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vibrantbirdy · 11 months

Note

Hey lovely!! Could you do a Cassian Andor x (f) reader? I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers. I like the whole “you annoy me and piss me off” relationship that ends up in a situation where they are stuck together for something and end up in a fight where they suddenly realize they have feelings! I love allowing creators to have their own space to create, so if you wanna do something else entirely, please feel free too!!

❤️ take care of yourself

Thank you SO much, this is a great request! I am a sucker for enemies to lovers too. I hope you don't mind, but I had a similar Cassian request from Anon at the same time about Cassian x Reader having to go undercover to Canto Bight as a couple which I thought would work well with yours so I merged them. (Anon, I also hope you don't mind the merging and that you can find this ok as I don't know if/how I can reply to two asks in the same post?)

Also, I want to thank everyone who has interacted with my writing so far.

Requests for Character x Reader fics are currently open in my Asks. Please read the guidelines first. Keep 'em coming.

-Birdy

Title: Charade Fandom: Star Wars Setting: Between Andor and Rogue One Genres: Sci-fi; Romance; Enemies to lovers; Action/adventure; Fluff Warnings: Moderate sexuality; moderate swearing; mild violence/peril; brief mentions of loss of family/friends by Reader. Pairing: Cassian Andor x Female Reader Chapters: 1/1 (Complete) Word Count: approx 10k (oops)

Summary: You and Captain Cassian Andor have to negotiate your personal differences and difficult history when you are both assigned to go on an undercover operation to the Galaxy's playground for the super-rich, Canto Bight, as a married couple.

Prologue

Your first mission as a spy for the Rebel Alliance has taken you to Carida. The objective; to infiltrate and sabotage the Imperial Naval Yard there then get out as quickly and quietly as possible.

As it turns out, the mission is doomed from the outset. An Imperial mole who somehow dug their way into the very heart of Rebel Command on Yavin 4 has alerted the Empire to your plans.

Your team of six hardly made it five kilometers from the rust-bucket of a ship Rebel Leadership had assigned to you when you were intercepted by an Imperial patrol.

The firefight was brief. The Stormtroopers were green, even more so than you. You wondered with a pang of unexpected sympathy whether they'd come fresh from the Imperial Academy which was also based on Carida. There were far more seasoned combatants amongst your own unit and the fight was over before it had really began.

Still, that's when you'd lost poor Lily to a Trooper's blaster bolt. You're not even sure he was aiming at her. She'd fallen against you and you'd twisted your ankle as you'd spun to the ground following a futile attempt to hold her upright as if that would negate the fatal injury she'd just sustained.

Now, as you limp up the ridge of the hill you feel a swell of relief as you see that you are almost back to the clearing where the ship is stowed. But as you catch a glimpse of the hunk of old metal, you realise with horror that you are not out of the woods yet.

The Empire uses decrepit shuttles just like this one for for training cadets at the Academy. That's why High Command had insisted you take it - to blend in. You'd nicknamed it Tenacity because the old girl just wouldn't die and the name had stuck.

The ancient vessel doesn't do anything quickly until it's up in the air. Then she's sharp as a razor. But she has a complicated manual override for emergency take-offs whereby the crew need pump fuel round the engines a few times using an externally stowed generator.

Good for training Imperial cadets for problem solving and how to make the best of old tech. Not so good for spies who need a quick exit.

You're the engineer, it should have been you who hooked the ship up to the generator. But with your injury you are too slow and so the others went on ahead to start without you. You are sure you gave correct and clear instructions, but in his panic, it looks like Rogdul has connected the ports up all wrong. Dangerously so.

Overhead, you hear the scream of Imperial TIE fighters and you launch yourself into the nearby undergrowth. You count them. Four. They are searching the valley for you. They pass, but they'll be back in less than a minute. It's impossible that they haven't spotted the ship in the forest clearing.

From your hiding place you hear the ship's engines burst into life. Inside, you imagine Rogdul and Anya carrying out hurried pre-flight checks. Baslin is probably taking up position in the gunner's hatch, hoping to see some action.

No, you think. Not like this.

But you can reach the ship and fix the problem. You know you can. The whole thing will blow if you don't and that's not an option.

You dart out towards the Tenacity, but someone intercepts you, slamming into you with a body tackle and dragging you roughly back to cover through the mud. Soon, you're seated up against them, your back pressed into their chest, their arms and legs wrapped around you like a vice.

It's Captain Cassian Andor, you realise, your superior officer and the lead operative on this mission. You'd completely forgotten that he was even further behind the hasty retreat than you, taking up the rear and keeping watch for more Imperial patrols on your tail.

You don't care who it is. You struggle and writhe furiously against him, desperate to get away and stop the impending disaster you can see unfolding before your eyes. But Andor holds you fast against him as if you were a child having a tantrum.

"Let me go, I can fix it!" you scream over the howl of the returning TIEs.

"You can't, it's too late!" Andor shouts back into your ear.

As if on cue, the generator connected to the side of the ship starts to spark wildly, just as you knew it would. You watch helplessly as the fuel cells hidden within the Tenacity ignite with a deafening bang and whoosh of flame as the ship goes up in a hellish fireball.

A second later, the TIEs make their second pass. There's no need for them to bother firing their weapons. The devastation from the explosion is catastrophic.

They do it anyway.

Two years later

You are on approach to Canto Bight, Cantonica's capital city - the Galaxy's playground for the wealthy.

Captain Cassian Andor is in the pilot's seat, following instructions from the flight control tower. You'll sit down in a moment, but right now, you are desperately trying to sort the sticking-up collar of his cream shirt which is made of expensive looking silk.

Irritated, he tries to bat your hand away, but you are persistent.

"Kriff's sake, Andor, just let me do it," you mutter.

"I'm not a child," he says petulantly, but he relents.

There. Now he looks the part in his fine clothes. He's tidied his short beard and moustache so that the stubble is cropped neatly to the sharp contours of his chiselled face. His dark brown hair is neatly parted at the side, although it's perhaps still a little long...

You don't look too shabby either, bedecked in a knee-length silk day dress of sky blue, accompanied by a cloak of dusky purple which is draped elegantly across your shoulders. The Rebellion went to great lengths to fund this operation and they certainly didn't skimp on the provision of suitable attire. It's essential that you fit in.

"I look fine, you look fine, stop fussing," Andor says dismissively, noticing as you smooth out a couple of annoying wrinkles in your dress and swish out the skirt to make sure the fabric is lying properly.

"I think you look lovely," K-2SO, Andor's droid and almost constant companion, pipes up from the co-pilot's chair, "and that Cassian looks like he's swallowed an Endor fire hornet."

"You don't think," Andor retorts, "That's just circuits misfiring randomly in your head..."

K-2 turns to you with a mechanical whirr, and if he had the ability to conjure expressions, this one would read:

See? I told you.

You stifle a laugh and drop down into the passenger seat behind the droid.

The first time you'd met the hulking re-programmed Imperial security droid had been that fateful day on Carida. You and Andor had shivered miserably in silence for hours by the wreckage of the Tenacity as the rain lashed down, making little difference to the fearsome fuel-accelerated flames which devoured the ship. The Empire, in their arrogance, didn't bother to send out a patrol to check the site.

Then, late into the night, K-2 had finally arrived in Cassian's own ship under cover of darkness. With your injured ankle having swollen to twice its usual size, the gargantuan droid had lumbered over, scooped you up, and carried you with surprising gentleness into the vessel. Ever since, you've always enjoyed his company and his sardonic wit.

Your relationship with Andor, on the other hand, has been tumultuous since its inception. He's always been frosty and stand-offish with you. You sometimes wonder if your presence reminds him of the disaster on Carida the way his does to you.

Whatever his reasoning, his uncompromising demeanour has always brought out your worst qualities when you're around him, especially your stubbornness and your dislike of being told what to do. You've never gone so far as insubordination under his command, but when you disagree with him, you have a unique knack for finding your own way to interpret his orders. This always has the infinitely satisfying effect of winding him up.

Anyway, this time won't be like Carida. And despite your personal differences, you and Andor have worked together successfully - though admittedly never harmoniously - many times since.

Your objective is simple enough. You're looking for a business man, Dreylan Balgo. He's not yet thirty, but he's the biggest supplier of Imperial weapons in the Galaxy. You need to obtain his biometric signature and transmit it back to Alliance High Command. They'll then use it to access the designs and blueprints of the weapons his company is designing for the Empire and eventually send agents in as factory workers to sabotage various key elements.

As Andor and K-2 make the final approach to Canto Bight you look out the window. Below you, the dark sea glitters and ahead, the shining spires of the beautiful city glow golden in the evening sun.

You close your eyes as a flash of a childhood memory dances across your brain. You came here with your parents once when you were nine or ten. That's partly why you've been chosen for this mission. You used to move in these circles.

K-2 drops the shuttle neatly on to the landing pad which juts out over the water.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," the droid quips as you exit.

It's winter on Cantonica. As you step out onto the platform, the breeze is chilly but pleasantly fresh and you can hear the steady crash of waves against the cliffs below you.

At the entrance to the structure, you pause a minute to take in the monolithic doors, ornately carved and inlaid with beautiful coloured glass which catches the light of the setting sun with dazzling beauty. The doors open and you and Andor step into the elaborate marble halls of Canto Bight's most luxurious resort as newlyweds Mr and Mrs Race Pax.

**************************************************

The suite you are staying in is as lavish as the rest of the place, but it is small. The coiffeurs of the Rebel Alliance do have their limits.

"What are you doing?" You ask, suddenly stopping your own unpacking to observe Andor throwing an assortment of pillows and blankets onto the ground.

"I'm taking the floor like a gentleman."

"Don't be stupid," you snort, "What if the maid comes in and sees this..." you gesture to the collection of blankets on the floor, searching for a fitting description "...gentleman's pillow fort?"

The most important thing on this mission is that your cover needs to be believable. And, perhaps tantamount to that, if Andor is tired, he'll be even grumpier than usual and you don't think you could deal with that.

He straightens and sighs, repeatedly slapping the cushion he has been plumping with unnecessary force.

One thing you and Andor have never been around each other is shy. Having spent weeks at a time together in miserable, hastily erected camps, cramped transports, and underground bunkers in the service of the Alliance, the necessity of living in close quarters with him stamped that out quick. You've learned to move in each other's personal space with ease and usually without any awkwardness, so you can't fathom why he's making a meal of it now.

He looks at you defiantly for a moment longer before accepting defeat.

"Fine," he says, as he starts to pick up the elements of his makeshift camp bed and throwing them back on the bed, "Fine, but if you snore, I won't hesitate to kick you out."

"If I snore?!"

That was rich.

*******************************************

You and Andor are attending one of Canto Bight's seemingly infinite evening soirees for the rich and powerful. A colourful sea of people in lavish dress are engaged in polite conversation and enjoying expensive beverages in one of the grandest ballrooms you've ever seen.

Dreylan Balgo is here, somewhere. Tonight is a chance to observe his behaviour, get to know his habits and make an initial introduction if possible. Anything that could help you create an opportunity to obtain his biometrics over the next few days.

You are wearing a teal halter-neck gown, a drink in one hand while the other rests elegantly on top of Andor's arm. The silk of his plush evening jacket is smooth under your fingertips and you absent-mindedly fuss with it as you scan the crowd for your target.

Someone says your name. Your real name.

Andor stiffens next to you.

Trying to keep your composure you turn and relief floods through you as you realise it's one of your mother's oldest friends, Lady Sen Prya. It's been years since you've seen her and she must be in her eighties by now, but she hasn't changed one bit. She is adorned in the most grandiose yellow satin gown you've ever seen, complete with matching gloves. Her long white hair falls, twisted in an elaborate braid, all the way down to her waist.

Quickly, you take her gloved hand and squeeze it gently, a subtle message you hope she can read.

"Oh I'm sorry you must be mistaken," you say politely and introduce yourself as Mrs Pax.

Understanding flickers across Prya's face. She always was sharp as a knife and time doesn't seem to have dulled that characteristic one jot.

"Ah of course, child. Forgive me," she says tactfully with all the grace and ease you remember from your childhood, "You look very like a dear old friend of mine. It's nice to meet you. I am Lady Sen Prya."

She reaches a hand up and touches your cheek affectionately with a twinkle in her golden eyes. Then, she reaches out to Andor who brings her hand up to his mouth and kisses it gently.

"Race Pax, it's a pleasure," he says, and there is a genuine warmth in his voice.

He appears to have relaxed somewhat and you are sure it's because he probably recognises Prya's name. She has been funding various elements of the Rebellion for years.

"Now, is there anyone you need an introduction to, before I retire to bed like the old woman I am?"

Prya stresses introduction as if its a code word. And it is.

You look up at Andor questioningly. You hate to ask his permission for anything, but he is the senior operative here. He nods once in ascent.

"Dreylan Balgo," you say.

Lady Prya's eyes light up and you can tell that she is delighted to learn who your indented mark is.

"Well then, follow me, young lovers."

Andor gives that rare smile of his, the one you see so infrequently which reaches all the way up to his eyes where they crinkle at the corners. He likes Prya. Everyone does. That's what makes her so dangerous for the Empire.

You wind through the crowd, following Prya as if she is golden star leading you to your destination. You're suddenly nervous and although you'd never admit it, there is something comforting about how Andor's large hand entwines with your own as he follows your lead through the busy party.

"Dreylan! My boy!" Prya's voice is clear as crystal and cuts through the party hubbub with ease.

Balgo turns from a conversation he is having with several other men. He is a handsome man, dressed in an evening suit of black velvet. He is tall and elegant with piercing blue eyes and a mop of sandy blonde curls.

"Ah! Lady Prya! What a delight to see you," he says gregariously, stooping low to kiss the older woman's cheek.

"And you, my lad," she replies with gracious ease, "Now, I want you to meet a couple of newly weds, Mr and Mrs Pax. I'm certain young Pax here would be interested in discussing business with you boys, although I, for one, find it all very dull."

There is a ripple of smug, amused laughter from the circle of men, and you join in only because you know Prya could negotiate most of these idiots out of any of business asset of theirs she chose to.

Balgo turns his attention to you first, appraising you thoroughly before taking your hand and kissing it with an elaborate flourish. You let out a silly little laugh, ensuring your voice carries an appropriate blend of affluence and air headedness.

Less than a minute you've been in this man's company and you can already read him like a holo novel.

He then greets Andor with boisterous joviality.

"Congratulations, Pax, what a stunning creature you have caught in your net."

Andor chuckles amiably, shaking Balgo's hand.

"It's good to meet you," he says warmly.

This time, his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes and you notice that his hand, which has been sitting lightly round your waist, shifts down to just under your hip.

Lady Prya retires to bed soon after, flashing you a wink and a dazzling smile as she sweeps from the room, an ageless vision in yellow.

The conversation and drinks flow. All night, you sense Balgo's eyes on you. Alliance High Command don't officially approve of so-called "honey-traps," and neither do you, but you see no harm in cultivating Balgo's delusion if it opens another window of opportunity. You don't discourage him, directly meeting the furtive glances he casts your way when he thinks Andor isn't looking.

Throughout the evening Andor proves why he is so good at his job. His ability to observe and imitate behaviour is uncanny. He adopts with ease that careless, raucous affectation that only young, wealthy men seem to possess. He hasn't taken more than a few sips of his wine, but he mirrors Balgo's increasingly boisterous body language and bawdy humour expertly.

By the end of the night the two are stomping around the dwindling party with their arms slung around each other's shoulders, swaying and laughing and singing like idiots.

The night has been a success. You've created a rapport with Balgo.

*******************************************

"Prya was a friend of your family's?" Andor's voice comes unexpectedly from the darkness, "What happened to them?"

It's very late - or early, depending on how your look at it - and you and Andor have just fallen, exhausted, into bed.

You are resting on your left side, as always, and you hear him roll over beside you, so that he is looking at your back.

You are surprised by how accurately Andor has read into the situation with so little information. You don't see any harm in telling him.

"My father owned an agricultural engineering works. One day the Empire came to his factory and asked him to design and build components for some machine they were building, probably a weapon. He refused. They executed him on the spot and took the factory anyway. I did my best, but we struggled and my mother died a few years after of a broken heart. That's when I left to join the Rebellion."

Andor shuffles, the bed shifting beneath you both and you can tell that he's propped himself up on his elbow. You feel his eyes boring into the back of your head.

"You've never told me that before."

"You never bothered to ask," you reply defensively, "I know what you think, what you all think. That I'm a rich brat who ran off to join the Rebellion just to piss off her wealthy parents."

There's a silence.

"Turns out you're only half right..." you finish with a rather bitter self-deprecating chuckle.

To your surprise, Andor puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. You hesitate for a moment, before you reach across your body to place your hand on top of his, just for a second.

"Goodnight, Cassian," you say.

You rarely use his first name and it feels odd, but not unnatural on your tongue.

"Goodnight."

He rolls back over and is soon snoring softly. You don't fall asleep for a long while, not until you hear the birds begin their morning chorus and the light of dawn starts to creep through the open window with the sea breeze.

********************************************************

You and Andor spend the next morning trying to locate Balgo but he's nowhere to be found. You suspect he is probably in his bed nursing a very sore head.

The last place you try is the Fathier racetrack, although you know there are no races on today. You are glad. You can't stand to see these magnificent animals forced to run like that.

Even so, you are unable to refrain from grabbing Andor's hand in excitement and dragging him over to the nearest pen where a mother and foal are resting in a patch of sunshine.

