whispered from her place at your side.

“This is what the reality is. All that sappy crap is for the camera,” Willow snorted, shaking her head in disenchanted disappointment.

There may be more than a kernel of truth in that. Hopefully, Yours was your company’s latest project; the second season, the first one having been produced by a different group. It’s a romantic web-series that featured different couples going on dates around town. The couples featured ranged from non-celebrities to people who are household names. So far, there hadn’t been too many issues with the participants—so you really should have expected this.

“Not always!” you cut in, fiddling nervously with your planner. “Some of the couples have gone on to date for real. Raymond and Liliana got married!” A lovely couple from an episode that aired last year. They’d been in the news recently too.

“They’re getting divorced,” Homer piped up in response. You hoped the look on your face let him know how unhelpful that was and turned back to the clashing couple. The AD looked harrowed and harassed as things turn increasingly hostile.

“Willow, do we have a backup couple?” you asked after a long moment of watching them spit insults. “Or just one person to replace either of them. What about Carlson?”

“He won’t be in town until tomorrow.”

‘Can I leave town?’ You wondered in a fit of desperate, wishful thinking.

“And we’ve got everyone here, with everything set up. Can we really waste time?” Kiki wondered out loud.

“No, we can’t,” answered a strained voice from behind you. All four of you turn to see Anna striding towards you, her hassled expression sending a frisson of worry through your stomach. “___, we’ve got guests.”

“Guests?” you repeated numbly. “What guests?” From the look on her face, it couldn’t be good news.

Anna held your gaze for a second, looking vaguely apologetic, before stepping to the side, allowing you to get a look at who Jason, the director, had rushed off to greet. You felt the ground shift beneath you, throat drying rapidly and the surrounding noise dimming as you focused on the new arrivals—your friend, your boss if you insist on the technicalities, and the star of most of your daydreams. LFG’s very own CEO, Victor, and his loyal secretary, Goldman.

In other words, people you hadn’t expected to see today.

“Why?” you whimpered, mostly panicked, but distantly amused by how enthusiastically he’s being greeted. It gave you a few moments to get it together, a familiar buzz coming to life underneath your skin.

This is terrible. Surely, this is karmic retribution for some misdeed committed by you.

“Boss, get it together,” Kiki hissed in an echo of your thoughts, and you realized you had half-fallen back into her and Willow’s arms, their hands steady on your shoulders.

“This is really bad timing. Like, really bad,” Willow pointed out unnecessarily as you straightened up, running a quick hand through your hair.

“Goldman said they just dropped in to see how it’s coming along. I don’t really understand why, this is not at all Victor’s cup of tea, but he’d been hesitant about the show, so...” With a sympathetic smile, Anna placed a hand on your elbow, squeezing lightly. The comfort it brought is chased away almost immediately by a furious screech.

“That is it. I’m done!”

Turning just in time to watch Hollow stalk off the set, you tried to restart your thought process. You just needed to solve this.

“How do we solve this?” Kiki asked in a low voice, and Willow shook her head helplessly.

With no answer for her, you could only watch as Jason led Victor and Goldman towards the set. You knew the exact moment he saw you; there was no smile, but a slow blink. It was still early in the afternoon, and his patrician features were alight with a soft glow in the golden sunlight, the curve of his lip relaxed and his clever gaze taking in you and everything happening around you in seconds. You’re not sure what he saw in your face but it made the corners of his mouth pull downwards.

Your stomach plummeted, seized by a sudden urge to flee.

But with his long strides, he reached you before you could take a step back. Kiki and Willow retreated silently, greeting him like newly registered soldiers coming face to face with their general and leaving you at his mercy. You would have felt miffed, but the way the sunlight softened his features was a little distracting. His lips moved, and you’re certain he said something, but couldn’t quite hear him over the sound of your heart drumming in your ears.

Homer coughed loudly, popping the bubble.

“Good morning, Victor!” Certain your lack of actual delight was obvious, you tried to inject as much enthusiasm into your voice as you could while your project went up in flames behind you. Not that you weren’t happy to see him, as the sudden thrill twisting through insisted on reminding you, but the prospect of disappointing him was one you would rather not face.

There was no visible reaction from Victor, but Homer looked a bit disturbed by the attempt. Goldman just looked like he pitied you, while Jason looked oddly contemplative. This was probably his first time seeing you this…dazzled.

“Good morning,” Victor replied evenly. His eyes, a constant, focused storm and his silken hair falling artfully over his forehead form a picture so lovely, almost beyond words. It’s never stopped you from waxing poetic about them, or his long list of admirable personality traits, but he had a way of knowing when you’re not paying attention. “Looks like I picked a bad time to check in.”

You couldn’t quite pin down the inflexion in his tone, but your immediate guess was that he was either severely disappointed or was low-key mocking you.

With how quickly things derailed, it’s understandable.

“Haha,” you laughed—an unfortunate coping mechanism that seems to flare up most often in his presence. Also, because Victor looked unfairly gorgeous, as always and you were a fool with a worryingly erratic pulse. “Just a few bumps. Nothing we can’t fix.”

Behind you, Kai declared his intent to leave as well. There’s a contract, so they would have to look into this, but that would take time. At that moment, Victor was eyeing the singer leaving the set and your nervous smile with his brows steadily climbing higher.

“Right. Anything I can do to help?” he offered, and the shame that elicited is so fierce you felt like you’d shrunk. This was supposed to be a casual visit, for him to see how the filming was going and instead you made him feel the need to step in and clean up the mess.

“No,” you said, firm, immediate, vehement. He frowned down at you. “We’ll come up with something. Why don’t you two take a seat, we’ll get you some drinks and Anna can go over the ratings and numbers with you.”

Victor seemed to hesitate, still frowning at you, but relented when you mustered up a small but convincing smile for him. “Alright. Let me know if you need anything,” he insisted, because he’s nice like that, before following Goldman and Anna into the small room you’ve converted into an office. You have a small but closed set for the first meeting of the couples, before the crew moves to whatever location has been picked out for the date.

“He’s nicer than he looks,” Homer observed as the two of you watched him leave.

“He’s lovely,” you said miserably. Who would have thought there’d be a day when you said that about Victor? He was still an evil capitalist, but he’s a kind man.

Homer didn’t get the chance to reply as Jason rushed up to you.

“Okay, so we’re gonna have to sit those two down for a talk, but we don’t have time for that today. We need substitutes,” Jason said, not nearly as panicked as you would expect from a director who had no one to direct. It was admirable, this ability to keep his head even when he hits what looks like a dead end.

“I’ll make some calls.” Reaching into your pocket, your mind ram through your options as your hand closed around your phone.

“I want you to do it,” Jason declared.

It took you a few seconds to realize you hadn’t misheard. He looked back at you steadily, already resolute in his decision. You looked around, expecting protests, but the staff members only looked eager.

“…I don’t like this joke,” you said, slowly.

“Good thing it wasn’t one!” Jason returned cheerfully. “Before you turn it down, let me say—please? And don’t go off with the ‘I’m nobody!’ thing. People know who you are.”

“Um.” You really, really didn’t know what to say to him.

“My brother thinks you’re hot,” Homer offered, and Jason beamed at him.

“Okay, we’ll do this. You’re the producer of one of the oldest and most popular shows. You’ve gained more media presence over the last two years. You’re also friends with Kiro and Professor Lucien, so people have been quite curious about you for a while! This is just a fun little thing. Please?” Jason pleaded.

In the spirit of fairness, you took a minute to think about it. It would solve half the problem. And today’s location was a local fair, where the couple got to try out anything they want to, with all the expenses covered by the company. The very thought of stepping in front of the camera left your cheeks flushed, but you couldn’t deny the bud of excitement that seemed to have taken root.

In the end, your stomach made the choice for you.

“If you think it’ll be fine, then sure,” you acceded, thoughts filled with stir-fried noodles and holding hands with a faceless person. “But what about the other person?”

“Hmm,” Jason looked in the direction of the office, reminding you that you don’t have all day to decide.

“I could call Gavin and ask if he’s free,” you suggested. People adore him. “Or Lucien?”

Jason nodded as if truly considering it, his gaze sharp on you. “Good choices. What about Victor?”

“Yeah, no. That is a bad idea,” you said at once, without giving it a moment’s thought. This was a dating show, where people go on cute dates and act adorable on camera. The very thought of Victor doing that at all, let alone with you…was something you couldn’t think of because it was ridiculous. And bad for your poor heart.

“It is an excellent idea,” Jason disagreed. You hated to be the bearer of bad news, but this was necessary. You’ve known Victor for a while now, and felt responsible for Jason’s well-being that would inevitably be threatened if he embarks on this particular path.

“He’d never agree to it,” you told him solemnly. The man barely agrees to do interviews; a show like this? Out of the question. “You know who he is, right? He doesn’t have time for this.”

“Why don’t you leave that to me, and go get ready. I’ll go get your man,” Jason said, loud and bright, shooing you in the direction of the dressing rooms. You stood there for another minute, dazed and afraid. What if Victor thought it was your idea?

The horror.

The terror.

“I’m still texting Lucien!” you called after him, voice pitched high in your alarm. Before you could follow Jason to make sure Victor knows you would never suggest this, an arm slid around your shoulder.

“Darling,” Arnold, the head stylist, cooed at you. “I heard the good news.”

“How?” It had been two minutes. People shouldn’t be spreading this without the director’s confirmation.

“Forget the hows. This is your time to shine. Come, we’re going to make that CEO drool,” he proclaimed, shepherding you towards the dressing rooms. “And I can finally do something about this hair!”

“He’s not going to agree.” You were absolutely certain of that, even as your mind continued to conjure cutesy images of you sharing cotton candy with the reticent man.

Taking a seat at the vanity, you reached for your phone over the cotton pads, watching Arnold’s reflection in the large mirror as he flitted about the small room, picking out different outfits. You hadn’t gotten a chance to check it for a while, and scrolled through your texts swiftly, pausing on a few in particular.

‎

Victor [9:00]: Hello. I’ve got some time off today.

Victor [9:02]: Is it alright if we drop by the set? What time is your lunch break?

Victor [9:20]: You must be busy. I spoke to Anna. I’ll see you later.

Victor [9:25]: Also, good morning.

‎

Oh.

He had actually let you know he’d be dropping in. Taciturn and domineering he may be, but Victor’s quiet consideration often left you glowing with warmth. In comparison, your own clumsiness often left you embarrassed. In this instance, it made you feel doubly determined to do this right.

‎

Y/N [12: 05]: Hi, sorry I missed these. Don’t worry, I’ll get us back on track.

‎

Closing Victor’s chat, you took a moment to consider your options before making your choice.

‎

Y/N [12:07]: Lucien! Are you free?

Lucien [12:15]: Hello. Just wrapped up a lecture. I thought you were going to be shooting today?

Y/N [12:16]: I am. Actually, I had a favour to ask.

‎

You stared down at the screen of your phone, shoulders relaxing as one of the assistants fussed with your hair. Should you wait for Jason before asking him? You knew what the outcome will be, regardless of what you wanted. You’ve always known, always kept your thoughts safe behind a barrier, never letting them spill out in Victor’s presence.

You thought back to his disappointment, and something fragile in your chest tightened.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you prayed to all the powers above that this works out.

‎

Victor [12:18]: Dummy. I’m not worried.

‎

There was a knock at the door as you opened the chat, thrown off but pleased by Victor’s confidence.

“Guys, can I come in?”

It was Jason.

With trembling fingers curling tight, you sat up straighter as he was let in. Your pulse quickens, your emotions jumbling together until your can’t tell them apart. You kept your expectations low. You knew what the answer would be. It couldn’t hurt if you expected it.

You just hoped it wouldn’t change anything. It wasn’t your idea.

“He agreed!” Jason announced with a flourish, and your heart halted its despondent march. “His secretary’s picking up his outfit, they said it won’t take too long. We’ll do his hair and mak—uh, are you okay?”

You swallowed your heart back down. “He said yes.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, stretching out his answer, nodding as Arnold thrust an outfit at him.

“And he…knows it’s with…me?” you asked carefully.

Jason’s brows climbed a notch higher. “Yes, of course.” His eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t quite read.

“Right, right. That’s great! Fantastic. Wonderful,” you said admittedly weakly, turning your gaze back to your reflection. The colour seemed to have drained from your skin, and you ignored the concerned glance exchanged by Jason and Arnold.

“___, hey,” Jason began gently, coming up to stand behind your chair. “Are you okay with this?”

You studied his worried expression, thoughts turning inward. You shifted aside the panic, the disbelief, the prickling nerves, and shushed the sparks of excitement.

A date with Victor.

It sounded wonderful. But the problem was never about you not wanting it. It was that you’ve wanted it for so long and so badly. Could you really have this?

“It’s okay to say no. It’s just…I don’t think it’ll be as awful as you think,” Jason said. His brow furrowed as the lines of your face smoothed out.

Oh.

“It’s for the camera,” you remembered, and Jason hummed thoughtfully. Regardless of what he may think of you, Victor wouldn’t let it show on the screen. You knew he was aware of what the show entails. So, perhaps, you could have this. It was for work. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s okay.”

Your breath evened out from its shallow state, and you smiled up at Jason, who still looked concerned.

“It’ll be okay.” Your phone buzzed again, and you gathered yourself once more.

‎

Lucien [12: 23]: What can I do for you?

Victor [12:24]: And I look forward to working with you.

‎

It wouldn’t be real.

Telling yourself it wouldn’t be real was easy.

Sitting next to Victor, your high stools positioned close together as you tried to keep your thoughts away from dangerous paths, was not easy. But the light notes of his scent, sandalwood and myrrh if your nose hadn’t led you astray, threatened to lull you into a state of near-intoxication.

Jason had wanted to film the ‘first meeting’ and, for the sake of authenticity, decided to have Victor wait in front of the camera while you got to be the one to walk in. Which meant it was straight from the dressing room to the set. While you were thankful you wouldn’t be filmed drooling on camera, it still meant you wouldn’t get a chance to talk to him until after, or in between takes.

You were a lot more grateful for the arrangement when you did walk to the set, because the sight of Victor—clad in a slim-fit black shirt, paired with a dark grey jacket and black pants that stretched deliciously over his muscled thighs—stopped you dead in your tracks, your thoughts wiped blissfully clean.

The look on his face, bright under the studio lights, had been unreadable, but it didn’t look like his usual unimpressed poker face, so you decided to take it as not quite a win, but not a loss either. Then the small upturn of the corners of his lips, however, threatened to overload your system, prompting you to avert your gaze slightly as you walked to him, for fear of losing yourself.

Your hi had been shyer than intended, but his hello had been the gentlest you had ever heard it.

And then he handed you a bouquet of red, fragrant roses and you felt yourself grow weak.

It was a short take, where you both introduced yourselves, and discussed where you’d be going for the date.

“Do you like fairs?” he’d asked, gaze intent as if your answer was of the utmost importance.

“I love them,” you’d answered, meaning it completely, and he’d looked glad.

Even through the wild beating of your heart, you had managed to feel impressed. He was doing wonderfully already. Who knew Victor had these acting skills? Hopefully, he thought the same of you. You weren’t acting, though, and this, you were quickly realizing, could be a wonderful way to lift the lid off the pot just a little, and let your real feelings shine through.

You would be filming the individual, interview type scenes last, after the date.

With the first meeting done, with Jason going over the take to make sure he had everything he needed, you would be moving to the location soon. But first-

You looked around quickly, covering your mic and making sure nobody was paying too much attention to you, before turning to Victor—only to nearly jump in fright when you met his eyes. How he’d known you wanted to talk, you’d never know. His own eyes had widened when you’d turned around all of a sudden, the tips of his ears reddening slightly. He had probably been startled by your reaction.

“Hi,” you whispered, grinning up at him, and his lips twitched as he covered his mic.

“You’re doing well,” Victor told you, giving you a firm nod, and you couldn’t quite keep from beaming at him.

“Thanks, you too. I never knew you were hiding such a skilled actor in there!” You really meant it, but your words gave him pause, mouth opening and closing as he considered his response. Strange, as modesty was something he didn’t often bother with. Not to say he’s arrogant, just that he knew his strengths.

“…thank you,” he finally said. “You too. I didn’t know you could…act.”

Because you weren’t acting. The blushing, the shy giggling, the warmth buzzing through you, they were painfully real.

You shrugged, smiling slightly, and he looked away.

“Just…thank you, Victor,” you murmured. “I know this isn’t really your thing. But I promise I’ll do my best to make it enjoyable.”

The light, airy sound that escaped his mouth could almost be a laugh. He did shoot you a small smirk, facing you once more. “Well, you’re not wrong. But it can’t be too bad. I’ve heard they’ve got good street food.”

“Good street food,” you repeated blankly. Wasn’t he taking this acting thing too far? This was bordering on alarming, coming from the man who used to look down on you for eating instant noodles.

“Yes.” He looks at you as if daring you to argue, and, well, who are you to argue with an actor’s method?

His smile faded slightly as yours widened, eyes fixating on yours, your voice pitching higher in your excitement. “I know, yeah, great food. Literally the only reason I agreed to do this!”

Victor’s face shutters at that, his lips pressing tightly together. “Hm.” He turned back to face the camera, leaving you confused, before realisation dawned.

“Hey, don’t worry! I won’t be too much of a glutton, we’ll be on camera, after all,” you told him, as reassuringly as possible because you and good food were a dangerous combo.

He arched a sharp brow at you. “We’ll see about that. I may spend most of my time in kitchen, but Mr Mills has much to tell me about some of your reactions.”

It was only through the sheer power of your offence that you were able to scowl at him even with the heat flaring up in your cheeks. “Well, there’s no way the food there will be as good as the one in Souvenir, so we have nothing to worry about.”

You resisted the urge to cross your arms, keeping your hands neatly folded in your lap as you turned away from him. But when he said nothing for a whole minute, you couldn’t resist the urge to sneak a peek, only to be left with your jaw slack.

Victor was still facing forward, but the corners of his mouth seemed to be curling up despite the effort he was clearly putting into keeping them neutral, his tiny smile still managing to spill through the seams. It enraptured you, a willing captive to the sight of him so pleased, and you wondered if you could make it through this with your heart intact.

But then, you told yourself through your daze, any chef would be happy to receive such praise for their food.

[video]

hopefully, yours, episode 3, part 1: Introductions (Victor and Y/n)

450,569 views • Feb 8th, 2020

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JTV ✓

1.19M subscribers

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51,509 comments

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Jason P ✓

pinned comment

This is a special one guys ♡

‎

needwater 45 minutes ego

AM I HALLUCINATING OR IS VICTOR LI ACTUALLY ON A DATING SHOW?

view 50 replies

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somsom 23 minutes ago

omg it’s y/n! We rarely get to see her on TV. She’s so cute!!!!

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orangeismycolour 16 minutes ago

!!!! Victor and Y/n!!! Omg ever since I saw them attend the Loveland gala together last year, I knew there was something there!!

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tooktiktook 8 minutes ago

um. isn’t this kind of an odd combo?

cheribb 5 minutes ago

@tooktiktok I thought so too but they look pretty cute together. I mean…he totally blushed when he saw her! And his eyes went so soft!

tooktiktok 4 minutes ago

@cheribb Well, she seems sweet but I think he was just being nice.

By the time you were shuffled into a van and driven to the site of the fair, your nerves had mostly settled.

Of course, that may have had something to do with the pudding cup Victor had handed you once you were in your seats. Goldman had brought over a paper bag, with Victor plucking two cups from it like a magician with a hat. With that said, while it’s a trick you’ve seen many a time, it never fails to bring a sparkle to your eye.

With Arnold’s permission, you were more than happy to dig right in. Your makeup would have to be retouched once you got there even if you didn’t eat.

It was easy to relax in the steady familiarity of Victor’s presence. A dangerous notion, your unwavering faith in Victor, that dictated everything would be okay if he was there because he would either make it so, or you, with confidence half-drawn from him, would make sure of it yourself.

It was only once you were halfway through the treat, humming and wiggling in your joy, that you realized Victor hadn’t started on his. Rather, his eyes were fixed firmly on you, intent in observing your devouring of the pudding.

The next bite went down a little heavier as you turned to him.

“Is something wrong?” Your enthusiasm surely couldn’t have come as a surprise.

He hesitated, seemingly on the verge of saying something, before clearing his throat and looking out he the window at the slow-moving traffic.

“No. Just…eat slowly,” he muttered, refusing to look at you. You squint at him, at the pink creeping up the back of his neck, sucking on the spoon thoughtfully. “There’s no need to rush.”

“Sorry. I got a little too excited.” Your laugh is a little hollow, and you muffle it with another mouthful of the soft, sweet dessert, missing his quick glance back at you.

He sighed, sudden and a little ragged.

“No, I meant that you should take your time and savour it,” he told you, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. “I can make it for you anytime, so there will be many more chances in the future.”

The next spoonful remained frozen by your mouth as you struggled to process his words. Warm fingers came to rest against the back of your hand, guiding it, and the spoon, to your lips. Your skin tingled, but what was more damning was the way he held your gaze as your lips parted, the metal spoon warm against your tongue as you tasted the sweet delicacy.

It felt all the more sweeter, however, because of the little smile dancing across Victor’s lips.

You were rescued from attempting to respond to that by the van slowing to a stop, with Jason and Homer climbing in before they got moving again. Homer would be the one following you around the fair, as they only needed to get a few takes of you indulging in various activities.

“We absolutely need one with the ferris wheel, of course. A little cliched, but still damn cute. Maybe we can fix a camera in the cabin…” Jason trailed off, turning to Homer for his input. “If you think it’ll be better without you there.”

‘How would it be better without Homer there?’ you wanted to protest. ‘I’ll screw it up if left to my own devices! Professional environment aside, that’s a little too romantic!’

Something prickled at the back of your neck, and you realized Victor seemed to be trying to get your attention, albeit in a very silent way you probably wouldn’t have caught on to if you hadn’t spent so much time studying him.

He said nothing even when you met his gaze, but a reassuring warmth calmed you all the same. I’ll be there, he seemed to say. Trust me.

You were worried about the romantic atmosphere getting to your head, but surely Victor, the ultimate voice of reason, wouldn’t let you get carried away?

“Okay, we won’t crowd you guys too much, but remember to avoid turning away from the camera!”

That had been the last thing Jason said to you both before he retreated to his place behind Homer, who was ready with the camera propped over his shoulder. Your mics were affixed to your clothes, and people were already beginning to shoot curious looks your way. It wasn’t an uncommon sight; many vloggers and people working for food channels could often be found in places like these, flitting about with their cameras out as they partook in the activities available.

While being around cameras was nothing new, it was a little strange to be on the other side of them. Nervousness weighing on your chest, you reminded yourself over and over: be natural, don’t act like a lovesick fool, don’t stare at Victor for too long. Turning to the man himself as Homer adjusted the camera settings, hoping to draw inspiration from his steadfast composure, you could only stare in confusion at the intent way in which he was staring at the entrance to the fair.

Following the trajectory of his gaze, you squinted, hoping to see what had caught his attention. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, with people milling about, the welcoming sign high above their heads bright and welcoming.

“Victor?”

“Hm?”

“Is everything okay?” you asked hesitantly, and he nodded, almost distracted.

“Are we ready?” he asked Homer, who gave him a thumbs up.

Jason grinned at you, winking in what he seemed to think was a discreet manner. “Have fun, you two.”

You couldn’t quite pretend there were no cameras, not with Homer keeping up with you as you began to walk through the entrance arch. Looking at Victor was easier, just to block out the awareness of your companions, of course.

Catching your nervous glances, he inclined his head towards you and made an abortive movement, hand rising and falling midway. His jaw clenched, and then he offered you his arm, elbow bent.

As your hand curled around his arm, you focused on your vibrant surroundings. A task made more difficult when, after a short pause, you felt him tuck his elbow into his side, the broad span of his shoulders relaxing when you tightened your grip.

“I’ve been meaning to come here for years, but never really got the chance to,” you told Victor, your voice still edged with nervousness. But Victor nodded at you again, the usual stern line of his mouth quirking up, and your mind stuttered, committing itself to memorizing the precious curve of his mouth.

“In that case I’m glad we got to come here together,” he told you, and it took a good deal of effort not to gape at him. “It’s a first for both of us.”

You nodded, stunned by this unforeseen acting prowess. Seemed like you’ve discovered another one of his many talents.

“Hopefully, it’s the first of many,” he added, a smug lilt to his voice, and this time, you did gape.

“Y-yeah,” you answered, face heating up as you turned away for the sake of your dignity. “Hopefully.”

bandanaman @headaccs

are we all seeing this?? he’s such a gentleman!! I was not expecting this man to be smooth. #HopefullyYours

mintmadness @mintsallover

@headaccs HAVE YOU SEEN HIM? He doesn’t even need words, one look and I would be on my knees. #HopefullyYours #VictorLi

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@mintsallover calm yo thirsty ass down lmao

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raspberrydream @berryberry

“the first of many” omg what does he mean???? #HopefullyYours

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freshasnow @crystalmoon

Yeah, I’m not really feeling this. I thought we were going to get Kai and Hollow this week? #HopefullyYours

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teatime ✓ @spillit

For those of you asking, yes, we knew Victor Li and Y/n were going to be on Hopefully, Yours. Don’t worry darlings, we’ll have some quality tea for you soon! #HopefullyYours

Spotting the first of the food vendors, you both headed over to it, peering at the fresh dumplings. The vendor straightened up at the sight of the camera, a benign smile spreading across his face when you asked him for permission to film, nodding and plating plump, steaming dumplings with the utmost grace.

Gordon, as he introduced himself, was more than happy to talk about his family business, their two restaurants in Loveland, while Homer took close-ups of the dumpling that Victor broke apart for a better look.

“My daughter comes here every year with me, insisting she can handle things by herself, but honestly, I just enjoy coming here,” he chortled, before fixing the two of you with a knowing look. “It’s a completely different atmosphere from the restaurant! And it’s always nice to see sweet young couples such as yourselves. Reminds me of my own fair dates with my wife…”

You couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Victor, who seemed content to chew on his snack. He caught your eyes, before his flickered over your head towards Homer and Jason. Inexplicably, his ears began to tint a deep crimson, as he swallowed with some effort and stepped closer to you.

