#enemies to lovers fic

[mediocre-daydreams]

the one where the protein shake plays matchmaker

pairing: bucky barnes x gn! avengers! reader

summary: you and bucky barnes can find any reason to hate each other. new york can find any reason to believe you two are together. when steve asks you to do a co-interview with bucky, the two of you are barraged by dating rumors that you vehemently deny and it breaks bucky’s heart. do you really find the thought of being with bucky so revolting?

w/c: 10k

warnings: angst with a happy ending! (it’s not a fluffy ending, but there’ll be more parts to come with the fluff u guys deserve.) bucky’s an asshole, ur an asshole, but bucky’s also vulnerable and insecure and ur so fucking confused, and sam was joking the whole time but damn it actually happened. not proof read!!!

a/n: this is the longest fic i’ve ever written i literally woke up this morning, sat at the kitchen table, and blacked out for the entire day until this monstrosity of a piece was produced. peace out.

it was all sam’s fault. (but isn’t it always sam’s fault?)

you were nursing a freshly brewed coffee, the top half of your body folded over tony’s white onyx dupont corian marble countertops—which he just had installed two weeks ago and would kill you if he saw how casually you were treating them—when sam called you from his spot on the couch.

“hey, get over here,” he snorted. “you’re gonna wanna see this.”

you made no effort to move. “i’m looking at you right now, sam.” it wasn’t a lie; your spot from the countertop gave you a perfect view of sam’s lounging profile as he pointed the remote at the TV, aggressively pressing the volume button so you couldn’t avoid at least hearing whatever news he wanted you to see.

“...and the former Winter Soldier, otherwise known as Sargent James Barnes, are taking the internet by storm as young fans flood social media with pictures of the two cozying up outside a local café after the Avengers returned from an appearance in Manhattan.” you could hear the smile in the reporter’s voice. “personally, i’ve been a believer since the park bench incident, but many twitter users are claiming this is the ultimate confirmation of their relationship.”

“okay, what the hell?” you abandoned your coffee, stalking over to where sam was sitting smugly. “you’re telling me that james fucking barnes is in a relationship? are we talking about the same barnes? tall, brooding, bitchy barnes?” you roll your eyes as you slouched into the cushions and nuzzled into sam’s shoulder.

“yeah, in a relationship with you, hon.” sam tilted his head, resting it atop yours.

“ha ha, it’s too early for your bad jokes and you already tore me away from my caffeine fix.”

you could feel sam shuffling from above you, his breathy laugh making you suspicious.

“i’m not joking—just look.”

“FINALLY,’ one twitter user says, in all caps. i mean, that much is obvious.” the screen flashes with images of you and bucky, the two of you making eye contact in battle, walking next to each other through times square, you tending to his wounds on the sidewalk, and what you imagine to be the park bench incident that one of the reporters referred to earlier—bucky and you practically nose-to-nose, his cheeks flushed and your eyebrows furrowed.

“what the fuck? what is this?” you throw yourself off sam, the top of your head slamming into his chin in your haste. sam clutches his jaw, groaning dramatically before he flings himself on top of you, one hand coming up to his forehead as he gasps, pretending to faint.

“you’ve killed me! oh, what will bucky say when he finds out the love of his life is a murderer? what will he do when you’re jailed for manslaughter?” sam cages you with his arms, grinning maniacally from his perch a few inches above your face.

“sam, what the fuck? what did i just watch?” before sam can answer, you hear a loud and familiar scoff from the doorway.

“nobody wants to watch you make out in the kitchen, princess. it’s making me lose my appetite.” bucky strides in and your scowl immediately deepens. you wrestle yourself out from underneath sam.

“how many times have i told you to stop with that? we’re not making out, so stop taking your hangriness out on me, gramps.”

“sure, that explains why he’s literally on top of you. god, i see you guys groping each other so often that the image is practically branded into my mind.”

“groping? grope- so you can’t get me out of your mind, is that it? perv.”

bucky doesn’t give you the satisfaction of an answer, but you take it to mean that you’ve won. “right, and now you’ve got nothing to say? good, because i can’t stand your stupid, grating voice criticizing everything i do.” you’re on the verge of getting up and shoving yourself in front of his aggravating face just to prove a point, but sam interrupts your thoughts.

“ah, a lover’s quarrel. what is it, 7:30? this has got to be a record.” sam whips his phone out. “smile for the camera! TMZ is going to eat this up. imagine the headlines! ‘trouble in paradise: avengers star crossed couple bickering after jealous tensions arise.’”

“jealous?” bucky sneers. “what have i got to be jealous of? you two are sickening.” you realize how closely you’re still sitting next to sam.

“you’re just envious because you haven’t gotten any since the 40s.” you scoot away from sam’s side, refusing to give bucky more ammunition. “admit it, you wish women liked you as much as they like me.” it’s a bit of a low blow, and you’re aware. since becoming a public feature amongst the avengers, patching up his reputation has been a slow process. meanwhile, new york adores you. you can’t go anywhere without people asking you for autographs and pictures, but you don’t mind. you’re honored that the city entrusts you with the duty of protecting them, so you figure the least you can do is repay them with these small requests and warm smiles. bucky, on the other hand, mainly receives nervous glances and parents pulling their children closer to their sides. on the off chance some giddy fan requests a picture, bucky glowers until they leave with dejection painted across their faces. it’s no wonder bucky hasn’t been on any dates.

“right, because i’m so jealous of all your tiktik edits. slow motion close-ups of your face and body in different colors? alright doll, i’m sure women eat that up.” he’d never admit it, but he has seen some of your edits, and if he were to be objective, they were quite flattering. but, if he was to be subjective, he’d never personally be attracted to them.

sam coughed, hiding a laugh and bucky’s mispronunciation of the social media app.

“you know what? enjoy your protein shake, or whatever it is that appeases your masculinity. your testosterone is giving me a migraine.” you’re out of the room in a minute, taking your frustration from the room. bucky’s moodiness still loomed.

“the sexual tension is off the charts,” sam teased. bucky tensed, freezing as he measures his protein powder. (you were right, he does drink protein shakes.) “why can’t you guys just fuck already?”

bucky stammered. the tips of his ears were heating up, and he thanked himself for not getting that haircut. his brown locks are shorter than before, but still tousled enough to cover his ears when he’s sporting bedhead. “sexual tensi- sam, are you insane? i’m not gonna fuck your girl.”

sam had the audacity to laugh. to guffaw. bucky turned around, his confusion evident.

“my- my girl?” he’s wheezing, clutching his stomach. bucky didn’t have time for this.

“yes, why-” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “why do you keep talking about your girlfriend like that? i know it’s none of my business, or whatever, but it’s disrespectful. and for your information, i would never feel that way towards her, so you don’t have to worry.”

“my girl. my girl!” sam caught his breath, exaggeratingly fanning himself. “she’s not my girl, bucky. my girl, holy shit. my girl?” sam’s in disbelief, repeating the words as if he’s trying to process the absolute ludicrousy of it all. “that’s… that’s kind of disgusting, honestly. she’s like, my baby sister. do you need to get your prescription updated? they’ve been my sibling since they started here. i’m pretty sure they got me one of those gag gift “best older brother” mugs at some point, it might still be in the cabinet.” he gestured to behind bucky, where the tower’s impressive collection of mugs was hidden behind sliding glass.

bucky dug through the treasure chest of porcelain. sure enough, there was the mug, hidden in the back and collecting dust. ugly comic sans spelled out “i love my big brother,” with a red heart in lieu of the word love.

“i- so you guys aren’t together?”

“god, no! do you know how much younger they are than me? well, actually, not by much. but young enough that i view them as practically a child.”

bucky couldn’t help the boil in his stomach at that. “they’re not a child, sam. they’re an adult, and very capable of pissing me off just like an adult. as much as i hate children, they’re not capable of being such bi-” bucky refrained from using the word ‘bitches,’ knowing of its dehumanizing undertones and historical abuse against non-male people, and had decided to remove it from his vocabulary all together. he had been reading modern books and recently, gotten into feminism. bucky was still an equal opportunity offender, though. he wasn’t sexist—he hated you just as much as he hated sam. he opted for insulting sam. “don’t be an ansshole, sam.”

“why are you so worried, buck? you want them all to yourself, don’tcha?”

“are you kidding me? i can’t stand them! they’re so- argh, they make me want to- god, they’re so mouth it makes me want to gag them.”

“kinky.”

“i swear to god, sam. you’re not going to live to see your precious sibling again because i am going to come and murder you.” he started towards the couch, fists clenched.

“wait! before you bash in my pretty face, i’ve got something to show you.” bucky couldn’t help his curiosity as he took the phone from sam’s hands. “it’s a tiktok edit, the type you were talking about earlier.”

bucky had never realized people made tiktok edits of him. he was secretly flattered. the video had captured his good side, too. “and this is relevant how?” sam didn’t need to answer, because a few seconds later, bucky’s eyes looked like they were bulging out of his head. the video had gotten to the slow motion bit, and you had come on screen. the video showed you grabbing bucky’s hand mid-battle to drag him out of harm’s way, sparkles and hearts fluttering around the two of you. it cut to another slow motion of you two sending a silent message as you made eye contact from across the street, and then the video zoomed in on both of your faces as the music crescendoed. bucky, utilizing his new knowledge of the modern world, tapped on the comments. they were flooded with bullshit messages like “the way they look at each other <33” and “i want what they have” and even “somebody run me over with a bus.” he didn’t understand the last one, but the first two confirmed his fears.

“sam, do people- do people think we’re together?”

sam chortled. “if by people, you mean all of new york, then yes.” bucky’s face turned beet red as he tossed the phone back to his annoying friend as if it were a hot coal.

“oh god, oh my god… out of everyone, it has to be them?”

“don’t look so disgusted, man. we all know you guys have the hots for each other.”

bucky was running his hands through his hair in distress as he paced. just then, wanda appeared, dragging natasha behind her as she chattered on about the new sneakers she was getting pietro as natasha suggested colors. “aw, bucky’s blushing! i saw that video of you guys on the news, it was really cute. congrats on finally getting together!”

natasha smirked, a little more perceptive than the optimistic wanda. “yeah, congrats. i’m guessing the make-up sex was good, then? i heard a lot of noise this morning.”

“we are not together!” bucky growled.

“huh, really? could’ve fooled me. your thoughts are so loud about her, bucky. i don’t mean to read them or anything, but sometimes they’re just so strong that i can’t help it. i thought it was because you really loved her, or something.” wanda smiled, completely oblivious. “it’s kind of romantic, honestly.”

“in love with them?” bucky looked horrified. “please, i can’t even look them in the eye. they make me sick. i have to hold back my puke every time i’m near them.”

wanda, simultaneously preparing an omelette for her and natasha, shrugged. natasha quirked an eyebrow.

“sounds an awful lot like butterflies, buck. just sayin’.” she and wanda were quick to return to cooking as bucky stood here, shaking his head in shock. him? loving you? loudmouthed, arrogant, know-it-all you? you with the savior complex and big heart? big hearts were a weakness. they made you vulnerable.

bucky squished his face together, sighing. “i’m done with this conversation,” he mumbled. he looked down at his protein shake, which had begun to warm up in his hand as he had neglected it in favor of talking about you. he couldn’t help it—you were just so infuriating, how could he not think about you?

--

it was all steve’s fault. (captain america was not the golden boy everyone made him out to be.)

“have you lost it? bucky and i, doing an interview? first of all, you know that he’s going to provoke me the whole time. we’re gonna be at each others’ throats, and is that really the image you want to project? that the avengers can’t even get along? and second, he’s not exactly the most well liked right now. no offense to you, steve, but not everyone can see bucky the way you do. it’s all so new to everyone, and to him too, and it’s a lot to expect him to represent us. you, more than anyone, should know how antsy he gets around cameras. all the questions are gonna make him uncomfortable, and let’s be realistic, they’re going to be invasive questions too. he’s literally just started therapy, and expecting him to uncover all the details of his past to be broadcasted to the entire nation is kind of fucked up.”

steve looked at you with a look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place, as if he knew something you didn’t. “i know it’s asking a lot of him, and you too, but i think this is really going to help. having him open up a bit is going to show the people that he’s not the winter soldier anymore, but that he’s bucky barnes, a former soldier and a hero. people adore you, and you know that. your presence is going to humanize him. if you guys could just get along for an hour, you could do wonders for his public image. and yes, i know he hates cameras. but part of his distaste is because he knows they’re going to pin him in a bad light, but with you by his side, this could finally be the chance for him to get some positive attention. and if the interview goes really well, i’m hoping that positive press can be more permanent.”

you sigh, running the pros and cons through your head. on one hand, you hated his guts. he hated yours too, and because of that, you didn’t owe him anything. he was a big boy, he could handle his own problems. plus, you didn’t want to play babysitter for him of all people. you knew that you’d both hate it.

but still, this was bucky barnes. he might be indifferent and rude and self-absorbed, but he was still just a man overcoming his trauma. you could understand that—he was a POW thrust nearly 80 years into the future only to be harassed and hated by the public. he deserved a little bit of peace, and if one measly interview could change the way people treated him, maybe it was worth it. it would be selfish, you thought, to let your own hatred for him prevent him from that opportunity for happiness that would finally come from positive public attention.