"A baby," you find yourself saying, stupidly.

Andor laughs quietly at the ridiculous, breathless joy in your voice. You wonder if he's making fun of you, but when you turn to him his eyes are sparkling with a mischievous light.

He gestures to a nearby handler, adopting Pax's air of arrogant entitlement with frightening ease.

"My wife would like to see the animal."

"Of course, sir."

The handler coaxes the foal over and it's tall enough already to reach other the fence. You pat the creature on its nose and between its ridiculously long ears and it nuzzles sweetly into your hand.

"Mr Pax?" You say as you turn to Andor and realise he's hovering a few feet back from the fence.

You gesticulate to him to come over. When else will he get the opportunity to interact with such an animal?

"Oh no, I can see fine from here," he replies with a shake of his head.

Surely not, you think, and you feel your mouth twist into a devilish smirk.

"Are you scared?" You tease.

You sidle up to him and entwine your arm in his before stretching up to whisper into his ear so that only he can hear you.

"Captain Andor?"

Unable to resist your direct challenge he offers you his hand with a resigned, slightly nervous grin. You take it, leading him back to the fence. You guide his palm up to the baby Fathier's nose and the creature sniffs it curiously. You then press it gently against the animal's long forehead. When you let go, Andor continues to stroke the animal softly, his face lit up with an expression of childish wonder.

"Thank you, husband," you say when you both turn to leave.

He gives you a subtle wink and you feel a sudden rush of something close to fondness for him.

********************************************

That afternoon is spent sneaking around the resort's service corridors. You are right at the top of the building and the corridors are narrow and low. It's ridiculously hot and you feel stupid carrying out serious espionage in yet another one of the seemingly endless supply of dresses you've been provided. This one is a horrible pink colour that clings all over and you hate it which is why you've chosen it for this dirty, sweaty work. You know you need to wear something suitable for Canto Bight's grand halls in case anyone sees you on your way to or from the job, but it just feels so unnatural.

Hopefully this shouldn't take too long. All you need to do is wire in a small signal booster to the resort's communications lines. Then, when you obtain Balgo's biometric signature, the data pad can send a transmission to a commandeered, disused Republic satellite to confirm that the sample has been collected successfully.

Actually transmitting the scrambled data to the Rebel base on Yavin 4 needs considerably more power which means, at some point, you and Andor are going to have to hike out to Cantonica's main transmitter mast and send the signal manually from there.

You'd flown past the huge pylon on your way in to land at the resort. It's a monumental thing and you feel a rush of nausea at the very thought of having to climb it...but that's a problem for another day, you decide.

Your head is buried in a control panel, and you're trying to explain to Andor why you need to use a slightly different width of cable than originally planned but he interrupts you mid-flow.

"Can you do it, or can't you?"

"I can do it," you snap back.

"Then just do it, I don't care how."

Charming as ever, the morning's hard won truce between you apparently forgotten. He's nervous and so are you, so you try not to hold it against him. He just wants to get out of here quickly.

There's a sound, and with horror, you realise it's the service elevator doors hissing open. A stern male voice follows soon after.

"Lars, If you're up here slouching again, I'm going to dock your pay."

You and Andor both freeze, staring at each other like Loth cats caught in the headlights of a speeder. Then, without warning he grabs you at the back of your knee, hitching your leg up to rest on his hip, his hand travelling further up the underside of your thigh and underneath your dress as he shoves you against the wall and pushes his body firmly against yours. The other hand flies up to your face, his thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone.

Your gasp of surprise is muffled as he crashes his lips hard against yours. It takes you only a millisecond to understand what he's doing and you kiss him back, twisting your fingers tightly through the locks of dark hair at the back of his head.

At this, a soft groan resonates in his throat and you are almost certain this is unintended. You feel a flash of satisfaction that you've managed to affect him in such a way, then scold yourself for being unable to refrain from point scoring with him, even now.

"Get out of here," Andor growls at the hapless employee, pretending he has only just noticed the man's presence.

His voice is low and husky. As he speaks, you feel his fingertips press into the flesh your thigh. Suddenly, the combination of his proximity and his heady, masculine, familiar scent is overwhelming, and you feel something hot and fierce coil in the pit of your abdomen.

Andor - Pax - has broken away from your lips to berate the man, but he hardly deigns to turn his head to look at the unfortunate employee. You take a moment to study the fine details of his face up close. His pupils are dilated, making his dark eyes gleam like midnight. His nostrils flare slightly with heightened breathing. An uncharacteristic blush is travelling up his neck into his cheeks. You can feel his heart slamming against his chest and your own.

"Oh, uhh... yes...of course," the poor employee sounds terribly embarrassed and all the previous managerial authority has vanished entirely from his voice.

"My apologies sir..."

The man actually stands on his tiptoes and cranes his neck to see your face through the tousled mess you've made of Andor's hair before addressing you directly with a courteous nod of his head.

"Madam."

You raise your eyebrows at him politely and give him a ridiculous little wave with your free hand, the one that's not woven through Andor's hair.

You hear the employee blundering off back to the service elevator and the machinery clunks as the doors close and he disappears.

Andor's forehead is gracing your own and neither you nor he move for a moment. It's just long enough to catch the slow glint of recognition in each other's eyes that something new has passed between you and you both know it.

"Sorry," he mumbles as he finally breaks away, running a hand through his hair as if to sweep away the feel of your fingers there, "I didn't have time to ask nicely."

"It's fine," you say, smoothing your stupid dress down and clearing your throat, "Good thinking."

He leans against the opposite wall, arms crossed, as you return to your work in silence.

*******************************************

Evening has fallen and Andor and Balgo are talking animatedly at the bar. The resort is hosting another of its grand parties. You sit with Lady Prya at a nearby table. You don't talk about your new life and she doesn't ask, but the conversation is easy and comfortable and you feel a rush of gratitude that your paths have crossed again.

Once Balgo has left to mingle with other guests, you give Prya an apologetic smile and cross over to the bar where you drape yourself around Andor's shoulders. You lean in to kiss him on the cheek. To anyone else, these merely look to be the actions of a young couple.

In reality, you are providing cover as Andor works quickly with Balgo's empty glass. Earlier, he'd lined the outside of the receptacle with a special gel that picks up biometric data. Once settled on a surface, it is almost imperceptible to the touch.

Andor attaches, then tears away the transfer strip from the glass and quickly places it down on the data pad's receiver. A rather sad and weary boop from the device confirms that it hasn't picked up Balgo's fingerprints.

"Kriff," Andor curses quietly in frustration, a muscle working in his jaw.

"Give it to me."

"What?"

"Give it," you hiss.

Uncertainly, Andor passes the various components of the device to you. You snatch them from his hand, shoving the bits and bobs into your pockets and stride away before he can stop you. The satin of your dress swishes a melody to the click of your heels. You hear Andor swear under his breath.

As you walk, your eyes scan the room, searching for your target. There. A flash of golden hair at the other side of the room. You stalk Balgo through the crowd, waiting for the right moment.

You make your approach, taking out a small mirror from your pocket and quickly squeezing a blob of the clear transfer gel onto your finger before making a performance of patting the strange substance on your mouth like lipstick. You snap the mirror closed and move in for the kill.

"Oh Mr Balgo, I am so sorry!" you exclaim, feigning embarrassment as you collide with his shoulder, jolting him arm so that he spills red wine all down the front of his pristine, white suit jacket.

"Please, Mrs Pax, it's no matter, really," he says as he stays your pawing hands and swoops down to greet you with a peck you on the cheek.

"I really am sorry, Dreylan, I will pay for the damage."

"Nonsense," he scoffs amicably, his chest visibly puffing out as you address him familiarly by his first name, "Now, where has your husband of yours got to? The fool surely hasn't let you out of his sight in that dress?"

Balgo is right, it is a nice dress. Your favourite so far in fact. It is tailored in beautiful crimson satin with a full skirt, off the shoulder sleeves, and a plunging neckline.

"Oh, he's around somewhere, I'm sure."

You lean in and whisper in his ear.

"But he's not here."

He smirks back at you and you see his icy blue eyes light up.

"Shall we get some air on the balcony?" He suggests.

Well, what an unexpected turn of events, you think sarcastically as you accept the proposal with an external show of flirtatious grace.

Out on the ballroom's grandiose veranda with Balgo, you look across Cantonica's seemingly endless, dark waters. The sea breeze is cold, and the businessman drapes his jacket round your shoulders. You laugh at the right times, interject an asinine comment here and there as Balgo talks about business, and allow him to explain things to you that you already know without complaint.

When the timing feels apt, and the balcony is otherwise deserted, you reach up and plant a kiss on his lips. He returns it, placing his hands on your hips. Balgo is attractive enough, there's no doubt about that, and the kiss is far from unpleasant... but it's only a means to an end. There's no passion to it, and you can't help but compare it against the ardent fervour of Andor's embrace. The heat of it.

As you pull back from Balgo with a suitably flushed smile, the gossamer curtains behind him shift in the breeze and over his shoulder you catch a glimpse of Andor across the cavernous ballroom.

He's so far away, but you see him clear as day. His eyes are searing holes in Balgo's back before meeting yours with a look of disdain. He downs his drink and slams the glass on the bar's marble counter-top, stalking off towards the elevator.

You suddenly feel a pang of irrational guilt which makes you furious with him. You're doing your job. The one he failed to do.

Balgo's self-satisfied look of victory does nothing for your vexed and flustered disposition. He offers to go and source a drink for you both. Keeping your composure - you are a spy after all - you smile sweetly at him and agree.

When he is gone, you make sure no one else is around before you take out the transfer paper from your pocket and subtly dab it on your lips. Surreptitiously, you whip the data pad out of your other pocket - thank the stars you'd insisted on dresses with pockets - and press the paper against the reader.

You wait, visualising what the signal might look like if it was something tangible and visible. A little bolt of lightning, perhaps, arcing to the closest service hatch, climbing its way up wires and cables, escaping out into the cold night and up into orbit and the decrepit Republic satellite.

Finally, the device gives you a cheerful bleep and lights up green.

Success.

You'd like to see Balgo's smug face fall when he returns to find you've disappeared, but you don't want this to go any further than necessary. You've got what you need and your sudden absence can easily be explained away as a young wife's crisis of conscience. You leave his jacket on a nearby chair and make your way up to your suite.

*****************************************

When you get back to the room, you can practically feel the heat radiating off Andor as he rips his shirt over his head dramatically in the process of undressing for bed.

Trying to ignore his silent seething, you turn away from him and lift your hair away from the nape of your neck. He automatically moves behind you to help you unzip your dress and, despite his clear agitation, his hands are gentle. The red gown drops to the floor, leaving you standing in your flimsy under-slip.

You turn back to look at Andor, taking in the familiar outline of his body. He's not a huge man, but the muscles are strong and taut in his torso, back and arms. Littered here and there are scars, testament to a hard life lived dangerously. The moonlight streaming through the bedroom window gives his tan skin an ethereal glow and illuminates the sharp, handsome features of his face.

It's not that you don't find each other attractive. You both know that there's always been some unspoken tension between you. But the tempestuousness of your personal and working relationship has always prevented you from falling into anything that might be a mistake.

You are suddenly keenly aware of the obviousness your own form as your underdress clings to the curves and planes of your body. You can sense Andor's eyes roaming across it in a way you're sure they never have before.

You think - maybe - something changed with that kiss you shared this afternoon. An embrace which began as a charade and ended as something else.

"That was a stupid, reckless, dangerous thing to do!" he finally explodes, interrupting your reverie and bringing you back down to reality with a thud.

"It was a calculated risk," you retort, furious with him and internally embarrassed by your silly romantic notions.

"And," you stretch across to the nearby dresser to pick up the data pad where Balgo's biometric data is safely stored to brandish it under Andor's nose, "And it worked."

"In case you'd forgotten, Balgo thinks you're here with your husband..."

"That's why it worked!" You exclaim, "By the Force, men know so little about their own species..."

"You could have blown our cover, the whole operation!"

That riles you. Why can't he just congratulate you on a job well done? You've just saved this damn operation. You have what you need now. All you need to do is transmit the data and you can both get out of here.

"I know what this is," you say, your voice rising in chorus with your anger.

"Oh please, please enlighten me."

"You're jealous."

There's a heavy silence.

"Jealous?!" Andor scoffs finally, but the strength of his conviction has faded from his voice, "Of what?"

"You can't stand that I kissed him."

Andor steps towards you, brows furrowed, eyes alight with something that's not quite anger.

"He's welcome to you," he seethes, "The last thing I need is some highly strung rich girl playing at being a spy."

The words sting, especially after you opened up to him about your parents the other night. Even as the vague idea of restraint flashes through your mind, impulsion compels you to raise a hand to strike him across the face.

He catches you by the wrist as you lash out, pulling you even closer to him so that his sharp nose is almost touching yours.

"And so what if I am?" He continues and the change in direction is so unexpected that you are rendered speechless.

His tone is low and dangerous and his deep, brown eyes are wild, roaming your face desperately for an answer that never comes.

"What if I am jealous? What if I don't want his filthy, Imperial hands all over you? So what?"

Andor's face suddenly softens, his eyebrows knitting together in an expression of genuine turmoil. It's a display of vulnerability you've never seen from him before. His grip on your wrist loosens slightly but he doesn't let go.

When he speaks again, his voice is barely a whisper.

"What difference does it make to you? Ever since Carida... You despise me."

It's not true, you suddenly realise. It's never been true. Not really.

You want to tell him you've never blamed him for what happened on Carida. The actions of the mole? Not his fault. The failure of that sorry excuse for a ship? Not him either. Somewhere along the way, your perception of him became warped and refracted through the prism of your own feelings of guilt.

You know he saved your life that day. He must have gone through hell in the aftermath too, dragged up in front of various different elements of High Command to explain why only two of his six operatives made it back alive over and over and over again.

More than this, you want to explain that while you were kissing Balgo tonight, you were thinking only of him. You want to say how when you took a shower earlier and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror you'd seen the faint, red imprints of his fingertips still lingering like little tattoos on your skin and that you hope they never fade.

But you're just so angry with him for always having to be such a stubborn, patronising, hard-nosed bastard. So you say none of these things.

You know how much it must have taken for him to admit feelings for you, no matter how clumsy and ill-timed the execution. This man who always holds his cards so close to his chest has shown you his hand. He's given you ammunition and all you can think of in this moment is shooting him down with it.

"That's right," you say, leaning in close and whispering spitefully into his ear, "I despise you Cassian Andor."

You regret it immediately. Andor drops your wrist as if he's been burned. As he steps away from you, he looks completely lost. His eyes are cast down at the floor, full of humiliation and hurt. By the time they return to your face, they have darkened like storm clouds.

"Then, I'm glad we understand each other."

You open your mouth to say something, to take back your words and undo the damage you've wrought with your temper. Nothing comes out.

As Andor turns away, you reach out for him, try to catch him by the elbow. He shrugs you off angrily and storms out of the room.

He doesn't come back until late. You pretend to be asleep as he quietly slips into the bed beside you.

********************************************

When dusk falls the next evening, and with Balgo's biometric stored safely on the data pad in your pocket, you and Andor set out for Cantonica's main transmitter.

You want to use the journey time to explain yourself, to apologise to him and admit your own feelings. But you are so ashamed of your careless words the night before that you don't even know how to begin.

Continuing the trend of the day, you walk the ten kilometers together in almost complete silence, trudging in single file along the rocky coastline.

Even so, being out in nature and away from the city feels almost healing to you. Most tourists only see the rugged countryside of Cantonica from the confines of a shuttle. It has a wild, mountainous, windswept type of beauty that you find exhilarating. After days stuck inside the gilded cage of Canto Bight, it is wonderful to be out in the elements, even if it is rather cold and damp.

Night has decsended by the time you reach the transmitter. It is set precariously on the cliff edge, so close to the tumultuous waters below, it seems like a freak wave could wash it away at any moment.

It looks even more imposing than you remember. A huge durasteel spike with a narrow, fragile looking caged ladder stretching up into the sky leading to a high metal gangway which looks just as ancient.

You go first, and as you climb higher, your hands and feet start to feel fuzzy and your breathing becomes rapid, escaping through your lips in short, sharp pants. You've never been good with heights.

The icy wind starts to whip unpleasantly around you and you grip the ladder fiercely with each laboured step. The damp air has made the metal slick and you gasp as your boot slips on one of the rungs.

You catch yourself before you fall, but even so, you are relieved when Andor comes up behind you and positions himself so that his solid chest presses reassuringly against your back as you take a moment to steady yourself.

"Take your time," he says and his tone is gentle, "You're ok."

You nod and exhale deeply. Steeling yourself, you continue your ascent. You can do this.

You finally reach the top of the ladder and crawl up onto the round platform which encircles the pylon of the transmitter to provide access to where the mechanics of the structure are stored.

You think for a moment that this experience is going to be marginally better than the climb up the rickety ladder. That foolish hope is soon proven mistaken. The durasteel grating beneath your feet feels precarious. There are rusted gaps in the metal here and there and your stomach flips every time you look down. The wind is stronger up here, wild and blustery, and you feel horrendously vulnerable. You just want to get the job done and get down from this death trap as soon as possible.

Andor helps you lift the heavy panel off the front of the control box. You sigh with relief. It's a standard set up, one you've seen hundreds of times before and it's easy to bypass. You set to work infiltrating the system and once you're done, you wait in suspense as the data pad blinks text at you.

TRANSMITTING, TRANSMITTING, TRANSMITTING....

