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quietmyfearswith · 3 years

Text

setting off ; stucky x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 2,463 words

summary — in which steve and bucky get the happy ending they deserve with their best doll.

warnings — implied smut, fluff, talks of starting a family, no curse word i think?

pairing — stucky x fem!reader

a/n — pretty self-indulgent lol,, feedback is appreciated and asks/messages are open!

tagging — @la-cey @pedropcl @iloveshawnieboi @isysen

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

“Can someone at least give me a hint of where we’re going?” Y/N whined for what would be the fifth time in the last hour. She had been asleep for the first three hours of their travel, but now that she woke up she struggled to return to slumber so instead she ate some snacks as she begged her two boyfriends to give her a faint clue of where they were going.

Steve was currently driving to their destination; he was exceeding about five kilometers the stated speed limit, which was enough evidence that he was excited to reach the end of their trip. Thankfully, the pick-up truck they bought allowed two more passengers beside the driver in the front so she was sandwiched in between the two super soldiers.

“It’s not a surprise if we tell you where we’re headed, doll,” Bucky swatted her thigh playfully, before gulping down the rest of his water bottle. “It still would be,” She argued as she swatted his thigh too, “You can tell me the location of where we’re and I still would be surprised with the actual place we’re gonna be staying at.”

Pissed with her logic, his metal fingers tickled her sides, causing her to attempt pushing his hand away, giggling as she squirmed further into Steve’s side. “Stevie! He’s being mean to me again!”

“Knock it off, you two!” Steve scolded them, chuckling to himself when they settled down immediately and both pouted at him. “Are you sure you’re our boyfriends and not our babysitter?” Bucky giggled at her comment, even pecked her cheek to show how proud he was of her remark.

The former Captain America playfully rolled his eyes as he sighed, “And here I was pulling up to our destination when I should have gone here alone and not show you the present we got you.” Upon registering his words, she sat up straight and twisted left and right as she excitedly asked, “Your present? What did you get me? Please give me a clue! Please, please, please!”

Bucky laughed at her pumped up state, bopping her nose he assured her, “Well the only clue we’ll give is that we looked and searched hard for this gift of yours — we knew you had to have the best one.” Pouting and nose scrunching up in confusion, she turned to Steve and before she could even speak, he was already saying, “What Buck said is true, we hope you like our present.”

Pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek — she wanted to kiss his lips but didn’t want to distract him from driving — then a short, teasing kiss on Bucky’s lips she reassured them, “You both know I will always appreciate whatever it is you give me.”

Covering her eyes with his flesh hand, the former Winter Soldier smirked, “Well the only way to find out is when you see it. Keep your eyes closed for a while okay?” She whined but was quickly being shushed, “We’re pulling in now and you’re about to see your present!”

Once she felt the car come to a stop, she clawed at the hand that was shielding her from seeing her present as she thought she was permitted to look at it. But as she was being guided out of the truck with the hand still covering her eyes, she felt that maybe it still wasn’t the cue for her to see it.

“Okay stand there, are you alright?” Steve asked after guiding her to stand at a certain angle. “I’m fine, Steve! Now show me already! I’m getting impatient,” She was about to beg their ears off until Bucky slid his hand out of her eyes and she gasped out upon seeing the house. “Here you go, doll. Our brand new home.”

Her eyes became glossy as tears were peeking out, as she turned over to them and choked out, “A lake house?” Steve nodded, wiping the tears off her eyes before they got the chance to spill and kissed her lips, “Yes, doll. Your dream lake house.”

“We chose a secluded one so that way no one can complain when we’re too loud at night,” Bucky’s cocky reply was short-lived since Steve hit his arm which only made their girl laugh and hug them both. The two took her tight hug as a sign that she loved it. Removing himself early from the hug, Steve called, “Come on now! We still need to show you around the house!”

With every step she took, she clung onto each of her boyfriends’ hands tightly. The white coat of the house made her feel even more serene. Having multiple levels, she wondered about how many rooms there were, “How many floors and rooms are there? There seems to be way too many.”

“Five rooms, excluding the game and theater room that is. And there are two stories plus the basement.” Steve recalled as he opened the front door, the sight of the living room immediately greeted her. Soft couches, neat fireplace, and bookshelves beside a vinyl player greeted her. Sitting down on one of the seats, she giggled when the mattress was soft enough that it almost engulfed her completely, “I love this so much!”

Bucky picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulder, “Wait ‘til you see the kitchen!” Placing her back to stand on her toes, he showed her how they fulfilled her dream kitchen of having two refrigerators, two ovens topped with an incredible gas stove, as well as a spacious countertop for when she baked and cooked for them. Smiling, she hugged Bucky and kissed his bearded cheek, “I love it so much! ‘M gonna stay here all the time now.”

Perking up at her statement, Steve smirked as he offered his arm for her to hold on to, “May I show you my favorite part of the house?” Finding it silly with how fancy he was being, she tangled an arm around his, while her other arm stretched out for Bucky to hold on to and his bionic hand laced with hers, “I’d love to see it, Mr. Rogers.”

Opening the black, wooden door, she was shown the master bedroom with a bed large enough to accommodate the three of them. “You cheeky bubba! The bedroom?!” She laughed as she plopped herself down on the soft mattress.

You’d think despite them being centenarians they would be stiff and boring, but the way they jumped in the bed and tickled her sides or rubbed their beards on her neck to elicit even more giggles from her suggested that they were more lively than you would suspect.

“Stop! I concede,” The last word was prolonged into a squeal with the way they were attacking her gently. Taking mercy on her, they stopped as they laid beside her, an arm draped over her figure as they traced her skin with their fingertips.

“I love it,” She spoke, filling the tranquil silence, “Thank you so much for this. I love you both so much.” Bucky cleared his throat and kissed her tricep, “Well this was something we hoped you’d love. And something we wanted to give you, as a thank you.”

Both super soldiers agreed not to mention the little part he slipped up; Steve smacked his flesh hand and groaned a bit. “As a thank you?” She sat up as her eyes shifted over between the two men. They followed her as they sat down too and explained to her, “Buck and I have come to realize how much you have sacrifice for us.”

“The way you stood up for me when the whole Accords happened,” Bucky continued and recalled how she stopped their airport battle when she stopped them upon uncovering the truth and seizing Zemo for discovering his plans. “You fought and stood up for me when everyone else was convinced I was the bad guy.”

Her hand caressed his cheek — her touch had cured him of his terrible association with physical contact. Images of when HYDRA treated him horribly in Bucky’s own time vanished from his mind every time he physically came in contact with someone thanks to her gentle handling of him and her incredible patience. He nuzzled his cheek into her palm, she was about to speak until Steve spoke up, “When we said that we wanted to step down from being Avengers, it was because of you.”

“Me?” This shook her to her core. She knew about their exhaustion with all the fighting that they had to do in order to save the world — everytime they needed to be patched up and taken care of, she’d done all that for them without complaints. But never did she imagine they would quit being part of the team for her, “I’m so sorry if I made it feel like you have to do all this for me.”

Sensing her panicked state, they both calmed her down as Steve rubbed her thighs while Bucky massaged her shoulders to settle her squirming body, “It’s not like that, doll. I should have been clearer with what I meant.”

Managing to relax, she looked up at Steve with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, encouraging him to speak his mind, “Buck and I talked about how tired we are. All this fighting — even though they all were for a good cause, of course — has started to take a toll on us. Not just physically, but emotionally as well,” He cleared his throat as he felt himself beginning to tear up, “It was evident that we badly needed an exit from this lifestyle that was forced upon us.”

“But we somehow got a hint that maybe there would be no way out for us,” Bucky continued when Steve stared at him to go on, Y/N too followed his gaze and looked at him, “That maybe it was set in stone that our fate would be to fight in battle forever.” Her heart clenched and fell into pieces at that thought. “What a cruel fate that would be, love,” She sympathized.

“Then you came along,” Steve resumed with a smile on his lips, “We now found a reason to keep going and fighting. Because we wanted you to live safely and feely.” She thought that what he said would be impossible to top off with the way her heart was beating wildly against her chest, lips pursing as she pouted in adoration. But Bucky wasn’t going to let anyone — not even Steve — outdo him so he pressed a kiss on the top of her head as he spoke sincerely, “We wanted to give you the life you deserve. A life far from danger and uncertainty. So we bought this secluded lake house — giving us the chance to be ourselves and do whatever we want.”

What Bucky said was a close runner up to Steve’s words and she couldn't help but coo at their word as she tried her best to wrap her smaller arms around their hulking figures, “I love you both! So so so so much! I’m incredibly blessed to have the two of you in my life!” Wanting to snap out of their dreamy state, Steve clapped his hands, “Well how about we prepare our lunch.”

Excited at the thought of preparing a meal in her new kitchen, Y/N jumped off the bed with a smile as she scurried off to the kitchen, “I’m gonna make us some sandwiches!” As the two two super soldiers looked at each other after both taking note of how excited their girl was they both thought of the same thing — they made the right and best decision.

After munching down the delicious turkey avocado sandwich with chipotle mayonnaise, they all retired to the deck; both Steve and Bucky were lounging around on one of their chaise lounge chairs as they were clad in their swim shorts while Y/N swam around for a bit on the clear, warm water.

“I can get used to always swimming,” She stated once she reached the top of the pool’s ladder and walked towards them, sitting down on Steve’s lap as she drank some of the iced tea they had prepared. “I, on the other hand, know that I can get used to seeing you in your swimsuit,” Bucky wolf whistled as he openly gawked at her bikini-clad figure.

Despite being with them for quite a few years now and getting used to Bucky’s playful behavior, she still gets bashful when she’s on the receiving end of Bucky’s silver tongue. She clicked her tongue at him as an attempt to weakly silence him, “Bucky Barnes! You and your silver tongue; someday I will catch you off guard the way you do to me.”

Steve decided to join in but unfortunately it didn’t help her cause, “Oh doll, I love you but we all know you get flustered even at the mere thought of flirting at us.” His arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he placed a kiss on her shoulder, as if he was comforting her; which Bucky found amusing as he chuckled. She hit Steve's shoulder as she scowled at Bucky, the two then decided to end their playful banter against their girl.

Upon being signalled to pull his chair closer to where Steve was sat, Y/N played with Bucky's metal fingers as she laid her head on her other boyfriend’s chest, “I love you both. Really, I do,” She lifted her head to kiss Steve’s slightly chapped lips deeply before muttering, “I love you, Steve.” To which he said the same without missing a beat.

“I love you, Bucky,” She declared before leaning over to kiss his lips with the same passion and vigour. “Can’t wait for this new chapter that’s waiting for us,” She sighed out, blissed and content.

Steve’s warm palm caressed her stomach as he spoke with hope, “Who knows? Maybe we can start our family now.” She knew it was something he wanted — even way back in the 40’s he was already hopeful for a family of his own. Bucky, however, always wanting to spite and retort Steve just for the sake of it quickly countered, “Or maybe just adopt a bunch of dogs so the house isn’t too quiet.”

Y/N laughed when both her boyfriends stuck their tongue out and made silly faces to tease each other even more; breaking up their fight, she turned to them and reassured them, “No matter what lies ahead, I know we all can agree that we will venture it together.” And the silence laced with the content smiles they had on their faces gave her the confirmation that indeed, they will go through it all together.

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rivers-rambles21 · 3 years

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The one where you’re both idiots

Part 8 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)

Summary | Reader and Bucky become friends after he saves her from a creep in their apartment building. Each chapter explores a different point in their friendship - very slow burn!

Warnings | 18+ only, Smut in later chapters (this is a slow burn), swearing, unprotected sex, oral sex, (later chapters)

This is my favourite chapter so far as we’ll start seeing the events of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier impact the story more.

“How was your session with the world’s worst therapist?” You asked as you started unpacking your groceries. You’d run into Bucky on your way home from picking up a few things for your evening meal and had invited him inside with the offer of a home cooked meal.

Taking the milk from you, he helped put your items away as he pondered his response. “Same as always, she asks about the nightmares, I lie to her and she starts writing on that damned notepad.” Taking a tomato from the bag, he snuck one into his mouth and put the rest away, giving him a second to think before continuing. He’d been at your apartment that many times by now he knew where everything lived.

Hoisting himself up onto the kitchen countertop, he sat in his usual spot as he watched you busy around, pulling your utensils out ready to cook. “She also brought up how alone I am.” Despite his efforts, his voice broke slightly, something that you didn’t fail to notice.

“Well that’s a load of bull” You scoffed as you turned to face him, opening your arms wide. “You’ve got me!”

He smiled back at you, his face lightening up. “That I do doll, that I do.”

Satisfied, you turned your back on him once again and began washing the vegetables.

“I had lunch with Yori,” He continued.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... I’ve also got a… got a date tomorrow” Your hands froze as you felt your heart break, your stomach twisting into knots. A second later you composed yourself and continued with the task at hand, rubbing your hands over the mushrooms repeatedly.

“Oh.” You remarked, not trusting your voice to say anything further.

“Yeah, Yori kind of set it up. I tried to explain there was a bit of a dance to this sort of thing but he went ahead with it anyway.” Bucky had missed your reaction when he’d told you about the date and proceeded to pick up one of your kitchen knives, twirling it between his fingers as a distraction.

Those seconds were all you needed to compose yourself as you shut off the water and began chopping the veg up, mentally preparing your response in your head. “Well it’s good to get out there, when was the last time you had a date?”

“1942 Stark Expo” He replied with no hesitation. You turned on your heel and gestured towards the cupboard above Bucky's head. With a smile, instead of moving aside, he spread his legs for you to step into. For a second, his smile made you forget what he’d just told you and you were back to it just being you and him, no mystery woman who you feared would take him from you.

“Lazy shit.” You muttered as you stepped between his open legs swinging the cupboard door open and reaching up for a can.

For Bucky, he was enjoying the view. Your top had risen and he had a perfect view of your stomach, begging to be kissed.

As you placed the can on the counter beside him and searched for the opener something suddenly dawned on you. “Does that mean you’ve not gotten laid since 1942?” Your eyes met his and he chuckled in response.

Picking up the can, he jabbed his knife into it and expertly cut into the lid, opening it with ease. Handing it back to you he shot you another smile.

“Believe it or not, courting women in the 1940’s was a bit different. Girls didn’t fuck outside of marriage as they do now, and if they did it was a rarity. But, that didn’t mean both of you couldn’t get off if you put other things to use.” He smirked back at you as your jaw dropped, mouth hanging open at his honesty. Not quite knowing what to do with that information you turned back to the stove, your cheeks flushed from not just the heat.

“Well… I’m sure your date tomorrow will be a welcome relief.”

“Eh… She's a nice girl and all but I don’t see it going anywhere. Beer?”

“Oh, um yes please.” A few moments later you heard your fridge open and close and the sound of bottle lids going into the trash. Leaving your beer to the side, he resumed his previous position and continued watching you cook.

“When was the last time you saw any action?” Bucky wasn’t sure why he asked in all honesty, he’d rather not know as just picturing you with anyone else drove him mad.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You laughed. “No but seriously I think it’s been two years now?” Taking a swig of your beer you leant against the counter and faced him. “Oh god, it’s been seven. I forgot about the blip. Holy shit.” Grabbing your beer again, you took a few more gulps, enjoying the liquid running down your throat.

Despite not really wanting to know the answer, Bucky found himself slightly pleased you’d not been with anyone in a while for purely selfish reasons.

The rest of the evening was spent eating good food and watching TV, something which Bucky didn’t take for granted. He’d only told his therapist part of the truth. When he was alone with you, enjoying each other's company, talking about nothing and everything, he felt calm - content.

The following day Bucky didn't hear from Y/N at all and his date went as he expected. The girl was nice, charming even but he didn’t feel a connection. He felt bad for lying about his gloves and even worse when she brushed off his comment around his age. Yori was the last straw and he had to get out of there. The guilt was overwhelming, suffocating and heavy. He’d rushed over to Yori’s place with the intention of confessing his sins but something held him back. It wasn’t the first time he’d hesitated, something about him just made him stop every time. Maybe it was the fact that Yori was a friend, someone who seemed to understand his odd quirks, put up with his grumpiness and still wanted to be around him. Then again, maybe he only did that as he got a free meal out of it.

He found himself back at his apartment building, banging on Y/N’s door, praying you were home. But he was met with silence.

He spent the rest of the night watching TV, drinking as many beers as he could before he eventually passed out, either out of boredom or tiredness, the mental battering he’d taken finally taking its toll.

It wasn’t until the following evening he finally saw you. The sound of bags dropping to the floor as you muttered explicits under your breath whilst searching for your keys was undeniably you.

Without a second thought, he opened his door, eager to see you.

“Hey doll”

Turning your heel, you faced him. “Oh hey Buck”

“Lost your key again?” He remarked, smirking.

“As usual” You muttered, finally finding them amongst the junk in your purse.

“I was worried about you y’know.” Your head snapped up, eyes meeting his piercing blues as he stared back at you. “You didn’t come home last night, it’s not very…. You. Who is he?”

A laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. “She is called Lauri and I just ended up staying over.” You tried to make yourself sound as convincing as possible, knowing deep down you hadn’t wanted to overhear any late night activities if his date had in fact gone well.

“Oh. Oh!” His eyes went wide when he thought he’d realised something but couldn’t have been further from the truth. “Well, I hope she’s treating you right.”

And he truly meant it. Despite pining after you these past few months, your happiness was his priority, regardless of how desperately he wanted to be the one fulfilling that for you.

You slowly opened your door with your back to him, trying to suppress a grin. “Way off the mark there Buck, although I’m pretty sure she would show me a great time, it’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

The small sigh of relief that left his lips as he processed what you said, making you pause for a moment. Surely he wasn’t happy that you - ? No, impossible.

“Fair enough.” He replied, coughing to hide a slight choke.

“Do you want to come in?” You asked, opening your door wide for him to enter. With a gentle smile he nodded, closing his own door behind him he walked into your apartment. You tried your best to not notice the way his t-shirt hugged his body in all the best ways, tightening around his broad shoulders before delving down to his biceps, the metal of his arm reflecting the light from the hallway. You said a silent prayer before following him in, urging your eyes to stop flitting back to his body and the way his jeans fitted around his tight- no Y/N, no.

You followed him further into your small apartment as he settled on the couch whilst you put your bag into your bedroom. Pulling the door, you gave yourself some privacy as you pulled some loungewear from your drawers before sliding your top off over your head. “How did your date go?” You asked. You’d prepared it over and over again in your head, testing your tone and delivery to avoid him picking up on the nervousness you felt asking the question.

“Disaster, I let half way through.”

Your eyes unintentionally lit up as you unfastened your bra, throwing it into the laundry basket in the corner of your room. “Jesus Buck, what did she do?”

You heard a shuffle coming from your living room, Bucky no doubt playing with the thread coming off your couch as he usually did when he was deep in thought. “It just didn’t feel natural y’know? I wasn’t comfortable with her, I couldn’t be myself, and then she brought up Yori and I-” He couldn’t quite finish his sentence and grunted as he struggled to find the words. Not needing to hear any more, you finished getting changed into your clothes and went back into the living room, plonking yourself down next to him.

“Well first off, not cool leaving half way through. But… this is New York so I'm pretty sure she’ll have been on worse dates.” You joked, trying to lighten the mood. Bringing your sock clad feet up onto the couch, you stretched your leg out and prodded the man beside you, prompting him to turn and face you. “You’ll tell him whenever you’re ready. For now though, focus on the positive. You went on a date with a girl…. Regardless of how short said date was” You covered your mouth as you giggled, his eyes rollg only forcing more laughs from you. Taking enough of your teasing, Bucky took action and tossed one of your many cushions towards you, landing squarely in your face knocking you back.

“Dick!” you squealed.

“Brat”

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #tfawts

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hellowkatey · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump Day 27

Prompt: “I can’t lose you too” (alternate prompt)

Read Part 1: Read My Mind (Day 5: “take me instead”) here!

Read on AO3

All These Things That I Have Done

When Qui-Gon sees the young Duchess running across the field alone, his worst suspicions are confirmed.

They were gone for too long. Obi-Wan wasn't answering his commlink, which was his first clue. Then, he reached out through their training bond, he was shocked to find his padawan felt faraway. Too far away for him to reach.

His padawan has been distant lately. His shields have been locked tight. Qui-Gon assumed being away from the Temple for so long was getting to him. Long missions can take a toll on young Jedi, and this one has been exceptionally lengthy and unpredictable. Even so, teenage angst is very different than the horrible feeling that fills the Force now.

He runs to meet her. Satine Kryze's eyes are brimmed with red and face flushed with exhaustion when they met one another.

"It's... Obi. Bounty hun...ters," she gasps between heavy breaths.

"Breathe child, breathe and tell me what has happened," he says as calmly as he can manage. Internally, his heart is racing with anticipation.

"Bounty hunters found us. Obi-Wan tried to fight them off, but one took him."

"How many, Satine?"

"Four," she looks past him. "Two are dead. One was near dead when I left him."

Oh, padawan. He should have gone with them. Should have been there to help his padawan and none of this would have happened. Still, something nags him. "Why did they take Obi-Wan?"

The girl's lip quivers.

"He... was very convincing."

The Jedi Master nods. He knows how Obi-Wan can get, and it doesn't surprise him at all that he would sacrifice himself.

"Alright... alright, we must move swiftly." He turns and walks with long strides back toward their ship. The young duchess trails close behind him. He can feel the anxiety radiating off her. But as they run up the ramp of the ship he also feels her draw in her worry, hiding it behind feigned confidence. Satine Kryze is young, but he cannot deny she has the spirit of a leader.

Qui-Gon immediately starts firing up the engines, only noticing that Satine has taken station at the navicomputer.

"Are you entering coordinates?" he asks.

"I'm tracking his location." He looks at her, raising an eyebrow. The young duchess shrugs. "I had a feeling, so I slipped my beacon into his pocket."

Clever one, he thinks, a small smile appearing on his lips. We are coming for you, Obi-Wan.

_________

They're in hyperspace as soon as they clear the atmosphere. The Kiffar bounty hunter has him strapped to the co-pilot chair, his hands now bound behind his back and uncomfortably pressed into the unpadded back of the chair.

While usually, Obi-Wan finds the buzz of hyperspace to be soothing, right now all he can think about is how with every passing second he grows further from Satine and his master. He can feel it in the tug of his training bond growing thinner and thinner, and Obi-Wan squeezes his eyes shut as any feeling of proximity vanishes from his mind.

"You're young," the bounty hunter says, his demeanor much less imposing and even a little awkward now that they aren't in the midst of a stand-off. "But you dealt with my team quite efficiently."

"I have my duty as you have yours," he says, having to choke out the implication that hunting bounties are any type of dutiful career.

"Oh, that's what they're calling it these days?" Obi-Wan opens one eye to see the bounty hunter leaning on the side of his chair, a smug look on his face. "Back in my day, we called it going steady."

Suddenly Obi-Wan wishes he'd been thrown in the brig. "We're not--"

"No need to explain yourself. I knew the Jedi couldn't be complete squares."

Well, this certainly wasn't the post-capture conversation Obi-Wan expected to have. He didn't expect any post-capture conversation, actually. He shifts in the seat, trying to relieve the numbness that's slowly traveling up his wrists.

"Are you hungry?" the bounty hunter asks, pulling out a ration bar from his pocket. Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. "It's not poisoned or anything, I packed this for myself, kid."

"I wasn't worried about it being poisoned until you brought it up. I was more wondering what your motive here is."

He chuckles. "My motive seems to be pretty clear to me."

"I don't know much about being a bounty hunter, but ensuring their marks are comfortable doesn't seem to be part of the job description."

"So you reject a snack 'cause you don't think I should be a hospitable host?" He shakes his head, opening the packet of the protein bar and taking a big bite out of it. "Whatever flies your ship, kid."

But it's not that, and Obi-Wan knows it. He just has this sinking feeling... like something isn't adding up here. It's not the being captured part, or the ration bar... Obi-Wan looks at the bounty hunter and his gaze flickering back and forth between the controls and him.