It began to make sense when he lifted the other half of the dumpling to your lips, Gordon gasping an oh my! in the background, and even as your heart began to race, your eyes widening, you felt…bad. Jason had obviously asked him to do this, and you felt terrible about him having to embarrass himself like this. But he did it, and so you took a small bite of the dumpling, the juicy filling suddenly tasteless on your tongue.

And then there was a soft sensation on your chin, your eyes lifting to see Victor dabbing at your skin with a napkin, the little motion taking all his concentration until he stepped back with a satisfied glint in his eyes, which seemed to linger around your mouth.

When you were unable to do anything more than flush deeply and try to stammer out a thank you, Jason ended the shot.

The glint in Victor’s eyes didn’t fade, and something within you quivered.

raspberrydream @berryberry

he looks like he wants to eat HER #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

@berryberry I CAN’T BREATHE. I thought he was going to kiss her LOL. And she looked so nervous and then he just wiped her chin THIS IS TOO SOFT I CANT #HopefullyYours

mintmadness @mintsallover

god I wish that were me #HopefullyYours

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only4food @bananabread

Okay I HAVE TO go to this place. I NEED TO EAT EVERYTHING. Who’s in??

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midnightmachine @musiclover

Gordon knows what’s up. We stan a hard-working man. #HopefullyYours

Things continued in much the same direction. With no signs of reluctance, Victor rolled up his sleeves and dived into the bustle of the fair. And with his hand curled around your wrist, you couldn’t bring yourself to doubt him. You’ve learned to read the signs of his displeasure, subtle and obvious, and they were nowhere to be found. He looked relaxed, trying out mini doughnuts, accompanying you to any shops you want to browse, frowning when you looked longingly at the ring toss.

“Let’s go,” he said, guiding you over to the booth. Well, you were supposed to try out the games too, but you hadn’t thought Victor would agree to play them. It seemed a little too childish for him.

“I haven’t come here in years either,” he told you when you looked at him curiously, the two of you standing in line with Homer right next to you. “I love my job, but I admit it takes up most of my time. I rarely have time to indulge like this.” He paused, as if wanting to say more, but his eyes flicked towards Homer and he ended it there.

While a part of you was startled in by his words, another softened at his truthful admission.

Victor seemed to have thought of something else, giving you a meaningful look. “But, of course, I always make time for the people in my life.”

You blinked, a little taken aback by sudden turn in direction.

“Even if they want to come to places like these, I don’t mind.” Victor seemed to be hinting heavily at something, and you smiled at that, almost excessively fond. Because it’s true that Victor makes time for the people in his life, especially his family. And even for you—he’s there for you, no matter how small the matter might be; huffing and puffing and going out of his way to help you.

Falling for someone like that, someone who effuses such stoic confidence and noble compassion in equal measure, it was all too easy.

“Then we’ll make sure to come again,” you told him, a wide grin blooming across your face at the thought. It was unlikely that it would actually happen, but it was nice to think about. You stepped up to the cashier, greeting him politely.

You finally got your turns after fifteen minutes, with Homer and Jason taking a quick snack break while you waited. You’d run a quick eye over the prizes available, quickly drawn to two pusheen cat plushies, a soft grey and a dark ebony. You didn’t think he’d judge you on camera, but would it really be okay to admit that’s what you want? The hair pin would be a more sophisticated pick, something more to his tastes.

Silently despairing over your proclivity for soft cute things, you turned to Victor for his choice.

Only to realize he seemed to have taken his jacket off while you were preoccupied and handed it over to Jason, his thin black t-shirt fitting him like a glove—and your words died a swift death at the back of your throat, shrivelling in the sudden dryness of your mouth. Silhouetted against the light of the late afternoon sun, his features seemed sharper, his gaze keener as he twirled the ring in his hands carefully.

As Homer began to roll the camera, and Victor prepared to toss the ring, you panicked with the realization that he didn’t ask you which prize you wanted like Jason had asked him to.

The ring landed around a bottle with a loud clink, and you hoped the surprise you felt wasn’t clear in your loud cheer. With the look he gave you, you knew he caught it even if others wouldn’t.

And then he handed you the dark pusheen plushy, which you took with trembling fingers and a sheepish smile. “Oh, thank you.” It was exquisitely soft to the touch. “This is the one I wanted.”

“Hm.”

“It looks like you.”

“What-” His head snapped toward you as you laughed, clutching the toy to your chest. Whatever outraged retort he’d been about to spit out was held back as he saw you hugging it contentedly, your eyes twinkling at him. “…I suppose.”

You handed him the toy, rolling your shoulders as you were given the ring. “Which one do you want?”

“I’m fine with anything,” he said, eyes locked on the grey pusheen plushy, the other half of the pair. So it was with a laugh, helpless in the face of his clear yet unspoken demand, that you tossed the ring. You got it on the second try, handing the toy to Victor with a triumphant grin, who took it primly and tucked it into his side.

“Thank you.”

“Isn’t this too childish by your standards?” you teased, unable to help it, but he only smirked down at you, stealing your breath with devastating ease.

“It is. But childish is…nice, sometimes,” he admitted carefully.

Your mind helpfully supplied you with all the instances of him calling you childish. “Oh?”

He shrugged, elegant, one shoulder lifting as he looked back down at the toy, before looking back up at you through dark, half-lidded eyes. “It’s grown on me.”

Kiro ✓ @kiromusic

Wow! This seems like so much fun, I kinda wish I got to go there too! :D @miracley/n invite me next time!! #HopefullyYours

Savin @agents

@kiromusic You just want to eat junk. And...well, I guess we can make an exception for today.

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bandanaman @headaccs

Before I proceed to scream over the clip, I just wanted to let y’all know I did some digging and apparently, they are friends! They’ve been spotted together in public many times, including the Loveland Gala last year. You know what this means. #HopefullyYours

bandanaman @headaccs

THE PUSHEEN TOYS. They won each other toys!! Y/n’s right, that does look like him with the dark fur lmao. BUT. Look at Victor’s heart eyes!! And she looked so happy omg T_T

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@headaccs NO WONDER. It seems like they already like each other but it seemed too soon!! They’re so cute omg please date!! #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

@berryberry With how they look at each other? I smell pining ;) I’ve compiled a list of all their public appearances. He even took her to Souvenir! How are they not dating????

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@headaccs DM ME!!!!

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@headaccs I feel like that’s a bit of a reach. They certainly seem comfortable with each other, but that could easily just be friendship, which is nice too. I feel like we should allow people to be friends instead of just shipping them.

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mintmadness @mintsallover

@hotsauce they’re on a dating show, though.

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@mintsallover yeah but plenty of other ‘couples’ were just friends or went on to be good friends. I just think these two are comfortable with each other, which is probably a good thing because Victor doesn’t strike me as the sort of person who can have fun with just anyone, you know?

You ended up having a lot more fun than you thought you would. Victor was always great company, but you could tell he’d tried his best to relax for the show and you didn’t know how to thank him for it. The warm gratitude bubbled up at the base of your throat, your heart sinking deeper into the ocean of affection you already held for him.

He’s so kind. His aloof demeanour, his nagging, his precise instructions and advice were things you’ve come to appreciate. But beyond those lies a heart so caring, so considerate, it made you yearn so deeply, to find yourself a place in it. But Victor had come to treat you as a friend and you could never ruin that because of your own feelings. It was precious, his friendship, and you wanted to treat it as such.

The line you’d drawn with so much care seemed to be straining, however, ever since you found out you would be riding the ferris wheel together, without Homer.

“The people in charge told us if we could just wait until closing time, they could keep things going until we’re done shooting!” Jason had told you as he briefed everyone. A bunch of the crew had left after packing up, as this would be the last take for the day. “That way Homer can fix the lighting and equipment in the cabin and won’t need to join you two! Give you some privacy, yeah?”

‘For what,’ you’d screamed internally, nodding along with a smile on the outside.

Looking to Victor for his opinion had been futile, because he seemed to have withdrawn into his own head, looking up at the ferris wheel absently. You were supposed to shoot the individual parts, but with how late it had gotten, Jason had asked the two of you to drop by the studio the next day. Only, you had a free slot in the morning while Victor would only be able to make it sometime during the late afternoon.

So you wouldn’t get to see what Victor said about you. That was perfectly fine. Things had gone well, and Victor wasn’t the sort to badmouth someone anyway.

It was supposed to be his day off. And he gave it up to participate in a show that was, for all intents and purposes, pointless for him. You felt terrible, heart aching at the thought that once again you had made him waste his time.

How on earth did Jason even get him to agree to this?

“You’re thinking something ridiculous,” came a low voice, and Victor seemed to have come back from his mental journey.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, the guilt getting to you.

“For what?” He seemed genuinely baffled, and it made you feel worse.

“For this entire day. You just came for a visit and now it’s after 8 pm and your day off is gone and you rarely get free time…” your shameful rambling tapered off as the furrow between his brows appeared to grow deeper and deeper.

His response was interrupted by a staff member, who came to let you know the ride was ready for you two. Walking together in complete silence, you wondered what he was about to say.

“Do you regret it?”

You arrived at the ride, and Victor had stopped in front of the open door. “What?”

“Do you regret it?” he repeated patiently, holding his hand out to you. “This entire day. Our date.”

Our date.

It was silly, how him calling it a date, with no cameras in sight, seemed to affect you so deeply. It was ridiculous but it was so real, how your heart fluttered and hope unfurled in the garden where you’ve buried your affection.

“Because I’m not sorry,” he added when you failed to do anything other than flush horribly. There was a question in his gaze, one you didn’t know how to answer, so with a deep breath, you focused on the one he’d asked out loud.

“No,” you said softly, your hand coming to rest over his as he helped you into the cabin. “I don’t regret it.”

How could you, when he was everything you wanted?

You settled on the plastic bench, watching Homer fiddle with the settings and light, making sure the camera’s fixed in place, basking in the heat emanating from Victor.

“Alright, that should work. You guys ready?” he asked.

“Yeah!”

“Yes.”

Homer stepped back to let Jason poke his head through the door. “We’re all set guys. Just call us if there are any problems. Be yourselves, don’t worry about the take. And remember, make sure to make it as romantic as possible!”

As the door closed behind him, with the camera rolling, silence rose to take the place of the sounds now cut off, the rest of the world falling away as the ride began and you began to ascend.

Outside the window, the stars shone in a twinkling blanket across the night sky, and Victor’s arm pressed into yours. Meeting his eyes was difficult, astoundingly so after the entire day you spent together.

This close, it would be so easy to let the words tumble from your lips. You didn’t know what your eyes could give away right now, and you were just as afraid of the softness in his gaze.

It looked too real.

“I’m glad we finally got some peace,” he muttered, and just like that a bright laugh broke out through your fear.

“This was not your kind of place at all, was it?” you said, snickering at the look he threw your way, because it’s so easy to make him huff like that.

“It was…lively,” he said, glaring at you as you stifle your smile behind your hand. “Exactly the kind of place you enjoy.”

“That’s true.”

“Then that’s that.” He shifted a little, trying to face you, his knee knocking into yours. “As long as you had fun, we’ll come again.”

Despite your warnings, your heart skipped a beat.

You tried to laugh it off, changing the subject to your childhoods, swapping lighter stories and carefully avoiding the heartbreaks. Your hands moved somewhere in between, in the dim lights, and your fingers had found each other’s. Make it romantic, Jason had said. That was the only reason. You talked about work, about Miracle Finder, about his public projects, how your busy lives don’t give you the chance to find love.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Victor cut in, still looking at you in that quietly dangerous away, his gaze a heated cloak over your skin.

You stilled. “You wouldn’t?” There was a tremor in your voice, one you hoped went unnoticed.

“I think, regardless of how busy we are, however reluctant…love finds us when it has to,” he said, his voice deep, unwavering, and you forgot how to breathe. Somehow, despite doing your best to avoid it, you had wound up on the proverbial cliff’s edge.

And it was time to take a leap.

“Victor...have you ever been in love?” you asked, part of you ready for his outrage, for him to brush it off with a roll of his eyes, and the other curling up in fear at the thought of the answer he might really give you.

He hummed, tightening his grip on your hand when you tried to tug it back, searching your face. His thumb swept over your knuckles, rubbing gently, and you wondered if he was preparing you for heartbreak.

“Yes. I have.”

Kiki @kikiki

@smilingwillow WHAT THE FUCK

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Anna @miracletv

@kikiki Language.

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Kiki @kikiki

‎@miracletv did you see the episode?? im going to collapse WHERE IS BOSS @miracley/n

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raspberrydream @berryberry

DID HE JUST???? OH MY GOD @headaccs DID YOU SEE THIS? ARE YOU OKAY? #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

THIS MAD LAD ACTUALLY DID IT. @berryberry I will never recover from this #HopefullyYours

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@headaccs @berryberry He just said he’s been in love before. He didn’t say he’s in love with her lol

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@hotsauce what will it take for you to finally see the light

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mintmadness @mintsallover

I could listen to this man talk all day. Y/n, you’re one lucky girl <3 #HopefullyYours

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cocoloco @chocolatedelite

I’m late to the party but lmao at everyone freaking out. Uhhh honestly I’m not sure. These things are usually scripted. They could just be faking it. #HopefullyYours

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@chocolatedelite Thank you!!!!

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victorshoe @mrsli

My heart is broken but their cuteness has mended it. I’ll give them my blessings. #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

oh thank god they just uploaded the individual bits!!! THANK YOU @jtv

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bandanaman @headaccs

...wait

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raspberrydream @berryberry

‎‎omfg

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bandanaman @headaccs

????? IS THAT IT??? COME BACK @jtv that can't be it!!

Thank you for reading!

MC/You: it’s a fake date. chill.

Victor: Goldman I need NINE roses and an outfit that makes me look like a sex god I HAVE A DATE

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc fanfic #mr love queen's choice #mr love li zeyan #mlqc victor x reader #queue are my sunshine

374 notes · View notes

punkgrogg · 4 years

Text

Doorway Duo pt.2

Pairing: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader, Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Hybrid!BTS, Non idol AU, fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Summary: Y/n was abandoned by her long time boyfriend and moves back home to help prepare for the baby. She’s surprised to find two unfamiliar hybrids at her house.

Length: 2,456 words

Notes: Sorry for the long wait, this summer has been one disaster and tragedy (my grandpa, great grandma, and college friend have all passed) after another but I’m almost finished with part 3 so I’ll be posting that in the next couple of days.

Date posted: 7/26/2020

Pregnancy sucks. My back hurts and my feet are sore after just a few hours walking. Not to mention the overall discomfort of my body swelling up to accommodate the new human developing inside of it. Luckily I only have about three more months of this left and I could finally hold my baby boy. Yeah, Hobi was right. He claimed that it was his hybrid genes that made him privy to this information but Kook calls bullshit- he and Tae had been hoping it was a girl.

In the past two months of staying back home, I’ve seemed to bond super well with the two new hybrids. At first, it was easy to become friends with Tae, he was overly friendly and followed me around after our first-day meeting. Once my baby bump became prominent I could keep him away; he spent most of his waking hours cooing at my stomach. I had to work a bit harder to get Jungkook to open up to me and all it took was a few weeks of calling Taehyung his nickname. Apparently, he was just shy and wanted to be my friend also but he was jealous that Tae got to be called Tae. I called him Kook since then and all shyness flew out the door. He and Tae were both so energized all the time and both so caring. Today they insisted on accompanying me to the store because they didn’t want me to accidentally overwork myself. Hobi tagged along too, not wanting to be left behind at the house alone.

I was flanked by both Jungkook and Taehyung the moment we entered the store but this is something I've had to get used to. Another thing I’ve had to get used to is that Taehyung was very touchy. His hands are always in contact with some part of my body and today he had wrapped his arm around my waist and his fingers traced small circles into my side as we strolled down the aisles. Usually, I wasn’t someone who liked to be held all the time but with Tae, it never bothered me, it was actually comforting most of the time. Hobi strolled a few feet ahead of us while he was bickering with Taehyung over the chips that were tossed into the cart. The great chip debate happened every time we went to the store, Hoseok had a weird taste when it came to snacks and my other brothers and I had long gotten over it.

Jungkook was hovering on my right- so close that our knuckles brushed as we walked- his presence a constant that I’ve become accustomed to these last few weeks. He was back to his quiet guy persona, it probably would stay this way until we got home. Hobi thought it was funny when we went out in public together- said that Jungkook changes gear into high alert one I became a variable. It was hard for me to imagine him outside of the two versions of him that I knew, the quiet and shy versus the playful and relaxed. At home, Jungkook was the one to cajole me into chasing him throughout the house but whenever I turn a corner too fast he’s there with arms outstretched to catch me.

Taehyung too acted a bit differently when we went out, usually he was a bundle of energy and excitement that couldn’t be contained but in public, he seemed to change into a startling somber man who would then meld himself to my side once out the door. I guess this fed into his protective instincts as well. Tae was the one who was most concerned with my well being in the house. He responded to every grunt and whimper I’ve made since I’ve moved in. He forced me into weekly self-care nights and rushed to prevent me from overworking myself no matter the task. I would think that it was charming normally but because of him, I’ve been banned from dish duty after accidentally cutting my finger after moving in.

My parents had warned me that the three hybrids in the house might change a bit while the pregnancy developed but if I were uncomfortable then I should let them know right away. Hoseok was the same Hoseok as ever- a beam of sunshine in my monotonous life. He has spent increasingly more time outside of our house - going on dates with some mysterious guy. He has stopped teasing me a much this past week or two and instead teases Jungkook and Taehyung twice as much. Jungkook and Tae have obviously turned into my pseudo bodyguards and that can probably be chalked up to their hybrid instincts.

Why else would these two hang onto me so closely? I thought to myself as I focused on a sign for a buy one get one half off deal for oatmeal. Dad liked oats in the morning but there didn’t seem to be any of his favored cinnamon flavors. Taehyung suddenly ripped me out of my peaceful bubble by tugging me into his side abruptly. Jungkook stood in front of me while I could hear Hoseok apologize profusely. Both Taehyung and Jungkook had their faces twisted into scowls as they peered down at the man huddled on the floor. He looked familiar.

His curly blonde hair seemed to be what struck me with a name on the tip of my tongue. I couldn’t quite place him, how many blonde men did I know? Not many other than that Jimin guy Hobi brought around since high school. I couldn’t place him until he glanced over where I was peeking out over Jungkook’s shoulder. His eyes were blue, an icy pale blue that was the same color as his. This was Henry’s little brother. Was it Darren? Or maybe David? It was hard to recall as Henry was coles with his family. Especially after their parents divorced and He had been the only child to go live with his dad. I had only met David a few times over the almost six years we had been together.

“Y/n?” He asked, his eyes lighting up in recognition. Hobi- who was interrupted mid apology for ramming into him with the cart- looked back at me with inquisitive eyes. Taehyung tried to pull me closer to his side but this once I resisted and stepped from the overwhelming protection of the Duo.

“David? Last I saw you, you were a scrawny little beanpole.” I teased light-heartedly as I stood next to Hobi. David’s cheeks flushed as he stood up and straightened out his clothes.

“Uh, well, I grew up. It’s been three years so how’s it been going? Henry said you guys split up.” His eyes seemed to be glued to my stomach. My stomach was big, especially for how far along I was at only six months of my pregnancy but I was already passing the size of a watermelon. My hands came up to cradle my stomach.

I forced a smile, “Yeah, we did. It’s been about six months, I think? I’ve been doing good though.”

It was then that my blood ran cold. Rounding the corner behind David was the man I never wanted to see again. Henry. These last few months haven’t fully rid me of the sting of abandonment and no matter how much I’ve been coddled - it could never erase the pain and loneliness that I’ve had to overcome. I could feel my brother tense up beside and his threats to ‘rip out his throat’ came ringing in the back of my head. I calmly reached out and held onto his forearm gently.

Henry’s attention was fully focused on the bakery box in his hands and he only glanced up at his brother. He quickly did a double-take when he noticed that there were five looming figures instead of just the one. He skimmed over the group of strangers until he locked eyes with me. His feet took root and held him back a few feet away as he gawked.

“Baby? That's my baby?” he managed to choke out while his eyes bugged out of his head. David’s jaw dropped and suddenly, with both their gazes trained on me, I felt so much smaller than just a few moments ago. I could feel panic clawing at my throat as it rattled its way out of my chest at the sudden turn of events. That’s until a warm firm hand grasped onto my elbow as the familiar towering presence materialized behind me. Jungkook. His hold quelled my panic almost instantly. I fixed a terse smile at Henry, my face changing a calm disposition.

“No. You were right: there was no way it could be your baby.” I could feel the acid dripping from my lips as I forced a saccharine sweet smile at the asshole.

Henry’s face quickly snapped out of the shocked expression, almost as quickly as his face took on a reddened hue. “So you were a fucking whore and got knocked up by some hybrid? Should have known, your family is way too close to those fucking freaks.” He kept his eyes trained on Jungkook’s hand holding onto me.

“Oh, I knew you were a piece of shit the first time she brought you home.” Hoseok laughed unamused. He abandoned the cart only to stalk towards Henry, stopping with barely six inches left between the two. “The only thing keeping me from tearing you limb from limb right now is the fact that she begged me to, One more comment from your limp-dicked self will be more than enough to break my self-control. This is the last time you’ll ever speak to her or her children. Understood?” Henry nodded quickly with a face painted in fear.

Taehyung stepped forward and turned the cart around. Jungkook tugged me along and rubbed his hand on my arm in comfort. Tae swiped a few boxes of snack cake of the shelf as we hurried away and a sudden ringing sound of a slap rang out through the aisle. No-one turned around. As we approached the lines for check out I could hear the squeaking of Hobi’s sneakers as he ran to catch up with us. His hands replaced Jungkook’s as he tugged me into his chest.

He tucked my head under his chin and held me tightly, so tight that he managed to squeeze out the few tears I was managing to fight back. He only tightened his grasp as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. He let go momentarily to wrench his wallet out of his back pocket so he could exchange it for keys from Jungkook. He pulled me out from under the judging stares of the cashiers and led me to the parking lot. As we neared the car he hugged me closer to his side so he could press his cheek against the top of my head.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“No. I’m sorry I let you be with that asshole. I failed as a big brother.” he sighed despondently and I could feel the guilt twisting my stomach into knots.

“No, you’re the best one I got. I’m sorry he said that about you, I’ve never heard him say anything like that before. I love you Hobi, you’re my sunshine.” I cried as I held onto his shirt.

“I know you don’t think of me that way or the guys. I can remember you fighting punks like that at the park growing up. His dumbass will never affect how much I love my snot-nosed baby sister.” he pulled away and leveled me with a soft smile, forcing me to return one.

“Did you hit him? You could get in a lot of trouble.” I bit onto my lip as I imagined the terrible consequences. He could lose his job at the shelter. He could be marked aggressively by the government and taken away. He could be arrested.

His warm soft hands squished my cheeks as he made me face him. “Aw, is our little Y/n worried about her big brother? Don’t worry my princess, bubby didn’t hurt him. His brother slapped the socks off him. I was shocked.” His blinding smile finally returned and could hear a cart being pushed behind us. I turned to see Taehyung standing on the front of the cart with a big smile as he waved to us; Jungkook was running full speed at the handle of the cart.

I laughed at the two idiots as they barely managed to stop before crashing into my car. Taehyung’s hands flew forward to brace himself against the trunk. Jungkook laughed heartily as Taehyung started to yell at him for almost squishing him.

“Kook, are you driving us back?” I asked to save him from the snow leopard. He nodded as Hobi tossed him the keys. Kook popped the trunk while Hobi and Tae tossed in the few bags of groceries. Jungkook steered away from the cart and we all filed into the car wordlessly. I was in the passenger seat with Hobi behind me. There seemed to be a heavy curtain of silence surrounding us all.

“Taehyung, Jungkook, I’m sorry for what Henry said.” I pointedly kept my attention at the fast-changing scenery. They were both silent until I could feel hot breath against my neck. A chin rested on my shoulder while a nose pressed itself between my ear and jawline.

“Why are you sorry? Did you teach him to hate hybrids?” Tae’s deep voice was just barely louder than a whisper but it echoed in my heart. I whipped my head towards him, my eyebrows pinched together harshly, only to see the grin plastered on his face.

“You know I don’t think like that. Don’t tease me like that, I was apologizing because you guys don’t deserve to be spoken to like that. You’re people; kind, caring people.” I glared at him with no heat while his smile only widened.

“We do know, that’s why we weren’t mad. It's something that happens and we can’t help that we’re used to it. We were actually pissed at that asshat.” Jungkook harrumphed in agreement and I could feel the knot loosen in my stomach.

“I’ve been trying to join Team Hate Henry since we moved in and Hoseok hasn’t allowed it. I bet Namjoon will let us in now.” Jungkook smirked back at Hobi who squeaked in protest.

“Namjoon cannot know that we met with him. He would actually kill him.” I interjected, my fear helping me envision Joonie in an orange jumpsuit.

Jungkook side-eyed me before smirking at me, “ Would that be so bad?”

Tag list! just let me know if you want added.

@jelly-fishy-babie @nomimits7 @littlewolfieposts

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lucifers-horror-harem · 4 years

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Kinktober Day 13: Voyeurism with Max Sonnen

Okay so a bit of a preamble with this one here. For those of you who have known me on my main blog, you’re probably aware of my Jeffrey Dean Morgan thirst across his many characters, Max from The Resident being one of them. I’ve chosen to bring him to this blog because I think he would fit in better with the other characters I write here, mostly because the way I view him is darker than how other people have viewed him in the past. I’ve also been talking with my dear friend @kijilinn, who wrote the first Max fic I ever read that we both missed Max and writing about him, so she allowed me to use the last name she gave him in that fic as a way to better tag him as his own character. So anyways, aside from this big huge explanation I really hope you enjoy my writing for Max. I kept this story as kind of an introduction to Max and The Resident as I’m not sure how many people have seen it. Hope you all enjoy <3

Warnings: Voyeurism, stalking, and brief breeding kink mention

Max Sonnen x AFAB Reader

Max knew since he first saw you in the little cafe across the street from his apartment building that you were the one. You always spent your mornings in the cafe, drinking coffee with whatever flavored creamer you felt like that morning, munching on some sweet pastry as you typed away on your laptop. Your hands were so fast, fingers nimbly moving across the keys as Max imagined you were trying to keep up with your hurried thoughts. He couldn’t get enough of how small your hands were, and longed for the day when he could hold them in his.

