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cassandrajoybellbittner · 3 months

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*Warning Adult Content*

HONON IS COMING BACK - Chapter 18

Alek

I woke up the next morning with the space beside me empty.

I blinked a few times, squinting anytime the sun rays coming from the window would increase in intensity.

It took me a while to become fully away, and when I was, I realized what the empty space beside me meant.

Ahote was gone.

'Where is he?' I wondered, sitting up on the bed before looking around the room.

He was nowhere in sight.

I looked over at the wall clock, it was ten in the morning and now that I thought about it, he must have gotten up to take care of things around the house.

I could hear cubs whining and the feet of kids walking past the door from time to time.

It was breakfast time and the process of getting everyone fed before noon was a hefty task.

Usually, I would be up and about following Ahote around but since he left without me, I guessed he wanted some space.

A sigh left my lips when I remembered last night.

I arched my back a bit, letting it crack before looking up ahead and pushing my hair back with my hands.

Ahote had held on to me so with all his might last night, preventing me from moving around in case it disturbed or frightened him.

He had slept before me but somewhere in the middle of the night, he started crying in his sleep like he was having a nightmare.

I wasn't sure what to make of it and I was starting to think that marking him and asking him to mark him was a mistake but despite that, I couldn't help the warm feeling that formed in my chest when I reached for my collar area and felt the raised flesh that was the healing pair of wounds.

After half an hour of sitting on the bed with no clothes on, I decided to take a shower.

I spoke to some wolves on the way to my bath and back and sometimes someone's eyes would drift to the fresh marks under my collar bone.

They didn't say anything about it but the way their composure and mannerisms changed told me that they were surprised and maybe even confused.

That, plus Ahote's behavior at night made me nervous.

I tried not to let the mixed reactions bother me.

I got into new clothes, a loose top and a pair of khaki pants.

Lapu had handed me some clothes that were his and apart from being very comfortable, it made me fit into the aesthetic of the pack more.

I spent a few more minutes in the bedroom sorting out some things and writing a few texts to the one person I kept in contact with from home... Adrian, a wolf who was my second in command when I was still head of the pack hunters.

I didn't speak to him much but now that I had Ahote and needed advice from time to time he was the one I asked.

He didn't know what I was living with a pack and he probably assumed most of the discussions we had were about a human girl I had met and wanted to settle down with.

Despite his oblivion to the facts of the matter, it was still nice to have someone that didn't interact with me like an outsider to talk to.

Around one in the afternoon I left the room I was staying in to find something to eat in the kitchen.

I hadn't expected it to be empty but the fact that Aponi and Kaya were sitting across from each other on the kitchen island made me nervous.

I walked past them like I didn't notice them, hoping that the discussion they were having while the little girls armed with crayons attacked the large cardboard sheet, they had been given would distract them.

"Why are you here?" the thirty-year-old head housekeeper said as I approached the drawers in hopes of finding some bread.

Aponi really wasn't a fan of mine.

And our relationship only worsened any time Ahote and I moved forward with our relationship.

"To eat," I said, raising the loaf of bread I had pulled out of the cupboard before walking over to the other side of the kitchen to get a plate from the rack.

"You don't sound like you're in a good mood."

I'm not sure why I said that and Aponi must have been shocked as well because she didn't say anything for a while.

"Well, how could I be in a good mood when Ahote walks in this morning with fresh marks on his skin?" she asked and I shuddered a bit.

I knew she would find out.

The purpose of the marks was so that everyone would see them.

I knew that, so why did I feel exposed in a way?

Although my shoulders had gone stiff for a while and I had paused, I didn't answer her.

With my plate of food in hand, I started walking towards the door but Aponi's voice stopped me.

"What are you playing at?"

"Stop..."

"No, Kaya. Stay out of this," she said, causing the younger woman to sigh before getting off her stool.

"Alright, I will," she said, before switching to speak in a language I didn't understand but the cubs at the foot of the island seemed to understand.

They had sensed a tension between Aponi and I and had been staring at us for a while.

Kaya got them to get up.

They packed up their crayons and roll up their cardboard before following Kaya out of the kitchen.

When she and the girls were gone, it was just me and Aponi in the kitchen alone.

"Come sit," she said, gesturing to the space Kaya had left a while ago.

She smiled a bit but her passive-aggressive demeanor hadn't left her eyes.

I looked at the seat she was offering me and then the door.

I would have left but something in me wanted to respect her and do as she wished.

I walked over the kitchen island before dropping the plate and the mug I had with me on the smooth stone surface.

"Do you know where Ahote is?" I asked as I looked out of the kitchen window and into the garden.

No one seemed to be up and about and I couldn't figure out where else Ahote would be at this time.

"He went for a walk with Lapu."

"Oh," I said, remembering his brother who was now good friends with me.

I couldn't help wondering what they were talking about.

"So, what do you want out of this?" Aponi asked, repeating her question from before and bringing me out of my thoughts as I settled down on the high stool.

I looked at her, cocking my head to the side as my lips bent down in a little frown.

"What do you think having a relationship with Ahote will achieve?"

"I'm not sure what to say. I think it's insulting that you're suggesting that I want something out of this," I replied and she rolled her eyes, licking her lips before bringing the mug of tea she had in her hands to her lips.

"I love him," I said after a while, and that seemed to throw her off.

Her eyes went wide and her hands shook when she pushed her mug aside even though she tried to disguise that by drumming a bit on the table with them.

"You're not his mate."

Those were her words but it felt like she was saying 'that's not possible' and it stung a bit.

"I'm not pretending to be his mate. I said I love him," I said, trying to make her see the shakiness of her stance.

"You can't love him if you're not his mate," she insisted.

"Well I do," I said with equal conviction.

"He has a mate," Aponi said in a small voice like she was trying to break things down for me as she would do for a child.

She leaned forward, making her long dark hair fall around her long face as she gave me a blank look.

"And his mate's a little lost right now but that won't last very long..."

"It's been five years," I said with a frustrated groan, cutting her off.

"Sorry," I muttered when I realized I had been rude and had surprised her.

"What I'm trying to say is," Aponi went on, picking at the bracelet made of string that she had on her hand.

"He has someone for him and I know it can be confusing and depressing for someone who's in your situation..."

I lowered my eyes, just knowing she was referring to the fact that I was mate-less.

"Ahote's hurt right now and like you've mentioned it's been a while but I'm sure Honon will come to his senses sooner or later," she said, and I raised my eyes to meet her dark ones.

"And I think he has in a way," she said, shifting her weight on her stool.

The kitchen went silent for a while.

A lot was on my mind but I was holding my tongue.

As much as I disliked how I was being treated by her I still wanted her to like me.

I still wanted the person Ahote saw as a sister figure to accept me.

"I wrote to him a few weeks ago about what's been happening and I mentioned Elan. He didn't know about him. I'm not sure if Ahote ever told you that," she said.

"He has," I said in a small voice and Aponi seemed a little shocked that he told me.

Ahote and I had talked about it and I think even though it seemed shocking that Elan's father didn't even know he existed, Ahote had good reason to keep that information from him.

My eye moved to watch as Aponi reached out for a rag to dab her lips.

'She told Honon.' I said in my head, realizing the gravity of her words.

I wondered if Ahote knew about it.

No, he possibly couldn't.

If he did, he and Aponi would be having a match at this moment.

"Anyway," Aponi started again.

"He wrote back to me and he said he's coming as soon as he can. He gave me a time frame. He should be here in a few days."

The blood in my face drained when I heard her words.

Honon was coming back?

She asked him to come back.

Why would she do that without asking Ahote?

"I know why you're here and why you're doing all this," she said after a while.

Did she really?

"You want to belong somewhere. The intercourse, the markings... they're not going to make you Ahote's mate."

Her facial features softened.

It looked like she seemed sorry for what she just said.

"You don't need a pack, a mate or cubs," she went on.

"You don't need any of that and I'm sure you'd know that having been living without all those things for a long time. Find a human girl, have kids, I don't know..." she groaned, shrugging her shoulders as her thick brows formed a little frown.

"What are you trying to say?" I asked.

My voice shook a bit and came out a bit raspy like I was holding in a cry.

"What I'm saying is. You can have a life. A great life without a mate," she said.

"Just not with Ahote."

"Does Ahote know that Honon is coming?" I asked, refusing to address the last few strings of words she had said to me.

She was indirectly asking me to cut things off with Ahote.

I wasn't going to... as much as I wanted to be in her good books, I wouldn't even think of it.

My mind was more on what she had done in the name of making sure things didn't work out with us.

Her frown deepened but she answered me.

"No he doesn't."

"Alright," I said before getting off the stool and staring down at her from across the kitchen island.

"That's all I needed to know," I said, picking up my mug and plate before leaving the room.

The calm composure I had displayed broke down immediately after I closed the door of the room I was staying in.

I dropped my food on the dresser and started panicking.

Honon was coming back.

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notably-rainbow · 3 years

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did anyone else randomly go through a phase in middle school where you mentally only referred to yourself with the royal we pronouns or was that just me being stupid again

#like i’d literally be thinking and say oh we have to get more lined paper or something #now that i think about it maybe i should’ve found out some things about myself sooner #i don’t think i did this bc she her pronouns yucky but maybe??? why did i do this????#honestly i try not to remember middle school those were trying times #the random blacking out definitely helped #i do sometimes still worry about what i said in those times but oh well #i’m sorry to everyone who sees me on their dash tonight idek why i’m acting like this i’m simply feeling a type of way #i spent thirty minutes thinking about if i could fit under my bed and so i made a fort and hung out there so you know somethings up #is #wait i keep getting distracted the suggested tags are hilarious wtf #is this becau #nvm i’ve forgotten what i meant to say the point is i’m sorry if you’re seeing anything i post tonight i hope your day improves

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angelguk · 3 years

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OMg angst thoughts for jock couple...one of them (probably oc) most likely got stood up for a date bc jk has trainings so oc goes on a spiral thinking abt what if theyre just in this relationship cos its comfortable for them and like theyve known each other the longest and maybe theyre dating bc of some twisted ver of stockholm syndrome n oc gets all 😔😔💔😡 and starts ignoring jk for some time

i have been mulling over this for awhile (i think you also sent a follow-up angst ending but lets set the scene first shall we)

pairing: jock!jk and oc

warnings: angst, poor communication, oc being insecure and jk being clueless (and kind of an asshole)

soundtrack: antidote by gas dapperton

(titled — bite the hand that feeds the heart)

You’ve tapped your phone on roughly ten times now, narrowed eyes staring at the time with each lighting of your screen. Every minute that ticks by sinks deep into your heart, clawing something open there, ribs struggling to keep your feelings contained. But you can feel them swelling at the brim of your gaze, eyes blinking harsh under the subdued tawny glow of streetlights. You kick you shoes against the ground to speed up time, pressing your back into the hard brick wall behind you, searching for some sense of support. Even with your mindless excursions, the time still drags on, shifting from ten to fifteen to thirty idle minutes waiting for your lover.

He turns the corner the second you decide to give up and go home.

“Hey!” Jeongguk’s hair dances in the night wind, delicate curls lifting gracefully. “Sorry–sorry! Coach kept us late for a team meeting and then Yoonoh wanted to borrow my notes and then I found out I had an essay due which I had no ide–”

“It’s okay.” You cut him off with an iciness, kicking yourself off the wall, your dark sweater coddling your frame. Autumn was seeping in, once vibrant green trees falling into hues amber and gold. This was your favourite season, the slow quiet onset of winter warming your heart. But that feeling is absent now, your face sent in a scowl as you trudge towards the nearest convenience store, eyes focused on the bright white luminescence of it not bothering to check if Jeongguk is following you.

You can’t see it but he’s staring at the back of your head strangely, lips twisting down with concern.

When he grabs your arm, easily linking it with his, you nearly shrug him off.

“Hey,” Jeongguk tries, tone ginger. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to be late, but today was he–”

“You could have texted.”

“I–I I know, I just for–”

“It’s fine, Jeongguk,” you snap, finally giving into the urge to shove him away. “It’s fine. You just keep doing this and I hate it.”

You steady walk forward is interrupted by him yanking you back, twisting you around to face him.

“Doing what? Is it my fault that I’m busy all the time?”

“No,” you spit. “I understand that. But you keep thinking I’m just gonna be around waiting for you forever, Jeongguk and that’s not fair!”

The sigh that drifts from his lips irks you. Like you’re the inconvenience to him when all you’ve done is rearrange your world to fit him at the centre.

“God what is your issue? I’m late a couple times and suddenly I’m the villain?” His eyes are hard, jaw set like this has been stuck in his throat for a while and the words are ecstatic to be let out.

“Literally fuck off,” it’s there already, the edge you’ve been slipping on since this all started. At first it was a quiet worry, mulling at the back of your head, but lately, ever since Chayoung opened her big fat mouth it’s grown louder. Insistent to be heard, demanding to break this gentle thing in your hands. “You’re being a dickhead right now.”

“Me?” Jeongguk huffs. “You’re the one complaining about something useless.”

“Useless? My time is useless to you?”

You see it flash in the honey of his eyes, quick enough that you might have missed it had you blinked. “What the hell is this about?” Jeongguk whispers. He’s reaching out for you, hands looking for an anchor. “Why are you so cryptic all the time? Why can’t you just tell me what the problem is?”

Maybe he’s right, because you’re not being honest here. But admitting it to him means admitting it to yourself and you’re too afraid to do that. Too afraid to lose the most precious thing to you, to your heart.

“Cryptic? If you even fucking listened to me for one sec–”

“I do!” Jeongguk returns, eyes narrow. “You just say things and never mean them.”

That gets you, heart stopping dead in your chest. You suddenly wish you could take it all back; the kiss on the rooftop of his apartment, the nights you spent in his bed learning the taste of him, the murmurs of love you’d left on his skin. Because did they mean anything? Did you even truly love him?

That question burns in your head, splits your heart right open, bleeding through the cracks of your ribs.

“You should go home,” you finally murmur. Jeongguk blanches, doe eyes wide.

“What–what? Y/N what the hell are you talking about?”

“Go home,” you repeat, twisting your head away. You can’t look at him cause if you do you’ll cry and you don’t want Jeongguk to see you like that. He grabs your shoulder, you rip his hand away. “Go home, Jeongguk! I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

For second there’s a moment of silence, you take it and start walking forward, up the to convenience store. A whisper in your head tells you he’ll follow, force you to talk to him, share the secrets mauling your heart. But then you hear the scrap of his sneakers against the pavement, fading away instead of drawing close. You walk until you’re at the top of the hill, frame illuminated by the stores bright lights. You look back then, hoping he’s still there. Your gaze finds an empty road instead, copper leaves skipping through the breeze. He’s gone, left you alone to drown in this, like the louder voice in your head knew he would.

#au: jock!jaykay #jungkook x reader #jungkok angst #well....#not all sunshine and rainbows for this couple unfortunately #hope i got ocs sudden realisation of... do i love him or is he just familiar to me right #bts x reader #bts angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario

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manonblaqkbeak · 2 years

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The Start of the Future

hello, hope you’re all doing well!!

can you believe it, i’m back with a rowaelin fic?? what a surprise to probably no one bc those two have me by the throat and i cannot think of any other characters to write for lol

just something short and sweet for tonight! enjoy!

599 words

AUTHORS NOTE: morning breath does not exist in my fics lol

It wasn't often that Aelin woke up before Rowan on the weekends, but with the winds bringing in the scent of wildflowers through their balcony windows, Aelin's eyes fluttered open as she stretched and turned over to look at Rowan.

Her mate slept peacefully, his face soft as it always was in sleep.

Inching over to be closer to him, Aelin lightly traced his tattoo, starting from his temple and down the sharp slope of his jaw.

His eyes cracked open, his dark green eyes finding her immediately. Turning his head, he kissed her palm. “Good morning, Fireheart.” Aelin shivered in delight at the roughness of his morning voice. It just did something to her.

“Good morning, Buzzard.” Leaning over to kiss him, Aelin moved even closer, resting her head on his pillow, breathing in his pine and snow scent.

The familiar scent that she loved settled within her, and as she watched Rowan wake up, a decision she had been thinking about for the past week had solidified. Rowan played with the end of her hair, curling the strands around his finger.

“Rowan?” she asked.

“Hmm?”

“Rowan, I've been doing a lot of thinking this last week, and I just want you to know that I'm ready.”

Rowan stopped playing with her hair, his eyes widening. “Fireheart, are you saying...?”

Aelin smiled brightly at him. “I'm ready to start trying for children. I want to start that future with you, Rowan. I want to start our family.”

Rowan's eyes sparkled at her words and he pulled her in for a kiss that she felt from the top of head to the tips of her toes.

“Are you ready, though?” she asked, just wanted to hear him say it too.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, I'm ready.” He kissed her again and Aelin melted into his touch, sighing happily as his tongued touched hers, his hands running and down the length of her body.

In a blink of an eye, she was under him, spreading her legs so that Rowan could fit comfortably between them. One hand stayed tangled in her hand but the other trailed down her body, teasing her entrance.

“It will take a while,” Rowan reminded her, pulling away, their lips still touching.

“I know; I'm prepared for the frustration and sadness of when nothing happens, but whether it takes five years or thirty, I'm ready.”

Rowan kissed every inch of her face, his fingers resuming their teasing. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I can't wait to start this journey with you.”

Rowan returned the sentiment, kissing her with every ounce of love that he felt for her—the love that only grew every minute, every hour, every day, every year.

It had been ten years since the war, and ten glorious years with his mate.

The soon-to-be-mother of his children. Five, if his dream came true.

They spent the entire day in bed, starting that very future.

And as the time went by and nothing happened, Rowan held Aelin to him as she expressed her frustration, her misery, and promised that it would happen one day.

And when that day arrived a little over three years later, Rowan held her even closer and kissed her and breathed her in, and breathed in the new scent of the life that they created together.

He would never forget the times she told him that she was expecting, and would always hold those words close to his heart, his soul.

He would remember those words even in the Afterworld.

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #filling the void in my heart with some fluff lol #throne of glass fanfiction #my work

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duskholland · 3 years

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Y/n has a disagreement with frat!tom, she drowns her sorrows and then frat!tom takes care of drunk y/n

ah...a classic. cw: alcohol + angst w a happy end. pls don’t do this irl--communication is key in any balanced relationship! don’t drown your sorrows <3

frat!tom night !!

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Tom: I’m sorry Tom: I didn’t mean to upset you Tom: can you just text me back Tom: please

You drag your index finger over the lock-screen of your phone, giggling slightly as you watch Tom’s texts wobble. Your eyes are tired and unfocused, your head spinning, and your objective of getting absolutely hammered has been well and truly achieved. You’d surpassed your limits an hour ago, if you’re being honest with yourself, but your bottle of tequila had been calling your name, and now you’re out of your mind. You’re just glad that your roommate is at her boyfriend’s for the night so she doesn’t have to witness your heartbroken breakdown.

Another two texts bumps up to the top of the screen, startling you.

Tom: I’m worried about you Tom: can you just let me know that you’re okay?

You sigh loudly, then begrudgingly pick up your phone. You open the texts sent from Tom, your boyfriend — or, ex-boyfriend…? — and read over them again, eyes hazy. You decide not to reply, and to instead leave him on read, because what else are you supposed to do?

With a heavy sigh, you lie back on the floor and stare at the ceiling of your dorm. You groan as you think over the events of the day again, your mind heavy and lethargic.

It’d been a stupid argument with Tom, about god knows what. Spring break, you think. He’d changed his mind last minute, and instead of going to Mexico with you and a few friends, he now wants to go back to London to spend time with his family. He also wants you to go back with him, to meet his parents and his brothers, and, in typical Tom fashion, had failed to mention that he’d changed your flights on your behalf.

It doesn’t matter now. All that matters is you’d spent a very unpleasant thirty minutes at the frat house earlier, exchanging sour words of disapproval with your boyfriend, who couldn’t be bothered to hear your side of the story. You’d ran away when you’d realised you were just going in circles, and now you’re here: red-eyed, drunk, and alone. The realisation makes you hiccup, and you feel your eyes well up again.

There’s a loud knock at the door, and you startle.

“Fuck,” you mutter, quickly standing up. You toss the bottle of alcohol under a blanket and wipe at your eyes, cursing yourself for looking like such a mess. You hope it’s just a neighbour, concerned about the breakup song playlists and the loud volume of your crying, and not an RA about to bust you for possession of alcohol in a college dorm.

It turns out to be neither, and you scowl as you open the door just to see Tom standing beyond it. His eyes snap up, his expression springing into one of surprise as if he hadn’t expected you to open the door. There’s a light blue beanie sitting on his head, but he whips it off and holds it between his hands as he rocks back on his feet and swallows

“Y/N…. Look, I’m so sorry.” He looks so small, with his figure covered in grey sweats and a white t-shirt. He has a red jacket shrugged over the top too, but his posture is slumped and diminished. His eyes are pink. “I was such a twat. I don’t want us to break up over this, and I don’t want you to hate me, either. I’m sorry.” His gaze narrows as his eyes twist over your figure. “Wait, are you drunk?”