TRANSMISSION SENT.

"It's gone!"

Instinctively, you turn to flash a smile of triumph towards Andor, and you are relieved when one corner of his mouth twitches upwards ever so slightly in return. You wonder if, on the way back to the city, you might find the courage to try and make amends for your rough words the previous night.

Your hopeful thoughts are rudely interrupted when, without warning, the gangway you are standing on shifts violently under your feet. The whole structure lets out an ominous and eerie metallic groan and you realise with dread that the platform is tearing itself away from the pylon.

You have no doubt that you and Andor are the first people up here in years, and that your presence has disturbed the structure from its hibernation and reminded it of its decrepit, fragile state.

You grab at one of the rungs affixed to the main pylon intended for servicing the internal mechanisms, but Andor is too far away to reach. As the walkway peels away, he falls with it. The huge hunk of metal stops suddenly at a right angle to the structure, and the now horizontal guard railings catch Andor as he slams into them with a sickening clang.

There's a brief moment of relief when you think the worst is over, but then the structure jerks violently again as another metal bolt fails, and it tilts just enough to send Andor somersaulting over the top of the railing.

Desperately, he scrambles for something to purchase, and he manages to grasp at the guard rail with the fingertips of one hand as he rolls over it, leaving him dangling helplessly over the roaring water below.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself drop down towards him and your body hits the metal railings agonisingly hard. You ignore the pain and, praying that the railings will hold you, you scrabble to grab at Andor, your hands clutching at a handful of material at the front of his shirt just as his own grip fails.

Unexpectedly finding himself suspended in the air, Andor looks up at you in abject surprise. He assesses the situation and his eyes lock on to yours in alarm as he understands what you've done.

Your shoulders feel like they are slowly pulling themselves out of their sockets and your fingers, numb and white, are twisted up painfully in the material of Andor's shirt. You can't breathe properly, the air in your lungs being crushed out of you as you are pressed into the railings by the pull of Andor's bodyweight below you.

You are terrified that at any moment the guardrail will collapse and you'll both plummet together into the angry sea which seems to wait with open maw like a predator beneath you. But you don't know what else to do, and you refuse to let him fall, so you cling on to him in utter desperation.

"Let go!" Andor shouts up at you, and you can tell it's an order.

"No!" You yell back.

Suddenly, the front of his shirt rips and he drops away so that he is now hanging, almost literally, by a thread. The abrupt and unexpected motion causes you to lose balance and you have to let go of him with one hand to steady yourself on the railings and stop yourself from almost flipping over them to join him.

Andor's eyes are wild and fraught now, flicking between the failing structure and your overwrought face.

"Damn you," he growls with renewed urgency, "let go!"

Your whole body is screaming at you to do as he says, but you won't. Tears sting your eyes, whether from pain or fear, you're not sure. You clench your jaw and shake your head at him.

Andor snarls with effort as he reaches behind him and into his back pocket, pulling out his flip knife. He wrenches it open with his teeth.

"Don't you dare, you stupid bastard!" you scream down at him as you realise with what he intends to do.

He looks at you for one final moment and the world seems to stop. His expression is completely open and readable to you, perhaps for the very first time. His dark eyes glint with a fear that you suddenly realise is as much for you as it is for himself.

Then, he sets his face into a mask of grim determination and with one swift motion, he severs the flimsy cord of fabric tying you together and cuts himself loose.

"Cassian!" The vague outline of his name is torn ragged from your throat in an incomprehensible shriek of despair.

Helpless, you watch as he falls, limbs flailing, down, down, down, until he hits the water below with a sickening crash and disappears into the black, unforgiving waves.

*********************************************

Unbeknownst to you, the Rebel Alliance have successfully received Dreylan Balgo's biometric signature and K-2SO is already on his way to extract you and Cassian from Canto Bight.

By his calculations, K-2 should reach Cantonica in twelve hours, twenty-nine minutes and seven seconds. Plenty of time to mull over the conversation he'd had with Murdo the flight technician before he'd left the hanger.

"Maybe this time, eh K-2?" Murdo had quipped as he unhooked the re-fuelling nozzle from Cassian's ship.

"Maybe this time, what?"

"Maybe this time they'll finally have admitted their feelings for each other."

"That is a ridiculous observation," K-2 had said confidently, "They dislike each other immensely."

Murdo had laughed and made a comment about the droid having a lot to learn about human relationships which K-2 had thought was quite rude.

But as he barrels through the hyperspace lanes in Cassian's ship towards the Outer Rim and Cantonica, K-2 has time to mull things over.

He thinks about how on missions when the unit has to set up camp on some remote world, Cassian always leaves your meat rations on the fire just a little longer than everyone else's because he knows you like them so crispy that they're almost burnt.

Then he thinks about how whenever he and Cassian return from a mission you're not assigned to, yours is always the first face the droid spots in the hanger when they arrive back, and that once your eyes land on Cassian, you always walk away without a word, seemingly satisfied.

Now that K-2 really uses his circuits to process it, Murdo's conclusion doesn't seem quite so ridiculous after all.

"Humans," the droid muses to himself with an exasperated shake of his mechanical head.

**********************************************

Somehow, you manage to descend the transmitter, climbing and clambering down the structure in a daze. You don't bother even trying to mask your shouts of distress and frustration as your feet and hands slip on the blasted, kriffing, cursed metal all the way down.

You stagger the ten kilometers back to Canto Bight in something resembling a fugue state. When you reach the resort, you sneak through the back entry port you and Andor left through and wind your way through the maze of service passages and elevators back to your suite.

You are as bedraggled looking as you are distraught and you are glad that the corridors are as deserted as they were when you departed. You don't feel you could negotiate your way out of anything right now, despite all your training.

Once you've climbed out of your damp and dirty clothes you fall into bed. Andor's absence beside you is a stark, raw reminder of what's just happened and you finally allow yourself to cry. Somehow, at some point, as you wallow in your anguish, fatigue takes over and you fall into a torrid sleep.

When you awake, it's still dark and you have the distinct impression that you're being watched. There's someone else in the room with you. You bolt upright and almost cry out as your eyes take in the silhouette of a person in the moonlight.

The ghost of Cassian Andor is standing at the foot of the bed.

Except he's not a spectre, you realise. His outline, though swaying, is solid. He's flesh and blood. He's alive.

Once you've recover from the initial shock, you don't think you've ever felt relief like it in your whole life. You leap up out of the bed and fly to him, just as he starts to crumple to the floor. You grab for him, but too weak to moderate his own movements, he drops like a stone and his momentum pulls you crashing down on top of him.

He's all sand and salt and seawater and he is shivering violently. His eyes are heavy, like he's struggling to keep them open. You touch his face and his skin ice cold. His clothes are wet through and you're suddenly struck by the urgency of the situation. You need to get him warm. Now.

With great effort, you manage to half drag, half shove Andor towards the shower room. He's so exhausted and disoriented that even this appears to be an insurmountable task for him.

When you finally get him there, you bundle him into the shower, fully clothed. He slumps against the wall as you turn the warm water on. You start peeling off the sodden, freezing layers of his clothing.

He hisses through his teeth as you remove what remains of his shredded shirt and you see that the skin on his torso and back is blossoming here and there in vibrant shades of black and blue. You're not surprised, a fall from that height, these are probably bruises from hitting the water hard. You try to be more gentle.

Once he's free of all his clothing, you slide down behind him so that you are against the wall, and he's sat between your legs with his back pressed against your torso. You guide him to bring his knees up to his chest and he wraps his arms around himself pliantly, curling into a tight ball. He's still shaking uncontrollably.

You ignore your own discomfort as the warm water plasters your nightdress to your body like a second skin.

Trying desperately to aid the shower in its work of returning some of his body heat to him, you rub his back, his arms, and his chest vigorously. Every so often he rests his head on the bridge he's created with his forearms across his knees and you have to coax him gently to sit up.

"Stay awake," you plead, "You need to stay awake for me."

Finally, his shivering subsides and you sit in exhausted silence as the warm water continues to pour over both of you. Your chin is resting on his shoulder.

"Cassian," you finally say into his ear, tucking a stray lock behind it as if that will allow him to heed your words better.

He leans back into you, tilting his head up towards your face, to show he is listening.

"I don't....I don't despise you, I don't..." you trail off, silent tears suddenly mingling with the spray from the shower as they start to fall from your eyes.

Slowly, Cassian turns to you. He rolls on to his knees, and sits upright on his heels. You mirror his movements so that you are face to face and your foreheads come to rest against each other's.

"I know," he whispers, bringing a hand to your cheek, his expression soft and full of tenderness, "I know that."

He trails a series of soft kisses down your face, touching his lips to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose, and finally down until they reach your own. You melt into him.

This kiss is not like the first you shared, hasty and hurried and fuelled by external forces. This is deep and languid and deliberate, as if you are the only two in existence and you have all the time in the Galaxy to spend in this moment.

One of Andor's hands tangles up in your wet hair, the other presses against the small of your back as if willing you closer to him. You can feel his urgency increasing now. His movements are definite and purposeful as he caresses and kisses your skin.

Selfishly, you want him to continue, need him to never stop. But you also know this might not be the wisest way for him to recover.

"Cassian..."

"You told me I need to stay awake," he argues as if he already knows what you're about to say, now tracing kisses along your collarbone, "I'm awake."

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind..." you protest weakly, but the breathy desire in your own voice betrays you.

"Liar," he mumbles as he nuzzles into your neck and you feel him grin against your skin.

The movement of his lips makes his short beard tickle your flesh and the feeling forces a raucous laugh from your chest. It's a loud, unrestrained, joyful sound.

Cassian pulls away to look at you, wearing an expression of wonder. You realise he's probably never heard you laugh like that before. In fact, you can't remember the last time you heard it yourself.

His eyes crease at the corners and dimples appear in his cheeks as he smiles widely at you. That smile, the one you realise you've adored all along. And this one is only for you.

"You're infuriating," you scold, but your voice is light and full of heady exhilaration.

You wrap yourself around him and kiss him hard, realising, finally, that it is impossible to deny yourself the joy of him any longer.

**********************************************

You and Andor step off the landing platform of the resort and up into his ship. K-2 wastes no time in piloting the vessel up and away from the city.

Compared to the sumptuous surroundings of Canto Bight, the interior of the ship looks admittedly a little dreary by comparison, but you won't miss life within those opulent walls. Not when you now know just how many of its inhabitants are within the insidious clutches of the Empire.

"Well, I hope you two behaved yourselves," K-2 greets you as you both enter the cockpit.

You and Cassian exchange a glance. He winks at you and you actually giggle, the internal glow of happiness you feel manifesting itself in an embarrassing little laugh.

"I'm taking that as a no," K-2 says, "Murdo will be pleased."

"Who the hell is Murdo?" Cassian asks and he drops into the pilot's chair beside his faithful droid.

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x female reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #cassian andor fanfiction

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luvvyd0vey · 7 months

Text

Fanfiction has absolutely ruined traditional books for me in the best and worst ways possible;

It’s made my expectations of the pace and amount of dopamine I should get from each and every scene skyrocket

It’s made me grow addicted to basically being able to find the exact very specific concept I crave at any moment because all I have to do on websites like Ao3 is put in the pairing or fandom and the tags I want and I can scroll however long I want until I find something that really peaks my interest, especially cause I have the luxury of passing by fics that don’t grab my attention and run away with it

Not only that but the long wait you have after hearing about a book and having to order it into your local library which could take weeks and so either a) the anticipation is building and so you either thoroughly enjoy the book or are greatly disappointed or b) by the time you get the book you are much less enthralled about it and instead of being really into it and are really just reading it for the fact you had to wait so long for it - but with fanfiction as soon as you read the tags and summary (not only can you see the amount of views, likes, comments, words and chapters) the excitement is already there and you are hit with rush after rush of dopamine.

And if the fic turns out to be disappointing or unfinished, it’s quite likely you can find a very similar fic to fulfil your needs almost immediately so you don’t stay disappointed for long.

And you get to directly interact with the fic writer which on its own I love.

Fanfic writers always have just so much love for their fic and you can often see that in their work, which with a lot of traditional writers it seems like they are dragging themselves to finish it off.

And it’s super easy to get into a fic whether or not you’re in a fandom as often you don’t really need much knowledge on the cannon material, but if you do and loved it then that strong emotional connection to characters is prebuilt, whilst with traditional writers they have to build that up which is where a lot of books fall flat, whereas if a fic writer made the same mistake then it’s okay because you already know the character from the original material.

The most mid quality fanfics often beat what I would consider 4 star books.

Also when I first discovered fanfic just so happened to be the time I was going through my first book slump (which then lasted 7 years) and I don’t know if the rush I got from fic only encouraged my book slump or if it would have lasted this long anyway, but it definitely raised my expectations and made slow-starting books difficult to bring myself to open.

Also a lot of my favourite writing concepts are things entirely found in fanfiction or just little stories/oneshots I read here on tumblr and NEVER in official published books. And if there ARE hints of them in traditional books they are usually minimal and badly written, and/or almost completely ignored in favour of smut.

And that goes onto my next point which is in fics, I know what I’m getting into before I even click on it; I’m immediately shown what type of content I’m about to consume (as in rating, the pairing(s), if there’s smut or hurt/comfort or what) whereas with books I often have to really dig to find out what sort of content is in it without buying the book and seeing the content warnings on the first few pages, which is an issue if you are trying to avoid a smut scene which was in no way hinted at in the blurb.

My main reason to try get back into traditional books is reading new content with new characters, be able to talk about it with my family (without having to explain the concept of fanfiction), and maybe possibly to put on display in my home.

But as I’ve been picking up books to read, I’m realising how much fanfic has raised my expectations for writing and having the best pick for whatever storyline I’d like and have come to the conclusion it has honestly ruined me, and possibly my attention span.

I don’t know

I’ll probably post several more-coherent posts about this later but for now enjoy my raw thoughts.

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not-a-big-slay · 1 year

Text

Cruel summer

Kaz Brekker x gn!reader

I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer just to seal my fate

And I screamed for whatever it's worth

"I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

summary: it was always complicated with him, but when alcohol starts to question your situationship, you decide to let it all out...

warnings: alcohol, drunk confession, mentions of blood (non- violent)

a/n: did you know im obssesed with writing fics to taylor's songs? anyways, i had this idea on a long car ride, listening to this song and i wanted to write this for the longest time. its super similar to my fic jigsaw, but what can i say, im a sucker for drunk confessions. i made it gender neutral, so its told like "you did this" ,"he looked at you" etc. also, why tf did i think that gn reader means goodnight and that it means something similar like SFW. my first post in 2023, enjoy :)

Your blinking was slower and slower, eyes focusing on your floppy feet that tried to gain balance with every step. You thought you did a good job with not falling, thinking of it as a miracle, yet you entirely ignored the gentle force on your hip, navigating you outside. "When you said we should get a drink, I thought of one, not...several" Jesper with his hand on your side stopped mid-sentence, thinking about the number of drinks you talked him in to, but failed due to his own drunk self. His voice had a surprising echo, and you soon realised so did the other noise around you. Strangers' laughs entered your ears repeatedly, as if they were worried you wouldn't hear them the first time, horses' hooves stepped in front of you and their impact with the stone ground rang like church bells at midnight.

You were so taken by the magic sound that you didn't process Jesper pushing you up into some dark room and almost didn't feel the smooth hands pulling you in. Unwillingly, you fell down, but luckily sat on something soft. You noticed Jesper sitting down next to you and in a moment you were on the move. Oh, carriage, you thought. You adjusted your eyes and looked at the person in front of you, noticing the familiar long straight hair. You smiled and mumbled: "Hi, Inej.". She smiled a little at your drunken face, but was quickly filled with concern. "Whose great idea this was? I swear only you two could get this wasted." she sighed and her hands reached under her, pulling out two bottles.

"Thank you." said proudly Jesper and Inej rolled her eyes. Excitment filled you upon seeing her hands streching to you with the bottle grasped between. You accepted it and brought it to your lips, thinking of the bittersweet taste you drank at the bar, but it was dissapointing when your mouth tasted the cold blunt liquid. Water. You closed the bottle, setting it next to you and said to Inej: "You wouldn't be mad if you were with us. That's on you."

"You should be thankful that I'm even here at this hour." she toughened her voice, but didn't raise it. She knew it was enough to woke up some sense in you. When you two were silent, she continued: "So? Which one of you idiots had this idea?". Jesper didn't speak, however his eyes did when they shot at you. A few hours ago, you met him outside on his regular night door-watching and convinced him- very easily- to grab a drink with you. You needed a distraction in the chaos surrounding you. After a while of trying to shake their gaze off you, you sighed in defeat. "Fine," you exclaimed, "it was me. I just needed to clear my head, and hang out with Jesper, it's been far too long." you crossed your arms and winked at the boy beside you, but a scoff from Inej made you look at her. "Please, we see each other all the time, even Wylan is getting sick of him." she spoke truly, watching Jesper getting offended, but redirected her eyes on you.

She knew of your situation, how could she not when she's almost invisible and nosy. You and Kaz were far over inconspicuous looks and light touches, but boldly flirting at any moment. It wasn't Jesper's style of flirting, but just fearless remarks or answers that made you blush and fastened your heart. It also threw you into overthinking and uncernity of your bond with him. Sometimes it made you think the flirting covers more serious feelings, but often it sang with a friendly banter. It drove you crazy, took many hours of your sleep, and you knew it wouldn't matter if your stupid heart didn't fall for him. When you witnessed Wylan and Jesper's cat fight, you thought it was obvious for both of them that they like each other and they just were afraid to make the first move- even though that didn't go as planned, according to Jesper- or just enjoyed their wordplay. Now you weren't so sure, but you refused to ask the sharpshooter. He would only make fun of you or wouldn't take it seriously. "You seriously fell for him? This must be a dream" you already heard him say and his laugh caused goosebumps on your skin.