The feeling of guilt is what is making him feel so uneasy. The emotion is filling this ship, and it's originating from the Kiffar. Obi-Wan looks at the navicomputer, and realizes though the name of their projected location isn't displayed, the coordinates are, and they are not the coordinates of Mandalore... or anything even near that system.

"Where... are you taking me? Who ordered the bounty?"

The hunter goes still, not looking back at Obi-Wan this time. He feels the fields of his restraints increase in energy, digging into his wrists even more.

"I can't give you that--"

"This was never about Mandalore, was it?" he says, his throat tightening when he feels the nervousness radiating off the hunter. "This wasn't about Satine at all."

The Kiffar finally turns around. "A Jedi-- a student Jedi-- is worth the big bucks. Money that I need."

Obi-Wan stares back at him with alarm. "But... who?"

In that moment the ship pulls out of hyperspace. A planet Obi-Wan has never seen before looms before them. He gasps silently. The Force here is greatly unbalanced, making his entire body go cold. Darkness seems to be trying to grab him, pulling him into its icy grasp. He looks at the Kiffar, who seems as unsettled as he is. He puts the ship in orbit, and stands from the pilot chair to work on a panel near the door.

"I'm sendin' you down in a pod."

"You know you don't have to do this. I have other bounties on my head you could take me to. Mandalore--Mandalore would take me."

"The Mandalore bounty is only valid with the girl. Or to bring you in dead..." he glances over Obi-Wan. "I don't kill kids."

"To send me down there would be as good as killing me!"

Truth be told, he hasn't a clue what even is down there, but never in his life has ever felt darkness of this kind. Though the Sith are thought to all be dead, he can't shake the feeling that maybe the Jedi are wrong about something.

The bounty hunter pauses. Just a moment and in that moment Obi-Wan hopes... but his hope is in vain as a moment later he resumes the takeoff codes and turns back to the padawan. Obi-Wan's stomach drops as he grabs him by the arm, pulling him to his feet and basically dragging him toward the back of the ship. He reaches through his bond one more time, but there seems to only be static surrounding him.

Though he promised not to fight back, the situation has changed.

Obi-Wan summons the Force, sending various loose articles lying around the cockpit flying at the bounty hunter. The Kiffar releases him out of reflex to protect himself from a projectile extinguisher, and Obi-Wan jumps out of his grasp and runs out of the cockpit. Heavy footsteps follow close behind as he jumps down into the cargo bay, searching for some sort of weapon.

There's a locked cabinet on the far end. He runs to it as the bounty hunter makes it down the ladder. In his mind's eye he gets the flicker of warning through the Force, and he ducks as a few blaster shots scourch the wall beside him. He reaches out through the Force, and the door of the cabnet crunches, revealing a few blasters and a vibroblade inside. With his hands still tied behind his back he backs into the cabinet and grabs the vibroblade, presses it against his restraints and grits his teeth as he turns it on. The jolt of electricity makes the shackles heat up and burn his wrists, but it also is enough to short circuit the electrical locks. The electrocuffs drop, and Obi-Wan has to dive out of the way to avoid another assault of blasters.

"Nice try, kid," the Kiffar says, as he stands over Obi-Wan. He is about to jump up and continue the fight, but the bounty hunter holds up a remove, and the padawan realizes too late that though his hands are free, the electrocuffs attached to a waist-lock that he hadn't yet gotten to remove. The button is pressed, and a sudden jolt of electricity courses through his body, making him shake and his muscles sieze. Dark dots dance before his vision, and even when the shock ceases he can still feel his nerves sending prickling sensations up his arms and legs. His eyelids are heavy, wanting so desperately to close, but he knows he mustn't. The bounty hunger scoops him up like a youngling, swatting away Obi-Wan's pitiful attempt to continue fighting back. "You're tough, I'll give you that. Maybe it won't be so bad."

His body is thrown roughly into a smaller compartment, the door closing immediately behind him. Obi-Wan tries to push himself up, but he's still groggy from the electrocution.

The escape pod shutters, and then separates from the ship. His eyes finally close for good as the thrusters kick in, and he begins his descent into the dark planet.

__________

The ship jerks as it suddenly pops out of hyperspace, no usual regard for courtesy braking coming from the distraught Jedi Master. She stares with wide eyes at the planet that did not show up on Master Jinn's star charts when they tried to track the course of the bounty hunter. They theorized that perhaps there was to be handoff.

But no. There is a planet here, and the sight of it makes Satine's skin crawl.

She tries not to think about the fact that had she not slipped the beacon into Obi-Wan's pocket, they wouldn't have been able to find him so far out in the Outer Rim.

"What is this place?" she asks. Master Jinn looks pale, his eyes scanning frantically. Even though he has the face of serenity and calmness, she can see the evidence of his desperation.

"It's..." he trails off, breathing deeply. "It's somewhere we do not want to be, young one."

The beacon is blinking rapidly now-- they're close. Satine presses her face against the front shield, looking for some evidence of the bounty hunter's ship.

"There," she hears the Jedi say softly, and she turns to see he has already begun steering toward a loitering ship orbiting nearby. As though the ship sees it has been spotted, its engines immediately fire up, and it turns in the opposite direction.

"No!" she bellows, pressing her hand against the window. "Obi-Wan!"

"Calm, Satine," Master Jinn says with surprising lack of urgency.

"But he--"

"He is still here." The ship dips, and Satine sees that plummeting toward the surface of the planet is a small escape pod. Master Jinn powers up the canons, carefully targeting, and firing at the pod. She holds her breath as the canon shot masterfully hits the escape pod, making the thrusters flicker out. It is knocked off course, now just floating through the anti-gravity of space. Relief washes through her.

They fly down to the escape pod, picking it up in their tractor beams. Satine jumps up as soon as they receive the confirmation the hatch has secured, running out of the cockpit before the Jedi Master even has a chance to stand. She doesn't care what he may think of her behavior-- she just needs to know he is okay.

Her valiant Jedi-- an absolute imbecile sometimes, but truly the best thing she could have in a time that she has lost so much. Her home is being torn apart and through it all Obi-Wan has been there not just to protect her from the bounty hunters that have tried many times to kill her. He has also just simply been there for her. As a friend. As of recently, more than that.

Maybe that's why her heart is pounding as she presses the button to open the escape pod hatch over and over again, until finally a blast of steam hits her in the face and she has to turn away as the pod depressurizes and allows the door to open. As Satine squints through the thinning smoke, her heart drops to her feet.

Obi-Wan lays crumbled in the corner of the small pod, his eyes closed.

"Obi!" she jumps into the pod and kneels at his side, taking in the burned and bloodied marks on his wrists, the trickle of blood from his hairline that has dripped down his temple traced the contour of his cheekbones. "Obi please," she whispers, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I can't lose you, too."

She can feel eyes on her. And then a hand on her shoulder. She isn't sure how much Master Jinn has heard, but she doesn't care. A large hand reaches over her shoulder, pressing two fingers to Obi-Wan's neck just below his ear, and then stretching his hand over his eyes so his thumb and pinkie finger press against Obi-Wan's temples.

"He's alright," the Jedi Master says softly. "Let me take him into the cabin."

Satine moves, watches as the older Jedi picks up her Obi-Wan in his arms and carry him out of the escape pod. She stays in the escape pod a moment longer, drawing in a deep breath and then letting it out. He's alright... he's okay.

She sits as his bedside as Master Jinn gets the ship back into hyperspace. Gets them out of whatever place this is. He is pale, looks tired and quite young as he sleeps. She brushes his hair from his eyes-- it's grown quite long since this mission began, forming a slight wave at the ends that she likes to curl around her fingers.

"You stubborn, insipid man," she says softly to his sleeping form. "How dare you give yourself up for me? You should have seen the face of your master, he was quite worried," she swallows hard, remembering the look of complete resignation on his face when he offered himself in her place. He did it like it was the most logical choice in the world. She lays her head down on his chest, comforted in the feeling of his chest rising and falling. "I was quite worried... But I will not be going back on my promise to strangle you for your insolence now that I have you back."

"So I should have taken my chances on that planet, then?" a raspy voice rings out, and Satine's head snaps up. Obi-Wan's lovely blue eyes stare back at her, tired but twinkling with his own relief.

"Obi," she breathes, and throws her arms around his neck as he rises to meet her. His lips brush against her neck, his nose nestling in her hair. "You're awake."

"You'll have to try much harder than that to get rid of me, my dear."

She pulls back, unable to help the grin that has broken out across her face. "I'll keep that in mind next time you pull such a stunt."

"Stunts? Oh please, I am only doing my job and you find it incredibly enticing."

"You are gravely mistaken about that."

"Oh, I have seen the way you watch me practice with the lightsaber, you aren't quite as incognito as you believe."

She blushes, shaking her head. Only Obi-Wan would be toying with her as soon as he came out of being unconscious. He smiles back at her, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it softly. "I'd do it again."

Satine nods, reaching into his pocket and pulling out her tracking beacon that he apparently did not find. "I know."

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday27 #i can't lose you too #i wasn't sure about this one #it took forever to get into words #and i left a bit unresolved #but i also might expand on this idea of the sith capturing jedi padawans and force sensitives before the jedi knew they were back #wips #the killers references #obitine #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years

Text

Safe

Natasha x reader x Bucky

Masterlist Sleep Series Masterlist Halloween/Supernatural Masterlist

“There’s a rat.”

The Avengers were all seated in the living room of the tower. Steve had called a meeting and made it mandatory everyone attend.

“What do you mean there’s a rat?” Pietro asked Steve. “Like in the building or?”

“I mean, SHEILD has a rat.” He explained from the front of the room. “Fury’s not sure who, but someone’s been going through their files.”

“What files?” Clint asked. “Weapons? Agents? Missions?”

“Us.” Steve stated. “More specifically anyone who’s ever had any connection with the Red Room or HYDRA.” He said looking at the twins, Bucky and Natasha.

“Great.” Wanda grumbled. “So, they want our information?”

“Yes. They’ve been looking at any and all files SHEILD has on you four.” Steve confirmed. “Fury’s not sure why, but it’s very likely anything on record is now a known fact.”

“Fuck.” Natasha cursed, snapping her head to look at Bucky. “Bucky face time her.”

“Face time who?” Tony asked, speaking for the first time. “What are you two hiding?”

“Are you sure they would’ve gone after her?” Clint questioned, looking nervously at the red head.

“You know HYDRA.” Natasha said. “She’ll be seen as a weakness. James call her tell her to go to her brother’s or somewhere. Just get her out of the house.” She added, looking directly at Bucky.

“Not Barney’s. Tell her to go to my place. I’ll call Laura and let her know Y/N will be staying for a while.” Clint said, making Natasha and Bucky nod.

“Are you three going to tell us what’s going on?” Tony questioned again. “What’re you two so worried about?”

“Our address is on those files.” Bucky snapped, quickly dialing a number.

“Is this another secret wife situation?” Tony asked.

“Not wife, girlfriend.” Natasha corrected, with a slightly panicked look. “But she’s ours and if HYDRA know where we live, they’ll try and take her.”

“Y/N.” Bucky suddenly sighed in relief. “Doll, you need to drop whatever you’re doing and go to Laura’s.”

“Why is the screen black? Y/N can you see us?” Natasha demanded, moving closer to look at the phone screen.

“I’m sorry.” A male voice said, making the two stiffen. “But Y/N isn’t available now. Would you like to leave her a message?” They asked chuckling. A man in appeared on the screen but they didn’t recognize him.

“What did you do to her?” Bucky growled, making the rest of the team watch him wearily. “If you’ve touched one hair on her head, I’m going to rip your,”

“Ah, ah, ah.” The voice cut him off. “I am currently in possession of your little doll. I would suggest if you want her to look as pretty as she does now, you stop with the threats.”

“What do you want?” Steve asked, taking the phone out of Bucky’s hand in case he broke it.

“What I’ve always wanted. I want my twins back. I want my soldat back. And I want the black widow.” They told him. “I’ll be in contact.” They added, hanging up the phone before anyone could say anymore.

“Fuck.” Bucky growled, standing up and beginning to pace. “I said we should’ve gone home last weekend. I said it and if we were there,”

“They would’ve got you both and probably killed her.” Tony cut in, making the brunette and red-head glare at him. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’ve got to think logically here.”

“Why didn’t they just say what they wanted then?” Pietro asked. “Why hang up and leave us all wondering?”

“So we can’t track the call.” Bruce spoke up, looking at the blonde. “We can’t find their location; they get to keep Y/N as hostage until they get what they want.”

“We’re going home.” Natasha said. She was standing next to Bucky and giving the team a firm look. “We’re going to see if we can get any information on these bastards at home.”

“I’m coming with you.” Clint said, standing up.

“Clint, you don’t have to do that.” Natasha told her friend, looking softly at him.

“The hell I don’t.” He snorted with no humour. “They might have taken your girlfriend, but she’s my sister. They took my little sister and I want her back.” He said firmly.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” Wanda said, looking at Clint.

“Add that to the list of things we were unaware of.” Tony commented, shaking his head slightly.

“I made sure she was kept off the books.” Clint told her, after narrowing his eyes at the billionaire. “I wanted to keep her safe.”

“You three go to the house try and find what you can.” Steve said to the three. “We’ll see what we can find, and we’ll look for the rat.”

“Thank you, Steve.” Bucky gave a small smile to his friend. “It means a lot.” He said sincerely.

“Don’t mention it.” Steve said, returning the smile. “Go.” He added. Steve didn’t have to say more as the three were already moving out of the room. They only hoped they could find something.

They didn’t find anything. At least nothing of great use. On the security camera they found a video of three men in all black and masks knock Y/N out, not without a fight, and drag her out of the house.

HYDRA hadn’t called back and the search so far had led to nothing. She’d been gone for a few weeks and her disappearance had taken its toll on the three who knew her.

The team were sitting in the common room three weeks into Y/N’s disappearance, the three making plans and the rest of the team trying to help, when Bucky got a call.

“Hello?” He asked, assuming it would be one of Fury’s updates.

“Accept the face call.” A distorted voice commanded down the line. Before Bucky could respond the line went dead.

“Who was it?” Natasha asked, noticing Bucky stiffen slightly. Bucky began to answer when the phone rang again. He accepted the face time and felt his blood simultaneously boil and freeze.

The man was back on the screen, smirking evilly at Bucky, with a struggling Y/N in his arms. Cuts adorned her face, some deep, some healing and some still bleeding, bruises littered her neck and shoulders and she was being held by her neck. Her hands were gripping his arm and were covered in deep cuts and it looked as if one of her wrists were broken.

“Hello soldat.” The man said, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. Tony and Bruce immediately grabbed their laptops and started typing furiously. “I just thought you’d like to say hello to your little doll.” He said casually, running a finger down her jaw.

Y/N recoiled immediately and attempted to bite his finger. The man laughed as he pulled it away before smacking her across the face. The sound echoed throughout the room and had Clint, Bucky and Natasha seething in anger.

“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Clint snarled, glaring at the man on the screen. The man merely laughed before taking Y/N’s face in one of his hands.

“Your girl is tougher than she looks.” He commented. “I haven’t been able to get a sound out of her at all during our time together.”

“You can have me and Bucky, but don’t you dare lay another finger on her.” Natasha said, glaring at the man.

“Giving up so easily?” He asked chuckling. “This must be what it’s like to hold someone’s heart in your hand.”

“Did you not hear her?” Bucky growled. “You can have us, just let her go.”

“You must take me for a fool.” The man snapped, squeezing Y/N’s face tighter in his grip. “You think I don’t know you’re tracking this address as we speak. You won’t find it.” He promised. “I don’t want just you two, I want the full set. You were ours first and we want you back.”

“You don’t need the twins.” Bucky insisted. “You just need us, and you can have us.”

“It’s not enough anymore.” The man said, shaking his head. “I want the set and I want information. Information I think this little doll knows and one way or another I always get what I want.” He told them. “Say good-bye Y/N.” the call ended quickly, and Bucky threw the phone across the room narrowly missing Pietro.

“Anything Stark?” Natasha asked, grabbing Bucky’s hand in her own as she looked at the man. Tony shook his head at the trio.

“I’m sorry but he wasn’t bluffing.” Tony said, staring down at the laptop. “I couldn’t get a hold of his location whatsoever.”

“But I might have something.” Bruce spoke up without looking away from the computer. “I pulled his call up on my laptop and I noticed something.” He added as the three moved over to stand behind him. “Were you watching her hands at all?” Bruce asked.

“No, I was too busy watching his hands on her.” Natasha snapped, feeling furious at the memory of his hands on her neck, touching her.

“Watch her hands this time.” Bruce said, playing the video. He’d turned the sound off, so they didn’t have to hear the mystery man’s vile words again as they watched Y/N’s hands begin to furiously sign.

“Moving today. London. I love you.” Clint said, reading her signs.

“There’s a few rumoured bases in London and the surrounding area.” Steve informed them. “We should move quickly, once they get what they want out of Y/N, it’s not likely they’ll keep her alive long.”

“They won’t get anything out of her.” Bucky told the man.

“Buck, you know better than anyone else what they do to get what they want.” Steve said, giving his friend a sad look.

“No, they won’t get anything out of her.” Clint insisted. “She’s mute.” He supplied.

“Which might be worse than if she could speak.” Tony said, making the others turn to him. “They clearly don’t know she’s mute or knows ASL. They believe she’s just not breaking. They’re going to make it their mission to get her to speak, to break her. Until they get what they want or she’s dead.”

“Then I don’t know why we’re wasting time here.” Natasha said, getting to her feet. “The three of us will go to London, we’ll let you know if we find anything else to worry about.”

“I’m coming with you.” Steve told the three. “She’s important to you, so she’s important to me.” He added, looking at Bucky this time.

“Thank you.” Bucky said, giving the man a one-armed hug.

“We should all come.” Bruce stated, shutting his laptop as he stood. “It’s a chance to save your girl and to damage HYDRA in the process.”

“I’m up for a little destruction.” Tony said, standing next to Bruce. Wanda and Pietro agreed and stood next to the rest of their team.

“Thank you.” Natasha said, nodding at the team. Everyone quickly went up to their rooms and began to pack a bag and their weapons.

“We will get her back.” Bucky promised as Natasha threw items into her bag. She sighed and stopped packing to face her boyfriend. “We will.”

“I know.” Natasha said, moving over to him to wrap his arms around his waist. “And when we do, they’re all going to pay.” She vowed.

It had been a week since they got the second call. They arrived in London that night and began to work. They’d scoured every rumoured base in London and the surrounding area, except one. It was in the countryside and it was near impossible to see, unless you knew what you were looking for.

“Steve, you, Wanda and Pietro will take care of any agents that attempt to attack. Tony, you and Bruce can have a field day and play with their computers and files. Me, Clint and Buck will find Y/N.” Natasha told the team in a no-nonsense tone. She was fully decked in gear, along with the two men, ready to take out the world to save their girl/sister.

“Got it.” The team told the woman. It was only a few more minutes before chaos ensued and everyone did what they had to do.

Clint, Bucky and Natasha ran ahead of the fight and into the building. Praying they would find the girl alive.

Reader POV

You grit your teeth together in agony. If you could make a sound, you would’ve been screaming right now. The man who had orchestrated your extraction from your home was a sadistic bastard, you decided.

He thought you were just being stubborn when you didn’t make a sound. Thought you were just very well trained when you refused to speak or give him any information.

Even if you could speak, you wouldn’t tell him anything. Why would you? He wanted to hurt your brother, hurt your lovers. He could go to hell for all you cared.

“You’re starting to bore me.” The man sighed, turning the electricity off. The current stopped surging through your body and you let out a breath. “Usually I can get anyone to break in a few days, you’ve been with me a month and still nothing. You haven’t spoken, you haven’t screamed, you haven’t made one little noise. It’s awfully boring.” He said, circling the chair you’d been strapped down to.

He grabbed your chin tightly and forced you to look at him. “We’re going to play a new game. It’s called truth or punishment. You tell me the truth about what you know, or I douse you in water and try electrocution again.” He waited several seconds for you to answer but you only pulled your chin out of his grip. “So, you pick punishment, have it your way.” He snarled, spinning away from you.

The man doused you in icy water that made your teeth chatter and your skin burn. Several more wires were connected to your body and the man stood next to the switch with a smirk.

“You brought this on yourself.” He told you and flicked the switch. You opened your mouth and let out a long silent scream as the burning sensation travelled through your body. The sensation only lasted a few seconds before the door burst open. Your eyes were still screwed shut, so you didn’t see who entered, only felt the electrical current suddenly stop. You refused to open your eyes as your body continued to shake in the chair.

“Y/N, Y/N open your eyes for me, sweetheart.” A voice said as your restraints were undone. You shook your head as you heard the sound, you didn’t want to play this game.

“Darling it’s us we’re here.” Natasha said as fingers ran through your hair. You pulled your hands over your ears and started mouthing, I don’t want to play, over and over. A set of hands, one warm and one cool, grabbed your hands and pulled them away.

“Baby doll, this isn’t a game. This is real I promise, open your eyes for us, please.” Bucky cooed softly. It took several seconds for you to open your eyes and when you did, they filled with tears.

They were here. Bucky, Nat and Clint. They were here and this time it wasn’t one of his sick games. They were real. You launched yourself at Bucky and started sobbing into his neck.

“Shh, we’re here. You’re safe now.” Bucky cooed, pulling you off the chair. Your legs were so weak you immediately collapsed and would’ve fallen to the ground if not for Bucky.

“We’ve gotta get out of here.” Clint said, drawing your attention to him. “She needs medical attention. Sweetheart where does it hurt the most?” He asked, looking at you.

Your hands were still shaking violently, and your wrist bent at an awkward angel, but you tried to sign anyway.

My wrist, I think it’s broken, but everything hurts. Everything burns.

“We’ll get her to the quinjet.” Natasha said. “We can at least set her wrist and deal with some of the deeper cuts. We’ll have to get her to the med bay for treatment for the electrocution and to see how bad her wrist is.”

Without another word Bucky lifted you off the ground and gently, but firmly, cradled you into his chest. The four of you began running out of the building before making it onto the jet. A man you recognized to be Tony Stark was inside along with Bruce Banner.

“She okay?” Dr Banner asked, rushing over to the four of you as Bucky set you down.

“She’s going to be.” Clint said, watching you in worry as you flinched as you shifted wrong on the chair. You turned your gaze to your brother and narrowed your eyes at him.

She is sitting right here. Don’t make me smack you, Clinton.

“I’m sorry.” He told you as Natasha and Bucky snickered at him. Natasha began to set your wrist as Bruce cleaned some of your cuts. “But no more signing for a while, you’re going to hurt your wrist even more.”

Raising your other hand, you mock saluted the man while rolling your eyes slightly.

“I like her.” Tony commented, smirking at you. “Why have you three been keeping her to yourself all this time? If you had have introduced me sooner, we could’ve been sarcastic buddies by now.”

“Tony you two can get acquainted later.” Bruce said, grabbing a jar and needle from the medical bag. “Y/N, I’m going to give you something to help you sleep.” Bruce said, looking at you, needle in hand.

At the sight of the needle you visibly recoiled and shifted away from Bruce. Natasha put her hand on your shoulder to stop you moving, Bucky grabbed your uninjured hand and Clint kneeled in front of you.

“Hey sweetheart, look at me. Look at me. You’re okay sweetheart.” Clint soothed, taking your face in his hands and making you look at him. “You trust me, right? You trust Nat and Buck?” He asked and you nodded. Of course, you trusted them.

“Then trust us when we say Bruce is just giving you something to sleep.” Natasha said, squeezing your shoulder gently. You stared at between them all for a few seconds before slowly nodding.

“Ok?” Bucky asked. You nodded again and squeezed his hand before pulling it away and then signing okay. “Okay. Go ahead, Bruce.” Bucky said, turning to the doctor. Bruce nodded and slowly injected the needle into your arm. The effects were fast and soon you were asleep.

“The next time I find you trying to pull that IV out, I’m going to tape it down and then I’ll tape your hand down.” Natasha threatened, handing you a glass of water. Placing it on the bedside table you quickly signed;

But it’s itchy and annoying.