Your eyes bulge, and you instinctively reach out to grab his arm. You jerk him into your room, chastising him in a loud whisper about the presence of your pesky RAs, and then you lean back against the door, facing the main body of the room where Tom’s now pacing.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you manage, tongue feeling thick in your mouth.

Tom finds the bottle of tequila you’d thrown in your bed as he straightens up the duvet, turning on you with a frown on your face.

“You shouldn’t be drinking on a Tuesday night,” he mutters. “Is this my fault?”

You shrug. “No,” you say. “Pretty sure I’m the one who did the drinking.”

Tom winces, then slowly takes off his jacket. He approaches you gently, extending two hands towards you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice exhausted. You hate how heartbroken he looks, so you reach out and join together your fingers, pulling him a little closer. Tom walks all the way to you, folding into you until he’s squeezing your hands and has his forehead pressed against yours. “I’m sorry for being a dick, and not speaking to you about spring break first.” His thumbs run over the backs of your hands. “And I’m also sorry for being a twat and not listening to you properly.”

You have to close your eyes, finding it too hard to focus on his face when it’s pushed so near to you.

“I’m too drunk to have this conversation with you,” you mutter. You drop one of his hands and feel him freeze before you shift it up to his hair. You’re quiet as you play around with his brown curls, finding comfort in the familiar softness. “I’m sorry too, though. I feel like shit. I shouldn’t have been so angry about it all…” You break off, feeling your eyes water as your voice thickens. It’s just a whisper as you add, softer, “I don’t want to lose you over this, Tom.”

He pulls back, and you’re able to meet his eyes as he reaches up to cup your warm cheeks in his hands. You aren’t angry anymore—now that he’s here, looking at you so softly, you just want to move on and fall straight back into his arms.

“You’re not losing me, darling. You could never lose me,” he murmurs. He leans in and kisses your forehead softly, letting his lips linger there for a moment. “Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”

You nod. “Okay,” you agree, suddenly feeling very attached to the idea of curling up beneath the covers and sleeping.

“Wait, wait.” Tom’s gentle hold on your waist makes you stop. “Bathroom first. You’ve still got makeup on.”

You pout as you coo, nodding. “Can you take it off for me?”

“Of course, love.”

You’re glad for the en-suite in your room. Despite it being a tight fit, Tom’s able to come in with you. He sits you on the closed toilet seat and tenderly dabs at your face, stripping back the smudged makeup as he cracks a few light jokes and murmurs soft words of praise. He watches as you brush your teeth, standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your front, lips brushing over your neck in featherlight kisses as he meets your eyes in the mirror and your heart flutters in your chest. Despite your complaints, he even convinces you to down two glasses of water.

“Aren’t you getting in too?” You whine. He’s standing beside your single bed, hands on the top of the duvet as he finishes tucking you in. You do your best to look innocent and fragile, blinking up at him through wide eyes. “It’s cold…”

Tom hesitates.

“Do you want me to?” He asks. When you nod your head enthusiastically, he smiles softly. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow morning and realise that it’s not what you wanted.”

You shake your head. “I won’t,” you say, knowing it to be true. “Just… if you’re worried about overstepping, don’t kiss me or anything. I won’t be mad if you sleep here.”

He smiles as if he finds the compromise agreeable, then kicks off his shoes and pulls off his shirt. You try to wolf whistle, only for the sound to come out flat and failed, and he laughs loudly.

“Did you just try to whistle at me?” He teases.

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

“Maybe.”

Tom slips into bed beside you. It’s a tight fit, but you’ve spent enough nights together on your single mattress to know exactly what you have to do. You don’t hesitate to curl into his side, throwing a leg over his body as you rest your face against his arm and press your hand to his chest. Tom reaches over and flicks off the lamp before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

“I love you,” he says, the moment it’s dark and you’re both settled. “I love you so much, baby.”

You coo, unable to control the unruly smile that tugs at your lips.

“Love you too, Tom,” you murmur. “You’re so warm.”

He chuckles, light fingers rubbing circles over the top of your arm. “And you’re just lovely.”

You melt, burrowing your head further into his side. Beneath your palm, you can feel his heartbeat, pulsing gently.

“You know, the only reason I was so mad earlier was because I was scared of meeting your parents,” you admit, voice soft. “It’s not because I don’t want to spend time with you, Tommy. I do. All the time. But it’s scary to think about how I could do something to fuck this up. It’s scary sometimes... to think about how much I love you.”

You feel his lips touch the top of your head.

“Do you want to know a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m scared too. That’s why I changed the flights without speaking to you. I was scared you wouldn’t want to come with me and take the next step with me.” Tom breaks off, sighing. “I’m a fucking idiot, though. Still should’ve spoken to you about it.”

You hum gently. “As long as you look after me, and make sure I’m okay, then I’d love to come and meet your family.” You tilt your face up and lean closer until you’re able to deposit a clumsy kiss to his sharp jaw.

“Of course I’d look after you,” Tom assures. “But you don’t need to be scared. They’ll love you, because I love you, and I think you’re the most wonderful person in the world, Y/N.”

You curl in closer, stifling a yawn. “Love you too.”

“Precious,” he mumbles. You feel him urge you nearer, warm kisses falling over your head again and again. “Go to sleep, babe,” he urges. “I’ve got you.”

You sigh contentedly. “Will you still be here in the morning?” You whisper, relaxing fully into his hold.

“‘Course. I’ll even get you breakfast.”

You smile against his chest. “Fuck yeah,” you murmur. “G’night.”

“Night, princess.” Tom rests a hand on your arm, and you sink into it. “Sweet dreams.”

#this is almost 1.8k....can i even call it a blurb at this point fdkjhfdkj #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader blurb #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #myblurbs #tomblurbs #frat!tomfic #tom.sfw #queue

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softomi · 3 years

Text

now accepting boyfriend applications.

based on my fic idea: you’ve just become newly single, in a drunken fit, you posted a status indicating you’re accepting applications for your next boyfriend. Oddly, three boys take you up on that; sending in their most professional resumes for the position. It seems there’s some fierce competitors.

next up: literature

It hurt, why wouldn’t it hurt. Your boyfriend of almost two years dumped you over text message with no warning and his reason? He just wasn’t feeling it anymore, what the fuck. Well, twenty phone calls, a hundred text messages sent to him, and a pretty nasty voicemail. The moment you realized just how crazy you were being was when you began pounding on his door at almost ten at night. His neighbors poking their head out to stare, and it really smacked you in the face how stupid you were being.

So you threw caution into the wind. it’s a Wednesday night, your first class tomorrow didn’t start until noon and you’re literature teacher was more of a lecturer so she probably won’t notice if you’re hung over. If anything, you could always ask the guy next to you for the notes.

Thus, you decide to throw back shots to your heart’s desire, sitting in the middle of your tiny studio apartment, on your bed to scream and cry at the romance movie. Love is dead. You groan loudly when your neighbor knocks against the wall, trying to tell you to promptly shut the fuck up.

Halfway through the movie, your mind is already swaying. Your throat stings just momentarily and you sip your cheap wine in hope it’ll dull the shots you had taken previously. When the male protagonist kisses the beautiful female of his dreams, you promptly chug the rest of the wine in your glass. Upset at their love, you wrap your lips around the tip of the wine bottle, drinking straight from it.

“I can find someone better.” You’ve reached a different point in your post break up sadness, you were mixed with anger, sadness, and an overall feeling of I’ll find someone with a better dick.

It’s never a good decision to post on social media while drunk, but it’s a great decision right now. You were going to post a ‘newly single’ status. Just to be nice and not spam everyone, you think you’ll just post it to your private account for your five friends to see. You’ve clearly neglected that step when you press post and it uploads to your public twitter account.

The urge to hurl takes priority over the sudden notifications on your phone. Your hair disheveled as you’re trying to hold onto the toilet, hold onto your hair, and throw up at the same time. The romance film comes to an end once you’ve fully emptied your stomach. You shove all the things off your bed, food falling onto the floor, empty bottle of wine rolled under your bed, remote lost somewhere. You fall asleep despite your cell phone going off.

The alarm jolts you, it causes you to scream, your palm slapping the snooze button and you aggressively pull the wire so that it comes out of the socket. Your head is throbbing and your cell phone is ringing at the same time. Annoyed, your hand stretches along the bed trying to find your cell. When you come emptyhanded, you sit up. Your hand steading the pulsing of your brain and you spot your phone ringing and vibrating on the ground.

“What?” You spit out, not bothering to look at the contact as you try to block out the sun.

“What do you mean what?” The voice snaps at you, “You post about boyfriend applications all of a sudden, did you guys break up?”

Of course he would be the one calling you, the person who loves gossip more than you do, “Tooru, can you like shut up for a second.” Your brain is dying and he’s over here trying to get the latest dish on your love life, “He dumped me okay.”

“That asshole.” He gasps, “Do you want me to come over?”

You look at the time on your cell briefly, “No. I have class all day. If you’re free later?”

“Of course!”

The phone call ends and rather than getting ready for the class you have in an hour, you’re checking your notifications. You have about twenty missed calls from Oikawa, another thirty text messages from him, he even left a voicemail; god he must have been desperate. Facebook is bland, you spent most of your time on Instagram deleting the photos of your now ex, and rarely do you ever get Twitter notifications. Oddly, you have fifteen notifications; all coming from your public account.

haha, boyfriend applications are official open. only taking serious apps lol

“No.” You sit up.

It wasn’t your post that freaked you out, it wasn’t that somehow it ended up on your public account, no you could delete it and pretend as if no one saw it but people saw it.

Is she serious?

If she is, I’m down.

What does serious applications mean?

Three comments, five likes, and four retweets.

And three unread messages.

Your finger rushes to delete the tweet before it can be retweeted even more by random classmates. All was good now. Your finger presses onto the message icon, you’re confronted with the icons of three of your classmates.

The most recent is from Miya Atsumu, a terrible flirt in your biology class. He chose the seat next to you in lab when his friends ditched him and hoarded their own table. He spun around in his chair, shooting you a cheeky grin when you briefly looked at him.

His first sentence was, “Hey you’re cute.”

And yours was, “I have a boyfriend.”.

You skip over his message upon spotting his use of sweetheart in the preview.

The next icon is of the guy in your intro to business class, Kuroo Tetsuro. The first time you saw him was outside of the classroom, you two ended up accidentally reaching the doors at the same time. He lets you go in first and the both of you chose the seats farthest from the board, and closest to the door. Despite his bed hair that made him look like he was going to sleep the entire class, he was a rather studious guy; chill but smart, he was a business major after all.

“Did you understand anything he was saying?” You murmur to him as you grab your bag.

“Of course!” He states, “I don’t look at twitter on my laptop when he’s lecturing.” Ah, he caught you.

Your eyes briefly scan the preview, he’s saying something about a resume and you think he’s talking about the homework assignment. You’re about to click on his first when the last catches your eye.

It’s from Akaashi Keiji. On the first day of class, you were late due to waiting in line for coffee. You awkwardly opened the door to the classroom, everyone turning to stare, and you lower your head, choosing a random seat that now you’re stuck with for the rest of the semester because that’s just how college works. The professor goes over the syllabus and suddenly announces that the person sitting to your right will be your revision partner for the semester.

“Hey.” You stop him and for a brief minute you feel your heart skip a beat because he was absolutely pretty, “Sorry, I’m Y/n. Since we’re going to be partners, do you want to exchange info?”.

“Uh. Sure. I’m Akaashi Keiji.”

“I’m going to be late for my business class. Do you have twitter?” You were never a fan of giving your phone number out. Before he can answer, you’re scribbling your username onto a piece of paper, placing it on his desk before running out to catch your next class.

His message is brief: Did you get my email?

You click his message first; it must have been urgent if he messaged and emailed you. There’s nothing else to his message, his previous one dates almost a week before his current one, telling you that he finished reading the book you recommended and that he enjoyed it.

The screen is pulled up with your finger, alternating apps to your personal email. The subject of his email simply reads Application.

Curiously, you click the attachment he’s sent with no body text. Your jaw dropped, hand placed over your open mouth and a small scream emitting.

“Is he fucking serious?”

His name is displayed at the top, along with his birthday, star sign, zodiac sign, age, even the pronouns he uses. There’s a short sentence under it. I am submitting an application for the position of Boyfriend. You’re internally screaming, blinking fast hoping that this was a joke but his ‘application’ reads like a resume. It lists his education from middle school to his current, his previous jobs, his skills, and his own personal goals for the future.

Your blushing profusely, you want to pull your hair, scream, even throw your phone but you shove down the feelings that want to have you die of embarrassment. You don’t have the energy to sadly explain to him that you were drunk and weren’t serious; ugh and you’re going to have to continue seeing him for the rest of the semester.

You revert back to twitter; your heart suddenly drops when you think about Kuroo’s message. Quickly, you pull up the messages, clicking his and suddenly you want dig yourself a grave because he’s sent a link to a pdf and it’s simply titled Resume. He probably used a resume template and never changed the title.

And sure enough, it’s a fucking professional resume declaring the certain skills he has to be your boyfriend. In fact, like the professional business major he is, he includes a letter of intent; indicating his reasons of interest for the position. It details the little quirks he finds cute about you. You want to break your phone in half with how red in the face you feel.

As you exit his message, you’re slowly praying that Atsumu’s message is just a random flirty comment that he occasionally likes to throw you once in a while or perhaps you’re hoping that he fell in a ditch and you won’t have to work with him for the rest of the semester since he almost blew up the lab station last time.

Nope, it’s a link to a google document. Oddly, you click it. Your heart has sunk to the pit of the earth because when you open the document, you see his fucking name in the upper right corner indicating he’s still on the stupid document.

Fuck fuck fuck. You’re running away from the document, aggressively leaving the page but it doesn’t help that when you end up back at your twitter messages, you can see the three dots, telling you he’s typing.

Morning sweetheart hope you enjoy the app

He sends it with a flirty wink and you stare at it for five full minutes. Curiosity gets the best of you and you click back onto his link, he’s no longer on the same document and you sigh safely. For someone who’s barely passing biology, his document was rather professionally detailed. Damn, he’s on the school’s volleyball team? Weirdly the page cuts off halfway, you continue to scroll until the next title page boldly states: Bedroom skills.

It didn’t help that you were scrolling a little too fast and caught sight of an image showing off his toned upper body. There goes his professionalism.

Your phone suddenly blares low battery, your screen turns black and now your anxiety is through the roof. You jump on your bed, trying to plug in your phone and you’ve just now realized that it is thirty minutes until your first class starts and it is literature. You’re scrambling to find your laptop, you trip on the bag of chips from last night, awkwardly trying to stand as you reach for your school bag.

“Shit!” You scream. You suddenly remember letting your stupid ex-boyfriend borrow your laptop.

You fall to the floor, fingers pulling your hair as you suddenly think about the deep shit your in. First, your boyfriend dumped you, now you randomly have three guys who sent you applications to be your next boyfriend and you’re still going to have to see them for the rest of the semester if you reject them. Lastly, you’re going to have to go to your ex’s place to get your laptop after having made a scene yesterday, and your phone is dead so you can’t cry to Oikawa about the deep shit you’re in.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #atsumu x reader #akaashi x reader #haikyuu scenarios #atsumu scenarios #kuroo scenarios #akaashi scenarios #kuroo #atsumu #akaashi #kuroo tetsurou #atsumu miya #akaashi keiji #hq #hq scenarios

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this-is-my-procrastination · 3 years

Note

hi honey! (●’◡’●)ﾉ could i request a oneshot with Dazai, and reader is just always sleepy? like if she sits still for longer than thirty minutes, she’ll be passed out? thank you!

pairing: dazai osamu x sleepy!reader

synopsis: sleepy y/n has trouble staying awake

request: hi honey! (●’◡’●)ﾉ could i request a oneshot with Dazai, and reader is just always sleepy? like if she sits still for longer than thirty minutes, she’ll be passed out? thank you!

a/n: omg im so sorry this literally took me 10 million years to finish!! i think i’ve rewritten this like more than four times at this point lmao but hopefully it turned out ok and you like it! as always, thank you so much for requesting ily <33

A pair of lips delicately brush your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, groggily blinking the sleep from your eyes as you slowly register the owner of the offending lips. To no one’s surprise, it’s Dazai’s smug face that beams back at you, grin softening as he teases, “Look who fell asleep again~ If you weren’t so cute, I might be offended y’know?” His playful pout causes you to giggle, your boyfriend already helping to make waking up so much less vexing than usual.

Retaliating to his teasing remarks, you attempt to ruffle his messy tuft of black hair but find that his head is sadly more than an arm’s length away, much to your dismay. Looking back down at your disheveled bedhead fondly, Dazai pulls you into his arms as you release a few indignant retorts. The movie you two were watching had been in its closing scenes, but when he looked towards you to ask your thoughts (and ask why you’d been so quiet after literally the first thirty minutes), he was met with your very cute, very endearing, very much asleep expression, eyes shut and mouth slightly ajar. Your head was adorably leaned against the crook of his neck, and he would prefer not to admit it, but he had spent more time than he realized just admiring your dozing features silently, appreciating and marveling at this human who made him feel so loved. Past Dazai would have scoffed at a serious romantic relationship that didn’t end in double suicide, but right now, the thought of not being able to spend peaceful moments like this with you was the most excruciating punishment he could possibly imagine. How could he imagine someone else when even just your sleeping face was so incredibly adorable to him?

Your freshly-awake ramblings brought him back to the present. Dazai lets his fingers drift and find its place loosely running down a stray strand of your hair, twirling it cheerfully as he listens to you continuing on.

You suddenly stop your rant, staring at him with an amused expression on your face before you gently prod his side, “What’re you so deep in thought about?” You pondered the possibilities, “Could you be thinking about what to eat? I’m pretty hungry too after that nice nap!”

“No, no,” Dazai dramatically denies your question, waving his hand dismissively, “Well - I’ll never say no to a snack, but I was actually mesmerized! You just look so cute when you’re sleepy~”

You playfully roll your eyes, nudging him with a teasing “uh-huh.”

“Is that why I can get away with falling asleep around you?” your smile is warm as you meet his eyes, and Dazai’s heart quickens just slightly, “I told you that you can wake me up since I sometimes fall asleep before I realize. I appreciate you always taking care of me though, Dazai. You’re a very good boyfriend for that~”

Your praise is music to Dazai’s ears as his lips quirk into a smirk, “Oh-ho, am I finally getting the appreciation I’ve been deserving? I’m glad you finally noticed!” Your boyfriend’s hand pats your head affectionately, and you laugh aloud as he plasters a quick sloppy kiss to your forehead.

You’re about to playfully call him out for his touchiness but your boyfriend’s chest immediately puffs out theatrically, “But don’t you worry! I’m self-sworn to protect my sleeping beauty for as long as I live - actually, even from the grave!”

Dazai’s sudden knightly attitude cracks you up as you swiftly duck out from under his hand. You grin widely at his antics before matching his energy with a statement fitting for a true princess: “oh, ya - uh! ok thanks buddy! so then, Sir Dazai, lead the way to the kitchen and let’s make a mid-movie - oh, never mind the movie’s over - a post-movie snack!”

Dazai’s cheers ring through your apartment as he eagerly yet still surprisingly delicately, always being careful to keep you unscathed and present by his side, grabs your hand and escorts you into the kitchen.

The plan was to make brownies. So, why is Dazai furiously beating a bowl of grainy “whipped cream” that he’d made using a combo of water and specifically granulated, not confectionary, sugar? Why is more brownie batter on cabinet doors than in the baking pan? Why is the salt tipped onto its side, spilling its entire contents into some kind of abstract shape on the countertop?

One reason: food fight. Maybe your abundant sleeping habits had finally caught up to you, but you had never felt as invigorated and actively mischievous as you had when you’d swiped some brownie batter onto your boyfriend’s face. It was worth it! You think. You thought. Dazai’s brown hues absolutely shined with mirth at your pathetic attempt of provoking him. You were prepared for him to laugh it off and call you adorable, maybe naive for playing with fire, but ultimately he would chuckle and move on. Except, that did not happen. Instead, he had immediately retaliated with an even bigger glop thrown into your hair, partly accidentally and partly to be a li’l gremlin, and oh boy, it just escalated from there.

The whipped cream Dazai had whipped up for “quick ammunition” was quickly used up - Dazai scooped it, and the heap had seemed to grow impossibly bigger with every additional spoonful. Currently, his smile was widening and creepily stretching ear-to-ear as his starry eyes zeroed in on your vulnerable form.

The ruthless battle continued for a while, but after finally agreeing to a truce, you both couldn’t help but stare at the resulting mess with equally blank stares.

“Mm... okgoodnightbabe! I’ll see you in the morning!” You almost trip over yourself as you flee, throwing a cursory glance at your incredulous boyfriend before giggling and rushing to close the bedroom door before he can follow. Dazai’s whining carries through the solid wood, but you playfully call back, “I’ll give you anything you want - just pleasee do the cleaning! And if it’s too much, come to bed and we can deal with it in the morning together, ok?”

You could clearly picture Dazai’s pout in your mind as the sound of his footsteps fades towards the kitchen. Smiling fondly, you quickly change into your pajamas and hop into your shared bed to wait for his return. However, listening to the distant clanging of bowls and whooshing of the tap water proved to be an effective lullaby, and you couldn’t help it as your eyes began to flutter and eventually stay closed.