"I'm fine." you told her slowly, trying to convince her of your lie and subconciously wrapped your coat over you. Before visiting Jesper, Kaz stopped you in the hallways and was interested in your way outside. "I just thought of getting a drink with Jes." you said and quickly added "or anyone that would like to join." after realizing the Zemeni boy is supposed to be working. He didn't seem fazed by your answer though, probably used to Jesper disobeying orders, and just nodded in understandment. You weren't in the mood to talk to him, the redness in your eyes caused by your regular overthinking was still visible and you wished he would fail to take notice, so you smiled at him and continued your way down, then he stopped you with your biggest weakness.

Him saying your name.

You turned to look at him and noticed his reached out hand holding a coat. You realized you forgot yours in the bedroom when you went to complete the idea of getting drunk. You took it carefully, as though it was a bomb sensitive to touch. You put it on and thanked him shortly, trying to get down the stairs with your shaky legs.

No, you weren't fine.

Inej seemed dissatisfied with your answer, but didn't push. You smelled the scent again, the same thing that made you ordering shots. The smell of leather, gunpowder and his perfume. If the world ever ran out of oxygen, you were sure this would keep your heartbeat going. You wanted this scent to cover you, to soak in your skin and to flow side by side with your blood. Maybe that was the alcohol, but you needed this to happen, right away if possible.

A plan started to form in your mind as the carriage came to a stop and Inej helped you out. She grabbed your hand and placed it over her as she placed her other hand over your hip on the stomach, making her way into the Slat. Jesper walked along, he wasn't as wasted as you and capable of getting in his bed. Once inside, you wished goodnight to him quietly, wondering why Inej beside you flinched and every person still up looked at you weirdly.

When you were upstairs, you stopped Inej before Kaz's door. She looked at you and then in the direction you stared intesively in. "This isn't your room." she explained and tried to continue walking, but you stayed glued on the floor. "I need to do this." you mumbled and looked at her as if she knew what you were talking about.

She sighed: "Can't you do it tommorow? Sober?". You just shook your head. Tommorow you would be fully aware of everything and probably would talk yourself out of it, while right now, you wouldn't feel the consequences fully and could say what you truly feel. Inej stood silent for a moment, thinking whether she should let you fuck up or violently get you to bed. Joy filled you when she just sighed loudly and whispered "whatever" to herself. You waved her and she returned that action in a form of shaking her head and a frown. You took a deep breath and brougth your fist up.

After knocking and regaining balance because of the knocking, the door gradually let you see inside. Soon you were looking at the face of the man you cried for, all confused. "What are you doing here?" he said, but didn't stop you when you pushed passed him to get inside. You needed to cover your tears that already, without saying a single word, treatened to show. You wondered if you could do this. "Are you hurt?" he asked, obviously concerned. He's right to assume this, not every day someone knocks late at night, eager to get in.

"Yes." you admitted and turned to him. He noticed your tired eyes and a fazed out expression. "You're drunk." he observed, his tone did not sound angry or dissapointed, you could only hear the concern he was filled with and that was slowly tearing your heart apart.

"That's irrelevant" you waved your hand, blowing the fact away, so it wouldn't get in your way when talking. He leaned back on his table, supporting himself with his hands and streched out his bad leg: "Of course it is.". You hated this position, it made your knees weak. "What's important is who hurt you." he explained again. You giggled silently, shaking your head, and looked down. His protective trait was one of your favorites. It either made you feel loved or mocked, but right now you felt none of those options. After a moment you looked up.

"Guess."

Kaz sighed: "Y/N, I won't play some stupid game when you're in pain." His annoyance could be heard in the Crow Club and yours could be more visible than your drunkeness. "I'm fine!" you said harshly immidiately after him, "Now guess.". He sighed again after your repetetive plea. He studied you for some time, giving in on your request. "Come on, it's not that hard." you cheered him on, "I supposed someone like you would get it easily.". He can improvise based on little clues about a person, guess and threaten them with their secret he only assumed they had, yet he cannot see his own damage.

You growled impatiently. "Forget it, of course you wouldn't know, you don't even know what you want!" you yelled and started to walk around, surprisingly stable. What you said though wasn't true. You knew what you wanted and still didn't do anything to get it. You were both at fault for your pain and cries, it wasn't fair pinning it on him. Kaz calmly watched you go a few rounds around his room and waited 'till you slow down. "Go to sleep." he said when you finally stopped due to tears announcing their arrival. "No." you whispered, not knowing if it's to him or to your watery eyes. He still spoke: "You're wasted."

"Yet I'm still aware of my feelings! Whiskey didn't help, unfortunetly!"

Concern filled his eyes again upon seeing the tears drowning your eyes. His back straightened, but he didn't step closer to you. You laughed and allowed yourself to cry. Hands wrapped you tightly into Kaz's coat. "I love you, you prat!"

A thing about you when you're drunk is that sometimes, you say things you only think about, without even realizing it. The two of you were taken aback at the same time. Your eyes widened, making eye contact, both of you couldn't believe what you just heard. You were the first to react and laughed, bending forward and back. You looked at him again, a small smile on your face while your gaze took in every detail.

"If this ain't the worst thing you've ever heard." you said. Exhaustion creeped up on you, you knew that sooner or later you will fall asleep, no matter where you are. Kaz was looking down, his expression unreadable. You blinked slowly for a moment, trying to fight the fatigue. It was harder than closing them, but you managed to open your eyes and glanced back at the man, also looking like he fell asleep on the spot. You watched him, mouth opening to say something, when you spotted it.

A smile.

No, a grin. A wide, evil grin appeared on the cold, numb face. Fear suddenly rushed into you. You saw Kaz smile just once and it was before he violently murdered someone. Not a good sign, you thought. Any courage of saying words was gone, you just waited what he will do next. It was like watching a deadly animal, just standing in front of you while you tried not to disturb it. You almost flinched when he looked up, his grin smaller than before yet still shameless. You held your breath, afraid to trigger something invisible in the air, and waited for his voice to reach your ears.

"You should go to sleep."

There it was, the goal of your plan, the dream of your longest nights. You exhaled, surprised but relieved. Eyes found his and you could read him like an open book, finding the mutual feeling you longed for a long time. You smiled and nodded at his words, but when adrenaline left you, the exhaustion filled you completely. You fell back onto his bed, unaware it was there in the first place. He walked over to you, so close you could see the real details on the cane, and gently lifted up your head by the chin. Your eyes were closing, all of your power tried to keep them open. You decided it was time to stop Kaz from studying your dozed off face.

"Can I sleep here?" you weren't sure if you would made it back to your room now, so without waiting for the answer, you laid back and closed your eyes. You heard Kaz walking and a chair shifting. His scent was all around you, sinking into your skin, hopefully flowing in your veins by now. You grabbed the coat and squeezed it onto yourself tightly. Kaz's wide grin was the last thing on your mind before falling asleep.

‎

He looks up grinning like the devil.

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angelst4re · 2 years

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hi! idk if anyones ever requested this, also this is my first request. i've been reading the little stories you've written for like since last night at like 8pm and its 2pm the next day. anyways! do you think you could do something where the reader has their own band(them, their brother and two friends) and reader has a 1 year old and has like been with jamie for a good few months and the kid wants to join us on stage? smthn like that! i love your stories as well, so fuckin addicting bro. <3

hi my love!! i'm so happy you like them!! okay this is absolutely adorable. i wrote a whole backstory to this then deleted it because i thought it was too long and now i wish i kept it because it feels too short :(

For the Thrill of It- Jamie Campbell Bower x Reader

summary: you're in a secret relationship with jamie and there are rumours going around about it, so with the help of your daughter you let them all know the truth!

warnings: none!

note: 300 FOLLOWERS???!?!?!!!?!?? I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!1!! I DIDN'T EVEN THINK I'D GET 3!!!?!!??

You began dating Jamie four months ago, although you’ve known him for quite some time. He was friends with your brother a few years ago, they were even in a band together. However, life works in mysterious ways, and they lost contact for a few years, and both went on to live their lives. Jamie became an actor, but still pursued his music career. Your brother (Daniel) still had a passion for music, and you even joined his band when you turned 22.

Your band ended up being quite successful, having a few chart topping songs, even going viral online. You met your boyfriend at an afterparty and started dating not long after. Looking back on it, you feel like things were rushed as you fell pregnant after not even a year of knowing each other. But you were young and in love, so you kept the baby, wishing for her to grow up with both parents around- although that didn’t happen.

Just after Gracie was born, her father left, leaving you to look after her by yourself. Although your brother stepped in to help, offering you and your daughter a room in his house, which you were more than happy to accept. But there was one thing you weren’t expecting.

“Jamie’s going to be staying for a while, we’ve known each other since college, you remember him, right?” Daniel asked, introducing you to the blond.

“I think so…” You say, racking your brains for any vague memory of him. “Bob Dylan tattoo? On his bum?”

“That’s the one!” Daniel laughs, “he’s super nice, though. Trust me, I wouldn’t let anyone weird stay here while my little sister and niece are here!”

You got along very well with Jamie and became friends almost instantly after he moved in. You would stay up after putting Gracie to bed and watch movies together, he would recommend some and you would recommend some since you both had similar tastes. He would even offer to babysit for you when you and your brother would go out to meetings to discuss the upcoming tour. You trusted him, so you left your daughter in his care.

After a few months of living with your Dan and Jamie, you had realised you caught feelings for your new friend. You tried to ignore them, especially after what happened last time you got into a relationship, but it was impossible. Everything about him was perfect, and it just made you fall for him even more.

What you didn’t know was that he felt the same way. He had planned one night for your brother to take Gracie to see her grandparents, this is when he would ask you to be his. He asked around: your brother, your friends, everyone, to find out what your favourite flowers were, and what your favourite food was. So, when you came home that night, you saw the kitchen table decorated with candles, flowers and he had cooked your favourite meal.

After dinner, he had told you how he felt, and you told him you felt the same way, however you were still afraid of getting into a relationship too soon, especially because you knew how the media would react. So, for the time being, you had decided to keep it a secret. Although, that didn’t keep the media from speculating, especially when he came on tour with your band. You were so happy you had him with you, as it meant he could look after your daughter whilst you weren’t there.

Gracie adored Jamie, almost as much as you did. He always made time to play with her when she would give him her teddies, he was there when she took her first steps and even helped her to walk, he would read to her when it was time for bed, he would play music and have dance parties, he was the type of father she needed, and you were so happy that he was there. One day after work, you had come home to find them both fast asleep on the sofa, you almost cried because of how sweet it looked. You couldn’t wait to see what the future held for you three.

However, it was difficult to keep this relationship a secret from the rest of the world. The two of you had almost held hands whilst on a walk once, and that’s when you realised you needed to come forwards and say something, to tell everyone the truth, to stop hiding. The internet was currently divided into people who thought you were dating Jamie and people that thought you were just friends, but tonight you were ready to put an end to the rumours.

While you were on stage performing your final song of the night, you gave Jamie a quick smile as he stood with Gracie at the side of the stage where no one else could see. She kept pointing at you, and you knew what was coming. You stopped singing and motioned your hand to say ‘come here’, at this, Gracie began running across the stage to you, her noise cancelling headphones falling from her head. You grinned and looked back up at Jamie, who was wiping a fake tear from his cheek. This was the first time she had ran without tripping over.

“As you all might know, this is my daughter Gracie,” You say, crouching down to her height, “Gracie, baby, do you want to say hello to everyone?” You handed her the microphone and she had a massive grin on her face.

“Hello love!” She said, waving to the crowd, she sounded just like Jamie. Everyone in the crowd 'awed’ and laughed at how she sounded like a cute grandma.

“It’s Gracie’s second birthday soon, and one thing I know she’ll want for her birthday is to be able to go out with her mummy and mummy’s boyfriend without everyone posting rumours on the internet… so, Gracie, who's mummy's boyfriend?” you look to the side and send Jamie a big smile.

"Jamie!" She says with a big grin, looking over to where he stood.

"Do you want to come out, love?” You ask, taking the microphone back from Gracie.

As Jamie walked out onto the stage, you covered your daughter's ears, anticipating the screams from the crowd. Jamie kissed your cheek as you stood back up, and he picked Gracie up as she reached her arms out to him.

“Can you cover her ears quickly, baby?” You ask Jamie, who nods his head.

“So there you go. There’s the truth,” you smiled. “If you want to judge me, call me some names that I won’t say in front of my daughter, then fuck you. But to the rest of you out there, thank you for being here tonight. I love you! Good night!”

Gracie waves to the crowd as Jamie walks with her to get ready to leave, and you weren’t far behind.

“You realise everyone’s going to be talking about this for the rest of the week?” Jamie chuckles, kissing your forehead.

“I know, but we won’t have to keep it a secret anymore. We can take Gracie out and not have to keep a distance, we can go on dates, we can-”

“Get ice cream?” Gracie asks, playing with the bracelets on your wrist.

“Ice cream sounds lovely, y’know.” Jamie says as he nods his head, “good call, Gracie.”

“Let’s go, darling!” Gracie says confidently, taking your hand and leading you out, obviously she had caught that word from Jamie too. He looks at you with a big grin on his face.

“Yeah, let’s go, darling!” He repeats, chuckling as you make your way to the exit.

#jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower x reader #dad jamie <3 #does this count as dad jamie?#stepdad jamie <33

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brazilnt · 1 year

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I’m new and trying to catch up. If it’s not too much trouble could you do a quick recap of the neybappe drama? I’m so lost! They seemed so close

a very quick and short summary is that when ky came to psg he quickly got on well with ney. ney had only just transferred there from barca himself (causing the biggest heartache of my whole life) and he’d basically taken ky under his wing. ky looked up to ney they had great chemistry and had such a cute lil bro big bro relationship and this continued for years. idk i personally expected a neymessi type relationship between the two, esp bc they had similar age gaps and were all on top of their games etc. like it was set up so perfect. some may say their relationship started to fall apart bc ky got a big head or wanted ney’s position or had even outgrown him but personally i think it’s because they are both cut from the same cloth, there can be issues when you’re too alike yk?. like they’re literally the same person and have the same responsibilities but whereas for ney it’s coming towards the final curve of his career so he obviously wants to do everything that’ll solidify him as a legend, whereas ky is at the beginning and wants to prove himself. they’re both super competitive and can be childish and immature at times but and the end of the day they just both wanna win. now bringing messi into the fold did add another layer of drama bc neymessi are really close and have like 10+ years history so naturally they’d gravitate together and the same happened when achraf came, he and kylian became besties with quickness. they just clicked, like they’re the same age with the same interests etc. this might be a controversial take but personally i think ky works well with hakimi bc he doesn’t question his authority. not saying that he’s looking for a yes man or something but neymar or messi wouldn’t fill that role for him like they’re too talented and they’re too grown. hakimi just looks up to him and i think he likes that about him. not that there’s anything wrong with that, i believe their friendship is real and i adore kykimi down!

notable mentions in the drama: ney liking tweets shading ky. him not wanting to talk about him at an after match interview. ky basically having to be begged to stay at psg and his new “executive decision maker” contract. another thing that people love to use as drama fodder within MNM is that kyks lovesssssss ronaldo. like idk why messi would care but the people seem to care.

just realised this isn’t quick nor short so im sorry. this is all that i can think of from the top of my head. but don’t worry these two are always hot and cold and their drama has never reached a point where it’s horrifically effected their teamwork or ability on the field. they’ll be alright dw. i also think the fans and media in general take things wayyy too far. like on one hand you have every media outlet reporting that ky is big headed and thinks he’s important to the team and trying to frame it like it’s a bad thing but it’s the honest truth. he really is indispensable. if you have the president of the mfing country basically begging you to stay in paris and not move to rm you’re a pretty big deal. (also don’t get me started on macron the fucking wasteman)

anyway if you have any more questions feel free to ask!

#ask #anon

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imwall-e · 1 year

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W&TWS || Her Broken Heart

Summary : He is a super-soldier of more than 100 year old, struggling to find a place in this new world. She is a young student of 23, struggling with life. But they know they can find comfort and help in each other.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count : 1334

Warnings : anxiety, insecurities, mention of past relationships and toxic exes, Bucky is perfect

Series Masterlist

April 2nd, 2021

"Do you think I should tell him about my exes ?" Willow asked her friends as they were calling on Discord.

"In my opinion", Dysariel started, "you should wait. You don't know each other for very long. Once you are sure you can trust him, yes."

"Or once we met him", joked Ophelia. "We'll be able to tell you if he's got red flags."

They all laughed at this. However, Willow couldn't stop thinking about her feelings for James and her past relationships that made her very unconfident about a new one. ✪✪✪

Willow’s first ex-boyfriend, Veil, was really sweet at the beginning. It was a long-distance relationship so they only saw each other during ays.holidays. They stayed together for two and a half years. But over time, Veil began to judge Willow more and more, saying that she should wear makeup because she looked like a child. This made Willow very uncomfortable because she didn’t like makeup, it wasn’t her. She tried anyway.

