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wwilsonbarness · 11 months

Text

sweetie

pairings: dbf!bucky x y/n reader

summary: after yet another failed date your dad’s best friend Bucky cheers you up..

warnings: smut 18+ only (unprotected sex, oraL (M & F receiving), fingering, creampie, cockwarming, praise kink, safe word(mentioned not used), innocence kink), age gap (reader is early twenties, bucky is mid 40’s), use of pet names, swearing, body shaming (not from reader or bucky), insecure thoughts (reader) - let me know if I missed any :)

word count: 4092

a/n: I’m a slut for dbf!bucky so I had to use him for my first time writing smut🤭 go easy on me please i tried😭

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :)

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist

“Y/n?”

“Yeah! Hey, Ryan right?” He just nodded and sat opposite you, clearly not caring he had shown up 20 minutes late. .

“You’re not what I expected” he tried to play it off with a chuckle but you just looked at him in shock, completely confused.

“What were you expecting?”

“Someone a little.. you know” he pauses for a moment and looks you up and down before continuing, “it doesn’t matter” Before you could question what he meant you hear a familiar voice come from behind you.

“Y/n, how are you sweetheart?” As you go to turn your head you feel a cold hand on your shoulder, instantly telling you who was there.

“Buck! What are you doing here?”

“I’m picking up some dinner on the way home from work, just spotted you two over here and thought I’d say hi” He looks over at your date with a slight smile. Bucky had always been protective over you, ever since he started working with your dad, he’d always be over at your house for some reason or another, but you’d never complain. You’ve secretly been crushing on him for a while now, there was just something about him that you loved, not to mention he was the hottest guy you’ve ever seen.

“Oh right, sorry! This is Ryan, my date” You point your hand towards him, “Ryan, this is Bucky, one of my dad’s friends” Ryan stands up and holds his hand out waiting for Bucky to shake it.

“Nice to meet you Bucky” So he doesn’t lack all respect it seems.

“Call me James” He tightly squeezes Ryan’s hand, maybe too hard as Ryan tries to pull away slightly. You couldn’t help the blush creeping up onto your face. Bucky only introduced himself as James to people he didn’t like, come to think of it you had only heard him introduce himself as James a few times. Once when you brought a boy home in your first year of college, to the creepy neighbours who moved into your street whilst Bucky was over for dinner and one of his colleague’s. He must have a good judge of character because all of those people turned out to be total dicks.

“Well, I won’t take up any more of your time, have a good night you two” He leans down to give you a hug, and whispers into your ear, just loud enough so Ryan can hear. “See you later sweetheart” He turns to Ryan and nods before leaving. You feel your mood drop as he walks away, you were sad that he was leaving, especially with it meaning you were stuck with your sad excuse for a date. You pick up the menu and go to ask what he’s thinking of getting before the waitress interrupts.

“Ready to order?” Before you can respond asking for an extra few minutes Ryan answers for you.

“I’ll have the pasta special and she’ll have the chicken salad.'' You shoot him a confused look, similar to the look the waitress is giving you both. You couldn’t believe he was ordering for you, and ordering you a salad at that. God, you could not wait for this night to be over already.

Surprisingly the conversation from there wasn’t that bad, he asked you about your job to which you explained the recent job you’d gotten as an elementary school teacher. Things were looking up until your food arrived. “I hope you didn’t mind me ordering for you, salad is always a safe choice, you know?”

“Do you have a problem with how I look or something?” He didn’t even seem shocked or embarrassed when you asked.

“I’ve just never dated someone as big as you”

“what?” Was he serious right now? You’d gained a little weight recently due to stress eating but you didn’t think other people would notice, or point it out.

“Do you not think you could lose a few pounds? You’d look so much better, especially with a dress like that on.” You could feel the tears forming in your eyes as he spoke, little droplets gathering on your eyelashes. You tried to stop your voice from shaking before answering him.

“I don’t think this is gonna work out”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “God. Women are so sensitive these days” You didn’t want to show him how he was affecting you so you grab your jacket and walk out without looking back. You’re only outside for a couple minutes before you hear that voice again, along with a car horn. You lift your head up and see Bucky parked just ahead of you.

“You okay sweets?”

“Buck, you’re still here?” you begin to walk towards him.

“Mhm, food took a while to come out. What’s wrong, are you okay?”

You quickly wiped away the tears that were rolling down your cheeks “I’m fine, just wanna get home”

“Hop in, I’ll give you a ride home”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna-“

“Don’t be silly, you know I don’t mind” you force a small smile out before making your way to the passenger side.

“How was your date?” You turn to him with a look that makes it clear it was not a good time.

“He was an ass” His gaze softens on you and he puts his hand onto your thigh and rubs circles over it with his thumb.

“I knew it” He notices you trying to smile and softens his tone, “I’m sorry sweetie, come on I’ll take you home”

“Thank you” He softly squeezes your thigh before moving his hand to focus on driving you home. You missed his touch already, it made you feel safe like you had someone who cared but it also excited you, making your body heat up. You quickly threw that idea out, he was your dads best friend, he would never think of you that way.

Your apartment isn’t far away, the car journey only lasts around 10 minutes. It was a mostly quiet car ride, Bucky didn’t try and make you open up about your date but he was worried, you seemed really upset with whatever had happened. “Are you sure you're okay?”

You tried to answer without letting your shaky voice show but you failed, “I just wanna get in and get changed out of this dress” You rub your hands over your dress to try and make yourself look better, you couldn’t help but think you looked bad after Ryan spoke about you like that. When Bucky parks outside your apartment you sit in silence for a moment, you didn’t want to get out because it meant Bucky would be leaving you. “Do you want to bring your food in? It’ll be cold by the time you get back to yours”

“That would be great, if you don’t mind”

“Course not Buck” You both get out and walk up to your door. Bucky noticed you playing with your dress on the way, “you look real pretty in that dress” You turned to him as he spoke to you, surprised with what he said.

“Really? I thought I liked it too but, I, I don’t know” you trailed off slowly.

“Whatever that asshole said to you, don’t listen to him. You look great”

“Thank you Buck but you really don’t have to say that”

“I mean it sweetheart, you look gorgeous” You smile up at him, a little less forced this time. It takes you a minute to compose yourself and find your keys but you finally manage to unlock the door.

“Sit down, I’ll get you a plate”

“Bring two” he shouts through from the couch to your kitchen.

“Okayy” you're slightly confused but take two plates out the cupboard along with two beers from the fridge, “but why do you need two?”

“So you can have some” you weren’t in the restaurant too long, did you eat anything?”

You were tempted to pretend you weren’t hungry but you really were starving. “Is there enough to share? I left before I could eat my salad”

“Salad? you went to an italian restaurant and ordered salad?" Bucky laughed.

“He ordered for me” Bucky stopped laughing as soon as the words left your mouth, and he started shaking his head.

“What a dick, here” he unpacks his bag of food and lays them on the table in front of you both. “help yourself to as much as you like, lucky for you my eyes are too big for my belly”

“So where'd you find this guy anyway?”

You sat on the sofa for an hour or so and explained the whole story, including everything that happened on the date. By the end of it Bucky was angry, angrier than you’d ever seen him. He pulls his hand up to your face and cups your cheek, “Don’t let some boy make you feel insecure, you don’t need to change for anyone, and anyone would be lucky to have you”

No one had ever spoken to you with such kind words and you could feel the tears forming again, you tried to play it off. You were embarrassed for being so emotional. “I’m sorry, just no one ever speaks about me like that”

“You deserve to hear it everyday, and I really mean that”

“Thank you buck, and thank you for sharing your food.”

“Anytime sweetie”

“I’m gonna go get changed and then I’ll clean this up okay?”

“Sure, take your time”

Only a couple minutes pass before Bucky hears you calling his name from your bedroom.

“Y/n? are you alright” worry had set in fast, faster than it probably should’ve but he cared about you alot. he practically ran through, only stopping when he walked into you.

“Where's the fire jesus” he puts his hands on your shoulders to try and steady you both.

“I heard you calling my name, are you alright?” you couldn’t help but smile at his concern for you, it was nice to have someone who cared for you.

“I’m okay, my hair’s just stuck in my zip, can you help me with it?” you reply as you walk back into your room, Bucky following you close behind.

“Yeah, come here” you turn your back to him and lift your hair that isn’t stuck out of the way”

“We might just have to cut it off” you playfully slapped his arm.

“You wouldn’t dare” he places his hands to your hair and begins to work its way out, the touch of his fingers sends shivers all over you, you try to stifle the moan you make but you can tell you failed.

“I'm just kidding don’t worry, there you go that should be it out” he says but he doesn’t move his hands. instead he turns you around and looks into your eyes. “You really are beautiful, especially in this dress” he loves to lean into your neck and whispers quietly, “even if I would prefer to see it on the floor” Yet again you couldn’t stop the blush appearing onto your cheeks, did he really say that?

You pull your head back a bit, Bucky starts to think he made you uncomfortable but it was quite the opposite, you pull his face towards you and push your lips together, it was a deep kiss, slow with an intensity you hadn’t felt before. You begin to pull away slowly, scared of overstepping but he pulls you back up against him, his hand cupping your hair, not too tight so you could pull away if you wanted to. His lips were soft, different to what you expected but it felt good. He pulls away slightly, but you can feel his grin against you.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that” he says whilst catching his breath.

“Really?” he hums in agreement. “What else did you want to do?” you feel his grin grow even more. He pushes you back a bit towards your bed and you follow him.

“You sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure Bucky, please”

“Just say red if you want to stop, okay?” you nod your answer. “I need words sweetie”

“Yes buck”

“Good girl” you can feel your panties getting wetter the more he talks to you, you desperately need him to touch you.

“Bucky please” he could hear the desperation in your voice and it made him laugh, he loved having this effect on you.

“What do you want, sweetheart? tell me what you want me to do to you” You got shy all of a sudden and it took a minute to find your words.

“I want you to touch me” Bucky trails his hand down your body and stops between your legs.

“Here?” he rubs circles over your clit through your dress making you moan and grab into his shoulder.

“Fuck.. please Bucky” he takes his hand away, you pout up at him.

“Take off your dress. and lie down” you do as he says, as he watches you with a grin on his face. It doesn’t take you long before you're laying down and Bucky crawls on top of you. He starts to kiss your neck, slowly making his way down to your breasts. “Can I leave this on?” he asks pointing to your bra, you just nod. Thank god you chose this lingerie set today. “You look so sexy in it, making me so hard baby” You let out a little laugh at him,”You’ve gone all shy on me sweets”

“I'm sorry” Bucky shakes his head.

“Don’t apologise, it’s cute” He continues kissing you slowly, stopping when gets to the band of your panties. He begins to slowly take them off, “still okay?”

“Yes, please buck. I need you” you whisper to him.

He throws your panties onto the floor and opens your legs, biting his lips as he sees your pussy glistening in front of him. “Such a pretty pussy”

He lowers his head down and licks his lips before rubbing his fingers over your pussy, collecting the slick already gathered there. He brings his fingers up to his mouth and slowly licks them. “You taste so sweet baby” you feel your cheeks flush at his compliments, “Sweetest thing I ever tasted” he speaks before lowering his head back down.

He presses his finger to your clit and pushes down a little, making you whimper. “Bucky please” you try to roll your hips up to get him closer to you. “Please buck i need you”

He doesn’t say anything but in the next second you feel his tongue against you. “Fuck Bucky” it was so much better than you were expecting.

“Aw sweets, you're so wet. Is this all for me?” you nod again, biting your lip. He had hardly touched you and you already felt better than you ever have with anyone else.

You tried to close your legs to escape the overwhelming feeling but Bucky pushed them open again and looked up to you. this was something you’d dreamt of seeing, having him looking up to you from between your legs. you couldn’t believe this was really happening.

“Gotta keep them open baby, so I can make you feel good” you nod down at him, as you nod he teases his finger around your pussy making you throw your head back.

He lowers his head again and brings his tongue to your clit and begins to roll his tongue over it. You start to move around, the feeling is too much, he lifts his arm up to your stomach and presses down slightly to stop you from squirming. He uses his other hand to tease your pussy, “Fuck, your so tight sweetie”, he lifts himself up a little and brings his hand to your mouth and holds out two fingers. “Spit on them” you hesitate at first before dropping your spit onto them.

When he gets back done to your legs he lightly blows on your clit, making you moan out. He begins to tease your hole and starts putting one finger in, slowly, “Fuck, i can’t wait to get my cock in you baby, your so tight” he pushes his finger in and out slowly a few times before adding in another. You can’t help the moan that leaves your lips. you don’t care how loud you’re being, it feels too good.You could feel the ache in your pussy getting stronger, your orgasm fast approaching, you’d never come this fast before.

“Bucky, please don’t stop” he doesn’t stop, he speeds his fingers up feeling you tightening around them. “Oh.. Fuck. Bucky please I'm gonna- I’m gonna come. Don’t stop” you throw your hands around you, grabbing onto the covers and squeezing them as hard as you can.

“Come for me baby” a few more thrusts of his fingers and you come, your eyes roll back, your orgasm leaving you whimpering, Bucky drops his head down and licks your come. “How do you feel sweetie?”

“Good” is all you can manage, still trying to catch your breath.

“You did so good baby” he crawls back up to you and plants a kiss on your lips, you can taste yourself on him. You feel his cock through his jeans touching your stomach and reach down for it.

“Bucky?” you ask shyly.

“Yeah baby?” he pushes your hair out of your face and cups your cheek.

“Can I touch you?” you slightly squeeze his bulge as you ask, batting your eyelashes up at him.

He chuckles a little at how shy you are. “Of course you can sweets” he lays down beside you and guides you to sit up beside him. you start to unzip his jeans pull them down before he lifts his hips up making it easier for you to remove his clothes. When his jeans are off you see his cock jump up, it was a lot bigger than you had ever seen before. nerves started to slowly set in, what if you couldn’t make him feel as good as he made you?

It was as if Bucky could read your mind, he saw the concern in your eyes and started to reassure you. “Sweetie, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to”

“I want to” you reply quickly before quieting down and slowly continuing “I just don’t know if it will be as good as you made me feel, I don’t wanna disappoint you”

“You could never disappoint me baby, I'll help you if you need it okay?” you nod your head, and trail your fingers up his thighs before reaching for him. You grab the base of his cock, your hand doesn’t reach around it fully so you bring your other hand beside it. “Fuck baby, that already feels so good” his praise gave you a bit more confidence. Quickly gathering some spit in your mouth, you drop it down onto the tip of his cock, and use your thumb to rub circles over it. He was feeling so sensitive he couldn’t stop his groans leaving him, “fuck Y/N, keep doing that” you did just that, whilst your other hand slowly rubs up and down his cock.

“Can I put it in my mouth?” Bucky's a bit taken aback by your sudden confidence but he doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“Please do” you move closer to him and settle between his legs, you lower your head down and lick his tip gently before bringing your tongue down to the base and working your way back up slowly. “Fuck, baby you keep doing that and your gonna make me come.” His praise was making your cheeks flush and he noticed, so he kept going. “Baby you're doing so good, it feels so. fuck. so good” You begin to put his cock in your mouth, going as far down as you could before bobbing your head up and down. Bucky places his hand on your head and slightly pushes your head down further, “fuck sweetheart, your gonna make me come.”

You speed up, wrapping your hands around his shaft where your mouth can’t reach, Bucky was moaning and whining loudly beside you, his breathing was speeding up. You could tell he was about to come, you wanted him to come in your mouth, you needed to taste him.

“Baby, I’m gonna come, oh god I’m gonna come” he expected you to pull away from him but you keep going until his come shoots down your throat. “Fuck baby, fuck that was good” you look up to him, come dripping out your mouth and smile. “You look so pretty covered in my come sweetheart” He smirks at you, making you blush yet again. You use your finger to collect the come dripping out your mouth and suck on it, which makes Bucky’s cock twitch.

You look down and see that he’s still hard, so you crawl up to him and whisper into his ear “could you fuck me?” so quietly he hardly hears you.

“Sweetie you gotta speak up” you pout at him, but repeat yourself. You could feel your pussy throbbing, you needed him inside you.

“I want you to fuck me Bucky, please” He turns to you

“Lie down” you immediately do as he says. “I’m gonna fuck you like the good, dirty girl you are” he grabs his cock and stroked himself a couple times to get it ready for you. “Remember to use the safe word if you need me to stop okay?”

“I remember, but please just fuck me. I need you” he brings his cock to your pussy, pushing just the tip in. “Go slow please, you're bigger than I’ve ever had” Bucky felt a hint of jealousy over the thought of anyone else being inside you but he pushed it aside and focused on you.

“I’ll be gentle don’t worry sweetheart” He brings his tip out and pushes slowly back in a couple times, letting you adjust to him. When it becomes easier he goes in deeper, nearly halfway in. You moan in the mix of pain and pleasure, he was stretching

you but it felt good.

“Fuck Bucky, you feel so good, keep going please” He pushes in further, rubbing circles over your clit as he does, making it easier for him to fit inside you.

“Shit baby, you're so tight. squeezing my cock so good” He hadn’t even fucked you properly yet and you could already feel your orgasm coming close.

“Bucky fuck me please, just fuck me” he bottoms out inside of you, hitting a spot you didn’t even realise existed within you. “OH my god Bucky, keep going. please. It feels so good”

“Such a good girl for me, taking my whole cock” your moans make him fuck you harder, chasing the release he so desperately needed “So good sweets, you feel so good”

“Fuck, Bucky. duck me harder please Bucky”

“You want more?” he thrusts into you harder as he says each word. “Fuck, you’re gonna milk my cock” you can feel your orgasm coming at you with full force.

“Buck I’m gonna -fuck I’m gonna come, don’t stop please”

“Aw baby you gonna come all over my cock?” you nod your head, unable to form words at this point “oh fuck. you're squeezing me so tight I’m gonna come. You want me to come inside you? Want me to fill you up?”

You nod quickly, trying to bring yourself to speak. “Please, please Bucky come inside me please”

“Always using your manners, sweets, even when you're so drunk on my cock hmm?” You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you.

“Bucky please” you were desperate for your release at this point. He lifts your hands and puts them either side of you, each of his hands pinning yours down and towering himself over you.

“Oh fuck. Come with me baby. Come with me” He’s thrusting into you so hard, hitting that spot again and again. Your legs begin to shake as your orgasm crashes through you. “Fuckk.. Oh my god Bucky”

“So. Fucking. Good.” he replies, just as his cock crashes into your pussy. “You milked me so good, such a good girl baby”

Bucky goes to pull out of you but you stop him, “stay like this please? Just for a little bit”

He cuddles into you as close as he can without moving out of you, and places a kiss on your forehead.

“Anything for you sweetheart”

#wwilsonbarness #sweetie #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #buckybarnes x y/n #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #marvel #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fanfic

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badnoahmens · 6 months

Text

You’re Mine

Noah Sebastian x Reader

3.6k words.

A/N: jealous Noah has me feeling strong feelings. Smutty shit so 18+ only. Wrote this instead of working on higher priority WIPs.

You twist the handle for the hot water off, steam being the only thing that filled the small shower around you now. After the long day you had, a nice, hot shower was the only thing that seemed to help take the edge off. With a sigh, you step from the warmth surrounding you, reaching for the towel and swiftly tucking in the side to preserve your modesty.

As you exit from the bathroom, you swipe meaninglessly through your phone, scrolling through photos posted from friends and the odd targeted advertisement. With a small ding a new notification graces the top of your screen. An old friend of yours, Patrick, that you had kept in touch with throughout the years, had recently reached out and was sending memes he thought you would like. Seeing as the two of you had similar jobs, they were mostly focused on that. Innocent enough, but it wasn’t worth looking at now.

Without taking much notice of your surroundings, you walk between the bathroom and into the kitchen in search of a snack to quell your cravings. Noah was leaning on the counter in the middle of the kitchen, elbows propping up with one hand curled into a fist under his chin, the other scrolling through something on his phone. His eyes were slightly glazed over, a side effect of the doom scrolling that he often fell into. You side-eye him as you walk past, pulling an unimpressed face as you responsibly reach for an apple.

The bite you take makes a loud crunch that is the only sound that breaks the silence in the room. The chewing that follows is equally as loud and disturbing, echoing as an irritating wet, mushy slurp. You kept your eyes on Noah as you took a second loud bite from the apple, knowing full well he loathes the sound.

Another scroll with his thumb flashes bright colours and fast-moving videos on his phone, still unaware of your presence.

A third bite of the apple, this one finally earning a reaction. His head slowly turns, pivoting on the hand that he still has balancing under his chin, his eyes landing on you as you take a fourth, menacingly slow and obnoxiously loud bite.

And then it is a stare-down. You refuse to let up, keeping a blank expression on your face as you grind down, meticulously masticating the organic surgery fruit. Noah squinted his eyes, knowing full well that it was your intention to bother him. He clicks his phone so the screen locks, and places it gently on the counter.

“Alright! That’s it!” he finally calls as you lift the apple, almost gone now, to your mouth dramatically slowly for another bite, although you never get to take it. Noah stands and strides over to you, snatching the apple from your hands, tossing it into the bin that sat in the corner of the room. It was immediately after that you were tossed over his shoulder, flailing in a panic. He turned on his heels and speed-walks to the bedroom. You bounced slightly as the pace he held wasn’t one that was all that graceful. He was laughing maniacally at your feeble attempts to squirm from his grasp. You would never tell him that you weren’t actually trying.

With a jostle and a thud, he dumps you on your back, the soft mattress bouncing below you. You fight playfully, trying your best to catch Noah’s fast and nimble hands as they darted in and out, tickling your sides. His smile is palpable, his hair wavering from side to side as he adjusts his plan of attack every time you twist and turn under him. He has his knees pinned by your sides, grey sweats and a black t-shirt lingering over you as his colourful, decorated arms and neck looked ever so enticing. You couldn't help but notice the way that his pants twitched as he continued to hold you pinned down on the bed.

In a sudden change of heart, his hands stop, grasping your wrists and holding them above your head in one of his hands. He drops his face so that it is an inch from yours. His breath wafted over your face and you smiled, glancing between his intense gaze and watching the way he licked his lips.

“How was your shower? Did it fix your bad day?” He asked. His head tilted to the side slightly. The question sounded innocent enough, right?

“I’m still a little tense,” you reply. And you were honest with your response. It was a long day. When you arrived home, your bags were quickly dumped on the floor by the door haphazardly, a huff leaving you in an attempt to exult some of the emotion that had pent up all day. Working with kids was difficult on a normal day, but there must have been something in the air today for them to be as wild as they were. Noah knew you were in a less-than-ideal mood. Bless his soul, he did try and help, but the best thing you could do was to wash the day away. Now, even after a shower, the aftereffects of a bad day were still lingering despite being only towel-clad underneath your boyfriend.

“Turn over” he motions with his head, releasing your hands from his vice grip allowing you to lay on your stomach instead. In the midst of this motion, he tweaks his fingers under the top of where your towel sat, tugging at the tuck that held it secure. You had a sharp inhale as the cold air hit your bare skin, still warm and slightly damp from your shower.

You heard Noah hum behind you and you glance over your shoulder back at him, but he doesn't see your face. Instead, his eyes are trailing down your body, pupils dilating when he sets his sight on your ass.

Noah was an ass man for sure. And he was obsessed with yours. He would always be so handsy with you, the odd playful slap here and there, tucking his hand into your back pocket to cop a feel when he probably shouldn't be, even his favourite sex positions were the ones where it was front and centre in his view.

You tucked your hands under your chin, still twisting so that you could see Noah in your peripherals. His hands started to glide over your back, down your sides, following the sweet contours of your body. Noah let out a low growl from deep within, but you’re certain he wasn’t aware of half the noises he was making; the deep breaths, slight gasps and quiet moans.

Using all of his restraint, Noah tears his gaze from your ass and lifts his body so that he is kneeling over you, hands now placed on your shoulders. He could still feel the tension in the knots that had built up over time, forming firm ridges across your shoulders and back. Tattooed digits started to knead into the tender muscles twisting under your skin. The pressure mixed with the slow circles made you close your eyes and let out an involuntary moan. Noah hummed and smiled to himself, knowing the power this had over you. You were such a sucker for massages, and could never deny having Noah;s hands all over your body.

He continued to try his best to break down the clusters of tension, twisting and rubbing at the bundles that had gathered over a long time. Your head would roll from one side to the other, allowing Noah to work into different areas and use different pressures to make some kind of difference. Noah would be lying if he said he didn’t love it too. Having his hands all over you? Making you feel good? Knowing full well that this often led to something far more exciting? Yes please.

It was at this moment, as you were about to be lost to Noah’s touch and oblivious to the world, when your phone dinged again. Lifting it up to your face, another notification from your old friend lit up the phone that was strewn carelessly on the bed next to you.

Noah’s hands stopped.

“Who’s Patrick’?” Noah asks, the slighted hint annoyance in this voice. You readjusted your position so you could see Noah’s face, his expression blank. You tried to wriggle so you could twist from under him, but his legs tensed and squeezed you so you were stuck, completely at his mercy.

“He’s an old friend. Has a similar job. Been sending me some memes about work. He sent me one earlier but I didn’t respond so he’s probably sending another” you answer.

“Sending you memes, huh? He does this often?” Noah’s leg muscles were still tense beside you as he sat back on his haunches, warm calloused hands now retreating from your body.

“I mean, a little bit. He reached out last week after he started a new job with someone I used to know.” You pause, Noah’s demeanour was changing before your very eyes. Now, he seemed a little standoffish.

Noah makes a “Hmff” noise in response.

“Noah?” He doesn’t respond. “Are you jealous?”

No response again.

“Noah” you call once more.

“You’re seriously moody because I have been talking to an old friend?” You prop your head up on your hands in an effort to get a better view of Noah. Although you could see his face, he had turned to look across the room beyond you, and he seemed perplexed.

“Fine. Don’t talk to me. That's totally fine” you say sarcastically, shifting underneath him to slip out from his legs still perched beside you. Before you could free yourself entirely, Noah leaves. He stands and crosses the room, disappearing into your walk-in robe. Sounds of shuffling items then follows.

You twist and sit up, pulling the towel back around you. Your gaze was down at trying to hitch the material back into a safe tuck as you ignored the kerfuffle Noah was making when he walked back into the room.

Just as you are satisfied with the towel adjustments, Noah’s hands are on you, pushing you back down onto the bed. He hovers over you again, but now his eyes were dark and his motions were very intentional.

You go to speak, but Noah shakes his head and stands again, holding a firm grip on your hips so that you swivel to a new angle, diagonal across the bed, and spinning so that you land back onto your stomach, just like before.

Your eyes glance up in front of you and you see what the commotion Noah was making before. A full body-length mirror was now sat up leaning against the wall, allowing for your reflection to stare right back at you. You look up at Noah through your eyelashes in the mirror, raising an eyebrow quizzically at you, trying to figure out the expression Noah has spread all over his face. That is, until it hits. It’s a look of desire.

He proceeds to crawl over you, leaning forward on closed fists so that they land on either side of your head before rising to be on his knees. Illustrated hands that contrast with the towel hitch around your hips, yanking them up fast and forcefully so that your knees fall under you, perching your ass high.

You couldn’t help but have a smirk plastered on your face; Noah on the other hand, still doing his best to hold a poker face. His gaze wanders down, allowing his hands to rub possessively over your cheeks under the fuzzy material. They dance lightly over your hips, then begin the trace lines on the insides of your thighs. You let out a high-pitched whimper as an automatic response. You had no control over what influence Noah had on your body, let alone when you were like this.

Noah’s eyes didn’t leave your face, so you teasingly leant back, pressing your skin closer to him. Your breath started to quicken, hitching in your throat when his nimble fingers flicked at the towel causing it to slip down, exposing your body once again. Noah struggled to keep his composure as he took the sights, expression faltering slightly and his hands moved to your folds immediately feeling the warm wetness on his fingertips.

Your eyes slipped closed, relishing in the lightest of touches that Noah was gracing you with, that was until one hand came down with a hard slap on your ass, and the fingers teasing you were gone.

Your eyes shoot open and your body jolts in reaction, except Noah clamps his hands on your hips and pulls you back closer to him.

“Keep them open” he growls, and you watch the way his mouth twitches as his fingers return to your folds, one hand grabbing a handful of the tender skin of your ass cheek perched up in his direction. You lock eyes in the mirror. “I want you to see who’s you are,” he continued.

Slowly, one finger glides into your pussy. It might not be enough, but it’s something. You rock back in the slightest way, and Noah’s grip tightens on your ass. He gives you a warning glance, before his eyes move to his digit disappearing into your folds. It curls up inside you, like he was beckoning you to come closer. The caressing on your inside walls slowly pumps out, and then in again. A rhythm started to build and he added a second finger.

Starting to feel more full, your eyes begin to close, but you remember the demands before they fully shut. Instead, you peer through half-closed slits and admire the way Noah’s hips were starting to grind against you. There was a mound growing in his pants, grazing against your inner thigh, telling you that he is loving this.

“Does that feel good?” He murmurs from behind you, and his eyes are back on yours in the mirror. You nod and hum in response, sliding a hand back behind you to reach for Noah. He takes your hand, grasps it firmly, and places it on your back. It’s feels unnatural, but not unformatabme. Your fingers intertwine as acts almost like an anchor. For you? For Noah? You’re not sure, maybe even both of you.

“Say my name” he demands.

“N….” You start, and he flicks his wrist, stopping any ability to control your voice. Instead, a moan escapes.

“What was that?” He whispers, twisting his fingers again in the same motion.

“Nooaaahhhhh…” the end of his name escapes your mouth as a sigh, as though it could have very well been your last breath.

Noah’s fingers disappear from inside you, slipping out and bringing with it some of the wetness that is all but dripping from your pussy.

“What do you want?” He asks. But you can’t speak. The emptiness turns into an ache. All you can do is stare at him in the mirror and watch as he slides his fingers into his mouth, letting drips of your own liquids run down his chin. His eyes are blown wide and dark with desire, and he notices the way your legs twitch closer when his tongue graces the space between his two fingers, curling up to clean them of any remnants of you on them.

“I- I want you” you are able to stammer out between the heavy breaths.

He grins a devilish grin and shifts his weight, struggling to jam down his sweats to his thighs with one hand, ignoring his own wet patch of precum that had soaked through the front of them. His hand then lands on the outside of your thigh, in the crease where it meets your hip, as he steadies himself. You can feel the tip of his cock nudge at your entrance, and then he pauses.

His dark eyes are locked in on yours, looking through his eyelashes, and moving his eyes, slowly rocks his hips forward. The pressure is achingly slow. He is teasing you. Letting you know that he is in control here.

Your free hand grasps at fbe sheets below you, trying in some way to let out the tension that is building. The other hand still intertwined with Noah’s behind you tightens in grip. He gives his own squeeze back, almost as a reassurance. Your mouth falls open and eyebrows twist, anticipation causing you to be entirely out of control if your own body movements. You feel him inside, yet it’s the lack of rhythmic motion that is missing.

Your hips buck forward involuntarily, something deep within you just pleading for more friction between you and Noah, and he picks up on it. He begins to drag his cock out of you, placing his free hand on the inside of your thigh, tapping it with grace as though to say ‘open more’. You do as you’re told, shifting the weight to one leg and the other swings out to make a wide gap between your legs. Noah doesn’t hesitate after that.

His shaft is hammering back into you. In and out like a jackhammer. The fingers of his free hand now sitting dangerously and teasingly close to the tight ring of muscle that sat between your asscheecks. You look at his face in the mirror; a sheen of sweat building over his face after only a minute of fucking, his brows furrowed as he stares intently at the work he is doing on your behind. Nails dig into the tender flesh of your derriere as Noah tilts his head back.

You feel the white hot glow begin to burn inside you. Noah is not taking any chances tonight, his hand leaving yours on your back to tangle with the mess of hair on your head. It was already knotted, but Noah intertwined his fingers with it, tugging with little force to bring your chin up.

Your legs were shaking at this point, and it could have been from the pleasure or the absolute hammering they were receiving. There was a growl from Noah which drowned out the hum of the tv from the other room, but you couldn’t tell what he actually said. The skin on skin slapping sounding even sloppier by the second. He was getting close, he was starting to fumble over his rhythm, but he could see that you just weren’t as close to your release as he was.

His hand leaves the tangle of your messy hair, keeping his eye contact in the mirror, and lands on the underside of your belly. You can feel him pull towards him, another silent instruction. Pushing on your arms, you felt weak. They shivered underneath you and you rose to your elbows, then up on your palms.

“More. Against me” Noah hums through a tight jaw. The pounding from behind you was starting to slow and you knew he couldn’t hold on for much longer.

With the right shift of weight, you right yourself on your knees, feeling the sweaty, warm sensation of Noah’s heaving body on your back. His arm wrapped around your chest, settling with an open palm grasping needily at your breast. He grabbed, twisted and pinched at your nipple, caressing what he could as he tried his best to focus on bringing you closer. And boy, was it working.

The new position gave you a full frontal view of what state you were in. The mirror was a portal to a world of pleasure and sex, and the only ones who lived there were you and Noah. Nothing else around you mattered. Nothing else around you even existed in this moment.