That’s why when he overheard you talking to a friend on the phone that you were looking for a new place to stay he knew he needed to act fast. You couldn’t say no to what he could offer, a beautiful spacious apartment with a gorgeous view of the city. Hardwood floors and antique lighting fixtures on the walls, a place that he would offer at such a reasonable price that there was no way you could refuse.

So after waiting many long days for you to notice the tenant wanted ads on the cafe cork board, you finally had come to see the apartment, no, to see him. He couldn’t help but watch as you took in every inch of the apartment with awe, turning to him every once and a while and asking again if you had heard the amount right. You were so precious, your smile warming his core as he essentially handed you the answer to all of your problems on a silver platter.

He made sure to always be around when you needed him. How cute it was when you acted like helping you was a chore, when really it’s all he could imagine himself doing. The smell of your shampoo always clung to him, making him desperate to bury his nose in your hair. But that was still too early.

Max noticed your sidelong glances, not certain if you were feeling the same way he did about you but taking advantage of that opportunity anyway. You were always hesitant to go further, not wanting to make the landlord-tenant relationship strained. But only if you knew how willing he was to throw all of that out the window if he could put a ring on your finger right now. He needed you so desperately, and when you weren’t able to make time for him, he found other ways.

The renovations he had done on his building weren’t simply to modernize it for prospective tenants. He had always been an exceptional handyman, working on this building with his grandfather August for as long as he could remember, and he knew each floor inside and out. He discovered that he could connect his room to yours with a hidden passage within the walls of the apartment. He could see you any time he missed you, which was every time you weren’t beside him.

He had initially felt bad about the two way mirror in the bathroom, he didn’t want to invade the privacy of his future bride. But he needed to see. What if you were hurt, he needed to be able to watch over you and protect you. He told himself that’s what the hidden hole in the wall in front of the bathtub was for as well, but even he had to admit there were ulterior motives for that.

He couldn’t resist the curves of your body, how soft your thighs looked as they peeked out of the water while you gave them a scrub. The suds that pooled around your breasts as you washed them as well, imagining himself touching them. How would you react? Would your mouth hang open all prettily as you moaned for him? Would your thighs twitch and your body quiver, that plump bottom lip of yours sucked between your teeth to prevent you from being too loud?

Max hadn’t intended to see you in your most intimate moments until you were with him, he really hadn’t. But he didn’t turn away as your hands would sink beneath the water, your head tilted back as he saw all of these expressive faces he had never witnessed on you before. He needed to see them, see them as you would hopefully moan out his name the way you did as you neared your peak. He certainly hadn’t expected his name to come out of your mouth on a couple of these occasions. You thought of him like that. Max knew it was true and he was even closer to having you all to himself. You wanted him and he wanted you.

One evening, when Max simply had to have more, couldn’t take it anymore, he created a distraction; a thud on the other side of the apartment, courtesy of him banging his fist against the wall. As you dried off and hesitantly wandered to the kitchen to see if something had fallen, he pulled at a hatch in the wall and slunk out, his bare feet touching the cold floor of your bedroom as he slowly circled your bed.

He waited as long as he possibly could until he had to drop to the floor, swiftly sliding under the bed as you entered the room. He watched as your bare feet neared the bed, preparing to climb in. You were so close to him, Max could practically reach out and touch you, but he knew better. Breath held, he watched as your feet disappeared, the bed dipping above him as you settled in.

Max couldn’t help but palm himself through his jeans, not realizing just how tight they had gotten. He bit his lip as he listened to the little sounds you made as you sunk into the mattress, trying to get yourself comfortable enough to drift off. As your breathing slowed, he let out a soft exhale, trying his best not to moan.

Max didn’t know how much longer he could live like this, with you sleeping so soundly alone in your bed when he knew how much you wanted him. He wanted to be the one in bed with you right now, arms wrapped around you as he held you to his chest. He bit his tongue as he imagined how he would get to hear those little moans of yours every night, pleasing you like you deserved to be pleased. How desperately he wanted to put that ring on your finger, take you, his wife, into the bed every night, and rub over your belly as it would eventually begin to swell with his child.

No, he had to stop thinking about that right now. He couldn’t get carried away. You would come to him in time. If he had to come up with more excuses to be around you, then so be it. He would do anything in his power to ease your worries and take care of you for as long as you both lived. Because you loved him, after all, whether you were fully aware of it yet or not.

#max sonnen x reader #max sonnen #slasher x reader #the resident

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sunflower-swan · 4 years

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Wolfstar Chapter 2

A/N: Here’s what you need to know: I created this story for Writer’s Month 2020. Every day is a new prompt, and therefore a new chapter. This is an AU Wolfstar where Remus is a tattoo artist next door to Sirius who manages a flower shop. James and Lily are alive in this universe and own a coffee shop across the street. And to make parts of the story work with the prompts, Remus is about 10 years older than Sirius. It also takes place more or less in present time, minus coronavirus.

This is chapter 2 of a multi-chapter work. If you’d like to start from the beginning, here is chapter 1.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. I just like to play with them.

Day 2 Prompt: Quarantine

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1150

Tags: language, original character, angst

Chapter Two

Remus

Lumineers, “Ho Hey”

I been trying to do it right

(Hey) I been living a lonely life

(Ho) I been sleepin' here instead

(Hey) I been sleepin' in my bed

(Ho) I been sleepin' in my bed (hey ho)

“Remus! Sirius!” James roared from behind the counter as the pair walked into Potter’s Wheel. “How’s it going?” He bounced around the counter to embrace Sirius in a hug like a brother.

“Siwus!” James’ young son Harry came running through the back door with his mother hot on his tail. The boy jumped into Sirius' arms.

“Hiya, squirt!” Sirius ruffled the boys' unruly hair. “Alright there, Lils?” he asked the mother.

“He just doesn’t stop moving!” Lily exclaimed. “I look away for one second, and POOF!” she threw her hands into the air, “he’s gone.”

Remus chuckled to himself, and sat down at a nearby table. The warm ambiance of the place had filled him with contentment from the first time he visited. With each successive visit over the past 18 months, he felt more at home than he would have believed possible before.

James and Lily were Sirius’ oldest and dearest friends, and he watched the interaction between them with mild interest. Sirius' happiness and affection for his friends and their child were so evident on his face. He had a light in his eyes that Remus found intoxicating. Oh, shit. Lily was smirking at him with a knowing look. She caught me staring. Remus quickly looked down at his hands. Yeah, you don’t look guilty at all now.

Sirius sat down across from him, holding Harry in his lap. “What’s good today, Lily?”

“Got a Creamy Thai Carrot Soup with Basil. Picked the ingredients from our vegetable garden this morning.”

“Well, doesn’t get much better than that. Does it?” he asked Harry and tickled him.

“Uncle Siwus!” Harry giggled. “Stop it!” Harry wriggled out of Sirius’ lap and went to his mother.

“What about you Remus?”

“Carrot soup sounds great. And a slice of your amazing chocolate cake if you have some.”

Lily gave him a wink and herded Harry into the back room with her.

“I don’t know how you eat so much chocolate and stay so thin.” Sirius pointed a finger at his companion. “Most men your age have at least a little bit of a belly, even if they do take care of themselves.”

Remus shrugged in response.

“It’s not natural.” Sirius narrowed his eyes and laughed.

“Good metabolism,” was all Remus offered in reply.

The little bell attached to the front door rang. Remus sniffed the air and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Sirius turned to see who had come in. “Silas!” He stood to greet his boyfriend with a hug and a chaste kiss on the lips.

Remus looked away from the display of affection. Be nice, he reminded himself. This kid has done nothing to you. If only his gut would listen to his brain.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked.

“I got done with training early, so I thought I'd surprise you. When you weren’t at the shop, I figured I’d look here,” Silas explained. “Alright there, Remus?”

“Just peachy, Silas,” Remus responded with a tight smile.

“We’re having some soup. Sit down,” Sirius gestured toward their table. “Then you and I can hang out at the shop a bit. I have a couple more orders to finish today.”

Silas sat as Lily arrived with the soup and Remus’ cake. “Hey, Silas,” she said.

“Hey, Lily.”

“Silas will have some soup, too, Lils,” Sirius stated.

“No problem,” Lily said with a smile, and skipped away.

“That’s a big piece of chocolate cake, Remus,” Silas commented. “You going to eat that all yourself?”

“That was the plan,” Remus responded in a flat tone. Not like it’s any of your fucking business, mate.

“I hope when I’m your age I can still eat whatever I want and look as good as you.”

Remus shoved a huge piece of cake into his mouth to resist the sarcastic retort that was dying to fly off his tongue.

Sirius barked, “That’s what I was just saying to him!”

Yeah, but when you said it, it was cute. Remus thought to himself. When this imbecile says it, I want to smack him.

Lily returned again, this time with Silas’ soup, and water for the three of them. “If you need anything, just give me a holler,” she said as she walked away.

How quickly can I eat this food, and get away from Silas, without seeming rude? Remus wondered, as he blew across a spoonful of soup before placing it in his mouth.

Interrupting his thoughts, Silas asked, “So Remus, how come I’ve never seen you with anyone? I mean, no girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

“Ahem,” Remus cleared his throat, “I … don’t date.” Nosy little bugger.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t date’?” Sirius asked with an incredulous look. “Everybody needs somebody, Remus,” he added in a matter of fact way.

“Yeah,” Silas continued, placing an arm around Sirius’ shoulders. “Someone to worry about you, care for you,

If this fucking soup wasn’t so hot, then I would tip it from the bowl straight into my mouth in order to get the hell out of here. “I don’t need another person to make me feel complete. I am a complete person on my own,” Remus explained. “I don’t date anymore would be more accurate. I’m in a self-imposed romantic …” Remus paused, searching for an appropriate term. “... quarantine, if you will.” It’s too soon, and I’m too dangerous to be in a relationship anyway.

“Romantic … quarantine?” Sirius repeated. “Wha’ … why?”

Remus placed both hands flat to the table. Annoyance flared within him as his muscles tensed. “Um … because I am.” Remus wiped his face with a napkin and rose. “I need to get back to the shop. Thanks for the food.” He strode toward the door, “Tell James and Lily for me that the soup and cake were delicious.”

Remus stalked across the street to his tattoo parlor. He unlocked the door and slammed it behind him, willing his breathing and heart rate to slow. What is it with that guy? Remus had asked himself this question many times since the relationship began. It’s not like Silas was a ‘bad person.’ But something put Remus on edge when he was around. His instincts were usually spot on, so he couldn’t understand this unexplainable agitation.

Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he started the nightly ritual of cleaning up the tattoo parlor. By hand tonight. His emotions were running a little high to trust he wouldn’t bollock something up if he tried to use magic.

He finished his cleaning a few hours later. His irritation had subsided some time ago through the physical labor. Stepping outside into the darkness to lock the front door, he noticed lights were still on next door in the flower shop. Weird, he thought, looking at his watch. Sirius had said he was working late this week, but even this was a little ridiculous.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

#writersmonth2020 #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #alternate universe #harry potter #fanfiction

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fangirlxwritesx67 · 4 years

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May Be Home, Chapter 11 Word count this chapter: 1950 Catch up here: Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10.

Characters: au rockstar!Dean Winchester x OFC Sasha. Song: Sounds of Someday, Radio Company Music

Tags: 18+, sex, smut, lots and lots of m/f sex in different ways (fingering, oral, penetrative) in different places (bed, table, car, shower), no condoms ever, enthusiastic consent, Daddy kink, language, lots of alcohol, sexy eating, etc

"Dean," she blurted. "What the hell?"

"Sasha," his eyes lit up just seeing her again. "You wouldn't answer my texts anymore but I need to talk to you. So here I am."

Sasha went weak-kneed and melty just seeing him again. He looked rough as if he hadn't slept in days. At the same time, those eyes, that mouth - she could never resist him. She wanted to hate him, wanted to make him pay; but the truth was, if anything, she hated herself for falling so quickly and completely for him.

Faced with Dean again, seeing how serious he was, Sasha felt her heart soften. She would've launched herself into his arms, except that suddenly Lee was beside her.

"Hey," he said. "Is this the guy that's been bothering you?"

Dean put his hands up in a defenseless gesture. "Hey, no, she knows me, I just wanna talk, okay?"

Lee looked from Dean to Sasha, baffled but still protective. "Sasha? Are you okay talking to him?”

“It’s okay, Lee, I’m going to give this guy five minutes.” Sasha turned towards Dean.

“You’d better give me one hell of an explanation because these guys are ready to take you out back and kick your ass.”

His eyes flicked towards Lee and a couple of the cooks who were suddenly very present and glaring at him.

She slid into the booth across from Dean, keeping the table between them.

Dean reached across the table towards her, then stopped and wound his fingers together. “Sasha, I never meant to hurt you. I would never hurt you on purpose.”

“On purpose or not,” she said plainly. “You did.”

Dean took a deep breath. “The next time I had a weekend away, you were the only girl I asked for. I wanted us to have the time to figure out what we were doing, what all this meant. But you never showed up. When I asked, Rowena told me you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. So I left. I wasn’t interested in anyone but you.”

“So you thought I was just there for a good time? I didn't matter to you - we didn’t matter - and you believed I felt the same way?”

“I didn’t have any idea,” Dean confessed, confusion creasing his face. “I thought we had some feelings for one another, but I also knew that you had signed a contract. Everything was supposed to be no-strings-attached. I didn’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Take advantage of me? Dean, I’ve been yours for the taking from the very beginning.”

“I didn’t know-” Dean began, his voice lost and pleading.

“I didn’t know, I didn’t know,” Sasha’s voice trailed away, tired and overwhelmed. “After everything we did together, after all of the things we shared... You can’t just come in here and tell me you didn’t know."

Dean stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. He held out one hand, beseechingly. Sasha looked away and crossed her arms.

"Sasha, please. I never meant to hurt you."

"Well, you did." Pain turned into anger as words tumbled out. "You meant so much to me. We meant so much. You can't erase all those weeks we've spent apart. You can't show up and just undo how bad you've hurt me by saying you ‘didn't know’."

Dean swallowed hard and blinked.

"You’ve had your five minutes. Now give me time." Sasha's voice was breaking but her chin was set. She jumped to her feet. “Get out Dean, get the fuck out.”

“Okay.” Dean turned and walked away slowly as if giving her a chance to change her mind.

He looked broken and alone, with his head hung low and his shoulders slumped. Her heart ached just looking at him. She wanted to run after him, to beg him to stay, but she couldn’t give in, not with her friends there to help keep her strong.

Lee strode up next to her. “You tell him, Sash,” he murmured.

Sasha watched until the door closed behind Dean. Then she sank back down into the booth, buried her face in her arms, and burst into tears.

Later that night, Dean sent her one more text.

I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to see you again.

She ignored it.

...

Sasha woke up the next morning to a knock on her door. She opened it to see a flower delivery person behind the biggest bouquet of red roses she had ever seen in her life.

The card said simply: Sweetheart Baby girl Sasha Please Xoxo, Dean

Sasha couldn't help the smile that crossed her face, but she grabbed her phone and texted: Roses Really, Dean?

I know roses are dumb. I'm just trying to show you how serious I am. Please.

Please, what?

Please, give me another chance.

Why?

I’m crazy for you, Sasha I’ve never met anyone like you I’ll do anything, anything you want Just to have you in my life again

Why now?

I told you I missed you the moment you left. Not a day went by that I didn’t want to talk to you I couldn't get ahold of you and didn't know where to find you

Why didn’t you even try to call me, Dean?

I thought you didn’t want to hear from me again. I like you but I also respect you I’m not going to stalk you or try to force your hand.

Rowena and Sam, right. If you're going to lie to a girl, at least tell a lie that makes sense.

They’re my family. I had no reason to doubt them. So, what changed your mind?

A week ago, Rowena walked into my music studio, handed me your number, and told me to call you. She said that you’d confirm it. I called anyway because I had to hear it from you.

Hear what?

That you weren’t interested That you didn’t want me Tell me and I’ll never bother you again.

You know I can’t, Dean.

Then please give me another chance. Sasha, please.

Sasha wasn’t ready to answer, didn’t know what to say. So she put her phone down.

She was surprised when her phone rang a few minutes later and it was not Dean but Rowena. She rolled her eyes but answered. Maybe she could find out a little more about what was really going on.

"It seems that Sam and I owe you an explanation." Her words were as quick as ever. "Please can we meet for tea?"

Sasha was off work, so she agreed. She was hurt and confused and curious all at once. Maybe Dean had been telling the truth. Maybe Rowena and Sam would back up his story.

When she got to the coffee shop, they were already there; Sam in a chair that looked too small for him, coffee cup dwarfed by his hand, and Rowena, daintily sipping from a mug of tea.

Sasha skipped the drinks altogether and sat right down in front of them. "Did Dean send you?"

The pair looked at one another in confusion before shaking their heads.

Rowena tossed her head a little and huffed. "Dean doesn't send me anywhere."

"But what do you mean?" asked Sam.

"Dean’s been texting me non-stop, trying to convince me to, I don't know, give him another chance," Sasha's tone was guarded. "He told me that you two were the reason he never called or texted me before."

Rowena nodded slowly.

“He did ask for me?” Sasha’s heart rose just a little. “And you told him I was not only unavailable but uninterested?”

“That is true,” Rowena admitted.

“How dare you?” Sasha’s voice was rising. “What gives you the right to manipulate us, both of us, like this?”

Sam spoke up then. “The whole thing with the girls’ weekends and Dean was supposed to be fun, and safe. He wasn't supposed to fall in love.”

“But you were different,” his voice was oddly soft. “The minute you left last time, he started asking for you again. We didn’t have any idea what your intentions were. Girls have lied to him, tried to blackmail him. We are his family. We tried to protect him.”

“That’s why we didn’t give him your number,” Rowena added. “We thought he would move on, forget you.” “But the opposite happened,” Sam continued, shaking his head slowly. “I've never seen my brother like this. He doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep. He's supposed to be writing new songs. But he doesn't. He can't. All he can think about is you.”

"He wouldn't stop talking about you,” Rowena chimed in. “We arranged another weekend and he left when you weren't there. We finally agreed-” she paused and looked at Sam. He nodded in agreement. “We agreed to give him your number. I calculated enough time had passed that you would be over him, and send him on his way.”

“There is not enough time in the world for me to get over Dean,” Sasha answered, the words falling from her lips before she could stop them.

“I know.” A smug smile curled Rowena’s lips even as she rolled her eyes. "But now, you’re driving him crazy. Girl, he’s gone on you. He's positively pitiful."

Sasha looked from one to the other. "So Dean didn't put you up to this?"

They both shook their heads.

"Shit, no, we just wanted you to know the truth so you can decide what to do about Dean,” Sam answered. “He’s my brother, no one knows him like I do, and I’ve never seen him like this. He’s happy with you and inconsolable without you. We had to try and make things right.”

The two of them stood up to leave but Rowena turned back and placed one fine hand on Sasha's arm. "Dean loves you, you know. I wouldn't throw that away."

Sasha was left speechless. So much information, so many questions answered at once. Dean had been telling the truth; he hadn’t forgotten her or intended to hurt her. Their time together had meant something to him, too. But all she could hear were Rowena's parting words, over and over in her mind: "Dean loves you."

...

When she got to her car, Sasha checked her phone and saw she had another burst of texts from Dean. He must've messaged while she was talking to his brother and manager.

Sweetheart, I know you're still mad at me You have every right to be. There’s something I need you to see. Go to my Instagram. Please.

She couldn’t say no. She was curious, and honestly so confused after the things that Sam and Rowena had just confirmed for her. She didn’t know what to think or feel.

Dean's latest post was a 7-second video clip of him performing- wait- was that Sounds of Someday?

Sasha had never seen a recording of it. She had heard that song just once, when Dean had sung it in a crowded blues bar, and the way his eyes met hers across the room made her feel like he was singing just to her.

The caption was a link. She clicked it and opened a video of Dean, what looked like a cell phone video.

"I want to share my latest song with you." His voice sounded desperate and hopeful at once. "This one is for a very special woman. Sweetheart, I hope you see this."

Sasha gasped. In her wildest dreams, she could not have imagined Dean Winchester recording a song for her. But there was no way he was talking to anyone else. Not after this week, not after everything that had happened. Her hands were shaking, and she almost dropped the phone.

,,, Chapter 12 ....

A/N: Thanks everyone for the feedback on the series so far, and especially the last chapter! Thanks especially to my dear beta @thoughtslikeaminefield who said, “You’re done with Dean now; give him a break.” and then came back and said, “I don’t think you’re done with Dean yet; lets dig into him a little more.” I owe you everything hon.

SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons@divadinag @flamencodiva @fookinghelljensensthighs@idreamofplaid @maddiepants@magssteenkamp@onethirstyunicorn @the-chocolate-moose @there-must-be-a-lock@tloveswriting

Dean Curious: @adoptdontshoppets @awesomesusiebstuff@deangirl7695 @deans-baby-momma @mrsjenniferwinchester@stoneyggirl@supersassyprobablysad @wayward-gypsy

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester #actual rockstar jensen ackles #may be home

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p-artsypants · 5 years

Text

Longest Night (13) Resisting

And Marinette had thought Highschool had been hard. Right now, in this moment, she’d give anything to go back to those petty arguments and gossip fueled drama.

But she couldn’t. Instead, she and Adrien were trapped here, being punished, humiliated, tortured, for being heroes, all broadcasted for the world to see. At least she and her kitty were in this together. For now. Whump!Fic

Ao3 | FF.net

Sorry this chapter is a day late. Busy weekend.

I thought I was going back to torture, but I have more I want to tell during this time stretch. Later in this fic, I anticipate there will be a few back to back chapters of torture. Since I won’t always show them from the watcher’s point of view.

—

Alya and Nino returned to school. It was nearing lunch time, but everyone was still in class, allowing Rena Rouge and Carapace to slip into their respective bathrooms undetected.

“Hey pretty girl,” said Trixx sympathetically, “how you doing?”

“I…I’m not great.”

“That’s okay.” The little fox said, nuzzling her cheek. “It’s okay to be upset, especially in this situation. But you’ve got me, Nino, Wayzz, and the parents.”

Alya smiled a little at that. “Thanks Trixx. It’s nice to have encouragement in my pocket.”

The bell rang, indicating that lunch was starting and students would be coming out soon. The fox grinned back and then swooped into his hiding place.

Nino was waiting for her outside, and held out his hand as she approached.

She worried her lip, “hey um…I’m…I’m not sure if I’m up to going to class. After all that…”

“I think we should.” Nino said simply. “Our classmates know what’s happening, and they know how close we are. I think it’s best if we’re around a group of people that can support us, rather than be alone in Adrien’s room.”

She thought about it for a moment, and then agreed. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“Let’s see if we can find a group to tag along with to lunch, huh?”

Coming back into the courtyard, they noticed plenty of schoolmates milling around and chatting. Upper classmen, lower classmen, other classes, they were all just together in the courtyard. But the aura was rather somber.

In one such circle were several students, including Kim, Mylene, Rose, and Juleka (unfortunately, the most gullible group in the class) gathered around a bench.

“Hey guys,” said Nino, approaching. Though his voice stopped when realized someone else was talking.

Lila.

“Of course, the FBI even came to talk to me! All the way from the U.S.! Since I am Ladybug’s best friend, I would be a large target. They thought that maybe Salo would try to use me against them. But as Rena Rouge, I would be able to defend myself. I’m actually stronger than Ladybug and Chat Noir, but that power is exhausting, so I have to just be an auxiliary member.”

Nino cleared his throat, and the group parted like the red sea, revealing Lila who looked smug and not the least bit stricken. Despite what they knew she saw yesterday.

“You guys aren’t actually believing this garbage, are you?” Nino asked with malice.

It’s exactly what Alya was thinking, but she was overcome with so much rage, she wasn’t able to articulate any sentences.

“Well…” began Mylene. “No one knows who Rena Rouge is…”

“It’s not her.” Said Alya, shaking.

“How do you know?” Asked Kim. “Ladybug and Chat Noir don’t know each other’s identities, so maybe whoever gave them their Miraculous also gave Lila one.”

Alya tightened her fist. “I talked to Ladybug about this. Only the Ladybug and Black Cat where given by…the Guardian. Ladybug has dealt all the others. And I’m 100% certain she didn’t give it to you.”

“What’s your proof?” Asked Kim, challenging her.

“What’s hers!?” Alya shrieked. “She admitted to lying about Marinette taking those photos! Why are any of you giving her the time of day?!”

Lila had that faux look of concern on her face. “Why Alya, you mean you didn’t know?”

“…know what?” Alya asked, with her heart in her shoes.

“Marinette’s not really Ladybug. And Adrien isn’t Chat Noir. The stream is a performance piece. I thought, surely you would know! I know the director and he told me all about—“

The next second, Lila was on the ground, again, her nose bleeding like a fountain.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Alya seethed. “You bitch.”

People were backing away from the two quickly, eyes to the sky.

“Alya!” Lila cried out. “You need to calm down! It’s not that big of a deal!”

“You’re…a piece…of shit.” Alya managed out between her grit teeth and heavy sobs. “It is a big deal! I don’t know if you live in some sort of fantasy or delusion, but you will not drag everyone else into it! Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, are in hell, being tortured on live stream and you have—you have the gaul to make it about you! You disgust me! I can’t believe I ever listened to you!”

“Alya!!” Nino shouted, startling her.

But it wasn’t enough warning. A long forgotten chill ran down her spine and purple light covered her vision.

“So, we meet again, Miss Cesaire.” Hawkmoth’s voice was thick with concern, and false comfort.

“No!” Alya shouted, gripping her head. “Leave me alone! I won’t—I won’t listen to you! I—I can’t! They need me!”

“They certainly do. And I’m going to help you save them.”

“I will never work with you! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!”

The butterfly flew out of the fox pendant around her neck, and flapped around in the air innocently. It waited a moment, and then departed from wince it came.

Alya fell to her knees, sobbing. Nino was at her side instantly, holding her and trying to stay calm himself, though he was boiling inside.

