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#I'm not gonna mention the James thing

cupid-styles · 1 month

Note

omg bestieeeee i so need hocker h nd ballerina to talk and smooch !!!!! ngl i’m a sucker for protective and jealous h 🤭🤭🤭🤭 🐱

I feel like ive made you guys wait way too long for this one gvkdfjgkf

a continuation of this blurb! (and sort of this one)

word count: 2.3k (we had a lot of ground to cover)

content warnings: minor mentions of smut, slight angst but all is fixed by the end, not ramadan friendly

main masterlist | hockey h masterlist

talk to me

. . .

Two weeks.

Two weeks of radio silence from Y/N.

Two weeks of over-thinking everything he did that night.

Two weeks of Harry drunk texting her on lonely nights.

please just tell me if you hate me

im so sorry

ill leave you alone if its what you want, I just need to know

Each and every time, Y/N read his messages, eyes scanning over the words, and locked her phone.

The truth is, she doesn't know what she wants from him, if anything. She doesn't know why she felt so attracted to him that night — she was tipsy, not drunk, and in complete control of her actions. She never hooked up with people in public — no messy makeouts, but she certainly never let anyone finger her in the hallway of a bar.

The entire thing was completely unlike her. Maybe that's what scared her the most.

Deep down, she wanted to reply to him, but she didn't even know what to say. She didn't want him to leave her alone — maybe that was selfish, but she liked knowing he was at least a little okay. She'd even been keeping secret tabs on the hockey team. They had won their past two games, but Harry had been thrown out in the most recent one for unsportsmanlike conduct. Apparently, he'd gotten into a fight with one of the players on the other team.

Admittedly, that worried her, but she didn't want to be his babysitter. On top of that, the spring showcase was this weekend, and she'd thrown every last bit of her energy into rehearsing and practicing to make sure her performance would be absolutely flawless.

She didn't have the time — or mental capacity — to worry about Harry right now.

. . .

"You look like an idiot."

Harry rolls his eyes as he adjusts the collar on his button down for the third time. James and his girlfriend Melanie had helped him with ironing it out so it looked presentable enough on his body. Anything he ever did rarely called for slacks and button up shirts, but Melanie advised him to look polished and put-together for tonight.

He wasn't in a place to reject her advice.

The other teammates that James lived with weren't quite as kind. Stephen, a sophomore defenseman who was only on the team for the perks of sleeping with every girl he could get his hands on, wouldn't stop throwing sarcastic comments Harry's way.

"Shut up, Stephen!" Melanie calls from the living room. She marches into James' bedroom as Harry smoothes out a few leftover wrinkles in his slacks, swallowing tightly. "When's the last time you cared about something besides fucking random girls? At least Harry has some direction in his life."

"I'm just saying, the girl's been ignoring him for weeks. She's gonna laugh in his face."

"Leave!" Melanie exclaims, batting him on the shoulder. Stephen lets out a yelp of pain and Harry smirks, despite the anxiety throbbing in his chest. "You're not helping! Get out!"

Reluctantly, Stephen rolls his eyes as he follows Melanie's orders and leaves the room. She sighs and comes up from behind Harry before flashing him a hopeful grin.

"You look great, H. I think this is a really sweet gesture."

He nibbles on his bottom lip as he turns to face her. "Okay, but what if Stephen's dumbass is right? She could call security on me and have me removed."

Melanie gives him a sympathetic look, "Yeah, it's a possibility. But isn't it better to go down fighting?"

He shrugs.

"You said ballet is her everything. It's her entire life. Show her that you're willing to integrate yourself into that."

"Yeah," he breathes out, nodding slowly. "Yeah, you're right."

"I know I am." she grins. "Okay, let's get you over there. Don't forget the flowers you picked up!"

. . .

30 minutes later, Harry can't stop shifting uncomfortably as he sits in an aisle seat in the campus auditorium at Y/N's spring showcase.

The massive bouquet of flowers in his lap keep making his nose run and he feels like he's being suffocated by the buttons on his shirt that go all the way up to his neck. Best of all, according to the show program, Y/N isn't scheduled to go on until the very end. She mentioned to him once that being placed as the finale act is the best and biggest compliment, and he can't fight the bit of pride that thrums in his heart.

For an hour, he sits there, fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt and pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as he waits for Y/N to go on. He sits through mediocre singing showcases and even a violin solo that almost puts him to sleep, if not for the older man clearing his throat next to him. Melanie and James even text him during the intermission to see how it's going, but he doesn't have much to report back.

Finally, the show comes to a close and her name is announced, following by the title of the French piece of music she's dancing to. His heart throbs in his chest — he's so nervous for her, especially knowing she hurt her ankle just a few weeks back. But the second she graces the stage, she's a vision of beauty, strength, and delicacy all at the same time. It's enough to take Harry's breath away.

As he sits there watching her, he doesn't move a muscle. Not for a single jump, spin, or step. He doesn't know anything about ballet — not aside from what Y/N has told him — but in that moment, he realizes that he'd be willing to learn every little thing there is to know if it meant she let him back into her life.

She's gorgeous. She offers a flawless performance and the second she's finished, a look of relief washes over her face as she takes a subdued bow, her pretty eyes widening when she sees all the people — Harry included — standing and applauding her.

For Y/N, the hard part was over. For Harry, it had just begun.

. . .

Y/N is elated to have a moment of silence after her performance.

With the dressing room door shut behind her, she lets out a long, deep breath. The dance she'd been driving herself crazy over for months was finally over.

And yet, for some reason, she feels empty.

She shoves it down as sits, eager to get her pointe shoes off. She's ready to shed her costume and get into sweatpants and head home. She knows the rest of the performers are heading out to a party tonight, but she's exhausted.

She's sorting through the bag of clothes she brought when there's a soft knock at the door. She knows she only has around 20 minutes to get out before the janitorial staff starts cleaning, so she rises with a sigh, unlocking the door and opening it.

"I'll be done soon, I just need to change—"

It's not the janitor, though.

It's Harry. Standing there stiffly in a starchy button down with a huge bouquet of flowers that almost encompass the width of his broad shoulders.

"What are you doing here?" she blurts without thinking.

"I came to watch you perform," he replies gently. His throat bobs as he hands her the flowers. "These are for you."

"You didn't watch me." she snorts with a shake of her head. She hasn't accepted the bouquet yet.

"Yes, I did," he instantly fires back, "What, do you wanna see my ticket for proof? I was in seat F34, next to an old man who kind of smelled like soup, and he kept clearing his throat and it was really annoying but I didn't care because I came to see you, and I'd sit through hours of bullshit to watch you dance."

Harry can't read the blank expression of her face, but he takes it as a step in the right direction when she takes the flowers from him. She blinks as she glances past him and then steps aside, motioning for him to come in.

"I have to get my shit together and leave soon, so... just sit in here."

He nods. He's hesitant to allow himself to relax since he's not sure if he's in the clear yet. She closes the dressing room door behind her and places the bouquet on her vanity.

"I need to change," she says, spinning around to face him. "Close your eyes."

He chuckles until he sees the serious expression on her face. "Wait, really?"

"Yes, really."

"But... I— y'know—"

"Just turn the fuck around, Harry."

He does as he's told, shutting his eyes as he listens to her roll her tights down and step out of her leotard. One day, if she let him, he'd be more than happy to do that for her — not even in a sexual way, but he knows how tiring it can be to take off his own gear after a long game. He thinks it would be nice to be there for her.

"Okay, you're good," she murmurs. She's stuffing her things in her tote bag when he bats his eyes back open.

"Are you meeting up with anyone after this? I'm sure your friends came to see you, but I just wanted to maybe talk and... y'know, clear the air a bit." Harry says, wringing his hands nervously in his lap. Y/N furrows a brow as she analyzes his body language. She doesn't think she's actually seen him look anxious before.

"Um... no," she says with a shake of her head before quickly revising her answer, "No, I mean, I'm not meeting up with anyone and no one came to see me. Except you, I guess."

"Wait, really?"

She sighs as she pauses the process of gathering her things. "Really, Harry."

He swallows tightly. They're silent for a moment as she grabs her jacket and throws it over her shoulders.

"Come over and we'll talk. I borrowed my friend Matt's car for the night but— yeah, you can follow me to my place or whatever. And I can't promise I'll be awake for much longer but I think clearing the air could be... good."

A rush of relief makes its way through Harry's body.

"Okay. Yeah, let's do that."

. . .

"I never said it, but you were flawless tonight."

Y/N laughs breathily as she settles onto her couch, a cup of sleepy time tea in her hand. Harry rejected her offer for one (his response had been, "Y/N, do I look like someone who drinks tea with a sleeping bear on it?") but he'd be lying if he said it didn't at least smell good.

"I fucked up on one of my jetés — I'll get yelled at for it on Monday, but otherwise I'm decently content with the performance."

"Well, you couldn't tell," Harry replies, "Seriously. You were perfect."

Her cheeks warm and she stares down at her tea. Her legs are sprawled out in front of her while Harry sits on the other edge of the couch, giving her plenty of room to stretch out.

"So... clearing the air."

Harry clears his throat and nods, prepared to embark on the speech he'd been practicing in his head for weeks. But then, she speaks.

"I'm sorry for running out on you and ignoring you," she says, keeping her gaze down in her lap. "That wasn't... I'm not the best person. I'm bad at feelings and I use ballet as a crutch. I figure it's the one thing I'm really, exceptionally good at, and that should give me a pass in life but I know that's not true. I can't just go around treating people like shit because I'm... scared."

"What are you scared of?" Harry asks through furrowed brows. "I'm sorry if I stepped out of line that night, I should've been better—"

"You didn't. You were great. You did everything perfectly," she replies with a shake of her head. Her response surprises him, but he tries to hide the shock on his face. "I'm scared because you're you. You're a hotshot hockey player and, besides this showcase, you're the only other thing I've thought about these past few weeks. That's horrifying for me."

"Is this...?" Harry attempts to roll his lips into a thin line, preventing a smirk from bursting onto his face. "Is this a very Y/N way of telling me that you like me?"

She groans, as if it's the worst thing to ever happen to her, and it makes Harry laugh.

"Don't laugh at me!" she exclaims. That only makes Harry cackle even louder as he slowly crawls over to her, taking her warm cup of tea out of her hands and placing it on the coffee table.

"You're cute when you're exasperated." he murmurs. She pouts and his eyes crinkle with a grin as he peels her shaky hands away from her face.

"You're the one exasperating me."

"I know," he replies lowly, licking his lips as his face hovers over hers, "I like it."

"This isn't us agreeing to date, by the way." she quickly tacks on. He issues out a mhm as he leans forward, testing the waters, and pressing a light kiss to her nose. "We need to take it slow. Like, painfully slow. Or else I'll freak out and run away again."

"Whatever you want." he mumbles, kissing her right cheek. "I mean it."

"And you can't just overwhelm me whenever you feel like it."

He laughs and kisses her left cheek, then her forehead.

"Okay. Any other demands?"

He stops pasting kisses to her face then, instead choosing to simply loom his lips over hers. He can feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest and watches as she swallows nervously.

"No," she finally whispers. "Just kiss me."

And so he does.

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luveline · 10 months

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I would love the reader flinching during a fight blurb (I think u did it with James and Steve) but with eddie! Only if u want of course

thank u for ur request, hope this is okay, 1k fem!reader

cw mentioned past abuse/abusive situation, please read with care!

Eddie doesn't do anything to provoke your reaction, obviously, and if he did it would've been accidentally. He only raises his voice and puts down his keys too hard at the same time on the table, barely looking at you as the argument reaches a crescendo.

The sound catches you off guard. Your arms leap in toward your chest and your head turns to the side, defending yourself from a blow that would never come from him. Nausea floods your system, and no sooner have you flinched than you're covering your mouth to smother it.

"Holy–" Eddie takes a step back initially, but he quickly closes the space between you to take your elbow. You force your arm out of his grip. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"I thought you were gonna throw your keys at me," you start to explain, reaching for him. "I–"

"I would never do that."

"I know," you say, blinking and straightening up your hunched back, "that's not– I know you wouldn't, but the noise…"

"Sorry," he says tightly.

You take a deep breath and feel embarrassment like a rushing wave hit you, ice cold, your hands covering your face for a moment to get air in right. You peek at him through your fingers. "No, I'm sorry," you say, "what were you saying?"

"It really doesn't matter. Were you scared of me?" he asks, sounding terrified.

"No. I mean– I mean," —his expression dampens further at your stammering— "I flinched because it was loud."

"You said you thought I was going to throw my keys at you–"

"Because I did think that. It was only for a second."

"Somebody chucked shit at you enough you started expecting it?" Eddie asks, his terror melded into something much worse. He frowns at you, an imploring pinch to his eyebrows as he rubs your upper arm.

"Eddie, I don't wanna talk about it."

"You don't?" he asks.

"Why would I want to talk about that? It's so fucking embarrassing."

Eddie takes your arms into both hands gently. "Pause on our fight. Or forget it." He ducks his head to meet your eyes, his lashes like half diamonds, long and dark and emphasising the browned honey colour of his irises. "It's not embarrassing. It's not embarrassing. I'm sorry it felt like I could throw them at you, but I wouldn't."

"I know." You sound more annoyed than he deserves.

"Yeah?" he asks gently.

You try to calm down. Chill out. "I know you wouldn't. It wasn't like that, it's just 'cos we don't fight and it was instinctive. Like a yawn."

Heartbreak blossoms on his face. You hate it at first, thinking he feels sorry for you, but then things slow. Your heart rate, your adrenaline. For the first time since you started arguing a few minutes ago, breath comes easily to you. Eddie waits for your cue, his hands sliding down to take a loose hold on your fingers.

It shouldn't be instinctive to expect pain during a verbal disagreement. His face says as much.

"I swear, sweetheart, I wouldn't," he murmurs.

You start to cry when you realise you believe him. Of course you know he wouldn't, but you could've said that before about someone else. And he's asking you if you wanna talk about it like you should, and you say you don't but of course you do —you want him to tell you it'll never happen again. That it was undeserved.

Eddie's rough around the edges but his hands are always nice. He sews your fingers between his and squeezes weakly.

"Somebody threw stuff at you?" he asks, eyes darting down your cheek, following a heavy tear.

"It's okay," you say.

"I'm supposed to be telling you that. Shit, c'mere." He pulls you in for a hug. "This is okay, right? I don't wanna make you feel worse."

"It's fine." You sniffle into his shoulder. "It's fine, I don't know why I'm upset."

"I thought you were gonna throw up, baby. I didn't mean to make you feel like that, I shouldn't have started shouting. I wouldn't have. If I knew, I wouldn't have. I shouldn't have."

You cling tighter.

"Sorry," he says, kissing your forehead, his voice all closed up like he's upset.

You shudder as you inhale, your body's attempt at regulating, and press your nose into his neck until it hurts. If it hurts him, he doesn't say, but you readjust in case it does.

"What happened?" Eddie asks.

"It's shitty, Eds. You don't wanna hear it."

"Yeah, I do. Anything that happened to you that warrants that sort of reaction is something I want to know about, not just 'cos I have tires I need to slash–" He audibly winces. "Or, like, an angry letter to write."

"You can slash tires. It's not like that, I don't think you're violent, baby."

"Good. I wanna know what made you feel that way because that's stuff that happened to you, and I love you. I don't want you carrying that by yourself. And," —he drops his cheek toward his shoulder, smiling At you tentatively— "I don't ever wanna make you flinch again."

"It's not your fault."

"It's not yours, either. None of that shit was your fault."

Eddie rubs your back until it feels weird, your skin almost raw under the constant back and forth, but it's a steadying touch that you don't want to go without. You tell him the gist of things without crying anymore, and if you need to do it with your eyes pressed to his shoulder he doesn't say a word.

He has some assurances to make you. How loved you are. How the last thing in the world you deserved was a raised hand. You've never heard him speak that sincerely for that long, but you need every word. When you think he might get sick of comforting you, he props you on the couch.

"Tell me if I'm being too much," he says, wrapping you up in a one-sided hug.

You feel safe and sound under his arm, pressing a kiss to a blown out tattoo. "Not too much," you murmur.

Eddie pulls your head to his lips for a peck nestled lovingly beside your eyebrow.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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lovingmattysposts · 2 months

Text

You don't know me 26

P1 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31 P32

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: mentions of family dramaaa

"Nate said that?" Chris mumbled as his hand played with my fingers. I just watched our hands together as I laid against him. "Yep" I sighed as he interlaced our fingers. Chris sighed as he dropped our hands.

"I don't blame him, he probably thinks I'm exactly like my mother" I sighed as I tilted my head to look up at him. He looked down at me. He shook his head. "It's not an excuse, you're two completely different people" Chris defended. I looked down, leaning my head back against his shoulder as we laid in his bed.

"I'm not trying to pin you against your best friend Chris"

"It's hard to not be against him"

"Chris"

"What?"

I closed my eyes feeling my stomach twist. "I didn't want this to happen" I mumbled. His hand disconnected from mine and his arms snaked around me. "We don't have to talk about it. I'm not trying to make you upset. I know today's been a lot for you" He whispered trying to ease the mood.

I rolled over causing his arms to shift as I laid on top of him. I smiled down at him, and pressed our noses together. He smiled.

"So are you just never gonna try and talk to James?"

I groaned and buried my face in his neck. I knew he was just curious, trying to push me forward. It wasn't his fault.

"It’s just not fair" He mumbled quickly, squeezing my sides. I hummed against him. I lifted my head and his eyes caught mine. "What about your dad? You don't talk to him" I said raising my eyebrows. His demeanor shifted and his hands released me and he looked away.

Struck a nerve. Shit.

"I just--If we're talking about child-parent relationships, you have a connection to your dad. Why don't-" I tried to recover poorly. "Don't go there, it's different" He mumbled shifting underneath me, but not pushing me off him.

"I just wanna make sure you're okay too" I whispered. "You're so worried about me, let me worry about you" I said trying to catch his eyes. He let out a breath.

"I'm moving back into their house, he'll have to like me somewhat. I'll be fine" He almost whispered. I looked away from him.

I still hadn't told him about my deal with my mom. If he had the option, I didn't even know if he would choose to stay. After all he was forced to move here, just because we were together doesn't necessarily mean that he wanted to stay.

"Have I told you that I loved you recently?" I whispered. He looked over at me before sighing. "I love you too" He whispered. I smiled and pressed my lips against his cheek softly and slowly before moving back to face him.

He glanced down.

"After they told me they were moving me into my grandpa’s house, I told them that I loved Rose more than I loved them" He stated. I just looked at him, feeling the shift of energy. I moved off of him, but kept my eyes on him. He moved and fear flashed across his eyes.

I reached over, connecting our hands. If we were going to have a serious conversation, I didn't want to be on top of him. I wanted him to know that I was listening, not that I was jealous from his words. I knew he loved Rose, I wasn't jealous of that anymore.

Once our fingers connected and a look of understanding crossed my eyes, he relaxed. "Did you mean it?" I asked softly as my thumb moved across the back of his hand. He leaned against the pillows looking up at the ceiling.

"I don't know" He mumbled. "I don't really know If I meant it, I just knew that it would hurt, so I said it" He said looking down at our hands. I studied his face. He was good at that, making words hurt. I knew that first hand, sadly.

"I'm not proud of it" He shook his head. "Yeah" I breathed. He looked over at me. "It's okay Chris, people do things out of hurt. It's a natural reaction, it's normal" I said. He shook his head. "Nothing about the way that I react is normal" He sighed closing his eyes. I swallowed.

"Do you wanna go back?" I hestiated. He looked over at me. "I don't wanna leave you" He whispered. I blinked at him. "That's not what I asked" I said softly. He just looked at me.

"I don't like making decisions, i'm not used to it. Every decision that has brought me to this point has been made for me." He said. I sighed closing my eyes. I shouldn't have opened this can of worms, because I was scared of what it entailed.

"I don't-" He paused.

"It's not that I don't want to go back, it's that I'm scared to go back" He whispered. I opened my eyes. He was looking at me. "That town holds memories that I don't want to remember. I felt like I was a different person there" He mumbled.

"A better person?"

"Y/n"

"If you had the choice, would you stay?"

He just looked at me, before turning. "Are you afraid that if you go back that remembering Rose would make you forget about me?" I asked disconnecting our fingers. His head snapped over to me.

"Y/n, No" He sat up looking down at me. "It's just--" He stopped closing his eyes. "Before I came to Michigan, I was never violent. I never started fights. Every emotion I felt didn't turn into anger. I was..." He swallowed.

"Happy" I finished for him. He glanced over at me. "I was just a different person" He breathed. I nodded sitting up.

"I love you"

"I know you do" I whispered. "I don't want to break up when I move" He swallowed. I looked over at him. "I'm serious" He grabbed my hand. I just watched him.

"If you had a choice. Would you stay?"

"Why are you acting like I have a choice?"

The door opened before Dan's eyes met mine. Chris turned his head to him. A smile crept onto Dan's face. I looked down at my lap. Just from Dan's face, reality crashed over Chris. I felt his eyes burn into mine.

I swallowed before removing my hand from his.

"I'll let you guys....." I breathed pushing off the bed and avoiding Chris's gaze. "Talk" I breathed before grabbing my shoes and moving past Dan's smiling face. I couldn't breathe as I walked down the hallway of his house.

I knew that life wasn't fair. I understood that and I was starting to except that. It wasn't fair for me to keep Chris here if it's not where he felt like he belonged. That being said, if Chris does leave.

I blinked up at the house, for the second time in two days.

I had to have someone.

I walked up the steps. I raised my fist to knock, but paused and turned and walked down the steps.

what if he doesn't like me?

what if he doesn't want me?

what if he looks at me and all he sees is my mom, like my mom does with him?

Doubt crept in. The thought of someone else not accepting me, make me sick to my stomach. He wanted to see me when I was a baby. What changed?

My feet hit the payment of the driveway before I heard a car door slam. I froze. If Nate saw me outside of his house again, I think he'd actually hit me. But a part of me knew it wasn't Nate this time.

I wasn't fully out of the driveway yet and I was frozen as I saw someone in my peripheral vision walking from a parked car on the street.

"Hello?" a voice rang. I felt my entire body shake. I forced my eyes up before I saw a man. The same color hair as Nate, tall, lean, scruff lining his face. He looked like Scott’s age.

He was holding something in his hands. A bag from a takeout place nearby. I don't remember the last time I had take-out food. I'd only really had prepared meals from our chef that stayed in our guest house.

I smelt the food as he got closer. Once we made eye contact, I looked down at my feet. "Uh, sorry I was just leaving" I mumbled quickly. I saw his feet pause in front of me. My whole body shook.

"Are you here for Nate? He just left to go play hockey with some guys at the old rink"

He didn't recongize me. I could get out of this.

"Yeah, I figured. I was just leaving" I said shaking my head. He tilted his head. I still hadn't look up.

"What's your name sweetheart?" His kind voice rang through me like a thousand bolts of electricity at the unthought aboutnickname. I felt a lump in my throat.

"Rose" I lied. The first name I thought of. I wasn't proud of it, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

"Well, Rose. I can give him a call, if you haven't already. He didn't tell me he was expecting-"

I looked up at him.

His smile dropped.

I bit my lip as he stared at me. We had the same eyes. Same round shape, same color. I swallowed. His face dropped in color as the realzation hit him.

"Y/n-" he barley got out before I moved on my feet.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come" I mumbled as tears filled my eyes. I heard the bag of food drop and steps come after me.

"Y/n, wait. Please"

I wiped my face as I stopped and turned to look at him. His mouth was parted as he search for words. I looked down feeling my chest clench.

"I shouldn't have come I-I'm sorry. I know you probably don't want to see me" I choked out as I tried to regain the feeling in my legs. "I've waited 18 years to see your face" he said making me look up at him.

He shook his head.

"Can I--" His voice shook. "Can I hug you?" He breathed. I blinked at him before I slowly nodded. He stepped forward before his arms came around me and he pulled me into his chest. He wasn't overly tall, a little taller than Chris and Nate, but not over 6 foot.

"My little girl" He breathed. Almost like he was saying it to himself not to me. I stood frozen against him, but he held me like he never wanted to let go. I swallowed before I allowed myself to hug him back.

We stood there for a second. In the middle of the driveway, just a daughter hugging her father. It felt like the world stopped spinning.

He pulled back from me and I saw tears in his eyes.

"Please, come inside" He said placing his hands on my shoulders. I opened my mouth and looked back towards the road. "I-" I breathed before looking back at him. Pure hope and almost....regret? Filled his face as he looked down at me.

"Okay" I nodded. He smiled before placing his hand on my back. He picked up the food off the ground, that lucky hadn't spilled, as he walked me towards the front door.

I felt my heart pound against my chest so loudly, it was all I could hear. I was scared. I was scared of Nate coming home early. I was scared of my parents---well my mother and Scott, finding out I was here. I was scared that the man I've built up in my head the past 24 hours wasn't the man I dreamt of. Or worse, he was.

I've gone back and forth. Felt every emotion. Anger, happiness, fear, anxiety, hopefulness, depression, doubt, every single one. Towards the man I had just laid eyes on for the first time.

He pushed the door open and I noticed that his hands were shaky. I walked in before him and my eyes drifted over his home. Nicer than Chris's, definitely not as nice as mine, but my favorite house I've ever seen.

A decent sized living room, with up to date furniture. A flatscreen tv in front of the couch with a Michigan State jeresy hung in the living room. It's where both my parents went to college, and now I'm assuming he went too.

The only thing that made my heart turn were the pictures lining the hallway of Nate. None of me. No reminisce of me, anywhere. Not that their would be. But it still hurt, because if you walked into the house you would have no idea I'd even existed to him. And that's exactly how I felt.

"C-Can I get you something to drink? Are you thirsty? Do you like tea?" He fired questions at me once we entered the living room. I opened my mouth as I tore my eyes away from the home decor and looked at him.

"I-uh..yeah sure" I mumbled. He let out a breath and smiled softly before walking into the kitchen. I just watched him as he reached for the fridge. White walls, a kitchen island, a loaf of bread on the counter, and a sign that read:

In this house we EAT

I smiled softly, it went away fast, I barley even realized it happened. I let out a breath as I turned and looked around. One set of stairs that led to the second floor and a railing that overlooked the living room from upstairs. I let out a breath seeing pictures of Nate in hockey uniforms lining the walls. It felt like a knife in my throat.

"Shit"

I turned seeing he spilled some tea onto the counter. His hands shook against the bottle of tea. He closed his eyes and took in a breath before moving and grabbing a paper towel.

At least I wasn't the only one losing their shit right now. I looked down at my hands and clasped them together before I heard footsteps entering the living room.

"Here you go" He smiled handing me a cup of iced tea. I looked down at it and looked up at him. "Thank you" I breathed. He sighed and wiped his hands against his jeans, nodding.

"I normally don't have tea, but Nate-he likes-" He started to say. I bit my lip and looked down at the mention of Nate. His son. My brother. You know the one he didn't pretend didn't existed for 18 years?

"Do you want to sit?" He asked pausing his previous sentence, probably due to my reaction, and motioned towards the couch. I forced a small smiled and nodded before I froze bringing my cup over the carpet.

I wasn't allowed to have drinks or food in the living room at home. I remembered once I had orange juice in the living room and spilled in on the white carpet.....I wasn't allowed to drink orange juice ever again and was placed on a water-only diet until I was 12.

They were angry over it for 5 years.

He noticed my hestitation. I glanced at the carpet before kicked off my shoes and holding the cup close to my body as I walked slowly over the carpet before placing it in the middle of the table next to the couch. That way, if I moved my arm or my legs I wouldn't knock it over on the carpet.

I lifted my hand from the cup calmly before sitting on the couch. He was already sitting my the time I did my ritual. He just looked at me. I couldn't read him. But I knew I saw a hint of confusion. I looked down and noticed he was wearing boots.

Dirty boots.

Like he had just gotten off a job sight. And his feet were placed against the carpet. His boots against the carpet. His dirt filled boots, against the wool.

I looked up at his eyes realizing how insane I must have looked taking off my shoes and making sure there was no possible way for me to harm his carpet with my feet or my drink.

I swallowed and looked down at my lap.

"Sorry" I whispered. He didn't say anything for a second and I heard him smack his lips before speaking.

"You're beautiful. You've grown up a beautiful girl, Y/n" He breathed. I could tell he was practically begging for me to look up at him, and I wanted to, but I couldn't.

It's not like you would have known. My mind rang at his words.

But I couldn't even find myself to be angry. I found myself to just be hurt, fighting back tears. "Thank you" I whispered. He took in a breath as his hands slid down his jeans.

"How-" He paused, licking his lips. "Did your mother tell you?" He asked softly. I blinked up at him. I noticed how he said mother instead of Clara. I wondered if it was as hard for him to say Clara, as it was for my mother to say James.

"No" I stated blankly. "But she knows I know" I said. He nodded and looked down. I pulled my legs up against my chest, like I did when I felt like I had nothing else to hold onto.

"Okay" He breathed. I turned and looked at him. He looked at me. "I'm sorry, I don't know how to do this. I wasn't prepared to-" He swallowed stopping himself. I closed my eyes.

"I know you're probably very angry and confused" He shook his head. "And feel like you've been lied to" He shook his head. Bingo James, nailed it right on the head.

“But I promise you when I say that not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about you—“ He breathed shaking his head. I just watched him. He swallowed trying to contain his emotions.

“Why did you never try to see me?” I whispered. He took in a breath before looking at the ground. “When your mother…” He swallowed. Just like my mother, it looks like it pained him to speak about it,

“Decided for the both of us that she was going to say you were his-“ He didn’t have to clarify who ‘his’ was, because we both knew it was Scott.

“If I had tried to reach out to you, or be in your life, he wouldn’t have understood why” He stated shaking his head. I could feel the regret forming in his words.

“And I obliged to your mom’s wishes to just stay out of it” He breathed. I just watched him. “Because you loved her” I stated. He closed his eyes and looked at me.

“The moment I agreed to pretend that you weren’t mine—“ His face tightened and I saw tears line his eyes. “I’ve hated a part of myself ever since” He whispered, shaking his head. He looked down.

“I don’t expect you to believe anything I’m saying. My dad was never present. If he told me something like this I would probably tell him to piss off” He shook his head. I just watched him. It was something I should do, but I didn’t have anything else but to believe him.

“Don’t take this as creepy as it sounds, but..” He paused. “I know about your life. I know you were on the debate team. I know you were dating the Hasting’s son for a while. I know that when you were little, your hair was lighter than it is now, and I know that you favorite color is purple because you wear it so much. Luckily for me, Clara can’t kick me off social media. Even though I agreed to not see you, I still wanted to know how your life was going. If it was good. If you were happy” He finished hesitantly.

I just looked at him before hope sparked in me. There was no way of him knowing that without him actually meaning what he said, he kept up with my life. I looked down at my feet. That doesn’t fix the strain on my trust. Sadly my trust for people as dwindled deeply from what I’ve been through these past few months.

“I don’t know how to trust you” I breathed honestly. “I don’t expect you to trust me. You’ve been lied to your whole life, I’ve lied to you. Your mother has lied to you” He shook his head.

“I’m not expecting you to run into my arms or even call me dad” He sighed pausing softly after dad. I felt my heart ripple.