Your eyes clamp shut as the build of your orgasm was teetering at the edge, threatening to unfurl and throw sensations through your body that only Noah could achieve. There was a tightening around your neck, and as your eyes open, he land on Noah’s is tense stare from behind you.

“I said keep them open” he demanded. “I want you to watch you cum. Watch what I can do to you.”

All you can do is nod. He was never this dominant, but he must have been really ticked off. He had a point to prove, and he was delaying his own paradise just to make it know.

“You’re mine.”

“I’m yours” you whisper.

The hammering of his cock inside you, slamming deep inside of you, paired with the hand that had just dropped to your clit was the magic that brought your orgasm to its peak. There was a flood of heat that washed through you. If it wasn’t for Noah’s arms, you would have collapsed right there in front of him. Your body jerked involuntarily as Noah let you ride out the electricity. His eyes were on your face, watching as you cried out with his name, hands desperately grabbing at his arm twisted around you.

His muscles flexed as he held you up, knowing that you needed him to stay this close, but he couldn’t help but give up the fight of holding back his own orgasm. With a wet jerk of his hips, he slipped from you just in time to let the streams of hot white cum leave him, landing on the lower part of your back. You fall forward, landing with your arms by your face, and let Noah release onto you. You watch as his own eyes close, failing to follow his own rules, and then collapses beside you.

It was minutes before either of you even got your breaths back into a regular pattern. You watch Noah lay on his back, his palm resting on his forehead, and a sex-drunk smile on his face. He turns to look at you, letting out a low chuckle.

“I’d like to see Patrick’s memes beat that.”

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writing-intheundercroft · 6 months

Text

The Night Shift

AO3 Link

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian x F!MC

Word Count: 10,206

Rating: T (just some smooches but plenty of angst)

Summary: You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

A/N: Took a break from my long fics this week to deliver a long angsty Seb one shot. I heard Phoebe Bridgers cover Night Shift and became feral over it. Perhaps it needs a smutty part two???

Night One

“I’m so glad you were able to slip away from work for a bit.” Poppy says, pouring tea into your cup.

You smile up at the brunette girl, who still wears her hair in a cropped bob, albeit a bit more fashionable now that you’re in your twenties. You miss Poppy’s presence in your life, but her career as a mazoologist and yours as a lead healer in the intensive care unit of St. Mungo’s has your schedules rarely crossing.

“It’s nice to be out in the sunlight,” you say coyly, lifting the cup to your mouth. It's the truth–you haven’t been out to tea with a friend, dressed in a pretty lace gown in what feels like ages. Your career usually has you in a tightly pulled bun, hair out of your face to focus on your patients, with bloodied aprons. Magic can heal most ailments, but your ancient abilities make you the best bet for the most gravely wounded. So much so that you’ve worked six nights a week every week for the past five years, sleeping during the day to make it to your overnight shifts at the hospital.

With few exceptions.

But there’s coverage today, giving you a rare Saturday afternoon off to enjoy the warm spring day. You and Poppy are sitting outside a tea shop in Diagon Alley, catching up on all things personal, while people watching. It’s strange, you think, to be surrounded by so many people. You leave for your shift at seven thirty in the evening, when most people are getting home for dinner, and return to your flat far after everyone has left for work.

Poppy had just started telling you a story about a wild herd of manticores she’d encountered on her travels abroad, when a familiar face walked up to your table.

“Merlin’s beard, I never thought I’d see the likes of you two ever again,” Andrew Larson grins.

“Andrew,” Poppy smiles. “It’s good to see you.”

There are obligatory kisses on the cheek as the handsome Ravenclaw pulls up a chair. “What are you doing in town, Poppy?”

“Visiting my gran, of course.” She tilts her head towards you. “And catching up with friends.”

“And you, it’s like you’re back from beyond the grave.” Andrew shifts his attention, teasing you. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just busy keeping people from their graves, that’s all.”

“I’ve heard.” Andrew elbows you. “Youngest lead healer in all of St. Mungo’s.”

“Yet being the youngest earned me the night shift.” You wrinkle your nose. “And very few days off.”

“How’s the auror office doing?” Poppy quips, leaning her chin into her palm.

Andrew shrugs. “Busy; we’re working on a big case right now, but we finally got a few hours off to enjoy lunch. I was just heading over to the Cauldron, meeting Sallow and Clopton for a bite.”

You swallow thickly. It’s been five years since you last spoke to Sebastian Sallow. At this point, you can’t exactly remember how it ended, except that the two of you had screamed at one another. You were fairly certain you’d thrown a book at his head, and he’d knocked over your favorite mug in the process. You still had it, the handle broken off, now used as a quill holder at your desk.

“Oi, Larson! Quit flirting, we’ve just gotten a message. All hands on deck at the office.”

Both you and Poppy turn to the voice; Everett Clopton is standing a few paces away, wearing a smart suit. He still has his gold wire glasses, but he’s grown into them. He’s wearing a hat, tipping the brim to you both in acknowledgement.

You hate the way your breath hitches when you see their companion. Sebastian is also dressed well, sporting a tweed three piece suit, shiny black dress shoes, and a gold auror badge attached to his lapel. He meets your gaze briefly before looking back up to Andrew, who’s moving the chair back to its proper table.

“Emergency meeting,” Sebastian utters gloomily. “Ruined a good lunch.”

Your stomach twists at the sound of his voice. It’s no more than six words, but your insides feel like a wet towel being wrung out. And Sebastian doesn’t even have the decency to look at you, avoiding eye contact with the person he considered his best friend for three years. The audacity of him, to completely ignore the person who once held his fate in their hands–you feel the bile rising in your throat, swallowing down the anger that once consumed you.

No, you won’t let a tiny interaction with Sebastian ruin five years of hard work. You stare at the cutlery on the table, willing him to leave.

Andrew Larson sighs, rapping his knuckles against the table. “It was good seeing you girls,” he smiles. “Hopefully I run into you again.”

The three boys–men, rather, you are all twenty three at this point–shuffle away.

There is a heavy silence between you and Poppy, until she clears her throat.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly.

You nod, collecting yourself as you smile at her. “Perfectly fine. It’s been ages, Poppy. We’re all over it.”

She grabs your gloved hand, pulling it towards her. “You certainly are,” she says playfully, twisting the sparkling bauble on your left ring finger. “It’s gorgeous, by the way.”

“I never get to wear it,” you admit sheepishly. It’s been a month since your engagement, and you’ve hardly worn your ring; your fiance’s parents are perturbed that the announcement hasn’t been posted to the Daily Prophet yet. Despite having courted for the last year and a half, it still feels like everything has moved too fast, like you’ve fallen off your broom mid flight. For the most part, your engagement ring is safely tucked in its box atop your dresser, at the risk of getting bodily fluids on it during your shifts.

“He’s a lucky man.” Poppy echoes, sitting back in her chair. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

You’re doing fine, you think. You’re at the top of your field. You have a fine flat in a nice part of London, and a promise from a man that’s kind to you. The kind of man who waited for you to get off your shift to bring you breakfast, and took you to a nice restaurant on your Friday nights off. You hadn’t expected a pretty ring from him, especially since you only graced him with your presence once a week, but then again, your last relationship had taught you not to expect anything at all.

A flash of brunette hair crosses your mind; you blink away the thought.

“I’m happy. Very happy,” you say simply, holding your teacup up to your lips again. “So about the manticores…”

You jolt out of bed, a blue wisp of a rabbit bouncing around your bedroom. It’s rare to get a patronus message at this hour; it can only mean an emergency at the hospital. It also must be bad, considering they’re calling you in on your day off.

Without another thought, you tumble out of bed, rushing to your wardrobe to pull out your clothes. Your unit specifically wears a deep purple–dark enough to hide stains. Your shrug on undergarments and petticoats, and a burgundy gown with a high neckline. Your hands know exactly how to tighten your hair into a knot within a minute, having perfected the craft over the five years of your career. Your wand is stowed in your dress pocket; you’ll grab an apron at the ward. Grabbing a fistful of floo powder next to your fireplace, you step in, yelling out for St. Mungo’s.

The ward is in a flurry as you step out of the flames. A nurse hands you a white cotton apron, which you wrap around your waist as you hold your wand between your teeth. There are men all over, gashed and bleeding, as other healers take their information.

“What’s happened?” You bark at an orderly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Auror ambush by some ashwinders,” he says dryly. “It’s awful. Lost a few–even more are bleeding. It’s dark magic, some sort of spell to keep the wounds bleeding.”

“Of course it is, those bastards.” You mutter. “I’ll take the worst of them. Can someone bring me a coffee?”

He nods, pointing over to a bay of beds a few feet away. “Those three–they specifically requested you.” He hands off the charts, promising a caffeinated beverage.

You’re about to start flipping through the charts when you hear your name. Your head flies up at the familiar voice, and you feel the blood drain from your face. You can see Everett Clopton waving his hands at you; Andrew Larson’s voice is yelling behind the curtain. And just your luck, a pair of black shiny dress shoes are dangling off the examination table, twisted in an unnatural way.

Before you even realize it, you’re running to them. The charts are promptly cast onto the side table when you duck behind the curtain, a gasp catching in your throat.

Sebastian looks awful.

Correction–Sebastian looks dead.

“He jumped in front of me,” Everett panics, his hands on his head. “He shouldn’t have–we were talking, we thought we were out of the thick of it–”

“He’s been hit badly,” Andrew interjects. His sleeves are bloodied from trying to apply pressure to a gash across Sebastian’s chest, the blood seeping through his shirt and vest. “You have to do something,” he pleads. “He’s the best of us–we can’t lose him.”

“Move,” you urge the two of them. They scoot out of your way, and you make quick work of Sebastian’s clothing.

Years ago, tearing off Sebastian’s shirt would’ve been done out of passion, out of love. You push those thoughts out of your mind as you rip through his white dress shirt, which is sopping wet with blood. Sebastian’s skin is cold and clammy; even his freckles are pale, disappearing from his face.

“Get me some dittany and shrivelfigs,” you screech at the other healers. “And the blood renewing potions, please.” You run your hand and your wand over Sebastian’s wounds, uttering a healing charm. “Vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur,” you mutter under your breath. The spell isn’t healing fast enough, Sebastian is still losing too much blood.

You let out the blue wisps of magic from your fingertips as you channel some of your ancient magic into the healing spell. You’re still mad at Sebastian, of course, but you’ll be damned if he dies on your watch.

To your relief, the wounds start knitting themselves shut faster, but the scars look awful, all purpled and raised. Another healer is next to you, urgently crushing the dittany and shrivelfigs into a paste–an idea you got from the patient lying in front of you during your sixth year. You’d been battered so often during Crossed Wands, the two of you had experimented with salves and balms to lessen the appearance of your scars.

“He appears to be stabilizing,” the junior healer claims. “Good job, as always.”

You suppress the choked out cry that’s stuck in your throat as you think of Ominis, and how he used to scold the two of you for experimenting. He’d be thankful now that you did.

“There’s others,” another healer urges you. “We must move on to the next.”

You don’t want to. Sebastian seems to be stirring, groaning as the healer rubs the salve onto the gaping wound that streaks across his chest. You can hear Everett and Andrew crying and laughing on the other side of the curtain, exclaiming your name for having saved their partner.

There’s so much commotion, you could swear Sebastian uttered your name, but when you look back, his head is flat on the table, eyes shut. The color is slowly returning to him, now no longer pale and gray.

“We have to keep him for observation,” you instruct another healer, handing her Sebastian’s chart. “I’ll check on him later. In the meantime, there are others.”

Without another glance, you move on to the next bay.

“Excellent work as always,” your boss pats you on the shoulder. “You saved six good men tonight with your quick work.”

“I should just move into the ward,” you mutter under your breath before taking a large swig of coffee.

Your dress is stained with blood, fingers aching from all the healing you’d done. From the twelve aurors in the ambush, three had superficial wounds (Larson and Clopton included). Two had passed in the field, another before you’d gotten to the hospital. But all six of the aurors you’d treated, Sebastian included, were now tucked into private rooms, safe and breathing. You were keeping them for observation, unsure of what kind of curse the ashwinders had used on them. Your ancient magic managed to seal the wounds, but all were badly scarring. They’d all have to stay until you could rule out the cause.

After a much needed shower and an owl sent to your fiance, regretfully informing him you’d not make it to brunch with his parents, you start making your rounds. Most of your patients are sleeping deeply, others dizzily asking what happened. You save Sebastian’s room for last; Clopton and Larson, faithful companions, are sleeping in chairs outside of his room.

You quietly shut the door behind you, gulping as you stare at the man laying in the hospital bed. His chubby cheeks are long gone, hollowed and chiseled by age. You’d laughed at him when you were seventeen and he claimed he had a beard coming in; now you can see traces of stubble lining his jaw. His unruly chestnut hair has been brushed out of his face in a way you know he’ll hate.

But you don’t know that, not truly. Because you don’t know Sebastian anymore.

“Oh Sebastian,” you tut, sitting at a stool next to his bed. You hover your hands over his body, a misty blue glow emitting from them. No internal bleeding at least. He’s had at least three blood renewing potions, and his breathing is steady. You would examine the scars across his chest and torso, but the thought of undressing him in his current state is inappropriate to you.

You’re about to get up, leave him to his slumber when you hear it. He whispers your name in his sleep, head falling to the side. And instead of him being the one with a gaping wound, you feel like a hole has been drilled into your chest.

Maybe you’ll ask for tomorrow off.

Night Two

You’d asked for the day off again, but the request was denied. Begrudgingly, you dress for your shift, tucking your hair behind your ears as you walk with your daytime counterpart down the hallway.

“You’ve missed all the commotion,” your fellow healer gasps. She’s filling you in on the day shift, and all that’s transpired since you left in the morning. “There was a memory charm laced in with that blood curse from the ashwinders—some of them have lost weeks, years of memories. Not recognizing their wives or their children; we’ve had to close the doors to all visitors.”

“That’s a nasty curse.” You mutter, flipping through charts. Only someone sick in the head would mess with memory tampering curses—you wonder why no one has petitioned for them to be banned. The long term care wing at St. Mungos is filled with too many people who’d tinkered with memory spells, and you sincerely hope none of the aurors under your care end up there.

“Terrible, of course. But it made for an interesting day.” She hums. “You should’ve seen Rowle’s wife, security had to cart her out after he called her the wrong name. Think he courted her twin sister too.”

You laugh with her as you walk through the hallway, until your heart fills with dread.

“How is Sallow? The patient in 213.”

She tilts her head. “Fine I think–oh, he was asking for you. Do you know him?”

You fight back the red flush that’s creeping up your neck. “We were schoolmates.” You say. Nothing more. Sebastian can’t be more, especially after you’d done such hard work to forget him in the first place.

After your colleague has clocked out and you’ve checked all your other patients, you quietly rap your knuckles against Sebastian’s door. It’s late enough at night that he might be asleep already, and you can avoid the entire awkward conversation.

“Come in!”

Shit.

You open the door, and Sebastian is staring right back at you. He isn’t scowling like you thought he would be–his eyes are bright, a beaming smile on his lips.

“They told me you were working the night shift.” he says happily, scratching at the collar of his hospital gown. “I stayed awake.”

“Right, Mr. Sallow,” You say curtly, eyes down at the chart in front of you. “It is late, you should be getting rest–”

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he frowns.

You look up at him, and instead of a grown man, you see the puppy dog eyes that got you in trouble the few years you had at Hogwarts. “Mr. Sallow, rest is essential to your healing. You’ve been through quite the ordeal, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Why are you talking to me like you don’t know me?” Sebastian asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pet, it’s me.”

You inhale sharply, white knuckling the edge of the bed. “Sebastian,” you mutter (you hate how easily his name rolls off your lips still), “what year do you think it is?”

He rolls his eyes and chuffs. “It’s 1893, duh.”

“It’s not,” you sigh. “It’s 1898. You were in an ambush yesterday, and it seems the Ashwinders are using a memory curse as retaliation nowadays.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before he bursts into laughter. “Really? I’ve lost five damn years in my head? What have I missed? Don’t tell me we’re not married yet.” Only Sebastian could be jovial about such a matter; all the others were utterly distraught at losing their memories.

“Sebastian, darling, we haven’t seen each other in five years.” you confess, moving to the edge of the bed. Your voice is quiet, and although it’s been ages since you last called him darling, you think it might be too much on his poor heart if you don’t. The poor man just asked if you were married, for Merlin’s sake.

His smile fades. “What?”

“We…we went our separate ways five years ago.” You clear your throat. “It…it was a mutual decision.” you lie. Was it a lie? You honestly can’t remember.

“I would never,” Sebastian bites back. “I would never break up with you.”

“Darling, it’s been a very long time,” you say softly, wringing your hands together. “And I’m okay–you’re okay. We’re both doing well…just on our own now.”

“I can’t–this doesn’t make sense,” he jolts away from your touch, and you flinch. “Why would I ever agree to such a thing?”

You can recognize the tell tale signs of panic on a patient’s face, so you hurry over to the cupboard, pouring a glass of water. Sebastian is too far away to see you slip the vial of dreamless sleep into the glass, swirling it into oblivion.

“Here, drink this. You’ll feel much better,” you assure him.

Sebastian absentmindedly takes the glass, gulping down the water as he tries to make sense of the current situation. “It doesn’t make sense,” he mutters under his breath as he starts rubbing his eyes. He’s fighting the effects, and he looks up at you, a deep set frown on his face. “You dosed me, dammit.” The glass rolls out of his hand and onto the bed, where you scoop it up.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it's sincere. But you’re not equipped to handle Sebastian in such a state–you aren’t equipped to handle him, period. It’s been five years since you’ve had to mind his temper, and your heart can’t handle the pain.

Before you know it, Sebastian is knocked out, the dreamless sleeping draught taking over his body. With his eyes tightly shut, you can finally examine him. The scars across his chest are still purple, bruises lining his torso. Your fingers dance across his skin trying to heal him, but alas, they stay.

You make notes on his chart, letting the other healers know he may be groggy and upset when he wakes in the morning. Even though they’ve put a no visitors policy on the aurors, you remind them to call upon Ominis and Anne to see if they can talk some sense into him.

The last you’d asked Natty about Sebastian, he was happy. He was climbing up the ranks in the auror office, and he’d finally moved out of Ominis’s spare room. You’d cut her off once she started telling you how he was dating–that you didn’t need to know.

That had been two years ago. You wonder what’s changed since then.

Night Three

Your pleas for a night off have gone unanswered. Your boss tells you that you’re too integral to the auror case to be gone for more than twelve hours.

There’s a note left by your fiance’s owl; he’s sad you missed brunch, but he’s excited to take you out on Friday, your next scheduled day off. His mother is insistent the two of you sit for an engagement portrait that will be posted in the Daily Prophet to announce your impending union. You fold the note and toss it onto your desk; when you have a free moment, you’ll write a letter explaining that you would like a lengthy engagement.

Planning a wedding and working the night shift is just too much work for you. You twist your large engagement ring off your finger and put it in its box before taking the floo network to St. Mungo’s.

You’re barely five steps out of the fireplace before a body hits you.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Anne Sallow breathes, her arms enveloping you. “You saved him. He’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“Anne,” you sigh into her touch. Similar to her brother, it’s been ages since you’ve seen her. She’s still thin and delicate, but her bangs are long grown out. “What are you still doing here? It’s so late.”

“Ominis and I wanted to catch you,” she claims. “The healers called us in to talk to Sebastian.”

“Right, I asked them to.” you say, smoothing your apron. “How was he today?”

Anne winces. “He’s…he’s still pretty confused.”

You give her a sympathetic smile, biting back the sarcastic words you had in mind. “It must be awful.”

Anne pulls away, digging her toe into the ground. “He keeps asking what happened between the two of you. I’m not sure what to say.” she admits.

You bite your lower lip. “You can tell him the truth. That we ended amicably. That we were fine.”

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have disappeared for five years.” a voice says behind you.

It only takes you a second to recognize the rich voice of Ominis Gaunt. Whirling around, you throw your arms around the tall blonde. It’s been ages since you’ve given him a hug let alone seen him, so he chuckles into your shoulder when you grasp him.

“I missed you,” you pat his cheek.

“We missed you,” Ominis hums. “I’m surprised St. Mungo’s would call me; I haven’t been Sebastian’s emergency contact for a while.”

You furrow your eyebrows as Anne takes Ominis’s arm. Why wouldn’t he be his emergency contact? Ominis is his best friend, and having been together with Anne for so long, practically his brother.

That’s a question for another time, you decide.

“It’s late, you two should be getting home. Visitor hours are over.” you remind them.

“I’m not leaving before you promise to see me again,” Ominis says sternly. “Five years is far too long.”

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course. Ominis, I’m sorry. I just thought that when things ended, the two of you were best friends…”

“That was my decision to make,” he says softly. “Not yours. I decide whose side I’m on.”

Ominis’s words warm your heart, but they also leave cracks. Ominis and Sebastian were a package deal when you met them, and you’ve spent far too much of your time with the boys driving them apart.

After much coaxing, Ominis and Anne take their leave. You’re finally able to start your rounds. Rowle is starting to regain his memories and they’ve allowed his wife back into the ward. Travers still has a nasty gash on his leg that’s festering, but he’s otherwise remembering things from last week. Cattermole is fast asleep, so you avoid his room to let him get some more rest.

Your hand falters on the handle of room 213, taking a deep breath before you push in. Just as you thought, Sebastian isn’t asleep. He’s sitting upright in bed, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at you.

“You’re looking much better,” you offer, shutting the door behind you.

“You gave me a sleeping draught last night,” he accuses you. “That’s not fair.”

“You were getting hysterical, Sebastian.” you remind him, flipping through his chart. Nothing particularly new, and no memories back. He’s spent the entire day asking for you, the chart says, and fighting with orderlies. It mentions Ominis and Anne arriving, and that the two gentlemen had sharp words for one another. Ominis was right—he isn’t Sebastian’s emergency contact anymore. There’s an unfamiliar name, a woman.

“Open your shirt, please.”

Sebastian waggles his eyebrows at you. “Are you sure we’re not together?”

You roll your eyes. “Your cheekiness, I didn’t miss it.” you mutter, hands on your hips. “I need you to take your shirt off so I can check your wounds, you idiot.”

Sebastian gives you a familiar grin as he unbuttons his pajama shirt; he’s flexing his muscles, you can tell. A pinch to his pectoral has him yowling, and he stops. You grin at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Perhaps we did break up,” he grumbles.

Sebastian’s breath stutters as your fingers prod at his scars. They’re still ugly and raised, but the color is improving.

“I’m not sure there’s much more I can do,” you frown. “I think they’ll stay.”

“That’s fine,” Sebastian breathes. “You did always say you preferred when I was roughed up.”

You give him a strained look. “Sebastian–”

“Please, listen to me.” Sebastian urges. “Ominis…he told me what happened between us. And I really, truly can’t believe we would let it get to that.” Your name is a gentle whisper from his mouth, and he pushes his brunette hair out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

You swallow thickly, backing up. “We were so young, Sebastian. Let’s leave the past in the past, please.”

“Ominis and I haven’t spoken in two years.” Sebastian interjects. “He just told me. Annie says we had a fight, and you were part of it.”

You turn around, shutting your eyes. “I don’t want to hear this,” you admit weakly.

Sebastian is rustling in his sheets; he lets out a low hiss as he adjusts his still healing torso. “If the version of me, the one that got cursed, isn’t talking to you, Anne, or Ominis…I don’t want to go back to that. I don’t want to be that version of me.” Sebastian pleads. “If that’s the case, I don’t want to remember.”

“You have friends, Sebastian.” You remind him, turning to face him again. “You have friends, your job…” you trail off, picking up his chart again. You pinpoint the section with his emergency contact; a woman who is likely sitting at home, worried sick over him. “You have a girlfriend, probably. One who is desperate to see you.” There’s a lump in your throat as you try to imagine her, but your mind comes up blank.

“I don’t care,” Sebastian breathes. “She’s a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger,” you remind him. “Sebastian…I’m engaged. I’m getting married next spring.”

That’s a lie–you and your fiance haven’t even discussed a timeline, but it seems more official to say it with a season.

The hope on Sebastian’s face crumbles, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You’re engaged,” he croaks.

“Engaged.” The more you say it, the more it’s real. “He’s lovely. You would like him.” Now that's an even bigger lie–Sebastian would’ve called him a prat if he met him. You appreciate your fiance’s softness and meekness, especially after having been with a firecracker hothead for most of your teens.

Sebastian is crumpled in bed, twisting onto his side. “I’d like to go to bed now,” he mumbles. It was textbook Sebastian–whenever something didn’t go his way, he’d turn away from you in bed like a petulant child. It’s almost a relief to see that he does the same thing at twenty three years old.

“If you ring the bell, someone will come to aid you.” You wave your wand, dimming the lights. “You can ask for someone else, if you’d like.”

Sebastian doesn’t say anything as you shut the door, and when he does ring the bell for assistance, he requests anyone but you. It’s stupid to be upset over, it’s what you wanted–for him to stop pestering you.

But you have a nice long cry in the potions ingredient cupboard anyways.

The rest of your shift goes by uneventfully. Rowle has regained his memories and will be discharged in the morning. Cattermole finally woke up from his deep sleep and he’s on the mend, moved out of the intensive care ward. Travers has also been discharged, prescribed a salve to make sure the cut on his leg stays clean. It leaves Roberts, Jorkins, and Sallow as your only three patients left from the case, and perhaps now your boss will let you take a night off.

Night Four

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Sebastian says sheepishly.

“Whatever for?” You mumble, pressing a strip of gauze to his chest wound. You’re trying a new salve recipe you’ve been working on, just to see if it’ll help break down the scar tissue. His bruises are starting to go yellow, and if he works back up on his memory, Sebastian can be discharged from your ward.

“For being rude.” Sebastian sighs. “I’m…it’s starting to come back to me a bit now.”

You look up at him, eyebrows raised. “Is it?”

“We fought that night.” Sebastian swallows thickly. “You and me. I can’t exactly remember what we fought about, but you threw a book at me.”

“And I hit your eyebrow.” You remind him.

“Lucky shot,” Sebastian rolls his eyes, and you have to suppress a laugh. He winces as you press the salve in; his body is still sensitive.

“I’m sorry for that. I never got to apologize to you,” you admit, rubbing the mixture in. “But I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Sebastian asks softly.

“For putting up with all of it,” you pat another piece of gauze over the salve. Sebastian looks like a mess and he’ll have to sleep sitting up, but you’re hoping to salvage his handsome chest. There are a bevy of flower vases strewn across the room, and plenty of Sebastian’s favorite sweets piled on his bedside table.

“I see you had quite a few visitors today.”

Sebastian nods, trying not to move too much. “Anne and Ominis again; he’s warming back up to me, I know it.” he brags. “Clopton and Larson too. I can’t believe I was paired up with two Ravenclaws as partners. That’s probably how I got all bungled up in the first place.”

“Everett said you were quite the hero,” you back away, admiring your work (and his muscles, he’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him). “And they stayed the entire night when you first came into the ward, so I know they’re loyal to you.”

There is a silence between you two for a moment, until Sebastian breaks the tension.

“She visited earlier.” Sebastian echoed. “Rebecca.”

You turn away at the name; at least it’s not the girl you remember from your last argument. “Rebecca is a lovely name,” you offer. It’s all you can give him without treading into dangerous waters. You’re engaged after all, and stuck patting balm into the chest of your former lover.

“She was distraught.” Sebastian hummed. “Hates the scars.”

You turn around, rolling your eyes. “She’s dating an auror, she should get used to it.” you scowl.

“That’s what I said,” Sebastian laughs, trying not to move the salve covered strips. “But she wasn’t having it. She was worried I would never look the same, so I broke up with her.”

You blink at him. He seems completely unbothered.

“Sebastian!” You exclaim. “You shouldn’t break up with her over that alone.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Y’know, the boys filled in a few of the blanks for me. Apparently, not very many people actually liked Rebecca and I together, so I guess it was impending anyways.”

You put your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe you broke up with your girlfriend because Everett Clopton and Andrew Larson told you to.” you shake your head. “She was your emergency contact, Sebastian. You’ve probably been dating a while.”

“According to Clopton, I was planning on breaking up with her soon anyways.”

“Idiots, the lot of you.” You tut, washing your hands in the basin.

“We’d only been dating three months.” Sebastian interjects. “I put her as my emergency contact because I had no one else. Ominis and Anne…well, they weren’t talking to me apparently.”

You don’t say anything, letting the water run over your hands.

“I guess I’ve been a real arse the last few years,” Sebastian echoes. “Everett said I hadn’t been quite myself since we…well, you get the gist.”

“Everyone is an arse when they’re eighteen,” you remind him.

Sebastian snorts. “I’m sure you weren’t.”

“I think I might’ve been.” You chuckle under your breath. “Poppy always said I had a one track mind. Only ever thought about myself, my career.”

“Well, it’s done a lot for you.” Sebastian offers. “Youngest lead healer in St. Mungo’s history.”

You roll your eyes. “The others think I’m a show off.”

“You’re gifted,” he shrugs, and a slice of gauze slips from his chest. “That’s all.”

“Lay back darling,” you advise him, stuffing a pillow behind his back to keep him comfortable.

Sebastian does as you say, his hands balled up in fists at his side. “So, your fiance,” He trails off. “What’s he like?”

You purse your lips, pulling his sheets over his waist. “He’s nice.”

“Nice. That’s it?” Sebastian snorts. “Surely he has some better attributes, you said yes to marrying him.”

“He’s calm, quiet.” you say, turning your back to put away the excess gauze. “He’s a junior secretary for the Minister of Magic.” turning back to Sebastian, you already know he has a smug smile on his face. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say,” you warn, wagging a finger.

“What?” Sebastian scoffs. “I would never say anything about an esteemed junior secretary,” he says dramatically. “Besides, you’re the one who thought it…”

“I didn’t think anything!” You laugh. “I just knew exactly what you were thinking.”

“And what is that?” Sebastian asks coyly.

“You were going to call him a pencil pusher,” you accuse.

Sebastian fakes a gasp, holding a hand to his chest. “My stars, I would never say such a thing.”

“Stop it,” you laugh again, slapping his hand. “You’re ruining my hard work. I’ll have to do it again.”

“No,” Sebastian groans. “It’s cold. I just want to put a jumper on, I don’t care about the scars.” he pouts.

“I need you to get better,” you hold your hands on your hips. “The auror office will have my head if I keep you here any longer when your colleagues are back home.”

Sebastian fumbles with the edge of the blanket. “And what would consider me healed?”

“Well, I’d say besides the appearance, your physical wounds are fully healed.” You shrug. “But we can’t discharge you until your memories are back–or at least substantially returned.”

Sebastian is quiet, and he stays quiet until you finish putting away all your supplies. You’re about to leave him, implore him to get some rest, when he clears his throat.

“Pet,” he says cautiously (he hasn’t used your old nickname since the second night of his stay).

“Yes, Sebastian?” You ask, slipping your hands into the pocket of your apron. When you look at Sebastian from the doorway, he doesn’t look like a twenty three year old man. He looks like the Sebastian you used to know–the hotheaded eighteen year old who only ever got shy around you.

“Would you…could we be friends after this?” He asked lowly. “I know you said we haven’t seen each other in five years, and I know there’s some blame there on my end. But we’ve been through so much together, and you’ve saved my life.” he rambles.

You once told yourself that if Sebastian Sallow ever came crawling back, you’d slam the door shut in his face. The first year of your separation had been excruciating; the second had been dreadful. Once you’d gotten on to your third year without him in your life, the pain had become bearable. And once you’d gotten on to four years without him, you realized you didn’t think of him anymore. In fact, you hadn’t thought of him at all until you saw him standing a few paces away from your tea table.

“Of course, darling.” You assure him. “Only if you promise me that you’ll actually sleep.”

Sebastian’s face lights up in a way you distinctly remember–the first time you’d seen it was when you arrived in Feldcroft to meet Anne when you were both fifteen. He adjusts himself to the pillows as you wave your wand to dim the lights.

You shut the door behind you, letting out a sigh when you’re out of sight. You feel guilty calling Sebastian darling again–you’ve never even blessed your own fiance with his own nickname. And despite your refusal of the situation, you can’t help the shiver you feel at the base of your spine when you hear Sebastian calling you pet again.

Perhaps being friends is not a good idea.

Night Five

Sebastian is asleep when your shift starts, and you nearly skip over his room. But against your better judgment, you push into the door, knocking lightly.

The brunette man is slumped over, snoring lightly as if he were waiting for you. At the sound of the door, he jolts, rubbing his eyes.

“Why can’t you be on the day shift?” he complains sleepily.

You chuckle. “I can leave you, let you get some rest.”

“No,” Sebastian clears his throat. “I’d like you to stay.” He shrugs off his shirt, proudly displaying his scars. “They still look like hell, but at least they aren’t purple anymore.”

You stride over, running your hands over them. Your ancient magic was able to overpower the bleeding curse, but Sebastian will forever have a dip in his chest and bubbled over scars. They’re at least turning pink, a much better place than they were a few days ago.

“They look great,” you pat his shoulder. “And once we get your memories back in order, we can get you home.”

Sebastian gives you a strange look. “Ominis came again during the day…filling in the blanks again.”

“And?” You ask softly, sitting in the chair next to him.