“I know it is, but Bruce says you need it. So, you are going to put up with it and stop signing. Use the whiteboard or you’ll screw your wrist up.” Natasha scolded, narrowing her eyes at you as you went to sign your response.

You rolled your eyes before grabbing the white board next to you.

Happy? You wrote.

“Very.” Bucky said, coming back into the room. “Clint called, he said he and Laura are about halfway here. They should be here in a couple hours.”

They didn’t have to come. You wrote. I’m going to be just fine, they didn’t need to drive all the way here.

“They love you, just like we do.” Natasha said, sitting next to you. “They were worried about you and they want to make sure you’re okay.”

I am fine.

“We know, but we were all scared when you were taken.” Bucky told you, taking a seat next to Nat. “We want to make sure you’re safe.”

Meaning I’m not going to be left alone for awhile?

“A long time.” Natasha confirmed.

I don’t mind. I love you guys.

“And we love you too.” Bucky said, leaning down to kiss you. Natasha took his place when he pulled away. Natasha shifted so she was laying next to you and Bucky crawled over to your other side.

Laying between both your lovers, knowing your brother and sister-in-law were going to be with you soon, you had never felt safer.

Taglist

@piper-koko-barnes-rogers @skeletoresinthebasement @hopingforbarnes @agent-barnes40

Show your support. Give it a like. Leave a comment. Share with your friends and reblog. Inbox/Message me any comments, ideas, pairings you’d to like to see, if you want to be added to the taglist or anything you’d like.

Coming soon;

Steve x reader x Bucky

Bucky x reader x Sam

Sam x reader x Sam

Natasha x reader x Bruce

Steve x reader x Sam x Bucky

Natasha x reader x Sam x Steve

Natasha x reader x Bucky x Sam x Steve

Bucky x reader x Thor

Pepper x reader x Tony

Natasha x reader x Peggy x Wanda

Natasha x reader x Wanda

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buckleysjareau · 4 years

Text

you feel like the sun on my face

Buck has a way of doing things and saying things that even in Eddie’s worst moods, he still can’t fight his smile.

Eddie's view on Buck's Wikipedia spirals and the beginning of the brilliant idea it inspires.

part 1/3 in my series ‘cause i’m not too far and you’re my favorite place on ao3

cw; non-graphic description of anxiety, scary facts about tsunamis (they’re freaky so this is just to be safe)

One thing Eddie noticed about Buck in the time they’d become friends was that Buck loved to research. He was full of obscure knowledge and useless academic insight and he never let people forget that.

The longer they were friends, the more Eddie realized it was used as a coping mechanism. After bad calls, he’d sit on his laptop and fall down a Wikipedia rabbit hole that, according to Buck, is extremely difficult to get out of.

After the train derailment, and as Buck put it ever so dramatically, the derailment of his sanity, he’d taken Buck back to his house. After the exhausting night they had, he figured Buck would fall right to sleep as soon as he hit the couch. He offered his bed, they were two adults, they didn’t have to make sharing a bed weird; but no, Buck insisted he sleep on the couch.

Which would have been fine with Eddie if Buck had actually slept.

“How did you know my laptop password?” He snorts when he realizes Buck is using his laptop.

When Buck turns to look at him with a smirk, Eddie’s eyes widen as he notices Buck’s bloodshot eyes and the bags under them. “Chris’ birthday, dude? Really?”

“Have you slept a wink?” He leans up against the wall, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

“Probably not.” He shrugs. “Too busy reading about the evolution of cameras.”

“The what?” Eddie’s mouth drops. “Why would you need to know about the evolution of cameras? And why my laptop? Don’t you have a phone?”

“Why wouldn’t I need to know about the evolution of cameras? The history of the camera began even before the introduction of photography. It evolved from the camera obscura through so many generations of photographic technology like daguerreotypes, calotypes, dry plates, and film. Now we’ve got cameras on our phones, and not to mention cameras and phones didn’t used to exist, which is crazy.” Buck sounded exhausted but enthused at the same time and Eddie curses himself for finding his coping mechanism adorable. “Speaking of phones, to answer your question, it died somewhere around three.”

Eddie nods. “So that’s why Maddie’s called me six times.”

Buck looks at him sheepishly. “Sorry?”

The next time Eddie catches him during one of his Wikipedia binges, it happens a month after they get together.

During family dinner at the station, Bobby mentioned that Harry begged to have a beach day and proceeded to invite the rest of the one-eighteen on their next day off. Eddie looked over to his boyfriend at the mention of it but Buck wasn’t showing any signs that he wasn’t okay with going.

But he was always good at putting on a mask. Spectacularly good at it.

When he wakes up on the day they’re supposed to go, he sends Buck a quick text before he goes about his usual routine. He gets Chris up, brushes his teeth, attempts to make a nice breakfast for them, and gets Christopher ready for the day.

When Buck doesn’t text him back by the time he checks his phone again, he starts to worry. He feels foolish for worrying about not getting a text back, especially when it’s possible that Buck could be going through his morning routine as well, but his reason for worrying is justified.

He gives it another hour before he stops torturing himself waiting for Buck to call or text just to let him know he is on his way.

“Chris, buddy, change of plans! We’re gonna pick up Buck on the way.”

“I thought he was picking us up?”

Eddie smiles through his worry. “I think he overslept, bud. We’re gonna go wake him up.”

Christopher grins. “Surprise attack?”

Eddie snorts. “Surprise attack.”

He lets himself in with his key after knocking fails to work. He automatically sees Buck slumped over the island in his kitchen, just barely sitting on the white stool. His laptop is open and next to it, Buck is dozed off.

Eddie squints to see where Buck landed in his Wikipedia spiral and when he sees what it is, his heart squeezes in his chest.

The tsunami with the highest runup was the 1958 Lituya Bay megatsunami, which had a record height of 524 m (1,719 ft).

He skims through enough of the page to know he’s looking through Wikipedia’s page on tsunamis. He looks at the top to see the tabs he has open which only makes him feel worse.

How To Survive a Tsunami, According to Science

2019 Santa Monica Tsunami

Tsunamis In History

Dealing with Aquaphobia

There’s a lot of tabs open and all of them have to do with tsunamis. He knew this would be upsetting for him, he knew Buck was pushing his limits by even saying yes to going. He should have seen this coming.

“Hey, buddy, I’m gonna wake up Buck and we’re gonna have a little talk. Do you mind going to the couch? I’ll put the T.V. on once he’s awake, yeah?”

“Is Bucky okay?”

“Do you remember how nervous you were to go back to the beach after the tsunami? I think he’s going through the same thing right now, but he’ll be just fine. You know why?”

“Because he has us?”

“Because he has us.” Eddie smiles softly.

Once he gets Chris set up on the couch, he quietly walks over to where Buck is still drooling onto the island. He can’t stop the snort that escapes him. He reaches over to his shoulder and shakes gently, realizing how deep in sleep he is when that doesn’t wake up. He shakes his shoulder a little harder.

“Buck, hey, honey… wake up.”

That does the trick. Buck bolts upright too fast, falling completely off of the island stool and just misses completely hitting the floor when Eddie catches him with two arms.

Buck’s eyes widen at the sight of Eddie. “Eddie? Shit, what time is it?”

“Hey, it’s okay! It’s just passed twelve.”

“Shit, Eds, we’re late! I’m so sorry, dude. Give me-”

Eddie stops him from frantically running to get ready by tightening his grip on Buck’s shoulders. “Slow your roll, babe. I think we should talk first.”

He feels Buck’s entire body tense at those words. “Talk about what?”

Eddie ducks down to get Buck to meet his eyes, smiling softly when he does to hopefully ease whatever spiraling thoughts going through his head. “Have you been anywhere near the beach since the tsunami?”

Buck looked unsettled, almost embarrassed as he closed his eyes and shook his head.

Eddie sucks in a breath. “Buck, it’s been over a year…”

“I know, I know, I’m pathetic. It’s just-”

“You’re not pathetic, babe. After what you went through out there, no one could ever blame you for not wanting to go. Clearly this whole day out has you on edge if your searches have anything to say, so why did you say yes?”

“I can’t avoid it forever, Eds.” Eddie’s heart cracks along with Buck’s voice.

“No, you can’t. But you have me, Buck, you didn’t have to deal with all of this anxiety alone…”

“I just… hate that I’m a grown man that cowers at even the thought of going near open water. This is something that I should just be able to do without someone holding my hand.” He swallows. “I said yes because I thought I would be ready. I guess there really is no ready, though, is there? I’m always just going to be like this.”

Eddie frowns. “Trauma knows no age, you know that. You went through a trauma and being scared does not make you less of an adult, doesn’t make you a coward. Let me tell you this. I wasn’t ready in any way, shape, or form to be a dad when Christopher was born, but the second I got over the initial terror that I’d fuck it all up, being that wonderful kid’s dad in end of that fear was pretty damn rewarding. So, what I’m trying to say is, we don’t have to go, we can just sit here the whole day and play video games and stuff our faces. But, really the only way to conquer a fear is to face it, right? I’ll be right by your side the entire time, we only have to go as far as you can make yourself.”

“And I’ll be there!” Christopher shouts from the couch and Buck’s face lights up as his eyes fill with new tears.

“Superman!”

Eddie can’t stop the enormous grin that comes from the sight of his son and his boyfriend meeting for a hug in the middle for a room. Buck is kneeling down to Christopher’s height and has his arms tightly wrapped around him.

“I was scared the first time at the beach too, but I was okay because I had my dad. You’ll have both of us, Bucky. It’s going to be okay, kid.” Eddie watches through his own tears as Buck’s shoulders shake with sobs.

“You’re such a good kid, buddy, you know that?” Buck is gleaming and though filled with tears, his eyes are full of love.

“Please don’t leave my side,” Buck’s plea is desperate but Eddie wants to laugh.

“Never.”

Buck never stops shaking the entire drive to the beach.

“A tsunami can travel at 500 miles an hour, a wall of water can travel at you full force until it hits.” He’s whispering so he can’t scare Christopher but it does nothing to help himself.

“Buck…”

“If a large magnitude earthquake hit Alaska, it could trigger a tsunami in California. An earthquake can happen 2,000 miles away and cause 700 million dollars worth of property damage, not to mention the death toll that would cause.”

Eddie tries to stop him another time, but only gets cut off by another fact about tsunamis.

“A smaller tsunami could be triggered by an offshore earthquake and we’d only have ten minutes to evacuate and that’s if we even knew we had to evacuate-”

“Evan, stop. You’re only freaking yourself out more, okay? It’s going to be okay whatever happens. I’m by your side, I have you, baby.”

Eddie feels like he’s in Heaven just watching Buck blush and look down at the pet name, but then the tiny smile drops and he looks away.

He’s quiet after that but Eddie can feel the car vibrate even after it’s turned off with the force of Buck’s shaking. “You ready?”

Buck’s eyes squeeze shut the second his eyes see the ocean. “As I’ll ever be.”

The grip Buck has on Eddie’s hand is bordering too tight but he’s walking on the sand and towards where everyone was set up, closer to the water, and he finds himself emotional that Buck has gotten this far.

“Just keep swimming, Bucky.” Christopher cheers on from next to Eddie. “Just like Dory.”

He’s almost certain he hears a whimper from Buck at the expression.

“Just like Dory.” Buck repeats.

The second they reach everyone, Buck spins to face Eddie and quickly pulls him into arms, seeking comfort. He wastes no time in returning the hug, cradles the back of Buck’s head in his hand and uses the other to rub his back.

“You made it, babe. You did so fucking good, I’m so proud of you.”

He knows their family is watching, he hears Maddie distantly explain that this is the first time he’s stepped foot on a beach in a year and a half. His only focus is telling his boyfriend how damned proud he is.

“I love you,” is muffled by Eddie’s shirt but he doesn’t need it to be comprehensible because he feels it loud and clear.

“Forever.”

The next time he really thinks of Buck’s obscure knowledge and his coping mechanism, it really comes in handy.

Eddie felt as though he was vibrating out of his own skin the entire shift. His hands were shaking by the time he finally got home. He finds Christopher asleep in Buck’s arms on the couch. The sight of his favorite people lessens the tightness in his chest in the slightest.

“Hey, how was work?” Buck whispers when he lays his eyes on him.

“Nothing too crazy happened, so I guess good.” He shrugs. “Thanks for watching him today, seriously.”

“You okay?” Buck shoots him a look when Eddie goes to lie. “Eds, your hands are shaking. What’s wrong?”

Eddie sighs. “I just feel… weird.”

“Let me get him to bed seeing as we both fell asleep here and then we can talk, okay? Sit down, take a breath.”

He tears up at the sight of Buck carrying Christopher to bed. He couldn’t believe he found someone that loved his son like their own and he couldn’t believe that person was Buck. His best friend.

“Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“You seem to be in a good mood,” He tries to get the attention away from himself, even though he knows it’s pointless. After the lawsuit, before they even got together, they both promised to communicate better. They both definitely failed at that far more than they should have, but no one should have expected any less. They were trying, that’s all that mattered.

If they brought a call home with them, they talked it out.

“What can I say, your kid is a ray of sunshine.” He grins. “Nice try though, Eds. You didn’t let me get away with it last week and your shaking is kind of scaring me. Come sit.”

Buck has a way of doing things and saying things that even in Eddie’s worst moods, he still can’t fight his smile. Eddie lazily threw himself onto the couch next to Buck.

“What do you want me to even say? It’s not like I brought a call home with me. Nothing bad happened. I’m just, uh, in a mood.” He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Buck is cupping his face in his hand. The soft concern behind his blue eyes makes more tears build behind his own.

“Come here,” Buck whispers, guiding Eddie’s head down to where it’s laying just above his heart. “Anxiety?”

He doesn’t know why that word draws a reaction as strong as sobbing but Buck pointing out it’s not just a weird mood has him breathless and emotional.

Buck tightens his arms around him. “Hey, take a deep breath with me alright?”

He nods and takes in a breath just after Buck and to know that he can breathe is enough to calm some of his bubbling anxiety.

“You hear my heartbeat?” Buck is so unbelievably good at taking care of him when he feels this way. God, how did he get so lucky?

When Eddie nods he feels Buck’s chest rise just a little with quiet laughter. “Did you know you can hear a blue whale’s heartbeat from two miles away?”

Eddie laughs wetly. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah! And even though they’re the biggest animal that’s ever lived on Earth, blue whales feed on krill, they’re like tiny shrimp. They can eat up to 36,000 kilograms of krill a day. Lucky animals.”

This statement has a laugh erupting from him without time to muffle it, a smile spread from ear to ear as he looks up at his boyfriend.

“There he is!” He smiles down at him before he pecks his lips. “Anyone ever told you how dazzling your smile is, Diaz?”

“Dazzling?” He snorts.

“It’s one of the many words I would use to describe your smile. Dazzling, shiny, gleaming, beautiful, life ruining, you know.”

The anxiety is slowly leaving his body and it’s filling with love and warmth in its place. He snuggles closer in Buck’s arms and revels in the safety and comfort.

“You know? I never get to be the little spoon. This is nice.”

“Now you know how I feel in your arms.”

“Safe? Happy? Warm?”

Buck lips quiver with emotion. His eyes give away love, peace, light. “Yeah, exactly.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes before Eddie’s curiosity gets the better of him. “Hey, Buck?”

“Mm?”

“Can I ask you something? It’s not a big deal, but my curiosity is getting the better of me.” He continues when Buck hums his response. “The Wikipedia spirals? The random knowledge about blue whales, the evolution of cameras, winning us trivia night at Frisco’s like it’s nothing every week with answers to questions Bobby didn’t even know. You just have a lot of knowledge in that smart brain of yours. Something I adore about you, don’t worry.”

He feels Buck let out a sigh before he snuggles Eddie closer to him, resting his head on top of Eddie’s.

“It’s just a thing, I guess. Random facts always, uh ground me, when you know-”

“I know.” He assures him.

“Yeah. It’s always been something to cope with anxiety, but it’s also just something that I just do. I like to learn, I like to read about things I didn’t know about before. I like learning for the sake of learning, I guess?”

“You’re so smart, you know? Don’t let anyone make you think differently.”

“You’re so much better than I deserve, please let anyone make you think differently.”

“Does anyone include you? Because babe? You’re so much better than I deserve but there’s no time for an argument right now.”

Buck yawns loudly. “Says who?”

“Says your sleep schedule. Close your eyes, use me as a pillow, I don’t care. Go to sleep.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Not like I have a choice here, seeing as you’re holding onto me for dear life, but I’ll always be here when you wake up. Now, and every day in the future, okay? Now sleep.”

Buck snorts and mumbles sleepily, “Love you, Eds.”

Jesus, Eddie really wants to marry him.

“I love you, too, Evan.”

To Hen;

Help me propose to Buck? I need a bunch of Wikipedia knowledge on proposals, marriage, all that good and sappy stuff. I’d ask the Wikipedia king himself, but you know…

From Hen;

WHATYSHDDJKSKJAHDKJDSKFKLK:LDK:K:DKSLDKEIWDJJSKDSKDKSJKDJSJDS

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #buddie fic #soft eddie #my writing #i love eddie diaz #my fics

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the-ultimate-penguin · 3 years

Text

Katabasis || Chapter 4 || The Return || E

Massive trigger warnings exist for this fic and this chapter specifically, and are discussed under the cut where you can find the chapter content.

From the beginning (Explicit)

Claude Frollo/Esmeralda

A/N: I don’t like posting fic onto tumblr, but as I have said before, I’m having computer troubles that has prevented me from posting this directly to my Ao3 account. I will hopefully have access to that account soon, but for now, I must work with what I have.

Please note that there are the following TW: non-con, use of the G-slur and racism consistent with canon.

I hope I haven’t scared you off!

----

Chapter 4

The Return

The first night, she barely slept. Too exhausted to stay awake, but too vigilant to let even the softest rustle not be searched for in the darkness. More than once, jolted awake, Esmeralda had wearily lain, watching as Djali settled yet again for more unburdened rest. “How lucky you are,” she had murmured, before sleep crept upon her. As the new day dawned, Esmeralda had found herself with Djali at her feet, blissfully alone.

After the second night, her head no longer felt heavy, nor did her bones complain as she paced up and down the gallery. She didn’t find her eyelids drooping as she watched the square below.

Readying herself after her third unperturbed night, Esmeralda thankfully noted how the bruises on her wrists had begun to fade. Her pain had diminished enough that she had to think about it to notice the subtle twinges and aches.

Waking from the fourth night’s slumber, Esmeralda had looked around the tiny cell, illuminated by the growing morning rays. The customary basket of food and a jug of fresh water had been placed just on the other side of her threshold.

Quasimodo had seemed to be taking even greater pains than ever before to avoid her notice. For this, she was glad. To see the twisted form or ugly face of the thing that had put her here, to be reminded of his lies and how he had been willing to let her be attacked by the priest - it was something Esmeralda wasn’t sure she could take. And whether the hunchback intuited how despised his appearance would be now, or whether he was too cowardly to face her, Esmeralda was thankful for his absence along with his continued efforts to ensure that she and Djali were at least fed something.

As she broke her fast with a few bites from the portion of bread the bellringer had given, Esmeralda smiled. “How is the hay?” she asked Djali. The goat didn’t look up from the fresh pile of hay she had buried her face in. “That good, then.”

However difficult life in the cathedral was for Esmeralda, she knew that it was even harder for Djali. There was nothing to graze or forage. Hay and scraps of Esmeralda’s meals were barely enough. Whenever she brushed or stroked the goat, Esmeralda could feel the cost of their sanctuary. Djali had grown thin, and her coat was now dull. Esmeralda was glad she couldn’t easily see the toll the weeks of imprisonment and seclusion had taken on herself. Filling Djali’s water bowl, she deliberately avoided glancing at her own reflection.

Just as she had begun to rise, two arms encircled her. Esmeralda screamed as she was lifted upwards. She didn’t hear the shatter of the earthenware against the stones, but she felt the splash of water over her bare feet.

A hand covered her mouth, and the grasping arms tightened around her, pressing her back against him. “Please,” whispered the priest. His breath was hot against her neck.

Esmeralda shook, seeking the slight give that would break the vise. But, the more she struggled in his arms, fighting against his hold, the faster his breathing became. Through her dress, she could feel against the small of her back the heat of his sinister purpose. With every move she made, she felt it growing stronger. He gave out a moan, muting it with her bare shoulder.

Against every instinct, Esmeralda froze. Thrashing about in the priest’s cruel embrace served only him. Her heart pounded, drowning out the increasingly urgent sounds escaping from him. Undaunted by her sudden stillness, he began to grind himself against her.

She saw no other means of escape. She grasped the flesh of his palm between her teeth and clenched her jaw tightly. She didn’t release his skin until she tasted metal.

He yelped and pulled away.

Esmeralda spun and spat in the priest’s alarmed face. She could see flecks of blood in the glinting spittle.

The priest muttered something in a language Esmeralda did not know, glancing from his bloody palm to her.

She sucked up her remaining saliva, ready to spit again, but furiously the priest covered her mouth with his lips. He wrapped himself around her once more, one hand roving down her chest.

“Take all you will,” he panted as he broke from the kiss. “My blood, my body.” His hand cupped her breast. “After my soul, what does anything else matter?” He took his hand away, and Esmeralda saw with horror the red smears over her left breast. “I give you everything.”

“Give me peace,” she parried. “Stay away from me.”

“You don’t understand how much these past few days have pained me. Not merely bodily. How hard it was to stay away, but I-”

“Leave me be or I will crack your head again.” She knew exactly where she had left the rock, she knew it would only take a few steps around the priest before she would have it in her grasp. In the daylight, she could see the yellow and green around the crusted wound. She would strike there with all her force. She would hit it again and again until she was sure that he would never touch her again. It was the only way she would ever be free of him again.

The priest sighed. “Do it, and I promise that you will beg for the quickness of the noose.”

It wasn’t a threat. Sincerity stared piercingly back at her as she searched his face for a sign of doubt. The fierceness of his certainty sent a shiver down Esmeralda’s spine. The terrifying devices in the prison seemed to pass before her, each more horrible than the next. The damp cold of the underground cell chilled her despite the summer heat. Desperately focusing on the block of sunlight that stretched across the cell, Esmeralda swallowed back the rising sick.

If she did kill him or wound him fatally, they would know who to blame. Even if she were somehow to muster the strength to throw his body down from the tower, it would only be a matter of time before everyone came for her. Escape would be nearly impossible. Quasimodo certainly couldn’t be counted on to help. He had chosen the priest over her before, and Esmeralda was no longer able to hope that he would protect her ever again.

“So hit me,” the priest continued. “Spit at me, strike me. Do what you will. I care not. It’s nothing compared to all that I have suffered these long months.” Trembling he kissed her temple, a mirror to the blow she had given him. “And everything pales to what I know awaits me.” He gave a long sigh. “But the cruelty of man is vast, and should they find my body, you will very quickly see the depths of manufactured Hell.” He kissed her once again before pulling away to add, “Have mercy. Let us have a shred of kindness together.” He began to push, steering her towards the bed, his hand wrapped around her wrist.

Even if she couldn’t end him and forever stop his pursuit, Esmeralda was not ready to submit. Even if all that she had cherished and all her dreams had been stolen from her, she would not surrender. She had been raised to be stronger than that. With all the courage left in her body, she said, “Never.”

A jarring yank sent Esmeralda tumbling to the floor. She reached out a hand to stop her fall and landed hard upon the mattress. The priest was already on his knees above her, pinning her down by the time she found air enough to say, “I hate you.”

Between bruising kisses, the priest managed, “I love you.” Still pelting her face and neck with his lips, he began to draw her skirt up to her waist.

As his hand wandered down to explore her exposed skin, shame burned red and hot across her face. His fingertips might as well have been claws, ripping her flesh as they ran across her abdomen and over her thighs. His breath now heaved his chest, and his eyes flickered up and down, as if trying to consume every part of her he had stripped bare.