No one spoke for a moment, but all were eager to hear who would speak up.

Lila recovered first. “Look Alya. I’m really sorry. I know it’s hard to find out that your friendship with someone...isn’t as mutual as you thought. Maybe Marinette just didn’t tell you. I know her and I don’t see eye to eye after I caught her stalking Adrien, but I swear this all isn’t as horrible as it seems.”

“That’s enough,” a sharp voice spoke.

A young woman, a fellow student, stepped into the group. Usually one to keep her head down, but never one to back away from the fight. And Lila sure looked like the enemy here.

Kagami Tsurugi crossed her arms and stared Lila down with a scowl. “Can’t you see you’re hurting them?”

Lila twitched her eyebrow at the appearance of this new foe. “I don’t know what you mean! Alya’s thinking the worst, but it really is a performance piece. A prank, really.”

“I meant, you’re not just hurting those two, but Adrien and Marinette.”

Lila scoffed. “I just thought everyone deserved the truth!”

“They do!” Kagami barked. “And you’re not giving it to them!”

“I swear I am!”

“Then swear to Mr. Agreste!” Kagami spat. “He called my mother this morning to cancel a meeting, and he was extremely upset. Of course he has no idea where Adrien is, and he’s beside himself!”

“Oh, Mr. Agreste didn’t know about it? I’ll make sure to let him know.”

Kagami barked out a laugh. “You’re really trying to say that Mr. Agreste didn’t know about an activity that Adrien was participating in? One on such a national scale? Yeah right.”

“M-maybe the director forgot to mention it?”

Kagami rolled her eyes. “You’re pathetic. Not only do you refuse to admit to your failures, you refuse to understand that the world doesn’t revolve around you. I thought you were in love with Adrien.”

“I-I-I am! We’re dating! Look!” She took out her phone, where the picture of her kissing Adrien on the cheek shone as her wallpaper.

“You already used that against me.” Kagami said blankly, “that photo is a couple years old now. That’s the only photo of you two together?”

“I-I...I was just—“

“Lying. Wasting everyone’s time. Giving false hope. Taking attention away from where it’s supposed to belong. You scum.”

Lila clenched her fists in anger, and then stalked off in rage.

Kagami sighed, her shoulders releasing from her tight hold.

“That was...really cool.” Nino stated, still kneeling on the ground. Alya wasn’t crying anymore thankfully.

“Thank you, for that.” She stated, wiping her eyes. “I don’t usually have a hard time arguing with people, but this is...” Alya shook her head. “Lila is so good at improvising lies. It makes it impossible to convince people otherwise...Marinette was never able to.”

Kagami held her hands out. “Come on. We’re going to lunch. I’m Kagami Tsurugi.”

“Yeah,” said Alya, automatically taking her hand. “Alya Cesaire.”

“Nino Lahiffe.”

—

Alya and Nino decided to return to the Agreste mansion for lunch, mostly just to check in with Tom and Sabine.

Nathalie looked at the three that entered, and nodded to Kagami. “I hope you all brought your appetites.” She said dryly, leading them to the dining room.

“Huh?”

Inside, there were platters and platters of pastries and breads of all sorts of varieties.

Tom was bringing out another tray from the kitchen. “Oh! You’re back! Please kids, feel free to help yourselves!”

“Did you make all of this, Mr. Dupain?” Asked Nino.

“Ah, Yeah...But, I think I may have gone a bit overboard. I can’t sit still! I know I can’t do anything to help, but I’m just—I can’t just sit around worrying. We’ll be giving whatever we don’t eat to the soup kitchen, but feel free to take whatever you want back with you.” Then he noticed Kagami. “Ah, sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Tom, Marinette’s father.”

“Kagami. Adrien’s friend.”

“Well, I’ll go get Sabine and we’ll all have a proper meal. We’ve got stuff for sandwiches! I’ve got sliced ham and roast beef and mustard and so many cheeses...” he continued to talk as he left the room.

Kagami smiled softly as he left. “Marinette is a lot like her parents then.”

“Yeah, they’re crazy close.” Nino supplied, “I’m surprised they’re taking this so well.”

“You think this is taking it well?” Asked Alya, gesturing to the spread.

Nino shrugged.

They both sat at the table, and glanced through the food. As much as they hated to admit it, they were both hungry from their morning activities.

Despite what they had seen before that.

“It’s okay, Kagami, come and sit down.” Nino beckoned.

The girl nodded at took a seat as well.

Tom returned with yet another platter, of sandwich fixings, before he left again without a word, his mind seemingly in another place.

“So…” began Alya. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but why did you want to have lunch with us?”

“To talk.” Kagami answered simply, cutting into a ciabatta roll with a knife.

“About something specific, or are you just lonely?”

She paused, then answered, “A little of both, I think.” She looked to Alya, who was very much still suffering from the after effects of her near akumatization. “I’ve seen you two the most, on their instagrams. You’re the ones they’re the most close too. I knew if I needed to talk to someone, surely I could trust you.”

Alya offered a sad little smile. “I see. We…we’ll listen if you need us to, but…” She sighed. “It’s hard.”

“I know.” Kagami put her sandwich down, having taken two bites. She wasn’t that hungry anyways. “I thought—I thought I loved Adrien.”

Nino choked on his sandwich. “Oh dude, sorry!” He coughed. “I’m super bad in the love department.”

Kagami shook her head. “I don’t need advice. I just…I’ve been thinking about things. All my life, I’ve had to strive for perfection. Grades, arts, fencing…everything. So, naturally, when it came to having a crush, it fell on Adrien. He was…perfect. Gorgeous, kind, smart, talented…everything I ever could have wanted. To find out that…that this whole time, he’s been Chat Noir…it felt like I was being lied to.”

Nino folded his hands in front of him. “Yeah…it felt like that for me for a little bit. Just long enough for it to sink in that he had hid his identity from me for so long, before it was replaced with worry for his well being.”

Kagami looked at her plate. “You’re a better friend than I. I…I was only angry. I felt deceived. Chat Noir…he’s not bad. He’s a hero, of course, but…he’s reckless, goofy, and just…doesn’t take things seriously. Those I qualities I resent in people.” She rubbed under her eye. “If his secret was more…secret, I guess, more private, that is, I might not have been so angry. Like if he was a closeted alcoholic, or he was a messy person, I might not have been so mad. But because he’s shown to be two different people, so publicly…I felt like I didn’t know who my friend was. Who was the real Adrien? The model, or the superhero?” She shook her head. “Then I realized that I didn’t actually love him at all. I idolized him. I fantasized being together, because I thought we would be good together. But that’s what I get for putting him on a pedestal.

“I realize that saying all of this is…extremely selfish and shallow. Adrien doesn’t deserve that. He needs people that love and support both sides of him, in and out of the mask. Now, more than ever. And…and I know I’m not the only person who’s felt this way. All over the internet, girls are talking about how disappointed they are to find out who he is…if I knew how to hack, I’d erase all those comments before Adrien got the chance to see them. And…and Marinette. She deserves so much of my respect. She…she had, or still has, a crush on Adrien, and she still volunteered to accompany him on a date with me, because he was nervous. She put her own heart on the line for the comfort of her friend. She really is Ladybug.”

“You don’t have to beat yourself up so much.” Said Alya, finally breaking her silence. “You deserve someone that you can love wholly and completely, without their flaws feeling like they’re ‘tainting perfection’.”

“That…would be nice…but it’s not going to happen. I’m sorry if what I said offended you. It know it must be hard to hear someone talk about your friend like that…”

“Do you hate him?” Asked Nino. “Now, with everything you know?”

Kagami shook her head easily. “No. But now, more than ever, I realize that I’ve never really been a good friend. To either of them. So I want to help. In any way I can.”

Alya sighed in relief. “Well…directly, there’s not much we can do. We can watch the streams, and look and listen for clues and report them to investigators. But we don’t have the resources to do more than that.”

“I see…”

“But,” said Alya, with a little more hope in her voice. “There is something we can do. There’s someone out there spreading lies and trying to make this whole thing seem not as bad as it actually is.”

“You mean that Lila girl?”

“Yep. Most of our class knows better, since we were basically all together when the stream went live. But…some are still gullible. We have to stop her now. I took down her interview where she claimed to be Ladybug’s best friend, but a lot of people saw that. No doubt, reporters will try to find her to ask questions. That would…that would be devastating.”

Kagami stood, taking her sandwich and wrapping it up in a napkin. “I will take care of it. It seems like Lila is a sore topic for you.”

“A sore topic is putting it nicely. She incites me to violence.”

“And that doesn’t help anybody.”

“Exactly. Thanks…Sorry we couldn’t really make you feel better about Adrien.” Alya sighed.

But Kagami had a soft smile on her face. “I’ll get over it myself. For now, I just want to do what’s right.” She nodded her head. “Give my thanks to Mr. Dupain for the sandwich. The bread is fantastic.”

It was at that moment that Tom came back out, this time with a stack of boxes. “Oh are you leaving? Here, take this and fill it with whatever looks good. Take it home for your family.”

Kagami couldn’t help but giggle a little. The man was so warm and kind.

It was reassuring to know that when Adrien and Marinette got out, they’d have a man like him to take care of them.

Not that she thought badly of Gabriel, of course. But she couldn’t imagine him having good bedside manners.

She would also need to work on her stoic disposition. Anything to get Adrien to smile again.

—

After lunch, Alya and Nino returned to school. Strengthened by her conversation with Kagami, Alya felt a little better. She would go and talk to the other classmates to see what they were believing in this mess.

Nino walked with her, holding her hand. Though he didn’t say much until they reached the locker room. “Hey Al?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“What…what did Hawkmoth say to you earlier? Do you remember?”

She closed her locker, biting her lip in thought. “I do. It’s just…it’s weird.”

“What?”

“He called me by my name. I was sure that he addressed people as their akumatized names.”

“Oh? What else did he say?”

“I told him to go away, and that they needed me. He said ‘indeed they do, and I want to help you find them.’”

Nino frowned in thought. “That…that is weird. And you’d think he’d have plenty of people to akumatize. Watching the stream had been more upsetting than listening to Lila.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Alya took out her phone and took down some notes. “I wonder…what Hawkmoth is thinking.”

“He’s probably thinking of the best way to get those miraculous while causing the least amount of damage, since there is no Ladybug to fix things.”

She typed it out. “That’s a good theory. For now, we’ll keep our eyes peeled for akumas. He ought to be looking for another victim soon.” She turned to leave the room, but managed to bump into someone, knocking their books out of their hands.

“I’m so sorry!” Alya gasped.

“It’s fine Alya.” Said the girl. Though Alya didn’t recognize her at first. Was it another new student?

Blonde hair tied up in a messy bun, track pants, and a hoodie.

“Do I know you?” Alya asked.

The other student looked up with a weak glare. “Oh please, I know I look horrible. But it’s not that bad.”

Alya’s eyes blew wide. “Chloe?”

“Who else?”

“I just…I’ve never seen you without makeup before. It was…jarring.”

“Yeah well…I didn’t feel like putting on makeup, or doing my hair, or wearing a cute outfit…because…because Adrien and Marinette probably haven’t gotten to even take a shower, or—or brush their hair…” She let out a sob.

“Oh Chloe…” Alya found herself saying with great sympathy.

“No. Don’t talk to me like that. Please just…keep being sassy. Let me have some normalcy for a little while.”

“Okay.” Agreed Alya. She cleared her throat. “Uh, geez Chloe, can you fit any more rats up in that bun?”

Chloe’s response was watery. “Can you fit any more in yours?”

Alya gave her a little smile. “We’ll work on it.”

—

In the classroom, Alya was swarmed by classmates, all running to hug her. Rose was bawling her eyes out. “Alya! I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have listened to Lila! I was—I was just so scared for Marinette and Adrien and to hear that they weren’t actually in trouble was so nice and-and—!”

Alya hugged her tightly. “It’s okay Rose. I understand. I almost wanted to believe her too. But…That’s not fair to Adrien and Marinette.”

“I feel stupid,” said Kim. “For even giving her any attention. It’s not gonna happen again.”

“What did that bitch say this time?” asked Chloe.

“She was trying to convince people that Adrien and Marinette weren’t actually being tortured. That they weren’t actually Ladybug and Chat Noir, and that they were only doing a performance piece. When Alya called her out, Lila kept lying and Alya almost got akumatized.”

Chloe seethed. “No one does that to my Adrikins! Of course he’s Chat Noir! How could anyone doubt that he’s so selfless and caring and wonderful and—he’s a hero! And Dupain-Cheng—!” Her voice choked on a sob. “My daddy will be hearing about this! I’ll get her banished from the city! No! The country!”

Alya had the smallest hint of a smile at that. “Now that, is something I’d like to see.”

“Let’s all make a pact.” Said Nathaniel.

“Yeah, a blood oath.” Said Alix, with gusto.

“No…” Nathaniel clarified. “I mean, let’s just all swear from here on out to take everything Lila says with a grain of salt, and to do whatever we can to support Adrien and Marinette, now and when they get out…especially Marinette.”

Congratulations Lila, you made good on your threat. You’ve turned everyone against me, just like you said you would. But I’m ending things on my own terms. If you ever need me again, think twice.

Everyone seemed to remember her final words to them collectively. She only delivered them two days ago, but it already felt so long ago.

“Didn’t Marinette say something about a threat?” Asked Alix, aloud.

“…maybe…there’s more to Lila than we thought.”

Juleka broke the silence, standing up and looking at her phone. “Uh, Alya…? Have you updated your blog?”

“No, I haven’t even looked at it since this all happened. Why?”

“Uh…you should…”

Quickly, Alya took out her phone and opened her blog tab.

Right there on the front page, where everyone would see it, was a brand new post that she hadn’t written at all. It was short, but the contents were chilling.

There was a link. And the caption stated, “Hawkmoth. We need to talk. —Salo.”

—

I made Kagami kind of shallow. But I’m basing it off her behavior in Onee-chan.

And I’m going camping in a few days, so I’m taking a week off of this story. Who knows when the next update will be? Not me!

#longest night #miraculous ladybug #ml #ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #kagami tsurugi #fanfiction #adrinette #djwifi #chloe bourgeois

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nikkalia · 5 years

Text

Pops in the Park

TITLE: Pops in the Park

AUTHOR: Nikkalia

PAIRING: Tom/OFC

RATING: M

SUMMARY: This is the result of a conversation on Discord about Loki!Tom crashing a concert. It went downhill from there... Dedicated to my darling @igotloki

NOTES/WARNINGS: (kinks, triggers, general warnings.) Smut, which is really difficult to write in first person for some reason...

TAGS: @igotloki @fandom-and-feminism @mrshiddleston-uk @fadingcoast @mischievousbellerina

NOTES: Someone remind me to fix the hashtags later?

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming... No,” I whispered to no one. Speeches make me nervous and you could definitely hear it in my voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for joining us tonight...this evening. Ugh, why do they make me do this?”

“Because Anthony Daniels canceled when it wasn’t all about Star Wars,” Mike answered, grinning. “Relax, you’ve got this.”

“No respect from my concertmaster,” I smirked as he clapped my shoulder.

“So, is the magic man making an appearance tonight?”

“Nope. He’s otherwise occupied.”

Mike laughed. “What does that even mean?”

I shrugged. “It means...he won’t be here.”

“Oh, come on. He can’t pull away from whatever he’s filming for one night to celebrate your 5 year anniversary with us? Loser.”

“Whatever.” I blew out a sigh and looked back over my notes. “Really hate speeches.”

“See, magic man should’ve been here. He likes to talk and the ladies love to listen.” Mike winked and got a smack on the arm for his trouble before wandering off.

He wasn’t wrong. Tom loved to talk and everyone loved his voice, not just the ladies. In the two plus years we've been together, I’d never known him to refuse an opportunity to tell a story - except to hear me tell one. He was the only man I’d ever met that could listen as intently as he does, to make you feel like the entire universe centered around you. Management had actually approached his agent about serving as emcee when Daniels backed out, and they declined, citing a previous commitment. Which was, at the time, a bald-faced lie.

We argued about the timing of this show only a few days prior to the request because the concert was so close to our own anniversary. He had, in typical Tom fashion, made some grand plans involving travel and luxuries and all the things that drove my simplistic heart manic with worry, and hadn’t bothered to check the concert calendar. So, when I told him I couldn’t blow off the fund-raising event of the season, he went ballistic.

And I fired back. How dare he get upset when he’d canceled God knows how many times in favor of an audition? Where did he get off saying that one night wasn’t as important as ‘us’ when he’d confused night after night for his career? It turned really ugly and I ended up flying back to New York earlier than planned because of it. We didn’t speak for a week, and all of our communication after that was strained. Six weeks later, I stopped hearing from him altogether, despite assurances from his mother and sisters that we were still very much a couple. He was deep in some remote area with no wireless signal, they said. I sighed, pushing back tears.

“Two minutes to curtain. Oh, and I’m supposed to tell you that an emcee has been located. You’re off the hook.” a stagehand told me.

“Thank you, God!”

I found Mike walking toward me, making sure everyone was ready to go.

“Conductor,” he nodded, a glint of mischief in his eye.

“Concertmaster,” I nodded back, grinning. Our pre-show ritual complete, he returned to his place in the lineup and the procession began with the welcoming announcement. I watched from the wings as the line of bodies filed into their seats to thunderous applause. The house looked to be full. “Must be doing something right,” I said to the stagehand.

A hush fell over the crowd, followed by the sound of a solid A from Mike. The strings followed, then woodwinds, brass. Mike nodded again. I nodded back, then to the stagehand, who gave his own cue to the booth. I took a deep breath, prayed a little prayer, and strode out on the stage as the house announcer introduced me. I bowed, gesturing to the musicians who were doing all of the real work tonight, and smiled.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage our master of ceremonies for the evening, mister Robert Downey, Jr.”

Bob strode out to the center of the stage, grinning from ear to ear.

I shot the dirtiest look to Mike, mouthing, “You knew.”

He shrugged, then smiled. Jackass.

“Maestra, you look stunning,” I heard beside me. He leaned in for a cheek-to-cheek kiss, lingering a little longer than maybe he should have. “He misses you,” he finally whispered, pulling away.

“Then he should be here.” I croaked. Poor Bob, reduced to a mere messenger boy. “Shall we?”

Being the gentleman that he is, Robert led me to the platform, holding my hand as I made the tiny step up, then returned to the podium on the other side of the stage.

I reviewed the first few measures of the music in front of me while Robert began his speech. He told the audience of his love for the music we would begin the performance with, the “John Williams Suite”. It was an orchestration I’d been working on for months, often to Tom’s frustration. Sheet music tended to consume the kitchen table in my loft apartment, something that was not at all conducive to his attempts to cook for me. I smiled as we began with ‘Indiana Jones’ themes, recalling a particular incident where he walked into the apartment completely unannounced, arms overloaded with grocery bags to find the table had been covered with scores from half a dozen films. He just sighed and went into the kitchen to begin cooking. Another meal on the sofa, he lamented. I simply kept on writing, struggling to get the transition between ‘E.T.’ and ‘Jurassic Park’ just right.

The music followed into the Star Wars medley. Lost in memory, I had to pull myself together enough to get through the rest of the piece. ‘Duel of the Fates’ was no joke to perform, much less conduct. Some of the choir members referred to it as the marathon. The horn players laughed at them until I reminded them that this was the reason why I stretched my arms before every rehearsal. Tom knew when rehearsals were intense by the way I held my shoulders afterward. He’d always massage the muscles, wondering if I was perhaps a bit too animated in my conducting. I’d always ask if he was perhaps a bit too animated when he read the Saint Crispin’s speech. That’s usually when the tickling started.

After a few moments pause for the audience to show their appreciation, and for the orchestra to move sheet music around, we moved into a mix of old and new Star Trek themes, ending with the suite from Into Darkness. There has been a great deal of debate within the group as to which series - old or new - was better, followed by discussions of films, actors, approaches, and which made my little geeky heart happy. Tom had no comment on the matter, despite the fact that his eyes lit up a little more when we opted to watch Ben’s version of Khan instead of the original.

The piece finished and Robert began rambling on about music and film and... I stopped paying attention after a few seconds, focusing again on the upcoming music. One of the stagehands appeared on my right and placed a wireless mic on the music stand. I put it on, thinking I would be expected to say a few words about my time with the orchestra, what an honor it was, blah blah blah.

Celebrate yourself, Tom would say. If anyone deserves accolades, it’s you. My response was almost always, “yeah, whatever,” which would send him into a 20-minute monologue extolling my virtues as a musician and human. I’ve always preferred to let the music speak for itself.

I heard Robert say “This is gonna be fun,” and knew we were up. I’d arranged a medley of Queen songs - Somebody to Love, I’m Going Slightly Mad, Days of Our Lives, and Bohemian Rhapsody. When Mike saw the score for the first time, he asked if I was okay. I just wasn’t ready to discuss the argument, so I brushed the question off with a shrug. “Feeling nostalgic,” I told him. “Besides, I want to show the altos some love.”

The altos later told me that was not the kind of love they were looking for. The sopranos, however, were ecstatic. Divas, the whole lot of them.

Music from the MCU finished out the evening. Black Panther, Thor, Captain Marvel, and all the Avengers films wrapped into 10 minutes. It was supposed to be for Tom. I’d seriously contemplated scrapping the whole section after the fight but the entire orchestra vetoed the idea, citing it as the “entertaining” piece of the evening. I knew that if the musicians weren’t happy, no one was happy, so it stayed but they just wanted to play Immigrant Song.

We’d moved through to ‘Portals’ from the Endgame soundtrack and I could feel the energy of the audience change. They started shouting and clapping behind me. Maybe they’re loving the music with the latest movie having been released. We reached the scripted pause, and I kept going, but the orchestra doesn’t. They just sat there staring at me, and I was suddenly aware of “Loki” being chanted behind me. I glared at Mike, who’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. That’s when the glint of gold caught my eye. I turned, finally dropping my arms when my mouth follows suit.

Loki, or Tom, in full Loki regalia, strode toward me like a demi-god possessed. The horns sat above smoldering eyes, cape flowing behind him as he approached me like an animal stalking his prey. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to pounce on him in front of God and the globe. I never could resist that costume, and he knew it. Instead, I simply crossed my arms.

“Please,” he growled, the swagger growing, “don’t stop on my account. Summon your Avengers.”

“Bad enough you destroy half of Manhattan with some half-baked scheme to take over the world. Now, you have the audacity to crash my gig and interrupt their music?”

He stopped short, head cocking to one side. I don’t think he was entirely sure if I was serious or just playing along. The infamous smile returned.

“Forgive me. The interruption of the arts is indeed a sin, but the purpose behind my visit warrants such sacrilege.” When I didn’t answer, he removed his helmet, eliciting a new wave of cheers from the crowd. His hair was its natural ginger, long and wildly out of control. He turned to them and held a finger to his goateed lips, a la 2013’s Comic-Con visit before placing the helmet on the stage.

“I have found myself lamenting the loss of something very dear to me of late. Something that I believe you alone can help me recover.” He paused, his voice echoing through the speakers while his hands fell to his sides. “It pains me to admit such shortcomings, but I find that I am weaker without you, that I am lost without your presence in my life. I am heartbroken at each day that passes without the sound of your voice. So,” his cloak flew behind him with a flourish and he fell to one knee. A collective gasp came from the audience and the stage. “My lady, would you consider restoring to me the grace of your life and your love on a permanent basis?”

What the hell is happening? I glanced over at Mike. He and the rest of the orchestra are literally sitting on the edge of their seats. When I turn back to Tom, his arm is extended towards me, a small box with a ring sitting in the palm of his hand. Tom, channeling Loki, channeling King Hal. I was doomed.

“Will you consent to be my queen and my love? Will you marry me?”

His head dropped and my heart leaped into my throat. Time seemed to slow to a crawl while I recalled every fight, every laugh, every moment of passion and joy and sorrow. How could I possibly say yes? How could I not?

The soft sound of a camera lens focusing on me snapped me out of my time stop. He was still on bended knee, his arm shaking a bit. I stepped off of the platform and lifted his chin. For all his eloquence, I could only come up with a single word response.

“Yes.”

Tom jumped to his feet and kissed me as everyone within earshot roared with approval. ‘All I Ask of You’ began to play and I made a mental note to fire then promote Mike later, as I was sure he’d been part of this plot all along. A moment passed in his arms before he finally stepped back, scooping up the golden horns.

“I shall be waiting with white horses, my queen.”

“And here I thought you’d want me to play you out.”

“As long as it’s not ‘Performance Issues’.”

“No promises.” I winked then stepped back onto the platform. “Ladies and gentlemen, shall we skip to the end?” Mike nodded and everyone found their page. I raised my hands and music from the Avengers theme rang out in the park.

Tom bowed to me before he slid the helmet back over his head, turned and walked to the side of the stage where Robert stood, raising his hands in victory when applause followed. I caught them embracing out of the corner of my eye and knew I’d have to give both of them grief later for the first glimpse of ‘FrostIron.’

We made it to the loft long after the final note sounded. There had been a sea of people congratulating me on the concert, the engagement, and everything in between. Tom vanished long enough to de-Loki, much to my disappointment, but stayed right next to me for the rest of the night. When we were finally able to leave, he ushered me out to a white Jag. White horses, indeed.

He zipped through the streets of Manhattan with ease, taking as many backroads as possible to avoid traffic. I took the time to get a good look at the ring, and oh God was it stunning. A large oval stone set on its side with two smaller stones at either end set in a band of polished silver knotwork. Definitely handcrafted and a perfect fit.

“The band’s tungsten. I know how hard you are on jewelry,” Tom said with a wink.”The stones are moldavite, amethyst, and garnet.” he glanced over, a smile on his face. “Us.”

“It’s perfect,” I blushed a little, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “And you’re a dork of the highest caliber.”

That little laugh that drives all the ladies crazy slipped out as he nodded and pulled into the parking garage. Our elevator ride was silent as the family that snuck in just as the doors were closing bombarded Tom with more questions about Loki than I’d ever come up with. It made me think we’d have to take the service elevator from now on.

All thoughts of anything beyond the man wrapped around me vanished as soon as the apartment door closed. Tom spun me around, planting a kiss that went from chaste to passion in point zero six seconds. I heard my keys hit the floor after I missed the end table. He growled when I tried to pick them up, nipping a little harder at my neck, pushing me toward the bedroom.