“Why did we break up?” Sebastian asks firmly. “Can you tell me? And don’t give me the whole spiel about us growing apart. I want the details.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands. “We were eighteen, Sebastian. I was careless, you were lonely, we were both focused on our careers and not on each other.” Truthfully, you had spent years thinking of the many ways you’d address this conversation, how you’d confront him if you ever saw him again. Now five years later and after having almost witnessed Sebastian’s death, the downfall of your first love is easily compounded into one simple sentence.

“You started working the night shift,” Sebastian says.

“I started working the night shift,” you echo. “I wanted to rise up quickly in the ranks, so I volunteered. I was working so many hours, and you were gone during the day at your job, so we barely saw each other.”

“I asked you to take time off.” Sebastian adds.

“And I said no.” you admit. “I told you that you were being insecure. That my job was more important, because I was saving lives.” It’s one of the few shames you’ve compartmentalized over the past few years–that you’d ever downplayed the importance of his career compared to yours.

“I went out that night.” Sebastian whispers, looking at his hands. “And I didn’t come home until the morning.”

“It was my only night off of the week, and you came home at four in the morning, stinking of firewhiskey and perfume.” Your eyes shut, replaying the awful scene in your head.

“Did I?” he croaked. “Did I cheat on you, really?”

“No,” You shake your head, and he lets out a relieved sigh. “You said you could have. You said you wanted to.” You add, rubbing the temples of your forehead. “That you were tired of living in half of a relationship, and that you’d wanted to kiss that girl.”

“You threw the book at me,” Sebastian says weakly. “And I smashed your mug.”

“I told you to go to her if you really wanted.” You admit. “And you left.”

“I stayed at Ominis’s that night.” he whispered. “I didn’t go to her.”

“I didn’t know that. So I packed my things and left.”

The silence hangs between the two of you, and all of the feelings you had at eighteen come flooding back. After the fight, you apparated to Natty’s place, while Anne and Poppy had cleaned out your bits in the apartment. What was meant to be a one night stay turned into a week, and then more. After a month without word from Sebastian, you committed to the night shift, forsaking your friendships and social life for work. Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and before you knew it, you were promoted. Sebastian Sallow was a blip in your timeline, a faded memory of teenage love. He’d been just a memory until you saw him in Diagon Alley. Your heart hadn’t felt anything but anger towards him until you saw his shiny black dress shoes.

“Did we throw it all away?” Sebastian asks sorrowfully.

“We became the people we needed to be.” You remind him. “Look at you, an auror. A damn good one. The kind that jumps in front of their partner to save them from a curse.” you assure him.

“And you’re a healer,” Sebastian inhales. “A bloody amazing one, that saved my life and five others. I’m so proud of you.” Sebastian’s lower lip wobbles, and you know your heart is in danger.

“You seem to remember quite a bit,” You point out. “More than you let on.”

“I was talking to Clopton about you. We thought the ambush was over, we were trying to get to a floo point so we could get Larson’s leg checked out.” Sebastian says. “I told him how beautiful you looked, and that you looked happy.” his voice cracks.

“Sebastian.” It’s not a warning, just a statement. A week ago you would’ve never said his name aloud, let alone thought of it. But it feels right rolling off your tongue.

“Everett said something about you being engaged. It’s…it’s fuzzy from there on, but I remember the fight. And I jumped in front of him, but not just to save him.” Sebastian says, his fingers drumming on his stomach.

“Why?” You almost don’t want to hear the rest. It might upend your life entirely.

“I jumped in front of him because I knew I’d be okay. That you would probably be at St. Mungo’s when I got there.” Sebastian said weakly. “And I’d get a chance to see you again.”

“Sebastian, we’re different people now.” You remind him.

“We’re better now.” Sebastian says, giving you pleading eyes. “I was an idiot when I was eighteen; I thought I was being a man, but I wasn’t. And I’m not going to pretend that I’ve been happy the past five years–there hasn’t been another woman who’s made me feel the way you do.” he confesses.

“It’s been too long,” you try to say, but you know it's no use trying to argue with him. From your first fight in the Undercroft at fifteen to the fight that broke you two up, Sebastian has never backed down.

Before you even realize it, Sebastian has reached his hand out, taking yours. He’s rubbing your left ring finger–the one missing your large, ostentatious engagement ring.

“Don’t marry him,” Sebastian croaks. “Please, don’t marry him.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I understand you now.” Sebastian says. “I understand you in a way I didn’t when I was younger. And that’s good–it’s good for us now. It wasn’t the right time then, but we could try again now.” he pleads.

“Four days ago when you saw me in Diagon Alley, you could barely look at me.” You remind him. “I should have you committed to the memory ward at this point.”

“Four days ago when I saw you, I was sick to my stomach with how happy you looked.” Sebastian admits. “I saw you from a distance, smiling at Larson and Poppy. I couldn’t look you in the eye after seeing you smile.”

You want to tell Sebastian that your fiance is a good man. That he loves you, cherishes you, and doesn’t fight with you. But you can’t help being nostalgic as you hold the hand of your first love, who is currently begging you to end your relationship to risk it all again with him. Whatever strength you’ve mustered together in the last five years is about to break as his big brown eyes implore you to stay.

“Your memory seems back to normal,” you change the subject, standing up quickly. You tug your hand out from his, smoothing your clammy palms against your apron. “I’ll put you down for discharge in the morning.”

“Don’t,” Sebastian warns. “Don’t run away.”

“You ran away.” You remind him.

“And I regret it, every day.” Sebastian says mournfully. “You were my first love. You were going to be my only love, and I fucked it up.”

“We both made mistakes, Sebastian.” You say, staring down at your feet. “You need to get some rest. I’ll leave you be.”

He’s arguing as you step through the door, wringing your hands together. The thoughts running through your head aren’t right–no, they’re crazy. Except your feet keep walking towards the ward matron’s desk, gripping the stone top.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks, frowning.

“I need to go home,” you confess, scribbling what little notes you have onto Sebastian’s chart. “There’s something I have to do.”

Thirty minutes later (your on call replacement is displeased to have been woken up late at night) you’re back in your flat. Your mind is buzzing as you pace in the bedroom, thinking about the idea gnawing at your brain.

It would be insane.

You haven’t talked in five years.

He’s emotional after having been saved from the brink of death.

He broke up with his girlfriend on the spot, because she wasn’t you.

Sebastian is most well known for his unwavering support and adoration. At least he was when you were younger. Sebastian had always been encouraging, cheering you on through crossed wands, battles in the highlands, and even when you got your first job offer from St. Mungo’s. He’d been crazy about you–obsessed with you, even. The two of you had been the couple of your year when you graduated.

Sebastian had only ever faltered once, and it ended your relationship.

Don’t marry him.

The words replay in your mind. It makes you realize your stomach has flipped more in the last four nights than it has in years. That your even tempered fiance, a kind but boring man, has not once made you feel what you’ve felt in the past week being back in Sebastian’s presence.

It is insane, you think. But you’d rather take feeling than nothing at all.

Digging through your dresser, you pull out the box holding your engagement ring.

Night Six

It has been a long, long day.

What time you would have spent sleeping is spent assuring your now ex-fiance that nothing untoward has happened. That you appreciate his kindness and companionship over the past year, but that you cannot lie to yourself.

You cannot marry him because you don’t love him as you should.

You prepare for the night shift with a spring in your step, because when you get there, you’re heading straight to Sebastian’s room. You’re going to tell him what you’ve done, and hope that he’s still feeling just as crazy as you. You pull your hair into its usual bun, wishing you could wear something a little nicer to what will be your reunion. Sebastian used to love when you wore green; perhaps you’ll buy a green dress the next day you’re off.

When you get to the ward, it’s quieter than usual. Holding your wand between your teeth again, affixing the white apron, your heart beats out of your chest as you approach room 213.

This is it. This is the start of the rest of your life.

You push through the doors of 213, but your breath stutters when you see the empty bed. It’s stripped of any linens, and all of the flowers and candy boxes Sebastian’s colleagues sent are gone.

“Where is the patient in 213?” you whip around, grabbing the closest orderly.

They give you a curious look. “Discharged this morning–you put it in their paperwork.”

You swallow, and it feels like shards of broken glass are tumbling down your throat. “I…I did.”

“Isn’t today your day off, too?” They tilt their head at you. “Honestly, it feels like your head hasn’t been screwed on at all this week. Might want to take some focus potions, ma’am.”

“Uh, right.” You admit, turning red. You were so excited at the prospect of seeing Sebastian again, you completely forgot that Fridays were your nights off from the ward. You were rather busy after all, imploding your life. “”Does it say who picked him up?”

They shrug, flipping through the charts again. “He was taken to his home in Diagon Alley by his sister and brother-in-law.”

You curse under your breath as you try to plot a plan. There’s no way Ominis still lives in the small flat he had when you last saw him, and you have no idea where Sebastian lives. The ward doesn’t have an address either, so you’re shit out of luck.

Unless…unless you were to find one of his loyal partners.

Apparition is frowned upon inside of St. Mungo’s, but you’ll take a scolding from the matron ward on Saturday. You immediately apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, where most of the ministry’s aurors spend their evenings. You know this because you’ve been avoiding the biggest pub in Diagon Alley for five years, hoping not to run into your ex.

The crowd stares at you in your St. Mungo’s uniform; you push through throngs of ministry employees, all wearing fine suits and dresses from their day jobs. Your eyes scan the room, heart losing hope by the second, until you spot Everett and Andrew sitting with a gaggle of your classmates from Hogwarts, Natsai Onai included. Andrew elbows Everett at the sight of you, and Clopton beams as if he’s won a bet.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly, approaching the group.

“Figured you might turn up.” Larson teased. “Gaunt, Clopton, and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“What’s going on?” Natty asks, clearly confused. She says your name, tilting her head.

“I need his address,” You gasp. “He wasn’t at the ward when I got there–”

“Anne and Ominis picked him up this morning.” Everett says, pulling out his wand and a paper napkin. He aimed his wand at the scrap, delicately burning an address into the paper. “He doesn’t live far from here. Perhaps you’ll keep him from spending too much time at the pub now.”

“Who doesn’t live far?” Natty asks again, elbowing Andrew.

“Sallow, of course.” Larson winks. “You two had enough time to talk it through, yeah?”

“What the bloody hell–they haven’t spoken in five years,” Natty claims with wide eyes. She gives you a look, and you can’t do anything but shrug.

“Near death experiences will change you,” Everett says smugly, taking a sip of his tankard. “Well go on then, what are you still doing here?”

You mouth an apology to Natty; you’ll have to explain it to her someday soon. For now, you’re pushing through the crowd, trying to get out the door. Looking down at the napkin, Everett Clopton is right; Sebastian lives maybe a stone's throw away from the pub. Your feet are pounding on the cobblestone of Diagon Alley, looking like a blue wisp to any passersby.

Before you know it, you’re turning onto his street, with only the lamps in front of each door illuminating the numbers. You stop, gasping for air, trying to find the right one. Of course he’s at the end of the row, a dark green door with a gold knocker. It’s late now, the sky pitch black, as you start pounding.

It takes only thirty seconds for the door to swing open; Anne is standing behind it, looking shocked.

“You’re here,” she breathes.

“I told you she would,” you hear Ominis yell from the inside. “Clopton owes me ten galleons.”

“Can I come in?” you ask.

Anne bites back a smile. “Of course you can.”

You walk into Sebastian’s home; despite having never seen it, it positively reeks of him. There are touches of him all over the house–from the books stacked in the hallways, to the shoes messily kicked in the parlor room. He has trinkets from his travels on the mantle, and you can see he still leaves his teacups all over the house (something you once fought over–it seems endearing now).

Ominis is in the sitting room, lounging on a chaise. “Took you long enough.” he says teasingly. “I was rather surprised you abandoned him last night. He was absolutely bereft when we picked him up in the morning.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you admit sheepishly, digging your toe into the carpet. “I…I just had something I had to do first.”

“A break up and a make up in one day, you’re a busy woman as always.”

“Shut up.”

Ominis gives you a toothy grin; something he saves only for those he loves. “I missed you.” he stood, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can only hope Sebastian doesn’t bungle it all up and we lose you all over again.”

You press your nose into Ominis’s shoulder; it seems silly you ever thought you could live without this group of people in your life.

“I thought you were mad at him,” you say, pulling back to look up at the blond.

“I was mad that he was being stubborn,” Ominis says softly. “That he wasn’t being himself, drinking every day and dating girls who weren’t right for him. I told him he had to pluck up the courage to speak to you again, or get over it and make peace with his life. He’s been rather stuck, as you can imagine.”

You have been too, you think.

“Is he upstairs?” You ask, turning to the slim staircase. Anne is standing next to the railing, giving a signature Sallow smirk.

“He might be asleep,” Ominis warned. “But he is. First room to the left.”

You squeeze his hand in thanks before walking up the stairs. The floor creaks underneath you as you push in the door; Sebastian is laying in his bed, sleeping fitfully. You nearly knock a stack of books over as you kneel next to his bed; you also recognize the book on his side table, the spine dented from when you threw it at his face five years ago. It reminds you of the shattered mug you keep on your desk. Perhaps you two have been subconsciously keeping pieces of each other around.

Sebastian stirs as you brush his brunette hair out of his face. He opens one eye, then the other, blinking furiously as he tries to sit up.

“You’re here,” he groans, a hand flying to his torso. “Is this a good visit, or just a hospital house call? Because my scars are killing me now that I’m home.”

You give a watery chuckle. “It can be both, if you like.” You pull the blanket aside, examining his puckered skin. The scars will stay for good, but that’s fine. You did always like it when Sebastian was roughed up anyways.

“You’re here.” Sebastian repeats, only this time it's softer.

“I had to go to the Leaky Cauldron to get your address from Clopton.” you admit, blue waves emitting from your fingertips as you try to take away some of the physical pain. “But yes, I’m here.”

“By the sound of our last conversation, I thought you were done. That we were just going to have to live with our mistakes.” Sebastian breathes.

“I wanted to say more, but there was something I had to do first.” you sit on the bed; Sebastian adjusts to give you more room, taking your hands in his. “I had to give back the engagement ring.”

“You did?” Sebastian asks hopefully.

“Seeing you…being around you for the first time in five years…” You’re trying to compound all of your feelings in a simple sentence, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “It made me realize I just didn’t love him.” You confess. “I shouldn’t feel the way I’ve felt seeing you.”

“Pet,” he murmurs, putting a hand to your cheek. “You’ve saved my life. I can’t ask anything more from you.”

“Then can I?” You ask, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes as you place your hand over his. Sebastian’s hand is warm and familiar, fitting perfectly against you.

“Ask me anything,” Sebastian echoes.

“Let’s try again.” you whisper.

Sebastian scoots over, making space on the bed for you. You don’t care if anyone else has slept in it over the five years you’ve been apart; something about the way Sebastian melts against your touch tells you he’s only ever belonged to you in the first place.

“Let’s try again.” Sebastian whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your lips. It feels positively electric, like it’s awoken something that’s been dormant inside you for five long, sleepy years. You take good care not to press too much of your weight onto a still recovering patient, but Sebastian does everything in his power to draw you closer. His hands start pulling pins out of your hair, the tight bun coming unraveled as he weaves his fingers through your tresses.

“You’re still healing,” you remind him as he starts working on the buttons of your dress. “And your sister is downstairs.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian murmurs into your skin, tugging your collar down to press a kiss at the base of your neck. “We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

You have, you think. So you let Sebastian ravish you with kisses, blushing when you hear Ominis loudly call up the stairs that he and Anne are leaving. You only leave the bed to unlace your dress, Sebastian eagerly watching as you strip the fabric from your body. He groans in a good way when you press kisses to his chest, fingers dancing across the scars on his chest. Not all scars would disappear, and there would always be reminders of the past. But it was good to acknowledge them, to know that they were there, and that they were healed.

The two of you stay awake the entire night reacquainting yourselves with each other’s body; the sun is streaming through Sebastian’s curtains when you realize you’ve been awake since Thursday night, running off adrenaline. Your eyes begin to droop as Sebastian presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Go to sleep, pet.” he whispers. “I’m right here.”

You’ll have to call in again, you think. You need an entire day of sleep after this week. And the next time you get to the ward, you’ll turn in your official notice, asking to move to the day shift.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x anne sallow #Auror Sebastian #Auror Sebastian Sallow #hogwarts legacy fan fiction #writing-intheundercroft #this one got a little out of hand #should I write a smutty part two?????

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 6 months

Text

Staring Down the Barrel of Your Gun

Bucky teaches you to shoot a gun when he realizes he won't always be there to protect you.

Warnings: all of my work is 18+ only, but language, references to gun usage and gun terminology, mentions of Bucky as the Winter Soldier, Bucky scaring the reader with his actions

A/N: This takes place during the events of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, specifically at Sarah's house in Louisiana. Also I don't know much about guns, so take the terminology as a work of fiction for the sake of the story

"Buck, I'm starving. Can we please take a break?" You groaned, looking over to the porch, the door to Sarah's kitchen wide open so the scent of pancakes wafted through the open air. You had been up since sunrise with your boyfriend running gun handling drills under the cover of the trees behind the Wilson's house Your hands ached from palming the steel grip, your finger on and off the trigger at Bucky's command.

"Pay attention, doll. If you're in danger, you can't afford to lose focus. Now get in your stance." Bucky nodded at the target in front of you about 100 feet away, a blacked out silhouette that was tacked to a far tree, riddled with bullet holes from your previous shots. You wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. Even though it was barely April, the Louisiana humidity made it feel at least 20 degrees warmer, even in the early morning. You let the gun drop to your side as you shook out your sore arms.

"Never point your gun down to the ground like that." His sharp tone startled you into position. Bucky was barking orders and corrections at you, and it was starting to get on your nerves. You grumbled expletives at him, that his super hearing definitely picked up but chose to ignore for the sake of your training. You lifted your arms out in front of you, one hand layered on top of the other as you focused on your target. Stance, Lift, Target, Safety, Trigger. Bucky's words from your previous trainings echoed through your mind. He had drilled the commands into you with repetition.

"Your footings all wrong." You let out a sharp breath, holding your tongue from giving Bucky a piece of your mind as you removed your finger from the trigger. You felt his metal hand on your left hip, his leg forcing your left foot forward so you had a staggered stance. "Stand straight up and the recoil will knock you on your ass." He stood back, examining you like you were under a microscope. "Alright, go."

Again, you planted your footing, going through the motions in your mind.

Stance, Lift, Target, Safety, Trigger.

You felt a warm breeze hit your face, the wind whistling in your ears. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, holding it as you slowly opened your eyes, focusing in on your target. Finally, you allowed the breath to leave your lungs. You were about to pull the trigger when Bucky stopped you again. "Wrong."

"What, now?", you gritted out between clenched teeth. His hands were on your body again, this time at your elbows, pulling your arms back a toward you. "You'll break your arms if you stand rigid", Bucky whispered, his tone gravelly, "you need to be strong, not stiff". His breath against your ear sent a shiver down your spine. Bucky's hands were no stranger to the contours of your body, and usually you welcomed his touch, but out here he was rough with you in a way you didn't like, forcing you into certain positions when he felt like you weren't following his instructions.

"Now, do it again. Right this time." For the third time, you positioned your feet, Stance, lifted your arms out in front of you, Lift, to the height of your target, Target, closed your eyes and took in a sharp breath as you removed the safety, Safety, and placed your hand on the trigger prepared to pull, Trigger.

Bucky watched you intently as you stood frozen, your chest heaving with each breath. Bucky had been training you for days, and your target was proof that you weren't shy with a gun, but for some reason you couldn't pull the trigger.

"Shoot." You couldn't hear Bucky as he tried to grab your attention, the ringing in your ears drowning out all other sound.

"Shoot the gun." He was shouting against the silence, his patience wearing thin. "Shoot the damn gun, doll."

You blinked and Bucky was standing in front of you, the barrel of the gun pressed against his forehead.

"Bucky, what are you doing?" Your question was just above a whisper. You tried to move, but couldn't, as if you had lost control of your body. "I said shoot the gun." His tone was even, as if he was telling you about his day. He had a vacant stare as he looked through you, and for a second you thought you saw a glimpse of the monster buried just beneath the surface.

"Buck, I'm not going to shoot you." Your voice was shaky, but he was unmoving.

"Shoot the gun, now." He grabbed at the gun with his vibranium limb, holding it to the middle of his forehead. You saw the steel barrel buckle under his grip. Bucky didn't see you as his girlfriend, the love of his life, but as a soldier. A soldier who was disobeying his direct order.

Tears were brimming your eyes, blurring your vision. You felt the heat creep up your neck as your hands went numb from holding your arms up for so long. You weren't sure how you got here, starting the morning training with Bucky, to suddenly being forced to make an impossible decision in front of the Winter Soldier.

"No, Bucky." You dropped your arms, feeling the weight of the gun as you put the safety back on, letting it fall to the ground. He took a step toward you to pick the gun up, and you backed away instinctively, cowering away from him. Bucky's gaze softened as he realized that you were terrified, your hands shaking. "Baby, I-".

"Food's ready, if you two love birds can take a break from your tactical training." You heard Sam's booming voice as he bounded down the stairs of the back porch, quickly reaching the two of you with his wide stride. His smile quickly dropped when he noticed your tears, Bucky's facial expression stoic. He sensed the tension between the two of you, clearing his throat. "Everything okay out here?"

You wiped a stray tear from your cheek, giving him a weak smile. "I've lost my appetite." You quickly turned away, jogging back to the house, falling just out of Bucky's reach as he called out to you. "Doll, wait." He moved to follow after you when Sam stopped him, a hand to his chest.

"What did you do?" Bucky shrugged him off, pushing past Sam.

"Why was she crying?" Sam continued to push, right on Bucky's heels. "Better crying than dead."

Sam stepped in front of Bucky, shoving him hard at the shoulders. Bucky barely stumbled back, but he got the message, stopping in his tracks. "What did you do?" Sam repeated himself, his anger evident.

Bucky collided with Sam, puffing out his chest. "She hesitated. You hesitate, you die. You think for a second too long, you die. I told her to shoot me, and she hesitated." He couldn't make eye contact with Sam, looking just past him toward the house. He needed to make sure you were okay.

"You asked her to shoot you? What are you, psychotic?" Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. Bucky had made so many strides to separate himself from the Soldat; the therapy, working to right his wrongs, and sometimes, the dark side of Bucky would seep out, and Sam wondered if it was all for naught.

"Maybe I am", Bucky edged out, finally looking Sam in the face.

"What are you doing, man?" Sam tried to appeal to Bucky's humanity, the side of him he knew was crazy about you. "You're gonna push her away if you keep doing this."

"Doing what? Trying to protect her? I'm not always going to be around, and-". Sam could see the life return to Bucky's eyes, a sadness washing over him.

"and what, Buck?" Sam continued to push.

"and I can't lose her." Bucky could usually push his feelings to the recesses of his mind, but he felt it all crumbling down around him, the weight crushing on his chest. "The gun drills, the tactical training, they're all so she can protect herself. I know I agreed to be a part of the Avengers, to give up my life to save others, but with all that we've lost, Sam, everyone we've lost, this world just continues to prove that it doesn't play fair. No matter what I do, how I try to protect her, none of it seems to matter. I can't and I will not lose her. So she cannot hesitate. She hesitates, she dies."

Sam sighed as he rested a hand on Bucky's shoulder. He knew that Bucky was right; being an Avenger meant nothing if they couldn't take care of the ones they loved. "Buck, I get it. I've got a sister and two nephews who are always on my mind. I hate the fact that we went from being on the top of the world, to realizing that no one gave a shit about us." He was standing on his convictions, trying to rescue his family's business and save his sister's house all at the same time.

"But there are enough monsters and villains in this world, she doesn't need you to be another one in her life. Fix this, Bucky. Don't lose her like this."

****

The house quieted as Bucky entered the kitchen. AJ and Cass whispered to each other as they pushed the last bites of their pancakes around their plate. Sarah watched Bucky out of the corner of her eye as he circled the room. "There's some food left over, probably cold by now" Sarah muttered as she sunk further into her seat at the dining table, taking a sip of her coffee.

Bucky chose to ignore their response to his spectacle, his focus on you. "Where's Y/N? I need to talk to her first."

Sarah nodded, rolling her eyes at Bucky. "Mhm, you sure do. She's upstairs."

Bucky took the stairs two at a time as he searched the house for you.

You had the parts of the Glock 19 Bucky had given you, organized out on the desk of the guest room you were staying in when Bucky found you down the hall. He stood at the doorway, watching as you cleaned every inch with a cloth, just as he had taught you. A small smile slipped on his face when he realized you had been paying attention.

"If you want me to shoot you, you'll have to wait", you called over your shoulder, not bothering to look at him. Bucky rubbed his jawline as he sat on the edge of the bed behind you.

"I know you don't agree with my methods of teaching-", Bucky started. "Your methods?", you scoffed, dropping the magazine on the desk, the metal clattering against the table. You turned to him, your anger brimming at the surface. "You're tryna justify that stunt you pulled as a teachable moment?" You felt your throat go dry at the memory of holding a gun to your boyfriend's head, momentarily holding his life in your hands.

"I need you to know how to protect yourself. There are people out there, terrible people, who would do anything to get to me, including hurting you." You turned back to the desk, gently placing your hands on your thighs. You closed your eyes again, taking a deep breath. "Doll, are you listening to me?" Bucky tried to grab your attention.

Choosing not to respond, you instead stood and grabbed the grip of your gun, briefly examining the piece before you made quick work of connecting each component to reassemble the gun, the metal clicking as each part connected. Bucky watched in awe as you moved with the precision that he had only seen from soldiers during his time in the military. You slipped the full magazine into the gun, slamming it in place before you pointed the assembled gun at the vintage dresser that Sarah had set up in the corner of the room, in perfect stance, your arms stretched out just enough to brace for the recoil.

"Is that trained enough for you, Sargent Barnes?" You smirked, your words dripping with sarcasm without an ounce of humor in your voice.

"Alright." Bucky snatched at the barrel, taking the gun from you, jogging you out of your trance. "You've made your point." He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans.

You dropped down onto the bed, looking up at Bucky, tears welling in your eyes again. He sat down next you, his arm brushing against yours. You felt him gently squeeze at your thigh, once again feeling the touch that you knew belonged to your Bucky, the Winter Soldier long gone.

"I knew what I was getting into, Buck. I knew who you were, what you had done, and all of the danger that came with being with you." You placed your hand atop his, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. "and if that danger ever comes, you've prepared me to the best of your ability." Bucky cradled the side of your head in his hand, placing a kiss on your temple. You both sat in silence for a moment before you continued.

"But I could-, I would never be able to hold a gun to your head, let alone pull the trigger. If you think I ever could, you don't know me at all." You let out a shaky breath. "Buck, I was terrified. That wasn't you out there." Bucky's back straightened at your words. He retreated into himself, turning his gaze to the floor, trying to pull his hands into his lap, but you wouldn't let him. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "Tell me the truth. Is the Winter Soldier gone for good?"

He wanted desperately to tell you yes, that the only part of him that remained was James Buchanan Barnes, the boy from Brooklyn, friend to Steve Rogers, the man you loved, someone who would never dare to hurt you, but that would be a lie.

"Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, and he's never coming back."

You pulled Bucky in for a kiss by his chin, your lips barely grazing his before he had you in his grasp, his returning kiss passionate, as if he was apologizing in all the ways his words would fall short.

The Winter Soldier was still a part of him for now, but he'd do anything to protect you, even from himself.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel fan fiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #the winter soldier #the winter solider x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction

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thefallennightmare · 2 months

Text

The Coyotes Cry-One

*gif made by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: MafiaBoss!TattooArtist! Noah Sebastian x OFC.

Warnings/Tropes: violence, death, swearing, smut(very mature), angst, fluff, forced proximity, forbidden love, dark romance, mafia themes, arranged marriage, tattoo artist.

Summary: Centered on the story of a young bride whose fairy-tale vision of the Concrete Jungle is shattered when her father, part of the Irish Crime Family; McManus strikes a marital peace deal with the mafia head of OMNS, Noah Sebastian. Scarlett is faced with rage and conflict, as she is forced to work alongside her new husband in his tattoo shop that fronts for his mafia dealings. Devastating events leave Scarlett with the realization that there is more to Noah than meets the eye. "I would willingly, lay down my life for you if I had to." The power of love is thicker than blood.

Authors Note: Here is chapter one! I don't think this series will be more than six parts but you never know with how often I'm always adding things. This series will have mature themes throughout as a warning.

Tags[OPEN]: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @happi-goth @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @vinyardmauro @malice-ov-mercy @concreteemo @wheezybrenda @thisbicc @malerieee @mrs-zimmerman @srorgana1 @miserylovescompany1195-blog @embracethereaper42 @lizzieseveride @eclipseeetop @sundamariis @calleyx13 @krisslee18 @princessgh0st @aprosiacperson @xxrainstorm @ourdiabolikal-rapture @iamamatus @klutzy-kay24 @cookiesupplier @bngurngheart @idwt-money @rain-down-on-me

NOAH

The screams were muted due to the concrete confines of the room, the cold, moist air circulating us in a suffocating grip. But none of that mattered, the only thing that did was strapped to the chair in front of me. Cleaning the sharp blade on the once-white handkerchief, I clicked my tongue at the raw screams.

“Scream all you want. No one can hear you all the way down here,” I said while pointing to the concrete walls. “I mixed the concrete myself with a special formula. Think of it as soundproof.”

The man spat blood at my feet, nearly missing my black boots. “Fuck you!”

A chuckle to the left of me and I glanced over to one of my right-hand men, Joakim. Although, we in OMNS always called him Jolly.

“I applaud the fire in you,” Jolly nodded at the man. “You’ll need it.”

Twirling the knife between my fingers, I yet again asked the same question that I asked three times previously.

“Who killed Vincent?”

“I already told you fuckers, I don’t know!” The man, Barry, choked out on a mouth full of blood. “You’re asking the wrong guy!”

As Barry fought against the bindings, the chair scraping against the ground at our feet, I hummed in mock disappointment. “No, Barry. I don't think we are. My intel tells me that someone in the Irish Mafia killed a dear friend of mine.”

“I hate to tell you, your intel is wrong,” Barry said with a dry chuckle.

Suddenly his screams of agony sounded like music to my ears as I dug the knife deep into his thigh directly above the previous wound that Jolly had given him with the screwdriver. My hair fell into my eyes and I hastily brushed it back with my large hand, blood smearing in the dark strands. I’d been due for a haircut for the last few weeks but haven’t found anyone able to give me the correct Levi cut since my older barber passed away.

“My intel is never wrong,” I gritted out through clenched teeth while twisting the knife deeper.

Barry was a blubbering mess, dark tendrils of his hair covered the agony on his face so with a sharp nod from me, Jolly stood behind Barry and ripped his head back so I could watch in pleasure.

“Now, I’m only going to ask one more time,” I twisted the knife deeper. “Who killed Vincent?”

He did his best to writhe away but with my knife piercing him in place and Jolly’s tight grip on his hair, there was nowhere for Barry to run. Blood dripped from his mouth, his nose, and the cut on his eyebrow. Before we captured him, he had the looks of a movie star but now, I couldn't help but cringe.

“I already told you,” he sobbed, a mess of blood and snot. “I swear.”

Jolly and I shared a look for a brief moment before we pushed away from Barry to slink over to the far end of the room to have a conversation.

“Do you believe him?” Jolly tied up his hair into a messy bun.

I placed my hands on my hips and sighed. “I don’t think he knows who killed Vincent but he knows the right direction we need to look. We need to crank it up a notch and show him that OMNS isn't going to back down from this.”

Instantly, he understood and while he retreated up the stairs to my office, I titled my head at Barry.

“What family do you work for?” I asked.

His breathing was shallow and unsteady thanks to the hard blows of Jolly’s fists to his ribs but I had to marvel at this kid's drive to remain loyal.

“The Walsh’s,” he eventually answered.

My brows furrowed in confusion. “The Walsh’s haven’t been around since they moved their operations back to Boston. Why are you still here running the streets for them?”

Barry lifted his heavy head and wore a smug smile. “Call me committed.”

“No, I don't think that’s it,” I shook my head and took two large steps towards him, him shrinking back into himself. “I think it’s the fact that you’re lying to me and I fucking hate liars.”

“Fucking shit!”

He cursed when I ripped out the knife from his thigh to press the blade against his neck.

“You’re insane,” Barry shuddered when he noticed the playful gleam in my eyes.

“Maybe,” I shrugged. “But I also don’t like liars. Now, I’ll ask again. What family do you work for?”

“It’s a new family on the rise called O’shove it up your ass,” he spat in my face.

Literally.

His saliva and blood dripped down my cheek but I didn’t even flinch and made no effort to wipe it away. Instead, I broke out into a wide smile when I heard Jolly returning with something special in tow; something that made Barry’s eyes widen in fear.

“Wh-what the fu-fuck, man?! Do you just have that lying around?” He stuttered.

Glancing over my shoulder, I extended my hand to Jolly who in turn placed the handle of the katana in my palm. Standing straight now, I studied the old sword with careful precision.

“This used to be my great-great-great grandfathers; passed down through each generation. It might be old but I have the blade sharpened every once in a while, just in case,” I said while slowly removing the blade from the sheath.

