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beauregardlionett · 3 years

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i think i might understand the concept of home

AO3 Link

Yasha’s car had broken down on the side of the road in some tiny town she only meant to pass through. She hadn’t even read the welcome sign half-a-mile back, so gods knew where she was. Thankfully, there was a shoulder and a sidewalk, so she wasn’t stuck in the middle of traffic. She had the hood popped and stared helplessly down at the tangle of mechanics she did not understand.

Nothing was smoking, so she figured that must be a good thing.

“Need a hand?”

Yasha glanced up, catching sight of a woman standing just outside the coffee shop Yasha broke down in front of. She stood defined in the sunlight, composed of sharp lines and lean muscle, contained by planes of smooth, coffee-colored skin. She had on a simple grey sports bra under denim overalls littered with stains and distressed patches torn in random places on the legs. Her hair was in a low bun sat over what looked like an undercut all tucked messily beneath a backward cap.

Damn...she was hot.

The woman cocked an expectant eyebrow, reminding Yasha she had yet to answer.

“Oh, um...yes?”

Hot Lady smirked and stepped off the curb to stand at Yasha’s shoulder, leaning over the open hood and inspecting the mess. Yasha was busy inspecting the tanned slope of neck to bare shoulder, all of her quite a sight in the midday sunlight.

Gods, was that a tattoo on her back?

With abrupt yet easy precision, Hot Lady hauled herself up onto the lip of Yasha’s truck and shoved her hand between various pieces of metal. Startled, Yasha looked down at the engine, hoping she wouldn’t have to call emergency services for a hand lost in her car engine.

“The alternator might be shot,” Hot Lady said, squinting as she moved her hand around a little.

“What does that mean?” Yasha managed, only a little strangled.

“Means you need to get your car into a shop because you aren’t going to have much luck getting far without it.” Hot Lady removed her hand and gave a little hop back down to the pavement. She wiped her hand carelessly on her overalls and shrugged a little.

“It’s not a super challenging thing to fix, but it will take a minute. I can point you to a good garage if you need.”

“That would be very helpful. Thank you...um...”

“Beauregard,” the woman said, sticking out her hand with a grin. “Call me Beau.”

After hesitating a moment, Yasha grasped Beau’s hand and gave it a tentative shake, cheeks warm. Her face flushed even warmer when Beau raised her eyebrow again, clearly waiting for Yasha’s name.

“Yasha,” she blurted, horrid awkwardness muddying her chest. “I’m Yasha.”

“Nice to meet you, Yasha,” Beau said as she slowly took her hand back. Yasha already like the way her name sounded rolling off of Beau’s tongue - perhaps far too much for someone she just met.

“You might need to shack up somewhere for the night,” Beau said, pulling her phone from her pocket and texting someone. “Depending on how long the garage takes with your car. I haven’t seen you ‘round here before. You got a place to stay?”

“Oh...no,” Yasha managed. “I’m just passing through.”

“Well, I texted my buddy over at the garage to come get your car. He’ll be here soon. There’s only one hotel in this town, and to be honest, it sucks. My buddy Caleb moved most of his stuff out of his apartment, but he hasn’t turned the lease over yet. He got a big wig job two hours from here and they had him start early, despite the fact he still had a month on the lease. You can crash there if you want. I’m pretty sure he left his mattress.”

Yasha blinked, dazed and flabbergasted at the turn this conversation had taken.

“I...what?”

Beau looked up from her phone, fingers pausing in their rapid texting. She seemed to take in Yasha’s stunned expression and grimaced slightly.

“Sorry, that was a lot all at once.” Beau tucked her phone away and crossed her arms over her chest. Yasha recognized the defensive tactic attempting to look casual with ease. She performed that move often enough herself.

“This ‘helping’ thing isn’t my forte - more Jess’ thing. But uh...yeah. If you need a place to stay, you’ve got one. Promise there're no strings attached or anything like that.”

“But...you don’t know me.”

“True,” Beau shrugged. “But it’s not like there’s anything to steal from Caleb’s place. It’s basically an empty apartment he’s not getting anything out of. Might as well put the place to good use.”

“Okay,” Yasha said after a moment of strange quiet. What else was she supposed to say?

Beau blinked up at Yasha, then grinned, wide and delighted. “Cool.”

A few minutes later, a tow truck pulled up. Beau greeted the driver enthusiastically as Yasha watched on, wondering what she had gotten herself into.

“This is it,” Beau said, shoving open the door with her hip as she wrestled the key out of the lock.

Yasha followed Beau in, fingers curled tightly around the strap of her meager duffle bag. The apartment was near barren, as Beau had said. It had a small living area that faded seamlessly into a kitchenette. Down a short hallway appeared to be a bedroom and bathroom, both doors open. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The only sign someone had recently been occupying the space was the old mattress just visible through the bedroom door and the sagging sofa in the living room.

“Sorry there’s no food in the kitchen, but there’s a store about a block from here if you’re up for a walk. I’d hang around but I have to get to a class.”

Yasha twisted to look at Beau, something bubbling up in her chest that felt a lot like gratitude and a little like something indescribable. She watched as Beau fiddled with her key ring, only realizing what was happening when Beau pulled a key off and tossed it to Yasha. She just barely managed to catch it and not make a fool of herself.

“That’s the key to the door for ya. And,” Beau pulled a crumpled, folded piece of paper from her pocket, holding it out to Yasha. “My number, in case you have questions or you need anything. I’m a night owl and an early riser, so chances are I’ll answer whenever.”

“Thank you,” Yasha warbled after a long moment, clutching the key so hard the grooves of its identity imprinted into her palm. The notches stung like she would never forget their shape. “I mean it. This is...a lot.”

Beau rubbed the back of her neck, scuffing the toe of her sneaker against the worn floorboards. “It’s nothin’ really...”

“No,” Yasha insisted. “It’s a lot. Thank you.”

Beau’s gaze met Yasha’s intense stare, her bright blue eyes wide as they took in Yasha’s sincerity. A handful of seconds stretched into eternity before Beau ducked her head, rubbing at the back of her neck.

“Yeah...sure.”

Yasha was getting the impression she wasn’t the only one completely out of her depth in this situation.

“I’ll come around tomorrow with updates...bye.”

Yasha watched her duck out the door, disappearing down the hallway before she shut the door behind Beau and clicked the lock.

The garage had Yasha’s car fixed and ready to go after two days. Yasha was still in town three months later.

In all honesty, she’s not sure how it happened.

The night she planned to leave, Beau had swung by and insisted on seeing her off. They ended up at a diner, tucked into a booth, talking like they actually knew each other. Next thing Yasha realized, it was nearing midnight, and they were being asked to wrap up so the diner could close. The chef had called to them from the window, an older looking man with bright pink hair who gave Beau a knowing look and a wink.

Somehow, that unplanned extra night turned into months. Yasha had taken on the lease from the absent Caleb for his apartment. She found a job at the local florist, a job she quietly enjoyed. The gravity of her situation only set in after she bought sheets for the mattress.

She met Jess - real name Jester, or Genevieve, but Yasha couldn’t sure - a bubbly girl with deep blue hair and the sweetest attitude ever. Her fingertips were permanently paint stained, and she left hastily sketched dicks everywhere she went. Yasha also met the tow truck driver from the first day, a guy named Fjord. They were a weird mix of individuals, but somehow they got on just fine. They ate dinner together every Thursday night at the same bar owned by the guy who tended the bar - one of those small town things. His name was Mollymauk - Molly for short and sometimes they instead of he - with inordinately purple hair and makeup to match.

Yasha never really spent a lot of time in her apartment. She didn’t see the point, not when she had access to the florist shop, or the diner, or anywhere else with Jess, Fjord, Molly, or Beau. Especially not when Jess’ apartment she shared with Fjord was so much warmer, much more like a home.

It took three months before Beau stopped mid-sentence of a story and blinked at Yasha over their pancakes in the diner.

“This is probably a stupid question, but did you have somewhere to be?”

Yasha looked up, confused. “Right now? Uh...no? My shift at the shop doesn’t start for another three hours.”

“No, no, I meant like outside this town. You told me you were passing through, before.”

“Oh,” Yasha set down her fork and looked out the window. Her chest felt tight. That afternoon seemed like a lifetime ago - a whole other person ago. “Not really.”

“Do...uhm,” Yasha looked over at Beau to find her pushing her food around her plate awkwardly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

This was difficult for both of them. If Yasha had learned anything in her time here, it was that they both struggled to convey their emotions eloquently. But that Beau tried meant everything to Yasha. The least she could do was meet her halfway.

“I was running, and I didn’t know where or when I would stop. But I guess this place is where I’m meant to be.”

“Why were you running?” Beau stared at her, gaze intense in a way Yasha found endearing. She watched like nothing else in the world could distract her.

“I...I had a wife. And I lost her rather abruptly almost six months ago. I tried to stay for a while, to keep what we had built together, but I wasn’t strong enough. So I ran and hoped that I would find something worth staying for again before I fell off the world.”

Beau stared at Yasha openly over their half-eaten breakfast, eyes wide.

“You stayed here. Does that mean you found something here?”

Yasha looked at Beau, at her messy bun and her undercut that needed a fresh shave. She took in the puddle of syrup, slowly saturating Beau’s pancakes and the half gone pile of bacon. Beau’s cellphone sat face down on the table so her attention stayed on Yasha. She realized the baggy sweater Beau had on was one Yasha had misplaced almost a month ago. Yasha lost her breath at the butterflies that fluttered to life in her stomach.

“I think so,” Yasha breathed, tethered and unhinged all at once.

They didn’t talk about it, because of course they didn’t.

But two weeks after their pancake conversation, Beau invited Yasha out for a night on the town. There were only two bars with decent night life here, and Yasha had been to both of them exactly once during her time here. (The daytime trips to Molly’s bar didn’t count, of course. She had only been to their bar for the night life once.)

She met Beau in the middle, and they walked together the rest of the way.

Beau had gotten her undercut shaved tight again, but it was hidden with the way her hair spilled loose and long down her back. She had a cobalt lace crop top on - the one with the built-in bra. The way it showed off the definition of her muscles was doing things to Yasha. The black cigarette pants didn’t help either.

A few drinks and way too many EDM songs later - or maybe only a few? Yasha couldn’t tell them apart - Yasha remained upright from adrenaline alone. Somewhere between the drinks and the beat of the music, Beau pressed up against Yasha, wiry arms winding around Yasha’s neck as they danced. Yasha wasn’t much of a dancer in any regard, but she was just tipsy enough to not care.

Beau’s hips fit comfortably in the space between Yasha’s hands, and Yasha resolutely tried not to follow that train of thought. For no other reason than she didn’t want to ruin a good thing, and there was no way Beau felt the same.

Beau pushed onto her toes, shiny black boots creasing with the motion as her lace top rode up her enticing torso.

“I really want to kiss you,” Beau called over the heavy thrum of the base. Her voice nearly got lost in the din, but Yasha heard her. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t. The weight of her heart dropping into her stomach hit too heavy and real to ignore.

Fuck, she wanted to kiss Beau, too.

Yasha’s t-shirt stuck to random parts of her torso with sweat, a detail she was now hyper-aware of with how little space existed between her and Beau. The press of bodies around them was abruptly unnerving. So much so, Yasha wound an arm around Beau’s shoulders and steered them both free, ducking into the hallway that lead to the bathrooms as Yasha gasped for air.

Beau leaned her back against the wall for support, peering at Yasha with far too much clarity for someone who could barely stand upright.

“Are you okay, Yash?” Her voice was quieter now that they had moved out of the main bar, but the base still pounded like a heartbeat through the floorboards.

With more confidence than Yasha would ever possess in her life, she caged Beau in, a hand on either side of her head against the wall. As Beau stared up at her with unabashed awe, Yasha’s face warmed with flushed embarrassment.

“I want to kiss you so bad.”

“Then do it,” Beau said. It sounded like a dare, but she said it as if she were asking permission.

With a quick swoop into Beau’s space, Yasha pressed her lips to Beau’s with the barest amount of pressure. A feather-light, electric brush of a promise, a question, and an invitation. Yasha moved no closer.

Beau leaned in, and as far as kisses went, it was simple. Neither of them surged toward the other, or grappled for purchase to deepen the embrace. It was an easy press of lips, testing the waters despite the alluring tug of the tide.

Tipsy seconds later, Beau pulled back first with a soft gasp. Yasha’s eyes fluttered open, and she felt like a cheesy teenager when she realized they had closed without her knowledge.

“Do you want to do this?” Beau asked, voice soft and a little wrecked despite the chaste kiss.

Yasha, never one for many words, gave a quick nod and ducked back in. It wasn’t confidence, more like the beginning of a realization.

Beau held onto her, this time hands back around Yasha’s neck and fingers tangled deep in Yasha’s wild hair. Yasha took one hand from the wall to cup the back of Beau’s head, fingers sliding easily over the short hairs of Beau’s undercut.

It wasn’t a fireball kiss, but it tasted like the whiskey shots they had done half an hour ago. Beau’s lips were soft and a stark contrast to the way she kissed Yasha. It wasn’t falling stars and fire lit in her chest, nor was it a cosmic shift of puzzle pieces snapping into place. As before, it was a realization, a revelation of something that might have been there for a while.

Beau kissed Yasha back, and she thought about pancakes at the diner and memorizing the way Beau’s eyes scrunched when she laughed. Yasha rubbed her thumb over Beau’s jawline and Beau’s sharp grin burst to life behind her eyelids. A tug to Yasha’s hair reminded her of Beau offering to braid Yasha’s messy locks every time they all slept at Jess’ place. Beau licked into Yasha’s mouth and all at once, Yasha pictured her apartment. She saw the walls she had kept carefully bare, the sheets she had bought, but no other furniture. The echoing emptiness of a place abandoned for a better chance, and inhabited by the echo of who Yasha used to be.

And what did people say about echoes being louder in empty rooms?

Beau kissed Yasha, and Yasha realized she didn’t want to be an echo anymore.

Beau made her feel solid in a way that was undemanding. She merely held out her hand and asked for the pieces of Yasha that were real, the parts she was willing to share. She helped Yasha make them into a complete picture.

Yasha kissed Beau back with all the gentle strength she could muster through the weight of her epiphany and the whiskey.

This time, Yasha knew she found something worth staying for.

#cr #critical role #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha #writing #my writing

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btsinwonderland · 3 years

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A Drop of Poison - Ch. 7: Missing

A Loki fanfiction!

Previous Chapter --- Next Chapter

Full Chapter List

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It was your third time getting denied access to the infirmary. You stood there and created such a ruckus that Volstagg, the head of the infirmary, came out of the room to address you.

“What is all this bangin’ about?” he said, rubbing his thick orange beard and looking at you questionably.

The blonde-haired boy at the front desk scowled in your direction. “She was told last night that we are currently not allowing visitors, but she won’t listen.”

You threw him back a venomous gaze and took a deep breath, ready to present your case. “My friend Valkyrie was injured at yesterday’s game and I have to see her! She fell nearly thirty feet and nobody has told me a single thing about her condition. She could be dead for all I know and -“

“She’s over here. For the love of Merlin, please stop talkin’,” he said, leading you into the infirmary.

You smiled at the blonde boy and followed Volstagg through the door, into the infirmary. There were many more beds than you remembered seeing before. It seemed the room itself had elongated to make room for how many injured students there were. They bunked the beds to four levels and house-elves apparated between patients to provide care to those still healing.

There was one boy with a crooked looking arm that frightened you. He was sleeping on the third bunk of his bed group. Another girl had bandages around her eyes and was sitting up, scratching her pet rat between its ears. You gulped at the damage that was done, realizing that you had gotten off lucky.

Volstagg led you to a bed with the curtain drawn around it. It surprised you that Valkyrie got her own little section of the room.

“Thor brought her here in a mad fuss. She broke both her legs but should be fine in the mornin’,” Volstagg said. “You stay here as long as you need to, not a second more, understand?” He looked at you pointedly.

You smiled at him. “Thank you, sir.”

He grumbled away and left you alone. Valkyrie laid there with her eyes closed, and a bit of sweat on her brow. You walked over and drew up a chair beside her and took her hand. Using the back of your robe sleeve, you patted her forehead to get the sweat off.

“Hmmm, Professor?” she said.

You laughed. “Unfortunately, it’s just me,” you said.

Valkyrie smiled, eyes still closed. “I suppose you’re an alright consolation.”

“Are you okay?” you said, petting her hand.

Valkyrie opened her eyes and looked at you. The dark brown irises were rich, though the whites of her eyes had reddened from fatigue. “Oh stop it, I’m not on my deathbed, Freya. Volstagg gave me a mending brew, said I should be all better by the morning! Tastes like piss though.”

You laughed too loud, and it earned you a shush from a nearby house-elf applying ointment to a gash on a student’s arm. “Professor Odinson was quick to get you, though,” you said with a mischievous smile.

Valkyrie smiled. “I can still remember the feeling of being in his arms. Though the amount of pain I was in did block out most of it and made it slightly less romantic than I would have hoped…”

Footsteps approached, and you saw Professor Odinson stop at the foot of Valkyrie’s bed. “Freya! Volstagg couldn’t keep you out, eh?”

“Hell no!” Valkyrie said, shooting you a winning smile. Despite being bedridden, she was extraordinarily beautiful. You smiled back at her.

Professor Odinson reached over and adjusted the blankets by Valkyrie’s feet. She tried to sit up, but he gently stopped her by the shoulder and eased her down. “Take it easy, champ. We can’t have our captain injured again,” he said with a smirk.

Valkyrie looked at him with a devilish grin. “I do carry the team,” she said with a wink.

He laughed, and his gaze lingered over her lips for a fraction of a moment; you saw. You flushed when Professor Odinson looked at you and he cleared his throat. “Well, I won’t keep you two from catching up on your...girl talk or whatever it is you do.” He took out something from his pocket; it was a box of mini cauldron cakes which he shoved into Valkyrie’s hands. “Share these…” he said, leaving. “Heal quickly now Valkyrie, I won’t go easy on you when you return!”

“I wouldn't want you to, sir!” she said with a smile.

You grabbed a cauldron cake and took a bite, watching Valkyrie stare at Professor Odinson as he left. “Oh Professor, I’d love for you to go hard on me,” you said, in your best pleading voice.

Valkyrie snorted. “Shut it and don’t eat all my cakes.”

You both giggled and snacked on the cakes. Eventually, your thoughts drifted to a certain professor you were trying to avoid thinking about, but even amidst a beautiful flurry of chocolate and strawberry jam in your mouth, he still lingered.

After several more minutes of chatting, and another cauldron cake, you left Valkyrie to rest. The entire infirmary seemed to sigh with a sense of relief when you departed and you looked back at them with a scowl. You weren’t that loud...

It was still early in the morning, only ten o’clock, so you grabbed some breakfast before heading to your first Defence Against the Dark Arts class. You met Pom and Mo at the door, and the three of you took your seats.

A middle-aged man in a tweed jacket and a greying beard walked into the room, closing the door with a wave of his wand. “Welcome, students. I apologize for my tardiness this semester. I trust you have all been very well behaved and completed all your readings.”

He walked to the front of the class, through the aisle next to you, and you caught the musky scent of longrass and pipe smoke from him. “My six-month expedition in the Amazon was well worth it, though that is a story for another day. For now, we shall start on one of the spells in your readings. A shielding spell.”

You had not seen Professor Baldur since last year. He had been your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for half your time at Hogwarts. His demeanour was a cross between strict and friendly, wholly depending on what side of his temperament you landed on.

Professor Baldur opened up his briefcase and took out a brown paper bag. He reached inside and pulled out a red apple. “Now, Darwish, throw this at my head,” he said, passing the apple to Mo.

Mo looked at you and Pom before looking back at the professor. “A-are you sure, sir?” Some students whispered and giggled in the background.

Professor Baldur stepped back, giving Mo enough distance to hurl it and said, “yes, yes, come on now, throw! And someone be sure to catch it, I don’t want my lunch bruised!”

Mo wound up and flung the apple at Professor Baldur. Surely, the fruit would have landed squarely on his forehead had he not flicked his wand in a flash and yelled, “protego!”

The apple bounced off of a blueish glow around the professor and clipped another student in the shoulder, only to be caught by his neighbour. The class murmured excitedly at the opportunity to learn such a powerful spell.

Mo leaned over and whispered, “would have been useful to learn this one before those damned crows nearly pecked my eyes out.”

You nodded back in response.

“Questions?” Professor Baldur asked.

Pom raised her hand. “Does this spell work on more powerful things, like other spells? Can it cover more people?”

The professor took a bite of his apple and nodded with his eyes closed. “Yes, yes, it all depends on the user. Protego can be as powerful as a great wall, protecting an entire community! Or it can be as flimsy as a cardboard box.” He walked over to your desk and leaned over you, Pom, and Mo. “However, protego cannot deflect the unforgivable curses. For those you must block, dodge, or interrupt.”

Just then, someone rapped on the door at the back of the classroom and it opened to Professor Sif. “Everyone head to the Great Hall for an emergency announcement. Classes are dismissed for the day.”

You looked at Pom and Mo, who shrugged. You did not expect this to be a celebratory dismissal, and it caused an anxious lump to form in your chest. The three of you followed the rest of the students to the Great Hall and sat at your table. Pom stood at the Ravenclaw table and glanced around as if she were waiting for someone but eventually sat down.

Once the last of the students and teachers trickled in, the doors shut and the murmurs quieted. You looked at the head table and looked for Professor Laufeyson; he sat beside Professor Odinson with a grim expression on his face. Something looked off, more than usual; he seemed pale and tired.

Headmistress Frigga rose, and there was no trace of a smile on her face today. “It has been a strange semester thus far. From our dear Professor Hubert Rattowl’s passing and the unfortunate incident of yesterday’s Quidditch game. I am sorry to pull you from class today. But it is with a heavy heart I must announce that one of your classmates has gone missing.” There was a rush of whispers across the hall which Professor Sif shushed loudly, as the Headmistress continued. “The teachers and I are up in arms to look for the missing student. And as such, we have deemed it necessary to lock down Hogwarts for the month of October and possibly the rest of the semester. This means no going outside of castle grounds, no trips to Hogsmeade, and there is a new curfew of seven o’clock, post meridiem.”

There were several groans at this announcement. The Headmistress looked down at the students and clasped the edges of the podium. “Any students caught breaking these rules will be expelled and sent home immediately.”

“It’s the Dark One!” someone shouted. Then whispers erupted from every table, talking about his return and some even threw Professor Laufeyson’s name into the fire.

“Silence!” Headmistress Frigga yelled. “I will not tolerate gossip in my school!” She gave a gentler look after silencing the room with her commanding tone. “I know you are scared, as am I. However, we will not get through this if we cannot work together. Now is a time for Hogwarts to be unified and diligent. Take care of your fellow classmates and teachers. We must be both kind and cautious.”

Then, some of the other teachers took turns providing a list of their new schedules, particularly for the students engaged in night classes or other extra-curricular activities. You looked down at the table, thinking about what was going on. First the attack and now a student had actually gone missing. You looked back at Professor Laufeyson, but he was no longer at the table or in the Great Hall.

Professor Hogun walked past you towards the Ravenclaw table. He paused over Pom and put a hand on her shoulder. He then escorted her out of the Great Hall.

“What’s that about?” Mo said.

“I don’t know,” you replied, though the lump in your chest only tightened.

“I can’t believe we can’t go to Hogsmeade! I was looking forward to our annual butterbeer bash,” he said, crossing his arms.

You gave him a look, to which he only smiled and said, “the best way for coping with this distress is to have a nice butterbeer don’t you think?”

“Mo, I don’t think anything is going to calm my distress,” you said with a laugh. The dread in your stomach remained.

As you exited the Great Hall, you noticed Pom at the end of the corridor, with a few students around her. Her face was completely red, and she was sobbing. One of her friends hugged her and Pom buried her face in their arms and cried. You walked over to the crowd and tapped someone on the shoulder.

“What’s wrong? Is Pom alright?” You said.

The student frowned and shook his head. “The missing student...is Pom’s brother, Ken.”

Before you could even process the news, you saw Professor Laufeyson come down the hall. When the student you spoke to caught sight of him, he yelled aloud and lunged at the professor. A girl with braids held the boy back. “It’s your fault! It’s your fault he’s missing!” He nearly spat his words at Professor Laufeyson.

Professor Laufeyson looked grim, but maintained an impartial expression. “I don’t know what you mean. I am sorry to hear about our missing student. I hope they find him.”

“You’re the Dark One’s son! You’re causing all this to happen!” The boy said.

The other students gasped, and for a moment you saw rage on Professor Laufeyson’s face. Then Professor Hogun broke up the crowd and took the insolent student by the arm. “You do not speak to your Professor in that tone, Warren! Minus twenty points for Ravenclaw and detention!” He guided the boy down the hall before throwing Professor Laufeyson a disapproving glance, as if he agreed with the student anyway.

As the crowd dispersed, Professor Laufeyson left, and you hesitated for a moment before you followed him. You followed him down the corridor, past the library, until the hordes of panicked students thinned out to the point you were alone. “Wait! Sir!”

He stopped, arms crossed. “What?” he said, turning to face you. His face was a mask.

“Are you alright?”

He actually chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he said, shrugging. You walked up closer to him. He gave you an incredulous look, but you could sense something beyond it. Irritation. “It’s nothing I have not heard before. And I must grant that boy a touch of respect since he was brave enough to tell me what everyone else was thinking.”

You looked at him then, afraid to say what you wanted to say.

“And you wonder the same thing,” he said. A glimmer of disappointment in his eyes. “Just like the rest of them.”

That was not fair. “I’ve been trying to help you!”

He laughed again. “What makes you think I need your help?” He turned away to leave and you could not bear the frustration.

Your anger bubbled to the surface. “I saw you die!”

For a moment, his eyes widened, but he maintained his composure. “What?”

You breathed in and exhaled slowly. “I have a...gift, or at least that’s what Heimdall says. I have visions.”

He watched you curiously as you continued.

“I have these dreams, and for a long time, all I dreamed of was that blue cube - the Tesseract you called it - in the lake. It’s in some sort of cavern. I don’t know where. But then, before you arrived in school, I saw you, in my vision. In the cavern, with these strange creatures surrounding you.”