“But if you want a relationship with me-“ He shook his head. “There is nothing I’ve wanted more in my entire life and I will not take it for granted” He said meeting my eyes. I just looked at him.

He licked his lips.

“But if that’s not what you want, I can completely understand” he tilted his head, like it pained him to say it. “If you just came here to hear the truth, I can understand that too” He nodded softly.

I looked around the house before looking back at him. “Did you ever marry?” I asked suddenly. He looked up at me, blinking. Like he was shocked by the question.

“I—I didn’t see any pictures of a female on the walls. Only Nate. I didn’t know” I whispered shaking my head. He took in a breath raising his eyebrows before he shook his head.

“I never married” He answered my question. I nodded and looked down. "Nate's mother wasn’t....." He said looking in front of him. "someone I even wanted to be with, to put as bluntly as possible" He shook his head. A rebound. He meant to say.

"I think the greatest thing to come out of my past mistakes were you and Nate" He said glancing over at me. The corners of my mouth turned up before they fell back flat.

"I came here before today." I admitted. He just watched me. "I ran into Nate" I explained. James closed his eyes and sighed. "When did you tell him I was his sister?" I asked softly. He pursed his lips.

"He saw me looking through Clara's page--pictures of you-" He glanced at me. "Before he accuse me of something absurd, I explained to him everything." He glanced at me. I nodded. I realized how weird it would look to see him stalking a teenage girl online if you didn't know the circumstances.

"That was at the beginning of the summer, about 10 months ago" He breathed. I sighed. "I should have told him sooner. It had always been Nate and I since the beginning and....I just should have told him, but I didn't what to explain that his father willingly gave up his first child and barley tried to fight" He swallowed. Guilt lined his tired eyes.

"I read the letters, you fought" I said softly. He looked up at me, surprised by my statement. I didn't know if it was from the fact that I read the letters or that I told him that he did fight.

"I didn't know she kept the letters" He stated.

The fact that I read the letters.

"I'm not like my mother"

"You're very much like your mother" He nodded looking at me.

I looked up at him. He sighed. "The Clara that I knew, maybe not the one you know" He corrected himself. I bit my lip and looked down. "Not the one I know" I whispered shaking my head, he just watched me. I looked up at him.

"Can I ask you something?" I said. He nodded quickly. "Why does Nate hate me so much?" I whispered. He licked his lips and looked down. "When I have to go to Clara's page-" He shook his head.

"And I have to see picture of her, Scott, and you all together. As much as it makes me happy to see how you're doing....seeing you with Scott and Clara and not me, as adolescent as it is….It makes me angry.” He sighed.

“So when Nate questioned me, I was already on edge from seeing her page, that I said some things about your mother that I shouldn't have, out of anger." He stated.

"I didn't paint her in the best light, and Nate's so....." He looked up trying to find the right words.

"Mouthy?" I asked, letting a chuckle escape James's throat. "I was going to say intutative" He said glancing over at me. I smiled and looked down. "He must have thought, like mother like daughter" He said looking at me.

I sighed as the realization washed over me. Nate hearing what his father went through with Scott and Clara and her seeing them both, he must have thought I'd do the exact same thing with Chris and Max. No wonder he hated my guts.

"I see" I nodded. "Must be why he hated seeing me with Chris so much" I said looking up at James. His eyebrows rose. "Chris?" His face lightened. I couldn't help the smile that came to my lips.

"Yeah" I smiled running my finger over the fabric of the couch. James leaned back. "Chris has a good heart—bad temper, but a good heart" James smiled. I nodded in agreement.

"I was with Max and I started seeing Chris kind of in the middle of it and...." I shook my head. James just watched me. "Needless to say Nate didn't approve" I said meeting James's eyes. James nodded. "I see" He breathed.

"Are you still seeing Max?" He asked. I shook my head. "No, he had a bad temper and a bad heart" I explained. James pursed his lips. "I'm not proud of how I got to where I am with Chris. But I love him. So I guess...Like mother like daughter" I breathed looking up at James. He nodded.

"You're exactly how I imagined you'd be" He breathed looking at me. I smiled and shook my head. "What does that mean?" I asked softly. He smiled. "A little bit of Clara and a little bit of me" He smiled. I looked down and smiled.

"Is it bad that I feel like a cheater all over again talking to you without Nate's knowledge?" I asked softly. James sighed. "Let me worry about Nate, he's my son. He can't be mad at me" He said placing his hand on my knee.

"You think he'll except this?" I asked softly. James face lightened. "You mean you want to have a relationship with me?" He asked softly.

I have no one else left. Doubt filled my mind.

I haven't had an adult speak with me in such love before. Hope clouded the doubt.

I nodded softly. "If you're open to it" I breathed motioning to him. He smiled before sitting up and pulling his arms around me. I smiled and let his embrace consume me.

"You're my daughter. I'd sail across the world for you" He breathed against me. I smiled as I hugged him back.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo

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ticktokrobotsnot · 4 months

Text

Recreational

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: Two chefs, one needs a distraction and the other needs anything but.

Word Count: ~11k

Notes: This one has been stuck in my drafts for almost 6 months, google docs was my editor so if you mention any grammar/spelling mistakes I'm gonna blame Google lol.

Y/n always had the idea that life never let her be too happy. And not to be unnecessarily pessimistic or ungrateful for the good things that happened in her life, but it was really only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. To be completely honest, if she was remotely better at anything else or something else paid more, she wouldn’t have been a chef. She thought her career as a chef was the universe having a good laugh at her, making her a part of a culture so deeply rooted in making connections which she couldn't reciprocate.

“They aren’t your friends.” The lesson was so deeply ingrained into y/n’s psyche that it was impossible for her to even spare a simple congratulatory smile after finding out her co-worker had won a James Beard award a few years prior or give that same co-worker a nod of approval when he retained a star. They were at best two instruments in the same tool kit, easily replaceable to the other, and y/n wasn’t going to offer an olive branch.

The French Laundry’s kitchen had perfected the skill to make even the best chefs throw their thousand dollar knife in a huff and quit on the spot. The head chef was a maestro of pushing buttons, ensuring a constant undercurrent of tension that never reached extreme highs because, in that kitchen, there was never a low.

That was before y/n was hired. There were chefs with better referrals, more experience, were more likable but there was something in her that put her above the rest, she didn’t crack.

She didn’t flinch when the head chef lowered himself to her level, still towering over her, and told her that she didn’t deserve to be there in the middle of a dinner rush on her first week.

Carmen kept his head down, anticipating the impending sobs and sniffles. However, as moments of silence stretched on, he resisted the unseen force compelling him to remain bowed. Slowly lifting his gaze, he noticed her studying the head chef as if extracting more from his irises than his words. Her eyes then swept over the rest of the staff before locking onto Carmen's. There, in that shared glance, he sensed her silent inquiry, a question of whether he, the second in command with a James Beard award and a Michelin star, was a coward.

He bowed down, focusing on the plate in front of him and pretending to wipe a nonexistent splatter.

The silence echoed while the rest of the chefs continued to slice, dice, and stir not sparing a glance, this was nothing new. When the head chef figured that she wouldn’t say anything back, he sauntered over to his next victim. Carmen lifted his head one more time, there was nothing he could do to comfort her if she was a mess but he already knew which chef would have to take over for her while she sobbed in the freezer. He was met with her side profile, she was smirking.

For a brief moment it felt like Carmen finally got a good look at her since she had been hired a week ago. It took a few moments for Carmen to decipher her expression. She was unimpressed with him, the head chef, and the kitchen. It wasn’t possible to be unimpressed and here she was looking at everyone like she was a parent listening to the squabbles of an irritable child, it was different.

She was a dangerous person because her small stunt inspired him to do something he had never done in the French Laundry, roll his eyes when the head chef left after his criticism. It was a small taste of delicious, slippery, freedom that was bound to kill him later. The day ended and Carmen didn’t even notice that he was walking up to her until he was right in front of her.

Y/n was expecting an apology and Carmen was expecting an opening to start talking, something had to give but it was too raw to do that here. After one more glance, Carmen started parting his lips but y/n slipped right past him and walked out.

They aren’t your friends.

Y/n had many aspirations growing up: pop-star, astronaut, scientist, and ice-cream vendor. As she got older the list matured, and consequently shortened. It didn't take much for her to enroll in culinary school, a decision made almost impulsively.

In the busy kitchen, amid clattering pots and the aromatic dance of ingredients, she watched chefs passionately invest themselves in each dish. She had heard stories from her colleagues, the heartfelt narratives that bound them to their culinary journey, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of shame that she couldn’t reciprocate. Her presence in the kitchen wasn't driven by sentimental attachments to food; she was here for a paycheck, a stark contrast to the fervor surrounding her. As she navigated the world of flavors and aromas, she grappled with the solitude of her own motivations, wondering if there was space for her in a profession driven by love, memories, and a deep connection to the culinary craft.

Unable to reciprocate the profound connections others sought, a sense of bitterness and unrest festered within her. Her internal conflict wasn't born out of disdain for those more accomplished; instead, it stemmed from a profound inability to fathom the emotional intricacies that seemed to drive others but couldn’t seem to reach her.

Y/n didn’t allow herself to confront a nuanced flaw—projecting her perception of routine loneliness onto the world, all while unconsciously imposing a self-isolation rooted in a complex interplay of guardedness and yearning for genuine connection. She kept herself busy by watching, judging, others in the hopes that eventually she would see something that clicked.

Y/n spent the next few years in relative ease even if every single soul in the French Laundry were a bunch of battered devotees, who regularly got verbally and emotionally beaten black and blue, but still came crawling back. It was almost humorous to watch all the chefs line up to leave and look like they just had their soul siphoned out from their puckered assholes.

Carmen felt like a cautionary tale to her, never getting too involved. He had crafted his own prison cell, a second in command with no real power, no life outside of work, and y/n bet he told himself that this was his peak. His self created pathetic life was so intensely interesting to y/n that she resisted asking about his life so she never made the same mistakes. But the way his focus scattered across the kitchen told her that he didn’t know why he was like this either.

He didn’t come to work on a Friday, which was a bit of a shock, and it rippled when she walked in on some janitor emptying his locker a few days later, and just like that, Carmen was gone from her life.

Months went by and by then y/n had completely forgotten about the chef that wasn’t strong enough until she saw browsing a food blog, and she found a name that she thought she would never see again. A post about a restaurant in Chicago that had served yet another "dish to die for". She refreshed the page a few more times, wondering if this was someone with a similar name but after a bit of sleuthing, a slightly blurry google review photo, it was undeniable, Carmen was indeed in Chicago.

They shared certain similarities—they had comparable resumes, education, and paychecks. Given the exorbitant rents in New York, it was likely that their living expenses were almost identical. They were both engulfed in the demanding world of cooking, leaving little time for anything else. Yet, despite these parallels, a puzzling question lingered: why did Carmen have the financial freedom to make a spontaneous departure, a luxury y/n had yearned for but couldn't grasp for years?

Y/n wished that she felt that pulling force, like seeing a familiar face after a long time bloomed an ache in her heart. She spent a few moments trying to will her heart string to pull but she was unsuccessful. She was looking for a reason to leave the French Laundry and she was hoping that Carmen’s scribble tattoos, wavy hair, nauseatingly blue eyes would make a path for her to escape, or at least reveal what gave him that final push.

She liked the restaurant that she used to work at, a local hotspot that was known for its penne alla vodka and other vaguely Italian dishes. Over there she was the hotshot young chef freshly graduating from the CIA and was leagues above anyone else. No one towered over her asking if she knew what she was doing, no one ever asked her if she remembered to stir the roux, or if she was an assistant. The only reason she left was because her student debt was closing in and she was exhausted from constantly debating if she should buy a replacement for her shitty knife or groceries for the month. Being poor was so tiring that y/n caved when someone came in with a job offer. As much as she hated the French Laundry it graced her with a different type of freedom, the freedom to not worry about if she could afford to survive.

She waited till The Beef closed to give them a call, and unsurprisingly someone picked up with a heavy sigh, “ We are closed.” and then hung up. Y/n dialed again, “I need to speak to Berzatto.”

“Yo Cousin, some chick is looking for you.” A muffled, we’re closed, was heard but y/n insisted.

“We worked together in the French L-.”

“She says she’s French or something.” And before y/n could correct, Carmen was handed the phone.

“The fuck do you mean French?” Still arguing with the guy with a gruff voice.

“Maybe it's a "pro" you sobbed in front of in France, you virgin. I don’t know your fucking life.”

“French Laundry.” Y/n interrupted and just like that Carmen was glued to the phone.

“Y/n?” Y/n ignored that he was able to recognize her voice even after all this time and how that made her almost soften her voice.

“I’m in Chicago for a few days, when can I stop by.”

“You want to come?" Carmen hastily recovered, "You can come when you can but we are doing some renovations and it's a mess-''

“I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon.” And with that y/n hung up and emailed HR that she would be out for the week because she was sick.

The Chicago air was unbearably similar to New York's and y/n was glad she didn’t have to spend too many miles on the same shitty city. And Carmen understated the “renovations”, it was a gut. The door scraped open dragging the paint cans that were leaning it. The door isn’t the working issue, it's the fact that the whole restaurant looked like it was on the verge of being classified as a collection of bare load bearing pillars and plastic tarp. Y/n was glad that she settled for sneakers because heels were begging for her to eat shit.

“Ms. New York!” The man with a gruff voice yells with laced hostility, alerting everyone.

The echoing music was promptly shot off as curious onlookers tried to decipher why an unknown woman was waddling through a battlefield of loose nails and scattered sawdust.

Y/n didn’t have to look long before Carmen came tumbling out the kitchen door, looking at her like she was glowing. Y/n wordlessly walked over to him and extended her hand and much to her shock the shake was firm, eager even, the last time they shook hands was when y/n had to take a photo with him 3 years ago for Gastronomica. Y/n was the first to slip her hand away, not remarking on his softened calluses, it seems like he hadn’t done much cooking lately.

Carmen ushered them towards the kitchen and held the door open for her, the room was empty and oddly quiet. They were holding the work outside so they could hear what they assumed would be confessions and passionate love making.

Carmen probably sensed it too because he took them to what looked like the skeletons of an office.

They both stood against the wall on completely opposite ends, their words would have to fill the gap. Carmen parted his lips a few times trying to formulate what he practiced last night but all the words seemed to die in his throat. His staggered inhale was followed by a soft, “What brings you here? I mean I’m glad you're here-”

“I wanted to know what you were up to.” Y/n twirled a strand of hair, looking into his eyes trying to relearn him again.

Carmen’s breath stalled as he fiddled with his apron to avoid eye contact. “I’m running this place now so-” Carmen’s eyebrows furrowed, “How did you know where I was?”

“I saw the restaurant in a blog and thought I would….” Y/n noticed him deflate, trying to figure out from disappointment or finally relaxing.

“I thought I would get something to eat but it seems like…” Y/n waved her hands at the bare walls, “That's not gonna happen.” She let out a soft chuckle but was a bit peeved that Carmen wasn’t doing anything but staring at her.

Y/n crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, Carmen sighed and thumped his head softly on the wall behind him. Being across from him, gave y/n a familiar view of Carmen at the end of shift, pitiful and enervated. Y/n didn’t fail to notice that his arms had gotten bigger.

“Manual labor suits you.” Carmen let out an embarrassed but bemused “ha” as he failed to stop his lips from curling up.

“Yeah, I have to do a lot by myself. Don’t exactly have the funds to be hiring a million contractors to do shit.”

“How do you afford all this?” Y/n lifted her gaze and tried to not look too eager.

"A ton of loans. We're barely holding it together," he admitted with a soft chuckle, passing some papers to y/n. As he continued, Carmen listed the financial burdens on his shoulders, payroll for the chefs, government permits, contractors, vendors, appliance suppliers,each itemized until it culminated in a big, fat, red zero that highlighted the crushing reality of y/n's shattered dreams. There was no money left; they couldn't afford to keep her. The devastating truth settled in, she couldn't afford to work here, and Carmen couldn't afford to save her.

Carmen walked over to the desk between them before plopping on his chair and balanced his head on his right fist as he looked up to y/n.

“What are you doing right now?” Carmen asked, the new view let him see more of y/n, which she didn’t know if she liked.

“I'm still at the French Laundry, it pays the bills, Carmen.” The air stilled and all the oxygen in his lungs contracted in his lungs as his name echoed in the otherwise silent room. He wasn’t Berzatto anymore. Y/n’s small smirk was enough of a reaction for Carmen to solidify that he had no clue about the women in front of him.

As she basked in the lull, she extended her leg to stretch them out to, noticing that it wouldn’t take much effort for her to put her foot on one of the legs of his chair and roll him closer. Y/n wasn’t without decency so she resisted messing with Carmen anymore. She was being stupid and immature, it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t help her, but a part of her still yearned to inflict some measure of discomfort on him.

“Enough about me…what have you been up to?” He was finally worth talking to, y/n thought. He would finally have something of value that she couldn’t get out of any other seasoned chef, a spark behind his eyes. Maybe there was something else that gave him the power to come here, something that could move her too.

“I'm taking over the restaurant from my brother and we are remodeling and shit to make it…a spot.” He realized how stupid he sounded when he said it outloud.

Y/n’s lips quivered downward, he was taking over a family obligation. He didn’t unlock any of the universe’s secrets that he could share with her, that would make the road ahead clear. He really couldn’t help her. The crushing feeling in her chest was worsened when he carelessly tossed out, “You could work here, ya know?”

A pile of bills at home dared her to throw caution to the wind and fail spectacularly. Y/n shut down any part of her that could have been swayed and diverted instead.

“What are you serving?”

“You would be head chef, y/n.” Carmen's intense gaze made her look at him in bewilderment.

“It’s not a good fit.” Y/n pressed with a self-assured chuckle.

“Syd would be number 2 and I can focus on the business shit-”

Y/n wasn’t going to justify his ridiculous proposition with a response, so she gave him a pointed look before asking a final time, “What are you serving?”

“Whatever I want.” His eyes focused on y/n’s, almost daring her to be enticed by the freedom.

Y/n's stomach somersaulted. The room around them seemed to close in as the weight of the unknown pressed against her. Y/n grappled with the question of what she had truly come for. The initial curiosity about his past now collided with the reality that the person standing before her was somehow a deity that had broken free from the shackles of depriving the self from freedom but also a mortal with dangerous arrogance that she couldn’t replicate.

“You finished the menu?”

Carmen nodded as his eyes wrinkled.

“Show me the menu.”

“You’ll see it on opening night.” Carmen leaned back in self-assurance.

“I won’t be back.” Y/n briskly asserted as she went back to twirling her hair and crossing her arms.

Y/n heard a chuckle and a soft, “Doubtful”. Just as she lifted her head to argue, the words were gone and so was Carmen, who was at the door now, holding it open for her.

“You're the worst, you know that?” She presented him with a vicious side eye. “I came all the way to the menu, you know.” That wasn’t remotely true.

“You can see the kitchen.” His hand hovered over the small of her back before catching himself and slipping his hand back down.

Carmen gave a run down on where the stove would go in relation with the expo, being mindful of speed but also spatial restriction. Y/n walked with him wondering if she would care enough about the minutia to organize a restaurant from the ground up like this. Her fingertips grazed the silver gas stove, teh cool metal brought back memories of working in LA. His expo covered in plastic wrap was the exact one she saw in her first internship. And most damning of all, Carmen specially picked out everything; so just like y/n, he had a story to tell with each piece.

His eyes shimmered as he talked about not beating his time around the kitchen yet, and y/n felt her stomach roll over as a wave of… something rolled over her.

Eventually, Carmen led her out to the front where she talked about table choices and the lighting to match, her eye’s glazed in wonderment wondering if the version of Carmen that cared about interior design was always a part of him or if it was a new development. Just as she was about to ask, Richie interrupted her.

“We’ve held it long enough, I think we would ALL love to know who you are.” He spread out his arms and nodded like a politician who was, “asking the real questions”. Y/n went from floating around the kitchen to being slammed shut in a bird cage.

“Ms. New York didn’t give it away?” Y/n replied, doing her best to ignore the nagging whispers in her head telling her she wasn't wanted here.

“Then why are you here?” He challenged right back, pointing an accusatory finger at her before migrating it to Carmen, “Why is she here?” The urge to run away tugged at her, to a place where it didn't matter if people liked her.

Carmen squinted his eyes before letting out an exasperated sigh, y/n could tell he was used to Richie’s machinations. Looks like the three of them didn’t know why y/n was here.

“Just ignore him, that's Tina..” pointing at an older woman who looked like she was just about to leave.

“..Nat” was buried in a binder but her head still shot up and smiled which y/n politely reciprocated.

“.. and Syd '', who looked pissed that y/n was here, y/n looked at her hands clasping a notebook. Recipes…a menu…y/n tucked her lips to hide her laugh, they didn’t have a menu to show and she had interrupted their brainstorming session. Y/n made a mental note that Carmen wrinkled his eyes when he lied.

“I was just in the neighborhood, and I'm just about to leave.” She walked towards the exit, not failing to notice that Carmen was in hot pursuit.

It didn’t take a genius to know he was going to offer her a ride so she beat him to it, “I’ve taken enough of your time.”

And just as Carmen was about to say something, Y/n hid her disappointment with a smirk, “I’ll let you get back to making that menu.” Y/n caught a quick glimpse of shock before the door swung open and she walked the Chicago streets wondering if she got what she was looking for.

This place wasn’t for her at all, and no amount of small town romance novels could convince her to leave her cushy job with a bunch of pompous clowns for a DIY restaurant. Her heart quickened as she allowed herself to be momentarily seduced by the idea, only to shatter any hopeful illusions with the harsh reality that Carmen couldn't rescue her from her financial nightmare. She needed a paycheck, a big one, and Carmen couldn't give it to her; he could barely afford the stove he wanted. It was almost cruel to give her a taste, let her acquire it, and then realize that she couldn’t have it.

Y/n went back to her hotel and had the difficult choice between watching Pawnshop or Diners, Drivers and Dives when she got a text message from an unknown number.

I’m off tomorrow, let me take you somewhere other than a construction site.

Y/n let herself have one last taste of freedom and dialed the number, “Who’s this?” she asked to tease Carmen.

She could hear Carmen’s grin loud and clear as he gave her a soft, “The worst person ever.”

Y/n laid flat on her bed and made herself forget that he didn’t have a backbone, that he ran away without a word like a coward, and (most damning to her) he couldn’t save her. She pushed the part of her that screamed that she should run away before they realized they didn’t fit because right now, she wasn’t talking to Berzatto. He was Carmen. He had dreams and aspirations that were bigger than him or maybe just as big as him. He was working hard and confident; everything else he wasn't in New York.

As she confirmed a good time for tomorrow, she sat up on her bed as she said her goodbye.

“Have a good night, Carmen.”

Y/n had trouble falling asleep that night.

The week had reached its end a lot quicker than y/n thought it would. Before she knew it she had repacked her life back into her suitcase and was sitting at her gate waiting for boarding to start.

Y/n had her legs propped up on her carry-on, balancing an egregiously priced coffee in one hand and a book in the other. It’s not like the book was any good, it was an autobiography about a famous chef who had died of cancer. She recalled her outing with Carmen a few days prior.

The pans that y/n had to use in her shitty old apartment were non-stick because she couldn’t afford the non-cancer kind till after she graduated from the CIA. She remembered joking with her classmates about it while they were learning how to take apart a chicken, and everyone gasped in disgust. Y/n gave a careless grin while hiding her warming cheeks and mentally punching herself for even saying that out loud.

Her birthday came around and all of her classmates pitched in for a set of pans, non-stick pans. She laughed with her friends, went home and invited them for dinner made entirely from the pans and watched as they ate their dishes, nodding in pretentious considerment, not knowing it was made on Teflon and wondered if this is how that guy who served his customers human meat felt.

Y/n told the story to Carmen during their lunch at a Korean restaurant and felt a surge run through her as he met her eyes and instead of laughing at what was meant to be a humorous story and mumbled, “That was shitty.”

Y/n’s lips parted as her eyebrows furrowed in anger and, more embarrassingly, shame.

Before she could defend herself, Carmen added, “I wouldn’t call those friends.”

He played with the condensation on his glass, y/n knew better to look down at him playing with the wetness with his pointer and thumb.

“That’s how it is there. How was your first week here?” Y/n sipped her soup.

“I lost my knife, found it beat up on the floor. I would have quit if I could.” Carmen gave a soft chuckle and y/n hated that she wanted to know more about him.

“Which knife?”

“It was the Yoshimi.”

Y/n quirked her lips up, “I remember when you first got it.” Carmen looked up quizzically.

“It was a shit show.” The head chef was not in a good mood and Carmen pulled up, with a pep in his step and a new knife, begging to be shot down. Honestly, y/n was surprised that Carmen didn’t kill anyone that day.

Y/n’s flight had started boarding so she threw all of her stuff in her bag while fishing for her passport. In her hustle she missed her phone vibrating till she was in her seat trying to catch her breath from shoving her overloaded carry-on in the ever shrinking compartment.

You got on yet?

Just sat down, TSA sucks ass, might have to start working out bc im winded rn.

Have a safe flight.

Y/n finally made it home and just as she was about to pass out, she quickly texted a picture of her exhausted face with a cringy thumbs up, she would regret that in the morning.

Y/n fell right back into her regular rhythm, with two new additions. She had started running in the morning. The other thing was a new pen pal, of sorts.

They tried texting more regularly for the first few weeks but their schedules were too different so they had simplified it to a photo every few days.

The Bear

Y/n got the photo on her train ride home after months of “talking”, a picture of a decal on the restaurant window, y/n didn’t miss Carmen’s furrowed eyebrows and grimace from having to be out in the sun to take the picture. His reflection exposed his paint stained t-shirt and y/n rubbed her eyes to check that his arms had in fact gotten bigger.

Y/n sent out the first actual text message in months, Why The Bear?

She saw the bubbles disappear and reappear a few time before settling on,

Come and find out

Y/n snickered and the women sitting next to her gave her a side eye as she got up to leave.

I don’t want to install appliances or check the plumbing for free.

Carmen texted back uncharacteristically fast, maybe they had shot down texting too soon.

“Don't want to” or “don’t know how to”?

Y/n squinted her eyes, he should believe her even if she was lying. She texted a middle finger back. You should be so lucky to see my trade skills in action, I could have been your contractor and it's sexist that you think otherwise.

I’ll settle with you coming by as a guest.

Y/n called him, it was a split second decision that she didn’t have time to regret. He picked up just as quickly as she called.

“I’m not coming back if you guys are still building shit.” Y/n asserted as she unlocked her front door.

“We finished that a while ago, now it's real shit this time.” There was faint rustling in the background and what y/n could decipher as yelling.

“Yeah?”

“We're missing some stuff, repair guys to call, and we still have some vendors to deal with but doors open in a few weeks.”

Y/n giggled, “Sounds like you're cutting it close, Carmen.” There was rustling heard on the other end, “You can probably get all that shit done with time to spare if you don’t get distracted.”

A laugh erupted from the other end, Richie’s.

“He’s plenty distracted, got himself a girlfriend.” Y/n stomach fell to her ass as she stood in her kitchen with her work bag still slung on her shoulders.

“Really?” she croaked out. Richie must have slapped Carmen on the back because she heard him slap Richie back.

“Ignore him. Doors open on the 1st.” The line stayed quiet for a second.

“I’ll see if I can make it, but you know it gets.” Y/n wasn’t going to make it, she was taking it out of the calendar right now.

A door closed on his end and the line was disconnected.

Before y/n could chuck her phone at her couch and sleep off her day, it rang again. Facetime.

Y/n picked up and was met with a new setting. Carmen noticed her slight confusion.

“New office, what do you think?” He propped his phone up and angled his body so she would see his fully stocked bookshelf. If y/n didn’t know any better she would have assumed that he was trying to impress her.

“Dewey Decimal?”

“Alphabetical.” He pulled out a book and showed her the self-made label on the bottom that proved that it was in fact in alphabetical order.

Y/n let herself be a bit difficult, “Your handwriting leaves something to be desired.”

Carmen covered his smirk with his tattooed hand before locking into her eyes,”Why don’t you come over and help me out?”

Y/n almost let herself fold before recollecting herself, “Unless you plan on working part time for our HR department, I don’t see that PTO being approved.”

“Sick days?”

“Why don’t you come back to New York. Wanna slice oranges for our tarte á l’orange? Maggie misses you.” Y/n was referring to the kitchen’s pastry chef who didn’t miss Carmen in the slightest.

“Are you opening a restaurant?” Y/n was a bit floored that she was getting sass from a man who put his jeans in an oven and shirts in kitchen cupboards.

“Are you? Looks like your team thinks you're distracted? If I didn’t know any better I would say you're calling me to distract yourself from calling the repair guy.”

“He can wait… tell me what I have to do to make this happen.”

“I took a week off, and we live in a capitalist hellscape so I already used up my PTO for the year. Don’t worry, I’ll make it to the next one.”

“You think I'm good enough to franchise.” Carmen ran his hands through his hair as he laughed and y/n cheeks warmed as his shirt slightly lifted as he leaned back.

“No, when this one fails and you have to make it another Mcdonalds.” Carmen gave her an adoring smile that made her wonder if he heard something else.

He put his right leg on his knee and spun in his chair, thinking.

“It’s better if I don’t come, what if your team hates me or worse they love me, force me to be their leader, and kick you to the sidelines.”

“I can be on the sidelines for you.” Y/n ignored the fluttering in her stomach.

“I’ll see…”She offered.

Carmen let out a sigh and y/n almost felt bad but the distance was good. They didn’t work together anymore, they texted irregularly, they barely were face to face, and it was working for them.

She was forgetting the man who froze like a battered dog when she was being shredded in the kitchen, and she could forgive him for being selfish because now he was too far away for it to affect her. Closing the gap risked her relearning why she didn’t get close to him in the first place.

His lips parted like he was constructing the words.

“What?” Y/n was just about ready to hang up and get ready for bed.

“I just…I don’t know. I thought that I could…you would see something different.”

“It’s a restaurant, I've seen plenty of those.”

“It’s different, I swear. I worked hard on shit and it's new and different. It's …better.” A chef analogizing his restaurant to represent himself was so unoriginal y/n would have laughed in their faces if it wasn’t Carmen.

“I’ll save you a table.” He offered.

“Looks like you’ve got a lot of tables to save.” Carmen quirked up his eyebrows.

“Your sister s, Sydney’s dad, Richie’s friends, me. Are there going to be any tables left for customers?”

“I need them all there, y/n.” He didn’t need to say her name but it still reverberated inside of her sending a shiver down her spine. In response, y/n felt a warm wave of relief wash over her, knowing that she couldn’t quite explain why that felt good to hear.

“I'm nobody.” Y/n squinted her eyebrows in doubt.

There's a hint of desperation in his voice, as if he's been searching for something that y/n couldn’t figure out, “You saw me in New York and here so you're the only person who can compare the two. I don’t have anyone like that left.” Carmen rounded his eyes in closeted adoration and y/n’s throat closed up.

“I’ll see what I can do but no promises. I have to go… don’t forget to call the fridge guy.”

Y/n was a strong independent woman who built her own furniture, threw out her own trash, and even back out by putting an arm around the passage seat headrest so when she got an email the next day with tickets to Chicago, her head began to swim.

Her phone buzzed, Meet me halfway.