“fine. i’ll do it.” you steeled your jaw. “but it’s not for him. not whatsoever. i just- i pity him, that’s all. it must suck for everyone to think you’re a dick, even if you kind of are. but this is the only time i’m ever doing anything for him—i mean, with him—so don’t get used to it.”

“thank you,” steve took your hands in his large ones, fingers curling over your defeated wrists. “this means so much to me. this’ll mean so much to him, too.”

you turned on your heel, calling over your shoulder. “send me the information. and let him know not to get the wrong impression—i still hate him.”

steve chuckled, looking down at the ground with amusement.

bucky cursed the world when he heard the news. “with them? are you kidding me? the whole interview is going to be about how kind and selfless and universally adored they are, it’s not going to help at all! plus, we’re going to be at each others’ throats and then it won’t matter what kind of press i’ll get because i’ll be in jail for first degree murder, you punk! please, dear god, please cancel it.”

“i can’t cancel it, buck. it’s scheduled for tomorrow.” bucky groaned, running his hands down his face. “it’s only an hour of screentime, and you’ll probably only be with them for a total of three hours.”

“why are there two extra hours, then?”

“you’ll have to get ready, and then you’ll probably stay and talk with the producers afterwards. it’s only polite. it’s live, so the audience will most likely want to meet you too.”

“steve, as much as i despire dr. raynor, i’m going to tell her about how insufferable you are. maybe she can issue me a medical exemption, because there’s no way this could be good for my mental health.”

“sorry, bud. i actually talked to dr. raynor about this, and she thinks it’d be good for you to make a public appearance and get people to like you more. something about a weight off your shoulders and team cooperation or whatnot. plus, you know dr. raynor would probably end up scheduling an extra session with you if you bailed, so the interview is probably the lesser of two evils.”

“fine. you know what? fine. but if the devil reincarnated doesn’t come back unscathed, don’t blame me.” bucky hung up with an aggressive tap on his screen, muttering a string of profanities under his breath.

--

it was wanda’s fault. she insisted on styling you, putting you in this nice button down and helping you pick out a pair of cool patterned pants. you refused the loose tie, even though wanda said it made you look hot. “i don’t want to look hot, wanda. i just want to get this over with.” you whined.

“babe, looking hot will make it more enjoyable. just imagine how many memes they’re going to get out of this; don’t you want to look your best?” wanda giggled, admiring your face in the mirror as makeup artists powdered your nose. bucky sat in the chair next to you, absolutely silent, his face expressionless as stylists attacked him with hairspray to keep that slightly windblown look in place. you had to admit, he was pretty with his hair all natural, or at least, styled with the intention of making it look so. this was all objective observation, though.

one of bucky’s stylists called your name gently. “what do you think?”

“it’s lovely, you’ve done such a wonderful job,” you smiled, genuinely appreciative for their attentive care and hard work.

“thank you! but i can’t take much credit. your boyfriend is a natural beauty,” the stylist commented as he dabbed a bit of foundation on bucky’s cheeks. bucky choked a bit. “hold still!” the stylist chided.

your stylist laughed at his reaction. “and such a sweetheart too! he’s a real good one, held the door for me and everything. you’re a real delight to work with,” she looked towards bucky, who was bewildered. “don’t tell anyone i said this, but you’re a welcome change from the snobbish interviewees we usually get. please, feel free to get interviewed more often.” she winked, applying a sheen of tint to your lips, preventing your from interjecting.

wanda’s eyes twinkled. “they’re so cute, aren’t they?” she chirped. “have you seen that picture of them on the bench?” she held her hand up to her heart. “so precious!”

your lips were finally free. “we’re not toge-”

just your luck; you were interrupted. “five minutes to showtime!” a voice called from out of view.

“thank you, five!” wanda and the stylists called. your stylist fiddled with your hair before giving you a nod of satisfaction and shooing you and bucky out. you two stood by the small hallway by the stage entrance. his body was burly enough to take up more than half the space, and you were forced so close to each other that you could feel his breath on your face. you immediately recognized the nerves—you had worn that same expression before your first interview, and you had wrung your hands in the same way, and you had trembled under clint’s reassuring gaze before he had taken your hand and squeezed it in comfort.

you wanted bucky’s interview to go well. after all, you knew what it was like to be in his shoes. cautiously, watching yourself as you slowly extended your fingers and brushed them against his. he shivered, taking a sharp inhale of air and holding his breath. his hand was too big for you to nestle your fingers between him comfortably, so instead, you nestled your palm between his. fingers wrapping around the back of his hand and tapping rhythmically, your eyes flickered up to meet his once again. his blue eyes, which had previously been stormy and dark, had lightened somewhat as they bored into yours. your heart was pounding. when was the last time you had been so nervous to be on TV? you had become somewhat of a natural, and it was all second nature. you supposed the stakes were higher this time around. now, you had to keep an eye out for bucky, and you’d be damned if you did a bad job.

bucky’s gaze snapped to the door as your cue was called, and he let go of the breath he was holding as he tightened his grip around your hand wordlessly. you gave him a small smile, eyebrows pinching sympathetically as you read the trepidation in his expressive eyes. “you’re gonna do great. just follow my lead.” he nodded, clenching his jaw in determination as you headed on stage to the cheering of an audience. the loveseat was smaller than usual, and you and bucky’s thighs brushed against each other as you settled in.

“welcome, welcome! here they are, the couple of the hour!��� the crowd roared at that. your hand had begun to grow clammy, and you realized you and bucky had yet to let go of each others’ hands. you tore yours away from him quickly, wiping the perspiration on your pants as subtly as you could. you noticed his pang of hurt, quickly replaced by a fake smile.

“couple!” you laughed nervously. “i’m not sure how that rumor got started, but bucky and i are not together.” the host looked genuinely surprised.

“really? well, we respect your privacy 110%. celebrity dating can be complicated nowadays; have you seen megan fox and MGK? now that couple is the opposite of private.” you couldn’t help but laugh, breaking into another fit as the camera zoomed in on bucky’s puzzled face. you watched as he pursed his lips on the big screen behind the audience that allowed to you see how the interview was being broadcasted, which you were grateful for. you knew how notorious media could be about presentation—they could manipulate your actions and take your words out of context to frame the story in whichever way would bring in the most profit.

“so, sergeant barnes,” the host begun.

“bucky is fine.” bucky mumbled. you turned to him and mouthed “it’s okay,” and with a cute scrunch of his nose, he cleared his throat and repeated himself more confidently. “bucky is fine. ‘s what steve calls me; actually, most people i know call me that.”

“bucky, huh? now where do you get bucky from james?” bucky smiled, a true smile, as he recounted the origin of his name.

“well, james was a popular name back in the 40s.” there were a couple laughs from the audience as people remembered how old he really was—he had been adjusting to the modern look well, and with his trendy look courtesy of his stylist and timeless handsomeness, he looked as if he could be a celebrity of this time. “so steve got tired of all the mix-ups. don’t tell anyone this,” he mock whispered, holding his hand up to his mouth as he leaned over you to pretend to secretly speak the host. in the process, he had rested his hand on your thigh, gripping the softness of your skin for balance. “my middle name is buchanan. kind of embarrassing, right?”

he leaned back, removing his hand from your thigh without second thought. you were left a bit dazed, but as you blinked a few times to come to your senses, you retaliated by ruffling his hair and ruining his stylist’s hard work. “c’mon, winnie picked that one out for you. show some respect.”

he laughed, bringing his hand up to meet your own, patting it good-naturedly before removing it from the top of his head. “alright, alright. so steve took buchanan and turned it into bucky, and it’s stuck ever since. it’s a lot cooler than james barnes, and coming from the 40s, i think i need all the cool i can get.” the host chuckled, shaking his finger at bucky.

“you, my friend, are plenty cool. not sure how much you’re active on social media, bucky, but you’ve got quite the online presence.” the host pointed at you. “and you’re quite prominent on instagram, so i’m sure you’ve seen these.”

the host took out a top hat, with the base up, and you could see the folded slips of paper piled within. “would you do the honor of reading some of these out loud to us?” your face burned as you took the hat, sending the host a fake glare as you shook your head.

“you are so cruel.”

bucky was confused once more. “what is that?”

the host smiled mischievously. “that, my friend, is your online presence.”

you unfolded a slip of paper. “okay, this is a tweet from buckybarnesluver40” and it says,” you cleared your throat for dramatic effect. “all i want for christmas is for bucky barnes to crush me with his thighs,” you choked out as the audience screamed in approval. the camera zoomed in on you and bucky’s identical mortified expressions.

“hilarious! looks like the girlfriend’s not too pleased. another one, please, please!” the host said between laughs.

you reached your hand into the hat once again. “okay, another tweet. this time it’s from supersoldiersfan4life and it says “i would let bucky barnes use his knife on me in bed. i would kill to be-” your mouth dropped open. it was your name. “supersoldiersfan4life wants to be me?” you screeched.

“don’t we all? you two are the cutest. who agrees?” more screams from the crowd. more screams from within your mind. what was going on?

you swallowed hard, mustering up the courage to look over at bucky. he looked like he was receding into himself, his face a bright shade of red. you hoped you didn’t look as obviously flustered.

the host had the good grace to pluck the hat out of your hand, perhaps sensing the discomfort from both of you. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. we’re all dying to know the relationship details, but maybe that’s for another interview. for now, we’d love to know a little bit more about you, bucky. you’re a bit of an enigma.”

you were still reeling as the host asked you how you felt about bucky. “bucky, you’ve just moved into stark tower, haven’t you? can you let us know how he’s settling in? what’s the general vibe around there?”

you hesitate, not sure how to answer. obviously, you couldn’t just tell a live broadcast how much you hated the man, but you were a notoriously horrible liar. luckily, people got a kick out of your bluntness. but now wasn’t the time for that, not when you were here to try and improve bucky’s reputation. “uh, he’s a great guy, you know? i… he made a great first impression.” you didn’t need to look at the screen or bucky to know that his face was twisted into one of great surprise.

it was true, though. when you first met him, you had thought that he’d be an immediate friend. you admired how willing he was to adjust to the social norms of the 21st century, and how respectful he had been when you showed him around the tower and let him peek into your bedroom. you liked how he made eye contact with you and treated you like an equal rather than assuming you were inexperienced and incapable simply because of your age. and though you hated to admit it, you had fallen for his charms and silly jokes for the first few days you knew him—the first few days of friendliness before he decided he couldn’t stand you and before you two started an intense mutual hatred.

“you know, he’s reading all these books about cultural literacy and societal reform, which i really admire. lot of the titles came from my recommendation list, which i gave him within the first few days that we met. i have to say, it really strokes my ego every time i catch him reading the feminist literature i recommended.” the host looked surprised, but delighted. “yeah, it’s wonderful, isn’t it? he’s gone through so much, and yet he’s still so open-minded and willing to adjust to this century, which i imagine must be hard. he really is incredible.” the fondness is evident as you talk about him. you hadn’t even realized, but at some point, your body had turned away from the host and audience and begun looking at him, eyes soft as you spoke directly to the man you despised.

bucky’s eyebrows were furrowed, as if he couldn’t comprehend such kind words being meant for him, much less in front of a live audience, much less coming from you. “no, they’re too kind. they’re lovely but apparently a complete liar, because i am not what they’re making me out to be. trust me, i’m a menace to live with. i make protein shakes at 7:30 in the morning and tony’s blender is loud. you’d think for a billionaire, he’d be able to find some sort of silent one, but the man insists on the industrial-strength model. apparently, it’s the only thing that can properly mix his milkshakes.” the host laughs, as does the audience, and a screen rolls down from behind the two of you.

“we’ve actually got a video of that blender for you all, sent in by none other than the falcon, sam wilson, himself! let’s take a look.”

the video starts and the two of you share a knowing look. your eyebrows are raised and bucky’s eyes are comically wide.

“james buchanan barnes, if you don’t turn off that blender right now, i will shove your hand in there and you can find out just how much protein is in human flesh.” your frustrated voice sounded from offscreen, and as bucky stopped blending and turned around, you came into frame. you donned a pair of falcon pajama bottoms, with redwing patterned all over the navy blue fabric. they were a gift from sam last christmas, and had quickly become a favorite.

“yeah, and what are you gonna do about it, princess?” he crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one foot as you faced him, chest to chest. the camera shook as sam’s muffled laughter layered over your argument.

“motherfucker- i told you not to call me that!”

“you’ve got quite the mouth, haven’t you, love? someone ‘outa shut you up. and look, i’m right here!” he gestured to his body, smirking.

“don’t flatter yourself. i’d rather drink your nasty protein shake before kissing you.”

“now, who said anything about kissing?”

the camera trembled violently and sam’s laughter cut off abruptly as the video ended. you were hiding your face in your hands as bucky looked in the opposite direction of you, body facing the audience and head lowered.

