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redgillan · 4 years

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Under Pastel Skies - 5

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 4,569

Warnings: none

A/N: Let me just thank you for your support, it’s so heartwarming and I love you so much. I’m sorry this chapter is so long, I have no idea how that happened. I hope you enjoy this :’)

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

After you agreed to move in with Bucky and become a full time artist, everything started to move incredibly fast. The dinner went well, you worked out the details of your contract with Sam and Nat who didn’t seem surprised that this was happening.

You left your job almost overnight, only giving them two weeks’ notice. They easily found a new breakfast attendant and you even trained your replacement. You emptied your locker, returned your name tag and your master key, and went on your merry way.

Now you were on your way to Bucky’s apartment, a suitcase full of clothes between your legs and another full of administrative papers, beauty products and whatnot between Natasha’s legs. She had insisted on coming with you to help you get settled. You didn’t own furniture or anything that required her help so you figured she just wanted to make sure Bucky was treating you right.

He had already transferred your monthly allowance to your bank account, which prompted your bank to call you. They wanted to know where the 5 thousand dollars came from and you told them it was a gift. “If your friend’s looking for new friends give them my number, yeah?” the man on the phone told you.

The rocking motion of the train had a soothing effect on you, almost lulling you to sleep. You let your head fall against the window and played one of your favourite game –people watching.

There was a man reading a newspaper, standing with his feet apart as if the cart was one giant skateboard. A woman was putting on makeup, another was playing a game on her phone. The woman sitting next to you was wrestling with her toddler who wanted to snatch your scarf. It was a quiet day.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Natasha asked, her face as cold as stone.

“’Bout what?” you replied in a sleepy voice.

“About your crush on James.”

“I don’t have a crush on Bucky.”

As soon as the words passed your lips, a tiny, sticky hand landed on your jaw, making a wet slapping sound. You blinked hard, your eyes trained on Natasha who was now openly smiling at the toddler next to you.

“See? Even the baby knows you’re a liar,” she said, singing the last word.

You turned your head to look at the baby and saw him put his fist in his mouth, his eyes bright and wide. With a happy squeal he launched himself at you again, smacking you in the face. The mother apologized and held her child against her chest, softly admonishing him to stop throwing himself at strangers. You felt that. He spent the rest of the ride looking at you.

“So, really, you’re going to move in with a man you have a massive crush on, and we’re not even going to talk about it,” she pressed on.

You huffed, wiping baby goo from your cheek with your sleeve. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“And you’re the bone.”

You got off the train and walked to Bucky’s apartment, your suitcase rolling behind you. Natasha was silent next to you, something that almost never happened. You counted your steps in your head, waiting for her to speak.

“You didn’t have to move out of my apartment.”

22 steps. That’s how long Natasha managed to stay quiet for. “Of course, I had to. I’m not going to do Brooklyn-Chelsea every day.”

When Bucky had offered his guest bedroom, your first reaction had been to politely refuse. Bucky seemed like a nice guy, but what if he had a glass cage in his basement? What if he trapped you there and commissioned paintings to you? Psycho killer, qu'est ce que c'est.

Then he opened up about his past, his insecurities, and it made you long to hold him. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, the kind that only come from an unprotected heart. You realized there was more chance of you hurting him than the opposite.

“You’re the one who organized this whole thing,” you reminded Natasha.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you had a crush on him. And if someone tells Okoye this was my idea, she’ll kill me.”

You turned to her with a not-sorry smile. “Yup.”

Your big sister was like most big sisters: extremely protective. When your mother had to work late, she was in charge and she took her role very seriously. You were nine when she finally got her driver’s licence, and that day she graduated from sister to mother. Eat your vegetables. Did you do your homework? I know you didn’t brush your teeth.

Okoye was loyal, protective, intimidating, and never afraid to speak her mind. When she decided to join the Dora Milaje, you thought the job was perfect for her –the king’s bodyguard, now that’s something you’d like to put on your resume.

“Do you want me to stay tonight?” Natasha asked as you got inside the elevator.

“Why are you so worried?”

“I don’t know.” She pressed her back against the wall and shrugged. “It’s always been you and me. Since first grade.”

You returned her sad smile with one of your own. “Heckle and Jeckle.”

She barked out a laugh at the memory. It was the nickname her father had for the two of you. It used to be a popular animated cartoon in the 50s. It was the story of two talking magpies who were always getting into some kind of trouble.

You stepped out of the elevator, still arguing about which one of you got to be Jeckle, the less problematic of the two, when you noticed that Bucky was patiently waiting for you by the front door. He didn’t say anything but there was an amused smile on his face.

He let you put your suitcases in the guest room near the kitchen and told you that he had to run a few errands, giving you a little privacy. Natasha hung up your clothes in the wardrobe while you unpacked your other stuff and put them away in the drawers of your dresser.

It didn’t take you long to unpack. When you were done, you threw yourself onto the bed, watching Natasha. You were excited to sleep in a real bed, you couldn’t stop running your hands up and down the comforter.

“Jeckle,” Natasha said, looking at the mostly empty wardrobe. “You need new clothes.”

“Ugh, yes,” you groaned from the bed.

When you were a teenager, you used to spend every weekend at the mall with your sisters and Natasha. Your wardrobe wasn’t big enough to fit all your clothes and your mother often asked you to get rid of the things you didn’t wear anymore. You never did.

Then life happened, and you didn’t have the energy or money to go shopping anymore.

You went to the kitchen to grab something to drink. Bucky’s fridge was even bigger than the one you had at work, and it was full of food in neatly labelled rows of Tupperware containers. The one in front of you was labelled ‘baby carrots’.

“Neat freak alert,” Natasha commented, peering over your shoulder into the refrigerator.

“Stop it.”

You took a bottle of water and sat at the kitchen island while Natasha continued investigating his kitchen. Bucky had several gadgets that few people had in their kitchen like a cutting board with suction cups on the bottom and nails on top to hold the food in place while slicing.

It was obvious that he liked to cook, and for some reason it made you smile. You pictured him cooking for one and your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. It was a sad mental image and you shook your head to get rid of it.

The front door opened and you lifted your head to see what Natasha was doing. She was holding Bucky’s meal plan, perusing it intensely. Bucky entered the room and greeted you with a smile before he made his way over to the fridge.

“Can I help you with anything?” he asked.

Natasha waved the meal plan in your direction mouthing ‘it’s laminated’ while Bucky retrieved a bottle of water for himself. You gestured wildly at her to put it back down.

“No, I’m good,” you replied with a slightly crazed smile. He looked between you and Natasha with a frown. “Natasha was about to leave.”

“Was I?” she replied, tilting her head.

“Yeah, you have stuff to do, remember?” You gave her a pointed stare.

“No.”

You widened your eyes at her and moved your head in the direction of the hallway that led to the front door. You tried to be discreet but you knew you weren’t fooling anyone. She watched you, unfazed.

Luckily, Bucky came to your rescue.

“Thank you for coming all the way out here, Natasha. Do you want me to call you a cab?” His tone left no room for discussion. You hid your grin behind your glass.

“That won’t be necessary,” she replied without looking at him.

You walked Natasha back to the front door and opened it. She glared at something over your shoulder and you turned to see if Bucky was there. He wasn’t.

“Wait, I forgot to tell him that if he hurts you I’ll kill him.”

You grabbed her by the shoulders when she tried to move past you. “I think he got the message. Thanks for coming with me. I’ll call you tonight.”

“You’d better,” she warned with a slow nod.

When you returned to the kitchen, it really dawned on you that you were alone with Bucky. He glanced up at you while he was going through his mail. You took your seat and nervously looked around the room. It was too quiet, you didn’t like it.

“I like your friend,” he said, grinning. “She seems very protective of you.”

“She is,” you sighed.

An uncomfortable and strangely melancholic silence hung between you. You were both afraid to say or do the wrong thing. You felt like you didn’t belong there; like a patch sewed on a worn out pair of jeans, mending holes.

“You ok?”

You looked up at him. “Yeah, I just feel a little awkward. I’m... not sure what you want me to do now.”

“Nothing,” he said, rounding the kitchen island to sit on the stool next to you. His eyebrows were pulled together in concern. “This is your home. You can do whatever you want.”

“It doesn’t really feel like my home.” You shrugged one shoulder. “It kinda feels like I just unloaded my crap in your guest room, which is exactly what happened.”

He observed you a moment. “Well, make it your home. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable here.”

“So,” you glanced at him sideways. “If I bought a few things to make this place more... homey, you wouldn’t be mad?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled up as his smile grew. “I’m begging you to make this place more homey. It’s really boring, isn’t it?” he said, looking around the kitchen with a comical frown.

You chuckled. “No, it’s not. Well, maybe a little.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” he said with a laugh.

Bucky watched you with his cheek in the palm of his hand. Your eyes were moving around the room, making mental notes of the things you wanted to add. He smiled, the sparkle was back in your eyes.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, straightening up.

He left the room for a second and came back with his hand hidden behind his back. You looked at him with a playfully suspicious frown as he approached you. You followed his movements closely, your frown deepening when he placed a little white box on the kitchen counter.

“Open it.”

You removed the lid and pulled out a set of keys, undoubtedly the keys to his apartment. The keychain was gleaming the light; a small silver angel that fit snugly in the palm of your hand.

You barely managed to croak out a thank you before you threw yourself at him, hugging him tight. His body tensed instantly and you were about to apologize when you felt his arm wrap around you.

You felt pressure build in your throat, a tingling sensation in your nose, and tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck. The last thing you wanted was for him to catch you crying over a set of keys. Though deep down it wasn’t about the keys, it was the accumulation of pent-up emotions and the realization that you were now completely free to follow your dreams.

You released him but he was still hanging on to you. Tight. His heart was beating fast against your chest. He was a lonely man craving human interaction. So you closed your eyes and rubbed your hands up and down his back –gently and out of sync. After a few long minutes, he untangled himself from you.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes. “C’mon, there’s something else I want to show you.”

“Another gift?” You sighed his name when you noted the guilty expression on his face. “It’s too much.”

“It’s a practical gift, hardly a gift at all.”

He took you upstairs to the room that was now your studio. The room hadn’t changed since your last visit, except for the easel placed in the centre. You entered slowly as if you were approaching a frightened mythological creature. You ran your fingers along the wood, your chest tight with the heft of your emotions.

You hadn’t seen one in a while, and now it was right in front of you, beckoning. “Show me how you feel,” the easel said. “Show the world what you’re made of.”

“Thank you so much,” you said, your voice soft.

“I thought it was the perfect housewarming gift for you.”

You turned to him and smiled. “It is. I already bought everything I need. Paint, knives, brushes, canvases... an easel. Sorry, I didn’t know you were going to buy me one. It’s good to have more than one though. Online shops are a bit impersonal.” You walked toward the door where he was waiting. “I miss the smell of art supply stores. It’s so intoxicating, it really gets the creative juices flowing.”

“What does it smell like?”

You closed your eyes and tried to concentrate. “It’s a mix of paint and paper, a woody pencil-sharpening smell mixed with chemicals and ash.”

“Sounds relaxing.”

“It’s heaven,” you said with a dreamy sigh.

Bucky gave you a fond smile and glanced at the keychain still in your hand. “So that’s where angels come from, uh?”

You laughed and pushed his good shoulder playfully. Ever since that fateful day when Bucky asked you out for coffee and you mistook his business date for a romantic date, you learned not to take the things he said too seriously. Bucky was a nice guy, a bit of a flirt sometimes, but his intentions were clear. He wanted a companion, not a girlfriend.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a flash, you went to your room and rearranged a few things while Bucky stayed in his office. At dinnertime you set the table while he finished cooking. You sat in front of a bowl of homemade soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.

After you had practically licked your bowl clean, Bucky leaned back in his chair and watched you with a grin. You felt a little embarrassed. You wiped your mouth with your napkin, trying to look a bit more well-mannered.

“It was really good,” you said.

“Thank you. I gotta say, I was tired of cooking for one. It’s not fun.” He put your empty bowl in his and carried them to the sink. You gathered up plates and utensils and followed him. “You’ll have to tell me what you don’t like.”

“As long as you don’t make me eat broccoli ice cream, I’m good.”

He laughed, remembering your conversation from a couple of week ago. “I don’t think I can stomach it either.” He handed you two small plates and two forks. “I bought a cake. I thought we could celebrate our first day together. Is it creepy? I can’t tell.”

“No, that’s a great idea!” you laughed. “You’re making me feel like it’s my birthday.”

You carried everything to the table while he opened the fridge and retrieved a large pink cardboard box. He balanced the box in his hand, a sharp knife sitting on top. “I’m surprised you didn’t bake it yourself,” you said, picking up the knife.

“Dessert isn’t my forte.” He opened the cardboard box, revealing a three-layer red velvet cake. “I’m too much of a perfectionist. I can make pretty decent pies but sponge cakes are hard to control when you only have one hand.”

“We can bake cakes together if you want. I’m clumsy as hell but I’m willing to learn.”

“That’d be nice,” he replied with a smile.

It was, without a doubt, the best cake you’d ever had in your life. It was incredibly light. The chocolate and vanilla burst in your mouth, mixing perfectly with the bitterness of the buttermilk.

“Red velvet is my favorite,” Bucky said, licking his fork. “Blueberry cheesecakes are good too. And Blackout cakes, umm, so good. Except fruitcakes,” he said, his mouth twisted into a downturned grimace. “Fruitcakes are the devil.”

“You’ve got quite the sweet tooth.”

“You have no idea,” he said, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

After a minute of silence, you said, “The last time I ate red velvet cake, my sister had put too much white vinegar. It was disgusting but we didn’t want to hurt her feelings so we ate all of it.”

Bucky chuckled. “How many siblings do you have?”

It was a standard get-to-know-you question and you knew he would ask it at some point. Yet, it made your guts twist in pain. It was a question you always dreaded because you didn’t have a clear answer to it. Should you leave Pietro out? He was gone but he was still your brother.

“I, uh,” you mumbled, staring down at your half-eaten slice of cake. “I’m not sure what the answer is.” He frowned at you, confused. “Do you... do you count the ones you lost?”

Understanding flashed in his eyes and he gave you a patient smile. “Yes, I do.”

You met his eyes and tried to smile, though you were pretty sure it looked more like a grimace. “I have four siblings then.” You took a forkful of cake and chewed slowly, allowing yourself a few seconds to clear your thoughts. Without success.

“I was adopted,” you revealed. His eyebrows rose in surprise but he let you continue. “We were all adopted. My mom lost her husband when she was young. They wanted to have a big family but they were too busy working. They both had very demanding jobs.”

“What did they do?”

“He was in the military, and she was the co-founder of an extra-governmental military counter-terrorism and intelligence agency.”

“That’s a mouthful,” Bucky chuckled.

“You should hear their name.” He gave you a ‘go ahead’ look. “It’s the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.”

You watched Bucky process the name, waiting for the moment realization would dawn on him. Then his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.? Your mom’s the co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D.” He stared at you, his mouth wide open. “Your mom’s Peggy Carter!? Jesus Christ,” he sighed, shaking himself out of his stupor. “When we were kids, me, Stevie and a couple of other kids pretended to be secret agents working for S.H.I.E.L.D. We even had a name: the Howling Commandos.”