Y/n left him on read and gave herself the freedom that Carmen had unknowingly denied her.

–

Birthdays were never y/n’s favorite holiday, she didn’t bother taking the day off and she stopped telling people since her CIA days, so she felt a little disgusted when grown adults would make a whole situation about this day. Celebrating birthdays in a restaurant was annoying for the kitchen but celebrating management’s family birthdays made y/n nearly quit every year.

It came around like clock work, just as she forgot about it, her boss's friend's (or whoever) birthday would roll around and she had to remind herself that the only reason she still had a job here was because she didn’t break down in hysterics and the only reason she stayed was because the bill wouldn’t stop just because she disliked her job.

It had already been a month since she and Carmen last spoke, they went back to curt messages. Y/n couldn’t help herself from texting back even though she knew better. The last message was a picture of Carmen in front of a finished kitchen, he puckered his lips to hide the full grin and seeing such joy, even if it was from a photo, was infecting every corner of her mind.

The week was just as difficult as it always was, and the last thing y/n wanted to do was a large dinner like this but it was like the universe wanted to beat her numb.

Y/n forgot to mention that the HVAC system had gone down for the afternoon and it was still over 100 degrees in the kitchen. As she chopped some chives, she ignored the expo coughing, and she walked over her collapsed body when expo inevitably passed out, to grab some more butter from the walk-in.

Y/n stole a glance from the corner of her eyes, they had no expo and a full house. Y/n puckered her lips in hidden contentment when the head chef practically roared and the unconscious women to get up and y/n swallowed a laugh when he had enough and started to manage the expo.

Y/n’s eyes darted to her left and finally felt that Carmen wasn’t working there. He had long been replaced, twice over, and y/n went back to her foie gras terrines trying to figure out why it even mattered now.

As orders were being barked and a rehearsed chorus of, “Chef” played back, y/n stalled her knife noticing that the pitch was off. It was missing the bass of a chef that had left just about everything to run away and was trying to convince her to do the same.

“WHERE THE HELL IS THE CONSOMME FOR 14?”

For the first time in years, y/n flinched. It wasn’t noticeable barring the fact that her little jump made her slice her finger. Her breath picked up as the blood pooled over the chives, she grabbed her cutting board and dumped the herbs in the trash and grabbed another board. She pressed the kitchen towel deeper into her finger, trying to remember where the first aid kit was from her orientation week.

Just as y/n was about to run to the stove to cauterize the wound herself so she could keep working, someone grabbed her arm and handed her a bandaid. She looked up to give them a silent thank you but they were gone. She hastily wrapped herself up and tried to lean inconspicuously on the counter because heat was getting to her too.

A few minutes later when by and y/n had fallen back to her usual rhythm even as a waiter walked in, she had learned to ignore waitstaff when they entered the kitchen because they never brought good news. Y/n could feel a piercing glare on her back.

“You sent out a Coq au Vin, chef?” Y/n didn’t have to look up to know he was talking to her but she still met his searing glare.

“15 minutes ago, chef.” Y/n resisted wiping the bead of sweat that was torturously grazing down her face.

He stared her down like he was waiting for her to admit that she had actually eaten it, she kept her nose high and bit her tongue to stifle the grimace that was forming.

“It's missing.” An ugly pause passed throughout the kitchen, she had almost convinced herself that she hadn’t actually finished it but the shift in his gaze brought her back to reality, he remembered her bringing it to him.

In the smelting kitchen, in her cramped corner, with her chef whites sticking to her, she almost let this pathetic man think he knew more than her.

The command echoed out of her before she could contain herself, “Refiring the coq au vin.”

A familiar chorus of, “Chef” was missing its usual thoughtlessness, y/n wasn’t supposed to do anything till the head chef told her, she had given herself a command, it was sacrilege.

Y/n was never a target, she watched as others were shot down time and time again, and moved on when she saw them break down crying in the middle of a dinner rush. The most she could give them was aloofness but as she stood in her corner, drowning in orders, and having every single one sent back from expo to redo, or having to wait longer for plates then everyone else and getting reamed for her dishes coming in late, she felt the weight of the kitchen’s gaze on her shoulders and wished someone one was there for her.

She kept her face composed as she finished up the last of her orders, her vision swaying from dehydration. Just as she was about to give into the weightlessness, the clock struck midnight and the kitchen was officially closed.

She did her best to walk to her locker, and sat on a chair with her head in her hands wondering how she was getting out the door, let alone go home. Her phone buzzed in her lap and knew that it was Carmen. His restaurant was opening tomorrow and she didn’t want to hear about it right now.

The rest of the chefs filed out, each giving her a glance that told her that she had finally been properly assimilated, just five years too late.

Carmen was giving her a taste of freedom in Chicago and that fleeting freedom was too seductive to ignore. The job offer echoed in y/n head, she wasn’t a good fit with them, she didn’t want a “work family”, but the temptation was poisoning her.

She opened the text, it was a simple picture of Carmen in his chef whites, he was practicing the “look” the day before the restaurant opened. He had even slicked his hair back with pomade like he used to in New York, and for the first time in months she laughed.

The sips of warm gatorade had sobered her up enough to walk out, just barely missing the head chef on her way out the door. She performed a blasphemous act in the back of the uber, she opened the email that Carmen had sent a month ago and checked the tickets date and time. Tomorrow morning, and like the universe was giving back after being shitty today, the French Laundry was closed for the next few days.

Y/n got home, ate two day old Thai food, sat on her couch astounded by her sheer audacity as she checked in for her flight. She was sure that Carmen would have gotten the confirmation email by now but he did her the service of not mentioning it.

Y/n packed a carry-on early in the morning and got to the airport, each checkpoint moving much faster than usual. The TSA didn’t make her take off her shoes, her gate was super close, and they had upgraded her to first class because a couple wanted to sit together. All the stars were pointing to Chicago…to Carmen and she tried not to think about how she was running away from her problems just like he did.

As she reached her hotel room, she hesitated to text Carmen. Nothing felt right to say, so she gave him the best thing right now, some space. She busied herself with getting ready and watching the shopping network.

As y/n approached the restaurant, she was a bit taken aback that the line was still so long. She stood next to an elderly couple who were talking about mortgage rates going down which meant that another housing bubble was bound to burst and the economy would be in shambles. Y/n tried not to think about how she couldn’t afford to lose her job right now because she had nowhere else to go.

No special treatment tonight, Carmen wouldn’t know when she got here so he could focus on his own work. She entered the restaurant and was relieved that the host and the waitstaff were new. She was led to her table and hesitated to pick up the menu. This was a long time coming and opening it felt so empty. It was like when she submitted her last assignment for highschool, alone on a Thursday night wondering why something so big wasn’t registering.

As she digested the menu, she let her fingers trace over the faux leather and the brown stitching. She wanted to know why he chose brown stitching, or why he stuck with Seven Fishes despite the fact that he must have made it a million times in the French Laundry? Why did he choose certain wines, or why was there a donut on the menu?

It's not like she hated the menu but a horrible thought dawned on her that all she wanted right now was for Carmen to sit across from her and talk about everything that she had missed. Every detail of this restaurant that reflected a better him, and how she had so much more to learn.

Her phone burned on her lap but she didn’t text him. Instead, she watched the people murmur about work and the food and y/n couldn’t help but hate herself for her self imposed loneliness.

Y/n did herself a disservice by coming towards the end of the shift so the crowd was thinning and her cover was close to being blown. Her dish arrived and she didn’t need to walk into the kitchen to know that Carmen made this, after years of taste testing his food, his flavor was ingrained in her DNA. Y/n finished her bucatini and felt compelled to order another despite being stuffed, just to swirl the flavor around her tongue for a bit longer. She ordered the aforementioned donut, paid and left.

She stood in the crisp Chicago air, a few steps from the restaurant, grappling with the audacity that led Carmen to abruptly leave the French Laundry. Immaturely, she couldn't help but wonder why he got to leave and she couldn’t. She knew why, but she let herself fester in the pain, it kept her alive.

She was used to being alone but for the first time in her life she yearned for someone to be there for her. She had isolated herself to such an extent that she knew that right now no one knew where she was or what she was doing, even Carmen couldn’t be sure that she actually went on the flight.

She could hear the last of the customers file out and the bussers clearing tables. She felt her phone vibrate and took a few breaths before she picked it up.

How was the bucatini?

Y/n lips waivered and a pit dug itself in her chest as she tried to compose herself, but she felt her eyes watering. This wasn’t fair, he wasn’t playing fair.

She hid her face in her hands, and tried to regain some of her dignity.

She stood there for what felt like a few seconds and felt someone stand next to her followed by the familiar sound of a lighter.

Y/n bit her lips shut and stared ahead, knowing that she was stronger than this.

“I didn’t take you for the donut type.” Carmen said in between puffs, he had changed into more casual clothes.

Y/n inhaled deeply through her nose and put her arms down, the night has hidden any trace of her vulnerability. “I wanted to try something different.” Y/n tried to put more power behind her voice but it came out too soft for her liking.

Carmen studied her profile and y/n knew better than to turn away, so she faced him. Her moist eyes turned his eyes into a kaleidoscope of silvers, blues and gold.

“How did you know I was in the restaurant?” Y/n was relieved that she was able to get it all out before her voice cracked.

A silence passed through them and y/n wished they were doing this somewhere more private.

He gave her a look, I know you.

The air hung heavy with tension as Y/n responded to Carmen's humored dismissive look. "You don't know shit,", a sardonic smile playing on her lips. She nonchalantly extended her hands toward Carmen's cigarette, a move that seemed almost too casual for the charged atmosphere. She was reaching out for the small remnants of warmth that she knew she would lose in a few hours, because right now and right here, he was there for her.

Their fingers brushed in the exchange, a subtle yet palpable connection that lingered in the air. It was a moment that could have easily been avoided, but neither of them seemed willing to retreat.

As the smoke curled around Y/n, she maintained a facade of cool composure, seemingly unfazed by the intimacy of the shared smoke. It was as if the brief touch and the exchange of breath and saliva meant nothing more to her than the inhale and exhale of the smoke itself. The proding sense of sadness thumping in the back of her head telling her that this couldn’t last, they couldn’t last.

“I liked the food.” Y/n returned the cigarette. “It's different…better.”

Carmen looked at her like he had a million questions that he wanted to ask and y/n wondered if she was giving him the same look.

She leaned back, “Don’t you have an alley or something? Smoking out front is so highschool.”

“Syd threw up in the alley.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow and wondered if this is how far they would go, she would have savored him for a moment longer if she knew it was going to end so soon.

Carmen stood straight and tilted his head so she would follow him.

“They cleaned up fast.” Y/n marveled at the vacant restaurant, the lights were dimmed and Carmen led her to the office.

“I think they wanted to get out of here before the last train left.” Carmen held the door open for her and the familiar heat of his hand hovering over the small of her back was a welcomed surprise.

Despite the practicality of the situation, the impending departure and the need for a clean, cold goodbye, there was a lingering question of whether she could maintain that distance. Carmen's proximity, the heat of his touch, and the shared space was going to make it challenging to stick with a clinical farewell.

The door clicked shut and y/n let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Do your worst. I can take it, y/n.” Carmen sighed, y/n’s stomach fluttered and she dug her nails into her palms to compose herself.

“Service was good, the waiter filled up my cup when it was halfway. The silverware was clean and rolled tight. Points off because my fork was from a different manufacturer from the rest of the dinnerware.” Y/n saw Carmen clench up for a second before nodding in concentration. It felt as if each syllable was being burned into his memory and the intensity of his gaze was making her sweat.

She gave herself the satisfaction of sitting because her feet were killing her and Carmen sat on the floor, leaning against the wall.

“The saltiness of the guanciale harmonizes with the richness of the eggs and the sharpness of the Pecorino Romano. The dish was velvety but delicate. The guanciale provides a necessary contrast in texture. Simple but precise. I think…I know that it was the best thing I’ve had in a while, chef.”

Yn was met with a humming silence.

“We can do this tomorrow, I know you had a long day.” Y/n offered.

“No…” He shook his head and his eyes were distant before landing on her’s, the severity behind them had made her sit back, “I want to hear what you have to say.”

She extended her legs towards Carmen, “You see these, chef?” Carmen hesitated to look forward like he was in the middle century and ankles were scandalous before gazing at her soft legs.

“They hurt like a motherfucker.” She flexed the back of her heel to show the blisters that had formed. “I gotta take care of this back in the hotel.”

Carmen slowly shifted his gaze from her legs to her face before wordlessly getting up and walking out. Y/n rubbed her temple and allowed herself to be selfish once more by downing Carmen’s abandoned sugar free Redbull left on the desk.

As she collected her stuff to get back to the hotel, Carmen returned with ice and first aid.

He placed everything on the floor so slowly that y/n could only assume that he was stalling.

Carmen looked up at her with his bright, almost silver, eyes and his eyes asked, Can I help you? Can I be there for you like you were here for me today?

It was like time had stopped as y/n struggled to bring oxygen to her lungs. She mindlessly nodded yes and the first touch made her heart thump against her chest. His hands were scorching against her skin and every lingering touch imprinted its memory on to her. As he iced the swelling and followed it by placing his warm hand to ease the shock in temperature, it became hard for y/n to focus.

Carmen did her the courtesy of abandoning the ice pack. She took a hollow and staggered breath, “Ask me anything.”

Carmen looked up from her, she hadn’t noticed that he had removed her heels, and asked her about every minor detail about her experience. He wasn’t aware that he was softly rubbing his thumb across her ankle, and y/n couldn't seem to move on from it.

When y/n finished her summary, Carmen’s fingers seized dancing across her skin and she regretted not talking for longer.

He didn’t let his hand leave her even as he asked, “How is work?”

Y/n grunted out in dismay and she leaned back and would have fallen backwards if Carmen hadn’t grabbed the seat between her legs. They both stared at his hand before Carmen quickly pulled back, y/n mumbled a quick thanks.

“It’s great.” Y/n sarcastically pushed.

Carmen quirked up his eyebrows in a sarcastic manner and y/n ignored him.

“It was Henry’s birthday.” Carmen hummed in understanding, birthdays were always a mess.

“You wouldn’t guess who was doing the expo yesterday.”

“I have an idea.” Y/n couldn’t deny that his smirk sent her spinning. He understood the fiber of that world so well even though he was hundreds of miles away, and she was barely hanging on to a tread.

Carmen continued, “Feel bad for the poor bastard who was his punching bag for the night.”

Y/n swallowed the burning lump in the back of her throat and kept her gaze relaxed and gave him a soft, “Yeah.”

The silence was making y/n uncomfortable so she mustered her remaining energy to give him a relaxed smile.

Carmen’s face didn’t give anything away, “How bad was he?”

“I'm here, aren’t I?” Y/n chuckled humorlessly.

“I know you're strong but I was being serious, y'know…about the job.” Carmen asserted.

Y/n softened her eyes, he was making this so much harder for her. “Noted, chef. Why Chicago?” Y/n diverted.

“Inherited the restaurant from my brother and I had to deal with it. He killed himself.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up-”

“It’s fine, I was going to have to tell you anyway.” Y/n didn’t have to know anything, she was no one and she didn’t deserve his trust. “It was a sandwich place before we renovated it.”

Y/n laughed in disbelief, “You made sandwiches? They sell truffles in Chicago?”

Carmen smirked as he went back to mindlessly rubbing her ankle again. “Regular sandwiches.”

Y/n widened her eyes and couldn’t hold her laughter in, “Pictures or it didn’t happen.”

Carmen fished out his phone and showed her pictures of a messier restaurant.

“I get why you had to gut the place.”

“It's not that bad.” He asked humorously.

“What you have right now is more your style, I like this version better.” Y/n heart skipped a beat when his hand shifted a bit higher up her leg.

“I love the look though,” Y/n squinted at a picture of Carmen standing behind a counter at what looked like a bachelor party.

“What look?”

“You know, the rugged, tired look.” Carmen rolled his eyes. “No seriously, I didn’t even know you had so much ink.” Y/n zoomed in on a tattoo of some numbers on his biceps.

“I'll show you all of them later.” Y/n let out a laugh as she handed back the phone. She wondered if she was hiding her nerves well.

"You spend all your time at work, when do you find the time to sit in a tattoo shop?"

"Prioritizing important shit, I guess."

"If you can prioritize getting tattoos and running a restaurant, when do you have time for your girlfriend?" Subtle, passive, non-probing was what y/n was going for. She forced herself to watch his reaction.

Carmen gave a puzzled look, his scrunched up eyebrows and distant look was accompanied with a quiet, "Don't have one."

Y/n gave a casual "Hmm…you sure? Seems like you got time to kill, always so relaxed." Carmen curled his lips up and bit his lips to stifle his smile. His lips turned pale pink before returning to rose red and y/n wanted to reach down and run her pointer finger along his lips to feel his heat.

"When I have the time. The restaurant is new and I need-"

"I thought you said you knew how to prioritize?" Y/n leaned back and rested her cheek on her fist.

"Maybe if she's really special."

"And not distracting." Y/n added.

"Then I can prioritize." Carmen adjusted his posture before asking y/n.

"What about you?"

"I am a realistic romantic, so love is real but just not for me. I don't have it in me to text everyday or go to family dinners. But who knows, Mr. Right might make me less shitty and more sunshine and rainbows. "

"Your personality is fine right now." Carmen offered.

Y/n jokingly scoffed before adding, "Then maybe I just need someone to distract from my own problems."

They sat in comfortable silence, but y/n’s eyes widened as she checked the clock, “It’s late.”

“It’s only one.” Y/n gave him a look of disapproval before nudging her foot against his stomach, where it had been resting for the past hour.

“Go home, Carmen.” Carmen wordlessly picked up her heels and slipped them back on to her feet. He stood up and offered his hand.

They walked out the restaurant and y/n pulled out her phone to call a taxi.

“I can drive you.”

Y/n looked over her shoulder at Carmen checking the locks.

“If you drive me, you won't be getting any sleep.” A pause passed through them.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Y/n rushed out.

Carmen cleared his throat, preserved her dignity by not saying anything else and led her to the car.

“You know these things will kill you.” Y/n lifted a Red Bull from the cup holder and cracked it open and took a few healthy sips.

Carmen wordlessly slipped the can out of her hands at a red light, “I need it more than you.” He looked down at the lipstick mark and took a few savored sips. At the next light, y/n could see the remnants of red lipstick on his bottom lip.

They reached y/n’s hotel too fast for each other's liking. Y/n swiveled her head, Carmen was already looking at her. She was fighting heavy lids a few minutes ago but now she was sprung with energy.

Y/n looked up in feinted innocence before casually offering, “You want to come up for some tea?” The kettle in her room didn’t work, she checked this morning.

Carmen blinked a few times, wondering if he heard her right, before slowly nodding his head like he wasn’t sure it was a joke.

She unlocked her room door for the both of them and Carmen shut it behind him. With a cautious gesture, y/n extended her hand, placing it close to Carmen's body. The darkness clung to Carmen's form as y/n's fingers grazed his side, a brief but intimate contact that went unnoticed in the dimly lit corridor, to check if the door was locked.

Carmen walked over to the office chair in the corner. Y/n room was so cramped that she was still within arms distance of him as she sat on the foot of her bed.

“The Bear?” Y/n’s inquisitive gaze and playful smile made Carmen’s heart stutter as he nearly forgot what The Bear was, or what his name was.

He cleared his throat, “Berzatto…Bear. It was a nick-name my brother gave me.”

Y/n leaned in a bit closer as she scoffed, “Even the name is good. I kinda hate you a bit more.” She bit her bottom lip to stifle the laugh but was pleasantly surprised that he was bouncing from her eyes to her lips.

He parted his lips to formulate a coherent sentence but y/n extended her heels to the legs of Carmen’s chair and pulled him closer. The look of his thoughts scrambling right in front of her was making it difficult for her to be restrained and poised. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

His grip on the arms of the chair was telling her that she was headed in the right direction. She kept her hold on Carmen’s chair, as she softly assured, “I have to go back soon, so I’m trying to soak it all in right now.”

“You're leaving?” Carmen mumbled, sharing his attention between her eyes, lips, and her leg. He let his legs relax, which made them meet with y/n’s legs.

“I hate Chicago.” Y/n leaned back. “And I don’t really belong here. My whole life is in New York, and I don’t want to change everything just for-.”

“Come work for me-”

A swift pang of anger rippled through her, he didn’t need her. “You’ve got your plate full, you don't need a distraction.”

“But you do.” Carmen placed a warm hand on her thigh and the heat made her breath heavy, y/n knew where this was going but she wanted it to last as long as it could because she knew that once the sun rose, they were done.

“It’s going to be messy.”

“It won't be.”

The room held its breath as they teetered on the edge of something undefined. The impending dawn loomed, casting a shadow on the delicate illusion they had woven. “I don’t want something serious.” Y/n argued.

“And I dont have the time for something serious.” As Carmen leaned forward, pushing his hands high up her thigh.

As y/n searched for any other reason no to do this, Carmen’s cerulean eye’s hazed with lust seemed to have the opposite effect. Any reservations, logic, or inhibitions that could have prompted her to stop were forcefully pushed away amidst the intoxicating allure of Carmen.

Y/n didn’t know who leaned in first but it didn’t take much time for both of them to topple in the bed. In between huffs and shirts flying off each other Carmen whispered into her lips, “Just pretend it’s real tonight.”

Y/n reeled her head back a second, but Carmen's intense gaze and his trailing hand convinced her otherwise. She leaned back in, hooking her legs around his waist pulling him closer.

Carmen stalled his kisses down the column of her throat, “I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” Y/n twisted her hips and in a flash she was straddling him.

She sensed the subtle shiver that ran through him, his unsteady hands finding a resting place on her hips, torn between the desire to reciprocate from below and allowing her to continue her torture. Taking charge, she decided for both of them, lowering herself down to grind against his jeans.

Carmen’s mind went blank and the last thing he saw before he lost all sense of restraint and reason, was y/n’s eyes sparkling.

You can read more of my stuff here

End Notes:

I love reading your comments, and that's what motivated me to finish, so share your thoughts bc I want to hear them.

I currently have like 10 half baked drafts and they all suck so this was the sole survivor. This one is kinda self indulgent because I hate my job so much but sometimes no matter how much something makes you miserable, there isn’t a way out, so you have to find something to distract yourself from the dull pain.

I tried to keep it as realistically healthy as a relationship with Carmen can be because that man just needs some space to grow. Honestly, I'm not sure if they'll ever meet again, or maybe they might meet up more now. Im really not sure.

639 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

Hey!! I saw your posts about colour blind!reader and reader with hearing problems and i really love them, I have to wear hearing aids myself so it is really lovely to see some representation!! So I was wondering if you could do remus x reader (or any marauder i don't mind) where the readers hearing aids broke and remus has to help them communicate for the day while they wait to get them fixed? If you aren't comfortable with that don't worry<33

I'm so glad you liked them sweetness, thanks for requesting! Unfortunately I don't have anyone in my life who uses hearing aids that I could consult about this, so I had to rely on the internet and apologize for any inaccuracies <33

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 653 words

“Moony,” James says, cocking his head at you inside Remus’ car. You’re sitting placidly in the passenger seat while the car trembles with bass. “What’s she doing?”

“She likes the vibrations,” Remus replies, carrying a giant tupperware container of chili. Ever since he moved in with Lily, James has taken to “accidentally” making too much of nearly every meal they have so that his friends are forced to come over and take home leftovers. (“I thought the recipe was supposed to be tripled,” James had said over the phone. “You’ve gotta take some off my hands, Moony, it’s gonna go bad.”)

“She’s gonna be shaking the whole block if she turns that up any louder,” Sirius says, following them out of the house. “How can she stand it?”

“Hearing aids broke yesterday,” Remus explains, opening the passenger door. James flinches at the sound that bursts out, and Remus hands you the chili before reaching around you to turn down the dial on the radio. “We’re waiting for the shop to call so we can pick them up,” he finishes.

You wave at the boys, and they wave back with smiles somewhat bemused.

“How bad is her hearing without them?” James asks concernedly.

You go to respond, having read the question on his lips, but Remus sets a hand on your shoulder.

Hold on, he signs to you. This will be more fun.

You roll your eyes, but play along with his game, letting Remus speak for you as if you can’t do it yourself.

“She can’t hear much of anything,” Remus says. It’s the honest truth, though he neglects to mention that you’re still perfectly capable of speaking and also quite skilled at reading lips even without the aids. “Some loud noises or things with a deep pitch, but not enough to make out speech.”

“Huh,” James says. “Well, tell her I hope she enjoys the chili.”

This is great, Remus signs to you. I never get to practice.

You’re mean, you sign back, even as your lips twitch at the corners.

“She says she’s sure she will,” Remus says. “Thanks for saving us some.”

James grins. “No problem.”

“If she really likes vibrations, she should come take a ride on my bike sometime,” Sirius suggests, and he’s smiling, because he knows exactly how Remus will feel about that offer. Remus hates the idea of even Sirius, let alone you, on a motorcycle. “Tell ‘er, Moons.”

You’re already looking at Remus with a mischievous smile.

No way, he tells you. Not happening.

Buzzkill, you fingerspell.

Remus shrugs, and he doesn’t need to sign anything for you to read and what about it? in his expression.

“Ooh, they’re fighting,” Sirius deduces, laughing darkly. “This sign language stuff isn’t so hard to pick up on, is it Prongs? You can get the general meaning from their faces.”

Remus plasters on a smile. Not hard? I’ve been learning for two years, he vents to you.

You give a little laugh. Don’t listen, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. But at least tell him I said thanks for the offer.

Remus turns to Sirius. “She says fuck you.”

You make a sound of offense, slapping Remus’ arm lightly.

“Okay, okay,” he relents. “She said thank you for the offer. But no.”

“It’s crazy,” James says with a little smile. “Everything you’re claiming she says sounds exactly like what you would say if you could choose, Moony.” He glances at you, and you raise your eyebrows like I know, right?

“Alright, we’d better be off,” Remus decides, shutting your door for you and rounding the front of the car. “Thanks for the chili, Prongs. And Pads, your bike is banned to her, so don’t offer again.”

“Buzzkill,” Sirius calls after him, but Remus pretends not to hear, shutting his door.

“Hey,” you say, your voice a bit louder than you’d usually allow. You’re grinning at Remus. “That’s exactly what I said!”

741 notes · View notes

once-upon-an-imagine · 6 months

Text

Lover - Sirius Black

A/N: ahh! well here it is, a very long one-shot. I'm not sure how, this started off kind of sweet, then it got angsty and then it got funny but I still hope you like it!

Request - Anonymous asked: Hey love! Hope you're doing okay! I wanna start off by saying I love all of your Sirius Black fics so much! They're so fun to read and always make me happy! Secondly I love the whole Potter!reader thing cause I absolutely love James and have always wanted a brother like him. Idk if you're taking requests but if you are I was wondering if you'd do a Sirius x reader where the reader is a Hufflepuff and is the opposite of Sirius and he's like absolutely whipped but the reader is James' little sister ( a year younger maybe cause I love age gaps lol) so yeah sirius is like shitting scared cause he thinks James would hate him forever and all angsty but then James is like dude I knew since like the day I introduced you guys and all happy ending lol. Sorry if it's too detailed. I completely understand if you don't wanna write it tho. Have a nice day!

Warnings: mentions of Sirius' family situation, like I said it got a bit too angsty for a moment there but I think that's it let me know if I missed anything though!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :D gif isn’t mine :)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

You kept walking back and forth in your room. You couldn't sleep. You hadn't been able to sleep earlier tonight, but now it was even worse. When you walked into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea you did not expect to find Sirius Black, barely being able to stand as he held on to the kitchen counter. You felt your entire body shaking when you noticed the bruises and blood all over him. But, when he looked at you, your heart broke into a million pieces, that's when you felt like you were going to be sick. He was crying and he looked haunted. You had never seen Sirius like this. He tried to say your name before he collapsed so you quickly walked over to him to hold him up and you yelled for your brother. It wasn't even five minutes before James came running downstairs with your parents following him. And now, here you were, waiting for James to come tell you what happened. Sirius wasn't talking, so if there was a remote possibility that he would, it would be with James. And your parents were helping him so, at some point, you were asked to leave. But James knew you wouldn't go to sleep until you knew Sirius was okay.

"Hey, bug" you turned around when James opened your door.

"Hi" you said, finally sitting on the bench by your window and James joined you. "H-how is he?" you asked nervously. You could tell James had been crying as well.

"He's gonna be okay" he assured you. "I knew you wouldn't go to sleep until I told you that" he smiled. "He's gonna be staying with us now" he explained.

"Good" you nodded. "I'm glad he doesn't have to go back there" you said. You knew about Sirius' home situation. He had talked to you about it a few times, but you had never imagined it was this bad.

"Me too" James smiled at you.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, bug" he frowned.

"You know it's okay if you're not, right?" you insisted.

"It's just... hard seeing him like this" he admitted, shedding a few tears. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.

"You're a good brother, Jamie" you said as you felt him hug you back. "That's why he came here" you told him.

"Thanks, bug" he said, kissing the side of your head. You were about to pull away but you felt James arms tightening a little and you knew he needed more time.

"You should try to get some sleep" you told him.

"You too" he said, getting up. When he was at the door, he looked back at you with a weary smile. "I love you, bug."

"I love you too, Jamie" you smiled before he left, closing the door behind you.

You sighed, thinking that it was best if you also got some sleep since it was almost three in the morning, but you heard something in the room next to you. You knew Sirius would most likely not be able to sleep. So, you went downstairs again to make some tea. But not for you. You knew that Sirius might not want to talk right now, especially with you. So, you just wanted to do something nice and feel a little helpful. You walked quietly to his room and saw that the light was still on, so you were not waking him up. You knocked lightly but got no response, so you opened the room slowly. It was empty, and the bathroom door was closed. You didn't want to cross any lines so you placed the tea on his nightstand and left.

And that's how it started. You did the same thing the following night. This time, when you knocked on his door, Sirius opened it and smiled sweetly at you. He had a feeling it was you the previous night. He was still very quiet, which was unusual for him, but you still offered him the tea.

"I just... thought it might help you sleep" you smiled nervously.

"Thanks, Bambi" he said, grabbing it from you, making you chuckle a little. He had always called you that and, it annoyed you at first, but now you kind of liked it.

"Good night, Siri" you said, walking over to the next door.

"Night, love" he whispered to himself going inside his room.

This kept happening for the following weeks. You slowly saw Sirius coming back to his old self. Your mum had asked you to help redecorate his room so he would feel more at home and you noticed his eyes watering a little when your mum showed it to him. James told him that Remus and Peter would be arriving in a few weeks and that also seemed to lift his spirits up. But if Sirius was being honest with himself, his favorite part of living at the Potters was whenever you brought him tea. It was a small act of kindness on your part but it meant the world to him. He knew you sometimes had trouble sleeping and you were worried that he was experiencing that too, and that warmed his heart. Which is why, one night he opened the door before you could even knock. He stood there on the other side and smiled sweetly at you.

"Oh- s-sorry, I was um-"

"It's okay, love" he chuckled. "How come you never bring one for yourself?" he asked, confused as he grabbed the tea from you.

"Oh" you said, a little taken aback. "I usually drink mine downstairs" you explained.

"Well, would you maybe like to have your tea with me tomorrow?" he smiled sweetly at you.