The dim light overhead cast its faded yellow glow on the sharp blade and something inside of me twinged with sheer delight.

“Ju-ju-st in case fo-for what?”

Jolly snorted at the stuttering mess of Barry while leaning against the concrete wall.

“Tell us what we want to know and you won’t have to find out.”

The sharp tip of the katana pressed lightly against Barry’s jugular, all it would take would be one flick of my wrist to end it all however I refrained, not wanting to end the fun before I got what I needed.

“What family do you work for?” I asked again, this time with less patience than the last time.

Barry’s eyes glanced down from the long blade at his throat to Jolly then finally up to me as I towered over him. His bottom lip wavered as he finally nodded.

“Okay, okay. Promise you won’t kill me?”

He tried to wager but to humor him, I gave a curt nod. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll think about it.”

“Fuck,” Barry sobbed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m good as dead anyway. The McManus family don’t like rats and a low-level drug dealer like me isn’t worth saving.”

My grip on my katana slipped slightly at the name but I was quick to recover. “The McManus?”

He nodded widely. “ Yea. I work for the brothers; Connor and Murphy. I deal their drugs and run their errands.”

“So you’re their bitch?” Jolly asked.

Barry’s shoulders fell. “Essentially, yes.”

“Did the McManus brothers kill Vincent?” I asked while tightening my grip on the handle of the katana.

“No,” he shook his head, the blood from the wound above his eye now pooling into his eyes. “But they might know who did it. I can try and set up a meeting with them, on your behalf. Maybe they can lead you in the direction you’re looking for?”

Jolly gave me a look and I held up a finger, not quite finished with my conversation with Barry.

“Why the fuck would they listen to you if you’re just their bitch?”

This brought a wicked smile to his face as he used his shoulder to wipe away the blood from his chin.

“Because Murphy McManus doesn't like it when his daughter is threatened.”

A loud rumble erupted in my chest, like a ravenous growl, as I dug the blade of the katana deeper into Barry’s neck, blood now oozing from the fresh wound. I ignored his wails of pain, now only seeing red.

“You’ve got some balls kid to threaten the daughter of one of the most feared Irish Mafia families,” I said.

Barry shrugged in his binds. “I didn’t say it would be coming from me. Word on the street is that McManus' grandfather had issues with your grandfather some odd years ago. They’d believe me if I said the great Noah Sebastian was looking to start a turf war.”

With a scowl, I snapped my head at Jolly. “Get this piece of shit his phone so he can make the call.”

Never once faltering the blade from Barry’s neck, I watched with narrowed eyes as Jolly removed one of the binds around his wrist and tossed the phone on his lap.

“Make the meeting. If I hear one threat on the daughter, I’ll end your life before you even hang up the phone,” I seethed behind the mask of my hair as it fell into my eyes.

My heart beat like a thunderstorm in my chest at the thought of the McManus daughter. No one knew of her and what she meant to not only the family but me as well; besides my closest allies.

Barry’s fingers worked fast to type out a message before showing me the screen and with my free hand, I snatched it from him to read it.

Barry: The brother's food will be delivered at six p.m. tonight.

Unknown: What’s on the menu?

Barry: Japanese with a side of Swiss.

“Joakim is Swedish,” I corrected Barry. “I’m assuming this whole dinner rous is to keep the authorities off your back if they go snooping?”

“Look at you! I think you earned yourself a gold star,” Barry joked.

Jolly’s fist collided with his face, his neck snapping to the side, and the faint red mark from his ring began to rise on Barry’s cheek.

“Let me guess, he’s the muscle between the two of you?” Barry spat out a chunk of blood.

Not bothering to look away from his phone as a new message came in, I answered his question.

“No, that’s Ash. Trust me, you don’t want to meet him.”

Unknown: Dinner will be served in the study. 6 o’clock.

“It’s set,” I tossed the phone to Jolly who dropped it to the ground seconds before his boot came crashing down on it.

“What the fuck! You guys owe me a new phone!”

Placing the sheath back over the katana, I set it on the table along with the other wide variety of weapons and turned back to Barry with my hands crossed behind my back; grasping the weapon tightly. He glanced between Jolly and me and noticed the sinister gleam dancing behind my honey eyes.

“Hang on,” he began thrashing in the chair, free hand swinging widely. “You said I could live.”

“I did. But watch what you say next.”

Quickly, Jolly grabbed Barry’s free arm to drag his still-bound body over to the table behind me and held his wrist down. His hand was on display for my wicked plan.

“Barry, I have a question for you. If you answer wrong, well-,” I pulled out the hammer from behind my back and shook it in front of him.

His eyes widened in fear but I paid no mind to it, simply asked my question.

“Will Murphy’s daughter be there tonight?”

“Fuck no! Dumb broad never leaves her bedroom,” Barry answered. “She’s holed up in there all hours of the day. The only time she leaves is at 8 o'clock for her nightly walks.”

Jolly sucked in a breath just as I raised the hammer, bringing it down on Barry’s pinky, whose cries were overshadowed by the noise of his bones breaking.

“Why are you so obsessed with this broad?!”

I brought the hammer down again, this time breaking his ring and pointer finger. Now he was practically having an exorcism with how he was moving about on the chair, struggling to break free from the binds.

“One more question then I’m finished with this game,” I said while craning my neck to the side before getting eye level with the man. “Do you suspect the McManus family killed Vincent?”

While he stayed silent, the look that flashed over his hazel eyes told me everything I needed to know. Turning on my heels, I dropped the hammer on the table and began walking upstairs to leave Jolly to clean up until Barry’s voice halted me in my tracks.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the broad pulled the trigger herself. She’ll do whatever she can to get Daddy’s attention since she was never the favorite..”

My shoulders went rigid and I could faintly hear Jolly mutter under his breath something in Swedish before I grabbed the gun from behind my back that had been tucked in the waist paint of my black slacks and fired two rounds straight into Barry’s chest.

“Noah,” Jolly started.

I waved him off before dropping the gun on the table. “Let’s be real, Jolly. We weren’t letting him walk out of here alive anyway.

“McManus,” he sighed while rubbing his jaw. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

I cleaned the blood from my fingers and rings before letting out a long breath. I knew he wouldn’t remember the name but that name haunted me for years, plagued my entire existence in more ways than one.

“They’re one of the most notorious Irish Mafia families. Their lineage started in Ireland generations ago before relocating to Boston where the McManus brothers were raised by their grandfather, Fergal. They moved to Los Angeles when the brothers were in their mid-twenties.”

“Wait,” Jolly’s head snapped over towards me. “The twins that went on that killing spree all those years ago in Boston. The last anyone heard from them is when they shot Yakavetta in open court.”

“Exactly why they moved here. Fergal didn't appreciate the hot trail on them so they hid out here for a few years. But Fergal couldn’t handle laying low for long because he began building the ranks here. Overstepping on my grandfather's turf, because he was still young at the time.” I grabbed the weapons we used on Barry and tossed them into the bucket of bleach in the utility sink.

“You know a lot about this family,” Jolly noted.

I hummed. “My grandfather told me all about them growing up. He wanted to make sure I was well versed in the McManus family once I took over.”

Glancing down at myself, I hummed again in displeasure when I noticed the blood spatter all over my white turtleneck.

Should have worn the black one, idiot.

I went about cleaning up the mess, ignoring the slumped-over body in the chair for a moment.

“The daughter. Do you think she did it?” Jolly wondered.

I halted unraveling the plastic we used to wrap the dead bodies for a few seconds before letting my shoulders drop slightly. “I don’t believe so. While the McManus brothers do hire hitmen to do their dirty work, there’s no way Murphy would make his own blood do it.”

“I know there’s some sort of history between you and her. With all of us-”

His words trailed off when I snapped my eyes over to him. “There is no history, Jolly. She’s just someone who went to high school with us. That was years ago and I doubt she even remembers that we went to the same school. She was too busy being preoccupied with other things.”

All of us in OMNS grew up together since we were twelve years old, Jolly moved here from Sweden when he was ten. We’d all been inseparable for the last sixteen years in the schoolyard and now the streets of the Concrete Jungle.

Not saying another word, the two of us busied ourselves cleaning up our mess and by the time we returned upstairs to my office. The staircase to the hidden basement was located behind a bookshelf and while Jolly closed it, I rummaged through the drawers of my desk to find a different shirt.

Now dressed in a fresh black t-shirt, we stepped out of my office and the sounds of tattoo machines reached my ears and I smirked walking into the open lobby. Every one of my artists had someone in their chairs and my most sought-after artist, Nicholas, glanced up at me for a second before returning to tattooing his client.

“How’d the meeting go?” He asked.

“Didn’t work out. We have another one set for 6 tonight,” Jolly informed.

I went up to the counter of my tattoo shop and glanced down at the book. It was a full day of appointments not to mention the group of girls that came in for a walk in. They were chittering like birds about how it was the blonde's bachelorette party and she specifically wanted me.

In more ways than one.

While she was cute, she wasn’t my type.

Roger, the receptionist of Under The Right Lights Tattoo Parlor, and newest recruit of OMNS glanced at me over his shoulder.

“Oh hey, Noah. Are you ready for the walk-in?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not tattooing today. But I do have a job for you.”

His eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

“Tonight when the shop closes, stick around. We need your help with something,” I patted his shoulder.

“You got it, boss,” Roger nodded with a wide smile.

Turning on my heels, I stuffed my hands in my pockets to glance at my studio. I opened Under The Right Lights about six years ago and even though we had a slow start, once word got out that Noah Sebastian and Nicholas Ruffilo tattooed here, business flowed in through the doors.

I took over my grandfather's other business eight years ago but needed something to cover those dealings so that's when I thought of opening a tattoo shop with my best friends; my brothers. While Nicholas tattooed, Jolly ran the financial side of things, and Nick, or as we called him Folio, ran the motorcycle shop right next door. He was a mechanic, one of the best in town, and he often frequented here through the door to the left of Nicholas’ booth when he wasn’t busy fixing bikes.

Above my tattoo shop housed thirty apartments, all owned by me, and I lived in the penthouse on the tenth floor. Everyone in OMNS also lived in their own units so we could always be close to each other, in case something came up. With nine of the units being occupied by us, I rented out the other twenty-one for another form of income each month.

I treated everyone as an equal with the tattoo studio and OMNS but they also respected me enough to know that I had the final say with both. Things didn’t get approved unless I gave the okay.

Glancing down at my watch, I noticed that it was only four in the afternoon meaning we had a few hours until we met with the brothers. So I walked over to the back area of the shop where we used a private section to make a small gym where I knew Ash and Byran would be.

Ash was not only my bodyguard but he was also my trainer and Bryan took photos of the tattoos and ran our social media account.

“Tonight, six o'clock,” I said while crossing my arms.

Bryan wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded. “I’ll make sure the SUV is loaded up.”

“Thank you,” I then turned towards Ash. “I’ve got a body downstairs. Do you mind?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I’ll bring Matt. He needs a break from managing everything. Get out and smell the trees in the woods. Or the salty brine of the ocean.”

With a snort, I bid them goodbye before retreating into my office and ignoring the preposterous waves of the blonde in the waiting area and instead thought of a certain redhead.

SCARLETT

With a longing sigh, I brushed away the fire-red strands of hair from my face and adjusted my position on my bed to continue reading the book in front of me. It was the book Wolves: Behavior, Ecology, and Conservation by L. David Mech. This was the third time I’ve read but every time, I somehow learned something new.

I've been out of college with my degree for four years now and although I haven’t done anything since then, I still tried to keep up with my studies. The possibility of opening up a wildlife rescue still weighed heavy on my mind but I knew my father would never agree to it. His money was to be used for other business opportunities.

The spiral notebook was filled with my chicken scratch handwriting and after tossing down the pen, I shook out the cramp from my hand to glance at the clock on my nightstand. It was nearing six in the evening and when it would be time for dinner with my father and uncle, they had to cancel due to a meeting that seemed to come out of nowhere.

Next to the clock was a picture that made my heart drop to my stomach like it did every time. It was of me, my father, and my mother back on my eighteenth birthday and high school graduation; the last picture we took together.

Because she was murdered that night.

Eight years later the tears still burned in my eyes when I thought back to that night. We were driving home from dinner when someone crashed into our car and ran it off the road into a ditch. My father managed to pull me from the wreckage before the car burst into flames; my mother however wasn’t that lucky. We never found out who ran us off the road that night and whenever I asked about it, my father would wave me off and say one word only.

Revenge.

The relationship with my father was never the same since that night and once my Uncle Connor moved in, I retreated into myself. I loved them both dearly, but I blamed their life in the Irish Mafia for my mother's death. I did my best to remain respectful because I still lived in the McManus estate and knew I couldn’t make it on my own; not yet. My father had made it clear more than once that the only way I was to move out was either if I had my own money or married.

Hence why I was doubling up on my studies, I needed to find some kind of job with my degree, a simple job at a store or fast food place would not be enough to survive on my own. And clearly, my relationship with my boyfriend was nowhere near marriage level yet; we’d only been together for less than a year and never spoke about getting married.

I checked my phone and noticed Cory texted me a little while ago.

Cory: I have to cancel tomorrow night, sorry. Work is sending me out of town and won’t be back till Sunday.

I rolled my eyes knowing damn well he wasn’t the slightest bit sorry.

Me: OK. See you then, I guess.

I locked my phone, the sound echoing in the quiet of my bedroom, and I busied myself once again with the book in front of me until there was a soft knock on my door.

“Yes?” I called out.

The door cracked open slightly and a head of white curls popped their head inside and I instantly smiled.

“Hi, Dortha.”

“Hello dear,” our housekeeper smiled, resting her frail hands in the pocket of her apron. “I know your father and uncle can’t make dinner but I still made your favorite. If you’re hungry.”

My stomach growling gave way to my answer so with a chuckle, I let my studies be to follow Dortha out of my room and down to the dining room where I knew she already had a plate of food set up for me.

NOAH

The car ride across town to the McManus estate was filled with the ramblings of the other members of OMNS while I sat quietly behind the wheel, mind filled with more pressing matters. I gripped the wheel so hard that my knuckles were turning white, something Nicholas, who sat in the passenger seat, noticed right away.

“Are you alright?”

I nodded. “Just going over what I’m going to say.”

Pulling the car to a slow stop at a red light, I drummed my fingers against the dashboard, trying another thing to calm my nerves since the deep breathing exercises my therapist recommended weren’t working.

“Hey boss,” Roger spoke up from the back seat between Ash and Bryan. “Maybe someone else should drive. You seem nervous.”

My eyes sliced into him through the rearview mirror. “No one drives my car but me.”

With a shaking hand through his golden locks, he nodded and kept his head down the rest of the drive once I hit the gas again.

“Do you know what you’re going to ask them? Folio wondered from the seat behind me while tapping the wooden drumsticks he always carried on his lap.

“I’m thinking of coming out right and asking if they have any idea who killed Vincent,” I answered.

Jolly shifted in the seat behind Nicholas and without having to gaze over at him, I knew he wasn’t too thrilled about my idea.

“I’d say we just pop these fools. End this turf war once and for all,” Roger pipped up again.

His excitement for being brought along tonight was evident but I was suddenly regretting my decision.

“Chill, we need to be smart about this,” I said.

“We can’t go in there with guns blazing,” Jolly added.

I came to a stop in front of the large, gothic-like gate, and rolled down my window so I was able to click the button on the intercom.

“Yes?” A thick Irish accent responded.

I cleared my throat. “I have the brothers' dinner. Japanese with a side of Swiss.”

Only static came from the speaker for a long moment until the loud creak of the gate caused Roger to jump in surprise and Byran to stifle a laugh behind his hand. The SUV glided up the long drive with ease as the setting sun spilled inside casting all of us in an orange and purple glow. We all piled out as soon as the car was parked in front of the McManus manor and I nodded towards Bryan, Ash, and Roger.

“You three hang back in the foyer in case the brothers don’t want all of us in the meeting,” I said while clicking the safety on my gun before stuffing it in my back waistband.

While Ash and Bryan agreed, both double-checking their weapons, Roger on the other hand made his distaste for my orders known with a low scowl.

“All due respect, Noah,” he began.

I adjusted the peaky hat on my head and raised a brow. “Is there a problem, Roger?”

He shifted on his feet. “I’ve been the recruit for six months now, don’t you think I worked up being involved in one of these meetings?”

I bit the inside of my cheek to my snarky remark to myself but Folio was quick to respond in my place.

“Kid, calm down. It took Bryan six years to work up the ranks. Ash, it took him ten years.”

Roger gaped at the two of them who seemed to have played along with Folio’s joke and agreed with a nod.

“Can I atleast get a gun?” He outstretched his arms. “You guys are sending me into the warzone with no weapon!”

“It’s only a warzone if you make it one,” Ash said.

“No weapons for recruits,” I said.

Not wanting to waste any more time out here, I led the group of us up the crumbling steps and came to a stop in front of the door. Motioning to Roger, I waited for him to ring the bell, and glanced around the vast grounds of the McManus estate while stuffing my hands deep into the pockets of my black peacoat.

“Nervous?”

Peering to my left, I nodded to Nicholas. “A bit.”

He clapped my shoulder. “Let’s keep our questions short. Try to get the info we need then we can leave.”

“Yeah,” Folio agreed while shivering. “This place gives me the creeps. It looks like it's days away from caving in.”

Glancing up at the old brick mansion, I had to agree with him. It looked as if neither of the McManus brothers bothered to keep up with the maintenance of the home and the overgrown grass on the other side of the driveway was proof of that.

Suddenly the front door opened with an eerie creaking and all of our eyes met with an older lady with a head full of white curls.

“Yes?”

I stepped forward. “My name is Noah Sebastian. OMNS has a meeting with the brothers.”

Her brown eyes shifted between all of us before she slowly stepped to the side, letting us all pile inside the grand manor. While the outside needed some work, the inside was marvelous with expensive pieces of art and not a speck of dust anywhere.

“My name is Dorthea. I will let the brothers know you’re here,” she said with a thick Irish accent.

Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention and when I gazed up at the top of the stairs landing, all of my breath left my soul when those familiar hazel eyes met mine. All of the hairs not only on the back of my neck but on my arms stood straight with the buzz of electricity that shot through me when I noticed her eyes double in size. The brightness of her gaze struck a chord in my heart, playing a soft melody that only the two of us could hear.

It had been a long while since I’d seen her last but fuck, she still looked absolutely breathtaking like she did the night of high school graduation.

Her hair was deeper red than the last time we saw each other, now it cascaded down her back, and when she outstretched her arms on the wooden banister, her head tilted to the side in a way to assess all of these strangers in her home.

Although four of us weren’t strangers to her. We all went to high school together even though she wouldn’t remember us. She was always with the group of kids that were rich, too good to be seen with the bottom dwellers like us.

I removed my hat to hand it to Roger to hold onto it then shook out my hair from my eyes before slicking it back and I could have sworn I heard someone’s breath catch in their throat.

“Noah Sebastian, standing here in my house. I must say, I almost didn’t recognize you without the long hair.”

Well, shit.

“Saoirse McManus,” I hummed in response to her sarcastic tone.

A low scowl pulled on her lips before she pushed herself away from the banister and quickly scurried down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

It was almost bittersweet seeing her again after all this time. While I wish it had been under better circumstances, I knew that I couldn’t allow myself to get wrapped up in Saoirse McManus; not again. I had built an empire since dropping out of high school and I couldn’t let anything tear it down, especially a silly little crush.

It never was a silly crush. It was always more than that. You’re just bitter that she never felt the same.

Why would she ever have feelings for me? In her eyes and her financial stature, OMNS were nobodies; the gum on the bottom of their shoe. While they ran their empire up in the rich estates of the wealthy, we ran ours in the slums of the Concrete Jungle. There may have been a point in my life when I wanted to be in the same stature as her but now having earned my wealth, I realized that all I needed was my brothers.

Bullshit.

If that were the case, seeing her tonight wouldn’t have taken my breath away and cock twitched with such a dire need for her.

“What was that about her not remembering you?” Jolly asked.

I ran a hand over my mouth. “I didn’t think she would.”

“Hey,” Roger’s head popped in between Jolly and I. “That’s the daughter, right? You know, rumors are going around the CJ that she’s the one that killed Vincent.”

My eyes sliced into him and Jolly had to press a hand to my chest to keep me from wrapping my hands around his throat.

“The CJ?” I spat out through a clenched jaw.

Roger swallowed thickly. “Yeah. The Concrete Jungle. I thought you would understand the nickname since you were the one who created the Concrete Jungle. I spend a lot of time in the tunnels with groups of guys who tell stories of OMNS success. Why do you think I wanted to join so badly?”

“Do me a favor, kid. Stop lingering in the underground parts of the jungle because you don’t know what dwells underneath there. You don’t want to find yourself in a situation you can’t sweet talk your way out of,” I said.

“What?” He let out an airy chuckle. “Are you hiding a tank full of sirens? Or creating your own artificial intelligence?”

With a dark look filling my eyes, I gave him a smirk before giving him my back when I heard the faint footsteps of Dorthea returning.

“Just the Japanese and Swiss,” she pointed to us.

Jolly let out a groan. “I’m Swedish.”

“Follow me,” she hooked a finger at us, ignoring Jolly.

Giving the rest of my brothers a nod, we followed Dorthea down a long wide hallway, and I took in the sight of all the pictures lining the wall, noticing that they were family pictures of the McManus family.

The first picture was of the man who started it all over one hundred years ago, Cillian McManus. It continued for a long while until Fergal’s familiar face caught my eyes, followed by his son, then Connor, then Murphy with his wife and Saiorse.

Coming to a brief stop, I studied the picture for a long moment, before Jolly pulled me along.

“The brothers are allowing you five minutes of their time,” Dorthea informed as we stopped in front of a set of double doors and her hands wrapped around the golden knobs.

“How generous,” I grumbled under my breath just before the door opened.

Inside was a huge library/office combo. Three out of four of the walls were just bookshelves full of books, the smell of old literature tickling my nose. Thick black carpet covered almost every inch of the floor and in the center of the room were two long burgundy couches that sat horizontally to an old fireplace that was blazing with hot flames. I felt the warmth on my face when Jolly and I stepped inside.

On either couch sat the brothers, both having a glass dangling from their fingers, and their hushed conversation seized when they noticed our presence.

“Ah,” the taller one with shorter hair muttered as he slowly stood to his feet and extended his free hand toward me. “You must be Noah. An acquaintance of mine said I’d be expecting you. I’m Conner.”

After we shook hands, Connor motioned to the other man on the couch, who still had yet to stand up. “That is my twin brother Murphy.”

Giving him a curt nod, I clasped my hands behind my back. “This is Joakim. We won’t take much of your time. But we do have one question to ask.”

While Murphy muttered something in Irish under his breath, Connor urged me to ask.

“About six months ago, a dear friend of ours Vincent Riquier was murdered, his body being left on the doorstep of my tattoo shop. I had some intel point me in the direction of someone in the Irish family.”

Connor's brow raised as he took a small drink of his amber liquid. “Are you saying we had something to do with it?”

Jolly shook his head. “Not at all. We were just wondering if you could let us know if our intel was correct since it came from one of your men.”

This caused Murphy to snap his head towards us and brushed away the long hair from his face; blue eyes boring into us. “One of our men?”

“Barry,” I said flatly. “Movie star looks. Although, I must say that was before.”

The twins shared a look before Murphy rose to his feet with a roar. “You killed him?”

I stood toe to toe with him, not showing him an ounce of fear because I knew guys like this could smell it.

“Never said I did,” I answered with a shrug.

“Imigh leat,” Murphy waved a hand in my face before turning on his feet to face the fireplace.

Connor let out a displeased noise at his brother before giving Jolly and me a tight smile, the lines in his face creasing. “You must ignore my brother, he just argued with his daughter before you arrived.”

Saoirse’s face crept into my mind but I did my best to push away those feelings. I couldn’t give away my feelings for her; the ones that stayed buried for so long.

“Again with this foolish dream of opening an animal rehab facility. Why she wants to work when she has all the money I can give her if she just stays here is beyond my thinking,” Murphy muttered after downing the rest of his drink, slamming the cup on the table next to the couch.

“About Barry,” Connor ignored his brother while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. “If you did kill him, one less thing for us to worry about. He was a pain in our arses anyway.”

“So then, as a token, you’ll give us the direction we need to look into for our friend's death,” Jolly tried while scratching the facial hair on his chin.

With Connor’s silence, his gaze locked in on us with his hand on the holster on his hip, and Murphy’s back still to us, I nodded towards Jolly, who understood and we bid the brothers goodbye.

“Thank you for your time,” I said before ushering Jolly outside of the room before me.

Once we were back in the solitude of the hallway, we rushed back to the foyer with a burning feeling at the back of my neck. Something wasn’t right, their silence told us way too much and I needed to get far away from here.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Jolly noted.

I agreed with a low rumble in my chest, placing my hat back on. “I know. They were quick to dismiss us and I didn’t like how Connor reached for his gun.”

Hearing our footsteps echo loudly on the marble floor, Bryan glanced up from his phone with furrowed brows.

“That was quick.”

“We’ll discuss it in the car,” I said while ushering everyone outside quickly.

One by one we all piled out of the house and before I stepped through the threshold, I dared a glance back up to the stairs landing, hoping to catch sight of her but instead, I locked eyes with two large guards who had their guns in their grasp.

“Boss, this doesn't make sense,” Roger turned swiftly on his heels and blocked me.

“Roger, not now,” I said sternly. “Get to the car. Now.”

“All these rumors, they had to start somewhere,” he continued to ramble on.

I backhanded his chest and then threw a thumb over my shoulder to the men who were now descending the grand staircase. Finally, when Roger noticed them, he scrambled out the door, me swiftly following behind him.

All of us gathered around the SUV to discuss what our next plan of action would be. There were other Irish families I could talk with but they all had connections to the McManus brothers so they wouldn’t give me anything.

As I was chatting with Nicholas, Roger began pacing in front of the car, running a hand through his hair.

“What’s his problem?” Nicholas mumbled to me.

“He thinks the brothers are hiding something,” I informed him while shrugging. “I must admit, I feel the same. They were too closed off in there. And the way those guards were staring at me, I swore they were looking for a fight.”

“In retaliation for Barry?”

“Could be,” I ran a hand over my chin. “Or they don’t appreciate us showing up tonight. Either way, we need to get out of here.”

Everyone began loading into the SUV, besides Roger, who was still pacing.

“Roger, get in,” I demanded from behind the driver's door.

"They're a bunch of liars. all of them. I bet you that broad upstairs knows something.”

All I saw was read for a few moments before I realized that I had Roger pinned to the hood of the car by his throat, my tattooed fingers cutting off his oxygen. Strands of my hair fell into my eyes but I made no effort to let up my grip.

“Watch how you speak about her,” I spit out.

Roger’s eyes were white as he struggled to fight me, his nails digging into the skin of my wrist.

“Shit,” Ash muttered while scrambling out of the car to wrap his arms around my chest, trying to pull me away. “Let him go, Noah. You’re going to kill him.”

With an effortless grunt, I tossed Roger to the ground and did my best to fix my hair when Ash let me go as the front door of the manor opened; Saiorse walked out with the two guards following closely behind her.

She paid us no mind as she trotted down the steps and began walking the opposite way of us. Glancing at my watch, I noticed that it was 8 p.m.

“The only time she leaves is at 8 o'clock for her nightly walks.” Barry’s words from earlier rang in my ears.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I grumbled while adjusting my jacket.

Roger quickly scrambled to his feet and when he finally noticed the two guards who had stopped walking to watch us with careful eyes, something switched in Roger’s mind. My jaw began to drop when I saw him reach for something underneath his shirt, my next words came out slow, almost inebriated.

“Roger, no!”

The sound of gunfire erupted, and all of us dropped to our knees around the car for some sort of protection. Bullets ricochet off of the car, one nearly missing my forehead as it blew the hat clear off my head. I strangled out a vacant cry while pressing my body closer to the car. My heart was beating widely in my chest and my hands shook but I didn’t have time to dwell on almost dying, I needed to stop this before it became worse than it already was.

“Mother fucker!”

Glancing over my shoulder, I cursed when I saw Folio go down to the ground clutching his thigh, his gun skidding halfway down the long driveway. I crawled over to him, keeping my head down when I noticed that a couple more McManus guards had emerged from inside and now we were outnumbered; seven to nine.

Blood oozed out from the wound on Folio’s thigh and I grabbed a handful of his shirt, ripping a large piece from it.

“You’re alright; just a flesh wound,” I reassured him while fixing the makeshift tourniquet.

“Where the hell did Roger find a gun?” Folio asked through clenched teeth when I squeezed too hard on his wound to stop the bleeding.

“I’m about to find out,” I patted his cheek before ripping my gun from behind my pants and clicked off the safety.

Using the open door of the SUV as a shield, I peered around it to see that four guards were lying dead on the ground, two were hiding behind the pillars of the manor for their own protection, and one was coming towards us.

Firing off two rounds, both hitting the mark of the guard's chest, I watched him crumble to the ground and then gave a sharp whistle towards Jolly who was firing his weapon in the car through the shot-out back windshield.

“Two on the porch!” I yelled over the sounds of gunfire.

Jolly nodded and I gave him protection against the other two guards who were firing their weapons from behind a bush, he snuck up to the two guards hiding on the porch, their lives ending before they even noticed him.

Now the numbers were in our favor so slowly rising to my feet, I stepped out from my shield and called out to the last two McManus guards.

“You’re not walking out of this alive!”

“Imeacht go fánach ort féin is ar do chnapán miúlach!” A deep voice rumbled out from behind the bus.

A flash of red caught my attention and I forgot for a moment that Saoirse was outside when the shootout began. I could hear my heart in my ears with worry if she’d been hit but when I saw her slowly rise to her feet due to one of the guards pushing her to farther safety, I breathed a little.

Until a gun went off to my left and with sharp eyes, I watched as the bullet hit Saoirse in the arm, blood splattering against the fading white paint of the house.

“Bitch! That’s for Vincent!” Roger bellowed his victory.

I let out a vicious growl as I tackled him to the ground, laying fist after fist into his face. Poor kid never saw me coming and gave no fight against me. By the time I finished, my knuckles were broken and raw, covered in not only my blood but his as well. Roger’s face was a mangled mess as he rolled over to his side, spitting out chunks of spit mixed with blood. For a final measure, I laid a swift kick to his stomach making sure he wouldn’t get up for a while. Through the white noise in my brain, I did my best to calm my breathing when I gazed over my shoulder to the carnage that lay in our wake; all thanks to Roger’s trigger finger.

Besides Folio, all of my men were unharmed and it seemed as if Folio would be fine. However, out of nine McManus guards, only two remain. One held something to Saoirse’s arm while the other tossed his gun to the ground, showing us he surrendered.

“Is she alright?” I called out to them.

“Fuck you, Noah!” She spat, eyes almost as red with fury as the color of her hair.

Yeah, she was fine.

Through the eerie silence of the night air, I watched as the front door carefully opened then both the McManus brothers stepped into the carnage.

“Saoirse!” Murphy’s voice boomed.

“She’s over here!” The one guard who was tending to her wound called out while pulling them out from behind the bushes.

I sucked in a breath when I saw all the blood staining the gray long sleeve of her sweater as the guard quickly whisked her inside, her father right on her tail. The look of pure hatred was on Connor’s face as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Whose bullet hit my niece?” He asked.

I pointed to the broken body of Roger, who was still struggling to rise to his feet. “I’ll take care of him, I promise you.”

Conner gave a curt nod before hooking his finger in my direction. “You. By yourself. Now.”

Licking my lips, I nodded and handed over my gun to Ash, who looked at me with bewilderment in his eyes.

“Are you insane?” He demanded. “You can’t go in there by yourself.”

“If they wanted me dead, I would be,” I said with more reassurance in my voice than I was feeling.

Giving a soft smile to the rest of my men, letting them know I’d be fine, I stepped back inside the manor with Conner close behind.

SCARLETT

“What the fuck!” I screamed while pushing myself away from the table, but hissing as pain shot through my arm.

The doctor we had on standby informed me that it was merely a flesh wound I suffered and closed it up with a few stitches and some pills for the pain.

“Watch your tongue,” my father warned while not looking away from his plate of food.

“You just told me that I’m supposed to marry Noah Sebastian! How the fuck can I watch my tongue?! This is absurd! You can’t make that decision for me.”

He pushed away his plate with a sigh and then steepled his fingers together. “I can because I am your father. And for the price of peace, I couldn’t deny his offer.”

I nearly fell back into my seat at the dining room table. “His offer? This was his idea?”

My Uncle Conner nodded. “That man is quite the negotiator. He didn’t want any more bloodshed and for a truce, he asked for your hand in marriage; we agreed on one condition.”

“Oh, I can't wait to hear what this condition was,” I placed my hand on my hip. “Does he want a baby in a year? Do I have to abide by his command? Am I to be locked away in a castle for the rest of my life?”

“Far from that,” my father lit his cigar, puffing the smoke into the air. “We agreed that you can marry him as long as he kill the man that shot you.”

My eyes widened. “The kid? Fucking hell, dad! He can’t be more than twenty years old!”

“Then he shouldn’t have been involved in a game that was designed for men!” My father’s fist slammed on the aged oak of the table.