We were all hands trying to shed clothes on the way. You’d think that as much coordination we had individually, we’d be able to make it look as graceful as it did in the movies. The poor boy got so frustrated that he picked me up, carried me down the hallway, and dropped me on the bed. Shoes and socks off, he stepped closer to unzip my dress while I worked on his pants. The ‘conda sprang free as soon as the zipper fell. Another growl came from above when I wrapped my hand around it, morphing into a moan as when lips added.

The bed dipped to one side a little with the weight of his leg. His hands rested on my shoulders as he tried to steady himself while I rolled my tongue around his cock. I couldn’t see his eyes with his head leaned back, but knew he was lost in the sensations, his hips rocking back and forth. He pulled out suddenly, tugged my hands away and upward to my feet.

Another kiss, slower and more passionate while he finally figured out the zipper of my gown. His hands moved the fabric down, and the frustrated moan came when he remembered just how much effort went into making slinky black dresses look good. He nuzzled and nipped his way across my face and down my neck while he fumbled with the clasps of my bra. I returned the favor, dragging teeth along his neck until I was able to get his shirt open.

What was left of my clothing dropped to the floor in one swift motion when Tom dropped to his knees, pushing me back onto the bed. I slid up the mattress and he followed, kissing and licking his way up my legs. He stopped at my hips, licking upward along the inside of my thigh but never quite made it to the center.

“If all you’re gonna do is tease,” I panted, “then get up here.”

“You would deny me the pleasure of devouring your already dripping quim?” Loki’s voice followed the dark, lust filled eyes that looked up at me. Before I could wrap my brain around my impending demise by god-lust, a finger slid inside me, followed by another. The smirk became a grin and he lowered his mouth to my clit, his eyes never leaving mine.

He growled again as he began to suck, slowly pumping his ridiculously long fingers in and out of my pussy. I tried to squirm away when he picked up the pace and he wrapped his free arm around my leg, locking me in place. I lost count of how many times he brought me to the edge only to back off and begin again. My fingers found their way into his hair, tugging him upward, only to be rewarded with his teeth dragging across my swollen bud.

“Not until you cum,” he purred, still latched on to me. He began thrusting the fingers inside me, curling them around to brush against that little bundle of nerves while he clamped down with lips and teeth. It didn’t take long for my body to shatter beneath him, my orgasm tearing its way out of me with a scream. He anchored me down with both arms, sucking out every last drop I could offer.

When I came back to reality, he was making a slow path up my body, his breath hot on my skin. His lips finally reached mine and I took rough possession of them, wanting to taste him. The tip of his cock brushed against my pussy and I shivered. Tom pulled away a bit.

“Need a bit longer to recover?” he whispered, nuzzling against my cheek.

“Absolutely not.” I pulled him closer to me and shifted a bit, sliding a hand down his stomach. “Only thing I need is you.” My fingers wrapped around his length and guided him inside.

“Oh. My. Go...” The last syllable was lost in the moan that rumbled in his chest. He was completely still above me except the slow thrust to push himself deeper, nearly purring as he went. I moved my hands along his sides and he sighed. “Been too long. Won’t last.”

“Ditto,” I breathed into his ear, “on both counts. Just move.”

Tom obliged, rocking his hips back and forth, moving a little faster with each thrust. I tried to lift my hips to his, but he built a pace I just couldn’t maintain. All I could do was hold onto him, losing myself in the feeling his body in mine and the sounds we made. His moans took on a higher pitch and his thrusts became erratic until every muscle in his body tensed, his seed spilling in waves. Feeling him cum sent me back over the edge, and I could’ve sworn I heard him chuckle as I clamped down around him.

We lay tangled in each other for a while, basking in the afterglow. He finally moved to the side, eliciting a groan from both of us when he did. Ever the gentleman, he let me duck into the loo first while he turned down the bed. Both settled back in bed, I curled up next to him, my head resting on his chest.

“Love?” he whispered, toying with a lock of my hair. “Are you sure?”

“Sure of what?”

“This,” he spoke as he ran his fingers along my left hand to the ring. “I know you wouldn’t have refused me in front of the entire world and half of Manhattan, even if you wanted to.” I lifted my head from his chest to look at him. There was a genuine concern on his face as he sighed. “So, are you sure?”

“You’re serious?” His face turned sheepish. “Then let me answer a question with a question.”

“What? You hate it when I do that!” He sat up a bit and I pressed a finger to his lips.

“Thomas William Loki Adam Hank Henry Robert Freddie Jonathan Oakley Hiddleston the fifth, Lord Nooth, rightful king of the Jotunheim, England, Ireland, Scotland...”

“Okay, okay, enough,” he chuckled. I grinned at him.

“Will you marry me?” His eyes went wide and teared up a bit. He began nodding furiously until I kissed him.

Neither of us slept that night.

#fanfic #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston smut

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carolinesbookworld · 6 years

Text

How the Moon Fell In Love With a Star - Part 6

Fandom: Harry Potter, Marauders Era

Pairing: Sirius Black x OC (Remus’s twin sister)

Word Count: 1,190

Summary: Lilliana Lupin is just starting her seventh year with her twin brother and best friends. The only catch: she’s in love with one of them. When James hatches a plan to make both Lily Evans and Sirius Black notice James and Lillie, she is hesitant. Until it works.

Series Masterlist Masterlist

A/N: Y’all would not believe the writer’s block I had! I’m sorry this took so long, I’ve been so busy with school and work and I’ve been sick and last week was homecoming but now I have inspiration! So hopefully, I’ll get back on track with this series and writing in general. I hope this was worth the wait :)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Morning rays of sunlight left criss-cross patterns on my quilt. I rolled over only to be met with the confused face of Lily Evans.

“Since when were you and Potter together?” For a moment, I stared blankly at her, then her words processed and my eyes widened. Lily stepped away from the bed and began to pace. “And why am I finding out from Marlene of all people? I should be finding out from you! I'm only your best friend!”

“I was going to tell you, but last night you were too drunk to even know what was going on around you!” I explained defensively. Lily deflated a bit at my comment. She always felt embarrassed when someone called her out on drinking. Which wasn't often.

Lily looked away, finally saying, “Well, you still should have told me. I want to know that kind of thing!” I grinned at my best friend before chucking a pillow at her.

“You always need to be involved,” I laughed.

“I do! You know this already. Now hurry up, we've got to get to Hogsmeade soon. I need to start my Christmas shopping. Oh, and we need dresses for the New Years’ Ball!”

It's only November, Lils, we have plenty of time!”

“Never too early to start!” She called as she waltzed out of the room.

----

A crisp breeze blew my hair all over the place. “I hate wind,” I sputtered, hooking a finger around the strand of hair caught in my mouth.

Remus chuckled. “You know, if you cut your hair…”

“Over my dead body,” I replied darkly. Remus raised his hands in surrender as the boys laughed. James threw an arm around my shoulder, at which Sirius abruptly quieted himself. I tried not to let it bother me, but I couldn't help wondering what he was thinking in that handsome head of his.

“How long exactly has this…” Peter gestured at James and I, “Been going on?”

James shrugged nonchalantly. “A while I guess. I mean we've both been in love with different people for a while and we'd go to each other to talk about it, so it's been kind of a slow burn.”

“Oh yeah?” Sirius questioned. “So who did you love, Lilliana?” His question caught me off guard but the use of my full name was like a slap in the face.

James replied, “You, actually.” I dropped my book.

Sirius’ eyebrows scrunched up. “Pardon?” Remus and Peter looked on in horror. James elbowed me in the side.

“Right, that.” I shifted my weight to my left foot, looking anywhere but Sirius’ gray eyes. Reaching down to grab my book, I said, “I'm over it now, anyway. You know, because of...James. And all that.” The boy next to me nodded.

“Totally over it!” James said. “Just like I am over Evans in any and every way possible.”

Remus rolled his eyes. Of course my twin would be the one to doubt. He knew the both of us better than anyone. “Well, lads, I guess it's just the three of us today,” Remus commented. “I'm sure these two will want the day to themselves.”

“Oh, no! We were planning to...spend the day with you.” My eyes met Remus’ and he hid a smug smile.

“Oh really?” Sirius asked condescendingly. “Why on Earth would the happy couple not want time on their own?” He didn't wait for an answer and instead stalked off down the path toward Hogsmeade.

----

First stop: Honeydukes. Obviously. I could never resist the intoxicating scents drifting out the door and always found my way into the sweet's shop eventually.

“Let me pay,” James said as I dumped my sugar haul on the counter.

“James, I can't.” I pushed his hand away from his pocket where he had been reaching for his wallet.

“Come on, let me do this. I'm your boyfriend.”

I glanced around before whispering, “You're my best friend, meaning you are not obligated to actually pay for anything.”

“But how would that look to everyone else if I don't pay for you?” He knew he won the argument because a second later, the sickles and knuts had already changed hands and the shopkeeper was scooping everything into a bag. I sighed and took the bag from the shopkeeper.

“You didn't have to do that,” I told James again as we left the shop. He shrugged.

We headed over to Three Broomsticks, planning to meet up with Remus and Lily and Peter. Sirius had ditched the others in favor of spending the day with Frank Longbottom. James pulled open the door and a wave of warmth rushed over us. In the corner by the bar, I spotted Regulus with some of his Slytherin friends. He looked up and caught my eye. I smiled, and he nodded then went back to his drink.

“Why do you acknowledge the little Black?” James asked.

“Because I actually tolerate him. He's not so bad if you get to know him. Besides, it's one of the easiest ways to piss off Sirius.” James twisted his head to follow my gaze and saw his best friend in the opposite corner with Frank, Alice, and Marlene.

“Right. Let's get drinks.” He tugged me over to an empty booth and pulled me in next to him. “Two butterbeers,” he told the waitress.

As James and I waited, I could feel the eyes of almost every Hogwarts student focused on us. Of course they would be. James and I appeared as a couple, and people stared. Because it was unusual. Out of the ordinary.

As it turned out, though, the staring was to our advantage as Sirius’ eyes did not leave me, and a moment later, Lily walked in with my brother and Peter.

“I will never get used to this,” Lily said, taking the booth across from James and me.

“You should,” replied James. He turned to me and took my hand, playing with my fingers. The waitress brought us our drinks, and James nodded in thanks, handing her a few sickles.

“Hey, Lillie, we should go dress shopping today,” Lily suggested. “Want to get a good one before they're all gone.”

I sighed. “Whyyyyy…” Dress shopping was one of my least favorite things in the world. Lily grabbed my hand.

“Please! James can come to,” she added, as if that made it better.

“No because-” I cut myself off abruptly. I couldn't say no because he'll just mess around the whole time. Lily would doubt that.

She crossed her arms. “Why not? Don't you want to coordinate?”

“Why on Earth would would we-” I elbowed James sharply in the ribs. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What? Did you forget she's your girlfriend or something?” James's eyes widened.

“N-no,” he sputtered. “I just meant... this might not work out and we'll just,” he made a few strange hand gestures, “be friends again...then. When the dance comes.”

“Already having doubts, Jamsie?” He gave me a look, at which Remus chuckled. I shoved his shoulder. “I'm just messing, Prongs.”

James threw me a grin and tossed his arm over my shoulder. “Thank Merlin for that!”

Part 7

@paradoxical--intentions @knowledgeisthebomb @watson-38 @athenamalfoywinchester @bestillmystuckyheart @annino112 @siriuspadfoot14 @xsuperwholockaddictx-blog @ghostgirl1609 @whysoseriouspadfoot @bubblesbts93 @sly-vixen-up2nogood @sleepingalaska @nicolebeaudry @saynotodrugsyestotacos @mysweetcookie99 @mrstomlifford @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @avengersassemblee @aestheticallymarauderss @love-dria @superwholockgeek18 @lonelyheart-jadedsoul @barikawho @hahawannadiehaha @panicatthelonelymountain

Send me a ask or comment down below if you want to be tagged in future parts :)

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ssromanogers · 5 years

Text

who else could it be?

To: @aquajules

From: @cpt-stvngrntrgrs // Fatima

Note: Hey there! I hope you like it!!!

—

Steve was sketching his view of the Manhattan skyline when he got an alert that Natasha was requesting access to his floor. “Let her in,” he answered Jarvis, a bit distractedly. He was getting used to her dropping by that he wonders why the alerts are still there. He kept forgetting to ask Stark to take the “privacy warning” from his floor off since he wants to be more accessible to others and they keep hanging out together in his floor anyway.

The elevator pings and he can actually already feel her presence - as weird as that might sound - before she even enters his living room. He guesses that they really are just attuned to each other after working together for a while already. He felt her standing behind him, watching him sketch. He put down his pencil and turned around to face her.

“What’s up?” he asked with an easy smile. The sight of long red hair standing out from her all black outfit, with the natural light filtering in frames her perfectly, and Steve had to resist the urge to sketch her right there. He figured he zoned out a bit when it sounded like she asked him a question and was currently looking puzzled as to why she hasn’t gotten an answer yet. “Uh, sorry, what?”

Natasha squinted at him, looking at him up and down. “Did you not hear a word of what i just said?” she asked, a bit confused but also with a hint of worry. “You okay, Rogers? You seem out of it and that’s not very likely of you.”

“Y-yeah, of course,” Steve stammered, “Just uh, thinking about telling Stark to make my room accessible for you guys, or something like that.”

Natasha just nodded and shrugged. “Okay… well I came in here to ask you a question. I’ve been planning to take this guy out for a date and, well, I need opinions to see how a guy thinks, you know, romantically–” she explained, moving towards the couch to sit.

Steve followed her to the couch, feeling a lot more lost. There was a guy? That Natasha likes? He felt his brain split at that second as millions of questions come rushing in - questions that he doesn’t have the answers to. Steve has suspected that he might like Nat more than a partner should, kinda thought that she felt the same way to him, if he’s being honest, but apparently he misread everything. He felt a pang of pain to his chest and his mood plummeted, and he realized that he zoned her out again.

“– not that I wouldn’t know what a guy likes, since I live with all you dudes, and I’ve had tons of men before, but not in an actual, serious date.” Natasha continued to ramble on, not noticing that Steve wasn’t following her train of thought. “So will you help me?” she finally asked, turning to look at Steve who was staring at her with a blank face.

“Uh, yes, of course,” Steve answered, not even knowing what he agreed to.

“Great! I just have a couple of questions-” she pulled out her phone and turned to him, “-please just answer these honestly.” Steve nodded along, not really sure about what she’s going to ask.

“Which do you prefer for a first date: lunch or dinner?” she read off the first question.

“Lunch, I guess. It’s less formal and more relaxed, so you can get to know your date more.”

“Cool. Do you think a lunch date should come with a movie afterwards or would it be better to watch a concert afterwards? I think his favorite band has a show that day but I don’t want to make me look too anxious and stalker-ish to already know what he’s into, you know?”

“Well, I think he’d appreciate seeing his favorite band…” Steve paused. “Wait, what exactly is this for again? And do I know who it is? If I know him it’d be easier to answer your questions,” Steve prodded. He has no idea who Natasha could be interested in. Is it a SHIELD agent? He doesn’t exactly see her interact with people outside their circle so he has to at least have heard of the guy at some point.

Natasha rolled her eyes in response. “Just trying to gather first date ideas. Stark’s answers sucked, Thor’s suggestions are literally out of this world, and everyone else is MIA. So I’m down to you. And no, you don’t know him. I met him online and we’ve been talking for some time. And just answer the questions, gee,” she tried to sound exasperated but her smile tells him that she’s enjoying confusing him.

“You. Online dating? The Black Widow looking for a man online? Is that even allowed by SHIELD protocol?” he joked, to which she shrugged and laughed with. SHIELD would probably be too scared to call her out anyway. “Well, I’d definitely go with seeing the band if you know he likes them, I think that would be sweet. But if not, then movies or even a walk in the park might work for early afternoon…” he trailed off.

“Okay, that works, I think that’s all I need,” she put her phone away and lied down on the couch, sliding her legs on top of Steve’s lap. “Jarvis, can we watch The Lion King, please,” she ordered the AI.

Steve stared at her. “That’s it? You couldn’t have sent a text?” he joked, adjusting to be more comfortable now that they’re apparently watching a movie.

“Nah, I was bored and was going to come up here anyway.” she responded, already turned to focus on the movie. Steve just grinned and rolled his eyes. He loved moments like these between them - Natasha usually picks a Disney movie to make him watch and they’d rate how that movie moved or made them cry. Natasha bets that the Lion King would be no. 1 but Steve insisted that it will always be Bambi. He won’t know what will hit him.

–

“Come on, Rogers, let’s go!!” Tony has been trying to get Steve to go with him and stalk Natasha on her date, but Steve won’t budge on the reason that he ‘respects her privacy’ but in reality, he just doesn’t want to see her with someone else.

“No, Tony. We can’t spy on a spy! She’ll see us in a second and kill us both, you do understand that, right?” Steve reasoned.

“Yeah, but it’s not like she can do it in broad daylight,” Tony fired back.

“She can and she will,” Clint chimed in, not looking up from his game.

“Let’s just see what he looks like! From like, a window or something, then we’ll leave! Please?” Tony insisted.

“Can’t you just search him up or something?” Steve asked. He can feel like he’s losing this battle because as much as it’ll hurt him, he really is curious about who the guy is or what he looks like.

“I can, but that’ll be an even bigger breach of ‘privacy’, a thing you so highly find important. Who knows what I’ll find,” Tony winked and Steve gave him a disgusted face.

“Fine! But a brief look, okay!” Steve exclaimed, throwing his hands up and giving up to the pressure.

Steve begrudgingly stood up to follow Stark to the garage to leave. They asked Clint to tag along but he just shook his head and said that he, in fact, wishes to live. Steve asked himself if this really is a good idea.

When they got to the restaurant where Natasha’s date was taking place, they noticed that she was still sitting alone. Tony checked his watch, Natasha’s date was supposed to meet her 30 minutes ago.

“Hey, wait here,” Tony abruptly said to Steve, leaving their hiding spot and walking in the restaurant before Steve could say a word. When he finally processed what Tony did, Steve cursed under his breath because they were going to die.

Steve watched Tony approach a passive-looking Natasha and the two spoke briefly, until Tony said something that made Natasha laugh - which, in turn, instinctively made Steve smile. When Tony pointed a finger to their hiding spot, Steve’s smile disappeared as his eyes met Natasha’s. Crap. How could Tony out him like that! Natasha’s smile grew larger as he signaled for Steve to come to them, which he had no choice but to do, so he bowed his head down and went inside.

“Hey Steve,” Natasha greeted him warmly. “Take a seat,” she offered to the empty seat across from her.

“Uh, but don’t you have a date?” Steve asked, confused, looking between her and Tony.

Tony clasped a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with an enormous grin. “So, I’ll leave you guys to it. Romanoff, you’re welcome. You owe me one!” he winked at Natasha, who waved her off, laughing.

“Wait, Tony, wha-” Steve started to ask Tony, who just made him sit at the chair and left. Steve looked back to Tony’s retreating figure before turning around to face Natasha.

“Nat what’s happening? Did your date stand you up?” he asked her, his face scrunched up, still not fully grasping what’s happening.

Natasha simply smiled, not saying anything.

“Did he? He did, huh! Who is he, anyway? Because I-” Steve started to rant, placing his hands on the table as he started to get upset at the thought that someone would do that to Natasha, of all people.

“Steve, you’re my date,” Natasha cut him off, placing her hands over his.

That made stop talking. “I’m your what now?” He dumbfoundedly asked, eliciting a chuckle from Natasha.

“You’re the guy I want to ask out. And, I don’t know, but for some reason I want to surprise you because I don’t want you to overthink it.” Natasha explained.

Steve stared at her for a while, not saying anything, trying to process what she just said. “So does this mean that… you like me… or want to date me?” Steve slowly let out.

“Yes and yes. Again, like I said, Steve don’t overthink it. You’re here because I like you, and I think that maybe you like me too?” Natasha asked, her voice getting smaller as she got the question out.

Steve nodded rapidly. “I-i I do! I do like you!” Steve assured, finally letting out a laugh and moving his hands so he could clasp Natasha’s in between his. “So when you asked me about this the other day…” he trailed off.

Natasha laughed. “Yes, it was because I want to know what you personally think. Believe it or not it’s actually Stark’s idea,” Natasha shrugged, “and as you witnessed, he did help me pull this off, too. Who would’ve thought he had the knack for romance.”

“Well, he is very dramatic so I guess that played out well. Wait. You told me the other day that your date’s, which is apparently me, favorite band is performing and that you’d watch it after this. Is that still true?” Steve asked, sounding hopeful.

Natasha nodded. “Yup. Mayday Parade is playing this afternoon and we have VIP tickets,” Natasha flashed him a proud grin. That band is special to them because Natasha got Steve into that band and they spent many afternoons listening to their music in silence and enjoying the music.

“Wow, I can’t believe it! I’m so happy I could kiss you right now-” Steve exclaimed, before stopping as he realized what he said.

“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Natasha suggested with a smirk, watching Steve turn red and looking for words.

“Really? I mean- I would like to, uh you know, kiss you. Like for real, this time,” Steve muttered, avoiding Natasha’s eyes as he turns even more red.

“You could’ve just asked,” Natasha playfully quipped. She stood up and leaned close to Steve, planting a soft kiss on his lips before sitting down again. “I’ll give you that for now, Rogers. After all, it is only our first date,” Natasha teased.

Steve blinked, eventually smiling as he recovered from that. “First of many,” he said with a promise, clutching Natasha’s hand a bit tighter.

#romanogers #captasha #capwidow #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #fanfic #submission

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rockinthebeastmode · 6 years

Text

Bad Apple VIII

A/N: This is a bit shorter than the chapters before but it seemed like a good place to stop. It’ll probably be a couple days before the next one, between work and putting some final touches to it. Hope you enjoy!

Bad Apple I Bad Apple II Bad Apple III Bad Apple IV Bad Apple V Bad Apple VI Bad Apple VII

You can find the rest of my fics here.

@mmfdfanfic @eveerez @i-dream-of-emus @lilaviolet@laurielau @hey1tskat1e @tinakegg @kneekeyta @likeashootingstarfades @girl-looking-out-window @stinemarine @lurkernolonger @crystalgiddings1993 @milllott @milymargot @vivammfd @finn-nelson-for-the-win @ifinallyknow @isthistherightwayround @believethaticanandiwill

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tag list and if I missed anyone :)

Bad Apple VIII

It was a full minute before either of them spoke.

“What are you doing, Rae?” Chloe asked quietly, staring straight ahead. Rae shook her head, flattening her lips.

“I don’t know. It’s...complicated.” Chloe glanced over at her with a grimace.

“What’s complicated about him being sixteen? You couldn’t possibly like him--”

“I can’t help how I feel, Chloe!” Rae replied sharply, “I thought he was eighteen when we met and I know he lied but I...care about him.”

“Even if he wasn’t underage--don’t you care about his reputation? He’s a criminal!”

“He is not a criminal,” Rae scoffed, rolling her eyes, “He’s...struggling.”

“You can’t fix him, Rae,” Chloe insisted.

“Who said I was trying to?”

Chloe sighed and glanced at her, shaking her head.

“I can’t stop you but… I hope you realize what you’re doing.”

“I know--I have to figure it out.”

***

Rae fully planned on ending things with Finn. She didn’t know how he’d take it, but as much as she felt for him, this was a big mess that had gone too far.

She didn’t speak to him during class and tried her hardest not to pay him any mind. He kept trying to meet her eyes, get any sort of response but she focussed on class, reviewing Keats and Shelley for the test she’d planned.

When the bell rang, Finn hung back, going to her desk while students came in. She glanced up when his shadow covered her and he leaned over, his palms flat on the desk. He met her eyes.

“We still on for tutoring, Ms. Earl?” he asked quietly, barely smiling and looking her face over. She nodded, licking her lips nervously.

“I’ll see you at lunch, Mr. Nelson,” she said, her eyes going back to her notes, breaking their contact. He stood there another moment, staring at her curiously, before nodding and standing straight.

“Looking forward to it, ma’am.” Finn returned, giving her a once over and turning to leave. Rae shut her eyes, shaking her head, and stood to begin class.

***

Rae paced the front of her classroom, clicking her pen restlessly. The lunch bell had rung five minutes before and she was anxiously waiting for Finn to show up. She had her back to the door when she heard it open and close, Finn’s boots loud on the tile. She froze when his hand moved her hair to the side and his lips brushed the back of her neck.

“Rae,” he whispered, kissing her below her ear.

“We can’t do this here.” She stepped away and faced him. He raised a brow and nodded.

“Okay. Not here.”

“We should stop,” she continued, her lips flattening. Finn huffed, looking to the ceiling.

“We’re doing this again?” he asked, exasperated.

“It’s for the best,” she said, frowning, “We can’t be together.”

“I’m not trying to be your boyfriend, Rae,” he retorted, stepping closer to her. Rae crossed her arms.

“What are you trying to do?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he stated, his brow furrowing.

Rae shook her head, walking past him. He grabbed her arm, pulling her to face him easily.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, meeting her eyes intensely.

“You’re sixteen, Finn.” He nodded, tilting his head.

“And you’re 22,” he countered, Rae giving him a pointed look, “It’s a six year difference.”

“You’re underage,” she argued irritably. Finn raised his brows, his shoulders lifting a bit.

“I’m aware.”

“You know this can’t continue,” she said. Finn looked to the side, biting his cheek.

“Why can’t we just...do whatever we want,” he started, his hands taking her elbows, “Whatever feels right.”

“Because it’s all wrong! There are rules and laws and morals and....” Rae cried shrilly before stopping short, her voice quieting, “I don’t know what to do.” She closed her eyes and Finn stepped closer, bringing them chest to chest.

“I can keep a secret,” he said, Rae shaking her head, “No one has to know what we’re doing behind closed doors. It’s no one’s business,” His hand went to her cheek, his thumb rubbing her jaw. Rae took a deep breath.

“Finn…” she sighed, her eyes boring into his. Finn flattened his lips, stepping away from her reluctantly.

“Why don’t you think on it and we’ll do this tutoring bullshit,” he suggested, wrinkling his nose. Rae rolled her eyes but smiled softly.