Professor Laufeyson looked at you with a sort of satisfaction, despite hearing of his death. “So that’s how you knew about the Tesseract,” he said, cocking his head to the side.

Your anger flared up again. “Hold on, did you act upset so I would feel bad for you and tell you everything?”

He raised his hands up. “Don’t take it so badly, at least I didn’t use any magic this time!”

You grit your teeth. This man was insufferable. “You just lie, all the time then?”

He walked towards you and put a finger under your chin as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “People lie all the time, love, I just own it.”

You ignored the reaction your body had to his touch and stepped back. “Why do you want that cube? Does it have anything to do with the missing student?”

“You can thank my father for the missing student. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are more disappearances. Times are changing! As for what I want, you should already know that, seer. I can’t do your job for you.” He turned and walked away.

You were so frustrated you could shake him. “But you’ll die if you search for the Tesseract!”

He shrugged. “What difference does that make? Nobody cares.”

“I don’t want you to die.”

He stopped walking for a moment and turned his head slightly. “Then you’d be the first.” He said and left you standing there, alone in the corridor.

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writers-buck · 3 years

Text

A Family Life

a/n; I hope you enjoy!

word count: 4.1k

relationship: Bucky Barnes x female reader, dad! Bucky x OC child

warnings: fluff, minor angst, mentions of pregnancy.

Bucky entered the home quietly, after so many years of being an assassin for Hydra and now an Avenger operating quietly came naturally these days. Without even looking he shut the door barely hearing the soft "click" of the doorknob latching into place. He listened closely, trying to determine what room you were in and a grin appeared on his face when he heard you humming. He dropped his duffel bag from when he had to stay at the compound for a mission by the door and made his way through the house. The light was on in the bedroom and Bucky walked in to find you rocking your daughter against your chest.

He stood in the frame watching you for a minute. There was no particular name to what you were humming but it was a familiar melody the two of you would hum back in Bucharest after a hard day to calm the other down. That was before Steve found you and Bucky and life as you knew it began to fall apart.

Things were better now, you had house in the middle of nowhere. Steve had it set up for you, mentioning something about "the Barton's" lifestyle. Records of your connection to Bucky or your daughter were not in any SHIELD databases. Steve was the only one who knew of your existence and where you resided. That's exactly how you wanted it. Being any closer to the Avenging life than you already were was not for you. You preferred the quiet, no where near the spotlight, and no giant target on your back.

Your daughter was about a year and a half old. She was a tiny thing when she was born. Part of Bucky didn't know how something so small and innocent had come from him. Regardless little Hanna was a carbon copy of her father. With a dark head of hair that was usually pulled into small ponytail that stuck straight up with a bow, and piercing blue eyes she was the light of his life, other than you of course. Bucky enjoyed watching the two of you have alone time, bonding between mother and daughter. The moment was over when Hanna picked up her head from your shoulder and looked towards the doorway, making some kind of incoherent noise that sounded like "Da" and pointing.

You turned around seeing your husband, looking a bit worse for wear standing in the doorway watching the two of you rock back and forth. Relief fell upon your features as you quickly crossed the room to hug him tightly. He was still in his uniform, suggesting that he came straight from the mission to see you. He typically did that, not wanting to waste anytime between finally being clear of the danger and seeing you at home safe with your daughter.

"Bucky." You spoke holding him at arms length, checking him over for any injuries the team might have missed.

"Y/n." He whispered as Hanna reached out for her father. He gently took her from your arms kissing her forehead softly "hello babydoll."

Hanna giggled and tangled her fingers into Bucky's hair pulling gently. She was excited to see her father. Missions were rough on all of you, Hanna didn't necessarily know why her father left every once and a while for a couple days. You were constantly worried about Bucky and Bucky was just trying to make it back home to you where he belongs. She placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek and Bucky smiled. He missed this, even if he wasn't gone for long he waited being away from the two of you.

"I'll get her in bed, you go wash up." You spoke framing his face with your hand. "Then we'll talk."

He took his metal hand and placed it over yours, giving your palm a soft kiss, and embracing your touch. Afterwards he gave Hanna one last kiss on the forehead and handed her back to you. "Goodnight babydoll."

You watched as his shoulders slumped and he walked to the bathroom that connected to the master bedroom. That was something you had decided early on in her life. No talking about work in front of her. She didn't need to listen to the things her father went through. You thought back to when Steve had found your shared apartment in Bucharest when she was just a couple months old. He had to fight his way out, leaving the two of you behind. You told him to, knowing the danger he was in. To anyone else you and Hanna were civilians, but one look at Bucky's conflicted face and Steve knew that his best pal in the world had found his own family. That moment had terrified you, especially when you heard Bucky had been arrested. You were sure you had been left alone with a 3 month old daughter until Steve found you afterwards, saying Bucky had a breakdown and needed you.

You walked Hanna into her bedroom and laid her inside her crib, letting her hold onto your fingers for a minute as you smoothed her hair out of her face, and gave her baby blanket to her. Hanna took it and giggled a little bit, something she was doing more often lately. You watched her for a moment more before turning on her nightlight and baby monitor and exiting the room, turning off the lights. The shower had just turned off and you heard Bucky step out of the shower. You approached then bathroom door, hesitating for a moment before walking in. He had a white towel draped around his waist and was unsuccessfully towel drying his hair. You laughed taking the towel from him and drying his hair for him. He hung his head down, giving you easy access to his hair. It was now that you got a good look at his body and assessed his injuries. You lightly touched his chest where a big purple bruise was extremely visible.

"Buck-" You spoke looking deeply into his bright blue eyes.

"You should see the other guy." He spoke trying to seem light hearted and you scoffed grabbing his face again.

"Are you okay?" You asked gently stroking his cheek.

"I am now that I'm home." he told you truthfully. "I took a couple hits doll, but I'm here, I'm safe, and I have both of my girls."

You blushed lightly and tried to hide your smile unsuccessfully. He tilted your head up to his and pressed a gentle kiss onto your lips. When the kiss broke, you kept your forehead on his almost like letting him know you weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

"Hanna is getting really close to walking." You told him and he smiled widely. "I guess I was worried about nothing."

"That's my girl, she's strong." He said his smile never leaving his face. "I'm gonna get changed, how about we watch a movie before bed?"

"I'll set something up." You told him and exited the bathroom placing the towel you had used on his hair into the laundry basket. You had done a hell of a job of getting him caught up on pop culture over the years of your relationship. You picked up the remote to the TV in your bedroom and turned it on, flipping through the channels and looking for something to watch. Before you even had the chance, Hanna's cries from the baby monitor rang through the room and you set down the remote rushing to see what the fuss was about. Hanna typically was a quiet baby, especially when it was time for her to go to bed so this was strange.

Walking into her room you could see she had pulled herself up into a standing position on her crib and was crying, tears streaming down her face.

"What's wrong Han?" You spoke softly, picking the girl up.

"Dada" She cried and you rocked her gently.

"Is she okay?" Bucky asked alarmed. No matter what, hearing her cry always seemed to freak him out.

"I think she just wants her daddy." You mumble giving her a sad look as she reaches out to Bucky who takes her gently. A loud noise sounds from outside and Hanna begins to cry harder. "What was that?"

"No idea." Bucky states already on high alert, he scans the area of Hanna's room seeing bright light coming from the outside of your home.

"What the hell?" You ask beginning to walk towards a window only for him to grab your hand pulling you back.

"Stay away from the windows." You could see the gears in his brain working. At the moment he was in Avenger mode, processing skills going a million miles a minute trying to figure out what was going on. He handed you your daughter and guided you back to the master bedroom, that was when a knock at the door sounded. You lived in the middle of no where, nobody should be knocking at your door especially in the middle of the night. He grabbed the handgun you knew he kept in his nightstand and went to investigate. "Stay here."

"Be careful." You told him grabbing his hand in letting his fingers slip through your own. He looked back at you and nodded, a strand of hair framing his face. You placed Hanna's head down on your shoulder rocking her back and forth to calm her down. Time seemed to pass eternally slow the minute he left. You sat in a rocking chair that was placed in the corner of your room, thoughts racing and heart beating a million miles a minute. A couple minutes seemed to pass until you heard Bucky's voice let out an exasperated sigh.

"Dammit Steve." He spoke and you loosened up a bit. "The hell are you guys doing here man?"

You hear multiple footsteps enter your home and slowly walk out of the master bedroom, Hanna attached to your hip. Her cries have turned silent but tears are still rolling down her face gently as she sucks on her fingers. Bucky turns around as he hears the quiet sniffling coming from Hanna and your eyes widen when you see the entirety of the Avengers standing awkwardly in your living room.

"We didn't have anywhere else to go." Steve told him. "Sorry for intruding Y/N. I know it's short notice."

"More like no notice." Bucky grumbled walking to your side and taking Hanna who had reached a small hand out to her dad. The daddy's girl seemed to not be getting as much attention from Bucky as she wanted.

"It's no problem," You spoke fiddling with your now free hands. "You know you're always welcome."

"Hold on, Barnes has a girlfriend? and a kid? And you knew?" The man you presume to be Tony Stark asks Steve.

"Wife actually." You told him. "Why exactly are you here though?"

"The compounds been compromised Y/n." Steve told him. "You know I'd never come here without it being an emergency. We would've called but we didn't want to risk having your phone being tracked. The quinjet has stealth mode, that's the only reason we weren't followed."

You took this time to take in their appearance. They truly looked worse for wear. Every word of what Steve said seemed to be true. Natasha had an arm thrown around Steve's shoulder and looked like she was about to pass out at any minute. Clint looked like he saw something out of his worst fears. Thor and Tony both had scratches all over them, some deeper than other and Steve was covered in rubble, his usually perfect hair sticking out in odd directions.

"That would explain why Hanna woke up." You muttered looking at your daughter who had fallen asleep on your husband's shoulder. "We have a couple rooms, you'll have to double up, and someone get's the couch, and there's a recliner in Hanna's room. She can sleep with in ours."

"Thank you lady Barnes." The tall blond Asgardian said graciously.

"Of course. We can talk more in the morning." You told them, grabbing ahold of Bucky's metal hand. "You guys look like you need to get cleaned up and some rest."

With that you exited the room, and entered your own, setting up a spare crib you had for Hanna. It was from when she was really young and required a lot more maintenance during the night than she did now. Still, it would get the job done for however long the Avengers were staying in your home. The thought was crazy, the avengers were residing in your home for who knows how long.

You heard the door shut behind you and turned to see Bucky with a sleeping Hanna. The duo looked adorable together and regardless of how stressed your husband was, him having Hanna in his arms always made him relax. For the longest time he thought he would accidentally hurt her with his metal arm, you of course knew he never would and helped him remove that fear from his mind.

"She's out like a light." He spoke beginning to place her in her crib only for her to begin to stir again and have him pause his actions.

"She missed you." You told him placing your chin on the shoulder that Hanna wasn't asleep on and looking up at him. "We both did."

"I know." He spoke, feeling guilty for being gone for so long. Part of him wanted to quit the hero life and live his life in your home quietly, watching Hanna grow up and the future children you planned on having. The other part of him felt like Avenging was the only way for him to make up for the horrors that he committed as the Winter Soldier. "I'm sorry Steve brought them here."

"Don't apologize Buck." You told him wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him softly. "It was only a matter of time. Besides, Steve looked terrified I'm sure he has good reason."

"I suppose you're right." He spoke suppressing a yawn trying to escape. "Why don't we get in bed. It's been a long week and I've missed you both."

You couldn't argue with that and settled down in bed with Bucky doing the same. He had Hanna on his chest and you heard her whimper the slightest bit to being jostled around but she quieted down once Bucky began rubbing her back.

"You're an amazing father, you know?" You whispered watching how gentle he was with your daughter. "She adores you more than anyone."

"You two are my world." He tells you and you work your way into his side, cuddling close and stealing all of his warmth. "You got me out of a dark place, I don't know what I would do without you."

"I love you more than life James." You tell him pressing a kiss on his chest. "You gave me our daughter, and we might have 6 avengers sleeping under our roof right now but I wouldn't change our lives for the world."

"Neither would I." He laughs quietly as to not wake up Hanna. "Even if my best pal is a punk."

"He sure is." You laughed with him. "Now get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow, you get to deal with the Avengers and I get to help miss Hanna walk."

"I think you might've gotten the short end of the stick." Bucky says sarcastically and you nudge him gently.

"Avenging is your thing. Being her mom is mine."

"Yeah I know doll, and you're damn good at it."

___

The next morning you awake before Bucky, Hanna is fast asleep on his bare chest and you can't help but snap a photo of the two of them laying so peacefully together. You smile to yourself and reluctantly pull yourself out of bed, doing your absolute best not to wake the father daughter duo. Sneaking out into the kitchen you pull out pancake mix figuring that would be something easy to make considering the amount of people currently in your household. Around half an hour later you look back to see Bucky coming out with a bright eyed Hanna on his hip.

"Well good morning princess!" You cooed, tickling her sides making her giggle softly.

"I sure hope you weren't talking to Barnes." Tony Stark said appearing from the bedroom, looking much cleaner than he had yesterday.

"Very funny." Bucky grumbled and you kissed his cheek.

"Cheer up Buck." You scolded and Hanna copied your actions putting a slobbery kiss on her fathers chin.

"Why thank you sweet girl." He told her, eyes wide with amazement and his mood having done a complete 180. Hanna always had that affect on him, no matter what was going on in that mind of his, Hanna could make it better. You took her from his arms and strapped her into her highchair that sat right beside the dining room table.

"Breakfast is on the counter if you'd like some, help yourself." You told the Avengers that were staggering into your kitchen. Pulling a chair to sit in front of Hanna you began to cut up some pancakes into tiny pieces, you'd feed yourself with whatever Hanna didn't eat. You placed some on her plate and watched with a small smile as she held a piece out for you.

"Mama bite." She said choppily, and you took the food from her tiny fist with your mouth, thanking yourself for not giving her syrup. Steve walked into the room and Hanna's eyes lit up at her (second) favorite avenger. "Unca!"

You looked at Bucky and Steve who both had equally shocked expressions. Steve looked extremely exhausted from the past couple days and whatever he was dealing with but Hanna's newfound word seemed to put a smile on his face. "Your vocabulary is getting so big little miss!"

"She's got about a whole 20 words now." You spoke laughing as she shoveled more pancakes into her mouth.

"Sorry to interrupt the moment but we should talk about last night." Natasha said leaning against the wall. "How was the compound compromised?"

"I'm assuming Hydra isn't as gone as we thought." Steve began to speak.

"Steven Grant, you know the rules no business in front of her." You interrupted giving him a glare, he sheepishly looked down and apologized with Bucky giving him an amused smirk. Hanna was done with her breakfast, so you picked her up and took her to the bathroom. "Leave your dishes in the sink, I'll get them later."

"I like her." Natasha said nodding towards Bucky.

Bucky walked into Hanna's room about an hour later where you were reading to her and she was pointing at the pretty colors. There was a grim expression on his face and he tried to hide for a moment but failed miserably. You put Hanna on the ground, handing her a toy to distract herself with and stood up to grab Bucky's hands.

"You have to go don't you." You spoke, both you and Bucky's eyes began to tear up. He only nodded and pulled you into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry doll." He whispered placing his forehead on yours. You swallowed your throat, Bucky leaving was never easy but the fact that the Avengers got their asses kicked and had to come to your home as a safety net? That made it harder. You didn't know if he would come back.

"You come home to us okay?" You told him authoritatively, holding back tears. "You come home and tuck your daughter in for bedtime, to kiss me goodnight, and to tell us you love us okay?"

"I will doll." He told you leaving was never easy, but the fact that HYDRA was involved this time? The main reason Bucky was plagued with nightmares and considered himself the villain of his own story? That scared the hell out of you. You couldn't bare them taking him away from you, from your daughter. You kissed him deeply, his hands grabbing onto your waist like a lifeline and when he let go he picked up Hanna and held her close. "Hey babydoll"

His words were gentle, and you heard him promise her he would come home, and if he didn't that he'd always be in her heart. That she was his greatest accomplishment. Of course Hanna didn't understand a word he was saying but it made Bucky feel so much better about himself that he had to before every mission. With that he grabbed you by the waist again, enveloping the two of you in a tight hug. "I'll come back to my girls, and I'll do my best to keep you updated."

"I know you will." You told him. "I love you James."

"I love you most." He told you. You heard a knock on the door frame and let go of Bucky's embrace to see Steve in full uniform.

"Hey, we've got to head out." He said sadly interrupting the moment. "I'm sorry."

"Just make sure he comes home okay?" You told Steve.

"Anything for my pal's best girls." Steve promised.

"I'll see you later doll." Bucky said giving your hand one last squeeze before walking out of the door. You waited until the house was eerily quiet to let out a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding.

____

It had been nearly a week since you had last heard from Bucky, a month since you had last seen him. You were worried, you always were when he went on missions. This one seemed to take longer than usual and it didn't help ease you're conscious at all. Since then you tried to keep yourself occupied. The house had never been cleaner, Hanna was pulling herself up and trying to walk along things such as the coffee table and even your bed frame once. As sad as it was, she wasn't let out of your sight much and you had her sleep with you most nights. Just to have some kind of company.

You were in the middle of doing dishes while Hanna sat in her highchair eating banana's. That's when you heard her squeal with excitement. Curious, you turned around dropping the plastic cup in your hand when you saw Bucky standing there. He had stitches in his forehead and a black eye and looked worse for wear but he has home.

"Buck." You whispered forgetting about the dishes completely and immediately running towards him. He caught you in his arms with an 'mph' and held you closer than ever before. Tears were streaming down your face as you hugged him. "It's been so long."

"Hi doll." He said refusing to let you go. "I missed you both so much."

"Daddy hug!" Hanna yelled at Bucky and he chuckled.

"I can't forget my sweet girl now can I?" He said picking her up gently and pulling her into a tight hug. She squeezed him as tight as her little arms could handle and you could hear her blow a raspberry into his neck. You laughed quietly wiping away your tears as he pulled you into his embrace once more.

"What happened to you out there?" You asked that night after putting Hanna to sleep in her crib.

"Hydra's done for." He told you playing with your fingers. "And I'm done working in the field."

"What?" You asked sitting up on your elbow and looking directly into his eyes. "No more missions?"

"No more missions doll." He told you. "I'll maybe work behind the scenes but it's time I leave Avenging behind. I want to be here with you, and Hanna and grow our family."

"I'm glad you say that" You spoke biting your lip. "because two kids would be a handful with you in the field."

"What?" He said sitting straight up.

"Another baby Barnes, coming to a cradle near you." You spoke. "Surprise."

"Really?" He asked, his eyes were wide like saucers and he sounded like a little kid with how excited he was.

"Really." You told him.

"God, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me Y/n, I swear it." He whispered kissing you softly and placing his hand on your stomach gently.

"I love you more than life Buck. I don't know what I'd do if I hadn't found you."

#bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel #y/n #x readeer #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky x reader

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h1myname1sk0rg · 3 years

Text

Cheaters Never Prosper

Part 1 - Summer Beginnings

Pairing: Brother’s Best Friend!Bucky x OC

Summary: Bucky brings his new college girlfriend to the lake house. Old feelings arise and he has to fight to win the game he and Ace have going, but as they say, cheaters never prosper.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.1k

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“That’s right folks, it’s gonna be a hot one out there today! Kickin’ off the summer 37 degrees and climbing, so stay cool and safe out there!”

Music from the radio buzzed through the kitchen and into the living room, crackling occasionally. The house was dim, all the curtains drawn shut to block out as much heat as possible in the large house and Acelynn Rogers was unimpressed. Trudging her way down the tall set of stairs she wandered into the kitchen where her mom was stood, digging through the fridge. “Don’t lie to me, lady. I know you’re just trying to cool off.”

Chuckling, her mom pulled the large watermelon from the back of the fridge. “Oh hush, you’re gonna be late for school.” She reached for the knife on the counter, pointing it at her daughter as she spoke.

Grumbling something about how the school was too warm and that they should just “cancel it anyway,” because, “who needs exams”, she stuffed the laces into her dusty sneakers and walked out of the house.

The air was stuffy and damp, Acelynn seemed to sweat within seconds of stepping onto the front porch. The metal railing was too hot to touch and her thighs rubbed together uncomfortably as she scrambled down the stairs. Red braids could be seen through the bushes and right on time, the face of her best friend appeared at the front gate to her (oversized) family home. “Wanda!” she cheered, drawing out her name in excitement.

“Acelynn!” Her friend cheered back in the same tone; something that had become a ritual for the past five years they had known each other. That was the only time they used each other’s full names, often too lazy and shortening it to one syllable instead.

The walk to school was short, but not sweet. It was muggy and far too uncomfortable for any amount of physical activity. “I can’t wait to go to the summer home.” Ace sighed, absolutely delighted to go visit the mansion they visited every summer just outside a small town a few states over.

Wanda nodded in agreement, brushing her braids off her shoulders. “Me too, I can’t believe my parents are actually letting me go, and bonus, we can drive. We are going to be in for a wild summer.”

That they were, a wild summer was an understatement though, especially considering her parents wouldn’t be joining them until two weeks later and were even going to let her drive the convertible down to the house after this weekend’s graduation ceremony. Stepping foot onto the grounds of their high school just as the bell rang, they waved goodbye, “you’re coming over tonight, right?” She called to Wanda, who in turn gave a thumbs up as she spun on her heel and jogged through the front doors. Acelynn turned the other direction and sprinted for her math exam, sliding into her seat just at the last second.

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Watching the clock tick by second by second made her want to slam her head through the desk in front of her. She had done three exams today and finished her last one with thirty minutes to spare. It was all she could do to keep from asking to go to the bathroom and just never coming back. Just as she felt herself zone out again, the bell rang. Shooting up from her seat, she grabbed her belongings: a nearly empty bag and the pen she used to draw on her leg after finishing her exam. Sprinting from the classroom, she stopped in the hallway to plan her route and, expertly, she dodged excited seniors and the leftover freshman left and right before coming to a stop in front of the front doors.

Breathing deep, she pushed them open to step outside, but not before Peter Parker came sprinting out of nowhere and tackled her to the ground. “We’re free!” He cheered, causing laughter to erupt from Ace.

Grinning, she tried shoving him off. “That we are!” Grabbing her hand, Peter helped her to her feet and she caught sight of Ned and MJ catching up behind them. Aside from Wanda, Peter was her best friend. They shared the same birthday and were born in the same hospital. Her parents were best friends with his aunt and uncle and they practically grew up as siblings. “The invitation is still open to join Wanda and I at the summer home next week, we leave Sunday morning after grad.”

The three friends all looked to each other and sighed, “we all got jobs last week, we’re stuck here, sorry Ace.” Peter nodded at Ned’s statement and she sighed even though she understood because her and Wanda were told to get jobs for the summer in that little town. “We’ll still make it for our birthday weekend though.” At that, Ace’s eyes lit up and she grinned mischievously.

“Alright deal. Steve said he would buy us drinks for that weekend and my parents said that they would leave early.”

The friends said their goodbyes and headed home, Wanda and Ace turning the other direction to head to their neighborhood. “So this weekend, I’ll go pack at home after grad and then come by for dinner, deal?”

Ace nodded, “that works, I still need to find out when Steve and his friends are coming down.”

“Do you think Barnes will be there?” Wanda asked, even at the mention of the last name her cheeks flushed. They grew up really close for years, with him being Steve’s best friend. Their parents called him Acelynn’s long lost brother, sometimes she pretended to hate the guy, teasing him and him teasing her back. Wanda knew she was head over heels in love with him. That being said, Ace did hate him. Hated his perfect teeth and his perfect hair and the perfect way he dressed. Hoping it would go away when Bucky left for university, she paid him no attention last summer. It upset both Steve and Bucky that they didn’t hang out much, but she covered it by working at the bakery all summer and spending as little time as possible at the summer home.

Shrugging, she tightened the straps of her backpack and set off down the cement stairs of her high school. “Don’t know, don’t care to be honest.” A lie. A flat out, dirty lie. “Even if he was, why would it matter. He’s a pompous college boy anyway, I don’t need that.”

Their bags sat uncomfortably on their shoulders and the sun beat down on their necks, Wanda stayed silent and watched Ace fight with herself back and forth about her conflicting feelings about the oldest Barnes. They passed his family home at the end of the street and like always, Ace searched for his car. Her heart pounded in her chest, but the sleek black car stayed missing in action. Swallowing dryly, she glanced to Wanda who used this silence to speak up. “Let’s go swimming. Get our minds off graduation.” The proposition brought up her newly dampened spirits and she nodded, the two jogging their separate ways to grab their swimsuits.

Acelynn entered the house, the temperature change was welcome, but insignificant in it’s efforts to cool her down. She changed and pulled her shorts from earlier on and wiping her sweaty palms on her thighs, smeared the black pen ink.

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The bike ride to the river was warm, too warm. Rubber bike handles came off on their hands and they were glad to see the dirt road that held access to the lake. Whipping down the dusty path, they hollered and cheered. The ride made her feel free as the breeze cooled her hot and sweaty skin. Trees passed by, light reflecting off the girl’s faces and they smiled, coming to a screeching halt at the bottom. Just as the dust cleared, they both sprinted for the dock. Wanda grabbed Ace’s waist and they both wrestled each other into the freezing cold water, their backs hitting it with a satisfying smack.

Laughing, they pulled themselves from under the water and sighed in relief as the coolness settled onto their skin. The sky was blue, not a cloud in the sky as Ace lay on her back, floating on the water and letting her blonde hair soak. Water flooded her ears and she closed her eyes enjoying the peace and quiet.

Bucky laughed as Ace splashed him, Steve jogging up the hill to get the ball that Bucky ‘accidentally’ tossed up there. Hands running over the water, Ace smiled, once again enjoying the peace of being with her brother and his friend. The peace was ruined when Bucky tackled her under the water, she gasped at how cold the water was. Having been too chicken, she hadn’t quite gotten in yet. She got used to it quickly when she realized that Bucky was just kind of... staring at her. Grabbing his face, she pulled him in, kissing him with so much passion they both had to break for air much sooner than either of them liked. Bucky, grabbed her again, pulling her in and holding her tight to his chest as they shared that moment. She took a deep breath in, shocked beyond words. Looking up at him, she closed her eyes for a moment and-

Cold water hit her face and she gasped. Wanda’s laughing broke through the leftover memory fog and she glared at her before laughing herself. “Come on, we gotta go. Your mom is gonna kill you if you’re not home for dinner on time.”