Then, Willow had to go to a hospital for teenagers due to her school phobia and depression. It was great for her because she got to know other people who had similar problems, but also to go back to school little by little as there was a school part inside the establishment. She was hospitalised for over a year and being with nurses, psychologists and psychiatrists made her want to become a psychologist herself. She wanted to help people.

Willow decided to share this new dream with Veil, but he only answered by the fact that she would never achieve it because she was depressed. He never supported her in what she loved. At this time, they were together for more than two years, and he had started to drink a lot. She tried to help him but he didn’t want any help from anyone.

Veil started to be meaner and meaner, criticising every move, words and reactions Willow had. Her family noticed all those things and kept telling her to run away from him. Unfortunately, she had developed an emotional dependence toward him and she didn’t want to admit that breaking up was the solution. That the relationship was toxic.

During summer 2018, she found a student job and met wonderful people. It was a new experience and she really enjoyed it. She made new friends which hadn’t happened since she met Veil. That’s when she realised she didn’t love him anymore. The breakup wasn’t easy, especially as it was on the phone. But it was also a big relief for Willow. She stopped being sad and anxious. She felt stronger and happier.

After struggling with depression and school phobia, she obtained her baccalauréat at 20 in 2019, and decided to start studying Literature, Languages and Foreign Civilisations in English. During her first year, she met Zephyr and Tiana. And at the beginning of 2020, she met William on a dating app. The second ex-boyfriend.

They started dating really fast. Way too fast. And Willow started another emotional dependence. They stayed together for about 8 month. After a few months, Willow started noticing some weird things. She did her research and found out that William was lying to her. Not just little lies. He was lying about his life, his identity. Everything. When she started to confront him, he only told her that she was sick. He played with her feelings and manipulated her.

After all this, it was even harder for Willow to trust people. She needed to heal. She continued her studies and during her second years, she met Dysariel, Ophelia and Axel. It then led us to 2021 when she met James.

She felt like James was different, she was really comfortable around him. But her friends were right, she needed to know him better before fully trusting him. Before starting something with him. It was hard because she wasn’t really patient.

✪✪✪

1:15 pm. She still had two hours before meeting James at his hotel. However, for the first time since they met, she was really anxious. What if he didn’t share her feelings? What if he was like her exes? What if her issues ruined another relationship?

More and more questions came to her mind, making her feel like she was a burden. Tears started to blur her vision. It was difficult for her to breathe and her heart was pounding in her chest. She felt really sick and had to run to the bathroom where she threw up. Her whole body was shaking.

After having somewhat recovered her breath, she decided to take a shower. She stayed a moment, enjoying the hot water passing on her body, each drop washing the anxiety. When she finally felt a bit better, she got out of the shower and was taken by a great fatigue. She decided to lie down on her bed for a few minutes. But she fell asleep without setting an alarm.

✪✪✪

She was awakened by the doorbell. It was 3:30 pm. Fuck. She suddenly stood up, opened her window to say that she was coming in a second, dressed as fast as she could and went downstairs to open the door. Bucky was there.

“James, I’m so so sorry, I fell asleep.”

“Don’t worry, I was just worried because you weren’t here and didn’t answer my messages or my calls. So I decided to come see if everything was fine.”

“Do you wanna come in?” Willow asked, not wanting to let him in the cold.

“Sure, thank you.” James was also welcomed by Scamp who brought him one of his toys. “I can see that you’re still full of life." He said as he sat on one of the stools in the kitchen.

"Is it okay for you if we stay here, I can make hot chocolate like we said last week. It won't be like at the hotel but…"

"Willow, I'm sure it'll be even better."

She smiled and her cheeks turned red which James noticed. He thought she was really beautiful.

She started to take the milk out of the fridge and the chocolate powder out of the cupboard. She then poured the milk into a pot.

"You'll tell me when the temperature is correct for you."

"Do what you're used to doing, I'll adapt. If it's too hot, I can wait and it'll allow us to talk more."

"As you wish", she said as she poured the hot milk into two mugs.

They both added the quantity of chocolate they wanted and James swore that it was the best hot chocolate of his life.

"Okay, so why were you asleep?" James finally asked.

"It wasn't supposed to happen, I swear", Willow panicked.

"Willow, Willow," he stopped you, taking your hand in his, "it's fine. I'm not mad. I'm not gonna lie, I thought you forgot me or didn't want to see me, but it made no sense so I came. And I don't regret it."

"I'm happy then. Well, I started to feel unwell and needed a shower, but after that I suddenly was so tired and I didn't notice I was falling asleep. But I feel better now, especially after a good hot chocolate."

"Oh, so I'm losing against a beverage ?"

"Yeah, sorry Mr Barnes but we have a special relationship. You can't compete with that."

They both laughed at their stupid jokes. And continued talking, until it was time for James to leave because he had another meeting for his future new company.

"My holidays start in two weeks, so if you want we can see each other when I don't study for my exams?" Willow's heart was beating so loudly she was sure James could hear it.

"I'd love to. I'll pick you up here if you want and we can maybe eat somewhere."

"Yes, that'd be great."

He kissed her on the cheek, making her blush again. They said goodbye, and during the evening they sent each other a message saying "goodnight".

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6

#bucky barnes fanfiction #ceo!bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky #based on my life #marvel fanfic #marvel #sebastianstan #bucky barnes x oc #the winter soldier #original female character #original characters #soft!bucky barnes #friends to lovers

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veveebs69 · 1 year

Text

The Feeling of Hiraeth: Chapter One

hiraeth ˈhɪərʌɪθ (n). a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost of your past.

Summary: Feyre's life was finally going well. She had her children, family and happiness. But due to someone's greed and power she lost everything and was slammed back to a time were she was vulnerable, and very much human. Feyre has to do it all again to get back to the future she holds so dear but what happens when she is tempted to try to do things differently? Is that going to change the course of her entire life? Follow her as she's faced with the question that everyone wonders - "If i knew it all then would I do it again?".

A/N: AHHHH im so excited for this fic and please please PLEASE give feedback. this is my first fanfic so im super excited :D p.s this can also be read on AO3 !!

______________________________________________________________

Feyre felt her body go so cold it burned. Her heart slowed down, and the world faded away. All that could be heard was the screams and cries of the others who were experiencing the blazing power scorching through their bodies. Then it all stopped, the screams, the hurt, everything. And Feyre found herself in complete darkness. Gone. Dead. Like everyone else. Like she once was in the past.

The first time she passed away, she was prepared, but this time it felt so wrong. She didn't want to die however; there was something more wrong.

She didn't feel as I had the previous time.

She wasn't asleep yet.

She was still awake.

Still felt alive.

This shouldn't be how it was. Something didn't seem right.

A powerful voice tore through the silence, "Oh yes, you are quite correct, Feyre."

Feyre had never heard such a repulsive yet alluring voice. The female voice sounded similar to a mother condescending her own child. It sounded like a mother… The Mother

She gasped, but no air filled her lungs. She attempted to move but was unable to. All Feyre could do was listen. "Feyre Cursebreaker, please pay attention; you are neither dead nor alive. You are merely existing. You see Feyre, the issue is, I'm so sad and so distraught," the Mother said with a sob.

"I've never had such emotions before. It's made me realise that I want a different ending."

Her voice turned sour with disgust. Feyre could not see but imagined a sour look appearing on Her face, if she had one at all.

"You might think I'm an idiot; I know the other gods do. I could start over and come up with something new, but I refuse to. I've grown attached to this world. I was unable to stop its destruction since it all happened so quickly."

"So I plucked a soul, your soul, from the mayhem, and I'm going to return you back," the Mother paused to sob even harder.

Feyre felt sick.

Send me back where? How far back? Other gods?

"I see that you have questions, but please don't be concerned; I'll help you. So that it won't happen again and unravel my lovely creation. All I ask is this: Do not. Change. A thing." she hissed through her sobs as she spoke. The sound of fluttering wings suddenly replaced The Mother's speech, followed by bright light rushing towards her vision. As the light lifted Feyre through the void, she saw that the light was actually a swarm of golden and shining butterflies, nothing like she had ever seen before.

As Feyre re-entered the living world, she once again felt the blood in her veins, the breath in her lungs, and the clarity of her mind. As she opened her eyes, the world seemed more lifeless than it had been before. Physically, Feyre was weaker.

Feyre was human again.

And when she opened my eyes, the first thing she saw was a dead wolf holding a weak fawn that was less than half the wolf's size. It was then that Feyre realised where in the timeline The Mother had returned her to. She had been placed just moments after she murdered Andras with faerie hate in her heart. The deed was done. The curse could be broken. The clock began to tick.

#acotar fix it fic #feysand #feyre x rhysand #acotar fanfiction #elain archeron #nesta #rhysand #time travel #fix it #do over #canon divergence #angst with a happy ending #pov feyre archeron #alternative universe #the cauldron #the mother #some tamlin redemption (dont sue me)#ill put more down when i think of it

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ma-lark-ey · 5 months

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Summarizing the Foxhole Court cast as artists I follow on Spotify and why (and with links to the artists/songs);

Neil;

Set It Off, thinks he’s so cool and edgy and for the most part he is but also there’s too much time where’s he’s a silly goose. Specifically, he’s Cinematics Era because yeah they have some emo bangers like Partners in Crime and I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead but also Dad’s Song is on that album as is Dream Catcher

Andrew;

Chase Petra. Intense, overwhelming, takes awhile to understand, either is super mellow and chill or the pop punk anthems are GOING. Particularly, Andrew reaks of Monet Issues and Soapy Water, but I also believe he could jive with Reliable Narrator, not to mention In An Emergency Such As The End Of The World

Kevin;

Noah Kahan. It's abut the complex relationship with where you grew up and having a deep, inescapable loving and loathing for that environment. You're Gonna Go Far is just so Kevin coded, and also recognizing you are simultaneously your problem and your solution, like Dial Drunk. And All My Love is just sooo Riko and Kevin (I mean, 'No winter coat could keep out the cold of your atmosphere // We once sang Retrograde, we'd shake the frame of your car // Now I know your name but now who you are')

Aaron;

Alec Benjamin. A lot of people find him unassuming and whatnot, but honestly he'd kind of devastating and we should be cautious. Particularly, Boy In The Bubble & Outrunning Karma I feel have a very fitting energy. My Mother's Eyes (Unreleased) also has something distinctly Aaron about it, as does The Knife In My Back (Unreleased)

Nicky;

The Moondivers. Similar genre feel to Chase Petra but has a more lo-fi undertones. Stays at a pretty level sixty but can go either direction pretty fast. Particularly, Lovely has very Nicky energy to, lacking commitment but also not lacking the love and the need for the person.

Wymack;

Fall Out Boy. Very gruff and rough and tumble on the surface and has that iconic emo energy, but under all of that harsh exterior there’s an underlying message of community and healing and acknowledging the depression and the darkness but also learning to heal. Things like Save Rock & Roll as well as The Kids Aren't All Right show that distinct want to improve and move on with life while we also have songs like My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark and So Much (For) Stardust keep us in that depressive state.

Dan;

Sabrina Carpenter. It took me awhile to figure this one out, but I think this is the one. Pretty much everyone knows who she is but doesn't realise just how much she's done. The energy of this low-level A-lister who everyone knows and respects at least a little bit, but doesn't have the public in the palm of her hand the way other women like Beyonce or Swift do. Also the vibes are entirely correct, she's in the car karaokeing this shit with Matt tell me I'm wrong. She's jamming out to Feather and Sue Me and Thumbs like it's nobody's business. The entire summary of emails i can't send just feels so Dan I can't explain it.

Renee;

Julian Moon. Has this softcore vibe about her, but it powerful and doesn't put up with a lot. Particularly, Siren Song I think fits Renee really well, and Pomegranate Seeds feels like something that'd be on her playlist. Savior matches her role amongst the Foxes (also the intense religious imagery in this song and this EP as a whole needed to be referenced).

Matt;

Placebo. It's glam rock but also not. It's kind of undefinable. You're not really sure what's going on with the music, but you know it's slaps. It's been around a long time and has it's own respect. tbch I don't know massive amounts of Placebo's stuff, mostly only know one album right now because I feel the need to completely dissect an album from an artist before I move on to the next one, but their cover of Running Up That Hill is fantastic. From their actual discography, I think Matt has the vibes/would enjoy Brick Shithouse, Pure Morning, and Burger Queen

Seth;

Eminem (YES I listen to Eminem unironically). He doesn't give a fuck what you think about him, he says a lot of shit he probably shouldn't say, but he's also got points sometimes. Without Me is playing in the background when he comes back in book one. Love The Way You Lie is him and Allison core. Just Lose It is just funny and something he'd listen too all the time. He'd also think he was cool and different for listening to him.

Allison;

Maisie Peters. As much feral crazy ex-girlfriend music as there is sad depression bops. Unpredictable in every measure. Is here for a good time not a long time. BSC is very Allison core, and I think History of Man as well. Boy also reeks of her and Seth's relationship, and Blonde is what she blasts in her bedroom to get ready in the morning.

Abby;

Kesha. She's got a history to her, she fits with the Foxes. She's one of this insane pack, but also she's working on helping fix this insane group. She cares abut their wellbeing, she wants the best. She's got the energy of Resentment, Learn To Let Go, but also she knows these are kids who are gonna do insane things, so let's through in Hymn and Raise Hell. She knows her role in the group, but also she'll stray out of it and test new things. Also, she has to be a bit crazy to be able to manage Andrew's lot.

okay thanks for coming to my tedtalk

#lark says

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prosodiical · 6 years

Text

Fantastic Gifts

Roundup post, because I got an embarrassment of riches ♥

I got two lovely fics in this exchange! In no particular order:

A Wizard Is Never Late (1080 words) by vaderina / @ladyoftheshrimp Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander Characters: Original Percival Graves, Newt Scamander, Newt Scamander's Magical Beasts Additional Tags: Cute, Fluff, Domestic Fluff Summary:

Just an average morning in the Graves-Scamander household.

The most domestic! The fluffiest! ♥ Just Newt & Percival & a million creatures and gdi, it's so sweet.

Unearth (1092 words) by CloveeD / @reportsduemonday Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander Characters: Newt Scamander, Original Percival Graves Additional Tags: Red String of Fate, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Buried Alive, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them Summary:

Newt Scamander's red string of fate pointed down at a shallow grave, and for the first time, he was almost not brave enough to dig for his life.

The angst, it's so good! ♥ A near-tragedy of a soulmate AU that ends on a happy note, I promise. Newt's voice is so lovely here.

Plus the two things I wrote:

let your heart be light (1328 words) by prosodiical Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander Characters: Original Percival Graves, Newt Scamander Additional Tags: Christmas Party, Tooth-Rotting Fluff Summary:

There's nothing particularly enjoyable about a MACUSA Christmas party, except this: Newt Scamander, face flushed and eyes bright, asking Percival to dance.

Reprieve (1145 words) by prosodiical Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander Characters: Newt Scamander, Original Percival Graves Additional Tags: Skin Hunger, Comfort Sex Summary:

There's something electrifying about the way Percival reacts to Newt's touch; the way he leans into it before his conscious mind takes over and he makes himself pull away.

#fantastic beasts #fantasticgifts #gramander #newt scamander #percival graves #fic recs #writing is hard #but really enjoyable when giving to other people <3 #also i just realised my summaries are super similar #like there's some unconscious summary template in my head #oops

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jijimoons · 2 years

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obey me boys' favourite ghibli films

summary: what i think the obey me characters' favourite ghibli films would be! this is purely self-indulgent nonsense - if you couldn't tell by my username and pfp, i am a huge ghibli fan<3

characters: lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor, diavolo, barbatos, simeon, solomon, luke

format: headcanons

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of sad subjects, maybe spoilers for some films? not entirely sure! mostly just jay ranting about how much he loves ghibli (teehee)

LUCIFER - Tales from Earthsea

this film is based on the earthsea quartet, a book series by ursula le guin (such a good series, pls go read it it's amazing)

i just feel like the high fantasy aspects and wizardry give me lucifer vibes

it's high on escapism as well, and i can just imagine lucifer after a long day of overworking himself sitting down and putting on this film

(psst- im aware this film isnt too popular generally, and that's ok! let people enjoy what they want to :D)

MAMMON - Arietty

another film based on a book (the borrowers by mary norton) and generally closer to the original plotline than tales from earthsea was tbh

but, i digress!

this film is super nice and sweet (even though it deals with some heavier themes) and i think mammon would really enjoy it!

also he's kinda similar to the borrowers in a way, what with... stealing from his brothers i guess

LEVIATHAN - When Marnie Was There

sad. sad film, so sad but so happy as well? ugh i love it <33

levi is absolutely a film nerd and would definitely appreciate the complexities of the characters and story

and how it deals with heavy subjects like trauma and loss in such a sweet yet hard-hitting way? im crying

i feel like he'd definitely relate to anna in some ways

me too levi, me too

it's so beautiful!

SATAN - Howl's Moving Castle

this is my all-time favourite movie so i may be slightly biased

i am guilty of imagining satan as film!howl more than once 😳

i just. beautiful wizard man + beautiful demon man = jay's entire heart

he would love that movie. he'd definitely have read the book first i feel, and although the film isn't an exact replica, it's surprisingly story-accurate?

not howl's character though, we skip over that ahaha

but anyways. the vibes are immaculate, animation, story, everything. love itttt

ASMODEUS - The Tale of Princess Kaguya

okay, i have only seen this once and it was a few years ago so my memory may be rusty

but from what i remember, it is such a beautiful film! just like beautiful boy asmo!

very unique compared to other ghibli films, it really stands out in my memory

it's so ethereal and pretty, i really feel like he'd appreciate the beauty in the visuals and the story.