"Really?" you asked, feeling a little nervous. "I m-mean, yeah, sure, I'd love that" you nodded.

"Cool, see you tomorrow, Bambi" he said, kissing your cheek before you both said good night.

And you did. Every night for the rest of the summer, after James went to sleep, and the rest of the Marauders, once they arrived, you brought tea for Sirius and the two of you spent hours talking. Little by little, you saw him going back to his old self. He smiled more. He laughed more. He didn't seem jumpy or gloomy anymore. One night, you fell asleep and he didn't have it in him to bring you to your room. He liked your company and he felt a lot better when you were around, so he didn't. But a few hours later, you were woken up by his screaming. It broke your heart to see him so terrified by his nightmares, but it got Sirius to open up to you. He felt more comfortable around you with each passing week, until one night, he finally kissed you.

You would have been lying if you said you didn't have a slight crush on Sirius Black. Because he was Sirius Black. Everyone had a crush on him and you were no exception. And in the weeks since he had moved in, you got to know him even more and you felt your crush growing. So, when he kissed you, you were over the moon. That's how it started. This whole thing between the two of you. You both decided to keep it secret for a while. And you couldn't deny that it was even exciting at first. The stolen glances between you, the way Sirius would always sit next to you at meals and hold your hand under the table. Brief moments where he would excuse himself from the other Marauders just to go to your room to steal a quick kiss from you.

But now, that you were back at Hogwarts, being in different years and houses, it made it increasingly difficult to keep your relationship a secret. You knew Sirius was anxious about James' reaction to your relationship, but you didn't think it would be such a big deal, as to practically have your relationship back to before you two got together. Making moments like this extremely rare.

"Merlin, I've missed you" Sirius smiled as the two of you laid on his bed, kissing, with music in the background.

"I've missed you too" you smiled before he pulled you in for another kiss. "It's been such a long week" you complained.

"It's only Tuesday" he laughed.

"I know" you pouted and he kissed you once more. "But we barely got to see each other this past weekend and classes have been crazy and I just-"

Sirius interrupted you with another kiss. "I know, love" he said, placing his hand on your cheek. "But it's a Hogsmeade weekend" he smiled. "Maybe we can go?"

"R-really?" you asked, feeling excited. Because of all the sneaking around, you two didn't even have a first date.

"Yeah, I think we're all gonna go, so you can come with us" he suggested, making your smile drop.

"Oh- um, y-yeah, sure" you smiled again, but, of course, Sirius noticed it was different.

"What?" he frowned, sitting up.

"N-nothing" you tried to assure him.

"Love, you're a terrible liar" he insisted. "I know when something's bothering you" he said pulling you with him.

"Nothing, I just..." you sighed. The two of you never really established what this was and you didn't want to make it a bigger deal than it was. "I'm not sure if I have a Potions exam on Monday" you covered up.

"Oh" he replied before smiling again. "Well, in that case" he said, leaning in for another kiss. "Maybe I can stay back and help you study" he smirked, kissing you again.

"You don't have to do that" you chuckled.

"Oh, I wouldn't mind, sweetheart" he said as his kisses started making his way down your neck. "I wouldn't mind at all" he said between kisses and making your smile appear again.

It was short-lived, however, because the two of you heard the door opening and Sirius quickly pushed you off him, making you fall off his bed.

"Bloody hell!"

"Sirius!" you complained when you hit your head with his nightstand.

"Moony! What the fuck!" Sirius said, looking at his friend standing at the entrance of his dorm.

"What? Just be glad it was me and not Prongs" he rolled his eyes, closing the door and tossing his bag on his bed.

"I'm so sorry, love" he said, getting up to help you. "Are you okay-?"

"No, of course I'm not okay" you glared at him. "You pushed me and I hit my head!"

"I'm sorry, love. I thought it was Prongs-"

"What difference does that make, Sirius" you asked, grabbing your shirt and putting it back on. "We're both half-naked, in your bed, do you honestly think James would have thought nothing was going on? I know he's daft but give him some credit!"

"I panicked, okay! Moony said he would be out until dinner" he said, glaring at Remus.

"It is almost dinner" he defended himself. "And this wouldn't have happened if you just told Prongs already. What is he gonna do? Kill you?"

"Moony, could you please get out?" Sirius glared at his friend again making Remus sigh in frustration.

"Fine, I'll leave-"

"No, don't worry, Remus. I'll leave" you said as you finished fixing yourself up.

"What? Why are you leaving?" Sirius said, pulling you to him.

"I don't know, Sirius, maybe because I don't want to stay here until my brother comes in and you push me again so I hit my head!"

"That was an accident! I just-"

"I know. You don't want James to know about us" you rolled your eyes. "What's the big deal? Remus knows!" you said, pointing at him.

"Remus is not your brother. Trust me, love. I will tell him, I promise I just... need more time" he begged, making you sigh in defeat.

"Fine" you said, grabbing your bag. "I'm still gonna go" you said, quietly.

"Love-"

"No, it's fine" you said with a weary smile. "If it's almost dinner time, that means Jamie's practice is over" you said. "I'll see you both later" you said, leaving and closing the door behind you before Sirius could stop you again.

"I fucked up, didn't I?" Sirius asked out loud.

"Oh, good. You didn't neet me to tell you" Remus smirked a little.

"Moony, I'm not joking-!"

"Neither am I, Pads" Remus said as Sirius put his shirt back on. "You're gonna fuck things up if you keep doing this. And the longer you wait-"

"I know, the worst it will be with Prongs" Sirius sighed frustrated.

"Prongs? You're more worried about what James will say than being disrespectful to your girlfriend?"

"Whoa, that's a big word, Moony" he chuckled nervously. "Bambi's not my-" he stopped as Remus glared at him. "I mean we haven't really-" he sighed. "Ugh, I'm fucking this up, aren't I?" he said, throwing himself on his bed.

"You know, sometimes you're more perceptive than I give you credit for" Remus replied.

"Moony!" Sirius complained, sitting up. "It's not funny! I don't know what to do!"

"Why are you so afraid of telling James about the two of you?"

"Are you joking? You know I don't have the best reputation about dating and if he finds out that I'm dating his little sister he's going to kill me!"

"I honestly don't think he would" Remus tried to reason to him. "I mean, we've all seen how much you've changed this past year" he continued. "And James hasn't seen it but I've seen the way the two of you are together. It's different" he explained. "But you're going to fuck it all up if you keep making her feel this way" he said.

"What way?"

"As if you don't want to be seen with her. As if your relationship isn't serious. And as if you care more about what James says than hurting her feelings" he indicated.

Sirius opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out so he threw himself back on his bed. Maybe Remus was right. Maybe he needed to get this over with and just tell James before it was too late.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The next day, you were coming out of your Charms class and you were still in a foul mood. You loved Sirius, you knew that much. And whenever you were with him, you felt like he might love you too. But all of this hiding and sneaking around made your insecurities get the best of you and wonder if he was as Sirius about this as you were. You understood that he was nervous about telling James, but you kept insisting nothing would happen so, maybe it wasn't just that.

Your thoughts were shut down when you noticed a small crumpled parchment in your bag while you were putting your book away. You opened it and saw one of Sirius' doodles and it made you smile. He did this from time to time. He left little notes hidden in your books and your bag. This one was a small doodle of him holding up a flower and apologizing for being an idiot, asking you to meet him after lunch so the two of you could talk.

"Hey, bug!" you heard your brother walking your way and you put your small doodle back in your bag.

"Hi, Jamie" you smiled at your big brother.

"You going to lunch?"

"Yeah" you replied before you heard your name being called.

"Hey" you turned around to see your housemate and classmate speeding your way. "Oh, hi, James" she smiled. "It's the Potters" she greeted.

"Hi Emmeline" you smiled back at your friend.

"Hey" she smiled. "I won't keep you long, I just wanted to ask you something" she told you. "Oh, and now that your brother's here I guess I can ask him too" she told you.

"Sure, Em, what do you need?" you asked your friend.

"You're really close with Sirius Black, aren't you?" she asked, making your heart drop for a moment. You could tell where this was going.

"She's not as close to him as I am" James smirked. "Why the interest, love?"

"Well, I was just... wondering if... he's single?" she asked smiling as you felt your entire heart shatter. What were you supposed to say now?

"Yes, of course, he is" James answered before you could say something.

"Really? I wasn't sure because you seem really close to him and I didn't want to cross any lines if you two were dating or anything-" she said looking at you. But, again, your brother intervened.

"With her?" he laughed a little too loud to your liking. "Sirius dating my sister? You're joking right, they're just friends" he insisted.

"Oh, that's a relief" she sighed while you remained with your mouth open but nothing was coming out. "So, could you maybe... find out for me if he might be interested?"

"I- uh-" you tried to make sense of this whole thing. "Y-you want me to f-find out if Sirius likes you?"

"Yeah" she chuckled. "We've sort of been flirting back and forth, and since it's a Hogsmeade weekend, I though-"

"Y-you've been flirting back and forth" you said, letting out a bitter chuckle and feeling as if someone was stabbing your heart repeatedly. "With Sirius-?"

"Well, that's a grand idea, Emmeline" James kept interrupting. "Maybe we can have a double date" he suggested.

"What's on your mind, Potter?"

"Well, I happen to know you do some of your prefect rounds with Lily" he smirked. "Put in a good word for me and I put in a good word for you?"

"Really?" Emmeline asked, excitedly.

"Really" James nodded.

"Alright, Potter. You've got yourself a deal" she smiled. "But only if you agree to find out if I have a chance first" she said, turning back to you.

"I um-" you stuttered. "S-so, you want me to find out if Sirius likes you-?"

"Yes, please, will you? Is not too much trouble, is it?" she asked.

"Uh-"

"Of course, not, love!" James waved you off. "We'll definitely have the information in a few hours. I mean, we're just on our way to have lunch with Sirius, right bug?" he said, playfully hitting your stomach with his arm.

"R-right" you said trying your best not to start crying. Were you really just about to set your boyfriend up on a date just to avoid telling your brother?

"Brilliant! Thank you so much! I have my Prefect rounds tonight with Lily so, that works" she told James.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Em" James said as she nodded her head to him.

"Thanks, love" she told you. "I'll see you both later!" she said, walking away from you.

"Oh, Merlin! Bug, did you hear that?"

"What just happened?" you muttered to yourself.

"I'll tell you what just happened. I just got a date with Lily!" he said, excitedly, pulling you with him to the Great Hall.

"I didn't hear that" you said, frowning at him.

"Come on, let's go!" he said, running towards his usual spot. He found Remus and Peter already sitting there but Sirius was nowhere to be seen. "Great! You're both here! Where's Padfoot?"

"He said he'll be right here" Peter said as James pulled you to sit and he took the seat next to you.

"Brilliant!" he said as he started putting food on his plate and yours.

"Are you okay?" Remus asked you.

"She's fine. She's just hungry" James said, placing a massive mountain of potatoes on your plate.

"No, I think I have to go-"

"Nonsense!"

"Hey" Sirius said, appearing at the table and greeting all of you. "Bambi, I didn't know you would join us today" he said, sitting next to Remus, in front of you. "What are you all talking about?"

"Not much" James said, acting casually. "Just talking about next weekend" he said smiling. "Hogsmeade weekend" he continued. "Do you have any plans?"

"Uh, no, n-not really" Sirius answered, looking at you without meaning to.

"Wonderful" James said with a smirk. "I have a proposition for you" he told him.

"What?"

"Well, I was thinking-"

"Shocker" Remus heard you mutter under your breath and your brother quickly glared at you.

"What do you think about going on a double date?"

"Are you asking me out, Prongs? Because I've got to be honest with you, you're not really my type" Sirius asked him making the other two Marauders laugh.

James rolled his eyes and glared at his friends. "No, I just happened to run into Emmeline, you know her right?" he said.

"Um... sure?" Sirius said a bit confused. He looked at you to see if you could maybe provide some sort of explanation, but your eyes were glued to the potatoes on your plate. You didn't dare to look up at him.

"Well, you see, my sweet Padfoot, it looks like our dear Emmeline has a bit of a crush on you" he said happily.

You lifted her look just to see Sirius' reaction who looked back at you, feeling extremely guilty.

"N-no, she doesn't" he said awkwardly.

"Yes, she does! Isn't this grand?"

"G-grand? W-why would that be grand?" Sirius chuckled, nervously.

"Well because she just told us that she wants to go to Hogsmeade with you this weekend and that she would ask Lily so we could go on a double date" James said with a smirk.

"Us? What do you mean 'us'?"

"She just told us before coming over here" he explained, making Sirius' heart stop. "She wanted us to find out if you liked her back" he shrugged.

Sirius instantly looked at you. He knew you were upset. And you probably had every right to. This was it. He should just come out and say it. But he fucked up again. He was a coward.

"She told you that?"

You slowly turned to look up from your food when you felt the four boys looking at you. James still had his stupid smirk on his face, Peter was just curiously waiting for an answer, Sirius was looking at you as if he was going to cry, and Remus was looking at you almost... sorry?

"Um" you said nervously. "She might-have um, m-mentioned something" you said before looking back down.

"Mentioned something? She said you two have been flirting back and forth for weeks" James said excitedly. "So, what do you say? Why don't you ask her out and then the four of us could go on a double date?"

You felt your heart beating faster each second and feared it might explode. Not only would Sirius not take you out on a date this Saturday, but he might even go on a date with someone else. All to avoid telling your brother about the two of you.

"Uh, I don't think so, Prongs-"

"Come on, Pads, is just one date" James kept on pushing.

Remus turned to look at you, who didn't dare look up from your plate. He noticed the tears in your eyes and he turned to glare at Sirius, kicking him under the table.

"I don't really think Padfoot's interested, Prongs" he said, widening his eyes at Sirius. He couldn't believe he was so afraid of James as to even hurt your feelings in the process.

"Of course he is, he's interested in any girl" James laughed. "Well, almost, right bug?" he said, elbowing you playfully on your stomach.

"R-right" you muttered sadly.

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach and you decided you couldn't be here anymore, so you stood up.

"Hey, where are you going, bug?" your brother asked confused.

"Away from you" you answered, grabbing your stuff.

"But you haven't even touched your food" James said, worriedly, looking at the still full plate next to him.

"Well, maybe I'm not hungry anymore" you said grumpily, before walking away from them.

"What's going on with her?" James asked concerned, looking at his three friends.

"I don't know" Sirius quickly replied. "W-why would we know?"

"Yeah, why would we know?" Remus asked, glaring at Sirius.

"It's probably her time of the month" James said shrugging his shoulders. "Honestly is easier to deal with your time of the month, Moony, no offense" he said looking at Remus. "So, what do you say?"

"About what?" Sirius asked, confused.

"The double date!" James said frustrated.

"Uh, I um-" Sirius said awkwardly. "I don't think so, mate. I'm not really interested in Emmeline like that" he said getting up as well. "Um, I'm gonna go see if Bambi's okay" he said, walking out of the Great Hall before any of them could stop him.

"What do you think is going on with him?" James asked confused. "And why is he checking on my sister?"

"Beats me" Remus said casually. He wouldn't be the one to tell his best friend that their other best friend was in a secret relationship with his sister.

Sirius ran after you as quickly as he could. He quickly made his way to the Library, knowing you went there when you didn't want your brother to bother you and he walked over to the last aisle. He saw you sitting there with your knees pulled to your chest as tears fell down your face. It felt as if someone grabbed a hammer and broke his heart into millions of pieces.

"Love" he said, kneeling next to you. You quickly tried to wipe away the tears falling down your cheeks but new ones just came.

"W-what are you doing here?"

"Sweetheart" he said, pulling you towards him. "You know I don't want to go out with Emmeline, right?" he said, as you tried to breathe normally.

"I g-guess" you sighed.

"Look at me" he said, gently lifting your chin with his finger and he then wiped your tears softly with his thumb. "I don't want to go out with anyone who's not you" he said genuinely.

"Sirius..." you said, pushing yourself away from him.

"And I swear we have not been flirting back and forth! I wouldn't do that-!"

"Sirius" you said again, making him pay attention to you. "It's fine" you said, with your voice breaking a little.

"W-what?" Sirius frowned, confused.

"Look, it is clear that your relationship with me is not as important as your relationship with James" you cried a little more. "S-so, if you want to just- e-end whatever this is, I completely understand and-"

"What?!" he said, raising his voice a little. The two of you heard someone shushing you all the way on the other side and he looked back at you. "Sweetheart, I don't want to end things" he pleaded. "I-is that what you want? I swear I haven't flirted with anyone since I came back here and-"

"It's not what I want, Sirius" you insisted. "B-but... I just... I don't know what to do! I don't know what you want-"

"I want to be with you, love!" he insisted.

"Do you? I barely get to see you anymore. We're in different houses, we're in different years the rest of the time you're with my brother and you don't want him or anyone else to know about us! I don't know how long I can keep doing this, Sirius. It just doesn't feel as if you actually want to be with me!"

"I do!"

"Then why can't we just tell James so he can stop setting you up with a different girl every week!" you blurted out. "You think he doesn't tell me things? That he hasn't told me how he noticed you've changed and you don't talk to girls anymore so he keeps trying to set you up with them!"

"Well, of course, I've changed! I'm with you now and I don't want to be with anyone else!"

"But he doesn't know that, Sirius! So he's most likely going to keep doing this until you get fed up and tell him! So, why not just tell him already? Do you not want people to know about us-?"

"No! That's not it!"

"Is it me? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me or something?"

"What? No! Love, how can you think that!?"

"I don't know what else to think Sirius! I don't even know what we are!"

"Please don't ever think that" he said with a stern look on his face. "Look, I know I fucked up yesterday, and today, and probably lots of other times. I've never done this before and I-" he sighed, running a hand through his hair frustrated. "I love you" he said, making your heart flutter instantly.

"Y-you what?"

"I love you, sweetheart, okay? I know that. I've known it for a while. I have never felt like this about anyone and... I don't want to lose you" he said with his voice breaking a little. "I know I've fucked up, I just..." he sighed again. "I don't want you to think that my relationship with James is more important than you. Nothing to me is more important than you, okay? But... love..." he said, looking away. "I got disowned" he said, quietly. "I was kicked out of my family and James..." he continued. "Without him, I wouldn't have anywhere to go. I wouldn't even have you" he explained. "And he's my best friend and he knows me more than anyone. You also know that I don't have the best dating reputation here and... I'm just... scared that he's going to hate me and... then I'll have no one" he said. "I know this isn't fair to you, this is all just... a lot and new to me, and I'm so sorry-"

"Sirius" you said, cupping his cheek with your hand and smiling at him. You pulled him gently and kissed his cheek. "First of all, I love you too" you said, making him smile back at you.

"Y-you do?"

"Of course, I do. Why do you think I was so upset about you going out with another girl this weekend-?"

"That was never going to happen-" he interrupted.

"Secondly, I understand where you're coming from about James" you told him. "And we don't have to tell him until you're ready" you said. "But James loves you too. You know in a different way" you said, making him laugh a little. "I think he loves you more than he loves me-"

"That's not true" he insisted, making you chuckle.

"Either way, he would never turn his back on you" you insisted. "And neither will I" you assured him. He pulled you closer, kissing your temple before he wiped away your remaining tears.

"I'm so sorry, love" he whispered. "I don't want you to feel this way" he said. "I feel like I keep screwing up and hurting you-"

"It's okay, love" you assured him. "I mean, it's not the most ideal situation" you admitted. "But, we don't have to tell him until you're ready" you said. "I just... I don't particularly love that girls keep chasing after you" you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burn.

Sirius gently lifted your face slowly so you would look at him. "I promise I don't want to go out with anyone who's not you, love" he said. "Y-you trust me, right?"

You smiled sweetly at him, brushing his cheek with your thumb. "Of course, I do, love" you said, giving him a peck on the lips. "I love you" you said, feeling your heart flutter at the sweet smile on his face.

"I love you too" he said, giving you another kiss.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Hey, mate, where did you disappear off to?" James asked when Sirius walked into the boys' dorm. "We didn't see you after lunch, or at Potions, Charms, or at dinner" he told him.

"I uh- was... around" he said, innocently.

"Mhm" James said, looking at Peter. "By yourself?" he asked, making Remus roll his eyes as he kept reading his book.

"I um... well... yeah" he shrugged

"Interesting" James said, sitting up.

"All afternoon?" Peter asked.

"Yes" he said, sitting on his bed and throwing his bag on the floor. "I went out and had a cigarette. What's the big deal?"

"You missed class-" Remus spoke for the first time.

"Nobody cares about that, Moony" James interrupted as he sat on his bed. "See, we happened to hear otherwise, Padfoot" he said, smirking at Sirius.

"What are you talking about, Prongs?" he frowned, looking between him and Remus.

"Well, since you obviously missed dinner, you missed what everyone was talking about" he continued.

"I doubt it was anything interesting-" Sirius started.

"Oh, but it was" James continued. "See it was about you and your new... girlfriend" he said, making Sirius' heart drop.

"M-my what now?"

"Your girlfriend" Remus said, suddenly very interested in the conversation, closing his book.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, Padfoot, apparently someone saw you today walking out of the library with a mysterious girlfriend" James explained.

"That's insane" he said, chuckling nervously.

"No, mate, it's from a reliable source" Peter nodded.

"Really? Enlighten me, Wormy, who is your reliable source?"

"Marlene and Dorcas" James added. "They all said they saw you leaving with someone who had a Gryffindor scarf" he said, getting up and walking over to Sirius' bed. "So, either you have a Gryffindor girlfriend, or maybe you gave her your scarf" he said, sitting down next to him. "A bunch of girls were claiming it was them but according to Marls, it wasn't-"

"Do you really have nothing better to do than wondering if I am with someone-?"

"See, it all adds up" James continued. "Why you wouldn't go out with Emmeline, or any other girl for that matter" he said. "We just want to know why you didn't tell us!"

"Because it's none of your business!" Sirius said, getting up, frustrated.

"So it's true!" Peter smirked.

"I knew it!" James yelled at the same time. "Who is she?"

"You kind of built yourself up for that one, Pads" Remus told him.

"I didn't say it was true!" Sirius said, feeling nervous.

"You didn't deny it" James smirked. "C'mon Pads, tell us who she is!" Is it just a fling?"

"Yeah, who is this mystery girl and why did you hide it from us? Usually, you brag about your flings" Peter laughed.

"There's no mystery girl and it is not a fling-!"

"Again, you just keep setting yourself up, mate-" Remus intervened.

"Hey dorks, I need some food. I missed dinner" you said, suddenly entering your brother's dorm and the four boys turned to look at you.

"Oh, suddenly you're in a good mood again?" James asked, glaring at you a little.

"I am if you feed me" you said, walking over to your brother's night table because you knew he would have dinner's leftovers. Which coincidentally happened whenever you or Sirius would miss dinner.

"Hey, bug, did you hear about Sirius' secret girlfriend?" James asked suddenly, making you choke on the banana muffin munching on.

"W-what? Sirius has a secret girlfriend?" you pretended to be confused as Remus rolled his eyes when you sat next to him and dropped your bag on the floor.

"Yeah, we're trying to figure out who she is and why he didn't tell us" Peter added.

"Hold on" James said, sitting up and looking at your tossed bag on the floor. "What's that?"

"What's what?" you asked, with your mouth half-fulled at the same time Sirius did.

James noticed something peeking out of your bag. Something scarlet and gold. He quickly got up and grabbed it, taking it out.

"Why do you have a Gryffindor scarf?"

"I um-" you swallowed, nervously. "That's yours-"

"No" he insisted. "Mine is over there" he said, pointing at his opened trunk with his scarf on top, falling out of it.

"Uh- P-Prongs" Sirius started, but your brother looked deep in thought.

"How long do you reckon it's going to take him?" Remus muttered, sitting up.

"Oh for Merlin's sake! I can't take it anymore!" Sirius yelled, frustrated. "That's my scarf!"

"Now we'll never know" you mumbled, giving him a piece of your muffin.

"So, you're the mystery fling?" Peter asked with his jaw dropped.

"She's not a fling!" Sirius argued.

"Wait, how long has this been going on!?" James asked looking between you and Sirius.

"Well, we've actually been seeing each other since this summer" Sirius explained.

"SINCE SUMMER?!" James blurted out.

"Jamie, is not a big deal-" you tried.

"It is a big deal!" he argued. "How come I didn't know about this?" he asked, looking at Sirius.

"Well, I didn't know how you were going to react, Prongs and-"

"So you lied to me?"

"Technically we didn't lie" you told him. "We just didn't say anything-"

"Oh, don't use that with me, I invented that, bug" he glared at you. "Plus, today when we talked to Emmeline, you said you weren't dating!"

"No, I didn't" you argued.

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did!" James complained as Remus, Sirius, and Peter kept looking between the two of you.

"No, actually, technically, I didn't" you insisted.

"Yes, you di- oohhh" he gasped, remembering your previous conversation. "You didn't! You clever bug, I'm impressed" he smirked, proudly as he gave you a high-fived and you accepted it, rolling your eyes a little. "So you two have been seeing each other for months now?"

"Pretty much" you said, still a bit nervous.

"And this is why you kept turning me down when I tried to set you up?" he asked Sirius.

"Yeah" he admitted.

"Are you happy with her?"

"I am. Very happy" Sirius quickly said.

"Are you happy with him?" he asked you.

"I really am" you replied.

"Okay" he said, sitting back on his bed.

"W-wait, you're... you're okay with this?" Sirius asked, extremely confused.

"Well, I don't love that you hid it from me but... yes, why wouldn't I be?" James shrugged.

"W-well, b-because I thought- are you kidding me? I thought you were going to kick my ass!"

"For dating my sister? You do know her, right? She's more than capable of kicking your ass" he laughed. "Plus, I'm assuming that since it's been going on for a long time it's... a serious relationship?"

"Well, we haven't had our first date yet, but... yes" Sirius said, sitting on your other side and holding your hand.

"Wait, you haven't had your first date, what the hell have you- no! You know what, I don't want to know" James said, glaring at you as you laughed.

"See, mate? I told you James wouldn't mind" Remus said, patting Sirius on the back and erasing James' smile off his face.

"E-excuse me?" James said, getting upset. "Remus knew?"

"Prongs" Sirius said getting up at the same time.

"You mean to tell me that the two of you have been together for months and YOU TOLD REMUS BEFORE ME?!!" he snapped.

"It was an accident, mate-"

"Oh, I'm sure it was!" James said, glaring at Sirius. "I can't believe you did this to me! Why would you betray me like this?!"

"I'm sorry, Prongs! I can make it up to you, okay? Honeydukes, this Saturday, I'll buy you all the candy you want!"

James stood there with his arms crossed. "... I'm listening" he caved.

"But I thought we were having our first date-"

"Oh, don't you even think so, bug! Remus knew!"

"This is going to be my whole life, isn't it?" you asked Remus and Peter.

"Yes."

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I know this was a roller coaster of emotions but I hope you loves liked it! :D

#marauders #marauders imagine #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black oneshot

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winterarmyy · 9 months

Text

Promise Me | Part I

When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.

Summary: Y/N kept being reincarnated into the world for seemingly endless of lifetimes with the lasting, vivid memories of her past lover during the 40's, Sargent James B. Barnes. While she thought this was a 'punishment' for her sins, she was also unknowingly oblivious to the fact that James was still alive somewhere, almost forever frozen in the time.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 6.5k++ (hella long bc lots to cover in the story building part)

Pairing: 40s!bucky / eventually tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: just slow induced angst for your daily consumption (i guess?) It has a hopeful ending so don't let the first warning chase you away. reincarnation concept. an attempt to follow exact mcu timeline (forgive if i'm wrong at certain parts). slight religious contents. grief & loss. graphic violence. deaths. mention of suicide. a lot of reader's pov, story building > dialogs (sorry guys).

P/S: Another impulsive writing from me y'all. I hope you don't get bored of this tendency of mine lol. I just need to let the fantasies out before it consumes me. So... anyway, it's gonna be another 3 parts fic cause for the love of god, I cannot commit for more :') Also, my first attempt of writing 40's bucky!!! I'm honestly scared. I hope you like it!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Italy, 1943 – His return

If it was one thing that Bucky should expect when he decided to be in a relationship with Y/N was that he had to accept her for who she was; stubborn, clumsy, bold, clever, sweet and most certainly the prettiest dame he ever met.

He might have unknowingly signed up for it the moment he quite literally fell for her at one of those Stark's science expo. Bucky had been stealing glances at this one pretty lady in the crowd, adored in soft mint dress that falls right below her knees.

It wasn't even a scandalous dress to wear in public but somehow Bucky was more than ecstatic to marvel at her beauty. There was no such thing as a too long of a stare, especially when she laughed like that; throwing her head in amusement, the loose strands of her curls fall back across her shoulders as they slightly shook to the rhythm of her laughter.

A careless misstep, that Bucky could see from a mile away, had caused her to stagger backwards and twisted her ankle into an inevitable fall. Somehow, Bucky managed to slither his way through the crowd towards her, almost jumping forward to catch her before she landed on the ground.

Not only that he was the one who fell first, but he also fell hard.

So, it was expected that Bucky knew what he had got himself into. At least, that was what Y/N had been repeating in her head to convince herself for what she had done. Now that she was sitting at the back of the wobbly military truck, the fear had slowly started to seep into her, causing shivers to crawl all over her nerves.

Y/N just knew it in her guts that Bucky would be absolutely furious when he sees her but what does he expect her to do when she hadn't receive any letters from him for months now. So, when she heard that they needed more medical helpers at the Italy base, she signed up without thinking twice about it.

"There has been a recent attack on the 107th. Too many casualties and much more whose heavily injured. You might have your hands full the moment you arrive to the base. There are few rules..." The lieutenant's voice was rigid just as his demenour when he continued to inform the situation to the troops of medical staff.

No matter how much she wanted to pay attention to his words, Y/N couldn't help but to tune in only at his first few sentences. Casualties, heavily injured. Her hands moved to search for the cross pendent hanging from the necklace around her collarbone, gripping it tight as she prayed that her lover was not categorized under any of those dire circumstances.

What the lieutenant said in that truck could never be more true as the moment they stepped into the medic tent, Y/N and the others were quickly pulled to assist the fallen men. It was truly heartbreaking and horrid to witness the dreading truth behind what the public posed as the "heros of the country'.

Surely they were proud to fight for the nation but then again no human being should ever had to suffer the consequences of war; not the civilians and certainly not the soldiers.

After seemingly hours of continuous stitching, wrapping and patching up; surrounded sound of groaning pain and the endless cycle of inhaling the distinct scent of fresh blood, burned flesh and the bitter of anticeptic odor; the injured soldiers were finally taken care of and had been put to rest.

Y/N looked around the tent, noting the unorganized mess around the patients; the result of the panic and chaos of the whole situation. A thought came to her mind, she might need to do some cleaning up before writing down medical record for each one of the patients.

That was when the lieutenant entered into the tent, and his stern gaze swiftly analyzed the much calmer scene, "Thank you for your service, everybody. I assume the soldiers are stabilized?"

"Yes, sir." One of the battalion doctor replied as he approached, while the rest of the team watched from where they stood.

The lieutenant simply nodded, "Good." He paused for awhile and looked around, "Now, have any of you met Captain America before?"