By the time Dazai finishes cleaning, the dark night sky was starting to brighten and mix with the warm oranges and reds of sunrise. He quietly opens your bedroom door and is met, not really to his surprise, by your sleeping lump of a body. Dazai’s brows furrow slightly, but he quickly notices the open book laying by your form and realizes that you had been up waiting for him. He could also tell you by the blankets messily strewn around you - usually you preferred having them wrapped around you like a tight burrito.

At that, Dazai lightly chuckles, his heart warming at the thought. He takes his time putting on a fresh set of clothes and rolls his eyes as he ever-so-gently tucks the blankets over you. The bed shifts as he climbs in carefully, but Dazai quickly freezes as you start to mumble quietly. Your words are inaudible, even as Dazai strains his ears to hear any (possible) secrets that you could be spouting. Shifting restlessly, you roll around and suddenly shoot out your arm, making an interesting grabby motion. Dazai almost lets out a laugh as he wonders what in the world you could be looking for, but his eyes widen when you make contact with your boyfriend and immediately calm down, hand gripping his shirt loosely.

As your body relaxes, Dazai feels a wide smile creep up his face, adoring and almost grossly soft. And he lets it. He just can’t help himself - he leans in and places an affectionate kiss on your forehead, lingering there before pulling back and squeezing next to you under the covers. He shifts your arm into a more comfortable position, and as you unconsciously flip to face him, Dazai’s eyes soften into a sweet but intensely warm chocolate brown. If you had been awake to open your eyes, you would have witnessed a rare but genuine sight: your boyfriend’s peaceful expression illuminated by the quiet sunlight of dawn, his eyes deeply staring into yours with endless messages of comforting assurance and happiness, and his lips subtly quirking into a tenderly loving smile shared only for the two of you.

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai osamu x you #dazai x you #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #reader insert #dazai oneshot

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

Text

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 9

Yay! Next chapter! True confessions, this *sorta* slow burn is killing me....and i’m the one writing it! (sorry not sorry?)

Warnings: some swearing, nothing really, Hvitserk being a good bro?

Words:7100 (I hope these longer chapters make up for the wait)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe

Series Masterlist

The ringing of her phone had Kari dropping the leggings she was folding on her bed to quickly snatch it up.

"Albus!"

The voice on the other end sighed. "You know I hate that nickname."

Kari laughed, picking the leggings back up to fold. "But it fits you so perfectly."

"I am not an old wizard."

"I'll give you that, but you're studious, kind and too wise for someone your age. So close enough."

"I suppose if I haven't been able to convince you to drop that nickname for the past ten years, I won't be able to now."

"Nope." She cheerfully said. "So, how are you? Your mother still wreaking havoc in your life?"

"She set me up on a date last week." He grumbled after a moment's hesitation.

In her mind, she could imagine him sitting at his desk with a slight furrow between his brows and lips pursed as he lamented his mother's involvement in his love life. This would not be the first time he complained to Kari about this topic. "Ohhhh? How did that go?" She asked, even if by his tone she could already guess his answer.

"I know my mother means well, but the women she thinks I should date…." He trailed off with a forlorn sigh.

"Not your type?"

"No."

"I'm sorry. You'll find someone and your mother won't be able to help but love them."

He snorted inelegantly. "I won't hold my breath for that."

"See, you're so wise." She teased, smiling as she folded a work shirt. "Now, what else is new since last month?"

The two spent the next hour talking. It had become their tradition after she moved. Hearing the gentle cadence in his voice, his quiet chuckles, it sent a wave of nostalgia washing over her. He was the only person from England she still kept in communication with, the only one who knew where she was. The last string tying her to her prior life. Although she would not have labeled him her best friend, they were certainly close and even more so after she moved. In their monthly conversations, they would chat about anything new in their lives, TV shows watched, books read, his latest exams in university. He always made sure to inform her what he knew about her family. Something she was grateful for but it always felt like a knife to the heart after.

As they talked, she finished folding her laundry, a necessary evil in her opinion. Once done with that, she moved on to the package she received in the mail today. It was addressed to her but the sender was a designer name she would never be able to afford in her lifetime. She shook her head, wondering what surprise the youngest Lothbrok had bought for her.

Listening to him regale her with the latest family drama of his, she opened the package and had to muffle a gasp at the two dresses that lay inside. The first was an off-the-shoulder, black skater dress that would reach mid-thigh in length. It was a classy and elegant cocktail dress that reminded her of the dress she wore on her and Ivar's "date" but way more sophisticated and stylish. It was the second dress that made her pause and wonder where Ivar thought she would ever wear something like this. It was a deep red evening gown, the hem long enough to trail slightly on the ground. The dress was gorgeous with a tight bodice and slight flair of the skirt. It was the slit in the skirt that touched her upper thigh and the sheer middle of the bodice that made Kari raise her eyebrows. The gown was the perfect blend of chic and sexy. What was Ivar thinking? She would feel so self-conscious and she never went anywhere fancy enough to wear it. Though as she stared at both dresses, she decided it never hurt to admire them on the hanger, even if she never got the chance to wear them. As her friend continued speaking, she hung both dresses up in her closet, making a mental note to talk to Ivar.

"It's probably good your brother moved out last year." She commented, tucking her laundry basket away in her closet.

"Yeah. He only comes over to the house if he has to." He said with a resigned sigh. After a long moment of silence, he spoke up again. His voice hesitant, almost remorseful, as what had been obviously on the tip of his tongue finally came forth. "Your mother has been talking about trying to find you again."

Kari froze, her mind shorting out and heart rate skyrocketing as his statement sunk in. "What…. what did she say?"

"Not much that I overheard." He confessed, sympathy in each word. "How much she misses her only daughter and feels abandoned by you. She has been telling people that you're doing charity work in another country when they ask about you."

"It's been almost two years… I hoped…" She slumped onto her bed, legs wobbling and mind whirling.

"That your mother would forget about you?"

"I don't know. I just…. I don't know."

Silence reigned for a moment before he spoke again.

"Are you ever coming home?"

"I…. I don't think that's home anymore."

"I miss you." He whispered.

Tears welled in her eyes. She took a deep breath forcing them back, but knew her shaky voice betrayed her. "I miss you too. Maybe you can come visit me here?"

"That would blow your cover."

"Could we meet up somewhere? You take a vacation or something?"

"I'll consider it…." His voice trailed off, only to come back stronger. "You know, when you wanted help to leave England, I thought it was just a temporary reprieve. I didn't imagine you would stay away."

It felt like a knife twisted in her gut, because he was right. She had never thought she would be gone this long. "I know…. I just…. I like my life here. I don't…. I don't want to go back to that."

He sighed as if giving up on convincing her to return. "I understand. I'll always be here for you. I still think of you as one of my closest friends."

"Same. We've known each other since we were thirteen. A few countries between us isn't going to stop that."

He chuckled. "Right. Well, I'll still hold you to your promise. If we're both unmarried by thirty-five, we'll have a courthouse wedding to keep our families off our backs."

"Sounds good." She laughed out, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I have to go. I'll text you about when we can catch up next month."

"Perfect. Stay safe, Albus."

"You too, Abs."

"Ugh! That nickname is worse than yours!" She groaned, hearing a small chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Bye!"

After hanging up, she stared at her phone for a minute, the smile fading as her mind revisited the conversation. The weight of everything slammed into her, her body no longer able to support her under the strength of her duress. She crumpled onto her bed, curling into a fetal position, tears streaming down her cheeks. It hurt that England no longer felt like home to her, but neither did where she currently lived. What hurt and confused her most, was when she thought of being home- Ivar's face filled her mind's eye.

*****

"Thank you everyone for coming to class today. I'll see you either tomorrow or next week."

With the lights still dim, Kari turned off the soothing water music over the speakers in the yoga studio room. The women who had been laying in corpse pose on their mats began to rise and gather up their personal items. A quiet murmur of voices replaced the music in the enclosed room. She waved at a few of the regulars as they left her class. Even if she was not the one doing all the poses, by the end of class she still felt refreshed and rejuvenated. It always brought her joy to see people come in, stressed or anxious, and leave her class with a smile on their faces or just looking less tense.

Through the mirrors along the wall at the front of the room, she could see the tall, statuesque blonde making her way over, yoga mat tucked under her arm.

"Hey, you doing anything for lunch?" Gyda asked, coming up beside her. Even in leggings and a tight tank top, she looked like someone off the covers of a women's magazine. All Kari could figure was it was in the Lothbrok blood.

"Um, working on inventory?"

"How about instead you come out to lunch with us?" She motioned vaguely towards Torvi, who was gathering up her yoga mat. "We planned on stopping at that new boutique down the strip. So, we can just meet you for lunch when you're done."

"Really?" The brunette was startled by the offer. Sure, she had gone out with Gyda a few times but never with Torvi too. The three would chat occasionally before or after class and she liked Torvi's no-nonsense attitude. They had flippantly made comments about the three of them going out but to actually hear they wanted her presence both surprised and warmed her heart. "Torvi is okay with this too?"

Gyda rolled her eyes. "Yes. So…. Yes? No? Don't leave me in suspense."

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"Great. Text me when you're done and we'll meet up."

"It'll be at least half an hour…."

Gyda waved her off, her voice growing louder. "That's fine. Torvi takes forever when she browses anyway."

"Sorry, I like to think through my purchases before I buy something!"

Kari smiled at Torvi's retort. The other blonde was checking her phone, a smile on her face though as she peered up at her sister-in-law and her yoga instructor.

"Are you joining us?" She called over.

"Of course, she is!" Gyda replied, before Kari could respond. "But she's only coming if you swear not to share any stories about you and Bjorn's kinky sex life. Nobody wants to hear that."

Without a word, Torvi gave her the middle finger salute, before looking back down at her phone.

Gyda chuckled then turned to raise an eyebrow at the shorter woman. "Unless you're into that kind of stuff…."

"Oh gods, Gyda! No!" Her face flushed at the thought.

"Hey, it's the quiet ones who are the kinkiest. I bet Ivar would like that." She laughed as Kari tried to swat at her. Taking a step back, she pretended to zip her lips. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Text me when you're done! We can meet at the café down the street. "

Kari waved at Torvi as the two blondes walked out of the studio room. Quickly, she hurried to finish tidying up. It had been a long time since she felt this excited to go out to eat with some female friends. A handful of times she had gone out with some coworkers or Lydia. In the beginning she was excited when Alana would invite her out with her friends to a club or bar but Kari quickly learned that was not her scene and began making every excuse possible to not be forced out with them. She always felt like an afterthought amongst the group, especially since getting drunk nor sleeping around was not her style. This time, she had high hopes for spending time with Gyda and Torvi. It would be nice to have female friends again.

The door to the studio room opened and Lydia popped her head in. "Almost done? You've got a visitor out here and he's causing quite the distraction." She said with a distinct shit-eating grin and wink before ducking back out.

"He?" Kari questioned out loud, although her mind suspected who it was. He was the only one who ever visited her. Slipping her phone into the pocket of her maroon leggings, she gave the room one final survey, wanting it to be ready for the next class before she left. With a nod, she headed out, the door swinging shut behind her.

In the large open area, she understood what Lydia meant by 'causing quite the distraction'. If she paused for a moment to drink the sight in, no one could possibly know, right?

Ivar leaned his shoulder against a wall, arms crossed over his chest with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to display his toned forearms. His dark locks were pulled back loosely in a man-bun, a few tendrils slipped free. Even in jeans, braces and smart-looking leather shoes, he looked quite handsome. With no cane in sight, it must be a good day.

Kari noticed more than one pair of eyes lingering on him from around the studio although he did not seem to notice as he stood there talking with Gyda and Torvi in hushed tones. The latter said something that immediately caused Ivar to narrow his eyes at her as he snapped a comment.

Even from across the room, Kari could read the tension in his frame and decided to intervene before he caused a scene. Walking over to them, aware of the many sets of eyes upon the group of three, she fixed a smile on her face. Once those intense, blue eyes locked onto her and his posture softened marginally, her smile transitioned into a genuine grin. "Hey, Ivar, what are you doing here?" She asked, coming to stand between him and Gyda.

"Do I need a reason to come see you?" He smirked down at her.

That look released butterflies in her stomach but she ignored them to tease him back. "Usually that's how it works."

"And if that reason is to fulfill my quota?"

The blush that rose to her cheeks was so hot, she wondered if you could fry an egg on her face. Immediately, she dropped her chin to her chest, willing the warmth to vanish.

"Hmmm…. that blush for me, kattungen?" He shifted closer so his mouth was near her ear, his question asked in such a lecherous tone, Kari felt her core clench.

"Shut up." She mumbled, pushing him away. He rocked back on his heels, a smug grin on his face, and an amused chuckle leaving his lips.

Gyda patted Kari's shoulder, drawing the brunette's attention upward again. "Text me when you're done. We'll leave you with this grumpy asshole. I'm sure you can think of a way to cheer him up." She winked as she took a step away.

For a moment, Kari wished the ground would open up beneath her. Between Gyda's teasing comments and Ivar's blatant remarks and heated looks, Kari's face was going to be permanently red in an endless flush.

"Good luck on your trip, Ivar." Torvi called over her shoulder as she followed Gyda.

"Oi! Tell Bjorn to keep his big fucking mouth shut!" He yelled after the blondes; the tension returned with Torvi's parting statement. Glaring at the door the two women passed through, he muttered something in a foreign language as he rubbed his hand over his mouth. Briefly, his thoughts seemed to take him elsewhere but he quickly snapped back, blue eyes finding Kari once again.

It was only something she had realized lately, but when he looked at her, that consuming and burning gaze landing on her with all the impact of a sledgehammer, it made her feel like the only woman in the room. It was such a cliché thing, something stupid out of a romance novel, but it was the only way she could describe the feeling. When he looked at her like this, nothing else mattered in the room. She had his whole attention, all his focus. It was heady and powerful and terrifying and astounding. The weight of others watching made her skin itch but with his gaze locked on hers, lips tilted up slightly in the hint of a fond smile, she felt in the eye of a hurricane.

Her blue-green eyes dropped to his chest, unable to maintain eye contact when it left her feeling so flustered. Tugging on her earlobe, she quietly asked. "What are you doing here? I thought I wasn't seeing you until you picked me up for dinner tonight?"

"Something came up." Silently, he reached over and grasped her hand, causing her head to jerk up. Intertwining their fingers, he watched her with regret in his eyes. "I have to fly out to Italy in two hours."

"Oh. Is everything okay?" That was not what she had expected to hear. Her heart plummeted that their dinner would have to be canceled but tried not to let it show.

"Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

"Um, sure." Emotions flickering between curiosity and concern, she guided him back to the studio room. The weight of eyes lingered as they walked, especially since he refused to release her hand. A brief glance at the front counter, only to see Lydia and Sasha both staring at her with amused and proud smiles, had Kari trying to hurry out of sight with Ivar in tow.

Soon as the door shut behind them, hiding them from view, he pulled her against his body, one arm wrapping around her waist, trapping her against him while the other hand gripped the back of her neck. He kissed her passionately, like a man dying of thirst and only she could save him.

"Ivar…." She tried to pull away, aware she was at work and anyone could walk in. Instead, he held her tighter, molding her body to his. The drugging kiss that followed had her all but melting against him, knees weak and her resolve disappearing like smoke in the wind. When she opened her mouth, inviting his tongue to dance with hers, the growl that erupted from him was so thready and rough, it called to a primal part of her, making her warm all over and a tightness grow in her belly.

It had been two days since they had seen each other and she genuinely missed him. They had been texting during that time, but it was not the same. She missed his presence, his touch, his kisses, his grumpy comments and the way he made her laugh. Even when he annoyed or frustrated her, he still was the color in her otherwise monochromatic world. And with each day that passed, her desire to push him away fractured a little bit more.

When their mouths finally unlocked, both panting and lips swollen and red, she was almost shocked the nearby mirrors were not fogged up. Breathless and overwhelmed, she pressed her forehead to his, her arms around his neck. For a minute they stood there peacefully, only the sounds of their ragged breathing and the occasional noise from those outside of the studio room broke through their tranquility.

"What's going on, Ivar?"

"Something with work."

"Does this have to do with why you've been so busy?"

He sighed but when he spoke in a hushed tone, the rage painting each word was undeniable. "Someone on the inside has been selling information about us." She gasped, shocked but when she tried to pull away to look at him, he tugged her back against him, placing his chin on the top of her head. "I think I know who the fucker is."

"That's why you're going to Italy?"

"Hmmm."

"Will you be safe?"

That made him chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Are you worried about me?"

She thought about making a joke, about teasing him about his recklessness. Instead the question knocked the air from her lungs momentarily, because the truth was, she was. What little she had gleaned about his work when he needed to vent, there was still an element of danger to it. She tipped her face up to look at him, her answer a quiet murmur that did nothing to hide the emotion behind her words. "Yes…. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt."

The amusement in his eyes drained to be replaced with a softness that made her heart clench. He inhaled sharply and glanced away for a moment. "Fuck, kitten…." When he turned back, he kissed her tenderly, a slow melding of their mouths like the taste of her was a fine wine he wanted to sip on endlessly. There was a promise in his action, just as much as his words when he finally whispered against her lips. "I'll be safe, just meeting with a contact. That's all."

"Okay, just please be careful." Worry still tainted her, but she trusted Ivar to keep himself safe. He had been doing this job far longer than she had known him.

"Don't tell anyone about what I've said. No one else knows."

"I promise. Not a word."

"Good girl." He swatted her ass, making her squeak and glare up at him. "I'm going to have Hvitserk check up on you later."

"That's not necessary." She tried to say. She would hate to be a waste of time for the older Lothbrok. The look he gave her said to not argue with him. "Fine," she dramatically sighed, "maybe him and I will watch movies and cuddle since you're soooo busy. I wonder if he'd think my bed is comfy enough or if the couch is better?"

"Don't you fucking dare." He growled, gripping her waist in a possessive hold.

She just laughed at how easy he was to wind up. It was mean and she knew it.

He nipped at her bottom lip. "Keep playing, Kari and I'll have to punish you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She batted her lashes at him, failing to suppress a childish giggle.

He rolled his eyes, the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. "I need to go." He softly said though he made no move to release her from his arms.

With that a wave of worry and fear cascaded over her, it was unfounded she knew, but it still threatened to drag her into its depths. Not giving it a second thought, she raised up on her toes to plant a lingering kiss on his lips.

"You're not helping." He muttered, never removing his mouth from hers.

"Maybe take the next flight?"

"Don't tempt me, vixen. I'll lock that door and have my wicked way with you right fucking here until everyone hears you screaming my name."

Between the image he painted in her mind and his mouth having moved to her pulse point, heated arousal pooled between her legs. She gulped, her mouth suddenly dry and words sticking to her throat.

He leaned back, a devious smirk on his lips at her obviously flushed face. "No, my priestess," he purred, a filthy, predatory glint in his blue eyes, she could not help but gasp as her knees threatened to buckle under her. "When I finally have you, it'll be somewhere I can both worship you and fuck you all night long without fear of being interrupted."

She let out a shaky breath. "But, um…. we…. ah."

"Soon, Vakker, blir du min." He kissed her roughly, as if sealing his words. "I do need to leave. Walk with me." He took her hand, leading her out of the studio room, giving her no choice but to walk beside him. Not that her brain was fully able to make coherent decisions at the moment.

As they walked towards the front of the building, she wondered if their make-out session was obvious. Her lips felt red and swollen and a blush still colored her cheeks. A glance at Ivar showed his lips fuller but he appeared so calm and collected it was unfair.

"Did you like the dresses?" He asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"I do. They both are gorgeous, but they're too much. I don't have a reason to dress up that fancy."

"With me, you will. I'll get you some casual dresses too."

"Ivar…." She whined.

"You need more clothes, Kari."

"Fine. Not because I want more clothes but because I know you'll buy them for me anyway."

He winked at her, his tone smug. "I always get my way."

"You're unbelievable."

They stopped beside his SUV, parked next to the sidewalk. His driver was already in the driver's seat waiting. Kari made sure to wave at the man, earning a nod back from him. The driver was a huge guy with long, thick locks of white hair and a scar on his face. He intimidated Kari but she tried to ignore that and be friendly. Even if Ivar made fun of her for it.

"I should be back tomorrow unless some shit comes up." Ivar stated, opening the back door.

"Okay. Be safe."

"Stop worrying. Shit. I'll be fine." He remarked, sliding into his seat. Before he closed the door, he met her gaze. "I'll text you."

She smiled in acknowledgment and stepped back, giving him a quick wave as she headed back inside and his SUV started off.

Lydia leaned against the front counter with Sasha and Alicia now, all three watching her with expressions ranging from amused to shocked.

"Um, I'm going to…. go on my lunch break now." She mumbled and hurried away to grab her purse from the office, the sounds of laughter following her.

The stray thought crossed her mind that she would need some new bras if Ivar was set on buying her new clothes. Not that he would see those bras, but it would be good to have…. and maybe some matching panties.

*****

Summer was transitioning to fall, cool undertones intermixed with the residual warmth of a September evening.