I didn’t even flinch, being so used to his outbursts like this. Instead, I fought back harder against this offer.

“What about Cory?” I questioned.

“Who?” My father’s thick brows furrowed as the age lines in his forehead creased.

“The boyfriend,” my uncle informed him while swirling the ice cubes around in his cup.

My father did a double take. “How the fuck do you know?”

“Fuck you, I know shit,” he shrugged.

“Very well,” my father sighed. “It’s not like this relationship would have worked out anyway. You will end it and move in with Noah by Friday.”

“FRIDAY?!” I screeched. “That’s in two days!”

“The wedding will be at the end of the month,” my uncle informed me.

Too much information had been thrown at me all at once and I pinched the bridge of my nose to keep myself from crying. I typically wasn’t a crier but from the moment I laid my eyes on Noah Sebastian in the foyer of my home, all of my old feelings came rushing in like a tidal wave and I still didn’t have time to process that.

“If I say no to this deal?” I shot back.

Neither my uncle nor father said anything, simply motioned to the guns that lay next to their plates. Now, I knew they didn’t mean they would kill me. Instead, they would kill Noah and every last mother fucker who had anything to do with tonight.

“This is unbelievable!” I yelled while throwing my hands up and storming my way up the stairs to my bedroom.

The sound of my door slamming shook the old bones of the manor and I yanked the ends of my hair with a scream. I despised not only this life but also the fact that I couldn’t do anything about this arrangement. Not when the lives of innocents were on the line.

Innocents? They shot you!

Shaking the thought from my mind, I fell back onto my bed with a groan. It was easy to tell that the kid was the one that started the unnecessary gunfight. Noah was only doing what he could to protect his people.

Those gorgeous almond eyes haunted me for years, plaguing my entire existence since I first saw them freshman year of high school. I never could do anything about it, however, knowing that we ran in different circles and it was forbidden. His family ran the slums while mine ran the prestige wealth.

The last I saw of Noah or any of those guys was the night of high school graduation. While Noah dropped out three months before, the rest of his friends walked across the stage and he was there for support. Our eyes locked across the vast space of the room. His hair was long but pulled back into a high bun, showcasing the sharpness of his cheekbones as he gave me a gentle smile. Of course, I had to ignore the pull of my heart strings, no matter how strong they were.

If someone had told a teenage me that now, eight years later, I’d be marrying that man who captured my heart so long ago, I’d laugh in their face.

Running a hand over my face, I sat up in bed and quickly dialed Cory’s number so I could deliver the news. On the eighth ring, he answered almost breathlessly.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” I played with the ends of my hair. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

There was some rustling on his end before his breath came through. “I suppose.”

Ignoring the tone, I took a deep inhale to prepare myself for breaking the news to him. “There’s no easy way to say this. But my father just informed me that he arranged a marriage for me. I have to move in with the guy on Friday. I tried to fight it, tried to fight for us, but I didn’t have a choice. It’s something I have to do.”

There was a very long beat of silence on Cory’s end before his voice broke through. “Ok. Thanks for letting me know.”

My heart dropped to the pits of my stomach. “W-what? That’s it?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Scarlett? You said it yourself, you don’t have a choice in this. Why fight for something that has no end in sight?”

I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard to not snap at him but eventually failed.

“You know, you’re right. What’s the fucking point,” I seethed.

Before I could hang up on him, I heard the click and stared down in disbelief at my now black screen.

“What a piece of shit!” I bellowed while tossing my phone onto my bed.

My knee bounced in anger, that conversation adding more fuel to the fire, and as much as I wanted to scream out my frustrations I knew that it would be futile. Instead, I dragged my feet into the large walk-in closet and began packing up things that I knew I would need in my new life.

NOAH

Wiping away the blood from my rings, I stepped into the lobby of the quiet tattoo shop and noticed Nicholas closing up his section.

“How’d it go tonight?” I wondered after tossing the rag into the bag he had opened.

The one we planned on burning anyway so any evidence would be gone in the flames.

“Slow night but those aren’t bad every once in a while,” he answered before motioning to the door I previously walked through. “All finished?”

“Yeah, Jolly and Folio are cleaning it up. This one was messier than I would have liked. I’ll admit, the kid put up a hell of a fight,” I said while leaning against the wall with crossed arms.

The tattooed muscles in my forearms flexed.

“Did he say where he found the gun?”

“Bought it off of someone on the street before we left that night. Apparently, he had a feeling I wouldn’t allow him to have one and he felt like he needed protection,” I informed Nicholas.

Who, in turn, snorted while packing up his tattoo gun. “A lot of good it did.”

My lips parted to speak but with the sound of the bell dinging above the door, revealing that someone had stepped inside.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” the words died in my throat when I saw who walked inside.

Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, her green eyes standing out amongst everything else about her. She carried two suitcases behind her and one large duffel bag on her shoulder.

“Hi,” I said while standing straight up.

All of the breath inside of me left me with a whoosh of air as the excitement of our arrangement finally filled me. When I first brought up the idea to the McManus brothers, I fully expected them to deny it. Much to my surprise, they agreed almost immediately with the exception that I take care of Roger, as promised.

Not even an hour after sending the picture to Murphy, his daughter was standing in front of me; bags in tow.

“Hi?” Saoirse scowled. “Do you know what the fuck I had to go through to get here? The number of times I had to circle the building to find somewhere to park? Two blocks away. Not to mention, how many homeless people stopped me along the way to ask for either money or drugs? And all you can say is hi?”

Biting my lip at my smile, I walked over to the receptionist's desk to rest my elbows on it.

“Are you finished?” I teased with a playful gleam in my eyes.

She scoffed, appalled. “Am I finished? No, Noah. Far fucking from it. How dare you bid for my life without my consent? This isn’t the 1900’s where this was a common thing! I have a say in who I should marry!”

“Then why are you here?”

Saoirse pursed her lips and when I realized she had nothing to say back, I pushed off the counter to close the distance between us, my height towering over her.

“Let’s get one thing straight. I didn’t pay for you. I don’t plan on holding you prisoner here. You have a say with anything and everything however to keep the peace from stumbling into my empire, if I had to arrange for your life, you bet your fucking ass I would do.”

Her lips mimicked a fish and when her shoulders slumped in defeat, I held out my hand to her. “Keys.”

“Excuse me?” She raised a brow.

“Give me your keys. OMNS Legacy Villas has underground parking. There’s already a reserved spot for you,” I informed her.

Shoving the keys in my hand, she sliced her eyes into me. “If it says Saoirse, change it.”

I quickly tossed the keys to Nicholas, who understood and slipped out of the shop to retrieve her car.

“Change it?” I repeated her words.

“The only people who call me that are my father and uncle. Everyone else calls me Scarlett,” she tossed her bags on the ground at my feet before crossing her arms over her black sweater.

This sass that fell from her blood-stained lips made me want to toss her onto the counter, rip off that sweater, and attack every inch of her skin with my teeth but I refrained. Instead, I brushed a hand through my hair and smiled.

“Scarlett it is.”

Scarlett glanced out the large window in front of the shop, watching as people walked past, every single one of them dealing with something in their own lives. The trash that littered the street was figuratively and literally. I had to admit that when I first opened up my empire here, the slums were extremely bad but with my help and funding, the streets had been cleaned up immensely; with a few stranglers still lurking around.

Especially in the underground.

“I don’t understand how you live here. The homeless, the drug deals, and the illegal activities I saw walking in here. It’s disgusting,” she shivered.

I stood next to her now, stuffing my hands in the back pockets of my pants. “Welcome to the Concrete Jungle, Scarlett.”

She turned her head up to me as I bent low towards her, my warm breath fanning those beautiful lips. “Where I’m the fucking king.”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian x ofc #mafiaboss!noah sebastian #tattooartist!noah sebastian #the coyotes cry noah sebastian #noah sebastian fan fictions

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｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 6

Little Birdie

Series masterlist

Previous part: Rearview next part: Twinkles

Word Count: 7,800

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions and descriptions of sexual acts, anxiety, and sever depression.

One week.

Steve made it one whole week without you.

It was one of the longest weeks of his life.

Every day for seven days straight he needed Bucky to convince him not to text or call you. That conversation usually happened as Steve paced around his living room, while Bucky sat on his couch, threatening to get up and rip the phone out of his hands.

He couldn't even text you outside of work hours considering you blocked his number from being able to do so, but that still didn't stop the itch he felt to just see your name on his phone screen again.

Both boys were in agreement that Steve eventually should reach out and try to fix the damage that was done, because if your situation at the compound needed to get better just for the chance that you would stay, you at least needed your best friends back. But Bucky knew you deserved time and space away from all of the drama to really process it and figure out how you wanted it to end.

Bucky also knew a week of no contact with Steve would help the both of you stop fueling the fire. The harsh words would settle, reflecting back on the situation wouldn't feel as dramatic, and maybe now Steve would finally find the right words without the sight of you every day.

Plus, he would be damned if he let Steve have a conversation this serious with you over the phone.

Sure, both boys were extremely worried about you. There were a few times Bucky wanted to call and check up on you too, but he knew his own feelings shouldn't come before yours right now.

Meanwhile, the week did you wonders. You spent your days reconnecting with everything you used to love. Your favorite restaurants in the area, old friends you barely got to see now that you lived so far, the old yoga studio you attended 4 times a week, and seeing your family every day was healing in ways you didn't even know your heart could reach.

Filling the mornings and afternoons with everything you loved was important, but you knew better than to completely disregard the real issues at hand. So every night you'd go on a walk to the pretty park a few blocks from your childhood home, and meditate under the moon.

With the one airpod you had left, you'd let music shuffle and allow the lyrics to guide your thoughts. Some were a little to sad to bare, others were so on the nose you couldn't help but to listen over and over again while allowing the words to comfort you like a hug you've really been needing.

You and Steve were still friends and shared a playlist on your favorite music streaming app. Every night at the park you could see he was listening to sad music, and knew he could see you doing the same. Dramatic? Maybe. Were the sad melodies making you feel understood and less alone? Absolutely.

Eventually he got brave and while you sat under the moon and admired the stars, your headphones read the newest notification.

Steve Rogers added new song to playlist: Little Freak by Harry Styles.

You sighed, but against your better judgement you let the song play to understand what he was trying to say to you. Though the song was familiar to you, all this music was new to Steve. He loved listening to all your favorite artists and bonding over the modern music. The message was loud and clear when you heard it.

"I was thinking about who you are, your delicate point of view, I was think about you. I'm not worried about where you are or who you will go home too, I'm just thinking about you. I disrespected you, jumped in feet first and I landed too hard. Broken ankle, karma rules."

You knew deep down that you shouldn't give him the satisfaction of a response. He didn't deserve to be invading your sacred space, he knew how much music meant to you. But on the other hand, he deserved to know how much he hurt you. If he got to send you a message through song, you deserved to speak your mind too.

So you added a new song to the playlist as well. My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift.

"Even on my worst day, did I deserve babe, all the hell you gave me? Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you till my dying day. I didn't have it in myself to go with grace. You're the hero flying around saving face. If I'm dead to you why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed? Look at how my tears ricochet."

After that, your phone was silent and nothing else was added to your playlist. You could see he listened to the song, then once it was over he was no longer active on the app.

You'd usually let your mind really reflect on what happened and what you wanted going forward, but you found that Steve took up most of your thoughts, and what to do about your career always came second to him.

It seems like your Mom and Dad's advice always leaned towards joining the Avengers. But why wouldn't it? All they ever wanted for you was to find something you love and run as far as you could with it.

Jane would've preferred you leave the field completely. You knew the nature of your job left her in a permanent state of unease about your safety, but you always reassured her that you were in good hands so you'd be okay.

Nathan was a little more understanding that not everything was so black and white, so he played devils advocate for all sides, and of course Luca wanted you to join the Avengers.

Hearing all of their perspectives was helpful to see the bigger picture, but at the end of the day, only Jane and Nathan knew the extent of what happened. You kept the whole Steve and Bucky situation away from your parents for the same reason you kept it away from Luca, you didn't want to ruin the illusion of a superhero for them.

Also.... Your parents really didn't need to know the nitty gritty on your escapades with the winter soldier.

All good things came to an end, especially having your whole family under one roof. After a whole week together, Jane, Nathan, and Luca had to go home to get back to their own life, while your mom and dad left to go on a few day vacation they had planned months ago. So it left you, and the family dog, Rocket, you happily agreed to take care of in their absence.

It was actually kind've nice to have time to yourself. You filled the day with morning yoga, brunch with a friend, some journaling and therapy, and a much needed nap. As the sun went down, you threw a toy around the house to try and get Rocket's energy out but it didn't help much. So after you cooked and ate dinner, you grabbed a tennis ball and walked him a few blocks to the park.

Luckily he was allowed off leash, and there was one other dog there for a little while that took an immediate liking to him, so they ran around and tuckered each other out while you sat on the grass and watched.

Eventually his little friend left, so it left just the two of you, the tennis ball, and the twinkling stars above head.

As lame as it felt to admit, the small spotty brown dachshund filled your soul with so much joy that you couldn't wipe the smile off your face. Throwing the ball, and watching his little legs carry him so far, so fast with tiny little hops was definitely one of the cutest things you've seen in a while.

He was a brave and trusting little creature in most aspects of life, but when the rumble of an approaching motorcycle got a little too loud for his liking, Rocket came running back to your side with his tail between his legs.

Sitting by your side, you picked him up and held him close to your chest while speaking calming words to him that he definitely didn't understand. You pressed little kisses to his forehead, and he licked your cheek in return causing you to laugh.

Feeling a little annoyed that the motorcycle pulled into the parking area for the park you were occupying on your own, you stayed vigilant of your surroundings. Fully prepared to leave when the man got off the bike, you set Rocket down and started reaching for his leash before the dog started running towards the man who was now walking towards the both of you.

"Hey! Rocket, no!" You jumped up from your spot to chase after the irrationality fast weenie. Tail wagging, and happy wiggles took over his little body as he hopped up on his back two legs to greet the stranger. "I'm so sorry! He usually never does this, I don't know why he's... oh."

I'm front of you stood none other than Steve Rogers himself, looking delectable and cozy in a cute teal crewneck and some casual pants with sneakers on. You immediately had a billion and one questions, but he was very obviously taken by Rocket who was also very obviously taken by Steve. There was a serious love as first sight situation happening as Steve leaned down with a big smile on his face to say hi to the little dog.

"It's okay!" Steve giggled, squatting down to get closer to Rocket. "He soooo stinkin' cute!"

"What are you doing here?" You asked, feeling throughly confused, and immediately feeling a little defensive and protective.

When he looked up at you, your arms crossed over your chest as a form of self soothing. It had been so long since you felt this uncomfortable energy, and having it ripple through your body once more felt like reconnecting with an old friend.

"Oh, I was just in the area." Steve said sarcastically, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders.

"Right." You agreed. "Casually in the area two hours away from home... on a motorcycle?"

"An hour and 45 minutes is only an hour and 20 on a bike." Steve noted with a shy smile.

"And how did you know that this area you so happened to be in was the same place I was, even though I never told anyone where I was?" You tilted your head to the side.

"Oh, it's easy. A little birdie told me." Steve noted.

"What was the bird's name?"

"That's not important." He denied, still smiling at the dog but standing to his full height.

"I don't know, feels kind've important to me." You hated that you had to hold back a smile as you looked at him. And you hated even more that you couldn't stop thinking about how stupidly cute he looked with helmet hair and a cozy crewneck on.

"Do you want to sit and chat?" Steve asked, suddenly seeming nervous. "...if not that's fine we can talk a different time if you want."

"You came all this way just to talk?" You questioned.

Steve swallowed nervously as he nodded.

“You could've called me." You challenged.

"Sometimes I think the old fashioned way of doing things is better." He shrugged. "...Also you blocked my phone number after work hours."

You sighed and pointed to your blanket on the grass. "Sit."

He quickly nodded and obeyed your orders. He sat first, and you sat next to him, Rocket trailed behind with the tennis ball in his mouth before happily handing it to Steve.

"Who is this little guy?" Steve asked, throwing the ball for him.

"Rocket"

"Like the raccoon?"

“No, he's my parent's dog. They just thought the name suited him. But they're out of town for the next 3 days so he's mine until then." You explained.

"I heard you spent some time with your family. You look a lot happier, do you feel better?"

"So Jane was the birdie who told you where I was." You noted.

"Will not confirm nor deny."

"Mmm" you hummed, reading between the lines. "Yes, it was very nice spending time with people who love me. I do feel a lot better, but it's going to take a lot longer than a week to heal from everything that happened."

"Of course it will, but all that matters is that it's getting a little better everyday." Steve noted. "I don't know if this helps, but I think I put the fear of the devil into Harvey and all his friends. Should you choose to come back, I don't think they would be an issue for you anymore."

"Do I even want to know what you did to them?" You asked.

"I don't think the details really matter too much right now." Steve shrugged once more.

A very uncomfortable silence fell over the two of you, so you threw the ball for Rocket this time.

"Would you like to talk about the hard stuff?" Steve raised.

"Can't we just talk about the weather?" You complained, dreading the inevitable.

"It's pretty chilly out tonight." Steve noted. "You're not cold?"

"Nope." You exaggerated the P at the end of the word.

"Good chat." Steve giggled at the astronomical amount of discomfort and awkwardness you were exuding. "This is never going to get better if we don't talk about it."

"I haven't cried in a few days." You told him. "I'm dreading losing my streak."

"Crying is healthy, and so is expressing emotions." Steve told you. "For example, I really missed you and I've been worried about you for a while now, so I'm here to express that."

"Oh, so you weren't just in the area?" You questioned.

"I took my motorcycle to get to you as fast as I could, because I waited a whole week and every single day that passed by without me giving you a much needed apology was killing me slowly with an amount of guilt I didn't even know was possible for a human being to feel. So no, I was absolutely nowhere near the area."

"Was that the apology?"

"No." Steve denied. "I'm really sorry for everything that's happened. I feel like every interaction I've had with you this past month has been a really bad reflection of my character. I should've went about the whole situation with a lot more logic and understanding, and I should've just listened to you and Bucky before letting anger get the best of me. It wasn't fair to you."

Your eyes stayed fixed on Rocket as he hopped around the grass, he watched you slowly nod while processing his words. "I never meant to hurt your feelings, and if I knew back then what I knew now, Bucky and I would've never..."

"I know." Steve saved you from having to finish that statement. "And our last training was just... completely unacceptable. I wish there was a logical explanation as to why I was so upset that day. Quite honestly, every time I even start to think about it I feel just horribly embarrassed and completely mortified. I'm sorry for not listening to you and telling you that I didn't care. I'm sorry for scaring you and completely breaking your trust. Most importantly I'm really fucking sorry for hurting you. I should've listened better and walked you to medical the second you said something, and the fact that I only made it worse has kept me awake every night since it happened."

"Bucky said you were having a tough few days." You noted.

"It doesn't matter." Steve declined. "I need to do better than that, and I will. You were having some really hard days too, but you never used it as a reason to treat me like shit."

“I was pretty shitty to you."

"But within reason."

"I told you to ignore my existence, called you some not so nice names, yelled at you a few times..."

"Because I pushed you to that level of anger."

"The fact of the matter is that you felt that way because you felt disregarded and disrespected by Bucky and I, and for that, I'm sorry too." You apologized. "I know you weren't interested in hearing me out before when this all happened, and at the time none of the words really came out right. So if you're open to it, I feel like I'd really like a chance to explain the choices I made."

"Of course." Steve practically whispered with a subtle nod, throwing the ball once more for the dog. "But don't feel obligated to. I don't think I would've come all this way if I hadn't already forgiven you."

"This is never going to get better if we don't talk about it." You used his own words against him.

"Ah, so you do think we could make it better?" Steve asked.

"Why wouldn't I want it to get better?"

Steve sighed. "You made it pretty clear in a few different ways that you didn't want me as a friend or even around you at all anymore. A big part of me was expecting you to turn me away for good when I showed up here."

"Oh... sorry." You mumbled sadly, suddenly feeling bad about all the words you shouted at him out of pure, hot red anger.

"S'okay."

"Growing up, I was never really the center of attention for anything. I was never good at anything, I got straight B's in school, I had 2 friends at most. Even as I got older and went through high school I wasn't paid much attention to. I never had a boyfriend, I struggled a lot to make friends, once I even went to my teacher to ask him a question 4 months into senior year and he thought I was a new student even though I had been sitting in the second row of his class every single day."

"...yikes." Steve cringed.

"Yikes is right." You agreed. "I never thought I would exceed at anything at all in life. My big plans were finding a 5-9 desk job to make ends meet then just keep going until I didn't have to anymore. Then I discovered the joy of helping people, realized maybe I'm not all that bad at it, and before I knew it I was at Shield. Then all of the sudden I went from never getting much attention my entire life, to having all eyes on me at all times. I was being held to impossibly high standards, the boys wouldn't leave me alone, it felt like regardless of where I was in the building, there was this big huge spotlight on me."

Rocket had finally gotten too tired to play with his ball, so he came back to you and Steve, and laid down right next to Steve's leg. "Even I was hearing about you before you had made it to high enough ranks to work with me."

"Getting no male attention your whole life will kind've mess you up a bit, but going from no male attention to getting thrown into the compound where only a handful of other women work will mess you up a lot."

"Like throwing a zebra into a pack of lions."

"Even that feels like an understatement." You grinned. "Harvey was the first guy I met that didn't feel like he was going to eat me alive, so I stuck with him."

"He was your first boyfriend?" Steve asked, sounding genuinely appalled.

"He was my first everything." You admitted shyly. "I thought he was one of the good ones, like that one boy you waited your whole life for. But obviously I was stupid, and that turned out to be one of the bigger mistakes of my life."

"He's the stupid one, not you." Steve denied.

"When I met you and Bucky, it was a big breath of fresh air. You guys helped me realize that Harvey was bad for me, but at that point I was already convinced he would be the only guy who would ever be stupid enough to fall in love with me. So I stayed way longer than I should've, but in the meantime I felt like I had opened up to you and Bucky far more than I ever had to Harvey. We started training together and talking more, and at that point I felt like I had given you so much more of myself than I had ever given anyone else in my life. Which I know sounds odd, but we were having these really good conversations that made me feel really vulnerable but in a good way, and we had built so much trust and understanding of each other that I never had to question what your intentions were when you were around."

Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. That was the only word Steve could think of at the moment. How he felt, how he treated you, how he made you feel, he was an asshole.

"I'll spare you details, but after Harvey and I officially called it quits obviously I was really fucking sad. I wanted to see you, but you were away on a mission and I just needed to be with a friend so I went to Bucky's place instead. I had all of this new found freedom, paired with this gut wrenching feeling that I was going to be alone and unloved for the rest of my life, and a good friend in front of my face who was just so kind and gentle...things just happened. I wasn't the one to initiate, but I definitely didn't put a stop to it because for once it was really nice to feel wanted. We didn't even kiss or see each other naked, it felt like less of a big deal to me and far less vulnerable or intimate than most of the stunts and challenges I let you guide me through in training. Bucky and I weren't trying to be malicious and we had no bad intentions in our choice to not tell you, I was just afraid that you wouldn't understand and that you'd take it the wrong way. Which, with all due respect, you didn't understand and by the time I even got a chance to try to explain it to you, we were both so angry and defensive that none of the words would come out right."

Working up the courage to look at Steve to gauge any sort of emotional reaction from him, his face was full of remorse as his eyes stayed set on the dog as his hands gently pet his long body and scratched the top of his head.

You took the chance to take a deep breath and let your palm sink into the fluffy park grass, one last ditch effort to ground yourself before the getting into the hardest part of the conversation. "That fear of misunderstanding and miscommunication is exactly why you didn't tell me or Bucky or anyone for that matter that you liked me. And just like how the information about what Bucky and I did got to you in the wrong way at the wrong time, that information got to me in the very wrong way at the very wrong time. And just like you, I didn't understand, and I felt hurt and betrayed because of it."

You watched Steve's cheeks turn red before he hid his face in his hands and let out a groan, earning a little smile from you that he couldn't even see. "Can we just talk about the weather again?"

"Sure thing." You agreed. "I think I lied to you on accident, because now I am kind've cold."

"Wow I'll never forgive you." He joked dryly, mumbling into the palms of his hands.

"That's okay, we can add it to the list of dumb shit we gotta talk through." You giggled. "Well, seems like that covers the weather category again. Are you ready to come out of hiding?"

He peeked one eye out between his fingers. "No. I kind've wish the floor would swallow me whole right now."

"Wow, I didn't think that you had a weak spot, but I found it." You enthused.

Although it was at much too high a cost, seeing a genuine smile on your face for the first time in over a month was like a big breath of fresh air to Steve.

"I'm not covering my ears, I can still hear you perfectly fine. Please continue." He grumbled.

"Just to put you out of your misery and conclude that horrifically long sob story I just subjected you to..." You started. "I was only hurt in that moment because after fooling around with Bucky and getting the information that you liked me sprung on me, it felt like I had lost the only two people in the compound who didn't see me as or treat me like an object of some weird sexual fantasy. Part of me even felt mad and embarrassed at myself for believing that we could've been friends without you guys seeing me that way. Plus, I had all those people in the compound already saying the only reason I was getting so far in my career was because I was sleeping with you, and I so desperately didn't want them to be right. So, all of that being said, I'm sorry too, I should've never been so mean to you. I'm sorry that Bucky and I hurt you, I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions and not letting you explain yourself while accusing you of things you'd never do."

"Like I said earlier, I already forgave you." Steve slowly let his hands fall from his face, cheeks still stained a pretty pink color.

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve an apology." You reminded him. "We both hurt each other, it's not fair for you to take all the blame."

"I feel like I'm going to throw up" Steve took a deep breath.

"Don't do that" you shook your head. "Please don't throw up."

"I hope you know that our friendship has always meant a lot to me, and absolutely none of it was a scheme to sleep with you." Steve braved through the hard part of the conversation he absolutely wished he never had to think about again.

"Yeah, I do now." You reassured him. "I'm sorry I said that."

"I really just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable." Steve explained. "Especially in an environment where you were already getting eaten alive. Plus I was your boss, and you had Harvey, and I didn't want to ruin our friendship... and, yeah, I dunno. It was just a mess. I didn't tell Bucky because I didn't want him to tell me to tell you. He figured it out on his own, by the way. Apparently my eyes twinkle too much, whatever that means."

"I'm not uncomfortable, and yeah, you do have really twinkly eyes." You grinned.

"I guess that's your fault" Steve jokingly sassed.

"Oh so now we're pointing fingers?" You took fake offense.

"From this point on, I'd really like it if everyone could just ignore the twinkle in my eyes so we can all get back to being friends like we were before." Steve said, giving you a really easy escape to officially denying him.

"But I think the twinkles are so pretty!" You enthused, giggling when you could practically see his heart drop.

"You shouldn't be saying things like that when you know I already feel like throwing up." Steve shook his head and clutched his stomach.

"But I mean it." You confirmed. "Knowing what I know now, why would we ever go back to being how we were before?"

Steve swallowed thickly, then his hands started exaggerated movements to further get his point across. "I'm trying to give you an easy way out of telling me you don't want me back in the same way."

"I understand, but that wouldn't be true." You giggled. "I do remember you stating very clearly that you aren't my boss anymore, am I remembering that correctly?"

"No, technically I'm not you b-" He rambled quietly.

"Do we think this would do anything to harm our sweet little Bucky boy?"

"No. He's been going out with Natasha and has been trying to get me to ask y-"

"You we're so kind as to cut me some deals, so I've got one for you too. Let's take some time to let everything settle and heal over, then when the time is right, we'll explore more of that little twinkle, alright?"

"Okay." Steve nodded wide eyed and enthusiastic.

"Yeah? Are you going to throw up?" You questioned with a smile.

"Maybe only a little bit." He continued nodding.

"I guess that's better than a lot-a-bit" you justified.

"So we're okay?" Steve asked, twinkly eyed and puppy dogged face.

"We're okay." You confirmed. "Can I give you a hug? You look like you really need it."

Steve opened his arms for you, and you both had to awkwardly lean over Rocket who was instantly stayed tucked next to his leg. Embracing him tightly, you realized just how badly you needed it too.

Both unwilling to let go for a little while, you took the time to appreciate his body heat that was a stark difference between the cold air outside.

"I'm sorry." Steve quietly apologized again.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too." You accepted. "I really missed you, Stevie."

"I missed you too, Bug. I've been so worried about you lately." One of his hands was very sweetly rubbing your back.

"Sorry." You sighed. "I've been trying my best."

"I know. That doesn't make me worry any less."

"I love you." You reminded him for the first time in a while.

Steve relaxed and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding onto. "I love you more."

Although you could've hugged him forever, the two of you mutually unwrapped yourself from each other.

"How is your shoulder?" He questioned remorsefully.

"Oh, it's fine." You told him. "It feels so much better. I've been doing yoga all week and it's held up nicely."

"Good, that's good." He nodded. "And have you put any thought into what you're going to do about your job?"

"Everyone seems to want me to do something different." You sighed. "I've been coming here almost every night just to think about it. It's really nice that the sprinklers don't turn on at 10 pm."

“What do you want to do?"

"I think I know what I want, but I'm really scared of making the jump." You explained.

"I'm not here to talk you in or out of anything, I was just curious." Steve grinned. "You still have the rest of the week to think it through. But just know that I have no doubt in your ability to handle a big scary jump"

"I can usually only handle big scary jumps because most of the time, you're down at the bottom waiting to catch me." You admitted.

"Well regardless of what you choose, I'll still always be here for you." Steve reminded you sweetly. "I just hope you do what you think is best for you, and not what other people want you to do."

“That's the thing, I don't think I know what's good for me."

"Are you kidding me? You have great intuition." Steve said. "Your just need to gain back trust for that little voice in your head that's telling you what to do."

"The same voice that bullies me every day?!" You asked with a giggle. "Absolutely not, she gets no say in any of my choices nowadays."

Steve close lipped smiled at you, his dimples setting deep into his chiseled cheeks. "Then forget you even have a brain and listen to your heart."

"She's also been really problematic recently." You noted. "I don't like her very much right now."

His smile turned into a pout. "That sounds like a very tough thing to not like about yourself."

"Tell me about it." You agreed. "But we're working on it."

"Once again, I guess that's all that matters." Steve noted. "So you can't make a big decision with your heart or your head, and your shoulder is out of the question. We're running low on body parts."

"Maybe I'll let Rocket make the choice for me." You grinned at the sleepy dog.

"I think Rocket should be an Avenger... actually, I think Rocket should come home with me and be my dog instead." Steve smiled, petting the dog once more.

"My parents would hunt you down for sport if you ever took this dog." You giggled. "He's their favorite child."

"But I love him!" Steve pouted like a child. "He's just so fucking cute! Have you seen these ears?!"

"No pets allowed at the compound" You reminded him, nudging his arm. "Maybe that's all the more reason to quit."

“I think that's reason to break the rules, not to quit." Steve corrected.

"Captain America suggesting I break the rules?!" You questioned with a gasp.

"Am I not the same man who's whole career was founded off of breaking the law?" Steve questioned right back. "When have I ever followed the rules?"

"Wow, bad to the bone."

"That sounded sarcastic." He noted as his eyebrow raised in question.

"Me? Sarcastic? Never." You denied.

Rocket readjusted to get more comfortable, but crawled into the hole within Steve's crossed legs and curled up into a little ball in his lap, with his head resting on his thigh.

"Okay that's it." Steve declared, fists balling up to keep himself from unleashing his cuteness aggression on the creature in the form of hugging him so tight his eyes popped out of his head like a stress ball. "I can't take this anymore. How bad would your parents beat me up if I stole this dog? Because really, I think I could take the beating."

"I simply cannot express to you how much taking this dog away from my parents is not an option." You laughed at his question. "I think my Mom would run you over with her car."

"No way she would do that." Steve shook his head. "She was so nice when I met her!"

"She would not be nice if you stole her weenie." You pointed out.

"Come on, she gave me a hug. No mom that's giving out free hugs could ever hit me with a car."

"That's where you're wrong. Because any woman that has so much love for her kids would do anything to seek rightful justice if you did anything to fuck with them." You corrected him. "Even if she's five foot nothing, and you're Captain America. Don't mess with her baby."

“Oh no" Steve's eyes went wide.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh shit." He panicked. "Do your parents hate me?"

"No? Why would they hate you?" You questioned with a nervous laugh.

"Because I accidentally fucked with your Mom's baby and now she's going to do anything to seek rightful justice." Steve clutched the fabric of his sweater right over his chest. "The throw up is coming back."

"I didn't tell them anything about you or Bucky, other than that you didn't let me quit right in the spot." You explained. "They love you and all of the Avengers too much for me to ever ruin their perception of the people who make them feel safe."

"So why do they think you're here?" Steve asked.

"I only told them about Harvey and the general issues I'm having with all of the other agents."

"Your sister knows." He said. "She made a weird comment..."

"She always makes weird comments, that's just what makes Jane, Jane." You smiled. "Yes, she knows, but she likes you a lot. I think she even took your side, she's been advocating for you the whole time."

"She's going to tell your mom, and your mom is going to hunt me for sport."