There were bunch of no's murmured around the medical staff, some of them just shook their head as an answer and the lieutenant nodded again as he informed, "Well, I guess you are all just darn lucky cause he's here to perform. You are invited to come and join the others to watch, if you want to."

"Steve's here?" She thought to herself.

As the lieutenant continued to explain some things about accommodation, food and medical supplies, Y/N's head were filled with thought that her dear friend, Steve was there too.

"I wonder if he gotten any words from James."

"Maybe he got letters from him?"

"Or could it be that he was here to find James too?

There were so many questions kept circulating in her head that by the time she snapped out of them, the lieutenant was already long gone and some of the medic staff went out to untangle themselves from the hours of stressful tension.

As a nurse herself, she felt the need to take care of her patients and finish her job before anything else. So, she started to clean up the shredded clothes, bloodied guazes and the other medical tools that needed to be sterilized and put away.

By the time she finished, it finally dawned to her that there was no trace of Bucky in the medic tent. Which means he didn't fall into the heavily injured category. So, there was two left; the one she prayed for and the other that dreaded her to even think about.

Y/N quickly made her way towards the tent where she can find the soldier in charge. However, if she was focused during one of the lieutenant's speech in the truck, she would've heard that she and the others were not authorized to enter certain parts of the base, which include the higher ups' tents.

When she was turned down by the soldiers, she sadly walked away towards the main area where Steve was supposed to perform. The drag of her feet across the dusty sand was heavy but no more heavier than the burden in her heart.

She watched as her black pump shoes gradually covered with light sand. Finding it odd that a few weeks ago she was standing on the shiny tile of a hospital in Brooklyn and now she was halfway across the world in the middle of the chaos of a war.

The things she'd do for love.

Soon enough, the dry ground was wet from the sudden down pour, turning it into a murky soggy path. Y/N quickly ran towards the main area where apparently the show was long over. "Did I missed Steve?" She thought as she stepped into the tent where the performers supposed to be.

The tent turned out to be empty and only the sound of drizzling raindrops above it was left behind. She looked around the area and saw the costumes for the performers were still there; the pleated white and red skirt hanging on the rack, white gloves clipped with them, the captain's shield with notes sticking at the back of it and the iconic blue helmet-mask thingy plastered with the obvious letter.

She peeked a little to the right only to see Steve hunched down on the floor, curling into himself just as he always did back when he was left beaten up in the alleyway somewhere in Brooklyn. She guessed that the upgrade of his size doesn't really change his habits.

Y/N walked closer to see him holding his sketchbook on one hand and another was a pencil pressing across the paper, lining the drawing of a monkey on a unicycle. "I guess the serum does not amplify your art skills huh Steve?" she teased as she approached the blonde man.

Steve lifted up his head as he turned towards the familiar voice, "y/n?" His face lit up as he recognized her face. He stood on his feet and pulled her into a tight hug, "It's so good to see you." He sighed, he haven't seen her since his departure when she insisted for him to stay.

But alas, Steve was also as stubborn as her.

It took awhile for him to process it but when it came to him, he gently pushed her away, "Wait.. what are you doing here?" His brows creased into a worried frown.

Y/N simply smiled as she responded, "They needed help, so I volueentered."

Steve shook his head in disbelief, "Bucky made me promise not to let you do stuff like this." In which Y/N countered, "And he also remind you not to do anything stupid until he get back so..." she purposely trailed her words for him to draw the conclusion on his own.

He let out a long sighed before concluding, "Bucky's gonna kill us."

Since, Bucky was in the topic, Y/N took the oppurtunity to asked Steve about him, "About that, have you heard--"

A woman's voice came from her back, cutting in between her words, "Steve?"

Steve nervously untangled himself from Y/N as he shyly greeted the woman, "Hi."

The woman continued to stare at Y/N trying to figure out her role and relationship with Steve but before she could get any strange idea, he quickly introduced her, "This is y/n. She's my good friend from home."

A spark of realization glint through her eyes "I see. I'm Peggy. Nice to meet you." She extended her hand towards Y/N, in which Y/N gladly shook it in hers as she reintroduced herself, "You too. I'm y/n."

After the brief exchange of smile between the two ladies, Steve continued to asked Peggy, "What are you doing here?"

Peggy sighed as she explained, "Officially, I'm not here at all." She paused as she picked her words, "I just came by to oversee the situation after the recent attack."

Although Y/N knew what Peggy meant, she was one of the medic staff that had been stitching up the aftermath of that attack after all. However, Steve on the other hand seemed to be lost.

Peggy further explained, "Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano, more than 200 men went up against him and less than 50 returned." She paused, "Your audience contained what's left of the 107th."

Steve's blues widen in realization that almost looked much like panic, "The 107th?"

"What?" Peggy prompt quickly.

Steve then turned his head to Y/N, "Bucky?" He questioned shortly.

But even she was hoping that he'll know something about Bucky, apparently she was wrong, "I tried to ask but I'm not authorized to enter the tent. I was hoping you heard from him."

Seeing the panic in Steve's eyes, she knew that her lover was no where near the safety that she prayed for. But before fear could set in, Steve sprinted out of the tent, "Come on!" he shouted as Y/N and Peggy ran closely behind him.

When they arrived to the tent, fortunately they had the permission to enter with the help of Peggy. "Well, if it isn't the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?" Colonel Philips greeted in a teasing manner.

Steve didn't even bother to greet the colonel as he demanded, "I need the casualty list from Azzano." In which the Philips responded, "You don't get to give me orders, son."

Knowing that arguments won't help the situation, he control his tone of voice and spoke, "I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th." He took a short breath and insisted, "Please tell me if he's alive, sir. B-A-R-"

Colonel Phillips stood on his feet as he walked towards a table behind him, "I can spell. I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count." He paused before turning around to eye on Steve and briefly on the very worried looking nurse next to him.

"But the name does sound familiar. I'm sorry." There was a flash of sincerity in his eyes when he looked towards Y/N.

The optimistic Steve continued to insist more about other possibilities than casualties, "What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" They went back and forth about the what is the 'right' thing to do, "Yes, it's called 'winning the war'. "

And suddenly sound of the heavy rain fall was all Y/N could hear, then comes the booming of her heartbeat as the panic started to deprive her of any optimism, clouding her judgment to think of anything near to positive outcomes such as Steve.

It was getting harder to breath and the anxitey slowly choked her, forcing tears to pool in her eyes. Peggy swiftly took a hold on Y/N, before her knees managed to fall to the ground. The muffled sound of Peggy's voice managed to come through but not enough to wake her from the despair.

Before she knew it, Steve was already gone for an unauthorized rescue mission with the help from Peggy. And ever since, Y/N had spend every waking moment digging her knees into the uneven ground. Her elbows bruised from how hard she propped them on the steel edge of the army green cot. Her palms almost dented to shape of the silver cross as she desperately squeeze it between her hold.

She prayed and prayed for his return. For both of her dearest to be safe, to find their way home.

And for a moment Y/N thought her prayers were graciously granted by God, as the crowd was getter louder and the circle of soldiers were geting thicker when the survivors joined the rest of them. There were chantings of "Captain America" that echoed throughout the base and that gave her relief to know that Steve was safe.

But it was not enough to tame her anxiousness. Y/N's focus has never been sharper when her eyes scanned the crowd, she slithered her way between the jumping joy of the soldiers, grabbing onto some men who she mistook as Bucky until she saw him.

Her heartbeat ramped increasingly as she pushed through the soldiers, finding strength from the blood pumping excitement when she recognize those steel blues and that cheeky smile. Not long before she managed to grab onto his hand and pulled his attention to her.

It was brief but he knew that face anywhere; and suddenly his whole body was engulf into a familiar tight hug that he thought he could never be able to feel again. "James." her voice still stuttered even if it was just one word that came out of her lips.

"y/n?" Bucky called her name, almost in disbelief.

God, she never knew that she was able to miss his voice this much.

"Doll, what you doing here?" He gently lead her away, which she reluctantly followed, "I'm here for you." There was no need of lies now that Bucky was here in her arms.

His gaze soften with a mix of concern and joy, "What do you mean you're here for me?" Bucky couldn't help but to let out a short laugh, "Sweetheart, you do realized that you're in the middle of a war?" His brows quirked as he reminded.

Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course, she realized that. The moment she saw that form for enlistment, she knew. But, it didn't stop her to sign up, does it?

She laced her fingers into his, "I didn't come all the way here to fight with you, James." she whispered as she leaned closer, "So, please just shut up and kiss me."

Bucky might have just realized it now; what a stubborn, demanding, crazy little lover got himself. Though at the same time, she had never charmed him more.

Bucky sighed in defeat before running his tongue on his lower lip, "Well then, come here you little minx" he took her by the head and gave her the most desperate yet sweetest kiss she could never forget.

Brooklyn, 1944 – Promises, promises

It was the day that Steve, Bucky and the rest of the Howling Commandos were depolying to the Austrian Alps for one of the biggest mission since Captain's impulsive rescue mission in Italy last year.

Apparently, Zola was on the move and predicted to be passing though the location while travelling on a train.

This wasn't the first time she had sent Bucky away, but the fear of each always felt like it was her first; especially when she thought about the promise of death that's chained to a soldier's fate.

The closer the time of departure, the stronger her grip on Bucky's uniform becomes. And Bucky didn't need to say anything because he knows her too well; she won't take any of his sweet words as a cure for her distress.

Bucky slowly swayed her from side to side as their embrace tightens with need; her face hidden in the crook of his neck while his arms secured around her waist. He had to smile as it reminded him of their late night dance, barefoot on the kitchen floor of his apartment.

He could feel the teasing gaze coming from his back as well as the whistles of the Howling Commandos playfully making fun of him. Bucky was also well aware of the fact that everyone had made theirs bets on when will the Sargent James B. Barnes finally get down on his knees for his little nightingale of a nurse.

Unsurprisingly, Steve might just win the bet afterall. That punk just had know everything about him.

Y/N closer snuggled into him one last time, "Come home to me, James." She whispered against his skin before pulling away. Teary eyes threatened to spill its salty liquid as she looked up at him, "Promise me."

Bucky's charming smile lighten his features as he leaned to press a kiss in her forehead, "I promise."

Brooklyn, 1945 – Loved and lost

Months gone by, entered the new year, and it always felt like eternity for Y/N. She spent nights kneeling next to her bed and days on the church's floor; practically begging to God for the life of her lover, for keeping him away from death.

And the letters from Bucky also come and goes within those few months' time, with his promises of coming home that's laced in the words of his longing and love for her.

But, little did she knew, that promise met it's end of the bargain when the dreaded letter came to her hands. It came from the man she met back in Italy base, Colonel Phillips, sending the words of condolences for the death Sargent James B. Barnes during his honourable mission at the Austrian Alps.

But the first time she read to words, it didn't even register in her head. It was as if her brain failed to translate the message for her to understand. Y/N had been re-reading the same lines over and over and over until it finally clicked.

The usually bright eyes of hers were now slowly filled with tears, she was in the state of shock; that even if her brain knew exactly what had happened but her heart wasn't ready for it.

The tears started to fall down onto the letter. Drip by drip. And all of the sudden she lost every word that she could ever think of. Her silent scream; suffocating her with each breath she took desperately gripping onto the fragile piece of paper, holding it to her chest hold as if that would help to ease the pain in her heart.

Y/N could feel it in her ripping guts. How all the threads of every joyful memories she could ever once recall; they unraveled in a way that broke her to pieces until they were all but a rumpled of strings scattered about her feet.

A sharp fall had forced Y/N down to her knees, skin digging into the hard floor as her hands trembled silently, clutching onto the letter.

At first when she opened her mouth, there was not a single sound came out as her breath ripped from her lungs. Each left her with scars of loss and every waking minute in this reality was just pure pain.

Her body bend forward until her forehead meets the floor, that was when she wailed; an agonizing scream that left a haunting memory to the neighbours around her apartment.

She cried like there was too much raw pain inside that she could never contained. She cried like her soul needed to break loose from her skin, desperate to release a loathful rage on the world.

But it was more than just crying, it was the sobbing of a woman that drained of all hope. She sank on floor, willing herself to be swallowed by the dread and loss. Just screaming out the agonies that been dancing across her vulnerable veins.

Her chest violently quivered as she was desperately trying to catch the air. She collected every last energy that she had to call out the name of the lover she had loss, "James.." Her gasping breath whispered against the floor, "You promised."

A month later the nation celebrate to the announcement to the end of a war, but to Y/N it was just another wave of mourning grief to a loss of another precious person in her life; Steve.

Amidst the loud sound of cheering and laughter, she rushed away from the crowd to the place that she had put all her faith into. Stumbling through the empty church and falling at the feet of Jesus' statue, Y/N looked up at the face if God with loath, rage, despair, and tears.

The night was brighten to the flashing light from the firework but all she could think of was how similar the sound of it to a firing canon in the war. And the thought of Bucky and Steve run through her mind.

She had been nothing but faithful to the lord, religiously prayed for no more than saving the life of people she held dear to her heart.

But, God thought it would be merciful to let them die.

Y/N harshly ripped the cross necklace from her neck, tearing her skin apart in the process. She gripped on the cross in her hands, much like she would few month back but for completely different reason.

The crimson of her blood tainted her white collar of her nurse uniform as she she cursed the all mighty God for what he had done. Ever since, she swore to herself to never be naive to the illusion of God's mercy ever again.

Washington D.C., 2014 – An old friend

Fate is full with irony and God has his way of twisting them for his own pleasure.

When Y/N died in the 60's, old and unmarried, even if she doesn't believe in God anymore, her dying wish was to be able to meet her lover and friend again.

At least one more time.

But lo and be hold, God had different plans for her. Y/N's body did die that night on the hospital bed but her soul never did. It was as if she was woken up from sleep in another body with the same face as her, that's when she realized she has been reincarnated.

Apparently, she was only born in the same family lineage as her original life; whether coming from her younger brother or cousin or anyone related back to her bloodline. And sharing even the tiniest amount of blood of her own, triggers every single memory from her previous life.

This wasn't what she wanted.

She didn't want to live knowing she cannot be with Bucky.

So on the 2nd life, she did the unthinkable. She took her own life, thinking that she would finally leave the world behind but she didn't.

It happened again.

And again.

So, when she reached her 6th life, she realized that she will never able to meet James and Steve ever again; that was when she went rogue.

Her 6th life was filled with rage and vengeance that she took the idea of life very lightly. So, instead of living until the old days, she searched for revenge and got herself tragically killed in the process.

Now, the 18 year old Y/N was in her 7th life, with a new name that was given by her 7th parents, "Evelyn" , and the spitting image of her 1st life. From her dark raven hair to the light brown of her eyes. This time, she decided to try to accept the cruel fate; the cursed that God had placed on her for the sin that she made decades ago.

Y/N walked around the Smithsomian Museum, specifically at the American history section where they put up Captain America's exhibit. It's been how many lifetimes since she surround herself with knowledge of a past that she once lived.

This was the first time, since her first life. And most probably the last time since she was going overseas in a week to continue her studies in Asia.

She walked along the line up display of the Howling Commandos suits, remembering the living flesh of them as she took steps forward to each, stopping in front of Bucky's.

Flashes of him appeared to where the figure stood; the memories was so vivid that she could still feel fabric of his suit against her, the electrifying feeling on his skin on her own.

She ripped her gaze away just to be greeted by the portrait of Bucky, plastered so hugely on the memorial of one of the Howling Commandos section. Despite the cracking of her heart, her body move on its own; as they knew that deep down, Y/N's heart will always be yearning for her lover.

Her gaze soften with longing and nostalgic as she slowly blink at his features. His considerably messy hair, that little frown that he does to act mysterious for the ladies, and the thin layer of beard that she loved to leave her lipstick marks on.

Y/N's daydream were cut short when someone pulled her by the arm, startling her into a defensive mode. Her 6th life's habit almost broke through when she nearly flipped the man on the floor but thankfully she stopped herself as she recognized those blue eyes.

The man's face looked pale like he had seen a ghost, as he uttered a name that she haven't heard for decades, "y/n?"

"Steve..." she called his name wordlessly.

She knew he was alive. Everybody does, when the news came out in 2011, she was merely a 15 year old kid back then. Apparently, the super soldier serum helped him to survive the ice.

She remembered how her parents rushed to her room when they heard the sudden cluttering sounds of panic upstairs, only to find their daughter on the floor looking pale while her cup of iced coffee spilling in all over her study desk as the viral youtube video of Captain America running through New York city barefoot.

She remembered the feeling of both disbelief and joy that rushed through body as her parents helped her to sit up on her bed. The moment that it sunk into her head, she began to cry. Streams of joyful tears broke from her shaky body, each drop washed the painful burden in her heart as her parents lulled her to sleep.

Y/N never made an effort to meet him after knowing truth because who would've believe her words?

She wasn't Steve. There wasn't any super soldier serum in her blood. There wasn't any tank of chemical that drown her with power.

She was cursed and now she had to live with it.

Meanwhile, Steve seemed to be trapped in a spiralling confusion of his own. He examined each of her features and he had not a single doubt that she has the same face to an old friend in the 40's.

The same friend that he knew died of old age in the 60's.

But, how come the person managed to have the exact same face to hers. Now that he looked closer, she was younger than the last time he saw Y/N. She looked like she was in her teens, "Are you really y/n?" His voice was soft as he muttered.

Y/N bit the insides of her cheeks, holding back the urge of telling him the truth, "Sorry, I think you got the wrong person." she tried to untangle his grasp around the thin of her arm.

Even her voice was similar to Y/N, and she was looking at Bucky's photo like she knew him.

How could she say that she's was not Y/N?

Steve reluctantly let go of her arms and took a step away after seeing the distress on her face, "I-I'm sorry. You remind me of someone I know." He couldn't take his eyes off her.

She was just too similar looking to someone precious that he left behind.

"It's okay, sir." She smiled gently, like the way she usually does when Steve apologizes for his impulsiveness of picking a fight in alleyways. She looked up to the taller man as she continued, "Thank you for being alive..." she hesitated to call him by his name so instead she called for his other name, "...Captain."

She thanked him sincerely before walking away, leaving Steve to reminisce the memories of his life with Y/N and Bucky as he stared at Bucky's memorial.

The next week, she left the United States for Asia where she planned to spend 4 years studying at the National University of Singapore, leaving her past behind in hopes of moving forward with her life, refusing to care about the avengers shenanigans anymore, including her dear friend, Steve.

New York, 2018 – New norms

When half of the population was wiped out from the earth, two of them was Y/N's parents. And like every other people who had lost their loved ones during the blip, her parents sudden absence truly take a toll on her, especially when she was planning to live a long life with them.

After graduating and getting a decent job in Singapore, she was forced to go back to New York when it happened. Y/N couldn't just let her childhood house left abandoned, she simply can't let that happen.

You would thought a person who had multiple lifetimes would be used to losing someone they love but no. It only gets worst as the years go by.

The more Y/N tried to fit into the new norms, the more that she could feel herself slipping into old habits of her 6th life.

Until that one drunken night when she visited the Smithsomian Museum again after years of forcing herself to forget about him; it took her one look at the potrait of Bucky, she knew what she had to do.

Germany, 2023 – An old nemesis

Nearly 5 years into the blip and Y/N was already becoming a legend in the underground scene. They called her the Deathstalker. She never really knew the origin of it but nevertheless she chooses to stick with the newly founded identity.

With the skills she picked up on her 6th life, she easily became the most deadly assassin in the business, seemingly in a constant competition of reputation with the highly popular, black widow assassins.

Though she couldn't care less about who was winning the battle, she only cares about tracking anything or anyone related to Hydra.

After that fateful night at the museum, she couldn't to think that this must be her calling.

If the curse made her technically immortal, then why not became the hunter destined to slay the monster. They said that Hydra will never die, but so was she. And if anything good came out from this curse, then she might as well use it to avenge Bucky.

And bring the old nemesis to the ground.

Her 6th life was similar to this but she wasn't going to make the same mistake. The flaming greed to have her revenge was too strong back then, it lead her to be hasty and clumsy, which then let her to an early death.

But, she's grown out of those immaturity.

Nowadays, she takes her time and still get the job done flawlessly. Just like she is now, when the soft but dark sound of her chuckle, interrupted the silence that had claimed the room.

The poor man was sitting limp on the chair with his body tied with it. He had been like this for seemingly hours with a knife in one of his thighs, which trembled with the vibrations of his body.

More so, when Y/N twisted them, causing a keen of pain to clawed up his throat and spilled out a hoarse groan.

"Where is it?" Her fingers wrapped around the handle, as she watched the man tossed his head, more with fear than trying to answer.

"I don't like to repeat myself." Y/N slid the blade free, causing a noise he would not forget. The man sagged against his bonds, panting as he watched the blood surged and dribbled out of the wound.

But then he felt the prick against his other leg, wide eyes turning to watch as the knife was held above his skin, Y/N's hand flat against the top, ready to push in. "Where the fuck is it?" her tone was eerie as the voice changer in her mask produced an emotionless robotic effect on it.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The thick german accent seethed through his voice as he grunted in pain.

There was only boredom in Y/N's eyes as she gazes straight into his. A stab of the knife went through his thigh without a warning, until the tip of it almost met the flat surface of the chair beneath it.

The whole room echoed with the sound of the whimpering and cries of his struggle, "Please, I swear to God I don't know what you're talking about." He pleaded as fast as he can, when he felt the shortage of breaths in his lungs due to dealing with the excruciating pain.

"Playing dumb isn't going to help you, mutt." She twisted the knife, pulled out and stabbed it again causing him to fall into an almost delirious state, "Please, please please, I swear I don't know anything about the serum." He blurted out of misery.

There it was.

The thing she wanted to hear.

Y/N's eyebrow quirked in interest, "I never mentioned the serum in our conversation, no?"

He fucked up.

He knew that he fucked up.

But, does it matter when his body was searing in pain?

By the end of the intense interrogation, Y/N finally got the intel she needed to find and destroy whatever was left behind by Wilfred Nagel, who was recruited by the CIA to recreate the super soldier serum.

Those greedy fuckers just cannot stay away from things that shouldn't be meddled with. Even Y/N could see the potential threats of a successful recreation the super soldier serum; they were practically asking for Hydra to revive to its glory days.

And she would not allow that to happen.

She needed to destroy it before its finished.

A loud wail left the man's lips, almost sounded a little strained as he had been screaming in pain for hours. Y/N mercilessly grabbed him by his sweaty chin as she pried his mouth open. Knowing exactly what was coming, the man begged, "Oh lord, please please help me please."

Leaning closer she coldly spoke, "The gods doesn't care about you. Trust me I've been there." With a swift strike, she forced her knife down his throat, and a splash of red tainted her mask, nearly got into her eyes but she managed to blink before it does.

She stood still as she watched him gurgle on his own blood as death collected his soul. Wiping the blood away from her eyelid, she walked out of the abandoned building with a mission to finish; all the while blissfully oblivious to the war that the avengers were fighting to their death on the other side of the world.

Madripoor, 2024 – The most prized asset

The returned of her parents were as sudden as the lost. Though she was glad that they were back, however she had to live a double life now that they kept asking about her job and personal life as they wanted to catch up for the lost of time in 5 years.

Y/N felt bad for lying to her parents but it was for their own good. Now, that she had sent them to a honeymoon to travel all over Europe, she felt better in pursuing her mission without concerns.

Besides the joyful return there was also the awful ones.

Now, that Wilfred Nagel was back from the blip. The serum was perfected to its finest version. And was stolen by bunch of kids protesting for equal rights.

What a fucking mess that was.

But, she would deal with that later. The main focus right now was to find the man itself. There would be no more serums if the source is eradicated.

That was her priority.

With her face hidden behind her signature mask, Y/N walked through the messy crowd as she searches for Shelby's men. This should be a short meeting, since Shelby and her had history together; or more to a favour that she owns to Y/N.

However, when she tried to tune in into the hushed conversations in the crowd, she noticed that the murmurs seemed to be divided into two hot topics; one about the sudden appreance of the Deathstalker, which was herself, and second was surprisingly about the return of another notorious assassin.

Then when the conversations died down, a fight suddenly broke out. Y/N hold on the handle of her blades from the side of her thighs, as she stiffed into a defensive mode.

While on the other hand, the crowd seemed to be more interested in recording the fight, than avoiding it.

She seemlessly weaved her way through the people, only to see that the action ended with a man choked onto the table of bar. The attacker's face turned away from her where she could only see his figure from the back.

Then, a gleam of gold caught her attention, Y/N squinted her eyes as she analyzed the man's left arm.

It was not the pattern of the sleeve from his suit.

It was his arm.

A black bionic arm.

Which reminded of her of someone she came across in her 6th life; but his was a tin foil silver with a red star on his upper arm. At the time, he was Hydra's most prized asset, they called him the Winter Soldier.

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: yes, I am well aware that left y'all hanging but I still hope you enjoy this one. Tell me what you think so far, I'm curious if y'all cry at the part where she received the letter or maybe you can comment of something else, I'd still love to hear them ♡

#winterarmyyfics #promise me au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #40s!bucky #1940s!bucky #tfatws!bucky

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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 2 years

Text

More | Bucky Barnes (Mob AU)

mob!bucky barnes x f!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: You're the secretary to one of the most powerful mob bosses in the country, and that's what he was supposed to stay—your boss. The heart often has other plans. Now, you're in a race against time to save the life of James Barnes, the mob boss who has become so much more.

A/N: Longer one today, just as angsty as I'm used to. I write better with the more angst I do and you can't tell me any different. As always, let me know if you have any requests or comments because I love you all! Keep those dreams alive 🤍

Warnings: mob!bucky, vioence, angst, fluff throughout (because I'm really trying here), secretary!reader, mentions of past abuse in relationship, protective bucky

Word Count: 13,122

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I have to make it. I have to.

"Come on, come on, come on," I breathe out, drumming my nails nervously against my steering wheel and peering around the car in front of me.

He's not answering his phone. I have to make it in time.

I take my lip between my teeth, the anxiety in my chest only rising as each second ticks by. Finally I swear under my breath and swerve around the car before me, slamming the gas pedal to the floor. A chorus of honks rises around me but I don't care. All I know is that he's going to die.

My boss is going to die if I don't make it.

You may be wondering to yourself, how did a meagerly-paid secretary end up breaking traffic laws and nearly crashing her boss's brand new Tesla just to get to him in time? Why would I even bother? Why would his life be in danger in the first place?

Well, to understand that, I'm going to have to take you back to where my life of crime began.

If my mother ever heard I had a life of crime, she'd kill me herself, so let's keep this one between us.

|||

2 Years Prior

"I'm sorry sir, but you don't have an appointment and Mr. Barnes is full for today," I repeat, quickly losing my ever-bearing patience with the brash business man before me.

His eyes dart around my desk and to the office of my boss, CEO James Barnes. I've only worked here for a few months and yet being his personal secretary is proving more difficult than I imagined.

"Look sweetheart, just let me through and I won't take but a few minutes of his time," the man pushes, not even sparing me a glance as he walks around my desk. I shoot to my feet and step in his way, not hearing the office door open behind me.

"You can either see yourself out, or I can have someone help you. Either way, sir, you're not seeing Mr. Barnes today." I assert, my heart pounding and blood boiling in indignation.

If there's one thing I've learned in my time working in Corporate America, it's that most rich and powerful men think they're so far above the rest of the world that they're entitled to open doors wherever they go. Thankfully, my boss is one of the better ones.

Definitely better than this tool in front of me. I almost scoff in disbelief when the man goes to step around me again.

"You don't scare me, sweetheart. I'm just gonna-"

I step directly in front of his path, my eyes flashing with anger.

"Either you leave right now, or I'll personally make sure you'll never get a time slot with my boss. And it's Ms. Y/L/N, not sweetheart" I grit out, standing my ground and leveling my glare at the man.

"Who do you think you-"

I feel the warmth of his presence before he even says a word.

"Do you feel a need for career-suicide, or are you just incompetent?" A dark, rough voice sounds behind me, cutting off the business man.

As my boss steps beside me, the heat of his presence washes over me and I don't even need to look over to know that his menacing face is on display. I can see it's impact in the business man's sudden desire to leave.

"Uh, I-I am so sorry sir. I'll be on my way."

As he scurries to the elevator, I feel my cheeks heat as I look over at James. His dark hair is cut short but is left long enough to be perfectly messy. His bright blue eyes are already piercing into my exhausted ones.

"Sorry for the commotion, sir. I'll try to handle them quicker next time," I start, but my nerves are lessened by the slightly impressed look upon James' features.

"I've never seen you get angry before," my boss notes, making more heat crawl up my neck.

"Yeah well, I used to let everyone use me as their doormat, but I don't let people walk all over me anymore." I respond with half of a laugh. He hums at that, his eyes trained on me.

I break the contact first, turning around suddenly to my desk to avoid the way his eyes seem to burn the air between us to nothing.

"Miss Y/L/N, can I have a word with you in my office?" He speaks again after a few agonizing moments of silence. My hands freeze and I slowly turn around to find his gaze inquisitive.

"Of course, boss" I reply, clasping my hands together to hide the way they tremble slightly. James Barnes is quite possibly the most terrifying person I've ever met, and yet the more time I spend in this job the less he scares me.

When follow his gesture to walk before him to his office, he slips his hand to the small of my back as I enter and I swear my skin sets on fire. I hurry away from his touch and into a chair as fast as I can. There's a slight hint of amusement upon his features as he settles back in his massive chair, eying me from across the desk.

"Is...is everything alright, sir?" I question after a minute of the thick silence. He sits straighter at this, leaning his forearms on his desk and clasping his hands together.

"Do you have a criminal record, Miss Y/L/N?"

His question startles me so much that it takes me a moment to respond.

"I'm...sorry?" I question, not understanding where this is going.

"Anything at all," James continues as if I didn't say a word, "Petty theft, aggravated assault, murder-"

"Sir I definitely don't have a criminal record," I cut in, my heart beginning to increase in speed. James nods, his blue eyes pinning me to the spot.

"Good, that makes you unsuspecting," he states, only heightening my confusion, "In order for you to be of best use, not to mention safe, it's best if you know exactly what it is that I do."

I sit completely dumbstruck and left with no response at all. My mouth opens and closes as I search for words, but I can't seem to find any.

"You've got a backbone and you're an honest, hard worker. That, you've proven. And, against my better judgement," Barnes pauses, his gaze taking on a somewhat softer, almost vulnerable gaze, "I trust you, Y/N."

My heart leaps into my throat and something stirs within me when he says that...that word. Y/N. My name. He said my name for the first time since he hired me. I don't know why it has such an effect on me, but it does.

Before I can stop myself, I blurt "I trust you too."

I do? When did I make that decision? And why did I just say it out loud?

Something in my boss's face shifts at my words, but he masks it with his usual cool, calm demeanor. He sits again in silence for a moment, taking in me and my response before he nods.

"The business I run is more lucrative than what the surface shows. I need someone on my side on the surface level, an associate who can assist me in matters at this office."

"This office?" I repeat, my brows furrowing together as my heart begins to race again. What does he mean by lucrative? And why is there excitement bubbling in my gut?

What he says next would change my life forever.

"I'm the White Wolf, Y/N." my boss's low voice rumbles, his eyes bright and clear, "I'm the-"

"King of organized crime, ruler of the New York mob," I interrupt, my eyes wide and my entire being not comprehending what's happening. I should leave. I should quit this job and call the police and leave. I should be terrified. But there's something in those eyes...