Kari stared at the book in her lap but the words blurred together no matter how many times she reread the same line. She loved reading outside, sitting on the small patio behind the townhouse, especially when none of the neighbors were out. She could pretend it was her own place of solace, being out in nature. The sunlight shined through the line of pine trees separating their row of townhouses from the ones behind them, bird songs mixed with the sound of traffic from the nearby roads. She much preferred this too being stuck indoors.

Today though, her mind drifted like the breeze, but it all centered on a conversation she had not even ten minutes ago. If she listened closely, she could hear Alana through the screen door, making her dinner in the kitchen. She knew it was not Alana's fault, but the conversation still felt like a rug had been yanked from underneath the brunette. With everything going so well in her life, of course fate had to throw her a curveball.

Now her mind scrambled as what to do next.

A sound from her left had her glance over to see Erik stepping out of his back door. A boyish grin lit up his face when he saw her.

"Hi, Kari. Beautiful evening, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is." She gave a half-hearted smile, watching as he closed the door behind him and stepped closer.

"Mind if I join you?"

She waved a hand at the patio set. "Not at all." Hopefully talking with Erik would be the distraction she needed for the moment, to pull her out of her quagmire of thoughts.

Dropping onto the cushioned chair to her left, he ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. In jeans and a t-shirt, he appeared ready to relax for the evening.

"What are you reading this time?" He asked curiously. This would not be the first time he had found her outside reading.

She reclined on the two-person, cushioned couch, legs up and bent with her open book resting against her thighs, wearing her typical leggings and slouchy shirt. At his question, she flashed him the cover. "The Princess Bride."

"Isn't that a movie?"

She pretended to gasp in horror. "Yes, but the book is still a classic."

He raised his hands in surrender, grin spreading across his face. “If you say. Not really my taste. So how was your day?"

"Nothing exciting. Yours?"

"The usual. Customers thinking they could do my job better than me."

She winced. "I know the feeling."

They made small talk for some time, talking about work and a documentary he recommended for her to watch. They argued which was the better coffee shop nearby, something they continuously disagreed on. Soon the upsetting conversation with Alana drifted to the back of her mind. It did not take long for her to close her book and set it on the ground so she could be fully invested in the conversation, especially when Erik became so animated about a topic, his hands waving around like a conductor in his enthusiasm. It was an endearing trait of his, but also alerted her to settle in because it meant he would not need much encouragement to keep talking.

The opening of the sliding door behind Kari stunted their conversation.

"Kari, someone is here for you." Alana said sweetly, stepping out onto the patio.

Unsure what she meant and since Kari never had visitors except for Ivar, she finally turned around. Only to be met with the view of Hvitserk leaning against the doorframe, a smirk on his lips. Standing there looking quite handsome in a dark navy business suit with a white undershirt, sans tie. Even his hair was nicely pleated back, making him look very professional and attractive.

"What are you doing here?" She asked in surprise, wondering if he just got off work.

Pushing off the doorframe, he meandered past Alana to approach Kari's side. "I came to check on you." He answered easily then scooped her up like she weighed nothing, making her squeal, and casually resettled them on the couch. Now he sat where she had been with her tucked against his side and his arm behind her. She also noticed how he purposefully put himself between her and Erik but chose not to comment on that.

"Ivar sent you, didn't he?" She grumbled, poking Hvitserk in the chest. "I told him it wasn't necessary."

"Well, you know him." He shrugged, that teasing smirk still adorning his lips. When she tried to poke him again, he snatched her hand and held it hostage, even as she tried to tug it back. Ignoring her, he turned his attention to Erik. "Hey, man. I'm Hvitserk."

"I'm Erik. I live next door." He responded warily, eyeing up the man as if debating to be friendly or not.

"Ah." With that understanding, Hvitserk seemed to give Erik a more assessing look before peering down at Kari. "You eat dinner yet?"

"Sorta. I'm not too hungry."

Alana spoke up from leaning against the other chair. "If you're hungry we can order something, Hvitserk. It's not a big deal."

Kari's head whipped around to stare at her roommate in shock. Never had Alana played the hostess to Kari or anyone she knew. Then she really noticed the coquettish look of her roommate- the fluttering lashes, the sensual biting of her bottom lip in mock innocence, the way she casually leaned against the chair in a way to best highlight the curves of her body. Kari wanted to sigh. Of course, the only reason Alana pretended to care was to try and entice Hvitserk. An attractive man in their home, it was as if Alana could not help herself.

Apparently the flaxen-haired Lothbrok noticed her flirtatious manner also. He tipped his head, eyes blatantly tracing over her body with appreciation. Kari could see the blonde preening under Hvitserk's gaze.

"Did I fuck you?"

What confident, amorous expression on Alana's face dropped in a second. "Excuse me?"

Hvitserk waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry, you seem familiar but I can't remember…. Did you fuck one of my brothers?"

Anger transformed her face, making her rigid and lip curled back in a snarl. "Fuck you, asshole." She shrieked, then stormed back inside, slamming the door shut.

He chuckled. "Huh. I take that as a yes…. ouch!"

Kari slapped his chest. "That was extremely rude and insensitive."

"Why? Because it's the truth?"

"You can't just…. ask something like that." She turned to look at the closed door, wondering if she should go apologize to Alana and check on her. After a moment's debate, she turned away from the townhouse, figuring seeking out Alana would most likely end up with a door slammed in her face.

Hvitserk shrugged, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking it before slipping it back in.

His nonchalance baffled Kari. Did he not care that he just humiliated her roommate? Should she make him apologize? Though she doubted he would. Finally, she settled for just muttering, "you Lothbroks are unbelievable."

"Oh, are you related to…." Erik's question trailed off. Where he once had been relaxed back in the cushioned chair, now he sat tensely, one of his hands tapping his knee repeatedly.

"Ivar? Yeah, he's my brother." Hvitserk said with a knowing smirk.

"He's, um…"

"A crazy, mad bastard? Yeah. Don't recommend getting on his bad side."

"I was going to say intense."

Hvitserk threw his head back as he laughed. Even Kari smiled at the hesitant way Erik answered. Intense was an understatement for the youngest Lothbrok. "Yeah, he's family."

Erik then motioned between Kari and Hvitserk. "So are you two…. just friends?"

Before Kari could explain, Hvitserk jumped in to answer.

"Ivar and I share her."

Immediately Kari choked on air due to his candid response. Her gaze darted to Erik in horror, seeing his jaw dropped and eyes wide as saucers. Beside her Hvitserk cackled like a hyena at both of their expressions.

"That's not…. ugh! No!" Kari tried to speak, once she could functionally breathe again, only to cover her face as her words tumbled out of her mouth inelegantly.

"Awww, come on, Kari. You know I'm teasing." The elder Lothbrok tugged her hands away from her face, which only caused her to bury her face in his shoulder. "We know Ivar doesn't share. But if you ever get tired of his cranky ass, I'll be more than willing to show you a good time."

"Oh my god." She mumbled to herself, completely mortified. The evening had been going so well, and now…. all of this. Whose grave had she accidently stepped on today?

Erik awkwardly cleared his throat as he rose to his feet. "Um, I'm going to go."

"I'm so sorry, Erik." She elbowed Hvitserk when he refused to release her hands, earning an 'oof' from him. Turning her body to give Erik her full attention, she continued, hoping this had not ruined their friendship or his night. "I know this is last minute but do you think you can give me a ride to work tomorrow? If you don't want to, that's fine, especially after all of this, I wouldn't blame you."

"No, no. I mean, sure. It's not a problem. Just, ah, text me when you're ready."

She smiled gratefully at him. "I will. Have a good night, Erik!"

"You too, Kari." He gave her his signature boyish grin. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked at Hvitserk. "Nice meeting you."

"Yeah, nice meeting you too." He said back, draping his arm once again behind Kari.

Erik gave Kari another brief smile before disappearing back inside his townhouse, the door sliding quietly shut behind him.

Hvitserk continued to stare where Erik disappeared for a long minute before muttering, "boy better watch himself."

"What are you talking about?" She sighed out, feeling the lurking sensation of a stress headache coming on.

"He wants to fuck you. Ivar won't like that."

"What is with…. No. I'm ignoring all of that." She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Ugh, my evening was going so well until an hour ago."

"What happened? That guy showed up to bother you? Want me to tell him to lay off?" His questions came out in rapid-fire, concern infused in his voice.

"No, Erik is fine. It's …. it's nothing like that."

"So, what happened?"

"Nothing important. Have you heard from Ivar?"

He raised a brow at her dismissal but changed the subject. "Yeah, looks like he got what he needed so he'll be back tomorrow morning."

"Oh good."

"Hmmm…. which means he'll want to take you out tomorrow."

"He bought me some dresses." She softly confessed, fiddling with her diamond stud earring.

"I'd recommend wearing one of those."

She swatted at him, only to mirror the easy grin on his face. After a moment, she asked, "I just…. is it weird for him to do that?"

"What?"

"Buy me stuff."

"Does it bother you?"

"I don't know."

"If you want my advice, I'd say to let him." He lifted a finger to silence her protest. Her mouth snapped shut at his pointed look. Once he was sure she would not interrupt him, he spoke. "Ivar has never been good with…. verbally expressing affection, something I am sure he learned from our father. So he buys gifts, something he can touch and control. If he's buying you gifts, not out of obligation but because he wants to spoil you, then you mean a lot to him."

She pondered his words and how she felt about them. Never did she want Ivar to feel taken advantage of by her, especially in regards to his money. She would rather tear her own heart out than make him feel used again. It grated slightly how freely he wasted money on her. The dresses were lovely, something she could only dream of having with her current salary. But she worked hard for her life, to be independent. Even whenever they went out to eat together, he never let her pay for her own meal. She had given up that fight already but this…. It felt different. Yet what Hvitserk said slunk back to the forefront of her mind. If this was his way of showing affection, of letting her know he cared about her, would it do more damage to refuse his gift?

"How did you become so insightful into Ivar?" She teased, deciding to think about this more later.

He laughed, flicking her ear with the hand he still had behind her. "Out of necessity. I don't think anyone can fully understand him, not even himself."

"He's complex." She agreed.

"That's a nice way of putting it." He tipped his head to the side to meet her gaze. "Now, tell me what happened earlier."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Ivar told me to check on you. If I left you trying to hide tears and he found out, he'd probably break my hands or legs, not sure how particular he would be."

Biting her bottom lip, she debated blowing him off again. It was not his problem, she could deal with her own issues. But there was something about Hvitserk that made her feel comfortable around him. Even though he was under no obligation, he seemed to actually care about her.

Finally, she gave in with a sigh, laying her head against his shoulder. "Alana said…. Um, this townhouse belongs to her uncle. Him and his family moved into a bigger home and instead of selling this place decided to rent it out for a little extra cash. The rent is minimal, since he isn't renting to really make a profit. It's honestly the only way I've been able to afford being here. Well, Alana told me earlier that he is having to increase our rent. She didn't really tell me why but now it's going to be an extra 300 a month…. and I don't have that. So unless I want to find somewhere new to live, it kind of looks like I need to get a second job."

He waited a moment before flatly stating, "have Ivar pay the extra. Fuck, he'd probably pay your whole rent if you asked him too."

"No! I don't want that!" She sat up so fast, it was a miracle she did not fall off the couch. Her eyes turned to the brother beside her, wide and pleading. "Please don't tell him, Hvitty! I don't want him thinking I'm using him for his money. I…. I need to do this on my own somehow. I'll figure it out, honestly. I just wasn't expecting this to happen, that's all."

"You really don't care about our money, do you?"

"No." It broke her heart a little at the shock in his questioning tone. Did any of them ever expect someone to care about them without the influence of their money?

He stared off into the distance before looking back at her with a solemn expression. "I'll make you a deal. I won't say anything to Ivar about this, but if you are struggling, even if it's just one month's payment, you come to me and I'll help until you get your head above water again, got it?"

"Why would you want to help me?" She quietly asked, meeting his gaze.

He smirked. "I like you. You're genuine. Plus, you're also great for Ivar. I'd like you to stick around and if this is one way to help with that, it's an easy solution." He narrowed his eyes at her as she started to protest again. "Don't fight me on this."

"You Lothbroks are unbelievable. Fine." She laid her head back on his shoulder. "Thank you, Hvitserk…. and thanks for coming to check on me."

"Anytime. You've got my number. Just cause you're Ivar's woman doesn't mean we can't be friends. But my offer still stands, if you get sick of him, I'll be the first to snatch you up."

She laughed, heart feeling lighter than it had all afternoon. "Stop. I'm not Ivar's woman."

"You keep telling yourself that."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the sky change colors.

"Mmmm…."

"What?" She looked up at him.

He peeked down at her with a shit-eating grin. "I still can't remember if I fucked your roommate or not."

"Gods, Hvitserk!"

*****

Before she fell asleep that night, she checked her phone one last time. A jolt of elation shot through her when she saw an unread text from Ivar. Her fingers fumbled with how quickly she tried to unlock her phone to read the text.

Ivar: good nite, kitten. C u 2morrow.

A silly smile on her face, she replied.

Kari: sweet dreams, Ivar.

After that, she plugged in her phone and curled up under her covers. Relief and excitement bled into her veins, allowing her to drift off to sleep with thoughts of the dark-haired Lothbrok coming home to her.

#vikings #MODERN VIKINGS #vikings ivar #vikings fanfiction #vikings fandom #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #modern ivar #ivar x oc #ivar x ofc #modern!ivar x oc #modern!ivar #ivar's heathen army #Hvitserk #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #hvitserk lothbrok #to call forth love #mzwrites

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mymoonagedaydream · 3 years

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Hey girl 💞it’s my birthday next week Wednesday and I have no friends 🙃so I’m hoping if you have any time/ and if you want to could you write a fluffy birthday for Reader and Bucky where he is being all nice and shit. I recognise how tragic this sounds lol but it is what it is 😂 hope you have a good week and keep up the amazing stories 💞

103 Candles

Summary: You wouldn’t have minded your birthday quietly slipping by without anyone noticing, but apparently that wasn’t allowed on Bucky’s watch.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Language, much floof as requested

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday for Wednesday anon! I know things seem to be relentlessly shitty at the moment but I really hope you have a lovely day despite all that. And don’t be saying you got no friends cause I’ve just written a whole bloody story for you, cheeky thing. (I moved this one up the queue a little but hey, can’t miss a birthday.)

---

‘Mail call.’

Bucky was already standing inside your room, knocking on the door after he’d opened it. Apparently privacy wasn’t a word in his vocabulary, he’d caught you half-dressed more times than you could count but obviously still hadn’t learned his lesson.

He grinned and held a handful of envelopes out to you.

‘Thanks Buck. Glad to see you’re finally making yourself useful.’

‘Don’t get used to it, cupcake.’

He flopped down onto your bed, lying back with his hands folded under his head. Your gaze unconsciously wandered down to where his t-shirt was riding up slightly, your face starting to heat up before you caught what you were doing and quickly looked away.

In the couple of months you’d been at the compound, no-one had made you feel more welcome than Bucky. He was the first to offer help whenever you needed it and he always made an effort to speak to you when your paths crossed.

Plus neither of you really had friends outside of work, so you spent most evenings alone with him in the living room, doing your very best to educate him on some of the best films of the last fifty years while he fought tooth and nail to stay stuck in his outdated ways.

He still thought Charlie Chaplin was the height of cinema, bless him.

You’d really become attached, but you knew pursuing anything romantic meant risking the loss of your best friend, so you just buried that feeling alongside your weird fascination with bigfoot and your inexplicable attraction to Donny Osmond.

He propped himself up on his elbows. ‘Anything exciting?’

You lazily flicked through the letters, stopping when you came across a bright red envelope, sporting what you instantly recognised to be your sister’s handwriting.

Dropping the rest of the pile, you held it up to Buck. ‘Looks like a birthday card.’

‘Your birthday’s coming up?’

‘Yeah, Wednesday.’

‘For real?’ He excitedly jumped back onto his feet. ‘What are we doing for it? Party?’

‘God no, I can’t think of anything worse.’

His arms folded across his chest as he gave a loud huff, narrowing his eyes at you in suspicion. ‘Is this one of those lady things where you say you don’t want something but actually do?’

‘Definitely not. Could we just keep this between us? Please?’

The smirk that spread across his face sent a bolt of dread coursing through your veins. It was obvious that he was plotting something, but before you could probe any deeper he had his hands up in surrender and was backing out of the room.

‘Whatever you say, weirdo.’

---

Wednesday came around and, as you’d hoped, it felt like just another normal day. You woke up late, shuffled to the kitchen to assemble something resembling a breakfast and encountered no unwelcome surprises on your way.

Your optimism about getting through this day without drawing the attention of your colleagues was steadily growing but, just as you’d finished cooking and were about to escape back to your bedroom, Bucky strolled in looking very fucking pleased with himself.

He was wearing his winter coat, immediately rousing your suspicion because the crazy powerful compound heating made the place like a sauna, and holding something behind his back.

‘Hey! Happy b-’

You shoved your hand over his mouth. ‘I thought we had an agreement.’

He made a face and mumbled something into your palm, making you roll your eyes and reluctantly let go of his face.

‘Yeah, we agreed to keep it between us. I haven’t told anyone else.’ With a proud grin, he pulled a terribly wrapped gift from behind his back. ‘But you never said I couldn’t celebrate.’

You tried your best to look a little peeved, but you really struggled to smother your growing smile.

You just hoped that this was all he had planned.

Taking the present from him, you tried to tear it open, quickly realising that he’d used an ungodly amount of tape to hold the shambles together. You ended up having to ferret out the kitchen scissors just to get into the bloody thing.

Finally cracking it open, you grabbed your gift and held it up, becoming instantly confused.

‘You got me a Christmas sweater?’

‘Yeah. When you have a birthday in December, you gotta accept that you’ll get festive gifts.’ He excitedly reached for the zipper on his coat. ‘You haven’t even seen the best part.’

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Under his coat, he was wearing a matching sweater.

The only issue was that they obviously didn’t make them in his size, cause it was the tightest piece of clothing you’d ever seen anyone wear, including Nat. He looked like a size two sausage stuffed into a size one casing.

You started laughing so hard you could barely stay standing, his confused frown just sending you further into your spiral.

‘What? What’s so funny?’

You just about managed to form words through your breathless howling. ‘You look like a sex offender.’

‘Is that right?’ He gave you a roguish smirk and pulled your sweater out of your hands. ‘Well let’s see how you look in yours.’

‘I think I should save it for Christmas.’

‘I think you should be more polite about the gift I spent ages picking out for you.’

You quickly spun round, taking off towards the door. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, but you hoped you could at least get back to your bedroom before he caught up, locking him out along with the sweater.

It didn’t work.

You didn’t even make it out of the room before he’d grabbed you and pulled the sweater down over your shoulders, trapping your arms by your sides.

With a reluctant sigh, you adjusted so you were wearing it properly, wincing at the itchy material rubbing against your neck. This thing would definitely give you a rash if you wore it for too long.

‘Ah, you were right.’ Bucky looked you up and down with a smirk before strolling out of the room. ‘They do look terrible.’

You quickly pulled it off before shouting after him. ‘At least mine fits.’

---

The evening came around and you sequestered yourself to your bedroom, hoping to ride out the rest of the day in peace. There’d been no big surprise party and no more weird gifts, so you were feeling pretty good about your chances, when a series of loud thuds sounded against your door.

You reluctantly shuffled over and pulled it open, a little shocked to see Bucky standing there holding two huge pizza boxes. This was the first time he’d ever knocked before entering.

Eh, he probably just couldn’t reach the doorknob with his hands full.

‘What is this?’

‘Birthday dinner.’ He strolled past you with a grin, jumping onto your bed and flinging open the top box. ‘I didn’t get anything for my birthday back in March either, so we can call this a joint party.’

Alright, if the only “party” you had to endure this year was pizza in bed with Bucky, you’d figured you’d gotten off pretty lightly. You might even enjoy it, just as long as he had nothing else hidden behind his back.

Crawling on next to him, you grabbed a slice and started stuffing your face, deciding for some reason to attempt conversation in between mouthfuls.

‘How old are you, anyway?’

‘If you count my time in deepfreeze I’m 103.’

You audibly gasped and inhaled a bit of cheese, immediately choking and coughing your guts up like a fucking idiot. Bucky just chuckled and whacked you hard on the back.

It didn’t help at all, but you appreciated the gesture.

‘I can see why we skipped it,’ you wheezed, ‘you’d need a fucking big cake for 103 candles.’

‘And an even bigger one for 104. I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with.’

The two of you finished off the pizzas, Bucky wouldn’t admit it but he ate at least one and a half of them, and you threw the empty boxes onto the floor. Slumping back onto your pillows, you quickly had to dive sideways to dodge Bucky’s huge metal shoulder as he flopped next to you, obviously underestimating his own width.

You flicked on the TV. ‘What d’you want to watch?’

‘I’ll let you pick, since it’s your birthday.’

‘For real?’ This was unprecedented, the two of you had never managed to watch a movie without at least thirty minutes of arguing beforehand. ‘Can everyday be my birthday?’

‘Maybe. If you play your cards right.’

You gave him a wide smile and let your head fall onto his shoulder, adjusting yourself a little when his arm came up to circle your shoulders. This had become your usual lazy evening position, but it felt a little different in bed than it did on the couch in the communal living area. More intimate.