"No she won't, and even if she does find out about it, she's a very rational person. As long as we're fine, she's fine." You explained. "Look I'll prove it to you, say cheese!"

Quickly taking your phone out of your pocket and pointing the camera at Steve and Rocket, he smiled and you snapped a picture. He watched you type away for a few moments.

You sent the picture in a group chat with your mom and dad, then immediately got a response.

"See! Look! I said, look who came by to hang out with your favorite child." You giggled at your screen, turning it towards him so show that you sent them the picture. "My mom responded and said omg, Dad is honored. We don't know who is cuter, Rocket or Captain Rogers."

"Okay now ask if I can steal the dog." His cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink.

"I thought the point was to make sure my mom liked you" You laughed, locking your phone and putting it on the grass besides you. "Trust that I'm doing you a favor."

"Fine, but I'm not happy about it." He joked.

"I didn't know you felt so passionately about wieners, Steven." You giggled.

"What can I say? There's nothing better than kicking back and playing with a wiener." He ran with your joke.

"A nice, long wiener."

"This is ridiculous" Steve's face scrunched up, earning more of your adorable laughter.

Like no time had passed, you and Steve sat and chatted away for a few hours. You could tell the comfortable conversation was helping him resolve his own internal guilt, so you were happy to stay and chat for as long as he needed. But selfishly, you missed him more than you ever wanted to admit to yourself.

His adorable smile and pretty pink cheeks lit up a part of your heart that you had felt so disconnected from for so long now. And as the night grew colder, and significantly later, he couldn't just ignore the occasional chills that would make you momentarily shiver. You kept ignoring them and playing them off just to spend more time with your sweet friend, but eventually you ended up tucked underneath his arm and snuggled up to his side for warmth while Rocket stayed glued to his lap.

There was little you could do to ignore how comfortable and familiar it felt to be sharing warmth with the soldier. By all means, both Steve and Bucky were touchy people on a normal day to day basis, plus all of the training you did with Steve made you very comfortable with his skin on yours.

But this was different. His head that nestled on top of yours that rested on his shoulder, his big hand on the top of you arm keeping you close and snug against him, paired the gentle and quiet volume in his voice wasn't just friendly.

His hold was apologetic, and almost regretful. It was reconnecting, and mending. You could feel all of his unspoken words seeping out from his warm body to into your cold one, and you wondered if he could feel the same thing happening to him through your timid hand resting between his shoulder blades.

Just based on his calm breaths, but still racing pulse that you could feel on his neck, you knew it was different for him too.

But it was a good different, a hopeful and very exciting different.

Much like your shivers that you ignored and played off, Steve was trying to mask his yawns. Unfortunately, this was something that you couldn't ignore. Especially when you pressed the button on your phone and the screen informed you that it was already 11:52pm.

"As sad as I am to have to put an end to this, it's already almost midnight and your crazy ass drove an hour and a half here on a motorcycle." You reminded him.

"I just got you back, I don't want to leave you again." He pouted.

"I don't want you to leave either, but I'd prefer if you got home safely." Your timid hand now gently rubbing short stripes on his back. "Or you can stay the night with me here if you'd like."

A sleepy grin overtook the sat pout. "Thank you, but once again I don't want your parents to hate me. Plus I have my stupid annual physical in the morning."

"My parents wouldn't hate you, they'd rather you be safe than drive home tired."

"I'm not that tired, I'll be okay." He reassured you. "And you can't come back to the compound?"

"No, I have to watch Rocket." You reminded him. "But I'll see you in a few days at least. I'll be back before the end of the week."

"Oh, you'll be back?" He raised an eyebrow, challenging your statement.

"To give my official resignation at the very least, or to move all of my stuff into the Avengers sector at the very most. Who's to say what's going to happen?" You giggled.

"Well, when you need help moving let me know. I know a couple guys that can lift a few thousand pounds at a time, it helps the process go by really fast." Steve egged you on.

"Uh huh, I'll keep that in mind." You rolled your eyes with a smile, and wrapped your other arm around his front to squeeze him in a sideways hug. "Thanks for coming all the way here. It was really nice getting to have a conversation with you, I really missed spending time together."

"Of course. Thank you for even giving me the chance to explain myself. If I were you, I don't know of I would be able to be that gracious." He squeezed your shoulder in appreciation.

"There isn't much I wouldn't do for you." You grinned.

"Oh yeah? What wouldn't you do?" Steve questioned with a chuckle.

"I won't let you steal my moms dog." You stated. "Which reminds me, I'm going to need that back."

"Okay, I guess you can have him back. " Steve smiled and picked up the little fur-ball from his lap and placed him on yours instead. "Thanks for letting me play with your wiener."

"Feel free to come back and play with my wiener anytime." You laughed at his joke, unwrapping yourself from him as he started standing up.

"What an incredible offer, thank you" Steve smiled, now standing over you and offering you his hand to help you up.

"Like I said, anytime." You playfully winked.

Quickly putting on Rockets leash, you set the dog on the grass and accepted Steve's hand. He pulled you up effortlessly and bent over to grab your blanket from the grass.

"How far away is your parents house?" Steve questioned, subconsciously folding the blanket.

"About two blocks" You shrugged.

"Can I walk you guys home?" He asked, eyes twinkling once more as he shoved his hands in his front pockets to keep them warm.

"Absolutely not" You denied.

He was immediately pretending to be offended with a big gasp and hand whipped out of his pocket and over his heart. "Ma'am, it is pitch black out here and it's already midnight."

You laughed at his response. "Sir, it's pitch black and midnight. Your motorcycle is right there. I'm not letting you walk me two blocks in a neighborhood I'm familiar with because that means you'll have to walk another two blocks back here all by yourself somewhere you've never been. Logistically it makes no sense."

Steve puffed and furrowed his eyebrows. "What if some creepy dude comes and tries to mess with you? Huh? Then what?"

"Then I use all my big and scary self defense moves that Captain America taught me." You answered. "Also, do you not see this big scary guard dog? Nobody is going to fuck with me."

His pout deepened. "What if you start walking home and some dude on a motorcycle follows you all the way home?"

"Is that what's going to happen?" You giggled at his question.

"If you keep saying you're not going to let me walk you home then maybe it will." Steve shrugged.

"I've been walking by myself this late every single night for a week now." You told him. "It's always been fine, it'll be fine again."

"Now you're just trying to give me a heart attack." Steve deadpanned, earning your laugh once again.

"So I'm a good enough fighter to be an Avenger, but not good enough to walk to my parents house by myself?" You asked.

"Yes, exactly!" Steve enthused. "So glad we could have this conversation to clear that up, come one let's get you home."

His arm linked around yours and he started walking. "I think you're absolutely out of your mind, but I appreciate you nonetheless."

Looking up at his face just in time, you caught his smile. "The second half of that statement is really the only part that matters to me."

Your steps synched up with his, and Rocket walked ahead of the two of you. "Hey, Stevie?"

"Hmm?"

"If you actually want to get me home, we should be walking in the complete opposite direction" You grinned.

Steve stopped and laughed. "Okay, you lead the way."

You did eventually make it home, and only when you stood on the door step did Steve let your arms disconnect.

"Look we made it here and nobody died!" You enthused. "Do you remember how to get back?"

"Of course I do" Steve giggled at your question. "It wasn't even two full blocks."

"Just making sure" you raised your hands in defense. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

"I would if I could." His thankful grin showed off the shallow dimples in his cheeks. "See you soon?"

"In a few days" you nodded in confirmation.

He stuck his arms out for one last hug, and you accepted happily. After he let go of you, he bent down to say bye to Rocket.

"Drive save! Text me when you get home." You told him.

Steve's face scrunched up for a second, causing you to look at him in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"You blocked my phone number" He reminded you with a loud whisper.

"I'll unblock it, but text me when you get home" You giggled.

"Okay great!" Steve smiled big and did a little happy dance. "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight, love you!"

"Love you more!" He waved as he walked down the driveway.

Next Part: Twinkles

Taglist: @sarangheay @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bigtreefest

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navybrat817 · 6 months

Text

See Through You

Pairing: Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: You head to a carnival with your best friend and get more than you bargained for when your handsome neighbor bumps into you. Word Count: Almost 4.8k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, NONCON/DUBCON, unprotected vaginal sex, semi-public sex, choking, mirror sex, possessive behavior, mentions of stalking, breaking and entering, threat of violence and implied violence (not against the reader), Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fix #8 Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks to @maskedmistress87 who suggested dark!Nick with mirror and choking and @sgt-seabass and @tumblin-theworldaway for spitballing. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @buckets-and-trees (thanks for the feedback and help!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was your best friend's idea to wear costumes to the carnival. Though it wasn't Halloween just yet, it was a good way to get into the spooky holiday spirit. You weren't sure why you decided on a Red Riding Hood costume, but the cape would keep you somewhat warm if it got too cold. So would the stockings. You even got a basket purse so you could carry your things around and keep in theme with the outfit.

If you were lucky, you'd find yourself a big, bad wolf to play with.

After adjusting the cape around your neck, you spritzed yourself with your favorite perfume and carefully set the bottle on your vanity. You always set it to the right of your jewelry box. Strangely, it wasn't in its usual spot the last few days. Just like your robe wasn't yesterday. You swore you set it on the left hook, but when you got out of the shower it was on the right.

It would’ve been easy to write it off as a roommate messing with you, but you lived alone.

“I really need to stop watching scary movies before bed,” you mumbled as you went to your dresser and shut your underwear drawer. It was ajar a few days ago. Had you left your place in such a hurry that you forgot to close it?

The ding of your phone pulled you from your thoughts, giving yourself one more look in your vanity mirror before you went to get the device.

“Two minutes away!” Kiki messaged you.

There was a slight chill in the air as you went outside to wait, but that wasn't why you shivered. Every once in a while, you had the feeling someone was watching you. Like a pair of eyes following your every move. It didn't make sense. There was nothing about you worth watching.

It didn't stop a chill from sliding down your spine as you looked over your shoulder every time you left your home. Or when you thought about the random things that moved around your place. As far as you knew, no one knew where your spare key was. You lost sleep wondering if some creep snuck in. If someone did break in, they didn’t take anything.

But if someone went into your place and didn't steal anything, what did they want?

“Nice costume.”

You jumped at the sound of a familiar voice, almost dropping your phone as you turned toward it. “Nick, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he smiled, but didn't sound sorry at all.

“Sure you are,” you smiled back, your heart slowing to a steady beat again as you wondered how he managed to sneak up on you.

Nick Fowler moved into your neighborhood a few months ago. He usually kept to himself, but made it a point to give you a nod when he was going to or from work. While you wouldn't say you were friends, he was friendly enough with you and didn't bother anyone. He even helped you fix your cable when it went out some time back. As far as neighbors went, he was a good one.

And a handsome one.

The man turned quite a few heads when he unloaded boxes from the moving truck and you didn’t blame anyone for looking his way. With his athletic build, he carried the heavy items with ease. He had the bluest eyes you’d ever seen and his short, dark hair only helped to make them stand out more. The scruff surrounding his lips and along his chin looked long enough to leave a delicious burn if it ever touched your skin. You hardly ever saw him smile at anyone, except you. And he smirked at you on more than one occasion.

Like he had a secret he was itching to tell you.

“You okay?” He asked, taking a step closer. “You seem a little jumpier than usual.”

“Just a little tired. Haven't slept well the last few nights.”

“Is everything okay?”

You debated telling him what was going on since he sounded concerned, but decided against it. You didn't need to burden him with that. Besides, nothing was wrong. Just the spooky season getting under your skin. “Oh, yeah. Everything's fine. I’ll probably end up crashing when I get back.”

“Well, I'm here if you need anything,” he said after a moment. Those blue eyes of his meticulously looked over your costume. “So, you have a fun night planned?”

You almost tightened your cape around your body to hide from his gaze. Not that his attention wasn't flattering. It was kind of nice. Plus he was single as far as you knew and you never noticed him bringing anyone around. “Yeah. Going out with a friend."

Nick frowned a little. “He isn't wearing a wolf costume, is he?”

You swore there was a hint of jealousy in his tone, but you were probably imagining it. “No, she isn't,” you said, smiling as his shoulders relaxed.

“Well, it’s a great costume. You honestly look good enough to eat,” he said, chuckling a bit when heat crawled up your neck. “Sorry. I hope that didn’t sound bad.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I appreciate the compliment,” you said, both of you smiling as the warmth continued to move up to your face. “Do you have any plans?”

“I may watch a movie,” he said, running his fingers through his short hair. You tried not to stare at the veins in his hands or the way his sweater hugged his muscular frame. “It's too bad you can't join me.”

Your eyebrows shot up, not expecting his offer. Was it an actual offer? He hadn't invited you over to his place before. “Is it a scary movie? I like them, but sometimes they…”

“Scare you?” he guessed, his smile sympathetic as you nodded. “Well, you don't have to worry about any bad guys with me around. I can keep you safe.”

You smiled softly before Kiki pulled up to the curb. “Maybe another time?”

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, seemingly disappointed as he nodded toward the car. “Have fun at the carnival.”

Your smile slipped a little as he walked toward his place. “Thanks,” you called out, quickly getting into the car.

“Hey! Isn't that your super hot neighbor?” Kiki asked as you buckled yourself in.

“Yeah,” you replied, looking in the mirror as she drove off. Nick had stopped before he went inside and watched as the two of you drove away. It made you shiver. “He kind of invited me over to his place.”

“What?! And you're in here with me?” she asked, lightly smacking your arm. “You should've gone with him or invited him to come with us. You could’ve gotten laid tonight.”

At the reminder of your recent lack of sex life, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with having fun, but you wanted a bit more than that. Not like anyone had shown interest in you as of late. There was the guy who lived across the street who flirted with you weeks back, but he pretty much avoided contact with you the next day.

You wondered if he moved out since you hadn’t seen him since.

“You were already on your way and I didn’t want to just invite him,” you said, loosening your grip on your purse when your fingers began to ache. “It's weird though. He told me to have fun at the carnival, but I don't remember ever telling him I was going.”

How did he know?

“Maybe he guessed. Or maybe you mentioned it and forgot. I mean, you did say you haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“That's my own fault,” you said.

“Well, lack of sleep could be messing with your memory. And may I remind you that I told you to stop watching scary movies? They always make you jumpy,” she said, glancing over at you as her smile faded. Nick even noticed your jumpiness. “Look, we can skip this and go tomorrow. I don't mind.”

You shook your head and brushed the strange feeling off. She was right. Those films made you paranoid and she didn't need to deal with that. “No, it's okay. We deserve some fun.”

“You want some real fun, go visit your neighbor when you get back. He looks like he knows how to fuck.”

“I'm sure he does,” you giggled. You had no doubt about that. “But I'm not going to find out tonight.”

“You might. Who knows? He may even show up at the carnival to hunt you down.”

You both laughed, your smile bright and happy again. No one was going to hunt you down. No one was watching you. Your life wasn't some creepy movie. You just needed to relax and have a good time.

The carnival was in full swing, booming with cheerful music and shouts from people on the brightly lit rides. As you followed Kiki though, you kind of regretted not taking Nick up on his offer to hang out. Not even thirty minutes after you arrived, your best friend bumped into a hot guy. Literally bumped into him and almost spilled her drink on his shirt. Both of them had hearts in their eyes and they had been attached at the hip since. While you were glad she was having a good time, you were starting to feel a bit like a third wheel.

You also had that impression that someone was watching you again. Your skin prickled as you looked to the left and right, wishing the feeling would go away. It was silly. No one was looking at you. Everything was fine.

“Hey,” you said, tapping Kiki on her arm as she laughed at some corny joke. “I think I may explore on my own a bit.”

Her face fell as she looked between you and her new beau. “You sure? We can-”

“I'm sure. Really,” you assured her. She deserved to have a good time and would've encouraged you to do the same if you bumped into a guy. “I'll text you in a bit so we can meet back up?”

“Or I can give you a ride home.”

Surprise was written all over your face as you spun around. That was the second time Nick made you jump today, an amused smile on his face as you held your chest. He was in the same outfit you saw him in earlier, but he now had a sticker on the left side of his chest that stated, “Hi! My name is NICK”.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, his smile immediately fading as you took a breath. Your tone was a lot sharper than you intended. “I'm sorry. You just scared me again.”

Nick peered at you before he sighed. “Didn't mean to scare you or eavesdrop. I got bored watching the movie and decided to check this place out,” he said, glancing down at his feet for a moment. “I tried waving a minute ago, but I guess you didn't see me.”

You felt like a bitch. Maybe that was why you thought someone was watching you. It really was all in your head. “Sorry, I didn't see you.”

“Sorry I scared you again,” he said.

“It's okay. Really.”

“Well, neighbor, since you're here, you two should hang out,” Kiki suggested, giving you an encouraging smile.

What did you have to lose? “Would you like to join me?”

Your neighbor's smile was back on his handsome face. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

Kiki nudged you forward, moving you closer to Nick as your stomach flipped. “Text me when you leave or if you still need a ride.”

“Don't worry. I'll take care of her," Nick promised as she walked off with her new guy on her arm, leaving the two of you alone. “Lead the way."

“Okay," you said, maintaining a bit of distance as you walked beside him. You had no clue if you wanted to play games or go on a ride. “Anything in particular you want to do?”

“You.”

Your head twisted in his direction so quickly you almost hurt yourself. “What?”

“I said ‘boo’,” he said, pointing in front of him. The two-story, brightly lit funhouse had a bunch of random words on the panels, including “boo”. Why did you think he said “you”? God, you needed to get a grip. “Should we do that? It could be fun.”

With a small laugh, you nodded. “Fun in a funhouse,” you said, stopping when the carnival worker at the entrance held up his hand.

“I’m about to go on my break. Come back in thirty minutes.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said, shrugging a little at Nick. Maybe you could find something else to do.

Nick, however, didn’t budge. “That’s quite a break. Tell you what,” he said, taking out his wallet and pulling out a bill. The worker’s eyes lit up when he saw the amount. “Why don’t you take your break and let us go in anyway? We won’t cause any trouble.”

“Stay the whole time for all I care,” the guy said, taking the money with a toothy grin and letting both of you go past to walk up the steps. “Enjoy!” he added, roping it off with a “closed” sign before he walked away.

“Go ahead,” Nick urged, waiting for you to finish going up the stairs first.

The normally whimsical music sounded strange to your ears. Maybe it felt spooky since you knew you were the only two that would be inside. Or maybe it was because the movie you watched a couple of nights ago took place in a funhouse. A group of teens went in. Nobody made it out. No, this wouldn't be anything like that.

“We really could’ve just come back,” you said, holding onto the railing as the stairs shifted back and forth. You didn’t hear Nick follow right away. Glancing back, you swore you saw him check out your ass. Not that he could see much thanks to the cape.

“You might have decided to leave before we made it back this way,” he said as you came across a spinning barrel. Just staring at it made you slightly dizzy. “Not that it would’ve been a bad thing if we left since Kiki ditched you so quickly.”

“She didn’t ditch me,” you argued as you stepped into the barrel. The sound of a laughing clown filled your ears as you did your best to walk in a straight line. “She deserves some fun,” you added, regaining your balance once you stepped onto a normal floor again.

Nick followed you so silently that you didn’t realize he was right behind you until his lips touched your ear. “So do you.”

Hot air shot out of the ceiling above your head with a piercing whistle, giving you an excuse to jump away as your heart pounded. His eyes sparkled in amusement at your reaction. “Like I said, fun in the funhouse,” you teased, putting your hands along the walls as the hallway grew narrow. It was still large enough for you to squeeze through.

“Especially since we have the place to ourselves,” he reminded you.

A shiver rolled down your spine. You wondered exactly what kind of fun he wanted to have and if you should’ve chosen your words more carefully. “You know,” you began as you stumbled into a Hall of Mirrors, frowning as you realized there wasn’t an open door or space to move through. Which mirror did you have to push to get to the next room? “You didn’t say why you were wearing a nametag.”

“It's my costume," he said, tilting his head like the answer was obvious.

You glanced around to see if any of the mirrors had any smudges, anything to give away which direction to go. They were all clean. “And what exactly are you supposed to be?"”

He smirked as he met your reflection in one of the mirrors. “I’m dressed as your neighbour who’s gonna fuck you until you can’t remember anything but my name."

You nearly fell into the mirror and he quickly caught your arm to keep you upright, the grip a bit tighter than you expected. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me," he shrugged a little as he stepped closer. “Almost wore a wolf costume so I could chase you down. The subtle hints I've dropped aren’t working, so I might as well spell it out for you.”

You tried to figure out if he was joking or not. Your reaction was to giggle. A nervous, soft laugh that seemed to wipe his smirk away. “Is that why you came here tonight? You were hoping you'd fuck me?” you asked, remembering your earlier talk with Kiki. “I don’t even remember telling you I was coming here.”

He tapped his ear. “I heard you on the phone with your friend.”

“I was in my bedroom when we made those plans. There’s no way you could've…” you trailed off, a sense of dread pooling in your stomach as he stared at you. Did his eyes always have a dangerous glint to them? “Nick, how did you hear that phone call?”

“Take a wild guess, sweetheart.”

You swallowed a little. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’ve been messing with me.”

It sounded crazy to your ears and you didn’t want to believe it because blaming it on irrational fear was easier. But the single, unashamed nod he gave you almost made you crumble. “I never told you what I do for work, but I’m good with setting up bugs and cameras. And such a sweet thing like you living so close, I couldn't help myself,” he explained casually, like he wasn’t admitting to something completely messed up. “You make such pretty noises when you touch yourself.”

“You watched me,” you whispered, your head spinning when he smirked. He watched you in your intimate, private moments. What else did he do?

“Knocking out your cable gave me the perfect excuse to get inside your place without raising suspicion. You never would've invited me over otherwise. Though you really should be more careful where you keep your spare key. Made it way too easy for me to make a copy.”

You held your stomach to keep from getting sick. So many thoughts raced through your mind as he advanced on you. Why had you ignored your instincts? Did your attraction to him partially blind you? “Why?”

“Because I wanted to. Because you’re mine. Take you pick,” he said, wrapping a hand around your neck before you could move back. “You have no idea how tempted I was to break down your door and fuck you after watching the footage. Or every time I snuck into your place. I even moved things around in the hope you’d turn to me and let me 'help you' figure out what was happening, but you didn’t. You kept your distance. Your little ‘hard to get’ act was cute, but a man can only take so much.”

Each word he spoke added a new layer of dread and alarm. He squeezed a little when you tried to pry his hand away, tears blurring your vision. Shouting wouldn’t do you any good, but it didn’t stop the screams in your mind. “I wasn't playing hard to get. I liked you,” you managed to say.

“And you weren't trying to lead that flirty neighbor on either, but you're too sweet for your own good. Don't worry. I took care of him. He'll never bother you again,” he smirked as your blood ran cold. What did he do? “Or anyone else for that matter.”

The man was insane. “Nick, you-”

He cut you off when he pressed his soft and warm lips against your mouth. You were two seconds away from biting into his bottom lip when he spun you around and shoved your front against the closest, normal mirror. It didn’t budge. “I’m tired of waiting for you to come around,” he said, yanking your cape off. “Tired of just watching when I know you belong to me.”

You froze, unable to fight or yell when he shoved your costume up. No one would hear you over the sounds of the carnival and the worker running the attraction wasn't close by. Why weren’t you fighting? Why couldn’t you do anything to stop him?

“Nick, let’s talk,” you tried to reason. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

The sound of him tearing your underwear away made the first tear fall. “We're past the talking stage,” he snarled, kicking your legs apart before you whimpered. You weren’t sure if it was the sound that softened his gaze or the sight of your tears. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

His words did nothing to soothe you when he undid his pants. “You are hurting me,” you whispered. He hurt you by bringing fear into your life when he could've just asked you out.

“Am I?” he asked, parting your opening with his fingers. He chuckled darkly as he pushed a digit in with no warning. “Then why are you so wet?”

You whined in denial, but he was right. Arousal trickled along your thighs, your hole aching with the need for him to fill you with something larger than his finger. What was wrong with you? “No,” you moaned.

“Don’t deny me,” he growled, nosing along your neck before he bit down. You yelped, the sharp pain making you tighten around his finger. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re going to have so much fun together.”

Your body betrayed your will as he played with you and you were thankful momentarily when he pulled out. The relief was short-lived when you looked over your shoulder, just in time to watch him unzip his pants and take his hard cock out of his underwear. He’d break you with his size. “You can’t, please.”

“Yes, I can,” he said as he pressed the head of his cock against your sopping wet entrance. “Now be good and take what I give you.”

“Don't-”

“The only thing I want to hear you say is my name. Let’s let your pussy tell me how much you want me.”

You screamed as he pushed inside, your walls burning as you tried to accommodate for the size of him. He hadn’t prepped you nearly enough, though your arousal took some of the pain away. He didn’t pause to give you a chance to adjust either, as if the wet sound of you sucking his cock in gave him permission to take what he believed belonged to him.

“Fuck, your pussy feels better than I imagined,” he groaned, your resolve cracking as you opened your eyes. He forced you to meet his gaze in the mirror and you watched in horrid fascination as he took you. The surrounding glass showed every angle of his claim, your reality becoming more and more distorted. He surrounded you. Consumed you. “And it’s all mine.”

You made a small sound as you braced your hands on the glass, forced to feel every drag of his cock. The more he moved, the more you tried to grind your hips back against his. It was shameful for you to like it, humiliating that you wanted to get off because of him. It was as if your body no longer belonged to you and maybe it never did. Otherwise, why would you want this?

“When I get you home, I’ll take my time. Get you addicted to my cock,” he grunted, smiling at the glazed look in your eyes. “I’ll record it. Make you see how much you love it.”

“Nick,” you gasped when he put his hand around your throat again, a silent command not to close your eyes or look away. You moved a hand to his wrist when it became harder to breathe. He loosened his grip enough for you to inhale and slid his hand down to your chest, squeezing one of your breasts with a moan. You moaned, too.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Look at you. Look at us,” he groaned as he thrust faster. The hand on your chest moved back to your throat when he reached under your skirt. “See how perfect we are together? How well you take my cock? You know you belong to me.”

The sloppy sounds of your cunt got louder as he found your clit and rubbed it quickly. It was almost too much, but you craved more. What was the point of denying him when your pussy kept trying to pull him back in? Why fight the inevitable pleasure when your body surrendered to him?

You weren’t sure how much time had passed and it didn’t matter. You were lucky to remember your own name. He was fucking you dumb and you wondered why the fear faded. You knew it would return when he finished, but you felt ecstasy for now.

“My fucking slut. Never letting you go,” he said, pinching the bundle of nerves with a smirk as you breathed his name. The familiar twist of pleasure grew and his name was the only word you said as dark indulgence flooded your veins. You were going to come and there was nothing you could do to stop it. “So come for me. Right. Fucking. Now.”

The rough demand made your fluttering hole squeeze around him almost painfully. You struggled to hold back, but the release washed over you like a tidal wave. All you could do was helplessly pant as you trembled, his soaked cock thrusting still so he could join you in sweet bliss. And you wanted it. You wanted him to come inside you.

You could hate yourself later for wanting it so badly.

“You. Are. Mine,” he growled, his name falling from your lips as he tipped over the edge. You spasmed around him still as he finished, your cunt filled to the brim. “Mine.”

You gasped for air as he buried his face in your neck, your body shaking as you pressed your forehead against the glass. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Maybe once you had the strength you'd run. Scream. Cry.

“Look at me,” Nick breathed, his lips touching your pulse. You blinked some of the haze from your eyes as you lifted your head, your heart still racing out of control. Minus the darkened tint in his cheeks, he looked normal. Not a hair out of place. Like he hadn't forced himself on you. “Didn't have to be like this, but it would've happened no matter what."

You nodded, believing him. He took you in the middle of the funhouse without a care of getting caught. He got what he wanted.

“And don't even think about running away from me or I'll chase you down,” he added.

Feeling his spend slide out of you as he pulled out helped the reality of the situation sink in. He took you and you didn't stop him. “I won't,” you answered in a small voice you didn't recognize as he tucked himself away and fixed his pants.

“Good,” he smiled, retrieving your cape from the ground and wrapping it back around you. “Because I'd hate for anything to happen to Kiki. Such a nice coincidence that some guy bumped into her, isn't it?”

You shook your head quickly, tears forming in your eyes again. “No, don't hurt her,” you begged. If what he said about your neighbor was true…

Nick cooed as he framed your face and gently kissed your lips. It was so tender and you almost believed he was capable of being good. Almost. “Be mine and I won't.”

He said it casually, but his eyes told you not to defy him. “I'm yours,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” he said, pulling a hand away to check his watch. “Time's almost up. Let's go.”

You had a hard time moving your feet, but he put an arm around you to help. It was like you were drunk, unable to see or think straight as he quickly found which mirror to exit through. You just wanted to go home, but he took your safe haven away.

Was Nick Fowler your villain or was he an antihero for doing whatever it took to get you?

“Don't worry. We'll let Kiki know you got home safely. You can even tell her I asked you out tonight,” he said, flashing a smile at you that made him look like he'd take a bite out of you. “And when we get back to my place, I'll get you addicted to my cock like I promised.”

So, what do we think? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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matchavellichor · 6 months

Note

hello !! This idea is a bit basic, but I was wondering if you could write an ominis x fmc fic where the mc is coddling an animal with all sorts of affection and ominis, who has a crush on the mc, is jealous. It’s a pretty fluffy request, but perhaps the ending could be a bit suggestive? Anyway, regardless of whether you take this request or not, thank you for all your work! I have had such a struggle finding good ominis pieces lately

A Peculiar Pet

Ominis Gaunt x f!MC - Fluff - 2.2k words

A/N: hiii, ty for the request. this was sooo cute and i had a lot of fun writing it! the ending isn't suggestive and maybe a bit too platonic/unrequited, but i might make a part two if that's something you guys would like (:

Summary: After MC rescues a strange cat on her latest trip to Hogsmeade, her friendship with Ominis becomes strained by his sudden jealousy.

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Banter, Unrequited Love, Jealous Ominis, MC is a Cat Person, Ominis is Not

“What the hell is that?”

She scowled, looking up at Sebastian who was staring down at the purring carpet in her lap.

“That is my familiar,” she informed, stroking gently under what—presumably—was supposed to be a chin. “Poor thing was nearly starving to death just outside of the Hog’s Head. I rescued him.”

Sebastian eyed the creature warily. “Are you sure? By the looks of it, you were too late.”

“Oh, shut up, will you?” she wrapped her arms around the cat protectively and it gave a little grunt of approval. “He just needs a bit of a bath. Isn’t that right, Snuggles? My beautiful baby boy, yes, yes you are. Oh, mummy loves you so much—”

“You’ve given birth?” Ominis suddenly emerged beside Sebastian, looking just as appalled.

“Yes. To an abomination,” he grimaced. “Clawed its way out of her womb straight from the depths of Hell.”

“I didn’t ask for the opinion of either of you,” she seethed, standing up abruptly and clutching the mass of fur protectively to her chest. “If you’ll excuse me, Snuggles and I will be finding more pleasant company.”

She stormed past the two and Ominis blinked confusedly after her. Sebastian simply raised his brows.

“What was that all about?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Motherhood, I suppose.”

“Is that…normal?”

Ominis clenched his jaw as he listened to her start on what must have been the eighth bedtime story just that evening. She had been planting kisses all over the creature for the past hour, fawning over him and drowning him in all kinds of affection. Snuggles showed little more than a periodical snot-nosed snuffle in appreciation.

Sebastian shrugged, glancing over. “Beats me. Maybe it’s hormones or something.”

“She’s obsessed with it! That can’t be healthy. Shouldn’t we do something?”

Sebastian laughed. “Relax, Ominis. It’s a cat. The thing’s a hundred years old anyway, let her care for the critter while it’s on its last legs.”

“I suppose so,” Ominis relented, still slightly acerbic.

He listened to her voice taper out, words becoming slurred as exhaustion seeped into her. He rose from his seat with a sigh, trying his best to be open-minded about the ordeal.

“Here, let me watch over him,” he said, reaching a hand towards her shoulder to gently rouse her. “You should really get some sleep.”

As soon as his hand touched her, the creature immediately shot up and hissed at him, its abnormally sharp teeth viciously bared. He jerked back in surprise and she blinked awake, shushing the feline with soothing coos. “It’s alright, Snuggles, he’s a friend.”

The furball from Hell did not look convinced.

“I’m fine, Ominis,” she murmured through a yawn, sitting up to stretch. “He’s had a fever all day, I have to keep an eye on him.”

“You have to keep an eye on yourself,” he grumbled.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, already beginning her coddling again. “And you will be too, won’t you, angel? Yes, you will! Mummy will make sure of it.”

Ominis heaved a long-suffering sigh and retreated back to his armchair. Sebastian eyed the defeated expression on the blonde’s face for a moment, looking starkly amused.

That following weekend, Ominis retreated to the common room for his usual plans of afternoon reading, hoping that this time she wouldn’t bail on him like she’d been doing all week.

“Oh, my, look at you! Aren’t you handsome?”

He froze at the bottom of the stairs, hand gripping the railing. He was suddenly aware of an unbidden heat rising to his cheeks. “I’m–I’m sorry?”

“Oh, yes you are,” she cooed, ignoring him. “My precious boy.”