Clumsily, Esmeralda reached down to try to cover herself, but he batted her hands away. “Please don’t,” she whispered. Despite his weight on her legs, she tried to buck and kick. Her fists struck his chest and face as he leaned over to kiss her once more. She could feel his shuddering moan in her mouth. She screwed her eyes shut, her last defense.

She nearly jumped as the fabric of his cassock was lifted away, brought up to his hips. His naked thighs parted her legs, and he let the skirt drape back down to cover them together.

He was prodding her. An awkward jab at the top of her inner leg. A misaimed thrust that landed him against her belly. It was hot and swollen. He seared as he rammed inside her, and her breath escaped in agonized cry. Like the cleaving thwack of an axe against wood, his splitting suddenness roughly cut into her.

Despite the pain, Esmeralda tried not to let her breathing quicken in panic, least he think that the hitch in her breath and frantic gasps were caused by his next thrust forward. He was going too deep. She was sure he would rip out on the other side, still plunging on into stone, oblivious as he quivered on top of her.

As he slid out, Esmeralda heard him moan deeply. Her body was screaming. Perhaps she was as well. His next attack robbed her of any sense but pain. He was shaking against her, groaning and muttering. Only one word she was able to discern -

“Esmeralda.”

He seemed to twitch and jerk as he pulled back before jaggedly returning, uttering a raw cry. His muscles tensed as he held himself fast against her. Finally, his breath slowed, and his body relaxed. She could feel the sweat on his face as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, collapsing on top of her.

“Are you going to cry this time?” she snapped, pushing him off.

“What?” It stung as the priest slipped out, trailing a sticky wetness in its wake. Slowly, he rolled onto his side and began to dab at the milky drops with the hem of her skirt.

Esmeralda’s nose wrinkled in disgust, and she tugged her dress out of his languid grasp. “Are you,” she said, punctuating every word, “going to cry?” She sat upright and smoothed her clothing out.

Sleepily the priest blinked. “That was a one time thing.” He took the blanket in hand and started to dry himself.

Esmeralda could only stare. After everything he had inflicted on her and how he had deprived her of her modesty, she felt no inclination to afford him any privacy. Soft and much reduced, it was hard to accept that it was the same instrument that had provided so much torture. But, she knew little of such matters. Compelled to know what Phoebus had under his hose, she had spied one or twice on her husband during their weeks together. Other than Pierre, she had seen no other man’s nakedness before. This, however, wasn’t entirely trivial, but it was still an ugly worm.

More interesting to her, however, were the dark curls nestled there. No shock of white or trace of grey - so unlike what remained on his head. An old man, she had thought, would be just as grey on bottom as he was on top, just as it was for the aging women she had seen bathing. He couldn’t be, she realized, nearly as old as a quick glance suggested.

It was then that she realized with alarm that the worm had grown. Not quite a serpent, but enough to menace. She swallowed and glanced over to the priest’s face, meeting his gaze. He had been watching her as she stared at him. “You’re despicable,” she muttered, averting her eyes. “Deplorable.” She got to her feet and scanned the cell. Djali was nowhere to be seen. Wherever the goat had wandered off to, Esmeralda was sure it was safer than here.

Still smirking, Claude leaned against the wall. She had found him fascinating. How else could such intense regard be explained? His eyes followed her as she crossed the cell. As she bent down before the shattered jug, he sucked in his breath, already imagining taking her once more.

One by one, she picked up the pieces of clay, only a sliver of her profile visible to him. A broken jug. “How could I forget!” he exclaimed as the specifics of Pierre’s marriage in the Court of Miracles returned to him. The poet had been married to Esmeralda through means of a broken crock. His face flushed as the significance seized him.

Startled, the girl turned to gape at him.

“How many pieces?” Claude asked breathlessly. She had dropped the jug when he had embraced her, and then he had had her. Hardly sanctified, it wasn’t proper, but if canon law could accept a clandestine marriage as valid, then - Claude could feel the weight of at least one sin leave. However many other sins this gypsy marriage created to join his innumerable crimes, for the first time that he had taken the key to the red door, Claude felt his conscience was clear.

“What?”

Exasperatedly, “How many pieces?” Claude repeated. “The jug.” He gestured to the floor. “How many?”

Bemused, the girl shook her head, but still she cast a glance around, mouth wordlessly moving as she counted. “At least twenty,” she said flatly and returned to gathering the remains.

“We’ll be married at least twenty years then,” concluded Claude.

“That’s-” stammered the girl. “How?”

Unperturbed by the feigned confusion, Claude waved his hand dismissively. He could understand why she would take every advantage she could, counting on his ignorance of the customs of her people. “No need to lie,” he said. “I know that’s how you Gypsies get married. A broken jug that states how long you will be married. We have broken a jug, so we are husband and wife for at least twenty years.”

A strange expression crossed her scowling face before she let out a laugh. Bright. Pure. She was laughing at him! Indignant, Claude began to rise.

Finally, she managed, “You’re mistaken, Father.” She shook her head, the smile fading from her as she turned to him.

“And why is that?” he snarled, her momentary mirth still ringing in his ears.

“To be married requires agreement - between families, between husband and wife. Without it there is nothing.” Fire flashed behind her dark eyes. “I am not your wife. I will never be yours.”

“Then why the jug!” spluttered Claude.

Esmeralda shrugged. “There are many people who come to the Court of Miracles. More than just mine. I don’t know why a marriage is announced with breaking something here, but it’s nothing more than a…”

“Symbol,” Claude provided with a sigh. He should have known that his former student couldn’t be trusted to accurately recount or explain all that he had seen. Ever since he had met the aspiring poet, Pierre had been more partial to invention than recitation. Claude pressed his fingers between his brows.

It had been pointless to hope for something that could ameliorate his perdition. As long as he was still a priest, it was a violation of all that he had vowed. Moreover, she was a heathen. Their union could never be holy.

Drained of the frenzied relief, Claude sighed.

There was no redemption for this transgression. And now he was even more damned than he had been before. He had stained his soul once again with such vile licentiousness, and despite the punishment he would suffer, he still had every intention of repeating his sin. Contrition was impossible while she still lived. Perhaps even now that he had experienced the exquisiteness of carnal knowledge, his whole existence was doomed to be consumed by this need. What had driven him to mastery of so many passions, Claude could now see, was what Fate had designed to condemn him.

Clattering clay pieces dropped upon his lap, pulling him out of his reverie. He looked up at her scornful expression.

“Count them if you wish, Father,” Esmeralda said.

The title following such sacrilegious thoughts brought clenching unease to the priest. “Claude.” He took her hands in his, holding fast even though she made no attempt to slip away. How foolish he felt realizing that never once in any of their prior encounters had he offered his name. There had always been so many other matters to attend to that it had simply been determined unnecessary, unimportant. “My name is Dom Claude Frollo.”

Dark eyes bore into his.

“Claude,” he repeated, wishing to hear her finally add words to her siren’s call. A thrill passed through him as he imagined just how sweet it would sound to have her cry out his name as he was inside her.

He would do it. He would make her say it. His body begged to have her again. It would not wait.

It took very little effort to bring her to her knees, on the bed once more. Claude brushed away the fragments of the jug. Though already aching with desire, he gave himself a long stroke. Unlike the paltry pulls he had resorted to during the past few days while his head pounded and stomach spun after slight exertion, there was the promise of wrapping himself around Esmeralda and entering her warmth.

As he kissed her, he felt words spoken against his lips. “What?” he gasped.

“What does it mean?” Her tone cut with annoyance.

Claude gulped for air, wishing she would just make sense for once.

“Your name.”

He squinted at her. “Of all the things… what…” Claudius cum claudio. He could feel his face flush as he imagined actually saying the word ‘lame’ to the girl. “Never you mind.” She no doubt had a devious purpose. Hadn’t the goat learned to spell that captain’s name?

“I will only ever love the man who is named for-”

“Will you never cease this madness!” Claude let go of her. “Why do you torture us with talk of that captain?”

“He is-”

“A drunk who seduces and whores and has no doubt already found someone else to ruin,” Claude interjected. “He will never be worth your devotion, and the more you insist on saying his name, the more you debase yourself.” He got to his feet. “You do not see him for what he is. You see only fancy trappings-” as he spoke, he began to pace, “- a shiny sword you would kiss, someone who thinks he’s Adonis. And he doesn’t even see you unless you’re willing to offer him what I have fought so hard for.”

Though he wanted to stop and hold her so she would no longer wince and flinch from his words, he couldn’t contain himself. He could think of no other way to make her understand than to scold and lecture.

“If he feels anything for you,” Claude continued, “it’s hate and fear. You tried to kill him, and it drove him away-”

“You tried to kill him!” snapped Esmeralda.

“He doesn’t know that! He thinks you stabbed him, and what has he done? He’s stayed away, far away. He didn’t go to your trial. He was ready to watch as you died accused of killing him. He’s a coward, and he does not want you. But me,” he put his hands over his heart, feeling it thunder underneath his ribs, “I have come back. You tried to kill me, and still would, yet here I am!”

“I would,” she hissed, “but we’ve established why I can’t.”

“Surely you can see that I love you. I love you in a way he never could, and I would-”

“If you love me so much, prove it by throwing yourself off the tower.”

Wraith boiling over, Claude scrambled to find a proper response, but before he could fashion one together, he felt something ramming into his side. Though it did not bring him to his knees, the blunt force left him gasping. “What the-” he muttered as he looked down to see the furious goat, head lowered, poised to strike again. “Devilish beast!” He took a step forward, but already the girl was wrapping her arms around the goat, murmuring praise and kissing her.

Esmeralda held the goat to her chest, a demonic shield with yellow eyes that seemed to gnash its teeth, daring Claude to approach once more. Did he see Hellfire flickering there? There was undoubtedly something infernal that had summoned the creature to the cell and prompted it to attack.

Shuddering, he backed away until he was at the door. “Perhaps I’ll throw that thing from the tower instead.” Claude could feel the scorching hate follow him all the way down to the cloister.

He slammed his chamber door and hurried to the window, already trying to soothe the dissatisfied agony between his legs. Supporting himself with his forearm against the wall, Claude frantically moved his fist, cursing that he had to fall back to this. Pathetic. Lame. His arm was tiring from pumping and still she hid out of sight, as if she knew how much suffering she was inflicting still.

Biting his arm, he silenced his moans as the hot flood of relief spilled over his hand. He rested his head against the stone wall. “Esmeralda,” he whispered. He let his cassock fall back over his legs and sought his washcloth. He had only managed to wipe the remnants of his seed off of his hand when a knock intruded on his silence.

“Monsieur Archdeacon?” It was the nervous voice of the beadle.

If he stayed silent, perhaps he would be left alone again.

“You should know, but… word reached the Bishop that you are well again-”

Claude clenched his teeth.

“- and he’s on his way here.”