It felt a lot different when his arm fell to your waist and pulled you in closer to him, that’d never happened before.

But you definitely weren’t complaining.

You shifted onto your side slightly, slotting your head into the curve of his neck, smiling to yourself at how neatly it fit there. Your knee automatically folded up to rest on his thigh, a bolt of electricity shooting up your spine when Bucky’s free hand moved to start caressing it lightly.

He must’ve felt you twitching, because he let out a gruff chuckle and pressed his lips into your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds before shifting to rub cheek across your temple.

It was rough and stubbly, scratching against your skin like the sweater, but this sensation was different. It felt satisfying and strangely familiar, immediately sending you in to a deep, warm relaxation.

Eventually managing to pluck up some courage, you tilted your head back slightly so you were face-to-face with him.

His gaze was already zeroed in on you.

As soon as your eyes met, he lifted his hand from your knee to cup your face, brushing his thumb gently across your lips.

‘Good birthday?’

‘Yeah. Better than expected.’

He gave a slight smile and leaned towards you, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips pressed softly against yours. Your whole body tensed slightly, you pulled in a sharp, stuttering breath through your nose as your stomach tied itself in a knot.

It took a few seconds, but you eventually managed to compose yourself, relaxing and letting him lead the kiss while you just felt yourself begin to melt under his touch.

Your arms slid around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, the two of you steadily pulling each other closer until you were both on lying your sides with your bodies pressed together, limbs tangled up like electrical cables.

He pulled away slightly, whispering while his forehead was still pressed firmly against yours. ‘I was lying earlier, you looked great in that sweater.’

‘I’m still not gonna wear it.’

‘Fair enough.’

---

#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fluff #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff

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buckys-black-dress · 3 years

Text

a fine line, part two

a/n: here she is, our promised part two of afl!!! honestly i love writing this series and it has almost all my fav things in one fic, so yup. anyways, again, thank you for reading/sharing/liking my work !! luv u all, x -ali

wc: 5.8k !!!

The tension in the room was palpable.

And although no one knew you two were working together by verbal confirmation, it was clear from the way you were both reacting.

Bucky was rarely this quiet, so it was obvious what was going on.

Also the fact that you seemed frozen in place.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” Wanda’s soft voice filtered in next to you.

You nodded, trying to break away from James’ gaze.

“Mhm, who’re you working with?” You ask, moving away from the topic at hand.

“Oh, you know Professor Vision? He teaches Comp Sci.” Wanda is now visibly blushing, making you curious.

“Ooh, does Wanda have a crush?” Natasha chimes in as she sidles up next to you two. “I got Banner. How about you, Y/N?”

“I uhh, I got... Barnes.” You mumble under your breath.

“Who? I didn’t catch what you said there.” Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I... I got Dr. Barnes.” You said, not even daring to look up at your friends.

“...Oh. Well, that should be... interesting...” Wanda comments.

“...Yeah. It’ll probably be fine!” Natasha tries to comfort you, but there’s a stirring feeling in your stomach that almost makes you feel sick.

“He said there was no way to change it... right?” You ask feebly, trying to hold out hope.

“No... and I wouldn’t want to go head to head with Fury.” Wanda frowns.

“Great.” You conclude, taking a deep breath. “You know what, I can do this. It’s fine, I’ll be fine.” You tell the girls, gathering your things and filing out of the office as people began to leave.

Wanda and Natasha were left watching your retreating form, staring at each other.

“I’ll be surprised if they make it to the end of next week.” Natasha says, earning a shove in her arm from Wanda.

Bucky watched you leave the office, and the gears were most definitely turning in his head.

You spent the rest of the week keeping mostly to yourself, trying to mentally prepare for what you’d have to face next week.

In the email sent out by Fury, he explained that you and your partner should have a lesson outlined prior to Monday so you could get right into teaching. He also explained that you would have to share all of your classes, and somehow correlate the two subjects that each professor taught.

English and History, seems easy, right?

Wrong.

Every idea you’ve emailed James has been shot down, and your patience was wearing thin. You didn’t like being unprepared, and the week would be coming to a close soon.

So naturally, you did what anyone else would do, and knocked on James’ office door until he answered.

“I’m comin’ jeez, would ya hold on?” You hear his voice, muffled by the door, until he swings it open, coming face to face with you. “What do you need, Y/L/N?”

“Oh, lovely to see you too, Dr. Barnes. I just wanted to know if you were actually interested in making our lesson plan. If we’re going to be spending the next few weeks together, we might as well have a plan. And I thought your input might be better, since you’re clearly not a fan of what I’ve shown you so far.” You rambled, moving to stand in the middle of his office, laptop in hand.

“You know, maybe if you sent anything good, I would’ve worked with ya on it. But I just don’t think your style of teaching fits me. It’s too... too intimate. You’re too far up your students’ asses. You get too close, too personal with them.” James explains to you.

You can only scoff at this.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, James, but my students and I have great relationships. If my students don’t like me, or what I teach, they’ll be more inclined to hand in subpar work. But if I make my expectations clear from the start, they’ll know what they have to do to earn an A in my class. That’s why my first two semesters here have been averaging with A’s all across the board.” You explain as simply as you can, because you felt like James was ridiculing you and the way you teach. You worked hard to get where you are today, and you know that’s why your students love coming to class.

Bucky stared at you for a few seconds, trying to process the information you dropped on him.

“So... your students... like you?” He asks, tentatively, almost.

“...Yes? I know you don’t like me, so it might hard to believe that others do, but I don’t think I’m that unappealing.” You scoff, looking at the floor to avoid Bucky’s eyes. “Anyways, do you have any ideas?”

Bucky’s chest tightened with guilt. After the incident at the bar, he was trying to not be as rude to you. He was trying to be more humane, in Steve’s words.

“I... Maybe we can take a look at some of the stuff you sent before. Maybe if you explain it to me face-to-face I’ll understand it better.” Bucky says, and you nod. “Take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while.”

As a few hours passed, you and James actually started a pretty solid outline for lessons. You started working on your first lesson, which would be the origins of literature. You could both talk about it, and you could both bring different aspects to the table.

“On average, how many kids do you have in your classes, Y/N?” James asks you, and your head snaps up at the mention of your first name. You had a moment where you imagine him calling you that way more often, making your throat run dry.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat, “my biggest class is about thirty students, maximum.” You tell him.

“Really? My smallest is forty...” He tells you, scratching his chin. “Also very male dominated, I’ve noticed.”

You freeze, trying to process this. It’s only ten more kids... you’ll be fine, right?

“You alright, there, Y/L/N?” James chuckles, to which you let out a weak one. You weren’t used to large crowds, they made you anxious, nervous, like you were losing your footing.

“I-I’m fine. Yeah, all good, let’s get back to work.” You tell him, focusing back on your lesson plan.

“It’s uh, getting a bit late. Thinking we should head home soon.” James looks at you a bit longer, trying to gauge your mood.

“Uh- oh, what time is it?” You ask, squinting and cursing yourself for leaving your glasses in your office.

“It’s almost 7:30...” He tells you.

“Oh, I have to go! Lucy, she’s been all alone, I have to feed her!” In a panic, you begin gathering your belongings.

“Lu- Who’s Lucy?” James asks in clear confusion at your sudden panic.

“My cat! Oh, poor baby, she’s probably wondering where I’ve been...” You trail off, making sure you’ve gathered everything you need.

“W-wait, can I get your number?” James asks, and you both freeze.

“M-my number?” You ask, not bothering to hide your shock.

“Well, we’re gonna need to discuss the lesson plan somehow...” He tells you.

“Oh... well, here...” You pull off a post-it note from the pad on his desk and quickly scribble down your number, handing it to him. “I’m not usually on my phone too much, so if I don’t answer within a few hours, try shooting me an email.” You explain, making your way out the door.

“Have a good night, James.” He hears you say quietly before you turn away from the doorframe, and he hears the resonating shutting of your office door not even five minutes later.

Bucky sits in his chair, not having moved an inch from when you left. He stares at the blue post-it with your number scribbled on it.

He picked it up, inspecting it further.

Your handwriting was neat, but flourishing and borderline cursive because of how quickly you wrote.

Bucky pulls out his phone and inputs the number, saving your contact.

Y/N Y/L/N

He then types out a message:

Just wanted to text you so I wouldn’t lose your number. Hope Lucy is okay.

And he hits send, deciding to pack up his things, trying to understand why he chose to include your cat in his message.

And on your end when you check your phone after parking in your apartment building’s parking, you see a message from an unknown number. You choose to not answer until you’ve made it into your apartment and feed Lucy.

You open your messages, staring at it. Something in your chest fluttered, but you pass it off as your hunger, waiting for your dinner to warm up in the oven.

Hi James. Lucy is fine, thanks for worrying. Have a good night.

You send it off, saving his contact but choosing to not look at your phone until after you’ve finished everything that you needed to do.

After finishing some grading, doing the dishes, and adding to the lesson plan, you decide to settle into bed with a book. You check your phone while brushing your teeth.

James Barnes: Good to hear. Do you think we could work on the lesson plan over lunch tomorrow? Just so we can get ahead of the game.

Y/N Y/L/N: Sounds good. Are we still going to also meet up after classes?

It takes a few minutes before your phone dings again.

James Barnes: Yep. Do you want to just come by my place after? Kind of getting stir-crazy in my office. We could also order food.

You stare at your phone. Are you going crazy? Why is he being so... kind?

Before you could even respond, another ping pulls you back out of your thoughts.

James Barnes: You could also bring Lucy with you, if you don’t want to leave her alone at home for too long.

Okay, now you were sure you were going insane. He was being way too nice. Where was this attitude a year ago, when you’d first met him?

But then again, it wouldn’t hurt, right? You were trying to get out of your comfort zone...

Y/N Y/L/N: Sure, that’s good. Are you sure it would be okay if I brought Lucy? I wouldn’t want to impose on your personal space.

His reply was almost instant.

James Barnes: No, I don’t mind at all. Alpine would love the company.

Before you could even wonder who Alpine was, you remember your previous conversation with Steve once.

‘Bucky also has a cat...’

Y/N Y/L/N: Okay, then I’ll be there. You also have a cat?

James Barnes: Oh, yeah. He’s the sweetest. *1 Attachment.*

Opening the image, you see a fluffy, stark white cat. He had big eyes that anyone would swoon over. You look at the foot of your bed where Lucy is curled up into a ball, fast asleep. You carefully snap a picture, smiling at her.

Y/N Y/L/N: I’ll admit, he’s cute. But can he compete with her? *1 Attachment*

You smile, seeing the typing bubble, waiting for him to respond.

James Barnes: Doll, no one can compete with Al. But I can’t deny, Lucy’s a gem.

Reading over the message at least seven times, your eyes keep lingering over the first word. Doll. It was in a loop in your head, the only thought you were having was that one word.

Why did he call me that? Is he flirting with me? No... he doesn’t even like me! But then why would he be talking to me right now? And why would he send me a picture of his cat...

And now your hands were working faster than your brain, typing out a quick response with your stomach doing backflips.

Y/N Y/L/N: Alright, whatever you say, Bucky. I’m heading to bed, good night.

And you don’t wait for a response before shutting off your phone and plugging it in, putting it on do not disturb and abandoning it on your nightstand, flipping open your book. You were trying to clear your thoughts but miserably failing.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky responded with a wide smile at the sight of you using his nickname.

James Barnes: Sweet dreams, Y/N.

That night, Bucky fell asleep with Alpine on the pillow next to him, but a wide smile on his face and his stomach full of butterflies.

Little did he know, so were you.

The next day, you woke up feeling like a brand new woman. You got a decent amount of sleep. You got out of bed and made coffee before you left the house. You arrived to school way earlier than usual.

To be honest, you didn’t know what was going on.

James was being nice. To you. Why the sudden change of heart? Or maybe he was going back to acting like an asshole when he sees you in person. You didn’t really know what to expect.

Honestly, what you expected the least was for a knock to be heard on your door, 15 minutes before your first class of the day.

“Come in!” You say, expecting a student or maybe Natasha or Wanda.

But the door swings open, and there’s James. He’s standing there with two paper bags, undoubtedly from the bakery down the street.

“Hi.” He says. Not offering anything. No explanation, no emotion. No indication of our conversation last night.

“Hi. Did you need something?” You ask, and for once, it wasn’t in a dismissive or cold tone.

“Uh, no. Just wondering if you’ve eaten anything yet today?” James asks, holding up the bags in his hand.

“Uhm... no...” You tell him, not understanding why he was asking.

“Oh, well I have an extra croissant, if you’d like.” He holds up the bags once again.

“Sure, you can sit in here to eat if you’d like...” You offer, not sure of the water you were treading in.

“Oh, thanks.” He sits down and you both pull out the pastries and start eating. “So, how’s Lucy today?” James asks, a slight smirk on his face. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you or not.

“Uh, she-she’s good. Clingy as usual. How’s Alpine?” You return the question.

“Same for him, also clings to me like a koala when I leave, I always feel bad, but I don’t really have a choice.” You both giggle at the remark, nodding in agreement.

“I understand. Lucy’s still a kitten too, so she’s been getting attached a lot. But I think I need her just as bad as she needs me.” You tell him, and you don’t know why.

“Oh... no boyfriend?” James asks, and now you really can’t tell if he’s pulling your leg.

“Oh-” You giggle, covering your mouth. “That’s funny. No, no boyfriend.” You continue to laugh until you fall back into silence, and James is just watching you.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, genuinely perplexed at your reaction.

“James, I don’t think either of us are idiots. I don’t think I come off as girlfriend material to most guys.” You laugh again.

It became quiet, and you look back to your computer, ready to end this awkward conversation. You knew you had your insecurities, but it had always been hard for you to put yourself out there. Especially for guys. Your anxiety and introverted nature really put a pause on your already non-existent dating life.

Besides, you’ve always been alone. And you didn’t think that would be changing any time soon.

“Okay, well I’m gonna head out. I have a class to prepare for. See you tonight?” James asks, getting up from his seat across from you.

“Y-Yeah, I’ll see you then. Could you text me your address and what time I should be there?” You ask, also gathering your lecture notes and laptop.

“Sure thing, Y/N. Bye.” He waves, leaving. As soon as he steps out, you hear the clicking of heels against the laminate flooring.

“Why was Bucky in here?” Natasha’s gravelly voice asks, looking confused as ever.

“He just brought me a croissant, we were talking about our lesson plan for next week.” You explain to her. “Walk with me to my lecture?” You ask, pointing out the door.

“Sure,” she agrees, waiting for you to lock the door, “so, have things been... civil between you two?” Natasha asks tentatively.

“Actually, yes. He’s not all that bad. I’m going to his place after classes to work on the lesson plan, he asked me yesterday to even bring Lucy over so she could meet Alpine.” You tell her.

“Oh- wow, really? He’s being so... nice to you...” She responds.

“I-I know... I don’t understand why... He made it clear he doesn’t really enjoy my company.” You respond.

“Yeah... Well, this is new. I hope he keeps up with it.” She pats you on the shoulder as you reach the lecture hall.

“Yeah, me too.” You say, turning to her before going in.

“Hey, can I stop by your office for something at lunch?”

“Sure, see you then!” You tell her, setting up for your class.

Lunch time comes around, and Natasha was already waiting for you when you finished your class by lunchtime. You remembered James also asking to come by to eat with you and work, so you tried to make it quick with Natasha.

“So, you and Bruce already finished your lesson plans?” You ask, looking for a booklet she needed.

“Yeah, he’s fun to work with. Kinda a nerd, but he knows his shit.” She says, smiling and leaning against your desk. “Any reason you’re in a rush?” She asks, catching you off guard.

“Oh, uh, James is coming to eat here so we can get ahead on the lesson.” You tell her, looking back through your drawer.

“That’s... interesting.” Natasha’s brows were drawn together. “You two seem to have a lot of time allotted together.”

“Well, we have only a little of our lessons done, and we really don’t want to show up unprepared. You know how much I hate that.” You tell her, finally finding what she needed.

Outside your office, James was just about to walk in when he heard your voices.

“Yeah... Just wondering, did he ever... apologize for what he said that one night?” Nat asks.

“Uhm, n-no. He’s been really kind to be as of late, so I’m assuming we’re turning a new leaf... But he makes me... nervous sometimes. Just a few days ago, he wouldn’t even look at my lesson plan ideas. He looked like he would rather violently bash his skull in than work with me. I’m just- I’m confused. What made him change his mind?” You think out loud, really wondering if James’ behavior was genuine.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been through a lot, but I think you should give him a chance. Don’t be so weary. If he’s being nice, don’t question it. I don’t know why he was like that with you from the beginning, but you shouldn’t have to beat yourself up over the fact that he’s actually treating you with respect.” Natasha puts her hand over yours, meeting your gaze.

“Y-Yeah. I know. I know I deserve respect, but it’s been hard lately. Ever since my family stopped talking to me, I feel like a failure. They don’t understand that I deserve that respect either. They think teaching is a shit job, they think I won’t get anywhere in life with it. I’m just sick and tired of them acting like I didn’t work hard to get where I am today.”

I talked to my brother the other day, and he said the same thing they’ve been saying since I started my PhD. ‘You’re not gonna get anywhere with this, you should get a boyfriend, we want grandkids.’ Like, okay! I get it! But where the hell am I supposed to find a guy when the cute one doesn’t even like me!? And my last boyfriend was in my undergrad. I feel a like teenager. I have literally no romantic life.” You huff out, absolutely tired of this.

“I- Y/N, I’m so sorry. You deserve a family that’s supportive of you and your passions. I hope Wanda and Carol and I have maybe helped you, kind of like a work family, y’know?” She holds your hand tighter. “We’ll always be here for you.”

You smile, walking around your desk to hug her.

“Thank you, Nat. I appreciate you all so much. I don’t think you’ll ever really know.” You hug her tightly before letting go. “James should be here any minute now, but we’ll talk more after class?”

“You betcha, but don’t think I forgot what you said... Maybe he does like you.” She says, and your face turns beet red.

“Natasha, no. I think he’s made it very clear he’s not into me. Like, at all. I’m surprised we’re even working together. I didn’t think he would cooperate.” You laugh. “Okay, seriously, you gotta go. I don’t want him to walk in on us talking about him.”

“Okay, okay, talk later. Bye, Y/N.” She says, making her way out, and Bucky pushes himself against the wall, hoping she wouldn’t see him.

“Don’t forget what we talked about, yeah?” She says to him, not even looking back. Natasha only stops when she doesn’t hear his response, turning around. “Listen to me, Bucky. We may be friends, but so are Y/N and I. I don’t know if it was me or Steve who finally knocked some sense into the dumb head of yours, but if she comes to me again, crying, telling me she can’t take it from you anymore, I promise; you’ll be off this faculty faster than you can say ‘tenure.’ Now, am I understood, Barnes?” Natasha concludes, completely in Bucky’s personal space.

“I- yes. I understand.” He gulps, looking down at his hands. “I-I’ve been trying. To be nice to her. I know what I did before was wrong, but I’m trying, okay? Steve and I had a... a long talk.”

“Yeah, whatever. This better not just be a one-time-thing. From here on out, I want no complaints from her. She’s been through enough shit, and she doesn’t need any more from you. I have somewhere to be, and so do you.” Natasha says, parting ways and letting Bucky release a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

He composes himself one last time, and walks into your office.

“Hi, James.” You give him a soft smile, “Take a seat, we’ve got work to do.”

When your last lecture finished, you made your way home to get what you needed to head to James’ apartment. He’d texted you the address and told you you could come by any time after 6:30.

You were thinking back on your lunch break with him. He was quiet, almost nervous to be sitting in front of you, and you couldn’t understand for the life of you why.

It was uncharacteristic of him to be so demure, and you wonder why he was suddenly so shy. Before, he wouldn’t have hesitated to make a remark, or take a jab at you. But now, he was quiet as a mouse.

It was concerning, to say the least.

So, on your way to his apartment, which was a solid 15 minutes drive, you call Natasha for advice.

“Hey. Can I talk to you about something?” You ask while you drive.

“Yeah, everything alright?” Natasha’s voice filters through your car’s speakers.

“Oh, I’m fine, but did something happen with James? He was acting so... odd today... He was so quiet, so nice. His behavior has been so different lately.” Your brows were furrowed, genuinely trying to crack this puzzle.

“Uh... well, isn’t it a good thing?” She asks.

“I mean, yes, but did someone say something to him?” You ask, puzzled.

“Uh, no...” lie, “maybe he’s just turning over a new leaf, Y/N. I think you should stop worrying yourself over it so much. And if you really want answers, just confront him about it.” Natasha concludes.

“...Okay. You’re right. I think I’m just reading too much into this. I need to go, I’m almost there. Thanks, Nat.” You tell her.

“Bye, Y/N. Good luck.” And the line goes dead.

“Looks like it’s just me and you now, Luce.” You look over at her carrier in the seat next to yours, where she’s curled up into a ball inside.

Once you park and text James to let him know you’re on your way up, you sling your laptop bag over your shoulder and grab Lucy’s carrier.