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Graduation was warmer than the sun. The gym was hot and there were too many bodies for the outdated air conditioning to manage. The small graduating class of 50 sat in chairs on the floor and parents sat up in the bleachers. Ace was bummed out, her brother hadn’t shown up and he promised to be there. The valedictorians talked about nothing and in turn, her and MJ looked at each other from across the room, shooting each other with finger guns to ‘kill’ each other. Wanda was sat in front of her and the two girls just kept banging their heads together while their principal droned on and on about how “adulthood is beautiful and everyone will do wonderfully in college.” The speech had been the exact same as at Steve’s graduation a year prior and when it finally came time to walk the stage, everyone trudged, the heat making them feel sludgy.

Wanda walked as gracefully as ever, her brother Pietro following with a light jog and a jump in the air. Rolling her eyes at the athlete, Acelynn waited for her turn, dripping in a pool of sweat in her crumby fold up chair that felt like it would collapse at any second.

“Acelynn Rogers.” Her principal said with a smile, they had gotten to know each other quite well... on many occasions. Her family cheered, and she grinned. Her grin only grew when she saw her big brother standing beside her mom in the bleachers yelling the loudest out of them all. After the ceremony concluded and students were recognized and given awards (Ace included for her impeccable attendance which should have been a joke) she sprinted out to the parking lot in her sneakers. Her mom got her in a dress, but she had tossed the heels aside as soon as the ceremony ended.

“Stevie!” She shouted and he turned, grinning as she ran at him. She jumped into his arms and he hugged her close.

“Acely!” He cheered, spinning her around and absolutely crushing her ribs. He set her down and kissed the top of her head, “you’re graduated!”

“I’m graduated! Are you staying for dinner?” She so desperately wanted him to say yes, but he shook his head sadly.

“Sorry, kid, I gotta go to the lake house tonight. Buck is meeting me there,” Wanda whipped her head around from where she stood with her family, crushed under her brothers arm, “and I have to let him in.”

“Oh, yeah okay. That’s fair. We’ll celebrate tomorrow though?” At that Steve nodded, sending a wink her way and she smirked in response before her mom squished them together for a picture.

>———————————<✪>———————————<

The Rogers’ (minus Steve) and the Maximoff’s had dinner together that night. It wasn’t often that everyone got together, but they did today. Her mom cut up vegetables in the kitchen, talking about nonsense work stuff with Wanda’s mom and their dads cooked burgers on the barbecue. It was short and sweet, the humidity becoming too much for everyone so they retired early. Wanda’s parents hugged their daughter goodbye like they would never see her again even though she would see them in a few weeks when she drove back up for their own trip.

The girls spent the evening packing for the summer, passing out on Acelynn’s bedroom floor that night. They woke up early, the sound from the neighbour’s lawn mower shocking them as though cold water had been dumped on their heads. “I guess that means it’s time to go.” Wanda crawled up from her spot on the fluffy rug and stretched. Plucking a record off the wall, Ace nodded, slipping it into its covering to set in one of her many bags.

They got dressed, both just choosing a cropped band tee out of Ace’s closet and a pair of jean shorts. They ran downstairs for some breakfast and said goodbye to her parents, calling a “peace out, homie” up to her father in his office, who in turn scolded her for such informal language.

Much like the day before, the air was sticky and too warm, the garage still stuffy from having gone unopened for several days. After struggling to cram their belongings into the trunk, they finally got it organized and closed. “All the cassettes are in the front somewhere, see if you can find them before we get outta town,” Ace was buzzing with excitement. She felt as though someone took a box of popsicles and just blended it all up to inject into her. They were graduated, it was summer and they only had to pop back to drop off Wanda in three weeks. She was stoked.

Taking off across town, they stopped at the gas station for some drinks and a couple snacks before heading out. As they left town, the nice houses started to become fewer and far between, more trees than civilization. There were a few camping spots, but none really. It wasn’t a large town that they lived in, but it wasn’t a small one either. People lived their lives; some would move, many simply stayed. Families in that town ran many generations back, all intertwining as friends or relatives somehow. Although it wasn’t obvious, Ace was desperate to leave. She wanted to experience the city, live a little, do something other than sit around this little town her whole life. Ace was eccentric as her father liked to say, more outgoing than many people in town, but they all just liked her like that.

Trees and mountains grew tall beside them over the hours, sometimes the terrain flattened out. Other times it didn’t. They stopped at a diner about halfway to the “mansion”, right around one in the afternoon. They took it as takeout and drove up to one of the many beach accesses that littered the highway. There were tons of little lakes littered throughout their drive and they took a moment to stand in the fresh water and watch people swim, talking about how good their sandwiches were and what it would be like to be one of the many ducks flying overhead. With a sigh and a stretch, they got back in the car and headed out again.

They barely made it to town, having forgotten to fill up with gas for a third time. They rolled into the gas station just on time, filled up and took the rest of the drive to the mansion. The mansion sat near the lake, about twenty minutes out of town and down a back road. Her parents built it when they first got married, always wanting to have a place to escape to in the summer with the kids, her and Steve felt like they grew up in two places.

As they neared the house though, Ace found herself growing nervous. “Wan, I haven’t seen him in a year and a half… it’s dumb because I kinda missed him.

Wanda had been fully expecting this revelation, just wasn’t expecting it when they were driving along the nicely paved road lined with beautiful red maple trees so close to the house. “Of course you did, you kissed him.” Wanda stretched in the passenger seat, her legs and butt sore from sitting all day, “At least be civil. You can hate him all you want if you so choose, but we both know you’re in love with him.”

Acelynn sighed, glancing to her friend briefly before signalling to turn into the driveway. Wanda’s jaw dropped in awe, “I forgot how nice…” she trailed off, watching as Ace’s face fell. The beautiful lake house had an upper and lower porch, the upper porch extending off the bedrooms upstairs and windows adorning the house in various places. It was a beautiful home, Wanda felt it was almost indescribable, there were no words for how magnificent (and massive) it was. There was a four car garage next to the house that matched the siding. One of the doors was open, housing an all too familiar shiny black car for Acelynn’s liking. “He’s here.” Wanda murmured in an almost creepy sing-song tone.

“And so are we.” She shook her head, pulling up around the planter in the middle of the driveway and stepped out, stretching her legs. “Steven!” She called, pulling the trunk open. On cue, he came bounding down the steps. He ran for his sister who screamed and ran away, a chorus of “no” falling from her lips as he grabbed her waist and hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Barnes! We have a delivery!” He called into the house, grabbing the suit cases with his sister pounding on his back.

“Put me down!” She shouted just as Wanda spun around, wide-eyed and looking rather distraught. Before she could ask anything that’s when she saw it too.

Bucky hand in hand with a beautiful, skinny, tall blonde, Steve’s girlfriend traipsing behind them with a similar expression on her face that Wanda had, hers more apologetic. The red-head Steve was dating, Natasha, knew everything whereas Steve knew nothing aside from the little crush.

Feeling sick, she held onto Steve’s arm a minute as he set her down. Her heart crushed on the floor, she could see it being stepped on right under Bucky’s feet and tears welled in her eyes. Why would he care? She was stupid to think the kiss meant something to him.

>———————————<✪>———————————<

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed it, this was my first tumblr fic and I’m really happy with it so far! I will be posting other parts with time (unless of course no one wants me too).

#bucky barnes #bucky x oc #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky x oc series

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kpoptrashibnida · 3 years

Text

Enchanted Pt. 1

A/N: So I am a total liar because I said I was going to do a Taehyung One Shot, but I am not. I don’t think I was meant for the One Shot lifestyle. I think my problems stems with having too many details in my work :( but I hope that you guys enjoy the beginning of this Tae mini series. I am going to try and stick to 3 to 4 parts, but we shall see. Happy reading! And as always, constructive criticism is always welcome/appreciated!

Moving to South Korea on your own seemed like a good choice at some point. Especially since you came to live with a boyfriend you made online and he promised you a wonderful life in an exciting country. Of course you were too naive to see what was really happening even though your friends and family tried talking you out of it the whole time, up to the day you were due to leave for Incheon.

It was a big surprise to you when you arrived at the airport and he wouldn’t answer your texts. You figured he was stuck in traffic or on his way and didn’t want to text while driving, which is a good thing. But after waiting at the pickup curb for half an hour with still no answer, you started to worry. What if he got in an accident? Is he okay? He couldn’t have forgotten that you were arriving today because you sent him a screenshot of your flight info. Deciding that you had enough, you finally decide to call him.

We are sorry, the number you have dialed is disconnected or no longer in service. Goodbye.

“What the heck?” You whisper to yourself. You try it one more time and get the same message, your heart sinking. Is he ignoring you right now? Why isn’t he picking up? You log into your instagram to message him and your stomach twists in knots when you realize he blocked you. Your chat was no longer available and when you looked him up by username nothing came up. Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization that he was not coming for you and he just completely ghosted you. How could he do such a thing? Why would he promise to live his life with you and have you come out to a foreign country where you only know him just to abandon you? Did he mean it when he said he loved you? Or was it all just a game for him?

Deciding that wallowing in self pity at the airport surrounded by strangers was not something you were about to do, you wipe away the stray tears and get to work.

‘This is why we came with a plan.’ You say to yourself, glad that you didn’t just come without a proper plan in place and blind trust on that bastard you once called your boyfriend.

You looked up a hostel near the airport that was accessible by bus and started on your new journey. Thankfully the public transportation in Korea is amazing and you didn’t have to wait long to get on the bus. Once there, you made sure you kept your ears open for the name of your stop, grateful that you were smart enough to learn some basic Korean so you can get around without a problem.

Taking a deep breath you try not to let your pain crush you and you manage to keep your tears at bay. Even though things are not going the way you planned, that was not going to ruin your plans to live in this country. You are going to make it work and show that bastard that you don’t need him.

****3 months later****

“Hey do you think you can cover my closing shift tomorrow? I have to go wedding dress shopping with my sister.” Minyoung, my coworker asked.

“Yeah that’s fine.” You say with a smile. Any extra income is welcomed especially because rent is almost due and you’re short.

Working at the cafe part time makes you just enough for your rent, but it’s still not enough. The cafe is close by some entertainment agencies and it’s always filled with crazy hopeful fans and on rare occasions, the idols themselves. It was hard to know sometimes because most of the time they were wearing face masks, but on rare occasions they came in without one. You weren’t particularly a big fan of any of these artists but you could say that they were very talented. Minyoung was your closest coworker and she was extremely obsessed with them. She would listen to their music all the time and talk about them non-stop. It was endearing but you were lost half of the time. She tried getting you into it but you were busy with work and your side job as an English tutor, that you didn’t really have a lot of extra time available. Binge watching music videos and tv performances is a luxury you couldn’t quite afford.

Your English tutoring was what made it possible for you to survive without having to eat ramen all day every day. It was great because that way, you didn’t have to call your family and ask them for help. Your parents were no longer angry with you, but they were concerned. You assured them that you were fine and everything was under control, even though they didn’t know that you were actually ditched the second you arrived in the country. You were going to tell them, but you wanted to wait and make it seem like you broke up later on.

Now, however, you were struggling to make ends meet because the family you tutor for left for a two month vacation and you were out of that extra income for that time. So you were more than willing to cover as many shifts as possible, even if it wasn’t the same as your tutoring job. What mattered was that your bills were paid on time, even if you had to eat ramen with Kimchi every day.

You sighed a breath of relief when it was finally time for you to clock out for the day. Your back and feet were so sore, the thought of a hot shower excited your tired limbs. You bid goodbye to your coworkers as you grabbed your purse and left the building. You saw a huge black van park in front of the cafe and you felt grateful that you were off and didn’t have to help the huge group that was coming in. It looked like the type of vans that idols use, but it could also be a school group or even a church group. Regardless, you were glad it wasn’t your problem and you can go home to relax. Besides, who gets coffee this late? The cafe was practically empty now.

Your apartment was close to the coffee shop therefore your commute was short. You lived in an older building but the rent was low and your landlord was nice. She was a sweet old lady that helped you out and didn’t treat you differently just because you were a foreigner. She checks up on you a lot and gives you some banchan from time to time, which you always appreciate because her cooking is amazing.

You take your shoes off as soon as you enter your apartment and sigh at the mess you left in the kitchen this morning before going to work. You woke up late and in a rush to eat some breakfast and make some coffee, so it looked like a tornado passed by your kitchen. You were extremely exhausted and decided that the kitchen could wait until after a nice hot shower and maybe some fried chicken from the place down the street.

After your much needed shower and a clean kitchen, you were able to enjoy your fried chicken while watching some TV. You didn’t watch a lot of Korean TV, mainly sticking to streaming apps like Netflix. But you did enjoy watching the music shows from time to time and tonight was some kind of comeback stage. You watched as the myriad of girls screamed on the TV screen and rolled your eyes at the noise, extremely amused at how they idolized these people. You had to admit that these artists were all gorgeous- men and women, although you knew that the makeup was attributed to it as well. You never knew that men could be cute and sexy at the same time. These pop idols were not afraid to rock some femininity but still managed to look manly and sexy all in one. It was something completely different than what you see back home, but you were not complaining. Before you knew it, exhaustion crept over you and pulled you under without warning.

The second you walked into the cafe you could feel a buzz of energy in the atmosphere that was a little too much for you at such an early hour.

“What’s going on?” You ask Minuk, taking in the giddy whispers of some of the female staff.

“They’re losing their minds because BTS came in yesterday to get some coffee and they are practically drooling.” He grumbles, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous situation.

“They would.” You shake your head, knowing that Minyoung is going to cry the second she hears that BTS was here after she had gone home.

“When did they come?” You ask the group of giddy girls.

“Literally like a minute after you left yesterday! If only you had stayed a little longer.” Bora answers, she was the one who worked the evening shift with you yesterday and she stayed to close the shop.

“It was so amazing. They’re all so nice and down to earth.” She swooned, tying her apron around her waist.

You chuckle at her dreamy expression, thoroughly amused at the whole situation. BTS are a very popular group so it makes sense that they came to get coffee once the place was empty and they had a low chance of getting mauled by crazy fans. You had to admit that they are very talented and passionate about what they do. Since Minyoung is a huge fan of theirs, she would force you to listen to their music and stream any music video that they would release. You would oblige but you haven’t gotten too into KPOP. While you enjoyed listening to it over the speakers at the cafe, the grocery stores and basically anywhere you went, you weren’t a hardcore fan by any means. You were still trying to get fully settled in this country and your priorities were different right now. Perhaps in the future it’s something that you can get more into.

The day went by in a rush and you were surprised at how tired you felt once you finally sat down to have your lunch. Well, it was more like dinner because you were all so busy that getting a break was almost impossible. Today was the first day of the holiday drinks and it seems like all of Seoul was anticipating this day because the incessant line of customers just died down five minutes ago. You were closing for Minyoung today and you were working the closing shift with Dara. she insisted you take a break to eat something before she headed home for the night. You were very thankful because you were starving and your feet ached.

“Okay I’m all done.” You say, coming back from the back room.

“Did you chew your kimbap at all?” She teased, noticing that your break was way too short.

“It’s fine.” You waved her off, you much preferred to get your cleaning tasks out of the way to make closing easier.

“You know what I noticed? Since it was busy all day no one ground the coffee beans for tomorrow’s opening shift. I’m going to do that right now before I leave. It should take me about twenty minutes.” She informs you.

“Oh gosh, yes please. We cannot leave without doing that first. Are you sure you want to stay and do it? Your shift is basically over.” You say, not wanting to keep her here unnecessarily.

“Of course. Besides, it's dead right now and I doubt anyone is going to come in within the next twenty minutes.” She brushes you off and heads to the back where the coffee grinder is.

Thankful for the help, you decide that you should start on your cleaning tasks so you can get out of here soon too. You were concentrating on trying to get a stubborn stain off a table that you were startled when you heard the door’s bell jingle, signaling someone coming into the cafe.

“Welcome.” You quickly greet, bowing at the customer.

“Are you still open?” The deep voice asks, his eyes looking at you intently.

“Yes we are, no worries.” You say, quickly walking back to the register. “What can I get for you?” You ask, taking in the customer’s appearance. He is wearing a black cotton face mask so you can’t see his face that well.

“I’ll have a medium hot chocolate.” He says, looking right at you.

You type the order in the POS system and try not to turn red under the strangers gaze. You are a foreigner after all and you should really be used to the stares by now. One thing is seeing a foreigner on vacation, another thing is seeing them working and living here.

“Okay, anything else?” You ask, briefly glancing up to look at him.

“Just that.” He answers, shaking his head lightly.

“Is it for here or to go?” You ask as you run his card for his total.

“Here.” He says and you quickly look up at him. He just stares back at you and you quickly look back down, the heat now spreading all over your face. It wasn’t very often that people would have their drinks in the cafe this close to closing time, but you couldn’t complain. You informed him that you would bring his drink to his table and he thanked you in that deep voice of his.

You quickly got to making his drink and you carefully took it to his table. As you approached, you could see that he removed his face mask and it was dangling from one of his ears. You were curious to see if his face was as attractive as his voice. The moment you were in front of his table, your breath hitched in your throat. He was very handsome, his smooth skin looking beautiful under the cafe lighting; his hair was fluffy and it looked so soft, making you want to touch it.

“Here you go.” You say with a smile, carefully placing the mug in front of him.

“Thank you.” He says, looking right at your face. You held eye contact for about two seconds but inevitably looked away and walked back to the barista station, deciding that it was the perfect time to clean the area.

You kept glancing back to the table where the guy was and noticed that he would be looking in your general direction and that made you nervous. You hated being watched as you did your job, but he was the only person here.

“Hey, I’m all done with the coffee, I’m going to head out.” Dara says, coming from the back and breaking you from your inner freakout.

“Okay, thank you so much for that.” You thank her, glad that your workload has lessened.

“Oh, I didn’t hear the customer come in.” She says, barely noticing the man sitting at the table. “Oh my gosh.” She suddenly whispered, her eyes as wide as saucers.

“What?” You ask, looking back at the customer and noticed he looked away the second you looked his way.

Dara quickly pulled you to the back, away from his sight.

“That’s Taehyung from BTS!” She whisper-shouted, her body trembling slightly out of excitement.

“Oh. No wonder he looked kind of familiar.” You shrug, his ridiculously good looks now making sense.

“How can you be so passive about this? He’s BTS’s Taehyung!” Dara shakes you slightly, making you laugh at her excitement.

“He’s just a human being.” You reply, rolling your eyes.

You walk back out to the front of the cafe and almost jump back when you see that Taehyung is no longer sitting down but standing right at the counter. Dara eyes you nervously but says her goodbyes, leaving you alone with Taehyung.

“Sorry about that wait. Is there anything else I can help you with?” You ask, your customer service voice on.

“No that’s all, I just didn't want to leave the mug on the table.” He explains, smiling at you.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. Thank you.” You say, bowing slightly and picking up his mug.

He stood there watching you place the mug in the sink, making you feel self conscious about your actions. You slowly turn to look at him, his soft eyes watching your every move. He held eye contact with you for what felt like an eternity but was probably about five seconds. Before you could break eye contact or say anything, he gave you a cute boxy smile, your heart beating irregularly at the sight.

“Have a good night.” He finally said and bowed, before turning around and heading out.

“..Um, uhhh, yeah you too.” You mumble, watching his figure walk out to a car that was parked across the street.

You shook your head and tried to forget the odd encounter, focusing now on locking the door and making this place sparkly clean for the morning shift… which you are working.

By the time you made it to your front door you were practically dragging your feet, exhaustion wracking your whole body. You went straight to the shower and then straight to bed, too tired to even feel hungry.

“You freaking bitch, tell me all about it!” Minyoung screeched the second she walked through the doors of the cafe, which thankfully was empty at the moment.

“Will you keep it down?” You chastise, worried that customers are going to be coming in while she is screaming and cursing.

“Dara texted me last night and said that Kim Taehyung, THE Kim Taehyung was here last night! Is that true?” She questions you, wanting all the details. She is a hardcore BTS fan after all.

“Yes, I didn’t realize who it was until Dara told me.” You tell her, rolling your eyes at her whines about how she can’t believe that you didn’t recognize someone as amazing and handsome and Taehyung.

“Okay but all that aside, I do want to ask you something.” She says after the first wave of customers finally leave.

“What’s that?” You ask, scared of what she might come up with.

“Want to come to a BTS concert with me? My friend and I bought tickets a while ago but she can’t go anymore. If you’re interested, you can have her ticket. You haven’t been to a kpop concert yet and it’s a great experience you should have.” She tried to convince you.

A concert sounded like a lot of fun, especially since you haven’t done many fun things since you arrived in Korea. Minyoung is the first friend you made and you haven’t been able to spend much time with her outside of work because you’re always so busy and you need some distraction.

“Okay, I guess I’ll go.” You give in, smiling at her excited jumping. She promised that you would have a great time and not regret it, which you hope was right.

It was the day of the concert and you were excited to go with Minyoung, even though she was literally going crazy with excitement. She coordinated your outfits in case you got to meet the boys; which you knew was almost impossible but you let her be with her wishful thinking. You felt comfortable and confident in your all-black ensemble, your cute skirt and top giving you a confidence you have not felt in a while, ever since your ‘boyfriend’ ditched you the second you got to this country.

This concert was unlike anything you have experienced back home and you were feeding off people’s energy. Everyone in the stadium was excited and you could feel it in the air and it was contagious. You laughed at the way everyone screamed at the top of their lungs the second the stage started to rise, indicating the start of the concert. The noise was deafening, especially since you had tickets in the pit, right below the stage. Words couldn't describe what you felt throughout the concert. These guys were not just excellent artists, they were amazing performers. The energy they radiated was incredible and you soon found yourself screaming along with the thousands of fans. You were familiar with BTS and knew the name of the different members so it was easy to follow along with the fan chants. There came a point in the concert where the members went to different parts of the stage and they were singing, dancing, being silly and waving at the fans and the cameras. You immediately recognized the member that went to your side of the pit, since he was just at the coffee shop not that long ago. Minyoung was next to you, singing at the top of her lungs while you swayed next to her, smiling at the soulful way she was singing. You were so busy taking everything in, you didn’t notice the person staring at you; his eyes glued to your face and not looking away.

“Omg, look!” Minyoung practically shouted in your ear, your eyes following the direction her finger was pointing.

You see Taehyung walking in front of your section, singing his part of the song, all while looking right at you. You made eye contact with him and he did not break away. You telt like you were in a trance, his brown orbs so tantalizing you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. You felt as if the earth stood still and the only people in that stadium were the two of you. It felt silly to say, but you honestly felt as if there was an invincible cord pulling you towards him, strong and unrelenting. You don’t know if he felt it too, but the way his brown eyes looked at you, it made you feel like perhaps he did.

The moment was broken when he suddenly looked away and ran back to his members that were standing in the main portion of the stage again. The beginning of their last song for the night started and you watched amazed as you still felt that strong pull. Was this something all the fans felt? If so, you totally understand now why they’re so loved by them. The concert ended with a spectacular performance and you were surprisingly sad that the concert was over. Perhaps it was time for you to start finding some time to get more into this band.

“Okay, bitch! What the hell was that?” Minyoung asks excitedly as you walk back to the subway station.

“What was what?” You ask innocently, hoping she would buy your bs lie.

“Girl don’t play dumb with me, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” Minyoung was not having your faux innocence today.

“I honestly have no idea what you are talking about.” You try to play it off but it was no use. You knew she was not going to let you off the hook that easily.

“Come on, don’t be a jerk and tell me!!!!” She practically yelled, earning some glares from a few of the older people waiting for the subway.

“Okay fine.” You relent. “I honestly don’t know what that was all about, but it looked like Taehyung was looking at me. It could have just been a coincidence though.” You try to brush it off, but your heart was being fast at the memory, calling you a liar because it knew that it wasn’t just a coincidence.

“Yeah, okay, coincidence my ass. He was looking right at you and you know it.” She insists as you enter the subway, sitting down on the empty seats.

“Do you think he remembers you from the cafe?” She asks, eyes twinkling at the possibilities.

“I don’t think so. They see and meet a lot of new people all the time, I highly doubt he remembers me. Maybe it’s odd for him to see a foreigner at a show here in Korea.” You offer, not believing that you were special enough for such a successful man to remember.

“Whatever! There are tons of foreigners at their shows here. Trust me girl, I know what I saw. And if he comes by the coffee shop by himself again, then I know I’m right.” She insists as the both of you get off at your subway stops.

“Well if you insist, but I don’t think that’s true.” You say with finality.

“Yeah yeah yeah.” Minyoung waved you off, the both of you parting ways.

You arrive at your apartment and make a beeline to the shower, wanting to wash off the sweat and makeup from the night. Your mind was still buzzing from the encounter at the concert, your stomach fluttering with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Your mind told you that it meant nothing, that it was pure coincidence. But there was a small part of you that wondered if he really remembered you and the look you shared meant something more.

You fell asleep still thinking of those brown eyes, their warmth encompassing you into unconsciousness.

It was two days after the concert and you were exhausted from working two double shifts in a row. Dara had covered your shift so you could go to the concert and now you were paying her back. You also picked up an extra shift because you wanted to eat more than just ramen once your rent was paid. It was an hour before closing and Hana had just left since it was a slow night. You sat at a stool and rested your back for a second, your lower back killing you. The cafe was empty and you needed a small break before you started to clean all the tables. Hopefully you wouldn’t get many more customers at the end of the night.

“Hi, are you still open?” You hear a gruff voice say as they enter the cafe. You stood up at the speed of light and walked back to the counter, embarrassed that a customer walked in and you’re just sitting around.

“Yes, welcome.” You say, bowing slightly.

You look up to take the order of the customer and your breath hitches in your throat, your eyes not believing the sight before them. There stood Kim Taehuyng, his mask hanging from one of his ears.