BEELZEBUB - Ponyo

such a cute and wholesome film! i think he'd be hooked

a little strange as well? i've watched it a few times and never quite understood what was going on

but honestly i don't really think you have to! stunning film (like all of them) and a really cute story

there's definitely themes of family and home there, and i think beel would relate to that

and the ramen that sosuke's mum makes? ugh i want it! he would definitely appreciate the yummy food

BELPHEGOR - My Neighbour Totoro

cosy film! very warm and nice, perfect to fall asleep to.

belphie would definitely be jealous of mei when she got to lie on totoro. i know i was >:(

the catbus! oh my gosh he'd love the catbus.

this film also has themes of family and togetherness, and i think belphie would like that as he's struggled with it in the past.

why am i just now realising that literally all ghibli films have really sad undertones :/

DIAVOLO - The Cat Returns

diavolo LOVES cats. you cannot change my mind. don't even try

i just love the idea of this fucking massive demon prince being absolutely stoked at the funny little cats in suits

it's got such a weird story but honestly that just makes it even better

this film is so nostalgic for me cause it was one of the first i watched when i was about 7 and it holds a special place in my heart:')

BARBATOS

i'm sorry barbatos lovers, he simply does not have the time to have a favourite ghibli film

however, if you ask him to sit down and watch one with you he will happily oblige when he has a free evening!

he's intelligent enough to be able to give thoughts on the characters, themes and film as a whole

he will especially like the nice, easy ones like totoro or kiki's delivery service - films like that let him relax for a couple hours :)

SIMEON - Grave of the Fireflies

i hc that simeon really likes sad movies, and this film absolutely broke me.

i'm serious (for once) - the most heart wrenching film i have ever seen, and i've watched a good few

he's strange though - he'll be sitting through the saddest scene ever, like someone's just died, and he will not shed a single tear. fuckin weirdo

what can i say, the angel likes emotional pain. idk why. go to therapy instead maybe

however, i would quite like to cry on simeon's beautiful shoulders for him to comfort me<3

SOLOMON - Spirited Away

he's just a bit weird honestly, and so is this film

don't get me wrong, i love it, amazing movie

but it's just... strange?

like, her parents turn into pigs, a witch steals her name and then some dude with cool hair comes and gives her food

there's definitely more to it than that but those are the key points in my head

but yeah. solomon's weird, therefore this film fits him.

LUKE - Kiki's Delivery Service

such a good film. omg

it's so feel-good and cute! perfect for my wonderful child

luke would definitely try and make some of the things in the bakery! they'd be so good hhh

he would love jiji and how sarcastic he is (aw thanks luke)

i think he'd be really interested in how the witches in that world work as well

aah i hope you guys enjoyed this as much as i did, likes & reblogs are always appreciated! can you tell that i wrote these at 2am😳

i'm aware that the niche of obey me enjoyers and ghibli fans may be small but there's gotta be some of you out there right? if there is then maybe consider dropping a follow - pls i need more friends :')

- jay<3

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me x mc #jijiwrites #studio ghibli

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paper-gold-theories · 2 years

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I really enjoy this AU! However, I was wondering how does Black Hat, Demencia, and 5.0.5 fit in this AU? Does Dr. Flug create 5.0.5 as emotional support animal for the heroes? Will Demencia even exist? How does Black Hat cope with the fact he lost his scientist/weapon person? Will he try to kidnap Dr.Flug in the future? etc

Hi @toymaker98 ,

Thanks glad you like it. 🥰

In the HeroFlugAU, the favour is tipped heavily on the Heroes side because the gang (especially Flug) is not in Black Hat Organisation

To summaries, 5.0.5 currently doesn’t exist and Demencia does exist but she is not as crazy. I haven’t decided whether to put them in the AU, but I will give you a gist and possible ways how they will be inserted (below) if I decided to include them.

[Warning: Some mild spoilers from Flug's Research Book, and Dem’s Diary if you haven’t read it]

BlackHat:

No, one scientist could do what Flug does. BlackHat initially tried to hire other villain scientist, but they end up failing and disappointing him, and/or are not unable to meet his extremely high expectations or produce results, so he ended up killing them out of anger and frustration. So, he ended up outsourcing BlackHat Organisation's entire science/weapons operation to ShiBo-Inc but they still do not meet his expectations at times.

Black Hat is also currently outsourcing people to bake cakes and to become his assassins in order to compensate for 5.0.5. and Demencia’s absence in this AU.

Black Hat and Dr Flug will also have a brief face-to-face in the future...

5.0.5:

It is mentioned in Flug's Research Book, and Dem’s Diary that products from Black Hat Organisation uses Black Hat’s DNA (H3-X) to make some of their products, so in the HeroFlugAU, Flug will obtain and extract H3-X from confiscated weapons from Villains who have delt with BlackHat Organisation. He will then use the DNA for experiments and accidentally create 5.0.5. similar to what happened in Villainous.

GoldHeart wanted to send 5.0.5. to the zoo because he does not like children and does not want to be around them for as long as necessary, and also doesn’t want 5.0.5. to live in the Golden Rule Building.

(Note: I headcanon while Flug is a good dad who generally gets along with kids and is good at raising them, GoldHeart is the opposite. He doesn’t want kids and can’t stand them. GoldHeart is more of a career guy with the mindset of “The only legacy I want to leave behind is the Heroes who follow in my path”)

GoldHeart and Flug had a huge argument on whether to keep 5.0.5., which basically went like this:

GoldHeart is like “Flug, raising a bear isn’t going to help you get you ahead in your career path as a Hero, we can just send him to the zoo and they will feed him and take care of him,”

Then Flug is like “GoldHeart, I can’t just send him to the zoo! I created him, so it’s my responsibility to take care of him. You, just don’t want me to keep him here because you don’t like children.

Then GoldHeart replies, “...Ok, maybe that’s true, but as your boss and your friend, I am telling you in your best interest to get rid…”

---

In the end, Flug gets to keep 5.0.5. but he ended up staying in P.E.A.C.E. HQ.

5.0.5. would have the same role for as he does in Villainous only for the Heroes. He goes on missions and public events with the Flug and the Heroes, bakes tasty treats for them, and yes, he can be an emotional support animal for the Heroes.

GoldHeart would then have a sudden realisation, “Wait Flug, if you consider that bear as your son and you used BlackHat’s DNA to create him…Does that mean BlackHat is his other dad?”

Then Flug is like “Um…” (Flug doesn’t know how to respond to that question)

Then GoldHeart is like “Oh my God...” Then he becomes more determined to get rid of 5.0.5. even more.

Demencia:

Due to to the Butterfly Effect, since Shibo-Inc in the AU is working to make weapons for Black Hat, she wasn't at the wrong-place-wrong-time, and wasn't used as as an experiment and turned into a super-soldier-lizard. (See my Demencia worked in ShiBo-Inc theory)

So Demencia, will be a normal person working in Shi-Bo Inc as a technician. She is someone who is stuck in a dead end job with no purpose in life and is always in a bad mood, as opposed to her crazy, love-struck-self in Villainous.

She is still somewhat crazy in this AU (mainly due to her hatred in working at the company) and is prone to anger and violent outburst. She has to take anger management courses in order to keep her cool (but it usually doesn't work). The only reason Shi-Bo doesn't fire her is because she is one of the most capable technicans in the company.

Flug will meet her at some crazy-ridiculous-random circumstance where there accidentally rammed into each other’s cars in a some parking lot. They would proceed to have a fight on whose fault it was. Demencia would get angry and frustrated, then suddenly steal his wallet then drive off. Making Flug having to track her down and confront her about it.

The will cross-paths again, in the future (for example, like in a science expo). And they will develop a slow-burn friendship before Demencia makes a deal with Flug.

Demencia will steal some DNA samples and other equipment from Shi-Bo Inc and request Flug to make her into a lizard-super-soldier assassin in order to escape her boring mundane lifestyle. In exchange she sells out information from Shi-Bo Inc about their dealings with BlackHat and works as an assassin for Flug.

This might be a catalyst for a future confrontation with Shi-Bo Inc.

She and Flug will have the same relationship as they do in Villainous: a brother-sister relationship with a begrudging affection for each other, even if it is well-hidden.

Demencia does not want to be a Hero, because being a Hero involves cultivating your reputation and looking presentable in front of others, and after working at her unbearable job at Shibo-Inc, she does not want that type of life for herself. She just want to go crazy, wild, let loose, and live life the way she wants.

She is an anti-hero in this AU and works as a freelance assassin for both Heroes and Villains. But she is absolutely loyal to Flug after his help and won’t go directly against P.E.A.C.E. and will not hesitate to sell out her Villainous clients if he asks her too.

GoldHeart doesn't really like the crazy lizard lady and question’s Flug’s choice in working together with someone that is not only insane and unpredictable, but also doesn't follow orders.

Flug agrees that she may be crazy, violent, unpredictable, doesn't follow orders, and he can't imagine working with someone like her in the past, but despite that she is loyal and does get the job done in her own convoluted way.

I might pair her up with Dark Phantom just to see her in a healthy relationship for once (see Flug's Research Book, and Dem’s Diary about Dark Phantom) or maybe just let her be single and live out her crazy lifestyle without being obsessed with BlackHat.

#villainous #villainos #dr flug #goldheart #villanos #dr flug and goldheart #HeroFlugAU #dr kenning flugslys #villainous dementia #villainous theory #villainous headcanons #villainous au #5.0.5 villainous #5.0.5 #gold heart #villainous black hat #black hat #black hat organization #flug

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somnambulants · 3 years

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omg i think it’s considered a little bit of a pride mont hate crime that you don’t have MORE nat fics 🥺 so hehehe how about i request some pouty jealous!nat?

Notes: omg thank u! happy pride 💛 this went super off topic BUT i hope you still like it! jealous!nat is my new favorite thing.

Summary: Natasha may have a little bit of jealous streak. You discover you don’t mind. Word count: 3.8K

You are not a jealous person.

That’s not to say that you aren’t prone to bouts of insecurity, you definitely are, and especially at the beginning of your relationship with Natasha. For the first few months after you’d begun dating, you’d been on edge the entire time; in a constant state of wondering, agonising, for the day she’d finally realise you weren’t good enough for her and up and leave.

Through all of that, you’d never given a lot of thought to whether your girlfriend is the jealous type. Mostly because Natasha is the most beautiful person you’d ever seen but also because it’s not like she would ever have a reason to be jealous; the minute you’d met, you had never so much as wanted to look at another person.

The thought never crossed your mind. It was laughable to you.

As unbelievable of an idea as it is, you’ve been together for just a few months when it slowly begins to dawn on you that you may not be the jealous type, but Natasha most definitely is.

In all – although admittedly, there weren’t a lot – of her relationships, Natasha has never cared enough to worry about being jealous over a significant other.

This is why the visceral reaction she has to watching people flirt with you comes as such a surprise to her.

The first time it happens, you’d only just begun dating and were at one of the many events the avengers were required to attend. Still wanting to stay as low-key as possible, you’d both privately agreed to not spend the night attached to one another.

Something Natasha is now beginning to regret. Immensely.

Currently, you’re across the room, talking to a woman Natasha vaguely recognises as a reporter and all she can focus on is the way the woman is looking at you.

It makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up because Natasha knows that look; has given you that look many times over the course of your relationship – a hungry, I want you right now, kind of look.

“Nat!”

Steve suddenly materialises beside her and the fact that she didn’t see him coming is evidence of how distracted she is. It makes her scowl even harder. Taking in her expression, he all of a sudden looks like he’s trying not to laugh as he follows her gaze to where you were standing. “You feeling okay? You’re looking a little…green.”

She resists the urge to kick him in the stomach. “Bite me, Rogers.”

He snickers and starts to say something else, but whatever it is, it’s lost on her as the sound of your voice across the room acts as a honing beacon and regains her attention immediately.

She watches, grip tightening around her drink, as you throw your head back, laughing at some joke the woman must’ve made. Seeing this as a green light, the woman leans in, brushing a lone piece of hair over your shoulder.

It doesn’t matter that Natasha can see how your spine immediately straightens up, or how you step back to widen the gap between you and your admirer.It doesn’t matter that you very clearly don’t return the attention being given to you.

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters because all Natasha can see and feel is red. If she had the ability to burn people with her eyes, that woman would have been incinerated on the spot. There wouldn’t even be tiny little dust particles left behind.

In the midst of her rage, she doesn’t even register the glass in her hand shattering until she’s covered in glass and red wine and there’s blood running down her wrist.

The sound of the glass breaking makes a good portion of the room’s occupants turn around to stare, you included. Instantly, you’re at her side, cradling her hand between your own.

“What happened?”

In its current state, Natasha’s brain seems to be lacking its usual quick thinking, and she just stares at you dumbly for a second until she spots the reporter you’d been talking to skulking in the background, watching with a petulant look on her face, evidently irritated by the interruption and the white-hot rage comes flooding back even more ferocious than before.

God, that insipid woman is lucky this event was specified no weapons allowed because if Natasha had a gun right now, she --

“--Natasha?”

You’re looking at her with worry in your eyes and as much as she’d love to go ‘accidentally’ push that woman off the edge of this very tall building’s balcony to a very certain death, she feels her insides soften into mush as they often do when you’re around.

“I’m fine,” she says. “Accident.”

It’s a flimsy excuse and one that wouldn’t fly on a normal day, especially not with you. She watches you purse your lips, giving her a doubtful look but you seem to make the decision to let it go as you lead her out of the room with the intent to find something to clean her up with.

You may not be a trained spy or even the most perceptive person on your best day, but you can still sense it when something is up – especially with Natasha. After the party, you’d had an inkling that maybe your girlfriend wasn’t telling you the whole truth and that something else was actually going on but after seeing the look in her eye, you hadn’t pushed her.

In spite of her unwillingness to share, a few weeks later your inkling is confirmed.

“I’ll order this time,” you yell over the loud music at the bar you were currently at. It was not your scene at all – or Natasha’s but Carol had recommended it on her last trip back to this earth and after a long, long week, you’d both agreed you deserved a night out, away from avengers’ duties and this is where you’d ended up.

Natasha gives you a nod and you stand, only having to wait at the bar for a few seconds before the bartender makes a b-line for you, ignoring the grumbles from the patrons that had been clearly waiting a lot longer than you.

“What can I get you?”

You recite Natasha’s drink, then your own and the bartender makes them with record speed. When you try to hand her the bill to pay, she waves her hand dismissively and gives you a grin. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t –“

The bartender, who you now realise is quite pretty, runs a finger along the back of your hand and gives you a wink that is definitely more flirty than friendly. “Believe me, it’s my pleasure.”

You sigh in defeat, giving her a smile in thanks and turn back around, making your way back to your table in the corner of the room where your girlfriend is still sitting but now with a face like thunder.

To anyone else, Natasha would probably look neutral but to you – well, you can see the irritated look in her eye and the slight crease between her brows and you know she’s pissed.

In the future, you’d look back and want to slap yourself for not seeing it straight away but in the present it just makes you a little worried.

“Everything okay?” you ask, setting the drinks down on the table. You think about all the possibilities of what could’ve happened in the short time you’d been gone and try not to panic. “Did something –"

“No,” Natasha says and then seems to realise the sharpness in her voice because her face softens in apology. She leans over to give you a quick kiss and it makes you relax slightly. “Everything’s fine.”

Comprehension starts to trickle in when she scoots over so she can wrap an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, and when you follow her line of sight, you realise she’s glaring over your head at the bartender, who pales immediately and doesn’t so much as look in your direction again.

Oh, you feel your eyes widen as it finally hits you: oH.

You look down into your drink and try to hide your disbelieving smile as you finally understand: she’s jealous.

If it were anyone else, you think you probably wouldn’t feel like this – would likely be outright irritated and a little offended at the behaviour -- but with Natasha you can’t help but find it kind of … cute.

A little giddily, you lean over to press a kiss to her jaw and feel her relax a little against you. “Wanna go after this one?”

Natasha’s face doesn’t change but you see a little shift in her eyes as she nods and pulls you in for another kiss, this one a little more heated – for your benefit or the bartenders, you don’t know, and don’t particularly mind either way as you let yourself get lost in it.

After that night, it becomes so apparent to you and you don’t know how you’d missed it all this time. It happens all the time. All. The. Time.

On the street, if someone so much as glances your way, she’s already staring back at them with an expression that would be terrifying even to you if she directed it your way.

At work one day one of the new recruits, a kid, really, comes up to you and asks you, voice trembling if you’d let him take you out someday and the next day Natasha knocks him on his ass so hard and so many times that you’re kind of surprised – and a little impressed—that the poor kid doesn’t quit right on the spot.

Even in your apartment building, one of your maybe-slightly too friendly neighbours gets similar treatment in the elevator one night when you and Natasha are returning to the building at the same time as her.

Just as you enter the elevator, you hear the voice of your neighbour calling out.

“Hold the door!”

Panting, your neighbour enters the small space. “Thank you so much, I have had the worst, oh –” her eyes land on Natasha beside you and she looks at her with something you can’t quite place in her eyes. “Who’s your …friend?”

“Oh!” you exclaim and you know you must sound surprised. Was it not obvious from how Natasha was always here that you were dating? “This is Natasha. My girlfriend. Nat, this is Charlotte, my neighbour.”