“Alright...sounds good.”

***

They managed to stay on topic for the hour and Rae was surprised Finn actually listened and cooperated. She had fully expected him to try and distract her but he kept his word, only lightly joking through the material.

Rae was running late leaving the school for the day and came out of the front doors after almost everyone had cleared out. She noticed Finn in the parking lot next to his scooter, a few spots from hers, with his back to her. She managed to sneak past him and got in the car. She was about to start it and go when she heard someone call out for Finn. She ducked lower in her seat, watching as Finn turned to Simmy approaching him.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Nelson.”

“The fuck are you on about?” Finn scoffed. Simmy frowned severely.

“Don’t play daft, mate,” he retorted swiftly, “Kendo wants this done by tomorrow. You know what you have to do.”

“Look, Simmy, I can’t--” Finn began, shaking his head.

“Yes, you can,” Simmy snapped, stepping closer, “Finn, lad...You can’t back out now--not when we’ve come this far.”

Finn got on his bike and Simmy stepped slightly in front of it.

“If you don’t do your part, I can’t do mine, understand?” Simmy raised his brows at him, a menacing smirk on his face, “Neither of us will get our cut if you don’t take your head out of your arse and follow the plan.”

Finn started the engine and revved it, scowling at him.

“Consider it done,” Finn sneered. Simmy stepped back as Finn sped off, cursing sharply. He irritably lit up a smoke and stalked across the lot. Rae sat up straight, eyes wide.

What the fuck was that?

Rae didn’t know who this Kendo was but it sure didn’t seem like someone Finn needed to be messing about with. She knew she wouldn’t get a straight answer if she asked him directly. He’d obviously lied yesterday when Simmy called. She’d been suspicious but now it was confirmed. Simmy had Finn involved in something bad.

Maybe there had been some truth to Chloe’s words. Maybe she was trying to fix him but she just wanted the best for him. She cared about him too much to let him get in trouble and she was gonna do whatever she could to stop it.

***

Rae knew Finn sometimes went to the school on weekends to play football and she was relieved to see his bike in the lot late Saturday morning. She made her way to the locker room when she didn’t see him on the field. She hastily stopped as she entered, seeing Finn standing in front of the lockers, Simmy next to him. He clapped a hand to Finn’s back.

“Nice one, lad. The boys confirmed the drop off last night.”

“Macca’s handling the rest, right?” Finn stressed, Simmy nodding back.

“Yea, he’s driving it out of town now,” Simmy replied with a smirk.

“So we’re done here,” Firm confirmed, raising his brows. Simmy pursed his lips and nodded.

“We’re done ‘til the next one,” he replied, Finn frowning.

“There won’t be another one, Evans,” Finn objected, crossing his arms, “I’m out.”

Simmy stepped closer, putting an arm around his shoulders, gripping his shoulder hard.

“Finn...we’ve been mates awhile, yeah?” Simmy began, Finn nodding, his frown deepening.

“Yeah, Simmy, but--”

“But nothing, Nelson,” he griped, removing his arm and standing in front of him, “Think about what I’ve done for you.”

Finn only scowled, quietly fuming. Simmy got in his face.

“You’d be rotting in prison if my dad wasn’t getting you off,” he snarled darkly, “You just remember who’s in charge here.” Simmy patted his cheek roughly, “I’ll be in touch.”

He turned and left out of the door leading into the school. When he’d cleared the room, Finn cursed and hit the locker with an open hand, gritting his teeth. Rae gasped, unfortunately revealing herself. Finn’s head snapped to her.

“How much of that did you hear?” he asked lowly, his anger morphing to surprised dread.

“I heard enough,” she said, stepping into the room, “What’s going on, Finn?”

“Stay out of it,” Finn said hastily, biting his cheek with a frown. He went to walk out.

“Who’s Kendo?” she blurted, Finn freezing in front of the door, “Finn, please...Tell me what Simmy has you doing.”

He shook his head, still facing the door and Rae stepped behind him, a hand going to his shoulder. He stiffened, his breathing short. She easily turned him and his face softened at the edges as they met eyes.

“Not here,” he protested, biting his lip harshly and looking away.

“Let’s go to yours,” Rae said, rubbing his shoulder lightly. He nodded, a grimace on his face. They left the locker room a moment later.

They walked quickly across the lot to his scooter and he took out his spare helmet, carefully placing it on her head with a small smile. She couldn’t resist smiling back, sidling behind him after he put on his helmet and got on the bike. She clasped her hands around him.

“You ready, girl?” he asked, bringing a hand over hers on his stomach. She nodded against his shoulder, squeezing around his waist tighter. He started the engine and glanced around before pulling off swiftly.

#mmfd fanfic #mmfdfanfic #mmfd fanfiction #my mad fat diary fanfiction #my mad fat diary fanfic #my mad fat diary #mymadfatdiary #badapple

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poeticandors · 6 years

Text

In My Dreams Part 4

Poe Dameron x Reader Anastasia!AU

Summary: Finn and Poe have been trying to help Y/N with remembering who she was before and Y/N is summoned by a certain Commander.

Warnings: Mentions of violence

A/N: Here is Part 4! I have been kind of eh about this fic, but after this chapter I am kind of feeling okay with it again. I just hope you guys enjoy it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Tag List under the cut.

I do not own anything!!!

As soon as you had agreed to be Poe and Finn’s Talia, they decided it would be best to start helping you remember right away. It had been a few days already—nothing but stories, diagrams, and questions—and you were exhausted. They even went as so far as to contact their friend, Rey, who would help you with the aspects of the Force, but you wouldn’t be meeting her until later on.

A part of you thought you would enjoy this, the idea of possibly finding your family and regaining your memories, but the more you were tested, the more annoyed you would get. Finn was more patient with you, trying to help you understand even though he himself knew very little of the missing Talia. Poe… well, he was a different story.

“Who was your grandmother?” Poe asked, circling around you with his hands behind his back, while you leaned your head against the palm of your hand.

What was this guy, a vulture in another life? You thought before answering the question in a flat tone. “Breha Organa.”

“Okay, what about your biological grandmother?’

“Uh…” You hesitated for moment but then sat straight up, snapping your fingers. “Senator Padmé Amidala!”

“Good, and your best friend?”

“My twin brother Tay,” You responded quickly, not pausing for a moment to think of the answer.

“Wrong!” Poe shouted and you furrowed your brows. “Your best friend is—“

“I know who my best friend is!”

Poe turned around as quickly as you shouted and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. “What a temper.” He nodded towards Finn, who stood there shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Standing up, you glared directly at Poe. “I’m sorry, I don’t like being contradicted, Dameron.”

Poe took a step towards you, his arms still crossed against his chest, and looked down at you. “That makes two of us, Y/N.”

Finn quickly stood in between the two of you. “Okay, guys, let’s calm down and continue this—“

“No!” You slammed your hand on the table, shocking both Finn and Poe. “I’ve had it with this! I am done. I am hungry, tired, and I can’t remember anything.”

No one spoke for a moment, and you couldn’t help but notice the pang of guilt featured in both Finn and Poe’s expressions. R9 and BB-8 rolled up to you; both beeping softly and you sighed.

“I just need a break, guys. I’m going to go for a walk, I think the cool air will calm me down.”

Finn’s eyes widened but before he could say anything, Poe interjected.

“Y/N, it’s too dangerous. What if the First Order—“

“I’ll be fine,” you smiled softly and, without thinking, placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

Poe stiffened under your touch but didn’t move. Realizing what you were doing, you quickly removed your hand, your cheeks warming up, and coughed awkwardly.

“Besides, I’ll have R9 with me the whole time.” R9 agreed and followed behind you as you shouted you would be back soon.

As soon as you stepped outside, the wind blew harshly against your skin and you began to shiver as you started to walk. R9 began questioning you, asking if you were okay and if you thought that they could really help you. Before you could answer, you rounded the corner and walked straight into a pair of Stormtroopers, waving a hand to R9 to stay where he was.

You were suddenly grabbed tightly by your arms. “You are to be escorted to Commander Ren for questioning.” Eyes widening at the name, you tried to keep up with their quick paces as they led you to a nearby Command Shuttle.

Kylo Ren stared out into the vast emptiness of space, waiting for his Stormtroopers to collect and bring forth the suspect of rumors he had been informed of. Apparently, over the last few days, this young woman had been going to this abandoned workshop rather than going home. It was a bit suspicious, so Kylo sent out some of his Troopers to go and find this woman.

He was pulled from his thoughts when the door to his office hissed open. He didn’t need to turn around in order to know who it was.

“Leave us.” He said deeply.

The door hissed open once more and Kylo straightened his back, clearing his throat.

“So, you’re our little troublemaker.” Silence. “You know, this is a small city. People tend to talk, especially about a couple of people causing mischief.”

“Excuse me, Sir, but why was I brought here?”

Kylo turned on his heal. “I was hoping you could tell me that.” When he saw the woman in front of him, his eyes lit up in realization, but he still kept his straight face. “You’re the young woman who was carrying the crates. Y/N, wasn’t it?”

The Y/H/C haired girl widened her eyes. “How did you—“she paused and pushed her shoulders back. “What is the charge?”

Kylo waved his hand and took a step closer. “There is no charge. But, I wanted to send you off with a warning.”

“A warning?”

“Yes,” Kylo was now standing in front of Y/N, towering over her. “It appears you have been the star of certain rumors that have to do with the General’s missing… adoptive daughter. I just wanted to make sure that you know we do not tolerate such actions. Especially from girls who deliver and pick up droid parts.”

Y/N avoided his gaze, instead staring straight at Kylo’s chest. “I-I don’t understand.”

“Well, if the Supreme Leader were to find out who you were pretending to be, you would be shot down in an instant.” Y/N was now looking up at him, her eyes widening in fear and Kylo gestured at her. “But you’re not. Because the young girl was killed long ago.”

Y/N nodded and Kylo cocked his head to the side.

“I was there, as you might know, training to be a Jedi. But then I realized that power was what made me stronger, and through the Dark side I would gain that power. I was the one who slayed all of the young Jedi’s in training. The twins fought well—I almost considered offering them mercy—but in the end it didn’t matter. I remember watching the temple burn. I remember hearing the screams. But it’s the silence after I remember most.” Kylo circled around the young woman, who was visibly shaking. “You’re shaking again, how rude of me. Would you like a cup of tea?”

Y/N was quick to shake her head. “Actually, I should be leaving now. I have to get up early for work.” Kylo hummed, but nodded in agreement.

“Tell the two outside I said to escort you back.” Y/N nodded and Kylo held a gloved hand out for her to shake, which she took hesitantly.

As soon as they touched, a flash of pictures flew through Y/N’s eyes and Kylo could feel a sort of energy flowing through her. Y/N gasped and pulled her hand out of his grasp.

“Thank you for the warning.” She said quickly before heading out of the door and Kylo simply watched her go, trying to figure out what it was he just felt.

As soon as you arrived back on land, you bolted straight for Poe and Finn. It was late, but you didn’t care. You were too scared to be alone tonight and knew you would feel safer if you were with the two of them.

Rather than knock like you usually would, you opened the door and ran straight into the main room. Poe stood up quickly and, noticing how distressed you looked, walked straight towards you, placing comforting hands on your arms.

“Are you okay? R9 told us what happened.” You nodded and gripped onto his forearms, looking directly at Poe and then around him.

“Where’s Finn?”

“He’s asleep; I told him I would keep watch for you in case you decided to come back. BB-8 and R9 are both in their charging stations.” Poe realized he was still holding onto you and slowly pulled his hands away, as did you. “C’mon, we can talk about this outside.”

You allowed Poe to guide you outside, his hand placed softly on the middle of your back was making it hard to ignore the warm feeling in your chest you were getting from being so close to him. After making it outside, he took you into an open alleyway and you began to tell him everything.

In the middle of explaining how the three of you were being watched, some metal crates falling caused you and Poe to turn your heads to find two individuals stalking up. Poe placed a protective arm in front of you and guided you behind him.

“Well, what do we have here? A Resistance member and his girlfriend walking around at this late hour?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” From the corner of your eye, you saw Poe reaching his other hand trail down to his side, where his blaster normally would be. “And we don’t want any trouble, we are just passing through.” When Poe saw his blaster wasn’t there, he reached for your hand and began pulling you forward, only for them to step in front of you.

“And we just want whatever valuables you are holding onto.”

Glaring at the one who just spoke, you squeezed Poe’s hand, “C’mon, Poe. I don’t like these guys.” As you guided him back the way you came, two more men jumped in front of you.

“Well, if you don’t want this fine, young woman, we can keep her.” Before you could react, a cold hand gripped onto your wrist and pulled you into their chest, Poe’s hand slipping from your grasp.

“Y/N!” Poe shouted behind you, but you were too busy pushing away from the slimy hands of your captor to pay attention to him.

As soon as you escaped his hold, you reached your hand out without thinking and in your hand appeared a metal pipe. The guy was too shocked to defend himself from you hitting him first in the chest, and then up his chin, knocking him out instantly. You didn’t know it, but Poe saw the entire thing, but was too preoccupied with defending himself against two of the men.

You could hear Poe behind you grunting as he handled two men—one larger and one smaller— and you spun the pipe in your hand before swinging it at the side of the smaller creature’s head. He dropped to the floor and as you went to help Poe with the next guy, a pair of arms snaked around you.

Yelling out, you settled your feet into the ground before using all of your strength to lean forward and throw him off of you. He landed hard onto his back, groaning as he placed his arms on his stomach, and you cocked your foot back before kicking him upside the head.

Poe finished off the larger bum and as soon as he turned, the smaller guy that you hit upside the head got up again and Poe pulled his fist back before connecting his fist with his jaw, causing him to fall into a pile of crates. Gripping onto the pipe tightly, you made your way forward, only for the four men to quickly get up and run away.

Too fired up to quit, you tried running after them, only to be stopped by an arm wrapping around your waist.

“Whoa, there Y/N.” Poe chuckled as you panted heavily, the fire still blazing in your eyes. “They are gone, let’s get back before more of them come.” Nodding, you dropped the pipe.

“Sorry, I guess I got a little carried away.” You said, running a hand to the back of your neck and Poe grinned down at you.

“It’s fine. But, where did you learn to fight like that?”

“Well, I have always been pretty tough. Kind of need to be when traveling around like I do. But where I learned, I can’t remember. I have always kind of been very quick and nimble.”

Poe placed a hand on your arm and stopped you. “Y/N, I saw you reach out and grab that pipe.” You stared at him blankly. “It wasn’t anywhere near you.”

Looking down at your hands, you replayed the incident in your mind again. Poe was right; there was no pipe near you. All you did was instinctively throw your hand out and you felt the pipe land in it. Lowering your hands, you looked up at Poe and bit your lip.

“I think we need to leave sooner rather than later, Poe. Kylo Ren has been keeping a watchful eye over us and I believe he will do something terrible if he finds out we are meeting like this still.” Poe nodded in agreement and the corner of his mouth lifted up into a smirk.

“Leave that to me, Y/N. I’ll get us off of here tomorrow.”

Tag List: @purelittleblueberry @phantomgirl2298

Permanent Poe Tag List: @geeksareunique @firefeatherx @beautifulfound @pitykristy @cobalt-one

#poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron #star wars imagine #finn #bb8 #leia organa #luke skywalker #kylo ren #rey

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shadyscroller2 · 3 years

Text

stages of christmas

tags: BBC Sherlock, Christmas fluff, mutual pining, snow day, Christmas tree, jealous Sherlock, Harry Watson appearance, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, first kiss

Summary: Sherlock and John are spending Christmas together after Mary has run off with David, while carrying David's baby. After that whole fiasco, Sherlock feels pressured to fix things again with John, but how can he do that when Sherlock's more than certainly fallen in love with him?

READ ON AO3

1- A Phone Call

"I'm telling you, Harry," John said, balancing his phone on his shoulder while holding a biscuit. "I don't think I'm going to be able to make it to your house party. I'm spending Christmas with Sherlock this year."

He could hear his sister, Harry, scoff on the other end of the line. "Are you serious?" she said with disbelief. "You're choosing your boyfriend over your own little sister?"

John rolled his eyes insufferably, taking the phone from his shoulder and into his hand so he could speak clearly into it.

"Sherlock is not my boyfriend," John stated firmly. "I've told you that before."

"Yes, I know, I know, you're not gay," Harry said breezily, and John could practically see her wave her hand sarcastically. "Not necessarily, anyway."

"What? Necessarily? What do you mean by that ?"

"Nothing, nothing," Harry was obviously smiling. "It just takes one to know one, you know? Especially since I've read your blog."

John furled his eyebrows. "My blog?" John asked. "What's my blog got to do with anything?"

Harry sighed wistfully as if she was talking about her favorite movie. "It's just so romantic, Johnny. I mean, the way that you talk about him. It's the kind of the way I would have talked about Clara."

John shook his head. "Right, we're getting off topic here, Harry," he interrupted, confused as to why he was even talking about this with his sister. "Bottom line is, I'm spending Christmas with Sherlock. Platonically. "

"Aw, come on!" Harry whined stubbornly. "My party's going to be great. It's on Eastcastle Street. Just a train ride away."

"Yes, I know," John replied noncommittally. "I'll try to make it."

"Right," said Harry in a knowing tone. "That is if your husband even wants to socialize with other people,right?'

John ignored her insinuations this time. "Right, it's just that we were planning on having some of our friends over from Scotland Yard on Christmas Eve. I just don't think that I'm going to have the time."

"Okay, fine," Harry said. "But just so you know, my party's on Christmas Day. The day after yours. So if you're not too hung over on eggnog or some of that delicious whiskey you've got over there, then drop by at the party. We'd love to see you over here."

"I'll think about it."

"Good. Well, I've got to go now, need to get to work. We can talk later, though, can't we?"

John smiled over the phone, a small smirk on the speaker. "Yes, definitely. I'll see you later," he said.

"See you, Johnny."

John pressed the 'end call' button, and he slipped his phone away into his pocket. He drank his tea carefully, looking out into the snow that was falling steadily right outside his window.

2- Winter Wonderland

The snow had stopped after a few hours, leaving a white blanket over the landscape of the street. Cars plowed through, pushing the snow aside, and pedestrians left footprints behind as they bustled around the city with their Christmas shopping. Lights twinkled from shops, and Christmas trees towered over busy ice rinks.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, wrapping his scarf tighter around himself and stuffing his gloved hands underneath his arms.

"Why are we out here again?" Sherlock asked, looking around the park with distaste, and at the snow that seemed to be covering the entire thing like a blanket.

John turned to Sherlock with a slightly annoyed look. "Because we haven't been out of the house in three days, Sherlock," John told him. "And it's just days before Christmas and I want to experience the winter."

Sherlock resisted rolling his eyes in the boredom of it all. "Do calm down, John," Sherlock droned. "Winter will be lasting for ages."

"Not Christmas." John pointed out, looking up at him. "Besides, these lights won't be out forever, and you know that Christmas has got a certain feeling to it. I'd like it if I wouldn't miss it."

Sherlock stuffed his hands into his pockets. He did have to admit that John was right about that. Christmas did have some sort of spirit about it, and if Sherlock wasn't the logical man that he was today, he would almost describe it as magic.

It was the first Christmas after Mary had left John, and had taken her ex-boyfriend (now current) David's baby with her. All that remained of her was the painful bullet scar on Sherlock's chest and an obvious deep pit of regret in John's.

Now less than a year later, John and Sherlock had patched up their friendship, and they had gone on without another word, without another glance at their past. It was as if everything was back to the way it was.

Except, it wasn't.

At that moment, Sherlock looked over at John, who had gone quiet and was looking at the scenery around them. Children were participating in snowball fights, yelling and screaming with glee. Parents looked on, dressed warmly in scarves and coats, smiling happily at their children from afar. Couples walked hand in hand, kicking playfully at the cold snow, and beaming at each other with bright eyes and soft smiles.

Sherlock couldn't hold back a surge of emotion that went straight through him as he looked down at John, strolling through the park. It was something that had been happening quite often for a long time, almost since the day they had met. Something was different about John, something that made Sherlock feel inexplicably drawn to him. And Sherlock dared to think that John felt the same way.

It really was no secret that Sherlock cared for John and that John cared for Sherlock. It had always been some sort of understanding between them. But it was John that would occupy most of Sherlock's thoughts, and it was John whom Sherlock would do anything for.

Sherlock shut his eyes and shook his head at himself, trying to release his stupid thoughts. Stupid emotions.

"Hey, you alright?" John asked, looking up at Sherlock with concern, and it was then that Sherlock realized that he had been staring at John and shaking his head. "Do you want to go home?"

Sherlock stuffed his hands into his pockets. "No," he said. "Let's just get out of the park."

John looked at Sherlock a moment and nodded, stuffing his own hands into the pockets of his coat and walking off of the sidewalk.

"So where do you want to go?" John asked. "There are shops at the corner over here. We can grab a coffee or something. Warm ourselves up."

But then Sherlock's phone chimed, and Sherlock pulled his phone out from his pocket. A text had appeared on the screen. A text from Lestrade.

An old woman has been robbed on Delancy Street. Everything's been taken.

May need your expertise on this one.

"Who is it?" John asked, looking up at Sherlock from the corner of his eye.

"It's Lestrade," Sherlock replied, snapping his phone shut. "It's a case. Someone's been robbed."

"Maybe we could go. We haven't had one in weeks."

"It's a robbery, John. It's a five at most."

"Doesn't matter. Someone's been robbed at Christmas. I'm going. Where is it?"

Sherlock looked at John, and couldn't help letting himself stare into the other man's eyes. John was so fascinating, so thoughtful; Sherlock found himself having to restrain the urge to pull John in by his lapels and kiss him right there in the snow.

"It's two blocks over." Sherlock finally said after a moment. "Just across the park."

John shrugged his shoulders, a smile coming to his face. "Well, let's go, then. I'll text Greg we're on our way."

3- Oh Christmas Tree

Hours later, after the case, John opened the door into the flat, shaking his head in disbelief.

"No. I don't buy it, Sherlock," John declared. "The woman knows exactly who robbed her."

Sherlock nodded as he shut the door with his foot. "She's hiding something, obviously," he said, and John turned to face him.

"Do you think she's trying to fool us, or...I don't know, maybe just senile?"

Sherlock stalked over to the couch and flopped his entire body down on the cushions.

"No, definitely not, if her wardrobe and her living state were anything to go on," Sherlock replied indifferently. "It's likely that she knows exactly who committed the crime but just wants the attention. I just need time to think."

"Well, while you do that," John said, shaking the keys in his hand. "I'm going out to get a Christmas tree. Our Christmas party's in a few days, and we haven't even gotten around to it yet."

"Our Christmas party?"

"Yes, Sherlock, remember?" John said with annoyance. "We're bringing the Yard over on Christmas Eve. I brought it up to you two days ago."

"Oh yes, I must have forgotten."

"You're a prat, you know that?"

"Yes, I'm aware."

John chuckled. "Right. I'm out. I'll be back in a bit."

As John left the flat, Sherlock closed his eyes, listening for the sound of John's footsteps as they retreated down the seventeen steps of the building. Then the door closed, and John was gone.

Sherlock inhaled deeply. Pressed his fingers together. Closed his eyes.

Then the world faded away.

A couple of hours later, Sherlock exited his mind to the annoying sound of the rustling of leaves, and grunts of struggle and frustration. He quickly sat up, wondering where the commotion was coming from.

Then that's when Sherlock realized that the noise was coming from right there in his living room, and John was the one causing it.

A tall Christmas tree was set up in the middle of the room, with lights strung together at the base, a rope of bright orbs coiled at the floor and wrapped halfway up the tree.

Sherlock tried to hold back from chuckling as he watched John try to stretch his small body to the top of the tree so the lights would reach it. It looked comical, like a little hedgehog trying to climb a tree.

"Come on." John was grumbling, trying to whip the lights upward to compensate for his short height. "Just hang already."

Sherlock got up from the couch, a smile coming to his face. "Here, he said, laughing. "Let me."

John turned around as if startled to hear his flatmate's voice, and he conceded defeat.

"Fine, yes, thank you," John said, handing the lights over to Sherlock. "Just...just twirl it around the leaves."

Sherlock reached his long arms above him, easily reaching, and he dragged it around the tall tree.

"Why did you get it so tall?" Sherlock asked, amusement still in his voice. John let out a laugh.

"I haven't got a clue," said John, holding back a grin. "It looked a lot shorter down at the shop."

This somehow sparked a laughing fit, and soon they were both giggling hard, and it took Sherlock a lot of effort to keep his focus on the lights. The energy in the room immediately felt considerably lighter, and Sherlock's eyes fell on John's.

But then Sherlock's foot caught in the rope of lights that hung down on the ground, and Sherlock tripped, nearly falling forward, dropping the lights tangled in his hands. Quickly, Sherlock tried to lean back to steady himself, but he leaned back much too far. His fingers slipped as they tried to grab on to the mantlepiece.

Then John immediately lunged forward and caught Sherlock in his arms, and Sherlock immediately grasped at the back of John's neck, stumbling on his feet, trying to keep from falling to the ground. John's arms held him tightly.

"Sherlock." John breathed from above him. "You okay?"

Sherlock looked up at him, and suddenly he realized the position that they were both in. John practically had his arms wrapped around Sherlock's waist and torso, keeping him up, and Sherlock had his arms draped around John's neck and shoulders, their bodies pressed flush together.

Suddenly, everything was very quiet, and time seemed to slow down. John visibly gulped, his Adam's apple nervously bobbing as he stared down intensely into Sherlock's eyes.

Then that's when Sherlock realized he still had yet to answer John's question.

"No, no, I'm-I'm fine." Sherlock croaked, and his hands inexplicably tightened on John's shoulders. John cleared his throat.

"Right, okay, good." John rasped. "Right. Let me, um..."

John slowly helped Sherlock to his feet, John's arms still wrapped securely around Sherlock's waist, and Sherlock's still around John's shoulders. Their faces were inches apart, so close that Sherlock could feel John's breath hot on his cheek.

"Thank you," Sherlock said awkwardly, not quite knowing what else to say.

John nodded his head vigorously, suddenly acting quiet, as if he was at a loss for words.