You screwed your eyes shut, a smile breaking across your face. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, embarrassment colouring his face. “I dunno why I’m telling you this. Please, don’t tell your mom.”

Your laughter died down, and you continued smiling at him. He was cute when he was flustered. You smothered that thought as soon as it materialized.

“I didn’t know she had adopted five kids.”

“Yeah, I guess her job as the co-founder of one the most important secret agency gave her the freedom to adopt without having to wait.”

“Do you get along with your siblings?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I mean, kinda. Scott, my older brother, is a few years younger than you. He’s really smart but he’s a big goof. He left for San Francisco when I was a kid. My sister, Okoye, left when I was 19. She’s King T’Chaka’s bodyguard.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” you chucked. “The twins are only three years older than me. We were really close, but then Pietro,” you took a small pause, “he, um, he died and, Wanda, she couldn’t stay anymore. It was too much, y’know. She went to Sokovia -where they were born- and she never came home. Last I heard, she was backpacking through Europe.”

“You still have your mom though,” Bucky said with a warm smile.

“She’s in London,” you said, smiling even though you had to dig your nails into your palm to keep yourself from crying. “She’s in a nursing home. She was diagnosed with a form of dementia, something similar to Alzheimer. She has no idea who I am.”

You tried to speak in a normal, detached tone but your voice wavered and you fought not to cry. Bucky reached for your hand, your nails had left half-moon indentations in your palm. Wordlessly, he smoothed his thumb over your palm, inspecting the damage.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice soft.

Until now it had never occurred to you that you had never said those things out loud before. Natasha knew because she’d been with you through all of it. She was your best friend, the only person who hadn’t abandoned you yet.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d met someone new, someone you felt comfortable enough to talk to about your family.

You didn’t want to end the day on a sad note, so you pulled yourself together. You straightened up, wiped your eyes and sniffed back the tingling feeling in your nose. Bucky seemed to notice that you wanted to change the subject because he let go of your hand and picked up his fork again.

“So,” you said after clearing your throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“It’s a serious question and it’s important that you tell me the truth.”

Bucky flinched, his throat working as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I promise.”

You took a deep breath and rotated your head left and right, working the kinks out of your neck and back. Then you levelled him with a direct stare.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

Bucky recoiled as if he had misheard you. He looked momentarily startled by your question before he burst into laughter. When your face remained stoic, he realized you weren’t joking. “Oh? Umm, I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He seemed lost in thought for a second. “I like blue.”

“Which blue? Navy? Tiffany blue? Sapphire? Baby blue? Teal? Duck-egg? Turquoise?” you enumerated them quickly.

“Just...blue?” he replied carefully. You took a deep breath and released it slowly, shaking your head. “No, wait,” he added in a hurry. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration while he was trying to come up with a better answer. “The color of the sky when a storm is brewing. That��s my favorite color.”

You smirked. “Poetic.”

“Well, I’m a writer,” he replied with a lopsided grin. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Oh no, you can’t ask me that. I’m a painter, it’s like asking a parent who their favourite child is.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded, waving his hand to dismiss the question. “Let me ask you an equally important question.”

“Oh, boy,” you laughed.

The warmth of his laughter was reassuring. It made you feel at ease, calm. What you hadn’t realized yet was that you weren’t trying to change your personality to please him. You were yourself, flaws and all.

“When you read a book, how do you keep track of your reading?” he asked. “Do you use a bookmark? Receipts? Candy wrappers? Book ribbon? Do you fold the corner of the page? Do you leave the book face down or memorize the page number? I need to know.”

You didn’t have to think about it. “Dog ears.”

“Oh, God, you’re a folder.” He stared up at the ceiling and sighed heavily. “I think I got you all wrong. You’re not an angel, you’re a little demon.” He pressed his lips together in a thin line to hide a smile.

He quickly gathered up the dirty plates and carried them to the sink while you remained seated at the table, laughing. You turned in your chair and saw him fill the sink with hot water and suds. What kind of millionaire doesn’t own a dishwasher?

“I bet you also write in ‘em,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a hint of a smirk.

“No, I would never,” you said, joining him at the sink. “I like books that look old though. Cracked spines, folded corners, tea or coffee stains.”

“Please, stop I’m going to hyperventilate,” he joked.

You chuckled. “Do you a have a towel?” you asked, giving him a little tap with your hip so he would scoot sideways.

He let go of the knife he was washing and pulled out a towel from the cabinet under the sink. You were a bit in awe of the way he cleaned everything with only one hand but you didn’t want to sound condescending so you kept it to yourself.

“What’s the point of having books if they look like nobody’s ever opened them?” you said. “I want to know my books had a good life before I bought them. I want to know they were loved. Sometimes when you love something, you mess it up a little.” He rinsed a plate and handed it to you. “I bet you have one of those sentence pointer bookmarks.”

He stayed quiet for a moment and you cursed yourself, thinking you might have hurt his feelings with your little teasing. His meal plan was fucking laminated, of course he had a sentence pointer bookmark. When he spoke, you felt like you could breathe again.

“I do have a bookmark. My niece made it for me at school. It’s pink and it has a braided pink and purple ribbon. No sentence pointer.”

His rueful smile and slightly red cheeks made your chest warm. You had to remind yourself that Bucky wasn’t flirting with you. He was just being nice.

“I’m jealous,” you said. “I wish I had one.”

“That can be arranged,” he nodded, his bottom lip jutting out in a pensive pout.

You wondered what this would look like if someone were to enter the room right now. They’d see you and Bucky, standing side by side at the sink as though you were the protagonists of a Norman Rockwell painting called ‘Domestic Bliss’. You wanted more days like this one.

“Yeah?” you breathed out. “You sure?”

“Anything for you, angel.”

Part 6

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

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Damage Is Done - Little Movie Star Chapter Three (Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader)

[Actors-Masterlist], [Little Movie Star-Masterlist]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: Jensen & Danneel were ready to break the news. Surprisingly, so were you. You should have known better than that. Good feelings disappeared more sooner than later. How stupid of you to think that things were going in the right direction.

Words: 1,761

Warnings: fluff, cyber bullying, panic attack, fake social media posts (picture credits go to their rightful owners)

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

~2016~

Things were going slow. And you could tell that the tension built itself whenever you distanced yourself more again. But you were trying, you really were. Jensen & Danneel could tell. They saw you struggling when you took part in their family activities. Your body language gave you away a lot of times. Neither of them commented on it, though. Communication was improving. More often, you spoke up when something happened you did not like & Jensen & Danneel did the same for you. Sometimes, it hurt a bit, when they told you that the way you acted was not appropriate. Sometimes, you stormed off to your room to cool down, only for you to come out a bit later to apologize for your behavior. Danneel was incredibly proud of the change you had been through so far. She could tell that Jensen & you shared a stronger bond but that was one thing Bill had warned them about. Whatever family you were put in, you usually connected faster with the fathers. In her head, she was already planning a girls day with you. Shopping & all that. Maybe that would help your bonding process.

You were eating breakfast when Jensen started a conversation that left you…unsure.

“So, we were thinking about breaking the news to the world. What do you say?” he eyed you carefully, waiting for some sort of reaction. You stopped eating for a second & looked down at your plate.

“For publicity?” the words were quiet but they could hear you crystal clear.

“Do you really think we need publicity?” Danneel joked & you were lucky that she eased the tension. Even a chuckle escaped you & finally, you looked up at them.

“What are you guys thinking? How do you wanna do this?” you asked, now starting to like the idea of them wanting you to be an official part of their family. It was fast but you thought if the world knew you were a part of the Ackles, then you might have an easier time accepting it yourself. They explained that they planned a simple Instagram post. Nothing more, nothing less. A picture with the six of you. The thought scared you but you agreed anyway which earned you two big smiles.

“Hey, Jensen?” walking over to where he was sitting, he turned his attention to you. “Could you help me with something, please?” you felt stupid to ask for help, especially because of something like that but you knew he had more experience than you.

“Sure thing. What is it?” he looked intrigued & then confused when you handed him your phone after sitting down next to him.

“Um… I don’t have any social media accounts but I’d like to get them started? I thought you might know what’s fitting & what isn’t.” Jensen seemed more than happy to help you out. It did not happen every day that you came & asked him something. So when you did, he appreciated it.

The two of you played around for a while. Jensen explained the basics. Even though you had to admit that he was not the pro you believed him to be. It was alright & in the end, you had a twitter & an Instagram account (@iam(Y/N)ackles). At first, you were against the handle. After all, your last name was not Ackles. But Jensen insisted that it was right for you to have these account names. He helped you setting everything up & you started following people you liked, starting with Jensen & Danneel, obviously. Followed by the rest of the Supernatural cast.

At the end of the day, after you took the picture Jensen & Danneel wanted to post, you were very nervous. The picture turned out to be incredibly cute. You were holding Zep in your arms, Arrow had been held by Danneel & JJ was sitting on Jensen’s lap. Immediately, you set this picture as your phone wallpaper, smiling wildly when you did so. All of a sudden, your phone was flooded with notifications. Both, on twitter & Instagram. Annoyed by the dinging sound, you turned them off completely. Jensen & Danneel tagged you in their posts & you were gaining hundred, thousands of followers in a very short time.

“(Y/N)? We posted the pic, just so you know.” but by the way you were looking at your phone, Jensen could tell you already knew this. He told you that it was probably better if you turned off the notifications but you brushed him off, saying you already did.

“Have you looked at it yet?” curiosity was written over his features. Shaking your head as an answer, he nudged you & told you to go on. Taking a deep breath, you opened Instagram & immediately were met with the picture on your timeline. The picture put a smile on your face again. You guys really looked cute. Like a cute little family. Then you went to read the caption.

Scrolling down, you saw Danneel’s post with the same caption & tears threatened to spill. You had not cried in front of other people in so long but right now, you could not hold back anymore. Gratitude was rushing over you & before you knew what was happening, Jensen wrapped his arms around you & pulled you into a hug. This time, you did not reject him, needing the comfort of another person. It felt good to be hugged, you had almost forgotten how much you actually loved it

“Thank you.” you mumbled into his chest. Jensen simply stroked his hands up & down your back. He could tell that this was a huge step. You were hugging, after all, & he was more than thankful to share this special moment with you. When you heard Danneel entering the room, you rushed over to her & gave her a hug, too. You could feel that your body was not reacting the same way when you were wrapping your arms around Jensen but it felt good nevertheless.

The rest of the day, conversation flowed easier. Dinner was filled with laughter & you guys chatted a lot. This act, of them posting you on their social media, showed you that they were not going away anytime soon. They were in for the long haul. Still, there was this awful voice in your head but tonight, it sounded a bit further in the distance, a bit more quiet than usual. That night, you decided to do a movie marathon. You had done them before but this one felt…different. It felt easier. You found yourself enjoying their company more & for a second, you had hope. Hope in the future. Hope in your new…family. Would you ever feel comfortable calling them your family? Maybe, if you kept going forward at this pace, then maybe you would.

Laying in bed, you wanted to check out the posts one more time. By now, you had thousands of followers even though you had zero posts on your account. Maybe you should repost the picture? Yeah, you could do that. Your thoughts were interrupted when you made the big mistake of going through the comment section under Jensen’s picture. Yes, there were a lot of positive responses, especially from his castmates, but when you kept scrolling, you found one hate comment after the other. They were awful to read through.

“really? she’s ugly as hell lmao”

“why would they choose her?”

“probably thinking she’s better than everyone lol”

“she should go back where she came from”

“wtf??? leave our ackles alone, bitch”

Tears were streaming down your face, this time because you were genuinely hurt by their words. One mistake followed the other & you were scrolling through your message requests. One was worse than the other. There were literal death threats people were sending you & you did not understand a thing. Nobody knew you & yet they were already building an opinion about you. Angry at yourself for reading through them & angry that you agreed on making a post for Instagram, you turned your phone off & threw it at the end of the bed. All good feelings had disappeared. Maybe they were right. You knew you were not pretty. You had asked yourself a billion times why they chose you out of everyone. You were sure they would send you back once they read through the comments. No matter how hard you tried to calm down, you could not catch your breath & started hyperventilating. Shit, you were about to have a panic attack. You had suffered from them ever since you were little but the last one had been ages ago. Usually, you would run to Bill & he would talk you through it. But he was hours away & he would most likely be asleep by now. Contemplating if you should go to Jensen & Danneel, you decided against it after the comments were repeating themselves in your head. So you just let the panic overcome you. It was better to let it out than to push it down further, you knew that. But having to go through such a period alone was everything but easy. Telling yourself you were fine & safe over & over again exhausted the shit out of you. It felt like hours but when you were finally at a point where your breaths evened out & your heartrate slowed down, you fell asleep almost immediately. Tomorrow, you had to talk to them, you knew it. Maybe they would be aware of the comments by then & would start the conversation. How were you supposed to start such a conversation anyway? Hi, your fans hate me & send me death threats. Come on, that sounded stupid. But the thing was that it did not feel stupid to you. Their words hurt you & Jensen & Danneel told you to come to them & be open with them if something bothered you. There was enough time for that in the morning, though. For now, sleep seemed like the best option & the best distraction. You just hoped that your dreams would be kinder to you than your family’s “fans”.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter

Published (04/03/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @vicmc624, @imaginationisgrowth, @stoneyggirl, @alyispunk, @thevelvetseries, @multifandomlover121, @samsgirl93, @supernatural3002, @diabetes-03, @prettyybubblesintheair, @originalsoulcollector, @vir-tual, @bellero, @sergantbuckybarnes (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

#Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x daughter!reader #daughter reader #daughter!reader #reader insert #reader imagine #danneel ackles #fanfic #fanfiction #SPNFamily #father figure #mother figure #imagine #writing #Little Movie Star Chapter Three #panic #bullying #fluff

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under-sedationnn · 3 years

Text

eleventh: divine museum (pt. 4): "cold metal and tepid tea"

@impinehoney said to under-sedationnn: may i have a request for the eleventh doctor? maybe an adventure that leads them to an art museum, but like some more divine type because it’s on a different planet or something?? ahH THANK YOU

Word count: 2280

part 1

part 2

part 3

tag list: @gayandfairycore

if you would like to be added to the taglist, just comment on this post (or any of the other parts), send me a message or submit an ask! that way you will be notified whenever a new part is posted :) thanks and happy reading!! <3

Invisible, frigid hands seemed to pull us toward the ever growing light, leaving paint stains smeared across our bodies. It grabbed at us blindly, though the grasp was light, not as suffocating as it was before. My nose and mouth did not seem to fill with paint, though it had captured every inch of my body.

Falling through the frame of the painting, I turned to the side and saw the Doctor collapsed on the floor, smiling broadly. “Woo hoo! What a rush!” He put his arms in the air above him, and acted as though he had just gotten off of a ride.

Although I enjoyed his enthusiasm, I did not share his joy for the feeling. “Not in a good way, though,” I countered, placing a hand on my forehead, “it makes my head feel all strange.”