You can see Natasha in the reflection of the elevator walls, so you see the smug self-satisfied look she gives your neighbour as she wraps an arm around you possessively.

So, yes while you notice it all now, you still don’t say anything because a small – and by small, you mean large, massive actually – part of you kind of likes it; likes the fact that the Natasha Romanoff, the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen in your life is somehow yours and even more unbelievably, somehow she thinks you’re worth getting worked up like that over.

At this point, you’ve been dating for over a year and somehow it must’ve slipped the memo to let all of the avengers know because somehow every time you’re at the office, it seems like a new person is finding out about your relationship.

It’s really hard to keep up with everyone and their individual missions, which is how you find yourself in your current predicament.

“--ah, well-well,” a familiar voice calls out and you look up from the report you’d been studying. “If it isn’t the most attractive and coincidentally my favourite honorary avenger.”

In the doorway of your office, Sam is grinning at you in that playful, flirty but also joking kind of way that’s distinctly Sam Wilson. You grin back and stand to let him pull you into a hug.

“Did you just get back?” you ask, vaguely remembering him telling you he was going on a mission at least six months ago. You think it was in Istanbul, but you can’t quite remember the specifics.

Sam pulls back and goes to open his mouth but doesn’t get the chance to speak as Natasha appears in the doorway.

“Samuel,” she drawls his name, eyeing his arm around you. She visibly brightens up when she looks at you, though. “Y/N”

You can’t see yourself, but you know your face must light up as your eyes land on her by the sudden realisation that crosses Sam’s face. The casual kiss she drops on your cheek comes as confirmation.

His mouth drops open as he looks between you both. “Oh damn, you two?” he asks, smiling genuinely. “Damn!”

To the naked eye, Natasha doesn’t seem amused by his revelation, but you know her well enough by now to be able to spot the glimmer of humour in her eyes.

Sam, however, doesn’t seem to be adept at reading her as you are and so when she advances a little closer, his eyes widen and he immediately backs away.

“I didn’t know! I didn’t know!” he exclaims, hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry!”

The expression on Natasha’s face turns sinister in nature. You watch and try not to laugh at her theatrics, attempting to adopt a sympathetic expression when he desperately looks to you for help.

“Well,” Natasha says, faux-friendly. As she passes by him, she gives him what looks like a bone-shatteringly hard arm squeeze – if the pained expression on Sam’s face is any indication -- and comes to stand beside your desk. “Now you know, buddy.”

“That I do,” he says, backing up until he reaches the door. “Anyways, I gotta, uh –"

Not even finishing his sentence, he high-tails it out of the room so fast you barely see him leave. You turn to Natasha with a frown. She looks back at you innocently, but you catch the way her lip twitches a little bit before she breaks into a full blown smirk.

“You’re going to give someone have a heart attack one day, you know,” you say, half-serious. “I’m kind of surprised you haven’t already.”

Unbothered, Natasha shrugs and reaches out to tug you closer to her in order to kiss you, a little more intensely than you would normally allow at work. You melt into it with a sigh, smiling a little.

Eventually, you have to pull away when you start to struggle to breathe and your head starts spinning. Natasha makes an unhappy sound, trying to follow, but you stand firm.

“Nope, you’ve got to go before I’m the one that has the heart attack.”

With a pout, she gives you one more kiss before she gives into your request.

You’ve never seen Natasha drunk before – hadn’t even thought she could get drunk but tonight she’s definitely wasted -- all thanks to Thor and whatever is in the mead he’d bought with him.

One thing you quickly realise about drunk Natasha is drunk Natasha also means confrontational Natasha.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about –”

Her and Tony are almost nose to nose at this point, about ten minutes into what was now a heated conversation, and you’re kind of wondering if either of them even knows what they’re arguing about. You don’t think so and by the looks on the other avengers faces, they seem to have as much of an idea as you do.

As Natasha and Tony continue to argue, you look to your left and the young waiter who’d been hovering by your table a little too attentively all night is immediately by your side.

So Natasha can’t see you, you quickly mouth the word water to him and thankfully he seems to understand because he gives you a quick nod and then disappears, reappearing just as swiftly with a glass in his hand.

“Here, Miss –"

“No!” Ending her argument with Tony as abruptly as it began, Natasha jabs a finger at the waiter, who looks to you for help while she glares up at him balefully.

The poor guy looks terrified, so you quickly intervene, touching Natasha’s knee to bring her attention back to you. It does the trick, but she seems to underestimate how close in proximity you already are and she ends up half in your lap to the delight of the other avengers in attendance, who all let out various different whistles.

“Mine,” she says childishly into the crook of your arm. You only just manage to pick it up so you know you must be the only person who heard her. With your help, she sits up a little and makes eye contact with you as she repeats herself, more seriously, as if you hadn’t understood the first time: “mine.”

“I – oh --okay,” you say, grabbing her hand as it starts to creep a little too low to be polite in your current company. “How about we get you home?”

After hurriedly saying your goodbyes, twenty minutes later you park in your driveway and begin the not-so-small feat of getting her inside.

“Damn,” you grunt a little under her weight as you help her up the stairs to your apartment. “What do they put into that Asgardian mead?”

You make a mental note to ask Thor about it and then promptly forget as you reach your front door and fumble around, looking for your keys.

Even in her inebriated state, Natasha somehow pulls herself together enough to reach into your bag and pull them put for you so you can unlock the door.

Which she promptly falls through. You just manage to catch her before she hits the floor, and she leans against you, burying her face into your neck.

“Come on,” you order gently, softening as she groans into your skin. “Bed.”

“No.”

As if to emphasise the word, Natasha shakes her head, but to your surprise, she starts to make her way to your bedroom anyway. She’s still a little unsteady on her feet but nothing like you’d be if you’d drank as much as she had. If it were you, you would definitely have been comatose about seven shots and multiple hours ago.

“Alright, you get into bed,” you say. “And I’ll get you some water, okay?”

Natasha scowls. “No,” she says. You bite your lip to hold in your laugh at the petulance you hear in her voice, shadowing her to the bed, where she immediately sits down and attempts multiple times to take off her heels with little success.

“No?”

Finally having enough of watching her struggle, you lean down and undo the straps of her heels, gently pulling them off her feet. You watch as she flops back on the bed and then covers her face dramatically with a groan. “You don’t get it,” she says unsteadily.

“I don’t get what?”

“You’re mine,” she repeats her earlier words, uncovering her eyes to look at you.

You raise an eyebrow. “Am I now?”

You thought you’d managed to cover your amusement pretty well until you see the glare she shoots you that says she can see it loud and clear. After a beat of silence it becomes clear she’s not going to say anything else.

With difficulty, you slowly manage to get her into a sitting position and help her out of her dress, pulling the covers up around her and retrieving a glass of water that you place on her nightstand so she can drink it in the morning.

You then change yourself and go the bathroom to remove what makeup you’d had on. To your surprise, she’s still awake when you emerge, half-propped up against the headboard and looking at you with bleary, unfocused eyes. It makes your heart turn to mush immediately and you get into bed beside her as quickly as your feet allow.

She immediately curls up into you and you wrap an arm around her, pulling her as close to you as humanly possible.

“I am yours, just so you know.”

There’s a second of silence where you start to think that maybe she’s fallen asleep, until she shifts against you to meet your gaze, looking a little more alert and coherent but still out of it.

“Good,” she says softly.

The next morning, you wake before Natasha and slip out of bed to make her coffee and to find some pain killers, having a gut feeling she’ll probably need them. Your feeling turns out to be right. When you re-enter the bedroom, she’s laying face-down but clearly awake by the muffled groaning you can hear coming from her.

“Whys’it so bright,” she mumbles into the mattress as you approach the bed, turning her head ever so slightly so she can meet your eyes. You grin down at her.

“Ah, it awakens.”

She scowls up at you and you laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek as you slide back into bed, careful not to jostle her too much. She leans her head against your leg, slowly sipping the glass of water you’d left for her last night before reaching for the coffee on the nightstand.

You fall into a comfortable silence; you running your hand through her hair as she drinks her coffee, humming contentedly.

“How are you feeling –"

“I don’t like it when people look at you,” she interrupts suddenly, staring down into her coffee mug and sounding uncharacteristically nervous. You freeze but since she’s not looking at you, she doesn’t seem to notice. “But it’s not because of anything you do. I just don’t … like it.”

“Okay?” you hedge cautiously, not really understanding.

“I’m sorry if it bothers you,” she says. “Me. Being like that. I didn’t know I was even the type to –"

“It doesn’t bother me.”

At your quick interjection, she looks at you for the first time and whatever she sees on your face makes her smile faintly. “It doesn’t?”

You bite your lip. “Not at all.”

She mirrors you, now smirking. “Oh.”

After this, it starts to become a game: one you feel like you win every time.

#natasha romanoff x reader

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october-lady · 2 years

Text

the familiar pain of unrequited love, part 1

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Rated: General

Summary: It's been two years since Natasha saw the woman she loves. She was about to see her again but unfortunately, the reason for that was grave danger her boyfriend was in. Adding a threat of the end of the world into the mix didn't help either.

We all know what happened in Infinity War. But let's look at it from Natasha's point of view.

Chapter: 1/2

Note: I can't promise you a happy ending. Because we know how it ends. I can promise you pain. I decided to divide this into two chapters, I guess to let you take a breath in between.

My wife was not happy with this, I can tell you that much. But it's not my fault. I'm blaming my friend Ashley. I read her old Swan Queen story that was similar and it just gave me inspiration. Which resulted in this and me analysing every scene of Infinity War.

Anyway, happy reading and as always, please, consider leaving a comment <3

Read on Ao3

The second Steve got the phone call and they found out Thanos was after Vision’s stone, Natasha felt sick. All her senses were alerted. Her stomach was twisting with anxiety, fear and, she would be lying if she denied that, some level of excitement.

She urged the two men to get on the quinjet as fast as they could. She insisted on being the one flying it, almost shoving Steve out of the way, muttering something about her being the one who got it in the first place anyway.

She just wanted to know they were going as fast as they could. She needed to keep her mind occupied. She needed to do something. Anything. Anything other than worrying because that wasn’t going to help anything.

Vision’s life was in danger. Or the soul stone, rather, but that’s what is keeping him alive. And seeing as Vision was currently on the run with Wanda, it was very clear that she was also at risk of, well, being killed.

Just the thought itself caused Natasha’s stomach to do another twist. She hasn’t seen the woman in about two years. Two long years of being on the run. They had very limited communication to keep the exposure to a minimum, only reporting that they were alive.

The message about Thanos didn’t come from them, it came from Tony, or Bruce, if you will. Which meant Wanda and Vision either didn’t know yet or… Or it was too late for them to alert the Avengers.

Natasha didn’t want to think about that. No. That wasn’t an option. Just because Vision shut down his communication channels and they stopped reporting themselves didn’t mean something was wrong. It just meant that… The woman closed her eyes for a second, trying to push that thought away. It just meant that the unusual couple didn’t want to be found, didn’t want to be disturbed, they just wanted to be alone.

At first Natasha thought that those rumours were bullshit. Wanda, a human, couldn’t date Vision, a robot. That was ridiculous. Or wasn’t it? Wanda wasn’t a normal human though, she had superpowers.

Natasha still couldn’t wrap her head around that. Super strength and speed, sure, she could believe that. But moving things with one’s mind, controlling people’s thoughts, that was too much for her.

And yet. And yet the young brunette hasn’t left her mind since the day they met. Sure, they didn’t start as friends. Wanda caused Natasha unimaginable pain by bringing out her darkest memories. Seeing as they were on the opposite sides at that time, Natasha didn’t blame her. It took a while but they got past that.

The more she trained the young woman, the more time she spent with her, the more she was on her mind.

It was wrong. Natasha realised that. Falling for someone was bad enough, it meant split attention, thinking about the other person and how the outcome of a fight would affect them.

Falling for a member of your team was worse. It meant that if they were fighting alongside each other, part of her was always keeping an eye on Wanda, making sure she was okay, making sure she didn’t need her help, even though she knew the woman could kill her with a snap of her fingers.

The quinjet was faster than a normal plane but the flight from New York to Scotland still took a couple hours which left Natasha with a lot of time to wonder what it would be like seeing the woman again and how much it would hurt, seeing her with Vision.

Judging by just her thoughts, a lot.

But that is something she could dwell on later.

“Touching down in one minute,” she called in the back to alert Steve and Sam. She had to get her head back into the fight, to focus on what they might encounter. Aliens were her least favourite to fight. You could never guess what to expect, the weapons they could have and the powers they could possess.

The jet landed as close to the location they got on the couple as possible. They ran into the train station to find a couple of funny looking people, if that’s what they were and without thinking, started to fight.

They couldn’t see Wanda and Vision at first. But that didn’t matter. That didn’t mean anything.

Focus.

Immediate danger.

Fight.

She caught the spear Steve threw at her as she was running to the alien. She pierced him with it without thinking.

Another one.

She threw it back to Steve as she was battling him in hand to hand combat, pulling out her batons.

It was a short fight. Sam managed to knock one down with his wing and they disappeared into the night sky, along with their spears.

He was the first one reaching the couple they were there for. Vision was lying on the ground, leaning against the railing and Wanda was crouching next to him, holding his hand.

“Can you stand?” Sam questioned the android before he even got to them. Natasha and Steve were right behind him.

And then she saw her. She dyed her hair. It wasn’t brown anymore. It was a light shade of red, more like ginger even. A strawberry red, is that what they call it?

She swapped black dresses and knee high socks for more comfortable jeans and a long cardigan. Natasha’s heart skipped a beat. She looked good and she hadn't even seen her properly.

Sam and Wanda were helping the injured android on his feet now. That’s when the younger woman first turned her head around and their eyes locked. For just a split second. Natasha could see fear and panic. She could also see the long slash above Wanda’s eye, just a bit lower and she would have lost it…

She couldn’t look at her. She turned around, pretending to be checking their surroundings.

—----

They made it on the jet. She let one of the men fly back. She didn’t care anymore. She wanted to be around Wanda, despite her best judgement. She knew she shouldn’t. She knew she should get back into the pilot seat, as far away from the woman as possible. But she couldn’t. Something morbid and self destructive forced her to be around her. To be around the woman who entered her dreams every night. She was finally there, within reach, she could touch her, she could smell her perfume.

Yet she still couldn’t have her.

Because the woman was in love with someone else.

Natasha stood by the closing door as they were taking off, watching the disappearing lights of the scottish city underneath them.

“I thought,” she started as the door closed, “we had a deal. Stay close, check in,” she snarled that between her teeth, “don’t take any chances.” She turned around. She had to get away.

“Sorry…” Wanda said weakly. “We just wanted time,” her voice was shaking. She was sitting next to Vision, holding on to him like that could fix him.

Natasha didn’t even look at her. She couldn’t. It hurt. It hurt because that’s what she wanted. Time. Time with the woman. Away. She wanted what Vision had. Time with the woman who made her heart jump, away from everyone, away from all the fighting.

She walked past Steve, ignoring the look he was giving her. He didn’t say anything. He knew her better than that, he knew there was no point. He could see she was upset. He just raised his eyebrow slightly, it was a question really. Are you okay? But he knew he wasn’t going to get an answer.

So she stormed off, joining Sam at the front for a while. They sat in silence, him focusing on flying and Natasha lost in her thoughts.

She got restless after about an hour and went back into the main part of the jet. Wanda was still in the same position.

Natasha sighed. She pulled out the first aid kit and walked over to her, sitting right next to her on the bench.

“Let me clean that up for you,” she said softly with a sad smile as she pointed at the nasty cut on Wanda’s face. It was a peace offering.

Wanda nodded and turned around to give her better access. She let go of Vision’s hand for the first time.

“You were lucky,” Natasha said as she gently dabbed disinfection on the wound, making sure it wouldn’t get infected.

“Yeah,” Wanda smiled at her. “Yeah, I guess I was.” She hissed when the alcohol in it made it into the cut.

“Sorry,” the blonde said. “Pain only makes us stronger,” she added, her face turning into a painful smirk.

Wanda’s eyes looked at her closely, inspecting her, like she was looking for something.

“Are you okay?” She asked when she didn’t figure it out.

“Of course,” Natasha replied, looking down, quickly busying herself with the butterfly stitches. If that were true, she would be the strongest person alive because pain was the only thing she felt.

When she looked up, Wanda was still looking at her, her lips in a thin line, clearly not believing her but decided against pressing her.

Natasha quickly placed a few of the stitches along the cut, carefully pressing it to her skin. Her fingers lingered over the spot for a bit, aching for more. She wanted to trace her face, to feel the soft skin, to hold her cheek in her hand, to pull her closer. Her eyes flicked to Wanda’s lips for a second.

Instead, she just pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“There. You’ll be perfect again soon enough.”

Wanda’s cheeks coloured with a light shade of red as she dropped her eyes shyly and played with her hair.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, giving Natasha a genuine smile.

There it was again.

Pain.

Pain in her chest, like a million needles stabbing her heart.

A smile she longed for yet at the same time it was the cause of her heartache.

—-----

They made it into the Avengers tower. She pushed her feelings away, away into a box, deep down.

There was no time for this. The world was in danger and they had a job to do. That’s what she had to focus on. Not on the redhead woman wearing ripped jeans that fit her impossibly well.

They found Rhodey on a call with Ross, of course. Seeing that man, even if he was just a hologram, cheered her up. She did enjoy insulting him a bit too much.

She could feel Wanda’s eyes bearing into the back of her head.