Ominis frowned, shoulders sinking at the realization of who she was actually speaking to. He tried to suppress his sour mood as best as he could as he stalked past her towards his usual seat in front of the fireplace.

He opened his book and lasted about two pages before the sounds of her fawning over the little monster ground his patience down to the bones.

“Do you mind?” he bit out tersely. “I’m allergic,” he lied.

“I’m not even near you.”

That’s precisely the problem, he wanted to say, bitter about how distanced she’d been ever since she’d brought the creature home. As woe as Ominis was to admit he was jealous of a cat, it was hard not to be when he’d seemingly been completely replaced.

Before, he had been her reading partner. They’d share one of the loveseats in an isolated corner of the common room and trade tidbits of whatever novel they were consumed in. Now, his spot was occupied by the matted ball of fur she called her baby.

He shut his book abruptly, not even bothering to conceal his sneer. “Must you spend every waking minute with that thing?”

She glanced up at him, surprised by his sudden hostility. “What’s the matter with you, Ominis?”

“What’s the matter with me? You’re the one obsessing over a cat. It’s ridiculous.”

“He needs me. Must you be so inconsiderate?”

Ominis’ fists clenched in frustration at his sides. “Well, he isn’t the only one who needs you!”

There was a long silence in which she stared at him perplexed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He reddened, staring down at his shoes. “I…just mean that you’re…that…”

“Go on,” she spat, tone lacking all patience. “Say what you mean.”

He glanced up sharply. “You’re neglecting all of your friends to care for that dreadful monster.”

She gasped, covering what was presumably the furball’s ears, but looked more like shriveled horns covered in hair. “Well, maybe it’s because I can’t bear to be around friends who are all so heartless.”

Ominis looked like she might as well have slapped him.

She stormed off with the cat in her arms for the second time that week, leaving Ominis to contemplate with an admittedly inappropriate sense of possessiveness when he’d ever get her back for himself.

Following their fight, Ominis had resigned himself to wallowing over the tattered remains of their friendship for the next few days when his melancholic reverie was shattered by a Gryffindor storming into the Slytherin common room.

Sebastian glanced up, looking as appalled as he would if a ten-foot troll had broken in. “How did you get in here?”

Garreth snorted. “It’s not like you lot are particularly creative with your passwords. Aspiration, really? What’s next, cunning?”

“That was last month’s…” Sebastian sighed under his breath, sounding defeated.

She appeared making her way down the common room steps a few moments later, pointedly ignoring Sebastian and Ominis’ presence and presenting Garreth with the feral throw-rug.

“Godric’s saggy bollocks, where the hell did you get that?” Garreth shrieked, nearly dropping all the Potions supplies in his hands.

She scowled. “Don’t tell me you lack all empathy as well, Weasley.”

He blinked at the creature in her arms warily. “I thought you said you needed a fever relief potion for a cat.”

“I do,” she frowned. “Snuffles has been sick all week.”

“That is not a cat.”

“Told you,” Sebastian muttered from his place beside Ominis, eliciting a swat to his arm.

Her tone immediately grew tense with defensive indignation. “So what if he’s a bit…unconventional looking? That doesn’t make him any less deserving of love and affection!”

“No, you misunderstand me,” Garreth said gravely, eyes still wide. He stalked towards her slowly with his hands outstretched, as if she were holding a grenade with its pin pulled out. “That is not a cat. That… is a bloody manticore.”

Ominis blanched. Sebastian dropped all pretenses of feigning he wasn’t eavesdropping and burst out laughing. “Oh, Merlin, that’s just too good.”

Her face fell. “What?”

She glanced down at Snuggles perched happily in her arms, brows furrowed as she studied him more intently.

“Oh dear Circe, put it down!” Garreth gasped when the creature moved, stretching lazily. It seemed hardly phased by the commotion around it. “You’re lucky it’s only a few weeks old and its poison glands haven’t matured yet. Although, even this young its bite is still strong enough to cut clean through bone.”

She seemed hardly deterred by the revelation. Cautiously, she pulled back the matted fur covering its head and gasped when an infantile, almost human-looking face was revealed. One thing was certain, it was positively not a cat.

Snuggles blinked back lazily at her, still purring while he rubbed himself affectionately on her arm. She frowned and glanced up at her friends, looking starkly heartbroken.

“I…I suppose…you all were right.”

Something in Ominis’ chest seized at how defeated she sounded.

She stared tearfully down at the manticore in her arms. “I’m sorry, Snuffles.”

“Let’s get it to Professor Howin,” Garreth spoke up, attempting to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, though he looked too wary of Snuffles to actually touch her. “She’ll know what to do.”

She nodded reluctantly.

Professor Howin contacted the Ministry and successfully turned in the manticore to magizoologists by the following morning.

Despite Howin’s repeated insistence that it was the safest option for Snuggles, its departure was no easy cross to bear for its former guardian.

Nearly a week later she was still mourning its loss as if her own kin had been ripped away from her. She was utterly inconsolable, and after walking in on her crying quietly in the late hours of the evening far too many times, Ominis decided he couldn’t bear her grief any longer.

The following day, he devised a plan. Come evening, he approached her usual lonely spot tucked away in the Undercroft, his hands tucked surreptitiously behind his robes.

She glanced up and frowned. “Are you here to rub it in?”

He sighed. “Of course not. I’m here to see if you’re alright.”

She sniffled, eyes lighting up. “Are you really?”

He nodded, kneeling down beside her. “I feel guilty for being so inconsiderate,” he said. “It’s silly to admit but…I suppose I just felt a little left out.”

She giggled then, the last vestiges of sadness steadily dissipating from her voice. “You’re lying.”

He shook his head, looking conflicted as if he were contemplating actually coming clean about how he had felt. He let out a long-suffering groan. “Oh gods, it’s humiliating. I was jealous of a cat—or well, what I thought was a cat, at least.”

She grinned, looking amused. “Oh, I understand. It’s because I didn’t give you belly rubs as well, is that it?”

He rolled his eyes, biting back his own smile. “No, no. It was the lack of bedtime stories that really stung.”

She laughed then, and the sound warmed him to his very core, reminding him of hot tea and the warmth of a fireplace with a good book curled in his lap.

He was broken out of his admiration by a jostling in his hands. He cleared his throat, remembering that an apology wasn’t the only thing he had met her there for.

“I…have something for you.”

She looked at him expectantly and he carefully untucked a small box from behind his robes, various holes cut around the sides. As soon as he held it in his lap, the box gave another little jolt. She looked at it bewildered.

He took a deep breath as he slipped off the lid, and the first tiny meow escaped. She gasped in delight, eyes glittering with disbelief as she stared down at the little animal.

“Is that…”

He nodded. “She’s yours.”

“Oh, Ominis!”

He was nearly toppled over by the force of which she threw her arms around him, squeezing him so tightly he could barely breathe. His hands found her waist to brace himself, his thumb brushing softly under her ribs as he reciprocated her embrace.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she gushed, peppering his face with kisses. He flushed so red he was surely the same color of the little ginger kitten in his lap by the time she stopped her attack.

“Don’t…don’t mention it,” he laughed sheepishly, voice sounding terribly dazed.

The kitten gave a petulant little mewl and she finally detached herself, pulling back with a departing peck to his cheek. She picked up the cat, pressing a soft kiss under its scruffy chin and acquiescing its whines.

“Oh, aren’t you just so precious?” she cooed. “Your mummy and daddy will take such good care of you— oh yes, yes we will!”

Ominis managed to flush even more. “Oh, am I included in this now?”

“Well, of course. You rescued her, after all,” she smiled brightly, suddenly entwining her fingers with his. “We’ll care for her together.”

Ominis felt that warm sensation bloom in his chest again at the feeling of her hand in his. He stroked his thumb over her knuckles reverently, unsure of what to do with so much permission to touch her. The contact was so tender, his heart felt like it might just burst out of his chest.

As if it could sense his acceptance, the kitten suddenly jumped from its place in the crook of her arm onto Ominis’ shoulder, purring contentedly in his ear and rubbing itself against his neck.

She gasped. “Oh, look, she likes you!”

Ominis couldn’t help the smile pulling at his lips, bringing a hand to pet tentatively at the small thing. The kitten leaned into his touch, preening under his affection as he rubbed an index against its soft underbelly.

“Yes,” he said softly, squeezing her hand, still tucked snugly in his. “I suppose she does."

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #garreth weasley #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fan fiction #fanfic #fluff

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roycevelvet · 1 month

Text

Tangled hearts

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x reader Warnings: none Notes: I have nothing interesting to say, I was listening to 'Heather' lol + i was thinking about Sons Of Anarchy Jax while writing this, pls keep that in mind x

You were walking next to Noah to your local pub, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you like a whirlpool. You'd been best friends with Noah for as long as you can remember, sharing laughs, tears, heartbreak, happiness and everything in between. But there was this secret, this feeling you kept hidden deep down—a kind of love that felt too risky to admit, scared it might ruin your friendship.

As you arrived at your local pub, the familiar sights and sounds washed over you as you settled in your usual spot. Noah plopped down beside you, his smile lighting up the room. It was a routine, almost, Noah snagging the seat next to you without fail. If he didn't, well, he'd sulk like a kid missing their favorite toy.

"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Noah asked, his eyes sparkling as he leaned in closer.

"I was thinking we could start with a game of pool," you suggested.

"Sounds like a plan," he replied, his tone light and playful. "But you know I'm going to beat you at pool, right?"

You laughed. “We'll see about that," you teased, your heart swelling with love for your best friend. "Besides, if you beat me, I might have to find a handsome stranger to console me."

There was a pause, a flicker in Noah's eyes that caught your attention. His smile wavered, his gaze shifting.

"Really?" Noah's asked, arching his brow.

You shrugged. "Who knows?" you said with a playful wink. "I might just sweep some unsuspecting guy off his feet with my killer pool skills."

Noah's expression darkened. “Mh, okay.” he muttered.

You furrowed your brow, caught off guard by the sudden change in Noah's demeanor. "Are you okay?" you asked, concern coloring your tone.

Noah forced a smile, avoiding your gaze. "Yeah, I'm fine," he insisted, his tone not quite convincing.

Lost in your thoughts, you attempted to immerse yourself in conversation with your other friends, hoping to distract yourself. But then, like a sudden gust of wind disrupting the peace, the door swung open almost with a theatrical flair, like those damn Hollywood movies, and just the most beautiful girl stepped inside.

Your heart skipped a beat as she made her way across the room, her presence along drawing the attention of everyone around her. Your gaze followed her, unable to tear away as she approached Noah, her smile as bright as the stars.

And then, like a dagger to your heart, Noah turned towards you and the rest of your group, his eyes lit up with genuine joy. "I want you to meet someone special," he said, his voice filled with excitement.

"This is Heather," he introduced, his gaze never leaving your face. "My girlfriend."

The words hung in the air like a heavy shroud, suffocating you with their weight. You forced a smile, your heart breaking with each syllable that escaped Noah's lips. Who the fuck is she and where did she came from? Since when has Noah a girlfriend?

"It's lovely to meet you, Heather," you said with the sweetest smile.

Heather smiled warmly. "Likewise! Noah's told me so much about you," she said, her voice a gentle melody in the chaos of your thoughts.

As Noah and Heather chatted with the others, you felt yourself drifting further away.

Nicholas squeezed your hand, his silent support a lifeline. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” you whispered back as casually as you could sound.

You watched as Noah and Heather sat down hand in hand, unable to suppress the ache in your heart.

—

Feeling overwhelmed, you excused yourself to go to the restroom, Juno, your best friend, offering to come with you. As soon as the door closed behind you, the tears just came streaming down, and you collapsed against the wall, also like a fucking Hollywood movie.

Juno wrapped her arms around you, holding you tight as you sobbed. Juno knew about your feelings towards Noah.

"I don't know what to do, Juno," you whispered between sobs. "Noah, he... he's always so flirty with me, always acting strange when I mention other guys, always so touchy and needy and then he pulls this stunt? Since when is he dating a girl named Heather?”

Juno's grip tightened around you, her own confusion evident in her silence for a moment. "I wish I had the answers for you, Y/N," she finally said. "But I don’t, I’m sorry, men are trash."

Her unexpected comment caught you off guard, and despite feeling heavy, a little laugh came out. It was a moment of relief in the middle of all the chaos.

You nodded, tears still running down your face. Despite feeling sad and insecure because Heather was the most stunning girl you’ve had ever seen, you knew you had to act tough.

Standing up straight, you wiped away your tears. "No man is going to make me cry today," you declared. "I'm not going to let Noah ruin my night. I'm here to have fun, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

—

As the night rolled on and the drinks kept coming, you did your best to ignore Noah and Heather. But for some reason, Heather seemed dead set on getting to know you, constantly interrupting your conversations with her silly questions. You just wished she'd leave you alone with her pretty eyes, perfect nose, and flawless skin.

Despite your efforts to be friendly, you kept your interactions with her short. Not really in the mood to mingle with her, even though nothing was her fault actually. It’s not like she had any say in how God chose her to be his favourite. You asked Noah to play a game of pool, but suddenly he wasn't interested anymore, only eyes for Heather. So, you did what you knew best: flee the situation and find that handsome stranger to console you.

If Noah could bring along his girlfriend, you figured you could find some fun for the night too, right?

Juno was by your side, the ultimate wing woman. It being a Friday night, the pub was crowded with people. It didn't take long for Juno and you to approach a couple of guys for a game of pool. You played the part of a clueless girl, pretending you didn't know how to play, so the tall, blonde haired stranger would offer his help, just like in the movies, again.

As you engaged in the game, bantering back and forth, the tension between you and the stranger grew stronger. With a playful smirk, he leaned in closer, his eyes locking with yours. "You know, for someone who claims not to know how to play, you're doing pretty well," he smiled.

You chuckled softly, feeling a flutter in your chest. "Beginner's luck, I suppose," you replied. "But who knows, maybe you could teach me a thing or two?"

A spark of interest igniting in his eyes. "I'd be happy to give you a few pointers," he said flirty. "But only if you promise to give me a chance to win you over with more than just pool skills."

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Well, in that case, consider me intrigued," you said, a smile playing at your lips. "Lead the way, pool master."

“I am Jax by the way” he said as he flashed a smile. “Y/N, nice to meet you.”

—

Noah watched as you interacted with that douche, sharing laughs and exchanging glances, and couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. His discontent grew more apparent by the minute.

Finally, unable to contain his annoyance any longer, Noah started bitching to Nicholas. "Can you believe Y/N right now?" he asked sharply. "She's completely ignoring me for that guy. It's like she doesn't even care that I'm here. I mean us, I thought it was a friends night out.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, looking at Noah with a hint of amusement. "Maybe she's just having fun," he suggested.

But Noah shook his head, his frustration evident. "It's not just that," he continued, growing more agitated. "That guy she's with, he's not good enough for her. And he clearly doesn't have a clue what she wants.”

“And you know what Y/N wants? Are you’re the Y/N expert?” he laughs.

Without hesitation, Noah replied firmly, "Yes, of course I do. And it's not that guy." His tone left no room for doubt.

Nicholas listened carefully as Noah complained further. "Are you jealous?" Nicholas asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Noah's expression darkened, his jaw tensing as he struggled to contain his emotions. "Why would I be jealous?" he replied defensively. "I've got Heather, remember?"

But Nicholas could tell that Noah wasn't being completely honest. It was clear that Noah's true feelings for you were far more complicated than he was willing to admit.

—

As you chatted with Jax during the game, seeing Noah and Heather being all lovey-dovey in the corner made you feel a bit jealous, well this was maybe an understatement. They looked so cozy together, like they belonged with each other. It made you want to puke, want to pull your hair out but it also made you wish you were Heather as well. You just wanted to smash her pretty, little face into a wall. So, yeah, you were only a bit jealous.

"So, how did you end up here tonight?" Jax asked, flashing you a friendly smile as he lined up his shot.

“Nothing special, just hanging out with some friends.” You replied nonchalantly.

Jax chuckled, leaning against the pool table. "Same here. Thought I'd come out and see what the night had in store. And I must say, meeting someone as intriguing as you was definitely unexpected."

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his compliment. "Flattery will get you everywhere," you teased, taking your turn at the pool table.

As the game continued, the conversation flowed effortlessly between you and Jax. But you couldn't stop thinking about Noah and Heather. Feeling jealous like that was weird for you, and it made you feel like like you weren’t good enough.

But before you knew it, the game had ended, but the tension between you and Jax grew strong. With a shy smile, you found yourself blurting out, "Do you maybe want to go for some fresh air?”

You knew you were acting out of spite and jealousy, but Jax was a cute guy, so no harm, right?

Jax's eyes lit up with excitement, mirroring your own. "I'd love to," he replied eagerly. "Lead the way." mimicking your words from earlier.

You motioned for Juno, to let her know you were okay as you and Jax made your way out of the bustling pub.

—

Meanwhile, Noah's mood was shifting from bad to worse as he watched you leaving with Jax. His face turned red with anger, and he clenched his fists, fuming silently. Nicholas noticed Noah's frustration and tried to calm him down.

“Are you okay, man?” Nicholas asked.

Noah waved him off, trying to play it cool. "It's nothing, just being protective, you know? Y/N's my best friend, and I just want to make sure she's okay," he said, but his words rang hollow, even to himself.

And to make matters worse, Heather was up his ass as well now. Heather, who had been observing the situation all night, couldn't hold back her frustration any longer. She wasn't a fool. Noah was always talking about you. About how funny you were, how kind you were, even how beautiful you were. That's why Heather wanted to get to know you tonight, to scout the competition.

"Noah, ever since Y/N went to talk with that guy, you've been acting weird," she said, her voice tinged with annoyance.

Noah's facade cracked, his frustration boiling over. "Why are you acting jealous all of a sudden? Y/N’s just my best friend," he snapped.

Heather's eyes widened in shock, hurt flashing across her face. "Excuse me?" her voice rising in anger. “I’m the one acting jealous? You're the one with a girlfriend, yet you're acting like a possessive boyfriend over another girl. Maybe you should figure out what you really want before pointing fingers at me!”

"No, no, it's not like that," Noah tried to backtrack, but his words only seemed to further fuel Heather's anger.

"What do you mean it's not like that? It’s exactly like that!” Heather yelled, her voice sharp with frustration.

Heather stood up in a hurry, grabbing her jacket from the chair. "Call me when you made up your mind about what you want, I don't have time for this." she said firmly before storming out of the pub.

Noah watched her go, his jaw clenched in stubborn silence. He made no move to follow her, his gaze followin her to the door where he spotted you standing outside. The sight of you and the stranger chatting outside only seemed to add fuel to the fire of Noah's already simmering emotions. A mixture of jealousy and frustration swirling within him.

He didn't know what to do, so he just stayed where he was. He didn't chase after Heather, and he didn't approach you either. He just stood there, watching, feeling lost.

To be continued.

#noah sebastian #nick folio #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #bad omens #angst #light angst #bad omens fan fic #bad omens fic #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfic #fandom

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imyourbratzdoll · 4 months

Note

Hi firstly I love your work secondly I have a request about something like Lee cheating on reader hurting her bad eventually she moves on with Steve Kemp and one day Lee sees reader again he tries to win her back troubling a bit and Steve comes to comfort protect her and he scares Lee in unique way (we know what Kemp does for a living 😉)

hello, thank you! and I hope you like this!

summary - lee cheats on you which causes you to spend time finding yourself, leading you toward your new love steve kemp. what happens when the one who broke your heart finds you again?

warning - angst, cheating, violence, mentions of cannibalism.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by a deactivated again:(

No one ever prepared you for the pain of being cheated on, you thought that Lee was the one, having been together for five years. You had dreamt of the two of you getting married, being the perfect little housewife for him. You never expected to walk in on him balls deep inside his secretary, the very one he told you not to worry about. Everything was blurry after that, you could barely remember you storming out of his office, or that he didn’t even chase after you. You didn’t wait for him to come home, you immediately packed your things and left the house, letting him come home to an empty house.

It had been two years since you had your heart broken and through those years you had managed to love yourself and find love again, even though your trust issues would spike at times. From time to time, you would get flashbacks of walking in on Lee, getting stabbing pains in your chest when you remember each painful detail of that day. You stare blankly ahead, lost in your thoughts with a coffee in your hand, you couldn’t hear as Steve calls for you.

“Sweetheart.”

You remember walking in, dropping the freshly baked biscuits to the ground as you watched the love of your life fuck into his very young and pretty secretary that’s bent over the desk. You remember how his head turned and he just smirked at you, it felt as though your heart was being ripped out.

“Y/n!” You blink, feeling a burning sensation on your hand and your eyes move down, causing you to notice your recently bought coffee has now crumbled into your hand as the liquid flows out of it, burning your flesh. “Fuck, Honey. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Steve gently removes the ruined coffee from your hold and into the trash before he pulls you over to a bathroom and carefully cleans your hands. “Flashbacks again?” You nod, “I’m sorry, I forgot that, that particular pet name was what he used.”

“It’s okay… It’s my fault.” You stare at him with wide eyes as he glares at you.

“No it’s not, it’s never your fault!” He gently takes your face in his hands and places a soft kiss on your lips.

Steve Kemp, what a dream he was. You had met him during a time where you were between loving yourself and finding love again. You had been walking past your local hospital and ran into him as he was coming out, gobsmacked as to how they hired such handsome doctors. You even blurted out asking if his looks distracted the other doctors from their job. He laughed, causing your mind to become fuzzy as you stared up at him dazedly. For the first time in a long time, you felt happy and through that happiness, you asked him out. Thankfully, he accepted and here you are, staring at the godlike man as he cleans the hot coffee from your hands.

“I love you…” He looks at you and smiles, bringing your hands up to his lips and kissing them softly.

“I love you, honey. Now, there won’t be any scars or damage. So are you ready to go? I can reorder a drink, maybe a cold one this time.” You smile, nodding and letting him help you down from the sink. Steve wraps his arm around you gently, leading you back out into the coffee shop and lines up to reorder an iced coffee.

As you leave the coffee shop, waiting for Steve, your world begins to crash as you hear a familiar voice. “Well if it isn’t my little ol’ sweetheart!” Your eyes widen as you turn and stare at the chubby man making his way over to you. How the hell was this possible? He made it clear that he would never leave his hometown. “You’re a hard woman to find.” He stands in front of you, a smirk on his face. “Now, what do you say, baby. You come back home, this little spat of yours has gone on long enough.” Lee’s grubby hands reach forward and grip your arm, you didn’t know how you ever fell in love with him.

“Get your hands off of me! We are over! Did that not go through your head when I left after I caught you fucking someone else?!” You struggle against his hold, looking behind you in hopes that Steve comes out soon.

“Pfft, please. That wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last, so now, Sweetheart. You are gonna shut your pretty mouth and come with me, and then, you will turn a blind eye whenever I go out with another woman. You hear?”

“Well that isn’t happening.” Steve steps out, your iced coffee in his hand. He stares down the man, not flinching as Lee tries to intimidate him. “I suggest you let go of my girl.” He speaks slowly, but clearly. When Lee doesn’t let go, only tightening his hold on your arms, causing you to let out a whimper. With quick movement, Steve steps forward and grabs ahold of Lee’s wrist, gripping it and beginning to twist. His glare sharpens as Lee lets out grunts of pain. Steve leans forward and whispers, “If you touch, look, speak or even think of my girl again. I will cut you up into little pieces and serve you to your town.” Lee’s eyes widen and he immediately lets go and backs up, usually nothing would scare Lee, but the seriousness in Steve’s voice and eyes made him rethink everything.

Steve’s arm wraps around you and he hands you your drink, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Right, well. You aren’t worth this much trouble.” Lee clears his throat and quickly walks away, and you look up at Steve.

“Did you threaten to cut him up?” Steve looks down at you and smiles.

“Of course, and also you are worth it.” He winks at you and you shake your head with a smile.

“I mean… I wouldn’t stop you if you went through with it.”

And with those words, a plan began to form inside of Steve’s head.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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wwilsonbarness · 7 months

Text

stay?

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

summary: after one date with Bucky Barnes your life takes a turn for the worst.

warnings: awkward first date (kinda), violence, angst, fluff, sexual assault (warning just in case), kidnapping, sad bucky, sad reader, sadness lol (let me know if i forgot anything pleasee)

word count: 4170

a/n: enjoy :)

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :)

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist

Your pinky finger was slowly inching towards his as he walked you up the steps to your door. It had been the perfect evening, starting off with a dinner at one of the fanciest restaurants in the city, then a couple games of mini golf followed by cheeseburgers because both of you agreed the portions at “WOZ” were nowhere near enough. You’d met Bucky through one of your friends, and if you were being honest the idea of dating an Avenger was very intimidating but she insisted you would be ‘perfect together’.

“Thank you for tonight Bucky, I had a really good time.” You’d grown more confident as the night went on but now that the date was ending you were back to your shy self. You didn’t want the night to end and even though you’d only met Bucky a few hours ago you had felt an instant connection. It really felt like how the movies made first dates look.

“I had a good time too, would..” He stops himself and you can tell he’s feeling nervous, so you smile up at him, silently asking him to continue. You see his shoulders loosen once he sees your smile, “..would you maybe wanna do this aga-..?”

“Yes.” You answer before he can even finish his sentence.

“You do?”

“I do.” You were internally beating yourself up for being so awkward but you couldn’t help but jump at the chance at seeing Bucky again. What you didn’t know that was Bucky was doing the same thing, Steve had always described him as being smooth with the ladies but right now it was like all his flirting skills had completely disappeared.

“I erm, I better get going, but I’ll call you!”

“I’ll be waiting!” You cringed at yourself, why did you have to be so awkward?

“See you doll.” Bucky flashes you a smile - which has become one of your favourite sights in the very short time you’ve known him - before he starts to walk down the steps. You wave to him as he walks away and wait until you can no longer see him before you close your door.

You drop your bag on the counter, untie your shoes and start to unzip your dress as you walk to your bedroom before a knock at your door stops you. You don’t think twice before going over and opening the knock, the only logical person it could be was Bucky. Right?

“Back alrea- Oh. Hi?” It wasn’t Bucky, it was a man with short black hair and tattoos and a black hood covering most of his face. “Can I help you?”

“You Y/N Y/L/N?” The man grunts at you in return.

“I am.. Who are you?” As soon as you answer him you regret it, it goes against every piece of advice you’d been given about being safe as a woman in the city.

“You don’t need to know who I am sweetheart.” Your heartbeat was beginning to speed up now, panic setting in fast. You try to close your door as quickly as you can but his foot stops you.

He begins to shake his head, “Uh uh, I don’t think so.” he pushes forward and you fall backwards landing on the floor.

Your eyes were beginning to well up and you were frozen in fear, this was it wasn’t it? You’re gonna die right here.

“Stop being such a baby jesus fucking christ.” He paced around your apartment a little, his jacket moving slightly which makes the gun he has in the back of his jeans become visible.

“P-Please, you can take anything you want. Just please don’t hurt me” You pleaded to him, hoping somehow there was a tiny part of him that would listen.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” You sighed deeply thinking there was a chance you’d get out of this alive, but if he wasn’t going to hurt you what was he planning to do?

“What do..what do you want from me?”

“I’m just here to take ya to the big man.”

You didn’t think you could feel any more scared than you already did, but the mention of “the big man” terrified you. Why were they targeting you?

“Do me a favour, would ya sweetheart? Stop talking.” He smirked down at you which only made you feel worse, it looked like he was enjoying this.

You were too scared to say anything else, and he was focusing on his phone instead of you. Part of you was tempted to try and escape but you were still frozen in fear, you had no defence skills and probably wouldn’t get very far and you really didn’t wanna piss this guy off anymore.

Around 10 minutes pass of you sitting on the floor, wracking your brain to find any reason as to why someone would want to kidnap you. You weren't anything special, and you hadn’t even lived in New York for that long.

“Get up. He’s ready for ya.” You get to your feet shakily and wait for him to tell you what to do next.

“Go on then.” He shoves you towards the door, and follows behind you. As you near the door you feel something hard against your back. “Make any noise and I’ll use it.” Shit. You didn’t say anything back, just nodding to show you understood.

After you get into his car he drives for what feels like hours to an underground garage, you tried to memorise the route you went but it was hopeless. You’d never been to this side of the city before. A few minutes walk later and you’re standing outside an office, you assume this is the guy who sent someone to hunt you down.

The door opens and you get pushed in, stumbling a little before you find your balance. There are two men waiting in there, who look you up and down before smirking.

“Soldier chooses them well.” The taller one says to his shorter friend.

“Sure does. Shame he’ll never see her again.”

Soldier? Are they talking about Bucky?

“What do you want from me?” You tried to keep your voice calm but you could tell it came out laced with fear.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” The shorter man walks towards you and trials his finger over the edge of your dress. “All you need to worry about is standing here and looking pretty, sweetheart.”

—-----

On the other side of the city the soldier in question was sitting discussing ‘the best night of his life’ with Sam, who was silently judging how his friend was acting.

“And everytime she told me a joke she'd wait a couple seconds before laughing to make sure I found it funny first. And when she laughs her nose scrunches up, it’s so adorable. And everytime i told her she looked nice she’d do this thing where she bites her lip and she can’t look me in the eye. It’s ad-“

“Adorable. I get it, Buck.”

Bucky blushes as he realises how long he’d been speaking about you, but he can’t help it. He’s never met someone like you before and he can’t stop thinking about you since he left your doorstep.

“How long is an acceptable time before I call her?” Bucky knows Sam is probably sick of hearing about you but he’s Bucky’s favourite (and only) person he feels safe enough to talk to, not that he’d ever tell Sam that.

Sam looks at the imaginary watch on his wrist before answering. “Not 3 hours Buck.” A frown appears on Bucky’s face to which Sam snickers at. “I thought you were a ladies man.”

“I was. Things are different now.” Bucky tries to force a smile out but he can’t. His voice grows a lot quieter as he continues. “Do you think she doesn’t want me to call?”

“Hey, I didn’t say that! The way you’ve described the night, it sounds like she feels the same as you.”

“Hm. Maybe.”

“Buck I’m serious, I was just joking before. I’m sure she’s waiting for your call.”

“So tomorrow?” Bucky asks with his smirk growing again.

Sam laughs, “Yeah, tomorrow.”

Safe to say Bucky does not wait until tomorrow, actually he doesn’t even make it another hour before texting you.”

Hey, it’s Bucky! Sorry if this is too soon but I had a really good time tonight. We need a rematch soon!

He spent a further 2 hours staring at the screen, with every minute that passed that the message was left on ‘delivered’ he picked apart his message more. He finally locks his phone and heads to his room for the night. But not without a lecture from Sam first. “You called her didn’t you?”

“No!” Bucky rushes to defend himself. “But hypothetically if someone was to text their date 4 hours after the date. How would that look?”

“Bucky! I thought you were waiting until tomorrow.”

“I tried.”

“Has she responded?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Is this what ghosting is? Oh god. Am I being ghosted?”

“Please for the love of god stop letting Peter teach you modern slang. You’re not being ghosted, it’s late she’s probably just sleeping. Bucky looks at the clock behind Sam and sighs in relief.

“You’re right. Okay, I’m gonna sleep too.” It was nearing 3am, no wonder you haven't replied to him he thought to himself.

Bucky gets around 4 hours of sleep before he gets woken up by his phone ringing. He answers it without looking at who it is. “You’ve got 3 hours to give me back my brother, or else your girl gets a bullet through her pretty little face.”

That wakes Bucky up faster than he ever has before. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You heard me, Soldier. Clock’s ticking.” The call ends.

Bucky freezes for a second trying to gain a little bit of understanding of what the fuck just happened. He pulls on the first piece of clothing he can find and runs towards the common room, hoping to find someone who can help him. Luckily the whole team is there, which is strange, normally the only time that happens is when there’s a mission going on.

Before Bucky can even begin to explain what’s happening, Fury pipes up. “Barnes, what do you know about a Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Fuck!” This means he wasn’t imagining that phone call. We had one date, literally just last night. What the fuck is going on?”

Half of the team moves so Bucky can see the big screen, and on it there’s a blown up picture of you, tied to a seat. Your dress is ripped, there’s blood dripping down the side of your face and your eyes are red, as if you’d been crying non stop for hours. Bucky walks slowly towards the screen and stops for a second to take in the picture, and almost instantly his brain switches to fighter mode.

“What do we know?”

“Bucky, maybe you should sit this one out.” Sam tries to reason with him, but Bucky doesn’t listen.

“What the fuck do we know?”

Fury begins to tell Bucky all the information they have. “It seems your girlfriend wa-“

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Bucky wishes that statement wasn’t true, he wishes he could say you were his girl, but after this he was 100% sure that would never be the case.

“Okay.” Nick continues, wary of pissing Bucky off any more. “It seems Ms Y/L/N was taken from her home at around 11.30 last night. Her neighbours report seeing a black Audi sitting outside her apartment before she got home and say it left 30 minutes after you dropped her off. There’s no cameras in the area, her phone was left in her apartment so there is no way of tracking her. And just 30 minutes ago this picture was sent to my email. Along with a threat to her life if Zemo is not released from the raft in 3 hours.”

Bucky tries to process all the information, you were taken just 30 minutes after he left? Guilt. Zemo has a brother? Anger. They were threatening to kill you? Fear.