“Ah it’s just because you haven’t eaten dinner!” He jumped up, pulling me up with him. I teetered slightly, his arm catching me around my waist. “Yeah, sorry about that. We’ll stop somewhere nice to eat after all of this is over.”

Placing a hand on his chest, I laughed, “We are covered in paint. Honestly, if we could just have breakfast for dinner in the TARDIS after all of this, it would be lovely.”

“Just the two of us?” His eyes seemed to light up at the thought of such a small, intimate meal with me. I shared the feeling, my face heating slightly.

“As long as that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” he began, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the sides of my waist. A gesture he didn’t seem to notice, but made my heart race. “Eating with you, just you, sounds wonderful. Quiet.”

A smile creeping onto my face, I responded, “I hope it’ll be quiet, I need a peaceful night after this.”

“Mm, yes,” he said, as I wound out of his embrace. Clearing his throat, he said, “Well, at least we know how to escape the paintings now!”

“We do?” I asked.

Gazing around the room again, to find our next painting, he responded, “Yes! They admitted whatever truth they had been keeping from one another, that’s the trick! The question is, what are they hiding?”

I followed his eye, and found the painting of the mother and child we had found earlier. The mother looked pained, worried; and the infant was screaming out, clawing to get away from the woman.

I huffed out a small sigh, worried of what we would find upon entering the painting. The Doctor gave me a comforting look.

“Y/n, what’s the matter?”

“We just- When we go into these paintings and we have the people within them admit their darkest secrets, it feels… invasive.” I rubbed at my arms, chasing away a quiet chill, a creep down my spine.

“I know it feels wrong, but we are helping these people. It’s never good to keep secrets in, ever.”

Although I knew he meant those words, he seemed hesitant. His eyes a little sad, far away and deep in thought. He had lived such a long life, there were bound to be things that he hadn’t shared with me, or didn’t want to.

I asked without thinking. “Are you keeping any secrets from me, Doctor?”

He shot a look at me, his eyes going wide. Restoring a neutral expression, he simply answered, “Of course, not. There are things you don’t know about me, yet, but I have never kept anything hidden from you.”

Once again, doubt in his voice. Rule number one, the Doctor lies. He’s a terrible liar.

Stepping closer to the painting of the mother and child, he busied himself. “Are you keeping anything from me, Y/n?”

I too busied myself with observing the painting, not wanting to answer the question. “No.”

A lie.

“Good, good!” He smiled at me, though a little pained. “Well, should we go then?”

“Yeah,” was all I managed.

Our arms became increasingly enveloped in the sticky paint on the canvas, the fumes from the substance overpowering. I held down a gag, and silently thanked myself for not making time for a meal. Before I was completely within the painting, I noticed a flash of orange on the wall behind the Doctor.

The painting held bright tangerines and low hues of pumpkin. Lights flashed within the scene, and a central cylindrical mount was the focus of the setting. The console room.

The paint consumed us.

-----

A townhouse on a rainy night appeared ahead of us. The wind howled, making a river flow down the cobblestone street, icy water lapping at our ankles. Rain dribbled down our clothes, seeped in deep, and stained the water running away from us. Though, the hues were not bright blotches of green and blue and pink like the ribbons and flowers of the sunny wedding venue.

Bold gray, dull chartreuse and bright splotches of yellow instead covered our clothes. Yellow came from the single street lamp, illuminating the green copper roof and the stoop of the townhouse, where the woman and the wailing infant sat.

Despite the weather, the two sat completely still. She seemed to be rocking the baby back and forth, but to no avail. Although the two were motionless, the sound of the child echoed through the street. The longer we stood there, the screams only became louder, cutting straight through the sound of the wind and rain.

Rushing forward, the Doctor and I ducked through the rain and approached the woman, the screams of the baby growing louder and louder as we approached.

“We need to create a shock, right? To get her to talk?” I asked.

He gave me a nod. Against all my better judgement, I launched myself toward the woman, wrapped my arms tightly around the bundle, and tugged. The unnamed woman met us with wide, grief stricken eyes. Her neck snap crack snap-ped into motion, as though I had just awoken a statue, and her arms actively tightened around the baby. Her center curved back, crack crack crack, and her knees raised to her chin, cradling the baby. The mouth of the infant began to sync with the sound of its shrieks.

“No! Please don’t take her! Please!” she pleaded, shielding the child from us in an attempt to create distance. Tears rolled down her tan face, the light of the street paling her skin and giving her a particularly ghastly appearance.

“We’re not, we’re not!” I yelled, raising my hands in surrender, “We just want to help you.”

She sat silently, her arms wrapped tightly around the screaming bundle in her arms, scrutinizing our appearances.

“You’re lying.”

“We are absolutely telling you the truth,” said the Doctor, “but you’re not.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Doctor,” I warned.

He turned back to me, whispering, “She must be hiding something, and the fact that it has something to do with this child has me worried. Please, let me handle this.”

Reluctantly, I nodded my head, hoping that he would be patient with her.

“You’re lying,” he started, “about something. That’s why you’re here.”

“What do you mean I’m lying?” She yelled, and the baby only grew louder at the volume of her voice.

“Where are we right now?” I asked, attempting to defuse the situation slightly.

She squinted against the rain, looking around towards the door of the townhouse.

“This is my boss’ house! Although, I thought…”

“You were at a museum, right?” I asked, hoping to jog her memory.

“Yes!” She shouted over the storm, “I had taken Melanie out for a day trip.”

“Are you her mother?” The Doctor asked, and the woman shook her head no.

“I’m her babysitter!”

I gave the Doctor a knowing look. “What’s your name?”

“Cassandra.” She attempted to calm the baby once again, but the infant had begun to unravel its swaddle, the blankets falling onto Cassandra’s lap.

“Cassandra, I’m the Doctor and this is Y/n. You’re still at the museum to took Melanie to and you’re trapped in a painting.” Cassandra gaped at the two of us, but the Doctor trudged on. “Did you tell anybody that you were Melanie’s mother? Or even one of her family members?”

I watched as Cassandra’s face melted into realisation. “I- I did,” she admitted, “when we arrived, someone in line told me that she was a beautiful child and asked if she was mine. I said yes without thinking, but not for any malicious reason.”

Instantly, the two of them began melting into dull hues of paint, splashing down the stone steps of the building and washing down the street.

“Doctor, she wasn’t even really lying!” He stood silent, thinking. “If these ‘gods’ are trapping these people for lies, or untold truths, that means they could be trapping them for small things as well. Lies that don't even matter or lies that were mistakes!”

“For the gods of Tyoonibe, truth is incredibly black and white. There is no gray area where some lies are acceptable to tell.” He pushed his hair out of his face, soaked by the rain at this point.

“So what, we can’t stop them from doing this to people?”

“No, not unless we completely rewrite the ways in which this culture works which would be, frankly, unjustified and rude. It is not our place.”

“What can we do?” I asked, desperate to help. I crossed my arms around myself, trying desperately to trap my own body heat.

“We can help the people who are imprisoned right now, get them out, and try not to get trapped in a painting of our own.”

I thought back to the painting of the console room and shuddered. What is he hiding?

“Y/n, come along!” He motioned to the door at the top of the steps, the entrance now choked with darkness, the edges lined with ripped canvas.

Stepping through, we moved through the paint with more ease this time. The fumes still overwhelmed my senses, but in my control, I found the Doctor’s hand and grabbed on tight. We fell to the floor of the museum once again, and I shot up quickly, my eyes meeting the painting of the console room.

It was still there, unmoving, lifeless. Though, an invisible rope seemed to yank me in its direction.

I should tell him. “Doctor, there’s uh- there’s a pai-”

I was cut short by a pounding in the hallway. We ran to the double doors and ripped them open, finding Sybil nearly throwing her body against the entrance to the museum. Her grunts echoed off of the round, marble walls and high ceiling.

“Sybil, darling, please do be careful!” shrieked Villiam.

Rounding on him, Sybil barked, “I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANOTHER WORD FROM YOU, CHEATER!” Her round, red cheeks jiggled with each word, and Villiam nearly sank to the floor. From embarrassment or fear, I couldn’t be sure. They were no longer in their wedding attire, their clothes now appropriate for the anniversary they had attempted to celebrate.

Cassandra stood nearby with Melanie, the baby finally quiet and asleep. She looked up from the bundle, realizing we had entered the room amidst the chaos.

“Doctor, Y/n! You made it out too!”

“We’ve been able to freely move to whichever painting we pleased,” said the Doctor, “did you all end up here after you were freed?”

“No,” began Sybil, who spun around to face us. She spoke between deep, unsteady breaths, exhausted from her attempts to escape. “We ended up in the truth room and now we are trying to leave.”

Placing his hand on his chin and pacing around the room, the Doctor searched for what we could have missed. “We already freed everybody here, we’ve all admitted our truths, what am I missing? What am I missing?”

Growing frustrated, he let out a low grunt and slid down one of the marble walls. I stood away, looking at him expectantly. Though, I knew what the next step was. I knew why we couldn’t leave. I have to tell him, I have to tell him, I have to tell him.

“What?” he snapped, recognizing my stare. I winced at his tone, and his eyes softened. “Y/n, what?”

“Um,” I began, walking towards him slowly, “we have a painting.”

“We do?”

I shook my head slowly, and offered him my hand. Walking from the entrance hall and through the doors of limbo, I led him to the bright, frame canvas.

“It’s the TARDIS,” he said, “it has to be ours.”

“What are you hiding, Doctor?” I smiled at him slightly, asking in an almost playful way.

He returned the smile, though his voice was grave, “I should be asking you the same thing.”

With a squeeze of my hand and a deep breath in, we placed our hands on the rough canvas. The smell of paint overtook my senses once again, the slick, cold feel of it against my skin. Though this time, I could hear the hum of the TARDIS thrumming like a heartbeat, the smell of cold metal and tepid tea, long forgotten by the Doctor.

Stepping through the door of the TARDIS, the Doctor and I were no longer covered in paint, and our clothes had returned to a normal state.

He had his bowtie, suspenders, and leather shoes. I had my jeans, my sneakers, my favorite top. At least we would be comfortable for whatever was about to ensue.

“So,” hopping up to sit on the center console of the TARDIS, the Doctor watched me lovingly, amused, the orange glow of the room hitting the sharp angles of his face, “where do you want to start, Doctor?”

TO BE CONTINUED.

#eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor imagine #eleventh doctor #the doctor #doctor who imagine #doctor who #the doctor imagine

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mmilkbreadd · 3 years

Text

Chapter twenty five: “The End”

Masterpost - Prev.

Warning(s): a bit of swearing ; post-timeskip manga spoilers!!

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Or aka, ‘The Sakusa Kiyoomi Theory’

Act One: “Who is Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

Saturday, 6:23 am, “y/n's home”

“You're late,” said y/n with crossed arms, she was already waiting for him at the door of her house. “I hope this doesn't become routine.”

It was already morning in the streets of Paris. Tendou Satori and her neighbor (and best friend), y/n l/n, were walking towards their famous bakery and chocolate shop, ‘Sweet Strawberries.’ It was a small place with a few tables to sit for tea and delicious things to eat. Also, although it was small, it was quite crowded.

“Woah, how angry you are today, little baker... More than usual, actually” y/n shook her head at her friend's comment. “But obviously I already know why, and it seems that you know why too.”

Y/n decided to ignore what Satori had said, and keep walking quite ahead of him. It was still an hour before the store opened, but they already had several orders that were due to deliver around nine in the morning. A three-tier wedding cake, forty heart-shaped chocolates for the anniversary of a married couple, and of course, the strawberry cake for someone named Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Around a quarter to seven, they arrived at the bakery, and they got down to work to get all the orders completed on time.

Tendou was more dedicated to the chocolate part, of course, and to serve customers. Despite y/n had advanced a lot in terms of her social skills, she still needed to learn a little about how to communicate normally with a person.

“That 'Sakusa Kiyoomi' has a Japanese name, do you think he is too?” y/n asked, wiping flour from her hands.

“I don't know, they could be. But doesn't that name sound too familiar to you?” Satori replied.

“That's exactly what I was thinking!”

“Weird.”

“Yeah... Anyway, the customer asked not to make the chocolate so bitter so add more milk to that please.”

“Yes, boss!” Satori made a military signal and continued his work.

Act Two: “Pretending to be Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

8:39 am, “Paris” (?)

Bokuto Koutarou, along with Miya Atsumu and Hinata Shoyo were lost in Paris. They had circled the Eiffel Tower at least five times. But it seemed they hadn't realized it yet.

They were more lost than Bokuto studying math. But a simple city would not defeat them so easily... would it?

“Maybe we should have brought Sakusa,” Hinata said after round number six.

“And hear him complain about how dirty everything is? No thanks,” Atsumu Miya replied, shaking his head. “We don't need Omi-Omi. I, Miya Atsumu, am enough to know where we are.”

Atsumu put a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. Bokuto and Hinata looked around, ignoring the enormous tower behind them, wondering where they were.

“And where are we then?”

“Paris, of course” he replied. “I can’t believe you’re seriously asking that, Shoyo.”

Hinata and Bokuto looked at each other, unable to believe what their teammate was saying.

“Sure…” Bokuto said, getting his phone out of his pocket. It was time to be the serious person of the trio. “Akaashi, we got lost” and that time was now over. Koutarou was crying as he spoke to his friend, who was on another continent. “No, I can't stop crying, Akaashi. I swear I was following the steps you wrote on the map so we wouldn't get lost, but Atsumu wanted to take the lead, so he broke the instructions, and we don’t know where we are. It's all his fault...! No, Sakusa has not come either.”

“Hey! It wasn't my fault,” the dyed blonde complained, crossing his arms. “And we never needed Omi-Omi!”

“Okay, Akaashi, I'll do it. Bye, love you… As a bro of course” Bokuto finished saying and hung up. “He told me I have to call Tendou. Is the only way.”

Hinata started shaking his head from side to side, while Atsumu slapped his forehead with his hand. Then a message came from Keiji; It was the number of Tendou Satori himself. Bokuto started dialing the numbers that appeared on the screen of his phone, on Hinata's.

“Wait wait, shouldn't I speak? He might recognize your voice” Hinata said, awkwardly taking the phone from Bokuto's hands.

“He would also recognize yours, Shoyo. I'll do it.” Atsumu snatched the device from him and pressed the call button. “Hello, sir, what’s up? I'm Sakusa Kiyoomi, could you help me get to your store? I'm a bit lost... How did I get your number you ask? Eh– It's on your website dude! You should delete it, some people pretend to be someone else and you should not fall for that...”

Act Three: “If Sakusa Kiyoomi was real, we should have brought him.”

10:04 am, “Sweet Strawberries Bakery and Chocolate Shop”

“I can't believe it took us almost two hours to get here! It wasn't even that far from the hotel” Hinata said looking towards the building that was a few meters in front of them.

“Six blocks. Can’t believe it either.” Atsumu wiped the sweat from his brow. “And now that? Are we going in or not?”

Bokuto went pale. He was going to see you, after so many years without communicating or having exchanged glances. He never imagined that he would see you again after that cold day in Miyagi. He had made a thousand scenarios in his head of how you two meet again: in some distant future you visit your hometown and he visits Hinata, and thus you meet in the park or on the street. You would have your own family, and he would have his. But that would happen in many years, not now. Not at this moment, when neither of you had grown enough... When he hadn't managed to forget you yet. But these weren't Koutarou's inventions, this was reality.