What I say next would start that life of crime I mentioned earlier, and quite frankly I still don't fully understand where it came from within me.

"Sure," I simply say, and the shock that splays on James' face must mirror my own.

"Sure as in..." he trails off, waiting for me to elaborate and clarify what we both know I mean. I swallow down my nerves and go with the decision my entire head is screaming against but my entire gut yells louder for.

"I'm in," I say, this time with more confidence, "Like I said before, I trust you. And I get the feeling you'd kill me if I said no."

Humor traipses across his features as he sits back in his chair in surprise. He plays with the ring in his finger, nodding slightly to me.

"That went better than planned," he murmurs, and I don't know why but I feel like smiling. My entire body is buzzing and my head is swimming, but something deep inside of me is waking up.

I've been walked all over my entire life. That's just the way it's been. I didn't know the difference between being nice and being a doormat for people's convenience until I was well into my life. As much as I hate to admit it, there's something about James Barnes that I trust, there has been since the day I met him. I felt it pull deep in my soul and now, knowing what he does and who he is...

It's time I control my fate, time that I grab my destiny and force it into motion. It's time that I stop letting people walk all over me and be the person who has a voice and a say and...and power. I've heard of the White Wolf as long as he's been around. He may be ruthless but he is not cruel. He's always looked out for the city, taken the scum off the streets and done the things the politicians refuse to. I trust James. And something deep within me is shouting that this is right, that this my destiny, that this is the strings of fate pulling.

And I know when to listen.

"Welcome, Ms. Y/L/N," James announces, standing and keeping his gaze burning down on mine, "To the real business."

|||

Seven months later.

One night, about seven months after the conversation that absolutely changed my life, I'm working overtime in the office.

My hands are dug into my hair and my eyes droop closed. I release my hold on my hair to knock back the last of an energy drink, but the liquid has little effect. I desperately read through the computer screen, hoping to solve the legal entanglement before me.

James informed me when I came into work this morning that some over-righteous beat-cop was looking too much into the business we hide behind our Property Management company. I've been here all day long trying to figure out how to file all the necessary forms to make this disappear and seem a joke. That's taken longer than I expected, though, and at nearly midnight, James and I are still here working.

"God, this is awful," I groan, dropping my head to rest on my arms upon my desk, my forehead seeping in the cool of the wood. I hear my boss's office door open but don't even bother moving. Eventually, a soft laugh sounds that makes me drag my head up and look over to its origin.

"You look absolutely pitiful" James comments, his tired eyes dancing with a humor that seeps into my own features slowly. A small smile tugs at my lips as I sit up fully.

"Thanks, that's what I was going for," I quip sarcastically.

He coughs out a laugh that makes my chest tighten slightly and some of the exhaustion part. Over the months working for the White Wolf of crime, we've become...friends. Well, as close to friends as a mob boss and his secretary can get.

"Come on, let's take a break. We've been at this for too long, I don't even know how you can think straight," James mentions. I shake my head, blinking a few times before turning back to the computer screen.

"No, I've almost got this loophole figured out and we'll be golden if I can just-" I'm cut off abruptly by a strong, calloused hand gently gripping my chin and turning it up so I'm looking at James. My heart gallops suddenly and it takes every ounce of strength to keep my composure against the charge coursing through me.

"Y/N, take a break," he mumbles so soft that a shiver runs down my spine. We stay locked like that for a moment until I nod and pull myself out of his grip by standing.

"Alright" I murmur, breaking the tense, charged moment by pointing a finger at him.

"But if you bring out alcohol on the job, so help me James Barnes I'll turn you in to the police myself," I threaten emptily. He laughs genuinely this time, and it warms my spirit.

"Come on, doll. I've got an idea" he urges, walking out to the massive open save before my desk. I eye him warily and step to it, hoping that the sudden skittering and tripping of my heart at that nickname doesn't show. He's never called me anything but my name, before. Now, it's almost too easy to forget that I work for him.

"You might wanna take your heels off," he suggests, which only heightens my confusion. Nonetheless, I slip the footwear off and walk barefoot in my pant suit to my boss.

"Should I be concerned?" I ask, bringing another humored glint to those beautiful steel eyes.

"No," Barnes says simply, my eyes darting to his forearms as he rolls up the sleeves of his button-up, "I've actually been meaning to do this for a while. You're working for me in a very dangerous business, and although your involvement is kept a secret, I want you to be able to defend yourself if anything goes wrong."

His words settle over me heavily as I shrug my close-tailored suit jacket off and lay it on my desk. This is actually a smart idea. I sure don't want to be helpless should the time come and, lets be honest, it inevitably will.

"Okay," I reply, walking warily in front of my boss who's practically made of muscle, "Teach me."

Something dark floods his eyes that he blinks away quickly before holding his hands up in a fighting position, gesturing for me to do so. I oblige, putting my fists up in the best way I can. He walks over to me, slowly taking a few steps around my body to inspect my stance.

"Not bad," Barnes announces before stepping close to my side and placing those large hands against my torso and turning it slightly, "There, like that you can use the power you have against someone who might have a lot more than you."

His touch muddles my mind and I can't help but feel that his burning hands linger for a second longer than necessary before he steps away and back in front of me. Even as he does, I instantly feel like I'm missing something without his warmth. It's been that way since I began working here, though. Every little touch here and there has gotten me irrevocably addicted to the feel of him.

I'm so startled by the thought that it almost shows on my face. That train of thinking is...is highly unprofessional.

"Now, punch me" he orders. I hesitate, but don't lower my fists.

That's also unprofessional, and yet look at us.

"Are you sure?" I ask, and he simply nods. I shrug, "Alright then."

I throw the best punch I've got, but he dodges it easily and grabs my fist in his hand. Before I know what's happening, his leg hooks around my vulnerable one that I stepped with and he throws the momentum of my punch back at me so that I crash to the ground. I know that if he'd done that little move fully my back would've slammed into the ground along with my skull. Instead, he follows me to the ground and wraps an arm around my waist, breaking my fall and easing me to the ground as he hovers above me.

I know he means to say something, but words must die for him too when the all too small space between our bodies is realized. I can barely breathe and it's as if time itself has stopped. I watch his fingers flex on the floor by my head, almost as if he's going to reach out to me but chooses against it. All too soon, the moment is broken when James stands and extends a hand down to me. I take it and let him pull me up to standing, disappointment and relief mingling in my stomach.

"That move can save your life, especially against someone bigger than you." James says, a little bit more distantly than he was before.

I thank him quietly and watch him clear his throat and walk back to his office. He pauses when he reaches the door and looks back over at me.

"Y/N, I want you home in an hour tops." He orders. I nod, still slightly breathless.

"And if I stay longer?" I taunt, not even knowing where the words come from. He tilts his head at me, a challenging gaze taking over.

"Then I'll throw you over my shoulder and walk you out myself."

I almost think he means it from the mischief lingering in his gaze.

Sure enough, I go home an hour later.

|||

Five months later

It wasn't until about a year after I joined in on the mob business that I realized how well I was beginning to know James.

And how much more he was becoming to me.

"Y/N, can you get me-"

I cut off my boss by setting down two steaming coffee cups.

"Two triple espressos with low fat cream," I announce, before fishing the folder out from underneath my arm and setting it on the desk before him, "And the monthly finance report. The guys in finance weren't finished when I came by yesterday, so I made sure they had it done for this morning's meeting."

James stares up at me in shock for a moment. That shock is still lingering when he says, "And the meeting schedule?"

"Already in your computer, I emailed it to you last night. I also sent it out to everyone who's coming and made sure to tell Mr. Martinelli 10:30 instead of 11:00 so he arrives on time." I respond, clasping my hands before me and giving my boss a light smile.

"Oh," I exclaim, turning around suddenly and picking up the package I left by his door, "And this gift basket came with a heartfelt apology from Mr. Lankov. It did have an assortment of toffee-filled chocolates which I went ahead and removed for you."

Mr. Barnes reaches over and slides the basket I set down on his desk towards himself before looking up at me. He looks almost impressed, which is high praise enough.

"Will that be all, Mr. Barnes?" I ask when he just stares at me for another minute. I feel my entire body burning under his gaze and, as usual, the air is thick and palpable whenever we're in a room alone. His gaze hardens again into the cold, meticulous mob boss he is and he nods once

"That'll be all, thank you Ms. Y/L/N."

I nod and turn to walk out only to be stopped by his voice calling out to me again.

"Y/N?" James announces, making me turn to him again. I don't know what I expect him to say, but it certainly isn't what comes from him, "I think you are too close of a friend to be calling me James and Mr. Barnes by now."

My heart stutters, but I keep the emotion that surges from his words from splaying all across my face. He considers me a close friend, not just his secretary. When did it ever become more?

When did I ever convince myself it wasn't more.

"What would you like me to call you?" I ask, and the question seems all too formal. The corner of his lips tug up and the movement makes my stomach flip.

"Most of the people closest to me just call me Bucky," he informs, and a rush thrills my entire body as I nod and try to keep my smile small.

"If you need anything else let me know, Bucky." I reply, and something darkens in his gaze.

I'm frozen for another moment, his stare binding me to where I am. Phantom electricity skitters across my limbs and I realize how much I have to restrain myself from walking closer to him. It's almost as if he's the Earth and I'm the moon, caught in his gravity and unable to pull away, All at once I come to my senses and leave his office quicker than usual. I make sure the door is shut behind me before I press my back up against the cool surface.

My heart is pounding in my chest. That was too personal, that was all too personal and wildly unprofessional. Nothing that was said was but the way he looked at me, the way I melted in my spot at that gaze. It was all consuming, and I didn't think I could breathe in that room. He's a mob boss, my mob boss, and I'm his secretary. James...Bucky is naturally a brooding, intense sort of person so the way he looked at me wasn't unusual. The way my entire being reacted was.

And he's so much more than my boss, no matter how much I may try to ignore it.

As the day goes by, I try to rationalize it all. In the end, I know everything there is to know about him—what he likes and dislikes, his routines, his daily patterns. It's my job to, but he doesn't know that about me.

If he did he'd know that today is my...

I think that same thing over and over to comfort myself that everything is normal and okay, but it only just makes a part of me sink. It's almost as if the thought that I'm not more to him has the potential to break me.

You can only be broken by things that hold you.

I'm jarred from that thought when Bucky's voice sounds over my business phone speaker.

"Y/N, my office" He says simply, his voice holding that natural authority and sharp edge that it usually has.

I get up and am walking into his office moments later. Once I'm inside, I take notice that Bucky's hard at work on some document before him and doesn't even spare me a glance until the door clicks shut behind me. At this sound, he looks up and sets down his pen. He stands slowly and adjusts the cuffs of his suit jacket. That small movement sends my entire body into a downward spiral.

"You tried to hide something from me, Y/N," Bucky rumbles, and my stomach hits the floor.

I did? What did I try to hide?

"Sir, I'm not entirely sure what-"

My word die out as he stalks around his desk and up to me. My entire body is trembling, but not from fear, when he stops before me and stares at me so deeply that I feel like he's taken my heart straight from my chest with his bare hands. I'm not so sure he hasn't.

"It was a valiant effort, really," he muses, and I still have no idea what he's talking about, "But even if I only know you half as well as you know me, there was no way you could've hidden it."

My brows are furrowed when he finally reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out an envelope.

"Happy birthday, Y/N," My boss whispers, and the moment feels all too intimate as he hands me the envelope.

He knew it was my birthday. That thought sends a thrill through me that I wish I could forget. I look down at the envelope and back up at Bucky who stares at me with the hint of a genuine smile on his lips.

"You didn't have to..." I whisper, but he gives me a 'really' sort of look.

"You do everything for me, and I'm pretty sure my world would fall apart without you. Now open it."

That only makes my heart race harder and I can't keep away my smile as I open the envelope. Everything seems to fade away when I pull out what's inside. There's no card, just a single slip of paper. When I flip that paper over, I realize that I'm in love with him.

Because it's a round-trip ticket to Kinsale, Ireland. A place I mentioned only once months ago that I've always wanted to go to.

I look up at him, my eyes wide and already filling with tears that I refuse to let go.

"How did you know?" I breathe.

"You said it was one of your dreams to go, and it's hard to forget when you speak about something so passionately." Bucky's reply softer than I've ever heard him be.

I've seen him kill people, torture criminals, and threaten politicians. I've seen him command his mob and rule with certainty and ruthlessness. And yet here he is, giving me one of my dreams because I mentioned it once.

I love him. I know it then, and I don't think I'll ever escape it. I've loved before, but never has it felt like this. This is encompassing and devouring and scary. It's real and deep and world-shifting. How much in love I realize I am with him is the kind of love I never thought I'd get. And yet...

I know it's unprofessional, but I can't stop from stepping forward and getting on my tip toes to wrap my arms around his neck in a sudden hug. He freezes, and for a moment I wonder how long it's been since he's been hugged. Bucky gives in almost instantly and wraps his strong arms around my torso, tugging me closer to him. I decide in this moment that this is my favorite place to be. Kinsale might have been one of my dream places, but this, in his arms, has just as quickly topped the list.

All too quickly I realize the intimacy of this position and pull away, no matter how much it leaves me feeling cold and alone.

"Thank you," I whisper, clearing my throat and taking a step back, "No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

Bucky just stares at me with that all-encompassing gaze.

"Then they're all idiots," he murmurs, and my traitorous heart surges again.

This man is my boss. He's the most powerful person in this city and the last thing he'll do is care about someone as powerless as me. And yet...and yet, and yet, and yet. I can't stop.

|||

Eleven months later.

Eleven months later and I'm still just as totally screwed.

I can't stop the feelings that bubble through me, that take me over and encompass everything I am and hoped I could escape. I tried convincing myself he was nothing, tried to fall for someone else, anyone else, but I can't.

James Bucky Barnes is intoxicating in the most wonderful and awful way. And I can't quit him.

That's why I'm here at Angel's Fall, the bar every corporate associate and beat cop or detective in our slice of town finds themselves at after work. I haven't been in a while, not much liking the smell or taste of alcohol, but after spending nearly ten straight hours with Bucky that serve as a reminder that I'll never have him, I needed to take the edge off.

"Anything else I can get for you, babes?" The bartender asks as she takes a stop in front of me, giving me a friendly smile. I return the gesture and let out a long sigh, finishing out the last of my whiskey sour.

"Scotch, straight," I request, giving her a tired smile, "Thanks."

"Sure thing," she replies, instantly beginning to make my drink, "You seem like you've had a long day."

I scoff, running a hand through the hair that I freed from my low bun, "Long few months."

"That bad, huh? Well I'll keep these going till you say when, sweetie," she replies, sliding my drink to me. I give her another quiet thanks before she leaves to her job.

"Y/N? Y/N is that you?"

I furrow my brows, not putting the voice to a face. I turn towards the sound of the man to find him standing beside me. Once my eyes land on his features, my entire being runs cold. Instantly what little alcohol I had in my system sobers out and my blood freezes in my veins. It's as if I've been dunked in ice water and I find it hard to draw in breath.

"Ian. It's been ages" I comment, my voice thankfully not trembling like I expected it to be. Ian laughs before me, leaning on the bar and drinking me in with his eyes. I squirm under his gaze, which only serves to make me uncomfortable.

"Damn right," he comments, smirking at me lazily with that smile that wrecked my life nearly three years ago, "I've missed you, baby."

I bristle at the nickname, my heart flinching even if my body doesn't. I know he's probably missed me, I had to move to a new state to escape him the first time. I thought I'd done good, too. I'd gotten settled here for a while and then worked my way up to a job at Bucky's company. The past almost two years in Bucky's business have been so good for me that I almost forgot my life before it, the reason why I was so ready to take on the life of organized crime.

The reason stands before me, proof that our demons never die. They just hide away until we're vulnerable again.

"What are you doing in New York?" I ask, trying to make polite small talk and avoid the obvious elephant in the room.

The elephant being that the last time I saw him, I smashed a lamp over his head before I scrambled out of his apartment and to the nearest cab that whisked me far far away, leaving behind all of my belongings except for a wad of twenties and my cellphone.

"I got a transfer to a firm a few blocks from here not too long ago. God, you look great Y/N," Ian averts. He says my name again, almost as if he can't believe I'm standing before him. I nod, wringing my wrists and shoving my forgotten drink away from me.

"That's great, Ian." I keep it simple, knowing that if I talk too much I'll lose myself again. I spend my mental energy searching the thickening crowd of people for a way out. I even consider signaling the bartender that I need an escape.

I'm barred from my thoughts when his hand, a hand I'll never forget, skims over my arm. I jerk my attention back to him, ripping my arm away from him as fast as I can and taking a step back.

"Woah, calm down baby. No need to be so jumpy" Ian placates, that same easy, manipulative smile that would bring me crawling right back to him every time stretching across his features. It makes my blood turn to ice and my stomach roil.

"Do not touch me," I command, surprised at the strength in my tone. It's a strength I didn't have before I got this job, "You lost that right long ago."

Ian's shock is not easily hidden. He realizes in that instant that I'm not the same girl I was three years ago when he broke me and used me and ruled my emotions. I've grown and gotten stronger because someone saw the potential in me to handle power with ease, to be a part of something bigger and stronger than anything I'd been in before. It may shatter me to be around Bucky every day, but he still saved my life in ways he'll never know.

I used to see the world as good and evil, black and white. Now, after my work in the mafia, I know it's gray. There's evil in the good and good in the evil. No one is ever truly both, and sometimes the ones you think are the villains are truly the heroes.

"I-" Ian cuts himself off with a surprised laugh, his eyes incredulous upon me, "I'm sorry, when did you convince yourself of that lie?"

"What lie?" I grit out, and I almost slap myself for indulging him. I'm quickly unhinging, though, and I know that if I stay in this conversation much longer I'll break back into a remnant of who I was. I try to swallow my bile at the thought. I refuse to do that.

"The lie that you're strong. The lie that you can survive in your own, the lie that you'll be anything or anyone without me," Ian seethes, his words sickly sweet like unsuspecting poison. His words cut me so deep that I almost shatter right there as old wounds I thought had scarred over rip open. Instead, I remind myself of the strength and control I've garnered these last two years working for Bucky Barnes.

And then I slap my ex so hard across the face that my hand stings.

"I am not some helpless little girl that's still in love with you," I grit out, my tone sharper than I've ever heard it before, "You broke me once, you are not going to do it again."

His shocked eyes are so wide upon me that I almost don't register his hand raising to strike me back until my head whips hard to the side and pain explodes across my cheek. When I snap my gaze back to him, my eyes brimming with tears of rage and instability, I see him open his mouth to say something. His words don't make it out.

Not before the crowd of patrons splits and a hand closes around Ian's throat so fast and with such force that his back is slammed into the bar.

Oh, I must've forgotten to mention this before. The Angel's Fall is one of the bars the White Wolf owns.

And here the wolf is himself.

I'm so shocked by Bucky's sudden intrusion that I'm left speechless as his grip tightens on Ian's throat and he brings his face that's flooded with an icy rage close to Ian's clearly terrified one. No one lifts a finger to protest or stop my boss, because they all know who this place belongs to.

"You touch her again and I'll kill you," Bucky growls lowly, and Ian is smart enough to believe him as he nods quickly.

Something warm and bright twists in my chest at his words, even when I know any normal person would be screaming or calling the cops. I've never seen Bucky like this before, not about me at least. About his business, sure. But not me.

"When I let go, you're going to leave this bar and this city," my boss commands, his tone leaving no room for negotiation, "If I ever see you again, I will not hesitate to slit your throat."

Ian whimpers, a sound that I hadn't realized would bring me so much wicked joy, a sound that satisfies the thirst for vengeance that I hadn't even realized I held.

"Now, thank me for my mercy and apologize to Ms. Y/L/N," Bucky orders, his grip loosening enough on Ian's airways to let him gasp out the commanded words.

Once he does, Bucky lets him go. His hand isn't off of Ian's neck for two seconds before my ex-boyfriend is scurrying out of the bar. The noises resume as usual, everyone carrying on as if a man's life was not just threatened. Bucky turns his gaze, still filled with that icy rage, towards me and it softens in a way that melts me.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

I avoid the question completely, hoping he'll forget to inquire about it again.

"Thanks for that," I manage out, ignoring the burning of my now very tender cheek, "I honestly thought I had it under control but then I just had to go and slap him."

"That gives him no right to lay a hand on you," Bucky asserts, taking a step closer to me and running a gentle, calloused hand over my hurt cheek. The simple motion sends electricity surging through my entire body and I somehow feel empty when he clenches his jaw and drops his hand.

"You didn't answer my question. Are you okay?" Bucky asks again, not taking a step back.

My heart is pounding and my body is overrun with so many different emotions that I don't know what to focus on or how to stop it all. I may be looking directly into those steel blue eyes, but I'm miles and years away. Memories of Ian and a version of me I often try to forget flash through my mind and I can't stop them.

"Who said you could parade yourself around like a whore when you are mine?" Ian growls out, making me flinch back and wrap an arm around my torso.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

My head whips to the side with the force of his hand. The sting sets in with the silence for a few moments, suffocating me and drowning me in my own pain. Then I hear him sigh and walk up to me, his hands now gentle as he turns my face up to his.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to do that, can you forgive me?" His words are sweet and his eyes genuinely sad. I look up at him warily and almost pull away when that breathtaking smile tugs onto his lips.

"For me, baby? I promise I'll never lay a hand on you again. I don't deserve you"

"Okay" I whisper, letting him kiss my lips and then the cheek that he'd hit again and again and again and as long as I'd keep forgiving him.

I don't even realize I'm not at the bar anymore until there's a soft click of a door behind me and I register a warm, strong hand encasing my own as Bucky leads me into what looks to be an office in the back of the bar.

I hadn't even realized I'd zoned out. I haven't done that in...in a very long time.

He lets go of my hand only to capture my face in his surprisingly gentle hold. When my eyes meet his, everything seems to quiet in the blue of his irises. Still, my mind is aching to send me back to three years ago, to broken bottles and shattered hearts patched with false kisses and pretty words.

"You're safe," Bucky assures, his face softer than I've ever seen it, "You're safe and you're here. I don't know where you went just now but I need you to come back to me, okay?"

Bucky's soothing voice brings me back to reality and grounds me to the moment until all that's left is this room and him and me.

"That's it, there you go, doll. Stay right here with me," he breathes, making my heart flutter. We stand in silence like that for a few moments that stretch for eternity, with his thumbs running across my cheeks until the consciousness returns to my gaze.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" Bucky asks, taking a step back and pulling his hands from my face. I almost make a noise of protest at the loss of contact, but stop myself. Instead, I just shrug.

"It was nothing, really. Just an ex of mine who doesn't know boundaries," I respond, but I can tell that he doesn't buy a word of it.

Bucky takes a slow step towards me again. This time when I tilt my head up to keep his gaze, something tender and almost tangible crackles in the air between us, tugging and pulling and yanking us together. In the steel of his eyes is a dichotomy of emotions, ranging from a breaking softness to a stifled rage that I don't think is directed at me. It sends shivers racing down my spine.

"Y/N," he starts, and my knees almost turn weak at that one utterance, "I think you're not telling me because you know what I'll do. But I need you to understand something before you leave this room and we go back to our daily routine."

One of his hands hooks under my chin, and his thumb grazes ever so lightly over my lip and so swiftly that I almost think I imagined it.

"I don't care who I have to kill or what I have to do. I will do anything if it means protecting you. Anything." He vows, that rage still lit in his eyes. But when I look closer, it seems to be fueled by something so much deeper, so much richer.

I don't know why the words slip past my lips but it does before my mind can stop them.

"Ian manipulated me for years," my voice is trembling and unsure and so unlike every other time I've spoken with him, "He'd use me as his punching bag and then cry on his knees for me. I was stupid then, I always came crawling back. It wasn't until this job that I learned to stand up for myself."

Bucky's entire body is as rigid as a board and I know that look in his eyes. It's the look that appears when he grows unhinged and closer to losing himself to the rage and carnal violence. His jaw clenches and he seems to compose himself.

"What do you want me to do to him?"

It's a simple question, but in his eyes I can see what Bucky wants to do. I can see it as clear as day and it sets my entire being on fire. I choke up, though, because as much as I want to open my mouth and ask for him to kill him, I can't seem to. He sees my hesitancy and nods, taking a step back from me and adjusting his suit.

"Just let me know, Y/N," Bucky states, sounding more professional again as he turns and heads towards his office door.

A sudden sense of urgency overtakes me and I dart forward, grabbing a gentle but insistent hold of his arm that makes Bucky freeze and turn back to me. His arm is in my grasp and I realize that I'm holding on to it for a sense of stability as I try to get the words out. I think he realizes it too because Bucky lets me hold his arm, his eyes boring into mine and that professionalism dropping for a moment. I open my mouth, but close it again, my entire being trembling as flashes of every horror I endured with Ian overtake me.

"I want him gone," I finally manage out, my voice barely more than a whisper, "Please,"

Bucky's eyes search my face for a moment before a certain softness overtakes his gaze. I can see in his eyes that he knows exactly what I mean, even if I can't say the words out loud. He pulls his arm from my grasp only to take a hold of my hand and bring it to his lips. My heart nearly explodes from my chest when he places a kiss to the top of my hand. My skin is ignited where his lips touched it and I almost can't think straight.

God, I'm so in love him. I love him so much it hurts.

"Done." Bucky vows, his eyes never leaving mine.

Ian's mutilated body turned up in an alleyway the next morning.

|||

Two weeks later

I don't know how everything could have gone so wrong only a few weeks later. It all just happened so fast.

"Yes sir, the catering should arrive about 7:00 pm...yes sir, thank you sir. See you then,"

Once the phone is hung up, I take the pen from behind my ear and check off the catering company from my list of gala preparations. In just a few days, the company is going to be holding its annual Employee and Beneficiary Gala. My last few days have been consumed with making sure it runs seamlessly.

"Excuse me, miss. I have a 3:15 with Mr. Barnes." A man's voice I don't recognize calls out to me.

I look up from my paper, smiling warm at the business man who stands before me. My smile falls slightly when I see that he doesn't seem all too happy at the moment, but I set it aside.

"Yes, Mr..." I pause, looking over at my computer screen and scanning for his name, "Stark?"

"That's me." Mr. Stark responds.

"Alright. I'll let Mr. Barnes know that you're here and you should be right in," I inform, giving the man a polite nod before calling Bucky. While I inform him that his appointment is here, I can't help the uneasiness in my chest at Mr. Stark's grave expression.

"You can go on in," I inform once I get off the phone, giving the man a quick smile before turning back to my work, my entire being crawling for some reason.

The meeting's normal for the first few minutes, but pretty quickly their voices begin to raise.

"You need to be careful, Barnes! Pierce and his men are looking for any in to attack our organization."

Alexander Pierce, that's the boss of Bucky's largest rival—Hydra.

"Trust me, Stark. I am careful and perfectly capable of taking care of my business." Bucky grits back. I lift my hands off my keyboard, my attention slipping to listening to the words.

"No, you're not, you're being reckless. You're getting too close and you know it! She is a weakness!" Stark practically shouts. I hear a sudden screech of chair legs on the floor and a brief silence.

Whatever is said next is too hushed for me to hear, but I'm able to catch the last few words.

"I'll take care of it. You know I will," Bucky says, and the office door opens.

"I know you will, buddy. I just needed to get you there," Stark replies, shaking Bucky's hand before turning and walking past my desk without so much of a glance.

"Have a nice day to you too," I whisper beneath my breath.

"Ms. Y/L/N, my office" Bucky says abruptly from his office. His tone seems...almost cold, unfeeling. And he called me Ms. Y/L/N.

With furrowed brows, I get up and make my way into his office, closing the door behind me per his request. I settle down in one of the chairs before his massive desk, an inexplicable worry washing over me. Nonetheless, I ignore the feeling and carry on as normal. Thinking this to be one of the many previous briefings we've had on the gala, I begin to give him my report.

"The catering company is all set for Saturday as is the decorating committee and half-orchestra. All that's left is to-"

"I'm letting you go." Bucky interrupts suddenly, his voice so nonchalant and his gaze so flippantly down on the papers before him that I almost don't register his words.

As in...he's...firing me?

"I'm...sorry?" I question, to which his jaw clenches tightly.

"You are formerly fired, Ms. Y/L/N. Effective immediately," Bucky clarifies, and it feels as though the floor's been ripped out from underneath me.

I can barely breathe let alone hear over the sudden roaring in my ears. He's firing me, after all this time?

"Bucky, I don't-"

"Sir," he interrupts, finally snapping his gaze up to mine. His tone and glare are so ferocious that I almost think he'll pull a gun on me anytime soon.

That one simple correction makes my heart shatter. He hasn't been 'sir' in I don't even know how long. And the way he's looking at me right now...it's almost like he couldn't loathe anyone more in the moment. Like he doesn't even know me. Like he didn't just kill a man for me.

Like he didn't let me fall in love with him.

Tears burn my eyes as I steel my face and straighten up in the chair, clenching my hands so hard together in my lap that they turn white.

"Sir," the word is bitter on my tongue and I feel sick to my stomach more so than I ever have, "May I ask why?"

"Your work is sloppy and your intentions with my business, both legal and not, are undecipherable. I have decided that the best intention for me and my business is to part ways irrevocably with you, Ms. Y/L/N."

It takes everything within me to not let my mouth drop open in shock. The hurt that flashes through me is so piercing and raw and real that it arrests my chest. I can't...I don't know what I did wrong.

"You're just going to let me walk away," I breathe, my jaw clenched tightly, "With everything I know about you and your mob. You've killed people for less."

His cold, calculating eyes study me for a minute before he leans back in his chair, his features the picture of nonchalance.

"You won't tell anyone. You and I both know I wouldn't hesitate to kill everyone you love and then you." Bucky informs blatantly.

That's when my heart splinters. Because I can see in his eyes that he means every single word. Emotion blocks my throat as I simply stare back at him, no longer working to hide my shock or pain. I nod once and I stand, smoothing out my silk blouse.

"I've lost everyone I love, you're out of luck there."

The lie burns so strongly on my tongue that it nearly makes me physically sick. I say it to make it true, to trick my mind and heart into believing it. I should hate him. I should loathe him with every fiber of my being. But I just...can't.

With tears that I refuse to let fall swimming in my eyes, I stare down at the man who changed my life, who stole my heart and is now breaking it.

"Whatever it is that you've been relentlessly pursuing these past years, whether it's power or money or blood," I whisper, not daring to bring my voice above it for fear that it will shake, "I hope you find it."

Bucky's gaze bores into mine, something unreadable that's nearly akin to conflict flashing through his eyes. Without a word, I turn and leave, stopping only at my desk to grab my things before leaving. Leaving this office, leaving the mob, leaving him.

And as I drive home with silent tears streaking down my cheeks, I can't ignore the gaping, pain-filled hole in my heart. I hadn't realized how much I needed that business, that man. But I have to move on. I have to.

And yet, I have this awful feeling that I'm not going to be able to.

|||

A few days later

It's the day of the gala, and it's all I can do to keep myself composed.

I've been an emotional wreck the last few days, and as much as I've tried to deny it I can't any longer. I'm in love with Barnes, I have been for a while and as bad as I want it to, it's not just going to go away. Losing the job was like losing Bucky, and I hadn't realized how much I leaned on him until he was ripped away.