Resisting the urge to shout about damning the Bishop, Claude opened the door. “Thank you for the notice, Charles,” he said, his face a mask of placid duty. “I will be sure to greet him when he arrives.” Not waiting for the beadle to respond, Claude brushed past him, already weary with the day.

~~~

A/N: Wow! Congrats on getting to the end of this beast of a chapter.

I’ve interpreted the jug breaking in the book as being something that’s a result of so many cultures being in the Court of Miracles that the Jewish tradition of breaking a glass to celebrate a marriage wound up as just a part of how things are done in the Court of Miracles. Since actual Romani marriages are pretty diverse in tradition, I can’t say for sure that no jugs were ever broken, but to my knowledge, it’s not done. Of the Romani marriage traditions I know - from jumping over a broom, to the bride changing dresses as she’s accepted into the groom’s family, to giving jewelry, or just plain old having a regular Church service - I have heard nothing that resembles what Hugo wrote.

I apologize if there are any formatting errors or other issues. (Let me know!)

Please let me know if you liked this chapter with ‘likes’ and reblogs. I always love hearing what people think, and it really makes my day!

Thank you! And Happy Halloween!!!!

#claude frollo #esmeralda #hond #fresme #nddp fanfic #non con trigger warning #racism trigger warning #trigger warnings in general

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angellbarnes · 4 years

Text

Kinda Like Fate

Summary: Your greatest loss has taken its toll on you

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader || Pirate!au

Word count: 2k

Warnings: None? Mentions of fighting, injuries and blood

A/N: This is my first original post on Tumblr. Thought this challenge would be a good way to start writing on here, so thanks to @wxntersoldiers for letting me take part in your 6k au challenge and congrats! Hope you like it 🤍 (italics are flashbacks)

A burning sensation travels down your throat as you set the bottle of rum back down in your lap. You like it, though, because it takes away from the pain drumming in your heart. It’s a pain like nothing you’ve ever felt before, like someone ripped away a piece of you and you’ll never get it back. Heartbreak.

You take another large swig and swing down the rope attached to the mast you were sat on. You land with a thud back on deck and watch as your crew are busy on the ship.

“Banner? What the hell do you call that? Put some back into it!” You yell angrily at your crew member. He cowers and avoids your glare as he mumbles an ‘aye, captain’ and gets back to work. Harder.

It’s safe to say that Bucky’s death caused you to become a little less than friendly.

Your whole crew is, quite frankly, terrified of you. One wrong move and that’ll be it for them. You’ve turned your pain into anger, taking it out on everyone else. Your quartermaster, Sam, is one of the only people who can be around you for a long period of time now, without you threatening him.

As you trudge back towards the wheel, you can hear footsteps hot on your heel.

“What do you want?” You ask blankly.

“You know, there’s no need to take your hurt out on everyone else. We know you’re in a lot of pain right now, and we all lost him, remember? Just talk to us.” Sam’s voice echoes through your mind and you take a deep breath. You reach the wheel and lean on it with one hand, taking another sip from the bottle.

“Just leave me, Wilson. I lost a captain, is all. If all you’re going to do is try and play therapist with me, you can go and swim with the sharks, savvy?” You snarl. “You’re better off talking to them anyway.” You mumble and he slowly turns and leaves. You let out a sigh as you cast your gaze to the glistening open waters.

Silently, you tiptoe along the wooden deck of another random ship you’ve found. You head below deck, searching for anything that looks of any value to you. You grin proudly as you lay your eyes on a sword, but not just any sword, it’s golden detailing with a ruby engraved at the end of the handle proves its worth. Hurriedly, you return it to its scabbard and make your way back up. Just as you reach the deck, a tall figure emerges in front of you.

“Now where do you think you’re going, doll?” The man starts walking towards you and you take out your regular sword, making the stranger chuckle deeply.

“I don’t want any trouble. Now, if you’ll excuse me-” You step beside him to leave but he’s quick to bring his sword out across your neck, preventing you from going any further.

“Hold on there, sweetheart, I think you have something that belongs to me.” He whips you around, pushing you against the mast, still with his sword against your neck. In the moonlight, you are still able to make out his features: dark hair that ended just at his shoulders, a sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes, evident even at night. A strong, muscular body and... a metal arm? The reflective surface of his hand and forearm are revealed from his shirt being rolled up to his elbow. The top buttons of his shirt are undone, making the scarring at his shoulder just visible.

“Now I’ve heard of Captain Hook, but this is something entirely different.” You state as you eye his left arm. He chuckles and looks you up and down, as if analysing you.

“Name’s Bucky. Though I go by Captain on this ship. Didn’t catch your name, love.” He leans in a little closer. You couldn’t lie that his presence was somewhat endearing.

“Seems not, love.” You mock with a smirk. You push his blade away with yours and spin so you’ve now got Bucky pinned as you were before.

“How would you like to join my crew, doll?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I just stole from you and now you want me on your ship?” You question with somewhat amusement and disbelief.

“You seem like someone I’d rather have on my side, darlin’.” He grins. You contemplate for a second, knowing a crew and a ship is exactly what you’ve been looking for for a while.

“If you want me on your side, you better quit it with the nicknames, princess.” You scoff.

“Better tell me your name, then, princess. Huh, I like that one.” You roll your eyes at him while a small smile tugs at your lips. You part your sword from his neck and hold out your hand, which he takes.

“Y/n.”

When your mind returns back to earth you notice the tears that have begun forming in your eyes, threatening to fall. You blink them back and take some deep breaths, yet again settling for the burning rum as a pain substitute.

The first time meeting Bucky wasn’t a normal encounter, to say the least, but the two of you had a connection, this connection that you couldn’t really describe. You were like Yin and Yang; you balanced each other out and were inseparable, really. You became co-captain of The Avenger shortly after and thus your romance began and, for the first time in a long time, you were happy.

That was until a week ago.

You were down to the last few pirates. You could see their ship now sinking beside yours and a smirk grew on your face as you turned back to the man in front of you. The sounds of metal clashing echoed around the ship and with one final swing, your enemy collapsed to the ground, with a deep crimson seeping from his chest. You grin as you see the others winning their fights, focussing your attention to Bucky on the opposite side of the ship.

He was battling the captain of the rival ship and it was intense to say the least. You started to head over to help when a blood curdling shriek escaped your lips. Your hands covered your mouth as your sword clattered on the ground. The opposing captain had Bucky at the end of his sword like a skewer, a smug grin plastered on his arrogant face. Blood was seeping from Bucky’s stomach now, staining his shirt. You were frozen in place and with a small nudge, Bucky fell free from the sword’s grip and was swallowed into the depths of the sea.

His eyes never left yours as he fell.

As tears now fell freely from your eyes, anger rose from the depths of your being. You brought out your pistol, aimed it at the pirate’s head and shot. He landed back with a thud. You collapsed to your knees feeling empty. Although everyone from the other vessel was dead, this was not a battle you’d won.

The second time you’re pulled from your thoughts you have to wipe a few tears that had escaped, hearing the yelling of your crew. You now notice the ship that is fast approaching, no more that 20 feet away. It’s not huge but it’s not small, there can’t be a large crew on board.

“Should we prepare to fight, Captain?”

“Wait, Danvers, let’s see what they want. Tell Stark and Barton to get the canons ready but don’t fire unless I say so.” You order, eyes still fixed on the oncoming vessel.

“Aye, Captain.”

As the ship settles beside yours you try to see who’s on board. A blonde man is only visible and you narrow your eyes in wariness. He strays from his ship and uses a rope to jump to yours. As he lands you draw your sword and he raises his hands in defence. With the point of your sword you silently lead him to the middle of the deck and instruct your crew to tie him to the mast, which they do, and you lower the blade, stepping towards him.

“And you are?” You ask sternly.

“My name is Steve. I don’t want any harm. I just need some supplies for my ship. Some water, food, anything you have to spare.” He replies with confidence, yet there was shyness laced in his tone. Your brows furrow as the name reminds you of someone.

You sit on Bucky’s lap, straddling his waist as you play with his hair. He has his arms wrapped around your waist and a content smile painted on his face.

“What was your life like, before all of this?” You speak up, looking deep into his mesmerising eyes.

“Before I found my ship and crew?” You nod. He takes a deep breath and holds you a bit tighter.

“Well, when I was younger, the pirate life always excited me. I used to have this little wooden sword that me and my friend Steve would play with. He had his own and we’d have sword fights on the docks.” He chuckles at the memory. “We had each other our whole lives, until one day when we were older and got parted. I started this life and god knows where he is now. Who knows, maybe I’ll see him again one day.” He lets out a small sigh as he looks back up to you.

“Sounds like you two were pretty close.” You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Yeah, thick as thieves. But then I found you, doll. It kinda feels like fate, me and you.” A smile forms on your lips as you bite down on the bottom one.

“Fate, huh?”

“Mhm.” He leans in to press his lips on yours.

You shake your head to try and rid it of your wandering thoughts.

“I won’t have anyone stealing from my ship.” You snap.

“Not stealing, ma’am, just need some help.” He pleads. At this moment anger and grief and almost every kind of detrimental emotion is bubbling inside of you. You take no pity on this man as you lift your sword above your head.

“Then let me help you.” Your blade comes swooping down and Steve squeezes his eyes tightly shut.

“Y/n! Wait! Stop!” A voice causes your motion to halt suddenly. Your eyes widen and your heart feels like it’s pounding a hundred beats per second, almost beating out of your chest. You sword falls at your side and you turn slowly to face the voice.

Your breath hitches as you stare wide eyed at a ghost. A very real looking ghost who comes striding towards you. Your breathless. Speechless. Only one, breathy word escapes your dry lips.

“Buck.”

You run. You run towards the lost love of your life as a grin spreads across his face. You jump into his arms as they encircle your waist and yours his neck. Tears prick at your ears as a sobbed laugh flees your throat. Your hand moves to caress his cheek just to make sure he’s definitely there.

“I missed you, doll.” He whispers with teary eyes.

You lean down finally to capture his lips with yours. The kiss is full of passion and desire, sadness and hope. Something you never thought you would be able to experience again.

Once the kiss was finally broken he sets you down in front of him, not daring to let go of you, though.

“What happened? You... you died.” He wipes a few tears from your cheeks before answering.

“I remember falling, looking at you before falling into the water. Next thing I know I’m on a ship. Turns out it was Steve’s, you know, the punk I told you about. Though I never thought this is how you two would meet.” You both chuckle and you mumble an ‘oops’. “Anyway, he found me washed up on this little island and managed to stitch me up and stuff and now here I am. All he told me was that he’d seen a ship and he was going to talk to the people on it. When I came back up to deck I noticed it was this ship. Our ship. Now I’ve got him back and you.” He smiles, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Kinda like fate, right?” You murmur and he chuckles softly.

“Kinda like fate.”

#wxntersoldiers6kAUchallenge #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fic #marvel fic

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murdersexual · 3 years

Note

So about that part II to that LeoPika fic? 👀👀👀

WTF, BOI THIS IS TRASH! Stop torturing me, my writing is t r a s h.

🚨Warning!🚨

-Rated MA.

-Sex, Drugs, Alcohol, Gambling and Gun Violence.

-NOT PROOFREAD! (Like I write shit on a tired 3am brain...)

-NICKNAMES: Koi Fish/Fishie/Fishy: Leorio. Smol Ram or whatever else I used: Kurapika.

-Sorry for any potential OOC bullshit- 🤣🤣🤣

-Sorry but not sorry for Melody- 👀😤🤣

Part II: The Whims of Fate:

Melody didn’t know how to feel, her eyes grew to the size of saucers as she saw how fast Leorio was moving. She backed away, now hanging her phone up, she tries to make her escape via the glass door elevator. Her tiny chubby hand desperately clicks onto the up button. Her own heart played a melody of guilt and fear. But that’s what you get when you snitch.

‘I-I gotta get outta here!’

“MELODY!”

The way Leorio’s voice projected echoed across the entirety of the sixth floor. Hearing him yell like that shook her to her core in more than just one way. She drew a shaky breath and her eyes flicker to the angry hazel eyed hunter and back to the elevator that seems to be moving in slow motion.

“Come on... C-Come on!”

Impatience coats her voice as she now stands directly in front of the door.

“I KNOW YOU HEAR ME!! HOW CAN’T YOU?!”

His voice boomed once more, his soft hair now waving over one of his eyes only for him to use his left hand to push it out of the way. Now he’s even more pissed... Why?

Because she ruined his ‘SURPRISE MOTHAFUCKAH’—in other words, his grand entrance.

Yet because she absolutely is f o n d of Kurapika, she’d do anything to protect him. How adorable. Maybe there’s something else that lingers in her actions...

“Why are you here, Leorio?!”

Finally, she projects her voice even though that nervousness is still present. Just as she asks that, Leorio steps in front of her. The elevator clicks open and he takes her by her collar and shoves her into it.

“WHY?!”

Obviously, she avoided the question. He KNEW she knew why he was there otherwise she would’ve given him a friendly greeting and not snitch. Her onyx orbs bore into his icy gaze. She could hear the anger emitting from his heart and she ended up closing her ears and shutting her eyes.

“Be-Because you shouldn’t be here!”

Her answer made him wonder... Yet, he didn’t release her collar. His hold can be compared to that of a death grip.

“Urgh! That ain’t tellin’ me shit! I oughta throw your ass in the fucking fountain for snitching!”

Leorio’s hands are rated E for Everybody. Meaning he WILL absolutely drop a woman off if necessary.

“I... I-! My lips are sealed! Now unhand me!”

The infamous saying that typically gets passed about when classified information is detailed to anyone that’s within a Mafia. Upon hearing that, he roughly shoves her away, the back of her head slightly bouncing off of the elevator railing.

“Ow...”

A hiss of pain left Melody, a glare is given to him as she now reaches inside her tuxedo jacket for her brand new revolver but she stops just as she places her hand on the handle.

“Do it if you’re bad...”

The entire scenario played in her head had she shot him. Her eyes blinked multiple times—seeing her death being played out in several different perspectives. Lowering her head in defeat, she adjusts her fedora and finally tells him...

“8th floor, Roulette Table number 403.”

Huh, does that number ring a damn bell?

Pressing the fancy gold button with the bold number 8 on it, a scoff emits from the fish as he now stands to the side with his eyes forward. Putting his hands in his pockets and standing coolly, he sighs while tapping his foot impatiently.

“Hmph... Ya could’ve just told me that shit from the beginning and I wouldn’t have to damn near rough you up.”

Staring at her shiny black small heeled Oxford tux shoes, she blinks while taking a second to realise that there’s always an easier way to do things. Why didn’t she play it cool? Could she have lied about this? Did her feelings cloud her judgment?

“And that I could’ve but had the circumstances been different? Then by all means. You really... REALLY shouldn’t be here...”

Nothing annoyed him more than to hear those words without no fucking why to follow. Deep down, he believes she’s probably the only one concerned about the type of trouble he’d get himself in. That or maybe there’s a hint of jealousy?

“I will only say this for the simple fact that your heart reflects impatience and curiosity: It’s for your own good. If you get mixed with any of the other families? Who will be there to save you? Nobody.”

A smirk curves onto his face, now recalling how he’s caused a lot of inconvenience on the second floor all the way up. He softly chuckles, his head dropping for a second. The doors chime and open as they reach the eighth floor. Walking out first and turning to face Melody, he gives a shrug before backing away.

“Who’s to say that I haven’t already stirred the whims of fate~?”

Melody’s breath hitches in her throat, her eyes widening only for her to smirk and watch him with softened eyes.

“You’re dressed like a really handsome Devil tonight, that told me enough, Mr. Leorio~”

Looking over his shoulder briefly, he waves his hand.

“Just call me Leorio! But don’t think I’m gonna forget that you’ve snitched! I’m letting you off easy because I gotta conserve energy for this fucker!”

Momentarily, she found herself chasing after that Angel in Disguise. Shaking her head quickly with a soft blush, she clicks the number six and heads back to her post.

‘I always find myself attracted to those with charisma that’s relative to that of the Devil himself~ I must say, had my looks never been deformed, I’m sure I’d play him a melody that even he would have a hard time forgetting.’

The doors closed and she was gone.

Finding himself standing just before the entrance. His hazel gaze softened as he felt some feminine hands reach up to his shoulders.

“Welcome~ Shall I take your coat sire~?”

Glancing behind him, he sees a ginger bunny babe with the sweetest of smiles. He took out his favourite pocketknife and placed it in his blazer’s inner breast-pocket. He already has his wallet and keys in his pants pocket. Slipping out of his heavy winter coat, he carefully hands it to her.

“Hello there~ And why I thank you. You’re too sweet~”

She winks now sauntering away. His eyes instantly found those well rounded and pale ass cheeks of her’s. He gave a nod of approval while reaching for a cup of vodka topped with cranberry. He sips it and stuffs his freehand in his pocket.

‘Hmm...’

“Where should I start~?”

Mischief rang as he asked himself aloud. Proceeding to walk forward, he sees the blue and violet ambience, the music is A1–fun and enticing. Hell, everything all the way down to the alcohol is excellent. His eyes found the slots and just as he did on the second floor, he walks on over and leans over an older man with salt and pepper hair. He appears concentrated...

“Say, excuse me, fine sir?”

Looking to the tall youngster, he tilts his head while taking out his fancy Cuban cigar.

“What is it, Young Buck?”

With a pleasant smile he gently leans down, taking his hand out of his pocket he points to the slot screen.

“Watch the last two reels... Those move faster than the middle ones... Why do you think it’s so hard to hit the jackpot?”

With a smile, the man nods and daps him up. He adjusts his suspenders and pulls the lever.

“Thank you, son! How can I ever repay ya?”

Shaking his head no, Leorio stands straight and chuckles.

“Oh no, there’s no need, it’s what I love to do, especially as a birthday gift to myself.”

Raising both brows at his benevolence, the old man pulls out a wad of cash and calls over some of the Bunnies.

“Well I’ll be damned! Happy Birthday my boy! Ladies! Treat this young man to the finest of drinks, on me, Don Magnifico!”

Two of the girls hook around each of Leorio’s arms, his eyes instantly finding their perked up breasts, he smiles and looks back at him.

“I won’t forget your kindness, Don Magnifico!”

Don Marcelo Magnifico, age 52, standing at 6’2, still maintaining his muscle, he is one of the many Mafia Leaders who aren’t fond of other families. He’s widely known within the Underground community for his foreign cuisine and weapons import. The man has literally built a ‘Little Italy’ within Yorknew. He sees something within Leorio and he hopes to potentially get to him. Maybe he can find him a spot amongst his ranks?

From the sidelines, there are a familiar set of eyes that’s seen the entire exchange. With a dreaded sigh, the usually lax blondie found himself making tracks to the bar. Was his mind truly prepared to deal with the aggro fish?

Partially...

He gives a few taps to one of the ladies, he whispers for her to take his place momentarily at the Roulette Table. With a nod of confidence, she hopples over to take his place. Now Kurapika’s off to meet Leorio at the bar. Caution bells tolled in his head the closer he came and just as their eyes met?

The cheery and flustered face of Leorio’s instantly darkened. His lips wore that angry pout. He took one of the shots down without never taking his eyes off of him. Nearly stopping for a second, those light grey eyes momentarily averted. He could sense that rage...

“Well, well, well... Look what the cat dragged in...”

That came out so dark...

Sitting beside the angry fish is a quietly sighing Kurapika. He leans into his left hand and uses his right to snag a shot glass only to trace the rim of it.

“So what’s the fucking excuse this time? Huh?”

“There are none...”

Taken back by his honesty, those hazel eyes searched around as he hums for he’s in thought.

“Oh that’s fucking funny because I could’ve sworn you were gonna say that ol’ excuse you always say! I was expecting that shit! Did you purposely fucking forget or what?”

The idea of being chewed out never sat well with Kurapika. Most of the time, his words were hitting him in the side of his head. Finally taking that shot down and turning to face him, he scoots closer to the edge of his seat.

“Well, go on...”

He was setting himself up to actually get hit this time around. Perhaps he genuinely saw how hurt Leorio is. Why not give him what he’s always wanted right?

“I would never forget any special occasions and I would never miss anything important... I’m honestly tired. I’m sick of the lies, I’m sick of being the one trying to hold on, I’m sick of fucking trying to be the good fucking friend... At this point, I think I’m being taken for fucking granted and I ain’t got time. I’m here to tell your punk ass that you wanna do shit alone? You wanna be okay on your own? Fine. Fine. FINE! I’m done caring...”

Hearing these words made Kurapika wonder... Is he saying this out of complete anger? Or does he truly mean it? Either way, guilt was going to eat at him. Before he could combat his words, Leorio shook his head no.

“Save your petty fucking apologies... I don’t want them. I don’t need to put up with this shit. I know it’s gonna sound bad but how the fuck are Gon and Killua better fucking friends and their younger than the both of us? Fucking children. Ya hear me? Both of them called me and told me happy birthday and they’re always checking up on me... And what the fuck are you doing? Pretending that none of us exist! So you might as well lose my fucking number. This is the last time I’m gonna ever see that pathetically sheepish face of yours.”

At the moment, the fact that any of this is being said kept anything from conjuring—thoughts, retorts and anything else. That usually stoic face started to finally falter. One of his fears was this happening but he would never come to say it.

“Oh yeah? Don’t think I won’t pass up the opportunity to knock your ass into next week!”

Cracking his knuckles then drawing back his arm, he quickly cocks it, totally not caring that he may get shot, he will land that punch.

Or so he thought...

His fist was caught! Those ombré nails instantly dug into Leorio’s soft flesh. The slightest of hisses had emitted.

“At first I felt bad, but the fact that you had the absolute audacity to question my loyalty made me retract that privilege. All you do is bitch and I don’t want to hear it. You ask too many questions... Questions that if I answer may or may not put you in danger. So sorry if I’m choosing to be distant but given my position, I don’t particularly have as much free will like you do. Am I making excuses? No, I don’t make any and never will... I hate explaining myself... but because you obviously need a frequent fucking reminder, it can’t be helped.”

Leorio felt his eye twitch. He can’t find himself agitated!

“Let me—!”

Holding a finger up with his free hand, those light grey eyes had a faint red glint. But never did they leave those icy hazel ones.

“No, you’ve had your time to speak. One thing that always irritates me is how you up and assume that I don’t fucking care... When I do! So answer me this...”

Those nails pressed further and further into his skin, he even started to bend that fist of his back. Leorio did his best not to flinch.

“What time is it? Because on my watch I have... 10:21...”

Finally releasing his fist and blinking his gaze closed for a second to recenter himself, he leans back into his left hand before slowly looking to him. Leorio saw the claw marks and he couldn’t believe he was bleeding.

“...Meaning that your birthday isn’t over yet... But since you’re here, there’s no need to text nor call... So... Happy Birthday.”

That icy gaze of his warmed up instantly. He looks away for a second, his eyes appearing to search for the words he wanted to say.

“Ahem... I... One thing I’ve hated about your ass is how you gotta explain shit to me like I’m not detail oriented! But it still sounds like you’re making excuses... I don’t care what you say! Despite you didn’t apologise, you’re still giving yourself a fucking gateway to do the same old goofy shit. Time and time again, you don’t know how frustrating it is... Hence why... I just don’t care anymore. Sure, you’ve given me the words I wanted to hear, but it only takes less than a minute to fucking text. And no, I don’t give a fuck about you’re little ‘position’.”

Downing a shot before sliding over his birthday drink in front of him. Leorio rolls his eyes dismissively, now stirring his straw before sipping it.

“Hell I could be Prime Minister for all I give a fuck and it wouldn’t stop me from checking on my friends... Buuuuuttttt I guess I’m the only one who feels like that huh? Oh correction: ‘who FELT like that’...”

In all honesty, what could Kurapika say? Was Leorio really about to give up?

Recognising his silence, that hazel gaze narrows at him. His lip turns up, a look of unimpression decorates his face. He shakes his head in pity.

“Thought so...”

Facing the still upset fishy, the blondie sees his face and wonders how will he cope without seeing or hearing from him again? Slipping out of his chair, he softly chews on his bottom lip while thinking of something that he could do or say... These kinds of situations aren't his strong suit, obviously.

“Before you leave and never come back, there is something I’d like to show you... It’s not that impressive but hopefully it’ll show you that I don’t turn a blind eye to any of your advances.”

Raising an eyebrow, Leorio saw what he thought he’d never see and that’s...

That he’s genuinely afraid of losing him.

🚨🚨🚨

Okay so that’s it for part II. 😞😞😞 I really such at writing. But it’s an escape for my creativity. Hope you guys find it slightly entertaining! Thanks for reading and remember to stay hydrated and wonderful! 🥰

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years

Text

The Nearness of You [Part Three]

Read Part One Read Part Two

Summary: Bucky Barnes is haunted by a ghost of the past. Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 2970 Warnings: Canon divergence, creative liberties, canon-typical violence, assassination, information that may not be accurate due to the aforementioned creative liberties and a lack of information on Google. A/N: There will be at least one more part to this mini-series! Huge thanks to everyone who has read/liked/reblogged. I have a lot of pride in this piece and I’m happy to be able to share it with all of you!

Years passed. Wars were waged, not only between countries and enemies, but between friends. Within the very inner workings of their own minds, never-ending wars were fought between the men they believed themselves to be and the men life had conditioned them to become.

After Y/N disappeared, Bucky convinced himself that the mission with Steve, the one he had already agreed to be a part of, would bring her back. Not only did she remain out of his reach, but he nearly lost his own life. He wouldn’t know it until years later, but Steve put that huge ship into the ice and was gone, for a while.

An entire lifetime of events had happened since the few kisses Bucky had gotten to share with Y/N. He’d lost an arm. Lost himself. Lost Steve. The latter two had been found again, but Y/N was the one thing that stayed missing. Bucky knew that if she hadn’t died at the hands of Zola, old age would have taken her by now. Ironic, thinking back on it; something he had never much believed in, played such a significant role in his life, but had been a part of him for such a brief moment in time. The impact, though, was lasting.

Sparring with Steve now, for training purposes, Bucky could feel the pull on his soul that her memory often caused. It was as though someone was reaching into his chest and tugging out his very essence. The pull distracted him and gave Steve the upper hand. Next thing Bucky knew, he was on his back with Steve’s cocky smile staring him down.

“Where’s your concentration today, Buck?” Steve asked, slightly breathless and slightly joking. He extended out a hand to help his friend up from the mat.

Bucky accepted the gesture. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. Let’s go again.”

Steve looked unsure, but they hadn’t been training for long. With a shrug of his shoulder, he took up his stance a few feet from Bucky and the sparring began again.

Three more takedowns had taken place — two for Steve, one for Bucky, finally — when the familiar AI voice came over the intercom.

“Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY began, “your presence is requested in the main conference room.”

“Requested by who?” Steve frowned.

“Director Fury.”

There was no questioning that. Grabbing a couple of towels from a shelf by the door, the two men did the best they could to wipe away the sweat worked up from their training exercises before joining Fury and, presumably, the others of the Avengers team, in the conference room.

Only Fury was waiting for them, though, at the head of the table. On the projector screen, news coverage of the Cuban diplomat coming out of the United Nations headquarters. Within a few seconds, the man fell to the ground, his guards converging over him with guns drawn. Around them, visitors and staff and others in the area were running this way and that, trying to find cover. The frame paused there.

“He was declared dead on the scene,” Fury informed them. “Considering the entry wound was roughly the diameter of your pointer finger and the exit would was that of a baseball, we’re assuming a sniper round killed him, but no slug and no casings were found anywhere within a reasonable radius of the assassination.”

Steve snorted. “Did you check outside of a reasonable radius?”

“Not yet,” Fury answered. “Here’s the information we’ve been debriefed on as of now. Unfortunately, even surveillance cameras didn’t catch anything. Following the trajectory of the bullet, they believe they know where the sniper was staged, but besides there being no casing and no bullet, there’s zero evidence — no tracks in the dust, nobody saw anything. Forensics dusted for gunpowder in the area where they believe the sniper shot from. Not a single fingerprint, epithelial cell, nothing.”

Bucky heard it all, but the pictures Fury supplied them with had his attention. He knew a bullet that could do that damage. He knew the disappearing act.