The incredible and stupid reality.

“I don't want to go in,” Bokuto said suddenly and stopped walking. “I’m not ready.”

Atsumu, who was already one step away from the door, turned to see him. Hinata collided with Miya's chest because he was walking right behind him.

“What are you talking about? Let's go in now” Atsumu said walking towards the ex-owl. “We didn't change the whole tour just so you don't go see your little girlfriend… We change it so you do! Don't be scared, do it now or you'll regret it for life. I remember how you talked about her during practice, and I even want to meet her after that! Come on dude, use the little braveness you have left.”

It seemed that Atsumu's words, or Hinata's smile next to him, made Bokuto take courage and head towards the entrance of the shop.

A bell rang before three pairs of feet echoed through the small place. There was a great smell of chocolate that invaded every inch of the establishment. Hinata paced around the place until the sound of a door opening made the three teammates turn their heads to where the sound was coming from.

“Welcome, what can I offer-- So all of you are Sakusa Kiyoomi, huh?” Satori Tendou said, coming out of the back-room. “You see guys, I never believed this would happen. It makes me think a lot too… So, is Sakusa Kiyoomi even real?”

Atsumu, Hinata, and Bokuto were paralyzed in place for several seconds. The former Shiratorizawa monster stood with his hands on his hips, staring at them.

“Is it Sakusa Kiyoomi? Tell him I'm coming in a minute!” y/n yelled from the back room.

“Oh no, y/n, it’s someone much better!” Tendou replied, holding back his laughter. “You won't believe it even if you see this!”

Then, silence took over the place until a few quick steps interrupted it. A figure appeared through the door, with several boxes in their hands. A pile of boxes so big it covered their face.

“Help me, Satori, I'm going to fall” y/n complained, and after Tendou took out the boxes that covered her view, she saw her friend smiling widely. “What?”

Satori, who couldn't contain his laughter anymore, gestured with his head towards the three statues in the middle of the place. And finally, seeing her friend's face, he started to laugh out loud.

“Kou?”

“A-and Hinata!” shouted Bokuto nervously. Shoyo looked at him and then pointed at Atsumu.

“And also Atsumu!”

“And Saku– shit, we should have brought Omi-Omi after all…”

───∘°❉°∘───

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Note: I am very very very very sorry for not posting this sooner, but I had thousand of things going on in my life. Now I’m better and ready to finish this beautiful, and crazy, love-story.

I hope you loved it as much as I did. I truly enjoyed it writing, and I’m happy to finish it too.

I’ll appreciate it a lot if you comment down below what you thought about the series. I’ll read you later -Tina.

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Tags in reblog!

Thanks for reading🥰

#bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto smau #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smau #atsumu #sakusa #hinata

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birthdaysentiment · 3 years

Photo

hiii everyone! even though i haven’t been here for that long, i still wanted to make one of these as well. because even though i always scream and write long essays in the tags, i just wanted to tell you how thankful i am for every single one of you amazing and wonderful people. you all deserve so much love! ✨

last year for me was just crazy, weird, confusing and just... different, but i knew i could always come to this place as an escape for what was happening around me, and soon this became a place where i found so much more than what i could have hoped for. back in the beginning of april i decided to make this tumblr and i'm so happy i did, because i honestly don’t know what i would have done without tumblr, wtfock (and sobbe), this fandom and just every single one of you! you have all giving me so much joy and happiness, you are some of my biggest inspirations, and you always make me feel so loved and appreciated, that i just can’t help but smile just thinking about it. i’ll never be able to thank every single one of you for all of it, but i hope this long sappy post will somehow. i want to thank every single one for everything you’ve blessed us with last year. without all of your edits, gifs, fics, memes, posts, reblogs, likes, comments, asks and so much more, this place wouldn’t be the same and i'm so happy to be a part of this fandom ✨

even though last year was what it was, i still hope it was able to give you some happiness in whatever way it was, because you all deserve only the best. i will definitely remember last year for being the year where i met some of the most amazing people in my life, where i got the chance to scream, cry, laugh and clown with everyone of you that share the same love for a belgian tv-show as i do. i hope this year will give you all the love, happiness, positivity and success that you deserve, because you’re all so amazing and i'm so happy and proud to call you my mutuals! ✨

this is so sappy i know, but once again thank you for everything and i can’t wait to experience this year with all of you! i am so thankful for everyone, and i love you all very much. thank you for being you! (also, there’s a way too long ramble under the cut, because why not) ✨

@mijnlief eline, love! i don’t even know where to start, and even though i properly wrote you a hundred messages yesterday, it still isn’t enough to tell you how much you mean to me. meeting you was the best thing that happened to me in 2020, and it honestly wouldn’t have been the same without you. our endless skypecalls is the highlight of my week and you just always know what to say or do to make me smile and feel happy, whether it’s with your gifs, fics, drabbels, messages or just your amazing personality. i know this year is gonna be amazing for the both of us and i can’t wait to experience it all with you. but the thing i look forward to the most is to give you the biggest hug ever! you’re so important to me, and i love you so much! ✨

@onzeziggy laurien! in such a short amount of time you’ve become such an amazing friend to me, and i’m so thankful for haven gotten the chance to know you. i can’t believe we only started talking like a month ago, because it feels like i've known you for much longer. thank you for always blessing my day with your attacks whether it’s your posts, edits, tags or messages, you just know what’s important in love and life and i’m so grateful for that. i can’t wait to scream with you when we get some new content and just talk with you some more. i love you lots! ✨

@annonymannonym alice! you’re one of the sweetest and kindest human beings on this site and i’m so thankful for having gotten the chance to get to know you this year. thank you for always attacking me with your beautiful edits and gifs, you know i much i love them, and for always sending me the best meme pictures in our conversation, you really are a blessing and you’re so important to me and i love you lots! ✨

@indimlights rodrigo! you’re the sweetest person ever and i can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me the last year, whether it was writing the sweetest tags, the loveliest messages or giving me the best christmas present ever, that i'll never be able to thank you enough for. you’re so incredible sweet to everyone and please keep that going, because you make so many people smile. i love you lots!✨

@franboos fran! you have the ability to always brighten up my day! you’re full of so much life, laughter and joy and i love you for the person that you are! please keep the typos, your edited pictures and the music suggestion coming, because i’m living for them! i love you lots queen! ✨

@hopelessromanticvirgo elene! you have no idea how much all your stories mean to me, whether it’s your fics or so/me au’s that i’m so in love with. i always look forward to the next day because i know you’ll be there to bless me with your amazing talent. i love you lots bb and thank you for being the sweetest and kindest person ever! ✨

@driesenrobbe @zoesrobbe @welcometo-saturn @dreamaur @earthling-isa @theflowerisblue @fatouuuu @dagcutie @nyttvera @tsjernobyl @mirroroferisedx @to-enter-polaris @alinok @sanderxrobbee @veerledejaegers @sander-klaas

thank you so much for blessing me with the most beautiful and creative gifs i've ever seen. honestly, i always get so amazed every time i see one of your creations and i take myself starring at them for so long because i just admire everything that you do. thank you for creating such amazing content, this fandom wouldn’t be the same without all of you. i appreciate everything every single one of you do and i love you all lots! one day i hope i'll be able to make something as pretty as all of you do, and thank you for being such a big inspiration! ✨

@robbesdriesen @ayellowcurtain @peaceoutofthepieces @jensrolt @misunderstoododdity @sonderthroughthestreets @fockinglevendcliche @itubainaretro @honeyandsinn @thenerd10 @phascinationphases @universe-n-3276 @sobbefairytales

thank you to every single one of you for writing the most amazing fics, one-shots, multi-chaptered fics, drabbels, head canons and so much more, because it’s all such a blessing. you’ve all inspired me to wanting to write some more myself, and i honestly feel like i've learned so much more about robbe and sander by reading all of your beautiful stories. thank you for taking the time to bless everyone with it, whether it’s here on tumblr or on ao3. this place wouldn’t be the same without you and thank you for making the time during season 4 and the hiatus so much easier, i don’t know what i would have done without you! i love you all lots! ✨

@gucciboner @pamouche @hidden-joy @happilyinsane @stardustcontrol @mrijzermans @gele-gordijnen @allee-sander @jenschilt @skam-wtfock-sobbe @wtfockaesthetic @driesendotkom @remy3010 @hopetofantasy @lieverobbe and everyone else (i'm so sorry if i forgot anyone, it’s the last thing i want, because i love and appreciate you all very much, thank you for making this fandom what it is)

a special thanks to all of you for always being so supportive of everyone, for reacting such lovely content and for just being a part of this fandom, for keeping it alive and for just blessing my day whenever i see you icon and name on my dash or in the tag. thank you for being who you are and i love you all lots! ✨

some of you are in more than one of these categories, and i appreciate you all for everything you’re blessing us and me with. i hope i get the chance to talk with even more of you this year! i love you all and happy new year to everyone! ✨

#why do i always write such long essays?#i am sorry for this long and sappy mess #but you all deserve only the very best in this world #i hope this year will be so amazing for all of you #i'm wishing you all the most wonderful day #cille loves everybody ✨

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threecrowsinatrenchcoat · 3 years

Text

Paint My Spirit Gold

Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow

Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 2187

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]

A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence.

“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.

“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”

Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.

“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”

Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.

The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.

“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”

[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]

“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”

The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick

“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”

Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos.

“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.”

And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him.

“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”

Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment.

He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table. He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop.

'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock.

[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]

Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really.

He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in.

“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”

Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?

“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”

[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:

“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit.

Starstruck96: who?

IneffableSnek: lmao

FeralBeauYasha: lol

VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill.

FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?

IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf

FeralBeauYasha: ohh

VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom.

StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch

IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean

IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s

FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too

VampSuga: DUKECEIT” /end ID]

"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin.

"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."

Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”

Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left.

“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”

Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.

“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.

“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”

[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]

DukeceitStan

first and only dukeceit shipper ig

DukeceitStan

wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!

DukeceitStan

i want this to be canon so bad omg

DukeceitStan

i mean just look

[image]

how

[image]

cute

[image]

[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.

The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left.

The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand.

The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]

“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”

“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”

“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”

“You should try harder.”

“Come to bed and maybe I will.”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”

“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”

“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID]

#dukeceit #dukeceitweek #remus sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides fic #kye writes

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suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

Over And Out (l.h)

End Up Here - Part 4

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x 5sos! Fem! Reader

Summary: A tour. A secret relationship. And rumors only grow...

Warnings: Angst, mild smut. Mentions of harassment, sexual harassment, sexual abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, creepy men, jealousy, alcohol, cheating, fighting, sexism, and many frustrations. Language and some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 10k

Author’s Note: this is the most frustrating thing I’ve ever written, I believe. Next part will be up on March 14th. Remember that Reblogs, Fedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help me ❤️ Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My Materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Series Materialist || part 1 || part 2 || part 3

Liked by michaelclifford, 5sosfan4eva and 1,573 others

lukehemmings and away and away we go ✈️

View all 347 comments

5sosfan4eva THEY ARE TOTALLY DATING

↪️ calumlovesash I hope they’re not 🤢 she was much better with Madden or Josh. At least they’re famous

yn5sos I’m changing seats with Michael

↪️ lukehemmings @yn5sos 🥺

@5sos EUROPE ARE YOU READY?!

“I can’t believe we’re already here!” Y/N cheered as they got to the hotel.

It’s been a month on the road already and they finally had a few days to rest before traveling to yet another destination. They had the idea of doing a tour to promote not only their new singles and tease the album release that’s bound to happen next year, and it ended up being one of the most incredible ideas they had after spending almost a year without doing shows.

They started with a small tour in Europe, then they will move on back home in Australia for a couple of shows, and then the big finale in the United States where most of their shows were already sold out. By that time, the fans would’ve already listened to the new songs and be even more hyped for the new album.

Luke was the newbie on tour, this not being the first time he traveled away from home, but the first time he did it with people he cared about. He was having the time of his life with Y/N, the boys, and their s.o. It all felt like a dream. He was actually living the life of a rockstar on his summer break, even if most of the things they did they had to keep it a secret.

When Y/N invited Luke on tour there was no way he would’ve said no to her - not just because he pretty much can’t say no to her, but that’s another story.

She said she wanted to take it slow and that was exactly what they were doing. They didn’t put a label on whatever they had going on, but rather they enjoyed the moment stealing kisses and nights whenever they could.

They would sneak out into each other's rooms late at night, longing to be closer. They would spend hours upon hours tangled in the sheets, loving each other and sharing whatever was on their minds at the time. Making those moments their own amid their borrowed time between destinations. A moment for the two of them.

Luke found it weird at the beginning; hiding their relationship from the world until it became official. But these last few months he could see a change in Y/N, she seemed happier, more open to talking about her feelings and her past. He understood that this was important to her, to live a normal life until she feels ready to share it.

If time is what she needed, time is what she’ll get.

The boys and their girlfriends were all supportive. They too understood the importance of keeping some things private as well as the changes in Y/N’s behavior. They were all happy to see their friend back, just in time for tour.

But it was almost impossible to control what was put in the media. The fans already know who Luke is and that he spends a lot of time with the members of their favorite band. They speculate about his relationship with Y/N, creating rumors that even though he wants to, he can’t confirm nor deny. And when it came to the media outlets, those were much, much worse.

They didn’t say much about him “The privilege of being normal” Said Calum once. But they did have a lot to say about Y/N…

“Y/N L/N is back at it again with a new man?!”

“No tears this time? Y/N L/N Caught smiling and getting cuddly with a member of her team! Can she mix work and pleasure?”

“Serial heartthrob Y/N L/N seen with other men while still refusing to talk about her most recent break-up? Sounds fishy to me!”

“What was she thinking?! Y/N L/N was spotted in an outing with his “new friend” wearing very thin shorts and a crop top. Not so family-friendly apparently”

Horrible things were written about her every day but she ignored them as if they didn’t exist. Luke wished he could do the same.

Every little article, tweet, or comment about Y/N made his blood boil. It was clear that they were completely made up to be some “big news” when the reality was far from that and they kept disrespecting them and their relationship even if it was still on the down-low.

But Luke could not stop reading them. It was addictive how he couldn’t resist clicking on her name every time it popped out, not because of some morbid reasoning behind it, but because those articles seemed to know more about Y/N than Luke himself. People kept talking about a past he didn’t know she had. Were those made up as well? Or are they based on reality? Would he be able to know the difference?

Truth was, he couldn’t. He loves Y/N blindly, he got to know her in one of the most genuine ways but it feels like that is not enough. It’s almost like she is living a secret life he doesn’t get to know.

He wonders when it will end. This seemingly permanent stage of seating on the sidewalk, waiting for the light to turn green so they could walk freely into their relationship. Where people will support them, respect her and let them be happy. But that could never happen when she’s the one who doesn’t want to move.