"Oh come on, you stupid computer," I grumble, shoving my laptop aside as it launches into an update I didn't ask for.

When I woke up today, I decided it was time I start looking for another job. No matter how much it hurts, I have to move on if I have any chance of continuing on with my life. I was job searching when this piece of junk laptop started to reboot.

My attention is glued to my television and the show I have playing while I wait for my laptop to finish the update. I get so engrossed in the show that I almost miss it when the screen goes bright and it turns back on.

"Finally," I breathe, pulling it back to me and typing in my password.

As soon as it opens to my desktop, my laptop begins to pop up a bunch of random windows from my most used apps, just like it usually does whenever it's powered down and back up suddenly. I close them out with mild irritation, but freeze when my spreadsheet window opens up, displaying the spreadsheet I was working on last.

The guest list for the gala.

My heart stutters. I'd done so good all of today avoiding thoughts of the event only for my stupid laptop to bring it to the forefront of my mind. My heart wrenches as I can't stop myself from scrolling briefly through the list of invited guests. Near the end, I notice my name and stifle the sudden rise of emotions that inundate me.

With hasty, almost frantic fingers, I rush to delete my name from the sheet. Before I can erase my name, my eyes catch on four names at the bottom below mine. Strange. My name was the last one added. I know because I edited and set up this spreadsheet and only added myself when I had double and triple checked that everyone had been added.

Maybe Bucky found four more to invite. I try to accept the thought, but my curiosity takes the better of me and I can't stop myself from pulling up the internet on another window and searching up the first of the four names.

Xavier Taft. 34 years old, works for a bouncer service...wait. Criminal record.

My heart stutters again. With events like this, we're always so careful to keep the criminals down to only our own, and I've never seen this man's name in our regiment before. With furrowed brows, I search up the next one.

Lance Salone. Bouncer. Criminal record.

My heart is racing when I search the third.

Amanda Vice. No criminal record.

I frown, my adrenaline seizing a little bit. Maybe I was too hasty, maybe those two were just-

Oh my God.

My entire body freezes when I notice an article underneath Amanda Vice's search. She's a personal assistant, like me. But she works for Pierce Enterprises, the cover business for-

"Hydra," I whisper beneath my breath, feeling as though someone's taken the world and spun it around me.

With trembling fingers, I navigate back to the spreadsheet and look to the fourth name. I don't even need to search it up to know.

Alexander Pierce.

My heart is in my throat as I fly my cursor up to the top of my spreadsheet and check to see the editing history. My eyes scan the hundreds of entries by me until they rest in the last entry, one done by an email I don't recognize.

One I never gave permission to edit the document.

"They hacked it," I piece together aloud. Nothing seems real as I throw my laptop off of me and shoot to my feet, the world still spinning. The two bouncers, obvious muscle with the clear ability to kill.

I know I should hate Bucky, I know that I shouldn't give a damn what will go down tonight at the gala, but I can't stop myself from reaching for my phone and dialing the number I saved to my phone of the weapons dealer Bucky's mob used. The man I spoke with on Bucky's behalf many a times picks up on the third ring.

"Y/N. I haven't heard your voice in so long, how are you?" the dealer, a man by the name Nick Fury, asks.

"Nick, this is going to sound so random but I need to know if there's been any movement from Pierce or his men in the last week or so," I rush out. There's a beat of silence on the other end before Nick speaks again.

"What's this about? I thought Bucky fired you," he points out skeptically. My desperation is taking the better of me and I nearly snap.

"Damn it, Nick I just need to know! Has Hydra done anything unusual lately that you know about? If anyone would know it would be you," I practically beg. He must hear the urgency in my tone because he doesn't question me again.

"I caught word they were hanging around upstate earlier this week, they're not usually over there," Nick announces. I furrow my brows.

"Where upstate?"

"Some place called The Sky Palace. Heard they were there for a good bit of time snooping around before they got booted out," Nick answers, pausing for a moment, "Y/N, what's going on?"

I can barely breathe, let alone work up a response. The phone nearly slips from my limp fingers.

"Y/N, are you-"

"That's where the gala is tonight" I whisper, an aching, yawning sort of sensation ripping in my chest at the sudden realization that slams into me.

They're going to kill him. They're going to kill Bucky Barnes and they're going to make a move on our mob.

"I have to go," I rush out, my voice trembling and my stomach roiling with nausea, "Thank you, Nick"

"Of course."

I end the call, rushing to grab my purse and throw on the first pair of shoes I can find. As I rush out of my apartment and into the streets of New York as the sun sets low behind the buildings, I no longer think about the betrayal or hurt. I don't ruminate that I'm fired or that Bucky doesn't care for me like I do him. All I can think about is that my family isn't safe tonight, and I have to do everything in my power to protect them. All of them.

As I whistle for a taxi, my phone is already pressed to my ear and ringing as it tries by I reach my ex-boss. The call goes unanswered as I sit inside the cab.

"Where to?" The driver asks.

I almost say the venue, but pause. I set up Bucky's schedule for today, he should still be at his mansion upstate getting ready. He always did like to make grand entrances. Even if I'm wrong, it's only a ten minute drive to the venue. I give the driver Bucky's address and dial his number again as the driver speeds off.

"You've reached the voicemail box of-"

"Oh come on!" I groan out, pulling my phone away and ending the call. My heart is racing so fast that I can practically feel it trying to run out of my chest. I feel utterly powerless right now knowing that Bucky could die and I can help. What if I don't make it in time? What if he's already gone?

Tears blur my vision and sudden heart ache seizes my chest at the thought. I shove it all down and keep myself composed as I try his number again, but to no avail. Thankfully, we're pulling up to his mansion now. I pay the driver and rush out, putting in the gate code and sprinting to his front door. I don't even waste time knocking, knowing he's probably in the garage or his room, and dig up the spare key from its hiding spot to let myself in.

"Bucky!" I shout as soon as I'm in, slamming the door behind me.

There's no response.

"Bucky please! Are you here?" I shout again, but the silence rings in my ears.

One quick check of his room shows he's not here and when I sprint into the garage, I see one of his twenty cars missing.

I missed him. He's already gone.

I curse, checking my phone to see that he's running fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, something he never does. Of all days to be more punctual to his own event, tonight was probably the worst. I hesitate for only a moment as I ponder what to do.

"You'll forgive me later," I mutter to myself before I spin on my heels and jog to the key rack by the door. I swipe the first set I find and press the button only to find his brand new, cherry red Tesla lighting up.

If things weren't so dire, I'd squeal in excitement.

I don't waste time with giddiness, though, and sprint to the car. I'm inside and have the engine running in record time. Not one minute later, I'm peeling out of the garage and onto the road with screeching tires. I press the gas pedal nearly all the way to the floor, the engine roaring in my ears as I whip into the traffic.

I have to make it. I have to.

|||

And here we are, all caught up.

I hope you understand now more than you did before why I'm so desperate to get to Bucky in time. I hadn't realized it fully in the moment before, but now that I just might lose him, I know that he's everything to me. I wouldn't be half the woman I am without him and his constant assurance that I was strong and skilled and perfectly able to stand up for myself.

I can't lose him, not when he's so much more than a boss to me. So much more.

I cut the ten minute drive to the gala down to four. My headlights cut thought the pitch black night as I swerve up to The Sky Palace that's teeming with cars and richly dressed guests. The Tesla screeches as I grind to a halt before a group of gasping patrons and a wide-eyed valet.

His eyes grow wider when he sees me step out of it in a pair of jeans and a hoodie.

"Don't scratch this car if you want to live," I advise as I toss the young valet the keys. He must think I'm joking because his gaze flashes with humor.

He doesn't realize I'm being dead serious.

I don't care a modicum about the horrified, disgusted looks I'm getting from the elite who are still making their way to the Palace's entrance nor do I care about their cries as I break into a sprint and shove past them all.

I can't let him die, I can't let Pierce hurt my family. I can't.

I only stop running when I reach the two men guarding the front entrance with iPads to check in guests. I know them both, since both happen to be members of Bucky's mob. Their eyebrows furrow once they see me approaching them.

"Y/N?" One asks, his eyes nearly popping from his head, "Boss won't like it that you're here."

"Let me in, Sam," I order, my chest heaving with breath, "He's in danger, you're all in danger."

The two men's eyes widen and they share a look for a moment before glancing back to me.

"Y/N," the other begins, but the panic is getting too much and I cut him off.

"Listen, you're all in trouble. The business is in danger of being thrown into chaos, and your boss-" my voice cuts off with sudden emotion, tears swimming in my gaze, "Your boss is going to die if you don't let me in right now."

They only hesitate a moment longer before they step aside. Relief like I've never known it crashes through me. Just before I walk in, though, Sam catches my arm.

"I don't know what the hell's going on, but we're already falling apart without you. We...he needs you, Y/N," Sam whispers.

My heart tugs painfully in my chest and that same hole opens again. I miss them all, I miss the mob and the meetings where we'd all mess around like kids. I miss Bucky.

And with that last thought, I give Sam a nod before turning and jogging into the Palace.

Classical music wafts into the air, broken up only by soft chatter, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. The gala is classy and elegant and beautifully well-done, but I don't take time to admire any of that. Instead, I race through the room in search of Bucky.

I receive more than one disgusted glare and scoff at my apparel and messy, unkempt hair. I don't give one damn as I try to blend in as much as possible to not alert Pierce or his men while searching for Bucky.

I stop when I reach the grand staircase that leads to an upper balcony, taking the advantage of the steps and climbing a few to see the room from a birds eye view. It only takes me a few seconds to spot Bucky near the center of the room. My heart squeezes in my chest and I almost sob in relief to see him alive and safe. Just before I move to rush down the stairs and towards him, I hear a click from the top of the stair case.

I whip my gaze up in time to see one of the two bouncers from the list, Xavier Taft, begin setting up a sniper rifle atop the dimly lit balcony that no one but him stands atop.

My heart stops. Time freezes. My stomach hits the floor and all I can think about is that I can't lose him.

"No," I breathe, snapping my gaze down to see the gun trained on Bucky.

When I look at him, I see Sam at his side and speaking in rushed tones, probably about me. Knowing I don't have many options left, my mind works in overdrive to figure out the best way possible to do this. I need to cause a distraction, one to catch Xavier's attention long enough for me to finish climbing the stairs and get that gun away from him. At the same time, though, I need Bucky to see it happen, I need him to know his life is in danger so Lance Salone, the other bouncer, doesn't surprise attack him.

Bucky's just snapped his head towards Sam, his brows furrowed and his jaw tight when I make my move, my nerves humming.

"BUCKY LOOK OUT!" I shout, my voice piercing and carrying out over the room. Instantly, Bucky's head snaps up to where I am on the stairs and his entire body goes rigid.

I don't waste time watching him any longer and begin to sprint up the last of the stairs and towards Xavier who curses. He wasn't ready to shoot yet, I timed it perfectly. Beneath me, Bucky sees the gun trained at him and he sees Xavier, who now has his gaze on me. Bucky's entire body changes again into a mode of desperation, but I don't see it. I'm focused on closing the distance between me and the gun that's almost ready.

"Y/N!" Bucky roars, but I'm barely listening over the chaos in my brain.

"Bitch!" Xavier growls, cocking the rifle hastily and wrapping his finger around the trigger. He's too late, because I finish bounding up the stairs and crash into him, knocking him off of his feet and shoving the gun off balance enough so that the bullet he intended for Bucky slams into the roof instead.

Xavier's body slams into the marble tile as I tackle him, but he quickly overpowers me, flipping us over so I'm beneath him. Below us, I can hear screaming and glass shattering, but above the panic I swear I can hear a voice bellowing my name.

I scramble out from underneath Xavier before he can pin me, shooting to my feet and sprinting to the sniper rifle still sitting on the balcony. Just as I hear Xavier get up behind me, I knock the rifle over and send it careening down into the panicking crowd.

"I'll kill you for that!" I hear Xavier spit from behind me, and I whirl just in time to see him throwing a fist at me.

Time suddenly slows, and it's like I'm back in the office that day ages ago where Bucky tried to teach me self-defense. My body remembers the way he grounded me from my punch before my mind does, and I snap back to reality just in time to dodge Xavier's punch. Just like Bucky did to me then, I hook my leg around his and use his momentum to shove him to ground. I crash down on top of him and practically feel the slam of his head into the marble below him.

"Y/N!"

My entire body jumps at Bucky's voice, now close to me. I snap my head around to see him bounding up the stairs, blood splattered across his tuxedo as if he killed a man himself down there during the chaos. I almost sob in relief. He's okay. I melt beneath his gaze that bores down into me as he stoops down to reach out to me.

His hand is inches from me when his eyes snap up to something behind me and horror flashes through his face a millisecond before a hand wraps around my waist and wrenches me to my feet and away from Xavier's unconscious body. I gasp, and the world suddenly goes very still and very quiet as the cool of a gun presses underneath my chin, forcing it up slightly. My stomach hits the floor and I hardly find it in me to breathe.

Bucky stands ever so slowly in front of me, his jaw clenched and his eyes spelling murder.

"Leave her alone, Pierce," Bucky orders, and sudden fear clamps over me.

Alexander Pierce has me at gun point.

"Why? I'm actually quite taken with your girl," Pierce responds, tightening his hold on my waist. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment at the disgust and fear rolling through me before looking back at Bucky. He catches my slight movement and his fury heightens.

"Pierce, I swear to God if you kill her I will skin you alive," Bucky growls.

"See, now we're getting somewhere," Alexander announces, but I can hear the annoyance in his voice. This isn't what he wanted to happen, "What are you willing to give for her life?"

Immediate tears spring to my eyes and I meet Bucky's gaze again.

"No," I beg immediately, not daring to shake my head because of the gun beneath it, "Let me die. I'd rather die."

Bucky works hard to keep the cold exterior upon his face, but I can see between the cracks that he's...he's terrified.

It's only when Alexander moves his arm that restrains me to cover my mouth that I realize my slim window of opportunity. Without thinking, I slam my free hands into the gun that Pierce holds to the underside of my chin hard enough that it knocks his hand away. His hold loosens in sudden shock and I rip away at the same moment that Bucky darts forward and grabs ahold of me, ripping me to him and immediately crushing me into his side for protection as he rips out his own guns and shoots before Pierce can even recover.

The bullet finds its target perfectly, right between his eyes, and it's over.

My entire body is trembling so violently that I cling to Bucky, scared that my knees will give way from the adrenaline. I've never been in a situation like that before, never been so close to death. Bucky drops the gun from his hold and switches his full attention to me, probably realizing just how pale I've turned and how badly I'm shaking.

Keeping one arm secured around my waist, he runs the other through my hair, his steel blue eyes taking in every feature of mine.

"You saved my life," Bucky murmurs, his hold on me so tight in the most protective sort of way, almost as if he's just as terrified as me, "Even after I fired and threatened you."

I shake my head, tears of relief pooling in my eyes.

"I couldn't let you die."

Bucky's jaw clenches and before he can react I throw my hands around his neck, hugging him close to me. He reacts instantly, wrapping both massive arms around my waist and pulling me close to him, holding me tighter than I ever have been.

"Don't ever do that again, doll," Bucky mumbles into my hair, clenching my hoodie in his fists, "Don't be willing to die for me. I don't deserve it."

I don't know why tears are gathering in my eyes but I find I can't blink them away. I only tighten my grip, nuzzling my head into his neck.

"I don't think I can promise that," I breathe, and my next words come out before I can even stop them, "You'll always be deserving."

Bucky pulls away so fast that my heart lurches into my throat. His eyes examine mine so frantically, so dangerously, so desperately as he holds me out from him. His chest is heaving, almost as bad as mine.

"I did it to protect you, you have to know that. Everything that happened before, it was all to keep them away from you," Bucky swears, and my heart stutters at the look in his eyes, as if the police and ambulance sirens filling the air alongside the shouting don't exist.

"Why?" I breathe, hoping on everything he'll say what I think he will. Bucky brings a hand to cup my cheek, shaking his head at me with something almost close to tears in his eyes.

"You're my only weakness, Y/N, and they know it. Everyone knows it," Bucky murmurs and I swear I stop breathing, "If it came to you or the world I'd pick you every time."

My chest is so tightly constricted that I can hardly draw in any breaths. My chest is moving just as fast as his and butterflies are pressing into my stomach in anticipation for whatever is thick in the air between us.

"Don't ever fire me again," I order, and a low chuckle leaves his lips. My humor drains in a second though, and suddenly it's hard to speak without my voice trembling, "I don't think I'll survive it."

Something breaks in his gaze, softens it and turns it so tender and passionate that my skin tingles. He brings his other hand to cup my face to, so I feel completely under his control.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He asks carefully, his eyes searching mine, "This life will never slow down. Someone will always want to take you from me."

"I'm sure," I whisper, not even hesitating.

His lips are on mine before the words are even fully out of my mouth. My heart leaps out of my chest as I melt into him, pulling him closer as our lips move in perfect harmony. My entire body feels like liquid and lightning all at once and he's the only thing left in the world. One of his hands finds their way into my hair, leaving me completely at his mercy. When he finally pulls back, he leaves a breath of a kiss on my nose and then my forehead before tilting my chin up to meet his gaze.

"You've been more to me for a long time now, doll" Bucky breathes, and a shiver rushes down my spine. He's so beautiful. A smile twitches onto my lips as I caress his stubble-covered cheek.

"I think how I feel is pretty obvious, considering I did tackle a fully grown man for you," I remark, and a surprised laugh rumbles out of him. The sound nearly turns me weak.

"And it was probably the scariest and hottest thing you've ever done," Bucky assures. This time I laugh and kiss him again, but we're both more serious after it.

"This life may not be safe," he begins, his thumb running over my lip, "But you always will be. As long as I'm here, you'll always be safe."

"I love you, Bucky" I whisper, my words a promise. He freezes, something new and bright flashing through his gaze. I don't think he's ever heard those words before.

"I've always loved you, and I always will," he swears, and for a moment my life is completely and totally content.

It doesn't matter what's happening around us, it doesn't even matter that I nearly died a few times in one day. With Bucky by my side, I feel invincible, I feel strong and capable.

"I don't think I can be your secretary any more," I whisper, and his smile is back, turning my insides to butterflies.

"No, I've got a better idea," he smirks, kissing me quickly.

The next day, Bucky would introduce me to the mob as his equal partner.

The King and Queen of crime.

And it would stay like that for the rest of our time.

I don't know when exactly Bucky Barnes became more than my boss, maybe it was always. Maybe I should have known I was in trouble from the beginning, but it's the best kind of trouble. So, if you ever get the chance to do something a little crazy, maybe something you never thought you would, but it just feels right, then you need to do it.

You never know who will become more to you in the process.

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fear-is-truth · 6 months

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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐧 x flu! reader

in his mind, there was a hint of selfish delight at the prospect of you staying home from school and spending the entire day with him.

but then he realized that you’re suffering, which it made him feel extremely guilty.

so he makes it his personal mission to make you feel better. (succeeded)

since he’s a ghost, he’s immune to your illness.

he brings you extra blankets and tissues, and anything you ask for. he’ll go get it, zero complaints.

“can i get you water? food? medicine?”

“can i have a popsicle?”

“are you sure? you really shouldn't..."

“please?”

“…what flavour do you want?”

you play cards, listening to nirvana or just talk about random stuff.

he steals your cough drops when he thinks you’re not watching. he’s dead, but still has a sweet tooth.

lacing your fingers together while spooning. (the first time he assumes the position of the big spoon!)

𝐊𝐢𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 x common cold! reader

takes the day off to look after you.

"kit, it's just a common cold, you really don't have to-"

“in sickness and in health, mrs walka. don’t you remember?”

he brings you extra blankets and wool socks if you’re feeling chilly.

a damp cloth for your forehead if you’re burning up.

he protects your peace when you’re sleeping.

“no, don't wake mommy! she’s sleepy and needs some rest. how 'bout you and thomas go make her a get-well card?”

does the household chores while you rest. ( laundry, cooking, helping the kids with their homework)

checks on your temperature every hour.

“my grandma swears by this chicken noodle soup recipe, nothing some soup and a cuddle can’t fix.”

this man is an absolute angel sent from heaven.

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 x common cold! reader

“you have a fever, sweetness. of course i'm not going anywhere.”

would be grossed-out the pile of used tissues on your bedside table. but he’s too polite to mention it.

he’ll call someone to clean it up, though.

brings your hand to his lips, murmuring sweet words. suddenly you’re not sure if the heat on your cheeks is from the fever or because of james.

pampers you like a literal goddess.

personally supervises the kitchen staff to prepare your favorite dishes, then has them delivered to you on a gleaming silver tray.

fresh bouquets of flowers.

“you need to drink the tonic, love. how else will your cold go away?”

“aw, darling you look miserable... need me to kill someone for your entertainment?”

he’ll tell you stories about his past travels; exotic places he’d visited. (or his most prided murders, if you’re into that sort of thing too)

𝐊𝐚𝐢 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 x stomach flu! reader

he leans against the bathroom door, face devoid of any emotion, while you hunch over the toilet, vomiting.

eventually, he lets out a sigh and squats down beside you, gently pulling back your hair away as you continue to retch into the toilet.

“you look like absolute crap.”

after you’re done, kai stands up. without warning, he scoops you up, bridal style.

“puke on me, and i’ll drop you.”

he carries you downstairs to the basement and dumps you rather unceremoniously onto the couch. hands you a bucket.

then he ignores you. acts like he doesn’t give a flying fuck about your well-being.

sits on the floor working on his laptop, occasionally sneaking glances at your direction.

“you can watch tv if you want. just not american housewife.”

“i’m going to the kitchen. need anything?”

mansplains to you about the importance of health and self-preservation.

“why can’t you take better care of yourself, huh?” he grumbles as he tossed you a throw blanket.

“this one’s gonna cost you. big time.” he groused as he set a glass of water and two tylenol on the coffee table.

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ! 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 x common cold! reader

tells his frat brothers to kindly leave the two of you alone.

he dots on you. babies you, even.

“come on. take the medicine, i’ll get you some ice cream after you’ve taken it”

keeps a steady supply of throat lozenges and tissues within your reach, anticipating your needs before you even ask.

draws a warm bath for you when he sees you shivering.

lends you his own clothes to wear.

you looked so adorable in his hoodie and sweatpants, he stared at you.

you watch a movie on his laptop, snuggled against each other in bed.

soothing back rubs!

“you're going to get sick if you keep coddling me like this, ky.”

“you won’t get me sick. well. you might, but i don’t mind.”

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

✧. a/n ─ my apologies for not including jimmy and austin.. will update when i finish watching! pls excuse the crappy writing, english is not my first language.

✧. part 2: the evans when they are sick

©️@brknlamb

#american horror story #tate langdon #kai anderson #evan peters #james patrick march #kit walker #kyle spencer #tate langdon x reader #kai anderson x y/n #jpm x reader #kit walker x reader #ahs #tate langdon x y/n #kai anderson x reader #ahs imagine #the evans headcanons

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aniismydaddy · 11 days

Text

Tinkering- James Kelly

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! smut, cheating, unprotected piv, semi-public, f receiving oral, slut shaming pairing: neighbor!James Kelly x fem!reader summary: you're home from college for the summer, but that doesn't mean the fun has to end. a/n: enjoy & happy birthday hayden!!

summers, you dreaded the summers in your hometown. None of your college age friends were there and your parents, when they weren't working or arguing, paid you no attention. You looked for attention and fun anywhere you could find it and well, James, your married next-door neighbor wasn't exempt. When he wasn't bent over under the hood of someone's car, he was outside dragging a cigarette and checking you out... he was anything but inconspicuous.

The one night you actually have plans in your shithole hometown, the obvious happens. "Fuck!" you yell as you turn the key in your car, and it doesn't start. You hop out and slam the door angrily, stuck at home again for another night. "Just my fucking luck." you hiss before leaning over the hood of your car.

James was outside having his normal evening cigarette drag when you yelled, and he decided to come take a look. On his way over, he took a careful mental note of the scenery, young twenty-something girl, shortest sage green dress known to man, black lace thong begging to be ripped off, and a body that was sure to turn heads. "Won't start?" he asked taking a long look at you up and down.

You look up frustrated, but also nervous. "Of course he had to fucking be outside, great! At least I look hot though." you think to yourself. You'd spent days checking James out from your bedroom window or the front porch, and he was HOT too, dark hair, blue eyes you've been dying to get lost in, slim build, but definitely got a bit of muscle under those button-up shirts and tank tops, and a face that you'd never forget.

"Hello?" he asked, waving his hand in front of your face. A small mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as you stood there watching him and mute. "Won't start?"

"Oh... uh no it won't. I'm on my way to a party, well... I was and then my car wouldn't start, so yeah" you sigh deeply. "I never have car problems and of course on the one day I'm supposed to leave this shitty town and have some fun, I can't."

James lets out a small chuckle "I could take a look at it if you want me to... could be something quick that'll get you to your party tonight... No charge." he offers as he grinds his cigarette out on the asphalt with his shoe.

"You're gonna look at my car? and for free?" you ask, cutting your eyes at him. "What's the catch?"

"The catch?" he says feigning ignorance. "No catch sweetheart, I fix your car because I like fixing cars, and you get to your party, which I can tell must be pretty important by the choice of attire." he teases manipulatively while looking you up and down.

You pull down your dress in a poor attempt to make it longer, not realizing how revealing your outfit is until he mentioned it. "Uh... yeah sure... you can take a look at it" you reply coyly. You watch as James heads into his garage to grab some tools and return. You watch as he pops the hood and starts poking all around your car, or at least that's what it looked like to you, you don't know a single thing about cars, but how to drive them.

"Well, bad news sweetheart, you're not gonna make it to your party tonight, but I can get it fixed for you tomorrow." He says as he shuts the hood of your car. "I'll start early so I'll be done in time in case you have plans." He says eyeing you once more.

You sigh deeply "Thanks, that'll be fine." You part ways with him for the night and retreat into the house. The next morning you decide to sleep in, since your car wasn't working, and you can't go but so far anyway. After a shower and breakfast, you decide to walk over to James' garage and check on your car. "Making progress?" you ask curiously.

James looked up at you from under the hood of your car. You were dressed in short black shorts and a tight cropped shirt. "You always dress like that?" he asks feigning concern.

You look down at your outfit choice. It was particularly hot that day, so you didn't see the issue in your clothes. "Dress like what? It's like 100 degrees out here" you say slightly annoyed.

James chuckles softly "Do you always dress in something short and tight... is that like your thing or are you trying to tempt me" he says, his eyes never leaving the task at hand.

You feel your stomach start to do backflips at his words. He was hot and he knew you thought so too. "Both, if you're into that." you say trying to sound calm, though you liked to know he paid attention to you.

James stops and looks up at you "I'm a married man princess." he says while wiping his hands on one of the shop rags.

You huff, taking the shot you had been dying for. "I see you checking me out on my morning jogs or whenever we're both outside for that matter, so don't play that "married man" card with me." You fold your arms as you wait for his response.

James laughs while continuing to survey you. "Bold. I like bold, and I said that I'm married, not that I'm faithful." he smirks as he cutely taps your nose.

You feel the lump in your throat grow at his admission. Married, hot, and willing to cheat? it's not something you've tried before, but you're definitely into it. "So then why are you married if you're just gonna cheat on her?" you ask, though you don't give a damn, you just wanna sound less like a shit young slut.

"Do you really give a damn? or is this one of those conversations that's supposed to make you feel less guilty if I decide to fuck you." he asked, though he knew the latter was the answer.

"You want the truth or the socially acceptable truth" you laugh softly, there wasn't shit funny about this interaction, but he was so hot, and you were wet and needy.

James laughs too "I won't be needing any answer sweetheart, I already know. Keep coming around here dressed like that and I might have to take you up on that offer." he winks at you.

"You don't wanna take me up on it now? I only see one car in the yard, so that means your wife's gone and I can tell you're happy to see me" you joke at the sight of the growing bulge in his jeans. You move fully into the garage, only standing inches apart from each other

James' mischievous smirk turns into a wide mischievous grin. "If you've always found me so attractive, what's taken you so long to come over here."

"My car worked before, it doesn't now so that's why I'm here, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve a parting gift for all your hard work" you say, tracing along the waistband of his jeans.

James was so tempted to just bend you over and take you right there, but he tried to focus on the task at hand first. "I... I uh should probably finish tinkering with your car first if you plan on going out tonight." He says playing with a lock of your hair, poorly resisting temptation

"Well what if I need to be tinkered with..." you say in a low seductive tone

James laughs, feeling his body start to heat up "You're a needy one aren't you." he says seductively before pulling you into a lust-filled kiss. The kiss was soft, but gradually got nastier as your tongues fought for dominance. His hands began to roam your body, softly squeezing your ass and gripping your hips.

"Mmm" you moan softly. You couldn't believe you were actually going through with this, especially considering how you knew that he's married. You pulled away slightly, finally able to get lost in those blue eyes. "God James, I want you so badly" you whimper as your reach down feeling his growing cock.

James's eyes darken with anticipation. "I've wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you." He smacks your ass hard and grabs it firmly "Walking around in all that tight shit just for me?"

The kissing resumed, deep and passionate and everything they both wanted. James let his hands roam, up and under your shirt and in one swift motion, your shirt was on the ground. He quickly popped the hooks on the back of your bra, allowing your soft perky tits with erect nipples to spill out. "Just what I fantasized about" he muttered as he nibbled on the soft skin of your neck.

"You fantasize about me? hmm?" you tease as he lifts you onto his work station table

"When you bouce around dressed like that, you leave me no choice." James lifts your hips with one hand and pulls off your shorts with the other. He drags his index and middle finger up and down the lace fabric of your panties. "So wet and needy huh? That's all for me?" he growls before ripping off your panties and discarding them.

James spread your legs wide and stepped back to take in the view. It was true, you were soaked and it was all for him. It felt like you had already orgasmed and he hadn't even fucked you yet. James started slow, kissing your inner thighs and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue.

"Please..." you begged softly for him to finally just tongue fuck your needy pussy. He sunk his face into your warm pussy, using his mouth to suck your clit and please you just right. He licked and sucked in all the right places, after all he was an experienced man. "James, please don't stop" you scream as you grab his hair, pushing him deeper into your needy cunt.

James lets out a soft hum into your pussy "mmm, taste so good sweetheart, just like I knew you would." The wet sounds of him slurping and tongue fucking your wet and aching pussy filled the garage. "God you're so good at that James... I love the way you suck on my clit" you moan loudly as he continues his pleasure-filled assault.

it didn't take long and he knew what he was doing, all you juices came flowing out like a waterfall, coating his face and shirt with your sweet release. "That's it baby, that's my good girl... show me how much you want it." his words were almost enough to make you cream again, he was just that fucking sexy.

You helped James pull his shirt off and unbutton his jeans before hungrily pulling down his bottoms. His thick erect cock sprung free, the tip leaking with precum. Hot and a fat dick? He was the whole package and you're living for it. He used the tip of his cock to tease your folds and leaking entrance. He'd push in slightly, but not all the way, just enough to hear you gasp and see you squirm.