“Someone with a sniper rifle came and went within shooting distance of the front door of the United Nations headquarters and isn’t seen, doesn’t leave a single ounce of evidence? Sure it wasn’t a ghost?” Steve asked, his brow furrowing as he reviewed over the information in front of him.

Fury turned to the other man in the room. “Barnes?”

Steve raised his brow at his friend. “You think Bucky knows something about this?”

“He knows I do,” Bucky answered quietly. “This is Hydra, no doubt. Another Winter Soldier is my bet.”

“I thought Zemo put them all down?”

“So did I.”

Fury crossed his arms over his chest. “So did we all. Intelligence is working on it, digging into the oldest files we have, working to see what we can find. In the meantime, before I set the team on this, I’d like the two of you to check out the scene. The sooner we can figure this out, the better.”

Bucky exchanged a glance with Steve; his friend’s expression read concern. “It’ll be fine. It’s just recon, right?”

Steve pressed his lips into a thin line. “Right. We’ll go now, report back as soon as we can. Maybe keep backup available, in case.”

Fury left them to ready for their mission. Steve looked at Bucky again, standing from his chair.

“Buck, if this is too much, we can get someone else.”

“No, it’s fine,” Bucky assured. “It should be me. I’ll recognize the signs, if they’re there. I’m good.”

Steve didn’t look convinced. Even after a lengthy stay in Wakanda, he knew that the old memories sometimes took a toll on his friend. If Bucky said he was good though, there was nothing for Steve to argue.

Once they were cleaned up and in street clothes, Bucky and Steve went together to the UN headquarters to scout out, well, anything they could find. Intel told them that a building roughly half a mile from the entrance of the building was where the shooter was believed to have set up for the shot.

“The building stopped the bullet,” Steve observed, pointing to a crater in the cement wall, “but who picked it up after all was said and done?”

Bucky tilted his head. “No one on our side, apparently. Fury said there was nothing found.”

“Doesn’t make sense. Made out with a sniper rifle, made out with the slug, right on the crime scene. But no one saw anything.”

“Someone knows how to blend in.” He squinted his eyes and looked closer. “Hey, Steve — you see what I see?”

Steve leaned closer, looking at a piece of material glinting in the afternoon sun. It was buried deep in the cement, almost undetectable.

Shrapnel. Bucky reached a gloved hand into the crate and carefully dug out the piece. Steve provided a small, brown envelope for them to drop the piece into, and they decided from there to find the rooftop from where the shot had been fired.

“So the assassin would have to go into the building — no way up or down on the outside. Unless they climbed. Not much fun, not too easy with the weight of a rifle.” Steve opened the front door of the building, casually milling around the shop to avoid suspicion of any more serious activity.

“If they’re trained, that’s nothing more than busywork,” Bucky commented, following Steve inside.

The two of them walked around the shop for a few minutes, before Bucky saw a staircase at the back of the shop. He managed to get Steve’s attention and nodded toward the staircase. Steve nodded his understanding and struck up a conversation with the shop owner so that Bucky could investigate without being detected.

Too many flights of stairs landed him at a metal door. Through the small window in the door, Bucky could see the vents on top of the roof. As quietly as possible, noting the rusted hinges, Bucky pushed the door open. The air up here was warmer, naturally, but the view was nearly perfect — he could see for miles. The UN building was a faint sight near the horizon, but with the right scope, Bucky figured a shot from here wouldn’t be so difficult.

He walked over the rooftop, his eyes searching out even the tiniest clue — like the sun glinting off that piece of shrapnel — that would tell him if this had been another Winter Soldier or not. Nick had told them forensics couldn’t find a thing, and now he understood why. The whole rooftop had been cleared; only the dust that could have settled in the last hours since the assassination were present. The paint on the building was chipped, the brick of the long-since-used chimney was cracked.

“Everything else is neglected, but all the dirt and dust is swept up. Doesn’t make sense,” he muttered out loud.

If a grappling hook had left marks, it was too difficult to tell them apart from the cracks and chips the years had wrought upon the building. He made a mental note to ask Fury if any air vehicles had been noted in the area; maybe the assassin had been dropped in and picked back up. It was unlikely a helicopter that close would have gone undetected by the employees or customers in the shop, but stranger things had happened. At least it would give them some information.

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and meandered over to the chimney. Not a drop of soot or ash around it, though he remembered the fireplace at his parents’ house back in the day keeping the remnants of a fire until someone cleaned it up. That sort of thing didn’t just disappear. It was only more evidence that someone had cleaned up anything that might be left behind, though, didn’t tell him anything new.

Close to giving up, Bucky checked out the last bit of the rooftop on the other side of the chimney, for good measure. Still not finding anything, he began to wonder if this was even the right place where the shooter had been. Maybe the clean-up had happened as a decoy, something to throw everyone off the trail.

And then he saw it: the one brick out of place in the chimney. The breakaway was clean, too clean. Licking his lips, his brow furrowed with puzzlement, he pushed one end of the brick. The opposite side gave way, allowing Bucky to carefully move the brick out of its spot. In the opening that was left behind, a casing and a sniper slug were waiting.

His heart raced in his chest as he took both pieces, shaking them in his palm once before replacing the brick and putting the pieces in his jacket pocket. He had all he needed now. Well, enough to be of some help, anyway.

Back in the shop, he cleared his throat. “Hey, buddy, you ready to get outta here? I’m starving.”

Steve looked up. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for the tips on bargain shopping, Mrs. Rittmiller.”

They both smiled and waved at the woman before heading out of the shop. Steve waited until they were almost a full block down before he asked.

“You found something?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Bucky replied. “We’ve got to get back to the compound. I’m done looking for today.”

This time, the whole team assembled in the conference room. Bucky sat nervously in his chair. This was going to lead to a fight; it always led to a fight. This new information in particular, however, was going to lead him right back to a fight he thought he had let go of after coming home from Wakanda. Those days were supposed to all be behind him.

“Soviet sniper slug,” Natasha observed, then met eyes with Steve. “Sound familiar?”

“It’s how we tracked Bucky when — how we tracked the Winter Soldier.”

Bucky leaned forward on the table. “It led you to me, I get it. It’s all right. But, that’s only part of what’s important about this. When I was in Siberia, the guards would talk about another soldier — someone I assumed was another soldier. Whatever high-priority jobs I didn’t do, it was this guy. Got in and out meticulously, without leaving any evidence behind, except for one thing, no one ever managed to find. The guy would retrieve the casing and the bullet from every kill, bury it either near the sniper stage or near where the victim had fallen, if possible.”

“Too much foot traffic to do that in front of the UN,” Nick noted.

Bucky swallowed. “But behind a brick in an old chimney on top of the building where the shot was fired from? A rooftop that’s hardly ever accessed? Judging by the upkeep, I’d guess it’s been months if not a couple, three years since someone’s been up there. Really, the brick being out of place came down to the details. If I wouldn’t have noticed, I doubt anyone ever would have.”

Tony Stark looked skeptical. “How come we’ve never heard of this other guy? You put him out of a job, or what?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky sighed, “I only know that he was never in Siberia, not when I was. We never crossed paths, I mean. The guards, they called him The Ghost.”

“Another ghost story,” Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are we sure this is the same person? Not a copycat, or even a newly-risen Hydra division that’s created a copycat?”

“I don’t think so.” Bucky stood from his chair and lifted his hands momentarily before letting them slap back down against his thighs. “I’ve told you what I know. You let me know when you decide what to do about it.”

He walked away from the conference room after that. The tension in his muscles was becoming too much, and he needed time to breathe. Needed time to sort out what it meant to potentially be back in the middle of all of this again.

In his room, he pulled a shoe box out from under his bed and set it on the mattress next to him. He opened the lid and took out the contents: old letters from his parents while he had been overseas, newspaper clippings from Steve’s first ridiculous performances as Captain America. Pictures from his youth, a few greeting cards his mother had saved.

At the bottom was the thing he had come here to find. A picture of him with Y/N, standing outside the medical tent at the camp where they had met. Bucky had been clever about the picture, claiming he wanted a picture with her to send to his mother to show who had stitched him up after the fight. He had his arm around her, and she smiling at the camera. It was a natural smile; Bucky remembered that she had been laughing at something he said right before the picture was taken. He was looking at her, smiling and so delighted with the fact that he had made her smile, brought her some little morsel of happiness. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost hear her laughter.

“How’d you manage to keep that?”

Bucky looked up from the picture to see Steve leaning in the doorway. “Ma. They sent all my belongings to her after the fall from the train. It got passed around to some different places, but Fury tracked this box down for me. This picture was at the bottom. I don’t look at it often, but sometimes …” Bucky let out a breath. “Sometimes seeing her is the only thing that helps me calm down. This is the only way to do that.”

It wasn’t the same as seeing her in person, but remembering what that calm had been like, it was enough to pull him back from the edge. Steve offered some comforting words, about how Y/N had been brave enough to go after Bucky, and he knew she would be incredibly proud of everything Bucky had overcome.

Bucky tossed the picture back in the box before piling the other things on top of it and replacing the lid on the box. “What’s the move, Captain?”

Steve hesitated to tell his friend at the moment, but there was never gonna good time to tell him that the decision had been made to go after The Ghost.

“And we’re sure it’s not me?”

Steve frowned. “What? Buck, of course it’s not you. How could it be?”

“I don’t know, man. I’ve done a lot of shit. I got wiped God knows how many times. Maybe The Ghost is just another persona Hydra put in my brain and buried deep down in there, where even Shuri couldn’t get to it.”

“It’s not possible,” Steve assured. “You were with me, training when it happened. All of that is on the compound’s cameras. Not one person here has had a passing thought that maybe it was you. All right? You’re a good man, I know that. I’ve always known that. Y/N knew that. The rest of them know that, now.”

Bucky didn’t say anything; he didn’t know what to say. A part of him had hoped they could explore the possibility that he was The Ghost, stall finding another lost soul for a while. The thought of looking into someone else’s eyes and seeing the pain and misery that he had dealt with for so long was almost more than he could think to bear.

For that reason, a few days later, when enough intel had come in on a possible location for The Ghost, Bucky tucked the picture of Y/N inside his jacket before loading onto the quinjet.

Part Four

Tags: @captain-s-rogers @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @jackryanplz @xtina2191 @shynara51 @captain-rogers-beard @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @pinknerdpanda

#marvel #fanfiction #bucky barnes #reader insert #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #soulmates #soulbond #to be continued!#queue and i remember budapest very differently

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everlastingcaptainswan · 4 years

Photo

Contractual Attraction (5/?)

Enchanted Forest AU

Summary: The war had raged on for many years, the people of Misthaven would say too many, and there was only one way to end it, only one way to quiet talks of rebellion. Princess Emma of Misthaven would have to marry the enemy, Prince Killian of Montave.

Notes: Raise of hands who likes bed sharing ;) Happy New Year!

FF Ao3

Chapter Five: The Voyage Home

Emma was grateful that they were leaving the next morning. At least she’ll be home where she belongs, not in this castle being accused of a million different things, not with people who have so many ulterior motives.

Anna was sad to see her go, claiming the visit is entirely too short and Emma reminded her that she’ll see them at the wedding. This seemed to bring a smile to her face. Elsa gave Emma a warm hug wishing her safe travels. Emma didn’t quite return it after their spat last night, which she might regret later. Liam and Killian had a hushed conversation away from the rest of them. Killian had barely met her eyes when she entered the room, this awkwardness could make for a very uncomfortable voyage home. When Graham opened the door and entered all conversation stopped. Emma was the only one to approach him. A grave look was on his face and Emma frowned.

“I don’t like that look on your face, what’s wrong?” she whispered, keeping a healthy distance between them.

“We might not be able to leave today. The captain’s dead,” he said quietly.

“What?!?” Emma practically yelled. That certainly captured everyone’s full attention. Killian left Liam’s side and joined Emma and Graham.

“What seems to be the problem?” Killian asked.

“The captain of our ship is dead,” Emma sighed, “what the hell happened?”

“He broke up a fight in a tavern last night and got stabbed for his troubles.”

“Well Killian is a fine captain he can get you to Misthaven,” Elsa pointed out. Emma spun to Killian, a hopeful look in her eyes. She just wanted to be home, to see her parents again, to talk with her mother about everything she was feeling.

“I could, but I won’t,” Killian said resolutely.

“May I ask why not?” Emma said, frustrated. This was not the time to be noble. They needed to get home. Emma needed to get out of this castle.

“That crew on your ship they are your men and I’m an outsider. If you made me captain, they might stage a mutiny and I like being alive thank you very much. Promote the lieutenant, if he needs any assistance, I’ll be happy to help,” Killian commanded. Graham looked to Emma for approval and she nodded.

“I’ll alert him at once,” Graham said curtly.

“We’ll meet you at the docks,” Emma said, not keen on wasting any more time.

Graham was able to arrange everything for the trip home and promoted lieutenant to captain easily, who was currently giving Killian a tour of the ship with Emma and Graham trailing behind them. They came to a halt in front of Emma’s cabin.

“This will be your cabin with the Princess,” Captain Oliver told them.

“Excuse me?” Emma interjected before Killian could say anything.

“Sorry, Your Highness the ship only has one passenger cabin,” the captain explained. Emma was used to traveling on the Cygnus with her parents which had two passenger cabins, not the Snowbell with it’s one.

“Oh right of course,” Emma nodded. They had taken the Snowbell because its small size made for a swifter and an easier journey. The captain and Graham made their goodbyes. Killian opened the cabin door for her. She stepped into the small cabin with its very small bed. The door shut and Emma turned to face him.

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll be sleeping on the floor.” Emma scoffed.

“No, we can share the bed. We’ll have to get used to it anyway,” she shook her head.

“We will, but you look thoroughly uncomfortable at the idea of sharing a bed. I can sleep on the floor; I’ve had worse quarters and none of those had beautiful women in them.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. Emma rolled her eyes.

“Such a charmer.”

“Only for you, darling. I’ll be back I forgot to offer the young captain my navigation skills.” He bowed slightly before leaving. When the door shut once more Emma sighed, she thought she wouldn’t have to face anything like this with him until they got married, which was months away. She vowed to not be in the cabin as much as possible, so she left in search of fresh sea air to clear her head.

Unfortunately, the weather turned forcing her back into their cabin while every other hand on the ship was on deck helping. She itched to help, but Captain Oliver had all but shoved back below deck, claiming they didn’t need any more help. He didn’t want the crown princess in danger even though Emma had been in danger many times in her life. She stubbornly sat up in bed, her arms wrapped around her legs. Emma didn’t like storms, never has. She rested her head on her knees. The uneasy rocking of the ship wasn’t helping her fears either.

The door banged open with a lurch of the ship. Killian was soaked, dripping water everywhere.

“I didn’t think you’d still be awake.” He closed the door firmly behind him.

“Could anyone sleep through this?” Killian began stripping off his wet clothes and Emma turned away after a pointed look from Killian. She had spent too long in camps along the battlefield to care about nudity, but most princesses were supposed to be modest and naive. Both things she was not.

“Only the most experienced sailor and even then, maybe not.” Thunder clapped and Emma practically jumped off the bed.

“Love, do you not like storms?” Killian said, curiosity in his voice. Emma still wouldn’t look at him, not sure if he was clothed or not since he clearly didn’t want to be seen by her.

“No, not particularly and not your love.”

“Term of endearment and habit pardon me. Look at me,” she shook her head, “I’m not naked.” She sighed before turning her attention back to him. He was dressed in a white tunic and loose pants. All his wet clothes laid out across the desk or chair in the hopes they will dry overnight.

“The ship is in good hands. We’ll whether this storm. I’ll be right here. Now, I’m going to put out this lantern and we’re both going to sleep.” Kindness was present in his eyes and Emma nodded. Killian still insisted on sleeping on the floor. The cabin became dark and Emma settled into bed. Every couple of minutes the cabin was lit up by the lightning outside. The thunder made Emma flinch and clutched the blankets to her chest.

“Killian?” There was an audible sigh.

“Yes, love.” She gritted her teeth at that, and he was definitely pushing her buttons by calling her that.

“The floor can’t be comfortable on your back; you know you should sleep up here. It’d be a tight squeeze, but it’d be better than the floor. I mean you were soaking wet too and the body heat will be good for you.” She listed all the reasons why it would be good for him, but she couldn’t admit that she wanted the company of someone else.

“Emma, I’m fine.”

“Killian, please,” she all but whispered. He sighed, but stood up. With a flash of lightning Killian finally saw her face, her fear.

“Scoot over.” She moved over and turned on her side. He climbed into the bed, her backside resting against his front. His arm around her waist. He was cold against her, but she would warm him up in time.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered to her.

“There was a bad storm when I was eleven. I got caught in it when I was out on a ride and I was separated from my father. The horse got frightened by some lightning and bucked me off. I had managed to get up afterward, but stumbled into a marsh and got tangled in tree branches, weeds, and whatnot. I had lost my knife when I got bucked off, so I was stuck there for hours until my father found me and was able to free me. I haven’t liked thunderstorms since then.”

“I can’t say I blame you there. Thank you for telling me,” he whispered, his breath hitting the back of her neck. Despite his earlier irritation, his words were genuine. They said nothing else and he soothed her throughout the continuing storm until they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Emma woke the next morning blissfully warm, she turned to find Killian still clinging onto her. He didn’t seem feverish which could happen after being in the cold rain for hours. While he was still sleeping, she took the opportunity to dress for the day. He woke not long after.

“Were you going to wake me?” he asked suspicious.

“I would have, but you needed the sleep after last night,” she said not looking at him. The storm brought old fears to the surface, made her feel extremely vulnerable. It’s something she wanted to avoid with him.

“Aye, I did, but so did you. Your night wasn’t any easier.” He said to her back.

“No, it wasn’t. Thank you,” she said softly before leaving the cabin. Killian didn’t have to ask what for.

Emma ventured up on deck and it was needless to say that the Snowbell had seen better days. The storm took a toll on not only the ship but the crew as well. Emma visited the crew with Captain Oliver, attempting to heal them, and tend to their wounds in any way she could. They had lost a couple of men in the night; Emma gave her condolences to the crew and said a few words for them at breakfast.

Emma spied Killian and Captain Oliver talking in hushed tones. She made her way over to them.

“Is there a problem?” Emma asked the two of them.

“There was damage to the main sail, we’ll have to make a stop in the nearest port to fix it,” Killian informed her.

“The nearest port is known stop for pirates, we will be endangering both of you by going,” Captain Oliver interjected, raising his voice slightly.

“Why don’t we continue this conversation in your cabin, Captain?” Emma said, sweetly as to hide any concern that could arise from the situation from nearby listeners. Captain Oliver nodded.

Once in the captain’s cabin Emma turned to Captain Oliver, “I understand your concerns, but the Prince and I can adequately protect ourselves.”

“Love, he’s worried about pirates capturing us for ransom,” Killian stated.

“I know that, we’ll simply stay below deck while repairs are made.” Killian raised an eyebrow while considering this.

“Your Highness, what if people question why we’re there? What we are carrying?” Captain Oliver questioned her.

“Tell them we ran into a storm and we are heading home from the front lines,” Killian shrugged. Captain Oliver looked unsure about the plan.

“We don’t have another option. Without this plan we’ll be stuck dead in the water.” Emma reminded the captain, who at this finally agreed.

Killian and Emma stayed below deck as the Snowbell entered the harbor. Emma in their room and Killian wandered through the ship. He took inventory and fixed other small problems caused by the storm. The crew is given leave that night. August and Graham stayed behind to guard the ship and two royals below deck. The ship’s chef kindly left some stew for them. Emma scooped some up into her bowel when Killian entered the galley.

“Care to join me?” she asked him. Killian nodded, getting stew for himself. They discussed meaningless things for a while.

“Something has been in the back of mind, nagging me.” Killian confessed, pouring more wine for the both of them.

“What would that be?” Emma sipped her wine.

“You talked of marrying for love, but have you ever been in love?” he asked her. She definitely wasn’t expecting that question.

“No, well maybe once,” she chuckled.

“Maybe?” he asked, now curious.

“I was sixteen, young and stupid. I was infatuated with the son of a duke who was going off the battlefield and said all the right words. He put on this bravado of this strong man who was going to fight for our kingdom and well it appealed to a young naive girl who had never seen a battlefield herself, who was still in training. After he left, I never heard from him again. He got one look at battle and was scared apparently. Faked an injury to be sent home. He wanted nothing to do with me after that.” She sighed, remembering Neal and how grateful she was her parents didn’t give their blessing to that union. Killian laughed as well.

“Young love will make you do crazy things,” he conceded.

“It will. What about you? Ever been in love?” she asked, and his mood changed in an instant. Something akin to hurt and heartbreak was present in his eyes.

“Aye captured some pirates at sea once. Their captain was a woman, Milah. Everyone told me to not trust her, but we began talking and rather foolishly I fell for her. She used my trust to break free. We caught up to her in a small seaside village and when I confronted her and accused her of using me, she said it wasn’t personal. That she cared for me, but she had cared about her freedom more. I couldn’t say I blamed her there, but the words hurt. I was willing to petition for her freedom once we returned to Montave, but she said it was a long shot that had no guarantee. She was right I suppose, but she wasn’t willing to trust me.” Killian told her, rather sadly. Emma placed her hand over his.

“Thank you for telling me. Love is messy, but worth it or so my mother says.” Killian nodded, gulping down more of the wine. They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Emma not sure what else could be said and Killian not sure what else to say. Thankfully August came down to get food as well and the conversation picked up again.

When they both decided to return to their cabin for the night Killian was unsure where he should sleep. The floor seemed cold and hard after spending a night in Emma’s arms. He didn’t really wish to return to it. They quietly changed into their night clothes, not looking at one another.

“Just get in the damn bed,” Emma said, as if she could read his thoughts. He nodded and they arranged themselves as comfortably as they could. The silence between them wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. She let out a little sigh before falling asleep and that’s when Killian realized he was full blown head over heels in love with her. He was definitely in trouble because she didn’t want anything to do with him, she was in this for the politics, not him. He would have to spend a lifetime loving someone who didn’t love him back. Hopefully in time she could grow to at least like him. That’s probably the best he could hope for.

Killian and Emma were tired of being stuck on the ship. Emma was dying to feel the sea breeze on her face and the sunshine. Killian hated the idle feeling and fixed everything below deck on the ship due to sheer boredom. It took a couple more days for the repairs to be made before they could set sail once more. The moment the ship was out of sight from the harbor Emma and Killian burst onto the deck of the ship, happy to feel the warmth of the sun and fresh air. More importantly Emma was happy to have some space from Killian, sharing a bed with Killian was making it harder and harder to hate him. She might even be falling for him.

#cs #cs au #cs au ff #cs au fic #Captain Swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #enchanted forest #Enchanted Forest AU #royalty au #cs royalty #enemies to lovers #I hate you but I have to marry you #Sharing a bed #emma swan #Princess!Emma #killian jones #Prince!Killian

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buckysflower · 4 years

Text

Sentimental Part 2 (Bucky Barnes x OC)

summary; a new project by HYDRA was created to obtain leverage over the former Winter Soldier but when the Avengers intervene, a battle between HYDRA programming and reality breaks out

word count: 848

Longing.

Bucky feels tense, like his insides are trying to compact themselves into a tiny box. Like he can’t get a grip on reality.

Rusted.

He feels old and stale, like his skin is tightening as well as trying to convey his true age but struggling against the serum.

Furnace.

He feels hot, like his body is trying to fight the infection of the serum but it’s too strong and he might explode.

Daybreak.

He feels the pain of his fall, the pain of his arm being ripped from his body and the pain of this new one being sewn to every nerve. Causing a new beginning without his consent.

Seventeen.

He vaguely remembers his family, what he used to have and he feels immense and powerful grief.

Benign.

Bucky feels…remembrance?

He finds himself in a HYRA lab, like the one where the Winter Soldier was born. The lab is dark and unnaturally quiet. He hears his boots click on the hard floor. However silent the assassin learned to become, his breath hitches loudly in his throat. His metal hand clenches and his arm whirrs in suspense, ready to attack.

Nine.

He sees the familiar emblem on the back wall and similar equipment littered across the tables but something is...off. He notices a large container, almost like one used for shipping, and sees a window into the container. Bucky cautiously steps closer and peers inside but second guesses himself and steps away.

Homecoming.

He feels the same atmosphere from his time at HYDRA but rather than pain he feels a tone of counterfeit. A tone of forgery. Fabrication.

One.

He feels solidarity with whomever is in that container.

Freight—

He wakes up in a cold sweat. Even though Wakanda wiped HYDRAs programming from his head, he still feels the emotional ties to those insidious words.

Bucky bolts up to a sitting position. His long hair clinging to his forehead and his shirt feels like it’s attached to his skin. With a heaving chest, he climbs out of bed and pads to the kitchen area of the Avengers Compound. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and grabs whatever coffee is left in the pot. It’s stale.

The sun still hasn’t risen so he decides to sit outside and watch it. Padding down to the elevator and out to the front of the compound, he sits on the corner steps and watches the sun rise over the trees of Upstate New York. He relishes in the peaceful moments the morning always has to offer. This is the only time he can feel alive. These past few weeks for some reason have taken a toll on the super soldier. He can’t find the energy to care for people or to even care for himself. It’s an uphill battle to even shower so he doesn’t very often. To be honest, it doesn't really matter because he generally stays away from people anyways.

He jumps slightly when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey Buck,” Steve greets as he sits down next to him. Steve leans forward and puts his crossed arms on his knees as he sighs in contentment. “How are you doing?” Steve inquires gently.

“ ‘M alright” Bucky mumbles, his usual answer. Steve accepts the vague and definitely false answer anyway.

“Stark wants all of us at a briefing today.”

“That’s cool.” Bucky fidgets with a thread on the hem of his shirt.

“All of us, Buck.” Steve sucks in a breath and gazes back out on the horizon. “Listen, I know you’re struggling but I need you on this mission.”

Bucky tenses slightly and his best friend definitely noticed. Bucky remembers a flash of his dream—nightmare.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks worriedly.

“It’s fine, just a stupid dream I had last night.” Bucky brushes him off and starts to get up. Steve sighs in slight frustration.

Steve walks into the briefing room first where the rest of the Avengers are, followed closely by Bucky. They both sit down near Sam.

“Woah man,” Sam makes a face at Bucky. “Dude you smell nuclear.”

“What are you gonna do? Shit on my car, Birdman?” Bucky shoots back. The rooms gets hit with a flash of awkward silence that is quickly broken.

“Boys, put your rulers away.” Tony chastises from the front of the room. “FRIDAY, display visuals.” He commands the AI. “We have reason to believe our buddies at HYDRA are harboring another project person—thing.” Tony glances at Bucky for a brief second.

“We don’t know what is going on for sure but this is definitely a search and rescue type of mission.” Steve adds.

“Thanks Cap, but it’s my turn to talk. See? I have the laser pointer.” Tony points the laser at Steve’s chest and draws circles on him for emphasis resulting in Steve putting his hands up in surrender. “Anyway, yeah I guess, search and rescue. But also dangerous search and rescue because we have no idea what is up HYDRAs dreadfully colored sleeve.”

While Tony finishes briefing everyone, Bucky is still thinking about what he saw before he stepped away from the window. He could have sworn he saw a girl with red hair. He visibly shakes his head and tunes into whatever snarky comment Tony has to say.