As you make your way inside, you stop at the concierge desk, where an older man with grey hair and glasses greets you. His name tag reads Stan.

“Hi, I’m here to see James Barnes?” You tell him, looking at the grandiosity of the lobby.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Y/L/N?” He asks, and you nod. “He said he was expecting you. Not that I don’t trust you, but I just need a form of ID before I can let you up.” You nod again, handing over you driver’s license.

He hands it back, giving an approving nod.

“Elevators are to the right, he’s in 12B.” Stan tells him, and you give him appreciative ‘thank you’ before you scurry to the elevator.

When you knock on his door, it takes a second for him to open it, a faint ‘Al, one second!’ resonating through the door, making you snort out a laugh.

“Hey, sorry about that. Come in,” Bucky finally appears, swinging his door wide open.

You walk in, setting down Lucy and taking your shoes off.

“So, is Alpine friendly with other cats?” You ask, weary of unzipping the carrier.

“Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?” He asks, but stops when he sees your expression fall.

“S-Sorry, I wasn’t trying to imply anything, It’s just- Lucy’s a bit shy, but she typically likes other cats.” You say, looking down at her.

“I-I’m sorry- that was rude. I wasn’t trying to sound like an ass, I swear. Alpine’s friendly with other cats, but he needs a little time to warm up to other people. Don’t take it personally if he isn’t too fond of you at first.” He laughs, directing you to his couch where Alpine was perched.

“Oh, hi baby!” You coo, holding out your hand to Alpine. He tentatively inspects you with his eyes, first, and then sniffs you. He then, his head buts against your hand, asking for affection.

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up, shocked at how friendly Alpine was being. He barely even looked at Steve and Sam when they come by. But here he was, purring and shoving himself against you.

“Well, I think Lucy won’t have a problem with him at all.” You smile, bringing the carrier over to the end of the couch and unzipping it, letting Lucy move at her own pace.

At first, she just wearily looks at Alpine and the unfamiliar setting. She then looks at you, where you encouragingly coo at her, making sure she was comfortable.

Bucky gazes at the whole scene with a soft look, watching as Lucy slowly saunters out of the carrier, sniffing Alpine and the couch. Soon enough, Alpine sniffs back, and they start playing with each other, forgetting their owners completely.

You both laugh at how well they were getting along, and the contrast between the black and white furs making it that much better.

“Well, should we get started?” You ask, finally turning to Bucky with a big smile.

In that moment, his throat goes dry, and all he can think is... She has a beautiful smile.

“James? Everything alright?” You ask, breaking him out of his trance.

“I- Yes! Sorry, got distracted for a minute... Would you prefer Italian or Chinese for dinner?” He asks, shaking his head and trying to change the subject.

“Uhm, I don’t mind, whatever you’d like.” You smile, grabbing your laptop.

“So... Italian, then?” He asks with a light laugh.

“Sure.” You answer. “Where can we sit to work?”

“Oh, the table’s fine, we can eat while we work, too. Let me go order really quick.” He excuses himself after pointing to his dining table, and heading into the kitchen.

When Bucky reaches the kitchen, he takes a second to compose himself. He pinches in between his brows, his eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t know why he was acting like a teenager, he felt himself get flustered around you.

After he pulls himself together, he orders the food and comes back outside, finding you focused on something extremely intently on your screen.

“James, what do you think for something like this for a more interactive activity?” You ask, turning your computer to him, waiting for him to read the plan, biting your lip nervously.

“This- this is awesome, doll. This looks really good, the students would love this.” He tells you, reading over it one more time.

“O-Oh, thanks.” You thank him shyly, stomach fluttering while looking down at your lap again.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, breaking the silence.

“Oh, the food-” James moves to grab his wallet, but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“James, you’ve already been so hospitable, let me get it-” You say, but he shakes off your hand and shakes his head.

“No, I can’t let you do that, I insist,” he responds, beating you to the door and handing the delivery man his card, letting him ring it up quickly.

You huff, sitting back down in your spot with a pout.

“James, you suck,” you huff, visibly annoyed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I did. Now, let’s eat. You good with red wine?” He asks, pulling out two wine glasses.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You say, unpacking the food as he pours some wine.

As he sets down some plates, he sees your expression still pouty, like a child.

“Y/N, stop pouting.” You look so cute. “You can get it next time.” I wish I could kiss you.

“Oh, there’s gonna be a next time?” You ask, your face turning red yet again.

“I mean, we’re going to have to make more lesson plans, depending on how long Fury keeps this up.” He laughs, but you freeze at his words.

It’s true, you think to yourself, we’re probably going back to how it was before when this is all over. That’s probably why he’s being nice to me.

“Hey, you alright? Did I say something?” James asks, a concerned look on his face.

“N-No, you’re good. Sorry. Ready to eat?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Yeah... You sure everything’s okay?” He asks again, trying to make sure.

“James, everything is okay, please. Let’s just eat.” You smile, placing a hand over his in reassurement.

Dinner was delicious, and now you and James were sipping on wine while working, occasionally checking on Lucy and Alpine.

“Hey, do you think a group project could work? I usually give some to my students, I have a template I follow, but you could change it to your liking-” James tells you, but you cut him off with your thoughts.

“James, can I ask you a question?” You ask, hovering a hand over his.

“S-Sure. What’s up?” He sounds weary.

“You know, before we started this project, you like... loathed me.” You say. “Why?” Your voice breaks at that last word, barely getting it out of your throat.

“I... I just-” He takes a deep breath and looks down, grabbing your hand, “I thought you were... snobby, stuck up. I thought you came to this school thinking you were better than everyone else, that you were here to one-up us all.”

And before you could cut him to deny it with your shaking head, he continues.

“And I know now that I was wrong. I-I’m so sorry for the way I spoke to you, especially at the bar. After you left and Steve took me home, he basically yelled at me and told me how what I thought of you was completely off. I shouldn’t have assumed all those things about you, and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me, one day.” He concludes, holding onto your hand so tightly to convey just how sorry he was.

“I- Oh, James. Y-You know, I never meant to come off that way. I just- I’ve always had trouble making friends and talking to people, and things have been hard recently. I never meant to make you o-or anyone else, for that matter, to feel that way. I’m so sorry.” You say, tears prickling behind your eyes.

“Y/N, doll.” James moves out of his seat, wrapping you in his arms. “I can’t even tell you how much I wish I was more open-minded, more patient. Ever since Steve and Nat have talked to me, I’ve been just-”

“Nat? What has Natasha told you?” You stop him, pulling away.

“She- she just told me to stop. She told me you’ve been going through a lot, and that I wasn’t making it any better for you so-”

“Did she say what? Why would she tell you about my personal life-” You begin to ramble and waving your hands around.

“Doll, no she didn’t-”

“She had no right to say-”

But before you could continue, Bucky cuts you off.

With his lips.

Against yours.

Bucky was kissing you.

Oh my god, he’s kissing me!

You pull away looking at him in utter shock.

“Wh- What did you do that for?”

“I just- You were rambling, but I didn’t know how else to stop you.” James says, a blush creeping up his neck.

“So you kissed me?” You ask incredulously.

“Uh- yes?” He says, more like asks.

“I uh... I have to go.” You say, looking anywhere but his eyes as you gather your items, hunting down Lucy and putting her in her carrier; much to her protest and distaste.

“Y-Y/N, please, don’t go. Let’s just talk!” James pleads, but you’re not listening.

“N-No, I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you in class next week. Bye, James.” You huff out, running to the nearest stairwell.

A part of you wanted him to run after you, but you needed time to process... whatever that was.

Did he kiss you because he liked you? Or because he wanted to shut you up?

You cut the drive home into half, the first thing you do after getting through your door is calling Natasha.

“Nat, I fucked up...” Your voice was weak through the phone.

And back in Bucky’s apartment, he dialed Steve’s number.

“Steve, I fucked up... real bad.” He meekly provides, his head in his hands.

a/n: oh boy. what’s gonna happen ??? hmmm... let me know down below! hope you guys enjoyed ;)

also, did y’all peep my stan lee cameo? :)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #prof!bucky #professor!bucky #prof!bucky x prof!reader #college professor au #enemies to lovers #bucky and alpine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Text

Me and my thots

Read on ao3

Billy didn’t black out when the first limb clamped onto his side.

He figured he would.

Figured the searing pain would cause his brain to short.

But it didn’t.

He didn’t even drop when the next one hit, chomping into his other side.

He figures the adrenaline was keeping him going.

And probably the other-worldly strength from whatever bits of the creature was left in him.

All he knows is that the final one pierced his chest.

And he didn’t lose consciousness.

Not as he fell.

Not as Max hovered over him.

Not as he heard shouts, and felt hands pressing into his wounds.

He woke with a start.

He shook the dream out of his head, rolling to press both fists into his eyes.

He slid out from under the thick duvet, pulling it up and over the sleeping form of the person next to him.

Like he did every morning.

He scratched his chest, making his way over to their sunny little kitchen, getting the coffee going.

It’s been a while since he’s dreamed about the Mind Flayer.

In his thirty years since that night at the mall, he’s gotten enough therapy to break most of it down, to accept what happened to him, what he was forced without question to do.

He startled as arms slipped around his waist.

“You okay?”

Steve’s voice was sleep groggy, his chin hooked over Billy’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Pretty Boy. I’m alright.”

Steve placed his hand over the faded scar on Billy’s chest, kissing his shoulder blade once.

Billy turned to look at him, taking in the sparse grey hairs Steve liked to complain about, the soft lines near his eyes.

Billy sucked in a gasp of air when he woke, spluttering as his lungs burned.

He was in the hospital, his heart monitor going haywire.

Nurses flooded the room, but Billy paid them no mind, his eyes locking on the big brown ones.

Steve had pushed himself against the wall, giving the nurses room to check him over.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since the mall, just knows hat Steve’s face looks hurt, old bruises turning yellow and green as they healed.

He was stabilized, and he felt more steady. His breathing still hurt, but he was doing it on his own.

The few nurses made their way out once again.

“Jesus, Hargrove. Scared me half to death.” Steve didn’t sound scared. He sounded relieved. “I was almost asleep and then you took this giant breath, Christ.”

Steve’s hands were shaking as he lowered himself into a plastic chair facing Billy’s bed.

“Sorry.”

Billy’s voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk.

“How long-?”

“A few weeks.” Then Steve’s face got hurt that same night.

It was odd looking at him.

He looked so young, not the face dream Billy was used to, the face of a grown man.

“Hargrove, you okay?”

And echo of that dream.

And boy did that hurt, the realization that it was a dream.

His idyllic life with Steve.

Nothing but his subconscious. Probably creating something to keep him calm while his body healed in a coma.

“Why you here?” Speaking still burned his throat. He wished he had some water.

Maybe even tea.

Steve usually makes him a nice chamomile tea when he’s sick. Puts some fresh lemon juice and honey in there. They have a lemon tea in the backyard.

He shook himself.

That was just a dream.

“Been worried about you, man.” Steve wasn’t looking at him.

Steve has trouble with eye contact.

Years spent with a father that forced it only to berate Steve for-

What the fuck. His daydream kept bleeding over, giving him all this nonsense about the dream version of Steve he had conjured up.

“Don’t know why.”

Steve looked at him then.

“Really pulled some shit, didn’t I?”

“That doesn’t mean you, you deserve to die, or something. You weren’t in control.”

“Was that night I beat your face in.”

Steve looked away again.

“Water under the bridge.”

Steve once told him he doesn’t know what that expression means, just that he’s heard people use it in situations like this.

“You don’t even know what that means.” Billy couldn’t stop himself.

He just blurted it out.

And Steve gave him a funny look.

Because of course he does. Because this Steve, this real Steve is different than the coma fantasy one Billy conjured up.

“Well, no. But people usually say it like that, don’t they?”

And Billy just stared at him.

And then his vision went hazy around the edges, and he slipped back into darkness.

“Which one?”

Steve was holding up two pairs of swim trunks. Billy was just staring at his ass.

“You know I like those little green ones.”

Steve threw him a look over his shoulder.

“I don’t think the green ones even fit anymore.”

Steve sometimes got self conscious about himself. His thighs had thickened up considerably, his ass getting plumper too. And his belly was soft, doughy, and perfect for squishing.

But the green shorts fit, even though they were tight.

And Billy loved his older body, loved when Steve put on some extra fluff. A chubby Steve meant a happy Steve. And Billy would know.

You learn a lot about a person in thirty-some years.

Steve was dressed now, shouldering a bag.

“Beach time?” His eyes were bright.

“Beach time.”

They held hands as they walked.

The air smelled like ocean spray.

The beach was close to their little house, and they found their usual spot right away, far from any other beach patrons.

“Hargrove!”

Billy came to with a start, back in the cold hospital room, back with a younger Steve.

What the fuck was going on?

“Sorry, you kinda passed out. I thought you were slipping back under, or something.”

Steve looked sheepish.

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t. Not totally.

Because Billy wanted to live in that fucking daydream for the rest of his goddamn life.

“Sorry, I should let you sleep. I mean you’re probably exhausted.” Steve stood up, gathering the few things he had with him, a water bottle, and empty coffee cup, and a book. An old worn out copy of The Outsiders.

That’s dream Steve’s favorite book. He reads it once every year. He said it was the first book he ever read in class that actually gripped him. The only one he actually took the time to push through his rampant dyslexia to read and understand.

He won’t be diagnosed dyslexic until he’s 23. He’ll feel really vindicated and Billy will take him out for a fancy dinner. They’ll go skinny dipping in the ocean after and Steve will whine the whole time.

Billy hadn’t realized he had been staring at Steve the whole time that all ran through his brain, not until Steve snapped his fingers in front of him.

“Billy!”

“Yeah, what? Sorry.”

“Are you okay? Should I get a nurse?”

“No, I just-” he tried to scrub a hand down his face, found his muscles screamed out at the movement of his muscles after who knows how long in that bed.

It didn’t matter anyway, as his hands were wrapped up in a mitten of bandages.

“Was havin’ a good dream.”

“What was it about?”

Billy couldn’t look at Steve. Couldn’t look at those big brown eyes, couldn’t search for the specks of gold, the streaks of green that he knows are there.

“Future. Dream future, I guess.”

“Do you-” Steve hesitated, and Billy finally looked at him, watched as he reached up to tug on a lock of hair near the crown of his head. A nervous tick he’s had since he was a kid. “Do you wanna share?”

“California. Little house by the beach. Slice of Heaven, really.”

“A wife?”

“Been married for a few years.”

“She pretty?”

“The prettiest.”

Steve smiled at him softly.

“Sorry you had to wake up to me, then.”

And that? That made Billy wanna tear out his own damn hair. Made him wanna pull Steve to lay on top of him the way they both like, pet through Steve’s hair, tell him how goddamn perfect you are, Sugar.

“It’s okay. Prefer your company.”

“I guess I’m alright if the alternative is being alone.”

“Cut that out.”

Steve blinked at him.

“We’ve been talking like, five minutes and all you’ve done is apologize and talk shit on yourself.”

“Sorry, I- it’s just a habit, I guess.” He was back to playing with his hair. Being a little rougher, tugging on the lock between his fingers a bit. Billy sighed as well as he could with his burning lungs.

“Just, I like it that you’re here, okay? I’d tell you to beat it if I wanted you gone.”

And Steve smiled at him.

One of his six real smiles, not one of the eleven fake ones.

Billy can tell.

Because the real ones make his nose scrunch a bit. They make his eyes go bright and his shoulders bunch up.

And he must’ve fallen back into that dream again, because suddenly he was looking at his Steve, his grown up Steve, giving him that exact same real smile as Billy ran wet fingers over his skin.

And he pulled Steve close to him in the shower, mouthing at the skin of his neck.

And if this was a dream, he was going to burn all of this into his memory.

The way Steve’s skin tastes, the way he gasps when Billy nibbles at his ear. The way Billy feels buried deep inside him, in the soft bed that they share, the one that took months to buy because Steve is weirdly picky about bedframes for no discernible reason.

And just as he was watching Steve’s face crumple, as he was trying to memorize the exact noises he makes as he cums, he was jolted out of his dream by the real Steve, fucking sneezing.

“Sorry.” He looked distressed. “You were like, really asleep and I, I tried to hold it back.”

“’S okay. Know you got that dust thing.”

Billy was drowsy. He felt like he was inches underwater, everything moving slowly around him. Almost like the world was a little muffled.

Turns out his last dose of pain meds had been administered while he was out.

“Wait, what dust thing?”

“Got that. You know. You’re allergic to dust. And peanuts. And cashews. And-the green ones.”

“Pistachios?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know that?”

“You told me. Nearly fuckin’ killed you first time we really made out. I had just eaten a PB and J. Sent you into anaphylaxis.”

Billy felt himself drifting, that perfect dreamland tugging him back.

And then there was a cold hand on his arm, shaking him gently.

“Billy, Billy don’t fall asleep. You gotta, Billy what the fuck? We haven’t made out. We, how do you know what I’m allergic to?”

But Billy was swallowed up by sleep once again.

He was laying next to Steve, stretched out on their bed, Steve’s head resting on his shoulder.

“Today was nice. Haven’t had a day like that in such a long time.”

“We should do it more often, then. Call outta work and hang out at the beach all day.”

Steve rolled a bit to glare playfully at Billy.

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of setting our own hours, Mr. Boss Man.”

“Billy!”

And he was back, back to staring at the pale nervous face of Young Steve.

“Billy, you’re scaring me.”

Sunlight was beginning to haze through the meager window at the end of the hospital room. Billy hadn’t had any idea of time since he got here.

Steve looked like shit, like he hadn’t slept all night.

“Billy, I don’t know if you remember, everything you said before you fell asleep but-”

“I remember.”

Steve furrowed his brows.

“How do you know that? About, about my allergies. And yesterday, you said, you said I didn’t know what water under the bridge meant. And you said, that we m-made out.”

Billy sighed again, his lungs protesting the effort.

“My dream. The future. You’re the person. My person. And now it’s like, whatever Dream Billy knows about Dream Steve I know. And I figured I just, like, made all that shit up.”

Steve was studying his face.

“Okay, then let’s see if you’ve just had some lucky guesses. Tell me what else you know, and maybe it’s all wrong.”

And Billy didn’t really like the way Steve looked like he hoped is was all wrong. Like he didn’t wanna be tied to Billy in this way.

Billy narrowed his eyes.

“When you were fourteen you watched A Streetcar Named Desire with your mom and you credit Marlon Brando as your queer awakening.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, his mouth trembling.

“Your dad has smacked you once in your life, and it’s when you got the rejection letter from Indiana State. You hid the letter from him because you knew he’d be mad, but he found it and hit you and didn’t talk to you for nearly a month.”

Steve’s eyes were shining now.

“Your mom used to always talk about how much she wished you guys could have a better garden, but because it gets so cold here, she can’t grow anything. The house we have in the daydream has like, a huge fucking garden in it, by the way. I hate gardening but you love it.”

Steve stood abruptly, pacing the length of the room in front of Billy’s bed. Billy just kept going.

It was like everything was ready to burst out of him. To prove that he knows Steve, that he loves Steve. Even if this Steve is somehow different to Dream Steve.

“You go fucking batshit over corn on the cob, just with a little butter and salt on there. That’s somehow your favorite food. Because you’re the most Midwesterner to ever Midwestern, I guess. Your second favorite food is your grandmother’s lasagna. You keep trying to recreate her recipe and no matter how much I tell you it’s fucking delicious, you always get this little pout going and explain to me about how it’s not quite right. You only started smoking because-”

“That’s, I think that’s enough.”

Steve looked like a strong gust of wind would knock him right over.

“It true.?”

“It’s, it’s all true. In, in detail. I mean the, the letter, and my dad. I swore I was never gonna tell anyone about that.”

“It took you a few years. We were talking about my dad. How he treated me, and you admitted that. How sometimes you think about that one time and it makes you sad because that was my everyday-” Billy cut himself off.

Because fuck.

He forgot that Steve knows jack fucking all about Billy.

Which means Steve was currently giving him that look, that wide-eyed, nostrils flared, mouth tight look that he always did when he was angry on Billy’s behalf.

It was kinda hot.

“Excuse me?”

“Forgot my apparent psychic abilities were limited to just me knowing about you.”

“Billy, did your dad hit you?”

And Billy kinda saw no point in lying anymore.

“All the damn time.”

And Steve was back to pacing.

“Fuck. Fuck. That honestly, wow that explains a lot. I mean, yeah. I get it now. I get it.”

Billy let him mutter to himself.

Steve always does better thinking out loud.

“You know, I was actually fucking nervous to tell you, but now I don’t care. Your dad was one of the flayed.”

“Yeah, I know. Only person I never felt guilty about.”

“You’re handling this, like, scary well.”

“Technically, I’ve had thirty years of therapy. All this has been processed already.”

“Wait, your little dream is thirty years in the future?”

“About.”

“So we’re, like, fifty?”

“About.”

“How do I look?”

Billy barked a laugh, regretting it almost immediately as his whole body screamed in protest. He wheezed a few times before he felt like he could speak again.

“I think you’re hot, but you don’t handle aging well.”

“Oh, God. What’s the damage?”