"It's all...fine," he said, looking up into Sherlock's eyes. "Any-" he cleared his throat. "Anytime."

Neither of them moved away, and Sherlock found that he was having a lot of trouble breathing. Because their arms were still around each other, and neither of them had found the need to move yet.

Then the sound of a phone ringing broke the air like a knife, and Sherlock's face reddened. The noise was incessant, like the sound of a screaming child.

"I should...probably get that," Sherlock said, immediately putting distance between them.

"Right, yeah," John said, snapping his hands away as if he had been touching fire. "It's-it's probably Lestrade about the case."

His heart still pounding, Sherlock took the phone from his pocket and flipped it open, and took the chance to walk across the room and as far away from John as possible.

4- A Christmas Party

John pulled the cookies out of the oven carefully and closed the door with his foot. Smoke rose up from the baked goods, spreading a delicious aroma around the room. John inhaled deeply, quietly.

"They smell good," Sherlock said suddenly, and John looked up to find him leaning against the doorpost and watching John.

John cleared his throat. "Right, well I hope so," he said. "Our guests are going to be here any moment."

Unable to meet Sherlock's eyes for any longer, John looked away, trying to focus on setting the cookies on the burner.

"Need help?" Sherlock asked, pushing himself from the doorpost and walking over to John. He stood several feet from him, with Sherlock obviously holding himself back out of wariness.

"No, no I'm good, thanks," John said, a little too quickly. "You can...um...just make sure everything is clean for everyone else when they arrive."

After a long moment, Sherlock stepped farther away, walking across the kitchen. John let out a sigh of relief, relaxing his tense shoulders.

It had been like that for the past few days, ever since the Incident had happened. With the Christmas tree.

John hadn't been able to think of anything else except Sherlock dipped in his arms, catching him in just a moment in time, in the middle of the air. After they were interrupted by Greg's call, they had investigated the case together. Since then, they both moved cautiously around each other, as if they were trying not to set off a bomb.

John shook his head in an attempt to free himself of his thoughts, and he pulled out the tube of decorative icing for the cookies. He just wanted to take his mind off of the whole thing.

But as John was unscrewing the cap of the treat icing, he glanced up at Sherlock, who was sitting still with his eyes closed in his armchair, thinking intently. His face was still, smooth, calm, and ultimately very attractive.

John swallowed the emotion in his throat. Why did it have to be Sherlock Holmes whom he was attracted to? Why did it always have to be Sherlock, with his perfect face and his perfect hair and his perfect -

The icing cap suddenly broke beneath John's hands and the tube squeezed, making the contents spill all over the table and just-finished cookies.

John swore loudly and immediately ran around the table to grab paper towels to clean up the mess. The icing had gotten all over the floor, like sticky concentrated soup spreading along the tiles.

Then suddenly, Sherlock was kneeling down on the floor with John, pressing a wet towel in a helpful attempt to mop up the mess.

"Sorry," John sighed, his eyes cast to the floor. "Accident."

"It's fine," Sherlock said, looking up at John briefly.

It was silent after that, the two men just scrubbing the floor as efficiently as possible, trying to get the sticky frosting out of the pathway.

John looked up, stealing a glance at Sherlock for a quick second, and then immediately cast his eyes downwards. He curled his lips as if it would keep himself from saying or doing anything stupid to worsen the tension between them.

After half a minute had passed, John moved to look at Sherlock again and was shocked to see that Sherlock was already looking at him.

John stopped scrubbing. He stared back, his eyes delving deep into Sherlock's intense orbs.

Neither of them moved for a long moment. They were very close to each other, kneeling on the floor on their hands and knees. The silence was deafening; like they each wanted to say something but couldn't.

Sherlock looked at John like he was trying to figure him out, like John was a fascinating puzzle, messing with his mind, trying to find out what John might do next.

John licked his lips, an unconscious move, his nerves buzzing inside of him.

"Sher-"

A loud and obnoxious knock came just then, followed by Mrs. Hudson's high and excited voice.

"Boys! Yoo-hoo!" Mrs. Hudson called through the closed door. "Your guests are here!"

John shut his eyes tightly. "We'll be right there, Mrs. Hudson!" John called back.

He opened his eyes again, and met with Sherlock's gaze, staring back at him hard. Then he stood up, making his way to the door, leaving Sherlock alone on the kitchen floor.

Lights decorated the mantles, and the flat was filled with merry decorations and the delicious smell of cakes and biscuits. Lestrade was standing with Molly Hooper and Sally Donovan, drinking eggnog and hot chocolate, chattering indistinctly by the fireplace.

Sherlock stood to the side, his violin in hand, softly playing Christmas carols over the conversations. His eyes seemed to always gravitate to John, who was smiling and laughing with a pretty new officer from Scotland Yard. She was leaning far too close to John for Sherlock's liking, and her smile was flirty and absolutely disgusting.

Sherlock quickly turned away from John, his body heating up with jealousy, and he could feel his heart sink. He stood facing the window overlooking Baker Street, where the snow was coming down hard, covering the entire road with a thick layer of white.

There was a knock at the door, and John immediately stood up to answer it. Sherlock watched, and he saw the female police officer shamelessly check out John's arse. Sherlock gritted his teeth.

John opened the door, and when he saw who was standing there, his jaw dropped. He opened the door wider.

"Oh my god," John said to the new guest. "You came."

"Merry Christmas, little brother!" Harry Watson greeted enthusiastically. "What, did you think I'd miss Johnny Boy on Christmas?"

John laughed heartily, and welcomed her in. "Everyone! This is my sister, Harriet!"

Everyone immediately gave a loud cheer, crowding around John and shaking Harry’s hand. Most of them hadn’t even known that John had a sister.

Everyone except for Sherlock, of course.

Sherlock watched heatedly as everybody crowded around his own flatmate, and his own flatmate’s sister that wasn’t even that pretty. Sherlock angrily stared, his violin clutched tightly in his hands.

Sherlock crossed the room in record time, swinging his coat over his shoulders.

“Right, I’m going out,” Sherlock muttered to himself, and he rushed forward toward the door.

Sherlock saw Harry come up to him, her arms outstretched. “Sherlock!” she was saying. “Nice to finally meet you! John’s been on and on--”

“That’s nice, get out of my way,” Sherlock ordered her, and he shoved her aside more forcefully than he’d intended. She gave a soft grunt as she hit the wall, and she stared after him with affrontation.

“What the hell?” she bit off, and John looked up.

“Sherlock!”

Sherlock was already out the door by the time John had grabbed his own jacket and tugged it on, running down the stairs as he followed Sherlock out into the snow.

The detective was already stalking down the street and trying to wave down a cab when John came up to him, his fists clenched.

“Sherlock!” John called after him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting a cab,” Sherlock snarked. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re being a prat, is what I think!”

“Oh, do calm down, John, it’s not healthy to get so worked up.”

“It wouldn’t be healthy if I punched you in the face right at this moment.” John snapped back. “Now apologize to my sister!”

“Why would I?”

John huffed a sharp breath. “I thought you were better than this, Sherlock.”

“Well, clearly, you were wrong. Like you usually are.”

John gritted his teeth. “Where is all of this coming from?”

“It really doesn’t matter, does it, John?” Sherlock glanced at him. “But then again, I suppose you already know what that feels like.”

“Shut up, Sherlock.”

“No, it seems like this Christmas really painted it out for me. You would rather chat up a storm with that cat-owner police officer than with me, and invite all of these people to our flat without really planning ahead.”

“Sherlock--”

“Do you know what your sister has been up to yet today, John? Because I could tell from the smell of the pubs of London all over her coat, clearer than her severe case of halitosis that’s been brewing in her horrid mouth for years. I can see her recent and disappointing affairs through her poorly groomed hairstyle, and the sloppily-wrapped presents in her gift bags.”

“Sherlock Holmes, I’m warning you--”

“But your sister is just the beginning, isn’t it? No. Because you never saw it. You never see any of it. I’m the one that’s the genius, and I never needed you John. There’s nothing wrong with me, because all I want this come Christmas is for you to be gone!”

The words came out before Sherlock could think, and he wanted to grab himself and stop himself before he could say another word. But it was already far too late.

John had frozen right in his spot, his face completely lax and devoid of emotion. Sherlock could recognize John’s soldier complexion anywhere, and Sherlock realized that he’d really made a grave mistake.

“Fine.” John finally spoke. “Fine. If that’s how you really feel, Sherlock. I’ll go.”

“John--”

“No. Don’t.” John held up a hand. “You’ve really gone too far this time, Sherlock. Not to worry, though. I’ll be gone by Christmas morning. Then you can get your bloody stupid holiday wish.”

Sherlock watched as John walked back into the flat, and he couldn’t help but flinch as the door slammed shut after him.

5- Merry Christmas

Sherlock sat alone in the dark flat on Christmas Day, the sun setting behind him as it slowly sunk into the horizon. He sighed, bringing the cigarette closely to his lips.

John, as promised, had left as soon as the sun rose on Christmas morning. He didn’t bother to take his presents with him, or to give any to Sherlock. It was an empty flat all day as the holiday passed by.

Sherlock blew out the smoke calmly as he lay in his chair, staring deeply at John’s empty one. He traced the pattern with his eyes, studying the unique color and appearance like he did when John was there.

But it was no use. Sherlock’s mind kept returning to his estranged flatmate, the one that he had ultimately driven away.

It was wrong. It was so wrong.

Sherlock sighed heavily, feeling his eyes become warm with moisture.

All he ever really wanted was for John to be happy, and he hated himself for getting so carried away. If only he wasn’t in love with John Watson, he wouldn’t have been so scared and let his emotions overcome the power of his mind.

The realization hit Sherlock so hard that he let out a gasp, and his eyes flew open as if he was just shot.

Oh god. That was it.

He was in love with John Watson

Sherlock drew his hands to his face in absolute frustration and pity for himself.

How could he have been so blind?

Sherlock jumped up to his feet, shrugging on his coat again, bounding down the stairs as he tugged it on over his shoulders.

Sherlock had to tell him. He just had to. That was the last thing he’d do before anything else could occur. Sherlock had to tell him.

The cold air slapped Sherlock in the face as he opened the door, and Sherlock could only lift a hand against the strong wind as he made his way down Baker Street.

He pushed people aside as he rushed down the sidewalk, his coat billowing behind him as he panted with exertion.

“Eastcastle, Eastcastle…” Sherlock muttered to himself. “The street. Must find the street.”

He must find John.

Sherlock ran through the streets of London, fighting past fast-going cars threatening to run him over, and ‘DONT WALK’ street signs flashing in his eyes.

He didn’t care. He couldn’t care less.

Only John was what really mattered.

Sherlock searched left and right, his eyes scanning the entire sidewalk area, looking for that one address.

Then he found it.

The address number glowed on a big red door, decorated with just a simple wreath and ornaments that complemented the otherwise bland object.

Sherlock took a deep breath, carrying himself over to the door. He wasn’t even sure what he was meant to do; he just knew that he didn’t want to spend another Christmas moment without his John.

Sherlock rang once, anxiously. Then he rang twice.

Three times.

Then he resorted to knocking.

The door finally flew open, making Sherlock’s heart jump with soaring hope.

“Right, is John there?” Sherlock asked.

It was a woman standing at the door, no older than twenty-five, looking at Sherlock like he had grown five heads.

“Um, well, I don’t know a John,” said the woman. “Unless you’re talking about Harry’s little brother?”

Sherlock nodded. “Yes. Yes that’s him. Can you just...tell him that Sherlock’s here to see him?”

“Margaret, what’s the commotion out here…” Harry looked once at Sherlock and quickly pushed him away.

“Harry, wait, please.”

“Sherlock Holmes. You’re not welcome here.”

“I know, I know, and I apologize for shoving you—"

“Shoving me?!” Harry shouted. “Give me a break! I’ve gotten worse from Johnny when I stole his action figures when we were little rug rats!”

“Then what’s—"

“I’ll tell you what you did, Sherlock!” Harry interrupted with a sigh. “You broke my brother’s heart.”

“I what?”

“He loved you, you know,” Harry responded. “And then you go and you say all those mean things to him, and you expect him to forgive you so quickly?”

Sherlock looked down at the ground. “I don’t expect John to do anything more for me.”

Harry looked at him incredulously. “Then why are you here?”

Sherlock inhaled sharply. He looked at Harry.

Then his face fell as John came into view, looking between Harry and the door, his eyes landing on Sherlock.

John and Sherlock stared at each other for what felt like ages, leaving Sherlock with nothing to do but forget what he was meant to say.

“Sherlock, answer her,” John said, his voice soft. “Why are you here?”

“John, I…” Sherlock paused. He swallowed. “I‘ve just got something to tell you and I’ve got to say it quickly.”

John ushered. “Go on, then.”

Sherlock looked to Harry, and she nodded. Harry left without another word.

John watched her leave, his brows wrinkling as he tried to put two and two together. “I don’t understand Sherlock. I thought that…”

“I was wrong, John.”

Sherlock looked at him, and John looked back in shock. He stepped down from the door sill, closing Harry’s door behind him.

“Well that’s new.”

“Just...please, let me speak.”

“Okay.”

Sherlock walked closer to John, trying to gauge his flatmate’s expressions. The snow fell around them like a flurry of ice, surrounding them until they were the only ones left in the world.

“John, listen, um…” Sherlock paused. “For a long time now, you were always considered my only friend. And for that I appreciated you, because you helped me with everything that I worked for. Even if you were just an average goldfish.”

“Jesus Christ, Sherlock,” John said rubbing his face. “Can’t you just say you’re sorry? Something that actually means something? For God’s sake, cut to the point, without leaving me—”

“I’m in love with you.”

John froze in place, looking up at Sherlock in absolute shock. Sherlock shifted into his feet, staring into John’s eyes with sheer desperation.

“What did you just say?” John croaked.

“I said,” Sherlock repeated softly. “I’m in love with you. John. Watson.”

“What?”

“It’s a bit of a revelation, I know,” Sherlock whispered. “But I realized it today when I had spent all of Christmas with myself and all I could think about was having you there.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“I know.”

“You’re in love with me?”

“Obviously.”

John let out a disbelieving laugh, and Sherlock chuckled too, a burst of air from his nostrils. He looked at John tenderly, furling his lips in anticipation.

John whispered, “I don’t know what to say.”

“I understand if you don’t want to see me again.” Sherlock murmured towards him. “I just realized that it’s Christmas, and it’s more of a time for miracles than any other time, so I just thought—”

“Sherlock, shut up.”

John grabbed his face and kissed him, making Sherlock startled as he stumbled on his feet. He felt John’s hands come around to steady him, and Sherlock kissed back, his arms coming around John’s torso.

The kiss was deep and cold, with John’s lips taking full advantage of Sherlock’s lavish and supple ones. Sherlock moaned into his mouth, clutching on to John’s jacket to assure himself of reality.

John was the first to break for air, and Sherlock gasped for breath. John laughed, his hands curling into Sherlock’s hair.

“You really do love me, then, don’t you?” John asked, looking up at him.

“Yes.” Sherlock said desperately. “More than I can express.”

“Well, then,” John huffed a laugh. “That’s the best news that I’ve heard in a long time.”

“So you do—"

“Yes, you bloody prat, I’m in love with you too.”

Sherlock kissed John again, chasing the laughter from the shorter man’s lips. John wrapped his arms completely around Sherlock’s neck, drawing them both closer. Sherlock grinned against his mouth, and John let out another laugh.

A couple of minutes passed by as they both finally made up for lost time in the middle of the empty sidewalk, with Sherlock wrapping them both in his long coat, and John burrowing himself into Sherlock’s chest.

It was a while before they pulled apart, and they finally noticed the rest of Harry’s guests staring out of the window with tears in their eyes, cheering hysterically.

John blushed, thoroughly embarrassed, watching Harry cheer harder from the open window.

“That’s my brother!” Harry cried, throwing her arms up in celebration. “That’s my brother, I tell you!”

Sherlock laughed too, grabbing onto John’s hand, and feeling incandescently happy.

6- Epilogue

“TWENTY-EIGHT! TWENTY-SEVEN! TWENTY-SIX!”

“Sherlock, it’s starting!”

“You don’t have to shout, John, I’m right here.”

“Well sometimes you’re bloody easy to miss.”

“Impossible, John, especially since I’m tall enough to hang you on the bloody Christmas tree.”

John rolled his eyes lovingly at the detective next to him, and Sherlock smirked down at him, leaning down and pressing a small kiss to the doctor’s lips. John chuckled against him.

“Oi! Get a room!”

“People do eat in here, you know!”

John grabbed a piece of his sandwich and hurled it at Greg and Harry, who immediately ducked to miss it. They laughed as they continued to sip their eggnog.

“Save it for New Year’s, John,” Sherlock scolded, but his face was wide with a smile, his eyes shining like the Christmas lights in front of them.

“Make me, you prat,” John laughed, his hand pressed against Sherlock’s back.

“TEN! NINE! EIGHT!”

“SEVEN! SIX!”

John then leaned forward, feeling Sherlock look down at him, feeling John whisper the rest of the countdown against Sherlock’s lips.

“Three...two…”

Sherlock smiled, and he finished it with a soft breath.

“One.”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”

John leaped forwards, allowing Sherlock to catch him in a hug and kiss him, both of them laughing into it like a couple of children. Both of them had tears in their eyes, but they’d never, ever say so.

“I love you.”

Sherlock grinned happily. “I know.”

Harry started singing first, and then Greg followed, in singing “Auld Lang Syne” at the top of their lungs. The rest of the guests immediately joined in, swaying to the music.

“Should old acquaintance be forgot…”

“And never brought to light…”

Sherlock leaned his forehead against John’s, closing his eyes as he basked in the man’s warmth.

“Happy New Year, John.”

“Happy New Year, Sherlock.”

0 notes

lilibug--xx · 7 years

Text

Awkward Encounters

this is part 1 of a 3-part fic i'm writing! it's bughead of course! i haven't written anything in a while, so i'm a little rusty. let me know your thoughts, if i should continue or abandon it. i'm going to post it to ao3 at some point as well. edit: here is the link for the work on ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/12245094/chapters/27821961

------------------------

“Welcome to Victoria's secret! Can I help you find something today?”

Jughead snorted, head rolling back to lean against the bench he was sitting on. The sounds of the fountain and people's foot steps passing through his ears. Why was he here sitting on a bench across from Victoria's fucking Secret? Oh yeah, Veronica.

He pulled his head up and took a slurp of his frozen lemonade he got earlier from the pretzel place in the food court. The 2 cheddar and jalapeno soft pretzels he had gotten were long gone. He slung his left arm up across the back of the bench and stretched his leg out in order to take up as much room as possible lest someone try and sit next to him.

He eyed the store that was literally bleeding pink with one eye.

Veronica had come to him yesterday while he was writing a paper for his literature class in Pop's. She plopped herself down in the booth across from him and just started talking without even a ‘hello’. Of course, he didn’t usually respond when she did but still.

“I really need someone to take a package back to the mall and exchange it for something else. I literally don’t have time to go tomorrow and I have to do it before this sale is over,” she pulled a french fry off his plate and started eating it. Jughead stared at his computer screen while continuing to type. He wasn’t taking her bait.

“I’ll give you my credit card and you can get that game you and Archie have been going on about for weeks.”

A eyebrow raised but he still didn’t bring his eyes up from the computer screen.

A sigh from Veronica escaped in a short huff. “You can get everything you want to eat at the food court.”

“Hmm,” he rubbed his chin at that, putting on looking pensive for a moment. “Why can’t Archie go?” He questioned, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back into the vinyl booth.

“Because, he is going to be with me tomorrow. We're going up to my parents for brunch.” Oh right, Jughead thought the redhead mentioned something about Ronnie's parents the other day. It did take a couple hours to get there and they were rich so it was one of those fancy dinners that turn into cocktails on the lanai and then tea in the sitting room blah blah blah.

“Whatever.” He went back to typing, ignoring Veronica's icy glare. She didn’t say anything else, just kept staring at him. Jughead ignored her.

…….

“Alright, fuck, I’ll go okay? Just leave me alone Ronnie.”

She clapped her hands together in front of herself, a giggle escaping her pearl-adorned throat. “Excellent! I’ll leave the package and receipt with Smithers for you to pick up tomorrow with instructions,”

Blue eyes rolled up into his head, he picked up a handful of fries and shoved them in his mouth. “I'm not a little kid.” He managed to say around the food. One perfectly arched brow rose in response. “Ok, really now, fuck off Ronnie.”

She didn’t say anything else just reached across the table and patted his signature crown beanie, looking at him like he was a bad little puppy that just needed to be taught some manners.

So, all things considered Jughead really should have questioned what it was that he was returning and what he would have to in turn pick up. The next day when Smithers handed him a large coffee and the little shopping bag he hadn’t batted an eye, distracted by the welcoming caffeine. He took a sip, black just like his soul.

Now, sitting at the mall he thought about Veronica's ‘instructions’ she had left him.

‘Juggie,

Take this back to Victoria’s Secret and exchange it for a size small, dream angels crushed velvet teddy in ensign. And pick up a satin kimono, your choice.

xoxo

Veronica’

Seriously, what the fuck? He deserved more than a video game and a day of eating at the mall for this. Not to mention he had to look up what ‘ensign’ was, which was apparently a navy blue, aptly named.

He'd been here for over an hour and still hadn’t worked up the courage to go into the store. It wasn’t that he was afraid, it was just awkward. Here he was in ripped jeans, blue flannel and his black leather Serpents jacket on. The carpet in the store was pink, the walls were pink, the mannequins displaying tiny little panties and bras were pink. He was going to look like a fish out of water, not to mention he was shopping for a girl that wasn’t even his.

Jughead tossed his now empty cup into the trash and plucked the little pink stripped bag up from bedside him and peeked inside to see a small scrap of lace before retreating quickly.

He signed long and hard before shuffling over to the doors that were propped open. The smell wafting from the store was practically sensual. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and stepped through like there was going to be some sort invisible barrier that would repel back. When he was inside and unharmed he looked around, trying not to focus too much on one thing in particular.

“Welcome to Victoria's Secret! Can I help you find something today?” He was prepared, he had been hearing them say that to everyone who walked in the store the half hour he was stalking the front entrance. What he wasn’t prepared for was the gorgeous blonde-haired blue-eyed angel in front of him.

He took his hands out of his jacket pockets, the hand that wasn’t holding the bag reaching up to rub the back of his neck where hair was peeking out the bottom of the grey beanie. He held out his other one, bag dangling from his index finger. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I've got instructions to exchange this for something else and obviously I have no idea what I'm looking for,” he let out in a huff, like he had been holding his breath prior to speaking.

His eyes glanced over her name tag, ‘Betty’, and then up to her face which held an amused smile. She took the bag from him, her fingers sliding against his as she slipped it off his finger tip. “Well, that seems easy enough. Ah, she even wrote out what she wanted, excellent,” she said, lips quirking into a smile as she pulled out Veronica’s notecard. She read it over and then peeked into the bag pulling the scrap of lace out and checking the tag against the receipt before heading off and leaving Jughead standing there at the front of the store.

He shoved his hands back into his jacket pockets, not wanting to touch anything. He looked around briefly before the blonde, Betty, came back a few seconds later and touched his arm by his elbow gently. “Sir, you can fol-"

“Jughead.”

“…I'm sorry?” She paused, brows furrowing in confusion.

“My name is Jughead.” He paused for a second, frowning. “Sorry. Sir just.. makes me feel old,” he explained, resisting the urge to scratch at the back of his neck again.

“Oh! Okay, Jughead.” She smiled at him, the edges of her eyes crinkling up. “I’m Betty. You can follow me right over here and we can pick up your girlfriend’s requested item and you can browse the kimonos we have,” she said while leading him toward a section of the store further back, across from the perfumes.

“She's not my girlfriend.” He stated bluntly, he definitely didn’t want her to think he was attached. Especially to Veronica, gross.

Jughead swept his eyes over her as she looked through a pile of items, apparently trying to find this ridiculous teddy that Veronica needed in order to please her dear ‘Archiekins'. She was wearing a pink sleeveless blouse that tied above a keyhole cutout on her chest, he could see a hit of black lace peeking out as she bent forward to open a draw labeled with an ‘S'. Her tight jeans gave him a very pretty picture as she leant forward with a hand on her knee, digging through the drawer.

“Oh, I apologize. I just assumed, which was wrong of me. It's just that most men come in here shopping for girlfriends or wives,” she said with a small shrug of her shoulders, looking up to him briefly. Then with a small frown she started opening the other drawers around that one look through.

“Well I didn’t exactly realize what she had conned me into or I probably would have said no,” he reached out to touch her elbow as she was frantically digging through the drawers. “Looks like you don’t have it,” he said bringing her attention back to him. She looked up and sighed shutting the drawer, his arm falling from hers.

Betty ran a hand through her wavy hair, mussing it up a little before tucking some strands behind her ear and putting her hands on her hips aa she looked around. “Well, we don’t have her size. I could order it for you?” She offered with a tilt of her head, looking up to Jughead. He couldn’t help but stare at her lips, they were sinfully red.

“Uh yeah, that’s fine. She just said she wanted the sale price, so..”

“No problem!” she chirped before guiding him to an area of kimonos, robes, and slips. “Now let’s find something you think she would like,” her hand was still on his back and he swore he could feel the burn of her fingertips through the leather and flannel he was wearing. He didn’t make any movement, just stood still and let his eyes wander around. Slowly her hand drifted away and she stepped up bedside him, close enough that their arms were touching.

He glanced down at her, one hand poised on her hip while the other reached out to brush against the garments, her hand gliding through the satin and silk like water. “She’s kind of picky,” he mentioned with a shrug of his shoulders.

Betty seemed to take that as a challenge as she ‘hmm’d in response, pulling her lower lip between her bottom teeth. His eyes caught the action and he couldn't stop himself from imagining what it would be like to bite her lip like that, if she would release a breathy little sigh or slid her hand through his hair-

He closed his eyes for few seconds before reopening them. He almost groaned when he realized she was looking up at him with her lip still caught between her teeth. She was holding two options up and he glanced at them briefly before setting his eyes back on her face and dragging his eyes up to hers, away from her lips.