Luke respects that she is not ready to talk, as she said time and time again. But he just couldn’t comprehend how she, right now, could be so at peace while her name is thrown through the mud and back. Smiling with the boys as they take pictures for promo while management arranges the check-in. Does she not know what they are saying about her or she just accepts it without any retribution?

He was asking himself all these questions as he watched her so happy, his mind tormenting him with a dark cloud over their sunny day. He wants to protect her, but he doesn’t know how or if she would even let him.

And yes, maybe that was selfish of him. Banging on a closed-door with his heart in his hands. But what about the person with the key and the lock? Aren't they a little bit selfish too?

“Hey!” He heard Kat said as she sat beside him, nudging her shoulder against his.

Luke turned to her, his eyebrow still locked in a frown as he muttered a little “hey”

The blonde girl scrunched her nose at him “Yikes, what's happening that it has you all worked up, buddy?”

Luke pressed his lips on a thin line as his eyes traveled back at Y/N. She was laughing at something Ashton had said when she turned to look at him.

Y/N smiled, winking at him as she waved. Luke stared at her for a while, a small smile playing on his lips as he raised his hand in acknowledgment. He could feel his heart skipping a beat every time their eyes met, but the dark feelings in his mind made his expression turn sour the moment Y/N turned around again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the girl sitting next to him.

“You read them again, didn’t you?” Kat asked, already knowing the answer just by looking at how his shoulders tensed the moment she asked it.

They were all aware of the tabloids and the stories, being a regular occurrence to them, but not for Luke. They all knew this was new to him as well and how overwhelming it might be. So they all tried to ground him as much as possible, not letting him get affected by it as he had before.

“Now why are they saying that?!” He spat as he threw his cellphone on the leather couch, calling the boy's attention.

It was a normal day at the studio. They were all getting lunch as they laid back in the break room while Y/N and their girls went out to get them coffee.

Calum was the first one to speak, confused by his friend's sudden outburst “Uh, what exactly? And who?”

“This!” He said, grabbing his phone and tossing it at Calum. The rest of the boys gathered around as Luke plopped himself down on the couch.

Ashton began to read out loud “Seeing the growing rumors of Y/N’s mystery man, here’s a list of every guy we wished would date her”

“Okay that’s fucked up,” Michael said, swallowing his food.

“It’s better than the last one…”

“What?!” Luke asked, outraged that there are worse things out there.

“Dude, chill,” Calum said, “We understand this is beyond fucked, especially now that you’re dating or whatever. But you getting this angry at it won’t solve anything”

“Won’t solve anything?!” He said in a loud tone “That’s my girl they’re talking about. My girl dating other guys while she’s with me!”

“But they don’t know that,” Michael argued.

Luke shook his head, taking his phone back from Calum’s hands as he started typing furiously.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?! Letting them know that they can go fuck themselves” Luke answered, eyes still on the phone, a second away from pressing send before Calum snatched his phone.

“No!” He said “You are not going to out your relationship without her consent!”

“But-“

“Plus, I already took care of it,” Ashton said, holding his phone up “I tweeted at them telling them how incredibly disrespectful they’re being, now the fans are onto them and I already messaged management to deal with it”

“And that’s it?” Luke’s eyes winded “That’s all you’re gonna do?”

“That’s all we can do right now,” Ashton said with a sigh, sitting next to it “We know these situations suck, they’re horrible and dehumanizing and we are glad more people are realizing just how shitty the media is. But if we respond to every rumor there is it’s going to be a never endless battle, it’s going to backfire. We know, we tried”

“But all the stories are aimed against her” Luke said, running a hand through his face with frustration clear in his eyes “She didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Why do you think that is?” Michael chimed in “Think about Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, Miley Cyrus, Britney Spears… They aim for women because they think are easy to kill”

“Which they’re not. It makes them stronger somehow. I wouldn’t have been able to handle it if I was them” Calum said “Women are stronger than you think when it comes to this, Y/N included”

“We’ve been living with this kind of shit show for years. We defended her with knives and teeth, dragging every single outlet that posted something against her. But that shit only made it worse for her”

“They loved the attention they were receiving” Ashton’s voices laid with sarcasm “Every interaction we had they profited from it, creating even more rumors, one worse than the other, just so they could have the clicks. Eventually, Y/N asked us to stop defending her publicly and she decided to ignore it altogether”

“But we still fight for her, though. We flag the post, demand they take it down, talk to PR and management for damage control, and even sue for defamation a couple of times. She’s never got to go through any of that on her own, we wouldn’t have allowed it”

“And what am I supposed to do, then?” Luke asked, a mix of frustration and desperation filled his voice “Just do nothing?”

“Be there for her” Calum answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world “Support her. Love her. Comfort her. Whatever she needs. She’s a strong woman, one of the strongest we know. But there will come a time when she will have to lean on someone, and you have to be there and ready for her. She trusts you. Don’t let her down”

Kath placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder, understanding the man’s pain.

“I just-“ He said with a sigh “She never reads them, you know? The articles. But I do, I can’t help it. They seem to know more about her than me and that’s just-“

“Fucked?”

“Yeah,” He said as he took a long breath “I don’t know… I’m trying. This is all very new to me and she’s a professional at dealing with this kind of shit. But at the same time, she never tells me anything, how she feels about them or if they’re real or not. It’s fucking me up”

Kat hummed “And I assume you don’t ask her about it either”

The girl crooked an eyebrow at Luke, seemingly seeing through him “I- I don’t want to push”

She sighed and patted his shoulder “Let me tell you something, Luke. From girlfriend of a celebrity to the boyfriend of a celebrity” She started, earning Luke’s complete attention “When I started dating Calum we decided to keep it private, out of the eyes of the media and even from some of his friends. It was good at the beginning, great even! But the heart is ambitious and it always ends up wanting more. We fought a lot during those times, part of us wanting to hold on to what we had but at the same time longing for some kind of freedom. In the end, we did end up going public, as you know. We endure a lot of hate, we still do. But we knew what we were up against, you’re still trying to figure that out. But I’m telling you to know there is something you’re lacking”

“And what is that?” Luke asked with curiosity.

“Communication” Kat smiled sweetly at him “How do you expect to reach a meeting point while you’re sitting here in your own dark cloud and she’s over there with no clue of what’s happening with you and vice versa?”

The blonde girl got up from her seat next to him, giving him one last piece of advice before walking towards Calum “Don’t give up before you try. No one said it was going to be easy but, it’s your choice to see if it’s worth it”

Luke watched her walk away, rousing her arms around Calum’s waist as she smiled sweetly at him, giving him a small peck. Luke smiled at their love.

He thought about their friends, how in love they are with their partners and how free they are to love publicly, facing the retaliations of being in the public eye. But they seemed happy, they were happy. And he realized he wanted that for him and Y/N.

His mind drifted off to the possibility of going public, cleaning the air once and for all. No more “mysterious guy” or “Y/N’s possible secret lover” he’d be Luke Hemmings, the proud boyfriend of singer Y/N L/N. They could be happier, free. They could fight those rumors together and face the stormy weather that would come. He’d defend her until the end of times, protecting her with his life and supporting her in everything she does. He wanted that for them. But it wasn’t his sole choice to make.

“Babe!” He heard Y/N call.

She was walking up to him, a playful smile on her face as the nickname rolled off her tongue. She was wearing one of his hoodies, making her look small as she approached him.

He noticed that her eyes were shining, lately, they always did and he couldn’t get enough of them. He could get lost in her eyes willingly, throwing away the map and making himself home.

He loved her. Oh, he was so in love with her he didn’t even know what to do. The more he thought about it, the more sure he was about wanting to love her freely. He just wished she thought about it too.

“I got our keys” She smiled, pulling two cards out of her back pocket.

“Oh?” Luke asked playfully with a grin drawn into his face “And where am I supposed to sleep this week?”

In order not to create any suspicion about their relationship, they decided that Luke will have his own hotel room on tour - even though everyone knows that’s not where he sleeps or where he wakes up in the mornings. Usually “Luke’s room” is used to store the extra luggage they carry.

Y/N fake pouted “Sadly, Mr. Hemmings. Your room is at the other end of the hall”

Luke gasped “That far away?! Is there any way I can be… closer?”

The girl bit her lip as she rounded her arm around his waist, standing on her tippy toes as she softly whispered in his ear “Let’s see what I can do about that, Sir”

Y/N giggled as she heard Luke let out a soft groan, pecking his cheek with a small kiss as she stood in front of him again “Baby, you’re going to be the death of me” He said, trying to get a hold of her by her waist. But she was quicker, swiftly moving a step back as she started walking towards the elevators. One last look over her shoulder got him grabbing their things as he followed her without any questions.

The elevator ride is quiet, the beating of their hearts being the soundtrack to their wait as they reached their floor. Y/N didn't look at him as she walked towards the door, unlocking it with one swift movement of the wrist and leaving it open for Luke to come in after her.

When he opened the door, she was nowhere in sight. He wondered if she hid somewhere, this not being the first time she would jump and scare the shit out of him. But then, his ears picked up a soft humming coming through the bathroom door, and with a devilish smile he let their luggage at the side of the closet, he locked the door and made his way to her.

Y/N was humming one of her favorite songs when Luke caught her reflection in the mirror but she was not looking at him. She was putting some lotion in her hands, fingers tracing up until her upper arm with barely-there touches.

“Remember we have a party in a couple of hours, Hemmings,” She said when she felt him getting closer “We should get ready soon” He just hummed in agreement, not really paying attention to her words.

Softly, he placed his hands on either side of her hips, pulling her closer to him. Y/N kept ignoring him as she dried the excess of product out of her hands and it wasn’t until Luke pushed away some of her hair and started kissing along her neck that she finally gave him a proper response to his action.

Luke smirked as he felt her let out a shaky breath as his lips traced the shell of her ear, kissing it softly before moving lower and lower, kissing and sucking on her skin as slow as he could, making her tremble under his touch.

“Luke,” She said, holding her breath as she felt his calloused hands travel under the hoodie she was wearing. His hoodie. The one that always smelt like him.

“Hmm?” He asked, not stopping his movements for a second.

“We- uhm” The girl stuttered in a whisper when his hands started touching her over her bra, softly rolling over the nipples and making them hard “We should - oh - we should start getting ready soon”

“We should, huh?” He asked, voice raspy and low “It will be rude to go a little bit late. Wouldn’t it?”

Y/N let out a sigh when his hands left her breasts, trying to regain her breath before she lost it all over again when his fingers started playing with the hem of her jeans.

His fingers wandered carefully, fiddling with the button and zipper until they weren’t an issue. His lips grazed her neck up and down, kissing it softly as his fingertips finally reached her center.

She let out a soft moan when she felt him over her panties, tracing her lips over them and feeling her arousal “I’m sure they could wait a little bit longer” He said as he pressed a finger to her clit over the fabric “We need to take care of a few problems before that, don’t you think?”

He pressed his hips onto her, a soft whimper escaping her mouth when she felt his growing erection against her.

“So wet for me, my love” He groaned as her hand flew to the top of his hair, trying to find balance as she tugged on his curls “Always so beautiful for me”

“Luke-“

He opened his eyes just in time to catch her staring at him through the mirror with a desperate look in her eyes. It took him less than a second to spin her around and press her against the countertop, ceasing his lips into her like she was his last meal on earth.

She tangled her hands behind his head, fingers deep into his hair as he grabbed her by the back of her thighs, easily lifting her off and taking her to the king-size bed where they made sure to lose track of time between kisses and moans as they satisfied their needs with each other, over and over again until they fell through the abyss of pleasure together, whispering sweet confessions as their breath went back to normal.

It was easy to say that they were the last ones to reach the lobby. What was hard for them to ignore was the knowing looks and teasing smiles from their friends that were waiting for them for a good amount of time.

“Don’t say anything” Y/N threatened Ashton as he opened his mouth. But he just laughed

“If you want Luke to walk around with his fly open then sure, I’ll keep my mouth shut”

The ride to the party was filled with laughter and chit-chats. They were all in a great mood to finally have a mini-break in between shows and what better way to celebrate it than at a big party?

Luke stole glances from Y/N as she talked to Bethany. She looked beautiful with her black dress, making Luke proud and a little bit snug about him being the one who would take her home afterward.

But he knew that after tonight they needed to talk. And not “talk” like they usually do. No, this time he was going to express his concerns to her, his hopes for them, and confess his love for her over and over again. He wanted her to know how he feels, he needed to know where they stand and what she needs to feel more comfortable and what he can do to help her feel at ease.

He just needs reassurance, something to hold on to while he provides the same for her. In the end, he knew they would be okay.

After a few minutes, they reached the house of the host. Luke marveled at the mansion that stood proudly in front of him. When Y/N mentioned a party with some label associates, she never mentioned that the party was going to be hosted by the president and owner of the label.

He felt Y/N tug on his hand a couple of times before separating herself from him and going to stand next to the girls.

For a moment Luke forgot that they needed to keep appearances and couldn’t be together romantically in public. He could feel his heart aching as he watched her walk away with her friends, laughing together as they stepped into the party.

“Hey,” Michael said behind him, following the eyes of the sad man next to him “It’s just one night”

He tried to be comforting, but all Luke could wonder was: Would it be just for a night?

The party was wild. That’s the first thought everyone has in their minds as they step through those doors into a world of darkness mixed with neon lights, smoke machines, and three open bars scattered around the hall. People were separated into groups: The ones who were too drunk to stop dancing, the ones not drunk enough to start dancing, and the ones who were networking their way into the industry.

Everyone that was someone was at that party. Producers, artists, songwriters, performers, agents… You name it. It was a party for the big leagues and Luke could not help but feel out of place the moment he stepped foot into the scene.

“Hey! 5 Seconds of Summer. C’mere!” A voice called over the music.

Standing not too far from them there was a man, his bald head shined under the lights as he held a drink to his lips, beckoning the band to come over.

Y/N and the guys started walking towards the man without a second to wait, leaving Luke and their girlfriends to witness the interaction from afar.

“Who’s that?” Asked Luke, getting closer to Danielle as they watched their partners laugh with a bunch of men who were now surrounding the band.

“That’s Anthony Kellinghs” She answered, swiftly grabbing a drink from one of the trays carried by the passing waitresses “He’s one of the big bosses in the industry. Ashton said his team approached them not too long ago to see if they would be interested in changing labels and work with them”

Luke glanced back to the group. Y/N was standing next to Calum, talking about something that made Anthony smile even though her face was serious. He did not like the way that man was looking at her.

Anthony laughed loudly, making other guests turn his face towards them. Y/N and the boys shared a confused gaze as they laughed awkwardly along with him. The bald man kept laughing, clearly intoxicated as he lowered his hand and rounded his arm around Y/N’s waist.

Luke’s breath got caught in his lungs as he watched how Y/N’s body movements came to a halt and her eyes widened in discomfort, her smile seemed stiff but she didn't stop laughing or talking to the guy. Luke could feel his blood boil as he watched his girl in the arms of someone else, acting like nothing was happening and that everything was fine, in front of him.

“What the fuck?” He muttered under his breath. Debating on whether he should go and punch that dude in the face. No matter how important he was in the industry, he wanted him away from Y/N immediately.