#marvel #bucky #bucky barnes #buck fanfic #bucky fan fic #avengers imagine #avengers #shield #hyrdra

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let-it-raines · 5 years

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Betting on the Bullseye (22/30)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a drunken bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush - if you can call him that - to be her date to her office's annual fundraising gala for Boston's Children Shelter. Killian Jones is that celebrity. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost all because of the ridiculousness of the situation. What she doesn't expect is for him to say yes.

What she truly doesn't expect is to actually like the man.

Rating: Mature

A/N: So, like, does anyone else wonder how an absolutely ridiculous concept that would mortify me to my core in real life (it mortifies me a little when I look at the summary) has turned into a thirty chapter story that is decidedly not about the prompt anymore? Anyone? No? Me either.

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @galaxyzxstark @lifeinahole27 @andiirivera @ultimiflos @hollyethecurious @thejollyroger-writer @superchocovian @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @notoriouscs

“What about this one?”

“Too small.”

“This one?”

“Too expensive.”

“Emma.”

“Killian.”

“For fuck’s sake, you have to like something, Swan,” he mutters under his breath before slamming his laptop shut and running his hand through his hair, fingers sticking in the unwashed strands, while he tries to calm his breathing and himself before he truly goes off on Emma after having listened to her rejections on apartments for the better part of the last three hours. He’s rejected a few things too, but damn, they’re never going to find anything if it keeps going like this.

He’s just going to go off on Emma’s TV stand. Not break it or anything. Just complain to it about how they can’t find a home for it.

“Okaaay, so we need a break from apartment hunting,” Emma sighs, slouching down on the couch and propping her feet up on the coffee table, mismatched socks on full display to him. He wonders if she ever matches her socks. Probably not. It’s kind of charming. They’ve been looking online for hours, and she’s likely right. It’s nearly impossible right now. They need a breather. “What do you want to watch?”

“I feel like we need to talk about why we’re having issues finding a place.”

“Probably because we just decided to move in together yesterday, and you and I have totally different budgets.”

“I told you, love,” he sighs, twisting his head to look at her even as she avoids looking at him, “I want to buy a place. It’s better than renting. It’s equity, and we can renovate if we need to.”

“I can’t afford to buy these places, though. I know you can, but I’d like to contribute something.” Emma brings her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes darting over to him before they look back at the television while her fingers tap against her legs, a series of nervous ticks if he’s ever seen them. He knew that was going to be a thing, but they’re not going to avoid issues anymore. They’re going to talk about them and figure them out even if it’s uncomfortable. “I’m not saying…I’m not saying I don’t have faith in us or whatever, but – ”

“Darling, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll get both of our names on the deed, or just yours, or whatever the hell you want so that if we break up, you don’t have to worry about moving. Or hell, you sell it, and then you buy what you want.”

She finally looks at him then, a brow raised on her forehead so that it wrinkles, and he can do nothing but smile as he watches the features on her face change while she thinks. She’s going to agree. She’s going to be a bit of an arse about it, but she’s going to agree. He also knows that she’s likely going to be the one who ends up finding the damn place while walking down the street instead of finding one after hours and days and weeks of searching.

He’s probably getting a little too much enjoyment out of this.

He’s really damn excited to be looking for a place to live with Emma.

With Emma.

That’s just…that’s insane. And it’s wonderful. So wonderful.

He’s a sap.

“So what you’re saying is that if I rip your heart out, I not only get to keep the apartment, but I have the possibility to profit off of it?”

“Aye.”

Slowly but surely her lips begin to curve into a smile, her teeth showing and face scrunching up into a smile. God, he’d do anything to get to see that smile every day of his life. He’s working on it. He really is. “You are a sucker, KJ. You know that?”

He simply shrugs, moving his laptop over to the side before he slides over onto the cushions and pulls Emma to him so he can leave an obnoxiously loud smacking kiss on her cheek. He’s so goddamn happy to see her, to be with her both figuratively and literally, and he doesn’t care in the slightest over Emma teasing him or thinking he’s crazy. Really, he’s glad for it.

Emma is the woman he wants to be with. There’s not a doubt in his mind about that. He wants her to be the person he’s beside for the rest of his life even when they’re fighting, and while, yes, he knows that things could hit the fan in a spectacular fashion, he has hope. So, yeah, this could either be the best or worst real estate decision he’s ever going to make.

He’s thinking the best.

“I’m a sucker for you.” “That’s only a good line when the Jonas Brothers sing it.”

“I could sing it if you want me to.”

She hums, closing her eyes and pushing at his shoulder until he moves back to where he was sitting. It’s only a few moments before Emma is curling in on her side and wrapping her arms around his waist while her head rests on his chest and his hand rests on the bare skin of her stomach under her t-shirt, warmth permeating from the skin while the smell of the vanilla in her shampoo reaches his nose.

“While that sounds like a fantastic idea and something I’m going to take you up on later,” she murmurs against the material of his t-shirt, “I think we need to keep looking at these apartments before you realize just how bad of a real estate decision you’re making here. But, like, later. I can’t look at another place where everything is monochromatic white.” “Robin would be appalled by your hatred of the all white.” “Does he know?” “Know what?”

“That you might move? Babe, I know we’ve talked about it until our faces turned blue in the past twenty-four hours, but you’ve got to tell Robin and Will. And you’ve really got to tell your family, probably in person. I can go with you if you want. Maybe we can fly back on Friday. I’m sure our faces will have morphed to purple by then.”

“Yeah?”

“The purple thing? Yeah.”

“No,” he laughs, walking his fingers up her back, “the you coming with me to talk to my family this weekend.”

“I mean, yeah. Let’s keep looking for a place, maybe set up a few viewings for the next time you’re out here, but then we’ve got to tell your family and talk about it with them. I just hope they won’t hate me. I mean, I’ll still move to California, but I – ” “They love you,” he interrupts, ignoring her offer to move to California. She’s offered enough times that he doesn’t know if he can hear it again. Boston is the best decision for them right now, and they’re sticking with it. “Aiden loves you as much as Leo loves me.” “As reassuring as that is,” she sighs while nuzzling into his stomach again, her hand resting on his knee and tracing his skin with her fingernail, “I was kind of concerned with the adults. Should we tell my friends together too?”

“Nah, I thought maybe I’d just move and they’d figure it out when I showed up to every damn dinner.”

“It might take them awhile to notice.”

“Weeks most likely.”

“So maybe we should just tell them. I’ll get them a little card and some chocolate to soften the blow of finding out that I’ve decided to stick with ya, honey bunches.”

“Swan, I swear if you start calling me all of those ridiculous names I’ll – ”

“You’ll what? Break up with me? Can you wait until we own a fancy apartment so I can make some big bucks without lifting a finger?”

He should have never suggested that. She’d never do something like that, but she’s definitely going to tease him about it.

“I hate you.”

“I love you too, sweet cheeks.”

-/-

“Killy,” Leo screeches the moment they walk into the Nolan’s house the next night, David running behind him with wide eyes and a heaving chest. What the hell have the two of them been doing?

“Hi, buddy,” he laughs, reaching down and picking Leo up so he doesn’t run out the front door, all of the features on David’s face relaxing for just a moment. Dave looks far older than he did the last time Killian saw him, so the first few days of having more than one kid must have really taken their toll. “Did you miss me?”

“Yep. I have a brother.”

“I heard, little lad. You’re an older brother now, yeah?”

“Uh huh,” Leo sighs, relaxing in his arms and looking over at Emma who’s picking up the bags of groceries they brought even if Emma already brought over some frozen meals earlier this week. He figures if they’re going to invade parents of a newborn and a toddler, the least they can do is bring some food. “Is Superman here?”

Emma chuckles next to him, a glint of amusement in her eyes, and she moves her brows across her forehead. “No, but super Emma is.”

“I want Superman.”

“Leo,” David sighs, his eyes still a little heavy even as he greets Emma by kissing her cheek, “you have to be nice. Killian and Emma came to play with you.”

“It’s alright, mate. I’d want to see Superman over boring old me any day.”

“His clothes are a lot tighter than yours, so I second that.”

He rolls his eyes at Emma before he passes by she and David and makes his way into the kitchen with Leo, grabbing a bag of groceries from Emma on the way so he can unload them even with Leo babbling in his ear about anything and everything from his brother to his toys to the squirrel that was in the backyard yesterday. He and Leo have become good buddies over the past few months, and if it annoys Emma a little bit over how Leo will pick him over her, that’s only justified for how she’s stolen Aiden from him.

Not literally stolen, but that’s how it feels when Aiden would rather sleep on her chest than on his.

Then again, she’s got a fantastic chest…which is not at all the thing to be thinking when talking about a child’s napping preferences.

Then again – nope. Not going there.

“Where’s your mummy?” he asks Leo as he places the bunch of bananas on their countertop and stuffs the plastic bags in the container the Nolans keep of them under their sink. How the hell does he know where they keep their plastic bags?

“I don’t know.”

“Of course you don’t,” he murmurs under his breath before he moves away from the counters and makes his way to the living room where he can hear Emma and David talking before he even gets to the archway.

“You’re sure about this?” David questions, arms crossed over his chest and back straight in what Killian assumes is his position for when he interrogates suspects. David at work has got to be a sight to see. Maybe he’ll ask to shadow him one day. Lie and say it’s for a role simply so he can mess with the man.

“I mean, yeah. I love him and want a future with him. It’s been so hard even when it’s been good, and it’s only going to get worse when he’s working more or when we’ve been together longer, I think.”

“And he didn’t want you to move to LA?”

“He did. I did. I didn’t want him to feel like he has to give up anything for me, but we both agreed here is better for now. Maybe in the future we’ll move there. I don’t really know. It’s a lot of logistics.”

“If this is what you want, I’m happy for you.”

“Please,” Emma laughs, her eyes glancing to him in a way that he knows is her telling him she’s been aware he’s been creepily lurking in the archway, “don’t you at all pretend that you’re not thrilled that Killian’s going to be around more. I know he’s your favorite of my boyfriends that I keep toting around on each arm.”

The cheeky little minx that is his girlfriend.

“He’s in the room, isn’t he?”

“I knew you loved me, Dave,” Killian chuckles, walking further in with Leo who’s been surprisingly quiet this entire time. Obviously, his bud is meant to be an eavesdropper too. “I was thinking about buying the house right next door to here. We can even connect the houses if you want. That way I can visit you at night so we can have a cup of tea and chat all about our preferences for running shoes.”

“You’re obnoxious.”

“But you love me, right Leo? Does your daddy love me?”

“Yeah, Daddy loves Killy.”

“For f – ”

“Oh boy,” Emma smiles, shaking her head from side to side with the most precious smile tugging at her lips. “Babe, you’re going to make David curse in front of his kid. I suggest you don’t make his anxiety heighten by threatening to move in with him.”

“Not a threat, love,” he explains as he puts Leo down on the ground so he can play with some of his toys. “Just a very good offer to be roommates with the Nolans. Wouldn’t you like to do that?”

“There is literally no good way for me to answer that.”

He winks. “Exactly. So where’s Mary Margaret?”

“She and Brody are sleeping,” David explains as they all finally sit down, the couch moving under he and Emma’s weight. “They had a late night last night, so I hope she’s getting some sleep now. If she knew you guys were here, though, she’d be down here in a second, sleep deprivation not at all a worry, especially because you guys are apparently moving in together. She’d be all over that.”

“She’s far too invested in my life,” Emma jokes as her fingers start messing with the hair at the nape of his neck, shivers running down his spine with every delicate touch. God, she’s good at playing with his hair. She does this thing with her finger and damn, it’s amazing. She also does this thing with her tongue…but now is not the time for him to think about that. He’s obviously got to get his mind out of the gutter. “But she should definitely sleep. Is it about the same as with Leo?”

David shrugs while he wipes the sleep away from his eyes. “It’s different because we’re not as clueless and also have two kids to manage, but mostly it’s different because Brody is not at all as calm. It’s kind of like night and day, but we’ll figure it out. I think she’s honestly more stressed about us not having everything done because we’d put a few things off. He showed up a bit early to the party.”

“We can help, you know? That’s why we’re here. I didn’t buy you food just because I wanted to eat.”

“You ate a cereal bar on the way here,” Emma teases, and he twists his head to look at her and the same playful glint she had in her eyes earlier. He can’t stop thinking about how Emma was talking about how she wants a future with him without any hesitation in her voice. He knows that she wants it, knows that she loves him, but something about hearing her tell David about it has calmed him about this transition they’re about to make.

He was already calm. He’s just…he’s happy. Content.

“That was supposed to be a secret.”

“I’ve never been very good at keeping those.”

“Really now? Because unless you’re being weird and channeling Mary Margaret, I don’t think that’s true. Though, I’m kind of conflicted on whether or not I want you to be a good liar.”

“You probably don’t, KJ. Also, props on joking about Mary Margaret when David is right there.”

Emma raises her hand to give him a high five, and he laughs as he slaps her palm before interlacing their fingers and bringing her wrist to his so he can brush a kiss there.

“You come into my home, you steal my child away from me, you make fun of my wife, and worst of all, you eat my cereal bars.”

“It’s a hard knock life for you, Dave. Sorry about that.”

“You’re most definitely not.”

“You’ll never know because I’m a much better liar than Emma.”

“Hey,’ she groans, slapping his head instead of playing with his hair, “we just talked about how that was not a good thing.”

“For you. I said nothing about me.”

“Asshole.”

“Language.”

“David.”

The three of them spend the rest of the evening talking about everything from baseball to the apartments and houses they’ve looked at, David offering to let them know if he sees anything they might like, before Emma offers to go heat up one of the casserole dishes so that they can eat dinner. Mary Margaret eventually comes down with Brody, the little lad as small as can be wrapped up in his pajamas with a hat on his head. He looks just like Leo from what Killian can tell, and when Mary Margaret offers to let him hold Brody, he takes the opportunity, even if holding someone else’s newborn child will never not be terrifying.

Seriously. They’re so small and fragile, and no human being should ever have a self-destruct button on top of their head.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Mary Margaret sighs as she takes a sip of her water while David and Emma are in the kitchen finishing up dinner. Brody is staring up at him in between his fits of sleeping, and Killian’s pretty sure he’s been running his fingers over the lad’s stomach for the past half hour. It’s weirdly soothing. “I know Emma would die of mortification if I made it out to be a big deal, but this is such a big deal. She trusts you and loves you so much, and it’s a nice thing to see after watching that not happen over and over again.”

He smiles at Mary Margaret, something soft to keep things calm, because when he looks at her, she might as well be radiating out of her skin with excitement and eagerness to talk about it. She and Anna would probably hit it off like mad. Or maybe they’d hate each other. There can likely only be so much positive energy in a single room at one time.

Maybe they’ll have to meet outdoors.

But she’s right. He knows all of the dirty details of Emma’s past like she knows all of his, and them trusting each other and loving each other is a big thing.

“Well, I’m grateful that she’s given me the opportunity to be that kind of partner for her,” he admits, getting up from the couch and carefully placing Brody in his seat on the coffee table. “I was so damn anxious after this weekend because I knew we’d have to make a step like this at some point, and while I’ve never really doubted that Emma wanted to be with me, that’s still terrifying, you know?”

“Absolutely. I haven’t always been an overtired mom with a so-called ‘settled’ life. David and I went through all of that too. We didn’t live across the country from each other, but a relationship is a relationship. Sometimes even the good things are terrifying.”

“You sound like Elsa.”

“Well, I’ve never met her, but I’m pretty much Emma’s Elsa. We’re obligated to give advice even if we have no idea what we’re saying.”

So maybe she’s like Elsa too.

“That’s reassuring.” “That’s life. You guys will be good, and as much as I love my boys, I expect you guys to have a guest room for me so I can take a nap in a kid-free, husband-free space.”

“Of course we can do that, milady,” he laughs before taking a step forward and leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll add it to our list.”

“Good.”

“Though, you might be stuck with Emma’s awful mattress and bedframe, so I’m not sure how much you’ll want to be sleeping over.”

“If I can sleep diagonally, I’ll sleep on a bed of nails.”

-/-

“Okay, you’re weird.”

“Love, this is not weird.”

“It so is,” Emma laughs as they walk past a Starbuck’s at the airport, the line stretching around the ropes and out into the walkway. “Who in the world walks up and down the entire terminal to, and I quote ‘explore the architecture’ instead of sitting down and messing around with their phone?”

He shrugs before wrapping his arm around her shoulder and kissing her cheek underneath her baseball cap, rubbing his scruff into her skin simply so her entire face will scrunch up in the way that he likes. “I do. You see the most interesting things in airports. If you just sit at your gate, you miss so much. I mean, however will you know that you can get a customized Boston Red Sox neck pillow if you’re just waiting for your plane to take off?”

“I’m leaning so much about you today.”

“I don’t really appreciate your teasing tone there, Swan.”

“What?” she laughs, guiding them into a small bookstore. “It’s so true, KJ. You get anxious going through security even though you are a pro at traveling and then after that, you like to explore airports. You’re a fascinating man.”

“You’re too easily entertained. Why are we looking at books?”

“I need something to do on the plane. I’m not sure that ours has movies.”

“It does. I checked.”

“Oh,” she sighs, putting the book she was looking at down and clapping her hands together. “Then there’s no way in hell I’m paying fifteen dollars for a bad romance novel then. Let’s go get some coffee and a donut or something.”

“We ate before we got here.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t eat donuts, KJ,” she says as her eyes roll before she’s walking out of the store with her carry-on trailing behind here.

A woman on a mission for donuts.

Flying with Emma for the first time is definitely an adventure, and they haven’t even made it out of the shops yet. He’s honestly so amused by her all of the time, and he already knows that she’s going to buy a dozen donuts to eat on the plane even if she’ll only eat two of them and give the rest of them away.

Because a stranger giving away donuts while thirty thousand feet in the air is definitely something no one will find the slightest bit sketchy.

Emma doesn’t buy an entire dozen donuts or hand them out on the plane, but she does buy each of them one with their cups of coffee that they finish off while still exploring the terminal. He falls asleep about halfway through the flight, and when he wakes, their pilot is announcing their arrival time. It’s late even with the time change, so he and Emma hurry out of the airport and get back to his house before falling asleep without even bothering to change out of their clothes.

“Are you nervous?” she asks him the next morning as she brushes out her hair while he shaves for the first time in a little over a week, the red in his beard showing through more than usual.

He is a little nervous to tell his family that he’s moving, to talk about all that’s coming up, but he also knows that they likely expect it, especially Elsa. It doesn’t make the blow any less hard, but he does think it may ease it the slightest bit. If anything, he thinks that Will and Robin might take it the hardest, Roland even more so, and the guilt does weigh on him a bit. But this is the right decision. He knows that it is. They’ve talked about it, thought about it, and he wouldn’t be doing this if it’s not what he wanted.

It’ll be a new normal and it’ll take awhile to adjust to things, but he’ll figure it out. They’ll both figure it out. He’s not giving up anything. His life is simply going through another adjustment period. But this one is a good one.

“Aye, a little bit,” he admits, running his razor across his jaw, “but they’ll be fine.”

“They’ll miss you,” Emma sighs, putting her brush down and walking over to him so that she wraps her arms around his stomach and kisses between his shoulder blades before he can feel her nuzzle her face in his skin. “You’ll visit a lot though. I will too. And maybe we can get them to come out to visit us. I think they’d like Boston.”

“We do have a hell of a lot of miles that they can travel with.”

“Trust me, I know. I can cash them in for a bunch of Amazon gift cards, and I’ve resisted the urge.”

“The height of selflessness.”

When they get to Liam’s place for lunch, he and Elsa are standing in the garage going through storage containers, piles of them scattering the floor with their cars sitting in the driveway. It’s an absolute mess. He had no idea that they even had this much stuff out here, and he’s sure that they’ve likely already cleaned out half of it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be cooking, Jones?” he calls out as he slams his door closed. “I was under the impression that you guys were going to be feeding me today.”

“I swear to God, Killian, you better be talking to your brother and not me.”

“Of course I am, lass,” he promises, walking over to Elsa and kissing her cheek in greeting. “I like to impose as much difficulty on my brother as I can.”

“That’s why I love you,” Elsa sighs before he sees her turn her head to look at Emma. “Oh my gosh am I happy to see you,” she squeals, quickly running toward Emma and wrapping her in a hug while he does the same to his brother. “I know it’s been less than a week, but I was worried about you.”

He doesn’t hear the rest of what Emma and Elsa are saying as he talks to Liam, the music that’s playing in the background drowning them out as he focuses on Liam.

“So you’re good?” he asks, squeezing Killian’s shoulder while his eyes scan his face, slanting for a moment before widening so he can see the blue that he always associates with his brother. “You two are good? This isn’t a ‘we’ll still love you both even though Mummy and Daddy aren’t together anymore’ kind of talk?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes the slightest bit as he shakes his head from side to side. He had talked to Liam a bit about what was going on, if only because he knew Elsa would let some of it slip. And also because his brother is his best friend who is privy to most of his thoughts. “No, it’s not that. It’s actually,” he turns his head to glance over his shoulder at Emma who’s still animatedly talking to Elsa, her hands flying all over the place while her face is brightened by her smile, “kind of the opposite of that.”

“Bloody hell. Are you getting married?”

His heart practically flies up to his throat, constricting his breathing for a moment before it settles back down into its regular resting place. That’s not…he wants to but – later. Later is the time to talk about that. “No, no. We’re not getting married, but we are, um…well – ” He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. He most definitely did not plan on telling Liam standing in his garage with Queen blaring over the speakers. “I’m moving to Boston,” he finally blurts out, the words freeing once they slip past his lips and into the air.

Liam blinks a few times, his lips slightly parting before they close and press into a smile, one that opens up so that Liam’s entire face is full of smile lines before suddenly Killian’s being pulled back into a hug, the warmth that radiates from his brother enveloping him as Liam pats him on the back several times as he whispers in his ear.

“I’m so damn happy for you. That’s – bloody hell, Killian. I can’t believe you’re making this kind of commitment. I can, but God – that’s amazing.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Of course not. I’m going to miss you, and I don’t imagine my wife’s reaction will be quite this happy, but this is a good thing. You deserve it.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs into Liam’s shoulder before pulling back, stepping out of his embrace and reaching up behind his ear so that he can scratch the shell, the urge irresistible. This is going so differently than he thought it would, but he’s not dumb enough to complain or question it. “How do you suppose I tell Elsa?”

“Quickly, like ripping off a band-aid. She’ll lose her mind if you do a big build up.”

“Aye, I know. I just don’t want to shock her.”

“Killian Jones,” Elsa screeches, coming over to him and slapping his shoulder before she places her hands on her hips and stares him down in such a way that it seems like she’s the one who’s half a foot taller, “you’re moving across the country, and you’re just now telling me?”

His eyes dart over her head to Emma who’s standing with her arms crossed over her chest and her bottom lip tugged between her teeth. “I’m sorry,” she mouths, shrugging her shoulders.

Looks like they both had the same willpower to keep their mouths shut.

“What do you mean just now? It’s only been a few days, Els.”

“You should have told me right after you decided. I could have helped.”

“With what?”

“Finding you an apartment or a house, you idiot,” she laughs, pulling him in for a hug that’s much rougher than the one Liam just gave her. Though she be but little, she is fierce. “I’ve never been to Boston, but I have my realtor’s license. I can help. It’s literally what I do for a living.”

“Darling, I know,” he chuckles into her hair before pulling back. “You helped me find my house here, but we’ve only just started looking. I don’t think we need to call in reinforcements just yet.”

“Can you believe he’s moving?” Elsa sighs, looking over to Liam before she pinches his cheeks. She’s literally pinching his cheeks. Maybe they all do need a little space. “Our little baby is growing up so fast.”

“You’re both incredibly obnoxious.”

“It’s just because we love you,” Elsa promises, pressing up on her toes and kissing his cheek where she’s just left it red. “And Emma. We love Emma too.”

“Nice to know I’m not chopped liver or something,” Emma sighs, walking over to stand next to them with the softest, most content smile on her face, “which is a super weird phrase if you think about it.”

“Swan, you’ve got to stop thinking about the origin of phrases.”

“Why? They’re all so weird.”

“You know what else is weird?” Liam questions, pulling out his phone and sliding his finger down so that the music quiets. “We were going to have chopped liver for lunch, so this is a great coincidence.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Don’t even joke about that.”

“I’m never letting you cook again.”

“I’m obviously kidding,” Liam sighs, leaning down to pick up a box before he hits the button that closes the garage door. “I’ve got a roast cooking, and I’ll even let you guys open a good bottle of wine since we’re celebrating your move.”

“Oh, you’re so generous,” Emma jests as she walks to the door that lets them into the kitchen, patting Liam on the shoulder on her way. “I can’t believe I get to be the recipient to your kindness.”

“You’re being cheeky for someone who’s probably going to need my help learning what to do and not do when living with Killian.”

Emma pauses in the doorway, sticking her head back out from where she’d walked inside the house. She seems to be thinking of something to say, her brows furrowed together, but then her lips are curling into a wicked smile and he sees her wink. She winks about like him, though. It’s so damn obvious when it’s supposed to be subtle. He loves it.

“You say this, but I also have a very big advantage that you never had when it comes to dealing with the clean freak over there.”

“And what’s that, love?”

“When he’s mad at me, I can just have sex with him.”

He’s never seen Liam look so horrified in his life, his eyes blown wide and brows raised while his lips continue to open and close, whatever words he had dying on his tongue.

“Yeah,” Elsa sighs, patting her husband on the shoulder even as he stays frozen, “I always knew that I liked her. She can make you be quiet, and honestly, what more does a girl need?”

#betting on the bullseye #captain swan #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic

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amartiniplease · 5 years

Text

Donald Malarkey x Reader

“Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now.”

A/N: Hi, it’s been a minute. I’ve been really busy with school and had a little bit of writer's block. This one has been in the making for about a month now and I just wasn’t sure how to finish it off, so I decided to leave it like this. Hope you like it!

Also I just wanted to say to tell me if you have requests for a story, having a purpose makes writing a little easier too!

Synopsis: They had already lost so much, so why did this have to keep happening?

Disclaimer: This work is based on the characters as they are portrayed in the HBO series Band of Brothers and is by no means meant as an offense to any of the real men that it was based on.

They were a miserable crowd that trudged into Haguenau. David Webster was back, smiling as if their reunion was something celebratory. His greeting had been colder then he had expected and when he joined in with second platoon all they could do was stare at his clean uniform and spotless face, dirtfree and scarless.

Ardennes and Foy had taken a hard toll on Donald Malarkey. Losing some of his best friends had taken a hard toll on him. He was battered now, sharper somehow, than before. His smiles were rare things, and he was more drawn back, disconnected from the rest of the men since taking up the role of leading the platoon. Besides, the loss he had suffered made him hesitant to open up to anyone else.

Y/n eyed him worriedly feeling a spike of sadness at his slumped posture. He looked different, not necessarily in a bad way, the raggedy look suited him. It made his interior, affected by the horrible experiences of war, reflect onto the outside.

He had just gotten back from showering, wearing a set of clean uniforms. His exhaustion was easy to spot, but then again, each and every one of them was exhausted. It was something in his eyes though, that Y/n knew had the potential to grow into hopelessness. They were all so close to that point and she was afraid that he would tip over the edge.

“Hey Don,” Y/n offered him as genuine a smile she could. “You clean up nice!” She said when she had his attention.