Why was he thinking like this? This is shit that happens to Archie, not him. All through high school he wasn’t that interested in any females, nor males. His freshman year of college he dabbled a little bit and managed to lose his virginity with a sassy blonde (wait, did he have a type after all?) but eventually they came to the mutual decision to stop seeing each other.

Her voice brought him back to the present, “What do you think of this?” She offered up a different choice, a black silk kimono riddled with red lace flowers and trimmed in the same color.

“Put it on.” It came out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Her eyebrows rose but she slipped it off the hanger and pulled it on. It looked good on her, black was definitely a good color on her and the red matched her lips perfectly. Of course she was wearing regular clothes underneath, but he could almost picture her without them, a bare shoulder peeking out and her blonde hair just barely brushing the skin there..

“What do you think?” She questioned, turning a little to let him see the back as she clinched the middle closed with a hand. “It looks fucking great on you,” he responded without conviction letting it be obvious as his eyes trailed her from head to toe. A pretty blush colored her cheeks at that and she smoothed a hand down the silk resting on her thigh, fingers scratching slightly. “But Ronnie has black hair, so she probably wants a little more contrast,” he said looking back to the rack and plucking a silvery one with nude accents. “This'll be fine, I’m sure.”

She slipped the one she was wearing off her shoulders and put it back on the rack before taking the one Jughead was holding out. She lingered for a second, eyes on his outstretched fingers. “Okay, well besides the online order, can I find you anything else today?”

Jughead looked around the store, thinking about how Christmas was coming up and he definitely didn’t want to come back here later. Or did he? There would be no guarantee that Betty would be working when he did, though. Would it be terrible of him to charge some perfume to Veronica's card for her Christmas present? ‘Yes' he thought, inwardly signing. He wasn’t that much of an asshole.

“I guess not, I don’t have anybody to buy something else for.” There you go Jughead, just casually keep dropping the hints.

“Oh, alright. Well then let’s go to the register and I’ll order her other item,” she said gesturing towards the counter. He stepped up behind her, following as they walked the short distance. His finger pressing into her lower back as he put his hand there, guiding her around a woman who had just rounded the corner of a display sharply.

She cleared her throat, edging around the counter while he leaned into both elbows, his hands practically dangling off the other end of the counter by her waist. “So, I can do ship to store if that’s alright? Otherwise it'll cost a little more.” Her fingers were clicking on the keys as she typed something in before glancing up at him and then back down to the computer, chewing on her damn lip again.

He knew Veronica wouldn’t care about the money. But.. “Yeah. I'm sure that’d be fine, she normally likes coming here.”

Her lips turned down slightly at his words, her shoulders dropping from the straight line they were set in. Was that disappointment flashing in her eyes?

“Oh, okay..” Betty nodded, going through with the order as he handed over Veronica’s credit card for the kimono she had folded into a neat square.

“Do you eat dinner?” he asked suddenly, not sure where he was going with this.

An amused look crossed her features before her lips turned up into a smile. “Yes, I eat dinner,” she wasn’t giving him anything else, intentionally, making him grapple for more words.

“Would you eat with me? Dinner, I mean.” He brought a hand up and pushed the lock of hair falling into his eyes away, tucking the end into his beanie.

“Can I have dessert?” the question surprised him, and he blinked. Her eyes were impossibly dark and gazed at them before flicking down to her cherry red lips again. “You can have whatever you want Betty,” He licked his own lower lip, accepting the credit card back from her and tucking it inside his wallet to give back to Veronica later.

She sighed happily as if that was the best news she’s ever heard.

“Pick me up at 6.”

#bughead #betty x jughead #bughead fandom #bughead fanfiction #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale #betty cooper #jughead jones

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ohwhatamessiam · 7 years

Text

Give -Part 4

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) had an amazing yet brief relationship in Bucharest before all hell broke loose. Two years later they reconnect in a bar in Brooklyn, but things have changed and neither are the same as they were before. Will their relationship survive or is a break up inevitable?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 5.1k (I’m sorry this is so freaking long, it was a marathon to write and it’ll be a marathon to read too)

Warnings: Language, still in flashback land, a weird hand massage on his metal hand because I have a metal arm kink and just good old angst and fluff.

Author’s Note: Hi again! This is part 4 of my submission to @bladebarnes‘s #bladehits2kchallenge with the song Give by You Me at Six. First person narration as the rest have been, and I’m sorry if this sucks because I didn’t have a beta for this one. Also here’s a Spotify playlist to listen to while reading the entire fic. Hopefully this turned out alright, and if you like it or want to be tagged in the rest, let me know!

If you haven’t yet, read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

“I started in Sorrento, then went to Milan. Then Munich, Vienna, and Budapest before here. I still have a couple weeks planned in Istanbul, and I end my trip in Patras. But Bucharest is the first place I’ve been able to stay longer than a couple weeks in, and I haven’t had to stay in a hostel which I am more than fine with,” I explained as I watched Bucky push away his plate, leaving only a couple crumbs on it. He’d gone back for another 2 slices of pizza and 2 more hot dogs, and we’d both finished an additional beer.

“That sounds like an interesting trip. Why are you traveling by yourself?” he asked, his body fully relaxed with his feet extended so that they were about 3 inches from my own.

“I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone. Try new things, be brave.” He’d been deflecting most of my personal questions all night, rerouting to ask me questions instead. “Why are you here by yourself?”

He paused, dropping his gaze to his hands. I anticipated that he’d brush off the question or divert it back to me, but to my surprise he gave me an honest answer. “It’s generally best if I’m alone. For others and for myself.”

I leaned forward desperately wanting to grab his hand and squeeze it. My right arm stretched across the table, reaching out to his metal hand, but my self-control kicked in 2 inches from it and I dropped mine onto the table. “I don’t believe that. I like being alone but no one can do it all by themself. There’s no way to live your life without others.”

His eyes focused on my fingers, mere inches from his own but he didn’t connect the distance. Instead he lowered that hand into his lap and hung his head. My heart ached for him and I wished I could hold him. Every feeling I’d picked up on before we got to know each other was correct, he was lonely and actively creating more distance between everyone he could. I left my palm flat against the table and asked, “If you want to be alone, then why are you here with me?”

He eyed my fingers and then my expression, contemplating what to say and when I didn’t get an answer I pushed my chair back and stood up. Stacking the plates and beers to clear the table, I moved around him and he finally gave in. “I don’t want to be alone, I just think it’s best for me to be alone. And if I was with someone, I’d just end up hurting them.”

I paused, trying to swallow his words. I understood what he meant but that still didn’t answer why he was sitting at my table. Fighting off my every instinct to comfort him, I clutched the edge of the sink so hard my knuckles turned white. When I felt my urge was slightly more under control I turned on the faucet and started working on the plates.

The noise of the water crashing against metal and ceramic pulled Bucky out of his distant daze and he hopped up immediately. “You made all that food, the least I can do is clean up the mess.”

He approached the sink, reaching his hands out to stop me but instead I just picked up the dishwashing liquid and squirted it on the pan, “No.”

Leaning against the counter on his hip, he tilted his head and pouted, “Come on, let me do something.” I glanced his way and tried not to notice the way his bottom lip jutted out. My need to soothe his pain shrunk but was replaced with the desire to do something else. I couldn’t quite navigate if my feelings were romantic or platonic but that didn’t matter because all I knew was I wanted him in my life.

I sighed, giving in, and tossed him a towel, “I wash, you dry.” Catching it, he gave me a victorious smile and closed the distance between us. He sidled up to me and waited until I finished scrubbing the plates. A hard, metal elbow brushed against my hip as I turned and handed him the dishes, and I caught his eyes darting to look at my side and then my face. His expression looked worried but I shook my head, “It’s fine Bucky.” His hands worked on the plates but his focus stayed on me. In the process of scrubbing a particularly hard stop of cheese I added, “I’m not afraid of you and if you want to be here, I won’t make you leave.”

“But you really should,” he muttered.

Letting out an exasperated groan, I turned to hand him the pan. “Well I won’t.” His metal hand reached out and grasped the handle my fingers were still wrapped around. “I’m not gonna walk away from you.” I worked up the nerve and placed my other hand on top of our joined ones. “And whatever it is you’re trying to hide from me, you don’t need to. I didn’t freak about this,” I dropped my gaze from his profile down to our hands, gesturing to his metal prosthetic. “And I promise I won’t flip about anything else either.”

Remaining frozen, he seemed to mull over what I was saying. When I removed my left hand from on top of his, he kept his grip on my right one. After what seemed like an agonizingly long second, he brushed his thumb gently back and forth across mine. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but my heart rate doubled and I knew no matter what he had to say I wouldn’t stop wanting the best for him.

I snaked my hand out from under his and let him finish drying the pan while I went back to work on the rest of dishes. “I’m here because I don’t want to be alone and you remind me of someone I used to know.” He placed the pan into another cabinet and turned to watch me. “Someone who didn’t back down or give up, and when you followed me down the street that day I knew no matter how hard I’d try to stay away from you, you’d keep coming back. So instead of fighting you, I’m here.”

“That was smart of you,” I smirked, gently bumping his hip with mine. “Also, tell me more about this friend.”

Glancing over, I caught the corners of his eyes crinkling and a small smile spreading across his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called smart.” If he hadn’t been grinning I might have hugged him right then, but I handed him the pizza tray instead. “His name is Steve and we met when we were young and some kids tried to steal his lunch money so I stepped in…” he continued on, saying the most he’d said the entire night, getting caught up in a sentimental moment. But I couldn’t focus on the words coming out of his mouth anymore.

He had seemed so familiar to me since that day in the rain but I thought he’d just looked like someone I’d met before, yet all the pieces were falling into place. A Steve and Bucky that grew up together in Brooklyn. A Steve that never backed down from a fight, and a Bucky who played his protector. His jawline and his cheekbones, his blue eyes and cocky smirk, and the way his light blue eyes could gaze right through you or make you melt with playful glance. I’d stared at pictures of this man in my history books, seen videos of him in class, read about his best friend and him for years. In my mind I was cutting his hair, shaving his face, thinning him down and placing him in fatigues.

He hadn’t noticed that my entire body had stilled and cutting him off too quickly, I murmured, “What’s your last name?” He turned to face me, a question on his lips as his brows furrowed. “Bucky, what’s your last name?” I managed to ask a little louder.

Eyes growing wider, he took a step back from me. “I don’t think that’s a good-.”

“Bucky, what is your last name?” I spoke clearly and loudly this time. I watched him clench his jaw and spread his legs more, preparing to go on the offensive if needed but I couldn’t let him see me as a threat. I moved quickly and grabbed both of his wrists in my hands. “Just… say it.”

He wouldn’t look at me as his whispered, “Barnes.” I dropped his hands and took a sharp inhale of air, holding it in my lungs for several seconds before letting it out. “I should go,” he started and stalked toward the couch, reaching for his jacket.

“Wait-,” I called out, following him across my living room. He didn’t stop but he slowed as I cornered him against the couch, keeping his back to me. “James Buchanan Barnes,” I said, forcing my voice to come out calmly and steadily. He twitched at his full name and I couldn’t stop myself anymore, I gripped his shoulder and forced him to turn. Pivoting toward me with his jacket in hand, his face remained hard and unreadable. I grabbed his jacket from him and tossed it back on the couch. “Say something.”

His steely eyes boring into mine, “You figured me out and now you’re freaking out.”

I closed my eyes and let out a deep sigh, screwing whatever self control was. “No,” I shook my head and reached for his wrists again. He clenched his fingers into fists but let me move them. I placed his left palm against my chest, just over my heart, and his right hand against the the base of my neck and waited for him to extend his fingers. After a moment of resistance, he unfolded them, resting his fingertips just above my collarbone and on my pulse point. I knew my heart rate was quick but not because of fear or panic, more so because Bucky was touching me.

“I’m not freaking out, I’m just processing.”

“But your heart is racing...,” he cut in, feeling my heart and lungs pounding against my chest.

“Not because of that,” I shook my head and tried to slow my breathing and pulse. “More because of this.” I gave his wrists a little squeeze to indicate my quickened heart beat was because his hands. “And not because I’m scared of you, but because I uh,” I started to explain but lost my nerve. Until a minute ago I barely knew anything about this man, but the way butterflies tickled my stomach and my skin tingled and warmed under his hands made it clear that I wanted more from him. I wanted his mouth against mine, wanted his arms around me, wanted our fingers intertwined.

“You what?” he prompted, his lips parting as his eyes stayed trained on mine.

“I um,” I dropped my hands from his wrists and focused on his chest, because I was afraid to see his reaction. “I kinda like you.”

The metal hand dropped from my chest but his flesh hand remained against my neck, only sliding to the side. “I like you too.” Yet his tone was oblivious to what I’d truly met, completely unaware of how I reacted to his tiniest smile, or chuckle, or even touch. He hooked his thumb under my jaw and angled my head so I’d look at him. The hardness of his features softened as he stared at me, locking us both in a silent moment of intimacy.

Staring into his blue eyes, I knew my filter with Bucky was gone now and honesty would spill out of me whether I wanted it to or not. I shook my head and stepped away from him, “Not like that, not in the same way.” He let me go and I walked to the fridge, trying desperately to find something else to focus on besides him. My gaze landed on the cheesecake sitting on the shelf, and with a deep sigh I carried it to the countertop. “I forgot about dessert.”

Standing there, with his shoulders hunched and head tilted forward, causing his hair to fall over his face, he was the effigy of a lonely man. When he unlocked his limbs, his jaw clenched as he gave me a tight-lipped, “I should probably still go.”

“That’s not necessary Bucky,” I responded, pulling out the plum and blackberry sauce I’d made for dessert. He looked at the door, weighing whether he should leave. When he remained in the same spot for another moment, I went to him. Raising my hands slowly, I gently slid my fingers across his jawline, his scruff scratching my skin. When my palms rested on his jaw and my fingers on his cheekbones, he tried to shake my hands off but I stilled his head so he was looking at me. “If you want to go, I won’t stop you. But if you’re trying to leave because you think that’s what I want, or because you think that’s what’s best, I assure you that you’re wrong.”

The way he looked at me almost pulled me onto my toes and towards his mouth, but I focused on all the planes of his face and the way he felt under my hands. After another silent minute of intimacy he leaned his cheek against one my hands and nodded, relaxing into me again. “I’m happy you made that decision, because if you went home now you’d miss out on cheesecake with a plum and blackberry sauce.”

“Plums?” he asked, inching his mouth the tiniest bit closer to my hands, his bottom lip brushing against my palm. I nodded and his hands rose to my forearms, gently slipping up to my wrists. “How did you know?”

“I caught you picking plums the day you first paid attention to me.”

“Normally I’d be much more concerned about you watching me,” he started, releasing my wrists and moving towards the table. “But against my better judgment, I’ll admit that you really do seem like the last person in the world who could hurt me.”

I shrugged as I went back to the counter and began cutting the cheesecake. “People watching you might be a serious and threatening risk the rest of the time, but don’t worry about me.” I mean, he had to be stalked or watched, he was a hundred year old man with a very technologically advanced prosthetic, but my interest in him had started well before I knew any of those things. “Granted, you could consider my behavior a bit creepy.”

“Creepy doesn’t really fit you,” he smirked from the table as I carried two plates of cheesecake to him. “But I’ll just take it as flattery.” Placing a dish in front of him, he chewed on his lip waiting to be able to take a bite. I held a finger up to him, making him wait as he picked up his fork. As I spooned the compote over the top of the cheesecake, he let out a little moan of excitement.

“No more of that please,” I whispered as I looked up from under my lashes. His cheeks grew red at my words and I tried not to look too proud of my small achievement. Sitting across from him, I finished prepping my dessert before we both took our first bites at the same time. As I chewed my food, Bucky let out another playful moan and my eyes shot up to him from my plate. My neck and chest felt warm, like my blush was attempting to spread from my face to my entire body.

He finished chewing as a playful grin spread across his lips, and as I glared him down he threw back his head and laughed. And it was not just any laugh, it was a deep, loud laugh that rose from his belly, consumed every inch of his body, and sounded like music to my ears. The infectiousness of the sound forced me to break my glare and smile with him.

After his laughter died down and he took another bite of cheesecake, my focus turned back to conversation. Unsure of how he’d respond to me fishing to get answers out of him, I wanted to approach the discussion with subtlety. “Tell me more about growing up in New York?”

He swallowed his bite, “I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

Letting out a deep sigh, I decided to screw delicacy, “I mean, I probably already know a little about your life before the war.”

“You do?” his eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah,” I nodded, chewing another small bite of food. “You’ve been in my history books since I was like 10.” Tilting his head as he continued eating, his features displayed a question. “You, and Steve, and the rest of the Howling Commandos. You’re a significant piece of history, helping fight Hydra.” His jaw twitched at the mention of Hydra. “Textbooks focused on Steve since you know, he’s Captain America, but they still talked about you being his best friend and growing up together. I mean, I question the validity of all that, so if you want to tell me you can.”

He hesitated, staring at a large piece of plum on his fork, “I uh, well Steve was my best friend since we were kids. I talked about him earlier, but he was just a little fighter, always ready and revving to go. Of course he was too little to not get his ass beat so I always had to step in…” Bucky continued talking about Steve, with the same nostalgic smile on his face from earlier. I continued eating, watching him speak enthusiastically, enjoying a piece of Bucky from before the war.

After listening to him animatedly discuss growing up with Steve, and even admitting to being a bit of ladies man, I didn’t want this Bucky to disappear again. I didn’t want this excited and relaxed man to be replaced by his lonely, timid, and worried self, but I needed to ask him something else. “Bucky,” I started as I pushed my empty plate away from me. “Where have you been for the last 70 years?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Shaking his head just the slightest bit, a piece of his hair slipped in front of his face.

My fingers twitched against the table, instinctively wanting to tuck the strand behind his ear. “Try me.”

“Did you ever learn anything about Arnim Zola?” he asked, his gaze dropping back to his empty plate.

“Um, briefly, but yes, he was a scientist in Hydra that worked with the Red Skull.”

He nodded, exhaling a deep breath, “I’d already been experimented on before I fell off that train, and somehow I survived the fall and was taken to Zola.” Controlling my reaction as best I could, I reached across the table again with the intention of resting my hand on top of his metal one, but he pulled it from the table before I had a chance to make contact. “That’s how I ended up with this,” he held his chrome fingers up to the light, staring at them with disgust. “He did shit to my head, made me something-, something less than human. Turned me into a tool for Hydra, an assassin for them, and for the last 70 years I was doing their bidding with no memory of who I was.”

“How did you get out of it?” I asked, keeping my hand outstretched, hoping he’d drop his back onto the table. I wasn’t scared of him, no matter what he’d done or who he’d been. The Bucky sitting in front of me was obviously not the same person who’d been brainwashed to do all those horrible things.

“Uh, I actually was sent on a mission to kill Steve, and my programming started to fall apart.” He placed his hand back on the table, but several more inches away from mine.

Metal arm, long brown hair, assassin after Steve, unsurprisingly none of this sounded fake because I’d already known about it. “That happened in DC. You were the Winter Soldier,” I announced, my eyebrows rising in understanding. His jaw tensed at my mention of his old alias.

“How do you know that name?” he nearly growled, shifting his body forward and firmly pinning my hand against the table with his metal one.

I wanted to flinch at his sudden change of tone and presence, but I knew if I did he’d feel worse about his actions later. “That wasn’t the best kept secret after Hydra fell, and while you were in DC I was in Baltimore at graduate school. One of my best friends from undergrad was working in SHIELD then and survived the hostile takeover. He told me about what happened that day, and that included a foreign assassin with a metal arm. Also there’s been mention of you in several different forums on the internet for several years.”

Releasing part of the tension from his body, he sat back into his seat and loosened his jaw, “Sorry, I, I guess it’s still instinct.”

This time I wasn’t letting him get away, and I grabbed his metal hand as he tried to remove it from mine. His focus shot to my face, wondering what I was doing but I kept my actions gentle yet purposeful. “That’s okay, I’m not afraid.” Pulling his hand back down, I laid his knuckles against the table and rested two fingers where the lines inside of a human hand would have been. “Can you feel this?” I asked gently trailing my fingertips down his palm.

“Yes,” he answered quietly, his eyes closing as I traced small circles onto the hand’s metal plates. “But barely.”

“So you can feel weight and pressure since I saw you do so at the fruit stand.” Nodding, his eyes remained shut as he tried to focus on my touch. “Can you feel temperature and texture?” I asked as my other hand slipped over his thumb and I applied a bit more pressure. Obviously the metal didn’t give the same way flesh did, but I did my best to recreate what would have been a hand massage on actual skin.

“Texture, yes,” he groaned giving into what must have felt nice to him. “Temperature is relative, your hands feel warm against mine because the metal generally stays colder. Things that are colder feel cool, but not cold. The arm has a harder time working in the cold, which is normally how I gauge temp. But it can handle heat and lots of it.”

“What about pain?” I asked, continuing to work the layered plates under my fingers.

His eyes opened but his body stayed relaxed. “Yes, but it’s different than human pain. If someone were to tug at my arm, it’d hurt like hell. But fire doesn’t burn, sharp objects tend to break on contact, bullets feel like pressure but bounce off. Something has to push or pull really hard and in an unnatural way before it feels like human pain.”

I worked my pressure down each of his smooth fingers, focusing on where his joints would be. “I don’t know why you’re not afraid of this,” he started, giving his fingers a small twitch under my own.

“Just like the Bucky you were before the war, and the Bucky you were after you’d been experimented on, this is a part of you too.” As I reached the tip of his pinky, I finished kneading his hand and flipped it over.

“Yes, a horrible, violent part of me that murdered lots of people without even blinking.”

I gently patted his hand with my own, “Yes, but the person sitting in front of me knows what he did, and you clearly are still wrestling with it. The person who killed all those people is not the person you are today. It is a part of you, but so is every other thing you’ve done or been through. The person in front of me, the person you are now is someone I trust.” His eyelids grew heavier as he features softened to a dreamy look. At that moment I knew he felt safe with me and that I might be one of the first people he’d felt safe with in a very long time. As I squeezed his metal hand I added, “And I trust you to be in control of what this piece of you does.”

His head tilted to the side, watching me closely as I slid back into my chair taking my right hand from his metal one. I reached my left one out instead, finding his flesh hand on the table. Rotating his hand, he slipped his fingers between mine, interlocking them, “I’ll try my best to live up to your faith in me.” I could only smile and nod at him. This soft side of Bucky appeared less than any other side of him, but I knew it somehow was the sum of everything he’d been through. After another silent moment of hand holding, he sat forward, “I should probably go.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall brought me back to reality, and I reluctantly let him go. Nodding, I rose from my chair and he followed me across my living room. Standing in the small hallway, I waited to let him out as he slipped his jacket on and grinned my way, “(Y/N) thank you again, for everything tonight. This was a really nice evening, and I don’t think I’ve had one of those in a long time.”

“Well thank you for keeping me company, and I’ll keep whatever was said here tonight quiet,” I smiled as I did a locking motion towards my mouth. “And I’m sorry if I made you talk about anything you didn’t want to. I didn’t mean to pry but I guess I did.”

His large form approached me with a soft smirk on his lips, “I told you those things because I wanted to. It’s probably good for me to talk about it.” He stopped directly in front of me, his entire body just mere inches from mine as we both faced each other in such a small space. Looking up to meet his gaze caused a piece of my hair to fall over my eye. He chuckled as he lifted his human hand and brushed it out of my face, “And I like you.” I felt my breath hitch as his calloused thumb rubbed against my cheek and he licked his lips. “And yes, in the same way.”

Dropping my eyes to his wet lips, I felt like my entire body was about to turn to jelly. His lips moved towards mine slowly, and I looked back up at his eyes just as they closed and his lips brushed mine gently. I stayed frozen for only a second, in shock that this was really happening, and as my own eyes shut I kissed him back. His soft lips molded to mine, and as I slid my hands up his shoulders and gathered them behind his neck, his composure crumbled. His metal arm met the wall and as I rose onto my toes to get a better angle to his mouth, his body pushed mine against the wall.

His flesh hand moved from my face to my hip as he pressed my body against his. Our mouths separated the tiniest bit to allow him to slide his tongue against my bottom lip, seeking entrance and with a smile on my lips, I welcomed him in. As the kiss deepened, every nerve ending in my body felt electric and my hands knotted into his hair to steady myself. He tasted of the berries and cream he’d just eaten and I greedily kissed him back, slipping my own tongue against his lips, needing more of him. His hand slid from my hip to the small of my back, lifting me off the wall gently and even closer to him as his beard scratched against my skin. I tugged on his hair and felt him moan against me, causing my entire lower body to flood with heat.

And just as that sound of pleasure seemed to set me off, it did the opposite for him. His mouth left mine and his open lips panted for air. He rolled his head back as he held me against him, and I heard a whispered, “wow” escape him. Moving his hand back to my hip, he placed more space between us but all I wanted to do was pull him against me again and attach my lips to his neck. He wouldn’t look at me for another moment and I pulled my hands away from him, resigning myself to the fact that the moment was over.

“Thank you again,” he murmured as he touched his lips gently and tilted his head down to look at me.

“You’re more than welcome,” I said, trying to not let my disappointment show through my smirk. I unlocked the door and he turned toward it, his face still appearing shaken. As I pulled the door towards us, he looked over his shoulder at me and gave me a small smile, and I knew then that although I wanted more from him, this was the most he could handle right now and that was a victory for him. I watched him walk out my door, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure I could see the smile on his lips.

As he got halfway up the flight of stairs I remembered that he hadn’t tasted like wine, and that was because I forgot about the bottle that was chilling in my fridge. And that bottle and the rest of the cheesecake was an excuse to invite him over again. I called out to him as he got to the next flight of stairs, “I forgot about the wine. You’ll have to come over some time and help me drink it.”

He chuckled from the floor above me and peeked over the railing. “I’d really like that,” he smiled and I couldn’t help but grin back this time. I closed my door right after he disappeared from the stairwell, and leaning against my door, I bit my lip and let out a little squeak.

This had definitely been a date.

Tags: @irishdancr24 @suz-123

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #seb stan #sebastian stan #bladehits2kchallenge #marvel #marvel fanfic #writing #bucky x reader #sorry if this sucks i didn't have a beta #also it's a lot of fluff and angst together

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