"I need all of it James please... I cant take it anymore" you beg relentlessly as he continues to tease you. "Beg for it" he growls as he slaps the tip on your clit causing you to let out a soft moan "Please James I cant take it anymore, I need that cock" you beg again and again

"Good girl" He praises as he fully pushes into you. "So wet and tight... such a needy little cum slut. Yeah?" He growls as he thrust into you hard and deep. He grips your hips tightly with one hand and uses the free hand to caress your tits. "You're so fucking sexy, you know that?" he says as he rests his forehead against yours and thrusts into you. With every hungry thrust, he keeps eye contact.

"Mm, fuck you feel so good in me like that" you moan loudly. Your knuckles go white from gripping the edge of the table to stabilize yourself. "mhmm, mhmm, harder please, faster" you beg as he relentlessly claims you as his own. The pleasure washes over you, causing you to close your eyes. "Look at me when I fuck you, look me in the eyes like the nasty little whore you want me to think you are" James barks as he drills into your leaking pussy over and over.

Your walls start to clench around him as your reach your peak and you can feel he's getting close too, with his thrusts becoming more ragged. "f-fuck I'm gonna cum James, I'm gonna cum" you scream. "Me too babygirl, you want my cum like a good little slut?" His lips crash into yours as he fucks his cum right into you, not slowing down til' he's pumped you with every inch of his warm white seed.

"Oh god, oh god... that was AMAZING" you say through labored breaths. "Amazing is an understatement babydoll" James says as he kisses your forehead. "Now that we've had a little fun, I got work to do" He leaves you with one last sloppy kiss, that lingers, before adjusting his clothes and getting back to work.

You adjust your clothes and head back next door to your house, to watch from you window like you never even met.

#anakin x you #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen smut #anakin smut #james kelly smut #smut #james kelly x reader #sw #sw cast #sexy content #kenobi #fanfic #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen

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singmyaubade · 1 year

Text

cinnamon girl

fwb!james potter x female!reader

summary: there are things i want to say to you but i'll just let you live.

word count: 2.2k

warning: mentions of smut and angst.

FIRST CHAPTER: VIOLET

Being friends with benefits with James Potter wasn't the easiest nor the most boring. You didn't even fully understand how you got into this predicament.

All you remember is James's obvious charm and his humor which had always enchanted you and he was always quick with his tongue.

The only problem was you were falling in love with him.

You had warned him this would happen but he had always thought you were talking about him which he assured you, he wouldn't.

You both were an outlet for all of your bullshit and problems, what made it worse was that you were friends with all of the Marauders, hanging out with them every day.

All of these thoughts passed as you were laying in his bed at this very second. You were stopped when you heard him groan, "Mmm, good morning." He smirked, kissing your neck delicately.

You gave him a polite smile, sitting up while you fiddled with your fingers, "James, I think we need to ta-" You attempted.

"Too early for talking," He moaned into his pillow, "Did you wanna get breakfast?" He asked, rising up.

You rolled your eyes, "Sure."

He gasped, "Did you just roll your eyes at me?" He looked at you with daring eyes.

"Don't." You giggled as he lunged forward, tickling you as you pleaded, trying to grasp air.

"Come on, say it!" He yelled, tickling you.

"Uncle! Uncle!" You screamed as he stood on his knees, flexing.

You kicked his stomach slightly as he toppled over you, "Dirty play." He groaned.

"Curse Remus for teaching you that saying." You whined.

"You are only mad because I can take you down." He boasted as you scoffed, remembering his body on top of you.

You tried pushing his body off of you, "Jesus lay off the bread Potter."

He pinned your arms to the sheets, looking at you as you grew flustered, "You know you like me a little chubby." He winked, kissing your lips harshly.

You could feel his entire being, the smell of home and butterbeer. He felt like warmth on a rainy day or running through a field of flowers.

He lifted his head, breaking the kiss, "Guess what?" He asked.

You smiled, "What?"

"Lily actually talked to me yesterday," Your smile fell, "I mean she actually talked to me! Not even an insult but she asked how Quidditch was going, and she initiated it!" He excitingly said, still on top of you.

"Good for you James." You tried your best to sound happy.

He grinned brighter, "And we might even go on a date, I mean Dorcas said Lily was actually considering it." A pang in your heart, "Isn't that amazing?" He laughed in pure happiness.

"Yes, it is James, congratulations." You simply said.

He said nothing more but instead kissed you in response.

He pulled back, "I'm just gonna go take a quick shower then we can meet the boys downstairs." He stood, "You know I do miss them but I do not miss sharing a room with them and I'm sure you don't either." He winked, grabbed his towel, and left for the washroom.

James being a prefect had its perks like a new room and being able to not wake up to a bunch of ruckuses by the rest of the Marauders.

But it didn't help with your heart, hanging out with him more often and having sex more often.

You knew James wasn't using you, you knew that he thought you wanted it too which you did but, you wanted all of James.

You wanted the label, you pleaded for it.

But you knew it would only complicate things and James was a boy, he wouldn't know what to do if you told him how you truly felt about him.

You just wished you had never agreed to this in the first place. Remus had advised you not to and you knew he was right but the way James treated you, it felt nice.

He never neglected to tell you how beautiful you were or how grateful he was to have you, even telling you that he 'loved' you.

You knew he loved you but not in the way that you loved him.

He always showered you with kisses and affection. On Valentines Day, he even got you an entire bouquet of chocolate roses. And on Christmas, he got you a perfume that smelled of everything you loved.

Lavender, peaches, violet, him.

You wished life could be easier.

You knew that in another universe, you and James probably had three kids, all of them running around like crazy while James chased them around and you baked chocolate muffins and smiled brightly about your life.

You could only wish it would happen in this one.

You chose to stop pondering on things that aren't real and get ready for classes.

During the walk to the dining hall, James could not stop talking about Lily and how he was excited that she was finally noticed him in a good way.

"Are we still on for tonight?" He asked, "I was thinking we could sneak into the kitchens, just us."

"Yeah sure." You said.

"It's a date." He joked, wrapping his arm around you. You did an awkward laugh before sitting down in the middle of James and Remus with Peter and Sirius across from you all.

"About time," Sirius exasperated, "I know you guys like fucking but it's taking a toll on me."

You rolled your eyes, throwing a piece of bread at him, "Don't be mad because you don't get laid." You said, grabbing an apple.

"Y/n, I think you forgot who you are talking to." He scoffed.

You shook your head, putting some eggs on your plate as James started telling Sirius and Peter about Lily. Remus looked at you in tiredness.

"There is no way you haven't told him how you felt yet." He whispered.

You shushed him despite the fact of James being next to you, "There is nothing to tell." You whispered.

"Mhm." He hummed.

A bell signaled everyone to get to their classes as you started going, "Y/n, let me walk you!" James yelled.

"James, we have the same class as the rest of the boys." You giggled.

"I was trying to be romantic." He pouted as you hit him softly with your shoulder.

Romantic? That made absolutely no sense but that was his beautiful humor.

You felt a hand on your waist as you looked at James, his expression didn't falter, still laughing at a joke he had made.

You liked that he could comforately do that without caring if people thought you guys were a couple or not but you knew it meant nothing to him, just a friendly thing.

"So Y/n," Sirius wrapped his arm around you as James moved his own hand off, looking a bit pissed off, "Are you going to sit with me today?" He asked, giving you a not-so subtle wink.

You played along, "What do I get out of it Black?" You smirked, looking up at him.

"Well.." He paused, "I can make you come in five minutes with this finger," He held up his ring finger, "Under the desk." He winked.

Remus and James grimaced as you laughed, "In your dreams Black." You left his arms, hitting him lightly in the stomach.

He pouted, "How come she will fuck James and not me? I am way better in bed."

"No, you aren't mate." James scoffed, "She's in love with my tongue." He said, sticking his tongue out at Sirius.

Sirius gave him a mocking face as you all entered the classroom. You noticed that Lily was sitting at an empty desk, looking at James already.

You sat down at an empty desk, hoping that James would sit with you. You looked at him as well, he was looking at you then back at Lily.

He walked forward to you as a wave of relief passed over you, "I'll see you tonight, okay?" He said to you as disbelief took your expression entirely.

He didn't wait for an answer, sitting down next to Lily.

You couldn't believe that he had done that to you, you never thought James would be so cruel.

You sat there in silence, just staring straight across from you.

Peter sat down next to you, taking your hand in his as a way of understanding.

You squeezed his hand, thanking him as you looked over to see James and Lily laughing about something.

Your heart was breaking at the sight of it all.

The class seemed as if it took an eternity to end. Usually, you had James there to make jokes and make the class worth the misery of Slughorn's long lectures but instead, he was making jokes and making the class worth the misery for Lily.

You saw Lily and James exchanging their last words, smiling at each other as Lily left, blushing ferociously.

James came beaming, rushing to tell you all about his encounter with Lily and how well it had gone.

It was actually giving you a headache.

You cut him off finally, "I'm gonna go lay down actually."

"Are you all right?" James asked.

"Yeah, just tired." You replied convincingly.

"Oh okay, I'm gonna go hang out with Lily at Hogsmeade for a bit after lunch but I'll be back before tonight." He mentioned before talking to the rest of the Marauders, not waiting for your response.

You turned away and made it toward your dorm.

You couldn't help but be pissed at James for even treating you like this. Usually, it was annoying but it wasn't intolerable or something that made you sick.

It was as if James couldn't care for your well-being today.

You weren't used to this James, the James that fully neglected you for Lily Evans.

He might've been not that attentive but only before Quidditch matches, never because of Lily.

You knew he cared about your feelings but today, it felt like you completely dismissed them.

You did actually have a headache though.

Taking a nap would most likely fix it faster than a bunch of classes and boring lectures.

----

You awoke after hours, the buzzing in your head finally being non-existent.

All of your dorm mates were in bed so dinner had already passed, it was time for you to meet up with James.

You had put on your prettiest set of pink pajamas, spraying the best perfume you had that smelled of violet and citrus.

Sneaking in the kitchens would be your only problem sadly due to the excessive guarding of the corridors.

Usually, you would use the invisibility cloak but James had it and there was no possible way of going to his dorm and getting it from him.

You risked being caught, sneaking to the kitchens, using your wand as a small flashlight.

Thankfully, you didn't get caught and you made it to the kitchens. No elves were in sight as you grabbed tubs of ice cream, and whipped cream with chocolate syrup and cherries.

You sat down on a stool, not wanting to start eating without James.

You had waited an hour and thirty minutes so far, but no sight of James yet. You were worried that he was so tired that he forgot.

The ice cream started melting and you had to use a freezing spell to stop it.

You started nodding off, about to sleep before you heard two voices laughing.

You looked over to see James and Lily laughing, his jacket around her shoulders as you were internally fuming.

They both stopped laughing at the sight of you.

"Oh Y/n," He looked at you in shock, "I totally forgot about tonight." He looked entirely guilty.

You didn't respond, but instead, you got off of the stool and grabbed your wand.

You went towards the doorway where they were, "Excuse me." You excused yourself as Lily moved and James didn't.

"Y/n." He said, looking at your eyes that were glossy.

"I said excuse me, James." Your voice broke.

He moved beside you as you stormed off toward your dorm.

You heard footsteps charging after you as you looked behind you, "Stop." You sobbed as James stopped in his tracks, "I'm not going to talk about this, go back to your date." You demanded.

"You are important to me." He said.

"More important than her?" You asked, tears falling down your cheeks.

He didn't know what to say, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

You turned away, "I always put you first." You said before looking back again.

"I understand if we can't be more than whatever the fuck we are but at least have enough respect for me to not make me wait for you." You argued.

"I never meant to hurt you," James said, guilty.

"But you continue to do it and it's shameless," You sobbed, "You know no matter what, I will always be there for you, I will always be at your beck and call and you know it's because I love you." You said.

He stood speechless, "But you used me as a placeholder for her until she gave in." You cried.

"I never used you, I thought it was mutual-" He tried explaining.

"I tried to tell you this morning how I felt and you ignored me, you didn't even let me try to tell you." You stated, "But you never care to listen to me, you only use me for sex." You spat.

"Y/n, I-" He started but you both heard footsteps.

"You are out of time, James." You said, turning your heel and running off to your dorm.

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s4geblack · 10 months

Text

and then they were roommates james potter x fem!reader idiots to lovers college au

"you're getting kicked out?" lily whispered, shock enveloping her words. you were just as shocked as she was, your grip on on your phone tightening.

"yeah. apparently her boyfriend's moving in or something, i don't know." you rolled your eyes; you had never liked your previous roommate but she did offer the best rent and did her share of chores. though her boyfriend was a douche and you hated having to see him pretty much everyday.

you groaned, slipping farther down in your seat. lily sympathetically patted your back when her phone started buzzing.

"oh it's marlene," lily mentioned, picking up her phone to reply. the two were the grossest couple to be around; you still put up with it though.

"what's she saying?" you laid your head on your arms on the table in front of you, tilted in a way that you could see lily rapidly type something.

"oh lord, you're probably gonna love marlene more than i do at this point - she knows someone who needs a roommate!"

"so you're james potter?" you ask, flashing a smile at the bespectacled boy, his messy brown hair seemed messy in the way that he spent two hours minimum every morning on it.

"yep, pleasure to meet you." he reached out his hand, mirroring your grin. charming.

"the pleasure's all mine." you shook his hand, his grip was warm and firm. and he was handsome. and lean. and tall.

"let me show you around." he guided you inside, showing you the kitchen which was open and connected to the lounge. the two bedrooms were on opposite ends of the house and each had their own bathroom which you were extremely thankful for.

after the (short) tour, you both ended up sitting on the stools around the kitchen island drinking soft drinks from the fridge.

"so, what is it that you do?" you asked, wiping the condensation from the can on your dark jeans. the white tee you wore was sticking to your skin from the heat. you'd have to ask about the air con later.

"i'm doing photography at uni. what about you?" he said, taking another a sip of his cherry-flavored drink. you don't get how he could like something so sweet.

"literature. i met lily in my first class actually." you remember the sparkling redhead who somehow wiggled into your life and never left.

"ah, mckinnon's girl, right?" he asked, as if he vaguely remembered lily from a group hangout.

"yeah." with that you fell into a slightly awkward silence although you both didn't mind the quiet. you could hear the fizz of your drinks, as you both drank. you looked straight ahead, only looking at him through your peripheral vision. he, apparently, didn't know of such etiquette because he rested his head on his arm on the kitchen island, staring at you openly.

you tried to ignore it but now the heat was getting to you and your jeans started to feel uncomfortable. your can of coldness was empty. james was still staring. you zeroed in on one of the fridge magnets even though you couldn't really make out what was it trying to show because of the distance.

"does the air con not work?" you turned your head to look at him. at the sound of your voice, he lifted his head and grinned.

"no, it works." his answer made you feel a little ridiculous. and here you thought you were being considerate, assuming his air con broke or something.

"then why don't you have it on?"

"i don't get hot that easily." this man was getting even more ridiculous. you couldn't help but laugh.

"oh my god. go," you shove him off his stool, "turn it on for me?" you tilt your head, looking at him through your eyelashes in a last-ditch effort to persuade him.

"'m going." you blow a kiss noisily, getting up and grabbing both empty cans and throwing them in the dustbin.

later, you settled into bed. half your things were still packed into flimsy cardboard boxes that lily helped tape to perfection. you were grinning as you pulled out your phone to message lily.

u were right i probably love marlene more than you do rn

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star-writes-sometimes · 2 months

Text

green butter

word count - 2.2k

c.w. - drug use (marijuana, edibles), reader is said to be shorter than remus, idiots in love, pining, implied insecure reader

a/n - i don’t know if i liked how this turned out so i may rewrite and change the ending idk yet

—

you could hear remus snoring from where you were in the kitchen. the rest of your apartment was silent except for the soft snores. if you ever tried to mention it when he was awake, remus would always deny that he made any kind of noise when he slept, instead choosing to tease you about your habit of sleep talking when you’ve had too much to drink.

you were doing the dishes, cleaning up from making green butter earlier in the day. remus had been out the night before with sirius and james and he was exhausted. he was in your apartment for less than 10 minutes before he passed out on your couch.

you finished cleaning the last mixing bowl and left it on the drying rack. you dried your hands on a tea towel, threw it over your shoulder and made your way to your living room. you collapsed on the comfy armchair closest to the kitchen and simply watched remus sleep.

as if he could feel your gaze on him, he twitched in his sleep and rolled over so you could no longer see his face. you huffed in annoyance and used your sock covered foot to reach out and poke his shoulder.

“wake up please lupin.”

he just groaned and shifted tiredly.

“pleaaaseeee.”

he exhaled sharply and lifted his head up, his annoyed gaze meeting your amused one.

“good morning starshine. the earth says hello!”

“i prefer gene wilder.” remus runs a hand over his scarred face.

“i like ‘em both,” you moved to tuck your feet under you, “makes me feel bad choosing between two things.”

“really?” he smirked, “who do you prefer out of james and sirius?”

“well currently sirius cause he helped me do my makeup a few days ago but it changes depending on which one annoys me less.”

“good choice. james probably would’ve poked your eye out.” he finally sat up, smiling lazily at you, “whats the time?”

“it’s around five so you successfully napped through the afternoon.”

“good that was the aim.” remus stretched, lifting his shirt up slightly, exposing his happy trail.

“do you want dinner, love?”

“no thanks, bunny, but i’ll take some cookies if you’ve got any.”

“i actually need to make some for james and i was gonna make extra,” you paused to yawn, “but i seemed to have misplaced my motivation.”

“aww c’mon bunny,” he got off the couch and knelt in front of your chair, “please make some cookies.”

you tried desperately not to give into his masterful puppy dog eyes, “i thought you were too tired to do anything.”

“i had my nap, now i want time with my super awesome amazing girl who makes the most awesome amazing oatmeal weed cookies.” he pouted up at you, pulling you hand towards him and kissing it, “please baby?”

your resolve couldn’t crumble quicker, “fine, move you big lug i’ll go get started.”

you pushed him aside and walked back into the kitchen while remus trailed behind you closely.

"rem love, can you grab the sugar please?" you asked while pulling the eggs and butter.

"mhmm." he hummed in response.

you grabbed the vanilla extract and a bowl and started to cut up the butter into cubes.

remus came up behind you and placed the sugar on the counter then wrapped his arms around you.

"ooo green butter," he placed his chin onto your shoulder, pressing into you completely.

"yeah i made it earlier."

remus reached his hand around a grabbed a cube and quickly popped it in his mouth, "tastes great, bunny."

you swatted him on the side, "don't eat the butter."

"hey that's abuse." he grabbed another bit of butter and popped it into his mouth.

"remus if you eat the butter you'll get high before the cookies are even ready."

"no i won't," he ate another cube, "i'm not a lightweight like you."

"i'm not saying you're a lightweight, love."

he reached for another piece of butter but you slapped his hand before he could grab it.

"whats with all the abuse today?" he asked.

"go sit down and stop eating butter," you pointed to one of the kitchen stools on the other side of the bench you were working at.

remus watched you intently as you made the cookies. whenever you turned your back momentarily though, he would reach across and sneak another cube of the homemade butter.

eventually, once you got the first batch of cookies in the oven you start to clean up, including putting away all the ingredients.

“rem?”

“hmmm?”

“did you eat more butter?”

“you have no proof of that.”

“i made 500g of butter. i used 250g. there should be 250g left. this isn't 250g.”

“how can you tell that just by looking at it?”

“remus i'm a baker. i do this professionally.”

remus smiled guiltily, “whoops? i’m sorry i’ll help you make more butter tomorrow”

“rem, i couldn't give less of a fuck about the butter, i’m worried about how high you're about to get.”

“i told you, i am not a lightweight i'm not gonna get high off some butter.”

you roll your eyes and finish cleaning up the kitchen, “whatever you say remsy.”

—

forty two minutes later and remus was face down on your kitchen floor.

he groaned loudly as you took the third batch of cookies out of the oven. the room already smelled of a pleasant mix of weed and fresh baked cookies but opening the oven intensified it, hurting remus' already sore brain.

“it's cold, my face is cold, it's on something cold, the room smells, smells like a headache.” he babbled, voice muffled slightly by the ground.

“you are face first on the tiles, that's why your face is cold and the headache you smell is weed."

“ngh, no,” he protested and rolled over onto his back, “weed smells like awesome and this is a headache smell, are you baking a headache?”

you couldn't help the giggle that escaped you as you look down at his confused face, “you've overdone it, remmy.”

“noooo,” he whined and covered his face, “‘m not a lightweight.”

“you're not, darling,” you cooed and sat down on the floor next to him. you gently ran your hand through his hair.

he opened his eyes at the touch but immediately hissed and squinted, “bright light, there's a real bright light, i think i'm dying.”

you looked up at the ceiling and tried not to laugh, “that's the kitchen light, and the dying feeling is, once again, the weed.”

he rapidly sat up after you said that and stared at you intensely, “the weed is doing this to me?”

you couldn't help the giggle that slipped through, “yes, love.”

he looked very serious and glared at the ground before he muttered, “that fuckin' giraffe was right.”

it was your turn to be confused, “giraffe- do you mean harold?”

“that scary fucker was right.”

“you were scared of harold the giraffe?”

“he was tall and i couldn't trust his eyes.” he said with such a strong gaze you almost forgot how ridiculous the conversation was, “is he coming to take me?”

“h-harold? you think harold is coming to take you?”

“yeah, i broke his rules, i did drugs and now i'm paying the price, he's gonna come for me.”

you turned your head to laugh silently, not wanting to mock him (while he was like this, you were definitely mocking him in the morning), “love, harold won't come for you, and even if he did you're not a kid anymore, you're tall too.”

he nodded, like he understood, “yeah i’m tall, i could take that skinny twat.” he nodded, seemingly calm. until he once again jolted and looked at you extremely seriously, “you're short.”

“thank you for noticing rem,” you said, slightly sarcastically.

“harold will come for you because he knows i care about you. he'll take you from me.” he said in a panicky tone.

your touched by his care for you but also recognise the absurdity of what he's saying, “remmy, i promise i’m safe, i'm here with you.”

he gave you a look of determination and nodded. as quick as he could in his intoxication he wrapped his arms around your middle and re-laid down on the floor with you.

“remmy, what are you doing?” you asked, curious, not bothered by his actions.

“protecting you.” he said, voice muffled from where it was buried in your neck.

“hmm thank you,” you hummed out.

he held on tightly and quietly sat there holding you for a few blissful minutes, but the biting cold of the tiles wasn't the most comfortable in the february weather.

“remus, lovie?”

he tapped you as his way of responding, not loosening his grip.

“can we go to bed?”

he squeezed you tighter, “‘m not tired and i need to protect you.”

“i'm tired baby,” you said with a slight breathy laugh.

“i need you to be safe,” he mumbled against your neck.

“we'll stay together the whole time.”

“promise?” he said softly.

“pinky promise.”

at that he slowly rolled off of you but he made sure his hand was touching some part of you at all time - like he was scared you would disappear.

you went to your bedroom with remus following close behind, your fingers tightly threaded together. when you both stopped, remus re-wrapped his arms around you tightly, his large hands going underneath your loose tshirt.

“rem,” you whined softly, “what are you doing now?”

“‘m not close enough to you, need to get closer,” he mumbled and kissed the top of your head.

you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, “i don’t think we can get much closer than this.”

“sure we can bunny,” he said with a hint of mischief in his tone, “we can be much closer,”

“we already see each other everyday, spend most of our free time together, and-” his thumb rubbed against your ribs causing you to giggle slightly, “and that. how much closer can we be?”

you looked up at him just in time to see his smirk. he pressed a kiss to your temple and used his free hand to brush your hair behind your ear, “nowhere near close enough,” he said softly and kissed your cheek.

you held your breath. his touch made you shiver. your skin erupted in goosebumps and you leaned closer to him. he gripped your chin and looked into your eyes.

his eyes were bloodshot.

he was high.

you stepped back slightly at the reminder. you grabbed his hands in your own and led him towards your bed, “c’mon rem, bedtime.”

he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, “what? bunny, i want us to be closer.”

“you’re high, love, you’ll feel different in the morning,” you said softly, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“no, i won’t, why do you never believe me?” he asked.

“because you only say this stuff when you’re high.”

he slumped over with his forehead resting on your shoulder, “‘m not saying it cause i’m high, the high makes me say the truth.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat and pulled away from him. you sat down on your bed and patted the spot next to you. he smiled dopily and sat next to you. as soon as he sat he feel backwards, laying on your bed and groaning slightly.

you let out a breathy laugh and shook your head, “you can’t even sit up.”

“you keep me stable.”

“i’m also the one enabling your edible addiction.”

“it doesn’t matter that you’re enabling me ‘cause you always take care of me.”

you laid down next to him and face him. he clumsily pulled the blanket over you both and let his hand rest of the side of your face.

“my pretty little bunny, i’ll make you believe me one day,” he promised. he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close.

you looked at his pretty face, his messy sandy blonde hair, his bloodshot eyes. you wished you could believe him. you wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. you could at least pretend.

he kissed your cheek and held you tightly, “nice and close bunny, i gotta protect you and make you feel loved.”

you melt into him and laugh softly, “protect me?”

“don’t know if that giraffe is comin’ for us.”

“well we can’t have that now can we.”

it was silent for a few moments.

“what do giraffe’s eat?”

“mostly leaves i think, why, love?”

“i don’t like being scared that you’ll be hurt, we should set a trap tomorrow.”

“for harold?”

“yes, you can bake something and i’ll construct a gaint moustrap for the slimy fucker.”

you tried desperately to keep your giggles to yourself, “that’s a job for the morning.”

“i know, you go to sleep, bunnies need lots of rest.”

“goodnight remmy.”

“goodnight bunny.” he kissed your cheek again, “love you.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat once more, “love you too.”

you could pretend it was real.

#remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #dealer!remus x baker!reader #dealer!remus #baker!reader #remus lupin fluff #domestic remus lupin

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redtaylorsversiongirlie · 10 months

Note

Omg so I’m currently obsessed with James but I’ve also been listening to ‘You are in Love’ by Taylor ofc, so I was wondering if you could do a fic based that, please and thank you! No rush ofc!❤️🥹

𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆.

❥ pairings: james potter x fem!reader

❥ summary: short story about you & james falling in love.

❥ warnings: muggle au, a tiny little bit smut

❥ word count: 1,2k

❥ a/n: based off you are in love by the music industry

you noticed james looking at you from the other side of the room as you engaged in a conversation with your friend remus who just happened to get married to his boyfriend sirius.

you locked your eyes with james as you asked, "who is that?"

remus looked to his friend's direction. "oh, that's my close friend, james." he glanced back at you. "i'm gonna be honest with you. he already asked me about you so i'm pretty sure he will ask you out soon."

"really?" you raised an eyebrow and smiled, making james blush.

"yeah. will you say yes?"

you turned to face him and shrugged. "maybe. is he nice?"

remus nodded. "the nicest person i've ever met. a heart of gold he has. don't tell that to sirius, though."

you smiled and mimicked locking your lips.

you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love

it didn't take james more than a second to convince you to go on a date with him as you agreed as soon as he asked you.

you two spend an entire afternoon and evening together and it was getting close to midnight but none of you seemed to want this day to end.

talking to james was so easy. you completed each other. it felt like you two knew each other forever. you loved and hated feeling excited about seeing him again when the date you were on didn't even end yet.

not to mention the fact how beautiful he was. with his dark hair falling down his face over his eyes that gave you a look which made you blush and you only thanked that it was dark so he couldn't tease you.

"are you tired?" he asked when he stopped on the traffic lights. you glanced at the digital clock in his car. it was 11:51pm but you were nowhere near tired.

"no, not at all?" you answered. "you?"

he shook his head. "me neither. you want to grab a coffee?"

you looked at him as if he was crazy and chuckled. "coffee at midnight?"

he nodded. "why not?"

"okay. yeah, why not?"

james quickly found a late-night café nearby and got you two coffees. then, you enjoyed them underneath the night sky. the street lights reflected the chain on your neck.

"look up," he said and when you did, you could feel your shoulders brush. "that's ursa major constellation," he was pointing at the constellation that represented a great bear. "it was one of the forty-eight constellations listed by the second century ad astronomer ptolemy." his finger then pointed to another one. "and that's leo."

"are you interested in stars?" you question and he looked at you, staying quiet for a bit before chuckling and shaking his head.

"not much," he admitted. "but remus told me you do so i just tried to remember everything sirius told me about stars to impress you."

"well," you smiled up at him. "it did impress me."

when you got into his car and he drove you home, comfortable silence prevailed between you two. you could hear it, though.

you were going to fall in love.

you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love

about a month and a half later, you spent the night at james's for the first time. i mean, you spend the night at his place already but this time it was different. you two made love.

you wanted to take things slowly at first but something clicked inside you the night before. you were so attracted to him. not only because of his appearance but because of his personality too. he was so lovely and, god, so bloody beautiful.

the morning after, you woke up in an empty bed. you looked around the room, eyebrows furrowed. you could smell something burnt. after you rubbed your eyes and stretched, you reached for a piece of clothing thrown on the floor and the memories of the night before came into your mind, making you bite your lip and blush. you put on james's white shirt and your underwear before making your way to the kitchen.

you found james sitting on one of the chairs by he table with his head in his hands.

worry was written all over your face as you walked over to him and squeezing his shoulder. "what's going on,?"

he looked up at you with puppy eyes and pointed at the kitchen counter. "wanted to make you toasts for breakfast and i burnt them."

"oh," you tried to stop yourself from laughing. he was so adorable. "well, that's okay, i can make them."

he nodded and as you wanted to go and make the toasts, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and brought you closer. you smiled and ran your hand through his hair, making it even messier as if that was even possible. flashbacks from last night appeared in front of your eyes. how you pulled at his hair when he went down on you and the whimpers he let out because of that.

you made enough toasts for both of you and you ate them in silence, just enjoying each other's presence. james held your hand and played with the ring on your finger.

after breakfast and a short make out session, you, unfortunately, had to get ready for work. james watched you getting undressed with a grin on his face that you rolled your eyes at with a smile.

"keep it," he said when you wanted to give him back his shirt.

"huh?"

"keep it. it looks so much better on you," he spoke before giving your cheek a kiss.

"you sure?"

"yeah, of course."

"okay," you breathed out and paused. "well, i have to go. . ."

"okay," james nodded. "i'll call you later, yeah?"

"yeah," you agreed. and with a last peck on his lips, you unwillingly left to work.

you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love you are in love

three months into the relationship and you were happier than ever. james might seem a bit boyish but in reality he is the most mature boyfriend you've ever had. when you two fought, he wouldn't be rude to you, he wouldn't ignore you. instead of that, he would sit you down and you both would talk about how you felt.

but of course, you two wouldn't fight often. if there was anything bothering you, you learnt that it's best to talk about it rather than let it bubble inside of you and then explode, causing a fight.

there was a moment after a certain argument that you will hold close to your heart forever.

you two were lying in bed at james's place, not talking much for the entire evening. you had to admit it was your fault. you were a bit to stubborn to talk things through.

it could be a bit past midnight, about an hour since your and james's heads hit the pillows, when you felt his arm wrapping around your waist. you didn't pull away or anything like that. it was hours since you felt the warmth of his body.

you felt james's lips on the back of your head. you turned around to face him and touched his face. he leaned into your hand.

you heard him take a deep breath and then he said, "you're my best friend."

and you knew what it was.

he is in love.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #marauders #marauders imagine #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #harry potter x reader #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter smut

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