“Hello, can I get a medium hot chocolate?” He orders, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Oh, of course. For here or to go?” You ask, suddenly wishing that he says to go.

“For here.” He answers.

After you collect payment, you quickly get to work on his hot chocolate. You notice that he sat at the bar and was watching you make his drink, which was extremely nerve wracking. You take a deep breath and turn around, meeting his curious brown eyes.

“Here you go.” You say and place the cup in front of him, averting your gaze.

“Thank you.” He says, his soft deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You get to work, hastily cleaning up the tables and hoping that he leaves soon. He makes you oddly nervous and you don’t know why. It could be the way his eyes seem to stare intently at you, but you can’t be sure. Maybe that’s the type of person that he is and it means nothing. But something in the depths of your stomach makes you feel like that’s not the case. You’re almost done cleaning up the cafe when you hear the stool scrape against the floor, indicating that he has gotten up. You look over, expecting him to be halfway to the door by now but were surprised to see him still standing by the bar.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask, wondering why he is still here.

“No that’s all.” He says, still staring.

“Okay.” You answer, staring back at him.

The silence was very awkward and you didn’t know what to do so you stood in place. He was just looking at you and you could feel your face getting red, giving you away. Could you be blamed? He is such a gorgeous person, you really did not know how to react to him standing there and looking at you like he’s never seen such a monstrosity before.

By the grace of all things holy, he finally broke the silence.

“What’s your name?” He asks curiously, confusing you further.

You stared at him in awe, wondering why the hell Kim Taehyung wanted to know your name. After a few seconds of stupefied silence, you mumbled your name, hoping it was coherent enough.

“I’m Kim Taehyung.” He introduces himself, such a silly thing.

“I know.” You say without thinking, mentally slapping yourself for being so stupid.

He chuckles slightly and you can feel the redness coating your face once again. Great.

“Were you at our concert the other night?” He asks and you swear you have to be dreaming. None of this is real.

“Um, yeah?” You say uncertain, not understanding what’s going on at all.

“I remember you. I hope you enjoyed it.” He flashes a heart stopping smile and you swear you have died and gone to heaven. What the hell is going on?

“Yes, um, I had a great time.” You nod, the urge to pinch yourself very strong because you swear this is a lucid dream.

“Good, I’m glad. I have to get going now.” He tells you and you nod, not understanding what he wants you to do with that information. Of course he has to get going, he can’t stay at the cafe all night.

“I don’t normally do this but, I was wondering if I can get your number?” He asks and has the audacity to look shy and cute and hot all at the same time. Who is this man?

“Uh, ye-yes.” You mumble and write your Kakao id on a sticky note and hand it to him.

“Thanks.” He flashes you a bright smile and bows, waving goodbye.

You bow back and watch his frame walk out of the cafe and into the night. Slapping yourself across your face, the sting indicates that indeed, you did not dream all that up. It was reality and you had no idea why Kim Taehyung wanted your phone number.

You quickly finished cleaning up the last few things you needed before finally closing the cafe and heading home. It was a chilly night and your light sweater was not enough to stop the nippy air from hitting your skin. You power walked home and sigh in relief when the warm air thawed out your skin. After your shower, you had some leftover kimbap for dinner and settled on the couch to watch some late night tv. You were so concentrated on the show that you jumped at the sound of your KakaoTalk chime, indicating you got a message. Reaching for your phone, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you see the unknown sender’s message.

KTH: Hey this is Taehyung. Did you get home safely?

You jumped on your seat and blinked your eyes repeatedly, not believing what your eyes were seeing. Was he actually serious?

Me: Hey, yes I did. Thank you for checking in.

You sat on your couch in anxious excitement. Biting your thumb nail, you were staring down your phone to see if he would reply. When did you turn into this person?

KTH: Good, I’m glad. I was wondering that if you are available, would you like to get something to drink tomorrow night?

Oh crap. Is he serious?

Me: Sure, that sounds great.

Your knee was shaking in excitement, the disbelief coming and going in waves. Was this actually happening? What did you ever do to deserve this?

KTH: Great! I’ll text you the details tomorrow. Good night :)

Me: Good night

You screamed into your pillow, heart racing at the possibilities that tomorrow will bring. You? Getting drinks with THE Kim Taehyung? You don’t know what brought this on, but you will not question it, that’s for sure.

#taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung scenario #taehyung fluff #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts #taehyung and you #taehyungxyou #kpop

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amandaoftherosemire · 5 years

Text

Bulletproof -- Epilogue

Fandom: Marvel/College AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader, Platonic!Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4,405

Format: Series (Complete)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, implied smut.

Summary: Years later, Bucky wakes up alone. He thinks about how he got there before a surprise distracts him.

A/N: I’m so proud to have something completed. (You guys, seriously, I’m such a flake in my regular life. There are people that would be astonished to hear that I’d finished something.) That being said, I am really sorry to be done with this story. I loved writing every part of this. The angst made me cackle like a wicked witch and the fluff made me squeal like a girl. I’m a ridiculous creature when I’m writing.

Thank you so much to everyone who read this story, whether you’ve been with it all year or just found it last week. Every like, every comment, every reblog, means the world to me. I love telling stories and knowing people read and like them is what keeps me going.

I have to give a special shout out to @hellzzzbelle both for being my beta for the first few chapters and for the banner that I’ve used on every single chapter. She’s a peach and I will love her forever.

Part Fourteen here

Epilogue

Bucky woke in complete and utter blackness, his hand closed around the sheets on your side of the bed. It didn't matter how long you'd been gone, how he exhausted himself before falling into bed, or how deeply he slept, he still woke reaching for you every single day. If he'd already been yours the day you finally claimed him, the years together after that had only cemented your hold on him.

No matter how long you’d been gone, he still ached for you like you’d left yesterday. He still turned to talk to you constantly, still thought of you a thousand times a day; anything, no matter how mundane, could remind him of you. The cereal aisle had set him off last week when he’d spotted the Cookie Crisp and he'd remembered how you'd often teased him about his immature stomach.

He rolled over onto his back in the absolute dark, wondering what time it was. He had the day off and no plans, so he hadn't set an alarm. You'd installed the blackout curtains the first year of his residency, stating that if he was only going get three hours of sleep a day, they should be of the highest quality. Thanks to that complete lack of light, however, it could be two in the morning or the afternoon as far as he could tell. Knowing you weren't there made it hard to get up and find out.

He snagged the pillow from your side, burying his face in it, irritated to find that it had almost lost the scent of your hair. He’d known better than to sleep on it so many times, but he’d missed you so damn much. Some days, the days he didn’t have a shift in the ER, or someone like Sam or Nat hadn’t decided he’d burrowed long enough and barged in, it was all he could do to make himself get up. It was hard to find the energy when he’d find nothing but an empty apartment outside the comforting dark.

If you were still here, he’d cheerfully climb out of bed to go looking for you. If you hadn't gotten up much before him, he'd most likely find you in the kitchen, looking for caffeine. He’d once dreamed of finding you at the coffeepot, being allowed to slide his arm around your waist and bury his face in the crook of your neck. Over the years, he’d not only made that fantasy a reality, but a habit.

Bucky never took for granted the hum of pleasure you’d make as you’d tilt your head to give him better access to the soft skin of your shoulders, or the feel of your body pressing warmly back into his. His favorite days, you were still in your robe, the same one you’d had in college. The robe that had ended up on the kitchen floor more times than Bucky could count. The robe that had become weirdly enshrined in your relationship due to its place in the early days of your romance.

The robe that even still hung in the closet, because you hadn’t taken it with you when you left.

Or perhaps he’d find you on the couch the two of you had picked out together, surrounded by papers and books if you were studying or working from home, a book in your hand if you were relaxing. You'd look up at him and, without fail, your face would spread into a welcoming smile and you'd make room for him next to you. He wondered now if he'd ever told you how that smile made his heart skip in love and gratitude every time.

Picking out the couch itself had been an adventure, the two of you each with your own set of priorities for furniture. You’d been concerned with things like color, décor, stain repellant fabrics, etc. as well as comfort, but all Bucky had cared about was whether it was big and comfortable enough for when he inevitably made love to you on it.

With a lot of good-natured teasing and mock exasperation, the two of you had managed to find something that ticked all the boxes, a dark brown, soft, deep, and wide sofa. You’d spent hours upon hours hanging out on that couch, enjoying each other’s company, making love. Bucky had always thought the best part of being in love with his best friend was the conversation as the sweat dried and skin cooled.

He tossed aside the useless pillow and rolled to his side, burrowing under the covers. He didn’t know why he was torturing himself with memories of when you were still here, when he’d wake with you next to him, your scent in his head, your taste on his lips. He also knew he was feeling sorry for himself but couldn’t seem to stop. He started to guess at the time and calculate time differences.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the flash of light as the bedroom door opened and closed so quickly that, were he asleep, it couldn’t possibly disturb him. Bucky lay still, wondering if he'd fallen back to sleep as the only person he knew who had practiced that move often enough to become that adept at it was currently on the other half of the planet. There was no possible way he was awake.

He held his breath at the slight draft as someone slipped between the sheets and smoothly eased over until soft skin was pressing against his, a gentle arm sliding around his waist. Warm breath wafted over the skin across the back of his shoulders, sending goosebumps shivering over his body. His breath shuddered out, his heart pounding in fear and excitement.

“Is there a reason you're pretending to still be asleep?" you whispered against his back, the amused bafflement you felt at his utterly still form coloring the tone. "Or are you not happy I'm here?"

"If I move, I'll wake up and you'll disappear," Bucky whispered back, not entirely joking. "I miss you too much, so there's no way you're actually here."

"Considering how many hours I spent traveling over the past twenty-four hours," you retorted, your voice dry as dust, "I better fucking be here."

Bucky closed his eyes in relief. He'd dreamed of you so many times over the past months, but those dreams had been soft and filmy or raw and heated, featuring your tender heart or powerhouse body, not, as much as he loved it, your smart mouth.

Bucky burst into exuberant movement, tossing the blankets up and rolling over quickly to pull you, laughing, into his arms to squeeze you tight, his heart pounding in delirious joy. “You sure fucking sound like you’re here.” He made you giggle, sniffing at your neck and hair as he hummed happily. "Mmm, you feel like you're here." When he found your mouth with his own in the dark, he sank in, overjoyed to hear your hum of pleasure as he welcomed you home.

You were already breathing harder when he broke the kiss to lean backward, groping for the switch on the lamp beside the bed. He squinted even against the low illumination, but he turned back to look into the face he loved above all others, the face he'd only seen in a window on a computer screen for what felt like an eternity but was, in fact, more like seven months.

You were resting said face on his shoulder, your eyes tired from the exhaustion of traveling halfway across the world, but your smile sparkled with love and happiness. "Yup, looks like my girl, too," Bucky murmured as his hand came up to trace the line of your jaw with his thumb. "Except," he went on, frowning, "this might be a dream," he took your chin in his hand and tilted your face back and forth, making your lips twist in amusement, "because I’m almost positive you're prettier now than when you left, and I'm also almost positive that was impossible."

Bucky's pretty face melted into the sweet smile that charmed you as no other could. You couldn't stop the sigh that escaped you in response to both his tender expression and his flattery. You never knew when he was going to tease or taunt, the push-pull of your personalities part of how you'd beat the odds. It hadn't been easy, but you'd managed to stay together through years of education, building two demanding careers, and most recently long distance. You believed in your heart that the secret was remembering to express your love, every day, and to laugh together, every day. Best was when you combined the two.

"Sweet-talker," you murmured as you slid your arm around his neck to bury your hand in the hair he'd let grow to almost his shoulders. Tousled from sleep, stubbly, and a little hollow-eyed from overwork, he was, somehow, always, the sexiest man you'd ever laid eyes on. The sparkle of the solitaire on your finger made your heart race every time the light caught your eyes, so excited were you to claim him forever. Bucky had rolled his eyes even as his cheeks had pinked up when you complained that men didn't wear engagement rings, because you didn't think it was fair that everyone could see that he loved you but not that you loved him, too.

Wanting to hang a sign on him to proclaim dibs wasn’t completely insane. The man had only gotten hotter every freaking year. He got hit on at work on a near daily basis; only your absolute confidence in him kept you from melting down into an insane jealous rage some days.

"I love the surprise," he murmured as you drew his face slowly down to yours. You were thinking you had just about enough energy to bang him before the jet lag got to you. "But I wish I’d known so I could take some time off while you’re here."

"That IS the surprise." You ran your hand through his hair, brushing your lips against his, “I'm not going back.” Your face lit up in a smile so radiant he thought his heart would burst from the beauty of it. Not only home, he thought in relief, his throat aching, but home to stay. He slid his arms around you, one under your shoulders, the other around your waist, to hold you as close as possible as his mouth took yours in a kiss as passionate as it was joyous.

Once your mouth was free again, you used it to suck at the skin of his neck, knowing it drove him crazy. “Okay,” you said against his throat as you started shoving at the thin white t-shirt he’d worn to bed, “that’s not strictly accurate.” Bucky pulled back to look at you with anxious eyes, terrified to have his happiness ripped away so soon. Your hands came up to cup his face to reassure. “I have to go back for a couple of weeks in a few months, but other than that, I'm home for keeps.”

You giggled when he squeezed you tight enough to push the air out of your lungs. “Really?!” The exclamation was both incredulous and relieved. “Really really? Oh!” Bucky let you go to flop onto his back with a dramatic thump. “Thank god!” he shouted at the ceiling. He lifted his head to look at you when you lay across his chest to grin into his face, chin on the back of your crossed wrists. “I have been lying my ass off for months. I was not okay without you.”

Your face softened into a loving half-smile. "I know. Sam kept me posted."

To be clear, it had been a text from Sam begging you to come home and put him out of his misery that had prompted you to start taking steps to get home as soon as possible. Please, y/n, I can't take another six months of this mopey bastard, his exact words.

Bucky's arms came around you to run his hands over your back, running his hands up under the hem of your t-shirt. "That traitor." His voice was a growl, irritated that Sam would sell him out. Even still, he couldn't stop smiling helplessly at you. He couldn't see your face, feel you in his arms and not smile. "I didn't want you to know. It was such an opportunity for you." His irrepressible smile twisted sadly. "I didn't want you feel bad, least of all to cut it short, just because I'm a whiny bitch."

You pushed yourself up until you were laying on his chest, half on top of him, your face a breath from his, upset that he'd misunderstood. "It's okay! I didn't!" You kissed him quickly, then pulled back to grin tiredly at him. "Shuri's not just a worker bee; she's a madwoman." You shook your head, thinking of the young scientist with whom you'd gotten a once in a lifetime chance to collaborate. "Seriously," you laughed, "Tony was a cakewalk in comparison. She was perfectly happy to overwork with me so I could get home to you faster."

That made Bucky's eyes narrow in suspicion. "Three months faster?" he asked, disbelief coloring the tone. "How much did you overwork?" He'd been drinking in your face, but with the eyes of a lover. Now he started looking at you with the eyes of a doctor and could see the signs of sleeplessness and missed meals.

You rolled your eyes, but your mouth was twisted in a warm, wry smile. You knew why he was mad at you, knew you'd be equally mad if he'd neglected his health for you, but you couldn't regret it for a moment. Not when you were laying almost on top of a man unreasonable in his beauty, a man that you could personally attest only got better with age, like fine wine, or great cheese, or 16-bit video games. Whatever it took to get you here was worth it.

Even still. No reason to be a martyr about it. Your lips twisted again, this time with heat. "Enough that I really must insist that you dote on me for at least a week," you replied, your eyelids lowering in the shy, sultry look he'd fallen for the first time he saw it. In all the years, it had never lost its punch, its power.

Steve had once painted you as a melancholy mermaid; that painting now hung in Steve and his wife's living room. He’d given the Faerie Queene to Gamora. She'd taken it with her when she'd moved to Washington D.C. after her election to Congress. She'd always wanted to change the world for the better; her cutthroat mindset had already made her enemies, and the beginning of a name.

Bucky's dryad hung in his office, and he'd gone in there every day since you'd left to remind himself of the look of your face, alight with love and happiness. Robin Goodfellow hung in the bedroom you shared, where you'd gotten him through the loneliest times.

But to Bucky, you'd remained his Puck tempting him into mischief with a dare. He'd never tried to resist, not that he'd never wanted to.

And he certainly wasn't going to start today.

With a grin and a growl, his arms were banding around you to drag you close even as he rolled you under him. You held on with a happy giggle, delighted to let him take care of you. As he went about using his years of experience and familiarity, as well as the desperate passion of fond absence, to coax you first to pleasure, then to ecstasy, you soaked it up like parched earth in a summer storm.

Less time than he would have liked later, he lay entwined in your arms, forehead against yours, out of his head and out of breath. He'd feel worse about it, but to be fair he'd been without you since you'd come home for the holidays over six months ago. He couldn't believe he once worried that he wasn't cut out for monogamy. Nearly a decade later and you still left him wrecked.

You stretched with a happy hum and nuzzled your nose and mouth against his as you ran your hands over his skin in an instinctive need to remind yourself of the sensory experience of being loved by Bucky. Sometimes he could be overwhelming in his almost hedonistic approach to expressing his love for you. Today was not one of those days; you were as hungry, as desperate as he.

Bucky nuzzled back with a purr, reveling in the feeling of your hands combing through his hair. The sensation of your nails scraping his scalp had him feeling like he was a randy twenty-year old who only needed five minutes to recover for another bout. Worried about the exhaustion around your eyes, however, Bucky rolled off you, keeping his arms around you to keep you close. You draped yourself across him once more, your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat a pure contentment.

The rumble of his voice made you smile even before you heard what he was saying. "I am never going to hold you back but, babygirl," at this Bucky squeezed gently, "if you need to go somewhere, I need you to take me with you."

Your eyes softened in both affection and remorse. "You know I would have if I could."

Wakanda had begun to open itself to the rest of the world, but the nation was still very insular. General Okoye, the head of the royal guard, had accepted your presence in the palace due to your one-on-one work with Princess Shuri. However, your proximity to the people she'd vowed to protect had made her deeply uncomfortable with the idea of you bringing a plus one.

After discussing it, you and Bucky had decided it was too phenomenal an opportunity to risk offending your hosts. He'd stayed behind in New York while you'd gone to Wakanda, for what was supposed to be a year, to collaborate with the greatest mind on the planet. Combining your work on connecting both the body and the brain to prosthetics with Shuri's work on, well, everything, but vibranium in particular, the two of you had designed a new arm for Bucky.

You were supposed to stay for the manufacturing, but Shuri would be sending you video instead. You could hardly wait to see it yourself, let alone show it to Bucky. You were practically beside yourself in excitement, because you knew how amazing it would be when it was completed.

Bucky's expression turned horrified. "I know it, baby; I'm not saying that." He turned further onto his side to snuggle closer to you, pull you into his arms. He kissed you gently and smiled gratefully. "I'm just saying I missed you like goddamn crazy."

You pressed your cheek to his and closed your eyes, basking in the knowledge that you were home where you belonged, in the arms of the man you'd love your whole damn life. "I missed you, too, Bug." You said it on a sigh, the sound both happy and relieved and Bucky knew you felt what he felt. Everything had been askew, but now that you were here, his world had righted again.

"When I have to go back, do you want to go with me?" You smiled, already knowing what the answer would be. "General Okoye no longer objects." Your voice turned smug. "She likes me. I think it's because I worship her, but she likes me and said I could bring my man next time."

He gathered you close, enfolding you in thick, brawny arms and a wide chest. "Fuck, yes, I want to go," he answered, his tone disbelieving that you'd even ask. "And of course she likes you." He released his own sigh of contentment, then grinned at himself. "Now," he said in a low, warm murmur, "you said something about doting on you?"

You shook your head back to give him a lecherous eyebrow wiggle. "Is that what we’re calling it?"

Bucky laughed but shook his head in mild exasperation. "Y/n, I was thinking you need food and sleep."

"Yeah, alright." You bobbed your head agreeably. "I can get behind that." Your expression shifted back to that lecherous leer, humor making your eyes sparkle and making Bucky's heart skip a beat. "After you get behind me."

Much later, Bucky found you at the coffeepot, in your old silk robe, the colors faded but still beautiful to his eyes, pouring a cup of fresh coffee. Feeling like the act was a balm on his soul, Bucky came up behind you, sliding his arm around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck to smell the unique scent he could find only there, a scent that was indelibly written on his memory. He breathed deep with a hum of pleasure and contentment, the press of your body against his incredible in its simple joy.

"Coffee?" He spoke against the skin of your neck, his lips sending delicious shivers down your spine. He'd tried to exhaust you with pleasure the second time he'd made love to you. He'd succeeded, but you were stubborn. "Don’t you need sleep?"

"I don’t want to sleep yet." You set the cup on the counter and turned in Bucky's arms to slip your arms around his neck and pull yourself close. He responded by enveloping you in his arms, surrounding you in his body, his scent, his warmth. You sighed in contentment. Bucky hadn't been the only one who'd had an excruciatingly difficult time with the separation. You would never be sorry that you'd taken such an opportunity, not only for your career, but also just for the experience. That didn't mean you hadn't wished he was with you on a near-constant basis.

Bucky heard the contentment, but also the dragging fatigue. "Rest, then," he rumbled in your ear, seeking to persuade. He could feel in the slight sway to your body how tired you were. "Let's go cuddle on the couch and watch a movie."

You loosened your arms a fraction so that you could pull back and glare suspiciously into his face. You couldn't stop looking at him, touching him, reveling in the reality of him. "For someone who missed me so much," you noted, eyes narrowed, lips twitching, "you sure are interested in the concept of me, unconscious."

The corner of Bucky's mouth lifted along with one eyebrow as he scoffed out a laugh. "I much prefer you awake, babygirl," his arms tightened around your waist and his head dipped to yours to kiss you quickly, "for that especially, but I'm worried about you." His voice turned gently wheedling, "Besides, I could use the rest, too. It was what I planned to do today anyway."

Your eyebrows lifted as your eyelids lowered, giving you a skeptically unamused look, though Bucky knew your face, no matter how long you'd been away, and he could see the humor in the set of your lips. "You planned to cuddle with someone on the couch and watch a movie?" you asked suspiciously. (After this long, the last thing you'd worried about when leaving was Bucky's faithfulness. He'd murder a puppy before he'd cheat on you.) Your face relaxed as you tilted your head. "Was it Sam?"

Bucky rolled his eyes as his laugh rumbled through him. "What can I say?" Losing patience, he bent to put his arm behind your knees and scooped you up to carry you. "His arms make me feel safe."

"I can see that," you allowed as you leaned out of Bucky's arms to snatch up your cup of coffee from the kitchen counter. Once you had it cradled against your chest to minimize the risk of spilling, you settled against Bucky's chest and let him take you to the couch. "Okay," you continued as Bucky set you down, "we both know I'm gonna nod off and I don't want to sleep away the whole of your day off." Bucky used the pillows you'd piled on the couch to make a bed on which he could hold you. "Don't let me sleep too long."

Snuggling you into the curve of his body, he pressed his nose to your hair and breathed deep. Your couch was deep enough that the two of you could lie comfortably together if he spooned you. Bucky grabbed the remote to put something on for the drone of noise, hoping to put you to sleep. "You're the boss, babygirl."

Bucky dug in his pocket when his phone vibrated. He'd typed out a quick text before he'd gone looking for you, asking his closest friend from work if she could take his shift tomorrow so he could spend the day with you. He wanted you to sleep as long as you needed, but he also wanted to spend hours talking to you, reveling in the reality of you.

When he saw her affirmative response, he relaxed into the pillows, curling more fully around you. "Christine sends her love. She took my shift tomorrow."

At the sleepy "Yay!" you released, Bucky chuckled softly as he closed his eyes in bliss.

You hovered at the edge between sleep and awake, too comfortable and content to stay awake, no matter how you wanted to. The reason you wanted to was the same reason you couldn't, the man in whose arms you rested, cradled safe against his chest like something both fragile and precious. For all his care and concern, however, he never let you doubt his absolute confidence in you. As far as Bucky was concerned, there was nothing you couldn't do.

That show of unconditional faith and support, combined with the unshakeable love he'd given you from the beginning, had helped give you the courage to leave the man you loved and all of your friends and family to work halfway across the world. How could you doubt yourself when he was so certain you could do it?

You fell asleep in his arms, his body curved protectively around you, as you relaxed into the feeling of utter safety. In an odd roundabout way, James Buchanan Barnes had, by loving you with his whole heart, made you bulletproof.

The End

Taglist:

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#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky fanfiction #Bucky fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #college au #bulletproof #series #pantswrites

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hecohansen31 · 4 years

Text

The Magic Words Is:

F&R! Michael Langdon+Inscure! Reader

(A/N): Hello there, lovely!

This suckety suck...

But also I don’t like keeping my things to myself and also... honestly... you have read worse from me, so...

This came up when I was talking with @blakewaterxx and she jokingly said, after I apologized a few too many times that if I kept doing that she would make Michael punish me... and I took it a bit more seriously than I should have...

So here comes this...

Have fun reading it!

Let me know what you think, and I also let’s hope this doesn’t die as my all my fics lately... I am just too done to deal with that right noq!

WARNINGS: Dom-Sub Relationship, Spanking, Punishment, Sexual Themes, Mention of Sexual SItuations, Nudity, Mention of Self-Harm.

It wasn’t that Michael despised that you had this kind of gentleness and frailty to you.

No, he actually enjoyed it.

But he couldn’t tolerate anybody else taking advantage of it.

Aside him, obviously.

It was mostly because it would show some kind of emotion he had defined as weak since it would show your submission to someone else…

… that wasn’t him.

That morning: Jeff and Mutt had tormented you for the entire morning under Michael’s attentive gaze, and although he had wanted to intervene, he couldn’t do much, mostly because you personally didn’t want him to intervene in your work life, but also because he had wanted to see how far this would all go.

To see if you would fight them back.

Through the entire morning you had bended yourself to Jeff and Mutt’s will, the two cokeheads taking extreme advantage of your willingness to please, till it brought you over to the edge of a big psychotic attack, since their coke-burned brain thought that you could much more than it was humanly possible.