“oh god, you are evil!” you teased the host, trying to salvage your dignity with feigned nonchalance. “we should’ve never agreed to come here.”

bucky twisted around, shaking his fist jokingly as he attempted to salvage just the same. “you’re killing me, man. i’d rather talk about HYDRA than relive these moments.”

the host leaned forward, elbows resting on the wood as the audience’s laughter slowly faded.

“yes, if you’re comfortable discussing your experiences as the winter soldier, we’d love to learn more. it seems like there’s a lot of misinformation and contradicting stories floating around, yes? do you have anything to say about all the hate?”

bucky sighed, scratching the back of his neck before getting comfortable and slinging his arm around the couch, arm brushing your back. “it’s still hard to talk about, especially when people already have their own perceptions of me and the winter soldier. but i want to make it clear, the winter soldier is a completely different person than bucky barnes. we might have shared the same body, but i had no control when the winter soldier was activated. that was all the fault of HYDRA programming and brainwashing. i’m also still learning to forgive myself for my past, but what i’ve been reminding myself is that i’m not a criminal, i’m a survivor of war. i’m still sargent barnes, who fought in WWII and lived through HYDRA kidnapping and experimentation. i guess, in some way, i’m a- a victim. and it’s hard to say that, because there’s a lot of vulnerability in admitting that you were completely powerless in a situation, but i really believe that’s the truth. and i’m hoping other people can see that as the truth as well.”

the crowd was silent, with nothing more than murmurs reaching your ears. the host was solemn. “thank you, bucky. and if it’s any consolation, everyone here in this room supports your recovery and believes in your innocence. i think the world is beginning to come to its senses as well.” you and bucky both smiled, and there was a lift in your heart that you couldn’t quite place.

“and through it all, he’s been a selfless advocate for children with prosthetics just like him.” you added, thinking back to something steve had mentioned a few weeks ago. “he volunteers at a physical therapy center and talks to the kids there; says he doesn’t need any money or credit for it, and that helping a kid out of the darkness that comes with losing a limb is enough payment for him.” you looked at him, biting your lip as it began to tremble. why were you so emotional? you squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to cry on live television.

“that’s incredible, bucky. you really don’t give yourself enough credit for all the amazing work you’ve been doing.” the host nodded gratefully at bucky, and from the audience was a shout.

“we love you, bucky barnes!” the rest of the audience burst into laughter, as did the host. you gave bucky a watery smile, and he returned it with a gentle look of his own, lips curling ever so slightly.

“on that heartfelt note, we’re unfortunately out of time, so please give it up for our two avengers!” you and bucky waved as you shuffled off stage, desperate to get away from the cameras to comprehend what had just happened.

“what the fuck was that?” you whisper-shouted, looking at bucky with something akin to terror.

“i have no idea,” he hissed, eyes darting around the hall. the two of you walked hastily, hoping to escape the studio before paparazzi and fans could cage you in. “did you tell people we were together?”

“me? why would i do that? i would never date you. that’s totally ridiculous,” you sputtered, face flushing. you would never hold his hand unless you absolutely had to, just like today, when you had to calm him down because you would be completely embarrassed if you had to do an interview with a nervous bucky barnes. it would’ve been completely distracting, having to sit next to him where he did that self-soothing thing with his hands, and then you would have had to grab his hands in front of everyone to stop him, which would’ve been even more embarrassing.

“are you blushing? ew.” he picked up his pace and you jogged to catch up with him. the two of you were nearly at the exit, and you realized that if you let him get away, you’d never be able to finish the conversation. he’d just ignore you until you inevitably got into another fight, as it always went.

“why are you so horrible?” you asserted, a little hurt at the jab which seemingly came out of nowhere. “i just did you a huge favor! do you think i wanted to do this interview with you and get completely humiliated in front of an audience? why do you have to be so crabby all the time?”

“humiliated? is it so humiliating to be seen with me?” he spat, spinning around and stopping in place. he grabbed ahold of your forearms to stop you from crashing into him. his hands, warm and calloused, pressed into your skin and grounded you. “everyone loves you, you’re such a perfect princess, aren’t you? you don’t want to be associated with the winter soldier, is that it? you’re so obsessed with what people think of you that you can’t even bear the thought that, god forbid, you’re dating me? and everyone’s telling me i deserve love and i’m trying, holy shit, i’m trying so hard to believe that. but it always comes back to you—you treat me like shit and now i see it. you still think of me as a murderer, don’t you? the idea of loving me is so outrageous that you couldn’t even look at me during that video. and you’re cruel, you know that? you’re cruel to look me in the eyes as you lie through your teeth, saying all these- these things about me when we both know they couldn’t be further from the truth. you just have to rub it in, don’t you? isn’t it enough that the world hates me? you just have to take it a step further, telling everyone all the things i do in private and then shoving it in my face that all of that kindness is just an act for the cameras!”

you wanted to yell at him for being self-deprecating, but his accusation of your character had pushed you over the edge. “goddamn it, barnes! you think the world revolves around you, don’t you? everything’s about you and the fucking winter soldier, and yeah, i get it, you went through shit! but don’t you dare attack my character when i have done nothing but try and be nice to you! do you remember when you came to the tower for the first time? i tried to be your friend until you decided one day that you were going to hate me for no reason—did you expect me to just shut up and take it? you don’t get to treat me like shit and then get mad at me for retaliating. you know, when steve asked me to do this, my immediate response was no. but even through all of this,” you waved your hand between the two of you, voice hoarse from the yelling. “i still care about you.”

“you care about me?” bucky’s voice was small, and his fingers pressed harder into your forearms. you winced, not being able to stand the super soldier’s strength any longer. his face fell as soon as he saw your expression of pain, dropping your arms immediately and backing up.

“i- look,” he started. you put your hand in the air.

“you know what? save it. yes, bucky, i care about your wellbeing because i respect you. and for a moment, i thought you might’ve respected me too-”

“i do respect you, it’s just-”

“shut up! you treat me like my existence offends you, and if you can still find a reason to hate me after me doing this interview and saying those things about you and trying to help you, then i give up. you think so lowly of me that you can find it in yourself to accuse me of all this and that’s only proof that you have no respect for me. and if that’s the way you want to play it, fine. i don’t care about people who can’t even treat me with decency.” you spat, furious.

you yanked the door open, storming out. your initial plan to avoid the crowd was out the window; fans swarmed you and cameras flashed as you shoved your way through the horde, not caring about your usual reputation for kindness towards your admirers.

bucky was hot on your tail, and you could hear his loud footsteps as he tried to catch up with you. he’d screwed up bad this time, hadn’t he? he’d screwed up your entire relationship and any possibility of neutrality since the beginning—you hadn’t done anything. it had been entirely his fault, and he’d been too childish to make amends. but he’d crossed the line today, and he knew it. he cursed himself, knowing he’d most likely lost you forever. all that bickering the two of you had? that’d be gone too. from now on, you probably wouldn’t even waste a breath on him. he was going to be nothing to you, but that was assuming he ever meant anything to you at all.

“wait, please,” he called. he could’ve easily caught up to you and pinned you against a wall to force you to talk to him, or pinned you against a wall and finally get a good look at your face and maybe even catch another sight of the smiles you had gifted him with back when you were on that loveseat and before he had fucked everything up. but he knew you’d hate that. he knew you’d hate him for taking away your autonomy, for ignoring your decision to leave, and for abusing his super-soldier status to get what he wanted from you.

“please, i’m sorry, just let me talk to you,” he pleaded, voice cracking with desperation. this was it. you were never going to talk to him again. he hated you, he really did, but he was not going to let one stupid comment ruin everything between you two. he was dumb and stubborn and full of himself, and you deserved nothing that he had done to you, but if you were going to ignore him for the rest of your lives—which he prayed would not be the ultimate outcome—he needed you to know that you hadn’t done anything wrong. he owed that to you, at least.

he lost you at the tower. you had gotten to the elevator before he had even stepped foot in the building, and he sprinted up the stairs, hoping to catch you before you left. he practically flung himself into the kitchen, knowing the first person you’d go to would be sam, who had been living on the couch recently, binge-watching toddlers and tiaras.

“woah, bucko, whatcha up to there?”

“i need to see-” he panted, looking around for you frantically.

“ah, i see. finally ready to confess your love for them, aren’t you?”

bucky paused. he stopped and he thought. he really thought this time, his face scrunched in concentration. he looked at sam incredulously.

“i- something like that, actually.” the two men both were both shocked into silence.

“uh, right! okay. they’re, um, in their room. not looking too great.” sam stared at bucky, eyes bugging. “good luck? i mean, i just- okay. Yeah.”

bucky pursed his lips, giving sam a curt nod before gathering the strength to make his way to your room. his heart was in his throat, and he thought there was a good chance that the moment he saw you, it would jump right out of his throat and land on the floor at your feet. now that would be humiliating. and it would also kill him too, but maybe that was a good thing because it meant he wouldn’t be alive to face you again.

his fist hesitated in the air as he stood by your doorway. he was sure you were aware of his presence; he wasn’t exactly a light treader. he knocked, holding his breath.

“fuck off, barnes.”

“i can’t. i have to talk to you.”

“you don’t have the right to demand anything from me. go away.”

“i can’t, i ha- you don’t have to talk to me, but please, can you just listen?”

bucky didn’t hear anything from your side of the room, which he took to be affirmative. “i- i’m sorry. i’ve been an asshole.”

you snorted mirthlessly, and he could imagine the look of repulse on your face. “to put it lightly,” you sneered.

“yeah, i know, and it’s not your fault, you know. you can hate me all you want from now on, and i deserve it. i know i deserve it, and i’m not going to try and change your mind. i just need to tell you that it wasn’t your fault. me hating you, i mean. i mean, i guess i never really hated you, it was just that, i guess-” he sighed, thoughts racing too fast to be able to articulate. “i can’t speak. you drive me insane, and i-”

“gee, thanks, barnes. way to apologize.”

“no! i don’t mean it like that, i just- i’m so sorry, please just, can you let me in? i can’t do this from outside. i know you said i didn’t respect you, but that’s not true. i respect you, and that’s why i want to say this to your face. please.”

bucky heard shuffling from behind the door. it swung open. there you were, looking small and defeated, as he towered over you like some absolute jerk. he shrunk himself, wishing for once that he could be smaller. he observed your face like he had wished he could earlier. your eyes were red-rimmed—had you been crying? you were sniffling softly, rubbing your nose. there was a tissue box on the bed and a few used bundles scattered around the floor. a thin blanket, too, was crumpled and lying on the ground. his heart broke. he stood by the doorframe, not sure what to do. you motioned to the bed, taking a seat on it yourself. the mattress sank as he placed himself a good distance away from you, but still, he turned and forced himself to look into your eyes.

“i didn’t know what to do when i first met you,” he rushed, the words flooding out of his mouth quicker than he could process them. “you were so kind to me. too kind. i didn’t think i deserved it, and i was terrified. you were… perfect. steve, my best friend, he adored you. i saw you two together all the time, and you made him laugh like i used to do. and after all steve did for me, all i could do was recluse myself in my room and give him one-word answers. steve didn’t know what to do, and as much as he tried, i could tell that he was growing tired. he’s got a lot going on, and i don’t blame him for not wanting to babysit all the time. but you were there, and you didn’t even treat me like a pity case. you weren’t some babysitter, you were my friend. my only friend, probably.” he looked at his lap, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

“um, i really appreciated that. i don’t think i’d had such a connection to anyone since the 40s. since steve and i met. and-” he covered his face with his hands. “this is so embarrassing, i’m- i’m sorry. i think i liked being around you… too much. and i was, well, me. and you were there, like some angel, making my life better, no, making everyone’s lives better, and i was this weight taking up all your time. and i knew that i’d be lucky if you ever even considered me a friend. i’d be lucky if you could even tolerate all my problems for more than a few weeks, so i never pushed it.”

you opened your mouth to speak, but bucky waved his hands furiously, finally meeting your eyes.

“please, just let me finish. and you can say whatever you want after.” your mouth shut, as did your eyes, as you tried to follow his words. “and you know sam and i have our own thing going on,” bucky laughed bitterly. “he didn’t trust me at first. still tries to get on my nerves now. we respect each other, of course, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s a little shit. sorry.” he shot you what you thought was an apologetic look, maybe because he knew you and sam were close.

“he was cold to me at first, and i couldn’t handle it. it was like being back there, having everyone talk to me in clipped tones as if i wasn’t there. there were some days where he wouldn’t address me at all. i don’t blame him, i guess. tony was suspicious too. you guys gave me so much more than i deserved. but with you, he was like a completely different person. you guys are so close, you know? you guys are like how steve and i used to be, before i came back all fucked up. i don’t think steve and i will ever have what we used to have, or will ever have what you and sam have. and i think- i think i was… jealous. it wasn’t just because i wanted my friendship with steve back, but because i wanted a friendship with you. no, that’s not it at all. i’m sorry, this isn’t easy for me—feelings, i mean—i’m trying, i’m trying for you. i wanted something else, something more with you. because i really liked you, and it took seeing you and sam together to realize that. i had thought you two were together-together; you were so close. and i hated myself for feeling that way towards sam’s girl, because as much as i couldn’t stand him, i couldn’t do that to you. even if i told you, it wouldn’t have changed how you felt. at that point, it was too late. i thought you were already his.