He chuckled drily. But the look in his eyes remained, and he didn’t smile. It made her heart hurt that she couldn’t do more. She met his eyes with a sad smile, noticing the look on her face Don walked over to her, putting an arm over her shoulder and squeezing a little. His other hand was preoccupied with lighting the smoke resting between his lips. When he got it to light up, Y/n was quick to steal it and take a long drag and lowering the cigarette before exhaling. She looked up at him turning her body more towards him and pressed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Before, when she’d done that it had always caused him to smile brightly at her but now he just let out a little relieved sigh.

“How are you holding up?” She felt him tense up at the question.

They avoided those topics most of the time. Since it was little they could do about their situation, they had agreed that it was pointless to bring up any unnecessary distress. But Y/n felt alone and Don was the only person she wanted to talk to.

He offered her the shortest response possible. “As best I can.” Shooting her an apologetic look, he brought up a hand to touched the side of her face.

Y/n leaned in to the touch before bringing the cigarette back up to her lips and breathing in the smoke. She closed her eyes as she exhaled, the feeling of desperation overcoming her all of a sudden. Tilting her head forward a little so she could rest her forehead against Don’s she inhaled another drag, letting the smoke shift out of her nose.

“I really need to shower.” She muttered instead of pressing on. As much as she trusted and respected the men, she did not feel comfortable showering with all of them.

Don leaned back to look her up and down as if he hadn’t realised her dirty state, which to be fair he probably hadn’t since it was what they were all used to. “Do you want me to talk to Speirs or Winters to see if you can get a more private option?”

Y/n sighed, she didn’t want to cause any trouble. “It’s okay, I’ll just wait until everyone else is done.” She closed her eyes, she just wanted to get some sleep.

Since Don was no longer going on the patrol he had been ordered to get some rest which Y/n found a relief. But she was worried about the other men. This mission seemed pointless and unnecessarily dangerous. The looks on everyone’s faces when Webster and that new lieutenant had entered the room had been somber. And when Web had revealed that out of the fifthteen men, Heffron, McClung and Ramirez were definitely going, the mood had become even more grim.

“I’m afraid.” Y/n whispered, feeling brave with her eyes closed.

Don put his arms around her and gathered her into a hug, one hand coming up to stroke her hair. She let out a shuddering breath leaning in to him.

“This patrol is so unnecessary and I’m scared for the men going. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.” Her words came out muffled by his shoulder.

“I know.” They both knew there were no comfort to be found in empty promises. So he didn’t try to reassure her that everything would be fine.

Eugene Jackson was only 20 years old, and now he was dead. Y/n was sitting on a chair staring at his dead body. One escaped tear created a trail in the dirt that dusted her face. The only thing she could do was stare, they had all fallen silent, unsure what happens next. It seemed as if the silence stretched out, and when the air became too pressing, Y/n stood up without a word and left the room.

The midnight breeze did nothing to help her breathe. With shaky hands she lit a cigarette trying to calm her raging thoughts. She walked to the room where Don was sleeping and almost stopped when she realised that he didn’t know. He would blame himself, no doubt. Though her selfish need for him was bigger than the part of her who wanted to protect him by letting him remain unknowing at least for a little while longer. Y/n knocked on the door softly before entering without waiting for an answer. As she toed off her shoes she wiped away another stray tear before she lay down beside Don on the bed. He flinched a little when he woke, blinking as she came into focus before his eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong,” He shifted as his eyes searched her eyes, noticing the frantic look in them.

Y/n shook her head, pressing her face into his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of military soap and a little sweat. After a few calming breaths she lifted her head to look at him.

“Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now.” She was ashamed by how selfish that comment was.

Don looked confused, it wasn’t that the desperation in her voice was unheard of, but it was a strange thing to wake up to.

He lifted his hand to touch the side of her face. “Did something happen, Y/n?” The concern was clear in his voice.

Changing the subject Y/n stumbled over her words. “Tell me about when you knew you loved me.”

She could see the hesitation on his face but still he complied.

“It was just before the battle of Foy that it finally clicked.” He paused to stroke her hair. “In Ardennes, I couldn’t even think and when,” Don fell silent only for a second. “Muck and Penkala got hit, all I could think was that what if you were gone too.”

Y/n knew how hard losing his best friends had been for Don, especially when Buck left too. So talking about it was not something he tended to do. She reached out to show her comfort by squeezing his hand.

He let her take his hand without protest, giving her a half smile. “When I saw you after everything I felt like I could almost breathe again.”

Y/n remembered that moment, out of nowhere she had been engulfed in a tight embrace, and she had flinched in surprise before she got a glimpse of Don’s red hair which made her relax and spin around so that she could properly hug back. He had hid his face in the crook of her neck and although she would never bring it up she had heard and felt his tears against her skin.

“I didn’t want to have something happen to either of us without telling you.” He smiled then, properly, and although it was tinged with sadness, the happiness was there too. “And then you told me that you loved me, and you kissed me. I had never been so desperate for someone.” he smirked cheekily, “I felt like I was going to die, more than I had ever done in battle, and I just knew that this was something new, something I had never experienced before. So that was when I knew that I loved you.”

Y/n started crying then, it was only silent tears making their way down her cheeks, but since Don was facing her it was easy to tell. His small smile fell then, and he looked worried.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Y/n” He said it with his commanding voice, that he used whenever he had to order the platoon around.

“Jackson got hit by his own grenade.” She sounded cold despite the obvious the distress her tears was showing. “He’s dead.”

Again that awful pressing silence descended over the room.

Don broke it with a low “Fuck”.

Instead of saying anything else, he wrapped his arms around her and they just laid there in silence as the sun rose outside marking the start of a new day.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers imagines #donald malarkey #donald malarkey fanfiction

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notimetoblog · 6 years

Text

Summer Plans (End)

Summary: Planning a trip with Bucky takes a turn when someone new comes into his life. Will it all change or can you still manage to have the perfect summer you planned?

A/N : Here it is!!! THE LAST PART TO SUMMER PLANS. Thank you to everyone of you who has taken the time to read this story! I know this part took me a little longer but I became a bit stuck. Massive thank you to the wonderful @gottalovekidding who helped me become unstuck! The beginning is a bit suggestive, but no actual smut is included, just a lot is implied.Again, than you so much for the support of this story. I can never say enough how much it all means to me. Love you all and I hope you enjoy it!

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / PART 5 / PART 6 / MY STORIES

Everything was just perfect, and somewhere in the back of your mind the thought of next summer took on a brand-new meaning. You would be traveling not just with a friend, but with the man you had you had feelings for, the one who had feelings for you too, and you just couldn’t wait.

ONE YEAR LATER

You opened your eyes slowly, immediately covering them with your hands as the sunlight peaking through the curtains hit your still sleepy eyes.

You lay on your side, feeling Bucky pressed up behind you, separated only by the thin material of his t-shirt you were wearing. Through the material you felt the heat radiating off his bare chest. The comforting weight of his arm draped across your waist, almost lulled you back to sleep. You were never one to sleep comfortably in hotel rooms, always missing the comfort of your own home too much, but Bucky had made sure you had been more than ready to sleep throughout the entire night without waking up once.

You smiled as the events of last night played out in your mind. Your skin still tingling wherever he had touched and kissed you oh so softly. He had taken his time, drawing out the night until you were both exhausted. He had whispered as his lips traveled down your neck that he had to make sure his girl slept well after such a long day, and sleep well you did.

The day had been spent visiting a small town near the Grand Canyon. It was full of artisan shops and you both had taken advantage of the adorable souvenirs you found in those shops, crossing out the names of your friends as you bought gifts for each of them. Some, mainly Nat and Sam, were still giving you a hard time for completely leaving them out. You knew they were just teasing but you hoped they would move past it if you brought them nice souvenirs.

Yesterday had been amazing, but today was the day you had both been looking forward to for so long. Today was the day you visited the Grand Canyon.

You took in the hotel room as you slowly removed your hands away from your eyes. You had found yourself changing the reservations you had made at the hotels you were planning on staying throughout your trip. You had booked two rooms at every stop and suddenly you found yourself only needing one, not minding one bit sharing with Bucky.

The beautiful décor of the room in this hotel had made you both gasp as you had walked into the room a few nights ago. The large bed was covered in one of the softest duvets you had ever slept on with more fluffy pillows than you could have ever dreamed of. The soft blue hue of the room reminded you of the calming aura of Steve’s apartment. The cream-colored curtains were slightly parted, allowing the previously annoying sunlight to illuminate the room.

You stirred under Bucky’s heavy arm, turning to face him. His nose scrunched up a bit at your movements and you felt as the butterflies erupted in your stomach. You thought you had seen just how adorable Bucky could be, but that thought had flown out the window when you learned just how much more adorable he could be as he woke up. That had been a side of Bucky you had never seen when you were just friends, and now it was something you got to see more and more often.

“Hey Buck,” you whispered, softly moving strands of hair that had fallen on his handsome face.

You chuckled as he groaned and wrapped his arms around you, pressing your body close to his.

“Today’s the day, love,” you said, running your fingers through his hair, hoping this would wake him up.

“Five more minutes,” he said softly, voice still laced with sleep. You almost always caved to his requests, especially when they came in the low and raspy voice he had in the morning. But today it was important to stay on schedule. You had deviated from your itinerary a few times on the trip, much to Bucky’s amusement, but you would not be able to do everything you hoped to, if you let that happen today.

“Come on Buck,” you said a bit louder, “We won’t get to see anything if we stay in bed.”

“I wouldn’t mind staying in bed all day with you, sweetheart,” he said, a smirk spreading across his face as he blinked his eyes open to focus on you. “I’m more than happy with what I would get to see from here.”

You playfully swatted his arm getting a chuckle to escape from his lips.

“Don’t you start again, Barnes,” you mockingly chastised him. “We planned this for months and we’re going to stick to schedule today.”

You went to pull away from him but there was no way you could ever break his hold. Your movements were barely registered by his impressive arms.

“Convince me to get up then” he said, laughing at your attempts to get up from bed.

You smiled feeling heat spreading throughout your cheeks.

“What do you want?” you whispered with a smile, your hands running up and down his arm teasingly.

“Give me your most convincing kiss and I might get up from bed.”

You pretended to think about it, already craving his lips on yours.

“Let me think,” you said as he chuckled and leaned in closer, knowing you weren’t really considering denying him a kiss.

His lips captured yours, moving perfectly against them. You heard as a soft sigh pushed past your lips as he deepened the kiss. Your hands moved up to his hair, softly running through his long locks. Gently, he shifted you both, so you lay flat on your back and he hovered above you. He smiled as his lips moved towards your neck, first peppering your jaw with small kisses.

“Buck,” you whispered as you tilted your head to one side a lazy smile spreading on your lips, completely under his spell.

“I know,” he whispered, trailing his lips up your neck in search of your lips again. “Five more minutes,” he repeated.

It had not just been five more minutes, but you were by no means complaining.

After grabbing some much-needed breakfast, you were finally on the road. One step closer to the Grand Canyon.

“Ok, but what if we don’t like it?” Bucky asked, lowering the 80’s music playing in the car. He had one hand on the steering wheel, while the other rested comfortably on your thigh. He looked deep in thought, considering what he would do if he really didn’t enjoy it as much as he had hoped.

“Bub,” you said reassuringly, understanding that he had looked forward to this moment for a long time and the thought of it leading to disappointment was hard to avoid. You placed your hand on top of the one he had resting on your thigh. “It’s the Grand Canyon, we’re going to love it.”

He smiled, nodding his head and pulling the car up to the toll booth at the entrance of the national park.

After paying the toll you gave out a laugh, feeling excitement cursing through your body. Bucky chuckled as he saw you bouncing up and down his seat.

“We’re finally here,” you said with a beaming smile.

“Yeah,” he replied, a smile of his own spreading across his face. “Finally.”

After parking the car and forcing Bucky to follow you and apply sunscreen wherever his skin was exposed, he stretched out his hand for you to hold. You adjusted the backpack you were carrying and secured your camera around your neck and took his hand.

You walked towards the first lookout, taken by surprise as Bucky stopped suddenly before you got your first look at the Grand Canyon.

“Hey,” he whispered, pulling you back closer to him. “Let’s take a picture before we actually see it.”

You smiled at him, loving the idea of capturing the moment before what you had been waiting for came true.

You removed your camera from around your neck and handed it to him. Stretching his arm out he centered you both in the frame. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you close with one arm around your waist. You made bunny ears with your fingers behind Bucky’s head, laughing as he took the picture capturing his smile as he noticed what you had done.

You looked at the picture and fell in love with the moment Bucky had just captured. You both looked so carefree, laughing and smiling with just a peak of the Grand Canyon behind you. There were tons of other tourists crowding the background, but you ignored them only being able to focus on the happiness the picture had captured.

“I love it,” you said, staring just a little longer at the picture.

“Well, I love you,” Bucky said as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips, standing on your tiptoes to reach them.

“I love you,” you said. You noticed how soft his eyes looked. He had waited for so long to finally stand in front of the Grand Canyon and you were so thankful he had chosen to share this moment with you.

“Shall we?” he asked, quirking one of his eyebrows.

You responded with an enthusiastic nod of your head, causing him to chuckle.

Taking your hand in his once more, Bucky led the way to the edge of the first look out.

A large group of tourists stood along the overlook, Bucky quickly wove his way through them finding you both a perfect spot. He stood behind you, placing you in between his arms as he grabbed onto the railing that was directly in front of you.

As you took in the Canyon you heard Bucky gasp behind you. you felt as he leaned closer to your ear.

“There it is,” he whispered. You shivered, despite the heat, at his words.

“It’s absolutely beautiful,” you said as your eyes roamed throughout the Grand Canyon.

Its size was impressive. It stretched as far as you could see, in all directions. The beautiful tones of reds, browns, and purples caused it to look like a painting. You stood dumbfounded as if you were standing in front of an artist’s masterpiece.

“It just keeps going on forever,” Bucky again whispered into your ear.

You couldn’t help but note how he had created the perfect bubble amidst the sea of tourists. Him whispering into your ear blocked out all other sounds. The constant conversations happening around you were drowned out by his quiet and low whisper. The way he had caged you in with his arms at your sides, made it feel like this piece of the Canyon had been created just for you both. As if all the years it took for this Canyon to take its shape had occurred solely for you and Bucky to appreciate, today, precisely at this moment.

“I can’t look away,” you whispered back to him.

“It doesn’t look real,” he said with a smile, voicing your thoughts. “It was all worth it,” he chuckled. “Those months of planning, all those hours making reservations, then changing those reservations. It was all worth it to be standing here with you in front of this breathtaking sight.”

You smiled, remembering the look on Bucky’s face as you told him you had booked two rooms originally and had to switch your reservations to only one room. He had almost run away, having had enough of planning for the next century.

“Doll?” he said, gently turning you to face him. He leaned your back on the railing, eyes gazing into yours in a way that made you feel just as breathtaking as the Grand Canyon. “I know we just got here, but I want to come back next year and the year after that.”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. This magical place had certainly captured the heart of your boyfriend.

“I mean it,” he continued, pressing a quick kiss to your nose. “This is our place now. I want to come back here when there’s a ring around your finger”- he said as he brought your left hand up to his lips- “I want to come back here after I’ve seen you in a white dress. After we buy our first home. After we have our first child. I want to come back here after every milestone, because the immensity of this place reminds me of the immensity of my love for you. It reminds me of just how lucky I am because I get to call you mine. Reminds me how I get to share this perfect moment with my perfect someone. I want to come back here next year and the year after that, in the spring, summer, winter, or fall because I know that I’ll get to come back with you.”

You blinked your eyes quickly, trying to keep the tears from rolling down your cheeks.

Here you were, your back to the Grand Canyon and yet somehow your eyes were still focused on a masterpiece, on the man you were sure was the love of your life.

“Buck,” you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, unable to form the words that would truly convey all the emotions you felt. You nuzzled his neck, wanting to be as close to him as possible after hearing the heartwarming life he had dreamed up for you. “I love you so much,” you managed to say.

He tightened his arms around your waist, shielding you from the people around you, protecting the bubble he had created for you both.

“I love you, darling. Love you to pieces.”

He had been right. It had all been worth it. The waiting you had done, the heartbreak you had felt, the planning, the rearranging of details. It was all worth it because it had led to this. It had led to one of the happiest days of your lives, preceded only by all the milestones Bucky had so lovingly voiced. After each milestone you looked back to this moment, knowing that the Grand Canyon had truly become yours.

---

Bucky Tags (Love you guys!)

@camillechan @just-add-butter @buckyisthepuresthuman

@carry-on-my-fandom @creideamhgradochas @sixweekcure4dreams @verycoolveryunique @dugan365 @jitterbuck @buckysmusculararm @headinthe-fridge @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @hedwigthelegend @sappybarnes @sold-my-soul-in-2016 @coal000 @the-soldiers @natcad @winters-beauty @dixonsbugaboo @sawdustandsugar @silverbvcky @whyugottabsorude @theoutlinez @killjoynotes @agentpegcxrter @demonspawn2468 @mlehbleh @books-movies-eternal @buckysbeech @thefridgeismybestie @lionheo04 @pinkfairyfluff

“Summer Plans” Tags (Please let me know if you would like to move over to my Bucky list. THANKS FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT!!)

@sweet-barnes @angieptt @lilypalmer1987 @lordemjay @mlehbleh @steggy4ever @softhairbarnes @penderyspineapple @seargantbcky @justballoonfishthings @teamfreewill79 @bitchy-ginger-1 @dyanna-corona @ican-do-this-all-day @toews-a-peek @fadingculturemuffin @anamcg317

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #stories by notimetoblog

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kitlcuis · 5 years

Text

𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝

𝓌𝒽𝑜: kit louis & @juliivn 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒: apart 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃: sunday, 10 march 2019; 12:00 pm

The past week has been a fever dream of incomprehensible, fleeting images broken up by short bouts of vivid and terrifying clarity. During the latter the only thing Julian is aware of is the way his body shivers like he’s come down with hypothermia, the way his muscles scream in ceaseless agony, the cold walls and colder bed of his jail cell. Sometimes Kit seems to be there with him, most often smiling and asking to cuddle. Other times he’s crying, asking Julian why he’d decided to ruin both their lives. On a few occasions he’s woken from a fitful unconsciousness with his throat raw like he’d been screaming. He thinks often, when he’s lucid, about how he needs to call Kit. But it isn’t until he’s spent a week in his cell that he finally does it. He’s not allowed any semblance of privacy when he’s taken to the pay phones to make his call, but at least the guards give him space. At the first sound of Kit’s voice picking up on the other end, Julian’s chest goes tight and his throat swells. “Kit,” he says softly, like a plea. Forgive me. “It’s me. I got arrested last week.” A long pause. “They’ve been detoxing me. I’m so sorry I didn’t call.”

Caller ID states the Maryland Penitentiary and Kit's heart drops to the bottom of his stomach. Avoiding police involvement had been marginally successful. For as much as he wanted to file a missing persons case, he wasn't about to out himself and Julian for their occupation. It'd likely lead to a warrant rather than a helpful search team. His first thought is to which of his friends had snitched, taking Kit's sadness as their own personal invitation to seek out authoritative help. His second thought, however, is that he needs to answer now or else the call will forward. It's with a breathy and unsure voice that Kit accepts the call and queries a soft "hello?" before he's gifted with the one sound he's been wanting to hear since Julian's gone missing. "Baby," Kit croaks in a voice that's immediately thick with emotion, bordering on tears. He clutches to the phone so tightly his knuckles are colorless with tension and his knees go weak so that he's gracefully sinking into a sad little puddle on the floor of their apartment. "Are you okay? Can I come get you? Have you eaten? When can I see you?"

It hurts too much to think of Kit alone in their apartment and faring for himself, so Julian tries not to. He’s done enough of that the past week, anyway. He’s just glad to hear Kit’s voice, to know regardless of anything else, he’s alive and safe. For as many bad feelings as there have been between himself and Jax, Julian feels more than adequately confident Kit’s been able to rely on him for food and warmth and comfort. It’s exactly as painful as it is relieving. Still, the scared, mournful sound of his voice breaks Julian’s heart. “I’m okay,” he assures him, tipping his head against the prison’s concrete wall and closing his eyes. “Just tired. I haven’t gotten much real sleep.” Behind him, on another payphone, he can hear a man speaking in a low, gruff tone presumably to his lawyer. Julian huddles closer to his own, as if that will bring him closer to Kit and farther away from here. “Listen, I don’t have very long on here. I need you to do something for me.” This isn’t what he wants to be talking about. He wants to ask Kit a million questions, to satisfy his own need to know his fiancé is okay, but he quells it. “You need to call Danny, Kit, and ask him for the number for the lawyer he used when he got busted last year. Get an appointment as soon as you can. Then you need to call Aaron. You need to tell him what happened, and you need to...you need to ask him to wire you money for the lawyer.” He pauses. Clenches his jaw around a swell of shame and guilt. “You can come see me with him. He’ll be able to make sure I can see you in a room instead of through glass.” He goes quiet again, and then adds softly, “Can you do that for me, baby?”

Kit doesn't want to talk about Danny. He doesn't want to talk about Aaron or any calls he has to make. He especially doesn't want to wait to make said calls before he goes and sees his Julian. It's been over a week. He's not doing well without him. His lower lip quivers dangerously and he knows that Julian will be able to hear the fresh heartbreak in his voice. "Don't hang up," he pleads instead of acknowledging all of Julian's (admittedly reasonable and necessary) requests. "Please don't go." If he's at all upset that Julian doesn't seem to want to ask any questions born of concern in return, it's drowned out by the sudden panic that he doesn't know when he'll be able to call again, when they'll be able to talk. He needs to go down there. Now. "I can do that stuff," he adds as an afterthought, barely even registering to what he's agreeing. "Just don't leave me now."

The wavering tone of Kit’s voice and the sound of mingled panic and devastation he hears within it makes Julian feel sick to his stomach. He shakes his head as if the movement can dislodge the nausea, fighting back tears of his own not just because to give into them would mean to give into a whole slew of emotions he can’t face right now, but because to let the other inmates see him crying would mean getting the shit kicked out of him. Again. And anyway, he doesn’t want Kit to hear that. It’ll only make it worse. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, clutching the phone tightly against his ear. “I’m sorry, Kitten, I have to. I only get a couple minutes. I’m gonna see you soon, please don’t cry.” Two minutes, they’d told him. And it’s no matter of arguing for longer—the call will disconnect on its own. “The sooner you make those calls the sooner you can visit. I’m not leaving you. Never leaving you.” He pulls the phone away a second, takes a deep breath, and brings it back. “I’m almost out of time. Just one more thing, Kit.” His eyes close again. He tries to imagine the smell left on his clothes when Kit wears them. “There’s a couple hundred bucks stuffed in a pair of my socks. Find it, use it for whatever you need. Please take care of yourself until I’m home. Promise me.”

"No," Kit pouts as though the forcefulness of his sorrow can singlehandedly change Julian's mind. A couple minutes hasn't been enough. In fact, in some ways he thinks it's made things worse because now that he knows where Julian is, he has to imagine him there, alone, in a too-small jail cell without a too-small fiancé to cuddle. It's also hard in that he isn't sure how to get to where Julian is staying. How unfair to have his lover's location but to be unable to just go to him, to fling himself into his arms where he belongs. "I can't do it," he whimpers with a trembling sob that slips out despite his best efforts to keep things together. "I really can't do this. Not alone. Please?" It's not like the word will have any more impact now than when he'd said it last but his voice breaks on it this time around. He expects 'one more thing' to be 'I love you' and he poises to say it back; the money is a surprise. A couple hundred is definitely a surprise. Kit kind of hates that his first thought isn't rent nor food nor bills. Kit craves something the basic necessities won't cover and that kind of cash could very well do the trick. "You need to come home now," Kit warns brokenly, unable to keep from sniffling now that tears have slipped free. He can't care for himself, after all; turns out Jax was right. "I miss you."

Logically, he knows that Kit can do what he's asking, regardless of any claims otherwise--he also knows, however, that it's going to take a hell of a toll on him emotionally. The guilt tries to swallow Julian whole and again he pushes it back down. Later, when he’s hunched over in the corner of his cell, he’ll let it consume him for a while. He can deal with it then. Now, the most important thing is making sure Kit knows what he’s supposed to do so they can see each other in person. Hearing that Kit is okay isn’t enough; until Julian sees him, can physically hold him, that sick feeling of worry will remain. “I miss you, too,” he says softly, knowing even as he does that he’s being the worst kind of selfish. That’s nothing very new, though—when it comes to Kit, Julian has always been selfish. He can sometimes convince himself it’s best for his fiancé, having Julian around to take care of him, but standing here now with a prison payphone against his ear with a few large bruises littering his body and the sound of Kit quietly sobbing on the other end, it’s difficult not to stare reality in the face: were it not for him, Kit wouldn’t have been left alone for a week in a new city without a way to take care of himself. “Please, Kitten—I know it’s hard. I promise it won’t be much longer, you just have to do those things for me.” His knuckles tighten on the receiver and he does his best to drown out the noises around him, to savor these last few seconds of respite. “I love you. I’m so sor—” Before he can finish the word, he hears the line disconnect and with the sound comes a feeling of dread that washes over his entire body. Within moments a guard is already leading him away from the phone and back to his cell, and the only thing Julian has left is to hold onto the hope that Kit will do what he’s asked him to do. That this won’t be the thing that finally makes him realize he’d be better off alone.

The silence on the other end of the phone call is deafening and Kit can’t even wince at the cliche. He’s too busy trembling with an overflow of emotions he’s been suppressing since Julian’s disappearance, desperation topping them all and leading to him punching in the callback code knowing fully well his lover won’t be able to answer. He gets an error sound beeping jarringly in his ear but he tries again. Again and again, he dials with uncertain fingers, hoping that something changes -- he didn’t even get to say he loved Julian too. What if he doesn’t know? What if he doesn’t remember? How long has it been since he was in Julian’s arms -- a week? Two? Already, the clothes Kit’s been wearing are smelling less like his fiancé and more like himself. He hasn’t forgotten Julian’s love but in a place as barren and loveless as the inside of a jail cell, maybe memories of Kit were fading too? “No,” he creaks woefully as the call rolls over to a dial tone. Kit glares at it through the flood of tears painting tracks down porcelain skin before finally admitting defeat and hanging up altogether. He feels hollow; like someone went in and carved out all his insides -- everything that makes him feel bright and bubbly and warm. His hands shake as he lets the phone drop down to the mattress, feeling a cold settling in his bones that has nothing to do with the temperature of their apartment. He curls himself up small, fingers clasping tightly to wrists around tucked up knees, and mourns.

#para ft. julian.#really love contrasting the two posts in this tag

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