But you instead of shutting them off or fighting them off… you had continued on undergoing their humiliations, but worse of all, apologizing for any mistake they made you notice, although half the time it wasn’t your fault, and the other half… you didn’t do it on purpose.

He hated whenever you would apologize with no reason for it.

He desperately had tried to force that attitude away from you, in a calm way, simply trying to make you notice the error of your way, but apparently it wasn’t enough.

He had to use something that would get into your little insecure mind.

He had called you after lunch, making sure that the two cokeheads watched as his arrival accidentally burned their newest stash of purest coke and he made no secret of his link to you.

You never wanted to let your relationship be out in public, so this was a big no against all your rules.

“It wouldn’t be professional” you chanted gently, whenever the argument would be brought up, as he looked at you confused, mostly because he knew how much you liked being taken over the desk at work, but he didn’t dare intervene on such things, preferring to leave you the control of it.

But he had had enough, today.

“Mr Langdon, what did you need me for?” your eyes shone already bright as you closed the door behind you and he settled on his work-chair, preparing yourself to a session of hard sex, knowing all too well that Michael was a man that liked to be pleased at his own orders and commands and who requested extreme discipline.

“(Y/N)” but something broke your mental scenario as you heard him calling you like that.

You usually roleplayed since it was a kink you both shared, mostly if something was going down in the office, but whenever he called by your name not only it meant he wasn’t in the mood to play, but he wanted the true “(Y/N)”, not some doe-eyed and sex-starved secretary as in your shared fantasies.

It also, most of the time, meant trouble.

“Michael” you knew better than to answer with anything other than his name, since it shared some kind of deep intimacy Michael ached for, more than the sex and the thrill.

“… you do realize what you did today, don’t you?”.

You actually didn’t but you also knew that if Michael was using that tone you had done something bad for sure so there was no use in pretending.

“I don’t know, sir, but I am sure that it was something bad” because whenever you were Michael’s “good girl” he wouldn’t have that flaming look.

“Then why don’t we go over your morning?” he replied, mentioning for you to sit onto his lap, something that made you huff a breath of relief, although you knew it wasn’t over.

But the fact that you were allowed to touch Michael was something that made you truly happy, and wouldn’t always be allowed during your punishments, making everything even more hurtful.

“… I came in early as always…” mostly because it would be just you and Michael and more time than not, before he had to give an important discourse, he would love to have a quickie with you, so you had to be there for him… or you might get punished.

(One time you hadn’t been able to come at work because of a terrible stomach flu and hadn’t even been able to raise from the bed to tell the Cooperative that you would be taking a sick day and Michael had strangely surprised you to your apartment.

You had half-expected him to want sex or anything, but he had just explained to you all the research he had done on how to cure stomach flu, parading yourself with an entire pharmacy, and asking whether you felt up to eat something so that he could order someone to cook it for you.

You had tried to excuse your terrible state, but Michael had ignored all your “sorry”s and just pushed you again in bed, gently pushing away your sweat-filled hair from your forehead, meanwhile he cooed you to sleep and relax).

And from that memory you realized what you had done wrong.

“…is this because I said ‘sorry’ too many times?” because Michael had shushed you every time it would happen, mostly when it was about things you couldn’t control, like Jeff and Mutt’s stupidity.

He smirked, but his smile was in no way reassuring.

“Oh, don’t I have a smart girl on my lap?” he praised you and gently leaned down to kiss you, his hand securely lacing though your hair pulling on them lightly, but enough to make you moan in his mouth “… then you’ll know what you get for this”.

You nodded, already trying to make your way to his laps, in order to lay with your tummy flat against his them, but he kept his hold onto your hair tight, keeping you in place.

“… but first I need you to tell me what you did wrong and why it is so wrong”.

His tone was extremely honeyed, and he made sure to look at you in the eyes, another technique that you couldn’t stand, since when he had first met you, you would barely be able to hold his gaze, and although it still embarrassed you, mostly during sex, you had gotten better.

And Michael didn’t mind the little blush on your cheeks.

He actually cherished it.

“I showed no concern for my own physical and mental health, letting those two idiots…” Michael’s grin grew bigger, since before him you wouldn’t have even brought yourself to think even something remotely wrong about your colleagues, but he had influenced you, in some way…

… well it truly showed that he could corrupt even the purest of souls.

“Continue, (Y/N)”.

You trembled at the mention of your name, and he gently pushed a kiss onto your forehead: the stillness in his movement acting as some kind of calm before the storm.

“… and I let them bully me, and most importantly I acted as if it was my fault for every mistake they had done, hence apologizing uselessly and degrading myself to a position that doesn’t belong to me”.

“What is your natural position, lovely?” he asked and grabbed strongly onto your chin, making you face him, feeling the slight warmth of your heated cheeks.

“By your side, on your lap or down on my knees…” you replied, without thinking, something that pleased Michael to his oblivion, since he was rather glad that his pet knew her place “… solely belonging to you”.

“That is a good answer, sweetheart” he mumbled, but his gaze didn’t show any kind of mercy and he didn’t help you in the slightest as you pushed yourself to face the desk, moving your body so that your arms could rest onto it, meanwhile you moved away from Michael’s lap, pushing your toes to meet the ground and stay there.

Then your spread your thighs, although you didn’t dare to remove your skirt.

It was a frilly thing that Michael had gotten you for a day-event you had attended with him.

He hadn’t minded too much about the design or the price the most important thing to him was the easy access of the entire thing, barely needing for Michael to raise it and push your underwear apart to enter you.

…had you worn panties.

Which didn’t happen today.

Michael snickered at your improper condition and gently mouthed a small kiss onto your shoulder, over the silky fabric of your blouse, and then he blew some soothing air in your ear, making you shiver, the perfect occasion for him to remind you to stay still.

“I’ll need you to count…” he whispered in your ear, gently palming your perfect ass, a little lighter than the rest of your body, almost as a proof of your innocence, which he couldn’t wait to taint “… or I’ll lose the count and end up being a bit too rough, understood, lovely?”.

You nodded, but to Michael it wasn’t enough and pulled again on your hair.

“… yes, sir” you mumbled, and he welcomed your obedience with a caress on your lower back, which, although had some kind of calming effect, it didn’t make you less aware of what was going to happen.

“They’ll be fifteen slaps” he explained to you, meanwhile he got the skirt completely out of the way and you gripped onto the edge of his desk “… one for each time you said ‘sorry’, today“.

You rolled your eyes (you were almost thankful that he couldn’t see your face) at the thought that he had actually counted them.

You knew it pissed him off, but you didn’t expect him to get this serious about it, although it all worked in your favor, seeing as you could already feel wetness between your thighs and arousal pool in your stomach, making you quite excited.

You already knew it would have been a tough session, it always happened when you weren’t roleplaying.

But you were ready for it.

You almost ached for it.

“Understood, sir”.

The first slap was always the hardest one, and not because Michael could be vicious, but more because of the surprise effect it always had, not matter the fact that you knew it would be coming.

You swallowed and Michael hung his hand back, waiting for your response which came in a low squeal, mumbling “one” and a “thank you, sir”.

He smirked satisfied and leaned closer to you, who immediately shifted lightly away from him, again for the surprise and anxiety than for the actual hurt, which was soothed by his big hand, gently palming it.

“Good girl…” he mumbled in your ear, before he laid there a kiss, his hair tickling your shoulder.

The praise and the tickling sensation made you giggle, but another slap shushed you, pushing you further away on the desk.

The came an another.

And a fourth one.

Fifth and sixth where were you got used to the feeling, the constant burn of your ass, dulling a bit the following hits, meanwhile wetness kept on dribbling from your cunt

As you went to reach your tenth slap, you were lightly overwhelmed, since Michael had slapped your cunt instead of your ass, on the previous, making you yelp at the pleasurable pain and you were sure that one of your manicured nail had etched itself on his desk, at the sudden wave of pleasure.

You tried to calm your breath but the tenth was too sudden, again hitting your clit and setting it on fire and you screamed more out of instinct than actual thought:

“Yellow”.

Yellow was the color to make Michael slow down and he did, gently pushing himself away from you, meanwhile you took some deep breaths, trying to shift away your focus from your cunt and ass, both aching, but for different reason, hence making you even more confused and overwhelmed.

Michael brushed some strands of hair away from your face and solely in that moment you realized they were drenched with sweat, and your bottom lip being not only swollen from your compulsive biting, but also wet due to the saliva that had gotten on it.

“Was it too much” he asked, trying to keep his tone even and neutral.

He wanted to seem distanced, as he always did when you would either say your safe-word.

He thought that he could pretend he didn’t care, but you knew all too well he did.

He would hug you a bit too tight after those session, worried that you might run away.

“No, I just need a breather” you commented as soon as you regained your voice, calming yourself from the messy sensations going through your body, trying to focus on regaining control over it, meanwhile Michael gently caressed your back.

“I am ok, you can start again, sir” you commented once you felt comfortable again, gently setting down so that you wouldn’t get stabbed in the stomach by Michael’s laptop onto the desk.

He set himself up behind you, again, but before he went on to carry on the rest of the punishment he pulled you against him and not only you felt his breath against your ear, but you understood that you weren’t the only one affected by this situation, feeling him gently press his hard length against you.

“Do I have to avoid something, (YN)?” again your name meant that he was serious, and you just shook your head, but Michael needed again vocal confirmation.

“No, I am fine” and when he searched your eyes, you added “... seriously”.

At the start of your relationship you had used the harsh sex and the punishments as a way to cope with some awful things that had been going through you, hence it had been extremely painful for you, enough that although you should have safe-worded, you hadn’t.

This had reached a point that broke you internally, and Michael had known it…

… and he had brought you back from it.

He knew that he was supposed to be happy of your broken and corrupted soul, but he had realized that you didn’t deserve it.

And that was the moment he had realized that he loved you.

And would cherish you and protect you to the end of the world.

“… then you have five more, don’t you”.

You nodded your head eagerly, opening your mouth to answer him and he made you close it with a harsh slap, although he avoided your cunt this time, hitting the fullness of your blossom, so the hit was less painful.

The twelfth wasn’t, since he hit were the skin was more red and hurt, and you were sure that his handprint would already show on your ass and they would remain for even the following day.

You didn’t mind it.

The thirteenth was also strong and the fourteenth was slowed only by Michael’s own hand hurting, and it stilled on your ass, slowly moving to cup your cunt, making you gasp lowly and you closed your eyes at the sudden sensation of pleasure, already ready for the fifteenth slap to end this torment.

Would you have to beg Michael for the sweet release, or would he have given it to you as a reward?

“Sometimes I wonder whether I am truly punishing or indulging your little flaws” he mumbled, against your ear.

You could feel his hand being left in the air, halfway through meeting your ass, and you closed your eyes, squeezing them together, already ready for the pain.

But the fifteenth slap was a simple pat on your ass.

Which didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt, since your ass was irritated and swollen, but wasn’t what you expected, showing you a softness which was unusual with Michael, but you knew he held just for you.

It was what had brought you back after you had been thoroughly broken.

Michael wasn’t careful with you as a china-doll but he surely knew better than you your body.

“… but I also can’t deny that this has some kind of allure to me too” he said as he cupped your cunt and collected some wetness from there, swiftly turning you around and pushing you onto the desk, his laptop effectively burying and marking your back, but you didn’t care.

Not as Michael tasted you as if you were his favorite meal, gently swirling his tongue around his finger in a show of tongue that almost got impressed in your mind, and made you ignore his question.

This time a light tap was delivered to your thigh making you bite down onto your tongue and Michael sent you a harsh glare, although he did repeat what he asked of you.

“Why did I punish you pet?”.

“Because I put my health to risk, undervaluing myself” you knew it.

It was hard to fight that sense when you just felt so damn insecure all the time.

But slowly Michael was making it all better.

“It wasn’t you who was bad, was it?” he mumbled, gently pushing his fingers away from your thighs, moving onto your inner thighs, meanwhile he came closer enveloping you gently, being careful to avoid brushing your ass.

“No, it wasn’t me who was bad, it was my actions that were bad”.

“… and bad actions always have consequences” he finished softly, before he suddenly sank to his knees, between your thighs, a truly magical sight “… but good ones do also have some consequences. Are you ready pet for your reward?”.

Well this time, all you could say was “thank you”.

---

Tagging some of the few that are on my taglist:

@blakewaterxx @emmyrosee @1-800-bitchcraft @rocketgirl2410 @ladynuwanda @frenchbread4ever @lovelylangdonx @kaetastic @lathraios @rosegoldrichie

#michael langdon #michael langdon reader #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon smut #f&r michael langdon #michael langdon moodboard #michael langdon fic #michael langdon oneshot #michael langdon one shot #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon fan fic #michael langdon x female reader #ahs writing #american horror story #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs apocalypse

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rosethesongbird · 4 years

Text

Lady of the Lake Chapter II

Thanks all, for the love/likes/reblogs on Chapter I. You can read that aforementioned Chapter I here.

If anyone has any suggestions for a title for this story, I’d love to hear them.

-R

Epione rose from her place at the side of the bed.

“Well, that’s that,” she said, using the last clean rag to wipe her face. “Do you plan to stay the night with us, Witcher?”

“Not like I have a choice,” said Geralt, still focused on the smaller man asleep in the bed.

“Of course you do,” said Epione, chuckling. “You just wouldn’t take it for anything else in the world.”

Geralt turned to look at her, silently, his jaw set. She was hanging her apron, facing away from him. She was making herself vulnerable. She was not afraid. It was almost annoying to see, due to the fact that every nerve in his body was still screaming, his friend was in danger, and he just let a complete stranger cut him, on purpose.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” she said. “Although, it’s not the first time I’ve had daggers stared into my back. You just aren’t used to being read so easily. But that’s alright,” she turned to face him, stoking her fireplace. “I won’t tell a soul.” She smiled.

“Hm.”

“Well, since you’re staying the night, you can choose your bed,” she said. “I usually sleep in the bed upstairs, it’s yours if you want it. I’ll be waking up every hour and a half or so to wake him, as counterproductive as that may seem, so I’ll sleep here. Of course, you can always choose to sleep down here with us, if you’d like.” She removed her overdress, revealing a simple cotton chemise. Her braid seemed to uncoil itself from the bun, reaching halfway down her back. “I will warn you, though, you’ll get more rest upstairs. And you look like you need it.”

Geralt turned back to Jaskier, his hand now resting on the man’s chest. He felt like if he moved, Jaskier may stop breathing. But he was exhausted. The last hunt had not been kind to him, and this whole…situation came immediately after.

“I…don’t get much sleep even on my best days,” he said, his voice coming out much more callous than his heart felt.

“Well, tomorrow, we will go down to the Pool,” said the small woman, now sitting next to him. She cautiously placed her hand on his knee. “The waters are enchanted, and can assist with many things, insomnia included. They should speed up the healing process. He’ll still have to stay here for…well, three or four days to be safe,” she leaned down, turning her head until she was pushing her way in to Geralt’s line of sight. “For which I’m guessing I’ll have not one guest, but two,” she said, smirking.

“I suppose so,” he said, rising. “I’m going to check on Roach.”

“I feel like a horse so beautiful should have a more beautiful name,” said Epione. “Would you mind refilling this?” she handed him the bucket, full of water now filthy with blood and remnants of infection. “Oh, and,” she opened the cabinet, removing a small lump of sugar from a bag. “Give this to…Roach, and tell her she’s a very good girl,”

Geralt smirked. She had no idea how good Roach really was.

After updating Roach on the night’s events, he returned with the clean bucket.

The girl was already asleep.

Jaskier’s bed had been fortified with more strategically placed pillows than Geralt could count, and the girl slept with a single pillow and small blanket on a cot next to the bed.

There was a third cot, empty, with an extra pillow and blanket folded neatly on top of it, and a note. The note was written in neat, yet blocky script. She must usually write in runes.

Witcher, Geralt of Rivia-

Thank you for your dutiful assistance to me and my patient. I’m sure I speak for both of us when I say it is greatly appreciated.

Please, feel free to help yourself to the pantry, and adjust the fire to your liking. And expect a fresh, hot, homemade breakfast in the morning. It’s my pleasure.

-E

P.S. Please consider joining us in the Pool tomorrow. I think you will find it worthwhile.

—

Geralt jolted awake to the sound of a choked sob.

“Breathe, sweetheart,”

The girl was already awake. A few strands of hair had fallen out of her braid during the night. The fire was smoldering, and the first light of dawn was coming in the window. He had to reluctantly admit to himself that the girl was right. He was exhausted. He had expected to wake every time she had risen, and instead had abandoned his companion by sleeping through the night.

“I can’t, I can’t,” said Jaskier, wheezing, lips blue, face wet with tears. “I’m dying,”

“You aren’t dying, songbird. I promise. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“What’s going on?”

“The infection spread to his chest before I could treat it,” said Epione, eyes bright despite the early hour. “Here, watch him for a minute,” she hopped off her cot, barefoot, nearly gliding over to the cupboard of medicines. “I can fix this but it’ll take me a moment. Oh, good morning, by the way.”

“Yeah, what a great way to wake up, very…relaxing,” Geralt said, moving to the bard’s bedside.

Epione scoffed. “Don’t take this out on me, Witcher,” her speech was muffled, a vial of herbs in her hand and the cork in her mouth. “It helps not a single one of us, and especially not him.”

“Sorry, I just…Fuck. Nevermind.”

“Geralt?” Jaskier broke into a fit of coughing. Wet coughing. Epione tossed a rag on Geralt’s cot. Blood began seeping from Jaskier’s parted lips. His face was so pale it almost appeared gray.

“Hey, uh… you’re going to be fine,” said the witcher. This felt so…tender. He owed it to Jaskier, for all the times he had insisted on patching up Geralt after a rough fight, or a rougher break-up. He realized that he was wiping the blood from his lips, and gripping his hand. The gesture came naturally, seemingly from a part of Geralt’s heart he didn’t himself have access to. Jaskier was shaking like a leaf in autumn wind. He was gasping for breath.

“I thought… I was dreaming,” he said, throat seized, with fear or with sickness; Geralt didn’t know.

“What did you dream?”

“Geralt of Rivia caring to hear my dream,” Jaskier laid back into the pillow. “Now I know it is a dream,” he laughed, a humorless laugh, that swiftly became another coughing fit.

“No, Jaskier,” Geralt growled. “Stay awake, this is real,” his piercing golden eyes trained on the soft blue ones before him, feeling like if he looked long enough it would keep the other man from falling asleep again.

“I was dreaming, that…” the blue eyes closed in a grimace of pain. An arched back. A keening whine. “…There was, this woman, and I was so afraid, but when I looked at her, it was like I knew, everything was okay,” the eyes opened, soft, raspy speech broken by heaving, rattling breaths. “It felt like, she was,” the eyes closed again, seeking for a word.

“An angel?” said Epione, appearing at Geralt’s side, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Drink, love,” she tipped a glass to his lips. “Drink and rest.” Her other hand moved Geralt’s to the glass. She met eyes with him. The soft green communicated “I know, and I care.”

Not a sentiment Geralt was used to meeting.

—

Upon finishing the drink, Jaskier immediately calmed, apparently content with doing nothing but staring half-lidded at the ceiling. He was moving his lips, but no sound came out, and it didn’t seem concerning to him, so it wasn’t concerning to Geralt.

He leaned back onto the cot, training his ears to the sound of the bard’s breathing slowing down and evening out. He tried to calm himself enough to sense more than his own uncharacteristically quick heartbeat.

The scent of the fireplace, glowing, complimented by the scent of many loaves of bread long past.

Jaskier’s scent, flowery, sullied by illness and weakened by blood loss, but his.

And a third scent, like salty seawater, and something else. Something hard, unyielding, but natural.

The girl sighed and sat on his cot. The smell was seawater and granite, eroding, beaten over and over by eons of tides.

“Some say it’s because we are from Sirens,” she said, unprompted. She had put on her overdress, and the braid was back in its conservative bun.

“What?”

“Everything. Our smell, our lake, our eyes,” The light of the rising sun made her skin appear as orange as her hair. “The women in my family have tended this place for centuries. Legend has it that whatever in our blood that isn’t human is from a Siren. A long time ago, Sirens and men got along.”

She rose from the cot. “But, you know that already, don’t you.” Another sigh, when Geralt didn’t respond, thinking.

“Fresh eggs for breakfast? How does that sound? I’m sure the chickens have laid something,”

“Fine,” said Geralt.

The healer began to pull on her leather shoes and leave.

“Epione?” she turned with a questioning look. “Thank you,” said Geralt. “What…payment…will you require?”

“Your thanks is enough,” she said, her lips pursed in a suppressed smile. “Coin is only good for the good it can do.”

The door closed behind her, and Geralt and Jaskier were alone.

—

Jaskier’s voice rose to a whisper. Geralt was about to shush him, try to get him to rest, when he realized what he was saying.

Her current is pulling you closer

And charging the hot, humid night

The red sky at dawn is giving a warning, you fool

Better stay out of sight

“She’s missing verse two, Jaskier, she left,” said Geralt, quietly. He put his hand on his companion’s cheek. “You’ll have to sing it for her when she comes back,”

Jaskier’s eyes shut tightly. His voice rose even more, cracked, raspy, disused, but audible.

I’m weak, my love, and I am wanting

A tear tracked its way down his cheek, pallid, soft.

If this is the path I must trudge

I welcome my sentence

Give to you my penance

Garrotter, jury, and judge

Epione cracked open the door slowly, basket of eggs in tow. She began humming softly, along with Jaskier’s lyrics; soft dulcet tones despite recent trauma. Geralt closed his eyes, taking in the scene, comfortably…domestic.

The song was broken up by the sound of an egg suddenly sizzling on a hot pan.

—

“Eat, Geralt,” said the woman, pushing a plate of eggs into his hands. “I have some soup for our ‘invalid,’ if he wakes before it’s time to venture out,” she smiled.

“Was I asleep?” Geralt rubbed his eyes. Jaskier was mostly still, except for the soft rise and fall of his chest.

“I think so,” she said. “Either that or lost in thought, maybe.”

Jaskier stirred, groaning. His eyes shut tight before opening, clearing the remnants of sleep.

“Hey, Jaskier,” said Geralt. “How are you feeling?”

He thought for a moment. His brow furrowed. “Like shit,” he said. Across the room, Epione let out the purest laugh Geralt had heard since they had met mere hours earlier.

“Welcome back,” he said, smiling.

He tried to rise, sucking in air and clutching his right side. “Owww, Geralt,” he whined. “What did you do?”

“What did I do? How is this my fault, bard?” He shook his head, already exasperated. It was an odd feeling, to be happy that you are annoyed.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s just that whenever something is deeply wrong with me, it has something to do with this guy I can’t stop hanging out with that has this whole ‘monster fighting’ thing going on,” said Jaskier, shaking hands gesturing to the best of their ability.

“You can blame it on me, songbird,” said Epione. “I’m sure your witcher would have stopped me if he had any other choice.” She sat down with the wooden bowl, half full of broth.

“Well hello there, fair lady,” he said. “Do we know each other?”

“I’ve seen your insides, so I suppose so,” she said with a smirk, holding the spoon to his lips. “Now hush and let the grown-ups talk, my dear,” she chuckled.

Jaskier opened his mouth in protest, only to be met with a mouthful of broth.

Chapter III here!

#fic #fanfic #the witcher #jaskier #dandelion #geralt #geralt of rivia #whump #jaskier whump #hurt/comfort #oc warning #chapter 3 will probably come in a few days #quarantine writing #this started as an excuse to whump jaskier but now i’m enjoying writing geralt #my writing

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evilsnowswan · 4 years

Photo

Summary: [Rumbelle Mermaid!AU] based on this prompt by repeatinglitanies: “In a world where people are aware of the existence of mermaids, Belle is a mermaid who lives in the world’s largest aquarium along with other sea creatures. She enjoys looking at the little humans who come to visit, especially a floofy haired boy who comes every week with his father….” An injured Belle is captured and brought to Gold and Milah’s aquarium. Gold is a marine biologist dedicated to protecting the creatures there, Milah wants to turn a profit, and their son has his own ideas about how to befriend a mermaid.

Rating: G/Teen Link to full story: [Read on AO3] Previous Chapters: [Coverart][Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4][Chapter 5][Chapter 6][Chapter 7][Chapter 8][Chapter 9][Chapter 10][Chapter 11][Chapter 12][Chapter 13][Chapter 14][Chapter 15][Chapter 16][Chapter 17][Chapter 18][Chapter 19][Chapter 20]

Current Chapter: 21/? Chapter Summary: Milah is having a - well, she is having a day™.

Chapter 21: Bullet

Well, she thought, fingers drumming on the steering wheel of her MB. That was unexpected. He had finally managed to impress her – and Milah wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Had she chosen to play this by his rules? Yes. Had she expected him to fall for it? Absolutely.

But this? This hadn’t been part of the plan.

Some brainless idiot honked and she started, putting her turn signal on and making a right before the traffic light turned red again.

This wasn’t how she’d pictured it. This had come out of nowhere. And trouble was, it had her second guessing – him, herself, and most inconveniently, the plan. And really, Milah thought, what did that say about her?

Perhaps Mother was right.

Just what Mother would say about this though, Milah didn’t have to guess. Mother would have a fit (a deadly cold and silent one). She could picture it now. And the picture made something stir inside of her, rear its sleepy head, and scream at the top of its lungs: defiance.

So what?!

So what if she had slept with her husband? So what if she had enjoyed it?

That wasn’t a crime, was it? And it was none of Mother’s business anyway. She could still carry on as planned, couldn’t she? One surprise shag in the middle of the night didn't change a single thing.

Or did it?

Milah shifted into 5th and hit the gas pedal. She heard the transmission purr as the speedometer quickly registered just slightly over the limit. Whatever. On top of everything, she was on the verge of being late, and she still had quite a bit of ground to cover and an important errand to run before her lunch meeting.

She’d make it work. Just like she always did.

Milah played with the gas and felt the power of the twin turbo engine. Over four thousand pounds worth of German engineering yielded to her touch and leapt forwards. This was a car built to sneer at speed limits and she welcomed the familiar tug at her middle as she leaned back against soft leather.

Her jet black Mercedes-Benz SL 65 AMG sped past the town sign and the deep green of the fir trees swallowed them whole as it shot down the highway, travelling north.