But he didn’t move and neither did Y/N. Luke didn’t know if it was because she physically couldn’t or because…

No, he rejected that thought immediately. It was clear to him by her eyes that she was desperate to get away from his touch. And apparently not only to him because the moment that man put his hands around her Ashton and Michael called his attention away from her, moving a few steps back so Y/N could have more space to free herself the moment she could. Calum had his eyes on her, too, with his arm placed to his side as if he were to take her away from there at any second.

Yet the man did not move an inch away from her. Instead, his hand trailed lower with every word he spoke, until Luke couldn’t see it anymore. All he could see what’s Y/N’s uncomfortable face as she suddenly jumped forward, fear written all over her eyes.

Luke let out a curse as he took a step forward, ready to beat that man’s face to dust. But he stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait!” Danielle said, eyes locked on the scene played in front of them.

Luke stared ahead and let out a breath of relief when he saw Calum taking Y/N away from the group and towards the bar, seemingly excusing themselves to get a drink. He saw how his friend’s arm rounded around her shoulders, making it impossible for her to look back and for anyone else to notice her face as they walked away with no intentions of coming back.

Luke lost sight of them as he watched them disappear into the party. “Good,” he thought “At least she’ll be safe and away from him” But that thought did not calm the rage he felt towards the creep that dared touch her in front of her friends.

“I’m going to kill him” He hissed, once again trying to step forwards but once again being pushed back by Ashton’s girl.

“The guys got it covered,” She said, her sweet voice laced with a warning as she whispered loud enough for only them to hear “They will handle it and make sure they never work with that man, ever. It’s not the first time this has happened”

“This happened before?!” Luke said, attracting some curious eyes to him. But he couldn’t care less about it at the moment.

The girls looked at each other and then at Luke. How could they explain to the man that this happens more times than Y/N would be able to admit? They knew first hand how the industry was full of creeps and disgusting men, having dealt with them in the past as well, but Y/N…

She was the front girl, the main focus of attention. She was beautiful, talented, hot… that’s all they saw, never caring about her caring personality, or how intelligent she was, how she was the driven force of 5SOS. She was more than her looks, she was a girl trying to live her dreams. But men only seem to see one thing.

“I’m going to check on them,” Kat said as she walked towards where Calum disappeared with Y/N. Bethany mentioned going to Michael to try and make them get away from the conversation they were still having with that fucker.

And Luke stood there, not able to do anything “Y/N wouldn’t want you to cause a scene, that’s why the boys never do it anymore. She knows how important image is for all of them and a scandal is the last thing they need right now. Especially if some “random dude” goes and punch one of the biggest names in the industry”

Danielle was right and he hated that. He hated that he couldn’t do anything to defend his girl because she didn’t want to be defended. But the fact that she knew how to handle these kinds of things didn’t make it any less wrong or difficult for him to ignore. More so because their relationship was still kept a secret.

Luke couldn’t help but think that maybe if people knew they were together, things like these wouldn’t happen. After all, the only thing men like Anthony respected was the presence of another man.

Ashton and Michael returned after a minute, both of them with their jaws clenched and eyes filled with the same feeling of powerless Luke felt.

“Where is she?” Ashton asked, standing beside Dani and holding her close by the waist, almost as if he were scared something might happen to her.

“Kat went to check on them, they still haven’t returned,” She said, comforting her boyfriend by running her hand up and down his arm.

“This is bullshit” Luke murmured, frustration lacing his voice as he grabbed one drink from one of the waitresses and drowned it in one go without flinching. He turned around and started walking away from the group.

“Where are you going?” Michael asked, half concerned and half furious from him walking away at this moment.

“I need air” He answered as he took another drink and walked through the garden doors. Not even sparing a glance back when Y/N called his name as she watched him go.

Luke spent most of the night going back and forwards between the main hall and the garden. He drank whatever was being offered to him and sat down on a bench as he watched the casual smokers come outside, accompanying him from a distance.

He knew he was being childish. He didn’t understand much about the industry, nor how people that worked in it were. All Luke knew was that Y/N was nothing like them; she was not greedy, nor was she a creep, she wasn’t evil or ill-hearted and she didn’t deserve what happened.

He wanted to be with her, apologize for his shitty behavior, and tell her that he loved her. Because he did. He loved her with all his heart and it hurts him to see her like that. But every time he stepped through those doors back to the main hall - every time more intoxicated than the others - she was nowhere to be found. Or she didn’t want to be found, but that didn’t stop Luke from looking for her.

And every time, wherever he found her, she would have company. Sometimes she would be with the boys and their girlfriends laughing along with some other group of people - usually men - that stood a little too close and personal with her. Other times she would be on her own, talking to some guy or girl he didn’t know, too preoccupied with her conversation to even notice Luke standing at a distance, looking at her with longing eyes as he tried to find the courage to talk to her.

Then, he would go back to the bar, order his drink and go back outside or with the group, tightening the grip on his glass as he watched the girl he loves being swept away in conversations he couldn’t be a part of, after all, he was just one of the composers and her friend. Nothing else.

The guys and their girlfriends tried to cheer him up, including him in conversations and inviting him to dance. They knew how new this was to him, having to remind themselves every once in a while when they caught his sad eyes dancing across the room on the looks of his fleeting love.

“She came looking for you a few minutes ago while you were outside,” Dani told him the third time he came by the group.

“Why didn’t she go out with me?” He asked, eyes on Y/N as she talked to Michael and one of the producers they met in London a few years back.

“She was going to,” Ashton chimed in “She walked over there but I think Niall caught wind of her and they started to catch up”

Luke clenched his jaw at the thought of Y/N with other men. His mind couldn’t help but to go back to all those articles about her exes, her possible new partners, her possible future partners. Cheating scandals, break-up songs, parties where she didn’t leave alone… All the things she refused to acknowledge came to the surface, hitting Luke in the face as he realized that they might not all be lies.

He hated to think about her that way, to think that he didn’t trust her enough or that she didn’t trust him enough or whatever the fuck was wrong with them. But as he saw how Y/N hugged a stranger, all his thoughts went out the window.

“Who is that?” He asked no one in particular.

“Who?” Bethany asked in response, following Luke’s stare towards her friend “Oh, that’s Josh”

“Josh? As in Josh Benthlow? Her ex?”

Beth furrowed her eyebrows as she saw the look of pure rage on the blonde’s eyes “Uh, yeah? But you got something wrong there” She said, “They never dated”

Y/N laughed at something Josh said, pushing him playfully on the shoulder as he kept telling his story. Luke recognized the look in his eyes; it was the same way he used to look at Y/N when they first met: Pure adoration. And, he didn’t know if it was the alcohol in his system that was making him see things that weren’t there, but he could swear he saw Y/N flirt back at him.

“Friends don’t act like that” He spat, taking another sip from his drink, already losing count of how many he had that night.

“Hey!” Beth called his attention, taking the drink from him “That’s enough now. Alcohol is making you act like a complete asshole”

“I-”

“I don’t care.” She said, interrupting whatever he had to say before he even said it “Look, I get that you’re getting used to all of this. But you need to stop with the jealous act right this instant. She’s famous, yes, they all are and that means that you will have to share her with the world whether you like it or not. It’s her dream after all, and besides Y/N would never do something like that to hurt you and you know it”

Did he?

Not long after the group decided to go back to the hotel, having already stayed at that party longer than necessary given that they have a show the next day. The ride back was quiet, everyone either being too tired to even speak or too smart to try and cut the tension that was being created by the new couple’s behavior. Even when Y/N sat next to Luke he didn’t acknowledge her, keeping his eyes looking outside the window the whole car ride.

Y/N was one of the first ones to get out of the car, walking up to the elevators and not waiting for anyone as the doors closed.

Luke clenched his jaw as he contemplated not going to their room tonight, fighting with the feeling of not wanting to see her and the feeling of never wanting to let her go.

“You need to go there right now,” Calum said, taking a step next to Luke but not looking in his eyes “Having been her friend for so long I can see that she’s upset… Nah, fuck that. Even idiots can see that she’s upset”

Luke scoffed “She’s the one that’s upset?” Voice laced with sarcasm.

Calum hummed “Guess not every idiot can see that” He pressed the button of the elevator and hoped in with Kat, not waiting for Luke as the door closed in his face, but not before saying “You’re not the only one hurting, you know?”

It took another 20 minutes for Luke to open the door of their room. Again, Y/N was nowhere to be seen, but the light coming from under the closed bathroom door let him know that she was there.

He sat at the edge of the bed, hands covering his face as he now wished he hadn't drunk as much as he did. His head was spinning, he couldn’t decipher if it were because of the alcohol or because of his intrusive thoughts that wouldn’t leave his head.

Y/N got out of the bathroom for what it felt like an eternity later. She was wearing her Spongebob pajama and her hair was tied in a messy bun. Her makeup-less face looked tired as she didn’t glance at Luke before sitting by her side of the bed.

They stayed in silence for another five minutes before she decided to speak.

“Are we going to talk about tonight?” She said, voice neutral of any emotion.

Luke scoffed “Now you want to talk?”

She ignored him “I didn’t see you all night, Luke. I was worried”

“Oh, you were?” He mocked with cruel sarcasm as he got up from the bed and started pacing around the room “Funny way to show it you weren’t around!”

“I wasn’t around?! Luke, you spent half the night outside! Every time I came over you were nowhere to be found!”

“And every time I was there you were too busy talking to other people”

“I was working, Luke!” She said with a groan, massaging her temple as she turned to look at him “It’s part of my job to make connections at these kinds of events. And if you didn’t notice, Calum, Ashton, and Michael did the same”

“Well, you must be pretty damn good at your job then!”

Y/N looked at him, shocked by the way he was speaking to her “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Luke was angry at her question. How could she not know? “Why don’t you ask Josh what I mean?”

“Oh my fucking GOD,” She said with the loudest tone he’s ever heard her talk “That’s what this is all about?! He’s a friend!”

“I was a friend, too and we still fucked!” Luke matched her tone of voice, probably waking the people in the room next to theirs.

Y/N laughed humorlessly “You have no right to-”

“And whose fault is that? Huh? Whose fault is that I cannot call you my girlfriend in front of other people? Whose fault is that I have to stand to the side and watch you flirt with every guy on earth just because “it’s your job”?” He asked “Y/N, I’m trying so hard for you to let me in and the only thing you do is push me away! Are you embarrassed by me in any way?”

“No,” She said, finally meeting his eyes and seeing no more anger in them, just an incredible sadness for both of them “No, of course not”

“Then why?” Luke asked, taking a step towards her and cupping her cheek with one hand “Why can’t you let me protect you? Why can’t I be with you freely? I know some things are hard for you to talk about, love. I get that. But I’m drowning here, not knowing what to think or what to say to make you trust me”

Y/N stayed quiet as she looked into his eyes before looking away. Luke sighed.

“We don’t have to talk about this right now. But we’ll have to do it eventually”

“I know,” She said with a string of voice.

“Sorry for the things I said”

“I’m sorry, too”

Luke wanted to kiss her, to comfort her. Even though he is still mad at her, he still has this need to protect her from the wrongs of the world. But she’s got to let him in first.

Instead, Luke placed a kiss on her head and walked towards the bathroom to get changed for the night. When he came back Y/N was already asleep on her side of the bed, her back turned to Luke’s side.

He let out a sigh as he turned off the lights, laying down facing the other side as he murmured a “Good night” Barely missing the soft sniff she gave in response.

The next morning Luke woke up without her by his side. He felt a tug in his heart as he remembered all the things he said to her, the cruel way in which he implied that it was all her fault when both of them had a bit of blame to put in their names. He wouldn’t be surprised if in the middle of the night she decided to leave and sleep somewhere else.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, ready to give her a call and apologize properly, hoping she’d pick up. But just as he was about to press the call button, the door opened.

Y/N walked in, sandwich and orange juice in hand. A small smile came to her lips when she saw him already awake.

“Hey,” She said softly, almost like if there were someone else in the room that was sleeping “You missed breakfast, so I bought you this. It’s now much but-“

“Thank you,” Luke said with complete honesty.

Y/N nodded, walking up to his nightstand to place the drink and the sandwich. But before she could walk away again, Luke grabbed her softly by the arm.

“Luke-“

“I’m sorry,” He said, his baby blue eyes looking into hers. He was sad to see no emotion in them compared with how shiny they were yesterday before the fight “I didn’t mean it”

Y/N let out a sigh as she sat on the bed next to him “No, you’re not” She said almost resignedly “And yes, you did. And it’s okay, I deserve it”

Luke shook his head, feeling even worse than before “No, Y/N I was out of place and-“

“You were, but that didn’t make your words any less than truthful. I hurt you, Luke. Even without wanting to” She said with a broken voice, but the tears didn’t come “But I want to change that. Tonight, we can talk after the concert. Okay?”

“I don’t want to pressure you” His hand flew to her face, placing a strand of hair behind her back. She smiled softly and kissed the palm of his hand.

“I know, but I want to” Finally, she got up from the bed and started walking into the bathroom, gathering some of her things. “We’ll start early today with some interviews and sound check, and the girls wanted to go shopping so they’ll meet us there. I will send a car for you before the concert and then we’ll talk. Alright?”

She grabbed her back and headed towards the door, giving Luke one last look and a soft smile before she left.

Luke didn't forget how she didn’t kiss him before she closed the door.

The day passed by and Luke was still in their room. He sat in front of the table with his notebook and pen, writing up words that, at that moment, reminded him of her.

He didn’t like how they were acting with each other. How quick everything went to shit after last night’s mistakes when words were louder than actions until those words became apologies.

Y/N said he didn’t mean his apology, and deep down he knew it to be true. He regrets the way he told her, admiring that he would have handled things a little better than he did. But he meant what he said about her pushing him away by not communicating. They were both trying but apparently, they sucked at it.

Truth was, there was no one to blame. Truth was, they were both at fault. And, truth was that he would still fall to his knees for her the moment she asked. Because he had never loved someone as much as he loved her.

When the time of the concert was almost upon him, he quickly jumped into the shower, ignoring all the beeps and rings of his phone as his thoughts and hopes filled his mind. He thought about what he was going to say to her, and he hoped that they could finally get past this and leave this whole situation behind; to start over and just be free.

He was putting on his shirt when his phone started beeping again, finally checking it to see what the fuss was all about.

Thousands upon thousands of notification flooded his screen, and they all said the same thing:

“Y/N AND MADDEN BACK TOGETHER?!”

“THE ENCOUNTER OF THE YEAR! MADDEN BANKS AND Y/N L/N SEEN TOGETHER AGAIN TALKING ON THE OUTSIDES OF THE VENUE”

“OMG Y/N X MADDEN SHIPPER REJOICE AS THE COUPLE SEEMS TO HAVE REKINDLED THEIR RELATIONSHIP AFTER CHEATING SCANDAL”

Luke felt as if an elephant was standing on top of his chest, losing his balance and falling to the bed with his phone in hand, unable to look away from his screen.

His breathing became elaborated as his eyes filled with tears as he read the tweets and article titles. He knew he shouldn’t click on them. He knew. And yet…

“Lead singer of the band 5 Seconds of Summer, Y/N L/N was last seen talking to her ex-boyfriend, Madden Banks, in a secluded alley outside the venue where the band is going to perform their concert tonight.