“i couldn’t burden you with my feelings, you know? i couldn’t drag you into my mess. so i tried to ignore it, and it didn’t work, because you’re fucking magnetic. you were all i could think about, and i was such a mess for you, and even then, you didn’t care. i was so incapacitated around you,” he sighed, remembering all the times he had embarrassed himself trying to compose himself around you. “and you never noticed. you never looked my way, did you? it was always about sam. i was like some second thought—not that it was your fault. i barged into your life and took up all your time and you still treated me with such kindness and i started to resent you for it. you couldn’t love me, not when you had sam, but you still had me wrapped around your finger and i’d never felt this way before so i panicked. i panicked and retreated to something familiar, which was hate. i decided i hated you.

“so… well, you know the rest. i was so stupid; you made me so nervous and i blamed it on frustration, and you made me feel and i blamed it on anger. it was torture, having to hate you. but if i wasn’t hating you then i’d have to cope with how much i liked you, and that was worse. i’d take whatever i could have, and if that meant having you yell at me and poke my chest and take my breath away, i’d have to be satisfied. but today, you said all those things about me. you ruined all that progress i had made, trying to hate you. it ruined me, all over again. and did you mean them? did you mean them, because if you didn’t i wouldn’t blame you. but i just have to know.”

“i meant every word,” you breathed, so quietly that you were afraid bucky wouldn’t hear. he did, and instead of relief, a look of devastation washed over his face.

“i can’t- you can’t just say those things. this whole time, i thought you loved sam. and i thought i never even had a chance because it didn’t matter how much i loved you when your heart belonged to somebody else. and sam told me you aren’t together, and it doesn’t even matter anymore, because i still don’t have a chance with you, or even a chance of forgiveness; i don’t deserve it—not after everything i’ve done to you.”

you’re sniveling, wiping your eyes with the edge of your sleeve. bucky’s got tears running down his cheeks, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him since he had first come to the tower and had let you comfort him after he woke up from his nightmares. you hadn’t seen any other emotion from him but hatred since then.

“bucky…” you can’t control your arm as it reaches for his face. your hand cups his chin, stubble rubbing against your palm as he closes his eyes and savors the feeling of your skin on his, knowing it’s more than he deserves. your thumb wipes away the tears as they trickle from his closed eyes; they flutter as your fingers move across his skin, sensitive from the emotion. there’s a tear that’s fallen into the corner of his mouth, and you run your finger over his lip to brush it away. he sighs, and the warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine. you’re buzzing with adrenaline.

“bucky, you are such an idiot!” he flinches, looking guilty, and you lower your voice. “no, i don’t mean it like that,” you soothe. “why didn’t you just- do you really mean what you said? that you thought you were a burden? and back there, at the studio, did you really think that i would be so horrified at the idea of loving you? because you’re wrong, bucky, if you think that’s how i feel—god, you’re so stupid and you’re so wrong.” you sniffle, running your hands through your hair. “if you had just told me…”

“i know, i know, and i’m so sorry.” he’s trembling now, sounding on the verge of tears, and you think he might combust with the violence of which his hands are shaking. you take his hands in yours, stopping him from doing the wringing he always does.

“bucky,” you whisper again. it’s the only thing you can think to say before throwing yourself into him, your arms wrapping around his broad back with your hands unable to touch. you use the opportunity to run them up and down his back, your head finding a home in the crook of his shoulder as you try not to ruin his shirt with your tears. one of his arms wraps around yours tentatively, as if he’s afraid to touch you. you bury yourself deeper into him, one hand clutching the fabric of his shirt as if you’re scared he’s going to run away.

“bucky, please don’t leave me,” you whimper, your lips brushing against his neck. that does it for him, and he finally wraps both arms around you and lifts you up until you’re seated on his lap. his feet touch the floor as he’s seated at the edge of your bed, and your legs wrap around him as you face the opposite direction, clinging onto him koala-like.

“i’m never leaving you. i’m never leaving you,” he mutters, and you’re not sure if he’s saying it to you or to himself. “you’re here. i’m here.”

“all i wanted was for you to stay,” you confessed. “and then you left me, and then you hated me, and how was i supposed to cope? i thought i had done something horrible but i couldn’t figure out what, and still, you were so kind to wanda and so cheerful with clint and even opening up to natasha and it was like those first weeks of us being together never happened.” you pulled yourself away from his shoulder to look him in the eye.

“i- i didn’t know.”

“obviously.”

the two of you were silent for a bit, trying to read each others’ eyes, both of which were puffy and red. bucky’s face was in its usual furrow, the line between his eyebrows deep. you smoothed it out with your finger. “your worry wrinkle,” you laughed wetly. he cracked a smile.

“the one thing i didn’t miss was you calling it that.”

“you missed me? ha. softie.”

the two of you breathed in silence, faces inches from each other. his eyelids fluttered, and it was as if you could feel the ghost of his eyelashes tickling your warm cheeks. you could smell the man you had been missing—smoke, cedar, and spice. you refrained from burying your head in his chest and just drowning in the scent of his cologne.

your eyes fell, looking at your thighs wrapped around his hips and watching his chest rise and fall like a metronome, his breaths finally slowing alongside his heart. “i never hated you, you know. i’m pretty sure i made that clear today. at least, i hope i did.” you sighed, still not meeting his eyes. “i hated the fact that you hated me. i guess i wasn’t used to that. i mean, you’re right. i really do want everyone to like me,” you pursed your lips. “and i know that’s unrealistic. but i liked you a lot, bucky, and i thought at first that we could be good friends. so when things started breaking down, i guess i jumped to the conclusion that you just irrationally had it out for me, and i never stopped to ask you why. and i’m sorry too.” you swallowed thickly, realizing how much anger could’ve been avoided these past few months if the two of you had just pushed aside your egos and communicated.

“look at me, please.” bucky cupped your chin with his hand, lifting your face without much force to let you be in control until you finally met his eye. “hey, it’s- we’re gonna be okay.”

“you said you loved me,” you blurted. “earlier.”

“uh, yeah. i did say that.” you were so used to bucky deflecting from his feelings that his admittance made you laugh. oh yes, you laughed. the bashfulness on the 6-foot-something, genetically enhanced, burly, brooding super soldier’s face was enough to break the stoicism of your conversation.

“you love me!” you giggled. “i’m so sorry, i’m not laughing at you. no, i swear, i’m so- this isn’t me mocking you, i-” you gasped for air as the sentiment finally set in. “buck, you love me?”

“yeah, doll, i do. is… is that okay?”

“yeah, bucky, it is.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x gn!reader #bucky barnes self insert #marvel self insert #marvel imagine #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky angst #bucky and reader #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers fic #bucky barnes enemies to lovers

[intothewestwing]

chapter 2: batb rewritten

Beast wasn't expecting Lumiere to be correct when he suggested that the old man would have someone looking for him. In fact, the last thing he'd expected was a girl. No, not a girl, but a young woman. From the window, he watched as she explored the castle grounds. Her horse, wretched thing, led her right to his doorstep.

She crept in through the front gate, then through the gardens, and entered the castle with no hesitation. A bold move, for an uninvited guest. But the creature had already met where she learned that from. Her confidence and arrogance taunted him, even made the Beast curious. And as she stalked through the castle and up to the dungeons, the Beast followed, not far behind.

He examined her from afar. She had a small frame, and she was fair skinned, her cheeks flushed from the coming winter winds, and her hair was a shade of chestnut. Though she'd had it pulled back, strands of it framed her face. She was disheveled, as though she left her home in a hurry. The Beast found it annoying, yet again, that the candlestick was right.

Whispers in the seemingly empty hallways led her straight to the dungeons, the air growing colder as the staircase led the unknowing duo into it's depths.

The young woman called into the dark of the dungeon for her lost loved one. Of course it had to be her father. And from that darkness, a husky voice answered, almost surprised.

"Belle?"

The Beast waited for her to move toward him before silently slipping into the shadows of the room. The stone floor was cold against the pads of his feet, and the autumn breeze blowing through the window didn't help either. He did his best to shrink himself into his cloak. Though, he was not alone here. The various statues carved into each plinth, the gargoyles that rested among the various sconces and trimmings of the castle were very much alive. And he could feel their cold eyes watching him as he watched the intruders, in turn.

The father and daughter spoke in hushed tones. The man, terrified, while the woman, accusatory and worried. He watched them for only a moment, moving around the room to try and get a better view of them- before mistakenly bumping into one of the empty sconces against the wall. Shit.

Their voices stopped, and the daughter turned to face the void of shadows behind her.

"Who's there?" The Beast didn't dare to answer. Not that he was afraid, of course. He was no longer of royal status. What exactly was he, to her? Other than the captor of her father.

The daughter raised her voice. "I know someone is there. Who are you? Reveal yourself!"

Her arrogance mocked The Beast. Title or no, this was still his castle and under his command.

"The Lord of this castle." He growled under his breath as the words slipped from his mouth, his voice deeper than he remembered.

The daughter raised herself up onto her knees, searching the dark for any form or figure to blame.

"So this is your doing? My father is wrongfully imprisoned! Release him at once!"

Not only was she the daughter of a thief, but she was a fool as well, The Beast thought. The tame growl that sat in the back of his throat let itself loose, before challenging the girl.

"Perhaps you did not hear me. I am the Lord of this castle, where you have no power here."

Her confidence simmered as she sat back down onto her legs, unsure of what to make of the voice that challenged her.

"Forgive me," Her voice shook, but only slightly. "I've come for my father. Has he committed a crime?"

"Yes." The Beast hissed as he began pacing the edges of the dungeon, keeping his eye on the girl. "He is a thief, and he will rot in my dungeon forever as punishment for what he stole from me."

"It was only a rose!" The father cried, before falling into a coughing fit.

The Beast scoffed, until the confidence grew again in the daughter's voice. "A life sentence for a rose? Are you insane? I'm the one that asked for-"

"I received eternal damnation for one! He can spare the rest of his petty life."

Her confusion left the daughter in silence. She rested her hands over her father's through the bars.

The Beast's patience was growing thin. He shouldn't have to explain himself to a mere commoner, he thought. With a deep exhale, and the silence between the hanging in the air, he raised his chin in triumph. "Throw her out and leave her to the wolves." He spoke to an unknown force, the eyes of the stone surrounding them.

These amalgamations of what used to be castle staff came to life within the stone and, struggling to carry their own weight, crept over toward the young woman, who now clung to the metal bars of her father's cell. She watched in horror and released a terrified screech before pleading for them to stop, their cold stone hands restraining her by her upper arms. Her father coughed and wheezed as he begged for her release, reaching through the bars for her.

"Wait! No! Please!"

The daughter quickly learned that the more she restrained them, the stone wasn't like human skin and muscle- it did not move with her. Even with the stone scratching her arms, she still reached for her father as the statues slowly dragged her towards the door.

"I'll do anything! Please!"

"There is nothing you can do." The Beast responded, clearly out of patience.

"I said please!"

"I said there is nothing you can do!"

Then the daughter said something he didn't expect.

"Take me instead!"

The Beast raised an unseen hand, that stopped the stone servants in their tracks. They waited for his command, as he decided what to do next. They, as well as any of the inhabitants in the castle knew what having a young woman around could mean for them. And though their stone faces didn't change, there was a split second of hope shared between the servants and their Prince.

He couldn't deny that he felt it too, no matter how far away that hope felt.

With a hesitant breath, he asked for clarification.

"You would do that?" His cold breath visible in the air as he stepped closer to the scene. "You would take your father's place?"

"If I did, would you let him go free?"

You must gain her trust, he thought. She would never set you free if you didn't do the same for her now.

"Yes."

"Unharmed?"

"Yes."

"If I stay here, it would be-"

"Forever."

"Forever?"

"Forever! Or he dies in the dungeon and you will never see him again!"

"I won't see him again either way! That's not fair!"

She had a point, but only one option guaranteed her father's life.

"Make your choice!"

"Come into the light!"

This was something he wouldn't do. He would not receive rejection from her before she made her decision. The Beast released the grip he had on his cloak, and looked down at his hands paws in disgust. Almost as an emotional response, the stone servants released their grip on the young woman, and watched as she practically dove for her father.

"Make. Your. Choice."

The father and daughter exchanged hushed words as the old man cupped her cheeks and she kissed the tips of his knuckles.

"No, my beauty, you must escape now! Before you see it!"

Though the pair were quiet, this was one remark The Beast heard with no mistake. He exhaled in frustration. Patience was not one of his known traits, and he'd already suffered too much of it for one day.

"Forgive me, Papa."

The daughter stood with her back to the cell, and though her father clung to the skirts of her simple dress, she faced the darkness and the mysterious Lord alone. With silver tears streaking her cheeks, she spoke.

"I will stay. You have my word."

"Done."