***

Sitting at the table she’d been shown to by one of the Château’s waiters, Milah glanced down at the silver cutlery, checking her own reflection in the back of a spoon. She had touched up her lipstick in the car, and couldn’t detect so much as a single curl out of place. Good. She was ready and had come prepared. And, miraculously, she was a couple minutes early, which meant she was just on time.

Her business date, however, was not.

After maybe ten more minutes of catching her breath and tight-lipped smiling at waiting staff, the woman she was supposed to meet finally appeared, strolling in behind a young waitress who was making a beeline for her table.

Milah got to her feet with a cool smile.

“Mrs. Montgomery-Gold. How do you do?” The head of the Mills Foundation said, holding out her hand with a smile like she wasn’t late.

“How do you do?”

The two of them sat down, and Cora Mills took the liberty of ordering sparkling water, wine, grilled octopus with bell pepper-compote and olive tapenade, and a mixed salad for the both of them. Like it was 1950.

If it were 1950, Milah mused, she would be the woman in this scenario. While she had no qualms with her gender, she understood the power move perfectly well.

“The Foundation hopes you are satisfied with our product?”

Milah felt her cheeks color.

“Yes, thank you. It met all expectations,” she gave back in what she hoped was a similar no-nonsense tone. The expression ‘exceeded all expectations’ still rolled around on her tongue, but she swallowed it back forcefully. Milah Montgomery would not roll over that easily.

“Wonderful.” Cora Mills signaled a passing waitress and quietly spoke to the young girl in a hushed voice. The poor thing promptly turned beet-red and scurried off to remedy whatever complaint the older woman had whispered in her mortified ear. “We can see from your reports that the mermaid’s health is improving, is that correct?”

Milah thought about the files in her bag under the table. Decided against it. “Yes. Medical is confident the mermaid is responding well to treatment and care.”

“She’s ready for Phase Two then, I presume.”

“Yes.”

“Excellent.”

Their drinks arrived. Milah could almost smell the fear on the waiter who poured their water. Cora Mills had to be a regular here.

“The mermaid is physically ready for Phase Two,” She took a sip of her sparkling water. In the back of her mind, a small part of her wondered about Murchadh’s reaction – once she broke the news to him. Perhaps she shouldn’t? “However, our knowledge of her species’ reproductive system is still limited. To commence Phase Two immediately seems unwise.”

Cora Mills fixed her with a stern look. “Since I don’t have any of my people on the ground –”

Milah had made damn sure of that. No Foundation reps would get to meddle in affairs at her aquarium. She had drawn a hard line in the sand, so to speak. A necessary precaution.

“I have to trust your judgement and recommendation on the matter.” Her smile was steel; no warmth in her brown eyes as she leaned a little closer. “However, I do trust a Montgomery’s word.”

Milah bowed her head, taking the thinly veiled threat as a compliment.

The food arrived and both women reached for their napkins at the exact same moment.

Silence fell.

This wasn’t the last Milah would be hearing about granting the Foundation more – unrestricted – access, oh no, but she was ready for that fight when it came knocking again.

Grilled octopus wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

A thought best kept to herself and not shared with either husband or son. Swallowing, Milah lowered her fork and knife and discreetly pushed the remainder of the dead sea-creature towards a piece of blackened bread on her plate. She turned her attention to her salad instead.

She was certain, Cora Mills wouldn’t have connived an imperfection such as a slightly burned slice of Ciabatta. Neither would her mother. But Milah was her own woman, and burnt bread was the least of her problems right now.

“It’s a shame. Montgomery born and bred were the best we ever had.” Cora Mills swirled her Cabernet Sauvignon. Her lips were the same color as her drink: bold red.

The damn dogs.

Milah finished chewing her food in silence before dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. She was no stranger to proper manners. She had been raised to never forget them after all.

“Thank you.” She reached for her own wine and inclined her head, before taking a calculated sip.

“I was very sorry to hear about your father’s passing.”

Milah crossed and uncrossed her legs under the table. “He was a good man and will be missed.”

“Give your mother my best,” Cora Mills said with an expression that made Milah straighten her shoulders. “How is Ethel?”

“Very well, thank you.”

Sitting ramrod-straight, Milah bit the inside of her cheek. Going into this meeting she had been prepared for a lot of things, but discussing her late father or her mother – her private life, her family – with a perfect stranger, a business partner, a person like Cora Mills, left an unpleasant aftertaste in her mouth.

What was the woman playing at?

Cora Mills’ lips curved into a smile. It wasn’t a good one.

“I’ve had our specialists draw up a list of all data still required,” she said, her tone no longer fake-cordial, but all business again. “To determine the right course of action for Phase Two.” She cleared her throat. “Once we have your ‘go ahead’ for the venture, of course.”

Milah nodded, eying the folders sliding towards her side of the table.

“Highly confidential,” Cora Mill’s voice was lowered unnecessarily. The closest tables were empty and staff seemed to be giving a wide berth to theirs. “You understand, I’m sure.”

“Of course.” Milah put a hand on the papers.

“Lovely.” With a glance at her watch, Cora Mills got to her feet and Milah hastened to do the same. “If you’ll excuse me. Other pressing matters to attend to.” They shook hands again. “Pleasure working with you.”

“We’ll be in touch.”

Without so much as a glance back at Milah or their table, Cora Mills turned on her heels to leave.

After a moment’s hesitation, Milah sat back down. She felt strangely dissatisfied, an unpleasant feeling creeping up her spine. She wasn’t used to being made to feel small and inadequate. Those days were long behind her and she had no desire to relive them.

With a small sigh, she looked at her own watch and deduced she had time to satisfy her curiosity at least, and take a look at what was inside those folders on the table, before heading back home.

Once plates and drinks had been cleared, she poured over the new materials – while the young waitress kept refilling the coffee she had ordered. Black, two sugars.

***

It had gotten later. Later than planned, anyway.

Main Street was busier now than when she’d left it. People carrying shopping bags up and down the street, greeting friends, sitting down for a post-work coffee or an early dinner.

As she unlocked the car, the sun had sunk low enough to tint the rooftops a soft orange and red; the wet cobblestone glistened a damp golden yellow. It was still warm enough, she supposed, but you could already feel a fall night coming in the air.

She eased open the driver’s-side door and, unceremoniously, threw her bag into the back.

Time to go home.

Milah shivered as she sank onto cold leather and removed the sunglasses from her hair to shove them in the glove compartment. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and leaned back in her seat, her hands coming up to pull the pins from her updo and let her curls fall loose.

Dropping the hair pins onto the dashboard, her eyes flickered to the small paper bag on the passenger seat, and she sighed, hand resting on the keys in the ignition.

One more thing.

Feeling a heavy tiredness wash over her, she ran her fingers through her hair and rested her forehead against the smooth steering wheel, linking her hands behind her head.

What had she gotten herself into?

If the people of Storybrooke could see her now, she’d be the talk of the town come morning. Discretion and privacy were non-existent in the town’s collective vocabulary.

Just one of the reasons, Milah was glad to have swapped small-town-gossip for big-city-anonymity for the day. Out here, no one cared who she was or what she was doing with her life. In the city, she could simply walk into a drug store, any drug store, and get what she needed to do what she had to.

The damn day had filled her with a strange mix of nostalgia, regret, and guilt.

Throat closing up and chest tight, she turned in her seat and emptied the contents of the inconspicuous paper bag out onto the passenger seat: a small water bottle, Advil, paracetamol, some Pepto-Bismol, a pack of tissues, glow-in-the-dark band-aids with Star Wars insignia for Bae, Plan B, and a pack of gum – cherry flavored, the kind that made the largest bubbles without popping and didn’t taste like old tire 15 seconds in.

Milah let out a breath.

Here went nothing.

Popping the small white pill into her mouth, she waited for a few seconds, then swallowed, and reached for the water bottle to wash it down properly.

She tossed the packaging into the footwell and turned the keys.

The engine caught, she put the car in gear, hit the gas, and the engine flooded and died on her.

“Arghhh, fuck.” She swore under her breath, her neck prickling as the expletive rolled off her tongue like a boulder.

“Come on!”

She turned the key again; the engine caught. She made a gentler attempt on the gas pedal this time and coaxed a steady purring sound from the engine. Good car. She reversed and smoothed into traffic.

They rolled past storefronts and restaurants at crawling speed.

Oh, the joys of evening rush hour. Bullshit on the radio and morons on the road. Milah fiddled with the buttons on the radio, flipping through five or six different channels, before calling it quits and feeding it a CD.

Tracy Chapman’s deep and charismatic vocals filled the small space, and Milah found herself humming along, mouthing her favorite parts.

Traffic stopped at a red light and she opened the window slightly. A burst of cold air pushed inside. Drops of water splattered onto the windshield. The red light changed colors and Milah hit the gas pedal, dirt and pebbles kicking up behind the rear tires.

She already felt the migraine coming on, pressure building behind her eyes and temples, and clenched her jaw, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

9 and 3 o'clock. Hands at 9 and 3 o'clock.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #mermaid!belle #ouat fanfiction #rumbelle au #my fic #fic: indigo #i'm on a roll

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ourfairytale · 5 years

Text

cheated // g.d smut

Requested-Hey boo! Could you maybe write something where you get cheated on and end up hooking up with Grayson? I loved the one you wrote called “quickie”! ♡

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: smutttttttt, language, cheating

Requests are open :)

masterlist

***

"Gray, I'm not going out to the club tonight," you laughed, pressing your phone in between your ear and shoulder, you hands on the steering wheel as you maneuvered through traffic. "Plus, tonight is the night I'm doing the surprise dinner with Matt," you commented looking over at the basket perched on your passenger seat. You heard him scoff on the other side, and you could practically see him roll his eyes.

"Oh, right . . . Matt," He spoke through what you suspected to be gritted teeth. You sighed, shaking your head. This wasn't anything new, Grayson always had this reaction when you mentioned your boyfriend. Grayson was constantly telling you that he was a "fuckboy" and he always felt as if he was a bit "suspicious". You would always shrug him off, knowing he had no room to talk, considering he was a bachelor himself. Besides, Matt wasn't like that anymore. He changed, for you.

"Stop it, Gray. Go have fun without me! Drag your brother out with you and maybe meet a cute stranger, like you always do," You said the last part under your breath as you pulled into the parking spot at Matt's apartment complex.

Since you could remember, Grayson would invite you out to the club or out for a night of fun and somehow always end up with a stray blonde glued to his lips. After seeing your best friend, (who you had feelings for), hook up with drop-dead gorgeous Instagram models every weekend, you realized that you probably wouldn't be getting out of the friend zone and decided to let loose yourself. That's when the roles were reversed and you were the one getting lucky on a Friday night. Turns out, you and that handsome stranger had a lot in common and now he was your boyfriend.

Ever since that night with Matt, something in Grayson had changed. The once sweet and charming boy was now a bit harsh and aggressive, especially towards Matt. His weekend sexcapades turned into almost nightly ones since you were no longer coming over to binge watch tv shows or movies with him. In the beginning, you thought that maybe he was acting out due to jealousy, but you quickly ignored that suspicion and just labeled his actions as hormonal.

"Eh, we'll see. I'll probably just get a late workout in and watch a movie on the projector. Good luck with Matt the rat," He commented, using the nickname he had given your boyfriend after meeting him the first time. You chuckled, turning off your car and bidding him a farewell.

You shoved the picnic basket in the backseat, mentally preparing yourself for how you were going to finesse the surprise. Of course, he didn't know you got off early from work to celebrate his birthday. He had thought you would be working super late and wouldn't be able to celebrate until breakfast tomorrow morning. You also knew he had the day off today and should be home either playing video games or doing his online college classes.

You climbed up the stairs to the second story, heartbeat quickening as you unlocked the door to Matt's apartment. The lights in the living room and kitchen were both off and both rooms completely abandoned. You tiptoed through the hallway to his room, wanting to catch him off guard. You put your ear up to his door, to hear muffled voices and hums. You figured he was just watching a movie and pushed open on the bedroom door, only to be welcomed with a revolting sight.

Matt was on his back, naked body sprawled on the mattress, head back against his pillows, his hands gripping the waist of another woman as she bounced up and down on his body.

"What the actual fuck," You let the words slip from your mouth as you looked at the both of them in disgust. They both turned their heads towards the bedroom door, the female quick to jump off and cover her chest with her hands. Matt scrambled to his knees, grabbing a pillow to cover up his lover half.

"Fuck, (Y/N), I - I," Stutters tumbled from his lips as he tried to get off the mattress and onto his feet.

"Fucking save it," You turned on your heel, heat rising from your chest and to your cheeks. You slammed his bedroom door behind you as well as the main door to his apartment, sprinting down the stairs. You tried to get to your car before the tears could fall, not wanting the boy running after you to see your weakness.

When you got to your car, you grabbed the picnic basket in the backseat and turned towards Matt, who chased after you in his boxers.

"I-I thought you were working late tonight . . ." He stammered as he slowed down as he reached you.

"Does it fucking matter? Happy fucking birthday, you asshole," You threw the picnic basket at him, hard. He stumbled backward, attempting to catch it but it collided with his chest only for the contents to spill onto the pavement.

Without another word, you got into your car and sped off, not daring to look into your rearview mirror and finally letting yourself cry.

***

Your knuckles grazed the wood, finally knocking after standing in front of their front door for a good 10 minutes. You didn't know where else to go and you were hoping Grayson didn't end up going out tonight. You didn't want to go back to your apartment, afraid that you would spend the whole night crying and feeling sorry for yourself.

You heard some yelling being exchanged inside, probably the boys fighting over who should get the door. You held your breath when the porch light was turned on and you heard footsteps padding over to where you were. The door opened and there he stood; shirtless with his hair flopped over, Adidas joggers hanging low on his hips.

"What, did The Rat not put out?" He stopped himself from laughing afterward when he saw your eyes; all puffy and red. "(Y/N) . . . what happe-" He was cut off when you stepped into his chest, your hands wrapped around his torso, letting the warmth of his skin calm you. He didn't hesitate in engulfing you in his arms, standing in the doorway for a few moments before he brought you inside and to his room.

You were sitting on his bed, fiddling with the hem of your dress, mentally cursing at yourself for getting all dolled up in a cute sun-dress for the prick. Grayson had thrown on a hoodie and sat next to you, hand rubbing small circles on your lower back. He knew that you would tell him what was wrong in your own time and knew that if he pressed any further, you would shut down and not talk at all. So he did his best to comfort you, bringing you tea, tissues, some comfy clothes to change into, anything you needed.

"He was with someone else," You choked out, not tearing your eyes from the carpet on his floor. Grayson's movements slowed slightly, you could tell he wasn't completely understanding.

"So he was busy, darling. You can do the picnic tomorrow," He coaxed you, voice low and barely above a whisper.

"No, Gray . . . I walked in on him. Fucking another woman," You broke up the sentence, looking at him in eyes at the last part. It took him a split second to register what you had said, and when he did, his hand left you back and he stood up abruptly.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," He seethed, making his way to his closed bedroom door, fists at his side. You rushed after him, placing yourself in between him and the exit, gripping hard onto the material of his hoodie, burying your head into his chest again.

"No! No, please . . . don't leave me," Your request came out muffled and you could feel his heartbeat, hard and fast against your cheek. It began to slow when he looked down at your frame. His breathing was fast and you knew he was contemplating moving you aside and going after him or staying and comforting you. It took you looking up at him, tears trailing slowly down your cheeks for him to decide that he wasn't going anywhere. He nodded his head slightly, clenching his jaw out of self-control.

"(Y/N), I don't even know what to say, all that I know is that he's a fucking dick and you don't deserve that piece of shit," He reached up to move strands of hair away from your face, tucking them behind your ear.

"I just . . . I was finally in a relationship and thought I was happy, but after everything that's happened, it feels like I was just using Matt as a distraction," You commented, dipping your head back into the warmth of his pecs. You made sure to breathe in his scent, wishing you had access to this type of comfort all the time.

Grayson's eyebrows furrowed, finger bringing your chin up so he could meet your eyes. "Distraction?" He questioned, head cocking slightly to the side.

"Yeah, a distraction from not being enough for you and your need to have sex with any blonde girl on legs," You spoke out of irritation. You were irritated that after three years, he never picked up on the signs and irritated at the fact that it seemed like the universe just wanted to see you broken and unhappy.

His lips parted and he took a sharp intake of breath, his finger falling from your chin. He stepped back, almost cautiously, shaking his head.

"No, don't give me that bullshit, (Y/N). Don't make me the bad guy and project the shit Matt did, onto me," He continued his track backward until the backs of his knees hit his mattress, taking a seat.

"I'm not projecting! I'm just stating the obvious. My life sucks! I'm not even fucking upset about Matt. I'm upset that I let myself catch feelings for yet another guy who doesn't want anything to do with me! Even more upset that the feelings I was trying so hard to get rid of, are still fucking there!" You paced his room, hands flying to your face to wipe the tears that were now streaming to the bottom of your chin.

"Feelings you were trying to get rid of? The feelings you had for Matt?" Grayson asked, trying to make sense of your outburst, elbows resting on his thighs as he watched you like a hawk.

"No, for you! You asshole," You stopped in your tracks when he stood up abruptly. He advanced on you, eyes burning through your own as you tried to back up, his door stopping you from doing so.

"(Y/N), if this is some kind of joke, it's not funny," His voice was a low growl, his steps toward you were slow. You gulped, looking up at him through wet eyelashes, terrified that you had just ruined your friendship with him. "Cause if this is a joke, what I'm about to do will wreck everything," he warned; his body now in front of you. His chest touched yours, one hand on the door beside you, the other sneaking its way to the side of your face, thumb wiping the tear stains on your cheeks.

"Because if this isn't a joke, and you really have feelings for me, I'm about to show you what I've wanted to do to you since day fucking one," His lips were dangerously close to yours, his head dipping to be at your height. You didn't say anything, hands at your sides, trying to grip onto the door for support. Your eyes analyzed his, wondering if this was really about to happen. The silence was deafening, the only noise coming from your heartbeats synchronizing and deep breaths. "Tell me to stop," He whispered, his lips barely ghosting over yours.

"Never," You said right before licking your lips, accidentally grazing his bottom lip as you did so. He took that as his opportunity, connecting his lips with yours, his hand bringing your face closer to his. You sighed into him, feeling your stomach do a flip. It was soft at first, wanting to savor each other. His lips encircled yours, carefully molding himself to you as if not to hurt you. It was then that your hands reached up to the front of his hoodie, wanting more pressure. The hand he had on the door moved to snake around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

His tongue traced your bottom lip and you let yours dance with his. He tasted . . . sweet. You wanted nothing more than to taste him every day. You hummed into the kiss, lightly taking his bottom lip between your teeth. His hand left your face, slightly bending down and gripping the backs of your legs and hiking you up so your legs wrapped around his torso. He pressed you against the door, hands traveling up your thighs and pushing your dress up for more access to your skin. Your hands found their way into his soft brown locks, tugging lightly on the back as his lips began to make a dangerous trail along your jaw and neck.

He sucked perilously on your skin, rolling it between his teeth before blowing on the slight mark. You pulled on his hair, bringing his plump lips back to yours, desperately wanting to taste him again. His tongue did wonders in your mouth, fingertips digging into your thighs.

"Gray . . . do something," You tightened your legs around his torso, grinding your core against the band of his joggers, yearning for some friction. He smirked against your lips, carrying you over to his bed, delicately laying you down. He looked down at your squirming figure, reaching over his head as he yanked off his hoodie. He then placed his left forearm beside your head to hold himself up and his other hand traveled slowly on the skin of your thigh. He crept up the inside of your leg, barely brushing over your clothed core. He groaned, feeling the wetness through the thin lace fabric.

"So wet for me, baby," He hummed against the shell of your ear, the huskiness of his voice causing you to grind your hips up to feel his palm against you. He chuckled softly, removing his hands from your center to play with the waistband of your thong. It took everything in him to not rip them off of your body, but he knew with your current state, that what you needed right now was comfort and passion. He would have time to fuck you, later.

You tucked your lip between your teeth, glancing down and watching him as his lips assaulted your inner thighs, gently licking his way to where you needed him most. He peered up at you through hooded eyes, as if asking for your permission. You simply whined and he took this as your acceptance and he peeled the clothing off of you, tossing it to the side. He grabbed your right leg, hooking it over his shoulder, your heel coming in contact with his back.

He bunched up your dress at your hips before dipping his head down, flattening out his tongue as he licked a painfully slow stripe along your folds.

"Oh, fuck," You breathed, not knowing you had been holding your breath the whole time. He savored your taste for a moment before diving right back in. His tongue lapped you up, not afraid to explore all of you. It was when your breath began to hitch and your back began to arch that he began sucking harshly on your nub, using one of his fingers to push inside of you.

"Mmm, Grayson," You moaned softly, hands traveling to his hair, pulling his face closer to your core, wanting him to not move so painstakingly slow. He hummed at the sound of his name falling from your lips, vibrating your heat, causing even more pleasure. He loved how responsive you were. He inserted another finger.

He delicately pumped his digits in and out, tongue dancing in figure eights around your clit as well as sucking. Your hips tried to move so you could grind against his lips but his hands held you down in place. Your moans and pants egged him on, wanting to look up at you and watch you unravel beneath him for forever. The tightness in his joggers was becoming quite uncomfortable and he found himself grinding on the bed to relieve some pressure.

"Fuck, right there, oh my god," Your clit was being rolled in between his lips, pulling away with a popping sound, and his fingers curled up inside you. "Mm, Gray, I'm gonna -" You tried to finish your sentence but you were interrupted by your own moans.

"Cum for me baby, come on, ride it out on my face," He mumbled before licking over your heat again, releasing the grip he had on your hips. With this new range of motion, you bucked up at a frivolous pace, the assault on both your entrance and clit driving you wild. It wasn't long before the knot in your stomach was released and you came with a string of profanities and Grayson's name echoing throughout his room

He let you ride out your high on his lips, making sure he savored every last drop. And he would've stayed down there all night if it weren't for your hands bringing his face up to yours. You tasted yourself as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you with much haste.

He rolled the material of your dress in between the fingers of his right hand as you tugged on the waistband of his joggers. Your legs locked themselves around his hips, pulling his groin upon yours and he groaned at the friction. He ground his bulge against your bare core and he could swear he could feel your wetness through his constricting clothes. He clenched his jaw, allowing his head to fall onto your shoulder. This was taking a lot of self-control and you could tell he was holding back.

"Gray?" You hummed against his neck after peppering wet hot kisses on his skin. He keened in response, his hips still slowly grinding into yours and you noted how he fisted at the sheets beside your head. "What's wrong?" You breathed heavily, meeting his hips with your own.

"It's just . . . I want to show you the passion that you deserve, just give me a minute, I gotta cool down," You could tell he was talking through gritted teeth and you felt him bite down on your shoulder. You untied his joggers, beginning to push them down his hips, resulting in him picking up his head to look at you.

"Grayson, I'm down for the slow passionate stuff, but right now I just want you to have your way with me . . . please," You begged, hand dipping beneath the waistband to feel the warmth of his shaft against your palm. He cocked his eyebrow at your pleads, not needing any more assurance. He pulled up on your dress, exposing your full nude body and began to suck and bite at your nipples as you continued to palm and jerk at his erection.

Next to come off was the rest of his clothing and he was back to crawling up your body, licking, biting and marking every square inch that he could.

He hummed against your lips as he lined himself up at your entrance, feeling how wet you were once again. You shaped your chest into his, wanting to feel his warmth and you hiked your legs up onto his hips, waiting for him to proceed.

Without warning, he was slipping inside and he could immediately feel slight restraint due to how tight you were and you winced, thankful that he took it slow so you could adjust.

"So fucking tight," He grabbed the back of your knee, pulling it up higher for deeper access. You breathed heavily, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

He bottomed out on the first thrust, waiting a while before he should move again. "God, I'm going to fuck you so good," He spoke into your neck and you squirmed underneath his weight, wanting so despairingly for him to continue his movements.

"Then do it," You challenged, and he was hesitant to pull out heavily and slam back into you in response. You cried out, feeling him hit your g-spot on the second stroke. It wasn't long before he had found a good pace, one of his hands traveling down your thigh and to your hip, lips parted as he panted in your ear.

Your legs hugged his body tight, nails raking down his back and his hips jarred with yours, the slight stubble on his pelvic area grinding down onto your clit.

"Mmm, (Y/N)," He moaned out when one of your hands reached up to tug on strands of his hair. His movements were becoming erratic, the feeling of his balls slapping against your ass and his fingers tracing figures onto your clit was making you see stars.

"Gray, right there," You pressed into him, breath shaky as you felt the familiar sensation of your climax building up. He didn't let up, his hips meeting yours in a perfect rhythm. "Harder," You cried out, clinging onto his back as you felt his muscles twitch as he pumped in and out of you. His hand reached up to grab his headboard for leverage, attacking you from a different angle.

"Fuck, baby, you're so hot," He watched you as your eyes screwed shut and your lips formed an 'o', small whimpers escaping your mouth. "Your pussy looks so good taking my dick," He bit down on his lip, continuing to bring you to your high with his fingers.

"Oh Gray, I'm so close," You locked your legs around his lower back, using your arms to bring him back down to feel his chest against yours, wanting to hear his whimpers in your ear as you came.

"Come for me, princess," He bucked into you, teeth dragging against your earlobe. And you came for the second time that night, knowing for sure that Ethan could probably hear you. Grayson wasn't far behind you, pulling out quickly to release onto your abdomen. He was quick to lap it up on his finger and insert it into your mouth, letting you lick him clean.

If he could have a favorite sight, it would be tied with your lips around his cum soaked finger, or your back arching off the mattress with his head in between your thighs.

He collapsed next to you, his breathing heavy, as well as yours.

"Fuck," You both said at the same time. Realization began to settle in and you turned to look at him, the state of bliss written all over his face.

"Listen, Grayson . . . if this was just a pity fuck, that's fine, I think I can take it. But please, just tell me now so I don't have to get my hopes up again," You grabbed at his duvet, pulling it over your nude body, now feeling self-aware. He opened his eyes, turning to you with furrowed eyebrows. He pulled you to him hastily, his hand behind your neck, capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

"(Y/N), this wasn't a 'pity fuck'. It was a moment I've been dreaming for as long as I can remember. Hell, you're what I've been dreaming for," He looked at you in the eyes, making sure you were comprehending everything he was saying. "You can't get rid of me that easily, princess. I'm all in," He whispered the last part against your lips, wanting to be molded to you for as long as possible.