“Not telling. You’re just gonna spend the next thirty years stressing more than you already would. But lemme tell you, first time you found a grey hair? That was the funniest day of my damn life. It was like being in a soap opera. You found it and then called our lawyer to begin drawing up a will. And you kept saying how you probably only have a few god years left in you. It was hilarious.”

“Glad to know you laugh at my pain.”

“It’s one grey hair. Plus you maintain good health, don’t worry. You’ve got plenty of time to whine over grey hairs.”

“At least I don’t go bald.”

“Nah. Full head of natural hair. Not even receding.”

Steve brushed a hand through his hair, dropping heavily back into the seat next to Billy’s bed.

“Man, this is too trippy. Like, from my end, we’re not even close, you know? But to you, we’ve been together for decades. That’s fucking wild.”

“Imagine how I feel. Am I some kind of psychic now, or is this all just fucking delusion?”

“I mean, you know too much shit about me for everything to be, like, a figment of your imagination. But what happens now? Like, if we don’t live out the future just like your daydream, is the world gonna fall apart? Or is that an alternate dimension? Like, if the Upside Down exists, there’s gotta be other worlds too. Is that one of them and maybe because you were infected by the Mind Flayer you have like, a link between both worlds?” Steve’s brows were furrowed, his eyes darting all over the ceiling as he thought out loud. “And, I mean, I’m confused. I don’t know what my feelings towards you are. Like, don’t get me wrong, there’s been interest since you showed up. But now you’re telling me in some reality, we’ve been together for thirty years, and obviously you know all this deep shit about me, so do we date? When you know me like the back of your hand and I barely know you at all? And are you technically fifty years old? Since you lived out that other life?”

Billy’s head was starting to hurt, and he felt tired again.

“Sugar, you think we could table this?”

Steve’s cheeks went red as his jaw clacked shut.

“Is that what you call me? Sugar?”

“Call you a lot ‘a stuff.”

“Uh, like, like what?”

“Sugar, Pretty Boy, Stevie, Baby, Sweet Thing, Honey. Mac n’ Steve comes to mind.” Steve smiled softly at the last one, his cheeks still warm. “Princess.” Steve opened his mouth, his brows furrowing, the blush spreading down his neck. “No sense in denying how much you like them. Those are tried and true. Thirty years of calling you all that. Plus a few others. But, you know. Those are mostly reserved for the bedroom.”

Steve’s eyes went huge again.

“Fuck. You probably know what I kinks I have better than I do.”

“Oh, we’ve done some exploring in our time.”

Steve bent forward to bury his face in his hands with an Oh, God.

“I don’t think I wanna know.”

“Trust me when I say, you enjoy most of it.”

“Oh, most. That’s great.”

“There’s some trial and error. But we’re good at laughing stuff off, you and me.”

And then Steve’s eyes went wide, and he sat up straight in his chair.

“Wait, you said. When I first asked about the dream, you said, you said married. We got-I mean, we can get married?”

“Yeah. And we like, make out in public and shit. Hold hands everywhere. We’re big saps.”

Steve took a shaky breath.

“So things get, they get better? For people like us?”

“Yeah, they do,” Billy kept his voice soft, felt like sharing this thread of hope should be kept intimate, quiet. And Steve’s face split into a wide grin.

“God, I can’t fucking wait. Just to be, not to be scared all the time. Of everyone finding out this big fucking secret. It just, is.” Steve huffed a laugh. “Can’t believe it. Two guys getting married. Was our wedding nice?”

“We had two. One in the courthouse, one with everybody.”

“Wow. I just can’t believe it-wait, who;s everybody?”

“Your gang of weirdos. Here.”

And Steve lips parted, and he made that cute little face he always does before he cries.

“They all come? Dustin and the Byers and everyone?”

“Robin officiates. Dustin cries really fuckin’ loudly.”

“And they’re all, they’re all fine with it?”

“Yep.”

“God. It’s all, you think it’s too good to be true?”

“Everything I know about you was right. Don’t see a reason why everything else would be wrong.”

“Then, where do we go from here? Like, do we try to follow your memories? Or, forge our own path? Will the fact that we know about this future automatically change it?”

Billy’s heart was doing something funny as Steve wondered aloud to himself about all this.

The fact that he was all in, dead set on having this happy future with Billy, when he didn’t even know Billy.

“Are you sure about this? If we do this? Or some form of it. I mean, I know fucking everything about you. And you don’t know me at all.”

“I know you well enough to see the good in you. I know you well enough to see that under all your big scary toughness you’re caring. And you’re kind. Although you’d probably rather be dead than admit it. And besides. If, in another reality, or in the future, or whatever, I pick you to spend my life with, obviously that means there’s something in you that makes me love you.”

Billy gawked at him.

His face was hot, no doubt bright fucking red.

Because, holy shit was that a lot.

And even Billy, used to Steve’s passionate little tangents after thirty dream-years worth, was taken aback by how quickly Steve was ready to jump into this.

And all of a sudden, Billy wanted nothing more than to reach out to Steve, to pull him close and kiss him until he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Harrington, I’m gonna need you to come kiss me right the fuck now.”

And Steve smiled, his most sunshiney happy smile, and the chair legs scraped along the tiled floor as he got up, sitting carefully on the edge of Billy’s bed.

He leaned over him, cupping Billy’s cheek in his hand, and pressing the softest of sugar kisses to his lips.

Billy let his eyes flutter closed, and he put one hand bandaged on Steve’s lap, wanting to grasp at him, to pull him even closer.

But Steve wrapped his other hand as gently as possible around the thick bandages, pulling away slowly, studying Billy’s face.

“I never asked. Is this always how our first kiss went?”

And Billy tried to search his memory, tried to find the sweet first kiss.”

“I-I don’t remember.”

Steve sat back.

“What?”

“Our first kiss, from the memories. I don’t remember. It’s like, when I think of our first kiss, all I can think of is that one just now. The other one is gone.”

An ache settled in Billy’s chest at the prospect, at losing a perfect memory with Steve. Losing their first kiss.

“So, when we do something, it like, replaces the old memory?”

“I guess.”

“So, we can build new ones then. And like, you won’t have to go through your whole life twice. We can start closer to square one. Memories that’ll be ours, and not ones that I don’t know.”

And that’s true.

For the pain of every memory gone is a brand new one, one that Steve would remember and be a part of too.

“Then I’m not telling you anymore. If we’re gonna build the memories together, we can’t be working off of some, some blueprint. Things need to be ours.”

“Agreed. We’ll make it up as we go.” Steve hadn’t stopped smiling at Billy.

“Is it weird I’m gonna kinda miss seeing you all old? You’re a silver fucking fox.”

“Yes, Bill. That’s fucking weird.” Steve took his hand and pressed a kiss on his bandages, right over where his palm will be. “Just means you’ll have to watch me go through it all again, though.”

“God, that’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Yeah? That get you going? The thought of me aging?”

“Nah, Pretty Boy. The thought of us aging together.”

“Wow. When you said we’re saps, you really meant it.”

Billy rolled his eyes, sighing as deeply as he could.

“Can it, Harrington. Or I’ll call the nurse and have you escorted out by security.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t. You’d miss me too much.” Steve pressed another kiss to his bandaged hand before sliding off the hospital bed, sitting back in this chair, scooting it as close as possible to the bed. He rested his elbows on the edge of Billy’s bed, and set his chin in his hands. “So, California, huh? When do we head out there?”

“Remember, like, twenty seconds ago when I said I wasn’t gonna say any more?”

Steve pushed his bottom lip out, making his eyes go big as he pouted at Billy.

“That doesn’t work on me anymore, Baby.” That was absolutely a lie. It worked on Billy nearly every time. But what’s he gonna do, reveal his weakness to Steve? Absolutely fucking not.

“C’mon, Bill. Just like, the year.”

“Nope. Not saying a damn thing.”

“Please?” Steve pouted some more.

“So odd to hear you begging outside of the bedroom.” Billy grinned with his tongue between his teeth as Steve dropped his little pouty face, his cheeks going red. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Steve rolled his eyes. Sailing right past pleading and into petulant.

“Fine. I’ll just rot here until you decide to whisk me away to California. Better make it soon or else I may just die of boredom.”

“Jesus, so fucking dramatic. Didn’t we say we’re gonna make our own memories and shit? You can very well ask me to run away with you.”

“Maybe we should like, go on a date first. So I know you’re not a serial killer before I get in a car with you and drive out of state.”

“You’re so weird.” Steve made a snarky face at him. “But you better be planning our first date. I don’t wanna accidentally repeat the other one. Want us to have our own.”

And Billy felt that overwhelming sense of sadness at losing the memories of the other date, the perfect timid experience. Going to the diner and ordering to go, eating while sitting on the hood of Steve’s car overlooking the quarry, talking for hours and hours.

But he’ll get a new memory. One he’ll cherish just as much, maybe even more, knowing that Steve will cherish the memory too.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll take out. Maybe just metaphorically speaking, as I don’t think you’re in any shape to be going out.”

“Ha ha, Shithead. Just make it nice. You’ve got a lot to live up to.”

Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he sighed dramatically.

“If our whole relationship is just you holding me to the impossibly high standard of alternate reality me, then I want out now.”

“Relax. The standard’s not that high.”

Steve made an indignant squawking sound.

Billy just laughed.

“I’m kidding. Just, you know. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble meeting the standard. I fell for you once. I can do it again.”

And Steve’s face went all soft again, and he curled forward to rest his head on Billy’s arm.

“Thirty years. Always thought I’d end up divorced. People tend to get sick of me.”

“Not me. Never got sick of you, never gonna get sick of you. You’re stuck with me.”

“Then you’re stuck with me too.”

#yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

Text

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Six: Little Damerons

Series Masterlist

Plot: Poe and Y/n take a trip for Poe’s birthday.

Warnings: extreme fluff, so much fluff, chocolate dipped cotton candy with sprinkles kind of fluff

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Life has been kicking my ass these past few weeks so writing has been on the back burner. It’s still insane but I found time to finish this one. It felt like the series deserved a nice piece of fluff consider it’s so intense 😂 Please forgive any typos, I’m lazy and tired and my brain is basically mush right now...

————

The first sound I heard upon waking up made me smile before I’d even opened my eyes. Bee’s beeps and squeals were moving around the room at a frantic pace.

“Thank you, Bee,” I groaned, “I got it from here.”  As it was every morning, Poe’s arms were locked tightly around my waist. It was of great difficulty turning myself around so I could face him. He hadn’t moved a muscle through Bee’s wake-up call and didn’t show any sign of changing that. I rolled over onto his torso and finally got a groggy moan out of him.

“Good morning, birthday boy,” I greeted him in a singsong tone, propping my chin up on his chest.

Poe rubbed a hand over his face and opened his bleary eyes, focusing them on me. “What if the birthday boy wanted to sleep?”

“As willing as I am to grant any and all wishes today, that one is a no-go,” I replied sweetly, tapping him on the nose lightly, “We’ve gotta haul ass if we’re going to make the most of a rare day off.”

I began to roll towards the edge of the bed but was apprehended. Poe pulled me back into his arms and maneuvered me to straddle him in one smooth motion. His hands found their way up his shirt I was wearing and rubbed circles into my back, sending a shiver through my body.  “I’ve actually got other plans for our asses at the moment,” he said, his gruff morning voice and suggestively raised brow making it nearly impossible to deny him, “Ten minutes tops.”

“You and I both know neither of us does ‘ten minutes tops’, Dameron,” I said, trying my best to ignore his hands wandering south and failing as a soft moan escaped me. “But I did say I was granting wishes today.”  Poe lazily smiled up at me as I slid my hands up his smooth chest and lowered my lips to his. He took me by surprise and flipped me over so I was trapped underneath him, the two us laughing into the kisses that followed…

————

A significant amount of time more than ten minutes later, Poe and I were far from Ajan Kloss in the cockpit of his new X-Wing. Ever since we’d planned where to spend his birthday, I’d been dreading the destination we were fast approaching. But there was no chance of me ruining the day with ghosts from the past.

“Coming out of hyperspace,” Poe reported as he performed the action, bringing us face to face with the planet. A shiver of panic ran through me as my blood ran cold. The blue waters only reminded me of blue blades clashing in a fit of desperation and rage. “You sure you’re okay with this?”  “Yeah,” I said firmly, trying to feel as confidant as I sounded, “I’ll be fine, there’s no way I’d miss this.”  Poe hummed in disbelief but kept us on course, steering us towards a greener portion of the menacing planet. I tried to center myself, I wanted to be fully in the moment for the day. It was too important to Poe and I’d been looking forward to it ever since we’d started dating. Anxiety ran through me again as we flew above the greenery, memories of wandering aimlessly above trees flooding my mind. As we got closer to our destination though, my stress began to lessen as the excitement set in.

Eventually, we were landing in a large clearing of land near a small house. I was the first to pop out of the cockpit and make it down the ladder with Poe following close behind. Our feet had barely touched the ground before a figure emerged out the front door of the house and made a gentle sprint towards us. Poe left my side to jog over to meet him, the two of them embracing upon collision and laughing joyfully. I watched from a distance, beaming as I watched the reunion between father and son.

Poe kept an arm on Kes as he gestured for me to come join them, “Dad, this is Y/n.”  Kes Dameron was, I had a feeling, the spitting image of Poe in thirty years. They could have passed for brothers with a significant age difference. As soon as I made it over, I was pulled into a warm hug. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to finally meet you, Y/n,” he said over my shoulder, “I’ve heard so much about you.”  “You as well,” I returned as we pulled back to get a look at each other, “Poe’s told me such wonderful things about you.”  “However many times he’s brought me up, I can promise you,” Kes said, his eyes flicking to his son briefly, “It’s nothing close to the number of times I’ve heard about the captivating Y/n Solo.”  I smirked and turned around to face a very pink cheeked Poe, “Captivating, huh?”  He stammered, “I mean, I may have used it once…”

Kes’ chest rumbled with laughter as he patted my back, “Come inside and I promise to embarrass him some more.”

He pulled me under one arm and his son under the other and we made our way into the Dameron homestead. It seemed that I stood to finally leave Yavin 4 with some pleasant memories…

————

We’d spent our day catching Kes up on our lives, it had been a while since Poe had last visited so there was a lot to fill him in on. The former comrade of my family gave me his sincerest condolences over the losses of Dad and Uncle Luke. It was so strange to think of my family and Poe’s having known each other, like there’d been a decades old string connecting the two of us together. Kes regaled us with stories from his days as a soldier and we told him a few of ours. I shared more than Poe, it was clear he didn’t want to worry his father too much with his particular brand of reckless. Kes eventually caught the lightsaber hooked to my belt and asked about my training.   “Before you leave, you have to go out to the backyard,” he said, “Your uncle gifted us with a Force after the war, someone like you needs to experience it.”  Once the skies darkened and we sat around the dinner table, Kes made good on his promise to embarrass my loving boyfriend.  “So Shara and I come running into the backyard and there he is,” Kes slapped his son’s shoulder, “Cockpit closed, lifting the damn ship into the air!”  I had my napkin covering my mouth as I laughed uncontrollably, the image of Poe as a child giving his parents a heart attack was completely believable. “Had he ever been up before?”  “Only with Shara and she never let him touch the controls,” Kes replied with a laugh, “He’d watched her enough times to know how to get it off the ground.”  Poe was a sport about each story from his early years, defending himself occasionally, though very few of them left him with an opportunity to do so. He’d been just as much trouble as a kid as he was now.

“I wish I could say I’m surprised,” I chuckled, “My dad never let me touch a thing on the Falcon until I was thirteen. And I didn’t fly her on my own for much longer.”  “Keep up, Solo,” Poe teased from across the table, “Some of us are doers.”  I smiled and shook my head at him, “I think you broke enough rules for the both of us in your younger days.”  “You calling me old?” Poe asked with a palm thrown over his heart in mock pain.  “Are you calling thirty three young?” I quipped back, swirling my wine in its glass, “I saw a couple gray hairs the other morning I didn’t tell you about.”

Poe’s cocky expression faltered briefly as his eyes widened before returning to normal, “You’re lying.”  Kes and I caught each other’s eye and shared a sly smile, both choosing to take a sip of our alcohol and leave Poe in suspicion. His confident exterior was broken by the tentative hand that ran through his jet black curls.

I’d convinced the two Dameron men to let me clean up after dinner so that they could spend some uninterrupted time together. They didn’t get to talk as much as either of them wished, that was a reality of war. Some went months without speaking to their loved ones. I felt unbelievably lucky that my mother was only a few minutes away at any given time of the day.

As I’d finished, Kes and Poe entered the kitchen. Seeing them side by side, it truly was astonishing how similar they looked.

“I think I’m going to head to bed and let you two have some time to yourself,” Kes announced, patting Poe on the back before making his way over to me, “I’ll be up early tomorrow so I can see you off.”

He wrapped me in a fatherly hug and I sunk into it, I couldn’t remember someone as quick to welcome me into their life as Kes Dameron. In a single day he had practically initiated me into the family as one of his own. Though nothing could ever replace the holes left by the fathers I’d lost, it was comforting to be around a dad again.

We bid our goodnights and with Bee charging in our room, it was just Poe and I left. He slung an arm around my neck and I laced my fingers with his as we walked back to the living room.

“So have you had a good birthday?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

Poe laughed under his breath, “Are you kidding? This whole day has been perfect. And Dad loves you…”  “I love him,” I replied as we made our way to the sofa, “But I feel bad for him.”  “What do you mean?”  “Judging from his stories, the poor man has spent every day worrying about you since you were in diapers,” I answered as Poe fell back on the couch, keeping our hands locked.

“Every parent worries,” Poe stated plainly, “Are you saying you never worried Leia and your dad as a kid?”  “I didn’t pull half the shit that you did,” I chuckled, “I hope that particular Dameron gene doesn’t carry over to our kids.”  As soon as the words had left me, I wished I could have retracted them. Poe’s eyes eyebrows lifted in surprise as he gripped my hand. “Our whats?”  “Our…nothings,” I scrambled for a sufficient denial, “I said nothing.”

“No, you said-“  “No I didn’t,” I faked a yawn and attempted to pull my hand away, “It’s late and we have to leave early so we should get to bed.”

Poe tugged me by the hand so that I had no choice but to land next to him on the couch, “Oh no, I want to hear about these kids we’re having.”   My cheeks felt red hot to the touch as I rubbed my free hand over them and groaned. While I’d thought of mine and Poe’s future in daydreams, we’d never actually talked about it. Why should we? We’d only been together for five months. Even if we’d practically been a couple before that, it felt like a conversation for further down the line.  “It’s nothing, really.”  Poe pulled me closer and wrapped an arm around me, I settled against his chest and prayed that he let the subject go. “Well, if it’s nothing then it shouldn’t be so hard to talk about.”  “I just think about what our lives might look like after the war sometimes,” I explained timidly, fiddling with a loose thread on the sweater I wore, “We could retire somewhere like here, build a house…”  “Sounds nice," Poe said, “We’re married in this scenario, right?”

I looked up at him and caught the mischievous gleam in his eye, “I don’t know, are we?”  Poe shut his eyes and nodded, “Oh, definitely.”

“Alright,” I smiled, trying to hide my glee at the thought, “We’re married, living in our house on a planet we’ll decide on later and the war is over.”

“Sounds perfect,” he replied, rubbing his thumb back and forth against my shoulder, “And our army of kids are wrecking all sorts of havoc in the backyard.”  My body shot up at his words and I stared down at him, “Who said anything about an army?”

“I think we should have at least ten,” Poe answered so straight faced that I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not, “We could totally handle it.”

“Says the man who’s job in the child making process takes ten minutes. Who do you think’s giving birth to these ten children?” I shrieked, sending him clutching his chest and into a fit of laughter.

“Okay, fine,” he finally said after regaining his composure, “Ten’s not the magic number. But can we agree that it’s higher than two?”

I grabbed the two fingers he was holding up and settled back against his chest, “Agreed.”  “So we have an undetermined number of kids waving around lightsabers and trying to fly their old man’s X-Wing.”

“No,” I strongly objected, “No lightsabers or piloting till they’re old enough.”  “C’mon, we both know that at least one of them is going to be a Jedi considering your family. Might as well start them young.”

Of course there was no guarantee but it was safe to assume that yes, at least one of our kids would probably be Force sensitive. “Well, I hope at least one of them takes after you. I don’t think I could handle more than one little Padawan running around using the Force to throw things at their sibling’s heads.”  Poe snorted, “Knowing us, they’ll be a handful. But they’ll be great.”  “Damn right they will,” I agreed, rubbing a hand over Poe’s chest as I tried to conjure up an image of our children in my mind, “They’ll probably have your hair.”  “And your y/e/c eyes.”  “They’ll run their mouths like you.”  “But be the first to protect their family like you.”  “They’ll be reckless.”  “They’ll be stubborn,” Poe stated before inhaling deeply, “The galaxy better watch out, the Solo-Dameron-Organa-Kenobi kids will be unstoppable.”

“Okay, we’re definitely gonna have to drop a few names,” I made note of.

“I disagree, I think it conveys strength,” Poe objected, stroking a hand up and down my arm, “Hey, I’ve got a question.”  I hummed for him to continue, “How come you don’t add Kenobi to your name?”