-----------------------------------------

author's note: hello! and thank you for reading! i should have character designs up for belle and beast sometime this week. thank you for all the love i received on lumiere and cogsworth! i've wanted to do a redesign and retelling of this story for a long long time, and i'm glad i have a few of you along for the ride!

#beauty and the beast #beautyandthebeast #fairytale retelling #batb au #batb disney #batb fanfic #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers fic #monster lover #beauty and the beast fic #idk im autistic and batb is my special interest #so this is how i'm coping with intense years of brainrot

[spnexploration]

Catatonic

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, female hunter (reader)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: Sam gets hurt on a hunt, but the message doesn't seem to be getting through to Dean. The reader has to think of something quickly to motivate him to move, but how will Dean take being threatened? And what happens when there are questions at the hospital?

Tags: (friends to) enemies to lovers, somewhat fluffy, angst, exploring Dean's feelings, pretend relationship, real relationship, hospital

Warnings: canon-typical injuries, female hands tied, gun violence threatened (from female and from male) but not acted upon, implied smut but nothing beyond kissing described.

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: I find "y/n" quite jarring when reading so I have avoided using it. However, it is meant to be the reader as the narrator. Also I'm Australian, there may be some Australianisms.

ETA: I wrote an extra bonus bit at the end, see here

Supernatural writing masterlist

We just got out of there alive. Mission accomplished for the hunt, but only just. Sam staggered out of the cabin in the woods ahead of me, and I could hear Dean cleaning his knife behind me having just taken down the last of them. The three of us made our way to some rocks and sat down, exhausted and feeling the loss of adrenaline. I felt like I had hit a wall and my body was cashing in its previously written cheques.

“Uh...” Sam said. I looked up at him, noticing his paling face and then the blood on his hand against his abdomen.

“Sam?!” I called, jumping to my feet to run to him.

“I, uh, I got stabbed,” he said, almost as if he couldn't believe it.

I looked over at Dean, who was still sitting, hadn't responded. “Dean!” I called out to him. He didn't look up. “DEAN!” I screamed.

“What?” he said gruffly, like I was interrupting his favourite TV show.

“Sam’s been stabbed!”

Dean didn't react. What the hell had gotten into him that he would ignore Sam being injured?!

“Alright, Sam, come on, get up, let's get you to the car.” I helped Sam stand and draped his arm around my shoulders. I was too short to really be a good support for him, but it was better than nothing. Dean still hadn’t moved.

“Dean, I don't know how to get back to the car through these woods.” Nothing. “I can barely carry one Winchester, I can't carry two. You have to get up.” No response.

“Dean! I need you to lead us back to the car so we can get Sam help.” He just sat there, staring at his hands, catatonic. “Are you hurt too or something?!” No response.

I was starting to panic now. How was I going to get Sam through the forest? I could feel his blood seeping through his shirt and into mine. Why wouldn't Dean move? I had to think of a way to motivate him.

I suddenly realised what I could do. Risky, but it might get through to Dean, and I couldn't get out of this forest without him.

I pulled the gun out from my waistband. I pointed it at Dean and clicked the safety off. “Stand up, Winchester,” I said coolly. “You are going to lead us out of here.”

He looked up at me, anger in his eyes. “If you shoot me, how are you going to get out?”

Damn. I thought quickly, turning the gun to Sam at my side instead. “Not you. If you don't lead us out, I'll shoot Sam.” Dean glared at me before reluctantly getting up.

“You dare to threaten me with my own gun?” he asked, his voice low and threatening. “You come in, you use our weapons and then what, you decide to turn on us? Was this always the plan?”

“Just get moving, Winchester. Before your brother gets it.” I acted like it meant nothing to me, but it was killing me performing this act.

Sam nodded at Dean who grumpily started walking. Once he was a couple of metres in front of us, I put the safety back on and the gun in my pocket, ready to help Sam move.

“You know, I could overpower you like this,” Sam said to me quietly.

“Oh really, while you bleed out on me?” I replied, equally quietly. “You know I'm not going to shoot you Sam, I just needed something to motivate Dean. Not sure why you being stabbed wasn’t enough, but I thought he’d recognise the click of a gun and act on instinct and I was right.”

Sam grimaced as we went on, clearly in pain. I could feel the blood still flowing through my fingers as I tried to apply pressure to the wound while walking.

“He's going to try to disarm you.”

“I know. And I'll let him. We just need to get you patched up.”

We completed the rest of the walk in silence, Dean occasionally throwing glances back at us.

I tensed up as the clearing where Baby was parked came into view, expecting Dean to do something. I fished the gun back out of my pocket for appearances, although I was ready to drop it at any moment to avoid Dean shooting me instead.

I tried to still act cool, “Open her up and then come here and get Sam in. Nice and slow, Winchester, no funny business.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at me, coming to grab Sam. He felt the wet blood on his hand when he put it around Sam’s waist, looking critically at his hand and then accusatorily at me. “You shot him?!” he yelled angrily.

“What? No! That's where he GOT STABBED!”

Sam swayed on his feet.

“Just get him in the car, Dean!” I yelled, gesturing with the gun. His eyes narrowed at my gesture but he did it.

I followed behind, not really sure where to go with the gun idea now. I hadn't thought this far ahead when I started it.

Dean was still bent down in front of me, getting Sam into the passenger seat. I walked up to Baby, “Ok, you're going to dr-“

I was cut off my Dean canoning into me. He'd used his already bent forward body, spun on his heels and launched himself at me, tackling me to the ground with his shoulder in my stomach. His hands went for the gun and I quickly dropped it, holding my palms wide open at him. “I surrender! The safety isn't even off, I wasn't going to shoot!” I gushed, a bit winded. I put up no fight, not wanting Dean to think I was a real threat.

He easily grabbed my wrists then hauled me to my feet with them. He spun me around and pushed me up against Baby, pulling my hands behind my back to him. “This here is exactly why I keep rope in the glove box,” he hissed in my ear as he tied my wrists together. He opened the back door and shoved me in the backseat before getting in the driver's seat himself.

“She wasn't going to shoot me, Dean,” Sam said weakly.

“How about I be the judge of that and you focus on not bleeding to death?” Dean responded angrily, starting the car.

---

We sped down the highway. I tried not to rub my wrists against the rope but I couldn't help it when I was being tossed around in the backseat, unable to brace myself or sit properly with them behind me. Dean had tied them tightly, there was no slipping out of it. The rope painfully tore at my skin, but I bit my tongue and kept it to myself.

We kept driving.

Finally, I saw the signs for the hospital, Dean following them. Sam was slumped in his seat.

“You’re going to have to untie me,” I said quietly.

“And why exactly would I do that?” Dean responded gruffly.

“Because they're going to notice if you go in with a stabbed brother and a woman tied up in the backseat of your car.” Dean tensed his jaw but didn't say anything. “I promise, I'll do everything you say. You can even tie me back up when we get back to the car once Sam’s patched up.”

“Fine, but you put a toe out of line and I'll be the one shooting you.”

“Yes, sir.” His eyebrow and the corner of his mouth tweaked slightly.

We pulled into the hospital car park. Dean lent over the front seat and undid the knot on my hands, leaving me to work the rope off them. I pulled a jacket from the floor and hastily put it on, hoping the sleeves would hide the marks on my wrists. Dean ran around the car and pulled the semi-conscious Sam out and carried him inside, me tailing close behind. Dean struggled a little with Sam’s weight and length, but managed it.

“Abdominal stab wound, lost a lot of blood!” Dean yelled as he carried Sam through the door. Health workers quickly scrambled to us, getting Sam on a bed and rushing him off.

---

Once Sam was gone, the questions started. Dean told them Sam had been stabbed in a mugging gone wrong. He said we'd put up a fight at our attackers, trying to have a plausible reason for the bruises, cuts and scratches that were also developing on Dean and I.

“Miss, I need you to come with me,” a nurse said to me.

“Oh, I’m not his sibling, Greg knows all his details,” I said, gesturing to Dean and using his current credit card alias.

“I need you to come, Miss,” the nurse insisted. Her eyes glanced at my wrist and I saw that my sleeve had slipped up when I'd reached for paperwork they passed us earlier, and she'd seen the rope burn. Crap.

“Ok,” I said, thinking fast. “Back in a sec, honey,” I said to Dean. He schooled his features and didn't respond with surprise.

The nurse took me to another room. “Is someone hurting you? Did he threaten you?” she asked me.

“Greg? No, he's my boyfriend,” acting like I was surprised by her question.

“What happened to your wrists?”

“Oh,” I giggled, acting skills to 11. “We, um, got a little carried away,” I lowered my voice like I was worried someone would overhear us, “during sex... I like to be tied up.” I thought about the most embarrassing thing I could, hoping my face would blush to match my story.

“If he is hurting you, you can tell us and we'll help you.”

“Oh no, he's really a teddy bear. It's all me with the, you know,” I dropped my voice again, “sex stuff.” I looked at the ground, like it was hard to maintain eye contact.

She looked at me critically for a second as if trying to see if I was lying. She finally shrugged and led me back to the room where Dean was.

“Any news?” I asked as I entered, looking at his clearly exhausted form. I could see why they thought he was violent, the tension in his already imposing shoulders was clear to see and his hands and shirt were speckled in Sam’s blood from getting him and out of the car. He shook his head to my question.

I crossed the room to him and slid my arm around his back, giving him a side hug. He put his arm around my shoulder, clearly having cottoned on to my ruse. “Where’d you go?” he asked me.

“Oh it was so embarrassing,” I giggled and dropped my voice, but still loud enough that it could probably be heard by the nearby nurse. “They asked about my wrists, I had to tell them about me getting you to tie me up in sex.” I buried my face into his shoulder and he chuckled. “My little firecracker,” he said, giving me a squeeze.

The nurse seemed reasonably reassured and left, but we were still in the waiting room where others could see us even if they couldn't hear.

“Let's go sit down,” I said to him, still with my arm around his back. He didn't move. I reached up on my toes to kiss his cheek, whispering to him as I did, “You need to look a little more like a worried brother and a little less like you did it.”

He turned and took my hand, leading me to the chairs. I'd seen him act before as all kinds of different personas, but I was impressed with how well he could slip into the role of boyfriend.

He kept a hand on me at all times, whether it be on my knee, around my back or holding my hand. I supposed the girlfriend ruse had really helped with his desire to manage the threat he felt I posed now.

We waited.

And waited.

“I'm going to the toilet,” I said to him. His hand on my knee squeezed in warning and he leaned into me, “Fine,” he breathed quietly, “But if I hear anything suspicious or you take more than two minutes, I'm kicking the door down.” I nodded and walked over to the bathrooms, Dean following me and heading into the men's as I went into the women's.

It was good to wash Sam’s blood off my hands, finally.

Dean was waiting for me when I came out and we walked back to our seats. I noticed his hands were now clean of blood too.

We waited.

“They're still watching you,” I whispered in his ear.

“I know,” he muttered under his breath, frustration leaking through.

We waited some more.

I looked over at him at one point, seeing the frown lines etched into his face. I reached up and ran my hand through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. His face relaxed a little, quite unrelated to acting.

More waiting.

And more waiting.

Finally, a doctor came in to see us. Dean jumped up. “He's going to be ok,” the doctor said, “we were able to stitch it up and give him a blood transfusion. He's very lucky they missed damaging his organs too much.”

“Can we see him?” Dean asked. The doctor nodded and led us through. Dean gripped my hand, and I reminded myself that he still thought I'd double-crossed him and Sam. He would be clutching me to him so he could keep an eye on me, even though it had felt for a moment like he wanted the comfort of someone else around when going to see his injured little brother.

---

Sam was discharged a couple of hours later. The doctors wanted to keep him in but he assured them he'd be ok at home, and so they let us leave.

Dean led the way to the car, my hand held tightly in his. He checked on Sam, getting in the passenger side, before returning his attention to me. He opened my door as if he was being a gentleman, but the hospital staff couldn't hear him muttering to me, “You pull any funny business before I get a chance to tie you up and I will end you.” I gulped and nodded.

15 minutes down the road, he pulled over. As soon as the car was stationary, he pulled his gun out and pointed it straight at me, over the seats. “Let's go have a chat, shall we?” he asked sarcastically, angry face back on.

I got out of the car, worried by Dean’s expression. Sam hastily got out too, wincing slightly.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam asked anxiously.

Dean looked cool, calm and collected with his gun trained straight on me. “Sam, test her.”

“Is this really necessary?” Sam asked.

“She pointed a gun at you Sammy. A gun I put in her hand after we let her in our house. So yes, this is really necessary!”

I stood with my hands up, a few metres behind Baby. Sam fetched holy water from the car and splashed it on me, to no effect. He edged closer to me and pressed the side of a silver knife flat against my forearm, again to no reaction. Dean continued to glare at me down the barrel of his gun.

“I'm not a demon, Dean,” I said. “I wasn't really going to shoot him, I just didn't know how to get you moving. You were just sitting there and Sam was bleeding and I panicked!”

There was a pause. “Get back in the car, Sam,” Dean ordered.