We last saw the couple last year around August when Madden announced their breakup after cheating scandals came out to the surface. None of the parties made any comments about it, but it was set to believe that Y/N was the one who committed the mistakes after a set of tweets on Bank’s personal account where it said that he was feeling “broken-hearted” by the situation and he hoped no one had to get through that ever again.

Now it seems that the past is the past! As Y/N and Madden were caught by paparazzi talking again, and by the looks on both their faces it seemed like their relationship was not over after all!

We are still waiting for confirmations from either of them but congratulations to the couple ❤️”

A set of pictures were attached to the article. All of them of bad quality and from questionable sources.

On the first one, you could see Madden smiling with Y/N’s back facing the camera. On the second one, Madden was closer to her, almost cradling her face as if to kiss her. The third picture had Madden pointing out the paparazzi, a surprised expression plastered on his face as Y/N appeared out of focus. The last picture had Y/N walking away with Madden following behind, both of them with angry faces seemingly for being interrupted.

Luke was gripping on his phone tightly, a sense of rage coming over him as he wiped his tears furiously and walked up the door. Turning off his phone before he could read Y/N’s message:

Y/N: it’s not true! Let me explain…

He did not go to the concert that night, nor did he stay in their bedroom, opting for sleeping in the room that was originally assigned to him.

His emotions walked him into a bar last night, letting him drown his sorrows in alcohol as he slowly drifted away from his senses. He doesn’t remember getting to the hotel, but he does remember not wanting to be with her that night. Feeling betrayed and used, what was the point?

It was pretty late when he woke up the next morning, too late for Y/N to even be in the hotel knowing that they still needed to do a lot of press before traveling to their next destination. It was sufficient to say that he was not going to go with them.

He was about to book a flight when he noticed his phone died while being turned off last night. He was in such a rush that he forgot to bring his charger with him, but he felt confident that it was safe for him to go back to her room now that she was gone. He would pack all his things and leave, he was not about to endure any of this shit anymore, no matter how much it hurts him.

When he opened the door to her room, however, Luke noticed that he was not alone.

“You didn’t come last night”

Y/N was standing by the window, looking at the street through the thin curtain, hoping she might catch a glimpse of Luke walking back to her. She was wearing the hotel’s robe and had her hair tied in a ponytail. Her voice was fragile, tired, and broken as if she spent all night crying.

“Good,” thought Luke “at least we’ll both be miserable”

Luke didn’t answer that, instead, he just asked “I thought you’d be doing the press tour”

She shook her head, her back still facing him as she sniffed “I couldn’t go. I didn’t know where you were”

He would’ve thought it was touching and he might’ve felt bad for her if she hadn’t shattered his heart the night before. So he said nothing.

“I needed you last night, Luke,” She said, voice a little firmer as she finally turned around. Luke’s heart ached when he saw her delicate figure, she looked sick, pale, and tired. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red from all the crying. Part of him wanted to go to her and hold her, but her betrayal was still too fresh on his skin.

Luke scoffed “Sure you did” He didn’t intend for his voice to sound with such malice, but it was almost as if his tongue had a brain on itself “Was Madden not enough?”

“Stop,”

“Is he here?” He asked, voice mocking interest as he walked around the room “C’mon Asshole!” He called, opening the closet doors and walking into the bathroom “You won, motherfucker, you can have her! It’s not like it’s hard anyway”

Her eyes widened at his words, cheeks turning pink at the realization of the insult “Luke!”

“Was this part of your plan?” He asked, turning towards her with nothing but the rage inside his eyes “To bring me here to make him jealous? To make me fall for you so easily? Is that why we never went public? Ha! Should’ve known you just wanted a free pass to whore around while still making sure you have a secure fuck waiting back at the hotel”

Y/N froze. Not even Luke could believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, but he was too far gone in his own anger to process them or to take them back.

“This is the part where you apologize,” She said, eyes filling with tears she refused to spill.

“No, this is the part where I tell you to fuck off” Luke spat, taking a step towards her, not realizing how she flinched as she took a step back “You know, I tried so fucking hard for months to make you happy. And every day I read those fucking articles that were talking shit about you and every fucking day I told myself that those weren’t real. That you weren’t like that… surprise, surprise! Looks like the cat is out of the bag. Makes sense! That’s why you never wanted to talk, you never wanted to admit to what you did because you never take any fucking responsibilities for the damages you cause! I thought I knew you, at least some parts of you. Turns out everyone is right about you. Every fucking word of it”

He turned around, ready to grab his things and go, but the adrenaline was kicking in and he just couldn’t stop.

“Tell Madden that he’s an idiot for taking you back,” He said with his back turned to her “That he should’ve left your cheating ass alone. Let you get what you deserve”

“I never cheated” She mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

He scoffed “Yeah, right”

“I never fucking cheated!” Y/N raised his voice, making Luke turn around to face her. Her face was red with tears and she had her fist clenched to her sides, knuckles white from all the pressure she was putting in.

“I never cheated on Madden! I never fucking cheated on you! On anyone! He cheated on me, repeatedly and with several people for all the course of our relationship! I never touched a person outside ANY of my relationships. I have been nothing but faithful to you and now you’re throwing that shit at me without knowing an ounce of my side of the story?!

You want to know, Luke, why I never tell the story as it was? Why it’s so fucking hard for me to tell the story even to the people I love?”

It was a challenge, he knew from the look in her eyes that she was not going to stay quiet any longer. She didn’t even wait for his answer.

“I was fucking abused, Luke! Physically, mentally, sexually… you fucking name it! During that whole relationship. Want me to tell you the details or you could figure it out yourself?! I was getting beaten almost daily! I had to hide the bruises and cuts in front of the guys as they slowly watched me fall apart. I had to lie to them for YEARS because I genuinely thought he loved me. He said he did so I believed him. It wasn’t until one night where he got too far that I had to tell myself that it was enough. But what could I say? I was so fucking embarrassed I couldn’t go to the media that calls me a liar every chance they have! I couldn’t go to the police because he has money and could easily get away with it! I was so fucking alone until I met you and… You took his side”

Luke felt like his heart was taking a punch with every word that she said. Every tear that fell off her eyes was like a knife in the back. The guilt was eating him inside out, crashing into him like a tsunami. He should’ve kept his mouth shut, he shouldn’t have let his emotions take the reins, he should’ve... He felt all of his emotions turn to mush, all but shame as he stared into her eyes knowing he was the one who fucked up.

“Y/N-“

“I needed you last night when he cornered me. I needed you by my side as I broke down backstage because you weren’t answering your phone. How do you think I felt when I came into our room and found it empty? I was ready to tell you everything and then you just decided that wasn’t worth it anymore. That I wasn’t worthy anymore. All without giving me a chance” She cried, shattering sobs running through her body as she remembered the feeling of hopelessness she had “Not only that, but I come to find this on your side of the bed”

She threw his notebook at him, he didn’t need to open it to know what she read. Already regretting leaving it there.

“Sometimes, you're a stranger in my bed

Don't know if you love me or you want me dead.

Some days, you're the best thing in my life

Sometimes when I look at you, I see my wife

Then you turn into somebody I don't know

And you push me away

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

Late-night devil, put your hands on me

And never let go”

She recited the words by memory, having read them over and over again as she waited for him to come back.

“Is that really how you see me, Luke?” She asked, voice broken as she looked into his eyes.

Luke felt his body tremble with shame as he looked at her. He has never seen her look so sad and fragile before, the smile he loved so much was gone and he knew he might never see it again. He wanted to scream that that’s now how he saw her at all. Those words were written out of frustration, out of anger. He wanted to tell her that she’s the most amazing, loving, strong, intelligent person he know but... how could he even look her in the eyes?

He knew that he went too far. That he should’ve given her a chance to explain what happened instead of just letting the media fill his brain with lies; lies he believed without question because of his insecurities. He broke the strongest girl he’s ever known, but she was still standing.

Despite the hurt, he caused her, she was still standing in front of him. Demanding answers he doesn’t know how to give. Still being so much braver than him.

“Y/N, I-“ He began, voice breaking as he was left speechless. How could he ask for her forgiveness now that he broke every ounce of trust she held for him?

“Luke, I think you should leave,” She said, rounding her arms around her torso as she looked back at the window. Unable to hold her gaze to him any longer.

“No,” Luke begged of her. Pleaded, even “Y/N, baby don’t-“

“Leave” She repeated more firmly “If I’m such a monster, the best thing we can do is for you to go home”

She turned her back to him once again, and he knew that he had just lost the battle he was too scared to even fight.

Y/N cried silent tears as she heard him gather his belongings and pack his bags, feeling as if she might collapse into the floor if she weren’t holding herself too tightly. If she concentrated, she could hear him cry, too, until he closed the last of his bags and walked through the door.

Because, after all, he would still go to the ends of the world if she asked.

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @notinthesameguey @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimesos @kingxnichole @givebuckyhisplumsnow @hufflehemm @girl-toxxic

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pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years

Text

The Holly And The Ivy

My Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Sigurd/Reader, Sigurd/Margrethe

Summary: “I had this idea where Sigurd (or any of the brothers really) were to marry a Christian, but their marriage is dry and more political than anything, but Ivar is fascinated by her attitude (being opposite of him) and her love for life and simple things. He hears the reader and who she's married to talking about how she loves Christmas and he shuts her down, but Ivar decides to let her pick out a tree from the forest and put it up in the Great Hall and decorate it any way she wants. And the ending would include a kiss under mistletoe? If you can work with it.”

I’m very sorry if I dissapoint you anon, but the story was easier or smoother for me to write as a Modern!AU. I really hope you don’t mind. I can try something in the actual time period still, if you are not happy with au’s.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, passing mentions of abusive relationships (not involving any of the relationsips in the tag btw), angst, my poor attempt at holiday fics or holiday spirit. Also, a part is not smut or explicit but getting closer to it than most of my work, so that too.

A/N: I really hope I don’t dissapoint whoever requested this. Also, I made this way more complicated than it needed to be, bc I always do, and for that I’m also sorry. Hope you like this, thank you for reading!

The title is from a Christmas carol, cause why not lol

Taglist: @1950schick @youbloodymadgenius (I realized you once asked to be tagged on my Vikings works and I forgot, sorry)

“When we are done with this trip we’ll go back home.” Sigurd points out one night as you both say goodnight, in some hotel somewhere in Norway.

“Home?”

“To my mother’s, in a week. Family time and all that.”

Before you are to leave for your own room, you call out, “For Christmas?”

The blond shakes his head, “Yule. You can celebrate your Christmas when we return.”

“That’ll be after the New Year!” You complain softly, offering a smile because you cannot help it.

“I will have to deal with Ivar and my mother, you can deal with this.” Sigurd sentences, the harshness startling you and prompting you to accept the words with a nod.

He mutters a goodnight again, hesitating for a moment on his bedroom door, as if questioning whether he should say sorry or not. You choose to relieve him of that choice, going into your own room and closing the door with a quiet click.

As if it were waiting for the door to close, your phone lights up on your nightstand.

How’s Oslo?

You type a quick response,

You could just ask me if we’ll be attending your mother’s celebrations, you know.

The response takes a while longer, and you cannot help the smile that pulls at your lips.

…Are you?

I expect all those lessons of yours with Floki to come to use. I’m going to need to learn about Yule, apparently.

So I’m supposed to teach you?

Who else?

Your fiancé. Is the reply you get, so fast you think he already knew what your reply was going to be before you even sent it. After a moment, before you can even think on what to answer, another message comes through. Nvm, my brother is useless. I’ll do it.

Your lips pull into a wide and stupid smile, and God, not even the shame at the quick beating of your heart or the warmth that spreads through you could make you be any less thankful for this, if anything. For him.

Thank you. Are you going to be there by Christmas?

This time the answer takes a while longer, and the indication that he is typing appears and disappears a few times.

I don’t know. Before you can ask anything, or send anything, a new message pops up. Princess, this doesn’t get any easier. I don’t know if I can.

Tears rise in your eyes because a part of you knows you’re meant to say goodbye at the end, and every time you are reminded, either by the pain in your own chest or Ivar’s words, that you are on borrowed time; you realize that end is close than you think.

Well, in that case, Merry Christmas, Ivar.

____

You find yourself being driven to that massive and fancy house by your fiancé.

You toy with your engagement ring as the car approaches the house. You know, rationally, that you have nothing to fear. The brothers have never been mean or hurtful -well, most of them haven’t-, and Aslaug has always been courteous and kind and…incredibly performative.

A part of you never ceased to feel like an outsider looking in. Between the pariah that a stupid business practice will be made into Sigurd’s wife, and the silent and soft woman they ignore as if she were another piece of furniture, you’d much rather be the latter.

“Heavy little thing, isn’t it?” Sigurd teases as he turns off the engine, motioning with his head to the rings on your left hand.

You don’t say anything in response, simply getting out of the car in silence. You know he meant well, he always does.

But a part of you that is hopeful and childish and still looks at the snow that starts to fall lightly over the ground as some miracle that means Christmas is upon us…that part of you cannot help but feel bitter about it all. Regretful, or, maybe, resentful.

You never imagined life would be this, engagement -marriage- would be this. You thought of happiness and warmth and fidelity.

Foolish hopes, really. The hopes of a child that watched her parents dance to the light of the Christmas lights, to the music of the soft music her father hummed. Nothing but foolish hopes.

So, when Sigurd steps out and hesitates in offering you his hand, you offer a smile and take his hand in yours, choosing to appreciate that at least the man you will be forced to marry is one you might call a friend, a partner, one day.

It is easy to forget, it is easy to let your heart be light and just enjoy the adorable giggles of Björn and Torvi’s children, the sympathetic smile of Margrethe, the warm and brotherly embrace of Hvitserk.

You are sipping on wine and watching Ubbe throw Asa over his head as she yells for him to throw her higher when a presence stands by your side and a wine glass clinks with your own in silent toast.

“I know you know about Sigurd and me,” Margrethe whispers, “And I want you to know I am sorry. But…I won’t leave him, not until he asks me to.”

If a year ago someone told you that you’d spent Christmas Eve being told by your fiancé’s mistress that she refuses to stop seeing him, you would have assumed the world turned on its head.

It did, but…you still find it in you to love this world that hurts you, this life that tests you.

You offer a smile, “I know you love him. It started as…”

“Gold-digging?” The blonde supplies, a sheepish grimace on her face.

“I wouldn’t be as unkind as to-…”

“You should. That’s what it was,” Her smile loses the edge, and she falters, “At first.”

You accept her words with a nod, and another sip of your wine.

“Then as long as you are discreet, I don’t mind. Keep him happy, Margrethe, he deserves it.”

You start to walk away when she stops you with a call of your name.

“And you don’t? Deserve to be happy, I mean.”

You hesitate, faltering for a few seconds too long. Her blue eyes are big and uncharacteristically honest as they look at you.

“I…”

You take your gaze off hers, because it feels like she will know something she shouldn’t, something you don’t want her to; but your eyes betray you, it seems.

“Oh, him. Well-kept secret, that one,” She states, and when you open your mouth to argue, Margrethe shakes her head, “It’s okay, I don’t…I don’t blame you. Even if I don’t understand at all how that came to be.”