We’d had so many conversations about my fateful visit to Ahch-To, but my family’s name was a sore spot that I hadn’t talked to him about yet. I had no way of finding out my father’s last name or if my grandmother had given my mother her last name of Kryze. Kenobi was the only name I could claim. “I thought about it but it’s not safe,” I answered quietly, “If it got out that I was the granddaughter of Obi-Wan, everyone in the galaxy would be after me even more than they already are. Believe me, I wish I could but it’s not realistic.”  

Poe squeezed me tighter on hearing my explanation, not saying a word because there was really nothing to say. Neither of us could change the fact that I was a wanted woman. Nevertheless, it killed a part of me to not be able to take pride in bearing both of my family’s names.

“So I’m guessing you’ve thought about our future too considering how many details you’ve been providing?” I asked in an attempt to lighten the mood of the conversation.

“Maybe once in a while…” he teased, “On long fights back to base or sometimes before falling asleep at night. It gives me something extra to fight for on the tough days.”  I traced the sharp outline of his jaw as I watched him speak. The thought of Poe flying his X-Wing with one of our kids on his lap or me teaching one of them how to levitate objects made my heart beat fast in excitement. But for every dream I had, there was an equal amount of doubt. I knew that the reality of our lives were that even after the war, we’d probably never have a peaceful existence. And if I shifted the focus to myself, I held my own fears about raising children.

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s even a good idea though…” I admitted, lowering my gaze, “I’ve never had any sense of normalcy in my life, I doubt I’d know how to provide it for our kids.”

“Normal is overrated, and are you kidding me? You’d be the best mom in the galaxy,” Poe said, pecking my hair softly before stroking his hand over it, “We’ll make all of it happen, might take a while but the Damerons will have their day.”  “The Damerons…” I repeated back to him, a smile spreading across my face, “I like that.”  We laid there in the quiet a while longer, soaking in the peaceful silence before our lives descended back into chaos. The one day leave for Poe’s birthday had been a gift to both of us, a 24 hour oasis in the midst of the raging storm we were caught in. We spent our days strategizing, fighting in the skies and undergoing intense training. But here we could just be…soft. We could be what we would’ve been had there been no war. I fell asleep that night on Poe’s chest, dreaming of a free galaxy and curly haired children chasing playing with BB-8 as Poe and I watched.

————

Kes hadn’t exaggerated, the Force tree my uncle had gifted him and Shara was extraordinary. I didn’t even have to try to feel connected to the Force, the second I’d stepped foot in the backyard it had overwhelmed me. There wasn’t enough time for me to properly meditate underneath it, but I still used the little time I had left to center myself. I could feel the Force flowing through every part of me, it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

“I’m glad you got to see it,” Kes’ voice called from behind me, “It’s something special.”  “Sure is,” I agreed, opening my eyes but still unable to turn away from it, “Is Poe done checking the ship?”

Kes came to stand next to me, admiring the tree too, “Almost, he sent me to come get you but you take all the time you want.”  “I wish I could,” I smiled sadly, finally turning to face the man, “But we can’t be late getting back to base. There’s so much going on, we’re lucky we got a full day off. Well, I don’t need to explain wartime to you…”

“Oh, I know exactly what you’re talking about. I saw my share of action during the Rebellion…” Kes paused, staring off into the distance as he relived a decades old memory. He snapped back after a few seconds, shaking his head and returning his gaze to me, “Well, I’m just glad I got to see the two of you for however long I could. I worry about both of you.”

“You worry about me?” I asked with a quirk of my lips.  Kes’ expression shifted further into its somberness, “Of course I do. I know how dangerous war is but I also know how dangerous it is to be in love during war. There wasn’t a day during the Rebellion where I wasn’t worried about losing Shara. I know both of you know that feeling well.”  I nodded, not trusting my voice at the moment. The thought of something happening to Poe was quick to make me emotional.

 “I’ve lost the love of my life, the last thing I want is for either of you to have to go through that. The two of you…You’ve got something very few people are lucky enough to find. Something that deserves to live on long after this war is over.”  There didn’t seem to be a right thing to say in response. Poe and I’s worry for one another never waned, it was like a constant white noise in both our minds. There was no guarantee of seeing the next day during war. It was a reality we lived with every day whether tucked away in base or on mission off world. How many couples were casualties of war? Too many to count, my parents having been one of them. But the belief that Poe and I wouldn’t lose each other was something I clung to each day. The future we both fought for was one where we didn’t have to worry about losing one another.

“It’s a constant fear, losing him,” I mused as I stared out at the clear sky, watching the rising sun, “But I don’t regret being with him, not for a second. He’s worth all of it.”  “I know he feels the same way,” Kes smiled softly and patted my arm, “From what Poe has told me, you’ve pulled your share of stunts.”  I swiveled back to face Kes and raised a finger, “If he’s talking about what happened above Batuu, I’d like to play up the fact that I took out eight TIE’s singlehandedly.”  The former rebel soldier cocked an eyebrow, “Impressive, but no…He told me about Crait.”  “Crait…” I sighed, finding the ground much more interesting to look at.

“Even before he told me I’d heard about it. You were the talk of the city and I imagine everywhere else.”  “Yeah, apparently news travels fast…”  Crait seemed like a lifetime ago. It was no longer the actual fight between Ren and I that bothered me, though I’d admit to still questioning why he hadn’t killed me occasionally. It was the legend status I’d achieved without trying to. The over exaggerated tale of my heroics had spread across the galaxy quicker than I knew what to do with. Not only was I one of, if not the, most wanted woman in the galaxy but even the Resistance had begun treating me differently. Seemingly everyone except my mother and friends treated me as if I was some deity. I was glad no one else knew about my being a Kenobi or the attention would become too much to handle.

“I hope you’ll see that more as a symbol of what I’m willing to do for the cause rather than my personality. What I’m willing to do to protect the people I love,” I said, staring at him with all the conviction in the world, “That includes Poe.”  “I know, and that dedication is what makes the Resistance, and Poe, lucky to have someone like you.”  I could hear Bee’s squeals, only making out my name and knowing that we needed to head out. Kes and I turned to each other regretfully before he put an arm around my shoulders and we began to make our way out of the backyard. I turned my head to get one more look at the Force tree and silently promised myself that the next time I came, I’d spend a proper amount of time underneath it.

Poe was beginning to load Bee into the X-Wing when Kes and I rounded the corner of the house. Even though we were headed back to base where as soon as we landed we’d be thrown back into our responsibilities, he still looked relaxed. He hadn’t put on his commander’s hat yet and was simply Poe Dameron at home with the people he loved. He reminded me of the day I’d gotten back from my last stay with Dad, when we’d flown back from the transport station. We’d both been so carefree and at ease and I’d wished then what I was wishing now…for the war to be over.

“Any more Poe stories you want to send me off with?” I jokingly asked Kes, we were still far enough away that Poe wouldn’t hear me.

“There was one I wanted you to hear, he’d never forgive me if I told him but…” Kes chuckled and waved his hand dismissively, bringing our walk to a halt. “It was the day he arrived at the Resistance base. We’d talked after Leia recruited him about how excited he was about having command of his own fighting wing, meeting the other pilots…Pretty much everything he spoke about had something to do with an X-Wing. That night he called me and you could’ve paid him any amount of credits to talk about anything flying related and he wouldn’t have cared. The first thing he said to me after ‘Yeah, everything’s fine’ was ‘I’m pretty sure I met my future wife today.’ And for the rest of the call, not one mention of any ship. Just about this girl who had shown him around base and ate dinner with him and who he tried to be extra funny around just to make her smile. I made sure to make note of what he was saying so once I finally got to meet this Y/n he spoke so highly of, I could tell her that there hasn’t been one day that boy’s known you where he hasn’t been in love with you.”

My grin was practically idiotic by the time he’d finished telling his story. Poe had only mentioned that he’d fallen for me the first day we’d met and he’d never mentioned anything about telling Kes about me. I gazed over at Poe, standing atop the ladder next to his ship and my heart swelled. Just as it did when he returned home from a mission and we’d embrace outside of his ship. Or when we’d climb into bed together at the end of a long day and his arms would instinctively wrap around me. Or when I’d work late nights in the command center and he’d send Bee in with a sweet note stuck to the droid’s body. I didn’t think it was possible to fall any more in love with him, but every day he showed me it was. He spotted us and waved me and his dad over. After a tearful goodbye with Kes, Poe and I were on our way back to base.

When we were in hyperspace, I tilted my head to press a kiss to the side of Poe’s mouth. He smiled at me, “What was that for?”

“I just love you,” I shrugged.  “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I love you too,” he replied, taking my chin between two of his fingers and locking our lips together.

————

A/N: I’ve been getting notifications every few days that people have been liking chapters which causes me to skim over some of them. I really can’t believe I started this series back in May as a way of coping with quarantine boredom and here we are six months later and I can see the end in the distance. I’m so glad that you guys enjoy it and it can distract you from the nightmare that is this year for just a few minutes. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this one! Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers!! 🦃🦃🦃

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osamiiya · 3 years

Text

5:34pm -𝙰𝚔𝚊𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝙺𝚎𝚒𝚓𝚒

Summary: Akaashi's beautiful at sunset.

A/n: let's all collectively pretend I did something here, cause I was thinking "I'm so poetic" when I wrote it and now I'm like 🧍‍♀️. Also happy birthday to Akaashi

Laying on Akaashi's chest; he's asleep and breathing gently, one hand in your hair and the other up above his head, pulling his shirt up so his stomach peeks out form under the seam. It's about sunset, and your bedroom is cast in a golden glow, illuminating Akaashi's features; making his skin look tanner, lips slightly parted, eyelashes resting gently on his cheekbones, and his hair look as dark as ink as it splays across his forehead, almost but not quite reaching his eyes. He smells like the cologne he put on before coming over and slightly of the pen he used to write down notes.

Akaashi had originally come over to do homework, a study date if you will, but the stress of the week and nights spent studying and doing homework finally taking a toll on him. His neat notes spread across the floor, stationary resting in the crease of his textbook, also on the floor.

"I'm just going to rest my eyes." He had given you a tired smile, opening his arms for you to slot yourself into, fitting like a puzzle piece into his arms, like you were made for eachother. As cliche as that sounds.

What was originally 'resting his eyes' quickly turned into thirty minutes, one hour, two, until he finally stirred, groaning slightly as he stretched his back.

It's slightly disappointing, you had woken up before him, feeling blessed to be able to see your boyfriend at ease and vulnerable, to now have him stir and peek a steel blue eye open, the light from the window too much at once.

"What time is it?" His voice is deep and raspy from lack of use, and you feel as he shifts to place a kiss in your hair.

"Almost six, but don't worry about it." He hums in understanding, rubbing the hand above his head over his face, letting out a deep breath.

"Hungry?" Akaashi's eyes lazily travel to yours at your question, eyes teasing and tired.

"I could eat, want me to cook?" His hand comes over to push your hair out of your face, tucking what he could behind your ear.

You don't say anything as you stare at his face, he really was beautiful.

"Y/n?"

"You're beautiful Keiji." The smile that grows on his face rivals the sunrise, it's beautiful and shy at the unexpected complement.

"I could say the same about you love."

Dinner is forgotten as Akaashi kisses you and brings you closer, not caring for dinner when he could rather stay in bed with you, watching as the sunset cast shadows on your face, kissing each area that the sun no longer touched.

It's peaceful, and it's so Akaashi.

---

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springalwayscomes · 4 years

Text

How you say it

Plot: Saying “I love you” for the first time to Taehyung seems to be your biggest problem, until it slips out of your lips when you’re half asleep.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship

Wordcount: 2.1k

Author’s note: I actually wrote this when I just got out of bed, I was listening to a Taehyung asmr and couldn’t stop myself. Hope you like it! :)

It was almost midday and you were still wrapped in the sheets like a human burrito, Taehyung’s arms holding you against his body, face in the crook of your neck and a hand locked with yours against your belly.

You felt asleep like this tonight, your first night together. Taehyung made you feel like a brand new person; you never thought you could feel so important to someone, not even the slightest. It was a mixture of feelings that made your chest feel bigger and bigger just to hold the keep growing size of your heart, of your love for him. Is it even possible to love someone like this? That’s the last thing you thought before drifting asleep, him whispering in your ear and you mentally slapping yourself for not saying those three words. You’ve been thinking about it for a while now, you know that by keeping your feelings only for you you won’t get to anything. Taehyung needs to know, and yesterday night was the perfect scenario to do it, but the words got stuck in your throat every time you even thought about letting them slip out. There was something you couldn’t quite discern dreading you, so you ended up just enjoying your time together and falling asleep in his arms with the slightest feeling of regret in the sea of fondness and love you felt in your chest.

«Jagi» Taehyung whispers in your ear. He woke up thirty minutes ago but decided to leave you sleep more and just kept his gaze on your face for the rest of the time, thinking about yesterday night and how the hell is it possible he got so lucky to have you. You make his whole world lightest, clearer, a better place.

«Wake up»

His fingers start to move, tickling your belly and leaving yours just to trace a path going from them to your elbow, then again to your shoulder. He keeps brushing his pads against your skin, creating patterns and abstract paintings on you as if he was both the artist and the brush and you the canvas.

«It’s midday» he whispers again, this time placing his face in the crook of your neck and leaving a soft kiss there.

You’re slightly drifting off of sleep, the first moments of the day leading you to keep your eyelids close to freeze time and stay like this forever. Despite this though, you’re still drunk with sleep. Totally.

«Aren’t you going to wake up?»

His fingers stop moving for a second or two, his breath fanning across the skin of your neck and giving you goosebumps. They move again, this time reaching the place where his face is and tapping lightly on your skin.

«Wake up, jagi» stretching out the “i” he makes it sound like a whine as he puffs, every single breath meeting your skin. Taehyung slides his fingers on your jaw line, his thumb caressing it.

«You’re so beautiful in the morning» he lets out as he stretches out on you to watch your face, like a little curios child. His voice sends shivers at your back, incredibly low and thick in the morning, even more than usual, husky and intoxicating. It makes you squeeze your eyes and finally open your mouth.

«I love you»

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Did you really say it? Now? You spent the last two months thinking about the perfect moment, and certainly you weren’t thinking of something like this. In your imagination you didn’t have disheveled hair, bad breath and weren’t half asleep. You wanted it to be perfect, and you just screwed everything up again. It just slipped out of your mouth and you didn’t even think about it, too drunk with sleep.

You‘re not even sure if Taehyung heard it, given the time he’s taking to answer, maybe he didn’t hear it. Or maybe he’s simply trying to avoid answering. Now, you’re sure you’re awake, fully awake.

Taehyung heard it, sure as hell he heard it, his heart is beating so fast that he thinks he might have an heart attack. He desperately wants to answer you, but he’s not sure that this is the way it’s supposed to be, you still seem totally asleep after all, and you could’ve just spoke in your sleep and weren’t really talking to him. The thought makes him frown, his beautiful pouty lips sticking out until they lightly brush against your skin again.

He thinks he’s not supposed to answer, but as the time passes by and your body stiffs in his arms for the frustration, he hears you gulp more and more, trying to push the weight you feel in you downer and downer hoping it will eventually go away, your breath more short than before even though it’s still even.

He figures out you’re awake, and instinctively holds you tighter, pressing you more against his body, your back completely slinky against his abdomen. He holds you so tight that for a moment you forget what you’ve done.

«Jagi» he whispers against your skin, finally gaining enough strength. «Wake up, please»

You keep your eyes closed, locked and shut like a shop during the holiday season, desperately hoping he didn’t choose to avoid answering, or at least that he didn’t really heard you. You want to crumble in his arms and pretend that nothing happened, and apparently feigning of being asleep seems the only answer you can find.

«Please» his voice is full again, his face parts from the crook of your neck and for a second you think he might have given up, but not even a moment later you feel the bed moving again and his right arm comes at your other side as he hovers over you with his trunk. Taehyung looks at you from up, your disheveled hair looks nothing like you think they look to him. They don’t seem messy, displayed all over the pillow and framing your face like a Van Gogh paint, they make you seem more ethereal to him. Taehyung can’t wrap his head around how lucky he got to have you, right here under him he feels overwhelmed.

«Why don’t you wake up so I can answer you?» he frowns.

Your heart skips a beat, Taehyung prays you’ll open your eyes as he lowers his face until it’s just an inch away from yours.

«Please, open your beautiful eyes» he whispers. His breath fans on your face and even though you feel like dying, you force yourself to open your eyes just the slightest. Your lids are still heavy with sleep, and Taehyung giggles at the sight.

«You’re cute»

«Oh, stop» you whine, bringing your palms on your face to cover it. Certainly, you didn’t expect him to lower and place kisses all over them, and when he does, the action makes your insides melt. His pecks are intoxicating, even if it’s just on your hands. Soft lips tracing a path of fondness until one of his hands decides to slide them off, finding you with your eyes closed again and your cheeks red. He smiles at the sight, the deepest feeling he ever felt for someone taking over him in his chest.

«What are you doing?» he asks. Your cheeks reddish even more.

«It’s so embarrassing,» you whine «please stop»

Taehyung gulps and decides he’ve had enough of the lack of your lips against his, so he lowers his face and finally kisses you. It’s just a peck, he feels the way you’re taken aback at the sudden action. He does it again and again and again, and again. At the six peck you finally realize it’s time to collaborate and your lips move against his in a sweet exchange of fondness. Have you already said how much you love his lips? God, so-

«I love you, Y/N»

And he’s definitely not kissing you anymore. Not now, when he looks at you and feels like he’s holding his heart in his hands just for you, dark eyes locked on your face desperately waiting for you to open yours and give him a sight of literally anything.

The words he just said echo in your ears and mind as if he’s still repeating them, you swear your heart stops beating for a little.

Then, you open your eyes and Taehyung suddenly feels lighter, literally lighter, letting all of the weight of his trunk crush on you as he deepens his head in the space between your neck and shoulder.

Whining for the sudden action you squeeze your eyes again and he lets out a heavy breath he didn’t know he was holding.

«Sorry» he murmurs.

You lightly shake your head, wondering how the hell is it possible you ended up here in this moment, when you thought about telling him you loved him for the first time you though of you two on a date, maybe taking a walk down the shore or in the park.

«Did you mean it when you said that?» he murmurs again, weight still on you. You don’t mind it, you like to feel him like this, it comes out as natural when you lift your hands from the mattress and place them on his sides, slightly brushing them on the material of his shirt.

«I love you» you repeat. Taehyung closes his eyes, his eyelashes tickle at your skin as he lets out another heavy breath.

«Thanks god» he chuckles.

Your hand reaches his hair and plays with his locks, fisting them and releasing them the second later as you hug him tight.

«I’m sorry» you blurt out. Taehyung furrows his eyebrows, suddenly confused and lifting his head from where it was just to look at you. He fits all his body to the new position, making sure he’s comfortable as he places his legs in the middle of yours and slides down the slightest with his body on the mattress to be fully able to look at your face from your chest.

«What?»

There’s a dreading feeling in every part of his body as he looks in your eyes, maybe you want to break up with him already? Maybe-

«I didn’t want to say it like this» you blurt out again. His face relaxes once more, visually unwinding and making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

«I thought I did something wrong and you wanted to break up or-»

«Oh my god, no» you quickly cut him off, smiling down at him.

«Absolutely not. I just didn’t want to tell you like this» your hand move in the air at the last words and Taehyung looks at you puzzled once again.

«What do you mean?»

«I mean-» you take a deep breath «I pictured it more- I don’t know, my hair are all messy, my breath is bad and I literally told you my feelings half asleep, I might as well had a sleeping nose bubble going on in here or be drooling on you right now»

Your cheeks are burning as you shift your gaze from his face to the white ceiling of his room, you hear him chuckling at your words, a second later he’s hovering over you again before he slides to your side and places his hands on your hips, turning you around so easily and pushing you closer to him, body completely snug to his body and legs already intertwining.

«I ruined it all» you whisper as you look at his face. He’s so beautiful in the morning it makes your breath stuck in your throat.

«You made it more special» he answers back in a breath, eyes locking with yours.

«You didn’t ruin a thing, jagi»

«Are you-»

«I’m serious.» he cuts you off, already knowing where this is going.

«I don’t care if you would’ve said it under the rain or at a date, you could’ve said it with that bubble at your nose or drooling and it wouldn’t have mattered» his hands cup your cheeks and his thumbs stroke the skin sweetly, his dark eyes staring right deep into your soul. You lightly laugh at his last sentence, a big boxy smile creating on his lips at the view.

«This was perfect, alright? Better than anything your mind could think of. It’s intimate,» he gulps as his eyes shift to your lips «and we’re comfortable here, we can repeat what we did last night»

You scoff at his words, already bringing him to your lips by a light tug at the roots of his hair.

«What’s important is how you feel,-» he blurts out between kisses «you-» another kiss «you love me, right?»

He knows you do by now, he’s just playing around because he wants to hear it again, and you know it by the way he’s poking your hip with his fingers as he smiles against you.

«Tae, I love you» you whisper smiling. His eyes sparkle with thousands and thousands and billions more of lights.

«Then I don’t care how you say it»

And he’s back on your lips again.

Thank you so much for the notes, it means a lot to me to know that you like what I write; feel free to let me know what you think :)

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