I started to shake, thinking he was going to shoot me. I'd braved plenty of others threatening me, but there was something about Dean doing it that had me weak at the knees, and not in a good way.

“Are you going to kill me?” I asked quietly.

Dean stared at me a beat longer, before finally lowering his gun. “No.”

He turned back to the car and started walking back, leaving me standing alone. “Are- are you going to leave me here?” I stuttered. I hadn't thought about what would happen to my relationships with the brothers when I'd had the idea of threatening Dean to get him moving, back in the forest. I didn't want to be abandoned.

“Get in the damn car,” Dean called out to me, not looking up. I ran to my door and climbed in.

---

We pulled up at the bunker and all climbed out of the car. The trip had been tense and silent.

Sam went to pick up his bag from the boot, but Dean was faster. “I got it,” said the older brother.

The three of us headed inside, Sam walking gingerly with his hand against his injured side. “How about you go lie down?” I suggested to him gently, noticing how tired he looked.

Sam looked between Dean and I, a frown on his face, “Are you two going to kill each other if I leave you alone?”

I smirked and shook my head. Sam glared at his brother, “Dean?” he demanded.

“We’ll be fine,” Dean responded gruffly. “Quit your fussing.” Sam looked relieved and headed off his room.

I headed to mine too, keen to wash Sam’s blood and the remnants of the hunt off me. The water stung my raw wrists, but it felt good being clean. I put on a t-shirt and some trackies and headed back to the living area.

I found Dean sitting by himself on the couch, staring into space. He'd cleaned up a bit too, sitting in fresh clothes with damp, short hair.

I grabbed two beers from the fridge and headed for the couch, cracking the lid off one and holding it out to Dean. It took him a second to notice. He reached out for it, and then caught sight of my wrist, with the bruising and rope burn from when he tied me up. One hand took the beer and put it on the table, while the other gently cradled my wrist. “I'm sorry,” he said quietly, turning my arm over to look all around it.

“It’s nothing,” I said, pulling my arm back. I had enjoyed the feeling of his calloused hands gently holding mine, but I didn't want to add to his pity party.

I sat next to him on the couch, opening my own beer. “Wanna tell me what's going on in that head of yours?”

“No.” His tone clearly indicated he wanted me to drop it, which I had no intention of doing.

“It’s not like you to not care that Sam was stabbed and bleeding.” He looked up at me sharply, clearly annoyed.

I waited a moment, but he didn't say anything. I tried again, “I have a theory.”

“Oh yeah, what's that Dr Freud?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I don't think you heard or understood us. I don't think you registered that Sam had been stabbed when you just kept sitting there. At the time I thought you were ignoring us or downplaying it, but the look on your face when you thought I'd already shot him, it seemed like surprise that he was bleeding.”

He took a deep breath and stared at his hands, clasped in front of him with his elbows on his knees. “I would never ignore that you or Sammy was hurt,” he said quietly.

“So, what happened?” I asked, equally quietly.

He took a deep breath. “I don't know,” he said, clearly reluctant to admit it.

I reached over and ran my hand through his hair, like I had when pretending to be his girlfriend in the hospital. I’d noticed then that he liked it. “It's ok to make a mistake sometimes,” I said, still speaking quietly.

“It’s not ok if it leads to Sammy bleeding out,” he criticised himself angrily. “I can't afford to make mistakes.”

“It's ok to be exhausted and thinking the hunt is over and have your brain not quite process everything it hears. It's human. When was the last time you slept?”

He laughed mirthlessly. “Sleep doesn't come easily to monsters.”

My hand was still in his hair. I slowly brought it down the side of his face, cupping his cheek. He looked up at me, my eyes meeting his beautiful, tormented green ones. He looked so vulnerable, I could tell he was beating himself up about what had happened.

I leaned in towards him, crossing most of the distance but leaving a small amount so he could choose not to lean in. After a tiny pause, he leaned in to the kiss. Our soft lips met tenderly.

“I don't think you're a monster,” I whispered to him afterwards.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me on to his lap, leaning in to kiss me again. His kisses were deeper, more passionate and more needy. “This ok, sweetheart?” he whispered during a pause in kissing. “Mhmm,” I agreed, running my hands down his muscled torso.

“Wanna take this somewhere more comfortable?” he asked me, his hands roaming my body. “God, yes,” I breathed back to him. He turned my legs so I was straddling his lap instead of sitting across it, and then stood up, holding my legs wrapped around his waist. I squealed in surprise. He laughed, “Careful how loud you scream, you'll bring Sam running.” I felt my face blush at the thought.

Dean carried me to his room, depositing me on my back on his bed while he kept kissing me passionately. He started removing my clothes, and I his.

---

It was later. I cradled Dean’s sleeping head on my chest, gently stroking his scalp. He had me wrapped in his strong arms under the covers of his bed.

He finally looked peaceful, and certainly seemed more soundly asleep than he ever had in any of the motel rooms we had stayed in recently. I wondered how long since he had felt safe and relaxed enough to properly sleep. Perhaps that was why he could only process information in the presence of adrenaline, today at least.

I wrapped my arms around him and fell asleep myself.

Read the extra bonus bit

#spn #supernatural #supernatural fics #spn fic #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers fic #dean fanfiction #dean fanfic #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagine #dean angst #dean feelings #reader as narrator #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester angst

[moriahwritez]

Too perfect to win ~

(Yandere female student/Sevika 🔪)

(Onggg it’s beeen soooo LONG!!! Gotta make you guys entertained😭)

Summary: Your a higher rank female student with gambling skills in university of Zaun. You go against the richest woman of all times; Sevika (Silco’s right hand).

Warning: None

Kinda related to Kakegurui (Anime). You’re pretty much like Yumeko in this fanfic. All crazy just to win and have fun. Can get quite flirty but when it comes to gamble, it’s madness.

Might have second part, if you’re willing to see more.

Now enjoy ❤️

Special night happened in Zaun. A casino was built across the last drop from Vander’s ideas. He thought it would be a genius just to have the people who live there, can be more entertained, involving money. There were several smoke pipe filling through the air of the place. There was even red wine passing around, some couches to sit on and chat, but mostly slot machines and table with plenty of cards to play against. There were blackjacks, poker, roulette and more to choose from. That’s when you step in. You’ve heard about a gamble event from whispers of people who knew you would show up. You were a woman who’ve gambled with others ever since you transferred from a different world to a brand new university.

As you show up, you were met by this women. The most all of known; Sevika. You gave her a slight smirk, crossing your arms to stare down at her. Sevika was already on this green comfy chair, waiting to play against you tonight. “Say, you’re Silco’s right hand I’ll say? It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sevika.” You smiled happily, looking innocent as if you were just a random lady giving out handshake or something. Sevika replied, taking out her cigarette and inhale from her nose. “What are you here for, young lady? This is not school time.” She laughs, taking her cigar away. Some of her groups laugh as well. “Or are you here to gamble?” Sevika asks sharply. “You sure have the guts to go against me, dear.” She takes a few puffs. “I would really like your way of playing if that’s how we’re gonna end up.” Sevika says getting up to stand above you. She wasn’t playing when it came to gamble and winning over money. She didn’t give a crap on anyone losing over her. “It’s pretty risky, but it’s worth it.”

You tilt your head while staring up at her. Chuckling under your breath, you couldn’t help but smirk. “Now, how much you would want to bet actually? I have all night for this event.” You lift up a badge that was around your neck. “As you may not know, Zaun has a college university for higher people here, who’s very good at gambling. Not sure if you heard it around,” you said with a brief smile, not afraid of this bold woman. “Of course I’m familiar with your university.” The woman replied sharply. Then her eyes drift down to see your badge with your name, Y/N. “So, what exactly do you propose for this bet, y/n?” Sevika lift her head while still staring down at you. “5,000 yens,” you claim. Sevika shook her head and laughs. “Really? 5,000? You know that isn’t impressive at all to me. After all, you don’t stand a chance winning me over, cutie.” Her thin smile spread across her face. “But, here how it goes. I’ll add 2,000 yens on top of your bet-“ “That’ll makes it 7,000 yens, so perhaps 8,000 at least.” You said, cutting her off. You just couldn’t remove that darn smile off your face. Oh how priceless.

“Ah…” Sevika rise up from her body, staring a far distance from you. “I see…your actually a gambler? I thought you were just some ordinary student asking the most randomness question like how they always present after class. But this time isn’t.” Then she smiled with admiration. “8,000 yens it is. That would be quite an offer. And do you have the balls to go up to that, sweetheart?” She asks, letting out a chuckle. But you wanted more. Your ways was to have that excitement of combining with intelligence and reveal it as a hobby. You were playing as if it didn’t affect you. You had great power and money that overcame you. “I’ll like to go higher than that actually~” You said quite flirty. Sevika raised her eyebrow. “Must be a daredevil for sure. How bout we raise the stakes? Let’s bet 10,000 yens.” “Make it 15,000.” That’s when people stop on what they were doing and look to see the two sides competing. The whole room was filled with silence. “Your sure are a bold one, aren’t you?” She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “15,000 yens it is.”

Two finally sat on their chairs away from each other while a large table settle on the middle. “This may be your last night of gambling. I hope you know what’s coming up. Just hope you don’t cry all over me.” Once again she laughs, enjoying this situation your both in while others around murmur. The gambling game begins. The crowd grow over by seconds. It was so obvious that an interesting game could carried certain players that was worth watching. This game was when each person needed to get to 21, quickly as possible. Sevika started shuffling deck of cards. “I’ll tell you what, y/n. See how this night goes when we go back to back from this game. If you get to 21 first, I’ll play you, alright?” You nod with a smile. “Sounds like a plan.” You first placed a card on the center of the table. Sevika looked at you and the card carefully. The situation was now getting tense. Another one was left with a card she placed close to you on the table. On the board Sevika had: 16. You had 14. (Random card game idk😭)

After placing yours, you see Sevika pulls out another one. This card was specifically designed for double twice. Her board went to 18. Oh man she was close to win. “It’s not always about gambling you know. I would like to rise the bet actually. 1,000,000 yens.” The crowd went total nuts when you claimed a bigger amount of money. Sevika was caught of guard. “Wow…now you sure you want to keep to 15,000 instead? Alright beats on me.” She chuckles. “One million only. That’s it.” “Which is fun, right?” You chuckle. “Don’t you ever have any fun gambling?” You asked while placing another card. “Who told you that I don’t have fun? Kind of question your asking me?” Sevika ended up having 20 on the board. She sighs, stretching out her body and leaning back to her seat. Out of nowhere, you had 21 on the board. “Huh?” Sevika showed surprise on her face as she stare at the board. How she didn’t see that coming? She glanced down at the betting table.

“Supposedly I win. After all, I was just joking about getting for one million. I’ll stick to 15,000 yens instead.” You giggled. “Dont mess with me, pretty thing. You shouldn’t joke around when it comes to bet with money.” Says Sevika, her cold gaze narrowed towards you. “I’m all for it. I’m sure you don’t even have that kind of money. Only the top rating students had-“ With a fist slam to the table, Sevika was no longer in her neutral state. She was now irrated by your foolish tone of sarcasm. “Better watch your mouth you-“ “Would you kind to pay up now? The game over now, silly.” You said folding your hands together. “All I’m asking of you is 15,000.” Your eyes were now in deep red. “Your really something women.” She deeply sigh, pulls out a stack of coins with a grunt. “Should be enough for y’all.” You place your palm of the bag while looking up at her again. “It all comes to madness.” You started laughing a bit loud, with another hand placing your mouth. “I win as always.” Before you try calming down, which Sevika thought you were insane all of a sudden, the crowd went back up whispering to one another in even more shock.

“I’ll be back once again, Sevika. Or shall I say I would come to play but you might as well lose once again.” You replied with another laugh. Sevika’s body spoke in rush of adrenaline. Something inside of her wanted to crush you right ahead, teaching you a lesson. But instead she back down and want to treat you like a lady and this was just all a game for the night. “Consider this a next time, Sevika. I’ll see you then~” You wink at her with a blow kiss, grabbing the bag of coins, walking out the building like it was nothing XD. Sevika was stunned by the event that been unfolded, out of place. That beautiful and innocent face you had at first disappeared into the rest of the folks. From this day forward, Sevika still tries to think more about you….how you ended up in Zaun in the first place, besides gambling. How mysterious it was for you to play her off like that and then vanshied?

(Wow that was a heck of a story. You beat her this time. Oh poor Sevika. No worries, I’ll be having more stories of her and hopefully Abby. I am trying to pull others in fanfics as well. Lmk how this turned out for you. Please reblog for others to see. Thank you💕💕💕).