“It’s…”

“Complicated?” The blonde supplies, and you allow yourself a smile, you loosen your shoulders and close your eyes with a deep breath.

“Ivar, he…understands me.”

“But you two are nothing alike,” She states, and at your shrug, concedes, “Maybe that’s why.”

“Maybe,” You offer, and after a breath, because bitter regret at being the thing that keeps her from the man she loves chokes you for a moment, “Margrethe, I…”

“Don’t you even think of apologizing to me,” She laughs, “Gods, woman, you truly are a soft thing, aren’t you?”

“I have the privilege of being it.” You offer with a kind smile, because you’ve seen the scars, because you remember her when she was more fragile.

Margrethe shakes her head, “The burden.” She corrects, and with a soft squeeze of her free hand on your arm, she walks away.

____

It’s on the day before Christmas that the last of the Lothbrok arrives. You walk down the stairs to a very early breakfast, and jump when the front door opens to reveal Ubbe and Ivar.

He came.

“You are up early.” Ubbe comments as he passes you by, dropping a kiss on your cheek.

You greet Ubbe absently, your eyes on his brother. Numbly, you hear him say something about telling Aslaug that Ivar has come home, and quick steps carrying him up the stairs.

Your lips curve into a smile, or at least they try to, “Hi.”

“Hello, Princess,” Ivar greets, what months ago would have been a smirk curving his lips. Now, now it’s more tired and worn than anything. “Just in time for your…Christmas, right?”

You nod, feeling the stupid urge to cry, “Yeah. Means a lot, you know.”

“Well, I could feel you pouting over the phone, love,” His eyes check the stairs before he moves aided by his crutch towards you with a wince of pain -the cold, you remind yourself, the cold making his legs ache-, and once he is before you, a hand that shouldn’t feel as tender as it does cups your cheek and brings your mouth to his. “I couldn’t leave you alone here. You always find ways to embarrass yourself.”

You chuckle, burrowing your head on his chest as you embrace him.

“I may have fucked up a few times,” You concede, eyes closed as you take in his scent, his warmth, “But I’m cute, I get away with a lot of things.”

____

As the timer on your phone dings, you get up from the couch, leaving a warm but strong drink behind, and make your way to the kitchen, ready to take out the sponge cake -no, a voice too alike Ivar corrects you, Bûche de Noël-.

Uneven steps behind you let you know of who walked in behind you, and you turn around with a slight frown on your brows, meaning to ask something before he interrupts you.

“He’s groping and kissing her in front of you, and you say nothing?” Ivar demands, anger shining clearly in his blue eyes.

“Sigurd and Margrethe?” You ask, and shake your head, “Why would I say anything?”

“You know about them.”

“Of course I do. He doesn’t hide it from me, and he shouldn’t hide it from his family. He loves her, and she loves him.”

“You don’t care that he’s humiliating you?” He presses, and you sigh.

“Everyone here knows how things truly are between Sigurd and me.”

Ivar’s mouth curls into a snarl, and cruelty spews from his lips, “Well, if you had let Ragnar know you had no problem letting your husband fuck whoever he wants, you might have been able to marry Björn, like your father wanted.”

You close your eyes, “Don’t be like this.”

“Like what, hm? Like someone that’s watching the woman he-…What am I supposed to be then, hm? What would make you happy?” He accuses, not losing the cruel edge in his voice even if you both know what he stopped himself from admitting. When you don’t answer, Ivar takes a deep and angry breath through his nose, “I’ve always been jealous of my brothers, you know this. Growing up their poor crippled brother is nothing to knowing Sigurd gets you and doesn’t even know what he-…what I’d do to be him.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Make him be the man you deserve!”

“He’s not the man I want,” You point out before you can keep the words trapped behind your lips. Ivar is inexplicably stunned by your words, it seems, and you lower your gaze. Resting your hands on the counter you drop your shoulders and shake your head, letting go of the previous argument and returning to…peace, or as close to it as one can get with Ivar. “Your brother deserves to be as happy as he can, with the woman he loves. It will not hurt me to see him with her. As long as-…”

“‘As long as it is discreet’, yes, I know. My mother and Ragnar have the same agreement.”

“It works for them, does it not?”

Ivar meets your gaze and doesn’t answer for a few moments, long enough that dread sets in your chest and questions arise in your mind.

Eventually, on the side of his jaw the clear tell of gritted teeth, he replies,

“Not as well as you think.”

“Well, Sigurd and I are friends, we…things will work out. They have to.”

“They have to, of course,” He mocks, moving his head as he rolls his eyes, “Anything to keep Ragnar and your father happy, hm?”

“Ivar…”

His eyes search yours, searching for the answer to a question he has not yet asked,

“I-If I asked you not to do this, if I…if I asked you for more time…” He leaves the words hanging between you, and you blink past helpless tears. He knows the answer, you know the answer.

Thankfully, you don’t have to remind him -and yourself- of the world you live in, of the lives you were meant to live, because the door to the kitchen opens and Aslaug walks through.

You keep your eyes firmly set on the tray before you, even though you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you, demanding an answer. When he realizes he will not get one, he grunts, a clenched fist hitting the counter once before he walks away.

“I’m sorry.” You offer the matriarch as she keeps her all-seeing eyes on you, but Aslaug offers a smile. A fake one, but a smile nonetheless.

“The cold gets to Ivar, it makes him irritable. It is not your fault.” She soothes, but the smile you offer her in thanks still trembles. You both know these are lies you are sharing with one another, and though it makes you falter and stumble, Aslaug moves gracefully from one lie to the next.

“I’ll-…” You point behind you, to the living room, but the woman shakes her head.

“Surely you have time to help me with this?” She asks. It feels like walking into a wolf’s den when you nod your head and approach her.

“Of course.”

She watches raptly as you assist her in preparing the Yule Log, and you focus on doing your best to keep your hands from trembling.

“For someone that doesn’t follow the Gods, you know a lot about tradition, girl.”

“I…It was the least I could do, learning about what is important to your family, to Sigurd.” You offer, and whatever she -who always has the look of someone that sees beyond what normal eyes can- can sense in your words makes Aslaug stop.

She turns to you, and surprises you with a hand on your cheek. The woman towards over you, but the gentleness in her touch, the warmth in her eyes, they help you to not feel threatened.

“Still loving the world that hurts you, sweet thing?”

“It’s all I know how to do.”

Aslaug’s smile is almost sad when she looks into your eyes, “To love, yes, I know. Wish I saw that sooner,” You don’t know what to answer to that, so you offer her only a shaky smile and a shrug. Aslaug chuckles gently, “And you love my son, don’t you?”

The terrifying thought that she knows what she’s doing when not saying any names, the realization nothing gets past her and neither did whatever is between you and Ivar, it all settles in your stomach with a dead weight.

Still, whether she asks about Sigurd or Ivar, the answer is the same.

“Yes.”

One as a friend, a partner, a man you can learn to respect and build a life alongside of. The other, as everything you ever wanted, as someone that will always make you wonder about the ‘what if’s.

She shakes off whatever takes a hold of her, and before you can ask what she means, why it pains her, she steps back from you and turns her back to you.

“You know, Ragnar isn’t the only one in this family with an eye for business. I was once in the same position you are now, the heiress to an empire,” Aslaug’s smile seems to thaw as she hands you a refilled glass of wine to match hers. Resting her backside on the counter behind her, she continues, “My parents were able to teach me a few valuable lessons before their death.

She grabs your left hand, stopping you. Her eyes look deeply into yours, but her thumb rolls your engagement ring on your finger.

“Like how to understand when I can’t make any more moves. And when I can change the wording in a deal to make it favor me.

Your lips part, you think to say something, but Aslaug stops you with a smile.

“Let’s hope you’ve learned the same lessons, my dear.”

____

Ubbe is dancing with Asa standing on his feet, and you watch with a smile on your face as the family enjoys time together, and celebrates the holidays in their own way.

A part of you misses the Christmas lights, the decorations you’d help your parents put up when you were a kid. A part of you misses how simple life was back then, how in this time of year you could forget there was a world past the snow drifting down and the warmth of a hearth and a home.

Ivar comes right up to you, but doesn’t sit next to you, choosing to remain standing.

“Grab your coat,” He orders, and at your confused frown, he rolls his eyes and amends, “Please.”

The most insincere please in the history of pleases, but you know you get more than most, so you don’t comment on it.

Still, you have to ask, “Why?”

“I-…a surprise,” He says, and insists you move with a gesture of his head, “Come on.”

You follow him to the small house the Lothbroks have by the pool, a cozy little home of big windows. When Ivar motions for you to go in ahead of him, a part of you is suspicious, but you still skip your way inside and try not to ask questions as to how it is so warm here when it should be vacant.

Ivar turns the lights on, and you find in the middle of the living room a Christmas tree.

The tree is bare, but still lively and familiar.

You turn to Ivar with tears in your eyes, because you cannot help it.

“You did this for me?”

“You love your Christmas,” He mumbles, embarrassed at the reaction his -to some, uncharacteristic- thoughtfulness got out of you. “I figured you deserved to have some of it with you here.”

“Did you buy Christmas lights?” You ask softly, almost moving up and down in the balls of your feet in excitement, eyeing the bags on a chair nearby.

Ivar chuckles, endeared, and nods, “Go ahead, Princess.”

You skip your way to the bags, quickly looking over the goods and already planning on how to decorate it, how to make it look pretty, how to make it yours.

You don’t truly know how long you spend on it, gleefully putting up Christmas lights, and little ornaments. During the whole time you spent excitedly decorating the tree, you can feel Ivar’s eyes on you, and when you look back at him you find him staring with a strange softness in his gaze.

You choose not to think too much on it, and instead ask his opinion on the decorations, that he gives gruffly and with a very poor attempt at making you believe that -either because Christmas grew on him, which you find very unlikely, or because of your own happiness- he isn’t happy to be here.

____

You smile at the warm and twinkling lights, and burrow closer to Ivar’s warmth, refusing to take your eyes off the dancing lights and refusing to put your feet back on the ground.

Refusing to step out of the fantasy that this could be your life.

Ivar shifts his position, and you lift your head from the juncture between his neck and shoulder and meet his eyes in question.

His eyes give away so much, always have, at least to you. And now they reflect the warm sparkle of the Christmas lights, and they reflect hesitation, fear, uncertainty, love.

Before you can ask what is wrong, Ivar leans in, his hand previously around you tangling in your hair as his lips claim yours.

His kiss is always demanding, but this time it holds desperation in the way Ivar begs for your lips to part with his own, it holds an urgency in the way his tongue dances with yours, it holds a ragged edge in the shaky breath that he lets out through his nose, it holds a goodbye in the way he ends the kiss as if forcing himself to pull away from you.

You try getting your breath under control and your voice to be yours again, but he’s so close, and warm, and yours; and all you want to do is kiss him again.

Kiss him again, and make the furrow in his brow, the pain in his eyes, go away. Kiss him again, and pretend you are not living on borrowed time.

So you do.

You kiss him, and take control of the kiss, and make him groan lightly against your mouth when you tug on his hair, and whimper his name against his own when you straddle him and feel him getting hard underneath you.

When your need for breath makes you part from his kiss, Ivar wastes no time trailing fervent kisses down your neck, panting breaths against the hot skin that he kisses and licks and bites.

You moan his name, forgetting everything but the touch of his lips on your skin, forgetting everything but the scent and taste and feel of him.

Either at the sound of your voice or the grind of your hips against his hardening cock, Ivar’s breath stutters and he breathes your name back at you, voice low.

His brow rests against your collarbone as he takes deep breaths, and your fingers toy at the hair that flows down to his shoulders.

“You know…” He murmurs, pressing a kiss that makes you shiver right on the dip between your collarbones, “There’s nothing I want more right now than marking this pretty neck of yours. Leaving you with…” His teeth scrape against your skin, a tease both for you and himself. Ivar does it a few more times, and moves up your neck again. Your breath shudders past your lips, and you tug on his hair to remind him of what he was saying. You always did love hearing him speak. For all the months you spend apart, his voice telling you what he’d do to you, what he’d have you do to him, is all that keeps you warm. Ivar chuckles, but continues, “Leaving you with my mark all over you, where everyone can see, so…so that they don’t doubt you’re mine.

His hands tighten on your waist, before they travel down, caressing your thighs as he sighs.

“But you’re not, are you? And I can’t…I can’t do any of that. I can’t-…”

You interrupt him before his thoughts can get ahead of him, before he can twist himself into knots about the situation you are both in.

“I am yours. Only yours.” You remind him softly, your lips by his ear. You lean back so you can meet his eyes, and seal your promise with a soft kiss over his lips.

Ivar’s eyes search yours when you pull back, with the same look as before. Uncertain, lost, tender and yet almost sad.

“Marry me.” He whispers, keeping his eyes on yours.

“What?” You squeak, eyes wide. He couldn’t have…he knows that…none of this makes any sense.

“Marry me instead of Sigurd,” He insists, and as if remembering the part he forgot, he curses and hurries to fetch something from his pocket. He offers you a simple but beautiful ring, and swallows, “I-I can make you happier than he ever could, I…I love you.

I know you can, you already do.

I love you too.

But you can’t say any of that, because your breaths are shallow and your head is filled with thoughts and…and you need space.

You scramble to stand, to put distance between the two of you. After a few controlled breaths, you return your eyes to Ivar, whose hand has now fallen back to his lap even if he still holds on to the delicate ring.

He grits his teeth, the obvious tell at the side of his jaw, and he seems to want to divert his eyes from you, but he only blinks and keeps certain eyes on you.

“Your father wants you to marry one of Ragnar’s sons, he doesn’t care who. I…have talked with my father, he agrees that if you want to, we can…” He licks his lips in a nervous gesture, “Mother says any backlash from breaking the engagement can be handled.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“Of course I have, y-you’d be Sigurd’s wife if I didn’t think of something,” A twitch of anger, of uncertainty, of fear, on his face, and then he amends, “You still can be. But I want you to be able to choose.”

Choose me, is what he doesn’t say.

Your heart is lodged in your throat, and you try a few times before you can finally speak,

“Ivar, we haven’t…it’s been only a few months.”

“And it will not work out, that’s what you’re saying?” He huffs, defensive, “It won’t work out if you marry my brother either.”

“I-…this-…”

“Stop thinking of excuses,” He snaps, gritted teeth and hurt written in his eyes, “I’ll handle everything, no matter your answer. Just…just give me an answer, Princess.”

____

It is open ended cause there’s two ends to this, I wanted to leave the choice to you guys! So, follow the link for the epilogue of your choice:

Will you accept the proposal and be bound to Ivar, for better or worse?

Or will you stay with Sigurd, and be content with companionship and friendship?

Hope you liked this, even if it wasn’t very holiday-ey. I wish you all very happy holidays and a great (or decent, after 2020 I’m happy with decent) 2021!!

(Ik it’s like the 13th and I’m gonna be very much around here posting and bothering the whole lot of ya till the holidays and beyond, but holiday fic and all that, ‘twas the perfect time to send good wishes and all. Love ya!)

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar

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