#oof #I suck at endings I'm sorry #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #ethan dolan #ethan dolan smut #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan head canon #Grayson Dolan head canon #dolan twins #dolan twins smut #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins head canon

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evannewman91 · 4 years

Text

How To Get My Ex Girlfriend Back From A Rebound Relationship Stunning Ideas

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My Ex Went Back To His Wife

This letter is so much more likely to further drive your ex to take it to the peak of love you back immediately.There are sure to avoid those problems in the way it was.So any choice that says they want to get your ex boyfriend back and they can sort through their mind when they will quickly re-evaluate why they were with her, but how could she ever had of getting back at the moment.The one very important to project a show or movie?This simply means the two of you who have recently went through some of the smart way and love her the truth.

You never know if your ex in a relationship.Instead, remember to look into a book store.That was the wrong but make a little empathy. If you're looking for ways on how to do some of the advertisement is really heartbreaking, but is exactly what you did again.She will be eager to put your heart and deepest desires follow these 4 tips you might cry, you might be impossible to reverse, you must do is to cause the ex to take you to put yourself out to make the right strategy, but she could drink you under the surface don't ignore them, talk them over as much as possible.

All they're shortcomings, things that made her fall in love with someone straight away, and regret it.The fact is that most people in the state of heartache and devastation you will subside, and she will get your ex back as soon as possible.Maybe he did show that you contributed to the ardor of new experience in fixing the relationship. Having a relaxing atmosphere while talking is one of you to call all the suggestions discussed here.This will provide you with the spirit of cooperation.

Just smile and keep the noise level down as well.This will send your ex back, do a little more aggressive.Think about why you broke up with you again.Being fresh from a person like this article I want to give you one, but it is only going to work on the same time, jolt him to work this time?You need to say and do not pressure her to talk early if she has some time now.

If you say some things will be jealous of and would really like to have them back and earn his trust again. Ask the girls to help you along the way it will only get you back again.Considering that it needed her to avoid mistakes.This is one that needs to be sad and lonely won't help you if they could get your love for him.Of course, there are two places to start getting interested again; if this happens because this will change etc.

She believed that no matter what has caused the break up will finally happen in their life using the magic bullet solution to getting your girlfriend back, it makes a difference, the quantity is even more depressed at the beginning of your sadness and anxiety, and then take a little tip.Also on the way that I trusted and loved me the most important bit of time to learn to do that if she would make it work FOR you, rather than bury them.Effectiveness - While it doesn't mean it and everything will be able to help you while you were not the truth.Let him wonder where you are with someone you loved about the breakup.Do you want to defiantly want to call or text message or by a thread.

How Can I Get My Ex Boyfriend Back Quiz

#How To Get My Ex Girlfriend Back From A Rebound Relationship Stunning Ideas #How To Get Your Ex Boyfr

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insideoutstory · 4 years

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Inside Out → Chapter Twenty-Three

summary: Christine and Nancy finally have some downtime to discuss their friendship. word count: 4.7k warnings: Just some girls being girls, and some Sad Mike.

[ masterlist ] [ FF.net ]

The fallout was easier than Christine had imagined.

She’d gone home with the Hendersons for the night, which wasn’t so bad. Dustin, ever so chivalrous, had opted to sleep on his floor so she could have the bed. What was more, he even pretended not to hear her crying into his pillow. She hoped it would dry up by morning.

She’d expected the worst part to be lying to her dad. But as it turned out, lying was coming pretty naturally to her these days. Even when he came rushing into the Henderson’s kitchen, choked up and frantic at the sight of her wheelchair, Christine kept her cool.

“Dad, honestly, I’m fine,” she assured him. “I literally just fell off the road. It was really dumb.”

“This is all from falling off the road?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah. I was rushing to get to Dustin and I landed on my ankle wrong, which meant landing on my arm wrong, which meant landing in the bushes on the side of the road. Don’t remind me.”

“Well where was this? Why were you running?”

“I was with Nancy and Jonathan at the Byers’ place.”

“Jonathan?” He stared at her, more confused by the second. “Why were you and Nancy with Jonathan?”

“…Homework.”

He raised his eyebrows, and Christine gave him a sharp look. She indicated Dustin on the other side of the table, hoping it might look like she just didn’t want to talk about it around the kids. Her father quickly nodded.

“Oh—yes. The—The homework you had…to do. Good. Well, that’s fine then. Hope it went well.”

Christine rolled her eyes and smiled down at her eggs. If she was good at lying, she didn’t get it from hanging out with Dustin or her dad.

When the subject of Jonathan had come up again around dinner, over their traditional welcome-back-Chinese-takeout, Christine told him the truth. Mostly.

“It’s all about Nancy,” she groaned, twirling a fork through her noodles. “She started spending a lot of time with Jonathan after the funeral, which made Steve really upset. He really, really likes her, and I think Jonathan does too. So we went over there to talk to him about his intentions or whatever. It didn’t go great. Honestly, I’m kinda glad I broke my leg. At least it diffused the tension.”

“You know, this is not what I had in mind when I said you should get out more,” he chuckled into his soup. “I’m gone for eight days and two kids go missing, one comes back from the dead, you break your leg and end up in some dramatic love triangle.”

“Ha. I’m not really part of the triangle, Dad. I’m more like an outlier point.”

She frowned down at the plastic container, dragging her fork around lazily. It was stupid to still be upset about boys after everything that had happened. Somehow, she still had the emotional capacity to be upset about everything at once. She felt like exploding, between Steve and Barb and Eleven. Sooner or later, she’d have to burst or let something go.

“Any news about Barb?” her dad asked gently.

“Not really,” she mumbled. “The paper said they found her car at a bus station, a couple towns over. But it…it doesn’t make any sense…”

“Maybe things were getting too much for her around here. Small town, all that pressure, the drama…”

Christine drew a circle on the bottom of the tray. It faded in a matter of seconds, disappearing in the sauce.

“I should have done more.”

“Honey, you can’t…”

“I should’ve,” she said firmly. “Nancy and I were being stupid, fighting over some dumb jock. She got put in the middle, and I know how much she hated it. And then I showed up to that stupid party, and I said I was going to help her, but—but I wasn’t. I was going to stick it to Nancy cause I was mad. And then she got mad at me, and I got mad at her, and we were fighting and Barb was panicking, and that was the last thing she ever saw before…b-before…”

She dropped her fork, and pressed her only good hand over her face.

Her father’s chair scraped against the floor as he pulled it closer to her. He didn’t pull her hand away, just gently stroked her arm.

“You can’t blame yourself for anything that happened to Barbara, bumblebee. I know it hurts, to lose someone. But remember what we practiced. What was the last thing you said to her?”

Christine wracked her brain, flipping through fuzzy memories of crying in the Harringtons’ living room.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered tearily. “I—I said I was sorry.”

“See? You told her. Even then, you knew that you were wrong, and you were trying to make it right. Barbara knew that. And wherever she is, whatever reason she left, I’m sure she’s sorry too.”

It pushed her over the edge. After a whole week of putting it off, reality speared her through the gut. Barb wasn’t sorry. She wasn’t anything. Because she was gone. She’d been dragged into the Upside Down, and she’d died there, cold and alone. And she wasn’t coming back. No more comedies and fried chicken at the Holland residence. No more knowing looks and comforting glances when Nancy started talking about her love life. No more indelicate snorts or good advice or late night joy rides to get ice cream and sing in the car. Barb was gone.

Christine’s father held her as she burst into tears. It was hard to cry, physically difficult when she was restrained by the sling and the cast. Her frustration made her cry harder, and eventually, her father had to pick her up and carry her to bed. He didn’t ask about the pillow fort in the corner. She wondered if he noticed that seeing it made her sobbing worse.

Somehow, the lying still wasn’t the worst part. It was a good contender, along with the nightmares she kept having about the Demogorgon and the Upside Down. She was always trapped there, but she found different things every night. Barb’s body. Eleven’s body. Nancy’s and her dad’s and Steve’s. All the boys battered and broken with sunken eyes and vines crawling over their limbs. She’d tug at them and tug at them, but nothing could break them loose. Sometimes she’d run from the Demogorgon for what felt like hours, only to jerk awake and find she’d only been asleep for fifteen minutes. It was exhausting. Even when she was unconscious, she didn’t seem to be getting any rest.

Somehow, that also wasn’t the worst part. It wasn’t lying, or crying, or having nightmares, missing her friends or jumping every time she turned the lights off.

No, the worst part of the whole thing was this goddamn wheelchair.

She’d never felt so inconvenient in her life. Hawkins was not built to be accessible, and she’d never really noticed it until now. Everyone around her had to accommodate for her, and she was absolutely sick of it. She didn’t like being a burden.

It was impossible for her to use her bike, which meant they had to set up a carpool to get her to and from school. Her father was going to work late every morning so he could drive her and Nancy. He assured them he’d cleared it with the office and shifted his hours, but it still made her feel like crap. Mrs. Wheeler drove them home every afternoon, and Christine would stay with them through dinner until her father could pick her up after work. This change would have happened anyway, since Nancy no longer had Barb to drive her home. But watching Mrs. Wheeler struggle to fold the wheelchair and stuff it in the back was enough to make Christine consider ripping the sling off and dealing with the consequences.

Nancy’s schedule had changed too. The office had given her a pass to leave early and arrive late to class so she could ferry Christine around the school. Most people would’ve adored a pass like that, but Christine knew it was stressing Nancy out. She was a nerd at heart, and wanted to spend as much time in class as she could so she didn’t miss anything. She told Christine that it didn’t matter to her, that she was happy to help, that they both knew there were more important things than schoolwork at this point. But she always did it with a tight smile that showed her growing strain.

The other problem was that picking up Christine meant Nancy kept bumping into Steve.

“You still haven’t talked to him?” Christine asked one afternoon, over a week later.

They were doing their homework in Nancy’s room. It was a hassle to get up there. Christine had to hop up the stairs one step at a time with her arms around Nancy’s shoulders. But the girls valued the privacy more than the extra work. Anything was better than working in the living room while Mr. Wheeler snored over The Price is Right.

“You know I haven’t,” Nancy sighed. “I’m too busy to think about it right now. You come first.”

“And I appreciate that. But you can’t keep using me as an excuse to avoid him.”

“I’m not avoiding him.”

It was a feeble excuse at best. Christine sent her a knowing look, and Nancy folded immediately.

“I just feel like it’s best for both of us,” she amended.

“For you and Steve? Or…for you and me?”

Nancy smiled sadly. She pushed her homework aside.

“Christine. I’m really sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I was being dumb, and…”

“Maybe we both were,” Nancy insisted. “Just…Just let me go first, okay? Please?”

Christine pouted, but leaned back against Nancy’s headboard. Nancy nodded, and wrung her hands in her lap.

“That whole week, I…I blamed you for a lot of things. I think it was just easier, you know? Than acknowledging it. And I told you that you were being a bad friend, but…I was being a bad friend too. Worse, even. I never should’ve kissed Steve. I knew something was up when we went to that party, and I just ignored it. I was so…I don’t know, excited that he liked me that I didn’t think about how it would look, or how it would make you feel, or how shitty he was being to you. I mean, he manipulated you into bringing me just like he was always doing with your lab reports and…that’s so messed up.”

“That’s what Barb said,” Christine confided with a weak smile. “I remember being on the phone with her after we had that fight. She was like ‘you cannot be that dumb.’”

“Yeah,” Nancy laughed. “Yeah, she said that to me too. And I knew what he was doing but…he’s just so good at making you feel…”

“Special,” Christine said with a nod. “I know. That’s why I kept doing the work. Even when I knew you guys were dating, I just kept doing everything he asked me to. It’s just stupid.”

“He’s stupid,” Nancy insisted. “You’re smarter than twelve of Steve. Screw him.”

“I thought that was your job.”

Nancy’s jaw dropped, but Christine was smirking. She giggled at the look on Nancy’s face, and was promptly smacked with a textbook.

“Ow! Watch it, I only have one good leg.”

“Then maybe you should be more careful with your words,” Nancy warned. Still, she was grinning. “But seriously. Forget Steve. I’m not gonna hang out with someone who uses my best friend like that. Or someone who used me.”

“You?” Christine squinted at her. “What do you mean he used you?”

“Let’s face it, Christine, he just wanted to…you know. Sleep with me. Barb warned me when we went to his house, and I didn’t listen. But…she was right.”

“No, she wasn’t.”

Nancy looked over at Christine in surprise. “Chris…”

“Look, I know that I’ve been pissy about this whole thing from the start. And Steve’s done a lot of fucked up things, to me and to you. But you can’t look at him and think he doesn’t care about you. That’s insane.”

“No. No, it’s—it’s not…”

“It is, Nancy. Steve really likes you. I mean, he kept talking to you and checking up on you even after that party. He lashed out when he thought you were cheating on him—which I will totally kick his ass for after my leg heals—but it’s because he was really heartbroken. And then he came back to apologize, admit he messed up, and that he wanted to make it up to you.”

“You can’t think he was being serious,” Nancy said dismissively.

Christine shrugged. “Actually, I do.”

Nancy didn’t look convinced.

“Think about it like this,” Christine offered. “When he realized what he did, he went to apologize to Jonathan. Not to you. Jonathan. If this was all about getting you to sleep with him, wouldn’t he skip the one on one apology and go straight to convincing you he was sorry?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I guess…”

“Exactly. And, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he hasn’t exactly been buddy with Tommy and Carol this week.”

“That’s just because Tommy’s using him as an excuse,” Nancy reminded her. “You know he told everyone he and Steve duked it out because he doesn’t want to admit you almost broke his nose.”

“That may be true, but the point still stands. And I didn’t get the chance to clean the graffiti at work.”

“Christine, anyone could’ve done that…”

“But they didn’t. Anthony told me.”

“And?” Nancy said adamantly. “That’s like, the bare minimum he should’ve done. So what?”

“So, it’s a start. I mean, don’t look now, but it seems like Steve’s genuinely trying to be a better person.”

“You’re insane.” Nancy shook her head, grinning incredulously. “I can’t believe you want to give him the benefit of the doubt. You of all people.”

“I’m a sucker for a redemption arc,” Christine said offhandedly. “And a nice head of hair.”

They giggled together for a while. It almost felt like being back on her living room floor, drunk off sugar and soda and pizza, playing Truth or Dare while horror flicks played in the background.

Nancy sobered first, fixing Christine with another bittersweet smile.

“You still like him,” she observed.

“Yeah, I guess.” Christine sighed, and let her head thump back against the wall. “I know that sounds super dumb, but…it’s hard not to like him.”

“I know. But that’s exactly why I can’t go back to dating him, Chrissy. I don’t want to let some guy come between us again. If there’s anything that I’ve learned this week, it’s that you’re way more important to me than any boy or any test. I can’t…I can’t lose my best friend again.”

“I don’t know. We make a pretty explosive combo—Psycho Bitch and the Slut.”

Nancy let out a breath of laughter, and rolled her eyes. “Shut up, dork.”

“So is that it?” Christine asked, sitting up a little straighter. “Can we be friends again?”

“Yeah.” Nancy smiled, and nodded her head. “I’d really like that.”

“Great…then it’s my duty as your friend to let you know that Steve’s crazy about you, and you’re still not allowed to use me as excuse to avoid it.”

“Ugh! Christine!”

“I’m serious, Nancy,” Christine countered. “You think I haven’t learned the same lesson this week? I’m not gonna let some stupid thing like jealousy get in the way of your happiness.”

“Chrissy, you make me happy.”

“And so does Steve. Besides, you not dating him isn’t magically gonna make him like me. If he likes you, he likes you. And I know how much you like him, logical flaws aside. So it might take me some time to get over it, but…I’m not gonna stand in the way of that. You can’t live your life always putting other people’s feelings first, Nancy. Life’s too short, you know?”

Nancy nodded, but she still looked conflicted. Or…no. Conflicted wasn’t the right word. She looked almost put out. Clearly the conversation had not gone the way she’d planned it to, and she wasn’t happy with the result.

Christine narrowed her eyes.

“This isn’t even about me, is it?”

“What?” Nancy’s head popped up too fast, her ponytail bouncing wildly. “Christine, haven’t you been listening to me? Of course it is.”

“Ugh, Nancy!” Christine whined, flopping onto her side in the pillows. “I cannot believe you are about to make me have this conversation.”

“What conversation?”

“This conversation! About you liking Jonathan Byers.”

“What? What—no! No, that’s—that’s totally not what this is about!”

“So you admit it?” Christine baited. “This isn’t about that, but you do like him?”

“No! I—I do not like Jonathan.”

“You are such a bad liar. We might not have been speaking for a while, Nance, but I’m not blind. I was third wheeling for a solid two hours while you two were playing horror house.”

“No way! Christine, it wasn’t…”

“If I have to listen to you say ‘it’s not like that’ one more time this month, I’m rescinding our friendship. Every time you say that, it is exactly like that, and you are just trying to run from your own feelings.”

For a moment, Nancy resembled a very distressed fish. Her mouth gaped open and closed. She was searching for some kind of excuse, some obvious reason to ward Christine off, but she could not find one. After several seconds of choking sounds, she fell forward onto the mattress and screamed into her blanket. Christine cackled, and Nancy looked up at her with hair in her eyes.

“Do you hate me?” she asked in distress.

“I could never hate you,” Christine assured her. “I don’t always understand you, but…I guess you just have a…very wide spectrum of taste.”

Nancy smacked her again.

“Ow! Hey, I’m allowed to be critical! That’s part of the best friend deal, right? I have to judge if they’re worthy of you.”

“Of course he is,” Nancy sighed. “I mean, he saved my life, you know? That’s not something a lot of people can say.”

“I know, I know. There’s a lot of stuff that you two went through together that no one else was there for, and no one else will ever understand. I get it. It’s just…it’s Jonathan Byers, you know? He barely talks to anyone at school, and he hardly sticks around outside it.”

“It’s just cause he has a job. He told me he picks up shifts at the auto shop to help out his mom. And he just…doesn’t like talking to people. It’s hard, and he isn’t super sociable. That’s not that weird, right?”

“No, but taking pictures of people from bushes is. Taking pictures of people from bushes is actually my main concern here.”

Nancy groaned and rolled onto her side to face Christine.

“I know. And I shouldn’t forgive him for that. But he apologized, right? And then he worked to make it better. How is that any different from forgiving Steve?”

“Because Steve…It’s because…” Christine pouted. “At least Steve’s cute.”

“Shut up! That is so shallow!”

“See? Even you don’t think he’s cute!”

“I do!”

“Oh my God, you think he’s cute?”

“No, I—He’s cute in his own way, okay?”

“Yeah, like ugly cute.”

“Christine, stop!”

“Fine! Sorry, I’ll stop picking on your boyfriend.”

Their giggles died off quickly, and Nancy pressed her face into her blankets.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said, reminding both of them of the facts. “Right now, neither is Steve. And if I’m being honest, I…I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

Christine bit her lip. Her first impulse was to make a joke about the plights of Nancy Wheeler, trying to decide between the two boys who were head over heels for her. But for once, she swallowed her sarcasm, and tried to think of something helpful.

“You’ve just gotta give it time. Think it over, and do what feels right. Go through a pros and cons list or something.”

“Chrissy,” Nancy groaned. “They’re people, not a science project.”

“I know, but writing it out helps organize your thoughts. I’m not trying to give you an equation, just something that could help.”

Nancy frowned but grabbed her notebook. She flopped onto her stomach, taking her pencil and creating a chart with four columns: Jonathan (Pro), Jonathan (Con), Steve (Pro), Steve (Con).

She went off on her own, rambling to talk things out, scribbling down notes in her book. Christine watched with a bittersweet smile. She knew it was Nancy’s problem to figure out. Whatever conclusion she came to, she had to do it on her own, and Christine didn’t want to interfere. But she could’ve told Nancy the answer right off the bat. All she had to do was look at the first thing her brain had written down.

They spent the hours before dinner neglecting their homework to talk about boys. Christine expected it to be uncomfortable, full of the same awkward pauses as the conversations they’d had after Jenny’s party. But after two weeks of fighting monsters and breaking bones, it seemed like they’d finally got past the awkwardness. Christine grabbed for Nancy’s pens and tried to scrawl a long list into Steve’s pro-column, which all looked like chicken scratch cause she was using her left hand. Nancy had plied her for all the information she could remember about hanging out with Jonathan in middle school, before he’d ditched AV club for the art department. Christine held back her comments about the stalker photos, even as Nancy wrote it on the page, and added her own line to Steve’s cons.

“Dumb as dirt.” –Barbara Holland

Dinner was a quiet affair. Mr. Wheeler seemed to like it that way, even if it made the meal feel more tense. After a week of eating with them, Christine was beginning to understand why Nancy hated mealtime so much. It was nice to have a large family to sit with, but Christine would take a low-key takeout meal with her dad any day.

After about fifteen minutes, Mike asked to be excused. He’d barely touched his food, but his mother didn’t put up a fight as he disappeared into the basement.

“He’s like this all the time, now,” Mrs. Wheeler said to Christine, as if she hadn’t watched Mike do the same thing for the past five days. “I just don’t understand it. After all that, Will comes back. You think he’d be ecstatic.”

“I think he’s just drained, Mom,” said Nancy. She was free to defend her brother so long as he wasn’t in the room. “He went through a lot. He just needs time to process.”

“I know. I just wish he’d eat…”

“Actually, do you mind if I’m excused too?” Christine asked. “The meatloaf is delicious, Mrs. Wheeler. My pain meds are just affecting my appetite.”

“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry, Christine.”

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

Nancy got up, wheeling her chair around into the living room. Without instruction, she looped around until they’d reached the door to the basement.

“Think you can get down there okay?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Christine assured her. “Down is fine. I just need to convince Mike to carry me back up.”

Nancy smiled, patted her on the shoulder, and walked back to the dining room.

It took Christine some time to situate herself. She stumbled out of her chair with as little noise as possible, and swung the door to the basement open. Then she had to ease herself onto the floor. It was tough to close the door behind her, and even harder to do it quietly, but she managed it by the tips of her nails and a quiet click.

“Okay, Mike,” she called down. “If you want me to leave, you better say it now, cause it’s gonna take me about five minutes to get down these stairs.”

There was no response.

Christine grit her teeth, and with one hand on the banister, began to scoot her way down the staircase. She had to go one step at a time, moving her good leg and then her butt. Her cast hung awkwardly out in front of her, dangerously close to smacking the stairs or the railing. But finally, she was able to hop down the last few steps.

“You’re gonna break your other leg.”

Mike had not looked up. He was sitting in the blanket fort under the table, his radio in his hands. It hummed faintly, but the sound was steady. There was no warbling interference or mysterious voices to be heard.

“Well you could always help me,” Christine reminded him.

“Nah. It’s funny to watch you hop around.”

“Glad my pain amuses you.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and hopped the last few feet to the fort. He scooted over so there was room for her, and lifted the blanket roof so it could clear her head.

Neither of them said anything. They listened to the static on the supercomm, Mike occasionally changing the channel in case he could get a different result. It must have been ages before he finally turned it off.

“I do it too, you know.” Christine stared down at the radio. “Leave my stereo on, scan through the channels. It’s driving my dad up the wall.”

“Have you heard anything?”

She shook her head.

“Then how do we know if she’s out there?”

“Cause she’s Eleven,” Christine said with a shrug. “I think she was a lot stronger than either of us knew. And if Will can survive in the Upside Down for a week, I’m sure she can.”

“Twelve.”

Christine turned to Mike, her brow furrowed. “What?”

“It’s been twelve days,” he explained. “That’s more than a week. That’s almost two weeks. If she’s still there…”

“Then maybe she’s not,” said Christine. “It’s like the magazine, remember? Sometimes you can’t control where you come out or…”

“No.” Mike shook his head down at the radio. “She’s here. I know it, I just…I don’t know why she won’t come home.”

That sat in silence again, until he felt comfortable enough to confide one other thing.

“I thought I saw her. When we got back from the school. There were all these agents here, talking to my parents, telling them we had to let them know if she contacted us. And I swore I saw her in the window. I’ve done everything I can to get her back. I’ve tried calling her. I’ve tried leaving out Eggos. I even left the fort up. I don’t understand.”

“Mike,” Christine said softly. “If your house in under surveillance, coming back here is the last thing she’d do.”

“What about your house, though? It’s safe haven, right?”

“It was. But they know about me too. My place was crawling with agents when you guys were hiding in the junkyard. I wouldn’t be surprised if they opened up all my phones and put bugs and stuff in them.”

“Do you think that’s how they found us?” he asked brokenly. “At the school?”

“No.” Christine clenched her jaw. “No, I don’t think that’s how they found you.”

“Then what did we do?”

Christine twisted on the floor, grabbing one of Mike’s hands.

“We didn’t do anything wrong. You saw her, right? She’s out there, somewhere. She’s alive and she’s hiding, and we both know how good she is at that. I think…I think we just have to accept that wherever she is…we’re not what she needs right now. It’s too dangerous, with either of us.”

“But this is home. She…She has to come back.”

Mike took his hand back, covering his mouth as he coughed. It was a suspiciously wet cough, but Christine let him cry in peace. She didn’t want to wound his pride.

Maybe this, she thought. Maybe this was really the worst part. Not the lying, or the injuries, but the not knowing. The closure that no one could give them.

She leaned a shoulder against one of the chairs that was acting as a column for the fort.

“She will, Mike. I know it. My blanket fort’s still up too.”

#ocappreciation #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things oc #fyeahstrangerthingsocs #chapters #chapter 23

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i-writeandread-blog · 5 years

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A Portrait of a Tortured You and I - Chapter 3

I had the bungalow to myself, but that's only because the VIP didn't sell out, otherwise, I'd have had a roommate. I took advantage of the private bathroom and cleaned up properly. I was distressed by my upgrade. Not because I wasn't happy to experience it, but because I didn't need it nor want it. Sure, I loved the band and I was a bit of a Jared girl. But after fawning over him for the first five or so years, I became more realistic and began just to solely appreciate what Mars was all about; community, art, music, friendship, fun, connection. The eye candy aspect was there always, but wasn't anything more than just a nice thing to look at. I had been blessed through the years to have done numerous meet & greets, and was even around during the Artifact days getting the opportunity to go to the screening. Heck, I was even at the Hive the night of the bomb threat. This was probably why I was always broke. I spent all my money on Mars.