#arcane #sevika arcane #sevika #fanfic #arcane sevika #yandere #kakegurui #gambling #fem reader #its been months #i finally posted #it’s about damn time #wlw #enemies to lovers #arcane fandom #arcane zaun #sevika x fem reader #sevika fanfics #sevika fanfiction #enemies to lovers fic #looking for moots

[dotieeee]

Comatose

A multi-chapter fic inspired by the Sandman and its characters

Pairing: Dark!Vigilante!Morpheus x You/Reader

Basically, a detective human AU self-indulgent enemies to lovers fic

Premise:

The man who called himself the King of Nightmares watched as the lowlife before him, bound and drugged, writhed and screamed of horrors only he could see, the potent poison - his brand - working to turn the mind against itself: it was music to his ears like no other. The man before him would eventually fall into a state of perpetual terror until his ultimate demise, as was his design. This was his own brand of justice, and only those who escaped the hand of the law, the ones he deemed unworthy of life, were doomed to meet it.

But, then, there was you: you, a rookie detective with your unorthodox methods, a survivor of harrowing trauma, the only angel in among the horde of demons who dare call themselves officers of the law. You had dared challenge him to a dance, a battle of wits, and promised to put an end to his nightmarish reign. The moment you had come closer than anyone else had to finally catching him, he was simply enamoured, and from that day forth, he made a vow of his own:

That he’ll get to you first, his precious little angel; he’ll clip your wings and keep you in a cage so you can be his. The world, after all, does not deserve you. Status: Not yet written

Release date: After I finish my ongoing fic

Warnings: DARK, murder-y, and stuff Other warnings to follow

Stay tuned for more updates!!! Special thanks to @ambercoloredfox!!

#dark!morpheus fic #dark!morpheus fanfic #dark!human!vigilante!morpheus fic #dark!morpheus x reader #dark!dream x you #dark!morpheus x you #incoming dark!morpheus fic #dotieeeee writes!! #enemies to lovers fic #self-indulgent fic

[philosophy-with-anxiety]

i need more enemies to lovers w spencer reid because he can be such a little shit and it fuels my soul

#spencer reid is a little shit #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers fic #spencer reid #reid #reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #fic #fanfic #criminal minds #pretty boy

[cheeseplants]

It's Chriiiistmas (sort of). I mean it is December.

Anyway I wrote some fanfic, because that's a thing I do now.

Title: I’m Dreaming of a Light (and Dark) Christmas

Summary:

Aziraphale had begun plotting his revenge a few days after the encounter with the man he had begun to refer to as the demon in his head. Not that he was a vengeful person. He was a good and righteous person who believed it was important to bring light into people's lives.

Lights, in fact. Several of them.

___

Two shopkeepers with very different ideas about Christmas battle it out on Whickber Street to create the most extravagant Christmas lights in London. But when the lights go out, they start to find they may have more in common than they first thought. An enemies to lovers human-AU Christmas decorations feud!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens fanfiction #good omens human au #good omens christmas #good omens holiday #enemies to lovers fic #fanfic #ao3 fanfic

[ghostwithatophat]

WIP Wednesday

Finally got something that I'm working on:

Alex Claremont-Diaz is what most people call him. His fans called him ACD, and his friends called him Alex. He was called Alexander when being reprimanded, but hardly anyone called him by his full name: Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz. His name represented his family before him, and will pass on through the ones after him. He used to be self-conscious of his mouthful of a name, but now that it’s a household phrase, he’s proud of his title.

In the beginning of his career, he didn’t love it as much. As Alex started gaining popularity, he heard his name a lot. He started to become more aware of how people pronounced the different components of his last name depending on how they saw him. He noticed how people started to call him ACD when his music ventured from grunge music, to full on rock with his new album ‘Unchosen’.

Took the open tag from: @kiwiana-writes

#wip wednesday #enemies to lovers fic #rwrb #fanfic #AHHHHHHHH

[axelwolf8109]

#teen wolf #soulmate fic #enemies to lovers fic #petopher #peter hale #chris argent

[robinbuckleysredberet]

Literally in the middle of writing the Ronance/enemies to lovers/post season 3/tension filled/slowburn fic that the world need right now

#ronance #robin buckley #Nancy Wheeler #robin x nancy #ronance fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fic #Robin Buckley fanfic #stranger things 3 #slowburn #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers fic

[frantic-writing]

I posted chapter 6 last night and I'm very happy to announce that with chapter 6 this fic has officially reached smut territory.

#ao3 author #ao3 link #writers on tumblr #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fic #kylo ren smut #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers fic

[hobimo]

blue eyes, white dragon

Summary:

In a cruel twist of fate, the eldest son of the prestigious Dragon-Parks, the most powerful dragon hunters in the kingdom, is born a dragon.

read it here

#mine #my fics #jikook #jikook fic #dragon fest 22 #ongoing #derg fic #the fest made another mb but idk if im allowed to use it...... #enemies to lovers fic

[bamsara]

"youve already written that trope" yesss. i like it a lots. i will be writing it again. 1000 stories of the same trope over and over again for ten million years

#'enemies to lovers' BANGER #'one is bridal carrying the other while theyre injured' BANGER #'sacrifice of something important' BANGER #'drunken chapter that results in at least one fist fight' BANGER #theres more but only me and readers who have read all of my fics througout fandoms will help me find the patterns #sara shush

[just-some-friendly-fun]

In a bit of a predicament here,

among all things considered and since I'm still in the process of still planning out the story, my own character, etcetera, etcetera. I need an opinion from the crowd.

I'm writing an enemies to lovers with my Spidersona OC and Miguel O'hara, and I am indecisive about the name of the fic I'll have for my boyos. So...

#atsv miguel #miguel o hara #Miguel O'hara #atsv miguel o’hara #atsv #fic idea #fic #enemies to lovers fic #Valentine P. Simmons (oc) #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse oc #across the spiderverse

[curiositydooropened]

Wildfire • Teaser

When Hawkins opened up and slowly slipped into the Ether, you were there on the front lines. Now, nearly two years later, after the tragic loss of your best friend, you're left without a partner and a rage building inside you like a wildfire. When you're given the option to retire or partner with your rival, Steve Harrington, you struggle to put aside your differences for the sake of the world.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Wordcount: TBD

Warnings: enemies/rivals to lovers, a bit of second chance romance if you squint, slooooowburn, unrequited love, so much pining, blood, gore, character death, trauma, PTSD, lots of fire, Upside Down monsters and the like, drowning, weapons, murder

Moodboard • Fic Masterlist • Navigation • Masterlist

---

March 1988 03:00

A strong forearm caught your waist, ripping you backward and back to reality. The ringing in your ears faded to the crackle of fire, the roar of an engine, the gut wrenching wails of heartache. You resisted the force at your ribs, rooted to your spot, slack jaw tightened, hands clenched into fists, but they were stronger. You were lifted off your feet, kicking, clawing at the air, desperate to reach the figure thirty feet in front of you. Your best friend lay there, pale skin to asphalt, shock of red hair caked in mud, a pattern of thick black veins across freckled features. Your nostrils filled with the acrid stench of charred flesh. Your mouth tasted of blood and ash and bile.

“She’s gone,” Harrington’s voice roared in your ear, chest pressed to your back as he wrestled you toward the Getaway. “We’ve gotta get out of here. We can’t risk infection. Let’s go!” He loosened his grip to hoist himself into the truck bed, extending a hand to help you up.

You had every reason to stay, every reason to hold her head in your lap and scream and sob and apologize for what happened to her, for what you did to her. 

Harrington yelled your name, drawing your attention back to him. His skin was stained black around the edges, coated in grime and oil slick with sweat. His jaw was clenched, hand still extended, and you noticed the flash of his eyes into the bed behind him.

Wheeler was there, and Byers, both staring at you wide-eyed, jaws clenched. Wheeler’s hair had never been bushier. The circles beneath Byers’s eyes never deeper. And in their arms, Robin buried her face and muffled her sobs in the crook of an elbow, blue eyes flooded, tear stains streaked through ash and char across freckled cheeks and down her chest. 

What had you done?

You swallowed.

Then, Robin reached a hand out, beckoning, commanding, begging for you to get in the truck. Her fingers trembled. 

Something deep, something hidden, subconscious, compelled you to grip Harrington’s forearm and allow him to hoist you into the truck bed, and with two slams of Byers’s fist to the roof, you were off, nearly teetering off the side as you found your seat on a wheel well. Fingers found your palm, wet, and you glanced up to gape at Robin, throat filling with too much emotion to make sound. But she held your gaze, those soulful blue eyes locked on yours so you couldn’t look away, couldn’t watch the figure of your best friend’s lifeless form fade into the horizon.

---

Fic Coming 8/17

.

..

...

#wildfire fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington slowburn #steve harrington x you #enemies to lovers fic #steve harrington

[vauxxy]

SETTLE DOWN!

luke castellan x reader

★ “for crying out loud, settle down!”

ABOUT - you hate his guts. he hates yours. but you’d by lying if you said you didn’t want to make out with him until his lips start bleeding. and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like that idea.

WARNINGS - sexual references, sexual comments, enemies to lovers, steamy makeout scenes, no explicit smut. both luke and reader are very horny and very mean sooo two red flags lol

A/N - please don’t make fun of my english/australian vocabulary. i know americans don’t use the word ‘fit’ but LET ME LIVE IN PEACE!!!let me know if you’d fancy a part 2 <3

WC - 3.7k words

it’s hard to recall when exactly your distaste towards luke castellan first developed.

maybe it started off as rude comments and shoved shoulders, or simply the act of tripping over each other's shoes, paired with a few nasty glances. either way, you hated his guts.

this sentiment was obviously returned by luke, who was eager to constantly egg you on and rile you up. maybe he found it amusing- watching the ever so calm and collected eldest daughter of the hypnos cabin going absolutely ballistic whenever luke did something slightly annoying. he loved the way her mature and gentle persona shattered as soon as he provoked her.

it was rather strange how quickly they let their masks slip, letting themselves shout foul obscenities at each other as soon as a conflict arose between the two of them. it was like being near each other was the primary catalyst for their arguments and squabbles- not the actual contents of the disagreement itself, but the players involved.

curiously, luke’s terrible attitude was never extended to anyone other than you. around everyone else at camp half-blood, luke was the perfect gentleman. warm and welcoming to anyone who happened to walk past him, a great swordsman, well-kept, respectful and polite, the list goes on. he was perfect. but as soon as his eyes met yours, his entire body shifted. he became something colder, something ravenous- something hungry. he was out for blood, he just didn’t understand why.

you were slumped over a picnic table near the cabins, tiredly observing all handful of half-blood kids from various cabins making friendship bracelets.

it was dark out, the moon and the embers of the nearby fire acting as the sole providers of light for the camp that night.

truthfully, you didn’t want to be there. you would rather be in bed, coddled up between your sheets for hours before heading down to the infirmary to help out the younger kids with their sleeping troubles. maybe afterwards you could go down to the theatre and join in on a few songs with the apollo kids, or even practice sparring with clarisse.

whatever it was, you didn’t want to be there. not with luke castellan’s eyes studying your every move. you didn’t need to lift your head to know he was looking at you- you could feel it. the arrogance was radiating off him and you could smell his pride from across the picnic table. your nose easily picked up on notes of wet grass, a neutral deodorant, pure spite, and vanilla candles.

after what seemed like an eternity, you eventually shot your head up to meet luke’s unwavering gaze.

“someone’s sleepy.” he smirked, his voice calm and cold. he looked satisfied; content with watching you slowly rise in anger as he began to coddle you and patronise your every move.

you ran a hand through your hair, fixing the messy state it was in after laying down for so long. “i’m not sleepy, just bored.” you retorted, letting your hands hold up your head as you stared deeply into his eyes, not breaking eye contact.

luke played along, refusing to blink as he picked up on the competitive gesture. “bored, huh?” he mused, shooting you a cocky grin as he leaned forward over the table. “you’re never satisfied, are you, princess?”

you rolled your eyes, letting your pupils meet the back of your head as you stifled a groan. you slowly covered one side of your face in your hand, hiding your pink cheeks as a result of his use of the nickname ‘princess’.

“don’t you have a loser convention to get to?” you asked, referring to the cabin councillors meeting that he was supposed to be at.

luke shrugged, looking to his side as he watched a young demeter boy making a bracelet. “got cancelled. now i get to look at your pretty little face for an hour straight.”

“i’m going to bed.” you grumbled, standing up from the picnic table, an unfinished friendship bracelet left discarded. you walked away, hearing little to no protests from the rest of the table.

luke’s eyes met the bracelet you left behind, studying it for a moment. the colours were cute and the beads were placed strategically along the string, creating an interesting and visually pleasing combination of textures and shapes. luke’s hand wandered over to the bracelet, quickly snatching it before securely tying it and stuffing it in his pocket.

luke wasn’t sure why he stole the bracelet. maybe he thought he could taunt you with it, or maybe he could just wear it for shits and gigs. it was a pretty bracelet- why wouldn’t he want to wear it?

a week passed by, and it was time for capture the flag.

luke had consistently come out of the games a champion, securing his place as the best swordsman at camp half-blood whenever possible.

you were tired of it. you promised yourself that when the opportunity arose, you would beat him to it. you would earn the praise he revived so effortlessly.

your determination to win capture the flag was also partially encouraged by the events of the previous tuesday.

you, luke, and a few other older demi-gods were forced to monitor the younger campers on a trip to the nearby lake. simple, right? wrong.

things went south fast when luke ‘accidentally’ nudged your shoulder a bit too hard, forcing you to fall into the lake. luckily, you were a strong enough swimmer and were able to get back on land safely.