“I got a phone call a few minutes ago, said the same thing. Any leads on who this bastard is?”

“None. No one is aware of Zemo having a brother.”

Bucky nods along, “What’s the plan?”

“You said you got a call? We’ll get tech to try and track it..” Nat suggests, knowing it most likely won’t work but it’s their best bet right now. “..and when they call again at least we’ll be ready to track it.”

“You think they’re gonna be dumb enough to leave a trace?” Bucky snapped at Nat.

“It’s all we’ve got, Bucky. Look, we know you had some sort of relationship with this girl but you need to stay calm.”

“I’m trying.” Bucky’s voice breaks a little, showing everyone how he is really feeling.

A couple minutes pass of everyone thinking the same thing but being too afraid to say it, until Fury finally breaks the silence. “There’s no way we can let Zemo out.”

Bucky knows there’s no logical reason for them to listen to your kidnappers demands, he knows majority of the time they never stick to them, but the thought of you getting hurt anymore was too much to handle.

“You’re just gonna let her die?” He shouts across the table.

“Barnes I suggest you calm down or I’ll remove your clearance for this mission.” Bucky nods, knowing the best thing he can do right now is keep as calm as possible, panic will only make things worse. “As I was saying, I’m not willing to release Zemo from the raft, but we can make this brother of his think we are. When he next contacts us, we’ll let him believe we’re following what he is asking of us. Everyone got it?”

The room fills with a mix of mumbles, mostly consisting of ‘yes sirs’ and ‘got it’s’. Bucky stays silent. He’d finally found a girl he liked and she ends up in this situation, the guilt he was feeling was worse than anything he’d ever felt before, including the years of physical and mental trauma he’s been through.

Sam’s soft voice breaks him out of his thoughts, “Buck? You okay?” For the first time since he learned of your danger Bucky’s face softens, and his eyes begin to grow wet.

“I don’t wanna lose her Sam.” Sam might not understand how Bucky feels this strongly about you in such a short amount of time but one thing he understands is that you are important to Bucky and that means you are important to him.

“We’ll get her back. Come on. Let’s suit up so we’re ready.”

—--

You made the mistake of asking for some water which resulted in you being slapped across the face with the back of a gun and tied up on a rickety old chair .You hadn’t spoken since. You’d accepted that it was just a matter of time before they killed you and part of you just wanted them to get it over with. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't stop the tears falling down your cheeks and these men did not like that at all.

“Tell me again why we’re keeping her alive? Her crying is starting to get real boring.” One guy asks the other.

“Just shut her up will ya? I need to call them again” You try so hard to stop yourself from whimpering but the pain from the rope around your hands and the ache in your head hurts so bad and a couple of seconds later a rag is being stuffed in your mouth.

“Darling.. You get what this means?” He lifts his gun up and trails it along the side of your face. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” You hold your breath, terrified that even a slight movement will make things worse. “Good girl.” His smile, it’s something you don’t think you’ll ever forget if you make it out of here alive.

The other man dials a number and puts it on speaker. “You got my brother yet?”

“He’s on his way to us. First we need some proof that Y/N is still alive.”

The man walks over to you slowly and takes the rag slightly out your mouth. “Tell them sweetheart.” You couldn't answer even if you wanted to, the fear being too much. He whips his gun against your head again making you cry out again. “Don’t make me ask again.”

“I.. I’m alive.” You had no idea who you were talking to, it was a voice you didn’t recognise but one you’d never forget, maybe, just maybe they’d be the one who saved you.

—---

“I.. I’m alive.” Bucky nearly breaks down right there at the sound of your voice, Sam's hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes gently.

“Why are you doing this?” Fury asks, he doesn’t really care why, he knows people like these guys have no moral compass but he’s trying to make the call last as long as he can so they can track it.

“You took my brother away from me, I’m only getting him back.”

“At the cost of an innocent life?”

“You mean her?” He scoffs. “Can’t be that innocent if she's dating the winter soldier.” Sam can feel Bucky’s shoulders tense under his touch at the mention of his past life. “Stop wasting my time, just get my brother back to me. I’ll send you an address in 1 hour. Be there or the girl dies.” The call ends before Fury can reply.

“We got them!” An agent Bucky doesn’t know shouts up from the back of the room. “Sir, we’ve got them.”

Bucky immediately makes his way over to where the agent is sitting and tries to read the computer but has no luck, it’s all in code. “Where is she?”

“Water Crescent Garage, on the other side of the city.” She replies, as she continues typing. “The jet will get you there in 15 minutes.”

“Let’s go.” Bucky’s out of the room before anyone can respond, running through the halls and reaching the jet before anyone else.

“Barnes, I’ll remind you. Stay calm or you’re off.”

“I know. I’m calm” He was most certainly calm. “Can we please just go?” His voice is dripping in desperation, he just wants you safe.

—-------

“Looks like Soldier wants you back, hmm?” The taller guy asks you, knowing you can’t answer him. “Maybe I’ll see what he’s getting every night huh?” He begins to run his fingers over your bare shoulder, nearing your neck and beginning to squeeze slightly. You try to move away but the rope keeps you in place. “This what he likes doing to you? He likes having control? He likes to own you?” He brings his other hand towards the zip on the side of your dress before an alarm stops him. He looks around to the other guy in the room. “Stay with her. I’ll go.”

The other guy grunts in response. Once the taller guy has left he walks towards you, gun in his hand. “You better hope your boyfriend isn’t trying something sweetheart. It won’t end well.” You don’t understand why these guys think you and Bucky were so serious, you’d only had one date.

You start to hear gunshots in the distance, getting closer and closer to you every second. You were praying the good guys were winning and that they were here to save you.

A few minutes pass when the door to your room bursts open and none other than Captain America himself walks in. It takes him less than 15 seconds to disarm and knock out the guy who was left with you, although it feels like longer for you. “Buck, I’ve got her.” He walks over to you and removes the cloth in your mouth.

Bucky was here. “Bucky?”

“Hey Y/N, I’m here to help okay?” He begins to untie the rope around your hands, careful to not hurt you. “Bucky’s on his way. It’s over.”

As Sam was untying your feet Bucky runs into the room and rushes over to you. His heart breaks when he sees you upclose. Your cheeks that were so rosy just last night were now white as a ghost, your lips once red were now blue and bruised, the sparkle he had just seen hours ago in your eyes was now replaced with fear.

You stand up with the help of Sam and look towards Bucky.

“Are you okay? Where does it hurt? Sam, call the doc, let her know we’re coming.” Bucky's eyes are moving around your body, scouting out every injury he can find and taking note of it.

The only thing you can bring yourself to say is thank you, your lip wobbles as you say it and your voice is shaky with each word but Bucky understands. “Tha.. Thank you for saving me.”

He slowly reaches out to hold you against him, giving you enough time to tell him to stop if you want to. He wraps his arm around you, carefully avoiding anywhere that looks injured. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why they came after you. I promise as soon as I found out what was happening I started looking for you. I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, he doesn't owe you an apology, none of this was his fault. The motion only makes you feel nauseous, and you feel as if you might throw up if you move anymore. “I can’t. I can’t.. I feel sick.” Bucky stops as soon as you ask.

“Can I carry you?”

“Please.” You were embarrassed to be feeling this weak but he didn’t seem bothered by it. He just seemed sad.

—---

After you get seen by the avenger’s doctor and prescribed some pretty strong painkillers you finally arrive home. Bucky tried to get you to stay in for longer, he was worried you would be feeling worse once the shock had worn off but you insisted on coming home. You needed to be in your own space.

“I’ll make you some food, you wanna get changed out of those?” You weren’t really hungry but you couldn't bring yourself to say no. You did want to badly get changed out of the clothes Natasha had lent you, they were very tight.

“Thank you.”

Bucky wanted to tell you to stop thanking him, you should be angry at him and it was killing him that you were treating him with so much kindness after everything you’d been through at his fault.

Bucky makes you a sandwich, knowing you probably wouldn't be too hungry. “It’s just to get some food in you. Some water too.” He said as he handed you a plate and glass of water.

The next words that left Bucky’s mouth were ones he’d never wanted to say but it didn’t feel right staying with you after what he’d put you through. “Do you need anything else before I go?”

You nearly choke as you swallow that bite. He gets down to his knee and looks up at you. “You okay?” You immediately start crying, not even trying to hide it. “Hey, what's wrong?” You hadn’t been apart from Bucky since he found you, and now that he was leaving you felt so scared again.

“I don’t wanna be alone.” His heart breaks again at how soft your voice comes out, almost as if you were afraid to speak.

He wants nothing more than to stay with you, keep you safe but he feels that with every second he spends with you the more you'll be at risk.

“Is there anyone I can call to stay with you?”

“Could you?” You almost whisper to him.

“What was that?” He asks softly.

“Could you stay?”

“You really want me to?”

“I do.”

He almost, almost says yes before he remembers how you looked when he found you in that room. He stands up and backs away a little. “I don’t think I should.”

You try to stand up and walk towards him but get a bit dizzy as you do, grabbing onto his arm for balance. “Why not?”

“Doll, sit down.” He guides you gently back onto the couch. “It’s my fault you got hurt.”

“No Bucky, that’s not true. I really like you Bucky, and whilst this may not have been the second date we had in mind, I don’t want to lose you. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same.”

“I never said I didn't feel the same way, I just.. I just can't put you in any more danger.”

“The way I see it, you saved me from danger. And I know now that you’ll always be there to save me. Please stay?” He nods.

“You’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay.”

#wwilsonbarness #stay?#marvel #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #buckybarnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fan fiction

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badnoahmens · 3 months

Text

I Took Your Keys, It Was Me - Part 5

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 5.3k

A/N: part 5 of this series is finally here. I’m considering this to be the last one so I really hope you enjoy 🖤🤍

When you awoke, the pillow beneath your head had shifted, and Noah was no longer by your side. Sleepily, you look around. The sun was not long up, light shining in low beams of gold through the window.

When you write yourself fully, there was a small clattering in the kitchen. When you turn, you see Noah, lifting spoonfuls of a milky cereal into his mouth, some of which misses and plops back into the bowl. With a grin, he looks at you.

“Good morning sunshine,” he places the bowl on the counter, wiping a drip from his chin. The innocent nickname made your heart swell. “How did you sleep?”

He stood casually shirtless, leaning backward, his hips in line with the countertop. The tattoos that decorated all of his chest and stomach looked like they could be in a gallery. There were ones where the symbolism seemed obvious, but there were so many that sparked new questions.

You rub at one eye sleepily as a yawn escapes your lips, eyes eventually averting from ogling at his tattoos.

“Like a log, actually” you say tagged with a small laugh. Noah smiles in response and turns to place his bowl in the sink, then walks towards you swiftly. He leans down and lands a small kiss on your forehead, smoothing down some of your erratic hairs splayed everywhere with a gentle rub of his thumb.

“Would it be okay if I use your shower?” he asks politely.

“Of course, towels are just around the corner,” you gesture to the cupboard, and Noah soon disappears, the sound of water falling in the bathroom soon follows.

You take this opportunity to find your phone, which had been thoughtfully plugged in by Noah. You assume that you fell asleep long before he did. When you unlock it, you see a plethora of messages from your friend. Instead of replying to them all, you decided to just call her.

It took two rings, and then she was there.

“TELL ME EVERYTHING” she demanded. You couldn’t help but laugh at her brashness.

“He took me home, looked after me, and now he’s currently in my shower” you giggle. You felt like a school girl the way you were talking about Noah. It felt like the butterflies in your stomach were doubling by the second.

“And how are you feeling?” she then asked in a more serious tone.

“Better. I don’t think any of these injuries are that serious. Just a bit of a knock around and some intense bruises. I’ll be fine” you state calmly.

She hmphs in response.

“I’ll never forgive you for not telling me about Noah. But, regardless, tell me about EVERYTHING that has happened. How many dates? Have you kissed? Have you slep-”

“So many questions!” you interject, holding your hands up defensively even though she couldn't see you. You knew exactly where she was going with that.

“Well?”

“A few dates. I’ve met most of the band and crew, they are all so lovely. We made out last night, but it was too painful to take it any further. And that’s it. You’re up to date.”

“Take it further?” She pressed.

“You know exactly what I mean”

“No, I don’t. Please enlighten me”

“My chest and ribs were in too much pain so I had to pull back”

“Good on you for knowing when it was too much, but how did he react? Was he mad?”

The assumption made you wince a little, feeling like you needed to defend him.

“He was apologetic, actually. He was happy to stop. Didn’t want to hurt me.” Your tone was a little more serious now.

“Okay. So now what?” She asked. And that was a great question. Now what?

Now what, in terms of labels for you two, or now what, as in what’s the plan for today?

Your mind raced back to the conversation late last night, the one of Noah taking you to one of his shows.

“He’s driving me to their show tonight, and then driving me back. I think he’s worried I’ll hurt myself by overdoing it if I’m alone” you laugh at the absurdity. It wasn’t like you had lost any limbs or broken any bones.

“He sounds sweet” your friend coos.

“He is.” The sound of the water shutting off in the bathroom makes your heartbeat pick up the pace.

“I promise I’ll keep you up to date with anything else” you say, and then the two of you quickly say your goodbyes.

When Noah walks back into the room, you look up from your phone after going through all of your messages. His towel is hitched low on his hips, beads of hot water still clinging to his body. Steam trailed up into the air almost like a metaphor for how hot he looked at this moment.

His eyes were slightly bloodshot, dark irises looking straight into your soul, hair was slick and stuck down to his forehead, and you didn’t even dare let your eyes wander to the slight lump just beneath where the towel covered his body.

“I don’t exactly have a spare set of clothes, would it be okay if I used your machine to clean these ones?” The politeness was astounding, and the gentleness of which he asked made you become a little woozy.

“Yeah, of course, it’s down this way-“ you begin to stand, ignoring the fire inside of you when you flex your abdominal muscles. Noah noticed the slight wince and swiftly held his hand in your shoulder.

The strength of his grip was so controlled, nowhere near his full potential, but firm enough to know he wasn’t playing around.

“You need to stay seated and take it easy,” just as you begin to argue, he continues. “Doctors orders.”

You stare at him, hands grasping at the sofa’s fabric. Noah lifts an eyebrow at you, as though egging you on to continue, but you huff and fall back in defeat.

Noah grins, triumphantly at that, and then turns on his heels and around the corner again, the sound of the washing machine clunking to life echoes down the hallway after a few moments.

The following hours repeat much the same as that you have just experienced. Beginning a task, Noah firmly reminding you ‘doctor's orders,’ and then proceeding to act like a full time carer.

Lunch? Ordered and delivered.

Dishwasher? Unpacked and mostly out away correctly.

Rubbish? Taken out.

The only thing Noah couldn’t do for you was use the restroom on your behalf, even if he had tried to argue with you about it.

You shift and begin to stand, Noah immediately standing in front of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I need to pee, Noah.” You say bluntly, struggling to find an angle that didn’t hurt to pull yourself up.

Noah, although disgruntled, offers you his hands and helps pull you to a stand. Instead of letting you go, he instead traps you in his arms.

“This isn’t helping” you state, but didn’t even dare try and get out of his embrace. He didn’t respond, instead, kept you in his arms for a moment longer. When he did release you, he couldn’t keep his eyes from you as you turned to walk away.

Your business in the bathroom didn’t take long, but when you walked back to the living room, Noah was standing, pacing slowly around the room, his phone held to his ear.

“I don’t know why this is an issue now? You were fine with it earlier?” He argued down the line. He looked like an unimpressed mother the way he stood with one hand on his hip, leaning on one leg more than the other.

He didn’t meet your gaze when you entered, so you assume it’s none of your business. Instead, you return to your seat on the lounge and focus as much as you can on the tv.

“Fine. I’ll make it work. I’ll be there” he huffed, as though in defeat, and then hung up.

“So turns out,” he fell back onto the sofa next to you, bouncing slightly as he landed, “that we need to be there earlier than expected.”

You nod in response.

He continued, “there’s some media who want to do an interview with the whole band. I guess I gotta be there for that”

“I guess you gotta be there for that” you echo playfully.

With Noah’s new schedule for the evening, it meant you had to leave much sooner than expected. Time passed quickly and soon enough you were both in the car and not far from your destination.

The car ride was pleasant, filled with easy conversations, some karaoke sing-a-longs, and even now and then some comfortable silence.

Upon arriving, there was some chaos occurring at the rear of the venue, but Noah didn't seem phased. He coolly parked the car, helped you out of the seat by offering a gentlemanly hand, and then walked towards the hustle and bustle, all the while still holding a firm grip on your hand, like he was scared you would trip and fall.

Through the doors was a labyrinth of endless hallways, ominous doors and flickering lights. Windows were few and far between, but you put that down to the ambient design of the live music venue.

Noah led you effortlessly, unravelling the puzzle of the hallways, gracefully slipping between small gatherings of people, until he came to his desired door.

Along the way, Noah explained that the interview process always felt so forced and unnatural to him. The questions were always premeditated, rehearsed, and disingenuous.

“It’s always the same thing. ‘How are you feeling about tonight’s show? When is new music coming out? Any collabs on the horizon?’. Always trying to get a scoop of drama or intel.” Noah seemed frustrated already, but it was with a steady breath, he twisted the handle and entered the room.

The lights were so bright they almost burned your retinas. Squinting as Noah led you into the room, your eyes adjusted to see a flurry of people. Cameras being set up, mics and more lighting being rigged. The rest of the band sat on a tan sofa. Folio, Ruffilo, Jolly, and then an empty space. Closest to the empty space sat an armchair of a matching colour. Sat there was a man dressed plainly, T-shirt and jeans, who was too engrossed in something on their phone to pay any attention to the room around them.

Folios leg bounced up and down rhythmically, like he was practising a kick drum pattern for the show tonight. Ruffilo and Jolly were in a quiet conversation, throwing a casual head nod to Noah as he entered the room.

Noah looked around, finding a chair off to the side with a pile of equipment and cables on it. He relocated said like to the floor, ignoring the disgruntled look of media, and offered you the seat.

“You’ll get a good view of the whole thing here” he said pointing over his shoulder and the interview set up, “but it shouldn’t take too long.”

He hesitated a moment, and let go of your hand as you sat. He offered you a sweet grin, then turned to take his place on the sofa.

You saw Jolly nudge his elbow into Noah’s side as he sat, the menagerie of people beginning to take their places and roll cameras.

Watching the professional personas take over was fascinating. The way the band effortlessly discusses their answers to the meagre at best questions made the whole process very entertaining. Whether they knew it or not, they took turns in giving their responses, and would nod and hum approvingly if each other's answers. There was a chemistry between them all, like an unspoken language, where they just got each other.

It was 10 or so minutes in, the bland pleasantries long gone, and now the harder hitting questions were being asked.

“What do these records look like compared to your previous works?”

“Any plans to leave your current label once the contract is done?”

“Will your relationships become a distraction from the production of your new music?”

The interviewer was hammering them. He was digging for the details. Looking for the next juicy scoop.

But, it was that last question that echoed in your head.

Relationship?

Noah leaned back in his seat, arm was now resting along the back of the sofa. He took his time, considering the words he would use, how he could dance around this question but still give a satisfactory answer.

Well, that’s what you thought. You expected him to avoid discussing his relationships, let alone you, at any cost. What even were the two of you? There had been no discussion of what you were, only that you had been spending a lot of time together. Surely he wouldn’t let the world know that.

“I'm not distracted. I'm perfectly capable of maintaining my relationship and still producing a kick-ass record. I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we’re in the best place to actually live our lives currently.” Noah takes a moment, a fleeting glance in your direction, and then goes back to his answer.

“We’re lucky to have such good people surrounding us, if anything it’s going to help motivate us even more.”

It was for the most fleeting of moments, but Noah caught your gaze. His eyes flickered to yours almost like it was the reassurance you didn’t know you were looking for, that he was talking about you. You barely even noticed Jolly continuing on from Noah’s answer.

“We surround ourselves with good people, so only good things can come from that.” The rest of the band were nodding in agreement.

The man asking the interview questions, whose name you found out to be Tim, looked ecstatic. He had a hook into the personal lives of this otherwise mysterious band, and he wasn’t going to let go of it that easily.

“Noah, how do you think your audience will react to your new taken status?”

Noah rolled his eyes, removing his arm from the back of the lounge and leant forward on his knees. He held the microphone in one hand, the other waving too and fro to help emphasise his statements.

“Look, the thing I think people need to remember is that I’m a human that has a life. Shocking, I know. Yes, my music means a lot to me. Does that mean it’s the only thing in my life? No. People can think whatever they want, I can’t control that. What I can control, and what we will continue to do, is to put everything we’ve got into making music we enjoy.”

Beautifully, he had dodged the question.

Tim wasn’t happy.

“What does the rest of the band think?” He gestured his hand towards Folio.

“Doesn’t change our lives” he said with a shrug.

Tim grunted, then locked eyes with Ruffilo.

“It’s true. I think most people wouldn’t have even known if you didn’t bring it up in this interview” Rufilo stated calmly, throwing the drama back into Tim.

Clearly dissatisfied with this topic now, Tim moved into something else. The interview was quickly wrapped up mere minutes later. With the cameras now turned off, Tim, now out of the room, Folio, Jolly, Noah and Ruffilo all stood, stretching and heading for the door.

Noah glanced over his shoulder and waved you towards him, slinging his arm over your shoulder and leading you out of the room with him.

“That seemed like fun” you say to the group as they saunter towards the green room.

“One of the less painful ones recently,” Jolly responded.

“He didn’t want to let up with the relationship shit,” Ruffilo commented. You noticed the hint of annoyance on his voice, feeling a sense of guilt creep into the pit of your stomach.

“He’ll be happy with what he got,” Noah chimed in, guiding you into a new empty room of the venue.

You didn’t bring up anything else about the interview out of fear. Fear of adding unnecessary stress, of causing any more tension, and honestly you just didn’t want to be a problem.

You began to watch the flurry in front of you. It was like a well oiled machine the way they choreographed their warm ups. Taking turns for sound check, leaving for periods of time to set up gear, practising their instruments and vocals. This was second nature to them. That interview? Long gone from their worries, so you tried to do the same as best you could.

Noah was always in two places at once, looking like he was working on a thousand things, ticking them off from a mental checklist.

Checking, rechecking, and checking equipment a third time. He was meticulous. His eye for detail, from how the cables were taped down, the placement of the set lists, even observing the light show from various corners of the venue. Everything he did had a purpose, but the way he spoke wasn't demanding. Instead, his cool demeanour helped portray his vision, and the crew knew exactly how to translate that into their craft.

An hour has passed before you knew it, and the energy in the room shifted. More and more people started to filter through the rear of the venue, and soon enough what looked like the whole lineup for the evening's entertainment filled the greenroom.

You have been to plenty of shows before, seen many bands live, but this was a new experience for you. There was a strange sense of familiarity to it all as you walked onto the main floor, into a wide open space with the stage lit up, barred off only by a flimsy barricade.

It just looked so empty. The calm before the storm. The quiet echoes of voices started to grow louder as a small gathering of the crew entered into the room. You immediately felt out of place then, looking sheepishly to the floor and stepping in the opposite direction from where they were coming.

“Wait up!” A voice calls out, but you keep walking, thinking it was for someone else.

“Jeez, you walk quickly. Hang on Key Girl” you heard again, only then glancing over your shoulder. Miles half-jogged to you. “It’s good to see you again,” he said, then turned to look at the stage. “It’s pretty unreal, isn’t it”.

You admired the screens which rolled through different graphics, colours flooding onto the polished timber floors.

“I wanted to see it all from this point of view before everyone else came in,” you admit.

“So he’s got you watching from the side stage? Left or right?” Miles questioned. You didn’t exactly know what he was on about.

“I have no idea,” is your response, paired with a shaky, nervous laugh.

“He thinks his left side is his good side. If he says watch him from stage left, let me know” Miles comments with a wink.

Before you’re able to question him further on it, his name is called and he is gone, leaving you baffled.

“Doors open in 10!” Is loudly called from one end of the room, and immediately people are moving about. You see this as your sign to head back to the greenroom and prepare for the tsunami of people about to bust through those doors.

Lo and behold, the 10 minutes are up, and people are pouring into the once empty room. There is an excited chatter amongst everyone there as the place lights up from the beaming faces of the audience.

After straying from him for some time, Noah found you in a slight panic.

“Are you okay? Everything okay? Your injuries oka-“

“I’m okay. Good. Great even” you interject. Noah nods, your response not calming his jitters. It wasn’t you he was panicked about.

“What’s going on?” You ask, instinctively placing a hand to rest on his tattooed forearm. He was warm and you could feel his heartbeat pulsing quickly.

“Talk to me” you ordered, and Noah’s eyes met yours. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, and lets out the air steadily.

“Remember the interview?” He asks, and it’s the first time since you were there that you thought of it. “I should have spoken to you first. I’m sorry. I didn’t think he would put it out so quickly. I shouldn’t have looked at the comments. I should have signed off.”

“What are you on about Noah?”

He looks sheepish then, avoiding your gaze and pulling your hand into his. He led you to a beaten up sofa in the corner of the greenroom. As you sat, the small crowd in there were murmuring, throwing quick glances in your direction.

Noah goes through something on his phone, bringing up links through different social apps, before offering it to you.

You take the phone, but instead of looking at the screen, you watch the way he buries his face in his hands. His long fingers tap anxiously as he leans forward onto his elbows.

“I’m sorry. I think I fucked up” he grumbles into his hands, barely audible. “Please don’t hate me.”

“Noah, you’re acting like you killed someone” you joke, but he doesn’t respond. So you look at the screen. You see a YouTube video loaded and a very familiar scene.

From what you saw mere hours ago, it was already uploaded into the digital world.

“I’m struggling to see what the issue is here” you bump your shoulder to his, and he finally sits upright. He takes the phone from his hand and swiftly fast forwards to the near end of the video, and passes it back.

The video played, the interview ended, and a new scene of Tim appeared on the phone. Perplexed, you turn the volume up.

“You heard it here first, Noah Sebastian is off the market” he said, speaking jovially to the camera. “Accompanied by his girlfriend this afternoon, Sebastian seems to be pretty confident that nothing will change, but I want to know what his fans think.”

What happened next made your heart drop - a photo of your side profile with a small smile on your face graced the phone screen. Noah groaned and put his face back into the palms of his hands as he leant back into the sofa.

The video continued to divulge information, from your name, hometown, even your age. Hearing it all spoken by this stranger online sounded alien, you needed to go back and watch it again.

You recognise the scene in the photo, the same room the interview took place in. You can just make out the back of a camera pointing in the opposite direction of you. Someone had sneakily taken your photograph while the interview was taking place. They were on to you before you even knew what was going on.

Watching it a third time, hearing your name clearly stated once again, made the severity of the situation clear. Your secret was out. People know your face now. Your friends and family didn’t even know this much yet. But most importantly, Noah’s girlfriend?

“I didn’t see them take that photo” Noah mumbles, still hiding behind his hands. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. This fucker fucked that up. I’m so sorry.”

“Are you sorry that they got a bad angle of me?” You whisper, tugging at his arm in an attempt to release his face.

His arm drops and he looks at you quizzically.

“I don’t get it” he stares blankly, blinking as if to clear up your statement.

“I would have preferred to have better lighting” you joke, handing him back his phone. Everything inside you was panicking, screaming even to worry about this. But what was there to worry about?

People won’t like you for it, sure. But you’re not alone. Was it 100% true? You didn’t know, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was Noah and how he had got himself into a panicked state. He needed you to be calm, to help him be calm.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?”

The small gathering of people fell into a quiet, barely audible whisper. People sneakily peered in your direction, watching what unfolded between the two of you.

“Tim seems like an asshole, sure, but why would I be mad at you?”

“I just outed you to the world” Noah states matter-of-factly.

Failing to find the words, because although technically true, it wasn’t your fault, you offer him a shrug.

“And you’re not mad about it.” Noah concludes. The people in the room now being less obvious of their eavesdropping. You glance in their direction, and just like a cartoon they all scurry to appear busy. One even picked up a broom.

Your eyes are back to Noah’s looking significantly less panicked now. His state slowly became more himself.

“I’m more curious,” he admits.

“About what” he was quick with his answer.

You hesitate, but need answers.

“The girlfriend thing.”

He pauses, eyes darting between your pupils, waiting for you to look away. You don’t.

“Would you?”

“Would I what?” You press. A smile cracks on his face.

“You’re going to make me ask like we’re teenagers?”

“Damn right” you remark. His smile grows bigger.

“Would you be my girlfriend?”

“What did you mean earlier when you said ‘I should have signed off’?”

“What?” Noah stammers out. Clearly not the response he was waiting for.

“You said…,” you paused to clear your throat. “‘I shouldn’t have looked at the comments. I should have signed off.’” You look at him expectantly. His eyes widen and a light pink graces his cheeks. He begins to chew at his bottom lip and the panic starts to return.

“I… uh…” his hand raises and he rubs at the back of his neck as he looks at the wall opposite you. “Replied to some comments. Online.” He pulls a face that screams ‘I think I said something I shouldn't have’, but also one that seems smug and almost proud of himself.

“Youuuuuu didn’t.” you gasp. Knowing his history of snide comments online, things can get unhinged real quick. “What did you say?”

Noah stands and paces the room with his arms held behind his back. It looks like he is about to defend himself when people walk back into the room. The privacy of this conversation flew out the window.

Noah was taken by surprise by the sudden uprising of people in the room, standing still and watching more people walk briskly in his direction.

“Dude. Love that you’re sticking up for her. But come on.” Ruffilo states, emphasising his points with his hands. He meant no harm, but Noah was starting to get flustered.

“What else was I supposed to do?” Running his hands through his hair now, he checked the time on his phone. Folio came to his side, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“Fuck ‘em. It’s hardly the worst thing you’ve ever tweeted.” Folio seemed unfazed by this whole thing.

The comments continued to be thrown around about how they are going to handle the situation. You used the distraction to check it out for yourself. Trying your best to filter through the comments about you, you sought the Bad Omens page and saw recent replies to some comments.

Noah was defending you, putting people in their place after throwing out allegations, making memes of the photograph they used of you, and blatantly spreading rumours.

Noah, being the cool ‘I don’t use social media’ guy he is, instantly jumped into it.

There were only a handful, but the casualness of how he owned the word ‘girlfriend’ made you blush a little.

‘At least I have a girlfriend’ was one.

‘This is why we can’t have nice things’ was another.

‘Let me know when someone can finally stand your bullshit’ was the last.

Each response was calling people out, and his sassy replies were finally putting people in their place.

You scrolled through the thread reacting to his comments. And by some miracle, people were getting it. Their attitude began to change, albeit small.

Subtly as you can, you put your phone away and walk over to Noah, whine seemed to be putting up his walls as he argued with his crew.

“Look, what’s done is done!” Jolly spoke diplomatically, trying and failing to speak over the rising tide of voices.

They all looked exasperated and lost, clearly having no idea what to do. You went to Noah’s side and loosely wrapped an arm around his back, hitching a grip onto his waste. He instinctively hung an arm around your shoulders which he rubbed his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose.

“You guys are really worked up over this, huh” you comment. Seeing their expressions falter to confusion confirmed your point.

“You’re strangely calm for being the epicentre of the storm,” Ruffilo laughed. It was the first time he cracked a smile since he walked in the room.

You offer a shrug in response. “Took the pressure off of me announcing it to the world.”

And for the first time, they all seemed to agree.

Noah pulls you closer to him, wrapping both his arms around your shoulders, and buried his head into your hair. You can feel light kisses being peppered into your head.

“Thank you” he murmurs loud enough for only you to hear.

“Is there always this much drama before you play a show?” You ask, and they chuckle.

You had succeeded and their guards were coming down. It didn’t take long before everyone was acting like themselves once again.

You couldn’t help but notice how Noah didn’t leave your side. Whether or not you thought it was because he still thought your injuries were worse than they really were, or that with this newfound relationship that he didn’t want to leave your side; you weren’t complaining.

Whether it be hovering his palm on the small of your back to help guide you through the hallways, offering to buy you a drink, shifting his weight and adjusting his posture any time you started to fidget by his side. It was all those small, thoughtful gestures that really made you see what kind of person he was like.

He cared for the small things, the things that would most usually go unnoticed. The straw he got for your drink, when he held the door open for you walking into any room, even the sweet glance thrown your way when he was across the room and you were mid-conversation with Jolly just to make sure your leg wasn’t bouncing with nerves again.

It just felt right.

Before you knew it, the time had come for the main act to start. Opening bands had been and gone, and the headliner was up next. The crowd sounded amped up, a thrill running through the air like electricity. The band had choreographed this, and had begun their walk down the runway. Red and white lights were beaming and twirling around the stage, the screens cycling through a cacophony of images and digital artefacts.

Just as Noah was about to walk on stage, clutching his ski mask in one hand, he looked at you with admiration. He grasped the sides of your face in his big hands and planted a kiss tenderly to your lips. You learnt into it, lingering in the fleeting moment of his warmth, almost making you feel lightheaded and swoony. When he pulled back, all too soon, he had a new sparkle in his eye.

“Watch me from stage left tonight” he ordered. Pressing a kiss on your forehead, he slipped the mask on and jogged to the stage, throwing you a wink before he fell into character for the night's entertainment.

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