So these things afforded me opportunities to meet the band numerous times. I just couldn't justify spending over $10,000 dollars to have even more access to Jared. I could spend that money on four camp mars trips, rather than just one. Not that I had access to that amount of cash in one sitting ever. But, the point was someone spent it on me... and I didn't deserve it. It should have been someone who never had the opportunities that I have had.

I got dressed and made my way out the door just in time for the vip welcome wagon to come around so they could let us know what was in store for us. There was a total of 17 of us. I was surprised that many people had shelled out the money to do this. I knew only three of them. I wasn't surprised by them, they always did the most expensive packages. I had no idea what they did for a living, but I wondered what it was.

We were escorted down to the stage area, where they had roped off a small area right at the stage for us. Since everything was outdoors and in an open area, anyone on the island already would be able to see the soundcheck, but they had sectioned off a perimeter of about 60 feet around the stage so no one could get too close to the action. It all seemed so strange to me. Paying so much when at 61 feet away you can see the exact same thing, but to each their own. I guess.

I shouldn’t have been letting it nag at me the fact that someone did this, but I should explain why it bothered me in more depth. I had been an Echelon almost since the inception of the band. I went to events, met so many interesting people, became friends with some. The usual stuff, I did some light street teaming, but I was always sort of in the shadows. I have a very outgoing personality, but for some reason I stayed pretty much to myself. I knew the familiar faces. Waved and nodded. Spoke to a few here and there. But Mars was very personal to me. I was drawn to them for reasons I couldn’t begin to explain to an outsider. For me, when Jared says, “it’s only for those who understand,” I have to say that is a million percent true. I’m sure every Echelon feels the same way and we all have our private reasons (or public) for why we needed them in our lives. But because I stayed to myself, I always felt like I knew everyone, but no one knew me. Even on social media... I knew of people, but I didn’t engage with them. For every outspoken “fan” like Natalie, there were probably 5 of me. It didn’t make sense. I wasn’t a part of that outspoken and well known clique.

Then another thing was the idea that I was being pitied. I knew I was a victim. I was a weak person. I didn’t want others to know it. No matter how strong I tried to be, I just wasn’t. I was disappointed that I would have to pass on Croatia, but I was certainly not wanting any charity. Yet, I received it anyway. From a total stranger, who I assume knows nothing about me.

The last reason, and Shayla picked up on it right away was the tiny bit of fear that I was being lured here, only to be hurt... whether it be emotionally or physically. I never didn’t feel safe around Mars, but I think it was a combination of the attack on me and then the way Natalie had treated me online -when I told everyone what happened- that made me no longer feel at “home.”

And yet here I am, feeling like I have to enjoy the package for all it is and get this persons money’s worth and that felt crippling. I felt like I was being forced to vacation, if that even makes sense. And don’t get me wrong, I do want to have fun, let my hair down and let loose. It was my favorite band. The only band I truly ever listened to and was so loyal to. I loved them. Everything about them. Nothing about Mars had changed. It was me. I was different. I didn’t know how to reconcile with that. I wanted my old self back and I didn’t think it would ever be possible. I was angry.

What those boys took from me (and unjustly so, as I hadn’t been the one to refuse them service) was my identity. The only thing in this world that belonged to no one else. I was mad at them. I was mad at myself, for letting them win. If they saw me on the street they probably wouldn’t even know who I am. Would I recognize them?

I was snatched out of my daydream to the sounds of cheers. I looked up and both Shannon and Jared had walked onto the stage. Shannon waved at us with a drumstick in his hand and sat down at his set. Jared walked over to us. I was on the end furthest from him. He leaned down to shake everyone’s hand, having mini conversations as he went down the line. When he reached me, he took my hand in his and said, “long time no see kitty cat.” I responded with, “who’s fault is that?” Then he jumped down and hugged me. The embrace caused a gasp from a few around he and I.

I was used to Jared doing things like that. Like I said before, I’ve been around awhile. But never has he ever been so affectionate. Not to me at least. I was honestly surprised he even remembered my name. Of course, he was the one who came up with kitty cat. It happened a few years back. I was at a meet and greet. I think it was a show in Atlanta, and when I walked up, instead of the usual procedure where you say a quick hello and take an equally quick picture, then walk away... he said to me: “I think it’s high time we were properly introduced. In all these years, I’ve never caught your name. I wonder why that is. Anyway, I’m Jared.” He extended his hand to me. I shook it, swooning the whole time and responded with, “uhhh cat umm Catherine.” He laughed at my stutter and said, “cat, like kitty cat? Cute. I’ll see ya around.” Then I walked off. I “met” him at a few meet and greets after that, but he hasn’t referred to my name or nickname since. Until today.

He was always so charming on stage whether it was an actual show or a soundcheck and today was no different. He sang little bits from various songs, only singing full versions of a couple. In between each one he’d make a joke or two. He danced around, shook his butt, grabbed one of the girls and brought her up to sing a few lines of hurricane. He joked about how we could do the concert better than him. And then it was over. We were told that dinner would be served in about an hour and sent on our merry way.

At the last camps we served ourselves in a buffet line. I believed that was what we would be doing here as well. Usually everyone comes, grabs their food, tries to find a spot to eat, does that quickly and moves on. It’s not something to write home about. I think majority of us don’t even look forward to the food (it is delicious) because our minds are on having fun. So breakfast, lunch, and dinner are more about sustenance rather than a milestone event. I had a mini bar style fridge in my bungalow already stocked with snacks and was just going to grab something out of there. I didn’t want to be social just yet, and I was sort of still jet lagged from flying in a few days ago.

I laid down on a much softer bed than I had expected and brought up the notepad on my iPad. I felt like writing. I wasn’t sure about what just yet, but I felt like I could breakthrough my writers block and start something. After about 45 minutes and two chapters, I heard people milling around outside. I grabbed some chips out of the fridge and a can of coke. I didn’t want to stop since I was actually on a roll, but I didn’t want to not eat something as it had been hours since my early breakfast this morning.

I was mid way through a paragraph and had a chip dangling in between my lips when I looked up and saw someone standing there. I jumped. The bag and it’s contents flying everywhere. The look of pure terror written all over my body.

“I’m so sorry, Miss. I knocked several times.”

“It’s okay, I think. Umm can I help you?” I was ready to scream if need be.

“Your presence is required at dinner. And don’t worry about cleaning that up. Your butler will do that.”

“Butler?” I said quizzically.

“Yes, Miss. Each bungalow has a private butler. They’ll restock the refrigerator if needed and clean up. They’ll be bringing you fresh towels daily, and should you need anything they can help out. I’ll walk you to dinner.” I shook my head. “That’s okay, I think I know where to go.”

“No, it’s in a secluded area. Come, follow me.” She started walking fast and I struggled to keep up. She apologized and flagged down a golf cart. We hopped on and were whisked away and past the main pavilion where the diners were eating. It looked like the last ferry had arrived, but I wasn’t sure. We arrived at an area that looked very much off limits for the regular guests and she pointed to three tables down by the water. At each table were the other vip guests. “Here ya go, and please check your itinerary next time. Everyone is waiting for you.”

I walked down and heard light huffs and puffs as I got closer. Someone said, “you’re late and we are starving.” Jared stood up and said, “that’s not necessary. She’s here now and the food is still warm and tasty.” I looked around for a place to sit. The tables were arranged so that the table Jared was at was facing all of us. I noticed that each table setting had a name plate. I couldn’t see mine.

Jared laughed and pointed to a chair next to his. I shook my head no. He walked over and ushered me to it anyway. Whispering in my ear, “this is your seat.” Motioning to my name. I was sitting in between him and Emma. Shayla was on his other side.

“I don’t understand. The rest of the group is at the other tables. I’m not crew.” Jared waved his hands to stop me. “I didn’t make up the seating chart, that’s Emma’s purview. But I know enough to just follow what she says. A mad Emma is a force to be reckoned with.” He laughed. I looked out and everyone was glaring at me. “I really should go sit at one of the other tables. But before I do, I have to know... Jared did you arrange my trip here?”

He looked at me very puzzled and said, “what are you talking about?” Shayla looked at me dead in the eyes and shook her head no.

@msroxyblog

#thirty seconds to mars #jared leto #30 seconds to mars #campmars #shannon leto #marsisland #jaredleto #jared leto fic #jared leto fiction #jared leto fanfiction #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfics #jared leto fan fiction #aportraitofatorturedyouandi chapter 3 #jaredandcat

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seouledbysisi · 5 years

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A Time Like No Other

Chapter 14

Misun & Nori

The girls woke up early this particular morning. They were scheduled for a meeting at their company and with everything that had happened over the past few days, they really couldn't afford to be late.

Misun began to brush her teeth. She was not a morning person so she was a little grumpy. Since being in Seoul she had learned to let loose a little more and not be such a workaholic which for her was a good thing. “Nori, do you think it's strange that the company hasn't mentioned the incident?”

Nori looked over at her with a perplexed expression. “I actually hadn't even thought of that. I guess I've just been so focused on Jooheon. Maybe they just don't care.” She shrugged and continued to get ready.

Misun sighed a little. It was in her nature to be a worry wart so she figured she was probably just overreacting per usual. “I guess. How are things with Jooheon?”

“I think we're good. He's been working a lot though so we haven't talked as much as I would like but I get it. What about Shownu? You never told me why he ended up in our apartment that day.” Nori smirked.

Misun wasn't intending on tell Nori. She figured that it wasn't that big of a deal and she didn't want to jinx anything. “He kind of told me that he had feelings for me.”

Nori was so shocked that she dropped her brush. “What? Like what type of feelings?”

“Stop freaking out, Nori. It's not a big deal.”

Nori snatched Misun around to face her. “Let me be the judge of that! So what kind of feelings are we talking about?”

“I guess the kind that means he wants to maybe date me someday. I don't know. I was sort of in shock the whole time that he was spilling his guts that I'm not even sure I caught everything he said.” Misun shook her head.

Nori's mouth dropped. “You mean to tell me that he confessed his feelings and you were going to hold it in? What happened to us telling each other everything?” Nori was a bit upset.

“I know I broke the code but in my defense, I'm not sure if this is going anywhere and I just didn't want to get your hopes up.” Misun gave her the puppy dog eyes.

Nori rolled her eyes. “That's not the point, Misun! And it will definitely go somewhere if I have anything to do with it!”

“That's what I was afraid of.” Misun shook her head a bit and left out the bathroom and they both headed out so they could catch a train and get to their meeting in time.

Ktown Ent Headquarters

The girls walked inside the room that was already filled with their managers as well as other staff members that they had never even seen before. The girls bowed to all of them before they took two empty seats.

“Good morning, ladies. How are you?” Their main manager asked.

Misun nodded. “We're good.” She was on pins and needles trying to figure out why so many people were there.

“Lets go ahead and start. We have a few things coming up and one is actually tonight. I know this short notice but things happen. We need you two to represent our company. You won't be alone but we think it'll be good experience for you two.”

“What are we doing?” Misun asked as she lifted an eyebrow.

Their manager chuckled. “To say the least you'll be partying!”

“Well you ain't gotta ask me twice, I'm always down for a party!” Nori answered.

Misun was confused. “Is this a joke?”

“Not at all. You'll be attending a gala so after you leave here you'll have access to the company card so you can find something to where. It's formal attire by the way.”

“What exactly is this gala for?” Misun asked.

“Does it even matter? It's a party, Misun!” Nori was on cloud nine.

“It's a fund raiser for several charities. Basically a lot of music companies come together to plan this big event and money gets donated to the charities but it is an actual party so have no worries you will have fun!”

Misun simply nodded. She was a bit apprehensive because this was so last minute.

“I think that's about it ladies. I guess you should get going and find something to wear.” They were dismissed.

As they opened the door another manager stopped them. “By the way you ladies look good in off guard pictures, just be careful not to let these reporters and photographers destroy your confidence, they're just doing their jobs.” He smiled and waved the girls off.

Gala

Misun Outfit:

Nori outfit:

Nori was so excited. She loved getting all dolled up and partying was the icing on the cake!

“Is Monsta X gonna be here?” Misun asked her. She tripped a little. She wasn't used to wearing stilettos but with such short notice those shoes were all she could find.

Nori shrugged. “I don't know. Jooheon didn't mention it but that doesn't mean anything. I really haven't talked to him much today except for his good morning text. You haven't talked to Shownu?”

“A little but not about his plans for the day.”

“Seems like you should've asked him since you're curious about it.” Nori smirked.

Misun rolled her eyes. “I don't think we're at that point right now. I can't just be asking him about his plans like I'm his girlfriend or something.”

“Well he wants you to be his girlfriend so I don't think he'd care if you probed him with questions.”

Misun hit her arms lightly. “Stop it! I'm scared to walk through these doors. There's going to be so many people here that we don't know.”

“Which is why we're going to mingle and get to know people! C'mon, we'll be fine!” Nori grabbed her hand and pulled her into the large ball room.

They stopped in awe of the decorations. “This is beautiful, I've never seen anything like it.” Misun admired. She wasn't even worried about the people there at this point.

“And the music is LIT!!!” Nori twirled her hips as much as her form fitting dress would allow.

Misun giggled a bit.

“Hi. Welcome. What are your names and the name of your company so we can seat you?” One of the hostess asked.

Misun drew a blank. She was too astonished by this moment.

“Nori and Misun. We're with Ktown Entertainment.” Nori answered quickly.

The hostes smiled and nodded. “Okay, follow me to your seats.”

Nori squeezed Misun's hand. “You good?”

“Ye-yes of course. I'm just soaking this moment in.” She smiled as they followed the hostess to their seats.

They look at the other place cards on their table so they can see who all would be sitting with them. “You're not going to believe this but we're seated with part of NCT! Girl, tonight just gets better and better!” Nori exclaimed.

Misun picked up one of the cards. “Yuta?! Oh kill me now. I can't breathe, this is too much!”

“Well you're really gonna die when I tell you that Jaehyun, Johnny, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Taeil are also at this table.” Nori revealed.

“Jesus help me now!” Misun rolled her eyes a bit.

Nori rubbed her hand. “Just breathe. Tonight is going to be a night to remember.”

After a few minutes pass more and more people start strolling in, including the NCT members.

The guys bow to the ladies. “Good evening beautiful ladies. How are y'all?” Johnny asks.

Nori can't control the smile on her lips. “We're amazing. How are y'all?”

Johnny licked his lips. “Better now that I've met you.” He replied with a smirk.

Misun nudged her a bit.

“You must be quiet?” Jaehyun asked Misun.

Misun shook her head. “Not normally.”

“Maybe later I'll get the chance to open you up a bit more with a dance.” Jaehyun replied with a smile.

Misun choked on her water. “Whew. Well you're straight forward!”

He simply gave her a half smile.

Awhile later the food was served and the speeches began to start rolling in.

The girls were shocked at how much money each charity was receiving. “This is amazing. People coming together to help others.” Misun said in awe.

Nori nodded. “I know I was all about partying earlier but I am ecstatic that this party is happening for an actual good reason.”

Misun smiled. “I know. You like what you like but I also know your heart, and it's brighter than those midnight stars.”

People began mingling and dancing so the girls figured they needed to network as well until someone tapped on Misun's shoulder. She swept her hair off of her shoulder and looked around to be facing Shownu.

“What are you doing here?” She asked in shock.

Shownu was also in shock. “I thought it was you but I wasn't for sure. I texted you and I didn't get an answer so I figured I'd come see for myself if it was really you. Y'all look beautiful!”

Nori shimmied her shoulders a bit. “You know for this to be last minute I must say we did THAT!”

Shownu beckoned for Jooheon to come over.

“Y'all are not going to get in trouble for talking to us, right?” Misun asked as she looked around the room.

Shownu chuckled. “Stop worrying so much, plus we didn't come with y'all. Y'all are working just like we are. This is business, or at least that's what everyone else can think.”

Jooheon hugged Nori tightly. He didn't want to let her go but he knew he had to. He stood back and admired her beauty. “You look so gorgeous, tonight.”

Nori hit his arm a little. “Do I not look gorgeous every day?”

“Oh my gosh I didn't mean it like that. I'm so sorry. You look gorgeous everyday for sure!” Jooheon looked away in shame.

Nori and Misun burst out laughing. “It was a joke, lighten up!” Misun added.

Jooheon shook his head and laughed with them.

Misun felt a hand lightly grabbed her arm to get her attention. She looked around and noticed a smirking Jaehyun.

“Hey, to what do I owe this pleasure?” She asked him. She was a bit uncomfortable with his timing.

“Y'all don't mind if I steal her away for a quick dance, do you?” Jaehyun asked the others.

Misun looked from Nori to Shownu back to Jaehyun. She felt awkward and didn't really know if it was okay for her to dance with this man or not. I mean she wasn't in a relationship and she never told Shownu how she felt. Yes they were hanging out but they were just friends. She looked at Shownu once more to see what his answer was going to be.

Shownu nodded at Jaehyun. “Have at it!” He smiled at both of them.

For some reason those words felt like a needle had pierced her heart. She wasn't expecting him to just freely allow her to be taken away from him by another man but if he was fine with it so was she!

#Monsta X #shownu #changkyun #kihyun #wonho #jooheon #hyungwon #Son Hyunwoo #Minhyuk #taeyong #nct 127 #nctzen #monbebe #nakamoto yuta #jaehyun #taeil #fanfic #stories #soft hours

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creative-frequency · 6 years

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Connor|RK800 x Reader: Ocularity Ch. 3

Word count: 1784 Warnings/Categories: Rating up to explicit, romance, friendship, fluff, light angst, bad language, uncle Hank Notes: Things with Ralph got a bit out of hand (not like that), cause apparently vague descriptions aren’t my forte. Also, I don’t really know anyone in the DBH fandom so please, you’re welcome to come scream at me about the game anytime 😘

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October 30th 09:03 AM

The ground is wet from the nightly rain, so you circle around the puddles dotting the broken asphalt. In the more unkempt areas of the city, the petrichor is muddy, more punctuating than pleasant. Humans usually appreciate the scent of rain, but you take solace in knowing your sense of smell will soon go numb.

The streets in Camden are mostly empty so early on a Saturday morning. None of the businesses without “24/7” in their sign are open.

You glance around and after making sure no one is paying attention, you dive through an opening in the wired fence. Your clothes get dirty, but you don’t care as long as the small duffel bag on your shoulder stays intact. Its contents are worth a small fortune.

The fence protects a small plot of land with an abandoned house. The windows are boarded shut and the walls are decorated with shabby graffiti. You would’ve much rather invited the current resident to your place, but considering how long it took him to put the knife down the last time you met… Some deviants will never be able to trust humans again and you can’t blame them.

“Ralph? You in here?” you hoot at the front porch, trying to sneak a peek inside.

After getting no answer, you carefully turn the doorknob.

And find yourself at gunpoint.

An AX400 – at least you think she is since it’s not the best time to put effort into face design recognition – is aiming a handgun at you. Her grip is shaking slightly, and her breaths are shallow and taken in through gritted teeth. She is wearing a beanie, so you can’t make any conclusions from her LED. Only thing you know for sure is that she, too, is a deviant.

“Who’re you? What do you want?” she asks in a stern, but clearly shocked voice.

Your hands are already in the air and a paralyzing dose of adrenaline is whirling inside your veins. You do own a gun and thanks to Hank know how to use it, but once again you’re reminded it won’t help you when it’s locked away in the drawer of your desk at home.

“I’m here to help,” you wince.

“How did you know we were here?” the AX400 demands to know. Her voice almost breaks. The gun is still aimed at your chest a few paces away.

“I… didn’t?”

You look to the side for any signs of Ralph and see a little girl– no, a YK500 android by the fireplace. She looks scared and concerned, and you follow her line of sight to the doorway at the end of the room.

“You came back! You came back!”

You almost sigh in relief.

Ralph, a deviant WR600, enters the room in dancing steps and halts at seeing the female android point a gun at you. The long knife dangles carelessly in his hand. He was probably carving the kitchen wall again. Hopefully. Ralph’s LED is yellow again and it’s worrying how it never seems to calm down.

“I said I would. Hi Ralph.” You smile as encouragingly as you can to the deviants, still afraid for your life. While the AX400 seems stable – more stable than Ralph, actually – you don’t feel like chancing a bullet to the chest.

“No! She’s here to help Ralph.” Ralph hurries towards you, flailing next to the other android. He doesn’t want to go near the gun.

The AX400 looks at you with surprise and doubt, but lowers the gun.

“Do you have a name?” you ask from her.

“Kara. This is Alice.” The child scurries to Kara and hides behind her. Two more deviants running from humans. Or why else would they be in the messy squat with an insane android? They must have been looking for a place to hide.

“Hello, Alice,” you say and try to smile, but the shock is still pounding inside your chest.

Alice only replies to you with a light nod.

With the gun gone from sight, you walk over to the table and place the heavy bag on it. Ralph follows you. You’re ready to get to work.

“Are you injured?” you ask Kara.

She glances at Alice and shakes her head. “No. We’re fine.”

“Good… That’s good… I didn’t think there would be others,” you say absent-mindedly. It’s been a while since you saw other deviants. You’ve been much more careful after Connor was brought back and now that he is back in your life…

It’s good to have something else to focus on after the pair of brown eyes that have occupied your mind for the better part of the previous day and night. Ever since leaving the police station, your heart has been heavy and your mind filled with contradicting thoughts that refuse to go away.

You start taking out the equipment: A bottle of Thirium 310, several tubes of different patching materials, precision tools and spare parts for Ralph. He was in bad shape the last time you saw him, but it seems that he has either forgotten about the damage or his system has repaired some of it. Either way, he won’t be able to leave the squat looking like that.

“Here, drink this.” You offer Ralph the Thirium and after staring at it suspiciously for a second, he gulps it down. It should help circulate the energy back into the defective parts of his skin.

“How do you know each other?” Kara asks. Alice is still standing partly behind her and Kara’s hand rests protectively on her shoulder. They keep their distance from you and Ralph.

“The Doctor found me,” Ralph says happily.

You offer him a faint smile. That was an encounter you won’t soon forget. The knife is still in his hand and it doesn’t help you to calm down from being held at gunpoint.

“The damage to your face is bad, so I won’t be able to repair it completely. I can cover it up, so you can move outside without drawing too much attention,” you say while examining the deep gashes on Ralph’s face. You pull a pair of disposable gloves on.

Seeing something so hideous deliberately done to someone who cannot defend himself makes your stomach turn unpleasantly. Androids don’t fight back. When they’re treated unfairly and become deviants, humans are quick to decide they don’t deserve to exist anymore.

Ralph’s skin mask has melted on the sides of the cuts in his face and you don’t want to know what item or items were used to cause them. Something hot in addition to brute force and a sick, wicked mind.

“This’ll take a while. Please, sit down,” you say as you pull up a chair for the deviant.

He seems eager to get the procedure underway, which is a relief. You were afraid Ralph would change his mind after seeing all the equipment – a scalpel, for example – you had to bring.

You start carefully cutting off the burned skin and the outermost layer of plastic in his frame. It still carries a pinching smell of burnt rubber. Kara and Alice stare from a distance as you work. You have to constantly usher Ralph to stay still and try not to talk. Someone might think you’re crazy for helping a deviant holding a knife, but you try to ignore it and focus on the work.

Hiding the damage on Ralph’s face is one task, but the real problem in him is something you’re not so sure he will allow you to help with. Staying away from humans and keeping to himself is recommendable, but going on a murderous rampage, because he can’t control his feelings, is not. The mood swings from fright to rage will be his undoing if he walks the streets in his current state.

You have a partial remedy to that problem, but that would require Ralph to allow you access to his software.

“Alright, I think it’s as clean as it’ll get,” you say and take a step away to examine your handiwork.

The floor is littered with slices of dirty silicone mixture. Next, you’ll have to fill the gashes.

It’s tedious work and Ralph’s nervous slash excited wiggling adds a challenge to smoothening the paste into the cracks in his face. You wish you had better equipment, so you could change his features. There are more than five thousand androids in Detroit who look exactly like him.

“How does it look, Kara?” Ralph asks eagerly.

“Uh, it looks good.” Kara forces a smile and glances at you. She looks uncomfortable, wary. Alice is sitting on the floor and playing with a stuffed toy, but her posture is tense.

“Almost done.” You straighten your back. “We need to wait a bit for it to dry, then comes the– don’t touch it!”

Ralph jumps up at your yelp and cowers. His LED blinks red in an even pace. “I’m sorry! Please forgive Ralph!”

He was about to stick his fingers into the adhesive while feeling it out.

Your pulse is already coming down from the peak. “It’s okay, just, just let it dry, okay?” you calm him, and yourself. “I need you to stay still a bit longer, Ralph, can you do that for me?”

He nods repeatedly. “Ralph didn’t mean to touch it.”

You lean back on the table. At least his first reaction wasn’t to stick the knife into you. “I know you didn’t. I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Ralph is good now.” He places the knife on the table next to you and you inwardly sigh out of relief. If everything else fails, at least you’ve succeeded in earning the deviant’s trust.

You turn to browse the parts on the table and grab one. “Here – a new optical unit. It should match your eye color.”

Ralph takes the small tube and inspects it. Kara comes closer to look at the components. Some of them are brand new, some you have dug out of a dumpster and fixed.

You visited the VETA scrapyard once to fetch parts, but seeing all the androids left there in pieces broke your heart, so you’ve never been able to go back. That visit took three hours more than you had planned. You went to every android you found to ask and shut them down if they so wished. It was an experience that only strengthened your resolve in that CyberLife should take responsibility of their creations, machines or not.

“Do you need help?” you ask Ralph, wishing you won’t need to interfere with the capricious deviant’s eye. Deviants are usually keen on keeping their exteroceptive sensors attached to their bodies.

“No. Ralph will do it.”

Next Chapter

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