“sorry about that, y/n. maybe next time you should keep out of the way?” he leaned in close, whispering in your ear.

luke smirked lightly as his dry hand rubbed the soaking wet and now transparent fabric covering your shoulder. his lips softly grazed your neck as you released yourself from his grip, shooting him a dirty look.

“you should watch your step, castellan. things like this happen to anyone.”

luke scoffed, looking you up and down as he took in the sight of your shivering body. “do they now?” he asked, his head turning to follow your figure as you walked past him.

as you walked away, luke couldn’t help but study your body as it became revealed by the fabric of the camp t-shirt sticking to your skin. how could he not admire the way he could see the vague outline of a lacy black bra underneath your top? or the way your wet hair was framing your angry little face? how you stared him down as your friend offered you a towel.

if you weren’t so acutely aware of how your figure was on full display, you would’ve pushed him in as well- but you were way too infuriated to even get close to him at this point… as well as the fact you didn’t think you could handle the idea of him taking off your shirt in front of you, all wet as his hair let water droplets roll down his torso.

maybe you could handle hitting him with a baseball bat a few times, but the idea of his face all beaten and bloodied was strangely appetising as well.

in all fairness, luke’s actions were not unprovoked. it’s not like you didn’t also tease him and fuck around with his temper.

for example, the very day before the incident at the lake, you had used your abilities as a daughter of hypnos to put him to sleep… for 19 hours, causing him to miss out on camp activities and lose hours of valuable training time.

you felt pure bliss watching him as he stepped out of the hermes cabin, confused and disoriented as hoards of campers instantly surrounded him.

“are you okay luke?”

“i heard you were in a coma!”

“we thought you were a goner,”

luke blocked out the concerned comments of his peers as soon as he caught you gazing over at him from the deck of the hypnos cabin.

with that ‘i got you good’ smirk plastered across your face, luke knew he had to get you back. getting to see your semi-exposed and cold, shuddering body in the process of doing so was only a bonus.

he felt a high from getting to see what he caused. what he did to you. it made him hungry for more. how else could he anger you? get you to show him more? how could you return the favour? would you? he didn’t know if you realised the effect you had on him- but he was going to do anything in his power for you to feel it too.

but those incidents were nothing compared to what was about to go down.

2 hours into capture the flag, and you had managed to fool and scare off enough members of the blue team, causing many individual members to go off track. those hours practising sword fighting with clarisse were definitely worth it.

you leaned against a nearby tree, closing your eyes for a moment as you fiddled with your sword. lost in thought, you heard something coming. more specifically, someone. you didn’t even have to open your eyes to know who it was.

“oh, hey castellan. isn’t it past your bedtime?” you asked, rubbing your eyes open as you lazily swung your sword back and forth.

luke scoffed, taking a step towards you. “i think i like you better when you’re drenched in lake water.” he smirked, looking into your eyes without breaking contact. he couldn’t look away. it wasn’t even because he wanted to intimidate you; he simply couldn’t stand to have you exit his field of vision. not right now, at least.

you look a step backwards, getting into position as you use your shield to protect yourself. “are you gonna try to maim me or what?”

luke took another step forward, mirroring your stance as he took the defensive. “and hurt your pretty little body? i’d rather die.”

you turned red, your mouth agape as you processed what he had said. “excuse me?” you spat, your voice breathy as your eyes widened.

“you heard me,” he smiled innocently, deceiving you before beginning to attack. you blocked every move, pacing around the area as you swung your sword at him. “you’re such a fucking prick!” you grumbled, trying to catch your breath as you struggled to mark him with your blade.

“language, princess.” he scolded, still smiling at you as he continued his attempts at disarming you.

that was the moment when you realised something.

you can play dirty.

not with your sleep-themed party tricks or your weak little fists, but with the power of unpredictability. the element of surprise.

you let him get closer to you, pretending to settle down before him. luke chuckled at the sight of your loosened grip on your shield and increasingly tired eyes, noticing the way your footsteps shuffled backwards and forwards.

“someone’s getting tired-“ his cocky sentiment was quickly cut off by the feeling of your hands tightly gripping his arm- his shock only furthering as your teeth dug into the soft skin on his wrist.

he instantly dropped his shield, his sword still held firmly in his other hand. you quickly released him from your bite, taking a step forwards as you put your weight on his shield. “ow- what the fuck?!” he stammered, looking up at you with red cheeks and a bleeding hand.

you were stumped. you hadn’t thought further than getting rid of his shield. “i didn’t mean to break skin to be honest. sorry.” you shrugged, picking up his shield and throwing it far away while he was still frozen in shock.

luke continued looking at you, silent as he became overwhelmed by the feeling of a ruthless war finally coming to an end within his mind.

obviously, he found you attractive. you were a pretty girl. sure, a lot of girls at camp half-blood were pretty. but for some odd reason, he thought you were much prettier. the type of pretty girl that deserved to be called cute nicknames every day and covered in gentle kisses every night. he wanted to kiss you softly, hold you tightly, say you looked gorgeous, make you tacky beaded bracelets that were the same colour as your eyes. he wanted to make you feel loved.

but he also thought you were a brat. always teasing him and only him. driving him insane with targeted comments and insults. purposefully making him look stupid in front of the younger campers and even patronising him for it. luke wanted to put you in your place. he wanted nothing more than to push you onto his bed in the dead of night, marking you as his. he yearned to hear your strained voice whimpering his name as he towered over you. he wanted to exchange knowing glances and pretend nothing had changed, despite the images of your hands gripping his bedsheets as you let out stifled moans etched into his mind.

luke often wondered how the two could overlap. how the fuck could these two perceptions of this one girl coexist? but luke didn’t wonder how it was possible to think about anymore, he didn’t care about that. now, he wondered if it was possible to act on both of his separate desires for her. he wondered if she even wanted him as much as he wanted her- if she wanted him at all.

“hey, i said i was sorry for making you bleed!” you called out, snapping him out of it.

“stop sulking! what, do you want me to kiss it better or something?”

luke blinked for the first time in what felt like centuries, shrugging as he let a sly smile creepy onto his face. “oh, im not sulking.” he insisted as he stepped closer towards the shorter girl.

he extended his wrist out towards you, a deep and bleeding bite mark engraved into the skin. “you gonna kiss it better, or…?”

you turned red, shaking your head. “i was just joking, castellan.” you murmured coldly, trying to avoid his gaze.

he kept his hand extended towards you, temping you to just take it and kiss it to get him to leave. “fucking loser…” you grumbled, holding his hand in yours as you gave his wrist a soft kiss.

“there, better?” you scoffed before luke’s hands began to tightly grip your wrist, spinning you gently onto your back as he pushed you to the ground, hovering over you. luckily, you still had your sword in your hand. you quickly moved it in front of you, holding the blade close to his neck.

“be careful, princess” he cooed, his sword digging into the dirt ground, standing upright in is position as the skin of your right thigh pressed against the blade. his hands gripped your shoulder and waist, keeping you bound to the floor as you began to squirm under his grip. “ugh, are you kidding me?!” you huffed, your face red from the feeling of intimacy between the two of you arising.

luke was basking in it, relishing the moment as he became almost addicted to the feeling of your skin against his. he let out a hitched breath, his eyes trailing down her frame as he finally realised just how close they were. the vulnerable yet stubborn look in her eyes set off a switch in him. you watched him curiously as he suddenly became a flustered mess, quickly scrambling off of you and standing up.

you lifted your back off the ground, using your hands to rid yourself of the dirt that had accumulated on your shirt.

“are you gonna explain whatever the fuck just happened, luke?” you asked, calling out to him from your spot on the ground.

he rolled his eyes, turning around to face you. “shit, y/n- are you fucking stupid?” he questioned, his voice reeking of irritation and frustration. you furrowed your brows, standing up as you approached him, sword and shield in hand. “oh, alright. forgive me for wondering why the dickhead who threw me into a lake a few days ago was pinning me to the ground in the middle of capture the flag for no reason?” i explained, seething as i pushed him back by the shoulders.

“what the fuck is your problem?” you asked again, letting yourself back him up against a nearby tree.

the game didn’t matter to you anymore. what mattered was getting to the bottom of why this prick was fucking around with you. sure, you liked how it felt being pushed against the ground. you liked the feeling of his blade pressing against your thigh. but you liked the boy more than his actions. you hated yourself for it, of course. this was the dude who’s been teasing you about and pushing you around for 3 summers straight- so why the fuck did you think he was the fittest guy you had ever laid your eyes on?

why did you want him to run his hands through your hair? suck on your neck till it went purple? why on earth did you spend countless nights dreaming about him holding you close as he slept next to you?

you were the eldest hypnos daughter at camp half-blood. you could’ve changed your dream easily; came up with literally any other fantasy at the drop of a hat- but you didn’t. you let it continue. because as much as you hated to admit it, you liked him. you wanted him bad. every last inch of him.

luke let your words echo through his mind for a bit. ‘what is my problem?’ he thought, his expression blank as he stared at you. “i don’t know, y/n! maybe my problem is you?” he said, his voice strained, yet still snarky and somewhat dramatic.

you rolled your eyes again, stepping forward. you kept your hands on his shoulders, pressing him further against the tree he was pinned against. “i’m your problem?!” you asked angrily, holding your sword against his neck once more.

“yes! you make me feel fucking weak.” luke confessed, gripping your wrist tightly as he pushed your hand away in order to create some space between his neck and the sword. “i can’t control myself around you.” he exclaimed, pushing his hand against yours as you retracted the blade from his neck.

“you bring out the worst in me, and i hate you for that.” you arched your brows, leaning forward. “that sounds like a you problem.” you quipped, defeatedly pushing the top of the blade of your sword into the ground as you let your newly free hand grip his chin- forcing him to look down at you.

luke’s hand wandered over to your face, his thumb softly grazing your bottom lip as you tilted his chin downwards, letting him look you in the eyes.

“don’t act like you don’t get exactly what i mean, princess.” he cooed, his voice low as his fingers traced over your lips and cheekbones, his other hand gently caressing your jawline as his fingertips wrapped around your neck.

you grumbled, standing on your toes to reach his height. “you’re a prick.” you scoffed, your eyes fluttering closed as you eagerly kissed him on the lips, his cheeks turning red as he mirrored your movements. he let his hands run through you hair, his other hand resting on your waist as he turned you around- pushing you against the tree now.

his hands ravenously scattered across your delicate frame, trying to feel every curve and dent on your face, back and waist. you pressed your body against his as his hands travelled across your form, closing any and all distance between the two.

after a few straight minutes of violently making out, you pulled away for air, staring into his eyes as your lower lip trembled in shock. you both tried to steady your breathing, lost in each other's eyes as your heartbeats returned back to normal.

“i’ll kiss you again if you turn around and let us win.” you said quickly, the offer seemingly the first thing you could think to say.

luke stayed quiet for a moment, before bursting out into hesitant laughter. “i mean, that’s a pretty good offer…” he said softly, letting his fingers trace your facial features as he studied the colour of your eyes.

“sure.” he said, a little smile on his face as you both leaned in again, the kiss a lot more passionate this time around. you held a clump of his hair in your hand, lightly pulling on on it as luke’s fingers jumped between gripping your neck and shoulders- the other hand running up and down your waist and hips.

you felt his knee hit the bark of the tree, slightly bent as it lightly pressed against the inside of your thigh. that’s when your hands began to grip the back of his shirt, your lips gliding down to the side of his neck. quiet moans escaped luke’s lips, only encouraging you to keep going. he moved his hand downwards, tracing circles into your hips as he moved his other arm hand upwards, cupping the space on the side of your breast with his thumb, lightly rubbing your ribcage.

the moment was only increasing in intensity- before luke was cut off my the sounds of someone calling his name. he quickly pulled away, leaving a gentle kiss on your lips before stepping back.

“right, time to hold up my end of the deal.” he chirped up, leaving one more needy kiss on your forehead.

“oh, by the way-“ he paused, before quickly pulling the bracelet you made the week before out of his pocket. “did you want this back, princess? or can i have it?” he asked cheerfully, his voice low as he looked over you.

“keep it.” you said hastily, your cheeks a vibrant shade of red. luke nodded, giving you one final kiss on the lips as he put the bracelet on the same wrist you had bitten earlier. he gave you a subtle wink and a smile, before jogging away- leaving you frozen in place.

you could hear him talking to his friend from a distance, noting on how he lied to effortlessly- saving your arse over a few kisses.

needless to say, the red team won capture the flag. but luke couldn’t bring himself to care about losing. how could he care about anything other than y/n and her hands and her smile and her eyes? her witty comments and remarks? the way she tilted her head up to look up at him? the way his face fits perfectly in her palm? how could he care about anything else ever again?

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #pjs #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo x reader #luke castellan smut #luke castellan enemies to lovers #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson tv show #pjo #luke castellan fic