No.

Rhodey.

That’s what she had to focus on. She was happy to see the man after all, so much so that she went in for a hug.

“Wow… You guys really look like crap,” he said after looking at all of them.

Wanda looks beautiful, she wanted to say. But she didn’t. She focused on his face instead.

“Must’ve been a rough couple of years,” he added and Natasha’s head spun around to look at the rest of her group.

“I think you look great,” a new voice made her turn back. Of course.

Of course he would be here, he was the one who called them after all.

“Bruce,” she said, still slightly surprised.

“Yeah…I’m back. Nat,” he greeted her, singling her out of the group.

“Now this is awkward,” Sam whispered to Steve.

She sighed and turned away.

Great.

Now that’s a party.

—---------

They were discussing what to do with the stone. That was what Thanos wanted after all, not Vision.

Bruce, as the resident scientist now that Tony was flung into space, explained to them as best as he could what the stone meant and why Thanos might possibly want it.

“Well then, we have to protect it,” Natasha said, her voice not leaving any space for arguing.

As much as she didn’t care for Vision himself, she did care for the world and humanity and it was her job to protect it.

And, even though it pained her to admit it to herself, she cared about Wanda. And Wanda cared about Vision so she was going to do everything in her power to make sure that man was okay. The last thing she wanted was to see Wanda heartbroken because she lost someone, again.

“No, we have to destroy it,” Vision said. Everyone looked at him. They didn’t have to be scientists to know what it would mean, what it would mean for him.

She could feel the panic from Wanda when he said it. When he even just touched the subject of how the stone would have to be destroyed.

Natasha’s heart broke for that woman.

She knew Wanda was powerful. But she didn’t realise that the only thing capable of destroying the soul stone in Vision’s head was the woman who loved him.

Oh God.

This couldn’t be, could it?

Maybe it didn’t have to be that way. Bruce jumped in, explaining Vision’s mind. If they managed to remove the stone, Wanda wouldn’t have to kill him…

“Can we do that?” Natasha asked, hope in her voice. She knew she had no chance with the woman. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want her to be happy, even if that hurt. Because seeing Wanda happy hurt less than seeing her in pain.

“Not here, not me,” Bruce shook his head.

She could feel the weight immediately return to her chest.

—------------------

They were on their way to Wakanda.

Wanda and Vision were sitting together, Vision still hurt from the alien blade. Everyone else was preparing for a battle that was sure to come.

Natasha watched them from the corner of her eye.

They have been attached to each other the whole time. It was understandable, really. An alien was after something that was essentially powering Vision and keeping him alive which in itself would cause a lot of worry and anxiety not only in him but Wanda as well. And as a result of a, potential, success, half of the universe would just… disappear.

“Hey,” Wanda suddenly appeared by Natasha. She sat down next to her, in the corner, hidden from everyone else.

“Hey,” Natasha was surprised to see her. She quickly looked at Vision but he looked like he was sleeping, if that was even possible.

They sat there in silence for a moment, neither of them sure what to say next.

“I like your vest,” Wanda pointed to her newest suit addition.

“Thanks,” Natasha smiled, smoothing it down. “It was a gift. It has a lot of pockets,” she said, looking up at the other woman with almost a child-like excitement in her eyes.

“Yeah?” Wanda smiled back at her. “Must be a special someone for you to wear it on a mission.”

“She is very special,” she smiled, looking into the distance for a second, “she’s family.”

“Oh. I didn’t realise you had…” The younger woman trailed off. She wasn’t sure how to finish it. She didn’t want to sound like she assumed Natasha was all alone in the world. She also didn’t want it to sound like she was surprised Natasha had family.

“Neither did I. But I guess life is full of surprises, isn’t it,” she brushed it off.

“Yes,” Wanda nodded, taking the hint that this was all she was getting, at least now.

They sat in silence again, unsure of what to say. They didn’t used to have this problem. But that’s probably what happens when you spend two years on the run, away from each other, only reuniting when the world is about the end.

“How are you holding up?” Natasha finally said, carefully watching Wanda’s face, looking out for any sign she was about to lie.

But she didn’t lie. There was no point. Instead, she looked at Vision before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’m not,” it was barely a whisper, a very shaky one.

Natasha wasn’t surprised. She didn’t expect anything less. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. She wished she could say that it would all be okay, that everything will be fine, they’ll fix Vision in Wakanda and defeat Thanos and live happily ever after.

She wanted to brush Wanda’s hair out of her face and wrap her arms around her and hold her until there wasn’t a single threat in the world.

She wanted to feel her soft skin and smell her shampoo, let her long hair tickle her face and kiss the cut that was still on her forehead.

But she didn’t.

She couldn’t.

Instead, she squeezed her hand.

Nothing else. Because there was nothing she could do, nothing she could say that would make her feel better, that would change anything.

So they just sat there, Natasha still holding her hand.

Until the younger woman broke the silence.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it… I don’t know what I would do without you,” she smiled at her, tears in her eyes.

Natasha didn’t say anything. She was sure her voice would betray her. Her insides were screaming at her in pain.

So close.

Yet so far.

And then Wanda let go of her hand and leaned forward. Before she could do anything about it, Wanda’s arms were wrapped around her in a tight hug.

Natasha gave in. She squeezed back. She nuzzled her face in the soft red hair. The smell of lavender that was so unmistakably Wanda filled her senses and made her feel dizzy.

She held tight on to her. Because what does it matter if they were going to die anyway.

She could feel Wanda pull away after a while. She looked at her with pain in her eyes. A different kind of pain, different than there was before.

It was like slow motion. Natasha could see her lift her hand. She could feel it on her face as she pushed her short blonde hair aways from her face.

“Oh Nat…” She whispered. A tear spilled out of her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” her hand was still cupping Natasha’s face, as if to say something her words couldn’t.

Natasha wasn’t confused. She knew. She knew what Wanda just realised. She could feel tears burning in her own eyes.

“Touching down in 2 minutes,” someone yelled.

“It’s okay,” the older woman whispered with a sad smile. She turned her head and placed a kiss into Wanda’s palm before she wiped her tears off and got up to prepare for landing.

----

Part 2

#Wandanat #my wandanat #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #black widow #scarlet witch #scarlet widow #scarletwidow #my fanfiction #wanda x natasha #natasha x wanda

49 notes · View notes

yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

bad boy good thing iii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 393

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

“You’re bailing again?” Taehyung looks up from his stack of books for the first time in the last hour since the two of you have started your study date. Granted, he meant no spite but he didn’t understand what set you to flee. The name that was almost taboo to you; the name that brings more tugs to your heart that hurts than one that’s fond.

You glance up at him with meek eyes, “I have an office hour with my economics professor in half an hour.”

Taehyung purses his lips.

“This is the fourth time this week you’ve ditched.” Taehyung sounds mildly irritated and you don’t blame him. You made a promise months ago before mid-terms coming up that you’d help him with statistics. But before the two of you could ever get into the nitty-gritty details of math; somehow the forbidden name comes up.

“I know.” You say softly. “I’m sorry …” You don’t say anything else because your heart is speeding up in a way that is anxiety-inducing. Because Taehyung off-handedly mentioned that Jungkook would be dropping by in a few; and you didn’t know when he’d turn up and you rather not stick around to find out.

His words still linger in your mind and every time there was any prompt to remind you of his face, or his name—you remember the way his words sounded so assured in the context of the situation first. You remember the malevolence that lied behind his usually kind eyes. But it’s like the eyes filled with desire in a one-dimensional view of your body replaced the youthful mirth you grew up with.

“Look.” Taehyung sighs, pushing himself up to look at you with a stern stare. “If you don’t want to tutor me that’s fine. I can find another tutor. But I’d appreciate if you’d let me know beforehand so I don’t have to come all the way just for an hour then have you leave once the content begins to get tougher.”

Taehyung was by no means being rude or outwardly offensive. He was straightforward and you appreciated that he was honest with you. And rather, you feel guilty of the fact that you bailed for your own selfish reasons.

“I do want to tutor you.” You tell him, fiddling with your fingers as your eyes dart to the doors of the library. “It really just slipped my mind.”

It sounds lame, even to you; and Taehyung picks up on it too.

“You don’t forget things like this.” He says pointedly. “It’s like every time I mention—”

Taehyung stops himself and your eyes dart away, hands already tugging your bag over your shoulder. Maybe if you sped up, he wouldn’t stare at you with an inquisitive stare that looked similar to one of realisation.

“Did something happen between you and Kook?”

You wince. Taehyung is observant.

“Are the two of you—?”

“I’m fine.” You snap, tone defensive and on edge when you hear the bell of the library door ring. You don’t dare to turn to look. “We’re fine.”

“_____ …” Taehyung frowns.

“I gotta go. Okay?” You huff, offering one last apologetic look before you turn to leave. But in your haste, you bump into a solid figure and you’re terrified that it’s—

“Careful.” A deeper, unfamiliar but welcomed voice murmurs.

When your eyes look up, it’s just someone you recognise from Jungkook’s football games. You were sure he was a key player too. His stature was definitely one of an athlete. He was tall, broad, and firm; and the black shirt that hugged his chest only emphasised your guess.

“S-Sorry.” You squeak, looking down.

You brush past him before he can get another word in, and only when you slip past him do you see Jungkook lingering behind with a frown on his face.

“______—” He calls.

You’re able to leave before he can get a hold of you; and that only causes the frown on Jungkook’s face to harden.

When the door rings once more to signal your departure, Jungkook is already sat with Taehyung and the other person that bumped into you.

“What’s up with the two of you?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook stiffens and responds with a grit of his teeth. “Nothing.”

Taehyung doesn’t look convinced and Namjoon—though recently enlightened with the fact that there was potentially something brewing between the two of you—was also observant enough to pick up on the tense atmosphere that you left with.

“Aren’t the two of you super close?” Namjoon says offhandedly, already shifting through his assignments while he lays them out.

Jungkook wants to let out a dry scoff at the assumption. Sure, the two of you were close. He isn’t so sure about that anymore.

“You’re clearly lying to me.” Taehyung snorts. “So whatever it is the two of you are keeping a secret please just sort it out because I need _____ here to tutor me and you’re getting in the way of my education.”

Taehyung mostly says this as a joke, but it strikes Jungkook straight where it’s vulnerable. He wasn’t going to be the first to break, nor will he indulge Taehyung into what he said to you in the same library they were in at this very moment.

So instead, Jungkook brushes it off like he’s been doing so more recently than ever.

“Whatever.” He mutters.

For some reason, you see Jungkook again on the same day—accompanied by the same person that you bumped into.

You realise that you’ve spent more time avoiding him than dealing with your feelings after what transpired. But you’re weak and you suppose you’ve always been weak when it came to Jungkook.

It was difficult … to say the least. Because while Jungkook’s words were malicious and filled with the intent to hurt and break you; the better (and foolish) part of you wanted to believe that he was angry. Driven by emotions that he wasn’t thinking straight. But while you were naive, you were also substantially aware that there had to be some form of truth to the words he’s thrown at you.

But this was the same Jungkook that you grew up with, the young boy you’ve somehow seen transition from awkward and endearing teen to … to the confident and assured man he was. You didn’t want to make any excuses for him but you’ve always been soft. And you hated that your eyes somehow still linger on his approaching figure when the rational side of your brain tells you to run away.

However, it’s not him who greets you. It’s his friend. The one you vaguely recognise but can’t quite put a name to a face.

“Hey!” He calls out to you.

His smile is easy with a dimple appearing on his cheeks. He looks kind and soft for someone that was easily a head taller than you were, and despite his height—there was something oddly comforting about the way he approaches you as if he knows you.

You try to ignore the coldness from Jungkook’s end and remind yourself that you should’ve felt angry—not the other way around.

“Hi?” You say, or more appropriately ask.

Jungkook’s expression is still blank; every time your eyes briefly linger on his face you wonder how it’d ended up this way.

“_____, right? I’ve seen you at a few of our games.” His friend enters a conversation so seamlessly. “Kook’s never introduced us, though.”

You clear your throat and you hope your face isn’t a dead giveaway of your discomfort. Especially when you blatantly ignore Jungkook’s piercing stare on the side of your temple.

“I don’t … mingle around that much.” You say softly,

And it’s parallel to the image that Jungkook has of you. The quiet, timid girl that’s free time is consumed with books and assignments than a social life to make up for it. You used to think that maybe you weren’t the type that enjoyed large or loud gatherings. But Jungkook’s voice only makes you wonder if you were the problem instead.

“Well, I’m Namjoon.” He smiles at you, offering a grin filled with teeth that you find yourself unconsciously returning, albeit awkwardly.

“Nice to meet you … uh … Namjoon.” You mumble, and your eyes nearly land on Jungkook’s face out of pure habit, but you stop yourself before you hurt yourself even more.

“It’s nice to formally meet you too. I’ve been asking Jungkook to introduce the two of us since forever ago but he seemed dead set on keeping you to himself.” Namjoon jokes lightly. And you almost miss it, but you swear Jungkook stiffens by his side.

“Ah …” You reply lamely, fingering your strap as you shift on your heels.

It feels awkward to not acknowledge Jungkook; you’re wondering if Namjoon picks up on the cold air between the both of you. Namjoon looks like he’s thinking of something, but before he can say anything—Jungkook is tugging his arm roughly.

“We have practice.” Jungkook grits, finally making himself known.

Your eyes dart to your feet, and you hate how small you feel in his presence. It should’ve been easy but this was the hardest part of it all. Pretending like you were objectively okay when his words constantly lingered at the back of your mind.

“Go ahead without me. I want to ask _____ something.” Namjoon shrugs Jungkook’s hand off of him. And this time you catch the venomous glare that he shoots his friend, accompanied by the clench of his jaw.

“Coach will—”

“I’m the captain, remember?” Namjoon snorts, but it’s not condescending. Just a reminder.

Jungkook purses his lips and his eyes dart between the two of you; and you know him well enough to know that there’s something on his mind, especially with the way he nibbles on his bottom lip.

“Don’t be late.” Jungkook grits, stomping off in the other direction without even sparing you a glance.

You frown at him because he was the one that came to you that day unwarranted; treating you like absolutely nothing as if there weren’t years of history behind the two of you.

But Namjoon is large enough to distract you because he quite literally blocks the view of Jungkook’s disappearing body with his own when he stands right in front of you.

“Sorry about that.” Namjoon looks sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind …” He trails off as he scratches the back of his neck.

Your eyes widen as you shake your head, “N-No! It’s fine. Just … uh … what’s up?” You wince inwardly at your horrible social skills and you have a slight understanding of why Jungkook pointed out the things he did. Maybe he was right—

“I—well …” Namjoon mumbles, and he seems less assured than he was earlier. “I think—you’re really—cool?—and smart—you seem nice so … sorry! God.” He rambles as he brushes his hands over his face.

You blink at him.

Namjoon takes your reaction as a bad one as he winces, chuckling lowly.

“I’m sorry. I’m not this … awkward.” He tells you.

You nod your head slowly trying to process his words. And you feel a little guilty knowing that your lack of response probably pushes Namjoon further into his shell. But he has a glare in his eye that shows that he won’t be affected so easily.

“Well.” He clears his throat. “I follow your podcast. And I think it’s really great. You offer some really interesting perspectives on the War on Drugs—or as you mentioned—the disproportionate effects of racial tension that lead to unjustified or mass incarceration rates in the U.S.”

Somehow you know you’ve said the exact same words in the monthly podcast you do with the International Relations department for extra credit. But when Namjoon speaks, it’s as if he’s carefully picking apart the context and nuance of your words so carefully before he quotes it back to you; as if he treats your opinion with heavy regard and not one of the light matters.

You feel flattered.

“Oh.” You blink. “Thank you?”

Namjoon offers you an easy grin. And you recall: captain of the football team, he says? He doesn’t really … fit the stereotype. Besides the fact that he looked insanely fit. He was gentle, that much you could tell. But you also were a little biased when it came to footballers because you only had Jungkook to compare him with.

“Sorry for just springing that on you.” He apologises sheepishly and you’re even more confused as to why he feels the need to say sorry. “It’s just that Kook was always so bitchy about introducing me to you whenever I asked so … I thought why not take the chance myself?”

You gape at him. You don’t know what to do with the set of new information you’re presented with. Firstly, the fact that someone like Namjoon paid attention to a nobody like you? And secondly, the weird revelation that Jungkook somehow gate kept his friendship … or whatever the fuck it was … with you.

“No, no.” You shake your head, “I’m really flattered. Thank you. No one’s ever … told me that before.” You give him a gentle smile because that’s all you can muster.

Namjoon returns it tenfold as he hikes his bag across his shoulder.

“Well, I gotta go now. Practice calls.” He jokes, waving at you. For a moment, he stills; as if remembering something before he fishes out a piece of paper from his pocket and shoves it to you in a haste.

“What is—?”

“My number. You know—if you ever want to talk. About … stuff. I think you’re super smart—and intelligent. They’re synonymous but yeah. If you want.” He rambles.

You blink up at him and before you can muster a response, he’s darting away.

You watch his figure retreat and notice that Jungkook is waiting for him a good distance away. But his eyes aren’t on Namjoon’s somewhat giddy figure—but on you.

He stares at you long and hard, and you feel conflicted. The paper in your hand nearly chafes, but the feeling is easily forgotten when his expression hardens.

When Namjoon reaches him with a clasp to his back, the pair walks off. Not before he gives you one passing glance over his shoulder that leaves you feeling more restless than ever.

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